#3) what i can only presume is a private joke at the very end. i want to Know!!

[sounwise]

Letter from Paul McCartney and Jane Asher [sent to Robert Fraser shortly after he was sentenced to several months in prison at Wormwood Scrubbs on June 29, 1967] Dear Robert, What a drag…you know what I mean. Brother Nick [Nicholas Fraser] rang and asked about the bread. All will be well, I’ll be back in London on Sunday, and on Monday I’ll sort it out. Everybody was amazed by the whole scene, as you’ve guessed, and rally is the word. Thursday [June 29, 1967] was one of those days…bank raid shooting, Jayne Mansfield dead…etc…and I tore a ligament in sympathy, so I am hobbling around the Wirral. Jane sends her love, love, and is baking a file cake. I send mine. The handcuff pictures in the papers are incredible, and ‘aroused public sympathy’. Mind you, a tennis player from the Upton Tennis Club (where balls are known as spheres) was overheard saying that he would have given the blighters ten years if he’d been the judge…What???… See you soon…nothing to say really. Sincerely best wishes Paul McCartney Jane Asher THE OFFICIAL ELVIS PRESLEY FAN CLUB OF GREAT BRITAIN

[—from Groovy Bob: The Life and Times of Robert Fraser, Harriet Vyner]

[linklethehistorian]

“The Storm” — A BSD Manga Chapter 95 Theory

Alright, so…this little meta article is probably going to be a lot less professional and more ramble-y than my standard fair, because I’m doing this off-the-cuff and not writing it and re-writing over a matter of days or weeks or months, as I usually do, but nevertheless, I want to talk about it because, although some might find it unlikely, I personally feel there is more than enough merit to the idea to put it out there, even if it later turns out to be wrong.

The rest of this will be under the cut due to spoilers for the manga up to Chapter 95 (and maybe a few chapters after that, just to be safe?) of the BSD manga, along with spoilers for the light novels Fifteen and its sequel, Storm Bringer (and maybe a small bit of 55 Minutes), so yes, bare that in mind before you proceed. 

Since I have no idea where else to start with this, let’s take a little trip back in time; it’s October 10, 2021, Chapter 95 just recently released, and I’m experiencing it pretty much for the first time with @truedge, posting the scans 3 pages at a time in our private Discord server and chatting about it as we read along.  It’s all fun, laughs, and games until the pages talking about the protective ability placed around One Order come up, and he cracks a simple joke:

At first, I laughed, and then —

All at once, it hits me like a ton of bricks. I — the one who should have been the first to recognize his ability in an instant — embarrassingly did not have this click in my head for a solid three minutes until the joke was made. Holy crap, he was right.

I stopped, looked back over the pages, scanned the manga for any information I could, and the evidence kept building and building, and pretty soon I had a solid, bonafide theory on my hands, worthy of showing to the world.

And so, I present to you my theory — a theory which ties the end of Storm Bringer and the main BSD manga together at last: what I like to call “The Storm.”

“But Linkle! Arthur is dead by current time! There’s no way his ability can be involved with guarding One Order!”  …Just…hear me out.

Physical Appearance

First of all, please take a good look at the ability guarding One Order, which we are shown in Chapter 95, and compare it with the canonical light novel interpretation of Arthur’s very unique ability, Illuminations, as shown in Fifteen and Storm Bringer.

Here is the ability guarding One Order:

And here is Arthur’s ability (bear in mind they are showing many cubes together here, but they are all cubes like the above).

Illuminations is a very unique ability; there are none that look like it, and I have a very hard time believing that this is just a coincidence. 

Facts, Attributes & Powers

However, that is, of course, not at all the sole evidence for my theory. Next, let’s review the basic facts we know about the ability placed around One Order:

1) It was put in place by the European authorities many, many years ago (presumably around the time of the Great War) as a failsafe to prevent misuse.

2) It is a dimension-severing ability — an ability that creates its own dimension and protects that which is inside from being reached by those outside through these means.

3) It cannot be destroyed by force or through any other physical means.

Now what do we know about Arthur’s Illuminations? How does it compare to this description?

Well, for the first point, Arthur is a European ability user employed by the French government as a special agent/spy due to his incredible Transcendental powers; he is said to be the “heresy of heresies” — e.i., the strongest of all Transcendentals/Transcendents (you choose the name, I prefer Transcendental and not Transcendent), whom themselves are the strongest ability users in the world, numbering only in the tens, and all appear to be European in nature. (It is stated that the Hunting Dogs were artificially enhanced to try to rival them in the Great War, as Japan has no natural-born Transcendentals.) I hardly think it impossible to say that the European authorities might have called upon Arthur Rimbaud to protect One Order with Illuminations, placing a hyperspace around it to keep it from harm or misuse. Furthermore, as I said before, to my memory (please correct me if I am wrong), One Order seems to have been implied to have been created, or at least sealed away, roughly around the time of the Great War; many Transcendentals, if not all of them, were made to fight in this war, likely including Arthur, so he almost definitely would have been on-hand to ask, and quite willing, given his hatred of war.

Speaking of which, this may also loosely be seen as connecting to the words the Frenchman spoke to Dazai regarding the subject of war in Fifteen; after all, he seemed to have a very strong opinion then about believing war is truly not necessary for living, but how, despite that, “someone will always try to get ahead of the others”, and that is why the world does not have peace. Given this mindset, I think it would be logical for the European government to want his help, as choosing someone who sees the world this way would be very beneficial when wanting to keep that very thing that could allow someone to “get ahead of others” out of everyone’s reach.

As for the second and third point, that pretty much describes Arthur’s ability exactly, doesn’t it? Illuminations is an ability that creates a subspace (or many subspaces, as Arthur has been shown to be able to create a multitude of them before) which exists in its own dimensions in which all known laws of physics do not apply in the way we would expect them to, and only the things and people which he decides to allow can get in or out of that space, at the time when he decides to allow it. It is even (according to the canon novels at least, and not the ridiculous anime adaption) an impenetrable barrier that cannot truly be destroyed physically, even by Dazai himself, and was well capable of containing him.

Storm Bringer’s End, Paul Verlaine, & the Mysterious ‘Storm’

Now, that all sounds well and good, of course; if Arthur were still completely alive, I’m fairly confident I could have just ended my theory here at “the ability protecting One Order is, in fact, Illuminations” and called it a day, considering all of the overwhelming evidence that they are one and the same gift.

Unfortunately, Arthur being ‘dead’ in present time makes that a bit…harder.

…Or at least, that’s what you’d think from looking at it from a quick glance. In reality, there’s actually a very simple solution to that ‘problem’:

Namely, Arthur isn’t really, truly, fully ‘dead’.  At the end of Storm Bringer, Arthur rescues a dying Paul, revealing that he is a ghost and has remained in the world with his ability still fully intact and able to be actively used, by also using it on himself at the moment of his initial death at the hands of Chuuya and Dazai, creating a singularity.

As he gives that singularity to Paul by placing a part of his ability in his heart to keep him alive, we watch Arthur fade away, which we presume to be him ‘dying’ a second time, even as a spirit, but…no. It very clearly states that it is a ‘redshift’ — essentially, Arthur’s spirit is shifting away to some unknown place or dimension, out of sight, but not obliterated. Not gone.

Professor N, in this same story, states that an ability cannot keep existing without its owner being alive in some manner, so the very fact that Paul is even still alive through a part of Arthur’s ability in and of itself implies Arthur’s soul is also still alive and out there somewhere.

But let’s take it even a step farther: I’ve seen so many people talking about the end of the book, where Paul is still in the Mafia basement to this day, waiting for his storm. What is “the Storm”? It’s an obvious lead-on that Paul will appear in the manga at some point — as if him being an executive didn’t already make it a given. But what does it mean? What is Paul waiting for?

To me, the answer is obvious.

It is established in Storm Bringer that the only thing, the only person, Paul is interested in seeing — the only thing that could ever motivate him to go outside — is Arthur Rimbaud. Then, we are told about “the Storm”, which apparently is also another reason. Normally, that would seem a contradiction, yet…what if they are one and the same?

Everyone thinks that “the Storm” is referring to some big, cataclysmic event, and maybe to some extent that is also true, but I think it actually may mean something else — something far more personal to Paul, his overall character, and his author namesake.

In real life, Paul Verlaine and Arthur Rimbaud’s romantic relationship was referred to again and again, infamously, as one thing: ‘stormy’. They had a “stormy relationship”. 

Dare I say it is hardly unexpected that Asagiri-sensei might just have chosen the term “storm” for a deeper reason than just some allusion to an ominous event in the near future? Yes, I do dare; as someone who knows the life stories of their irl selves incredibly well, I can confidently say that the amount of information and love our BSD creator put into their characters is staggering, as some of this information that is referenced is extremely hard to come by. There is no reason to think that he wasn’t acutely aware of how their relationship was so commonly defined or that it didn’t play a role in that decision. Not to me, at least. I don’t think it’s an accident at all.

That said, it could and probably does simultaneously refer to a cataclysmic event as many theorize, as well — but more specifically, one involving Arthur in some way. One like this.

If things go south with his vampire plan, and Fukuchi’s only remaining option becomes destroying the ability sealing One Order — an ability which cannot itself be destroyed, mind you — his only recourse would be to find the ability user maintaining it and kill them. And if this theory is true, that means finding Arthur’s soul and destroying it — something which Paul would absolutely find a to be worthy reason for him to finally leave the basement and stop it. Or, alternatively, it could mean him finding out Paul has that ability in his heart, mistaking it for belonging to him, and trying to kill him. Perhaps even both.

Either way, the situation plays out the same: Paul would have to go outside to defend the one thing that matters to him. And would he be capable of it? Well, it’s unclear how much energy for his ability Paul has, actually, since his singularity was destroyed and replaced with Arthur’s, but regardless of the answer, I wholly believe he could fight and defeat Fukuchi if it came to it.

With all of his strength and abilities, or even a fraction of it, he’s more than matched against that man, given he was able to take on almost 30 ability users and 500 armed mafiosos at once and still survive in Storm Bringer just using his lowest level powers.

But even in the event he were completely without power, I could still see it happening. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the strongest ability users in the Port Mafia are mostly being picked off and turned into vampires or otherwise removed. After all, what is the continued theme of this arc that Fyodor mentioned many chapters back — with Sigma, with Aya, and I’m sure many more to come?  It isn’t the person with the strongest ability that will come out on top, it is the ordinary, desperate man who has nothing to lose in the fight.

And Paul absolutely has nothing to lose. Everything he wanted has already been lost.

…Or has it?

[icharchivist]

Btw I went back and reread the part in Old Bond where Seofon jumps in, fully ready to end Lu Woh and. That is a very cool scene. And a very cool thing he did

And like you said, Seofon is dropping his mask and letting the guy catch a glimpse of his powers, which is arguably the first time he's so readily done that, which shows not only how serious a threat Lu Woh is, but also how much Seofon cares about the MC. And that he can hold his own against this serious threat, which is great foreshadowing to and you where his other self presumably wrestles the wedges for fun

Anyway, considering that now the Dragons and the Eternals are on somewhat friendly terms with each other, Lu Woh watches everyone treat Seofon like a joke. Seofon, the man with the 5G boundary connection. I imagine Lu Woh is just standing there, sweating bullets. Doesn't he have to assume that the reason everyone brushes Seofon off like that is because they're all on that level of power, if not above it? That he's hanging out with a group of potential God killers?

I like him, but I'm fine with him being a bit scared of them like that. Serves him right <3

YESS YES YES YES.

Like i find the way Seofon drops the mask to be SO interesting considering he didn't even have a mask dropping moment in Seeds of Redemption when Seox was in danger yaknow? like, sure, he was actually working with the Crew of Enforcers then to drive Nehan out, but once Nehan was driven out, Seofon is still his chill self (which is why Tien and Feower especially really almost eviscerated him).

So like, we've seen Seofon seeing his companions being threatened before, but it's really the first time we see him fully drop the mask on that regard.

And like, of course the situations were still different in term of what Seofon saw of each fights and the intentions of the people hurting his friends, but also i think it tells a lot on how he could see Nehan (someone Seox could manage, especially once Seox decides to deal with it on his own), and how he immediately saw Lu Woh as a threat the moment dear Danchou wasn't able to keep up with him.

It says a lot about how much he cares for MC, about how much of a threat he considered Lu Woh, about how seeing MC collapse was both an indication of something going wrong and that Lu Woh was just this much of a threat--

But it's such a good moment to really see Seofon being serious, and you're so right, works as a perfect foreshadowing once we see Sieten't battle wedges for fun. Like of course he has this type of power.

as for that last observation i LOVE it. Having to see Seofon put on the charade again and no one brings it up is either means no one knows just how dangerous Seofon is and now they're all clowning him over his tummy hurting :( which is bewildering, or they're all on the same level enough to neglect him, which is even worse.

and meanwhile none of the others dragons really know how deeply scary Seofon can be (because like, there also was a private moment between Lu Woh and Seofon just after the battle, because Lu Woh tried to sneak in to heal MC and Seofon was being a watchdog and threatened him). So it's such an eerie place to be.

Lu Woh deserves to be a bit scared, i think it's also kinda the point of Old Bonds. Old Bonds was all about how the dragons, being the wedges holding the world together, couldn't trust the skydwellers, mortals with soft bodies, with the responsibility and power that came with Bahamut's legacy inside of the Red Dragon.

Seofon scaring Lu Woh is one of the major way for it to happen. Because as Lucio realized in 000, the reason Skydwellers will always win despite being mortals and fragiles, is because once they band together and fight for one another, nothing can stop them.

Lu Woh was only testing the Singularity. He didn't care about the others lives around them. And he learnt the hard way that not only he can't underestimate the individuals on the crew as individuals, but that in their desires to protect one another they would call for greater powers than they would let anyone see in other circumstances.

Lu Woh was taught the exact lesson Lucio had to learn as well. Thank you Seofon for delivering it.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Typical Vampire shenanigans + mentions of animal death Genre: Hurt + comfort Summary: Time to meet the family! What exactly has Cassandra told her mother? Can Bela convince her family to calm the hell down? We'll find out! Spoiler: there's the start of a cute date afterwards Notes: Once more we visit Bela's private study, which I first described in a chapter of Serenade. Added a few more details this time. PS reader is probably low-key a theater nerd with a hint of a goth phase, just saying. Also this chap is a little short, sorry. Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow, 2: Tangled Strands

3: Rumbling Thunder

Heart racing, you step into the dining room, just behind Bela. Both of you are nervous, but find comfort in each other. Still, what you see upon entering only makes you feel worse. At the head of a large table stands none other than Lady Alcina Dimitrescu. Besides her is her middle daughter, the one who confronted you earlier, who sends you a knowing smirk as you walk in. Lady Dimitrescu, on the other hand, is scowling. Her eyes are squinted in a clear display of disapproval. If not for Bela’s hand squeezing your own, it was likely that you would have fainted from fear.

“I see Cassandra has wasted no time in spreading rumors,” Bela said bitterly. You’re amazed by her ability to stand tall in the face of her family’s tension. Yet there was a part of you that wondered if you were worth the struggle, at least for your soulmate. Thankfully, you are not given much time to ponder the thought. No, you’re being pulled towards the closest side of the tabe, guided next to an ornate seat. Neither Bela nor yourself sit yet, however. “Please, mother, do not be hasty to make your judgement. I promise that-”

“Do not presume to tell me of my own business, daughter. The timing of my judgement is my prerogative, not yours,” Lady Dimitrescu interrupted, staring right at you. A shiver runs down your spine at the eye contact. What did Cassandra say to her? You wonder, struggling to breathe past the lump in your throat. Even Bela becomes visibly nervous at the interaction. “Now… are you certain, without a doubt, that this is your soulmate?” Did she really even have to ask? What were the chances that Bela would save you, one person out of at least a dozen in the cellar, for any other reason? Still, your soulmate straightens up at the attention, and replies as confidently as possible.

“Yes, of course, mother. I would not dare risk your anger for any lesser reason,” Bela assured. Then she gives your hand another soft squeeze, before pulling hers back a little, catching the thread that bound you together with her fingers. Lifting it, she tugs it somewhat absentmindedly. Out of habit you immediately return the action. Unfortunately, those around you would be unable to see the display. For all they knew, the two of you could be faking it, simply attempting to get out of the situation unscathed. Surprisingly though, you see Alcina hesitate. Her left hand twitches as if she was thinking of her own red string. Has she ever met her partner? Did she know the pure joy that her daughter had so recently felt?... Maybe she’d be more sympathetic to your situation if she had.

“We will see if your defiance pans out in time, Bela. For now… Why don’t we hear what your pet has to say about themselves, hmm?” Lady Dimitrescu suggested, giving a somewhat devious smile. Next to you, Bela grimaces, then sends you a pleading look. Alas, you cannot read her mind, and can only guess as to how you’re supposed to respond. Bowing is a sign of respect in virtually all cultures, you think, probably a good place to start.

“It is an immeasurable pleasure to formally make your acquaintance, Lady Dimitrescu,” you said, before giving your full name. Then you rise from your bow, once more making eye contact. Out of the corner of your vision you see Cassandra rolling her eyes. “I know that I am a mere human, and hardly the epitome of a prime specimen. But I am determined to prove my worth, for there is no prize on this earth more grand than being allowed to love Lady Bela. Every ounce of my willpower is prepared to devote myself to this task, entirely, so that I may give Lady Bela the courtship and happiness that she is deserving. It is both an obligation and an honor.” Hopefully your soulmate wouldn’t mind you using the same line twice, at least under these circumstances.

In the seconds that follow, several things happen: One, you see Cassandra frown a little, and refuse to look in your direction. Two, Lady Dimitrescu makes a surprised face, but quickly shifts into an expression of satisfaction. Thirdly, Bela’s hand finds your own again, giving it an incredibly soft squeeze. Last but not least… someone you haven’t seen before enters the room. She has red hair, a green pendant around her neck, and eyes that light up with curiosity when she sees you. If you had to guess, you’d assume that she was another one of Bela’s sisters. Here’s hoping she’s a tad bit friendlier, you think.

“Did I miss anything? Ooh, please tell me we’re having this lovely stranger for breakfast?” She asked, grinning maniacally. So much for being friendlier, you think, figuring that she was being literal. Based on the way Bela tenses up in response, you’re probably right. Before she can protest, however, Lady Dimitrescu clears her throat and speaks.

“Ah, Daniela… This stranger-” she says the word with far less venom than you anticipated, but it is venom nonetheless- “is your dear sister’s soulmate. We will not be draining them of blood. Again. Assuming that they behave themselves. Is that clear?” She asked, staring down at the newcomer. There’s a slight pause, tension still lingering in the air, followed by a sigh of relief from Bela. Much to your surprise, neither Cassandra nor Daniela seem particularly upset by this announcement. In fact, the latter simply shrugs and takes her seat at the table. Next thing you know everyone else is sitting as well, including Bela, who gestures for you to follow suit. “I’ll have one of the servants fetch you some more… appropriate food. Cynthia, my dear?” Soon enough a maiden, perhaps a decade or two older than yourself, hurriedly enters the room. With a bow, she addresses Alcina.

“Yes, Lady Dimitrescu?”

“Have Miss Bouregard make an extra plate of whatever it is you sort eat, and bring it here. We have an… unexpected guest,” Alcina explained. At that, Cynthia glances at you, her eyes briefly widening in surprise. Without another word she turns away, giving another bow before heading away to fulfill her task. Once more you’re the only human in the room. Oddly enough, you manage to feel quite at ease, as if surviving one round was enough to guarantee you’d win the overall game. Well, at the very least you now had a chance. Regardless of what was to come, you were glad for that, for this opportunity to be with your soulmate. At the end of the day… little else mattered to you.

———————————

Much to your relief, the rest of breakfast proceeded smoothly. Conversation was sparse, with most of it being hushed whispers from the other side of the table, but you hardly minded. Normally you would find it rude. Now, you were simply pleased that they weren’t being up front with their hostility. More so, it allowed you and Bela to have your own conversation, which mainly pertained to your plans for the day. Several times during your discussion, a glance elsewhere would show you that Alcina was paying attention. Exactly once you even saw her attempting to hide a smile. A sense of pride had swelled in your chest at the sight.

It has remained there, even until now, as you move into Bela’s private study. One quick survey of the room tells you a thousand things about your soulmate. For starters, it’s clear that she’s musically inclined. There’s a harp in one corner, adjacent to a folded music stand, as well as a small bookshelf dedicated entirely to sheet music. A couple medium sized instrument cases are nearby, but you don’t immediately recognize their shape. Further into the room is a rather old looking desk, slightly worn, yet clearly cared for. Possibly passed down the generations? Next to the desk is a massive window with a couple spare chairs. All across the walls were bookshelves and mementos, including several skulls (at least one of them human). Every book you looked over appeared to be well read, with many bookmarks inside, some held together by tape and prayers.

“This… this is sublime, my darling. I could rest here for a month and hardly finish cherishing half the space!” You said, grinning at your soulmate. She’s equally pleased, seeming a tad relieved as well. Perhaps she had worried you’d be thrown off by the skulls? Wanting to reassure her, you approach that particular shelf, examining them closely. However, you do not touch them, not wanting to risk damaging her collection. “Truly marvellous. Dare I ask where you got these specimens?” It’s a joke, but Bela stiffens nonetheless, making you quickly redact your statement. “My apologies, I meant it as a jest. Though you are welcome to tell me more about them if you so desire! I will listen with rapt attention, I promise.”

“Most of them are gifts from Cassandra. During the summers we hunt, her more so than Daniela or myself. I… dislike wasting anything, and there’s only so much to be done with most bones. They have quite a few ornamental uses, however. Useful for study, as well,” Bela mentioned, smiling softly. Then she moves to stand next to you, carefully reaching to grab one of the skulls. “This was from one of our hounds, actually. I raised her from puppy to adult, took her on every hunt, even let her sleep in my quarters on colder nights. When she got sick I…” A pause, mouth open but unmoving, eyes slipping shut. “I couldn’t bring myself to put her down. Even argued with my mother, night after night, begging for another choice. None came, of course, and in the end even I could not deny her the softest embrace of death… Still, you must think me strange, to keep such a thing as a reminder of her.”

“Not at all, my dear. We all remember, and grieve, in our own ways. I’ve often found myself intrigued by skulls, of all sorts,” you admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “All we are, our minds or mayhap our souls, contained in one hard shell. It’s incredible, and terrifying, all at the same time, to hold one in my hands, or even merely examine one. Oh, what stories these bones could tell, if only they could talk… Though I suppose there are entire fields of science devoted to such a thought…” With that said, you look back at Bela just in time to see her staring fondly at the canine skull. Then she places it back on its perch, dusting her hands off afterwards, taking one last moment to appreciate her collection.

“I’m glad you and I agree on this,” she said softly. Once more she’s looking at you, smiling wide. “Now let’s make memories of our own, to hold in our bones forevermore, yes?”

[bitchassbucky]

.avi

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning/s: nsfw! (literally) stalkerish themes. dark!bucky x dark-ish!reader. cybercrimes being committed. f & m masturbation. sex toy (vibrator mention). this is kinda meta, tbh.

A/N: the long-awaited part two of .exe mwahaha. we're delving not-that-deep into bucky's little thingy methinks. as always, reblogs and comments are welcomed! <3

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist

CTRL moodboard

Jesus Christ, you’re insatiable.

Bucky barely woke up when he caught you masturbating with a rabbit vibrator on your bed—laying on your stomach. The towel you thoughtfully laid on was folded halfway. He assumes that you’re a squirmer too when you come. The Friday night show was his favorite though, shame that he didn’t get any footage of it.

His dick is already hard but he’s got no time to waste just yet. Clicking open a screen recording app, he gets to work. Bucky’s already got some footage of you sleeping, cleaning up, and tidying your sheets. In his little mind palace, he’d never let you do any of these things—he’ll be the one to change the sheets, he’d tuck you in bed too.

Bucky let the program run on the desktop as he went to get his breakfast. His mind keeps drifting back to you in his office.

How do you like your coffee?

Do you even like coffee?

You look like a tea kind of person.

Maybe he’ll ask you for breakfast, as soon as he learns how your morning routine goes.

When he came back to his desk, the bed was already made up (again). He got worried for a second until your face came into the frame, your glasses fogged up with vapor.

You bring the laptop with you to the living room, along with a big mug of… something.

He’s gotta learn what you like so he can like it too.

On his side of the things, he sees that you keep your word processor running in the background. More work, perhaps? He hadn’t had the chance to check out your files just yet. He kept himself busy with your pictures and candids. Bucky had his favorites all printed out—he, of all people, knows that technology can’t be trusted, so why were you uploading these pictures of yourself?

There were ones taken in your bathroom, he presumes. On your bed. In the kitchen. By a fucking window, for crying out loud.

He wants to be the one to take these pictures, to imprint them into his memory. Seared in his brain. But not yet.

For now, he just needs to get back at making sure you’re safe in your apartment.

You’ve been staring and smiling at your phone for a while now.

What are you up to?

—

Turns out Mr. IT Guy isn’t very social-media savvy.

All his pictures are out in the open for everyone to see. You wonder what he’s like in private, then.

Maybe he likes posting candids of his new girlfriends and deleting them when it’s over? For a man who has a face of a god, you’d expect to see at least a girlfriend within the past few months.

But he doesn't. No corny pictures, no hashtags of anniversaries, no tagged photos.

You spent your morning working up yourself with your trusty vibe, the image of him fucking you by the kitchen sink fresh on your brain.

Holy shit, does he have that effect on everyone?

What if you wander into his office after a shift and you’d find him stroking his cock? Would you close the door and never speak of it? Maybe you’d smirk and walk over him, sinking down on your knees to suck him off.

God, now you’re all worked up again. Horny, hot, and bothered. That’s good though, then you’d have the energy to finish the chapter you left a week ago.

—

So you’re a writer by choice. Bucky knew that much.

What he wasn’t expecting though, is you write the most explicit things.

The all-white collar girl he met last week likes to get fucked roughly. Overstimulated. Choked. Gagged. Slapped. Spit on.

He’s gotta show you how to make love. Slow, sensual love. Preferably after the roughhousing, that is.

Oh, the things he’d do to you—how he’ll worship your body, head to the tip of your toes. Bucky wants to bury his cock between your lips and praise you for the good girl you are. He wants to let you know that you don’t need to be degraded in order to come.

You just need him.

Bucky’s cock twitches in his sweatpants, still painfully hard. The thick vein on the underside of his shaft protrudes, waiting for him to just fuck something warm.

His hand will do for now.

By the time he got his hand gripping the base of his cock, he’s got you in fullscreen. The recording app still running in the background.

You’re busy. Typing. Researching. Looking for words to replace ‘say.’ Your sleep shirt is loose on your soft frame.

Bucky focuses on you, then. Imagining you on your knees, right here in his apartment. You’d be wearing those glasses you have on. He knew he had a thing for girls with glasses.

He closes his eyes to indulge himself in his own movie.

Your tongue laying flat against his girth, drooling all over the thick base of his dick. He’d let you take your time licking, all the way from his balls to tip. Your lips would close around his leaking head, teasing and tasting his precum.

One of his ties would be around your wrists so you’d learn how to use your mouth.

Bucky swears to God that he felt your mouth closing in on his cock as he pistons his fist faster. A guttural moan spills out of his mouth as his toes curl, the carpet gripping the pads of his feet.

“God, fuck—Y/N.”

Bucky forgoes any kind of underwear last night, only dressing himself up with baggy sweatpants. It was for the better too. He doesn’t think he’d come so much from watching someone—well, not just someone—on the screen.

He sighs, wiping himself clean on the underside of his pants. He needs to do his laundry soon.

Bucky looks at your face longingly from his side of the screen; God, is this how long-distance couples feel?

Maybe he’ll shoot you a text later.

—

Unknown Number: I hope you’re doing well.

Unknown Number: How's your laptop?

Unknown Number: Shit, sorry, it’s Bucky from IT. :)

Your head spun in three different directions as the texts came in.

Hey, Bucky! I’m doing well. The laptop is too.

Was it too curt? Well, you didn’t want to come off too strong. It’s not like he’s been on your mind for the better half of your weekend morning.

Your stomach made a worrying flip as the message status turned Read 10:44 AM. But there was no typing bubble.

Whatever, you’re fine. You’re a busy girl. A strong, independent woman who—

IT Guy Bucky: Good! Just checking on you. We had some downtime due to system maintenance last night.

Oh, it’s work.

No problems on my end! You type in quickly, sending it. To be fair, all you had in common was a band.

Hey, I have a question. It’s not work-related.

—

Oh.

Oh, he fucked up, didn’t he?

Y/N: Do you know any restaurants near the office? I’m sick of eating take-out food. Other than the hipster hideyhole you told me.

Bucky breathed out a sigh of fucking relief when he read your text. He chuckles mostly at himself and composed a reply.

Yeah! I have a non-hideyhole spot a block away from the office. You wanna check it out sometime?

You already got inside jokes.

Is 11:30 good?

Yeah, Bucky types, a smile forming on his lips, 11:30 it is.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

How Bad is Sia’s “Music” really?

I watched it illegally (because there was no way I was paying for that bullshit) and found out. It’s not as bad as we thought... It’s worse.

TW for ableism, Sia, drugs, alcohol, just in general a terrible movie, meltdowns, blackface

Literally the first thing you hear while they’re showing the production companies is THOSE stereotypical noises. If you’ve seen the trailer, you’ll know what I mean.

And yes, she does this for the WHOLE fucking movie

What was the need to show her in her underwear? Maddie Ziegler was 14 when this was made, so what was the need??? And why did Sia prolong the scene by having her hitting herself?

Less than a minute in and my reaction was already “what the fuck is this shit?”

So the opening number not only had stereotypical exaggerated facial expression, it has Maddie in BLACKFACE?!? And with culturally appropriated hair?!?

The exaggerated facial expressions are literally constant and I took photos during the film to show it, more later, but I’ll keep mentioning it

ITS LITERALLY THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME SHE IS ON SCREEN

Even her way of walking is fucking offensive, Jesus Christ

The vocalisations just had me cringing so hard, I cannot describe how awful it made me feel

Why do all the neighbours need to be paid off and help her when she goes for a walk? I don’t-

Yes, by about the five minute mark I was already seriously debating all my life decisions. It was that bad.

Kate Hudson really didn’t give a fuck that her grandma died

I will keep saying it but WHY are the facial expressions/vocalisations CONSTANT?!! Literally they do not stop at all. I work with a child who is actually similar to this in that he’s nonverbal and he makes similar noises/faces, but the way they’re in this movie is so over-exaggerated?!? And even the kid I work with doesn’t do it 24/7?!?

Sia, calling your characters Zu and Music doesn’t make them interesting in the slightest. They’re still painfully terrible and one dimensional

Literally ONE minute after being left alone with her autistic sister, Zu calls the mental health service asking if they could “theoretically” “pick up” her sister?!? Like she wants to get rid of her already?!?

“A magical little girl” - autism isn’t a magical power?!? And Music is a young woman, not a little girl?!? Why are you infantilising her?!?

Okay I’m not being funny but this choreography is NOT hard. ANYONE can do it, so claiming that you needed to hire a dancer to be Music because of the numbers is literally bullshit (and even so, there are so many amazing autistic actors and dancers?!?)

20 minutes in and I wanted to give up

So she had her first meltdown because her hair didn’t get braided immediately and that’s... certainly interesting??

The fact that Leslie Odom’s character says “I’m going to crush you now”?!?

AND THEN HE FUCKING PICKS HER UP AND FULL-BODILY PINS HER DOWN ONTO THE FLOOR

“I’m crushing her with my love” - oh fuck you, just fuck you

So Sia lied, the restraint scenes were NOT removed and there was no warning. She’s a fucking POS liar

I have no idea why he’s called Ebo or why he has such a cliche African accent?!? I might have missed out on why because I was busy trying not to bang my head into the table while I watched this film but just... yikes

“He (his brother) liked to be held” - YEAH, HELD. NOT FUCKING CRUSHED

“He is dead now” - IM NOT FUCKING SURPRISED IF YOU CRUSHED HIM LIKE THAT

The constant babying and patronizing of the autistic character is so exhausting to watch. I’m so tired

“Planning on sending her to the people pound but I guess I’ll keep her a little longer” - SHE WAS JOKING BUT THAT WAS NOT EVEN REMOTELY A FUNNY JOKE. NOT EVEN IN AN AWKWARD WAY

STOP THE FACES IM-

^ YEAH, Sia, totally a fucking love letter to the autistic community here ^

So Zu finds this necklace she made as a kid that had a little dog on it, and she says to Music, “He had seizures too, just like you”... MELTDOWNS AND SEIZURES ARE NOT EVEN REMOTELY THE SAME FUCK THIS MOVIE-

It’s like Sia is trying to make the movie funny but it’s really not at all

Is Zu implying that Music is autistic because the mum was a junkie?!?

For real though, the dialogue in general is so fucking awful and cringey. Whoever wrote this should never be allowed to write again

Did she seriously leave her autistic sister alone to talk to who I’m presuming was her dealer or loan shark?!?

Also why is he - a white dude - wearing cornrows?!?

So who is the film really about? The autistic girl or the older sister saviour? I think we all know the answer to that one

WHY IS SHE WALKING AROUND WITH HER TEETH JUTTING OUT LIKE THAT ALL THE TIME

The musical numbers are literally so painful to watch. The overly bright colours, the flashing... my eyes were hurting and so was my brain

Autism representation aside for a second, the musical numbers/choreography are all fucking atrocious. Ditto for the costumes

LIKE WHAT THE FUCK WERE THE PINK OOMPA LOOMPA FRUIT THINGS?!? THEY LOOK LIKE THE PINK VERSIONS OF VIOLET BEAUREGARDE THE BLUEBERRY

I wanted to cry by this point, this movie is far more awful than I thought

“I’m not saying she doesn’t want to change, I’m saying she can’t” - FUCK YOU. Why is it okay for him to assume what she can or can’t do

Can I just say that autistic people aren’t constantly in a coked up wonderland state?!! We don’t see the world as a wonderland fantasy world 24/7?!!

“She can hear you from two rooms away” / *shows her listening through two brick walls to a conversation* — Also, we don’t have super fucking sonic hearing?? WE CANT HEAR THROUGH FUCKING BRICK WALLS?!?

“She can understand everything you’re saying to her” - she’s autistic not fucking deaf

Less than 45 minutes in, there’s another meltdown in the park

“I’m not climbing on top of a small screaming white girl in public” - yeah please fucking don’t

So Zu fucking pins her down with her weight 🤦‍♀️

“She doesn’t know who she’s hitting” - IM SORRY WHAT

EBO LITERALLY SAID “TREAT HER LIKE A BEAR” when talking her through the prone restraint, I fucking CANNOT

“Tell her she’s safe” - NOT IF YOU FUCKING RESTRAIN HER LIKE THAT SHE IS NOT

The fact that she gets up, smiling and happy after a meltdown and immediately is excited to get a snow cone... I can honestly say that after a meltdown, I am in no way happy or smiling. I am often not very verbal and I’m withdrawn/not myself for at least several hours, usually the rest of the day. Fuck this film

This film is literally just about Zu, and Music is there for a plot device to give her character development. That’s all she’s there for.

Love how Sia shoehorned Zu being suicidal in there. You know, just to try and make her more easy to sympathize with (it doesn’t work)

This film is literally just a 1 hour 47 minute Sia music video with ZERO plot

WHY WERE THEY WEARING PILLOW DIAPERS IN ONE NUMBER-

I really did not feel into the side plot with that guy who was fighting but it was still better than the actual movie so...

I am SO DONE with the NON STOP CONSTANT vocal shit. So tired.

LOJ’s only role in this film is to be the stereotypical wise black guy who assists a white woman’s story. There’s like hardly any other depth there

The Ebo/Zu romance is so fucking stupid and pointless and out of NOWHERE. I couldn’t even tell if they were into each other or not

I was already so bored of the musical numbers by this point. They added NOTHING to the plot but they pretended they did, and I was so over it. And it’s not because I’m not “creative enough” or anything to understand, I love musicals and I think it could have been cool if done right... but it wasn’t. They were a mess. It’s just bad.

Sia really tried to pretend her movie was deep but really it’s a shallow mess

So Zu is meeting rich drug clients and says to Music “try not to have one of your freak outs up there” and “if you could try to get it out now”... FUCKING YIKES. It’s not an on/off button, shut the fuck up

YEP THIS WAS THE SIA CAMEO FUCK THAT BITCH

The fact that she just calls “DRUG DEALER?!? DRUG DEALER IS THAT YOU”, fucking end this please-

I fucking hate this bitch I’m dead serious

“We’re gonna send them to Haiti cause there’s been an earthquake. All these buildings fell down, children’s bones were dislocated” - WHY WAS SHE SO CHEERFUL ABOUT IT

“Gonna buy a shit load of pain meds, gonna but them on my private plane” - FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU

“Pop stars without borders” - Sia thinks she’s so clever but I would give anything to punch her I swear-

ANOTHER MUSICAL NUMBER JUST STOP IM BEGGING YOU

There’s this awkward conversation/bit with Zu and her drug dealer/loanshark about his outfit that was clearly meant to be funny but was just flat and painful

Yep, Sia really showed Music eating chewing gum off the underside of a park bench. Of course.

Look, the kid I work with does similar stuff by putting literally anything and everything in his mouth but like... why would you put that in your movie?

And there’s no indication before this that Music puts everything and anything in her mouth, she just randomly decides to get on her knees, under the bench and eat chewing gum, like she calculates that it’s there and gets it???

She has a THIRD meltdown after an allergic reaction to a bee sting and her sister just yells at her before realizing... I’m not here for this movie, I feel like I drifted off and was not really there

So Zu got angry because she left the drugs at the park but she’s not that upset that her sister had an allergic reaction???

Zu gets absolutely drunk because a) she lost Sia’s drugs and b) she’s stressed out by her autistic sister... wow, great message, Sia!

She really fucked off and left her sister alone to go clubbing/on a bender

The less said about the musical number here the better

Sia’s movie also checks the box of having stereotypical Asian parents, specifically stereotypical Asian dad being harsh/angry and hitting his wife!

ALSO HE PUSHED AND KILLED HIS SON WTF IS HAPPENING

Less than 3 minutes after the last, there’s a musical number that I think was about this side character going to heaven... another shitty Sia-esque number

The patterns during the number made my brain hurt.

Also there are so many autistic actors who can also dance, and yet Sia chose the neurotypical one because ✨ N E P O T I S M ✨

I just want to know how it was deemed necessary to show the fact the autistic character peed/wet herself? I mean... ??? It’s just so undignified and not at all necessary to the plot. Nothing happens after that, it just moves onto the next scene and it didn’t do anything

“I have no one” - 1) YOUR FUCKING SISTER. 2) GEE I FUCKING WONDER WHY, couldn’t be that you’re a shitty human being?!?

There’s a scene where Music is walking and she does ALL the stereotypical behaviours at once... just YIKES

Zu somehow stopped another meltdown just by grabbing Music by the shoulders and sitting her down???

Aaand yep. Another shitty musical number

Zu really goes to put her sister in a fucking facility and claims it’ll be “better for her” - BULLSHIT. Better for Zu, maybe, not Music.

Ah yes - the girl who the characters have said has problems with routines being changed/change in general... you’re now going to fuck up her routine by dumping her in a facility. Perfect Plan.

The nonverbal autistic girl suddenly speaking to say “don’t go” - you can just predict it from the off, can’t you?

Love that as soon as Music starts talking, Zu is like “fuck it, I’ll keep her!”

Zu really went and crashed Ebo’s brothers wedding... in a fucking bralette... YIKES

“I almost gave Music away” - SHE IS NOT A DOG YOU DONT GIVE PEOPLE AWAY

“We should sing a song” - PLEASE DO FUCKING NOT

Also that kiss/romance montage between Zu and Ebo was the CRINGIEST fucking shit ever

This movie seems to be implying that Music has locked in syndrome or something, like she’s locked in her own head or whatever it’s called, and I just... *sigh*

Oh and now Music magically fucking sings in a room FULL of strangers... this is literally embarrassing, please let this end

I mean it, this movie was fucking painful to watch on ever level

She got a service dog puppy which... okay?

Oh look, it’s the only decent song on the soundtrack but with an absolutely shitty over-stimulatory music video with the credits!

I can only name 5 characters in this film. Maybe 7 at a push, but even then I would be guessing

AND YEP SHE THANKED AUTISM SPEAKS OVER THE CREDITS. FUCK YOU SIA 🖕🏻

Let me reiterate: this is a movie about a neurotypical former drug addict whose character development comes from the autistic character, from having an autistic sister she has to take care of. I’m so tired.

We are NOT plot devices or tools for character development. Not once does anyone in this film treat Music like a human being - she’s treated as a burden, a problem, and then like a pet that they decide to keep. Not once is the film focused on how she is feeling - it’s always about Zu or Ebo. The performance itself was so over exaggerated and it made me want to cry when I watched it because this is how the world sees us, and this movie will make it ten times worse. It’s stuff like this that made me think “I don’t want to be labelled as autistic because people will think I’m a certain way”, that made me wait so long before going to the GP to get a referral.

As I said, poor autistic representation aside, the movie is just so appallingly bad. It truly is one of the worst films I’ve watched. If you’re going to watch it, please don’t - or, if you want to because you want to see how bad it is/to raise awareness/critical posts, at least do it illegally. Do not give Sia your money.

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Disclosed

Pairing: Bakugou x reader x Kirishima

Warnings: Like, two sex jokes? Nothing that crazy. Once again, gay, bi and poly as fuck. Oh and language too.

Author’s note:

So uh, I guess this ends the saga of Little Secret. I’m still doing Kiribaku fics, but I guess I just had a bit of a theme going here in this trilogy. I tried to focus more on Eijirou in this one since he kind of got pushed to the side a bit in the other two stories. Little Secret had more of y/n’s omniscience, while Big Secret was more Bakugou driven (big brain hehe).

You can probably ignore the ending of this since it’s really really cheesy and it was the only thing I could think of at the time I wrote it (I think this is another one of my fics that I finished at 3 am or something).

Anyhow, I’d say this is my favorite part of the trilogy in some ways! It’s super soft and fluffy, and I really like how I wrote it out. I seriously hope you enjoy it!

I love you guys!

-Sugar

☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆.☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆

As much as Kirishima loved being a hero, honestly, he loved his days off more.

He watched from in front of the counter as you amicably bickered with Bakugou, bustling around the kitchen still in your respective pajamas.

"I'm just saying we could have something other than cinnamon rolls for breakfast," the blond man pouted, tailing you as you walked from the fridge to the oven.

"It'll be fun," you said. "Geez, we don't have to keep up with that hero diet you set up every day. It's our day off, let me have my sugar and carbs."

Bakugou began to grumble something about the amount of chemicals that were probably in the pre-made pastry dough, but you paid him no heed. The little cheerful beeping tones of the oven sounded through the room as you set the temperature.

"How long is that going to take?" Kirishima asked.

"Like half an hour," you said. "Need a snack 'til then? We need to eat these oranges before they go bad."

"Sure, I'll take one." You tossed the orange fruit to him, which he caught easily and began to peel.

"You want one, 'Tsuki?"

Bakugou grumbled a "Fine" and you handed him his, taking a third for yourself.

Normally, you may have been able to wait until the sweet pastry rolls were done, but instead you'd spent the last two hours very slowly waking up and cuddling in bed.

As per usual, Katsuki had woken up first, letting his eyes adjust to the warm tones the room had taken on with the rising of the sun. He remembered today was his day off, and a final bout of tension left his shoulders. His back had previously been pressed against Eijirou's, but now he decided to turn himself over to face him. Peeking through scarcely opened lids, Bakugou glimpsed your form on the other side of Kirishima, scarcely visible as you snuggled into his chest. Bakugou allowed himself something he only saved in silent, private moments like this: a smile. Just a small one, barely even lifting the side of his mouth. But he couldn't help it. The sight of his perfect boyfriend and girlfriend fast asleep in each others' arms brought him such an overwhelming feeling of compersion, he simply couldn't help himself.

Bakugou draped an arm over Kirishima's side, rubbing at your forearm with gentle strokes of his fingers. You hummed in your sleep, pushing yourself even closer into the red-haired man holding you. The blond breathed in Eijirou's heavy, musky scent, letting it flood his nose and instill a sense of unparalleled calm over himself.

The shifting motions on either side of him caused Eijirou to begin to blink his own eyes open, shedding the foggy haze of sleep from his mind. Dreams from his previous night's rest danced and fleeted at the edges of his memory, before they were ultimately discarded and lost to the unrelenting abyss that is abandoned remembrance. He felt warm. Warm, and comfortable, and happy, and perfect.

Eijirou noticed the steady movement of the arm placed over him, signaling that Bakugou was awake. You, on the other hand, slept on; eyes lightly closed, lips parted with breath, gently clasping the front of his shirt. Kirishima slowly pressed a kiss to your forehead, followed by another and then another.

His soft lips combined with the soothing motions of Katsuki's hand finally brought you smoothly out of your slumber, groaning a bit in your consciousness.

"You two awake yet?" Bakugou's voice sounded from over Kirishima's broad shoulders. It was a little gruffer than usual from sleep and it made you smile.

"Yeah," Kirishima answered for you, meeting your (E/C) orbs with his own.

You pulled your arm from under Bakugou's hand, moving it until your fingers were able to intertwine and lock with his over Eijirou's side. He felt safe under your loving union, tying yourselves together over him so the three of you became one unit.

That was how your morning had started. For a long time, the three of you laid there, chatting in low tones as you and Katsuki snuggled into either side of Eijirou, who later turned to lie on his back to tuck each of you under an arm. The experience was nothing other than peaceful, the three of you content to simply lay in each others' presence.

Ever since that one fateful afternoon nearly two years ago, your lives could scarcely have improved more. Inviting Bakugou into your relationship was the best decision you'd made, and now here you were. The three of you had graduated from UA and begun your lives as heroes; Eijirou still worked as an indispensable sidekick under Fatgum, while Bakugou was still in the process of getting a hero agency of his own off the ground. But today was a day you had settled on to spend completely together, and it was all going just wonderfully.

Somehow, the idea had gotten into your head that you'd make cinnamon rolls for breakfast, so once you and your boyfriends eventually crawled out of bed, you set about fulfilling the urge.

Kirishima popped another orange slice into his mouth, watching you absentmindedly as you pulled out everything you would need. Which, to say, wasn't much, seeing as you were simply baking them from a can. As you pulled out the pan and cooking spray, Eijirou's red eyes flicked over to Bakugou, who had removed the cardboard tube from the fridge again. The redhead fought back a smirk as he watched his shared boyfriend scowl at the ingredients, thinking back to his almost monthly 'your body is a temple and you should treat it as such' lectures he'd give the two of you.

You caught sight of him as well, striding towards him and plucking the container from his hands. Bakugou started grumbling again, turning and exiting the kitchen to presumably go get dressed or something.

Kirishima took the opportunity to come up behind you as you popped the cardboard cylinder open, letting the preformed dough puff up as it met the air. His arm wrapped loosely around your waist as he bent a little to place his head on your shoulder. "Need help with anything?" he asked.

"No, thanks," you said, taking the unbaked rolls and filling your pre-sprayed pan.

He hummed and straightened, moving so he could lean against the counter. He noticed your orange next to him, partially peeled and abandoned. Taking one of the remaining slices from his own, he held it out towards you. "Hey, babe."

You turned and caught sight of it, smiling as you took the little slice between your teeth. You pulled it into your mouth as he pushed from his end, and you began to chew. "Mmm, that one's good."

Eijirou grinned back in agreement and ate the last slice. He reached for your abandoned one, working his nails beneath the pliable peel. "So what made you buy cinnamon rolls? Other than the fact that they're delicious, that is."

"Cold nostalgia," you said, tweaking the dough in the filled pan so it looked right. "I saw them at the store and thought to myself, 'Hey, I remember eating those. I could totally make them myself. Tasty.' Also I thought you might like them. We can all share." You picked up the pan in one hand and carried it to the oven, checking that it was the right temperature and sliding them in.

"I'm not sure about Katsuki," Eijirou said, picking some of the white fibers off another orange slice. "He didn't seem too thrilled."

"Meh," you said, fingers tapping out twenty-seven minutes on the oven timer, bringing more happy beeps to your ears. "If he doesn't eat any of them, there's just more for us, I guess. But you know how he is. You think he'll crack in front of us or wait until we leave?"

Eijirou smiled as you walked back to him, running your hands up his sides affectionately as you grinned up at him. "I'll bet one of us will find him having one in the middle of the night," he wagered.

"You're on," you giggled, swiping another orange slice from him.

"Hey! I would have given you some if you had asked, you know."

"Oops." You slid the slice slowly into your mouth, keeping your eyes on his own. A burst of sweet citric juice filled your mouth as you bit down, and you shut your eyes for a second just to fully enjoy it.

The sensation of a finger poking at your nose caused your lids to flutter open. Your eyes crossed to look at the offending digit, rolling back up and focusing on Eijirou's face.

"Bep," he said, the note accompanying his action.

You booped his nose in unhostile revenge, beginning to giggle as a mini-war began. Eijirou used the pad of his pointer finger to jab lightly at your face, making a new sound effect with each one. You had the advantage since both of your hands were free; tapping both your index fingers on his torso, face, and shoulders.

"Boop."

"Beep."

"Bap."

Bakugou shuffled back into the kitchen and watched your cheerful assaults on one another, both his cheeks and his heart warming at the sound of your giggles. "What the hell are you two doing?"

"Being in love," Eijirou said, proceeding to poke at your cheek. "Get over here, Katsu."

Bakugou just tched and wandered over to the oven to look at the baking rolls. "Dumbasses."

"Better hurry up, 'Tsuki," you said, stepping closer to Eijirou. "Or else you're going to miss out on the kisses."

"Oooooh-," Kirishima drew out for a second before your lips met his. He reciprocated, noting how you both shared the same orange-citrus taste. Out of curiosity, he peeked his eyes open to meet Bakugou's.

The blond man scowled, finally stomping over to you. "Fine. But I'm going in the middle." He wedged himself between you two.

"Yay!" Your arms wound around his slim waist, resting just above his hips. Your lips attached themselves to the base of Bakugou's neck, while Kirishima smooched at his mouth. It was quiet and sweet for a moment, each partaking in another's lips until you were satisfied, swapping positions when necessary.

You separated from Bakugou, running your thumb over his cheekbone for a moment as you looked into his eyes. He'd gotten better about asking for and receiving affection over the years you'd been dating, but it still brought warmth crashing through your system every time.

"Eiji Baby?" you asked, keeping your eyes on Bakugou.

"Yeah?"

"How much time is left on the oven?"

Kirishima glanced up at the glowing digits. "Eighteen minutes."

You hummed. "I'll get started on the icing for my rolls."

"Our rolls," Eijirou corrected, grinning at your over-the-shoulder eye roll you gave him as you made your way to the pantry to grab some powdered sugar.

Bakugou had the same reaction as you, tsking under his breath and moving to lean against the counter next to Kirishima. His position wasn't held long however, since you soon returned with your bag of sugar and the carton of milk, shooing them away so you could use the space. You pulled down a bowl and poured in some sugar and milk, beginning to mix it into a thick liquid with a spoon.

"Need a taste tester?" Kirishima asked hopefully.

"Eiji, this is pure sugar."

He glanced back at the ingredients. "Yeah."

There was something undeniably satisfying about watching the powder mix with the milk, going from fine and crumbly and turning into a sweet liquid mixture to later be drizzled over your pastries.

Maybe it was the motions of your hand as you manipulated the spoon. Maybe it was the ambiance of the room, surrounded by the two men you loved and planned to spend the rest of your life with. Either way, the song that had quietly been thrumming at the back of your mind wandered to the front, and the next thing you knew, you were humming.

Bakugou and Kirishima looked up at the sound of your voice, small smiles spreading their lips. Eijirou recognized the tune you were quietly singing to yourself, quickly adding his voice to your own. Your cheeks heated when you met his eyes, yet you continued to hum along with him. For a moment, you were both content with hitting the notes (or at least, trying to in some people's cases) wordlessly. But then you came upon the chorus, and it was as though you simultaneously reached a shared agreement that it should be belted out properly.

"S'GONNA TAKE A LOT TO DRAG ME AWAY FROM YOUUUU! THERE'S NOTHING THAT A HUNDRED MEN OR MORE COULD EVER DO! I BLESS THE RAINS DOWN IN AFRICAAAA—"

Bakugou watched you with an expression of general disgust and confusion. This was an act, of course, for the most part. He could never quite get used to the spontaneous concerts you both would occasionally throw, singing whatever obnoxious song that came to your minds. You probably only had one brain cell between you two, and it was a tossup of who got it for the day. But there was something about it that made his heart stir and his neck prickle. Maybe it was the absolute glow about Kirishima as he threw back his head to belt out lyrics. Maybe it was the way you had taken the spoon out of the icing bowl, singing at it as if it were a microphone. Bakugou would die before he ever joined in, but he never objected to watching.

The moment the song finished, you started on another. Kirishima turned to you as a new idea struck you. You lifted your hands to a sort of air guitar, playing a bit of the intro to the song in your head before beginning to sing again:

"We're no strangers to love. You know the rules, and so do I~"

Kirishima smiled, liking the way you thought. He admired your sense of humor and how well you went along with goofing off with him. The redhead let you sing the first verse, dancing around the kitchen space from him to Bakugou, looking at each of them as you sang some of the lyrics and wiggling your eyebrows.

It wasn't long before Eijirou jumped in again, joining you as you sang to Katsuki. "Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and, desert you~"

Eijirou took your spoon as you rocked out on your personal invisible guitar, going to town on chords that didn't exist.

Bakugou fought down the butterflies swarming in his stomach at the sight of you two having fun. You would lean against him and grin up into his face from one side, while Kirishima draped an arm over his shoulders and passionately sang into your spoon. Katsuki noticed that some of the icing had dripped down onto his hand, but the redhead seemed to not have noticed.

You paused to giggle at Kirishima, who started taking the song as seriously as he could. His eyes were squeezed shut, fist curled into a ball as he drew out some of the lyrics as though it were so much more than an old-timey memed love song. You let your voice fade as he did his own thing, only offering it as further back up vocals. Eventually, he reached the final reiteration of the chorus, and let himself riff on the final lines as a finisher. When he was done, he opened his eyes, finding that he had even kneeled down on the floor a little in his passion. He stood and grinned, and you enthusiastically applauded his performance.

"That was for you, babes!" he said, pointing at his small audience of two.

Bakugou scoffed, but you could hear how it was a little choked from how cute he had found it. The liar. Both you and Eijirou could see how his cheeks had changed a few shades darker right in front of you.

Kirishima strolled confidently back up to you, swooping each of you into an arm and kissing Katsuki full on the lips without warning. Bakugou's eyes widened at the contact, cheeks burning even more than before. Eijirou pulled back with a satisfying smack of his lips, diving in to give you the same treatment. As per usual, you were more receptive to the kiss, more than happy to throw your arms around his neck and partake in his lips.

"Enjoy the song, there?" you teased once you pulled back, tracing your fingers under his jawline.

"Hell yeah!" Eijirou flashed those perfect sharp little teeth of his in yet another heart-stopping grin. Did he have any idea what that smile did to both Bakugou and you? He had to know it turned your hearts to pure hot chocolate, right?

"Got a song rec, Bakubabe?" you asked, turning to your blond boyfriend. "You mustn't be excluded from our concert on this fine morning."

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Doesn't matter anyway because your shit rolls are almost done."

You glanced at the oven timer, which was, in fact, counting down the seconds until it went off. "Ha ha ha! My children!"

You slid out of Eijirou's hold to grab your oven mitt out of its drawer. The oven went off with a drawn-out beep the moment you stepped up to it, cracking the door open and taking a peek inside. A wonderful smell hit you in the face along with a gust of hot air, and the sight of six perfectly golden cinnamon rolls greeted you.

"Look at them!" you said as you pulled them out with your mitted hand. You turned off the oven and canceled the timer before walking back to the counter to let the pan cool.

"Can I ice them?" Eijirou asked, coming up behind you to get a good look.

"Not yet. They have to cool first."

"Aww, man."

You pulled out a new spoon to use for frosting, since the previous one had been breathed all over. Next you began to clear off the counter, picking up any pieces of orange peel abandoned from breakfast.

Kirishima leaned against the counter again, taking a deep breath of the cinnamon roll smell that had flooded the kitchen. "I love it when you bake, (Y/N)," he said. "It's so much fun. The kitchen smells great, everything always tastes great—"

"Always?" you asked skeptically with a smirk.

"I guess there was that one time," he admitted. "That was—that was probably not a very good idea."

"If it weren't for me," Bakugou cut in, "you would have burned the whole house down."

"An artist must experiment with her craft." You flipped your hair a bit, turning back to your kitchen maintenance. There wasn't much to do. Between both yours and Bakugou's preference for a neat house, your counters usually stayed pretty clear.

Eijirou glanced at the bowl of icing, dipping the tip of his finger into the white mixture. "You know what this looks like?"

"No," you and Bakugou said at the same time firmly, understanding what he meant immediately.

"Shot down," Eijirou said. "You're right, that wasn't that good."

You putzed for another minute, finally hovering your hand over the cooling pan. "That should be good enough."

You had Eijirou harden the tips of his fingers to hold the pan as you began moving the rolls out onto a plate. He started humming again as you drove the spatula under the baked goods.

"Seriously?" Bakugou asked, having inched closer to watch. "Again with the singing?"

"I've got a song in my manly, chivalrous heart," Kirishima said, turning to grin at him. "Can't help it. I'm in the zone."

"I'm liking this zone," you said. "It's fun."

You pushed the icing bowl to Eijirou and took out another spoon for yourself, dipping it in and allowing the sugary liquid to drizzle over the golden brown confections. Kirishima did the same on his own, still humming the tune of Be A Man from Mulan and nodding his head to the individual notes. You danced along with him, moving your hips to his favorite Disney song.

Kirishima's eyes wandered down to your swaying movements. You really did wear those shorts nicely.

You jumped at the sensation of a large hand gently grabbing at your butt. Turning, you saw Eijirou's slight smile on his lips. "Eiji?"

"What?"

"Didn't you get enough last night?"

Kirishima shrugged, finally removing his hand. "Can't a man admire his woman's perfect body?"

You rolled your eyes, tapping the sugar-coated spoon to his nose.

He blinked at the cold sticky sensation, going cross-eyed in an attempt to look at the drop of icing. "Yeah, I probably deserved that."

You smirked and rolled your eyes as you went back to icing your cinnamon rolls, watching Eijirou out of the corner of your eye. He was trying to figure out if his tongue was long enough to lick it off the tip of his nose, but so far, of course, he was having difficulties.

"Idiot," Bakugou said, taking Kirishima's chin and turning his face to his. He captured the sweet white droplet between his lips and swiped his tongue over it.

Kirishima's eyes widened at the gesture. "Katsuki?"

"What?" Bakugou shot him a teasing grin. "You had something on your face."

You chuckled at the two of them, tearing off a roll from the bunch. Eijirou noticed your action and took one for himself, cheeks a little pinker than usual. Bakugou watched as you both bit down.

Eijirou bounced a little on his toes as he chewed the sweet bread. "So good!"

You smiled and nodded in agreement. "Mhm!"

Bakugou looked from you to Kirishima, then to the plate of warm rolls.

"Sure you don't want one, Katsuki?" you asked. "They're pretty good."

The blond sighed, finally grabbing a roll for himself. "It's too late to be cooking breakfast now."

"He cracked!" you said, turning your gaze to Kirishima.

"Did not." Bakugou aggressively took a large bite out of his cinnamon roll.

"You said you weren't going to have any." You cocked your head at him, taking another bite of your own.

"Did I?" Bakugou smirked at you and licked a bit of frosting off his lip.

You thought back for a moment. Maybe he hadn't. He'd certainly acted like it though. 

"Well, do you like it?" you prodded.

"Sure." Bakugou shrugged and examined the cross-section of his roll. "Probably would have been better if you'd actually made it yourself."

You folded your arms. "Too much work. I wanted a cinnamon roll and they had them in the store. Simple as throwing them in the oven."

"But the preservatives," he argued.

"But my lacking baking skills. Besides, now I'll live forever."

"Hah? That's not how that works, dumbass."

"Well, I think they're perfect." Eijirou cut in. He put an arm around you and Katsuki and pulled you into either side of him. "You've got the spice—" he kissed Katsuki on his cheek, "—and you've got the sugar." He kissed your cheek.

"What the fuck, Shitty Hair."

"I'm not always sugar," you half-heartedly protested, snorting a little at his cheesiness and ignoring Bakugou.

Eijirou paused for a second, considering. "Yeah, okay. But . . . my metaphor."

"Your metaphor is stupid."

You swatted at Katsuki. "Oh, shut up. What are you in this situation, Eiji?"

He thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"Hmm . . . maybe you tie us together," you said, beginning to run your fingertips over his forearm. "Roll us up tight in your arms."

Both Kirishima and Bakugou blinked at you for a moment, cheeks dusted a shade darker than normal.

"So we're a cinnamon roll?" Kirishima asked.

"Ye—"

"I AM NOT A CINNAMON ROLL!" Katsuki shuffled against Eijirou's arm without really trying to get away.

"I think you are," you said. "What do you say, Eiji? He's an adorable smol bean—"

"No."

"—too precious for this world—"

"NO."

"—protecc at all costs—"

Bakugou threw the remaining third of his cinnamon roll at you, and it bounced off your head onto the floor.

"HEY—!"

He slipped out of Kirishima's arm for real this time, making an advance towards you. You ducked out of the redhead's hold too, running off to the living room.

"I PUT MY HEART AND SOUL INTO THOSE ROLLS, KATSUKI!" you called behind you.

"Sure."

"JUST ADMIT YOU'RE MY PRECIOUS BABY CINNAMON ROLL."

"Never!"

Eijirou listened to the sounds of his partners chasing each other through the house. Finishing off his morning treat, he smiled, thinking about how lucky he was to have the two of you. You no longer hid anything from each other, and everything was laid out in the open. Your futures were bright, and Kirishima knew in his heart that you'd forever be happy as long as you were together. From now on, your feelings would remain disclosed.

☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆.☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆

[Big Secret]

[Little Secret]

Taglist: @loxbbg @runrabbitrun3 @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

[hot-wiings]

The One Where Dabi Gets Involved With Overhaul’s Girl, Part Eighteen.

Edited: 3-26-2021

A month had passed since Kai announced your engagement, and a month had passed since your pregnancy became public knowledge. You ran your fingers over your stomach, you weren't really showing yet. You knew as the weeks progressed you would blow up like a bowling ball and your stomach would pop open like a flower. As of right now, you had the smallest, most insignificant bump, only you knew it was there and it was only visible with your shirt up.

You looked up from your spot on the couch to Dabi. You hadn't had a moment to talk to him with Hari around. Per what he said to Kai, he had been watching you like a hawk. You hadn't been able to speak to each other freely, let alone even look in each other's direction. Your lingering touches were no longer, your sweet whispered words were gone.

You knew you had to stop such actions due to Hari's presence and watchful eyes, yet part of you couldn't help but feel that the affections you used to brazenly show each other in private had been turned unwanted. Not being alone meant you hadn't gotten the chance to talk to Dabi about this baby, your baby.

You still had no idea if he wanted you both, this was a two-for-one deal now, and it was a tie-breaker you were not willing to get rid of. The true father of your baby was still an unanswered question. An unanswered question you weren't sure mattered to Dabi. Asking Dabi to risk his life for the sake of a baby that might not be his was a huge favor. That was if he even wanted a baby, another unanswered question that sent nerves sparking throughout your body.

Noticing Hari see your eyes on Dabi you quickly come up with something to say to him. You quickly come up with a reason to talk to him. You don't want to make yourself, nor Dabi look suspicious. Anything noteworthy that Hari sees he will take directly to Kai. You didn't want to raise suspicions simply for looking at him.

"I can't believe I'll be naming a baby in seven months. Any suggestions?"

"Let me guess, Kai is leaning towards junior for a boy."

Dabi's face tightens as he says the words, and you suppose to was an unfair question to ask but it was all you could think up on the fly at that moment. Presuming Dabi wanted this baby, it was unfair to ask him such things knowing that if this baby was born before you escaped, then it would be Kai helping you name them.

Presuming that Dabi wanted this baby, it was already unfair that he couldn't be with you, it was unfair he couldn't help you. It wasn't him pulling back your hair when you threw up, it was Kai. It wasn't him rubbing your shoulders, it was Kai. It wasn't him coddling and taking care of you, it was Kai.

Of course, that was presuming and wishful thinking. For all that you really knew he was upset and his tightened smile was out of anger towards Kai and this baby. Anger that this baby was ruining things, ruining his plan to get you and Eri out, and ruining your disclosed and deeply harbored feelings for each other. Anger towards Kai for having possibly gotten you pregnant, anger this baby might actually belong to a monster and not him.

This uncertainty on his feelings was tearing you apart. You didn't know what he wanted, and you didn't know what he was thinking. He could resent this baby, he could hate them, or he could love them. He could be thinking about how he wanted to whisk you away from Kai, he could be thinking about how he wants a family with you, or he could be thinking about not helping you and Eri at all. Knowing him, knowing his own upbringing, and how his own father acted towards him did not help shake the feeling that maybe he didn't want you and this baby anymore.  

"I think Kai Junior would be a lovely name."

Hari, ever-delightful to praise Kai, even in his absence speaks up commending the name. There was no way you'd ever name your child after Kai. Even if this baby ends up being Kai's, even if they had his genes, you would not raise them to be like him. You would not raise them to be such a monster.

"Well, we will have to take it into consideration, but I think I want something more original."

You feel a firm hand slide over your shoulders from behind you, squeezing them in a comforting way. The assailant presses his thumb into your skin in such an intricate way you know exactly who it is. The exact monster whose name you're conversing about.

"Kai Junior has a nice ring to it. We'll discuss it, but whatever we agree on is sure to be perfect."

Kai's voice meets your ears as he leans in close and presses a kiss on your cheek. You want to pull away, you want to reject it. Not with Dabi in front of you, not with you being unsure of his feelings for you and this baby. Showing affection towards Kai feels like a betrayal. Quite ironic seemingly since your shared feelings with Dabi were in fact a betrayal to Kai. You know it would be stupid to pull away from Kai, things have been going good lately. Due to this pregnancy he had given you some of your freedom back, even if it was just a shard of freedom, even the smallest shred felt like a lifetime.

You had Kai utterly convinced you were in love. Whether he thought you were suffering from Stockholm syndrome or were genuinely in love with him didn't matter. He believed you loved him, and that was enough.

"All done with work for the day?"

"No, I needed Hari for some important matters. It'll just be you and Dabi for the rest of the day."

Kai had been keeping his plans more secretive. He was keeping things in front of Dabi and the other league members on a need-to-know basis. You could tell it was making them antsy, and Kai seemed stressed. Although, he hadn't been taking that stress out on you as he used to. Something big was going down soon, you just knew it.

"Okay, be safe."

You give Kai a quick kiss on the lips before he moved away from you and out of the room with Hari hot on his heels. You felt disgusted for having to put on such a display of affection for him, but as you watched him and Hari disappear further and further away, the feelings in your stomach transitioned from disgust to relief, and that relief slowly turned to nervousness. You felt achy and sick, it wasn't the morning sickness that conveniently happened in the afternoon and evening.

This was the first time you would be alone with Dabi since you announced your pregnancy. You would finally be able to discuss it, you would finally be able to talk about what this would mean for your both. You would finally find out whether he wanted this baby, whether he wanted to be a father. You would finally get to put your nerves to rest, but the idea of talking about this made you uneasy.

What if he didn't want this baby? What if he no longer wanted you. You didn't know what you would do without him. While you hated being so codependent on someone, he was all you had. He was your only shot of escaping Kai alive, he was your only shot at getting Eri out safe and now he was the possible father of your baby. He was the man you loved, and If he rejected you, you, and your baby, you would be forced to live an unhappy life going around as Kai's wife for the sake of your baby.

You and Dabi stare at each other in silence for a moment, as if daring one of you to make the first move to break it. Dabi stood up from where he was sitting and made long stridefull steps to the couch you were sitting on. He takes a seat next to you and loosely grabs your hand. The action somewhat puts your gut at ease. He wasn't being cold and distant, that was a good sign, wasn't it?

"You're pregnant, huh?"

"Yeah, Kai did an ultrasound and everything."

"Do you know whose it is?"

You pulled your lip in between your teeth and bit down. Here was the hard part. You didn't know who the actual father was, and you didn't know what that meant to Dabi. It could be hard to father another man's baby. Every day Dabi would have to look in his child's face and possibly see Kai.

"No, the times we... You overlapped each other. I- Are you upset? Does it bother you Kai might be the father?"

"No, no. It's mine."

"How can you be so sure?"

Dabi's grip on your hand tightened as he brought it up to his mouth and left a little kiss on top of your knuckles.

"Doesn't matter who the father is, does it? I'm gonna help you raise it- them. My money is going towards their education and living expenses, my time is going towards raising them into being a good person in such a shitty, unfair world. I'm going to be the father, doesn't matter what a piece of paper or blood work says. They'll be mine, ours."

"So you want them? You want us?"

"You know I had a crap dad, I'll admit when I first found out it scared me. I don't want to be like him, the thought of raising a child and being like him scares me. I'm not going to be like him, I'll be so much better."

"You will! You'll be a great dad."

You reached into the pocket of your pants and pulled out the ultrasound photo. It had gotten a bit beat up because you had it floating around in your pocket ever since you had it taken, you wanted to give it to Dabi as soon as you got the chance. You took the folded photo and placed it in Dabi's hand.

"I want you to have this, just don't let anyone see or know you have it."

You watched in anticipation as Dabi unfolded the photo and looked at it. His own small smile displayed on his face as he refolded it and placed it in the inner pocket of his jacket, secure and safe from prying eyes.

"They're so small."

"I had it taken a month ago, I won't get another until the middle of my second trimester."

"Hijire."

"Hijire?"

Dabi flashed you a smile as he pulled your hand up and kissed your knuckles again. He let out a low chuckle as if he had a very funny joke running through his head.

"I like the name Hijire. Earlier you asked for a suggestion, and I like Hijire."

"Baby Hijire, I like it."

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

Hi guys! As promised to that Anon, I wrote the timelines. I decided to write only the key points though because these are things we already know, and then, I’m sure there are more than a thousand proofs around and people who have already spoken about it. Enjoy.

Drum roll, please 🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Let’s start with the first competitor: Tyrone William Griffin, aka Typical Dish Snacked Ty Dolla $ign 04/13/1982, the man who liked to tweet things like “I’m the curator of lesbians”.

PRen Tyren: As I already mentioned in the post “There is a light at the end of the tunnel”, it all started on the evening of November 15, 2016, when 5H went to the Epic party. Due to Laucy’s picture of the wedding and the ‘official’ coming out then occurred a few days later, on November 18, 2016, Lauren needed a boyfriend. That same night at the party, Typecast accepted the management’s proposal.

Typo tweeted “LMJ” on January 4, 2017, and then immediately deleted it. First move to create speculation since, presumably, Lauren ‘was’ still with Ludicrous. Shortly thereafter, a blind item about L who was having an affair with a married man came out. On January 10, 2017, Nicole Cartolano posted that picture of Laucy in the snow with a piñata. After wishing her a happy birthday, as we already know, luBYE. On February 13, 2017, there were the first PRren pictures at the Grammy after-party, so that people would start believing the blind item, BUT, making it clear that he wasn’t a married man, but a taken one, and yes, MAN, since Tyred is 14 years older than her, and therefore inculcating the idea that L was really cheating on Luggage. On March 9, 2017, Tymbal posted a picture of them together, coincidentally, the day after he advertised his upcoming album ‘Beach House 3’.

On March 22, 2017, we had ‘Bare With Me’ and Nicole Cartolano’s interview with MTV News. On the 23rd, we had, still very coincidentally and totally unplanned, “no I hate it because it’s invasive, scary, delusional, disrespectful to us both and was never real…Ever”, because, because, SHE DECIDES. NOT US. PERIOD. (sorry, I had to 😂. This is another of L’s tweets dating back to July 2, 2017: “I decide. Not you. Period.”) Joking apart, because she was single and she certainly couldn’t let the fans have hope for her and C, so she tried to kill the Camren ship for the umpteenth time. “Hey, hey, Lo, how’d it go? That bad, eh?” “Let me try again in 2020.” “Laur, babe, I’ll tell you what. I’m from the future, okay? It didn’t work, honey. And I don’t think it’s gonna work either in, I don’t know, in 2030.”

Back to the program.

The day before Nicole’s MTV article and eight days later, Twix posted a series of tweets (21: “Lo” - 30: “You look better on me 👀”, Cuban flag, and “I think she like me 😍”) [👈🏼 ‘Great grammar’ said in Lauren’s voice] which he then of course deleted to make everything more and more mysterious, and thus making people connect and figure out who was that ‘LMJ’ tweeted in January. On April 14, 2017, we had a picture of L with TyPod and his family dating back the night before when they celebrated Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’s birthday, followed by the blurred picture of the 15th of them together at Coachella. On April 18, 2017, Alycia Bella, Tinky Winky’s ex, tweeted “when you get cheated on w a 5th harmony member & all you can do is laugh.”, and then immediately deleted it, thus giving even more confirmation to people that both had cheated, despite Teletubbies denied and defended himself: “been moved on :) no cheating. Keep it Taylor’d. gang gang 🤘🏽🤘🏽”. The same Alycia who complained of being cheated on by Telly for ‘another girl’ during the reality show ‘The Platinum Life’ which aired on October 15, 2017 and that was recorded MONTHS BEFORE.

There were other tweets that Tyronic continued to tweet and then delete (April 1: “I think about you all the time” - April 3: “You my favorite” and “I don’t know what I did to deserve you” - April 7: “Really like what you’ve done to me”), Insta-stories and posts by both, and other public appearances together to increase the public’s curiosity. Such as: 1) Mani’s birthday. 2) August 16, 2017, when 5H did that famous and messy phone interview with The Sun for Dan Wooton’s podcast, one of Salmoned Cow’s well-known puppies friends, during which Dan asked Lauren about his relationship with Twinkly and she replied that they were just vibing. 3) Lauren’s birthday. 4) On September 11, 2017, Lauren posted pictures about the FentyxPuma party, and in one of those posts with pictures of her and Troglodyte, she put the caption with three hearts emojis, thus confirming to people that she and Tipsy were together.

February 2017 was the chosen month for Pukeren to ‘become’ official, confirmed by Typed in an interview at the Power 105.1 FM morning show The Breakfast Club on October 31, 2017, though, so a long time later and when the waters had already calmed down. By saying February, Tyring confirmed the cheatings exactly as it was planned. In another interview with BigBoyTV made on November 2, 2017, Typology showed the interviewees how even the background of his phone was a picture of Lauren. Picture that, by the way, Lauren herself posted 21 days before that by wearing Tijuana’s merchandise sweatshirt, so not even a personal picture that you’d normally expect to see from a real boyfriend.

Blah blah blah, Lauren never needed to defend a person so much in her life, blah blah blah, weed and booze and parties, blah blah blah, dogs (and fake allergies when convenient), blah blah blah, #Laurenthegroupie, blah blah blah, Tara and social media don’t get along very well, blah blah blah, #freepoorTweed ⛓️👮🏼 who was just having some fun with his friends, blah blah blah. We know the rest of the farce, and moving on to two years later, and therefore at the end of the PR, on April 15, 2019, Tic Tac tweeted a broken heart before zeroing his social media and Lauren a post on her social media, both implying the end of their oh so real ‘relationship’.

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Let’s move on to competitor number two: Maturely Hushed Matthew Hussey, 06/19/1987. The scammer par excellence (since 2012). The salesman who pretends to be a life coach/dating advice expert by deluding poor women who fall into his bullshit. The charlatan who has an infinity of fraud charges and even a restraining order for stalking and harassment by a woman named Samantha C. of San Diego. [this woman continually talked about the situation on her Instagram account, cheating_matthewhussey. Even Chelsea Briggs liked a picture.]

Ewmila Mattmila: The skit was supposed to start a lot sooner in reality. They ‘met’ for the first time on September 29, 2017, on the set of NBC’s Today show (performance that C dedicated to the Dreamers), but nobody has heard much about it, right? There was only a single Billboard article that did that. Following that meeting, it was supposed to start in October 2017, when they also started to follow each other on IG, but everything was postponed because C’s album was postponed. The album was released on the 12th, and by pure coincidence, on January 11th, 2018, during the interview with Elvis Duran, and COMPLETELY OUT OF THE BLUE, C mentioned Matilda for the first time by saying she was a fan of his. The same Mattress (10 years older than her) who coincidentally was there that day, so a setup for the public to make believe that they’d met that day.

The next day, at the release of the album ‘Camila’, C performed at Good Morning America, and Macaque, again by pure coincidence, had a small slot in the same program. On January 15, 2018, during the interview with Zane Lowe, when he asked if she had someone special in her life at that time, she replied with “maybe”, which was a big yes when she read “I can’t say your name without smiling” just before from her phone notes. On January 22, 2018, on Zach Sang Show, C said that she’s a private person and that she doesn’t like the ‘public thing’ since the Austin fiasco. Another bullshit said to make the public believe that it was the truth and take advantage of the events that would happen shortly thereafter, since, literally 18 days later, on February 9, E! News exclusively posted the first Burpmila pictures on vacation on a beach in Cabo, Mexico.

Blah blah blah, we know, blah blah blah, they lived in airports to get papped, blah blah blah, they even paid fans to do it, blah blah blah, “He’s great”, blah blah blah, “She’s great”, blah blah blah, #They'reGREAT!, blah blah blah, let’s kiss in a children’s playground #Sinu #needyCamila #someonepleaseteachStMatteohowtoholdagirl #SofiwasdecidingwhethertoreturntotheSagradaFamiliaorgoontheswingratherthanwitnessthatugliness, blah blah blah, let’s get to the first oh so real oh so important obstacle in their story.

On August 12, 2019, a Dutch singer named Elieve did an interview in which she confessed that she and Camila were dating the same guy (Matchbox) at the same time. Elieve was in London from the beginning of January to the beginning of February 2018 and Matzo was in London from January 14 to 19, so they met on one of those days.

Blah blah blah, let’s pretend we’ve overcome this obstacle, blah blah blah, let’s pretend we’re a super happy couple, blah blah blah, Disneyworld, blah blah blah, let’s go skiing, blah blah blah, trip to Italy, blah blah blah, Shawn’s entry, blah bl- wait… Oh yeah, it’s the second PR’s turn. Goodbye Ew! ‘Thank you very much for nothing. Bye-bye!!’ said in Lauren’s voice. End of ‘story’ on May 11, 2019, that is, the last time they were photographed together, news confirmed on June 25, 2019, only 4 days after the release of Señorita.

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Even if it wasn’t part of the request, this is a bonus of mine just because.

Señorita + Shitmila Showmila Shawmila: On January 27, 2018, Camila, Shaky, and Andrew, Shavable’s manager, were papped in a restaurant eating pizza before the Pre-Grammy Gala in New York City. That meeting took place to propose the idea of ​​the PR to C to help increase both Shallow’s music sales and his image. Camila was uncertain. 2017 had been a great year for her as a first time as a solo artist, and she knew that she would’ve to play her cards even better during 2018; plus, the PR with Matryoshka hadn’t even officially started and had already been postponed for a few months because the release of her album ‘Camila’ had been postponed.

Andrew explained to her that the PR with Chauffeur wasn’t going to be done right away at all, also because as C would have her PR relationship with EatchEW, Shanty would have that kind of PR relationship/not relationship with Hailey Baldwin (now Bieber) that only served to make people speculate and maintain the idea that Shazam wasn’t gay. Andrew also explained to her that their future PR relationship would benefit both of their careers because there would be a collaboration, a number 1 hit, which they would look for and use as a launchpad for the narrative. #friendswhothenfallinlove #RomeoandJulietbullshit

This perfect duet, went first to knock on Camila’s door, and then to Shuttle’s one in April 2018 in the form of Andrew Watt who already knew everything about the charade. Watt (he also worked on Havana and 7 songs for Romance including Señorita) co-wrote the song in April 2018, shortly before contacting Shitto, along with Jack Patterson, Ali Tamposi (she also worked on Havana, Consequences, and 6 songs for Romance including Señorita), and Charli XCX. [The same Charli who did an interview on October 21, 2019, in which she gave the true version of the story without even remotely mentioning Scab: “This Latin Pop flare just wasn’t right for who I am because I am not a part of that culture, I’m not from there. Whereas Camila has that in her blood, so when we wrote the song we thought about her and sent it to her.”]

Now that they had found the perfect song, and with the addition of Benny Blanco and Cashmere Cat in the production, all they had to do was convince Camila and her team. Charli XCX and C were the opening acts for Taylor Swift’s Reputation Tour from May 8 to October 6, 2018, during which Charli tried to persuade her to do the song by explaining how perfect it was for her. And who knows, maybe even since then they started working on it together since Camila, as she used to do, rewrote almost completely the lyrics to make it more her own. Ask that also to ‘Care About Me’ who turned into ‘The Boy’.

On August 4, still during the Reputation Tour, Shampoo went to the concert date in Toronto, and Taylor posted an Insta-story in which she put make-up and glitter on Shank’s eyelids. Sweaty regretted giving Taylor permission to post the video because people have always thought he was gay for years, and on November 26, 2018, the RollingStone interview was released in which he admitted that he felt the need to be photographed and seen with a girl to prove he isn’t gay. This was a great leverage they used with Camila since she could understand and help a friend in need. The work of persuasion lasted for about 9/10 months, from January 27, 2018, to the end of November/beginning of December 2018. Indeed, on December 5, 2018, both posted a picture taken on the 4th in the backstage of KISS 108’s Jingle Ball 2018 in Boston. Thanks to those pictures and C’s comment, word of their possible future collaboration began to spread. The plan was by then in place.

P.S. remember what happens to Romeo and Juliet, don’t you? Yeah. They die. And like Romeo and Juliet, they’re gonna (metaphorically speaking, of course) die too. Be patient, my babies, be patient.

🎉the🎊end🍾

I want comments now, guys. Which of these competitors you can’t stand the most and why, I’m curious. Put this 🐙 for Tissue, this 🐽 for Matte, and this 🐔 for Shrunken accompanied by the motivation. Let’s have some fun. 🥂

🖕🏼 this is mine for all of them, by the way.

As always, thanks, Mari. 🥰 Bye guys, I love you. Always with love, F. ❤️

[doshmanziari]

Architectural Criticism in 2021/2022 || Part 1.5

Before writing a fuller continuation of my previous essay on architectural criticism, I’m inserting a mini-essay that focuses on a particular piece of criticism. Let me be clear: I don’t see Kate Wagner, the person behind @mcmansionhell, as an enemy; I’m just using one of her articles as an example because I had, in my essay, already linked two articles of hers (more accurately, one article and an image from another), and I’d rather elaborate on what I mean when I write “...a vapid buildup to a politically convenient takeaway” than bring in an entirely different item. Wagner, in my view, represents a sort of destabilizing criticism that takes pleasure in tackling “dry” subject matter with breathless, Meme-heavy sarcasm. I find the tone off-putting, but I appreciate it as one attempt to invigorate and broaden the audiences of architectural appraisal. My issue is that by now the joke has overestimated its capacity for judgmental clarity. Really anything can be made fun of if you’re determined enough, and the more of an unquestioning audience you have the easier it is to believe everything you say is true or coherent.

The image was from this 2018 Vox article: “Betsy DeVos’ summer home deserves a special place in McMansion Hell” (a title likely devised by the editor; given the other residences Wagner has lambasted, I would be surprised if she truly believes this is among the worst). My observations won’t make sense unless anyone who is reading this reads her article as well, so please do that if you’d like to follow along. It should take only a couple of minutes.

What I’d first draw readers’ attention to is that Wagner spends the first four paragraphs on the United States’ beyond-vast inequality of wealth. Two of these paragraphs are the article’s largest, and the article is twelve-paragraphs-long, meaning that 1/3 of it is devoted to establishing a socio-economic context -- at least, that is the pretense. Once Wagner writes “...getting paid to make fun of DeVos’s tacky seaside decor is one of few ways to both feed myself and make myself feel better”, it is clear that her personal intent is a kind of vengeful mocking, and that her intent for readers is to prime them to associatively, knee-jerkingly despise anything which could come next with flat-affect “lmao”s. It’s hardly irrelevant to mention economic realities when examining luxury items (and what else is a mansion?), but Wagner’s subsequent analysis is not really architectural or even artistic: it is rather about looking at several photographs of a building, knowing who lives there and hating that person (and also imagining that they were responsible for all design decisions), and then mocking this-and-that in whatever ways one can devise. These grievances are understandable, but understandable grievances do not automatically lead to perceptive criticism.

Please look (perhaps again) at the first image. Note that only four, maybe, of the fourteen details Wagner chooses to focus on -- “no wry comment needed”, “these look like playdoh stamps”, “when you love consistency”, and “oh my god is this a shutter” -- approach anything vaguely resembling coherent criticism; and the other four images fare even worse (with the exception of the highlighting of an apparently absurd interior balcony). The rest are inane attempts at saying anything at all. Writing “hell portal” by an upper porch area may be funny for a moment, but what does it actually express? Well, nothing, except the author’s own irritation which will find whatever it can to announce its contemptuous sarcasm. Wagner’s captions will land only to the degree that the reader is humorously sympathetic.

The aforementioned remarks, excepting the one about the embedded chubby Tuscan columns’ Play-Doh-likeness, suggest that the worst thing a building can do is be formally heterogeneous. The implicative corollary here is that good architecture is eminently justifiable in all of its parts -- consistent, unified, rational. This is as fine a personal belief as anything else, but when it is wielded as dogma against architecture which has no interest in being a Petit Trianon it can only reveal its intellectual self-limitations. Wagner writes that “there is a difference between architectural complexity and a mess”, yet what that difference may be is hand-waved away. We just have to believe that thirteen different windows styles is too much. What’s the threshold? Does it depend on the size of the building? The types of styles used? Who knows.

Now of course bad architecture exists, and sometimes the failure indeed points to deficient editorial acumen; for architecture, like any other art, is as much about what’s included as what’s excluded. But in saying so little about the shingle style itself, Wagner seems to have given no thought to readers concluding that all shingle style houses are freakish -- more specifically, concluding that this freakishness is a damning transgression, and that no self-respecting, punching-up class-warrior would ever be caught dead sincerely enjoying their geometric, “exquisite corpse” escapades. In fact, the freakish tendencies of shingle style houses are just what make them such great fun to see, visit, or reside in. Wagner’s article, as far as I can tell, omits this possibility. When she writes, “Betsy likely went with this style because it is very popular in New England and in coastal enclaves of the rich and famous in general”, one is being pushed to presume that the only probable reason the shingle style exists or could be preferred over another style is to signal élite solidarity.

The photograph right above is of Kragsyde, a Massachusetts shingle style mansion, designed by the US-Northeast-oriented firm of Peabody & Stearns, completed in the 1880s. It was demolished almost a century ago, but the few exterior images of it which remain are, I think, fascinating -- maybe most of all for its enormous archway, possibly a porte-cochère, which has a thin, overextending keystone bizarrely driven into the top like a nail puncturing a petrified rainbow. I bring the building up because Wagner gives us no reason to consider why Kragsyde may have been a genuine architectonic accomplishment and not merely an oversized farce of contiguous pretensions. To the layperson hot off of the Vox piece, there may be no artistic difference between it and DeVos’ place, except that perhaps Kragsyde has a more consistent fenestrative application (would that make it better? if so, why?).

I appreciate that only so much can be said when you’re limited to less than a thousand words, especially when the issue is “complicated” (as the byline for Vox’s First-person series advertises). But the problem I keep coming back to is how DeVos’ mansion is treated as a stand-in for DeVos herself. This makes any architectural critique, no matter how pressed it is for size, flimsily presentist: its durability starts and ends with how alive the architecture’s resident(s) and political presence are. On some emotional level, this is pretty sensible: if we despise monarchical institution, we can find a sort of loophole to enjoying Versailles palace on the basis of it no longer being the residence of royalty. Our awe over its decadence and scope is intersectionally “admissible” on the basis of its having become a UNESCO World Heritage site. Similarly, one can imagine DeVos’ mansion being appreciated in a hundred years (should it still exist then) because the passage of time will have rendered DeVos’ person a historical fact, and perhaps more separable, and then tolerable, in that regard -- even if the building remains private.

But if architecture is, as a craft, critically whittled down to nothing more or less than inorganic expressions of social disparities, with every aesthetic decision a reflection of politically explicable taste, then we must assume that a great deal of the world’s most remarkable architecture is equally ridiculous and despicable, since so much of it was born out of great privilege and required specialized resources. I doubt Wagner actually believes this, because it would betray the entire premise of her McMansion Hell project, which is to demonstrate how so many modern day mansions are deeply unpleasant mounds of visual illiteracy, and cannot hold even a stump of a candle to the luminously learned and eclectic talents of prior great architects such as Mackintosh, Norman Shaw, Lutyens, or Ledoux. So what’s the takeaway here? As far as I can tell, it’s simply that if you hate Betsy DeVos, and if you care about class, you should hate her house too. And I do not think that that is architectural criticism.

[guigz1-coldwar]

'An unexpected event ' : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"An unexpected event "

Chapter Summary : Yirina is, with Park, Zasha and the team, prepared for their next mission : get their hands on Sonya Kuzmin.....

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3300

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Well, I can say that the day started greatly for me : waking up in the car with Park after spending all night for fun and then taking a coffee with Zasha as our first day back together since 3 years and today was going to mark the real first day of them in the team and their first official mission since an long time. Of course, with our new mission that came by for us and the presence of Sonya Kuzmin in West-Berlin, we have no choices but to probably delay our trip to go to Moscow to get to Portnova.

It was an risk to take but since we don't know how much Sonya will stay in the city, it's better that we act today and if possible, be on our very way to Moscow the next day with maybe Sonya in the MI6 custody....let's hope for that to happen actually. Once everyone has taken their breakfast including me & Park because coffee weren't the only thing we were going to take, we started to work on the possibilities and opportunities that we can have to kidnap Sonya in the area they used to make their calls.

As Zasha was the one to give us these intels, they're the one who were explaining to us what Sonya could possibly do after their calls : going to an coffee bar called 'am Neuen See' and then, returning back to an secret Perseus hideout that was unfortunately unknown to Zasha and according to them, not right into the city itself and maybe in East-Berlin or East-Germany. We decided to strike at the moment they will leave the coffee bar, it was our only option to put our hands on Sonya themselves but we put ourselves an exception : we don't hurt Sonya, just knock her out by behind in case they're not cooperative....and we all think it would be what will be happening.

Once it was done, we waited until the presumed time, in the afternoon, Sonya could appear at the suspected phonebooth they always make their calls in the Tiergarten neighborhood and then, it was time to launch our operation. We separated ourselves in two teams : me, Park & Zasha will stay in the car on an parking to watch Sonya, the phonebooth and any surprises that we can have as Garrett & Greta will stay in another car that the BND gave to Greta for the mission as they will be the one that will got close to Sonya and capture them away.

"You're sure it's here, Zed ?" I asked to them as I was the one who drive the car with Park next to me in the front passenger seat and them, in the backseats, the three of us watching from afar the phonebooth, we really had an big view on the street to be sure as Garrett & Greta were positioned in another parking just next to the coffee bar.

"Yes, Sonya is always making their calls in the same spot." They replied, sure of themselves as I looked at them with binoculars on the eyes. "I don't know why but I presume that they're liking the place or this particular phonebooth." They added, almost laughing at the end.

"Zasha..." Park started, turning around to look at them. "I was wondering of something."

"Yes ?" They removed their binoculars to put their eyes on her.

"How did you manage to intercept Perseus communications during almost an year ?" She asked and to be honest, it was an question that was also in my head.

"In fact, since I remembered well where the Perseus hideouts were in the UK, I decided one day to make an little raid in one of them, stealing some of their equipments and any means that could serve me to intercept any communications from them." They responded as they moved to get in the middle seat between my & Park seats. "It was an hideout located near Dover if I remember well...."

"Oh, I see the one you were talking about." Park expressed, having like an flash in her head to have found what Zasha was talking about. "It's all thanks to you that the MI5 was able to eliminate an large part of the Perseus threat in the UK mainland."

"It was my mission to do so." They exclaimed as I looked at them with an little grin.

"It was something that we both promised to each other : to bring Perseus down." I added to their statement and they nodded, recalling of what we said before we left each other 3 years ago. "And now, we can do it since we're back on work....together."

"Yeah." They breathed as they decided to give me an little tap on the shoulders, smiling about it before Park took the radio that was our means to communicate with Garrett & Greta.

"Garrett, is the listening system in place ?" She asked. To know more about what Sonya could talk about if they don't say an thing in the future, Garrett had an idea to put an little gadget, courtesy of the MI6 and one of his contacts, that could allow us to listen to what Sonya will say.

"Placed it 5 minutes ago, Park." He said, sounding sure.

"Do you mind to make an simple test if everything work ?" She asked him as we couldn't know if it was working perfectly.

"You want me to go make an call ? Okay then." He took a deep breath before we could hear a door getting opening that he was going to do it....it was necessary and we were curious if he was going to make an real call or just to see if the listening gadget was good to go.

"Let's see who you are going to call, Garrett."  I whispered to myself while crossing my arms, making Park laugh about it before we could hear a phone ringing, meaning that the gadget was working....to listen, it was the radio of the car we were using....another something from the MI6 that I wasn't aware of....

"Kwan Song." We could hear a feminine voice....Garrett's girlfriend....he was calling this fiance....well, it's a good test to say.

"Hi Song, it's me." He said in a low voice, sounding an little bit enthuastic.

"Oh, Donnie, it's good to hear you !" Song expressed, making me resisting the urge to burst into laughter....calling Garrett Donnie was like becoming an private joke between me & him. "I heard from Woods that you will soon come to Moscow."

"Yes, we got one of our leads there and an friend of our team too." He explained, knowing that he was talking about Portnova. I looked at Zasha for an second who breath about hearing this. "But right now, we got to deal with someone in West-Berlin before we took an plane to Moscow."

"Nice !" Song whispered, in an lovely voice to him. "You know that in the safehouse we are, they gave me an king-sized bed ?" By that, me, Park & Zasha looked at each other with wide eyes....it was becoming an bit sexual in that phone call. "Oh, Donnie, I really need you."

"Me too, Song." He gasped, knowning that he was listened too by us. "Listen, I'm sorry but I have to go : I need to prepare myself for an mission."

"Ok then, I'm glad you have called me....bye, Donnie and see you soon." She told him.

"Bye Song, love you." He then hangs up the phone, stopping any communications between us and the phonebooth, meaning that the gadget work only when the phone is activated. We could see him, going away from the phonebooth before getting out of our sight as he, with Greta were parked somewhere else. "So, did he worked ?" He asked us through Park's radio, going back to his car.

"Yeah, it worked !" I exclaimed in an funny tone. "Now, you know that Song has an king-sized bed, awaiting for you." I added before laughing, joined by Park and Zasha too, even if they were a bit silent about it.

"Fuck you, Yirina !" He proclaimed, joking about it and then he laughed, joining us and also Greta that we could hear too laughing.....guess that it was better to destress an bit. "At least, we know that it's working."

"Right." Park snorted before we started to await for Sonya, with everyone taking back their seriousness in both cars and taking a deep breaths for everyone and then....."Here they are !" Park told us, having found out that Sonya was here and she pointed at us the location they were, Zasha taking their binoculars to look at them. "Okay, everyone's quiet." She ordered us and we nodded in approval as Sonya was getting into the phonebooth, starting to dial an number.

"Harry Stone's speaking." It was Stone himself that they were calling as I saw Park getting an bit nervous to hear his phone and I could think of the same for Garrett & Greta.

"It's Sonya Kuzmin at the other side." Sonya started as we could see that they were looking suspicious as they were checking their surroundings.

"So, your brother still have you in West-Berlin....kinda bad for you, isn't it ?" Stone scoffed, joking about Sonya's presence here. "Still wandering around to search about where the MI6......"

"Okay, I'm stopping you right now....lad." Sonya's voice wasn't sounding very nice to Stone.....at least, the hatred for Stone was share by an lot, even for Perseus member. "I'm not here to do your dirty work, it's your job to find where's the MI6 task force is hiding to get your ass down." They explained, looking from afar a bit angry. "Me, I'm just here to make sure that your deliveries are done to our mens."

"You don't understand, right, fucker ?" Stone started also to get angry. "I can't make an fucking delivery if the MI6 is neutralizing one by one my contacts...right now, I've lost contacts from the US Army and the British one....only our supplier from the KGB is remaining." He added, wanting to make things clear with Sonya. "If you don't help me...."

"I told you that it's your fucking problem, dickhead." Sonya affirmed....the two doesn't get along well...."You got your own men and frankly, it's your fault if you fucked up everything."

"Are you giving me an lesson about how to do my job ?" He asked, sounding angry & curious to know. "I've been with Perseus for years now and I'm getting an lesson from an beginner ?"

"Me, an beginner ?" Sonya said, sounding taken aback by Stone's words. "Says the one who is getting his operations destroyed one by one."

"Listen to me, stupid russian !" Stone ordered in an harsh voice. "I know that the MI6 task force is leaded by Helen Park and her stupid friends." I looked at Park, getting angry and I put my hands on hers to calm her down. "So, you might...."

"You're deaf or something ?" Sonya questioned him. "I'm not going to help you, Stone." They repeated again, taking an second between each word before speaking again. "And frankly, I never going to help someone like you."

"Fuck you, Sonya !" Stone affirmed.

"Yeah, fuck you too, Harry Stone !" Sonya affirmed back before they hang up the phone. They didn't talked too much about their works and more getting angry against each other. We now wait that they were leaving the phonebooth.

"Wait, they're making another call !" Zasha exclaimed as they could see Sonya dial another number so we decided to listen to it too.

"Freya Helvig !" This time, it was Freya herself, sending in me some chills as for Zasha, they were shocked to hear her voice again....they know of me & her.

"Hi, it's me, Sonya." Sonya whispered, changing from her angry voice to an more peaceful voice.

"Oh, Sonya....it's so nice that you called me." Freya said, sounding enthuastic from hearing Sonya. "How's West-Berlin ?"

"Well, it's kinda depressing and boring." Sonya replied....to say that we have an lot of common points between me & Sonya....except the sides we have took. "Where are you ?" They asked her.

"Right now ? I'm in Ukraine...paying tribute to an close friend." Freya responded, sounding low.

"Where in Ukraine ?" Sonya continued in their questions.

"Uhm....an small village near Donetsk....where that person lived in their youth...." Freya added to her responses as Zasha gave me an tap on the shoulders.

"Damnit, Yirina, it's where you lived before !" They exclaimed, making my eyes go wide as I was looking to Sonya and I looked at Zasha, looking shocked as they just told me where I lived before.

"Really ?" I breathed and they nodded before I looked back to Sonya, trying to calm myself down.

"Sonya, it's better that you don't know about who that person was." Freya exclaimed, having missed an little part of their discussion. "It's too personal." She added

"Even for your love ?" Sonya was sounding a bit disturbed to be refused to know....they maybe asked about who was the mysterious person....who was me of course.

"Yes, it's too....risky and frankly, it's for your own good." Freya admitted, hearing her taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry but....I have to go, Sonya, I'm sorry."

"Already ?"

"Yes, there's Perseus soldiers that just arrived here and I think I'm needed." Freya sniffed. "Where are you coming back ?"

"I don't know....maybe tonight or tomorrow." Sonya said, not sure of their own words. "I will try my best."

"Ok, be well, Sonya...love you !" Freya snorted.

"Love you too, Freya." Sonya breathed gently before they hanged up the phone again, leaving them alone in the phonebooth. Me, I was kinda stressed to have heard Freya's voice and Zasha too. Been 2 weeks I didn't hear it, 3 years for Zasha.

"Fuck, I never thought that I will hear that voice again." Zasha affirmed to themselves, looking away.

"Okay, they're leaving now." Park said as we could see Sonya starting to leave the phonebooth....until we saw an black van arriving next to their position. "What the fuck ?" Park added as we could see two masked person getting out of the van from it's right side and suddenly put an bag on Sonya's head as they were struggling with those peoples before they were put in the van as the bystanders were doing nothing to help...it wasn't us neither Garrett & Greta acting....

"Shit !" I started the car's engine as Sonya was like the only person that could help us to have some answers...we couldn't let them get kidnapped by others people. "We need to save them for the moment." I added as I drove off the parking at unusual speed.

"Garrett, Greta, Sonya has just been captured by someone else in an black van, we're pursuing it." Park started to said in the radio as I was now on the road to pursue the van getting away.

"We got it in visual, we're joining you !" Greta affirmed as we were passing through the multiples cars in the street, breaking the traffics laws as it was necessary to do so.

"Okay, it's in sight." I whispered, seeing the van from afar and getting close to it as we were now driving on the big 17th of June Street, right in the center of Berlin. "I'm gonna get closer and trying to stop the van." I said, not sure as the car I was driving was an bit smaller than the van.

"I'm gonna try to shoot the wheels." Park got her own pistol from her jacket and loading it with an new mag. It was stressful as that street wasn't so peaceful to drive on, with an lot of cars to avoid while in high speed. Somehow, I managed to get myself next to the van, allowing Park to try to shoot the van's wheels but it was something that the van's driver expected as they saw us coming next to the van. The van tried to push us away but I managed to get away from its manoeuvers, avoiding an bus in the process. "Shit, those guys are crazy." Park breathed as she almost got her arm crushed between her door and the van.

As I was trying to get myself back next to the van, another car...the one Garrett & Greta were using suddenly arrived from the Klopstockstraße street and hit the van on its right side, sending it flying on its left side on the street and by impact, I nearly managed to avoid Garrett & Greta's car, almost hitting us too and I quickly stopped myself as we saw the van crashing and their car at the same time.

"Shit, Zasha, go check Greta & Garrett." I ordered them as I was taking out my M1911 from my jacket. "I'm gonna go with Park to the van."

"Understood." They agreed as they started to leave the car, running in the crashed car as me were checking my pistol mag before getting out of the car with Park, running to get to the van.

"They didn't go easy on it." Park affirmed, looking at the van and the place of the impact of it as we got close to it.

"Check the driver, I'm going to open the back doors." I proposed and she nodded before she moved to get to the front of the van as I was going behind it.

The doors were like hard to open but I managed to open them....and to be greeted by an wounded masked man, jumping on me by surprise. I didn't have time to fire an single shot that I found myself on the ground with this person on top of me, controlling the arm where I was using my M1911. He then tried to move my arm towards me, wanting me to shoot myself with the gun but I punched right into his face and kicked him right into the nuts, causing him to lose his grasp on me and when I was about to shoot him, three bullets flied to hit him in the chest, killing the guy and when I looked behind, I could see Zasha with an gun in their hands.

"You're okay ?" They asked me as they helped to get up, I nodded to them.

"Pretty good, see that you're still an good shooter." I complimented them with an grin before looking behind them "The others, how are they ?" I asked them back.

"They're good but an bit wounded from the crash, they're in the car we're using." They replied as Park arrived to get to us.

"I just heard shots, you're alright ?" Park questioned us and we both nodded before we looked back inside. "What about Sonya ?"

"Good, I think...Zasha, get the car next to the van." I ordered them as I started to move to get inside the crashed van with Park, finding Sonya unconscious but still alive below the bag on their head. "Still breathing." I added before I took them with me in my arms, getting helped by Park with it to get it out of the van as Zasha arrived with the car.

"Let's put them in the trunk." Park moved near it and she opened it with her free hands as we put Sonya inside, gently. "Okay, let's get the hell out of here before the police showed up." She continued as I closed the trunk and getting myself installed in the empty front passenger seat with Zasha driving as Park got next to Garrett & Greta who got some minimal wounds on their faces despite the crash they did. We then got away from the scene quickly as we were just in an very public place. I breathed as we were going far from everyone's attention.....

"Well, that went quite unexpected to say....."

[pathcrier]

This ask game has alot of good questions!! But 💖 and 😊 for all the ocs in your tags!

THIS IS VERY LONG IM SORRY HAHA

💖 Has your OC ever been in love, be it romantic or platonic or otherwise? Who with and did they ever express their feelings or keep it private? How long did these feelings persist / do they still feel this way?

Dahlia Shepard: romantically, she had been in love exactly three times. First time was with a girl back during Alliance training, Catalina. She was head over heels but never really told her, just because she felt it wouldn't work out in the end and let her doubts overcome her. Lasted for nearly a year, and no, she's completely over her (and actually attended her wedding and felt nothing but happiness for her.) Second was Aria T'loak, back when she was undercover on Omega. They had worked closely for months (trying to catch a cerberus cell leader) and had been seeing each other- but Dahlia presumed it was just a casual fling and would be over once she was finished. Dahlia knew once she was back in Alliance space, it wouldn't work out, and left it at that. Took a bit longer for her to get over this time, but she eventually did after focusing solely on her military career. Finally the woman she would easily rescue a galaxy for, Liara. For the first time, Dahlia allowed herself to be selfish and to want to be in a longstanding relationship. For the first time she sees herself willing to sacrifice everything for the one she loves, she is beyond head over heels for Liara. She platonically falls in love with every one of her friends, even if she's the worst at showing it. She loves these people more than life itself.

Nicola Amell: growing up in the Circle, with templars looming over your shoulders every second of the day- she never really bothered to invest any time in crushes, never giving them the chance to grow into something more. She devoted all her time to her studies and squashed any crush at the start. She didn't actually let herself fall in love until she felt her life was on the line, until she met Leliana. It was the first time she ever truly loved another person in a romantic sense, and she was going to live in every moment as if it were her last. Even by the time of the events of Trespasser, Nicola still takes the time and effort to send love letters and gifts to the now Divine Victoria. No amount of blights, ancient tevinters, nor elvish gods will ever keep the Warden Commander from her love.

Delaney Hawke: well, being a half elf mage apostate constantly living on the run for a majority of her life- she never really had time to actively meet people long enough to develop an emotional connection. Most of her crushes were as short lived as their homes. 

Until moving to Kirkwall, that was. Having a crazy band of misfits that constantly follow you around, it's hard not to form attachments. Platonic or romantic. And when she fell for Isabela, she fell hard. I'm talking about head in the clouds, only able to think of one name. She's never experienced a crush like that and it freaked her out. Instead of telling Isabela about her feelings, she ran to Varric. Almost immediately. Delaney unsure of how to handle love in a romantic way, and Isabela shutting love out- it took quite some time for those two to establish themselves in a relationship. But even in those standstills, Delaney had almost expected her heart to move on, but it did the exact opposite- caused her love to grow stronger. Even now in Inquisition time, it took all of Delaney's strength to leave the comfort of Isabela's ship to go aid Varric. Not wanting to be separated for long, but not wanting to leave her best friend high and dry (who she loves very very much.

Gryff Hawke: like his twin sister, Delaney, he never had the time (nor desire really) to search for any love. At the time, the love of his 3 siblings and his parents was enough for him. He was happy and content. He knew he didn't need a relationship to be happy and content, so he never actively searched for one. Hell, even in Kirkwall, he was too busy keeping him and his sister out of Meredith's grasp and keeping the qunari at bay. But he did quite literally stumble into thoughts of a certain glowing elf, and never realized just how far he had fallen for him. Despite their differences they saw on magic, Gryff knew Fenris was the one he wanted to be with. For the first time ever, Gryff was actively seeking out affection for another person romantically. He will never admit it, but it was the best feeling he ever had. His love language is traipsing across thedas taking out slavers with his badass boyfriend.

Kiri Lavellan: Kiri LOVES being in love, adores the feelings of warmth and security a partner brings. She has had a few partners of course, but none ever lasted too long, especially amongst her Dalish clan, where everyone knows everyone's business. That being said though, she doesn't jump right into anything. When she loves someone it's very slowly and then all at once, pouring her heart and soul into her partners. Which was fairly difficult when it came to Sera, given her stance on the dalish, magic, and dalish magic. That didn't deter her though, she was understanding and patient and more than happy to move at Sera's pace. Despite their difficulties and differences, there's never been a stronger bond between pairings- Sera was so devoted to her inky, even as far as post Exalted Council, following Kiri back to her clan and being introduced to Kiri's friends and family.

Niamh Valyn: here's another one who just claims she never has time for a relationship. Not saying she will actively deter them, she just- doesn't expect anyone to want to put up with extensive time apart due to her place with the Rangers. She's fallen in love platonically more than romantically, and she's not going to complain. She loves her friends very dearly, they're her whole world, even if they're miles apart. But when it comes to romance, she finds it to be more difficult to keep a relationship going, finds it more emotionally taxing at times and just hasn't really put any thought into seeking someone out. She's content with where she is, if someone comes along who willingly wants to deal with distance- she will happily accept. 

Ezra Marlowe (because I forgot to tag her and she's my baby): twice. She's fallen in love twice, and the first time damn near killed her. She let herself love so wholly and blindly, she never anticipated being hurt (quite literally.)

After that she felt very scared of any romantic advances, even if she was the one to initiate- she'd eventually run off if her overwhelming fear of being hurt overcame her.

After a while, the second time- it was a very slow, unsure path she took. But this man, the love of her life, Bashir, had proven just how much Ezra means to him. Through patience and care and understanding. Ezra once again allowed herself to love wholeheartedly, and for once, she's not scared.

Roux Lux: now here is someone who falls in love with the world anytime the sun sets or rises. She loves virtually everyone she meets. She falls head over heels for all her friends, in the most platonic way possible. She gives everyone the same special treatment, affection, and adoration as she does with a romantic partner. Though, Beetle may receive extra special treatment for being her amour. When she was ready to tell Beetle how she felt about him, she did so in the cutest puppet show..which she spent days hand crafting her props and painting new marionettes 😭

😊 What can make your OC smile even when they’re feeling down? What cheers them up and makes everything feel better for them? Is your OC generally a happy person and do they enjoy making others smile? What about your OC makes others happy?

Dahlia Shepard: it's hard for her to always feel happy when there's an impending invasion on their doorsteps, but one surefire way to cheer her up is a quick call to her son, Otikk, a little salarian boy. He is such a lively, happy go lucky boy, and always eager to cheer his mama up. Dahlia comes off very brash and intimidating, but she very much loves pulling her friends out of the dark- whether through inspiring words, or distracting them with their favorite hobbies.

Nicola Amell: even with the blight raging, she always looked for the little things to cheer her up. To be honest, just having her closest friends at her back was more than enough. Knowing that she will always have people to pick her back up if she falls was the greatest comfort and a thought that always lingered when she felt low. Making other people happy is what being a hero is all about in her mind. When others around her feel safe and are smiling, that fills her with so much pride and joy.

Delaney Hawke: ah yes, the one who finds any reason to crack a joke- ill timed or not. To be honest whenever she's in a low spot, just curling up in bed with her mabari, Junji, is enough. Though sometimes having Isabela sprawled across next to her, having her tell tales of her life at sea, watching her put on an exaggerated reenactment of exciting fights is just what she needs too. Or sitting around a table with everyone, letting Varric make up stories on the spot, everyone happily buzzed…. Never fails to bring a smile to her face. She's generally very chipper and easy going, so everyone assumes by the amount of quips and playful teasing. Deep below, she's miserable, and full of guilt and self doubt. She doesn't like letting her friends know that, so she puts up this front and goes to any extent to make sure no one else feels how she does.

Gryff Hawke: raging ball of anger who has a hard time letting himself be happy- especially trying to keep himself and his twin alive and out of the Gallows. It's hard to feel happy when everything you do backfires and bites you in the ass, even when you know you did everything you could. Even with this rowdy band of misfits at your back, sometimes it just feels like you're drowning. But sometimes there's a hand to pull you up, bring life and air into your lungs. Having Fenris curled up beside him, quietly and slowly reading through a particularly difficult chapter, pausing to ask you what a word says- it reminds Gryff that there are things worth smiling about, and oftentimes they're the ones to pull you out of the dark.

Kiri Lavellan: being dragged into a humans holy war and being propped up as their god's herald- it takes a lot out of you, and Kiri always fears she is about to get uprooted from her dalish heritage at any moment. So in the quiet rests, she finds herself reciting stories in private that the keeper once told her. Anything that reminds her of her roots, where she comes from. She tries very hard to keep a brave face, a beaming smile, one that would inspire hope amongst her men. She wants others to believe she can do this, that she's not scared, anything to instill security in those around her.

Niamh Valyn: when she's feeling lost or homesick, no matter where she is, she carries a leather-bound journal filled with bedtime stories her mother and father read to her as a child. Cuddled up with her wolf companion, Zarola, and her pipe- it's like all her worries just melt away. Even if she looks stoic and imposing like a stormy mountain, she's a very happy person. She's content with where she is, and easily makes those close to her at ease with her playfulness and cheekiness.

Ezra Marlowe: to her, all her happiness she keeps is heavily guarded and protected, not willing to let it go, risking getting hurt. She has no issues pushing people away and hurting them to protect herself. But that being said, those who truly know her, they know she can be enjoyable to have around...in an annoying sibling kind of way. Always looking to push buttons for a laugh. But on her darkest days, she finds the most comfort in the arms of Bashir. He's one of the fre who can easily calm her nerves, bring her back to reality and truly make her feel safe.

Roux Lux: a walking ray of sunshine, this one. Wherever she goes, she leaves a trail of smiles and mirth in her wake. She love love loves creating smiles and making people laugh and feel good. Its why she joined the circus to begin with, her puppet shows have brought nothing but joyful squeals and it's the greatest feeling in the world to the changeling. She's always in the happiest of moods, rarely is she seen without a smile. Yet on those rare days when she feels small and insignificant- curling up in Beetle's lap and listening to him hum soft appraisal to her is all she needs to bounce back to her original self.

[prettyboy-parker]

starker: the omega in the window

warnings: nff at the end, little bit of stucky, omegas are bought

“Steve, man, shut the fuck up.”

The table roars with laughter, except for Steve, who turns beet red.

“Sam, I swear to God. I’m just excited.”

Sam chuckles softly and shakes his head.

“I’m just teasing. But seriously, if I hear Buckyone more time, I’m going to snap.” He warns, clapping the blonde on the back. Tony smiles and looks down at his almost rock-hard pizza. All this past week, Steve’s only been talking about the omega his parents bought him from one of the private schools, a tiny brunette named Bucky. Some of the group has their doubts, like Clint, who swears everything Steve is saying is a lie. His main argument is that the omega is moving in ‘a week’,which is a ‘lame coverup.’

Tony’s happy for Steve, he really is, but it sucks that he wasn’t the first one to get an omega. His parents insist he needs to meet an omega before they buy him, which is ridiculous, because no one actually does that.

“You wanna come get Bucky’s collar with me after school, Tony?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, sure.” The other Alpha mutters, taking a sip of his apple juice.

Steve shoots him a thumbs up.

🌼🌼

“Do you even know where this place is?”

Steve smiles as they walk down the crowded streets of New York, blue eyes flicking around as he searches for Poppy Petals Omega Boutique.

“Yes. Maybe.” Steve replies and Tony rolls his eyes. There’s a light lavender awning a few stores away, and Tony could guess that’s where they need to be. They walk fast, faster than usual, but slow down when the sign comes into view. And holy shit,his heart stops when they reach the window.

There’s an omega in the window, sleeping on the luxury cream loveseat. He’s snuggled under the fluffy white blanket, lips parted as he naps. His face is gorgeous and peaceful, small freckles dotting his nose, glitter sweeping his plump cheeks. Even sleeping his hair is perfect, almond curls splayed on the pillow.

“Steve,” Tony croaks, eyes not leaving the window. The blonde stops next to him, humming in response. The omega opens his eyes, big whiskey colored orbs glinting with amusement. He smiles softly, sitting up and stretching his arms out in front of him. His white sweater slips down his shoulder, exposing the creamy pale skin underneath.

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Steve jokes, Tony’s brain trying to think of a witty comeback. The other alpha is already opening the front door, and Tony rushes after him.

The bell chimes on the door, and the inside smells so good, like vanilla and honey. An young-ish woman stands behind the cream wooden counter, thick glasses perched on her nose.

“Hi, how are you?” She asks, turning her attention back to the book in her hands. Steve looks uncomfortable, hands tucked into the pockets of his school issued slacks.

“Um, I need a collar for my new omega?” He asks, the woman not tearing her eyes away from her book.

“I can help!”

The voice is the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. The omega from the window is standing between two displays, smiling wide. Tony’s awestruck, eyes dragging over his milky bare thighs.

“You’re gorgeous,” Tony says before Steve can ask anymore questions. The boy flushes beautifully, bashfully looking at the floor. The woman at the counter pulls Steve to one of the corners of the store, thank god, so he can revel in the omega a little bit longer.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” The omega purrs, tucking a soft curl behind his ear.

“Call me Tony, honey,” The alpha responds suavely, finally snapping out of his trance to get his charming, sweet talking personality back. The omega giggles and bounces on his bare feet.

“Hi, Tony!” He chirps, and wraps his arms around the older’s torso. It’s so omegan, hugging instead of a handshake as a greeting. Tony hugs back, and his skin is so soft, he could pet the boy forever.

“I’m Peter!” He giggles when he pulls away, practically vibrating with excitement. Tony yearns to get his hands on that skin again.

“Gorgeous name for a gorgeous omega, I say.” He quips with a wink, squeezing Peter’s bicep gently. The younger lets out a breathy little giggle, nuzzling against the lapel of Tony’s school blazer.

“You think I’m pretty?” He asks softly, eyes wide in disbelief.

“The prettiest I’ve ever seen, Jesus,” Tony, growls licking his dry lips because he’s got an armful of precious omega. Peter hums happily, keening at the praise.

“The sisters at the Pine say all omegas are pretty.” He lilts, and oh, that’s the- that’s the best omega private school in the state. Hell, even the east coast.

“Pine Hill?” Tony repeats as Peter runs his finger over the embroidered Anthonyon his breast pocket.

“Mhm! We get a time back home before visiting week.”

Tony open and closes his mouth a few times.

“Like, where the alphas come and pick an omega?” He confirms, and Peter nods excitedly, then widens his eyes.

“Wait, do you-“ Peter tries to form his words, “Do you want to come?”

“I’ll see if I’m free.”

Peter gasps and bounces up and down.

“Are you serious? I’ve never had an alpha come for me before!”He shouts, squeezing Tony tight. For a split second, the alpha thinks he’s gotten himself in to deep. But, he really wants an omega, and his parents will be proud, and Steve can’t be better than him.

“Yeah. I’ll talk to my parents, okay?”

“Yes! Okay! Aunt May! Guess what?”

🌼🌼

It’s relatively easy to find information on Peter.

With a little digging, he finds the school’s yearbook from the previous year, little Peter Parker with his gorgeous smile and perfect makeup on page 23. May Parker, his aunt, owns the Poppy Petals Omega Boutique, Peter sitting in the window whenever he’s home from school.

He decides to break the news over dinner.

“Mom? Dad?”

Maria and Howard look up from their fettuccine alfredo.

“I, um,” Tony has to cough and clear his throat, “I found an omega.”

Howard raises his eyebrows, almost approvingly. “And?”

“Yeah, well, his name’s Peter. Peter Parker. He goes to Pine Hill.”

His mother inhales sharply. Money’s never a problem for them, it won’t make a dent in their bank account, but probably the fact that Tony even knows what Saint Monica’s is caused the reaction.

“Pine Hill? He must be one of the best trained omegas out there.” She inclines, stabbing at her noodles. Tony nods, Howard still staying silent. “And where did you meet him?”

“I went with Steve to pick up something from that boutique in the city. He was there in the window,” Tony has to pause to take a breath. “God, mom, he’s beautiful.”

Maria smiles softly and Howard looks impressed.

“And visitation week is soon, I presume?” His mother presses. She always needs to know what’s going on and every little detail.

“Yeah, next Monday. The website says we need to call in and schedule an appointment if we have a specific omega in mind.” Tony tells her, pushing his noodles around impatiently. “I can call, if you want.”

“That would be very responsible of you, Anthony.” His father says, and Tony almost shoots him a glare, but remembers that he’s the one that’s going to pay thousands of dollars for his omega.

For Tony, dinner goes by way too slowly. He’s bursting with excitement when his parents dismiss him from the table, scrambling upstairs to his phone. He dials the school’s number, and a woman picks up immediately.

“Pine Hill School for Omegas, this is Abigail. How may I help you?”

“Hi, um, I was looking to meet an omega, possibly take him home?”

“Of course!” She chirps, and Tony leans back in his desk chair. “Do you want us to pair you up with an omega, or do you have one in mind?”

“I was interested in Peter Parker?” He says, and deep down inside he can’t believe this conversation is actually happening.

“Oh, yes! He’s a sweetheart. Is there a day next week which would be best for you?”

“Yeah, I don’t have football practice on Wednesday. That would be best.”Tony tells her, flipping a pen absentmindedly.

“That’s perfect. We have a spot open for 3:15. Will that work?”

“Sounds great.”

“You’re legal guardians will have to attend as well. Can I have a name for the appointment?”

“Tony Stark.”

There’s a silence from the receptionist.

“Mr. Stark, I had no idea. I’ll be seeing you Wednesday!”

“Yup. Thanks so much.”

“Have a nice day!”

He hangs the phone up, lets out a sigh, and smiles.

🌼🌼

“Mom, do I look okay?”

Maria rolls her eyes, squeezing Tony’s shoulder gently. The alpha continues to fiddle with his hair, looking at the reflection on the car window.

“You look wonderful, Anthony. He’ll love you.” She coos, swatting his hand away from his hand. Tony takes a deep breath and turns to the school.

It’s beautiful, really. Built in the late 1800’s, the school has two large towers and a rustic feel from the worn walls. The landscaping is a contrast to the building, greens and purples and blues around the front and down the path. Pine Hill School for Omegas is written above the huge double doors, the gold plated letters glinting in the April sun.

“Come on, we’ll be late.” His father huffs, gravel crunching under his shined Oxfords. His mother grabs Howard’s arm to steady herself, black heels not intended for walking on the small pebbles.  Tony trails behind them, smoothing out his navy dress shirt. There’s more people than he would expect on a normal school day, alphas of all types getting out of their cars and heading inside.

The main lobby is cool, with tall windows and even bigger ceilings. There’s a giant, glittering, gold chandelier hanging over the white marble floors. There’s a receptionist desk to the right, and Tony’s parents wait beside the doors as he checks in.

“Hi, Mr. Stark!” The receptionist greets cheerily. The metal name tag on her desk reads Abigail Walter, the lady he spoke with on the phone. “You’re just in time. Peter and our Head of Affairs are ready to see you.”

“Thank you, Ms. Walter.” He responds with a impatient smile.

“Conference Room 15. Just keep going down this main hall, and it’s on the right.”

Tony flashes another smile and heads to his parents.

“Come on, mom!” Tony laughs, resisting the urge to sprint down the fucking hall to meet his omega. Maria smiles her warm smile, adjusting her blouse and following Tony. They locate Conference Room 15 pretty easily, and the door’s open, Tony’s breath catching in his throat because Peter is sitting at the side of the conference table.

“Tony! Tony!” He squeals, and Tony can’t help but smile wide, sitting down across from him. The omega is beaming, lips shiny with gloss. The woman from the store, May, sits next to him, lips drawn in a tight line. Another beta woman is at the head of the table, dark brown hair pulled into a low ponytail, bangs swept to the side.

“I’m Maria Hill, Head of Affairs at the school. We’ll be talking about how this all works, okay?”

The group spends the next hour going through stacks of paperwork. Peter doesn’t do anything, just sits there and sneaks glances of Tony. The alpha will wink when he meets Peter’s gaze, causing the little thing to flush prettily. There’s a lot of signing on dotted lines, and Tony’s pretty sure his signature has improved the most it ever has before. May agrees to letting Peter into the Stark family. Ms. Hill makes it clear that they can’t bar Peter from visiting his family or friends, which is perfectly understandable.

Truly, Tony will let him do anything his heart desires.

Ms. Hill asks the two to go get Peter’s luggage from his dorm, and the omega jumps up excitedly. It’s the first time Tony gets a glimpse of his school uniform, the top like his own but a pleated skirt on the bottom.

“Alpha, I can show you my dorm!” Peter exclaims, pulling Tony out of the office chair and into the main hallway.

“Peter, slow down!” The alpha chuckles as Peter rushes down the hall, to one of the sets of stairs in the corner. The boy giggles as Tony grips his waist, stopping them before the first set of stairs.

“You’re amazing,” He breathes, Peter pressed to his chest, staring at him lovingly.

“Can I have a kiss?” The omega asks quietly, so innocent and sweet Tony’s heart just melts. He laughs softly and presses his lips to Peter’s. He tastes like cake and cookies, and he’s so inexperienced it’s endearing.

“Mm, Alpha.” He purrs, nuzzling into Tony’s silk shirt.

“We have to get your stuff, baby.”

The pet name slips out so easily, and Peter likes it, if his wide smile says anything.

The omega babbles all the way up the stairs, and through the hallways, holding Tony’s hand as he winds his way through the dorm wing. The other omegas who are in the hall stare at them with jealousy. It pets Tony’s ego for sure, knowing that Peter’s the one who gets him.

They stop at room 237, a handmade sign reading Peter + Harley! in neon script under the worn numbers.

“We have a special knock.” Peter giggles, rapping his knuckles on the door in a rapid succession. The door swings open, a dark blonde omega standing inside.

“Pete, what-“ He stops mid-sentence when he catches a glimpse of Tony.

“Alpha, this is my best friend Harley! Harls, this is my alpha Tony!” Peter shares, pushing past Harley and pulling Tony into his dorm. It’s not terrible, not as big as Tony’s, but it doesn’t matter now.

“Peter, you didn’t tell me Tony fucking Stark was taking you home.” Harley snaps, collapsing on the wooden chair in front of his desk. Peter just giggles as he pushes Tony down onto the bed.

“I did! I said Tony, didn’t I?” He quips, pressing a kiss to Tony’s cheek as he hands him two duffle bags and a suitcase.

“There’s a million Tony’s.” Harley huffs as Peter shucks off his blazer.

“‘M gonna change, alpha, sit tight!” Peter giggles and fuck, he’s undressing down to his white lace panties. Tony has to lick his dry lips, because Peter is stunning, with miles of perfect skin and a tiny omega cock nestled in the lace.

“You’re staring,” Peter teases as he slips on a loose, white button up. It’s stylish, tied in the front with short sleeves. He pairs that with tiny white denim shorts, and he looks like a literal angel.

“How can I not?” Tony smiles as Peter kisses him softly. He hums happily, running his hands on the omega’s tiny waist.

“Save the sex for later, Peter.”

Peter pulls away quickly, face heated in embarrassment. Tony kisses his cheek and coos, slinging the two duffel bags over his shoulders.

“You’re so strong, Tony.” Peter purrs, eagerly peppering kisses onto the elder’s neck. The alpha just chuckles, holding his suitcase in one of his free hands.

“Bye Harley, ‘m gonna miss you.”

Peter squeezes Harley tight, reallytight, and the other omega grimaces.

“Keep in touch!” He squeaks, and Tony follows him out the door. The only sound in the hallway is the wheels of the suitcase on the burgundy carpet.

Peter asks a million questions a minute as Tony carries the case down the steps. It’s not even close to annoying, he answers every question to a T. He spots his parents and May standing in the lobby, making small talk.

“Are you ready, boys?” His mother asks sweetly, and Peter nods. He makes his way over to May, who holds him gently. Tony turns to his parents to give the two some privacy, May muttering something to her nephew.

“Take care of him.” May says to Tony, and he nods vigorously. He may be..a little intimidated by the older alpha and her hard stare. Peter takes Tony’s hand in his, nuzzling close into his arm.

“Alpha?” He asks softly as Tony’s parents shake May’s hand. Tony looks down at his boy, gazing into those wide honey eyes. “Are we going home?”

Tony laughs loudly and kisses those baby soft cheeks, causing Peter to squeal and giggle.

“We’re going to go out for dinner, how does that sound?” Howard speaks up, and Peter clasps his hands together happily.

Dinner is nice.

He orders Peter 3 different dishes, lobster, steak, and shrimp. He’s precious, eating the food with his thin fingers, practically moaning at each piece. The omega even took to nudging small pieces of steak at Tony’s lips, almost bursting into tears when Tony said he has his own food. Peter is thrilled when the waitress asks if they want desserts, and Maria encourages him to order as much as he wants. Peter teared up when Tony put his debit card in the check, expressing how he’s such a good alpha and I love you so much.

“Alpha?” Peter whispers in Tony’s ear during the car ride home, bellies full with expensive meals. “When we get home, can we- can you give me your knot?”

Tony has to bite his lip to keep from growling.

“Yeah baby,” He mutters against the shell of Peter’s ear. “You want my knot? You’ll get it, because you’re such a good boy.”

Tony licks up Peter’s neck, making the younger squirm. He smells delicious when he’s aroused, and Tony can see Howard’s hands tighten on the steering wheel as they pull in their driveway.

“Welcome home, baby boy.”

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

Celebrity Crush

@shaonharryandpannisim​ and for anyone who wants to listen :)

TL DR; Of course it’s normal to have celebrity crushes and more than often it’s exactly what you said - admiration + healthy dose of ‘I will watch this project ‘cause they’re in it.’ BUT the other side is so toxic that it has permanently turned me off from having celeb crushes in general. 

Crush /krəSH/

noun

(informal) a brief but intense infatuation for someone, especially someone unattainable or inappropriate.

Warning: The following is completely my opinion and please continue having your healthy crushes. It’s mostly why I don’t crush. Thanks to coming for my biased TED talk in advance.

I will be chiefly discussing Barun Sobti and Adam Driver. 

First Contact w/ Unhealthy Fandom

The first time I saw a man and went WOW that’s one really good looking person was Barun Sobti as Arnav Singh Raizada - ok he did look like a little baby for the first few episodes but then he does this backward glance while walking away from his love interest and I felt the intensity of the gaze. And of course, that’s the goal of the whole scene. 

So I jumped into the fandom, truly ready to discuss about how amazing he is BUT BUT BUT there were some very weird people out there. Like complete creeps to be honest. 

- The people who thought that Barun Sobti should have a ‘better’ wife. Like she isn’t “enough” or some shit like that. 

- People who think that he and Sanaya (his co star of IPKKND) are married / should be married / are having an affair - crap like that. Like people who can’t differentiate between Arnav Singh Raizada and Barun Sobti. 

- People who think that because they see him on their screens all day, they typically own aspects of his life and are offended by his choice of privacy. So they can pass opinions, think they are a better match for him or that he should be working on all projects solely with Sanaya? (I wanna see them back but please - not this way!)

Maybe I was searching the wrong places all the time but it’s so difficult to communicate wholesome admiration. I, never ever, want to hug/kiss/physically get close or even meet him ‘cause I’m a weird person (lol) and genuinely I’d always like to meet Sobti in the capacity of a friend / respectful fan than anything else. 

So I thought this was an issue that only was there with Sobti *cue lol hah*, no it just gets amplified with the bigger someone’s star status is. 

Fans Who Can Be Batshit Crazy

*enters* Adam Driver. 

Okay, I can wax out fifteen hundred poetries for this man because I am in love with his talent, dedication, skill and yes he does look amazing. In a lot of places he’s called the ‘sex symbol’ of the millennium and I would agree!

He’s a bloody good actor - I’d spend any amount of money to watch him. But like apart from worshipping his talent and being in awe of his physicality and thinking that the Lord took his time to make this man - yup, ends right about there. Do I imagine to be his wife or even have him physically close to me *ew no*? No. 

People who comment on the actor’s partner, their children, etc. I once found a weird comment where a person asked how would their child find their father/mother intensely attractive and having a great chemistry with someone else? 

Oh God... let’s not even begin there! For a child the parent is always the parent - ideally a lovable, protective, figure. Even if the parent is Hercules! 

Also Adam played a character who was sexually very, very active and there’s a bunch of people who CANNOT differentiate between him and his character.  

Again, some people who think they own him or can pass judgements on his personal life just because they see him in their screens all the time. 

The Good Fans

I won’t go into majority or minority because of course I don’t have any statistics! But then here’s a section of amazing and fantastic fans who have an infatuation and are very aware of everything and in fact laugh it off and don’t assume a sort of right over their choice of actor! 

So it is a bunch of people who are like “yum Driver is delicious!” or like “eyes, eyes Sobti’s eyes!” and THESE ARE THE SAME PEOPLE who would battle anyone who said that they should get different wives or shit like that. 

They truly love the person. For their talent, personality, personal lives and with a healthy dose of naughtiness. John Oliver’s segment on Adam Driver always cracks me up because, at the end of the day, it’s a joke :) 

These are the people who write excellent smut, and are very aware of the difference between the actor and character he plays, and are VERY RESPECTFUL in nature.

This bunch of fans wish they were married (in a completely hilarious, joking, way) to the actor, or had an intense eye staring (again, humor and silliness is the ultimate result), or at least danced/romanced their favorite actor.

Mainly, they love the actor, their characters, their families, their choice to be private and everything else! 

The Respectful Fans

They are not infatuated with the actor, but deeply respect the actor and are ready to defend the actor against the world. I fall here, I don’t feel romantically inclined to do anything with the actor but I do love them, with all my heart and soul. 

And maybe I would want someone to be the way the actor’s CHARACTERS behave. Or maybe have the actor’s qualities (presumed) of loyalty, kindness, etc? 

“Thirst Tweets”

I have a love-hate relationship with this because you don’t know if it’s a person who is a Good Fan with some excellent smutty thoughts or it’s a Weird Fan. Also it puts a lot of us into the assumption that the actor wants to hear it? 

And if it’s around promotions time then a lot of actors perform as their characters than themselves you know? 

Some actors absolutely revel in it and know how to deflect the dirtiest of tweets with their comments - they’re absolutely in sync with the thoughts *Henry Cavill’s reaction is the best, even Tom Ellis* 

And some actors, dear Lord, they are so embarrassed that they don’t know how to react, call out what’s weird but appreciate the sweet ones *Shawn Mendes*. 

If You Love the Actor, Love their Private Lives

One final note in all of this, if we love the actor we must love his/her/their choice of privacy :) Actors like Sobti, Driver are intensely private so that should be taken into consideration :) I find it weird when some criticize that. It’s their life, we love them, we should love the entirety of them! 

What do People Think About Crushes?

Sorry @shaonharryandpannisim​, I’m finally coming to your question - I don’t know. But because of my little, weird travels through the several kind of fans - I just feel the need to explain people what I have when I say I ‘crush’ on someone. 

That I genuinely love the actor, love their characters, can spend a few moments thinking that their the perfect creation of the Lord, if they played a character who’s single then would totally put my dibs on the character in the alternate universe BUT I HAVE NO REAL INTENTIONS FOR THE REAL PERSON. Please no.

Also, if they ended up being shitty people then I don’t care how handsome / talented the person is. They’re immediately out of my admiration list. 

But I don’t think you have to worry because we all know what a sweet crush means for you and for most sensible people <3 Even actors have crushes - Ranbir Kapoor for Madhuri Dixit, etc. 

Takeaway

If you’re sensible - CRUSH AWAY. Stay away from weird people. And generally people know what a genuine, sincere crush is so don’t worry (I might have just studied toxic celebrity culture in university too). 

Some people who I know on Tumblr who really know how to show appreciation: @m0hinii​ / @tellywoodtrash​, @ferociouspompom​ / @phati-sari​, @zaphbeeblebrox​, @arnavsinghraizada​ / @da-vinci-of-our-time-blog​ to name a few. 

Thank you,

Tata,

S / Jalebi.

[ceescedasticity]

more director’s commentary

                                                                                                                                Anonymous said: Oh wow, that director’s commentary is so interesting! Do you mind if I ask for a director’s commentary for the first and second scenes in chapter 3 of Escher, when Yusuke wakes up in the past? Thanks!

Sure!

Yusuke considered his options carefully and rationally, and then refused to get out of bed. When Sensei stepped in to ask if he was feeling all right, he pulled his blanket over his head. He did not want to talk to Sensei. This was a bad dream. If the Holy Grail wanted to torment them as they disappeared Yusuke supposed that was its prerogative, but he didn't have to play along.

It just doesn’t want to block quote that paragraph... Anyway. Several of the others after remembering worry that it might not be real, but I think Yusuke is the only one to just immediately conclude hallucination. He’s evidently much less confident in his grip on reality and/or much more paranoid about the Holy Grail’s mind games.

"Yusuke-kun?" said someone who wasn't Sensei. "Are you not feeling well?"

That was not a very good way to get him to get up.

Losing Hitoshi HURT, badly, and Yusuke dealt with it by wrapping it up and setting it aside and not dealing with it, and he doesn’t want to pull it back out.

"Yuuuuuusuke-kuuuuun, come on," Hitoshi-senpai said, just like he hadn't been dead for a year and a half. The nerve. "I know you're awake under there."

Best not to do anything to encourage it.

"Fair warning, I'm taking your blanket in five… four… three… two…"

The blanket was yanked away before the count reached one, let alone zero, and Yusuke was left blinking up at… Hitoshi-senpai. He looked perfectly normal, not at all like someone who'd jumped in front of a train.

Since Yusuke is still at least half-sure this is a Holy-Grail-driven hallucination, he was at least half-expecting gore.

(Not that Yusuke had seen him, after. Hitoshi-senpai had jumped while Yusuke was at school. He hadn't found out until he got home in the afternoon.)

Madarame found out a few hours earlier and could have called Kosei and had Yusuke pulled out of class. He didn’t. This was... well, saying it was meant kindly is a bit strong, not calling him earlier also made things easier for Madarame, but Madarame did think leaving Yusuke in school would make things less painful for Yusuke. He was probably wrong.

"You okay?" Hitoshi-senpai asked. "You're kind of pale…"

If he said 'you look like you've seen a ghost', Yusuke would not be responsible for his actions.

"Well, whatever's wrong, you're only going to feel worse sitting in here in the cold," Hitoshi-senpai went on. "Come on, Kiyomi got the space heater fired up in the studio over an hour ago, weird early riser, and I got us a treat for breakfast!"

…Maybe he would humor the hallucination at least as far as the space heater. "All right."

Being a “shack” the atelier has shitty insulation and possibly no central heating, and if they set up a space heater in every room the circuit breaker might fail as soon as someone used the microwave.

Yusuke opened his clothes chest and stared blankly at the middle school uniforms inside for a moment before digging out worn jeans and a paint-stained sweatshirt. Everything was just like he… remembered leaving it the night before. He'd thought about piling clothes on top of the blanket on his futon for extra warmth, but had decided it wasn't cold enough for that to be necessary.

Funny, that a memory that should be three years old seemed so fresh.

He didn't bother folding up his futon properly. Hitoshi-senpai's on the other side of the room was even messier.

Yusuke is not, by himself, a very tidy person. Yusuke and Hitoshi’s room is a disaster. Madarame has had to ask them to clean the room.

Yusuke peered out into the hall as carefully as if he were trying to ambush a Shadow. He did not want to talk to Sensei right now, hallucinated or otherwise. Not in sight — he was probably back in his private studio, with his own space heater. Or whatever secret climate controls he had to store all those fake 'Sayuri's without ruining them.

Obviously some of the time he’s off at resorts or whatever, but he is at the atelier sometimes, and I suspect his room is nicer than the shack in general looks. --And he would definitely need better climate controls for all those paintings.

Hitoshi-senpai's breakfast treat was store-bought American-style toaster pastries. Which he was attempting to toast on the space heater. Yusuke considered going back to bed.

I don’t think this is even a full manic episode, he’s just being weird.

"There you are," Kiyomi-senpai said. She was sitting by the space heater with a textbook and a notebook. Studying, presumably. Kiyomi-senpai had studied a lot, up until she dropped out of high school (when she left the atelier). "Hitoshi said you weren't feeling well, so I put away all the drawing pencils you left all over the studio last night."

…Yusuke remembered her sending Hitoshi-senpai to make him get up to clean up the mess, but that was the real version, when he hadn't woken up with a shout, then retreated under his blankets and lain in bed for an extra hour refusing to acknowledge anyone. "…Thank you, senpai."

Given a choice of exerting some effort cleaning up a mess someone else made or exerting twice as much effort making the person clean it up themselves, Kiyomi will usually take the second option. (She is very aware of unspoken games of Chore Chicken, knows she is at high risk of losing, and refuses to do so.) Exceptions are granted for health reasons. Don’t get used to it.

"I think these are almost ready," Hitoshi-senpai said. "Sit down, Yusuke-kun."

Yusuke sat, and numbly accepted a space heater pastry.

This was all a little… non-surreal to be a hallucination. No spines or giant veins anywhere. The space heater toaster pastries might have counted as surreal, except he remembered that part actually happening. Hitoshi-senpai could get a little surreal sometimes. Inspired, Sensei had always called it.

Crap, if it’s real, he’ll have to deal with it.

"You really don't look very good," Hitoshi-senpai said critically. "Hey, Kiyomi, how's the slush fund looking?"

"A lot smaller than it was before we splurged on the wedding present for Ayane-senpai," Kiyomi-senpai replied.

(Ayane-senpai had left the art world to get married less than a month before this. Or, more likely, Ayane-senpai had gotten married to leave Sensei, which then meant she had to leave the art world. None of them had gone to the small wedding, but Hitoshi-senpai had insisted the four remaining students — the three who lived at the atelier plus Natsuhiko-senpai — needed to send Ayane-senpai a wedding gift of some good art supplies so she would know she didn't need to leave art behind. Good art supplies were not cheap.)

Ayane wasn’t as close as the three of them are, more like on the level of Nakanohara (but much less obnoxious). Yusuke has the causality a bit mixed up; she wasn’t going to insist on leaving completely when she got married, just cutting back, but Madarame made an ultimatum and she decided she’d rather leave completely.

"Not to mention all the fried chicken last week," Kiyomi-senpai continued. "And the osechi, which incidentally had better still be in the fridge when it's actually New Year."

Osechi.

Ah, yes, unlike the 'end of exams' cake which had vanished before Kiyomi-senpai was even halfway through her end-of-term exams. It had been Yusuke. Hitoshi-senpai had covered for him.

No one was fooled.

Hitoshi-senpai frowned. "I thought Sensei paid for osechi this year."

"Sensei said he wanted to pay for the osechi." There were deserts less dry than Kiyomi-senpai's voice. "He never said he would."

"Right…" Hitoshi-senpai sighed.

"But if Yusuke-kun really needs a doctor… I think… I'm pretty sure Sensei would cover that."

"I don't need a doctor," Yusuke said quickly. Sensei probably would cover it. He'd also find a way to make them feel bad about asking.

Yusuke is right.

"You sure?" Kiyomi-senpai asked. "Even if he… doesn't have the cash handy, if it's really an emergency…"

If the slush fund isn’t enough, and Madarame won’t pay up, and it’s REALLY SERIOUSLY AN EMERGENCY, Kiyomi can call some of her relatives and ask for a loan. They would never let her forget it and it would make things generally more difficult with her family going forward, but apart from this art school/apprenticeship/career nonsense, Kiyomi is a Sensible Girl, and she has never said something is an emergency if it wasn’t actually an emergency, so if she asked for help they would help. They really could be a lot worse.

"It's not an emergency at all, senpai. I just… had a bad dream."

"Must've been pretty bad," Hitoshi-senpai said, before eating the last space heater pastry.

Oh, why not. "Kiyomi-senpai had gone back to her family in Iwate," Yusuke said flatly.

"That's bad, all right—"

They could be a lot worse but they are still best appreciated from a distance. Hitoshi has heard more about them than Yusuke has.

"And you were dead," Yusuke continued before they could start with that joke. "You — were hit by a train. Sensei had been arrested. Then a giant evil golden cup took over everyone's cognition and Tokyo merged with the skeleton and innards of some nameless cosmic beast."

Hitoshi-senpai blinked. "Uh."

"It killed all of us," Yusuke went on calmly. "And I'm still not sure if that was the dream or is I'm dreaming now while it's killing us."

Is thinking the future may have been a dream an improvement over thinking this is currently a dream? Idk.

"…I'll check and see what the clinic hours are," Kiyomi-senpai said.

"What? No—"

And there goes their free day!

[the-delta-42]

War Circle 3

War Circle 3

Chilling discovery

Michael was checking the other computers when Damocles arrived. Before Damocles could even get a word out, Michael gestured for him to come around the desk, before turning the screen to show Damocles his discovery.

Damocles paled, before he stood up straight.

“How many other computers have you found…that on?” Damocles spluttered, as Michael frowned.

“Three, not including that initial one.” Said Michael, “We’re going to have to get the Police involved, if this is brushed under the rug and the public find out, the school is going to be finished.”

Damocles made a strained growling noise, “How many of the pictures are of the students?”

“They’re separated into folders, probably to ‘keep them organised’.” Said Michael, as the seventh computer opened its files to show more pictures, “A member of staff has been drugging students and, at the very least, taken indecent images of them. I think the previous tech support guy may have been in charge, or at least known about it and that’s not even covering the stuff that’s in the other folders.”

Damocles quickly left the office, leaving a confused Michael behind. Michael looked over the newly opened file and his heart froze.

WC

“Why am I doing this again?” Caline asked, as she and Michael approached the girls changing room.

“The same reason I’ve managed to get other members of staff to go into the various bathrooms and changing rooms in the school,” Said Michael, his face set in a scowl, “Someone has been taking inappropriate images of students, male and female, and selling them. At least three of the bathrooms have had cameras installed that aren’t listed in the school database.”

Caline stopped and looked at Michael’s back, “That doesn’t explain why you’re taking it personally.”

Michael stopped, his head bowing, “Caline, how many of your students have vanished for hours on end and come back unable to explain where they’ve been?”

Caline stopped and though for a moment, “All my students have done it at least once.”

“How would you react if you came across an image of a close friend or family member in such a state?” Michael asked, as Wynnter flew out of his jacket, “Kwami can’t follow their chosen in certain circumstances, and if the wielder can’t remember an experience, then they cannot alert others to such an occurrence.”

Caline’s heart froze, “Marinette?”

Michael nodded quietly, “From what I’ve seen in the folder, they only drugged her and nothing else, but that fear still picks at the back of my mind.”

“Are you going to tell her?” Asked Caline, drawing level with Michael.

Michael was silent, before responding, “How? How do I look her in the eye and tell her there is a chance she’s been assaulted?”

“What was the folder like?” Caline pressed, “Was it with them in various stages of undress, was it anything beyond that?”

“I-I don’t know.” Michael admitted, “As soon as I saw folder with her name on it, amongst others with that filth, I closed it and started looking around the school.”

Caline was silent, before speaking, “There was a time, after an Akuma attack, when Marinette was very late in coming back to class, at the time I brushed it off, thinking she’d gotten lost, but if that happened…”

They arrived at the changing rooms.

“I’ll see you shortly.” Said Michael, disappearing into the boys, while Caline entered the girls.

Caline looked down at the picture Michael gave her, it was a shot of the changing room, with the door clearly visible. Caline look in the general direction of where the camera should be, only spotting a pile of boxes. Caline frowned and approached the pile, before carefully shifting them, until she came across a camera. That was still recording.

A sudden curse from the next room told Caline that Michael had made a similar discovery.

“The one in here is still recording.” Called Caline, reaching for it.

“Don’t touch it!” Yelled Michael, rushing in through the door, “If it’s recording, then it’s transmitting to an end device and, presumably, downloading straight into the drives of that device. If we’re lucky, we can trace the IP address and find out who it belongs to.”

Caline gave Michael a flat look, “In common speak.”

“It’s probably still connected, and we might be able to follow the signal to the recorder.” Said Michael, bluntly, “Each computer, server, router, etc has its own unique IP address. Well, I say unique, it’s more unique in the general area, that also depends on what type of network it’s connected to.”

Caline continued to give him a flat look.

“We might be able to find the person recording.” Said Michael, sheepishly.

“Now, why didn’t you lead with that?” Asked Caline, pulling out her staff phone and made a quick call to Rolonda.

WC

“Thirty-seven.” Said Mendeleiev, her arms folded, “We had thirty-seven unknown camera’s recording students in what are supposed to be private environments.”

The staffroom was silent. Each staff member had to cut their lessons short for the emergency meeting. Caline looked out a window that overlooked the courtyard, students were mingling around, all quietly trying to find out what had happened.

“We can’t keep this quiet.” Said one of the Literature teachers, “If we do and it then gets out, the school would be finished.”

“Then, we just have to make sure it doesn’t get out.” Said Damocles, rendering the staff silent in shock.

Michael started laughing. Caline knew this laugh, it was humourless and almost mocking, it was generally followed by a tone of cold thunder. Caline had heard it many times during her and Michael’s school days, the last time she heard it was when he broke the arm of one of their peers.

“I’m going to assume that was a poor attempt at a joke,” Started Michael, his tone turning cold, “because if it isn’t, you’re going to need to explain to the doctor why your lower jaw has been ripped off.”

“I’m not joking.” Said Damocles, his face set.

Michael ran a hand over his face, “Have you not listened to a word of what has been said? Is your head so far up your own arse that you think none of this applies to you?”

The art teacher started to get up to calm Michael down, only for Caline to place a hand on his shoulder and quietly shake her head.

“When this gets out, not if, when, and parents find out that you’ve been brushing it under the rug, you’re the one that’s going to go down in flames!” Michael started yelling, “What, exactly, is possibly running through your head?!”

“Do not take that tone with me!” Damocles thundered, “If you even think about releasing any of this, you can kiss your job good-bye.”

Michael immediately calmed, before looking Damocles in the eyes, before saying, “No need, I’m hereby tending my resignation.”

Michael dropped his staff id, keys and phone on the table and brushed past Damocles. Caline hesitated before following suit.

“I quit.”

Caline quickly caught up with Michael as he reached his, soon to be former, office.

“If we can get just one hard drive to the police, they can conduct an official investigation.” Said Michael, pushing the door open, “I need to be quick, since I don’t know if he’s going to be coming down, he-”

The computer that had the evidence was gone, completely missing from the office.

“No need, apparently.” Said Caline, hooking her arm around Michael’s, “Come on, we need to leave before he decides to call the police on us.”

Michael’s face was stony, silently gesturing for Marinette to follow him.

“Get your friends and meet us at the bakery.” Said Michael, quietly, “Try and get everyone out of the school, I have a feeling an Akuma may turn up.”

WC

“His concerns disregarded and swept away,” Said Hawkmoth, “Fly away, my Akuma, and darken his heart.”

WC

Anubis leeringly licked his lips.

He’d seen her, the lovely little French Chinese girl, with her black, almost blue hair, and her big pretty blue eyes. He hadn’t seen her in years and he already yearned for her. He could go down and take her right now, if only she remembered everything he’d done to and for her. His eyes narrowed at the sight of a blond-haired boy next to her.

A scowl formed on his face; the girl was his first.

WC

Tom jumped at the back door slammed open, he almost knocked the bread dough to the floor when Michael stormed in, quickly followed by Marinette, her friends and Marinette’s teacher.

“Don’t ask,” Said Marinette, as Michael stomped up the stairs, “He hasn’t said what’s got him in a bad mood.”

Tom quickly put a back in five minutes sign on the desk, before heading upstairs as well. When he reached the lounge, he found Michael pacing a quietly muttering to himself. Sabine gave Tom a questioning look, to which he shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, I certainly hoped for a better reunion.” Quipped Marinette, getting a glare from Michael.

“Little one, I am seriously considering murder at this point and I really don’t want to drag you into it.” Said Michael, shortly.

Everyone went silent, as Michael kept pacing, until he tripped over the coffee table and hit his head on the arm of the sofa. Caline then decided to have Michael sit down.

“Well, I suppose I should start with something,” Said Michael, looking at his parents, “Hi Mum, hi Dad, I’m now out of a job.”

The resounding what from his parents, Marinette and her friends would’ve made anyone else flinch.

“What do you mean you’re ‘out of a job’?” Said Marinette, loudly.

“Because I found what appeared to be a paedophile’s heaven on an old staff computer.” Said Michael, making everyone go silent, “And Damocles decided to try and brush it under the rug.”

The Akuma that phased through the window froze in mid-air and started to head away from Michael and towards Sabine.

“And when we went to the office to get a hard drive for the police, we found that he’d cleared the lot away.” Michael continued, all unaware of the Akuma until a butterfly emblem appeared on his mother’s face.

“Ah, fuck.” Michael swore.

WC

More staff members left after Caline and Michael, the only three left were the senior staff, and even they had told him that they wanted to leave as well. Damocles ran a hand over his face. None of this could get out, he’d be ruined, more so than the Owl incident. He glanced down at the little data sticks on his desk, he should’ve gotten rid of those computers’ years ago, but he never actually expected someone to actually try and use them again. James never was the competent sort, thought Damocles, but then again, it’s why he hired him, a nice little fall guy, so why was this Michael so different?

Damocles remembered when Michael was a student at the school, he was much like his sister, only he got into more fights and had no trouble admitting when he’d beaten another student senseless. Damocles wondered why the student had thought threatening a former friend with a knife was a good idea, but right now, he just wanted Michael to disappear. He sincerely hoped that this was the last he heard of Michael.

Damocles cast an eye over to the computers in the corner of his office, he hoped that no one would go digging, it was hard enough to cover up the last time, and then he had a fall guy.

An explosion broke him out of his thoughts.

“What the devil?” Grumbled Damocles, as he got up out of his chair.

Suddenly a voice echoed throughout the city.

“Greetings, I am Verity Queen,” Said the voice, “and I shall reveal all evil in this world!”

Not quite the usual motive of Akumas, Damocles hoped Dupain-Cheng hadn’t said anything to the Akuma.

“Today, Hector Damocles tried to dismiss the unforgivable,” Said the Akuma, “Now we shall see what else he has been hiding.”

Ah, fuck.

WC

Verity Queen’s influence over the nearby crowds allowed her to come face to face with Damocles.

“How much have you been covering up?” Came the cold tone of Verity Queen, as Damocles was pushed onto his knees in front of her. A ribbon snaked up Damocles’ body and wrapped itself around his throat, “Let’s play a game, the rules are simple, you tell the truth and the ribbon will slack, but if you lie, it will tighten. Do you understand?”

Damocles nodded, his voice caught in his throat.

“You recently found out about bad pictures on an old computer.” Said Verity Queen, “True or False?”

“Fal-True!” Cried out Damocles, as the ribbon tightened before going slack again.

“You tried to brush it away like a small piece of dirt. True or False?”

“Fals-” Damocles voice was cut off as the ribbon tightened, making him nod.

A large crowed had formed around the Akuma and the Principle.

“Did you know about them when they were taken?” Asked Verity Queen.

“N-YES!” Screamed Damocles, as the ribbon tightened around is throat.

Verity Queen snarled at him, “Did you order them to be taken?”

A ribbon slowly made its way into Damocles’ ear.

“Y-yes…” Gasped Damocles, as whispers broke out amongst the crowd.

“Why?” Asked Verity Queen.

“Because they stood against me, my perfect school, everything that I am owed!” Said Damocles, before Verity Queen threw him aside.

“Listen to how he disregards the wellbeing of your children!” Cried Verity Queen, as Damocles started to scamper away, “How he demanded your children be drugged, striped and molested to satiate his own sick delights!”

Damocles got to the steps of the school, before a ribbon wrapped around his ankle and dragged him back to the group. Damocles could only look on in horror, as one ribbon wrapped itself around a knife handle and positioned the blade to slash him across his throat.

In a flash of light, Damocles flinched, and the ribbon fell limply as the knife clattered to the floor.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.” Came the baritone of one of Paris’s newest heroes, “The amount of mess that would be left over wouldn’t justify the motive, or the pay grade of some of the cleaners in this city.”

“Why are you intervening?” Asked Verity Queen, “After all he’s done…”

“He doesn’t deserve to live! He’s a cruel, cold hearted pervert! He has no morals!” Timber Wolf cut her off, “I agree, but, unfortunately, there are those who would believe he deserves a second chance.”

“Why are you actually interfering?” Asked Verity Queen, as a smirk appeared in Timber Wolf’s eyes.

“Ladybug said she needed a distraction.” As if on que, a yoyo bound Verity Queen’s wrists together and Ladybug flipped over the Akuma, while plucking the Akumatised object from her head.

“CHAT!” Yelled Ladybug, as she threw the object at her partner.

A few flashes of light later, Sabine shook her head, while Chat made sure she was alright. Ladybug and Timber Wolf stood near Damocles.

“It’s almost tragic,” Said Timber Wolf, his coat tails swaying slightly, “He felt he was owed everything he had and everything he did made him lose it.”

Ladybug gave him a questioning look.

“He did what he did because he felt he was invulnerable.” Said Timber Wolf, as Damocles was shoved into a car, “Who do you suppose will replace him?”

“Someone who has a backbone and tighter wallet?” Responded Ladybug.

Timber Wolf laughed, before the police car Damocles had been in exploded.

“What the hell!” Screamed Ladybug, as the flames continued to engulf the car.

“Well,” Said Timber Wolf, after a moment, “that was unexpected.”

WC

The news about Damocles spread quickly, from his cover up, to his arrest and his subsequent death. Many news networks were covering it, some speculating that Damocles was silenced by his peers, some ranting because he escaped justice, others saying that he was an innocent man who was murdered.

Michael was leaning against the kitchen counter when his phone went off. Glancing at the screen, he frowned before answering it.

“Skye?”