#impulse costume peak what can i say

[lemonlimestar]

i found this in a comic bin the other day??? they just let anyone do variant covers huh

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 10:

“Hey, Bakugou.” You greet easily, waving at him. “Can you believe it?”

“Jesus- what the hell are you on about now?”

“Nothing. Just, this marks the third time I’ve seen you without injury. Good on you buddy, setting a personal record and everything.”

He huffs, pushing off the wall. Bakugou is without his costume, clad in just normal sweats. The sight makes you feel a little bad- it was obviously his day off, but there he was working. Sacrificing his time for you.

“Fuck you.” He grumbles, without any bite. “Seriously. Fuck you.”

“C’mon, grumpy, don’t get so huffy.” You say playfully. “I was mostly joking, but I did mean it. I think I like you a whole lot better when there’s no blood involved.”

He starts to smile, just for a second, before he quickly evens his expression. It’s like he’s trying to hide the fact that it was there at all, quickly spinning around and starting off at a brisk pace. 

“Woah, slow down, no need to run, speedy. I’ll take it back if you’re so allergic to me being nice.”

Bakugou doesn’t respond, but he does slow down. Just minutely. Hardly even at all if you really think about it, but hey, at least you’re not basically running after him anymore.

“What’s got you so cheery, hah?” He asks after a beat, making an intentional point not to make eye contact. “It’s late- you’re not tired again?”

His tone catches you off-guard, something accusatory underneath that has you scrunching your nose. You’re not exactly sure what he’s getting at, but you can read his prickly tone for what it is- Bakugou is making fun of you. 

“No. I’m actually not tired, thank you very much.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night.”

“You know, that sentence from anyone else would offend me- but from you?” You scoff, squinting your eyes at him. “Well, I’m sure it was meant as an insult, not an insinutation; so I’ll refrain from calling you a pig. For now.”

“Call me anything and see where it gets ya, leech.”

“What’re you gonna do? Fight me?”

“Please, it wouldn’t be a fight.” He snorts, kicking at a rock in the road. It flies down the alley, all the way past the streetlamp’s glow. “See? I’d slaughter you.” 

“Yes! Probably!" You say in faux exasperation. "But it’s because you have way more practice at slaughtering people! I don’t know why you’re bragging about that- that’s totally not something normal people brag about!”

You throw your hands up, gesturing wildly, and Bakugou just sort of watches you. Doesn’t really react other than to evade one of your errant hands. You just barely miss him, the tips of your fingers clipping the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“What- nothing? You’ve got nothing to say about that? Course you don’t- because you’re proud of slaughtering people. Is that it? Huh?”

“I’m proud of winning.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Close enough.” He shrugs. “'Sides, it’s not my fault I wasn’t listenin’. Ya said so many damn words to me.”

“That’s so rude! You-“

Seeing his smile, you cut yourself off half-way. It should hardly even count as a smile, really, it’s much more of a smirk- something entirely self-indulgent and dripping with arrogance. You’re not sure if you wanna punch him in the mouth or giggle.

“You jerk. You’re messing with me!” On impulse, you knock your shoulders into his. Bakugou doesn’t flinch- nor does he budge whatsoever. “You’re just being mean on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Course.”

“Why? Just, I don’t know, be nice?”

“Fuck that. No thanks.”

“You incredibly rude- you know that?”

“And you’re fuckin’ annoying.” He retorts, knocking his shoulders into yours. Bakugou smirks when you stumble. “See- I’d murder you in a fight.”

“No one was debating that!”

He just bites his lip, throwing his head back. It’s like Bakugou is trying to hide his smile; exposing the strong column of his throat to you, pale skin gone 10 shades of gold under the streetlamp.

It steals the breath from your lungs- how devastatingly beautiful he can be. You have to tear your eyes away.

“Hey, Bakugou, it’s your day off right?”

He eyes you a little strangely. “Yes? Why?”

“Geez- Don’t be so suspicious.” You laugh. “I only asked because I was curious.”

“The hell you have to be curious about?”

“Just what you’d be doing right now otherwise- you know, if you weren’t stuck walking me-“

“‘m not stuck. Wouldn’t do this if I didn’t need to.”

“Yeah, but still.” You take a breath. “What I mean, is that, I’m sorry if this is burdening you. I know this probably isn’t what you wanted to do on your day off.”

He eyes you, sniffing for a moment while he juts his chin out. “Eh- it’s fine. Walking this far outta my way is good excercise anywa-“

“This far? Oh my god- are you serious? Where do you live?”

“Far enough.”

“Bakugou.” You say sternly, staring him down. You’re well aware he’s not a man who’s easily scolded into revealing the truth, but damn if you weren’t going die trying. “Seriously- how far?”

“Fuck’s it matter to you for?”

“Because it just does! Now, c’mon really, I’m gonna feel like, super bad if you say you’ve gotta take a train her-“

“No train, so quit bitching.” He scans the street for a moment, before turning back to look at you. “Not that far. Half an hour, maybe, if I was running.”

“If you were running? What about walkin-“

“Not walking so it doesn’t matter.”

“It does!”

“It fuckin’ doesn’t-“

Then he’s standing ram-rod straight, slapping an open palm over your stomach and pushing you back. You’re flying back into the shadows, back slamming against the brick wall. Gasping, air knocked clean out of your lungs, it’s all you can do to keep your eyes open and watch him leave.

Bakugou hardly even looks back before he’s soaring past the end of the alley, explosions igniting under his palms. There’s no one, all is quiet, silent and tense and then- bam.

A mottled mass of muscles and pulsating flesh barrels through the building beside Bakugou. Debris rains down onto the street, down onto the exact spot you were standing moments ago. The flying detrius knocks Bakugou off course, and the blonde hardly dodges before the creature is slinging fists his way.

“Shouldn’t’a been makin’ such a scene!” Bakugou is all smirks and haughty confidence, seamlessly twisting and dodging the creature’s strikes. “Gave yourself away- I’ve got you now!”

Even breathless and winded, you can’t help but stare. Bakugou truly is something else- a terrifying bullet in the air, bordering on frenetic as he dodges. He’s so fast you’re worried he’ll catch fire. There’s a reckless sort of smile on his face, stretching his lips back around canines you’re sure are sharper than before. He’s throws his left palm out, explosion recoil throwing him just past the creature’s next attack. It’s enough of an opening for Bakugou to surge in, flashbang fingertips making contact with the beast’s abdomen.

“Really, that’s all?” He challenges, grinning like mad when the beast flies back from the impact. “No strategy at all? That’s not gonna fuckin’ work!”

And then he looks back at you, just for a singular moment, while the beast is bent over from his previous blow. The sight nearly knocks the air out of your lungs all over again.

Bakugou is terrifying. Manic and bloodthirsty and feverish almost, chest heaving with every labored breath. There’s something wild in his eyes, coloring his features in blood that hasn’t even been spilled yet. It’s intimidating and scary and overwhelming, but he’s dazzling too. A crazed smile, so blinding and brilliant, that it leaves an after-image long after he’s blasted away again.

Something snaps in you then, and you’re diving behind the nearest dumpster. It’s a little gross and cramped, but you hear plaster cracking around you, and suddenly it’s not so bad anymore. Your eyes are wide, watching the battle- and even when hidden it still feels too close.

Your heart is trapped in your throat, a battering ram even as you try to catch your breath. Everything is loud, and chaotic, and you’ve never been this close to a real battle before. It scares you. You clasp your hands around your ears, trying to block out the gargling and explosions. It’s not enough, your breath still picking up as explosion impact rattles the asphalt beneath your feet.

“You’re done!” You hear him shout, and suddenly the air goes white and hot, and bright.

You screw your eyes shut, and bite back a scream as an explosion rattles every surrounding window. The sound swallows everything, and the light show is even worse. Even through your eyelids it’s blazing. Bright enough to have you diving to the ground and tucking your head between your knees.

Then it’s quiet. Complete silence other than the ringing in your ears. You hear impact, a warbled groan, and then the sound of his voice.

“You fucker.” He roars. “I’m fuckin’ busy, you weak bitch, can’t ya fuckin’ see that?”

Another thud. Another groan.

“All this shit for some cash? Just get a job, you fuckin’ loser. Like the goddamn rest of us.”

You peak your head over the dumpster, and see Bakugou standing tall over the collapsed body. You’re not entirely sure how the villian’s quirk operates, but the mass of flesh is deflating by the second, leaving behind a skinny mess of bones and sinew.

“A front, hah? Pathetic.” Bakugou sneers, grinding his teeth before he snaps. “On your fuckin’ feet weakling- ‘m taking you in.”

Bakugou hauls the skinny man to his feet, trapping rail-thin arms tight to the man’s back. It’s only then that you choose to emerge, staggering slighty on your shaking legs. It’s like you’ve got tremors- your body practically bowled over by the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“H-help- I didn’t-“ The skinny man starts, before Bakugou is sending a knee into the base of his spine.

“Don’t speak to her, you shit-stain.” Bakugou curls his lip. “Shut the hell up.”

You’re not really sure what to do then- caught between wanting to high-tail it in the complete opposite direction, and surging towards Bakugou. Because, if you weren’t certain before, you definitely were now; Bakugou knew what he was doing. And if worst ever came to worst, he’d stay true to all his threats. Nobody was getting to you while he was around.

“Follow. C’mon.” Bakugou nods towards the end of the street. “Police station. You know where it is. Let’s get the hell to it already.”

You just start walking- almost on autopilot. There’s a weird fuzz settling in your brain, the adrenaline seeping and leaving nothing but exhaustion behind. It’s disorienting because you weren’t even part of the fight- Bakugou had shoved you back long before you could have ever been in any real danger.

You’re not sure how he knew- how he could have possibly predicted the villain coming through the wall, but even still, you’re gratetful. Because you’re not hurt, only frazzled where you would’ve been massacred without him there.

Bakugou waits for you to pass him by, and only once you’re a good few steps ahead, does he start shoving his prisoner forward. The walk is tense and silent, the only noise being the occasional pained groan from the skinny man. There’s an undeniable air of intimidation coming from Bakugou, rolling off his skin and permeating every spare inch of air. It only adds more stress to an already harrowing situation.

The police station lies just where you remembered it, but you’ve never been this close before. You’d only seen it down the end of the street as you passed by- only through the fuzzy haze of exhaustion after your shift ended. Now there’s nothing hazy about it- just a stark white building and big glass doors. Big glass doors that Bakugou is surging through, prisoner in tow, and ordering you to stay behind.

When he’s through the door, it’s like your heart finally starts to catch up. You can feel it’s thud slow against you ribs, no longer jumping at every slight sound. You eyelids feel heavy, further weighed down by the headache you feel coming on. You lean against the wall of the station, bending slightly at the waist as you ground the heels of your palm against your temple.

“All good?” You hear his voice some time later, Bakugou’s footsteps heavy as he approaches. “You get hurt?”

“No- ‘m fine.” You chew your cheek, straightening as you look up at him. “I think.”

He studies you for a moment, red eyes flitting across your face. Bakugou grimaces. “You’re shaking.”

“Yeah. Was scared.”

“It’s fine now.” He huffs, frustration lacing his features. Bakugou clenches his hand, releases, and repeats twice over before he speaks again. “Got ‘em already, so you can chill the hell out now. Alright?”

“Yeah- yeah sure.”

You try to agree, but your voice doesn’t sound right when it leaves your throat. It’s a little too hoarse, empty of almost all inflection. You’re not particularly pleased with it and Bakugou is even less so.

“You need a few minutes or something?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, like even asking the question pains him. “Need to call somebody?”

Bakugou looks incredibly uncomfortable- eyes shifting around wildly and refusing to settle. All of his battlefield-confidence, even that self-assured smirk seems to have disappeared entirely. He huffs a pained breath and leans back against the wall next to you. His shoulders are just barely touching yours, voice pinched and tense when he speaks.

“I know it’s loud- but it’s over now. Now you just go home, and you sleep. Nothing is gonna happen to you.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Bakugou tilts his head skyward. He grinds his teeth, once, twice, and smooths out his grimace. “And I’ll fuckin’ be there so don’t go spiraling about it, alright? You’re safe now.”

You nod, rolling your lips together for a moment. He’s not meeting your eyes, not even attempting to, but you can’t help but stare. Can’t help but track all the lines of his face; the way his nose slopes, and the set of his eyebrows. He doesn’t look like before. Not crazed, or manic, or brutal. He’s just Bakugou. Maybe a little grumpy, but mostly just uncomfortable- exactly the way you’ve come to know him.

Something in you settles at bit at that.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let's go." You kick off the wall, putting one foot in front of the other. "I'm more than ready to be home."

Bakugou just watches you, and you can see him reach a hand out before immediately dropping it. His lip curls up in disgust- and that just confuses you. You wonder where the Bakugou from a few minutes ago went; the one who seemed so entirely sure of himself.

"Faster." He says, overtaking you in one long stride. "Stallin' around at night is never a good idea."

You suppose he's right, but you never would've believed him before.

Prior to tonight, you had never been a part of a villain attack. You hadn't even seen a villain on anything other than TV re-runs. Your neighborhood was quiet, the streets never holding any danger, even at night. Now, though, every shadow seems suspicious, every sound a precursor for something far worse. Your well aware you just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time that night, but that didn't make the reality any easier to handle. If Bakugou hadn't been there, if he hadn't show up dead on your balcony months ago, then you would've been gravely injured by all that falling debris.

The thought makes you feel weak all over again. Has your fingers curling in your gloves- itchy and uncomfortable and helpless.

You're quiet as you walk, caught up in a million spiraling thoughts. Bakugou doesn't seem keen on conversation either, keeping a few paces ahead and scanning for other danger. Occasionally he'll turn back, check to make sure you're following, and all you can really offer is a nod and a shaky sort of smile. It doesn't satisfy him at all- you can see that every time he sets his jaw.

"Oi- Leech." He snaps in front of your eyes, waving his hand back and forth. "It's- stop lookin' like that already. All freaked the fuck out. You look ridiculous."

His haughty tone as your blood warming, fingers clenching at your sides as you walk. You're not sure what reaction he's after, but all you can really think to do is get angry.

"I am freaked out! You were there! You saw that guy! He was huge!" You snap, squinting your eyes and waving your hands around. "If you weren't- I- what am I supposed to do when that shit happens? Huh? I can't fight, and even if I could I wouldn't, so what am I supposed to-"

"Nothing." He interrupts. "You do nothing, and you hide. Like you did."

"Yes, because you pushed me! If you hadn't I would've been crushed by all that- and how on Earth did you even know he was coming?"

"Vibrations. In the ground." He squints at you, a little confused. "Did you not-"

"No!"

"Damn," He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "You really couldn't feel that? Jesus, you really are clueless. No wonder you were so freaked out."

In that moment, you're a little sure you could strangle him. All his skill you'd seen earlier suddenly didn't matter at all, and you were sure you could take him down with nothing but rage alone.

He- vibrations? You didn't feel anything! You felt nothing and even if you had, you would've assumed it was an earthquake. No one except for him and his battle-addled brain would've ever assumed it was a villain of all things!

"Calm down," He seems to be fighting a smile, lip twitching up. "You look fuckin' ridiculous right now. 'm not scared of you, leech."

"You should be! I'm about to strangle you right now-"

"For what?"

"For- for- I don't know! You just make me so angry with your 'Oh, you didn't feel that?' bullshit!" You tilt your voice lower, coating it in gravel to mimic him. "Of course I didn't feel anything! I'm not like you- I don't have freaky super-human instincts and explosions and I can't just go fight somebody!"

True to his word, your outburst doesn't seem to scare him. If anything if seems to pull the smile from him more, lips pulling back into a grin even he has no chance of hiding.

"There she is." He stuffs his hands in his pockets, falling back a little to walk right beside you. "Thought you'd gone into shock or somethin'."

"So you- on purpose?"

"Said that shit about vibrations? Yeah." His smile turns wolfish, all sharp canines and pink gums. "There were no fuckin' vibrations, idiot. I heard the plaster cracking."

In that moment you're the surest you've ever been- you were going to murder Bakugou Katsuki.

"You dick!"

Your hands are out before you can stop them, shoving forcefully at his side. He just looks at you, rolling his eyes, and then decides to let you tip him sideways off the curb. It's the worst kind of victory- a pity one that he let you have.

"Chill out, already." He laughs. "Only said shit so you'd stop bein' all miserable. You should be fuckin' thankin' me."

"I'm not thanking you!"

He steps forward, one long stride eclipsing you entirely. Then he spins, facing you with another crooked grin, and you're digging your heels into the cement to avoid crashing directly into his chest.

"I said-" He starts, hands in his pockets and leaning forward until he's practically towering over you. "You should be thanking me."

His voice is low, sly and challenging as he grins. He looks positively predatory- but attractive too. The worst kind that leaves your heart stuttering in your chest for almost no discernable reason.

"G-get away from me." You fluster, taking a step back. "I'm not thanking you."

He shrugs, falling back to a safe distance. You don't miss it though- the way his grin goes just a little wider, entirely satisfied. He won, and he knows it.

"Suit yourself, then leech." He says, voice light. "If ya wanna mouth off so much, then 'm not fuckin' saving you next time."

He says the words, but you're almost entirely sure he doesn't mean them. Not with the way he is now- beaming and pleased under the moonlight. You wonder if he always gets like this; so happy just after a victory. It's the kind of sight that almost makes the entire ordeal worth it. Almost.

You walk through the doors of your apartment, shuddering a long sigh of relief. The walls feel safe, security and peace etched into familiar walls. Even with Bakugou stomping behind you, the serenity isn't disturbed all that much. He's still in his rare good mood apparently, and he doesn't even grumble whatsoever.

Truth be told, you're still a little shaken, but the interior of your apartment puts you at ease. Even if you don't feel nearly as infallible as before, home is a good feeling- it always is.

"You know- you know that you just got unlucky, right?" Bakugou seems to struggle for a moment, kicking the door shut behind him. "It's- that's- shit like that doesn't usually happen here."

You're not sure where his sentiment is headed, and he must see it on your face. He flares his nostrils, sighing something long-suffering and dramatic.

"I'm sayin'- that wasn't part of anything else. It was just the one idiot, so it's not any more dangerous here than it used to be. 'm sayin' don't waste your time worryin' about that shit."

Something in you warms a bit- just a fraction. You're not sure how he knew, how he always seems to know just what you're thinking, but at this moment you don't care to find out. There are some comforts better left experienced instead of studied- and you figure this might be one of them.

You smile, something soft and fond. "I take it back- I will thank you. So thank you. I'm sure I'd be a lot worse off if you weren't around."

You watch him fluster, watch him itch in his skin and shift his weight around. Eventually he settles on turning his back, moving towards your fridge as he speaks.

"Probably. You froze up completely- woulda been piss poor job performance to let you get killed." He's swinging the fridge door open, and the white light just makes it more apparent- his cheeks are pink. "Got ice packs in here somewhere?"

"I-Ice packs?"

"Yeah. Knuckles are gonna bruise up if I don't ice 'em."

You look a little closer then, at his fingers curled around the handle of your fridge. His knuckles are a little swollen, bruised up and red where the skin had split. It doesn't look too bad, much less serious than any other injury he'd come to you with, but that doesn't change the itching in your own fingers. You want to help him- now more than ever it seems.

"Shit- sorry." You breathe out, nearing a little to get a closer look. "I was so freaked I didn't even think about asking- are you okay? You're okay, right? Nothing else, no bones or blood or-"

"Calm down. 'm fine."

You look at him again, squinting for eyes for a moment. He just rolls his own, extending his arms out and flipping them. He was telling the truth- there's only one other scratch on him, and even that was already scabbed over. The only issue were his knuckles- and that sets you at ease.

"You want me to wrap them for you?" You ask, looking up at him. "Oh wait- actually, you'd probably want to do that yourself, huh? Since you're not on the brink of death this time and actual-"

"You do it."

"Huh?"

"I said- you do it." He won't meet your eyes, turning back to your fridge and opening it up once more. He makes himself right at home, grabbing one of the water bottles off the shelf without asking. "Did it all the other times, so you do it. Don't think you're gonna get away with cuttin' corners on me."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, that I know you find it annoying when I'm all fussy so I just-"

"Shut up already. You continuing to run your mouth is the only thing that's annoying me right now."

You're about to retort, something offended and assuredly juvenile, but you decide against it. That night had been filled with far too much conflict for your liking, and you weren't about to incite more of it. If he wanted you to wrap his knuckles, then you'd wrap his knuckles. You figured it's the least you could do for him.

Turning your back on him, you start for the bathroom, and the first aid kit inside. A part of you considers just permanently moving the kit into the kitchen, but that sort of seems like you're just inviting more misfortune. You keep hoping that one day you'll stop having to patch Bakugou up at all, but from the looks of it, that isn't likely. Not even a little bit considering his obvious bloodlust.

"You wanna-" You start, walking back into the kitchen. You're shocked into stillness by the sight of him searching through your cupboards. "Um, what exactly are you doing?"

"Hungry."

"Okay, caveman, I just- you're not seriously trying to cook right now are you?" You near him, hands hovering in the air. You're sure he wouldn't appreciate it, but a large part of you just wants to grab at his shoulders and shove him away from everything. "Stop that- lemme get you fixed up first. Then I can call for something. I'm not gonna let you exert yourself any more than you already have."

Bakugou seems a little perturbed by that, whipping his head around until you can see wild red eyes. You almost sigh; what you wouldn't give for him to just chill out for once.

"I'm not saying you can't cook. You probably could, I don't know." You near a little more, dropping the first aid kit onto the countertop. "I'm saying, you've already done enough today, and you deserve to take it easy. So let me help you by wrapping your hands up. That's all."

Bakugou's in the midst of another internal struggle, before he visibly forgoes it. His shoulder's drop and the tension leaks until he's settling into one of your dining chairs. He sets his hands out on the table, clearing his throat at you until you kick into motion.

At this point, cleaning up his hands is practically a daily chore. You've gone through the motions more than enough times to be adjusted, but even still, his hands still freak you out a little. You'd never seen anyone who radiated so much heat- even just being next to him was like sitting in front of an open flame.

Your fingers are gentle, skidding over his hands with feather-light touches. He seems to slump in his chair, eventually just laying his head on the outstretched arm you weren't actively working on. He watches you closely the entire time though, red eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"Do it again." He says. "Too loose. Do it again."

You're half-way through wrapping his right hand, only a small amount of bandage left. Not only would you have to do the bandage over entirely, but you'd have to unwrap it completely first.

"You always say that," You mutter, exasperation coloring your voice. "What makes it so much better the second time around, huh? I do it the exact same."

"It's just better. Takes longer."

You're not really sure what he means by that, and Bakugou doesn't look all that thrilled that he said the words at all. He jumps in his chair, cheeks gone pink as he digs his face into the skin of his arm. He's hiding.

It strikes you as even but odd, but you shrug off the strangeness all the same. You're getting far too used to his particular brand of bizarre.

"All better now?" You goad, patting the bandage after you've finished re-wrapping. "Everything feel nice and perfect for Prince Bakugou?"

He lifts his head. "You're not funny."

"You always say that too. But it's okay, I know one day you'll finally come around and appreciate me."

He just laughs under his breath, but he smiles too. Grins something tiny and small that he hides in his shoulder.

You start finishing up his other hand, and Bakugou doesn't say anything otherwise. He just sits, resting his head on his arm, and watching you intently. He's all calm and even breathing, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. You'd thought him adrenaline-crazed earlier, but it seemed he was coming off of that high rapidly. You could feel the exhaustion too- almost lulled by your movements just as much as he was.

You start gathering away all of your materials, and he doesn't even move. Just sits in perfect stillness at your table.

"I- I didn't accidentally touch you right? That's not why you're like that?" You ask, smothering a yawn. "Super exhausted, I mean."

He shakes his head. "Nah. Normal tired. Didn't fuck up this time, leech."

You don't have it in you to respond, hardly even rolling your eyes at his remark. His jabs don't hold much bite anymore- you begin to wonder if he's actually getting nicer or if you're just growing a ridiculous tolerance.

You brush off the thought, pushing away from your table and rising from the chair. "You still hungry?"

"Yeah. Wanna sleep first though so don't worry about it."

"Okay; well, I'm definitely going to so-"

"I said don't." He supplies evenly, finally sitting up in his seat. "It's fine. 'm not fuckin' starvin' or anything."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

His insistence sells you, but you're not sure if it's because you actually believe him or because you just want to. Either way, you figure it doesn't matter much in the end, not to the way your limbs are quickly bowing to exhaustion. You feel the fatigue settling in, and you'd like to blame that for your next actions.

"C'mon then, sleep time, I guess." You say.

Then you cross the kitchen, passing behind him, dropping your hand on his shoulder. You hardly let it sit, just running your thumb over his shirt once, twice, and then continuing on your way.

He takes several seconds to finally follow you into the living room. Enough to have you looking back in confusion, unable to understand why he looked so very stunted where he still sat.

"Jesus, you're annoying." He finally grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

His steps are loud as he crosses the room, stopping just a few inches in front of you. He grabs at your arm, raising your wrist himself and plucking the glove off in one fluid grab. It if wasn't so sudden an action- so ridiculous and fast and borderline violent, you might have even been flustered.

As it was though, he just grabbed your wrist before you could really register it.

Familiar warmth floods your veins. The same burning, slow heat that makes it;s way through each vein and artery. You think maybe your knuckles ache a little bit too, but it's too hard to tell through your quickly increasing sleep fog.

Bakugou lets you go pretty quick, falling back on your couch in almost the same moment.

"Better?" You ask, mirth warming your words. "Had to do it yourself because I was taking too long?"

"No, 'cause you pissed me off."

"Doing what?"

"You know what you're fuckin' doing."

Then he's grabbing the blanket, settling it over himself gracelessly while he flops over. He's face-first into the cushions now, effectively ending the conversation in much the way he typically does- by refusing to engage entirely.

You just roll your eyes a litItle fondly, still not even beginning to understand.

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ooooo boy i am so sorry y'all for this late uPDATe,,, pls i usually update my fics way faster than this but sometimes life rlly just do be happenin lmaoooooo

n e wayz, ty for reading and supporting my work!! y'all are the absolute best i could ever ask for!!!

[neakco]

Would Anyone Care?

Ao3 Masterlist

Warning: potential thoughts of suicide though they can also be taken as the character just wishing to run away.

This is a prequel to my one-shot Wait for It but can be read on its own.

Tim and Marinette feel alone in the world that won't stop hurting them and wonder if it would just be better if they disappear

Tim sat in his nest and stared blankly at his laptop. He knew he had missed patrol and yet no one had tried to check in or make sure he was okay.

 

He laughed darkly. Would they even notice if he disappeared? Would they try to find him?

 

He flopped backwards off his chair with a satisfying crash. He just wanted someone in his family to say they were proud, to say that the work he did, the work he near killed himself to complete, mattered.

 

He slowly stood and shuffled to the window, “What if?” And he leapt.

 

He closed his eyes as the air passed swiftly. The air growing warmer as he plummeted, it was freeing.

 

Finally he let his cape snap open to catch him and grappled back up to his window. He picked up his chair before taking his laptop and sprawling on the ground to continue browsing aimlessly.

 

Maybe tomorrow night he would disappear.

 

 

Marinette looked over the final piece in her new collection. The final piece in her cry for help.

 

Tomorrow, tomorrow she would wear it and see who noticed. If the trend continued though, and she had a feeling it would, than no one left would notice. If that happened then maybe she should disappear for good.

 

She was just so tired. Constantly making gifts, banners, & treats, keeping track of schedules and losing more and more of herself everyday. Soon there would be no more of her to give.

 

 

Tim was sure how he had gotten to this point, but he was scrolling through a fashion blog. The designer tended to make everyday outfits inspired by heroes from around the world.

 

He never would have predicted that it would be clothes of all things that had him crying and finally processing his emotions but here he was, looking at a red and black Superboy jacket next to a Red Robin sports dress and crying. He missed his friends.

 

It took a mocha to finally calm him down enough that he could continue to browse. Maybe he could get the two outfits for himself and combine them with the shoes styled after Impulse.

 

Then he came upon the newest line. It was just so different from everything else that it didn’t sit quite right. Nothing against the Hidden in Plain Sight line, the clothes were well crafted. They were just plain compared to the designers usual work. All the outfits were one solid colour with one near hidden detail that screamed “notice me”.

 

He clicked on a plain looking black shirt to enlarge it and finally managed to spot the bright purple inner lining barely peaking above the collar. Then there jeans with green cuffs, white sweater with neon orange zipper, and many more.

 

Tim windows opened to all the different outfits and zoomed onto the spots of brightness. He didn’t know how long he had been staring at them when he got up to get a coffee. There, in the bright patches, letters. He had only been able to see them because of the screen discoloration when he was standing. The colours were almost perfect, being the seems matched he knew the designer had done this on purpose.

 

Six in the evening two days later and Tim almost had it, but there was a piece missing. There had to be.

 

On cue the designer, Miraculous Costumes, posted the last piece. A dark blood red sports dress with near invisible spots. The splash if colour here appeared to be the small dying pink cherry blossoms along the bottom. If that wasn’t  worrying enough he finally decoded the whole message.

 

“Would anyone notice if I disappeared? All-consuming, confusion, I am done and this is goodbye.”

 

“Shit.” Time set his laptop to trace the designer, and maybe it was the two days he had gone without sleep, but Tim needed this designer. Their designs had made him want to live, there was no way he could leave them in the pit of despair he was all too familiar with. He pulled out his phone and scrolled down to W, Diana like fashion, maybe she knew how he could contact the designer behind MC.

 

 

Marinette swung her feet as she balanced precariously on the balcony. She missed her friends, hell, she missed Hawkmoth. Plagg and Tikki patted her cheeks in comfort.

 

“Thank you.” She stood with a strength she no longer possessed and glanced at the distant stars. “Would anyone want me if they knew how I really felt? If they could see me for all of me?”

 

Not hearing an answer, she turned to look for the kwami and was startled to see Red Robin.

 

“I am sorry for dropping in like this, but I saw your new line of clothes.”

 

Her eyes widened, “But that’s all anonymous.”

 

“Sorry.” His head hung low, “I figured out the clues and I knew I had to talk to you. I may or may not have tracked your ip address.”

 

She tried to keep the disbelief from her face, “Why didn’t you just message me?”

 

The Red vigilante grabbed both her hands in his, “Because I needed you to hear my sincerity and not mistake it for something else.” He took a steadying breath, “I won't lie, even to myself.” Another breath, “I have never felt worthy enough, not for my birth family, not for my current family and I have felt even less worthy of being a vigilante. Some people have called my life blessed or easy, but I would give up all of it just to once feel good enough.”

 

“But what does that have to do with my designs?”

 

“Seeing your work made me smile, well I cried first, but I felt so happy knowing that I had inspired something so beautiful. Then knowing that my friends had been immortalized in such a practical way, I just had to tell you.” He let her hands free and looked down, “Look, I don’t know what is going on in your life, if you’re dying inside or in pain, but let me help. Please,” He looked up and she could tell he was crying under the mask, “Please let me be your reason to live.”

 

She was moving to pull him into a hug before realizing it. The tears just wouldn’t stop.

 

The kwamis peaked out from behind her bed with smiles. Their guardian would be okay now. The loss of everyone she loved had been hard, she had been so strong to go on so long without breaking. They knew she would fight to live again now, this Red Robin was just what the universe called for. Maybe , if they were lucky, he would also be just what they needed to bring Nooroo home.

[tipsydipsydo]

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Gender of the Reader: female

Word Count: 3.7k

Alternative Universe: CEO! AU

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut!

Warnings: Sexual Language + a bit Dirty Talk; Dom-/Sub-Themes (Dom! Hoseok x Sub! Reader); Sadism; Masochism; Degradation; Oral (m); Deepthroating; Cum-Eating; Sextoys; Lingerie; Pet-Play (Collar + Leash); Bondage; Spreader-Bar; Exhibtionism/Voyeurism; Teasing + Edging; Begging; Praising; Orgasm Control; rough (!) unprotected vaginal Sex (please stay safe!); very light mentions of alcohol (one sentences)

A/N: Over the weekend I looked through my old writing folders and... I think I've found some little diamonds in there.

Honestly, I'm impressed by myself.

I've rewritten the perspective of this story here and added some little details but in general I translated the original.

I hope you'll enjoy my old work as much as I did it. 😈💜

By the way... I wrote this story with barely 15.

Let me know what do you think about this story~ 👀🙈

Sneak Peak: "Laying open, completely helpless and so vulnerable in front of him. Presented like a meal on a silver tablet. His meal, his prey. Your wolf is starving, licking his lips with an animalistic and devilish smile at the sight of your parted pussy lips. Revealing his most desired things, this swollen and sensitive clit and this pretty tiny pussyhole. Clenching around nothing, literally begging to get filled with his fat cock and stuffed up with his cum until it’s leaking out of his little sweet swan..."

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Do not repost, plagiarize, translate or use any of my work in general!

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Thank you.

With a soft, barely audible click you open the door. A cold breeze welcomes you and caresses your body, giving you goosebumps. Slowly you step out of your bedroom and walk down the long corridor with well-considered steps.

The bright light of the full moon falls through the white, wide open double doors and guides your way. Your black heels clicking softly on the expensive parquet floor and the chains on the straps jingle seductively with every step, giving you self-confidence. Let you sound erotic and elegant without Hoseok even having seen you.

You pause within the frame of the double doors. Looking at the tall man, who’s standing at the huge panoramic window and looking down at Seoul. On the 20th floor you have a breathtaking view.

The moon is full and round, bathing everything in a soft, mystical light. The light breaks in Hoseok's dark hair and makes him look almost angelic. Even though you know he's the devil in an angel’s costume. 

He doesn't turn around to you, waiting for you to come to him.

You look at him closely. The tailored suit fits perfectly around his muscular body. His body proportions are in perfect harmony, he’s a breathtaking attractive man. Add this to his height, it makes him look really intimidating. Sublime.

His face has sharp, masculine features. Controlled. He controls everything. He loves to possess power and to demonstrate it all too clearly. He never loses his temper or acts impulsively. When it comes to those sessions between you two, there are no actions leaded by emotions, only controlled and thoughtful activities. He knows behind every single one its meaning, why he does this.

His skin has a sensual and seductive honey-gold tone. In stark contrast, his eyes shine in a cool, almost black brown. You have never seen such a dark eye colour and maybe that’s it what attracts you to him. 

This special, rare thing about him makes him incredibly attractive for you. It's like having a very rare diamond. It's the uniqueness of it that makes you want to own it. But in your case, it's the other way around. He owns you. And that's what makes you feel fulfilled.

Even though others may not see it that way, he gives you so much of himself. With it you not even mean the material things, he gives you so much of his love.

Yes, it’s love. His affection and loving torments, how he cares for you, the way he gives you commands and taking control. That is what fills you the most and it’s also the reason why you can give yourself completely to him. Hoseok takes your control and turns it into his own.

Others would panic if they were deprived of personal control. But if he takes it from you, then he will take care of you, so you can let yourself fall. Giving you more control than before. You trust him, he knows your limits and keeps to them strictly. He has control over everything and leaves nothing to luck or chance. That’s the reason why you trust him so much. He doesn’t act impulsively and rashly, he never crosses the boundaries.  

This control, this power that he has and exercises on others is what fascinates you so much. You love this dominance in him, it gives you a sense of security and safety. He doesn’t make any mistakes, you can completely let yourself go with him. Finally you have found the person who fits you perfectly. He has this special power, dominance and control and what you want is to submit to him completely, to obey him. 

Just the sight of him and this dominant aura around him excites you. You breathe out audibly and can hardly take your eyes off him. You know that you’re not undiscovered. Hoseok knows perfectly well that you are standing here, shamelessly staring at him. But he doesn't say anything, doesn't rebuke you, because he loves your awestruck, admiring gaze.

He knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He knows, no, he feels it in every fiber of his body how much you want to submit to him and beg him to give you any kind of relieve or satisfaction. His self-satisfied smile is already visible on his lips.

Your breath hitch, you shallow hard, your décolleté rises and falls quickly. Now you realize how hard your buds already are under the very fine tip of your negligee. The reason for this are these wild fantasies that are haunting you in your pretty head.

How you would love it to be tied to the bed again. Lying completely exposed under him, while he pours champagne over your breasts and letting it run over your stomach onto your until it collects in your navel. How much do you long for him to punish you when you are dying of lust and can't keep still... 

Every warning bite on your nipples sent a wave of sweet pain through your body, causes that a lot more of your juice is flowing out of you. You can remember how you moaned as you writhed under him, completely exposed and helpless to face his punishments. You thought at first, he’d give you finally some relieve when he pushed the vibrator into your clenching hole. But still, he refused to let you cum... 

His face was filled with pure satisfaction, he enjoyed hearing you beg... even dirty words left your otherwise shy mouth, out of pure desperation. That brought an amused smile on his lips. 

Hoseok loves to demonstrate his power and influence, it amuses himself how quickly you've fallen for the devil. No wonder he keeps calling you "my defiled angel." But you are so aroused by his arrogance, his self-confidence and cockyness. There's nothing you can do about it. You've gone right into his trap. The big bad wolf has captured the innocent Swan. The dying swan. Blood, the dark red blood stains the snow-white, pure feathers, while the black wolf's canines around her throat. 

"Turn the music on.” It’s the first thing that Hoseok say to you this night. His voice is deep and commanding, you obey his commands all too willingly. 

You step quietly to the stereo and turn it on. His chosen CD must be already in the music player. Now the sounds of slow piano play and the dark, erotic voice of a woman fill the plain, unadorned room.  White walls with light wooden beams, white leather couch and some fake fur blankets lie over the armrests of the furniture, which however look very real. A huge plasma TV dominates the room, together with some large boxes. On the right wall there is a huge bookshelf. Only filled with works in their original languages. Hoseok knows them all perfectly. 

Your ears focus on the slow but stimulating song that comes quietly out of the speakers. Toxic. Involuntarily you have to think immediately of this korean man, who still looks unperturbed at the huge metropolis to his feet. 

Too much time has passed, you made him wait, which he absolutely hates! You swallow nervously, at the sound of his voice you should have noticed it immediately! He sounded a little annoyed and waiting. Others would not have heard it, but you have already learned to hear that little difference. The emphasis of the words alone! God, how stupid and inattentive you are! Hoseok hates it when his counterpart doesn't concentrate completely on him and his wishes. Then he becomes very unpleasant and just his cold gaze punish you more than any spanks. 

With a weak stomach and chewing nervously on your lower lip, you start moving and slowly walk towards him. The translucent chiffon hugs your naked thighs tenderly and the cool air on your uncovered womanhood shoots a stimulating tingle through your body. Under this almost completely transparent black negligee you’re wearing nothing.

Your face is adorned with a filigree venetian mask. It is made of black metal and the transparency of it gives you just little anonymity. At the ends it is adorned with dark green diamond particulas and and on the bridge of your nose sparkles an emerald diamond. At his request you wear this outfit.

Your breasts sways gently with every step, the lace fabric rubs against your hard nipples and let the hot ball in your abdomen grow bigger. The small lust balls swings a little in yourself, let hot shivers of lust running down your spine. The light swinging of the balls in your sextoy heats your desire up with every step, so that your arousal is already running down the insides of your thighs. Let the beguiling smell of femininity exude.

You have to bite your lower lip in order not to whimper out loudly and your hands turns into fists, you wish, you could touch yourself for some relief. You’re so unbelievable desperate, even you would call yourself pathetic. But without his own instructions, Hoseok wouldn't find this funny at all and would punish you without any mercy for your indiscipline.

"How can I serve you, Master?" you ask quietly, your head lowered submissively, after stopping a few meters behind your dom. At first, Hoseok doesn't react until he slowly turns around after two minutes. "Why did you wait so long, Y/N? Why were you late?" he asks in a calm, demure tone. 

"I...I...", you start stuttering, looking for an excuse that doesn't sound as pathetic as the actual reason. That you were dreaming away and forgot the time. But Hoseok knows you and sees through your intentions immediately. 

He steps towards you, threatening you and overtowering your small frame. His aura is suddenly freezing cold and even if you can't see his face, you know that you would only find cold anger and displeasure in it.  How his jaw would be clench and his nostrils would be flaring as if he had actually problems to control himself. But his gaze is the most humiliating. 

Cold, icy dark brown, almost black eyes. Showing only resentment and disappointment. 

"Are you thinking about lying to me right now, Y/N?", he asks with a harsh and growling voice that has nothing in common with anything melodic anymore. You should have known never, really never lie to Mr. Jung Hoseok. 

"Answer me!", he groan angrily and impatiently, assessing you like a hungry predator. As soon as you admit you wanted to lie to him, he will pounce on you and tear you apart. But that's what makes you hot, you like to play with fire, you like to test your limits with him, love the thrill and excitement of being punished again. 

You’re so uncomfortable right in the moment, your gaze searches over shiny parquet floor, not daring to look up. You don't even know if you are allowed to. But this dangerous aura of Hoseok's dominance lets a little moan escape your throat. Lust takes over your body, taking every fiber of your whole being.

Finally you dare to look up carefully, but you doesn’t look him in the eye.  "I-I'm sorry, M-Master..." you mumble inaudibly. A sigh comes from your husband, who shakes his head. The moonlight shimmers in his hair, reminding you a bit of the velvety fur of a black panther. 

"...And I thought I reached you better. Why are you always so dreamy and inattentive? Is it that what you want? Do you long for punishments, my little swan?," he cooed as he approached you and grabbed your hair, pulling it not really gently back so you would look at him. His black eyes searching yours, looking inside you. He can read your mind you like an open book. 

He sees all your desires, your desires for him. The desire to submit to him and to let the dirtiest things be done to you. It makes you hot, it makes you horny. Pure desire, lust and despair pulsates through your body. Sexual need, the longing for sex, naughty play sessions, punishment and redemption dominates your mind and body.  A greedy fire of passive passion blazes hot inside you.

His gaze, which consumes everything of you, frees you with his eyes from the little bit of cloth, which you still carry on your body. Exposes and humiliates you. But you love to e under control of this dominant Korean man, following his will. The confirmation can be seen on your body, your arousal can almost be smelled. 

You want to swallow, but your body trembles with excitement like aspen leaves and a thin layer of sweat lies on your skin. The tight-fitting choker collar with its many details and chains reminds you at this moment more of a dog collar... It turns out for a good reason.

A pant leaves your full lips and you look at him with eyes, veiled in lust.  "Please punish me, Master! I-I want, I need to be punished for my stupidity! M-Make anything you want with me!" it bursts out of you, your voice trembles in lust. He begins to smile arrogantly and amusedly, releases your hair from his merciless grip and instead gently caresses your neck.  

"Good girl...", he says tenderly, praises you for having realized that you deserve an appropriate punishment for your misconduct. Suddenly he pushes your hair on your left shoulder, to get to the clasp of the chocker. Then something very cold hits your warm neck, causing you to flinch. You look up confused and discover a black leather leash, that is attached to your choker. Hoseok encourages you with an uninterpretable smile and tug on the leash.

"Come, my little.", he commands and you follow him well-behaved. A wild tingling sensation takes over your body and you are so curious to know what he has planned for you.  A lustful moaning escapes your mouth when you see where he is leading you.

To your pleasure room.

He opens the room quietly and you enjoy the smell that is still hanging in the air.  Suede, lacquer and a little bit more of the sparkling sweetness of your past play sessions. The light is dimmed, gives the whole thing an erotic-sensual touch. Your relationship is a little different.

Of course, he punishes you with tender slaps and spanks, tortures you until you die of sweet pain that’s paired up with irrepressible lust, but with you everything is based more on the balance of power. 

You enjoy being submissive, being given orders and being dominated. He loves to demonstrate his power to control you.  It doesn't have to have anything to do with physical pain, it's simply about the principle of power play. It excites you to be led and humiliated by him. To see his proud and superior, but also lustful smile.

Your master goes to the restored, antique-looking wing chair with the mahogany wooden feet. He sits down in it and straightens up in the armchair almost threateningly.  "On your knees," he says in a commanding tone, that is otherwise only found in the military and make an elegant gesture to you, to get down on your knees. 

Your heart makes a jump, his commanding voice only makes your pussy lips and clitoris swell even more. What would you give to have him eating you out. What... what would he do it if you’re literally offering yourself to him? But you do what you are ordered to, kneeling down to his feet and waiting for that what comes next.

"And now... lick them off", the order comes from above and he holds out his shiny polished brown suede shoe. You falter... You have to lick his shoes...? Unsure you look up to him with an questioning look. A nod of encouragement is returns to you. You swallow before carefully taking his left foot in your hands and holding it to your lips. 

This really makes you a bit uncomfortable and that's exactly why there is such a treacherous pull in your abdomen. Only more of your juice is flowing down your thigh. A little bit awkwardly you start to lick over the leather, getting over the time more and more eager and you end up enjoying it even in a precarious way.  The bitter taste of material is new for you, but with shy looks you squint at Hoseok, who obviously enjoys the sight. Lust seizes your body anew and you surrender completely to your humiliating punishment.

He grabs a handful of your hair and pulls you up a little. Between his legs, to his crotch. You look at him excitedly and this animal lust in his dark eyes says more than every word. 

Eagerly you open his trousers and pull down the waistband of his black shorts. His rock-hard cock jumps towards you and almost unrestrainedly you give yourself to his unspoken command. Licking all over this gorgeous shaft, massaging his balls and inhaling this musky scent of his groins. Pulling the foreskin back from his tip to give sweet kitten licks on his exposed crown. 

Hoseok's lustful look lies heavy on you, until he puts a hand on the back of your head and decides for himself what you do or don't do. He fucks your mouth in a controlled manner, guides your head and you enjoy the salty taste of his presumably on your nimble tongue. A muffled groan rises up Hoseok's throat before his cum runs down your throat. Willingly you swallow everything, licking lasciviously over your lips and give him a seductive look. You love that smug look on his face. 

"Such a good little swan you are for me...," he rewards you, gets up an lead you to the finally giant king-size bed, which is covered in black silk. 

He ties your leath tightly to the metal crossbars on the headboard so that you can hardly move. Exactly this fact causes a wave of electrifying lust flickers through you and you whimper willingly as you have to pull your knees up to your chest, as he ties your wrists with red rope to your ankles and attaches a spreader bar between your knees.  

He smiles smugly at you, your whole body is almost completely consumed by the pleasure you feel in being so exposed to him. His hand tenderly caresses your sweaty thigh and his fingertips play with your swollen clitoris. Then he clears his throat.  

"My little swan... You have mastered your punishment so well, now you may have the right to choose a reward... what would it be?" he asked tenderly and his dark lustblown pupils look into yours.  You tremble under his haunting gaze, your body soon burns from the inside out, such heat rages within you. The wish is already on your tongue, but your shame is still too big to say it out loud. 

"What do you wish, my beautiful swan?," Hoseok encouraged you with his dark, erotic voice and a... kinda diabolical smile. 

"Fuck me, Master! P-Please! I-I want you to stretch my tiny pussy open with your hard cock, I want you to be merciless, ruin me like you desire and fill me up with your thick cum!", you almost scream out with dark red cheeks. In that moment, he had pulled the lustballs out of you, with only one single tug.

You breath quickly, panting almost like a dog bitch in heat. Laying open, completely helpless and so vulnerable in front of him. Presented like a meal on a silver tablet. His meal, his prey. Your wolf is starving, licking his lips with an aminalistic and devilish smile at the sight of your parted pussy lips. Revealing his most desired things, this swollen and sensitive clit and this pretty tiny pussyhole. Clenching around nothing, literally begging to get filled with his fat cock and stuffed up with his cum until it’s leaking out of his little sweet swan.

Without any warning Hoseok sinks mercilessly and deeply into you, didn’t let you adjust to his long and girthy length. The rhythm is hard and fast. It’s exactly what you were begging for. Lust has taken over your mind and there was no room for shame. Hoseok pants heavily and bury himself deeper and deeper into you, reaching your cervix what let you cry out in pain and pleasure. You hardly know how to handle your lust, it feels like as if everything is already too much but still not enough to pleasure the greedy desire in your body. He fucks you so good, you’re overflowing with juices.

Your pussy makes lewd squelching sounds, these noise turns you on beyond belief and let your desperate cunt literally dripping onto the sheets. The smell of primal, animalistic and uninhibited sex is hanging heavily in the air.  Hoseok's white dress shirt gets sweat stains and this sight, this feeling of his pure lust makes you float.

You’re getting closer and closer in no time. The fact of getting brutally used only for Hoseok’s own pleasure let your own lust increase, building it higher and higher into the sky. The thought alone to know, that he’ll take you this night definitely to the point of pure exhaustion gets you high. Yes, maybe you are a nymphomaniac, but at this moment you want nothing more than to get fucked and breeded by Hoseok like the cockslut you truly are.

Your body burns, is ablaze with light and finally... finally that moment comes when all that pent-up lust bursts out of you. Your body trembles and you scream, whimpering out the lust of your orgasm. The world explodes before your inner eye in the most beautiful colors.

Only a few minutes later, Hoseok is already sitting in front of you again, smiling devilishly and watching his cum slowly dripping out of you. 

The night has just begun.

Yes, you are the fallen angel who has fallen to the devil. 

You are the white swan who fell victim to the black wolf.

[incoherentbabblings]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Young Justice - All Media Types, Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake Characters: Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, Cassie Sandsmark, Kon-El | Conner Kent Additional Tags: Missing Scene, Kissing, Romance, Established Relationship, Tim Drake is Drake (DCU), Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, Minor Canonical Character(s), Fluff and Humor, Light Angst Summary:

Expanded scene for Young Justice (2019) #15. Tim and Steph finally get to reunite after the team’s reality hopping adventure, and whilst Tim is keen for Stephanie to be (re)introduced to his friends, Stephanie isn’t sure she belongs.

Tim watched as people piled up the big green monsters into one giant pile of unconsciousness. He was standing on top of his pickup truck; the one Stephanie had apparently driven halfway across America without even a scratch to come meet up with him.

Tim watched as she very awkwardly extracted herself from a conversation with Jackson and Derek, not sure what to say or do, and made a beeline towards Tim. He tried to control his expression as she did so. He wasn’t disappointed in her, but he had hoped she would be able to feel comfortable enough around a bunch of strangers to strike up a friendly conversation or two. At the same time, he understood. Afterall, they hadn’t really gotten their reunion yet. At least, not the one that Steph had teased about wanting.

Tim could see her slight nervousness in the way she held her shoulders as she looked up at him, face hidden under her black mask and purple hood.

“We done? No more bad guys to punch?”

Two days they’d said. Two days and they would find each other.

They’d known it was a promise neither could keep, and things had very understandably gotten out of hand, but still, Tim felt like he had disappointed her.

“We’re done.”

He reached down, tugging her up onto the roof of the truck. She didn’t need the help, but he wanted to see how readily she took his arm.

She did so immediately, without hesitation, a light laugh bubbling out as she was heaved upwards. Stephanie was deceptively light, or maybe Tim was deceptively strong. Regardless, he tugged up until she was able to twist onto the roof on her butt. She then pulled herself up to standing to be level with Tim.

She was smiling under her face cover.

“Can I take off my mask, do you think? Do you trust them all?”

“Yes,” he replied immediately. “They’re our friends Steph.”

His heart broke a little that she didn’t quite understand it yet. It was a bit of a white lie, but Tim saw no reason why it could not be the truth. They had left Gotham for many reasons, altered timelines being one of many, but another was simply the desire to go new places, meet new people, and have a life outside of the damn Bat for two weeks.

Finding his friends again, finding that safe space... He wanted Steph to find her own place within it. He had mentioned it to Cassie, Kon and Bart on the rare quiet moment during their interdimensional travels. He didn’t want there to be a hard line between his life in Gotham and life with them. He didn’t see the need. Not anymore.

Needless to say that the three of them took his thoughts very well. Yes, the four of them were finally reunited. Enough with the melodrama; be grateful that they could spend time together once more and stretch it out and milk that time for all it was worth. Remember how easily it was taken away?

Besides, it couldn’t do Steph any harm to have friends too, right? Admittedly she was a bit rough around the edges, as socially awkward as she was genuinely kind, but then again it wasn’t like the team were exactly behaving at peak social norms either. Bart alone was surely testament to that, right?

Steph was ignorant to Tim’s musings and continued their conversation.

“Good. Because,” she sang, pulling down her hood and her full-face mask off. “I need to give you that proper greeting, remember? Can’t wait any longer.”

Tim exhaled at the sight of her smile and long blonde hair, but it collapsed when she leaned in, eyes half shut.

“Wait,” he said, jerking back a little.

“What?” Stephanie asked, voice quiet and sad. Worried at the rejection, she put her hands up to rest on his chest. He flinched as she did so, and she felt like crying. “Oh no… Something happened didn’t it? Is it those memories you got back? Was I horrible in them? Because I’m really sorry if I was. I’m a different person now. Literally or metaphorically I dunno but…Or is it something that happened whilst you were away?”

She spoke with such sincerity despite the farcical nature of the statements, that Tim felt the need to put her out of her misery. He grasped her wrists and then intertwined their fingers when she raised her palm from his chest. He squeezed tight, and he saw her tremble.

“It’s not you. I didn’t keep my promise.”

“What?” Her voice shifted from upset at herself to the situation.

“You needed me. We said two days. And I tried but-but…”

Stephanie pouted at being denied affection for such a trivial reason as – as far as she saw it – losing track of time. Tim was punishing himself in that silly head of his, and by extension, it also felt so to Stephanie. She took a deep breath and mellowed out her tone.

“Stuff happens,” she responded firmly. She was not interested in a debate or Tim’s proclivity for self-flagellation. “I know you didn’t deliberately leave me hanging, so why would I resent it? Impulse mentioned reality hopping…”

Her look became worried as she drew the wrong conclusion. The confidence fled her as quickly as it had come. “Was it bad? Trauma? Where did you go? Is that where you got this outfit from because ooft honey –”

“You gave it to me.”

Stephanie paused, then tugged Tim’s hands round to hold her waist.

“I did what?” she scrunched up her eyes and face cutely, shaking her head like she was trying really hard to remember giving Tim a brown superhero suit without a cape and a yellow bat on the belt buckle. “Is it another missing memory? Because it’s so unfair that you have yours and mine are still wibbly wobbly. I’m actually a little peeved about it to be honest.”

“This costume. It was… we were…”

Like she was speaking to a toddler, she squeezed tight and said, “Start at the start. What happened after you got to Metropolis?”

Tim told her.

It was an oddly long story, and yet simultaneously brief. It was chaotic and frantic, and yet the affection with which Tim relayed the adventure with his friends made her chest warm. When he reached the misdirection of Earth Three, Stephanie’s patient and attentive expression turned a little distraught. She didn’t mind having the title of Batwoman, she didn’t mind being a good guy in a world of not good guys, but there was just the fact that…

“But you said everyone on Earth Three was evil? A flip of this earth’s morality.”

“I thought so. But you weren’t. You were good there too.”

This only served to further confuse Stephanie.

“But… but…but!” she gulped in a large pocket of air. “But that would mean this me is evil! Right? Am I evil? All this time we’ve been worrying about crazy bat you –”

“Ouch.”

“—But what if it’s me? You could have stayed and helped her right? But you didn’t. And she gave you that costume as what? A present? Something to remember her by? Oh, that’s romantic and sad. But what if this means that I’m the ticking time bomb? You could have stayed and made a huge difference, right? You could have… turned that whole place upside down and made it better for everyone. From the sounds of it, I’m sure not evil me would have been down to clown... Which, great. Now I’m gonna spend my days thinking that me getting the wrong Starbucks order is going to be my start of darkness or something equally stupid. Your friends will think I’m a lunatic...”

Her eyes darted backwards, looking at the team, chatting and oblivious. Superboy was sitting off to the side, quietly watching as everyone wrapped up their work, Wondergirl and Arrowette were catching up, whilst Impulse spoke to Jinny and Naomi. Stephanie felt abruptly ashamed and as a result shifted, almost trying to hide herself behind Tim.

With a firmness and certainty that reflected Stephanie when she had rebuked his earlier guilt, Tim pressed her cheeks together to make her face scrunch up in a pout

“You… are not evil. You never will be if I have any say in the matter. Think you’re about the least capable of it in Gotham, if not in the world. You pulled me back last month from the brink of being a monster. I’d say I’d do the same for you, but I’ll never have to. You’re not stained by the dark.”

She blinked owlishly. Tim was not often that grand and romantic (though he could be histrionic), so it made her blush to be spoken of so highly. Still, her nagging concern, an uncomfortable tightness in the pit of her belly, remained.

“You could have stayed there,” she insisted. She was holding onto the fact that Tim had returned wearing a costume and a name which had been gifted to him on another earth. A name from his alternate self and a costume from an alternate her. There was something to be dissected there right? What would a psychologist make of that tangle of identity and interpersonal relationships?

He had returned from an earth where motives were selfish, and heroes were rare. He had returned wearing a name that was simultaneously his and yet not, wearing a costume that was not hers to grant. Tim wanted more than anything to make a difference. That world was ripe for his ambition.

Tim did not even seem concerned at such a concept. For once, it seemed he had not even given the matter much thought.

“Sure. Maybe I could have stayed. She would have been happy if I had. That Stephanie didn’t have anyone to help her. She…I think she was very lonely.”

Steph sighed shakily, and Tim held her closer. He knocked his forehead against hers, and her grip went up to cradle his face. They kissed, and Tim heard and felt Stephanie’s right foot pop up.

Finally granted the kiss she had been craving for hours, Tim swallowed the sound of her whimper. Not even remotely ashamed of who could be watching, Stephanie deepened the kiss and moved closer, curving her body against Tim as she tugged at his neck, encouraging him to make it harder.

It had been too long, and Stephanie was sure she was developing a complex regarding Tim, like if she took her eyes off him for three seconds he would – for the third time in a year – be zipped off to another dimension. It was almost funny how much the two of them could apparently not stay joint at the hip as they desired, and Stephanie suspected she may have started developing some bizarre attachment disorder as a result.

Although, it was worth it for moments when they kissed like this. When Tim allowed himself to feel like a seventeen-year-old. Kissing felt good. Kissing Stephanie felt great. She always tasted of cinnamon gum and liked to hold his cheek and tug his hair and she made cute squeaks when he –

No, he couldn’t get too carried away.

Tim ended the kiss with a most content sigh, like his worries had been laid to rest forever (which was false and a lie, but he indulged in it for now), and kept his eyes shut.

“I came back,” he whispered, keeping his forehead on hers and missing how Stephanie looked a little cross eyed from the kiss. “Because I had to get home to you. I promised, even if I couldn’t keep to two days. I had to come home.”

“To me,” Stephanie breathed. Looking at him reverently, she cradled his chin and kissed him again.

“To you,” Tim confirmed. “I missed you, Steph.”

She tugged him closer, making him rest his forehead against her shoulder as she buried a hand in his hair.

“Missed you too, boy wonder.”

They embraced for a moment too long, then Tim pulled back a little to speak into her ear.

“Come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone. Properly. I’m sure Bart did a rush job of it. They already know you, which isn’t fair. You should get to know them again.”

He very distinctly felt her tremble. Fighting monsters, fine. Facing her dad down, fine. Meeting her boyfriend’s friends? Terrifying.

Tim hopped down off the truck, but held out his arms, fully intent on catching her. Stephanie looked around once more. It seemed Wondergirl and Naomi were wandering over to the truck, so she swallowed her fear. She leapt off the car, straight into Tim’s arms. He caught her easily and spun her around twice, making her laugh sharply, until using the momentum he flung her up and off. She landed on her feet with a delighted shriek, and it was with that smile on her face that Cassie reached them.

To Stephanie’s surprise and delight, she was enveloped in a warm hug.

“It’s so nice to see you again. Both of you,” Cassie said. Chin resting on Stephanie’s caped shoulder, Cassie saw Tim’s look of relief and gratitude. “You guys will stick around a bit?” she insisted, raising her eyebrows in a gentle chide.

Stephanie choked on her reply, not sure how to react. Behind her, Tim grimaced. Why was she so reluctant around his friends? Was it because she didn’t want to know them, or because she didn’t feel she had the right too?

“I… I want to,” she said, Tim watching her struggle. “But-but my dad…”

Stephanie looked over her shoulder at Tim for guidance, and Cassie broke out the hug. Seeing Stephanie’s hand reach back, Tim took it tightly. He could see in her face no disdain or dislike, just insecurity and the realisation that she didn’t know how best to say her father was a pressing issue without seeming like a haughty holier than thou girlfriend.

Paradoxically, Tim relaxed. That angle was much easier to deal with. It simply was that Stephanie was nervous, and unsure of what her place was in the team. They had their memories of each other back. She held no such memories. She felt locked out, and undeserving.

How to make her understand…

“We have one loose end to tie up at our end,” Tim explained. Playing with Steph’s fingers, he had a sudden thought as a solution. “After though, how about the fact that we’re gonna need to see if the place in Rhode Island is still standing? The team should be able to use it again.”

“Huh?”

Cassie chuckled at Steph's confusion, and smiled broadly at the thought of returning to Mount Justice.

“You’ll love it Spoiler. Better than living out the back of a truck, believe me.”

Stephanie seemed bemused, like she had just suspected Cassie of mocking her but also not hearing any genuine insult in the dig at her current living circumstances.

Cassie wasn’t mocking her. She didn’t have a passive aggressive bone in her body and was not capable of being underhand. She was only trying to gently tease, as a friend would do.

Not that Stephanie knew that, but still, Tim’s heart stuttered for her.

Tim kissed Stephanie’s cheek and explained, “It was Young Justice’s home away from home. There’s a whole headquarters up there. An old Justice League site.”

“We appropriated it,” Cassie said. Her eyes were patient and encouraging. Stephanie, meanwhile, still did not understand.

“That’s cool,” she said politely. Tim sighed good naturedly, exasperated at her obtuseness.

“Stephie,” Tim moaned as she burned red from the pet name in front of his friends. He jerked his head at Conner, begging his direct nature to intercede.

“Whu—”

Endlessly patient, Tim stated, “It’s gonna be your home away from home too. If you want it to be. It can be all of ours again.”

She could not reply, as she was then embraced in a bear hug courtesy of Superboy. Cassie smirked, then called for the others to come gather. Tim held onto Stephanie’s fingers, and watched carefully what Conner did and spoke. Tim had seen that melancholy look from earlier as Conner had watched the team.

Tim knew Conner was feeling a little out of place, but he was grateful that he had put it aside to help Tim and welcome Stephanie. Hidden to Stephanie, he mouthed a thank you in Conner’s direction, who responded by wiggling his head in smug satisfaction.

Stephanie remained oblivious, her only thought as she endured the hug was at the blatant display of strength and control that the clone displayed. She grunted when he squeezed the bear hug tighter but found herself smiling all the same. There was only genuine joy and laughter in Conner’s voice as he teased.

“Hey, we finally got the lovebirds in the same room again, huh? It’s been a while, Spoiler, even if Tim says you don’t remember.”

When he set her down, she returned to Tim, holding his hand still. She didn’t understand why Superboy saying such a thing made the pit of nerves in her gut settle, but the warmth that bloomed in her chest made her smile until her cheeks hurt.

“I’m sorry I don’t. Remember, that is.”

Conner shrugged, “Hey, we’re still young. Gotta lifetime to fix that. Or make new memories. Or both.”

Tim’s hand snuck round her waist, and he pressed his cheek to her temple.

“We’ll deal with your dad. Then we’ll go home?”

“Home?” Stephanie asked.

“Second home,” he quantified.

Looking at the friendly faces surrounding the pair of them, Stephanie smiled awkwardly and nodded.

A home away from home sounded…nice.

[ravenbloodau]

The Voyages of Ker'Tak and Skye

Ker'Tak's ship had landed on Earth, as ordered by the High Concil of Planets. They were ready and eager to explore this once uninhabited planet..

Or, what they had *thought* to be an uninhabited planet. Turns out the whole planet was teeming with intelligent life. Humankind, is what they introduced themselves as on an old satellite that the High Council had found.

Ker'Tak was relatively young, so their crewmates sent them out to scout amongst the younger generations of humans. Diguised, of course, to prevent fear amongst the younglings.

Their curiosity was peaked when they heard someone talking of a celebration of one of the younglings.

A "birthday party" celebrating the Human known as Skye Lafayette. Everyone appeared to just be calling her Skye, however.

"You should come, Eric," Human Gia, Skye's twin sister, as Ker'Tak gathered. "Eric" was his cover name, "she'd enjoy your humor!"

"Thank you Gia, I think I will attend," Ker'Tak nodded quietly. They were nervous, needless to say. Human younglings were so energetic, so spontaneous, and much stronger than their adult counterparts.

"Great! The party is Friday!" Gia waved good-bye as she ran off with other human younglings.

Ker'tak waved back, and watched as Gia ran with her pack.

They felt a strange warmth flush up in their face, as if this meeting meant something. These humans were small, insignificant, often useless.

Ker'Tak couldn't and didn't understand why the High Council was so interested in humans and their homeworld after the first reports were sent in.

"Keep observing, Ker'Tak, the younglings will be the ones we learn the most from," Ket'Sa ordered, "Who knows? Maybe these humans have more ability than we give them credit for."

Ker'Tak took that to say the High Council could use them as manual laborers. It seemed they had the ability for such work, and were significantly shorter than the Si'Tians.

Despite what little they knew about humans, however, Ker'Tak felt oddly at home amongst them. The members of their pod always called them strange, emotional, and at times impulsive. They took the insults as compliments and pressed on in their mission.

Friday, October 3rd rolled around and Ker'Tak found himself on the doorstep of Skye and Gia's abode. The loud noises from inside startled Ker'Tak, but they thought for a moment, pausing at the door.

This was a custom of humankind, they should be kind and respectful. They should knock.

They knocked cautiously, patiently waiting for a reply. Ker'Tak was startled by the sudden appearance of an identical youngling to Gia. It was Skye, they were sure of it.

The messy red streak in her hair and the oddly bright expression Skye carried, as Gia described her, caught Ker'Tak by surprise. They put on their best smile.

"Hey, is this were Skye's birthday party is?" Ker'Tak beamed awkwardly. Of course it was, they had made sure of it, but Human Skye took no notice of their fumble.

"Yep! You've got the right place!" She laughed it off, "You must be Eric, Gia told me about you! It's nice to finally meet you! I'm Skye!" Her introduction was quick, and she held out her hand to Ker'Tak.

Ker'Tak, unsure of exactly how to commence the "handshake" took Skye's hand. She shook their hand firmly, with a sort of glowing confidence.

This somehow got Ker'Tak to relax, and smile a little more genuinely.

"My name is Ka- Eric," Ker'Tak was almost caught using their true name. Skye laughed as she invited Ker'Tak in.

"Alright Ke-Eric, come in! We've got plenty of food, games, and a cake that'll be all set in a couple of minutes!" Skye led them in.

The atmosphere of this living-den was rather warm, disarmingly charming in it's own sense. Ker'Tak found themselves relaxing as they ate and talked alongside the crowd.

They laughed with Ker'Tak, telling their own jokes and making fun of silly things humans do. Ker'Tak learned that humans celebrated their dates of birth every year, using that to determine age, instead of every cycle around the sun at the same time each year for everyone.

The oddly decorated cake caught their attention, as it was decorated with symbols and letters from ancient languages Ker'Tak had seen before, and nearly everywhere they turned, something reminiscent of space and interstellar travel seemed to pop from the decor.

*You look like a Monkey*

*And you smell like one too!*

The songs ended, and Skye blew out candles that signified her age. Kar'Tek went to "use the bathroom." They had no intention of bathing, however.

Unfortunately, the current tech they were using to hide their appearance was running low on charge.

Kar'Tek had to find a reason to return to their ship before their cover was blown.

Gia's voice came from beyond the door.

"Eric? Eric, dude, you alright?" Gia called. Kar'Tek didn't answer as they tried to find something to work with to get away from the party.

"I am alright, just washing up!" Kar'Tek lied. The device around their wrist beeped loudly and the illusion dropped.

*No no no no no not now, I have to return to the ship* Ker'Tak stared into the mirror, now frightened by what the human younglings could do to them if they found themselves staring Ker'Tak down.

"Eric? Is that a blood sugar monitor? Are you sure you're alright?" Gia didn't give Ker'Tak time to answer, "Skye! Get the bathroom key! Eric's in trouble!"

"Eric?" Skye's voice bounced around the small room, "I'm coming in," Ker'Tak heard a small whisper, *"Please be decent."*

Skye stepped into the bathroom, closed the door and looked up from the floor. Her jaw dropped as Ker'Tak started to tremble before her.

"Eric?" Her voice dropped a tone as she reached out to Ker'Tak, "Is that you?"

Ker'Tak looked at Skye, and very *very* cautiously, they answered her.

"Human Eric did not exist, in truth. I am Ker'Tak, a Si'Nian, from far past your star. I was told to come and study humankind, under the orders of the High Council of Planets. I apologize for any inconvenience and any worry I may have caused you, Human Skye," Ker'Tak apologized, trying to keep their gaze to Skye's.

She seemed stunned, but neither fear nor shock was the overall emotion conveyed. It was awe that seemed to etch itself into her features.

"Ker'Tak, that explains earlier..And all those jokes, you were trying to understand," She whispered as her hands moved up toward her mouth, "You...You're incredible."

Ker'Tak was taken aback by this remark. Ker'tak was *below average* for their species, and this human youngling saw them as *incredible*?

"I believe you are mistake, Human Skye, I am below average for my kind, in height and emotional control. I am, as my colleges say, impulsive," Ker'Tak admitted ashamed.

"Impulsive isn't a bad thing, nor is being emotional," Skye started almost immediately, "You're incredible to me, and you would be to my friends."

"I do not believe your colleagues would appreiciate my being here, especially after I have disrupted such a special day for you and your pod-mate," Ker'Tak was still nervous, although Skye was a progressive and uniquely brave human youngling, they couldn't be sure of the other's reactions.

"Well, Ker'Tak, I can frame this as a planned part of the event, I am a sci-fi nerd. I can get you out of the house as long as you can stay a little longer. Are you in any pain?" Skye was concerned, it was showing in her expression.

Pain? Why would she be worried about pain? Does she really not know what Ker'Tak was capable of? Why was she being so kind to them?

"Ah, no, I am not in any pain Human Skye, I simply used an device that manipulated the light around me," Ker'Tak reassured her, still unsure of how to proceed, "I can stay longer, but how do you plan to get me out of your living-den?"

"Oh, I can tell them that you're in cosplay-" Skye paused, "we humans like to wear complicated outfits for the sake of fun, some of us mirror TV shows or fictional characters we enjoy, others come up with entirely new ideas and use them to create a series of costumes in order to tell a story."

"This plan involves telling your colleagues that I am in "cosplay"? Does that mean anything significant to them normally?" Ker'Tak inquired, rather confused as to how this plan could work.

"No, not normally, but they'll think it a nice touch to the space theme I've had going for this party, not much of it's accurate though, based mostly on science fiction," Skye admitted, halfway between her normal hue of peach and a bright red.

Ker'Tak nodded, understanding what she meant, and what she was trying to do.

"I am not insulted, in fact, it's rather curious how humans managed to invent the exact same language as another race we know as the Shin'Khan. But that is a discussion for another time," Ker'Tak let their worries lighten, maybe Human Skye was right to come up with such a simple plan, after all, she knew her kind better than they did.

"So you're willing to go through with the plan?" Skye asked and Ker'Tak nodded,patiently awaiting her instructions, "Ok, just, act ummm, I wouldn't say natural, but honestly just be yourself."

That was it? That was the plan? Ker'Tak nodded, now slightly concerned in Skye's certainty for saying these things, but they went along with it anyway.

"Skye? Is Eric alright?" Gia called to her sister.

"Yes! He's alright! In fact," Skye started to open the door, "Oh move out of the way!" Gia laughed as the crowd parted to give them room to step out of the bathroom.

Ker'Tak was hesitant, but the stepped out of the bathroom and awaited the reactions of Skye's peers.

The gasps of awe got Ker'Tak to open their eyes, and the younglings cheered and laughed.

"Eric! Skye! This is amazing! How did you get the costume in? And look that that makeup, it's amazing! You guys out did yourselves!" Gia laughed, "It looks so real."

Ker'Tak felt a wave of anxiety wash over them as Skye took one of their lower hands. She mouthed the words "It's ok. You'll be okay."

They nodded, and proceeded to continue the act of being Human Eric.

They proceeded to mess around with younglings, too, tapping them here and there as the festivities went on without a hitch.

Ker'Tak fell into the comfort of being themselves amongst the human younglings, but they choose to linger close to Skye. They didn't know it at the time, but that sense of security meant something significant to their species.

It meant that they could be accepted, and accept humans, as they were.

Towards the end of the evening, around 2000 hours, everyone had been dismissed from the gathering except for Ker'Tak.

"Hey Eric, I can walk you home if you want," Skye offered to escort them out of her living-den, most likely to protect them from any hostile humans.

"I would appreciate that, Skye," Ker'Tak walked towards the door and opened it for Skye.

Walking down the dim street, Ker'Tak found themselves distressed, looking down at Human Skye more and more often.

"Human Skye, if my crewmates discover that I have been seen like this, they may try to eradicate your memory of me," Ker'Tak admitted upon pausing under a street light.

Skye looked back at them, and smiled.

"I'm ok with that, I just want to make sure you get back alright. You've given me one of the best days of my life, Ker'Tak, and I hope to one day repay the favor, even if I don't remember you," Skye was kind in her response, but also greatly saddened by the fact that she would forget Ker'Tak.

They were truly remarkable to her, even if she knew very little about them. She found their way of speaking, their way of conveying emotion to be unique, and as powerful as any human expression of emotion.

Ker'Tak's distress grew as they saw Skye's eyes start leaking water.

"Human Skye, are you in distress? I did not mean to upset you!" Ker'Tak panicked a little, reaching out to the youngling, "You do not have to repay me, and I doubt that you will ever see me again after tonight."

"That's just the thing," Skye mumbled through her tightened throat, "I *want* to remember you, and get to know you better. It would be selfish though, not to take you back to your ship."

Ker'Tak was taken aback by this. They knew humans bonded easily to other animals, like the wolves and bobcats of the Earth, but to have "pack" bonded to them.. So quickly.. It was remarkable. The High Council certainly could not take such a bond away, not until they could study it further.

"It is possible you won't have to forget, Human Skye," Ker'Tak started, gingerly taking up Skye in their arms, "I could bring you back to the ship, and explain to them the events of tonight, and how you aided me to escape."

Skye sniffed halfheartedly taking up Ker'Tak's lower arms. Quietly she nodded.

"Lead the way."

Ker'Tak and Skye walked together quite a ways into the woods to get to Ker'Tak's ship. However, it is always hunting season in the backwoods.. *Especially at night.*

A gunshot was fired toward the two, and Skye let out a yelp of pain. Ker'Tak flinched, and in ducking behind an old wall in found just nearby, they saw Skye stumbling over. Something was dripping down her arm and chest.

"Ker'Tak..." The weakness in Skye's voice brought panic upon Ker'Tak. They debated the use of their comm, it would make sense as someone was hurt, badly by the looks of it.

Ker'Tak lept over, their legs moving springing them forward enough to catch Skye and get back out of the line of fire behind another wall.

"*KER'TAK, WE'RE BEAMING YOU BACK UP IMMEDIATELY*" Their Captain told them, and they were beamed back aboard the ship, Skye still wounded in their arms.

The wounded youngling let out a sharp cry, crying weakly as she struggled to breathe.

"OUT OF THE WAY! CLEAR THE WAY! WOUNDED HUMAN!" Ker'Tak landed with a running start, brushing past the Captain and rushed toward the medbay.

Immediately the Captain followed them, and watched as Ker'Tak worked to heal Skye's wound.

"Ker'Tak, my lung, the bullet's in..." Skye's vocals broke off into violent coughing as Ker'Tak managed to pull out the metal shrapnel in her side.

"Rest, and do try and hold still. This will hurt," Ker'Tak told Skye and she nodded. The sheer anguish on her face as they stitched up her lung and her skin almost got Ker'Tak to stop.

But they stitched her up and injected a growth steroid to speed up the process and avoid scarring. She would need to stay overnight, for safety's sakes.

"Ker'Tak, this human was harmed how?" The Captain asked as Ker'Tak closed the pod Skye was in.

"Another Human shot her with a primitive gunpowder weapon. Originally the weapon was aimed toward me," Ker'Tak admitted, "Human Skye was escorting me back to the ship after my disguise was dropped."

The Captain stiffened as they looked over at Human Skye.

"She's seen too much of us, you know we have to preform a memory wipe," The Captain began. Ker'Tak stopped them.

"Captain, Human Skye has expressed much *discomfort* in losing memories with myself involved. She is comfortable with us, in fact, she and her peers were very comfortable with me in my original form, even if they believed it to be a disguise," Ker'Tak looked over at Skye, "She saved my life."

"She...You called her Human Skye?" The Captain's expression dropped to a painful concern.

"Yes Captain," Ker'Tak nodded as the Captain looked them over.

"Well, Ker'Tak, it is time we contacted the Humans openly. Your comfort amongst them and their younglings confirms not only their intelligence and sympathy, but also their compatibility for the High Council's regulations and recommendations," The Captain smiled at Ker'Tak, "Well done, Doctor."

"Well done?" Ker'Tak asked, befuddled by their captain's sudden congratulations, "What do you mean?"

"I mean congratulations, you have offical made First Contact with the Humans, according to their knowledge. As of this moment, they will become a part of the High Council of Planets, join their fleets, learn from us as we may learn from them," The Captain spoke boldly, "You have introduced an entire species to an endless Universe."

Ker'Tak paused for a moment, then looked back at their Captain.

"Thank you, Captain, but I do believe I should take care of my patient first, before we send our official reguards," Ker'Tak nodded.

The Captain allowed it, so Ker'Tak took a uniquely close care of Skye that evening, talking to her about the many ways things were about to change.

"Does this mean I won't have to forget you?" Skye asked as 0800 hours rolled around. Ker'Tak nodded, which caused Skye to smile.

"You will not have to forget me, or anything else about last night's events, or today's, or tomorrow's. In fact, if anything, we may be working together from here forward, Human Skye," Ker'Tak tried to wrap their mind around it, working with a human female, "Even if you are deemed a weak, useless human female, I like to entertain the thought of working alongside you."

Skye smiled, trying to not give show as to how harshly that last remark came off.

"That's good, Ker'Tak, I'd like to think that of you as well."

They started talking as the world became captivated by the starship and the arrival of the Si'Nians on Earth.

Everyone wanted to talk to the girl who had saved and alien, and all across the galaxy, everyone wanted to see what the doctor had discovered in the human race that made them decide it was time to reveal what was *really* out there.

And here the two were, sitting in the medbay of the starship, mid-afternoon, talking to each other as the bright rays of daylight filtered through the window.

This was going to be an exciting ride.

[noobsomeexagerjunk]

thoughts on starry after multiple listens

(dated July 8, 2020 because i might make another one)

Edit: I SHOULD FACT CHECK MORE

the Starry soundtrack is as impressionist as the painters it invokes by energy alone, which is impressive given the style of music used (of which i’m fine with, but not partial to)

the Prologue does this right off the bat

the people of Monmartre are very critical of the rest of France and I adore it

i can feel theo’s overwhelment in Impress Me

Impress Me does a wonderful job at introducing the setting of the show

that song is a ball of pulsating yearning—no wait that’s the whole show

Theo got so stressed he walked blindly into Madame Segatori’s cafe

learning that the Le Tambourin was named as such due to its tambourine aesthetic via Vincent’s portrait of Segatori is just incredible to me; the table is shaped like a tambourine

“If Paris is the world, Monmartre is Bethlehem; and art is our Amen” sounds so powerful

A New Horizon is so warm

i expect Theo and Vincent to be very cuddly with each other everytime they interact

“dream with me, dear brother” is the energy of this song

french wheat fields will forever haunt me because of this damn musical

*insert Do You Like the Color of the Sky? post here*

like, so much emphasis to the sky

Vincent’s dreaming leaking into Theo’s trading practice surely must be a sight to see

chain imagery hits hard after hearing Wheat Fields/Finale Ultimo

in this yellow house, we dream of freedom

“should I really take this giant risk?” “brother, I took a giant risk coming here—fuck yeah do it!”

United in Distaste reeks of Vincent’s intimidation—it has new kid in school energy and I am living for it

Vincent coming to Monmartre (and when he arrives in Arles) like “Hey, I’m new in town, and it gets worse,”

Bernard has apparently spent enough time with Theo to be able to identify Vincent by frowning alone

Rude of Gauguin to yoink Vincent’s painting like that; Segatori immediately hangs it tho—

Gauguin sounds like he’s going to corrupt anyone who approaches him—dude announces his horny nature during his introduction

Gauguin IS a savage and a whore and the best thing about that is that he knows it; even better knowing the vision of his costume

Segatori’s displeasure throughout the song implies that the artists that frequent her cafe also argue amongst themselves frequently

“keep in mind that we’re academic rejects, Vincent”

with the way Degas, Pissarro, and Morisot tease at Gauguin (noting that Gauguin, Bernard, and Toulouse-Lautrec are together in a later song), it sounds like they’re are hurling insults from a separate tambourine table

Toulouse-Lautrec sounds dramatic; Bernard sounds like he’s not sure where he is artistically—both are a mood

Of the post-impressionist table, the only one retaliating with genuine insults is Toulouse-Lautrec; Bernard and Gauguin only end up defending themselves while Toulouse was ready to tear down Degas and Morisot

Pissarro IS old (at this period in time in the musical) damn

Morisot is unyielding with her insults, “speaking of size—“ holy shit oh no

i reiterate—why is Toulouse-Lautrec the only one actually speaking in a French accent; almost everyone there is French

since I’m aggressively referring to him, I think Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec merits a musical of his own, and that’s based on what first learned about him when I first listened to Starry

by extension, also Berthe Morisot

Monmartre’s artists be like “We’re very critical of ourselves and each other, and while that’s worth being intimidated by, don’t be intimidated by us! What do you have to bring to the table, foreign painter?”

Something poetic about how what Vincent wants being what all the artists want hereby making him a member of their squad is so warm to me—galleries are gravity INDEED

“We will embrace the madness we design, or lose our mind,” IS THIS FORSHADOWING BECAUSE IT FUCKING SOUNDS LIKE IT

“i am loving this! YES, GET ANGRY!” if only i can identify who said this

Something After All is directed towards Vincent, right? It better be, I lack context

Theo’s yearning is so relatable and I fear not being able to fulfill it

bless Kelly and Matt for giving Jo so much depth in Enlightenment

apparently she deadass learned English for the purpose of translating the letters she had compiled??? yo i love that

poetic how Jo invokes making a legacy since she’s the one who actually preserves her brother-in-law’s legacy (and by extension, herself and her husband’s legacies)

at first listen, i immediately drew a comparison to Hamilton’s Eliza; Jo is better both musically and literally, given that Vincent van Gogh is far more relevant than Alexander Hamilton will ever be, even with LMM’s musical

not trying to start beef, just an observation

Jo’s yearning is also such a mood

fire, light, and road imagery being invoked huh

it is by this point i’ve to the realization that the reasons one goes to Monmartre that was cited in Impress Me tie in very well to the individual characters’ desires in this show

Where Are We Going? goes so hard ugh yes

“I need a stronger strategy to seize my immortality!” Gauguin’s incredible ambition is the root of his dissatisfaction; doesn’t help that he’s impulsive both in the musical and IRL

Toulouse prioritizes integrity and Bernard prioritizes progression—I wonder what this means for their characters in the show

Toulouse and Bernard calling Gauguin out on his known shitty behaviors feels like they’ll be problems Vincent will have to deal with in Act 2, when they live together

this is where Gauguin leaves for Martinique, right???

which one is the act 1 closer, really??? The Sower or The Road??? help me please

everyone in town is really concerned for Vincent

it wams me how much Segatori believes in him

Bernard’s right, Vincent van Gogh’s artstyle IS a melting pot

learning that Toulouse-Lautrec capitalized on his art during the peak of his career really adds weight to his concerns on Vincent’s inability to sell

i like to imagine the everyone’s in the gallery during The Sower

Theo and Jo’s relationship progressing as Vincent’s works don’t sell hits upon realization

Theo falling hard when he learns that he and Jo yearn for the same thing tho

recontextualizing the imagery that Vincent found beauty in into imagery that demonstrates his person is just mighty good of Kelly and Matt

then again, so much of his person is in the artwork to begin with

“and everyone knows your reap what you sow.” w o a h!!!

The Road starts like a dramatization of one of Vincent’s breakdowns and how he copes with them, or perhaps this starts after one??? The opening verses suggest a lot

also ties his road to his dream of freedom with what i believe is his travel to Arles

“North, South, East, West—navigate from inside you,” = “With conscience as my compass,”

“i am guided towards the night” this Vincent knows the answer but is so clearly far from its reach and is desperately trying to figure out how to

soul of fire, crystal heart and blizzard-like brain; the man is passionate and everyone knows it

“Fascinating, but maybe just a little too soon,” sounds like that at this point, Toulouse-Lautrec and Bernard genuinely recognize and admire Vincent’s talents, but also understand that the world is still against him and that they have the experience to prove it

the “sunlight and storms” imagery always concern Theo, Jo, and Vincent’s relationship with each other

Gauguin popping up in this song with the compass imagery implies the show’s going to make him a pretty interesting foil to Vincent; this sounds like him traveling back to Paris, or at least him attempting to vibe in Martinique

this hurts when you remember what happens to Vincent

“curse of the gifted” is a phrase i am too afraid to understand

DYLAN SAUNDERS CAN SLAY ME WITH HIS VOICE

The Yellow House sounds yellow somehow

who clears their throat before writing a letter???

Gauguin’s frustration’s against Vincent’s admiration of him is amusing

sounds like Gauguin hasn’t found his “freedom” yet

Theo is one generous fellow

this arrangement lasts for only 2 months; given the apparent span of this musical, The Yellow House is a very “calm before the storm” song

wait a minute—

apparently, Vincent REALLY admired Gauguin and was so excited for his arrival at the yellow house

i fear the dramatization of their disagreements

“Don’t tell Theo I said that,” it amuses me how the van Gogh brothers’ relationship is so well-known to these painters

based on the gifs lurking, the ear incident WILL be dramatized and I am terrified for my heart on how it will be depicted

Sunlight and Storms quotes the original letter from Jo to Vincent surprisingly well (i attempted to read some—there’s so many! this was one of the first ones i came across)

this song hurts when it hits how little time Jo and Theo had together as a married couple

I am convinced a lot happened between Sunlight and Storms and On the Threshold of Eternity

this definitely was after a breakdown

i skip this song just so i don’t think about the obvious implications, i must confess

the meaning of “sunlight and storms” hits the hardest here

“we will not let your illness keep you from finding your freedom”

The Red Vinyard is so full of a brother’s love

this hits me, and i speak as an only child

“You’ve carried me more than you’ll ever know,” AH—

when Theo finally sees the new horizon, Vincent is seeing it too

and what Vincent saw he put on a fucking canvas

“i can see it—a new horizon” = “the sight of the starry night”

they say that at the time, not much was thought of the iconic painting

i could only wonder what might’ve happened between The Starry Night and Wheat Fields

all the piano motifs coming together in Wheat Fields/Finale Ultimo, just like that

“I’m ready for harvest time” is melodically similar to “The road is bright”, particularly when it’s just Vincent singing the line alone

despite the obvious, I don’t think I’ll grasp the meaning of the final song; i also skip this one so i don’t think about it

[her-world-on-fire]

Malfoy Manor V {Draco Malfoy x Reader}

REQUEST HERE MASTERLIST

DRACO MALFOY SERIES

Part 1 The Deal Part 2 Charming Part 3 The Train Part 4 Dinner Part 5 Malfoy Manor Part 6 The Return

Word Count: 2,776

The next few days progressed in the same fashion. Learning new spells and more about each other. Today I wanted to try something different.  Once Draco got up I lead him to the kitchen. It's no surprise that Draco is not a morning person. He was still groggy and unaware of what was happening. "What are we doing?" I couldn't help but laugh at his tone, and his scowling face. "Well, I figured we change thing up a bit and make breakfast." He shook his head and laughed, never did he think he was going to make himself breakfast. He couldn't think of a time where the thought even crossed his mind. He was so used to having things done for him, now it was time to do something for himself. "Let's do it then."

We washed our hands and I looked in his fridge. Once again I wasn't surprised to find it fully stocked. "What about french toast?" I asked, he agreed so I handed him ingredients. Eggs, milk, vanilla, cinnamon, etc. "So what exactly am I supposed to do?" He looked over the ingredients confused. "It's quite simple, take 2 eggs and put them in the bowl. Add in milk, cinnamon, and vanilla." It sounded simple enough, he grabbed the eggs and gently knocked then against the table. He repeated this a few times. "You've got to use a little more force." I laughed he looked at me unsure. But listened anyways, finding that I was right. He managed to open the rest without getting eggshell in the bowl, it was a sight to see. While he did this I found some fruits and chopped them up to serve on the side. "Now what?" He seemed to actually enjoy himself. I grabbed the bread and handed it to him. "Now put the bread in. And then we put it on the pan." I wasn't sure that I trusted him to gauge the toast. It was already hard to tell if you knew what you were doing. "I'll do the next part." 

"What are exactly are you implying?" 

"I don't want under cooked toast, Malfoy." He stood up and came after me, "You've gone too far." I moved through the kitchen hoping to tire him out, but he was relentless.  He caught up to me and grabbed me. I let out a yelp, making him laugh. "Now what was that?" I looked up at him, we were both a little flustered. I never thought I would be standing in Draco Malfoy's kitchen in his arms. "What's all this?" I stiffened, Draco's mother was here. Draco held on to me a little tighter, refusing to back down just because his mother was here. She looked over the kitchen, it was a bit of a mess. I had every intention of leaving it just as I had found it. "What does it look like?" Draco asked, his tone was drastically different than when he had been speaking to me only moments ago. She looked between us, it was tense and no one spoke. She left without another word. 

I looked at Draco, "Let's finish what we started." We did just that. I finished up the toast, I even let him flip a few of them. Just so that he would feel like he contributed. We served ourselves and sat down next to each other. "I will admit, I did enjoy myself." He admitted looking at me. "See! I knew you would." I looked at the mess and sighed. He followed my gauze, there was a mess of dishes and ingredients. "I suppose you don't know how to do dishes." I joked it didn't hurt to try. In reality, I knew I was probably going to have to do them. He scoffed getting up from his chair grabbing both plates and placing them in the sink. He rolled up his sleeves and looked back at me, almost offended. 

"I'll have you know I am quite well versed in dish washing." I looked at him surprised and doubtful. "Forgive me for not being too convinced." It was true, he wasn't a dishwasher, but he wanted to help. I shrugged, "If you insist." Once we had finished I put away supplies where I had found them, and Draco did the dishes. I looked over at him, still in doubt but he seemed to be doing just fine. "How many times are you going to surprise me today Malfoy?" He looked over from the dishes, a smile playing on his face. "It is only 9 am." I finished before Draco did and sat on the counter beside him. He finished and then put his hands on either side of me, "Not bad for my first time." He beamed, I raised my eyebrow. "I thought you were well versed in dishwashing?" I quoted his previous statement. "Oh come on, you did everything it was the least I could do."

It was hardly true but the gesture was appreciated. "Now what?" He inquired I had a few more plans. "How about we get out for a bit?" I figured he and his mother needed some space. They were still really tense from their argument and I knew Draco wanted to getaway. He couldn't leave his room without her checking on him, which made him angry. In reality, they weren't used to being around each other anymore. For most of the year was at school, he only came back for a few weeks at a time. They also had to adjust to the loss of Lucius, losing him made both of them bitter. Although he didn't always agree with his father, he still felt love for him.

 He cocked his head to the side, leaning back a bit. He didn't mind the idea at all. He helped me off the counter. "I suppose we ought to change out of our sleep attire." The thought of changing into less comfortable clothes wasn't appealing. I figured it would be inappropriate to venture out in them. I agreed and we walked back to his room. We both looked in his closet since my luggage was in there as well. He grabbed his clothes and went to his bathroom leaving me in his room to change. In a few moments, we were both ready. "Do you have a coat?" He asked coming out of the bathroom I grabbed it off the bed, "Yes." He nodded and opened the door to his room gesturing for me to go out first. I gave him a thank you and we made our way out of the manor. We walked along aside the gravel pathway. It wasn't a long walk until we got to surrounding shops. 

As we walked Draco's influence was notable. People greeted him, doors opened for him. We walked into a small bookshop. Draco was immediately recognized, "Mr. Malfoy, I wasn't expecting your presence." The owner, an older gentleman remarked. "I can on an impulse." He looked over at me, the impulse being me. I had noticed the books on his shelf and was curious to see how he interacted with them. We browsed through the shelves. Overall the shop was very cozy, there were love seats next to shelves in case you wanted to read. Draco trailed behind me for a bit, then something caught his interest. I peaked over, he was in the ancient literature. I watched as he grabbed a book and trailed his fingers over the spine gently. 

I grabbed a book of my own and for half an hour we read on the love seat. We sat facing across for each other. The shop was fairly quiet getting a few costumers every so often. An older couple walked in, and they gave us a look. "What a lovely couple." I looked up from my book, Draco met my gaze and smiled. He looked at the couple, "Thank you." I  couldn't help but smile at them. They disappeared soon after, losing themselves in between the slim shelves. Neither of us had the heart to deny their compliment. I excused myself leaving Draco alone for a moment. Figuring it was my turn to have some surprises.

Once I came back he seemed ready to move. We thanked the shop owner and parted ways with the cozy shop. We went into a few more shops and were greeted in relatively the same manner. Draco looked up at the sky, it was getting dark once again. He wrapped his arm around me, leaning his head against, "Are you ready to head back?" I confirmed and we were on our way back to the manor. 

---

Once back in his room an owl was sitting on his bed. I looked at him and his expression was once again unreadable. It cooed, right in its beak was an envelope. I decided it was none of my business and went into his bathroom to give him some privacy. It could be his father, Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Pucey, or even Pansy. Deciding there was nothing better to do I just got in the shower remembering his instructions. 

After a decent amount of time passed I figured coming out would be okay. I walked out and to his closet once more grabbing sleeping attire. He was putting away his supplies. On his bed, he had parchment, ink, a quill, and some wax to seal his letter. He also had left his window open, presumably to allow the owl to hunt. It was customary to make sure the owl was in good condition before sending your letter. 

Once I was dressed I reached inside my bag. I sat on his bed and placed his presence behind me. He looked at me suspiciously, although he seemed different. He wasn't in as good of a mood as he had been when we arrived. It was very easy to pick up the change in his behavior. "What do you have there?" He tried peaking behind me. He had to be the most impatient person I've met. I moved to make sure he couldn't see or reach for it. "I'm getting to that in a moment." He stopped being restless and sat up, anticipating I was going to speak further. He shifted his attention to me. "It's been a week and I just wanted to say thank you. For a lot of things, but mostly for your company. It's been a pleasure Draco." He looked concerned, "Why does this sound like a goodbye?" 

"It's not. I just wanted to get you something so that you know I appreciate everything." While we were out I had gotten little trinkets from the shops we visited. From the bookshop, I had gotten him the book he began to read when the old couple complimented us. I saw a ring at a jeweler that made me think of him. Whenever he touched me, I felt the cold metal of his rings. We went into a clothing shop and I saw a scarf, remembering how he's always making sure I'm warm. I grabbed the bag and handed it to him. He looked surprised as he looked inside it. As he pulled out the contents I explained why I got each one. By the end, he looked up at me, a sad look on his face. "I didn't-"

"Don't you dare say you can't accept because you haven't done anything for me." His mouth closed, and he sighed. That was exactly what he was going to say. He was stopped dead in his tracks. "I appreciate this. I just wish I would've done something as clever." I rolled my eyes, "You've done enough for me through gestures, let me do something for you." He seemed to be comforted by the answer. He didn't press further. Instead, he just pulled me in for a hug. "This was very thoughtful of you." He laughed, "So this is where you kept sneaking off to." I had tried to pace my disappearances.  It was hard, he wasn't easily led astray. He was very quick to realize I wasn't in his presence. A few times I was worried he would catch on. 

He needed the distraction. All his problems were put on pause. He didn't think about his mission, his father, or even his quidditch match. All stress was relieved for most of the duration of their time together. They stayed up late and talked about everything. After a few hours later, they fell asleep, neither of them aware of how tired they really were. 

The second week seemed to go by even faster than the first. They spent their time with afternoon walks, picnics, & more activities not centered around the manor. In this time Narcissa really came around. She realized her son was actually happy. It didn't seem like it because most of their time was spent in the argument. But she heard it, their late-night laughter, their breakfast talks, and she had even been told by people who saw them outside the manor. Everyone spoke of a different Draco, who actually enjoyed himself. Narcissa, in turn, decided to apologize for Draco, but for genuine forgiveness most importantly. She gave them both an apology things changed for the better. Slowly she joined them for breakfast and just spent more time with them. At first, Draco wasn't pleased, he was surprised and skeptical of his mother's turn around. he thought she was trying to see how focused he was. But he got used to the idea and everyone was more comfortable. 

Two nights before we were set to go back to Hogwarts, Draco received a series of letters. virtually no one could talk to him all day. The letters were sent back and forth in very quick succession. I was sitting in the kitchen when Narssica came to me. "Draco's still writing?" She asked if had been hours she expected him to be done by now. "All day," I confirmed, not seeing him leave for anything. He was confined to reply to the letter. Narcissa put her hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry dear, I'll see if I can help at all." 

She walked into his room and closed the door. I could hear muffled voices, I had no idea what they were saying but I knew it couldn't be good. She didn't leave for almost an hour. Once she came back she was pale and even looked sickly. I figured there was nothing I could do. I went back to my textbook, I managed to get it off of Draco's shelf before leaving. I managed to get through everything I was supposed to for my lesson, although I was sure it was going to have to wait. It wasn't happening today, and tomorrow we had to pack. Draco didn't speak for the rest of the day.

We packed in silence for most of the morning, Draco obviously not wanting to talk about whatever happened. Even Narcissa was still unsettled. I grabbed the last of my things and shut my luggage. I sat on the bed as I waited for Draco. I don't know if it's best to let him have his silence, or if I should try and speak to him. Even the sky seemed to reflect the mood, outside rain clouds formed and there was the anticipation of the rain. I looked out the window, just trying to take everything in. Within just a few hours the mood had entirely changed even dragging it into the next day. He didn't take much longer. Once he finished he looked at me and sighed. "I'm really sorry." I shook my head and sat up. The first words out his mouth in almost 24 hours, and he was apologizing.  "You have nothing to be sorry for." He sat next to me and just looked at me. "What is it?" 

He looked down. he was scared for what was to come. He didn't know what was going to happen next. He didn't know how fast it was going to spread and how much time he had left. He figured he needed to spend the remainder of it as best as he could. There was a change they wouldn't speak anymore if word got around. He needed to delay the word getting around, and he needed to make an excuse. It would be too suspicious if he didn't. Normally lying didn't phase him too much. But now he really didn't want to lie. He wanted to be honest more than anything, but the truth wasn't safe. So, for now, he had to figure out something to say.  

"My father is ill." 

REQUEST HERE  MASTERLIST 

DRACO MALFOY SERIES 

Part 1 The Deal Part 2 Charming Part 3 The Train Part 4 Dinner Part 5 Malfoy Manor Part 6 The Return

[puurr]

shehi  everyone  welcome  BACK  to  my  blog,  hi  how  are  ya  ??  *  waves  wand  *  that  was  cringe,  aNYWAYS  i’m  ru,  t,  goat,  whatever  you  wanna  call  me  and  im  bringing  you  THAT  BITCH ™  in  human  form,  like  if  that  bitch  was  a  person,  this  is  what  it  would  be.  gosh,  i  talk  too  much  lmao,  but  if  you  wanna  plot  feel  free  to  mssg  me  on  discord  𝒍𝒊𝒍 𝒖𝒛𝒊 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏.#1643  or  here,  whatever  floats  ur  boat  boo  !!  but  ya’ll  don’t  care  ab  me    😈  so  without  further  ado.  &  did  i  proof  read?  xxx

chicago’s very own 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃  𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 has been spotted on madison avenue driving a  𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐒-𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐙 𝐆-𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 , welcome ! your resemblance to 𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊  is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 birthday bash  . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄  , but being 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒  might help you . i think being a 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂 explains that .  3 things that would paint  a  better picture of you would be 𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒚𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒏 , 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒅 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 , and   𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒈𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒔 . ( i sabotaged a fellow gymnast, ruining her career forever because i saw her as my only threat. )  & ( cisfemale + she/her ) +  ( ru, 18,he/him,est )

STATS  ;

NAME   :  diamond  tiaira  patterson

NICKNAMES   :   dede,  die,  dee.

AGE   :   twenty   -   three   .

BIRTHDAY   :   october  21st   .

ZODIAC   :   libra   .

GENDER   :   female   .

PRONOUNS   :   she  /  her   .

NATIONALITY   :   american   .

ETHNICITY   :   african-american  .

LABEL(S)   :   the   prosperous   ,   the   athlete   ,   the   diva   .

OCCUPATION   :   gymnast   ,  (  aspiring  )  singer   ,   socialite   ,  dancer  ,  spokemodel.

POS  :  (  ridiculously  )  athletic,  driven,  ambitious,  articulate,  stoic,  intelligent,  (  dangerously  )  witty.

NEG  :  snarky,  sarcastic,  inconclusive,  stubborn,  envious,  deceitful,  greedy,  mischievous,  artificial.

AESTHETIC

atm  machines  dispensing  hundreds  of  dollars,  mink  eyelashes  so  long,  one  blink  might  send  you  flying  away,  10′s  across  the  board,  a  wall  adorned  with  shimmering  trophies,  and  1st  place  ribbons,  hair  extensions  past  your  ass,  extravagant  nails  that  look  like  they’d  be  hard  to  manage,  the  “boujee”  friend,  snapchats  of  you  and  the  squad  getting  lit  in  the  backseat  of  your  bodyguard  driven  cadillac,  still  being  able  to  do  tumbling  passes  and  drop  into  the  splits  in  any  costume,  and  pushing  away  lingering  feelings  of  guilt.

BACKGROUND  ;

some  people  are  born  lucky,  and  others  are  lucky  to  be  born,  and  as  her  name  might  suggest  diamond  tiaira  patterson  was  one  of  thee  few  born  lucky  in  chicago.  her  father  is  a  big  time  music  producer  who  peaked  in  the  90s  all  the  way  through  the  mid  2000s  who  worked  with  all  your  early  childhood  favorites  and  her  mother  is  a  former  elite  gymnast  who  wowed  crowds  in  the  summer  olympics  in  ‘91.

the  patterson  name  oozed  greatness  in  the  city  and  saw  nothing  but  success,  diamond  was  destined  for  greatness  when  her  mom  forced  put  her  into  gymnastics  at  age  four,  and  the  young  woman  thrived  and  excelled  every  since,  even  dedicating  her  talents  to  track  and  field,  cheerleading,  and  volleyball  in  high  school  where she was a 4x  state  champion  between  cheerleading  and  volleyball.  but,  gymnastics  always  came  first  no  matter  what.

the  glory  at  such  a  young  age  was  enthralling,  diamond  loved  the  attention,  she  loved  performing,  it  became  a  2nd  nature,  but  the  pressure  from  her  mom  to  push  harder  and  harder,  and  the  fear  of  letting  her  down  was  something  that  drove  her  competitive  nature  through  the   roof.  but  it  gave  her  an  edge,  her  desire  to  be  great  was  sickening.

but,  she  had  all  the  talent,  and  the  accomplishments  to  back  whatever  she  had  to  say.

the  competitiveness  drove  her  to  sabotage  a  fellow  competitor  who  scored  a  point  higher  than  her,  and  had  the  possibility  of  beating  her,  so  diamond  put  a  teeny  tiny  thumbtack  on  the  balance  beam,  and  her  opponent  landed  foot  first  on  it  and  twisted  that  ankle  all  the  way  up  and  landed  on  her  neck,  her  career?  DONE  FOR.  it  wasn’t  her  intention  of  course  ,  she  was  young  and  impulsive,  but  what’s  done  was  done.

diamond  went  on  to  gain  national  recognition  for  her  accomplishments  even  having  an  OUTSTANDING  showing  in  the  olympics  as  part  of  team  usa  at  the  age  of  19  winning  four  gold  medals,  and  since  then  she’s  been  on  magazine  covers,  guest  starred  on  tv  shows,  modeled  a  bit,  and  she’s  currently  dabbling  into  music  with  the  help  of  her  father.  a  big  reason  why  they  moved  to  nyc  he’s  her  dadager,  and  they  want  to  make  her  the  next  big  thing,  but  with  all  the  personalities  in  nyc,  they’re  in  for  a  surprise.

PERSONALITY

INSP  :  josephine  mccoy  (  riverdale  )  ,  hilary  banks  (  fresh  prince  of  belair  )  ,  whitley  gilbert  (  another  world  )  colandrea  conners  (  dear  white  people  )  jelena  howard  (  hit  the  floor  )  ,  naomi  campbell  ,  mariah  carey  .

A  DIVA.  to  an  extent,  she’s  definitely  sassy  and  sensible,  and  won’t  hesitate  to  let  you  know  it.  she’s  been  spoiled  and  successful  all  her  life,  she’s  a  winner,  and  if  things  don’t  come  easy  to  her  she  just  wants  to  quit  it  all  together.  she’s  used  to  it  being  her  way  or  the  high  way  ,  she’s  definitely  privileged  and  entitled  ,  but  tries  to  be  more  on  the  heartwarming  side  if  the  situation  entails.  humble  with  like  a  half  of  kanye.

we  said  it  before,  but  she  is  THE  boujee  friend.  friend.  as  she  exudes  that  prestige,  that  pedigree,  she  doesn’t  drink  tap  water,  only  drinks  almond  milk,  she  likes  foods  than  cannot  be  pronounced,  she  tries  to  act  cultured,  but  whenever  she  opens  her  mouth  that  flies  right  out  the  window.  she’s  fiercely  loyal  to  those  who  deserve  it  of  course

JUDGMENTAL!!!!  she  is  not  the  friend  that  you  can  bring  to  the  vip  section  of  a  club  and  pop  some  pills  or  do  a  line  in  front  of,  she’ll  really  smack  the shit  out  of  you  ,  or  look  at  you  like  you’ve  gone  batshit  crazy  .

CONNECTIONS

any  former  gymnast  muses  in  da  house  or  sum  ??  maybe  d  literally  mopped  the  floor  w/  them  @  a  meet  when  they  were  younger  or  sumn,  but  they  still  made  friends?  we  have  NO  idea  how.

seasoned  musicians,  who  she  networks  and  mingles  with  to  get  her  foot  in  the  door??  maybe  they  worked  with  her  dad  and  give  her   some  advice,  maybe  they’re  gonna  drop  a  hot  new  single?  something  fun,  something  for  the  girls  *  in  my  saweetie  voice *

RICH  FRIENDS,  IDK,  nyc  is  vasty  different  from  chitown,  and  maybe  her  guide  to  nyc??  whats  the  new  haps  on  fashion,  where  tf  does  everybody  hang  out?  stuff  like  that  yk?

we  need  ENEMIES  too  because  miss  thing  has  ATTITUDE  for  days,  and  i  just  know  she  probably  ruffled  a  few  feathers  walking  into  the  big  apple  like  she  owns  it.

pls  hmu.

[wings-of-a-storm]

SKAMITA DIVE NO.2

Okay guys, I’m just going to dive right into this one. I’ve finally been able to indulge the feels and write up a little not actually little essay on one of the clips that still takes the breath from me whenever I watch it. Yes, if you couldn’t already tell from the lame references, that clip is: Halloween (4.4) - aka Martino’s and Niccolò’s first kiss.

I have been so desperate to talk about this clip -- or more specifically the pool scene -- because it is one of those moments where there are a thousand things happening in such a short space. I can still remember how stunned I was the first time I saw it. Their chemistry was jaw-dropping. And as an adherent to the Nicotino movement, I obviously have to take this time to pay my respects to this great scene.

I’ve left the Halloween drinks and famous St Peter's Basilica scene to the myriad other awesome discourses out there because I don’t have much to add. In this essay though, I will look at:

What the hell Martino was supposed to be dressed as

The peak of Martino’s and Niccolò’s UST

The Kiss That Changed Everything (and made Renato realise he needed to go to the gym more)

MARTINO, WHAT EXACTLY ARE YOU?

I feel like before I get into the pool scene, a bit of dirty laundry needs to be taken care of first. Or at least laundry. (Okay, that was supposed to be a reference to whatever the hell Martino is dressed as for Halloween. I tried.)

What is Martino wearing for Halloween? I feel like he is a walking ink-blot -- you can interpret whatever you will from his garment. Some see fashion nightmares, some see sheets, some see invisibility, some see boring gay. I see some sort of fantastical sci-fi guardian monk, but that’s giving Martino too much credit, I’m sure.

In all seriousness though, I don’t know what Martino is supposed to be dressed as (in his text he said he’d find something at his house? That house just got sadder). Once the mask is off though, it starts to give off priestly robe vibes for me with all the white flowing folds and layers. One of the top layers hangs around most of his torso too, which evokes a sense of some restriction, unlike the free-flowing cape Niccolò has on. Symbolism at its finest, perhaps. But, brilliantly, the way they are filmed from the back, Martino’s and Niccolò’s costumes resemble a set, like they are partners in crime no matter what.

So… If Martino gives off that chaste, restricted, pure, priest vibe with his costume, then Niccolò’s evokes the opposite with his vampire get-up. Vampires of course are associated with seduction and decadence -- even if this one rides a bicycle. The vibe is carried off brilliantly by Nico, who glides ahead of Marti a lot, lures him into unsavory places, and asks him to disrobe at the end of it all. In other words, I imagine Niccolò’s choice of costume is supposed to prime us to all the temptations and seduction that we hope will be taking place soon.

We need to give Nico credit where credit is due though: can you believe he rode a bike all through the city -- transporting double the weight -- with fake fangs hanging out of his mouth? The chances of dislodgement were so high, but that didn’t stop him.

And the best part? Although he had taken the fangs out at some point prior to arriving at the pool compound, he… (guys I can’t handle this) puts them back in when he tries to scare Marti. Like a proud little kid completing his look for the full impact, as if Marti will be scared by muffled enunciation and slobbering. I love this soft vampire so much!

THE UST WAVE STARTS TO BUILD

Niccolò’s about to get softer, guys -- I know it was just a random impulse to take Marti to the pool, but it is so cute how Nico wants to share this special place with him. It clearly has a lot of nice memories for him and he wants Marti to be a part of that and for Marti to know all the little things about him (the parts that he chooses to share). It’s such a sweetly understated connection he’s building with Marti.

And then: RennAAATooOO. (I have nothing to say, I just wanted to pay homage to the masterpiece.)

It takes Martino a bit of time to start loosening up, but that nervousness makes his transition to pure delight all the more sweeter when he believes they really are alone together. What is also great about Marti’s worried-about-being-caught mood is that it set things up for Marti to already be in a heightened mood. His pulse would be rising, his brain would be taking everything in with a sharper focus, and all this biochemical stuff would be tripling as he looks at Nico. How ALIVE would he be feeling right now to be doing this with Nico? And the longer they are standing there undisturbed, the more possibilities of what they could do together would be running through his mind. That would be such a heady feeling, like an extension of the wild freedom he felt on that bike.

So they are finally alone. And there is that gorgeous moment when both are just standing there smiling at each other, taking each other in. Like they can’t believe they’ve finally found this moment together. Particularly Nico -- he looks so enraptured to have Marti standing before him.

And then Nico’s eyes drop, and he’s taking Marti’s body in. And he tells Marti to take his clothes off -- but somehow in the cutest voice! Like how does Nico manage to say “Undress!” so affectionately?! His voice is poetry! He sounds so in love, like they are actually on their honeymoon and not doing illegal shit in the middle of the night in costumes.

And I love that Marti was so distracted by his concern of getting caught, that he didn’t seem to properly register or appreciate that the guy he likes is starting to take his clothes off. He really is a priest. (I’m obviously guessing with that but the symbolism is quite strong when he is standing in front of his vampiric seducer.)

Anyway, back to the UST…

Nico tells Marti to take his clothes off, and there is this slight pause as if Nico seems to realise he actually needs a reason for making such a suggestion. So he offers up the vaguest thing: “So you’ll have a chance” but doesn’t elaborate any further. Probably because he is making shit up on the fly to keep up with all the subconscious urges he is feeling -- the need to get undressed and be physically close to the boy he likes. This urge-dictating-whimsical-idea cycle is happening so fast he probably doesn’t even realise that his subconscious is driving him now. It’s all rather like his revered giraffe story: the heart knowing things before the head realises and the head having to catch up.

Marti goes along with this vague suggestion without question, presumably because A) he is so used to just following Nico wherever, and B) following Nico’s instruction just feels right because there is an undercurrent and his subconscious is picking up on it. I mean, he’s already taken his shoes off before he even attempts to seek clarification on what he’s undressing for.

This whole moment is fascinating UST in action. It’s that remarkable undercurrent that you can feel as a viewer despite never being overtly acknowledged by the characters. And it just continues to build, with Nico starting to show off and taunt Marti about his skill: “So you have a chance of beating me.” It’s like Nico displaying his feathers to a mate, exuding dominance. And could those words feel any more layered? It feels more like Nico is saying: Just try to resist me.

Above all though, the challenge itself is just so UST-filled. A race. Fast moving bodies. Exertion. Physical proximity. There is just SO MUCH energy there and a physical challenge is the closest substitute for what they really want to do.

So wow, our wave of UST is building and it is almost about to explode as one of my favourite things happens: Niccolò finds an excuse to run his fingers through Martino’s hair.

Did that…just happen?

I mean, Nico already has the promise of physical activity with Marti (their swimming race), which you’d think would be enough for his hormones. But no, Nico is so far gone in the urge-to-whimiscal-idea cycle and so desperate to touch Marti, that he makes up the dumbest excuse to touch Marti’s hair. Seriously. The. Dumbest. Excuse.

- “Can I even beat you if you were a water polo champion?” - “Just admit you don’t want to mess up your hair.”

Um, firstly: why does the taunt require you to actually touch his hair, Nico? And secondly: Marti has already committed to your challenge! His shoes are off. His priestly robes have been pulled over his head and discarded (more symbolism). He is ready to get in the pool. Your taunt is based on absolutely nothing… Your urges have gotten way too ahead of you, sweet child.

Couldn’t the UST in that single moment blow a fuse box, though? It is so visceral, you could choke on it. How badly had Nico been wanting to run his fingers through Marti’s hair? And not just that -- his hand is in proximity of Marti’s face, which he could touch and bring towards him if he lowered his hand. But somehow Nico has enough restraint left to remove his hand from Marti’s hair and pretend it is just a simple taunt.

And this leads to my second favourite thing happening: Marti’s UST exploding right back. Their whole banter in this moment felt disguised as something else:

“You think I give a damn about my hair?” “Absolutely yes.” “Oh really?” “Yeh.” ”Oh really?” ”Yeh.”

Pretty sure they were actually saying:

“You just touched my hair and I want you to do so much more.” “I do.” “Oh really?” “Yeh.” “Oh really?” “Yeh.”

Because Marti loses it. He literally grabs Nico’s body and manhandles him in a burst of testosterone onto a mattress -- I mean pool. (And it is so clever that they kept the camera on that large splash because it felt like a visual metaphor for the explosion of hormones that have consumed them both.)

But the shock of cold water temporarily snaps Marti out of it and he’s back to being paranoid about  Renato catching them after they made such a loud noise. His head darts around, making sure they are still alone.

Meanwhile, the ungracious toss into the pool has also temporarily snapped Nico out of the UST and back into his quintessential child-like playfulness: the guy who thinks it is fun to put tabasco and honey in pasta, thinks it is fun to pretend to drown. This guy… I love him so much. His mind is a marvel.

Martino seems to find this whole act incredibly endearing -- because as if he would ever think the water polo champion had actually drowned. But to add the cherry on top: OH MY GOD, that tiny spout of spit/water that flies out of Nico’s mouth when he reemerges looking like a drowned rat, talking himself up, is the funniest fucking thing in the world. His own bodily functions were like: ‘Nah bro, you’re definitely shit at this.’ Let’s just take a moment to appreciate how charmed Marti is by that bag of idiocy in front of him. Look at his face!

Naturally this intense rush of affection leads to some seriously adorable banter from Marti: apparently Marti was a child protégé too but at breath-holding! One cannot help but assume he is taking the piss out of Nico, the alleged child protégé of water polo.

Nico plays along with this melodramatic account of Marti’s and you can see it is his turn to be helplessly charmed by the idiot in front of him. So much so, I think he genuinely said “Okay let’s see it then” with no ulterior motives or UST-brain. That’s the thing with these two: they are so in sync with each other’s rhythms, they just follow each other’s vibe and match it, no matter where it takes them.

And Marti is just so cute when he accepts Nico’s challenge -- that dramatic nod after Nico suggests a countdown, like ‘fuck yes, we’re doing this!’ He is totally in serious business mode, like we’ve seen him be in with all the challengers the Smugglers set. Nico chose the wrong guy to challenge -- Marti’s not going to lose this for anything.

Nico on the other hand is more amused than anything. I never tire of watching him as he watches Marti’s dramatic resolve. There is just so much affection in his eyes and in his smile. This boy in front of him makes him forget all the shitty things in the world and just makes him feel so happy and so present.

Ensconced in these feelings of warm affection, is it any wonder that Nico’s first move under water is to tickle Marti? Oh the softness. But I’m getting ahead of myself!

THE KISS THAT CHANGES EVERYTHING

1, 2, 3.

Nico and Marti drift down below the surface together, leaving the world behind. And even with chlorine in their eyes, they seem to maintain eye-contact. What energy.

And everything is so soft because friggen Candles starts playing. It feels like we’re in a world where everything is so gentle and peaceful and magical.

Nico breaks that eye-contact briefly as he smiles to himself -- clearly the moment he realises it would be hilarious to poke and tickle Marti -- and the smile grows to a grin. I absolutely adore that even underwater Niccolò can’t stop smiling. Marti’s all clenched up tight, trying not to ingest water but Nico can’t help himself from smiling because he is so happy and feeling so much affection for Marti and I can’t take it!

And that’s not the only thing that feels so in character for Nico: out of all the tactics he could think to employ to disrupt Marti’s focus (we, er, won’t mention Even trying to strangle Isak in og…), Nico elects to TICKLE his opponent. Just like the softness of their pinky touch, it feels like quintessential Niccolò with his sweet, child-like urges. And he’s absolutely loving teasing the crap out of Martino -- look how he tries to gauge Marti’s reaction the whole time, as you do when you want to get a rise out of someone and have their full attention (the UST is back, guys). And it does work because you see Marti trying not to laugh.

Here’s a piece of art: two boys infatuated with each other:

Poor Martino though, guys. He has such a tough job right now -- even without the tickling/pawing. Imagine floating in this peaceful bubble with a beautiful boy smiling at you like that. And so close by. All you’d be able to see would be that beautiful smile… Wouldn’t it make your heart race?

But this cheater needs to be stopped. So Marti reaches out to move Nico’s hands away from his person, and their hands touch.

I can only imagine, in their state, how many biochemical reactions that incidental touch set off. It seems to unlock everything, like some important barrier has been broken, because Nico, as if he can’t hold back anymore, springs forward to kiss Marti.

This time the kiss did feel like an ulterior motive, not an orchestrated tactic. It felt like above anything, Nico just really needed to kiss Marti. He felt safe to do so because just like with the pinky touch, it could be disguised as something innocent if it was taken badly.

(Of course it was just a bonus that Nico would probably win the game with such effective interference. I imagine his total grin from ear to ear after he finished the kiss was from that mixture of ‘Oh my god, I finally kissed him!’ and ‘teasing him is so much fun; he’s gonna be so maaaaad’.)

Taking a step back from Nico’s POV and into the pure cinematic aspect of it though, when Marti starts rising to the surface, it feels like I am watching Marti being blessed by Nico, like Nico is helping free him. It’s that gentle slow motion of the shot and the way Nico’s arm floats up beside Marti like he is guiding him upwards to a better world. Like you’ll be a new person, this is your baptism. And it’s the way Nico smiles at Marti the whole time he watches him rise, like he’s proud of him and so happy for him to now be free. I know all that is just an illusion, but I love it none-the-less.

Now for Marti’s POV. When they submerged, Marti’s mind was fully focused on ‘I’m gonna win this challenge, muthafucka’. With that steely focus, I don’t think he was thinking anything sensual in their bubble away from the world, or saw any special opportunity the way Nico had. He was amused by Nico but still taking things seriously enough to try and fend off Nico’s interference. But then he gets kissed -- and he’s shocked -- and just as he breaks through the surface, it hits him that he was actually kissed by Nico. He hadn’t even suspected it -- he hadn’t been ready to appreciate it! And he’s grinning like a son of a bee while processing everything, probably replaying it in his mind a bunch of times.

The most refreshing swim of Martino’s life - aka his pores have been cleared:

Nico then gets to do his ‘Sucked in, you lost!’ taunts (such layered meaning again) to keep things light until he figures out Martino’s reaction to the kiss; Marti gets to fake protest while his mind races to come up with a way they can do it again; and all through their ‘You cheated!’ / ‘No I didn’t’ banter (so very convincing, Nico), they are dancing around how good it was, how much it actually meant, and how that one kiss won the whole game for both of them.

Of course, now that they’ve kissed and broken that barrier, Marti is just in heaven and all competition flies out the window because now his goal is just to get another kiss. So he makes a big deal about needing another round of the competition for fairness and Nico totally sees through it -- how could he not when the air is so charged and they are both grinning so much. Nico’s whole: ‘You think there are rules here? Ahh. Okay~’ is so smooth and seductive and flirtatious and damn!

It is here that my third favourite thing happens: Nico’s game face emerges. It is what will become a very familiar Niccolò mood transition: becoming very serious and focused and determined at the precipice of something sexual while Marti just grins away (every time, I swear). Nico’s ‘game face’ is hard to capture in screenshots because it is such a micro expression, but if you compare his face from before their first submerge to before their second submerge, you can see how it is less playful-amused and more serious-amused. And I can’t tell you how much it jolts me every time I see it.

I just…really love Nico so much here. He is having this really private moment that Marti doesn’t notice in his eagerness to get back under (Marti’s completely chomping at the bit, all ‘let’s-go-go-go!’). But in this private moment, you really get a glimpse of Nico with all the layers of the night’s flirtation stripped away. He is taking this second submerge so seriously because it isn’t a game to him (not that it is to Marti either, but you know). You can see that Nico is so aware of how important this moment is; what a big deal it is for Marti to step out of his comfort zone like this. Nico knows exactly what Marti is trying to do, he knows exactly what will soon be happening, and he is preparing for it, ready to savour it.

Look at this face, guys. It hits like a bullet:

And the two of them drift down under the water again, and we get a wide shot of this dark but comforting bubble -- wide because this time they are both on the same page, thinking and feeling the same things and no one else exists. And there is ZERO preamble -- Marti doesn’t even pretend that he’s only there to hold his breath, he just goes straight for it.

And Nico surrenders to Marti. Yes, it is a reference to his promise not to touch Marti, but it is so much more than that -- Nico knows what Marti wants to do and is going to let him do it on his own terms, with all the pressure taken off. Plus, he probably loves the idea of being able to just anticipate it.

What also affects me is Nico reverting back to a smile as he waits. Yes, he’s over the moon that Marti is going to try and kiss him, but it feels bigger than that. We saw that before they submerged he was actually in a very focused mood, so this smile feels like a shield put back in place to keep things light for Marti even if inside he is actually a raging storm of emotion.

And sweet Marti, who needed the help of Nico and this underwater sanctuary to coax his true self free, kisses him.

I’ve already seen people describe what happens next as ‘Nico melting’, but truly, what other word is there for it? He melts into the kiss and his hand instinctively cups the back of Marti’s neck and slides into his hair. And he is so engrossed in the kiss and all the feelings that come with it, he can’t stop his hand from roaming all over Marti’s head to feel every part of him. (And we know how much he had been wanting to touch Marti’s hair earlier, too.)

The best part is that Marti is cupping Nico’s neck right back because Marti is as overwhelmed by Nico as Nico is by him. He too had been wanting to touch Nico for so long. And then Nico’s free hand comes to rest on Marti’s forearm (the same arm that is cupping Nico’s neck). They are so sweetly connected.

And yes, while forces underwater make it rather a necessity to hold onto another person if you want to stay close to them and not float away, we all know that that necessity is completely secondary to them just wanting to hold each other. ;)

So Nico’s arm then slips beneath Marti’s to gently hold his torso (the sensuality!) to guide them up for air. (And may I just say that Nico moves with such elegance -- those legs pushing up, wow.) This means that both of them come up for air still practically attached to one another, almost chest-to-chest. There’s no way they will let themselves move any further apart. And better than even that: Nico is still cupping Marti’s face when they break the surface, like even the natural forces of buoyancy and gravity couldn’t stop him from holding Martino.

They then clear the water from their eyes and take a moment to just stare at each other in wonder. Marti’s gaping mouth (possibly the biggest smile of his life) just hits you with all the feels. You figure from this that Marti has zero chill while Nico is more composed… Until Nico’s hand bursts out of the water again to grab the back of Marti’s head and pull him closer for more kisses -- then you realise that nope, Nico has zero chill as well. He even jolts up higher for a better angle.

Marti can’t stop grinning the whole time, while Nico is just so focused on kissing him -- their first of many versions of this. And then they touch foreheads -- also the beginning of a very familiar pattern between them. And Marti starts giving back those kisses as good as he is getting them, all while cupping Nico’s neck in return. I felt every bit of that intensity!

And let’s not forget the way Nico is so overcome by their chemistry and Marti’s mutual enthusiasm, he mouths “Well!” at two different points (I think that was what he was saying, right?). It’s like their kisses and energy are even better than he had imagined; that Marti is so much more into it than he’d ever dreamed possible. Perhaps even he had forgotten how good it feels to kiss someone with that much passion after his stale relationship with Maddalena.

It must have felt so good for them to finally be able to show each other how they feel. Marti in particular must have been so amazed that he could even feel this amount of yearning for someone after all his lacklustre experiences with girls. His friends’ incessant talking about sex would finally make sense; he now understands that obsession and yearning because holy shit it feels amazing with the right person!

It is a shame that at such a pivotal moment, Renato interrupts them. I wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t. Perhaps some underwater body grinding…

And there we have it. Their first kiss(es) that was going to change everything for them. The fact that this essay is 4000+ words shows how much this clip affected me and why I think Martino’s and Niccolò’s chemistry is ah-may-zing. I used to feel so bemused whenever I saw people say that Nicotino felt like just friends in this ep. I mean, even the hair touch before they fell into the pool felt so charged. Even just the way they gaze at one another… Damn son. I am a subscriber for life.

Thank you to all involved for giving us this beautiful moment.

ONE LAST THING…

Unfortunately, there is one downside to this glorious scene, and I’d feel too guilty if I were to just skirt over it. I couldn’t write all of this gushing without acknowledging that life is messy and sometimes forces very much meant to be together (such as Nicotino, and dare I say Gio/Eva), can be destructive to others in the process. I do need to acknowledge Maddalena and Emma, who were cheated on and stood up in order for this huge moment to occur. I am sorry for their humiliation and pain. The girls might never understand it, but those two boys needed each other in ways they couldn’t have known or understood. Your pain, girls, might have saved two lives.

Well, that got dark. Let’s end this on a leftover piece of art of two boys falling in love, shall we?

[alj4890]

And Then I Met You

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else? 

@krsnlove @walkerinfolkvangr @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @fullbeaumonty @cocomaxley @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject @littleblossom357 @annekebbphotography @gibbles82 @bella-ca

Masterlist

Part 2

"Professor Hunt! I wish you would let me pick your clothes." Addison eyed her former instructor skeptically.

"Not now Addison." He grumbled while glancing surreptitiously at his clothes. He didn't see what the big deal was. His dark jeans, button up shirt, and blazer was fine. He trusted her completely to dress the actors in his movies. He didn't trust her with his own apparel. He had allowed her one time to dress him and he swore to never allow her free reign again. That unfortunate raspberry beret...

Holly stood by with her tablet. She scrolled with her finger as she spoke. "Since she is a duchess, you must bow and--"

"Bow! I'm not going to bow to her." He snorted as he finished clearing his desk. "If she gets offended then she can fly herself back to her country." He shook his head in exasperation. "Bowing, indeed."

"You should! It would show respect to her station." Holly explained.

"And we have been practicing our curtsies." Addison demonstrated.

Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose. With eyes closed he counted to twenty. He looked at the ladies that he used to enjoy working with. Amanda Bridgerton had not even arrived yet and he was already sick of her. Her title and lifestyle fascinated his assistant and costume designer. He had heard little else this past week.

Holly nudged him. "You should probably get going if you are meeting her plane at Van Nuys." Addison bounced on the balls of her feet. "Are you sure you don't want us to go too?"

"Positive." He grabbed his car keys, wallet, and phone. He looked out the window and frowned. A storm was moving in. He walked out of his study and down the hall.

"I finished redecorating her bedroom. It's a shame that your guesthouse caught fire after that last storm. It was so cute." Addison gathered some of her supplies and placed them in her bag. "Is there anything else you want done before she arrives?"

He shook his head. Holly dogged his steps. "Thomas, don't forget to refer to her as 'your grace' after you greet her."

He stopped and glared at her. She shrugged at him. "It is the proper way to refer to her. Though in Cordonia, I read that some allow 'my lady' to be used."

He walked out to his garage and started his SUV. He groaned when Holly and Addison ran to the passenger window. He lowered it and cocked his eyebrow.

"Duchess Bridgerton or Lady Bridgerton is to be used until she gives you leave to use her first name. Then you must--"

He backed out and left them in the garage. He seriously regretted inviting Amanda Bridgerton to stay at his home. Maybe he should put her in a hotel...one far away from him.

Amanda checked her appearance in the private jet's bathroom mirror. She chewed on her bottom lip as butterflies made her stomach churn. "He's just a man. A man you have admired for years, but still a man." She stared at reflection. "Why couldn't you be glamorous? Sophosticated?" Her phone vibrated with a group text.

Maxwell and Nadia were returning from their honeymoon in a few days. They wanted to get together with everyone for the following weekend. Amanda typed out that she was sorry, but couldn't make it. She then let them know where she was and laughed at their responses. No one could be as overly dramatic as the newlyweds. Her phone immediately rang.

Before she could even finish saying hello, Maxwell's voice yelled into her ear. "You're in Hollywood! When did this happen? Why didn't anyone tell me?" Nadia was in the background echoing his sentiment.

"First off, I got the call after you two went to Paris. Second, I just landed. So third, I have to go and meet Thomas." She smiled at their groans of being the last to know anything.

"Call me later." He demanded. "We have to know everything." Amanda felt a slight pain at that. He and Nadia were truly one. Everything now would be a "we". It was how it was supposed to be and she wouldn't have it any other way. She just wished...she pushed the unfinished thought out of her mind.

She promised to call soon and hung up. She smiled at the flight attendants and thanked them for taking care of her. The pilot and copilot walked out and bowed. After she complimented them all, she stepped out for the first time in California.

She was immediately greeted by rain drops beginning to fall and wind picking up speed. "Hello to you too, sunny California." She let out a laugh. The flight attendant apologized for not having an umbrella. Amanda waved off the concern. "I promise not to melt." She noticed the black SUV sitting a little further down the tarmac.

She immediately recognized Thomas Hunt when he stepped out. He ran a hand through his hair and began to walk toward the plane. She took some of her luggage and carefully descended the steps. The rain began to pick up and Amanda apologized to the copilot who was helping her with the rest of her luggage.

He blushed and told her he didn't mind at all helping her. Thomas overheard it all and wondered at her personality. She seemed nice. Wasn't she supposed to be an entitled brat? He met them halfway and introduced himself. When she smiled at him, he nearly fell back a step. She was even lovelier in person.

She held her hand out to shake his. He cleared his throat and took it. "It is nice to meet you Ms. Bridgerton."

"Please, call me Amanda." She said, thinking that pictures did not do him justice at all. The man oozed sexiness. His intense, dark eyes were studying her curiously. "I will as long as you call me Thomas." He took her bags and watched her, surprised as she took the rest from the copilot, urging him to get inside from the storm. He bowed his head and jogged back to the hangar.

Thunder began to roll, causing them to rush to the car. They threw her bags in the back and ran to get in. She urged him to not be a gentleman right now, and to go directly to his door. He got in and realized she had disappeared. He looked about and saw her pull herself up. She was laughing and checked her rear. She opened her door and asked if he had anything for her to sit on. Between the rain and the puddle she slipped in, she didn't want to mess up his upholstery.

He grinned some as he took his jacket off. He placed it in her seat and watched her get in. "Are you hurt?" He asked as she rubbed her wrist. She shook her head, still smiling. "Just clumsy."

He chuckled and pulled out of the airport. They drove in silence for a few miles. She tried to see the scenery through the pouring rain. He noticed the goosebumps on her skin and turned the heat on. He cleared his throat and nearly jumped when she turned to him.

"I...I hope your flight was pleasant." He really hated small talk, but felt compelled to try.

"It was, thank you." She pushed some wet hair off her face and rubbed her arms. "Oh! Before I forget, I brought some photographs of the places in Cordonia that inspired the scenes in the novel. I also got permission from the King if you decide to film any there." She chewed her lip nervously when he remained silent. "I hope I didn't overstep. I noticed in your movies how the settings you chose seemed to convey a part of the story and I..."

He barely heard her rambling. He was stunned that she had been as proactive as he would have been. To have her purposely do this and help him by bringing actual visuals, he knew then that they would work well together. He shook himself from his thoughts and realized she was apologizing, thinking she had made a mistake.

He reached over and impulsively took her hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you for that. It will help with the screenplay and filming. You surprised me. It's rare to find someone who thinks like I do."

He noticed her relax out of the corner of his eye. They spent the rest of the ride discussing how the next couple of months would hopefully go. He answered her questions about L.A. and his home. She in turn answered his about her duchy and what inspired her story.

He noticed a dimple appeared in her cheek with her smile as she told him about her uncle. "He was the one to inspire the story. Lady Elizabeth is an ancestor of mine and her love story has passed down through my family. I took that history and fleshed out the rest with research and how I thought conversations might have gone. And the clandestine meetings with Lord Arthur are a part of my imagination, though she briefly mentioned a meeting in her journal."

They pulled into his drive and he smiled when she complimented his home. "Think you will be comfortable here?" He asked.

She gave a small laugh. "I think it will be difficult," she teased. "But I will try and find a way to survive such a home."

They were immediately greeted by Holly and Addison. They sank into curtsies. "Your grace, welcome." Holly spoke with a slight British accent. Thomas' eyebrows raised at that change. Amanda told them to please not stand on ceremony and to simply call her by her first name.

They frowned and then gapsed at her wet clothing. "What happened?" Addison exclaimed. He pointed at the storm outside as he hefted her bags. He motioned with his head to follow and mentally groaned when Holly and Addison followed them, tripping over each other to question her.

Amanda smiled at their enthusiasm. She told them about Liam which then led into questions of Drake and Maxwell. Thomas stopped outside the door of the bedroom he had ready for her. It was next to his and he told her it had the best views from the balcony. He opened the door and smiled when she gasped in delight. "This is beautiful!" She dropped her bags and went about the bright, cheery room. She peaked out at the balcony and then went into the spacious bathroom.

Addison nudged Holly and cocked her head to Thomas. He was still smiling as he listened to Amanda exclaim over her room. Their eyes widened. He rarely smiled, much less kept one on his face for an extended amount of time. He noticed them staring at him and immediately wiped the smile off his face. "We will leave you so that you can change. Once you are ready, you can join us downstairs in the kitchen."

He walked out with the two dogging his heels. As soon as they were in the kitchen they pounced on him with their questions. "What do you think of her?" Holly asked him.

"She is a surprise." He pulled out a skillet and frowned as he thought of the lady upstairs. "She is not at all how one would think a noble would act. She seems nice. I actually look forward to getting to know her."

"Shut up!" Addison covered her mouth. "Sorry professor. It's just that you never think anyone's nice when you first meet them. This is big! Huge! Bigger than huge!" She turned to Holly. "What's bigger than huge?"

Holly readjusted her glasses and pointed at the man scowling. "Thomas Hunt liking Amanda Bridgerton." Addison nodded. "Yep, that is definitely bigger than huge."

She then ket out a gasp, causing Holly to jump. "OMG! Do you like her? Both turned to him and he paused.

"Oh no. Stop right there. There will be nothing going on but collaborating and possible friendship. That's it." His voice held an undertone of steel.

"But what if she likes you?" Addison persisted, ignoring the dark look on his face.

"No what ifs, Ms. Sinclaire."

"But--"

"No!"

She slumped in her seat, a small frown puckering her brow. Holly sighed in defeat. She then noticed his sudden stillness and attention directed at the stairs.

She looked over and saw Amanda coming down the stairs. She had taken a quick shower and had thrown her hair up in a messy bun. Her red sundress brushed against her calves with each step. She carried a few notebooks filled with notes and pictures. Her eyes were on Thomas and she was smiling at him.

Holly nudged Addison and realized she was seeing the same thing. "We have to get them together." She whispered to her friend. Addison nodded excitedly.

Amanda placed her items in the living room and joined them in the open kitchen. Her eyes went to the prep work Thomas was doing for dinner. "Anything I can help with?" He audibly swallowed and shook his head. "You should relax." He colored a little with Holly and Addison watching him be flustered.

"Are those the pictures you were telling me about?"

Amanda nodded. "That and my notes." Her eyes crinkled with excitement when he expressed his desire to look through them after dinner. He glanced at the two at his bar. "I take it you are staying also?" They nodded. He rolled his eyes at the sly looks they were giving him.

Dinner was a relaxed affair with more laughter than Thomas had ever experienced. He even chuckled at some of the stories Amanda shared with them. Holly had taken her glasses off to wipe her tears after a particular embarrassing incident at an ambassador's dinner party.

With a smile still playing about his lips, he stood and began to collect the dishes. Addison jumped up and volunteered herself and Holly to take care of that. "You can go look at what she brought for the screenplay."

He cocked his eyebrow at them but followed Amanda into the living room. He felt anticipation build as he looked at the wealth of information she had brought him. They sat in the floor and began to put the pictures in order along with any background notes.

Holly and Addison watched them begin to finish each other's thoughts as they pieced the story together. They decided to leave quietly and plan for another romantic encounter.

After an hour Amanda looked over her shoulder. "Did they leave?" He glanced up and nodded. "They do that when I get focused on a project." He asked where a paticular conversation in the story was to have occurred. Amanda leaned over him and grabbed the picture. He could smell her coconut shampoo and feel the warmth of her skin.

He forced himself to remain still. She was chewing on her bottom lip and the thought of pulling that tortured lip into a kiss hit him. He coughed and got to his feet. He went into the kitchen and poured himself something to drink. He had always adhered to a strict personal policy of no romance with anyone he worked with. He watched her continue to add notes with photographs and felt his self control slip a notch.

He had worried that she might drive him crazy living with him while they worked. She hadn't even been with him twelve hours when he realized what was going to happen. She was going to make him want to never let her go.

[nevillelongsbottom]

rehearsals

pairing: ron x blaise x neville

word count: 1,125

links:

for the @hptriadsnet secret santa: happy holidays, @rose-grangerweasleyisbae!

-

Neville has never kissed anybody before.

Neville has, in fact, never even given much thought to his sexuality before; but the script in front of him dictates that he’s going to have to kiss Blaise, and he can’t say that he even particularly feels negatively about it. He’s just nervous because no doubt Blaise is a fantastic and experienced kisser, and Neville is a wet blanket.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Ron says. “It’s not that hard.”

Neville is not so convinced. He keeps stuttering over his lines that stray too close to the stage direction they kiss; Blaise shoots him a look every time as if knowingly, which serves only to make Neville chatter horribly through all of his reads. In fact, by the time Blaise deems them ready to move on to standing up and staging, Neville has probably proven himself only as a woefully incompetent actor worthy of nothing. He knew he should’ve taken Media instead. Neville can’t act - and, worse still, he can barely hold on to the bad Irish accent he’s forced to do. His native Leeds is inescapable. Blaise is never best pleased with him.

Then again, Blaise is never best pleased with anyone. He’s shouted his way through almost every rehearsal, picking apart Ron and Neville’s fairly listless performances to the last detail, trying to encourage some enthusiasm in them that’s hard to muster for two boys interested only in passing, and not by the margin passed. Neville feels bad, in a way. Blaise is a good actor, and is just evil and angry enough to be a good director - but even with Neville trying to constantly practice at home and Ron working up as much emotion in his voice as he possibly can, they can’t compete. Neville and Ron are turning Blaise into a laughingstock.

“Well, I mean,” Ron scoffs one lunchtime in one of the drama rehearsal rooms. “I’m doing my bloody best. Sorry it’s not good enough for Stalin over there.”

“He’s not that bad,” Neville says softly.

“You’re just trying to make him seem nicer so you’re not so disgusted when you have to kiss him,” Ron says testily. But Neville’s not so sure. “You can, like - kiss me first, if you want. For practice. So your first kiss doesn’t have to be him.” Ron looks away as he says it, flustered by his courage.

Neville dismisses the idea, flushing, and lets the days march on until the first proper rehearsal with staging and costumes. Not that Neville’s costume is anything more than just his casual clothes, but this is the rehearsal where he has to kiss Blaise for the first time, and even Blaise decides to address his nerves this time.

“Neville,” he says. “It’s fine. It’s just the three of us right now, and trust me when I say that no-one now or at the class performance will be judging your kissing abilities.”

“But everyone will remember if I fuck it up!”

“You can’t fuck it up, Neville. It’s kissing. Technically, it’s biologically hardwired.”

“I could fuck anything up, trust me.”

“Neville,” Blaise sighs. “Have some faith, darling, or you’ll never get any better at anything.” Without warning, which Neville supposes he’s glad of, Blaise takes Neville’s face into his hands and kisses him; Neville freezes with shock, and absolute inexperience, but finds himself acting on an impulse, kissing back, and when Blaise breaks away, his hands are touching Blaise’s waist. Neville blushes fiercely. “See? You weren’t so bad after all.”

“I don’t know about that,” Neville says bashfully, and Blaise swats at him with his copy of the script.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yes!”

In truth, Neville thinks he probably liked that kiss a little more than he expected to. He knows that kissing is nice, and he knows that he’s gay, but - he wonders, as rehearsals draw to a close, if maybe he likes Blaise in a way beyond just being casual acquaintances. He knows he has no chance with someone so beautiful and popular, so he supposes that it’s okay to tell Ron - they’ve practically shared their whole life stories since starting the play, and if there’s anyone he can complain to, it’s him.

Ron groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Oh, my God, me too. It’s gross. He’s gross. But - so pretty. And so out of our leagues. And I want to hate him so much because he’s such a prick but I just kinda bloody love it. I wish I was getting to kiss him. You’re a bastard.”

Neville, as it happens, seems to have been born with more luck than he was expecting: he’s about to leave for home after their last after-school rehearsal, hot on the heels of Ron, when Blaise taps his shoulder and asks him on a date.

Neville hovers. He thinks. He wants to say yes, but he just has this nagging feeling -

“Only if Ron can come,” he says boldly. God, please don’t let this fuck up his date; what possessed him? He begins to think he’s lost himself the date of his dreams when Blaise laughs.

“What, so we’re a triad instead of a couple?”

“If that’s okay.”

“That sounds like the dream,” Blaise purrs, tucking a strand of Neville’s hair behind his ear. “We’ll plan this tomorrow, then. After the performance.” Neville nods, and is only half surprised when Blaise leans down to kiss him; now, he lets himself expect it, lets his thoughts be wild and bold and more daring than before.

The performance, all in all, doesn’t go too badly - Blaise reckons they should all scoop good grades for it as they walk to the bathroom to change back into their uniforms. “For my directorial debut,” he says, “it wasn’t too bad at all.”

“For the crowd,” Ron adds. “What about for us?”

“Isn’t a date enough recompense?”

“A date?” Ron glances over wildly at Neville, who beams and nods. “Oh, blimey. Well, maybe. But it might take two to pay back all that. Hard work doesn’t come cheap!”

Blaise laughs again; he has a brilliant laugh, distinctive but not silly, clearly just the laugh of someone enjoying themselves. “Two dates sounds better than one,” he says, and shuts himself in a stall.

Ron rushes Neville so fast that this kiss is completely unexpected, and so fast Neville barely even gets to lean into it, a fact he rectifies by kissing Ron back.

“You beautiful bastard,” Ron whispers. “Two dates! Two dates, with the two of you - Jesus, that’s it, my life has peaked now.” And with that, he disappears into another stall, leaving Neville to ruminate on his reflection and wonder how far his faith could take him, if he applied himself.

[werewolfwilds]

i redid an ask meme that i had originally done ~3 years ago to see the comparison so for archiving purposes im putting it in a lil journal entry here ! i wanna start doing small journal entries again it was fun when i did that

new answers bolded

1) what images do you have set for your desktop/cell phone wallpapers?

my desktop bg is literally just…. a collage of kageyama manga screencaps a h a,,,, and my cellphone bg are drawings some gay drew me like 74724 years ago :v // my desktop rn is actually a background from one of the dmmd routes LMFAO..... idk which one it is but i’ve always liked those bg pics!! my cell lock screen is p5 art and my bg is leopika

2) have you ever had a crush on a teacher?

nooooope // nah

3) what was your last text message?

my phone is dead so i wouldnt be able to tell you lmfao i dont even remember // it was a gif from kelly lol

4) what do you see yourself doing in 10 years?

hopefully working a job i enjoy and making costumes and being happy!! // god i have no idea and it freaks me out... hopefully working,,

5) if you could be anywhere else right now, where would you be?

hoommee ((or at katsucon tbh)) // at the beach with friends maybe

6) what was your coolest halloween costume?

a white cat probably lmao // i dont think ive ever had a particularly exciting halloween costume but one year i was sharpay from high school musical and i think i peaked then tbh

7) what was your favorite 90s show?

uhhhh….. i didnt really… start watching tv until like… the 2000′s so i really cant tell you man lol // spongebob started in 1999 does that coUNT,

8) who was your last kiss?

(answer redacted) // :/ someone should kiss me so i can change this answer lmao

9) have you ever been stood up?

nope //  nah

10) favorite ice cream flavor?

vanilla w/ vanilla oreos ok u need to underst a n d // this hasn’t changed i haven’t had this particular ice cream in a long time but i still stand by it

11) have you been to las vegas?

nahh // nope

12) your favorite pair of shoes?

idk i have these black ones i wear everywhere lol // i have a pair of white sneakers that i refuse to stop wearing now

13) honestly, have you ever cheated on your significant other?

i wouldnt even consider it. // no bc i’m not a piece of shit lmao?

14) what is your favorite fruit?

hmmm…. pineapple orrr…. strawberries but only if they’re the really good kind like they have to be perfect // pineapple!!

15) have you talked to anyone on tumblr that you could see yourself  dating/having sex with? if possible?

….. ye s… yes. // in the past apparently so but thinking about it now nah lol

16) are you into hookups? short or long term relationships?

hookups arent my thing eh i prefer long term relationships altho i cant really say ive been in a “long” term relationship pffff // i don’t think hookups will ever be my thing, emotionally long term relationships are what i’m here for but i’m also a Very Impulsive Person so i cant tell you if this will stay a fact :’)

17) do you smoke? if so, what?

nope dont wanna // no thanks

18) what do you do to get over your anger?

usually talk to people or shout into word // i have to vent about it to someone probably a thousand times even months or years after it happens tbh

19) do you believe in god?

nahh // nah

20) does the person you’re in love with know it?

i aint in love with anyone rn so no? // i’m not in love with anyone.

21) favorite position?

………….. for w hat………. // oh honey lmfao... N/A

22) what’s your horoscope sign?

virgo/ox ovob // Virgo/sun, Aries/moon, Libra/rising and Cancer/midheaven

23) your fears?

literally everything i already named a few so ill name some others… ghh anything in… the ocean or lakes and stuff frightens me and i really dont know why bu tlike…. fish and crabs and jellyfish and seaweed cuz it’s evil and stu f f basically anything that’s not a mammal or turtles or penguins…. lo l im a baby // uncertainty is a big fear of mine and also people being mad at me lmao... as far as physical fears though i have debilitating fears of almost all insects/arachnids and lobsters/shrimp/crawfish :^)))))

24) how many pets do you have? what kind?

two cats and a dog!! // one cat one dog

25) what never fails to turn you on?

i dunno,,/////// // lol neck biting/kissing oof

26) your idea of a perfect first date?

im okay with mostly anything i just really like spending time with the person ; v ; // i’ve never really had an answer for this? thinking about dates has always made me so anxious for whatever reason but i’ll be happy to just spend time with them doing whatever honestly, i’m a super indecisive person aha

27) what is something most people don’t know about you?

i dont really know tbh lmfao // i’ve considered in the past looking into mental conditions (anxiety/bpd/etc) to see if i might have one or two but i never want to say anything about it because i don’t want to self-diagnose anything.

28) what makes you feel the happiest?

nice weather and nice conversations w/ best people u//v//u // nice weather and hanging out with people who are fun and easy to talk to

29) what store do you shop at most often?

does….. arda wigs count or… // does arda wigs still count bc mood lmao but truthfully now it’s probably target

30) how do you feel about oral? giving and/or receiving?

kkdkjsfkjkjfj??fsfj/// go for i t??? i have no problems with i t??? i dont think ill ever be willing to put a dick in my mouth though // these random sexual questions thrown in here are something aren’t they lmao. not going to disclose much but i will stand by the fact that i will not put a dick in my mouth lo l

31) do you believe in karma?

sometimes ye // i believe that people will eventually get what’s coming to them but i don’t believe in karma as a solid concept if that makes sense? like i don’t think it’s guaranteed

32) are you single?

yup yup // yeah it’s been wild lmao

33) do you think flowers or candy are a better way to apologize?

i think being sincere is the best way to apologize– if you truly mean it the person will know. you dont need to buy your forgiveness. // the best way to apologize is just to apologize sincerely and change your behavior if it’s applicable.

34) are you a good swimmer?

ehh??? im ok i guess– i took swimming lessons as a kid but i havent done legit swimming ever since then lmao,, ive always been best at the backstroke tho yea // i mean i have the ability to swim but i’m not olympic-worthy or anything lmao

35) coffee or tea?

ehhh im not big on either tbh // chocolate milk and you can fight me

36) online shopping or shopping in person?

depends what your shopping for i guess?? online is more relaxed i guess // online probably because shopping in person Gives Me Anxiety

37) would you rather be older or younger than your current age?

ehhh im happy where i am tbh // older

38) cats or dogs?

do not make me choose // cats and dogs* there i fixed it for you

39) are you a competitive person?

ahaa,,,,, oh god yeah,, // OOF yeah

40) do you believe in aliens?

i believe there’s life on other planets somewhere?? so i guess?? // i believe in aliens in the sense that there’s no way we are the only living life forms in the universe but not in the science-fiction way you feel me

41) do you like dancing?

i do but i suck at it lmao // i do but i: A- suck, and B- have no stamina

42) what kind of music to you listen to?

nearly everything tbh // i’m not picky when it comes to music but imma be real w u. almost all of the music on my phone is kpop. seventeen is my favorite group along with astro, and i also enjoy super junior, shinee, red velvet, etc among so many others,,, im pretty wide spread !

43) what is your favorite cartoon character?

i will never be able to pick just one // i’ll literally never be able to answer this

44) where are you from?

philadelphia uvu // philly!

45) eat at home or eat out?

hmmm at home. // at home

46) how much more social are you when you’re drunk?

i never plan on being drunk tyvm // i’ve never consumed alcohol in my life and to be Quite Fucking Honest i want nothing to do with it

47) what was the last thing you bought for yourself?

bracelets ! ; u ; // uh... excluding food and music... earrings i think

48) why do you think your followers follow you?

uhhhhhhh lmfao i have no idea i think… a good amount are for my cosplays at least?? or id like to think so lmfao but i really dont know pfft // my followers have just accumulated and hung around over the years... i know i gained a good amount from my snk days as arlert-the-troops and then through my haikyuu phase, whether it was for my cosplay or other posts that i made... whenever someone follows me now im not entirely sure what its for but i appreciate everyone who’s stuck around!

49) how many hours do you sleep at night?

it’s never regular man // 6-9 (lol) hours is pretty normal for me

50) what worries you most about the future?

everything tbh // the future as a concept worries me lol

[ravens-and-writings]

A Witch’s Familiar

Fantastic Beasts Inktober/Drabbletober Prompt Fill #31: Writer’s Pick.

Have a modernday AU featuring Auror Tina on Halloween duty. This far too long “drabble” also doubles as a fill for the last Promptober Prompt by @fantasticprompts.

And with this one I complete my Drabbletober writings. I hope you enjoyed it!

Halloween. For most of the No-Majs and Wizardkind it was the most fantastical time of the year: dressing up in extravagant or shocking costumes, walking up to stranger's houses and begging for candy, playing tricks and spooking each other for fun...

For Aurors it was unarguably the worst holiday of the year. Numerous wizards and witches trying to get away with a bit of magic in the open, poorly disguising it as mere magic tricks and slights of hand. People under the influence having their "fake" wands stolen by equally drunk No-Maj teens. And then some individuals thought to make a quick Dragot by selling potions and artifacts to No-Majs... conceived fakes that were anything but and often caused serious harm or damage. The number of illicit activities always spiked towards the end of October, and found its peak on Halloween night.

This year it was Tina and a small group of Aurors who patrolled the streets of Manhattan. MACUSA knew their usual culprits and had eyes on them, but feet on the ground were necessary, too. They knew what to look out for to stop any newcomers from spreading magical items among the No-Majs this night. So far, it had been pretty quiet, though.

"Alright, let's make a turn right over there and head back east again," Tina proposed. It would bring them right by Central Park, a hot-spot for illicit trade on Halloween.

The group was suitably dressed up to blend in with the unsuspecting No-Majs. There was the pirate, Johnson, complete with eyepatch to hide his actual missing eye. Diez had gone with a clown costume, though not the bright and colourful kind children were so fond of, while Higgins had turned into the token vampire for the night. Tina herself had made the most obvious costume choice there was. To the amusement of her colleagues she had donned dark robes and a pointy hat to dress up as a witch.

"I still don't know what's up with your cat, Goldstein," Higgins commented as they made their way across the street. "Something doesn't feel right about it."

Tina rolled her eyes and righted her pointy hat. This witch came with an actual familiar following on her heels tonight. "You say that about every animal."

Not long after their patrol had started, they had been joined by a red tabby cat. Much to her chagrin, she had instantly recognized the animal as an Animagus. And a certain, familiar Animagus, at that. Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, Magizoologist and overly curious boyfriend. He had wanted to see her on the job for a while now... and apparently thought tonight was a good time for it.

"Yeah, something's not right with that cat. It hissed and scratches at me when I tried to pet it earlier," Diez complained. "And cats usually love me."

"It's a he," Tina corrected them. "And yes, he's a very unusual fellow." She looked down to see Newt trotting right beside her on the sidewalk, as he had been for the past hour. "Overly stubborn, too. You must be bored out of your mind by now." The cat meowed up at her but stuck close.

"You got a very loyal companion there," Johnson added. She could tell from the tone of his voice that the older Auror knew exactly what the cat was.

She chuckled. "I know."

"Wait, that's your pet?" Diez exclaimed. He was the youngest of their group, barely out of training and still lacking a little in the observation department, it seemed.

"Something like that, yes."

Her wristband vibrated softly as a new message from headquarters came in. "We got a new address," she announced. " A 401." Spike of magical activity in a No-Maj residence.

The group nodded and ducked into the nearest alley, waiting for the leading witch to pick up her familiar before disapparating. "Okay. Let's go, people."

The address belonged to an old brownstone, not unsimilar to her own home. This one stood in a better part of Manhattan though, and was fixed up lavishly with spooky Halloween decorations. Thick spiderwebs, moving skeletons that looked eerily realistic, a few Jack O' Lanterns on the stairs...

"Keep your wands out," Tina said as she put her hand on the doorknob. "We don't know what we're dealing with."

A voice from the back spoke up. "Probably just a bunch of kids having fun on Halloween. How bad can it be?"

Just then a shrieking sound could be heard from inside, followed by a number of panicked screams.

Tina turned back to Diez and glared at him. "Yeah, just how bad can it be?"

The front door clicked open before her, revealing an equally enthusiastically decorated inside of the house. These No-Majs really went all out for Halloween, it seemed.

"Newt, no!"

The moment the door was open, the tabby cat bolted forward, off into the hallway and vanishing through the next open door, deeper into the house. Tina only barely supressed her impulse to run in after him. He was a capable wizard, she told herself. He'd been all over the world, wrangling down beasts off all kinds... he'd be able to look after himself. And Newt probably knew a great deal more about what lay ahead than they did, thanks to his cat senses.

"Goldstein. We going in or what?"

She nodded at Higgins and slowly proceeded into the house, wand raised and ready to stun whatever was waiting for them here. The smell of something burning became stronger, the further she got in. The hallway was empty of No-Majs or any threats, though, as was the kitchen beyond.

"Livingroom," Johnson mouthed, pointing to the swing door in front of her. The smokey smell seemed to come from behind there.

She nodded. "Diez, front door. Make sure, no one leaves behind our backs." She watched the young Auror retreat before pushing through the door... and stopped in her tracks not two steps into the room.

Tina Goldstein had expected some form of havoc and mayhem waiting for her in the livingroom and she was not disappointed: furniture overthrown and smashed, parts of it on fire. Just like some of the spooky decorations were. She had, however, not expected to see her boyfriend right in the midst of it. Newt Scamander was kneeling by the stylish fireplace and cooed at a medium-sized baby dragon that mustered him curiously.

"Calm down now," she heard him say. "Everything's going to be alright. You're going to be alright." The dragon sniffed at his outstretched hand for a moment before erupting into a violent sneeze, spewing little sparks everywhere.

Tina finally reacted then, checking for further creatures and locating the No-Majs that had to be here somewhere. She found them huddled together by the second doorway, staring at the scene in disbelief. As were her colleagues, much to her dismay.

"Right. Higgins, put the fires out. Johnson, look after the people there."

The watched them scramble before carefully approaching Newt and the beast. "Care to explain, mister?"

He glanced at her for a short moment, not letting the baby dragon out of his sight for long. By now it had calmed down again and even became agreeable to some petting. Curious little creature.

"You know that I've been tracking a group of traffickers for a while now," he said. "Stolen dragon eggs, from reserves and wild nests alike. They never showed up on the markets, though."

Tina nodded. "Yeah, I remember. "

"Well, meet one of the eggs." He gestured at the beast before him, and the pile of crimson eggshells near the fire.

She stared at him. "How did you-?"

"I overheard some No-Majs talking on the subway this morning, saying someone was selling really realistic looking dragon eggs on this internet thing the Muggles have. This is a Chinese Fireball and their eggs are really a sight to behold." He grimaced. "Of course, extravagant people like this would want one for their Halloween decorations."

"Mercy Lewis... why would anyone want that?"

Newt shook his head. "Apparently they're all the rage now. Something about a television show from what I heard."

Tina shook her head. "Poor beast. That must have been a shock, hatching in here." She watched the scarlet hatchling clumsily taking a few steps towards them. "Please take care of him until the Beast Division arrives, okay?"

Newt nodded and settled down, rummaging through his coat pockets. "Come here, you. You must be hungry, huh?"

She turned back to find Higgins idling about now that the fires were out, curiously watching the scene again. "Higgins, we got a trafficking situation going on here. Go back to headquarters and fill them in. And call in the Beast Division with their Dragonologists."

"Yeah, okay. I'm on it." The Auror in his vampire get-up stared for a few moments longer before finally disapparating... hopefully back to MACUSA.

"Who are you?" the older No-Maj suddenly called out from the back, eyes wide and still slightly shocked by the turn of events. "And what is that thing? And that guy? He was a cat and then-" He gestured wildly. "Just... who are you people?"

"Don't worry, sir," Tina calmed him, quickly slipping off the pointy hat for a more professional look. "We're police. That thing is a Dragon, just hatched from the egg you bought online. Care to tell us a bit more about that?"

That seemed to do something to the man, suddenly turning defensive at the realisation of strangers and the police in his home. "I'm not gonna answer any questions until I see a badge first!"

Tina rolled her eyes and produced one, thankful that MACUSA's Auror badges were charmed to appear as ordinary NYPD ones to any No-Maj eyes. "Now, the egg. Who sold it to you?"

By the end of the night, there had been 10 more incidents of freshly hatched dragons in Muggle homes all across the country. And one successful major arrest of a trafficking ring. The group operating from a dusty old warehouse in Brooklyn had not been quick enough in vacating the premises, though not for lack of trying.

Tina fell into her desk chair in the small hours of the morning, groaning in delight of being off her feet for the first time in hours.

Newt grinned at the sight, offering her a well-deserved cup of coffee. "You did well tonight. I wouldn't be surprised if your next promotion came up a little faster after this."

She shook her head. "No, we did well tonight. Though I don't appreciate you keeping things like that from me. You said you'd be out with Jacob."

He shrugged. "It was just a hunch I had... there was no way of knowing if they'd even hatch tonight. Not all of the buyers put their eggs by the fire, after all. And I wouldn't have been allowed to tag along on an official Auror investigation."

She shot him a glare ove the rim of her mug. "You wouldn't have been allowed to tag along on any Auror business, actually. You're lucky you're a cute little tabby or Higgins might have kicked you to get rid of you."

She heard a pile of paper dropping to the floor behind her. "Wait, you're-?" Tina turned around to find Diez standing a few paces behind them.

"-the cat that tagged along earlier?" Newt chuckled. "Yes. I'm an Animagus."

The young Auror stared at them. "Oh no. I'm so sorry!"

"Where do you think he dropped by from so suddenly?" Tina couldn't help but ask after Newt accepted the apology.

The man shrugged and hastily raked the papers together before dropping them onto Tina's desk. "I dunno. Came in with the Beast Division perhaps?" He quickly glanced at Newt again before hurrying off again into the maze of cubicles, muttering to himself. "Mercy Lewis, I tried to pet Newt Scamander today!"

"Tried being the key word there," Newt grinned after he had left. He leaned close and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, as he so often did to show his affection in public. "There's only one Auror who gets to pet me, cat or otherwise."

Tina smiled up at him. "I love you, too."

[irlpinkiepie]

a house built on sand, chapter 4

a bnha fic

Dreams are fickle creatures.

Sometimes the most certain can fall apart at a moment’s notice, and sometimes, the most fantastic dreams have a chance of coming true.

Of course, that all depends on the dreamer.

[ao3]

Of course, it was naïve of her to believe that a single conversation with her hero would suddenly make all of Izuku’s dreams come true. Though maybe that meant that she was wrong to have been disheartened in the first place? Whatever, none of that matters, she’s working with All Might now!!! How many other girls her age can say that?!

To be fair, she couldn’t say it because of the whole ‘keeping it secret’ thing, but she was still thrilled beyond belief.

The rest of their talk mostly amounted to vague hints on his part as to how this plan would work, ecstatic nodding on her part, and a promise to meet at the local beach tomorrow after school to discuss the finer points. Why the beach, she had no clue, but she was more than willing to trust him. In fact, she didn’t think twice about her miracle meeting until, after skipping up the steps to her house and through the front door, her mother asked her how it went with the UA representative that afternoon and she could only stutter in confusion in reply.

“Well,” Inko said, smiling brightly at her daughter, “I got a call from their principal around lunch, saying that since the school year had officially started, they were going to start sending out teachers to talk about the application process - Katsuki’s mother said the same thing when I asked her about it, so when you were late coming home from school I figured that was why!”

Izuku sat down next to her on the sofa, hands held over her lap and crossing her ankles. How to handle this? No point in trying to obscure the truth, better to hear now than on the news.

“Actually, uh,” she stuttered, “there was a villain attack on the way back from school… and Katsuki…” With that, she silently closed her eyes and leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder, the weight of the events that afternoon suddenly brought into sharp relief by her detachment from them.

Inko wrapped her arms around her daughter and ran a hand through her tangled brown hair, feeling the parts of it still damp from the slime. “I’m so sorry, honey… I’m just glad you’re safe.” She blinked. “Wait, is--?”

Izuku nodded, tears forming in her eyes.

Her mother kept hugging her. It was the most powerful thing she could say.

By the time Izuku was lying down on her bed, staring up at the soft light of the glow-in-the-dark stars which adorned her ceiling, she had accepted that she had almost died multiple times, and that because of that, her hero not only knew who she was but was helping her achieve her dream. Connecting those facts to everything else in her life, though, proved much more arduous.

Maybe it was a dream. There was something which still felt entirely unreal about the entire exchange. For one, what was so special about her that All Might would want to help her become a hero? There were plenty of chance rainbows and sunny days that inspired her to not kill herself on a bad day, but she never gave them personal tutoring on a whim.

Wait, no, that’s a depression thought. Ignore that.

What about his plan, though? As much as she had always dreamed of being a hero, she always imagined something more like in the comics she had read - a sudden mutation that generates a quirk, or medication that induces powers, or the discovery of an amazingly powerful ability she had had all along. The idea of becoming a hero without any quirk whatsoever seemed so incredibly foreign to her that she couldn’t imagine how it could ever be done, let alone how someone with an incredibly powerful quirk could teach her the way.

No, All Might is a good hero; he knows what he’s doing. If he trusts enough to share his secret, trust should be given in return.

There was a brief moment where she thought she might have actually died, that whatever was happening was some kind of afterlife, but dwelling on that too much meant going back to the villain attack again, and she could already feel herself getting sick thinking about it. Eventually, she resolved herself to just try her best to sleep, hoping to avoid thinking about it for as long as possible.

Luckily, she didn’t dream that night.

All Might stared down at the phone in his hand, gazing absentmindedly at yet another news article about his latest exploits. He wasn’t sure why he was still reading these.

Another e-mail from Nezu. Yes, he was alright; yes, he understood that the roles of his job were supposed to be his priority; yes, he was on track and wouldn’t have any trouble; yes, he was definitely still alright. As much as it sometimes felt overbearing, he did appreciate the compassion.

Izuku, though. He was glad to have had the opportunity to talk to her again, but what on earth was that? Talk about an impulsive reaction.

It was probably for the best, he supposed; he was worried about a lack of practice. Besides, changing people’s lives was his favorite part of being a hero. Just, usually it happened because he saved them, and not because he promised almost a year of his time to help them do the impossible. What’s life without a challenge, though?

He would have to figure out how to turn a vague idea into something remotely likely to succeed, with no experience, but that was a problem for tomorrow him.

Thinking that, he fell back onto his bed, arms splayed. There was still something that bugged him about the number of people to whom he had had to confess recently - not just to cover accidental transformations, but also to buy this apartment, to get identification cards, even a couple of weeks ago to the rest of the staff. He was still managing to keep track so far, but he was beginning to worry.

School was uneventful, or perhaps unmemorable. Izuku just stuck to her schedule and hummed through her classes, in desperate anticipation of what would follow. By the time school finally let out, she practically burst through the door in a mad dash for Dagobah Beach Park. She had somewhat forgotten what was actually there, though.

Past the gate, rather than the idyllic spring beach she had pictured, was a mountain of trash and discarded goods, almost like an impromptu landfill. Refrigerators jutted out from its slopes, washing machines littered the base, and the entire ocean side glimmered with the artificial sheen of thousands of plastic bags. Standing at the top of it, though, was All Might - transformed, posing, and dressed in his iconic red and blue Golden Age outfit that he debuted seven years earlier.

Izuku could do nothing but stare in admiration.

Seeing her arrive, he jumped down from the peak and landed gently in front of her. “Well then,” he said, dusting off the sand from the front of his costume, “shall we get started?”

“Oh! Uh, sure,” she stuttered nervously. “But… why are you transformed?”

All Might laughed uproariously, replying, “Are you worried about me, my girl? I appreciate it, but it was just a slow day as a hero, and it only made sense to go for the flashy introduction. I’ve got plenty of time left, fret not.”

“O-okay then,” Izuku said, still somewhat shocked at the entire situation. It still seemed hard to believe that any of this was even remotely real.

“So!” he declared. “What is the most important skill that a hero can have?” Izuku had no clue how to respond. After a few seconds had passed with no answer, he asked, “Do you not know? I would figure that somewhere in those books you’re writing, there would at least be a good guess.”

“Well, I mean,” she replied, shaking slightly, “they aren’t exactly thorough analyses per se, as much as just catalogues of heroes and their quirks; it never really occurred to me to prioritize anything in particular, and in fact usually I tried to be impartial when--”

Her train of thought was interrupted by another chuckle from All Might. “Sure, sure.” He didn’t exactly sound unhappy, but definitely he was more apprehensive than she was expecting. “But what about when two heroes have similar quirks but different levels of success? I’ve seen that happen to my colleagues; surely you must have noticed something like that.”

“Oh, uh…” Think, think! “Normally it’s when, uh, when there’s a difference in strengths between the two quirks, or occasionally because of random chance when one mostly fought villains against whom their quirks were more effective.”

“Exactly!” All Might shouted in response. “Their powers were more effective in the situation they were in. And if you want to be a good hero, that’s all you need. Any kid with a fire quirk can make a decent living by beating up the ice villains.” Izuku felt somewhat tense at that, but tried not to let it show.

“But,” he continued, “strength of a quirk does not always a hero make. The most important skill that a hero can have is the ability to act even when a quirk is ineffective. Did you think I beat that villain yesterday by punching him? Because I can assure you, that would have been thoroughly useless.”

She hadn’t actually considered it, but she supposed he had a point. “How did you beat him, then?” she asked.

“Well,” he said, sitting down in the sand, “the first time was harder. As soon as I showed up, he let go of you and started chasing me, and I figured he could only attack one person at a time - from there, it wasn’t that hard to guess that he wasn’t just smothering people, he was possessing them, and he could probably sense the strength of my quirk.” As he spoke, he started drawing diagrams in the sand, showing the three of them moving around as he described. “Anyway, from there I just had to grab an empty trash bag, bait him into it, and then carefully pour that bag into something that I could seal.”

Izuku was enraptured.

“Once I worked out how to beat him, it was a cinch to repeat it - especially since the poor guy wasn’t smart enough to learn from his own mistakes and not go after me twice. Saffir was on duty, I asked her to make a vacuum out of air currents, and it wasn’t that hard to find another bottle. Honestly, it’s a travesty she didn’t get more news time, as much as I tried, but the media have their favorites and it’s hard to shake that.”

As obvious as it seemed in hindsight, the idea that there were more ways to defeat villains than by simply using a quirk baffled her. Suddenly, the idea that she might actually be able to do this went from a wild fantasy to something possible, maybe even plausible.

“So.” All Might wiped the sand clear of the circles and arrows he had been sketching, and then stood up. “Now you know what it means to be a hero. I cannot possibly teach you everything you need to know before entrance exams in February, but I can cover enough to let you pass them - that is, of course, if you’re willing to learn,” he finished, leaning in expectantly.

“Of course!” she exclaimed. “That sounds absolutely amazing! I wouldn’t turn it down for the world.”

“Wonderful,” came his reply, followed closely by a plume of smoke. Back in his civilian form, he continued, “In that case, you should get to work fighting your first villain.”

Izuku blinked, and then looked around in a panic. There was a villain here? Where? How could All Might have even organized such a thing? Was she ready for that yet? Was--

“Don’t tell me you’ve managed to miss what’s right in front of you!” he chuckled, turning around and gesturing up to the pile of refuse which covered the beachfront.

Oh.

“If you can defeat this,” he declared, “you’ll be ready for the exam.”

No way. There is no possible way.

“I’m sorry if you thought this was going to be easy.” All Might was sitting down now, arms folded. “It’s doable, I can assure you that much, but it’s going to be extremely difficult, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it takes you all year. Decem menses de infernum. But I have faith.”

That was all that Izuku needed to hear. If All Might believed in her, she could too. “I’ll do my best.”

“Wonderful! In that case, I should give you this.” He leaned back towards the rubbish pile and grabbed a brown satchel bag, which he tossed gently to her. Looking inside, she found a thick stack of paper, tied together at one corner, the first page reading triumphantly the words:

AIM TO SUCCEED!: American Dream Plan

“This,” he said with a smile, “is a schedule that should get you all the way there. Again, it’s going to be hard, but it’s doable.”

Looking through it, Izuku was suddenly much less optimistic. He had meticulously detailed everything, it looked like, and she was not looking forward to many of those numbers - especially the first and last ones.

“I’m ready,” she said, doing her best to match his smile.

“Good. Then we start now.”

In the mornings, Izuku woke up at 5:00, and she’d be at the beach by 5:20 - that's when the cleanup began.

“So, why the beach?” she asked on one of their first days together, in the process of pulling a washing machine across the sand towards the truck All Might had prepared. “Why not just go to a gym, if the exercise is important?”

“And why would you ever want to do that?” All Might replied, relaxing on a beach chair by the doors at the back.

“Well, I mean, it just seems like a hassle…” Maybe that was a silly question.

“There are two reasons,” he said, still not moving from his chair, but grabbing a bottle of water from the cooler next to him and rolling it towards her. “First of all, unless you're very lucky, you're not going to fight most of your villains in a gym. What you fight is mobile, ever-changing, and there's not an exercise machine in the world that can replicate the feeling of going out and doing work.” Izuku had brought the broken machine up to the sidewalk at this point, and was now struggling to lift it into the truck.

“The more important reason, though,” he continued, “is that you really are fighting a villain by doing this. I know it may not be the flashiest work in the world, but pollution is a serious problem. That this community park is being tarnished by all this trash is awful, and you should be proud to be helping.”

Thinking about it like that, suddenly the work seemed much lighter. The next machine she brought to the truck seemed almost effortless.

After that, head to school.

Izuku and Katsuki had mostly stopped talking after the villain incident that first day. She was more than grateful for this, though, as it meant that suddenly it was much easier to focus on the work she was doing. While being a meticulous note-taker was already in her blood, it was occasionally hard to focus that onto her schoolwork; the thought of that work propelling her into her dream school, though, was more than enough to motivate her.

A couple of months into the plan, she'd started doing light exercises under her desk while she worked. Small, single hand weights, or hand grippers, if only to keep herself busy during what was often a fairly monotonous school day. Besides, she always felt guilty spending so much time not practicing, and this seemed like a compromise in her book.

Then, back to the beach.

There was nothing on the schedule Izuku had that told her what she would be doing each day, but she worked it out fairly quickly. One day out of three, she came to the beach park, saw the truck parked by the sidewalk, and knew that it was time to start moving trash again.

It was on one of those days, around late July, that in the middle of dragging a loaded bag across the sand, Izuku collapsed. All Might ran over to her to check her breathing, and seemed to be on the verge of a lecture before he noticed her shaking legs and blank stare, and simply sighed. “You’ve been overexerting yourself, haven’t you?” he said concernedly.

“I… have to,” she gasped in response. “Otherwise… I can’t… be the best…”

All Might sat down next to her, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and smiled gently. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, my girl, but your body needs time to rest. If we’re going too slowly for you, however, I’d be happy to push you more during these sessions.”

Izuku nodded. The next day, she left her weights at home.

Sometimes, All Might would wait for her wearing a suit and tie, glasses tucked into his pocket, and she knew that it was a teaching day. He didn’t exactly look professional in this outfit, given that he was rarely transformed and all of his clothes were far too baggy for him, but she thought the effort was nice.

“Pop quiz,” he said to her when she arrived one October afternoon. “What are the three types of quirks?”

“Emitter, Transformer, and Mutator,” she replied, counting them off on her fingers as she went.

“And how would you combat someone with an unknown quirk in general?” he asked in response.

“Observe and analyze first and foremost, then come up with a solution. For Emitter-type, focus on the source of the power and attack them in a way which minimizes their ability to use it; for Transformer-type, try to adjust the environment of the fight to put their quirk at a disadvantage, or failing that prevent them from using it; for Mutator-type, attack the weak points of their mutation and try to manipulate the fight to expose them.” She had been taught every piece of this answer over the course of the last few months, and putting it together was a cinch at this point.

“Very good!” he exclaimed, beaming. “Of course, you’ll learn a lot of this again once you get into UA, but knowing it now is definitely going to be useful.”

Izuku looked at him puzzled for a moment. “Speaking of, I was told that one of the teachers was supposed to meet me to talk about the application, but I never heard back about that? I almost forgot until now…”

At this, All Might chuckled. “One of the teachers did meet you. Did you never check the back of the plan?”

She hadn’t. Grabbing her bag and flipping to the last page, there was a piece of paper with a UA header on it, which she read fervently. It was a letter, addressed to her home, which detailed the calendar for application and the topics that the written exam would cover - as well as a handwritten note announcing the employment of a new teacher for the coming academic year, All Might.

He--

“I can’t believe you never read it! I almost feel disappointed,” he said with a smile. “I was on my way to deliver it when I saw you coming home and realized just who Izuku Midoriya really was, and at that point I felt like it was worth skipping all the setup. Besides, when we first talked, you didn’t have any doubts about UA; it’s not as though you missed out on much.”

“Still,” she replied, “it’s a little hard to imagine All Might, the Symbol of Peace, as a high school teacher.”

“You’re right; you’re probably used to me teaching junior high!” he said, and they shared a laugh. “Anyway, while we’re talking about teaching, we should probably go over mobility and scouting patterns…”

The days Izuku cherished, though, were the very few - usually right after exams or on holidays, but occasionally as a special treat - where instead of teaching or supervising, All Might would simply sit down on the steps leading to the waterfront, and the two of them would just talk. She was still nervous on the first few such days, and was more than happy to listen to his stories of heroism, but eventually she felt comfortable to chime in with her own stories - some she had catalogued in her books, some from school, and some from what she hoped would be her future.

On one of those days in mid-December, he brought hot chocolate. Izuku had recently taken to wearing a fluffy, fur-lined coat, which seemed neutral enough to be safe but still made her happy to put on. Her hair had also made decent progress towards growing out, though it was still “unconscionably messy” in her mother’s eyes.

Sitting down next to him and holding the cup to her chest, she was lost in the moment for a while before All Might interrupted with a simple statement. “I’d like to talk about next year.”

“Wh-what about it?” she stuttered. She had no clue what he could mean by that.

“Well, I mean,” came his response, “new year, new school - new you?” He looked up at her and smiled gently.

Izuku looked down and closed her eyes for a second before meeting his gaze with her own smile. “I think so, yeah.”

“Do you want to change your name, too?” he asked, pulling forms out of his bag. “It’s not that much of an added cost with your other paperwork, and it would be easier in the long run.”

This one, she knew the answer to already. “I appreciate the offer, but I couldn’t give this name up. Besides, it’s not like there are that many other Izukus out there.”

“Fair enough!” All Might’s smile lit up the dark beachfront like a beacon. “You should still fill out the rest of these, though,” he said, passing a now slightly thinner stack of papers to her.

She looked through them intently and filled them out as best she could. “Quirk reassignment application?”

“That’s just a technicality,” he explained. “Normally, we’d never be allowed to accept someone without a quirk, and it seems a shame to risk it. Fortunately, super strength is so commonly discovered late they won’t even check it; you just have to send in the papers.”

Izuku nodded, and then continued writing. As time passed, the setting sun made the papers too difficult to see, and she had to resort to the tiny flashlight of her cell phone to finish the last pages, but eventually she finished and passed them back to All Might, who tucked them gently back into his bag. “Well then,” she said, “I should probably get going.”

“I feel like there’s time for one more story,” he replied, still smiling. “If you’re willing to tell it.”

Why not.

“Well, I was thinking of dyeing my hair…”

After the beach, she would head back home, usually just in time for dinner. One day in January, though, her arrival marked the start of her mother going through with her and opening packages and letters for about fifteen minutes. All in all, she had received a new birth certificate, passport, and quirk registration, which she gave to her mom for safekeeping; a box of green hair dye, plus another bottle of single-day dye for the exam; and most importantly for her, a miniature wardrobe of girls’ clothes. Izuku tried every single one of them on that night, and she couldn’t have been happier.

Then, studying, homework, and then bed. Try as she might, she could never make sleep any more interesting than it was.

Izuku didn’t realize it had happened at first. She had just rounded up another bag, emptied it into the back of the truck, and walked back to the beach, only to find that there was nothing left to remove.

She was done.

If the sun had risen yet, it would have shone over the beach, illuminating the glittering white sand as a testament to her efforts. But it was still several hours before dawn, and the dark waves broke against the dark shore almost imperceptibly, and she was done nonetheless.

“It’s weird,” she said to All Might as he came down to congratulate her. “Even though I know I’m done now, I still feel like I should be doing more.”

“That, my girl,” he replied, the delight on his face impossible to hide, “is the mark of a true hero.”

She couldn’t believe she had ever doubted herself.

“That being said, you should probably head home and get ready. Today’s exam day, after all, and you’ve only got a couple hours left.” OH RIGHT THE EXAM WAS TODAY SHE HAD TOTALLY FORGOTTEN WAS SHE PREPARED ENOUGH--

“If you could do this, you can handle a test,” All Might said, and while that didn’t quiet her nerves, it definitely calmed them. “Now go!!!”

Izuku waved back at him before turning forward and rushing off.

[cutesilyo]

On Love: Anxiety (A Yuuri Katsuki Analysis)

The thing about Yuuri is that he's such a relatable character to me. Even more so now that he's in a relationship with Victor, so I can honestly say that YOI is the anime that I've always needed.

Because:

Yuuri has anxiety.

Yuuri is in a relationship.

Yuuri is in a relationship with someone he thinks is too good for him.

Yuuri has a low opinion of himself.

Yuuri is an unreliable narrator.

Yuuri hates losing.

...and etc.

These are all things that I can relate to! So, forgive me, but I absolutely hate how this anime ended. And although I loathed Episode 12 to death, the ending of Episode 11 was something I didn't expect and yet it was something I didn't know I needed — mainly because Yuuri’s anxiety reared its ugly head in a way that I am all too familiar with.

[Pictured: Yuuri Katsuki clenching his fists in an attempt to gather up the courage to ruin his own life for Victor's sake]

i.e. Cutting your own losses before you lose them.

So from the perspective of someone who also has low self-esteem and is in a relationship with someone who I think deserves much better, here's why I believe Episode 11 was necessary in a way that Episode 12 did not give justice to. Here we go!

You see, I have this tiny theory here about what Yuuri was thinking when he said those words that ultimately broke everybody's hearts. Everybody's been talking about it since the episode aired. But here I am, regardless, because I need to deposit these two cents of mine even though the account is already positively overflowing.

There's this belief I have, and I have no idea if this is just something that I have because I've been raised with an Oriental mindset or something specific to just me, but I'm afraid of being too happy. I believe I can only achieve a particular level of happiness; if I experience more happiness that I deserve, bad things happen. If I have too much, you bet your ass at least some of that will get taken away.

There needs to be balance in this world, or so I and many others believe — there is no shadow without light, and the moon has no meaning if she is not opposite the sun. Suffering and happiness? They go hand in hand. And in the same vein, there is no success without strife —  and that's widely preached. But the opposite is also true; because there is no strife without success, and I'm willing to bet my non-existent balls that Yuuri and Victor are kind of the epitome of the latter.

[Pictured: Victor Nikiforov before he met Yuuri Katsuki, i.e. incredibly lonely and trusting only a dog for providing him constant companionship]

And while Victor's end of the spectrum — his gold medals were the fruits of labor that his loss to life and love bore — were given their high-key focus in Episode 10, Yuuri's end of the spectrum was a low-key theme throughout the entire series. Yuuri's talents were paid with leaving his hometown and family to pursue an incredibly unconventional career choice, having the press hound him for every anxiety attack that he can't control, and bearing that enormous pressure of representing his entire nation on his shoulders — and his poor anxiety-ridden heart can't deal with that most of the time.

[Pictured: Yuuri Katsuki's mouth giving an involuntary wobble before he forces himself to smile for his parents' sake, also known as a frame that deserves more attention]

There's a stereotype for Asian parents: that if their child gets less than an A, it's a failure. It's a joke most of the time; for Yuuri, he applies that to his entire career as a competitive figure skater. Add the fact that he's representing the whole of Japan for one of the highest titles a figure skater can get, and the anxiety he's developed over the years, and you get a bundle of nerves on the best days — complete breakdowns at the worst.

Plus his dog died just days before, or maybe even during, one of the most important competitions in his life.

Oh, and he is an unbelievably sore loser.

[Pictured: Yuuri Katsuki in that infamous shot of him breaking down in the bathroom; note that he only lets himself cry when he thinks that there is nobody around to see him]

And he's probably thinking i could have done better and he's probably thinking i guess i really should retire, but I propose that he's also thinking this is payment for all the other competitions i've won, isn't it? That he's thinking, this is payment for all the hardships i've put on everyone else. That he's thinking, oh well, i guess i deserve this after all.

It's like all the little bad things he's done over the years have finally come back to haunt him in one big smack of karmic retribution, right after the cruelties of fate have already given him a taste of what it felt like to be part of the winning team. Because don't tell me that Yuuri didn't feel this sense of pride, of fulfillment, of complete and utter joy when he was assigned to the GP Series and qualified for the Finals. That he didn't feel happy when he got the chance to train, abroad, with an actual coach and an actual rink despite just coming from small, seaside Hasetsu. That he didn't arrive at Detroit, wide-eyed and nervous but so young and hopeful, knowing that he was the JSF's certified top skater.

Then he lost at the GPF and he probably felt like all of that went moot. That all of a sudden, all his medals and trophies and successes didn't mean anything anymore. There's a reason why Minami was introduced, after all: to bring home the point that while Yuuri thinks he's an average skater, it doesn't mean that it's necessarily true.

It's further cemented by the fact that, when Minami says that his costume was inspired by one of Yuuri's older ones, he's mortified as he shrieks, "That's a costume from my dark past!"

Minami, bless him, talks back and says that Yuuri doesn't have a dark past to speak of. He's the actual cinnamon roll of YOI, guys. Imagine how happy he was when he cheered for Yuuri in the GPF in Yuuri's own house and saw, in person, all the trophies that Yuuri had been keeping in the background — and the fact that Yuuri even keeps them in the background speaks so much of his lack of self-worth that it deserves its own meta.

[Pictured: Kenjiro Minami, tears in his eyes as he screams out at his idol: You don't have a dark past! Don't make fun of me for looking up to you for so long and trying to catch up with you! — breaking our hearts in the process]

So, basically: if Yuuri had given all he had with skating, was rewarded with triumphs and successes only to feel like that had all been taken away when he was dead last at the GPF (and not to mention, he probably feels like all of this was justified); why wouldn't he feel that way about Victor?

Because Victor makes him happy. So happy, in fact, that his skating and confidence levels have reinvented themselves as a response to Victor's presence in Yuuri's personal life. Why wouldn't he think that Victor was too good to be true? Why wouldn't he be scared that the cruelties of fate would, once again, take away his source of happiness in a twisted form of giving balance to the world?

So he comes up with defense mechanisms. He blabbers in metaphor and dabbles in double-meanings (Episodes 1-3) and he feels so relieved that Victor seems to accept that it's just the way he prefers to express himself (Episode 4). But then he keeps falling and falling and he gathers up the courage to be more accepting of his past because of Victor (Episode 5), to be more bold for Victor (Episode 6), to be more couple-y with Victor. (Episode 8)

And ordinarily, that would be a good thing right? He's growing up! There's character development! He has more confidence now!

But YOI, god bless YOI, shows that anxiety doesn't just go away. It comes back to haunt you and when you're at your weakest, it strikes. This is best exemplified in Episodes 7 and 9, where it's glaringly obvious — but in Episode 11, it takes some understanding of the previous episodes to know that the entirety of the drama comes from Yuuri simply being an unreliable narrator again than from any actual basis.

[Pictured: Two similar shots of Yuuri Katsuki from Episode 4 and Episode 11 respectively — the former, a happy blush as he prays give me Victor's time, if only just for now; the latter, horror dawns as Yuuri comes to the conclusion that Victor wants to go back to the ice and that their time together is ending]

Because Yuuri is the epitome of unreliable narrator, and Episode 10 was the ultimate peak of the mountain that YOI has been building from the very first episode — in an anime that opens with the self-deprecating protagonist reading articles about his loss, which is intentionally and deliberately set up to overshadow the fact that despite his loss he's still competing in one of the biggest competitions in the figure skating world.

The other thing that YOI has chosen to keep from us until Episode 10 was that despite the entire world being clamorous for him to go back to the ice, Victor actually . . . doesn't want to do that at all. He literally calls it a shackle on his neck. He waxes poetic about the life and love that Yuuri has given him, that he has neglected for so long. He gets kicked in the back and declared as dead by Yurio, and the most he does is mockingly crouch down and ask, did you want to compete against me?

Having Episode 10 come right before the massive fuck-up in Episode 11 was both an explanation and a warning: yeah, yuuri did all that and victor fell in love with him first. now remember how different things looked back in episode 1. because we're gonna go back to that in the next episode and y'all need to know what's real and what's just what yuuri assumes.

And the thing about Episode 10 is that it triggers this impulse to rewatch the entire series from Victor's perspective and contrast that to how different we saw it when it was just Yuuri's perspective we knew about. Doing that brings more impact to Episode 11, I think — which also highlights that despite Yurio found a friend, he still has some humility to learn and his arc isn't finished yet just because he managed to perfect Agape. While I do think he was being too mean (to a point that I considered it OOC, after Episodes 9 and 10), that's a different post altogether.

[Pictured: Celestino Cialdini comforts a sullen Yuuri Katsuki during the Sochi GPF; comes with Yuuri's monologue of I could never openly say that I'd win gold, but I never skated with the thought in my mind that I'd lose anyway]

I think that the way that Yuuri reflects to himself during his FS in Episode 9 echoes how he feels toward Victor. That despite never really admitting out loud that he wanted a gold, he never actually believed he would ever lose either — Yuuri let himself stay stagnant while tiptoeing between having the potential to be a winner and actually being one. In the same vein, Yuuri found himself walking that same fine line between being Victor's future and being Victor's has-been; someone between everything and something, but never actually nothing.

Yuuri let his anxiety get the better of him and he decided that being Victor's past would be best outcome he could ever hope to get. The events of Episode 11 have led him to believe that he would never be Victor's future; or at least, he would never be the future that Victor actually wants. And in Yuuri's twisted justifications, it would be a good thing that they would end their relationship after the GPF; it gives Victor the freedom to do whatever he wants and it gives the Yuuri the relief of not having delved deeper into the idea of them being an actual concrete relationship.

[Pictured: Victor Nikiforov, part of a newly discovered evolved species of humans called homo superior]

Except Victor, unlike Yuuri, has already considered the prospects of having a relationship without a time stamp and jumped right into it. Victor has already established in Episode 10 that he wants Yuuri, and that he would definitely choose a life without competitive skating specifically because it meant getting the love of a lifetime. Screw the consequences, he's getting what he wants and he will put every fiber of his being into nurturing this relationship that gives him all of the happiness that he never thought he could have.

He just never verbalized it. So while Victor gets the concrete proof that Yuuri wants him in the form of giving him the rings (although he does so in a way that implies he doesn't want to admit it), Yuuri doesn't.

[Pictured: Yuuri Katsuki, in doubt of where Victor's happiness truly lies: in a life with skating or a life without it]

Yuuri gets soft and sweet and cuddly Victor and it's enough to make Yuuri hope but it's not enough to help Yuuri understand that Victor truly wants him — how much Yuuri changed him. He knows the Victor that is, as Minako says in Episode 1, free with his charms and winks at the cameras and is touchy-feely with a man he just met; a Victor who was bored and had an impulse decision to coach him and ended up liking him. But the viewers get more insight into who Victor really was before he met Yuuri, who was sad and lonely and hollow — a Victor that fell in love with the boy with the drunken flamenco dance and was looking for an excuse to meet him again.

Victor, like anyone, wants happiness. Winning doesn't give him that anymore, but Yuuri does . . . even though he doesn't even grasp the true gravitas of the love they share.

[Pictured: Yuuri Katsuki, in tears after an amazing Free Skate and the subsequent roar of triumph thereafter; a perfect representation of what we all felt in this scene]

Ultimately, what pissed me off about Episode 12 was that it seemed to betray its own protagonist. We had all the build-up to Yuuri winning gold and finally getting the concrete proof that Victor loves him back and that he is an incredible skater in his own right — because I wholeheartedly believe that the perfect ending to Yuri On Ice would be Yuuri getting gold and realizing that it doesn't matter. And for one moment he would look at all the people who have supported him endlessly and, instead of pushing them away in shame like he would have at the beginning of the show, he would thank them with a happy smile.

How Yuuri would learn not to equate his worth by his losses or wins was always a theme that I wanted the show to address in the Season 2 that I wanted to have, but for that to happen he had to win first in the S1 finale.

But he didn't, and the finale for one of the most popular animes of 2016 was done so cheap that it actually does render the entire anime into moot. So to say I'm disappointed? Yeah, well, that's kind of an understatement.

[Pictured: Yuuri Katsuki with the wrong medal]