#with explainations no one asked for either

[barcaatthemoon]

the high life || barcelona x teen!reader ||

You get caught after accidentally eating an edible at a party.

"Where is (Y/n)?" Vicky was losing her mind. The only way that Aleia had agreed to let either of you go to this party was if you watched out for each other, and Vicky had lost you nearly an hour ago. One moment the two of you were dancing, and the next, Vicky turned to see you had vanished. That wasn't like you, so Vicky was really starting to freak out the longer that you were gone. "(Y/n)!"

"Vicky, hi." It was obvious that something was very wrong with you. Vicky supported you as she led you outside and away from all the commotion of the house party. Someone would be by any moment now to pick the two of you up, and Vicky hoped that it was someone cool. Vicky didn't know what you could have taken or been given, but it was obvious that you were on something.

"Oh god, I am so dead," Vicky groaned.

"No you're not, we're so alive Vicky. We're alive, and it's beautiful!" you shouted. Vicky facepalmed, wondering if this was how Alexia felt constantly babysitting the younger girls. You were a couple of months younger than Vicky, but a whole year behind her in school. Still, the two of you were close, often being referred to as the "terror twins" of the team.

"We are both so cooked. Hey, (Y/n), I need you to do me a favor and calm down, please. Someone is coming to pick us up, and you don't want to get in trouble, do you?" Vicky asked you. You still seemed to be off in your own little world until you saw Frido's car pull up. Vicky supposed that she could work with Frido, it was better than Alexia. Anybody was better than Alexia with the state you were in, or at least that was what Vicky originally thought.

"Fridolina, oh my god, you're so pretty. I hope that I get a girlfriend as pretty as you one day," you said as you threw yourself into her passenger seat. Vicky sat silently in the backseat, hopeful that Frido wouldn't question her. "If I was older, do you think I could be your girlfriend?"

"(Y/n), shut up!" Vicky hissed from the backseat. You turned to glare at her, very unhappy with how shitty of a wingwoman she was being for you. "Please take us home now."

"Is there anything that you two want to tell me?" Frido asked as she glanced between you and Vicky. Vicky shrunk back shamefully, unsure of how to explain that you had disappeared during the party and Vicky had only just found you in your current state. "Did either of you eat or drink something you weren't supposed to? Perhaps smoked something, even?"

"I'd never smoke, it's bad for you. I just had one of the little snacks they had set out. I'm not a professional, but that was one shitty baker. Those cookies tasted like dirt," you rambled. Frido's eyes widened as she looked solely at Vicky. "Oh, wait, I saved you one. You were dancing for a long time, but then I came back to the dance floor and you were gone. Here you go."

"Nope, I'll take that," Frido said as she snatched the cookie from your hands. You frowned and pouted at the Swede, who seemed unphased. Vicky knew then and there that the two of you were not going back to Vicky's for a sleepover. Vicky was dropped off at her house, but you went home with Frido, who made Vicky promise to come into practice early tomorrow for a meeting.

…

"No, surely you cannot be talking about my Chiqui," Mapi scoffed as Frido filled her and Ingrid in on the situation. You were still fast asleep in Frido's bed. It had been a hassle to say the least to get you to sleep last night. Vicky hadn't taken anything, so after a phone call with Alexia, the other girl had been let off the hook for the time being. You, on the other hand, were practically dead to the world still. "Jesus Christ."

"Mapi, what are you doing?" Ingrid asked as her girlfriend stormed towards Frido's bedroom. Just as Mapi began to make her way down the hallway, you walked out of Frido's bedroom. You looked absolutely miserable, experiencing your very hangover of any type. Your head was pounding, your body felt exhausted, and your mouth had never been so dry before.

"Where do you think you're going you little junkie?" Mapi asked as you just pushed past her. You continued to ignore her as you poured yourself a glass of water and walked into the living room. You sat down on the couch and tried to curl into yourself, but Mapi was relentless with you. "I tell your Mami that I'll look after you, and this is what you do? Just you wait until Alexia gets over here, you are in so much trouble! I cannot believe you would do such a thing. I mean, you are supposed to be representing your town. What kind of example are you set-,"

"Enough, shut up!" you shouted. It was immediately obvious that was absolutely the wrong thing to do. Mapi's fists balled up as she just stormed out of Frido's apartment. Ingrid looked torn between chasing after Mapi and giving her space. Frido looked at you with a disappointed look, one that made your chest hurt just as badly as Mapi's words had.

"She was just upset because she cares about you," Ingrid said coldly. You quickly looked between the both of them before you got up and tried to run off. You made it all the way to the parking lot before you saw Mapi and Alexia talking to each other. You tried to turn around, but Ingrid was right behind you. There was nowhere for you to go, so you just gave up and sat down on the sidewalk.

"Ah, there she is! I bet you thought that you could make a quick break, didn't you?" Immediately, Mapi was in on you again. This time, you weren't left to be yelled at and berated. Much to your surprise, Alexia was the one who stepped in to stop things.

"Hey, calm down. Go with Ingrid, and let me talk to her. She's not going to say anything with you going at her like that," Alexia reasoned. Mapi huffed and puffed, but went to Ingrid anyway. "I hear you had a very adventurous night."

"It was an accident. How could I have known what was in those cookies?" you asked. Alexia sighed as she looked down at you. For the first time in a while, you looked just like you had at your first practice with the senior team. You had done a lot of growing up, but Alexia was reminded how young you really were. You were young, but didn't have the chance to be a normal teenager and make mistakes like everyone else.

"Like you said, it was an accident. You're smart, and you know what's at stake here, so this isn't something you would do on purpose in season. Maria cares about you, and she's scared of what could happen if the club decides to drug test you. You'll be looking at a suspension at best, but you know that already."

"Yeah, I do," you confirmed. Alexia sighed as she glanced at the lobby where Ingrid and Mapi seemed to be fighting. "I can just go back home, I guess. I've caused enough problems already. I don't deserve to be here."

"Yes, you do. You've worked hard, even more than any of us really know. So, when the time comes, you'll take your punishment and work on resecuring your spot. There will be apologies and lots of hard conversations, but none of us want to see you go, not even Maria," Alexia reassured you.

…

"Why don't you go over there and talk to her?" Ingrid asked. Mapi had been watching you for weeks. Your suspension and probationary period were over, and you had yet to even attempt to speak with Mapi yet. It had been radio silence between the two of you since that day at Frido's apartment. Ingrid was tired of it, especially since she could see how badly it was hurting both of you.

"Because she doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. I yelled at her, made her feel like nothing. I've never apologized," Mapi said. She felt an almost overwhelming amount of shame every single time that she looked at you. It felt impossible to go over and talk to you. "She won't even look at me. I lost my Chiqui."

"Don't tell me that you're afraid of a 17 year old girl," Ingrid laughed. Mapi sputtered and stammered, but made no attempt to argue with Ingrid. She was afraid of you, afraid that you wouldn't accept any apologies that she could muster up. Mapi had been so mean to you that morning, and she would have kept going if you hadn't stopped her. She didn't even mean any of it, she was just scared and angry.

"She is almost 18 now," Mapi grumbled. Ingrid rolled her eyes and whistled to get your attention. There weren't that many people in the gym left now, just the three of you.

"Chiqui, Maria wants to talk to you," Ingrid said. She walked over to the door and blocked it, meaning neither of you could leave until you talked to each other.

"I am sorry for yelling at you. I don't think you're a disappointment to your home or your Mami," Mapi started. She seemed a bit lost, like she was completely out of her depth. "You made a mistake and that's okay. I've made mistakes, and I should have shown you the same kindness that I had been shown. One day, you might be in my position, and trust me, it's easier to forgive than hold a grudge."

"I'm sorry that I yelled at you," you apologized. Mapi didn't even wait for you to finish before she was rushing over to hug you. You let her pick you up off the ground, even if she was hugging a little too tight. "Put me down now, please."

"Bagheera misses you, so you need to come back with us immediately," Mapi said. You knew that it wasn't just Bagheera who missed you, especially since Ingrid had been bringing you over secretly while Mapi worked on her little passion projects and hobbies. Bagheera had been seeing you at least once a month, but Mapi hadn't really spoken to you in almost three monhs, and it had been driving her crazy.

"I'll have to ask Alexia," you told her. Mapi brushed it off, already having been told by Alexia to fix things with you countless times. The team didn't feel right without Mapi's influence on you.

[alchemistc]

He likes occupying the same space as Tommy. It's - every time he looks across a room and sees him he just wants all the space between them to disappear. And - okay - yeah - Tommy has, like occupied space inside of Buck so there's - there's a little Pavlovian tic somewhere in the goo Tommy's smile can turn his brain into but also -

He likes the way it feels when they're side by side - naked or clothed - and Tommy arches his shoulder to smack it into Buck's. He likes the way his eyes dart, when they're breathing the same air and he's thinking about kissing Buck - which is a look he relishes now as much for the knowledge that he's about to be kissed as for the knowledge that he'd seen this look a half dozen times before they ever got to the kissing part. He likes the way Tommy occupies Buck's space - never overbearing but always close, close, close like if Buck asked they'd melt pieces of themselves and stick them together before everything cooled back down. He likes the way they can't quite hold hands without their arms brushing, and the way Tommy ducks his head when Buck exaggerates a flirty head tilt.

He likes a lot of things about Tommy.

He likes the way he grudgingly enters a gay bar because it's not really his scene and ends the night with a drag queens feather boa wrapped around his neck while he sings the Gaga parts of Shallow even if he gets a little pitchy.

He likes the way Tommy boops his nose, out of the blue while he's listening to Buck explain something that has no bearing on either one of them or the thing they're working towards together - still listening with rapt attention but also a little devastatingly charmed by Buck's rambles, of all things.

He likes the way his nose scrunches up when he laughs, soft and genuine, the way when he's really feeling it the ears draw back too.

He likes the way he sounds, that first time (and every time after) Buck found his prostate and he whined like a fucking siren.

He likes the way his face softens even when he's tired, worn around the edges as Buck flings a sock into his laundry basket and tucks his head up under Tommy's chin.

He hates the way Tommy shuts down every time Buck tries to bring up the future.

And it's not like - it's not like Buck isn't aware they'd sort of speed run some milestones. House keys swapped with the sort of flippancy you'd expect out of two guys whose schedules rarely lined up. A drawer in Bucks's loft for the clothes Tommy always left behind, because for some reason he liked to fling them over the balcony instead of stuff them back in his overnight bag. A toothbrush at Tommy's a month and a half in, which wouldn't be all that strange except for he'd gone out of his way to buy the same electric one Buck had in his bathroom vanity. The pin to each others phones, swapped and repeated until it was muscle memory and three weeks ago Buck had grabbed the wrong phone but he'd seen the lock screen of the two of them from their hike in Fern Dell and he'd punched the code in like it was rote before he'd even been fully awake.

Tommy'd hit a wall, though, the first time Buck brought up his lease. And it wasn't - Buck isn't always the best about understanding the shit going on in his own head, but he actually hadn't been going any particular direction there, it'd just been something to fill the lull that had popped in his head and -

Of course, when Tommy froze the fuck up Buck decided to poke at it like a particularly nasty yellowing bruise.

Kids - not his own, just the nebulous idea of them. (Tommy shifted to a conversation about cars so smoothly it'd taken Buck half an hour to notice.)

Marriage - not his own thoughts about it, just that Bobby and Athena had an anniversary coming up and man didn't it suck that Maddie and Chim never got the wedding they wanted and he'd gone to one once in Montana and it'd been in a barn and they'd had candles in Mason jars for their centerpieces before that was the thing to do. (Tommy booped his nose and scrunched his face and held out a ladle of tomato sauce for Buck to try and - son of a bitch he'd known it needed more acid and that Buck would get distracted with recipe talk.)

Homes - the idea of them. Tommy's century old ranch style rental and how it fit him, Bobby and Athena's hunt for a new home, how quiet Eddie's always felt without Chris there, and Tommy had spent an hour listing off all the things he'd fixed up for his landlady and the rent she'd been stubbornly stuffing back through his mail slot every time she found out exactly how much the labor alone for a full copper repipe cost.

So it's.

He's just.

He hates that he's about to do this, here, with his ankle hooked by Tommy's toes under the table at Micelli's when they're supposed to be enjoying six months but he's been on edge for weeks now and he's - God he wants this to work but if Tommy doesn't want to talk future then are they just gonna spend their whole lives stumbling into the next milestone? He doesn't want -

"I had something I wanted to ask -," Tommy starts, right as Buck opens his big mouth and blurts, "I want kids and that's kind of a deal breaker for me."

Tommy blinks.

Buck blinks back.

Not much better than Hot Chicks, as far as Buck is concerned. But Tommy's mouth quirks at the corners, and he jiggles his toes against the back of Buck's ankle, and -

Tommy blows out a breath. "Oh thank God."

"What?"

So he's -

Buck's confused.

"You've been fishing for months now and I thought you were..." Tommy grimaces. When he leans forward to reach for Buck's hand, his arms are tense and his fingers are clumsy. "I thought we'd gone too fast and you were throwing us in reverse and stepping on the gas."

"What," Buck says again, and rewinds.

Kids: where he'd tried to drop the bomb that there was one out in the world who already had half his genetic code and then blazed along to talk about how Chris was his favorite person in the world and Maddie had struggled with Jee and the whole foster debacle made him terrified of all the stress involved in state sanctioned parenthood.

Marriage: where he'd made some dumb joke about how many marriages ended in divorce and then reminded Tommy how much he hated the fact that weddings cost like a third of a years salary, and then told a horrendous anecdote about the way Eddie had asked Buck to come by one night after Shannon only to find him keyed up out back, with the fire pit going and Shannon's things still tucked into their plastic bag on a stool right next to it.

Home: where he'd told Tommy the house in Hershey was like a prison and he'd never felt more himself than wandering the continent trying to find himself and how the loft was suffocatingly open and of the two places where he always felt welcome, one had burned down and the other had been missing an occupant for so long it had felt sad and oppressive.

Foot in mouth Buckley.

"I brought up my lease and you looked like you were trying to figure out if you could hurdle three tables in one leap to get to the door."

Tommy groans. It's. Buck wants to be annoyed by it but he's charmed as ever.

"That - I did do that."

"So. I'm just. Tommy, I..." Because he's given himself time to think about it, since then, and he really doesn't want to re-up his lease but he's also not sure where to go from here.

"It wasn't what you're thinking, though," Tommy says, and there's a wry tilt to his grin. "Irene wants to sell me the house," he continues, and - there's got to be a point, here.

"Okay."

He likes that house. The lived in feel, the easy walk to a little public market where Buck can always find something healthy and Tommy can always come home with a growler of some new craft beer, the avocado tree in the yard and the renovations Tommy has spent half a decade on.

"When you brought it up I'd just spent two weeks trying to convince myself it was too early to ask you if you wanted to sign up for a mortgage with me."

Six months. A redo of their first embarrassing date. The wine, instead of pitchers of beer. I had something I wanted to ask -

"I want to be married, someday," Buck says, and Tommy's thumb skitters over his wrist. "And - the kid thing. That's still a deal breaker."

Tommy nods. Maybe not a surprise, but - still. That feels important.

"I still don't understand equity," Buck says, and Tommy. Tommy laughs.

"I can teach you," he says, and Buck swallows. He wants to call the waitress over, ask for too many canolli because Tommy's sweet tooth is a tyrant and Buck is still mystified by how he manages to always be so trim despite the amount of sugar he consumes.

Buck narrows his eyes. "How long a mortgage?"

He has a settlement from the city that's just been sitting around, mocking Buck for years. It'd make a good dent even with LA real estate. Tommy smiles. "Oh, 30 years, for sure, but we could refinance at least a few times."

"That's - a long time."

"Housing bubble might pop soon, and then we'd just be stuck in it."

"It's good we both have dependable government jobs."

Tommy's eyes crinkle, but his face gets serious after a moment. "Evan."

"Ask me."

Maddie's gonna fucking flip, Buck thinks. Eddie is definitely gonna give him a side eye. Bobby - Bobby will get it, probably.

Tommy hums. "You wanna share the tiramisu?" His grin is just this side of teasing, and Buck knocks a knee into his in retaliation. His eyes go soft and warm. "You wanna buy a house with me, Buckley?"

[ozzgin]

Hellöchen popöchen

I hope no one has asked this before, but does your Rent-A-Monster offer study motivation?

Either a tutor, that can teach me the stuff I have to learn or maybe a monster that will just force me to sit my ass down and study. They could reward me with a "good boy" and I'd probably melt, trying to study even better next time I rent them, just to make them proud again and hear them call me a good boy,,

Maybe I could also get motivated by the monster with the promise of,,, certain rewards 👀✨

Anyway, I have to study for exams and I just can't seem to really do it well and I think that a big hot monster would find a way to motivate me hhh

Hope you're doing well :D -🌚

The hallöchen gave me violent flashbacks from my German uni WhatsApp group 😭

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, NSFW

Monster!Tutor has been tasked to help you with your homework and studies. Despite, well, his monstrous appearance, he is soft spoken and polite. You found it rather comical to be greeted by an unholy beast as he clumsily adjusted his glasses, sheepishly welcomed you in and asked if you’d prefer tea or coffee.

Monster!Tutor couldn’t ask for a better student. You make him so proud, and he loves taking his time with you. He’ll praise every achievement, no matter how little, as well as your efforts. He knows you’re trying. That’s all that matters, really. For everything else, you can rely on him. You can count on him to support his favorite little human.

Monster!Tutor is determined to have you succeed at all costs. He’s noticed your dusted cheeks whenever you glance in his direction, or the way you twiddle your fingers when he comes nearby. Thus, he’s decided to use it to his advantage. “Oh, you can just sit here instead”, he’ll suggest cheekily, patting his lap. “I didn’t quite hear you”, he’ll say with a grin, pressing his large, clawed hands onto your shoulders and lowering himself close to your face. “Care to repeat?”

Monster!Tutor might have gotten a little too involved in the game he’s devised for your academic success. He yearns to see your flustered expression, so much that he forgot his original intent. It is only when he’s tracing your bare skin, gazing upon your heaving, used body, that he suddenly remembers. “The homework, of course!”, he’ll mumble, embarrassed by his lack of professionalism. “Perhaps I should…clean you up first.”

Monster!Tutor needs you to succeed, because he craves the reward as much as you do, maybe more. Won’t you bring a good result home? Then he can have his way with you again, until you’re a drooling mess and can’t even form coherent sentences anymore. Don’t worry, he’ll explain everything to you, as many times as needed. Besides, cheating is allowed every now and then.

“Do you even need to wear glasses?” you asked once, intrigued by his bizarre choice.

“Not really, no. I hoped to look more human-like for you. Does it work?”

“Uh…sure” you nod, holding back a chuckle.

[reyadawn]

Heart of Glass -

Part 2

📸 Bryan Kirks

Summary: Noah doesn't do relationships. He does "situationships". He isn't one to be tied down to one woman but what happens when his best friend admits her feelings for him? Will he change the error of his ways or fall back into bad habits?

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x reader

Warnings: 🔞+, angst, friends-to-lovers trope, language, kissing, choking, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids!), creampie - DO NOT READ IF UNDER 18

Word Count: 🤷‍♀️🤭

Enjoy! ❤️😅

Part 1 can be found HERE

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I had probably acted immaturely by leaving Noah to his own devices but I was beyond pissed. I was furious. Furious at myself for falling for his boy-ish charm, how his large muscular frame towers over me and makes me feel safe, his dark eyes that pierce my soul, his full lips that were made for kissing, and knowing full well how he doesn't do relationships. I fell into the same fucking jungle as all the other women.

I had cut off communication with him, not ready to face him and have him tell me that we can't be best friends anymore or that what we did was a mistake.

I was sitting in the center of the livingroom, my draft for my Power Point arranged in front of me. Baylan and Magenta took up residence at opposite ends of the sectional, text books laid out between them. My phone suddenly vibrated from the coffee table and I glanced up, dropping the papers I was holding. Baylan and Magenta exchanged looks. I reached for my phone, Nicholas' face appearing for a FaceTime call. I answered without hesitation.

Somehow Jolly and Nick ended up cramming themselves into frame, too. It was almost laughable to see three fully grown men try and fit themselves into a FaceTime call but I smiled nonetheless.

"Hello, gents. How art thou?", I said, propping the phone against a half empty bottle of wine.

"We need you to come here", Jolly whispered, cupping his hand around his mouth.

"Oh my God, who died?", I asked. Baylan and Magenta burst into hysterics and I shot them a look over the table.

"No one, why? We need your help with Noah. He hasn't been himself in weeks since your last encounter. He needs help. We can't reach him and we don't know what to do", Nicholas explained. I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. In truth I wasn't sure what help I could offer either. I turned to my friends and they both nodded.

"Go on. We'll be here to finish up with research, see what else we can add. You need to see him. You know how he gets", Baylan said, taking a sip of wine. Magenta nodded, offering me a smile of reassurance.

"Give me an hour, gents", I said ending the call. I sighed again.

"You need to clear the air with this. Just remember, you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink. All you can do is tell him...in the end you have to be okay with his decision. Hang in there. We'll be here when you get back", Magenta stated. I nodded and stood, making my way upstairs to change out of my pyjamas - clock time was 10:56PM.

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Walking up the sidewalk to Noah's felt like I was walking through molasses. My legs and my heart felt heavy. I had no idea how I was going to start this conversation and I was honestly terrified he would kick me out.

I stepped inside slowly. The large two story house was quiet and the air was thick with Frankensence. A ghost of a smile touched my lips as I set my purse on the couch, toeing off my flats. I padded barefoot in my leggings and oversized Bad Omens hoodie I stole from the boys' Warped tour, heading up the stairs; still no sign of anyone. What the hell?

I went down the hall, passed Matt's room, a faint glow coming from under the door and distant voices could be heard. No doubt he was engrossed in a movie or video games. Davis suddenly emerged from the bathroom, dark and blonde streaked hair tucked neatly behind his ears and smiled warmly at me.

"Hey, princess, how goes the night?", he asked. I stared at him and simply blinked, not really knowing how to respond. "Go easy on the guy...he's pretty broken". He then disappeared into his own room. I approached Noah's door and knocked, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Go the fuck away, goddamn...", I heard Noah snap. I shot the door a dark look. Broken my fucking ass, to hell with this shit. I barged in, slamming the door behind me. Noah was sitting at his desk, cat ear headphones on his head and whirled around. "What the fuck?!"

"What the fuck indeed, Noah! Get the hell off discord!", I shouted. Noah's facial expression went from pissed to shocked as he removed his headset and tossed it down on his desk. He then quickly closed out of the discord chat he was in and stomped over to me, stopping a mere few inches from my feet. He glared down at me, nostrils flaring. He really was quite intimidating when he was mad though I knew he'd never raise a hand to me.

"You wanna' explain to me what gives you the right to just barge into my fucking room unannounced?!", Noah barked. I almost flinched at his clipped tone of voice.

"I had the right the minute you became my best friend. Even more so when you railed me into oblivion in my fucking kitchen", I shot back hotly. Noah smirked and I rolled my eyes, turning to leave but his hand latched around my wrist, spinning me back towards him.

"Please don't leave", he whispered, surprising me by sinking to his knees in front of me. He wrapped his long arms around my waist, his face nuzzling my stomach. My fingers automatically threaded themselves into his dark locks. "Please don't leave me again...I need you in ways that terrify me".

Untangling his arms from around my waist, I sunk to the floor with him, cupping my hands around his face. His dark eyes roamed my face for a few seconds before filling with tears and he sniffled.

"Oh, Noah...", my voice trailed. "Tell me how to help you...what do I do? What do you need?".

"You...it's always been you. I've been in love with you since the day we met but our friendship was so strong, I didn't want to ruin it by fucking you. I fucked other women because I couldn't live with myself if I ever screwed up so badly that you'd walk away. A woman like you should be made love to. Not fucked. You should be cherished and loved. I'm not worthy enough to give you that", he said. My breath caught in my throat at his declaration and my own eyes stung with tears.

"Noah...", I whispered. He looked at me, eyes red rimmed. "You're the only one who has ever been worthy". His eyes went wide, pupils dialated with need. He brought his hands to my hair, fisting the strands as his lips collided with mine. The kiss was all teeth and tongues and we only stopped for breath as we pulled at articles of clothing in the desperate need to be naked.

Noah picked me up bridal style and gently layed me down on his bed, his cool sheets causing my skin to ripple with goosebumps. He lowered himself to steal another kiss, this one different. It was so soft, so gentle that my eyes stung. He seemed to have that effect on me a lot. His lips left mine to plant kisses down the column of my throat, my collar bone, down to my breasts where he sucked and licked them until I was a writhing mess beneath him.

"Patience, pretty girl...I know what you need", Noah said, chuckling softly, raining more kisses down my body. He layed between my thighs, kissing and kneading my flesh, my entire body sizzling with need. Noah lowered his head, gently swiping his tongue through my soaked folds, lips wrapping around my clit to gently suck. My hips nearly shot off the bed at the pleasure that ran through my veins, my brain melting. Adding two long fingers into my wet heat had me nearly coming undone as I fisted his hair. A few pumps of his fingers while sucking my clit harder had my orgasm causing me to see stars.

Noah planted open mouthed kisses back up my body, caging my head in his hands as he lowered himself on top of me. His weight was warm and heavy and I spread my thighs, holding him to me, as his cock slowly filled and stretched my now dripping pussy.

I tried to close my eyes at the immense pleasure of his cock slowly dragging out of my body only to plunge back inside. It was agonizingly slow. Torturous. Every drag and thrust of his cock stroked over nerve endings and my body was on the verge of snapping.

Words weren't needed. There was only the feeling of Noah deep inside my body and the warmth as he unloaded rope after thick rope of hot come. I screamed as my orgasm hit, damn near causing me to black out.

"Mine", Noah whispered against my skin. He chanted it over and over again, as if he were afraid it wouldn't be so unless he said it aloud.

I was always his..

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@concreteemo @concreteangel92 @anangelinthepit @aubrey-melinoe @sorrowsofsilence @somebodyllelse @somewhere-diamond @iamamatus @jojomiwbvb6 @jilliemiw86 @iluvmewwwww75 @kaliforniahigh @lilhobgobbler @like-a-omen @bloodylullaby @fadingintothegrey @philomenie @english-fucker

Sorry if I missed anyone ❤️❤️❤️

[pedrilcvr]

you could do one where cubarsi sees the reader as someone very serious and intelligent so he thinks he has no chance with her but in fact he does

Either way — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being on opposite sides of the spectrum when it came to school, you being an honors student and he just an athlete, Pau assumed there was no chance with you. Little did he know, you’d been watching him for a while.

Disclaimer/s: this is a highschool AU! Just fluff tho <3

A/N: oh highschool au’s you always get me sooo good

Study hall was quite possibly your favorite time of the day. All alone and focused, you couldn’t ask for anything better. Except today. Today that was ruined. You’d been assigned to a partner project and that meant study hall was no longer just for your use.

The only upside seemed to be that your partner was Pau. He was cute, you had a small crush on him for a while now. But for some reason, every time you tried to talk to him, he would just stare at you and say as little amount of words as possible. Like he couldn’t stand being in your vicinity.

Clicking your pen nervously, you impatiently wait for him to join you. Forty minutes for study hall, and he’d already waisted fifteen of that by not showing up. You were just about to take out your other textbooks and focus on other work, when he finally decided to show.

He was breathless, like he’d just ran across the school to get here. Pau slides into the seat across from you, “sorry, I forgot.” He explains through pants.

“Forgot? Are you kidding me?” With your annoyance clear, you wave him off. “Whatever, you’re here now.”

As Pau gives you a sheepish look, unpacking his supplies, you glance over the options your teacher had provided. “So… what’d you want to do? For the project I mean? We have like seventy options.”

The brunette’s eyebrows furrow as he looks at the paper you’d shoved toward him. “Uh, I don’t care.”

Is this a joke.

“You don’t care about the project or what we choose?” Your eyes narrow in his direction, eyebrows pinching together.

“No!” He says quickly, eyes widening as he sees your face contort, “I mean yes! I do care, I just, you can choose.” He’s stumbling over his words, nothing like the calm, collected athlete you imagined he was.

Amusement flickers across your face, and Pau instantly relaxes. “Okay.. jeez. We could go for a lame topic and get an easy A, or we could take our time and do something cool and ensure an A-plus.” You’re talking to yourself more than you are him, but Pau listens intently anyways.

“Whatever you want.” He shrugs, eyes flickering across your concentrative face. Your bottom lip tugs between your teeth as you reread the topics, eyebrows scrunched together as you do so.

Pau couldn’t stop the familiar tug in his stomach while watching you. You and him were so opposite, but he supposed that’s what he liked about you.

He was never that good when it came to school, just enough to keep him in sports and his parents good graces. But you.. you were top of the class, had been since primary school.

There was a problem with that though. Girls like you rarely, if ever, went for guys like him. Most of the smart kids in the school went for the other smart kids. Athletes and scholars never really intermingled. Different friend groups and everything.

He definitely had no shot.

“Pau?” You were waving your hand in front of his face, “earth to Pauu?”

He’d been so caught up in his thoughts, in staring, he hadn’t realized you were talking to him. His face burns a bright red. “Sorry, what?”

Quirking an eyebrow, you give him a weird look. “I asked if you wanted to do it on the history of our spanish football team, since that would be easy for you? I mean, you have played for them haven’t you?” There’s a hint of teasing in your words that has Pau swooning even more. You really were perfect.

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” He agrees, giving you a small smile. “You like football?”

You didn’t really want to stray away from getting work done, but it was Pau. Who were you to resist? “My dad and siblings do, i’m not very well educated on it though.” You set your pen aside, crossing your arms on the table. “So, for once, maybe someone will know more about a topic than I do!”

He laughs at that, his gummy smile making an appearance. The same smile that first caught your eyes and had him on your mind ever since.

“I guess so.” A pause, in which neither of you speak. Both wanting to continue a conversation, but neither knowing what to say.

Clearing your throat, you sit upright. “So, I guess we’ll be stuck together for a while. We should figure out when to work on this, I know you kind of have a busy schedule.. I don’t mind doing most of the work either.” You said it like you were used to it, like it was expected, and that made Pau frown.

“I mean, we could go to each other’s houses, or meet up somewhere outside of school when i’m free?” He suggests, somewhat nervous though. His fingers tap the desk, his eyes watching the movements before flickering back to you.

He watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears and check the time on your phone. “Yeah, that’d work.”

Now or never Pau…

“Can I get your number?” He asks quickly, going to add on that he would be needing it to contact you, but for some reason he doesn’t.

You blush, knowing why he needed it, but a small part of you that’d been waiting for him to ask that for years, couldn’t help but ache. “Yeah—yeah!” You go to dig out your phone as Pau slid his across the table for you. You exchange devices, taking his in your hands.

Quickly typing in your number and name in, you give it back to him. He hands you yours and a smile creeps onto your face.

Pau 🤗😇

“Were the emoji’s necessary?” You chuckle, looking up at his triumphant face.

“Absolutely.” He nods with full certainty, a lopsided grin on his face, turning nervous as he opens his mouth once again, “ah, you can text me whenever, like.. not just for school.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “oh? Like… in a friendly way or—“

“If you want to hang out!” He says hastily, sinking back into his seat awkwardly. “Said that too fast.” He mumbles under his breath, quiet enough that you only made out a fraction of what he said.

Fiddling with your phone, you give him a pursed lipped smile. “You want to hang out with me? Outside of school?” Doubt creeped into your mind the longer you thought about it. There was no way Pau Cubarsí was telling you he wanted to hang out with you of all people.

It’s Pau’s time to be confused. The way your face contorted, the way you asked, you sounded like you couldn’t believe he’d ask you that. “Yeah. Do you not want to or something?”

“No! No, of course I do. Uhm, I just, well i’m surprised, that’s all.” You shrug it off, “‘course i’d want to hang out with you.”

Pau feels his confidence boost back, “you’re surprised? Why..?”

Confusion bounces off both of you guys in that moment. “Well you’re like.. super popular and stuff. And we’ve like, never spoken so I just assumed you weren’t the type to be friends with me.”

The boys eyebrows tug together, his forehead creasing. “I thought you wouldn’t want to hang out with me because you’re smart and always serious and stuff.” His tongue darts out to lick his lips, a shameful flush passing across his cheeks.

Your face twists with hilarity. This was very interesting to say the least. “So we were both judging each other essentially?”

“I guess so,” Pau laughs quietly, “then i’m going to rephrase what I said earlier. Would you like to hang out, outside of school. Get coffee or watch a movie?”

“That sounds like a date.” You note, leaning forward to rest your chin in your palms. A small smile growing on your lips.

Pau feigns to think, his lips pursing ever so slightly and he mimics your movements. “Only if you want it to be.”

With a smile reaching your eyes, you nod. “I think I could get on board with that idea.”

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[gguk-n]

Heart On The Grid (Min Yoongi x Sebastian Vettel's God Daughter!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Y/N was Sebastian Vettel's God Daughter. It came with a lot of benefits; like she practically grew up in racing. She was karting by the time she was 3 and winning races by the time she was 5. She wanted to be like Beb, she could't pronounce his name properly yet but Sebastian was and is her biggest inspirations. That's how she ended up on the paddock. All the drivers would fret and coo over her. She had the entire grid wrapped around her finger. The drivers would be at her beck and call; if Y/N was hot and uncomfortable they had ice and cold juices and ice-cream ready for her, if Y/N was cold, they would either remove their own sweaters or have an extra pair for her ready. She wasn't only her dad's princess but the entire Formula One's driver line ups.

She would interrupt most drivers during their media interviews who would just smile at her, lift her up and continue on with their interview as if it was the most natural thing. You would find a lot of old interviews of drivers with baby Y/N in their arms but as soon as she would spot her Beb, she would scream for him to come over and take her. Most drivers didn't let her off with a bit of a fight with Sebastian since they wanted to hold her. She was smart, she would talk to them like her parents talked to her; "Nando, I'm going with Beb now. I'll be okay. You do questions and then we can tuddle" she would explain slowly climbing into Sebastian arms who would be smirking at Fernando who was glaring at him.

Whenever she would be gone for school or her karting races, the paddock felt empty. There weren't random stickers stuck to their cars or extra ice-creams lying around. Even the interviewers would miss her since she would give an interview with Sebastian during media day. But most of all, Sebastian would miss his tiny shadow.

Sebastian would try to be there for her karting races as much as he could and she would always talk about Sebastian when she would be interviewed on who was her favourite driver. "So, Y/N, can you tell us who your favourite driver is?" the child interviewer asked. "It's Mark Webber, don't tell Sebastian though" she would tease while looking at him. Sebastian never took it too seriously, what pained him was she was growing up and had out grown her Beb. She wouldn't be as overtly affectionate as she was.

As she grew older, her visits to the paddock decreased with school and her interest shifting from racing to academics and then she started university. It was in University when she was pursuing her masters when she met Yoongi on her exchange programme in Seoul, South Korea. She had gone there to earn a new experience and returned with the sweetest boyfriend. Back then BTS had just started finding their footing in the industry and breaking out even in the west. With all the dating issue in K-Pop and with both their busy schedules, they kept their relationship on the down low. Sebastian was just happy his god-daughter hadn't bought some random man home.

Until one fateful day, Y/N had invited everyone to her house. Her reasoning; she wanted them to meet someone special. Both her father and Sebastian were dreading the day. Y/N cheerfully greeted her parents and Sebastian and his wife, Hannah. Her mother and Hannah were thrilled to hear that she was dating someone; and said someone was currently in the kitchen preparing the dinner. "He cooks?" her mother whispered looking at the man in the kitchen's back. "yes" she smiled looking at Yoongi lovingly. "You guys should sit down" she commented pointing at the sofa. Yoongi came out of the kitchen and greeted everyone. Sebastian and her dad were eyeing the poor boy like he had committed arson. "Hello sir. It's nice to meet you" he greeted her father. "I'm a huge fan, nice to meet you sir" Yoongi said shaking Sebastian's hand who had a vice grip on his but Yoongi just smiled and stood there.

The dinner began with out a hitch until they started interrogating Yoongi and the moment he said he lived in Seoul, you could hear the wheels in their head rotating; "Our Y/N isn't moving to Seoul. It's too far away. You can't have her, sorry, but she's ours." the two men screamed. "I'm no ones" Y/N said exasperated. "She's an adult darling, she knows what she's doing" her mother interjected. "But...but" her father tried to reason while Sebastian was shut up by his wife with a glare from across the table.

They finished the dinner without anymore interruptions. "Sir" Yoongi began looking at her father, Y/N was busy catching up with Hannah to notice, "I promise to take good care of her. She is the most important thing to me in my life. I promise to always make her happy and never let her cry. I really love your daughter. Will you let me marry her?" he asked. Both of the men sighed, they looked at each other before her father started speaking; "We can't tell her what to do, but if you really mean everything you said, then we will support her. But if you do anything to hurt her" "I will run you over with my car" Sebastian cut him off. Yoongi smiled, "Never, wouldn't even dream of it" he said.

Once everyone had filed out, at the door her father hugged her and whispered in her ear, "He's okay I guess." he lamented. "I wished you dated someone I knew so I could keep an eye on him but he's okay too I guess" Sebastian said begrudgingly as he hugged her good-bye.

Y/N had gone to South Korea to see Yoongi off for his military enlistment. It was the night before he was supposed to start and the pair were laying in each others embrace as Y/N peppered kissed once in a while across his face. "I love you" she stated. "I love you too" he replied suddenly sitting up. "Y/N, you make me the happiest I've ever been. I didn't think someone else could make me feel this way other than music. Will you do me the honour and marry me?" he asked now on his knee. She was in tears and could only nod. Yoongi slipped the beautiful ring on her finger and pecked her lips. "I love you. Can't wait to spend forever with you" he stated in her embrace. "me neither" she hummed as they stayed like that for a little longer since when the sun rose Yoongi would be gone, fulfilling his duty.

[amywritesthings]

Hii Amy

Can I request when they instinctively put a protective arm out to protect the other when an actor tries to jump out and scare them with Levi for Hallo-sleepover?

It's so Levi coded 😁

hallo-sleepover '24! / accepting.

HEY LOVELY! I am obsessed with this idea and totally agree. Let me spin you a 'lil story this Friday. (Thank you for sending in!) word count: 661 (ha almost 666) warnings: fluffy, silly new relationship stuff, mentions of costume gore and halloween-centric themes

"I don't get it."

"Get what."

"This."

Following the sweeping gesture of Levi's arm, your eyes fall upon the dilapidated facade of a haunted house. Covered in cobwebs and lit with foreboding red lighting, it's the perfect set-up for a nightmarish scare.

An automated group of screams mixes with the genuine screams of others guests at this Halloween event, causing an uneasy layer of anticipation for what terror lay before you both.

(Totally not nerve-wracking at all.)

There's only about twenty people in front of you before it's your turn to walk through the fog, and admittedly? You're nervous.

While you're not a total scaredy cat, this is technically your first haunt event with your new boyfriend. You enjoy getting scared during the Halloween season, but Levi?

Levi's frown deepens with every loop of the pre-programmed spooky soundtrack.

He doesn't even flinch when the strobe lights flash in lieu of a lightning strike.

Either he's very unimpressed or scared shitless.

(You're leaning towards the first option.)

"It's supposed to be fun," you try to explain as you take another few steps forward when the party ahead moves up.

His eyes narrow when a scare actor walks past, surveying the outdoor line to hype up the crowd. The employee's face is unrecognizable, contorting their cheeks and forehead with deep crimson prosthetics to resemble a demon in the flesh. Their pitch-black eyes survey the area, looking for their next victim.

Your inner monologue for the last twenty minutes has been four words on repeat: please don't see me, please don't see me, please don't see me.

"Which part?" Levi questions, tone flat.

"Which part?" you repeat. "Y'know, the whole... getting to live your own horror movie through strangers wearing scary makeup and costumes without the actual threat of dying."

"Tch." His eyes land on the house once more, surveying it as if it's a threat. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Brow furrowed, you turn your attention back to Levi.

"Do... Do you not wanna go in? Because we don't have to."

Realizing he's slashing your excitement with his own naysayer disposition, Levi's face relaxes as he shakes his head and reaches for your hand.

"We're already almost there," he replies. "Besides, you said you wanted to check out everything at the event, including this damn house, so we're doing it."

"Are you sure?"

"Why?" he abruptly asks, and you see it: although your boyfriend isn't the most forthcoming with emotions, there's an uptick to his lip. He's teasing you. "Too scared?"

"No!"

"The grip you have on my hand says otherwise."

"Shut--"

Before you can move forward, the same scare actor that walked down the line suddenly jolts across the stanchion rope, their arm outstretched--

Swiping directly at you.

Except it isn't the ghoulish demon that grabs you.

It's Levi.

Before you can even release a blood-curdling scream, he's on the move. With lightning speed, he shoots an arm out and curls you behind his back to act as a barrier between the 'threat' and you.

When you have the strength to peek, the actor is met with the scowl of the century and one distinct, firm word:

"Don't."

(Is he seriously telling someone not to do their job?)

Blinking furiously in your fright, you note the actor goes about their business without incident -- down the line and away from the two of you, but Levi doesn't let up on the human shield act.

He stands on guard for a secondary scare that never comes.

It's actually adorable.

Bringing your lips into your mouth to suppress budding laughter, you squeeze Levi's side and earn a jolt from the unexpected sensation. His head whips to the left, turning that intense glare now down to you.

"Oi—"

"Please don't try to fist fight the actors," you bemuse with a snort, untangling his arm from your body. "They're doing their job."

The glare softens to a playful narrowed stare.

"Yeah — and I'm doing mine."

credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics

[mygnolia]

get better! | 13. my kitchen almost caught fire!

SMAU! synopsis -› in which your neighbor and popular twitch streamer park sunghoon breaks his arm, so he switches to vlog style content that matches up with your’s! now everyone’s curious why 1) you have a cute boy in your apartment, 2) sunghoon’s not on his grind anymore, and 3) when are you two going to date!?

[1.2k, minor minor cut, cursing]

Choosing your kitchen to film was one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had. 

Sunghoon barely bothers to knock now, yelling at you when there’s no one else in the corridors to let him in. He’ll frantically text you or blow up your phone until he’s impatient from your ignorance and ends up ringing the doorbell to catch your attention. 

You don’t even greet him, and instead, you open the door with an accusatory finger. 

“You better not mess anything up. This apartment is new.” 

He puts his hands up in surrender, following you to see your camera set up, along with ingredients, cutlery, and everything you could need in case he needs to find something. 

“You’re awfully prepared for this,” he notes, walking around the kitchen island to face the camera. “Trust me, I’m friends with a guy who cooks, so I promise nothing bad will happen.”

You stare at him unconvinced, before he hears you mumble something about never trusting men who lie (which he takes a lot of offense to).

Slipping behind the tripod, you click a few buttons, readjusting to get the perfect angle where both you and Sunghoon are in frame, and your roomy cooking space is all included before clicking the dreaded start button. 

“What’s up, Pickles Fan Club? It’s your club president Y/N L/N, and I’m joined with a special guest!” 

Sunghoon’s gaze lingers on your infectiously cheerful personality, before he smiles brightly at the camera and introduces himself once more. You two explain the challenge you’re doing in today’s video, and after the rules are clear, you pull out your cute pink sleeping mask and a pair of white headphones, grinning mischievously when you see him eye the two objects. 

“I’m not wearing that,” He states, staring wide-eyed. You place the items down, putting your fist out to initiate a game of rock paper scissors—and that was how you lose three times, before you had to place your favorite covering over your eyes. 

You hated this; you felt like you could trip at any moment. 

Returning to the camera, you asked Sunghoon to check up on the smaller cameras on your counter and near your stove to make sure they looked right before turning on an upbeat playlist for his headphones. 

“Hey Sunghoon, do I look cute?” You asked, testing to see if he would respond. He was in his own world, staring at the flour and block of cheese as if dozing off. 

Estimating where the camera was based on the counter, you confirmed that, “Either Sunghoon is in another dimension, or he can’t hear me. Anyways, we’re going to make pasta, and we printed the recipe from Jay.” 

Making pasta was probably an even worse decision than choosing your kitchen as your channel’s next battlefield.

It was chaotic as Sunghoon scrambled to lead you away from pricking your finger immediately, telling you to wait as he read the instructions on how the hell you make creamy pasta sauce. 

“Three cloves, finely chopped. You can cut it, right?” You nodded in response, and he handed you the handle of a small knife, watching you carefully find the cloves and using the proper method to cut them slowly without ever hitting your finger. He began to pour hot water into a pot, switching on your stove carefully and waiting for it to heat up. In another pan, he added oil, and measured out heavy cream and butter to keep aside. 

He turns around, just the sound of HOT TO GO by Chappel Roan in his ears as he bops his head to the music before he notices you. Sunghoon grins as he observes how you reach out nervously to find the fabric of his button up. “Sunghoon, where the fuck are you?” You say, knowing he can’t hear you, before you point to your cloves. 

They could use some work, but he slides them into the sizzling oil. 

“Okay, now get the wooden spoon and stir.” You do as he says, slowly mixing as he pours in heavy cream and warns you not to stir too much. He proceeds to place the pasta in the water, switching tasks for you to grate the parmesan instead of stir and possibly burn yourself. 

The moment he sees you stop in his peripheral, he whips around to make sure you’re okay, only to see you’ve nursed your finger after a small scrape against the grater leaves your skin pricked and red. 

“____,” He murmurs, abandoning the stove to make sure you’re okay. “Let me get you a bandaid,” he says. Sunghoon reaches gently for your wrists, and although you can’t see anything, it heightens your senses, and you hear his worried gasp before the barely there pressure of his fingers around your hands. 

Too close. You’re friends. 

You shake your head and stop him by his wrist, finding the block of cheese and waiting until he helps you get it right. What you don’t expect, though, is how he reaches for both of your hands and leans over your shoulder, staying silent as he guides your firm grip on the cheese in the proper direction. 

Friends also do not do this, you think, as he stands behind you and watches you carefully grate a fucking block of cheese. You don’t feel the rise and fall of a friend’s chest behind you or hear their quiet breaths.

Then, something beeps. 

You immediately wring your hands out of his to take off the mask and pull off his headphones to reveal a beeping smoke alarm. Your sauce was bubbling much too high, and somehow your detector went off, and you two turned off the stove before trying to fix the stupidly loud problem on hand. Sunghoon ended up hitting it multiple times on end before it finally stopped, and you looked at each other in fear before quietly returning back behind the camera. 

“So,” you started, “Sunghoon set off the fucking smoke detector.”

He gives you an offended look before turning to the camera as his witness. “It was literally you!” 

You two point fingers at each other before laughing and simply finishing the challenge without your handicaps, and you end up making a really good looking pasta. The chicken looked well seasoned, and although your sauce might’ve burned the bottom of your pan, it leaves a fond memory behind.

To be fair, you both think you did the challenge wrong somehow. 

Sunghoon shrugs before he takes a bite, his eyes glowing with approval. “I knew Jay’s recipes were good,” he comments as he digs his fork back in…to feed you. He opens his mouth as a way to get you to subconsciously do the same, and you raise an eyebrow at not only the hand under your chin to catch any food, but also the fork that was barely a centimeter away. 

“You’re spoon feeding me?”

“Say ahh,” he deflects, before you give in with an amused look. You two spend a few minutes reflecting on how you did, and you still laugh at the fresh memory of your alarm, or cutting your garlic cloves well, or—how Sunghoon felt as he leaned over you and carefully held your hands in his. 

You watch the footage that night with a smile and a storm in your heart, unsure of what the hell you’re going to do regarding a certain Mr. Park Sunghoon.

prev. | ml. | next.

[marveling-cg]

I can't stop thinking about those 10 years or...

Izuku Midoriya recognizes a declaration of romantic intent when it slaps him in the face with a mechanical arm, and he's sick of Kacchan's bullshit:

Fucking Kacchan -- like everything else with Kacchan -- is complicated.

It'd started off simple.

A text late one night to Kacchan: "it's gone ...the ember is gone"

An hour later, and Kacchan had been knocking at Izuku's university dorm door

Izuku had fallen into him, amazed that Kacchan had traveled all the way from his campus to be with him in this moment

A kiss to Izuku's hair made him look up into vermillion eyes

Kacchan had followed it with a kiss to Izuku's forehead, his eyelids, his tear-stained cheeks -- he'd paused and Izuku hadn't dared to move, not even to open his eyes, unwilling to break whatever spell this might be

Kacchan had brushed his thumbs over Izuku's cheeks, cradling Izuku's face, as if Izuku was precious, delicate: "Let me make you feel good." Yes.

"Please."

And then Kacchan had moved with the kind of decisive action that never failed to take Izuku's breath away; only this time he had actually been stealing Izuku's breath, un-selfconsciously pressing the gentlest kiss to Izuku's mouth following it up with a series of licks and bites that had left Izuku unable to think about anything beyond Kacchan

His hands in Izuku's hair, the bite of his teeth against Izuku's neck, the warmth of him under Izuku's hands, the dizzying sight of him sinking to his knees

Izuku had come embarrassingly fast. Kacchan was as good at sucking Izuku off as he was at everything else, all hot mouth and large hands completely focused on holding Izuku captive.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean -- I mean I didn't want -- I still want, I mean if you want --"

"Zuku," Kacchan's voice had been serious, his stare arresting, "You think I'm done with you? You think I'll ever be fucking done with you?"

And then Kacchan had reached behind himself and pulled his shirt over his head; stood in one fluid motion and tossed a small bottle to the bed from one of his pockets. "Come here."

Izuku had crashed into Kacchan with all the urgency of years' worth of desire

It had taken almost the whole night to exhaust themselves, and even then, Kacchan stayed and held Izuku until he'd finally been able to sleep

In the morning, when Izuku had woken to the sun streaming through his window and an empty bed, he'd almost panicked.

"Shhh, go back to sleep. I've gotta get back to my internship." Kacchan was halfway through the door, but he stopped to look back over his shoulder. "But, I'm here, Deku. Always."

Then he was out the door.

Izuku'd crashed back into bed, only to realize there was a note left on his pillow: "You're still my hero, Deku."

And it might have stayed simple if either he or Kacchan had ever figured out how to have a proper conversation, but it was always heartrending confessions or almost nothing at all with them. It was easier when they were in person. Kacchan communicated through action. For instance:

After Kacchan left that morning, Izuku didn't hear directly from him, but suddenly the mostly dormant Class 1A group chat lit up

Ashido mentioned wanting to meet up to celebrate some of the upcoming birthdays; Momo thought maybe they could make a tradition of it, meet up once a month any month where 1A had a birthday; Tenya had a scheduling survey posted in the chat almost before Momo finished her last message

Then Uraraka and Tsu, both attending the same university as Izuku, had shown up at his door with snacks for an impromptu movie night

No one mentioned a word about One For All or Katsuki, but it all still felt like Kacchan taking care of him

"Did he tell you," Izuku asked once the first movie ended, "that we finally slept together?"

Once the shock of the revelation died down, the questions began: How do you feel about that? Have you talked since? Are you dating now?

That last one was where he got stuck. He wasn't sure. He couldn't explain what they were.

Tsu and Uraraka thought he should talk with Kacchan, but Izuku kept thinking about the night they helped Kacchan escape the League -- the way the plan worked because Izuku didn't press. When Kacchan was ready, he'd made contact. And Izuku had gotten his best friend back.

Izuku decided he would wait, let Kacchan lead

A week and a half later, when 1A met up for Koji, Shoji, Tsu, & Jiro's birthdays, Kacchan made a beeline for Izuku as soon as he arrived

Kacchan was clearly freshly off duty, hair a little damp, clothes clinging slightly from his shower

He pressed his way through the crowd, barely waited for their friends to make space next to Izuku before he was dragging a seat into the space

He settled in close, arm around the back of Izuku's chair, before butting his head lightly into the side of Izuku's. His free hand reached to Izuku's closest and pulled it into his grip and then to his mouth for a quick kiss

Izuku nearly died.

It's not that they hadn't spoken since that night, they had, but not about them, not about what that night meant. Kacchan had sent over footage from some villain who'd been good at evading their agency: "how would you stop him? the short version"; and there'd been random hero trivia, stuff that was hard to find online but Kacchan had gleaned from some old timers who consulted at his internship

Nothing that would have prepared Izuku for this; for fucking casual contact in the presence of their friends

All Might help him

When Kacchan found him after dinner, chatting with Jiro and Kaminari, and asked him, audibly, if he wanted to come back to Kacchan's place, Izuku had practically floated out after him

On the way over, he could sense Kacchan tensing up. They needed to talk - should talk. But, even Izuku could admit that sometimes there's was too much to say and too few words that would make any of it make sense.

He thought sometimes that's why they'd had such a hard time of it in grade school. What do you do with the knowledge that you and this other kid are permanent when you're 10 years old.

So when they got up to Kacchan's dorm, Izuku didn't say anything, simply took Kachaan's hand and pulled him close. The way Kacchan fell into the kiss, fell into Izuku's arms, like it was a relief, was all Izuku really needed to know.

It was a pattern they'd keep up over the next few years.

Kacchan stayed busy: school, internship, training, recovery. But he never missed a birthday gathering. And -- as they'd done since their second year at UA, they always met up on the anniversary of Kacchan's escape from the League of Villains at All Might's statue.

On the first anniversary of Izuku losing his power, Kacchan showed up at Izuku's dorm with a bag full of groceries: "Stop looking at me like that, dweeb, it's our fucking anniversary. Put some pants on so we can go down to the kitchen."

It didn't stop Izuku's tears, but it did muddle them into something closer to sweet than bitter

It was also how he learned that they were in fact (probably) in a relationship

But when graduation rolled around, and other 1A couples were preparing to move in with each other, Kacchan asked Izuku and Kaminari and Kirishima to help him move into a spartan little studio apartment a five minute walk away from his agency

"You've got that offer from UA. It wouldn't make sense for you to commute all the way from out here."

Which was its own manageable sort of wound.

What wasn't manageable was watching Kacchan constantly try to get himself killed:

Some time during college, Kacchan had named Izuku as his emergency contact

It wasn't a romantic thing -- more a Mitsuki Bakugo was a lot to handle when healthy & uninjured, and while she absolutely knew how to tune it down when her son needed her, she would absolutely flame the shit out of Bakugo if she felt he was taking unnecessary risks

So Izuku got a first hand look at Kacchan's fucking death wish

It hadn't been obvious at first; when they were in college he'd just seemed driven, eager to finish his degree on time, eager to leverage it plus his experience to secure a position at one of the best agencies

(Which was ridiculous -- he'd saved the fucking world in his first year of high school; he would have personal recommendations from Endeavor and Aizawa-sensei and All Might -- but Izuku could pretend Kacchan's work ethic made sense, could speculate that maybe Kacchan had some plans for their future that required it)

But Kacchan graduated, and moved into his tiny ass apartment -- alone -- , and never let his foot up off the gas

He put in hours at his main agency, signed up for work with the Security Office, took on every overtime opportunity for community outreach events

He was always working, rarely left himself time to get more than a handful of hours of sleep, let alone time to really recharge

He started making mistakes

Oh, nothing that would get him removed from the agency or any of his other gigs, but the kind of things that left him taking more damage than he needed, the kind of mistakes he'd dedicated himself to beating out of Izuku in training over half a decade ago

With every injury the warnings piled up: take more sustained damage here and risk doing permanent harm to his hand, one more fall like that and he might sustain the kind of concussion it took a year or more to recover from, another shoulder dislocation and he was looking at permanent tendon damage

It would have been one thing if the injuries were unavoidable, but Izuku watched the footage, scoured the web for every angle of Kacchan's fights and rescues. It was exhaustion. Kacchan was reacting slower, taking more risks, because he was fucking exhausted

Izuku had tried to be patient, tried to be calm, but Kacchan was a bull-headed asshole who refused to take more than medically prescribed days off, or give up any of his side jobs, or reasonably explain why he was driving himself into the ground with nothing to show for it

"Is this what it was like watching me with One For All? Because I completely understand why you beat the shit out of me to make me stop!"

"I can't stop right now, Deku."

"So I'm just supposed to sit here and watch you get yourself killed?"

"I don't want you to leave."

"But you won't so much as take a day off to show me that I should stay?"

The silence had been deafening.

You could call it a break up, their friends in 1A did, but Izuku didn't think he and Kacchan were capable of closing the door on each other. Not permanently. Every time they'd walked away from each other in the past, they'd come back stronger, closer. But he'd be damned if Kacchan died because Izuku had been permissive.

So, for almost two years, Izuku's world got quieter:

He gave up almost half of the birthday gatherings ("Sorry I'm on dorm watch duty, Aizawa-sensei will kick my ass if I skip!" "Big field trip in the morning guys, I won't be able to make it this time." "Nobody told me essays would take this long to grade! I'll catch you next time, I promise!" Please, please, please take care of Kacchan for me.)

And teaching really did kick his ass: he needed to get familiar with UA curriculum from the teacher side (because of the League of Villains he'd barely seen the traditional coursework his first two years), he needed to tailor it to his own teaching style, had to figure out his teaching style, and grading, and student discipline, and managing practical exercises while quirkless

In between all of that, there were still calls from Kacchan's agency infirmary or the nearby hospital. Fewer than before. But.

Izuku spoke with Kacchan's doctors over the phone, determined whether the situation was a send-over-a-1A-in-the-morning or call-in-Mitsuki-now and reminded himself why he himself needed to stay put

That didn't stop him from showing up at All Might's statue on the anniversary of All For One's reemergence

They'd sat quietly next to each other for a while before:

"Deku..."

"Are you going to slow down?"

"I can't yet."

"Okay. Be careful, Kacchan."

And Kacchan sent Izuku a small Deku statuette on their anniversary, one of the niche merch items sold by artists local to either he and Kacchan's childhood neighborhood or the area Izuku had patrolled after Shigaraki's awakening. It reminded Izuku of that note Kacchan left for him their first morning together.

Needless to say, when All Might asked to meet him after class he couldn't have begun to expect The Suit.

"Explain. What do you mean Kacchan...and 1A? Explain."

All Might wasn't sure how long Kacchan and Hatsume had been working on the idea, but sometime before college graduation their near complete prototype had been completely destroyed during testing

This is when Kacchan had reached out to All Might and the Security Office: If the SO could hire Hatsume and fund the most basic form of the suit, they'd be able to use it to allow disabled heroes with valuable experience (All Might, Hawks, Mirko, etc) back in the field, even if just in the capacity to train young heroes; Kacchan would continue funding the unique features he wanted for specifically for Izuku's

As Kacchan had already funded the basis of the suit's research and the SO had already been looking to recruit Hatsume, they'd been able to solidify the deal

But, the materials needed to make the suit as safe as necessary were expensive, even with folks like Jeanist (who'd created a new fiber for the undersuit that would afford Izuku more protection should a battery explode, etc) volunteering their time for free

Around that time, class 1A had had the.....opportunity to confront Kacchan without Izuku present

Once they understood what Kacchan was up to, they created a fund to support the completion of the suit

Izuku had struggled then. He knew his eyes were leaking, but he didn't have time for the breakdown this deserved, because he needed to be across town. He needed to see Kacchan's stupid, beautiful, infuriating face.

He barely remembered leaving All Might (he would call him later with a proper thank you); he booked a rideshare, plugged in Kacchan's location (they'd started sharing it in 2nd year at UA -- "I'm not gonna be stressed that you've gotten yourself caught up in some mess without backup. What if the ember burns out mid-reckless decision? Share your location, nerd.") and spent the next 30 minutes trying to understand it all

Why Kacchan had been so hellbent on working all the time, why it had all gotten so much worse after graduation, the desperation he'd had to continue. "I can't yet."

After 20+ years of friendship, it finally struck Izuku that Kacchan was always telling him the important things in fucking decade old callbacks

"You were looking down on me, you thought you were better than me." That fight at Ground Beta revealing some long held misperception.

And now, he was thrown back to a hospital bed the day One For All died: "I thought I'd be on your heels for the rest of our lives."

Izuku had tried so hard then not to read into that. Had tried not to read into a simple statement more than Kacchan could possibly have been trying to say.

But, fuck that.

The car stopped before Izuku could work himself from incensed muttering to a full body scream

He was shocked to find himself in front of Kacchan's apartment, but the little blue bubble on the map indicated that Kacchan (or his phone at least) was in fact in the building in front of him

It was rare for Kacchan to actually be home, he usually just caught naps at his agency unless he was taking a rare 24 hours or more off

Izuku couldn't care about any of it. He quickly coded into the building and made his way up to Kacchan's room. He couldn't sort himself out enough to find the key and so instead spent 20 seconds banging loud enough on Kacchan's door to probably alarm the neighbors.

Kacchan answered the door groggy and gorgeous, but the bags under his eyes were a reminder of why Izuku was here

"Why, Kacchan?"

It took him a moment to respond. "All Might told you?" And then, after Izuku nodded, "What the fuck do you mean 'why'?"

"Why do all of this? Why work so hard just for --"

"Just for the person who gave their fucking everything to save the entire world? To give something back to the person entire governments were content to let take the fall for their failures? I don't know Deku. Maybe I wasn't content to watch the one person who did nothing wrong lose the one thing he wanted most. Maybe I wasn't okay with that karmic injustice. So I did something about it. Because you're worth more than being relegated to the sidelines."

Fuck

Whatever anger or confusion had been holding back the swell of Izuku's tears broke then in the face of Kacchan's sincerity

Izuku barely registered the door closing as Kacchan pulled Izuku out of the hallway and into his arms

Izuku cried. For a long time. For the unfairness he rarely let himself acknowledge. For the way Kacchan, as always, had identified the problem and started working on the solution before Izuku had even finished processing. For the way the burden of fixing everything always seemed to fall on them. For the time they'd lost. For the time they would continue to lose if Izuku couldn't find the courage to speak.

He braced himself against Kacchan's shoulder because facing Kacchan had always given him strength: "I love you, Katsuki Bakugo. A decade ago you told me about a future you'd imagined. A future for the both of us. Together. If this -- if all of this -- wasn't about us and forever, can you tell me now so I can try and find away to kill this hope?"

"Deku, shit --" here Kacchan pulled him closer, a hand to the back of Izuku's neck, the other finding Izuku's hand to lace their fingers together. "Yeah, this is about...us. Forever."

Izuku moved then, bodying Kacchan into the couch, pressing himself into Kacchan's chest

"Good. That's good. I'm moving in. But not here. We're finding a place where our bed isn't the living room and the bathroom isn't next to the pantry."

"Tell me how you really feel, asshole." Said so warmly as to be an endearment.

"And you're taking time off. Real time. And dropping at least one job."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, Kacchan."

"Pushy."

"You spent the better parts of the last decade working to get just this -- so you'll deal with it."

"Yeah I did." Kacchan ran a hand through Izuku's hair. "What else?"

"Whatever else is left to pay for, it's mine. I've been getting paid to live in the teacher's dorm for the last three years. I've got savings --"

"It's done, Deku. It's all -- with everyone chipping in, especially Todoroki with his dad's guilt money -- it's all taken care of."

"Huh. Okay. But repairs are mine. If the Security Office or our agency or whatever can't cover it, it's mine. You've done enough."

"Mm, maybe."

"No, Kacchan. I'm serious. I need you to rest. I need you to take care of yourself. Let me worry about me for a little. What would have been the point if you burn yourself out just as I'm getting started. I want what you said. Us. Together. Flawless victories."

AND THEN THEY HEROED HAPPILY EVER AFTER!

[creatingblackcharacters]

Current favourite Black character is Marz (Marzipan) from the game I Was A Teenage Exocolonist.

The game takes place over a decade, and your character grows up with the core cast.

Marz as a kid is one of the first kids you talk to. At ten years old she's fashionable, not too keen to go outside, has leadership potential that currently manifests as ordering other kids around, and I think may have been straightening her hair? (More on this later don't worry).

She has two dads who love her very much and want the best for her. She doesn't have to work for much, but does enjoy helping out in the Depot because that is closer to the nanoprinters and she loves her some shiny new things.

If she has been straightening her hair, it will be because she wants to, not because of feeling out of place- kids in the game each have a genetic augment, and hers is that she has no sense of shame.

The augments are all things they were given to help them survive on the first planetary colony outside Earth (you learn lots about this if you take her favourite school subject, Humanities) and it is a fan theory that for Marz this means she is resistant to social control.

This becomes important when you are all teens, because events happen to shake up colony leadership and not everyone is happy with the way things are.

Teen Marz has learned some of the finer points of people skills, and is fairly well liked. She enjoys being in charge, but doesn't want lackeys- a fast way to friendship with her is to challenge her when you think she is wrong, or make her explain her reasoning. She also starts growing into herself and her own identity a bit better, which manifests visually through her exploring her natural hair texture.

While she still works in the Depot, she also gets a role in Colony Administration, following her growing interest in leadership and structure of the community, and her developing sense that things could be better.

People who don't know Marz well can think she's stroppy and materialistic, but she has a deep sense of the way things should be, questions what she sees as incompetent leadership, and knows enough about how people work that she wants to 'look the part' of someone in charge.

Depending on the player's interactions with her through theirs lives Marz can become either a capitalist or more aligned to social good- her path is not set. Important context to this is that capitalism is an ideology the colony left behind on Earth, so she only has a reconstruction based on archival materials. To her, capitalism is about 'everyone being able to have access to nice things', which is a bit naiive but understandable in context, and also why the core of what she wants for people is the same regardless of the system of belief she ends up aligned to.

Young adult Marz is drop dead gorgeous, confident, and certain that she can do better for her people than what they have. She has been in the halls of power long enough to be able to back it up too.

She also has a soft side- one of the kindest things you can do for her is give her a surprise spa day, where she gets fussed over without having to ask for it first.

And if you become very good friends with her she let's her guard down entirely, with a sense of nostalgia for how things were in your childhoods.

In the final years of the game you have the chance to convince council leaders to help you overthrow and replace the governor. Out of the main cast, the options for a replacement are the player character and Marz. You have to do a lot of convincing (for any option cos you are all so young to be in charge), but installing Marz as the Governor is possible.

How well she does in the epilogue depends a lot on her beliefs (developed through your lifetime together) and subsequent decisions, but she has the potential to be a successful and well received leader.

And even if she does not become governor there are happy endings for her.

Picture of the core cast (without player character) as adults to put Marz into context.

I have major brainworms about this game, and Marz is a character that I think deserves more love.

I remember Marz! Yes, she's been submitted. Marzipan 🥺🥺🥺 what a cute name. God her design is gorgeous- that governor art?? 🤌🏾🔥🔥🔥 I love her palette consistency, and how it grows into her as she grows. Her hair 🥹🥹🥹 these are the type of strong Black girls and women I do want to see. The ones that are allowed to be assertive, in charge, and the people around her recognize and respect that power. I want us to be allowed to be confident in the media without asshats going "oh she's arrogant" just because they're not used to a Black woman humbling herself to make them feel better. And yes, giving her a spa day to be pampered!!! We deserve that too!! I hope you work hard in your space to show your respect and love for Marz- someone's gotta do it! Can't let her go unheard just because ye same olde white preference!

[raayllum]

a/n: sometimes i don't realize how much my autism has affected my life / relationships and then it slams into me. a ficlet

It's been an hour since the spat at negotiations, for lack of a better term—Opeli still winces when she thinks of the sharpness in the young prince's voice, straightening out his Evenere green robes with a finicky flourish—and Ezran had requested to be alone for the break.

Opeli had obliged him, not pleased he'd wanted distance from even Soren and Corvus when they had visiting nobles and servants over, but so long as they stood guard at wherever he'd gone, she couldn't really find it in her to object. Being king could be overwhelming even if you weren't eleven years old.

It's nearing the time negotiations will re-commence, though, and... she can't find him.

He's not in the kitchens, or one of the smaller dining halls he likes to use with Soren and Corvus. He's not with Callum, who went to the courtyard to sketch, a worried crease in his brow (he'd checked on his brother—you alright, Ez?—talked down the prince, but Ez had shooed him off).

Opeli is beginning to despair that maybe he's run off into one of the remaining secret passageways, or even gotten stuck somewhere, when she spots Soren and Corvus standing in front of the library doors. Corvus seems as troubled as Callum, Soren catching her eye and arm when she moves to go inside.

"I think he's having a rough time," Soren says softly. "You might wanna..."

"I don't know if we can delay the next meeting any further," Opeli says apologetically. He releases her, nodding but unhappy about it, and she pushes open the door.

It takes a few moments, peering through the tall aisles of shelves and one or two alcoves, but eventually she finds the young boy king in one of the armchairs tucked away in a corner, a book open in his lap. And in truth, Opeli hears him before she sees him, because Ezran is... crying.

Big fat tears rolling down his cheeks in ways she hasn't seen since they completed King Harrow's memorial statue based off Prince Callum's sketches, or since those early, overwhelming weeks of being king once the Moonshadow elf had left... Bait's not in his lap either, pawing at his thigh but otherwise ignored, which isn't like Ezran either; so much so, Opeli stops right in her tracks.

"I'm, er—" She starts, then stops. He's clearly not okay so there's no point in asking. She eases onto her knees instead beside his armchair, unsure of how to proceed until she knows what's distressing him. It's not far from the anniversary of the attack, so maybe...? "I'm afraid the meeting is going to resume, soon, King Ezran."

He sniffles, looking briefly at her and then just starting at the floor, his eyes hardening. He doesn't move. He doesn't even wipe away his tears.

She purses her lips. "Ezran?"

Finally he looks at her, his face contorting—livid like she's never seen. "I don't know how to do this, Opeli."

"King Ezr—"

"Prince Erik asked for more information, so I gave it, and then he snapped at me and—I just don't understand!" Ezran cries, tiny fingers curling into fists. His eyes go wide with frustration, searching for something he can't find. "I don't get it. We've always had these trade deals and they worked fine, and this new one is the exact same, but now the policy's a problem? And when I pointed out it's just like the old ones, he said it just feels like Evenere needs something different even though those things are there for a reason—and no one cares about the reason but me!"

Opeli reaches for his arm. "Ezran—"

He stands, pacing. "And then when I explain those reasons, it's like... I knew as a kid the other kids didn't like me because I talked too much, and I was boring about wanting to talk about bugs or animals, or—so I just... I tried so hard to use less words and always say what I mean, but people still didn't get it, or like it." He pressed his palms to his eyes, tears leaking out underneath. "And it's the same damn thing in court, I don't—at the last Summit, Prince Erik didn't mind how much I talked because we were agreeing on policy, but now that we disagree I-I can't, for some reason? I'm just trying to explain, but he thinks I'm being condescending, but I don't think I'm smarter than him, I don't, I try so hard to say things right and I just don't know how —"

"Ezran." She takes him by the shoulders and he looks up at her, red-eyed with a runny nose. She takes a deep breath for her own measure, reaching up to wipe away some of his tears. "The prince, as many do, have an ego. You are doing your—"

"Well yeah, some people are jerks like him. But most people aren't, and I still can't... Why can't people just know you value them? Why do I have to remember to spell it out every time? Why do I have to read their mind and know what they need without them telling me? If I'm listening it's because I think we can reach common ground... Because the respect is already there. And I try so hard to explain so we can just reach common ground, but people just—they don't see that. And I don't know how to make them see that. I came up here to read hoping I'd find something so I can understand where His Highness is coming from, but it still doesn't make sense to me, and... I'm so tired, Opeli."

Gods, she wishes she had a better answer for him. She gives his shoulders a tiny squeeze, and then reaches up and takes off his crown. "Go to the gardens for the rest of the day," she says. "With your crownguard, or your brother, or both. Down by the town. I'll tell the prince and his delegates you're not feeling well."

Ezran's eyes shine as she presses the crown into his hands. "But—"

"No buts. It's like you said: you're tired. You deserve rest." Opeli offers up a tiny smile. "Go on."

Ezran steps away, bottom lip trembling, and then throws his arms tightly around her in the middle. They've never hugged before, she thinks, but she hugs him back now, rubbing his shoulders gently.

"Thank you, Opeli," he mumbles, some of the last tears fading. "'M sorry I'm so..."

She shushes him quietly. "You're a very special boy, my king. Not everyone is going to understand that. And I know it hurts, but not everyone needs to. Just keep... being yourself. We all love you here. You know that, don't you?"

He pulls back slowly, not smiling, but not looking nearly as worn down as before. He tucks his crown under one arm, and picks up Bait with the other. He has one last big sniffle. "Yes. I do."

[paeliae-occasionally]

Strands and Simple components

Thank you @satohqbanana for asking about this!

Ok so it has come to my attention that I have a lot of strand and simple components lore that I have not fully explained so let’s get on that.

Alright so firstly:

In my world magic acts essentially like a different form of matter. It has no physical mass but can be measured and quantised like a particle. Creatures with a soul can interact with this matter, creatures without a soul cannot.

So what are strands and simple components?

Ok, so imagine the air around you. It is everywhere but if you zoom in close enough, you can see it is made up of compounds like N2 and H2O

Strands are like compounds.

A bunch of magic atoms with bonds between them form larger molecule called a strand.

In the same way, simple components are like elements. They bond together to make strands, and you can imagine the table in the magic systems post here like the periodic table of elements.

You can also think about it like a strand of DNA and the simple components are like bases.

————The types and mechanics of bonds are still under development. ————

So to recap, Magic is everywhere but at a base level it is made up of strands (compounds) and simple components (Elements) .

Refined and Unrefined spells:

So Unrefined spells cast full, naturally occurring strands (Druids)

Refined spells perform a ‘Reaction’ first to break off either a portion of a strand (Mages) or an individual simple component. (Runics)

Ok, so going deeper into the lore:

What makes an ability require less or more power?

This is actually a really interesting one.

It depends on 3 factors:

weight of the components

stability of the components

The strength of the bonds

Weight

Ok so when I say weight in reference to magic, I don’t mean physical as they have no mass, it just means how that component reacts to magical fields.

So in the ‘periodic table’ weight increases down the group and across the period. Particles that have a higher weight are more likely to exist in shorter strands or alone. It is easier to break bonds between heavier components to remove them from their strands.

It is however harder to cast heavier elements as they are harder to manipulate with your soul.

Stability

This means how likely a component is to decay. Stability decreases with weight, so the heavier a component is the more likely it is to decay.

Heavier components are usually more powerful because they release energy when they break down which can add power to the spell.

Less stable components are much harder to cast as you need a lot more control so they don’t decay when you interact with them.

The strength of the bonds

Typically lighter components form stronger bonds. Bond strength only matters for the types of casters who break bonds. (Mages and Runics)

Again the details of bonding are still under development so I will leave it here for now.

Mages usually only break 1 or 2 bonds to get a specific section of a strand. They don’t have enough power to break every bond in the whole strand.

Runics use runes as a sort of catalyst so they can break every bond by an alternate route that requires less energy.

Hope this answers the question. Let me know if anything doesn’t make sense.

@thelovelymachinery, @an-indecisive-nerd, @the-letterbox-archives, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @winvyre

@happypup-kitcat24, @wyked-ao3, @leahnardo-da-veggie, @alnaperera, @dearunreliablenarrator

@rumeysawrites, @urnumber1star, @seastarblue, @thecomfywriter

[cdd-media-share]

Slay the Princess and Dissociative Identity Disorder

GAME CONTENT WARNINGS:

Major gore. You cannot play this game and avoid extreme gore. Seriously, don't take this CW lightly. Like I really do mean it, this game has extreme gore and violence, it isn't mild or light, it is quite gruesome!

Flashing/flickering lights.

Slay the Princess is one of my FAVORITE games with DID themes, and it's not about DID or related to DID at all. I've never seen media that so perfectly encapsulates SOOO many things that could relate back to DID in SO many ways.

It's so good that I genuinely wonder if anyone involved in the making of the game either have DID themselves, know anybody with it, or what. Because seriously there are so many things in this game that could relate back to DID in SO many different ways.

"You're on a path in the woods, and at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a Princess. You're here to slay her. If you don't, it will be the end of the world." "You're not going to listen to Him, are you? We're supposed to save princesses, not slay them..." A second voice pops in - the Voice of the Hero.

From this point onward, you have tons and tons and tons of choices to make, each branching off to several different endings. I've never seen a game with SO many different branching paths before! While there are many other games with many different branching paths, this game does it in a way I've seen no other game do it. It has so many different paths, the replay qualities in this game are above and beyond anything I've seen in other games, it's exactly the kind of "your choices impact the endings" type of game I've dreamed of.

There are two voices speaking in your head - The Narrator and the Voice of the Hero. You can already see the DID-parallels here.

No matter what your choices are - when you reach the cabin and meet the princess, things could go any number of ways. You can try and immediately kill her, or you can talk to her and ask her questions. You two can fight to the death until you die or she dies or both of you die. Or, before you enter the cabin, you can even turn back and away from the cabin and find out what happens if you do that.

No matter what you do, you will find yourself back where you started, at the starting path in the woods before you entered the cabin and saw the princess.

You will be back where you started with The Narrator repeating the same narration he said the first time - you're on a path in the woods, and at the end of that path is a cabin.

This is the game.

You keep going on and repeating the same thing, making different choices - killing the princess? Saving her? Fighting her to the death? Leaving her? Doing something else? Many different choices to make, many different things to do, but no matter what you do, you will find that more and more voices enter your head depending on the choices you made in the previous "loop." The Voice of the Broken, the Voice of the Smitten, the Voice of the Stubborn, and more...

The Voices all speak to you and interact with one another, providing different input, often contradictory input. The voices argue with one another and can even influence the body of the main character/the body all of the voices share.

I wish I could better explain and describe JUST how many things in this can relate back to DID, but it's somewhat difficult to, especially because if I explain anything more about this game, it will be gearing in towards MAJOR spoilers.

From the Voices being described as "shards of broken glass" to amnesia to being afraid to look at yourself in the mirror to "you" when you look in that mirror being described as "The Body" in a Steam achievement, this game seriously has SO many things that relate back to DID it's insane.

I'm really bad at trying to make posts like this - this post wasn't meant to be some big professional review, but I did my best! Check out this fan song that I like!

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow part 38

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 35, part 36, part 37

“Can I ask you for a favor,” Dustin asks while Nancy is driving him home.

Nancy hums. Waiting for him to continue.

“Can you tell me when Steve gets migraines?” A pause. “Well, maybe not every migraine because I know he gets little ones all the time. But the big ones. I’d like to know when he gets the big ones.”

Nancy doesn’t say anything, just flips her blinker and turns down the next street. “Why are you asking me?”

Dustin sighs. “Because I know you know about them. You and Steve are friends again, and this morning you seemed like you knew when they happened. And I never do. He never tells me, and Robin just ignores when I ask. I don’t think it’s that big of a deal that I want to know.”

“And you want to know, why? He’s gotten them for years now.”

Another sigh. He’s tired of explaining why he wants to know things about his friends. “I know. I’ve wanted to know for years. But he always said it wasn’t my thing to deal with. But it is. He’s my friend and I want to know what’s going on with him. And if I could just-.”

Stop hurting him more. That’s what he almost said. Because it was true. Dustin makes plans all the time. Normally including Steve either as a ride, or to be there. It would be a lot easier for all of them if he could just plan those things around “the big one.” That way, Steve doesn’t feel left out, and they didn’t get upset when he didn’t show.

It would make everyone feel better. Everyone feel included. Everyone feel listened to.

It just made sense.

Nancy pulls the car to a stop at the stop sign on his street corner. “You know you can’t fix it. Tracking it can be helpful, but it won’t fix anything.”

“I know.” If he could fix it, he would. “I just feel so out of the loop and then I get to today, and Steve looks-. Like he’s dying,” he says with a shallow breath. “I’ve seen him like that too many times.”

A car honks behind them. Nancy swearing under her breath and finally turning down his street.

Dustin’s seen Steve near the brink of death too many times. Seen him get beaten up right in front of him, where he couldn’t even stop it. Billy knocked him unconscious and just kept going. If Max hadn’t hit him with the sedative, Dustin’s not sure what would have happened.

Then there was the Russians. Which he didn’t see directly, but he knew. Steve’s face was any indicator of that. The way the tips of his hair were caked with his own blood. How him and Robin were drugged. All for protecting him and Erica.

At the hospital, when Steve dropped in front of him. Blood polling through his clothes and onto the floor. Face becoming white as his eyes fluttered shut.

Dustin was tired of it. He was tired of seeing the person he cared to much about get hurt. Get so close to death that the light died a bit in his eyes. Never fully returning. Part of him just gone.

Nancy pulls to a stop outside his house. Putting the car in park and reaching across the center consol. Pulling Dustin into a hug.

“He’s not going anywhere.” She says it like a fact, but Dustin can’t fully be sure.

Maybe if his mind would stop twisting everything all the time. Just look at the positives and see how all of them are still standing. But all he can see are the scars that are left. Knowing the pain that made them, and how they will forever be marked by it.

Sometimes, when Dustin closes his eyes, all he can see is red. Deep blood red. Pouring out of every orifice, covering up the faces he loves. Pulling them down and away. Leaving Dustin stranded and alone.

It’s not real. He knows that. But the fear still consumes him. Dustin acts confident. Like he knows the answer to everything. Like he could fix it if he tried hard enough. Deep down, he’s just afraid. A terrified kid.

He can’t predict the unpredictable. That the most terrifying things he’s ever known.

“Hey,” Nancy pulls him back out of his head. Her hands holding him steady. “He’s not going anywhere.”

A tear rolls down his cheek. Forming without permission. Showing the pain that hides beneath. But her words sound like a promise. One that Dustin wants to keep.

“None of us,” she continues. “None of us are going anywhere.”

Maybe he could finally start believing that. If he tried hard enough. He could finally believe that.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

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@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[mute-house]

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Gregory House is a doctor that works at the Princeston-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Though he finds himself to have one major issue, or two.. He's sick. Sick in the leg. He has to lug around a cane to be able to walk properly. Another thing, he's mute, unwillingly so. And with these complications comes a series of issues his co-workers, boss, patients, and best friend has to deal with ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ "WHAT'S THIS BLOG GOING TO BE ABOUT?" : My Au! Yipee! You're free to ask anybody i've currently introduced questions (that being House and Wilson [please ask questions towards them <3 literally anything]) "WHEN WILL YOU BE WORKING ON THIS?" : In my freetime! Just, something for me to share for all of you. This is just for fun though!! "WHAT'S GOING TO BE IN THIS BLOG?" : Anything related to the au!! Art, writing, memes, animations, etc !! FAQ ! "WHY IS HOUSE MUTE?" : His vocal cords are screwed up! They got screwed up around the time of his leg. As a child, he was non-verbal autistic, though. ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ 'Few people want a sick doctor, even less want a sick and mute one.' An irritable and stubborn doctor who is incredibly reclusive and cold. Dr. House finds himself hiding away in his office, unable to verbally communicate. He feels like the universe has mocked him, having gone from non-verbal autistic, then learning how to speak and express himself, before having it all ripped away from him. He's miserable most of the time. If he wasn't so skilled, his violence would get him kicked out, and in prison. Wilson advises not to try and make small talk with him, especially about family. He has short greying hair with icy blue eyes, he's unshaven and keeps a good amount of stubble. House enjoys wearing a pale blue or white button up shirt with his chest partly exposed, sometimes covered by a different colour shirt underneath. His overcoat is a darker grey blazer which is kept open. He wears jeans, and darkly coloured shoes. House communicates through a jacket sized flexible whiteboard which wraps around the interior of his usual coat, allowing him to write on either side. His cane is built to have a small, drilled out hole which is capable of fitting a whiteboard marker. Along the sides of his belt are straps which fit air horns, each having a different sound for different events. He refuses to use a text-to-speech machine, just like how he doesn't use a wheelchair, he sees it as a disadvantage. His pupils are oddly shaped, leading to clumsiness and a slight struggle in vision. Unable to communicate properly, House is constantly frustrated. He mixes his Vicodin and 'other' pills, one's which he won't specify, but Wilson assures they're healthy. His main hobby is being with hookers (that's what he tells you, it's clear he's not open. or maybe he's being sarcastic, he mentions everybody thinks he's always being sarcastic.. Is he being sarcastic about that?) He'll gladly golf or get a drink with you if your name is Wilson. Though him fooling around playing a video game, tossing around a tennis ball, or staring at a random object convincing himself it'll do something isn't uncommon . ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ 'I'm not just making an excuse. There's no reason he couldn't.' A compassionate, and much more caring doctor who you'll see working around the building. Dr. Wilson is perhaps, a little too nice. He feels guilty about House, and to compensate lets House off with a little too much. He knows people don't understand House, Wilson doesn't either at times. He may be seen following House around, being his translator, making sure he doesn't have a meltdown. House writes not to make long talk with him, while House may explain it as Wilson being boring, Wilson thinks it's because House wants to be with him more; who would you rather believe?

Wilson is a brunette with more hair than House, while still keeping it on the short side. He has kind brown eyes, frequently looking like a sad, sopping wet dog. At work, unlike House, he'll wear his white coat along side a tie, frequently striped with a pale blue collared shirt. His appearance is clean and tidy. Wilson is a licensed psychiatrist as well as his main choice of oncology, he took it to better understand people and believes it's a useful life skill. He's roughly House's age. He's glad he took it, he believes he wouldn't be able to help out as much as he does now without it. He's taught himself in ASL, and carries around a communication board and/or an AAC device. While it may be for House, he's not going to elaborate on it. He says he believes it's useful for everybody. Wilson takes antidepressants, though he's near fine in every other regard. He has good vision and is relatively social. He has generic hobbies, Wilson would rather spend his time being productive or helping other people. Unlike House, he would rather be surrounded by people than sit around in the dark and ponder where life will lead after it all ends.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ [Currently unfinished! terribly sick right now and busy with school </3 will update when I can. lalala.]

[starlit-crossing]

A Ghost of Yourself

Chapter 6 - A Day Out

Damian began his morning training like always. A sword in hand as he practiced katas at the break of dawn. Most of the family tended to be asleep at this hour if they weren’t just arriving home by this point. Though with a new house guest at the manor, Damian had been benched for the time being. Even Duke had his time out lowered to reduce the chances of suspicion of the Wayne family’s disappearances. Despite his annoyance, this “break” allowed Damian more time to train hence waking up at dawn to practice when others were least likely to bother him.

Though apparently, he was wrong, as he went through his forms a figure made its way around the side of the manor. The house guest in question, “Danny” appeared to be going on a morning jog. Still wearing the same ratty jeans and white t-shirt, his blue hoodie nowhere to be seen. The boy gave him a nod as he passed, continuing down the makeshift trail that snaked through the manor grounds. That was about all the two did when they ever saw one another, the last week being nothing but polite nods and quiet passings.

The whole thing had Damian on edge, the similarities in appearance had not gone unnoticed by him. Despite Danny’s lack of emotional expression, his other qualities were too hard to leave ignored. The teen was fit, the muscle he had seemed to come from experience in combat, and the few scars on his arms seemed to back this theory. He was also extremely quiet, beyond that of a regular person or even an assassin. When Danny had discovered the library, he had gone to ask his father if he had permission to take books to and from. Damian had nearly spat out his water when he saw his father jump from being tapped on the shoulder.

He was sure Danny hadn’t noticed the surprise as his father was excellent at hiding his emotions when he desired to. Damian, however, couldn’t remove the shock from his face as the teen had just returned to the library to collect the books he wished to read. He finally wrote it off as a fluke, sure he must have imagined it until Duke entered the kitchen not an hour later clutching his chest. Danny had apparently tried asking if Pennyworth kept any homemade snacks around the manor.

“That kid is going to be the death of me, this is the third time this week he’s scared the living daylights out of me just to ask a question.” Duke complained hand to his heart.

“I think he’s here as a test by my grandfather. He must be an assassin or a sleeper agent, he snuck up on father no more than an hour ago.” Damian responded, crushing his empty juice box.

“Are you jealous?” Duke laughed.

“Never! I’m simply suggesting we keep our guard up!” Damian sputtered, throwing away the cardboard container.

“I’m pretty sure he’s just a kid. Though there is something off, he could be a metahuman like me. The lights in a room always seem to dim slightly when he’s there, not enough to be noticed by the average person but with my abilities it’s hard not to notice.” Duke explained.

“Grayson must have learned something at this point, even with Drake’s help this seems to be taking too long.”  He complained, pulling out his phone.

“Good luck reaching him, he’s been on daylight duty to help out with the new schedule everyone is on.” Duke huffed, leaning on the counter.

“Well, something must be done, the Waynes never stay in the dark for long.” Damian boasted.

“Do you mind moving? You’re blocking the fridge.”  A voice broke in from next to Damian, Duke, and him to freeze. Turning their attention to the foster kid who somehow entered the room without either of them noticing. Damian gave a small nod before moving out of the way, watching Danny gather some ice for his cup and grab water from the sink. Finally leaving the room as quietly as he had entered.

“That kid is just creepy.” Duke whispered, breaking the silence.

“Agreed.” Damian’s eyes were still focused on the door.

- - -

Danny’s last week had been great aside from being stuck in another foster home. Of all the homes it definitely could’ve been worse. They let him wander the grounds as much as he wanted, not that his exploration had led to any promising escape routes. The home held a large library that Jazz would’ve been thrilled to see, a fully equipped gym with gymnastic equipment, a basketball court, and of course a large ballroom for parties. Danny had been tempted to ask if they had a pool, but his foster family seemed to be very jumpy. Whenever he went to ask a question, they seemed surprised to see him there. He didn’t take it personally, it was a very large home, and they probably weren’t used to having an extra person wandering the halls.

Sam and Tucker had made plenty of jokes that they should make him wear a bell. Jazz seconded this when he was almost hit in the head by a psychology textbook that she had thrown his way. Thinking of his friends and family back home was probably the hardest part of all this. Every time he looked at the computer in his new room, he thought about logging into Doomed to see if his friends were online or if he made a new email if he could reach out without the GIW taking notice. The risk outweighed the cost, unfortunately, even missing them was pushing the limits.

That fact was the only thing keeping him from dwelling on everything that happened. He knew if he thought back to his parents, every emotion he was trying to hold inside would rush out of him like a flood. He was fortunate no nightmares had come up while in Gotham, he wasn’t sure how well the Fenton Finder would track emotions brought on by sleep. Thinking on the subject, Danny was reminded that it was now 11 am in the Manor. He had spent most of that morning lying in bed reading, he was running out of things to do without school lingering over his head.

Dragging himself from the warmth of the queen-sized bed, he dressed for the day in his old jeans and a Wonder Woman t-shirt gifted to him from Duke. They apparently had a lot of old clothes left by the previous kids who had lived in the manor that either no longer fit them or had been forgotten. Danny didn’t mind and liked being able to learn a little about the heroes that the rest of the world seemed to enjoy. Not that he learned much aside from the hero’s name when Duke gave him the shirt.

As he made his way towards the kitchen for some food, a voice he was unfamiliar with echoed from a room ahead. This room was one of the many lounges that filled the first floor. Making his way over he peeked inside to see Duke, Damian, and two other teens. They were closer to Jazz’s age though a little older. One looked a little too similar to himself with tired icy blue eyes and a mop of black hair. Though unlike Danny’s own hair which was parted to the side, his was parted to the center. Next to him was a girl with long blonde hair wearing jeans and a purple shirt.

“So, things have been boring city side?” Duke asked the tired boy.

“Pretty much, ever since the Riddler’s attack last week, it has been quiet. Luckily no one had been hurt other than a few blocks of public property.” The boy went on, eyes glued to his phone.

“We’re more interested in what’s been happening here. It’s not every day the Manor gains someone new who spends most of their time at the Manor.” The girl chimed in.

“He’s pretty similar to what Dick mentioned; he’s quiet, keeps to himself, and doesn’t show any emotion. The no-emotion thing isn’t even that bad, it’s the other stuff that keeps us on our toes.” Duke explained, a tired sigh escaping at the end.

“What do mean?” the boy asked, looking up from his phone.

“He was able to surprise Father without trying.” Damian scowled. The other two mystery guests held looks of surprise. Guess they’ve never been able to scare their dad before, Danny thought to himself.

“Not to mention the thing with the lights—” “Hold on a second.” Duke was midsentence before the black-haired teen shushed him looking at the door. Danny moved back from the door as quietly as he could, walking further down the hall in case anyone spotted him. He didn’t back it more than 5 steps from the door.

“Hold it!” The girl from before called after him, he froze at her voice before turning to look at her.

“Yes?” Part of him felt guilty for eavesdropping but he couldn’t let that guilt show, so he had to just take a deep breath as he turned to face her.

“You’re the new foster kid, correct?” she asked, not waiting for his answer before dragging him by the arm back to the room.

“Yes, I am, but why am I being dragged in?” he questioned, sitting on one of the two couches in the room.  Now having a better look at the room, he could see the few bookshelves lining a wall filled with knick-knacks. The couches were a deep brown leather that matched the wooden floors, with a pale green rug between them. The coffee table between the couches held a bowl full of randomly shaped wooden balls.

“We’d like to ask you some questions, but first introductions. I’m assuming Duke and Damian didn’t really tell you much about the others.” She went on, plopping herself on the couch across from him.

“In our defense, it seemed rude to interrogate the new kid on his first day.” Duke refuted sitting next to the girl.

“Moving along, I’m Tim Drake and this is Stephanie Brown. While neither of us currently lives at the Manor we both tend to visit often. I work with Bruce at Wayne Industries and Steph lives on campus at Gotham University.” Tim answered, choosing to sit in a nearby armchair to the left and Damian stood to the right of the couches. Truly closing him in and leaving him with no normal escape routes.

“How many of you are there? Does Mr. Wayne just collect orphans or something?” Danny asked, he remembered seeing Tim’s name on the family tree on the first day. Damian had mentioned his father needed to expand the painting.

“Just about, it’s more like we find him.” Tim laughed. Sharing a look with Duke and Stephanie. “If we go by legal adoption there are five of us, if we go by who has rooms at the manor it’s around eight give or take a few friends.”

“Now it’s our turn! I’m guessing no questions on home or personal life?” Stephanie asked, Danny nodded yes. At least their being considerate of boundaries, he thought. “So, Danny, right? Anything you like to do or have an interest in? How do you like Gotham?”

“Well, I like video games and comic books. I’m really interested in space and spaceships, got to see a shuttle on vacation one summer. Gotham is okay though the smog is annoying, other than that I haven’t seen much of the city. I’m pretty sure you already know why I’m on a not-so-subtle house arrest.” Danny checked off; he didn’t see the harm in listing his interests, none of it would reveal his identity.

“Yeah, word spreads fast in this family.” Duke laughed, rubbing his arm nervously.

“It’s a shame though, other than the supervillains Gotham has some good spots to check out.” Stephanie sighed, then a smile crept onto her face. “Do you have a favorite superhero?”

Danny had to think for a moment, he couldn’t say himself obviously. No one outside of Amity Park knew who he was, but other than Batman and Superman Danny didn’t know any other supers.

“Not really? I know of Batman and Superman but other than them I don’t know anything about the heroes. I was usually too busy to look at the news and see what was going on. Oh! And Wonder Woman thanks to the shirt Duke gave me but that’s it.” Danny answered, everyone seemed to accept that answer except Stephanie.

“Wait, so you don’t know anything about Justice League? Any of the founding members?” she clarified.

“Not a thing.” Danny deadpanned. Stephanie gave him a look like she was going to make his world explode.

“So, you don’t know that Superman and Martian Manhunter are aliens and that we’re opening communications with Mars?” She blurted. Danny had to take a moment to process what she said, he knew Superman might be an alien but to have it confirmed.

Also, since when did the Earth have open communications with Mars? Since when did they know how to get to Mars? Did the requirements for astronauts change? He thought to himself, Do they let supers work with NASA? Can I go to space despite my grades because of my powers?

“Steph, I think you broke him.” Duke stated as they watched the foster kid seem to spiral into thought, he had rested into the couch, his hands together as he stared into space lost in thought. Like many times before the lights in the room had been slightly dimmed with the appearance of Danny but now, they seemed to brighten and sparkle. Despite his lack of emoting Duke could tell Danny was excited at the news, an aura of blue swirled and popped around him like fireworks in a blizzard. He had never seen anything like it with the others. He’d have to bring it up when alone with the rest of the Bats.

“I know we can’t leave the grounds, but do we have anything on the recent history of space exploration.” Danny quietly asked, coming back from his mental rave. The group all gave each other a look before Tim spoke up.

“We can do you one better, one of the perks of having one of the richest parents in Gotham.” He answered, “If you can prove you can handle going out on the town without trying to make a run for it, we can see if we can convince Bruce to pull some strings and get us a tour of STAR Labs in Metropolis.”

“Seriously? I thought you were going to say NASA for a second.” Danny said sitting up straighter.

“NASA is great if you go through the government, but STAR Labs is privately funded and though they don’t have a branch that specializes in space exploration I know that they have a few teams dedicated to it in Metropolis. It is the home of Superman after all.” Tim smiled.

 Danny looked between them all considering everything. Yes, it was a chance to escape, but he hadn’t had the time to explore his passions in so long. Could he really afford to stay longer? Keeping his emotions in check was getting easier, but was it because he was getting better or due to him being alone? Danny felt for the burner phone in his pocket, feeling reassured by its weight against his thigh. There was only one way to know for sure if this place was somewhere he could stay safely.

“Okay, so where do you want to go?” Danny asked.

- - -

“Welcome to Gotham Mall, imaginative we know.” Stephanie waved to the large glass door that led into a large mall center.

“Isn’t there a lot of crime here? How is this place still open?” Danny asked as they all exited the car.

“Well, this mall is located near the GCPD headquarters so if any crime does happen it tends to be on the small end. Gangs and thugs mostly, plus they opted for bulletproof glass and reinforced the walls so they’re less likely to collapse in the case of explosives.” Tim explained, leading the group inside. The inside was no different to any other mall Danny had been to, off-white tile covered the floor, and the walls were lined with shops. Mostly clothing and tech stores but a few novelty stores were sprinkled in, and he didn’t recognize a single store.

“Where to first?” Stephanie chirped, grabbing him by the arm, Duke following by his side as he was dragged into the first clothing store that caught their attention. The following hours were a dizzying whirlpool of clothing and shops. The group had decided that handy-downs and the whole two outfits he had brought were not enough.

They had him looking and trying on so many clothes that even if he wanted to there was no way he could have snuck away without using his powers. It eventually bled into everyone trying on clothes, Damian was even caught in the crossfire. The older teens mentioned he needed to dress less like a mini-Bruce more often and offered a variety of clothes. Steph won him over with a few animal-themed pieces though they were very subtle.

Danny was about to question how they were going to pay for everything at check out when he saw Steph holding a debit card with Bruce’s name. He had forgotten for a moment who his new foster family was. It was constantly thrown back into his face as they made their way through the mall. Slowly people began to recognize the small group, a few double takes at Tim and Damian and photos being snapped of the whole group. Danny pulled up the hood on his new hoodie that he’d bought at the last store. Trying his best to block his face from the onlookers.

The others shared a look before deciding to go to the food court for a late lunch. They found a table towards the back corner. Tucked away from the entrance with fake plant décor blocking their view. Duke and Tim went off to buy some pizza for the group leaving him with just Stephanie and Damian. The silence was daunting as Danny waited for the inevitable questions regarding his attempts to hide himself.

“Well, got to love the paparazzi making a family outing awkward.” Stephanie laughed trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to having all of Gotham’s eyes on me.”

“Agreed, it’s even worse at the galas when the other socialites expect you to entertain the thought of enjoying their company.” Damian grumbled. Danny felt the tension in his shoulders dissipate, he hadn’t even considered they probably didn’t want the attention either. Vlad always basked in the attention of other powerful and influential people. Danny mentally face-palmed himself; he needed to stop assuming every rich person was like Vlad, it made him just as bad as his parents.

“Though the gossip the Gotham Gazette tries to start is hilarious, their social media threads couldn’t fool anyone,” Steph smirked pulling out her phone. “I remember when they covered Dick’s return to Gotham after he moved to Blüdhaven, all smears about a secret love child he had to be hiding there.”

“Wasn’t last week’s post about Drake’s most recent kidnapping? I remember him fuming over getting caught by those buffoons again.” Drake smiled.

“Let’s see what’s up now.” Steph went on scrolling through her feed. “Okay, we have the top ten photos of Bruce Wayne from the last charity ball, the best moments of the Wayne family caught on film… oh! We have a few from earlier up, though the only thing trending on them is the fact Tim and Damian are both here and not fighting.” She frowned as Damian looked at the phone.

“Tch, we haven’t fought in public for at least a year. You point a katana at someone one time!” Damian huffed. The two of them were still scrolling through the most recent posts with the others returned with the pizza. They called out the ones that were actually funny and were amazed at how quickly video edits had been made of them. To Danny’s relief, he was not mentioned in a single post and had been cut out of many of the photos. He finally was able to relax again and enjoy a normal afternoon.

Tim was happy Dick’s lost kid seemed to be enjoying himself, though unlike Stephanie he went searching for the photos about him. Only one or two posts seemed to be centered around him, people asking who he was and why he was there. None contained a clear photo or answer, it was like every time the camera was about to have a clear picture before something got in the way. The weirdest photo he was able to find contained no blurb above the photo and didn’t reference the Waynes at all.

The photo was of Danny with his hood up turning to look behind him, it was blurred leaving his face unclear even though everyone around him was unaltered. The lighting was strange, making it seem his eyes were green and glowing. It was getting little to no attention aside from a few comments talking about it being fake and edited. Still, he screenshots of the post and sent both the image and the link to Babs and Dick before rejoining the table’s conversation.

- - -

Pardon the delay in the chapter, if you follow my Tumblr you will know I took part in Invisobang this year! I got to create the cover art for the fic Kingdom Come by Bloggerspam, I highly recommend checking it out! I also started my first semester at my new college. I'm still figuring out the balance between homework and writing, but this fic is still a big goal for me. I'm thinking about the plot of this fic all the time and I'm very excited about future chapters! Speaking of future chapters, updates will be spread out once a month now to accommodate my new schedule and I will be applying small edits to previous chapters to fix spelling errors and formating so expect to see notifications about that. Thank you all for the support and enjoy the next chapter!

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