#mystic thread designs

[artemisiatridentata]

starting a project I’ve been wanting to do for a while — embroidering over all the logos on my outdoor clothing. I thought borage flowers would go nicely on this blue-green dress :)

[kitkat-the-artist]

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His only line of defense is his walking stick and expired fear toxin, but that doesn’t make Jonathan Crane any less terrifying

(Ft. @mysticmumbles​‘ fanverse Ghoul and Scarecrow) PANELS UNDER THE CUT (+ an unedited version of the final panel)

[mysterystarz]

kiss me maybe:

summary: finding a flier for the volleyball's kissing booth was surprising for two reasons. a) kuroo had created one of the worst fliers known to mankind and b) oikawa tooru, the school's resident pretty boy was capitalizing off the rumors surrounding him. still, you couldn't deny your attraction to the setter, and he couldn't hide that you were the only one he wanted to kiss

pairing: oikawa tooru x g!n reader

word count: 12.6k (please give this a chance)

genres + themes: college!au, sort of friends to lovers(?), fluff, angst, kuroo being an occasional menace, iwaizumi being the sexiest friend you can have, kiyoko being an icon, romanticized college experience, oikawa being an idiot but yours

warnings: cursing, a tad suggestive in some parts, absolutely not proofread

a/n: hi there i am back with a long fic. anyways this thing is my lovechild and probs the most fanfic thing ive written. its really just a fluff monster (lol) and i hope you give this a chance <3 also dedicated to @chimielie because her stuff gave me the inspo to write ily lia thank you for being so talented

It was said that Oikawa Tooru’s kisses were mythical. 

Some claimed that one press of lips from the kingly setter was like a hit of a drug, sudden in a way that sent you reeling. 

To some, his kisses tasted like the finest candy, hand served on an ornate dish. 

Most magically, it was claimed that a kiss from Oikawa Tooru could heal even the most broken of hearts. Just one thread through sun bronzed hair could make you forget about the most painful memories. 

And of course, like any celebrity would, he knew about each and every rumor.

Naturally, you reckoned you were bound to see the dreaded flier sooner or later. It sat there still, taped onto the tiny bulletin board outside of the Organic Chemistry I room. It was the worst godawful flier you’d ever seen in your life. In front of you was a myriad of colorful borders, and even more whimsical fonts atop of a cardstock page. It seemed to call out to you with its boldness, as if to say “kiss me” with its scrawling typography. 

Mystic Kissbooth, it read in an infuriatingly ornate font. Come and kiss your woes away (and kiss ours away too – a mutually beneficial fundraiser!) 

“I see you’ve seen our handiwork,” chuckled a voice. You didn’t have to turn around to recognize Kuroo, who simply leaned against the bulletin board in an attempt to catch your expression. 

Not that he would. You weren’t going to give him that luxury. 

“No wonder it’s such shit,” you laughed, gesturing to the list of names at the bottom, “I’m honestly ashamed to even know you.”

“Hey,” he frowned playfully, ruffling your hair as he began his signature large strides. Curse him and his stupidly long legs. “That was heavily inspired by your Canva templates…..you know….the bad ones.” 

You let out a long and dragged out sigh while you followed your best friend (unfortunately) to one of the secluded benches on campus. Beneath the hustle and bustle of students as they sprinted to class, it was almost peaceful to rest your legs for just a moment. 

Relaxing onto the bench, you placed your backpack at your side, creating a wedge between you and Kuroo, who’d taken the seat right next to you. He didn’t seem to mind, simply casting a grin in your direction. 

For starters, you weren’t sure how to feel about the Canva invasion. Yes, it was a design platform, and yes, you’d tried (and failed sometimes) to create infographics whenever Kuroo needed a helping hand. It was just a tad surprising to discover that Kuroo had drawn his inspiration from your least successful works. 

“What’s this whole thing about?” You decided on asking after a lengthy pause. Kuroo cast his gaze to meet your own, his grin almost glued into place. 

“Well, not that we’re in any trouble, but the volleyball club could use some funds. We’ve been trying to set up some pretty competitive matches and practice games, but we need the fuel to do it. Oikawa thought this was a great way to make use of all the attention we have.”

“No wonder. He’s probably the most popular one on the team….though Iwaizumi is honestly the one to be looking at.” 

“Rude,” Kuroo huffed, “There’s a lot of other people to be interested in, you know.”

“Hopefully you don’t mean yourself,” you chuckled, dodging a playful hit on the arm from Kuroo. “But in all seriousness, a kissing booth?” Kuroo paused for a moment, seemingly mulling over a proper response, when Iwaizumi entered your frame of vision. 

There were times you wondered why Iwaizumi Hajime didn’t consider a career in modeling. From where he stood, the sunlight almost seemed to caress his skin, tanned and sun bronzed from a summer spent playing volleyball on the beach. Upon seeing you and Kuroo on the bench, he extended a quick wave before jogging over, arms flexing as he got closer. 

“Stop ogling him,” Kuroo smirked, “You could stand to be a bit less obvious.” “Shut up,” you muttered just as Iwaizumi ended his jog to stand in front of you. 

“Nice to see you here,” he beamed, his eyes meeting your own, “I barely see you around these days. Did Kuroo scare you away from the club?” “No not at all,” you smiled, moving your backpack to make space for the handsome spiker. Some of the students on the nearby path stopped to turn at the three of you, and Iwaizumi, none-the-wiser, took a swig from his water bottle. 

He was never aware of the effect he had on people. That was exactly what contributed to his charm. 

“Y/N wanted to know a bit more about the booth,” Kuroo started. “I think you’d explain it better than I could.” 

Iwaizumi raised a brow, “It’s just a club fundraiser. I mean, it's the only decent idea that Oikawa’s had in a while.”

“So he really was involved, huh.” You said (more to yourself than anyone else). The two men looked at you confusedly, before Kuroo finally spoke. 

“You know, you always seem to get a bit fidgety whenever someone mentions Oikawa. And you always try to be away from him when you come to our practices…were the two of you involved or something? Because if you were, I am honestly offended you didn’t tell me.” 

You aggressively shook your head no, warranting a chuckle from Iwaizumi. “Well, if they were, I think it’s had an impact. You start to see him for who he really is.” 

The three of you laughed, choosing to enjoy the fresh breeze. 

However, even despite the simple beauty of this moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about the booth.

Oikawa stood at the front of the lecture hall, spinning his pen while meeting the eyes of his teammates. At his side was Kuroo’s flier, whimsically colorful in all the ways a magical kissing booth (like this one) was supposed to be. Iwaizumi sat in the front, close enough for Oikawa to catch the teasingly judgy stares of his best friend while he waited for everyone to settle down. 

Finding a free lecture hall had been no problem. All he’d had to do is smile nicely at a few eager students, verify with a few professors, and send a frantic “MEET NOW” to the club group chat. 

The real problem was convincing the rest of the team of this idea in the first place. 

“Hey guys,” he beamed, putting the flier down on the desk closest to him, “Thanks for showing up on such short notice. You guys are the best.” 

“We didn’t come for you,” Makki snickered. “We’re just here to see what crazy justification you have for this.” “Well,” he began, “We’ve been in the spotlight for quite some time now. A lot of us have been featured in the campus newspaper, we’ve made it onto our university’s podcast, and have you even seen the instagram fanpages for us? They’re absolutely insane. So, what better time to take advantage of this?” 

“And this has nothing to do at all with the rumors?” A voice asked. Oikawa turned to meet the eyes of Semi Eita, who sat on the left corner closest to the door. 

The team laughed as Oikawa shook his head in faux denial. “Absolutely not. Why would I ever do such a thing?” 

“Because you're smart!” Oikawa was almost surprised to hear the remark from Bokuto, who sat near Kuroo with his own flier. “And it’s a lot of fun.” 

The team murmured their respective agreements before the room fell silent again. Oikawa, ever the opportunist, slid into the silence with an explanation. 

“I was thinking we set it up as sort of a de-stress day after midterms. We could get the other clubs to join in their own mini fundraisers…like a carnival of sorts. We’ll set up the booth with colorful signs and posters, and we kiss based on the cash. We can take shifts to make sure the two of us aren’t running the whole show. All proceeds are for our matches and practice games. Sounds good?” “A question. Are you going to make people line up to kiss you?” Matsukawa asked casually. 

“You mean us Mattsun. And yeah, a line works just fine.” Oikawa stopped for a moment to admire the unanimous cooperation of his team. “I’ll talk to the other club leaders and see if we can come up with a date. If that’s all the questions you’ve got, I’ll see you at practice tomorrow!” 

With this, his team filed out the door. He caught Kuroo animatedly discussing a design to attract customers to their booth with Bokuto, mentioning that he had a friend who’d know just what to do about it. In the midst of his rant, he’d mentioned a name. 

Yours. A name he hadn’t realized he missed hearing. 

A faint smile crept onto his face at the thought.

Kuroo was a menace. From the minute he’d found you at the library, he’d been nagging you the entire day, practically begging for you to come to their practice. 

“Y/N please,” he whined, attempting his own version of a pout, “If you see us, you could help design the poster to attract customers.” “I don’t think you need help with that.” That much was true. Especially with Oikawa headlining the event. They were guaranteed strong profits. 

Somehow in the midst of all this pleading, you’d ended up right outside the gym. The sounds of volleyballs hitting the wooden floors resonated off the walls, the sound so clear that you could hear it from your spot near the door. 

“You planned this,” you glared, watching Kuroo’s smile twist into one of faux innocence. Bastard.  

“What can I say? I am the master of distraction.” He opened the door, swapping his shoes out at the front and walking into the gym to the greetings of his team. You followed closely behind him, carefully striding across the polished wood and shutting the door behind you. 

The gym had always been grand. Your university’s colors were plastered onto the bleachers, with a wide curtain separating the different sides of the gym. There was space – so much of it – and the team spread out to practice various skills. 

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself the childish awe of standing in a space so big. 

“I forgot how long it’s been since you’ve been here,” a voice greeted, “But it’s good to see you Y/N.” You knew that voice. You’d know that voice like the moon knew the stars. You’d know it anywhere. 

“Oikawa,” you said, turning to acknowledge the brown-haired setter. “Long time no see.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you drank him in. He seemed to be in high spirits this afternoon, hair artfully tousled in the way he always did, and lips so perfectly smooth that they seemed out of a Chapstick ad. 

“You don’t really come around anymore,” He said, taking to walking with you around the gym (much to your own surprise). “I was getting a bit worried actually.” 

“What do you mean?” You stared at a spot a bit beyond the setter, watching Bokuto’s cross court spike slam into the floor with dizzying speed. 

“Well….we talked a bunch. And you came here at the beginning of the year. You suddenly stopped though….so I wondered if something happened.” 

“You noticed?” You scoffed. “I’m surprised you paid attention.” 

“Why wouldn’t I pay attention?” Oikawa raised a brow in confusion before suddenly, the answer seemed to smack him in the face. “You’re petty about that?”

“You barely paid me any mind,” was all you said, meeting Oikawa’s warm gaze, “It was like we’d never met at all.”

You’d met Oikawa Tooru on the flight to university. You’d waved your family goodbye at the gate, hugging them tight to your chest and memorizing the feel of them against you. 

You walked steadily, pulling your suitcase along as you made your way to the security check in. 

“Everything goes in a bag! Belts, shoes, phones! Take off your shoes and step aside. Laptops can stay in your bags! Move along!” 

You hauled your suitcase into the bin, placed your phone and wallet beside it and sent it over to the TSA associate, taking a minute to place your jacket and shoes into another bin and sending that over too. 

The gray bins were plain, old and rackety and classic, comparable to a washed out 1930’s movie. You trodded through the metal detector, feeling the cold floor through your socks. 

When you finally made it through check in, you were met with a TSA associate over your bag, looking straight at you as if you’d committed some heinous crime. 

“Excuse me,” the TSA officer asked, gesturing to your bags, “Are these your bags?” 

“Yes,” you affirmed, almost nervously. “Is there an issue?” 

“You seem to have some liquid above the restricted amount. I’m going to have to take a look.” 

For a moment, you were startled. What did you even bring? You’d diligently packed your belongings and made sure everything was secure….surely there had to be some mistake. 

Your breath wavered the minute the officer pulled out your favorite body wash. 

In the midst of your packing, you’d forgotten you’d slipped it into your carry on. 

“Oh.” Your voice shook as you meant the TSA officer’s eyes, “I’m sorry. That’s my favorite one.” 

“I’m sorry.” For a moment, it almost seemed like the man had sympathy for you, “But I’m going to have to ask you to pour half of it out. If you refuse that, you’re going to have to give it away.” 

Every step towards the outside garbage felt like a punch to the chest. While you kept composed on the outside, pouring away half of your prized wash felt miserable. 

A dying rose. A dying star. Something dying slowly and surely inside. 

Now you’d have to get another one. Brand new packaging lost to your honest mistake. 

This sucked ass. 

You meandered through the security area again, more ghost than person and collected the rest of your belongings. While your voice wavered, you didn’t shed a tear, and simply walked along. 

Somehow, in the midst of all your wandering,  you ended up in the departure lounge. In front of you were an array of connected seats with their generic cushioning and the customary TV screens telling you what flight was taking off when. 

The glass paneled windows to your right showcased the hangar, and from your spot, you could see planes parked out in front. The sun set down in the distance, leaving a watercolor blend of pinks and oranges in its wake. 

You could almost call it picturesque. 

You leaned your suitcase against a wall for a moment, scanning the lounge for an available corner. Unfortunately, your plane was packed. 

The chatter of students was overwhelming, and without a choice, you settled into a seat at the far corner of the lounge next to a pretty-boy who you were certain wouldn't speak to you. 

They normally never did. Why should it be any different now? And honestly, you didn’t want to talk. 

“This plane is probably fully booked.” A voice (the perfect blend of warm and deep) said. You turned to meet the eyes of said pretty boy, a surprisingly lovely shade of brown. Light and bright and inviting. Almost like a mocha. Or a latte. 

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, slightly amused by the novelty of the situation. It wasn’t common for pretty boys to talk to you. Even less common for you to entertain any conversation, especially when you felt the way you did.  “When I waved ‘goodbye’ to my family, I wasn’t expecting this much of a crowd to tell them about.” 

“Yeah?” Oikawa smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards invitingly. “I was more surprised at the lack of seats.” 

“You’d think they’d anticipate a college student stampede.” 

Oikawa laughed, the amusement lighting up his whole face. It was a simple laugh — chiming and lovely in the way that all laughs were, but you were certain you’d do anything to hear that again. 

His presence had a way of putting you at ease. 

The two of you coincidentally had seats right next to each other on the flight. As the plane lifted off, you snapped a picture of the city lights, twinkling their tiny goodbyes as they faded from view.

The cabin’s lights were dimmed, yet even in the haziness, you could make out the features of the boy next to you. 

High cheekbones. A defined cupid’s bow. Lips that seemed even softer than the lather of that soap you loved so much. 

You’d mourn your soap later. Even if it was an object, your attachment to it simply showed a care for your belongings. 

What could be more human than that? 

Oikawa turned to you, gaze friendly as the plane began its mounting ascent. 

“You know, the TSA can be real dicks sometimes.” 

What the fuck. Who was he? A psychic?

“What did they do to you?”

“They made me pour out half my expensive hair gel. I insisted it fit the requirements but they refused to accommodate me. So mean.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at the pout he wore. It seemed even someone as vivacious as Oikawa couldn’t charm himself out of aviation regulations. 

Somehow the whole thing made you feel a lot better. 

You and Oikawa (Tooru as he later insisted) shared many conversations throughout the flight. Some revolved around human existentialism (with him quoting the “we were infinite” from The Perks of Being a Wallflower). Some revolved around space. 

Some even revolved around clubs, with him sharing high school volleyball stories and pledging your university’s team to greatness. 

When fatigue finally claimed you, the comfort of his shoulder was unmatched by anything you’d ever felt. He’d extended an invite for you to come and see them practice anytime, and laid his own head atop of yours. 

Of course, when you showed up for said practice, so had a bunch of other fans. He’d barely spared you a glance, let alone spoke to you when you’d tried to seek him out. 

A grand gym and an even grander boy. 

You just avoided him after that.

“Im really sorry about that,” Oikawa said. While his expressions were genuine, you weren’t sure how much you were going to trust it. Certainly, in all the time you’d spent apart, he must have changed at least a bit. 

To think he was the exact same boy who you met on the plane would be foolish.

“Yeah, water under the bridge.” 

“No, not really.” Oikawa paused to study your expression. Beneath all of your nonchalance was something fragile. Admiration? Loathing? He doubted it. “How long did you plan on avoiding me?”

“As long as I needed to.” You answered matter-of-factly. “Then again, that was when I thought you’d forgotten about me.” 

“How could I ever do that?” Oikawa’s expression morphed into a worried one, eyebrows knitted together and mouth downturned as if to say damn that’s an accusation. 

“Well-“

“Look I meant to seek you out after that day. I saw you there, wanted to come over, but at that point you’d gone off to continue chatting with Kuroo and met Iwa. And classes exist.”

“Okay. Water under the bridge for real.” 

His eyes lit up. “You mean it?” 

You nodded in approval, only to be dragged away by Kuroo, who’d suddenly appeared behind you. 

“What the fuck?” You yelled, not caring much for your use of profanities. Some of the nearby team members snickered as you were pulled to the corner of the gym, in front of an array of poster boards. 

“What?” Kuroo asked, “You and Oikawa seem to be fine now, so I thought I could ask you some questions about stuff that really matters. Namely posters.” 

You were met with various shapes and sizes of poster boards. Some were Elmers Tri-Folds. Some were the cheap foam boards you sometimes saw while grocery shopping. 

“If you want a design for your freaking booth,” you began, looking at Kuroo, “Give me some time.”

Oikawa was in the podcast studio. The room was secluded, plastered with posters and heart decals of all shapes and colors. Right beside the door was a framed picture of the volleyball team, with their silly faces frozen in motion. 

Shimizu Kiyoko walked out from behind the desk, nonchalantly acknowledging Oikawa with a nod. “Oikawa, what can I do for you?” 

“Hey,” he winked, unaffected by her lack of reaction, “Have any idea where I can find your host. I’d like her to do me a favor.”

“Advertising.” Kiyoko said bluntly. “I don’t think your booth needs any more attention. Our socials have covered it already.” 

“We always love the extra coverage.” 

“Doesn’t your friend help with all the designs? I think they’d be the perfect candidate to help with all this.”

“Y/N?” He asked, almost dumbfounded by how obvious that answer was. 

“Yes,” Kiyoko smiled. “They’re very nice. I’ve seen you talk a few times, though it honestly seems like they don’t like you very much.” 

“Not true.” He huffed. 

“Well it makes sense. Especially if the rumors are true.” 

People saw Kiyoko’s beauty and shyness and mistook her for a soft and innocent podcast manager. 

Anyone who’d dealt with her enough knew she was actually a force to be reckoned with. 

“The rumors are whatever you make of them. I’m simply an opportunist.” 

Kiyoko chuckled and for a moment, Oikawa felt accomplished. “You don’t need to tell me this. I already know.” 

He leaned against the door, and stretched out his arms in front of him before resting them at his sides again. “Would you at least consider telling the main host to help us out?” 

Kiyoko shuffled the papers in her hands, before meeting his eyes. “I won’t give any guarantees, but something tells me that if you do set up a de-stress carnival, your club will be the central focus of our broadcast.” 

“Thank you!” He beamed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “I could kiss you for that.”

“No thank you,” Kiyoko declined, “I’m not interested in confirming the rumors.” 

As Oikawa left the studio, Kiyoko walked into the recording room, a tiny smile on her lips.

Your Canva page lay woefully blank before you.

You’d promised Kuroo a design if he gave you time and Kuroo, ever the considerate friend, actually stopped bothering you about the poster. He seemed to trust in Oikawa’s judgment, and it seemed that the rest of the volleyball club did too. 

As a token of thanks, you’d come to the library, your brain and Pinterest providing you at least a vague idea of what it was you wanted to do. However, when it came time to put pen to paper (or more fittingly, hand to mousepad), it seemed that your ideas had been wiped clean. 

Your disappointment felt like a leaky faucet. Despite the minuteness of the feeling, it seemed to pool the more you thought about the situation. While designing was never an obligation, you owed it to your friends. 

You sighed, placing your bag onto the hardwood library table and casting your eyes outside. A slowly setting sun was what greeted you, a medley of pinks and oranges appearing onto a slowly disappearing blue sky. 

How cliche. Considering one's disappointments next to a sunset. 

“Y/N?” A voice called, almost saccharine in the silence of your surroundings. 

And there he was. Draped in the setting sun like a painted figure, cloaked in a veil of sunlight that skimmed his skin like silk. Oikawa’s eyes were almost honey colored in that lighting, and beneath the darkened shelves, he was almost a mystical apparition. 

“Oikawa,” was all you said, cursing every possible force for him appearing now, looking like that, when you barely had anything to show for it. 

“Kuroo told me you’d offered to help us put together some signs for the de-stress carnival.” Oikawa walked over, stepping away from the sunlight and placing his bag down at your table, opting for a seat across from you. “Which, in case you were wondering, I got approval for. A lot of the other clubs are going to be there.” 

“That’s good.” You allowed yourself a glance at him. Your pettiness had all but dissipated, but you were still wary of looking at him for too long. He was like the sun, golden and lustrous and magnetic. You weren’t quite ready to be pulled into his orbit. 

“So,” Oikawa said, taking a glance at your computer screen, “Rough designing?” 

“Yeah. Inspiration has been hard to find and your club is counting on me.” 

“If it means anything to you, we wouldn’t have asked for you to do it if we didn’t believe in you.” You looked up to see Oikawa’s gaze set firmly on your own, as if tracking your expressions. Under his stare, you felt raw. Vulnerable. If you were a cake, and he was cutting you open. 

You weren’t sure what to say. 

A beat of silence permeated the space between you, and the two of you made no effort to stop it. It was somewhat comforting. Unsaid words of yours were understood by him.

“It feels like a lot of pressure,” you finally admitted, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “I want it to be worth your while.” 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Oikawa was closer. His breath was soft, fanning over the side of your cheek like a secret. 

“I’m not sure.” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper. 

Oikawa paused for a moment, as if contemplating something before decisively placing his hand on top of yours.

For a moment, you were startled by the warmth of his palm, grounding you in some way that didn’t quite make sense to you yet. Something about this was intimate in all the ways it shouldn’t be. Amidst a darkening sky and a slowly dimming library, you could almost consider this clandestine. 

You waited for the rustle of a book’s pages or the resounding footsteps of the librarian to break down the moment, but they never came.  

Oikawa looked at you, seemingly memorizing your features. He said nothing, but a slight smile appeared on his face the second he spotted a stray lock of hair by your ear. You could feel your face progressively heating with every moment spent in this proximity. 

Damn celebrity setters. Damn stupid stupid beautiful men who do this. Damn that Oikawa Tooru. 

Gently, as if touching something fragile, Oikawa smoothed down your hair, brushing the tip of your ear with his fingertips. He held your gaze fondly before suddenly, making an incredulous face. 

“What the-“ He said, looking at your hair again. “It’s back up again.” He looked at his hands in horror, as if their magic didn’t work. “Damn it, that’s not how that goes.” 

You couldn’t stop the laughter from erupting out of you at his antics, You swiftly flattened that pesky strand and looked back at him, feeling the amusement pool in your chest at his dismayed expression. 

“Sorry man,” you laughed, syllables coming out breathless, “Sometimes stuff doesn’t go to plan.” 

Oikawa seemed like he wanted to melt into the floor, and feeling the need for some fresh air, you dragged him out of the library. Upon leaving the double doors (and air conditioning), you were met by the lit sidewalk and found the wooden benches by the line of trees. 

You sat down, gesturing for him to join you. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this one before,” Oikawa mentioned off-handedly, “I mean I’m here a lot, but I’m not sure when this was put here.” 

“It’s been here…?” 

Oikawa sighed, tilting his gaze to the now dark sky. “You do have an eye for good things.” 

You raised a brow. “What does that even mean?” 

“The stuff you make is adorable. And Kuroo’s always said that everywhere he brings us are all places you found.” 

“Really?” You leaned your upper body onto the bench. “I didn’t expect credit from him.” 

“He cares about you,” Oikawa said. “He gave a lot of shit when he realized that we’d talked on our plane and then not again. But I deserved that.” 

“I was petty. But it’s not like I can actually walk up to you.” 

“What?” Oikawa seemed puzzled, as if this was something impossible for him to fathom. “Why not? I don’t think I’m that bad.” 

“Iwaizumi says otherwise.” 

“Mean. But seriously, why?” 

You’d forgotten how refreshing Oikawa was. Even though you were sitting on a bench, you felt practically weightless. 

“Rumors,” was all you said, gesturing to him. 

Understanding seemed to flash into his eyes, and slowly, like connecting pieces of a puzzle, it all fell into place. He paused for a moment before meeting your eyes with a grin. 

“You know they’re just rumors right?” He smirked, “I went to a party a while back to kick off club season. There was this one girl who really wasn’t leaving me alone, so I ended up leaving. Turns out she’d told her friends that she and I made out at the party and gave me a whole lot more credit than I was expecting. Not that I mind making out, but I’m picky.” 

“Picky how?” You asked, words leaving your mouth before you even had the chance to think them over. 

“Picky as in there’s really only one person I’ve even wanted to kiss since I got here but haven’t got the chance to. I’m hoping they come to the booth. Just so I’ll get to know what that’s like.” 

You felt a subtle twist of something in your chest, though you weren’t sure what to make of it. Of course he had his eye on somebody. It was bound to happen eventually. 

“Why are you making a booth to do mass kissing then?” A valid follow up question. A guy like him could successfully pull whenever he wanted to. 

“Because I’m an opportunist,” he sighed, “And I’m not even sure if I can make a move properly. I don’t function like I normally do when they’re around.” 

“Of course you can. Anybody would say yes to you, Tooru.” 

With this, something in him seemed to snap and he immediately pulled you closer, your faces just an inch apart. His hands were firm around your waist, and the sensation was nearly searing. You could feel everything, from his hands to his breath to even the way his eyes seemed to scan your face. 

The way he looked at you now was like worship. 

“What are you doing?” You whispered shakily. With him all around you you could barely breathe, let alone think. 

“Making a move.” His eyes were on your lips. His hand gently left your waist to skim your arm before placing a hand on your cheek. “May I?” 

Your nod was nearly imperceptible before he captured your lips in yours. 

Soft, was your first thought as you felt his lips brush yours ever so lightly. You leaned into him, relishing the vaguely sweet taste of strawberry Chapstick on his lips as you swiped your tongue over his lips. 

Oikawa Tooru was a mystic. His fingers tangled in your hair and his lips searched for yours as if he was a lost man and you were his savior. He traced the curve of your waist and kissed you passionately, nibbling your lips when you pulled at his shirt. 

You could kiss him forever. You moved to nip at the tip of his ear, and his shaky breath had you considering if you should bite down harder. He pulled you back in and you melted into the feel of his lips and hands and the way his touch seemed to awaken something inside you. 

The way he held you was reverent. 

When you finally split for air, Oikawa held you close, his smile never wavering. He rubbed a thumb across your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

“That was magical,” you murmured into his shirt, and you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit happy to hear the laugh you liked so much. 

You reckoned you’d be able to put together a solid design after tonight.

Oikawa had a skip in his step the following morning. He’d aced every assessment, finished all his homework, and made major breakthroughs at practice. His sets to Bokuto were so flawless that Bokuto could hardly believe he’d made those shots. 

Everyone on the volleyball team was certain that something had happened, but Oikawa refused to let up. 

He didn’t kiss and tell after all. 

“What is up with you?” Iwaizumi asked good-naturedly, tipping back a water bottle. “You’ve been in a surprisingly good mood all morning.” 

“It’s been a good day,” Oikawa smiled, offering no other details while picking up a few stray balls on the court. The gym floor seemed exceptionally shiny today. He’d be sure to thank whoever waxed the floor for their services when he could. 

“Something definitely happened.” Kuroo chimed in, scrutinizing Oikawa like he was something under a microscope. “The question is what.” 

“Am I not allowed to have good days?” 

“No you are,” Kuroo smirked, “But a day this good only happens after a sudden surge in popularity which —last time I checked— didn’t happen, or……did you make some breakthrough?” 

“With my sets, yes.” 

“No,” Kuroo smiled knowingly. “I’m gonna curse them out for not telling me anything.” 

Oikawa hid his surprise with a flash of indifference, though internally he cursed the middle blocker. It seemed that he was just as good at reading people as he was at read blocking. 

Iwaizumi caught on almost immediately, casting his eyes to his longtime friend, who all of a sudden, was acting like a deer in headlights. He found it odd that the nature of your relationship with Oikawa had transformed seemingly overnight. 

It seemed that you never truly harbored any resentment against him. 

Still, he resolved to approach you about it as soon as he could. 

The minute that you walked through the gym’s double doors, the entire team thought that they’d summoned you with all the prying they were doing. You hauled something large through the door and placed it against the wall, proud of yourself for the herculean effort it took to bring it through. 

The minute he registered your presence, Oikawa’s face looked like a puff of cotton candy. His cheeks were rosy with all the teasing and the memories of last night, and when he saw what it was that you’d leaned against the wall, he thought he should run over and kiss you out of pride. 

“Good morning guys,” you beamed, a smile so radiant that Oikawa had suddenly lost all the focus he’d had all morning. 

“Morning Y/N,” Iwaizumi greeted, walking over to greet you with a hug and a slight gesture to the object that was now leaning against the wall. “Is this it?” 

You nodded excitedly. “I got the inspiration to put it together last night. I think it captures the magic of the booth.” 

Iwaizumi leaned to flip over the posterboard and decided that he’d never seen anything more fitting in his entire life. 

The sign was a pastel wonder, a pale blue at the bottom and moving to a light pink at the top. Across the poster were small and light volleyballs, somewhat transparent against the background as if the pattern was a part of it. The borders of the poster were filled with various lip prints (and even funnier, some hidden Chapsticks).

The font at the center was a far cry from the scrawling archaic font that Kuroo had used on their initial flyers. It was a simple block font, a shade of pink with a glow filter and a pattern that made it look like a light-up sign on the part that really mattered.

The Volleyball Club presents, the poster read, written in a smaller font. Right below that, the light up letters spelled out The Mystic Kissbooth. Help kiss us to greatness. 

The team crowded around the board, marveling at both its quality and its thoughtfulness. 

“Y/N….” Bokuto trailed off, his eyes nearly bursting with amazement, “This is crazy!” 

“Yeah,” Semi added, “This is ridiculously good. Kuroo, where the hell have you been keeping them.” 

Kuroo simply crossed his arms and smiled with pride. He’d always believed in you. 

Oikawa stood shell-shocked at your work, feeling all the days of preparation finally coming together. He looked at you and smiled a smile so genuine, you were glad you’d finally pulled through. 

You looked to the floor bashfully for a moment before meeting the team’s eyes with renewed confidence. “Thank you. I’m glad to help.” 

Iwaizumi stood at your side, smiling fondly at you before turning his gaze to Oikawa. “Hey. Oikawa. What is the deal with the de-stress carnival? When is it, where is it, and where are we setting up?” 

Oikawa, still elated, looked around the gym at the team. “If you want details, I think we should call another meeting.” 

”That is a great idea,” you chimed in. 

“Wanna join?” Oikawa asked (hopefully). 

”I’m sorry, I don’t think I can. I’ve got a date with Kiyoko.” 

The team went silent. “You have a what?!”

The evening hues only made Kiyoko more beautiful. She was dressed casually, wearing classic blue jeans, a tank top, and a cardigan that only accentuated her figure. When she saw you approaching her, a smile appeared on her face instantaneously. 

“Y/N!” She greeted, “It’s good to see you.” 

You jogged up to her and pulled her into a friendly hug. “It’s good to see you too!”

You and Kiyoko fell into step naturally, opting to have dinner at one of your favorite places outside of campus. It was a quick walk from where you’d chosen to meet up, and in such good weather, it was a crime not to spend more time together. 

“I have a lot to tell you about,” Kiyoko began, “Starting with Oikawa Tooru. He showed up in my room and asked for the host. He’s got to know it’s me right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I know you use a modulator to stay under wraps so people take the podcast seriously, but he’s had a very good track record for being perceptive.” 

“That’s a pain” she sighed, “I hope he’s not going to spread it around.” 

“He won’t,” you assured her, “Oikawa can understand rumors better than anyone.” 

Kiyoko smiled relievedly, though she raised a brow at the mention of rumors. “Are those true?” 

You fought the heat that seemed to emerge onto your face the minute she mentioned that. You just hoped it would go unnoticed by her. 

Her blue eyes, unfortunately, were just as perceptive as they were pretty. 

She smirked, crossing her arms and stopping on the sidewalk path. “When did that happen?” 

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep walking.” You wish your voice had come out more strongly than a murmur. 

“When?” 

“Last night.” Damn Kiyoko for getting answers out of you. 

“And…?” She raised her brows expectantly. 

“Rumors are baseless but I confirm them. He is magical.” 

“I ought to say something about that,” she giggled, and you wanted to bury yourself into your hands to avoid her teasing. 

“Shush.” 

The two of you had a lovely dinner and opted to grab a quick drink from the speciality beverage store next door. Kiyoko grabbed a strawberry milkshake and you opted for a tropical fruit floater that they’d just created. Thanks to Kiyoko, both drinks were on the house. 

She nursed the straw between her lips and took a drag of her milkshake before meeting your eyes. “I have some information on the de-stress carnival.” 

You urged her to continue, and Kiyoko did. 

“Looks like Oikawa and the other members of clubs decided to officially name it the Cool Down Carnival. They’re just going to refer to it as Cool Down for ease. They’re planning to organize it the Saturday after midterms and they’ve been working on concessions like cotton candy, caramel apples, popcorn, and a whole boatload of stuff. Administration is also totally fine with this.” 

“Wow,” was all you could say as a response. You were honestly impressed with Oikawa. He put so much thought and care into a silly rumor that had transformed into one of the school’s biggest upcoming events. He was an alchemist of opportunities, taking a rumor of lead and transforming it to gold. 

“Yeah,” Kiyoko nodded, “I’ll get social media to cover it for me. So far, nobody doubts that I’m the manager of the ‘Cast, so it should be fairly reasonable for me to do.” 

“Out of curiosity, do you know anything about how they’re planning to do the shifts of the booth?” 

“All I know for certain is that Oikawa said he probably wasn’t gonna do a headlining shift…or a shift at all. A lot of the other members were perfectly fine with taking this on, but there has been some backlash.” 

He was planning on not headlining the booth?

Your heart was suddenly very warm and fuzzy in your chest. 

Kiyoko knowingly smiled at you before tipping at the front register and dragging you outside. The breeze was oddly pleasant, something a bit uncommon for this time of year. It was approaching colder weather, but it felt nearly spring-like. 

“The weather isn’t making sense,” you said, enjoying the feeling of freedom that came with nighttime out. 

“It hasn’t been making sense,” Kiyoko smiled, “We’re anticipating a fresh fair.” 

Springs and falls blended together. You found a beautiful leaf on the sidewalk and pressed it to your palm, preserving the feel and look in your memory. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” you’d finally tell Kiyoko as you parted ways, meaning each and every word.

When Oikawa had showed up at your doorstep in the morning, your sleep-addled brain could barely fathom the reason as to why he would do such a thing. 

That was, until he walked into your room carrying breakfast in a brown bag. 

“Good morning Y/N.” He said, voice still slightly raspy from a good night of sleep. (You weren’t going to forget how that sounded forever). 

You greeted him with a morning greeting of your own and sat on your bed, stretching your limbs and analyzing the boy who—at this present moment—seemed like the happiest guy on earth. 

“Feel free to help yourself,” Oikawa grinned, grabbing a bagel and a pack of cream cheese from the bag. “I have some updates for you.” 

“Does it have to do with the Cool Down?” You walked over to the bag and grabbed something you liked from the inside. 

“Wow. How did you know about the name?” 

“I have my sources,” you winked. 

Oikawa simply laughed. “I know it’s Kiyoko dumbass. She’s one of the sneakiest podcast hosts of all time.” 

“So you do know.” 

“Obviously.” Oikawa lounged on the chair in your corner. “Nobody else is ever working in that office. She should get some people to join her.” 

You nodded and shifted to sit next to him on the couch. His warmth was a surprisingly pleasant addition into the morning, and you found yourself leaning into him. He didn’t make any move to stop it, opting to pull you in and place his arm over you. 

“We have classes soon,” you said groggily, “But I don’t want to move.” 

“We don’t have to right now.” 

“Thanks Tooru.” 

“Of course, Y/N.” He smiled. “Though we do have an afternoon meeting on how to divide the shifts. I’m not sure what we’re going to be doing about me.” 

You suddenly felt a lot more awake. You shifted your weight onto your unsupported arm and looked up at Oikawa. “Are you planning to take a shift?” 

Oikawa shifted nervously in his seat. “I’m not sure. I may have to for the sake of demand. Everyone is expecting me to live up to the expectation. I think we would be less successful without my involvement.” 

You felt a twist of something. Not jealously, but not comfort either. Something between the two. You rose away from Oikawa, walking over to the opposite side of the room where your bed was and met his eyes. 

“Do you really have to?” you asked, feeling partially unfair. There was nothing official between the two of you at the moment, but you’d thought after the kiss two nights ago…..you thought you had a chance. 

“I might,” he gulped, “But you know you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to kiss.” 

You sighed exasperatedly. “I know that you came up with this as a business opportunity and because you thought we’d never…get anywhere, but a long shift is going to be a lot of people.” 

“I know,” he sighed, meeting your eyes with an expression in his own that looked a lot like sadness. “But the fundraiser might just have to come first for now— no that’s not what I—“ 

“Please leave,” you said, voice wavering a bit, “I don’t want to deal with the whole priorities thing right now. We can say we kissed once for fun. Headline it if you must. Later Oikawa.” 

You turned away from him and walked towards your closet to find appropriate clothes for the day. You couldn’t even stand to look at him right now. Things would become too complicated for you to handle. 

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” Oikawa said from behind you, “That is genuinely not what I meant.” 

You turned to face him again, not even able to meet his eyes. “There’s got to be some semblance of truth in what you said earlier. You love your team Oikawa. They are important. I don’t expect you to throw away opportunities for me. We’re not even dating.” You laughed dryly. “I’d like a bit of space. We can talk a bit later.” 

Oikawa seemed like he had a lot more to say, but he wordlessly slipped out of the door, leaving your room noticeably empty. 

Once he’d left for certain, you collapsed onto the floor and let loose the dam of tears you’d held in for so long.

When Iwaizumi found you in the library, he knew immediately that something was wrong. Your eyes were reddened ever so slightly, covered over by a splash of cold water to the face (most likely), and your usual cheerfulness when you greeted him was a lot less lively. 

He took the seat beside you, surprised by your lack of response. 

”Hajime,” you said softly, turning over to smile sadly at him, “Good to see you here.” 

Correction: something was horrifically wrong. 

“What happened?” He asked softly, wondering what was enough to dampen your normally resilient spirit.  

“Fucking Oikawa,” you laughed sarcastically, “Look at me saying I’d never get caught up in his web, and then doing exactly that.” 

Iwaizumi wrinkled his brow. That day on the bench, he’d known enough to discern that you and Oikawa had some sort of history. That much continued to be made obvious by Oikawa’s constant urge to see you and include you in everything that he and Kuroo didn’t think was important enough to invite you to. 

However, he wasn’t sure when you and Oikawa became more than a past set of acquaintances….and that stung a little. He understood your reasoning though. Especially if it was as complicated as you seemed to feel at the moment. 

“Were you guys dating?”

“No.” You turned to face him in full, and he was struck by the magnitude of just how magnetic you were. Iwaizumi was guilty of being stuck in your orbit. “Just a kiss. Because he sweet talked me into thinking he wanted something.”

“Knowing him, he probably did.” Iwaizumi said, “Oikawa has a tendency to be obsessive to get what he wants, but also be blinded by obligations. This was definitely about him headlining the booth, right?” 

You nodded, feeling a sudden tightness in your throat at the thought. You weren’t ready to confront the morning’s events quite yet. 

“That dumbass,” Iwaizumi groaned, “If he’d told us that he liked you and had actually managed to make a move we would’ve gladly taken his shift! Who gives a fuck about what the college body wants? Half of them thirst over everyone!” You laughed a bit at the truth of that statement. “Yeah, and Kiyoko told me she was also planning on making a little appearance.” 

At this Iwaizumi raised his brow. “Oh that’s about to be carnage.” 

“Absolutely,” you giggled, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be the lucky person.” Iwaizumi laughed, a sound that was low and sweet and comforting. “I think I’ll leave it to some of the other boys. They deserve a chance after all.” 

The two of you grinned at the mental imagery of the team fighting for a chance to interact with your beautiful friend, and suddenly, Oikawa’s shittiness seemed like something far less relevant. 

Still, even with the humor of the situation came the very uncomfortable realization that you and Oikawa–-whatever you were–-were done if you didn’t come to some consensus. 

You shoved your hands into your face, wondering how the hell you’d managed to go from avoidant and unattached to too attached. Maybe the rumors had some merit. A kiss from Oikawa was all that it took to get so jumbled. 

Iwaizumi’s warm palm on your back was what brought you back to your senses. He rubbed his slow circles and sat there patiently until you emerged from your cover of shame. 

“What am I going to do?” you asked, voice raw and vulnerable and everything you’d rather it not have been. 

“Whatever you want to do.” Iwaizumi’s gaze was genuine, soft eyes studying you. “You’re entitled to your own decisions. Kuroo and I would never ditch you for Shitty you know.” 

“It’s for the team,” you whispered, feeling tears threatening to spill over your cheeks. Your vision was hazy, and you blinked slowly to clear the water from your eyes. “So then why do I feel like this?” 

“Because you care about him, Y/N.” Iwaizumi squeezed your shoulder affectionately, “You and him clearly bonded on some intergalactic level, so having that be suddenly shattered in favor of something seemingly less important is going to feel like shit. In fact, he is the real piece of crap here.” “The team matters.” “The team is all about relationships.” Iwaizumi said firmly. “I have a hunch there’s someone in this tournament that he needs to beat. That’s why he’s been obsessively orchestrating the perfect way to raise money to have a practice match beforehand. Still, I won’t deny it. Oikawa is an idiot for doing this to you. You have all the rights to move on with your life.” 

“I think I’m gonna take my space from him for a few days,” you eventually responded. “I think I’ll also not visit the booth. I’ll give Kuroo the sign in advance so he can help with setting up?” 

Iwaizumi nodded solemnly. “If that’s what you need to do, I’ll be your number one supporter. I’d still love it if you could stop by though. We love having you around.” 

You nodded at him. “I’ll be there for you and Kuroo. Always. And you guys can hang out with me at the Cool Down when you’re off shift.” 

“Of course,” Iwaizumi smiled, “For you? Anything.”

“How do you say, ‘I’m angry’ in French?” The ping of the recording microphone tapped on as Oikawa paced quickly around his room. 

“Je suis fâché.” 

“How do you say, ‘I like to go out with my friends’ in French?” “J’aime sortir avec mes amis.” 

“How do you say, ‘I went to my friend’s house’ in French?” 

“Je ne veux pas continuer.” 

“Oui Monsieur. À Bientôt!” His phone’s recording feature switched off, leaving him in a silent room once again. 

He was regretful, so much so that he paced around in his room in the hopes that it would give him some sort of clarity. As much as he wanted to approach you, he knew you weren’t ready to talk to him right now. 

“Shittykawa,” he heard from his door, opening with a subtlety and closing with a bang. Classic Iwa move. 

He turned to face his best friend, who at this moment, seemed to be quite irritated with him. He could feel the lecture as certain as one could feel a thunderstorm in the air. 

Iwaizumi stood, arms crossed in Oikawa’s room, leaning against the wall and pinning him with a look so strong it might as well have been a thumbtack. Oikawa felt rooted in place, and all the words he initially planned on saying left his mouth. 

“So Ushijima Wakatoshi happens to be at a school just a bit over,” Iwa started, “I did my research. Why not play a practice match with them to start to see their setting style? Break down their setter, practice receiving from a left-handed person, and maybe we can beat him, right?” 

Oikawa sighed, feeling all the fight leave his body. He made his way over to his pale blue rug and sat down. “I know. It’s ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is what you did to Y/N.” Iwaizumi glared at him. “If you’d said something about liking them and actually successfully getting them to like you, then we would’ve been perfectly capable of handling the shifts. Hell, even Kiyoko is coming. That alone will give people incentive to come and kiss us.” 

“I made a mistake,” Oikawa cringed. He didn’t even want to think about the morning. What was intended to be a romantic gesture ended up being a horrible memory. His attempts to distract himself were futile, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Iwaizumi had found you. “But they probably don’t want to talk to me.” 

Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa sadly. “They’re planning on skipping the booth. They’ve already decided to give their poster to Kuroo so he can help us with set-up. So don’t plan on seeing them.” 

He grimaced. “Not coming? Really?” 

Iwaizumi nodded. “I was pretty unhappy about it, but we’ve got to give them space to process everything.” The minute you’d smiled at him in the airport, talking about “college stampedes,” Oikawa knew he wanted nothing more but to know you better. He’d thanked every lucky star for the seats you had next to each other and relished every moment spent with you. 

He wondered why you avoided him for the next months, always daydreaming about what he’d say to you when you finally reappeared at practices. He’d searched for you in your classes, but he always missed you. 

When you walked into the gym on that fateful day, he thought he had a genuine chance. You were perfect. Your thoughts were exquisite, your smile radiant, and everything about you felt right. When he kissed you, he could’ve screamed to the heavens that his heart was yours. 

Perhaps that was why his heart seemed to tear a bit at Iwaizumi’s declaration. You wanted to move on from this. 

“Oikawa…you can still fix this you know?” Iwaizumi pulled him up from the rug, noting the reignited spark in his eyes. “You should probably get the fair set up, find Y/N, and explain yourself. I’m certain they’ll understand.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” he said solemnly, “And if they still decide they want nothing to do with me, at least I did my part.”

You found him at Kuroo’s place at night when you’d stepped through his door uninvited (like you did at times). In your hands was your laptop, a few pencils, and the sign you’d made for the booth. The last thing you’d expected was to see the person you’d been trying so desperately to avoid. 

Oikawa, for a moment, looked like he’d seen a ghost. He looked at the door, brown eyes concerned and scanning you as if you’d just walked in through the wall. 

Nobody said anything. You stood still, too shell-shocked to process the fact that a night before the Cool Down, Oikawa was spending time with Kuroo. In fact, you could barely believe Kuroo had ever allowed Oikawa into his place in the first place, especially when he knew that you were planning on popping in at some point. 

Kuroo’s eyes followed your gaze, finding it landing right on the floor next to Oikawa (as opposed to straight at him). 

“Well,” Kuroo began softly, “I didn’t warn either of you.” 

“You could have,” you said, looking back at Kuroo, “I would’ve liked to know before I got here.” “But then you would have never showed up.” Oikawa’s voice was clear, slicing through the silence of the room with a blade of decisiveness that you hadn’t heard from him. He looked you over, seemingly analyzing your health since the day he’d fucked up. 

“I wasn’t planning on running into you,” you admitted, finding the courage to meet his eyes. “In fact, I was literally just coming to drop off the sign for your booth, talk to my best friend, and then go to bed.” 

“Please let me explain myself.” Everything about Oikawa seemed pleading. His face harbored an expression of guilt so boundless that you weren’t sure how to react. 

You wordlessly sat down in the corner chair closest to Kuroo’s door, setting your stuff down on the surface closest to it. 

“I’m sure Iwaizumi must have told you what it was that we were raising money for.” 

You nodded.

“I never had the chance to tell you more about what I struggled with in high school," Oikawa said quietly. “I was surrounded by talented players. Some of them are so talented that I thought I never even stood a chance.  I realized at the end of my matches that I deserved to be on the court just as much as anyone else.” 

“You’re a damn good setter Oikawa,” Kuroo interjected, “And even Semi admires your sets. He’s from the same school as Ushijima too.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa laughed softly, but even the sound was sad. He turned to meet your eyes. “I was out of line trying to say the volleyball club mattered more to me than what we were getting to be. I was worried they’d be weird at me for flaking, but they’re my team. Iwa told me they’d always have my back. Happy setter happy tosses right?” 

You took a moment to process everything that he was saying, ultimately coming to one conclusion. He really did feel bad. 

“Why are you so obsessed with having a chance to beat someone you had a rivalry with in highschool?” 

Oikawa paused, contemplating your question. His brow was furrowed, and his hands clutched anxiously around nothing, seemingly finding the best words to phrase—whatever it was—that he was feeling. 

“It was to give myself the confidence to know I can still beat tough opponents,” he said quietly. “But it was never worth losing you.” 

You gently moved onto the floor, kneeling your way over to where Oikawa sat. When your fingertips skimmed his cheek, cool from the fall time air, he seemed fragile. 

You gently curved your fingers to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you sure you mean it?” 

“Every last word.” Oikawa whispers, and maybe against your better instincts, you pull him into an embrace.

As far as Oikawa was concerned, you weren’t coming to the booth today. 

Cool Down’s set up began bright and early, and despite last night’s emotional clarity, Kuroo was still the one who showed up with the sign. 

The booth was placed in a central location, but deep enough into the carnival so that after a sweet kiss, everyone could go and support the other clubs. He hadn’t been able to spot Kiyoko quite yet, but he was certain they were bound to cross paths eventually. 

He walked across the grassy area where the carnival was being set up, watching the glorious “Cool Down” sign being placed at the front of the admit area. Many sports teams and board members of academic clubs were helping organize their own booths. 

“Hey Oikawa! I can put up the banner!” Bokuto shouted from across the field, jogging up to their area with a rolled up “Mystic Kissbooth” backdrop. 

“Be careful!” He yelled back, “We can’t have one of our best spikers getting hurt. I need those cross court and straight shots in perfect condition!” 

Bokuto grinned so widely that Oikawa couldn’t help but grin back. “You can count on me!” 

He took a moment to slouch against the now filled bouncy castle by their stand, clutching his clipboard to his chest. He could practically sense the excitement seeping into the space as the nearby club members set up their stands. 

He’d had the opportunity to survey the space beforehand, and was quite pleased with the nearby stations. 

The art club created a paint gun bullseye game to win handmade trinkets and jewelry. The president stood proudly at the set up side, excitedly loading up paint into the guns. He could already predict the boyfriends who’d attempt to win there.

To the other side of them was the statistics club’s probability stand. They’d set up numerous games: cards, a wheel, and even ring toss for the chance to win huge prizes. At the present moment, Kuroo was inquiring about the legitimacy of the airpods in one of the member’s hands (and yes—they were legit). 

“This is pretty amazing, huh?” 

Oikawa snapped out of his reverie, only to see Mattsun sporting his classic smirk. He looked around for Makki, but didn’t find him. 

“Yeah,” he admitted, “I’m honestly surprised our little flier accomplished this much.” 

“I’m not,” Mattsun chuckled, “You’ve been like this since high school Oikawa. Everyone here is really grateful for the rumors. Speaking of which…think the culprit is going to show up today?” 

Oikawa snorted, momentarily horrified at the sound 

that escaped him. “That’s ridiculous. I’m not planning on being a headliner. Iwa’s got that covered.” 

Makki walked into view just a few moments later, looking thoroughly confused. “Where’s the rest of the team?” 

Kuroo walked over at the exact moment, clapping Makki on the back. “We decided to give them a little break, considering they’re going to be doing all the kissing later.” 

The group gathered together, and Mattsun pointed to the castle. “Who’s running this thing?” 

“Oh it’s just a free fun thing the school is putting up.” Oikawa smacked it for good measure. 

“How did midterms even go for you guys?” Kuroo laughed, “I pulled what I wanted in all my classes. Somehow. Orgo was a fucking miracle though. I genuinely thought I failed.”

“I was mostly fine,” Mattsun chuckled, “Though we won’t talk about history. Freaking liberal arts.” 

Oikawa’s midterms had gone more or less to plan, but the added emotional stress had made it much more difficult to keep cool. 

Standing there in that grassy field, he felt more at peace than he did the rest of the week. 

Maybe today would be okay after all.

You and Iwaizumi were in your room trying to devise a plan on how to attend the carnival. The cool wood of your desk hit your wrist as you spread out the makeshift blueprint of the event that Kiyoko had so graciously given you. 

Iwaizumi paced along the floor, inspecting outfits that you picked out while you devised a mental list of everywhere you wanted to go to maximize your enjoyment. Economic principles were literally designed off of utility, and you wanted to make sure all your contributions would have the best outcome for the clubs and yourself. 

Midterms had been stressful, and while last night’s talk had fixed most of what had contributed to that stress, you still wondered about Oikawa.  

Iwaizumi was the event’s new headliner, so what did that mean for Oikawa? 

You weren’t sure. 

The Saturday morning filled your room with sunshine that was comforting. From your window you were greeted with the multicolored leaves of campus, some floating down leisurely to hit the grass. 

Iwaizumi, it seemed, had finally picked your outfit. 

“Here,” he gestured, pointing to one of your favorites. “You rock this one.” 

“Why thank you,” you smiled, tossing him the blueprint. “I’ve finally figured out the order I’m going to tour the Cool Down.”

Iwaizumi caught the paper in one arm, muscles flexing ever so slightly as he did. You nodded appreciatively. He was going to generate a shit ton of money. 

He put a pen between his lips ever so slightly as he read the marks on the page. “Cotton candy. Art booth. Bouncy castle. Stats games. Chemistry lab. Apple dunk to win candy apples. Physics coaster.” He handed the page back. “That’s a pretty solid list. I think you’re missing something though.”

You pulled the pen out of Iwa’s mouth (surprised at your boldness) and smiled gently at him. “I’ll be sure to pop in at some point or be nearby to support you.” 

Iwaizumi nodded, “Of course. I just need to beat you at any and all games we visit after my shift.” 

You snickered. “Not a chance.” 

Iwaizumi simply smirked in response.

“Hey, I need two tickets!” A student hollered to her assistant, who at the present moment, was working on acquiring more admit tickets from the roll they’d customized for the event. “We have quite the line here.” 

“I’m working on it!” The assistant hollered back, jogging over with the entire row. 

The line for the Cool Down was large, and you were thankful you’d had the foresight to arrive early enough to avoid a majority of the crowd. Being friends with Iwa had its perks too–the minute that the admitting team had spotted him, they’d immediately ushered you to the front so you were in a position to visit him later. 

Soon enough, you were at the front of the line. 

“Well hello there friend of Iwaizumi,” the girl at the front smiled, “How many tickets do you need?” “Just one,” you said, surprised at the lack of prompt to pay the entrance fee. “What about the entrance fee?” 

“Oh, Iwaizumi took care of that already,” the assistant grinned, handing you a beautifully designed cardstock ticket and tying a wristband around your wrist. “So you can walk straight in.” 

You smiled graciously at the duo. “Wow. I’ll go find him and pay him back. Thank you guys.”

Stepping around the ticket distribution center, you walked straight through the decorated entrance area and walked in. 

For a moment, you were awestruck. The usually empty grass fields were filled to the brim with activity. All around you were the booths of various clubs, all with lines to try them out. You could smell the sweet and tart scent of caramel apples in the distance, and saw a couple trying out the physics club’s make-shift coaster with a cotton candy in their hands. 

The late afternoon was brisk and fresh, and you felt the possibilities of the evening unfurl around you. As the sky darkened its hues, the fair would begin to light up from the fixtures that trimmed everyone’s areas. Everything, from the food areas, to even the Mystic Kissbooth would create a movie-like scene. 

You decided right there and then that the Cool Down was the best fair you’d ever attended. You’d never seen anything as well thought out as what you saw today. 

You made your way to the popcorn area, finding new booths that you hadn’t seen on the blueprint. In front of you was a simple dart-throw, with the guarantee of winning a special edition Cool Down shirt if you hit within a certain range. 

This was intriguing. 

“Hi there,” you said quietly, walking up to the booth. “Can I give this a whirl?” The booth’s president looked up at you shocked for a moment before nodding. 

“Of course!” He said excitedly, elbowing his shift mate. “Y/L/N Y/N, right? We are huge fans of your work. Kuroo has told us so so much about you!” 

“My work?” You asked curiously as they pressed a dart into your palm. “Like my fliers?” “Hell yeah,” the president grinned. “Pay if you win okay? I honestly want you to get our design out of it. We were inspired a bit by your Mystic Kissbooth sign.” 

In the spirit of good fun, you aimed the dart as best as you could, so surprised when you hit a spot very close to the bulls-eye. 

“Hey!” you shouted excitedly, “I actually got in range!” The president smiled excitedly. “Amazing! What’s your shirt size?” You told him your size, tucking a good amount of money into the jar. As soon as the soft shirt fabric hit your hands, you were immediately overcome with a sense of pride. The design was beautiful and simple, capturing the essence in the fair in just an image.

“You’re the design club?” You grinned, “This is amazing!” “Ah thank you,” the president said bashfully, “It’s an honor to get a compliment from you. You’re more than welcome to join us. Canva art is still art we love.” 

“I’ll be sure to consider it!” You waved goodbye to the design booth as you made your way deeper into the fair, a t-shirt in hand. 

“Hey there! Want a chance to win a cool plushie? Come right over!” You turned your head to be met with the sewing club with something that looked a lot like “Bop-It” set up with sheets of papers next to them. Out of sheer curiosity you made your way to the booth, finding a larger crowd than you anticipated. “Okay,” one of the members began, “Here is how this works. You and your competitor will receive a pre-programmed Bop-It machine. Follow the color scheme as closely as you can and note the last color in each sequence on your sheet. If you don’t mess up before your partner, you win ANY handmade plush of your choice!” In front of you, you spotted a couple tucking money into the jar and competing against one another. The round was quick, ending when someone clicked the wrong color. The handmade plushie of the winner was adorable. 

Somehow, all your observations had led you to the front of the line. 

“Hello,” a student smiled, “Do you have a competitor with you?” You were about to share a response when you heard a voice behind you. “Yeah, they do. I’d like to play please.” You were pleasantly surprised to find Kiyoko grinning as she tucked a hefty amount into the jar. The student at the front seemed enamored, and so did the entire line. 

“Shimizu Kiyoko is here…” they all whispered. 

“Hey Kiyoko,” you smiled, placing your own money in the jar. “Planning to beat me?” 

“Of course.” She grinned mischievously, “I ran a volleyball team. I am competitive enough to beat you.” 

The game began as soon as the students got a grip of themselves. You frantically hit the colors and noted them down, only to tie with Kiyoko. You’d both walked away with adorable plushies, though Kiyoko had forcibly had to ensure that they didn’t hand her an extra. 

“I’m glad to run into you,” you smiled, walking with her further into the grass. “I had no idea what time you were planning to get here.” 

“I’m glad I found you.” Her smile was infectious, and soon enough, you stood in front of a candy apple stand. 

“Are you planning to visit the booth?” You asked her, watching her pay for her apple. 

“Yeah,” she smiled, “Oikawa begged me to cover, so I was feeling nice. Though he’s been sulking lately.” You raised a brow. When you saw him last night, you could feel his fatigue. You felt the stress melt out of him when you pulled him in for a hug, but you hadn’t realized the extent of his distress. 

“He hasn’t kissed today at all,” she smiled knowingly, “I think he’s saving an appearance for a special someone.” “He’s….not headlining?” You were shocked. After everything, it seemed that he really meant what he said. 

“Nope,” Kiyoko wiped some caramel from her lips. “And the booth’s sales have been spectacular.” 

Standing there in the field, you were hit with the intense urge to see him. “Go,” Kiyoko smiled, “They’ve been waiting for you to show up.” “We’ll catch up.” You smiled as you took off in a jog towards the booth. The wind swept your cheeks as you ran, and you could see the evening sun dip into different colors. Beautiful, you thought, feeling the adrenaline pump through your veins. 

He really had meant everything. You needed to see him. 

When you arrived at the booth, you were shocked at the line. So many students lined up, money in hand as they waited for their chance to kiss a volleyball player. You were shocked to see the crowd, watching someone hand Semi a particularly large bill before leaning in for a kiss. 

You surveyed the booth for Oikawa, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. You couldn’t stop the thrum of your heart in your chest from overpowering your senses. Where was he? What if you were too late? At that particular moment, Oikawa walked out from behind the stand, putting some Chapstick onto his lips. And then, he saw you. 

You stood in line, a large bill in hand and an expression that seemed almost desperate. Oikawa has never seen anyone look more perfect than you did right now. You held a handmade plushie and a shirt, lips flushed from biting them. 

You met his eyes, feeling your heart shock at the sensation. There he was. 

Before you even had a chance to think about what you were doing, you ran out of line to him, shoving the bill into his hands. 

“Tooru,” you said breathlessly, looking at him with an expression he’d never seen before. “Kiyoko told me you weren’t headlining. I was afraid I wasn’t going to find you. I’m sorry for not trusting you.” Oikawa could hardly hide his shock as the words tumbled from your lips. He studied your cheeks, and smoothed out your wind mused hair with a soft smile. “Hey, it’s alright.” You exhaled, looking at him like he strung the stars. “I thought I wouldn’t make it in time.” Oikawa simply grinned before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. 

This was different from the last time you kissed. He cupped your face softly and wrapped his other arm around your waist, tracing a small heart into your back. You could feel the curve of his lips as he kissed you softly, pulling you deeper when you smiled back into it. Everything about this was soft, almost loving. It felt like a truce. It felt like a confession. 

It felt better than both of those things. When you finally split for air, his smile was nearly blinding. He looked at you like you were a poet and he was your poetry, a product of your purest affections. 

“Go out with me sometime?” He looked nervous, standing there like he hadn’t just kissed you like you were the most special person in the universe. 

“Of course,” you grinned, pulling him down for another kiss.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

if you got this far, thank you for reading <3!!

[tomiyeee]

genshin mikey!! the black & white drawings were early sketches while i was playing around with the design. i’m really happy with the final version :)

ability/gameplay ideas under cut:

Pyro Bow

im thinking his normal attack patterns would be similar to yelan and yoimiya 🤔 imagine yelan’s animations (using mystic chains instead of thread) but with yoimiya’s energy. his primary role is crowd control and pyro application. hopefully those come across in his abilities, i’m not super in-the-know about genshin meta and whatnot ;-;

Elemental Skill: Whip-o-rama

Fires a burst of mystic energy, dealing Pyro DMG to opponents and forming a ring of fiery chains that orbit around the active character and apply Pyro to nearby enemies. These chains will burst after a period of time, dealing another instance of Pyro DMG in an AOE.

Elemental Burst: Power Fun Jutsu

Mikey leaps backwards, releasing a vortex of fiery chains at his previous location that deal continuous Pyro damage in an AOE for a short duration while also pulling surrounding enemies towards its center. Affected enemies will be wrapped in chains and rendered immobile for a period of time after this ability ends. Larger enemies will only be slowed instead of immobile.

[onejellyfishplease]

@allmightyscroll-swag came up with an au idea of what if the turtles were Lou Jitsu (he never became Splinter in this au) and Big Mama's bio children.

So I was immediately inspired to draw some half human half Jorōgumo designs!

Mikey (he/him) looks mostly human from the waist up, aside from the 4 eyes with yellow sclera (and the extra spider arms ig) But from the waist down hes alll spider baby!! Hes pretty half and half, at least compared to his siblings, though he cant produce any webs nor foes he have a poisonous bite he is still incredibly mystically powerful!

Now onto the twins!! (he/him for Leo and he/they for Donnie)

Theyre much more human presenting than the other two. And look like mirror images of each other. On their more spidery side (the one with the multiple red eyes) they both have patterns that go down the entire length of that side of their body. They both also have light purple hair, just a few shades darker than the hair Big Mama has in her human form, though Leo dyes his.

They both can produce webbing, but not in the same way big mama can make hers, in that they cant spew it as an attack, but can produce it as a steady thread (theyre both awesome at sewing) from the roof of their mouths. They also both have a venomous bite.

They can basically pretend to be human if they cover the more spidery side if their face with hair (thats why they have it grown so long) And hide their extra arms in a hoodie or something.

And finally we have Raph!! (he/she)

Clearly hes the most spider-like of his siblings, and his appearance often scares even yokai at first, and is often mistaken of an Oni. But have no doubt, she gives the BEST hugs ever!! He can spew webs just like Big Mama too, though her bite isnt as poisonous as the twin's, but has a stronger bite force.

Also this lad is BIG, almost as tall as big mama already! probably because hes afab, and female spiders are usually bigger than male spiders.

And of course, we need a family photo to finish this off:

[carmesi-butterfly]

red thread of fate

han yujin + reader. word count 1,3k. warnings none. not proofread

your way to school was interrupted by a strange and unfamiliar sensation on your finger, feeling as if it was trapped in your clothes threads, your gaze went down searching for what was supposedly stuck in your hand, a situation that felt so ordinary ended up being the discovery of your designated other, there was the renowned red string, tied to your finger in an announcement of your soulmate’s proximity. you could even feel how it pulled you to the direction of its origin. should you follow this mystic appearance? who are you trying to fool? the question did not get the opportunity to formulate in your mind when you were already running towards this mysterious person waiting on the other side of the thread.

a few streets from your school another institution could be found, it wasn't near but either far away, probably a twenty-minute walk on foot, it was kind of an unknown place to you because it was on the opposite side of your school and home, there was no need to go there but now you can find yourself rushing towards it, scurrying away through the alleys following the path of your soulmate, a variety of different emotions flew through your body being accompanied by all sort of queries, questioning gender, looks, age, personality, and a lot more that couldn't be answered by you right now. halfway your nerves became stronger and the anxiety started to seize your mind and body, the route felt endless even if just a few minutes passed, the fear of your soulmate going far away and causing the beautiful crimson thread to disappear seeped through your bones while your footsteps became faster, a few voices could be heard near the end of the passage indicating the starting of a new street, your eyes followed in a rush the string which opposite to how it felt when it appeared, tensioned and ensnared to you, now felt loose-fitting, logically indicating that your future companion was near… right?

by looking up and trying to go after the red line your mission ended up concluding because the person tied to you in this lifetime was standing right in front of you, with a surprised face and open mouth glancing at you, a cute boy wearing a high school uniform similar to the one you use, his eyes captivated you in some way you couldn't explain, clearly, it was fate, his agitated breathing also called your attention, was he searching for you too?

“i tried a new way to school today” dropped without any context, “going through the alleys so i could have a calmer walk without my classmates…” it felt like he was trying to explain something, but his calm tone and ‘lazy’ (to put it in some way) way of speaking made it confusing.

your index finger was placed under your lip, posing on your chin while thinking, maybe it could help you think faster! “ooh… we have never been so close before, you taking a route closer to mine ended up manifesting the red thread” your words were more a way of explaining to yourself the most recent events than an answer.

his answer was a simple nod, his face had some sort of awkward smile on it while his hands nervously brushed against each other, his weird attitude was found cute by you, who now admired his expression with a playful smile.

“can i walk with you to your school? we can start to meet each other and exchange numbers!” your cheerful tone made yujin chuckle.

“i should be the one asking you that” mumbled shyly, his hand reached to his head and scratched it a little bit. his response won a good laugh on your side.

“don't be shy! we have a lot of first steps you can take in this new path as soulmates'' your sweet comment caused him to be more ashamed than before, your easygoing personality facilitated you to take the reins of the conversation making him feel as if you knew him for a long time, is this how soulmates feel? a long chat with hanbin is what he needed to understand such strong emotions, it felt inexplicable, stupid even! Breathing in, the young boy tried to gain at least a bit of courage to look at you in the eyes.

“okay, i will walk you to school and… pick you up and walk you to your house too” his chest inflated with a mix of air and bravery, the shy smile that was decorating his face maintained now with less effort and more feeling involved.

“don't you think that's too much?” your comment smashed hard to the floor the bit of confidence he built up, obviously that wasn't your intention, it was just a funny and innocent mention and luckily for you, the boy could see through that.

“it is?...” asked, cheeks adorned by a kind of pinkish tone.

“maybe… but i know what we can do, you walk me to school today and i will walk you tomorrow” this suggestion may seem like something silly to other people, but please, get in the place of the two teenagers who were not only experiencing their first love but also discovering their soulmate, their life comrade, the person they will grow old with! the life-changing occasion most of the populace in this world have the opportunity to go through, people from every corner of the globe wait anxiously for the moment they can find their other half, fate dictates it is your moment now and your young mind will choose how to manage it. “and give me your phone number! do you have any socials? i have instagram and twitter, and i also have snapchat but i never use it, oh and-”

your verbal vomit was interrupted by the quiet boy with such a simple question that surprisingly hadn't crossed your mind since the start of the interaction, “what's your name?”

it startled you, how could you forget to ask something so important? he must think you're an idiot! what a shame, everything was going so well… i guess. “i want to know yours first” your petition came as a playful one, not letting your mistake stop your mood from being at its peak.

“yujin, h-han yujin” his words stumbled upon themselves, he thought the nerves reached out to him again due to the reappearing of a strange sensation on his chest and tummy, but it didn't feel the same, his heart was palpitating powerfully and driving all those sensations to his stomach who felt like a thousand bunnies were hopping nonstop.

yes, he couldn't understand it now and that's okay, no one can manage to comprehend something as difficult and enigmatic as human emotions at a young age, especially in the teenage years that usually turn out to be the most confusing period for us, but there is going to be a moment in the future when all of those sensations will have a name and a reason, discovering that is work of the “now”, and if there is a feeling yujin can detect very well is the excitement he feels to see what future departures him and what destiny (as perplex as it can be) brings him with your arrival. also, thinking about how gyuvin’s face will twist after telling him he has found his soulmate before him was a funny thing to imagine, meaning he's also waiting for that more-near future to happen, the idea of talking to you about it also felt nice and could help to break the ice in future encounters!

hereafter seemed promising for the blossoming young couple, who even after an unusual beginning were excited to see how fate reunited two destined souls in this universe.

[introverted-scribblings]

The RFA w/ MC who loves sewing

What? A post? From me? You're crazy, there's no way that's happening.

I'm trying to get back into writing for this blog and recently started replaying Mystic Messenger because I want poor sleep 💕 Basically I'm letting my fixation fuel my writing because... the sentence ends there.

Enjoy these headcanons! I thought they turned out really cute~

(FYI: I used fem!MC for these headcanons; girlfriend/wife/etc.)

Yoosung:

He found out in the RFA chatroom when the two of you were talking about games and hobbies.

Yoosung had been excitedly telling you about the armor set he had gotten in his latest LOLOL binge, sending a picture and saying how he wishes he could wear cool armor in real life.

“I can make it for you”

“MC… what???”

And this is where he discovered your passion for sewing and your side-hobby of cosplay

He had a little experience with sewing, he could sew on a button and fix small tears thanks to his high school “home ec” classes, but you’re talking about making entire outfits and costumes from scratch.

THAT’S. SO. COOL.

He is amazed and thoroughly impressed by your talents, even moreso after you send some pictures of your completed works.

It’s amazing that you can make your own clothes, but he’s definitely super impressed with your cosplays. They’re insanely detailed, matching perfectly with the source material. He often says that your cosplays look better than the source material. They’re true works of art in his eyes.

Praises your talents nonstop.

Talks about it all the time to everyone. Every one of his friends knows how skilled his girlfriend is. And the other RFA members know tenfold.

After hearing you talk about your projects, Yoosung decided to join the sewing club at school in the hopes that he could help you with your amazing work! (Not that you need help, he really just wants to participate in something you love)

What ends up happening though is him sitting beside you at the sewing machine and getting lost in your working rhythm. (“Yoosung, are you paying attention? I thought you wanted me to give you tips?” “S-sorry, MC!! You’re just… really good at this… Like magic!”)

There’s no way he’ll be able to catch up with your skill anytime soon, so you compromise with him. You’ll make the costumes, but he has to cosplay with you~

(I have a short fic continuation of this! You can read it here)

Zen:

He found out just before one of his performances.

The costume he was wearing was a bit snug but worked fine in all the dress rehearsals, so he didn’t think much of it at the time.

You were backstage with him before opening night, ready to tell him to break a leg and give the audience a show to remember, when you saw the rip in his jacket.

It was a seam rip behind his left shoulder. Not the worst, but clearly noticeable.

Curtain was in ten minutes.

“Hyun, take off your costume.”

“Jagyia, I know I’m irresistible, but can you wait until after the show?”

“Not like that!!!” >////<

You pulled a flat black case from your purse and opened it, revealing a small sewing kit. You had everything you needed for a sewing emergency. Pins, buttons, snaps, scissors, an assortment of colored thread. And needles, of course.

You fixed the rip and strengthened the seam with four minutes to spare.

Zen asks you about it after the show (which went perfectly, thanks to you) and you explain your sewing hobby to him. Mentioning that you always have your little sewing kit with you for emergencies like tonight.

You show him pictures of the projects you’ve made and entire outfits you’ve designed and created from scratch. A good chunk of your wardrobe are pieces you’ve made yourself.

Of course he supports you! He’s so impressed and is constantly gushing about how talented you are in the chatroom.

Though nothing could prepare him for the moment you said you wanted to make something for him. Looking up at him with big hopeful eyes as you asked if he’d let you design him an outfit. His heart nearly burst.

You poured hours of time and effort into these pieces for him, determined to make this your best project yet. Your magnum opus. (You also sent concept sketches and fabric swatches to Jaehee for her “professional fan opinion”)

When he put it on for the first time, he was speechless. Everything fit perfectly, there wasn’t a part of the outfit that was uncomfortable in the slightest.

And he may be a bit of a narcissist, but he swore that the clothes you crafted made him more handsome than he thought possible. He looked good but never this good.

Your heart was filled with sunshine and warmth when he decided to wear it to an interview.

“My outfit? It’s custom-made. My girlfriend is a very talented seamstress and this was a gift from her~”

Jaehee:

She found out when she called you to complain about the c-fur she was still cleaning up around her apartment.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, Jaehee. I know how bad that can get. I took care of my friend’s cat for a weekend once and I spent an entire month cleaning fur off all my fabric.”

Your fabric?? “What fabric, MC?”

The fabric for your projects of course! Once she got you started, you happily explained your passion to her and how you’ve been making your own clothes for a while now too.

She is also very impressed with your skill and also impressed with how handy it is. You very generously offered to mend her favorite blazer when one of the seams split. You also fixed the two loose buttons you found.

When you two open up the cafe together, you made Jaehee a custom apron to wear. Even going so far as to embroider her name on it along with some decorative coffee beans.

It’s her favorite apron and the one she wears the most while working. (until it has to be cleaned, but then it’s right back in the cafe for her to use)

It gets a lot of compliments too and you’ve actually had a few customers commission you from Jaehee’s (unintentional) promoting.

You since made more clothes for her, even an entire sundress similar to one she had been looking at while you both were out shopping. (You didn’t think the one sold was her color, so you made one yourself that would highlight her best~)

The only issue is the thread and fabric scraps that tend to scatter just as bad as the c-fur… but hey, at lease the end result is more useful! And she can always count on you to tidy your mess when you’re finished~

Jumin:

You mentioned it offhand. Simply mentioning the stitching quality on one of his ties and how you hadn’t made a tie before.

He followed up asking why you would want to make a tie, to which you explained that you often made your own clothes but would love to give yourself a little challenge with something you hadn’t done before.

Initially, he didn’t quite understand. He could easily have any outfit you desired tailored specifically for you, there wasn’t the need to go through all the hassle of making it.

You had to explain that it was your hobby. That, while time consuming and occasionally tedious, you truly enjoyed making your own clothes, and showed him some examples from your closet.

“I’m quite impressed, MC. I’ve only seen this kind of quality come out of trained professionals.”

“I’ll take that compliment. Thank you, love~”

He gives you an entire studio for your projects. While you insist that he doesn’t need to give you so many elaborate gifts, you have to admit that the space is very nice. Much better than working in cramped conditions or on the floor.

While Jumin doesn’t have an interest in joining your craftiness, your husband is more than willing to encourage your hobby monetarily with machine repairs and high quality materials.

Whatever you want, you can have. You’re his darling wife after all.

He even gifted you an antique sewing machine, a vintage 1902 Singer Treadle. You don’t “use” it, but you learned how to just for fun. It’s a lovely decoration of your hobby at the least.

And, yes, you did make a tie for him. Two actually, but you only gave him the second one, insisting that the first was practice only.

It quickly becomes his favorite and he always wears it to important meetings. It’s like having you right there with him for support.

It also becomes quite the talking piece at one of the RFA parties when a member of the Cultured Citizens asks about the brand and price.

“This tie was handmade by my wife and is certainly priceless.”

707:

He already knew because of course he did.

He would often send you (jokingly) ridiculous “orders” with impossible time frames, including:

An iridescent “Statue of Liberty” costume - 3 days

Twenty-seven onesies for ducks - 4 days

A prom dress made of pasta - 3 days

An overnight yeti costume

The two of you would banter about it in the chatroom until someone told you guys to knock it off, it was never not fun.

Whenever you finished a new piece or outfit for yourself, you would try it on and call him while standing in front of the camera in the apartment, asking for his opinion.

The cat-themed overall skirt was the one that broke him. You were just so cute with all the decorated pockets~! And the buttons looked like little cats too! You’re just too precious~

After the dust of the first party settled and Saeyoung had his brother back, you took it upon yourself to make Saeran some new clothes. He was going to be your brother-in-law, after all, you wanted to make him feel welcome.

Of course, it then turned into making both boys some new clothes as you kept thinking of new ideas. Not that you minded, this was your passion after all.

I think Saeyoung would also give you your own room/studio in the bunker. A place where you could spread out without worry. (Vanderwood was just grateful he didn’t have to keep cleaning up thread)

Saeyoung was also happy to help with any repairs your sewing machine needed, or he’d just make you a new one… or three… with some—interesting—added features.

“Saeyoung, dear, I don’t think my machine needs a Ph.D Pepper dispenser.”

“But what if my honey gets thirsty while she works?!”

“...But won’t the sewing shake up all the carbonation? It would explode on my pretty clothes T^T”

“OMG! I’m so sorry!! I’ll take it out right away!!”

This kind of conversation happens regularly.

Eventually, there was one top-secret project that you were working on… one that you made Saeyoung swear not to snoop through. Even going so far as to have Saeran keep an eye out to make sure his brother stayed true to his word. (He did but he whined about it)

The project took a long time and you had to have Saeran help you order the materials in secret.

Saeyoung didn’t like being kept in the dark, it made him uneasy. You assured him it was okay and that you just didn’t want the surprise to be ruined.

He was still uneasy, but he trusted you.

And it was all worth it in the end…

When you walked down the aisle in your handmade wedding dress, glittering and shining like stars in the night sky you both loved so much.

[mybeingthere]

Isabella Ducrot, born 1931 in Naples,

lives and works in Rome.

She began her career as a painter at the age of 60, and for almost three decades she worked more or less in silence - much of that time here, in the Palazzo Doria Pamphilj. From her studio you can look directly into the baroque garden in the palace's inner courtyard, a hidden oasis in the middle of Rome where time seems to have stood still.

“Sometimes I enjoy the freedom that comes from not having studied art, the freedom to be ignorant.”

She has traveled to Afghanistan, China, India and Tibet with her husband, and since the 1960s often with the painter Cy Twombly, whose wife Tatiana Ducrot was a close friend. On these trips she collected fabrics over decades - magnificent, sacred, folk. And she has written philosophical, poetic and art-historical texts about them. So it was only natural that fabric would be the subject of her painting, which is now being discovered by the international art world.

When asked whether she was influenced by Buddhism, minimal or conceptual art, she answers in the negative: "I didn't follow anyone. I had no masters, I didn't study at the academy. I'm a self-made woman." She says that Tatiana Twombly, herself an artist and a legendary interior designer, encouraged her and bought her first works, and that Achille Bonito Oliva, one of the most important Italian curators, commissioned her to create a mosaic in the Naples subway in 2005, where Ducrot grew up as the daughter of a noble family. You can sense that she has lived a privileged life surrounded by art and artists. But her pictures of bulbous teapots, her landscapes inspired by miniature paintings, speak of a mystical simplicity, a spiritual experience that is conveyed in the decorative elements as well as in the nature of the material.

"Textiles have to do with something invisible, like breath," says Ducrot, "you don't see it, but you feel it - in the void between the threads." The grid of warp and weft, of crossing threads, which is exposed like a skeleton in the Tibetan shawls, forms an archetypal matrix for Ducrot. In her book "The Checkered Cloth" she describes the fabrics as "textile prayers", "an indestructible connection between spirit and matter" into which thoughts and words are woven. In Isabella Ducrot's work, fabric is a semiotic, poetic, social network of history, stories and myths.

[maxxphoenixv1]

Maxxbomb #1 aka Maxxtendo Direct

Welcome the the first of what'll be hopefully many MAXXBOMBS. This is where I fit my unique content into a convenient package. Meet Kazari, The Reincarnation of Shadow Weaver

Kazari is a special She-Ra OC I created, sort of out of spite, but I really love her, like my own baby, which is ironic because I'm never having kids. Kazari has the ability to control HAVOK MAGIC, a powerful form of magic, imagine HAMON from Jojo's Bizarre Adventure mixed with ONE FOR ALL from My Hero Academia. Kazari is ruthless, mischievous, a trickster and kind of a raging b****canoe when she wants to be, but ultimately with a heart of gold. Also, she's dating Finn.

The two actually got together at Princess Prom. My friend, Luna actually designed her Prom Dress

The story is currently incomplete, but you can ready it on AO3

On the subject of She-Ra... I've actually made something really special for Catradora stans and Shadow Weaver Antis

Here are the link to the AO3 -> LINK

Further more, I am writing a sequel, here is the plot synopsis -> "In the aftermath of a harrowing school shooting that rips through Etheria High, Police Chief Mara grapples with the daunting task of unraveling the enigmatic threads that bind together a web of online fandoms, veiled secrets, and the haunting repercussions that reverberate through the shattered lives of survivors. As the community struggles to come to terms with the devastating event, an unsettling online phenomena begins threatens corrupt and distort the city and all that Mara holds dear!"

-> LINK

Winx: Mystic Crusaders

I'm also writing a spin-off for Roxy. It's called Winx: Mystic Crusaders. Ever since the battle against the Wizards of the Black Circle, things have not been exactly easy for Roxy, as it turns out, going through what she'd been through is pretty traumatic. Things become complicated when the Winx go missing. Now, Roxy has set out to rescue them, but she can't do it alone, so now, she must gather up a team of fairies, witches and specialists to save to day and bring back peace. Together, they are the MYSTIC CRUSADERS. And here is the logo

You can read this story, live on AO3 ->

While we're on the subject of Roxy. I've always made the case that Roxy was the Gohan of Winx Club

To that end, I made a special transformation of Roxy... KIDEMIX

Kidemix, the culmination of Roxy's evolution, rises above the usual metamorphoses triggered by tasks or quests. It materializes as a manifestation of unparalleled pressure and trauma, akin to a dormant volcano violently erupting or a cornered, wounded creature lashing out in desperation. Unlike other transformations, Kidemix surges forth in direct response to the malevolence and injustices heaped upon the user and their cherished ones, channeling a primal force to confront and annihilate profound evil. It becomes a vivid representation of innocence irretrievably lost in the face of adversity.

To attain Kidemix, Earth Fairies follow a straightforward set of criteria:

Possessing a Pure Heart: Kidemix's essence lies in the unwavering purity of the fairy's heart, a prerequisite that distinguishes it from mere magical achievements.

Amassing a Colossal Quantity of Power: In stark contrast to conventional power-ups, Kidemix demands the accumulation of an extraordinary reservoir of energy. For Roxy, this involved acquiring Aquatix, a power source potentially 15 times more potent than the formidable Sirenix.

Experiencing an Intense Emotional Trigger: Kidemix awakens in response to an overwhelming surge of emotions, triggered by profound experiences. This emotional catalyst propels the fairy into a transformative state of power and resilience.

The abilities bestowed by Kidemix extend beyond a mere power boost; they push the user's capabilities beyond their logical conclusion. Roxy, as the Fairy of Animals, gains the extraordinary ability to adopt the traits of any creature in existence. Kidemix, in essence, propels the user's abilities to an unprecedented zenith.

Notably, the user's size increases to nearly double its original.

Just as Spider-Man possesses the formidable black suit, and Teen Gohan achieves Super Saiyan 2, Roxy's Kidemix stands as her ultimate transformation, showcasing her strength and resilience in the face of adversity.

Kidemix, however, is not a power easily harnessed. It carries a wild and savage essence, needing to be tamed and mastered. Like a tempest, it can be uncontrollable, requiring the user to forge a deep connection and understanding to guide its formidable power. But what about you? How would your OCs Kidemix work? Or the other Winx? Tell me using the #WinxKidemix. BTW, the art was done by Poison the Cat on IG

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 1.5) Chapter Sixteen

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Sixteen: One Hell of a Dance

Summary: (Y/N), Claude, and Sebastian battle while Alois and Ciel duel.

            Claude stood a ways away from (Y/N) and Sebastian, Hannah beside him. She, however, was already “disqualified” from the dance due to being beaten by (Y/N). That didn’t mean Claude didn’t have a use for her, though.

            He took his glasses off. With one hand, he pulled Hannah to his side, and the demoness gasped and trembled.

            (Y/N) cocked their head. They still felt like Hannah had some power that she was, for some reason, keeping quiet in exchange for…what? Being hurt and used by Claude and Alois? Either way, (Y/N) could see through it. They understood the way non-masc people used power. They kept it hidden before striking so no one could attempt to take it away. That was what they saw with Hannah.

            But they had no time to focus on that. Claude was the immediate threat to them, Ciel, and, most importantly to (Y/N), Sebastian.

            Claude pulled his glove from his hand with his teeth. He tipped Hannah’s face towards him.

            “Claude…” she whispered, closing her eyes and bracing herself.

            Claude’s fingers pushed into Hannah’s mouth. For a moment, his eyes went to (Y/N), and his fingers pressed against the back of Hannah’s mouth, causing her to gag. It was a sexual motion, and (Y/N)’s eyes narrowed in disgust and distaste. Sebastian’s eyes flashed with anger as Claude’s gaze once again traced over (Y/N).

            He would gauge them from Claude’s head.

            Claude finally turned his head to focus on Hannah. His hand moved down her throat until he grasped something and pulled it out. Hannah coughed and collapsed to her knees. Claude held the sword he’d pulled from its sheath in his head. It was a deep blue-green, jagged and twisted, not a weapon of human design.

            Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Oh, what do we have here?”

            (Y/N) glanced at him. “What is it?”

            “An ancient, mystical sword, clad in eternal darkness: Laevateinn,” said Sebastian. “I did not expect him to possess such a blade.”

            Claude brandished Laevateinn. “I simply thought I would pay due respect since you occasioned this ball. Well, then, let us commence the Danse Macabre.”

            Claude ran at (Y/N) and Sebastian. He stabbed at Sebastian, but the raven demon grabbed the flats of the blade and guided it away from him. (Y/N) jumped behind Claude and attacked, but Claude stumbled forward, reoriented himself, and swung at (Y/N). They flipped backwards while Sebastian raised two knives to block the sword. The silver knives were cut in half but Laevateinn, however. Sebastian dodged back beside (Y/N) as they glanced at each other and reassessed their strategy.

            Claude attack again, and Sebastian and (Y/N) dodged again. They danced across the chess board; Sebastian and (Y/N) retaliating but being forced to back off as the arc of the blade came to close to cutting skin.

            On the terrace, Ciel and Alois rose and walked into the mansion. The nobles would face each other while the servants did. Sebastian and Claude’s eyes met. This could be it. Neither would back down now.

            Laevateinn smashed into the ground beside Sebastian as he watched Ciel leave carefully, and (Y/N) pulled him aside. As they reached out though, they hissed as a thin thread sliced through their hand. Their eyes widened, and Sebastian’s eyes narrowed.

            “It seems you were a bit too concerned for yourselves and the Young Lord,” said Claude. “You seem to have lost concentration.”

            Sebastian’s cheek was slit open, and drops of blood fell to the floor. Another thread was stretched taught around him. “Ah. When did that happen?” All around him and (Y/N), threads thin enough that only demons could see and manipulate them, sharp enough to cut flesh, kept them in place.

            “Damn,” muttered (Y/N). They had been too worried about keeping Sebastian safe to care for themself, and now both were stuck in the spider’s web.

            Claude jumped onto a thread and walked towards the demons. The webs tightened, cutting into the pair more. “The spider threads of the Trancy family are able to cut the steel. If you move, your head will fly off.” He smirked. He couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight of (Y/N) trapped by his threads, utterly at his mercy. Blood dripped from their head, ruby red and tantalizing.

            “As expected of the Spider’s butler,” said Sebastian, no kindness in his words as he narrowed his eyes upon seeing Claude’s lustful gaze.

            Claude reached out towards (Y/N), and their eyes flashed fuchsia. Sebastian could see a bit of their demon form swirl into existence, their nails sharpening into claws. They weren’t to be so easily tamed by some webs.

            “So beautiful…” he murmured. “I knew you’d look sublime restrained…”

            “I don’t take compliments from spiders,” hissed (Y/N) in disgust.

            Claude’s gloved hand brushed against (Y/N)’s cheek, and they struck up. Before their claws made contact with him, though, not caring for the various threads cutting into their skin as they moved, Claude’s hand withdrew, and he straightened. Sebastian’s narrowed eyes, bright fuchsia at the sight of Claude near (Y/N), moved towards the mansion.

            Alois and Ciel were battling within. The two were bleeding, and the demons could sense it. Claude moved quickly, slicing through the webs to create a path for himself to run to mansion. No matter who was dying, he needed to be there. He needed the souls.

            Sebastian and (Y/N) extracted themselves from the threads. Sebastian couldn’t help but reach to (Y/N) to pull them through the webs without getting injured. His hands rested on them but a moment before retracing as they raced into the mansion.

            (Y/N), Sebastian, and Claude threw open the library doors.

            “Young Master/Your Highness!” cried Claude and Sebastian.

            Ciel lay on his back on the ground, and on top of them, Alois was gasping for air as Ciel’s sword stabbed into his side, blood seeping from the wound. Alois fell back, allowing Ciel to sit up, and clutched his wound.

            “That hurts!” cried Alois in pain, curling into his side on the ground. “Help me! Help me, Claude!”

            “Yes, your High—.” Claude started towards Alois, and Sebastian moved to help Ciel.

            “Stop there, Sebastian!” ordered Ciel. His eyes were furiously wild. “Don’t approach before I’ve killed him!” His soul was finding its revenge once more, and the demons froze in awe.

            “Of course.” Sebastian bowed his head and smirked.

            Ciel stood over Alois, sword at his side. “Die, Alois Trancy,” he said.

            “No! I don’t want to die!” Tears streamed down Alois’s face. “It hurts…Help me, Ciel…”

            (Y/N) almost (almost) pitied the boy. Claude had willingly given evidence that he was the focus of Ciel’s revenge. But (Y/N) had no room for pity for a human who went looking for a battle and lost it.

            ��You’re disgracing yourself, Alois!” said Ciel. “How dare you, after killing my parents!”

            “You don’t understand anything!” cried Alois helplessly. “The demon at your side is deceiving you!”

            Yes, but yours is far more deceptive and traitorous, yet you are unwilling to see it, thought (Y/N).

            “Demon?” murmured Ciel.

            “My parents were killed, too,” sobbed Alois. “My precious family was burnt to death, along with my village. I was robbed of what was important to me. We are the same! I swear, I won’t haunt you anymore!” He was begging, crying. “I will apologize for everything! Just, please, spare my life!”

            Ciel raised his sword. All his soul burned for was revenge, pure and bright. “You soiled my pride. You will atone for your sins with your life!”

            “Help me, Claude!” cried Alois.

            Ciel plunged the sword down, and Claude moved to grab him. He grabbed the sword, but before he could reach for Ciel himself, (Y/N) was between them, pushing Ciel behind them as their catlike eyes pierced into Claude. Sebastian had been ordered not to move, but (Y/N) had no orders they had to follow. Claude surged forward, and (Y/N) pushed Ciel to Sebastian, who grabbed him protectively. Claude’s hands grabbed (Y/N), and they pushed him back, slapping him across the face, claws raking across his skin, the blood from their cuts splattering across his skin. (Y/N) shoved away from Claude, retreating to Sebastian and Ciel.

            A drop of blood dripped to his lip, and Claude licked it. His eyes turned fuchsia, and his mouth fell open in shock.

            Sebastian’s eyes widened as he saw Claude’s expression. (Y/N)’s blood. He had tasted (Y/N)’s blood and looked like that. Whatever obsession he currently held for owning (Y/N) had just deepened. It was clear on Claude’s face.

            “Alois Trancy!” Ciel nearly roared in anger, trying to get out of Sebastian’s grip to attack the boy at his butler’s feet. He groaned suddenly as his own bound ached and fell limper.

            “I cannot allow you to consider the dance in this condition,” said Sebastian. He glared at Claude. “I’m sorry, but we are leaving now.” His eyes narrowed as Claude didn’t respond, still staring, wide-eyed, into space. “Mr. Claude?”

            (Y/N) stepped closer to Sebastian. They could fight for themself, but it didn’t change that they felt slightly…safer beside the demon they loved.

            “Ah…yes,” said Claude slowly. “We will continue this ball some other day.”

            “Then we shall take our leave,” said (Y/N), keeping a watchful eye on the spider demon as Sebastian picked up Ciel.

            “You snuck off on your own and were injured. I must say, you are quite an unruly Young Master,” said Sebastian, trying to lighten Ciel’s mood and keep calm as they left the room. He wished he had more than two hands so that he could also pull (Y/N) close to keep Claude from them. The possessive itch had returned, and he was extraordinarily satisfied when the doors of the Trancy mansion slammed closed behind him.

l

            “Claude…what are you staring at?” sobbed Alois from the floor, looking at his butler, whose gaze was still glued to the door. He lifted a bloody hand. “Look, I was stabbed in the stomach! Help me, quick!”

            Claude didn’t move, still frozen. He pulled a glove from his hand, shaking in excitement.

            “Hoheotararuna ronderotareru! Hoheotararuna ronderotareru! Hoheotararuna rondero—” Alois spluttered and threw up blood. He gazed up at Claude, whose eyes slid to him for but a moment. “You have the eyes of someone who’s looking at maggots crawling on a fresh turd…” He collapsed.

            Claude didn’t spare Alois a look as he traced his bare hand over the blood (Y/N) had left behind on him. He gazed at the scarlet on his fingers. Reverently, he licked the blood.

            He nearly moaned at the taste.

            It was like liquid power. Magic thrummed in (Y/N)’s blood. (Y/N)’s blood was pure as a human soul’s. It whispered of a mortal life ending in revenge, in power. It betrayed the way (Y/N) took contracts that served their own, slight, morals of revenge upon those who abuse others and tipping the scale of power in the favor of those to whom it has been denied.

            It was exquisite. It was intoxicating. It was addicting.

            Claude wanted more. He needed more. He needed (Y/N) on their knees before him, ready to serve him, ready to allow him to slice their skin open to get to more of that delicious blood, the pure power of Hell and vengeful magic that coursed through their veins.

            Claude would make (Y/N) scream—in pain or pleasure. Whatever he desired.

l

            (Y/N) watched as their wounds from the threads healed. It had taken a little bit longer than usual since another immortal had used their weapons to hurt them, but with the lack of severity and time since the fight, the cuts were finally sealing.

            “(Y/N)?” Sebastian knocked softly on the door.

            (Y/N) stood and opened the door. “How is the Young Master?”

            “He is frustrated but will recover,” said Sebastian. “He is resting due to his own injuries.” His eyes scanned over the cuts in (Y/N)’s clothes and skin. “I see your own are finally healing.”

            “Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll have the uniform mended in a moment, and I’ll be clean and presentable for tomorrow,” said (Y/N).

            Sebastian stepped inside. He held a cloth and a bowl of water in one hand. “Will you…allow me to help you?”

            (Y/N) blinked, surprised. “Help me?” Their heart burned happily. Sebastian wanted to help them. “If it is no problem.”

            “It is none,” said Sebastian. He set the bowl down on the vanity, and (Y/N) sat down.

            Sebastian felt his anger at Claude rise again as he saw (Y/N)’s blood still staining their skin. He couldn’t wait to have a chance to rip Claude apart. Sebastian already avoided most demons, none were as respectable as (Y/N) in his opinion, but it was unusual even for him to wish harm on another. However, Claude had crossed too many lines, desired too much that was Sebastian’s (Y/N) wasn’t Sebastian’s and he didn’t like it but he knew they weren’t his. Sebastian wanted to destroy him.

            But now was not the time for anger. This was an opportunity for Sebastian to show he cared to be near (Y/N) to touch them to show them he desired them when would they see how deeply he wanted them he loved them.

            Sebastian soaked the cloth in water and took (Y/N)’s arm. His heart thrummed with nonexistent life at how much trust was reflected in (Y/N)’s eyes as they allowed him to touch them. They didn’t like touch, and yet they willingly sat before him and allowed him to wash the blood from their arms.

            (Y/N) watched Sebastian’s calm movements. Their undead heart thrummed as they felt his ungloved hands trace their arm. Skin against skin—they felt safe in his touch. He had always made them feel strong and secure. Dear Satan how they loved him and his touch and his respect and his honor and everything that made him Sebastian.

            “May I?”

            Sebastian didn’t want to ruin the calm and the trust (Y/N) had in him. He had washed their arms, so the only place left to clear of blood was their face. For one of the only times in his life, Sebastian wanted to ensure he didn’t go too far. He wanted to touch them in any small or gentle way, but he refused to cross (Y/N)’s boundaries. He couldn’t lose them not (Y/N) he couldn’t he couldn’t.

            “You may.”

            (Y/N) didn’t fear Sebastian’s touch. They wanted it. They wanted him to come closer. There was no warmth from his skin as he pressed the wet cloth to their cheek to wash the blood, but that didn’t change the pleasant tingle that his touch left on them. (Y/N) could have purred or pressed closer if they had less pride.

            For a moment as the last of the blood was washed away, Sebastian’s hand lingered on (Y/N)’s cheek. So many words whirled in both demons’ heads—thoughts, desires, promises—but neither spoke.

            Sebastian stood, withdrawing his hand. “Thank you for assisting in the dance today. You have no need to remain, no contract or duty, but you fought by my side. Thank you.”

            (Y/N) smiled. “Sebastian, we are friends. You know that I would not leave you on your own. Not against someone like Claude.”

            A soft smile appeared on Sebastian’s lips. “No, you would not.” He leaned forward. “And you know I would not abandon you.” For a moment, his hand flitted out and cupped their chin. “As you said, we are friends, so if you are ever in need, I will repay your loyalty in kind.”

            Then he stood and left the room, leaving both demons with a burning sensation in their skin and a strange rush of happiness, a feeling ever-so-evasive of demons, in their veins.

            (Y/N) traced their cheek where he touched them. So gentle…(Y/N) enjoyed it. But they did imagine what he could be like rougher in other…situations.

l

            Sebastian placed his cloth and bowl down in the kitchen, about to clean them, when he noticed a bit of blood resting on his fingertips. (Y/N)’s blood. He stared at it. He hesitated. He wanted to taste wanted to taste (Y/N) in every way but he didn’t want to be Claude, uncontrollable and a lecherous fiend.

            But Sebastian was no Claude. He knew that.

            His tongue flicked out as he tasted (Y/N)’s blood. Magic and Hell liquified poured onto his tastebuds, as fine as any soul. A part of Sebastian considered what this meant for Claude, how obsessive he’d become now at the addictive taste of (Y/N)’s blood, their essence, the closest thing to a human soul as a demon could have.

            But the other part of Sebastian delighted in the taste. Everything a demon craved—magic and power, the purity of a soul complete before death, vengeance and death—it all poured into (Y/N)’s blood.

            (Y/N) was sin and Hell incarnate, as worthy as any demon born from Hellfire, stronger for having lived a human life and died a human death.

            And Sebastian loved them.

Taglist:

@technikerin23

@im-making-an-effort

@izzieg3987

@jinxxangel13

@alexpangender

@otomyoli

@neenieweenie

@nex-crowley

@anxious-chick

@bellacastiel

@v1l-ismissing

@agentdedf1sh

@idkhowtoplayhoyoversegames

@iamsexytrash

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Open Circuits

I'm kickstarting the audiobook for "The Internet Con: How To Seize the Means of Computation," a Big Tech disassembly manual to disenshittify the web and make a new, good internet that picks up where the old, good internet left off. It's a DRM-free book, which means Audible won't carry it, so this crowdfunder is essential. Back now to get the audio, Verso hardcover and ebook:

http://seizethemeansofcomputation.org

Every trip to Defcon – the massive annual hacker-con in Las Vegas – is a delight. Partly it's the familiar – seeing old friends, getting updates on hacks of years gone by. But mostly, it's the surprises, the things you never anticipated. Defcon never fails to surprise.

I got back from Vegas yesterday and I've just unpacking my suitcase, and with it, the tangible evidence of Defcon's cave of wonders. My gear bag has a new essential: Hak5's malicious cable detector, a little USB gizmo that lights up if it detects surreptitious malicious activity, even as it interdicts those nasty payloads:

https://shop.hak5.org/collections/omg-row2/products/malicious-cable-detector-by-o-mg

(In case you're wondering if it's really possible to craft a malicious USB cable that injects badware into your computer and is visually indistinguishable from a regular cable, the answer is a resounding yes, and of course, Hak5 sells those cables, with a variety of USB tips:)

https://shop.hak5.org/collections/omg-row2/products/omg-cable

But merch is only a sideshow. The real action is in the conference rooms, where hackers update you on the pursuit of their obsessions. These are such beautiful weirdos who pursue knowledge to ridiculous extremes, untangling gnarly hairballs just to follow a thread to its origin point.

For the second year in a row, I caught a presentation from Joseph Gabay about his work on warshopping: slicing up shopping cart wheels and haunting shopping mall parking lots during resurfacing to figure out how the anti-theft mechanism that stops your cart from leaving the parking lot works:

https://www.begaydocrime.com/

And of course, I got to give one of those presentations, "An Audacious Plan to Halt the Internet's Enshittification," to a packed house. What a thrill! It was livestreamed, and if you missed it, you'll be able to catch it on Defcon's Youtube page as soon as they upload it (they've got a lot of uploading to do!):

https://www.youtube.com/@DEFCONConference/videos

After my talk, I went back to the No Starch Press booth for a book signing – which was amazing, so many beautiful hackers, plus I got to share a signing table with Micah Lee. As I was leaving, Bill Pollock slipped me a giant hardcover art-book, and said, "You're gonna love this."

I did. The book is Open Circuits: The Inner Beauty of Electronic Components, by Windell Oskay and Eric Schlaepfer, and it is a drop-dead gorgeous collection of photos of electronic components, painstakingly cross-sectioned and polished:

The photos illustrate layperson-friendly explanations of what each component does, how it is constructed, and why. Perhaps you've pondered a circuit board and wondered about the colorful, candy-shaped components soldered to it. It's natural to assume that these are indivisible, abstract functional units, a thing that is best understood as a reliable and deterministic brick that can be used to construct a specific kind of wall.

But peering inside these sealed packages reveals another world, a miniature land where things get simpler – and more complex. Inside these blobs of resin are snips of wire, plugs of wax, simple screws, fine sheets of metal in stacks, wafers of plain ceramic, springs and screws.

Truly, quantity has a quality all its own. Miniaturize these assemblies and produce them at unimaginable scale and the simple, legible components turn into mystical black boxes that only the most dedicated study can reveal. Like every magician's trick, the unfathomable effect is built up through the precise repetition of something very simple.

A prolonged study of Open Circuits reveals something important about the hacker aesthetic, a collection of graphic design, fashion and industrial design conventions that begins with this realization: that the crisp lines of digital logic can be decomposed into blobby, probabilistic lumps of metal, plastic, and even wax.

It reminds me of George Dyson's brilliant memoir/history of computing, Turing's Cathedral, where he describes how he and the other children of the scientists building the first digital computers at the Princeton Institute spent their summers in the basement, hand-winding cores for the early colossi their parents were building on the floors above them:

https://memex.craphound.com/2012/03/12/george-dysons-history-of-the-computer-turings-cathedral/

You can see my hacker aesthetic photos in my Defcon 31 photo set:

https://www.flickr.com/search/?sort=date-taken-desc&safe_search=1&tags=defcon31&user_id=37996580417%40N01&view_all=1

In this video, Eric Schlaepfer illustrates the painstaking work that went into decomposing these tiny, precise components into their messy, analog subcomponents. It's pure hacker aesthetic, and it's mesmerizing:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byKyJ0b04Lo

But Open Circuits isn't just an aesthetic journey, it's a technical one. After all, Oskay is co-founder of Evil Mad Scientist Labs, one of the defining places where hardware hackers gather to tear down, pick apart, mod, improve and destroy electronics. The accompanying text is a masterclass in the simple machines that combine together to make complex assemblies:

https://www.evilmadscientist.com/

Defcon is a reminder that the world only seems hermetically sealed and legible to authorized parties with clearance to crack open the box. From shopping cart wheels to thermal fuses, that illegibility is only a few millimeters thick. Sand away the glossy outer layer and you will find yourself in a weird land of wax-blobs, rough approximations, expedient choices and endless opportunities for delight and terror, mischief and care.

Back my anti-enshittification Kickstarter here!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/14/hidden-worlds/#making-the-invisible-visible-and-beautiful

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hello, I wanted to ask if you know any games where magic system isn't that diverse? I mean, I like magic but it seems in most of games everyone can have tons of different spells which is a bit overwhelming for me, so is there any game where magic user could use only one type of magic like fire, water, illusion etc?

Theme: Specific Magic

Hello friend, I've got a few games for you here. All of these games come from very different houses of design. I hope you find a fit that is right for you!

Weave, by UFO Press.

A game about fashion, travel and everyday magic. You are mages who draw power from fabric, threads and garments. Your search for mystical power will take you to new lands and new cultures.

Fall in love with a local. Drink too much at a festival. Get entangled in town politics. Summon a spirit of yarn and tradition. Bargain for power, and try not to cause irreversible harm to your host culture.

Learn responsibility.

You've lived your entire life in the enclaves of your cult - until now. As a coming-of-age rite, you're travelling the world. You'll visit new cultures, find out why they value the fashion they do, and summon the spirits of garments to learn magical secrets. You're only novices, and things won't always go well. You might fall in love, get involved in local politics, or overindulge at a festival. When you summon spirits, be careful. You might twist them into a rampaging monster, or destroy the culture's relationship with the garment. What right do you have to power?  

This is a diceless game focused on fabric-magic. The character sheet contains a series of threads dedicated to “protects”, “Conceals” “suffices” and “reveals,” as well as three abilities called Traditions. There’s also a number of areas drawn as blank graphs, for you to fill in glyphs.

I don’t own this game, so I can’t tell you how it works but the loops on the character sheet and the presence of the graphs tell me that you likely have limited resources, and you’ll also be expected to create your own magic. It looks like there’s plenty of possibilities within the magic system here, but limiting how you can use it in the form of glyphs tells me that this might be a game that is specific enough to provide limitations for creativity.

Sordid Truths of Fire, by Shouting Crow.

You are a pyromancer, an avatar of flame. Kleptothermic parasites have frozen your world.You must walk the line between fire and flame-- feeding off of and transforming into the things which feed off of your energy-- without losing your sense of self in the drifting snow.

Sordid Truths of Fire is a classless, rules-lite TTRPG. It uses a roll-under system and is basically the bastard child of games like Tunnel Goons and The Black Hack.

This game is for the OSR lovers out there. With three base stats and a roll-under mechanic, character creation is fairly simple. I especially like the events that happen when you roll a 1 or a 20. Rolling a 1 grants you burnout. A little bit of burnout isn’t too bad, but accrue too much, and cannot cast magic. You do, however, gain the features of a creature called a walking torch. Rolling a 20 grants you a point of frostbite - which also takes away your magic, and grants you the features of a monster called a Heat Vampire. You can sacrifice points in your stats to save yourself, and gain points when you roll just right. Will you burn too brightly or get snuffed out?

Nancy Druid, by 9th Level Games.

In Nancy Druid, you will play as a druid scout who solves mysteries along with a trusty animal companion! Your magic is drawn from the natural world, the day-night cycle, and the turning of the seasons.

Will you be a sun druid, who brings brightness and a warm glow to all, with the help of your scout troop's companion critter? Or will you be a moon druid, versed in all things celestial and able to transform into an animal yourself?

The Polymorph system assigns different kinds of dice to roles, based on the character you have. Your role determines what kinds of things you are more likely to succeed at, giving clear strengths and weaknesses among players. This system usually also eschews lists of abilities or catalogues of spells in favor of a special ability that expects you to fill in the blanks.

In Extremis, by Keganexe.

In Extremis is a tabletop roleplaying game designed for 2-6 players, about fighting back the man using necromancy, that uses the LUMEN system by Spencer Campbell. Inspired by The Locked Tomb trilogy, players take on the role of exceptionally powerful witches who use their mastery of life, death, and the human condition to keep them and their own safe from other planetary invaders who want to steal their land. As a Necromancer, you are one of a handful of hideously powerful death witches that protect the planet Hecate, the final holdout for The Coven, from the ever encroaching war of the Corvus Dominion. 

This is a game for feeling like a badass. Every character option uses a different kind of necromancy, but you only really need to worry about your character. You get 3 stats: Muscle, Bone and Nerve. You get a passive and active social spell, a list of combat spells, and a weapon. The setting takes place on a galaxy-wide scale, as the game is heavily inspired by Gideon the Ninth. Your source of your magic is a resource called Wells: necromancers only have so many, but the amount you have at any given time is dependant on the phase of the moon. If you want your magic to be gritty and used in high-stakes situations where death is everywhere, this is the game for you.

[asoiafcanonjonsnow]

ANNOUNCEMENT: JON SNOW FORTNIGHT EVENT 2023

Calling all fans of Jon Snow and the world of Westeros! Get ready for an exciting adventure as we are unveiling our lineup of prompts, designed to spark your creativity and take you on a journey through the captivating story of Jon Snow. 🐺⚔️✨

LIST OF PROMPTS

DAY 1: THE HUMBLE CHAMPION 🌟: Join us in celebrating Jon Snow, the unsung hero whose unwavering humility and extraordinary bravery shine brightest in the face of adversity. Let's raise our voices in admiration for his quiet greatness!

ALTERNATE PROMPT: HOUSE STARK 🐺👑: Discover the ancient ancestral ties, and the legacy he carries as a member of House Stark.

DAY 2: VEILS OF DESTINY 🔮✨: Step into the mystical realm and unravel the hidden secrets within the prophecies that shape Jon Snow's extraordinary journey. Peer through the veils and discover the intricate threads of fate that bind him.

DAY 3: MENTORS AND MENTORSHIP 🤝🧙‍♂️: Explore the wise guides who shape Jon Snow's path, offering invaluable guidance along his journey. Alternatively, delve into his transformative role as a mentor, empowering others to reach their full potential.

ALTERNATE PROMPT: RIPPLES OF INFLUENCE 🌊🌟: Follow the far-reaching impact of Jon Snow's choices as they create powerful ripples of change, shaping the lives and destinies of other characters in unexpected ways. Every decision carries weight!

DAY 4: UNSUNG CONNECTIONS 🔍🧩: Illuminate the hidden ties and underrated parallels that bind Jon Snow with unexpected characters and storylines. Uncover the surprising connections that add depth and richness to his journey.

ALTERNATE PROMPT: FAIRYTALE TWISTS 🧚‍♂️✨: Explore Jon's parallels with Disney princesses. After all Jon Snow-White, the Cinderella who has been slumbering like a Sleeping Beauty in eternal sleep for 12 years is our OG Disney Princess of Westeros.

DAY 5: MYSTICAL BONDS ✨🐺: Immerse yourself in the enchanting ties that bind Jon Snow to the mystical elements of the world. Explore his extraordinary connections and powers, from his profound bond with Ghost to prophetic dreams and an annoying raven who will not stop calling him King.

DAY 6: SHADOWS OF HEROISM 🌑🌟: Unmask Jon Snow's hidden strength as he emerges as a force for change and inspiration, even in the depths of shadows where his authority might not be recognized. Witness his leadership skills shining through the darkness.

DAY 7: FOILS AND ADVERSARIES ⚔️🦹‍♂️: Embark on an insightful exploration of Jon Snow's formidable foils and adversaries, delving into the dynamics of conflict and the growth they inspire. Discover the challenges that mold his character.

DAY 8: FEAR AND TRAUMA 😔: Plunge into the depths of Jon Snow's fears and confront the lasting effects of his harrowing experiences as a bastard in a prejudiced world of Westeros.

DAY 9: WISHES AND HOPES 🌠✨: Explore what are Jon's deepest desires and dreams.

DAY 10: ECHOES OF THE PAST 🗝️📜: Uncover the echoes of history and mythology reverberating through Jon Snow's story. Explore the parallels that Jon Snow shares with various historical figures.

DAY 11: DEFENDER OF REALMS ⚔️🌍: Stand alongside Jon Snow as he unwaveringly defends the realms of men against unimaginable threats. Delve into the conflicts between duty and love, and witness the impact of his choices.

DAY 12: HOUSE TARGARYEN 🐉🏰: Embark on a captivating exploration of Jon Snow's Targaryen heritage, unraveling the intricate tapestry that weaves him into the legacy of this mighty house. Discover the profound implications it holds for his destiny.

DAY 13: PATHS LESS TRAVELED 🚶‍♂️🌄: Blaze new trails with Jon Snow as he defies expectations, forges unique paths, and leaves an indelible mark on the world. Follow his unconventional choices as he transforms systems under his leadership.

DAY 14: WHEN REALMS CONVERGE 🤝🌍: Engage in speculative wonder as we ponder the eagerly awaited meetings between Jon Snow and other significant characters, or enthralling encounters with his siblings and individuals of profound wisdom. Brace yourself for the collision of diverse worlds, where secrets are unveiled and unforeseen truths come to light. Jon could find himself in the company of those long departed.

ALTERNATE PROMPT: DREAM OF SPRING 🌷🌱: Immerse yourself in the vibrant world of spring as we explore the captivating motif that runs through Jon Snow's story. Discover how this motif weaves its way into Jon Snow's journey and signifies his efforts of trying to win over darkness.

DAY 15: ENDING SPECULATIONS 📚: Indulge in wild speculation as we ponder the potential outcomes and endings for Jon Snow's story.

ALTERNATE PROMPT: FREE CHOICE 🔍: Exercise your free choice and explore the limitless possibilities that lie beyond the realm of imagination!

Get ready to unleash your creativity and dive into the captivating world of Jon Snow! Share your thoughts, artwork, and interpretations using the hashtag #JonSnowFortnightEvent2023. Let the adventure begin!

[lovepeaceandtarot]

Welcome to this tarot corner called Love, Peace and Tarot!

Discover your destiny with my Tarot divinations!

Hello, beautiful souls! I am your personal Tarot guide to help you through all of life's twists and turns. Whether you are looking for clarity, guidance or a glimpse into the future, my tarot sessions are designed to light your path and empower your decisions.

Why choose me?

With a successful background in Tarot card reading, I combine intuition with a deep knowledge of the archetypes and meanings behind each card. I don't just tell you what you want to hear; I provide honest insights that resonate with your unique journey - because you deserve truth, not just comfort.

Exclusive offer!

As a special thank you for your trust and recommendations, I'm excited to introduce the “Recommend 3, Get 1 Free” campaign! Recommend me to three friends and you will receive a free Tarot reading. It's a win-win: your friends get amazing insights and you get to explore your own journey for FREE!

Book your reading today!

Don't wait any longer to uncover the secrets that await you. Contact me to arrange a reading or for more information about this exciting offer. Let's embark on this mystical journey together and find the clarity you've been seeking for so long!

My price

Types of fortune-telling, prices and rules of Tarot fortune-telling

Types of fortune-telling:

- Divination on love life - from 35$ - 45$ / 35€-45€ (The price is such because this reading takes more time and energy. I need to tune in to a certain flow to give you information from the guides).

- Professional life reading - 30$ - 40$ / 30€-40€

- Reading about financial life - 20$ - 30$ / 20€-40€

- Questions (up to 3 questions) - 10$ - 15$ / 10€-15€ (Depends on the scope of the question. The more complex the questions, the higher the price).

- General reading (orientation, love, professional and financial life) - 50$ - 70$ / 50€ / 70€ (The price is so high because this reading takes a lot of time and energy, much more than other readings. I need to tune into a certain flow to give you information from the guides).

Attention! Rules:

- I only accept money before the reading.

- I do not accept questions or even read about betrayal.

- I do not read about celebrities. No disrespect and be open, receptive and open-minded.

- Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t resonate for you.

Follow the rules and be happy.

If anyone disagrees with the price, understand, tarot readings require very deep concentration, energy and time. I offer a fair exchange.

Remember: your destiny is in your hands, and I'm here to help you turn it around!

You can find me on tik tok, instagram and threads:

Tik tok: https://www.tiktok.com/@lovepeaceandtarot

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lpeaceandtarot

Threads: https://www.threads.net/@lpeaceandtarot

[elystelleven]

So I've finally finished the update, and this is all I have to say.

Oh my god.

OH MY FUCKING GOD.

I don't think I've ever been so on the edge of my seat over a game like this. The FACT that the episode itself is paced slower is already a good sign... but for it to go down THIS route?! I can't believe it man. Oh my god.

Here's everything I liked about this update:

1: the writing itself. It's clear from the get go that narrative-wise, the devs wanted to branch out after that underwhelming anniversary update. The story was experimental in the way it handled rather mature topics for what's otherwise a kiddie game. The topic of plagues, loss, resilience, and even existentialism and mortality are brought up, and perfectly blend well with Cacao's development. The references to Buddhism were a treat too! Simply *chef's kiss* that's all I have to say.

2: Mystic Flour Cookie. I came into this episode expecting her to be another typical shallow stoic villain, but turned out to be WAAAAAAY more than that.

Her entire domain was just beautifully designed and it's safe to say she may be one of the best written villains in the entire franchise. The story succeeds at showing off how intimidating she truly can be but doesn't shy away from the nuances of her philosophy. Her interactions with Dark Cacao solidify this even more, exposing what appears to be HIS personal drawbacks to the audience that all turned out to be portrayed in her own lens. The voice acting was the cherry on top and I applaud the VA for doing such a successful job! Now I'm infatuated with her even more! My girl really out here helping me discover my love for characters like her and White Lily <3

3: Dark Cacao and the rest of the cast. Remember when I talked about his personal drawbacks and how they're exaggerated to a certain degree? Well APPARENTLY, the devs finally discovered how to thread it all and used those flaws as a driving force for his character growth! I find it extremely clever especially with how it coincides with his themes of resolution. The plot twists and *those* scenes were DELECTABLE, I was at the edge of my seat this whole time as I progressed!

The old dumpling people, despite only appearing for a short while, were quite a delight to meet. They only had a minimal ounce of screen time but I can already see their personalities shining through! Peach Blossom was adorable as well but I wished we got to know a little more about him.

Overall? This update may have stirred up some controversy in the Cookie Run community, but hey! At least its story definitely exceeded my expectations.

The hype was worth it. 9/10. It's definitely up there with Golden Cheese as one of my favorite story arcs.

[doamarierose-honoka]

What is it about an often-hungry and kind of lazy panda who is obsessed with kung fu that has resonated with audiences worldwide?

The Kung Fu Panda franchise — now 16 years old and four films in — centers on Po (Jack Black) who, along with his friends (voiced by a star-studded cast including Angelina Jolie, Lucy Liu, Seth Rogan and Jackie Chan), goes on adventures spanning the mystical and spiritual.

"I think people love pandas and people love kung fu, and we've got a combination," Black tells ABC News.

"The art is so great, I think we've got the best animators in the world. It's kind of like a dance between the voice acting, and these animators who've completed the performance."

For those who haven't seen the films, Po is the designated "Dragon Warrior", a kind of legendary Chosen One who can wield limitless power.

The first film focused on him figuring out who he wanted to be; he discovered more about his parents in the sequel, Kung Fu Panda 2; while Kung Fu Panda 3 saw him begin to pass on his skills to a new generation of panda cubs.

In the latest film, Master Shifu (Dustin Hoffman) wants Po to become the new Spiritual Leader of the Valley of the Peace, so Po must choose and anoint someone else as the new Dragon Warrior.

While Jolie, Chan and Liu don't return for this film, Bryan Cranston and James Hong reprise their roles as Po's dads. And rapper and actor Awkwafina joins the cast as Zhen, a fox burglar who crosses paths with Po during one of her thieving sprees.

When a shape-shifting sorcerer known as the Chameleon (Viola Davis) and her criminal network make themselves known, Po and Zhen team up to prevent her from getting her hands on the panda's staff of wisdom (which the Chameleon plans to use to summon Po's enemies back from the spirit realm).

"Zhen and Po are like the odd couple of the kung fu world, and it was exciting to explore their differences and watch them grow together," says Awkwafina.

"Zhen brings this scrappy, streetwise energy to the story, challenging Po in unexpected ways."

A mix of East and West

The humour and story of Kung Fu Panda is a part of why the films have charmed audiences globally.

The film series has also proven to be a massive hit in China, a highly lucrative but notoriously difficult market for Hollywood films to succeed in, because of limits the country places on foreign and Western films.

Plot threads often blend aspects of South-East Asian culture, like filial piety and duty to family, with more universal themes of working with others and having the confidence to forge your own path.

Awkwafina says it has meant a lot to her to see the franchise pay homage to Chinese culture.

"I think when [Kung Fu Panda] first came out, there wasn't a lot of movies that really took place [there], exemplifying those cultural traditions in that world," she says.

"So I'm really proud that it existed and to be a part of it now."

Black adds: "You know, any community that feels under-represented, one of the greatest ways to open up the stories to the world is to get creative.

"The ones that you've never heard before are often the most amazing ones."

The latest Kung Fu Panda also comes off the back of other successful animated films like Turning Red and Elemental, which explored similar themes of responsibility and loyalty, and growing up as part of an immigrant family.

"Those I really enjoyed, and I love Kung Fu Panda because they explore what it means to be a kid, have anxiety and what it means to be human I think in a way that's really unique," says Awkwafina.

"And I [want to] just continue watching stories that do that."

Into the future

Both actors say they related to the simple central message — to believe in yourself — that plays out across all the films.

"I definitely can think about certain times in my life, in my career, where I didn't believe in myself," Black says.

"Someone else gave me confidence and believed in me, and then I was able to push through my insecurities, and those moments and those people who gave me that strength mean so much to me, so I relate to it in that way."

Awkwafina adds, "I think it's hard to know when you're doing something right. It's hard to believe in yourself and Jack is right. It does take people to have to help you sometimes."

In terms of their characters' futures, Awkwafina says she wants Po and Zhen to "live, laugh, love".

"I'd like to see Po get even more spiritual," says Black.

"To somehow master the art of meditation and be able to create some inner peace."

Awkwafina jokingly adds: "I want to stop stealing, and we enter a program."