#why dont they make it easier?? ah whatever

[kill0mtr]

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thank you soldier o7

[prettyboykatsuki]

fuck your inhibition. | k. bakugou

♢ tags ; very big age gaps (19 years), questionable ethics, ex deliquent / runaway reader (22), fighting / violence, brief mentions of living on the streets, retired pro-hero bakugou (41), emotionally charged sex, afab + masc!reader, top!reader, bottom bakugou, reader is really rough around the edges, backstory for reader, arguing, oral (both receiving),rimming (m!recieving), strap-ons (not a dom thing. no particular power dynamics), prone-bone, dirty talk, size difference (reader is smaller but no specifics), happy endings sort of.

no explicitly gendered terms for reader. usage of words like clit / cunt for readers body parts. reader is implied bisexual.

(also while this fic is certainly intended to be read as masc., it can just as easily be read as completely gn.)

♢ wc ; 10.2k (two days. this is so alarming)

♢ a/n ; happy birthday to my favorite guy. sorry in advance. this fic is so disgustingly self-indulgent. str8 self-inserty ngl. i simply dont want to look at it djskfgdf. this fic is pretty tame tho age gap aside. been a while since ive written for him. title is from "lemme know" by vince staples

♢ synopsis ; who knew that the boudoir pictures you've been getting off too your whole life would look so much better in person?

You’re not convinced there’s any way to get used to getting your lights knocked out. 

At this point, your fighting prowess is good enough that you can dodge swings from even heavy handed opponents. Just agile enough to bob and weave. Your reflexes are good too, from years of getting into with cops or otherwise. So getting absolutely dusted in a single, swift motion is not a frequent occurrence. 

That’s why you are sorely caught off guard when it happens to you in the back of an alleyway, tucked into a corner of Osaka—a long ways from home.

You were fucked from the minute you stepped foot off the train; you knew that instinctively. You haven’t been back in years and it’s not like you’re here for leisure. And sure, you took the job knowing there was some possibility you’d run into some old foes but shit. They couldn’t’ve waited till the week was over? 

3 days in and your life as a runaway comes back to bite you in the ass. Worse, they catch in front of the very storefront you were  working up the nerve to visit at the end of the week. If that old man catches you 1. making a ruckus in front of his cherished bakery and 2. fighting like those “worthless punks” that he openly detests, he’s definitely gonna be on your ass.

It’s amidst conflict, you decide to take the beating and wait it out. Hopefully, whatever higher power is looking over you will let you get out without busting your lip. 

But fuck, this last hit is leaving you worse for wear. You blink your eyes open and you’re still surrounded by him and his bunch of goons. What was this dudes name again…? Aka…Aka-something, you think. Without warning, you get another punch, a clean left-hook  - this time to your side. You cough at the sensation. 

Ah, life is so unfair to you. 

He grabs you by the front of your collar, dragging you upwards until you’re nose to nose. This fuckers breath is hot. Something warm slips down your nose, a rivulet of blood over your lips. You grunt. 

“I should’ve beat the shit out of you the first time.” 

You blink slowly as you regain your vision and sense. Despite many transgressions and altercations, your time in Osaka as a fugitive is notable. This bunch of fiends are a somewhat half-assed motorbike gang. It’s an old story. You stole and ruined  not one, not two, but four of their bikes total. In your defense you were a young kid scrounging for change - hotwiring and deconstructing for parts was always  pretty profitable. And stealing flashy bikes was a hell of a lot easier than scratching up your knees in the scrap yard. 

Ah, there was that other thing too. Why you’re pretty sure this guy has held such a grudge against you for god knows how long. Irritable with a bad sense of self-preservation, you give up on behaving well. 

“Yeah? No need to sulk now, right?” You grin, hands practically itching to throw him onto the ground. A familiar sense of adrenaline burns in your stomach. You should just hit him, but you don’t - instead opting to aim where you know it’s gonna piss him off most “How’s your little sister by the way?” 

Red flashes in his eyes, nose puffed like a bull. Despite your self-satisfaction, you close your eyes and pray to god he doesn’t actually kill you. There’s still some ass you have to tap before you die and it’d be a real shame to die only inches away. You cover your face when his fist winds up. Riling him up was probably a bad move.

Before you get your lights punched out forreal, an angel comes to rescue you. 

“Oi, you fuckin’ punks—go take this shit somewhere else or I’m gonna singe every last goddamn hair on your head.”

You smile, almost drunk on the adrenaline. An angel, indeed. A cursing, blonde, abrasive angel. 

“Oh, shit—we gotta get outta here. That dude Dynamight doesn’t fuck around”

Before you know it, said group of miscreants disperses like a swarm of flies. You find yourself stumbling back against a bunch of crates, back hitting them and sliding down, snagging in your work clothes. The leader says something about “not being finished with you yet,” but you don’t catch it with how your ears are ringing in your skull.

You rub your eyes and groan, seeing double. When you open them again, your favorite blonde old man is standing in front of you. Arms crossed over his chest, sporting that signature glare you’re so fond of. 

Your head is throbbing. Fuck it hurts. 

You only manage one sentence before promptly blacking out. 

“Did I die and go to heaven?”

— 

You wake up in a familiar bed. 

A bed you spent a lot of time resting in when you were out at on the streets here, something like four  years ago now. The memories of the time aren’t entirely pleasant - being a homeless runaway was pretty shit. But meeting your life long hero (and getting your rocks off in his bed) are quite fond regardless. You’re surrounded by nice, white linen sheets that you’re pretty sure cost more than you make in a month. He’s not really much of a flashy character despite his career, but he does have an eye for the finer things. 

You haven’t been back here in a while. Since moving to a different prefecture, you haven’t had any good reason to come see him. This week was a good excuse for just that. Didn’t exactly plan on it happening like this, but you can’t really win 'em all. You’d consider being back here a win on your part regardless. 

The fact that you’re here instead of molding in the pouring rain means that he dragged you up there by himself. A fact you try not to put too much stock into, because he’s still a pro even if he’s retired. What makes it hard not to feel giddy about it is the fact you’re all cleaned up. Bandaged wounds and all, he even took off your shoes. Jeez, he’s gonna kill you one of these days acting so cute. 

You turn to lay on your back, reaching your hand to the ceiling and making a fist. Your knuckles are still pretty bruised up but it’s clear he took some time to check over them. You drop your hand down, squeezing a fist over your chest and sighing. You roll over again. 

“Still giving me so many mixed signals.” You say, half in jest, trying not to be too affected by it “Ah, fuck, this is bad. Gonna end up doing something weird just like old times.” 

Before you commit another act of degeneracy in the bed of your long time crush and childhood hero, you sit up with your legs over the edge. He took your pants off too, a pair of boxers hung low on your hips. Your back is fucking killing you. 

You stand to your feet, scratching the back of your neck as you turn to examine yourself in the mirror. You pull your tank up over your side, a bruise the size of a melon developing on you. It goes from just under your chest all the way down to above your waist. You press your finger to it and wince at the sensation of pain, dull but throbbing so deep in your nerves you can’t help but feel it. 

You examine the rest of you, turning to either side. Work tomorrow is gonna fucking blow, but considering you don’t have any broken ribs - you think it’s not the worst it could be. No stitches either, so a win overall. If the rest of the week passed by silently that’d  be perfect. 

You look around the room for your things. They’re in a neat chair in the corner of the room.  Bakugou’s cat is over there too, asleep on your uniform. You can hear something faint from downstairs, the sound of a T.V. playing. You should drop down there since you’re awake  but you’re reluctant. You wonder if he’ll chase you out since you’re up. If he still has as much of a soft spot for you as he used to, it couldn’t hurt to test your luck. 

You open up the bedroom door and shut it quietly before padding down stairs. 

You end up finding him where you’d expect him.  He’s in the kitchen with an apron on, a fitted gray shirt with a piping bag in hand.

 He looks older every time you see him. His hair isn’t all gray yet but the platinum is starting to turn brilliant white. There’s lines in his face that weren’t always there, even with the scars and fine wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. He’s still as jacked as he used to be, but it’s softened up. Mostly it’s his personality, you find, to be mellow. Only someone with patience could take up such a tedious hobby after an entire life out in the field - killing baddies and chasing thugs and whatever other shit hero’s do. 

It’s kind of ridiculous that he’s piping delicate little designs onto some pastries, but unfortunately for you it only adds to his charm. You lean against the wall coming into the kitchen, in the frame. Half-dressed with your lips quirked up in a coy smile. 

“Whatcha makin’ old man?” 

“Don’t break my concentration you noisy brat,” He says straightforwardly “Sit down and shut up.” 

“So cranky,” You muse,  but ultimately comply, sitting at a chair on the kitchen island. Looks like he’s on his last round of whatever he’s making. 

You get by on staring at him. It’s pretty typical for you even now. Sitting here in front of him doesn’t feel as awkward as you expected, which is worth something. When he’s finally finished, he puts the piping bag on the counter and wipes his forehead with the back of his arm. 

“Permission to speak, sarge?” You ask, sarcastically. He frowns at you. 

“Not granted.” 

“Cold as ever huh,” You say, leaning your elbow on the counter - palm on your cheek “Thought distance was supposed to make the heart grow fonder?” 

“That only counts if there’s fondness in the first place.” He says with ease. This time you scoff at him, but he cuts you off before you get a chance to reply “You wake up with any pain?” 

“Worry about yourself, you old bastard,” You say impudently. You see the corners of his lips twitch as he stares at you “‘m fine. Got a nasty bruise on my side but my ribs aren’t broken. Work tomorrow is gonna suck.” 

“That why you’re back here?” 

“For about a week, yeah.” 

“Confidential?” 

You shake your head and lean back. 

“Nah. Bodyguarding some rich dude’s kid. Birthday tomorrow. Spent the first two days being a lousy maid but the pay is good so I can’t complain.” 

“Shit. The party is tomorrow? I have an order for tomorrow.” 

“Guess you’re not senile yet, old man.” 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou says, not bothering to hide to his expression “How old’s the kid?

“A little younger than me I’d guess. 19 or so.” 

“Isn’t this a good opportunity to get laid?” He suggests like he’s purposefully trying to irritate you. He already knows how you feel. Why he insists on pretending is beyond you but it never fucking fails to piss you off. 

You shoot him a glare. 

“Nevermind. You’re definitely senile. Might wanna try some puzzle games to keep your shit in tact before you start peeing in public and buying ten pairs of the same pants.” 

“You’re still just as mouthy as I remember.” 

“Learned from the best.” 

A comfortable silence settles as a weird feeling overtakes you. Fuck, you’re still pining your youth away after all this time. Maybe getting laid would fix some of your issues, but no one is gonna hold a candle to having the real thing. You rub your temple in preemptive apprehension. Bakugou starts working on cleaning up the kitchen, and you resign yourself to thinking about what you’re gonna do. 

It catches you off-guard when he talks to you first. 

“Earlier,” He says, opening up the fridge to rearrange it “Why weren’t you fighting back?” 

You don’t know whether you want to laugh or cry hearing him ask. You don’t feel like softening the blow with your usual shit, so you give it to him straight. 

“It doesn’t suit a tactical genius to play dumb, old man.” 

He stiffens, then sighs. 

“Still hung up on that, huh.” 

Oh now you’re gonna get pissed. 

“Don’t.” You warn, low and indifferent. He sighs, sliding a tray into the fridge and “Don’t piss me off, alright?” 

“Hey. You shitty punk. When are you gonna get it through your thick skull I’m doing this for your fucking sake? Stop—”

“Next time, just leave me in the rain.” You seethe, venom in your voice, making you numb and agitated. He stops, breath hitching “I don’t give a shit if you’re a retired  hero. I’m serious. Leave me out in the alley next time if you’re gonna pull the mentor act again..”

Man this sucks. 

Not like you were expecting some heart warming love story out of a guy like him but still. You didn’t think he wouldn’t budge at all. You can feel yourself getting angry just thinking about it. It might’ve been better not to come. Mentor or not, his whole dismissal never fails to annoy you to your core. You knew that before the week started he might be like this. Maybe if shit went your way - you could’ve had a regular reunion. But now, he just had to see you getting beat up on purpose and he just had to fucking ask about it. 

Seriously, where’s his decorum? Prick. 

“Kid.” 

“Don’t—I needa get outta here. I shouldn’tve—fuck, this blows.”

You stand to your feet before you have a chance to look back. You feel kind of pathetic running away again but it’s still the preferable option to having this fight a second time. It’s something you’re just too sensitive about to deal with head on. Getting rejected twice by the guy you’ve been in love with since you were nineteen is bound to fuck you up abs you don’t have it in you not to drink yourself into a fit. 

So you’re practically running up the stairs, but you can hear him calling behind you. You go into the bedroom to get your things and Bakugou follows you into it predictably, shutting the door.  You turn around to him, annoyed. 

“Get outta my way.” 

“No. Not while you’re all pissy. Gonna get yourself hit by a car.” 

“What’d I just say about cooling it with the mentor act, man?” 

“It’s not a fuckin’—it’s not an act.” He says, with a sigh that almost makes you feel bad, “I haven’t seen you in two years.” 

“Two years is nothing. Old age is making you soft,” You scoff, arms crossed over your chest “But I don’t need your sympathy. My feelings haven’t changed.” 

“Kid.” 

“I’m not a kid anymore, alright? Cleaned my act up, got a job and a license and a place. Haven’t slept in a cell in two years. Been off the streets that whole time just like you told me to do.  The least you could do is take me seriously.” 

“I didn’t want you to do that shit for me. I wanted you to do it for you.” 

“Too bad,” You reply back almost immediately, pinching the bridge of your nose “Save your lecture for the next injured bird you raise up and leave me out of it.” 

“I’m trying to put you on the right path, you ungrateful little jackass. Don’t act like—“

“Spare me the goddamn lecture.” 

There’s a quiet silence befalls the both of you. Shit is going nowhere fast and you both know it, Bakugou as much as you do. Memories of your last argument come back to you almost instantly. 

After you turned eighteen, you were run out of the orphanage you’d spent part of your adolescence at. It’s a pretty regular sob story and you’re quite the sad sap. A dead mom in Mustafu and an absent father. You had a strong quirk, and hell maybe if you grew up different - you could’ve been a hero. 

Shit didn’t  work out that way, so at 11 you were thrown to the wolves. It’s not a fun time to look back on and you figure there’s no use thinking about the past. You did whatever you had to to survive which mostly meant being in and out of orphanages and running away whenever the next worthless schmuck tried to take advantage of you. You always got away by the skin of your teeth, and made money doing whatever you could. If it put food on the table, you’d have probably done it at least once.

It’s something of a cliche, but Dynamight was your idol. You liked that he wasn’t like other heroes. He was crass and hardcore and liked to talk shit. He was cool. You spent a lot of time hanging around T.V. stores watching him through the glass, watching interviews on your first hand-me-down phone. Even though he didn’t really have the tragic backstory, you always thought he was courageous and honest. 

A celebrity crush and idol combined, you stole more of his pin-up magazines than you’re entirely comfortable with. A lot of them you still own, shoved into the back of your closet. 

Once you’d turned 18, your life of petty crime had brought you all the way down to Osaka. It was also the worst year of your life. Social agencies seem to get off on tossing kids into the streets as soon as they can and with a criminal record like yours, there wasn’t a whole lot you could do. 

You spent the first 6 months knee deep in all sorts of shit. That’s when you ran into that biker gang for the first time. You hung around bars and slept with strangers for a place to sleep. A lot of bad shit happened and it wasn’t getting any easier. 

It was a cold, rainy day when you met Dynamight for the first time. The worst day of your life, more accurately. You got mugged and lost your job all in the same few hours and you were pretty sure god himself was spitting at your face. 

But it wasn’t all bad. Cheesy as it sounds, meeting your hero was worth the trouble. 

He was different off camera. That was the first thing you thought when you talked to him. He had a softer way of speaking and he was weirdly perceptive. He didn’t talk much, either - at least not at first. You spent a lot of time in comfortable silence. The first time, you didn’t do much more than share a meal. He asked you about your life. He gave you money for a hotel too. The only thing you could think to do was ask when you could see him again. 

He was 36 at the time. Hadn’t retired yet, either. 

That was the beginning of your long relationship. To this day, you don’t know why he decided to involve himself with you. It’s a mystery you’ve yet to get answers for and maybe you never will. Sure he was a hero, but you’re sure he’s seen a lot worse. Why take pity on you in particular? Whenever you ask him about it, he usually just scoffs. Sometimes he’ll tell you that you reminded him of someone. Who that person could be is lost on you even now.

It was a gradual relationship. You were young and persistent, but he never turned you away either. Sure he’d been a good influence, but stopping a life of crime wasn’t easy. You got arrested for some months after meeting. Bakugou took you in when you were 19 and homeless - let you stay with him. He retired at 37, opening up a bakery in Osaka. The place you’re staying in now is just over it. The same one you spent two years of your life falling in love with the old bastard. 

It was hard not too. You’d admired him for a long time, and he managed to supercede your low expectations. It wasn’t the first time you fell in love but it was definitely the strongest sensation. You tried to ignore it for a while but that didn’t work out for shit either. 

You confessed to him on your 20th birthday. Made a whole big deal with flowers and candles and shit. And again - it’s not like you were expecting romance out of the motherfucker. A flat-out rejection would’ve sufficed. 

But…that wasn’t what you got either. 

The whole reason for your fight wasn’t just because he didn’t have feelings for you. He made it a whole big fucking deal trying to tell you about your feelings. That you needed to get your shit together and grow up and that it was a phase that you’d grow out of. That he “really cares about you, kid” and that he’s just trying to do what was right by you as an adult. 

(“You’ve got no idea what the fuck I’m like either. Been through some tough shit and you latched onto me, alright? So don’t go wastin’ your time.”) 

You don’t really give a fuck about how old he is or about his status. None of it matters to you in the slightest. What was pissing you off all that time was him not taking you seriously after everything you’d been through together. Trying to tell you would fucking grow out of it and that it was a waste. You got into an argument after that, and like you’ve been doing your whole life - you ran away. Back to Shizuoka where you started to get your life together. 

Hit the books and studied your ass off, graduating late from a night school and then picking up a vocational school to fall back on. Some old connections got you a job in security and you bounced from place to place in the meanwhile. You even got your license and bought a beat-up cruiser that you fix-up when you have the chance. 

You grew up so to speak. You came back here trying to prove that. Being dismissed so fucking quickly makes you feel rage beyond reason so you’re trying to step back. Seriously, two fucking years and nothing. Not even a pity “I’m proud of you.” 

“Just admit it,” You sneer, inching closer to him “It’s not about any of that shit, is it?”

He widens his eyes as you stalk towards him.

“The fuck are you—“

“Don’t play stupid. You feel guilty, right? Feel all wound up cause you know it’s not nothing. This isn’t nothing”

This time he goes silent. Fucking bullseye.

“You thought I forgot? How you kissed me all tipsy? Thought I didn’t notice you looking?”

Oh it feels good to let it all out. He shrinks, this time unable to say anything. You both know it’s true. 

“Look—“ He puts hands on your shoulders as you back him into the wall “You’re too fucking young for all this. And about me, you don’t know—”

You lean into him, face inches apart. You already know what he’s gonna tell you, almost word for word. Trying to maintain some innocence you hardly have anything left of. 

“You sure? I heard you through those walls plenty of times. You take dick like a champ.” 

“Shut the hell up. This is for your own good, we can’t do this.”

You can hardly believe he’s still being like this. 

“I used to know you were home. When I brought people over,” You whisper low against his skin. His eyes widen “You heard me too, I’m sure. So, be honest Mr. Dynamight, you think I can’t give you what you want or are you too afraid to find out?”

“You’re such a fucking punk.” He grits out. Still not denying your words. 

“That’s right,” You muse, words heated and heavy “I’m a worthless street punk trying to fuck the old man upstairs ‘cause I don’t know any better.” 

It’s not the first time you’ve kissed Bakugou in your life. The first time was when you came over to his place tipsy. In front of all the other pro-heros you had admired so much. It’s different this time. Not only are you both shockingly sober, there’s an aggression in it that wouldn’t be there before. No matter how begrudging he acts, he’s still kissing you back just as hard as you’d expect him too. His lips are softer than you thought they’d be, arms wrapped around your neck. Fuck he’s still so huge. How much does he work out to still be this jacked?

You can’t even imagine how that’s gonna look when you finally get to fuck him. Shit, just thinking about it sends electricity through your spine. You groan a little into his mouth, your hands tucked on his nape and tugging at the fine hairs. You push your incisors into his lower lip and tug, pulling away just slightly to intake how fucking flushed he is.

 He looks like a pornstar,

You pull away, hand cupping his jaw and forcing his mouth open. You’re gonna lose it if you stare too long. 

“You’re so fucking sexy.” 

“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” He mumbles. You laugh lightly at him. 

“Your cocky attitude is pretty sexy too,” You hum, amused. You kiss him one more time, hands reaching for the thickest part of his waist. He’s built like a trunk, but his reactions are almost girlish. The contrast is making you twitch. 

“Can’t say the same for you.” He spits. Your grin splits your face as you pull away from him, teeth nipping at his jaw. You can feel the scruff of his skin, unshaved as you let your tongue travel over it. 

“Aw, what? You don’t think I’m sexy.” You nudge a knee between his legs feeling the half-hard outline of his cock. You shudder “You sure about that?” 

“What the hell are they feeding brats like you?” 

“Liquor and cigarettes.” 

“Since when do you smoke?” 

“Helps me relax after work,” You whisper against the shell of his ear, teeth tugging at the lobe before “I get pretty stressed out. Sure you know something about that.” 

“Hngh, fuck. Fuck you.” 

“Do you even know how? Not like that thing gets much use, huh?” 

You reach down to cup his cock through his jeans, hard against the palm of your hand. He pushes his hips up slightly, sharpened glare. He pants. 

“You sound, shit, so fucking sure.” 

“I am sure. I’m looking to fuck you, not the other way around. Not sure how that’s gonna work since I don’t got my stuff on me.” 

You’re not sure what you’re expecting him to say. This whole thing is feeling like a fever dream you can’t wake up out of. Maybe he’ll give you a suggestion on what else to do.. But instead of that, a blush crawls onto his face. It leaves you floored. He looks away from you. 

“...Your shits still where you left it.” 

It takes you a second to register what he means. When you do, you can feel your brows hit your fucking hairline. There’s no way he’s saying what you think he is. 

“You’re shitting me.” 

“Shut the fuck up. I thought you’d come to pick it back up but you never did, and I went to go move it into some boxes. I didn’t have any reason to toss it.” 

A thought crosses into your mind. 

“Hey. Old man. Where is it?” 

He stares at you. You grasp onto him firmer, making him gasp. You can feel how heavy his cock is in your hands, rubbing it through the cloth of his sweats. You whisper harsh into his ears. 

“If I open your goddamn drawer right now, tell me, am I gonna find my old strap in it? Clean and getting use? You been fucking yourself with the thing I used to lay dick with?” 

When he doesn’t answer, pure glee ignites in you. He can’t answer, apparently. But his face is a harsh, permanent red now and his cock is painfully hard. You want to rail him into the fucking floor just for that. You wouldn’t make up some shit like that in your wildest dreams, so the fact that he’s not denying it makes your insides feel like they’re melting. You rub yourself against him, feeling how slick and hard your clit is just thinking about it. 

“Go lay down.” 

“Are you telling me what to do?” 

You grab his ass as hard as you can before landing a hit on it that makes him nearly topple over. Even though he’s bigger than you in more ways than one, he reacts like that. His anger only lasts so long before it morphs into want. 

“Of course I am. And you’re gonna listen.” 

“What makes you so sure about that, huh? You think you can satisfy me?” 

“You think you’re gonna intimidate me into backing down? After knowing you fuck your tight little ass to the thought of me? Fat chance.” 

“I didn’t say anything like that.” 

You laugh “You implied it. Now go lay down. Where’s your lube?” 

He frowns at you. 

“In the same drawer.” 

You give him a knowing grin to which he shoves your face away. Ultimately though he listens to you, lying and making himself comfortable in the sheet as you grab whatevers in his little sex drawer. He wasn’t kidding about the strap, the lube seated next to it. You grab both quickly and join him, hovering over him. 

You opt not to talk, slowing your pace to appreciate the view. You think he’s says something. Asks about what you’re doing and why - but you tune the words out as you run your hands over the curves of his body. He’s a wall of fucking muscle, his arms especially with a torso just tight enough for you to grab. The fabric of his shirt doesn’t leave much for imagination, but you’re still overwhelmed as you pull it up over his waist, his chest, his arms. The fabric comes loose and it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. You’ve got plenty of porn mags in your back pocket and even more boudoir shoots from him that you’ve stared at for hours. 

But seeing it in person is completely different. You can see the rise and fall of his chest - the raised skin of a scar and plenty of over scratches and wounds. Fuck, he is so sexy and you are so drunk on lust you almost feel sick. 

“Somethin’ catch your eye?” 

His voice draws you out of the trance you're in, a lazy smirk spread on his face. You laugh. 

“I get why you’re such a show-off,” This time you lean forward to kiss him - a hand wrapped around his throat, spare going to grab his chest. His tits are soft, they look like hard muscle and sinew but the fat is squished in your palms to perfectly for that“Fuck.” 

“You’re acting like a horny teenager.” He says flatly.  

“Been thinking about fucking you that long, so I guess so.” 

“Are you serious?” 

“Why’re you so shocked?” You make work kissing down his neck slowly, down his chest, one tweaking his nipple while your mouth makes work on the other one He swears above you, another wave of heat pulsing in your body “Don’t you hear shit like that all the time?” 

“Shit that feels—I didn’t think you were, hngh—serious.” 

“Obviously not. I still have all your slutty ass photos in my apartment somewhere.” 

He pants. Makes the prettiest fucking sounds for you as you grope and squeeze and touch his body. You bite, hard, into his tits leaving a red mark of teeth that makes him shudder. You need to do it all over again. 

“Haah, fuck. What the fuck?” 

“You’re way sexier in person if that’s worth anything,” You groan, a shudder passing through you “Like way sexier.” 

He looks like he wants to say something to you but the words die in his mouth. You laugh as you peer over him. His reactions are fucking adorable. Face is hot with a flush, watery eyes. Pretty. As much he’s rugged and strong and downright handsome, he is annoyingly fucking pretty. Having him underneath you is making all the power go to your head. Nothing feels more appealing to you right now than the idea of wrecking him completely. 

You kiss down his body until you’re at his waist, taking his pants off unceremoniously. You have half a mind to rip them but you’re sure they’re expensive. He lifts his legs for you anyways, leaving a tight pair of boxers that leave nothing for the imagination at all. 

“What the fuck,” You mumble, getting face to face with it. You pull the boxers off slowly, kissing his hip as you do. His cock pops out slowly as you pull it down. What an asshole. His dick is impossibly big too. A tuft of well trimmed blonde hairs sit neat at the base and the tip is a harsh red. There’s a little drop of pre-cum dribbling down the shaft that makes your brain feel fuzzy. It’s veiny too, tight balls sitting net at the base. 

Another shiver wracks through you, as you reach your hand out to touch it tentatively. He groans sharply. You stick your tongue out, licking up from base to tip. He tastes of salt and skin, but it isn’t bad. You let your tongue lick at the slit, elated looking at him squirm underneath you. 

“Nice dick.” You say back plainly. He snorts. 

“Fuck off.” 

‘’m serious,” You add, letting your eyes lid to look more serious “I don’t blow just anyone.” 

You open your mouth wide, pulling lips over teeth as you ease the tip slowly. It’s hot. Hard as steel and intrusive against your tongue, you can feel it throb. Pulsing relentlessly, you lower yourself onto it slowly - taking as much in as you can. It’s difficult and messy, tongue out to cover as much as you can. You suction your mouth slowly, hollowing your cheeks. There’s something that feels so good about having him in your mouth, something even better about watching the faces of pleasure he makes above you. 

You hum in appreciation and the vibrations prove to be too much as he nearly thrusts his dick into your throat. You brace yourself for it happening again - setting an even pace. He looks good like that, drowned in pleasure and unsure of what to do with himself. You wonder if it’s been a while since he’s acting so fucking cute about it. You assume as much. 

What he said before, you wonder if he was picturing it. If he felt guilty about it. The idea of him jerking off in shame over the thought of his dick in your mouth makes your spine tingle. You cup his balls in your hand, squeezing gently as you get into a steady rhythm. You feel him above you trying to hold it all in, the muscles in his abdomen tightening each time you manage to get down further. It’s hard to breathe, the back of your throat feels narrow. Your skin is on fire. 

“Fuck, fuck—where’d you learn how to—fuck!” 

You feel him getting ready to cum, so you pull off swiftly. A delicious, needy whine comes out of his throat that leaves you mesmerized. 

“What the hell?” He mumbles, heaving. You laugh. 

“Hey,” You hum, lifting his hips until you can see his hole - pink and twitching “Every had someone eat your ass?” 

“Are you offering?” 

“Yeah.” You say back, kissing the insides of his thighs, gripping the muscle “I wanna know if it feels good for you.” 

For whatever reason, this statement in particular makes his skin tinge pink. You hold back a laugh internally. 

“So fucking weird.” 

“Is that a no?” 

“Do whatever you want.” 

You chuckle at that. You sink your teeth into him again, this time working on the build up. His muscles give tension to your incessant biting, hard bone against muscle as you mark up his thick thighs. His ass is nice like you’d expect, tight and muscular. You work your way towards his hole slowly, thumb circling the tight ring of muscle first to gauge his reaction. He shudders, making you hold back a laugh.

“Kinda sensitive,” You say amused. You can feel him glaring without having to look “You can’t cum without it now, right?” 

You’re mostly saying it in jest but the prolonged silence leaves you at a loss for words. Your eyes snap up at him, watching him huff and puff in embarrassment. Heat rolls through your body. 

“It’s not like I fucking can’t ever, alright?” 

“You’re too cute for your own good.” 

“Don’t fucking call me cute you shitty little brat.” 

“But you’re acting kinda adorable, old man,” You say slyly. You stick your tongue out, licking a long stripe against him. He shakes “Blushing up a fucking storm. Been a while?” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh, so it’s just ‘cause it’s me then?” 

He looks like a fucking cherry. You laugh. 

“To think you were so against it. How’d you hide your expressions that long? Did it help you to masturbate to the thought of me fucking you?” 

“Would you shut up?” 

“I don’t feel like it.” 

Before he can scold you any more, you let your tongue slip against the exposed rim. The reaction is tentative at first, slow licks trying to gauge if this is something he’s even into. You do it again and again, burying yourself deep. He makes a noise that you recognize to be a muffled moan. You groan in appreciation, repeating the action - letting yourself dip into the tightness of it. You can feel the muscles of his body go taut as you grip him - hands over the tops of his thighs. The action is more shameless the longer you let yourself indulge.

You’ll have to fuck him open anyways before you actually get on top. You think doing this much will make everything easier. Mostly you’re doing it because you like seeing him embarrassed. The gap in appearance vs expression never gets old. Seeing like this repeatedly proves to be novel and fuck knows if he’s gonna let you do it again any time soon. You’re more than determined to squeeze out every last ounce of his pride. 

You want to see everything. 

And frankly, pleasuring him like this is driving you all kinds of crazy. Not like you’ve ever been a selfish lover. Always aiming to please or whatever. But he’s got such a raw fucking sex appeal looking the way he does it’s making you drip. You’re pretty damn sure you’ve soaked through everything you have on and you’re not sure how much longer you’re gonna make it without touching yourself. 

It’s all material you’re committing to memory, either way. If anyone saw him like this, you’re pretty sure they’d fall head over heels just like you. It’s hard not to give him everything he’s ever wanted Not to want to fuck him within an inch of his life, just to see his big muscular frame curl in on itself. He’d look so good all messed up, all knotted with pleasure. 

You can feel it again this time, another wave of desire that makes his cock twitch. You wrap your finger around the shaft, holding it around his balls so he doesn’t cum without asking you. He lets out a noise of disapproval that you ignore, pulling your mouth away. Pre-cum dribbles out of tip. You use your finger to swipe it up and lick it. 

He looks scandalized. 

“Not bad. You eat clean huh.” 

“You’re going to kill me someday.” 

“You’re too young and too healthy to die.” 

He makes a face of disapproval at you. You toss him the lube before grabbing the strap. 

“Think you can work yourself open for me tough guy? Normally, I’d do it myself. Edge you out nice and slow, get you all soft. But I’m dying to fuck you already and I wanna make you cum on my cock.”

He looks at you exasperated. 

“Where’d you learn to talk like that?” 

“Casual sex and porn mags. You don’t like it?” 

“It makes you sound your age.” 

“Want me a little more suave? Tell you that I’m gonna make love to you?” 

He snorts. You take off your boxers and sit up on your knees as Bakugou opens the lube in his hands. You watch him idly, mostly focusing on wiggling yourself in the harness and making sure it’s comfortable enough to fuck in. 

He takes a deep breath, and you watch him reach between his legs. How it’s difficult since he’s so muscular. You almost want to help him, but instead you get between his legs again. Stood on your knees with a heavy bit of silicone weighing you down. You connect the tip to his, watching him push a finger in slowly. 

“Not if you say it like that.” 

“Having trouble there?” 

“You piece of shit.” 

“A worthless punk or something. C’mon, just say it. Ask me to finger your ass so I can fuck you. Or you want me to say something more delicate?” 

“Fuck, c’mon just, help me already.” 

“What’s the magic word?” 

“....Please, you worthless asshole.” 

You grin, grabbing the lube from the bed and squeezing it into your fingers. You laugh, leaning over him. 

“Got some manners left in you after everything, huh?”

You pull him down towards him by the waist, pulling his legs up. You kiss the inside of his knees, nudging his legs apart as you position your hands, warming the lube between your fingers. He’s surprised by your strength, but you don’t do anything but grin. 

“Keep your legs up for me, yeah?”

He scoffs but doesn’t go against your will. He looks good waiting for you like that, so you don’t take too much time trying to split him open. His hands are thicker than yours, so your first finger slides in like it’s nothing. He’s soft and hot on the inside, and the way he accommodates you lets you know this isn’t the first time he’s done this.

It doesn’t irritate you as much as you think it should. Maybe you’re a little screwed up to think it’s sexy but the idea of him getting fucked at any point is turn on. Once you’re down to the knuckle and you can pump in and out of him easily, you use a second finger to stretch him further. There’s more resistance so you slow, feeling up against his walls for the place you know it’ll feel good. 

You know you find it because his whole body tightens up in front of you. His eyes shoot open and he’s all breathy and fucked out. You relish in it. 

“Right there?” 

He must be feeling good with how little he’s combating you. 

“Y-yeah.” 

You lean forward to plant a kiss on him again but this time it’s tender. He must feel really good because he wraps his arms around your neck to keep you there. You moan in surprise and when you pull back he looks hazed out of his mind.

“Didn’t know you could make a face like that.” You say, amused. He frowns at you. 

“I’m not happy about it either.” 

A laugh falls out of you and you catch the faintest whisper of a smile on his lips that has you kissing the corners of his mouth. He catches himself before he leans into it too easily, but you notice before he can shy away. 

“Looks like I’m making your heart flutter. Forget the ethics for a little and let me.” 

“I should toss you out of a fucking window.” 

“You’re not gonna though.” 

This he doesn’t reply to. You slip a third finger while he’s distracted and he gasps. This time he’s almost stretched completely. You give him a minute to breathe, swallowing up the little sounds he makes with a hearty grin. It’s so fucking good just doing this. Incredible. Way better than you could’ve ever imagined. 

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you,” You say, bemused. He’s delirious enough to laugh. 

“The stamina of youths scares the hell outta me.” 

“I don’t wanna hear it from a retired pro.” 

This time he grins. You find yourself pleased with the development. 

He’s stretched now, and restless. You pull your hand away and rub the remaining slick onto the tip of your cock, giving him a look. 

“Do you know how you want me?” 

“It’s your fantasy fuck,” He says, semi-sarcastically “Do whatever you want.” 

You laugh, tapping his ass lightly. 

“Turn over and stick your ass up a little.” 

“Don’t wanna see my face?” 

“Wanna see how you swallow my cock up like it’s nothing, more like.” 

He curses under his breath. You feel accomplished. He turns over just like you’ve asked him too and fuck the sight of him is way too much. You can’t get over it. He’s big and strong and trembling with desire and it’s driving your sex-drive as high as it can possibly go. You move so your knees are on either side of his thighs. Leaning forward, you lick up from the small of his spine all the way up his shoulder, before sinking your teeth in the junction in between. 

He groans underneath you, and your hands make themself present around his hips. Most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The fucking arch and the scars and the ruggedness of all of it. 

“You’re damn gorgeous.” You say, with utter and sincere appreciation “It’s driving me fucking crazy.” 

“Save your smooth talk.” 

“I’m bein’ serious,” You say, pulling his ass apart with your palms “Like. Woah.” 

He snorts “Real poetic.” 

“I barely graduated school, asshat.” 

In the midst of your bantering, you let the tip of your cock slip into him slowly. It steals the words of reply out of his mouth in an instant. You can feel him melt underneath you. At the intrusion, at the feeling. At every single sensation. You feel the phantom of it in your spine. Like there’s fireworks in all your nerve-endings, just watching how his ass looks around it. Just the tip with no movement, no adjusting. 

He’s silent, shuddering - holding onto a pillow. A bead of sweat rolls down his spine. He has little dimples in his back. You groan. 

“Shit. Look at you.” 

The praise seems to make him keen. He’s always been one to like the attention. You roll your hips, fucking another inch into him agonizingly slow. He moans like he’s deflating, breathing ragged and voice raw. You rock back and forth until there’s no longer anything to resist, then push in and in and in. 

Once you bottom out with his ass against your pelvis and your hips on the back of his thighs, you lean forward and press your weight on top of him. You think he’s expecting something else, because he seems surprised. But you let yourself weigh upon him, then with a heavy grunt - cup his jaw and tilt his head to kiss him. 

“You like that?” 

“Shut up.” 

“C’mon. Be honest. You look like you like it. Ears turning so red.” 

He groans. 

“In your fucking dreams.” 

“Still not gonna budge huh?” You say. anchoring yourself at his sides with a deep sigh “So stubborn.” 

When you feel stable enough to move, you don’t hesitate to fuck him with all of the expertise you have. You give it to him in just the right way, measure up to where he needs you but don’t give in quite enough. It’s a strenuous affair but you keep it at. A steady pace that’s hard and deep but not good enough to make him cum. Something to leave him on the edge, you fuck him just like that. The sound of skin hitting skin and short, broken moans echo in the room. 

You focus on taking him like that, making sure each and every thrust is precise and calculated until he gets where you want him to be. You can practically feel when it’s starting to really get to him. When he can no longer hold himself up, so resigns to smushing his face against the pillow and going limp. You lean up, moving so you can pull his hips back with you - hovering off the bed on his knees instead of laying on his stomach. 

This time you reach deeper. His whining gets louder, more in tune with everything. You laugh as you reach around him, hands gripping at the base of his cock. It takes patience to unravel him like this, matching your hands to your movements until everything is in a slow, steady synchronization. Fast but not fast enough. Hard, but not hard enough. Close but not close enough. 

He lets out a heady groan that reverberates in his chest, opening his mouth finally. 

“C-c’mon. Just. C’mon.” 

“Aw what?” You say, rolling your hips up against him, where you know he wants you most “What is it, hm? Did you want something?” 

“Fuck. Just. Fuck me already.” 

“I am fucking you, though?” 

“You know what I mean!” 

“Oh, you want me to fuck you harder? Make you cum? I thought you didn’t like it.” 

He groans, dropping against the pillows again. 

“I didn’t say that. C’mon just. Please.” 

His voice is hoarse when he asks. You laugh against his shoulders, listening to his requests. Giving it to him how he needs it. Harder and a little deeper, you can feel it now. How you knock into the place inside him that leaves him trembling and shaking. You can read his cues now, when he starts getting close. But of course it’s not gonna be that easy. 

You keep the pace stand, putting your hand on the tip of his cock. You rub your thumb over the slit and hold it there. He sucks in a breath, whining a little. 

“Wanna cum so bad?” You offer, mouth twisted in a feral grin “Tell me you love me.” 

This knocks the wind out of him. 

“What?” 

“Say you love me with all your heart and I’ll let you cum.” 

“You’ve got to be fucking with me.” 

You fuck into him hard right where he needs you. He moans. 

“Nah. My fantasy fuck, remember? Right now, we’re playing love birds.’ Like’ works too, I guess. If you’re too scared,” You half-way mock, starting a pace now that borders cruel “Now say it nice and sweet and I’ll let you cum.” 

“You’re such a—agh, fuck,” He shudders against the bedsheets, repeating himself as you pound him. It’s easy to piston your hips. He’s so sensitive to begin with that it doesn’t take much “You’re insane.” 

“C’mon, old man. Confess your feelings to me like we’re sweethearts.” 

“In your dr—oh, shit.” 

“What was’at? Did you wanna say something?” 

You can practically feel him turn it over in his head. You’re mostly doing it to mess with him. Punishment for all of his beating around the bush and bullshitting. Getting to fuck him has been more than enough. 

So you’re not expecting him to stop you. To turn over flat on his back and lay with his legs spread and wrap his arms around your waist and stare at you through hazy, flushed eyes. This time you’re really looking at him. At the lines on his face and the scruff and an expression torn with time and desire and lust. Your heart nearly falls out of your fucking ass when he wraps his arms around your neck, palming your nape and pushing your foreheads together. 

When you’re nose to nose, he looks very serious all of a sudden. You swallow something in your throat, unsure of what else to do. 

“Gonna say this one fucking time, only. So listen up cause I’m not gonna repeat myself.” 

He’s got to be fucking with you. 

“Love you..I love you or whatever.  But that doesn’t mean—” 

Before he can finish his sentence, you put your hands up under his knees and fuck him for all you’ve got. Half-way as revenge for the shitty confession and half-way because if you think too long about what he’s saying you’re pretty sure you’re going to collapse. 

He sounds good under you, as you fist his cock and laugh in absolute fucking delight. You stare at him hard. At his fucked out expression. You’re gonna cuss him out as soon as this shit is over, you swear. What an asshole. 

“O-oh, oh fuck, I’m gonna, g-gonna cum.” 

You goad him cause you aren’t sure what else you should do at this point. 

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock? Show it to me. Let me see what you look like.” 

The words are enough to push him over the edge. He gets unraveled right before your eyes, his whole body pulled like a bow before losing all the tension. You can feel his cock twitching hotly in your palms. Thick strings of white covering your fingers as you fuck him through it. He sounds so perfect like that, so fucking good for you. You can feel your whole body ready to give out just watching. 

When Bakugou finally finishes, he releases you from his grip. You pull out only seconds after, staring at his flushed state in wide-eyed disbelief. 

“Were you serious?” You ask, because it’s the only thing you can think to ask. He sighs, tired. 

“Yeah.” 

Where the hell is this dudes class? 

“Fuck.” 

He laughs, laid down before poking his head back up to stare at you. 

“You didn’t cum yet.” It’s more of a statement than a question. You shake your head. 

“Not yet. I can take care of it.” 

He clicks his teeth.

“No way. Come ‘ere.” 

You undo the harness of your strap before crawling over to where he’s laid. You end up standing on your knees. He props himself up on his elbows, and you look down at him absolutely mesmerized. He crinkles his nose at you. 

“That fucking lovesick look on your face is gross.” 

“Been like this for four years.” 

He flushes. 

You stand in front of him, bare on your knees. He reaches forward, brushing the hair over the hood of your clit gently.

“You’re so wet.” He murmurs. You laugh. 

“Yeah, no shit.” You say, too tired to do much arguing “Lemme borrow your mouth,” 

He snorts “Got it.” 

You fist your hands into his hair and tug, bringing his open mouth to your clit with a sigh. Your cunts sort from being pushed into and neglected. Even the barest brush of his mouth is making you shiver. Bakugou must know a little something about this, because he latches onto you without thinking twice. The sudden added pressure has heat building your stomach at the speed of light. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so on edge in such a short period of time. 

Plus looking down at him while you hump against his face is enthralling. 

“You’d make a cute little wife, old man,” You say thoughtfully, dull pleasure aching as you tuf his hair at the root “You can cook, clean, bake and you know how to use your mouth fucking perfectly.” 

He gives you a look of exasperation, but the warmth down his neck tells you he likes it. You laugh, throwing your head back. The visible sight of arousal flowing down his chin and making his face messy is making you more horny than you know what to do with. You don’t have the energy to cum more than once but you’re sure when you wake you you’re gonna be horny all over again. 

You try not to think too hard about it as you feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter before unraveling all at once. Your insides are hotter than lava, the entire lower half convulsing as the strength in your thighs and legs gets lost gradually. Bakugou sucks until you’re nearly overstimulated, and you have to pull him away before it really gets to be too much for you. 

“You taste good.” He says thoughtfully. You laugh. 

“Got plenty more if you want it.” 

“We should clean up.” 

“You’re not kicking me out?” 

“I’m not a villain, damn it.” 

“You feel like one for that loser ass confession, but I’ll let it slide. I need a fucking nap though. Getting my ass kicked and having incredible sex in the same day is exhausting.” 

He laughs as you lay down besides him, sitting up. Even in your half exhausted state, you catch the feeling of his lips on your forehead. 

“Get some rest you brat.” 

__ 

You wake up in a familiar bed. 

If the sore feeling of laying pipe wasn’t in your hips, you’re pretty damn sure you just woke up out of a dream. What the fuck just happened to you? Your back and body is sore, but you’re clean like you’ve been wiped down. You’re stark naked though. 

The idea that he could give you a wipe but not dress you makes you laugh. When you sit up, all of your clothes are sitting still on a chair. There’s some new clothes on top of them though, his clothes. You stand to your feet, your back cracking as loud as possible as you examine the wounds. You have some hickies now (when the hell did he leave those) and when you turn there’s some scratches on your back. You feel self-satisfaction as you get dressed. You should hit the showers when you feel less lethargic. 

When you’ve reconciled with the fact you didn’t just conjure up what happened a few hours ago, you trek back into the living room. You find Bakugou where you expect him, bent over the stove making dinner. You lean on the frame of the door with a grin before walking over to him. 

You don’t hesitate in sliding your hands on his waist under his tank top. Better, he doesn’t react like you’ve shot him dead. A laugh blooms in your chest. 

“Morning grandpa.” 

“You fucking—if you don’t sit down.” 

You snort, but sit yourself down at the counter like you did a few hours ago. 

“Whatcha making for dinner.” 

“Grilled fish and rice. There’s sides.” 

“Sounds healthy.” 

His ears turn red. 

‘“You have work tomorrow but you need to recover.” 

You couldn’t smile more if you fucking tried. 

“We gonna talk about what just happened,” You ask, pouring yourself a glass of water as you sit down. You take a long sip “Or are you gonna pretend to keep washing rice?” 

He sighs, putting down the dry rice and the cup to measure. He almost looks furious, but he’s too cute for it to mean anything to you. You grin. 

“Hey. Fucking. Look. Alright. You’re way too fucking young. I’m old enough to be your father a-and you only just barely got your life together, so yes I told you whatever I told you. But no fucking funny business until you’re at least 25 and your brain is developed more than a peanut.” 

You nod.. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kinda a coward old man?” You say thoughtfully. He looks pissed again but it’s too funny for you to care “What’s funny business? Sex? Cause if it is, I’ve got bad news.” 

“We just. We have to be careful.” 

“So I can kiss, hug, fuck you in private but keep it outta the press?” 

He stares at you, scratching his neck. “Yeah. Basically.” 

You give him a thumbs up, grabbing a snack off the tray on his table. Chips, the fancy kind. They’re good. 

“Got it. Can I stay over? I don’t feel like driving down to my hotel this late.” 

“....You’re not pissed?” 

You laugh. 

“Are you kidding? I wasn’t mad the first time cause you rejected me, I was mad cause you were acting all fucking ethical and holier-than-thou. I figured it was gonna be something like that anyway. And I’m not much of a romantic, so dates and shit are whatever to me,” 

“Forreal?” 

“Yeah. Having sex and staying over to hang out for a while is cool. It was your fat head worrying about it, not mine. Did Mr. Deku managed to talk you out of your crisis while I was asleep?” 

He gives you a look. Bullseye again. 

“You two keep in touch?” 

“He’s a good dude and he buys me a meal when I’m short on change. Jealous?” 

He turns away from you before answering. His ears are burning. You feel your heart squeeze. 

What shit taste you’ve got being head over heels for this old bastard, you wonder. 

“Just shut up and eat your chips.” 

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say.”

[their80smichelle]

Hiii I got a request! Orginally I had this idea down even wrote it on my masterlist but just wasnt working out after I tried to rewrite it.

Anyways, they chilling at his place and Dave Mustaine teach reader French (it's okay if u dont use french words lol) after hearing his recent song A Toute Le Monde, she wanted to learn as well. Feel free to do whatever lol 🙏

look at him go

a/n: Hiii! I. love. It. As a first request it’s really cool.🔥🩷

Sorry it’s long I was inspired- hope it’s okay and not too bad and that I respected your request (I feel like I rushed it at the end) (I'm always scared to post stuffs I write.)

Of course I used French words cause… I am French🤧

Time to tell you French is absolutely not sexy when YOU ARE French💀(I made myself giggle while writing this request though.)

🥖🇫🇷Also, Dave said the lyrics meant “to the entier world, to all my friends, I love you, I must go.”

But I would have translated it as “to everyone, to all my friends, I love you, I have to go.” Cause “to the entier world” in French it’s “Au monde entier.” There’s not a big difference but it’s still different. And for “je dois partir” it means you HAVE TO. But again, there’s no big difference.

Warnings: grammar obviously, French, fluff, is it cheesy? It definitely is, cliché lol

Anyway, hope you’re going to enjoy it!! 🩷

You and Dave were at his place chilling, eating popcorn and watching TV. You were sat on the couch and Dave was on a chair checking a magazine.

Megadeth just released their new song “A Tout Le Monde” and you already love it. But since the title and some lyrics were not in English you were wondering what it meant and why he wrote it in another language.

“Hey Dave…” he looks at me and smile, “Hey you…”

“Can I ask you a question about your song?” You ask turning your head toward him. “Sure, which one?”

“Hmmmm…” You hum and narrow your eyes unsure on how to pronounce it. You could see his smirk forming on his face. “The last one.” You speak. At least you were sure to not mispronounce it. Dave nods and looks at you, that little smirk still painted on his face. “The last one?”

“Ah no. Don’t make me pronounce it.” I tell him amused “Aw too bad... I can’t answer your question if I don’t know what song you’re talking about love…” Is that ginger mocking you or daring you??

“Aw… too bad for you too… for once someone was caring about your music.” You obviously didn’t mean that. You just returned it against him…

He opened his mouth wide and scoffed. Dave almost laughed but he quickly took a serious face and narrowed his eyes looking directly at you.

“Say it.” You narrow your eyes too “No.”

“Yeah, say it.”

“Nah.”

“C’mon say it!”

“Nuh uuuuh”

Dave looks at you and purse his lips “Hmm.” You mimic him and purse your lips too.

He wasn’t going to answer your question. You raise your eyebrows.

“Well. Okay.” He smirks again as you say it. “You’re evil. What’s the name again?” You feign not remembering it… but he’s not stupid so you roll your eyes.

“Hmmm, aaaa… tu- touuut, le… monde.” You say with an accent. Dave raises his hands in the air “Yeaaah”, but he laughs. You grimace “Hey don’t mock me.”

“Okay okay...” he stops his laugh and looks at you again “So what was that question?”

“Ah! Why the title and some lyrics are in French or whatever is that damn language?” he smiles. At least it’s a good question. “We just wanted to try something, and we tried in a lot of different language. We had Spanish and French, but French is the one that sounded better, and that was probably easier to sing.”

“Ah yeah cause French is easy…”

“That’s not what I said. And I have French ancestors anyway.”

You smile at this information. That’s actually a fire sentence to say.

“Sooo what does the lyrics mean in English?”

French is supposed to be a sexy language. Not that he’s not already sexy but he could be even more…

“Well, the title is in the lyrics… A tout le monde, à tout mes amis, je vous aimes, je dois partir. It simply means to the entier world, to all my friends, I love you, I must go.” He explains to you.

You were listening carefully to understand the meaning “I don’t know how… to explain that but, it’s simple words but deep lyrics.” He smiles again at your kind of compliment.

“Hey, do you know something else in French??” You happily ask curious. Not that You wanted to learn French, but it was still interesting.

He shrugs “Huh… I’m not fluent but I know some basics yeah. Why?” You look up and smile. “What?” he laughs (cutely. help). You shrug and purse your lips to hold your smile “Teach me French.”

He laughs again “Like what? I only know- “

“-Everything you know.”

He gets up and walk toward you. “Well, I know, bonjour…” he looks at you giggling at his accent “I know… Je m’appelle Dave…” You giggle and look at him in the eyes as he sat beside you. He looks at you too “salut…”

“Salut…” You repeat in a whisper. You couldn’t help the smile on your face.

“Tu es magnifique…” He says with a warm voice. You laugh again trying to hide you red cheeks. He laughs too “Why are you blushing? You don’t even understand!”

He takes a flirty face and raise his eyebrows up and down “Am I sexy?” it made you laugh even more. Is French funny or is it him being sexy? No. You’re not answering to that.

“Maybe! But out of all of this, what can I learn ??” He thinks about it for a second. “Hm. I know some curses too.”

“Dave! C’mon!” You slap his arm slightly “What?? You want to learn French to make me blush too??” He complains more amused than offended.

“HE- No?” You stop and say innocently “Sure… Okay repeat after me. Je, m’appelle.”

You repeat words after words, and you actually find it easy. He learned you how to say your name, your age, your gender, where you live.

“Stop laughing! How do you even pronounce that!”

“Aujourd’hui, je visite New York. Today I visit New York. Come on!”

You try to mouth the words as he says it. Yeah, well okay maybe French is hard. You then say the sentence Dave told you.

“No don’t say New York with an accent. French don’t do that…” You laugh a bit surprised “Why are they so complicated with their useless muted letters and their apostrophes?”

That French lesson ended with you not being able to pronounce anything anymore and Dave laughing at you trying to pronounce “Écureuil” because he thought it would be fun to teach you that word.

You both were now laying on the couch watching TV again your head on his shoulder and his head on yours.

“You know you can still try to learn curses… it’s easier…”

[sparring-spirals]

I need to yell about fcg and *specifically* this great post that you wrote ( https://www.tumblr.com/sparring-spirals/747570433506902016/okay-after-some-sleep-back-on-my-bullshit-lets ) because it made me realize that I really, truly hope Laura will remember she took off her circlet moments before the bang and Imogen had the chance to hear that fcg was at peace with this decision, not because they were trying to be a martyr, but because they had a true chance to save their friends, knowing full well that detonating *would* be a sacrifice because their life *did* matter.

(I hope sending asks is okay, sorry to barge in like this)

Ahw, hell yeah, glad the post hit hard, recontextualizing it in my head helped a lot with chewing through my feelings about. All of this. I'm always okay with asks!! As long as folks are aware I am not necessarily going to agree with every ask that comes in, and more critically, sometimes I disappear off the face of the Earth for a while, dont answer asks, and then feel too embarassed about answering them so much later/get asks about something I didnt watch, go "ah ill answer when i watch it" and then. Well.

(To the various people who sent the total 12 asks that have been sitting in my box for over a year now. I am. So sorry.)

Honestly, I didnt even think about the possibility that Imogen might have heard it, goddamn. Fascinating. I was fully bracing myself for Bell's Hells just- never knowing, and them having to grapple with it. Which. Takes me out at the knees, tbh. I hesitate to speculate on it too much when the episode is going to come out Thursday and probably prove me wrong, but. God, there's no world where the Bell's Hells would instinctively know that F.C.G had made the call with that attitude, and fuck, that puts all of it into a different light, clearly.

I'm a little apprehensive and tbh deeply curious to see how the Bell's Hells take this- the depth of the loss, the sudden nature of it, the victory against Otohan probably not even feeling that way. Maybe wanting to honor F.C.G's sacrifice but. Probably. And understandably. Angry at them for making that call, but he's not. Even there for them to be angry at. So what then? So what then? They can have all these feelings and have all these questions about why he did it, about what he was thinking, and he's not there to answer them, and that's the issue.

If Imogen did hear his last thoughts, this elevates it into a different kind of heartbreaking, but probably still easier overall. The world where they don't know. Is. A more tricky one to navigate, for sure.

But also if I'm being honest. I am not opposed to how the cast would have the Bell's Hells experience and explore that scenario. So i mean. I mean. I hope so too. But if Imogen didnt. Consider me buckled in for whatever happens.

[the-pea-and-the-sun]

okay uhh as a silence of the lambs fan i have some stuff to say abt silence of the lambs and red dragon (the book that silence of the lambs is a sequel to). this is specifically abt the books and not the movies because although the movie also has a "btw this author is not transphobic" disclaimer a lot of it was cut for the movie and when you look at the stuff in the book its more obvious why that disclaimer doesnt wash harris' hands of any transphobia that the story perpetuates. i read my library's copies of the books a couple times but dont have them with me so this is jus from my memory of how they went so. sorry if i get stuff wrong i jus kinda wanted to get these thoughts out. if you happen to have the book handy feel free to correct me on any details i get wrong

obviously buffalo bill is a grotesque transphobic caricature. you can tell that it occurred to thomas harris while writing that he came up with the idea of "evil serial killer skins women because he wants to become one!!" first and then after doing some basic research on transsexualism thought "ah some ppl might come away from this thinking (that i think) that all transsexuals are perverted monsters" and decided to remedy this by adding a psychiatrist character who works at a trans clinic and is a staunch protector of the rights and privacy of his patients. this gets in the way of jack crawford's investigation, who after being a complicated character in red dragon is now almost a one dimensional hero character. the psychiatrist and crawford eventually compromise on the basis that buffalo bill isn't a real transsexual (because if he was, than that would make transsexuals look bad). the reasoning (according to both harris and the psychiatrist character) that buffalo bill isn't a real transsexual is because he was denied treatment. if i remember correctly the reason buffalo bill was denied treatment was because he had a criminal record (?) but whatever the reason we're obviously meant to side with the point of compromise that crawford and the psychiatrist come to, that real transsexuals are "harmless and passive" people we should have compassion for and shouldnt be afraid of, and fake transsexuals are perverted monsters, and we can trust psychiatrist to differentiate real transsexuals from fake transsexuals.

this is the most sympathetic possible stance on transgender people that someone could take from silence of the lambs. but in reality, obviously a lot of people are not going to go out of their way to find out that thomas harris said that buffalo bill wasn't a "real transsexual", and are just going to come away from the story thinking that the psychiatrist was just a bureaucratic nuisance to our hero jack crawford whos trying to stop the crazed evil transsexual. since buffalo bill is the only person resembling a trans person that we see, thats the version people are going to remember. if clarice starling was transgender too, for example, itd be a lot easier to defend the idea that harris' writing isn't perpetuating transphobia because the audience would be sympathetic toward clarice starling, and since so much of a story with clarice starling as a cis woman is focused on her struggling against misogyny within the fbi, making her a trans woman would've made this a story about her struggling against transmisogyny, and that wouldve been the primary view of trans women that the audience would've walked away with: as hardworkers, as heroines and protagonists, and as victims of systemic misogyny. the "positive" view of transsexuals as "harmless and passive" would've gone along with the conflict that clarice starling already deals with, that shes weak and passive and incapable of doing her job at best, and dangerous and harmful at worst.

i dont want a silence of the lambs remake where clarice starling is transgender, i'm just saying that when you compare it to red dragon (the book where will graham is the detective), it actually becomes very telling that she isnt. in red dragon, the killer is written with a lot more sympathy than buffalo bill is written with in silence of the lambs, and instead of (not) being a transsexual, the killer in red dragon has a facial deformity. we hear about his childhood, how his mother abandoned him because of his deformity, how he was an continues to be mistreated by others. there's even a point in the story where the audience is rooting for him to reform, as he's actively fighting against the part of himself that wants to hurt people. he becomes ashamed of this part of himself and tries to repress it, but is ultimately unsuccessful.

this is all to say that my idea that silence of the lambs wouldn't have been such an egregious example of media perpetuating transphobic attitudes if clarice starling was transgender (and if buffalo bill was portrayed more sympathetically like the killer in red dragon) doesnt come from nowhere. because by the end of red dragon, will graham now has an acquired facial deformity. in red dragon, we're made to believe that a major reason if not the only reason the killer became who he is is because of society's mistreatment of people who have facial deformities. the depiction isn't perfect, but i think that there's almost no chance a person would come away from red dragon thinking that people with facial deformities are dangerous monsters. we've seen them as victims of bullying, as victims of child abuse, as people capable of falling in love, and, by the end, as our hero and protagonist who we've been rooting for for the entire duration of the story.

from red dragon to silence of the lambs we can see thomas harris have less sympathy to minorities who are made into villains by society, and more sympathy for the cops that arrest them. silence of the lambs just comes with the added lukewarm feminist take of "hey look! those cops can be women, too!". in red dragon, the police end up having zero net positive impact on the case whatsoever. we're looking at the story through the eyes of will graham, but he's explicity not fbi, and his precense in the story is him explcitiy being mistreated by the fbi to further jack crawford's means. will graham is there because crawford has managed to convince him that if he doesn't cooporate with the police, he'll be letting people die, but by the end of the story, the only thing will graham's presence in the fbi has contributed is the death of a reporter, and the endangering of will graham and his family. the difference in portrayal of the police in red dragon compared to silence of the lambs is stark. in silence of the lambs, the police do save people, but those who are uncooperative with the police almost prevent them from doing so. in silence of the lambs our pov detective is a policewoman, in red dragon our detective is a victim of the police, struggling with mental and physical health issues as a result of his time with them.

there's also something to be said about how the books only get worse in quality and more hateful of minorities and more in favor of cops from there, but i think thats kinda all i wanna say for now

[pastanest]

if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @iamburdened - thanks so much!! ♡

Daryl Dixon x gender neutral!reader

spoilers: set in season 6

Welcome Home

“Okay, so, fun fact! For as long as I can remember, I’ve never been able to sleep without a blanket of some kind over me. I dont know whether it’s a comfort thing, or a safety thing, but I cannot get comfortable without a blanket.” You told Daryl as you skipped along the train tracks beside him.

The two of you were on a run together, Rick had asked you to go with Daryl because he’s been itching to get out of Alexandria since the moment the group arrived there, he just needed to be outside for a while. Being the most optimistic person in the group and the easiest to talk to made you the most likely candidate for not only going with Daryl, but wanting to. You considered yourself friends with everyone in the group, but by no means were you and Daryl close, at all. He didnt like to talk about himself, so you figured you’d start a conversation with him about yourself to make it easier on him. You were good at that.

“You get cold or sum’?” Daryl questioned your reason for needing a blanket. He wasnt looking at you, choosing to keep his eyes on the trees at either side of the tracks. When he nodded towards a clearing in the trees, the two of you headed into the forest.

“It definitely isnt that, more often than not Im too hot with a blanket on me, but I still cant sleep without one. Guess that childhood belief that the cover would keep me safe from the shadows never left me!” You laughed at yourself, and Daryl scoffed.

You knew he wasnt exactly enthralled by the conversation topic, but lighthearted things were one way of getting a degree of response out of him. As long as you werent prying for information about him, he was open to a little talking.

“Oh! And another thing! Ever since I was a kid, I have dreamed of having a cape!” You blurted out another random fact about yourself, and Daryl let out another scoff-laugh. That time, he couldnt resist looking over his shoulder at you quizzically.

“Okay, I’ll bite. Why’d ya want a cape?” He asked.

You beamed at him. “Well, a hooded cape is essential for any wizard in disguise!” And with expert timing, you winked at him and bolted into the first empty shack you’d found since leaving Alexandria.

“Ay! Wait up!” Daryl called, running after you, while you laughed ahead of him.

Roughly six months have passed since that pivotal interaction between you and the sweetheart redneck, and the two of you have been close friends ever since. He finally realised that you being able to make conversation with anyone, didnt exclude him. You were his preferred run partner, and you chose to spend a lot of time with him, because you found him very interesting. He’d never initiate hanging out with you, obviously, so it was up to you to find him and start a conversation about whatever crossed your mind. Daryl never felt more relaxed than when you started talking about the most random shit.

“Hey, you down for another run?” Daryl asks as he jogs up to where you are sitting, counting bees on the flowers by your front porch steps.

You jump to your feet and dramatically swoon. “Oh, Daryl Dixon, I thought you’d never ask!” He rolls his eyes at you, and you laugh. “Gimme a minute to pack, I’ll meet you at the gate!”

Even if the run doesnt ask for it, the two of you always prefer to find a place to hang your hats for the night. It’s a nice break from everything and everyone. Despite loving the people around you, you have a high appreciation for the comfort of your own company, and Daryl’s.

“Ah, home sweet home!” You breathe as the two of you step into an abandoned house that you’ve never been in before. It was a tradition of yours to refer to every place you found as home, because the building doesnt matter, the feeling of home can be felt almost anywhere to you.

The two of you set the house up, blocking exits and barricading yourself in a second floor bedroom, right by a window. It was unlikely that you were going to be seen, and you had taught Daryl something very valuable: by barricading yourself into a room, you will definitely hear if someone tries to get in, as a result of the noise caused by trying to break through whatever you use to barricade the door. By having a barricade, the two of you can sleep at the same time, nobody has to keep watch. It took Daryl several runs to believe it, but now when he’s out with you he doesnt even think twice about it.

The two of you flop down on the floor, either side of the window, and Daryl starts digging in his bag. He pulls a blanket out and passes it to you, something he‘s made an effort to bring for you every time you go out on a run together. You smile at him and reach into your own bag, pulling out your own blanket, and the two of you swap, laughing at each other and the inside joke. You bring your own blanket, and Daryl brings one for you, so you always end up swapping them to accept Daryl’s gift, and even though you know he always brings one, you still always bring yours, to give to him.

Staring out at the night sky, you sigh. “I really dont know how I’d feel if the world went back to how it was. Everything would be so...loud.” You meet his eyes. “Is it wrong to prefer the world the way it is now, at least a little?”

Daryl shakes his head. “Naw, ‘s not wrong. Yer makin’ the best of what ya’ve got, and right now we’ve got it pretty damn good.”

You smile at him. “If the world went back to how it was, we wouldnt be able to hang out like this, we’d have to get jobs!”

Daryl scoffs, shaking his head and looking out of the window. “Naw, I’d still be out there.”

You giggle. “Running from taxes, stickin’ it to the man!”

Daryl chuckles at you. “Damn right.”

You rest your head against the window frame. “I mean, we’ve got a weird mix of the before in our lives now. We’ve got houses, a neighbourhood. It’s kinda the best of both worlds.”

Daryl nods, and you know exactly what he’s thinking.

“You dont like it, you arent used to it, and I get that. Houses have never felt like home to you, and that isnt your fault. You arent the odd man out, Daryl.” You take ahold of his hand, and his eyes lock onto yours as you continue. “But home isnt about the houses, you know that, and soon you’ll figure out what home means to you. You’ve just gotta open your heart to the world a little, and let yourself see what you dont want to believe is there.”

Daryl shakes his head. “Naw, I know what ma home is.” He squeezes your hand, but lets go so quickly and starts digging through his bag again, you wonder if he even meant to squeeze your hand. Before you can ask him what home is to him, Daryl is holding out a folded blanket-type thing to you.

You frown at him. “What’s this?”

Daryl gestures to you to take it. “Fer you.”

You smile at him, still frowning in confusion as you take the gift from him in the dark. Unfolding it, you gasp. Immediately springing to your feet, you wrap it around yourself and squeal excitedly, before turning back to Daryl, who’s still sitting on the floor, staring up at you.

“Oh, Daryl, it’s wonderful!” Your eyes are misty with tears as you pull the hood of the cape over your head, collapsing into Daryl to give him the weirdest standing-to-sitting hug imaginable, but it’s easily the best hug he’s ever had.

Last week, Daryl went on a run without you, he gave you strict orders not to go with him, he was very stern about it. You sulked when he got back and he had to put on a stupid accent to make you laugh so you’d talk to him again. He refused to tell you why he’d gone on a run without you, and eventually you stopped prying because he’s just too good at keeping things to himself. Now, you know why.

“Thank you, so much!” You sniffle into his neck, and Daryl rubs your back.

“No need t’ thank me, ‘s essential fer a wizard in disguise, y’know.” He replies, and you both laugh. You cant believe he remembered your exact words, your childhood dream.

You fall back onto the floor beside him, but this time the window isnt between you, you’re shoulder to shoulder. Except your hooded head is now resting on his shoulder.

“I hope you realise that I am never going to take this off. Im going to sleep in it, eat in it, shower in it. Oh yeah, you can bet your sweet ass I will wear nothing but this cape in the shower.” You tell him, and Daryl chuckles, but you can tell that your mention of you wearing nothing has flustered him.

“What did you mean earlier, when you said you know what your home is?” You ask him, having your hopes up for what the answer is, but still wanting to hear him say it.

“You know what I meant.” Daryl replies, his voice quiet, by serious.

You nod against his shoulder, staying quiet for a moment before you speak up again. “You never asked.”

Daryl sits up straighter, thinking he’s done something wrong. “Asked what?”

You lift your head from his shoulder and look at him. “Why I call every place home.”

Daryl’s eyes are burning into yours, searching for an answer that he hasnt even asked for, he cant find the words.

You smile at him. “It’s because wherever I go, I’ve got the human embodiment of home right by my side. Sometimes he isnt next to me, but he’s always nearby. And as long as he’s there, I’ve never felt safer; I’ve never felt more protective of anyone, because if anything threatened the safety of my home...I dont know what I’d do. He’s the best thing to ever happen to me, and there isnt a damn thing I wouldnt do to make him smile.” Pouring your heart out to him ignites feelings in him like no other, every word you say sinks into Daryl so slowly, he knows he’ll never forget a single one.

“Wha’s his name?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper now, the two of you already leaning in.

You bite your lip, your eyes darting from his to his lips. “Oh, I think you know.”

One of Daryl’s hands reaches inside your hood, around the side of your neck, his fingers sliding through your hair and pulling your lips to his impatiently, but not roughly. When your lips meet his, Daryl feels his chest erupt, his mind finally understanding the ‘fireworks’ feeling he’d heard so much about in the movies. Your own hand wraps around his wrist, and you lean back until you’re fully lying on the floor, Daryl’s lips never daring to leave yours as he effortlessly falls over you, holding himself up with his other arm. He parts from you briefly, and you’re instantly leaning up to place kisses all over his face.

“Welcome home.” Daryl’s voice rumbles before the gravitational pull of your lips pulls him back to exactly where he needs to be, where he belongs. Home, too.

[sign-anon]

s-sign?

is-

is it really you?

-origami anon [not me doin an anon ask on my own blog nooooo what]

[mod note: sign will be in orange and origami will be in blue to make this easier on anyone interested in keeping up with this]

[long ass dialogue story under the cut. youve been warned]

o-origami? i- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!

i- i came looking for you! you just... disappeared with any trace, any warning, not even a goodbye! i was worried sick!

i-

and then i get here and find out that youve abstracted and- i couldnt- i didnt want to see you like that, so i...

...you went to gangle to take a break from the chaos of this place. yeah. i get that.

...do you really? how long ago was that even?

uhhh... man, i dont know, a few weeks ago? it- a lot has happened since then, you know. its hard to keep track of things around here, with how quickly everything moves on around here.

...how long have you been... okay? i mean, unabstracted?

same answer as before. a few weeks i think.

oh...

origami?

...i missed you so much. you have no idea how hard it was, not knowing where you were. i-

i know more than you realize, 'gami. when i was, ah, restored, and saw people with living cranes, i knew it had to be you. problem was, no one knew where you went, so they couldnt tell me where to go to find you.

oh, right. that was... my bad. i... i panicked and accidentally told sun that jax... *ahem* anyways, i panicked and teleported to gangle.

oh, right, jax... god, i...

...sign?

...the whole reason i abstracted in the first place was because i was terrified something bad would happen to him. and it was WHILE I WAS GONE that something bad finally DID happen. by the time i was back... i... i dont know...

*they both fall silent.*

uh, i have some better news for you.

oh yeah? whats that?

i, uh... i have a boyfriend and-

WHAT?!

hehe, yeah, i knew youd react like that.

SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE ENOUGH RIZZ TO SNAG A BOYFRIEND?! WHO IS IT???

uh- ya seen the cemetery on the edge of the circus? he lives there.

the cemetery...? OH. MY. GOD. YOURE DATING BOB?!

pfft- yeah. i think he, uh, really appreciated that i stayed for him while he was abstracted, and, uh... actually, i cant think of any other reason why he likes me...

he hasnt said any?

um, well... *clears throat* hes called me cute before...

awwwww-

oh, shut up, 'gami! i dont see you dating anyone!

pfft- i dont need to. youve got that covered for the both of us.

wha- okay, whatever. i-

*origami suddenly rushes up and hugs him, suddenly crying. he hugs her back, startled but happy. she sniffles.*

youre so stupid and ive missed you so much, you big dork-

*sign smiles, squeezing her tight.*

i missed you too, sis.

[maareyas]

Hello sensei i request guidance

I have recently been reminded on my packet of ohuhu markers i bought a while back. Funny thing though,

I dont know how to use them (never used markers before let alone the alcohol ones or whatever the ones i got are)

Your use of markers is majestic, if i may ask, can you bestow upon me divine wisdom and show me where to start so i can learn please? Theres a lot of stuff online and its incapacitating me

Thank you for your time O great one!

*strokes fake beard* ah yes. my divine wisdom which i most certainly have and not my haphazard "winging it" XD

in all seriousness I'm really also still pretty new to markers;;;; So I wouldn't say I'm great at them yet ahdhhedjjd. I can only give a few points of advice:

1. Paper - I'd argue this is the most important part bc 70% of the art quality WILL be based on how well your paper takes ink. The papers I use are either Ohuhu's own marker sketchbook or watercolor/mixed media paper (about 200 gsm).

I would recommend the marker paper since it's actually specialized for markers and makes the color pop more. Watercolor paper also works, but it makes the colors look a lil duller. In my experience, it's blending markers on watercolor paper dries slower, which makes it easier to blend smoothly/with less streaks. I heard it also sucks up your marker ink more, but I haven't been using markers long enough to know.

2. Blending - There should be a colorless alcohol-only marker in ur set. You use that for blending (mostly). Lay down the colorless "ink" first, AND THEN draw over it with the colors you want to blend--while the alcohol is still wet ofc.

This is difficult to explain without visuals--but, I also tend to use the lighter/fainter colors as a "blending color" also. Blending colors in the same hue or are analogous is easier. Mostly. Meanwhile I had to fight for my life trying to blend orange with blue or even just a cooler gray without looking muddy.

3. Bleeding - THESE THINGS LOVE TO BLEED FR. On both marker paper and watercolor paper, I always have to compensate for how much the ink bleeds/feathers once it actually touches the paper, especially when you're using brush tip markers. I hate it ✨

Also if Ohuhu includes this plastic? film? thingy with their markers iirc. You put that on the back of the paper you're drawing on to catch any ink that bleeding through the page.

4. swatch your markers - imo markers are WAY more rigid in terms of color and blending. Yet frustatingly, they also can look very different when wet vs. when dry. SO! it helps alot to make swatches of your markers so you can get a consistent idea of what they'll actually look like.

5. Use colored pencils instead of markers for drawing details - After doing the broad colors with marker, I like to go back in with colored pencils to add detail and for some color correction. I can't do details in marker. I'm not powerful enough for that hfhrhehe

6. Ohuhu's marker caps DON'T match the color they are. It's dumb and another reason why you should make swatches fhhdjej

Aside from that I don't think I have much else. The rest of my knowledge comes from watching other artists' tutorials:

in summary: i have no idea what im doing 👍 hope this helps! ✨

[artichokefunction]

the agent walks up to the kitchen staffs door, and it holds its wrist up to the ID scanner. it is let inside, no problem. that chip in its organic arm is one of the few actual wireless pieces of tech it has installed onboard, because those chips are easy to write to and easy to erase and are a very non-obtrusive system. can't hack someone through their ID, and those are so easy to fake. you don't really know why they're still in such common use. makes your job easier, you suppose. the kitchen staff work around the agent, and the agent slips through them.

it gets weird looks, they know they're in some danger, but no one ends up hurt. it stresses you out, a little bit, to see your agent around civilians. you dont really know why. or, well, you know what it can do. you don't know what it won't do. it's impossible to test for the absence of an occurrence. that's not the phrase. it's impossible to prove that something will never happen. that's it. no wait, that doesn't sound right either. whatever. you are not afraid of the agent, it is your friend. these random civilians are not it's friends. as far as you know. but it is polite, as far as you can tell, as it moves through the crowded kitchen. you check that it has access to the latest version of your little map of this building, and it does. and then it proves that it does because it goes the long way around and takes the door that leads to the staff hallways, and not the fancy ass dining area. it's following the route it needs to, no issue. tiny issue. it needs to get through two locked doors. issue so small it is microscopic, because all these locks are ID activated. lol. you scrape the biometric data you need from the security network, and update it's chip. and it's let through without issue. no wait. a little warning popup about how one person apparently went through one door twice in one direction. valid concern. you delete the warning. lol. the agent makes it to the room without issue.

inside of the room is a slender young man with short, greasy hair and a jumpy air to him. the agent startles him a lot by just popping up silently in the corner of his office. this is the client, and not the target. your view from the agents visor keeps wandering, because it's a bit bored. the client, Petra, asks you a question, out loud. well, he asks the agent a question, but it's not really listening. you respond via text, same channel that he hired you on.

"So. You're... agent Mandible?"

the codename you're currently using. [yes yes. where is the target? thought there was a job to do.]

you do not need to be this rude, but also it's kinda fun, watching the fear on his face, watching him puzzle the pieces together entirely incorrectly, because he whispers "Ah, so you're a robot..." under his breath in a way he thinks you won't hear. lol? even if one of you was a robot, you would be able to hear that. this guy is a fool. a fool who is paying you to kill his superior. it might actually be his dad, you didn't pry enough to find out. he has composed himself enough to tell you what room the target is in.

"I don't think I need to tell you how to get there, given that you found me just fine." he shuffles his feet, and visibly struggles to maintain eye contact. he feels he needs to be polite, apparently. "You arrived at the perfect time, he should be asleep for the next 15 minutes or so..." he trails off, and then turns to look out a window, hands behind his back, all fuckin formal. the agent is out of there as soon as the talking is over, and you've sent it on the updated map. you check on the targets room remotely. holy shit. the door lock isn't even engaged. he left it open. there are two cameras in his room. one is completely off, he requested that? lol. the other is not off, but it is on standby mode, it should alert and start recording when it detects movement. getting past that specific trick is not brainlessly easy, but it's not impossible either. you just want it to look untampered with. or- wait. it only needs to look untampered for the text ten minutes or so, while no-one's looking too hard, probably. you get it hacked, it's a good enough job. as good as it needs to be. they won't have footage of the incident. now you get to watch the agent do it's part of the job, from its perspective, no less. it takes a moment to consider something. medium of dispatch, maybe? oh, yeah. it gets out its knife. hand over his mouth, blade into his neck, up into the skull. simple and silent. kinda messy and gruesome also. the poor cleaning staff, that is not a cheap carpet. at least that desk seems very blood-proof, with how excessively shiny it is. the agent wipes its knife on the targets sleeve, and then it is out of there, along the new route you've sent it, down the quiet staff hallways but not the same ones as earlier. you leave your cam hack in place, might as well, and you text the client and tell him [it is done.] which is very edgy of you, you admit, but it's appropriate for this job, probably.

hmm. there's something to ponder there, about the aesthetics of death. guns make the process of creating death much more efficient, they're machines, they're optimized. using your own hand weapons takes the degree of separation out of it. you're much closer to the violence you're doing. you, in the general grammatical case, your personal hands are still pretty clean, overall. well, ok, no. degrees of separation, again. you are paid to be the middleman between the person who wants someone dead and the person who does the killing. person is here. you wave it into the truck, and then you drive away, out of this parking lot.

[do you want more hand weapons? i've been mostly focusing on guns, for range and effecacy, but for small jobs like this it might be worth it. maybe? what do you think?]

it makes a small ponderous noise, and looks up to the roof, fidgeting with its fingers, deep in thought.

[i should be able to get my hands on some weapons catalogs for you, plus there's that expo coming up in a few weeks. but with both of those, there's the problem of you being actively sold something. lots of loud flashy words to get you to spend lots of money money money]

it huffs a quiet laugh, and then it pulls its mask down to tap at its jaw. huh? oh, it's referencing the guy who sold you that jaw, and a lot of other very flashy and not strictly nessecary items. you laugh at that.

[oh man, i don't remember how many of them you've met, but i have quite a lot of friends like that. my sincere condolences.]

it throws it's hands up in mock despair, very clearly smiling at the same time. you have a new message, from Petra. [The money has been forwarded to you.] oh damn. immediately after the job? this guy has a lot of trust in his bank security. or he just hasn't thought of what an investigator might look for. family of rich idiots, over there. once the money comes in, you'll move it to your actual account. obfuscatory steps. the agent is messing with a small piece of fabric, folding and unfolding it. it might have snatched that from that last job. that's fair, honestly. small enough to be hard to identify and easy to dispose of it needed, and it looks like it has a good texture to it. you should get it some new fidgety things, once this money comes in. you could get yourself something too, maybe. been a while since you got new clothes, but also you don't like lugging around too much unnessecary stuff. maybe there's a clothes swap event somewhere nearby you could drop in to. how would you find that. you could ask a friend. carmen, they seem like they would know. you should drop into them anyways, say hi. it gets kinda hard to keep up with friends, with the constant travelling. but you do your best, and your friends are cool, they all seem to understand. the agent has just finished typing something out on its communicator.

[bazooka would be funny]

that is SO far from anything you were expecting, you're breathless with laughter.

[say fuck all of you. get explode]

you make a little explosion motion with both hands, one still on the wheel. the agent looks somewhat proud of having gotten you to laugh.

[okay, man, do you have any actual ideas?]

[no. give me some time]

[yeah yeah, no worries. we're in no rush]

[frontline-titties-of-the-fifth]

about ur secret top surgery(sorry if this is too personal, feel free to not respond i am seeking advice and i don't have anyone to talk to about this irl [i mean i do but they r my siblings and i do not want to bother them therefore i’m bothering you]) are you out to your family? love the idea of gaslighting but do they refer to you as she? i am on the same boat kinda and i have been putting off going on t because i am scared lol thank you for reading🙏 stay safe out here

so yes and no. I am very openly gay, and have lots of gay fam members so that's never been an issue. I haven't told any of my extended family (siblings and parents know abt gender and surgery) i am nonbinary but mainly because my gender to me is my own so it doesn't bother me when people use she/her. I don't see it as very accurate but it doesn't harm me or make me uncomfortable so in terms of coming out, I don't feel like I've ever been in any sort of danger that my family would react poorly. I only say this because my situation is a rare and very simple one, and I want any advice I may dish out to be taken through the lens of someone who is very privileged in that sense.

that being said,here's my thoughts. you are you and you dont owe people any of yourself that you dont want to share. easier said than done when dealing with noticeable physical changes, esp in regards to 'gendered' characteristics and safety does usually play a factor. if you feel safe and secure, then personally i dont see why you should have to explain medical decisions to anyone you dont want, but if you dont feel safe then maybe there are ways that you can make smaller but still personally satisfying changes until you are in a position to not feel afraid. I wore a binder and if anyone felt the need to comment I just said it was a super duper sports bra. I went by my last name bc my first name was too gendered for me and if anyone asked I was like ahh idk I did a lot of sports in hs so everyone just called me that or whatever.

safety is important, both mental and physical so unfortunately there is no one easy or perfectly right answer. for me, I am weirdly kinda of lucky to be looking like im smuggling cantaloupes bc I can tell people who I am not out to that it was for back/neck pain (which like fr that is a huge factor).

I don't know if any of this will help. I hope so but keep in mind the bottom line that you dont owe people explanations. and if you like the straight up lying aspect, go on T and when people ask about physical changes just say "ah doc says I've got a hormone imbalance" which like, is only half a lie. stay safe

[haruniki]

Genshin Impact Characters taking care of you when you're sick- pt. 1/?

a/n: i missed doing stuff like this!! it's usually really fun to write but i stopped doing them bc i felt like they were getting repetitive, but im gonna try to not make them repetitive. Includes the ladies of Mondstat(like 4 bc i dont feel like writing for too many at once)

Jean 6/10 but only bc she's cute or whatever 🙄🙄

Jean doesn't even take time for 5 min break from work, so...

She does have people come check in on you and report back to you. In fact, she has the traveler get medicine for you and to make sure you're okay.

Also has the traveler deliver letters to you with sweet messages on them

Might even see if Lisa can help you get well sooner

If Jean does finish her work for the day, she speeds to your shared room. Immediately, kneeling and grabbing on to your hand. Apologizing that she couldn't stay with you to help you, but that she's here now and will get you whatever you need.

"Apologies, love. I know I should've stayed here with you, but I had to finish those papers. On the bright side, I completed tomorrow's work. I'll be able to stay with you and help however i can."

Lisa 8/10, she may have some medical background right?

Lisa is a alumna from Sumeru's Akademiya and her studies weren't primarily Arcane Arts so it's possible she studied some medical stuff.

Plus she's a librarian, she's mostly read or come across books on medicine or herbs that will help with whatever is wrong

takes double the time off to help you recover even if it's a small cold

Will pamper you, like paint your toenails or brush your hair for you to try to distract from the headache or aches you might have

Also puts the medicine in teas because she doesn't like how bitter medicine tastes and knows it'll help it go down easier, plus warm tea helps soothe your throat!

Tries her best not to get sick, but she might end up getting a small cold or small cough after you get well

Overall, does a really good job at helping you get well

" This tea will help the medicine go down better, plus it'll help clear up your breathing. And you'll be better in no time, but try not to swallow it to quickly. It's still pretty hot cutie."

Amber 4/10 i mean she kinda knows what to do?

Amber wants to help you but doesn't quite know how except to get medicine.

Spends like 20 minutes deciding which Medicine she should get and still doesn't get the right one. Does go back and gets the right one

She pops in on all her breaks to see how you're doing and if you need anything.

Will run and get you whatever you need, no matter how far away it is.

Makes the best soup because she had read somewhere that soup helps when someone is sick.

Also gets sick because she would constantly cuddle up to you because ahe wasn't sure what else to do to help.

"I present Amber's super special soup! I made it with all your favorite veggies! I also picked up some medicine that you can take after you eat. It should help a ton!"

Sucrose ????/10

Sucrose is an alchemist and as such she could be technically labeled as a doctor or sorts. Is she an ethical doctor? Considering what her specialty dish looks like i would say no, but to each their own.

Sucrose would probably use you being sick as amply opportunity to test out some medicine that she had made but never got the chance to test until now. No you may not question why it's an oozy looking purple still not a solid, but also not a liquid texture

However she won't make you her test subject for the medicine if you don't want to Sucrose is totally fine with getting you medicine from Albedo or a local doctor if you would prefer.

Sucrose does try her best to keep you entertained to the best of her ability. She also really tries to get you to sleep as often as you can, it should help speed up your healing process

DONT LET HER COOK FOR YOU

Ask Sucrose for something made by Lisa or Amber, and use that they have a secret ingredient that helps you feel better. Sucrose cooking is a bit of a disaster

Sucrose does try her best for literally everything else and manages to not get sick after taking care of you

"This is a seru- medicine that i made a while ago... I..I didn't get the chance to study what all it does so i was hoping... Oh, yeah.. I suppose regular medicine would be the best route. Wouldn't want you to get worse."

[aaronpaceluvbot]

song lyrics (aaron x reader)

summary: in which you have a slight fight with Drum over your favorite practice room. you need it to practice your music and he needs it to practice whatever it is he does, but Aaron finds out and comes to your rescue. 

before you read: this is probably the most self indulgent fic i’ve ever written, forgive any inaccuracies. i'm assuming aaron can play piano because my school only lets you play percussion if you can play piano, school starts at 6:45 for me so it does in this fic as well, LOWKEY OOC AARON…, voice teachers are scary af , READER IS FEM, written in honor of me having a recital in a week and i am in fact losing my voice, DRUM APPEARS AND LIKE THE THING IS IS THAT I DONT REMEMBER WHO’S WHO SO HE’S JUST REFERRED TO AS DRUM , this flows so weirdly sorry yall i promise i had an outline , this is like the 20th fic that reader cries in (reader is so me.), i didn’t wince as much while writing the affection (PROGRESS!!!), THIS IS  NOT PROOFREADDD  reader is implied to be in choir and not in play an instrument anymore, SOME MUSICAL TERMS?? if you’re confused about them I Will Add Explanations. 

WC: 6.2k words. holy moly. 

songs referenced that are good to listen to:

sebben crudele

ah! tardai troppo

—

You always tried to get to school early to make use of the practice rooms especially since everyone seemed to want to use them at that time. You especially needed to practice considering the fact that you had a rehearsal today with your accompanist and you hadn’t practiced at all for it. You found that arguably the best practice room was open so you placed your stuff in there and tried to quickly get your binder and your anthology book for lessons. You noticed a person standing in front of the room. He notices you as well. “Are you using it?” He asks, looking at you expectantly.

“Yeah? My stuff is already in there,” you tell him, clutching your binder. If he really wanted to fight about a practice room at 6 in the morning, he could if he wanted to. You would gladly give it up if he was going to keep it going, but you’d make practicing absolute hell for him. 

“Well I need to use it to record something for an assignment,” he says, clearly expecting you to give up the practice room. You roll your eyes at him. He really couldn’t have used one of the other open practice rooms? Sure their acoustics were horrible in comparison to this one, but your stuff was already in there! 

“I needed to use it to practice something for voice lessons,” you respond, raising your binder and book up. He looks at it, confused. 

“Can’t you do that somewhere else?” He asks, giving you a look of disdain. You roll your eyes and decide to end the conversation. When you said you’d make practicing hell for him, you weren’t joking. You enter the practice room next to his and you pull out your sheet music. After doing some light hums and lip trills, you pull out a couple arias from your book. Quickly taking a sip of water, you sing a couple scales. Your voice seemed to be in good condition today. Perfect. You decide on the easier of the two arias to avoid straining your voice - Sebben Crudele. You sing through it to see if you had it memorized and thankfully you did! This would help you avoid the wrath of your voice teacher. You were going through the rough patches of the song when you heard a knock on the door. You look through the window and see the guy from earlier.

You open the door and give him a confused look. He clears his throat. “Do you mind keeping it down? Everytime I record my part check, I hear more of you than I hear myself!” He’s cut off by the sound of yelling down the hall.

“DRUM. DRUM. DRUM I SWEAR TO GOD.” You both look to see where the voice is coming from and you see the source coming this way. It was a brunette boy who looked outraged at the guy who knocked on your door. You both look at him confused. Why was he calling out for a drum???

“Aaron what’s wrong???” The guy asked, looking confused. 

“Tell me why I found your crumpled up sheet music on the floor covered in spit,” Aaron says, clearly pissed. He gives you a look and then Drum?? one as well. “Is he bothering you?” He asks. You sigh and nod. 

“She was bothering me! She kept like making all these high pitched noises!” Drum?? says, looking at you as if you committed a war crime. 

“This is what happens when you make the wrong person mad,” you mutter, rolling your eyes at the dude in front of you. Aaron sighs at the exchange. 

“Do you mean singing?” He asks him, giving him a dirty look.

“Yeah! That thing!! Can’t you do that anywhere?? So she doesn’t really need the practice room!” Drum tried arguing. 

“You can also play your little instruments anywhere, but I’m not complaining about that,” you retort.

“Aaron!! Do Something!!” He says. The boy rolls his eyes.

“Just leave her alone. She has a point. What’s your name?” Aaron asks, turning to you. You tell him your name and he nods. “If he keeps bothering you, or if any of the drumline bothers you, come to me and I’ll set things straight.” You nod at his comment, amused that he’d even say something like that. He was probably a section leader, you thought, judging by the way he commanded that guy to leave you alone. He reminded you of one of your old section leaders. You leave it at that and shut the door and continue practicing. 

Aaron sighed as he dragged Drum away from the practice rooms and into the band room. He gave him the dirtiest of looks. “Why would you embarrass us like that?” He asks, rubbing his temples as Drum struggled to come up with an explanation. “You know what Wiley said, to leave the vocalists alone if they’re practicing. They need the practice rooms just as much as we do.”

“Yeah but she was so loud! She was louder than me trying to play the part check!” He whines. Aaron does the thing that you do to dogs to get them to calm down. He pokes his neck with two fingers. 

“If she’s louder than your playing, then that’s your issue. An instrument playing at forte will always be louder than someone singing forte,” he grumbles, obviously fed up with his antics. This wasn’t the first time that a spat between Drum and a vocalist occurred. “Just practice elsewhere. Practice here for god’s sake.” Aaron decides to walk out of the room, but stay nearby to see if he actually practices. He does not. He let out a loud exhale as he tried to come up with a prank to use to get Drum to practice productively. The bell rang and interrupted his thinking. 

You let out a sigh as the bell rang. You didn’t want to go to class and would much rather practice your music. Instead of putting your belongings back into the choir room, you decided to just put them in your backpack. As you exited, he called out your name. You turn to face him and greet him with a smile. “Thanks for earlier,” you say, fidgeting with your hands.

He nods. “It was nothing.” The two of you walk in awkward silence until you exit the music hallway. 

“So what class are you headed to?” You ask him as you both go the same way.

“Poetry.” “Do you like it?” You ask. He didn’t seem like the type to take poetry in the first place, but we all have our interests.

“I think it’s a good outlet for me, even though I wasn’t the biggest fan of it when I took the class. I only took it because my counselor said I couldn’t take a different class.” You nod at his words. You had beef with your counselor so you understand why he felt that way. “What class are you going to?” He asks, looking you straight in the eye. You only realized this now, but he was really attractive. You brush it off and continue the conversation. You can talk about him to your friends later. 

“English,” you say, shuddering. He gives you a confused look.

“Who do you have?”

“Williams.” He makes a face that could only be described as pure loathing.

“Well I’m sorry for your loss. I hated her when I had her.” 

“I always feel horrible for the classes near us whenever she goes on one of her rants,” you murmur, thinking back to the time that she got really pissed about a kid’s essay and threw a heavy metal water bottle. 

“No yeah, my poetry class is right next door and every time she starts going on a tangent, my teacher just tells us to brace ourselves and he plays music,” he says, almost amused. You nod and let out a laugh. The two of you walk in silence to the English wing and separate once you two get to your respective classes. But before the two of you enter your respective classes he stops you. You give him a confused look.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, tilting your head. He shakes his head with a smile. “No, just hand me your phone,” he says, sticking his hand out.

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to ask for my number so soon,” you joke, obviously keeping your phone away from him. He laughs as you try to keep him from getting it.

“Well then, if you don’t want my number, then I guess you’ll have to fall victim to all the band kids who are gonna bother you in the practice rooms,” he says, shrugging and getting ready to leave.

“Wait! Aaron, no!” You say, grabbing his hand and placing your phone in it. He lets out a chuckle at how you caved. He puts his number into your phone and sends himself a text. He pulls out his phone and checks to see if it sent. It did. 

“If any band kids pester you again, just text me and I’ll gladly come to your rescue,” he says, smirking at you. 

“Thanks for the offer Prince Charming, but I don’t think you’ll have to.”

“Oh so you think I’m charming?” He asks, raising his eyebrows at you. You shake your head and try to hide your laughter as you head to class, but he stops you again. “What class do you have after this?”

“Math…”

“With who?” 

“Miller…”

“We’re in the same class.”

“What? How have I not noticed you?” You ask him, trying to recall if he ever was in your class.

“I don’t know, but I knew you looked familiar earlier. Let’s walk to math together afterwards?” You nod and finally get into your classroom just before the bell rang.

—

You wait for Aaron outside of your classroom. The door to his class is still closed, but right as you’re about to leave, the door swings open. He comes out of class, eyes scanning the area, looking for you. He smiles when he sees that you waited for him. “Glad that you didn’t forget about our little plan,” he says, walking next to you. 

“How could I? It’s not everyday that you talk to Mr. Prince Charming himself,” you say, laughing at your own joke. 

“If anything, Peter’s Prince Charming. I think I’m more of a Derek Charming,” he says shrugging. 

“Like from Ever After High?” You ask, looking amused.

“Yeah, that one.” 

“What do you know about Ever After High?” You tease.

“I’ll have you know that I watch it with my little sister,” he says, sticking his hands up in defense. A thought pops into your head.

“Wait, so where do you sit in math? I still don’t know how I didn't notice that you were in my class.”

“I’m like all the way in the back corner by the door.” You nod. 

“That’s a really good seat. I got stuck sitting by her desk. But looking out the windows is really nice, if she actually leaves the blinds open.” You both snicker at your comment. Your teacher was infamous for having an insanely dark classroom that everyone fell asleep in. Her blinds were always closed and her lights would always be off and instead, she would only have fairy lights on. You both entered the class and you both chatted at his spot until the bell rang. You wandered off to your desk and sat there, getting your things out.

“Ok class! I have a bad headache right now, so you guys can just do these practice problems with a partner and just check them with the answer key by the end of class,” she said, handing out sheets of paper. You turn to look for a partner and realize that your friend was absent today. You sigh and figure that you’ll just work alone on it. When you get ready to start the first problem, you notice a figure standing by your desk. You look up and see Aaron.

“Wanna be my partner?” He asks and you nod. You follow him to his seat and pull up a chair. He’s actually pretty good at math which is nice since math is definitely one of your weak spots. The two of you make small talk until he asks an interesting question. “Would you want to hypothetically help me pull a prank?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“On who?” “The guy from earlier. He’s in my section and he’s been causing some trouble lately and I need to keep him in line somehow.” You nod at his reasoning. It makes sense, but you’ve never heard of anyone pulling pranks to keep anyone in line. The worst thing a section leader has done in choir was probably just throw a stand with someone’s binder and music in it but that was different from a prank. 

“I’ll think about it. I just need more details, you know?” He nods. “What would you even do?” He says something regarding his drum. “But how would I be involved?”

“I just need you to do your thing and sing your little heart out. That shouldn’t be too difficult right?” You let out a small laugh at his question.

“It shouldn’t be. Any suggestions on what I should be singing?” You ask jokingly. But he seems to take it seriously.

“Do you have your music on you?” You nod and pull out your anthology book and hand it to him. He reads the title. 

“Coloratura arias for soprano. Neat.” He flips through the book, examining the music. He places the book between the two of you so you both can get a look. You already knew the contents of the book, so you chose to observe him. He grimaced as he looked at a page. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, trying to see what page he was on. It was a page from the aria “Ah! Tardai Troppo”. All the melismas must’ve been what he was referencing. “Nothing. Your music just looks intimidating. But I think you should sing this one.” He gently shuts the book and hands it to you. Your hands brush for a split second. You’re definitely going to tell your friends about him. You put your book away in your bag and continue on with the math problems. 

— 

Later in the day, you walk to the music hallway with a skip in your step after your interactions with Aaron. He’s really sweet and funny and just… he’s amazing. You go to find your voice teacher in the choir room, but you see her speaking to Garth. Garth was one of your closest friends as you often kept him company when he wasn’t busy accompanying any of the choirs. Both of them looked concerned and only looked even more worried when they both saw you. “Did someone die?” You ask, looking around. No one else was there except for the three of you.

“No, it’s not that. I’m afraid I won’t be able to accompany you during solo/ensemble night. Something personal came up,” Garth says. You nod in understanding. Whatever it was, you hope that he’s ok. “It’s ok Garth! I just need to find someone else to accompany me right?” You ask, looking between the two of them. Your voice teacher nods and Garth clears his throat.

“Yep! And in fact, I think I have the perfect person for you. Do you know Aaron? Aaron Pace?” Garth asks. You nod. “I’m sure he’d be willing to accompany you. In fact, I think he has lunch this hour so you could ask him right now and you could give him my music as well.” He hands you the sheet music. 

“I’ll go hunt him down!” You say, giving a mock salute to the two of them. You exit the choir room and head into the practice rooms. You send Aaron a quick text. 

where are you?

He responds just as fast. 

practice rooms, why?

You sigh

i need to meet with you, it’s important. 

meet me in the big piano practice room. i’m already there. 

You circle around the practice rooms and find the one he was talking about. He was sitting on the piano bench on his phone and looking up. His eyes brightened when he saw you and he let out a chuckle when you tried to pull open the heavy door. “What’s up?” He asks, looking concerned after seeing the look on your face.

“I kind of have a favor to ask you. It’s fine if you don’t want to, but basically I need an accompanist for solo ensemble night and mine kind of bailed and he told me to ask you if you could be my accompanist,” you sputter out. He nods, deep in thought.

“I mean sure, why not? Solo ensemble night is like, a month away right?” You nod. “That should be enough time for me to learn the music. Do you have it with you?” You murmur something that seemed like a response and you handed him the sheet music. “Oh nice. This is the song we were looking at earlier, and most of it looks easy enough to learn in like 30 minutes or so. Tell you what, since we’re both a little occupied with our little prank today, when I get home I’ll learn it and if I can learn it pretty quickly, I’ll send you a text and you can come over. If not, we can just run it tomorrow during lunch.” “Yep! That sounds good. Thank you so much for agreeing to this even though I kinda just sprang it onto you,” you say sheepishly. 

“Well I’ll be off now. Good luck with whatever his name is.” He laughs at your comment and you walk out. Little did you know, he only agreed to it because it was you. 

—

Later in the day, you get a text from Aaron. 

i finished learning it. there were only a couple tricky spots, so you can come over now. here’s my address - xxxx

You read through the text and type out a response

would you mind picking me up? It’s totally fine if you can’t, my car’s just getting an oil change right now

You hear the chime of a notification

what's your address? i’ll be omw

You send him your address. After 15 minutes or so you hear the doorbell ring. You grab your things and then head downstairs to look through the peephole. You see him standing there. You open the door. “Hi,” you say, feeling immediately awkward after saying it.

“Hi,” he says back. It takes 5 seconds of awkward silence before the two of you burst out in laughter. “So are you ready to go?” He asks, fiddling with his hands.

“Mhm!! Let me just lock the door real quick and then we can go.” You exit the house and try to lock the door. You stand there, trying to hold all your things while trying to put the key into the lock and Aaron takes your music from you when he notices you struggling. You thank him and you both get into his car, with him opening the door for you. You two both sit in comfortable silence as he drives to his house. You both get out and he uses his house keys to get inside. He gives you a slight tour and leads you to the room where his piano is. He grabs a stand nearby and hands it to you. You decide to break the silence. 

“How was it?” You ask, and he hums in response as he’s setting up his music. He freezes like a deer in headlights. 

“How was what?” 

“Learning the music,” you say, deciding to copy him and set up your music as well. He nods at your response. You notice that he hasn’t responded and has what seems to be a thinking face. 

“It wasn’t horrible,” Aaron says, shrugging. You laugh at his response. “What? It wasn’t!” 

“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at how long it took for you to come up with a response,” you say, covering your mouth before your laughter turned into a fit of giggles. 

“You are the absolute worst,” he says jokingly, making an exaggerated sighing noise and marking something in his music. 

“But you love me for it!” You say, mimicking his actions. He rolls his eyes at you and clears his throat. 

“Is there anything that you do that isn’t written in the music?” He asks, picking his pencil up.

“There’s a few ritardandos and other things, but we could just go through the piece and fix it as we go,” you say, flipping through your music. A question lies on the tip of your tongue, but you decide not to ask. Aaron can tell that you were thinking about something though based off of your facial expression. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I was just curious about why you asked that,” you admit.

“Because I’m accompanying you… It’s not my first time doing this,” he says, laughing at your dumbfounded expression. “You’re the soloist, not me. I’ll always be sure to watch you and follow you.” 

“How? Are you gonna practice or something?” You tease, laughing at your own joke. 

“I wouldn’t mind doing so if it was you,” he retorts. “But if that’s all, then that should be fine. We should be able to get started.” 

You nod and you take a swig of water from your water bottle. He plays the intro to the piece. It goes shockingly well considering that he just learnt the piece and that you hadn’t practiced much, but you eventually get to the end of whatever good luck the two of you had. You got to a very painful melisma with way too many accidentals to count which made it hard to stay in key. 

[a melisma is basically a riff - it’s singing multiple notes on one syllable]. 

Aaron makes a face and stops playing when your voice trails off. “What happened?” He asks, looking genuinely concerned.

“Nothing! I’m fine, I just psyched myself out a little bit with that part. I think I just need to review it really slowly really quickly,” you say, shuddering at the fact. Normally you could sing it in front of literally anyone, but why were you scared to sing it in front of Aaron? He wasn’t going to blow up at you or anything for not being able to sing it.

“No yeah, I get that,” he says, nodding at your comment. 

“It’s just embarrassing that I messed up,” you say sheepishly, choosing to fiddle with a corner of your sheet music.

“Don’t worry about it, you sounded great,” he says, turning to face you and giving you what seems to be a genuine smile. You nod and murmur a quick thank you. “So do you want me to play your part for you, or do you want to play it?”

“I can play it.” With that, he scoots over on the piano bench and gives you space to sit. You play your starting note and hum it. You try to make your way through the melisma, but it’s been a while since you had to play an instrument. Aaron notices you struggling after a few rough attempts. 

“Here, let me,” he says, so quietly that it was almost a whisper. He gently removes your hands from the keys and instead places his on the keys. With his free hand, he places your hands on top of his and slowly breaks it down for you, letting you control the tempo. After doing this a few times, he looks at you expectantly. “Do you feel better?” He asks, turning to face you. 

He looks you straight in the eye. You nod and quickly get up from the bench, trying to hide the flustered look on your face. You think he doesn’t and the rest of the rehearsal goes smoothly. Afterwards, you both make arrangements to meet up again and rehearse before solo ensemble night. 

—

After a few more rehearsals, you became much more comfortable performing with Aaron. In fact, you became so comfortable that instead of having productive rehearsals, you’d spend the time mostly talking. You both leaned towards each other to listen to what the other would say. The two of you would talk about small things, like new music that you got or just about your day. But this rehearsal was different. You had been on the brink of losing your voice due to the fact that you’d been overusing it lately, but you tried not to let that get the best of you. You kept running through the piece with him over and over again, but it kept getting harder and harder to get up there. Eventually it got to a point where nothing would come out. When he couldn’t hear your voice, he turned to look at you, but all he saw was you taking deep breaths with teary eyes.

Aaron didn’t know what possessed him, but he immediately got up and went to you. As he got closer, he realized that you started crying harder and started sniffling as well. He starts trying to calm you down, but you decide to wrap your arms around him. He holds you and tries to soothe you as your tears keep coming and eventually they come to a stop. “Are you alright? What happened?” He asks as you pull away from him and just stare. He’s surprised when your voice comes out hoarse and raspy. 

“Nothing. I just needed to shut up for a little bit, go on vocal rest, you know? And I was stupid and I chose to ignore it and it just-” You say, trailing off. He nods and opens his arms towards you, giving you a silent offer for a hug. You accept it and he rubs your back as you try to keep calm.

“You don’t need to push yourself. Solo ensemble night is going to go well, don’t worry about it,” he murmurs as you choose to bury your head in his shoulder. He pats your head and is eventually able to coax all the negative feelings out of you. That night, you realized one thing. You absolutely and positively have a thing for Mr. Aaron Pace.

—

That night you decided that you needed to tell someone about what happened and what you should do. You were in absolute shambles. You didn’t know what to do. If you told him about your feelings and destroyed the friendship the two of you had, you didn’t know what you’d do. You decided to call Cadence since she’d probably know the most about him in the first place. 

Your phone rang a few times until Cadence answered. You had science with her and the two of you became friends due to the fact that you two both came to class when there were no other seats open, so you both just ended up sitting next to each other. “Hi!! What’s up?” Cadence asks, angling her camera until you could only see her forehead and her eyes. You laugh at her and take a screenshot to annoy her with later. “Why’d you screenshot it?” She asks, zooming out to give you a dirty look.

“No reason,” you say, smirking. “But seriously I wanna ask you about something.” “I’m all ears,” she says, placing her phone on her bed and staring directly into the camera.

“Ew… Don’t do that…” You say, covering your eyes and exaggeratedly shuddering at her actions. “Fine, but what is it that you wanted to talk about?”

“I think I have a crush on someone-” “Who? Is it Aaron?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows. Your jaw drops. Was it that obvious? “It wasn’t… Actually it kinda was, but if he hasn’t said anything about it yet, then I’d say that he thinks highly of you at least. If he didn’t, he probably would’ve told you to drop it or to stop talking to him.”

“I said that out loud?” You ask, looking confused. She nods.

“Mhm. But seriously, I think you have a chance. Maybe all you need to do is tell him!” “But what if I ruin our friendship by doing that?”

“Well, do the benefits outweigh the risks? Because if you’re really worried about ruining the friendship or something, just ask yourself that before doing so. Other than that, I don’t know what to tell you.” You proceed to tell her about the incident and what happened and she gives the same insight. “He’s blunt. He’s not gonna act like that just because. In fact, I’m surprised he even agreed to being your accompanist in the first place. But there’s a first for everything, so I say you should just go for it.” With that, your conversation with Cadence ends. You let out a loud exhale as you let yourself fall onto your bed. You truly didn’t know what to do. 

—

You decided the best way to deal with this was to distance yourself from him. Cadence was right, you needed to be able to weigh both the pros and cons before confessing. You needed to clear your head, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to do that if you kept talking to him. Your walk to class felt lonely without him and you felt your heart ache when you passed him in the hallway. He tried to wave to you, but you flat-out ignored him. After English, you made sure to take a different route to your shared math class. This routine continued until solo ensemble night. 

—

When the night came, you paced anxiously backstage. You were ready to get this over with and be free from your thoughts of Aaron. However, he didn’t make it easy. You were busy watching someone’s performance on stage and didn’t notice him walking over and standing next to you. Someone clearing their throat catches your attention. “You know, you shouldn’t be doing that. It messes with your voice,” you say, not realizing who you were speaking to.

“But I’m not singing,” he says. You turn and finally notice who’s next to you. 

“Aaron?” You ask, mouth open in shock. You didn’t think he’d willingly talk to you after you tried distancing yourself from him. 

“Did I do something to you? Did I cross a line during that one rehearsal? If I did something, please tell me. I can’t have you ignoring me like this, especially not when I feel- nevermind,” he murmurs, all of it coming out at once.

“You didn’t do anything. It was just me being stupid,” you mutter, rubbing your temples in embarrassment.

“Whatever it was, it probably wasn’t stupid. I’m sure you had a good reason,” he says, trying to get through to you. You shake your head, but you can’t. He takes your face in his hands and looks you in the eye. 

“It was stupid. It was so so stupid. I thought that distancing myself from you would help me figure out whether or not I should confess to you and it didn’t work at all and now I’m just left with all these feelings for you and I don’t know what to do,” you blurt out, immediately covering your mouth. You’re shocked that all these words exit your mouth, especially since you were so terrified of confessing to him in the first place. Aaron lets out a deep breath and hugs you tightly. 

“You know, you could’ve just told me. I don’t just act this way with anyone. I really do care for you. I have feelings for you as well,” he whispers into your ear. “Can I kiss you?” He asks, pulling away from the hug. You nod and wrap your arms around his neck and he places his hands on your waist. The two of you pull away from each other just before you’re called to the stage. “Good luck out there. Not that you’ll need it,” he says, smirking at you. He pats your head and quickly fixes your hair before the two of you walk out. 

“I could say the same to you,” you whisper to him in the wings. He smiles at you and then takes his seat on the piano bench and you take yours by the microphone. The performance goes well.

—

The two of you have a fit of laughter as you both make your way to the parking lot. “I hate these heels,” you say, giggling as you take them off and go barefoot on the concrete. You let out a shriek when Aaron picks you up.

“What? You said you hate your heels, so I just gave you a solution. I can’t have my pretty little girlfriend walking barefoot in the school parking lot. Who knows what you’ll get from walking here?” He jokes, and you let more giggles escape. 

“So that’s what I am, huh? Your girlfriend? And you think I’m pretty?” You ask, laughing as he pretends to think. 

“Mhm, and I think you’re very pretty,” he says, chuckling at you. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and pecks you on the forehead, causing you to fake swoon. 

“You are the absolute worst, you know that right?” You say, mimicking his words from a while ago.

“You love me for it though,” he says, smiling at you. He puts you down when the two of you reach his car, only to open the door for you and let you in. “Where do you wanna eat?” You shrug and tell him that it didn’t matter and that he could just go through any drive-thru. After getting some fast food, the two of you headed to his house. The drive was shrouded in comfortable silence since both of you guys decided to eat in the parking lot and then drive home. The two of you agreed on having a sleepover after solo ensemble night beforehand so you two could talk about it afterwards and get food together.

Once the two of you got to his house and went through your nighttime routines, the two of you sat on his bed. “So are you sure about the whole having feelings for me too thing or…” You ask, trying to break the silence. He playfully rolls his eyes at you. “No, I just invited you to my house to spend the night because I actually hate you and want to punt you out the window while you sleep,” he says sarcastically. You laugh at his joke and embrace him. “But seriously, I do care for you. In fact, I have something to show for it.” He gets up from his spot on the bed and you follow as well, just now noticing his too short Star Wars pajama pants. He goes to his desk and you stand there awkwardly before he places a box in your hands. He notices you looking between him and the box.

“What is it?” You ask, examining the outside of the box. It was just a plain, small, shipping box - the kind you’d use for jewelry.

“Just open it,” he says, grinning and giving you his hand. You take it and let him lead you back to your spots on the bed. You open the box and find it filled with small strips of paper stapled to a larger piece. 

“What is this?” You ask, smiling as you read the paper. You feel your face heat up and you feel flustered when you read the bottom panel of the box. It read: ‘songs that remind me of you and why”. “Shut up,” you say, covering your mouth with your hand. “You did not.”

“I did,” he says, laughing at your reaction. “Go through the songs.” You do, and you notice that they’re all songs that would play during the time the two of you spent together. From discussions about Laufey to trying to get him to scream Taylor swift to arguing about composers, they were all there. You gently shut the box and wrap him in the tightest hug that you could. You quickly break away to give him a peck on the lips, and he decides to deepen it. You finally pull away from him, slightly out of breath and trying to get air back into your lungs.

“When did you make this?” You ask him. 

“Around when you were keeping your distance. We had this poetry assignment and I was inspired by it,” he says. “I wanted to preserve all our memories together. After all, I know that music means just as much to you as it does to me and I wanted something that would remind me of that.” You nod at his words. 

“I’m glad we’re able to share that then,” you murmur. You wish that you were able to hear the rest of his words, but sleep was catching up to you and you quickly knocked out. He didn’t mind though. The two of you had so much more time to discuss these things in the future.

[dotster001]

My first route was chevalier, i picked him because clavis wasn’t available. The only 3 that were available back then were chevalier,leon and yves so i went with chev since he was my fav out of the 3, i didnt expect to end up loving him so much. He was my favorite character in ikepri(with an eng route released) but that was until Clavis’s route came out. I have never loved someone as much as i love him. Clavis is just everything i like and want in a person and i just think hes the perfect mix of adorable and cool.i think me and chevalier never really get past the friends phase but i feel like i would really like to date clavis. I’m extroverted and bubbly,therefore it was much easier to get to know clavis. I feel like while reading chevaliers route i loved his character but i knew he wouldnt get along that well with me ,on the other hand, i knew me and clavis would actually enjoy being with each other much more. I’m not much of a prankster myself but i dont mind getting pranked and all that. I love people who can make me laugh and yet also let me feel comfortable around them. I struggle with expressing what i actually feel though, i usually just try to ignore them or joke about it so no one takes it seriously. Maybe this could be a fluff story where me and clavis find it in us to confess to each other and admit our true feelings.

(some people may say, she forgot that she was doing an event. And to those people I say, shut up. I hope you enjoy! Clavis is such a squishy boy, I can't even 😭)

A Tale Where Clavis and His Lover Finally Confess, and Chevalier is Tired

Chevalier was tired. He’d finally let someone into his heart to be a friend to him, and they were as much a simpleton as his fool brother. The signs were in front of both of you that you were head over heels for each other. Even if he wasn’t a genius, he could’ve seen it. He’d even tried to be a good friend and big brother, and point you both in the right direction. But so far…nothing.

He knew the problem too. Neither of you could express your feelings so you were waiting for the other to do it. It was exhausting.

To be fair to you, Clavis was prone to saying things like, “I know you are madly in love with me, so when we get married I'll definitely (fill in the blank with whatever ridiculous thought that day)" and "we've been dating for so long that, (fill in the blank)". You were bound to have difficulty believing any of it.  

But to be fair to Clavis, he wasn't lying when he said those things. He genuinely believed what he said about being in love with you and planning to marry you. 

Chev had tried his hardest to let you both handle things yourselves. He had watched from afar as you stared at each other when the other was looking away.  He had sat in irritated silence as you both "fought" in his private library, the romantic tension between you both palpable.

But he was done. If his two simpletons (affectionate) weren't going to give in to their emotions, he would have to make them give in.

"Good morning King Highness! It is rare to see you up and at it so early! Why have you deigned to grace us with your presence?" Clavis had arrived at the office first.

"Sit, simpleton (derogatory)" Chev nodded at one of the two chairs.

Clavis simply wandered around the office, looking at objects like a cat deciding what to knock over.

You entered shortly after.

"Morning, Prince Chevalier, oh! Clavis! Good morning to you too!" Then your eyes went wide as you turned back to Chev.

"I swear, whatever he told you, I was in my room all night. I'm not his accomplice," you said hurriedly.

"Ah! You wound me," Clavis clutched his heart.

"Sit," Chev said again.

You were such an obedient little rabbit. He liked that. Maybe there was hope that you would rub off on his brother.

Crash

Or not.

With a heavy sigh Chevalier stood up, and simply left the room, locking the door behind him.

He could hear the immediate chaos; Clavis abruptly moving to pick the lock, and you standing up and asking what was happening.

He gestured to the men he had waiting in the room next door, and watched as they placed the heavy barricades around the door; the only things that would keep Clavis in.

He heard Clavis begin to swear, and you begin to shout, so he figured it was time for a hint.

"Figure out what I want and you can leave," and then he and his men walked away.

                                    ….

Once Clavis had realized picking the lock was useless, he had turned to you with a wicked grin.

"If he's going to cage us in here like animals, it's only fair that we act like them."

A chill went up your spine.

"What…what are you planning?"

Clavis picked up an object and, for the second time today, dropped it on the floor, shattering it. You flinched, knowing where this was going.

"Clavis," you hissed through your teeth.

He picked up a pot and dropped it while making direct eye contact with you. You flinched again, and he took that opportunity to put a framed picture into your hands.

"Come on, my faithful accomplice, do it."

You stiffened and adamantly shook your head.

He hummed and walked behind you. You didn't dare make eye contact. It would only encourage him.

He pressed himself against you from behind, placing his arms and hands over yours, his breath hot on your ear.

"Drop it," he whispered as he moved your hands.

The picture dropped, and just like that, you were an accomplice again. It didn't matter that you wouldn't drop anything else. It was enough for Clavis.

                                 ….

An hour in, Clavis had destroyed nearly everything in the office. The only things intact were the paperwork, the desk, and your chairs. 

Now that everything was ruined, he was starting to eye you the way he eyed the rest of the office. You knew that look. He was getting bored and trying to decide how messing with you would entertain him. You knew that would accomplish nothing so you had to get him on track.

"What did Chev mean by "figure out what I want"?" 

Clavis groaned and laid down on the ground. 

"I don't know. He's too much of a genius for it to make sense to mere mortals like us."

"But," you hesitated, "he wouldn't lock us in here if he didn't think we could figure it out."

Clavis grunted something under his breath, before abruptly sitting up.

"The window!"

"Huh?"

"Stand back in the corner," he said, grabbing a chair.

"Huh?" You asked, more frightened this time.

"Stand in the corner," he said as he approached the window.

Figuring out what he was doing, you rushed to the corner and covered your ears, just as he swung the chair at the window.

With the glass shattered, he gave you a smug look. He approached and wrapped an arm around your waist.

He waltzed you both to the open window, and he proudly hummed, " Your handsome prince has saved you once again. I'll accept payment in the form of your adoration."

His smile suddenly dropped, and he whispered, "Damn it all to hell."

You looked down and saw Chev and a small army standing under the window, waiting for you both.

                                   ….

It was hour five, and Clavis was back to laying on the floor. He'd done a whole lot, while you tried to work out the riddle.

He'd thrown all the paperwork on Chev and his army. He'd disassembled the desk and put it back together in a meaningless blob.  He'd attempted to get you to play cards with him. He'd formulated a new chemical mixture that he refused to say what it would do.

And throughout all of it, he'd brushed off your attempts, muttering something about how no one could keep Clavis caged. You were pretty sure he was getting cabin fever or something.

You were also worried that there had been a clue, but maybe he'd accidentally destroyed it.

"Clavis, I'm getting kind of hungry. Unless Chev has a hidden supply of snacks, we should probably solve the riddle now."

He lifted his head a little, and looked at you, before laying back down and pulling something out of his pocket.

"Here, you can have this. I'll be okay for a little while."

You retrieved the thing he was handing to you, and unwrapped it to reveal a bunch of crackers.

"I'd rather we split it," you said, feeling bad for taking what was most definitely the only thing he planned to eat until dinner.

"Only if you feed it to me," you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You took a cracker and pressed it to his lips. His eyes widened, and then softened as he opened his mouth and took the cracker between his teeth.

You moved to pull away, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you on top of him. He took one of the crackers and pressed it to your lips. Now that he was in control, his smile was smug again.

"Go on. I can't starve my accomplice," he grinned.

You did your best to ignore how he was trapping you with his other arm, and how his body heat was starting to become indistinguishable from your own, and nibbled the cracker.

He laughed, and wrapped his now free hand around you. He sighed, as he brought it up to your hair, running his fingers through it.

"You know, if we never get out of here, we'll have to figure out how to survive. Obviously, I'll be the king, cause I'm devilishly handsome, and a rogue, so you'll have to be our hunter, and catch all the game that roams the office."

"Hmm, office game is usually pretty crafty, I don't think I'll be able to catch it by myself. We may have to get some people to join our nation."

"Yeah, I bet we could get some of Chev's army to join us," he grinned. His grin turned soft, and you found yourself melting into his eyes.

"If we are stuck here, there's no one else I'd rather be stuck with." 

So soft, so vulnerable. He could be so genuine sometimes that you wanted to just cry.

"I won't lie to you, though. I have thought about locking you up before so that you could only look at me."

And other times he could be so childish.

You attempted to wriggle out of his grip, but he pouted and held you tighter.

"Hey, I just spilled my heart to you, and you're trying to flee. That's very rude."

"You're lucky I love you, or I would have fled for real a long time ago!"

Both of you froze. Then he grinned.

"You love me?"

You began struggling even more, but he ignored it, nuzzling his face in your neck.

"Finally! I've been waiting for you to fall for my charms."

"Clavis," you groaned as he mildly crushed your ribs.

"I know what you're worried about. You're worried that someone as handsome as me would have his eyes drawn to someone else. But no! My eyes are only for you!"

"Be serious," you said with an eye roll.

"I am!" He furrowed his brow. "I love you more than you can possibly love me!"

Before you could discuss anything further, you both heard a thud. You turned towards the sound, and saw that a rope ladder had been thrown through the window.

"Wait, did Chev give up?" You asked.

Clavis narrowed his eyes. "Let's get out of here so I can kill him."

And, once again, he was dragging you along after him for something you weren't sure you understood. But at least now, you could move forward with your relationship. Well, if he survived his attempt to kill Chev, that it.

[gascon-en-exil]

Nel and Raval broke the Internet. We have a serious debate on whether or not Dragons are acceptable of siblings incest with people even wondering how on earth dragon reproduction works.

I think they've just broken my inbox. I made an observation preemptively joking about how this was going to become a thing, and for some reason this is what's getting me dozens of anons. I've been a vocal critic of Avatars as a concept and have certainly never cared about shipping them with anyone, and yet here we are. It really is quite baffling; hopefully you all stick around for my next paralogue video this weekend and sub to my channel (let's go 500 subs!). Anyway, more anon perspectives:

So the fandom will never accept that the alternate universe equals to an excuse as to why there is no siblings bound between the main game siblings and the twins ? Man we are doomed. I guess that Nel and Rafal needs to screams a bit more about how their Sombron is not Alear's Sombron as if the developpers did not made it clear enough.

"normalizing harmful relationships" ?? what ?? ehm. so it's the people won't dont separate reality from fiction despite the fact that nobody will be able to one day travel dimension and marry the children of their own parent's counterpart.... god, even the game itself doesn't want it to be incest and is trying SO hard

I love how you basically stated all the reasons why a "morally good healthy ship" is not so healthy nor moral according to the very own anti' definition. I guess that there is something about people saying "love is love" in real life but when it's fictional character, it's literaly a death battle.

I think I know why the "Alear is dead" is brought on. Because from the start all ships were technically fucked up. No need for lolis, siblings, teenagers, old man or whatever relationship ties Rafal and Nel with Alear. If were on morality, all characters are marrying a dead person so even healthy and moral ships end up being immoral (asides from the whole species mixing that proved to be nothing but problem as it motivated Ashunera to make a flood). Good job Fire emblem.

This is going to be the Fates situation ALL over again. Except people this time will be petty with the whole separate dimension thing. We will have the anti trying to crave out, and the other who buy the excuse because they don't like incest while "Nel is waifu". and now that rafal has been confirmed to be a tsundere that like sweets... Yeah, Rafalear is going to be the great winner of the controversial not controversial pairing.

Ah yes, the infamous Byleth discourse because people don't know nor want to admit that grooming is not even age factor as there is kid that groom each other and some of them can be called pedophile. Wait till they discover that youngester can sexually assault older people, with the oldest of the party being the victim.

I gotta say, it must be very miserable to have an anti mindset when it comes to shipping, especially with a series like Fire emblem, which doesn't give a crap about power-imbalance like they do. I mean this is a series that has lord-retainer pairings, noble-commoner, incest, student-teacher, etc. I mean at this point, it's kinda FE's brand and it'd be a lot easier if people just accept that FE is a weird series that doesn't care about power dynamics in the same way Clamp didn't care about power imbalance with its relationships. It all just reveals that at the end of the day, these antis don't actually care about the real life victims, cause if they did, they would boycott the series and encourage people to do so like the moral satanic panic guardians of before. It's why I actually begrudgingly respect the people who do boycott Fire Emblem for "problematic elements", cause at least those guys are consistent with their moral uptight behavior.

Fe players : Alear and the twins are siblings as they share a dad

The whole DLC + the twins interactions with Alear and Veyle na dthe emblems denying it and making it canon taht they are not siblings and that the 2 Sombrons are different being just sharing a name and similiraties : are we a joke to you ?

God I am tired. Seriously ? the twins come from a dimension where Firene loves war, Brodia is the peaceful one, all the characters are complete opposite of their game counterpart, where Alear is not even Sombron's kid nor THE SAME GENDER AS THE ONE CHOOSEN BY THE PLAYER and they still think that Sombron is the same as main game Sombron ??? And we both knew that even if the twins were Lumera's kid, they would still call it incest because Lumera adopted Alear and made them a half divine dragon !! there is no way out.

my God it's insane. People really tries so hard. They went into a full rent over Alear's anatomy despite it being a mystery I mean their are originally a fell child, but then they got breeded with divine blood making Alear a half breed of both dragon's race, then they turn into a zombie and then into a Emblem with their hair being even more chaotic as we have 0 idea if the full blue hair made them full divine dragon or not. Worst, they even wonder if Sombron's DNA is the same in the paralele universe. My GOD JUST LISTEN TO WHAT THE GAME IS SAYING !! There is literaly not a single moment of the alt version speaking without making it clear that they are different people. Never though we could still be broken after all of this yet here we are !!

I totally get being uncomfy with some pairings but does it matter at the end ? Alear and their spouses will still give birth to either a monstruosity of a human child mixed with a mix of divine and fell blood while Alear can have children OP as hell with the twins, a broken monster dragon child with mixed blood while taking into account that Alear also become a mixed of Corrupted x Emblem hence a dead living. Either way we are cursed

Alright I have completed the DLC characters supports. I think it's safe to assume that Alear is to the twins what Rin kagamine is to Len kagamine.

I feel like I must conclude that Alear/the twins is not an incestuous ship but that because people think it is or that it looks like it we are gonna have a whole wave. Yeah never mind that i will soon see Rafal/Alfred fanart blooming when the lad are literally calling themselves brothers, something that Rafal never did with Alear, and that Rafal kind of turned Alt!Alfred into a Corrupted and cause his death... is it double standard ?

Gregory is the only Romantic DLC S Support, these anons onto nothing 😭😭😭😭

This is going to backfire into people saying "would you ship Celine and Alfred just becaus they are not related in another dimension" but yeah it's kinda the idea because Alternate Celine would not be our Alfred's brother so technically it's not the same as shipping the regular Celine with the regular Alfred. except it is with Alear and the twins and that they are never siblings in any dimension and I am feeling depressed writing this because why are we fighting over pixel hooking up ?

Are we gonna talk about how from the twins perspective they are marrying someone they are not related to but is dead in their universe whereas from Alear's perspective they are marrying someone they are not related to but simply did not exist in their universe ?

We literlay went through a DLc were our units could kill counterpart of themselves while getting 3 units who are polar opposite of the one we wanted to have. It can't get any weirder, not even with those fake incestuous support.

I feel like the problem of the game justification if the shippers use it would be to face people who would told them "then why don't you ship the Royals with the alternate version of their siblings" and them being grossed out but the thing is context : the twins keeps denying they are Sombron child and asserts that Sombron and another sombron are different people + they never act as siblings with Alear + the fact taht in both dimensions they are never related. So why this open the door to some pairings I find unsavory like Alcryst/ALt Diamant, it at least would not be real incest... but it is also never real incest because fictional characters are not related to each other unless you are asked to believe so.

The antis are exagerting. God won't send you to hell for liking a "problematic ships".

[jaeger-pups]

Zekeren Modern AU; An emotional confession text from Eren

E: ...... im pissed rn. Like really pissed.

E: are you even awake..?

Z: Sorry, just finished in the shower. You ok?

E: no. No I'm fucking not ok. Im so aggravated

Z: need me to call you? I thought you were going out w/ friends.

E: no dont that'd just make it worse honestly.

Z: ...I'm not understanding, Eren. What's going on?

E: yea I went out. I'm still w everyone but.

Z: so what's the issue? Need me to pick you up? Feeling anxious?

E: idk I'm just...

E: Like fucking irritated. 🙄

Z: I wanna hear you out. Believe me, I do.

Z: but you're not making it easy.

Z: what's bothering you, little brother?

E: ...Can you pls not? 😑

Z: not what?

E: do that?? Don't do the big brother thing rn.

Z: Eren.

Z: seriously. Just tell me what's going on. You can call me if that's easier.

E: ....we're in the restaurant. I don't wanna go outside I feel like it'd be rude.

Z: okay then. 😮‍💨

Z: what's got you so anxious tho?

E: ...you still don't get it by now?? Helos, that's frustrating. 🙄Like you have no idea, Zeke.

Z: i mean it'd be simpler to just let me know if I upset you...

E: you didn't upset me. God do you play this dense on purpose?? there's no way ur not doing it on purpose...

Z: I'm calling you.

E: nonono!!!

E: Don't pls I'm not trying to be difficult or moody im just...

E: I'm out w friends but... idk I guess i just wish I'd have made different plans this weekend.

Z: okay. Nothing wrong w/ that.

E: idk we got around to talking about partners & flings or whatever &...

E: I lied. About seeing someone.

Z: Seems harmless to me.

E: ...it wasn't believable tho. Like at all. I know it wasn't. I feel embarrassed.

Z: Ah, so that's what this is about?

Z: you're 18, Eren. You're really worried someone's gonna hold something like that over your head?

E: I'm *not* seeing anyone tho is the thing.

Z: Plenty of girls are interested in you, little brother. You know it.

Z: lol you just told me last weekend when you were over.

E: yea. and I also told you im... different.

Z: Its not out of the ordinary to be attracted to other men, Eren. We talked about that, too.

E: God you sound like my therapist 😓 pls don't talk like my therapist...

Z: Yelena does a great job w/ you, give her credit 😅and im just saying.

Z: so youre a little uncomfortable out w/ friends after telling a white lie. Take a deep breath. You're working yourself up.

Z: no one's thinking about it that much. I guarantee it's all in your head.

E: maybe ur right but...

E: fuck am I really about to do this...?

Z: do what? If your anxiety's that bad let someone at the table with you know, Eren.

Z: don't need you having a panic attack out there. I'll come pick you up if you need me to. I have no problem w/ that.

E: ...im okay.

E: but um. I have a confession. Like... a major confession.

E: I opened up to Yelena about this a few weeks ago too.

Z: Ok take your time.

E: ......God my hearts pounding. 💀 holy shit

E: why am I doing this? I'm so scared you'll look at me differently.

Z: Eren. Talk to me. At this point I'm concerned.

E: .....

Z: Seriously wth could possibly have you this worked up?

Z: Tell me what it is. I'm not gonna judge you. You've been doing amazing w/ your therapy.

Z: i just don't wanna see you spiral again. You've been doing so well. I mean it. You have.

E: ...I'm in love with you.

E: like real actual love.

E: the fucked up kind of love you shouldn't have for your siblings.

E: or family members at all for that matter. I'm weird. Abnormal as shit. Its been that way since we *met*, Zeke.

E: I can't shake it. I can't fix it. I hate myself.

E: and I was so fucking scared to ask if I could come over this weekend bc I finally opened up to Yelena about it and she didn't have the reaction i thought she would.

E: so I've been confused. And uncomfortable i guess. And I can't believe i told you this like wtfwtfwhyyyyiwannafuckingdieeeee you cannot tell anyone about this.

E: *Anyone*, Zeke. Please.

Z: Eren.

E: Ur creeped out, aren't you?

E: fuck im sorry. I’m so sorry.

E: i never planned to talk about this ever. I’d have taken it to my grave.

Z: Eren.

E: I know it's cringe. I know it's gross. I know I'm fucking weird.

Z: little brother

E: hm..? 😔

Z: it's ok. Calm down

E: *ok??* Zeke this is definitely not ok do you know how long I've had this buried???

E: how much it keeps me from sleeping??

Z: had no idea, honestly. But it's fine.

Z: it doesn't necessarily make me look at you differently either.

E: ...why the hell are you so calm about this? It's always weird when ur calm about things you should definitely lose your shit over.

E: there's nothing normal about your younger brother telling you he's got a crush on you, you absolute perv.😑

Z: I thought you were more paranoid about me having an *adverse* reaction lol

E: no I take it back this is way more odd.😣 i half expected you to get on my case about morals and whatnot

Z: Maybe your brother's just open-minded.

E: ...or something. Idk.

Z: would you rather I snap? Push you away?

E: ...God no. I never thought I'd actually tell you tho. Ever.

Z: doesn't seem like it was healthier keeping it bottled up.

E: it wasn't but... like. What do we do about this? No offense but it's kind of taken a toll.

Z: what's yelena told you?

E: that I should talk to you, ironically.

E: I've never been in love before tho, Zeke. That's how I know it's different. How i know it's not... normal.

Z: Wanna know what I think?

E: ...idk. my hearts still going crazy. Even Jean's noticed how jittery Ive gotten. I can't win.

Z: I don't think you’ve ever really thought about how much you mean to me.

Z: I couldn't let us drift apart over something like this, Eren.

E: but so ur just totally unbothered after finding out I've been struggling w processing this? Pls make it make sense I'm so lost this isn't gonna fix this 😞

E: I know you think you know him better than I do, but dad would *lose* it. Dad would make me see *another* therapist.

Z: I'm not Grisha.

E: Yea, clearly. Still doesn't make me feel like I'm not some kind of freak tho....

Z: why? 😏 doubt I feel the same?

E: ...in all seriousness, could you pls not make light of this? My head literally cannot take it. I've got enough mental shit going on over it

Z: light of it? lol what makes you think I could be so cruel?

Z: you're beautiful, little brother. Men *and* women can see that. People tell you all the time.

E: …I’m all red now. Mikasa just asked who I'm texting.

E: I lied again & told her I'm checking in with mom.🙄 Doesn't seem like it was believable either tho. I give up...

Z: See? You're fucking adorable. 😏

E: Zeeeeke!! 😳shuddup, ur annoying

Z: You are tho. 😅

E: whatever. 😞Stop leading me on. That's what ur doing at this point. Toying w/ me. Amused?

Z: more like endeared lol.

Z: Ever considered whether your big brother may find you pretty?

Z: Interestingly androgynous? Privately enticing?

E: ...Leave me alone. There's no fucking way, liar.

Z: If that's what you think.

E: why wait so fucking long to tell me then if it's true??

E: why hasn't it messed you up as bad as its done me? Plus I've seen the kinds of women you fuck around w/ when you're in Paradis.

E: there's no way you think of me like that.

Z: Maybe I wasn't sure how you'd react. Maybe to me it was never worth letting you know & jeopardizing how close we've gotten if you didn't feel the same way.

Z: Is it proof you need?

E: ...Zeke. Stop.

Z: Are you actually drawing a line or?

Z: You think I'm joking. Fair enough.

Z: I'll pick you up when you guys are finished. Just let me know when.

E: ur... serious? there's no way ur serious o-o

E: I'm so red. I'm gonna *die* zeke pls don't joke around. Armin can drop me off back home it's really not a big deal.....

Z: Stop being ridiculous, Eren. When have i ever told you you couldn't come over? Or dumped you off on someone else to get you home?

E: I just don't like to feel like im demanding attention. Or like I can't do things for myself.

E: Its getting a little late too. No need to make you drive out...

Z: Its fine. I wanna see you ;)

E: ...Really?

Z: Ofc. I was surprised when you told me you had different plans this weekend. Been over here so often lately lol

E: yea. Sorry I switched things up outta nowhere. I just didn't wanna... sulk I guess? Feeling... these feelings.

E: Around you. And being moody. And projective.

Z: Its fine. Glad you opened up.

Z: Take a deep breath. Eat w/ your friends. Big brother heard you. I see you. I understand.

E: Fucking God why are you so nice to me? I don't get it. I'll never get it, Zeke.

E: ....But thank you. Like... a whole fucking lot.

Z: Yw😏Put your phone down & talk to your friends. Call me when you guys are gonna leave. I'll be there.

E: Okay. You're my favorite.

Zeke liked “Okay. You’re my favorite.”

[brekkiebrakkiebreakkie]

What are your best writing tips?

I dont mean how to actually start writing by the way, we all know you cant do that but how to write effectively

thanks, 🍬

....ah, I'm being bullied here as well...

This is so fucking funny, and also not even my writing blog wow.

As for writing effectively? Uhhhhhhh don't? Idk what that means really. There's different types of writing and they're gonna be effective for different things, yknow? If it's a style or a theme or a message you wanna keep in the writing, you have to structure your writing around that from the beginning. And yeah, things like planning, practice(from just writing a lot in volume and variety), and studying (reading things in style/theme/messaging as what you wanna make, as well as thing different to that) will all make it easier and maybe more efficient when in the writing process, just because a solid foundation makes things easy to go off of, but like, does it matter?

For me, it's a hobby. One I neglect for months on end, but a hobby nonetheless. It's for fun, yknow? So there's no point in me learning a proper formula for being consistent or efficient or whatever. I write and I enjoy writing, and I write lots of things, and I don't change the voice I write in because it's basically just my voice and I enjoy myself. Thats why a lot of what I've written is fanfic lol. It's a passion, and that means I wanna do it

Also, just don't edit. The fastest way to write is to write, not edit. Write sentences badly. Make weird dialogue. If it really bothers you highlight/underline it, but write it and forget and go back after at the end because editing is where most of the good™ writing stuff comes out and wyou can't edit without something on the page