#ok but seriously he was very fun to sketch and I hope you like him

[ioser-boy]

Hello (⁠◔⁠‿⁠◔⁠)

I saw your post and I was wondering if you could draw my phighting oc

Here's the reference

Draw whatever you want with him

And maybe if you want to, you could draw him with your OC too. It's up to you

okay sorry this took so long i started dying

also?? for some reason procreate just?? cropped this weirdly?? and it will not let me fix it :cry:

anyways i absolutely love his design and he was super fun to doodle :)

(extras under cut)

procreate did not want to cooperate with me on thsi one

(that might be my fault though theres like 15 other drawings on that same canvas,,, uhm,,)

[greensagephase]

Alondra, I loved the Thanksgiving Nonviolent Communication Drabble!! This was just so sweet to read, especially with seeing Miguel and readers' friendship really show now that they’re starting to feel more comfortable being with one another. The fact they have dinner every Saturday now!! 🥹 and when Miguel can’t help but smile when he sees reader working with him 😭 and when he blushes a bit when reader compliments him and his cooking! its just too cute!! I can't help but say thank you every time you include the coffee cup detail, I just smile so much when I read it! The whole interaction of them trying to ask each other to have dinner with one another for Thanksgiving??!! I was giggling so much reading that, too cute! and Lyla just absolutely helping with the conversation 😂 I love how their conversations have also gotten more causal, in the way that they banter more, Miguel smiling more!! I also just love their friendship!!

The messages with the gang was so cute too, and omg this line “The whole government name...” from Hobie when Miguel finally responds 🤣 but the fact Miguel was actually open to invite everyone over for dinner too 🥹 I love how we're seeing him open up a bit more now that he's really trying to change for the better, and its just so nice seeing it come into fruition slowly. I’m so happy that Miguel is making so many new wonderful memories in his penthouse!! I keep mentioning this but I smile so much every time they say “always” to each other, I’ll never get over it! ❤️

The conversation with Peter B- first I love the way you write him too, you capture his personality really well! and just- he knows that this friendship between you and Miguel is special 🥹 and I know he's rooting for them too!! ok and the reference to Lyla's secret stash of photos 😂 of course they're appropriate photos only, right? (I love how you write Lyla too! her little quips with Miguel is always funny!!) The ending of this was really sweet too, despite Miguel holding back still with physical touch, the day that one of them comforts the other physically- I'm going to freak out (in a good way) but I still love the slowburn of it all!! I can't wait to read more and see their friendship evolve!!! I hope this doesn’t sound too cheesy but I’m thankful for coming across your story on here and just- thank you everything, and for continuing to write Nonviolent Communication, especially with how busy it can be this time of year!! Thank you, Alondra!!! ❤️✨

I couldn't help but sketch these out from this part right away!! no seriously I loved all these moments, and Miguel in the apron 👀

Hi @sunsetdoodler !! I'm so happy you loved the drabble!! I had a lot of fun writing this for different reasons, one being I just wanted a sweet and comforting moment for Thanksgiving with Miguel. Then it was also fun because it's very lighthearted compared to what I've been writing for part 11. On top of that, it was fun thinking about what their friendship looked like at this point of the year when part 11 takes place 4+ months before. Lowkey feel sad I didn't get part 11 out before then because now we'll have to jump back in time 😮‍💨 but AHH I loved the progress in their friendship and as you said, how much more casual their conversations are on top of the fact they have dinner every Saturday (I just love it so much!!). Also, Miguel throughout this entire drabble was SUCH A TREAT. I loved writing him looking at reader behind his shoulder and smiling; blushing when reader compliments him; and him cooking all of dinner (I also loved including that he had already bought everything 😭). And omg, the coffee cup detail!! I will include it as many times as I can because I love it even though it's such a small thing but so important!! Haha, the part with them talking in unison to ask each other about dinner and Lyla knowing what's going and just taking the opportunity to tease them- I had to!! I don't include Lyla a lot in the main parts but I wanted to for this and it was so much fun adding her teasing to the drabble (especially her clapping at the end for them and Miguel telling her to shut up!!

Also, the messages from the gang! I had so much fun with those! You can tell because I even went in and color coded them as much as I could with the colors Tumblr has to their assigned colors; my favorite one to do was Hobie's for the inconsistency! 🤣 The "full government name" line - the way I knew I needed to include that and have Hobie say it! Definitely one of my favorite things about this drabble, not gonna lie! I also love that Miguel found it amusing! Regarding Miguel being open to inviting them, SAME! Once again, it was fun to think of where Miguel is at months in advance (seriously, I'm upset I didn't put part 11 out sooner) and have him being open to inviting them to his home and making a new memory in his penthouse (I just want this man to feel happy in his own home, I swear 😭)! And their little "Always"! I've been feeling like maybe I'm including it too much but I love it so much because it's theirs, just for each other, so I'll just continue using it.

I'm so happy you liked Peter B's conversation and the way I wrote him! I was actually nervous about it because I haven't included much dialogue for the other spider members and I always like to keep it as close as possible to how I think they'd actually speak. So, I was literally writing that part yesterday and playing around with the structure of his statement to see what made sense while hearing Jake Johnson's voice in my head (I didn't mind it one bit because I love him but it was kind of funny I was sitting there writing this in between breaks while cooking with my family lol)! But yes, he knows it's a special friendship and he's definitely rooting for them (so is Mayday, hehe 😌)! As to Lyla's secret stash of photos - we can only hope but we're not too sure right now. Miguel has tried to look for the file but can't find it so I guess only time will tell 😂 but omg, no, writing Lyla for this drabble was so much fun, I swear! I wish I could include her more in the main series but most times reader and Miguel are having serious conversations and so it just doesn't feel right to include her sassiness but maybe now that reader and Miguel are more casual with each other, that might change! And thank you, it seriously makes me so happy that you like the way I wrote her and Peter B.!

Omg, Miguel thinking about physical touch and that whole little part just made me wish we were there already but we must remain strong! It's coming soon but not yet. I already have that part planned out and just thinking about it makes me want to scream in a good way because before we get to that good screaming part there's gonna be sad screaming and that's all I'm going to say about that but just know - reader and Miguel having intentional and full on physical contact is coming soon!!!

And @sunsetdoodler 🥺🥺 I'm thankful this story found you because you're seriously one of my fav moots! I genuinely love interacting with you whenever we get the chance to! And no need to thank me 😭but I will try my best! I wish I could've posted part 11 sooner but I've been busy decorating the exterior of my home for Christmas, which I'm not even done with lol! But thank you so much for the lovely and kind words as always!!

AND NOW LET ME TALK ABOUT THESE SKETCHES!!!! The ones with them facing each other and the visibly height difference on top of the EYE CONTACT JHDGLK (God knows I couldn't handle that but for Miguel O'Hara I will certainly try my best 🫡) - DEAD!! The way Miguel's face is so soft and he just has this look of adoration for her and just AHHH HE'S SOFT FOR READER with his raised eyebrows but then the way his face changes with Lyla when he tells her to shut up!!! SO CUTE OMG!! Then Miguel's somewhat amused expression as he reads Hobie's message (I didn't mention this earlier but I couldn't stop thinking about their interaction in ATSV when Miguel meets Miles and he's getting on to Gwen and Hobie and he tells Hobie, "I'm just gonna try and ignore you - I just can't - I can't even-" pretty sure he says "I can't even look at you"(?) at the end and Hobie's response! I like to think they still keep this kind of interaction but it's more friendly now especially with reader being what ties them together lol)! AND THEN MIGUEL IN AN APRON!!!! No because why does Miguel wearing an apron sound so comforting to me???? AND HIM DRYING HIS HANDS - I swear I'm delusional for going mad over the most basic things ever but AHHHH!! Thank you for drawing these sketches and showing them to me!!!! I LOVE EACH ONE SO MUCH 😭❤️ Also, I love Lyla at the top just watching this unfold hehe, I swear I need to include her more in the main parts but THANK YOU SO MUCH @sunsetdoodler !!!!! Also, I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving and that you found the time to relax a bit this week despite having so many projects! Thankfully the semester will be over soon and you can truly relax!!! Sending you a warm virtual hug and wishing you the best as you enter the last few weeks of the semester! You got this!!! ✨❤️✨

-Alondra

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Some replies! Surprisingly, a lot of replies about boys sharing and not sharing boyfriends with each other +  some longer old ones about fandom stuff.

Anonymous asked:

I LOVE CODE GEASS. GRWHSBDHURBFUHHDNUSJ

(related to this post)

IT’S VERY GOOD, ANON!! Unfortunately, I was in my potato phase art-wise back then, and this is like the worst title to fanart when you have a roundish potato-like goofy-looking (unintentionally) artstyle, so I can’t even look at my sketches from that time. But we’re definitely going to rewatch it again at some point, and then I’ll draw CC a lot…

Anonymous asked:

Just saw your reply the other day about RookVil (my other favourite ship) and this is exactly how I see it too. Two people who are private enough that only those in their circle really know them, and yet they've opened up to each other and found something special, there's real trust between them. I love them and I wish I had somewhere I could gush loudly about them (other than my long-suffering non-twst friends, my fandom friends aren't so keen so i stay quiet). I love your stuff, all of it, even the stuff I don't get because it's in a fandom I don't know. I'll shut up, but thank you for all the RookVil ❤️

(this is about this post)

Thank you so much for liking our stuff, Anon, I am so happy to hear that you enjoy it even if it’s unfamiliar fandom! I am also happy you feel that way about RookVil. I’ve said it multiple times already, but it wouldn’t hurt to say it again: they’re amazing together.

I hope you find someone to scream into all your love for them, but also feel free to send another ask when you feel like it. As long as I can add something, I’ll reply!

Anonymous asked:

I actually enjoy being in the mountains m, they’re peaceful. Jade, if you ruin that for me, I’m sacrificing you to the mountain gods and throwing you off the nearest cliff ૮( ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ )ა

Mountains are great, Anon! Jade would never dare to disrupt the peace… but also I am not entirely sure he would be opposed to being sacrificed to the mountain gods, to be honest lol

Anonymous asked:

Lilia, the only tickle he feels “down there” is the tickle of dread and terror.

(this is related to this comic)

Indeed…  but it still tickles, right? >w< Isn’t it fun???

Anonymous asked:

Ok ok ok.

Now I've got ideas about Lilia and making plans to mess with Idia to get Ortho all riled up so Lilia can watch Idia get even more flustered.

Like, Lilia and Idia are playing games and Ortho's all jealous, so Lilia intentionally says stuff that'll both make Idia flustered and Ortho more jealous.

And then it eventually leads to Lilia getting to witness Ortho trying to get Idia's attention any way he can. (either by listening through headphones or he's actually in the same room)

Your art gives me so many ideas and I love it.

Very cheeky of Lilia to do it, but also of course he would be into seeing just how possessive Ortho can get with Idia. Ortho isn’t even supposed to eavesdrop on them or watch them play together, but Lilia would somehow always be aware of that from the moment he learns who he is playing with lol

I feel like Lilia likes making people jealous in general. Watching someone get angry and try to win someone over or get their attention is always super amusing, but with the Shrouds? With the added layer of Ortho being a needy younger brother that doesn’t want to share Idia with him? Amazing.

Anonymous asked:

I need to ask, do you guys ever think about 2 tops putting it in at the same time in someone?

Idia could take it? Right ? 👀

Idia could take much more than Idia himself thinks… he should believe in himself! <3 You go, Idia!

But to answer your question, yes absolutely we think about it, even though with some of the boys’ sizes it seems physically impossible… but nothing is impossible if you try hard enough!

Seriously though, Idia would be so shocked when he realises that both of them are currently inside: 50% panicked and 50% aroused.

I would love to put all of our bottoms through this fate, but the ones that are more likely to be able to handle it are Silver (wouldn’t hear a peep of complaining from him, just eagerness to please), Jamil (just as shocked and aroused as Idia) and Deuce (too horny and barely understanding what’s going on). Riddle would be so hot though with how tiny he is…

I always think about the tweels when we discuss this particular topic, but Lilia and Ortho are a surprisingly good team~ At times they might be even a better team than the Tweels because Floyd turns it into a competition sometimes.

Anonymous asked:

Don't remember if you had a similar ask to this, but how about twst boys that have multiple partners/ships where one gives advice on the best way to please their shared partner? Like, I can imagine floyd trying to get trey to squeeze riddle too because trust me, he likes a lot.

Good question, Anon! In theory, it could be something for Floyd to tell Trey (because Riddle likes it A LOT…), but I also feel like Floyd is surprisingly possessive when it comes to Riddle. Something has to click in a certain way in his brain to go that route; somehow sharing this information with Sea Turtle feels like a waste… if he didn’t figure out by now that this is how Goldfishie wants to be treated, well too bad!

The tweels would talk to each other though, and even though it isn’t necessarily giving each other advice, they would discuss sex in details sometimes, sharing experiences, so to speak.

I feel like those who are the most likely to give advice in this way are Lilia and Rook. But for some reason I always picture it as something unsolicited with these two lol

I think Lilia gives lots of advice to Sebek about both Silver and Malleus, and Sebek is always super flustered and surprised at first, but he still ends up applying everything… he had no idea his liege would enjoy having his horns bitten…

But Sebek isn’t the only one that gets to listen to Lilia’s advice. He hinted at some of Idia’s weak spots to Azul a couple of times, both to help out and to tease him. Azul always gets super jealous but tries to hide it behind smiling and thanking Lilia for looking out for his and Idia-san’s relationship.

Basically, no one is safe from Lilia’s sex advice. He is here to help out! And to watch everyone blush and panic lol

Rook sometimes gives advice about someone he doesn’t even sleep with, but he still has this information somehow. It actually caused some pretty bad misunderstandings in the past. He really should stop sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong.

Anonymous asked:

Hey Ryu! It's been a while since I sent you an ask, I just wanted to drop by to tell you that your art is amazing and it gets better everyday! And also to praise you for being one of the very few people in the fandom to explore the twst characters dark side? Idk if it makes sense, but I keep seeing fandom puritans that are sadly spreading more around in the twst fandom portray them as these poor little helpless teens who do nothing wrong and it's hilarious because they're villains? A lot of them are morally grey, some of them borderline villainous (like the Leech twins imo) and they're also teenagers. When I saw your comic about Floyd squashing a fairy out of sheer fun and curiosity, I was all "yes, yes, this the kind of twst content I like!!". I'm not trying to say that fluff isn't allowed because I love me some good fluff of my OTPs, but I think we can enjoy "soft" twst content while acknowledging that these boys are the worst lmao. They're teens and also villains, of course they're gonna be cruel, of course they're gonna be manipulative, of course they're going to gangbang someone in revenge (ye I'm taking about that Fellow art, good shit! Tbh I could see them doing that or beating him to a pulp at the end of playful land). And also they're gonna explore their sexuality. I don't know why fandom nowadays is so hell-bent on saying "don't make art of teens fucking" when... Teens fuck, a lot lol, and villain teens? I think they go at it in any place of the school. (And they're fictional ffs, they don't even act as normal teens). Sometimes I wish Yana had full creative control so she'd give us some more dark content without The Rat™ holding her back, but you're doing god's (Yana's) work so keep going at it. I enjoy your art, and I enjoy that you feed us daily. I hope my ask made sense lol, have a good start of the week, both you and Katsu!

Anon! Sorry so much for the late reply, and thank you SO MUCH for saying that my art gets better and for all the praise in general! I am very happy you like our stuff, and especially that fairy comic! Sometimes I feel like I went to dark there but then I remember that it was literally inspired by one of Floyd’s voice lines lol

Everyone has their own preference, and I agree that fluff has a right to exist, and even we post some pretty fluffy stuff sometimes despite not liking it at all. But you are also right, there is such a lack of darker content, considering how dark the game is and how bad the boys are. Especially the tweels! Katsu and I love darker themes, and a lot of times we make the characters worse than they actually are and come up with some messed-up headcanons, and we do it for twst too, but I feel like the majority of things that we write and draw for twist are like… already in twst. It’s either hinted at or implied, or even straight-up said; and this is why we love it so much. They really are bad people, they really are villains, and some of them are legit monsters.

As for the teens having sex, yeah everyone has their own pace and no one should be rushed to do anything, but it’s silly to argue with the fact that teens do in fact experiment sexually, and it’s a natural thing to do. The absolute majority of us has been there in one way or another. And I find it funny when people forget about it, you know? That sometimes (a lot of times, more often than people think) fictional teens fucking is a reflection of one’s own experiences, thoughts, desires, fears and feelings from back then, combined with their favourite characters’ dynamic with each other, put in a hypothetical situation that has nothing to do with them or with real life whatsoever, and still has this vague and often subconscious emotional link. This isn’t always the case, but yeah that’s the whole point: it doesn’t matter. It’s fiction, therefore any idea can be explored.

Especially if we’re talking about an all-boys school filled with a bunch of angry horny delinquents that is NRC lol

Thank you once again for such a sweet message, and sorry for replying so late. We really appreciate everything you’ve said…

PS. Reading Yana’s censorship-free version of twst would be such a blast oh my god

Anonymous asked:

Hey ryuichi, have you ever noticed the difference between the EN Twst fandom and the JP Twst fandom? The EN Twst fandom is mostly  80% made out of Antis, unfortunately, so out of curiosity, i decided to see what the JP Twst fandom is up too (Mainly one Twitter, privatter and poipiku) and it's so peaceful over there?! Everyone is so supportive and friendly. No one is calling out anything "problematic" in my experience, which makes me think most of them know the difference between reality and fiction.

That being said, I feel so bad for them and the way they were treated. So many talented people have been harassed and bullied out of the fandoms. It’s disgusting to see. (Like in general, not necessarily Twst related). I'm against all morality policing. It's so frustrating to see a lot of Japanese artists on Twitter being harassed for the way they depict characters (skin colour, bust size, body shape). I've also seen a lot of antis trying to justify racism against asians because "Japan's a nation of pedos anyway." Because nothing beats imagined racism like actual hardcore racism.

The best part? Japanese fandom is learning about the anti/proshipping discourse! Basically, they've started to call antis "American Yakuza feelings," which is so fitting if you ask me, lol. And I notice that anti's are removing "proship dni" rapidly because the Japanese fandoms blocking them. Imagine giving up your "highly moral value" for some Japanese fanart. I mean, in the end, they got what they wanted "Proship DNI" and didn't expect the Japanese fandoms to have more common sense and media literacy than any other EN fandom out there.

Anyway, I love your art, mwah 💋

Hi Anon!

Yeah, the difference between JP and EN fandoms has always been surprising. You might have seen the post with the list of our fandoms throughout the years, and I was thinking whether I should note that by “fandoms” we just mean “titles we are into” and not being a part of any actual group of people… I didn’t end up writing it, but the point is, we were barely a part of any actual fandom all these years exactly because of this social climate. Just posting things from time to time without participating anywhere and talking to someone else felt much more comfortable. Twst (+ shingeki a couple of years ago) is the closest thing we’ve ever had to being a part of a fandom, and it’s solely because there are so many chill people there who are willing to have fun and indulge in weird ideas. People who are here for the characters and their interactions, you know?

I am sure that JP fandom has its own issues, and I would actually really love to learn more about it, but one thing we can all say for certain is that they really respect boundaries. The “live and let live” culture is very important in fandoms, and I wish EN fandoms would have it too. The only thing one really needs is to warn about posting possibly upsetting things and have disclaimers for those who don’t want to see this type of content, and after that the artist isn’t really responsible if someone clicked on it/scrolled the page despite the warnings and got upset. I like it a lot. I am super grateful and happy to be able to communicate with JP artists even if it’s just through mutual likes and occasional comments, and I am super grateful and happy that the EN people we have around us are supportive and don’t tolerate any bullshit.

It really is heartbreaking when an artist is being harassed. No one should be harassed, but when someone who doesn’t talk English is getting ambushed or shittalked by the antis that just have nothing better to do, it’s super shitty.

Actually, I won’t mince my words on this particular topic: people should stop harassing creators and treating them as jesters to throw tomatoes at. It’s pathetic when people shit on an artist for shipping Vil and Neige, it’s disgusting when people mistranslate manga and spread rumors that cause creators to feel helpless because they can’t address this shit, it’s sickening when people shit on Yana for taking a break and drawing shorter chapters. This isn’t exactly the theme of the post, but as I was thinking about it, I got angry again lol Such ungrateful fucks.

Anyways! I agree that it is hilarious that JP artist block “proship dni” people on sight now, the only bad thing about it is that it’s more difficult to find these people now that they’re removing this phrase from their bio. And I thought it was their badge of honor, how come how come…

eh-nonnie-mouse asked:

Sorry, this ask is a bit unhinged with how much stuff I tried to cram into it. I wanted to get this off my chest and feel free not to respond to this, since your response seemed pretty chill. I got a little annoyed at how I have seen a couple people asking for more 'content' in the past month and it has been bugging me. But I have also been wanting to comment on your cute Sebek art and bully him.

To the anons who ask tersely for more 'content' without helping create a dialogue to work from,

I don't think you meant it that way, or I hope you didn't mean for it to sound like a demand. Head cannons and art take time to think up. It's not just something that is generated (and yes I am using this word on purpose) out of nothing. Creativity is fueled by a give and take between fans and Ryu and Katsu's enjoyment of a fandom. If you want more of something, try reaching out with a comment or start a discussion on something you liked about the character. They are both people and not machines pushing out stuff for you to consume. Especially since they are sharing their hard work for free.(discounting Ko-Fi, but tip your artist anyway. They all deserve it for their work.)

Now I would like to gush about Sebek and his cute little blush and lipstick mark from a certain fae. (and maybe about the new Fellow and Gidel art.)

Sebek baby!!! He looks so blissed out I bet he came in his pants a little (please just a little as a treat💦). Mal Mal so mean to him. I love the poses and how you can only see Malleus's arm and how Sebek is leaning into the touch for more. The expression of pure want. OMG, what if Malleus kissed him as a consolation for not sitting in his lap and now Sebek can't move cause he's got a raging boner. (OR HE DOES AND EVERY ONE IGNORES HIM BECAUSE WHO DOESN'T KNOW HIS REFERENT LOVE FOR LORD MALLEUS 🤣)

I only plan on NA server and have seen some spoilers for the Playful Land Event, but Fellow looks so conniving and shady lol. Gidel looks so cute trying to concentrate on what to write. Does he do the tongue sticking out thing when hes thinking really hard and does he know how to write or is it just indecipherable scribbles that Fellow just nods and goes "Yep, those be words, totally."

Also totally unrelated to either of those pics, who is the anon who posted about Silver sleeping around and calling people Daddy. I just wanna talk, about how hilarious the whole thing would be. Please, I don't bite. Just a little feral about freaky stuff. (And gods you two had an AMAZING response. I don't feel like I could add more but thots go brrrrr.)

SORRY FOR REPLYING SO LATE AAAHHH YOU ARE SO KIND THANK YOU SO MUCH!

It does bother us when people ask for more content or for some specific content, but I always try to assume that it’s just the phrasing issue… which doesn’t necessarily make things better considering that we post like 5 things per day if we’re counting all of our accounts lol We also always try not to post the same characters all the time, Katsu especially makes effort to ensure that our posting is still fun and fresh for both people following us and us too. My replies usually sound nicer than they probably should because sometimes in this way I can address other people in case they’ve been wondering about the same thing or at least to explain things to them. That + a firm belief that people really don’t mean to sound rude, although from time to time both Katsu and I snap in our replies lol poor anons...

So I really appreciate you supporting us! You are absolutely right: enjoyment is the main thing that keeps us posting, not any obligation. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: we would have stopped posting twst after like 1 week of posting if we didn’t get support; we never anticipated that it would become such a huge thing for us. Let’s enjoy it as much and as long as we can without making it feel like a job.

I am so happy you liked that Sebek sketch!! <3 He really did come in his pants a little from that smooch lol Malleus is a tease and he knows it. If this is consolation for not sitting in his lap… damn that Sebek boy is lucky :”( lol poor people at Noble Bell looking at this lost and smitten horny boy.

You also absolutely nailed the dynamic on that Gidel+Fellow sketch lol this is exactly what it is. I hope you enjoy these two when you finally get to play this event!

[theonevoice]

Two halves of the same being

Ok friends, it had to happen sooner or later: I wrote a thing. I was stuck in a train station yesterday evening and this thing was screaming to be put on paper, so I did it. I wrote it all down directly as a post, over 3-4 hours of total estrangement, therefore I don't even know exactly how long it is, and it is probably encrusted with typos and titanic grammatical errors. It is also written in a language that I don't master at all, and it is my first attempt at narration since - I kid you not - the year of our lord 2006. This is really less then a draft, it's a test-drive of the storytelling side of my hyperfixated brain. If someone feels like skimming it and pointing out mistakes and things that sound wrong, I will be very grateful! Anyway, as far as fanfic genres go, I guess this would qualify as historical-minisode one shot: Aziraphale and Crowley are in Rome in 1509 and get more or less accidentally involved in the creation of a certain Renaissance masterpiece.

November 1509, Rome.

The heavy robe swooshed quietly as a white-blonde bishop entered the chapel door with a satisfied smile, like a man who had just escaped boredom for fun.

A man in a leather apron full of pockets and stained all over was standing at a cluttered table by the wall, staring gloomily at the figures sketched on a large sheet of brownish paper.

- Maestro!

The man raised his curly dark-haired head and pointed a pair of firey eyes on the newcomer. The dark circles around his eyes gave out the strange impression of a feverish man on the verge of collapsing mixed with a feral beast ready to jump at its prey. It was freezing in there, but he was wearing a shirt with sleeves rolled all the way up to his elbows, and his hairy forearms were covered in white dust and paint dribbles. He was a rather short man, but well-built and muscular, and even if the bishop was considerably taller and not thin himself, he felt that he could have easily knocked him down in one move.

- Monsignor Fell, back again...

The man didn't sound pleased, but he didn't sound displeased either. Considered his well-known temper and given the circumstances, his reaction was relatively welcoming. One could have even called it encouraging. After all, noone was ever really at ease in Rome. Especially not in that part of Rome.

- I was eager to see your progress. - Aziraphale said with a honest smile. - I hope I'm not disturbing your work. Please don't mind my presence.

They both instinctively looked up.

The enormous vault of the Sistine Chapel was looming over the empty hall as a giant shield, halfway covered in massive figures. Those bodies looked so real and heavy that they felt like they could plummet any second all the way down to the floor and crash the unfortunate bystanders. It was like a threatening storm of colors and shapes slowly covering the old starry sky.

- Not much progress to see. - Growled Michelangelo, turning back to the sketches and tossing a piece of reddish chalk on the table. - I'm bloody stuck.

Aziraphale moved his eyes across the ceiling, down to the farthest end of the vault, where the golden stars were still dimly shining on a deep blue background, on the two sides of the large ugly crack, now filled with bricks, that had scarred the old affresco when the south wall had shifted. It was a sad spectacle. He had liked the starry sky. It was beautiful.

- Stuck? How do you mean?

Aziraphale forced himself to look away from the ceiling and gently stared at the painter, who had turned his back on him and was angrily standing over his desk with his stained hands on his hips, like a severe father in front of a misbehaving child.

- I mean stuck. - The artist repeated drily, throwing an annoyed look at monsignor Fell. The bishop offered him a sympathetic smile, a strangely maternal smile that seemed to be saying that he took his worries very seriously but at the same time he was sure they were not insurmountable.

Michelangelo sighed forlornly. He didn't like priests, but he didn't mind this one. He curiously seemed very little concerned with church matters and a lot more interested in random things like paintings and statues and choir rehearsals. He had even spotted him more than once in a couple of his favourite osterie, and he meant the good ones, those small half-hidden godforsaken places that only the locals knew, ignored by travellers and definitely not visited by clergymen. And he had seen him sitting there in plain sight, amidst the common people of Rome, as if noone could tell that he was a bishop - and God knew if bishops were a hatred species in the streets of the Holy City. It was truly a miracle that he could just walk in there, eat and drink like he were any carter or boatman, and not end up robbed or stabbed or poisoned. He had even seen Teresina at the Gatto morto pour him the good wine once, the one that the innkeeper kept only for himself and his closest friends. Furthermore, he had a nice eye for drawing: in the past few weeks he had been visiting the chapel almost daily, and had dropped some genuinely good remarks. Some of them even brilliant. He relaxed his shoulders and continued with a softer tone:

- This is not working and I'm not putting this up there, con tutta la fatica che costa.

Aziraphale looked up again, this time at the wooden structure that was stretching upwards like a dark solid cobweb. It took indeed a lot of effort, to climb up there, dragging along the large cartoni with the refined lineart to transfer on the plaster, standing hours and hours arched backwards to paint over your head, seventy feet above the ground, with the colors running down the brush and dripping on your face...

- Do you mind me seeing the sketch?

The painter made a vague gesture to let him approach the table and eyed him with a certain curiosity when the bishop let out a little gasp and a peculiar nostalgic expression settled on his face. It was the sketch for the campata of the Original Sin.

Aziraphale felt a warm mix of emotions filling his chest, not all of which he dared to name. He focused on the drawing. Michelangelo was right: it was wrong, even if he could not imagine how wrong.

In the sketch, Adam and Eve were sitting at the center, under the Tree, Eve reaching up for a fruit, Adam following her movement with a concerned look. On the right half of the piece, in a stretch of desert, the confused shape of an angel was roughly outlined: he was standing all straight and rigid with his sword raised above his head and a threatening finger pointing at the first humans. The left side was mostly filled with a generic looking garden, too lush and too earthly at the same time, and the only other presence was a little, ugly dragon-like creature, with a grotesque charcoal snut, sharp teeth and a biforcated tongue sticking out.

Aziraphale at first didn't pay it much attention, but after a second he suddenly realised what he was looking at and his jaw dropped.

- Is that supposed to be the Serpent of Eden!?

He asked in a high pitched voiced, sounding somewhat scandalised.

Michelangelo frowned and pulled out his most intimidating look.

- What else should it be?

- But that's not how it looked at all!

The bishop exclaimed, entirely unfazed. "Here it comes," thought to himself the painter, letting out a huff of resigned annoyance, "another punctilious catechist who wants me to stick to some stupid half line in the Bible." But, much to his surprise, monsignor Fell did not bring up any biblical reference. He looked vaguely offended and at the same time, for some reason, deeply amused.

- And how did it look? - Michelangelo asked sarcastically, posing like someone who is interrogating an eyewitness. But the bishop didn't seem to get the hint, and instead answered with a focused face, as he were actually about to recount him old memories.

- Well, it looked... - Aziraphale paused, searching the right word. He found himself suddenly assaulted by a number of adjectives that he had not anticipated. - He looked... - his tongue ended up picking one before his mind had time to evaluate the implications - ...seductive.

- Seductive. - Michelangelo looked at him with an incredulous face and his eyebrows were all the way up to his hairline.

Aziraphale stumbled.

- I mean... He- he was the original tempter... - He tried to regroup. His thoughts were strangely tumbling in his head. - You see, in order to be effective in his... tempting, he couldn't have look like an ugly little monster. - Yes, that was reasonable, it was a logical explanation, just a sensible thing that nobody could disagree on. - He had to look... - but then again, Aziraphale felt a sense of warmth of unclear origin raising to his face, and his voice cracked in a weird way, - ...beautiful. Charming. He had to be so, so fascinating, that you couldn't help listening to him, considering his reasons... I mean, the poor, naive humans, that is. They couldn't help...

His voice trailed off mid sentence. Michelangelo was still staring at him with a certain look, but the words of the bishop were not completely absurd.

- And he didn't crawl. That was not what he was. - He finished with a sort of fond determination.

- You make it sound quite impressive, for the one who damned humanity.

- Oh but he didn't mean to! - Once again, Aziraphale ignored the astonished expression on the other's face. A deep, obscure feeling of injustice was tugging at his soul. He didn't mean to have them damned. It was an overreaction. His voiced lowered ever so slightly, sounding somewhat sad. - From his point of view, he was... freeing them. He was giving them a choice, he didn't force them. He was letting the door of their cage open to see what they would do.

- Does the Pope know that you go around spreading this sort of ideas?

- Pah, what should he know.

They both startled as that last sentence echoed in all its outrageous blasphemy on the high walls. They looked around in the empty chapel tucking their heads between their shoulders, like two kids who had just inadvertently laughed out loud during the silent bit of the mass.

A moment of embarassed silence fell in the room. But the words of monsignor Fell had already stirred the painter's imagination.

- Beautiful, you say... - He repeated, almost speaking to himself, squinting at the left corner of his sketch as a different version of the scene started emerging in his mind. - Not crawly...

The chapel door opened suddenly and a very alarmed young seminarist run inside.

- Monsignor Fell! - He cried. - I've been looking for you everywhere! The assembly started half an hour ago.

- Did it indeed?

The bishop replied, looking like someone who knew perfectly well when the assembly was scheduled and had deliberately made sure to miss it. Michelangelo found himself wondering once more where on earth had they found such a singular minister of the church, who was now tenderly smiling at the seminarist, visibly moved to pity by his distressed expression.

- Well then, I suppose I will be coming right away. - He gave one last look at the sketch as he stepped away from the table. - Thank you for your time, maestro. And forgive me for... - He hesitated, as if trying to free himself from some last string of thought that was keeping him tied there. - ...for my suggestions.

The painter watched the white-blonde head disappear beyond the door that the alarmed seminarist closed after them, and all of a sudden the vast chapel felt colder than it was moments before. In the silence he could hear that it was raining outside. He took a deep breath, felt the freezing air filling his lungs and a shiver running down his spine, but his mind was on fire: an entirely new image was coming to life, one that the pope would probably not appreciate, and that was the best part.

He decided to take the rest of the day off to work on his idea and run to the Gatto morto, where he knew that Teresina would free the little corner table near the fireplace for him, with a light good enough to draw and a wine good enough to keep himself inspired.

- Now that is quite the progress since the last time I saw it!

The man had approached him so silently that Michelangelo almost spilled his jug over the new sketches.

- What are you doing here, Antonio? Aren't you supposed to stay away from the city after the ban? Se ti prendono gli svizzeri ti fanno la festa.

- Oh come on! Do you really think anyone would notice me? - The man threw himself on the chair on the opposite side of the table and crossed his long legs, unwrapping himself from his large black cloak.

- Yes, I do. - He replied, expressively pointing at the man he knew by the name of Antonio, all clad in black, with his exotic smoked spectacles and his bright red hair brushing his shoulders.

Crowley raised his glass with a bright white smile, like he had just been complimented.

- I thought you were in Florence.

- I've just come back from a lovely visit to your dear friend.

- He's not my friend.

Crowley's smile grew even wider, and the painter suddenly felt ashamed and annoied. He had spent the last several years convincing everyone including himself that he did not consider Leonardo his rival, that he was perfectly indifferent to his achievements and was not at all vexed by people talking about him, and it had took all of ten seconds to this man to make him snap without even naming the other one.

- He is making some formidable machinery, these days. Oh, and some really masterful portraits. - His irritating grin was unbearable. - You should see them.

Draining all his will power, Michelangelo managed to keep his mouth shut and focused all his attention back on his new sketches.

- I'm busy, what do you want?

- I've come to see your progress! - Antonio said cheerfully, grabbing his drawings before he could stop him. - Quite impressive, indeed...

His expression became imperceptibly more serious as he was examining the small piece of paper where the painter had sketched a new version of the Original Sin campata. Michelangelo knew that he had not liked the first version: months before, he had come to his shop all swagger and cockiness as always, and after seeing the initial sketch of the Eden had left without saying a word and somehow had earned himself a ban from Rome. Not that it had stopped him from coming back on a whim just to mock him with news of Leonardo's incredible machinery, apparently. And after all, the swiss guard really seemed to ignore him to an impossible degree, as he were invisible. Michelangelo had a certain suspect that Antonio was having an affair or more than one with someone inside the Curia, earning the protection of a dame or two. Or a monsignore or two. Or both, whatever. Now he seemed struck by the new version of the scene.

The sketch was nothing more than a bunch of thick lines on a small piece of paper, but you could make out that the Serpent was no longer on the ground, but wrapped around the Tree, had no monstruous features but a human-like torso, and his head was towering higher than all the other characters in the scene.

Michelangelo watched him staring intentely at the drawing, with an unreadable expression on his face, until he put down the piece of paper with a careful movement.

- You're good, good job. - He said, trying to make it sound casual, but with a weird note in his voice.

- I know I'm good. - The painter said, grabbing the drawing angrily. - But this change is throwing off the entire composition. Now I have three characters in the middle and this one over here. - He muttered, pointing all disgruntled at what was supposed to be the Angel of Eden, who was sadly standing alone on the right side of the image like a piece of a column that someone had built there by mistake. A tentative detail of his profile, stern and scowling, was sketched sideways on the margin of the sheet.

- Why did you draw him so angry?

Michelangelo raised his head from his composition puzzle, not quite understanding what Antonio was talking about, until he saw his finger tapping over the profile.

- He's the Angel. - He said with a tone indicating that the implication was obvious. But the man sitting in front of him didn't seem to get the point. - He's the Angel who delivers the fucking wrath of God. He has to look angry!

- No he doesn't!

The painter straightened up in disbelief. What was with everyone that day? Why did every last person in that damn city had opinions on his work, all of a sudden?

- Oh sorry, should I make him all cheerful and smiling?

- Why would he be smiling?

- And what would he be?

Antonio took a second, and then aswered, deadly serious.

- Heartbroken.

- Why heartbroken?

- Because! - Crowley was not sure how to explain it, but he felt outraged at the idea that in all those century mankind had assumed the Angel was angry that day. - Because he was the Angel assigned to guard the garden of Eden, the first living bit of the creation! They left him there alone, to watch over the first humans, didn't give him istructions! Didn't tell him what to expect! And then he blinks and bam! they're damned, out of the garden, off you go struggling and suffering, you and all your kind for the rest of time!

Michelangelo was staring at him in utter surprise. He had known him for the kind of man who never loses his cool, and now here he was, losing it over the Book of Genesis.

- You didn't strike me as a man who would get heated over some biblical minutia.

Crowley leaned foreward, gripping his jug of wine so tightly that the painter could have sworn that he heard the glazed ceramic handle made a worrying crackling noise. The painter felt the instinctive urge to pull back on his chair.

- He was there, you see? Watching it happen, struggling to understand wether he had failed them or it was all part of God's blasting ineffable plan.

- He's the Angel of Eden! He would know the will of God!

- How would he know? - Crowley rebutted, now visibly enraged. - He's just an angel! And God doesn't speak to anyone. He's just an angel, he was there alone, scared to death... - he paused for a moment, like he had been struck by his own words, - scared to death because they were punishing the humans and making him deliver the sentence, but maybe they would punish him as well... for letting the Serpent get in.

He ended the sentence on a broken tone, and immediately after draw a small breath and gulped down his wine, all in one go.

Michelangelo wasn't sure what to make of it. Antonio didn't seem drunk, but that had been a wild rant. And yet, it could be interesting to draw an Angel of Eden that was not, for once, the usual severe messanger of death burning with God's divine rage, but a sad, sorrowful pal who had messed up his job. He thought of the merciful expression of monsignor Fell, earlier that day, when he had looked at the poor seminarist knowing that he had possibly gotten both of them into trouble by skipping the assembly.

Now he was starting to resent his composition, leaving that forlorn Angel out there, all on his own, while the others were grouped together under the Tree, as if they were having a pick nick. The humans and the tempter...

- The poor, naive humans... - he muttered, repeating the bishop's words.

- Well, - Crowley objected, apparently back to his usual composure, but still with an indefinible shadow on his brow, - they were naive only at the beginning. But after they became quite quickly aware of how the world runs.

- Well too bad, it has to be one or the other, I don't have two squares for the Eden scene.

But as he was saying that, a new image clicked in his mind, and he stared down at the piece of paper that he had been torturing for the past several hours, trying to solve his composition issue. The Tree was there, dead-center on the campata, dividing the space in two perfectly symmetrical spaces. The Serpent was already up there, in the branches: he could put the Angel there as well, and make the time flow from left to right, from happy but naive humans to desperate but aware ones, the two emissaries of Good and Evil standing in the middle as the two-faced needle on the scales of human destiny... no, not of Good and Evil, rather of Law and Chaos, of Safety and Freedom.

He raised his head with excitement and looked at the man in front of him. He was now sitting inhumanly still, and somehow Michelangelo could feel his eyes piercing through the smoked spectacles. He froze.

- Oh I know that glare. - Antonio said with a voice that he had never heard him before, a ghostly whisper, almost a hiss coming from another world. - That shine that sometimes burns in the human eyes, a spark from the forge of Creation itself...

Michelangelo felt an icey feeling gripping him from the inside, but he could not look away. He was hypnotised by invisible eyes, and even if the physical body of the man in black was still perfectly motionless, for a moment he believed he could see a different body, in a different shape, slowly swinging side to side with only his head fixed in the same spot, yellow pupils cutting through his soul like sharp knives through warm butter.

He wasn't sure how it had stopped. Next thing he knew, he was staring at Antonio who was looking at his drawings again, absorbed in his thought, with a sort of distant nostalgia in the curve of his mouth.

- I shall go. - Michelangelo said with a husky voice, as if he had been asleep for a long time. But he didn't get up.

- You shall. - Crowley repeated, looking back at him, this time with nothing strange happening. - That was a lot of inspiration to process for a human in just one day.

He launched his lanky body out of the chair with a movement that didn't seem possible, draped himself back in his heavy cloak, gave him a quick last look, and strode away, the light of the fireplace caught in his bright red hair. It was still raining outside, but there was a promise of snow in the air.

July 1510, Rome

The two corner doors of the antechamber opened at the exact same time and two hurrying figures rushed in and stopped just a split second away from running into each other.

For a moment they stood there, staring at each other, locked in place, the hem of the white robe and the flap of the black cloack swirling happily together like two puppies eager to meet again despite their owners.

- Good Lord!

Aziraphale gasped, finally stepping away from Crowley.

- Ah! What in Hell are you doing in here, dressed like that? - The demon snorted with a mocking grin, moving his gaze down Aziraphale's episcopal outfit and back up again, lingering on all the lacy bits with the most overtly suggestive motion he could perform. The short black capelet made a rather dashing contrast with the fair curls.

- I am on a diplomatic assignment. - The angel answered primly, ever so slightly blushing at the base of his neck, looking in turn at Crowley's tight fitting black attire under the cloak, all velvet and metalwork and shiny damasque. And then he lowered his voice and added, in a deliciously indignant tone, - What are you doing in here? We are on consecrated ground!

- Not quite yet. This is only an entryway and you should know damn well that nobody here is saint enough to make a single tile sacred outside the chapel.

Aziraphale tried to hoist an outraged expression, but it was hard to pretend that he didn't actually know damn well Crowley was right.

- Anyway, - the demon continued looking at the door on the other side of the entryway, - I was just passing by to take a look at the famous ceiling.

- It's not completed yet. - Aziraphale pointed out, immediately regretting it. He caught himself thinking that he didn't actually want the demon to leave. Not that he wanted his company, of course. But it would have been unpolite, with him being in the hosting party, so to speak, to send him away like that.

- I know, but I hear the last bit has made quite the impression around here.

- It has indeed! - The angel exclaimed, smiling and muffling his excited voice in a goofy way that made something twitch somewhere in the demon's chest. - The cardinals were utterly scandalised! I was going to take a look myself!

The angel moved to the door of the chapel and opened it cautiously, peeking inside.

- There's noone in there! - He whispered visibly thrilled, like the silliest conspirator who ever lived. Crowley stepped closer, thinking to himself that there was no end to the angel's childlike enjoyment of those little innocent transgressions. Not that he enjoied them too, of course. But it would be unworthy of a demon not to appreciate such evil deeds.

They both peeked out from behind the door. The chapel was empty, pleasantly crisp in contrast with the hot roman summer. A choir of cicadas was relentlessly chirping outside. The wooden structure had moved foreward since the last time Aziraphale had been there. A giant curtain was draped between the already completed campate and the ones still in progress.

Crowley managed to chart himself a path across the room, using the spare planks left on the ground as safe spots, holding his arms out to keep his balance, jumping from one board to the next and taking only a couple of quick steps on the floor when the distance was too great. Aziraphale was observing his movements from the corner of his eye and thought the demon looked like one of those large water birds that you could see flying by the river during winter, so big and yet so light and graceful.

The new part of the ceiling was hidden by the curtain. Without saying a word, they both moved to the ladder on the side of the wooden structure and climbed almost all the way up to the top. A strange expectant silence had fallen between them, and neither of the two wanted to break it. They knew exactly what they were about to see, but for some reason they were both pretending that they didn't, and the higher they climbed, the more they were steering their thoughts away from a certain shared memory that now, all of a sudden, was becoming inexplicably significant. A moment that had always been there, tucked away in their minds, but now seemed too bright to look at, too hot to touch, too heavy to handle.

They finally reached the main platform, the last large surface before the precarious scaffolding that brought the painter in reach of the ceiling, all still cluttered with buckets and rags and dried out palettes.

They stood by each other, breathing in the pungent smell of the paint, and with a synchronized movement looked up.

There it was. There they were. Their first meeting on Earth, as Michelangelo had envisioned it, channeling what the angel and the demon, unbeknownst to each other, had unintentionally lead him to imagine. He had turned the Original Sin into a backdrop, Adam and Eve into little more than extras on scene, leaving the center stage to them.

There it was. Their very first meeting as they, a recalcitrant demon who didn't mean to do anything properly bad and a doubtful angel who couldn't figure out what God wanted him to do. They were emerging from the Tree, the Wily Old Serpent stretching his beautiful androginous torso to the left, no man nor woman but both, passing Eve a fruit; the Angel of the Eastern Gate floating next to him, holding his arm out to the right, a disheartened look on his face as he used his sword not so much to threaten the humans as to direct them toward their earthly new existence.

- Look at you! - The angel smiled, - You're...

But the words died on his lips and he couldn't finish the sentence. Something heavy and mournful was tied to that part of his memory, like an iron anchor holding it under the surface of his conscience.

Aziraphale focused on the affresco, trying to distract himself with shapes and contours and brushstrokes... he felt a sudden burst of heat burning the skin of his face as he was studying the Serpent's coils spiraling up the Tree, and was startled when the demon spoke.

- He did make you sad.

The angel examined his supposed representation.

- I was sad.

- Yes, I remember.

- I felt so bad... so guilty...

Aziraphale felt Crowley's gaze settling on his face and lowered his eyes, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

- Guilty? Why? - The demon asked, with a hint of wonder in his voice.

The angels shrugged, twisting his hands and biting his lips with a tormented expression on his face.

- Because they were being punished, but I was the one who had failed them. - He looked up at the picture, but he was looking past it, rewatching a different scene. - And... and... - His eyes started stinging and watering, the effect of all that fresh paint no doubt, - And... had I spoken up for them...

He suddenly turned to look at Crowley, who was staring at him with his golden eyes wide open.

- They were only being curious... - the angel pleaded, and the effect of that paint was really terrible because an entire teardrop rolled down his cheek as he was speaking. - They only wanted to know things. And I let them be cast out and didn't say anything. - He took a short breath and his voice came out thin as a whisper - How will I be forgiven?

Crowley stood there without breathing, transfixed. His brain was struggling to process the angel's discourse, that pain for the humans, for their fault and their fall, and beyond that another pain, older, deeper, bleeding through his words like ink through thin paper. But the pain on the surface was easier to grasp and the other one was tangled in too many frightful thoughts, so the demon pretended that he had only caught the human part of that lament.

- I was the one who tempted them into that. - He said quietly after a moment of silence that could have lasted a second or a century. He felt like he was slightly suffocating. That paint smell truly was unbearable. It was even making his voice crack. - Do you still hate me?

A shocked expression darkened Aziraphale's face, and something behind his blue eyes seemed to crumble. There had to be a cloud hiding the sun, right in that moment, because up there under the vault the air became suddenly darker and colder.

- I never hated you. - He murmured. And then, with a wounded tone, - How could you think that?

The cloud moved away.

- It was my fault.

- I don't think it was.

They stood in silence again, and their confusion was so deep that a moment later none of them was able to tell anymore who had said "It was my fault" and who had replied "I don't think it was".

- We should get down, this smell is making me hazy. - Said the angel, sniffling.

- Yeah, this was enough church attending for me.

- Would you like... - Aziraphale paused, suddenly interested in a dented tin bucket who was draining all his attention, - Would you like to have lunch? I know a place.

Crowley opened his mouth and closed it again without making any sound, then opened it again and let out a couple of stumbling syllables before finally managing: - Well, I don't suppose that would hurt.

They exchanged a hesitant look and turned their eyes up at the two towering figures in the Garden of Eden one last time.

Michelangelo had given them two identical faces, the identical hair color, a shade that had been mixed somewhere in between a pale blonde and a bright red, and had put them up there, looking in opposite way but close to each other, almost hugging - the right arm of the angel almost around the serpent's waist, the right arm of the serpent almost around the angel's neck - as if they were twins, or lovers, or rather the two heads of the same chimerical creature. Two halves of the same being.

[redninjaoutfit]

i have a question how do u think colt would interact w my oc harin 😍

@namraniiart is my art blog that has her information :3

Thank you for this question!!

I've read up on harins backstory and I've gotta say I think theyd get along swimmingly with both of them having loaded backstories yet remaining compassionate and kind people! They also share an interest in art and albeit colt is more about painting whereas harin likes sketching they'd surely bond over that hobby too!

BUT OK ENOUGH RAMBLING HERES SOME INTERACTIONS I THINK THEYD HAVE!!

She would see herself as the older sister of Colt and not shy away from scolding him for taking up bad habits such as smoking

They'd find comfort in each others presence, colt being the calm and collected to harin's more rambunctious demeanour! At the same time harin's free-spirited attitude would help colt lose some of his seriousness and live a little

The two of them could jam out to Elvis together!

THEYD PAINT TOGETHER DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THAT THEY 100% WOULD. HARIN WOULD SKETCH COLT IN DIFFERENT DESIGNER PIECES AS HE STANDS IN FRONT OF THE NEW COVENTRY SUNSET WITH HIS EASEL. He could also be her model for masculine projects!

Considering her shared past with Ted (which I found very intriguing and would like to hear more about harin's current relationship with him and the other jocks!) She'd attempt to convince colt the jocks aren't all bad, or at least their leader isn't. She'd seek vengeance on Luis when she finds out what he's done to Colt though, NO MERCY (tying into the protective older sis aspect of her personality)

Once again thank you so so much for the ask and I hope you like how I imagine out OCs together I had so much fun writing this AND I LOVE MY GIRL HARIN!!

[mrpenguinpants]

Genshin: University AU [V1]

I love modern au. Or any “everything is fine, no one died, it’s just a fever dream” au. Half of me is thinking, damn maybe I should answer this serious- LOL HAHA no. That’s not happening. Time to crack my knuckles and let my brainworms take over again.

Once again, this is 90% crack 10% content. I want to switch up my characters from the last brainworm post but I included Kaeya and Diluc.

---

Today’s appreciation post goes to twistedwishes. Hey! I’ve been seeing you pop up a lot lately and thanks for the support 💕💕 I hope things are going better for you and you’re doing alright^^ I feel kinda bad for making appreciation posts on crack fics but hopefully this is somewhat funny haha. 

---

Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]

Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]

Genshin: Roommate [V1]

Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]

[Masterlist]

---

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

  @mikeysbike @hanniejji@unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @youaskedfurret @diaxfeliz @wintergreen-aix @dandelily @thegayrubberducky @lovelykittycatmeow @yuunoagivesmelife  @dokidokisama @simpygrimoire @minakohasmanyhusbandos @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki​

---

Diluc

Absolute pretty boy who has braincells, but only if Kaeya is not there. In his mind, Kaeya’s presence makes his room loose 40% of their common sense. He can’t prove it just yet but he’s working on it. He majors in accounting but also has a minor in marketing, logistics’ management, fia- he majors everything business related. He’s going to become the next Elon Musk through smarts or by getting the competition drunk. There can be no contest if he’s the only candidate. He’s actually a hard working guy that overworks and stresses way too much. You have daily “Diluc recharge” evenings where he just hangs onto you while you go through your day.

“Don’t fucking talk to me until I’ve had my coffee,” except there is no coffee - he drinks grape juice out of juice boxes and his only energy boost is when he meets up with you - and that’s his constant mood. So he usually only hangs around you and Jean, since she has childhood friend status and is actually an angel. By default, Lisa is added and Diluc doesn’t mind her but if he see’s Kaeya, it’s full on war paint mode. If he's not busy with work or studies, he's usually with you either in your dorm or his apartment.

He has a fanclub and he seriously hates it and tries to do everything in his power to get Ningguang to take it down. Shouldn’t this be against his rights? But she refuses for whatever reason and makes a whole speech about free will. No matter what he does, someone manages to take a picture and it get’s printed in the university’s newspaper. The only bonding time he has with Kaeya is every Monday, where they collect and burn all the universities newspapers before anyone can get their hands on it. You always bring marshmallows to make smores during their arson activities.

“When I graduate I’m going to burn this school down to the ground. That’s not a threat it’s a promise.”

Ningguang

Is secretly the leader of the Diluc fanclub - not that she likes Diluc, she’s in a questionable platonic poly marriage with you and Beidou - but it was the easiest way to gain funds for the student council. Which she is the president of, so rip Diluc the fanclub stays. Ruthless business woman I tell you. But she can run in heels so her danger factor rises by at least 20%.

Majors in social sciences and law but more specifically the political science & government. She saw the Imperial State Crown that the Queen of England wears and says yes, that’s mine now. If she’s not with Beidou and you planning on “how to infiltrate the state government just for lols”, then she’s with Keqing, Ganyu, and Zhongli discussing student council things. Should they or should they not tell the student body that they can see everyone’s search results? Sit back and relax as the school goes into chaos. 

She’s probably the scariest person on campus No, she is the scariest person on campus. She’s the scariest person on campus. But secretly she’s popping 20 aspirins just to make it through a night. She has the digestive system of steel. She still holds the title of "seriously do not try and beat her in a drinking game it's never going to happen" and that's her proudest achievement in life but sadly she can’t put it on her resume. Kaeya is still trying to beat her out of spite but so far it hasn't been working. You’re seriously concerned for her when she get’s challenged but Beidou gives you a way-to-hard slap on the back and cheers her on. If Ninngguang somehow get’s alcohol poisonings she’ll somehow find away to make a profit out of it.

"I'll let him die, I'll get the insurance money."

Kaeya

One day he chugged too much mouth wash, passed out, and somehow woke up in university majoring in law. His idea is that if he is apart of the law, he can therefore stand above it. To be fair, his only goal in life is to say “I am the manager” and he can go live the rest of his life in bliss or as a hermit. He’s secret best friends with you but wouldn't be caught dead beside you. He will stab a bitch if you ever get hurt but will still trip you on the way home. Seriously, you have no idea why people find him attractive. Your guess is it’s the eye patch or the clap of his ass cheeks that keeps alerting everyone.  

He’s apart of the newspaper club and if anyone asks: No, he has no idea who keeps taking all the newspapers and burns them in the back of the campus. Originally, he joined because he was nosy and needed to join some type of club for his resume. He sometimes feels bad for his junior assistant Amber because he keeps tricking her and says that Diluc is secretly a demon that is trying to steal all the jobs and is apart of the lizard government hell bent on eradicating the human race. He even brought out a whiteboard for this joke, he’s dedicated to his job ok? 

The type of guy to try and be humble and say his work is “okay” but will choke a bitch if anyone agrees. He tends to leave everything last minute and says that it’s his drug since actual drugs could land you one year in prison and a maximum penalty of $2,000. You have to awkwardly hold in your concerned mother head shake when you see him speed running his assignment literally right when the professor is walking around to check if students finished. 

“I was taught how to lead not to read.”

Mona

Broke wallet #2. Zhongli is broke wallet #1 but Childe simps for him so is he really a broke wallet at this point? In this essay, I Mona Megistus, will explain why I have the rights to the title “Broke Wallet #1″...

Believes that astrology should be an actual career path but refuses to take astronomy as her major. I can read the stars not a textbook that tells me how to calculate the mass of the sun divided by the fucks I give. Instead she went into Philosophy and cries to Albedo, who is an actual prodigy genius- sir lend some braincells to everyone else please?, that her professor keep turning her paper down because “star reading” is not an academic source.

Fischl wants her to join the occult club because, surprisingly, Mona is very good at telling people’s fates through her crayon sketch ouija board. She thinks first year Fischl is cute but is put off by the cosplay roleplay that she has going on. She would join except that stupid hat wearing gremlin in her lit class would make fun of her if he found out.

You gave her half your lunch one day and bought her a doughnut "because she seemed upset" and "out of the goodness of your heart" whatever the hell that means. She thinks you pensioned it but once that thought comes she takes a bite. Poison from a doughnut is not the worst way to go out, classes are hard enough. She’s waiting for the lord to strike her down anyways. 

“Its not about passing, its about doing better than everyone else.”

Venti

Slept through most of highschool and people question how he got into university. He’s a music major (wow how fucking original is that), and if anyone asks him to serenade someone or just do anything, he’ll do it for the right price. Or if you buy him alcohol because he still keeps getting ID checked. He’s banking on Kaeya actually becoming a lawyer or being on good terms with Diluc so he can finally stop being arrested for looking like a toddler.

Takes one step into classes and quickly nopes out and goes back to bed. Professors have no idea how he hasn't dropped out or failed. He just has some god given talent. He does whine at you to pretty pretty please with a cherry on top tutor him because you're such an angel and would never leave your poor but awesome best friend hanging right? He needs to get this essay down but how he is suppose to explain how the number 10 is symbolic and connects to the universe or the meaning of life. Do you think he can just say it’s apart of his culture and make up some random myth to pretend it looks like he knows what he’s doing? 

He’s honestly going with the flow and put his brain on the back burner all of highschool and only now realizes wait, I actually have to use my brain?

He’s been banned from most club chats since Venti has the no chill card. Someone says “lol I look ugly today.” and he’ll respond "yup, you look like a cow." and he get’s banned. Zhongli keeps a speed run timer on his phone just to document these occasions.

"Sad spelled backwards is das and das how it be sometimes."

Childe

An actual dumbass that somehow does well. He eats sandwiches with the crust off, this heathen. Surprisingly he’s studying to become a physical therapist but most of his experience has come from breaking his own bones. You’re scared how he's going to be if he actually becomes a therapist. If he'll make bets with his patients or try to one up whatever crazy injury they get into. Everything is a challenge to him that sometimes the best way to deal with Childe is to knock him out. 

This man really knows the way to a Zhongli’s woman's heart. Through micro transactions. Mona saw him accidently drop $20 and just shrugged and walked off. She has never been both spiritually and physically offended in her life. She did take the $20 though. As much as you hate leeching on Chile when he’s basically a walking wallet that probably uses bills as tissue paper, you can’t help but give him puppy eyes while planning on how to get into his will. If he even plans on having one, he might honestly write “whoever wins in a gladiator style duel in my funeral’s tournament, they will get my fortune.”. 

Any sport the university offers Childe is probably in it. Which is how he met Zhongli, challenged him to a fight, proceeded to have his ass handed to him, got a backhanded compliment, and screamed to you he was in love and how he found his soulmate. He's secretly very sappy and has cried and watched every Disney and Pixar movie at least 28 times.

"IM NOT TOO SPICY! I’M A TINY BIT ABOVE MILD IF ANYTHING!”

---

God if it isn’t Scaramouche, it’s Childe that ruins the aesthetic. This is why I hate you. Why do you people enable me like this, it isn’t even good. This is pretty much a @ yourself moment and I vibe hard with Venti. This entire post was just to make a joke about the clap of Kaeya’s ass cheeks alerting the guards.

This week might slow down since I have classes and assignments. My reply’s are gonna be late too, sorry;; (oh and thank you to everyone that was so supportive and nice when I mentioned it. All of you. Beautiful 💕💕 )

[barbarianprncess]

is there a reason you’re blushing like that !!!!

i actually loved writing this so thank you for the prompt!

forever house

read on ao3

or

“Mom, I’m home!” Percy calls distractedly into their apartment as he wrestles with his skateboard.

“Hi honey,”  Sally answers from the couch, and he can hear the smile in her voice when she says “There's a surprise for you in your bedroom.” He furrows his brow and hurries upstairs. He opens his bedroom door expecting cookies and is instead greeted with familiar blonde hair and a bed overrun with papers far too complicated to be his own. He can’t help the smile that overtakes his face at the sight of his girlfriend, still in her Catholic school uniform.

“Hey!” He leans over his bedspread being very careful not to wrinkle her designs to plant a kiss on her cheek. “How’s my favorite genius?”

“Hey Percy.” Annabeth is currently scrambling to get her papers in order, which he finds odd because usually when he calls her a genius she’ll smile and kiss him extra gently. And then she only needs a little prodding and he can get her to explain what she's working on. She gets this crinkle in the corner of her eyes when she talks about her projects and gesticulates wildly to get him to understand. It’s awesome.

But right now, Annabeth is beet red, eyes manic, and piling papers with a vengeance. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening but Annabeths got this look in her eye- like one wrong move and she’s gonna bolt. “What’re you working on?”

“Nothing!” She says voice cracking in a way that clues him in on the fact that the subject of her stress but her work. Which Percy finds ridiculous because he may not understand the nuanced and complicated world of design, but Annabeth’s smarter than anyone, she’ll figure whatever it is out. Annabeth gets like this sometimes- ADHD fixation and her need for perfection is a combo that doesn’t mix well and in the months that they’ve been dating, there have been more than a few times when Percy had to loosen her fistes curled around her designs in frustration, and talk her down from a panic attack because Apollo didn’t love his statue. Percy hates that her work does that to her, but he likes taking care of her.

“Annabeth,” He says slowly, hands already positioned to relieve her of the designs that she managed to wrangle in her lap, but she bats them away.

“No, no it's not- I’m not.” She looks up at him and her eyes soften at his concern. “I’m fine, seriously I’m not stuck on anything.” Percy raises his eyebrows skeptically.

“Sooo… is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” Annabeth's hands fly up to her neck as if she can stop the flush of her skin from the outside. Which is a mistake on her part because Percy immediately grabs the blueprint she was so desperately trying to hide. She lunges for it, causing the remaining papers to fall forgotten on the floor, but Percy's growth spurt, along with the angle she’s sitting on his bed, makes it so he’s able to keep her at bay.

“Percy!! Give it back, oh my gods, I’m gonna kill you!” He’s heard that before and he’s still breathing so, he takes his chances. He makes out the words “Forever House: Annabeth Chase”, and a vague sketch of what looks like a shoreline. He catches Montauk and something about support beams when Annabeth finally succeeds in snatching the paper from him. She’s flushing even harder now, and her hands are covering her face.

“Which of the gods are asking for a forever house?” He laughs until he notices Annabeth shaking her head and she lets out a muffled ‘none of ‘em’ from behind her hands.

“Hey, hey Annabeth.” He says softly poking at her sides and pinching at her cheeks (he gets mostly fingers because she’s still covering her face but, all the better to grab her hands with). She sighs and lets him take her hands and sit on the edge of the bed, still not meeting his eyes. He squeezes the fingers in his grasp, a silent promise not to make fun of her, and she takes a deep breath and forces out an explanation.

“Well, a couple weeks ago, while I was waiting for you to get out of school, me and your mom talked for a while and she mentioned some of your trips to Montauk and how much you loved them, and we were looking at pictures and she mentioned how you always said you wanted to live there, right on the beach when you got older, and inspiration kinda struck and I started sketching out your hypothetical beach house. And I guess subconsciously, your beach house became a version of…. the forever house.”

Now, Percy’s heard of the hypothetical ‘forever house’ before. Annabeth had told him once about her favorite theoretical place, created when she was little. Having lost every person and place she was told to call home, caused a deep distrust for anywhere she lived in the future. (He doesn’t blame her, he’s not sure he could ever trust anything if he went through what she went through before Luke turned to Kronos- let alone everything she went through after.) So to cope, in her head she’d design a house that she’d build when she was older- now known as the forever house. She told him she daydreamed about building it, how it’d be open and bright with huge windows so she’d never feel alone again. But, despite its openness, it’d be sturdy and rooted in place. The design and location changed over time but it always had big windows and it was always immobile. And no matter what happend, that house would be her ��something permanent’. Her forever house.

As what she was saying registered, Percy’s smile grew impossibly wide. Annabeth must’ve assumed he was laughing at her and deflated. “I know, it’s stupid and creepy just forget it ok I didn’t mean-”

He let go of her hands as she rambled and cut her off with a kiss. He wasn’t sure how to articulate what he was feeling with words, so he let his body speak for him. His thumb swipes at her cheek (I’m sorry that you had to build a house in your head because the people that were supposed to love you didn’t, it wasn’t your fault, thank you for trusting me anyway), he runs fingers through her hair (It’s an honor to be a part of your future, I’m going to care about you, on purpose, for as long as you’ll let me), he tilts up her chin to deepen the kiss (I love you, all of you).  

When they part he rests his forehead on hers and allows himself a minute to be in awe of her. He learned a long time ago that Annabeth was brave. But after learning so many of the intimate details of her past, he thinks that her ability to love at all is an act of bravery. Everytime she tells him a secret, or holds his hand, or lets him walk through one of her walls is an act of rebellion. To love Annabeth is to be in awe of her relentless courage.  

“Thank you.” He whispers. He doesn’t clarify what for and she doesn’t ask. She just smiles something small and says, “You’re welcome.”

He kisses her forehead because he can and half-laughs out, “You made me a house.”

“Ugh.” She buries her head in his shoulder bites at his collarbone in annoyance. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t, you love me, you know how I know?”

“I’m begging you to shut up.”

“Because you made me a house!” He says gleefully into her hair.

Annabeth shoves him back on the bed and he pulls her down with him. She half on top of him, face buried in his chest when she retorts,

“I made us a house.”

He hopes she doesn’t mind when his arms tighten around her. It’s instinct. And a necessity. And when he whispers i love you into her hair, it's a silent promise. A promise to do anything and everything possible to get them to that house one day. From the way she smiles into his shirt, she’s gonna do the same.

[iamnmbr3]

love how much mental gymnastics you guys have to do to make out that mobius is a bad person. he is literally the only one who believes in loki from what we've seen and is putting his job on the line to help him. as someone who has adored loki since 2012, he has committed a lot of hideous crimes, his anger was only influenced by the sceptre (he was not mind controlled), and he was literally about to assault mobius. should mobius have just let loki hit him?? you guys are mental lmao

1) “You guys”?? Last time I checked I was one person. Are you under the impression that I am a colony of super-intelligent bees stacked on top of each other under a trench coat? Well. I suppose since I’m a stranger and you know nothing about me, technically that could be (bee?) true.

2) Given your behavior I can certainly see why you aren't able to understand why what Mobius is doing is wrong since you seem unable to behave in a moral, ethical, and kind manner and seem to feel compelled to be cruel and to try to control others. Perhaps you should consider a career with the TVA.

3) Seriously though. Regardless of whether my interpretations are correct or not, this isn’t an appropriate ask to send. You need to learn to cope with strangers on the internet having different opinions from you on a range of subjects. I’m not attacking anyone who has different opinions from me because that would be stupid and also not nice. This is a fictional tv show. It’s not even that serious. Why would you think it’s ok to send harassing messages filled with insults to a stranger because they posted something online about a fictional character that you disagree with? I really hope you wouldn’t do that in real life. It’s abominable behavior. If you truly find yourself unable to control your anger over insignificant things like someone having a different opinion from you about a character in a comic book movie, I do suggest you see a professional.

4) I don’t really have to do much mental gymnastics at all. From his first appearance in the first trailer Mobius has mocked and humiliated and denigrated Loki. He’s also made a lot of incorrect and insulting statements about him - that he likes to talk (not true, from his first appearance he is defined by his silence), that he likes to lie (also not true. his deceptions work because they are unexpected) and that he frequently stabs people in the back. He doesn’t believe in Loki. He believes that Loki can be useful to him. We have seen no evidence of Mobius showing sympathy or empathy towards Loki, advocating for his rights, having any issue with him being ensalved or hurt, or caring that he ws just recently tortued by Thanos. He also has no compunctions about shocking him or hurting him. Mobius is Loki’s captor and just because he doesn’t want him to be killed doesn’t make him his friend.

5) What should Mobius have done? Gee. I dunno. Maybe not be complicit in an organization that routinely murders people and is currently enslaving Loki. Loki is a prisoner who is being held against his will under threat of death and forced to labor without compensation. He has every right to fight back. Also he’s not lunging at Mobius. It looks like he’s trying to leave.

6) If Mobius is intended to be an antagonist then he’s a brilliant one and as of the latest trailer that seems to be more the intent, given the sinister framing and music. I hope they continue to go in that direction because that makes for a much more interesting narrative. As the protagonist Loki should have threatening antagonists to deal with

7) Where did I say Loki has never done anything wrong? I like him because he is a grey character. Also why do you single out my liking for Loki? I like Thor too because I also find him an interesting character. Thor has killed way more people than Loki and yet you don’t assume that I am ignoring that. Actually a lot of the Avengers have done sketch things, but only Loki seems to provoke people to swarm into others’ inboxes going ‘but you know he did bad things right??” Also Loki's whole motivation in Thor 2011 was to prevent a war and STOP violence, despite the fact that he comes from a warrior society where warfare is considered glorious. He is raised in a society that has genocidally hateful attitudes towards the Jotnar. Loki is actually much more reserved in his opinions (unlike Thor who openly talks about wanting to wipe them out, and receives no correction, indicating this is an acceptable attitude in Asgardian society). Only once Loki becomes consumed with hurt and self-hatred after he learns his own origins and has a suicidal mental breakdown does he try to destroy Jotunheim. Thor meanwhile murders dozen of Jotnar over an insult (something that is considered totally cceptable in his society). So why do you single out Loki? Loki then is captured, tortued, mind controlled and indoctrinated by Thanos and forced to attack New York. And that’s really it on the horrible crime front. Pretty mild by his society’s strandards. This is not to say he’s done nothing wrong, but it’s kind of weird of you to single him out when so many other characters in the MCU are also grey. And again. Why do you need to come into my inbox about it???

8) Ultimately these are fictional characters and I can enjoy them and interpret them however I want. To me Mobius is very clearly evil and part of an evil organization. I also prefer him that way because I find him much more narratively interesting as a clearly framed antagonist and villain. So I certainly hope that's the intent. That’s my prerogative. Similarly if Loki were irreeemdably evil and I just wanted to woobify him and engage in the fandom that way and excuse his every bad act that would be ok too. I can have fun however I want. It’s not healthy or appropriate for you to come in my inbox and try to police that.

[key-to-my-heart]

S2 WISHFUL THINKING

hey hi hello! i haven’t really been active on tumblr but i wanted to get back into the swing of being active and posting often. so.

i decided i will take note of some of my predictions, hopes, wishes etc. for Season 2 of Rainbow High!

so i kinda wanna just cover the things we canonically have seen aka specific events and drama that has gotten introduced

- The New Roommates / Series 3 Girls

i feel like we will definitely see more of them within the coming episodes. rainbow high literally advertised the new teams as like… i think the second or third teaser for the new season

it’s interesting to me because. this makes me think of What The Runway Project is? what could it possibly be? i believe i made a post about this in the past but the main theory (and theory i believe the most in) would be a Stage Production of sorts. i mean… it makes sense!

the twins are both Performing Arts focus and are definitely the antags this season. so why wouldn’t they cause trouble in regard to a stage play? plus, bella is back. she’s literally a set designer! we have never seen her do any set designing (other than making a sketch) so it would be fun to see that! if river were to get more focus this season, he would definitely have an outlet to channel his Performing Arts creativity! plus… Daria is a song writer so like. imagine if we were to get music out of that? please. the possibilities are endless.

im also eager to see the series 3 girls dynamics. like are the rest of the girls (gabriella, georgia, emmy and daphne) all roomed together? do they get along? will they all be just as dramatic as stella, sheryl and daria’s dynamic?

but anyway. whatever the drama and the semester project is, the new teammates definitely seem to be playing a crucial role in this season.

- The Twins

i’m actually really eager to see more of them. i feel like not enough people are talking about them? season 2 is actually really interesting so far…. maybe more so than season 1… and i feel like we are going to have to thank the twins for that at some point lol

like. idek what they’re planning on doing but. i’m excited to see what it is! they’ll probably be involved in the semester project or at least causing problems to all of the roommates and teams. they’ll definitely have something going on with bella. and it seems that they have a good bond with karma (after the KWK we got). so maybe they’ll have input in any potential drama with Karma. which leads me to

- Karma VS. Violet

so. this drama has been teased at for like. ever. for what feels like forever.

this moment in Karma’s bio PLUS the commentary about violet from her and the twins in the recent KWK episode. but anyway. i’m actually super interested in whatever this drama could be??? like. why is karma watching.

we know violet adores karma, she really wants to have her in the vi life. so i’m sure she basically looks up to her! but like. will karma actually genuinely be nice with violet? keep a distance? make remarks like she did in her recent vlog? i don’t know. idk what to expect. of course it’ll have to do with vlogging or something.

- Bella

ok so there is a few things to note with bella. i’m still interested in if bella will accept to do an interview with Karma for her vlog? if so, i wonder how that would go. and i wonder how violet would feel about it. like the very last time bella was featured in vi’s vlog was on a bad note (even though they made up) but like. idk AAA

also i’m wondering how bella is gonna handle being back to rainbow high. because so far it seems she’s having trouble fitting in. will the key to her fitting in be Jade? will Jade help her figure everything out? or would it be someone else?

as much as i’d love Jade to be the reason Bella starts to feel more at home, i also love the other idea of Amaya being the reason bella feels comfortable again. Amaya was once the new girl (and of course in an awkward position because she was essentially a replacement for bella’s spot in the runway group) but. she didn’t fit in. she had to find her place at rainbow high… and it took her until the runway show to be able to truly feel comfortable.

and like. i’ve been rooting for bella/amaya dynamic for awhile now. i see a lot of potential in this duo. we know they somewhat have tension. i mean. bella had a really awkward confrontation with amaya and that was rly their first and last conversation. sure they’ve been around each other like in the music video, at the end of s1, and when bella walked into the girls dorm s2ep2 but like. that’s it.

SO ANYWAY. what i’m trying to get at is that these two definitely need to become friends. i mean. they have a LOT in common. i was talking about the new girl situation because i feel like they can relate in that way. they both had an awkward entrance into rainbow high and could bond over that. it took amaya awhile to feel at home at rainbow high… so maybe she could become friends with bella and help her feel at home! they’re both very determined leader types. they’re really passionate and! they have the same friend group! so why not become friends?

- Jade and Bella

of course i will wonder about these two! i have no clue what to expect with them. the fandom and myself are really really really wanting to see these two become a canon sapphic couple. i really want to see this happen! and mga knows this. mga knows we want to see jella happen. i mean, they literally snatched the ship name from us and plastered it into their vlogs. so they KNOW

anyway. these two are literally going through it rn. the way jade’s eyes lit up when she saw bella was back at rh. and now both of them are looking for each other and worried about each other. jade thinking bella is mad at her rn? please. i will sob. they are really holding off this jella reunion but i hope it’s for a good reason. i just want them to talk and have a good reunion… a hug……. happy tears, happy smiles…………..a love confession…

- Amaya

so i don’t really have much to say here but i’m just wondering about amaya this season. she’s definitely been advertised so much to the point that she essentially became like. THE main focus in season 1. this peeved some people but personally i loved amaya being like a sort of main character figure. she didn’t really take attention away from the other characters but also had that energy of being a main character anyway.

my point is, though, idk how she will play out in this season? like is she going to be as much of a main character as the main 6 are…. or will she play a bigger role? i have no clue. it seems bella is going to have a key focus this season, which makes sense, but it still just makes me wonder about amaya’s role this season

- Colin

i just hope this man does not get a development arc. i know some people want him to…. but i just. i don’t. i don’t understand. the point of him existing was to show that cheating is wrong and to display girl power. by teaching that skyler didn’t need a man to prove her worth. that she is her own person. her own strength! i really hope that colin and bella don’t have anything omfg.

- Winter Break

i’m really. REALLY excited for the winter break arc. it’s about time we get to see some backgrounds outside of rainbow high! plus the animated tidbits of ruby, sky, and violet in their wb outfits in the wb commercial was everything.

i’m so excited to see their new hairstyles, to see them with their snow gear and more. omg. of course i think the twins will be involved in this arc someone. krystal briefly mentioned the twins’ family having a ski lodge. and then of course we see sunny with her skis so like. yea!! i just wonder how these episodes would play out. or episode. but anyway like… will they just vibe? or will there be a problem of sorts? if it’s winter break then it probably won’t tie into school or like projects or anything like that

- Kia Hart

i’m actually hoping kia gets some focus this season. like. what is she going to do? is she going to pair another couple together? (if so, please be jella. okay wait seriously what if she is the key to reuniting jade and bella together… anyway) i just hope to see more of her and possibly more of her and krystal together haha. but kia just vibes so far, it would be lovely to get more of her!

- The A’s

so ainsley is finally beginning to get some attention! i really hope we continue to get more of her as well as avery, and aidan of course! we did get a bunch of content of aidan but you can never have enough honestly.

but i just wonder about how the A’s will be this season. like will they do anything significant? are bella and avery going to remain close? what is going on!!!

- The Malibu Line

so we literally know nothing about this except

but i still wonder like. if we will get to see anything about it at any point during the web series. perhaps it would be more of a summer thing. but it definitely means something if Bella is in it! (also i’m just generally excited for her new doll. omfg.)

- The Rock Line

so we also know almost nothing about this except

saw someone discuss that the music being heard during s2ep2 could be in regards to the rock battle. honestly. what if this is some sort of project? battle of bands or something? that would be cool lol. anyway i’m intrigued for this line mainly because of all the clothing leaks we have been getting omg.

- The Slumber Party Line

we have known about this for a little while (with the theory of the baby blue girl being in it) but i’m just curious as to who the characters are and if they will be in the web series at all.

- Jett Dawson

okay so. this is a big one. jett being a collector doll, i feel like she’ll definitely play a crucial role in the series. so like. who will she be to the main characters? it says she’s generally nice. why was she giving that look to the girls after their runway performance? IDK! i have no clue what to expect with her. i feel like the expectations i had for amaya (before we knew anything about her) will be put into jett because. the vibes i got from amaya ever since we just had her doll… i am also kind of getting from jett. so i’m eager!

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 12

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Lila’s starting to fall, amazing what saving your classmates lives can do for their opinion of you

First < Previous > Next

------

Marinette furiously scrunches up another failed sketch. Using her non dominant hand to start another design. It's a good thing she doesn't have any upcoming commissions because of the tour. Even so the distraction, no matter how infuriating, beats watching Marion's ragged breaths.

Tikki is resting on his chest, something they had learnt helps them heal faster. This meant that Plagg was forced to sulk in the corner. Pretending to enjoy the cheese, sneaking worried looks at his holder.

“Marinette look!” Tikki squeaks, as she throws another sketch away.

Marion eyelids start to flutter, Marinette leans over him, sketchbook hitting the ground. He opens his eyes and groans before rolling to his side, followed by a hiss of pain.

“Stay still you stupid cat!” Marinette gently but firmly forces him to sit back.

“Not stupid,” Marion sleepily slurs, sinking into the hospital bed.

“Reckless then,” Marinette schools the smile off her face as Plagg zips over to him.

“No I’m not,” He glares with sudden clarity, “Day?”

She rolls her eyes standing to open the curtains.

“Why yes it is,” Marinette smirks as he cringes at the light.

“What day?” His cringe turns back to a glare, completely unintimidating with the small Kwami curled against him.

“Don’t worry, they put you under for the night, for your system to work out all the fear toxin,” Marinette closes the curtains slightly, coming to sit on the chair next to him.

“Akuma?” Marion tries to bring his hands up to pet Plagg,

“Nope, I finally got some rest without you,” Plagg huffs, not moving away from Marion's touch.

“Arm?” Marion turns to Marinette, still smothering Plagg.

“Fine, it’s probably mostly healed, clean break,” That was probably stretching it, but it doesn't make much difference.

“Scarecrow?” Marion's expression turns dark.

“Prison,” Marinette probably mirrors his expression.

“... anything else I need to know?” He asks, shifting a little higher.

“Still and idiot,” Marinette picks her sketchbook back up, smoothing out the pages.

“Well it's great to see you accepting your-”

“Marion! You're awake!” Aunt Selina is standing in the doorway, she covers the distance in the blink of an eye. Almost as fast as their Kwami’s manage to hide.

“-fault,” Marion glares over their Aunts shoulder at Marinette.

“What was that?” Selina leans back, a slight smirk.

“Nothing,” Marion doesn’t stop giving the stink eye.

“Are you ok?” Their Aunt asks, checking Marion over.

“Yeah I feel fine,” Marion pushes her away gently, but it’s enough for her to lean back. Looking over him with a more cool expression.

“Hmm… I suppose bullet proof armour under your clothes would lessen the damage,” She says casually.

“Well yeah obvious-” Marion starts, stopping as they both realise at the same time;

“It’s a fashion statement!”

“This is Gotham?”

Their Aunt raises a brow. Their panic, wide eyes and wild gestures obviously painting the picture of innocence.

“Alright then, I won't press, already told the doctors your parents are just paranoid,” She leans back on her arms propping her up on Marion’s bed.

“Maman! Papa! Are they-”

“It’s fine, I called them,” Selina holds up a hand to calm his outburst, “Convinced them not to ship you back to Paris, told them they had nothing to worry about,”

“Unfortunately that is a lie,” Bruce Wayne walks in, a pensive frown aimed at his fiance's casual shrug.

“Hello Mr Wayne,” Marinette greets formally, standing.

“Bruce, please, how are you two feeling?” He gestures Marinette to sit back down, standing by her chair.

“A-ok” Marion gives the thumbs up, far too quickly for someone with broken ribs, “Ow,”

“Don’t worry I checked with the doctors there's no brain damage this is just unfortunately how he usually is,” Marinette deadpans, hoping to ease his worry.

“I must apologise, I didn’t expect these rumours to get so out of hand,” Bruce's expression is twisted with guilt, as Marion slowly brings his arms back down.

“It’s not your fault, kind of strange they took that risk for a rumour,” Marion shrugs, not unlike how their Aunt did, who is now forcing him to lie back down.

“Not really considering you basically confirmed it,” Marinette rolls her eyes.

“I did no such thing,” Marion gasps dramatically as if she insulted his very honour. Something, in her opinion, he gave up a long time ago to make puns.

“Here,” Marinette brings out her phone, pulling up a clip from the previous morning. Fast forwarding to the part where Marion tells the camera; “Bruce Wayne is our Father,”

“Oh,” Marion blinks at the screen a few times before turning to Bruce, “I’d like the record to state that was taken out of context,”

“Doesn’t matter to the press, their vultures, the attack is all they care to talk about,” Aunt Selina spits venomously, eyes honing in on Marinette's cast.

“I’ve held off on making an official statement without your approval,” Bruce informs, undercurrents of anger almost undetectable, “If you’d like I can organise our lawyers to come visit you here,”

“Thank you, that would be great,” Marinette beams, taking him aback, “Or um, not great, but-uh… appreciated- yeah that,”

“I’ll send them over whenever suits you,” Bruce gives a slight smile back, making hers beam brighter.

“Thanks, wait a minute- how long am I going to be in the hospital!” Marion whips around to Marinette.

“Hopefully long enough to stay out of trouble,” Selina ruffles his hair, not that it makes much difference at this point.

“My whole life!?” Marion shouts, only half joking.

“Not if you don’t keep running into dangerous situations,” Selina retorts, booping his nose.

“Technically this one came running at me,” Marion grouches, entering a staring contest with their Aunt.

“Ah-ha,” She mocks, meeting his challenge, as always, winning.

“Sooo- what's everyone been doing,” Marion turns to Marinette, eyes only slightly watery.

“I basically had to push Kagami out of the hospital this morning to go on todays tour,” Marinette smiles, willing to give Marion this out, “Chloe texted me a bit ago saying they were heading here,”

“They’re going to kill me for almost getting killed, aren't they,” Marion whines, Marinette is sure he catches Bruce’s flinch.

“Yep,”

“Make sure my gravestone says ‘living it up’,” Marion says as seriously as, well, death.

“I’d rather throw your body in the river,” Marinette inspects her nails, leaning back in her seat.

“If I go missing tell Batman she's the primes suspect,” Marion turns to their Aunt, not learning his lesson, and pointing at Marinette with a hiss of pain.

“I will,” Selina chuckles, and Marinette swears she sees Bruce's lips quirk.

“Mari!” Chloe runs through the door in a blonde blur, which splits, and oh that's Adrien. Both basically tackle Marion.

“Ow! No! That is the opposite of making me feel better,” Marion curses, both latching on either side.

“Deal with it I saved your ass,” Chloe snaps, Marinette sees her grip loosen slightly.

“I thought that was Kagami?” Marion looks over at her, Kagami was standing inside the room, behind her waiting at the door stood the rest of the class, “Or at least a Yokai that looked like her,”

“Pssh, I helped too, I was Queen Bee after all,” Chloe sits up, flicking her hair out.

“Yeah with the train-” Marinette begins.

“Enough about the train!” Chloe explodes, releasing Marion.

“I think this is our cue to leave,” Their Aunt stands, leaning over Marion and giving his forehead kiss, “I love you two so much, be good my little adorable munchkins! I’ll be back later”

“I wuv you sooooo much too Aunty,” Marion teases her right back in an overly cutesy voice.

“You’re no fun,” She sighs, smirk still firmly in place, “See ya,”

She and Bruce walk out the door, class making way for them.

“You are sure you are quite alright,” Kagami comes to stand by the head of the bed, opposite side to Marinette.

“Yes Kags I’m fine,” Marion smiles brightly, still being smothered by Adrien.

“Good,” She hits him over the head, making him yelp, “That was well deserved,”

“Yeah, probably,” Marion grumbles, hand instinctively raising to his head, followed by a grimace.

“Come on Kagami he’s already been hurt enough,” Adrien frets over Marion, letting him go.

“Thank you Adrien! My one true friend! In my time of need, you're always there for me!” Marion bring his arms around Adrien, smothering the other.

“I fought Scarecrow for you!” Chloe roars, Adrien not trying to get free from Marion.

“Adrien was moral support,” Marion pouts, hugging him closer.

“You’re impossible,” Chloe throws her hands up, falling back on the bed.

“Why thank you,” Marion does a mock bow as much as he is able.

Someone clears their throat, Marinette looking over at the door. The rest of the class were still standing at the door. Alix holding up a bag of chips, awkwardly waving. Everyone else also holding some sort of snack, minus Lila. Marinette glances at Marion, who just shrugs, releasing Adrien.

“You can come in, but it might be a bit squished,” Marinette smiles amicably.

“That's fine, dude,” Nino smiles back, ushering the class inside.

The class all take their seats, most having to perch on armrests or the edge of the bed. Each dropping snacks at the foot of it.

“I meant what I said and won't take it back, we aren’t friends,” Marion fixes those in the class that apply with a stern look.

Marinette could tell he wasn't angry, but a few snacks was not enough to mend the bridges burnt. Marion won’t let them forget that. The class shifts awkwardly, sharing glances. What do you say to that?

“Then why did you protect us?” Kim speaks up, apparently that.

“Because it was the right thing to do,” Marion fixes them with an intense gaze, making it clear he meant every word. Alix clears her throat.

“Well then this is a meeting as a class, and a thanks for saving our butts, both of you,” Alix gives a smile from her perch on the bed railing.

“Alright then,” Marion says seriously, before taking on a joking tone, “Mostly cause I just realised I haven't eaten anything since that horrible cereal yesterday,”

“Hey!” Adrien exclaims, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Marion, Chloe squeezed in on Marion's other side. Both leaning off the edge slightly to not put pressure on his ribs.

“Sorry Adrien, but your taste buds have the intelligence of a two year old mistaking pure sugar as an actually good taste,” Marion sneers, as if he can still taste it.

“You’re a bakery snob, you know that?” Adrien grumbles, crossing his arms and sinking down further.

“Sure do,” Marion teases, the rest of the class shifting uncomfortably.

Marinette had to guess they didn’t realise just how far they had drifted apart, the divide now startlingly clear.

“Well hopefully these please your majesties pallet,” Nathaniel tries to break into the banter.

Marion playfully sneers down at the pile, getting a few giggles. Alix starts throwing snacks to everyone. Giving Marinette a bag of cookies, she can’t help but smile, especially at Marion's downright insulted look as he’s passed a wheel of camembert.

“Such peasant food,” He tries to offload the cheese on Adrien, who practically falls off the bed to avoid it.

“That's ok, Lila said she was bringing a specially prepared dish by the top chef of the most popular restaurant in Gotham,” Rose squeals excitedly, unintentionally running both their moods.

“I did but just outside the hospital was a poor, sick, homeless man, he begged me for any food I had," translated from Lila speak roughly means; I ate it, "I thought Marion would understand that some people actually needed food enough to not turn the nose up at anything,”

The class gives their assurance and praise. Marion's eyes narrow, unwrapping the cheese and just straight up taking a bite. Marinette spots Plagg being held back by Klakki and Tikki, hiding behind their bags. He chews on it bitterly downright glaring at Lila.

“Dude you were totally badass!” Nino breaks into Marion's brooding.

“Was I? Everything's kinda a blur, especially after the fear toxin,” Marion directs Nino's attention elsewhere, dropping the wheel of cheese off the edge of the bed, into Plaggs waiting arms.

“You were so cool, it was all bam! and swoop!” Kim stands up, badly reenacting punching the air.

“Ah yes, that clears it up, thank you,” Marion says sarcastically, letting Adrien pass him a bag of chips to drown out the taste of camembert.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Alix leans forward, interest sparking in her eyes.

“Ah- Maman taught us of course,” Marinette answers, it was sort of true.

“She can be scary,” Kim shivers, having a selection of memories to choose from.

“Bring her to Gotham, we wouldn’t have problems like this anymore,” Nino lightly pouches Adrien's shoulder in place of Marion, leaning against the wall next to them.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she was Ladybug,” Chloe muses, well they were both people she truly respected.

“Haha… yeah,” Marinette sweat drops, trying(and failing) to look unfazed.

“I have to say,” No you really don’t Lila, “I was surprised to see you two fight, you usually just up and run away whenever there's an Akuma attack, I guess you had no choice but to act brave this time,”

“They’ve helped out plenty of times during Akuma attacks,” Nino looks puzzled, oblivious to Lila's glowering.

“Yeah didn’t we tell you about how Marinette became class president?” Mylene asks, eating a snack that was probably organic contrast to the sugary monstrosities before them.

“Oh of course, but if they could fight this well all this time then they should be helping Ladybug and Chat Noir, god knows they need it,” Lila’s malice hinting at her own mention of the heroes.

“Nah, the dudes can handle themselves, it’s better not to get in their way,” Nino shrugs, hitting himself in the face with a snack he was trying to catch.

“Well unless they ask,” No one else catches the moment realisation(scheming) crosses Lila’s face “And I know for a fact Ladybug did,”

“Really!” Alya turns to Lila before whirling around to Marinette.

“Um, yeah! Ladybug once asked me to be Multimouse, to help beat Kwami buster,” Marinette answers before Alya can take out her phone.

“That is so cool! Why didn’t you tell me!” Alya’s enthusiasm is not nearly as potent as Lila’s malice.

“Because she asked me not to tell, but if Lila is going to tell everyone anyway there isn’t much point,” Marinette shrugs, her brother hiding a grin, Lila started this war but she could win this battle. “Marion saw me detransform so Ladybug can’t give me a miraculous ever again,”

“Well no wonder she chose you, you were so brave and cool, you were beating Scarecrow with a broken arm, even before Batman showed up!” Nathaniel speaks up, always the fan of superheroes.

“Didn’t he seem rather mad at you?” Lila asks(not so) innocently. ‘Wow she's really giving this her all’ Marinette muses, trying even when they are put in the hospital.

“I think it was likely aimed more at the guy holding us hostage,” Max states like a fact, slightly condescending.

“Of course, but it would have never happened if they didn’t spread the rumour in the first place,” Lila pushes as if they need a reminder.

“Uh, Lila I don’t think they did,” Rose says sweetly, pink frosting somehow ends up on her nose.

“What!” Lila snaps, making poor Rose jump, and others look surprised.

“Well they said they didn't, and Marinette's really smart,” Juleka mumbles, glaring at Lila.

“Hey!” Marion exclaims, getting a giggle from Rose.

“And Marion!” Juleka quickly amends.

“Now you just sound insincere,” Marion slouches down, sniffing theatrically. Juleka relaxes as Chloe teasingly patronises him in her own loving way.

“Something like that is really dangerous,” Mylene tells Lila gently. As if trying to explain to a child what they did wrong.

“No one would wish it on themselves,” Ivan backs up his girlfriend. Lila clearly looking for an opening to try and gain the advantage back.

“Marion almost died,” Kim says bluntly, honestly.

There is a long silence. They were all thinking it but none dared speak it. Even Lila lets the silence loom, nothing she could say would make them look worse and her better.

“So… what did you all do today?” Marinette tries to cut the uneasy silence.

“We went to the city library,” She of course knew that.

“That reminds me, I got out some books I thought you’d like, since your stuck in bed and everything,” Nino passes a book to each twin.

“Thanks,” Marion lets Adrien take the book for him, leaning over to look at the cover Marinette couldn’t see.

“Oh actually I did too!” Rose reaches into her pink bag.

“Me too,” Alix laughs, passing Marinette a history book.

Then everyone else reaches into their bags pulling out more books, giggling sheepishly.

“Oh no, I am going to be here forever aren’t I?” Marion stares in dismay at the accumulated pile, flopping miserably against Adrien.

“We’ll try our best,” Adrien promises, patting his head.

“Selina, do you want to explain to me why your Nephew was able to go toe to toe with Scarecrow, while under fear toxin,” Bruce asks in his, I already know the answer but for some reason I want you to say it, tone. Not even a minute after talking with the doctor.

“Do you want to explain to me how neither you or Robin realised he was under fear of toxin?” She deflects, heels clicking down the halls quickly.

“I believe this circles back to how he can operate under fear toxin,” Bruce growls.

“I don’t know Bruce!” She explodes, more dramatically to get him to drop it, but none the less true, “I taught them a thing or two sure! Some martial arts, parkour, stealing under the guise of magic!”

“What was that last one?” He asks, stopping.

“Not important!” She snaps, continuing on her rant, turning fully towards him, “But I never thought they could do something like that! How and why are they acting like it’s no big deal!”

“Selina, it’s ok,” He pulls her into a hug. She lets her lips curl slightly, that might be the quickest she’s been able to end an argument, short of jumping off a roof. “I’ll find out,”

“... They’re too much like you Bruce,” Selina leans into her fiance's chest, she could swear everyday the children looked more like him.

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, obliviously.

“In this case? It's dangerous,” She answers honestly, pausing before stepping back, “I need to call their parents,”

He nods, giving a chaste kiss before leaving her alone in the hall. She sits down, staring down at her phone for a long time.

“Aunt Selina?” Her chest twists painfully.

“Whats up Kitten, where are your friends,” She smiles at her so-called Niece, a word she avoided like the plague. That is to say, she tries but there's always a rat around to ruin everything.

“Oh I told them I had to go to the bathroom,” Marinette's bright smile betraying her.

“But,” Selina prompts as Marinette sits next to her.

“I’m actually celebrating,” She practically squeals.

“Why's that?” She asks, amused and warmed by her daughter's excitement.

“The kingdoms crashing down and the queens still inside,” Marinette says in a sing song voice.

“Should I be worried you sound so joyful?” Not that she actually would be.

“It’s a wicked Queen who abuses her power and makes her subjects miserable,” It’s teasing, but there is nothing artificial about the words.

“Party away,” Selina leans back, flipping her wrist.

“Knew you’d understand,” Marinette hugs her, letting her lean into it.

“I’ll always be here for you Kitten,” Selina brushes the hair out of her daughters face, “Now go, you don’t want to miss the show,”

Her smile is nothing compared to the one plastered on Marinette's face as she bounces away with a small wave. With a sigh Selina leans back, staring down at her phone. It could’ve been minutes, it could of been hours, but she hits call eventually.

“Hey there,” She greets, betraying nothing about the conversation to come. “Just wanted to let you know Marion is awake, just as sassy as usual,”

“Sassy, I just beat you at mecha strike three? Or you started the banter and he’s just matching you,” Tom asks, dusting flour off his hands as Sabine holds the phone.

“Brother dearest, how little do you think of me?” She asks in mock hurt, Tom raises an eyebrow, “Great, thanks,”

“Do you think we can call them?” Sabine asks.

“They’re with their friends right now so I wouldn’t, I think this has been a long time coming,” She thinks back to what Marinette said, the rude girl from their reunion at the Wayne tower coming to mind, “And it's not the only thing... look, I lied,”

“The shock of the century,”

“Tom!” Sabine swats at her husband, from past sparring matches with Sabine she knows she can do a lot worse.

“No, no he’s right, as much as it pains me to say it,” She sneers playfully at her brother, getting one in return. She hesitate before sharing, “The twins were actually specifically attacked by Scarecrow,”

“Why!?” They both burst out.

“Because everyone thinks Bruce Wayne is their Father…” Selina cringes at their surprised expressions, which are about to get a lot worse. “And their right,”

“I thought you didn’t know the Father?” Tom asks after a long pause, not accusingly but eerily calm.

“... I lied,” She shrugs, letting the awkwardness she usually keeps leashed leak through. Gina had practically raised them together, he knows how to see right through her better than most.

“This might actually be the shock of the century,” Tom nods, he doesn't seem mad, great thing about him reading her it works both ways.

“... Yeah,” She shrugs, letting the silence hang, long enough for them to process.

“You should tell them,” Sabine declares, so much assurance in such a small woman.

“What!” Selina stands in shock, making jerking gestures, “Sabine that not what I-”

“Hush now, let me speak,” Sabine chides, actually making her pause, “We will always be their parents, but that's only because of you,”

Selina goes to argue, but a stern glare is all the discouragement she needs. Tom is nodding along, of course! They’ve probably discussed this before

“It’s only right that you don’t have to look in pain every time they call you Aunt,” Apparently she was able to read Selina just as well as her husband,  “It’s your choice, but they have enough love in their heart for more than just us,”  

She tries, dammit she tries, but it’s not enough to stop the flood of emotions manifesting in tears.

[koushisun]

sketches & shocks (denki kaminari x reader)

word count: 1k

genre: fluff, gn!reader

warnings: none, bakugou swears like 2 times

a/n: i wasn’t entirely sure of how to end it, so i hope it doesn’t feel too rushed!! i finished writing this at 3:30am so sorry if it sucks lmao! also this was based on this! <3 (arell ily!!)

“Were you drawing Kaminari?” Mina’s whisper pulls you from your sketch, her bright giggles threatening to alert the whole class to your actions. She stands at your side, leaning over your shoulder, hoping to see more of your many drawings. Her eyes sparkle with excitement and curiosity—she had a vague suspicion that you liked Denki, but had struggled to find any solid evidence. But now? Well, she might just have something after all.

You swiftly shut your sketchbook, careful not to slam it too loud, not wanting to subject yourself to any more teasing than absolutely necessary.

“So what if I was, he’s just fun to draw, alright?” You whisper back to her, lowering your head to hide the obvious embarrassment on your face.

“Oh, really?” A mischievous grin spreads across her face, the twinkle in her eye becoming more suspicious than innocent at this point. “Are you sure you don’t have a crush on him?” She pokes you in your side, making you jump a bit.

Your eyes go wide. Your face feels hot. You’ve never been very open about your crushes; the idea of other people knowing that kind of information terrifies you. You preferred to keep things like that secret. And to be quite honest, Mina didn’t exactly seem like the type to be good at keeping secrets. You don’t think she would outright tell Kaminari about your crush, but you can’t be sure that she would be all that subtle about it.

So you deny it.

“I don’t have a crush on him.” You hiss through clenched teeth, hoping no one was choosing to pay attention to your conversation.

“Uh huh, whatever you say!” Mina winks at you, clearly not convinced. “I’ll let you get back to your art, then.” She giggles once more, then retreats back to her seat.

You hoped that would be the end of it.

Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

----

You really shouldn’t have been surprised that Mina wanted to meddle in your love life. Honestly, it would have been more surprising if she did nothing.

But, here you are. Sitting at your desk. With Denki Kaminari in front of you. Holding your sketchbook.

Yeah, you might as well die now.

“Wow! You must like looking at me a lot, huh?” Kaminari grins down at your shocked expression. He lays his hands on your desk, and leans down towards your face. “I bet you think I’m pretty!” His grin melts into a teasing smirk, which only serves to fluster you even more.

It was good that you were sitting down, otherwise your legs might’ve given out, seeing how nervous you are.

“I— yeah, I guess I do!” You barely squeaked out a response, your brain refusing to function in the presence of the guy you like. You shove your head into your hands, wishing that the ground would just swallow you whole.

Crap! Why did I say that! He was just joking and I just exposed myself like that? God, I’m an idiot! Maybe he won’t take it seriously…

Suddenly, you hear a buzz and a crack, almost like…

“What the fuck? Did he just?” You hear Bakugou somewhere off to your right.

“Short circuit? Yup.” Sero answers, sounding thoroughly unimpressed with his flirtatious friend.

You look up and, sure enough, you see Kaminari standing there completely short-circuited. A laugh bubbles its way up your throat, but you force it back down, quickly covering your mouth with your hands.

You hear Jiro howling with laughter, obviously making no attempt to stifle her joyous cries. You’re also fairly sure you hear Bakugou mutter something along the lines of “Damn idiot,” which isn’t all that surprising.

It crosses your mind to be concerned for Kaminari, but as soon as you start to wonder how to help him, Sero swoops in to save his friend.

“Sorry about that. He can be a little… excitable at times.” Sero offers you a sheepish smile as he gently guides Denki away from your desk and over to the rest of his friends, making sure to leave your sketchbook on your desk.

“Oh, don’t worry about it…” You watch him go with a small smile on your face.

All of a sudden, you feel a slight tickle on your ear.

“So are you sure you don’t have a crush on him?”

It took everything in you to not fly out of your seat.

“Mina! Shut up! And don’t think I don’t know that you stole my sketchbook!” You give her a glare that would have scared anyone else, but Mina was not so easily intimidated. Unfortunately.

“You’re avoiding the question!” She moves from your side and plops herself in your desk, swinging her legs as she waits for your response.

“You are nothing if not persistent…” You grumble.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” You sigh, rubbing your hand over your eyes as you try to figure out how to answer Mina’s question. “Ok, fine. I’ll humor you. Suppose I do have a crush on him. Does that change anything? It’s not like he likes me or anything. So I really don’t understand why you’re so invested in this. Whatever this is.” You shrug your shoulders as you quietly explain your thoughts.

“Both of you are so oblivious it hurts. Like, it physically pains me.” Mina looks at you with a deadpan expression, obviously unimpressed with your point of view. “Look, he literally short-circuited because you called him pretty. I don’t know what more you need!”

You pause, thinking over her words. Maybe she’s right? After all, she is good friends with Kaminari, so she would know him better than you do.

“I mean, I guess you have a point…”

“Exactly! So go get your man!” She grins at you, pleased that she managed to convince you of what she knew to be true.

You look at her with a new found determination shining in your eyes.

“You know what? You’re right! I will!” You turn to look for Kaminari, only to remember what had just happened when you see Jiro still laughing.

“Well, maybe now’s not the best time.” You say with a small chuckle.

[zontiky]

Hey for bullet point AUs ideas (you were asking for them right..?) 2010s-type sitcom (like Community or B99) AU! What Silly Sitcom Tropes would the siblings get into?

i actually havent seen either of those shows 😳 nor do i watch sitcoms, but to my knowledge u SIT and u are ENTERTAINED so everybody SIT DOWN and i will ENTERTAIN ✨✨

(wait are disney shows sitcoms? because when i think abt older tv humor i get slapped in the face with bits of disney tv i managed to catch as a kid. my entire sense of humor thru elementary school was based on that. ok i can be funny i promise here we go)

diego: wait... so she’s... our sister?

*laugh track plays*

grace has a laugh track function because i think thats extremely cursed and also hilarious.

reginald building himself a robot wife: what do kids these days like? humor? is humor still popular? yeah im adding it

there’s a christmas episode but it’s very obvious that none of them have ever fucking celebrated and half of them don’t fucking want to skjhfs

is wacky ringtones a thing? patch calls diego to help her out in the hotel and the dial tone is britney’s toxic

britney obviously exists in the tua universe and i will accept nothing less. a world without britney is a really sad one and like i know tuaverse is kinda shit what with the apocalypse happening thrice and the music cult and all but like come on... its not THAT bad. it cant be

luther’s coat gets torn off and there’s a slightly smaller, other coat underneath

that gets ripped off too and he’s wearing a tshirt

YOU KNOW THE GAG WHERE A CHARACTER JUST KEEPS PULLING WEAPONS OUT OF THEIR CLOTHES, WHERE THERE SHOULD NOT PHYSICALLY BE ROOM FOR WEAPONS? FIVE

or lila

i think that would be really funny with either of them tbh

five whipping a knife out of his bowling shoe: a-HA

lila unsheathing a broadsword out of nowhere: o-HO

five pulling a rifle from his waistband: a-ha-HA

lila swinging a mace from behind her back: o-ho-HO!

and so on

every time klaus makes a joke there’s applause coming out of nowhere but also distantly, faintly, the ghostbusters theme

specifically “who you gonna call? GHOST-” on loop

ben is the only one aware of it. not even klaus hears it

ben constantly makes stupid mocking faces behind klaus + over klaus’ shoulder

klaus: guys please take me seriously

ben giving him bunny ears: yEah GUyS LiSten tO hIM

nobody else can see it. i know thats obvious but i have to specify. only the audience can see ben doing it. klaus knows ben does it but hes never caught him in the act and has absolutely no proof. ben does it purely for his own amusement and to fuck with klaus big-time

there is no young!hargreeves cast. it’s just the adult hargreeves but in umbrella uniform crouching down to 12yearold level

before slaughtering the commission board five uses one of those toy BANG guns on carmichael and then immediately whips out his impossible axe

vanya plays a tiny violin and it’s only her, every other violinist in the orchestra has a normal violin and her tiny little violin is never brought up

by tiny i mean realistically tiny. like maybe 1/32? thats a small fucking violin yall

helen with her full size violin: you’ll never amount to anything

vanya:

who else have i not made fun of yet

allisons hair is purple but not bc im laughing at her bc i genuinely think she would have peaked with it. purple hair allie ftw

leonard runs a toy store not a woodwork shop and he hands vanya a weird cartoonified wood action figure of her and she’s like thaaaanks as the laugh track plays

vanya storms out of the family meeting and her back faces the camera and we see that there’s a piece of paper taped to her shirt that says NOBODY KNOWS I’M A LESBIAN

*laugh track but gay this time*

klaus makes a joke about ben being his only straight friend and it cuts to ben passionately making out with a ghost dude in the back of a club or smth kjhwkfd

WOULD THIS BE A GOOD TIME TO SLIP IN OUR LIGHTHEARTED CRACK “BEN IS THE ONLY ALLOROMO” AU? IHFHKLHFKFD

five is wearing bowling shoes the entire first season as well. when they go to the bowling alley he switches them out for a different pair of bowling shoes, which he wears through the entire second season. again this is never brought attention to or mentioned in any way

diego drives an impala /j

little girl god popping wheelies on a motorbike in greyscale heaven

allison has a fight scene where she stabs someone with heels and then breaks the heel and goes aw :( my stilettos and this isnt even funny its just extremely badass i love her a lot 

we get more screentime with dave but he says groovy every other sentence

klaus’ ‘68 club shirt is garishly flamingo patterned

a scene where five is sitting at the breakfast table, half asleep, sipping a cup of coffee, and allison sits down next to him with a mug of hot cocoa (we can tell by the overabundance of whipped cream and marshmallows) and quietly swaps out his mug for the cocoa and he doesn’t even show any sign he noticed he just keeps sipping and allison either quietly finishes off his coffee or takes the initial mug and walks offscreen. cut scene

there’s a scene of klaus and ben in the 60s  on october first and ben is wearing a little ghost party hat and holding a single balloon

whenever sissy and vanya are in a room together careless whisper starts playing

remember that snl lesbian totinos sketch. yeah

the handler only addressed aj by his full name. ATLAS JERICHO CARMICAHEL.

dot is twice as tall as herb. i mean shes already taller than him but like, dot is Really tall. it’s implied dot and herb are married (it would be cute i think dont judge me)

when diego fucks with the infinity switchboard the thing like in cartoons happens where the screen fritzes out and everything goes black and then after a second or so his eyes appear

reginald dresses exclusively in green. im not saying he dresses like the onceler. but im not NOT saying that. *sigh* does this joke require a onceler tw tag on this post

i dont know if this post is what you had in mind but i hope you liked it anyway! <3

[ikeromantic]

Premonition

An Ikemen Vampire fanfic featuring Leonardo and Nishtha. This is for @nishtharya from my 300 follower celebration. 

It turned out longer than I intended - but I really had fun writing it and I hope you will enjoy reading it. Approx. 4000 words, fluff and ADVENTURE!

It was another busy day in the mansion. Leonardo promised his help to their mutual friend, an aspiring architect, and he and Nishtha spent the day poring over his designs to provide him with corrections and suggestions. They were having a lively discussion about one in particular, a private residence.

“It’s too dramatic at the entry,” Leo was saying, pointing to the wide archway and the sweeping roof line. “The shape of these doors, the window placement, it’s someone’s home. I think something more homey -”

Nishtha shook her head, sweeping her dark hair back from her shoulder. “No, no - I mean if it was my home, sure. But this is meant for drama. Especially that first impression. Art, sophistication, history . . .” She pointed out the similar elements. “Look here - the entry hall past the archway is almost like the narthex of a church, and beyond it, the interior balcony with two sweeping staircases and a stained glass ceiling. You can’t lead into that with something homey. The support beams alone make that impossible.”

Leonardo sighed. “Suppose you’re right, cara. I guess I just don’t like it much. The other designs are better. There’s more warmth to them.” He kicked back and set his feet on the table, pulling a cigarillo from his pocket. 

“Well, you can tell him that when we bring these back to him.” She finished making her design notes in the margins and rolled up the thin paper drafts. 

Leo grunted in reply as he lit and began to smoke. The sweet scent of tobacco drifted through the room. 

Nishtha slid the drafts into a long, leather tube and stepped past Leonardo to grab her coat. 

Leo took advantage of her distraction to curl an arm around her waist and pull her into his lap. He nuzzled her neck, placing warm little kisses from her ear down to her collar bone. “Why such a rush, cara? Let’s take a moment and reward ourselves for all that hard work.”

“But - the, the - waiting - ah,” it was impossible to think clearly when he was like this. His lips felt so good on her skin, and his breath tickled the hairs at the back of her neck. 

“Mmm, and he can wait a little longer I think.” Leo grinned wickedly. 

Nishtha decided this wasn’t a battle worth fighting. She melted into his embrace, turning her head to kiss him. Losing had never been so sweet. When he finally set her down, she rebuttoned her blouse and straightened her skirt.

Leonardo, damn him, looked perfectly unruffled. He stood and put on his coat. “Hurry up, cara. We’re going to be late.”

“I can’t imagine why,” she said wryly and scooped up the leather drafts case to follow him out the door. 

The carriage dropped them off in a nice neighborhood, nothing too fancy but perfectly suited to the clerks and merchants that hurried along the sidewalks. They rang the architect, a young man named Emile. He was staying in Paris briefly before resuming his travels to study architecture. He knew Leonardo through his father, and the two of them had become friends.

Emile let them in. “It’s so good to see you both!” He shook Leonardo’s hand and went to give Nishtha a kiss on the cheek. Instead, he wound up catching her hand as she gave him a light punch to the belly - her favorite way to greet good friends. He’d barely touched her when she jerked back in surprise.

For the briefest moment, when Emile’s lips brushed her cheek, she saw a rain-drenched cobblestone road and a spinning carriage wheel suspended in the air. The momentary flash had an ominous feel and left her unsettled. She tried to smile. “Sorry. For a moment - I thought, I mean - I saw a bug. On the wall.” 

Leonardo gave her a narrow-eyed glance but went along with it. “I saw it too, but it’s gone now.”

“I’m not surprised,” Emile chuckled. “This place isn’t exactly fine living. Hopefully the little fellow found his way outside and won’t turn up in my sock drawer.”

Still feeling anxious, Nishtha followed Emile and Leonardo upstairs. She began to feel a little better once they were seated and she had a hot cup of tea in hand. Maybe, she thought, I’m just overreacting. She’d gotten flashes of intuition before this - little warning feelings or gut instincts that something was wrong or to be careful. But nothing like a vision or a dream. 

And if she was honest, there hadn’t been anything really terrible in that momentary flash anyway. It rained often and carriages did sometimes overturn. 

“Nishtha? Are you alright?” Leonardo peered at her with concern in his warm amber eyes. 

“Oh, I was just thinking. Did I miss something?”

Emile smiled. “I was just asking what you thought of the palatial design in my drafts. Leonardo thought it looked better in the sketches here,” he pointed at his sketch book, “than in the actual draft. Too much space he says.” The architect made a little moue of disappointment.

Nishtha smiled. “I actually liked it. I was thinking though . . .” 

The three of them bent over Emile’s sketches and drafts, bouncing ideas off each other. She almost forgot her premonition until the architect took her hand in thanks as they stood to leave. The moment his hand enclosed hers, she was there. In the rainy street. Water streamed down the surface of an overturned coach and there, on the ground half beneath it, she saw Emile. His face was pale, turned up toward the rain. One arm sat at a crooked angle. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not. 

Nishtha reached for him . . . and fell out of her seat. 

Leonardo caught her in his arms and pulled her tight against him. His steady heartbeat and his solidity brought the moment back into focus. She was in Emile’s atelier. He was fine. He was sitting across from Leonardo with a worried expression wrinkling his brow.

“Cara, you look pale.” Leo studied her face, worry tensing the lines of his jaw and shoulders. 

“I’m fine,” she replied and tried to stand, but Leonardo was having none of that. “I really am ok.” She smiled at him, pushing the vision’s anxiety away. 

Emile watched her, looking almost as concerned as Leo. “I could call a doctor. It would only take a moment.”

“No. It really is ok. I just - for a second -” Nishtha debated whether or not to tell them about the vision. People didn’t really take these things seriously, she’d found. She really didn’t want to be laughed at. 

“For a second?” Leo prompted.

Nishtha turned her head to look over at Emile. “Do you travel by carriage frequently?” 

Emile nodded slowly. “Yes. That . . . seems an odd question, ma cherie. But yes, I do travel by carriage overland. Why?”

She kneaded the fabric of her skirt with clenched hands. “When you took my hand, I got a - a bad feeling about that.” She took a breath and lifted her chin. In for a penny, after all. “I think if you plan to go anywhere by carriage, at least in the near future, you should make other plans. Especially if it’s raining.”

The architect’s eyebrows rose as he puzzled over the unexpected advice. 

“I know it seems like an odd thing to say, but I’ve learned to trust my instincts when I get these little . . . feelings.” Nishtha didn’t want to admit to a vision. Hopefully this was good enough.

Leonardo stroked her shoulders gently. “And this feeling is what surprised you? Here and in the hall?”

“Yes.”

He smiled. “Then Emile will promise to be very careful and to avoid carriages. Right, mon ami?”

Emile agreed, though he seemed reluctant. “I will do what I can. To ease your mind, hm?” And he avoided touching her again as she and Leonardo left. 

Leo didn’t say a word about it on the long walk back. Instead, they talked about what Sebastian was making for supper and their plans to visit the coast when the weather warmed. They made it to the gate as the first, fat, warm rain drops began to fall from the cloudy late afternoon sky. 

Nishtha looked back toward the city and hoped Emile took her warning seriously.

Theo and Arthur were on their way out as she and Leo went in. 

Arthur took one look at her serious expression and tried to hurry past nervously - he’d been the recipient of her sharp tongue more than once when he pushed his flirting too far. But Theo stopped. “Something happen, hondje?”

Leo waited for Nishtha to speak, knowing without being told that this was her story to share - or not. 

“Yeah. I’m just worried about Emile,” she told him after a moment.

“Anything I should look out for?” His blue eyes focused on her intently. 

Nishtha shook her head. “I don’t think so. But, be careful out there tonight.”

“We will be the soul of caution,” Arthur quipped, tugging Theo out the door with him. “Toodaloo, luv.”

Leo slid an arm around her shoulders. “You know what I think we need?”

Nishtha looked up at him. His eyes were liquid gold, warm and sweet as caramel. 

“A hot bath. Come on.” He scooped her up into his arms.

“Hey! Set me down,” she half-heartedly flailed. She wasn’t against the idea of a bath, but these things needed to be scheduled, or one of the other mansion residents would just walk in and - and -

“Nobody is going to walk in on us. Trust me.”

Nishtha poked his chest. “How did you know what I was thinking?”

Leo raised an eyebrow. His slow, wide smile and mischievous eyes said everything his words didn’t. He carried Nishtha to the baths and left her there with an order to undress and get in. Then he disappeared back up the stairs to “Make arrangements.”

Nishtha wasn’t averse to a hot soak, and by the time Leonardo stepped into the baths in his towel, she was up to her neck in the warm water. 

“I missed the best part,” Leonardo laughed softly as he slid into the bath beside her. 

“I didn’t.” She smiled at him. He was a gorgeous man, and seeing him in just a towel . . . 

Leo stroked a finger along the edge of her jaw. “I think that blush is something besides the heat. What are you thinking about cara?”

Nishtha couldn’t help the way her pulse sped up at his touch, or the little flip her tummy did when she saw him like this. Five years or fifty, it wouldn’t matter. 

The look in her eyes was all the response Leonardo needed. He pulled her into a kiss, his lips capturing hers, slow and sensual. His strong hands stroked her back, easing the day’s tensions better than the steamy water ever could. Passion built between them as the kiss deepened, lips parting, tongues tasting each other.

Breathless, Leo finally broke the kiss. His eyes were as hot as the thermae, filled with need. “Hadn’t planned on taking it that far,” he panted. “You do such things to my heart, cara.”

Nishtha was fairly sure she would be happy to do ‘such things’ to his body too, but he placed those large, sculptor’s hands on her shoulders and turned her around before she could get started. “What -”

“Just relax.”

That was an easy enough command to follow. Her back rested against his wide, muscled chest. There was something infinitely comforting about his embrace. Maybe his smell - that indefinable mix of sweet tobacco and Leonardo’s own musk. Or perhaps, just his comforting strength and steadiness. It just felt good to be held close. 

Leo began to gently unpin her hair, taking it down from the bun she’d had it in all day. His long fingers combed the snarls from her hair. Light touches on her scalp, the back of her neck, and across her shoulders sent little shivers down Nishtha’s spine. A little gasp of pleasure escaped her lips as he kissed the spot just behind her ear.

It was as if time stopped, and the only Leonardo, Nishtha, and the warmth between them still existed. Her body thrummed with awareness of him. The way his chest moved against her back. The feel of his hips behind her. The brush of his legs against hers. And his hands. Oh gods. Everything fell away against that bliss. He coaxed pleasure from every nerve-ending, making the simplest touch sensual.

The sound of an awkward cough pulled them unceremoniously from their private world.

“Sebas?” Leo’s voice was thick and hoarse. He swallowed. “I was pretty sure I asked you to help me keep this private.” In one graceful motion, he moved to put Nishtha behind him.

She peered at Sebastian over Leonardo’s shoulder. Part of her was resentful of the interruption. But she knew he wouldn’t have come if there wasn’t something important.

“I am deeply sorry to bother you.” Sebastian looked mortified and kept his gaze on the wall rather than on the bathers. “But there is a panicked messenger at the door. From Monsieur Charles Andre?” 

This brought Nishtha completely out of her relaxed state. “Emile’s father?”

Sebas nodded. “He was expecting a visit from his son this evening, but Emile never arrived. Monsieur Andre sent a servant out to fetch him, but apparently Emile is not home either. He came here to see if perhaps you knew where Emile might be.”

Leonardo went very still. Nishtha could feel the tension in his body, like a coiled spring. “We will be right there.”

Sebastian gave a slight bow and hurried out.

Nishtha felt a cold certainty that she knew exactly where Emile was. She didn’t want it to be true, but wishing didn’t change what was. 

The lovers quickly exited the baths and dressed again. 

“Cara . . .” Leonardo set a gentle hand on his compagna’s shoulder. “Take a breath. We will do what we can, yes?”

“Yes.” Nishtha nodded as Leo swept her into a hug. Then they went to meet the servant.

It was just as Sebastian had told them. Emile was late to meet his father and he wasn’t home - the servant also checked the usual roads between the father and son, but there was no sign of Emile. 

“I had hoped,” the servant finished, “that I would find the young master here. But it seems you haven’t seen him either.”

“I might know where he is,” Nishtha offered. She didn’t have an address, but more like a feeling of him in a certain direction. A bit like playing hot and cold. 

The servant gave a troubled smile. “Any idea is better than what I’ve got now.” 

Leonardo instructed the man to go with Sebas and prepare the carriage. Then he sat down beside Nishtha. “Are you sure about this, cara mia? It isn’t exactly safe for us to be out on a night like this . . .” His eyes were troubled.

“I’m as sure as I can be.” She put her hand atop Leonardo’s. “I can’t stay here while Emile is lost. He could be hurt.” She knew he was, but didn’t want to say so.

After a moment spent searching her face, Leo nodded. “Alright. We will be very careful as we look for him.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Very careful. If something were to happen-” he cut himself off, unwilling to speak ill thoughts. 

Nishtha leaned over and kissed his cheek. Sometimes even the immortal genius needed to be reassured. 

They left out together, into the pouring rain. Leonardo held an umbrella over Nishtha’s head, but the rain fell so hard and so thick that water splashed up, wetting her from the ground. It would have been funny, if not for the palpable sense of worry between the three of them.

“Where are we headed, mademoiselle?” The servant looked so hopeful.

“That way,” Nishtha pointed without even thinking about it. 

“I was . . . rather hoping for an address? Maybe some shop or street you know he frequents?”

Nishtha tried to remember anything from her vision that might help tell them where to go, but there wasn’t anything. She shrugged. “Something is better than nothing, right? I just know he’s that way.” 

The servant told the carriage driver to move out, in the direction she’d pointed. He didn’t look all that happy about it. 

They were silent as the carriage wheels clattered over paving stones. Slipping across runnels of water, sliding in splots of thick mud. The whole contraption wavered and shook from gusts of wind, and the windows leaked a steady stream of cold tears down the insides of the doors. The only words exchanged were Nishtha’s directions as she felt them, and the servant relaying it to the driver. 

She felt they were close. Close enough that she asked for the carriage to slow even more so she could get a better feel for the direction. They were barely crawling along the empty roadway when there was a sudden lurch forward and a loud crack. Above them, the driver shouted. His voice was barely audible over the storm, but Nishtha thought he sounded angry.

Leonardo began to stand, his brow creased with concern, but the next jerking motion of the carriage put him back in his seat. 

Something under the carriage groaned. Nishtha felt it in her bones and at the back of her eyes. A low, grinding sound that grew louder with each passing heartbeat. She looked at Leo, opened her mouth to ask what it might be. Then it shattered with a deafening crack. The carriage careened left, twisting, then falling on its side. 

Mud and water oozed in from the cracked carriage door. The servant lay against it, eyes shut. Nishtha dangled above him, held up by one of Leonardo’s hands. He lowered her to her feet beside the servant. 

“You alright, cara?” In the dim light, it was impossible to see his face, but his voice sounded worried.

“I’m ok, I think.” She took a shuddering breath and leaned down to check the servant. He was alive, but didn’t wake or make a sound when she touched him. 

Leonardo sighed. “I knew it was a bad idea to come out here. I should have left you home at least - safe.”

“I’m not made of spun sugar. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to find Emile without me. We’re close to him now.” She tugged the servant up to a sitting position to keep his head out of the water.

“I’m going to check on the driver and horses,” Leo replied, ignoring her comment completely. “You stay here.”

He tugged open the door, sending a torrent of rain water into the carriage. It stopped when he closed it behind him. 

Nishtha leaned back against the bench, uncomfortable and anxious. “Guess it’s just you and me. Unconscious guy and overprotected girlfriend.” It was impossible to ignore the feeling that Emile was nearby, and more, that he needed them to find him soon. 

Though it was dark outside, and the storm was terrible, Nishtha decided she had to finish what she came for. With some effort, she climbed up and pushed the door open. Leonardo made it look easy when he stepped out, but the wind and rain pushed against it so hard, she almost got stuck. When finally did open, the world outside was nothing but sheeting water and shadows. 

“Leo? Hey! Leonardo!” Nishtha shouted. She walked carefully along the edge of the carriage, following it up to the driver’s bench. It was empty, and so were the traces. No horse, no driver . . . and no Leonardo. 

She knew Leo would tell her to get back in the carriage and wait. That was the safest thing to do. Maybe even the wisest thing . . . but sometimes, a girl has to follow her instinct. She tore a piece of lace trim off her dress and walked back to tie it on the carriage door in a perfect bow. That way when Leo came back, he’d know she left on purpose - and on her own. Then she set off into the storm, toward Emile. 

Despite the violence of the storm, there was something beautiful about it. The howl of the wind over Parisian rooftops. The shine of wet paving stones in the flashes of lightning. The way water cascaded down lamp poles and created new rivers and streams from the roadways. It was a little harder to appreciate when you were soaked to the bone and half-blind, but still - it was there.

Nishtha tried to focus on that as every step took her further from Leonardo and the safety of the carriage. This wasn’t scary - and she was doing the right thing. A sudden gust of wind knocked her forward and she stumbled, stumbled and fell against something solid. Wooden. 

She reached up to steady herself. Her hand found a wheel, turning slowly from the wind. Nishtha felt around her, realizing this was an overturned carriage. On its side, the horses and driver gone . . . had she turned in a circle? Her mind said yes, but that inner sense told her no. Trusting herself, she moved along the edge of the carriage slowly.

Her foot pushed up against something soft and soaking wet. It groaned.

Nishtha knelt, seeing more with touch than with her eyes. It was a person, a man, and his leg was trapped under the side of the carriage. “Emile? Is that you?”

“Wha - oh hells - p-please-” His voice was faint, but unmistakably the architect and artist she was searching for.

“Just - just wait here, ok? I came to help you.” Nishtha patted his hand and then stood up straight. She’d said she would help him, but how? “Leonardo? Leo! Hello! Anyone!”

No one answered. No one would be out in this weather on purpose - and even if they were, her words were lost in the storm.

It was Nishtha or nothing, she thought. “Emile, I’m going to try to move the carriage. Pull your leg out when I do,” she shouted to him.

“Leg - y-yes,” he groaned, shifting on the wet cobblestones.

Nishtha went to the edge of the carriage and tried to brace herself. She pushed, but it didn’t budge. Not a hair. She tried again, pushing until she saw little spots of light and color dance in her eyes - and this time, it did move a little. Not enough by far.

It felt absolutely unfair to have found Emile only to be helpless to rescue him, she thought. What would Leonardo do? Well, he would probably just lift the carriage because vampire. So . . . she paced around the carriage, ignoring the rain as she thought it out. 

Leverage.

The thought struck like one of those lightning bolts. It didn’t take long to find a chunk of detritus to use as the fulcrum. It took a little longer to find a good stick though. One narrow enough to wedge under the carriage side but thick enough to *probably* handle the load. 

Nishtha struggled it into place and then went to check Emile. 

His breathing was shallow. His eyes were shut. 

“Emile?” She poked his chest. “Emile! Wake up! I’m going to lift the carriage. You need to pull your leg out!”

Nothing.

She slapped his cheek lightly. “Emile!”

Nothing.

She slapped harder, hard enough that it stung her cold-numbed hand.

“Ah! Ow! I - I was - oh hells . . .”

“Emile, you need to pull your leg when the carriage lifts. Can you do that?”

The architect nodded. 

“Good. Stay awake. Pull your leg out when you can.” She gave him a good shake and then went back to her lever. If this didn’t work, she wasn’t sure what else to try. Maybe wait for the water to rise high enough to float the carriage away. Nishtha almost laughed. 

It was do or die time. She grabbed the end of the stick and put all her strength into tugging it to the ground. At first, it seemed like she wasn’t going to be able to get it to move. Nothing shifted and the lever creaked as she pulled. Then, slowly, it began to lower. And on the other side, the edge of the carriage rose. 

Nishtha wanted to laugh but she didn’t have the breath to. She just kept pulling, then pushing, for all she was worth. “E-Emile! Pull! Your! Leg!” She didn’t think he could hear her over the storm. “Emile!”

She held as long as she could, until her muscles shook. Until her arms stopped aching and began to feel like hot-drawn glass. Then she let go and leapt back. The lever jerked up and the carriage fell down with a crash.

“Emile?” She ran to check on him and found him partially sitting up. He’d pulled his leg free - just like she told him to.

“Y-you were right. About. Carriages. Tried to walk and - and it got me . . . anyhow.” Emile panted. 

“Don’t worry about that now. Can you stand? We need to get you out of the rain.” His skin was like ice, and his eyes were too round. He was shivering, in shock and half-drowned. 

Emile tried to stand on his good leg, but couldn’t even get to his knees. Nishtha tried to help him, but she was spent. Her body rebelled against the notion of supporting even half the weight of a full-grown man. 

She turned, casting about for some solution. Some idea. There had to be a way . . . 

“Cara.” A single word from the tempest, and then she was pulled tight in an embrace. Leonardo’s chest was as wet and cold as everything else tonight, but he felt so good. For just a breath, she clung to him in relief. 

“I found Emile. He’s over there-” she gestured toward the carriage. She couldn’t see it even from just these few steps away. 

Leo laughed softly and pressed a kiss to her head. “You are so stubborn. But that is part of what I love about you. Come on. Let’s go get Emile.”

The found the architect just as she’d left him, barely holding himself up out of the rainwater. Leonardo lifted him up and together they walked two blocks over to an inn. This was where Leo had taken the driver and the servant. Both men were in beds upstairs, waiting on a doctor. And now Emile joined them. 

Nishtha sat down at the bar and sipped at a brandy. It warmed her from the inside out and she finally stopped shivering. She was the only patron in the tavern area. Even the bartender was upstairs, seeing to the injured men.

Leonardo came up behind her and settled a thick quilt over her shoulders. “You are something else, cara. I still can’t figure out how you knew where to find Emile - or how you managed to move that carriage.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

“The carriage was easy - I just used a lever.” She pouted. “I told you how I knew about Emile.” No one ever believed her. She had hoped Leo might, but . . . 

He spun her stool around to face him. “My clever beauty.” He patted her head, smoothing the tangles of her wet hair back. “I understood what you said. Just not how it works. I have so many questions.”

“So . . . you believe me?” 

Leonardo nodded, his expression turning serious. “I never doubted you. I already trusted you with my heart. After that, this is a small thing.” He sat down and pulled her into his lap. 

He felt so warm. Better than the brandy. And he’d believed her! The whole time. Nishtha snuggled against his chest. 

“This reminds me of the work Comte and I did in metaphysical alchemy. I think it was 1673? No . . . maybe ‘74?” He stroked her back lightly as he talked. 

The two of them fell into conversation as easily as apples from trees. If anyone had been in the tavern to hear them, it would have sounded like madhouse-chatter. Alchemy, philosophy, and religion from across centuries blending as if it belonged that way. And it did, just as Leonardo and Nishtha fit together. 

[ryuichirou]

Okay I kind of want that essay now on Levi being a cutie just so I can see the manga caps 🥺 hope you’re having a good day! ❤️❤️ your art is stunning btw 💕

Thank you for your kind words about my art!

You want an essay – you get an essay! ❤️ Thank you very much for being interested in my long posts! And I’m sorry it took so long. 

So yeah, why I think Levi is cute and how manga canon supports this claim.

This argument might sound subjective, but I feel like Levi resembles a cat a lot.

His personality, his movements, his body proportions: he is muscular and very strong and agile, but he also looks rather slim and almost elegant when he moves. He’s very fast and extremely strong, but he is also very small.

He looks aloof at first, but he likes talking to others from time to time. Sometimes he’s even too talkative. You can notice this type of behaviour in cats too from time to time, when they’re just present in a room just because all the people gathered there. That’s a silly comparison, but facts about Levi here can stay anyway.

I feel like people usually see him as someone who’s strict and somehow aggressive, but this isn’t quite the case. He’s caring, he’s tender, he often thinks about how people around him feel both physically and mentally.

Sometimes he doesn’t know how to express that he cares, but those close to him just know that, and they know what he’s trying to say.

I love this scene for a lot of reasons, but Erwin’s little laugh as a reply to Levi’s threat is my best thing ever: he KNOWS what Levi’s trying to say and that Levi’s worried.

Ok this is a very sad start of the post lol, let’s continue with something more fun.

To me, Levi’s constant bitching also feels very cute. Especially the fact that he is self aware about this side of him and he straight up just says “yeah I’m just being a jerk, let me bitch a little ok, I just have to whine this is my ritual”.

And boy o boy does he bitch A LOT.

vvvv This one is also cute because he made a silly joke about Erwin just to start a conversation with Eren, he legit tried to cheer him up a little. Adorable. Levi always knows when Eren feels down, he’s very sensitive to his mood and pays great attention to it.

Ok so this is where we’re entering the Zevi Territory. I’m sorry, but his chemistry with Zeke is something else, they flirt so much it’s almost scary.

As we all know, they bicker quite often, since I think Zeke is the only person who actually reacts to Levi’s snarky little remarks. That’s the first time in a while when someone’s able to do that + Levi can’t just beat the shit out of Zeke for that, so that’s why we have so many dialogues. What Zeke also does is teasing Levi to the point when he just MUMBLES CUTELY AND QUIETLY TO HIMSELF.

What was this response, Levi?? You know damn well you didn’t have to answer that stupid remark about being popular, but you did anyway huh. Because you got shy, you cutie. How do I know this is a cute reply? Because the Japanese sentence was noted to sound surprisingly cute, he used a cute wording there, so even Levi’s Japanese fans got surprised.

And as far as I know this isn’t the only time when Levi mumbled something quietly while being kind of embarrassed. When I was trying to find something on some kind of jpn forums/blog sites I’ve seen people mention that he uses surprisingly cute wording in these situations, but I can’t explain anything here – I don’t know Japanese lol and used a translator for the article. You can check it out yourself, it’s number 8 on this list. My point is that it’s one of separate reasons why fans love Levi, so my guess is that it’s at least somewhat important to his character.

Moving on to his appearance. After rereading the manga we realized that Levi’s face is actually very… round-ish. He doesn’t have a strong chin, his nose is small, his lips are small. He looks exactly like his mother.

And I have to mention the most obvious thing. We all know that Levi is smol, but when you actually look at him you start to realize HOW SMOL HE ACTUALLY IS. Sometimes I think that Maybe I’m exaggerating, but then I open the manga and see this.

Guys.

He’s very small (look at the level of their shoulders).

And what I love about is that it gets acknowledged, but this isn’t his only personality trait. It’s very subtle, but it’s there. Isayama LOVES to tease him about it, and this is always so funny to me. When Levi is just too small to fit into the frame with the rest of the gang, it’s so cute and hilarious at the same time. This happens quite often, I’m sure there is a compilation of these panels somewhere lol. If there isn’t, I need to make it...

And this…

“H o w  d a r e   y o u”

And yes I HAVE to mention the clown incident. I just have to. The man was straight up mistaken for a child. Once again, he’s being cutely teased by the manga and I love it lol.

And when Levi turned around, the clown CONTINUED to treat him as a child even after seeing his face. This situation at least shows that Levi’s face is not old-looking.

Isayama also LOVES showing how small and cute Levi is on the official art as well.

And yeah I know, zevi territory again, but please look at how PATIENT Levi is being here. He just lets Zeke backhug him. And of course he’s looking at the camera like he’s in “the Office”, but to me this situation has such a strong “being bread is fine actually, I don’t care anymore” vibe lol. I love this image so much. It also shows that Isayama doesn’t treat Levi (or any other character) seriously and that he most likely has tons of fun while writing their arguments.

Speaking of Isayama, let’s look at his sketches of Levi.

You know what I’m going to say, right? LOOK HOW CUTE-

But seriously though, I know Yams doesn’t have a reputation of the best artist out there, but I think these sketches are a good example of how he sees Levi’s character. He’s being rather passive, patient, mumbling something and just chilling. In one word, being cute.

What I also wanted to mention is Isayama’s remarks on how he created Levi from that Shingeki no Kyojin Encyclopedia thingie. I don’t know what word he used in the original (if somebody knows, please feel free to throw it at me, I’m interested; my guess is 綺麗, kirei), but I think that the word “pretty” is very specific. They used neither “beautiful” nor “handsome”, they chose PRETTY.

So yeah, I think that Isayama views him as grumpy old man who is also a cute little bean, and he never forgets about it.

Just… ugh look at it. What kind of baby sling situation is this. AND I KNOW I ALREADY MADE THAT JOKE D:

In conclusion, yes, of course Levi is strong and important and stoic (not all the time though lol), I know he has muscles, I know he seems intimidating to other characters sometimes, and I love him to death, but I don’t think taking him too seriously is a good thing. Taking any character too seriously isn’t a good thing.

Isayama doesn’t hide that he created a pretty smol boi character when he first drew Levi, he doesn’t hide that he thinks Levi is adorable. And funny. If Isayama wanted to change the way he drew Levi, he would’ve already done it a long time ago. He knows how to draw manly man faces.

And I love it about Levi. I wouldn’t want him to be any other way.

[caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma]

Map of the Soul, Drabble #2

Drabble #2 - A Prom Dress Fit for a Princess

Pairing: Hoseok x reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 7K+

Warnings: NSFW 18+ cursing, sexual tension, groping, oral sex (m/f receiving), fingering, suggestive language, protected consensual sex, 

“Why can’t we just have a normal theme for Prom?” you scoffed while looking at the garish poster in the hallway. “This theme is totally isolating people who are planning on going to Prom without dates.”

“Costumes aren’t just for couples, sweetheart,” a warm voice mutters behind you. “Must you make everything into an argument?”

You grinned at the playful tone in his voice, but you couldn’t shake the need to validate your argument. You refused to turn around because you knew that the moment you saw that heart-shaped smile, you’d lose any and all conviction in furthering your point.

“I’m just saying that not everyone is going to fit into this theme,” you continued. “What if someone wanted to go alone or in a group? What do those people do for costumes? The only depictions on this poster are couples. That’s very discouraging.”

“What is so discouraging about Romeo & Juliet?” the voice countered. “That’s classic literature and totally your thing.”

“A poor example, at best,” you snorted. “Unless you’re trying to go for a lame teenage romance gone completely wrong. They would not be my first choice in literary couples.”

“Oh yeah?” the voice challenged. “Name one better than Romeo & Juliet. I dare you.”

“The Little Prince and his Rose,” you argued. “Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy! Shrek and Fiona!”

Suddenly, you were whirled around and into the arms of a very handsome and very annoyed boy who was clearly not happy with your examples.

“There is no way I’m painting myself green,” the handsome boy growled. “There are limits to my love, sweetheart.”

“What are you talking about?” you snickered at him. “You were going to be Fiona. I was going to be Shrek. Haven’t you heard of genderbent costumes, Hobi?”

Jung Hoseok rolled his eyes at you as you burst into a fit of giggles imagining him in a green ensemble complete with red wig and golden tiara. Your giggles ceased abruptly as he tugged you into a nook in the hallway and pressed his lips onto yours. It was a simple kiss, but it was enough to shut you up. Before either of you got any ideas about flaunting your PDA in the middle of the high school, Hoseok pulled away and shook his head in mock exasperation.  You’d been dating for nearly a year and you still knew exactly what to do and say to get him riled up and pouting.  

“You’re always teasing me, sweetheart,” Hoseok whined cutely. “One of these days, I’m going to have to punish you for being so mean to me.”

“I’m sorry, Hobi,” you cooed. “It’s just so much fun to see your feathers all ruffled.”

“No feathers and no sequins,” Hoseok commanded. “Like I said before, I have limits.”

“Fine, then we won’t be Shrek and Fiona,” you relented. “I’m sure we can figure out an amazing costume for Prom. But seriously, honey, the Prom committee should try to make some posters that are more inclusive. Maybe like group or solo costumes?”

“Ok, ok,” Hoseok exclaimed. “I will talk to our marketing person and see if they can make some extra posters. I can’t have the Prom Committee Chair’s girlfriend starting a ruckus over inclusivity.”

“Thank you, my love,” you replied while planting a kiss on his flushed cheek. “Now, let’s get to class. We’re starting a new project in Theatre today.”

Hand in hand, the two of you rushed off to your next class with thoughts of Prom floating around your head. -------------------------------

“This is going to be an amazing project, baby!” Hoseok cheered. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Well, yeah,” you sighed. “But there are just so many options, it’s difficult to choose just one.” 

Your Theatre teacher’s words echoed in your mind and you scrolled through the search results on your phone.

Your next project is to create a Fairy Tale Performance. Choose a fairytale, create your own costumes, props, and design a set. You will be performing for the elementary students in about three weeks and you will be graded on your theatrical choices and how the audience reacts to your performance.

“What about Hansel and Gretel?” you suggested. “I think you’d look cute in lederhosen and I can totally pull off wooden clogs and braids.”

“Ewww, pass,” Hoseok winced. “That would require a lot of set design and we’d have to find a witch. I want something that is just for the two of us.”

“Ok, then what about Rapunzel?” you offered. “It might be fun to make a massive braided wig and drape it all over the stage.”

“What is it with you and braids?” Hoseok chuckled. “No, I think we can do better.”

“Well, then you pick something, Hobi,” you huffed. “I’ve already suggested over a dozen different fairy tales. What exactly are you looking for?”

“Something unique,” he smiled. “Something just for us.”

Hand in hand, you were both deep in thought as you arrived at the community theatre to visit Hoseok’s mother. She was the head seamstress in the costume department, and Hoseok started interning as her assistant the summer before his senior year. Throughout his tenure at the theatre, Hoseok gained invaluable knowledge and skills about sewing, costuming, and all things theatre.

“Hello, Mama,” Hoseok chirped as he popped his head into the costume shop. “What are you working on today?”

Hoseok’s mother smiled softly while running layers of fabric through her sewing machine. Yards and yards of colorful silks and satin were draped across her mannequins and you marveled at the scene before you.

“Hello, my son,” Mrs. Jung replied after lifting her needle and cutting away the excess from the garment she was working on. “I’m prepping costumes for the next musical production that is set to start in about a month. It’s going to be a large cast, so I need to have some starter costumes ready for fittings. What about you two? To what do I owe this honor?

“We have a project for our Theatre class,” Hoseok explained. “I was hoping I could convince my wonderful mother to help me make some costumes.”

Mrs. Jung chuckled slightly and walked over to an empty mannequin to drape the newly sewn garment. She began pinning more pieces to the costume and she motioned in your direction to get more pins, which you quickly brought to her.

“Thank you, dear,” she said while pinching your cheek playfully. “It’s so lovely having someone around who helps me instead of demanding more work in my already busy schedule.”

“Mama,” Hoseok whined cutely. “You know I would do this on my own if I could-”

“Well, that’s wonderful,” Mrs. Jung cheered. “I’m so glad that you’ve finally realized your potential, son. Use whatever you need in the shop, but please try to stay out of my way. Mama has a big production coming up and these costumes are excessively complicated to create. I’m so proud of you, Hoseokie.”

With a pat on his chin, Mrs. Jung was able to help Hoseok close his dropped jaw and she tossed a wink your way as she walked into her supply closet. Hoseok dropped his head in defeat and pouted as he walked toward you.

“I guess we’re on our own, baby,” Hoseok grumbled. “I thought for sure she’d help me out with some ideas.”

“Hobi, didn’t you hear her?” you admonished softly. “She knows you can do this on your own, and besides, she’s hella busy right now. I think we can do this, yeah?”

Hoseok sighed and sank into a seat at the spare drafting table in the costume shop. All throughout the summer, this station was his little creative corner. The two of you had even written your names on the wall by his station, complete with hearts and flowers. You glanced at the empty table and decided to help your grumpy honey along with his creative process. 

You grabbed a sketch pad and several pencils from a nearby shelf and placed them on the table in front of him. When he refused to budge, you took up a pencil and started sketching out stick figures with your amateur drawing skills. Under each figure, you wrote the words “Prince” and “Princess” and looked up at him with your imploring eyes.

“Ok, Hobi, here’s the deal,” you began. “I will be your assistant seamstress if you can design us some costumes fit for royalty. If we’re going to put so much effort into this project, we might as well get more use out of these costumes. Let’s make them so nice that we can wear them to Prom. This will be our couple’s costume!”

“I thought you were against the couple's costumes,” Hoseok challenged. “Weren’t you just giving me grief about this at school, my love?”

“I was challenging the committee’s lack of inclusion, not the couple’s costumes,” you corrected. “Besides, we’re a couple. We should go as a matching pair. Just us.”

Hoseok sighed and pulled you into his arms with a whiny groan. You could actually feel him smiling into the crook of your neck, so you allowed him a little time to get all the exaggerated dismay out of his system. After planting a kiss on your forehead, Hoseok finally relented and grabbed the pencil out of your hand.

“Ok, fine,” he grumbled playfully. “I’ll design us some fairytale/Prom outfits, but I need something to go off of. Break out those books you got from the library and let’s pick our royal pair.”

Mrs. Jung wandered out as you were perusing the books next to the workstation and when she looked over Hoseok’s shoulder to see him sketching out foundational design concepts, she hummed thoughtfully.

Hoseok stopped drawing and tapped his pencil on the table, signaling his slight annoyance at his mother’s hovering.

“Yes, Mama?” Hoseok asked sweetly. “Did you want to say something?”

“Oh, no, sweetheart,” Mrs. Jung assured him. “I was just looking at your sketches. What is your project exactly?”

“We have to perform a fairytale for the elementary students,” you explained. “But we also want to use the costumes for Prom, so I’m trying to find a prince and princess pair for us in one of these books.”

“I see,” Mrs. Jung responded. “Did you find a Korean fairytale then?”

“Not yet,” you replied. “I’m still looking.”

“Really?” Mrs. Jung replied with a tilt of her head. “Then why is Hoseokie drawing a hanbok?”

You stepped over to look at Hoseok’s drawing, and sure enough, there was a figure wearing a stylish hanbok on the page. Hoseok tilted his head in confusion at his drawing and shrugged with a giggle.

“Just drawing what I know, I guess,” Hoseok grinned. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Hobi,” you smiled. “That actually looks beautiful. Do you want me to find a Korean fairytale then?”

“Oh, you won’t find many Korean fairytales about princes or princesses, my dear,” Mrs. Jung explained. “Our culture doesn’t have a Cinderella or a Snow White. It’s a shame, really. You would look radiant in a hwarot, sweetheart, and my Hoseokie would look so dashing in a classic hanbok.”

“Well, maybe they don’t have to be a part of the story,” you suggested. “Maybe Hoseok and I can just dress up as Korean royalty and recite a Korean fairytale like that?”

“Hey, that’s a great idea,” Hoseok beamed. “I could make our costumes look amazing and we can just act like royal storytellers.”

“And then we can wear the costumes to Prom!” you gushed. “Oh, Hobi, it’s perfect.”

“Thank you, Mama,” Hoseok called out as Mrs. Jung made her way back to the sewing machine.

“For what?” Mrs. Jung smirked. “I didn’t do anything.” ------------------

After a few days of sketching, Hoseok finally had two amazing designs prepared for your costumes. His traditional hanbok had a few modern embellishments and he was planning all sorts of accessories to accent the outfit completely. Additionally, Hoseok scoured Korean history books for images and designs for a proper hwarot that only a Korean princess could wear. Side by side, the outfits were going to look phenomenal, and you were so excited to start making them.

Hoseok already had his own measurements, and you were eager for him to take your measurements so he could start pulling fabric for your gown. Mrs. Jung set aside several bolts of colorful fabric that Hoseok noticed were reflecting the colors of the Korean flag. Bold royal blue silk and vibrant red brocade joined piles of black satin, gold ribbons, and delicate strands of beads surrounding Hoseok’s workstation.

You arrived at the theatre after your marching band rehearsal, and you hoped that Hoseok didn’t mind that you were dressed in shorts and a baggy T-shirt. Once you entered the costume shop, your worries were allayed when Hoseok handed you a simple muslin tunic to put on.

“You’re going to have to wear this under the hwarot,” Hoseok explained. “I’ll be able to get better measurements this way. Don’t worry if it’s loose. The other garments will layer over it.”

You slipped away to the dressing room to change and when you returned, Hoseok was nowhere to be found. You wandered around backstage and eventually came across the empty stage with the ghost light shining brightly across the theatre. Light classical music could be heard from the backstage area, and you couldn’t help swaying and spinning in time with the music.

As you made your way across the stage, you imagined you were performing for a packed audience and your movements increased dramatically. You fictionalized a ballet where you were seeking out your lost love, and you focused on the ghost light stand as your absent prince. You ended your impromptu performance by embracing the ghost light and were startled by sudden applause emanating from the wings.

“Bravo, princess,” Hoseok called out. “Magnificent!”

You swiped at your burning cheeks and pranced into the wings to bury your face into his shoulder. As embarrassed as you were, Hoseok knew better than to tease you for too long. You pulled back and pouted at his brilliant smile, which prompted him to assault your face with a dozen kisses. You giggled at first, but the lighthearted feeling in your chest shifted into something steamier as Hoseok nipped at the sensitive spot on your neck. You pulled him back behind the curtain and proceeded to devour his lips hungrily.

You half expected Hoseok to put a stop to your lustful advances, but there was something different about Hoseok now. His hands were not resting tentatively on your hips, but were grasping at your skin and sliding back against your ass. His hips refused to keep their distance, instead choosing to grind against your stomach, revealing a hearty erection. His voice lacked any of the whiny nature you usually heard, but instead housed a deep growl which sent shivers down your spine.

“Hobi,” you whispered. “What’s gotten into you?”

“It’s this slip you have on, princess,” Hoseok explained while nibbling on your ear. “It’s practically sheer under those lights. You have no idea how incredible you looked dancing around like that.”

“Oh yeah?” you gasped as he reached up to fondle your breast. “Did you like what you saw?”

“You have no idea,” Hoseok groaned. “It was so hot. I just want to keep touching you. Maybe unwrap you like a birthday present?”

You moaned lightly at his suggestion and reached between you to grip the stiffness pressing against your stomach. Hoseok’s hips shot forward and he stilled completely in your arms.

Before he could refuse, you reached in and took a hold of his hardened length and began stroking it slowly. Hoseok braced his arms against the wall and huffed out a groan at your ministrations. Sensing that this needed to be something quick, you dropped to your knees and wrapped your lips around the strained head of his penis. Hoseok’s moan was muffled as he buried his face into arm, and he restrained his hips from thrusting forward as you brought him to his climax effortlessly.

Hoseok still marveled at your insistence of swallowing while going down on him, but he respected your decision. Who was he to argue if your main concern was cleaning up an unnecessary mess? Hoseok helped you back to your feet and sought out your lips, not even caring that he could taste his own cum in your mouth. As hot and heavy as things were getting, one of you needed to get a grip on the situation before you got busted.

“Shit,” Hoseok breathed out while leaning his forehead against your own. “We can’t do this, princess.”

“I know, Hobi,” you sighed out airily. “You’re right. We shouldn’t be fooling around in the theatre. Your mom would kill us.”

“I mean, yeah, you’re right, she would,” Hoseok chuckled. “But I meant that I’m still not ready to go any further.”

“Hobi,” you replied with worry. “I wasn’t trying to pressure you into anything, my love. I told you I would wait and I meant it.”

“I know,” Hoseok grumbled. “But a few more minutes of this and I won’t be able to control myself, so we need to stop.”

"Oh, yeah?" you smirked. "What happened to all that self control of yours? Did you lose it somewhere?"

"Yeah," Hoseok sighed while gripping your hips. "It went out the window when I saw you in this slip, princess."

You pressed one last kiss to Hoseok’s lips and you straightened out your clothing before heading back to the costume shop. You both stopped at the bathroom to freshen up and then strolled back to the costume shop hand in hand.

The rest of the afternoon was ripe with sexual tension, and every time Hoseok’s fingers danced across your skin as he took your measurements, you fought the urge to shiver or whine or make any kind of sound that would sound sensual in any way. Hoseok was also struggling while on his knees in front you, inhaling the faint smell of your arousal through the thin muslin.

After that sexually charged work session, you and Hoseok agreed to go out for dinner, but first, you both ended up in the backseat of your car with your legs over his shoulders and his tongue buried in your dripping cunt. Several orgasms later, you were both satiated and decided to end the night with a quick bite to eat at your favorite drive-in restaurant. While you were stealing some of his curly fries, you noticed a pensive look on Hoseok’s face.

“What’s the matter, Hobi?” you asked. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah,” Hoseok stated unconvincingly. “It’s fine.”

“Hobi,” you sighed. “What is it? You can tell me.”

Hoseok's shoulders sagged as he put his half-eaten burger on the dashboard and turned toward you in his seat. You followed his lead and did the same, apprehension clouding your mind as you took in the furrowed brows on your boyfriend’s face.

“Are you happy with me, princess?” Hoseok murmured quietly. “Are you sure that I’m enough for you?”

“What are you talking about, Hobi?” you blurted out. “Of course, I’m happy with you! I love you so much, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I know you love me,” Hoseok pouted. “And I love you too, but sometimes, I feel like maybe you wish I could give you more. I know we’ve already talked about this a lot, but it still bothers me when I pull away from you like I did earlier.”

“Baby,” you cooed. “Have I ever given you any indication that I’m not totally satisfied in our relationship?”

“No,” Hoseok admitted. “But I know you’re used to more than what I’m giving you. I know you and Taehyung were very active, and I feel like I could never measure up to him. I mean, you guys call each other soulmates. How am I not supposed to wonder whether he could give you more than I can?”

You leaned forward and cupped Hoseok’s face with your hands. The distress on his face was unbearable and you resisted the urge to plant a million kisses on his face so that you could assuage his grief.

“Soulmate or not, Taehyung is not you,” you reminded him. “I love you, Jung Hoseok, and it doesn’t matter that you’re a virgin and I’m not. You are all I need, and you have nothing to prove to me or anyone else. Just be you, Hobi. That is more than enough for me.”

Hoseok took a deep breath and nodded as best he could with his face squished between your palms. You smiled at the glimmer of hope in his eyes and you prayed that he believed the truth of your words. You leaned in to press a kiss onto his lips and when you pulled away, his face broke into a vibrant smile. The glassy look in his eyes confirmed that he was on the verge of tears and you hated that he was torturing himself unnecessarily. You grabbed a napkin and tried to dab at the corners of his eyes, but he wrapped his slender fingers around your wrist

“I’m ok, princess,” Hoseok assured you. “I’m just so happy that you feel that way. I know I get a little insecure about our physical relationship, but you never fail to make me feel so loved and wanted. Thank you for that.”

With a kiss to your wrist, Hoseok released the tension he’d been holding in his shoulders in a long exhale. He took the napkin from your hand and dabbed at his misty eyes comically to drain his lashes of the tears he’d been holding back. You couldn’t help but laugh at his attempt at comedy in the midst of your serious discussion, but that was your Hoseok.

Such an amazing person. How did I get so lucky? ------------------

“Can you hand me that black ribbon, princess?” Hoseok called out from behind the mannequin. “The velvet one, not the satin one.”

You grabbed the three black ribbons that looked like velvet and offered them to Hoseok, who was kneeling and pinning ribbons to the back of his hanbok. He looked up at you and grinned at the options you displayed in your hands. After grabbing one of the spools, he shook his head and started pinning more ribbon to the flowing fabric.

“Do we need to review fabrics again, princess?” Hoseok joked. “Didn’t we cover this over the summer?”

“Hobi,” you groaned. “A lot of these ribbons look the same. How am I supposed to keep them all straight? That’s your job.”

He simply chuckled and snipped the ribbon on the spool before pinning the last bit of ribbon on the edge of the hanbok’s hem. As he stood, he examined the other bits of fabric and ribbon pinned to his creation and hummed in satisfaction. He emerged from behind the mannequin and set down his sewing supplies on the workstation. After pulling you into a back hug, he leaned his head on your shoulder and sighed happily.

“So, what do you think, princess?” he questioned playfully. “Do you like it? Is this what you imagined your prince wearing?”

You dragged your gaze across the bold colors, the clever embellishments, and the hint of modern flair that Hoseok managed to imbue into his creation and you were astonished. You knew he was skilled, but this latest creation was beyond anything you’d expected. His hanbok was worthy of being displayed in a museum; such intricacy, such craftsmanship, such finery.

“It’s perfect, Hobi,” you exhaled. “You truly are a master at this.”

“I’d say so,” piped up a voice from the corner of the room.

You and Hoseok turned to look over at Mrs. Jung who was hanging up another one of her prepped costumes on a hanger. It was magnificent and you were dazzled by the brilliant green and yellow accents she’d applied to the blue skirting. She brushed away a few wrinkles and stepped forward to look at her son’s garment.

“The line work is very good, Hoseokie,” she complimented. “I like how you took the original design and made it your own. A lot of heart went into this, I can tell. Well done, my son.”

“Thank you,” Hoseok beamed. “I can’t take all the credit though. I had an amazing teacher.”

Mother and son smiled brilliantly at each other before stepping forward for a tight hug. Mrs. Jung pulled a handkerchief from her apron and gently dabbed at her eyes. Hoseok cleared his throat awkwardly and sniffled slightly before lifting his mother’s free hand into his own. Their eyes met and glowed with affection and unbridled respect.

“Eomma,” Hoseok addressed his mother kindly. “Thank you for teaching me everything. I only hope that I can reproduce a fraction of your passion and talent. You inspire me to do great things, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am for all of the time we spend in this shop together.”

“Jung Hoseok,” his mother smiled. “It is not your talent which brings me pride. It is the dedication to your work which makes me happy. You’re an artist, son. I only sought to nurture the skills you already possessed naturally.”

Hoseok kissed her hand and she ruffled his hair before going back across the room and into the storage closet. You grabbed another tissue and dabbed at the tears which manifested while watching the tender moment between mother and son. Hoseok smiled softly at your emotional reaction and pulled you into his arms to soothe your tears.

“There, there, princess,” he said sweetly. “You don’t have to cry on my account.”

“I’m not,” you pouted. “That was just incredibly moving. You and your mom are #LifeGoals. I don’t have that kind of relationship with my mom.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok agreed. “But you do get all mushy and sweet with your dad. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

“I guess you’re right,” you relented. “I don’t know how you’re going to be able to finish my outfit. This one took you quite some time to complete and it isn’t even sewn together yet. Are you sure we didn’t take on too much, Hobi?”

“Not to worry, princess,” Hobi grinned. “Your hwarot was done yesterday.”

Hoseok stepped around you and pulled a sheet off of the mannequin behind you. You gasped at the glory he revealed and reached out a trembling hand to run your fingers across the royal blue satin of the bodice.

“Oh, Hobi,” you whispered. “It’s breathtaking.”

You explored the various folds of blue fabric, the silver brocade accents, the black ribbons sewn into the bodice creating a fitted curvature that stepped away from traditional and spoke of a modern interpretation of the original design. The hwarot he’d sketched originally was an exact replica of the designs in the history books, but this new iteration was unique and fresh while still maintaining the original structure of the gown.

“How did you come up with this design, Hobi?” you cooed. “It’s amazing.”

“Well, I started out with the original design,” Hoseok explained. “But honestly, I just kept thinking about you in that slip dancing around the stage. I couldn’t get your curves out of my head, so I decided to highlight them a little with those lines on the bodice. You were my inspiration, princess.”

You blushed under his praise and stepped behind the hwarot to look at the intricate lacing on the back of the bodice. The collar of the hwarot remained intact, but there was a large section under the collar that was left open. The bodice started lacing just above where your bra line started and continued down to the hip line before billowing out thanks to the petticoat underneath.

“This is the most incredible costume I’ve ever seen, Hobi,” you gushed. “I can’t get over how gorgeous it is.”

Hoseok reached over and took your hands into his own before kissing the tops of both. You smiled as brought you closer to him, pulling your hands to his chest.

“A gorgeous gown for my gorgeous princess,” Hoseok grinned. “The only thing more beautiful than this gown is you, my love. I can’t wait to see you in it.”

With a final kiss to your forehead, Hoseok stepped back to his hanbok and began pulling it off the mannequin so he could start sewing everything together. You changed into your muslin slip and Mrs. Jung took a few moments to help you into the completed hwarot, much to Hoseok’s pleasure. The compliments and praise showered upon you and Hoseok brought unimaginable joy to Mrs. Jung and she quickly excused herself once again to dab away the tears from her face.

After both outfits were sewn together and a final fitting took place, you and Hoseok gathered your things and gave Mrs. Jung a heartfelt goodbye. Your presentation was less than a week away and Prom was happening immediately after that. It was time to get ready to premiere Hoseok’s greatest creation. --------------------

“You guys were amazing today,” Hyejin gushed. “The kids loved your presentation. My little brother was talking to all of his friends about it.”

“Thanks,” you cheered while carefully arranging your hwarot into its garment bag. “It was so much fun. Hobi is such a ham. He was a hit as the goofy prince.”

“And you were the envy of every girl in our class,” Hyejin sighed. “That dress is absolutely gorgeous. I still can’t believe that he sewed your outfits himself. The man is crazy talented.”

“Tell me about it,” you giggled. “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” came a voice from the hallway. “Are you talking about me, princess?”

Hoseok appeared with his garment bag and another tote full of accessories. As you finished packing up your gown, he collected the various props you’d placed on the desk.

“I was talking about you, my prince,” you cooed. “You were incredible today.”

“Thank you, thank you,” he beamed while bowing with a red plush dragon in his hand. “If I was incredible, then you were superb, princess. The kids loved you and I can confidently say that we aced that presentation.”

“Well, I’ve gotta head to practice,” Hyejin announced while gathering her things. “I’ll see you guys at Prom tomorrow.”

You both said your goodbyes to Hyejin as she skipped out the door and you zipped up your garment bag after folding the last yard of fabric inside and securing the hanger. Hoseok placed the last bauble into his tote and zipped it up as well. He looked over at you and opened his arms comically.

“Come here, princess,” he demanded. “Give your prince a hug.”

You leaned into his embrace and the two of you just held each other for a few moments, allowing the excitement of the afternoon to dwindle into a pleasant buzz. You leaned your head back to look into Hoseok’s face and the two of you smiled as your eyes met.

“I’m so proud of you, Hobi,” you said. “You never cease to amaze me. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

“I’m the lucky one, princess,” Hoseok corrected while tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “I get to have this incredible, beautiful, sexy girl in my life. You make me feel so loved. I just wish you could understand how much you mean to me.”

You shook your head at his sentiment and kissed his lips. As you pulled away, he continued to look at you like the answers to the universe were in your eyes.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you giggled and booped him on the nose before turning to gather your things. You turned to see Hoseok staring at you fondly with hooded lids and a devious smirk.

"What, Hobi?" you pried. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason," Hoseok shrugged. "Just thinking about how beautiful my princess looked in that gown. I can't wait to see you in it tomorrow at Prom."

"Well," you teased while pinching his cheek playfully. "I will make sure that I am very careful when I get dressed tomorrow. I want to look extra special for my prince."

Hoseok waited until you were almost to the door before he reached over to grab his bags.

"You be careful putting it on," he murmured quietly, just out of earshot. "I'll be careful taking it off."

You missed the mischievous smirk on Hoseok's face because as soon as you turned around, it was replaced by a glowing smile.

"Let's go, princess," Hoseok chirped. "I have a lot to do before tomorrow and so do you."

Hoseok placed another lingering kiss on your lips and headed down the hallway next to you.

It's time. ------------------

The lights were flashing and the music was pulsating throughout the ballroom. After posing for your Prom portraits and making the rounds to all your friends, you and Hoseok were seated with a random assortment of refreshments.

"Isn't it wonderful, Hobi?" you gushed. "You and the committee did an amazing job. Everyone looks so good in their outfits!"

"Not as good as you look, princess," Hoseok commented. "Not one person holds a candle to you tonight."

'It's all because of you Hobi," you exclaimed. "You created a masterpiece when you made these outfits."

"Only because you were my Muse," Hoseok purred. "Care to dance, princess? Let's show off my inspiration to everyone."

You nodded enthusiastically and took his hand as he escorted you to the dance floor. The music transitioned into a thumping R&B tune and Hoseok pulled your arms around his neck as he swiveled and gyrated his hips to the sultry beat. You hummed with satisfaction as his thigh pressed in between your legs, mere inches from your center.

You were both sweaty with exertion and when the R&B groove gave way to a slow melodic love song, you both breathed a sigh of relief.

"Whew," you breathed out. “That was fun, but I need a minute to catch my breath.”

“Already, princess?” Hoseok teased. “I thought you’d have more stamina than that.”

You pouted and smacked his arm playfully and his giggles filled your ears deliciously. With the multicolored lights bouncing across the dance floor and the light dusting of imitation fog, you twirled around the dance floor with your handsome prince. He spun you around once again and you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling at his sparkling eyes and buoyant smile. When the song switched to another slow song, you sighed happily and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Once more around the ballroom, princess?” Hoseok asked sweetly. “Or are you done making everyone else jealous with your unparalleled beauty?”

You nodded against his shoulder and he waltzed the two of you into a shadowy corner of the dance floor. You were in the midst of soaking up this romantic moment when Hoseok’s hands began to wander into the silken folds of your gown and your breath hitched when his fingers found your center.

“Hobi,” you squeaked. “What are you doing?”

“You look incredible in that gown, princess,” he breathed out huskily. “I can only imagine how you’d look without it on.”

Your eyes widened significantly and you pulled back to look at Hoseok’s face. Full blown lust was darkening his gaze and the dimples around his lips deepened as he grinned. You’d seen your boyfriend aroused before, but this was something else entirely.

“Hobi,” you exhaled shakily. “What’s gotten into you?”

His smile softened and he leaned in to kiss your lips gently, raising a hand behind your neck to hold you in place as you shared the sweetest collection of kisses he had to offer.

“Princess,” he murmured against your lips. “This past year with you has been one of the happiest of my life. I can’t even remember what my life was like before you were in it.”

“Oh, Hobi,” you shivered. “You make me happy too. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too” Hoseok whispered into your ear. “In fact, I love you so much that I might have built up this impossible image in my mind that you are untouchable and precious. So precious that you will break if I push you too hard.”

“I’m not a delicate little flower, Hobi,” you grumbled. “And you haven’t been pushing me at all. If anything, I feel like I’m the one pushing you sometimes.”

“Absolutely not,” Hoseok snapped. “You’ve been nothing but patient and understanding, and I am so grateful that you allowed me to come to terms with my virginity on my own.”

“Hobi,” you whined. “I don’t care if you’re a virgin. I already told you that. We don’t have to do anything just because I have before. I just want to be with you. That’s all I need.”

“I know,” Hoseok sighed. “And it only makes me love you more.”

Hoseok punctuated his statement with another kiss to your lips, lingering on your bottom lip and nibbling on it hungrily. You were thankful for the lack of lighting in this corner and the excess fog collected around you. You didn’t want to get kicked out of Prom for making out with your boyfriend on the dance floor.

“I know this is going to sound totally cliché,” Hoseok murmured against your lips. “But I really want to make this prom night memorable. I think I’m ready to make love to you, princess. Will you let me show you just how much I love you?”

You shivered with excitement and took a moment to fully appreciate the look on his face, your thighs clenching at the unbidden desire pulsing in his dilated pupils, and you bit your lip with anticipation.

“Yes, Hobi,” you smiled demurely. “I’m ready.”

Before the music could stop playing, you wandered back to your table to gather your things. After a quick stop at the bathroom, you walked back into the parking lot toward Hoseok’s vehicle. Your options were limited since you were both still high school students living at home, so Hoseok made a split second decision and drove toward the coast. --------------------------

“Hand me that other blanket, princess,” Hoseok instructed. “Go ahead and take off your shoes. You can leave them in the front seat.”

As Hoseok laid yet another blanket in the back, you thanked the gods for his SUV and the seats that folded down to a nice level plane. After layering a few fluffy blankets from your last camping trip, there was a nice layer of comfort for you both to lay on. Once you discarded your shoes and accessories, Hoseok was careful to undress and hang his outer layers across the back windows. He helped you do the same and stretched your gown across the front seats so that you were tented in with the vibrant colors of the Korean flag.

Hoseok’s undershirt and boxers were clinging to his body with perspiration, and he couldn’t keep his eyes from roving across your own body covered with that simple muslin slip. With practiced precision, he reached down and ran his fingers from your exposed ankle all the way up to the slit across your thigh.

“I’ve been waiting to touch you in this slip since that day I caught you dancing in the theatre,” Hoseok admitted. “You were so intoxicating in that spotlight, your curves clearly visible under this thin material for my eyes only. I think I fell for you all over again that day.”

You shuffled closer and placed your hand on his cheek, shivering when his palm slid further up your thigh to your hip.

“I fall for you every day, Hobi,” you replied. “I feel so precious and desirable when I’m with you.”

“You should always feel like that,” Hoseok insisted. “Because that’s what you are, princess. Precious and the only thing that I truly desire.”

As soon as those words left Hoseok’s lips, he pulled you closer so he could devour your lips, his hand tangling into your hair while the other pushed your slip up further. In between heated kisses, you both began discarding your remaining articles of clothing until you were both left completely bare, grinding against each other in search of friction.

“Wait, princess,” Hoseok gasped as your hand wrapped around his stiff length. “Let me get the condoms.”

Hoseok reached between the seats and pulled out a 12-pack of condoms from his tote. Your eyes widened at the extra large pack, and you gawked at the open box that was clearly only half full.

“Umm, Hobi,” you queried. “What happened to all the other condoms in that box?”

“Oh,” Hoseok grumbled. “I wanted to get some practice putting one on and it took a few tries to get it right.”

You giggled at his embarrassment and kissed his flushed cheeks. Once the passion reignited, you were both fumbling with the foil square, trying to get it open and onto his swollen dick.

“Hold on, princess,” Hoseok groaned. “I want to make sure you’re ready for me.”

Hoseok shifted further down and latched onto your hardened nipple while dipping his slender fingers into your flooded depths. After stroking your clit and inserting not one, not two, but three fingers into you, Hoseok shuffled his body in between your legs and then paused. His heavy breathing was either a product of his passion or his lingering anxiety. You were about to reassure him that there was no need to rush, but he started rubbing the tip of his penis along your folds and you lost all sense of reason.

“Fuck, Hobi,” you moaned. “That feels so good. Don’t stop.”

“I have no intention of stopping,” Hoseok groaned. “In fact, I think I want more, princess.”

Hoseok shifted his hips forward and slipped into your hot center, earning him an even louder moan from you. You arched your back and encouraged him to thrust even deeper into you, which proved to be his breaking point.

“Shit,” Hoseok growled. “This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. How the fuck did I go so long without doing this with you, princess?”

He pulled back and slammed forward with more force and the high pitched “Hobi” you released made him grin.

“That’s right, princess,” Hoseok encouraged. “Let it all out. Tell the world who’s making you feel this good. Tell them who you belong to.”

Once the initial shock wore off, Hoseok found that his body and yours were a perfect fit. The more he gave, the more you took, the two of you fitting together like puzzle pieces, his hips continuously snapping into you, his hands gripping your ass and shoulder for leverage, your nails digging into his back with delicious licks of pain, your legs wrapped around his waist, your voice begging for more.

He was so enthralled with you, and he completely ignored any indicators that his body was heading toward any type of climax. Usually, he’d blow his load after you’d blown him for a few minutes or after you’d given him a short hand job. But now, he unearthed a mountain of stamina and only your cries of pleasure captured his attention. There was no way you were ending this night until he’d given you several orgasms. His own pleasure was shelved to serve you and nothing else mattered.

Once you were both sated, you cuddled against his sweaty chest trying to catch your breath after so much exertion. Hoseok trailed his fingers up and down your back and continued to kiss every inch he could reach. You never felt so revered or loved before.

“This really was the perfect evening,” you commented. “I wish it could last forever.”

“Forever?” Hoseok inquired. “Is that what my princess wants? Then that’s what I’ll give her.”

You hummed your assent and lifted your head to kiss him again. The hazy look in his eyes was a testament to his love and you thanked the gods for blessing you with such an amazing man in your life. The night was indeed memorable and you were somewhat disappointed when you had to put your clothes back on so he could take you home.

“Come on, princess,” Hoseok coaxed. “Our parents will kill us if we stay out all night. We’re already going to be late as it is.”

“I know,” you grumbled while pulling on your underwear. “I just feel like I won’t get many more of these nights with you. You’re graduating in a few months and then you’re leaving me to go to college.”

“Don’t say it like that, princess.” Hoseok admonished. “You only have one more year left and then you’ll be doing the same. There is a lot of time between now and when I have to leave. We’ll figure something out.”

“You promise?” you pouted.

“I promise,” Hoseok chuckled as he kissed your pouty lips. “Now, let’s get you home.”

You drove off away from the coast with the windows down, trying to air out the smell of sweat and sex from his vehicle. Once you pulled back into town, you raised the windows so you could fix your hair. If anyone saw you walking in with “sex hair,” you’d never hear the end of it. You took another glance at Hoseok, eyeing the flush of color dusting across his face after your sexual escapade, and you smiled.

Such a handsome prince. I hope nothing ever pulls us apart. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle that.

You pulled his hand into your own and looked out at the flashing landscape. Prom night may have been cliché, but no one could convince you that it hadn’t been perfect.

Author’s Note: Just a little drabble for the biggest ball of sunshine in the world! Thank you to my lovely soulmate @xxxille-girlxxx for helping me beta read this. Enjoy a little slice of hope with me ^-^

MAP OF THE SOUL MASTERLIST

@caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma‘s MASTERLIST

[fieryfantasybooklover]

Scythes And Stories - Chapter 6 - Twists Of Fate

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

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

“So you’re telling me that… you are the escaped princess of Solis?” Alastair said slowly, trying to parse out the truth of the words. Ariadne nodded. “And that this is the infamous assassin, the Lady of Death?” Thomas continued, cutting his gaze towards Anna. “I’m flattered that you’ve heard of me, all the way here in Luna.” Anna chimed in. She was currently sprawled across the couch of the boat’s hold, playing with a bone dagger. “Of course we’ve heard of you. You’re either more stupid than you look, or truly ignorant of how much you’ve been employed by the Luna Council.” Alastair smirked, clearly reveling in Anna’s widened eyes and shocked expression. “I’m going to continue this discussion, because obviously these two nitwits wouldn’t bother too.” Cordelia interjected, grinning in response to Alastair’s glare. “If I am correct in my assumptions, you are Lucie Herondale.” she said, gesturing towards Lucie. “That is correct.” Lucie said, mock-curtseying. “So you must be the mysterious and handsome stranger she eloped with.” Cordelia finished, raising her eyebrows at Matthew. “That would be the truth. I am so very pleased that the general knowledge of me is my dashingness.” Matthew said, tipping his hat. “Ignore him.” Lucie stage whispered. “His ego’s gone to his head a bit of late.”

“Well. This is certainly news to me. Everyone thinks you are dead, Princess, and nobody knows the whereabouts of you, my lady.” Thomas said, standing from his seat. “I do wonder what casualties shall befall me if my husband and I decide to give you shelter.”

“Oh I swear we’re nothing but the utmost fun.” Anna said with a smile as sharp as swords. “I can vouch for her!” Matthew chimed in, mischief in his eyes. Ariadne and Lucie sighed in unison as Cordelia snickered. “Yes but they don’t trust either of you, so shut up.” Lucie said, laughing. “All we ask for is shelter for a bit. The world outside is quite chaotic and it would be good to take a breath.” Ariadne said, eyes pleading. “We will take you in.” Thomas finally agreed. “Only if you promise to participate in our drinks night.” James said, mock seriousness in his voice. “You’ll have a far harder time convincing those two to stay away now that you’ve mentioned it.” Ariadne said, gesturing towards Matthew and Anna. “Now, if you wish it, we will retire to our chambers and cause you no more trouble.”

“Is there anything else we can get you while you stay here?” Thomas asked them as they strolled through the city streets. The brick roads were baked in the heat, worn by the feet of a thousand steps. Spices laced the air - nutmeg, basil, and fresh fruit. Thomas had quite quickly fallen into the role of gracious host as Alastair and Anna bantered and the others chattered. “Not unless you can bring back my long lost brother from the abyss.” Anna answered, and silence fell. Cordelia turned to Anna however, brows furrowed. “What does your brother look like?” She inquired, concentration deepening as she gazed at Anna as if she were a puzzle. “Well, he has purple eyes. And he would be around my age, maybe a bit younger.” Anna answered, clearly baffled. James stopped walking right in the middle of the street as him and Cordelia made eye contact. Thomas and Alastair also exchanged gazes. “Is there anything you four would like to share, or are you going to continue to communicate telepathically for the rest of the day.” Anna asked, shifting. She was quite unfamiliar with the warm blooming in her chest like a rose, shining and glowing like a weapon fresh off the forge. It was hope, hope that maybe she wasn’t crazy for the first time in her life.

Shaking herself, Cordelia turned to Anna. “Unless there’s a large amount of purple-eyed teenage fugitives on the run for our kingdom…”

“We have your brother. He arrived just a few days before you. Shivering and sweating and grinning like a banshee. He also claimed to have murdered the king of Solis. On that precedent alone, we allowed him to stay. He’s in his quarters now.”

Anna froze. She could feel the frost of shock spreading slowly over her skin as she struggled to form words. After all these years, all this time, she found him. Her brother with his love of science and the rare, genuine smile that always summoned a smile from her in return. A warm hand slipped into hers. Turning her head, Anna’s eyes met Ariadne’s. The silent encouragement in Ariadne’s eyes nearly brought Anna to tears. “May I- May I see him?” Anna asked tentatively, afraid some cruel god would snatch him away before she could see him. “Of course you can.” Thomas said, understanding in his tone. “Just this way. We’ll arrive back at the castle in approximately 15 minutes. From there, I’ll give you a guide to his rooms.”

“Thank you so much.” Anna whispered. “You have my eternal gratitude.”

“None needed, Lady of Death. Everyone deserves loved ones to hold close. Sadly, sometimes the world has other plans. We’re just glad you made your way back to the hearth.” Alastair said quietly, and the others all nodded. From that point on, they were all friends. After all, a friendship forged when you are the version of yourself you hate to show are the strongest friendships of all.

“Mr. Christopher, you’ve a visitor.” the guide called, knocking on the heavy wooden door embossed with a crescent moon. “They may come in.” Came the response from within the room, and Anna’s eyes widened. If there had been any doubt in her mind, none was left now. The decades passed and sands of time could not erase the sound of her brother’s voice from her head. Anna opened the door, and slipped inside, closing it behind her. The boy on the bed looked up, hair messed over his eyes and papers strewn over every possible surface. It didn’t take long for the question in his face turned into confusion, then shock, then wonder. All in the span of just a few moments. “Christopher?” Anna breathed, not daring to take a step forward lest he should evaporate like a mirage. “... Anna? Is that you?” Christopher replied, voice also quiet and strung through with lights of amazement. “Yes, it’s me. It’s Anna!” she replied, joy cracking her face. Christopher���s face morphed again then, and he stood and strode forward. Finally, after so many miles of pain and oceans of blood and battle, they were here. Embracing in a hug and words left unsaid flew, the pair had found each other again.

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too! I thought I’d never see you again….”

“I thought the same! They took me away, and I wasn’t able to look for you.”

“That is ok. I doubt you would recognize the me you found anyway.”

“The same could be said of me. It took me years of planning and work, but I finally struck back.”

“And I am more proud of you than I could say. I too have blood on my hands, but I hope that staining them deeper won’t ever be necessary again. If needed, I will fight to make it so.”

Drawing back, Anna examined Christopher and smiled deeply. “You’ve grown into a fine young man. A far throw from the gangly boy I knew. If only mother and father could see you now…” Anna trailed off as a shade of grey permeated the otherwise yellow bright moment. “And you as well.” Christopher said, his wonder saving the memory. “You’re glowing. You look happy. Content.” he added, grinning. “I am… I’ve found a life worth fighting for. But more about me later. We have much catching up to do, dear brother.” Dropping into the armchair by the fireplace, Anna relaxed. Christopher sat on the bed, only succeeding in making his piles of sketches even more messy. “Tell me. What have you been doing these past years we’ve been apart? I am quite certain it’s a grand tale.”

“Now I must confess I’m dying to know how you ended up on the run with the most infamous assassin in five kingdoms.” James said to Ariadne as the two, accompanied by Alastair, Thomas, and Cordelia sat in the royal common room. It was a set of large and comfortable rooms for the royal family to relax and have fun in. Ariadne chuckled quietly, thinking over the chaos of the tale herself. “I couldn’t hardly put it into words for you myself. I had been long since questioning my parents’ actions and the way they behaved around anybody without a large purse or a legitimate heir. I just didn’t know what it was I could do about it. I trained myself, yes. In bladework and poisons and a myriad of other things. But these skills languished in my arsenal, so to speak. I was not allowed to do anything I loved, contained in the palace and all it’s parties.” Ariadne paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “The day they forced me into an arranged marriage with somebody I despise was my breaking point. Anna appeared, and it was like she was the escape I was looking for. The escape dressed in black with a dagger, that is.”

Cordelia’s thoughts raced, connecting the dots quickly and smothering her grin. The way Ariadne used Anna’s first name, how her eyes and voice softened at the mention of her, how she would always smile. The quick gazes and hidden laughs. Turning to James, she raised her eyebrows and nearly fell over laughing at his responding smirk. James was observant and had apparently also been quick to notice what she had. “I wish them all the happiness and wishes.” Cordelia vowed, before tuning her ears back into Ariadne’s story.

“So, I agreed to go with her. I set fire to the barracks before we joined up with Matthew and Lucie. Lucie was confined within a loveless marriage, so she was also eager to leave. Anna staged my death, and we set sail. Matthew delivered the note and… here we are.” Ariadne finished, leaninging back in her chair and smiling. “Not the most exciting tale in the books, but it’s my story, so I will cherish it within my heart.”

“On the contrary, I believed that story most riveting.” Cordelia piped up, leaning forward. “There remains only one question.” James said, standing. “Would you and Lady Anna be interested in joining us for dinner tonight? Christopher is also invited, of course”

“We would be most honored to have you.” Thomas added.

“I would be delighted to.” Ariadne smiled. “Anna is I’m sure still talking to Christopher, but when she returns to our chambers, I will extend the invitation.”

“Tell her there will be wine and games!” Alastair called to Ariadne as she exited. “I will tell her. I could never forgive myself and I doubt she would forgive me if she missed out on such an opportunity.”

Once Ariadne had vanished down the hall, the four sat in quiet. “I like her.” Thomas finally said, his voice betraying how deep in thought he was. “I do as well. I’m very glad she was able to find herself a place where she’s truly happy.” Cordelia added. “As much as I’d like to stay and gossip about our new arrivals, I’ve some matters to attend to.” Alastair said, standing. “I’ll come with you.” Thomas replied.

Sighing with a bit too much gusto to be believable, Alastair nodded assent. “I guess we will get these chores done quicker together.” he said, accepting Thomas’s extended hand. “Yes I’m sure that’s why.”

“O do shut up.” Alastair shot back, and soon their voices faded.

“Would you like to take a stroll with me, my fine warrior?” James asked Cordelia, eyes twinkling. “I would love to, James.” Cordelia replied, a small smile twisting her lips. “Well, then, let us go. The winding paths of the park await us.”

“Fancy seeing you here.” Ariadne said as she flopped onto the bed of their quarters. Matthew and Lucie had been assigned a door across the hall. “Life does bring us much surprise.” Anna shot back, kicking off her boots. “Did you and Christopher have a pleasing chat?” Ariadne ventured cautiously. “We most certainly did.” Anna replied, slipping back into that soft smile. “He’s grown up so much, Ariadne. So much. And it hurts and heals my heart simultaneously to see it.” Anna said, much quieter this time. “I know you grieve for memories lost, and I understand it. It is right to feel pain, right to grieve. Just make sure you’re not missing out on a chance to make new memories while grieving the past.” Ariadne said, once again gently holding Anna’s hand. “What did I do to deserve you?” Anna asked. “You set me free.” Ariadne answered, and Anna grinned. “And I am very glad I did. Now, what’s this dinner party you mentioned?”

“Oh yes! We are invited to dinner with Cordelia, James, Thomas, and Alastair. Christopher will also be there I believe. Alastair requests I tell you that there will be wine and games.”

‘Well in that case, I’m in.” Anna said jokingly, and Ariadne laughed again, a musical sound to Anna’s ears. “In that case, I will see you in about a half-hour at the party.” Standing, Anna kissed Ariadne softly before breaking apart and bolting for the showers. Sighing and filled with happy butterflies, Ariadne also stood and began to change. “It’s the beginning of a new age. And I’ll be damned if I keep wearing the shackles I just escaped.”

“To new friends, and old. To shining futures and pasts laid to rest in unmarked graves. This is now, and it’s for living and love. I give thanks for the wondrous new souls we’ve met, and the tales they brought with them.” Thomas toasted, raising his champagne elegantly. Everybody else raised their glasses in silent succession, toasting to everything Thomas mentioned and more. And then, the party began. It was in the private royal dining room, and it came with a ballroom. Thomas and Alastair had invited some other close friends and family, and Cordelia and James had done the same. All had been instructed on the situation, and planned to be discreet. A large number of suits and dresses had been delivered to Anna, Ariadne, Matthew, and Lucie, along with a note saying they could choose any one of the options. The rooms were full of life, shining and glittering and shifting. Champagne sparkled and fragrant scents of roasted meats and delicate creamed desserts rose up. Lively violin music flowed from the ballroom, and each person was a vision in velvet and satin, a walking kaleidoscope of dancing and laughing and color. Anna and Ariadne danced, quick as quicksilver and breathless with happiness. Anna was wearing a finely cut suit of ebony and snow white, while Ariadne was resplendent in a twilight blue gown that sparkled with stars and twirled as she did. “You are as gorgeous as an angel.” Anna called as she twirled Ariadne. “And you look like a goddess sent to Earth.” Ariadne called back, cheeks flushed with the blush of life. “Oh stop I might actually blush for once.” Anna said, bringing Ariadne close before dramatically dipping her. “What a sight that would be.” Ariadne mocked, laughing. “Maybe someday, I’ll get to witness this amazing phenomena.”

“You can keep hoping, Princess.” Anna replied, laughing as Ariadne lightly smacked her. “I think I will. After all, we’ve got plenty of time.”

The previous song had ended with a dramatic flourish, paving the way for a slower and more romantic piece. Alastair and Thomas slowly danced, staring into each other’s eyes. “What a week it has been. And it’s only been the first week.” Thomas said as the pair revolved on the dance floor. “Indeed. It might be awhile before we have any semblance of peace again.” Alastair replied. “Even you can't deny that you like our newcomers.” Thomas snarked back, no true bite in his voice. “I do, much to my dismay. I can admit they are fun and Anna especially is very fun. At least she knows how to drink and have fun, unlike you.” Alastair shot back, chuckling. “Oh shut up you. I'm plenty of fun.” Thomas said, affecting a wounded air. “I suppose you can be, but-” Thomas cut Alastair off and kissed him, holding him even closer. Alastair, drunk on happiness, held Thomas close as they kissed and the violins played a song of hearts broken and mended, souls torn and sewed back together.

Cordelia and James sat along the wall, laughing and joking with Lucie and Matthew. The squad had quickly become fast friends. Cordelia leaned forward and kissed James, while Matthew wolf whistled and Lucie slapped her hand over his mouth to shut him up. The scene could be described as perfect, if such a thing exists. Music and songs and beauty and, most importantly of them all, new beginnings. What the future held was a mystery, and what the past held was unchangeable. But the now… well the now was whatever the people living in it made it. And everybody present at that party had chosen to make it something glowing with love and happiness and the treasured thing that is friendship. Twists of fate and acts of free will were what brought these people together, but it was their choice to stay. They could’ve shunned each other, torn themselves to bits and pieces while laughing. They could’ve betrayed who was supposed to be their enemies - stabbed them in the back and ran before they could be found by the accusing eyes of their victims. They could’ve done all of this, and more. But they didn’t - they chose to do the opposite. To nurture the compassion in their souls, the love blooming in their hearts. To make friends and lovers and family who would stand by them through the storm of the future, the unknown, and anything else that could be thought of.