#real 'how do you do fellow kids' energy

[constantvariations]

Okay so, I like that Professor Rumpel is both Rumpelstiltskin and the miller's daughter-turned-queen, and that her weapon invokes the spindlewheel from the tale, but the guessing of the name is so utterly lazy that I could chew glass

Spoilers for Before the Dawn btw

It literally comes out of nowhere. There is no buildup to the mystery of Professor Rumpel's name; she just randomly says at the start of the fight that if Fox, Neptune, or Yatsuhashi can guess her name that she'll let them go chase the Crown

It would have been so easy, too! Just have it be Rumpel's game whenever the students want something. Late to class and don't want extra homework as punishment? Guess her name and you're free. Got caught getting handsy in an inconvenient spot? Guess her name and she'll let you off with a warning. Hell, have some of the staff lean into it for comedy and comradery

This would naturally set up why Rumpel would offer an easy out to the fight and establish how steep a demand that is for our heroes. If no one's guessed her name in the many years she's been at Shade, what hope do they have of figuring it out in the next five minutes?

But, no. We get zero setup and the payoff doesn't even land! They guess her name and Rumpel attacks Neptune anyway. Right in front of the whole school, including Headmaster Theodore! In what world does that make sense? I get that she's desperate, but it feels contrived so Yastuhashi can do his thing and accidentally break the mind control

These books honestly read like a first draft of a story that really could've been something if more time and attention had been given. Rwby in a nutshell, eh?

[muttsly]

Tragic: amusing Tumblr post chain once again defaced by unfunny Neil Gaiman comment

[vinntea]

Alright I don't have the energy to thoroughly explain myself but tldr I hate when ppl say they miss Powder. Not the in world characters, the fans. When ppl say they feel bad for Powder or miss Powder or prefer Powder or Powder is their favorite. It actually bothers me, and I think fellow Jinx enjoyers understand why without me having to say it. I'm gonna try and articulate why: Jinx is Powder. That is the same person. They aren't two different people. They are the same person with different names. Saying you love Powder implies that you don't love Jinx. That is LITERALLY the problem with Vi and how she views her sister. You may miss the way someone used to be, but that someone isn't real. You love a version of a person who no longer exists. The point of Powder becoming Jinx is to show how an innocent kid with neurodivergent struggles can fall into the wrong hands and suffer because of it. People like Jinx aren't born, they're made. If you only love the person she was before, you don't love a person. You love the idealized, digestible, comfortable version of them. It's easy to have sympathy and feel bad for a kid crying and trying their best and struggling, it's harder to love the person they become because they weren't given help or a good home to grow up in. You like the idea of this cute kid with potential. But when you actually see the result of that pain and psychological damage they go through you're scared or disgusted or angry at her for existing the way she is. This is a very real double standard and idc what anyone says. It's ok to not like Jinx, it's ok to like Powder, it's ok to sympathize with Powder and wonder what she could've been like if only she wasn't dealt those cards. However, separating Jinx and Powder as different people reenforces the idea that people like Jinx are undeserving of love or compassion or being seen as people at all while you romanticize the helpless children who are lost and in need of help. The show does purposefully separate Powder and Jinx as different people because of the very thing I'm talking about. Jinx wants to leave behind the pain of her past and pretend she's not and never was that weak little girl, so she tells herself Powder is dead. Vi can't deal with the fact that her sister has become unrecognizable to her and she doesn't really know her anymore especially after all the horrible things that Jinx has been taught to do. So, in order to cope with the loss of who she thought her sister was, Vi separates the two in her mind and tells herself it's ok to hurt her now because that's not little sis precious Powder, that's the crazy bitch who murdered people Jinx. You're picking and choosing who to give your love and compassion to, when the people you're choosing between are the same person. Do you not see how that's ultimately unhelpful and goes against the whole point of depicting someone like Jinx in a show like this? At the end of the day it's just a show and most of the people who say they miss/prefer/love Powder don't mean any harm, just wanted to get this idea out there and see if anyone agrees.

[whore-ibly-hot]

OMG SPEAKING OF MARRIAGE honeymoon with Joey or like anyone really what would Fritz honeymoon be like? Like I'd assume they didn't get one cause man's busy

Honey-mooning with Joey would be fairly simple, he'd take you to the inn or motel of one of the slightly larger nearby farming towns, and treat you to all the southern comfort food and hospitality you could want. He'd get you a nice breakfast, and flowers, but in the evening he'd make it very clear that he wants to begin the process of knocking you up. He will back off if you tell him to, but he'll make his intentions known. He just wants you knocked up as quickly as possible, and as much as he wants to enjoy the honeymoon he mostly just wants you back in the farm, acclimating to life with his family and getting settled in. It'll feel all that more real that your truly his once he can wake up in his own bed, with you their everyday.

"I hope you liked dinner, I've never been to that restaurants before, but my chicken was great. Um, darlin'? I know your probably stuffed, but are you too stuffed to work up the energy to go for a roll in the hay with your new husband?"

Fritz wouldn't be able to spend anytime honey mooning with his bride, and as a traditionalist this upsets him. Instead, he'll settle for a very extravagant one night wedding and ceremony away from the small town he's stationed at. He wants to give his bride the luxury you've never been accustomed too. You'll meet all his fellow military officials, and be shown off like one of Fritz medals. That night, he doesn't let you do anything during the consumption of the marriage. He wants to worship you, not the other way around. He will insist on some sort of white lingerie being sent in, as he wants you looking like a bride when he takes you, but he doesn't want to ruin your dress or suit. He asks beforehand if he'll be able to start trying for a baby that evening.

"Being a woman is not enough for a slimy cadet or confident rookie to simply respect you my poor dear, and I am sorry for their behavior. Being an officers bride should help, but we get new soldiers so often on the front lines, they may not know."

"What are you saying?"

"I think it'll be a little more obvious your an officers wife if you're walking around with a little bump next time we go to town. All for your safety, of course."

BONUS!!!: Mattias doesn't have the money for a big wedding or an extravagant honeymoon, but while he may not have the money, he has the spirit to party, and he knows others who do. The entire wedding reception is held as a block party at his mother's home in old Harlem, and the guests are a mix of neighbors and family. Mattias loves his family, and his perfect way to solidify a marriage is to blend you in with them. His biggest regret about the wedding is his father wasn't there to see him get married, so it's also nice for him to be around his Mami at a time like this. He loves how the two of you get along, and the two of them share stories of Mattias's papa, from when he was alive.

Mattias cannot handle it when his sees you playing with his young primos and primas, and the other neighborhood kids. Dancing with them and helping them reach the tinfoil trays to get food onto their plates. This results in him returning back to your apartment and immediately begging to dick you down, and give you a baby.

"Cmon, pretty girl!" He's kissing up on your neck, pulling you out of your reception outfit. "Gotta have you, mi esposa guapa, give you some kids. I've been shaking with nerves and energy all day, and I can't exactly fight it off at a block party. So please-"

"Let's make some hijos..."

[eustassslut]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eustass Kid doesn't do love. He does one night stands, hookups and lust. He simply just does not do love, it isn't a word in his vocabulary. Sure he sings about it frequently but those aren't songs Kid has written himself; those are Heat's songs dedicated to whoever he's in love with that week.

Love is real, he knows that. He's seen it with his parents, Heat with his many lovers and felt it in its platonic form for his fellow band members. But love just isn't for him. He has no need for it in his life. He's always seen love as a distraction; something that seeps into your life, overtaking it and soiling your motivation like a bad addiction as it conquers you. Kid can't afford distractions in his career when he's worked so damn hard to reach the halls of fame. "Love will always be a fucking waste of my time and energy," he reminds Heat every time the bluenette tries to encourage him to trial the dating pool, "Why would I pursue some relationship with some pathetic loser and force myself to fall in love with someone when hookups exist?"

Kid knows his outlook on relationships and love is unusual, practically unheard of when taking his family (a bunch of gross sappy goth and punk couples) into consideration. Eustass Kid technically has all of the makings to be a true romantic but, unlike his sworn brother Killer, he just can't stand any of that shit.

At least that's what he thought, until he meets you.

Kid has know about you since he was young, fresh into his career and full of dreams to become a star. It's incredibly hard not to know who you are considering how long you've been supporting them. You're loyal, he'll give you that, a proud fan since they were a small cover band filming in Wire's garage with dreams for the stage. He has no idea what could possibly possess someone to have such blind faith in the weird metal band with wacky hairstyles and horrible videography. I mean, Wire's head was cut out frame for most of their covers and Kid was rocking an attempt at a emo haircut. Why had you stuck around so long to watch them grow into their careers? Why were you still so dedicated to giving them all your money? And why did he find himself caring so fucking much about what you wanted?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Happy belated fictober! There's been a lot of Kid Pirates as a rock band art lately so I have been very inspired to create a fic series based around them as a famous band, here is a sneak peak of Eustass Kid's fic.

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with Interview Magazine (2024)

Before he was known as the dashing Lord Anthony Bridgerton or Tim Laughlin, the character in Fellow Travelers for which he won a Critics Choice Award earlier this month, Jonathan Bailey caught the attention of Phoebe Waller-Bridge with his confident, self-possessed audition for her show Crashing nearly a decade ago. “You came in like a fireball,” said the Fleabag star on Zoom with Bailey, recounting how, while reading for the role of the sex-obsessed Sam, Bailey asked permission to lay his script out on the floor in front of him like a rainbow. “You had no embarrassment. You didn’t actually refer to it again, but you took those few seconds to just completely set up what you exactly needed for that audition, and then you were so free.” In the years since, with roles in Bridgerton, the Showtime drama Fellow Travelers, and the upcoming Wicked movie adaptation, Bailey has become one of the most sought-after actors in the business, capable of generating sparks with whoever’s on screen with him. Waller-Bridge attributes this to the 35-year-old’s distinct understanding of tension. “You’re like a chemistry machine,” she gushed. “There’s this incredible erotic energy that people are so excited about.” Last week, from a hotel room at Claridge’s in London, Bailey talked to Waller-Bridge about longing, orgasms, frosted tips, nostalgia, Shakespeare, and his very first role: playing a raindrop in a stage production of Noah’s Ark.

PHOEBE WALLER-BRIDGE: Hi.

JONATHAN BAILEY: Hi.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I’m taking my glasses off. Now I can be real.

BAILEY: I’ve just had a gin and tonic, actually. I had a meeting and he really wanted a glass of Whispering Angel, so I was like, “Well, I’ve got to dive in.”

WALLER-BRIDGE: What’s the time there?

BAILEY: Oh, I’m literally around the corner from you. Literally, I’ve come into Claridge’s Hotel and checked in for an hour just to have a Zoom.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Oh, god. That’s so chic. Jonny, I want all of your secrets.

BAILEY: I feel like you’ve got quite a few of them already.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I do, actually. And we’re not going to talk about any of those. But I did also get to do a little bit of research on you.

BAILEY: Oh, god. What have you got?

WALLER-BRIDGE: Jonathan Stewart Bailey, I’d like to jump straight in with the fact that the first professional job you had was playing a teardrop, or a raindrop?

BAILEY: There were teardrops, but yeah, I was playing a raindrop.

WALLER-BRIDGE: You were a crying raindrop.

BAILEY: A crying raindrop in Noah’s Ark.

WALLER-BRIDGE: And how old were you then?

BAILEY: I think I was about 5 going on 29. I was really upset because it didn’t rain. The bitch that played Noah, she forgot the cue for the rain to come. So my dance didn’t make it, but at the end of the show they allowed me to do it once everyone had applauded.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I asked you that specifically because you’ve also said that your grandmother took you to see a production of Oliver in London and that’s what changed everything.

BAILEY: Yes.

WALLER-BRIDGE: So was the raindrop before or after that? I am getting to something, I promise.

BAILEY: I think it was probably afterwards. I was really young when I went to see Oliver.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I’m interested because I read that seeing it made you decide you wanted to perform. Can you tell me the specific thing that made it click?

BAILEY: I’ll tell you, the most bizarre thing is that I had three seasons at the RSC under my belt by the age of nine. There was a moment where I played Prince Arthur, the kid in Shakespeare who gets his eyes gouged out and has to escape a turret. I remember doing that production and thinking I was aware of the power of words, if that makes sense. You’re so porous at that age, I think. It is such a gift, isn’t it, to be shown what iambic pentameter is.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you still feel passionate about Shakespeare now?

BAILEY: I do, actually. It’s my dirty, filthy habit.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Your dirty little habit. I know what you mean, though, how if you come to it quite raw, and it’s not something that you’ve had shoved down your throat at school, there is nothing more epic and spectacular.

BAILEY: And being around people who are just so committed to their vocation, whether they’re writing or creating. The smell backstage at the RSC at the Barbican was like cigarettes, stage makeup, Joe Fiennes, and hope.

WALLER-BRIDGE: That’s a lot of beautiful smells you’ve got going on there.

BAILEY: I know. Talk about top notes and bottom notes. I was like, “These men, these titans of theater!”

WALLER-BRIDGE: That’s extraordinary that you were exposed to that kind of level of professionalism. Because you are consummately professional, and I remember that. You have this incredible ability to be completely live and spontaneous and wild at the same time as being so incredibly professional, and that’s why working with you felt totally safe. I know that I’ve got a professional actor coming today, but I have absolutely no idea what’s going to happen because you still managed to keep that spontaneity and danger.

BAILEY: I suppose it’s sometimes dangerous. Today I had to do an interview. Crashing came up and I described working with you as being on the constant edge of an orgasm and also hysteria.

WALLER-BRIDGE: It did have a kind of wild, beautiful energy.

BAILEY: There’s a chemical alchemy when you get the right group of people led by the right people.

WALLER-BRIDGE: I haven’t had that in quite the same way since, where everyone has equal importance in the story. That’s the thing that feels quite rare, actually, there’s like six of you and they’re all as fucked up as each other. I remember your audition. You came in like a fireball and you already felt like you had a Sam energy. You sat in your chair, took out your script from your bag, and then you were like, “Give me a second,” and you laid out your script around you on the floor. You had no embarrassment about what you needed or in front of you. You didn’t actually refer to it again, but you took those few seconds to just completely set up what you exactly needed for that audition, and then you were so free. And I just wonder if you’ve felt that particular type of confidence your whole life?

BAILEY: That’s a really good question. I’ve got three older sisters and I wonder if they are a structure. I’ve definitely been in environments where I don’t feel free, and then you give the worst performance of your life. What I’ve found in the last few years is that, of course, you have to adapt so quickly to work out what you need in order to be able to be free. I think if I don’t have the equivalent of that on the floor, I panic or get really scared.

WALLER-BRIDGE: There’s something about that, which is being able to play dangerously in a safe environment. I feel like that’s got so much to do with an understanding of tension, which I think you have. You’re like a chemistry machine. Obviously, with Bridgerton and then in Fellow Travelers, there’s this incredible erotic energy that people are so excited about.

BAILEY: I really think it comes from Crashing.

WALLER-BRIDGE: It doesn’t come from Crashing, it comes from you. I think you’re the king of tension. I think you understand what that is.

BAILEY: I think you can give yourself butterflies, can’t you?

WALLER-BRIDGE: Is that what you’re looking for, the butterfly all the time?

BAILEY: Yeah, I’m always looking for my butterfly farm. The misty, slightly smelly greenhouse full of butterflies.

WALLER-BRIDGE: That’s your tummy?

BAILEY: Yeah, that’s my tummy.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Did you always dream of playing leading man roles growing up?

BAILEY: Not at all, no. I never thought I would be able to.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Why?

BAILEY: I’ve realized that I’m completely in awe of other people and performances and creative endeavors. I go to the theater and I love a performance and I’m like, “How do they do that? I can’t see the seams.” So therefore, I feel like I must be driven by that. And when something comes my way, there’s a fear that it won’t work.

WALLER-BRIDGE: What’s really exciting to me is when I see palpable dynamics between characters, which you have done multiple times, like the relationship between Tim and Hawk. There’s so much opportunity for intimacy and that kind of danger. And when you get to play those sorts of roles, when you know that you can stand in front of each other and you don’t really need to do anything because it’s giving you something, it must’ve just been a joy walking into this world because it’s like a banquet of stuff to play with, right?

BAILEY: Totally, and it feels sort of vital and sexy. I do remember this one memory, which I guess I’ll share with you now. I did play and there was a tiled wall,at eye level with a mirrored border around. And there was a guy, we were into each other, and I remember just looking up in the middle of a conversation and he was looking at me in a reflection. And I was like, “This is what life is about.” Anyway, I think that it must have something to do with feeling the most alive in that.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you know Esther Perel?

BAILEY: Yeah, I love Esther Perel.

WALLER-BRIDGE: So she’s written about how she believes that your next orgasm begins at the very end of your last one, which is basically our whole life just building up to our next orgasm.

BAILEY: That’s just fantastic. It’s just so positive and hopeful—

WALLER-BRIDGE: And so beautiful, isn’t it?

BAILEY: It is.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Everything that you encounter in your life, every conversation that you have, is in some way building up to the next euphoric physical experience. Every single character has to have that inside them one way or another, because every human does. And I think with Fellow Travelers, because you long for them so much as an audience and you want them to have everything that they want from each other, but they’re also brutal to themselves and to each other, there is something so extraordinary seeing characters in that time portrayed in the way that you guys have portrayed them.

BAILEY: One thing that we’re all born with is the sense of longing. Longing comes before anything else, doesn’t it? Whoever you put on the wall, laminate the poster or whatever, it’s there. And actually, if you long for someone, more often than not you don’t think you are worthy of it. And that, to me, is a way into characters.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you remember your laminated poster longing person?

BAILEY: I think I had the Simpsons, which was obviously me trying to disguise myself as much as possible. Lucy Liu was a big one for me, too.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Well, I can see that.

BAILEY: I suppose there’s the laminated wall in my literal bedroom and then there’s the laminated wall in my gay—

WALLER-BRIDGE: Mind.

BAILEY: Who was yours?

WALLER-BRIDGE: You know what? It’s really interesting, because I was the eagle in the Rescuers Down Under. That wasn’t necessarily a sexual longing, but it was a romantic idea, that overwhelming sense of watching the Rescuers Down Under and being able to run out of the back of my house on my own, age 10, and jump onto the back of a giant eagle and he’ll fly me around. But in terms of just a hottie that I really fancied, I think it was probably Leo [DiCaprio].

BAILEY: Oh, yeah.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Are you a nostalgic person?

BAILEY: Yes, I think so. I think a lot about my younger self. I’m always like, “Guys, remember this?” It’s slightly annoying, but I’m always drawing a line between the past and now for sure.

WALLER-BRIDGE: That’s how you measure your life, by remembering the time that’s gone by or what 11-year-old you would think of what you were doing?

BAILEY: I think I’m probably more romantic than nostalgic, if that makes sense.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Go on.

BAILEY: Well, I just think I’ve fully committed to the idea of everything being brilliant and then I work backwards from there.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Well, having starred in two hit period dramas and also being a huge part of the fact that they are a hit, that’s why I wondered about what your relationship is with the past and history, and how much you actually knew about McCarthy America?

BAILEY: Oh, no. Have you got a quiz?

WALLER-BRIDGE: I actually don’t. Do you want one?

BAILEY: No, that would be the worst.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you enjoy historical novels? Do you live in the past in any way in your mind? Or you are kind of like, “We’re here and we’re moving forward?”

BAILEY: I do think I’m here and moving forward. I really struggled with history at school, I could not take in information about the past. When it came to exams, I would remember the page where things were written but I couldn’t stitch together epochs and eras and kings.

WALLER-BRIDGE: It crashes my brain, too. I have a friend, and you can say to her, “June 24th, 1999,” and she can tell you pretty much what she was up to.

BAILEY: That’s amazing.

WALLER-BRIDGE: You can see her go into the diary in her mind. She has a very different wiring of her brain. But speaking of longing, are there any fictional or real life couples, gay or straight, that captured your heart over the years?

BAILEY: Oh my god, what a question. What about Michelle Williams and Ryan Gosling in Blue Valentine?

WALLER-BRIDGE: I think Morticia and Gomez Addams were the most romantic couple.

BAILEY: Yeah, I see that.

WALLER-BRIDGE: They understood it. They got it all.

BAILEY: Also maybe Ryan and Marissa in The OC.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Any gay male couples that you ever looked up to or were romanced by?

BAILEY: Well unfortunately, there just weren’t that many were there growing up.

WALLER-BRIDGE: So wild.

BAILEY: But I met Matthew Rhys recently, who I just love. And I was thinking about that relationship in Brothers and Sisters. And then there was Queer as Folk. Russell, T. Davies changed the game. So many people owe so much to him just purely for visibility. There is no Tim and Hawk to a 2023 audience without Queer as Folk.

WALLER-BRIDGE: But did you feel frustrated?

BAILEY: Well, speaking of history, I was doing media studies with an amazing teacher and I decided that I was going to do my dissertation about the representations of Hutus and Tutsis and the Rwanda genocide, looking at Hotel Rwanda and Shooting Dogs. And then Brokeback Mountain came out and I was like, “Hang on, how can I possibly create a world where I can go and have a free pass to go to the cinema to watch it 10 times?” I’m really proud of my 17-year-old self, I wasn’t necessarily out, but I changed the topic to representation of homosexuality in Brokeback Mountain and I watched that film 10 times. And this amazing teacher, Dr. Brunton, who probably had an idea of what was going on, was just like, “This is brilliant, keep going, keep going.” And I think it was the best mark I ever got.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Do you still have it?

BAILEY: It must be on a hard drive upstairs in the attic. And obviously, that completely changed me, something chemical happened there. But it’s funny, I’m not clear on memories. And I do think it’s a common thing for a lot of people, growing up and having to survive and be basically in fight or flight, there’s a murkiness to how I recall.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Of course, because you couldn’t be truly present because you weren’t being completely yourself.

BAILEY: Totally, yeah.

WALLER-BRIDGE: When you look back and start unpacking it, do you feel overwhelmed with sympathy for how hard you were having to work as a 16-year-old, coming up with excuses to see the movie that you wanted to see?

BAILEY: Yeah. But I spent more time trying to be sympathetic towards the people that were around me who didn’t support or couldn’t help. I look back and I go, “Hell.”

WALLER-BRIDGE: Yes. But you are representing that and living that for so many people now. Your speech at the Critics Choice Awards the other day was so sublime and beautiful and straight from the heart. You are so electric as a human being and that is the most important thing. There aren’t many people in the world that can do that, that can stand there in front of people and speak from their heart about what it means to them to be given this opportunity. And I know that your career is just going to be the most extraordinary journey. When I first met you, I remember sitting with Josh [Cole], who was the producer on Crashing, and we were like, “If we get this guy, it’s going to be the game changer for the show.” And I know that every single person now wanting you on their project is feeling the same thing.

BAILEY: I definitely feel overwhelmed by that, but it’s lovely to hear.

WALLER-BRIDGE: Can I just ask you one question which I couldn’t remember about Crashing?

BAILEY: Yeah.

WALLER-BRIDGE: The frosted tips were your idea, wasn’t it?

BAILEY: I had this conversation today. I think it’s in the script. But my reference picture was Justin Timberlake in double denim.

WALLER-BRIDGE: No, I don’t think it was [in the script], because Sam’s a character that I hold closest to my heart because, in so many ways, he represents how I feel about maybe my inner life. I just love him so much, and your ability to play every single little corner of him that I dreamed of.

BAILEY: Maybe that’s the answer I was looking for when you asked if I was drawn to any romantic couples? No, it was just about wanting bleach blonde hair.

Source

[castingspellsanddaisies]

Upcoming Readings:

Jude and St*rino the p*mp friendship? wft is that?

Hey Jude: are you into (hold on) giving/receiving pain, biting, slapping, spanking, degradation? (I can't believe I actually wrote this down here. Well, are you then?

The people demand: how's Aurelien Tchouameni during ''sexy time''?

Drew Starkey's personality Part 2 - here we go again

Sir Lewis Hamilton: what's your type? How do you act during ''sexy time'' and how are you as a boyfriend, Sir?

What's Juan Soto's real personality? How's he as a partner, how he acts during ''sexy time''? And how's his dynamic with his family?

Hey Jude: how you used to behave,concerning women, back in your Dortmund time? And around 2022? What was your reputation back then?

Jack Draper: his type in women and how he's in relationships

When could Jude meet his next love interest? (someone said ''could meet someone late autumn early winter and will fall head over hills in love with her. She also said that she sees a sudden marriage with them) - how likely is that to happen? Let's find out!

How Jude Bellingham handles/deals with jealousy and possessiveness in his relationship? (from both sides)

How'd Kylian Mbappé act in a marriage, as a husband? Does he want to be a father? If yes, how would he act?

What's Timothée Chalamet's general personality?

What's FT Island (kpop group)'s future after everything that happened?

Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey: what's their bond's future for 2025? They worked together in ''Fellow Travelers'', will they share another on screen partnership again? Matt Bomer is married to Simon Halls, how's their relationship in the present? And future predictions for the couple in 2025?

Do the members of BTS (kpop group) have anything to do with pro*titution, se*ual c*imes? Os something might have had happened in the past? We'll see

How will Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey feel when they meet each other again? Will Matt Bomer and Simon Halls get a divorce? How do Matt Bomer and Jonathan Bailey currently feel about each other? Is Matt Bomer ready to follow his heart? What's Matt Bomer decision about his marriage, and about Jonathan Bailey?

What's the general energy among the members of SKZ (kpop group)?

How's sexy time with Jake (Enhypen kpop group)? Is he any different when it's someone he has feelings for and when it's an one-night stand? What about aftercare? We'll see!

What's the current love life state of each member of SKZ (Stray Kids kpop group)? Which one's in love, in a relationship, just hooking up, single-single? We'll see them all!!

Joe Locke's career: What will be his next projects? Will we hear casting news about him soon?

Future predictions for the band SKZ's career!

Vinicius Jr + Eduardo Camavinga: what are their general personality and their type in women? Mmm

How's sexy time with... Jihyo (TWICE kpop group)? How's her with her boyfriend?

How's Lamine Yamal as a boyfriend in a romantic relationship?

How's sexy time with... Jay (ENHYPEN kpop group)?

How's sexy time with... Kylian Mbappé?

What's Jisoo (BLACKPINK kpop group)'s type?? (we're gonna do this in 2 parts: the type of partner that Jisoo wants + the type of partner that would match her perfectly).

Members of SKZ (kpop group): which one of them already fell in love? (you know, at least once?) Which one of them already dated someone? (you know, at least once?) Let's find out for each one of them!

Will Aespa release the second season of SMCU?

Why is Ningning (aespa) being mistreated by SM Entertainment? She doesn't have any solo schedules or even tiktok challenges? What happened?

Is there an idol (female or male) who is in love with Ningning? Is she dating anyone? If anyone finds out, will it become another Karina Jaewook dating scandal?

Will Ningning be forced to interact with male idol until the end of 2024?

How's sexy time with... Sunghoon (ENHYPEN kpop group)? What about his kinks?

Sunghoon from ENHYPEN (two in a row): what's his type and how's he as a boyfriend?

What really happened between Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg? What led to their irreparable broken friendship?

How's sexy time with... Heeseung (ENHYPEN kpop group)?

Sunghoon from ENHYPEN kpop group (I heard he's in high demand lately): what makes him feel attracted towards someone? How to get him hooked? (hehe)

Who's likely to be Charles Leclerc's future spouse? Let's find out

How's sexy time with... Drew Starkey? (here we go again) + How's aftercare with him? And how does he like to get ''in the mood''?

How's Sexy time with... Charles Leclerc?

Let's look into Lewis Hamilton and Juliana Nalú's relationship: Were they serious about each other? How they felt about each other while they were still together? Why did they break up? Was she after the media's attention, wanted to become a ''wag'' or what? (fun fact: originally this reading'd be about their current status, but they were faster than us and broke up first - oh well).

Let's deep dive into Kylian Mbappé and some girls he had been linked with in the past: bertr@m, lexi river@ (he used to like all of her pictures), georgi@ may heath, l@ra lourenco, emm@ smet.

Carlos Sainz and Rebecca Donaldson: will he end his relationship with her or not? What's going on?

Kylian Mbappé, would you drag a woman out for a 7 years relationship with no ring?

How's sexy times with... Nicholas (&TEAM kpop group)? What about aftercare?

What's Timothée Chalamet's type? How's he as a boyfriend? And how's sexy time with him???

The IT COUPLE of the moment Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce: where do their relationship stand at the present moment?

Who will likely be Jung Jaehyun's future spouse?

Lana Del Rey and her crocodile husband on their wedding day: how were they feeling about it?

How's Jude Bellingham's relationship with his mother, his father and his brother? How Jude feels about his friendship with Trent AA? How Judes truly feels about Kylian Mbappé? Do they like each other? Are they truly friends or not?

How's Lee Felix (SKZ kpop group) as a boyfriend? How'd he act dating a late bloomer?

What are Lee Felix (SKZ kpop group) green flags and red flags?

Could Sir Lewis Hamilton be bisexual?

How does Timothée Chalamet feel about his fan club, ''Club Chalamet'' and the owner of it?

What are Chris and Matt Sturniolos' type?

How's sexy time with... Arthur Fils?

Will Jude Bellingham stay in Real Madrid for a long time still or he may change clubs soon??? What's his future in England's National Team??

This question is for both Jude Bellingham and Kylian Mbappé: will they have many serious relationships before getting married?

How's sexy time with... Jack Draper? Also, what's his personality? Is he a romantic man?

Ben Shelton and Anna Hall's relationship: why did they break up? Do they still talk with each other? Do they still have emotions left and things unsaid for each other? How used to be thei relationships's dynamic? Ben follows a lot of bikini models and stuff on his IG, it’s a running joke that he’s probably a player, is that done out of spite? How does he feel about her current boyfriend? Ben also said in an interview he ghosts and “shoots his shot” a lot, is that actually true to him, or is that a front too? - LET'S FIND OUT!

Who'll likely be Charles Leclerc's future spouse? Who is she? Her character, job, look etc. How they going to meet and their first impressions about each other? What charles' friends (especially close ones) and his family (especially his brothers and mother) will think about her? How they will confess their feelings to each other? What are fans and society going to think about their relationship? Will the relationship be successful?

Neymar Jr: will he return to play in Europe? Is he planning on retiring soon? Will he retire soon? How's his current energy?

What's Lando Norris' general personality?

How's sexy time with... Sion (NCT WISH kpop group)?

How's sexy time with... Minho (STRAY KIDS kpop group)?

How's Aurelien Tchouameni as a partner? Current energy for his career? His current general energy?

Aurelien Tchouameni (hello again): did he cheat on his girlfriend? Will he be sold by Real Madrid to another team?

What's Jannik Sinner general personality? What's his relationship dynamic with girlfriend Anna Kalinskaya? Is she a gold digger?

How's carlos alcaraz as a boyfriend and his ideal partner?

Neymar Jr (here we're again): what's his relationship dynamic with Bruna? How does he feel about his daughter, Helena? Will he cheat on Bruna again? (if he isn't already doing that right now, I mean)

How's sexy time with... Jadon Sancho? What's his type?

How's sexy time with... Momo (TWICE kpop group)?

What's Jamal Musiala's type in girls? Who'll likely be his future spouse? Possibly how will they both meet? Timestamp of the meeting? How'll thei relationship be like?

How's sexy time with... Lee Felix (SKZ kpop group)? What about aftercare?

How's sexy time with... Jungkook? (BTS kpop group)

How's Kenan Yildiz as a boyfriend and what's his type?

How's the friendship among Jude, Camavinga, and Tchouaméni?

Max Verstappen: how's his relationship dynamic with his girlfriend, Kelly Piquet? How do they feel for each other? What's the future for their relationship? Do they want to get married and have kids? Did she cheat on him? + How's his relationship with his family? Does he prefer to spend time with his girlfriend's family? Why? Is his family just ''tolerating'' Kelly Piquet because Max is dating her?

Deep Dive into Kylian Mbappé and Emma Smet's relationship (or whatever it was that theu had): was it PR? How did they truly feel about each other? Did Kylian's mother like her? Why did they break up?

How's sexy time with... Intak (P1HARMONY kpop group)?

How's sexy time with...Sunwoo ( THE BOYZ kpop group)? Any specific kink that he has? What about aftercare?

Bad Bunny and Gabriela Berlingeri's relationship: Was it all PR or they started off genuine and had true feelings for each other? What was their relationship dynamic? How they feel about each other at the present? Will they ever come back together?

Does Jude Bellingham have a Madonna-Whore complex?

Toby Bishay: His friendship dynamic with Jude, is he genuinely friends with Jude Bellingham? Is it true Toby and Jude have threesomes, foursomes together?

Cristiano Ronaldo and Georgina Rodriguez: how do they feel about each other? How does Cristiano feel about Georgina posting videos twerking (to what people complian about it) and about her wearing really revealing clothes?

David and Victoria Beckham: Are they still together because they love and genuinely want to be with each other or for othe reasons? How do they feel about Cruz Beckham's girlfriend?

Jude Bellingham and his future wife: how will be their dating phase? (let's see what I can grasp from it)

SKZ (kpop group members): what's their type?, their general personality? (each one of them)

Chateau de Amerois: are the theories all true? Is this place truly evil? What's behind it?

SKZ (kpop group): what's their opinion on long-distance relationships? Would they do it? Have any on them done that already?

Michael Olise (FC Bayern Munich): his general personality + his energy

How's sexy time with... Son Heung-min? And what's his type?

How's sexy time with... J Cole?

How will Jude Bellingham's career evolve in football? Will he shine more in the future?

How's aftercare with the members of ENHYPEN (kpop group)? If they’re the type to talk and cuddle or bring their partner food and stuff

How's sexy time with... Soobin? (TXT kpop group)?

What's Alejandro balde’s type?

Azra Mian and Jude Bellingham: what happened between them? Why and how it ended?

Let's take a look at Jude Bellingham's future wife but at the present moment: Her current energy, who's she right now? How's she doing in her life? Does she know who ''Jude Bellingham'' is?

Does Jack Draper sleep around? Does he hook up with anyone or is he just super focusing on his career? Did he have something with kt lordahl?

Radu Dragusin: he rejected Bayern hoping to get more playing time at Tottenham, but BARELY getting any, was that his real motives? How's he feeling about that now? will he go on loan to Juventus like the media is saying?

Carlos Alcaraz's general personality + his red flags (does he have any? Let's find out!)

Jamal Musiala: his general personality, how's he as a friend (is his group friend lovely or toxic?), how's his love life at the moment, how's sexy time with him? How's he as a boyfriend? (his oficial biography is coming hahaha)

Jobe Bellingham (I heard people saying he's the best looking sibling, I don't know...): Who'll be his next girlfriend? Who'll be his next wife? Does he want to have kids?

Neymar Jr and Kylian Mbappé (help): Did they use to party hard together in Paris with e*corts and everything? Was Kylian's staff leaking news about Neymar's lifestyle to spare Kylian? Was neymar jealous of Kylian for him becoming ''the golden boy''? (the star of the team and not him). Kylian never unfollows his former team mates, why did he unfollow Neymar then? Why's Neymar constantly liking posts who shade Kylian? Was Kylian responsible for Neymar leaving PSG? Did Kylian want to be ''the owner'' of PSG (as a lot of people claim)? How are they feeling about each other at the present?

Jannik Sinner: What's his general personality and his type?

How's sexy time with... Ja Morant? What's his general personality? How's he as a boyfriend? How does he act with his partner in his relationship? What's his type?

How's Jadon Sancho as a boyfriend?

Austin Butler: his general personality, how's he as a boyfriends and how he acts in his relationships? How's sexy time with him? (hm?)

Son Heung-min: why is he hot and cold in his relationships? Has he has his heart broken and that's why he's more closed-off for relationships? Is he emotionally immature? Why he has this ''I will get married until I retire'' mentality?

Skz (kpop group): How each member see public dating, showing off their partners, posting pictures? How each of them feel about that?

Son Heung-min and Minah (from Girl's Day kpop group): How was their relationship dynamic? How did they view each other? Is Son waiting for ''the one'' to appear magically in front of him?

Is San (from Ateez kpop group) closed-off about having a serious relationship right now? Is he waiting for ''the one'' to appear out of nowhere to him? (you know, similar to Son Heung-min?)

How's Bangchan (Skz kpop group) as a husband?

How's sexy time with... Park Gunwook (Zerobaseone kpop group)?

How's sexy time with... Seongmin (One pact kpop group)?

How's after care with Ben Shelton? How his partners feel/felt after having s3x with him? Hm?

Jude Bellingham, Trent AA and Ben Shelton: how are they spending their money? On what they're spending their money on? How they view money/being rich?

Katseye (Pop group): what's their dynamic? How they feel about each other?

Trent AA: his biggest fantasy and bigges turn-on

Jobe Bellingham (hey baby): how's after care with him? Is he an independant person? His red flags, his green flags.

Do the members of SKZ (kpop group) have anything to do with pro*titution, se*ual c*imes? Os something might have had happened in the past?

How's sexy time with... Each member of SKZ (kpop group) and aftercare? - except Lee Felix, 'cause he already has a request about this :)

How's the dynamic between Bangchan and Lee Felix? How they view each other? Do they truly like each other? What they usually do when they're together?

Rudy Pankow and Madison Bailey: did they hook up? Did they have s*x? How they feel about each other now? How did they feel about each other in the past? Why did they fall out?

Stay tuned, folks!!! And keep these requests coming!!!

Thanks <3

[candywife333]

My Little Saesang (Part 1)

chubby reader x idol jungkook

Summary: Y/N had been a super fan for a while. Some would say bordering on saesang or creep level. She didn't think she was one, till she experienced an incident that made her stop being a fan. She had never thought that Jungkook or any of BTS ever noticed her, as she was part of the masses of obsessive fans. But they had. Especially, one doe eyed idol in particular. He never thought he would miss his fan, or shall we say saesang. Yet, he couldn't help but notice her absence. And he didn't know when her presence started to matter to him so much.

Disclaimer: The Jungkook represented in this fic does not reflect the true actions or thoughts of the real life Jungkook. Please treat this fic as exactly what it is, fiction

Triggers: Critique of fandom culture and kpop as a whole, identity crisis, eventual smut

Note: Not proofread. Slated to be approximately 4 parts or less.

"Y/N, what the hell are you still doing in that cafe? Didn't we come over here to spy on Jungkook at his house before he heads off to M-CountDown for his performance? I don't remember scheduling a pit-stop for you to have a second lunch", Kim-Hee glared down at me through her thick framed black glasses that honestly sort of made her look like a sexy principal. Anger at being diverted from her goal of catching the tan pop-star in his sweaty excellence seemed to cloud her vision.

I retorted back with a snort, "You know me very well at this point, after being my fellow saesang comrade in arms for close to 2 years girl. I am digesting my food baby as we speak and will soon be ready for delivery in that nasty garbage ass smelling toilet. I have a date with the shits, so to speak. Don't you see that my jeans are popped open and the zip down ready to go. I don't got the energy to chase this man today. Our stunt at New York was bad enough, don't you think"? Shaking my head at her idiocy even after knowing me for so long, I exclaimed, "Feel free to chase him in time for his ending fairy if you feel like it though. I am just not feeling it today".

Kim Hee, my bestie, stared at me with squinted eyes, black tiny eyes glittering in the harsh sun, "Girl, you were the one who had this all scheduled out a month back? How could you not bloody commit at the crucial time!!!! Our fucking junior fans are counting on your stupid ass". I waved my right at her in dismissal, ramen sauce covering my lips like a new Fenty lipstick that I just could not afford right now with my measly ass job as janitor at KBS.

I snarled back in irritation, "Tell those kids to go and study in college, that's more important than following his dumb ass anyways. He won't remember them for their troubles. At max, he will remember a few fans from their initial debut days , get married to a rich ass plasticky actress, have beautiful spoiled kids, and die a rich philanthropist. Saesangs don't get paid if you catch my point. Honestly, if it paid as a job, I would consider it. But I think I may have to retire". I patted my distended stomach in contentment, satisfied with the first proper meal I had in 3 days, stalking JK with my team all over New York and then catching a flight to Korea for his album showcase.

My bestie stared at me now in shock, with wide eyes, hands waving in the air, clearly confused at my statements, "Didn't you just say a week ago that this was all worth it? That supporting our faves, especially BTS, and the lord and savior himself , Jungkook, was a noble passion to pursue? Why have you suddenly done a 180 on us and him like this"? I flinched visibly at her reminder of what I used to be and who I used to be. The person she described felt foreign to me now. Ever since I opened my eyes and saw what fans, especially super fans like us, who didn't have a life outside of BTS suffered, I was a reformed woman. A reformed woman who had decided as of now to save all my money for some botox and a dental appointment, some clothes for mom and dad, and a hot meal for my younger sister. I was going to go from being a crysallis to a butterfly. In essence, I was going to woman the fuck up. That's what the fuck I was about to do with my life.

With this aim in mind, I slammed my fist against the plastic table, startling Kim Hee. "Bestie, you never got close enough to JK to see how much he hated it, okay? He hated us in those moments that we invaded his privacy. Remember that one time I snuck up on the set of them filming "Black Swan" to give him a godiva chocolate my mom had brought back from Sweden?" Kim Hee nodded in assent, clearly knowing how much of big deal it was for me to part with food of any kind, for any reason, for anyone (Even my own family). I loved luxury chocolate and food in general. Nobody could rip it out of my hands , as evidenced by Kim Hee and all our friends in middle school when I slapped a guy stupid and hit him in the nuts for taking a ferrero rocher out of my hands---the motherfucker.

I continued ,"Well I gave it to his hands while he was waiting outside at the entrance of the set. Even normies like me are allowed on that area, it was not a restricted filming area. I just left the chocolate next to where he was sitting, with a red bow (his name engraved on it) wrapped around it. He legit stared at me in confusion, like he had not seen me for the past 9 years, sneered at me, disdain in his beady black eyes and threw the chocolate in the dustbin like it was as figment of his imagination". Kim Hee stared at me in dismay, clearly knowing that what I considered the foremost cardinal sin in life was throwing away food, particularly expensive food.

I wrung my hands in the air, holding in my tears, "Bestie, it was white chocolate, do you understand? It was limited christmas edition. I could never afford that chocolate in my dreams , if not for one of mom's colleagues gifting it to her. Chili ,(my sister) was yapping about it for days, salivating, thinking she could bite into it. And I sacrificed it to an undeserving multi millionaire". I sat back down on the bench, numbly, tears streaming down my face. I was so done with him and the entire group at this point. I understand that what we do, Saesangs, stalkers, whatever they like to call us, is not correct. We should not be so invasive. But I always told the kids who followed in my footsteps that we could support them, but just not to the point that we impinged on their personal lives. I had done some fucked up things as a newbie army, but two years into their debut, I understood that limits were required.

The most I had ever done since then, was to gift the members things as a fan. Whatever I could afford. Whether that was their favorite convenience store snack left by us on the set of one of their music video shoots. Or a pack of gum or their favorite desserts when we attended fan meets. I and the girls who followed me on these adventures, as I used to call them, never snuck into HYBE. We were of the more benign variety, not on par with the crazies who took the same flight as them (not that I could afford that), or collected saliva, sweat, and urine samples. For goodness sakes, we didn't even run after their vehicles, we just waved politely and jumped up and down like rabid dogs that had treats waved in their faces.

The moment I was compelled to stop following my fave, or I guess my former bias as of now, was simply when he casually looked at the chocolate I had left next to him as though it were poison, and tossed it in the trash without looking back. That was when I knew, I was worthless in his eyes, along with the rest of the fans who tried so hard.

We shelled out money saved up from little jobs and pocket money accumulated for months together, to buy expensive albums, merchandise, and anything else they put out. We forgo the little luxuries like nicer shoes and warmer coats in winter to buy tickets for outdoor showcases and shiver in the cold wind to just catch a glimpse of one of their half smiles. We stream their music that speaks of love that we do not comprehend, love whose face is so unfamiliar in our youth that we would pass it by as though it were a stranger. When we don't have anyone in our lives to hug us and hold us and kiss us, to wipe our tears and pat us on the back when we are down and to tell us that everything will be alright, we stare at them in the tabloids extrapolating who they could be in love with, fantasizing about a love that could never be ours. We live our lives, living for them, living around them as though we are satellites caught int he orbit of a bigger planet, and now, it does not make sense to me anymore.

It may just be a chocolate, stupid worthless and insignificant to him. It may be cheap, a show of cheap love that he wishes to spit on. But it wasn't cheap to me. My love wasn't cheap. Food isn't cheap, especially food bestowed with love. And I was done giving my love away for free, as though it meant nothing. As though it were a cheap cigarette to be smoked and discarded, ground under the foot of someone who had finished using it for a fleeting high. Cheap and dispensable and convenient, that's what we were, what I had become.

I cringed internally as my gaze redirected towards Kim Hee. I croaked out in determination while chewing on the remnants of soggy ramyun, "We are done babe. I am through with this horrible, parasitic relationship. I am going to figure out how to make myself rich or get rich through marriage. I am done being stupid, falling over myself for a guy or a group of guys who don't see or appreciate me. They get rich on my desperation, and I don't wish to give them that power anymore".

[sunshine-zenith]

I have work tomorrow so I don’t have time/energy to bang out a full well thought out analysis, but have this — I was thinking about Raine’s storyline involving them faking mind control only to be mind controlled for real later, and I was also thinking about how when they were a kid, they had to attend events on behalf of their school even though they hated it because they’d lose their scholarship. And I thought to myself “what could this have in common with the rest of their arc?”

Control, power, and calculates trade offs of one for the other

As a teenager, Raine had to make a school they didn’t even like look good, for the sake of their education. The fact that their scholarship relies on them making the school look good and not their academic performance (as made clear with how they lost it after publicly rebelling against a leader figure, even though the leader figure praises them for it) is pretty messed up when you think about it.

On the other hand, they’re clearly passionate about Bard magic, and even though it seems like their peers don’t respect Bards, St. Epiderm is presumably a prestigious school. Having attended it would probably look good on whatever the Demon Realm’s equivalent of a resume is.

As an adult, they spent months faking being under a mind control spell, even though it clearly costs them emotionally — not only do they have to push Eda away, they can’t reach out to Hunter, an obviously mistreated child, because that would blow their cover. Their fellow BATs spend months imprisoned before they can bust them out, too, something that probably caused them no end of guilt. And they had to endure Terra’s condescending attitude throughout it all — she talks to them like they’re still a child, and a child she enjoys manipulating at that.

In return, they remain part of Belos’s inner circle, and they’re able to make plays to take him out from within, all while doing what they can to keep their loved ones safe in the long run.

Now though. Now, they have nothing to sacrifice, no power to gain or lose, no control at all. Before, they were able to make the best of a bad situation and had plans to come out on top. They’ve essentially been treated like a puppet for several parts of their life. And now they are one

[pocketramblr]

For the AU ask game, what about a roleswap between Izuku and All might?

Fun fact: a role swap does not necessarily mean an age swap. It really depends on what roles are being swapped.

1- The Symbol of Peace, Dekiru, has been the Number One Hero for a few decades. Happy, bright, and always moving, his smile is the only part of him not covered by his lucky green rabbit costume. Toshinori was a few years out of college when he was rescued in Dekiru's debut, and sometimes when he's sad or needs motivation, he goes back and watches videos of it. Which is why what he's seeing is impossible:

2- Dekiru's mask torn off, revealing a child's face, still round and freckled even with the pale skin and dark eye bags. Toshinori would think he was just a kid cosplaying the hero, except that kid definitely just saved his life from the villain now knocked against the wall, and even as the kid is passed out on the ground too, a thin layer of smoke is flowing from the neck of his costume, trying to obscure his face, too late. When Toshinori gets closer, black tendrils flip out from his arms and stand threatening over him. Toshinori holds up his hands, "I just need to check your pulse and airway" and he's allowed closer to do that. The kid wakes a few minutes later, and in a crack of green lightning, they're dashed away to the roof of a nearby building, the kid panting. Toshinori asks what's wrong, how can he help?

3- Dekiru sighs, and then tells Toshinori everything. He was created in a lab by a villain trying to get a very specific quirk. He couldn't wait however long it took babies to manifest, and he didn't want to deal with adults, so Dekiru has always been a child. But even then, the villain would not get the quirk he wanted. Dekiru escaped with some help- don't ask- made pro hero, made number one hero, and went and killed that villain a few years ago. However, doing so weakened him- he used to only need one hour of sleep a day to reset and get 23 of quirk usage and crime fighting. Now he only gets two hours of energy from each hour spent asleep, though he really does try to push it. Hence, just passing out now. He's swaying on his feet now, actually. Toshinori offers to carry him to his agency- he could throw his bright yellow suit jacket over the kid and carry him on his back, without the mask no one would realize who he was, just assume he's taking his kid home. Dekiru says it's fine, actually, and flies them both off the roof- only to fall the last few feet. Bright red, he agrees, though he tries to use float to be as light as possible as Toshinori's back. Not that it's needed, the man isn't as fit as he was when he was younger, but he's still plenty tall and strong.

4- except, ah ha, you know how they kinda left the villain from earlier there? Whopsie attack number two a few minutes later, and Toshi just puts Dekiru down behind him and grabs a pipe to fight back with. With the villain defeated, Dekiru looks up at Toshinori, and asks if he wants his quirk. He'd make a great hero, and probably would be able to do more with it than Dekiru can, since he'll only need to rest more and more over time. Toshinori accepts, walks Dekiru back to his agency, and gets a number to talk about it later.

5- later, Toshinori asks what will happen to Dekiru when he gives up his quirk. The kid is evasive, and Toshinori is pretty sure he'll lose his repowering speed even more until it goes away. He asks if Dekiru has ever done anything besides sleep and fight. Dekiru hasn't, and Toshinori ties his acceptance of the quirk to the fact that Dekiru has to gain something too. A normal life, friends, school, something. Toshinori suggests UA- they changed their rule to allow quirkless students, so Dekiru could get his license that way and prepare using support gear, have a second run at a real career and life instead of giving it up all to Toshinori. Dekiru admits that Nedzu was one of his fellow lab rats kept by the villain and would probably be all too excited to approve of this, but don't expect not to end up owing Nedzu a favor after this. So, Toshinori begins training physically again, this time to receive a quirk, and Dekiru begins studying, since he never needed school before and has several years to catch up on if he's going to be ready for high school in a months. Toshinori gains a provisional licence in the winter and can get a full one after a year at an agency, which Nedzu insists be UA. After sending Dekiru off to the entrance exam with a good luck and double checking all his support gear, Toshinori gets invited to watch, and almost has a heart attack when Nedzu stamps "Accepted" on the paperwork as Dekiru dismantles a giant robot, sliding the stack over so that he can see that on the top of the boy's form, his name is listed as "Midorya Izuku" and for emergency contact, "Yagi Toshinori (Uncle, legal guardian)"

[anotherhumaninthisworld]

How close Desmoulins and Fréron were? And what did they think of each other? I'm asking because I discovered they managed a journal together, La Tribune des Patriotes.

The seventeen year old Fréron was enrolled as a paying boarder at the college of Louis-le-Grand on September 30 1771, and just a day later, the eleven year old Camille was as well. I have however not been able to discover any evidence indicating the two were friends back then, or even an instance of one referring to the other as ”college comrade,” something which Camille otherwise is proven to have done with a whole lot of other fellow students. Perhaps this should be read as a sign the two did not know each other back then, six years after all being a rather big age difference for kids. They also don’t exactly appear to have been the same type of student, Desmoulins winning a total of four prizes during his time at the college and Fréron zero, and their teacher abbé Proyart admitting (despite his massive hostility) that student Camille had ”some success,” while Fréron ”showed few talents” and ”was cited as a rare example when speaking of laziness and indolence.” (for more info on the school days of them and other Louis-le-Grand students, see this post).

Fréron graduated from the college in 1779, Camille five years later. I have not been able to find anything suggesting they had anything to do with each other in the 1780s either. But on 23 June 1790, one year into the revolution, we find the following letter from Fréron to Camille, showing that the two by this point have forged a friendship. Judging by the content of the letter, said friendship was probably much grounded in their joint status as freshly baked patriotic journalists (Desmoulins had founded his Révolutions de France et de Brabant in November 1789, Fréron his l’Orateur du Peuple in May 1790):

I beg you (tu), my dear Camille, to insert in your first number the enclosed letter, which has so far only appeared in the journal of M. Gorsas; its publicity is all the more interesting to me as I have just, I am assured, been denounced to the commune as one of the authors of l’Ami du Roi. It is a horror that I must push back with all the energy I can. If you cannot insert it in full, in petit-romain, at the end of your first number, at least make it known by extract; you would be doing me a real service. It’s been a thousand years since I last saw you; I have had a raging fever for more than a fortnight which has prevented me from returning to Rue Saint-André; but I will go there next Saturday. Ch. de La Poype came to your house with a letter from M. Brissot de Warville, but he was unable to enter. It was to talk to you about a matter that you no doubt know about. If patriotic journalists don't line up, then goodbye freedom of the press.  A thousand bonjours, my dear Camille  I am very democratically your friend,  Stanislas Fréron. 

l’Orateur du Peuple has unfortunately not gotten digitalized yet, so we can’t check if Fréron wrote anything about Desmoulins there that could tell us more about their relationship. But in Révolutions de France et de Brabant we find Camille listing Fréron among ”journalists who are friends of truth” (number 37, August 9 1790), calling him a patriot (number 33, July 12 1790), protesting when national guards were sent to seize the journals of Fréron and Tournon (number 63, February 7 1791) and when the numbers of Fréron and Marat got plundered (number 83, July 4 1791), as well as republishing parts of the journal he finds inspiring (number 83, number 85 (July 18 1791). In both number 1 (November 28 1789) and number 65 (February 21 1791) Camille republished a poem he had written in 1783 that mocked Fréron’s father, the famous philosopher Élie Fréron, as well as his maternal uncle Thomas-Marie Royou, him too a member of the counter-enlightenment (and who, as a sidenote, had also been one of their teachers at Louis-le-Grand). Given Fréron’s open hostility towards both his father and uncle, it does however seem unlikely for this to have had any negative effect on their relationship.

Just a few days after the letter from Fréron to Desmoulins had been penned down, we find the two about to enter into partnership. On July 4 1790 the following contract was signed between Camille, Fréron and the printer Laffrey (cited in Camille Desmoulins and his wife: passages from the history of the dantonists (1874) by Jules Claretie), establishing that from number 33 of Révolutions de France et de Brabant and onwards, Fréron will be in charge of half the pages of the journal, while he from number 39 and forward will be in charge of an additional sheet particulary devoted to news:

We, the undersigned, Camille Desmoulins and Stanislas Fréron, the former living on Rue du Théâtre Français, the latter on Rue de la Lune, Porte St. Denys, of the one part; and Jean-Jacques Laffrey, living on Rue du Théâtre Français, of the other part, have agreed to the following: . 1. I, Camille Desmoulins, engage to delegate to Stanislas Fréron the sum of three thousand livres, out of the sum of ten thousand livres, which Jean-Jacques Laffrey has bound himself, by a bond between us, to pay me annually as the price of the editing of my journal, entitled Révolutions de France et de Brabant, of three printed sheets, under the express condition that said Stanislas Fréron shall furnish one sheet and a half to each number, and that during the whole term of my agreement with said Laffrey.  2. I, Stanislas Fréron, engage to furnish for each number of said journal of Révolutions de France et de Brabant, composed of three sheets, one sheet and a half, under the direction of the said Camille Desmoulins, with the understanding that this sheet and a half shall form one half of the three sheets of which each number is composed. I engage to deliver a portion of the copy of this said sheet and a half on the Wednesday of each week , and the rest during the day on Thursday, and this counting inclusively from the thirty-third number until the close of the agreement between Camille Desmoulins and Jean-Lacques Laffrey. 3. I, Jean-Jacques Laffrey, accept the delegation made by Camille Desmoulins of the sum of three thousand livres, payable, in equal payments, at the issue of each number, to Stanislas Fréron, to the clauses and conditions hereinunder; and I engage, besides, to pay to said Stanislas Fréron the sum of one thousand livres, also payable in equal payments, on the publication of each number, which thousand livres shall be over and above the said salary of three thousand livres on condition that the said Stanislas Fréron shall furnish to the journal an additional sheet per week which shall be devoted to news to begin from the thirty-ninth number, which commences the approaching quarter.  And I, Stanislas Fréron, engage to furnish , at the stipulated periods  the said sheet over and above, in consideration of the sum of one thousand livres, in addition to the three thousand livres delegated by Camille Desmoulins. Done, in triplicate, between us, in Paris, July 4, 1790. Stanislas Fréron, Laffrey, C. Desmoulins.

According to Camille et Lucile Desmoulins: un rêve de république (2018) by Hervé Leuwers, nothing did however come about from this contract, Révolutions de France et de Brabant continuing to rest under the authority of Camille only, while Fréron instead kept going with his l’Orateur du Peuple. Why this project never saw the light of day one can only speculate in…

When Camille and Lucile got married in December 1790, Fréron neither signed the wedding contract on the 27th, nor attended the wedding ceremony on the 29th. Following the marriage they did however become neighbors, the couple moving to Rue du Théâtre 1 (today Rue de l’Odeon 28), and into the very same building where Fréron had gone to live a few months earlier.

In number 82 (June 27 1791) of Révolutions de France et de Brabant, Camille writes that he a week earlier, the same night the royal family fled Paris, he left the Jacobins at eleven o’clock in the evening together with ”Danton and other patriots.” The Paris night comes off as so calm Camille can’t stop himself from commenting on it, whereupon ”one of us, who had in his pocket a letter of which I will speak, that warned that the king would take flight this night, wanted to go observe the castle; he saw M. Lafayette enter at eleven o’clock.” According to Hervé Leuwers’ biography, this person was Fréron, though I don’t understand exactly how he can see this…

A little less than a month later, July 17 1791, Fréron and Camille find themselves at Danton’s house together with several other people discussing the lynching of two men at the Champ-de-Mars the same morning. At nine o’clock, Legendre arrives and tells the group that two men had come home to him and said: We are charged with warning you to get out of Paris, bring Danton, Camille and Fréron, let them not be seen in the city all day, it is Alexandre Lameth who engages this. Camille, Danton and Fréron follow this advice and leave, and were therefore most likely absent from the demonstration and shootings on the Champ-de-Mars the very same day (this information was given more than forty years after the fact by Sergent-Marceau, one of the people present, in volume 5 of the journal Revue rétrospective, ou Bibliothèque historique : contenant des mémoires et documens authentiques, inédits et originaux, pour servir à l'histoire proprement dite, à la biographie, à l'histoire de la littérature et des arts (1834)).

In the aftermath of the massacre on Champ de Mars, arrest warrants were issued against those deemed guilty for them. On July 22, the Moniteur reports that the journalists Suleau and Verrières have been arrested, and that the authorities have also fruitlessly gone looking for Fréron, Legendre, Desmoulins and Danton, the latter three having already left Paris. Both Fréron and Camille hid out at Lucile’s parents’ country house in Bourg-la-Reine, as revealed by Camille in number 6 (January 30 1794) of the Vieux Cordelier. The two could resurface in Paris again by September.

On April 20 1792, the same day France declared war on Austria, Camille and Fréron again put their hopes to the idea of a partnership from two years earlier. That day, the two, along with booksellers Patris and Momoro, signed a contract for a new journal, La Tribune des Patriotes, whose first number appeared on May 7 (they had tried to get Marat to join in on the project as well, but he had said no). In the contract, Fréron undertook to each week bring 2/3 of the sheets, Camille the rest. According to Leuwers, Camille did nevertheless end up writing most of it anyway. The journal did however fail to catch an audience and ran for only four numbers.

On June 23 1792 Lucile starts keeping a diary. It doesn’t take more than a day before the first mention of Fréron, in the diary most often known as just ”F,” appears — ”June 24 - F(réron) is scary. Poor simpleton, you have so little to think about. I’m going to write to Maman.” One month and one day later Camille tells Lucile, who is currently resting up at Bourg-la-Reine after giving birth, that ”I was brought to Chaville this morning by Panis, together with Danton, Fréron, Brune, at Santerre’s” (letter cited in Camille et Lucile Desmoulins: un rêve de république). Lucile returned to Paris on August 8. In a diary entry written by her four months later it is revealed that both Fréron and the couple were at Danton’s house on the eve of the insurrection of August 10 — ”F(réron) looked like he was determined to perish. "I'm weary of life," he said, "I just want to die." Every patriot that came I thought I was seeing for the last time.” She doesn’t however, and can in the same entry instead report the following regarding the period that immediately followed the successful insurrection:

After eight days (August 20) D(anton) went to stay at the Chabcellerie, madame R(obert) and I went there in our turn. I really liked it there, but only one thing bothered me, it was Fréron. Every day I saw new progress and didn't know what to do about it. I consulted Maman, she approved of my plan to banter and joke about it, and that was the wisest course. Because what else to do? Forbid him to come? He and C(amille) dealt with each other everyday, we would meet. To tell him to be more circumspect was to confess that I knew everything and that I did not disapprove of him; an explanation would have been needed. I therefore thought myself very prudent to receive him with friendship and reserve as usual, and I see now that I have done well. Soon he left to go on a mission. (to Metz, he was given this mission on August 29 1792) I was very happy with it, I thought it would change him. […] F(réron) returned, he seems to be still the same but I don't care! Let him go crazy if he wants!…My poor C(amille), go, don’t be afraid… 

Following Fréron’s return from his mission, he hung out with the couple quite frequently. On January 7 1793 we find the following letter from him to Lucile:

I beg Madame Desmoulins to be pleased to accept the homage of my respect. I have the honour to inform her that my destination is changed, that I shall not go to the National Assembly because I am setting out for the countryside with MM Danton and Saturne (Duplain). Will she have the goodness to present herself at the assembly, before ten o’clock, in the hall of deputations; she is to send for M. La Source, the secretary, who will come to her, and she will find a place for her by means of the commissary of the tribunes. I renew the assurence of my respectful devotion to Madame Desmoulins.  Stanislas Fréron. Kindest regards to Camille.

Two weeks later, January 20, Lucile writes ”F(réron), La P(oype) came in the evening.” The day after that Fréron writes her the following note: ”I beg the chaste Diana to accept the homage of a quarter of a deer killed in her domains. Adieu. Stanislas Lapin.” This is the first known apperance of Fréron’s nickname within the inner circle — Lapin (Bunny). In Correspondance inédite de Camille Desmoulins(1834), Marcellin Matton, friend of Lucile’s mother and sister, writes that it was Lucile who had come up with this nickname, and that it stemmed from the fact Fréron often visited the country house of Lucile’s parents at Bourg-la-Reine and played with the bunnies they had there each time. In her diary entry from the same day, Lucile has written: ”F(réron) sent us venison.” The very next day she writes the following, showing that Fréron, as she already put it in December, ”appears to still be the same”:

Ricord came to see me. He is always the same, very brusque and coarse, truly mad, giddy, insane. I went to Robert’s. Danton came there. His jokes are as boorish as he is. Despite this, he is a good devil. Madame Ro(bert) seemed jealous of how he teased me… F(réron) came. That one always seems to sigh, but his manners are bearish! Poor devil, what hope do you hold? Extinguish a senseless r [sic] in your heart! What can I do for you? I feel sorry for you... No, no, my friend, my dear C(amille), this friendship, this love so pure, will never exist for anyone other than you! And those I see will only be dear to me through the friendship they have for you. 

One day later, January 23, Lucile writes: ”F(réron), La P(oype), Po, R(obert) and others came to dinner. The dinner was quite happy and cheerful. Afterwards they went to the Jacobins, Maman and I stayed by the fire.” The day after that she has written the following, and while it’s far from confirmed Fréron is the one she’s alluding to here, it would fit rather well with the previous entries:

What does this statement mean? Why do I need to be praised so much? What do I care if I please? Do you think I’ll be proud of a few attractions? No, no, I know how to appreciate myself, and will never be dazed by praise. To you, you’re crazy, and I’ll make you feel like you need to be smarter.

Lucile’s diary entries abruptly end on February 13 1793, and a month later, March 9, Fréron was tasked with going on yet another mission by the Committee of Public Safety. This time, it would be a whole year before he was back in Paris again. It is probably during this period the following two undated letters from Fréron’s little sister Jeanne-Thérèse, wife of the military leader Jean François La Poype, were penned down and sent off to Lucile (both cited within Camille Desmoulins and his wife… (1874) by Jules Claretie. I also found a mention of a third, unpublished letter with the same sender and receiver):

Coubertin, this Monday morning.  How good you are, my dear Lucile, to take such pains to answer so punctually, and to relieve my anxiety! I rely upon your kindness to let me know any good news when you know it yourself. Neither my husband nor my brother has written to me; but, according to what you tell me, M. De la Poype will be with you immediately. Scold him well, I beg, my dear Lucile, and beat him even, if you think it necessary; I give him over to you. Goodbye, dear aunt; I embrace you with all my heart. Do tell me about your pretty boy; is he well? We shall, I hope, see him at some time together. Be the first to tell me of my husband's arrival ; it will be so sweet to owe my happiness to you! Fanny is perfectly well. I received most tenderly the kiss she gave me from you. My compliments to your husband.  Fréron de la Poype. 

Here I come again, beautiful and kind Lucile, to plague you with my complaints, and the frightful uneasiness by which I am tormented. The letter your husband had the kindness to write to me does not allay my grief; he tells me that my brother has given him news of my husband, but he had not heard from him before his departure. He has not been absent long enough to have had time to give us news of himself since he set out. I do not hide from you, dear Lucile, state; for pity's sake, try to restore composure to my heart; let me owe tranquillity to you. They say the enemy is within forty leagues of Paris; if this is so, the country will not be safe. Will you promise to warn me of danger, and to receive me into your house? I count upon the friendship you have always been willing to show me, and I shall throw myself into your arms with the greatest confidence. I beg you to give my compliments to your dear husband.  Fréron de La Poype.  Coubertin, near Chevreuse.  The 5th.  Madame Desmoulins. 

On October 18 1793, Fréron too picks up his pen again and writes the following two letters, one to Camille and one to Lucile. He is at the time in Marseille preparing for the siege of Toulon, a subject which he spends the majority of the ink on discussing, but also blends this with nostalgic remarks. Fréron addresses Camille with tutoiement, but Lucile with vouvoiement. The parts in italics got censored when the letters for the first time got published in Correspondance de Camille Desmoulins(1834):

Marseille, October 18 1793, year 2 of the republic one and indivisible Bonjour, Camille, Ricord will tell you about a lot of things. Our business in front of Toulon is going badly. We have lost precious time and if Carteaux had left La Poype to his own devices, the latter would have been master of the place more than fifteen days ago, but instead, we have to hold a regular siege and our enemies grow stronger every day by the way of the sea. It is time for the Committee of Public Safety to know the truth. I am going to write to Robespierre to inform him about everything. You may not know everything that has happened to me; I have upheld my reputation as an old Cordelier, for I am like you from the first batch; and although very lazy by nature (I say my fault), I found in the great crises a greater activity than I would have believed. But it was a question of saving the south and the army of Italy; because I am not talking about my skin; for a long time [unreadable word for me] have been an object of [unreadable word] for the counter-revolutionaries without [unreadable word]. I will prevent Toulon from forming its sections and consequently from opening its port to the English and from dragging us, at the onset of winter, into the lengths of a murderous siege. La Poype commands a division of the army in front of Toulon; you have no idea how Carteaux makes him swallow snakes: he had seized the heights of Faron, a mountain which dominates a very important fort from which one can strike down and reduce Toulon. Well! Carteaux left him at this post without reinforcement, and he was obliged to evacuate it. Carteaux would rather have the capture of Toulon delayed and missed twenty times than allow another to have the glory. Speak, thunder, burst. La Poype did not contradict himself for a single moment; you know him, he has not changed. I am perhaps a little suspicious: that is why I abstain from writing on his account; but ask all those who come from here and they will tell you what the patriots think. Did you learn from Father Huguenin that I had printed in Monaco six thousand copies of your Histoire des Brissotins which I distributed profusely in Nice and in the department of Var? You did not think you would receive the honors of printing in Italy. You see it's good to have friends everywhere. I have been very worried about Danton. The papers announced that he was ill. Let me know if he’s recovered. Tell him and give him a thousand regards from me. I look forward to seeing you again, but this after the capture of Toulon; I dream only of Toulon; it’s my nec plus ultra. I will either perish or see its ruins. Is Patagon (Brune) in Paris? Remind me of him. Farewell, my dear Camille, tell me the story of Duplain Lunettes. Is it true that he is in prison? Attacking Chaplain! ah! he is such a good man! Tell me the reasons for his detention. Has he really changed? This is inconceivable. We are doing a lot of work here; we are impatiently awaiting the troops which were in front of Lyon and the siege artillery which we lack; without that the only thing we would make in Toulon would be clear water.  Answer me in grace; Ricord will give you my address.  I embrace you.  Fréron.  PS. You have known for a long time that I love your wife madly; I write to her about it, it is indeed the least consolation that can be obtained for an unhappy bunny, absent since eight months. As there is a fairly detailed article on La Poype, I invite you to read it. Adieu, both of you, think sometimes of the best of your friends; answer me as well as Rouleau (Lucile). 

Marseille, October 18 1793, year 2 of the republic one and indivisible How lucky Ricord is! So he is going to see you again, Lucile, and I, for a century, have been in exile. Communications between the southern departments with Paris have been closed for more than three months. Ever since they’ve been restored, I have wanted to write to you. A hundred times I have picked up the pen, and a hundred times it has fallen from my hand. He is leaving, this fortunate mortal, and I finally venture to give him this letter for you, the content of which he is unaware about. May it convince you, Lucile, that you have always been in my thoughts! Let Camille murmur about it, let him say all he wants about it, in that he will only act like all proprietor; but certainly he cannot do you the insult of thinking that he is the only one in the world who finds you lovable and has the right to tell you so. He knows it, that wretch of Bouli-Boula, because said in your presence: "I love Bunny because he loves Rouleau." 

This poor bunny has had a great deal of adventures; he has traversed furious burrows and he has stored up ample stories for his old age. He has often missed the wild thyme which your pretty hands in small strokes enjoyed feeding him in your garden in Bourg de l’Egalité. Besides, he was not below his mission, exposing his life several times to save the republic. In seeking the glory of a good deed, do you know what sustained him, what he always had before his eyes? First, the homeland, then, you. He only wanted and he only wants to be worthy of the both of you. You will find this romantic bunny and he is not bad at it. He remembers your idylls, your willows, your shrines and your bursts of laughter. He sees you trotting around your room, running over the floor, sitting down for a minute at your piano, spending whole hours in your armchair, dreaming, letting your imagination travel; then he sees you making coffee at the roadside, scrambling like an elf and cussing like a cat, showing your teeth. He enters your bedroom; he stealthily casts a longing eye on a certain blue bed, he watches you, he listens to you, and he keeps quiet. Isn’t that you! Isn’t that me! When will these happy moments return? I don’t know, I am now pressing the execrable Toulon, I am determined to either perish on its ramparts or to scale them, flame in hand. Death will be sweet and glorious to me as long as you reserve a tear for me.

My heart is torn, my mind devoted to a thousand cares, My sister and my niece, little Fanny, are locked up in Toulon in the hospital like unfortunates; I can't give them any relief and they may lack everything. La Poype, who adores her, but still more his homeland, besieges and presses this infamous city; he cannons and bombards it without reserve, and, as the price of such admirable devotion, he is calumniated, he is hampered, his efforts are paralyzed, he is left devoid of arms, cartridges, and artillery; they water him with bitterness, they cast doubts on his civism; and while Carteaux, to whom Albitte has made a colossal reputation, but who is in a condition to take Toulon no more than I am the moon, seeks, through the lowest jealousy, to lose him in the mind of the soldier, sometimes by passing him off as a counter-revolutionary, sometimes by spreading the rumor that he has emigrated and fled to Toulon. He alone attempts daring blows, and having made himself master of a fort which dominates Toulon, he would have taken that town in a week, if Carteaux had sent him the reinforcements he in vain asked for. One thing that must not be forgotten is that in the army of Italy, the traitor Brunet, the federalist Brunet, made La Poype pass for a Maratist and an outraged montagnard. Why? Because the staff of which he was the chief, had been composed by him only of Marseillois from the 10th of August and of Cordeliers. This is the truth. Make it known to your husband. Prevent from being oppressed the most patriotic general officer perhaps of all the armies, who has never contradicted himself; who has sacrificed his wife and child to the homeland; who began by besieging the Bastille with Barras and me; who since has not varied; who has worked for a long time with l’Orateur du Peuple; who was decreed in the affair of the Champ-de-Mars, etc, etc. I leave it to your so persuasive mouth to assert these titles.

I embrace you, divine Rouleau, dearer than all the rouleaux of gold and crowns that could be offered to me. I embrace you in hope, and I will date my happiness only from the day when I shall see you again. Remind me of your dear maman and of citizen Duplessis. Will you answer me? "Oh! no, Stanislas!”  Please answer me, if only because of La Poype. Show my letter to Camille, for I do not wish to make a mystery of anything. 

Lucile wrote a response to Fréron that has since gone missing, but it was clearly satisfying for him judging by his next letter, dated December 11 (incorrectly September 11 in the published correspondance) 1793 and addressed to Lucile:

No, my answer will not be delayed by eight months as you put it; the day before yesterday I received, read, reread and devoured your letter; and the pen does not fall from my hands when it comes to acknowledge receipt. What pleasure it gave me !... Pleasure all the more vivid than I dared to hope! You think, then, of that poor bunny, who, exiled far from your heaths, your cabbage, your wild thyme and the paternal dwelling, is consumed with grief at seeing the most constant efforts for the glory and the strengthening of the republic lost... They denounce me, they calumniate me, when all of the South proclaims that without our measures, as active as they are wise and energetic, all this country would be lost and given over to Lyon, Bordeaux and the Vendée. I did not deign to answer Hébert (Fréron (and La Poype) had been denounced at the Jacobins on November 8 by Hébert, who said he ”was nothing more than an aristocrat, a muscadin”). I thank your wolf for having defended me, but he, in his turn, is denounced. They want to take us one after the other, saving Robespierre for last. I invite your wolf to see Raphaël Leroy, commissioner of war for the Army of Italy, who saw me in the most stormy circumstances and the most critical situation in which a representative of the people has ever been. He will say if I am a muscadin, a dictator and an aristocrat. This Leroy is one of the first Cordeliers. Camille knows him; no one is in a better position to make the truth about La Poype and me triumph.

I dare say that never has a republican behaved with more self-sacrifice than your bunny. The fact that La Poype is my brother-in-law was enough for me to make it a rule to keep him away from all command-in-chief, albeit his rank and his seniority, but even more his foolproof patriotism called him there. From then on I foresaw everything that malevolence would not fail to spread. I’d rather be unjust towards La Poype, and make obvious privileges, than I’d give arms to slander, and make people suspect even that the most vicious motives of ambition or of particular interest were involved in my conduct for some reason. When Brunet was dismissed, what better opportunity to advance La Poype? He came to command naturally and by rank. He was the oldest officer-general of the army of Italy. Well! I dismissed him and we named the oldest member of the same army, a man who had only been a general of division for a fortnight, and yet La Poype wanted to sacrifice his wife and his child, saving the national representation, with the certainty that both were going to be delivered to the Toulonnais, which did indeed happen. And these are the men that the most execrable system of defamation pursues! Vulgar souls, muddy souls, you have lent us your baseness; you could not believe, still less reach the height of our sentiments; but the truth will destroy your infernal machinations; we will do our duty through all obstacles and disgusts; we will continue to be useful to the republic, to devote ourselves to its salvation; we will sacrifice our wives and our sisters to it; we will make to our fellow citizens the faithful presentation of our actions, our labors and our most secret thoughts, and we will say to our denouncers: have you produced more titles than us to the public esteem?

Dear Lucile, tell your wolf a thousand things from me; make sure he puts forward these reasons based on notorious facts. Pay him my compliment on his proud reply to Barnave; it is worthy of Brutus, our eternal model; I am like you; a gloomy uneasiness agitates me; I see a vast conspiracy about to break out within the republic; I see discord shake its torches among the patriots; I see ambitious people who want to seize the government, and who, to achieve this, do everything in the world to blacken and dismiss the purest men, men of means and character. I am proof of that. Robespierre is my compass; I perceive, in all the speeches he holds at the Jacobins, the truth of what I am saying here. I don't know if Camille thinks like me; but it seems to me that one wants to push the popular societies beyond their goal, and make them carry out, without them suspecting it, counter-revolution, by ultra-revolutionary measures. What has just happened in Marseille is proof of this. The municipals who had dared to give the order to two battalions of sans-culottes whom we had required to march on Toulon, not to obey the representatives of the people, and who, for this audacious and criminal act, were dismissed by us, were embraced and applauded in the popular society of Marseilles, as the victims of patriotism. Fortunately we have stifled any counter-revolutionary movement; the largest and most imposing measures were taken on the spot. Many intriguers who only saw in the revolution a means of making a fortune, or of satisfying revenge or particular hatreds, dominated and led society astray, all the more easily because they are interesting in the eyes of the people through the persecutions of the sections and a few months in prison. Do you believe that there were secret committees where the motion was made to arrest the representatives of the people? Within twenty-four hours, we have mixed up all these plots: Marseille is saved. It must be observed that this new conspiracy broke out the very day when the English pushed three columns upon our army before Toulon, and seized the battery of the convention, from which they were repulsed with a terrible loss on their side.

It is not useless to notice again that the aristocrats, the emissaries of Pitt, the false patriots, the patriots of money who see their small hopes destroyed by these acts of vigor, repeat with affectation what has been said about me by Hébert at the rostrum of the Jacobins. But the vast majority of true republicans do me justice. This is the harm produced by vague denunciations, made by a patriot against patriots. I see it well; Pitt and the people of Toulon, who doubt our energy because they have tested it on more than one occasion, want, by all possible means, to keep us away from the siege of Toulon, because it is known that we are going to strike the great blows. Well! let us be reminded; we are ready. The national representation did not cross our heads like so many others. Don't come here, lovable and dear Lucile, it's a terrible country, whatever people say, a barbaric country, when you've lived in Paris. I have no caves (cavernes) to offer you, but many cypresses. They grow here naturally. Tell your glutton of a husband that the snipes and thrushes here are better than the inhabitants. If it weren't so far from here in Paris, I would send him some, but you will receive some olives and oil. Farewell, dear Lucile, I am leaving immediately for the army. The general attack is about to begin; it will have taken place when you receive this letter. We are counting on great successes and to force all the posts and redoubts of the enemy with the bayonets. My sister is still locked up in Toulon. This consideration will not stop us: if she perishes, we will give tears to her ashes; but we will have returned Toulon to the republic. I thank you for your charming memory; La Poype, whom I do not see, because he is in his division, will be very sensitive to it. Farewell once again, madwoman, a hundred times mad, darling rouleau, bouli-boula of my heart; this is a very long letter; but I gave myself up to the pleasure of chatting with you, and I took the night for it. Tell loup-loup to write to me; he's a sloth. With regard to your reply to this one, it will probably take a year to arrive. What does it matter to me! On the contrary. It's clear as day. I remember those unintelligible sentences; I remember that piano, those melodies, that melancholy tone, abruptly interrupted by great bursts of laughter. Indefinable being!... Farewell.  I embrace the whole warren and you, Lucile, with tenderness and with all my soul.  Stanislas. 

PS - Don't forget me to the baby bunny (Horace) and his pretty grandmother Melpomène. I would also like to hear from Patagon (Brune), Saturn (Duplain) and Marius (Danton). The latter must have received a letter from me. I will write to him again. Make sure Camille communicates  the parts of this letter regarding La Poype, and that his eloquent voice pleads the cause of a friend always worthy of him, always worthy of the Cordeliers. Remind us of his memory, for we love him and are attached to him for life. Consternation is in Toulon. We have killed the English, at the last incident, all their grenadiers. The Spaniards are assassinating them with their stilettos. They have already stabbed thirty of them. It’s now or never to attack. So I am leaving; the cannonade will begin as soon as we will have arrived. We are going to win laurels or willows. Prepare, Lucile, what it is you intend for me. 

In the fifth number of the Vieux Cordelier, released January 5 1794, Camille did like Fréron had asked and defended both him and la Poype, clearly using Fréron’s letter as a source:

Note here that four weeks ago, Hebert presented to the Jacobins a soldier who came to heap pretentious praise on Carteaux and to discredit our two Cordeliers Fréron and La Poype who nevertheless had come close to taking Toulon in spite of envy and slander; because Hebert called Freron, just as he called me, a ci-devant patriot, a muscadin, a Sardanapalus, a viédasse. Take note citizens that Hebert has continued to insult Fréron and Barras for two months, to demand their recall to the Committee of Public Safety and to commend Carteaux, without whom General La Poype would perhaps have retaken Toulon six weeks ago, when he had already seized Fort Pharon. Take note that when Hébert saw that he could not influence Robespierre on the subject of Fréron because Robespierre knows the Old Cordeliers, because he knows Freron just as he knows me; note that it was then that this forged letter signed by Fréron and Barras arrived at the Committee for Public Safety, from where no one knows; this letter which so strongly resembled one which managed to arrive two days ago at the Quinze Vingts, which made out that d’Eglantine, Bourdon de l’Oise, Philippeaux and myself wanted to whip up the sections. Oh! My dear Fréron, it is by these crude artifices that the patriots of August 10 are undermining the pillars of the old district of the Cordeliers. You wrote ten days ago to my wife ”I only dream of Toulon, I will either perish there or return it to the republic, I’m leaving. The cannonade will begin as soon as I arrive; we are going to win a laurel or a willow: prepare one or the other for me.” Oh! My brave Fréron, we both wept with joy when we learned this morning of the victory of the republic, and that it was with laurels that we would go to meet you, and not with willows to meet your ash. It was in the assault with Salicetti and the worthy brother of Robespierre, that you responded to the calumnies of Hébert. Things are therefore the same both in Paris and Marseille! I will quote your words, because those of a conqueror will carry more weight than mine. You write to us in this same letter: I don't know if Camille thinks like me; but it seems to me that one wants to push the popular societies beyond their goal, and make them carry out, without them suspecting it, counter-revolution, by ultra-revolutionary measures. What has just happened in Marseille is proof of this. Oh well! My poor Martin (this could be a reference to the the drawing ”Martin Fréron mobbed by Voltaire” which depicts Fréron’s father Élie Fréron as a donkey called ”Martin F.”), were you therefore pursued by the Père Duchesnes of both Paris and Bouches-du-Rhône? And without knowing it, by that instinct which never misleads true republicans, two hundred leagues apart, I with my writing desk, you with your sonorous voice, we are waging war against the same enemies! But it is necessary to break with you this colloquium, and return to my justification. 

The very same day, Fréron wrote a third letter to Lucile. Again, the parts in italics were censored when the letter was first published in 1836:

You did not answer me, dearest Lucile, and my punctuality has so dumbfounded you that your astonishment still lasts. You had deferred my answer to eight months; you see if you are a good prophetess. I inform you with a sensitive pleasure (which you will share, I am sure) that my sister and my niece did not perish; that they found a way to wear themselves out in the dreadful night which preceded the surrender of Toulon. She is about to give birth. I informed her of the interest you took in her sad fate; she was very sensitive and asks me to show you her gratitude.  Answer me then, lazy that you are, and ungrateful, which is worse. One breaks the silence after a year, after centuries, and one gets, as thank you, a few words written in distraction, Bouli-Boula, what does it do to me? The bunny is desolute; he thinks of you constantly; he thought about you amid bombs and bullets, and he would have gladly said like that old gallant: Ah! if my lady saw me!  I realize with sorrow that you are upset, since Camille has been denounced by the same men who have pursued me at the Jacobins. I hope he will triumph over these attacks; I recognized his original touch in a few passages from his new journal; and I too am one of the old Cordeliers. Farewell, Lucile, wicked devil, enemy of bunnies. Has your wild thyme been harvested? I shall not delay, despite all my insults, to implore the favor of nibbling some from your hand. I asked for a month's leave to recover a bit; for I am exhausted with fatigue; afterwards I fly back into the bosom of the Convention, and I stealthily amaze myself on the grass with Martin on the paths of Bourg d’Égalité, under the eyes of la grande lapin? and in spite of your pots of water.  You'll have neither olives nor oil if I don't get a response from you. You can tell me whatever you like but I love you and embrace you, right under the nose of your jealous loup-loup. Goodbye once more.  Do not forget me to our shared friends. What has become of citoyenne Robert? A thousand things to your old loup-loup; I wanted to write to him, but time is short and the mail rushes me. Tell him to keep his imagination in check a little with respect to a committee of clemency. It would be a triumph for the counter-revolutionaries. Let not his philanthropy blind him; but let him make an all-out war on all industrial patriots.  Goodbye again, loveliest of rouleux. My respects to your good and beautiful maman. Give my regards to the baby bunny (Horace).  The letter reached Lucile within a week, but it’s with a tone less playful than Fréron’s that she answered it with on January 13 (cited in Camille Desmoulins and his wife (1874) by Jules Claretie):

Come back, Fréron, come back quickly. You have no time to lose; bring with you all the old Cordeliers you can meet up with; we have the greatest need of them. If it had pleased Heaven not to have ever dispersed them! You cannot have an idea of what is going on here! You are ignorant of everything, you only see a feeble glimmering in the distance, which can give you but a faint idea of our situation. Indeed, I am not surprised that you reproach Camille for his Committee of Clemency. He cannot be judged from Toulon. You are happy where you are; all has gone according to the wish of your heart; but we, calumniated, persecuted by the ignorant, the intriguing, and even by patriots; Robespière (sic) your compass, has denounced Camille at the Jacobins; he has had numbers 3 and 4 read, and has demanded that they should be burnt; he who had read them in manuscript. Can you conceive such a thing? For two consecutive sittings he has thundered, or rather shrieked, against Camille. At the third sitting Camille's name was struck off. Oddly enough, he made inconceivable efforts to have the cancelling reported; it was reported; but he saw that when he did not think or act according to their the will of a certain number of individuals, he was not all powerful. Marius (Danton) is not listened to any more, he is losing courage and vigour. D'Eglantine is arrested, and in the Luxembourg, under very grave charges. So he was not a patriot! he who had been one until now! A patriot the less is a misfortune the more.  The monsters have dared to reproach Camille with having married a rich woman. Ah! let them never speak of me; let them ignore my existence, let me live in the midst of a desert. I ask nothing from them, I will give up to them all I possess, provided I do not breathe the same air as they! Could I but forget them, and all the evils they cause us! I see nothing but misfortune around me. I confess, I am too weak to bear so sad a sight. Life has become a heavy burden. I cannot even think - thinking, once such a pure and sweet pleasure alas! I am deprived of it… My eyes fill with tears… I shut up this terrible sorrow in my heart; I meet Camille with a serene look, I affect courage that he may not lose his keep up his. You do not seem to me to have read his five numbers. Yet you are a subscriber. Yes, the wild thyme is gathered, quite ready. I plucked it amid many cares. I laugh no more; I never act the cat; I never play my piano; I dream no more, I am nothing but a machine now. I see no one, I never go out. It is a long time since I have seen the Roberts. They have gotten into difficulties through their own fault. They are trying to be forgotten.  Farewell, bunny, you will call me mad again. I am not, however, quite yet; I have still enough reason left to suffer. I cannot express to you my joy on learning that your dear sister had met with no accident; I have been quite uneasy since I heard Toulon was taken. I wondered incessantly what would be their fate. Speak to them sometimes of me. Embrace them both for me. I beg them to do the same to you, for me.  Do you hear! my wolf cries out: Martin, my dear Martin, here, thou art come that I may embrace thee; come back very soon. Come back, come back very soon; we are awaiting you impatiently. 

In number 6 of the Vieux Cordelier, released January 30 1794, Camille responds to Fréron’s critique regarding a committee of clemency while informing him that his father-in-law has gotten arrested: 

Beware, Fréron, that I was not writing my number 4 in Toulon, but here, where I assure you that everyone is in order, and where there is no need for the spur of Père Duchesne, but rather of the Vieux Cordelier's bridle; and I will prove it to you without leaving my house and by a domestic example. You know my father-in-law, Citizen Duplessis, a good commoner and son of a peasant, blacksmith of the village. Well! The day before yesterday, two commissioners from Mutius Scaevola's section (Vincent's section, that will tell you everything) came up to his house; they find law books in the library; and notwithstanding the decree that no one will touch Domat, nor Charles Dumoulin, although they deal with feudal matters, they raid half the library, and charge two pickers with the paternal books. […] An old clerk's wallet, which had been discarded, forgotten above a cupboard in a heap of dust, and which he had not touched or even thought about for perhaps ten years, and on which they managed discovered the imprint of a few fleur-de-lis, under two fingers of filth, completed the proof that citizen Duplessis was suspect, and thus he was locked up until the peace, and seals put on all the gates of this countryhouse where you remember, my dear Fréron, that we both found an asylum which the tyrant dared not violate after we were both ordered to be seized after the massacre of the Champ-de-Mars. 

Fréron was back in Paris by at least March 14, less than a month before the arrest and execution of Camille and Lucile. He is not confirmed to have tried to do anything to save his friends. Following their death, he does however appear to have laid low. He is not proven to have spoken at the Jacobins following March 26, and so far I haven’t found any recorded apperances at the Convention either. I don’t think it would be completely out of the blue to speculate in whether his choice to play an active role in the fall of Robespierre (he was one of nine deputies designated in the thermidorian pamphlet Conjuration formée dès le 5 préréal [sic] par neuf représentans du peuple contre Maximilien Robespierre, pour le poignarder en plein sénat (1794) to on May 24 1794 have formed a plan to stab him to death, and also spoke against the robespierrists during the session of 9 thermidor) to some extent was motivated by the urge to avenge his dead friends, especially since I can’t find any instance of Robespierre openly denouncing Fréron or anything to that effect.

When Fréron shortly after thermidor revived his journal l’Orateur du Peuple, he used it to rehabilitate Camille’s memory, but also used said memory as a weapon against the Jacobins. These are all mentions made of Camille and Lucile in the part of the journal currently digitalized:

[The Jacobin Club] threw from its bosom and sent to the scaffold the unfortunate Camille Desmoulins, who was guilty of no other crime than of having wanted to uncloak and put an end to those of this detestable faction.  Number 7 of l’Orateur du Peuple (September 26 1794).

Camille Desmoulins to the Jacobins of Paris: Citizens, I come to open your eyes to the abyss that is growing under your feet. I have just lifted you from the lethargic sleep into which it seems that a genius enemy of our joy and your safety had plunged you. Frenchmen, wake up! Never have the scroundels that do not show themselves, but who make their numerous beutenans act, according to the expression of Legendre, been more, in labor of the counter-revolution. They feel themselves lost, carried away, like in spite of themselves and tears; so to speak, in the tumbril of public opinion. [”Camille” then goes on to conduct Fréron’s politics for approximately seven pages, most of the entire number.] As it’s Robespierre who signed my passport for the other side, and who had the attention to send my wife there too eight days later, it’s him I must thank him for the good that I have now. […]  Number 9 of l’Orateur du Peuple (September 28 1794)

Have they (the Jacobins) overlooked and denounced the abhorrent tribunal of Robespierre and his co-dictators? No, they’ve even sent innocents there, such as Phelippeux [sic], Camille Desmoulins and many others.  Number 28 of l’Orateur du Peuple (October 19 1794)

In Réponse de Fréron, représentant du peuple, aux diffamations de Moyse Bayle (1795), we also find the following passage:

You (Bayle) who plunged the dagger (for your pen was the knife of our colleagues) into the bosom of Camille and Phelippeaux [sic]: your features cannot freighten me; I am stronger than your insults. […] A constant truth today, in Toulon, is that at most there were a hundred and fifty rebels immolated in the national revenge. In this regard, I appeal to my colleagues Barras, Ricord, Crevés, Rovére and all the inhabitants of the Medi: if I had only told Moyle Bayle this small number, we would have been recalled and guillotined as moderates and as being necessarily the same as this poor Camille, of the indulgent faction. 

And in Mémoire historique sur la réaction royale et sur les massacres du Midi (1824, published posthumously?) he writes:

During a dinner at citizen Formalguès’ where I found myself together with Legendre, Tallien, Barras and other deputies, the conversation fell on Camille Desmoulins, this child so naive and spiritual, murdered for having proposed a committee of clemency. I tell Lanjuinais, whom Camille had pleasantly called le pape of the Vendée, and who was sitting in front of me: ”But, Lanjuinais, if the poor Camille had lived, would you have him guillotined?”  ”Unquestionably,” responded the jansenist.  As I was very glad that other witnesses heard, from Lanjuinais' own mouth, this sweet monosyllable, in which his beautiful soul was depicted, I turned a deaf ear and began my sentence again. "Without difficulty, there is no question," resumed the holy man in an impatient tone; and thereupon one rose from the table, he made the sign of the cross, joined his hands, and said his graces. 

Furthermore, Fréron stayed in touch with Lucile’s mother Annette Duplessis, helping her get back the objects confiscated by the state after Camille and Lucile’s execution, obtaining the pension their son Horace in 1796 had been promised by the Council of Five Hundred, and making sure Horace got a good education at the Prytanée Français (former Louis-le-Grand):

I have just written to Fréron, as we agreed. This is what I think you ought to ask of him:  1. Being your children’s friend, that he should take all neccesary steps in Horace’s favour with the committees.  2. That he should claim for him the family papers and his father’s manusscript.  3. That he should claim for Horace the family books; they also will be useful for his instruction; they are indispensable for the supply of his wants; besides, this justice has already been done to Citizen Boucher’s widow, therefore there is a precedent for it.  Committees composed of the friends of justice ought to be proud to being useful to the orphans of patriots. Fréron and his friends cannot refuse to act in concert with you. Greetings and friendship.  Brune in a letter to Annette Duplessis, March 3 1795

22 vêntose year 8 I’ve spoken to the Minister of the Interior, Madame, about your (votre) position and that of Horace with so much interest that you inspire in me. He finds it right that the son of Camille Desmoulins enters the Prytanée Français. He told me about it, but it is essential that the child knows how to read and write perfectly before his admission. I will have the honor of seeing you over the next décade, and we will discuss together the procedure to follow; I do not doubt for a single moment the success, based on the way the minister responded to me. You personally have not been forgotten. I told him (because he was unaware) that the National Convention had granted you a pension, which was not paid, and has never been paid, I fear. He is equally prepared to make you receive it. You must send me, 1. the Convention’s decree or the copy of it; 2. your demand or petition, without forgetting to specify since when your pension has not been paid. Citizen Omae? will arrive in 15 days. Yesterday I saw his wife who had just learned of the news through a letter he sent her this Thursday. A thousand hugs to the charming little Horace, and a thousands attachments to his good maman. On the first fine day I’m going to early in the morning read and re-read all the packages from Bourg Égalité and the idyll of the most lovable woman I have known. Salut and respect.  Fréron. Fréron in a letter to Annette Duplessis, March 13 1800

Aside from these two letters, there’s also several unpublished ones, one dated February 20 1795 through which we learn that Fréron, with the help of deputies Aubry, Tallien, Ysabeau and Rovère obtained a reprieve on the sale of Camille’s confiscated bed and libary, which they managed to save for Horace, one dated March 1 1795 and co-authored by Fréron and Laurance to the commissioners handling the sale of the property of convicts of the section of the Théatre-Français, one dated June 17 1800 from Fréron to Annette regarding Horace’s schooling (all of these were mentioned in Camille et Lucile Desmoulins: un rêve de république), and finally one dated April 27 1800 Fréron adressed to Duplain, promising his support to Napoleon so that Horace could enter the Prytanée Français (mentioned in Journaliste, sans-culotte et thermidorien: le fils de Fréron: 1754-1802 (1909).

Finally, according to Marcellin Matton, Fréron named his two children Camille and Lucile in honor of his dead friends. However, I’ve not found any information about said children (which, if they existed at all, must have been illegitimate since Fréron never married) anywhere, neither in Fréron’s family tree nor in the 1909 biography, so perhaps Matton is mistaken here…

[katyswrites]

i think about summer, all the beautiful times

a ‘tis the damn season story

SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff (like, tooth-rotting fluff), Smut (18+), smoking, alcohol use, no use of y/n, just two crazy kids in love

Wordcount: 2k

Author's note: So... I felt like writing a blurb. And, that blurb ended up being in the 'tis the damn season universe. I was inspired by summer and the 4th of July, so here you go! Please note that this takes place between the "now" (Winter 1988) and "later" (New Year's 1989) in the original fic. It's just a little glimpse into Steve and the reader's lives a bit into their real relationship, so enjoy, and happy 4th of July to my fellow Americans :)

LATER, Summer 1989

The day is hot. It was the kind of heat that you can’t escape from, no matter how hard you try. The humidity is brutal, settling around you like a thick, wet blanket you can’t pull off of you. It feels like it seeps into your very bones. The only option is to be in the shade, or the pool. Which is where you find yourself now, blissfully submersed in the water. Music plays through the radio, right behind where Steve’s dad is flipping burgers. Steve’s mother sits with the other moms, including your own, sipping sangria and gossiping as they look on at the scene before them.

The Harringtons are hosting their annual 4th of July barbecue, much to your delight. Not that you are particularly fond of Steve’s parents - but, you couldn’t say no to the enticing idea of the pool. Besides, it was tradition. As kids, you and Steve would play Marco Polo, or see who could make the biggest cannonball with the other neighborhood kids. You would play for hours, until your fingers were pruny and your nearly boundless energy completely spent. Now, of course, things are different. 

“For the lady,” his voice says behind you. You turn, squinting up at the boy through the sun. Steve has a beer bottle in his extended hand, which you accept with a grin.

“Poolside service? Lucky me!” you joke, turning fully to face where he stands on the patio. He sits, letting his legs hang over the edge and submerge in the water. Without hesitation, you rest your head on his knee.

He gazes down at you, eyes soft with a big smile on his face.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “You just look really pretty right now.”

“Ugh,” a voice says not-so-subtly behind you. You whip around to see Dustin mimicking a gagging motion, with Max rolling her eyes behind him.

“Can you guys, like, not do that here?” Max asks, crossing her arms under the water. 

“Says you,” Will chips in from where he sits on the opposite edge of the pool. “The other night you and Lucas were -”

Before he can finish, he’s met with a facefull of water as Max splashes him.

“Hey!” he yells, reaching down to splash her back. She disappears under the water before he can get payback.

You giggle, turning back to Steve.

“Remember when they were actual kids?”

“Yeah, well, they’re heading off to college soon enough.”

You groan, taking a sip of your beer.

“Thanks for reminding me,” you grumble. “We’re old.”

“So old,” he agrees.

You lift your head from his lap, placing the bottle on the edge and swimming backwards, staring up at him mischievously.

“You coming in, Harrington?” you ask sweetly. “I’m all by myself in here, you know.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s up, pulling his t-shirt over his head and quickly discarding it. You laugh as he backs up, shielding yourself as he runs to jump in. It’s no use - you’re covered in water, shrieking as Steve re-emerges a few feet away. 

“STEVE!” you cry, wiping some of the water off of your face.

“What?” he asks innocently, swimming over to you. His normally voluminous hair is slicked back now, his toned arms cutting through the water until he reaches you.

“You know what -”

He doesn’t let you finish, pulling you by the waist and into him, kissing you gently.

Your bare skin brushes against his, you bathing suit-clad bodies leaving little between you two. Your fingers find their way into his wet locks, earning a sigh from him against your lips.

Steve just is summer, you’ve realized. Yes, there’s always a part of you that will be fond of him in his winter coat, rosy-cheeked with snowflakes in his hair as he holds his scarf in your hand, at a loss for words illuminated in your front porch light. But really, he’s sunshine and chlorine, late-night dew and sunscreen, his skin tanned and hair lightened. He tastes a bit like beer as you kiss him, his sun-soaked body warm against yours.

“Gross,” another voice calls - Robin. You pull away from Steve, rolling your eyes at your friend where she stands on the pool’s edge. You stare at her over his shoulder, your hands draping around the back of his neck.

“Piss off, Robin,” you say playfully. 

Sometimes, Robin jokes that she liked it better when you and Steve weren’t speaking - usually after a get a room comment. You know that even she doesn’t believe she means that, though.

“Look out!” she cries. Before you can stop her, she’s jumping in, showering you and Steve in her wake. It soon devolves into a fit of giggles, the three of you soon joined by the younger gaggle of teens in a war of splashes. 

*****

There was one problem with days like these. As the afternoon wore on, you started becoming more impatient. Because, all through the hazy afternoon, no amount of jumping in the pool or eating Mr. Harrington’s soon-to-be famous hamburgers could stop you from wanting to touch Steve. Seeing his broad back, tanned under the sun, droplets of water running down his chest… it was driving you mad. Other than a stolen kiss here and there, the pair of you were on relatively good behavior - how could you not be? Under the watchful eye of your parents, neighbors, friends who had known you since you were children, you had almost no other choice.

No even in the dark of night, when a game of Flip Cup started with the older teens on the lawn did you dare try anything. For one, you were competitive. Across the makeshift folding table, sticky with spilled beer, you stared at Steve with determination as you matched up cups.

“I’m gonna kick your ass, babe,” he said playfully.

“I’d like to see you try, Harrington.”

You ended up beating Steve three times in a row, outdrinking him and earning whoops and cheers from your team, Robin throwing her arms around you and shouting suck it, Harrington!

But, you just found yourself staring at Steve, whose eyes were locked on you. He was smirking, as if to promise payback later.

The rest of the evening is everything that comes with the 4th of July - s’mores, hot and saccharine as they stuck to your fingers, Steve wiping errant marshmallow off of the corner of your mouth; fireworks, visible in the distance over the hill, illuminating the sky with dazzling bursts of color; and, a late night bonfire. You had thrown on one of Steve’s sweatshirts over your now-dry swimsuit, your hand entwined in his as you sit side-by-side in lawn chairs.

The party is winding down, with most of the stragglers being on the younger side. Robin sits across the fire, chatting with Max as Lucas is engrossed in a conversation about Dungeons & Dragons with Eddie Munson. Eventually, though, they leave too, thanking Steve for having them and something along the lines of see you soon.

The night is cooler now, but the blanket of humidity still cloaks the air. The heat of the fire is almost too intense, but a welcome warmth. You already know that Steve’s sweatshirt is going to smell like campfire smoke tomorrow, which makes you only want to hang onto it for a little longer.

You’re starting to get a bit sleepy, satiated and exhausted from the heat, barbecue, and booze-filled day. Steve’s thumb is circling your knuckles.

“You okay?” he asks you softly.

“Mm hm,” you respond noncommittally, the fire lulling you to sleep.

“Good,” he whispers, the sound of his voice much closer now. You feel the warmth of his lips press against your temple, and you sigh contentedly.

“You know - we’re really good at holidays,” you comment.

“Mm - the best. I think we should just celebrate a holiday every day.”

“Agreed.”

He chuckles softly, kissing the crown of your head before leaning back in his chair. Some comfortable silence falls, the space filled with the crackling of fire, cicadas, and the distant boom of fireworks - summer.

Soon, though, there’s a different kind of sound - a distant rumble. You blink your eyes open blearily, groaning.

“Please tell me those are more fireworks,” you say, squinting over the treeline. Then, a flash in the sky, and a crack.

“Shit, a storm,” Steve says, jumping up out of his seat. “We should get inside before -”

Another boom. And, in cruel irony, the skies open up. The thick heat of the day finally breaks, rain suddenly pelting down on you in heavy drops. 

“Oh shit -”

“C’mon!” you cry, taking his hand and booking it to the back door, running through the downpour until you’re in the house. The cool air conditioning hits your now-wet body, and both of you are practically giggling like children. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re both still slightly drunk, or that you’re tired and starting to get loopy, but it soon devolves into the two of you falling into a fit of giggles in Steve’s kitchen.

“Shhhhhh!” you whisper, betraying yourself with another fit of laughter. You lean on Steve for support, laughing into his shoulder.

“You shhh,” he counters, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly.

He holds you like that for a moment, the two of you rocking and swaying in the empty kitchen. The storm rages on outside, rain pattering against the roof accompanied by the occasional rumble of thunder.

“Steve?” you mumble into his shoulder.

“Mm?”

“I love you,” you murmur.

A pause, and you can swear you feel him physically relax beneath you.

“Love you more,” he replies, soft and sincere.

“Not possible.”

He chuckles quietly. Then, he stops and pulls back, staring into your eyes like you’re made of stars.

“What?”

Instead of answering, he tilts your chin with his fingers, and begins kissing you softly. You sigh into the kiss, pulling him closer. Soon enough though, what had started as sweet becomes heated, Steve groaning as your tongue finds its way into his mouth. It’s becoming just a bit sloppy, Steve’s fingers gripping your shoulders so hard you’re afraid they’ll bruise.

“Steve -” you breathe into his mouth.

“Mm - yeah - baby -”

“Can we take this upstairs?” you ask, voice heated.

“Yeah, but my parents are asleep… we need to be quiet -”

“With you, Harrington? Not a chance.”

Before he can respond, you’re turning to the stairs and running up them two at a time. You don’t even need to look back to know that he’s following you every step of the way, just as he always does in everything.

And that night, as Steve touches you and makes you see stars, it dawns on you for not the first time in your life just how lucky you are. Now, Steve is a part of you, half of a whole. He always has been, in a way, for as long as you can remember. As you make love, you remember all of those summer and winter nights spent in his room doing exactly this, discreetly and “as friends.” How gentle he was your first time, taking care of you like you were the most important thing in the world. You remember how you broke his heart, how you told him you loved him for the first time, and everything in between. As he’s kissing your skin, and whispering sweet nothings and praises down your body, you realize that you can’t be without this boy.

It’s afterwards that you finally ask the question, hands intertwined in the dark under twisted bedsheets.

“Come to New York with me,” you whisper through the darkness. A leap of faith.

He pauses, and for a moment, you’re terrified that you’ve said the wrong thing. That is, until he pulls you into a fierce kiss.

“Okay,” he breathes. “You and me, babe. Always.”

Author's note: I know it's short and sweet, but I hope y'all liked it. Let me know your thoughts in the tags, replies, reblogs, etc. Happy 4th of July to all who celebrate!

[superman86to99]

Super Titles Round-Up (July 1994)

This month: Superboy collides with the Parasite! Steel collides with Hardware! This blog collides with the Green Lantern one!

Superboy #6

LOTS happening in this issue ("Worlds Collide," "Fall of Metropolis," the Super-Parasite, Cadmus' fate revealed, a mysterious "Lady Dragon" villain cameo, Dubbilex loves tanning) but the most important part is: Superboy finally meets Krypto! You know, that little mutt Bibbo saved from drowning and then tried to name "Krypton" but the guy making the collar tag wanted to charge him extra for the final letter? Anyway, it's the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

About Cadmus: turns out everyone in it wasn't crushed to death in Action #700. Superman deflected the missile blast but allowed everyone, including Superboy, to think that the place was destroyed to prevent Luthor from trying to destroy it for real, I guess. Now the place is in pretty bad shape (especially for Guardian, who gave up like half of his blood to create the cure to the Clone Plague) but they're using this opportunity to go back to being a secret government agency, like they were before Superboy ran his big mouth.

Superboy is glad his friends at Cadmus are alive, but he doesn't really wanna hang out underground, so he goes back to Metropolis to help rescue survivors (especially those right in front of TV cameras). He happens to rescue Cat Grant's elderly neighbor just as Cat is reporting from outside her own destroyed building, and he even gives Cat a photo he found of her with some little kid we haven't seen in a while...

By the way, this is how Superboy's friends back in Hawaii find out he didn't die from the Clone Plague (his manager Rex Leech was already starting to look for other "super-types" to manage).

Meanwhile, the Parasite, who's been on the loose ever since he stole Superman's excess powers and became all big and buff, runs into Fred Bentson, the reality-hopping mailman from the "Worlds Collide" crossover, and tries to absorb his freaky reality-hopping energy. Superboy intervenes and, with Dubbilex's help, ends up tricking the Parasite into getting his own energy sucked by Metropolis' electric grid, leaving him looking like an empty Parasite cosplay suit.

As for Fred, he's understandably freaked out by the whole situation, runs away, and clumsily falls off a bridge (despite Bibbo's efforts to rescue him). Superboy grabs him as he's falling, and that's when Fred teleports them both to Milestone Comics' Dakotaverse, leading to their appearance in Icon #11. And that, in turns, leads to...

Steel #6

Last time we saw John Henry, he said he was gonna kill his old boss, the Colonel, for trying to murder John's family and causing his nephew Jemahl to shoot himself up with a superhuman drug that messed him up pretty badly. For a second, it does look like John is gonna kill the Colonel... but nah, he was just scaring him into confessing who he's been working for: some organization by the not very original name of "Black Ops" that operates in Metropolis.

So John goes to Metropolis to look up these "Black Ops" fellows, and as it happens, they're the ones operating the shady sleep clinic from the "Worlds Collide" storyline. The head of the group is a generous philanthropist called Manual Cabral who in his spare time dresses up in a slick robot armor and tries to exploit the reality-hopping powers of innocent mailmen. Reality-hopping is exactly what Fred and Superboy do once again, but this time they also bring Milestone's Hardware and Rocket along from the Dakotaverse.

Cabral (or "Hazard," as he likes to be called when he's wearing the armor) sends some goons to capture Fred, but his new super-friends won't allow it. Steel hears the resulting ruckus and flies in to help, but Hardware mistakes him for another goon and their obligatory fight scene ensues. Just when Rocket has gotten the boys to stop fighting, everyone but Steel is teleported back to the other universe.

Superman shows up to increase this issue's resale value even more, and Steel barely has any time to explain the situation to him before there's another bizarre plot twist: Fred somehow made a literal bridge between the two worlds! (But we already knew that from the Milestone issues.) CONTINUED!

Outsiders #9

The Eradicator finds out that his old pals the Outsiders are now in super-prison and he's like "That means they must be guilty! I'm gonna go there and kill them." But, when he gets there, he's like "Aw, I can't stay mad at you guys" and helps them break out.

He ends up rejoining the team to help them prove their innocence, because deep down, he's a big softie. By the way, that super-prison is the Slab, the same one Mongul broke out of in Green Lantern #52, which leads to...

Green Lantern #53

Superman drops by LA to help the All-New, All-Confused Green Lantern, Kyle Rayner, who can't understand why a yellow guy from outer space is trying to kill him. This issue includes the classic moment in which Superman and Kyle introduce themselves to each other and Superman says one of his most perfectly Superman quotes: "By the way, I'm Superman."

Read my full post for this issue at the greenlantern94to04 blog, which finally caught up chronologically to this one, and I'm planning to keep them that way (especially with a certain timeline-shaking crossover coming up...).

Wonder Woman #88

We talked about this issue in the post for Man of Steel #35, but how could I pass up the opportunity to show that Brian Bolland cover here? Aside from the robot-fighting stuff we already covered, the plot is about Diana feeling unhinged due to some magical shenanigans going on in her series and coming to Metropolis to ask Superman to do whatever it takes to "stop her" if she ever puts innocent lives at risk. Too bad she can't just give him a ring that'd take care of it.

"Unless it's an innocent who's been retconned into being evil. Then just let me snap his neck."

Superman's reaction is telling Wonder Woman she might be "overreacting" and then ditching her with Dr. Fate (actually a villain in disguise) because Diana "won't be much use until she gets her head together." Are we sure Superman isn't the one whose personality was magically altered to make him a dick?

Showcase '94 #8

Not technically Superman-related, but this issue has a very interesting story written by Dan Jurgens in which Waverider and his fellow Linear Man (Rip) Hunter notice some time disturbances in 1994 and go check them out. This turns out to be a trap by the villainous Monarch, formerly the heroic Hank "Hawk" Hall (what's with guys called Hal/Hall going evil?). Waverider touches Monarch to look into his future and find out what he's up to, and what he sees shocks him. Then a blast to the face shocks him in a more literal way.

Monarch kidnaps Waverider, and... CONTINUED! All across the DCU!

[weebsinstash]

So, hear me out, but; what if y/n was totally aware that Miguel is into them? It's flattering, having this huge, incredibly dangerous man that's really obviously weak in the knees when you give him doe eyes, or lean over him and press your chest up against his back to point at something on his screen. You never treat it seriously, always flitting in and out of Nueva York and in and out of Miguel's reach. Teasing, flirting, but never going further than that, simply enjoying the attention and warm fuzzies that come with making a man break the mug he's holding because you stretched and your shirt rode up enough to expose your belly.

And it's not like he's gonna do anything bad! It's just flirting, and he's a fellow Spiderperson! You're all good people here... Right?

This is kind of different but similar but, I find myself drawn to Reader inserts/characters that like, maybe if they don't hate themselves, are like inherently incapable of even considering that someone might like them romantically, like you're not constant gloom and doom but you find the concept of someone loving you romantically outright wacky crazy

Miguel throws a lil tiny experimental flirt towards Reader to test the waters, and Reader flirts right back because they think he's JOKING. Miguel takes that as a sign and starts giving you more compliments and little flirtatious remarks and you just think this is like, platonic teasing, that he's ribbing you, you think Its Like A Friend Thing Like A Gimmick, and it takes him a while to notice you have absolutely no idea he's being 2099% serious when he makes those corny comments about how he gets lost in your eyes, saying shit like he's the hunky male lead from a telenovela or something

Combine this with the alternative dangerously risky concept of "Reader who jokingly says foul/raunchy shit" which is also a Val/Reader concept I've had. But like. Idk. Miguel sees you slurping a soda or sweet drink or idk even smoking and he jokes like "wow those are some lungs" and without blinkijg before you can even consider the consequences you hit him with "yeah I can suck dick like this too" and he chokes on his own food in shock, red as a tomato. Or Reader jokingly slaps his butt like some real football locker room go team shit or maybe you're teasing him and telling him he's "fat" and he has to excuse himself while the skin is still stinging because, oh my GOD did you just give him the biggest hard-on and it's about to EXPLODE--

Just accidentally making him totally crazy about you because you're literally too doubtful of him potentially having feelings for you or being interested in you in any capacity besides platonically that you accidentally act your unhindered full charisma self. You're too doubtful of him loving you to be self conscious and embarrassed of anything you say or do and think he just sees you as like, a sibling. Someday you'll learn to regret all those times you jokingly kissed him on the cheek because you thought it would gross him out or the time you got too drunk on spiked eggnog at the Christmas party and kissed him right on the mouth, but like, almost as you would a brother or a cat, as you coo how handsome he is, hes such a pretty boy, and "why hasn't he found himself a wife yet-- wait shit I am so sorryyyyyyyy i forgot 😥" because. You know. poor guy. But also. Gotta love the dilf factor

Ughhhhhh there really are a lot of us feeling the "baby trapping" energy from this man. Miguel who pokes holes in condoms because the second you get pregnant "oh, in that case well, I'll take responsibility and marry you and we can raise the baby :)" which I mean, considering his losses that's its own significant undertaking for him, that entire process and line of thinking is some sort of combination "healing" while getting ten times worse. Not to say he doesn't adore you or the thought of having kids with you, just... he might not be considering the most noble of methods anymore, for anything really. Getting drinks with you and biding his time until the alcohol slowly loosens you up and he gets you alone and you're too tipsy and sex hungry to stop and realize he isn't using protection until he's, you know, finishing inside of you. He'll use a drunken one night stand to try and weasel his way into dating you, if you're not already pregnant from that one night. I mean shit he's just so like large and imposing and just, God, he's hot though, I feel like it would be so hard to not visibly be flustered at the very least, and he'll use any reactions you make as cues for what he can try next. Even just suddenly grabbing your hips or waist or sides and making you suddenly squeak and he can tell by the look on your face that he's totally getting you hot even if maybe you're embarrassed and might not inherently want to act on anything (yet? Imagine wanting that Thick Dilf Dick and being physically attracted to him and respecting him and so you legitimate pursue him if only hust for sex and somehow you Accidentally Unlock The Crazy In Him)

One day you think he's just a harmless coworker, the next day you're finding he's got extensive stalker ass records for you, pictures, videos, just surveillance things, and he's not quite as Charming and Valiant to you anymore. In fact you're just about starting to realize all those comments he made that made you swoon before are now starting to make your skin crawl, but hey, just like you stumbled upon his secret, he stumbles upon you and catches you red handed, and well, he's sorry you found out this way but he was going to confess to you more seriously eventually right? Is THIS enough of a clear signal for you yet?

[mocha-mothman]

Bells Hells as Things My Friends Have Said

Chetney: Ripping people apart is how I stim.

Laudna: I deserve a joint and a forehead kiss!

FCG: I have affirmations I wrote for you to use. Or just jump to biting. I just work here, do as you see fit.

Fearne: I realized I wasn't stealing enough. And I needed to fix that.

Imogen: But I'm the one who gets creative. That's why people get exploded.

Orym: I devote myself to the queen and her boy-girlfriend.

Ashton: Why am I not the villain? I have the perfect personality AND the traumatic backstory to be one. I'm also very hot so it would just work out perfectly.

Bonus

Sir Bertrand: Hello, fellow kids. Would you like some smuggled beanie babies?

Dorian: God cursed me with social anxiety and a need not to be bothersome, all so I wouldn't be drowning in pussy.

Deana: Imma need 3 buisness weeks to process that I saw your abs.

FRIDA: What if the real gay rep was the friends we made along the way?

Prism: I'm not an "academic weapon". I'm the academic equivalent of WD-40 and duct tape.

✎Edit to add in new quotes for other honorary BH members:

Deni$e: You have to be careful with creative accounting, 'cause sometimes it qualifies as "illegal" or "tax evasion" or whatever else the man says to keep ya down.

Bor'Dor: I don't know the exact energy I give off, but it can't be good.

Yu: Gender is but a performance. And I'm an improv actor.

[ek-atherine]

Ink Manifestation (Satoru Gojo x Reader): Chapter Six

Satoru and I later became teachers together at the Jujutsu High. The newer first-year students, Maki Zen’in, Panda, and Toge Inumaki, brought a fresh energy to our classes. Each of them showed remarkable talent and potential in their own unique ways, reminding me why I became so passionate about teaching jujutsu in the first place.

Satoru had met up with the higher ups about some kid potentially being brought to the school. Maki, Panda, and Inumaki were gathered with me in the classroom, waiting for Satoru's arrival to introduce the new student. Rumors had already started circulating about the boy's troubled past. He had apparently stuffed four of his fellow classmates into a locker, a complete cover-up was being done, and they were planning on executing the boy. 

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Satoru strode in with his usual flair, drawing everyone's attention. "Students of all grades, we have a new student! Give him a hand!" he announced enthusiastically, his voice echoing through the room.

Maki rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "I heard the kid’s a real wet blanket. The last thing I need is another moody rookie to look after," she remarked with a hint of annoyance.

"Salmon," Inumaki concurred solemnly, nodding in agreement with Maki's sentiment.

I glanced at the three of them, sensing their skepticism. "Be welcoming, please. He's been through a lot lately," I reminded them softly, hoping to ease any initial judgments they might have.

"You can come on in now!" Satoru's voice boomed through the closed door, prompting Yuta to slide it open cautiously and step inside. As he entered, a palpable aura of cursed energy surrounded him, causing my eyes to widen in slight shock. Perhaps I should have met him beforehand, I thought, taken aback by the overwhelming presence of the curse hanging on him.

Yuta walked nervously to the front of the room to introduce himself. "I'm Yuta," he managed to say before Maki swiftly threw her weapons next to his head, startling him visibly. The other two, Panda and Inumaki, also tensed up, ready to react. I couldn't blame them; Satoru hadn't properly warned us about the intense curse presence Yuta carried.

Despite the initial tension, Yuta stood there quietly, his demeanor unsure yet somehow resilient. He had a slender build and tousled dark hair, and his eyes held a mixture of apprehension and determination. His presence exuded a raw, untamed power that seemed both dangerous and intriguing.

"Is this some kind of test?" Maki demanded, her eyes narrowed suspiciously at Satoru and me. She turned her attention back to Yuta, her tone firm. "Hey. Don’t you know you’re cursed? This is a place to learn about curses, not a place for the cursed to be hanging around."

Satoru's expression turned serious as he began to explain. "The number of people who die mysterious deaths or go missing in Japan averages over 10,000 a year. Many of these incidents aren't accidents but are caused by curses, born from negative emotions. Some of the worst cases are caused by curse users themselves. Only curses can affect other curses. This school is where we learn how to exorcise them. Welcome to Tokyo Jujutsu High School."

Yuta and the other students listened in shock at Satoru's revelation, and I couldn't hide my surprise either. "Why are you just explaining this to him now?" I interjected, unable to contain my disbelief.

"My bad," Satoru replied casually, earning an eye-roll from me. "Now, everyone, you might want to step back."

"Huh?" The students chorused in confusion, just as two giant, white-clawed arms suddenly burst forth from the chalkboard behind Yuta. One arm effortlessly retrieved Maki’s weapon from the board.

"Do not bully Yuta!" a female voice boomed angrily.

"Stop it, Rika!" Yuta pleaded, trying to calm the unseen entity. Rika flung Maki’s weapon aside and swung one of her massive arms, swatting all the students away before vanishing once more.

The classroom fell into stunned silence, broken only by the sound of desks and chairs scraping as the students hastily scrambled to their feet.

“So, as you can see, this boy was cursed by his friend Rika, who is still madly in love with him. Be nice to him or else Rika will get you!” Satoru explained with a touch of eerie playfulness. “Remember, if you attack Yuta, Rika’s curse will activate, or maybe it won’t. Its hard to say. So be careful everyone!”

“Now he tells us.” Maki muttered under her breath. 

“Since these fine students are acting all cool, let me introduce them to you real quick-like.” Satoru continued, gesturing to each of us in turn. “This is the cursed tool user, Maki Zen’in. She uses special tools to exorcize curses.”

Maki remained silent but nodded, her demeanor serious and focused.

“This is the cursed speech user, Toge Inumaki,” Satoru said, moving on to Inumaki. “He can only speak in rice ball ingredients, so have fun chatting.”

“Kelp.” Inumaki greeted with a wave.

“And Panda.” Satoru introduced simply.

“Hi, I’m Panda. It’s nice to meet you.” Panda greeted warmly. 

“And this lovely tatted up lady is your other teacher (Y/n) (L/n).” Satoru announced, turning towards me with a flourish. “She’s not just our toughest combat instructor, but also our one and only ink manipulation cursed user.”

I smiled warmly at Yuta, giving him a slight wave. “It’s nice to meet you, Yuta,” I greeted, hoping to ease his nerves with a friendly gesture.

“Okay, you’re all set.” Satoru announced with a clap of his hands, prompting Yuta to join the other students. “All right, then, our first year class is a solid four students.”

“Okay guys, for your afternoon jujutsu practice, you’ll be in pairs of two on two.”  I elaborated, addressing the group. “Panda and Inumaki, you’re a team, and Maki and Yuta, you guys are a team.”

Satoru and I eventually took Maki and Yuta to their training mission: exorcising curses in an elementary school and rescuing two missing kids. It was a test to see if Rika would be unleashed and to understand how she operated. We needed to work with something we understood, and this was also an opportunity to properly introduce Yuta to curses and exorcism missions.

“Where are we?” Yuta askes as he looks around the outside of the school.

“It’s just an elementary school.” Satoru replies. 

“Well, its an elementary school were some children have gone missing.” I explain further. 

“Gone missing?” Yuta asks, shocked. 

“It happens a lot in places like this.” I tell Yuta. “Most likely the work of a naturally-occurring curse.”

“Are you saying a curse actually kidnapped some kids?” Yuta asks. 

“Yup, two kids so far.” Satoru says as we turn to face the kids. 

“Curses tend to settle in spots like these.” Maki explains. “Places where bad memories occurred. Schools, hospitals. Places often remembered with negative emotions are a receptacle for curses. As those emotions build up, they can cause a curse to be born. Like it was here.”

“We’re here to exorcize the curse and save the kids or retrieve them if they didn’t make it.” I explain, mainly to Yuta, Maki knows the drill at this point. 

Yuta gasps. “Dead?”

“Emerge from darkness blacker still. Purify that which is impure.” Satoru says, as soon as he finishes the veil starts to slowly form. 

“It’s turning into night!” Yuta exclaimed. 

“Its a veil, its a barrier of sorts to help smoke out the curses. Also keeping you hidden from the outside.” I explain as Satoru and I walk towards the exit to the school yard.

“Its pretty easy to undo from inside. Do be careful now you two! Try not to die.” Satoru says to the two as we made it outside the veil before it finally finishes dropping. 

“Well aren’t you just so encouraging.” I say sarcastically to Satoru, giving him a playful nudge. 

Satoru chuckles and looks at me. "You know me. Always the optimist."

I roll my eyes but can't help but smile. "You better hope those kids come out unscathed, or I'll be having words with you."

He raises an eyebrow. "Is that a threat, Ms. (L/n)?"

I lean in closer, smirking. "Consider it a promise, Mr. Gojo."

Satoru laughs and drapes an arm over my shoulder. "I like it when you get all tough. It's cute."

I shake my head, amused. We lean against the car we all came in, eyes trained on the veil, alert for any sign of trouble.

“They’ll be fine you know? You worry too much.” Satoru says, breaking the silence. He stretches his arms above his head, the relaxed motion at odds with the tension in the air.

I glance at him, my arms crossed. "And you worry too little. I mean, you did throw them into the deep end on their first mission." 

Satoru shrugs, a grin playing on his lips. "Sink or swim, right? Besides, it's the best way to learn. They'll come out stronger."

I roll my eyes but can't suppress a small smile. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"That's why you love me," he quips.

I shake my head, amused. "Keep dreaming, Gojo."

Suddenly, a splatter of blood hits the veil making me slightly jump. “Oh, someone is jumpy.” Satoru teases. 

My face turns slightly red. “I am not! You’re saying that’s not terrifying at all?” I retort, crossing my arms defensively. 

Satoru chuckles, clearly amused. “Sure, sure. Just keep telling yourself that.”

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the warmth in my cheeks. Satoru wasn’t paying attention thankfully, he was more intrigued by Rika. 

“Rika Orimoto at her strongest. Impressive special-grade curse.” Satoru chuckles to himself. “So scary.”

“Oh, so you actually agree?” I ask him, my tone tinged with annoyance since he was just teasing me for jumping. The veil finally disappears, revealing Yuta emerging with the unconscious two kids, and Maki close behind him. They were injured, but it didn't look like anything life-threatening.

Satoru and I quickly rushed them all to the hospital, the doctors had told Satoru and me they were all going to be just fine. We stood out in the hallway of the hospital rooms with Yuta. 

"Maki and the kids are going to be fine, Yuta," I reassured him, hoping to ease his worries.

"That’s a relief," Yuta replied softly.

"Funny, you don’t look very relieved to me," Satoru chimed in, his tone teasing but observant.

Yuta glanced down at the ring on his hand, lost in thought. "I did it. I managed to call Rika out by myself."

"Oh, really? That’s a big step forward," Satoru praised genuinely.

Yuta seemed to wrestle with his thoughts before his gaze settled on a little boy walking down the hallway. I noticed his contemplative expression and asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I was just remembering something," Yuta explained slowly. "I’m starting to think Rika didn’t curse me after all. I think I might have been the one who cursed Rika."

"You very well may be right," Satoru responded, his tone unusually serious. "There’s no curse more twisted than love."

That comment from Satoru struck a chord with me, though I couldn't quite place why. It lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

"All right then, there’s something I want to learn while I’m at Jujutsu High. I want to break Rika’s curse," Yuta declared, determination gleaming in his eyes.

I notice a male doctor approaching us, and I recognize him from Maki’s hospital room. He looks a bit nervous, but he gathers the courage to speak. "Hey, I just wanted to say, I like your tattoos," he says, his voice almost trembling.

I smile warmly at him, appreciating the compliment. "Thank you. They mean a lot to me."

“So, you’re a teacher, huh?” he asks, trying to make conversation. “Your student really seems to hold you in high regard,” he adds, referring to Maki.

“Yeah, it’s a small class, so I’m very close with my students,” I explain.

“That’s very admirable,” he says, seeming to gain some confidence. He leans against the wall as we continue to talk. Wait, is this guy flirting with me?

Before I can respond, Satoru suddenly steps in, his usual playful demeanor replaced with something else. "Hey, (Y/n), we really need to get going. Important teacher stuff, you know?" His arm casually drapes over my shoulder, his grip just a bit tighter than usual.

The doctor glances at Satoru, then back at me. "You seem like you’re doing a great job. It’s nice to see dedicated teachers."

"Thanks," I say, feeling a bit flustered by the interruption. "It’s rewarding work."

Satoru's smile is tight. "We do our best to keep things interesting." He starts to gently steer me away from the doctor, clearly wanting to end the conversation.

The doctor smiles, his nervousness starting to fade. "Well, I should get back to work. But it was nice talking to you."

"You too," I reply. "Take care."

As the doctor walks away, Satoru keeps his arm around my shoulder, his expression a mix of amusement and something else. "Looks like someone’s got an admirer," he says, but his tone is less teasing and more possessive.

I roll my eyes, trying to hide the slight blush creeping up my cheeks. "Oh, stop it. He was just being nice."

Satoru chuckles softly. "Sure, sure. Just being nice."

"What’s your issue though?" I ask, catching his change in demeanor.

Satoru shrugs nonchalantly. "No issue. Just don’t want any distractions from our important teacher duties."

I raise an eyebrow at him, knowing there’s more behind his protective stance than he’s letting on. "Right. Well, let’s get back to it then."

With a final squeeze of my shoulder, Satoru nods. "Absolutely."