#and i was younger than everyone else + the ony one from my school

[cruelsister-moved2]

honestly really miss playing in an orchestra but i miss the county youth orchestras i played in as a kid & never practised & sightread all my music on the day & it was fine like the stress of adult orchestras is not for me but you never come across like an adult amateur orchestra but still a proper orchestra u know.... like i miss the hugeness of being in an orchestra and having 50+ instruments surround you :(

[lloydskywalkers]

hey idk if you’re doing requests but if you are can you give us the fluffy kai and lloyd sibling content we deserve?? like ummm maybe kai helping lloyd to do homework or something even tho they don’t go to school lmao 😂 i just need something pure :)

i am so very behind on replies but!! in my defense, i started a response for this, got about 10K words in, then realized i needed to give it an actual structure. this is not the 10K words one, but it is, technically, fluffy Kai and Lloyd sibling content? i hope it’s something along the lines of what you wanted :’D

Lloyd decides he wants his ear pierced at three forty-five in the debatable hours of the morning, which isn’t the oddest thing Lloyd has ever decided he desires at that time. But it isn’t usual, either, so Kai decides he probably does, at least, need to ask what brought this on as he begins superheating the edge of the needle so neither of them end up with tetanus, or something.

He’s a responsible brother, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to tell Lloyd no. That would require Kai pretending his own piercing never existed, which is impossible, since Lloyd was the one to help him out back when it got infected and Kai almost lost his entire upper ear.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Lloyd rolls his eyes. “You were just being a baby about it.”

“Oh yeah?” Kai shoots back. “Look who’s talking. I haven’t even touched your ear yet and you’re already wincing.”

“You’re taking forever,” Lloyd says testily. “Why can’t you just pierce it already?”

“Excuse me for trying to make it look good,” Kai says. “But if you really want an off-center piercing, be my guest.”

“No, no, make it look good,” Lloyd protests, straightening where he’s sitting across the bedroom floor from Kai.

Fortunately, they’re in the monastery tonight, otherwise they’d be crammed into the bathroom, or wherever else in the Bounty they wouldn’t wake everyone up. They’ve stashed away in Lloyd’s room, since he’s the furthest from Zane and therefore the least likely to be caught, if something goes wrong. Not that anything’s going to go wrong, of course, but you can never be sure, with them.

“Where’d you want it, again?” Kai asks, as he squints at the tiny earring stud they scavenged from Nya’s bag. He figures she’d support this as a worthy cause enough not to mind. Hopefully.

“On the right side?” Lloyd drums his fingers on the edge of his knee, a bit anxiously. “I sleep on my left more often, so yeah, the right. Just — just the normal ear piercing, for now.”

“For now, huh,” Kai mutters, carefully measuring out rubbing alcohol over the earring, before deciding to drown it in the bottle, for good measure.

“Well, I might decide I want another,” Lloyd crosses his arms. He winces. “Unless Sensei or the others kill me for this, first.”

“Lloyd, if piercing your ear is the worst thing you ever do as a teen, I’ll give you all the piercings you want myself,” Kai says. “And if anybody gives you trouble about it, just make some snarky comment, like, ah—”

“An earring is better to be stabbed with than a knife?”

“…FSM’s sake,” Kai sighs, staring at the bottle of rubbing alcohol and briefly entertaining how it’d taste. “Sure. Why not.”

Lloyd doesn’t look entirely reassured, even with his fun little jokes. “It is better than being stabbed with a knife, right?” he asks. “Like, I can do knife-stab pain, but I was kinda hoping it wouldn’t hurt that bad, you know…?”

Kai rolls his eyes. “It’ll hardly hurt at all,” he assures him, as he reaches for the little cotton balls and soaking one in alcohol. “I promise. You’re a ninja. With the pain tolerance you have, you’re probably not even gonna feel it.”

“Uh-huh, if you say — hey!” Lloyd flinches back from his hand, eyes wide in betrayal.

“Would you relax, it’s just the alcohol,” Kai frowns, going for his ear with the cotton ball again.

Lloyd makes a face, but lets him dab the alcohol on this time. “It’s cold,” he complains.

“Keep whining about it and we’re going back to the clip-on earring plan.”

“No, no, I want them pierced,” Lloyd says quickly. Kai smothers a laugh at how he attempts to appear relaxed, swiping the cotton ball over his earlobe once more for good measure. Satisfied that Lloyd, at least, won’t suffer any immediate crippling infections, Kai grabs for the needle they’re using, soaking the tip in alcohol.

“You…you know what you’re doing, right?” Lloyd asks, suddenly apprehensive now that the needle’s come into play.

“Of course I do, who do you think I am?” Kai says. “I pierced Nya’s ears when she was younger. I would’ve pierced Jay’s the first week we met, but he chickened out last minute.”

Lloyd presses his lips together, hiding a laugh. “If you’d come up to me with a needle the first week we met, I probably would’ve booked it, too.”

“I wasn’t bad,” Kai huffs, kneeing him in the side.

Lloyd runs a hand through his hair, spiking the edges up as he scowls, pitching his voice deeper. “I’m gonna be the green ninja, and none of you losers better get in the way—”

“I never said that!” Kai exclaims, swatting Lloyd across the head as he cackles. “You watch it, or I might slip up with the needle.”

“Sounds like something a green gi-stealer would say.”

“You’re such a brat,” Kai grumbles, hiding the heat rising in his cheeks by busying himself with the earring packaging. “I never sounded like that. And you’re one to talk, with that squeaky little evil laugh you used to do.”

“Alright, I’m dropping it, I’m dropping it,” Lloyd says hastily, his teasing faltering at the threat of turning the tables.

Kai smirks, shaking his head. “Alright,” he says, flexing his wrist once. “I’m gonna ice your ear so it’s numb, then do the actual piercing. You want a count down?”

“Surprise me,” Lloyd says, his hands fisting anxiously in the edges of his sweatshirt.

“Sure thing,” Kai nods absently. “So,” he starts conversationally, as he presses the ice to the back of Lloyd’s ear. “What did bring this on? And don’t give me the teen rebellion thing — seriously, this time.”

Lloyd hesitates, then sighs. He bites his lip, his eyes staring somewhere beyond the ceiling. “I dunno,” he mutters. “I just remembered, the other day, that I’d thought they were super cool as a kid.”

Kai stifles the urge to remind him that he’s still a kid, and continues to listen instead, nodding at him to go on.

Lloyd makes a face. “I don’t know. The mission today was — it was dumb, and I didn’t like how I felt afterwards, so I guess I wanted to do something stupid.”

“Ah,” Kai exhales quietly. He’d had a feeling it was about the mission, but he couldn’t be sure. It hadn’t even been that bad, on the whole, but the sound of Cole’s head cracking against the floor was enough to escalate it right into terrible territory.

Kai’s still thanking his stars that Cole’s got such a thick head. Concussions aren’t fun, even when they do have the chance to treat them immediately.

“I just…I thought maybe it’d be nice to mess up on purpose, for once,” Lloyd continues, his voice quiet. “When I wasn’t trying not to.”

Kai’s frown deepens at that one, his hand hovering where he’s caught the edge of Lloyd’s ear, his thumb pressed against the end of the needle. His sudden concerns over Lloyd’s potentially earring-destroying, Oni/dragon blood are swept away by the plaintively depressing tone Lloyd’s using. He opens his mouth, then shuts it, hesitating.  

He understands the sentiment, of course — probably too well to really put into words. Kai’s not exactly a stranger to messing up. He’s definitely not a stranger to beating yourself up after you mess up, either. He also understands, too well, how it can all build up sometimes — the constant fear of failure, the pressure not to mess up.

Sometimes you’re just struck with the irrational desire to mess up on purpose out of pure spite. Kai gets that. And Lloyd’s at least rational enough to pick something that won’t hurt anyone, and is more likely to get a laugh out of them all, if anything. Kai tries not to roll his eyes fondly.

Plus, Kai would be lying if he said it doesn’t warm his heart that Lloyd’s come to him for it. Which he should, of course, Kai’d better have first dibs on Lloyd’s first piercing, but still. The sentiment, and all.

“Well,” Kai finally says, realizing he’s left Lloyd hanging. “I don’t know about messing up, because this looks pretty rad. But it was definitely your call, so remember to tell Sensei that when he sees it.”

“Yeah, sure.” Lloyd takes a breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “Okay, I’m ready. Stab my ear, Kai.”

“I already did, moron. Did you miss what I just said?”

Lloyd’s eyes pop open, and he blinks. “Huh? For real?”

“Told you,” Kai snorts. “Ninja pain tolerance. Ear piercing’s got nothing on Cole when he scores a hit on you in practice.”

Lloyd’s frozen for a moment, then he scurries over to the mirror, brushing his lengthening hair away so he can get a proper look at it. Kai hovers behind him, suddenly slightly anxious.

“Do you, um, do you like it? You can always take it out, if you don’t. It’ll close over on its own, and you can like, get an actual professional to do it—”

“Shut up, Kai, I love it,” Lloyd beams, tracing his finger over the little silver stud. “I look cool.”

Kai lets out a tiny breath of relief, smirking in satisfaction instead. “As close to cool as you can get, beansprout.”

“Whatever,” Lloyd rolls his eyes, before returning to admiring himself in the mirror. “You’re just jealous I have a super cool piercing, and you don’t.”

“Hey, I gave you that piercing,” Kai scowls. “Just wait until my ear finally heals, I’ll show you cool.”

“Gee, yeah, I can’t wait to see what cheap skull earring you infect yourself with this time.”

“Alright buddy, you’re toeing it dangerously close to the line,” Kai grabs Lloyd in a headlock, digging his knuckles into Lloyd’s thick hair as he yelps, struggling to pull himself free.

“Ow, hey, Kai, watch my ear—”

“Little jerk,” Kai finally releases him with a huff.

“Too bad you’re stuck with me forever,” Lloyd replies, making a face as he brushes his hair back into place.

“Plenty of time to watch you make more mistakes, then,” Kai replies, easily.

Lloyd briefly tenses up, his expression working. Kai slings an arm around his shoulder, briefly squeezing.

“It wasn’t your fault, Lloyd,” he says, gently. “Cole’s gonna tell you the same thing, ten times over.”

“Y-yeah, okay,” Lloyd murmurs, staring at the rug. “I got it.”

Kai eyes him for a brief moment, then shakes his head, carefully flicking the edge of his ear. “This, however? Is definitely your fault. So don’t go selling me out when Sensei bites your head off for it.”

“I’m not a sellout,” Lloyd huffs. “This’ll be nothing. Wait ’til you see what he says about my tattoo, that’ll be the real meltdown.”

Kai barks a laugh out at that, sweeping the cotton balls back into the bag. He then pauses, Lloyd’s word choice hitting him.

“Hey, what do you mean, your tattoo.”

“Oh, would you look at the time—”

“Lloyd, I swear to FSM, if you went and got a tattoo without me—”

[ihaveafandom-problem554]

Unfinished Draft

Ok so I feel bad for not posting anything lately.. So I’m giving you something I had in my drafts for a while now that I don’t feel like finishing.

Note that this is old, unfinished and probably unedited...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Characters: Mother Y/n, Rui, spider older sister, Mother Y/n’s son BB(That’s his nickname), Mother Y/n’s Daughter Aiko.

Small background information: 

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“Aww, Rui you’ll finally have some company while I’m gone” you say patting Rui’s head.

He wasn’t smiling like he usually would when you gave him affection. Instead he was frowning.

“Hunny aren’t you happy-” “Mom, school!” Your daughter called. “Get in the car I’ll be there in a sec!” You call back.

“BB is gonna come home early today, so if you want some food just ask him, ok?” He doesn’t answer. He just stares into your soul… Now you known him long enough to read that expression.

He was pissed. And you don’t know why.

You gave him his morning hug, kissed his forehead, did his hair.. Fuck- you even let him sit of your lap when he ate. So why is he so mad?

You didn’t have time to figure out. You had to drop your daughter off at school and go to work. You kissed his head once more and left.

…

“Human affections weird.." 

"WHY are you here?!” Rui demanded at his previous older spider sister. “Well..” She walks over to the couch and admires the color. “After you told me and the rest of the family that we were free and we could leave or keep the house… Everyone had plans and knew where to go.." 

”…And?“ 

"I didn’t. I wanted to stay the house, but I thought it would be unworthy to my younger brother. I do have to protect you-" 

 "I don’t need your protection. You were terrible at it in the first place. This is a family of HUMANS and they are better at protecting me than the old family combined.”

Oni(The older spider sister’s name) huffed and plopped down on the couch. “I’m sorry we weren’t perfect for you, some families has there flaws”

Rui scoffed. “Not this one.” he mumbled, trying to keep a straight face as the memory of you taking him in, crept in. “When are you leaving…”

Oni looked down. Preparing herself for Rui’s next action. “I’m not.”

…

Rui’s head slowly turned. “What.” “I’m not leaving.” “Sorry, I don’t think I’m hearing you correctly..Your what???” His voice sounds like he’s smiling but he isn’t. His face reads very threatening comments.

“I’m not leaving..And you said it yourself.. You have no authority over us anymore.. We are free to make our own decisions a-and I decided I wanted to stay with yo-AHH” Oni Screamed as a flower pot was being thrown in her direction. “RUI WHAT THE HELL!? ISN’T IT LIVING!?" 

"IT’S FAKE!” Rui yelled back, now pissed that he missed. “You aren’t supposed to be here! Your ruining the Family!”

“I just got here!" 

"And your making a mess!" 

"YOU THREW THE POT!" 

"AND I WILL THROW ANOTHER ONE IF YOU DON’T LEAVE!" 

"I ALREADY TOLD YOU I CAN’T!" 

"AND WHY IS THAT!?" 

"BECAUSE I ALREADY TOLD THE MOTHER HUMAN THAT WE WERE SIBLINGS!”

…

Oni ran like her life depended on it. Which in this situation… It did. 

Rui chased her around the house, his threads forming out of rage. When he told his old family that they were free of his control, he was hoping he would never see them again. He didn’t want to see those disappointments anymore. He was living a happier life with humans and he wanted to make every second count. His fury and anger rose at the thought of him now having to share a life with Oni. She would need affection, and when she gets it she’s going to love it and beg for more. Not leaving any for him. Not to mention she will be getting more attention now that she was the new addition to the family. God I knew I should’ve killed them off instead..

Hours passed, and Oni was still running for dear life. “RUI PLEASE SPARE ME! IT WAS ALMOST DAY AND I WASN’T THINKING AT THE TIME AND IT SLIPPED!”

“YOUR JUST MAKING EXCUSES! THIS IS UNFORGIVABLE, I SHOULD’VE JUST KILLED YOU WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!” 

Oni thought this was going to be the end of her if it wasn’t for someone opening the door.

“Rui! I’m home! I also got some food… I know your into human meat, but you should really try this- RUI!”

Rui stopped at the sudden mention of his name. Oni, from a distance, stopped too, watch as Rui walked away from her. She sighed in relief and began to slowly followed Rui.

She saw a man- no no, it was a boy, but tall. And he looked a lot like the human mother.. He was tapping his foot and had a couple bags filled with something that, smelled really nice.

“Why is there dirt all over the couch?” He asked. “It was Oni” Rui said, while on his toes trying to see what was in the bag. “Oni? who’s.. Oh hi there! Mom told me about you.” Oni was put at ease at the boy’s presence

Rui rolled his eyes. “She dirty the couch.” “a-ah?! It- It was because-” Rui shot a glare at Oni, shutting her up immediately.

BB let out a sigh. “It’s ok I’ll clean it up- ah Rui give me a second I’ll show you the foods right after I clean the couch-” “I- I’ll clean it!” Oni offered. she was blamed for the mess, of course he would believe Rui, he lived there longer. So why not do someone else’s bidding?

“No-no I’ll clean it-” “NO! Please I made the mess-” “No it’s fine you don’t know the right supplies for this in the first place, go into the kitchen with Rui, I’ll be there in a second.”

Oni tried to argue but failed, now forced to sit in the same room as her brother.

…

Uncomfortable silence fills the room. Rui staring at Oni with a expression that could kill and Oni doing everything she could to distract herself. Oh! what’s that? She thought to herself. There was a picture of the whole family, but without Rui.. It must be a older picture..

But something was off. The picture didn’t fit the whole frame.. and taking a closer look.. There was a hand on the human mother’s shoulder, but neither of which belonged to the human children.

She had to take a closer look. “What are you doing?” Rui asked flatly, but Oni didn’t answer, her only thoughts where on the picture.

Getting closer to the photo, she noticed it was ripped. Oni took a note.

Question 1: was it an accident or was it on purpose?.. The edge looks rigid but it’s perfectly straight. No way that was an accident.

Question 2: Who does the hand belong to?

Oni reached her hand over to grab the frame.

“Don’t touch that.” The voice didn’t sound like Rui’s.. Oni felt someone’s hand lift her hand and led her to the table where Rui was out. She looked up and saw a dead soul looking back at her. “The frame is really fragile.. I don’t want broken glass all over the floor. Mom would be mad..” BB replaces his cold stare with a smile. “o-ok, uh-um what’s in the bag?”

“Just some snacks I thought Rui would like.. But I think he’ll be nice and share..” BB claims, he was wrong but he didn’t need to know that.

“This is Puku-Puku Tai Salt watermelon. I don’t really like this flavor but I think you might like it.” BB explains while handing The Puku-Puku Tai to the two spider looking beings.

Taking a bite at the same time, they both had different reactions. Rui didn’t like the random taste of watermelon with the mix of chocolate, at the same time he didn’t want to be rude. His older brother took the effort to go and buy him some snacks so he can ease his human cravings.. he tried his best to finish the snack, but his pouty expression gave away his true thoughts on the snack.

“Aww, you don’t like it Rui?” BB pouts, patting Rui’s head. Rui puts down the snack and shakes his head. “Aww, it’s ok.. At least Oni likes it.” “What.” Rui asks pissed looking over at Oni who had finished her second Puku Puku Tai, looking in the bag to get another one.

“Wait, I got others to show you”

[that-was-anticlimactic]

it’s three am and I should I be asleep but today is the ten year anniversary of Ninjago and I’m just... so so so happy and full of genuine joy. Ninjago is the reason I joined tumblr (even if I’m more atla now, I will always be Ninjago at my core), Ninjago is the reason I began to write as much as I do now, Ninjago helped me realize third person was my writing strong suite. Ninjago is... so much to me. I was there in 2011 when it started and I remember all of the raw emotions I felt watching the show.

Finding out Lloyd was the green ninja. The ninja getting younger and Lloyd growing older. Crying at the season two finale when Lloyd broke his leg and the rest of his team got hit and turned evil. I remember being devestated when Zane died. And being so happy when he came back. I vividly remember being in the car to Dairy Queen when I was in eighth grade when I first found out Cole became a ghost and I remember watching season five in other languages on YouTube just to see what happened.

I remember sitting on my bed crying over The Last Resort. I remember the fandom screaming when Maya and Ray entered the picture and when Lloyd said “Twins look alike”. I remember everyone guessing who Samurai X would be and who the baby was. I remember episode 92 of Ninjago when Harumi died and I remember saying “the resistance never quits” and feeling such power and confidence in myself. I remember crying when Cole fell— not just because he’s my favorite character, but also because Ninjago handled that scene so well. I remember learning the scene when Lloyd finds out Cole fell in asl and rewatching that scene at least twenty times a day. I remember telling my math teacher that episode 98 of Ninjago would be live-streamed during her class (senior year of high school) and that I had to watch it because I have been so mentally distraught about the fall all week and her kids loved the show too so she let me and I actually cried in class when Lloyd “died”.

I remember learning about Ninjago anime through tumblr. I remember screeching when Cole had the nightmares about falling and when Zane was the Ice Emperor. I remember getting so excited when I found out Scott and FugiDove were voiced by Adrian Petriw and that Cole fell once more. I remember season thirteen coming out and crying again because Cole finally has a season and it was so freaking good. I remember learning that Kirby Morrow died on November 19th, 2020.

I remember a family. I remember a passion. I remember the home I never felt like I had. I remember the true potential episodes. “I know who I am”, “you are the best you”, “I’m proud of who I am and I want you to be proud too”, “I knew when I had to make a choice”. I remember “we are so hooped”.

I remember love and heartbreak, tears and joy. I remember that the best way to defeat your enemy is to make them your friend. I remember bequeath. I remember “this isn’t about numbers, it’s about family!”. I remember Jay essentially telling Cole that his feelings for him are stronger than his feelings for his girlfriend. I remember “Chen can try his best to split up our team, but he’s about to find out what happens when we put ourselves back together”. I remember that as iron sharpens iron, brother sharpens brother. I will always remember the iconic “that was anticlimactic” from Kai.

I remember “save me, Jay Walker. There’s gonna be a wedding and I want you to do something about it”. I remember that if you want soenhnjng bad enough, you find a way to make it happen. I remember Day of the Departed and how kind Cole was to Yang, how he regained his mortality and was left with his scar. I remember Cole’s relationship with Wu, how close of a bond they had. I remember getting literal chills from Britt McKillip singing “spider’s in the house, sleep, sleep. Spider bit the mouse, sleep deep. Don’t wake up or else you’ll find a spider in your mouth”. I remember laughing so hard when Cole was singing as Rock Dangerbuff. I remember Jay going mad in the realm of Oni and Dragon. I remember seeing the bones of the Ultra Dragon. I remember being so excited to see the elemental masters (and Darreth) again. I remember “there’s more to life than surviving!”.

I remember being so happy to learn that s11-13 were going to happen. I remember Vex and Akita, Unagami and Scott, The Skull Sorcerer and Vania (the Geckles and Munce). I remember Lilly. I remember.

I remember Ninjago, a show that means more to me than I can fit into words. I remember a silly television show that changed my entire life. I remember characters who brought me joy when no one else could.

So I thank Cole, Kai, Jay, Zane, Lloyd, Nya, Pixal, Skylor, Garmadon, Wu (sometimes— if he’s not hiding stuff😂), Misako, Darreth, Ronin, Pythor, the other Elemental Masters, Cyrus Borg, Dr. Julien, Lou, Ray and Maya, Ed and Edna (I love them), Morro, Harumi, The Overlord, Mystake, Faith, and so many other characters.

Thank you, Kirby Morrow, Vincent Tong, Brent Miller, Michael Adamthwaite, Kelly Metzger, Jillian Michaels, Sam Vincent, Paul / Michael / Brian Dobson, Mark Oliver, Kathleen Barr, Jennifer Hayward, Heather Doerksen, Alan Marriott, Andrew Francis, Ian James Corlett, Britt McKillip, Scott McNeil, Tabitha St Germain, Lee Tockar, and so so so many others.

To Dan and Kevin Hageman, Tommy Andreasen, The Fold: thank you so much.

[triggeringthehealing]

Happy New Year

Derek/Stiles || PG || ~2k || AO3 Summary: Once upon a time, the loft was where Stiles was asked if he liked boys. Now, years later, he knows he does.  A/N: Written for the @fullmoonficlet challenge - prompt #361: kiss 

For the first time since that one blacklight party, the loft is filled with the sounds of electronica and more noise than it has heard in years. Stiles didn't even know that Derek still owned the building until he got the text message from Scott about the party that was planned in it for New Year's Eve this year.

They're all back, the whole pack, for the first time in years. Until now, every holiday there was someone missing, someone who couldn't make it back to Beacon Hills for some reason. Stiles himself only barely made it back while he was in college and then in FBI's training academy. Now that he's working, it's not easy to get time off either but since he's been assigned to the California office as a liaison for all things supernatural, it's been a little less complicated to visit his dad and meet up with everyone else.

The pack being what it is and scattered across the world as it is, they're all involved with the Bureau in one way or another -- Lydia consults at the HQ in DC, Scott's holding down the fort locally, Jackson and Ethan work with MI5 in London, even Isaac has helped a few times in France after Chris suggested him to Interpol. Stiles doesn't hear from Cora or Peter much but he knows that at least one of the Hales has their fingers in cases involving creatures of the night. He's not even trying to guess what Peter is up to though.

The younger pack members are not permanently in town anymore though they do visit more often. Kira's parents moved back to New York but she's nearby since her training with the Skinwalkers continues now, though no longer on a permanent basis now that she's better able to control her inner fox. Mason and Corey went to the east coast for college but Liam stayed home, following in Scott's footsteps into the veterinary career.

Tonight, they're all here though, along with friends they've made since on their varied paths. When Jackson and Ethan showed up with Danny in tow, Stiles refused to ask questions lest they prompt ones about his own father and the relationship that Stiles tries really hard not to pay attention to. The older generation is here tonight too, from the pack's parents to Jordan and even Coach who hasn't moved from Natalie Martin's side.

Stiles is still taking in in, though he's been here since early afternoon as everyone started arriving and the music started. The building is vibrating with the bass line and the lights are off, letting the UV paint glow on everyone's faces and bodies as they move to the rhythm. A lot of those who can be drunk are definitely getting to the limit of what they can handle -- not Stiles's dad or Melissa, who seem to be content to be the holders of keys and unofficial chaperones, not that this is a high school dance -- and those who don't feel the effects of alcohol are following the others' lead to keep the pretense.

There are enough strangers that the pack is keeping their supernatural side under wraps. Stiles figures that once it's a little past midnight, only those in the know will stay and the claws and fangs will be more likely to come out. Especially since the next full moon is not too far.

But there's one person Stiles has barely seen all night, even though it's his building and his loft. And they're all here with his permission, unlike during the previous party that happened here, the one that Stiles remembers all too clearly. This one is not likely to be interrupted by Oni, at least.

When he's had his fill of catching up with everyone and his eyes begin to blur from the strobe lights, Stiles decides that it's time to get away from it all. Instead of leaving altogether -- midnight is close and he figures at least some of the others will be looking for him then -- he heads for the balcony where he knows the glass will keep the noise away.

It takes him a moment to realize that he's not alone out there. He spots a dark figure leaning on the half wall on the far side of the balcony, looking out at the town's warehouse district, now rebuilt into an area filled with shops and office spaces, even some residential buildings. When he was driving to the loft earlier, it took Stiles a while to process how much this part of Beacon Hills has changed from the place he knew and how little resemblance it has to the derelict space where they've fought more fights than he can count.

"You hiding?" Stiles asks quietly, knowing he'll be heard.

Derek turns his head and light hits his face, revealing an amused expression.

"Just looking for quiet," he answers. "Guess that plan didn't go too well," he adds and the corner of his lips twitches.

"I can leave you be," Stiles says, though something in his chest twists uncomfortably at the thought of being unwanted, especially right here and now.

"No, don't," Derek tells him, a little faster than Stiles would have let himself hope. "I was kidding."

"Okay."

Stiles walks closer though he keeps his distance still, leaning on the balcony a few feet away from Derek and looking down over the edge.

"Looks different down there."

Derek hums in agreement, mirroring Stiles's position.

"So, how's the academy going?" Stiles asks a few moments later.

It's not that he can't deal with silence, he's learned to master it, especially in his work -- interrogation isn't always about rambling, he realized during his training -- but this one feels different. Loaded. Tense. Like there are words that want to be spoken, words that should have been said before. It doesn't feel wrong but it doesn't feel completely right either. And then, he's also genuinely curious about Derek's progress at the police academy because Stiles is still a little amazed that his father managed to pull the necessary strings and got Derek enrolled.

He's even more amazed that Derek agreed to going through the full training and becoming a fully trained and licensed officer.

"It's fine. Final tests are coming up in a few months and then I'll have to get some experience done," Derek answers easily, with no hesitation.

"Don't you already have hours clocked here?"

"Those count for some of it," Derek says. "But I'll need to do some work in a different station. Probably to prove that I'm not skating or being given favors."

"Ha. Like Dad would ever let anyone get away with that," Stiles replies, chuckling.

"You know that, I know that. Jordan knows that. But the rules are the rules and to get my badge I'll have to work elsewhere for a while," Derek says, his shoulders rising in a shrug.

"Got any ideas yet where you'll go?"

"Six months in Sacramento. Another six in Baltimore"

"Oh wow, do they hate you so much?"

Derek lets out a chuckle and shakes his head.

"Those were my choices, actually," he says as he turns to Stiles.

"Why there? I mean, I bet there were places that would have been easier. I get Sacramento, it's not too far, but Baltimore?"

"It's close to Quantico and DC."

Stiles's head turns before he can think about it and he stares at Derek, trying to read the expression in his face. It's not easy, there's light but it's not bright and even if it was, Derek's never been one to give away his thoughts or emotions. There's something there that Stiles knows he's not seeing, something he probably should know. Something that he maybe just doesn't want to think about, lest he lets his hopes rise up.

He wants to be at least part of the reason for Derek's choice. A moment of quick math in his mind tells him that the timing fits, he's in the California office for the upcoming year but he'll be back at HQ right about when Derek's in Baltimore. Not for all of those six months but most of them, as they're going to be working on a full department for investigations focused on the supernatural. Stiles has been talking about it with the pack for months now, excited about being given the lead on the projects even though it means mountains of paperwork.

"Derek."

The name slips from Stiles's lips easily but it's barely a whisper. It's a plea and a wish rolled into five letters, a question and an answer all in one.

"If you don't want me to be around, I can request New York," Derek says, his face flashing with what Stiles can only see as disappointment.

Stiles doesn't hesitate. Doesn't let himself think about a response because there's only one.

"I do," he blurts out. "I mean, if that's what you want, I definitely do want you to be there."

"For the job?"

Now, Stiles pauses. Then he takes a breath and lets his thoughts flow right to his lips.

"I won't lie, you have connections that anyone in the Bureau can only dream about. Only Deaton's better linked to the side of the world that we'll need to reach," Stiles says but he doesn't give Derek a chance to look any more disappointed before he continues. "But that's not the main reason. Not why I'd want you to be in the area. As long as it's not permanent because I will be coming back to this side of the country once the department is up and running."

"Your father said that if Jordan's in office by the time I'm ready, he's under strict orders to give me a job," Derek says, grinning. "I have no doubt that I'll have a position here whenever."

"Good. Because I hated being across the country."

"From here?"

There's something in Derek's face now that Stiles allows himself to read clearly. Something that he himself feels and doesn't want to ignore anymore. It's hope.

"Not the town, no."

Stiles moves along the balcony and the distance closes fast as Derek moves too.

It's been years coming, a long time of Stiles pushing down hope and trying not to wonder whether Derek felt the same. Years of no relationship feeling right. It feels like a dream and because of past experiences, Stiles lifts a hand up and automatically counts his fingers like he used to do.

"Five," Derek whispers and reaches for Stiles's hand, then links their fingers together.

"Huh?"

"Five fingers. Mine too."

"Oh."

Stiles reminds himself to breathe as they stand face to face, barely any space between them. Then, as if on cue, voices come from inside, shouting numbers in unison, one after another, starting from thirty. For a few of them, up to twenty five, Stiles wonders how they're coming through the thickness of the recently installed glass but then all thoughts vanish from his mind as he sees the look in Derek's eyes.

"New year," Stiles whispers.

There's a question in the word and an answer and more information than he knows how to put in words. Derek's looking the way Stiles had hoped to see him for years, expectant and hoping, close enough that Stiles can feel warm breath on his own face. Without thinking, he leans in and closes his eyes for a beat, then opens them again and finds Derek's eyes only a couple of inches away.

"Okay?"

It's Derek who asks permission. Stiles nods and then holds his breath as their lips meet with one last movement closer. From inside, the countdown shouting continues, five, four, three, two, one, then a chorus of wishes for a happy new year. It's all white noise to Stiles though, blood rushing through his ears as he moves his lips against Derek's, their fingers linked and Derek's squeezing like he doesn't want to let go. Stiles moves his free hand to Derek's waist and his fingertips dig into the soft fabric of the T-shirt's thin layer separating him from Derek's skin.

When he feels Derek's tongue on his lip, Stiles can't fight the low moan that builds in his chest. He doesn't want to pull away, wants to stay in this moment forever or at least as long as they can. He's afraid to let go, to break the silence and the moment they're having. But his lungs eventually scream for air, unsatisfied with what he's getting into them. So with reluctance he stops kissing Derek and slowly pulls away, closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths as he processes what just happened. He feels Derek's forehead against his own and the warmth of a palm on his cheek, then a thumb moving in a gentle stroke.

Another moment later, Stiles opens his eyes and looks into Derek's.

"Hey," he whispers.

"Hey."

"So. This happened."

"Yeah."

"What now?"

Neither of them has a chance to say anything anymore because the balcony door bursts open and when Stiles turns away from Derek and toward the noise, he sees Liam in the doorframe, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, looking apologetic.

"Whoops, sorry, interrupted something, you do you. Or each other. Don't mind me," Liam blurts out and backs away, closing the door again.

Moments later there's whooping from inside, loud enough again to reach them through the glass.

"This there was betting going on?" Stiles asks when it's quieter again.

Derek pauses and closes his eyes, obviously listening to the others, the corner of his lips curling as he does.

"Definitely. Your dad's not happy. Lydia won."

"Naturally."

"So, do we want to brave the wolf's den?" Stiles asks.

HIs fingers twitch against Derek's T-shirt when he's pulled in closer, Derek's palm just above his waist.

"I think we can wait another while. Maybe they'll leave us be," Derek says, smiling.

"And then pigs will fly," Stiles answers. "But I'll take what I can get. Tonight."

He leans forward and kisses Derek again. They might not have much more of this private moment, of the magical bubble where it's only them and no interfering or curious pack members. It's enough for now though because it's only the beginning and if Stiles has anything to do with it, it's the start of forever.

For right now, he's done worrying and done thinking, done wondering and hoping. He's got everything right here. With the way Derek is kissing back and holding Stiles close, Stiles knows that he's not the only one. It's a new year, a new start, and it's good.

[powermetalhag]

Digging Deeper

 @alienfuckeronmain​ tagged me in this massive tag meme (Thank you!! I love doing these things). If I tag you, feel free to ignore this if you don’t feel up to doing it/reading it. If you aren’t tagged and want to be, feel free to just say I tagged you ❤

I tag: @flowerkitten @meemimajima @darlingdear @wizards1977 @violet-tea @lickthatbattery @lusamine @misfit-on-a-journey @lampshroomomg @cyrsed @wooden-duck @wildbayou @curse-you @ghostly-rowlf​ @icedchailatte​ @oni-lover​

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? black

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? City

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? I’d love to be able to sing and metal-scream really well. I’m trying to learn but I practice pretty inconsistently and it’s an uphill battle bc I don’t have much natural aptitude for it. Also it would be really cool to be a contortionist. 

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? I don’t drink coffee. Sometimes I sweeten tea, sometimes I don’t.

5. What was your favourite book as a child? I didn’t like reading books much as a child. When it came to reading novels, my reading comprehension was pretty below average (I think I posted about this ages ago, but when I tried to read Harry potter when I was 7 I couldn’t follow it at all. I somehow thought that Harry and Hagrid were the same character and that Hagrid was just the name for Harry’s Wizard self. My concentration just wasn’t there). I read a lot of manga though. I think my favourites were fushigi yuugi, saint tail, and miracle girls.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? showers.

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? Hobbit

8. Paper or electronic books? I prefer paper books, but I mostly use electronic ones.

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? my cloud-print long sleeved mesh shirt

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? I used to want to change it, I don’t anymore. 

11. Who is a mentor to you? I don’t think I have one

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? I like the idea of creative projects of mine becoming a little bit known, but I’d never want to be famous.

13. Are you a restless sleeper? Not really

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? I’m probably less romantic than the average person, but in the right situation I can be.

15. Which element best represents you? I associate myself with fire (bc I'm a leo) but in some ways water or air might better represent me. Idk.

16. Who do you want to be closer to? Honestly? Pretty much all of my friends. My life is complicated and the severity of my ocd makes me keep everyone at a distance more than I’d like to.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? Everyone who I haven’t seen since quarantine started.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. As young kids my sister and I hated Tracey Sketchit from pokemon so passionately that we would draw his face on the bottom of our feet before going to jump on the trampoline so that we could feel like we were jumping on him

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? When we were little my sister and I would sometimes eat raw dried spaghetti dipped in vegemite when there was no other easy snacks in the house. We called them cardboard sticks. (The food situation in my house wasn’t dire or anything, we were just too lazy to make a sandwich or something lol)

20. What are you most thankful for? I am thankful for the people I have in my life and for the amount of stability i’ve been able to have in my life in recent times.

21. Do you like spicy food? I do, but if I eat it often enough to increase my tolerance to it I get bad reflux. So I remain a spice wimp who can only have mild.

22. Have you ever met someone famous? Zakk Wylde, Chris Lilley, and some guy who was on Blue Heelers. Also I spoke to Tracy Grimshaw on the phone once. Meeting Zakk Wylde was funny because I was REALLY weird and embarrassing.

(Long story ahead, feel free to skip) Basically, my friend and I were 16 and wandering through the city high on acid. We saw Zakk standing near Hungry Jacks and became completely captivated by him. We had no idea he was some big famous rockstar, we thought he was just some random guy. I cannot convey to you how intense his presence felt at that time. It was like he was everything that is and ever will be metal but congealed into a human being and magnified by 2000x. (in case you don’t know him, he looks like this)

We were so high that we were very in our own world and felt like we were the only ones who really existed and that everything else was just kinda there for us to observe. So we started following him and discussing him as if he couldn’t hear every word we were saying. 

I remember us being like “He’s the most metal thing i’ve seen in my life” “He’s like Neptune, king of the sea, but a brutal version” “He’s the raw original concept that all other metalheads were disseminated from. He’s the true, the original.” It made sense at the time that he could be the origin point of metal and the first ever metalhead because time and space felt like it existed in a looser way than usual. We were really fixated on the idea that metal was invented through his very existence as a direct expression of self, then people copied him, then people copied those people and so on. The further they got from the source (Zakk) the more diluted the essence became. That’s why being around normal metalheads wasn’t as viscerally overwhelming as being in the presence of the raw undiluted concept. We concluded that no metalheads were actually expressing themselves through their subcultural identity. Unknowingly, they’re just expressing him. And we were saying all of this while walking maybe a metre and a half behind him while he ignored us.

Eventually some of the people he was with noticed we were following him and started talking to us (they may have been members of Black label society or they may have just been friends of his, idk). They were friendly and said that they used to do acid when they were younger too and invited us to get drunk with them. We said yes and walked with them for a little. I don’t think Zakk said a word to us the entire time. He probably found us annoying. But we kept staring at Zakk and getting overwhelmed by how intense it was just to be in his presence. Then me and my friend abruptly turned and left without saying anything because being around Zakk was getting to be too much. It was like a sensory overload. As we walked away we barely heard them yelling back to us “something something something ZAKK WYLDE!”. I was familiar with the name but I’d never known how he looked. I googled him a few days later and learned that it was indeed Zakk Wylde who we met and that he’d been in Brisbane with black label society.

And that’s the story of how I passed up the once in a lifetime opportunity to get drunk with Zakk Wylde because his vibes were off the charts.

23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? No. Kinda wish I could, but the habit doesn’t stick.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil?  Pencil

25. What is your star sign? Leo sun (Virgo cusp), Scorpio moon, Sagittarius rising.

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? Crunchy

27. What would you want your legacy to be? I’d like to have a positive effect on the people in my life and leave art behind that people might enjoy or relate to (I use the word art loosely, I mean any kind of creative project). I think I've become more aware recently of how important that is to me, which is why I've been so uncharacteristically dedicated to finishing my comic.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? I like reading books but I don’t always have the attention span for it. I tend to read more non-fiction than fiction. The last book I read was Nothing Feels Good: Punk Rock, Teenagers, and Emo. A really great book if you want to learn about emo history. The only downside is that it was published in 2003, before emo really took off in the mainstream. Had some insightful things to say regardless.

29. How do you show someone you love them? Idk I can’t think of a concise answer for this. I think it varies depending on who it is and what our dynamic is. When I took that love language test it said my love language was quality time.

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? I don’t like it in water. It’s fine in most other drinks.

31. What are you afraid of? I don’t think I can answer this without oversharing or getting too bleak

32. What is your favourite scent? I like tropical scents like mango and coconut

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? By their name

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? I’d buy a house with my sister and I wouldn’t have a job but I'd volunteer and do freelance creative work. I’d donate a lot more and help people out more. I’d learn lots of new skills and make lots of art. I would have an amazing wardrobe too.

A kinda sillier dream is that I'd start a cheerleading team where our routines are exclusively to metal songs. As well as entering competitions, we would also be an opening act for bands (in this dream i’m much better at cheerleading than I currently am). It would be cool ok

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean.? Ocean. I miss going to the beach so much

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? See if someone dropped it. Then idk, would depend on my financial situation at the time.

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Yes

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? I’m not going to have children. I’d like to be a good influence in my friend’s children’s lives though.

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? Probably some old-school gradient style neopets art (maybe an aisha) or 90s tamagotchi art or a cool wizard. I’d get it on my thigh. I’m very unlikely to ever get a tattoo though

40. What can you hear now? The hum of my computer. It’s old and loud and on its way out

41. Where do you feel the safest? In my bed at home with my cat Luna or hanging out w my sister

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? Once coronavirus is less of an issue (which may be in the near future where I live), I’d like to try and push myself to start dating again. I haven’t done that in a long while. The limitations that ocd causes me makes it hard for me to imagine a relationship-- even a casual one--being workable. But I ought to at least try before I decide that. Sometimes things turn out to be easier than I think they’ll be 🤷‍♀️.

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be? This is so hard!!

If this is purely for enjoyment and not to change the past, i’d probably just want to see all my favourite bands live while they were in their prime and like, cry the whole way through because I am so moved.

44. What is your most used emoji? :) or :/ 

45. Describe yourself using one word. I’m really bad at questions like this

46. What do you regret the most? Eh, that’s a bit personal. I feel like i’ve overshared enough in this thing.

47. Last movie you saw? Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Dog Days

48. Last tv show you watched? Degrassi the next generation

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. Idk

If you’ve read this far ty!! Here’s a little sheep for your trouble

[antihero-writings]

Red and Gold Chapter 2: Blackened Magic—Pandora Hearts Fic for Phsecretsanta2018 (Vince/Ada Pirate AU) (Full Chapter)

Fic Title: Red and Gold

Fic Synopsis: Memories of a strange music box in Ada’s occult shop intertwine with a present where she meets the equally mysterious Vincent Nightray…

Notes: This was my Phsecretsanta2018 gift for @endoreon!

Chapter Title: Blackened Magic

Chapter 2:

“More meat, Seaweed-head, more meat!”

“There isn’t any more meat left, Stupid Rabbit!” Gilbert held up the empty plate that should have been enough for all of them.

She blinked at the empty plate. “Then you will be punished for disrespecting your Captain!” she took it from him and bonked his head with it.

“You’re not the Captain!”

“Oh yeah? Then who is?”

“Oz is!”

“Well he’s my manservant, so…”

“Are you really this stupid?!”

As they continued to fight, Ada tried and failed not to laugh. Luckily, her amusement went unnoticed by the two, on account of their focus on each other, and the noisiness of full table. Though her brother, Oz turned to her, smiling himself.

“They don’t get along very well, do they?” Ada mused.

They had decided to meet at a tavern a little way from the Vessalius manor for dinner, and Oz and his crew (well, he called them his crew, but—as Gil and Alice demonstrated—they often fought over who the true ‘Captain’ of their ship was) took up half the tavern.

Oz and Ada sat next to each other, chatting about school, and Oz’s latest endeavor into the Cheshire Cat’s dimension. Gilbert and Alice, of course, sat across from them, squabbling. Oscar sat at the end so he could get up and get more drinks whenever he wanted, already telling wildly exaggerated stories about things like how he tamed the sea. Sharon chuckled pleasantly at everyone’s antics, and Break across from him, teased drunk Oscar, and had managed to steal all the dessert before anyone finished the main course (they didn’t have much, so he had to do this to satisfy his sweet tooth…if that was possible. They would have demanded for some themselves, but anyone who dared attempt to get between Break and his sweets found that that sword at his side was looking rather sharp).

“It seems that way. But I think it’s just because they actually care about each other a lot.” Oz smiled.

“Say Oni-chan,” Ada drummed her fingers on the table, “you were telling me about looking for Alice’s memories, did you ever find any interesting objects or books in that dimension?”

“Uhh, we saw a lot of weird stuff, but no. At least, nothing to take back. We were kinda busy, you know. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious!” her voice was especially high-pitched.

There was a murmuring from the front door. They looked up to see that two people had walked in, and apparently they were something to whisper about.

One was a young man with golden hair, and a gold eye, while the other eye covered with a patch. Metal jingled as he walked in. His clothing was similar to Oz and his crew’s, though a little fancier; in black and silver, he wore a tri cornered hat, a long jacket, with a brown sash that held his bag, a black belt with a gun holstered on it, and black boots. The girl next to him was much shorter, younger, and had silver hair and eyes—eyes that had dimmed to a hollow grey, like there was nothing behind them—and she wearing a tattered white dress, with a blue corset over it, and a sword on her belt.

“Who’s that?” Ada tapped Oz on the shoulder.

As the man’s uncovered eye found their table, he cried happily, “Nii-san!” rushed up behind Gilbert and hugged him.

Gilbert didn’t seem nearly as excited to see him; he wore a scowl at the appearance of his brother, and attempted to break free of his grasp.

“Does that answer your question?” Oz snickered.

“What are you doing here?” Gilbert grumbled.

As her eyes scanned the table, she found that Gilbert wasn’t the only one who seemed displeased with the company— the playful look in Break’s red eye turned to something icy. Most everyone else, however, seemed relatively undisturbed, and continued with their conversations.

“Do I need an excuse to see my favorite brother?” Vincent hugged him tighter.

“Yes, when the Nightray manor is islands away,” he grunted.

Uninvited, Vincent sat down beside Gil. The girl seemed perfectly content to stand patiently behind him, and not partake in the festivities.

Alice didn’t seem to mind her seat being shifted, or if she did, her actions of trying to grab a bite of every other available food was her way of getting back, and was not, in fact, normal Alice behavior.

“You’re so mean!” Vincent chided playfully. “When I came all this way to see you!” he stabbed a piece of bread before Alice could reach it, giving her a taunting smile as she growled at him.

“Hey! I was gonna eat that!”

“Don’t you think you have enough, Alice?” Oz tried to calm the boiling pot.

“No, Manservant! You can never have enough food!”

As Oz tried to appease Alice, Ada observed the man beside Gilbert. Gil’s annoyance with Alice was of a completely different nature than his coldness towards his blood relation. She had remembered him mentioning Vincent before, but he’d never been very long-winded in his descriptions, and she’d never met him herself.

Maybe most people would have been deterred against him, on account of Gilbert’s general good judge in character—(though Break didn’t like him either, and he wasn’t exactly the poster-boy for good character)—and the…something that seemed to follow him, something clouded, hidden, something you can’t quite place your thumb on…something about this man—maybe it was the same something that put others off—intrigued her. Seeing him in person, she wasn’t quite sure what she had expected before. In the same way she was drawn to the objects in her shop, drawn to the darkness, to an ominous mystery, that can’t-quite-place quality about him was probably what it was that drew her to him. Magic of a blackened sort. Like the opposite of a moth drawn to a light. Like…a spider and the dark.

And the fact that he was more than a little attractive was neither here nor there.

She cleared her throat. “Um, Gil?”—gold eyes flashed up to her—“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

“My apologies. Ada-sama,” be bowed a little, “—As much as I may try to deny it—“ he muttered, “this is my brother, Vincent.”

Ada extended her hand from across the table. “I’m Ada.”

Vincent was resting his hand in his chin, and offered the other hand casually towards her, like he was royalty, though something about his smile, and the way he said—

“Pleased to meet you to, Ada-sama.”

Made her feel like royalty.

His hand was cold. But something about his touch made her feel warm.

“It’s nice of you to stop by to see Gil!”

“See,” Vincent taunted, “She understands …”

Gil rolled his eyes.

“There was a time I would have given anything to see my brother too,” she tapped her pointer fingers abashedly.

“Ah, yes, Oz Vessalius,” he turned to her brother, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yes, we’ve met.” Oz smiled, but failed to make it sound like that had been a pleasant experience.

As they continued conversing, telling stories and asking questions, Ada found she and Vincent were the ones carrying most of the conversation.

Something about the silkiness of his voice, the way he seemed both detached from those around him, and tangling webs between them…

What finally caused Gilbert’s brother to leave however, was when Break joined them,

“Oh look, they let a rat in here,” he draped his sleeve over Vincent’s face. Break’s tone was perfectly cheery, but his words were poison.

“Only because they didn’t clean up the scum walking around,” he responded in the exact same tone.

It didn’t take long after that for Vincent to say, “Well, as it appears I’m unwelcome, I’ll be going,” and stand up to leave.

“Feel free to not come back~!” Break waved.

But before Vincent left, he turned to Ada, “Ada-sama…might I have a word alone with you?”

“Eh? Me?”

He gave a curt nod.

Gil, Oz, and Break glanced between the two of them, confusion in their eyes—something protective flaring for Oz and Gil, and revulsion in Break’s.

Ada stood up and followed him outside.

“Um…Ada?” Oz stood, reaching out a hand towards her, his concern evident.

“It’s alright, Oni-Chan. I’ll be back!”

With that they exited the tavern, and walked a little way down the path before Vincent stopped, pulling a small spyglass from his bag to look out at something.

The tavern sat on a hill, overlooking much of the island, which they could now easily observe. She pushed her hair behind her ear as the breeze tossed it, waiting for him to begin.

He handed her the glass, saying, “If you look a little way down and to the left, you’ll see a shop.”

She followed his directions, and, as often happen with these things, the shop was her own.

“It’s said to hold,” he paused and spoke softly, “all manner of unsightly things.”

“Is that so?” she fidgeted nervously.

“It is also said that the proprietor is a young woman, from a famous dukedom.”

Her heart beat faster.

“Would you happen to know anything about that?”

She set down the spyglass.

“Why would I?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he walked behind her, “maybe because you’re”—on the word he placed a hand on her shoulder—“the woman?”

She spun around, feeling her cheeks flushing. “W-Where did you hear a thing like that?!”

A smirk tugged at his lip. “So it’s true.”

“I-I never said that!”

“No,” he leaned in close, “but your cute little face,” he brushed his fingers along her cheek, “says quite a lot.”

She had never been very good at lying, or masking her emotions. Even now, she felt her cheeks growing hotter by the second.

“Oh don’t worry,” He took his finger away, “I won’t tell a soul.” He put his hands behind his back, and walked backwards in front of her, like a child excited to have a secret, and the power to keep it, and earn someone’s trust, or tell it, and break it, but watch the fire that spread. “In fact, I am interested in doing business with you.”

“Oh?”

“It has come to my attention that you just so happen to have an extraordinarily rare artifact. One that I happen to have been looking for for quite a long time.”

“What might that be?”

“Well,” he stood, pushing his own hair behind his ear, “If it’s not too forward, I was hoping we could discuss it tonight.”

“…Tonight?”

“You see, I have some rather important business I have to attend to, and I cannot come by tomorrow. And I don’t think either of us want our brothers finding out about this little operation.” He gestured to the tavern with his thumb. “Us meeting out here is strange enough as it is.”

She glanced back to the tavern herself, wondering if Oz and Gil were pressing their noses against the window, trying to gain clues about what they were talking about, and if they’d need to kill Vincent for coming near her.

“I…suppose your right.”

“It can be our little secret.” He whispered, and the sentence sent chills down her spine.

“What time were you thinking?” she kept her breath in check, her heart beating uncommonly fast.

“Shall we say…around midnight?”

Electricity. The words, his touch, his mere presence, were like lightning, making tepid feelings inside her bubble.

Even so, he might be Gilbert’s brother, but he was still a stranger. A stranger, asking to meet her in the middle of the night. Should she accept?

She’d be lying if she said this wasn’t the first time this happened—the objects she trafficked in lent themselves to clandestine meetings, (her meeting with Leo, of course was one example). People wanted to be discreet about these things, and atmosphere was important, after all. Still, it was suspicious any way you look at it.

Then again, the idea of meeting a handsome, mysterious stranger in the middle of the night to discuss an occult artifact, was so exciting it was almost intoxicating.

Looking into that golden eye—like his brother’s, and yet not—there was this feeling of things being unfinished, like there was more he wanted to do—whether it be in life as a whole, or with her specifically, she couldn’t be sure. And she couldn’t help but wonder if her eyes held that same unfinished quality, a yearning for something more. Because, in truth, she didn’t want to say goodbye to him. Not just yet.

“I’ll see you at midnight, Vincent-sama.”

She hadn’t been very good at explaining things to the table when she returned. That inability to lie was a rather large crutch when she was interrogated by Gil, Oz, and even a sobbing, hiccupping Oscar, who started paying attention when she left. She told a half truth about how he was looking for a magical object, and a witch (she didn’t quite like the looks of horror and disgust on their faces at the word). Later, when it was time to leave, she placed her cats on lookout, and was glad that no one—the servants, Oz, or Oscar—seemed to have seen her getting up in the middle of the night (though the latter she was guessing might be passed out, or else puking his guts out).

The idea of seeing his face, hearing those velvety words, again, made the hours she waited—9:00, 10:00, 11:00—sand dripping by slowly. The stars turned sluggishly into view. She wanted to take the minute hand and twirl it around until she heard midnight’s bells. Her anticipation, shifted and floated in the air above her heart, it dove back into her chest and squirmed there.

When the time did come, and she rushed towards her shop—in a black corset, her witch’s hat, and cloak—the night air was cool and blue, but, unlike the unease that it held when she met Leo something in her veins rushed too, the air buzzed, alive with exhilaration. Rather than seeming impure, the world was so much more alive; the stars shone a little brighter, the wind was a confidant, who wanted to keep her secrets, rather than moan her doom. The world was a wonderland for her to explore, a box for her to open.

She always loved discussing the occult…maybe she was just excited that Gilbert’s brother shared her interests?

Let’s face it, she was beyond excited about that.

But this was something more than just business. Something to do with him specifically—once again, that undefinable something.

She had been around magic long enough to know that this was more than just simple curiosity, this was something akin to enchantment. Something pulling her moves, something sparkling in her eyes. And she didn’t fight the spell. Nor did she yet know its name.

Or maybe someone watching from a far off future would say it was curiosity. That is, of the same dark, disobedient kind that led her to defy Leo’s words once before.

When she arrived, he was already there. They exchanged pleasantries, and she opened the door to her shop, lighting a few lanterns.

“Sorry it’s not much…” she said modestly.

Her shop hadn’t seemed so small before. She’d always been so proud of it, how full it was, how many questions she could answer, and that almost-alive quality of the place, and she had been looking forward to showing it off to him. Even if it hadn’t been completely recovered since her search for the whispers, it hadn’t ever seemed so cluttered and insignificant.

“I think it’s quite charming,” he replied politely.

She tried not to squeal her joy at his compliment.

“T-Thank you…So will you tell me what it is you’re looking for now?” she turned her back to him, folding her hands in front of her.

What could it be? She continued her attempts to curb her enthusiasm. Was it a book, or a lantern, or a compass, or, ooh, maybe a—

“Of course; It’s a music box.”

The world slowed, the current of fast turning seconds became slow sand again, and she could almost hear time’s ticks, like water dripping in a quiet cave—but who knows what lies beneath those black waters? The excitement that had been so potent seconds ago turned to dread. The wind outside, rather than lively with whispers of a thrilling adventure to come, became a howl, telling her she should have listened to her doubts. The gaps of black between the stars seemed to swallow the light, and the shop became smaller and more cramped by the second.

No. Not that. Ask me for something else.

She had wanted to bury it. Though the whispers had stopped, moving it back into the trap door hadn’t been quite enough. Whenever she had stepped over that creaky board, the sound called to her, a ghost, and the feeling that one day she would feel her dark bride’s hand grab her ankles and pull her back into the depths of her own past, crawled into her mind and made its nest there. So, though she knew she couldn’t get rid of it—for fear of who else might use it—she had wrapped the box itself more tightly, put chains around the chest, and moved it to a place she thought would be safer, more secure. She wished she had truly listened to Leo, and started by putting it there, as far as away as she could keep it from her, without it being completely out of reach.

Sure, there was more than one magic music box in existence. But she only had one; That music box. And, despite having used it, she never told anyone about its existence, per Leo’s orders. She was sure of that. How could he know?

Perhaps he meant something different?

“I’m sorry…could you repeat that?” she whispered, and didn’t turn to face him.

“A music box,” he said pleasantly,

“What sort of music box? What is its…purpose?”

“One that has a haunting tune,” His footfalls followed her, “which, when played,” and as he placed a hand on her shoulder, cursed words fell in her ears, “is said to allow you to watch your own past unfold before you…even converse with your past self.”

The words made something cold crawl down her spine, and she had to fight to keep memories from resurfacing like monsters in uneasy waters.

She spun around, brushing him off.

“Now why would I have a thing like that?”

“First of all,” he lifted his hand to refer to the shop.

Oh, right. Of course.It seemed that lying skill would be needed quite a lot today.

“And second of all,” he stepped closer, “once again, that precious face of yours betrays you.”

She turned away before he could touch her.

“If I had an object like that, do you really think I would give it to a stranger?” she rubbed her arm nervously.

“Come now, I’m not a stranger, am I? Nii-san knows you well enough for us to say we’re not complete strangers. But as far as the music box goes…” he paused, then laughed a little, “Oh I think you’d do everything in your power to hide the fact that you had it.”

He was smart. An intelligence she didn’t think she could battle, even if she had had the ability to lie.

“I’ve been looking for this for a long time, Ada-sama. I really don’t want any trouble.”

“And…why would you be looking for an object like that?”

“Why do my reasons concern you?”

The frankness of his response caught her off guard.

“Because—“

“Do you usually interrogate your customers?”

That was true; she usually didn’t care what people did with the things she sold, even if she was often interested. She may ask, but she tried not to pry.

“If an object like that exists—”

“Please. You wouldn’t be so restless if you didn’t know it did. If you think a few ill-conceived lies are going to deter me,” he ran his hand along her shoulder. “you’re very much mistaken.”

“Vincent-sama…”

What could she do? She was a bad liar, and, even if she wasn’t, he was a good at seeing reading her. She wasn’t going to stop him by…

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

And she tried a different approach.

“The past is…dangerous.”

He did the last thing she expected; he laughed. Loud and long. An action that made her intrigue turn more rapidly into something dark, and hot, and stubborn.

“Oh you think so, do you?” he put his hands behind his back, stepping forward, “What makes you think that? Did the Hatter tell you something? Or…” he stood back up to his full height, his eye boring a hole into her, as if he were casting judgment on her by his mere gaze, and he stepped forward, tipping her chin up to him, his words whispered, but cold, “Did you use it?”

She stumbled backwards into her desk, covering her ears, breath heavy, as if to block out his judgment, or her memories.

She flicked her eyes up to him, as if they could hold the same judgmental drilling power as his.

That intrigue and excitement was twisting and writhing and turning into something else. Something angry, and burning, and defiant.

“Listen,” she stood, brushing herself off, “the past may seem like it holds the answers, but it’s not something to be meddled with. Especially not mine. Please leave.” She pointed at the door, “I will not be humoring you tonight”

All that anticipation, gone. All she had been waiting for had become a demand to leave.

“Hm,” he grunted, turning to leave, though she could feel something simmering.

She let out a breath, surprised, but relieved hat he wasn’t going to put up a fight.

And in the next second that simmering thing was alive, and she was being pinned against the wall, his hands on either side of her, his jaw set, the look in his eyes like gunfire.

Electricity. It was in him now, but it was not that warm, bubbly feeling. It was a streak of lightning in an already stormy sky. The sting of something beneath the waters.

“I told you,” he hissed, “I wouldn’t give up that easily. Either you give me what I’m looking for, or—I don’t want to—but I’d be perfectly happy to tear your,” he looked around, a twisted smile on his face, “quaint little shop apart.” He leaned in closer, and she could feel his breath on her face, “Or if I don’t find it…you.”

Her breath caught in her throat, terror turning the dials in her heart.

“And I told you...” she heard the shake in her voice, and tried to sink to the floor, but he placed a hand on her chest to stop her.

“It’s not something I would expect a thing like you—a spoiled brat, who has had everything handed to her, for her entire life—to understand,” he spat.

The words bit even more than his threats. Is this what he thought of her? Just a spoiled brat? A noble’s daughter, who never suffered? Who couldn’t understand him?

More importantly, why did she care what he thought of her in the first place?

What should she do? Should she give in to save her life? Or would she give her life to save the music box from him, or him from it? What would be she be saving in the end? How bad would it be if he ended up trapped in his own past?

Still, this was Gilbert’s brother. Even if he tried to deny it, she knew he cared about him. If he disappeared…

This was Gilbert’s brother. She couldn’t believe that this piercing darkness was the only thing inside him.

There had to be more. There had to be a reason for his actions, his determination.

Surely he had been through a lot in his past, if he would go this far just to talk to it.

Maybe she could find a way to help?

As she was held there by the strands of her own decisions, and his venomous eyes—which she tried to keep from meeting—her gaze drifted upon the wind, out the open window.

It was far off, and out of reach, but she saw something flicker in the cold moonlight. Something important. Something worth noting. Something she’d missed.

Something they’d all missed.

Red and gold, fluttering in the wind.

Sitting in a little alcove, just off the edge, just out of view, was a ship.

A ship, with red and gold sails

"What’s that, Uncle?”

Oz pointed at the picture in the book. It was of a ship, sitting in a cave, its sails a peculiar color of crimson, with borders and symbols in gold. The ominous air surrounding even the picture of it was enough to give the children pause.

He, Ada, and Gil were all sitting on Oscar’s lap, sunlight from the window behind them draping them in gold.

Oscar pulled them all closer, “Remember about the Abyss?”

The nodded, each with different reactions—Oz with intrigue, Gil with fear, and Ada a mix of the two.

“Well, there are two things in this world connected strongly to the Abyss that are very dangerous.” He looked out the window, as if painting the picture in his mind, “One are called the Sirens, or Chains.”

“They drag bad guys into the Abyss, right?” Oz asked, and Gilbert clung tighter to Oscar.

“Very good Oz-kun.” His Uncle ruffled his hair. “The other, are the Baskervilles. This ship,” he pointed at the picture, “Belongs to them.”

Ada leaned in closer to get a better look at it.

“Why are they bad, Uncle?” she asked.

“Well…” he put a finger to his chin, probably trying to formulate a non-terrifying answer, “It’s not that they’re necessarily bad, it’s just…You know how the Abyss is like a prison? Well the Baskervilles are like reapers, they too drag people to the Abyss. But they aren’t always careful with who falls in.”

They paused, taking in the information.

“If ever you see a ship with red and gold sails, I want you to run as fast you can, got it?”

Everything seemed to both click into place, and go out of sync.

This man, the one who knew things he wouldn’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t, things she kept secret; who would ask to meet her in the middle of the night, because a strange and powerful artifact she hadn’t told anyone about; who had business to attend to in the morning, and whose anger was quick to flare; who would speak of the past like a toy, was a Baskerville.

Gilbert’s brother, Vincent, was a Baskerville.

Emotions brewed in her like a potion, and her expression must have been disloyal to her once again because his gaze followed her own.

She didn’t breathe.

The smile that grazed his face was gentle, but somehow twisted. “Do you like our ship, Ada-sama?”

She swallowed. “You’re a Baskerville.”

She hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

He grinned. He took her chin in her palm, forcing her to look up at him.

“Is that a problem?”

If she tried to escape, she might make the situation worse—he might call his Chain to pin her further, or worse, kill her, but if she didn’t, she might die anyways…

“What do you want?” her words were taut, tiny, like that little girl, so long ago…She wanted to be stronger than this.

“I told you.”

“Why would you bring an entire ship just for a music box?”

“Whoever said that was the only reason for our coming here?”

“You really think I believe you came for Gil?”

“Well, yes, that too,” he chuckled, “but that wasn’t what I was referring to.”

There was a sound like thunder outside. They both looked up to see white smoke puffing up from the aforementioned ship.

Where did that cannonball land?

Fear doubled in her, it stuck her heart and her throat, and threatened to overtake her breath.

“What’s your real intention in coming here, then?” the unwanted question spilled from her lips.

He came very close, dragging a nail along her cheek, and whispered in her ear. “To kidnap you.”

He pulled away, and gave a warm and genial smile.

She gasped, eyes wide. When her legs found the ability to move, she was surprised that, this time, he simply let her go. Her own legs double-crossed her, however, and she fell to the ground. She scrambled across the planks, reaching up for something, anything that could help her.

She had to get to Oz. To Oscar. To run, like her Uncle had told her to so long ago.

“Echo.” Vincent snapped his fingers.

The sound of glass shattering.

She hadn’t noticed the girl standing outside; she could have been there for days for all she knew, her presence was masked and the shop was dark.

That lightning split the world.

The shop was silent, and her witch’s hat fluttering softly to the ground, was the only evidence that something had occurred that night.

"Oni-chan!”

That word had interspersed itself throughout the earlier whispers. The word that came by the most often, the strongest.

It was her voice. Her terrified, little voice, crying for her brother.

Her voice, so small. She hadn’t realized her voice was so small then, that she could be so helpless.

But these whispers had stuck with her so much, because they reminded her of that time. She had tried to put out of her mind, like a fire. Told herself there had been nothing she could do, then. That even if she had made it in time, then, she couldn’t have kept Oz from the Abyss. She wouldn’t have been strong enough.

But these whispers were a poison. They made her question herself. They made her think the scene was still here, still fluid, could still be changed. They made her wonder, Maybe if I just—Maybe if I had—Maybe I could…

Instead, this time, as she slammed shut the box, the word, the voice, that tiny helpless thing that once was her, was no longer disembodied and subtly toxic.

She turned to see a little girl, in the room with her. Blonde hair, green eyes. Her little green dress, and gold hair soaked through with rain.

That past was real. Here. In the room with her.

Ghosts were more than whispers.

The adult Ada’s hands flew to her mouth to keep herself from screaming. In doing so, she lost her grip on the music box, sending it to the ground before she managed to lock it, causing it to land on its side and crack open.

Standing there—and yet, not there—was herself. A memory of the past, a specific past, her past, animated.

The little Ada flickered in and out of solidity. She was almost transparent, though real enough to send her heart reeling, and nausea to her throat. Her small eyes, dappled with tears, were—thankfully—not looking at her future self, standing there, but somewhere beyond her. Even so, they were still looking at something else that was also both there, and not quite there; something beyond her future self.

What if she knew that her future was watching her now? What would the little girl do? Would she scream? Or would she run up to her, say it was nice to meet her, and ask if the future was going well? If the little Ada knew the regrets that the future her felt now, would she have been given the strength to accomplish the task? What if she could talk to her? What would she say? Could she change things? What would her life become if she could?

Chills played melodies up and down her spine.

Her past self ran forward—(Ada jumped out of the way)—the little feet trod on the music box, and a few discordant notes spilled out from it. And as they did, her past self’s form became more solid moment by moment. After passing it, Ada turned to see what she was running towards.

The box played more of the song, and her thoughts rearranged themselves, went out of order, so the notes became background to her, not the thing itself; the thing to shut down, the thing that was causing this …but something that was simply there. Not to be noticed.

The song was dark, and slow. The notes tinkled out like raindrops, like leaking ink onto the pages of her life, drop by drop, flooding out. And, as the notes crept along the floorboards, their bony fingers trailed with them more of the scene, blood on the floorboards, in the water.

The ghost rain pounded louder and louder, becoming more real, more here, and with it, the shop started blurring, as if the drops were corroding it away.

All Ada—the future Ada, the, in her mind, real Ada—could do was watch.

She couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t seize the music box and shut it up. She couldn’t grab her past self and shake the hours out of her until only the future was left. Not anymore. She didn’t have the strength. The understanding. Or the time.

The music was all that was left.

A door, big and oak, a facet of a giant mansion—which would have been magnificent, with all its bricks, and windows, and rose gardens, had it not been so stormy—stood some ways away, below her.

Her past self was running across a stone bride towards this door.

When Ada looked back she saw that she was now on this bridge too, and the quaint, quiet shop nowhere in view. Her life was suspended over howling, hungry waves and jagged rocks.

Panic and intrigue were now the battling forces in her. She couldn’t quite quantify the scene, place it into normal terms and call it by name—it just was now. How she would get back, and how much she would see before she did something, were no longer answerable. Her mind was in another place too, perhaps still in the future.

She, of course, remembered this scene. She knew everything that happened. Not in precise detail, but she had been through it once before, of course. However, the foreignness of the sensation made it seem as if she was seeing it for the first time, wondering where this unknown little girl was going to, and why it mattered.

As she looked all around her—trying to find a single piece of reality, of now—she gazed down at the waves below.

There were many ships; people had come from far and wide to see her brother’s coming of age ceremony. These ships had all sorts of symbols and colors on their sails, or just plain white. They were from different houses, and came in all sorts of sizes, shapes, and kinds.

But there was one in particular worth noting.

Once again, in a cave, hidden away, to the side. She would have never seen it if she hadn’t been on this bridge, high above. And she wouldn’t have found it so quickly if she didn’t already know it was there.

A ship with red and gold sails.

And for a moment she was that little girl again, running because she had to save her brother, she had to warn someone, anyone, that that ship her uncle had warned her about was here, now, and they would surely—

“Your sin is…”

But she had been too late then, and she knew she was too late now.

[silly-nonny-fics-are-for-fandoms]

Halloween hauntings

Bakukami week day 6 (Part one) : Fall Nights @officialbakukamiweek Summary: Halloween parties are just excuses to sneak in alcohol, get fucked up, and wear stupid costumes. Bakugo had never liked the holiday before, but a cute devil was quickly changing his mind Read on Ao3

Halloween was never Bakugo's preferred holiday, despite the free rein to scare the crap out of little kids.

He honestly preferred Christmas, or at least the idea of it, if only it weren't for the cold. New Years, Valentines, White Day; he liked all of them, except Halloween. He hated that everyone used it as an excuse to get drunk, wear costumes of things which should never be sexified, eat a bunch of candy and complain about getting scared.

What was the point of it, really?

He'd never enjoyed trick-or-treating since his mom and dad had always insisted on picking out his costumes and hand making them. Don't go crazy, don't get it dirty, and don't rip it. Problems of having fashion designer parents, he guessed. His mother got way into it every year, doing family costumes together with them and going out with Izuku and his mother.

He usually also had to match Izuku, since their moms enjoyed the holiday and it was easier to find them if they had matching costumes.

And as he'd grown up, his Halloweens changed. His parents started holding parties once he'd decided that he didn't want to trick-or-treat anymore, another excuse for Inko and Mitsuki to hang out together on their second favorite holiday. Those two had been friends since they were in High School. He couldn't understand why they were both insufferable. The parties had gotten louder and louder the older he got, parents and teenagers using the holiday as an excuse to drink. Someone always brought the booze from the adult's side of the party to the teenager's side, or the teenagers would have to take the younger children out to trick-or-treat. It sucked if you got stuck with that.

When he got into UA, his parents asked if Halloween was a holiday that they'd be home for. Aizawa had responded no. And with the introduction of the dorms, UA had been forced to do something. They'd announced a Halloween party to their students by year. The first year party was going to be chaperoned by Midnight and those she chose. Present Mic would be joining her, as well as three other pro heroes which had not been announced. Aizawa had been reserved for watching over his Daughter, Eri, as she went trick-or-treating for the first time.

This would be the first year he didn't have to match Midoriya or his parents; where he could pick his own costume and do whatever he wanted.

He wanted to stay at the dorms, studying or training. Nothing good would come of the party, especially if it was going to be as loud as he expected it to be.

His friends tried to convince him, Kirishima especially persistent in his efforts. Apparently, he was going as a half-dragon shifter thing, since his red riding hood costume, which he'd worn as a joke the previous year, had been denied by both of his mothers since they needed to remake it; he'd grown since Middle School.

"But Kaminari and I have already made plans next year to match! We're gonna do Oni's next year!"

"Kirishima. Your point?" Bakugo glared. "Also, who the fuck prepares that far in advance?"

"Kaminari and I, obviously! And, yeah. You should totally go to the party with us! It'll be so much fun!"

"Absolutely not."

"C'mon, man! We're all going, and who wants to sit in the dark, alone, on Halloween? That sounds like the beginning of a horror movie!"

Bakugo rolled his eyes.

"I don't like Halloween."

Kirishima's eyes widened, placing his hand on his heart in shock. "How can you not like Halloween?!"

"If I fucking go to the shitty party, will you not ask?!"

"Yessir!"

Bakugo only realized what he'd agreed to after he saw the grin on Kirishima's face, recoiling from how bright and sunshine-y he was.

"You're way too fucking happy about that, Hair for brains."

"Well, now we can all hang out at an awesome, manly party! Why shouldn't I be excited? Any ideas for what you're gonna be?"

"I'll kill you in three seconds if you don't get out of my room."

Bakugo had learned long ago that hanging out around a single one of his dumbasses for any length of time was too mentally draining for his comfort, and Kirishima understood that despite being an extrovert.

He did have to think about what kind of costume he wanted, though. Something which made sense with his personality.

On the night of Halloween, October Thirty First, Bakugo reconsidered going. His costume, a werewolf, looked amazing and it was comfortable, but he didn't honestly feel the need to go other than he'd told Kirishima that he would.

Kirishima and Sero went to get him ten minutes after they said they would, Mina in tow.

"Bakugo! We match!!!" Mina exclaimed her own werewolf costume a pretty impressive display. Shorts, a tail attached to the belt in the same fashion as his own, her pink ears high and proud. The crop top she had on likely wouldn't be allowed on any other day, looking at it.

Kirishima wasn't looking bad either, red scaled tail coming just above the floor and fire red horns matching. He'd managed to put patches of scales on his cheeks and down his neck, on his arms and part of his exposed chest.

Sero, however, was hilariously creative. A spiderman mummy. He'd managed to place his tape so perfectly that his elbows were almost completely hidden by the material, in fact.

"Where's Sparky?" Bakugo asked, looking at the three expectantly.

"He's finishing up; he'll meet us downstairs, so come on!" Mina grabbed Bakugo's arm, pulling him along with her to make it down to the first floor.

"Everyone else has already headed out," Sero explained, as to why they were late.

"We figured you wanted as little to do with Midoriya as possible," Kirishima grinned. He was right, of course. After years of spending the holiday with Deku, Bakugo wanted nothing to do with him. Especially not tonight.

Once they got to the main floor, Mina dragged them over to the candy bowl she'd set up with Sato, waiting for Kaminari.

Three minutes ticked by slowly, the four of them conversing lightly about what the party would be like. Would it be a dance? Would there be games? The possibilities were endless, really. They knew that each year was given a location, the first six floors of one of the four pillars of UA, while the fourth one was left locked, save for the first floor where Recovery Girl's office and the lecture hall was.

The front left had been reserved for the third years, front right for the second years and the back left for first years. For everyone's safety, the windows would stay locked as well as the upper floors. School IDs were to be kept on everyone's person at all times, otherwise, they wouldn't be able to get into the dorms or the building. All other school rules applied, which hadn't made Hagakure too pleased.

The main difference between the party, it seemed, is that quirks would be allowed during the event so long as it wasn't in a destructive manner. No school the day after, either, so they could stay up as long as they wished.

"Hey, you guys ready to go?" Kaminari's voice broke through the narration, the four of them turning to face him.

Bakugo's face went a gorgeous shade of crimson, Sero and Mina whistled, and Kirishima fist pumped the air.

"Looking good, man!" Kirishima said, grinning,

"Get it boy~!" Mina winked, her voice peppy,

"I have no idea how you're walking but I like it!" Sero chuckled.

Bakugo didn't know what to say.

Kaminari had walked downstairs, tight wine red pants clinging to those long legs of his, a blood red silken shirt adorning his top, partly undone to expose his chest. A smooth cherry vest trimmed with obsidian topped it, showing off his wonderful waist and leading into a swishing devil's tail, which likely was moving through some animatronics. His pitch leathery colored wings curled to hide behind his shoulders, though Bakugo was sure they had some form of a motor in them as well. In his hand was a metallic raspberry trident, long and strong enough to withstand his weight. He had reddish black horns upon his head,

What killed him was the shoes, however. Leather, black and sleek, lace up and coming to his knees with five-inch dagger heels. Kaminari walked as if those weren't killing his feet to wear, even swinging his hips with a smirk.

He knew what he was doing.

"Well, what are we waiting around for? There's a party to go to!" Kaminari smirked, the devil in him coming forward.

If Kaminari would dress like this every Halloween, Bakugo might be able to learn to love this holiday.

Bakugo did hate the holiday. Oh, how he hated it. They'd arrived at the party, the dancing and partying was taking place on the main floor, food was on the second floor, the third floor was reserved for movie watching and the other three floors were reserved for games. Someone had proposed the idea of a test of courage, only for Midnight and the other faculty members to shoot it down due to the anxiety and memories such a game might hold for the hero course students.

'We are not in the business of giving people anxiety attacks,' Midnight had said, 'You are free to play pranks and the like, and hold a test of courage in everything but name; if you play Murderer in the Dark, you're more than welcome to hold some scares as well.'

Jack 'o lanterns lit the halls of the upper allowed floors, setting the mood for frights. The first and second floor, blissfully, was fully lit for proper sight.

After sitting on the second floor for a half an hour, Kaminari and the rest of his friends had dragged Bakugo into a game of Murderer in the Dark on the upper three floors. As much as he had intended to leave them be, he found himself staring into golden eyes full of excitement, blushing cheeks and blonde hair which glowed in the light, and he heard himself say okay before he could stop himself.

So, they'd been given ten minutes to hide among the three floors, and they'd scattered. He'd lost track of his friends and remembered exactly why he hated Halloween parties.

They'd started on the sixth floor and made their way downstairs. Bakugo had made it down to the fourth floor by the time a small scream came, registering pain and he saw lights from within a classroom.

He opened the door, slipping in carefully.

"What the fuck?" He asked into the darkness of the room, the lights coming again from the corner.

In this classroom, the music room he realized, was a cabinet wall at the back of the room. He heard buzzing from that corner, realizing exactly who was there.

"Sparky, what happened?" He knelt down to his friend, who sat against the wall with one leg out, the other pulled in close. Electricity buzzed around him, Kaminari hissing and tearing up.

"I. Fuck this hurts." He hissed, and Bakugo raised an eyebrow.

"Do I need to carry you to recovery girl?"

"Can you help me get my boots off first?" Kaminari's voice was wavering, pained and he was on the verge of tears.

Bakugo obliged him, unlacing one of those knee-high boots carefully while Kaminari did the other. Fuck, those look as good as the fabric feels, he thought.

As soon as the boots were off, Bakugo saw the issue. Even through the socks, he could tell that Kaminari had definitely damaged his ankles. They were swollen, certainly, and Bakugo assumed he'd tripped on those dagger heels.

"How the hell did you fall? You were fucking fine before." Bakugo hissed, glaring at the little devil.

"I was running, man!" Kaminari winced, "This dude from class E has been following me around since the party started, I saw him, and I bolted." He choked on the end of his sentence, "I didn't know what to do!"

Bakugo reached over, slipping one arm under Kaminari's knees and the other under his shoulders, lifting him up.

"Well, they're gonna have to fuck off. I'm bringing you to Recovery girl, you're going to have to fucking deal with it."

Kaminari moaned in pain, holding onto Bakugo with one hand, the other holding the boots which had been the cause of his pain.

When he walked out of the music classroom, Bakugo spotted Kirishima as Kaminari's electricity started dying down.

"Oi, shitty hair!" Bakugo said, Kirishima turning around in a panic.

"Oh, hey bro, can't- Is that Kaminari?"

"Yeah, I'm taking him to Recovery girl. Tell the moderator to fuck off or I'll kill him."

Kaminari was getting redder by the second as they Bakugo brought him to Recovery Girl, trying to attract as little attention as possible.

Recovery girl healed him up, gave him ankle braces for his feet, and told Bakugo to escort him back to the dorms to change into supportive sneakers. If Kaminari was going to go back to the party, he wouldn't be allowed to participate in any of the physical activities, so he'd be stuck on the second and third floors.

The fall air was crisp, cooling and refreshing to their lungs. The leaves crunched beneath their feet, neither one of them talking, instead appreciating how beautiful things were. The trees were gorgeous, amber, umber and hues of red mixing together. The smell of Pumpkin filled the air, sounds from the party coming through the building as they made their way back.

Fall was the kind of season which made people want to cuddle up together, ushering in the icy breath of winter some days, summer heat lingering in others. It was nice, the best of both seasons. Under his green coat, Bakugo as more than warm enough to combat the cold breeze, but Kaminari wasn't the same.

Thin silk shirts weren't exactly resistant to the cold, after all.

The warmth of the dorm, with its heating and lack of open windows, was welcoming.

Bakugo and Kaminari made their way to their individual dorm rooms in silence, unknowingly to do the same thing. Change back into their pajamas, then go down to the common room and watch movies while binging on candy.

Kaminari had changed into a pair of cozy sweatpants, and one of the sweaters he'd stolen from Mina accidentally. A dark burgundy, embroidered in wool with the word 'Snuggle' on it in white. Comfy.

Bakugo changed into sweatpants and a black-skulled sweater, heading back down and turning on the television. Kaminari made his way out of the elevator, sitting next to him on the couch as the television illuminated the room. Scrolling through the movies available, Bakugo chose the Halloween movie and leaned back, Kaminari snuggling against his side, to which he moved one arm over the injured blonde's shoulder.

Somewhere around ten thirty, Kaminari fell asleep to the beating of Bakugo's heart, the warmth radiating off of the other teen a wonderful protection against the natural cold of a fall night.

Bakugo silently amended his thoughts from earlier in the night. If Kaminari dressed like this, staying cuddled up with him and falling asleep while they watched old movies, he may start to like Halloween and even look forward to it.

[eninilaup8]

50 things tag

Thanks @suhoerections for tagging me and giving me something to do :)

1. What takes up too much of your time?

Used to be school but now that I finished, i’d say sleeping fml

2. What makes your day better?

A bright sun in the sky, seeing my dog, doing something productive, seeing or talking to my friends

3. What’s the best thing to happen to you today?

Anything lmao someone make something happen

4. What fictional place would you like to go to?

hogwarts maybe, or the avengers’ base

5. Are you good at giving advice?

Idk if my advice is actually good, but i like listening to people and trying to help them

6. Do you have any mental illness?

nope

7. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis?

No, my mum did but I haven’t, it looks scary as shit. But I did have a phase of night terrors :)

8. What musician inspired you the most?

Idk, i’d say Jongin inspires me in the everyday life but not as a musician but as someone who is ambitious and who works hard to make his dreams come tru

9. Have you ever fallen in love?

Nope, I’ve actually never had a boyfriend. I’ve had a few feelings for some guys but it wasn’t love LOVE

10. What’s your dream date?

Idk, sunny day and a walk in the park, laying down and talking about everything, eating ice cream and taking pics of flowers and each other, or MUSEUM date!!

11. What do others notice about you?

People usually say that I have a resting bitch face, and that I also have big eyes

12. What is an annoying habit you have?

I usually scratch my scalp idk why?

13. Do you still talk to your first love?

how can i talk to him if he doesn’t EXIST✌🏼👌🏼🤙🏼🤘🏼

14. How many exes do you have?

:)

15. How many songs are in your playlist?

Idk but i know that my playlist is 15h long

16. What instruments can you play?

the triangle🥴🤪

17. What do you have the most pictures of?

memes, me and my friends, my outfits

18. Where would you like to go before you die?

in space! a whole dream, but if you want something that’s actually possible, i’d like to travel all around the world, i really can’t choose. but if you really want a place, i’ve recently been wanting to go to Japan

19. What is your zodiac?

I’m a fucking aries

20. Do you relate to it?

Sometimes yes, but there are a lot of ares things that I don’t relate to at all

21. What is happiness to you?

Simple things, going outside on a sunny day, seeing my friends and family being happy, spending time with my dog, good food, dogs, travelling!!!, discovering new things and cultures etc, enjoying art

22. Are you going through anything right now?

yes, life

23 What’s the worst decision you ever made?

I have no idea, i’ve made a lot of bad decisions but idk which one was the worst

24. What’s your favorite store?

Zara💕

25. What’s your opinion on abortion?

We, women, should have complete control and possession of our body and of what happens in out out of it. You can give your opinin freely but don’t try to make it a universal truth and impose it to others.

26. Do you keep a bucket list?

Maybe a mental one, i should write on down

27. Do you have a favorite album?

Not really

28. What do you want for your birthday?

My birthday was like two weeks ago but honestly i’m not one to ask for something. If you wanna give my something, i’m not going to stop you but if you don’t want to, thats fine. I legit want people to be happy and save earth

29. What are most people’s first impression of you?

Usually, they say that I look like a complete bitch. But when they get to know me, they say I can be quite intimidating cause I’m opiniated and am not scared to share my opinions. But mainly that I’m funny and cool (and stylish eh)

30. What age do you seem according to most people?

I don’t have a precise age, but they usually think I’m a bit younger, like 17

31. Where do you keep your phone while you’re sleeping?

Ony bedside table. Quite close to me cause i’m a heavy sleeper and i barely hear my alarm if it’s too far

32. What word do you say the most?

yeet? lmao? like?

33. What’s the oldest age you would date?

I hate the idea of age gap dating like? As long as you get along and the person is great for you and you’re happy? But like, rn as I’m 19, the oldest would be 25 i think. But later on, a 10 year-old gap wouldn’t bother me, as long as he’s not 15 years older than me, then it gets a bit too much in my opinion

34. What’s the youngest age you would date?

I’m still young so like, 2 years younger maybe? But not younger, i’m not a babysitter

35. What job/career do most people say would suit you?

Everyone tells me that a career in fashion would be perfect (which is what I’m aiming for), or modelling sometimes. My family says in politics cause they’re scared of me whenever there’s a debate

36. What’s your favorite music genre?

POP

37. If you could live in any country in the world, where would it be?

Honestly i don’t care, as long as the government is « great », which is why I love France so much (the government is far from being perfect but you know). I wouldn’t be able to live in the USA for example, or any country where inequalities are huge

38. What is your current favorite song?

all the way by joan, daddy af by slayyyter (which hasn’t come out yet lmao but already a bop). PLEASE listen to these artists they’re not famous at all but deserve so much more

39. How long have you had this blog for?

It’s not really a blog? I’m mainly here to get info, for pictures and fanfics. But I’ve been here for like, a few years

40. What are you excited for?

My summer vacation! I’m going to Berlin for a week and then to Rome for another with my best friends♥️

41. Are you a better talker or listener?

I think I’m a better talker, but I’m also a good listener

42. What is the last productive thing you did?

Going to the grocery store with my mum (is this productive??)

43. What do you want for Christmas?

My studies paid by some unknown billionaire

44. What class do you get the best grades in?

English literature and everything that involves me speaking English

45. On a scale of 1-10, how are you feeling right now?

6-7

46. What can you see yourself doing in ten years?

Being a fashion journalist for some big magazine, going to fashion shows and meeting incredible people, travelling everywhere and being happy :)

47. When did you get your first heartbreak?

I wasn’t in love but I got « abandoned » by a guy i was getting to know when I was 15-16, and i kind of was sad for a couple weeks but that’s all, nothing huge

48. What age do you want to get married?

I don’t have a particular age limit? If I get married at 55, well then lets do it. I don’t even know if I’ll ever get married.

49. What career did you want to have as a child?

I wanted to be a singer, then an english teacher, then a model, then an actress... what the hell

50. What do you crave right now?

A love life duzjsbdbdb

Now, I’m tagging @justasouthernlady, @yeoldontknow @tempxo and whoever else wants to do it :)

[the-sassy-dorito]

Do you ever run into those kind of people where they think that high school were the best years of their lives? I have, and if you ever meet them in real life? Run. They are going to be one of three things. A) a liar B)a psychopath C) someone who peaked in high school or D) Ass-kissers and suck ups.

Some one who constantly reminises about their "good old days" in high school are people to be avoided at all cost. How do I know this? A lot of my old co-workers. Whenever we were on breaks, it was never ending talk about "How amazing high school was" or "I wish I could go back to those good old days". Where could they possibly be now where could say, with full confidence, that high school were the best four years of your life? And the the people who mostly said this, were pleople who had to be in their early thirties.

Now I don't know about you, but I personally hated high school. You could not pay me enough to go back to high school. I won't even be going to any high school reunions. Simply because I hated it. I hated the students, the teachers (aside from one), the food, and the overall environment. It felt more like a prison with pretty walls. It seemed like evryine walked at 2 miles an hour and cluttered up the hallways making it almost impossible to get through. Making you late to class, especially when you only have two minutes to get to your next period.

There used to be only two classes that I absolutely loved (which quickly turned to one) and those were choir and art.

But see, here's the thing. Our choir teacher, didn't know Shit about choir. She was the overall music teacher because we also had the elementary school in that room.

The way the school was set up was weird. The 1st- 6th graders were in the elementary school across the street and 7th grade and up were in the high school building. And since the high school was the only building with a cafeteria, naturally the school was combinded during lunch.

Now back to the choir/music teacher. She was good at teaching kids, not teenagers. There's a reason I stopped taking her class even though I loved choir. I had been in a few choir programs before this class, and every program I was always the same thing. A 2nd Alto. My voice can hit certain high notes but not often and my previous instructors knew this. I think the highest I could go with cracking too hard would be a 1st B or C at most.

This dumb bitch of a choir teacher set me as a 1st Sopranno. Uumm Bitch?? Do I sound like fucking Christine Daea to you?!?! And the first fucking song we did was fucking Danny Boy! And the only two other girls in this fucking choir, who had the range of a sopranno, were altos! Sometimes I get it, we were not a big choir there were only five of us. 1 sopranno 2 altos 1 tenor and 1 bass. I know why there were only five of us in that class. Everyone took that class to get out of other classes and that was the only reason why people in that school took choir. After the disaster of a concert was over. I dropped that class so fast. I think voice still struggles now with my old notes with how bad Danny boy fucked me over.

Art class was my only sancuary left. I loved that class. Even though, again, people took that class to get out of other clases. I didn't care because in this class we didn't have to perform, we didn't have to work together, and we didn't have to embarrass ourselves with half assery. This class was my only happy place in the hell that was high school.

I thought my english class was going to be fun. Until it wasn't. Sure the book reports were different, and challenging but my teacher graded them at college level. Do we look like college students to you? And before you ask, no it wasn't just our class she graded at college level. 7th - Seniors were graded at college level. Nothing hurts more in high school than working really hard on a project and feeling really good about it, ony to recieve a failing grade for it.

Three teachers at that school were the reason I didn't get to walk on graduation day. Three teachers at that school who continually talked down to their students, treated them like they were stupid, and graded their students at fucking college level. My history teacher, my math teacher, and my english teacher.

I tried. I tried so god damned hard to pass their ridiculous classes. I did their homework to the best of my ablilities. So hard that I would continuosly get sick over stressing about it one too many times. Getting stress sick at the times when you needed to be class sucked royal ass and I would have to miss school and then they turn it around and act like it's your fault that you're not passing.

The students there weren't better. I didn't really have any friends. There were people there I din't completely hate but that didn't really make us friends either. I tried to make friends,it just no one in that school and I had much in common. It seemed like the people in that school were only interested in FFA and sports.(FFA= Future Farmers of America). Seemed like they also knew how to sweet talk the teachers into doing whatever they liked too. A bunch of ass kissers the lot of them. They'd give their bullshit excuses and then poof they got away with everything. In my world, if you kept your head down and keep quiet, they leave you alone.

If what you liked and talked about didn't fit their criteria. You were labeled as the outcast. They would pretend to be nice and act like they want to know about you but once you see past their fake smiles you can see right through all of their bullshit.

Me and my family were always the outcasts. We didn't grow up with any of them. We had moved cities to that high school as soon as I had finished middle school. By the time he had moved, everyone already had their own cliques. And we were the outsiders. At least my younger brothers stood more of a chance than I did.

When I was told that I didn't have enough credits to graduate high school, my heart dropped. After working my ass off for almost 8 and a half fucking semesters. I wasn't going to be able to graduate. They told me my otpions. I could either repeat another year or I could drop out of high school and start working on recieving my GED. I chose dropping out so fast. I refused to retake another year in that hell hole.

I dropped out and and started studying for my GED. I passed the first three tests easily. It was the math quiz the really stumped me so I had to retake it. I had to retake it six fucking times. Each time I failed I was only two points away each fucking time.That final sixth test was the best day of my life. I didn't to have to have anything to do with that school ever again.

Sometimes I'll run into my old classmates every once in a blue moon when I visit home. And the second they start talking, I always regret saying hi, because they simply do not shut up about fucking high school. They talk about how great it was and how sad they are to be moving on. Like great I'm Soooo glad that high school worked out for you and the people like you, but for people like me, it was hell.

It was hell and I was alone.

Now I'm not saying that no one else has had it rough in high school. I know people who had it a lot tougher and rougher. I know what I went through doesn't compare to what other people have gone through.

I don't expect anyone to read this. I doubt anyone will care, and at this point in my life, that's okay. I've just been holding onto these thoughts for so long and Idon't feel like I can tell anybody else anymore because every time I've tried, I've always been brushed off and invalidated. So right now this once empty document was the only one who would listen.

Thanks for listening to my venting.

[bainhardt]

Anyway, here is my collection of thin books (dunno why I get a kick out of calling them that). I finally stored them properly in comic bags with back boards, the works. Because it’s so funny to me that the rules on tumblr actually allow drawn nudity unless it depicts sex or a couple other arbitrary things, I’m gonna talk about some of them here and show as many covers as I can. No one gives a fuck about tumblr anymore anyway, so why not?

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Well, to begin with, these first three aren’t even porn. These ones are a non-H original manga I translated into english, 肉食JKマンティス秋山 / Carnivorous High School Mantis Akiyama. Unfortunately I haven’t translated everything in these books, as they contain exclusive content that was never posted online. I’m proud to own them, though, and it continues my mostly-consistent record of buying the manga I translate. It doesn’t hurt that I’ve always been such an avid collector, but it just feels right to pick up copies of the manga I enjoy enough to try to share with others.

Up next, some dicks. These are actually two of only maybe three or four books I own with hard dicks on the covers, and I happened to buy both of them in person at Anime Boston 2019 while attending with my friends. Turns out new regulations in place meant none of the vendors were allowed to give out bags, so I was stuck carrying these around loud and proud the whole day, lol. Good times. Back then I hadn’t even learned how easily (and not cheaply) I could order books online through a vendor service, so this was the first time I’d ever bought thin books in my life, and it was a lot of fun hunting for familiar treasures hidden among the boxes of comics.

The one on the left, 保健室のJKさん 2 / Hokenshitsu no JK-san 2, is actually the only crossdressing book I own, which is kind of a shame. Most of my favorite stories I’ve read in that genre are either original magazine chapters or anthology works that usually end up in larger compilation books, so finding thin books about crossdressing worth buying is a little rare. When you add that this was at a convention and most of the genres sorting the books were much more “mainstream,” I feel lucky I even found this one at all.

Speaking of mainstream, would you believe futa stuff is more popular than crossdressing? I hope your answer is yes, because it was certainly true at AB. But as far as the book on the right is concerned, I felt like Indiana Jones discovering an ancient artifact straight out of mythology, because it’s from 2009. ふたちゃん キャラクターブック / Futa-chan Character Book is one of five legendary books released by OZONE / Marumiya / Uno Makoto (idk why this one artist has so many names but they do) before dropping off the face of the earth in 2012. Finding it at an American con in 2019 was a miraculous twist of fate, and I knew instantly I had to snatch it up before anyone else could. It’s not even one of their better books, but it was still worth picking up for the history. Books like this had a large part in broadening my horizons when I was younger, if ya know what I mean. Their work is like a celebration of everything great about dicks, balls, and cum.

Moving on, I ended up with a lot more FGO books than I’d have expected considering I don’t even like the game (and this isn’t all of them, but some of their covers push the limits of what I can reasonably post). At least with porn you don’t need to know the story or really anything at all about the characters, and Fate has a lot of hot character designs, so why not let it fly. My favorite two characters I probably focused on a little too heavily are Shuten Douji and Wu Zetian, so almost every book I bought features them. And I can imagine what everyone’s thinking, but what, I can’t appreciate a small girl with a pompous attitude? I love cow tits and milfs as much as the next person, but I’m not gonna leave shorter, flatter girls out just because some artists take that as an excuse to lolify them (kinda like the partially obscured one at the top).

Speaking of, let’s start there for titles: なまいき!!メスガキ温泉 / Namaiki!! Mesugaki Onsen was a must-buy for having both Wu and Shuten in one book, even though it kind of overdoes the loli angle with the art (I got the artist’s preceding solo Wu book, ふやあな / Fuyaana, too). Next is the top row, ふーやーしんどろーむ / Fuya Syndrome and AssAssIN. Again, two Wu books, although AssAssIn has some Shuten thrown in for good measure, and it’s nothing but the two of them getting fucked in the ass from start to finish. That one’s pretty great, actually... The sequel, AssAssIN+M, focuses less on Wu and doesn’t even have Shuten, so I didn’t end up buying it.

Bottom row are two books from the Chaldea Mania series, カルデアマニア・鬼&魔 / Chaldea Mania - Oni & Devil and カルデアマニア・トリオブラウン / Chaldea Mania - Trio Brown. In most of the books I buy, I don’t really care who’s fucking who or why, but these ones are particularly nice for having the girls grow dicks and fuck each other, so it’s nothing but familiar faces. And speaking of familiar faces, they’re drawn by Hirame / Bear Hand, an artist immediately familiar to anyone who’s spent two seconds on the degenerate side of the internet. The Shuten one has Ibaraki and BB in there as well, and the Trio Brown one is exactly the three ladies seen on the cover. Both fantastic books, which I highly recommend.

And hell, hardly feels like I got going running my mouth but I guess I gotta call it here. I can’t show most of the other books because their covers are more explicit, not to mention they span many different flavors of degeneracy I don’t feel like getting into, lol.

Collecting thin books is really fun, and I’ll undoubtedly end up buying more in the future. I was talking to my brother about it, but plenty of people spend a lot of money commissioning artists or, hell, if you wanna go really highball with it, some people collect actual works of art. So for me, I like to think of owning doujinshi as collecting art combined with my existing hobby of collecting manga. I got carried away and bought more than enough for 2020 though, so I’m probably gonna force myself to hold off for a good while.

[keen2meecha]

Happy STS! If you were to meet your OCs, which one would you get along with best? Which one would you get along with worst?

Happy STS to you too!!! Thanks for the ask!!!! (I’m. Uh. Sorry it got so long.)

Okay, for the core five: I would get along with Rocco and Leona, because they’re so exceedingly friendly that I wouldn’t have much of a choice - and I’m okay with that! And honestly? I would probably get along with Kruze okay too. We see him in such an awful light because it’s from Sofia’s point of view - since the two don’t get along at all, we don’t really get to see the good side of him. But I like to think I could win him over (more on that in a second). 

As for who I wouldn’t get along with? Vera. I love writing her, because I know her and what she’s been through and whatnot, and because Sofia is stronger than I am and doesn’t fall for some of her bullshit. But if I met her for realsies? My rejection sensitive dysphoria would make it incredibly difficult if not impossible for us to get along, because I talk a lot and she barely talks and she generally gives off the air that she hates everyone and would rather be anywhere else, and I’m not good at looking past that in the moment.

(I’m… honestly not sure about Sofia and I. Ironically, I don’t think we would be close. Maybe it’s the ‘always cast as an extra in school theatre productions’ kid in me, but I don’t think I would really be super close to any of the core five, which is a weird thought.)

Let’s look at the rest of the class, because I don’t give them nearly enough love! (I’m so sorry there’s. so many of them.)

First of all: I project heavily onto Ibrahim, so we would either vibe or it would be an absolute disaster. Or both. Which is why I think I could worm my way into Kruze’s good graces - although Kruze will never admit it, Ibrahim managed to do so almost alarmingly quickly. So there’s that.

I based Larue off of my sister in middle/high school, and we’re both extremely competitive but she actually has the skills to back it up, so I doubt that we would get along haha.

Dimas and I would bond solely because we’re both frequently forced to be the mom friend and we both have similar general gender bafflement - Dimas just gets his shit together far quicker than me lmao

Onie is as anxious and shy around strangers as I am, so it’d be a miracle if we ever even talked - but if we were put together on a school project or something, we would get along great. And then never really talk again once it was done.

Jerilyn is focused pretty much entirely inward, but I think we would get along because she doesn’t get mixed up in a lot of drama and is generally pretty quiet. We would be study buddies if I ever actually studied 

Hali is weird enough that I would adore her, but also honest enough that I would be a little intimidated by her. She’s sweet though, and is generally kindhearted, so we would be just fine.

Junius is quiet, doesn’t like touching, and loves bugs. We… probably would not be in the same circles.

Zahir and I would clash so hard. We’re both stubborn fools and he is so loudly insistent upon following the rules, while I mostly just focus on making sure I don’t violate the big ones. We’re also both awful at reading people and get misunderstood easily. It would not be good.

Vonda and I are both airheads, and I am constantly gripped by the need to protect her. We would vibe so hard.

Elora’s a cool gal. I respect her - from a distance, because she’s excellent friends with Zahir. 

Briony is the sweetest and she just wants everyone to get along and be happy!!!! And we’re both self-conscious but really good at hiding it, generally. I’d like to think we’d get along!

Bonus! Cicero, a kid that Sofia meets during her first work-study thing. I love them, because I also get along best with people a year or so younger than me. They also keep to themself, but don’t give off quite the same unfriendly vibes as Vera except to Sofia because, let’s be honest, she’s a little bit of a shit when they first meet her and I really think we would get along, just a little!

[gnomesagetion]

Teen Wolf: Season 6 Episode 6

Happy New Year Guys - To start this year off with a bang we’ve got a brand new episode of Teen Wolf. And boy did it reveal some things about what could happen. Let’s start with the carousel and the opening credits.

The carousel in Canaan has horses like most other carousels. What makes this carousel different from the others is the blood covering those horses. Now there isn’t anything really signficant about that fact (other to provide the audience with the thought of death). However there is one shot of those blood covered horses that we’ve seen in every episode. And it’s in the opening credits.

Now, gerneally, film and tv producers/writers/directors have everything said or done for a purpose. The darker lighting in Canaan compared to the scenes in Beacon Hills is to create a mood. It makes the place feel scary and spooky. Just like how you’d imagine a ghost town would be like. In this season’s opening credits we see images and snippets of film of past seasons and what may come in this season. At first I thought “It’s the last season, they’re probably putting these bits in to explore the history of the show and how far the characters and the show itself has come,” And that’s a reasonable explaination. But looking deeper into the opening credits can reveal some interesting stuff. I found that a majority of those images and snippets can fit into four catagories, although some overlap. These catagories are Season 6, Past Seasons, Allison and Other.

Let’s start with Past Seasons. The first thing from a past season we see is Scott’s bite. Not much there. Other things include Scott’s Fangs, The Beast, The Darach, One of Allison’s Silver Arrows, The Nogitsune, The Oni, A Bezerker, Mountain Ash, The Dread Doctors, Scott creating the pack’s symbol into the metal, the Kanima seen through Issac Lahey's dad’s glasses, the Kanima’a claws and the female alpha werewolf from season 3. There’s not much there. However, there’s a few things in there that relates to Allison; The Beast, The Darach, The Silver Arrow, The Nogitsune and The Oni. The Beast was defeated at the end of Season 5 because The Beast saw Scott’s memories of Allison who looked exactly like her ancestor, Marie Jean. She was instrumental in the defeat. Just like she was with the Darach. She sacrfised her life for her father. That lead to Darach being defeat. The Oni were defeated because of Allison who figured out that silver killed them. The silver arrow is one that SHE made. However, the Nogitsune and the Oni (who were under the command of the Nogitsune) were instrumental in the death of Allison. Apparently, according to the anonymus ask I had today, there was an Allison Scream. Either I wasn’t listening/watching closely or it didn’t happen. But incase it did happen, I thought that these parts of the opening Credits might be useful. The third catagories is Season 6. We see four things about Season 6 in the opening credits. The Carousel, The Ghost Rider, Someone punching the glass and the school doors opening with wind and leaves blowing through. We already know that wind and leaves blowing indicates the arrival of the Ghost Riders. And obviously The Ghost Rider is the Ghost Rider. As we found out in the episode, the carousel is the carousel from Canaan. And it’s also kinda obvious that the someone punching the glass is Mr Duglous. There’s not actually a lot to read into for these images and snippets. However, there is in the last catgory: Other. This is snippet of a flower landing in the water. I’m pretty sure it’s a lily. This I read into a lot. A lily is a common funeral flower and symbolizes the soul of departed recieving restored innocence after death. (Source) And who do we know is dead? Allison, Matt, Kate, The Darach, The Nogitsune, Theo’s sister, Parrish (technically) and Claudia (although she’s not). I really feel that the writers/producers/directors wouldn’t have added that in just to make up the given time of the opening credits. 

Okay - enough reading into everything. Let’s get onto some important things from the recent episode.We learnt that:

Theo is afraid of going back from wherever he came from. That what he experences was worse than death

Argent knows Celtic names of Herbs

That when the Ghost Riders leave a town, all the souls they take become Ghost Riders.

That the Ghost Riders wouldn’t stay unless they were stuck somehow

To further explain these points: 1) What did Theo experience? Well... As an older sister with a younger brother, I would probably do terrible things to my brother if he killed me and I got the chance to seek revenge. So who knows what Theo experienced. If it’s worse than death, I doubt that Theo will tell us. I need to talk to Theo’s sister.

2) And Melissa is pretty handy with Google Translate and can figure things out that no one else might. She’s also a very big risk taker.

3) Will Stiles become a Ghost Rider? Only if the Ghost Riders leave Beacon Hills. And as Theo told us/Liam and Hayden, The Ghost Riders are stuck. Hopefully the rest of the pack will be able to save Stiles before then because I don’t want to see Stiles’ soul to turn into a hollowed Ghost Rider.

4) What if the reason why The Ghost Riders are stuck is because of someone coming back to life? The entire population, minus Lenore and Caleb, of Canaan were taken by the Ghost Riders. Like Theo said, they wouldn’t stay to take a whole town. There’s only two similaries with Canaan and Beacon Hills; Someone came back from the dead (Claudia and Caleb) and there was a Banshee (Lydia and Lenore). However, we didn’t see Claudia alive until after Stiles was taken so we don’t know if Claudia really is the reason why the Ghost Riders are stuck. We know that the whole reason why the Ghost Riders were in Canaan was because Caleb came back to life.

I’d also like to make another point that I’m thinking about. The two people who remember Stiles completely are Theo and Grandpa Stiles. Both were out of Beacon Hills at the time Stiles was taken. This may mean that if you don’t live in the same place as thsoe taken or are out of town at the time, you still remember that person. Just some food to feed your theories.

Questions I’d like answered soon

What is Mr Duglous doing? Why were the horses bloody? Are the Ghost Riders going to leave Lydia behind when they leave town? What does Theo know that we/The Pack don't? How did Lenore get in contact with someone/something to bring her son back? Did The Ghost Rider's get stuck in Canaan because of Caleb? - Is that why everyone but Caleb and Lenore survived? Why is Claudia Stilinski Alive? Who brought Claudia Stilinski back? What did Sheriff Stilinski see?

[wanderingfan]

To Anyone Invested in the Current Pewdiepie Drama I Have Some Things to Say

I Have a Horrid Confession to Make...I was one of those kids that watched peediepie religiously. (yes I misspelled his name and no I won’t change it)

Don’t get me wrong. I stopped watching him in like my second year of high school. But it’s not because I realized he was a awful glob of wood glue right then and there.  This was almost a decade ago, before his antics made even gaming new sites, and while I was aware he made some awful jokes (namely ones about periods and that one Ao Oni video that I sincerely hope has been deleted by now) it didn’t stop me from simply moving on to the next video.  Sadly what stopped me was just that I got bored of him.  I, unaware of myself, quietly grew out of that phase of my life where I loved when he’d mentioned barrels and looked at deviantart to see how people depicted a pig and a golden statue from Amnesia. 

I was one of those embarrassing commenters who’d talk about the bro army and how we should be mad at barrels instead of each other and yes I deleted my entire account because I had the same one for five years and Youtube wouldn’t let me delete all my comments at once.  I did similarly embarrassing things for the Nostalgia Critic and MatPat too.  And like Pewdiepie, I grew out of that phase before their crap caught up with them.  I didn’t have the ability to reflect on my watching habit until my third year of college, and that’s because I was a closeted white girl who didn’t know I was closeted, who didn’t have a tumblr account until I turned 18, and had a high school history teacher that compared Pearl Harbor to the Atomic Bomb that was given the Best Teacher Award every year (she was fired eventually but it was long after I graduated.)

I think the name Wandering Fan suits me because while I fixate of certain sources of entertainment I move on fast.  When its good it can pull me back to series I loved (Undertale dont at me, Fruits Basket, The Last Airbender, ect.) but oftentimes when I look back on the stuff I used to obsess about I’m mortified (Ib, Twilight and Host, that one film about the two headed dragon that wore an Elvis outfit, god I can’t believe I told my family about Vampire Knight, ect.)

And I think as a wandering consumer I’ve gotten lucky to not put all my eggs in the wrong basket, but don’t think I’m fooling myself or that I think I’m above the people who are still in that eggs-in-one-basket phase.  If Pewdiepie did his anti-semite antics and his “oh i didn’t MEAN to promote a neo-nazi” spiel back when I was in middle school I absolutely would have been one of his defenders who thought his critics were just a little too mean to him.  Because I was part of the “bro army.”  Because I invested myself to watching his videos daily, even at the expense of the numerous things I could have done to improve myself, like actually reading the assigned books or practicing music.  I couldn’t have wasted my time watching him.  He was “important” to me.

But now I’m 23 years old.  I’m not the teenage girl who was encouraged to be kind and understanding to the worst kinds of people anymore.  I’m not the very smart very intellectual young lady who tried debating sexist boys younger than me when the new hip new thing to say was “not all men” and “sjws hate all men” and every girl who complained about character designs.  So when I learn that the people I currently follow and look up to do a bad, I can move on pretty easily.

Here’s the thing though.  While I naturally grow out of phases, I still had to actively learn to change how I view people and what it really takes to be observant.  I can still be nice, but I can also refuse to play polite when I know people are being malicious, unawares or not.  People have to actively learn to do better and be better for others, even if that means stepping on a few toes and letting go of the people you like.  Pewdiepie is 29.  As far as I know he never had to learn to do better, so he won’t be better.  There’s no incentive for him to.  There will always be young fans who will always watch him, because even if these fans move on there’ll always be younger fans to take their place.

All of this to say if you’re a 13-16 year-old mad at people being mean to Pewdiepie, you’re not an awful human being because the person you enjoy is in trouble and you want to defend them.  But he’s not worth it, and you’re going to grow out of him.  Pewdiepie is not the hill you’re going to die on.  People do not die on the hills they’ve claimed to be ready to die on, because eventually they’ll forget why they’re there and climb back down.  They’ll move on to other hills to die on, or they realize they can’t die on this hill, and will just enjoy the view for what it is.  But the people around them also don’t forget how they’ve been hurt, and threatened, and scared because of people who’ll die on the hill at the expense of everyone else’s safety and well-being.

But while Pewdiepie’s the hill you plan to die on I’m going to give you a bit of advice: next time you go on Youtube, search for something random, it could be about a game you’re interested in, or an animal you like, or a Simpson’s clip you heard referenced tons of times but never actually saw firsthand, or that vine where a guy high-fived a bumble-bee.  Do about three searches for different topics, then pick a video out from the suggestions page from an uploader you’ve never watched before.  Then go back to a Pewdiepie video.  You might realize you forgot about Pewdiepie for awhile, and maybe, just maybe, you’re interest in him will slowly but surely fade out of you’re mind.

And maybe a few years down the line you’ll be a little more ready to reflect on the people you looked up to and what you did in the time.  Look at your old comments and/or videos defending Pewdiepie and saying what he did wasn’t as bad and didn’t really hurt anyone, and anyone criticizing him is just an overreacting pc sjw.  Look at the people you might have hurt along the way and ask if they deserved it.

Self-reflection isn’t an ability that can grow without your awareness, like your nails or your hair.  Its like puberty.  It feels gross, and uncomfortable, and it’ll make you feel like a rotten apple a lot of times.  It’ll hurt.  It will make you feel bad, and you will not want to do it, and there’s a lot of people online who won’t make the attempt until they hit their twenties like me.  But the earlier you do it the easier it’ll be to avoid being fixated on people like Pewdiepie.  You don’t have to force yourself to hate Pewdiepie.  You just have to realize he’s not going to do better, but you can do better than him, and you no longer need him in your life.

Sorry for impromptu Ted Talk/ You’re-Not-Even-A-Mom-Stop-Acting-Like-One Lecture I just remembered my really embarrassing bro army comments from way back when and the fact that I deleted my account and had to resubscribe to like 200 channels ADD A DELETE ALL COMMENTS OPTION YOUTUBE PLS THX.