#Threaded Bushing Magnets

[laswells-ashtray]

I had a thought and needed to throw it into the void.

Alerudy, Nikprice, Ghoap/GhoapGaz who all become camboys/OF actors because military pay ain't worth much.

Alerudy who like their streams/videos with props, realistic locations and costumes. Don't look too close at the cute little old church for hire in Los Almas, you might recognise the altar Rudy gets railed on.

Nikprice who do indulgent streams. Oily tiddy massages for the win. Nik doing domestic work naked, John being such a good husband and thanking him.

Ghoap and GhoapGaz are for the mask kink people. Best believe Ghost rigged matching balaclavas for his boys. Gotta keep that digital footprint clean and all.

Sarah livestreams EXCLUSIVELY for her wife, free of charge so long as Kate brings back those batman panties/Jurassic Park tshirt she sent in their text thread earlier.

This is lethal. I saw this just after waking up, and I got so distracted I lost my bra.

A vaquero notices one day that the bible belonging to Colonel Vargas is awfully similar to one of an OnlyFans creator by the name of FatherEmilio, right down to the stain on the side of the pages. And his partner in the video has burn scars down the back of his right leg, the same place as Sergeant Major Parra, what a coincidence. Wait, what is the colonel's middle name again...

Nikolai in an apron and a smile, nothing else. He saunters around the kitchen and wanders over to John with a plate of strawberries, cream and melted chocolate. If he has to lick anything spilled off of John's tits then he'll do so graciously. Then he'll massage them and torture his nipples until John's one stroke away from cumming in the admittedly small briefs he's wearing like a teenager.

Ghost who's top viewed video is the camera facing his cock as two masked figures all but fight to suck it until they're sloppily making out, pre cum smaeraed over their lips and the masks, occasionally turning back to offer Ghost's cock a teasing lick because if they're anything, it's polite.

Sarah gets sent a photo by Kate, it's a thong with a bush window in the shape of the Batman logo. Ten minutes later, she's streaming a video with her vibrator on the highest setting, held between her legs over a pair of Kate's panties that she's commandeered. Kate buys her the Batman thong and Jurassic Park fridge magnet after the bit in the stream when Sarah squirts and soaks the panties and then gags herself with them.

[unlikelyeverything]

Passing Time

Ennis Del Mar X Male Reader

Content disclaimer: anal sex, anal fingering, first times (m/m), aggressive sex, internalized homophobia, mentions of cheating.

Synopsis: The year is 1963. You and Ennis are up on Brokeback Mountain, herding and protecting the sheep. Over time, the two of you have begun to open up to each other, slowly but surely. Ennis, ever stoic, has started to share more about himself, his walls cracking just enough to let you glimpse the man behind them. You know he's engaged. You know he's a man. But none of that stops the pull you feel is too strong, undeniable, and impossible to ignore. And so, you decide to act on it.

Word count: 3.5K

18+ Minors Do Not Interact!

Wyoming, 1963.

That summer, you were desperate for work, any work you could find. It didn’t matter what it was as long as it paid. One day, while nursing a drink in a rundown bar, you overheard a man named Joe Aguirre was hiring ranch hands to herd and watch over sheep up on Brokeback Mountain. Herding didn’t bother you much; nothing did, as long as there was money at the end of it.

Every now and then, when you passed a mirror or caught your reflection in a window, you couldn’t help but pause and take stock. A button-up shirt clinging to its last threads, an old coat that had seen better days, jeans worn thin and patched in places, and boots on the verge of giving out. You were holding it together, but just barely.

That’s how you found yourself outside Joe Aguirre’s trailer that morning, waiting to plead your case for the job. But you weren’t alone. Another young man was there, leaning against the side of the trailer like he’d been born to blend into the rugged landscape.

His face spoke of hard labor, the kind that wore a person down in quiet ways, weathered skin stretched over high cheekbones and a strong jawline. His tanned complexion bore the mark of long days spent under the sun, while his hazel-brown eyes carried a distant, guarded expression, as though they had learned to keep the world at arm’s length. His sandy blond hair was unkempt but practical, the kind that hadn’t seen a comb in days but suited him just fine.

His wiry, lean frame spoke of strength earned through relentless work, his posture slightly hunched, as if he carried burdens he rarely shared. He wore what seemed to be the uniform of the Wyoming plains: worn denim jeans, scuffed boots, a plaid shirt under a weathered jacket, and a dusty cowboy hat that looked like it had seen as much of the world as he had. Nothing about him seemed showy or deliberate, yet there was something about his quiet presence that drew your attention.

That was the day you met Ennis Del Mar.

Joe Aguirre wasn’t one for beating around the bush. He laid it all out plain and simple, what he needed from the both of you and what he expected in return. You nodded, agreed, and that was that.

When you stepped out of the trailer, you paused just outside the door, feeling the other man’s presence as he followed behind. Turning to face him, you held out your hand.

“Y/N L/N,” you said, offering a friendly smile.

“Ennis. Ennis Del Mar,” he replied, gripping your hand firmly. His voice was low, steady, and it sent an unexpected shiver down your spine the moment his rough palm met yours.

“Well, Ennis Del Mar,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, “reckon you and I are ‘bout to get to know each other real well.”

An understatement, if there ever was one.

The day you loaded up the dogs, horses, and supplies, you couldn’t stop your eyes from drifting to Ennis whenever you were sure he wasn’t looking. There was something magnetic about him, his quiet strength, his stoic demeanor. He was a mystery you couldn’t help but want to unravel, a man who made you curious about all the parts of him he kept hidden.

You gave your head a quick shake, trying to snap yourself out of it. You had a job to do, and you needed the money. There wasn’t room for distractions, not now. But damn, you thought, this was shaping up to be one hell of a long summer.

The trek up the mountain wasn’t too bad. Herding the sheep went smoother than you’d expected, thanks to the dogs and Ennis, who moved with the easy confidence of someone who’d done this plenty of times before. He handled himself so naturally that you couldn’t help but watch him as you rode behind, your gaze slipping his way more often than you meant it to, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

With the sheep settled in the fields, you and Ennis set up camp nearby. Aguirre’s instructions were clear: one man was to stay at camp while the other slept near the sheep in a pup tent, no fire, no exceptions. Unfortunately, the job of commuting back and forth by horseback each morning and evening for breakfast and dinner fell to you.

After about a week, the constant trips were wearing on you, but strangely enough, seeing Ennis at the camp made it worth the trouble. He didn’t talk much, mostly small talk about the job or ranch life, but something about his quiet presence kept you coming back.

Still, he wouldn’t open up beyond the surface, and you found yourself hesitating in conversations, careful not to push too hard. You didn’t want to overwhelm him or scare him off, just the opposite, in fact. Maybe, you thought, a little whiskey by the fire could loosen both your nerves. It might just be the liquid courage you needed to break through that wall of his.

That night, just before you rode down for dinner, you made sure to tuck a bottle of whiskey into your saddlebag.

By the time you arrived, the sky was already darkening, and there was Ennis, sitting by the fire. A pot of something was simmering, probably soup or beans, and it smelled decent enough to make your stomach rumble. You felt a spark of excitement, this was it. You’d been thinking about how to get Ennis to loosen up all day, and tonight, you had a plan.

You dismounted your horse, pulled the whiskey bottle from the saddlebag, and made your way toward the fire.

When Ennis saw you approach with the bottle in hand, his eyes lit up brighter than you’d seen all trip.

“Been holdin’ out on me, have ya?” he asked with a dry chuckle, the first bit of humor you’d heard from him in a while.

You grinned and shook your head. “Nah, I just forgot I had it, if I’m bein’ honest.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes slightly. “Yeah, I bet.”

A surge of hope warmed your chest. That was the most emotion you’d seen from him in days. Maybe you were finally getting through.

The two of you sat by the fire, sipping whiskey, but not enough to get drunk, just enough to take the edge off. Your plan was working. You started slow, talking about your family, your friends, and life back home, giving him just enough space to feel comfortable. And sure enough, Ennis began to let his guard down, piece by piece, sharing bits of his own story.

As much as you appreciated him finally opening up, his tale was a heavy one. He’d lost his parents, had to leave his brother’s place, and ended up here on Brokeback with you. You didn’t let it show, but you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity for the man, a life full of hardship, loss, and solitude.

But he was talking, and that was a victory in itself. He told you he was engaged to a woman named Alma Beers back home. You mentioned you weren’t involved with anyone, not at the moment anyway.

The conversation drifted, from the serious to the random, but it didn’t matter. This was the most stimulating night you’d had with the rugged cowboy, and you were genuinely enjoying it, just the two of you, the crackling fire, and the faint glow of the stars above.

It was getting late, well past midnight, and you knew you should be heading back to the sheep, but the thought of it just didn’t sit right. Maybe it was the whiskey, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Ennis didn’t want you to leave either.

Ennis wasn’t just any man. He was an engaged man, and this whole thing was getting messier by the minute. Yet, there was something about the way his eyes lingered on you, the way he inched closer when he borrowed your lighter to light his smoke. You couldn’t help it. Ennis Del Mar was messing with your mind, and you couldn’t seem to get him out of your head.

You took a slow breath and shifted in your seat.

"Guess I best be headin’ out to the sheep, see ya in the mornin’," you said, starting to stand. But before you could make it, a strong hand gripped your shoulder, gently but firm, pulling you back down.

You looked to the side, and there he was, eyes locked on you, that look, the one that twisted your insides and stirred something deep inside you. You didn’t know how to stop it, how to fight it.

“It’s late,” he said, his voice low and quiet, his gaze flicking to the tent. “Might as well stay here. Plenty o' room for both of us. Ain’t no sense in makin’ the trip just to come back in the mornin’ for breakfast.”

Your heart raced in your chest. Stay with him? You didn’t think you could do it.

“Yeah, alright. Thanks,” you muttered, barely able to get the words out.

So, that’s just what you did. The fire burned out, and soon enough, you found yourself in a small tent with Ennis. Your bodies brushed against each other now and then, his heat radiating off him like a furnace. It felt good, but you had to force your mind to think about anything other than the way he made you feel.

You lay on your side, back to him, eyes closed, but sleep wouldn’t come. Your body was too restless, too aware of his presence so close behind you.

Then, out of nowhere, you jumped when you heard Ennis clear his throat, breaking the silence between you.

“You still awake?” he asked, his voice low.

Your heart thudded in your chest.

“Yeah, I am,” you managed to say.

He shifted beside you, lying on his back, staring up at the roof of the tent.

“Ya know somethin’,” he began, “you confuse me. When I’m around ya, it makes me feel... weird inside.”

You froze, your mind racing. Was that a compliment? What in the hell did that even mean? You opened your eyes, staring at the side of the tent, still not turning to face him.

“Feel weird, huh?” you tried to laugh, but it came out dry, unsure.

“Yeah... honestly,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of something unspoken. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s frustratin’…”

That got your attention. Ennis, the stoic man, was sayin' he was frustrated by you? You rolled over onto your other side to face him, and found him still lying there, flat on his back.

“I’m frustratin’? How?” you asked, your curiosity now piqued, wondering what he meant.

You studied his face, noticing how genuinely aggravated he looked-like he was wrestling with something inside, trying to find the right words, but they just wouldn't come.

Then, without thinking, your hand found its way to his. It was as if your body had taken over, and your mind couldn't keep up.

Ennis looked at you for a moment, eyes wide with shock, before he jerked his hand away.

"W-what the hell you doin'?" His voice mixed with surprise and something else you couldn't quite place.

Your heart dropped. Panic surged through you, but your mind was scrambling to catch up with what your body had already done. You had no idea what to say nothing felt right.

You slowly sat up, Ennis mirroring your motion, and the two of you locked eyes in the silence that followed. The tension between you was palpable, and as much as you wanted to pull away, you found yourself unable to.

Then, with the faintest light from the moon filtering through the tent, you admired his face rough, and undeniably beautiful.

Slowly, you reached out again, this time to touch the side of his face. To your surprise, he didn't flinch away. He just stared at you, eyes heavy with hesitation, as though he was torn between wanting to pull away and wanting to let himself go.

You didn't think, didn't overanalyze. You just leaned in, pressing your forehead gently against his. He grabbed your shoulders with a force that sent a jolt through you like he was trying to decide whether to push you away or pull you closer.

You didn't wait. You leaned in again, placing soft, tentative kisses on his lips. At first, he didn't respond, but then, slowly, he kissed you back.

Your whole body ignited, and for a moment, you couldn't believe what was happening. What started as hesitant, almost shy kisses quickly turned into something much more desperate pulling at each other, grabbing faces, tangled in each other as if you couldn't get close enough. The kissing grew urgent, raw, and passionate, your hands grasping at him like you might lose him if you didn't hold on tight enough.

It wasn't just desire, it was something fierce, something untamed. And neither of you seemed to know how to stop. But you knew you were heading down a dangerous path. Ennis was engaged, and you weren't a fool. You knew this wouldn't last. All of this would soon come to an end. Still, you couldn't help but let yourself go.

You kept kissing him, pouring your emotions into each and every touch. There wasn't a way to stop now. There was no turning back.

As you explored each other's body, the rhythm of your breathing became one with his, and your desire for each other grew stronger.

When you looked in his eyes, you could see the conflict there, the turmoil, but also the lust. You could see he wanted you, needed you as much as you needed him. That thought sent another wave of desire through you.

You continued, kissing and touching, each kiss deeper than the last. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your hands exploring the curves of his body.

You couldn't get enough of him. You wanted him with every ounce of strength you had.

Finally, you couldn't wait anymore. Your hands eagerly undoing the worn belt of your pants as Ennis’s hands struggled to unbutton his shirt.

As you finally got your pants and briefs down Ennis wasted no time in palming and staring stoke your erect cock as you kissed.

It was sloppy, messy, but it was fucking perfect.

Ennis kissed down your jaw starting to undo his own belt jerking his pants and briefs down to his knees.

“I- I ain’t never done this before” he whispered huskily into your ear.

You’d always been secretly more attracted to men but this was really your first time going this far with one.

“Me neither…” you manage to whisper out of breath.

Without another word Ennis grabbed your hips and flipped you on your stomach not bothering with getting either of you the rest of the way undressed. Suddenly he used one hand to grab your jaw pulling your mouth open just enough to stick his fingers in.

“Suck em, get ‘em wet.” He said bluntly.

For someone who has never done this before he seemed to know what he was doing.

You sucked on his fingers and got them nice and wet, once he finally pulled them out he used his free hand to pull your hips up, arching your ass out for him. He took his fingers and traced them along your entrance eliciting a gasp from you.

It felt weird, but good, and you couldn’t hold back the groan out let out when he finally pushed one finger in.

He went slow, teasing you, taking his time, getting you ready, once you could feel he added a second finger, and he immediately started stretching you out. He used his thumb to tease your balls at the same time, and god, it felt good. You found yourself pushing back onto him and moaning.

You gasp softly, biting your bottom lip.

“S-Shit-“ you gasp.

This only encourages Ennis to keep going, he keeps working you making sure you are ready to take him.

You could feel your cock leaking onto the blankets, and you looked back at Ennis. He had already taken half his shirt off, his muscled chest and body on display.

Ennis looked like he was struggling with self control, like he wanted to push your face in the ground and fuck you senseless but he was also enjoying the tease of it all.

You feel him pull out his fingers and before you could ask what he’s doing you hear him spit in his hand, lathering himself up.

He positioned himself behind you, spreading your ass cheeks and using his spit covered cock to tease you.

This was it, there was no going back now.

With a small thrust he started to enter you, slowly pushing in inch by inch, it took time for him to get all the way in. He was big, really big. But you were ready for it, your body relaxed and you could feel yourself getting used to the size of his cock.

Ennis grabbed your arms and used them to pull himself deeper inside you, his breath coming out heavy.

Then without warning he started moving, starting off with short slow thrusts but soon building up speed and force until he was fucking you hard.

You found yourself moaning loudly, the feeling of him inside you was indescribable. It was so fucking good.

You pushed your ass back on him with each thrust, urging him deeper.

Ennis’s quietness included his sex, the only thing filling the tent was the sound of your combined grunts and moans and the of skin slapping against each other.

Ennis continued to fuck you, picking up speed until finally you felt his cock expand inside you. He moved his hands to your waist holding you in place firmly.

This was good, it was perfect. How could something that was supposed to be so wrong feel so amazing?

Ennis growled and buried himself to the hilt only to pull back and slam back in again.

His one of his hands tightened around your waist, and he used the other to push your face into the blankets. He wasn’t letting up, still going with the same restless energy.

It finally became your undoing and you shot your load onto the blankets below you with a loud groan.

Once Ennis realized you had came he wasn’t holding back anymore, now it was his turn. His thrusts became erratic and his breathing got heavier, he moaned out loud as he unloaded inside you.

It took a few moments for Ennis to come down from his orgasm, his arms still wrapped around you.

“Damn” Ennis spoke first, still buried inside you.

You let out a huff of laughter, “Fuck”

Ennis slowly pulled out, but neither of you moved.

In the quiet darkness, Ennis broke the silence again, “You best not tell nobody about this.” He said matter-of-factly, he wasn’t being mean but you could sense his unease. He had just fucked a man, it was going to take a while for him to get used to that idea.

“Course not.” You said, and Ennis slowly let go of you, and say up straighter.

He took a few minutes to get dressed, and when he finally got out of the tent you realized you had just fucked an engaged man. It had been perfect, but now it was messy. You wondered if this would even happen again.

But there was something in his eyes that told you it wasn’t the last time, and that this whole situation might be more complicated than you had originally thought. But you didn’t care. For now, he was yours, and that was all that mattered.

You were fucked, but it was too late to turn back now. You had gone over the line, and nothing was going to stop you from following him over. Not when he made you feel this good. And you knew it was only going to get better. It was time to face the facts, this wasn’t just a one shot thing with Ennis Del Mar, and nothing could ever change that.

If there was one thing you were sure of, it was that this was just the beginning, and that there aren’t any reins on this one. You were ready to take the leap and see where this journey would take you both.

You lay there in his arms, it was quiet and silent, you know he’s laying there, thinking about it, probably contemplating his life decisions, but you can’t blame him. This whole thing was a mess…

But you aren’t going to think about it right now, right now. You’re the one in his arms and frankly that’s where you feel the most comfortable.

You didn’t know what the future would being, but you were ready.

[shaniadsouza]

Titanium Threaded Pipe Fittings: Properties, Applications, and Benefits

Titanium threaded pipe fittings are essential components in industries that demand high strength, corrosion resistance, and lightweight materials. These fittings offer exceptional durability and performance, making them a preferred choice for various applications. This blog provides an in-depth understanding of titanium threaded pipe fittings, their properties, applications, and advantages.

What Are Titanium Threaded Pipe Fittings?

Titanium threaded pipe fittings are connectors used to join pipes through a threaded connection. They are manufactured from high-quality titanium, known for its superior mechanical properties and excellent resistance to corrosion, even in extreme environments.

Key Properties of Titanium Threaded Pipe Fittings

Corrosion Resistance – Titanium exhibits exceptional resistance to rust and corrosion, particularly in marine and chemical processing environments.

High Strength-to-Weight Ratio – These fittings provide superior strength while being lightweight, reducing the overall weight of piping systems.

Excellent Temperature Resistance – Titanium can withstand extreme temperatures, making it suitable for high-heat and cryogenic applications.

Long Service Life – Due to their durability, titanium fittings require minimal maintenance and have a longer lifespan compared to other materials.

Non-Magnetic and Biocompatible – Titanium is non-magnetic and safe for use in medical and aerospace applications.

Types of Titanium Threaded Pipe Fittings

Titanium threaded fittings come in various types, including:

Elbows – Used to change the direction of fluid flow.

Tees – Allow branching of pipelines.

Couplings – Connect two pipe sections together.

Unions – Provide easy disconnection and reconnection of pipes.

Bushings – Reduce the size of a pipe fitting.

Plugs and Caps – Seal pipe ends to prevent leakage.

Applications of Titanium Threaded Pipe Fittings

Titanium threaded pipe fittings are widely used in industries such as:

Aerospace Industry – Utilized in aircraft fuel systems and hydraulic lines.

Chemical Processing – Resistant to aggressive chemicals, making them ideal for handling corrosive substances.

Marine and Offshore Engineering – Used in seawater applications due to their exceptional resistance to saltwater corrosion.

Medical Equipment – Biocompatible properties make them suitable for medical implants and devices.

Oil and Gas Industry – Suitable for harsh environments with high pressure and temperature conditions.

Power Generation – Used in nuclear and thermal power plants for their high-temperature endurance.

Benefits of Using Titanium Threaded Pipe Fittings

Enhanced Durability – Longer lifespan compared to stainless steel or other alloys.

Cost-Effective in the Long Run – Though initial costs may be higher, lower maintenance and replacement costs make them economical.

Reduced Downtime – High resistance to wear and tear minimizes system failures and downtime.

Eco-Friendly – 100% recyclable, contributing to sustainability.

Conclusion

Titanium threaded pipe fittings are an excellent choice for industries that require superior corrosion resistance, strength, and durability. Their unique properties make them indispensable in demanding applications, ensuring reliability and long-term performance. Investing in titanium fittings enhances efficiency, reduces maintenance costs, and ensures a robust piping system for various industrial needs.

[shystrawberries]

Sewing With Sans

Evilise wasn’t a great people-person. She was bad at socializing, and she rarely hosted. So it was rather odd to her that her neighbour couldn’t seem to stay away. His house was separated from hers by a tall fence that desperately needed a repaint, and a rose bush that was only surviving because of his younger brother. She thought the fence did a grand job of separating the two households, but periodically the short man proved her wrong. 

This instance was one of those times. She had long since accepted his presence in her life (it had been four years of their easy, but surprising, friendship) so she wasn’t surprised when he just waltzed into her home without a word. She didn’t look up when the couch dipped with his weight, because she knew she had locked the door, and that he could use shortcuts with or without the locked door. 

The show that was playing on the t.v. was one she had seen a million times over, making it perfect to tune out as she slowly dragged the cloth through her sewing machine. She wasn’t a new sewer by any means, but she had never gained the confidence that others had. Then again, those people were behind a screen, perhaps everything they did was edited and false. 

She gently plucked the pin from the blanket just before it paused under the foot, and gently pressed her own foot into the pedal to move a tad faster again. 

A weight pressed against her bicep, but it did not restrict her or inhibit her ability to move as needed. Goodness knows she had to shift often to look at the illuminated fabric better or to ensure her limbs weren’t falling asleep. 

“Hi Sans.” She finally said, now that there weren’t five pins in her mouth. They sat on the magnetized box on her wrist instead. 

“heya ‘lise.” he sounded tired. When didn’t he?

“You come here to nap?”

“nah. came to watch mr. darcy, obviously.”

“No one can resist Mr. Darcy. Well, this version of him. I’ve seen an actor or two…” She shuddered and returned back to the world of keeping the fabric aligned. Promptly after a strange sound emitted from her machine and she let off the pedal with a sigh. 

“thread givin’ you an issue again?”

“What else would it be?” She asked as she pinned the fabric in place just to be sure it wouldn’t dislodge when she gently freed it from the machine. White and pink thread followed the blanket until the bottom thread refused to let go. 

“You’re right, as always.”

“when am i not?”

“Har har.” She snipped the thread and fetched her tweezers. The thread on the bottom was still sticking out, just barely. If she could reach it with her tweezers she wouldn’t have to rethread the bottom… 

The thread disappeared. 

“Sigh.” She said, because Papyrus had been rubbing off on her. She set the tweezers down instead of immediately rethreading the bottom. She could use a snack break. She stood, snorting as she saw Sans flop onto the couch without her there to hold him.

“pain. how could you leave me like this?” he muttered face down. “sad.”  

“I have ketchup?”

He popped up with a grin. “why didn’tchu say somethin’ sooner?” 

She rolled her eyes as she left the living room behind. He was already sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging his boots as she passed. This pair was her favorite, because when the circumstances were just right, the little paw prints on the bottom imprinted in the soft dirt or the snow. She had gotten a matching pair, in part due to Sans’ good natured bullying. 

The boots were funnier when Sans revealed to her that he had real toe beans, but that he didn’t like to get dirt stuck in his skeletal cat paws. She never asked how he had toe beans when he had no skin to have them with… she had never seen them, so perhaps he was just pulling her leg. 

She grabbed the magic infused ketchup first and tossed it behind her without more than a glance. There was a victorious, “yes!” when it was caught. 

For herself she grabbed her old leftovers. She kept forgetting they were there when she quickly got caught up in the shenanigans of her neighbours, who often had an overabundance of food it seemed. 

She joined Sans on the counter once her foot was heated up. As she ate, she matched Sans’ lethargic kicking pace. When he noticed, he switched up several times. She giggled and tried to not immediately choke when the food tried to go down the wrong pipe. He snickered and patted her back, but if it was supposed to help, it was almost detrimental instead it was so ineffective. 

When she had finished eating, she quickly rinsed her plate and fork off while Sans made himself comfortable on her couch. Once she had made to sit down, she realized he had turned half of the couch into a little nest with her blankets and pillows. 

“Comfy?” She asked. 

He shifted and hummed, “i dunno…”

Seeing that he looked genuinely uncomfortable, she stood and crossed the room to grab another blanket. This one was his favorite; she was surprised he had forgotten it. As she neared to throw it across his face, he grabbed her and pulled her into the nest, quick as lightning. Her shriek turned into a laugh. He squeezed her close, looking awfully happy with himself. 

She tossed the blanket over his face and laughed at his confused sputtering. 

“That’s what you get!” she crowed. 

He finally grabbed the blanket and flung it behind her with a fwoop, the top edge fisted in his little claws. He drew it around her shoulders and pulled her giggling form to his chest. 

He dragged the little bone that stuck out over his nasal hole over her brow and down the side of her face in a little nuzzle. 

“Hi.” She breathed. 

“hi.” 

She nuzzled his cheek in turn in her best impersonation of a skeleton nuzzle, and rested her head on his shoulder. “This makes it really difficult to sew, you know.”

Teeth pressed against her other eyebrow. “nah. you’re magic like that. betcha ya can sew even better from ‘ere.”

“Lies. All lies.” 

He chuckled quietly. “i’ll letcha up soon. just… missed ya.”

She considered the sewing machine and the lonely cat that held her in his bony arms. The sewing could wait, she decided, and she looped her arms around his ribcage the best she could. Her arms got stuck halfway, what with all the blankets, but that was alright. 

“I missed you too.” She admitted. 

[saintheartwing]

The Daily Show Website's Just Freaking GONE Now

Yeah. You know all those great bits like "Indecision 2008" when the gang goes outside to see what life is like AFTER George W. Bush? "Indecision 2012: Mercy Rule Edition"? The takedown of Rush Limbaugh's Sandra Fluke controversy? Their take on the News of the World phone hacking scandal and so many other bits? Gone. ALL gone. You can't find them anymore. You can't use the Wayback machine to watch either cuz it DOESN'T HAVE THE VIDEOS SAVED. So there's only ONE way to see those old episodes of the Daily Show with Jon Stewart... PIRACY.

This reddit thread, as of this writing, has a magnet torrent link. Punch it into your torrent client and download the episodes you want. It'll be difficult to find the sketches you want but this is the best we can do since Comedy Central effing NUKED the site, evidently.

This is just gross to me. People put years of hard work, sweat and tears into this and now it's just all gone.

And you can't go "Well just subscribe to Paramount Plus". PARAMOUNT PLUS DOESN'T HAVE ALL THE EPISODES UP. Furthermore doing this got rid of other shows Comedy Central had up like clips from Reno 911 or Mind of Mencia, etc, etc. Gone. Just...all gone. What a waste.

So yeah. You're gonna have to go on the high seas. I couldn't even find a place to STREAM old episodes. It'd be one thing if they were available for purchase online so I could buy and thus watch them, but they're NOT. No DVD box sets of the season. No season by season streaming on Amazon Prime or anything. Nothing at all but a couple of specials like Indecision 2004 on Amazon. That's it!

What a waste. What a waste.

[where-i-bitch-about-nashville]

made a great deal

found an Apex 210 ribbon mic, broken jangly ribbon and reeking of cigarette smoke for $40 a couple months ago….

It already had the inner wire mesh layers and any pop filtering fabric removed, and it was missing some screws and had the ribbon screws stripped by the previous owner.

Disassembled it all, washed it, and retensioned the ribbon the day i got it, and it worked but sounded a bit harsh in the highs; likely sounded as good as it ever had up to that point…

The gig bag for this mic smelled disgusting even after multiple washes with TSP substitute and various soap and detergent, so I let that go and replaced it with a padded wine bottle bag but it just isn’t padded enough. Not sure where to find a better padded bag or box that would stow the mic vertically!

Today i got replacement strain relief gland based spirals and they just happen to fit this body, so I added a Neutrik XLR connector and Star quad mic wire with braided shielding to that. Along with some foam and PVC card samples, i was able to deaden the gnarly body resonance that was making the harsh high frequency response. I cut the PVC card samples to make a front and rear rounded-E-shaped wall divider to slot between the magnets and the cup piece of metal that forms the bottom half of the mic. All told, I spent about $10 on the parts used here and wound up with a $50 ribbon mic that performs much better than if I had instantly gone off spending $100 on changing the ribbon thickness and output transformer. I still may give that a shot, but this is suddenly a lot closer to the sound of the AEA R84, whose neodymium magnet and (2”x5mm/2-micron thick) ribbon geometry these Chinese made long ribbons imitate. It is still less sensitive than an RCA type 74b mi-1036G strapped for 250-Ohm output; I believe this Apex output transformer was <200-Ohm impedance from the factory.

This cheap simple change works for any of the yoke-mounted made in China ribbon microphones that may need this, such as the Apex 210 or the improved version model 205, Nady RSM2, Alctron HRM-2, ShinyBox 23, t.Bone R500, SM MC-04, Cascade VinJet, ShinyBox 46, Nady RSM1, Golden Age Project R1 and others may have nearly the same motor and maybe some of the same shortcomings.

Here’s a good article on the subject: http://recordinghacks.com/2008/11/01/chinese-ribbon-microphone-designs/

A note on this PVC card sample stock I used, I have no real clue what I have. It came from a reuse place and they were a steel ring of samples of various colors of this stuff. It doesn’t really bend well and snaps after about 30°. The inside of this stuff is like a closed cell foam while the front and back look the same and form a more solid layer of plastic. Maybe sheets of this stuff were heat pressed from PVC. It’s 1.5-2mm thick and definitely wasn’t meant for this. You could use anything that will fit and stay and where you could fasten two halves with an overlap so that it stays put as a divider between the body and the ribbon motor. I used Ukraine 🇺🇦 colors with yellow on the front side :D

The strain relief was like a PG9 size iirc. Where the original pinch lock passthru strain relief had straight sides, the threads on the new strain relief grab and thread in juuust right, too! Much more like the AEA strain relief, to boot

Further mod ideas:

Replace the yoke with a shockmount like the GAP RSM

Unscrew the yoke flat piece from the piece that threads onto the mic stand and use a post style shockmount more like the one used in the RCA type 44 yoke

Or, replace the thumbscrew thread holes in the frame of the ribbon motor with a threaded insert shockmount bushing

stick some silicone damping instead of the foam

maybe improve sensitivity by using a higher turns ratio transformer

could sew more padding in to the bottle bag

high impedance input circuit or mic pre to pair with these types of things (i already have lots of 150-2200-Ohm inputs, some of which can change)

add a Crown Royal type cloth velvety bag both to pad the mic in the wine bottle bag AND to make the ideal 360° pop filter! They can even be stuffed with some foam and fitted with some fur on the outside to resist wind buffeting, it’s really great for that because it can enclose and keep wind off of the bottom and yoke of the mic as well, even if it is no Rycote zeppelin and dead cat. they even sell some raincoats for the dead cats that don’t make noise as they are hit by raindrops! i just don’t usually do it in the rain

[masteri-0]

Wing preening and pampering! Searched thru the tags just to find this thread again, phew.

Shen Qingqiu probably has his disciples preening his wings as well right? Can't imagine his little sheep of a disciple (and all the other ducklings) not jumping at the chance to assist (then again, if there already is a competition among the peak lords for it... Good luck kids)

Mu Qingfang likely gets his time to shine whenever his trouble magnet of a shixiong goes down the mountain and encounters some plant or other that just blasts him with pollens of the sorts. I'd imagine powdery stuff wld be a bitch to get out of feathers, and since the pollen may have various effects, it's really only right to let a medical professional handle the cleaning! And if Mu Qingfang takes juuuust a little longer to make sure everything is taken care of, beyond the pollen and such, well, that's between him and his tools.

Also! Is there a beast peak lord? (I'm honestly inclined to say no, because there's just no fucking way it wouldn't have come up in Shen Yuan's narration in canon, but we'll ignore that cos it's more fun that way) You can't tell me the peak lord of literal beasts wouldn't be an absolute expert at wing care AND get along spectacularly with Shen Qingqiu 2.0, beast nerd extraordinaire™

Actually no, scratch that, they'd get along like a house on fire. Not in the sense that they hate each other, but that they're each other's worst enablers. I don't even have a name for this peak lord (maybe Wan Qingshou?) but the ideas are flowing. They'd be doing the most batshit insane things (to others, they find it perfectly reasonable, it's for science!) like observing a Winged Python Leopard mother with her cubs (they're dangerous even to golden core cultivators, and their aggression spikes when it concerns their kids, like bears) to document their behaviors, bringing back orphaned baby beasts (YQY spent a while trying to convince them to return the more dangerous ones to their natural habitats, it was painful for all involved), and at one point they disappeared off their peaks for a month and a half before someone spotted them hunched in the bushes jotting down notes. Multiple interventions have been held. None have been effective. Disney Princess™ Shen Qingqiuyuan argues that there was never any danger and they know what they're doing. (Liu Qingge found Shen Qingqiu squashed beneath a Three-headed Spotted Lion and feared for the worst. Shen Qingqiu was just appreciating the fluffy weighted blanket that decided he was good enough to cuddle with)

At some point a peak lord, Wei Qingwei probably, sits their asses down and gives them a safety lecture normally reserved for disciples going on their first nighthunt. Does it work? Nope. Is this idea even realistic? Probably not. No idea how I got so far derailed from preening to here. Lol. What are the disciples doing in the meantime? Crying about their Shizun's disappearance, but also, gushing over all the new detailed beastiaries. Really, he's contributing to the world! Okay I'll stop here. I need to stop. Holy.

ahhh i'm glad you like it!! and you're SPOT ON with the pampering and carrying the other peak lords do<3 whether he's in his small bird form or his big human form with large wings, doesn't matter, he's getting picked up!! (i love liu qingge playing taxi chauffeur and realizing with horror that he likes holding shen qingqiu in his arms a little too much🤭)

so so so, i was just thinking about preening, if this is a canon compliant au, and shen yuan got dropped off in another's body, he probably has no idea how to take care of his bird features, let alone his wings, like how to align the feathers, removing molted ones, dust bathing to remove excess and stale lipids so his plumage stays fluffy, or taking care of pin feathers (new pin feathers have a blood supply flowing through it, if the pin is damaged, it can bleed pretty heavily!), so he just... doesn't. no more than clumsily washing them when he bathes, anyway. and then his wings start itching, and hurting, and the feathers are all askew, and he has all these tattered clumps and pins that hurt when he picks at it and what is he supposed to do...???

naturally, people notice when the prim proper scholar's peak lord, with the perfect hair and flawless skin, has two disheveled wings trailing after him. some of them are worried it might be some sign of self-neglect (also bc it's specifically his demon features that look uncared for), and of course when shen qingqiu coughs once so to speak, yue qingyuan shows up at his doorstep; and i was thinkingggg..... different peak lords taking turns coming to his bamboo house for some casual wing care and preening..... in some bird species preening each other strengthens the trust and bond between the two, for crows it's even a big aspect of social bonding! crows preen their young, their mates, and sick or injured birds, so it's only nature that a ill-feeling shen qingqiu relies on his companions to help him when he's incapable himself...

also because i can't stop imagining shen qingqiu sprawled out across liu qingge or yue qingyuan's lap in bliss while they very carefully align his feathers and tease out molted ones, maybe freeing some matured pin feathers, feeling akin to having his hair brushed and played with while they take care of hard to reach places (thinking about how allopreening birds in nature often have less ticks/healthier plumage bc other birds reach places they can't, but shen jiu probably wouldn't let anyone touch his wings so some parts of them were always a little... messy).

some birds (like parrots) might even overpreen when exposed to strong scents, so all the peak lords quickly learn not to put on too much or heavy perfume because it makes shen qingqiu rub and dig into his wings until feathers fall out

(and i haven't even mentioned the sheer angst potential of stress plucking, but ahh this ask is already so long!!!)

OOOOH MY GOD!!! That's such a wholesome idea. I can already imagine it - and it's always a fight of who gets to preen Shen Qingqiu's wings, to the point where it actually turns into a fight (thanks to Liu Qingge) and it's almost an all-out brawl until Mu Qingfang (the only reasonable peak lord jhebus) makes everyone draw lots to see who gets to do it (- and then cheats because everyone else is so hyped up from the brawl, and his dear shixiong simply cannot deal with such stress!!). It becomes a natural thing to come up with different ways of deciding (unless Shen Qingqiu asks one, then the others just have to choke on vinegar(kiiiidding sort of)), and the peak lord who got to do it last time is not allowed to participate in the next game because that's unfair! Spitballing about how different peak lords go about offering it at first, if I may!! I think that Qi Qingqi would be actually quite gentle about it - she's used to helping out the girls with their hair and other things (shark week 😔😔), so she knows how to go about being like, "hey, I know we don't always get along but I'm going to help you out with your wings, 'kay?" and he is immediately just like "jesus christ please save me from this torment pleasepleaseplease" - kidding, kidding, he'd be much more hesitant about it because he knows that his wings are delicate and he needs to place his trust in whoever's touching them. Qi Qingqi has been...hostile towards him (because of Shen Jiu, so he can't be too offended), and this could be a moment of weakness (- jesus, bestie boo, I'm making him sound like Shen Jiu) but...his wings hurt :[ At first it's awkward, but then Shen Qingqiu relaxes and it does NOT become a gossip session (it should and it does, you can take that from my cold dead hands). Of course, Yue Qingyuan is the first to offer at all, being all like "xiao-Jiu plleeeaaasseeee 🥺" and who is Shen Qingqiu to resist those puppy dog eyes? He seems to have a history with Shen Jiu so it wouldn't be suspicious of him to deign to allow Yue Qingyuan to help out. Of course, Shen Jiu used to let Yue Qingyuan preen his wings on the streets (if we're going that route), so he's skilled and immediately makes Shen Qingqiu feel comfortable as he feels the itchy feeling in his wings FINALLY disappear with every movement the other man makes. Of course, he should be analysing so he can learn to do it himself but...he's so comfy :( When Liu Qingge first does it, it's on a mission! GASP!! Yue Qingyuan sent them on a mission together because it was a matter of both brute force that needed some form of plan involved that wasn't just "grab smash kill" (and mayyybe he wanted his shidi to bond, who cares? Shen Qingqiu has been a lot less hostile recently, and he's going to take advantage). So, they're out on this mission, and it's a LOT fucking harder than they first thought, leaving them waylaid in the forests (stereotypical I know but screw you (/j)). Shen Yuan's (for brevity's sake) wings are slowly getting worse and he's so very uncomfortable but he can't reach the worse bits so he forces himself to abandon his pride for a second and begrudgingly ask Liu Qingge for help! Obviously, Liu Qingge has no clue what he's doing and has to be guided by Shen Yuan (Liu Qingge later claims to not at all be nervous, but his hands were shaking because he didn't mind this new Shen Qingqiu and didn't reaally want to hurt him). The next time Shen Yuan needs his wings preening, Liu Qingge (literally) kicks the door down to offer to do it. He may seem overly aggressive when he manhandles the peak lord, but he's really quite gentle. I do want to yap about the other peak lords, but this answer's really long already!!! If you want me to, please let me know, because I severely want to expose myself as a Mu Qingfang and Wei Qingwei fan and PLEASE tell me more about the angst potential pretty please, I'll be like Yue Qingyuan at your door with puppy dog eyes. I'm INVESTED NOW, GOD.

[mpcomagnetics]

Magnetic Bushing Assembly and Magnetic Recess Former

Magnetic Bushing Assembly and Magnetic Recess Former

Magnetic Bushing Assembly and Magnetic Recess Former This magnetic bushing assembly is composed of Neodymium Magnet, steel casing and thread rod. The use of magnetic bushing is quite simple.Set bushing magnet on the steel panel formwork and place PVC pipe on the bushing magnet. then add concrete around the pipe.The contact surface should be clean and flat otherwise will reduce its actual magnetic…

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Can I request a Isaac Lahey x Merman!Male Reader? Where the reader has a crush on Isaac but never had the courage to even talk to him, until one night in the woods Isaac finds the reader in a lake swimming and singing the most beautiful song he's ever heard.

The little mermaid is looking a bit different

Pairing : Isaac Lahley x male reader Tags: getting together, fluff, mutual Pinning, Word count: 767 Edited : 30/09/24 Authors note: Sorry for the long wait, thanks for the request. Also did I use a song from the Witcher 3 soundtrack?, yes I did it slaps okay. It's called lullaby of woe

You’d think that after living in Beacon Hills for so long, Isaac would have learned to stay out of trouble, especially during the witching hour. But here he was again, wandering through the dense shadows of the Preserve, the moon casting silver light across the tangled underbrush. Sleep had been elusive, clawing at his insides like a restless spirit. There was something irresistible, something profound, calling him deeper into the heart of the woods, a magnetic pull he couldn’t ignore.

As he pushed past the gnarled branches and thick ferns, the further he walked, the stronger the feeling became. It felt like the woods themselves were watching him, whispering secrets through the wind. Each step brought him closer to a hidden realm, a place he'd never ventured to before, shrouded in mystery and veiled from the prying eyes of the world.

Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, his breath hitching in his throat. A voice, pure and ethereal, drifted through the air like the sweetest melody, wrapped in the cool night breeze. It was a song he had never encountered before, an enchanting lullaby that curled around him, tugging at the edges of his consciousness. He found himself captivated, as if spellbound, losing himself in the haunting beauty of the notes.

"Wolves asleep amidst the trees, bats all are swaying in the breeze," the voice sang softly, weaving through the leaves like a silken thread.

Isaac felt his heart race with every line, compelled to follow the voice deeper into the thicket. As he neared the source, he stumbled upon a secluded lake, its surface shimmering like glass under the light of the moon. Peering through the dense foliage, he held his breath, wanting to catch just one more note of this haunting song.

"But one soul lies anxious, wide awake…" The voice continued, rich and vulnerable.

His heart pounded in rhythm with the music as he caught sight of the singer. A boy—his silhouette framed by the gentle glow of the moonlight—sat on the shore, fingers trailing languidly through the water, a picture of serenity.

“Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags, and wraiths,” the boy continued, oblivious to Isaac’s presence, “your dolly Polly sleep has flown.”

The instinct to retreat tugged at Isaac the moment he noticed the boy starting to rise. He leaned back, yet his gaze remained fixed, unable to tear himself away as the stranger began to undress, the water glistening around him like stars fallen to earth. Isaac’s cheeks flushed, caught between respect and an undeniable fascination.

“Don’t let her tremble alone,” the boy’s voice rose, melodic and haunting. “For he, heartless and cold, paid the coin of gold…”

Isaac watched in awe as the boy dove into the lake, calmness radiating from him like the moon’s light upon the water. As the stranger glided beneath the surface, he glimpsed something unexpected—a magnificent tail shimmering beneath the water’s surface, a breath of vibrant hues that danced in the light.

Isaac stepped back, his foot landing on a dry branch with a telltale snap. Instantly, the boy’s head whipped around, the spell broken.

"Who's there?" he called, his voice cutting through the silence, a mixture of curiosity and caution. “I know someone’s there. Show yourself!”

Cursing his own clumsiness, Isaac stepped out from behind the bush, hands raised in mock surrender. "It’s me! I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to find you here,” he stuttered, his heart racing as the boy fumbled to cover himself.

“A little late for apologies, don’t you think?” the boy replied, a teasing lilt in his voice, although his cheeks were tinged with embarrassment.

“I was just… following this weird feeling,” Isaac admitted, fumbling with his words. “Then I heard your singing, and it—well, it pulled me here.”

“You heard my song?” The boy’s eyes widened, a spark of surprise illuminating his features.

“Yeah,” Isaac replied, walking closer, emboldened by the spark of connection. “It was really beautiful.”

The boy ducked his head, a shyness taking over. “Thanks,” he murmured, clearly flattered.

Isaac grinned, feeling braver now. “So… you have a tail. That’s pretty cool.”

The boy snorted, a laugh slipping through his lips that made Isaac’s heart flutter. “Yeah, well, what can I say? It's a family thing.”

“Are you a—” he hesitated, weighing his words carefully. “A sir-?”

“A merman,” the boy corrected playfully. “Wait—were you going to say siren?”

“Maybe?” Isaac admitted, a sheepish smile creeping across his face. “Can you blame me? You were singing such pretty songs that led me here. It felt a bit… siren-like.”

The boy's grin widened, and he swam closer, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You do know what sirens do to the poor souls they lure to them, right?”

“Yeah, they drown them,” Isaac replied, a grin of his own forming.

“Yep,” the boy said, amusement dancing in his gaze. 

“I suddenly don’t feel safe.”Isaac laughed, feeling the tension ease as the boy’s laughter mingled with the night air. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” The merman slid closer, extending his hand.

Isaac grabbed it, warmth flooding his chest. “I know… I’m Isaac. I’m, uh—also a werewolf, by the way.”

“Yeah, I figured. You guys don’t hide it well,” Y/N teased, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you’d be surprised how loud we can get about supernatural business,” Isaac chuckled.

Y/N glanced up at the moon, now draped in a veil of clouds. “I have to get going.”

Isaac caught the hint and turned his back as Y/N began to change, the sound of water splashing becoming a rhythm in the night. “Hey, listen, I know this might sound weird, but do you want to hang out with me after classes tomorrow?”

“Sure, I’d love to,” Y/N replied, a reluctant grin playing at the corners of his lips.

“Cool, I’ll see you later,” Isaac said, allowing a smile to break over his face as he began to walk away.

“Bye!” Y/N called, his voice echoing over the water as Isaac disappeared back down the path, already anticipating the connection that had just begun to bloom.

[asce-of-hearts]

Day 15: Sugar Daddy/ Chrollo Lucilfer

contents: Yan!Chrollo x gn!reader

Event M.List

warnings: NON-CON, LOSS OF VIRGINITY, MEAN CHROLLO, BRAT TAMING???, SLIGHT DUMBIFICATION, DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH, ‘FUCK OR DIE’ SORT OF SITUATION, FORCED RELATIONSHIP, IMPLIED KIDNAPPING AT THE END, NSFW, USAGE OF THE NAME ‘DADDY’ ONCE OR TWICE.

There’s nothing Chrollo loves more than a brat. A stupid, rich and angry brat that he can use and dispose after he got what he wanted. 

He was rich after all, being a famous criminal got his benefits. Money and bitches were attracted towards you as if you were a magnet. When he met you at that gala he felt that familiar tingle in his gut, the one that told him “this is another victim”. He smiled to himself, approaching you in your fancy gown. You arched a brow when he kissed your knuckle introducing himself.

“Where are you from?” he asked as an attempt to make small talk “none of your business” you responded quickly and sharply, and he could notice the nerves running down your body. You were too obvious for your own good, and he found that adorable “you’re here to steal, aren’t you?” you almost choked on your own drink, pressing a small blade against his throat. Making sure nobody saw you at the back of a bush “I’ll fucking kill you” you hissed, making him chuckle even more “darling please, you wouldn’t hurt a fly with that thing” he got the blade of your hands quickly, not caring at your embarrassed and angry features.

There was something about you that he liked more than any other brats, something that made him want to keep you around, maybe it was the fact that you were kind of like him.

“I’ll help you steal whatever you want, I’m here for the same reason” your eyes twinkled at this, mouth slightly agape as he pressed a finger to your lips “but… you’ll have to do me a little favor after” he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, making you flustered instantly. “I- I’m not a whore, jackass” you growled before following him back to the fancy party “I never said you were one” his response was quick and smart, like every word he gave “but I guess I could call you my whore now, dearest” he chuckled to himself. “Now about that thing you wanted to steal, where is it?” he inquired, before you talked about your objective for the night.

His ability to steal and take from others was surprising, amazing when you saw it for the first time. The jewel he gave you was much more precious up close, but before you could take it he snatched it away from you.

“I told you you’d have to pay me for it” he grinned, making you growl again. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, and then another one to his lips. Separating quickly and trying to take the gem from his hands once again, he gave you a confused look “you think that is enough?” he arched a brow, now seeming angry despite his playful tone. He sighed, tackling you to the ground and pinning you under him. “Get off me!” you screamed, before he placed a hand on your mouth muffling your cries and pleads for help. “You fucking brat, thinking you can get anything for free” he ripped your fancy gown appart, surprised by how easily the cheap fabric gave in to his fingers. He pressed his clothed cock against your now uncovered crotch, making you buck your hips forward involuntarily. When he invaded your entrance with his length your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, letting out a pained moan as you felt something dripping down your legs, a fine thread of red covering the tip of his cock “oh, you’re a virgin” he said surprised, cleaning the tears that streamed down your face with his thumb. He took one of your gloves off, shoving it in your mouth as a gag to prevent you from screaming “guess it's the first time I steal someone's virginity” his laugh was cruel and loud, making you cry even harder as he pounded into you. He groaned a little when you squeezed his length hard, as if you were trying to push him out.

“This is what I was referring to with payment, dear” he spoke, grabbing your jaw roughly and making you look at him in the eye “get used to it quickly, because this is not the last time you’ll see me” his face was serious, making you tremble as you felt a knot in your stomach tense, you squirmed under him, but he placed your dagger to your throat “You’re in debt, right? That’s why such a dumb and pretty brat is here in the first place to try and steal something” his teeth clenched, sucking air through them as if the was trying to last longer “I can help you with that, no wait, I will help you with that… like, what do you call it? Ah yes, a ‘sugar daddy’ how does that sound?” he gave you a toothy smile, as you felt yourself come undone on his hard length, he cackled, making your eyes closed as you cried in frustration “Sounds like a yes to me! Congratulations honey, you just found a new daddy” he thrusted harshly into you while he said each word, cumming finally inside you.

When he finished your hole was dripping with his cum, you could hear a door open and a person gasping in shock, before your dagger was thrown directly into their skull, a loud splashing sound was made and their body fell to the floor. You felt like you were about to puke, looking into Chrollo’s dark eyes as they locked with yours.

“Now unless you want to be the next dead body, I suggest you come with me without complaining, baby”

hope you enjoyed this!!!

have a great day/night.

[nxrthmizu]

kill em’ with kindness

fandom | miraculous ladybug 

genre | lila salt, so much salt 

summary | marinette takes the high road to a better life. 

w.c | 8.1k 

author’s note | had this idea for a few days after i wrote victory tastes bitter, which really blew up on ao3 (thanks for all the support <3). always wondered what it would be like if marinette just. played nice. so here she is, being an absolute badass. 

author’s note.2 | okay so since i did not write this in one sitting, i get that the story probably doesn’t flow as properly as it should. will edit if i ever find the will to do it. 

Marinette was done. They wanted her to be a model student? Fine. They wanted her to stop being mean? Fine. They wanted her to be friends with Lila? Fine.

Luckily for Hawkmoth, no akuma plagued the sky of the previous night, or she would rain hell on him. There was no more tolerance left inside her to spare, and she certainly wouldn’t go out of her way to make some for the manipulative pest problem Paris has had for way too long.

She looked up into the mirror, having exchanged her pigtails for a low ponytail, strands curled to frame her face. Bluebell eyes glistened with a fire that burned brighter than hope— Hope that her ‘friends’ would see sense. Hope that Adrien would be there for her. Hope that the good guy would always get the happy ending. No more being patient, no more being passive, no more putting up with things she didn’t have to.

If Lila Rossi wanted a battle, then fine, a battle she would get. Marinette was lowering her white flag, replacing it with a battle emblem that scorched red, redder than blood and redder than the anger her friends would feel when she was finished. No more peace negotiations. Rossi wanted a fight, Rossi wanted a challenge. Who was Marinette to deny her from what she wanted?

They didn’t know what was coming for them.

The power of makeup was truly one that reigned apex among the world. A few touches of her makeup brush was all it took to erase her dark eyes from existence, give her skin a more radiant glow (She promised that she’d take time to give it a natural glow after she was done being nice), and ease a cherry-pink blush onto her cheeks, making her freckles stand out more in contrast. Marinette Dupain-Cheng meant business, and when she meant business—

“Good morning, Marinette! You look great today!” The head of the student council, a sensible, down-to-Earth blonde by the name of Noelle smiled, speeding up slightly to catch the bluenette on the steps of Francois Dupont. “Love the new look.”

Ah yes. The new look— A royal blue blazer, detailed with golden embroidery of cherry blossoms bursting at the sleeves and the collar, accompanied by a classy-looking silk blouse tapered with a soft, black felt. The pleated black skirt (Made from heavy cloth so that it wouldn’t flap about in the wind) was lined with a beautiful scarlet at all the edges to complete the look. Knee-high black socks trailed all the way into the slight heels that Marinette had added flower adornments on, just so she could tap a little of her own touch on it.

“Thank you,” Responded the bluenette with a smile.

“Woah! Someone looks like they got a good night of rest.” Madeline, the president of the Art Club teased, flocking to the other side of the girl. “That mascara looks sharp enough to kill, girl!”

Sharp enough to kill?

Oh, that wouldn’t be necessary, Marinette mused to herself, sending out thanks to those who had complimented her on her way to class. Nothing sharp was going to be required for the liar’s downfall— No, no. That would just be too messy, and she wouldn’t even think of staining her new outfit. Of course, the ensemble was crafted from her own hands, as stated by the classic MDC that graced the inside of her blazer, the collar of her blouse, and one of the pleats of her skirt. Besides… Lila wasn’t worth getting her hands dirty.

She was going to do things the right way.

The kind way.

“Good morning, everyone.” She greeted, walking into the classroom, garnering their attention with her punctuality. Every set of eyes in the room were attracted to her, like iron fillings to magnets. Some of the gazes were malicious, hateful; Some were doubtful, wary; One was pleading, as if spelling out ‘Please keep taking the high road!’— And then there was Chloe, who was entirely uninterested.

Good, Lila was already present.

“I’d just like to take a minute of your time. Won’t be too long, I promise.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the imploring gaze that dug at her side, courtesy of a blonde that sat in the front row (And no, it wasn’t Chloe she was referring to). “I’d just like to say…”

The class watched with bated breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Alya blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Stunned faces greeted Marinette’s apologetic one, including Lila’s— She didn’t even have to fake her reaction. What on Earth was Marinette trying to pull off? What kind of stunt was this?

“I realise that I’ve not really been the best version of me lately,” She admitted sorrowfully. I haven’t been the best version of me because I was being boycotted and isolated, “It wasn’t fair to put you all through this,” It wasn’t fair that you idiots had to lose all your reputations because of the words of one liar, “And people got hurt as a consequence,” Me. I was the one who got hurt. “I realise that things haven’t been all smooth-sailing in our class lately, so I’d like to apologise to everyone.” I’d like to apologise for not being able to save you from a liar who only sees her own personal gain.

A practiced breath escaped Marinette’s throat as she waited for her cue— The school bell— And set her bag on the teacher’s desk. Good, everything was unfolding right on time. Not quite far away, there was a distinct clack-clack-clack of someone’s heels— An auburn teacher, perhaps? Marinette reached into her backpack and drew out a package she had meticulously wrapped in brown paper and tied in golden ribbon. Sitting passively on top of the package was a small note, decorated in hand-drawn flowers and a hummingbird in the corner.

“Here,” Marinette strode up the steps of the class, stopping right in front of her former seat— Now Lila’s— Internally taking pleasure in the first time she’d seen the Italian’s true expression. “For you, as a token of my apology. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me,” Marinette swallowed painfully, biting her lip, as if she was trying not to cry, “But I just want to make things right.”

Lila blinked.

What the hell was happening?

The silence was broken by a quiet sob, one that did not originate from Marinette. Instead, Mlle. Caline Bustier stood in the doorway of the class, clutching her books and notes for the day’s lesson, wiping away a tear that dropped from her eye. “Oh, Marinette,” The teacher sobbed, “I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Marinette.” Rose sniffed, wiping away a few tears of her own that had started dripping during the bluenette’s speech. Juleka patted her girlfriend’s back, trying to calm the emotional blonde before she cried out a tsunami on top of her textbooks, giving Marinette a thumbs up to show her approval.

Alya beamed, seemingly proud of her former best friend, who had (In her opinion) finally started to see sense. “I’m so proud of you, girl!”

(Adrien was too shocked to form any words.)

“Could you… Open it?” Marinette asked hopefully, ignoring the teacher for the favour of the liar who ruined her life. “I… Just want to know if you like it.”

The Italian could do nothing more than grit her teeth when Alya urged her to open it. What kind of trick was Mari-Brat up to? Never mind— She’d just spin it into something stupid and the class would take to it like starved animals. With no other choice, she tore apart the brown paper, discarding the golden ribbon on her desk. The class gasped, oohs and aahs echoing all around as the package unfolded to reveal a pretty, beige-coloured cardigan, hand-stitched with murals of foxes, jumping livelily among berry bushes.

Stitched into the inside of the cardigan in pastel blue were the words ‘Lila Rossi’, done in an exquisite cursive that could no doubt only come from Marinette’s hand.

“I made it for you myself,” Marinette sniffed humbly. “I know you’re a really great model and you’ve probably seen clothes that are much better than this one, but I poured all my feelings into it. I spent every night of last week working on it, and—” She hiccuped rather loudly, instantly covering her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. “I just hope you like it.”

“I…” Lila was at a loss for words. She had an itinerary full of the lies and stories she would spin that day (“Marinette texted me mean things last night,” she would weep tearfully to Alya, sniffing and wiping away tears on Alya’s shirt sleeve, “I just want to be friends but she just keeps… Attacking me!”) but no matter. A smirk danced along the Italian’s lips. “Did you design this yourself?” 

Judging by the smirk that Marinette could practically hear in the other girl’s tone, the liar already had a trick up her sleeve. If Marinette had to guess... 

Something along the lines of she stole this design from [random designer], who just coincidentally had the time to be Lila’s friend. Or maybe the friend of Lila’s grandmother. Whichever didn’t matter much, because Marinette was prepared. 

Marinette crossed the room in mere seconds, returning back to Lila’s seat with a sketchbook that she’d pulled from her bag. “Here!” She chirped, flipping open the page with an exercised movement, not even having to shuffle through the pages to find the correct sketch. “I brought the original sketch, just in case you wanted to see it so you could get a professional to redo it for you.” 

Lila opened and closed her mouth like a gaping fish out of water. Beside her, Alya’s eyes sparkled, envy still glowing in her eyes at the sight of the intricate foxes, coloured in hazel, gold, and orange threads. 

“Thank you, Marinette.” Lila gritted through her teeth, basically seething at the thought of having to thank the girl in front of her, who was smiling like an innocent sunshine child. 

The bluenette then turned her attention to her homeroom teacher. “Sorry for interrupting and taking up class time, Mlle. Bustier.” 

“It’s not a problem, Marinette,” Mlle. Bustier wiped at her eyes, slightly embarrassed now that the whole class was watching her cry at the sight of her ‘model student’ correcting her wrongs. “E— Excuse me.” She mumbled, clearing her throat. “Let’s pick off from where we stopped yesterday. Open your textbooks to page 63, please.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The rest of the day went along smoothly. Marinette sat at the back of class, as usual, sighing in boredom as class was derailed off course, whisked off by another one of Lila’s tall tales. Honestly, they were already weeks off schedule— How the hell were they expected to sit for the final exam, at this rate? 

She huffed quietly to herself, watching Bustier trying (and failing) to act like she wasn’t interested in Lila’s story. The woman— An actual adult— Fell for Lila’s usual tricks like a fool, taking in every single word in drunken thirst. Did Mlle. Bustier really have nothing better to do than get absorbed in a teenage girl’s wild fantasies (in a way it was like that). At that thought, Marinette sat up straighter in her chair, an idea going off like a lightbulb above her brain. 

Was it...? 

After further thought, Marinette settled back into her chair, humming thoughtfully as she drummed her fingers against her table quietly. Yes... Yes, perhaps. 

Perhaps it was possible. 

The rest of the lesson passed in wasted time as the class took a major detour to go on a warped journey through Lila’s lies, and before Bustier knew it, the lunch bell had rung. Students chattered animatedly as everyone got up, Mlle. Bustier’s announcement of ‘please go home and study this chapter by yourselves, everyone’ was pathetically drowned out by the rest of the noise. 

Marinette collected her things quickly, needing her exit from the classroom to go off without a hitch, exactly the way she planned it. “I’ve got to go back to my parents’ bakery for lunch,” She said shyly, shrinking into herself as her classmates turned to look at her. “I... Was thinking of bringing some macarons back later. Before I go, though... Lila, is there anything you’re allergic to?” 

“What?” The girl being asked snapped back as a reply, the words leaving her mouth too fast for her to register. Before she knew it, the whole class was staring at her, mouths agape. “I... I mean.” Clearing her throat, the liar plastered on a sweet smile. “What was it, Marinette?” 

“I wanted to bring some macarons back for everyone.” Shyly, the bluenette repeated her plans. “And... Since I’ve been in class with everyone else here for a while, I know their allergies, but not yours. Is there anything you’re allergic to that could be in baked goods?” 

The Italian cursed under her breath— Mari-Brat really wasn’t letting up. The bluenette had made sure to cover any ground that the Italian could use and turn back against her. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not allergic to anything.” 

Brightening visibly, Marinette nodded, shooting the Italian a smile. “I know things between us aren’t going to get better immediately, but I promise to do my best in fixing things! See you guys after lunch.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila was getting really, really fed up. For the whole morning, she wasn’t able to come up with any reason to blame Marinette. If things kept going at the rate that they were, the class would be fully convinced that the bluenette was a changed woman, and that couldn’t happen. There was, in the end, a downside to having such a gullible bunch of classmates— Sure, they swayed easily to her side, but that meant that they swayed back to Marinette’s just as easily. 

Hissing under her breath, Lila looked up to catch Alya and Nino’s concerned looks. 

No. 

She was Lila Rossi. She was resourceful. She had Gabriel Agreste behind her back. She was powerful. She was not going to let Mari-Brat halt her plans in their tracks ever again. 

“I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick,” She said, excusing herself from the lunch table. Perfect! Now all she had to do was come back in tears, saying that Marinette confronted and mocked her in the bathroom, and the class would be all hers, once again. 

Little did she know that Dupain-Cheng was one teensy step ahead. 

As soon as Lila rounded the corner of the cafeteria, Marinette appeared, having just had a lovely chat with Rose (And Juleka, although it was Rose who did most of the talking). The two were at the front steps of Francois Dupont, having a lovely couple moment that Marinette hated to interrupt— But she needed to have at least a word with them. 

“Rose, Juleka!” Marinette greeted, box of macarons held carefully in her arms, as if it were a box of important jewelry instead of just a box of pastries. “Oh— Rose, is that a new watch? I’ve never seen you wear it before!” 

“Yep, it is!” Rose beamed, delighted that someone (Besides Juleka) had finally noticed it. “Isn’t it pretty?” Indeed it was. The watch in question was a pretty, intricate-looking thing done in rose-gold metal, with a pastel pink leather strap holding it down. The background of the watch face was a white background with a thin film of rose-gold metal, cut to resemble a wall of precious rose vines. 

“It is!” Agreeing wholeheartedly, Marinette offered her classmate a smile. “Oh by the way, what time is it?” 

Rose peered at the watchface, returning the answer with an equally-bright smile. “11.47.” 

“Thank you.” Marinette thanked, continuing her way through the school until she reached the cafeteria. Just before she fell into line of sight, though, she hid behind a wall, peering over the corner until she spotted the table she was looking for. 

Perfect— Lila just walked away. Marinette thanked the gods for all the luck that she was having— Okay, maybe she thanked one god in particular more than the others. Gently, she patted the secret pocket that was sewn into the lining of her blazer— Tikki, who had magic powers, managed to create a miniature ‘room’ inside the secret pocket, with the pocket itself acting as a portal of sorts to the room. After a few seconds, she felt the pocket tap back, managing a small smile of gratitude for her kwami’s constant love and support. 

“Hey, Alya, Nino.” Marinette greeted shyly, box of macarons propped up against her hip. “Where’s... Lila?” She hesitated slightly with her question, acting as if it was a little out-of-place to ask about the Italian girl. 

“She went to the bathroom.” Nino provided, mouth still full of unchewed food. This gifted him with a smack from his girlfriend (“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” she scolded,). 

“Oh, I see.” I definitely see. I know what she’s going to try and pull later— I have to time this properly. Timing is everything. 

Marinette continued to make small talk with the two, whom she had not talked to for a very long time. Much to her surprise, they were very warm and accepting, quite unlike the people who slung slurs and accused her baselessly a few days ago. One morning made all the difference to people who believed anything, she supposed. 

All of a sudden, something in her chest buzzed, as if it were a fire alarm, vibrating in warning— She had to go. “It was nice talking to you guys again.” She admitted, having briefly dipped into a pool of what their friendship used to be like. “But I have to go. I promised Kagami I’d meet her for a few minutes before lunch ended.”

Alya’s eyebrows jumped up comically in surprise. “I didn’t know you still talked to her. I thought you two were… Love rivals.”

“So what if we were love rivals?” Marinette shrugged with a simple smile. “Adrien is… As much as it’s odd to admit, he’s just a boy. Neither of us let him get in between us. He’s just a boy, and it’d be stupid for us to not get along just because we like the same boy. It doesn’t bother Kagami that we used to like the same boy, so why should I let it bother me? Besides,” Marinette tilted her head slightly. “It’d be stupid to give up a great friendship just because of a boy.”

With her last words still hanging in the air, Marinette turned tail and left, walking faster than usual. She had little time left— As she neared the wall that would shield her from the view of the cafeteria, she sped up her footsteps, practically half-sprinting just so she could get out of sight before Lila Rossi returned, looking like someone just killed a puppy in front of her very eyes.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Alya jumped to her feet instantly, reaching out to comfort her best friend, who was moments away from having tears stream down her cheeks.

“I… I thought she’d changed.” Lila sniffled, biting her lip to appear as if she was desperately trying not to cry.

Alya frowned. “Who?”

“Marinette.” Lila stated as if it were obvious, faltering for a moment— Why had Alya bothered to ask? Shouldn’t it come pretty obvious? The liar dismissed the thoughts and continued in her performance. “She threatened me in the bathroom. She… She confronted me and mocked me, saying… Saying that all of you… All of you are idiots for believing that she’s changed. She… She said everything was an act to turn you all against me.”

Nino’s jaw dropped so far that it touched the floor. “Uh… Dudette, are you sure it was Marinette?”

“Yes!” Lila spun to look at him so fast that it was a wonder she didn’t break her neck. “Are… Are you doubting me? Oh my god, it’s working. She’s turning you guys against me. I just want to have friends, I don’t get why she hates me so—”

“You’re… Absolutely sure it was Marinette? You saw her face?” Alya repeated her boyfriend’s words, emphasising each and everyone of them as she looked Lila in the eyes.

“Alya, not you too.” Lila sniffled, tears basically dropping out of her eyes like big, fat droplets of salt water. “It was her— I saw her blazer, it had MDC stitched onto it.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in between the girl and her boyfriend, neither quite knowing what to say. “Oh. I… I see.” Alya said at last, turning back to her food. “Well… Lunch is almost over. Let’s… Let’s get back to class.”

“Marinette just threatened me in the bathroom!” Lila puffed up, clearly upset now. “She mocked me! She called you guys stupid for believing her act!”

“Dudette.” Nino shattered the ice-cold silence at their lunch table, swallowing heavily. “Marinette was with us the whole time you were in the bathroom.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The tension inside the room was so thick that Adrien could cut it with his bare hands. God, what had happened? The day had started off so well— Marinette agreed to be friends with Lila, god bless the girl— But as it turned out, one hurdle folded over only to be towered over by a taller one. 

“Alya—” Lila began tearfully, her pitiful look attracting the sympathy of those who still didn’t know what was going on. 

“You claimed that Marinette threatened you in the bathroom.” Alya interrupted. “While she was with us the whole time in the cafeteria.” 

Faltering, the Italian struggled to find a way to squeeze herself out of the tight spot. “M— Maybe it was someone else.” Reluctantly, she backed out one trap into another one. 

“You said that you were sure! You said that she was wearing a blazer with MDC stitched on it. Marinette was wearing that blazer during lunch!” The reporter shot back, Nino at her side, trying to extinguish the conflicted fire blazing inside Alya’s heart. 

The seeds of doubt had been sewn, and Lila was going to have a tough time weeding them out. “I... I’m sorry!” She burst out into tears, sobbing pitifully in front of the class, most of which were already in attendance. “My lying disease is acting up again. I... I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!” 

“Uh... Is this a bad time to ask if anyone wants macarons?” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, standing at the front of the room. Her royal blue blazer had been shed, and it now hung over her arm, properly folded into half. Earlier, she had asked Rose for the time to make sure that she had a witness in case Lila tried to pull another act— But as it seemed, the Italian was determined to dig her own grave and all the work had been done. 

The students of Mlle. Bustier’s class shared looks. 

“I’ll... I’ll have one.” Mylene cleared her throat, hoping that it would diffuse the situation. 

“Me too.” Kim followed, not missing the way Marinette flinched slightly at his words. Most of the words he had said to her of late had not been nice at all— But he justified that with the fact that she was being a bully to Lila, like Chloe had been to Marinette herself. 

“Great!” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, slapping on a strained smile. She passed the box to the front row, where Sabrina and Chloe were, gesturing for them to pass the box along until everyone got their fill. 

Internally, Lila seethed, anger burning like a wildfire that tore down every lush sign of life in her path. The girl had never felt that livid in her entire life— Who did Dupain-Cheng think she was, having a change of heart out of nowhere, pretending to play along with those oh-so-innocent eyes of hers? 

“I... I think I know why my disease acted up again,” Lila sniffled, loud enough to gather attention again. Unsure glances passed around like an object that no one wanted, carried from hand to hand forcefully as no one wanted to hold onto it for too long. “It... It must’ve been because of... Of the cardigan that Marinette made me! You must’ve known that...” The Italian squinted at the cardigan on her desk, “... Cotton triggers my lying disease!” 

The bluenette, still passing around macarons, stopped in her tracks. Inside her mind, Marinette was shaking her head, an amused smile on her cheeks. She had to give Lila credit for that one— She would’ve never anticipated that lie from her nemesis. “That’s terrible!” She sucked in a breath, putting on a dismayed look. “I’m really sorry, Lila! I know it seems like I did this on purpose, but I promise I didn’t! To make it up to you, I’ll make you another one.” 

Is she serious right now? Lila scoffed mentally. How long does she plan to keep this going? No matter— She’ll eventually drain herself out and I won’t even have to meddle in this matter. 

Marinette sniffled, collecting the cardigan pitifully from Lila’s desk. “But to prevent future incidents, Lila, I just want you to know that this isn’t made of cotton... It’s made from the highest-quality of star silk, which is incredibly difficult to produce and is rather expensive. It’s such a pity... I thought that only the best of materials would be deserving to be used to make an apology present... I guess you can’t wear it. I’ll just make another copy of the cardigan with some normal-range silk.” Sighing, the bluenette pretended to mull in sadness for a few seconds before an idea struck her. “Alya! You aren’t allergic to star silk, right?” 

The flow of conversation redirected suddenly, with the reporter snapping to attention and nodding eagerly as she realised what was about to happen. 

“Then... Since I’ve spent so long on this, I don’t want it to go to waste... Why don’t you have it, instead?” Offered Marinette with a sweet, shy smile on her face. 

Lila, still caught up in shock by the reveal of the material— Was then slammed with a wall of flaming anger as Alya squealed, coddling the soft, fluffy material that made the cardigan the exquisite product it was. 

“Marinette’s right,” Adrien chipped in with his own two cents, “Father can rarely get his hands on that material— It costs a fortune, and if hand-made... It takes forever.” 

“Oh, I wove the silk by myself,” Marinette added shyly after Adrien’s contribution, “So I apologise if it’s not up to the quality of industry-level star silk.” 

The reporter gushed, still cooing and running her hands over the gorgeous threads of fabric that made up the cloud-like base of the cardigan, eyes sparkling and the details of the embroidery. 

Marinette smiled, returning to her seat without a fuss. The rest of the class continued to pass the pastries around, the perfect description of ‘ignorance is bliss’ as they pretended as if they couldn’t see the way Lila was shaking in anger. Alya, on the other hand, could see nothing but the garment in her hands, her ‘best friend’ having become invisible for the time being. 

Just as well that it turned out this way, Marinette hummed, twirling her pen in hand, Let that be my departing gift to Rena Rouge. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomorrow arrived like clockwork, never late and always on time. The crowd of students clamouring by the front of Francois Dupont hushed to silence as they parted for two dark-haired women, both of which were giving off waves of confidence. Simple conversation flowed between the two, who were perfect examples of elegance and grace, their traditional-inspired attire complementing the royal-like aura they had. 

“This dress is really lovely, Marinette,” Kagami smiled gently, admiring the way the fabric flowed around her. The designer had gifted her friend with a maroon-coloured hanfu-inspired dress, complete with hand-sewn embroidery of a golden dragon curled around Kagami’s waist and neck. The dress was completed with a pleated skirt that went all the way to the heels. At first, the fencer was reluctant about the skirt due to the limited maneuverability, but then Marinette revealed that the skirt was very simple to take off as it was just tied around the waist. 

“You look gorgeous in it. It suits you.” Marinette replied, dressed in a similar looking dress. Her hanfu-inspired dress was light pink in colour, with silver threads depicting cranes flying about freely. The pleated skirt was grey in colour, lined with a soft circle of white. 

Kagami blushed slightly. “Thank you.” Briefly, the Japanese girl wondered why on Earth Marinette would go and embroider a dragon onto her dress— Was it purely a coincidence, or...? 

“I’m really glad you decided to transfer here,” Marinette smiled softly, her dark blue bangs framing her face as the rest of it was gathered into a braid that Kagami had helped weave. “It’s going to be nice! I’ll get to see you a lot more often.” 

“We’re in different classes, though.” Frowning, Kagami wondered if she should request a change of homeroom. 

“For now.” The designer winked playfully. “Oh, I have to get to class. See you during lunch?” 

Without waiting for a reply, the blue-eyed girl moved away gracefully, leaving Kagami in confusion. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Good morning,” Marinette greeted gracefully, sweeping into the classroom with her bag over her shoulder and a package in her hands. This package was clearly not as exquisitely-wrapped as the one from the day before, as it was just brown paper and some rough string. 

Alya brightened at the sight of her friend, shrinking away slightly whenever Lila tried to say anything. Sure, the reporter did shake off the initial reaction and respond to whatever her ‘best friend’ said, but the damage had been done. 

“Here’s your new cardigan. It’s made from the same material as your shirt,” Marinette smiled warmly, placing the package on Lila’s table. “It’s a little different from the one I brought yesterday, but I still poured in all my emotions when I made it, so I hope you’ll accept it.” 

Through a gritted smile, the Italian thanked the designer, clenching her fists under the table. That was the second time in two days she had to thank Mari-brat! She swore that if she had to do it again a third time, she was going to slap someone. 

“Oh, Marinette!” Alya called out excitedly, wearing the cardigan that was originally supposed to be Lila’s. “This cardigan is so soft! It’s really amazing to wear! As expected of you, girl!” 

The bluenette stared back at the reporter, wavering for a bit. She had a feeling that Alya wanted something from her... 

“So... I was wondering...” The reporter’s expression turned sheepish, with Marinette’s internal thought-train going ah, there it comes— “Could you remove this and put my name instead?” Alya picked up the corner of the cardigan, pointing to the inside of the garment, where ‘Lila Rossi’ was embroidered on. 

“Ah...” Marinette didn’t even have to fake her nervousness. We already agreed on this, She told herself, No more doing free stuff for people. No more. “Sorry, Alya. My parents need a lot of help in the bakery recently,.. You know how it is! Family always comes first. I’ve already taken out a lot of time to make the cardigan for Lila... And I promised Kagami I’d go out with her this weekend. I’m afraid I don’t have time...” 

There was no missing the way Alya’s face fell instantly. “Couldn’t you put off Kagami for me? Aren’t we best friends?” 

“I thought Lila was your best friend,” Feigning an expression of innocence, Marinette tilted her head slightly. “You shouldn’t go around saying things like that, Alya. You might hurt Lila’s feelings. Besides, a promise is a promise. I wouldn’t want to hurt Kagami’s feelings either. Not to mention— I gave you that cardigan for free. That was two weeks’ worth of hard work. I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to take time out to alter it for free either. If you really want to get it done, you could ask an external tailor to do it for you. I know a few who can do really good embroidery.” 

Alya faltered. “But... We used to be best friends...” 

Snorting mentally, Marinette continued to hold her calm composure. “Like I said, you really shouldn’t say that, Alya. Lila might get upset and we don’t want to hurt her feelings— Right, Adrien?” 

The blonde jumped when the conversation turned to him out of nowhere. All of a sudden, every eye in the classroom was fixed on him. “R— Right, of course.” He said, forcing out each word. 

Satisfied, Marinette nodded, still wearing her ever-so-kind smile. “Exactly.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Hey, why don’t we all go out and have a picnic outside during lunch?” Alya suggested loudly, jumping up as soon as the lunch bell rang. “Marinette, you can come along too!” Something inside the reporter’s chest was stirring, and with the events of the past few days, Alya felt like she just had to quench that unsettling feeling— And the first step to that was to mend things with Marinette, even though it was the bluenette’s fault for always having been biased to Lila. Alya smiled, proud of herself. She would be the bigger person, she would forgive Marinette, she would integrate the designer back into the class again. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette replied just as quickly, “We don’t know what Lila might be allergic to— She could easily trigger a reaction if we go out, especially since it’s spring.” 

A collective choir of groans rounded the class. 

“Well, I’m going to go back to the hotel to have a first-class meal,” Chloe turned her nose up at her classmates. “... Dupain-Cheng, would you like to come?” 

Shock painted the faces of the whole classroom. Did Chloe just... Ask Marinette something... Politely? 

“I’d love to take that offer, Chloe.” Responded the bluenette, graceful and flawless as ever. “Perhaps tomorrow?” 

“Suit yourself. They’re serving lobster today.” Chloe huffed. “If you’re really that busy, then fine. We can discuss...” The Mayor’s daughter trailed off as she blushed. 

The bluenette giggled knowingly. “You’d like to commission a dress from me, right?” 

“... No.” 

“...” 

“... Maybe.” 

“Alright.” Marinette nodded. “Then maybe it’ll be more convenient if I head over to the hotel after school. I’ll need to take your measurements and we can discuss the prices after.” 

“Whatever.” Chloe waved her away haughtily, a poor effort to cover up her embarrassment. “Sabrina. Let’s go.” 

“Chloe?” Alya guffawed. “Why are you commissioning something from Marinette?” 

Rolling her eyes as if Alya had just asked the stupidest question ever, Chloe answered plainly. “Because she’s one of the up-and-rising designers in the industry? Have you seen what Dupain-Cheng is wearing today? Celebrities are already fighting for spots in her commission list. Even my mother and Gabriel Agreste acknowledge her talent. I’m not dumb, Cesaire. I can recognise a future fashion queen when I see one.” 

Wow, Marinette breathed, looking at the stunned faces around the room, Chloe sure knows how to create an impression. 

“W— Well.” Stuttered the reporter after Chloe made her big exit. “Then... What about going to the bakery for lunch?” 

“Didn’t Lila say she saw a rat in the bakery the last time she visited it?” Marinette pointed out. “The health officer checked the surveillance and the claim was dismissed, of course, because my parents make sure the bakery is as hygienic as possible— But I’m sure Lila is traumatised from that incident. I wouldn’t want to force her to come along to the bakery— And we wouldn’t want to leave her out either, right?” 

This elicited another round of groans. 

Oh, I am enjoying myself way too much, Marinette chuckled mentally. 

“Then— Then...” Alya struggled visibly before she was put out of her misery. 

“It’s fine, Alya.” The designer reassured her. “I wouldn’t want to bother Lila. I’m sure she’s still upset at me. You guys go ahead. I have to go back to the bakery to help my parents out. See you guys after!” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Slam! 

Lila fumed, hand still pressed on her locker door. What. The. Hell. Was Mari-brat trying to do? She didn’t miss the way some of her classmates sent her unsatisfactory looks after that pre-lunch stunt that Marinette had pulled. 

And what was the thing about high-and-mighty Chloe commissioning from Marinette? 

Sure, Lila would admit that the cardigan that the designer made was indeed gorgeous, and the fabric was smooth and velvety, a quality unlike any of the clothing that Lila had ever had the privilege to touch— But surely a lowly brat like Dupain-Cheng couldn’t be that popular... Right? 

Dammit, hissed the Italian girl, Maybe I should’ve tried being friends with Mari-brat instead of Cesaire. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Is that... Marinette and Kagami?” Nino gaped, prompting Alya to turn around. It was true— Walking up the steps of Francois Dupont together were the two blue-haired girls, a gentle smile dancing on Kagami’s lips as Marinette talked animatedly, her hands waving around quickly to further elaborate her point. 

Students lounging around the entrance for lunch couldn’t tear their eyes off the two and their matching dresses. Sure, the two girls had walked into school the same way that morning— But now that the afternoon sun was high up in the sky, the golden and silver embroidery was glinting luminously, revealing the true caliber of Marinette’s craft. 

“But... They’re rivals.” Stuttered Alya. She just couldn’t understand... Weren’t they supposed to hate each other? 

“They both like Adrien but they can still get along,” Nino remarked thoughtfully, taking a bite from his sandwich. “So Marinette wasn’t lying about going to meet Kagami yesterday.” 

Alya was silent. 

“Alya? What’s wrong?” Worried, Nino put a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder, care and concern shining through his honest eyes. 

“If... If Marinette doesn’t get jealous or biased over someone who also likes Adrien...” Alya started quietly, eyes still fixed on the two girls, “Then why was she so against Lila?” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Mlle. Bustier?” The teacher looked up at the voice of her favourite student. Fondly, she smiled. Marinette had finally seen the light and changed her ways, becoming the helpful, generous, kind Marinette that served as a great example for her peers. “May I make an announcement before class ends?” 

“Of course, dear.” Mlle. Bustier gave permission instantly— Marinette was taking up the reins of leadership again! The teacher couldn’t help but do a happy dance internally. 

“I have an announcement to make, so if everyone could listen, I’d be really thankful.” Marinette started, her clear blue eyes meeting those of her classmates. 

She took a deep breath. This is it. I’ve done what I needed to do, now it’s time to finish the job. 

“These past two days... Have been great,” Marinette started wistfully. “I really missed hanging around everyone, just like we did before,” Before you all turned your backs on me and stabbed me when I wasn’t looking, “But I can’t deny— And neither can you— That the things that have happened... They had a really deep impact. And I’ve realised that I can’t just ignore that damage that has been done.” The damage that has been done to me. “So, for the better of everyone— I’ve decided that I... Will transfer classes.” 

It was as if an explosion had gone off in Mlle. Bustier’s classroom. 

“Girl! You can’t do that!” Alya exclaimed in dismay, “We can fix things! Everything has been going well these few days, haven’t they?” 

“Dudette! Honestly, we forgive you.” Nino sighed, “Things just aren’t the same if you’re not here anymore.” 

Adrien didn’t say a word, but the imploring gaze he wore said enough. Please don’t leave me here alone. We promised we’d fight together, right? As long as both of us know... 

Marinette held her hand up to silence them, and the classroom, just as swiftly, became the deadly silence that followed post-disaster. “I understand. But once again, this is for the better,” — Of my mental health, “I’ve talked to Mlle. Mendeliev, and she’s agreed to take me in. I believe that once the changes have taken place, we can all grow more freely without restrictions.” 

In the corner, Mlle. Bustier was tearing up and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. 

“Mlle. Bustier,” Marinette turned to her teacher, no malice in her eyes. “I’ll be under Mlle. Mendeliev’s care now.” 

“Marinette...” The teacher sobbed quietly, with Chloe shooting her a look of disgust from the front row. 

“It’s not going to be easy for any of us,” Marinette turned back to the class, “But with time, I’m sure we will all prosper. Especially since you will now be under the care of our one and only Lila Rossi.” 

Adrien looked like someone had just killed a puppy in front of him. 

“Since I am the current class president, I thought I’d pass on the duties onto the most capable person in our class.” Marinette explained warmly, never moving her gaze away from the bewildered Lila. “Lila has the most connections in our class out of all of us, and she’s met so many CEOs and entrepreneurs that she must know a lot about organising and planning. I’m sure you can do it, Lila, but...” She paused. “You can handle it, right?” 

“Y— Yeah. Of course.” Lila stuttered. 

“You promised the class that you’d get BTS to perform for the year-end fundraiser since you were supposed to be in an arranged marriage with their youngest member, Jungkook.” Marinette continued, God I am enjoying myself too much honestly, but I ain’t going to stop now, “And you said you could convince your godfather, Bruce Wayne, to allow the class to go to Wayne Enterprises for this year’s class trip.” 

“She said she could convince Tony Hawk to give me an internship, too!” Alix chipped in. 

“And that she’d bring me along the next time Prince Ali asks for her help for a charity cause!” Rose smiled. 

“She said she’d introduce me to the CEO of Graham Films!” Nino’s eyes shone at the idea. 

The class continued to talk all over one another until Marinette silenced them once more. “Now, now. Let’s not overwhelm Lila. We wouldn’t want her to be overworked or to feel like the expectations are set too high, right?” 

The class agreed, nodding along. 

Marinette made eye contact with Lila, offering her a sweet smile as she did so. Lila, on the other hand, had no taste for such politeness. Instead, she straight-out glared at the former class president. 

This is your problem now. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette! I was hoping to catch you before you went home,” Alya panted, having been able to find the bluenette in the locker room before the designer slipped out of her reach. “You... You’re really serious about leaving?” 

“Yeah.” Smiled Marinette, organising her textbooks into her bag, dusting down her skirt. Noticing Alya’s crestfallen expression, she took the initiative to continue the conversation. “Is there anything else, Alya?” 

“Did you... Did you really hate Lila because she liked Adrien, too?” The reporter asked somewhat timidly. 

Marinette giggled. Normally, when the girl giggled, you could hear a gentle tinkling of wind chimes— But at that moment, Alya heard the freezing winds on Mount Everest instead. “Don’t be silly, Alya. All this over a boy? Besides, I’m over him.” 

“Then...” Alya swallowed difficulty. “Lila... Really was lying this whole time?” 

The gaze that swept across the reporter was stone cold, and it made Alya feel as if she was dangling over a valley of jagged rocks. “What do you think, Alya?” Even so, the bluenette maintained a sweet smile. 

“She was. She was lying the whole time.” Alya suddenly felt as if she had a shortness of air. “This whole time—” 

“Oh, good for you. You finally learned how to see further than one feet in front of you.” Marinette hummed. “I’m proud of you, really. But I’m afraid that I don’t have the time to listen to you slowly come to conclusions after I’ve tried making you see sense for the past half a year. I tried to stop you from ruining your futures, but I guess determination was always one of your good traits.” 

Alya slipped to the floor, having lost the feeling in her legs. She placed one hand against the lockers for support as she shook, weakly looking up at the girl who she was once so proud to call her ‘best friend’. 

“Marinette?” Kagami’s voice rang through the room, indicating that the girl was waiting at the doorway. “You said you were heading to Bourgeois’s hotel after school— Would you like a ride?” 

“That’d be nice, Kagami. A moment.” The designer looked down at her friend and smiled, albeit a little sadly this time— And then she lowered her voice. 

“Determination was always one of your good traits.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette,” Adrien perked up at the sight of the bluenette leaving the school doors— Side by side with Kagami, who looked ready to draw a sword and start a duel then and there. 

“This’ll just take a minute, ‘Gami.” Marinette reassured, gently patting her friend’s arm. “Why don’t you get in the car first? It looks like it’s going to rain.” 

Reluctantly, Kagami nodded. “Alright.” Warily, the fencer stepped down the stairs and into the car— But even as she sat in the vehicle, she watched over her fellow bluenette like a hawk, ready to jump out and challenge the blonde if the situation called for it. 

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. Luckily for him, the designer decided to start the conversation. 

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Marinette smiled softly. A few months ago, when she looked at Adrien, she would see the kind, generous, pure-hearted boy with the finest golden hair and the brightest green eyes. Now? All she saw was a spineless, sheltered, passive child that was afraid of confrontations. 

“For what?” Adrien looked at Marinette, and no longer did he see the cute, pigtail-adorning girl that would blush fiercely everytime he tried to talk to her. Instead, he saw a beautiful, young woman, a rock that had pulled through all the odds to become a vibrant, iridescent diamond. 

Marinette was glowing with confidence, her presence diffusing into the air around her and triggering eyes to look up every time she walked by. There was something about the way she held herself that just made the woman demand awe and respect from those that crossed her path. The old ‘Clumsinette’ had been shed like an old snake skin to reveal a treasure, a better version of the bluenette that had always been waiting for her time to come. 

Bluebell eyes met green ones just as rain began to patter down onto the streets of Paris. Marinette glanced up slightly, not at all bothered as she smoothly retrieved an umbrella from her bag, holding it out for the blonde to take. A flush of deja vu burst through Adrien’s veins and through his skin as he took it with a mumbled thanks, eyes blown wide as Marinette let loose her hair from her ponytail, pulling her blazer over her head to avoid getting her head wet. 

Adrien could only gape as Marinette uttered familiar words back to him, a knowing smile dancing across her lips as she ran off into the rain as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The bluenette looked lighter, brighter, ready to take flight and soar towards the success that her crops of hard work had finally started to bear. Before the blonde model knew it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had slipped out of his grip, already spreading her multi-coloured wings to land among the stars. 

“Thank you for telling me to take the high road.”  

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

this was both satisfying and tiring to write... 

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 3

@pocketramblr (also please let me know if you would like me to stop tagging you on these, I don't want to be annoying. :))

"WAIT!" shouted Nana abruptly, as Izuku was talking to his (weirdo) teacher. "I know who that is! Quick, get ready to turn everything off!"

"Turn what off?" asked En. "We live in a formless mental void. We don't even have electricity."

"The quirk! That's Eraserhead!"

"Oh, yeah," said Yoichi, while everyone else (sans Second and Third) scrambled to grab onto the quirk. "I remember Eight meeting him, now! So, he's a teacher, huh?"

"How do all of you forget the one person who might be capable of one-shotting All for One?" demanded Nana.

"Doesn't his quirk not work on mutations?"

"Stop daydreaming and get over here, Yoichi!"

The quirkspace began to glow faintly, ominously red, and the ghosts pulled hard on the quirk, holding it temporarily out of Izuku's reach.

Then, the red glow abated and they dropped it back into place.

"Well, that was exhausting," said Banjo. "So, we'll have to be constantly ready for that, huh?"

"As long as he's around, yeah," said Nana.

"Why did we just do that, anyway?" asked En.

"So we can continue to masquerade as a normal, non-haunted quirk?"

"We could have just let him think he didn't have a quirk, or that the anxiety-"

"Super anxiety."

"-isn't part of it."

Yoichi gasped, as if scandalized. "You'd want us to lie to Izuku?"

"Okay, seriously, what is up with you and Nine?" asked En.

Despite not having a body, Yoichi began to visibly sweat. "Nothing, nothing at all. I just... think he's neat?"

"If you're going to lie to us, can you not do it with archaeomemes?" asked Nana.

"No, no, actually, I can get behind this," said En. "Would you say Izuku has... vibes?"

Yoichi nodded solemnly.

.

"Young Midoriya!"

Izuku shrieked and jumped back from the sudden sound as All Might suddenly emerged from an otherwise innocuous bush.

Both of them froze, staring at each other.

"Are you..." said All Might, hesitantly, sounding much more like he did in his small form than usual, "alright?"

"I... think so?"

"That's good, then." All Might coughed slightly into his fist. "I was wondering if you had a few minutes."

"Of- of course!" said Izuku, immediately.

"Then allow me to lead the way!"

All Might led him through a door labeled 'staff only' and immediately deflated. "All the staff know about my condition," explained Mr. Yagi.

Izuku nodded. Then a thought occurred to him. "Mr. Yagi?"

"Yes, my boy?"

"Why, um, why don't you teach, um, as Mr. Yagi? Instead of as All Might? Wouldn't it save your time?"

Mr. Yagi stopped and scratched his head. "I hadn't really thought about it before," he admitted. "But part of the reason I took this job, other than wanting to help train the next generation of heroes, of course, is that I want to get people used to the idea that I am going to retire." He tugged on one of his bangs. "Also, ah, I'm not sure if my qualifications to teach are quite up to par without my reputation."

"I'm sure it would be fine! You're the best, after all!"

Mr. Yagi chuckled. "I'm glad you think so," he said. Then he reached behind him and opened a door. "In any case: my office."

"Wow," said Izuku, quietly, stepping in. "All Might's office..." Who knew when he'd get another opportunity like this again? He kept his eyes wide to drink in the details.

The rather sparse details. The office was rather bare. Which made sense, seeing as All Might was a brand-new teacher. It was sort of... disappointing, as thrilling as it was.

Mr. Yagi sat down behind the desk and gestured for Izuku to take one of the other chairs. It had a lot of cushioning. A lot a lot. Izuku sank down into the fluff as Mr. Yagi fiddled with a drawer on his desk. He got the drawer open, and pulled out a notebook. A notebook of the same brand Izuku liked to use, actually.

"Since your experiences with One for All are so different from mine, I thought it might be a good idea to do some research into past holders and take a leaf out of your notebook, as it were." He passed the notebook over to Izuku, who took it with shaking hands and a slightly open mouth.

"I'll treasure it," he declared, voice wobbling.

"Not so much that you don't use it, I hope," said Mr. Yagi. "As it is, it's only an overview. The earlier holders, especially, don't have many records associated with them. Consider it a starting point. I haven't had much time to work on it."

"I can't believe you found the time to write this at all," said Izuku, flipping through the pages. The information was sparse, but each holder had a basic profile, all the way back to the fourth. "I mean, between being a hero, training me, and preparing to be a teacher, I'm stunned nothing fell by the wayside!"

Mr. Yagi proceeded to turn a very interesting color.

"Uh, nothing fell by the wayside, right?"

"Why don't you take a few minutes to skim through. If anything jumps out at you right away, we can talk about it. And then I'll let you go get changed and go home, and we can discuss more later, after you've had more time with it."

"Okay!" said Izuku. He'd start with just the basic profiles. Name, date of birth, date of death, quirk... wait, those ages... "They all died young," he said, softly.

"Hero work is dangerous," said Mr. Yagi, hand going to his side.

"There's something else, isn't there?"

"Not something you need to worry about. I took care of it, years ago." The hand holding his side spasmed slightly.

"... Six years ago?" asked Izuku, aware he was pushing his luck. But this sounded both important and relevant.

There was a long pause. "Yes," said All Might, finally. "A villain with a longevity quirk. He... had a history with the first user."

Izuku got the feeling that was an understatement. It also seemed unlikely that the only application of the villain's quirk was longevity, given what he'd done to All Might. But the subject was clearly making All Might uncomfortable, so he dropped it in favor of burying his nose in the notebook again.

(Social fumbles aside, this was the most secure Izuku had felt for... a while.)

"The sixth user had a smoke quirk?"

"Yes, it seems so. Although it doesn't seem to have been actual smoke, but a biological compound."

"I wonder if that has anything to do with all the steam you release when you deflate. Actually..." he flipped back through the quirk. "I wonder if you're using Float, too, subconsciously, when you jump."

"What?"

"I- I mean," said Izuku, "I noticed, when, um, when I grabbed your ankle and also in videos of you- Your hang time is kind of messed up? You're in the air for longer than you should be, but it isn't, like, consistent? Plus, you can change direction mid-air, which I thought was because you were shooting out blasts of air pressure with your quirk, but with me on your ankle, you definitely didn't do that. There was- there was a forum I was on where some people thought your quirk tapped into magnetic fields, somehow, but that doesn't make any sense, because you'd expect a lot more electronic interference and that similar locations would produce similar results, given the Earth's magnetic field, but they don't. But subconscious, low-level use of a telekinesis-based flying quirk would explain everything. If we take into account what you said about my anxiety after the entrance exam, then that's minor expressions of three out of four of the quirks listed here, not counting the base stockpile and enhancement quirk. Do you think the unknown quirks of the second and third users might have partially manifested for you as well? Have you experienced anything else that's atypical for a strength enhancement quirk?"

Mr. Yagi stared at Izuku.

Oh, no, he'd gone too far.

"Nothing immediately comes to mind, my boy," he said, faintly. "But... magnets? Really?"

"I told you it didn't make any sense."

Mr. Yagi rubbed his chin. "There might be something, but... it's too unclear to say either way. I'll keep an eye out. It's just... a lot to take in. I thought One for All was done surprising me."

"When has it surprised you before?"

"Oh, under the influence of certain mental quirks, you can wind up hallucinating the previous users."

"Hallucinating?"

"Yes. But being under the influence of a mental quirk is always the larger issue, so..."

"Mr. Yagi," said Izuku. "That's really the kind of thing you should let people know about up front."

"I- is it?"

.

The ghosts all stared at Nana.

"Hey, don't blame this on me! None of us explained that kind of stuff before passing One for All on."

"In our defense," said En, half raising a hand, "we were usually dying when we passed it on."

"More importantly," said Hikage, "do you think Ninth is right about the quirks?"

"It would make sense," mused Yoichi. "Although then we'd have to wonder why Blackwhip didn't manifest similarly."

"Is it too much for me to get someone to use my quirk? My extremely awesome quirk, that has no downsides?"

"It is powered almost exclusively by rage."

"No downsides."

"You-"

"No. Downsides."

.

Aizawa passed him an envelope labeled 'quirk counseling' along with the standard schedule and orientation packet he was handing to everyone else. It didn't look like any of his class mates had noticed, though, for which Izuku was grateful. He didn't want to be known as a weirdo who didn't know what his own quirk was.

He heavily suspected he was tapping into Danger Sense, somehow, but he didn't know how, and the fourth user of One for All had lived so long ago there weren't any records of him. Not easily and publicly available. Everything Mr. Yagi had written in his notebook (that Izuku had probably stayed up way too late reading... and texting Mr. Yagi about it... and comparing it to his notes... and texting Mr. Yagi about that... and reviewing old All Might compilations and theory threads... and having Mr. Yagi threaten to call his mom if he didn't go to sleep...) about the fourth user had been retrieved from the journals Mr. Yagi's mentor had passed down, according to one of the source notes in the margin.

(Mr. Yagi had really neat, small handwriting, which Izuku wouldn't have ever expected from his large, dramatic signatures as All Might, and his notes were meticulous and carefully cited. If Izuku didn't know better, he would have thought it belonged to a secretary.)

But despite Izuku's suspicions, he didn't actually know. He didn't know it's range, what it defined as danger, whether or not it 'ranked' dangers, how to distinguish it from normal anxiety, or- Well. Anything, really. And he would really like to.

He opened the envelope quietly. Inside was a handwritten note instructing him to pick one of three schedules for quirk counseling and return it to Aizawa by the end of the day. The other pages were printed, with times and possible locations. Options for both before and after the school day.

Izuku felt his eyes tearing up. This was easily the nicest thing a teacher had ever done for him... Although he was nervous about being alone with Aizawa. Some of his other teachers, when they asked him to stay after class it was... not good.

Nothing bad happened, not like in movies or TV shows or the awareness videos the school had shown sometimes. The teachers didn't hurt him, really, didn't do anything to him, other than talk or yell, mostly, but it still wasn't good.

Maybe he could ask Mr. Yagi or Recovery Girl to sit in... But he already felt bad, taking up so much of their time.

He picked one of the after school schedules. He was already staying late on the other days to work with Mr. Yagi, and if something did go wrong, he wanted to have the night to recover before he had to face Aizawa again in class.

He put it to the side, so he'd remember to give it to Aizawa before he left, then looked over the class schedule. Homeroom, Math, Hero Art History, History, and English in the morning. At least this morning. The history classes alternated with something called Heroics-Applied Science and Hero Law and Ethics. Afternoons, meanwhile, were entirely occupied by Hero Basic Training.

And every class would be taught by a pro hero. He wondered if it would be rude to ask for their autographs...

.

Shouta grunted as Hizashi flopped down onto the couch next to him on the couch in the staff breakroom. "What a morning! I just love seeing all those bright little faces at the beginning of the year. Anyone have a favorite first year yet?"

Shouta kicked Hizashi through his sleeping bag. Sadly, this had no effect on the man.

"I think mine might be the little green guy. He's the only one who was actually paying attention, and you know how rare that is, when everyone is anticipating their first heroics lesson. The rest of us just pale in comparison."

Shouta attempted to kick Hizashi again, this time for an entirely different reason. Midoriya was already All Might's favorite (probably)- he did not need more pull with the staff.

"I know who my least favorite is," said Kan. "Kid's certainly dedicated and competitive, but I wouldn't be surprised if he threatened his middle school teachers into giving him those glowing reviews. His personality needs a lot of work. How did you get Nezu to saddle me with Bakugo, anyway, Eraser?"

"I had nothing to do with it."

"Don't give me that, I was going to have Monoma. At least he's a team player."

"You're being illogical," said Shouta, zipping his sleeping bag closed over his face.

"How about you, Nemuri?" asked Hizashi, cutting off Vlad King vs Eraserhead round five hundred.

"It's hard to choose! They're all so cute and eager! Full of the passion of youth! I think they're all my favorite."

"You always say that..."

The door opened and closed.

"All Might! What about you? Any favorites yet?"

Yagi coughed. "I've only had the one class of third years so far. Don't you think that's rather... premature?"

What an incredible nonanswer.

"How did that first class of yours go, anyway? They didn't sour you to the whole idea of teaching, did they?"

"Not at all! The students were wonderful. The third years are very advanced, aren't they? For some of them, I wouldn't be shocked to see that skill level on an active sidekick."

"What can I say? We start them off right," crowed Hizashi.

"They did seem a little surprised by the scenario, however."

"So was I, t'be honest," said Snipe, who was in charge of the third years.

"Ah, was it no good...?"

"It was fine. Lesson plan was a bit rough around the edges, but you and Nezu'll be goin' over that later. But... quirk traffickin' doesn't quite seem like your thing."

"Ah, well, set-pieces," he said, using the slightly derisive underground slang for large-scale spotlight hero battles, "may be what I'm known for, but before my injury, the majority of my battles and investigations weren't publicized."

"Shield laws?" asked Nemuri.

"Generally, yes, but some of the investigations were tied to others, so we were using the organized crime secrecy laws to keep those under wraps. Simply put, my popularity isn't the only reason I keep the number one spot despite Endeavor having more completed cases than me on paper."

Shouta had known there was more to All Might than 'punchy, over-the-top, eyestrain-causing, bombastic muscle guy,' but part of his stupid, illogical brain was annoyed at Yagi for pummeling that image into imaginary dust, anyway. It seemed like the man's only two flaws were horrible interpersonal skills when not using his public persona, and his vast suite of health issues, the latter of which all heroes who operated long enough picked up.

Oh, and a possible inclination towards bribery.

Made it hard to dislike him, which Shouta wanted to do, because he was loud, flashy, and gave him headaches, literal and metaphorical. He ignored the fact that Hizashi was the same way, and had forcibly become Shouta's best friend. Clearly, there was no connection here.

"By the way, why is young Aizawa completely zipped in like that?"

"Nap time," said Hizashi, solemnly.

.

"Sir?" said Iida, raising his hand.

"Yes, young man?" boomed All Might.

"There are nineteen of us. How are we handling the odd person out?"

"Excellent question! In other exercises, we may handle it differently, but for today, one of you will be working alone! Occasionally, a hero may find themselves isolated when they originally expected help. However, for better balance, I have also arranged it so the odd hero out will be taking part in the last battle, so you'll have more time to strategize!"

But the other team would also have more time to strategize, Izuku noted. He really hoped it wouldn't be him... not that he wanted to force it on any if his classmates! He just didn't want yet another handicap on the first day of training.

All Might walked around with the box of ballots, pausing for each student to take one. He reached Izuku and held the box out to him with a wink. Izuku smiled back, reached in, and grabbed one.

A chill ran up his back and he froze, fingers wrapped tightly around the little ball. Something told him this was definitely the cursed, single-person ballot. Could he let it go? Would it be considered cheating if he picked a new one?

But All Might was already walking away. Every part of his body tense, Izuku turned his hand over and forced his fingers apart.

J.

The tenth character of the Latin alphabet. For the tenth, last, team.

He watched as everyone else started to pair up, and All Might looked at him apologetically.

Izuku approximated a smile. Plus ultra, right?

[maxhirsch]

GENERAL.

full name:  maxine hirsch

age:  thirty-nine

gender:  cis woman

sexuality:  raging bisexual

pronouns:  she/her

residential area:  downtown vancouver

occupation:  cardiovascular surgeon

two positive traits:  hardworking, intuitive

two negative traits:  blunt, pedantic

length of time in vancouver:  28 years

faceclaim:  sophia bush

QUOTE.

“ i don’t have to forgive to heal. this anger has healed me in more ways than forgiving a person ever could. ”

BIOGRAPHY.

tw:  mentions of academic pressure, neglectful parents

her parents never legally married, and so they never attempted the traditional farce of staying together. if maxine thought about it, they hardly suffered one another’s company in the first place. the reason they kept her for was—well, no one really knows exactly why. she was never bold enough, or maybe cruel enough to demand an answer. perhaps they felt they wanted a child because it was the last bastion to cross, the last fence in the orchard of adulthood. the final magnet on the fridge of accomplished people. maybe they had simply seen a challenge, as it was so often their style, and launched headlong into it. they would approach child-rearing with the precision of mass reviews, as journalists do with great disasters, until it had the featherweight touch of a quantitative analysis: a rulebook to be followed to the letter. ��          

  they did all they were supposed to, adjusted maxine according to this litmus test. doctor visits, stellar extracurricular programs, language exchanges & debate clubs overseeing genovese lakes. they provided the bare essentials for this aluminum blueprint; anything superfluous, of course, would skew the results. maxine was the experiment they invested in, a uniform whole, rather than a sum of parts. if you judge it by any other name, the trial was a success. she had become the best version she could’ve ever been, all things considered. what if it was hollow, as all polished shells are? it was light enough to float. given the haphazard turns of her mind, the way it led itself to a fool’s gold chase that could’ve ruined her long ago—yes, given all these fatal flaws, her parents tempered as much as they could.          

   it was a twisted environment to live in, both the scion’s and the scholar’s; a microcosm of academic renown, foreign dignitaries, elizabethan plays instead of bedtime prayers. wealth, of course, and diplomacy went hand in hand, their fingers threaded together like the tails of small monsters. it was a world illuminated, but sterile—incandescent for all the wrong reasons. to her parents, everything remote required undiverted attention, even as it took place on the other side of the world; everything human grew tepid within seconds. the child learned to speak two, then three languages, and moved deftly between their unspoken rules—even as the deeper meaning eluded her. growing up, she would spend half the year in vancouver, where her mother had settled, and half in whatever place her father had a scholarship in. at times, a few months would get swapped in the schedule like tactical retreats—when a conference or a lawsuit came up, those unmissable, unmitigable things, maxine would suddenly find herself with more time to spend with one parent, and very little left to say. she never protested ; she learned this, early on, how to shape discontent into purpose, how to bevel disadvantage into a three-card trick.        

     she never protested most things—to her, feelings were best tasted in dreams, and even then they had to wear the face of others. she exuded a strange, stoical calm. there was authority, but there was also an ominous fire. as if she saw what might happen, and steeled herself throughout it all, even as her mind shied & sheathed back into itself. it was this air that got her through most of the situations where she had something to prove; that made up for her real, mercurial nature, which no one could even begin to guess at. it was this which acted as ransom, as guarantee, and bid others to follow her. an air of bravery which surpassed girlhood, and of wisdom which surpassed even will. above all, she learned to spin the narrative so that she was always turning. summers spent country clubbing in cambridge are long gone. the following years are spent in residency at john hopkins, and yet, she never managed to stray too far from home. with a newfound opening for the position, vancouver called max home like a siren song and she’s served as one of the lead cardiovascular surgeons since.  

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

ex-fiance  /  flings  /  exes  /  coworkers  /  best friends  /  drinking buddies  /  acquaintances  /  people that genuinely can’t stand her lmao  /  occupational rivals  /  past academic rivals

[adenei]

Day 3: January Word Challenge

A/N: Cutting it close on this one, but here we are!

Quiet

The Burrow wasn’t what Hermione remembered. Not in the least. Everyone had returned after the battle, but it wasn’t bustling with the energy of ten people staying under one roof. The mood was somber, and the Weasleys were moving lifelessly around the house. The laughter was absent, leaving an eerie stillness to settle in its place.

Everyone was attempting to adjust to this new normal. Fred’s absence had jarred the dynamic of the family. Each Weasley was handling his loss differently, and while Hermione worried about everyone, she was most worried about one Weasley in particular. Ron had seemingly folded in upon himself. His once easy going, laid back demeanor was gone, and had been replaced with a closed-off shell of who he’d once been. He’d barely spoken to her, or to anyone really. Except for George. He seemed to be the only one who was able to reach George. So, Hermione let the question of their relationship remain dangling by a thread until he was ready to focus on her, and found other ways to pass her time.

For Hermione, comfort was taken in completing household chores. Hermione would help out where she could with the laundry and vanishing the dust that had settled in the rooms from a month of disuse. When she wasn’t helping around the house, she was slowly working her way through the contents of the beaded bag. It had become a never ending chore to return what was Ron’s to him, and Harry’s belongings were placed back in his trunk that was brought down from the attic.

It was a few days after the funeral when Hermione was finally reaching the bottom of the beaded bag. She’d made a deal with herself that once she’d finished cleaning out the bag, she’d begin planning the trip to retrieve her parents. She gathered the remainder of Ron’s things and made her way up to his room to drop them off. 

Hermione didn’t expect him to be there, and was startled to see him lying on his bed, a book open in front of him. For the first time since they’d returned, he didn’t look completely overcome with grief.

“I’m sorry!” she said, breaking the quiet calmness in the room as she froze in the doorway.

Ron looked up at her. “Why would you be sorry?”

“I- I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting you to be in here, and I didn’t know if you’d want me around.”

He searched her face, and Hermione thought she saw a flash of guilt settle over him. “Why wouldn’t I want you around?” He frowned.

Hermione shrugged and shook her head as she set his things down on his desk to her right. “I’m not sure. I haven’t seen you much since we’ve been back.”

“I know. Sorry about that. Seems like I’m the only one George will tolerate, but he’s getting better, and now Ginny and Percy are taking turns. He even agreed to meet Lee and Angelina tomorrow.”

“That’s good,” Hermione said. An awkward silence fell over them when she wasn’t sure what to say next. She noticed the book was still lying open in front of him. She latched onto that to keep the conversation going. “What are you reading?”

“What?” Ron looked down and remembered the book was there. “It’s- It’s nothing.” He shut it quickly and turned to shove it under his pillow. “Was just a gift the twins got me for my seventeenth..”

“The twins got you a book?” Hermione was surprised by that.

“Er, yeah. I think it was meant to be a joke, but it’s helped a lot.”

“What’s it about?” Hermione tried asking again.

“Nothing,” Ron said quickly.

She raised an eyebrow at him. I wonder…. They were only just barely talking again. She probably shouldn’t do it, yet her hand was moving of her own accord as she felt it grasp around her wand, and a silent accio charm allowed the book to fly into her arms. 

“Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches?” she looked at him quizzically.

“Hermione!” He stood quickly in what appeared to be an attempt to swipe the book from her, but didn’t actually follow through. The air was tense with a heavy silence between then and Hermione was waiting for the row to ensue. “You were never supposed to see that.”

Oddly enough, his voice sounded more disappointed than angry. “I’m sorry, I was curious.” She set the book down behind her. “C-can I ask why you were reading it just now?”

“Just needed a refresher,” Ron said as he stared at his feet.

“A refresher? For what?” Hermione asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ron looked at her.

“Is there a girl I don’t know about?” Hermione attempted a joke.

“Very funny, Hermione.” He almost chuckled in slight disbelief at their current situation. “I thought you’d be more upset that I was using a book to help me with us.”

The smile that Hermione had just displayed transformed into a shocked expression as she looked at Ron. “Is there an us?”

His ears reddened at her question. “I know we haven’t talked, but- I’d like there to be.”

Hermione had to remind herself to keep breathing. “I would, too,” she whispered. “I’ve been waiting. I didn’t want to bring it up too soon.”

“It’s not.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, George told me to stop beating around the bush and ‘seal the deal already.’ His words, not mine. Told me I’d be doing Fred’s memory a disservice if I didn’t get my shit together.” Ron let out a strained laugh.

“So, you want to…” Hermione wanted to be certain.

“Yeah,” Ron reassured her again. They both stood there for a moment, neither moving until understanding hit them. Neither was sure who made the next move as they both stepped towards each other at the same time, like magnets attracting. Their lips met and their arms wrapped around each other, finally continuing what had been started in the Room of Requirement a fortnight ago.

[long-liv-prairies]

Snippet Sunday

I wasn’t tagged, but since I’ve actually been writing tonight...

Here’s a new snippet from my revision of Neither Angels, Nor Demons, Nor Powers I’ve been working on. I’m playing around with what it feels like to close the rifts, based on meta posts I’ve seen theorizing the Veil is made of sounds waves.

---

Her vision came back into focus. There. Just ahead. The rift. Gritting her teeth and gripped her daggers, Nassella sprinted forward. Or at least jogged. She nearly tripped over a root, and heard the sizzling of another attack from the wraith hitting a tree. But several yards later she collapsed behind a bush, gasping for breath, and raised her hand toward the rift.

It was like a magnet, the way the Anchor pulled toward the rifts when she was this close. She pushed whatever magic the mark contained toward the glowing crystalline structure, tensing when the shared energies met. A beam of light shot from the rift toward her hand, completing the connection and leaving Nassella’s entire body shaking as a dissonant vibration filled her body.

She held herself steady, focusing on that connection, on keeping the Fade’s tone from overpowering her own body. She forced the magic she now contained outward, through the rift and then down the threads that still connected the demons to the Fade.

Solas had told her how these threads kept the demons close to the rifts, the lingering presence of the Fade stabilizing them as they adjusted to the waking world. But they also drew strength along those threads, and eventually they would break free, and wander further away.

It was why she needed to close the rifts. More and more demons would just continue to pass over through them. Already they had encountered wandering demons, and even now she could hear wordless whispers through her connection to the rift as curious demons and spirits gathered in the Fade, drawn to her pain and fear and the chaotic song, eager to join the fray.

But she couldn’t close the rift with the demons this close, as they essentially extended its presence. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. The moment the Anchor’s magic reached the demons on this side of the Veil she would disrupt those threads, severing, at least momentarily, their connection to the Fade and throwing them into chaos.

She reached the terror demon, and shuddered. She could hear it scream as the Anchor probed into its body, and she knew it was honing in, rushing toward her location. She pushed faster, searching for the wraith, knowing it couldn’t be far…

[sleepdeprivedheretic]

Those Shoes (Ch.3)

Song Inspired: I Want You by Savage Garden

Notes: @youtubequeens Hope you stay hydrated and have a lovely time! <3 Here’s this bit for now :3

Warnings: Creepy people, not getting the hint that a person’s uncomfortable, unwanted flirting, and talk about emotions bc honestly what are they?

He smiled as Eijirou took a bite of his onigiri, Tamaki sighed softly at his younger brother, as said boy had specks of sticky rice on his face.

It was a lazy Sunday morning, the boys were home from school, and Taishiro was enjoying his day off.  

“Did ya have a good day at work, Papa?” The ruby-eyed boy inquired, and Tai smiled, ruffling his hair.

“Ya bet I did, kiddo.”

 He didn’t tell his boys what he had exactly did for a living, but he promised himself that he would, in the future. So far, all they knew is that he was a professional dancer.

“Dancing must be hard.” Tamaki broke the silence after chewing on his scrambled egg, and his father laughed.

“Nah. It takes a lotta practice. Did you boys had fun at yer day at school?” He pondered, sipping from his cup of coffee.

“Yeah! There was a nice new boy who was shy! There were some mean kids, but I protected him!” Eijirou rambled excitedly. Taishiro chuckled, and then looked at Tamaki.

“Mirio fell in a puddle. Face first. I had to take him to the nurse.” He shrugged, yet Taishiro didn’t miss the soft glint that speckled in his eyes. He smiled.

“That kid’s pretty resilient, huh? Anyways, eat yer breakfast, then we’ll head out to the park, alright?”

………………

It was a pretty November day. Skeleton trees hovered beneath the rich blue sky as your shoes crunched up against the fallen colorful leaves. Although it hasn’t been a week, yet, you were slowly re-adapting to your hostess job, and nit and tucking the dancer’s clothes.

You were surprised on how many had requested your services, staying absolutely still as you kept a cool facade, keeping the pointed needle from digging into skin as you measured, cut, and sewed loose fabric. You believed in your abilities, yet it felt as if it didn’t matter.

You weren’t good at holding the obvious flirty conversations that somehow were being thrown at you out of nowhere. They would giggle, and you had to still your hand so that you couldn’t accidentally jab their shaking bodies, whilst trying to be polite.

Where did the sudden interest come from? You wondered. Your mother, undoubtedly, was on high alert as she noticed it, too. The flirting, joking, the inquiring questions. Luckily, the fitting room had a camera, and thankfully, your patients had known it too, so they were extra careful in not doing anything that was against the regulations. Your mother was watching, you all knew.

Speaking of which, she did not try to make things better. She would wink, or make subtle little jokes, as she explained that it was good for business. You couldn’t help but press your mouth in a firm line.

You worked so hard, finding the perfect materials, ignoring your own discomfort as you bit the bullet and tried to focus on making the outfit snug and resilient, while the owners ignored your tense shoulders and set jaw. You were appalled, as they used alluring honeyed words, directed your attention to a “loose” fabric between their thighs, and so on.

You, feeling a surge of retaliation, growled out that it would cost extra for you to fix certain areas, and preferred that the outfit was on a mannequin, instead.

Your spitfire attitude had certainly weeded out a few of the unwanted customers, but, gained some more who thought it was a challenge. You didn’t miss the look of sheer pride from your mother, however, as she sported a wicked grin.

“That’ll teach them. Might make your blond a little less jealous.” She winked, and you paled in question. He was jealous? Of what? You were only doing your job, charging the dancers a certain amount, and giving your mother, your boss, a small part of the revenue as she requested. Although a thorn in your side, she was also a beautiful rose, and you knew that she was helping you in her own way, thus, opening your eyes more to the situation.

It didn’t take you long to realize, that yes, he was jealous, and you were too busy to acknowledge the possibility, until your mother had to basically tell you. So, you took your time to observe your surroundings.

Daggers for a stare had met each and everyone of the customers who had followed you into the fitting room, you’ve seen. While hosting, you started to take breaks to watch him, much to the oddly placed chagrin in the other dancers. His style was a little different, more suave and seductive, rather than downright dirty. Back against the pole, he slid up slowly as he jutted out his chin, staring at you through blond lashes while sucking suggestively at one of his suckers, hardly minding the crowd as he gave you a show that was basically personal.  

He was addictive, you couldn’t help but think. His outfits, dances, and downright attitude made the other’s shadow in comparison.

 It brought you back to the present. Your feet shuffled against the dirt as you pushed yourself on the swing, breathing out huffs of warm air that meshed with the chilly atmosphere.

 He didn’t make you feel too uncomfortable, either. He did make a request, to tuck in a few strings into his nurse outfit, you remembered it so clearly. He had strutted into your office around the right time, white fishnet stockings and heels blended in nicely with the light aqua blue fabric that left very little to the imagination.

“Jus’ some strings near the neck, Sugar. Might even give ya a sucker if ya behave.” He winked, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how corny it was, earning a smug smile and tinted cheeks. Although a little flirty, he stood perfectly still as you fixed the frayed mess that was near his clavicle, feeling his warmth resonate around you as you couldn’t help but seep it in. You hoped that he wouldn’t say anything about it. How you could feel a thundering, fast-paced heartbeat underneath your fingertips, despite his cocky facade, your face blushing immensely, or how the atmosphere seemed as if it might just break from underneath the metaphorical weight between the two of you.

However, true to his word, he began letting out pieces of information.

“We actually go to the same college.”

 You stopped to stare at him with full surprise.

“What? Really?”

“Well, ya graduated before I did, but I live near the campus. I…kinda saw ya every day. Not as a stalker!” He rushed before you could think of anything.

“-as in, my road to the school kinda passes your road, and I couldn’t help but not look away when ya were…ya know…It’s a very connected town, so I’ve seen ya…around.”

Then it hit you.

“Ah, so you must’ve seen me doing volunteer work?” You murmured, and he nodded.

“Well, yeah. You’re a familiar face. Couldn’t really ignore ya, ‘specially when you’re bein’ so wonderful half the damned time. Ya don’t know me, and I know it might be a lil’ creepy, but I promise ya that I don’t mean to be.” He babbled, face tinting a little more pink, and your ears burned from the forward acknowledged statement.  

So he noticed your volunteer work, and where you lived, and yet you didn’t really see him creeping around the bushes, or any tall figure of his build stalking around, for instance.

“So…is this why you have a sudden interest?” You asked, and you heard him swallow thickly.

“Pretty much. Doesn’t help that you’re kinda allurin’. Like a magnet.” He finished lamely, eyes shifting as he bit his bottom lip, and you couldn’t believe the shy signals that he was giving off as your own cheeks burned.

“Ah. Um…yeah.” You couldn’t help but say, and he snorted. You jutted your chin up and was about to give him a piece of your mind.

“We’re both kinda terrible at this. Anyways, that’s what I wanted to tell ya. Been seein’ ya around and makin’ the world a better place, an’ so I couldn’t help but like ya.” He waved off your short-lived glare as your expression softened.

“I don’t understand? You’re shy but not?” You questioned, nipping the small extra thread that you’ve already tucked in.

He shrugged.

“Emotions are emotions. Ya do things to me that I can’t explain, and I make ya into a flustered mess, and vice versa. I was at first too fuckin’ scared to really say or do anything, because the last thing I wanna be, is to be a creepy stalker in yer eyes.”

“I think I understand. As I don’t believe that you are a stalker…um…how do you? How did you-”

“Body language is a dead giveaway. Studyin’ to be a therapist. Plus, it’s relievin’ to get another validation that ya don’t find me creepy. ‘Specially after hearin’ my story.” He grinned, and your shoulders relaxed as you finished up your work.

“Ah, all done?” He pouted, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“You have another appointments, as well as my number.” You reasoned, and his eyes lit up.

“So, I could call ya?” He asked hopefully, and you found yourself nodding before you could comprehend what he said.

“Awesome. I’ll see ya around, Chickadee.” He hummed, digging into his wallet as he paid you upfront, letting his hand brush against yours, and yet you didn’t mind. All too fleeting, he sauntered away, but not before giving you a final look.

“The ball is in yer hands, in whichever ya want this to be. Although, I gotta up my game, if I wanna keep the competition at bay.” He winked, and then turned to leave the room. The wheels in your head had seemed to stop, before whirling again with realization.

So, he was aware of it all? The flirting and unwanted attention that you were gaining? As if he had to compete against anybody, you couldn’t help but think.

He wasn’t like the other “suitors” who were more aggressive and rude, you couldn’t help but think, your chest fluttering at the idea of him being your partner.

It’s been three days after that. You did shoot him a text, and almost immediately, he responded. He was forward with his interest, and you were still in a bit of confusion, why he, still a stranger, had decided to pursue you so quickly. You couldn’t help but think that the stars must have aligned in the both of your favor, or that it must have been fate, for you couldn’t help but start to like him, as well.

His forward approach, his respectful nature, the duality of his emotions, on how he could be so forward, and yet somehow kind of shy, he hunted at a distance, not too close or disrupting your boundaries, while never failing to look for you, or put on a show.

An excited voice rambled you out of your thoughts, a very, familiar excited voice, and your attention snapped towards the direction at the upcoming person, or people.

……………………………….

He sucked. He was a sucker, and he let his emotions get the best of him. Why did he have to spill out everything? Now she knew that he was an eager fool, and he didn’t mention the most important part; his two boys. Although not biologically his, blood didn’t matter, they were his sons.  

Of course, while in his interest in pursuing, he was so caught up with classes, dancing, and raising his kids, a lot of things had passed his mind. He remembered laying in the darkness of his bedroom, staring up at the ceiling as his heart clenched.

What if she was only attracted to his dancing? The two of them had never made plans to meet outside of work, and if they did, would she be turned off by his more shy attitude? His more softer, meeker side? Unwanted thoughts swirled within his head.

He was making a mistake, he was putting too much time into a woman who he barely knew, and if she did like him, would she like his boys? They would always be his first and top priority, he could never lower their needs before a potential future partner.

Growling, he picked up his phone, searching for her contact. He began typing, and re-typing as he made sure that the sentence sounded perfect.

Me: I know it’s late, but do ya wanna go to the park, tomorrow around 9 am?

He bit his lip and pressed send. It’ll just be a hang out, he told himself. He’ll bring his sons, and if she reacted negatively, he would stop cold. Maybe move to another club. It was his fault for not mentioning that he had kids, and he didn’t blame her for not wanting to deal with him for not telling her in the first place. She was an adult, she could make her own decisions, and children might not be her priority, and he could respect that. The fated ding of his phone pulled him out of his thoughts.

Chickadee: Sure. It’s supposed to be chilly, tomorrow, so wear something warm.

His cheeks felt like fire as his heart warmed up from the thoughtfulness. A chuckle escaped his throat. Even while texting, she still used proper grammar, and he couldn’t help but find that adorable. He kind of hoped that she wouldn’t be upset that he had kids, and he wouldn’t force her into anything that she didn’t want, if he did break it to her that he wanted to see her as a partner.

He was a dumb mess, he told himself. However, he wouldn’t mind to have her as a good friend, if anything else. He couldn’t help but like her, and she had a blunt, straight to the point attitude mixed in with that sweetness.

……………….

    “-lunch lady?!” A voice gasped in shock, the three familiar figures caught your full attention. Time stood still as you recognized the two small boys instantly, and behind them, stood none other than Taishiro. Surprise had hit you, but you couldn’t help but feel joy as little arms wrapped around your leg as you stopped the swing, seeing Eijirou glanced up at you with a toothy smile and bright eyes.

You couldn’t help but smile, pinching his cheeks a little as he giggled.  

“Hey, um, small world?” Taishiro asked, breaking you out of your trance.

“I volunteered at the orphanage a while back. That’s amazing, I’m so glad to you two, again.” You explained, looking at the boys.

“It’s good to see you, as well.” Tamaki said softly, and you smiled at the slightly older boy who gripped Taishiro’s jacket.  

“Oh, that’s pretty neat. Ya were in dietary?” He asked, sitting down on the swing next to you, Tamaki following closely. You looked down a bit shyly.

“Um, yeah. They were kind of short staffed, that year, and I was a pretty familiar face, so they asked, and I said yes.” You rambled, and he chuckled.

“You’re right about the pretty part.” He winked, and you huffed out a surprised laugh.

“Do you ever not flirt?” You inquired, and he grinned.

“I don’t flirt as much as ya think. Anyways, I wanted to know, if ya like to hang out with us, for the day?” He murmured softly at the end, and you felt yourself smile a little.

“I’d like to. It’s been a while since I’ve seen the boys. Although I missed the children, I couldn’t really stay, had college to go through, you know? It’s good that they’ve been adopted.” You rambled, watching Tamaki push Eijirou gently on the swing next to yours, the shyest of smiles graced the raven-hair’s features as the two were basically in their own little world.

“When I first came to this town, I didn’t really have anybody. So I took some time to think it over, and decided to adopt. They’ve been the light of my life for three years, now. Can’t imagine bein’ without ‘em.” He said softly, and you felt a burst of warmth envelop you.

“It’s good that they have a good dad. Do they know of your-?” You let the sentence hang, and he shook his head.

“Later. I doubt that they’ll judge, but I don’t want ‘em to know, just yet.”

It surprised you on how easy it was to make small talk, each of you opening up a little bit more. You fixed Tamaki’s coat, brushing the hair out of his eyes slightly when Taishiro had offered the group to get hot chocolate from the coffee shop that was near, chuckling as Eijirou’s eyes widened with pure glee.

Tamaki gripped your hand, Eijirou gripped Taishiro’s, and Taishiro held your free hand as the four of you crossed the street, and you couldn’t help but feel warmth at the domesticated atmosphere within your little group.

You wouldn’t mind if these sudden feelings stayed a little while longer.