#and pretty much unrecognizable ugh

[salmonight]

A mostly unrecognizable but nonetheless gorgeous Perona~

I am absolutely obsessed with Circus themes so i got most of her pieces from those kinda settings mixing them a bit up into this gothic beauty.

I swear finding the right skirt was a right nightmare so not to waste the fabulous outfits i managed to create...

I will include them beside the lineart!

(And yes I ended up changing the expression cuz it looked off after coloring not to mention i just couldn't figure the damn lipstick for that damn mouthpiece!!)

In the end I just mixed two of the skirts together cuz I was just so done hahha

So this happened on totally accident but it looked so fricking awesome I just had to show it off-

[peterman-spideyparker]

The Girl Before (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hi! This was written on my phone in maybe fifteen minutes and isn’t really proofread. I don’t know why I have so many angsty ideas lately, but here’s another one. I might do a part two, but for all intents and purposes right now, this is a stand alone.

Summary: You love Matt. Even after your breakup, you still have so much love for him. But now, it’s clear that you’re the furthest thing from his mind.

Warnings: Angst, unrequited love, drinking, heartbreak

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, Karen Page

You don’t even know why you’re drinking a beer. You hate beer. You don’t even know why you’re here at Josie’s. But it’s the only thing that makes sense for you to be doing right now. It’s sad to be drinking alone, drowning your sorrows in the dark of your apartment, but it’s even sadder to be drinking alone in a bar with a drink you don’t even like to try and get over a guy. But the thing is, it’s not just some guy. It’s Matt.

Matt is the love of your life, you have no question in your mind about that. You were in love with him, and he was in love with you. But somewhere, somehow, something went wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong, and he broke your heart and left you to pick up the pieces. For him, it was like he was tearing off a bandage. But for you, it was like the car stalling on the tracks with a train barreling toward you showing no signs of stopping until all that was left behind was wreckage. An unrecognizable mess from something out of the blue.

Somehow, you heard that Matt was engaged. To whom, you don’t know, and when he’s making that vow in front of his loved ones, you don’t know. If anything, she’s probably gorgeous. Matt has always had a type, a type that you always felt you were an anomaly in. He never seemed to care, and after a while, you believed him. He just loved you, no strings attached. Sweet affection, soft kisses, seemingly unconditional love. And then, one day, it all just came undone.

Maybe that’s the real reason you’re here—on the off chance you’ll run into Matt, you’ll come to him or he’ll come to you, you’ll patch things up, and you could move back toward what you were. You know the kind of life he leads. It’s hard, so damn hard, but you know you can trust him and what he does and he knows that you’ll be there for him when he needs you. With another swig of your drink, you purse your lips and frown as it goes down your esophagus. Ugh, you really hate beer. As the bottle meets the napkin on the counter, your attention is drawn to the opening door. A small little group in black tie attire enters, laughing and cheering as they enter the bar for their little reception. Your heart stops and you almost fall off of your stool when you see Karen, Foggy, and Matt as some of the last bodies to enter in the group. The move to a couple of tables in the back, Matt kissing the temple of one of the girls in the group. The fiancée, no doubt. The way he smiles, how he carries himself as he moves to the bar breaks your heart. He pauses when he gets to the bar, seemingly recognizing your presence at the far end of it, but you see a little shiny, new gold band encircling his fourth finger. Your heart shatters, the shards then cutting you from the inside out leaving you in immeasurable pain. Why weren’t you good enough for him to stay? What did you do wrong? Why don’t you have the matching ring on your left hand?

Before the tears can roll down your face and you lose all sense of emotional control at the end of the bar, you place some money on the counter and hop off your stool, throwing your bag over your shoulder and rushing out of the bar as fast as you possibly can. Except for Matt noticing you, or at least what you think is him noticing you, you make a pretty clean escape.

When you met Matt, you were so sure he was the one. Now, you have to live with the fact that to the love of your life—the only person you ever really, truly loved—you didn’t mean as much to him as he did you. To Matt, you were just the girl before the one.

————————————

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​

Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Coming Home: Part 2

Hm...Well, that’s great...

Komaru: What’s wrong?

I’ve been down here for 2 minutes and I’ve already found a dead body...

Komaru: What!?

Look.

*Everyone peers through Akeru’s earpiece. She stands in front of a gravestone shaped like a dog. The name on the dog reads “Lara.”

Kyoko: Looks like Yodogawa buried his dog here...I didn’t expect he’d be a pet person...

Kuripa: He kept a dog down there? No wonder it died.

...

*Everyone goes quiet.

Kuripa: What!?

Maya: That’s pretty sick man.

Kuripa: I’m just saying! Would YOU keep a dog trapped down here!? You’d suffocate it before long!

Zen.

Wah-!? Ugh! Stop doing that!

*The hologram appears once again in front of the grave and starts to stroll around the garden.

I just thought you would like to kn-know, the front-ont door is l-l-locked. It r-requires some time for activation.

Ok...well...Activate it.

Of course. What is the code?

Uuuuuh...

Aoi: Damn! Of course NOW we have passcode protection.

Uh...didn’t you say I had dementia? How am I supposed to remember the code?

If I recall correctly, you said you it was the code on the wristband.

Wristband?

My wristband? If you’d like a reminder, I believe you left it over at the gazebo.

Oh...ok... Gazebo it is.

*Akeru and the hologram go over to the gazebo.

Also, I just thought I’d t-tell you; I’ve reconstructed some-GRRGCK-past exp-experiments you might like to revisit. I hope they-they-they-KKCH!-enhance your experience.

Are you good bro?

Byakuya: He’s bugging out. What’s going on? And what does he mean “past experiments?”

Show me one of these past experiment reconstructions or whatever.

C-Certainly.

Woah!

*Akeru is suddenly hit with bright lights. The fake sky around her suddenly starts shifting, and light is cast down on the gazebo.

What the-!? Are you guys seeing this?

Four: Seeing...still working on believing.

Makoto: What’s going on? What’s it doing!?

*Everyone waits for a second until the shifting stops. Then, suddenly, two hologram figures appear inside. One stands up and looks at the house, a figure who’s unrecognizable. The other is Yodogawa himself.

...Take me inside...I’m tired...

Aoi: Why’s it acting like that?

Byakuya: Actually, I don’t think this is the house AI. It appears to have began some sort of...data reconstruction.

Toko: I get it. It’s showing us events that happened here a while ago. This is the REAL Seishi Yodogawa, or at least...a memory of him.

Let’s stay in the gazebo a little longer. Don’t you think it’s nice to be home?

Komaru: Who the heck is THAT guy?

I don’t know. The AI didn’t properly reconstruct him.

Makoto: Listen carefully Akeru. This could be important.

This place...Listen to me Zen. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me up until now, but this place isn’t my home. It never will be.

I’m sorry you don’t like it old friend. It was quite a project.

Well, you wasted your money.

So...YOU’RE this Zen guy...Now what relationship did you and my father have?

I must ask. Why would you go through so much trouble for such a foolish enterprise?

Let’s just say that it’s not easy to find people in my line of work this day and age. Tragedy time, sure, but now the world is recovering and...I guess I’d rather focus on what I’m good at rather than what Precepts Peak made me.

*The blue hologram sits down next to Seishi’s.

Look. I know you’re scared. I would be too. But I will not leave your side until you’re better. 

Better? Better...!? What, so you know more than the doctors? Zen...I have Grade 3 Brain Cancer. There IS no getting better.

Grade 3...!?

Rgh...Bloody wristband!

*The reconstructed Seishi starts crying, tugging on the patient wristband. However, against expectation from anyone, the other mysterious figure, Zen, suddenly cuts the band off using a pair of garden clippers.

Wh-What are you doing!?

You’re sick and tired of the hospitals and doctors, right? Well, there are no more of them in your life...I’M taking care of you now.

What...do you intend to do?

You’ll see.

*The hologram reconstruction suddenly ends.

Komaru: Oooh...I’m not liking that...

Toko: Yeah...gonna be honest? Starting to have REAL BAD feelings about this “Zen” guy.

Makoto: But wait, did you guys see? Zen cut off the wristband. Maybe it was left here?

Ah right! I see it!

*Akeru picks up.

Seishi. Open the door to the house please.

Sure. What is the code?

4532.

Makoto: Oh...

What?

Makoto: Sorry, for a second there I thought it might be...

Byakuya: 11037?

Makoto: I mean it USUALLY is.

P-Password accepted. House unlocked.

Sweet. Guess I’ll go in.

Kyoko: Be careful Akeru. The more we find out, the less I like.

...

*Akeru steps inside the house. It’s dark, save for the light that pours in through the window. The living room she steps into is suspiciously cozy.

Byakuya: Take a look around. See if you can find what 404 wanted us to find.

Alright...

*Akeru walks around the living room, but doesn’t find anything, but then she sees an offshoot of the room. She walks into it and finds a small garage full of bits of technology.

Well, I think I found the part that Yodogawa was using as a lab...

Kyoko: Hm...I believe Seishi’s AI did say that it was used here. But I’m not sure. This seems too small to be a lab used to create AI technology.

Byakuya: And...what might THAT be?

Makoto: What?

Byakuya: Don’t you see it? The gigantic pane of glass leading into something dark?

...?

*Sure enough, the room is divided by a big sheet of glass, with the area behind it being poorly lit. Akeru approaches the glass and peers inside.

...

I think something’s in there-

RAWRGH GRARGGGH!!!

AAAAAAAAAHHH!?

Komaru: AKERU! GET BACK!

Makoto: A BEAST MONOKUMA!?

Toko: Hold on! We’re coming down!

No wait! 

*Everyone stops.

Rrrrggh...

I don’t think it’s hostile...I think I just scared it.

Aoi: Are you crazy!? It’s a Beast Monokuma! They’re designed to ravage everything they see!

Kuripa: No, wait! She might be onto something! Look!

*Everyone takes another look through the earpiece.

...

*The beast sits down quietly and stares at Akeru, not making any further attempts to attack her.

Kuripa: Besides, even if it is hostile, I doubt it’s getting past that glass. Yodogawa must have kept it here for a reason.

Makoto: But why would Yodogawa have a Monokuma in his basement?

Kyoko: ...

Aoi: Kyoko?

Kyoko: I have a theory...but I don’t like it...We can test it though.

Byakuya: Test it? How?

Kyoko: Akeru. I know this sounds crazy, but I need you to do me a favor.

Go ahead.

Kyoko: Approach the glass...Call the Monokuma... “Lara”

Makoto: Lara?

Maya: That’s Yodogawa’s dead dog, isn’t it?

Four: Kyoko...You’re not saying...!?

...Lara?

*Akeru attempts it, placing her hand on the glass.

...*whimper*

...!?

*The Beast immediately calms down, pressing it’s paw against the glass casing.

Kyoko: So it’s as I thought...

Komaru: Wait...why did it react like that!?

Toko: Did Yodogawa create an Alter Ego of his dog and put it a Monokuma?

Kyoko: ...I don’t think so...it’s something much...MUCH worse...

...

Seishi!

Y-Yes Zen?

Reconstruct another scene for me. I want to know what happened to this dog!

Of course. Beginning experiment reconstruction.

*The AI drifts back out into the living room. Akeru swiftly follows. The two holograms from before appear again.

Seishi, I promise you, the Neural Mapping procedure is completely safe! You’re being far too paranoid!

What is WRONG with you Zen!? I said NO! And that’s final!

*Seishi sits on a sofa, but gets up on a pair of clearly unhealthy legs to yell at Zen further.

I’ve been to the garage! I’ve seen what you did to Lara!

Lara is alive and well!

You call that ALIVE!? You took her brain and put it in that MONSTER! 

Where the hell do you get these TWISTED ideas Zen Katagiri!? If you plan on “curing” me through something like that, then forget it! I will NOT become another one of your sick creations!

Sick? SICK!? You think I’M sick!? Well how do you think I became that way Yodogawa!?

Zen...Listen to me. This is NOT your decision. If you really wanted to take care of me...You’d listen to my requests...

...

*The hologram closes.

!!!??

*After it does, Akeru rushes back into the garage and towards the Beast Monokuma behind the glass.

*whimper*

WHAT THE FUCK!?

Komaru: Akeru! Watch the language!

Kuripa: To hell with the language! This is some psychotic serial killer shit!

Aoi: Yodogawa really killed his own dog to turn it into this sick creation of his!?

Makoto: Hina! By now you should have realized that Yodogawa isn’t the one doing all of this!

Byakuya: Agreed. This other man - Zen Katagiri - He’s our true mastermind.

Aoi: But we haven’t even heard of this guy up until now. Who IS he!?

Maya: He’s fucking insane is what he is! No normal person could do THIS to a living creature!

Four: I agree...To make matters worse, Lara clearly doesn’t want to be in that body. I wouldn’t either.

...

Guys...I’m sorry, but...

Makoto: What’s wrong Akeru?

I’m about to do something you guys might not like...

*Akeru suddenly goes over to the battery panel near the doorway. She flips it and looks at the mains.

*sigh*

Byakuya: Are you gonna-

Kyoko: Shh.

...

*Akeru reaches over to the levers and switches one off.

*whimper!* Grrr...Ruff! ...

*A few seconds after she does, the Beast Monokuma stops moving.

...There there...Good girl.

...*sniff*...Good girl.

Kuripa: You’re a brave soul kid. 

Byakuya: Agreed. Not many would be able to do what you just did.

Toko: Akeru...

Makoto: This isn’t right. We shouldn’t be subjecting her to this stuff.

Uncle Koto, trust me...I’ve seen worse.

Makoto: Have you...!?

Well...alright...it’s damn high up there on some of the worst stuff I’ve ever seen, but...I’ve got something even worse on my mind.

Komaru: What is it Akeru?

If Katagiri did this to the family dog...

...What the hell did he do to my father...?

[pseudepigraphon]

i love your art style so much!!! it brings to mind classical artists and it’s just. ajdjjffjkfkvkf incredible. how did you go about developing such a unique style? i feel like i’m in a rut of my art looking very generic and i’m not sure how to get out of that.

thank you so much !!! i'm not sure if i would call myself qualified to give advice but here goes.

first things first, i wanna say that i totally understand your feelings, at times i've struggled and will likely continue to struggle with the fear that my art is generic and unrecognizable. to that i'd like to say that unrecognizability is a very nebulous concept; there's no hard line between distinct and not so. is renowned art not often a part of movements? also consider that your perspective is likely very skewed by the fact that it's your art -- not necessarily that you may be harsher on yourself than you would be on another person but the fact that no one else is looking at your art as much as you are. however long it takes you to draw you're staring at all your art for the entirety of its drawing, when no one else has. i've noticed it in all kinds of creative stuff i do -- with writing too i'll often go "ugh this is boring and generic and obvious" and then i'll remember that i've typed at and reread this manuscript a bajillion times. it's a matter of perspective! try to remember that when a person sees your artwork it is the work as is, they do not have the familiarity that you do with your own process and the time it took to do so. they have fresher eyes, it’ll be new to them!

if you find you're beginning to get stuck in a rut of self-criticism that feels harsher than usual, the best things you can do (at least in my experience) are: 1 DO STUDIES! or 2 TRY SOMETHING WACKY!

1 DO STUDIES! look at the work of artists you admire! go look at something in your house, out in your life! find a photo or object you really like! and STUDY THAT THING! When you get an idea for something to draw, STUDY THAT TRAIN OF THOUGHT! EXPLORE IT! explore the world and the visuals you can draw from it in all its nooks and crannies!

obviously studies are pretty broad as like. a Thing, and i mentioned several types above. studies are basically like artistic practice, with you visually following your trail of thought until you're secure enough in your skills that you can then advance onto proper pieces. like taking a practice test !

if you really like an artist and want to figure out what exactly makes their style click, then look at your favorite pieces and use it as a reference, sketch the piece down, try to figure out what you can do, deduce what techniques they did and replicate them. as a note, obviously with these if you want to share them then mention it's a study, though i would recommend you only share if it's a well known and/or artist who has died, due to the fact that it's kind of disrespectful to try and get art clout off of someone's work that they could have gleaned. but also a study doesn't have to be a copy -- there are plenty of artists who try to work in another artist's style but use their favorite characters or pairings instead (me included, lol)

but also i would highly recommend studying how to draw from real references ! go outside and do art out in the environment, or even just from the view from the nearest window, or the objects on your desk. the thing about studies is that they're practice, they flex the muscles that drive your inner skill that can then be projected into pieces with less second guessing.

2 TRY SOMETHING WACKY! i'm a big 'oh my god i need enrichment in my enclosure or i will DIE' kind of guy, so i find that these really help too. sometimes when i'm stuck in a rut it's because i've burrowed myself too much into monotony, i've done too much similar things for too long. if you feel that way, then try something WACKY just completely OUT OF LEFT FIELD something you've NEVER DONE BEFORE (not literally Completely different from what you're used to but y'know ! something new!) whether it be a medium or style or approach or technique or subject matter or what !!! it's basically the aforementioned enrichment -- yeah sure trying something you're not used to can end in frustration or a result not as good as you'd like, but it'll also give that great spark of variety that can make you go "WOAH! I REALLY LIKE THIS!" and boom, you've both rejuvenation and a new idea / method / aspect of style in your arsenal

if i had to think of the main thing that's influenced how i stylize people, i'd probably land it on franco-belgian comics / bandes dessinées, especially les tuniques bleues and corto maltese. i have no idea if my art looks like bd art, or if it ever did, but it's a huge love of mine and likely bled in somehow, hah. but of course that's only a fraction of what you'd call an 'art style'. (in general i'd say the main pillar of my philosophy with approaching stylizing people is to make them unique and to avoid conventional beauty. to bring out imperfection and the subtle traits that blossom out to make a person's face their own. because i love human faces, but also i love human faces when they don't look like white twink / instagram gal #455934384)

i would say i developed my style by just admiring and referencing from things i love !!! those, if it isn't obvious enough, being things like folk art, clothing and textiles across history, manuscripts from all across the world (if you want manuscripts to dig through i have a bunch of links to some stashed here, along with a bunch of other art history resources), aspects of nature like karst formations but also how things in nature are stylized into art by people and how they have over time. i'm a big art history fan so i tend to absorb a lot of information, technical and artistic, about art across history in its many forms, methods, and across peoples. obviously not everyone likes art history so i can't prescribe it as a panacea but a love for how people across time and space have done things is so fascinating to me, from the swirling dots of jōmon figures to the curling leaves of medieval french manuscripts to the movement of haida transformation masks to the shine of byzantine mosaics to the flora of batik to this and that.

i can't tell you to get a special interest in art history, but i can tell you to look at what you love and find out why you love it. and study. and try something wacky. and remember that there is always another branch to grow. godspeed ! :-)

[intyalote]

10 characters meme

tagged by @i-am-just-a-kiddo (a while ago, sorry it took me so long)! 10 characters from things I read/watched this year. anyone who wants to do this, consider yourself tagged by me.

ZHOU YING, Tai Sui ↳ ohhhh my god. fucked up and insane because he’s Seen Too Much (of everything except himself)! hates the world and just wants to see it burn but is tied to it because of his love for a single person! the top two breakdowns I had reading tai sui were both caused by him (if you’ve read it, That moment in the impassable sea & jinping (1) which took me forever to read because I was crying too much to see the words). so, so tragic.

ZHI XIU, Tai Sui ↳ yes I’m doing two tai sui characters fight me I can’t choose between them. no paramount spiritual sense, no way of clarity, no demon eyes, but one (1) rebellious disciple is enough for him to walk his own path with eyes unclouded. when he did That (flower in the mirror) and also That (conclusion) I screamed. the bittersweet joy of how he ends up post-canon is so. ugh. also gets some of the most beautifully moving lines and descriptions in the novel as you watch him grow.

MADI, Black Sails ↳ deserved sooo much better. is literally responsible for every good thing that happens in s3-4 managing the two pathetic men who landed on her island managing a war being the smartest person in every room she was in AND YET she still has to move on when her dreams are ruined because of the character development(?) she herself instigated in the man she loved. I would give her the world. 

SHENG LINGYUAN, Lie Huo Jiao Chou ↳ what’s left after you cut out everything that matters about yourself as a person and not the 人皇? when you were born to be a tool, how can you be anything else? and what about how just when you think you’ve escaped through death, you get thrown into the future you yourself wanted and created but it’s unrecognizable and holds no place for you? I am gently tucking him into bed so that he can rest. he doesn’t really deserve it but that’s ok.

MEDICINE SELLER, Mononoke ↳ mysterious in a way designed to appeal to Me Specifically. the protagonist, but the story isn’t about him, it meanders with him and he gets revealed along the way. very much an asshole but in a fun way? love his manner of speech ただの。薬売り。ですよ。voice acted line of all time. also ‘strict requirements for unleashing power’ is an excellent trope, love the structure of his chase for 形/真/理 in each case.

LI JIANTING, Qiang Jin Jiu ↳ another one who deserved better she is empress of my heart. completely stole the show in the second half of the novel, don’t want to spoil things but the development and consistency of her character from her upbringing to her fate is so well done. look I get that this is cezhou’s novel & also that the world t97 created couldn’t allow it but in another world... she absolutely could have ruled.

MORPHEUS, Sandman ↳ acts tough but has no idea what he’s doing, cares but can’t (or sometimes won’t) do anything about it, feels too much but is afraid to show it… he has it all for me, right down to the horribly complicated relationship with his child. I am so intrigued by him I’m reading comics (which are usually. difficult. for me to follow).

QIU CONGXUE, Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know ↳ not at all pure of heart, very dumb of ass. love how her reaction to accidentally ‘escaping’ the ghost path was to do her best to get rid of her newly acquired flesh. can’t grow brains, can’t teach anyone anything, can’t take over a sect, can be an extreme nuisance, but still has people who are so very fond of her and let her indulge herself.

TAKAHASHI, Koisenu Futari ↳ complete fucking mood. aro loner gathering a family he can care about without compromising who he is, makes good food, chill unless you annoy him. wins most relatable character of the year. pretty much bought the novel purely because I wanted more of his perspective, he means so much to me personally.

LYMOND, Lymond Chronicles ↳ still have only read the first book & a bit of the second but he is SUCH a bastard (complimentary). not an exceptionally bad person in his context, just completely incapable of being nice. good schemer but turns into the saddest and most pathetic surprised pikachu when he gets outplotted and needs to be saved by other people. very weird comparison incoming but he’s like a 1500s scotland cross between lin jingheng and mei changsu.

finally, as a bonus since I cheated a bit with tai sui, have a bond!  do I have anything meaningful to say? no. is he a good doggo? yes!

[kyoaeri]

──★ ˙ ̟ 📁 love you twice ( yjw / 정원 )

jw x f reader , just like cute romance i suppose

the first time you met jungwon should’ve been the last. you were young, so young that you probably shouldn’t remember it now, but it lingers in your mind like a stain you can’t quite wash out.

“you’re so useless! ugh, i knew we should’ve never let a girl play with us.”

you remember tears running down your face, upset and humiliated at your classmate’s words. you had just wanted to play with them, was that so bad? sure, you were a girl, but you were just as good at soccer as they were! despite that, you were obviously at a disadvantage here. they were never going to hear you out in the first place. even so, you stood your ground in front of your classmate, tears threatening to spill over once more while you desperately searched for something to say in retaliation.

“hey, leave her alone. she was doing well, so let’s just get back to the game. picking on people isn’t cool, dude.”

your head whipped around at that, searching for the source of the words. you were torn between being thankful and being annoyed. you didn’t need anyone else to fight your battles for you, and you were about to say just that when your eyes made contact with his. sharp, inquisitive eyes, rosy cheeks, dimples. you knew of yang jungwon, but had never spoken directly to him. and for ten-year-old you, someone like him defending you like that made your heart flutter.

“thanks,” you muttered, unwilling to meet his eyes for a second time. the game continued, but that instance remained on your mind, distracting you from whatever issue you were meant to be focusing on. that should’ve been your warning to stay away from yang jungwon, but of course you didn’t heed it. how could you, when it was him?

the second time you’d even spoken to jungwon, you were both a little older, a little wiser, and a little more mature. you’d been assigned to work together on a biology project, and while you had thought you’d overcome your elementary school crush, your inability to focus on anything besides him proved you wrong. everything he was saying about cells and their parts went into one ear and out the other, because all you could do was focus on his hair, his eyes, the way he was so immersed in whatever topic he was rambling about-

“—yn? you good?”

you couldn’t suppress the heat rushing to your cheeks at that, embarrassed to be caught in your (admittedly obvious) staring.

“yeah, i’m fine! just tired, sorry.”

you’d finished the rest of the project without much difficulty, though you couldn’t keep the disappointment from showing on your face when jungwon left to go home. you’d sighed heavily at the realization that you’d just embarrassed yourself in front of the boy you’d pined over for four years already, but what was more damning was the realization that this “little crush” wasn’t going away.

you were right. even two years later, the person who appeared when you closed your eyes and dreamed bore jungwon’s smile, his eyes, his dimples, his essence. you’d tried things out with other guys, yeah, but none of them sparked your heart alive like jungwon did. jungwon was fireworks, sparkling against the dark palette of the night sky. he was the one you imagined in front of you even as others confessed their love for you. you longed to kiss his lips, to be the one confessing for once in your life, to hold him close without any qualms. even so, when the opportunity finally came, you hesitated to reach out and snatch it.

“who wants to play seven minutes in heaven?” your best friend, ningning, shouted, met with cheers and whoops from various classmates. she was throwing a party to celebrate the end of the school year, which was coming up soon. the room was almost unrecognizable, filled with people and substances you were pretty sure highschoolers shouldn’t have been consuming. your brain, addled from the noise and atmosphere, told you it would be a great idea to write your name down on a little paper slip and hand it in to be put in the mix with everyone else’s. you were no stranger to rejecting others’ advances, but the small chance of being paired up with jungwon spurred you on in your efforts. you’d almost forgotten about the game when ningning began reading out the pairs. your name wasn’t called, and you were beginning to regret your decision to submit yourself. you contemplated leaving, promising to yourself you’d make it up to ningning somehow. you were heading for the door when you heard your name called. wait, what??

“okay, our next pair is . . . yn and jungwon!”

you caught ningning’s eye, astonished. she smirked, motioning to jungwon. you couldn’t meet his eyes, but you headed for the closet anyway. it was just seven minutes, and you two were friends. don’t make it awkward, you repeated to yourself as you walked in numbly. ningning shut the door on you with a wink and you were alone with jungwon.

“yn?”

your close proximity to each other became apparent to you as his breath tickled your ear. you turned to face him, trying to make out his face in the dark.

“hi, jungwon.”

the words came out breathy, your lungs gasping for air in the cramped closet. it all happened so fast, his arm touching yours, and suddenly your fingers were grasping for the back of his head and your lips were meeting, and the fireworks you’d tried so hard to suppress were going off once more. you broke away, gasping for breath once more.

“i’m sorry, jungwon, i-”

he cut you off with another kiss, and your body automatically relaxed at his touch.

“i’ve liked you ever since that day in fifth grade, you know that? you were always too fucking pretty for your own good.”

heat rushed into your cheeks, and you tightened your grip on his hair.

“i could say the same about you, mr. ‘leave her alone.’ did you have to be so charming?”

the smile on your face was apparent in your voice, so jungwon could tell even though you were still in the dark. you went to pull him in for another kiss when you were rudely interrupted by the light of the party outside. you and jungwon instantly sprung apart, leaving only your hands connected. ningning met your eyes and smiled knowingly.

“looks like you two had some fun!” she said, met with some cheering from others that made you flush pink. the other partygoers quickly forgot about it when ningning began reading the next pair, though, so you didn’t worry too much about it.

“wanna get out of here?” jungwon whispered to you, and you nodded, squeezing his hand. you sent a quick goodbye text to ningning and left with jungwon, butterflies glittering in your heart.

and if you came to school the next day with a boyfriend to call your own, well, that was nobody’s business but yours (and ningning’s).

hope this is ok like i kinda suck at writing romance guys !!

[weirdochick56]

Controlling- Michael Gray Imagine

Michael Gray x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language. Light smut. Angst?

Disclaimers: I don’t own any PB characters/plots mentioned. 

Word Count: 5, 626 words

Summary: Michael and Y/n have always hated each other, so it’s no shock that when she finds out he’s been secrety going behind her back and scaring away all of her possible suitors, she loses it on him. Though the situation should ideally end in him stopping such behaviors, it might just do the opposite. Is this the push needed for unwanted feelings to arise? 

A/N; Hi guys I’m baaaaack! Yayyy. I apologize in advance if this messy or just overall bad, but I need to get back on the saddle somehow, right? Anyway, I love u guys so much!

*

You were angry. Correction; you were furious.

So much so, in fact, you could feel your heart racing in its efforts to pump and circulate what felt like a thousand gallons of hot, searing blood throughout your system. You tried to ignore it, but it was impossible to look past the way your whole body was shaking and you were almost entirely sure your skin was hot to the touch.

And the reason behind your heart wrenching aggravation? Well, you hated to say that it came in the shape of a five foot seven, sharply dressed, infuriatingly handsome man named Michael.

And is there anything more utterly infuriating than a devilishly attractive man who is hellbent on destroying your life?

With fists balled tightly at your sides, you march through the crowd of people who were happily sipping on champagne from tall elegant glass flukes and chattering away. Many of them shoot you hard stares as you practically shove everyone from your way, but you’re far too angry to care. 

There was only one man you were looking for and he was only a few feet away from you. 

Ugh. The sight of him, so fucking hot in that suit and smiling like a charming (which admittedly he was) chauvinist, was enough to make your stomach curl with irritation. 

“You snake,” you hiss lowly at Michael as soon as you reach him, not at all caring whether he was talking to Tommy’s esteemed guests or not.

“Excuse me?” 

Abruptly pausing his conversation with the man and woman in front of him, he slowly tilted his head in your direction, his eyebrows raised.

“Y/n,” he breathes once he spots you, dark eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. 

As if suddenly recognizing you, his expression flashes with some unrecognizable emotion and his eyes instantly begin scanning you from head to toe.

He makes no effort to hide the awe from his face at your unusual appearance.

Truth be told, you had never been one to dress up or be flashy, something that was getting gradually more difficult as the Shelby’s moved higher up in society.

In stark contrast to the muddy grounds of small Heath where you’d grown up alongside Finn, the youngest of the Shelby’s, Tommy now lived in a huge estate and was around people of influence and power. Real power.

You had been there to see them rise to the top every step of the way and they were family more than your own family was, but it wasn’t until recently (and thanks to a lot of begging from Polly and Ada) that you had begun to play the part.

All the social chatter and glamour of this new lifestyle was not for you personally. You enjoyed watching form the sidelines and offering your help when needed, even when it was insisted upon that you partake in the more affluent activities of the family. 

It was and had always been your most comfortable role within the Shelby clan in general. Even when it came to their not-so-legal business but especially when it was.

You weren’t too good at simply smiling and looking pretty for others. You had a mouth on you and a fire that burned brighter than a thousand suns. Often such qualities got you in trouble, but frankly never enough that you wished to be any other way.

It was scary enough being constantly under threat for being associated with the Shelbys and the Peaky Blinders without you having to worry about having to get your hands dirty in any of their business, literally. 

It was lonely though. Watching the only people you could depend on and considered family moving on and into the spotlight while you remained on the outside looking in.

All the fancy social gatherings hosted in Tommy’s home and not once did you change your appearance for them, opting to go into guest rooms to read instead. 

Always watching the glitz and glamour from afar, you wondered what it would feel like to actually be in it.

You were practically a Shelby as they had all continuously said throughout the years...so why couldn’t you behave like one?

Which was precisely why you made a choice. Albeit, a quite impulsive, spur-of-the-moment choice, and only for tonight’s party- to be a part of them.

You sported a silky dress, not too loose so that it sagged or too tight that it left nothing to the imagination, but instead a good balance of both so that flowed over your curves alluringly, hugging them subtly. Your back was bare though and it gave for an elegantly suggestive outfit.

Your hair was curled and pinned back and you had opted for minimal eye makeup and a bold red lip, giving you a sophisticated look.

You were in a zone which was far, far away from your comfort zone but thus far you’d only gotten compliments from the Shelby clan and guests alike, so you were growing increasingly more confident.

A few boys had even come up to you to talk and you had found that social chatter wasn’t all that bad and you were actually enjoying your time for a little there...that is, until a very drunk Isaiah had sidled up to you.

“Y/n,” he slurred, clinging onto you.

You turned away from the guy you’d been talking to, Jackson, and frowned at your best friend. “Isaiah what the-“

“You,” he suddenly perked up, growing serious as he pointed a finger directly at Jackson. He stared him down for a few seconds before suddenly bursting into laughter, leaning nearly all his weight on you.

“Isaiah,” you groaned, shoving at him. “What the fuck has gotten into you?”

“Sorry,” you mouthed, smiling at Jackson apologetically.

He seemed beyond annoyed at Isaiah though, and turned to him with a tiny huff. “What’s so funny anyway?”

Isaiah smirked drunkenly. “Oooh nothing,” he sing songed mockingly, staggering slightly as he wagged a finger at you both. “Only that you’re going to have to say goodbye to that pretty face of yours if you don’t get away from her right now.”

Now you were really confused.

“Isaiah, what the blood fuck are you on about?” you demanded, quickly growing frustrated with the drunk.

He turned to you with a cocked brow. “So you haven’t noticed?”

You tilted your head at him, more bewildered than ever before. “What does that even m- Oh, would you just bloody fucking spit it out already?”

He chuckled smugly. “How many guys have talked to you today, Y/n?”

You glanced at Jackson with a tiny frown before turning to Isaiah. “A few,” you snap impatiently, still not understanding where this was going. “Why?”

“And how many have returned from the restroom or the snack table, love?”

You paused at that, thinking hard. Come to think of it...they never returned after that.

Hesitantly you spoke. “None?”

He snapped his fingers jovially. “Exactly! And do you know why that is? Or rather, who?”

“What?” You growled. “Isaiah I swear to fucking everything if you don’t explain yourself right fucking now I’m gonna stick my foot so far up your arse you’ll-“

“It’s Michael!” He said loudly, waving his hands happily. “He scares all your suitors away.”

You reeled back in pure shock, frowning deeply. “Micheal? But why would he-“

“Even me,” he pouted as he cut you off, pointing to himself dramatically. “Me! Oh! And Finn too. Okay so maybe I’ve thought about a threesome once or twice-“

“Woah,” you said but he continued as if you weren’t even there.

“-but I don’t like you like that and neither does Finn. You’re like a sister to us. But Michael,” he laughed, continuing his rant. “He’s made sure to threaten any and every possible suitor within your reach away.”

He turned to Jackson meaningfully. “And he’s done more than good on those threats so I suggest you get away from her right now if you don’t want to wake up with no face.”

And then he’d patted your back and sauntered away.

Ugh. Just thinking of the memory had your blood boiling again.

You fist your hands by your side, trying not to explode right then and there on Michael.

You were so unbelievably angry at him and his audacity to try and control your love life or lack thereof....

So then why was his gaze making you question your newly found confidence and why was the green of his irises making your heart falter in your chest?

What irritated you more was that you couldn’t read him or his gaze as it took you in with slow -almost deliberate- laziness.

It had always been one of your main issues with Michael from the very moment he arrived.

You had seen him grow from a simple young man from a tiny boring town into one of the most electrifyingly violent and beguilingly dark people you’ve ever met and yet...you couldn’t figure him out beyond that.

See, that darkness you’d always seen in him. But other than that, what hid behind that steady watchful gaze and those iridescent green eyes- you’re nervous to admit you haven’t the slightest clue.

His intentions as far as this work went were clear enough, he had a personal agenda and a spark of his own which drove forth his passion for the Shelby company, but when he looked at you, his stare was completely blank-- if not ridiculously smug or amused.

And maybe that was because he didn’t want to expose what he felt towards you (whatever that was) or because there truly was nothing there. The latter of which you tried to ignore the uncomfortable prickles it gave your skin.

As far as your interactions went, you didn’t very much like each other and banter was common between you two but it hadn’t gone farther than that. 

You obviously thought he was attractive but you also thought him infuriating in ways you couldn’t quite explain.

But right now...right now he was eating you up with his gaze. Drinking you in, as if memorizing you. Anyone could see that and it was the first time he’d ever looked at you so...passionately.

It was confusing your senses which not even five minutes ago was dead set on bashing his head against your knee for being a jerk-wad.

You try not to let the way he’s staring at you distract you from why you had heatedly stomped over here to demand answers from him and defensively cross your arms over your chest when you realize they’ve dwelled there a little longer than what was socially acceptable.

With a loud clearing of your throat you practically force his gaze to snap up to yours. Except you’re not expecting their sexy magnetism to hit you as hard as it does and you initially struggle to spit your next words out through clenched teeth.

“Michael,” you enunciate his name pointedly, narrowing your eyes at the small smirk that’s growing on his face. “A word please?”

He turns to the guests, who are watching the exchange with frowns of their own, and smiles that charming smile that made your insides curl in the most irritating of manners.

“I’m sorry to have to cut this short Mr. and Mrs. Smith but I do hope you enjoy the entertainment and if you need anything just let any of the maids know and I’m sure they’ll be happy to help. Excuse me.”

He turns to approach you with a tiny smirk and you’ve never wanted to punch someone harder. What he says next doesn’t help either.

“See? I knew you had a good figure hidden away somewhere in there.” 

It was almost funny how fast he could switch up his personality to fit the situation. Almost.

You don’t respond, instead opting to take his sleeve firmly in your grasp and without a single word begin to angrily stomp towards the large spiraling staircase and away from the party, dragging him along. 

You’re half-shocked he doesn’t protest at all as you grab the first door you find (which just so happens to be a dark supply closet where all the cleaning products are kept) pull it open and aggressively pull him in, slamming it shut behind you.

“Bit aggressive, are we, love?” He chuckles airily, but that laughter dies once you turn on the light and he’s face to face with your intense glare.

And if looks could kill...

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You growl instantly. 

Micheal tilts his head, frowning deeply. “I don’t understand-“

“Oh please, spare me the innocent act Micheal. I know what you’ve been up to,” you growl, poking his chest with your index finger.

“Love, I’m “up to” a lot of things, you’re gonna have to be a little more specific-“

SLAP.

You wish you could say you regretted doing that when your hand started stinging or when Michaels head was snapped to the side with the force of your attack or even when he raised a hand and gently touched his cheek where your hand was now firmly printed on his skin in bright red, but it wasn’t until he’d slowly turned to you that your stomach truly dropped.

His pretty green eyes flare with absolute wrath in that seemingly bottomless darkness and for a split second you’re sure you’re gonna piss yourself because pissed Michael is scary as all hell but then you remember that it was well deserved.

Still...

His breathing was labored and erractic, as if he’d ran miles. The tense silence otherwise was defeaning and suffocating and made even more so by the enclosed space where you found yourselves. 

It was hard not to be aware of just how close to each other you stood, chests barely brushing, breaths, all hot and labored mingling, eyes searching each other discreetly.

His scent was intoxicatingly masculine- a hint of expensive cologne, hair wax , cigarette and shaving cream.

He suddenly grips your wrist in his hand, snatching it from your sides, his fingertips brushing lightly against your hip and sending shocks through you, and with a terrifyingly calm expression on his annoyingly perfect face, he squeezes firmly on it and stares you directly in the eyes.

You strugled to swallow a strangled gasp. 

He growls. “Listen, Y/n, I don’t know why the bloody fuck you’re pissed, but I’m warning you; if you ever touch me like that again I’m going to-“

“To what?” You spit despite every blaring red alarm in you warning you not to push him farther than you already had, scoffing out a dry laugh and standing even closer to him. “You’re going to hit me?” You tilt your head innocently up at him, batting your lashes.

He doesn’t respond and you feel him breathing heavily from his nose, his nostrils flaring with anger as if he was holding back from doing something he’d regret later.

His sharp jaw is clenched so tightly, you’re not sure if he still has teeth from how hard they’re grinding together. Was it wrong of you to find the flare in his eyes and the utterly masculine outlines of his angry expression (all furrowed brows, sharp jaw, flared nostrils) extremely attractive? 

“Y/n,” he warns in a low growl and shivers roll up and down your body.

The innocent smile slips off your face as you angrily snatch your wrist from his grasp and get even more in his face, so close his nose is nearly brushing against yours, and his lips are but a breath from your own.

“C’mon, Michael,” you taunt. “Aren’t you going to hit me back? Cut me just like you have every man that’s ever gotten close to me?”

Shock and something like hunger or perhaps lust flashes across his face momentarily before disappearing just as fast as it appeared. Finally, he takes a tiny step away, and parts his pouty lips to speak.

“Oh. So you found out about that.”

You gasp indignantly. “Yes I did! Is that-“ you swallow harshly. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?!”

He shrugs, eyeing you with nonchalance. “Well what do you expect me to do? Deny it? I bet it was Finn who blabbed, the fucker,” he grumbles grumpily to himself.

You gape at him. “Actually, it wasn’t but that’s not the point here,” you breathe incredulously, face red with absolute anger and disbelief at his audacity to look so calm at a moment like this.

Michael presses his lips together tightly, tilting his head slightly. “He was drunk wasn’t he? Isaiah, I mean. Always yapping away when he’s drunk.” 

You gape at how unbothered he seems. “Can we focus on the issue at hand? You?! Messing with my life? First off, who gave you the fucking right to-“

“I don’t need anyone’s permission,” he cuts you off breezily, gazing at you with an undecipherable emotion. An ominous grin blossoms on his face and he slowly raises a hand, gently trailing it up your arm, over your mostly bare shoulder and up the curve of your neck, eyes pinning yours down all the while.

Instantly stiffening up, you feel you lips parting in delight as you choke back a soft gasp. Every instinct in your mind and body was aching for you to simply melt into his touch, but somehow hold yourself together enough to be able to stare directly back at him, standing your ground firmly. 

You realize you have nothing to say to that, and are shocked into silence. 

Michael’s face is perfect, you come to realize as your heart flutters aggressively in your chest. Especially in this lighting, the dimly lit room outlining every single strong line of his face almost menacingly and giving his gorgeous pale green eyes a strange and singular light that had your stomach clenching like it never had before.

He speaks, softly this time- raspier, his voice like rocky gravel in the sexiest way and his big warm hand wraps firmly around your face, cupping your jaw and angling your face upwards so that the entirety of your eyes were exposed to him. 

“I do what I want when I want to. And if what I want to do is keep every single fucker in England away from you then so be it,” he spits huskily.

This causes the molten lava in your stomach to swish back and forth, igniting the fire inside you again. Who did he think he was? 

Oh, never mind, you knew exaclty who he thought he was.

A Shelby. A Peaky Blinder. 

And no one fucks with either.

But why he’d decided you were the one he was going to direct his gangster efforts towards, you didn’t know. 

Perhaps that is what angered you most; that he thought of you as some thing he could just control with either violence or money like he did everything else in his life. You weren’t a push-over, you weren’t his and you certainly weren’t one of his paid whores.  

Your eyes widen and blink up at him furiously. “Why you- entitled, ass kissing, son of a b-“

“Watch,” he growls, tightening his hold on your jaw and blowing his minty whiskey-induced breath in your face. “-your pretty little mouth.” 

He pauses for a split-second, breathing in deeply before continuing in a barely contained but calmer manner.

You snap your mouth close when you remember who his mother is and how much you adore and admire her.

Taking a deep calming breath, you lick your lips in frustration. “No one controls me, Michael. And especially not you,” you snarl lowly. 

His eyes are blaring with anger and frustration as he stares at your lips longingly, causing an outbreak of goosebumps all over your skin- which was now flushed for reasons you were too proud to admit were other than anger. 

This wasn’t an ideal situation whatsoever: you felt overheated and frustrated- Micheal’s scent was driving you absolutely nuts, overwhelming all your senses and he looked like he was ready to absolutely devour you. 

Your heart is thumping hard against your ribcage when you stare up at him, your sharp edges softening only a little at how troubled he looked all of a sudden. 

Conflicted, even. But...why? 

Something in you shifts, and you anger cools off a little bit, expression relaxing.

Michael seems to catch this judging by the way he lifts a brow, but he makes no effort to comment on it until you open your mouth.

You sigh lightly, trying to keep your voice soft as you speak. “Michael-” 

“You seemed so fucking angry just a little while ago,” he cuts you off huskily, his thumb now softly gliding over your lip. “What happened?”

You furrow your brows, scoffing lightly at him. “I’m just confused.” 

“About what?” His eyes moving slowly from your lips to your eyes. 

“About why you’re doing it,” you breathe. 

He smiles almost sadly at that, tugging at your lip lightly, eyes darkneing more and more with each passing second as he traces all the small cracks and crevices of your mouth. “Why do you think I’m doing it, love?” 

You swallow thickly, ignoring the tight clenching in your stomach at the thought that flashes in your mind in response to his question. 

“Why do you sound like you’re mocking me?” Yoy whisper carefully in response.

You can’t help that your voice has gotten gradually lower, and your breathing more erratic asMichael’s ruggedly handsome face has gotten closer and closer. 

“I’m not,” he rasps lowly, long lashes brushing against his cheeks as he stares hungrily at your mouth. “I just want to hear you say it.” 

Your breath hitches when his other hand, which was resting by his side previously, grips the other side of your jaw, threading his long warm fingers through your pinned up hair and releasing it from where it rested elegantly on the nape of your neck. 

“I always liked your hair better this way,” he comments in a husky whisper, bunching your strands in his big hand and tugging at them gently. “Wild and free. Like you.” 

Your lips part at that and your head snaps up to him. “Y-you think I’m wild?” 

He smiles knowingly at that, laughing in a sexy low manner. “Aren’t you? You’re easily the most violent, opinionated, angry, impulsive woman I’ve ever met in my entire fucking life.” 

You huff sassily at that. “And that’s a fucking problem, why, again? You wish the whores that sat on that lap of yours had half the wits I have about me.” You scoff. “Hell, you wish you had half the balls I did.” 

He smirks. “That’s not what I meant, it just makes you that much more beautiful. Especially tonight. And you’re right; I’ve yet to meet anyone like you.” His lids drop halfway, his hands tugging your body even closer to his, tilting his head so his lips were brushing with a feather-like touch on your ear. “Maybe that’s why I’m so bloody infatuated with you,” he whispers hotly.

“God,” he growls lowly in your ear. “You look so fucking beautiful tonight. That dress was made for you. And your lips are so bloody pretty in that red.” 

His hand falls from your jaw, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before gently slipping down the nape of your neck and scraping his short nails gently down your naked back. 

You bite your lip, looking into his pleadingly. Every nerve in your body was trembling, throbbing and your hands gripped his broad shoulders desperately, wanting him to do something to ease the overwhelming sensations in your body. 

“Micheal,” you practically whimper, unable to handle the way his touch felt on your scorching hot skin. “Stop.”

In response to your pleads, he gently nibbles on your earlobe. “Say it.”

Your eyes snap shut and the throbbing between your legs intensifies when his hand trails over your hip, thumb grazing your lower stomach. It instinctively clenches itself away from his touch and he chuckles airily against your ear at the sudden jerk. 

“You’re so sensitive,” he points out huskily, pressing a kiss on your neck. 

You inhale sharply, your grip on the fabric of his expensive dinner jacket tightening. “Fuck Michael, what do you want me to say?” you groan softly.

He rubs his nose teasingly against your neck and you tremble, biting your lip to keep from letting out a moan, hard. 

“Say what we both know. That all that angry banter, all those heated glares, all of it...it was a defense mechanism. To hide what we felt,” he breathes, slowly dragging his face back so he could stare into your eyes. 

“I didn’t feel anything,” you breathe, swallowing past the lump in your throat. 

Lie. You’ve always felt something for him, but what can you say? Denial keeps you safe.

“Liar,” he rasps before aggressively delving down and claiming your mouth.

You’re startled for only a split second in which you release a soft gasp until his mouth, before desire floods you and you’re kissing him back just as hard.

His lips are the perfect balance of soft and rough as they kiss you hungrily, tugging, pulling, claiming...his tongue swipes gently over your lips, asking to be let in and you throb to life, gently parting to let the warm wet muscles slip in.

He growls softly, crushing his mouth harder against yours and intertwining his tongue with yours in a battle for dominance.

His fingers are digging firmly into your face and you can taste the alcohol in his mouth, leaving you thirstier for more.

You melt into him, into his harsh but gente touch, as heat floods every part of your body. You grip the fabric of his lapels in your tight fists then frantically run your fingers up into his hair tugging at them in desperation for more of him.

His scent is all over you now, enveloping you and his mouth is too soft and warm to be anything short of perfection, the emotions, the sensations as he kisses you like he’d never get a chance to again, his hands gripping your face— they become too much and you have to push him away.

He stumbles back when you push at his sturdy chest but it’s more out of pure shock than your force, you’re sure. You’re way smaller than him.

His eyes are dark now, both your chests heaving as you stare at eachother.

“Why’d you stop, love?” He rasps, breathless- desperately. 

His lips are parted and your red lipstick has spread all over his mouth and you want kiss him again, so bad, but your heart is welling up in your chest and it’s scaring you so much.

You never thought you’d ever have to face those feelings that Michael brought up in you, all those complex, jumbled thoughts you had no control over...it was too much. 

“I’m just...” your swallow, shaking your head. “Never mind let’s just forget this happened okay?” You rush out breathlessly, not looking up at him at all as you squeeze past him and leave, heart heavy.

He doesn’t make an effort to follow after you and you don’t expect him to and yet...a part of you is still disappointed.

*

Please don’t look at me. Please don’t look at me. Please don’t look at me. 

It was all you could think as you stand in the corner of the room, watching the Shelbys discuss one of their new plans for one of their new problems, nothing new.

Micheal stood, just as luck would have it, right across from you and though you’d been avoiding him all week, this was unavoidable. 

You’d been careful to keep your tense gaze trailed on either one of the other Shelbys or the floor, completely lost in your own thoughts. Michael though, he openly stared at you through the meeting and honestly it was getting annoying

That is, until Ada says your name, effectively pulling you back into the present conversation. You only catch the last part of the sentence:

“...Y/n can.”

You look up at that instantly, frowning. 

“What?”

At the same exact time, Micheal growls. “Absolutely fucking not.”

Michael gazes breifly in your direction and your frown deepens. 

“What is going on?”

Ada raises an amused brow at Michael to which he scoffs at, before turning to you. 

“Tommy needs someone to integrate into a club in London.” 

“And by integrate you mean...” You trail off, tilting your head to the side in wonder.

“You’re gonna have to sleep with the owner,” Michael bitterly chides in, jaw clenched tightly.

Tommy sighs with slight annoyance when you raise an indignant brow at him. “Not exactly. You might have to flirt a tad or-”

“Oh bullshit, Tommy,” Michael instantly spits, glaring fiercely at Tommy. “She’s going to have to give the bloke a bloody blowjob minimum. And that’s if he doesn’t take her back to his bachelor pad first.”

The entire room instantly falls silent with shock at Michaels little outburst.

Arthur takes a menacing step towards his cousin to which Polly instantly makes a move as well, but Tommy stops them, holding up a hand.

He calmly turns to a raging Michael and presses his lips together. Not showing emotion but it was still enough for you to know how this would end.

“How about I choose what I get to do?” You interrupt loudly.

Micheal snaps his furious gaze toward you. “Y/n, no.”

You scoff at his audacity, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “And who the fuck gave you permission to order me around?”

Micheal clenched his jaw at you snarky remark and rounds the table in the matter of split second, using his long legs to his advantage until he was standing g right in front of you. Or well, towering over you.

You would’ve laughed under any other circumstance at his expression- flared nostrils, clenched jaw, glaring dark green eyes.

He stares at you hard and in his gaze you can read his warning clear as day; this isn’t the time to be rebellious.

“Y/n.”

“Tommy..” You lift your chin defiantly, staring right into those pretty eyes as you speak to Tommy, unwavering.

If he was going to be this way you had no problem, but the days of him controlling you and your emotions were over.

“I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Tommy asks. “You’re sure?”

Finally detaching your gaze from Michael, you sigh softly at him. “Do we have any other choice?”

Seeing you’ve made up your mind is enough to send Michael into a rage and before you know it, he’s storming out of the room.

A pant of guilt hits you as he leaves and you deflate after a few seconds of trying to fight it.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, running out after Michael.

*

When you find him, Michael is sitting in a far corner, which was dimly lit, smoking.

You’re momentarily transfixed by the way he inhaled the smoke, closing his eyes, then slowly opens them, releasing the puff of smoke sexily.

His pale green eyes stare at you as you slowly approach him, sitting in front of him.

“You’re not doing it,” is all he says.

You roll your eyes. “Michael for fuck’s sake-“

“No listen to me,” he cuts you off gruffly. “I’ve got it handled. You won’t have to lift a finger.”

You can see he’s not letting it go. “Fine.”

He raises a brow, genuinely shocked. “Really?”

You roll your eyes. “Did I stutter? There’s no point in fighting it, you’ll find a way around anything I do.” You sigh. 

He seems to contemplate the words as he takes another drag before smirking in self-content.

“You’re right, love.”

“Of course I am,” you huff, absentmindedly staring at your nails.

“So why’d you run off last week?” he suddenly and casually lets out. 

Your head snaps up at that. “What?” You breathe.

He laughs dryly, shaking his head at you as he drags from the cigarette one last time before putting it out on the ashtray before him. 

His eyes find yours. “You heard me. You feel the same I know it. So why can’t you just admit it to yourself, Y/n?”

“Because,” you sputter. “You’re impulsive and you’re controlling and-“

“And?” He pushes.

“And you make me bloody crazy!” You blurt. “You’re the exact opposite of what I should want in a man...yet here I am.” You sigh, looking away from him out of pure embarrassment at your little outburst.

“Oh.” And then he’s laughing.

You gasp at him indignantly, reching over the table and smacking him on the arm. “You utter asshole,” you snap.

He bites his lip to keep from laughing and stares at you steadily.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers seriously and it’s enough to make you stop.

Your heart stars racing and you just stare at one another.

His smile slowly slips off his face and is replaced by an expression of hunger that has your toes curling. He wastes no time practically running over to you and leaning down to claim your mouth again.

You meet him halfway, tilting your head to give him more access.

And then there you both are, hungrily clawing at each other.

Your body aches for him, for more of him, all of him and you’re falling apart at the seams because of it.

Smalls whimpers and moans escape you as his frantic yet hot touch seeks out any exposed skin you have right now.

He’s growling softly in your ear and you’re not sure you’ll make it through tonight.

“Michael,” you pant softly.

He groans, deflating slightly. “Don’t tell me you’re still fighting-“

You smirk at him, curling your finger seductively under his chin and gently raising it towards you. “My house. Now.”

He instantly grins.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

— — —

I hope you enjoyed!!

I wanted to add smut but idk I wasn’t feeling up to it. :(

A special thanks to: 

@lilypalmer1987

@jessikared97

@sammykb1994 

@ladyofletters67​

@mogaruke​

[artnigth]

Migraines Part 2

i made it!! Part 3 tomorrow BABY!! (probably) 

MIGRAINES PART 2: Raz was walking all the way back to the Questionable Area, more specifically his family’s camp in the campgrounds. It had been a long day, he agreed to cover Gisu’s afternoon shift since she apparently had an “appointment” or something. Norma and Lizzie kept pestering him to see if Gisu actually had a date of sorts, but he knew as much as they did on that topic so that fun little conversation went nowhere. He was finally able to go home and take a nap, he was ten after all (and very tired). “RAZPUTIN!” A scream coming from above breaking his line of thought. Raising his gaze, Raz saw just as Ford Cruller flew to the spot in front of him. The senior Psyconaut might have been very old, but after Raz had fixed his mind it seemed that the senior was back in his prime. “Your brother needs help.”- the tone of Cruller's voice was concerned but not surprised, neither was Raz. “What are you talking about?” “Your brother is lost in the forest and- “QUEEPIE GOT LOST IN THE FORGETFUL FOREST?!” “Your other brother Razputin. Dion, was it? He got lost in the forest and is having a Psychic overload.”- Ford’s tone was calm but a little tired. “Dion? Having a Psychic overload? No offense agent Cruller but Dion isn’t a Psychic. But I do believe he could have gotten lost in the forgetful forest. Let’s go tell my family to go and search for him.” Both of the Psychonauts ran all the way to the Aquato camp, encountering Agustus at the entrance. “Dad! Dion got lost on the Forgetful Forest, we need to go look for him!”- Raz was tired, his tone was halfhearted and kind of over the whole situation. Agustus’ eyes were wide, he stepped back a little at the sight of Ford Cruller. Ford stayed back for Agustus’ sake, he was clearly not over what had happened and Ford couldn’t blame him at all. “How did Dion get lost in the woods?”- Agustus decided to ignore Ford’s presence focusing on his middle son and the dilemma that had been put into focus. “So that’s where that boy is… His friend came here a couple of hours ago and both her, Frazie and your mother have been looking for him since.”- Agustus sounded tense, but neither of the Psychonauts minded. “Friend? Dion has friends?”- Raz was a little surprised but not too much. “Yeah, that was Frazie’s reaction as well. Let me call them, I’m pretty sure they’re gonna be happy to finally find out where he is.” . “HE WHAT?!”- Donatella did NOT sound happy about finding out where her oldest son had been all this time, scaring her children and husband even if just a little. Frazie, Donatella, Raz, Agustus, and Ford were now standing at the entrance of the Forgetful Forest, with Dion’s “friend” not being there yet. “UNBELIEVABLE. I THOUGHT WE HAD TAUGHT THAT BOY BETTER THAN TO GO INTO THE WOODS ALONE! IF YOU FOUND HIM WHY DIDN’T YOU DRAG HIM BACK, FORD?!”- Donatella kept rambling for a while her temper getting worse with each word. “That’s what I’m trying to explain, Dion seems to be having some sort of Psychic overload. His abilities being so overwhelming to his mind that he can’t control what he does. I had similar experiences when I was a young Psychic, everything was to much to deal with.”- Ford was still standing at a distance from the family, his voice calm but still concerned. “FRAZIE!! DID YOU FIND HIM?!”- a voice was heard from high into the sky. A figure suddenly falling from the sky on a skateboard and landing between Ford and the Aquatos. It was Gisu on top of her skateboard, who stepped off to be at the same level as everyone else. “Gisu?! Aren’t you supposed to be at an appointment??”- Razputin sounded ofended and blindsided. “Appoinment? I never said that.”- Gisu was clearly confused on that topic. “Adam said you had an appointment and that he needed someone to cover your shift, were you here all the time?” “Yeah… I just told Adam I was leaving early, I never said anything about an appointment.” “But… But… You know what, nevermind.”- Raz sounded defeated, Norma and Lizzie were right, and he hated to admit it. And a possible date with his brother out of all people, ugh. “So… did you found Dion, it’s been hours…” “Agent Ford did, Dion’s apparently having a psychic overload in the forest. So we are going to start a search party into the forest.”- Frazie’s tone was her typical sarcastic annoyance but concern was still heard as a shadow in her voice. “Ok, I’ll go high to try and spot him from above.”- Gisu sounded a little desperate to find Dion clearly concerned. But she was still her determined and confident self. She stepped on her skateboard and suddenly she was gone, flying into the sky. The rest of the Aquatos, and Ford separated into the forest to look for Dion. Raz and Ford went north, meanwhile, Donatella and Agustus went east, Frazie stayed back to look after the kids and just in case Dion found a way back to the camp. . . . . .

Gisu was hovering above the Forgetful Forest scanning the area below as well as she could. She was looking for that dorky acrobat that she had gotten to know for the past two months, wondering how could he had managed to hide this type of issue long enough to have such a breakdown. Throwing agent Ford from the middle of the woods all the way to the campgrounds wasn’t a small action, levitating someone that far was impressive for someone who has repressed their powers for as long as Dion has. Her thoughts were interrupted when she got close to losing her balance and falling. A force trying to push her away from an exact spot in the forest, a small clear in the forest where there was a boulder. Trees were being pushed so hard away from that spot that some were being uprooted from the ground. Carefully Gisu did her best to go as close as she could in her skateboard, eventually she had to descend to the ground since she couldn’t move forward anymore. Gisu moved forward slowly, every step felt like if she was pushing a boulder that was getting heavier and heavier with each step. By the time Gisu had gotten to the boundaries of the clear, she had to hold on to a tree or else she would have been thrown away. Looking at the boulder she could see a familiar figure sitting in front of it, with his knees covering his face and his hair being an unrecognizable mess. There was Dion, shaking and sobbing in front of that boulder. Gisu was stunned. What happened to him?! Is he okay?! “Dion?!”- Gisu’s voice echoed through clear, her tone concerned. “GO AWAY!”- Dion’s voice roared into Gisu’s ears, almost deafening the girl. “You need to calm down, you’re destroying the forest!” “GISU YOU NEED TO LEAVE, I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU!”- misery emanated from the boy, in all of his seventeen years of life nothing like this had happened to him. He was terrified of himself and very much lost in his own despair. Gisu stabbed the ground with her skateboard, propelling herself forward and using said skateboard as a cane in order to get the closest she could to him.  Using her own telepathy she tried her best to counter the force of Dion’s own psychic energy. The closer she got, the stronger Dion’s energy became, it was crazy and she didn’t know how to handle it. “GISU LEAVE!” She kept walking onward taking no mind of Dion’s words, just a few more steps and she would reach him, but it felt as if he were miles away. “GISU, STOP!” Her strength wavered, all of his force suddenly focused on her alone. His mind was tormented by screams, guilt invaded his body. HE had thrown Ford Cruller into the sky. HE levitated an old man and threw him to oblivion. HE had killed Ford Cruller, all because of… because… “DION PLEASE LET ME HELP! I’VE SEEN THIS HAPPEN A MILLION TIMES BEFORE. YOU JUST NEED TO CALM DOWN AND BREATH!”- Her cries resonated through the clear, her skateboard started to crack under pressure, she needed to act as fast as she could. She increased the energy she was putting into protecting herself and she kept moving forward. Dion felt hopeless, he needed to get Gisu away or he would hurt her like he hurt Ford. “GISU, PLEASE I DON’T WANT TO HURT YOU TOO!” The whispers in his mind were long gone, replaced by screams of fury, guilt and fear. This time he knew all those voices were just him. HE was tormenting himself for what he had done, screaming into his mind until he broke and finally exploded. HE thought it was fair, he deserved to end like this. Not just for what he did to Ford but for how he treated Raz, how he annoyed Gisu with his stupid questions about psychics, how he treated the people around him, how he was bound to explode and no one, not even himself, could stop it from happening. But at least he would make sure to not take anyone down with him. Suddenly a soft sensation was felt on his shoulders, like a thin blanket. Dion looked up from his knees and there she was. Gisu holding on to her skateboard, her knuckles white from the effort. Her hair waving as if a storm was hitting her directly on her face. A soft smirk planted on her face. Her scarf missing from her shoulders and gently placed on his. Tears began to run down from his eyes, all the way to his chin. The pressure stopped, the screams wavered turning back into whispers and the world finally stopped spinning. Gisu took his hands and gently lifted them both to stand. Her hands were rough and cold from all of her mechanical projects with Otto, but for Dion they felt like a safe place, something he hadn’t felt from anyone ever since he was a child. “Let’s go back to the campgrounds your family is looking for you and it's getting dark.”- her voice was soft, a hint of relief on her tone. Dion nodded. They started walking out of the clear and reentering the forest. They had a long way back and Gisu knew it was better to hold her breath since the Aquato family were definitely going to have a rough night. END OF PART 2.

PART 1:

[danny-chase]

How about Starfire’s portrayal in John’s’ Titans and Winick’s Outsiders? I heard she was more…dour and melancholic compared to her bright and passionate self in NTT. Is there some truth to this? Also, similarities between 2003/Outside Kory to her Outlaws version (if we take out the tasteless fanservice part from the latter)?

I haven't read Outsiders 2003 in a minute (although i did just reread the crossover issues). I've been reading Teen Titans 2003 and so far she's like hardly a focus and when she is she definitely comes off as more serious because Geoff Johns is allergic to fun - like i'm not kidding literally every single character in his comic is like "ugh. i'm a teenager and my life is so hard" when their issues are like: Cassie has a crush on Kon or smth, Kon is literally just spouting eugenics nonsense against himself, Tim is like omg i have to lie to my dad can you imagine anything worse (of course, his dad dies like 20-25 issues in and then he's like oh i have real problems now), and Bart is just unrecognizable - like he's fine for a new character he's just not him. With Kory, they have her starting a fight with Diana for drama and that was kinda stupid tbh (like Kory was in the right in terms of the argument but there was very little need to escalate things they really could have just talked things out). Mostly she's kind of just... in the background. They show her gardening once and she's like this helps me learn patience and i'm like it's sweet she has a couple plants from Tamaran but like. cool, but there's not really any deep exploration going on here. Idk if I could make comparisons to Outlaws Kory because Outlaws Kory was pretty much only there to be eye candy (like it felt like her main reason for being there, and i don't think you can compare her character there without acknowledging that - like she had an arc on Tamaran with Blackfire but like lobdell's plots are incomprehensible and i think he just wanted an excuse to put her in tight fitting pants). Like she's still there to be eye candy in Teen Titans 2003, but they don't do the weird amnesia stuff and have her constantly posing in compromising positions which... that at least is nice. Personality wise... idk??? I haven't read outlaws in a while but she's less willing to kill and is holding back more in the 2003 era of comics. I'd say she has more of a temper in the 2003 era of things, which has been present since NTT it's just the only character trait that Devin and henceforth Geoff Johns latched onto when writing her. The hard thing with Kory is that NTT was her best writing in terms of fleshing her out as a character and even then she's still being used for fanservice, and pretty much every other version has been more and more used for tasteless fanservice and taken away more and more of the complexity of her character and her personality has slowly become more synonymous with the toon version in recent years. i can't even just blame it on her being a background character because when they gave her a solo it was the worst thing that i've ever read... i just like... it sucks so much

[dontcallmecarrie]

an idea I had on my commute, because this trope is a personal favorite:

Justin Hammer blinked the stars out of their eyes, not even bothering to move before they got their bearings because last thing they needed was to get motion sickness on top of whatever had been in that weird laser gun Ivan and Victor had been messing with went off.

Ugh. They’d told Ivan to secure his projects better, told them someone’d end up in the hospital, why did nobody listen to them?!

Well. 

At least Winter’d tear them a new one, they could count on that much. If only because they were his meal ticket, but still.

Justin cautiously tried to sit up, and now that the ringing in their ears was going down they caught the last few snatches of whatever the people around them had been saying. 

Because there was now a crowd now, apparently. Joy.

“—ell is going on here, how did he even get here?”

“—rgy readings are all wrong, this makes no sense—”

“—plain to me how a civilian got into one of the most secured locations this side of the Mississippi? Anyone?”

“—ot to be kidding me,” a familiar voice said, “how did Hammer of all people get here? Oh, hey, he’s alive. Hey, Hammer? How’d you get out of Seagate?”

One of these things was not like the others. 

Not that Justin knew what the hell was going on, not when they’d been in a safehouse not two minutes ago, but...this was the first time in their life they’d heard that note of derision in Tony’s voice. 

Aimed at them, anyway, because goodness knew how many rants about Howard they’d talked him through after the accident. 

“Anyone get the number of that truck?” Justin asked with a groan, and didn’t even have to pretend to be confused by the truly impressive number of guns pointed his way as he sat up. “Hey, easy there, when’s the last time you got certified to carry with that type of grip?”

The looks Justin got were...less than welcoming. 

“How’d you get out of Seagate?” Director Fury said more than asked, and just like that, Justin knew what that gun had done, even before an agent looked over with a frown after tapping away at their tablet.

“Sir? Justin Hammer’s still in custody.”

Winter had better be kicking everyone’s ass for this, this was not what they’d signed up for when they’d stopped by with takeout.

.

aka NHDD!Justin crash-lands the MCU, and it goes about as well as expected.

...but to be honest? I’ve been playing with several permuations of this, just can’t decide which would be the most fun to mess with because, I mean, here’s some of the others:

NHDD!Avengers meet canon, wonder wtf is up with this ticking time bomb of a team and canon!Tony’s almost unrecognizable because they’re used to a Tony with very clear boundaries and may not be as heroic, but he’s theirs and seeing a version of him who’s been through the wringer is. Something not great. 

50/50 odds on who picks a fight, because NH!Tony will push back if someone tries to start something, but NH!Steve has even less chill than canon because he’s caught up in a goddamn love dodecahedron and anyone looking at his team wrong gets to deal with all the pent-up stress that entails.

NHDD!Justin meets canon [see above]. Rocky start due to obvious reasons, while Cabal’s scrambling to figure out a way to get them back, Justin immediately latches onto canon!Tony and they may not be a therapist, but tbh they’re pretty damn close sometimes. 

canon!Tony gets a concentrated dose of All the Feels™, feat. “your feelings are valid” and “you are not alone, asking for help isn’t being a burden” and “even if other people think poorly of you, that’s on them, you owe them nothing” and Tony’s very, very sad to see him go.

...this could also be pretty painful for canon!Justin, for reasons seen in this next scenario:

canon!Justin meets NHDD. Cue All The Self-Worth Issues. Because I tried to hint at it in NHDD, but long story short, canon!Justin was kinda set up for failure, between his poor excuses for parents, terrible role models, and the whole “growing up constantly compared to Tony Stark” thing is just asking for a major inferiority complex somewhere in here. So you take this Justin, and present him a world that could be summed up as, “I’m you, but better”? Who has everything he ever wanted, was taken seriously and treated with respect? He’s not going to have a good time.

irony is, it’s absolutely not his fault, either: NHDD!Justin is different not because of his circumstances, but because they’ve got echoes of a past life [...even if they don’t remember the specifics anymore].

on the flipside, the NHDD crew would get a better idea of just how unusual their Justin is, and their secret might get discovered somewhere in this

Cabal meets canon. Cue explosions, and a lot of dark hilarity because this League of Supposed-to-be-Evil-but-mostly-Just-Vibing has way better teamwork than the elite team of superheroes assembled to protect the Earth.

Victor’s probably the snarkiest here, once the shock of “holy shit I knew I hadn’t expected to survive Latveria’s civil war but is this what would’ve happened to my homeland? thanks I hate it” wears off.

NH!Bucky gives absolutely no fucks about shit going down anymore, splits his time between hunting down HYDRA [which seems to be even more of a problem in this hellscape, ugh] and avoiding this universe’s Steve Rogers because self-care is a thing and he has no idea what this universe’s Bucky is up to but he knows he’s probably in not as great a place as he was. 

[intheticklecloset]

Just For a Minute (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

At this point I’m pretty sure I’ve read every MHA tickle fic there is on Tumblr. I LOVE this anime so freaking much; it’s become an obsession at this point. Help me. XD’

Note: This fic is not part of the 12 Days of Ficmas.

Shoutout to the Anon who wanted to see lee Bakugou and ler Kirishima! Your request didn’t match the criteria I set up for the 12 Days fics (and I had already written this before your ask came in), but I see you! :D

~

Bakugou grunted when Kirishima nudged his side. To his credit, he didn’t flinch, but his whole body tensed, and the redhead noticed.

Kiri looked at him sideways. “Hey, man.” A smirk appeared. “You ticklish?”

Bakugou said nothing at first; only sat very still and appeared as if he were concentrating on something. Then he muttered under his breath, “I don’t like it. So don’t even think about it.”

Surprised that he hadn’t outright denied it, Kiri’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa, really? No way!”

“Don’t get excited, idiot,” Bakugou growled, finally turning to glare at his friend. “I said I don’t like it.”

Kiri nudged Bakugou’s shoulder this time. “Come on, dude. We never hear you laugh.”

“I laugh all the time, moron.”

“I mean really laugh. None of that evil I’m-going-to-destroy-the-world nonsense.”

“Forget it.”

Kirishima looked across to Kaminari, and the two exchanged a brief nod. Bakugou was on his feet in an instant, but both boys tackled him right back onto the couch.

“Get off!” Bakugou yelled, sounding as angry as ever. He pushed at both of them, managing to succeed in getting Kaminari off him while Kirishima merely hardened his body so he was immovable and pushed the blonde down to the floor. Bakugou growled and sparks began to appear in his palms, but Kiri stopped him.

“Ah-ah, Bakugou! You can’t do that; you’ll blow up the whole living room and get in trouble with Mr. Aizawa.”

Bakugou growled, still struggling. “I said I don’t like it! Let me go!”

“Come onnn,” Kiri whined. “Just for a minute.”

“No!”

Kaminari reappeared. “Here, you pin him down with your quirk. I’ll do the rest.”

“Idiots! Let me go!” Bakugou shouted, fighting every step of the way as Kiri climbed off of him to reposition himself behind the blonde’s head, bringing his arms up and pinning them down firmly while Kaminari straddled their explosive friend. “Wait!”

Then Bakugou was biting down hard on his lip, using every ounce of strength he had to keep himself in control. Kaminari’s fingers skittered all over his ribs and stomach, forcing him to twitch and struggle to get away, but it was useless.

“N-No, this is—” Bakugou ground out, every word sounding like it pained him to speak it. A single bark of laughter escaped him before he regained control. “This is harassment! Get off, you idiots!”

“Just let it out, Bakugou. You know you want to~” Teased Kiri from behind him, but his words only made the blonde angrier.

“I do not! Dang it, let me go!”

Then Kaminari found a spot – right at the top of his ribs, beneath his underarms – and Bakugou giggled. Instantly his face went beet red, even as his mirth continued to spill over despite his best efforts. “N-No! Idiots, l-let me go, or I swear I’ll—!” Fingers moved up into his underarms, making him lose control even further, giggles being pulled out of him whether he liked it or not. He thrashed beneath his captors, face nearly unrecognizable for how red it had become. “Gah! S-Stop it! Seriously, I d-don’t--!”

“Ugh, stop fighting it,” Kirishima said, shifting so his knees were pinning Bakugou’s arms down now. Eager to get in on the fun, he scribbled in the blonde’s underarms while Kaminari returned to his ribs and sides.

“Knock it off!” Bakugou demanded, still struggling as much as possible. He managed to make Kaminari lose his balance a couple of times, but ultimately he was still trapped.

The two captors looked at each other again, and again came to a silent agreement. In the next instant Kaminari was untucking Bakugou’s shirt and sliding his hands underneath while Kirishima slipped his wiggling fingers underneath his short sleeves.

Bakugou jolted. “Nohohohohohohoho!” Soft, reluctant laughter poured from him freely now, and his body reacted more by squirming than anything else at this point. He squeezed his eyes shut to block out their grinning faces, but then immediately opened them again. Nope. Not doing that. “Agh! S-Stahahahahahap you mohohohohorons!”

“But it’s nice to hear you laughing, Bakugou,” Kaminari replied with a smile.

Kiri nodded. “Yeah! You’re always so grumpy and serious. It’s good to see you lighten up a little.”

“F-Fricking get ohohohohoff of me!” Bakugou managed between snickers. “I swear I’ll k-kihihihill you bohohohoth! Stahahahahap!”

“Uh…guys?”

The new voice made all three of them freeze and turn. Deku had entered the living room, looking completely perplexed and a little flustered. He looked first at Bakugou, then Kaminari, then Kirishima, and back to the first again. “W-What…what’s going on?”

“What does it look like, Midoriya?” Kiri scoffed good-naturedly. “You should know.”

“B-But…um…” Deku met Bakugou’s eyes for the briefest of moments before the blonde turned his face away, obviously blushing furiously from embarrassment. “He doesn’t…he doesn’t like it, you know? Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

That nerd was defending him now, dang it. Bakugou hated this. He hated it with every fiber of his being. Deku knowing he was ticklish was one thing. They’d grown up together; it was practically inevitable. But this? Having two of his classmates find out and then use it against him? This was a living nightmare.

“We just want to hear him laugh for a change,” Kaminari replied.

“Yeah! Oh, hey, Midoriya – you two grew up together, right?” Kiri asked, grinning. “Want to give us some tips?”

Suddenly Bakugou was struggling again, kicking and pushing against his two captors with renewed vigor, hoping that their being distracted would also mean they were off-guard. This was true for Kaminari, who toppled off of him with a yelp of surprise, but the same couldn’t be said for Kirishima, who continued to hold him down firmly like an immovable boulder.

“Dang it, spiky hair! Let me up already!” Bakugou yelled, keeping himself curled up so he could kick Kaminari away again if he needed to.

Deku frowned. He could tell his friend was really uncomfortable and embarrassed, but he didn’t know what to say to get Kirishima to let him go. “Listen, I know it would be nice to see Kacchan smile and laugh for once, but…it’s not worth making him hate you later, you know? Believe me, being on the receiving end of his wrath is not…not fun.”

Bakugou dared a glance back at Deku and was surprised to find him looking just as unhappy as he felt right now. Suddenly he had flashbacks to all the times growing up where the nerd would follow him around everywhere like a puppy – both before and after he got his quirk – always there to have his back and offer encouragement, even though Bakugou had never asked for it.

And here he was again – years later – doing the exact same thing. Defending him, trying to protect him, even though Bakugou never asked and never wanted it in the first place. Even though he had put Deku through so much torment over the years.

“UGH.” Bakugou growled loudly, letting his legs fall back to the floor in resignation, rolling his eyes. “FINE. Look, I hate this. I hate it. But if it will get you idiots to leave me the heck alone – and as long as you swear not to breathe a word of this to anyone – then fine. Just do it. Get it over with already.”

“K-Kacchan…”

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Bakugou snapped. “Just tell them and get on with it.”

Deku hesitated, but eventually the expectant looks from Kirishima and Kaminari coupled with the resigned face of his childhood friend made him cave, if nothing else just so Bakugou could be relieved of his suffering.

“I-It’s, um…y-you gotta…” Deku sighed, kneeling down beside them. “Here. Like this.” He didn’t dare look at Bakugou as he curled his hands into fists and drilled his knuckles into either side of the blonde’s ribcage.

“AAAGH!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Laughter exploded from Bakugou, his struggling coming back twice as strong as before. The atomic teen blushed so hard it spread to his ears and neck, but he couldn’t stop laughing, and Deku found he suddenly couldn’t stop smiling, either.

“Whoa! Dude, let me try!” Kaminari exclaimed, repeating what Deku did and making Bakugou unleash a new round of hysterics.

“GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“Me, too!” Kirishima reached over to repeat the action.

Bakugou writhed, lost in ticklish agony. “AHAHAHAHALL RIGHT ENOHOHOHOHOUGH ALREADYHEHEHEHE!! STAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“Just one minute,” Kirishima replied, beaming. “I promise.”

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHA YOU IHIHIHIHIHIDIOTS!!” Bakugou shrieked and thrashed and dug his heels into the floor, but none of it saved him, and he was blushing so hard Deku wondered if he could even breathe. “FRICKING STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! YOU GOT WHAHAHAHAHAT YOU WAHAHAHAHAHANTED!!”

“What about here?” Kaminari asked, knuckling into the spot that had made Bakugou break the first time, and the blonde dissolved into silent laughter.

“All right, that’s enough,” Kirishima announced, climbing off of his friend’s arms. Kaminari hopped off as well, leaving Bakugou to curl up in a ball and catch his breath.

Deku sat back, watching his friend with a worried expression on his face. His heart was pounding. He had no idea what Bakugou would do to any of them now that he was free, and it terrified him. “Kacchan—”

“Shut up,” Bakugou growled, though he didn’t turn to face any of them. “Not a word. Not a single. Word. Understand me?”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Kirishima said with a nod.

Kaminari concurred. “We promise.”

“Definitely,” Deku added, feeling the need to reaffirm the vow he’d already made years ago.

Bakugou was silent for a long while. Then he took in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and sat up, climbing back up to where he’d been seated on the couch not five minutes ago. He snatched up his textbook and glared at its contents. “Ugh. Where were we?”

[tmngoose]

Some Assembly Required: a Rottmnt story

Remember this post? Well, I decided to clean up what I had and show it to y’all. This was supposed to be a much longer story, but back when I was writing it, I jumped ship for a different fic I was working on and never came back OTL Characters: Donnie, Mikey, Raph, Leo, April, Shelldon, Draxum, Huginn & Muninn (albeit super brief) Tags: Lab accidents, fires, minor injuries, hurt/comfort, obscure UHF reference I won’t be uploading this to Ao3, so you can read it under the cut :U

For the longest time, Donnie dreamed of the perfect lab partner. Though Shelldon was an impeccable assistant, there were moments where Donnie longed to work side-by-side with another scientist. Someone with a thirst for knowledge! Someone who shared his passion for all things technical and methodical; a scientist, just like he considered himself to be! 

To think Baron Draxum would be Donnie's long-awaited lab partner was not a scenario the Softshell had ever fathomed. Still, it was one he accepted with great enthusiasm. 

Draxum and Donnie saw no reason to doubt their capabilities. However, the rest of the family remained wary whenever the two of them went off meddling in the lab. With April's help, Raph, Leo, and Mikey devised a strict set of guidelines to ensure Donnie and Draxum wouldn't get into too much trouble. 

"Scoff!" Donnie threw the hefty packet of rules down at his feet, offended. "What do you take us for: a pair of unhinged Frankensteins? Y'know, it'd be nice if, just for once, you guys would have a little faith in our scientific endeavors!" 

"It's not that we don't trust you guys," April explained, "It's just... you guys tend to get a little carried away with your projects, that's all!" 

"What's that suppose to mean?" 

"The last time Barry was in a lab, he created the Oozesquitos," April folded her arms, "And don't get me started about the time you messed with your brother's brains."

"Okay! I get it!" Donnie sighed. He picked up the packet of rules and flapped the dust out from its pages. "We won't get carried away: Todd scout's honor." 

April smiled, "Thanks, Dee." 

"Yes, well, if you'll excuse me, Draxum and I were just about to partake in our latest  scientific acquisition: Professor Philo's Chemistry Set for the At-Home Scientist!" Donnie started off for his lab, tucking the packet into a compartment in his battle-shell.

April shook her head, smiling as she headed inside the living room, where the sounds of 8-bit gaming welcomed her. Raph and Mikey were too invested in whatever racing game they were playing to notice April. 

"Soo, how'd it go?" Leo asked from his beanbag chair. "Is Donnie mad that we're afraid he'll bring Potatozilla into existence or what?"

"I say he handled it pretty well!" April plopped herself down in the recliner. "I told Donnie that we just wanted to make sure he and Draxum toned it down a bit, that's all." 

"See? I told you he'd listen to April!" Mikey grinned smugly at Leo.

Leo rolled his eyes, "Whatever." He went back to scrolling his social feed on his phone, "I'll believe it when they don't create a giant mutant potato or somethin'."

"Be nice, Leo," April swung her legs over the armrest. "We've gotta have a little faith in 'em. Besides, I've never seen Donnie this happy since-" 

KA-BOOOOOOM!!!

A powerful tremor shook the lair, taking everyone by surprise. The trinkets Splinter's 'Do Not Touch' cabinet rattled and shook, a few of the lighter items clattered to the floor. April held onto the armchair with Raph steadying it before it could topple over backward. Mikey hid inside of his shell out of reflex as Leo jumped to his feet, prepared to face whatever threat was upon them.

"Omigosh!" Mikey exclaimed, popping his head out of his shell. "What was that?!" 

"You don't think DIGG's tryin' to take down the Kaufman Coliseum again?" Raph frowned, trying to rub the ringing out from his ears. 

"Um, guys?" Leo sniffed the air, "Does anyone else smell something burning, or is that Raph's 'Taken-By-Surprise' stink?" 

Raph sniffed at his underarm, "Nope. It's not me!" 

April and Mikey took a moment to smell the air, their noses wrinkled at the familiar acrid odor of smoke. 

And smoke could only mean one thing: something was on fire. 

Oh no! Donnie! Barry! April's stomach dropped over the thought. She bolted out of the living room with Raph, Leo, and Mikey right behind her. "Please let it be a giant mutant potato!" 

It wasn't a giant mutant potato. 

By the time they entered the atrium, a thick cloud of smoke had spilled out from the mouth of Donnie's lab, billowing up into the rafters above. Although they couldn't see it, they could hear the fire roaring from deep within the lab.

"Mad Dogz!" Raph barked, "Initiate ‘Fire Safety Plan Alpha!’"  “FSssPAH!” Mikey pronounced the acronym from the back of the group.

But before Raph could lead the rescue, Draxum leaped out from the smoke carrying Donnie in his arms; their matching lab coats singed. Shelldon flew out, not too far behind, with Huginn and Munnin holding onto his back. 

"Barry!" April ran up to the soot-stained alchemist. "What happened?! I thought y'all we're gonna take things easy? Didn’t y’all read the packet?!" 

"We were," Draxum rasped, passing Donnie's limp body into Raph's arms. "If it weren't for a pair of idle hands." He gave his gargoyles a sharp look while removing the safety goggles from his face, leaving clean rings around his eyes.

Munnin's wings sagged, "The instructions weren't joking when it said 'everything in this chemistry set is a fire hazard.'"

"Yeah, including the instructions," Huginn hung his head, "Our bad."

"So, how're we suppose to handle this whole situation?" Leo asked, gesturing to the raging inferno that was (formally) Donnie's lab.

"I'm on it, dudes!" Shelldon replied, concentrating on his emergency protocols hardwired into his drives.

The fire-alarm system blared to life. Then came the hissing of the sprinklers going off and the gush of extinguishing foam spraying deep within the lab. Slowly, the smoke was beginning to ease up, much to everyone's relief.

Slowly, Donnie began to stir, groaning as he slowly regained consciousness, "Ugh... what? M-my lab..." His confusion morphed into panic as he realized the severity of the situation. "My lab!!" He squirmed feebly in Raph's arms, mortified.

"Woah, take it easy," Raph held Donnie against him, firm enough to subdue him yet careful not to hurt him. "That chemistry set of yours nearly got you guys barbequed." 

Donnie frowned, "No, you don't understand!" His eyes stung with tears as he thought of his life's work gone in a blaze of unsupervised stupidity. "Everything's ruined!"

"Hey, you don't know that for sure!" April gently touched Donnie's shoulder. "Besides, what's important is you're both okay!" 

"April's right," Mikey agreed, clinging to Draxum's side, "We're glad y'all made it out safely. A little flambéed, but you get the idea."

"But my lab," Donnie emphasized. 

"Lab shmab, we can worry about that later!" Leo nudged Draxum with his elbow. "For now, let's focus on getting you toasted marshmallows taken care of."

"Yeah, what Leo said!" Raph adjusted Donnie in his arms, heading for the bathroom where the first aid kit was kept. "Just you wait; maybe it's not as bad as you think!"

                                                            -x-

Raph's sense of judgment was always a mixed bag, and this time, he couldn't have been farther from the truth. 

The lab was a smoldering mess, virtually unrecognizable to the Turtles, Draxum, and April. The walls were blackened, and the smell of burnt wiring and computer parts hung sourly in the air. Puddles of foam and water gathered in parts of the floor, adding to the disarray.

Donnie searched desperately for anything salvageable, but the prospects were slim to none. The bandaged Softshell approached the remnants of his workstation, absolutely gutted. He reached for what was once a prototype for a new battle shell, but it crumbled into ash in his hands. 

"Alas, this must've been what it felt like to lose the Library of Alexandria," Donnie mourned poetically, sinking to his knees. Shelldon drifted up to his heartbroken creator, pressing his head against Donnie's side like the loyal drone he was.

"Okaaayyy, so it's a little charbroiled in here," Leo cringed. "But if anyone can fix this, it's you!" 

"Do you have any idea how long that'll take me?" Donnie moaned, overwhelmed by the daunting task. "It took me years of refurbishing junk and computer parts, and now I have nothing! Zilch! Nada! No equipment, no materials, no anything!"

Donnie's outburst left the others speechless. They had seen him upset before, but nothing to this extent. 

Quietly, Draxum approached Donatello, "As someone who has lost their life's work twice, I understand your plight," he said, joining the turtle on the floor. "However, unlike myself, you are fortunate not to face this endeavor alone. You have your friends, your brothers, and... your lab partner," Draxum looked off to the side, somewhat flustered by the sentimental mushiness his words implied. 

"Draxibald's right, Donnie!" Mikey beamed. He was so proud of Barry for stepping up to the plate. He popped up in between them, slinging his arms over their shoulders, "You've got us to help you! We'll have your lab up and running in no time!"

Leo smiled, "Yeah, with you bossing us around, we can totally get the job done!"

"But a total rebuild of this scope requires a certain level of technological sophistication!" Donnie deflated, "So unless you know of any tech-savvy geniuses out there, I don't see how any of this is possible."

"Oh, I know a guy," April answered, "And I'm lookin' right at him~" She smiled at Donnie, who didn't know how to process the compliment. "Have a little faith in yourself, Dee!"  Donnie blinked, stunned that his own words were used against him.

"Yeah, you said so yourself!” Raph joined in, “You and that big brain of yours built this lab out of nothin' but junk! If there's anyone who can build back better than ever, it's you! So whaddya say, Don?"

Donnie looked at Raph's hand extended out to him. He then glanced over at Leo, Mikey, and April, all eagerly awaiting his response. He turned to Draxum, who gave a curt nod.

Touched by the support of his family, Donnie wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye, "I say let's order some pizzas and chop-chop! Rome wasn't built in a day, people! We've got our work cut out for us!"  He took Raph’s hand and was lifted up from the ground.  Yes, Donnie supposed he could have a little faith in himself, and everyone else as well.

[actual-fucking-clown]

Take your time then.

Aizawa x gender neutral reader

Story under the cut :)

Unedited but like edited but still not properly edited :)

Hope you enjoy!!!

a/n: it’s been a hot min since I’ve written a fic. I think the last time i was 14 and it was shit and on wattpad. Ha. I hate myself. N e way, I was recently writing some shit for an au me and my friend thought up and in the back of my mind I was like, “you should start writing fics again bc this is kinda fun”, soo lo and behold I made a post asking if anyone would be interested, shared a little too much personal shit in it but whatever, and have now decided to write this mother fucker. (3/25/21)

a/n: not sure if anyone will care about this series of a/n’s but I’m just chronicling thoughts ig. rewriting rn bc my first draft was short and ass. Also I’m thinking about opening requests after this is posted, will go into detail in a diff post maybe. (3/28/21)

a/n: deleted everything, rewriting. I just want to make something that might be decent and if I can give that feeling, y’know those chills you get when you read something utterly gorgeous, but I’m bad at writing. sadge (3/28/21, like several hours later)

a/n: ugh (4/1/21)

a/n: ugh pt 2 electric boogaloo. I can’t seem to move forward with the writing. I realized something like this might happen bc to solve a problem feelings need to be discussed and I fucking hate doing that so you can see where I’m fucking up lmaooooo (4/2/21)

a/n: I read angst to fuel my writing brain. So, read some angst, finally writing agian. This first section is probs as long as the story itself LMFAO(4/5/21)

Started: (3/25/21) Finished: (4/5/21)

Warnings: uh angst, curse words, like a lot, (i saw someone else put this as a warning, do I actually need it?), avoiding problems instead of actually facing them, mentions of shit so-so parenting, mentions of not being able to live up to high expectations, y’know, the works

Synopsis: Aizawa takes in Eri without running it by you first and expects you to be okay with it. That’s funny. He was wrong.

Can I preface this with a thought? I’m going to anyway,

all the fics I read paint him as the sweetest partner and I’m sure he is but I think they miss out on how blunt he is and his whole “Mr. Rationality” thing. So as much as I adore him I think there are situations that he’d be a bit more colder towards, a bit more straightforward about. Maybe even like a bit insensitive about but maybe bc he doesn’t have the full picture or something. so I guess this is another warning but aizawa is a little insensitive in the beginning (but like not really but kinda. it’s complicated)

~

Rain pattered softly against the window. The smell of some old random Bath and Bodyworks candle you’d dug out from a box you’d never bothered to unpack smothered the room. Some Netflix show idly played on a low volume on your computer, you’d lost interest in watching tv awhile ago. You needed a break. After the eventful month you’d been having you really needed this. 

Now of course your whole year so far had been eventful. What with all the villain attacks on you and Shouta’s class and the kidnapping of one of your students, to just dealing with the more mundane problems with your students. No. You had no problem with that. The villains, although not easy, were something you were trained to handle. The smaller problems with your students weren’t arduous either, after all you weren’t too much older than them. 

When reflecting on your situation, from and outside perspective it could be seen as the straw the broke the camels back, which sure, makes sense. After all, you’re bound to be stressed out by everything else, so why would this seemingly insignificant thing weigh heavier than a villain attack? Well if that is the situation why does this single straw feel like it weighs a ton? This is not that. This is not culmination of the events of this year draining the life from you. This is something entirely different. A panic inducing life change that completely took you by surprise mixed with your inability to actually face your problems. 

You don’t blame them. You can’t. They’ve done nothing wrong. A child. A small, probably mentally scarred child is your problem. Well not her personally but the fear taking care of her instills in you. Despite working in the field that you do, you cannot for the life of you handle actual children. Sure you’re a little awkward with your class but at least they’re young adults and (vaguely) mature and independent to a certain extent. The fact that your long term boyfriend just came back one day, small child in tow and said “Hey I’ve gotta look after this one now” not verbatim obviously, for a lack of better words, fucked you up. He basically solo adopted a kid and, let’s be honest, he probably expected you to help out. But how could you? How could this man look at you and think “I want this person to help me raise an already fucked up child?” Ok sure, he doesn’t at first give off the “I’m totally father figure material” vibe but in the end he is extremely competent. You on the other hand, not so much.

You’d never been good with children. Tried your best to steer clear of them. Didn’t matter the place, didn’t matter who’s kid, you couldn’t handle them. You would just stand there, awkwardly, not entirely sure of what to do and petrified that there was the possibility of making some mistake which would upset the child and then oh wow look, your head got chopped right of your shoulders. That’s hyperbole of course but it does sum up the insurmountable fear that overcomes you whenever you have to deal with a child. So considering the fact that your long term boyfriend had suddenly decided to adopt and not at least warn you, didn’t sit right with you.

So, the best and most obvious choice, was to avoid your problem. Avoid Shouta, avoid Eri. Avoid the mention of them and you, avoid it all. And honestly you’d done pretty well so far. You were able to have as little contact with them as possible considering the close proximity of your living quarters in the teacher’s dorms. After all they were legally supposed to give you two separate rooms but you never actually used yours, well until now. You were living it up honestly. Did you feel awful? Of course. He is your boyfriend after all and you were sure Eri doesn’t deserve your cold shoulder but this is probably for the best. What could you offer her? You weren’t sure that you were a good role model for her or anyone for that matter. What did you know about raising kids? it’s not like you had parents to set a proper example for you. Of course they might have shown you what not to do but where do you go from there? Is shit like that really avoidable? You don’t want to be like them. You strive to be better but what if you can’t be. There’s also the added bonus of the fact that raising a kid seems taxing on a relationship. Now matter how strong you were sure that the stress of a kid could break a relationship down that then festers into something toxic and unrecognizable. You didn’t want that. God you couldn’t let that happen. No. This was definitely for the better.

Of course Aizawa didn’t feel the same. He was confused on why his partner had been so blatantly avoiding him. Did he do something wrong? He doesn’t remember doing anything that might’ve upset you. So why now? Why pull away now? He had to get down to the bottom of this but catching you was the hard part. You had been taking on more work, offering more assistance to the other teachers, picking up extra patrols, doing everything and anything to stay away from Shouta. It took him a month but he finally caught up to you. You were tired, worn out he knew that. Instead of loading yourself with work you’d decided to hole yourself up in your room. It was now or never.

You were pulled out of your peace at the sound of a few gentle knocks to your door. You really didn’t want to get it. You honestly couldn’t be bothered. 

“(N/n)? Are you in there?” He hadn’t gotten it wrong right? He hadn’t been too distracted earlier and missed you leaving right?

“What’s up?” You hummed from your place by the window, not bothering to actually open the door.

“Can I come in?” Shouta asked, voice soft. You could barely hear him above the patter of the rain and the low humming of your laptop.

“Uh, no, kinda busy. Got loads of work to do. Need to focus, sorry. Maybe later?” You hesitantly spoke. Not sure if you were convincing enough. 

Apparently you weren’t.

He sighed. “It’s been “later” for an entire month. Please (Y/n) just let me in. Whatever this is we can talk it out.” You had predicted that eventually Shouta would start to try to crack down on whatever the issue was but you didn’t expect it so soon. 

“Uh...no?” You tried, hoping that maybe he’d just give up but that wasn’t Shouta.

“No, you don’t get that option, now please, open the door.” Although it was still soft his voice had taken a more stern tone.

“Oh no I’m dead. I guess I can’t open the door. What a shame. I guess the only way to talk with me now is in the pits of hell.” You quipped, trying to lessen the tension that already ran thick.

“(Y/n).” Aizawa sighed.

“Jeez fine. Talk about pushy.” You quipped once more to no avail.

Opening the door you were met with, well exactly what you expected. He stood there, arms crossed, a stern yet gentle look in his eyes, his lips pulled into a slight frown. 

“Come in.” You mumbled as you stepped further into your room.

“So tell me. What’s wrong?” The sentence stirred so much. Of course you wanted to tell him. You wanted to spill your guts to the man you loved in hopes of comfort but you just can’t. You know you’ll just scare him off. You know you’ll make things worse.

So you stay silent.

He says nothing as he grabs your hands gently and leads you over to your bed. He sits the two of you down on the edge, muting the movie on the laptop sitting behind him.

“You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you right?” Shouta sent you a warm smile. 

You weren’t very comfortable with discussing your feelings sometimes, it mostly stemmed from the fact that you never really could discuss them with anyone growing up which made it harder to confide in anyone now, as at this point bottling things up was a habit. But this was also just something that you were sure that you couldn’t talk about.

Silence answered him once again.

Now he took sometime to think about his approach, think about what could’ve happened that made you pull away. What did he do that was different from his norm? He was genuinely stumped and the fact that you weren’t helping him confused him even more.

You decided to take this time to lament the situation too. What was he going to do? Should you actually tell him or play it off? If you play it off will he still insist that something is wrong? If you tell him will he leave you? If you don’t tell him will he leave you? You risked a glance at him, he was still deep in thought.

Why did you have to adopt this fucking kid without at least warning me?

“What?” Your head shot up at the sound of his shocked voice.

“What?” You asked, genuinely confused.

“Eri’s the problem...?” He spoke slowly, not entirely sure if he’d heard you right.

“Did I say that out loud?” You squeaked.

“I’m pretty sure you mumbled something along the lines of “why’d you have to adopt that fucking kid”.” Shouta said, unsure if he’d heard wrong. Wanting to have heard wrong.

“No no no no no no! It’s not like that! I mean it is like that but not like that!” You frantically waved your hands in hopes of defusing the situation.

The way he looked at you made you want to cry. You felt horrible. You felt like the biggest asshole in the world and, at this point you probably were. He looked at you with such a look of heartbreak and disappointment and confusion it made you sick to your stomach. You felt light-headed and started shaking. You were right. You were right. You were always right. God why did you have to be right! Why did you have to be like this? Scared of raising a fucking child! It was asinine and irrational and you could probably move past it  but thanks to your stupid fucking brain you just sealed your fate.

You scooted away from him still waving your hands frantically as no’s tumbled endlessly from your lips. You tried sputtering an apology, anything so that he wouldn’t look at you like that but nothing stuck. Nothing was comprehensible. Nothing worked. Nothing would work. Nothing will work. You were hopeless. It was hopeless. 

“If it isn’t like how it seems then tell it to me straight.” Shouta finally spoke up.

You took a second to come down from your panic. You steeled your nerves as much as possible before you spoke. 

“Um well, I have nothing against her it’s just that a little heads up would’ve been nice? I’m not all that great with kids so this is just kind of weird is all.” You were purposefully being vague in hopes that he’d understand what you meant and also maybe drop it.

“Not great with kids? You’re literally a teacher.” He pointed out.

“Yeah you know but she’s like a kid kid and let’s be honest I’m not too great with the students either.” You awkward laughed. So he wasn’t getting it.

“Wha-you’re fine with the students and I’m sure you’ll be fine with Eri, there was no reason to avoid me over this.” Shouta sighed. As good as he was with dealing with people, he was equally as shit. Or maybe it was just the fact that you gave him very little to work with. It was probably a bit of both. Still his dismissiveness was not helping you right now.

“No, no, no, no. I think I’ll stay here. Uh, good luck with your parenthood escapades and sorry to leave you high and dry like this but that’s going to have to be a no from me.” You rambled. He seemed to be getting a little tired of this.

“(Y/n) stop being irrational. She’s not even our kid I’m just looking after her for now. Why are you being difficult? I told you you were fine with the students and you’ll be fine with Eri, what else do you want to hear?” Shouta grumbled.

“Well uh I don’t know, uh...” You trailed off, this seemed to be going in a direction you really didn’t want it to go. A slight hostility settling in the air.

At your lack of a proper answer he clicked his tongue. He took a moment to reassess the situation. There had to be something he was missing. After all you were getting really worked up but if you weren’t going to talk to him there was nothing he could do. He shook his head before running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“(Y/n), please, please, just be honest with me. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me. But I won’t be able to understand if you don’t.” Aizawa sighed, deciding that getting worked up about this was not the way to go, especially when you seemed to be especially distraught.

“Uh, god the thing is I don’t know entirely what to say to put the shitshow in my head into perspective.” You mumbled, trying desperately to figure out what to say that could clear the air but nothing seemed to be coherent enough.

“Take your time.” He decided that this was the best approach to things, making sure neither party got too worked up lest this turn into a fight.

The rain continued to patter softly against the window and your candle continued to burn an slightly off floral-ish scent.  A deafening silence hung in the air because even though he was being as patient as possible some of his frustration leaked through, it was bound to though so you couldn’t exactly blame him. After all, you were probably equally as frustrated with yourself too. 

“I’m just not good in a position like this. I’m not good with kids, especially someone like Eri who’s already so broken. You have that nurturing nature, it comes natural to you but I’m not on that level. I  don’t know the first thing about caring for a child let alone one as already traumatized as her. I’d fuck it up and only make things worse. I don’t want you to reassure me that I’ll be okay with her, I want you to understand that I’m not comfortable with this and that it might take me awhile to come around. I’m sure I sound like the biggest asshole ever but please understand that this just isn’t something I’m ready for.” You had rambled a bit, you were aware of that, but it was the only way that you could properly express your feelings without making things too complicated.

Aizawa said nothing. Trying to figure out how to go about things.

Was he upset? Yeah, you two, even after several long years of being together, hadn’t discussed moving forward in your relationship in depth. And if he’d tried you seemed content with the point you two were at so he left it be, no reason to try and move forward when what you had was already fine the way it was. But recently he’d been craving more. Some mornings, when he’d be the first to wake, he’d study your features in the soft light of the sunrise and wonder what it’d be like to properly settle down with you. Get married, start a family, all that jazz. He’d taken in Eri only because it was the most rational decision. His quirk would be good for quelling hers had it ever gotten out of hand. But it also seemed to quell his musings of something more with you. He had imagined you being a good parental figure for the little girl and it made his heart flutter and his stomach explode with butterflies. But now seeing that that wasn’t what you wanted and how you weren’t ready for it, it stung. But in the end, he loved you. He’d easily give his life for you. So, if that meant waiting he’d wait. He’d wait a million years if he had to. He could do it.

Once again he spoke,

“Take your time then. I can wait.”

Tagslist?: @captainchrisstan (I think you said you wanted to be tagged but I’m also just small brained lol If u didn’t want to and I misinterpreted things just let me know :) )

[ithinkweallsing]

Promise

Remus Lupin x Fem Reader

Warning- mild depiction of violence/ blood 

A little angsty with a super fluffy ending, hurt/comfort 

WC- 3.1K 

A/N- Let me know what you think! Huge thank you to @newa0810 for editing this and Spilled Beans! 

__

He was still gone. He should have been back by now.

What was taking him so long? Why was he not back yet? Oh god, what if he had gotten ambushed by Death Eaters?

Your thoughts raced as you anxiously paced the worn floorboards of your little apartment. Remus had been gone for weeks and you hadn’t heard anything. Of course, you couldn’t expect to hear anything from him, but you were still stressed.

You remembered what he said to you that night at Grimmauld Place when he had left for the mission. He had looked tired, but his face was still handsome and peppered with the pale scars that you kissed each night because you had to love them enough for the both of you when he couldn’t. The situation had seemed eerily ominous as you kissed him goodbye. You closed your eyes and pictured the conversation.

“Come home to me in one-piece, ok love?” You told him desperately as the rest of the group was getting ready to leave.

He looked up from his bag and directly into your eyes. “Of course, dear, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Do you promise?” You asked hesitantly.

“I promise on every chocolate bar in Honeydukes that I will be home in one piece for you darling,” He said with confidence.

You let out a strained laugh. “Well, if we’re swearing on Honeydukes chocolate I feel just fine,” you chuckle, momentarily distracted from the fact that he was about to leave for Merlin knows how long. He gave you a small hopeful smile, glad that he could hear your laugh again, if it really is for the last time.

“Do you have enough healing potions?” You asked worriedly, shuffling through your own handbag. “I might have a few extra that you should take-”

He put his hand on yours to cease your searching. “Yes dear, I have plenty, St. Mungos should be investigating your theft of their stores.”

“They can take the loss I’m sure,” You responded with a passive wave of your hand. You had been working at St. Mungos for the past 3 years and the head healer trusted your judgement.

“I lo- I’ll miss you,” He corrected himself, stopping before he could blurt out the words that he had been waiting for the right moment to say for the past two weeks.

You gave him one last tight hug. “I’ll miss you too,” You said into his shoulder. He gripped you tighter for a second before finally releasing and moving out with the rest of the group. Just before the door shut, he caught your eyes again and winked with a small smile. You gave a weak smile in return. Then, the door was shut and he was gone.

That was almost three weeks ago.

You knew you couldn’t be upset, especially with what was going on in the world right now. This stuff was bound to happen. Both of you were often away, leaving the other to worry and fret before eventually coming home to each other. You felt like an idiot, an anxious and stupid, idiot.

What if he never came back and you had never gotten the chance to say the big word to him?

You had of course known that you loved him; you had known for a while, but you were never sure when you were supposed to say it. Everyone always talks about the magic of hearing the love of your life say ‘I love you’ for the first time, but what if you had missed it now because you were too scared to say it to him before he left?

“What if he doesn’t come back?” You asked the empty space in a small voice.

He had never been gone this long, neither of you had. You had not been given any details about the mission for security reasons, the less people that knew the better, but you did know that it was dangerous. It felt different this time; you were used to sleeping next to him with his arms around you, giving you a warm embrace of security and comfort, or wrapping him in your arms to give him comfort after the full moon. You were not used to going without it, without him for this long. He would disappear for a few days around his time of the month, but this was different, there was no assurance that he was ok or that he was even alive.

You had taken to sleeping on the sofa, not that it mattered because you hardly slept anyways. The bags under your eyes were a token from your multiple restless nights, and the fog that had yet to clear from your mind served as a constant reminder of how much you needed him. A fog that only cleared after a Vitamix potion, taken for the sake of your patients at the hospital.

You wandered around your apartment in one of his sweaters, you didn’t live together but you had a fair amount of stuff in the other’s respective house. You had started wearing his sweaters when he was gone, not just on missions but during the full moon too, months ago, you could snuggle up in one and pretend that it was the same as being near him.

Sirius came to check in on you a few times, looking at you with pity and worry. Today was no exception.

“Why are you at my apartment Sirius?” You asked, opening the door with a frown on your face. You were grumpy to have been pulled away from your worrying, even if it was probably for the best that you took a break from pacing.

“Ugh, ‘apartment’,” He mocked in a phony-American accent as he moved past you and inside.

“Sirius, I moved here three years ago! I still say apartment, and aluminum foil and restroom because that’s how I speak and I’m not going to change. Now, do you need something, or did you just come to bug me again?” You snapped, closing the door behind you, and going towards him in the living room.

“Easy love” -he held his hands up in surrender- “I come in peace. I’m just here to check in on you. Moony would want you to take care of yourself while he’s gone. When was the last time you ate a full meal or slept in a bed?” He asked, giving you a once-over.

You shrugged dejectedly and sat down on the couch, staring at the unlit logs in the fireplace. “It doesn’t really matter does it?” You asked in a hopeless tone, your voice raising with your anxiety as you abruptly stood up. “I feel like I can’t focus not knowing he’s ok - I mean what if something happened to him?”

“Woah calm down doll, it’s no use working yourself up over something you can’t do anything about,” Sirius said, guiding you to sit back down on the couch.  

“Ok,” He continued, “I’m not really supposed to share mission details with anyone, but I mean, look at you.”

“Thanks Sirius,” You responded dryly, collapsing into the couch. Then it registered in your brain what he had said.  He had news about Remus? You sat up straighter.

“Alright out with it Pads, tell me what’s going on!” You exclaimed, turning your body fully towards him on the sofa.

“Apparently the mission is going well and they’re almost ready to come home. The last time we got an update, they had just found Dolohov and were preparing to strike.”

“When did you last get an update?” You asked anxiously.

“About 4 hours ago.”

“Are you serious?” You prodded, looking for more information about Remus.

“Well yes love, of course I’m Sirius, but I am a little offended that you don’t remember, especially after all these years,” He responded chuckling at his stupid pun.

You rolled your eyes. “So, when do you think that he’s coming back?” You asked, a new light shining in your eyes.

“I really shouldn’t be telling you this,” He said with a mock look of hurt on his face and a slight laugh. “I mean you didn’t even remember my name after all this time.”

You weren’t in the mood for jokes. “Sirius, please, this is the love of my life, I don’t know what I would do if something happened to him.”

His face dropped and he sat up straighter, fixing you with a searching look. “You really love him, don’t you?” He asked you, hands clasped together, his arms on his knees as he waited for your response.

“With my everything. He is my everything,” you mumbled, embarrassed, with a flush on your cheeks. You were embarrassed because neither of you had actually said the big word yet and the first person you were admitting it to outside your own stream of consciousness was Sirius Black.

Sirius looked at you with an unrecognizable expression on his face before sighing and saying, “Well doll, I’d say he’s pretty crazy about you too.”

You and Remus were fairly open with your affection and your devotion to each other, but hearing it come from Sirius, who had been basically family to Remus for years, meant a lot to you.

“Tell you what, how about you clean yourself up, and we can go to headquarters to wait for them to come back,” he said, standing up. He checked his watch and added, “Which should be pretty soon.”

You quickly stood and raced to the bathroom. You grimaced at yourself in the mirror before hopping into the shower and scrubbing yourself clean. Afterwards, you left the bathroom feeling refreshed and more at peace than you had in a while.

You quickly crossed the small hallway into your room that was basically yours and Remus’ room with how much he stayed over. After throwing on one of Remus’ sweaters and a pair of jeans, you put your hair up and walked out of the bedroom to find Sirius waiting by the door patiently. You slipped your wand into your back pocket and heaved a sigh.

“Let’s go,” you said.  

The two of you left your apartment and quickly walked into the alley behind your building. Sirius grabbed hold of your hand and apparated the both of you to the front door of Grimmauld Place. Once you landed, you let out a deep exhale and tried not to sway on the steps. Sirius looked at you and let go of your hand in favor of grabbing your arm instead to try and steady you.

“Thanks,” you replied, eyes clenched shut and body doubled over, desperately trying not to vomit all over the sidewalk. You hated apparating.

           Sirius ushered you inside gently and you immediately caught sight of Molly Weasley. She rushed over to you, looking at you up and down worriedly.

“Y/n look at you!” She gasped. “When was the last time you ate a proper meal? We’ve just finished up supper here but let me fix you a plate?” she said quickly, leading you to the table to sit down.

“Thank you, Molly. That would be wonderful,” you said gratefully.

You looked around at the table as Molly wandered off to the kitchen to get your food. Arthur was reading the newspaper, Fred and George were entertaining Ginny with an Extendable Ear, and Harry and Hermione were playing some muggle card game which Ron was watching with interest. Sirius sat down next to you as Molly set down two steaming plates with an aroma that made your mouth water. You both started eating and afterwards you felt much better.

“Thank you for the delicious food Molly,” you said as you pull out your wand to do the dishes.

“Oh, it’s not a problem dear,” she responded with a smile. “It looked like you could use it.”

You sat back down once the dishes were done, and Sirius began chatting with Arthur. You tried your best to pay attention to what the conversation was about, but your mind kept slipping back to the fact that Remus was almost home. Your knee bounced under the table and your eyes kept flicking to the door at any noise, hoping to see him walking through.

“Y/n…Y/n?” Arthur asked, and your eyes quickly moved to focus back on the conversation you were still kind of not really paying attention to.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Arthur, what were you saying?” you asked trying to reengage with him and Sirius.

Sirius just laughed and said, “Arthur, don’t bother asking her now, she’s too anxious for Moony’s return.”

You blushed. “I apologize Arthur. I think I’m just a touch distracted right now.”

Arthur just smiled knowingly and turned back to his conversation with Sirius, leaving you to your own thoughts and leg bouncing.

You were planning on telling Remus that you loved him. Him being gone made you think about how important he was to you and you wanted to tell him as soon as possible. Your thoughts clouded with worry, though. What if he doesn’t say it back? What if he doesn’t feel the same way that you do and it’s a huge mistake?

Maybe you should just wait and continue living the same way as before. That was working, it was working well, so why would you try to change that? you asked yourself, drowning in your own thoughts.

Sirius pulled you out of your reverie. “Calm down Y/n. You look like you’re going to combust or something,” he said with a concerned look on his face.

 You just shook your head and offered a small, grim smile. “Sirius what if he doesn’t feel the same way?” you whispered.

He looked at you and scoffed. “Y/n if you can’t see the way Moony looks at you then you must be blind. I have never seen him look at anyone the way that he looks at you,” he responded.

Well, that made you feel better, but before you could say anything, there was a commotion at the door.

You rushed to the sound and saw what you had been waiting to see for the past three weeks: Remus. Although, this wasn’t exactly how you pictured his homecoming.

He was standing in the doorway, supported by someone on either side of him, his body limp and weak. His hair and clothes were a mess and he looked like he was in desperate need of a hot bath, but still, he was there. He was alive.

Your eyes locked and he gave you a faint, weak smile. Without wasting another second, you rushed over to him, but when you reached out to touch his arm you gasped.

Remus’ arm was almost spliced clean off.

You looked on in horror at his mangled arm as he was rushed to one of the sofas by some of the others. Snapping out of your reverie, you immediately pulled out your wand and made your way to his side as others surrounded the sofa. You started muttering a healing spell and gave a silent sigh of relief as you saw his flesh starting to knit back together and mend. Molly Weasley handed you a bottle of dittany and after Remus’ arm was no longer in danger of falling off, you quickly unstopped the bottle of dittany and dripped it onto his arm, watching as the last traces of the, once horrific, wound disappeared. You looked up from his arm to him staring intently at you, with a soft smile on his face.

You quickly closed the bottle and performed a quick cleaning spell to remove the bloodstains from Remus’ clothes and the sofa.

He looked at you, that soft smile still on his face, and you reached out to gently brush away the hair that had fallen into his face.

“I missed you, y/n,” Remus said, softly.

“I missed you too, so much,” you responded, taking the hand on his non-injured arm into your own, squeezing softly. “How are you feeling Rem, do you want anything for the pain?” You asked, not confident that your healing was sufficient for him to be completely painless even after the reparation.

“No, it feels good as new y/n. Perks of dating a healer, I guess,” he said with a grin.

You rolled your eyes and took a moment to look at him. He looked tired, but he was looking at you with an expression that you couldn’t find words for.

Breaking eye contact, you cleared your throat slightly. “Let’s get you in bed, want to sleep at my place?” you asked, slightly aware of the others in the room.

“Yes, I cannot wait to sleep with you for the next week,” he responded with a smirk.

“Me neither,” you responded, laughing, some of the tension in your body dissipating at his ability to joke around. You stood and helped him up slowly, still worried about his arm, even though he assured you it’s perfectly fine. You both got ready to apparate while Sirius leaned on the wall, watching the two of you together with a slight smirk on his face.

“Glad you’re back safe and sound Moony,” he said. Remus gave him a smile and a nod as you both bade your goodbyes to the rest of the house and quickly apparated to the alley by your apartment.

You made your way into the apartment and dropped your stuff at the door, letting out a tired sigh. Once fully inside, you went to start a hot bath, but Remus stopped you before you could make it to the bathroom and engulfed you into a tight hug. Instinctually, your arms wrapped around his taller frame, holding him to you as you both breathed in each other’s presence. He stepped back and removed himself from your embrace to give you a once-over.

“Y/n are you ok? You look exhausted,” he said, concern lacing his voice.

You looked at him for a minute, just taking in the man before you, the man that you loved with every fiber of your being, and suddenly you couldn’t help yourself.

“I love you!” you blurted out. A hot blush rushed to your cheeks when you realized what you had just said, but you didn’t regret. Not one bit.

He looked at you, eyes widening, then a soft, dopey smile spread across his face.  

“I love you too.”

Your eyes widened at his response, and then you reached on your tiptoes to grab his face and guide it to yours. You kissed, soft, sweet and full of promise.

  Tags- @probably-peeves @snapefiction @newa0810

[giorno-plays-piano]

Impersonator

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, death of minor character.

Words: 1953.

Summary: Meeting a cosplayer in Berlin isn’t a big deal, really. You don’t actually know why you are drawn to this guy in his stunning horned helmet, standing on the train with a seidr in his hand.

P.S. I own the plot of this story to amazing @caffiend-queen​ and my determination to write it to lovely @kinathewolf​ <3 Although I changed the story a little (this post made us discuss the idea), I hope you will like it!

_____________________

Waking up when it was barely six, you kept yawning and rubbing your eyes while sitting on the train. You worked for one of the thousands of start-ups in Berlin, and your boss always liked to start pretty early. Well, despite waking up when it was still dark, you didn’t mind, really – the U-Bahn was much less busy now than thirty minutes later, and you didn’t have to stand the whole way to your station.

Today was a bit different, though. Not that there were too many people, but that one guy with his horned helmet looked so fantastic you simply couldn’t take your eyes off him. He had entered on the Bismarckstraße station, and since then you had been staring at him shamelessly. He was the spitting image of Loki, that god from Asgard, the one who had been released by Avengers not so long ago for his aid in protection of Earth from an invading alien force. Now Loki had his own fan club, and this guy was probably one of the squad. Seeing him in a full suit wasn’t surprising either – tomorrow was the first day of Comic Con, so he was probably going for a cosplay catwalk rehearsal before the event.

No one was really paying attention to him as he stood silently near the door with his seidr, but you just couldn’t help yourself. Come on, he was probably the most handsome guy you had seen in years, not even mentioning his gorgeous costume. Although you had never been Loki’s fan – for God’s sake, you still remembered that day in Stuttgart – this guy’s passion for cosplay was admirable.

When you reached Wittenbergplatz, a group of cheerful tourists entered the train, and the guy had to move further, taking a place close to yours. Of course, you still stared at him in awe, and he quickly noticed you. His piercing gaze finally made you realize it was unacceptable to gawk at someone like this, and you averted your eyes, feeling your cheeks growing hot. The cosplayer chuckled at your reaction.

“I’m so sorry!” You muttered, clenching the fabric of your jacket. “I just- ugh, I mean, your cosplay is stunning!” Now that you said it, you were just too humiliated to add anything. Why couldn’t you be like all other people who didn’t harass the poor guy with them staring? Of course, no one would be comfortable with some creepy girl watching over them.

But the guy didn’t look worried or embarrassed even the slightest bit. When you saw his face, you realized he was amused as he looked at you with a grin on his face. Now you even felt a little scared because there was something animalistic in his gaze.

“Thank you. I was spending day and night crafting this costume.” He was smiling, and you realized he was probably playing the role of Loki now.

Oh damn, of course. Being a cosplayer meant not only wearing a costume of your character but being this character, behaving like them, speaking like them, sometimes even moving like them. This guy was doing exactly this, and, to be honest, he was really good at acting since for a minute you believed he wasn’t just a mere human.

“I’m sure you will be the winner of the contest this year.” You smiled shyly at him, still embarrassed at your behaviour earlier, and the guy laughed at you a little. God, you felt so terribly awkward.

“Thank you. If my brother won’t show up, I’m sure I’ll have a chance.” For a second you thought there was something bittersweet in his eyes, but then it was gone, and the cosplay rose to his feet, shining in the electric light of the subway. “This is my stop. Have a good day, my lady.”

Of course, you barely nodded at him, felling like you’re gonna explode from the way he called you and how the guy bowed his head a bit at you as if you truly were some Asgardian goddess. Minutes later you would curse yourself for being so stupid to not even ask his cosplayer’s nickname – how on Earth were you going to find his profile on Facebook now? Since you were in the middle of a new marketing campaign, your boss would never let you leave tomorrow to visit Comic Con, and that was your only chance to ever see that amazing guy again.

Ugh, living with that useless brain of yours was quite a challenge.

You had already bid farewell to the cosplayer since you knew meeting him by chance again in a city as big as Berlin was impossible – especially if without his costume and wig and makeup the guy would be unrecognizable. The next evening you were sitting in the train just like all other evenings when you were coming late from work, a bag with a chicken sub in your hands along with an already cold cup of tea. You sighed, thinking of Comic Con and all the fun people were having there. Damn, next year you would definitely take a short vacation to finally visit the convention. Maybe you would have a chance to meet that mysterious guy again.

“It smells nice.”

You immediately raised your head, staring at the cold blue eyes of the guy you met yesterday’s morning. He was still wearing his horned helmet and shining golden armor, the Scepter in his hand. He sat close to you again, and you suddenly found the courage to smile at him widely. God, it was happening. He was really here, with you.

Was he coming back from Comic Con? You thought they finished way later, but maybe he was just tired to spend the whole day in this outfit – you could imagine how heavy it was – and left earlier. You couldn’t blame him, thinking of how many people probably wanted to take a photo of him during the day, too, and it was definitely tiresome as hell to pose in front of tons of people for hours.

“Would you like some?” You handed him your paper bag. “It’s a sub with chicken. I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Ah, it’s a very generous offer. It would be rude of me to decline it.” His smile sent chills down your spine, but you reminded yourself he was still playing his role. Anyway, what could he do? Follow you to your apartment in this outfit? Seriously? He would be stuck in the hallway with those horns of his.

You watched like the Loki-guy took a half of your sub and returned the other half to you, then taking a bite and chewing slowly. To your delight, he nodded, telling you he liked it without words, and you chuckled at him. Now he looked almost cute with his puffed cheeks as he kept biting more and more. Apparently, the sub wasn’t bad, and you dug in it enthusiastically, caring little for a few other passengers. No one was looking at you two, anyway.

Halfway through finishing his part, the guy stared questioningly at your paper cup of tea, and you smiled at him with confusion.

“You can have it, too, but it’s already cold, sorry.”

Now he was grinning like a Cheshire cat. Did he think it was funny? Was it because he thought real Loki would find it funny? You were too confused but decided not to ask. You looked silly enough yesterday when you were gaping at him with wide eyes. No more of this today! You couldn’t blow it if you wanted to ever see the guy again.

“It’s quite alright. Let me help you.” He carefully lowered his seidr so it touched your cup, and in the next moment you saw a soft blue glowing surrounding it. It was coming directly from the Scepter, and you literally opened your mouth while staring at it wide-eyed. Wait, did this guy put something inside the seidr? Like, a light bulb or something? God, it was beyond your imagination!

But before you started throwing questions at him, you suddenly saw a wisp of steam coming from your tea and felt how the cup grew hot in your hand. Oh shoot, it definitely wasn’t just some light bulb! His Scepter was a real machine!

You probably looked like a little kid, your eyes shining and jaw dropped at the sight of something that looked like a miracle to you, and Loki-guy chuckled softly. He was seemingly content with your reaction as you even sniffed your tea a little bit to feel it really was hot again. But when you brought the cup to him, thinking he wanted to drink, he gently refused it.

“Thank you, but you have already given me enough.” His smile was much softer, and your cheeks grew hot again at his kindness, though it was you who shared your food with him. Strangely, it was like this stranger had some effect on you, and you smiled back at him, lowering your head to have a sip of tea.

However, the next moment the guy furrowed his brows, looking somewhere behind you, and you saw him lifting his seidr again, pointing at something behind your back. You missed his concerned gaze, but not noticing the blinding light coming from the Scepter was absolutely impossible – for a second you almost lost your eyesight, squeezing your eyes shut and clenching the paper cup in your hand. What was that?! But before you got truly scared, the light had disappeared, and all you saw was that Loki-guy sitting close to you with a piece of chicken sub wrapped in a napkin in his hand. His Scepter looked the same as before, no blue glowing coming from it. Wait, you didn’t imagine this blinding light, did you? It was here just a second ago!

As you tried to turn back to see what was happening, the stranger suddenly stopped you, his warm hand on your shoulder as he leaned closer to you, smiling, “Your tea is going to be cold again.”

“Yes, b-but-“ You gawked at him and then stared at his seidr, unsure what to say. “I-I mean, have you seen that light? Did it come from this thing?”

You heard someone behind you letting out a sudden scream and smelled metal and plastic melting. It was disturbing enough as it was, but then you realized you smelled the burning flesh searing from someone’s bones.

The Scepter. The guy’s resemblance to the Asgardian God of mischief. Shit.

Before you tried turning again to see what was left of the seats behind you, Loki’s grip on your shoulder became painfully strong. You watched him leaning even closer to you in slow motion, the world around you slowing down as the man whispered to you in a dangerously low voice, “Don’t look back. You don’t want to see what is left of that creepy man who was staring at you all the time, do you, dear?”

Frozen on the spot, you barely nodded, your eyes not leaving Loki’s pale face as he smiled, letting go of your shoulder and touching your arm surprisingly gently instead. You heard the sounds of crying and whining, people around you scattering to the different part of the car to be as far as possible from a man in the horned helmet. But you just couldn’t move from your place, glued to your seat, an Asgardian God looming over you.

“I am grateful for you sharing your meal with me. I’d like to thank you properly,” he said softly, and you swallowed your tongue instead of letting out a loud scream. “Let’s leave on the next station. I know a few nice places in Mitte.”

___________________

Tags: @finleyjayne​ @alexakeyloveloki​  @helenaeisenhower​ @villanellevi​ @hurricanerin​ ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint​ @heeeyitskay​ @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight​

[flightfoot]

Abuse and how it plays into Identity in Tower of Nero

While abuse has played a role in previous Trials of Apollo books, and in the Greco-Roman main series as a whole, Tower of Nero digs into it most deeply.

Identity and recovery from abuse are deeply linked here, with much of the abuse recovery coming from forging an identity separate from the abuser.

Previously it mostly came up in The Hidden Oracle and The Burning Maze, with Meg’s relationship with Nero prompting Apollo to examine his own relationship with Zeus. 

Apollo knew in the back of his head that Zeus was abusing him, that his rage against the Cyclopes for creating the lightning bolt Zeus used to murder Asclepius, for instance, was him redirecting his anger onto a safer target because raging against Zeus directly was so unsafe, but he tried not to let himself think about it too much, and he tried to fool himself into thinking that Zeus DID care about him, that he loved him, at least enough that he’d help him if he saw him in trouble. 

Seeing Meg with Nero, how he manipulated her, how he subtly blamed her for anything bad that happened around her, for anything HE did, while trying to seem gentle and kind; seeing the abuse he went through reflected in this young girl led him to cope with his own abuse better. 

His experiences with abuse, with Zeus treating him as a scapegoat and ‘forcing’ him to punish Apollo if he stepped out of line, with his own feelings about the abuse and his own coping mechanisms and behavior as a result, are a useful reference for understanding and helping Meg through her experiences with Nero.

And helping her cope, separate, and try to grow after being manipulated by Nero for so long? Helps him come to terms with his own experiences.

He’s pretty explicit about the comparisons too. Like when Meg talks about how Lu used to help her pretend to kill people for Nero, helped her how she could, but Apollo’s mostly just horrified that Lu stuck around and didn’t take Meg and run... and yet part of him understood.

And are you any better? taunted a small voice in my brain. How many times have you stood up to Zeus?

Okay, small voice. Fair point. Tyrants are not easy to oppose or walk away from, especially when you depend on them for everything. (TON 57)

Lu may not have been quite as dependent on Nero as say, Meg - at least psychologically. Lu’s not a child by any means. 

But Lu’s only immortal because Nero is, and he can, presumably, revoke that. Nero provides her employment, a home, probably her entire social circle, AND he has the power and the will to go after her and anyone she cares about if she strays, if she tries to defy him. 

In those ways, her situation mirrors Apollo’s even better than Meg’s does - and while he’s angry at her for not defying Nero, he also understands. 

I suspect part of his anger and suspicion at her is also anger and suspicion of himself, for falling into a similar trap.

Still, though Lu has her own baggage with Nero, Meg’s is focused on a lot more, with how she’s grown and changed, and her desire to hang onto who she’s become while separated from Nero, to hang onto her own identity and personality and not what Nero attempted to shape her into. 

It’s to the point that she can barely comprehend who she was under him, how she used to think, what she did.

“I betrayed you once,” she said. “Right here in these woods.”

She didn’t sound sad or ashamed about it, the way she once might have. She spoke with a sort of dreamy disbelief, as if trying to recall the person she’d been six months ago. That was a problem I could relate to. (TON 114)

Meg hasn’t really changed at her core as much as Apollo has - as much as she’s gone through, she at least wasn’t much of a jerk in the first place. Well, relatively speaking, when compared to Apollo. She’s abrasive, but not much beyond that.

But she HAS changed, in large part BECAUSE she’s more able and willing to stand up for herself in ways that she couldn’t do remotely safely while with Nero. She’s broken free of his psychological hold. 

During The Hidden Oracle she was ALREADY rebelling against him, she refused to burn the woods, but... well, she DID go with him, DID believe she could change him for awhile. 

But she broke free after realizing he wouldn’t, escaped and returned to Apollo, freeing herself from Nero’s grasp once more. 

For her, I think the difference between who she was six months ago and who she is now has less to do with her actual personality and worldview - those haven’t actually changed all that much throughout the books - but just in being free, somewhat safe (well, safer emotionally at least), and genuinely cared for. To not be under Nero’s influence to the same extent.

With Apollo... well, it’s a bit different with him. Zeus wasn’t as controlling as Nero, Apollo COULD have kept his space from him before; his sister has been doing that for millennia. But he has still changed a lot, moreso than Meg did, to the point that he’s almost unrecognizeable from who he was when he first fell to earth in THO.

Newly experiencing kindness, regular affection, and just having other people care about him though? He shares that with Meg.

Not that people have never been nice to him before, that’s not the case. But to have people be nice to him who he wouldn’t think would need to be, when he’s vulnerable... there’s a reason he’s been extremely touched when that’s happened even back from THO, and in this book he breaks down pretty much every time.

Meg struggles with needing to retain her independence, the new sense of herself she’s acquired during her journey with Apollo.

“I have to go back,” Meg insisted. “I have to see if I’m strong enough.”

Peaches cuddled up next to her as if he had no such concerns.

Meg patted his leafy wings. “Maybe I’ve gotten stronger. But when I go back to the palace, will it be enough? Can I remember to be who I am now and not… who I was then?”

I didn’t think she expected an answer. But it occurred to me that perhaps I should be asking myself that same question.

Since Jason Grace’s death, I’d spent sleepless nights wondering if I could keep my promise to him. Assuming I made it back to Mount Olympus, could I remember what it was like to be human, or would I slip back into being the self-centered god I used to be?

Change is a fragile thing. It requires time and distance. Survivors of abuse, like Meg, have to get away from their abusers. Going back to that toxic environment was the worst thing she could do. And former arrogant gods like me couldn’t hang around other arrogant gods and expect to stay unsullied.

But I supposed Meg was right. Going back was the only way to see how strong we’d gotten, even if it meant risking everything. (TON 114-115)

Meg needs to keep her identity she’s created for herself away from Nero. But her question about remembering to be who she is now versus who she was back then fits Apollo’s conundrum better, something that is clearly not lost on Apollo.

I knew my anxiety about my own weakness was getting mixed up with my anxiety about Meg. Even if I somehow made my way back to Mount Olympus, I didn’t trust myself to hold onto the important things I’d learned as a mortal. That made me doubt Meg’s ability to stay strong in her old toxic home.

The similarities between Nero’s household and my family on Mount Olympus made me increasingly uneasy. The idea that we gods were just as manipulative, just as abusive as the worst Roman emperor… Surely that couldn’t be true.

Oh, wait. Yes, it could. Ugh. I hated clarity. (TON 225-226)

Meg’s captured, being fully under Nero’s influence once more, with him trying to twist everything to be Apollo’s or Meg’s faults, trying to twist it so that every bit of distress that he puts Meg through is somehow the fault of her or her allies.

She picked up the chair and threw it across the room - but not at Nero. It whanged off the window, leaving a smudge but no cracks. I caught the flicker of a smile on Nero’s face - a smile of satisfaction - before his expression fixed back into a mask of sympathy. “Yes, dear. This anger comes from guilt. You led Apollo here. You understood what that meant, what would happen. But you did it anyway. That must be so painful... knowing you brought him to his end (TON 235)

This kind of manipulation is Nero’s trademark, he uses it for most of the book. Telling Meg what she’s feeling, telling her that she’s feeling this way because of something wrong SHE did, not because of the horrible things NERO did. Trying to rewrite her reality to fall in line with what HE wants her to believe, to think.

Nero makes her change clothes, has her scrub up, even has her get a pedicure. 

Normally this would sound like a good thing. But it’s just one of the ways he tries to rewrite who she is, to break her sense of identity and replace it with one more to his liking. By taking away things that showed her own personal style, he took away reminders of who she is, as well as showing his ability to exert control over her, make her believe she has no choices.

My heart broke. Meg looked elegant, older, and quite beautiful. She also looked utterly, completely no longer herself. Nero had tried to strip away everything she had been, every choice she’d made, and replace her with someone else - a proper young lady of the Imperial Household. (TON 285-286) 

Nero continues to try to twist the circumstances, to brainwash Meg into believing that he’s her savior and Apollo and the others may harm her. But Apollo keeps protesting, leading to this scene:

I tried to contain my horror. “Meg,” I said. “There’s only one person you need to listen to here: yourself. Trust yourself.”

I meant it, despite all my doubts and fears, despite all my complaints over the months about Meg being my master. She had chosen me, but I had also chosen her. I did trust her - not in spite of her past with Nero, but because of it. I had seen her struggle. I’d admired her hard-won progress. I had to believe in her for my own sake. She was - gods help me - my role model. (TON 293)

Ultimately, MEG’S the one who decides. Who fights back. Because she was able to listen to herself, to not be twisted by Nero’s lies and deceptions.

“I didn’t kill my father,” she said, her voice small and hard. “I didn’t cut off Lu’s hands or enslave those dryads or twist us all up inside.” She swept a hand towards the other demigods of the household. “You did that, Nero. I hate you.” (TON 295)

This was the tipping point. When she announced, to herself and everyone else, the truth. The reality. Rejecting Nero’s attempts to rewrite it.

Nero hissed. “Ungrateful child. The Beast-”

“The Beast is dead.” Meg tapped the side of her head. “I killed it.” (TON 311)

I notice here she tapped the side of her head. Of course, she didn’t literally kill The Beast; Nero’s still alive after all.

But The Beast was a psychological trick Nero used on Meg, to make her separate him into two people; the ‘nice’ stepfather, and The Beast that takes over and punishes if she misbehaves. 

She ‘killed’ it, because she killed the concept.

There was never a Beast.

There was only ever Nero.

And now that she’s gotten out from under his thumb? She reasserts her own identity.

Meg had thrown away her sandals, braving bare feet despite the arrows, rubble, bones, and discarded blades that littered the floor. Someone had given her an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, which she’d put on over her dress, making her allegiance clear. She still looked older and more sophisticated, but she also looked like my Meg. (TON 323)

I like the emphasis on how she looks older, but also like herself. She looks like what Nero made her into still, in a way - she’s still wearing that dress after all - but she’s made it her own, integrated herself into it.

It nicely parallels Apollo’s own situation, with needing to integrate who he’s become as Lester, who he’s grown to be, with his godly identity. Because things WILL be different once he’s a god again; he’ll have power he doesn’t have now, will have exposure to other gods that he doesn’t currently have. So he needs to figure out how to handle that, how to be a god, how to be Apollo while not losing what he’s gained as Lester.

Even if I survived, I would not be the same. The best I could hope for was to emerge from Delphi with my godhood restored, which was what I had wanted and dreamed about for the past half a year. So why did I feel so reluctant about leaving behind the broken, battered form of Lester Papadopolous? (TON 327)

Like Meg was, Apollo’s struggling to get ahold of his own identity before he has to face his abuser again, has to re-enter that old toxic environment. He fears that if the trappings of “Lester” are destroyed, then like with Nero changing Meg’s clothes, that he’ll lose part of his connection to who he’s become.

As Apollo fights Python, his mortal body becomes less and less mortal, bringing him into an in-between, in-flux state that mirrors his internal identity crisis.

“YOU CAN’T HIDE!” Python bellowed. “YOU ARE NO GOD!”

This pronouncement hit me like a bucket of ice water. It didn’t carry the weight of prophecy, but it was true nonetheless. At the moment, I wasn’t sure what I was. I certainly wasn’t my old godly self. I wasn’t exactly Lester Papadopolous either. My flesh steamed. Pulses of light flickered under my skin, like the sun trying to break through storm clouds. When had that started?

I was between states, morphing as rapidly as Python himself. I was no god. I would never be the same old Apollo again. But in this moment, I had the chance to decide what I would become, even if that new existence only lasted a few seconds.

The realization burned away my delirium.

“I won’t hide,” I muttered. “I won’t cower. That’s not who I will be.” (TON 339-340)

Like with Meg before, he’s deciding, affirming for himself what kind of person he is now, who he wants to be, different from who he was before.

Even during the fight with Python, some small part of him hopes Zeus will intervene, will see he’s done enough and help him, save him. But here, that instinct is quashed for the final time.

I had done my best. Surely, Zeus would see that and be proud. Maybe he would send down a lightning bolt, blast Python into tiny pieces, and save me!

As soon as I thought this, I realized how foolish it was. Zeus didn’t work that way. He would not save me anymore than Nero had saved Meg. I had to let go of that fantasy. I had to save myself. (TON 341)

Much like with how Meg hoped back near the beginning of the series that Nero really would change, really was a good person deep down, Apollo kept up the hope in early entries that Zeus DID care about him and would come to save him at any moment. And even in later books, heck, even in THIS book, with Meg still calling Nero her stepfather a few times and the part of Apollo hoping that Zeus will intervene now, it’s hard to break the desire, the belief that that person who SHOULD care about you, surely will now.

But both of them break past that. Meg calls Nero out, rejects his attempts to rewrite reality, and Apollo kills the idea that Zeus might intervene on his behalf.

By the time Apollo’s a god again, he has a firm bead on the kind of person Zeus is, as well as the type of environment Mt. Olympus is, with most of his family just watching his trials and tribulations, everything he and his friends went through, and betting on the outcome. Only Artemis and Hera seemed to take things seriously, seemed to deeply care whether he lived or died.

Not that the others could have interfered against Zeus’s wishes.

As much as we pretended to be a council of twelve, in truth we were a tyranny. Zeus was less a benevolent father and more an iron-fisted leader with the biggest weapons and the ability to strip us of our immortality if we offended him. (TON 366)

Apollo just kind of hangs back for the council session, having little to say to anyone except Artemis, not caring much about what the other Olympians thought, and not really feeling like one of them as a whole. Though that was true even before he actually walked into the room.

I remembered my dream of the throne room - the other Olympians gambling on my success or failure. I wondered how much money they’d lost.

What could I possibly say to them? I no longer felt like one of them. I wasn’t one of them. (TON 358)

And finally, the long-awaited confrontation scene with Zeus. It wasn’t long. It wasn’t flashy. Unlike Meg, he couldn’t attack and get rid of his abuser, couldn’t get out from under his influence entirely. Zeus is King of the Gods; realizing that he’s an abusive asshole doesn’t change that.

But he COULD change his own response to the situation.

My father coughed into his fist. “ I know you think your punishment was harsh, Apollo.”

I did not answer. I tried my best to keep my expression polite and neutral.

“But you must understand,” Zeus continued, “only you could have overthrown Python. Only you could have freed the Oracles. And you did it, as I expected. The suffering, the pain along the way… regrettable, but necessary. You have done me proud.”

Interesting how he put that: I had done him proud. I had been useful in making him look good. My heart did not melt. I did not feel that this was a warm-and-fuzzy reconciliation with my father. Let’s be honest: some fathers don’t deserve that. Some fathers aren’t capable of it.

I suppose I could have raged at him and called him bad names. We were alone. He probably expected it. Given his awkward self-consciousness at the moment, he might even have let me get away with it unpunished.

But it would not have changed him. It would not have made anything different between us.

You cannot change a tyrant by trying to out-ugly him. Meg could never have changed Nero, any more than I could change Zeus. I could only try to be different than him. Better. More… human. And to limit the time I spent around him to as little as possible. (TON 367-368)

Apollo just... let go of any attachment to Zeus. It reminded me of the Cumaen SIbyl, with how she forgave Apollo for her own sake, how Apollo felt that he himself was being erased by that. 

This isn’t a reconciliation; this is simply Apollo putting Zeus as far behind him as possible and trying to let him take up as little space in his life as he can. He may not be able to cut all ties to him, but he can at least minimize his connection to him, his influence over him.

In the end, Apollo doesn’t even really consider what he went through to be a punishment; not really.

To be honest, though, I could no longer consider my time on Earth a punishment. Terrible, tragic, nearly impossible… yes. But calling it a punishment gave Zeus too much credit. It had been a journey - an important one I made for myself, with the help of my friends. I hoped… I believed that the grief and pain had shaped me into a better person. I had forged a more perfect Lester from the dregs of Apollo. I would not trade those experiences for anything. And if I had been told I had to be Lester for another hundred years… Well, I could think of worse things. At least I wouldn’t be expected to show up at the Olympian solstice meetings. (TON 373)

Like with his conversation with Zeus, he’s minimizing Zeus’s control, his influence over himself and his life. 

And in the end, Apollo leaves Mt. Olympus as soon as he can to spend time with all the new friends he’s made, away from the toxic influences of Olympus and of Zeus especially. Reaffirming his new identity, his new self by appearing in his Lester form, the form he’d grown in, that he’d forged for himself.

I just really love how in-depth Tower of Nero went, especially with the way it emphasized the identity manipulation and erasure involved with some kinds of abuse.