#and it has the most like...plot movement in one piece

[alltheboysandgirlsiloved]

What they did with the Handler's character in season 3 deserves its own post, I believe.

Friendly reminder that this is how this cunty bicth looks like:

You think you know her? Maybe a little bit. Season 3 will exceed your expectations if you hoped for some Handler content (spoilers under the cut)

We knew that she had a special relationship with her atrociraptors, this is not news. But it was still chilling to actually see how massively it affected the plot and, at the same time... how devastating the outcome was.

In the end, atrociraptors were the highlight of the Handlers' life, but they were also what led her to the brutal death (her death scene- the entire final scene between her and Soyona was so brutal? I gasped).

And everything surrounding her character was so masterfully done and written. Notice how, in season 3, a lot of scenes with the Handler happen in the shadows, in the cracks and holes, between the rubbles – she is dealing with business that has to be handled discreetly, she remains unseen to the public eye despite being one of the most important characters. And at the same time – she is a mystery; the Nublar Sic never knows her next move. she is terrifying because she is distant, inhuman.

And notice how her final scene, one of the most important moments of the entire season, happens in the daylight. She comes out of her shadows to stand proudly with her atrociraptors, she calls for them and we can see everything she does, nothing is left to imagination. Her intentions are clear, so are her feelings. Only one moment happens off-screen during this final "battle" – the moment that speaks volumes – the moment when Red launches at the Handler and she screams. Her voice echoes above the city. insivable shadow over the entire plot.

This season really showed us that the Handler is a character full of emotions, but the most extreme reactions are always caused by the Atrociraptors.

They are such a massive part of her that seeing her without the raptors was almost... uncomfortable to watch. When she came to corner Brooklynn, all alone, she looked almost naked. The way she moved seemed even less natural and more robotic without the Raptors to smoothen the sharp edges of her movements. The Raptors affect her in so many ways, and we witness it throughout the show.

And it's obvious that she has a soft spot for raptors only – she is a very selfish person. She didn't kick the pole towards Brooklynn when she was trapped under the rubble; she freaking kicked it away. She cares about what's in the game for her. And the only thing she wants is to be reunited with her raptors. The Handler's humanity shines only for her Atrociraptors. No wonder she meetd her end only after Ghost dies – with Ghost dies a piece of her.

In some languages, "a ghost" is synonymous to "a soul". So to me, it was a really symbolic moment – when Ghost died, I knew that Handler would die too.

[missnightshade]

❝ IN BETWEEN ❞

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Requested: Yes.

Summary: Wanda Maximoff's younger sister seems to have no place in the hex besides Agatha’s side.

Warnings: Fluffy; a bit of angst. My poor writing. I love Wanda but needed to portrait her like this for the plot. English not being my first language.

Word count: 1.2K.

Y/N Maximoff was a delight. A lively, powerful, rebellious, and carefree creature that echoed as someone so different from her older siblings. At least, that was the image Agatha Harkness had of her since the first time stepping into Wanda's made-up reality. A sweet little thing, ready to be made hers.

The younger witch didn't have a coherent part into that small city her sister held captive. Pietro has been dead for years, and even with Agatha’s poor casting of someone in his place, the Scarlett Witch held more care in her eyes for him than to Y/N. Her real and alive little sister. Agatha felt the need to protect you. To gather you into her own arms and never let go.

"Hey, Agnes. What's up?" The sweet voice of the youngest Maximoff elated her as Agatha stood by Wanda and Vision's door with a bottle of wine and what looked like a food container.

"Heard the Maximoffs were out and about. I decided to pay my favorite girl a visit." She stepped in, not caring to be invited. "Who in their right mind would leave such a pretty pet alone?"

Y/N's laugh scaped as her hand pushed the door closed. Agnes was the only happiness the move to Westview brought her. Yet, she couldn’t bring herrself to remember why she had decided to live with Wanda.

"I think you're the only one who thinks that way, Aggy."

The Maximoff's body flopped down on the couch as Agatha roamed around the kitchen she's been in many times before. Now, with the late nineties aesthetic, it felt easier to find what she needed to open the bottle.

"Why do you think so, dear?", Agnes asked, waltzing back into the living room with two glasses of red wine.

She reached for one, eyes now dedicated to gaze at the company for the night. "Oh, you know." Y/N moved her hand gently around her, and Agatha could swear whips of magic erupted from them in frustration. "Wanda is out with Vision, the boys and Pietro. The Maximoff's outing. Yet, here I am. Barely part of the family."

As Y/N grumbled, sipping the wine, Agatha smiled against the rim of her own glass, mind rapidly working.

"Oh, sweet girl. They love you. You know that. Wanda would never choose to leave you behind."

Her words seemed to wake something inside Y/N’s mind. As her eyes locked into Agnes', the young witch frowned, memories of Sokovia and the Maximoff twins leaving their younger sister in the hands of Hydra agents after fleeing. The puzzle pieces of memories also had the smell of burned cookies in the Avengers compound and Wanda grieving in the arms of a robot while Y/N suffered alone.

But just as they came, a stronger power pushed them out.

"Y/N?" She looked at Agnes."Where did you go?"

"Uhm..." She tried piercing things together, but her mind felt blank. "What were we talking about?"

"Wanda?"

"Oh, right." she sipped on the wine again. "You're right. She wouldn't choose that."

The happiness in your voice made Agatha’s stomach hurt. She thought for a moment that something inside you had remembered.

"Yes, sweetie. She wouldn't."

Agatha's inside twisted and turned. That precious girl, with the most mesmerizing eyes and bright personality was just another refugee of the excuse of a Scarlett Witch that was being written.

She scoffed at the thought, bitterness seeping from her mouth. The sound made Y/N look at her, the thick alcohol sliding down her throat. Her gaze was questioning, but Harkness' eyes were fixed on the movements she did to swallow. For a moment, as Agatha tried to look up at her eyes, a ghost of necessity lingered above her shoulders.

Y/N smiled then, and for the first time since meeting the younger Maximoff, she felt obsessed.

( . . . )

That feeling didn't vanish... or even subsided. In fact, it only grew stronger.

Agatha would stop by the Maximoff's home every day to bring the girl a sense of comfort and, almost always, she would be alone, playing the part of the perfect, quiet sister that hardly ever made Wanda lose her mind. Forgotten. Misplaced. A secondary part that no one actually cared about.

But Agatha did. And Agnes was always there.

There were many reasons as to why she wanted to play along Wanda's game. To pursue her. To enlighten her. To...steal her. But when looking at Y/N, all of that seemed so small in comparison. And even inside that wrecked reality of Wanda's, somehow, Y/N had enough of free will to choose to fall in love with Agnes.

"Argh, i wanna cry." Y/N cried out in another wine date. In Agnes' home, the effect of Wanda was not so overwhelming. The woman could, actually, feel something real.

"Cry? Why?" Agatha questioned, trying to reach for her. The space between them grew smaller by the time they saw each other. Now, on the same couch, Agnes' hands were stopped by Y/N, who quietly guided them to both sides of her face. The vulnerability on her irises pained Agatha as her thumbs caressed Y/N's cheeks. "Darling, what's it? Tell me."

Y/N closed her eyes, pouting as if she was really fighting the urge to cry. Maybe devouring two bottles of wine by her side wasn't a good idea.

"It's just..." She mumbled, only opening her eyes when Agatha held her a bit closer, almost touching their noses. Y/N felt as if she couldn't breathe. Her entire world crumbled when looking at Agnes like that. "You're so pretty, Aggy. And you're always here for me. And...and when you are this close, I feel like the only thing I want in this world..." She breathed out in a full smeared sentence. "Is to have you all to myself."

Agatha's digitals tingled with the need to sink her fingers and merge her skin with Y/N's. In all the centuries of her life, not once the sensation of such primal need crumbled the ever so calculatedly built walls of her existence. She eyed her with confusion, but then, with love. Y/N didn't need a second time to wonder what that meant when her lips crashed down onto hers. The sweet kiss was firstly a mere touch, but when the Maximoff's insides twisted and her fingers slid against the ones on her face, Agatha pulled her closer. There was an almost bestial growl that scaped the older woman, but her fingers gently stroke the other, bringing her in.

When they parted, their foreheads touched. Agatha had a smile that could light up the whole city of Westview. Y/N saw it up close, laughing slightly as she pressed the tip of her nose against Agnes'.

"Are you laughing at me, Dove?"

The nickname made Y/N raise an eyebrow, but that didn't stop her hand from cupping the nape of Agatha’s head, nails slightly running against it.

"I'm laughing with you." She answered, pecking Agatha's lips again. "I thought it would take you longer to kiss me."

"Were you betting how long i would take?"

"I was actually betting on how long I would take lose my patience. "

"If you knew I also liked you, why didn't you take the lead, Dove?" Agatha's hand took a strand of Y/N hair into her hands, twisting it. "Are you that stubborn.

"Don't you know me?"

Agatha laughed as she gazed at Y/N. There was a lot she didn't actually know about her, but she was okay to find out. Preferably outside her sister's influence, a problem the witch would have to figure out how to deal now. One thing she was sure: no matter what, she wouldn't let Wanda take you apart.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

pez dispenser debris for the fic ask thing? 👀

As much as this is my “kill no darlings you will get EVERY flashback” fic, there’s overarching sociopolitical backstory explaining why Izuku and the rest of class 3A exploded in the public eye that I don’t think I’ll ever fully fit in.

It’s a combination of it being more of a meta analysis than anything and also requiring information from a perspective that I know will never appear in the fic. Like, the fic still gets the different moments that make up this analysis, but there’s no explicit connecting thread to show how they all locked together to create this sort of global cult following of class 3-A. I almost put in a little fake news article opinion piece that was meant to sort of walk the reader through why society is Like This, but I decided it was too heavy handed and deleted it.

Everything that I’m going to reference has already appeared in pez dispenser debris to some degree, and none of it will ever actually materially impact the plot. They may receive a little more detail down the line if they’re mentioned in passing in the fic, so out of an abundance of caution, I’ll stick it below the cut so people can avoid this, but I don’t personally consider any of this spoilers.

Izuku and the rest of the class are famous in pez dispenser debris in a way that’s pretty much unprecedented for students. Canonically, not even all might had a name for himself until after his graduation. Pretty much everyone from class 3A are public figures, with Izuku specifically being considered a major global figure.

In my mind, there was this perfect storm right during their second year that catapulted them into fame. The class personally has varying levels of awareness of why they got so popular, but there was this perfect cross winds of societal unrest and fear that made them household names.

There was an approximately one month span in their second year where they were just hit one after another with a major firestorms of events: The UA Sports Festival, the Sidekick Strike, and the Tartarus Prison Break/Desertion of Yokohama.

The UA Sports Festival is the one that the kids attribute this most to, because so many of the news articles that followed referenced their performance in it. But it probably gave them less mileage than what the other two events did.

What the UA Sports Festival did was showcase their skills to the world in a venue designed to show them off. The public was already on edge. All Might had retired, crime rates kept going up, and people were rapidly losing confidence in existing heroes. Class 2A made such an insane showing of skill in the second Sports Festival that it made the public rave about them for weeks after. It was extremely reassuring to Japan that they had such powerful heroes in the barrel and would soon be on the streets. But that attention probably would have died down had it not been for the Sidekick Strike and Yokohama.

The Sidekick Strike actually had nothing to do with them. But it undermined the public’s faith in heroes at just the right time.

The Sidekick Strike is just one of those things that I have no POV that would even tangentially be involved in it so we’ll get a few passing references in media clips and it’ll never be discussed in depth. Which is a shame because it’s such an interesting conflict to me.

The Sidekick Strike was heavily inspired by the 1919 Boston Police Strike. Effectively, it was the height of the labor rights movement, and police officers got together and went on strike to get the police union recognized. They had tried to negotiate and negotiations failed, and so they all walked off the job. The city descended into lawlessness, the national guard was deployed, it was a whole thing. Famously, Calvin Coolidge fired the entire police force over it on the grounds that there was no striking from public safety.

I thought it would be really interesting if there was something similar that happened with the sidekicks. The thing is that the heroics structure as it stands really incentivizes abuse towards sidekicks. We have a society where there’s a decent amount of heroes who are only in it for the fame. A not insignificant amount of money must come from marketing deals. And it’s a ranked system, so they’re all in competition with each other.

Heroes wouldn’t be incentivized to showcase their sidekicks—they’d be incentivized to take advantage of them and take credit for their work.

Like, think about the work-study experiences. Momo didn’t even officially work for the hero she studied with. She wasn’t getting paid. An adult woman used her for a shampoo ad. Who wants to bet whether Momo saw a dime from it? It’s probably very predatory because the nature of the system incentivizes predation.

I thought the underlying legal issues would be interesting and complex. Who owns a sidekick’s image—the agency or the individual? Who gets the proceeds of their brand deals? This all would be governed by their employment contracts, and sidekicks just starting out have very little leverage compared to big name heroes. And those heroes would want to keep their sidekicks names small and theirs big. The rankings are competitive, after all.

It’s a situation where I do think that like. The sidekicks would have a point in unionizing. The use of their image, appropriate compensation, and proper credit for their busts would all be like, very legitimate concerns in a normal employment context.

I see agencies like Idaten settling immediately with the union and having their sidekicks back on the street before the day is out. In my mind, idaten is considered the gold standard for sidekick jobs already, and their employees mostly did it out of solidarity with the people they worked alongside of. Like, Idaten was already doing most of the union’s demands and signed off very quickly on the remaining ones. If it was just about the Idaten sidekicks, none of them would have gone on strike, but they had a lot of colleagues who they depended on in the field who were in terrible situations. What were they gonna say, sorry, sucks to be you, I got a great gig though so condolences? These were the people keeping them alive. They went on strike because they knew Idaten would publicly settle before the day was out and set an example for the rest of the agencies. Hopefully it would help other agencies follow their lead.

But that didn’t happen. Some agencies, like Endeavor’s, fired everyone immediately. And I think a lot of agencies spent a long time picking over every line item in prolonged negotiations. It dragged out.

And that went over fucking terribly.

All Might just retired. Crime is up. And their sworn defenders are bickering over who gets what cut of the action figure line. Like I think the public would have fucking hated this in a post-All Might world. It would have seemed like the only real hero just medically and irreversibly retired and the rest of them are squabbling about whose turn it is in the spotlight.

I also think that the villains would have taken advantage of it.

The Tartarus Prison Break in pez isn’t the one that happened in canon. Here, the League of Villains attacked Tartarus and set everyone loose. In the process, they made a very clear stance: they are going to leave with All for One, and they are not going to attack any civilians. They won’t fight at all unless attacked first.

All of the horrible and sadistic villains they just let go have not made the same promise.

They chose to do this now because of the Sidekick Strike. All their heroes don’t give a fuck about protecting them, so they’re strapped for staffing. So they’re taking back their leader and going back to ground, and the heroes are free to immediately go after and contain all those bad bad villains who just escaped. And those guys are headed to the heavily populated mainland, so better be quick.

The whole world knew that was their explicit reasoning and promise. Because Himiko fucking lived tweeted the escape.

The Sidekick Strike took the hit for a lot of the blame, but I do see all the sidekicks breaking strike lines to go respond to the crisis. But response times were severely handicapped by the fact that most if not all of them were cut off from their agencies. It was just a complete systemic breakdown.

And then there became the question of what crisis do you respond to: All for One’s escape, or everyone else’s?

I mentioned in one of the little fake tumblr posts that the Tartarus Prison Break was seen as Endeavor’s greatest failure. And part of that is because he chose to sacrifice the nearby area, Yokohama, to contain All for One.

I am one of the biggest haters of Endeavor’s later arc, specifically because it required going back on the nature of the abuse he had subjected his family to that was already established in canon, but that’s a different rant. This is not canon endeavor. I hate what they did with canon endeavor.

That being said, I do think that the self doubt weighed on him once he became number one. And this was the moment of his career where it really crushed him.

All for One had escaped. So had every other villain from Tartarus. He should go after the most immediate threats. He knew this. It was basic triage.

But they would never have a better chance to stop All for One.

Prisoners in Tartarus aren’t exactly hitting all their macros and micros or training daily. They are not adherents to the Bakugou Katsuki Fitness Lifestyle. All for One was coming off spending the last few months drugged up to his eyeballs and strapped to a chair in a straitjacket with at least fifty guns pointed at him at all times. The man has not scratched his own nose in weeks. He’s weaker now than he’ll ever be again.

It was their best chance.

If he escaped, and he went back to ground, he’d have the time and space to get as strong as he wanted, and then he’d come back for real. And he’d be coming back for everything.

Stopping him the first time had cost them All Might.

And Endeavor simply was not All Might. And he still wouldn’t be All Might when the next fight came.

It really was the hardest decision of Endeavor’s life. He had to admit to himself that his own inadequacy was going to cost them countless lives. But he thought it was a hard decision he had to make. He was losing the battle for the barest chance at winning the war.

So he made the call that all heroes were to respond to All for One. They had to hit the league of villains now with their full force if they were to stand a chance. They could not afford to divide their already sparse forces. They’d respond to Yokohama when AfO was contained.

He was also the one who made the call to broadcast the warning message that we hear in the Twitter post. He thought it would give civilians their best chance. He didn’t want them to act with the expectation of the heroes being en route.

Of course, that meant that the entire city got fucking sirens going off and a message telling them that the heroes were not going to save them. Which, as you can expect, did not do a lot for public morale.

In my head, Tartarus is like, the equivalent to Gotham’s Arkham. It’s borderline an institute for the criminally insane. You don’t end up there unless you did something super fucked, are super dangerous, and have extreme violent tendencies. It’s exclusively for the most dangerous and indiscriminately violent criminals in the country.

The entire world was watching in real time while the tragedy unfolded. A lot of people were livestreaming after the emergency broadcast dropped, because they didn’t want the government to be able to handwave away how terrible their death was, or because they didn’t know what else to do, or because they just didn’t want to be alone. The full expectation was that it’d be a massacre.

But it wasn’t. Because Class 2-A responded instead.

The Class 2-A defensive efforts were discussed in one of the silly little fake tumblr posts and in the fake twitter post. In those, we find out that 1) Class 2-A, along with Lemillion, Suneater, and Nejire responded to the scene; 2) the entire class rolled out of Mirio’s fucking mom van and tamaki and nejire’s cars like they were fucking clown cars; 3) the HPSC claimed it was a legitimate operation blessed and coordinated by them; and 4) a lot of people think this was a lie, in part because videos leaked of Aizawa bitching them all out in the street afterwards. We also see Izuku’s green lightning at the end of the twitter video, showing him responding to the scene just as the first villains hit the mainland.

This fight has a lot of names in the backstory that lives in my head. It’s called the Tartarus Prison Break for obvious reasons. It’s also been called in some circles the Desertion of Yokohama, because of the call Endeavor made.

But it’s also called the Battle of Yokohoma. And it’s ranked alongside the Battle of Kamino as one of the finest acts of modern day heroics. And that’s because of Class 2-A. If it hadn’t been for them showing up, it would have gone down in history as the Massacre of Yokohama.

Like. It kills me that I can’t include the full details of what happened, but there’s just too much to make in a flashback. It’s a fic in and of itself. But it really was the fight that made Class 2-A.

It was the first fight where they were really the only heroes that could be counted on. Granted, they’d had to fight for their lives alone, but this wasn’t just their lives. These were thousands of terrified civilians who all thought they were going to die.

It was the first true test of them as heroes in the world. And they actually rose to the occasion. They didn’t just fight the villains—they realized that they needed to get emergency services working throughout the city if everyone was going to make it. Momo and Tsuyu conducted a mildly hostile take over of the emergency call center so they could coordinate relief. They had fucking Tokoyami and Dark Shadow single-handedly holding the line on the hospital while Kaminari, Shoji, Jiro, and Sato all learned to drive for the Very First Time while commandeering the city’s fucking ambulances. They were fighting and containing villains, performing emergency aid, putting out literal fires, everything. It was the hardest fight of their lives.

There was a hot second where Class 2-A was The Moment. Like. The entire world was watching them during this fight, and they had no fucking idea until it was over. People lost their minds when the first footage made it out of Yokohama of a bunch of teenagers showing up and immediately throwing hands with S-Class villains.

It was global news. Think of the kind of media attention that was received by the search for the Titan, the Tham Luang Cave Rescue, the Suez Canal getting blocked by the Ever Given (rip queen you will always be famous to me), that kind of thing. Class 2-A was fighting for their fucking lives and then found out three days later while they were all still in the hospital that there was a prayer vigil going on in Portugal for them during the battle and CNN had 24 hours live coverage of the fight that had so many viewers it outnumbered the population of Finland. Like what do you even do with that information.

The world expected a massacre. They didn’t expect a bunch of footage of high schoolers kicking the shit out of superpowered murders and personally ferrying the injured to the hospitals they were also defending.

The other part about this fight that really made them permanently part of the public consciousness is that it was not lost on everyone that every single person who responded to that fight did so at the risk of their license.

All of them had provisional licenses, save Lemillion, Suneater, and Nejire, all of whom went AWOL from the explicit directives ordering them to respond to the fight against All for One. The operation could not have been less authorized. They had to steal their gear and jimmy the UA fence to even get out. The explicit plan was to steal one of the UA buses and have Bakugou fucking drive them to the fight (he also did not know how to drive but he seemed the most likely of them to break literally every single motor vehicle code to get them there but still be naturally talented at it enough to not kill them) but Izuku told Mirio what bullshit they were up to and Mirio, who was with Tamaki and Nejire when the news broke, immediately decided he would be on that bullshit too and pulled up in his mom van.

In my mind, there were strict rules around provisional licenses and how they could be used, and they broke pretty much all of them to respond to Yokohama. It would have been grounds to revoke their provisionals and permanently bar them from heroics. Lemillion, Suneater, and Nejire could have all lost their licenses for helping them and for going AWOL.

The HPSC fucking fell over themselves to legitimatize the entire operation. They knew they were utterly fucked if they didn’t. These kids already had murals being painted of their faces in other fucking countries. There was a little old lady in Kyoto livestreaming herself working overtime to embroider Iida’s face onto a cushion because that lovely young man saved her darling granddaughter from *checks notes* horrible and painful death directly caused by the failings of the current HPSC administration. There were multiple trending posts online agreeing to fucking riot if those kids got in trouble for this.

Every single actual hero in the immediate vicinity of this disaster had responded to fight a villain who wasn’t actually attacking anyone. And then they fucking lost. They publicly broadcast a message saying Good Luck Champs Because We’re Not Going To Save You. It was an actual PR nightmare that they had a bare chance of salvaging if they just latched onto these kids like an aggressive parasite and that is exactly what they did.

They totally knew. Actually, it was a joint operation coordinated by and between UA and and the HPSC. Why would the kids be in trouble?? They had responded because the HPSC told them to.

UA gave it a week of dead silence and then issued a short statement praising the bravery of their students in a recent HPSC approved mission, and then they never said another word about it. They didn’t have any choice but to go along with the HPSC’s story. If they contradicted them, all of class 2-a would find their licenses pulled by the end of the day, and lord knows they wouldn’t wait for the court of public opinion to work its magic and would just all go out and become fucking vigilantes, because why not. Aizawa has aged 100 years since he got this class. Every single day he thinks of how it was a 50/50 shot between him and Vlad.

No one in the class is fully aware of just how famous they were in the immediate aftermath, because the school bent over backwards to try and shield them from it as much as possible. Like, they have an idea, but none of them saw the full explosion firsthand because of just how hard the school worked to keep it from them. Aizawa confiscated the internet router and told them it was punishment for whatever the fuck they did to the buses (thank god Mirio was just as crazy as them because they were NOT GOOD at hotwiring cars) but really it was to try and insulate them from it a little bit. Like. Japan’s Imperial Family wanted to do an official visit. The White House offered to host them. They received interview requests from every major talk show on the planet. Buzzfeed wanted to do a puppy interview with them.

Right now, Aizawa’s terrified for Midoriya’s graduation, but in the aftermath of that, he was breathing into a paper bag about all of them. Society had sort of latched onto them like they were the last life raft on the titanic. All for One was back, and All Might wasn’t, and the heroes had publicly broadcast a message saying they were useless, but don’t fucking worry, fifteen year old Iida Tenya is on the case. Society will be upheld by Kaminari Denki, currently viral for driving a real life city ambulance one hundred miles per hour down the street while screaming “WEE WOO BITCH.” And don’t forget the pillar that will be Mina Ashido, who rushed over to him earlier that day to show him her extra sparkly pink nails. And if you have a major fight that needs to be won? Don’t fucking worry, just send out bone-breaking boy wonder Midoriya Izuku and his equally reckless brother Toogata Mirio, because their dumbasses managed to take down an S-Class villain team that only All Might could defeat the first time around. Don’t worry about the multi week hospitalization they needed after, because that’s an acceptable burden to put on children.

When Aizawa started this job, he promised himself he would never send a student out to die. Some of them would die. But it would be tragedy, not damnation. He’d have given them their best chance. Part of the reason why he made that promise was because he sort of felt like his teacher sent him out set up to die, and it’s only luck that he made it through his first couple of years.

He has gone to the funeral of every single student he has ever had who did not make it. He goes back to their graves every year.

He was fucking petrified after Yokohama that society would push these kids too far too soon. Every single one of his classes before them had gotten the benefit of being practically unknown their first few years. They didn’t have the world talking about them like they were already the top heroes. He was terrified they wouldn’t have the space to learn and grow when they started.

A lot of teachers would have tried to mine the notoriety of Yokohama to hard launch their students’ careers. Aizawa told Nedzu point blank that he would quit tomorrow if he did not help him quash this thing as much as possible, and nedzu agreed.

This world killed its real heroes. It sucked them dry and left them like All Might, and he just needed fucking time. He needed fucking time to let them be kids and maybe they’d survive.

Izuku ended up being the one who escaped the aftermath of everything the least. His Quirk was too much like All Might’s for the world to let go of him easily.

And then Stain got fucking dogpiled by idaten in the aftermath of the Tartarus prison break and implied he considered Izuku the only true hero in the absence of all might and everyone started asking super inconvenient questions like “how does stain even know you exist” and “no really he called you by your actual legal name how does he even know that” and it just. It didn’t help things. Izuku’s suffering.

So yeah. There was just this absolute collision of a total lack of faith in current heroes combined with a huge swell of public trust in class 2-a that led us to being in the landscape we are now. All of the currently licensed heroes said that they wouldn’t be there to save the public, and then Class 2-A immediately hit back that they would be there. Actually, they’ll risk everything to be there. They’ll die to protect the public and they’ll risk the entire future they had been trying to build and they will fucking be there to save them.

There’s a lot of people that never forgave the heroes for deserting Yokohama. And there’s even more people who have absolute faith in Izuku and his classmates because they didn’t. That’s why the world is watching them so aggressively. These kids are the most trusted heroes in Japan right now.

I wish I could fit in more about what happened, because I love this backstory so much, but 1) some of it absolutely requires POVs like Endeavors, which we won’t get in pez dispenser debris, 2) there’s no one POV that could tell the full story via flashback and 3) it’d just be too long of a divergence. Like. It really is a whole fic of its own. I’d love to write it one day but I probably won’t have the time

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 22

WARNINGS: swearing, mention of food and eating, depiction of an anxiety attack

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: ♡PENED

W♡RD C♡UNT: 2,972

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 21

A/N: I wasn't planning on writing this chapter so soon but on of you sent me a ko-fi and it kinda motivated me to get this chapter done and out.

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©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

You flip through the menu for the fifth time trying to figure out what to eat. Hyunjin and Wonseok happily chat along in their own little world about some art movement—you lost the plot of their conversation ages ago when they started about a specific type of paint and technique that you’re not even going to try to pronounce. Changbin sits across from you, absent-mindedly fiddling with his menu and nodding to the ongoing conversation.

“Are we boring you so much that you’re just going through the menu? Again?” Wonseok asks suddenly.

“I don’t know what to eat,” You grumble quietly.

Wonseok reaches over and turns a few pages in your menu. When he finds the page he's looking for he traces the page with his finger until he lands on one of the menu items. "They have fish and chips right here."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd take us to an actual restaurant. I can't order fish and chips while the three of you order...whatever you're going to order. It's like if I went to a restaurant back home and just ordered tteok-bokki...or if we were in the States and I got chicken tenders and fries." You gently push Wonseok's hand away from you and roll your eyes.

Wonseok pulls back his hand and brings it to his temples, almost as if he's starting to get a headache. "This is probably the only time I'm going to get to treat professional idols to a meal, I'm not just going to give them street food. Just order what you really want to eat because you're not going to be able to order fish and chips for dinner at the place we're going to. I don't want to hear you complain about not eating what you wanted for the rest of my life."

You huff out a 'fine' as you close your menu and set it to the side. Your eyes land on Changbin who is quietly scribbling something on a piece of paper that seems to have materialized. You quietly shake your head and turn your attention to Hyunjin who is looking between you and Wonseok, thinking hard about something.

"You know, Wonnie, Hyunjin is an amazing artist." You pull up your broken arm from resting on your lap. "He's the one who drew all over my cast. He posts some of his stuff on his Instagram. He's probably even carrying around his sketchbook in that tote bag of his..."

"Ah, noona..." Hyunjin's voice trails off as he scratches the back of his neck. You can't see his ears under his hat but you can almost imagine how red they're getting.

Wonseok takes your broken arm and carefully examines the doodles and drawings on your cast. Most of them are flowers and plants. Occasionally, there are little characters like the BbokAri he drew next to Felix's message and the puppy next to Seungmin's. There's hardly any room left for anyone else to write anything. Before you forbade any of the members from hanging out with you without someone else there, Hyunjin would find his way to you when he was bored and draw on your arm.

"Wow, these are amazing, Hyunjin! Do you mind if I look at your sketchbook?"

Your arm is returned to you as Wonseok and Hyunjin get wrapped up in yet another art-filled conversation. Changbin is still focused on his piece of paper, scribbling away. Part of you wishes you could pull out the small tablet you brought with you so you could work on editing photos on the ride to the gallery. But you know that'll only cause Wonseok to scold you for working when you're not supposed to. If you could offer more thought to Wonseok and Hyunjin's conversation that isn't just regurgitated garbage from your first-year introduction to art history course that you took back in university, then you could easily join in their conversation.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you sit up a bit straighter in your seat and rest your chin in your good hand. "What are you so focused on writing there Changbin?"

There's a moment of silence between the two of you. He pauses writing but you're not sure if he heard you or is thinking of what to write.

"Lyrics," He mumbles so softly that you almost miss it amongst the noise that is Wonseok and Hyunjin chattering loudly beside you.

"Did you get an idea just now?" You perk up in your seat a bit. "Can...can I see? I won't write about it. It's all off the record."

Changbin's head stays low, focusing on writing his lyrics. It's only now that you're reminded of his inability to focus on more than one thing at a time. The fact that he answered you earlier is strange and probably the most he can do.

You watch him silently as he works. You take note of all of the little things you see. Like the way his brows twitch as he tries not to furrow then while he scribbles something out. Or how the fingers on his nondominant hand dance on the table while his head subtly bops along to a rhythm only known to him. Whether he's simultaneously creating a beat in his head while he works or he's remembering a song that one of the other members of 3racha made is another unknown factor that you wish you knew the answer to. You notice the way he mouths out the words he's writing to himself and how quickly he presses his lips together and shakes his head when it appears to not flow correctly. You can only imagine that this is what it was like watching Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel; hypotonic.

You only break out of your trance when your server comes to the table and takes your order, something that neither you nor Changbin noticed until Wonseok and Hyunjin told you. And that's when Changbin finally looked up and caught you staring at him, forcing you to look away as heat rose to your face. Wonseok took advantage of the situation and ordered your food for you before you could change your mind.

After lunch, the four of you decided to walk around London for a bit. When you were working with Han and Seungmin yesterday, you made sure to avoid the more populated and obvious tourist areas, only capturing notable landmarks in the distant background. With more freedom to explore, you all head to the more touristy areas so Hyunjin and Changbin can blend in more seamlessly.

As you walk along the crowded streets, the earlier pain you felt inside the art galley quickly comes back. You're paying less attention to the conversation between Wonseok and Hyunjin and more to your surroundings. Despite the cool day, you feel suffocatingly hot. Almost like something is sucking all of the air out of your lungs.

"...Y/n!"

You snap out of whatever daze you're in at the sound of Wonseok's worried voice. You glance up to meet three concerned faces watching you carefully.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" Your voice is thick is unsteady as you're unable to meet any of their eyes.

"Are you okay? You're walking slowly. I thought we lost you in the crowd for a moment there."

You swallow hard as you try to settle your rapidly beating heart. "I think I ate too much earlier. My stomach hurts."

"You look kind of pale, noona," Hyunjin chimes in. "Maybe we should head back to the hotel?"

You wave Hyunjin off quickly. "N-no, it's okay. I just need a moment."

"I'll go get you some water." Wonseok's voice softens with a gentle tone as he looks around for a shop.

Hyunjin places one hand on Wonseok's shoulder, stopping him from trying to look through the crowd. He pulls his bucket hat off with his other hand, gaining a clear view of the area. "We've been here a few times. I think I know where there's a shop nearby. I'll help you find it, hyung."

"Okay, thank you. Changbin, are you okay watching Y/n?" Wonseok asks the younger man.

Too focused on the unsettling feeling growing through your body, you don't notice that Changbin's already watching you. He's been silently keeping an eye on you since you started to fall behind on your walk. Had Wonseok waited a second longer to notice you, Changbin would have said something to bring their attention to you.

"I got her," He says simply.

With that, Hyunjin tosses something at Changbin and leads Wonseok forward through the crowd. Changbin quietly pulls you off to the side away from the crowd, under the shade of a tree. You mumble out what you hope is a 'thank you,' and focus on Changbin's shoes. They're white sneakers a blue stripe going through them. Subconsciously, you start to count the small holes near the end of the shoe while you place your hand on your chest. You feel your heart beating rather quickly like it's beating a little too hard and might give out at any moment. You apply as much pressure with your hand and take deep, unsteady breaths as you try to calm your heart.

You feel something cover your head, partly obstructing your vision and muffling the outside noise. You look back up at Changbin who is now adjusting Hyunjin's bucket hat that he put on your head.

"Professional idol secret," His words come slowly as he continues to fix the rim around the hat. "A lot of us don't do well in crowds so we wear bucket hats to block out the noise and the view a bit. Fans think we wear them to hide our hair for comebacks, but most of the time it's to protect our sanity."

You swallow dryly, unable to wet your suddenly parched throat. "I go to concerts and fan signs for a living. I do well in crowds."

Changbin crouches down so you can see him under the protection of the bucket hat, a tender smile warms his whole face. It's the first time you've seen him smile since the gallery. "In the past, yeah, but...you have the same expression on your face that you've been getting when we're at the airport lately. You kind of look like Hannie when he's having an anxiety attack."

"I don't have anxiety attacks," You're not sure if you're telling Changbin or reassuring yourself. You can't remember a single moment in your life where you've had an anxiety attack. So why would you start now?

"Okay," Changbin nods before standing up straight again, your view of him is once again obstructed by the hat. He gently takes your hand off of your chest and places it on his own. "At the very least, match my breathing. You sound like you just ran a marathon and I can't help you if you pass out. I don't know cpr."

The two of you stand there for a moment. Changbin's hand is firmly on yours as he keeps it on his chest. You have no choice but to match his breathing by following the steady rising and falling of his chest. You can feel the subtle, yet rapid thuds of his heart beating in his chest despite how calm he is.

Slowly, but surely, your own breathing falls into its own steady rhythm and the strange feeling in your body dissipates. You're not exactly sure how long the two of you stand like that, but eventually you drop your hand from his chest and Changbin let's you.

"Better?"

You slowly nod your head. Most of your discomfort is gone, but you still feel jittery. Almost as if you injected straight caffeine into your bloodstream. "Yeah, I just need to sit down."

Changbin doesn't ask further questions and instead leads you to the small grassy area near the tree and urges you to sit. He joins you on the grass, falling back into silence. Now that you're relatively back to normal, you can't help but avoid looking at Changbin. You're more thankful for the hat now that it can help you avoid his gaze.

The two of you sit there in silence for a few more minutes before Wonseok and Hyunjin find you. Hyunjin is about to question why you're wearing his hat before Changbin stands up and pulls Hyunjin to the side for a moment to talk to him.

Wonseok takes one of the empty spots beside you and rummages through the plastic bag he brought back with you. He pulls out a water bottle and a small metal tin and hands them to you. "I watched a TikTok ages ago and a doctor on there said that mint is supposed to be good for an upset stomach."

"Thank you," You smile tiredly at Wonseok.

Hyunjin and Changbin make their way back to you. Hyunjin takes the other open spot next to you while Changbin sits on the other side of him. They're quiet for a moment while you continue to drink your water and eat the mints that Wonseok bought. Wonseok passes out the other water bottles from his bag to Hyunjin and Changbin.

Surprisingly, Changbin breaks the silence first, asking if the store that Wonseok and Hyunjin went to was crowded. Then the conversation shifted to what everyone planned to do later. Wonseok tells them about your now tentative dinner plans, which leads to an argument. You change the subject to see what the newlywed couple of the group had planned. The conversation shifts again, this time to souvenirs that all of you want to get. Which of course leads to another teasing argument that ends with Wonseok trying to make you spill water on yourself.

"You two are such a cute couple. How long hav--"

You choke on your water as Hyunjin's words catch you off guard and trickle down the wrong pipe. Wonseok has his own visceral reaction, one that you don't see but you can hear the sound of him gagging at the question. Still, Wonseok slaps your back to help you get the water out.

"We--are not--dating." You choke out as you try to regain your composure.

"Y/n is like my little sister," Wonseok adds as he drops his hand back to his side.

Both Hyunjin and Changbin have confused expressions as they watch the two of you. Hyunjin opens and closes his mouth like a fish as he lets out confused babbles. "Sorry, I just thought...you two are...when..."

"Wonseok hyung is older than you but you two talk casually. Plus you're so close." Changbin says finally. Hyunjin shuts his mouth and nods quickly, agreeing with Changbin's reasoning.

"That's because Wonnie is a pathological liar--ouch!" You rub the spot on your leg where Wonseok hit you and glare at him. Although, you're not sure he saw your face through the hat.

"Stop telling people that I'm a pathological liar." You don't have to see to know that he's rolling his eyes. Wonseok shifts a bit and faces Hyunjin and Changbin. "I enlisted right after I graduated high school to get my military service over with. I ended up liking it so much that I stayed for two more years. When I finally enrolled in university, I was so much older than everyone in my classes that I just never mentioned how old I was. I met Y/n our senior year during our internship so I never said anything. She didn't know that I was older until we got our official IDs with our birth year on them."

"And he's so much older," You crack a smile.

"Stop that, I'm only 3 years older than you."

"Whatever," You wave him off as you turn back to the two younger men. "Besides, we're really like family. His parents treat us like siblings."

"Plus I have a girlfriend."

"And he has a girlfri..." Your voice falters in the middle of your sentence as you think about it for a moment. You turn to Wonseok and blink for a moment as you try to process what's happening. "You got a girlfriend? You actually got a woman to talk to you? Romantically? Who is it? Do I know her?"

His lips form a line so tight that the skin around them turns white while he tries to think. You flip part of the bucket hat up so you can see his have better. He's looking down at a blade of grass, contemplating something before he meets your eyes. "Frankie,"

"My Frankie?"

"Well, technically our Frankie but yeah." He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

"Oh," Your heart rapidly sinks to the bottom of your stomach.

You physically bite your tongue to prevent yourself from asking a million questions. Knowing that your best friends are dating behind your back hurts. Especially when there's an unspoken agreement against keeping secrets. So why did…

"I'm going to throw this all away and then we can explore a bit more." You get up quickly and take everyone's now empty water bottle.

If you stay where you are and continue to let your mind wander any further, you're going to either say something rude to Wonseok or burst into tears. You're happy that your friends found happy relationships. But they kept it from you and the idea of that doesn't feel good in your head or your heart.

"Noona--"

Wonseok puts his arm out, preventing Changbin from going after you. You're out of ear range as you walk quickly to the trashcan. Wonseok turns to both younger men and shares a small smile. "I get it but if you try to comfort Y/n when she's upset, it's going to become a bigger issue. Trust me, she hate when people see her upset or cry. Just let her have a moment and then she'll be okay."

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[fuckyeahisawthat]

Re-skimmed through a bunch of Dune Messiah last night because why not and now I am having thoughts:

The thing that sticks with me most is the tone. It's melancholy, it's eerie, it's unsettled and weird. Cannot think of a more pitch-perfect director for it than Denis Villeneuve. He's gonna nail it.

There is...not that much...actual story? Denis has referred to it in interviews as "a small book" and I'm like my guy it is 350 pages. But there are actually not that many plot beats. It's just that every. single. scene. is WILDLY overwritten. The real challenge of adapting Dune is not the giant worms or the dense complicated worldbuilding or the fact that actors have to say the name "Duncan Idaho" repeatedly with a straight face. It's that there are pages and pages and PAGES of internal monologue that have to be externalized somehow for film.

After a re-skim my gut instinct for "how much story goes in a feature film" is that if you just wrote out the dialogue and action that happens in every scene in the book in screenplay format you'd end up with...maybe about an hour of material? Which is great, actually, because it means there is room to add stuff. Like a whole new independent plotline for Chani if they decide to do that.

It may seem insane to add things to an adaptation of what's notoriously one of the wordiest series in classic sci-fi but it's worth remembering that they added quite a bit to Dune Part Two. Most of the first hour of the movie--almost everything before the worm ride except for Jessica drinking the Water of Life--is stuff that isn't in the book. And it's the best part of the movie essential to making the movie work as well as it does. Yes, they also cut elements from both parts (the dinner scene, the whole plotline where Gurney thinks Jessica is a Harkonnen spy, Thufir Hawat's fate, Leto II the Elder, murder toddler Alia) but I understand why each of those elements was cut or changed in the service of cinematic storytelling.

There's an interview (can't remember which one) with Jon Spaihts, the other co-writer of the scripts along with Denis, where he talks about how Dune is like a stage play, with so many of what would be the big action set pieces happening off-page. I kept thinking about that comparison while reviewing Dune Messiah because in addition to the scenes that do exist being wordy and internal as fuck, an absolutely insane list of major events/reveals/emotionally significant moments happen off-page. The list of things that we don't actually see in the main action of the story, that we're only told about after they happen, includes:

Chani finding out Irulan has been secretly dosing her with birth control for YEARS

People trying to capture a sandworm and take it off planet

Chani and Paul finding out Chani is pregnant after 12 years of trying to conceive

Paul flying an ornithopter carrying his extremely-about-to-go-into-labor partner while blind

CHANI DYING (first time reading I did NOT know this was coming and damn near threw my Kindle across the room at the way the information was delivered)

Alia executing a bunch of people including a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother

Paul walking into the desert at the end

You could add all these moments into a scene-for-scene film adaptation of the book and probably still have room to add more material.

The other thing that jumps out is that Paul doesn't really...govern...much. Like there's this whole subgenre of post-Dune/Dune Messiah-era fic that's just some combination of Paul, Chani, Irulan and sometimes Feyd traipsing around the palace having feelings while vague politics happens in the background, but I forgot that Dune Messiah is actually kinda like that??

There is a whole thread of Paul feeling kind of abstractly bad about being Space Hitler but he does not, in fact, actually do anything about it. And like yes both bureaucracies and religious movements can grow to have a life of their own that seems beyond the control of any one person. But also my dude you are the Emperor of the Known Universe. Someone is signing those space checks for the Endless War budget. You are not powerless here.

The one thing that really, clearly drives Paul to actively do things in the plot is not feeling guilty about having unleashed catastrophic religious war on the universe. It is protecting his family. Chani, Alia, his unborn children, and you could probably throw in Duncan by the end. That is what motivates him to act at key moments, and to want to hold on to power. And hey, y'know, if I'd experienced almost everyone I'd ever known getting murdered in a single night, I would probably get a bit intense about that too! It makes sense from a character point of view!

I'm very curious to see how these threads interweave with each other in the film, because the Villeneuve films put a lot of emphasis on Paul's agency and the fact that he may be constrained by shitty circumstances thousands of years in the making, but he still makes choices within that context. I can't see the narrative allowing film!Paul to get away with the same Poor Little Dictator routine as in the book. There are a few ways they could play this but I think the most interesting one is kinda the way they started going at the end of Part Two. Which is that as soon as you start reaching for that kind of power, then power becomes its own end and you will end up doing increasingly horrific things to maintain it. I think it would be quite interesting if the film shows us Paul not just being like "woe is me" but actively choosing to make the world worse because his trauma-driven fear of losing the people he loves makes him cling ever more desperately to power for its own sake.

If they went this route I think it would make Paul's decision at the end hit even harder. FWIW I actually really like Paul walking off into the desert at the end of the book. I think it brings things full circle with his relationship to the Fremen and creates this beautiful arc going back to the duel with Jamis. He first won a place among the Fremen through respecting their customs even though he really did not want to fight and kill someone he had no beef with. And by respecting the Fremen custom of the blind walking off into the desert, he proves himself to be fully Fremen and protects his children not by making them heirs to the throne but by making them Fremen.

And yeah, to a modern audience here on Earth it can look like "Paul conveniently fucks off and doesn't have to raise his newly-motherless children." And we can have a whole discussion about the unexamined ableism of the idea of someone who's gone blind voluntarily choosing death so as to "not be a burden" on their community. But neither of those readings is really the point here. Within the logic of Fremen cultural values, where the survival of the group as a whole is more important than the life of any one individual ("your water belongs to the tribe" etc.) Paul's choice is a willing and intentional self-sacrifice (see also: fedaykin) that wins him huge respect. There's a line in the book about Paul that's like "He would be one of them forever now" and damn if that didn't give me shivers. Like!! The political-symbolic implications!!! Which maybe I'm particularly attuned to because I just wrote a whole fic about what does it mean for an outsider to become Fremen but hmm something something Paul's final* act not being an exercise of Imperial power but an expression of kinship with an oppressed group and that being the thing that's needed to keep his family safe even if he is not physically present with them...IT IS RICH SYMBOLIC TERRITORY.

(*Yes yes I know about events in the next book. Shush.)

This kind of stuff is why I tend to think Chani may start out in a very different place in the story but the end will still be pretty close to what's in the book. It's too thematically powerful and tragic to go any other way.

But also...if they change things around enough that she is still alive at the end of the movie...I won't be sad about it.

[saddled-on-stars]

Hellooo, may I request something Keatlejuice x reader ?

I was thinking of something inspired from the “do you think I’m qualified” scene from the first movie and basically the idea is: Beetlejuice keeps flirting with reader, which hasn’t been very successful so far… But at some point his voice switches back to his “normal” one and reader pauses because since when does he sound so good??

He notices the reaction and kind of uses it to his advantage to make reader swoon hehe

Thank youu :))

okay- don't mess this up, don't mess this up, don't mess this up... HI THERE MY LITTLE LOVELY CONSTELLATION! Okay, full disclosure, I've never watched either of the Beetlejuice movies. I don't really know how the model exactly works, so I'll make it to similar to the musical; where you just find him on the roof. (I HOPE THAT'S OKAY, DARLING) So yeah, I've never watched either of the movies... I KNOW THE PLOT OF THE FIRST ONE THOUGH, AND I WILL EVENTUALLY WATCH THEM BOTH I SWEA- As far as Keatlejuice goes, I don't know a thing about that scene, and nothing came up when I looked it up, so I'm just going to go off of what you typed. 😀 Please feel free to criticize if it's inaccurate. OKAY, HERE YA GO, LOVELY <3 Happy reading! - Star ★ -★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Trigger Warnings: Explicit Language, Suggestive Themes, Mentions of Break-Up -★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Key: ★ (Y/N) = Your Name ★ (L/N) = Last Name -★-★-★-★-★-★-★- - ★ - Spooky Smooth - ★ - Lying on your bed, listening to some music, it's about 2am. You have your earbuds in, connected to your phone, and are wearing some comfortable shorts and your favorite hoodie. You begin fiddling with the drawstrings, thinking of who gave it to you, then you frown in sadness. It was given to you by your now ex-partner, and they were a jerk. A TOTAL JERK. It all ended at dinner last night. But you hung on, and you still can't figure out why. But that's not why you're sad. You're angry and upset and heartbroken all at the same time, for letting yourself believe that they loved you. It crushed your heart into billions of pieces when they repeated to you that you just weren't good enough. They weren't the first ex, definitely not, and so, as usual, you thought they were the one. You poured your heart and soul into that relationship, only to have your heart shattered. You saw them in the bed with that fucking chick from some cheap-ass bar. You were so angry that you did things to them that you weren't proud of. You impaled all four tires on their small old Nissan Versa, to be specific. You wanted to do so much more, but your heart couldn't take it, and it crushed you in the most tragic way possib-

You drift back to reality as you hear something shuffling above you. It sounds like it's coming from the attic or the roof. You assume it's some sort of critter, and almost fix your earbuds back into your ear, until you hear something... sobbing, perhaps? Sniffling? Letting your curiosity get the best of you, you push your earbuds back in, still listening to the sad, yet comforting music, and you climb out of your window onto the roof. You climb up to the top, and quickly find yourself captivated by the stars. It seems to ground you for the first time you've felt content in a while. You pause your music, hearing something else. It's the sound of a small flyer blowing in front of you. Curiously, you grab it, wondering what it might say. Betelguese - The Bio-Exorcist. Speak my name three times. Betelguese? Like the star? Eh, sounds strange, and this flyer seems pretty aged and old. But how'd it get up high on the roof? You consider calling whoever this 'Betelguese' person is. If they're a bio-exorcist, then they could get rid of your nasty ex. After all, that bitch has some shit comin'. "Bettle-goose, Bettle-goose, Bettle-goose." You close your eyes, expecting something crazy to happen, but the only movement and sound are the stars twinkling and the crickets below chirping. You suddenly see another flyer blow by, and you pick that one up as well. Beetlejuice - The Bio-Exorcist. Speak my name three times. Now you understood. Whoever this person is, they must be here, and so, you put your earbuds back in their designated case, preparing for what's to come. You hold your hoodie in a self-hug, bracing yourself and you begin: "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice." You close your eyes once again, fearing that something large might happen that might spook you, but instead you hear a raspy voice say, "It's showtime~" Suddenly, a giant puff of green smoke appears in front of you, and you're slightly startled, but your curiosity overpowers your fear. Standing there before you is some sort of creature? No, this must be the Beetlejuice guy. He's in a black-and-white striped tuxedo, complete with some typical black shoes. Though, it's all dirty, covered in green spots from here to there. His hair is a pale green, sticking out in all different directions, and his eyes are surrounded by black circles, and you can't tell if it's a fashion choice or not. "Hiya, Babes!", he says, his voice still raspy and rough. "H-Hello..", you reply, slightly still startled. He comes over and sits on the roof in front of you. "So, I heard ya' called m'name three times! Tre!", he says as he's holding up three fingers, his fingernails looking a little overgrown. 'He knows Italian? How strange...', you think. He puts his elbows on his knees, and lays his head on his hand, in a relaxed position. "So what's a pretty lil' thing like YOU doing, callin' a bio-exorcist?", he says, his eyes filled with flirtation. Damn. Straight to the point, you guess. "I-I've had my heart broken by some bitch, and I need you to get rid of them...", you say, while trying to avoid eye contact, as you can feel your eyes show your anger. His other hand comes up to his face as well, until he's resting in both of his hands. "Well then, who's the bastard, and we can make a deal, Babes! Don't worry, I don't bite-", he says as his hands come back to his knees and he leans closer.

"Unless... if you're into that sort of thing, Babes..", he says as he winks, his voice suddenly changed. It's no longer raspy and rough, but DAMN, it's smooth and gentle. You feel your cheeks flush, definitely flustered from his flirtatious remark. "I- uh, uhm-...", you stutter, trying to find the words to respond. He chuckles at your reaction, and he replies to you stuttering, "So, what do ya say, Babes? Wanna make a deal with the devilishly sexy?”.

He's so close to your face now, it's almost burning with electricity. You nod slowly, not knowing how else to respond. You've been holding your breath for a long time now, but your lungs are far from their limit. He winks, and brushes your thigh with his hand, and snaps his fingers. You release the breath you've been holding, as you realize that he's dissappeared into a cloud of smoke, leaving you breathless. "Damn, that voice..."

- ★ - Written by Saddled_On_Stars - ★ -

[lyculuscaelus]

Just a gentle reminder that EPIC the Musical is a musical. It’s not a movie script, not a play adaptation, but a musical itself. Which means, to talk about it with anything less is inorganic, is missing an important piece of the story itself. Because it’s not just the lyrics that display the scene—music tells its own story too.

The way the soundscape for each saga (and sometimes different songs themselves) is so unique that it creates the atmosphere for this certain event almost immediately, the experience of which you cannot go through merely by reading the script. With the Cyclops Saga we have a dark and edgy theme, with the Circe Saga we have a more tropical (mostly due to the drums) and at the same time elegant one (due to the strings), with the Underworld Saga we have this very gloomy theme which is straight up Underworld feels…this is very common for music, but it’s just something you won’t get from the script.

The way the delivery of so many lines is so good that you can feel the emotions so vividly—something lyrics alone can’t display. (Which is also the reason why there’re so many lamenting paragraphs in tragic plays and why there’re pauses between spoken lines in writings where writers describe the expression and movement of characters.) The way you can hear the anguish and desperation in the delivery of so many lines from Mutiny, the way you can feel the emotional struggle of Odysseus at the end of Thunder Bringer in the way Jay sings…there’re so many moments where you just feel the raw emotions coming from those lines that you can’t experience it by reading the lyrics and interpreting with wild guesses.

The way the reoccurring motifs and riffs tell so many things that lyrics won’t is already well-known. Danger is nearby motif already gives you the alert of what is to come; storm motif depicts a harsh encounter on sea that it captures that moment so well; that specific motif from those three songs (the beginning of the second verse of The Horse and the Infant, the first and second verse of Survive, the beginning of the second half of Mutiny) is foretelling the turning point of events (and also asking someone to kill the other being)…and then we have characters’ own motifs. Odysseus’s cunning motif shows the moment where he plots the course of action; Athena’s Warrior of the Mind motif already indicates her appearance and more; Polites’s Open Arms motif just destroys your emotions cuz why not; Eurylochus’s Luck Runs Out motif shows the development of the dynamics between him and his Captain…there’re so many to rant about that I just can’t put them all in this one post. As for the riffs, the most famous one is of course the way Athena and Odysseus and Telemachus sing “miiiiind”/“fiiiiiine”/etc. as Jay has already yapped about in his video, which just shows the dynamics between these three characters so perfectly. Hey look, another thing which the script won’t tell you.

And then we have these characters’ own instruments. I don’t even think I’ll need to elaborate on this one. Most of you have known that already and understood how genius this idea is even though it’s not Jay who came up with it. This is totally something you can only experience in the music itself, but meanwhile it says a lot about the scene already. As in Done For where Odysseus’s electric guitar continues playing under Circe’s lines which indicates he has taken hold of the situation already (even though temporarily). It might be a minor thing, but still it’s very well-thought, and sometimes even foreshadowing (like how Poseidon’s trumpets have already shown up in Storm).

…

There’re so many things to rant about this musical that a single post is far from enough to discuss them all. Here I’m only pointing out that EPIC is an organic combination of lyrics and music (and action when it comes to stage production which I believe it will eventually) that it’s impossible to treat them separately while still getting the whole story right. Once again, the piece you’re talking about is not a stage play—it’s a musical that is epic.

[bambisworlds]

the freak and the new girl (2)

part one, part three

eddie munson is the freak of hawkins high. y/n is the new girl. like eleven, she was taken in by hopper after getting rescued from the lab. y/n has been in bad relationship after bad relationship since attending public school and was starting to give up on finding a healthy, loving relationship until eddie munson changed everything (1,827 word count).

content warnings, mdni 18+

f!reader, hopper!reader, bisexual!reader, telekinetic!reader, no physical reader description, reader grew up in the lab like eleven, reader can sing, slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff fluff fluff, underage drinking, billy is a dick and gets physical with reader (no hitting he just grabs her), protective!eddie, eddie gets in a physical fight, verrrry mild gore, jason carver and billy hargrove are readers exes, this follows the season 2 plot but the party are freshmen instead cause it makes things easier, eleven is in public school for the season 2 plot, let me know if i forgot anything x

my masterlist

After weeks of debating, I gathered the courage to show more of my songs to Eddie. But, this time fully recorded songs on a mixtape.

“Okay don’t make fun of me.” I start, standing beside Eddie at his locker.

“No promises.” he teases with his killer smile.

“I made a mixtape of my songs for you to listen to,” I say and he smiles wider.

“You made me a mixtape of your favorite songs?” he asks and I sigh.

“Well, no, they’re songs I wrote. Songs I sing.” I elaborate and his face lights up.

“Those are your songs on there?!” he grabs the mixtape out of my hand excitedly, “Fuck yeah I’ll listen to them, why didn’t say so in the first place?” he babbles and I roll my eyes.

“Here’s the tracklist.” I hand him a crumpled-up piece of paper.

“Ten songs? Ten?!” he gapes at me excitedly.

“Well, actually, I have like 30-ish completed songs.”

“YOU HAVE THIRTY COMPLETED SONGS?!” he shouts in the hallway and I shush him.

“It’s not that big of a deal.” I laugh nervously.

“Corroded Coffin has like… 15 songs. Not even,” he answers quietly.

“Well, you better get on that then.” I joke.

The next morning Eddie greeted me with not only my mixtape but one of his own. “This has some Corroded Coffin songs on it for you to fall in love with.” he gloats.

“Confident are we?” I smile and he lets out a chuckle.

“Actually not really I’m just trying to hype it up.” he says and pulls a piece of paper out of his back pocket “This is also for you.” 

“What is it?” I ask, opening up the paper.

“All the things I liked about your songs,” he answers and I could literally feel myself swoon.

“Eddie… that’s so nice of you. Thank you.”

For the following week or so we swapped mixtapes nearly every day, wanting to show each other our favorite songs and artists. It was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. But, of course, a high always ends with a low.

“You and the freak, huh?” Billy asks me, standing far too close for comfort. I tried to dodge him, but he’s got me cornered at my locker.

“What’s it to you?” I ask, crossing my arms, “You dumped me for Heather. Not happy anymore? Did she bore you like I did?”

“When did you get such a smart mouth on you? Don’t know whether or not I should be thanking the freak.” he grits his teeth, trying to intimidate me. “You and Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson… that’s not a good match. You should stay away from him.”

“Or… you should stay away from me.” I gave him a fake smile, trying to walk past him but he grabbed my wrist so tight it felt like it could bruise. I have never wanted to blow my cover and use my powers so badly.

“Stay away from him,” he demands lowly and I rip my wrist from his grasp. I briskly walked to my history class, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn’t even notice Eddie’s spot at his desk beside mine as I sat down. I could see movement to my left where he sat but all I could focus on was massaging my wrist. I snapped out of my daze when an orange flier was smacked on the table in front of me, making me jump.

“Wanna go?” Eddie asks with a smile, sucking his cheeks together to make a goofy face.

“To Tina’s party?” I asked him in disbelief, “Did you switch bodies with someone?” I chuckle.

“Maybe I did. Wanna check? I can start stripping.” he jokes, starting to unbutton his pants as I smack him with the paper.

“I’ll see. I might be on babysitting duty.” I complained.

“Fuck that! Ditch the rugrats and come party with me. It’ll be fun.” he droned on. 

“I said I’ll see.”

Eddie picked me up that night to take me to the party after a 10-minute shake-down from Hopper. Eddie just laughed it off after bantering with him a bit. I think Hopper secretly liked him.

I went as Tinker Bell and Eddie went as one of the members from Metallica. The place was packed, filled with drunk teenagers. Eddie took my hand and led me into the house. He got us both drinks as I spotted Steve Harrington across the room.

“There’s someone I wanna go say hi to,” I yell over the music and Eddie nods. I expected him to wait by the punch but he followed after me like a puppy. “Hey.” I greeted Steve and Nancy. 

“Y/n! How are you? I haven’t seen you since…” Nancy drawled out, Steve sending her a look. She was clearly wasted.

“Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler? That’s who you wanted to talk to?” Eddie mutters in my ear, leaning down so I can hear him.

I ignored him, “I’m good. I see you’re enjoying the punch.” I joke and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Maybe a little too much.” he sighs, taking the red cup out of her hand and she immediately starts to whine. Steve glanced behind me at Eddie who was lurking over my shoulder, “You’re here with Eddie?” Steve asked me in disbelief as if Eddie wasn’t there.

"Yeah, why?” I ask. Steve shrugged, making a face. “Anyway, I just wanted to say hi.” I spit out before practically running away from the awkward situation. Once again, Eddie followed me as I trailed across the house, “Oh I love this song!” I yelled out as a Madonna song started to play. For the majority of the song Eddie and I showed off our silly dance moves, enjoying the song. That was until the song came to an end and Eddie was shoved into me.

“What the fuck?” Eddie grunted out, wiping the punch he spilled on himself off his shirt.

“Oops? You get all dirty there Munson? You and my sloppy seconds?” Billy taunts from behind him. I glared at Billy, a face of stone. 

“Will you please just leave me the fuck alone?" I groan in distaste.

“What’d I tell you?!” he shouted at me, getting in my face. I looked at him with such hatred I was surprised his head didn’t combust right there. Eddie shoved Billy in the shoulder, getting some distance in between us.

“You heard her man, don’t ruin a perfectly good party.” Eddie tried to reason, motioning to the room around us.

“Aw look at that, Munsons defending his new toy. Hopefully, she’s more fun with you than she was with me. So fucking boring.” Billy retorts.

“Shut up man.” Eddie sighs in annoyance, shaking his head.

“Did she finally break that bullshit prude act and let you fuck her?” Billy asks, motioning between Eddie and I. My face was beat red with embarrassment as Eddie glanced over at me. “I bet she’d even let you cum in her, she’s dumb enough for it.” Billy laughs, a few of his henchmen laughing with him. Before I could even conjure a response Eddie punched Billy so hard it nearly knocked him to the ground. My mouth dropped open in response, eyebrows raising in surprise.

“I said shut the fuck up!” Eddie shouted, going in for another punch. It landed and Billy started to swing back. Everyone gathered around either cheering them on or telling them to stop. I watched anxiously, begging Eddie to stop. Do I stop them?

My internal conflict became crystal clear when Billy grabbed a beer bottle and smashed it on the counter, holding up the bottle menacingly. Before I could react he swung with the bottle in his hand and cut Eddie in the forearm. Before he could go a second time I focused on him with my mind and forced him to “slip” on the beer on the floor. Billy slammed on the ground, coughing out in pain.

I grabbed Eddie’s arm and pulled him away from the scene, “C’mon.” I ushered him out of the house and to the front yard. I sat down on the curb, pulling him to sit down with me. He winced as he clutched the heavy cut on his arm. “C’mere,” I said, ripping the green long-sleeved shirt I wore and putting it over the cut. “It’ll stop the bleeding.” I insist as I push down on the wound and he lets out a hiss, “God I could kill Billy right now.” I shake my head in disapproval.

“You and me both,” Eddie answered between gritted teeth.

“Thanks for sticking up for me.” I nearly whispered.

“It’s no problem.” he grits out, “Besides, Billy doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.” 

“No?” I ask, beginning to wrap his arm with the other sleeve of my shirt I ripped off.

“No. He’s an idiot for talking about you like that like he knows you. He’s full of shit. Just jealous a pretty girl isn’t getting on her knees for him.” Eddie pauses as I finish knotting the makeshift bandage. “He doesn’t deserve someone like you,” Eddie mutters and I finally look up at him. I smile softly. My heart beat rapidly in my chest as Eddie began to glance back and forth between my eyes and lips. I knew what was coming and I didn’t want him to chicken out so I did it for him. I closed the distance between us and kissed him softly. He nearly pulled back in surprise.

His whole body was as stiff as a board, hands hovering in the air in shock. When I rested my hand on his cheek and deepened the kiss, that’s when he let himself fall into step. His left hand tangled in my hair and his right hand sat on my leg. His lips fought for dominance, his right hand squeezing on my thigh. When I pulled back for breath he smiled like a little kid.

“About fucking time.” he chuckles before leaning in to kiss me again. I giggled slightly as he playfully pulled me onto his lap. Right when the kiss started to get heated drops of rain began to fall on us. We pulled away with crinkled brows, it wasn’t supposed to rain. I frowned, but Eddie smiled, “That’s fucking perfect.” he pointed at the sky with the most adorable smile.

“Can we go somewhere else? This party sucks.” I laugh.

“Sure. We could uh… go back to my place?” he offers and I raise my eyebrows, “Not like that. We could just listen to music or whatever. I have Motley Crue records.” he wiggled his eyebrows playfully and I laughed. He stood up and offered me his hand.

Okay.” I pause, taking his hand, “But no funny business.” I point at him, looking serious.

“Scouts honor.” he salutes me playfully. We jogged through the rain to his car, hand in hand.

if you have any requests including the people on my masterlist please comment them below any of my posts or in my submissions!! (check here: about my blog  to see what things i'm not comfortable with in regards to requests <3)

divider is by inkedreverie

[darthgloris]

Adorable

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x fem!Jedi!bi!reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N have had a special bond since she first found him unconscious on the Jundland wastes; however, their friendly thoughts about each other turn into deeper feelings soon enough, feelings that seem obvious to everyone but each other. Princess Leia has had enough of their obliviousness and, with the help of her counterpart Han Solo, decides to give them a little push in the right direction.

Warnings: set between A New Hope and Empire Strikes Back so SPOILERS, fluff, romantic tension, sexual tension, Luke being a shy and rambling mess, bi!reader

A/N: I'm writing this fic for @c4m3r4m4n, who fell in love with an idea drafted up by @dailydragon08 (to whom I give credit for the plot of the fic, thank you very much). I hope you like it :) also it's been a while since I've published, I feel like the ancient one has been awoken 💀💀

☆☆☆

"I won't go easy on you, Skywalker." Y/N taunted, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

"I'm not asking you to." Luke countered with a smile, followed by the hum of his igniting weapon.

She smirked at his response, hoping that the duel would take his focus off her burning cheeks. The two bowed to each other and she didn't hesitate to deliver the first blow, raising her brows in surprise at how readily he lifted the weapon in front of him to block her. Y/N smiled as her green lightsaber clashed against her sparring partner's blue one, watching him deflect every strike with a look of concentration etched onto his face.

She was proud of how far Luke had come since he first held his father's lightsaber in his hands, nearly losing a limb to inexperience. He had made staggering progress in the last few months of training: looking back at the farm boy who almost chopped his arm off on accident, she noticed how he was slowly starting to rely on the Force as well as on his abilities, how he was starting to get out of his head and stop overthinking every single movement, every action and reaction.

Her gaze moved from their lightsabers to his face, the face that she adored so much. She adored his eyes that reminded her of the midwinter sky, holding the innocence of a young boy and an ever-present mischievous twinkle; his sandy blonde hair that drooped over his eyes when he looked down in shyness, a small smile playing at his lips; and most importantly, his heart of gold, his kindness, gentleness, and selflessness-

"Maker, are you all right?!" Luke exclaimed, pulling her out of her thoughts. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Just then the pain in her hand registered in her brain, and she looked down to see a cut across her palm. It wasn't serious, just a small wound, but she found it cute that he worried so much.

"Luke, it's okay, it's just a cut," she said in an attempt to calm him. "I've hurt myself dozens of times before."

"But... but I'm the one who hurt you..." he mumbled, his sad puppy eyes looking up at her. "Come here, let me clean it."

"Really, Luke, it's fine-" she started.

"Please?" He pouted with genuine guilt in his eyes.

She couldn't say no to him. It just wasn't in her. "Okay."

He walked across the room while she sat down and he came back with a medikit. He knelt down in front of her, making her breath hitch in her throat. He started to tend to her wound carefully, holding her hand with a gentleness she had never been touched or treated with before. He dabbed a piece of cloth on her hand, looking at her in guilt whenever she flinched.

"Sorry about this," he mumbled, grabbing the disinfectant. "This is going to sting a bit."

She hissed as the chemicals dropped into her open skin while Luke mumbled apologies and soothing words.

"Oh, come on. It happens." She dismissed.

"Still, I feel bad. You know I'd never hurt you on purpose, right? Physically or otherwise." He stated.

She felt the butterflies fluttering in her stomach at the statement, the hope of her feelings towards him being reciprocated warming her heart. She mumbled an "I know" and looked at him, focused on the task at hand, his blonde locks flopping over his eyes. When he felt her gaze on him, he looked at her through his eyelashes, smiling softly at her to let her know he caught her staring. He shifted his gaze to her hand, hoping to hide the rosy blush creeping up on the apples of his cheeks, although he did so quick enough to miss her doing the same.

It was often that Luke got flustered when he was near her, and, even if he was very skilled at hiding it (at least from her), he never seemed to notice that she nearly always did the exact same thing. Every time he caught her staring, he felt his heart jump a little: it pleased him to know that she admired him, that she trusted him, that she cared for him. Whenever she would display any sort of affection towards him, he would feel a warm and tingly sensation spreading from his heart and tummy all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Luke was hopeful; most of the time he thought he was naive for believing a girl as wonderful and headstrong as Y/N could ever want a guy like him, so fragile and sensitive. He thought, no, he knew, that she was truly gorgeous, intelligent and strong-willed, and he also knew that she deserved much better than him, but he still wanted to make her happy and never once doubted his feelings for her.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, sensing his mind wandering.

"Not much. Just..." He hesitated to finish his sentence. "...thinking about Ben. I wish I could have done something about it."

"Believe me, I do, too," she said sadly, apparently not seeing through his lie. "I miss him a lot. I can't believe I was so stupid to lose him right after I had found him again."

"Yeah, I know. He was important to you, wasn't he?" He asked tentatively, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on the uninjured areas of her hand.

"He really was. When I was a child, I adored him. When I got in trouble, I always ran to hide behind his robes, and he smiled down at me a fondness that my parents had never looked at me with. I wanted nothing more than to be his Padawan," she sighed. "But I guess it just wasn't meant to be, was it?"

"I'm so sorry... I wish I had known," Luke said, smiling sympathetically. "But Obi-Wan or not, you turned out a better Jedi than I could ever be."

She smiled sincerely at him, appreciating the compliment that came from his heart, "You're really sweet, Luke. I bet you'll make a wonderful Jedi knight, too."

He giggled shyly, averting his gaze from her once again. He thanked her in a soft, shy voice that she found so adorable she could have melted into a puddle. "There, you're all set." He said as he bandaged her hand, tying up the loose end of the gauze on her palm.

"Thanks, Luke." She said, ruffling his hair.

"You're always welcome." He replied, hiding the blush rising to his face.

In a bout of courage, she threw her arms around his neck, pressing their cheeks together. He froze for a split second before wrapping his own around her waist, pulling her closer to him and inhaling her signature coconut scent. He could get drunk on her sweet smell that made him feel at peace. As she felt him get more comfortable, a mischievous thought entered her mind. She began to tickle his open armpits, making him yelp and squirm beneath her.

"Y/N, stop!" He laughed as she straddled him, pinning his wrists to the floor with one hand and using the other to tickle his stomach. He squealed and giggled, trying to get out of her grip, and as soon as she loosened her hold on his wrists, he flipped them on the sparring mat, landing her with a soft 'thump'. He threw one leg over the other side of her waist and pinned her wrists over her head in the same fashion as her. He aimed for her sides and she squealed, turning into a giggling, squirmy mess.

"Luke! You copycat!" She shrieked through her laughter.

He laughed, too, drinking in the pure joy of the moment, and noticed her face was red from happiness and laughter, as well as his, he assumed.

"Luke, Y/N, I need you to- oh..." Leia stumbled in, cutting herself off as she saw her two friends sharing an intimate moment. "Am I interrupting something?" She smirked.

Suddenly, they were both very aware of their position. Luke's eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat, messily getting up and fixing his hair. He helped Y/N off the ground and she dusted herself off, looking to Leia, who still had that knowing smile plastered on her face. "No! No, you're not."

"Yeah... anyway," she dragged the first word out in suspicion. "We have an impromptu meeting to be at in fifteen minutes, just enough time for you to get changed."

"All right, we'll see you there." Luke said, smiling politely at his friend and leaving the room. Y/N soon followed suit, as their rooms were fairly close, in fact opposite each other.

Leia rolled her eyes, sighing in exasperation. It was clear as day that the two of them were enamoured with one another, everyone could see it except them. She could see it in their eyes when they looked at each other, in how gentle they were with each other. They'd share so many little moments like this, yet they'd never make a move. It was infuriating, to say the least.

Leia walked out of the room and through the halls of the rebel base. She bumped into someone on her way.

"Woah, Your Highness, what's got you so upset?" Han asked, nearly sarcastically, but she chose to answer honestly.

"I just walked in on Luke and Y/N having a tickle fight," she said. "It annoys the life out of me when they act like a couple but they don't even see that they actually like each other."

"Ugh, I know. It's painfully obvious to everyone but them." He agreed.

"Hang on. Are you agreeing with me, Han Solo?" She said, not waiting for his response. "Since this is the first thing we actually agree about, care to do something about it?"

He raised his eyebrows, interested. "What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, nothing too serious, just a bit of messing with them. Maybe they'll stop being so dense." She said.

"Good idea," he nodded, giving her credit. "We start after the meeting."

"Deal."

...

Y/N smiled softly at Luke and closed the door behind her, exhausted from the meeting. She huffed a breath and looked for a shirt and pants in her wardrobe, but couldn't find a sweater for the life of her. She looked through all of her room for her favorite green sweater, under the bed, behind the door, even beneath her covers, but there was no trace of it.

She hated that it disappeared, but she decided she was going to look for it after she's had a proper rest after a two-hour-long meeting. She knocked on Luke's door, who opened it and smiled softly at her. "Hi."

"Hi. I can't find my green sweater, do you have one I could borrow?" She dared to ask. It was an intimate gesture, surely, but she wanted that nap, and the only thing that was more comfy to sleep in than her favorite sweater was a warm sweater with Luke's soothing smell all over it. "Assuming you don't need it, of course."

"Um, sure," he said, rummaging through his clothes. "Here."

He handed her a white hoodie with no zipper. It was so soft and warm, it made her cheeks flush in anticipation. She pulled it over her head and sighed at the feeling. The sleeves were a bit bigger on her, and she loved it. It felt like a warm and loving embrace. It felt like his embrace.

"Thank you, Luke, you're a sweetheart," she said and he blushed furiously, but she didn't have the energy to notice. "I'll be taking a nap now, but if you need a favor, ask me, okay?"

"Okay," his voice cracked. "Have a good nap."

She left his room with a thankful smile.

She snuggled up in her bed, wrapping her arms around herself, as if it was Luke hugging her. She breathed in his smell, making her sigh in content. The warm feeling and the soothing scent lulled her to sleep quickly enough, with the image of Luke holding her and warming her up with his body heat.

...

After letting her borrow his hoodie, Luke felt much closer to her. He fell harder for her, if that was even possible. And when he saw her snuggled up in his clothes, his brain went blank and he forgot his own name for a moment. He wanted to hug her, to warm her up and fall asleep beside her, then to wake up next to her and wake her with a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her lips.

He pushed the thought to the back of his head as he saw her heading for the same closet he was. "Hi."

"Hi. How was your nap?"

"Best nap I've ever had. Your hoodie is the most comfortable thing I've ever worn. I'll give it back right after I grab some stuff here."

"No, no, you keep it."

She felt her heart warm at his offer. "Luke, you love this hoodie..."

But I love you more. "But you're happy. And that makes me happy."

She smiled lovingly at him, "Thank you so much. Really."

"You're always welcome..." He said, hesitant to finish his sentence. "...starflower."

She turned to him and her smile widened at the nickname, a blush rising to her cheeks. She got on her tip-toes to try to reach an old book on the highest shelf, straining to try to grab it. Luke noticed her struggle and moved up to her, and with a little jump, he caught the book and handed it to her. She smiled thankfully at him and kissed his cheek softly, making him blush.

Their sweet moment was interrupted by the lock clicking. "Oh, damn it!"

Luke tried to force the door open but failed, and when he turned around to face her, he noticed how incredibly close they were. His chest nearly touched hers, and he could feel her breathing pattern as whenever her chest expanded, he could feel it brush his own.

"This is... convenient." She said, making him chuckle.

"Yeah... sorry I didn't pay more attention."

"It's not your fault."

A comfortable silence fell over them, and Y/N shifted into a more comfortable position, accidentally brushing over Luke's hips. He blushed and bit his lip at the contact. "Sorry!"

"It's- it's fine..." His voice cracked. He felt his pants tighten and he blushed a dark red, sweating a copious amount. He was already super embarrassed and ashamed about accidentally getting a hard-on, and he was fairly sure he'd die if she saw.

He shifted away to try to put some distance between them, but accidentally stepped on her foot. She flinched backwards and fell over. Luke swiftly caught her, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. He pulled her up gently and his forehead was nearly touching hers. He closed his eyes, savoring the closeness between them. He wanted to brush the hair away from her face and kiss her until she was breathless, but he just didn't have the courage.

How ironic: Luke Skywalker, the man who destroyed the Death Star, couldn't strap on a pair and make a move on a girl. It was laughable, really.

He decided to test the waters by sliding his hands down to her hips in a featherlight touch. She felt something brushing her thigh and her eyes widened as she realized Luke was turned on by the situation, and decided to tease him a bit.

"Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this your lightsaber or are you just really happy to see me?" She asked, a teasing edge to her voice as he tried to stutter out a response.

"I- I- I... uh, um... I..." He stammered, trying to think of a way to explain himself without sounding like a pervert. "I'm so, so, so sorry, I really didn't mean to, it was an accident... I really hope you could forgive me but if you don't want to talk to me ever again, I understand, I..."

He looked so cute, flustered about something that simple. She couldn't really see him all that well, but she was sure he was blushing the darkest red possible.

"Relax, Luke, I'm just teasing you," she giggled. "It's normal. It could have happened to any guy."

"Wha..? Really?"

"Of course. Honestly, I'm a little flattered." She smiled slyly, making him whimper in embarrassment.

"Could you do me a favor?" He asked. "Could you maybe... not tell anyone about this?"

"I'd never, Luke," she cupped his cheek and gently moved his face to make him meet her eyes. "It's going to be our secret."

He smiled softly at her. "Thanks for being so understanding."

Bravely, she leaned up and kissed his nose. "No problem."

Just as Luke started to gather enough courage to lean down to kiss her, the lock started rattling. The two snapped their heads in the direction of the door as it opened to reveal Han and Chewbacca on the other side.

"What in the Maker's name are you two doing in here?"

Chewie growled suggestively.

"Shush, Fuzzball, someone locked us in here." Luke dismissed.

He growled again in an attempt to sass Luke.

...

Y/N thought back to her moment with Luke as she sat with her friends on the Falcon. The hopes of him feeling the same way about her rekindled when he got aroused, but she was almost sure that any guy would have been turned on by the closeness in that sort of situation.

Luke surprised himself at how comfortable he was with her after that awkward situation. Maybe if he was braver and not that hopeless, his arousal could have taken the status quo to the next level. After all, if there was anyone he wanted to be touched by, kissed by and held by, it was her. Everything from her soulful eyes to her intelligence, and even her plush lips made him melt-

"Kid, snap out of it!" Han called, making Luke do a double-take on the controls of the Falcon.

"Huh- what?" He blubbered, blushing.

"Could you scooch, please?" Leia asked and Luke complied, sliding onto the chair next to Y/N. He gave her a shining smile and looked at the controls. "Thanks."

Y/N reciprocated his grin, thinking back on the cuddly feeling of his hoodie cocooning her and lulling her to sleep.

"Excuse me..." Leia said and leaned over to Y/N's area to pull a lever. Luke leaned to the side and felt the back of his head rest against a soft cushioning.

"Um, Luke..." Y/N said hesitantly and Luke's eyes widened when he realized he had leaned his head on her breasts.

"Oh, stars-" he said and swiftly got up from his seat, red as a tomato and paced back and forth. "I'm sorry, Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose! I would never do anything like this to you on purpose! Not that I don't find you attractive enough to- I need to lie down..."

"Kid, for fuck's sake, stop talking." Han said and Y/N chuckled at Luke's antics, shaking her head fondly. She was certainly flustered to have his head on her chest, but him trying to explain himself was too funny not to laugh at.

Meanwhile, Leia watched the scene unfold, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. She gave Han a side eye, to which he shook his head in exasperation. They had set him up so perfectly and he still managed to screw it up. "All right, I'm going to go lie down. And make sure Luke didn't die of self-loathing." She waved goodbye to her friends and walked away. As soon as she was out of earshot, Leia looked at Han, clenching her jaw.

"This isn't working. Why isn't this working?" She asked.

"I have no idea. They can't even seem to acknowledge that they both enjoyed the closest thing they ever had to sexual contact." He rolled his eyes.

"I think it's time to pull out the big guns." Leia said and Han tilted his head in curiosity.

"What do you suggest?"

"You have to come on to Y/N. And don't you stop until Luke is red with anger and wants to hit you."

"All right." He patronized, laughing at the thought of Luke trying to punch him.

...

Luke always got along with Han, but right now every word that came out of his mouth made him clench his fists, knuckles turning white.

He couldn't believe he was actually flirting with Y/N.

After encouraging him to make a move all this time, he felt betrayed and fairly angry that he was going after the love of his life even if he clearly had a thing for Leia. He didn't care if he was doing it to prove a point or he was sincerely into her, but he hated it nonetheless.

It started out small, with innocent touches paired with "trouble never looked so goddamn fine", or "I'd do anything for a woman with a knife", all of which made Luke more confused than jealous. But as it escalated into more blunt compliments and pick-up lines, he could barely holding together. At first maybe he chewed on his cheek and pretended not to listen, then he started avoiding eye contact with either of them, and he currently grumbled or growled lowly at everything he said. He was a little relieved to see her sass him in response to his comments, though, his grip on the arm of the chair faltering slightly whenever she responded in a sarcastic way.

Until he had had enough.

"Smile is the second best thing you can do with your lips."

Luke clenched his jaw so hard it could have snapped clean. He struggled to control his angry, shaky breathing as he got up and grabbed Han's arm to pull him to another room.

"Okay, what the fuck, Han!?"

"What?" He said, trying his best to hide the smirk of satisfaction that threatened to creep up on his lips.

"Cut it out. You know I like her, why are you doing this?!" He snapped.

"Maybe I recently saw the light," he shrugged. "Look, you're clearly nowhere close to making a move, so why shouldn't others take a shot?"

Luke opened his mouth to retort, and then closed it. He had a point. If he didn't do something about it, he was going to lose her. And he couldn't afford to lose her to Han. If she was going to end up with someone other than him, he'd prefer that she end up with Leia.

"Fine." He spat, storming out of the room.

He rushed to open a cupboard and grabbed a bottle of alcohol, chugging a questionable amount of it. "What are you doing?"

"I'm clearly not drunk enough to do this," he said, pulling away from the bottle. "Yum, mouthwash that burns."

Han bit back a laugh as Luke clumsily walked to Y/N and pulled her away to speak in private.

"Luke? What's going on?" She asked, not even pointing out his apparent intoxication.

"I can't- I can't do this anymore, Y/N!" He said and her brows furrowed with confusion. "I can't stand to see Han treat you like this so forgive me for going to such drastic measures to prove a point!"

"What are you-" she was cut off by Luke storming over and crashing his lips on hers with such force that she stumbled back. As his action registered in her brain, she melted into the heavenly sensation. She ran a hand through his blonde locks, earning a small gasp from him into the kiss.

As she pulled away, he chased her lips for a split second before slowly opening his eyes, half-lidded gaze shifting to the string of saliva still connecting them. "I'm sorry, I- it was a momentary lapse. But I like you. I like you a lot. And I can't stand the thought of you being with Han. And I just wanted to tell you before you make a choice."

"Oh, Luke..." she said, smiling brightly as she caressed his cheek lovingly. "I don't like Han. He's a great friend but all those pickup lines were scaring the living Force out of me."

He giggled softly, though his face dropped at her lack of response. "I... I get it." He said quietly, trying to avoid her gaze. "I'll leave you alone."

He turned around and walked to the door, shoulders slouched in defeat and she shook her head in fondness, grabbing his wrist to stop him. "Luke, you adorable, oblivious idiot."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled their noses together before giving him a softer, sweeter kiss. This time there was no desperation, no urge, no rush. Just the need to make him feel loved and make him see that she doesn't want anyone else but him.

"I, um-" he cleared his throat. "I liked that very much."

"I like you very much." She said, pecking his cheek repeatedly. He giggled like a little boy, blushing. "You seriously thought I'd pick anyone over you? And that the first person would be Han?"

"No, I thought the first person would be Leia," he said and Y/N laughed loudly. "But, yeah, pretty much."

"Normally I'd say that's not true but Leia is gorgeous," she joked and Luke laughed softly, proud to have made her laugh. "And by the way, the list goes you, Leia, literally anyone in the world, and then Han."

He smiled at her, moved by the comment and amused by the joke, and brought her closer to him.

"Why am I after Leia?"

"Because she's so much hotter than you!" She defended.

"Thanks, Y/N!" The princess called, making Luke laugh and Y/N join in.

"You wound me, Y/N." Han said in mock offense.

"Are you guys together yet?" Leia asked, walking in. Luke wrapped an arm around Y/N's waist, smiling proudly as he pulled her closer. She smiled too, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You are?!"

They both nodded, happiness flooding every single inch of them.

"That's amazing! I'm so happy for you!" She said, hugging Y/N and pecking her cheek. "Took you long enough. The way you looked at her without doing anything was becoming very frustrating." She hugged Luke and ruffled his hair.

He rolled his eyes and turned to his new girlfriend, pressing their foreheads together.

"I'm glad I did."

[ladyhoneydarlinglove]

mom said it’s my turn to do a deep dive zoro meta and since i was going through the dressrosa arc recently, i want to talk about one of my favorite zoro moments in the whole series and why it bugs me so much when i see people characterize zoro as just a ‘no thoughts (or maybe sword thoughts) head empty’ himbo because like. he’s not. he’s just fully not. and i think this particular moment in dressrosa when he’s fighting pica is the best example of WHY he’s not.

one of the most common threads i see in himbo!zoro characterizations is the idea that the only real plan zoro has in a fight is to cut shit, and that it works largely because of his sheer tenacity and determination to make it work. and while it’s not untrue that zoro most often does default to the plan of ‘cut shit’, i don’t think it’s fair to say that he isn’t capable of plotting out other strategies. case in point, the panels below (read right to left):

zoro runs through four options for fighting pica very quickly, and while plan 1 is a version of his default ‘cut shit’ option, he abandons it as soon as he realizes it won’t be effective due to distance. plan 2 arguably would still involve fighting/slashing because he’d be jumping onto pica’s back, but zoro also abandons that idea when he realizes he wouldn’t be able to make the jump. and then plans 3 and 4 don’t involve any fighting at all; they’re both options to warn others of the danger, because that’s actually a big part of what the zoro vs pica fight is all about. pica is deliberately going after innocent or weakened opponents, and zoro trying to stop him before anybody else gets hurt.

so it’s only after he’s exhausted four other options that zoro finally gets to plan 5, which is this:

and like. yeah okay that is going right back to the ‘cut shit’ plan and i'll grant that it's definitely presented as a moment of 'swordsman chooses to cut things surprise surprise'; but even so, there are two other parts to fighting pica that zoro has to take into account. the first is how to actually isolate his real body when he can effectively move anywhere that there's stone, something that up until this point has been giving zoro a lot of trouble because he can't actually hit pica. and this is where 'fly through the air and cut him down' actually becomes an incredibly effective strategy, because it results in this:

by slicing through that massive body and forcing pica into the upper half, zoro essentially traps him, because pica's movement is now confined to the piece of stone that's in the air. and thus it becomes far easier for zoro to continue slicing, further isolate pica and finally allowing zoro to attack his real body.

the second part he has to figure out—the debris that will result from the attack raining down on the plateau—doesn’t even become apparent to everyone else until zoro’s already cut pica down. but, very crucial, it was apparent to zoro, because he already had a plan in place for dealing with that too. and that part doesn’t even involve him, much less his swordsmanship. he directs king elizabello to wait two minutes before he aims his king punch at the plateau, the force of which knocks the debris away and prevents it from falling on the people up there.

like. that is not just slice-and-dice himbo behavior. it clearly shows that zoro was thinking and planning beyond his immediate fight, and that he had enough foresight to realize what could happen to the debris from pica's body and acted to mitigate the collateral damage. it's a really simple moment that i feel like kind of gets lost amongst everything else happening in the dressrosa arc, but it's one of my favorites because not only does it show that zoro is perfectly capable of strategizing, it also underscores that as much as he enjoys a good fight, at the end of the day zoro's always still thinking about doing what he does best: protecting people.

this isn't to say that i think zoro never does anything stupid; evidence is solid that the man is a certified idiot, through and through. but like. he's not dumb. and i think people that characterize him as such really don’t know what they’re talking about.

[twistedbloodstain]

marquis de gramont x assistant!reader: i breathe flames each time i talk | love’s not supposed to be easy.

plot: the one where he has you but at what cost?

warnings: kidnapping, coercion, dubious consent, guys this has went for a dark turn :(, none of them gets any peace

masterlist

shards of glass fly through the wall behind him, vincent bites his tongue from cursing, a slightly frustrated frown slowly making its way to his face. he stops himself from visibly sighing or showing any sign of his genuine worry over another expensive irreplaceable vase broken on the floor.

instead, he worries about the best possible way to diffuse the situation in front of him.

which is you.

you, who he is irrevocably in love with. the person he wants most more than anything in this world, you’re the sweet heaven placed on this earth that was meant to be cherished by him, you who gave him the captivating feeling of affection.

you taught him to know what it was like to find a piece of himself he’s yearned for in years, a part that he denied to have existed in fear of being weak and vulnerable oh but no, you make him feel the other way around. when he feels your presence and grace, he feels like salvation and strength has entered the room itself.

you make him feel safe, in a way. he feels at peace when he’s with you. all his heedless ambition stood no chance against having you in his life the moment you almost died for him in that fateful night. he felt the need to immediately shelter you from the cruel world, he wouldn’t offer the universe a chance to take you away from him ever again. vincent swore he would cherish you, make every second of your life a sweet memory for the rest of your lives together. he took you to keep you safe and happy, he swears even if you don’t realize that you need it.

which is why what faces him, hurts him as much as it hurts you.

you’re standing at least a few meters away from him next to the table filled with saccharine fruits and decorated cakes, your form shaking from fear. earlier you had just grabbed the nearest vase and threw it at him the second he stepped into the room to join you for a quick snack. tears were already slipping down your cheeks as small sobs escaped your lips, the soft satin gray dress wrapped around your body made you look like a goddess on earth. it was the first thing that entered his mind before he noticed the projectile being flung to his face, thankfully he managed to dodge it in time and the vase smashed into the wall behind him.

 he doesn’t know why this is happening.

or maybe he does. vincent is not a blind man to the truth, he does not relish in the bliss ignorance offers. he thinks anyone who enjoys that form of bliss is a coward who refuses to deal with reality. after all, if you’re dealing with a rather difficult predicament you wish to resolve, you need to face the hard truths and all plausible cards at hand. ignorance cannot play a part into it.

but when he looks at you, he realizes why people place themselves into that situation. he asks the same questions and pretends he doesn't know why you’ve thrown vases at him, why your tears only seem to drip when he’s in the room for the past two weeks. all truths he spurns to know.

“my love? what’s wrong?” he begins, vincent takes a step forward and reaches his hand out to you, a shard cracks as it was crushed under the weight of his foot, you eye him warily and instantly flinch to step back.

“no. stay away from me.” you scream. “don’t come any closer.”

“you know i can’t even if i wanted to.” he whispers looking into your eyes, he doesn’t listen to your words and takes a step closer. it makes things worse as another sob leaves your body.

“don’t bullshit me! in all my years i’ve worked with you, i know if you wanted to, you would.” you reply, “you just won’t try hard enough!”

“why do you find it so hard to accept?” he questions, frustration getting the better of him. he walks straight to you, startled by his sudden movements, you stammer on your feet but he gets to you quick, he grips your arms and holds you close.

 “mon amour, every man on this earth could attempt to pry you away from me but i would burn this world to the ground if it meant i could return to you. i want you, i love you.” he confesses.

probably for the 20th time of the week.

“stop. stop it.” you struggle in his grip as more tears collect on your face.

“why? you have no reason to refuse me-“

“you kidnapped me! you took me from my home and locked me into your estate, i can’t even move a single finger without the guards or the maids reporting everything i do!” you struggled.

“all to keep you safe, there are people out there who want you dead. i am protecting you, mon amour.” he reasons.

“i don’t want it, i want to go home.” you beg. this is what the both of you go through everyday, sometimes it occurs during meal times like right now, but more often than not it happens the moment he comes forward to greet you a “good morning” in bed or before the both of you get ready to sleep at night.

he prefers to deal with you like this when you’re both in the confinements of his bedroom, it’s much easier to lull you with his sweet words and hold you because for a minute or two you don’t twist against and grip but rather lean into it. you don’t spit out those incomprehensible thoughts of leaving him or begging for him to let you go.

he would rather die than lose you.

“please…vincent just let me go. i want to go home, you have to let me go.” you plead, you’re now holding his wrists close up to your body. in a different scenario, he would’ve been fucking delighted to have this, to have you touch him with such softness but your words do the opposite effect as the idea of being without you sink into his sick head.

vincent takes control of his hands and brings your palms up to his lips, placing a soft kiss. he watches your reaction slowly, tears weren’t as present as it was before on your face, he likes it when you look calm it reminds him of the days the both of you spent together as boss and employee. serenity was always a good look on you.

“you are home, you’re right where you need to be…with me.” he states, “what i have to give you, my love…it shouldn’t trap you. it’s meant to make you feel the same way you make me feel but i can’t love you if you won’t help yourself.”

“if you would just let me love you, you’ll see.” 

your face contorts back to your former anguish. teardrops begin falling down again but you don’t fight to get away from him, his arms snake behind your waist as he guides you into an embrace with him. 

no matter how big of a fit you throw or how expensive of a vase you fling at him, this is how it always ends. for the two weeks you’ve spent here, hopefully you’ve realized that there is no force in this world strong enough to separate you from him. not even your tears and not even you.

you fold the velvety blanket in a slow but precise movement, your gaze locked on the person asleep on the other side of the room, suddenly hearing a loud roar of thunder crack outside your vision redirects to the large window. you hold your breath in fear of the storm abruptly waking him, thankfully it doesn’t happen and you stop mid-chore to trudge your way to the window so you could shut the curtains.

“everything is okay.” you shakily whisper to yourself.

your voice betrays you with that statement, you keep telling yourself that everything is alright, that you should be grateful that he isn’t cruel to you, that even in your rebellious and distasteful behavior for the past year he still showers you in finery and love.

it’s been awhile since you’ve thrown a fit at him. 

you took some of his words into your behavior ever since your last squabble, you tell yourself that what he has to offer is good. that maybe you’re in the wrong in this one, so for the past months no matter how much you want to resist, you don’t swat his hand away when he touches you, you don’t shove him away when he holds you and you keep your head in place when he kisses you to please him.

and god it certainly did. he already seemed to glimmer brighter when he took you back to his estate but when you stopped shoving him away, his presence was impalpable, he looked like was a king that finally had his queen.

but you? oh dear. 

all your reevaluation for your mindset did seem to work, there were moments when you enjoyed being with him. the late night dinners and touches that sometimes make your heartbeat a little too fast for your liking, his sweet words that move you which makes you think that it was too good to be true sometimes it makes you forget that he’s keeping you here against your own will.

oh.

it’s moments like these that make you stay still and cling to your fucking sanity, you want to get out of here. you do, but how? you are isolated in his home, no one in the staff treats you the same anymore they don’t listen to you unless you have a simple request. you have no one but the marquis, who is the last person that probably wants to hear about your desire to get out of here. your days are filled with him and only him, from the moment you wake up in bed he’s beside you, either in slumber or kissing you for the morning. you see him for meals three times a day until the sun sinks into the horizon where he makes love to you in the shadow of moonlight. not to mention the gallery viewing, watching operas and other superficial shit he likes.

you have no ally in here.

your form shakes and you cling to the table beside you, you want to leave so bad but every time you come up with an idea to leave it seems impossible. your former escape route has been rendered useless, you tried that the moment the marquis left you alone for the first time and it was barred shut with a guard stationed nearby. soon the marquis found out, he was livid and kept you locked in your room for a few days.

any chance of escape is hopeless even if you have no reason to want to stay here.

the storm brewing outside roars another loud burst of thunder, much louder than the previous one, the rain outside begins to shower even stronger. a cry erupts from the other side of the room and you sigh. you stare at the crib at the corner, a lamplight illuminating the dim room, you take a deep breath to compose yourself and make your way towards him.

your son.

with him.

it still makes you sick thinking about it.

you lift him into your arms and he immediately snuggles into your neck, his chubby arms slightly flailing around to feel your warmth. you shush him to sleep, whispering sweet nothings to soothe him. thankfully, his cries instantly die down and mumbles gibberish, slowly falling back to slumber. you found out you were pregnant around the time, you threw the vase at him. you felt frustrated and trapped, because how could this happen to you? 

you hold him tight, and softly swaddle him around to calm him even more. you know the saying “if there’s a will, there’s a way.”, well you had so much of that if it weren’t for the child you brought out into this world you would’ve been insistent on getting out of here. you love your son, you do. but you find it so hard to go on when the weight of a child is pulling you down from what you want.

this is the only reason why you were willing to try being with him. as if things weren’t hopeless enough for you, maybe things shouldn’t be so bad for your child. after all, vincent was quite cheerful when he found out.

you press a soft kiss to his head, whispering a gentle affirmation before tucking him back into his crib.

pushing the door to enter the inside, you reluctantly walk in. you’ve done this several times before, yet when you do it, it still doesn’t feel natural. the room was dim, little illuminessence was present and the light from your bed lamp was the only thing keep things seen. 

you walk towards the bedpost and something inside you makes you stop, a figure moves beneath the satin sheets and you hold your breath. he opens his eyes and sees you, confusion staining his expression. he immediately sits up and urges you forward.

“cherie? is something wrong?” vincent murmurs, his voice still hoarse from sleep. you don’t say anything but instead you abandon the bedpost and sit on the foot of the bed. you give him an empty stare and he stays quiet awaiting your reply.

“the storm woke him up.” you reply.

“oh? i’ll call for the nanny.” 

“don’t. i already put him back to sleep.” you mutter.

“then what seems to be the problem?” he raises his eyebrows.

you eye him like he grew a second head, matter of fact he might as well have with what he did to you.

“how-“ you start but a cry leaves your throat. tears begin to gather on your eyes, vincent alarmed with your state leans forward, “how could you do this to me?”

“what do you mean, my love?” he asks puzzled.

“what do i mean? i meant how could you do this to me!” your voice gets louder but not loud enough to be yelling, the rain outside pours even harder. 

“a year ago, i was just your assistant dealing with your meetings and setting your finery. you wouldn’t have even spared me a single glance unless you wanted a chef from monaco to cook you dinner considering i wasn’t significant enough to be known by you. i have to admit working for you was frightening but it was okay. i was alright with that.” you sob.

“this again.” he sighs.

“now, you locked me up here. a few months ago i was pregnant with your kid. mind you, even if you won’t say it i know you never wanted children. do you know how stupid this looks? how irrational and insensible this all seems? i’ve always known you to be cruel but this…this is torture. you’re playing house with my life like it’s some sick game” you reason not giving him a chance to speak.

“going through all these lengths because something in your sick head is telling you that you’re in love with me, acting like you wouldn’t discard me the moment you find me unworthy of your attention. ” you finish. he stays quiet from your little rant, dare you say a bit shocked. truth be told, it had been a while since you did this.

“what do you want me to do? tell me what to do, so i can make it better.” he demands, “i want you to be happy. i dislike seeing you miserable like this when you should be having the happiest time of your life. recently, we just had a child-“

“then let me go.” you cut him off, scooting closer to his side of the bed. you reach for his hands and he lets you, even when the expression on his face seems bitter.

“let me go home. i don’t want to be here, i feel trapped. at some point, you know that i don’t want you the same way you claim to want me. i don’t love you, i don’t think i can even if i tried my best. you need to let me leave, vincent.” you beg with all your heart.

vincent stays silent and wipes the tears on your face. he leans forward in resignation and delicately grazes his hand on your jaw making you look into him.

“my love. i don’t care how long it takes to make you realize that my feelings are genuine, that my acts aren’t based on flights of fancy, i’d spend the rest of my life proving it to you with a few more children around. you need to understand that i’m never letting you go, because i would simply die.” he whispers.

“you are mine. i am yours. not even you can deny that,  you belong to me and i, you. you are my love, i am too far gone to lose you. how many people are lucky enough to say that?”

he kisses you after that, his lips softly envelop yours and it shocks you but the feeling and taste are so familiar to you know. you don’t get the chance to say anything in return as you feel his hand dancing around your nightgown, you could feel it slowly slipping down. vincent’s hand dances around your skin, going through your curves that he’s felt before.

“and this is alright with you?” you mumble as he guides you to your back, pressing kisses on your neck.

“what is?” he pauses slightly looking up at you before continuing to leave a mark on your neck.

“that i’ll never want you…ever.” you trace your palm up to his jaw, caressing it while giving the poisonous blow.

this makes him halt all his movements and looks into you as if you’re serious. you might be.

“then i’ll have to simply have to live with it. love is never supposed to be easy.” he chuckles before kissing you again.

author’s note: this was short but enjoyed it lots bc there’s drama hehe. assistant!reader getting her licks before he goes down on her was a last minute thing…anyways if you were expecting peace and hugs from this fic hell to the nah i want angst. marquis is relentless afff. thanks for reading and pls like and reblog :)) also send some of ur requests!!

[televised-goose]

Drabbles from a valgrace fic that will hopefully be done before the heat death of the universe.

This fic is in development, so constructive criticism is totally accepted.

Prompt by the great @demigod-shenanigans

○●○●○●○●○

Jason thinks he liked to draw as a kid. He has vague memories of a secret sketch book and drawing random pieces of architecture, but just like everything else, it's blurry. He does like it, though. It's like writing, but it doesn't have to make sense. All of his emotions can leave him and be transferred into the paper. Its his own fucked up therapy. No humans needed.

He only started again when he saw Leo draw. He seemed so focused and enthused when making his schematics. It was like he fused with the paper. So he watched Leo draw a lot. Because it was nice to see him calm and the drawings were amazing. That's it. 

He ended up trying it out, and his brain seemed to remember his style even without that memory of the practice. It was like his hands were moving without him thinking of what each movement really meant. His first drawing was Leo, of course. It was only because he was right there and his best friend. 

After figuring out he could apparently draw pretty well he tried everything under the sun, even stealing one of Annabeth’s sketch books and hiding it under his bunk just like he thinks he did as a kid. The book was filled with whatever he could think of, the bow of the ship, his crewmates, fantastical landscapes and architecture, monsters, his nightmares, and even just skribbles making up how he felt. 

But most of the book was filled with Leo. He was so interesting to look at. His rugged charm and his messy appearance made him so unique to draw. He had such intense emotions, making him the caricature of every single one. Some people might think that means he has a crush, but he doesn't. His friend is simply something he enjoys looking at that's not that weird. It's not like he remembers everything he does.

(He hasn't memorized Leo's determined quirk of his brow as he sketches a curve like a compass, not the little sigh he would release when a blueprint was done, not the cross-hatching perfectly aligned and segmented showing his prowess, not his smirk whe-)

He thinks before he focused more on things instead of people, but everything about Leo needs to be documented to him. It's all so perfect that he can't forget it. 

He doesn't draw in front of anyone because it feels too personal to share. These are his true raw emotions and those stay right next to him and his heart. If people saw him draw they might see him weak and he needs to be a leader for them. This is an escape from the pressure and the pain and the fear. He knows it's dumb, and he knows no one will make fun of him, but it still scares him.

○●○●○●○●○

Was it shit? Tell me! I'm still thinking about plot, I'm think it could be a 5+1 of Jace opening up to people and finding out that drawing isn't that fucking stupid. It's really cool, I may be biased to be fair.

[pinkkop]

Day 60 - 15 Days BL Challenge (part 4)

This is it! Day 60! And the final day of my fourth part of the 15 Days BL Challenge. I've had a blast and I'll definitely keep interacting with the tag even if I finished doing the prompts.

Day 60 - Favourite lesser known BL

Number in the parentheses is the number of times I've mentioned each show in a prompt of the 15 Days BL Challenge which doesn't tell you much but it does show you have much space some of these shows take up in my brain.

180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us (0)

This is where my love and respect for Pond started. This show is an odd one because it's much more about interpersonal relationships and as such is like the opposite of an action series with little movement and only a few locations.

It works, however, really well for the show and the production quality and acting is great. It's an interesting character study and a must watch if you ask me.

Tokyo in April is... (2)

This show has my favourite type of pairing of hurt character with walls sky high gets loved with a side of childhood best friends and mutual pining.

I just love watching them piece together what actually happened in their shared past and heal while doing so.

It's one of my favourite Japanese BLs and more people should get to witness its beuaty.

Love Class 2 (1)

I love this BL so much that I even made a post about why more people should watch this!

It's a Korean BL with a good mixed bag of pairings and plot lines which makes for a good well rounded show with bucked loads of chemistry and pining.

And you can just skip the first season and go directly to season 2!

History3: Make Our Days Count (8)

Don't know if this could be called a lesser known because I think a lot of people know this exists but so many people seem afraid of actually watching it because of the ending which is a pity because it is such a good show! I promise one day I'll get around to writing a post about why it's so good.

This show is by far my most returned to show of all the BLs I've watched and I think the fact that I've mentioned it in 8 different prompts for this challenge says a lot about how much I love it!

It's sweet and spicy and wholesome and heartwarming and funny and healing. It both has moments of being silly and moments of seriousness in a good balance. It has some of my favourite characters and relationships and it just fills me with happiness.

Don't Say No (4)

This is another show I've returned to a lot and I think I've figured out why. Even if most of the plot points during this show are wild, I really like the basis for this show: childhood best friends who get together after a long struggle, but then they have to figure out how to be boyfriends with all their baggage and assumptions, both of their own but also of the people around them.

It's a battle between what they want, what they think the other person wants and what they think they should want. It's just so good!

Also I absolutely love a Uke that's more sexually experienced than the Seme. No Blushing Maiden Ukes in this show!!

Honorable mention to She Makes My Heart Flutter (1) as a lesser known GL. It's only 66 min. long and the movie version is free on youtube here.

The original challenge is here, part two here, part three here, and four here.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - The Sign is Slaying

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top. Happy new year, BLabies!

Jan 2024 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 8 of 12 - Tharn in Phaya’s too big clothing is the cutest thing in the world.

I gotta to say something about Babe's acting really quickly. I love the way he’s inhabiting the personality of his naga character with reptilian eye and body movements and (I don’t know how to put this) a certain reserved, elegant, slithering- ness. He's very good this new boy of ours. (He come from something physical like dance?)

I adored them doing the walk of shame and being teased.

ALSO I enjoyed the way they handled Tharn’s gender in the past with his costume (the pha chung hang is gender neutral but that green top is a kinda combo m+f) and pronouns et al.

Language corner:

They are using ancient pronouns. I *think* I heard: daow (3rd), khun/jao/tan (2nd), kaa (Ist) - all pronouns in use are gender neutral - to the best of my understanding.

Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 10 of 12 - Ooo. Day comes out to fam. Also his maa legit took his phone away and said

“I don’t mind you being gay but you can’t date a poor.”

Still, these 2 do kind of make the best secret boyfriends ever.

Also I begin to love Night: “that’s my baby” indeed. You special ain’t ya?

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 7 of 12 -  I’m starting to find this pretty boring at this juncture. Bummer, because for a while I was enjoying it.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 11 of 12 - The stuff with the spy on the team is super boring. I’m not wild about the side characters either. So most of this episode was a bust for me. I did like First’s ex. 

Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 9 of 14 - Charlie & Babe = honeymoon phase. Jeff & Kim = forgotten. Pete & Way = riddles wrapped in alphas but actually enigmas. Everyone else = gang bang phase…. Apparently. Trash watch happening here.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 6 of 12 - Loved that this was a mutual kiss. (Also how comfortable are OffGunn kissing now? Babies!) I’ve moved from indifference to absolute loathing of the side couple tho.

Oddball LIES from the script = the gayest bridge in Bangkok isn’t lit up after 9pm.

Meanwhile, very important kicky kicky feet and Doc is a dork about flirting now that he’s all in. Looks like we get the official boyfriend ep next week.  

You and My Stars YT 2of 2(?) - Couldn’t find it. Not fussed. 

Time the series (Thai Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Okay so there’s a gang and someone named Chris is killed and his boyfriend, actor Foam, is jumped back in time to save him? NO SINGING. Between Chris’s death and that time-slip there’s some kind of accidental murder, a pink pocket watch, Chris being alive again but also a different person, and a make out scene. Are you also confused? Actually, the real question is: Do we continue watching? Remember we (the collective BLorg) do not trust MFlow. 

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) ep 21 of 24 - The acting has been pretty terrible all along with this series, but this one is the worst. I just can’t. I may tune in for the last installment but this one is a DNF for me. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - It’s utterly adorable. Very manga, but so far not grating on my nerves. They so cute! You know I adore a hyung romance. Add a v gay sauna scene and an OUT gay boy and just... YES. All the married breeder regulars being overly invested in their pretty cook’s queer drama queening, it's so good.

AND THEN a confession in the first episode? Japan sure loves to mess with the pacing of plots drops.

Also, how much do I want to eat every single piece  of food in this darn show? 

Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 5 of 8 - Man I wish this were better I enjoyed this more. Sigh. I do LOVE the stepbrother sides. Of course I do. But how can this feature 2 of my favorite relationship types (age gap, stepbrothers) and not be my favorite BL airing? Japan, how do you ALWAYS do this to me? 

VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - I don’t know. I just wish this were better. Also shorter.

I really miss KBL right now.

It's done I Need to Catch up

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have a spare day.

The Servant and the Young Master - from Veitnam so I assume it's on YouTube. I never even noticed. Anyone?

After Sundown - aired on Netflix Thailand. No word on inter release.

It's Airing But...

[INTERNATIONAL] Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - yeah Japan put the smack down on our boys. Sadness. You can use a VPN if you like. Read all about it here.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

Night Dream (Sat YT) 6 eps - It’s a pain to track down and I really didn’t like the first episode so… DNF  

The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if safe.

Dead Friend Forever (Thai Sat iQIYI) - horror, meh, tell me if it's worth my time?

In Case You Missed it

All my year-end round ups:

TOP 10 BL Trends of 2023

Top 10 BL Secondary Pairs of 2023

2023 BLs Best Trope Execution Awards! TOP 10

BL 2023's Best:

Back Hugs Thailand & Elsewhere

Cute Bits of Domesticity

Boys Feeding Boys

BOOP!

Best Cuddles

Heads in Laps

Touching Head Touches

Thailand Put His Head on Your Shoulder

Put Your Head on My Shoulder (not Thailand)

BEST KISSES (not Thailand)

BEST KISSES FROM THAILAND

All the BLs Announced for 2023 that didn't happen

Next Week Looks Like This

More Coming Jan 2024

Beside You (Thai YouTube)

1/24 Love For Love's Sake (Korea Gaga)- based on the Manhwa ‘Love Supremacy Zone’ by Hwacha. A young man is dropped into a game based off a novel he loves. His mission is to make another player, YeoWoon happy. But then the game starts unfolding completely different from the novel.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Why are the oversized flappy flappy sleeves so adorable? (The Sign)

Pit Babe

Frankly 2024 is starting on a whimper... mostly from Babe.

(Last week)

[anxiousbreathing]

Observant | Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x Reader | Teaser

Summary: You are a rising hero at UA, being stalked by Dabi. This piece is a teaser for a series I'm planning on releasing weekly, exploring the concept of a Dabi/Hero!Reader relationship. (AKA, I want an excuse to write Dabi smut with the intensity of a real book with plot :)

Note: I've only seen the show, not the movies, and I haven't read the manga (I know, I know, I suck), so this series will mainly follow that canon.

TW: Overt stalking, vague descriptions of fight scenes. This series will only get more graphic as it goes on, and stalking will continue to be a major plot point. Obviously, if stalking is an uncomfortable topic for you, this is not the fic series for you. Even this small teaser contains descriptions of stalking. PLEASE use your discretion when reading my fics.

You love to dance. It’s always been an integral part of you, a central puzzle piece without which you’d be unfinished. Arms high, body flowing, eyes closed, you have always felt at home in the rhythm of rhyme. Sure, it’s not exactly the first thing anyone thinks of when they imagine a superhero, let alone one whose quirk deals with lightning and electricity. The words carry the stiffness of their namesake, to humans a high-speed, rigid power that runs their entire ecosystem.

To you, it’s a rhythm. The hum of power beneath your veins, embedded in your bones, emboldens you. It sparks a fire in your chest, tearing you apart, your body tingling with kinetic energy, waiting for you to light up. You often feel like you’re on fire when you fight, electricity coursing over your muscles in waves, providing energy, and passion. Your skin is alight, and every movement seems to extrude wrath, a powerful shock shuttering your opponents every time your body makes contact with theirs. 

Every fighter has a flow. They have their favorite moves, the position their body feels most natural and comfortable in, and they will use it to their advantage. The best way to get one over on a fighter with more prowess than you is to recognize their flow and use it to your advantage. When an opponent becomes comfortable, they become predictable; predictability makes an easy target. You don’t love easy targets but you certainly don’t ignore them, either.

Dabi is beginning to understand your flow. He knows your strength, and your tricks, and has watched you in plenty of fights with other villains; a formidable quirk wielded by an equally-intelligent woman. He doesn't fear what you can do, no, that would be silly. In fact, he's very interested in what you can do. You clearly know the ins and outs of your powers very well, managing to use it in heat-of-the-moment, not-exactly-what-it's-meant-for situations.

But it also leads you to get comfortable in your performance. Just like your opponents, you have become predictable in your desires and routine, your right arm extending, hand pointing towards the sky as the hilt of a shining sword materializes in your palm. He was expecting this; in close-range encounters, you take advantage by adapting. While your enemies have to, on the spot, consider how their quirks will interact with the environment around them and their teammates nearby to make a split-second decision about how to engage, you have a leg up: your quirk allows you to materialize a few melee weapons on demand. A shortsword, an axe, and a warhammer. No need to cause collateral damage when you can strike precisely where you need to. No collateral damage means no extra seconds of mental calculation. No extra seconds of mental calculation means that while your opponent is still moving into their first action, you are already pushing your weight through your blade, towards their body, quicker than they can blink.

The shortsword, Dabi knows, is your favorite. His eyes glance up and down the blade as you begin a flurry of offensive attacks against the villain coming too close for comfort. Something about watching your figure, graceful and nimble as you deflect and counter, every pound of body moving exactly where you need it to be, is entirely irresistible. The impeccable control you exert over every inch of your form is astounding. At this point, he guesses, it has to be second nature. There’s no way you could perform the way you do without relegating at least a few processes to your subconscious.

This is where he wants to pin you. 

You, the most popular hero at UA behind Izuku Midoriya. The Living Lightning Bolt. The Girl Made of Power. A woman who can move almost as fast as light has a smile as blinding as the sun, and a reputation for demolishing powerful, well-established villains. Your reputation as the golden child of heroes, a bright girl with no diminishing spots, was exactly what Dabi hoped to take.

Fucking well-off bitch thinks her quirk makes her special, he thought to himself, watching from a nearby rooftop as you shoot across at least a mile of distance, nothing more than a flash of light, to pound your fist into his compatriot's face. She’s just fucking fast. The man flies an unreasonable distance, too far for any normal person to survive, and craters the ground with a deafening noise. Dabi lets out an unimpressed snort.

“You think having a quirk means you get to hurt people?” Your voice echoes across the landscape of destruction surrounding you as you fly towards your target. Buildings torn to shreds, shards of their windows sticking out of gaps in your armor as you stalk towards the villain you just nearly killed while he cowers in the fetal position. The man peers out from behind his arms to make eye contact with you. His body shakes as he takes in all of you, though he has to squint due to the brightness of the electricity wrapping around your limbs. 

“No,” he whispers, eyes wide.

“Yes,” you whisper in return. “Why else do you hurt people like this?”

“No!” This time he yells. Fear has taken over, survival instinct. You can hear his heart slamming in his chest, the peaking static of his pulse giving away his anxiety. His skin is pale and his hands slap the cold ground as he begins to panic, trying desperately to haul himself away before you can get to him. It’s futile, both him and you know. He just fought you. He knows you are faster than he could ever hope to be. “I’m not a bad guy! I’m not - I'm just doing what I have to! I just - ohgodpleasedon’thurtme!”

It’s this moment that nearly kills you. The power you wield naturally fosters this fear in others, a very real concern that at any moment the ‘Godkiller’ could snap. If a woman with the strength of 200 men and a quirk that allows her to control electricity were to have a mental break, she could demolish an entire country. And here is one man, destined to face that killing machine, stripped to his barest bones. In front of you, now, he is nothing but human. Your heart aches.

“Please,” he almost whimpers. “Please.”

Your body towers over his. Your shadow engulfs his shivering form, hands hiding a quaking face, and quivering lip. This man is afraid he will die. No - he thinks you will kill him, and he's afraid you'll make it hurt. The ache inside of you sharpens, tearing you from the inside out.

I am not a bad person.

Dabi watches and waits. He hasn’t actually seen a UA student kill anyone, not even Izuku. To see you, Y/N, the great star of UA, commit such an atrocity would devastate the country’s support for superheroes. And here it is, such an attractive prospect, placed nicely in your lap for the taking. Gnawing his lip, he pulls out his phone and opens the camera app. Placing you directly in the middle of the frame, he hovers his thumb over the Record button, just in case.

Unaware of the man watching your every move, you decide to take a chance. There has been plenty of death already.

Allowing your feet to hit the ground, you take a step toward the villain in the crater. He cowers in fear.

Okay, maybe a gentler approach. As quietly and gently as you can manage while wearing a significant amount of metal plate armor, you sit down and cross your legs, folding your hands in your lap. Waiting, your eyes stayed glued to the villain in front of you. 

After a few minutes of silence, he finds the bravery to peek from behind his hands, and his eyes meet your smile, radiating light as if you hadn’t been this close to beating him into a pulp mere moments ago. His entire body shakes. 

You have never been interested in cruelty. Truthfully, it has never been something you’d gravitated towards, even before you had your quirk. You were a weak, bullied child; when you discovered your powers, it was as though both a solution and more problems revealed themselves. Sure, now you would never be physically hurt again, but what about those other kids? The ones who would never have a quirk? Would they be subjected to relentless bullying the rest of their lives, unable to stand up for themselves the way you could now? No, you'd decided. You would stand for them.

And as you grew older, something else came to light: not everyone gets a desirable quirk. You were one of the lucky ones, with a quirk that was controllable and didn’t stand out in mundane situations. Take Himiko Toga, for example; grew up her entire life with a quirk that made her “undesirable”. Life is infinitely worse for people with quirks that have negative connotations.

So you tried to be understanding, and empathetic. Maybe that villain you’re fighting is misunderstood. Maybe they’ve been struggling their entire life against a system that refuses to make room for them. Maybe they’re tired of feeling like they’re being discriminated against merely because of the luck of the draw, or the decisions of their parents. 

If that’s possible, you can meet them in the middle. You want to be the one to reach out. You will always offer a hand.

So as the man with more broken bones than you thought you’d given him lay cowering in a dent in the Earth you’d made with his body, you sat quietly and watched. A few feet away, so you wouldn’t spook him. Like earning a cat’s trust, almost, except it’s a human being who has every reason to hate you, considering you just beat the piss out of him a minute ago.

Yet the childish side of you continues to sit. Maybe he’ll reach out, it says to you, and so you stay.

Dabi watches the whole time. It’s profoundly stupid, in his opinion, the way you sit there with the villains you demolish. Crush them into dust, and then try to change their minds, as if the whole “obliterating you” part wouldn’t get in the way. He can’t understand why you keep doing this, keep giving chances to people who don’t deserve them - fuck, forget deserving the chance, you’re giving chances to everyone, even the vile bastards who take you for a fool. You never fall for the trick, but you always offer the opportunity to be tricked. That, in his opinion, is fucking stupid.

The low-level villain is too scared of you to let your blind hope in humanity penetrate his fear. You end up turning him into the authorities. This is how it’s gone the last two months Dabi has been watching you. Not once have you met a villain to take you up on your offer to “just talk.” Every time he sees you around, he wonders if you’ve given up hope yet. 

Even now, as you hand the villain off in quirk-cancelling cuffs, that infuriatingly sympathetic look is still on your face. 

He fucking hates your hope. He’d like to watch it die, slowly. He’s convinced it will. 

—----------

Somebody is watching you. They've been watching you for a while. After you fought that villain, something kept nagging at you from the back of your mind. You ignored it until you couldn't any longer, sitting quietly at home in your apartment but assaulted by the hammering of a heart. Static noises peaking, falling, peaking again, getting louder and quieter as your watcher moves around, becomes almost impossible to ignore.

You don’t think they know you know, which is probably for the best. There’s something odd about so many levels of deception, knowing you have the advantage but needing to pretend you don’t to keep it - it’s a precious dance, walking the tightrope of attention.

Act normal. Their heartbeat is so close. Outside the front door? It's so loud now, clouding your thoughts and fuzzing the edges so you're barely able to think. Remember when this would happen as a kid? Of course you remember, you're not stupid, you're just nearly in pain from how impossible it seems to focus your attention. Breathe. Close your eyes. If you were normal, what would you hear?

You close your eyes and try to imagine peace and quiet, but that's not quite right. The noise continues. Your heart is beginning to pick up pace. Breathe. A long inhale, longer exhale. I hear the fridge running quietly. My upstairs neighbor's dog jumping off the couch. There are cars on the street outside, and a bus, engines muffled but still seeping through my windows.

Your mind begins to quiet. You ride it out until the heartbeat is nothing but a mental note to yourself: You're being watched.

Do I just tell them to come out? The thought briefly flits through your mind before you shoo it away. That’s probably the worst thing I could do right now.

I’m safe in my apartment. They can’t get in here. Maybe I’m hearing a neighbor and misinterpreting. You giggle. The thoughts don’t make you feel any more comfortable, but they at least remind you that you might be going insane, which you'd pick over being stalked.

It feels fucked up to know the pattern of your stalker’s heartbeat. Fuck, you’ve never even been in a relationship long enough to know a partner’s heart that well - to be so close to someone so dangerous? It’s an odd sort of shared intimacy. The knowledge they likely think they’re the smart one in this interaction while you listen to their heart begin to speed as they walk past your door - something inside of you lights up at the thought. You love to be clever, and this is such a clever trick. Some personal pride swells in your heart. Dear fuck do not start making this into a confidence thing. Having a stalker is bad, even if you’re outsmarting them.

Finishing a late dinner, you settle on the couch in your living room, tucked warmly underneath a blanket. Happily you notice the heartbeat is receding from your attention - they're finally leaving. Hypervigilance cast aside, your muscles decide to release tension all at once, a profound ache radiating through your body. You didn't realize you'd been sitting so...rigid.

As you watch some shitty reality TV, Dabi is walking away from your apartment, mind full of fantasies of you. Your body floats in his head like some kind of strange “rotate a horse in your brain” experiment, except it’s the beautiful figure of one of the most powerful women on the planet. 

He’s a criminal; no, not just a criminal, a villain. It would not work out. In fact, it would be near-impossible for him to get a word out around you without you immediately noticing his presence and going full-throttle on him. It’s hard enough to dodge flying bolts of lightning and blink-and-you're-dead punches; try doing that while also trying to flirt with the person trying to kill you.

Something about that turns him on. You’d be so shocked, he imagines, there's a decent chance you'd freeze in place. That’d be a sight; a literal lightning strike frozen in the moment. The electricity wrapping around your arms sparks when you’re excited, he knows from having watched you with your teammates. Your body looks like an arc flash when anyone mentions boba tea or ancient history. Would you light up like a ball of energy, seething at the edges, if he touched you? Would you spark under his skin?

Stupid, he thinks to himself as he walks the back streets back to his hideout. Toga is going to grill him again on where he’s been; he’ll give the same answer he always does, none. It works out well enough. Dabi doesn’t cause problems for the league, and Shigaraki lets him do his bullshit during his free time. Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t need to know, anyway, about Dabi’s personal interests, so long as it doesn’t interfere with his duties.

The worst part will begin soon when he has to track you down again. You’re a fast girl, always zipping in and out of fights, occasionally floating above the chaos. Fuck, half the time he has no clue if you’re even in Japan; he just assumes. No worries. If he could find you once, he can find you again. 

[kaetastic]

IF ONLY YOU KNEW

pairing: Regulus Black x Slytherin!F!Reader

summary: She was born green. Well, not literally, but the bond between two Slytherins was like no other. Written in the stars, destiny had been made for the two long before they were even born. So if he was truly her soulmate, does she have to bear the weight of his absence until she wilts?

word count: 4.1k

warning: angst, talks of character's death. had a plot, lost said plot.

notes: I haven’t written in some time even though I know I could’ve :( It was more than writer’s burnout, but even that I can’t pinpoint why. I also feel that Tumblr is the ONLY social media platform that I own where I don’t feel discouraged at any sort of interaction. I feel free here because I get to publish a story and just read other pieces by other authors. I also feel like this story has less of a plot and more of angst LOL IM SORRY OKAY i just want to cry right now haha.

“It is understandable that you are nervous.” The soft voice filled the air. Even though the windows were perched open as wide as they could to invite new air in, the witch felt incredibly suffocated. There were a lot of thoughts circulating her mind, overlapping each other and cutting one after the other before it could be completed. She felt her energy dim down by each second as her brain welcomed the traffic. Sometimes she wished there were potions that could hinder the thoughts for just a moment.

Her eyes laid on the reflection of her figure on her vanity mirror. Despite taking care of herself and getting ready to combat the obstacles of the day, sleep was one thing that did not want to cooperate with her. No matter what magic. The prominent eye bags were embarrassing to say the least after consuming concoctions after concoctions. Specifically tailored to her own suffering by some of the best Potioneers and apothecaries. The best people that came when you had pureblood family connections.

The witch was blessed (as her late mother would say) for having such luxuries in her life without ever working for it. Except, her mother didn’t say that in a ‘you have to appreciate what you have’ and more like ‘you have better things than low-life people so make sure to use it to your advantage and rub it on their faces.’ However, she never understood. Yes, she had wealth to her name, she had always been gifted with extravagant gifts ever since a mere infant, and she had all the access to so many things a normal witch didn’t. But in the far back of her mind, she had one thought on an endless repetition. She would trade it all for him back. Anything and everything.

“No. It is not. I am not just nervous, I’m,” Y/N huffed out, pushing the sentences and thoughts she would need to the most prioritized in her head. Pushing herself out of the vanity seat, she paced from one side of her room to the other. There were jitters in her legs, suddenly she needed to let out the pent up emotions in a form of movement. “I feel so angry, it is indescribable, and then I feel so down.”

A chuckle came from the previous voice, “Yes, I am very much aware of your rollercoaster of emotions. In fact, wasn’t I always the one to call you out on it?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, planting her palms on the window sill, her pupils grazed over the well-looked after garden. The male blurted, “Would it be so bad?”

Despite being caught up on the butterfly that innocently planted itself on a leaf, the witch mumbled under her train of thoughts, “I don’t know. It could go so many ways and I do not like that. Just when I thought I was settling myself into peace (that was a lie), of course Dumbledore had to reach out to me.”

She held her head low, fingers fidgeting with the ring wrapped around her finger. It was so cheesy for it to house an emerald crystal, but cheesy was one side he showed her to no one else. Y/N plopped back down on the seat, her head resting on her hands. Gorgeous. A masterpiece worked on so hard the public sought after it so much just to take it from her grasp. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t with her anymore. She sighed, getting lost in the colourless picture. The witch stared at it with so much love and longing that it might’ve pushed her back to square one, “Reggie, I wish you were here.”

Her thumb caressed the framed picture so gently.

“What do you mean, my love? I am.” The moving figure in the photo smirked, leaning his body on the side of the frame. Y/N noted the curls in his hair gently falling down his face. Tranquil nights that were not exactly innocent shared together in a bed, she had always fidgeted with the strands of hair that stuck to the sweat beads on his forehead. Nights that she can count. She missed the feeling of it between her fingers, and the way he always smelt like his cologne. It was always lingering.

“Piss off Reggie,” The wizard laughed a melody she so dearly missed. “You know what I mean.”

Regulus’ lips fall into a thin line.

“I am always with you. Remember when I spent that one summer at yours? The stupid promise I made when we were kids that I was going to haunt you even when I am dead is still being upheld.” Y/N laughed and she couldn’t help but feel the tears prickling in her eyes, “You are more than capable. We both know it. Dumbledore may had his eyes out for us back then, but he’s a man who wants to do good.”

That’s where the issue lied. Why did Dumbledore send an owl to her? Even though in the letter, the great wizard had stated that she was invited for a private meeting- that had to be the most vague reasoning ever. Not to forget the fact that Dumbledore had remembered how great of a student she was. He stated that she had great skills and assets. That was it. The line ended there… before he mentioned that the meeting would take place in 12 Grimmauld Place. That had stuffed a blockage in her throat because Y/N couldn’t breathe after slapping the letter to a close.

Despite there being no inhibitors of that house for some time, Y/N could not bear the idea of making that place her home. She could not imagine herself getting out of bed, reading a book, and cozying up in front of the fireplace (the other tasking job would have been carried out by the elf) because every corner of that house reminded her of Regulus. There was no universe where she would settle in a place that reminded her of what she no longer had. So she stayed at the house they dreamt of for their future. It was bought by their families as an engagement gift for when they had turned 17. It was young, sure, but the two were more than sure. Additionally, this was the future set up for them.

The new house still held memories of him, but not as much. It was a comprimise but she would rather make home of a place that lacked her painful memories. Wrapping a hefty, tight chain around her chest, it felt like a punishment knowing that the house was once a wish for the two. Now, it’s just her living that wish.

Regulus kept yapping reassurance, always using the wit he was adorned for while Y/N entertained herself with the countless framed pictures of Regulus. It felt like a routine at this point. A restart to the cycle she wished would just end. With a wide grin, Regulus had his fist thrown in the air as he rode the quidditch broom as if he was born for it. An arm had been thrown over her shoulders, yanking her closer to his body. The couple smiled in bliss in their infamous green robes. So innocent, so clueless for the future that was awaiting.

The witch remembered it as if it was yesterday, the jealousy that always were aimed at the two by the other pureblood children of their age. To be bethrothed before you were even breathing the air of the world was one thing; however, to be bethothed before being born and falling head over heels for one another was a one in a billion. Always reminded by her great aunts and all the women in her life that in one form or another, they had to find peace in their marriage. They had to find and make love in the marriage. It didn't apply to them.

Even though their seniors would tease and jest them for how they were always joined hip to hip every single day, they knew deep down- they craved for what they had. The compatibility between the two was a dream not even fairtytales could match. She knew that girls had eyes on Regulus, who wouldn't? But it was more than wanting the boy, it was wanting what they had. Regulus never had to reassure her despite the few times a burn had ignited in her chest. She knew they were for one another. Who could rewrite what was already written in the stars?

The ideal pureblood match.

She realized Regulus had stopped talking. The wizard watched her with such affection in his eyes, “What does Dumbledore want with me?”

The nature of the great wizard always ticked her off. Despite being praised for doing so many good deeds like Grindelwald, he did some things very harshly and brazenly. Not to forget his favoritism towards Gryffindor. It was petty of her to hold onto a memory like that after all these years, but she couldn’t help it.

“I’m not too sure either. However… the timing of the letter and my brother’s escape is too coincidental for it to be otherwise.” Regulus replied.

Great. Even though the wizard had stated in the letter that it was just a private meeting between the two, she knew the wizard always had cards up his sleeves. If she was, thereotetically, to meet Sirius Black- she would actually freeze in time. The two Black brothers didn't exactly look identical, but the black curls, their mannerism... she hoped he became a worse prick than he was in school.

Y/N sighed out, she needed to get this over with even though she really did not want to face whatever it was, "It's time."

The wizard in the frame sent a comforting smile, "You've got this, my love."

Pulling the drawer of the vanity, the hinges creaking, she pulled out a box that was kept in pristine condition. It had been so long since she needed to take it out. It's not like she left her house often. She let her eyes rest on the frame before resting her hands on its side as if it had been the most fragile thing to exist.

"See you soon, Reggie."

The lid of the box shut out the talking wizard.

There it was in all its glory. Number 12 Grimmauld Place. The rumbling and droplets of bricks had ceased, revealing the door camouflaged to all eyes except those with magic in their veins. She didn't know how to feel. Despite preparing herself for a few days and en route to apparate, she was very much not ready. Her fingers suddenly went numb. Although, the grip on her box remained tight as ever.

Y/N felt as if she had gone mad. The voice of her lover when he was a mere age of 12 played in her ears, followed by his laugh. Not even controlling her muscles, the corner of her lips curled up at the memory. The peri-puberty voice would be completely gone in a couple of years when he reached 17. Now it's a voice embroided in a picture frame.

She breathed in before taking a step forward. Just get it over with. Without even knocking, she made the boisterous creaking of the wooden door as her announcement. She had done the one thing she thought she wouldn't ever have to do. Step foot into the house her late lover would've inherited. The place reeks of him.

It was depressing- the thoughts and the place. She stood at the entrance of the incredibly narrow hallway, the walls that used to hold up framed portraits of credulous Black family members now empty with decaying portaits. Unmaintained. Corners of the wallpaper had start to curl into the air, its sharp edges prodding in the air- ready to launch attack to whomever finds confidence. The floor panels creaked with every slight step she made, and her body was enveloped by a sudden fright when she heard faint murmurs.

"Blood-traitors..."

That voice. As her head shot up with nostalgia and eyes sparkled with hope, a petite figure made way into her peripheral, stepping down from the staircase. If Y/N had to use better vocabulary, she would describe it as an aged old creature with wrinkles on its skin that matched trenches of mountains, on the other hand, she would describe it as what you would imagine sagging skin. The witch stood in the entrance, suddenly feeling the box slipping in her grip as she stared at the elf with a wide smile.

Feeling a presence in a house he was sworn to protect, the elf turned to face the witch. No, the magic in her wasn't tainted. It hadn't been touched. At all. Pure. His eyes widened while the corner of his lips curled up. A smile he had only been giving to his Mistress Walburga Black for Godric knows how long.

"Miss!" The house-elf exclaimed. Holding his cleaning equipments close to his chest, he couldn't believe it. She was right in front of him. In flesh. Excitement jitters in his frail old body, excitement he forgot he could experience. This was beyond a good day. This make ups for the blood traitor who found shelter in the house he had been taking care of ever since the Black household had vanished. Well, partially. Kreacher did not know how to react.

"Kreacher." The witch retorted back, a grin now playing on her face as she stepped closer towards him. She remembered how the house-elf was always so loyal and dedicated to the Black household. Well, to all except Sirius. There were summers when she had resided in the house- times when she truly had Regulus all to herself. Even though she wished those moments were calm and peaceful, it truly was not. The bricks of the house stayed solid until chaos erupted from the same source every single time. Sirius. Y/N lost counts of how many times she had left Regulus' room to meet the scowls on Sirius' face. Shouts after screams, arguments after disagreements- it was the norm for the Black household until Sirius had left home. Then there were never much noise.

If there was one thing Sirius was right about, it was the more time Y/N and Regulus had spent time together- the deeper they were in the hell-hole of trouble.

The house-elf stared up in amazement, "Miss! Kreacher has missed you! Kreacher has lost count how long it has been since Kreacher had seen Miss!"

Sitting on the edge of her tongue, the witch readied herself to reply to the joyness but not a word. Not a speckle of sound was made. How long has it truly been? It was a foolish question to ask since she had been counting ever since Regulus had left home and never came back. A decade and a half. A chunk of one's life and she still believed that her heart could not be mended. Her heart heavy wherever she went, even the short walk through her garden. Maybe if she left her house more often and saw more people than those that came to visit hers for services, she would've moved on. Would it be wrong? To devote yourself to one person who you thought your future lied with, then find someone else? Would it be so selfish?

"It has been some time, Kreacher."

The house-elf nodded eagerly, he thought today would be like no other except for the fact that he now has another burden on his plate, "Kreacher hasn't seen Miss in so long, Kreacher asks what is Miss' business in the Black's home?"

"She's here for me."

The split second she gaped her mouth to respond, another much deeper voice responded. Standing at the staircase stood a man with little to no life in him, Azkaban truly sucked the life out of him. His skin lost its colour, grey and pale, almost sickly. His eyes looked like it sunk in deeper than before, he lost fat in his cheeks, and his beard somehow trimmed. He obviously controlled whatever he could, but a few months would not bring back the soul he had 12 years ago.

"Welcome back,” The wizard gave her a tight smile as if he knew she was trying to get under his skin. Well, she wasn't exactly trying- after years of not getting along together, it just happened naturally. Y/N tilted her head, "Thought I was meeting Dumbledore."

"Well," He shot back, leaning on the railings (that was enough for the house-elf to take his leave despite not wanting to), "You thought wrong. I have no idea how people falling for his tricks.”

She chuckled at the absurdity.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius shot an eyebrow at her question. For a moment she thought she had asked the wrong question. No. She did not. As he made down the last few steps, the man stood in front of her. At an angle, maybe with lots of alterations and blurring, he looked like her Reggie.

“It’s my home. Well, house,” He quickly corrected himself. “Though, I’m surprised.”

When he noticed she didn’t understand him, he continued, “This place was to be yours, was it not? But you left. Abandoned it even.”

While he had the joy to crane his neck around at the place that seemed to be holding onto its last thread, she had her eyes set on his face. He found it humorous. Funny. Amusing. There were not enough words in the English vocabulary to describe the burning in her chest. The wizard turned to her face, “So why are you not occupying it?”

“You’re infuriating as ever.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

As much as she wanted to stupefy the man before her, there was one question she wanted an answer to. So many questions but she yearned to have its replied to. She mumbled, eyes wandering on the diminshed trimmings of the walls- something she suddenly became fascinated with, “How did you find out?”

He hummed, waiting for her to finish.

“How did you find out about him?”

Him. She clutched the cardboard box harder, leaving small indents of pressure that could be brought back with a little magic. Losing Regulus was something she had to make peace with, but having a photo framed of him that was capable of communicating with her did not make it easy. Especially when she had begged numerous times at the beginning where he had been. Where he had gone to.

'Your mind is clouded with questions that I cannot answer, and I am sorry that I will never be able give you that clarity. My absence will leave a hole in your days. I know that it is selfish of me to know of its consequence and still pursue with it but I wish you a good life, a life we talk so much of. A life that I can no longer be part of. No danger will trail you, our past is the past.'

The words were choked out of her throat as the sudden recall of his letter clenched her heart.

Sirius wet his lips, “Kreacher did. That was after I checked his room.”

Regulus' room. The room she had made enemies with ever since the disappearance. She bet it remained the same. The sheets made neat (just how Walburga liked it), the carpet inched slightly to an odd angle, the broomstick leaned against the wall, and the framed picture of them freed of dusts.

"Although, that elf never mentioned anything."

The glossy appearance of her eyes vanished into the air once she brought her attention back to the escapee in front of her. It was the same response she received when she had gone on her knees for the house-elf, begging with bursting springs out of her eyes.

You are truly cruel, Regulus.

"He said the same thing to me."

Now it was Sirius' time to be intrigued, "Were you not head over heels for my brother? Or am I missing some bits here?"

Y/N couldn't help but to chuckle. Sirius and Regulus was the face of the rebellion for the phrase 'blood runs thicker than water'. He did not know what happened to his brother, he did not seem to be bothered by it. They dare say Slyterins were full of hatred.

"Let's move to the tapestry."

Understanding of how suffocating it was in the narrow entrance, the two magical beings stood in the room that had generations of the Black family marked on. A room full of history. There was one name she only sought out for, and she lost herself in his name.

"I don't know either. One... one day," She cleared her throat, noticing how her emotions were gripping around her words. "He held me like it was our last time. I jokingly asked if he would miss me for a few hours. He didn't say anything. Once he left that door, he never came back home."

Her fingers traced over the 'some fifteen years earlier' text.

"I knew how strong he was. He was more than capable but I could not find sleep that night. It felt like there was something in me- telling me that something was not right. The bed felt wrong, the air was wrong- it all felt wrong. I then saw the sun awaking, so I did too. And on top of the kitchen table was this."

The wizard looked at the carboard box she was handing to him. He had been extremely curious as to what she was holding, but did not inquire. His breath stilled. The lid came off to reveal the young man he had grown up with. While he looked like he aged a hundred years with tattoos scattered all over his body, the wizard in the photo frame had encapsulated his youth. No moment would have prepared him when a voice rang into his ears.

"Oh, hello, brother."

Sirius nearly flipped the box out of his hands if it wasn't for Y/N's quick reflexes. The box floated in the air whilst the magic residue from her wand evaporated into the air.

"What- what is that!" Clearly he wasn't aware of the invention.

"A picture frame."

"Well, clearly it is! What do you take me for? A fool?"

Before he could snap another remark at her, Regulus chirped up, "I think we all do, Sirius."

The wizard took a step back as Y/N pulled out the frame out of the box, displaying the moving picture. It was as if Regulus was inside the frame. Stuck. It could not be.

"Regulus... I don't know how to explain it but he enchanted it as if it was him."

Sirius took a deep breath in before looking back at the picture frame, suddenly very aware of his surrounding. He did not know if he should throw a fist or flee from the room. What magic was this? He has never heard of an interactive picture frame.

"What dark magic have you guys dabbled in?"

Y/N threw a hard glance at him, "It is not dark magic."

"Then what is it? There is no such thing as a talking picture! I've seriously gone mad. Merlin."

Regulus and Y/N watched as Sirius gripped his mane of a hair, crouching onto the ground whilst he rock himself slowly. He was mumbling incoherent things under his breath. Regulus could not help the stiffle that escaped his lips. The younger wizard found it beyond amusing. It was entertaining him. At the sound, Sirius snapped up, pointing fingers at the picture frame.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"To show you how great of a wizard he was, Sirius. I, of all people, knew the dispute between you two. You don't need the closure but I know deep down, you wonder just the same as me. We grew up together under this roof and we both have so many unanswered questions."

"I know the irrational and troubling things we did back then, but we grew up, we saw things we didn't before. Despite all the evil we were in, Regulus and Kreacher refused to tell me what happened. Not a bit. I know that I cannot be the only one to mourn him because Regulus is more than a stranger- he's your baby brother."

Sirius's eyes met with her glossy ones, the term sounded so foreign to him. The man whose voice was not heard and thrown behind bars felt a pin poke his heart as he realized the woman before him seeked answers he now also wants.