#comics always stretch the art muscles that I never use

[abyranss]

Fan art for a RWBY fic I'm quite enjoying called Red Sky at Night in which Penny gets hacked before the events of the series, Winter is working to get her back, and Ruby first encounters Penny at Torchwick's dust robbery and notices that something is wrong.

I spent a day designing the look of Penny based on the description given before I made the main piece, so here's that too!

[hamishpetersen]

Goldfish Bowl

Text commissioned for the inaugural exhibition at Wave Project Space, Ōtepoti Dunedin:

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A post shared by Wave Project Space (@waveprojectspace.otepoti)

Listen to “So Tough” by The Slits. Make a cup of weak tea just to keep your hands warm and look out the only window in the living room. Doesn’t get much sun in April. Less in May, this side of the valley. You try not to check your notifications. You try to sit still. It’s not easy.

James Varga’s pictures form a haphazard diary to the last eighteen months. Starting with a return to their childhood pencil copies of cartoons, Varga began drawing again. It was a way to record the important parts of their world, or process the emotional soup through which we each wade. Rather than making pictures to “say something,” painting became a practice of picturing the world Varga needed to see. Similarly, they use their mother’s surname to claim that part of themselves.   

The difference between a diary and an autobiography is the audience. “What should my reader know?” “Does anyone ever need to see this?”

Listen to “Identity” by X-ray Spex. There is a picture of Varga’s legs stretching out to a sunburnt Alexandra backyard. Dead washing machine and semi-rural ¼ acre dream detritus. There is a picture of chopped fish and fish heads. If you know, you know. Being Tauiwi or Tangata Tiriti in Te Wai Pounamu can be full of placelessness; being anywhere at all down here can feel like the wrong place to be. Sometimes, we blame ourselves. Varga’s POV pictures evoke this feeling of waiting around for something to make sense. But pictures like that of the dish of fish heads have a different effect; like the sour umami of a fish head soup on a table of boiled hams and carrots; finding what you were looking for. 

Listen to “Pay to Cum” by Bad Brains. Varga adds a generous cock to a pencil drawing of one of their friends. For a laugh? Or because it needed to be said? In my brief conversation with Varga, it’s clear they are trying to cut through the absurd violence of masculine performance. There is a CD case for John Rowles’ “HITS collection” on the floor in the photo Kari sends me. It’s beside a painting of a milk bottle and some pencil sketches of muscled butts. 

Pay to write, pay to play

Pay to cum, pay to fight

Listen to “Product of My Environment” by Circle Jerks. There is a picture of a scrotum driving a tank. Like anyone, Varga’s mind wanders. Even when resisting the internet as subject matter or medium, the testicular posturing and violence of the recent invasion of Ukraine brought these globally televised politics into Varga’s pictures. Whether the picture is literal and figurative, or abstracted, comical, and political, Varga’s work seems to always be an act of processing, never solved. 

On Zoom, Varga and I talk about displaying the pictures like a “salon hang,” recalling the Salon exhibitions of the Academie des Beaux Arts in Paris where all the paintings accepted to the institution’s annual exhibition were crammed onto the walls. There’s an irony here for Varga as a self-taught artist. This antiquated mode of display can function in the opposite way to exclusive salons; more like an over-stimulating information soup, or endless Tiktok Trending page.

The high and the low are artificially separated in much of daily life. Instead, just as the punk poets Viv Albertine or Poly Styrene did, we are all cataloguing the boring, normal, enraging, hopeless, loving, small, vital, and forgettable moments of life in our own ways. Varga will keep going whether you’re looking or not. It’s one way of pushing through the clouds.  

[blahkugo]

𝟕 ༒ 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔱 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔡𝔲𝔩𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔶

⤷ dirty valentine m.list

⤷ complete hq m.list

wakatoshi ushijima — adultery / cucking

a/n: fucked around and made this kinda sad </3 that wasn’t in the plan but oh well

wc: 2.2k

tw: infidelity (obviously), exhibitionism / car sex, (1) forced orgasm, sadness (lmaooo)

“We can’t.”

It’s a phrase constantly crawling on the tip of your tongue—whispered beneath the flickering lights of club bathrooms or dimly-lit restaurant tables, sighed in grimy alleyways, and whined beneath stolen sheets. They’re words that exist everywhere, but always, always in the dark.

In the dark, it doesn’t feel so wrong.

“Stop it,” you hiss, swatting at the grabby hands on your hips. You ignore the fact that you allow his fingers to graze you for a second too long, pretend that his every touch is meaningless, does nothing to set your skin on fire or send your heart beating out of its cage.

Unapologetic and unyielding, it seemed ‘Toshi never quite understood the concept of personal space when it came to you. Even as kids, it was always welcomed; not once did you think him a nuisance. Not after a long night of too much tequila, when you crawled into bed together at age 17, not when you awoke the next morning enveloped in the larger man’s warm embrace, and not even when it happened again—and again, and again, and again.

‘Strictly sexual,’ you’d assert, huddled around a group of high school friends pressed for dirty details, but even then you didn’t believe it. Because the truth is plain as day: you’re in love with him.

But you are not in love with the ring on his left hand, four fingers down.

That same bejeweled digit grips your waist beneath the table right now, kneading and tickling at slick skin. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t have to, because his hand knows you’ll be there. Always there, always trembling, while your eyes flit back and forth between the side of his head and the door—feigning innocence while knowing his wife is just a few rooms away.

“I said stop, ‘Toshi,” your voice betrays you, hitching with every tap of his fingers. Though he finally turns to meet your eyes, he doesn’t slow or halt his movements, just stares unblinking for a long while.

It’s a feat not many attempt—the art of the long, fixed stare—yet, Ushijima has perfected it. And it would drive you absolutely insane if you didn’t know that with the towering man, there is no deceit in that gaze; what you see is what you get.

“We’re leaving,” his words come slow, but stern. And before you can utter a word of disagreement, he’s already got his coat on, his keys clinking in the palm of his hands. He doesn’t bother with her, simply calls to the other room, “I’ll be back love.”

She doesn’t question it, never does, but if it’s because she doesn’t want to or he never gives her the chance, you’re not quite sure. Either way, you’ve decided you don’t have the time to care, because you’re already out the door and in his sleek, black Escalade before you can bat an eye.

The ride back to your place is silent, as much of your time is with Ushijima now. It’s not a terrible predicament, might even be comfortable, but you can’t deny the slight turn in your gut when you glance towards him.

Is it guilt? Is it knowing precisely what will happen the moment he halts the car in a shaded area—always a shaded area, even when the sun is down—and bores into you once more with those olive eyes?

Or is it just anticipation?

You know the truth too well to lie. It’s felt it in every clench of your thighs, every gaze at hulking biceps as one hand grips the steering wheel, and every slow inch of his free hand up your thigh. He rubs soft circles into the skin mindlessly, a motion he’s too used to doing to think immoral.

But it is, or it should be. Because Ushijima knows exactly how this is going to end, knows that same hand will be picking at forbidden fruit before long—delving into a sweet nectar even Adam and Eve wouldn’t dare lay a finger on.

“You can just let me out here,” you attempt to avoid the inevitable, only to be ignored. He walks you up to your apartment, always does. Ushijima’s a man of honor, after all. Shows honor to his teammates, to his body, to his poor, sweet wife waiting at home; he’s just so good like that, you know?

You’re not in love with your fingers when they’re a prickly green, clenched against the cold leather seat.

Once he parks in a tight corner, far from any night owl neighbor’s prying eyes, he finally turns to you again. Maybe it’s the moon, the soft wisps of light that seem to strike him at the perfect angles, or perhaps it’s the devil’s sweet temptation—the simple knowledge that he wants it too. You’re not quite sure, but you can’t help yourself anymore.

Not when you climb across your seat and into his lap, not when you wrap your arms around him and pull close, and especially not when you nuzzle into his neck, inhaling enough pine and patchouli—the cologne he’s been wearing since you complimented it so many years ago—to last you for years to come.

“Missed you,” you exhale into warm skin.

“I see you everyday.”

“Still missed you.” And though Ushijima doesn’t say much, his arms pull you in just a bit tighter—and it says enough.

Before you know it, your nuzzles become open mouthed kisses, frantically peppered across the golden skin of his neck. There’s not enough time, never enough time, to appreciate Ushijima for what he’s worth.

But you try your damned hardest, sucking the skin just hard enough to elicit sharp inhales, but never to leave marks of your worship. This is the devil’s game after all, tempting you just enough to become enamored while knowing he’s not yours.

When he wraps a hand around your neck to tug you away, your stomach drops with disappointment for a moment. This is it, the moment you’ve always dreaded; Ushijima’s ready to end this crime of passion and go back to being the dutiful husband he is. But he only uses the movement to smash your lips together, to situate his broad arms at your hips, your waist, the little dip at the small of your back.

Ushijima’s kisses are much like his presentation to the world—sturdy, unwavering, stable. He isn’t sloppy or especially fervent like you are, clinging to him with need. His makeouts are a reassurance, a tiny pocket of home. Still, his body seems to betrays that show of strength, goosebumps running up the sides of his arms as you graze them, chest heaving while his tongue runs across your teeth and settles into yours.

“Take it off,” he snaps the waistband of your sweats, watchful eyes roaming the small stretch of skin. It’s a simple command, one that you follow happily, wiggling out of your clothing with a few soft giggles.

Your hands dart beneath his shirt, lightly scratching at the solid muscle that seems to tense beneath your touch. “You too,” you murmur between pecks, and when he doesn’t comply, “please.”

As soon as his chest is visible, you’re on him. It’s a feeling you can never get enough of, the smooth expanse of his pecks beneath your lips, licking and suckling at any inch you can get your mouth on. It’s fun, addicting even, but ‘Toshi’s reaction is what truly makes it worthwhile.

His breath hitches all at once, legs stiffening beneath you as fingernails dig crescents into your waist. Experimentation in college taught you that if you lick at his nipples, he might even let out a soft moan or two. And the sound makes you keen with desire, even if it is a bit comical (who’d have known the big, Adonis of a man likes getting his chest played with?)

For a brief moment, you wonder if she knows, before quickly dispelling the thought. This is your time with him, and besides–

“Oh– fuck,” you whine, brought back by Ushijima’s long middle finger grazing your slit. “Again.”

This time, you don’t have to say please.

Despite the lack of space, he takes his time sinking his fingers into you and—given the length you’re about to be taking—you appreciate the deed. He works you open, pumping you with a single digit before adding another.

Those lithe fingers don’t let up until you’re shaking, gripping his shoulders, mumbling prayers and curses into his skin. Every circle at your clit makes you gasp, every squelch of his fingers curling inside your tight cunt only makes you wetter.

“Let go,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, waiting oh-so patiently, even as his cock strains against your ass. Once, when he’d drunk enough to become uncharacteristically vocal, he’d confessed his favorite feeling was your ‘warm hole clenching around him’ when you reached your peak.

It’s that sudden memory that makes you shake your head, exhaling a distressed ‘nuh uh’ while he continues pressing into you. Ushijima’s eyebrows furrow in confusion before he ticks his jaw, the thumb on your clit simply moving faster to expel—what he thinks is—a sudden burst of brattiness. “I said,” he presses at the spot that makes your stomach drop, “cum.”

“Wait- ah, fuck– fuck!” Try as you might, you can’t stop the wave of pleasure that washes over you, your toes curling, head resting on his shoulder to steady yourself as you ride out your high. All the while, his fingers never stop moving, free hand shifting to stroke at your sweat-soaked hair while you tremble and clutch at him with shaky arms.

When he finally lets up, you remove your face from the crook of his neck, looking to Ushijima once more only to find him staring. His eyes are glassy, pupils blown over so heavily with lust, it lights you with a fervor and—as is the hulking man’s usual effect on you—you find yourself unable to think before moving.

You’re frenzied, kissing him once more, carding fingers through his hair, and tugging hard enough to elicit sharp gasps. You’re never quite so aggressive with him, typically leaving the dominance of it all to your insatiable counterpart, but the guttural moan that leaves his lips when you unsheath him only spurs you further.

“I wanted to ride you,” you speak while lining his cock against your slick cunt, “wanted to feel you inside me before I came.”

And with that simple sentence, your little moment of power comes to a close. Ushijima sinks into you with one quick movement, stretching you in a way that makes your skin burn and your gut heavy. Your arms are quickly bound behind you by his own, used as mere handles to pull you down against him with every thrust.

Even as you cry out, faint mumbles mounting to incoherent wails, there doesn’t seem to be any sort of reprieve. The air is thick, humid, filled with Ushijima’s low grunts, subtle curses, and the ever-enticing command to ‘stop whining and fucking take it.’

You know he doesn’t typically speak this way, knows that he says it for you and you alone—that he loves the way it makes your eyes widen and your mouth slacken, thighs snapping closed as you attempt to hold off for just a bit longer. It never works, because he knows you just as well. Every inch of your body feels empty when his hands aren’t roaming them, when he isn’t tweaking a finger against your pebbled nipples or running a warm palm up the small of your waist.

“Close?” He grunts, throwing his head back against the seat, unrelenting in pace. You can do nothing but let out garbled responses, crosses between ‘God, yes,’ and disjointed cries of his name over and over again. “Go ahead,” it’s less a green light and more a command, “cum for me.”

His dirty words may be curated for you, but it’s always the honesty of his eyes that sends you over. With Ushijima, what you see is what you get, and you swear it’s love you see—pure, unadulterated, clear as day.

When you feel yourself beginning to peak, it’s his eyes, of course, that render you immobile. You can’t bring yourself to settle into the crook of his neck, to bite his shoulder or screw your face shut. There is nothing to do but to look at him—to try and master the art of the long, fixed stare as he has—and fall apart.

“Oh fuck– ‘Toshi,” your mouth can’t keep up with the pleasure washing over you, “fuck, fuck, fuck, I love you.”

They’re words you’ve never dared utter, not like this, but once they’re out you can’t seem to stop yourself. They become a mantra, a broken record, a prayer that perhaps he’ll say them right back to you. Again and again, riding out your high as you shake and tremble and exhaust yourself with the words. I love you. I love you. I love you.

But words called out in the dead of night mean nothing to the day.

[rainbowsans]

um alright,

So here’s the deal; I’m not doing okay. I’m kind of tired of pretending I’m doing okay. I’m so sorry. I never wanted y’all to worry about myself on how I’m doing and such, but the past 4 days I haven’t seen doing good. in fact, bad.

my dominant drawing hand/arm haven’t been improving, I’d like to lie and say it is but it’s not. It still hurts. my muscles are strained, as I draw my entire hand and wrist strains, making it harder to grip on the pen as I draw and it starts to shake. I was lucky to finish 3 comms the past 4 days. Resting it at night seems to help but as soon as I pick up something or use my arm it strains. I’ve gotten a brace for it; idk if braces are supposed to hurt but they do, ive done stretching constantly; no help, and I’ve gotten cream that is supposed to relief muscle/join pain: those are no help as well.

I wanna say I can power through it but the irritating feeling really bothers me as I work. even typing and holding my phone is irritating. So uh; I’ve got 10 commissions left, and 3 comics to do. October is nearly over and Ive came to a horrible realization that….I can’t do more comms. I can’t. So i won’t be able to open November comms at this rate. I’m so sorry;

Drawing is my main source of income, as my hand/arm aches I can’t do the thing that’s my main source of income. The only thing that’s gonna help me with rent and stuff is going to have to be when I publish the Paps Plush Preorder; and to top it off the shipping price for the bulk order on the junior plushies (their done btw and there’s an entire ARMY haha) are a bit pricy so they’re gonna wait until then but I’ll get that paid when I do…aka: using some of the paps plush money to do it because your guys shipping money for when I SEND it is safe and secured, no worries. it’s just getting difficult.

but um, yeah. I’m probably being over dramatic and whatnot but like; I can’t find any reason or closure in my head right now. All I’m thinking is the paranoia of what if’s and possible worse outcomes because it seems logical to me as of right now: I’ve called my clinic to request an urgent appointment so I’m waiting for a call back;;;; the sooner I see my doctor the better….

Art is my life, it’s what I love to do, to be able to not do it….that’s hell for me.

I’ve gotten to a breaking point where I hurt myself, I couldn’t sit still and relax because I wanted to do something but all the activities I wanted to do required my hands;;; it was agony to sit back and do nothing and be alone with my thoughts…..it broke me. I always strive to be productive since I fidget if I do nothing.

-sigh- to my commissioners, thank you for your patience….I’m sorry for this outcome….comms are gonna take a while for me to finish but I’ll get them done in time.

Plush buyers, you’ll get your little junior. I can assure you….just give me time as well!

uh, yeah that’s it: idk what I’m gonna do tbh; novermber comms are going to have to pass until my hand gets better or wait until the doctor tells me what’s up. there’s still time;;; I just I’m not thinking clearly.

A preorder listing for my paps plush will be up soon (the manufacturer hasn’t send me pictures yet bc the plush sample hasn’t been done yet! They’re still in the embroidery stage) but if you all dont mind me posting a listing soon if they don’t send me an update until the 26th I will still post the listing on my kofi shop…maybe; idk;;; the plush is gonna be the only thing that’s gonna help me pay the bills and the junior plush shipping order for November;;;;

but yeah….uh, that’s all. sorry. that’s all; just wanted to give you guys an upset.

[my-darling-boy]

i saw your sappho/soldiers comic and adored it! it's so beautifully done :) i'm trying to teach myself to draw, and if it's not too much effort i was wondering if you have any tips for beginners? thanks so much!

Ah thanks!

You’ve come to the right place because I’m completely self taught, I’ve been drawing ever since I could hold a pencil!

Definitely don’t be afraid to use refs, professionals use them all the time. Follow artists who inspire you, if a YouTube video pops up on your dash for a tutorial that interests you, watch it. If you get an idea, draw it, even if it’s nothing but scribbles. Let yourself make mistakes, let your art look “”bad”” let it look unprofessional. You can always go back and improve and refine. Equally, don’t feel it has to look professional or realistic: keep an eye on your own expression to develop your unique style, don’t worry about drawing like anyone else. You never stop learning as an artist, it’s lifelong.

But I’d say my biggest tip is getting acquainted with the personality of everything under the sun. I don’t mean in the technical sense, but in the feeling sense. And everything in the world has a personality, even things you can’t see.

The only way I can describe this concept is: there is a difference between drawing a circle for what one looks like and drawing a circle for what one feels like, tangibly, intangibly. When you are drawing a circle, at the tip of your fingers, at the tip of your pencil, in your wrist, in your heart, in your mind: what is a circle to you?

If I don’t know how fabric moves or how a wool coat sits on someone’s shoulders versus a leather coat, I put both on myself or look of refs and get familiar with how this object moves. How thick the fabric is. How it drapes itself. What shapes make up this object. I’m not studying concrete lines or technique but motion and mass, weight. I feel over textiles, crinkle them, stretch them, look at individual threads, how it’s made.

Sometimes I’ll hold my arm out for an arm reference and close my eyes and run my hand down my arm to feel the direction of my limb and fingers, the curves and dips. In the mirror, I over exaggerate my stance for refs, letting emotion dictate how fluid or stiff it’s to be. I take videos of me running to understand not just the one frame of running I want to draw, but how a person even ends up there, what running looks like, where weight shifts and muscles tense and ease. I’ll make a face and not only look at it in a mirror, but I’ll run my fingers over the valleys in my forehead or trace my fingers over my smile, feeling for the shape, not just looking visually for it.

What does happiness feel like on a face? Sadness? How tight are fists if you are angry versus when you’re victorious? How does a smile change if it’s natural or forced? A tiny change in a line can make all the difference.

Doing this has helped breathe a LOT more life and personality into my art. It becomes a form of expression of myself directly. One can have all the classical training in the world, even have a degree in art, but if you don’t understand the feeling of your art, the emotion of your art, the you that is present in your art, it’s only going be a collection of lines and colours, no matter if it looks like a simple circle or the Mona Lisa.

[felicia-parker]

Prompt: 01 - “No, come back!”  Fandom: dcau/dc comics  (the huntress/the question) Rating: T TW: none.

He often forgets how Gotham really smells when he returns. It smells like a mix of industrial pollution, brackish water from the harbors, and nothing at all like Hub City. He leaves the train with his head ducked down, hat on his head, no one notices him anyways in the flurry of snow falling in the city for the first time all year. People are already complaining of scraping driveways come morning, but he ignores them all as he passes. His mask is balled up in his pocket, bare face being kissed by flurries. It makes his cheeks match his hair. Vic shoves his hands in his pockets, feeling for his gloves and hastily shoving them on his quickly numbing fingers. 

“I should call…” He mutters to himself, “that’s what you do.” 

He tries to pull up the social cues she has so painstakingly drilled into him on the last six months, twenty-one days, fourteen hours, and thirty-five minutes. She reminds him to call since he refuses to text, there’s too many hands those messages could fall into, cell phones aren’t safe but the Government is slowly killing the payphones making his anonymity harder and harder. Helena gave him a phone, sleek and black, the screen already has a chip from him dropping it after a night of scrolling internet sleuthing led to him falling asleep in his favorite chair, the phone becoming victim to the floor. He only has one contact in it,  one photo, no messages, one voice mail saved-- she had pocket dialed him, her useless mutterings forever recorded on his digital answering machine.

He listens to it when the nights get a little too long and the trains stop running.

Vic pulls out the phone and double taps the little screen. It illuminates amongst the darkness of the city and he stops on the sidewalk to quickly type in a code too long for anyone to memorize, before turning it back off and stuffing it down in his pocket. He decides he doesn’t need to call. If he has anyone tailing him, they can’t know where he’s going. Vic glances over his shoulder.

The paranoia is getting a little worse, but Helena doesn’t seem to mention it anymore. She just sighs and reminds him of how many ‘bad guys’ she’s tossed into gutters. It doesn’t soothe him like she thinks it does, but he lets her brag until she’s content. He crosses the street right over the crosswalk which leads him into a burrow of the city. Tall buildings are illuminated with door lights and street lights that seem to stretch on for an eternity. All of the buildings look the same, except every other one has another color slapped onto the brick. They are all cookie-cutter, cheap apartments, ones that the working class usually fill.

He walks until his feet start to ache, the old dress shoes he’s wearing are worn down, dried blood is caked on the underside of the heels, excellent for remaining invisible, poor for snowy nights in a city that didn’t particularly belong to him.  Vic stops outside of a light gray building on the corner and begins to count the windows. On the sixth floor he sees the light on, the fire escape is decorated with a dying plant and nothing else, window closed and curtains open.  When a shadow passes by the glass, his heart skips a beat and he glances up to the sky overhead. The clouds are thick and dark, no moon, no infamous signal in the sky.

He breathes a sigh of relief and begins to climb. The old iron squeaks every few steps, he notes the rust on the third floor and makes a mental note to not put too much weight there on his way back down and climbs until his breath clouds the window of the sixth floor, corner apartment. The edges of her window are slick with moisture, she must have cooked tonight, filled her apartment with the heat of the kitchen as she worked. His gloved fingers trace over the sill and he moved to lift the glass.  It didn’t budge. She had locked it for once.

The sound of the television vibrates against the window and he peers in with hands cupped around his face to see her stretched out on the couch, papers everywhere, red pen between her lips as she holds a paper above her head. Her hair is spilling over the couch in wave of dark curls and he marvels in the simplicity of it all. She looks absolutely normal.

Helena is anything but normal. He knows this. He dares to even love such an idea, of this woman who is an unstoppable force with no concept of white and black, her world is shades of gray and personal vendettas.  Helena stretches once more on the couch, taking the red pen from her mouth to mark something on the paper with ease.  

He knocks, the pen goes wild over the page as she all but throws herself off of the couch and onto the floor. A momentary flash of fear crosses her face, followed by anger as she pulls her pen up like mini dagger, set to throw it with deadly precision at the window when she recognizes the outline of him. Her shoulders sag and she stomps over to the window. In one quick yank the glass comes up and he’s met with the lingering smell of homemade food, warm and tinged with garlic, but all of it is forgotten as she shouts at him with her voice sharper than any knife.

“You’re supposed to call! I gave you a phone Q!” Helena’s cheeks are flushed red, her teeth are clenched tightly together and he can see the muscle in her jaw is strained. Anger radiates from her form.

“I wanted to…”

“No!” She shouts the word and slams the window back down in his face. It’s a miracle the glass stays in place. She keeps her hand on the window, glaring at him when he takes the step back to leave. A minute ticks by and then a second, a third, and finally he backs up to go back down the escape, shoulders slumping. He should have called, he should have warned her, should have asked if she even wanted to see him after being apart for so long.

His foot touches down on the ladder when he hears the window open back up, “No, come back!”

Her voice isn’t as angry and this time her hand reaches into the cold for his. She manages to grab hold of his coat sleeve, pulling him impatiently over the threshold. Vic stumbles a bit, but once he’s inside she closes the window behind him, putting the lock in place before grabbing at his coat again. Helena is far from gentle. She pulls at his coat until he’s leaning over, close enough for her mouth to find his. She kisses him until he’s gasping for air, until he has to pull back to recover his bearings.

His eyes glance over her  living quarters,  there’s a half-decorated tree in the corner where her desk usually sits, the desk now stowed away for the holidays no doubt, leading to all the school papers being strewn across her coffee table and couch, markers and highlighters all around. The television drones on and on with the nightly news bleeding into a late night talk-show.

“Am I…” He clears his throat, “Not welcome?”

“Don’t be an idiot.” She waves a hand at him, reaching behind him to pull the blinds down, drawing the curtains for privacy. “I just wish you would use that phone.”

“Trackable.”

“Yeah, that’s why I got it for you. I’d like to know when you’re coming here. It’s not like we have…” It’s her turn to trail off and she walks to the kitchen as she does so, opening the fridge and pulling out the leftovers of her dinner to warm up for him. He doesn’t tell her no. Vic learned a long time ago to never reject food from her.  Helena mutters something else and slides the homemade plate of lasagna into the microwave.

“Are you listening?” She asks him.

“Yes. No set schedule.” He nods to her and stands still for a minute too long, feeling like an obscure piece of furniture in her little home. His own home is empty, soulless, untraceable.  Hers is full of art, plates, second-hand furniture, and little things here and there that just fit the woman in the kitchen.

The microwave dings as she’s pulling a glass out of the cabinet and setting him a place at her kitchen bar, “Come, eat.”

He eats like a starving man. A home cooked meal is such a rarity in his life, something he only gets when Helena is around. She refuses to eat an abundance of ready-to-eat frozen meals, instead spending hours in the grocery store to find fresh ingredients, an unnecessary thing in his world.  Helena pours herself another glass of wine, gives him one too but he only sips that, going back to scraping the fork over the plate until it’s all gone.

“Thank you,” He murmurs the soft appreciation, he no longer feels cold, but warmed from the inside out. She crosses behind him and pulls at his coat. Vic lets his arms go limp, lets her pull his coat away. She takes his hat too and hangs both by the door, coming back to pull him free from the bar stool, drawing him towards her couch for more comfort. He lets her lead him around. He can’t seem to stop his feet from following her. He would follow her to the edges of space, hell, and everything in between, but can’t seem to say the words to her. Instead he settles for the silence between them. She sets him on the couch, pulls the blanket from the back of it and tucks it over his shoulders, kisses the top of his hair before making it messy with a ruffle of her fingers.

“I always forget how bright red…” She snickers softly, teasing him for not wearing the mask, for giving himself over to her with no second skin to block the way.

Vic tilts his head up to her own, frowning slightly, “Would you prefer the mask?”

“Don’t be an idiot.” She repeats the words from earlier. Her brows knitting together in concern before she crosses in front of him and takes the place next to him on the couch, gathering up more papers to grade, “Don’t ask that question again.”

“Can I ask another?” He turns his head over, watching her pull her legs up, tucking them under her, pen cap already in her mouth as she begins going down the line of questions, looking for the incorrect answers.

“Mhm,” She hums softly, not glancing up at him. Instead she runs the pen over the top, making a perfect one-hundred in a little loop, following with a little star at the corner of the page. He watches her work with ease, moving onto the next page with her little red pen on the hunt of mistakes.

His mouth forms the words, “Can I stay?”

Her pen scratches an ‘x’ over an answer. He waits for her to put an ‘x’ on him as well, but she does no such thing.  

“I was expecting you to,” she doesn’t look up from the papers still, “I hope you’ll stay for a while.”

Helena shifts now, moving to lay her back against his side, “You hope or want?”

“Does it make a difference to you?”

“Yes.” He answers her matter-of-factly. He wants to hear her say the words. Vic wants her to say she wants him to stay, wants him to be with her even if it’s for such a short time. Christmas is four days away, three nights, he can make the train on the fourth, be back in Hub before she grows too used to his body in her bed.

“Then,” Helena shifts again, this time picking his arm up and sliding under it, she lays now half against him on the couch with her legs stretched to the other end, she smells of floral shampoo and ink, “I want you to stay, but you have to actually stay. You can’t skip breakfast.”

Vic takes a moment as she makes herself comfortable against him before he fully relaxes. He lets his arm slide over her stomach and pulls her into him until there’s no space left, she’s draped comfortably into the curve of him, papers to grade in her hand. His hand twitches for the remote, to turn away from the channel of mind-numbing late-night television, enjoying the warmth of her finally returning to him after months of being away.

“I think I want to stay.”

She marks another one-hundred across the top of the page, adds a little star to the corner before tilting her head back against his chest, the word leaves her with a soft sigh and a curve of her lips, “Stay.”

[mexicancat-girl]

must be dreaming

Yet another MarcNath fic for #MLPrideFest2020 and Pride Month.

AO3: Link, 3k words.

Summary: Nathaniel dreams about Marc. He thinks it’s just a fluke. His older sister thinks otherwise.

.

...

“I must be dreaming, or,

We’re onto something…”

- - - - -

Nathaniel felt calm, and listless, totally at peace.

He was lying on his back, soft grass between his fingertips.

Above him stood a tree, branches stretching out wide. The branches were full to bursting with leaves, casting down shade. Sunlight dappled through the leaves, gold and red dancing behind his eyelids whenever they fluttered closed.

The place felt indistinct. Maybe he was lost, deep inside a grand forest. Maybe he was just lying down at a park. He wasn’t sure.

What he was sure was that the green of the tree above him was gorgeous, a vibrant shade that sparkled and danced in the gentle wind and sunlight.

He wasn’t alone, either. His head was in someone’s lap, and they were stroking their fingers through his hair. Soft and soothing and steady.

He felt content, and safe. Loved, even.

He closed his eyes, for a long moment, and then opened them once more. The tree’s leaves were just as green as before. But so were the pair of eyes peering back at him.

Nathaniel knew those eyes, emeralds surrounded by a legion of dark, barren branches. Soft eyes, kind eyes, familiar eyes.

Nathaniel blinked, and then Marc’s face came into focus.

Marc’s face was bent over Nathaniel’s, eyes crinkled, shiny pink lips pulled into a sweet smile. Dark strands of hair framed his face like a messy hallo.

Marc looked like he fit into the scenery perfectly. He was a wood nymph, ethereally beautiful. Nearly intangible to grasp.

Except the fingers were still threading through Nathaniel’s hair, and Marc was above him, and his head was pillowed in a warm lap. All real.

It felt strange, but familiar. He’s never put his head on Marc’s lap—at least, from what he can remember. He’s also never had Marc pet his hair like this. But the motions feel natural.

Nathaniel blinks again, at Marc’s blinding smile, teeth white and gleaming. He feels fuzzy all over. But something in his chest lurches. He thinks its his heart missing a beat.

Marc’s fingers are in his hair. Marc’s smile is sweet on his kissable-pink lips. Marc’s eyes are as green as the tree leaves above them.

“Nathaniel…” Marc breathes out, voice soft. Again, his heart misses a beat once more.

Nathaniel tries to work his jaw, even though he feels lethargic and boneless and completely incapable of moving a muscle.

“Marc?” he mumbles back, just barely above a whisper.

“Nathaniel…” Marc says once more, voice a sweet coo. The sunlight gets brighter behind his head, streaking his dark hair silver.

“Mmm?” Nathaniel asks. “Yeah?”

“Wake up, Nathaniel,” Marc states, but his voice sounds strange. Distant. Lighter and higher.

“Marc…?”

“Wake up.”

The sunlight burns brighter, illuminating all of Marc’s form. He looks angelic. Ethereal.

The fingers stop combing through Nathaniel’s hair, disentangling completely from his locks. He whines, feeling the loss instantly.

“C’mon, Nath. Wake up already,” Marc insists in that suddenly-high voice, as the colors blur. The green of the trees is replaced by bright, white light. Marc’s form becomes fuzzy and indistinct, like looking through fogged glass.

Marc’s eyes are the only part of the boy that left that are in-focus, bright green and dark lashes and so full of love and admiration—

- - - - -

Nathaniel’s breath hitches, and he blinks his eyes awake.

He groans, feeling an assault of light piercing like knives. He fumbles, raising a hand to rub at his eyelids.

“Rise and shine, little lamb,” someone familiar coos. Nathaniel grumbles, blearily blinking his eyes open. The thing he catches sight of first is the wild mass of curly, red hair.

“Yeesh! You were conked out on me for hours there, bud,” his sister laughs as his eyes finally focus. She grins crookedly down at his splayed form. Her grey eyes are warm and crinkled as she gently boops him on the nose.

A surge of disappointment fills him, so overwhelming and sudden, it knocks the breath straight from his lungs.

He shouldn’t be. This is his sister, after all. Jaina was always very willing to let him sleep on her, even petting his hair in a way he really enjoyed. She knew how to get him to go to sleep, and how to be soothing on top of that.

But it wasn’t…

“How long was I ‘sleep?” Nathaniel manages to croak out past the dryness of his throat, as well as the sudden lump of disappointment, bringing up his fist to wipe off the trail of drool down his chin.

“About three hours, give or take,” is Jaina’s matter-of-fact reply.

Nathaniel just about jolts up at that. “Three—three hours?!” he yelps, sitting up and shuffling away so he can stare at his sister in mild horror. “That’s…”

“A long time, little lamb,” she agrees, smiling crookedly, full of fondness. “But you looked like you needed the sleep. I didn’t mind.”

Nathaniel still feels insurmountably guilty, no matter the assurances. He quickly wipes his hands against his jeans, nervous, gripping onto his knees.

“But—But you only visit every other weekend…” he points out, voice terribly small as he hunches into himself. It’s the truth, after all; Jaina was busy with art school. “And I just went and—and wasted that time—”

“It wasn’t a waste,” Jaina cuts in, voice firm—sharp, even. She levels her gaze on him, as solid as steel. “You could nap on me for a hundred hours, and it’d never be a waste, baby brother.”

Nathaniel sighs lengthily, fiddling with his bangs. “Still…I feel bad.”

“Don’t. It’s not like you were in the way,” she shrugs, stretching her arms above her and giving a relieved hum as her vertebrae popped loudly and wetly. Nathaniel can’t fight down wrinkling his nose at the gross noises. “If anything, you helped me focus on studying for my test on Monday.”

All he does in response is give a hum, still unconvinced and guilty.

The guilt quickly drains from him as his sister shoots him a toothy smile. “Besides…Seems like you were havin’ a pretty nice dream, there.”

“W-Was I…?” he asks, feeling a bit nervous for some reason. He flattens his bangs down, and casts his gaze to his lap.

“Mmmmhm. You were smiling up a storm. And mumbling in your sleep.”

Oh no. What the fuck did he say in his sleep…?!

“Oh, nothing much, really,” Jaina states flippantly. Nathaniel nearly chokes on his spit, realizing he’d just said his thoughts aloud. “You were just muttering out…’Marc. Maaaarc’. While smiling like a puppy getting belly rubs.”

Nathaniel squeaks, face burning. “N—Wh—what? No I wasn’t!”

“I mean, that’s what is seemed like,” Jaina drawls out, smile wholly amused, her eyes gleaming impishly. “Didn’t know you and that Marc kid were so…close.”

“I-It’s not like that!” Nathaniel blusters out, flustered, barely even realizing what he was saying.

It’s not like that…? Like what, exactly?

Jaina gives him a long, pointed look. Nathaniel feels the distinct need to melt into a puddle under her knowing gaze. What does she know that he doesn’t…?

Then Jaina laughs, loud and warm, as she reaches out a hand to ruffle his hair. Nathaniel is too off kilter to dodge her assault.

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop teasin’ you. You’re just too cute sometimes, y’know? My heart can’t handle it,” she coos, cackling he kicks at her leg in retaliation with his sock-clad feet. “Hey, hey, no need for violence now, baby brother.”

“I’ll show you violence…” he grumbles out, heaving himself to his feet. He peers around himself at the fixtures of Jaina’s old room, oddly half-barren; it was strange, not having her live in the house anymore. “Um…Thanks again, for letting me nap, though.”

“You may thank me now, but I think I’ve just messed with your sleep cycle,” is her sheepish reply. She smiles back at him apologetically. “Try not to go to bed too late, okay?”

“No guarantees, but I’ll try,” Nathaniel warns, because they both know his ADHD kicks his ass when it comes to sleeping properly. He stands awkwardly and watches as his sister gathers her things back in her bookbag. “Um. You heading back…?”

“Yeah, I prob’ly should,” his sister sighs, nearly stumbling as she tries to get up. “Gah! My legs are almost asleep, hold on—”

“Here, I’ve got you.”

Jaina proceeds to use Nathaniel as a crutch, helping her hobble to the nearby desk so she can have a more stable support structure as she shakes out her legs. Considering there’s more than a half-foot of height difference between them, it probably makes an incredibly comical sight.

“That’s what happens when I sit in one place for three hours, I guess,” she says, voice wholly bemused and airy. “Oh well.”

“Sorry again.”

“No need, no need,” she waves him off, hands on her hips as she smiles down at him.

“G’luck with school, then, little lamb,” is his sister’s parting words, before she leaves to go back to her apartment.

- - - - -

“Hey, just what d’you make me for?

I don’t fall in love lawlessly…”

- - - - -

Nathaniel’s mind whirls.

He feels…Strange. Confused. Antsy, even.

Nathaniel sits down at his desk, cracking his sketchbook open to rid his frustrations and strange feelings. It’s always worked before, so it should work now.

All he ends up drawing are trees with dappled sunlight and a pair of familiar, emerald eyes.

He slams his sketchbook closed, spooked and jittery, heart beating staccato in his chest.

What did it all mean…? Why did he dream what he did? Why was it Marc, of all people?

After all, parts of the dream were based on reality. Jaina had been soothing him, combing her fingers through his hair, his head in her lap. So why hadn’t he just dreamt of having a nice picnic or something with his sister…?

Why Marc?

Nathaniel didn’t know. All he knows is that he felt at peace in the dream. Like he was protected.

Like he was loved, even.

But, no. That had to be from Jaina, right? The feeling of love and safety and…

But it felt different than his other dreams. He’s dreamed of his family, before. Half-dreams and half-memories, where he went to the park or aquarium or Disney Paris with them. Dreams of his family having sweet times together were even more common of a theme after his parents divorced more than a year back.

This dream with Marc felt distinctly different. But Nathaniel couldn’t exactly put a finger on it…

Sighing, Nathaniel decides that maybe he should follow Jaina’s advice, and go to sleep at a decent time. Maybe more sleep will fix this.

It could all be just a fluke, after all. Just a hiccup. His brain playing tricks on him.

Nodding to himself with conviction, Nathaniel readies his things for school, and then gets ready for bed.

Just a fluke…

- - - - -

Nathaniel lets out a long sigh.

He’s glad he’s back in the Art Club room. He always feels like he can be himself, here, without judgement. It’s a warm and welcoming place.

He goes to his usual table on autopilot. Passes by Alix’s wall of half-done graffiti and doesn’t spare an extra glance at the mannequins that Marinette likes to use.

No one else is here. It’s quiet.

That’s fine. Nathaniel finds comfort in the quiet.

He stops before he can sit down, looking at the sunlight streaming through the large windows of the room, letting in natural sunlight. The room is bathed in warm gold.

Nathaniel’s now sitting, bag on the table. A voice says quietly on his left side, “Hello.”

He turns his head, smiling automatically at the sight of his friend and partner, the smile wide in his mouth. “Hey.”

Marc looks pretty today.

Granted, Marc always looks pretty. There’s never been a time where he hasn’t.

But there’s something about him right now that’s different. It’s subtle, but there. It’s highlighted by the sun streaming in through the windows, bathing him in golden light.

Marc’s hair looks windswept, but smooth and silky, strands gleaming like a velvety curtain. His cheekbones are highlighted by the natural light perfectly. His eyes look vibrant, as soft as his perfect complexion. A bit of his collarbone is exposed from his colorful t-shirt as he leans forwards, glistening pink lips pulled back into a smile with a hint of white teeth.

“I’ve been looking forwards to club time,” Marc says as if a secret, Nathaniel’s gaze enthralled by the way he ducks his head bashfully and looks up at Nathaniel through his eyelashes. “I have so many ideas to write…”

“Me too,” Nathaniel says, having to force his lips to work. For some reason, he feels speechless in the wake of his unfairly beautiful friend.

Marc smiles sweetly back at him. His lips are kissable pink. The light dances across their glossy, plush surface.

Nathaniel can’t stop looking at them.

“Nathaniel…?” Marc asks slowly. Nathaniel’s enthralled with the way those lips shape into his name, feels his heart stutter at the quiet intimacy of Marc’s voice.

“Your lips. Gloss. Look nice,” he manages to mumble, words so very hard to say.

Nathaniel manages to tear his gaze up to look at his friend’s face. Marc smiles back at him, cheeks flushed and lips a bashful smile. “Th-thank you.”

“Can…Can I try…” he trails off, not knowing how to word his request. Not even knowing what his request is, in the first place.

He just wants. The feeling washes over him, from head to toe. His chest swells, and he feels like he’s going to burst.

Marc’s emerald eyes gleam bright behind his lashes. He nods meekly, face alight, a petal pink hue. He looks cute. Very, very cute.

“I don’t have my lip gloss with me, but…” Marc trails off, voice oddly shaky. Nathaniel’s gaze zeroes in on those plush lips, enticingly pink and shiny.

Nathaniel blinks, eyes falling to half-mast. He feels hazy and content, while also feeling excited and breathless.

Marc starts to lean in. Nathaniel starts to lean in.

Closer and closer. It feels like an eternity.

Marc is haloed by the sun streaming in, eyes blazing bright with affection, his lips getting closer and closer and—

- - - - -

Nathaniel startles awake with a gasp, eyes flying open and fingers gripping knuckle-white on his sheets.

His face feels like it’s on fire. Actually, his entire body feel like it’s on fire.

Nathaniel tries to kick off his covers like a buck wild horse. The sheets cling to his sweat-slick skin, and he pants like he’s been running a marathon.

Nature’s a-knocking, much to his mortification. He very pointedly ignores that (as he’s sure as hell not going to unpack that now) to awkwardly roll over and bury his face into his pillow. He then promptly screams into said pillow, because what the fuck was that?!

What—Who—Why—Whywhywhywhywhy—

It was…It was Marc. Again. But it wasn’t…It was more than just…And then the…the lips? Leaning in? They were. They were gonna—

Fuck.

Fuck!

Nathaniel promptly buries his face into the pillow, again, and lets out another scream. While still ignoring his awkward and inconvenient half-boner that makes itself known.

No. Nononono. Nope.

He’s not going to think about it. He’s not.

He didn’t just dream—again—of his friend. He didn’t dream of—of kissing—

Ugh, he can’t even think about it…! If he does, it’ll make it all the more real!

Stupid stupid stupid. Stupid brain and stupid dreams and. And stupid Marc for being so pretty and having such nice skin and captivating eyes and nice lips—honestly, who gave him the right to be so gorgeous and sweet and funny and talented and—

Oh.

Oh no.

No. Nope. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t.

But his heart was still racing, and his breaths are still ragged, and his chest felt full to bursting with butterflies.

Every time Nathaniel closed his eyes, now, he saw Marc. Marc’s hair and eyes and neck and lips and—

Fuck.

This…This wasn’t just a fluke.

It wasn’t just a dumb dream.

His mind wasn’t playing tricks on him for laughs.

He’s…He likes Marc.

Not just like Marc, either. Nathaniel wanted to bury his head in Marc’s lap, and have Marc play with his hair, and have Marc smile at him like he was the only person around, and have Marc talk to him sweetly and familiarly, and even have Marc kiss him.

Those were all…very specific things, very specific scenarios, and very specific feelings. And none of those could be a—a fluke, or, or his brain just playing tricks on him.

Nathaniel’s had crushes before. His most recent one was on Marinette six months ago.

And even still, he never dreamed of her. Daydreamed, yes. Doodled her in his sketchbook, certainly.

But the farthest he’s ever gotten was thinking of holding her hand, or having her smile at him sweetly, or saving her as a superhero from bad guys.

Nothing ever so…realistic. Domestic. Magical. Sickeningly lovestruck.

Nathaniel didn’t just like Marc, he realized. Like any old crush of his from the past.

Nathaniel loved him.

And that was both elating and absolutely terrifying.

- - - - -

“I must be dreaming, or,

Pinch me to waking,

So undeniably yours,

As long as I’m losing it so completely…”

- - - - -

[evolutionsvoid]

Though the savannas are a rather simple looking environment, they are one that is filled with a huge amount of life. Migrating herds can cover the landscape, with fields of browsers and grazers stretching all the way to the horizon. While places like rainforests win out with diversity and the bizarre array of life, the savanna wins by the sheer amount of animals you can witness in plain sight. A fresh morning and a good chair has let me see more creatures in a single day than I have seen in months in other places! This terrestrial sea of life is truly incredible to witness, but these places aren't always packed full. You will notice odd holes and gaps in herds, or stretches of land where no herbivore wishes to step foot. In a world where being in a group is vital for survival, it is strange to see loners sitting out in the open. Usually these avoided creatures are predators, which the reason should be obvious. Some may be for massive creatures that are given a wide berth as no one wishes to be stepped on or knocked about. For one beast, though, there is a special reason. They aren't elephantine or vicious carnivores, but the Catoblepas are certainly dangerous to everything around them. Found grazing in grasslands and savannas, the Catoblepas is quite the peculiar sight. Their bodies are shaped quite normally for a stout herbivore, with a hefty frame and a humped back. The large armored scales are certainly an interesting addition, but not too strange since other herbivores grow their own armor. Their long scaly tails give a reptilian vibe, but still nothing too out of the norm. Then you get to the head of this beast and things get weird. While other creatures hold their heads up high, or at least just hold them up, the Catoblepas lets its noggin just sit on the ground. It isn't temporarily down there for grazing, it stays down there for good. Their long neck seems permanently pointed downward, to the point where old tales say that lifting it upward would suffocate them as they wouldn't know how to breathe or function in this position. This certainly isn't true, but since they rarely ever lift their heads up, you can see why it got started. One of the reasons they may not pick up their heads is because it is a bit bigger than your usual noggin. Looking at their skeleton is a bit comical, because you got this long thin neck and than a chunky skull sitting at the end of it. With their head always sitting on the dirt, one wonders how they move or function. Well, the Catoblepas has come up with some special adaptations to make such an odd position work! If you look at the bottom of the mandible, you will notice it is covered in thick hairs that sprawl all over the place. It is like a beard that is being used like a skirt, but that isn't the weirdest part. Hidden beneath all that hair is a bizarre structure that is made through a unique formation of muscles. The developing and enlarging of these muscles has created something that is akin to the foot of a snail. It is pretty much a fleshy pad of muscle that allows the Catoblepas' head to slowly slither about like a slug. This makes their movements quite interesting to watch, as they must lead with their head anytime they wish to walk. Since this form of travel is sluggish, their body is left waiting for their head to move forward before they can take a single step. When grazing, they will only need their face to get the job done, so their whole body will be sitting still while their head slithers all over the place. Quite bizarre! Still, this mandibular foot does not answer all the questions about the Catoblepas' day-to-day life. If your head is stuck on the ground and you travel with your chin, how do you eat? Once again, this problem is solved by specializing certain muscles. Their lower lip is elongated and specialized to create a proboscis that is similar to an elephant's trunk. This appendage is packed with muscles that give it incredible dexterity and strength, allowing it to pull apart vegetation or yank up buried roots. It also quite sensitive to touch and taste, which it uses to probe out viable food sources. With their heads so low down, eyes aren't really that helpful. You can see this with the messy tangle of hair that constantly covers them, as they don't have much use. Instead it relies on its powerful nose to sniff out food rich areas, than its lip will locate the individual pieces. Grass will be torn and swollen roots will be pulled up and fed to its maw. The Catoblepas chews its food with a front-to-back motion rather than side-to-side, which is assisted by its mandibular foot. It spends a lot of time chewing, making sure it's ground up to an absolute pulp. This is because its dinner has to be forced up its neck to reach its stomach, so the squishier and softer the meal is, the easier it is to swallow! As a strict grazer, the Catoblepas spends a large chunk of its day seeking out and eating vegetation. This lengthy process is mainly because these creatures move at a snail's pace. They are quite slow and never in a hurry to get anywhere. When night falls, they often just sleep where they are, then wake up in the morning and continue their dining. So we got a slow loner herbivore that doesn't take cover at night and has terrible eyesight. Surely these creatures are vulnerable to predators, right? The Catoblepas is not a species that fears running into predators, it is a beast that predators are terrified of running into.

While their goofy appearance and slow ways has made them quite famous around the world, they have another thing that makes them notorious. If one already does not know the answer, then perhaps a look at its colorful display may give a hint. Lots of creatures use their coloration to hide or blend in, but there are some who choose to stand out for a very specific reason. You see, the diet of the Catoblepas is mostly vegetation, but they have specific foods they like the most. Plants tend to develop toxins and poisons to keep herbivores from eating them, and that is what the Catoblepas seeks out. Any poisonous vegetation is free game to this species, as they seem to have an incredible immunity to practically any toxin. As they consume these deadly foods, the toxins and noxious fluids are absorbed and moved to special organs. Located near the respiratory system, these vessels mix these poisons with their own secretions, turn that soup into a vapor and release them on each exhale. This results in the Catoblepas literally breathing poisonous clouds, surrounding itself in a deadly fog. One good breath will get you a lungful of Catoblepas poison and whatever plant toxins it had ingested. This dietary mixture is what makes this weapon so dangerous, as its properties are affected by what it has recently eaten. That means making an antidote or building an immunity is useless, as each cloud will contain a unique mixture of plant poisons. The side effects of inhaling this vapor will also be different each time, as it may result in things like vomiting, paralysis, blindness, swelling, itchiness, muscle spasms and so much more. Whatever the poison of a plant can do to you, the Catoblepas can weaponize and put it in the air. I heard that an Ivy Dryad once fell asleep on a hunting trip and woke up to find a Catoblepas licking her. Though she ran off before it started chewing, that particular beast spent the next few days spraying her burning oils everywhere, which the locals were not a fan of. This incredible defense is why every creature gives a Catoblepas a wide berth. Herbivores and carnivores alike want nothing to do with these beasts. There are a few creatures that can withstand this deathly fog. Dryads can tolerate it, but sometimes it can even be dangerous to us. Some plants create toxins to halt the growth of surrounding competitors, and this poison can be added to the mist. It may not be lethal to us, but it will certainly mess you up for a week or two. Ivy Dryads and their hybrids seem to have the strongest immunity, for the obvious reasons. Funny enough, some say that the art of the Venoness was inspired by the Catoblepas. You can definitely see where one would get that idea! One of the other beasts that may survive the aura of the Catoblepas is their cousins, the Khalkotauroi. These hulking brutes have been seen happily grazing besides their brethren, unfazed by the poisonous air. Honestly, if you see this duo out in the wild, keep far far away. This pairing is certainly one of the most dangerous combinations out there. A mouthful of poison will leave you choking for air, just long enough to get your body splattered across the savanna by the Khalkotauroi. As if those ornery behemoths weren't dangerous enough as it is! With this deadly aura ever present around them, you can see why very few things ever try to eat them. Any attempts must be done during windy days, when the weather blows their clouds away. Even then, one must stay upwind so that the poison isn't blown onto them, but this allows the Catoblepas to smell the attack coming. When agitated, these creatures will snort and churn out even more poison. The best method to take one down is to bait it into using up all its poisonous gas, which will take a bit. Once its stores are all used up, you may be able to attack. This still doesn't guarantee a safe kill, as the Catoblepas has another line of defense. Since it spends all its life marinating in its own vapors, the gas tends to leave a toxic residue on its body. A single cut or scratch from its scales or tusks will introduce the poison into your body. It is best to kill it from afar, aiming for its vulnerable neck. Though I have heard of some tribes hunting Catoblepas before, I certainly wouldn't do it. Every inch of them is poisonous, and the method of making their meat safe to eat is quite lengthy. Seems more trouble than it's worth! I have heard that certain Catoblepas cuts are considered a delicacy in some higher circles, and that baffles me. I have had the chance to eat their meat before and it certainly isn't anything special. It is just beef with a bit of sharpness to it, that is all. For the locals who hunt them, I understand that they need whatever food that they can get. For the rich idiots who call it a delicacy, it seems like nonsense to me. They are just eating it because it is hard to get and expensive. Maybe I should start selling Swamp Basilisk livers for a high price and see how many oafs buy it. Yeah, it taste like bog and death, but it is a delicacy! I swear! As famous creatures, you can imagine the Catoblepas has made quite the impact. Their notoriety and bright colors make them a must-see for travelers and tourists. Their colorful pelts and shiny scales are sought after by collectors and hunters, though they must be very careful when handling them! This same armor is also popular for native warriors and hunters, as it offers great defense. Practitioners of Thericorium also value the sturdiness and strength of these scales. The added color is also a nice touch! While some good can be made from these beasts, Catoblepas are very much feared when they are alive and walking about. Their poisonous fog can create a whole lot of problems, and many of these issues can lead to death. Just breathing it in is an obvious danger, and it is hazard that can take out anyone. Hunters and travelers are advised to keep close attention to their surroundings, as a nearby beast and a strong breeze can be fatal. Local hunters often refer to these beasts as the "Killer of Fools" and a tool of the gods to weed out the sloppy and stupid. In their eyes, every hunter should be aware of their surroundings and be mindful of the beasts and environment. To be caught in the cloud either means you missed the big colorful ungulate that was shuffling about or you weren't paying attention to the wind which is vital for taking down prey undetected. Screw any of those two up and you are no hunter! Those out hunting the wilds, though, aren't the only ones who must fear its poison. Farmers and livestock owners must be sure to keep any of these beasts away, lest they poison their animals or leave a toxic residue on their crops. This can destroy one's livelihood, but some have found an advantage to this deadly fog. One local tale speaks of a farmer whose crops were spared from a locust plague due to a Catoblepas being nearby. This taught the people the idea of pest control, and using specialized poisons to protect their plants. There is a famous plantation in these lands that is run by Ivy Dryads and actually keeps several Catoblepas on the property. Immune to its poisons, they feed these beasts certain plants and mixtures so that their fog is tuned to warding off pests and parasites. It also has the added bonus of keeping away thieves, as these crops are poisonous until they are properly cleaned. It seems like a risky bet to me, but apparently their produce is top notch, so what do I know? To properly and thoroughly wash my fruits and vegetables is what I know! Catoblepas are also carefully watched to make sure they don't go near the village's water source. Though the small amount of fog that touches the water may be diluted and neutralized, having a Catoblepas dunk itself for a bath will certainly cause some havoc. There is even a famous story that speaks of two greedy brothers that angered the gods, which involved one of these incidents. Apparently this duo was taking more from the land than they were giving, hunting and killing every beast they saw. A Catoblepas was sent by the gods to stop them, but the clever brothers drove it into a pond where the water washed away all its poison. They then killed it and hacked off its tusks as trophies. After a few more days of butchering the local wildlife, they headed back home to their family for a celebration. The whole family cooked up their spoils and had a feast. During this indulgent banquet, though, everyone grew sick and died. It turned out that the mother of the two had gone and drawn water from this pond after they had killed the Catoblepas. This poisoned drink was unknowingly served to the whole family and struck them down. This tale no doubt drove many to come up with ways to keep these beasts away from their homes and resources. Funny enough, one of the ways to ward off these creatures is to put up low fences or sharp stakes on the ground. Since it can't really lift its head, any obstacle that it can't crawl over is avoided. I mean, if you had to walk with your face, you wouldn't be all that adventurous either!         Due to their anatomy and poisonous aura, the Catoblepas has been used to describe a certain condition. It is called Catoblepas Syndrome, and it plagues researchers, archivists and students alike. It arises during long periods of intense research, or when exams are on the horizon. Those who hole themselves up to study and read for hours on end, burying their faces in books and scrolls. Permanently hunched over their desks and work stations, their necks forever point downward into their notes. As they feverishly read and write, they neglect proper hygiene and cease to bathe, resulting in the most putrid of smells! Friends, families and coworkers alike are driven away by this deathly cloud, fearful of the monster that created it! Truly this tragic disease has claimed many obsessed researchers, nearly taking me in its clutches! Thankfully I was saved by a coworker who got me to take a break and a bath! Disaster averted! Ha! But seriously, for all you studious folk out there, be sure to take a break from your work from time to time. A strong mind is a healthy mind! And be sure to bathe too, the whole world will thank you for that!   I do have to say, I am very thankful that my work on these creatures is done through writing and not through verbal presentation. Their name is an absolute nightmare for me to pronounce and I am happy I have not humiliated myself on stage trying to say it. Props to the researchers who do speak to audience about the Catoblepas and nail the pronunciation every time. If it were me, people would be learning about the wonders and adaptations of the Catobleyplebusmoos. Chlora Myron Dryad Natural Historian ------------------------------------------------- This thing took me waaaay too many tries to draw. I would get halfway done and think "nah this sucks," then try again. After three times, I finished the piece, colored it in and said "nah this sucks." The colors were what killed the last version, as I went with bland grays and browns. I was trying to do the dumb "mammals are drab earthy colors" thing, but that is a boring restriction I somehow have. Mammals come in all sorts of colors, so there is no excuse. Then I also got to thinking that poisonous animals rarely want to blend in, as they advertise their dangerous nature quite blatantly. I figured a famously noxious creature like the Catoblepas would believe in aposematism and would make sure the whole world knew they were there. My sister picked out the ring-necked snake as an inspiration (which turns out isn't all that dangerous, but dang those colors are good) and I went with that! So these beasties are a lot more colorful now! May seem quite odd out in the middle of a savanna or grassland, but I think any creature would respect the visual warning from a beast that spews clouds of death.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Decryption_Error: “Spooked”

Summary: Elliot and Y/N navigate through some choppy waters at the start of their relationship, and Y/N receives an interesting offer from her boss, Miles. 

Story Summary,  “The Server Room, Part I”,  “The Server Room, Part II”  “The Long Weekend, Part I”,  “The Long Weekend, Part II”,  “The Aftermath”,  “Undecided”,  “Decided”

Word Count: 4560

Tags: @sherlollydramoine  @rami-malek-trash  @teamwolf2411  @limabein@txmel  @hopplessdreamer  @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging  @alottanothing  @moon-stars-soul  @free-rami  @ramimedley

If you want added, let me know.

A/N: Thank you, once again, to @alottanothing for navigating me around a block! I 💖 YOU

PS: I HAD to post today in the event that Sam Esmail SHREDS MY FEELINGS INTO TINY PIECES tonight 😱

The morning sun was persistent, progressing from bathing my face in a gentle glow to clawing at my eyelids, demanding I wake up. I groaned, still so sleepy, but as I stretched and finally gave in to the sun’s insistence, I smiled when I opened my eyes and took in the sleeping form next to me.

Elliot was hanging a bit off the edge of the bed, as if he were trying not to get too close to me, and I chuckled and shook my head. His bare back was exposed, and I itched to touch him, to run a finger from the top of the sheet, up his spine, and across the tiny crescent marks from my nails that were discernible between the freckles that smattered his shoulders. I had never seen anything so pretty as Elliot in this moment, and the remnants from last night’s pleasure filled me with a warmth and an ache.

I wanted to kiss him awake, but I also didn’t want to startle him. I could hear him breathing, deep and steady as he still slept, his face buried in his pillow with both of his arms tucked underneath it.

I looked around for a clock, but the closest thing was Elliot’s phone, which was sitting on the bookshelf above his bed. I scooted over to the far side of the mattress and fished my backpack out from the corner it had landed in last night.

Shit.

It was already after 9 and I was meeting my mom at a salon uptown at noon.

I tossed my phone back in my bag and reached for my underwear. As I slid them on, I looked around for my dress and saw it under the kitchen chair; my bra was dangling off a knob on Elliot’s dresser, and I silently giggled at the likelihood of it nailing that perfect landing again. I quietly made my way into the bathroom with my backpack.

Elliot was still dead to the world when I came out, dressed, and no longer obviously looking like I had just spent the night getting affectionately fucked by my new boyfriend.

I wondered how regularly he slept because the purple that appeared under his eyes was there more often than it was not. I sighed as I made my way back to the bed because I really couldn’t wait any longer. I crawled softly across the mattress before I reached out and touched his bare shoulder.

“Elliot.”

He moved, stretching and flexing his muscles until he stilled like a caught animal. He lifted his head and turned to look at me, comically slow.

“Morning . . . boyfriend,” I said, smiling, treading lightly in our new waters.

Elliot buried his face in his pillow and shook his head before he rolled over to lay on his back.

“Not a dream?” he questioned with a small smile as he rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Check out my nail marks on your back if you need tangible proof,” I said as I arched my brow, biting my lower lip to conceal my satisfied grin.

A blush crept onto Elliot’s cheeks as he looked up at me, a shy, slow smile spreading over his face, and in that moment, my breath hitched as I became certain I was already half in love with him.

My eyes raked over his face, taking in his slightly stubbled jaw, his disheveled hair, and the sleep that still fought with his eyelids. He really was a work of art, bathed softly in the bright light of the morning, his skin lit with the golden hue of the still persistent sun.

“I have to go,” I said, my sad tone making it obvious that going was the last thing I wanted to be doing. “I have a salon appointment with my mom uptown and you know what the trains are like on a Saturday.”

Elliot nodded, his eyes continuing to wake up, becoming more alert each time I spoke.

“I’m also meeting Franco, Jill, and a few other friends for dinner tonight. It is a “plus one” kind of situation, so—what? Why are you looking at me like I’ve grown horns?”

“Plus one?” Elliot asked.

“Plus one as in bring your boy/girl/partner.”

Elliot’s look of slight confusion immediately turned to one of horror. Early in our relationship, I could read him so well. It was like he hadn’t yet learned to guard himself from me, like he was testing what it was like to be open, to be vulnerable…to be normal.

I laughed a little and assured him it was okay if he didn’t want to go.

“I know it’s soon, but since we’re official, it would be wrong of me not to ask. I told you last night that I don’t live my life in the shadows. I’m not going to hide you away from my friends or my family,” I said, pausing before I added, “It’s not too late to bail.”

Elliot continued to look at me, his lips still closed, so I babbled on.

“And by bail, I mean from dating me, not just like from going out tonight. But if you want to bail just on tonight, that’s cool. Just do whatever makes you comfortable or whatever.”

Elliot’s lips parted as he softly laughed and I looked at him, slightly annoyed because I was unsure why this was funny.

“Do I make you nervous?” he asked, his eyes watching me as my features twisted into surprise.

“I—I think you do?” I replied, questioning myself as I tried to sort through my thoughts.

“You’re always so confident, so sure of everything,” Elliot explained, his face lighting up a bit as he made another connection. “You were like this last night when I asked you to come over.”

I was quiet as I realized Elliot was right—he did make me nervous, and I had a feeling it was because I was so afraid of fucking this up, of losing him before I even had a chance to really have him. And I had almost done just that last night.

“You’re about to see a whole new frighteningly vulnerable side of me—if you’re not bailing that is.”

“I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I’m not—that I don’t know how to do this beyond, well, beyond what happened last night. And maybe, like, watching a movie and getting takeout or something.”

I laughed, “Shit, El! Then we’ve practically been dating for months already. Minus the nakedness, of course.”

Elliot laughed, and it was such a sweet, genuine laugh that it made me grin, my teeth flashing and my eyes crinkling. I shook my head as he laughed, and my eyes lingered on his face.

“I could come over after you see your friends?” he suggested as his laughter faded.

“So, that’s a ‘no’ on coming with me?”

Elliot opened, then shut his mouth, the war going on inside his head almost palpable.

“Don’t,” I began, feeling sorry for putting him back on the spot, knowing last night was a huge step for him. “You can always be honest with me—go ahead. Try it out.”

Elliot took a deep breath while his hand, which was resting on his chest, began to move as his fingers tapped on his own skin nervously.

“No. I’m—I’m not ready for…for that.”

“Okay,” I replied, smiling softly at him.

“You’re not mad?”

“No. I’m only a teensy bit disappointed because I’m going to miss you so much,” I said as I leaned forward to hover over Elliot, my lips biting back a smile.

His face erupted in a grin. Never had I seen Elliot smile so much in one interaction and knowing I was the cause of it made me happy. I closed the distance between us and kissed him sweetly, his hands reaching up to grasp either side of my face, and I sighed into his mouth at that intimate contact, and then I closed the kiss quickly and scrambled out of the bed before I lost all sense of responsibility.

“I have to go. I don’t want to go, but I have to,” I whined as I hunted around for my other sandal.

I heard Elliot shuffle into his jeans and by the time my shoes were on and my backpack was on, he was walking toward me, his pants only zipped, not buttoned. My eyes widened, and I felt my mouth go a little dry.

“You can’t fucking do that,” I said with such forcefulness that Elliot froze, his eyes looking at me and then the ground and then turning to look behind him.

“Look that fucking hot when I’m trying to get the hell out of here,” I clarified, giggling, and Elliot gifted me with that same sheepish smile from earlier before he ran his hand through his mussed hair.

I walked over to him and hooked my fingers in the top pockets of his jeans and moved him close to me, slamming our hips together. I kissed his stubbled chin, and Elliot’s arms shot around my back and squeezed. I kissed the indentation between his chin and his lower lip, then pressed my lips against his in a last, lingering kiss. 

“Go back to bed, enjoy your Saturday, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way home tonight,” I said, giving Elliot one last lingering look before abruptly spinning out of his arms to force myself to leave.

* * * * *

Sunday, 8:16 pm.

I growled as I checked my phone for the thousandth time before tossing it to the other end of the sofa. I glanced at the cooking show playing on my TV and then glanced back at my phone. I twitched forward, almost reaching it before I chastised myself for continuing to check for a message that was clearly not going to come.

I walked out to the kitchen, ignored my phone, and rummaged through the fridge before shutting the door, knowing I wasn’t hungry.

I leaned against the island and closed my eyes, my mind tired. When Elliot failed to answer me on Saturday night, and each subsequent hour he failed to answer me, I ran the gamut of emotions: concern, annoyance, concern, annoyance at being concerned, frustration, anger, desperation, and now, a combination of frustration, anger, and hopelessness led me to being completely exhausted.

Clearly, I made a really big fucking mistake.  

Last night, I had texted Elliot on my way home, just like we had discussed, except he never returned my message.

I waited, then messaged him again.

Nothing.

I called him, and his phone went straight to voicemail, which was, of course, one of those default robots that read the number and asked me to leave a message at the tone.

I did, stating I was worried since we had made plans.

“Just . . . answer me, Elliot,” I ended, probably sounding as hopeless as I currently felt.

This was just so fucking typical. One step forward, ten steps back. Is this really what I wanted? What any grown ass adult would want in a relationship?  

My eyes snapped open and my head turned to face my door, wondering if I had imagined the small noise of a knock.

Another set of light knocks peppered through the air and I made my way to the peephole.

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and quiet my agitation before I opened the door.

“Come on in,” I said, stepping aside to let him enter, annoyance present at the edges of my tone despite my attempt to remain cool.

Elliot seemed unphased, and in fact, almost unaware of my presence. As I took in his appearance, it was clear he was having a crisis. He hadn’t shaved and his hair was a mess, like he’d been tugging at it, then trying to fluff it back into place for hours. There were bags under his eyes, and he was wearing his hoodie despite the summer heat, his forehead beaded with perspiration.

“I can’t do this,” Elliot bit out, pacing around my kitchen island, his hands alternating between shoving into his hoodie pockets and twitching at his sides.

All of my anger and frustration melted away as I looked at him. The juxtaposition between the last time I saw Elliot, smiling and happy, and looking at him now was so stark that it scared me.

I walked around and cut off his pacing, reaching to grasp his arm just to still him, but he jumped back like I was a livewire. His eyes danced over my face, but his expression was similar to that night in the server room; he saw me, but I wasn’t really sure he was seeing me.

“What can’t you do?” I asked slowly and in a quiet voice, stepping back to give him space.

“This,” Elliot rasped, his voice unsteady as he motioned between himself and me.

I took a minute to swallow my hurt and to figure out what to say next. I knew Elliot well enough to know that if he really wanted to run from me, he wouldn’t be here.

“‘This’ could mean a thousand things,” I said, mirroring his gesture.

“Before yesterday, we were friends—just friends. We could talk about anything. That hasn’t changed, El. Talk to me, please. Help me understand.”

Elliot started to still his movements, as if he were forcing himself to focus, forcing himself to be present.

I walked over to the couch and took my spot on the end, leaving his spot open.

After a minute, he followed and sat down, his body stiff, closed off.

“I can’t be in a relationship with you,” he said to the chef on the TV.

“What changed between Saturday morning and now?”

Elliot finally looked at me, really looked at me, and I could see the torment in his eyes, his face an open book and before I could stop myself, I was standing, my hands moving jerkily as I tried to contain my anger.

“I told you not to hack me! Ask don’t hack. You promised! And you know what the fuck Elliot? I could hack you, too. You don’t hold the exclusive rights to invading people’s privacy—"

“I didn’t hack you,” Elliot said with agitation as he stood to face me, his hands in his hoodie pockets. “And I didn’t—I didn’t set out to hack anyone. I was just . . . curious,” he finished almost inaudibly as he hung his head.

I was silent, my anger still teetering on explosive.

He spoke to the floor as he explained, “It’s so hard not to scratch that itch when it’s so easy to reach.”

“Who did you hack?”

“Them.”

“What is it with you and being vague? Them who?”

“Your boyfriends.”

I felt like I had been sucker-punched, and my mouth popped open in an oh of surprise as the air escaped me in a whoosh of breath.

“What the fuck?” I whispered, my face contorted in anger and confusion.

Elliot moved to the balcony door and opened it, fumbling to pull out his cigarettes.

My legs backed into the edge of the couch and I plopped onto the cushion.

Elliot smoked, the smell drifting to me as I attempted to process what he had done. I sank into the cushions of the sofa and closed my eyes, even more exhausted than I had been before I knew why Elliot had ghosted me.

I listened as the balcony door slid shut and as Elliot shuffled further into the room. When he spoke, it was with such sadness.

“I’m—I’m sorry. I won’t bother you anymore,” he mumbled as he moved to the door.

“Wait,” I sighed. “I asked you to talk to me, and I still want you to talk to me. Just . . . come sit down.”

Elliot looked empty as he took his seat on the couch, like all the chaos of his thoughts and his actions had been driving him, and now that it was done, over, he didn’t know what to do with himself. One set of his fingers nervously drummed on the armrest while the others were tucked away in his hoodie pocket.

“I need you to help me understand something,” I said slowly. “Why didn’t you just ask me about my past?”

“Wouldn’t have asking you about it made me look . . .” Elliot trailed off as he struggled to come up with a word.

“Look worse than you do now?” I said, a dry smile twitching at the corner of my mouth.

Elliot shoved his other hand into his hoodie and leaned forward, clearly ready to bolt.

“Stop. Just stop trying to run. You’re here. We’re talking. Although I wish we could’ve done this last night when you were supposed to come over—"

“I’m sorry,” Elliot interrupted.

“Careful. You sound like a broken record,” I said, another twitch of a smile on my lips.

Elliot’s face remained blank, but there was an alarming uncertainty in his eyes. Like he had swum so far out of his element he was willing to just drown rather than face something this unknown to him.

In that moment, I knew. I knew that no matter how hard this was going to be, I had to try. Elliot had never let someone this far into his life, and if I left him, forgot about him, I would be setting a precedent he may not ever be able to overcome. Whatever happened to him in the past had shattered his ability to trust people, to like people. All he needed was one more reason and he would close himself off forever.

I took a deep breath, storing my momentous realization away to think about later. Right now, I had to throw him a life preserver.

“Do you remember how it felt when I told you no, when I blew you off in front of Sarah and JaLeah and didn’t come home with you on Friday? Do you remember how that hurt?”

Elliot’s blank expression broke, the hurt he felt from that night clearly not yet healed. It hurt me, too, to do this to him, but I wanted to make him understand.

“Yes,” he said quickly.

“I fucked up. And then I fixed it. Now, you’ve fucked up. So. . .”

“I have to fix it,” Elliot said slowly.

It was his turn to take a deep breath, his body slightly relaxing as he looked at me, his hands wondering out of their pockets to rub themselves on the tops of his thighs before settling.

“And then it will be my turn to fuck it up again. Or maybe you’ll take two turns in a row, then I’ll take three,” I said shrugging and smiling softly.

For the first time that evening, Elliot returned my smile with a very small one of his own.

“This is how a relationship works. We communicate. Ask—"

“Don’t hack.”

“Yes,” I said laughing softly.  

“Can I—can I kiss you?”

“You can kiss me anytime you want, El.”

He got up and stood in front of me, holding out his hand. I took it, his palm still sweaty.

“It’s 80-some degrees outside,” I said as I tugged at the zipper on his hoodie.

“Habit,” he mumbled as his hands moved to my hips, and his head bent slightly to look at my lips.

I looked into his eyes and moved my hands to rest on his chest, the pounding of his heart evident beneath his clothes.

“Do I make you nervous, Elliot?” I asked in echo of his question to me yesterday.

“Yes,” he breathed, as he bent to close his lips over mine.

Elliot’s lips were dry, either from the heat or his nerves, so I reached out with my tongue to wet them, licking at their fullness until he opened his mouth, his own tongue sliding out to meet mine. We both leaned into each other as the kiss deepened, losing ourselves in it, kissing back a little bit of the happiness we had achieved the day before.

When we closed the kiss out of a necessity to catch our breath, I wrapped my arms around Elliot in a hug. I pressed my face into his shoulder, and despite not wanting to ruin a good moment, I had to ask. Like Elliot said—it was hard not to scratch an itch when it was so easily reached.

“What did you find that made you want to quit us before we even really got started?”

Elliot’s hands were locked around my lower back, and I felt them tighten, his fingertips pressing into my skin.

“I’m nothing like them,” he said into my hair, his words soft, but strongly reverberating through his chest.

I huffed out a laugh, my breath ghosting across his neck before I leaned back to look into his eyes.

“Isn’t that a good thing? I did break up with them, ya know.”

Elliot rolled his eyes.

“Because being a millionaire who speaks three languages and has a house in the Hamptons is a bad thing?”

“Is that what you want?” I asked, pulling back from Elliot to really look at him. “Is that what you think I want?”

Elliot thought for a long time.

“That’s what everyone wants, I think.”

“That’s what you think everyone wants. You’re projecting.”

I could see Elliot pull in his bottom lip, thinking over what I said.

“Security. I think everyone wants to feel that kind of security,” Elliot said.

“That kind of security,” I said slowly, choosing my words because Elliot was right. I knew people longed to live without worrying about money. I knew that, but I was fortunate enough to never have to live it.

But there was a dark side to that kind of life, and I grew up watching that darkness swallow person after person until my father distanced himself almost entirely from his wealthy friends.

“That kind of security swallows you whole. First, it’s a million dollars. Then, it’s another and another. Because it’s never enough. And, it’s one house on the beach. Then it’s two more—one in the Keys and one in Big Sur. Because it’s never enough. Soon, you find yourself rattling around one of his too-big houses, alone, surrounded by nothing but things. Alone. Always alone.”

Elliot watched my face as I talked, but he was far away to me as I wandered through the fog of my memory, remembering what it was like to be with them.

“You’re right, Elliot,” I said, shaking away my memories. “You’re nothing like them. And I’m glad.”

I turned to face Elliot again, and his eyes swept over my features, reading me, searching for the truth and finding it.

“So you still want to be with me?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“Well, I already emailed HR to schedule a meeting, so I’m going to look like a real asshole if we’ve already broken up,” I said, sighing and fighting off my laughter at the absurdity of it all.  

Elliot laughed, just a soft echo of the one from yesterday. Everything with him took time, especially when he had to climb out of some dark thought that had consumed him.

“Guess you didn’t bring your stuff to stay tonight?” I asked, glancing at the door to make sure I hadn’t missed his backpack.

“I was in a hurry,” Elliot said, frowning.

“Probably a good thing. We both need to get some sleep. Our meeting is at 9:15.”

“And after that everyone is going to know?”

“Yup.”

“And if we break up in a week, we look like assholes?”

“Yup.”

“Fuck.”

“I know,” I said smiling and watching Elliot’s face split into a grin.

* * * * *

“Let the record state that Ms. Y/N Y/L/N and Mr. Elliot Alderson informed Human Resources of their social relationship on the 25th of June 20--. Both parties have agreed and attached their signature to the following terms:

1. Their relationship is voluntary and consensual

2. They are both free to end the relationship at any time.

3. If the social relationship should end, they both agree that they shall not allow the end of this relationship to negatively impact their job performance.

4. They will act professionally in the workplace without public display of affection.

5. They have received and reviewed CISTech’s sexual-harassment policy, a copy of which is attached.

6. They acknowledge that the social relationship between them has not been made a condition or term of employment by CISTech.”

I listened as the secretary furiously tapped away at her keyboard, cementing this rather awkward moment of time in the company’s notes forever. Elliot had turned an interesting shade of grey at some point during the meeting, but he was starting to return to a normal color now that he could sense the end was in sight.

I gave him a small smile, one he did not return, as he was busy still staring straight at a MEMO that was just to the left of Alison Shaye’s head.

“Any questions?”

Elliot shook his head no, his body leaning forward, just waiting for the moment he could spring up and out of the room.

“I don’t have any either,” I said, smiling briefly at Ms. Shaye and tucking away my copy of the agreement.

“May I have another moment of your time, Ms. Y/L/N?” Ms. Shaye asked before turning to dismiss Elliot.

Elliot had been eagerly waiting to be dismissed, but now he hesitated, concern flickering across his face as he locked his eyes on mine.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile. I wasn’t concerned because if something was wrong, there would’ve been a paper trail, a formal meeting—not a casual “hold on” tacked on to another meeting.

Elliot frowned, hesitant to accept my reassurance. But since he had no other option, he left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.  

“One moment,” Ms. Shaye said dialing her phone. There was only a moment’s pause before the person she called picked up the phone and I listened to the one-sided, brief conversation.

“She’s here.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you.”

Ms. Shaye smiled, a bit awkwardly because it wasn’t really in her nature to smile, and said, “Mr. Hanson will be here momentarily.”

Miles. Well, that’s a little odd.

Before my mind could get too carried away, Miles walked in. He took Elliot’s seat, but turned the chair so it was angled more toward me. I turned to him, unprepared for what he could possibly want to say in front of the Head of HR.

Miles turned to look at Ms. Shaye.

“So, I can just offer her this because the contract states an offer and a first refusal are perfectly legal?”

“Yes, Mr. Hanson.”

“Y/N,” Miles said, turning his attention back to me. “I want to offer you a job—my job.”

If I hadn’t already swallowed my tongue, I was sure I would’ve choked on it. My mouth opened in surprise, and my hands tightened in my lap.

What the hell was I supposed to say to that?

[maiai-5475days]

Our next spotlight focuses on @bedwithpills and @fucking-zawa-sensei (twitter/AO3)

Full comic summary: Over the years, Hizashi and Shouta’s friendship has grown from overexcited greetings met with grumbled responses, to nights passed huddled around Hizashi’s kotatsu, drawing up blueprints for his new support gear. Spending every day together was becoming the norm, but their last year at U.A. comes with newfound hardships, challenging them in ways they’ve never experienced before. An extended internship assignment sends Hizashi and Shouta to opposite sides of the city, and tests far more than just their hero skills. With a tremendous distance between them, they struggle to come to terms with the toll a hero’s life takes on their relationships and their minds. 

This team is in the teen age group, with a 15 page comic! Jay has also opted to do a short Q and A about her creative processes and what she likes about Erasermic, which can be found below!

Keep an eye out for more comic spotlights and news about our project! We have some exciting stuff coming up!

Why do you like Erasermic? 

I love the dynamic between Shouta and Hizashi, how their personalities are so different, but compliment each other so well. Hizashi's exuberance is balanced out by Shouta's calm and steady nature, while Shouta's more muted playful side is boosted by Hizashi's energy. Spending half a lifetime with someone else means you must know every little nuance of their personality and habits and it makes for such a remarkable understanding between the two characters that I love to explore in creating and consuming erasermic content. 

What's your creative process for this project like?

We talked about what kinds of stories we prefer to read and what each of us felt were our strengths when it came to writing and drawing. I wrote up a concept based on our ideas, Mackerel read over that and offered a few additional story elements we could try out, and I incorporated that into our full script. Mackerel reviewed the script and gave feedback on it, looking at things from an artistic perspective, and is now in the sketching phase of the comic. 

What's your favorite thing to write/draw about? 

I love world building and have started writing a number of au fics. It is a lot of fun to place these characters in new situations and create from the ground up, really pouring all of your creativity into the universe and  your own lore. It definitely stretches those writing muscles. That being said, my favorite thing to write is definitely hurt/comfort. I am such a sucker for cuddles and care taking when I read fics or see art and I'm always happy to be able to add my own stories to that category.

[goodnessgatsby]

Nightmares Are My Wonderland

((Heavily based on the universe in the movie “Push” with undertones of the anime/manga/game corpse party and my hero academia. TRIGGER WARNING; DOMESTIC ABUSE AND ALCOHOLISM IS HEAVILY IMPLIED WITH UNDERTONES OF SEXUAL ASSUALT AND MENTAL ABUSE))

((Looking for a partner to either ally with my villain and prime her to become something either truly evil or virtuous (meaning you can be a hero that saves her from a dark life if you’d like, I encourage this.) Or you can meet with her a decade after she’s become a villain, being more well-known and feared among the community and either ally her as a villain or fight her as a hero (meaning you would have to fight to defeat her as a hero, saving her soul would no longer be an option unless you’re creative) Please be very clear as to what you quirk is and how you use it))

((If you wish to play a Cannon character than this character is strictly made for a hero/villain environment as long as they belong to the comic book, manga, movie range then you are free to use them))

Sun glistens through the dark murky motel room as Valerie grips her long smooth locks, a soft tan to her skin despite living like a vampire most of her life, as her eyes flutter impatiently about the room. Dad didn't come home again, looks like he'll be home later today. Suddenly the neighbor and his weird cosplay girlfriend begin talking way too fucking loud for 6 a.m. before Valerie pinches the bridge of her nose, whining softly as the hangover settles over her small boxy frame "Fuuuuck! Shut Up!" she screams, throwing a pillow at the wall before sitting up at the edge of the bed. The walls are a dark smoke gray, with brown stains scattered about the room like carefully hung photos and a pitch colored trim between the concrete floor and ceiling “God, could we have picked a cheaper motel…” she huffs as if she hadn’t spent all her savings on a few months in this crappy place, it was easier than trying to find an apartment without a reliable source of income. At this point, she’d only been taking odd jobs in different towns with hopes of someday landing a job and settling down in a real home, but that was entirely impossible with her father’s drunken misdeeds in every town she had attempted to build a nest. Speaking of which, was it possible he sent her a text or tried to call her last night when she was drinking? Like Father, like daughter…Valerie stares at the bottle of 1800 Tequila Silver on the nightstand, it never tasted good but the feeling of floating was something worth chasing “I really ought to let him go drink himself to death far away from me…” but the truth is like the high liquor gives, she continues to chase what her father used to be…before…She dives for the bottle before the thought can bubble to the surface taking a massive swig, filling her mouth entirely before swallowing. She runs her fingers through the length of her hair as the liquor silences any chance of tears before she opens the app on her phone to check for any paying jobs. Please, something that pays more than 35 dollars!!! Browsing the list carefully her eyes flutter over something odd, but for 1,000 dollars…how could she pass this up? Imagine all the food, maybe even a motel upgrade…even for a few weeks would be better than breathing in mold for a day longer. The description reads ‘Social experiment; One-time visit required for payment. We are inviting 7 people to a night of fun and fright!(Each person will receive their own time and date to arrive, only one person will be selected to receive a permanent job and living quarters) You and 6 others will be suited up in gear that will analyze your vitals and brain functions while giving a boost in physical abilities so you can defend against ‘monsters’. This will require all 7 participants in different sessions to work alongside me to complete simulated courses, like a Virtual Reality Video Game! No Danger! No Risk! Just 23 hours of free food, socializing and a whole lot of exercise! Better message quickly or you’ll miss your chance!’ below was an email and phone number with the letters X.O.E signed below. Social experiment, huh? The young maiden smiles nervously at the idea of anything social, but quickly decides the money would clearly be worth it, although it could be a scam…on the off chance it is real “Suppose I just message them and see how it goes…”

Several Days Later; Monday

As the night of the experiment arrives, Valerie finds herself standing outside the most beautiful little house she’d ever seen in her 19-year life, it was white and plain colored with vines covered in tiny blossomed flowers scattered about its length and surrounded by a garden that must’ve come right out of a fairytale. Her brain wept at such beauty, unaware of the man hollowing out her soul with his eyes until the final time his eyes rushed over her, Valerie gasps gripping onto her sides with her arms across her abdomen

“Y-you must be Xavier Everts…” she blurts out, trying not to appear terrified to no avail “I...I’m Valerie Bonna-velt…I’m here for the…social…experiment…” she was beginning to wonder if there was such a thing, now that she stood in his unblinking presence. Had anyone messaged this man? “Excuse me…Could you please tell me what’s going on…I’m really confused” the man moves closer, and without a word takes her wrist dragging the trembling teen through the gate and into a poorly lit kitchen.  

The man’s frail old voice booms “Master Everts!” Valerie stares numbly at the floor, her brain rushing over every possible scenario in which she’d never see the light of day again. Suddenly a warm voice coos back, in the sweetest most soothing manner an anxiety-stricken woman could hope for “Ah yes, back here Ms. Bonna-velt, I’ve awaited your arrival” she eagerly grips onto the velvet sheets draped over the door frame replacing a door, pulling them apart as she stepped into a large open Victorian style living room. She grips her chest as her brows dip and pull together in rhythm with the melting of her soul, the walls were deep pitch with roses painted all over that were framed two-fourths of the way down with a light brown border. This appeared to have an almost red glaze deepening in opacity as it met the floor unlike the lusterless tan trim. This matched the drapes and couches perfectly; Valerie could not help but stand in awe as her honey colored eyes polished the place over. From the floral-patterned wood below her feet to the glowing candle chandelier above her head it was truly a picture taken right from her dreams. A soft chuckle ripples through the air before her eyes meet with the tall thin man with paper white skin and long raven colored hair

“I see you appreciate the beauty in times far before you and I, but I’m afraid we haven’t the time to give you a tour.” His apologetic smile, spreads energy through her body like a surge of electricity as she nods, rushing to close the distance between herself and the much taller employer

“It is alright, really I’m sure we could do that another time”

In response to this he laughs “Confident one, aren’t we?”

His features were strong and well pronounced, it was like talking to a portrait in an art museum only this one was responding. He explained the way that the suits would have small needles placed in various areas to properly study Valerie’s vitals and chemical balances in response to the simulations around her.  Truth be told she didn’t understand half of it, but the way his arms wrapped around her front and hands fumbled with the attachments kept her calm, unable to focus on the suspicious liquids behind each needle or the metallic scent coming from his clothing. The only thing on her mind was the way his lips would part for each breath as if breathing through his nose was not good enough, and the squinted glances he’d gift her with a calm cold grin

“My, you really enjoy being in my presence, don’t you?” Valerie felt her shoulders pull back as her spine straightened and she nodded softly, there was something…about this place, this man that felt too close to her heart…as if plucked right from her mind. She bites her lower lip, leaning into him to take in the rough metal odor as he roughly grips her waist with his right hand and slammed down onto a large orange button with his left

“I hope you continue to feel this way after your first trial.” His voice quickly escaping her mind as 5 needles inject strange liquids into various parts of her body simultaneously. Had her gut instinct been correct? Had no one else messaged this man? Did she sign up to be a lab rat? His fingers squeeze her skin roughly before releasing

“Don’t worry, it’s the power boost you were promised in the post, I hope you did not forget the terms of our agreement dear girl” all her muscles tense in response to the liquids.

This triggers the beginning of the first simulation titled “Of All the Things You Love” the words stretched across a beautiful Japanese garden, cherry blossoms swaying over the bold white words that slowly began to fade as Mr. Everts booms through the headphones covering her ears

“Now, you should be able to move normally about the world, you will need to find a clue in this world to escape. If you perform well enough, we will discuss having you over for the next trial. For now, all you need to know is your brain controls and develops this game as you play, I have zero control of what you see or what the clues are. I can only give you directions on where to find these clues, beyond that it will be up to you whether you escape or not.”

Valerie was stumped by this, her mind trying desperately to find a solution “My brain created this place? From a memory? Or a dream?” she thought, wrapping her arms around herself as always. Nothing felt different, her arms and legs were the same appendages she used every day. Truthfully it had appeared the only difference was a scenery and climate change. She takes in the warmth of the sun’s rays before he speaks again, somehow watching her stretch and twirl in the summer’s heat

“I see you prefer warmer climates, are you ready to begin?” his soft words felt as though they were placed there for a reason, as though they were meant to calm her uneasy state. “The clue is at the center of this garden, but beware, although your mind has created a calming environment that your cognizance can handle, there are still threats guarding each clue.” He sounded quite sure of himself, but the idea that her mind could have created something harmful in a place like this, it felt impossible. Nevertheless, Valerie forced herself forward deeper into the garden, trying to focus on the flowers, the sun and the warm floral smells that were fashioned by the two intertwining

“Are you sure there are fiends in this game? I know I watch a lot of horror movies, but it doesn’t seem like there could be anything like that… here…” even she sounded unsure of her conclusion, worried it was her brain trying to cope with the idea of treading unknown terrain. “What do I do if there is something trying to attack me anyway?” these seemed like questions she should have asked before starting the simulation, but it seemed she was purposefully placed in this place without knowledge of what was to come. This would force her to rely on the help of Mr. Everts or her own reflexes, making this far more challenging than she had first envisioned.

“Onee-chan!!!” A familiar tiny voice calls towards her from somewhere far ahead, followed by soft weak sobs “Onee-Chan!” the voice cries once again causing my feet to move towards it.

“This is such a bad idea, what if it isn’t really a little girl!” Valerie would scream at her body, but it continued to sprint towards a small terrified scream, until that scream had a face. Before her stood a little girl, not much older than 4 years old with soft black hair that framed her warm rosy skin “Hello there…little one…Do you need help?” Valerie whimpers, keeping her distance from this small child as the girl began to appear more and more familiar the longer, she stared.

“Onee-chan” Yuka cried, looking over her shoulder with the one side of her face that still had an eye, immediately being recognized by the Valerie as one of the victims in her favorite anime.

“No. No no no, this is impossible. You’re not real!” she cried, taking a step back from the child before it revealed its entire face. Blood dripping from the hollow socket that used to house Yuka’s eye as the ghoulish kid closed the distance between herself and Valerie. It was like lightspeed one second Yuka was staring at her and the next she was crying to be saved with tiny hands wrapped tightly around her throat.

“You have to fight, if you want to survive you must fight” Everts calls, reminding her this was merely a simulation. Valerie groans loudly, slamming her elbow into the child’s skull and with a loud crack the girl’s skull fragments spray about the smooth dirt path leading to the center. The corpse began to shrivel like a salted snail until there was nothing left of the falsified child. Needing to remind herself this was just a game, despite the years that torture scene had terrorized her memory.

“It’s Okay Bonna-velt, you can do this. You can do this! You need to breathe and remember your goal” this seemed to do the trick, as Valerie got to her feet once more and began on the path to the center of the world which appeared to have a large pine tree more massive than a skyscraper, the point nearly pierced the sky. “Looks as though my awareness was kind enough to give me a marker. Better return the favor and move swiftly” with this the young girl closed the distance between herself and the wooded forest housing her first clue. The wind whistled an alluring tune as she cautiously stepped into the shaded lot, each tree huddled closely together to deny the rays of sunlight any access while below was an unkept brush that slicked over towards the center, all signs pointed forward. What lied behind this damp cloaked brush? Valerie ties back her long brown hair in a loose poorly constructed bun before entering with a nervous whine, as she passed the threshold the world around her began to change. Although the foliage remained trees, the leaves had grown much larger and pronounced than pines with long limbs that stretched out to the similar trees surrounding it. The terrain matching that of a rainforest, with the sounds of life flooding the air.

“What did you do!?” Everts chimes suddenly, making her body jolt and tense. “How did you change your surroundings? None of the other subjects were able to change their environment without finding a clue” his tone sounded agitated, but for what reason? Had she done something wrong?

“I’m not sure, I just thought I was done with that world…Did I do something wrong?” her voice sounding so terribly unsure of her accidental decision to change the world, unaware that was even something she was able to do.

“No, my apologies. I was merely annoyed with myself for having my attention elsewhere…. You are a wonderful specimen Valerie. I’ve never found a human who’s suited my fancy so immensely, please continue” He chirped, suddenly she feels him grip her waist with both hands and squeeze roughly forcing a moan from her trembling lips. It was embarrassing, but he achieved his goal as she decided not to ask any more questions before getting closer to the first clue. All along her path we’re dried and torn snake skins that grew larger the closer she managed to get, as though there was a large snake that had been shedding in this area over the span of its life. This Idea alone was not enough to scare her, but thinking back she remembered one snake that made her skin crawl. Kaa from the jungle book, no beast should have the ability to manipulate living beings’ minds. A shiver ran up her spine

“Oh god Bonna-velt…tell me you didn’t do that to us…tell me you were thinking snakes on a plane or something harmless like that” but there was no undoing what had already been done, hissing suddenly filled the air.

HISSSSSSS

HISSSSSSSSS

HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

She screamed, running forward frantically, unaware that she was headed towards the snake instead of away from it until her body slams against a large, thick and scaly body before falling onto her behind “No no no no! Close your eyes, close your eyes!” Valerie screams afraid of anything sentient invading her mind as her heels dig into the dirt in front of her, pushing her body away as quickly as her behind will scoot. Woefully she does not scoot fast enough, as soon she can feel that same meaty, scaly body slithering around her and crushing her ribs tighter and snugger by the minute. With her eyes closed the maiden begins shouting at the beast through constricted breaths “I’m not looking into your eyes! You’re not real! And You cannot control me!” it felt like her lungs would pop after this declaration, her eyes threatening to evacuate from her skull as a result of so much pressure. It was not only terrifying to see these characters come to life, but to witness them behaving so different than the characters they represented from shows, movies and books. Memory has a funny way of warping reality, although Yuka was no villain in her stunning debut the memories of her revolve around a nightmare that visited young Valerie from time to time. This made Yuka the perfect first trial according to her brain, and this brainwashing beast was no different.

“There is no need for you to fight me now. You’ve given me all I need” the beastress hisses, as her cold scaly body loosens its grip letting the young girl breathe for a moment. “Open those beautiful eyes, and see for yourself” Her eyes fluttering open to see the snake is no where near her body, and yet it felt as though the thick meaty body began to constrict around her again

“Gah! How are you-…you doing this?” she gasps, unable to breathe the tighter this invisible body squeezes around her small frame. What is going on?! Valerie stares at the serpent as it moves in from the brush

“Why would I waste my time crushing you, when you’ll do it for me?” Kaa smugly hisses towards her, leaving the young girl choking and confused before it eases up allowing her to breathe again “Why waste my time on something as helpless as you? Or Someone so selfish?” the sound of the viper’s harsh words makes each gasped breath that much more painful.

“SHUT UP! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT!” Valerie cries out, feeling a sharp pinch in her left lung before erupting into a fit of coughs, blood oozing from her chest and out her mouth along with mucus from smoking habitually. Her eyes closed tightly as it pools all over directly below Valerie’s trembling body, it felt like lava was pouring from her lungs and out her throat

“Poor thing, it’s really eating you up inside isn’t it?” the serpent cackles, closing the distance between the young human and herself, quickly jerking the young girls chin upward with the end of it’s tail “You should have spoken out, before you could no longer speak at all”. Suddenly Valerie feels the large scaly body starting to coil around her again “Oh dear, I’d never imagined you’d make yourself suffer so much” The young girl spits the last bit of blood onto the floor before looking up at the temptress and yelling

“Don’t get so smug, thinking you’ve won!” the roar of her voice makes the snake stumble and the hypnosis break, knocking the terrified girl to the ground as her surroundings are returned to that garden from the beginning of the game. Kaa had control of her since the moment she stepped into the forest, warping her surroundings to toy with the scared girl. “What?! Why are we here? What did you do?!” these questions swirl around the thick cold air for seconds before Valerie launches at the small snake, gripping the back of its head and the third fourth of it’s body. ‘You have to kill it, it will take over your mind again if you don’t kill it’ her mind screams as she pulls the beast apart in once swift motion, spraying its blood all over herself and the surrounding trees as her knuckles clack together behind her.

“Mhhhm, what a good look for you.” He groans, finally releasing her hips from his hands, wait…Was He holding onto her this entire time? No, his hands started at her waist, now they’re on the sides of her hips. Has he been petting her this whole time?! A blush overcomes her face as an item within the world suddenly begins to glow “That is the clue for the next trial Ms. Bonna-velt…Take it and read its contents carefully, for it can only be deciphered by you.”

The small slab was glistening so brightly it’s shape could not be interpreted from this distance, and as the young adventuress closed the distance she had to use her arms to cover her eyes “I always wondered what the highlighted items looked like inside the game, but this is insane” she whimpered in regards to the blinding light emitting off the clay slab, as her hands gripped the bottom end it ceased  floating and glowing, resting in her tiny palms as a normal chiseled slab “What you’ve found is what you fear, but what you seek is gone my dear” the words flowing from her lips like unsteady breaths “What you’ve found is what you fear…Do they mean Yuka and Kaa? But what you seek is gone my dear? Gone? Like disappeared or like dead?” she puzzled over this for a moment before the words became clear. The young maiden held the slab tightly to her chest, it was all so clear. Yuka was mother, begging to be saved by a simple phone call to the police department and Kaa was the guilt crushing her insides for leaving her mother in the hands of her father, she had only wanted to get away from the fighting for a few hours, a day at most, but the family she’d left behind that day was no longer there upon her arrival. As tears rolled down her heated cheeks like water off a melting icicle, she hugged herself tightly and cried out “The Clue is Mother” before the device suddenly releases her from the simulation.

“Welcome back Young Bonna-velt…” Everts cooed, catching her body as gravity gave way to her tired limbs. Despite physically never moving, her body felt heavy and exhausted as though she’d been running marathons all night “Do not worry, the serum will heal all your aches by the morning. As well as reform some of your least performing organ systems to a new undamaged state.” Almost certain he meant her liver and lungs, but would not directly say these as to not pry too deep into her personal life. Suppose he’s seen too much already? Her eyes begin to grow heavy against his warm frame until the world around her fades into darkness.

The Morning of Mourning

The following morning, Valerie wakes to the dark dank hotel she’d left her unconscious father resting in, wait…How did she get here?! She rubs her temples, sitting up at the middle of the same lumpy mattress she’s slept on for nearly a month now. A sharp pain jolts up her spine, followed by the need to vomit with her head spinning like a dreidel as she plops back down across the mattress watching the small warped ceiling fan weakly wobble in a circle. “uhhh” she groans, this was like a hangover, morning sickness and fever chills had a baby leaving it in the young girl’s skull “Small price to pay for a healthy body, right?” wanting to believe that the strange man from the internet was telling her the truth. Should she see a doctor? A better question is…Does she have the money to visit a doctor? Oh right, the thousand dollars. Rolling onto her side, Valerie looks around both sides of the bed to see if her wallet was on the nightstand, but instead of the torn, leather wallet her mother had gifted Valerie…there was a wave of deep crimson covering the night stand, wall and right half of her bed. Her eyes widen ‘Mr. Everts no!’ her mind sobbed as she pushed herself onto her belly, kicking herself forward to find Victor Dean Bonna-velt with the upper half of his skull removed, as though whomever did this cut from the middle of the eye sockets around. She gagged, pushing herself upward in a rush to get away, but her palm slips on the blood covered wood slamming her body forward and into the corpse where her skull would bounce off the concrete a couple times with the weight of her body sliding her under the second bed with ease. The entire front half of her body smothered in hot, sticky blood as her breathing grows heavier “Someone, please help me…” she whispers, before fading out of consciousness

Hours later the young girl stirs from beneath her father’s bed, unaware of her surroundings beyond a foul smell and the suffocating, cramped space she finds herself crammed in.

Buzz Buzz,

Buzz Buzz,

Buzz Buzz!

Valerie’s phone erupts with life, vibrating on the nightstand closest to the door, she scrambles forward kicking at the guts behind her with loud disgusting squishing sounds as she squirms from under the bed’s grip. She whines softly, trying to rub the filth from her face as her eyes adjust to the darkness

“Dad? Can you get that!” she groans, wiping her hands on her shirt before rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The phone once again springs to life and danced about the nightstand, glossing over the bedroom with a bright blue light as Valerie is reminded of the scene that coated her in…blood…This is blood…A soft chuckle leaves her cowering lips as the phone erupts with a call, the letters X.O.E displayed in bold letters on the tiny screen, slowly she inches past the bed as she tries desperately to keep her from seeing her disemboweled parent again “Block it out Valerie, you have to stay focused, try to remember” she whispers softly. This seemed to ease her nerves as she answered the phone with a monotone “Hello.”

“MS. BONNA-VELT! My gracious dove, how are you this fine eve?” He booms, a cheery whimsy to his words as though he was utterly pleased to speak to the young girl once again. She takes a deep breath before trying to speak again, so much had happened, so much that she needed to know about the events leading up to…to…She swallows hard, holding herself loosely with one arm as the other helps her hand hold up the phone

“N-not very good Mr. Everts… I’m having trouble remembering…some things…” to this he responded with a deep sigh that melted into a groan, she could feel his smile fade with her words, but he had needed to know. “Please Mr. Everts, I don’t mean to annoy you, I had only hoped you’d fill in some gaps…” an insecurity to her tone, feeling the tension slowly start to dissolve before he replies again with a soft hearty laugh

“I see young girl; your brain must be suppressing some things in an attempt to protect you. Could I come get you from your motel and take you elsewhere to clear your mind? I’m sure the smell is getting to you” Somehow his words made it sound like he knew her father’s corpse was only feet away from her beginning to pucker and bloat. How long had she been out? How long had the body been there? It had to have been a few days for the smell and appearance to be this bad, right?

“Yes please, please come get me!” she cries, not wanting to think about how old the blood on her body was or how she’d come to be covered in it to begin with. Today was beginning to be much worse than she’d ever planned when suddenly there’s a knocking at the door

“Then come outside my love, daddy’s here” he hums through the phone, making her pause and stare at the door…He…He did this…Is he…Is he going to kill her too? “Don’t be shy my sweet flower, come say hello” he coos once more, trying to lure her from her nest, but Valerie is unable to move despite standing only a few feet from the unlocked door. She watches as the handle turns left all the way “Hello?! Are you alright?!” his tone drowning with worry as the handle twists all the way to the right “Say something” he once again cries, throwing the door open to the vision of his beautiful little girl, the fruit of his labor and the love of his life. Their eyes lock, making him visibly swoon “You look so beautiful all painted up for daddy” He closes the distance between them, taking hold of her sides as his thumbs softly rub her love-handles and he washes her over with his gaze once more “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more beautiful” he whispers before his lips press to her jawline, making her body tremble “Valerie, it’s okay. I stayed by your side for these last 4 days, but I didn’t want to scare you…I couldn’t be here when you woke, I’m so terribly sorry…” what had he meant by that? He’s been here with her? What had she done with him on those days and why could she not remember…?

“What are you talking about!” she screams, shoving him to the ground before plopping down onto the bed with an ugly sob “What would you have been doing here for the last four days if I wasn’t awake! Why are you doing this to me!” she wails, slamming her fists into her own stomach a few times “Or am I right to believe I was involved somehow?”

“Involved?” he repeats, as though the word is foreign to him before he erupts with laughter “Such a shame, we’ll have to fix that broken memory of yours right away” with this he pushed himself upward and onto his feet in one swift motion, who the hell is this dude? “But first, I will need you to listen little girl. Come here” he snips, curling his finger in towards himself to direct her.

‘Do I have a choice? What will happen if I don’t? And why didn’t he answer my question’ these were the thoughts that plagued her mind as she obediently hoisted herself upward to her feet and under the arm of the man that obviously murdered her father.

“Atta Girl” He chirps, walking her out the deep green door towards a short maroon 2004 Mercury Marauder with smoky gray leather seats and interior, upon closer inspection she finds the windshield cracked and the radio removed. He let go of her long enough to toss the door open and shove her into the vehicle, but rather than go around the car he scoots along the front of the seats to the driver’s side, pulling the passenger door closed behind him. He starts the car as his eyes lock with hers intently “Please smile little one, you’re going to remember everything soon” somehow, she knew this was meant to calm her, but those words had an effect neither of them could have predicted. As the car backs up, jolting her body forward she grips the car door and the dash as a flash of the days that lead to these events fills her head.

An image of Valerie covered with blood, wearing a crazed grin as a camera films “My, my, such a beautiful girl painted up for daddy…Do you enjoy this? Does it feel good when you remember how it feels to be happy? Such a gorgeous smile you have little one” the man behind it booms, that strange familiar voice. Who is that? It felt as though she was looking through a smudged lens at the world surrounding her “I will be the protector of your memories my love, never again will you feel isolated or trapped. Never again will I allow anything to harm you, my sweet dove. That sick bastard didn’t deserve a daughter as perfect as you, therefore I will take you myself. And through experimentation you will be reborn as my daughter” the camera moves as he draws closer to my face, Everts!!!! He cups her cheek softly, why does his voice sound so melodic right now compared to real life and what does this memory mean? Valerie snaps back to reality as suddenly as she had left it, staring down at the rubber mat place below her feet

“Where are we going?” she mumbles, feeling her palms and hairline begin to sweat “And how much longer? I’m…I’m tired…” a soft tremble to her words, showing that same insecurity that drew him towards her to begin with. He quickly takes her hand in his, resting the two on her thigh as he spoke

“Back to our nest my little dove, it will be quite a while I’m afraid. If you wish to sleep, you can lean on daddy. I promise you’ll be safe” he softly coos, something that once was so comforting felt like a death sentence

“That’s okay…I’ll be alright…daddy” the word felt like vomit leaving her mouth, nothing could be more revolting, but a smile rested comfortably on his face after she had knighted him with his self-proclaimed title “Could you tell me more about our nest?” she hums softly, looking out her window onto the horizon as she buckles herself in the seat more securely not wanting to look towards him.

“It’s out of state I’m afraid, so that beautiful home you wished to tour will be left to collect dust. I have many homes I’ve strategically purchased around the united states and a few in Italy, but we won’t be leaving the country anytime soon. It is in a small town just outside of Bozeman, Montana. It is a very beautiful place, you can see the mountains so that’s a plus, but there’s also a lot of eyes, it is a heavily populated town and for good reason. The home itself is rather cheery and wooden, far from the town for good reason and it overlooks a lake.” The way he spoke made him almost seem normal to her, like he felt panicked for being ‘put on the spot’ and was trying to push past the feeling. Why did he feel so eerie before? She leans closer to the window, feeling the vibration of the car rock her into a deep sleep with an uncertainty towards the days to come.

Sunlight pours in through the windows like an estuary the rays penetrated the glass with ease as it lacked any form of tinting, the light was blinding to sleep covered eyes making life just a little harder for the teen girl “Mhhh!” she groaned, stretching as she sat up off the lap of her captor, it felt so good to sleep after processing so much, but immediately she is reminded of her situation

“Did you sleep well my little dove?” He coos, eyes focused on the road as he awaits her response. It had taken a moment for her to realize, but Valerie remembered falling asleep on the door against the window…Although she had avoided it before her eyes locked on the face that she once found so charming

“Did you…move me?” Irritation tainted each syllable of this question as her eyes burned holes into his soul as she waited for him to confirm what she already knew; it was a way of telling herself she wasn’t crazy.

“Yes, you looked so uncomfortable away from daddy…” he pouted, pushing his lower lip out as though it would influence her response at all. Why did he need to move her onto his lap?! So close to his…Her face turns bright red as she looks away from him, no telling what he could have done to her whilst she slept. Valerie was known to be able to sleep through a hurricane, her mother used to have to carry her sleeping body to the shower and drench her just to get her to school on time because standing her up stopped working after she’d gotten used to it. “I’ve seen that look before; you needn’t worry… I would never taint your purity without permission. I may have my warts, but things of that nature don’t suit my fancy…” meaning he did want her, but is it possible he expects her to want him in time? Rubbing her eyes, the girl yawns softly

“Well good…I don’t think I’d handle something like that very well…” there was truth to her words, but the way she phrased it was incorrect. She was relieved to find out he was not a self-proclaimed rapist, but this brought another question to her attention. He has his warts, but not of that nature…What nature does suit his fancy? She’d hoped it was her paranoia telling her what he fancied was far worse, and turned to her captor sleepily “Just…don’t touch me when I’m sleeping” she huffs, why was this something that needed to be said? It felt like common sense to Valerie, but not all monsters are cut from the same tattered cloth. “How close are we?” her soft quaking voice whispered as the young girl pulled her knees towards her chest and wrapped her slightly muscular arms around them before resting her chin on her knees.

“Only a few miles now. Did you want to stop and get something to eat? Stretch? Use the Bathroom? You know…Normal Human Road-trip activities…”It was clear he felt a little less comfortable with her after being reprimanded “Suppose I can hardly remember what other humans do anymore” he nervously chuckles, slowing the car a bit as his eyes wash Valerie over “I know…I can be a bit much, but I only have your best intentions in mind. I hate to admit I’ve been insensitive…I had time to think on this whilst you slept. I was not sure, but it felt like you were scared of me yesterday…and well, you’ve confirmed that today… with your response to something I’d hoped to be a kind gesture, I will admit I have not had much interaction with other people since college.” He pauses and looks away from her, back to the road, returning to normal speed in one smooth motion. Taking a deep breath Xavier continues in an unsteady tone “What I am hoping to convey is that, I am no threat to you Valerie Amerai Bonna-velt. I may be terrible with social skills and it’s possible my attempts at affection are more…creepy…than…romantic.”

“But?” She hums, leaning back in her chair so her spine is straight as her eyes look expectantly at him. She’d only had him in her life for a few days and already she expected so much of him. Was she starting to care? “But you killed my father?” suddenly the car screeches to a halt skidding towards the side of the road before he turns to face Valerie; the nineteen-year-old Mongolian American whose forehead is resting on the dash thanks to such an abrupt stop.

“I am not the one who killed that man Valerie, you are” the words clap against her ear drums like a gunshot, echoing all the way down her spine as he gripped her wrists “I was hoping to show you the video…but you went and made me spoil the cinematic reveal” he giggles, sounding pleased with himself as Xavier jerks the young girl closer, he was in his late sixties despite not looking a day over twenty-two and much stronger than Valerie despite his nerdy weakling façade “I know this is a lot, and although I love to watch a mind deteriorate…” He pauses, dragging his tongue over his upper lip as though thinking about changing his mind “…I want you to ease into these memories…You had to know the truth, but sometimes these things can be easier if you don’t try to rush it and force my hand. You could have remembered on your own in a few weeks, days or hours, but I wanted to at least wait until you were able to isolate yourself in a room away from me.” What was that? Did his personality start to act up, but he brought it back down to a normal level? What is this guy’s deal? “Suppose now that you know it’s inside the car, I’ll have to ask you to be patience an-”

“That’s okay… I’d rather put off…knowing all the details for now…If what you say is true, then this is probably my last happy day…funny because yesterday was probably one of the worst days of my life…” Valerie forces a laugh, wanting to conceal the shattering pieces leftover from her crumbling sanity. “Food does sound nice…” she whimpers softly, wanting to sway the conversation elsewhere as quickly as possible, to this Xavier swoons letting out a deep hum towards her

“This is why I love you, you really get me” he lets go of her, turning to start the car back up with little trouble “We should learn to focus on the good and a full tummy sounds brilliant!” he coos, pulling away from the shoulder and back onto the highway “What sorts of foods suit your fancy?” he hums, using that phrase again

But things of that nature don’t suit my fancy

What sorts of foods suit your fancy?

“I prefer something salty or savory, sweet things don’t suit my fancy” She hums, being nonspecific as always “I will admit I am being vague because I don’t want to displease you, it’s such a pain to deal with going back and forth over and over….” Her father had a funny way of convincing her to pick whilst rejecting every option she chose until she suggested what he originally wanted to begin with. The entire mess was frustrating for Valerie, she could hardly imagine a person who could stand a situation like that, but she was never a girl of patience.

“Aw how cute, you used my favorite phrasing! Hmmm…Salty or Savory? What a shame you don’t like sweets, there are lots of bakeries on the map. Well what about pizza?” he chimes, trying to cover everything she’s said to him, to prove his willingness to listen “It’s only sweet depending on your toppings and cheese is normally pretty sodium heavy”

“Fantastic idea!” She booms, leaning against the door as she watches him juggle driver and navigating. Something about this struggle was amusing to her, it was in no where near the suffering she’d endured as well as apparently creating it. Her smug grin fades, what an odd thing to find amusing…

The Arrival; Life’s gift

The cabin was a warm sandy tan, the outside looking as though full logs were stacked on top of each other to form the walls despite having such large full windows and crystal doors that slide open like a window laying on it’s side. What a beautiful home! Valerie forces a sweet smile as she rushes to the entrance running her fingers over the smooth glass of the door as her eyes wash over the pitch steel borders that kept the crystal in place. On either side of the door are golden dragons carved into the light wood, she can hardly stop herself from running her fingers over the glistening design “How much does a place like go for anyway?” she slurs, her eyes bouncing from her new shelter to Xavier

“To be perfectly candid, I do not remember. It may have been a gift from one of my admirers or one of the homes purchased by my parents…The décor will most certainly remind me where this cabin came from.” He closes the distance between himself and the young girl before nudging her with his hip “Open the door for me, my sweet dove” the sounds of pleasure rippling in throughout his voice as he watched a shiver jolt up the young girl’s spine.

“What did I tell you? That makes me so uncomfortable…” Valerie groans, sliding the door open for the lengthy man as he stumbled inside holding several boxes and bags, he had clearly prepared for this trip. Had he known they’d need to flee Premont, Texas? She felt deep inside herself that those videos contained a truth beyond that of her father’s demise. Valerie rubs her arms softly before entering the home, inside was dozens of family photos, anchors, and sea shells as if the entire home had been decorated with an ocean side theme “So? Parents? Or lovers?” she calls into the house. Quickly she follows behind her voice deeper into the cabin, where her feet meet the animal skin rugs stacked on top of one another about the room, nearly covering all the cherry-wood that made up the floor. The room was small compared to the rest of the house, with a large “L” shaped couch in the center of the room with many colorful pillows with words like “Live, Laugh, Love” written in cursive “God it’s so cozy I can literally feel the sea of big fluffy blankets and fuzzy socks beginning to smother me” she calls, fake dying as her body plops onto the plush coffee sofa

“Oh, don’t complain, we won’t be staying here long.” He huffs, sitting down near the young maiden’s feet as he leans deep into the couch as a sigh of relief blooms from his pouty lips “You could have assisted me in moving our luggage”

“Assist my kidnapper in moving his luggage and my stolen stuff? Do you ever listen to yourself when you speak?” she snips back quickly, hearing the smile on his face as he sits up, hunching over as his elbows rest on his knees and his finger intertwine

“I hardly kidnapped you, you walked with me to the car with no resistance and you didn’t try to run at Luigi’s Haunted Pizza, so I could very easily disagree with you. The same as any jury would, evidence makes a case young Bonna-velt and I’m afraid the proof is not on your side” Valerie could not stand his smugness, although this was only the case because Xavier was exposing the truth, although her terror served as a mental block she’d shown no sign of trying to escape this man’s clutches. Why was that? Was it the information he had about the four nights escaping her memory? Or the fear of starting over fresh with an unfamiliar face? She’d spent so many years living with her father, with no friends or family members to lean on her father was truly all she had left in this world and the moment he was gone, she latched onto this parasite as though it was a host. “Are you ready for tonight’s examination?” he hums, looking her over with an intense gaze “There’s been no resurface of your abilities during our trip, this leads me to believe you have a specific trigger that allows you to use those gifts” did he mean the body enhancers he injected into me the first night we met?

“Not now…I want to nap first, it’s been a long day of really bad news…I really just want to sleep…” suddenly the couch depresses, like something is crawling over her body, she feels warm thighs pushing her knees into her stomach by raising her thighs. She looks up to see him pressing his manhood to her crotch as he leans over her small frame, beginning to kiss her neck and collar bone as his arm slides under the back of her left shoulder. He cups the nape of her neck, looking deep into her eyes with a burning desire

“Tell me you’ll let me hold you whilst you sleep?” He whimpers, resting his chin on the tops of her breasts “It would be an honor to protect you throughout the night” she felt there was more to this than what he gave away, but whether she wanted to or not he quickly flipped the two so his body was below her on the opposite side of the couch “Cuddle into me and christen me yours forever” these words were so intense, what had he wanted her to say? Gripping onto his shirt, she stares down at him like a deer in the headlights very obviously afraid of such a sudden advance towards her.

“I don’t think so…You really ought to go…” She whispers, climbing of his body with great struggle as he tries to hold her close to him, Valerie disliked this pressure and although she wanted so badly to be held until all her problems could melt into the sound of two hearts beating. “Goodnight Everts…” She hums, wandering off into the home to find a bed to sleep in, when the sound of a vhs tape playing floods the air as a light flickered through a cracked door at the end of the hall. Valerie held her breath as she heard her own voice whine “I don’t wanna do this, I wanna sleep!” it was very clearly her, but it sounded much more intoxicated than she was.

“Val? What are you doing?! Who is this guy?! Val?! VALERIE!”

Daddy! Her eyes swarm with tears as she runs to the room, knocking the door open with such great force that the metal door makes a depression where it met the wall as her eyes meet with a flickering light. When her eyes finally adjust to the monitor’s blinding blue light, Valerie recognizes herself standing next to a liquified blur of reds, pinks, browns and grays, what on earth is that? She leans into the screen trying to take a better look at blob when suddenly it solidifies reforming the man she called father gasping for air, suppose lungs don’t work in liquid form.

“Valerie…Valerie please”

Tears swell in the young girl’s eyes as she watches her father plead with a dead-eyed version of herself, the mindless woman one screen crouches down looking him deep into his eyes “Solid, Gaseous, Liquid…Let us see if we can do all at once” the girl whispers forcing his mouth open as her fingers glow a bright white, making the saliva in his mouth and throat a solid. As her father chokes, trying to pull the brittle saliva from his throat as the beastress cackles

“Such a beautiful girl, are you enjoying your new powers? Show me more, show daddy what you can do” a voice off camera cheers, as Valerie’s father looks at the man behind the voice with terror as the dead eyed Valerie grips his body at a couple different areas and with a flash of light she changes his body into a mess of liquids, colored gases and hardened flesh.

“Just like ice” the girl cries slamming her fist into the upper half of his skull, watching the ice-like matter shatter and scatter about the room like red shards of glass. Valerie looks away from the screen, unable to watch herself rage like a brat being denied of something it wants as she vomits into the hall “h-how could I do this?” she trembles through rough gags, the world around her beginning to twirl like a ballerina. You did it Valerie, you did it without hesitation and you put this on mom. “YOU MONSTER! HOW COULD YOU?” Valerie cries at herself, feeling the ground quake below her, as her brain swells with memories of abuse, years of mental and physical abuse. NO, IT’S NOT HIS FAULT! HE WAS TOO DRUNK TO UNDERSTAND! IT WAS NOT FAIR! NO! He did this! He did this to me… She slams her fists into the sides of her skull as tears stream down her face, why did he do this to her? What has she become? These feelings bring upon an unknown feeling that boils up inside her bringing forward the quirk named Matter Manipulation; the name is suddenly all she can think about, but where had it come from?

“Valerie! Valerie!” Xavier cries, rounding the corner as the world around him suddenly begins to mold and change “Valerie no!” He cries as his body freezes in place, standing frozen like stone as he stared into her eyes. His legs beginning to change color and collapse below him as the blood in his legs solidifies “Please! STOP IT VALERIE! PLEASE I LOVE YOU!” he sobs in terror, but his wails fall upon deaf ears as Valerie closes the distance between the two of them and grip his neck tightly turning it into a floating blur of flesh colored liquids. The sounds of the tape rewinding replacing a theme song, the vhs tape beginning once again as her hands grip his shoulders

“Wait Gorgeous! I have something to tell you, darling. That dress is so snug, it really suits my fancy” Xavier calls through the screen, putting more emphasis on his favorite phrase when it suddenly becomes clear to Valerie. She’d noticed every time he used that phrasing her brain became fuzzy and she felt more inclined to listen to him, it was clear he’d kept her under this state when the effects of his serum were most potent.

“Your ability…what is it?” she snips, reforming his throat to its solid form. He stumbles forward gripping onto her, his head spinning as she watches him gasp and choke on the very air he has been deprived of. How cute! Look at him struggle! A smile plays on her lips as she steps back watching him fall onto his hands and knees

“My sweet dove, please, I’ve done nothing to deserve this treatment and being tortured doesn’t suit my fancy” He whines, trying once again to strain her consciousness to no avail, she pushes her power hard against him once more watching him squirm in agony before gasping for air once again “Fine…It’s called Deception;  it’s the ability to change what a person feels or sees, I can only maintain this ability for 6 days and my strength over a person’s mind varies on the amount of trust I have between myself and that person….the less a person trusts me the harder it is to maintain the false reality… and your power is a chemical mixture of my own ability and several others….those samples were extracted through forcible autopsy…”Forcible autopsy? Does that mean he’s made a name for himself? He’d never been direct with her before, but she knew immediately this was the standard, a form of expectation for future acquaintances.  A smile spreads across her face as she grips his throat from behind pushing him deep into the wood as she twirls planting her behind onto the arch of his back before her palms glow sliding from his neck down his spine liquifying his essence

The Heroes’ Arrival; Save Me

Had either of them thought this through?! Had she even considered repercussions for her actions? Although she’d hardly had time to adapt to these new memories, there was no time to watch the puppeteer draw his last breath. She releases him from her hold, exposing herself for the monster she is as the thick black smoke that makes us her body is wavered by someone busting in the front door, the glass shattering and bouncing off various areas around the entrance.

“Doctor Everts” a strong woman’s voice calls, as the sound of footsteps advancing towards the pair fills the silence. Damn it! Unable to hold him and continuously restructure the liquid formation of his throat as her time limit was 30 seconds without contact, but luckily his throat would likely reform with some sort of mutation as she didn’t maintain it’s shape up until it’s reforming. She leaps up from his body, rushing for a window in the back room behind the stack of screens and vhs players, Valerie tosses the rack holding the monitors down onto the door jamming it shut. She pushes off the toppled metal rack she grips onto the windowsill pulling herself through the window and onto slick dew-covered grass that leads into a forest of some kind, pushing off the ground with her hands she takes off into full sprint, no sense in trying to save energy if she has no idea how to control this stupid ability! She tries snapping her fingers and focusing as she builds the distance between herself and the heroes who would never understand the ever-growing hollowness inside her, she’d become a murder, there was no other path for her.

((This is where the road forks, for those of you who wish to save this pitiful hate-birthed beast then this is where your character will enter as either a hero or villain, either way you must play an ally))

((For those of you who wish to have a more matured/seasoned villain you will continue from here and reply to the end of this post))

 A Decade to Fester; They Do Not Dare Defy Me

Many years have past since the day Matter Manipulation was gifted to young Valerie, a decade to be quite precise and as the temptress neared her thirties a broiling need to be acknowledged by the world grew in its wake. She’d wasted enough time training, scheming, and waiting for a day when the world would be forced to face pain beyond their feeble little dreams.

“Aqua Regia!” Darius booms, entering her chambers with a concerned expression rest on his glowing ocean eyes as they lock onto the voluptuous Valerie, he was her second in command and most trusted ally, the one who saved her from the cruelty of those who held the title of Heroes. Those who would brand her very soul with a bible of law; a law book sewn together by the suffering and consumption of it’s own people, written in the blood of every less than fair pigment or disobedient civilian by sadists and hypocrites. “Val, please we must speak of the mission to come. If either you or I were to misstep we would lose the very foundation of all that we have built, quickly dear girl we mustn’t waste time” with this he waved me towards the door as his soft poetic mannerisms lull her senses into a calm

“Yes, Of course, but please Avalon do not fret, you are the key to my throne and with you I will forge a Camelot that would put Tartarus to shame” Aqua Regia coos, slipping from her solid form into a smoke like cloud to enhance her speed as she moves towards the villain Elusion with the quirk Escape Artist or the ability to find an escape plan for any situation, the back lash is sometimes there really is no escape although he has yet to stumble upon this problem. Valerie is able to return to solid form by keeping hands, heart and lungs solid inside the smoke form otherwise her body would remain gaseous until reaching the limited amount of time. This time gap started at thirty seconds, but after nearly a decade of training she can hold most things in any of the three forms for a whole hour, sadly no human can hold their breath for an hour so the gift has become rather tricky to maneuver without sparing a few insignificant lives. As her body slowly reforms Darius takes this time to go over some of our earlier successes

“Indeed, Queen Arthur” He would start, wanting to begin on her good side “The first two steps of our plan have come to fruition with very minor mishaps, the pot has been stirred as you say. Drug Families are at each other’s throats trying to find the rat amongst them, unaware it was the clients who sold them to the pros. Secondly, all of the bombs went off without a hitch, except the last hospital apparently a hero arrived in time to stop both with seconds to spare.” His face remained calm and hard like a statue, he knew this would make her erupt furious that anyone was able to catch onto her scheme “But we’ve reached the results you hoped for Ms. Regia, the pros have all eyes on you for the show tonight.” Despite the second step having a few misfires everything was going according to plan.

“Well…At least things are still moving forward, are the boys reaching out to the head of each family as we speak?” She groans, clearly annoyed with the lack of security in her strategy, nothing is guaranteed and yet she’d hoped this would as close to guaranteed as physically possible. The two descend the stairs her warm honey eyes scan the crumbling lot for any sign of you, surely you knew she would be here awaiting your arrival, her lower lip presses out in a pout as she looks to her partner “Suppose they didn’t understand the clues that we left with each body?”

“Nonsense Mistress, you were very careful to be as obvious as possible” He assures her as she pauses, lingering at the window from the second floor. She was much taller now due to the various hormones and chemical injected into her body all those years ago, her hair was a long chocolate stream of shiny wavy locks and her once ashen tan skin soon became a warm mocha. Her once boxy frame had smoothed over into a more feminine look, being replaced with an hourglass figure. “Forgive my sentiment, but you’ve come too far Valerie to ever be made a fool of again.” Her heart sang at his sweet words, a smile resting comfortably on her lips.

“Thank you” she whispers, reaching for the illusion of her dear friend when the door flies off it’s hinges into the stairs. It would appear that they’ve arrived and so abruptly. Valerie growls under her breath, trying to maintain her composure as the hero/villain enters “I’m relieved you decided to show your face, this will feel all the sweeter” her palms glowing a golden color as she stands in an offensive position

((Comment Alpha1 if you want to save her as a child and change her fate as a hero or comment Alpha2 if you want to be a villain that assists her as a child. If you wanted to fight older Valerie as a hero comment Beta1 or if you want to be a villain that recruits older Valerie comment Beta2))

Name: Valerie Amerai Bonna-Velt

Villain name; Aqua Regia

Age: 19 or 29

Ability: Matter Manipulation; the ability to change and mold the shape/state of matter for limited amounts of time (Overuse of this ability results in a loss of free will; becoming an obedient zombie)

Appearance; Valerie is a 5’2 tall girl who weighs one-hundred-twenty-five pounds, she has a large behind and C cup breasts with warm thick thighs that meet at a waist that appears to be smaller due to wide hips and broad shoulders. When she was 19 her hair was a raven black, but now it resembles a dark chocolate brown with a healthy shine that she’s most definitely proud of! Her eyes are slanted, narrow and a light honey colored with short lashes that thick around the outer corner of her eyes on the top and bottom. Her eyebrows are thick and well groomed, but sparse with a very high arch. (Very bottom-heavy frame!)

Blood type: O negative

Height; 5’2

Weight; 125 lbs.

Weaknesses; Valerie’s powers cannot break the law of conservation (matter cannot be created or destroyed. Therefore, there must be the same number of atoms of each element on each side of a chemical equation.) She is also unable to hold an object in a state foreign to its nature for longer than her time limit (Starts at 30 seconds and ends with 1 hour) The heart, lungs and hands are exposed in gaseous form. Her circulatory system slowly shuts down in solid form and she runs the risk of losing limbs if she over uses it, not to mention solid form is as fragile as ice. Finally, in liquid form she cannot reform herself and must wait for the time limit to pass (She doesn’t really use it)

[avi-stella]

By Your Side | Edelgard x Rei 》 RATING: General | GENRE: Hurt/ Comfort(?)/ Fluff | 1,094 words Writing for art trade with @cattestfanciest Thank you again for trading with me!

The Training Grounds are empty, many of the students busy with their own assignments or errands or otherwise still tucked in bed and fast asleep this early in the morning, but Rei decides to make good use of his time. With a training sword in hand and having already finished stretching and warming up, he gets into his usual stance and begins. He starts with a few sets of rhythmic swings to get into the groove of things before taking his training further.

He works on his posture, his grip on the hilt, his movements from one stance to another. Rei works on anything and everything he can possibly think of that needs improving, and it's a sharp blow to his self-esteem when he realizes that he needs to work on almost everything. With sweat framing his forehead and his punctuated grunts that matched his swings and thrusts ringing in the air, he recalls his embarrassing defeat from a few days ago.

The student had challenged Hubert to a duel of sorts. There was no real reason; he simply wanted to test his strength against Edelgard's right-hand man. He didn't expect the noble to accept, but to his surprise, he did. And Hubert completely and utterly delivered a crushing defeat to Rei. It wasn't in the aspiring knight's nature to let something like that get to him, but the way Hubert looked down on him was something else entirely.

“Try as you might, you will never be able to reach Lady Edelgard's level,” he spoke coldly, and his tone left no room for arguments. “She is far above you and untouchable.”

Something about Hubert's words stirred something in Rei's heart. He was always an earnest young man to begin with, but that mocking tone from the one closest to the Adrestian Empire's heir made him want to try harder and push himself well beyond his limits as though to prove Hubert wrong. It was the only thing on his mind. To get stronger so that he can be worthy of standing by the side of the one he admires so much.

The exhaustion of his rigorous training eventually catches up to Rei, and he has no choice but to give his aching muscles a break. With a dull thud, he allows himself to collapse onto the ground, the stone floor cool against his warmed back. He stares up at the sky, so blue and clear. If he were to be poetic, then perhaps he could compare Edelgard to the sky above him, always there and also…

 …so out of reach.

Rei's eyes fall shut, and he loses himself in his thoughts. He wonders to himself if he can ever be the knight he hopes to become, and if one day, he'll have the honour of calling himself the Imperial princess' equal.

“Lady Edelgard…” He breaths out the young woman's name without meaning to, his voice sounding wistful as her name leaves his lips.

“What is it?”

Rei's eyes immediately snap wide open, only to be greeted by none other than Edelgard's face peering down at him, and rather closely at that. His mind lags behind for a moment before his cheeks flush, and he gasps. In his flustered haste to compose himself to a more proper state to address the woman, Rei's knee-jerk reaction is to spring himself upwards, but that was probably a bad idea. His forehead collides with Edelgard's own, effectively headbutting her and inadvertently ending up hurting both of them.

Both students practically keel over, hands over their heads to soothe the ache while simultaneously groaning in pain. To an outsider, it might look like a comical scene, but Rei is nothing short of horrified. He bows his head repeatedly, ignoring how the action made the injury worse while continuous apologies spill from his mouth.

Edelgard waves her hand in a dismissive manner and collects herself soon enough. “It's fine,” she assures him with an awkward cough to clear her throat. “Though do be more careful next time.”

“Yes, of course… I'm sorry,” he meekly apologizes one last time before changing the topic to ask a question. “Why are you here?”

“The professor noticed and expressed concern that you were neglecting your health in favour of reckless training instead. As your House leader, I felt obligated to check up on you.”

Rei shakes his head from side to side, perhaps a bit too overzealous at her concern for him and for bothering her with something like this. “Oh, no, it's fine! I'm fine, so there's nothing to worry about! And besides…” The young man trails off for a moment and becomes quiet. A brief look of melancholy flashes across his face before he shakes it away, mustering up a wavering smile instead and continues, “I can't be of use to you if I can't handle at least this much.”

Edelgard stares at the student's face, carefully processing his words. She almost looks troubled, and she shakes her head. “There's no need to try so hard,” she assures him. Her voice sounds softer than usual. “You should know that I already rely on you, and it's more than enough to simply have you stay by my side and be my ally.”

It isn't just pretty words she's spouting to make her fellow student feel better. It's the truth. With the things she plans to do in the future, she understands that she will garner much hatred and anger from all sorts of people. She is prepared to accept it all, but she would be lying to herself if she said she didn't need allies. She does. She needs him. Edelgard breaks herself away from her depressing thoughts and finds Rei smiling brightly at her. “I will always be your ally, Lady Edelgard. I will stay by your side for as long as you'll allow it,” he promises, his sincerity shining behind his eyes.

The princess seems surprised from his response, but it makes her heart feel all warm and fluttery. Her expression becomes endearingly soft, a rare sight to behold, and a small smile tugs at her lips. She nods her head in acknowledgement, finding herself too embarrassed to properly respond with words. Instead, she suggests that the young man take a break and invites him to accompany her to the dining hall to eat.

Rei's entire face lights up, and he eagerly nods his head to accept. After putting the training equipment away, Rei joins up with Edelgard once more, his steps matching hers in perfect harmony as they head out.

[mobius-prime]

105. Sonic the Hedgehog #62

Icon

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: Steven Butler Colors: Frank Gagliardo

Sonic and Tails continue their search for Naugus, flying over a desert in the middle of nowhere, when they abruptly begin to run into engine trouble. Sonic tries to find a safe place to land, and manages to aim the plane directly at the only tree in the entire desert, crashing and uprooting it. Great job, buddy!

Uh, sure, Mr. Rabbit Man! This issue contains some flash…aways? (I feel like that's the only logical thing to call something that isn't a flashback but acts like one, as a break from the main action. I dunno man.) We get to see Snively biding his time in the Devil's Gulag, and actually get some new info on the place, namely that the place is named for the fact that the island the prison resides on is surrounded by volcanoes that superheat the ocean water around it, causing the waters to boil with no obvious method of getting away, which is about as close to hell as you can get on this mortal plane. Snively keeps bragging about how he's trained up his mind and body to escape, flexing some pathetically tiny arm muscles while Drago laughs his head off at him, and really, can you blame him for laughing? Snively is about as threatening as the Universalamander's original form at this point. Back to Sonic, and we learn that this tank-drivin' cybernetic-eye-havin' rabbit, named Jack, is just an honest to god huge fan of Sonic's, going so far as to take inspiration from the Freedom Fighters and modeling his own band after them to drive back Robotnik's sub-bosses in the area. But that's not the only trouble they face…

For whatever reason, these Robians never got the memo that they were free of Robotnik's control, much like the Mercian Robians, and they've been viciously attacking Jack and his band of Sand-Blasters. Sonic hops out of the tank and impresses Jack by creating a tornado with the sheer power of his spinning speed, sending all the attacking Robians flying. He gets back from his show of heroics just in time to be dazzled by the sight of Jack's city in the distance, glowing amongst orange rocky cliffs with a bright yellow forcefield grid stretching over the entire thing. And here, as they enter the city, is where we come to the first of what I'll go ahead and call the "satellite sequences." Remember that, 'cause I won't show them all as many look very similar, but they're very important to note, now that they've started showing up.

What's going on here? What's activating? What's it locking onto, and perhaps most importantly - who's activating it? All answers that will come in time…

Inside the city, everyone is greatly pleased to have the hero Sonic himself here to help them defend their land. Sonic initially thinks they're going to a nice hotel where they can rest, but nope, they're going to the "most important spot in town," which turns out to be…

…a little much, don't you think? I mean, be real, first of all - that's not even how Sonic would be posing after a battle. It makes him look all solemn and grandiose, when the real Sonic is more prone to, I dunno, running around talking smack, grinning like an idiot, and stuffing his face with chili dogs after a battle. Jack is hopeful that now that they have the real Sonic around to help them, they may be able to drive off the hostile Robians and no longer have to rely on the forcefield surrounding their city to protect themselves. Back we go to the Devil's Gulag, where Snively is reclining on his bed and filing his nails while detailing all the dastardly things he plans to do once he escapes his cell. Naturally, Drago isn't having it.

…well, that was easy.

Back in Sand-Blast City, the next morning, Tails awakens while Sonic is still asleep, only to worryingly find their room's door locked from the outside. He initially thinks they've become prisoners while they slept, but then finds a skylight open for him to fly out of. He heads out to find Jack and his team covering Sonic's biplane with a tarp, and questions them on why. Interestingly as well, this is the first time we see Tails' eyes depicted as blue. It's only for a couple of panels as he flies out of the room to investigate, but as you might know, at this time the Sonic Adventure game was being developed (this issue came out in mid-1998, the game was released in December of the same year) and that game was the first to depict everyone with colorful eyes instead of the usual black pupils. The comic actually found a way to handle that transition, but it wasn't always smooth, as we'll see.

Sonic, don't be getting lazy on us now! Naugus may have already put his cloudy face back together, after all! We end on one final shot of the pandemonium unfolding in the Devil's Gulag, as Drago, Sleuth, the Fearsome Foursome, and even ol' Nack the Weasel begin a riot that spreads through the whole prison…

On His Majesty's Secret Service (Part 2)

Writer/Colors: Ken Penders Pencils: Art Mawhinney  

This story begins right where the previous one left off - turns out Geoffrey didn't get a good night's sleep after all, because as soon as he walks into his quarters, he detects an intruder - an intruder which then explodes violently!

Oh, hey, remember these guys? They helped out way back in the Knuckles Chaotix special, apparently friends of Mighty's, but never showed up again. Well, here they are now! Also, apparently Bomb survives by transferring his artificial intelligence into a new "vessel" every time he explodes, allowing him to essentially use himself as a walking explosive, escaping digitally at the last second before he goes off. I guess that makes more sense than how Bob-Ombs work in Paper Mario, so I'll take it!

The next morning, Geoffrey gathers his new recruits - Heavy and Bomb, Hershey, Wombat Stu, and the chameleon, whose name is revealed to be Valdez - in the armory to show off a cool new weapon. It looks like a block of machinery about the same size and shape as a tube of lipstick, but when he fires it off it straight up blows a hole in the roof, because who needs the training grounds to maintain any kind of structural integrity? He then promises the sufficiently dazzled recruits that he'll work them to the bone training them for combat and secret missions until he feels that they're ready, and demonstrates this by immediately dropping a trapdoor out from under Hershey, sending her plunging into a tank of water with a mechanical shark in it. Amazing leadership skills man, I'm sure everyone will trust you with their lives after a stunt like that!

Can we just remember that Hershey didn't even volunteer for this? She even asks herself "What was I thinking when I enlisted in this," but like, girl, you didn't. This madman just told you to show up here in the morning and then surprise dunked you. You have every right to walk away right now. She doesn't, however, and Geoffrey commends Valdez and Bomb for immediately jumping in and showing a spirit of teamwork to save their fellow secret service recruit. He also yells at Hershey for being upset that she got dunked, telling everyone that they'll have to work on making up for their weaknesses. I can tell Geoffrey is going to be an instructor who's great for morale!

[knjredwluv]

Red. [1]

Red (n.)

Red could signify the color of love, passion, determination, and strength. Red could also signify blood, fire, war, desire and energy. Red is an emotionally intense color.

Title: Red

Words: 4.7k

AU: Yandere/Obssessive relationship 

Characters: Jungkook x Reader. Hoseok x Reader. OT7.

Warnings: 17+ explicit language, angst!angst!angst!, slight implications of smut, some fluff and soft moments (super fucking sappy), noona kink (if you squint reaaaaally hard), yandere/obsessive relationship (this isnt a healthy relationship and i dont promote any of this), mentions of killing, hallucinations, has very descriptive angst!!

Summary: “After the things that happened, you decided to start anew. Everything was how you thought it would be; it was simple but perfect–until you saw your name on a black envelope. Out of curiosity, you opened it; and now, you wish you didn’t.”

LIST FOR RED

CHAPTER 1

You held your phone to your ear using your shoulder. You huffed as you tried to multi-task being on the phone, walking to class and carrying a shoulder bag, laptop, books and a cup of coffee in your arms. “Can you please just do it? I have to head back to Jimin’s because he left his wallet.”

“____, as much as I love you, I will not go to your brother’s house without you. You know the look he gives me for being with you already– and you want me to go there to drop off your boxes for you.” You chuckled as he rambled and emphasized on the task you requested him to do.

“Babe, that’s just how he looks at everyone, okay? And plus, you’re bigger than him. I remember having a man for a boyfriend not a baby.” you giggle as you teased him.

“For fucks sake, ____, Your brother is a fucking cop. He looks like he hates me and he is a licensed official who can put me behind bars for, I don’t know, laughing at you when you do some stupid shit” You laugh at this because you know you’re one hell of a klutz.

“I’ll give you a blowjob if you do it” You whispered into the phone, nonchalantly. As expected, there is a small pause until you heard a groan.

“Fine, I’ll do it. You owe me big time, baby girl.”

You ended the call and texted your brother saying that Jungkook is heading over to drop off your things for your parents.

—

Bro

[12:34] Y/N: yoon

[12:34] Y/N: Jk is heading over there to bring my stuff

[12:35] Y/N: u home right?

[12:37] Bro: Nah

[12:37] Bro: not home work called but Mina is home she shuld be awake

[12:38] Y/N: Mkay ill tell him

[12:40] Bro: 👍🏻

—

Jeon♡

[12:45] Y/N: Hes not home but Mina is

[12:47] Jeon♡: Ok yessssss

[12:47] Jeon♡: but im still expecting something 👀

[12:47] Y/N: fck outta here jeon and do what u gotta do

[12:47] Jeon♡: Damn ok live u

[12:47] Jeon♡: love*** ♥️♥️

[12:48] Y/N: 🥰 love you 2

—

You shoved your phone in your bag and walked to the library. The weather was really nice. it complimented how you were dressed up for today.

Thank God, it was just for today.

Your Art Club meeting is really gonna screw you up. You really hope you ace this meeting since you stayed up all night making the power point. You’re also drowning yourself in caffeine and hoping it doesn’t spill on your new blouse. The branded shirt costed you more than your monthly grocery; and it’s not like you find it a hassle to be stylish but it’s definitely something different. It’s way different than the go-to vans and a pair of jeans with the Uni’s hoodie. Oh how you wished that’s what you were wearing right now.

After the meeting, you walked up the steps and opened the door to the University’s library. You were greeted by Namjoon, who was on his way out.

“Hey, ____. What brings you here? It isn’t Thursday today, is it?” He asked you casually while checking his Gold Casio watch. Namjoon is used to your frequent visits to the library. After working in the library for 4 out of 5 years of his Uni life, he’s accustomed to seeing you on the same desk, at the second floor, by the window. Sometimes, you’re caught doing homework, checking out Literature books or books of Art History, or probably just reading a comic book or webtoon that Jungkook told you about.

“Oh no, It’s Tuesday but I just needed to catch up with some work” accidentally bumping your elbow to the door causing you to almost drop your books but luckily, Namjoon’s instincts were fast. You quietly thanked him. “I got math to do”

“Well then,” He turned and waved “Ms. Ryu is expecting me. Good luck with math”

“Alrightie, see ya”

You walked to your usual spot and placed your laptop on the desk. You opened it and typed in the password. You grinned at the screensaver.

Oh god, it never fails to make you smile.

It was a screenshotted picture of Jungkook with ice cream of his face on your second date. It was a funny memory if you recall what happened.

“Stopppp, you’re going too hard. I might fly up” You said giggling and holding on the seesaw like it meant your life depended on it. Technically, it kind of did.

“Okay okay, i’m sorry” he said laughing at how you looked.

Both of you continued using the seesaw while casually talking about nonsense like what if aliens came and decided to rule Earth or if there was a zombie apocalypse, what you would do.

“Now that I think about it, I would find it weird that there’s two grown adults using a seesaw and eating ice cream– BUT CUTE” saying it with emphasis.

“Your right, it’s not something you see everyday” He shrugged and laughed and went back to lick his ice cream.

“Yeah, you don’t see muscle pig tatted good looking e-boy eating ice cream while using a seesaw, everyday” You teasingly said.

“What was that?” He said looking at you. You knew that he heard because his ears were starting to turn red but it didn’t stop his lips altering to a smile hearing the compliment. It was probably even boosting his ego hearing that the girl he likes called him good looking. He knew that and he always, mentally, thanked his parents and the Man above for mixing his genes well.

“Huh?” biting your lip, smiling and trying not to laugh “Oh nothing” shaking your head. You took out your phone to take a snapchat video of him holding onto the seesaw with his ice cream cone on the other hand.

He urged you to repeat it, not because of what you said, but because of how the blush crept up your face as you said it. He noticed how red your cheeks has gotten and how you adorable it is to see you this flustered.

“Say it” he whined, exaggerating the act knowing that he was being recorded. He bounced a little hard on the seesaw which caused you to jump a little. He smirked at your shocked look.

“Hmm, You wanna play that game huh?” Still taking a video, you playfully copied what he did to you which caused him to jump a little forward and the ice cream on his hand, now on the ground. His chin and mouth covered in with the dessert and his black shirt having evidence of the incident.  

“Awwww Jungkook, I’m sorry” You cooed and pouting at him. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight in front of you as you walked towards him, zooming into his face. He had a fake pout and a slight smile. Putting your phone at the back of your pocket, you took the napkin from around your cone and started to wipe his chin.

“I’m so sowwyyy”

He stared at you mischievously. You glanced into his eyes and continued to wipe his chin. He pulled your wrist down and held the sides of your face and gave you a peck on the lips. You gasp at the sudden kiss but also the feeling of the sticky sugar treat around your mouth.

“It’s okay, now we’re even” He said laughing at you, with the little pout on your face.

You smile at the memory. It reminds you how lucky you got when meeting Jungkook because not only is he caring, smart and loving, he can also be a dickhead who doesn’t take people’s shit. The duality, right? But hey, with the exception of your brother, Yoongi. He kind of isn’t ashamed to admit to you that your brother is quite intimidating and, sometimes, scare him. You’re pretty sure your brother also enjoys seeing Jungkook shit his pants whenever he sees him. His career choice, of being a police officer just adds up to the thrill of it. Although, Jungkook could be a bit younger than you, it doesn’t stop Yoongi from being protective of you. But that’s only if he is judging based on façade. Besides, he’s known Jungkook for long enough to know that he’s a keeper.

The loud sound of a book falling by the computer area brought you back to reality. You sighed and took out your math handout and begin on working out the problems.

“Now back to this shit.” You muttered. You didn’t mind doing your assignments and homework but what really irked you is that your professor never collects it. It was just the usual. He gives out assignments, expects you to do them and then pop quiz at the end of the month.

Taking a break, you leaned back into the chair and took a sip of the ice coffee you brought. You looked around while stretching and cracked your joints. It sent you a wave of relief throughout your body after solving, for God knows how long, algebra equations. You checked your phone and realized you’ve been sitting down, doing your work for 47 mins.

You stared out the window enjoying the scenery of the field and the school’s garden. What caught your eye is a group walking to the parking lot, but in this group you saw someone who thought would be familiar. You tilted your head trying to identify this person. It made you move closer to the window and you sat there with your chin on your hand, squinting your eyes for better focus. It was as if you were burning holes into this person’s back. Ironically, It was like he felt the heat behind him and he turned around. He turned around to face who could be his friends. Seeing his face, it sent chills down your spine. Blinking and shaking your head, thinking that you could be hallucinating or day-dreaming. You looked up again and couldn’t make out who they were because their friends were blocking the one who you wanted to see. Your mind became blank once again and you looked at your ice coffee.

“I really shouldn’t be drinking you, you’re starting to make me see things” you thought.

You thought that it could be the coffee. It’s already your 4th cup for the day. Although, at this rate, you don’t know if your body is immune to it because you still feel sluggish as you did this morning. You hold your head with both hands, elbows on the table, feeling a slight headache. It’s like feeling all your brain cells dying because of the caffeine overdose. You decided to shake it off and continue doing your work.

You were startled when the chair in front of you and beside you was pulled open and there sat Jimin and Taehyung. Your hands placed on your chest, you swore you that you just let out a loud shriek causing people to look at your direction.

“What the fu– don’t just randomly do that you shitheads” You whisper-yelled. You try to recover from the sudden appearance of the playful couple.

“We saw you here, hope you don’t mind we come and join you on your little study sesh”

“Not at all” You said “Oh yeah, here,” You searched in your bag for the thick leather wallet and handed it to him “Good thing you came”

"Thought you would be in class?” You asked while he shoves his wallet at the back of his pocket

“Well we finished early, Mr. Xing said he’s gonna call off for the day”

“Yeah, Poor man, been coughing all day and couldn’t sound out a syllable”

“What’s up, ____. Looking like you were shitting bricks before we gave you reason to shit bricks. What is that?” He came closer to check the assignment I was doing and to his dismay, it was math.

“Oou, well, that explains, but you good?”

“Yeah, head hurts and was thinking ‘bout some things” you mumbled.

“Well, you gotta stop overthinking, it gives you wrinkles. ‘N you know what they say about wrinkles~ they’re a sign of old age~”

“Wow, Thanks Tae” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at the two. You stayed in the library with Jimin and Taehyung talking and doing assignments and projects.

Now, you are found in Jimin’s car, releasing stress by singing your souls out to 2000s R&B. You insisted that you walk but, of course, he didn’t take no for an answer.

You were born in Daegu but your family moved to Seoul when you and Yoongi were very young. A few years ago, you decided to move in with your brother and his wife. Despite being born in the area, you felt out of place until you met Jimin and Taehyung. They were your the first set of friends that you met when you moved to Daegu. It was an easy friendship because not only that they attended DAU, Daegu Arts University, you three have the same Art History class. You’re not gonna lie but you might have had the slightest crush on Jimin during first year of Uni–that was until you find out the two were together. Hey, it didn’t hurt though, the two were like soulmates.

Checking your phone, you saw time was only 4:27 PM. You sighed realizing that you’ll have the apartment to yourself until Jungkook comes home, from his shift at the tattoo parlour, later tonight.

He was already working there when you met him. He moved away from Busan to pursue his dream in music. He asked his parents if he could move to Daegu and attend DAU. Of course, it took a toll on his parents but they let him do what he wanted. The best thing they could do was support their son on his dream; He aced a job at a tattoo parlour and he has little shows at the bars downtown, all while he was studying. He realized that it gave him satisfaction and he, secretly, took a break from school–which now, it led to him being a full-time worker at the well-known tattoo parlour. He finds that it’s nothing different if he would have finished; seeing that he didn’t need to be a college graduate to get his job. Despite those circumstances, his creativity and love for Art and Music gets him paid; and that’s what matters to him and you–that he’s happy.

“Alright,” You shut the door and tapped on the trunk “thanks boys, see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, bye, _____. Sleep well tonight, You look too sleep deprived”

“I will, drive safe, text me when you’re home”

You walked up the stairs and reached your apartment. You entered the code of the door’s lock and the door makes sound, signaling you that the doors open. You entered, taking off your shoes and hanging your coat on the coat rack. Walking towards the living room, you put your bag on the ground next to the counter which separates the living room and kitchen. Plopping down on the couch, you sighed in relief of the feeling being home and laying at the soft surface. You focused on listening to the humming of the air conditioner and then you felt your eyelids becoming heavy with every tick of the clock.  

You were awoken by the smell of food and it made you realize how hungry you were; smelling the food definitely made your stomach growl that you felt the strong vibrations. You sat up and looked around and adjusted your vision to the light. You turned around and saw Jungkook’s back. You stood up and quickly stretched and walked towards him. As you approached him, he turned around and noticed your sleepy figure about to engulf him, which was intended to be a back hug.

“Hi sleepy” He says. He placed the spoon and tupperware on the counter, hugged you back in return and left a kiss on your temple. You hummed and just hugged him tighter. Inhaling his scent of body soap and aftershave.

“Mina gave me some food when I went over there; She said you should try it and gave us a lot of it” You hummed in response.

“What is it?” Your voice husky from sleeping

“It’s a chicken stew. C’mon, get ready we’ll have dinner in a few, I’m already making rice”

“I wanna stay like this still” Your hold became tighter and he just rubbed your back. Your hunger was replaced by the feeling of ease and comfort in his embrace. You moved your face from his chest and faced him with your eyes closed and smiled at him.

“Don’t forget your little promise, baby.” He said while placing kisses all over your face. His hands sliding up and down your back and moved to grope your ass, giving it a little slap. Your eyes opened and fake disappointment washed over you.

“I really thought it was going to be a sweet moment, Jeon. You really had-” He cut you with a peck on the lips.“-to say that.” He chuckled.

“C’mon, Noona, I can be really sweet.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh my god, you’re really fucking lucky I’m a sub or else, i would have-” You cut yourself off and you smirked at him.

“Hm, feisty now, isn’t she?” You remove yourself from him and grab a cup to drink a glass of water.

“I’m sorry, JK. I’m exhausted today. I promise, on date night, okay?”

“Something happened today? I saw how busted you look on the couch when I came home– didn’t wanna wake you until I finished heating up the food” Now it was his turn to hug you first. He sat on the stool and pulled you by your shirt and wrapped his arms around your waist. He stared at you with his doe eyes until you finished drinking and placing the glass on the counter.

“Just a club meeting but I didn’t sleep last night. I had to finish the powerpoint and afterwards, I went to the library to finish off somethin’. Jimin and Tae was with me though, no worries. They dropped me home too so.” You sighed and look at him.

“That was the meeting you were talking about right? How was it? How’d it go?” He asked

“Remember the man I told you about?” He hummed in response “Well, he seemed really impressed with my presentation and the art display we made and he spoke about visiting again,” You began playing with the long strands of his fluffy, wavy hair “He said that he’ll think about doing a workshop, all expenses paid, for learning art techniques and maybe even visiting the national museum”

“I’m proud of you, ____. I know you worked hard for that. You know, being the Co-President of the Art Club.” He gushes as he rubbed circle with his thumb on your waist.

“Oh my– stop, let me get changed” You tapped his chest and leaned forward to peck his nose. 

You walked out the kitchen and headed to the bedroom and stripped to your underwear. You grabbed a towel heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. You gargled with some mouthwash and change into some boy shorts and Jungkook’s oversized sweatshirt.  

---------

“____, the table’s ready!”

“Coming, coming!”

You skipped to the kitchen and sat on the high stool opposite of Jungkook’s. You both ate dinner and shoving the last chunk of carrot into your mouth, you stacked the dishes and placed them in the sink.

“Are you scheduled to play tonight?” You asked turned your head to him as you washed the utensils.

“Yeah, Hyung said to meet at the subway. I’ll probably head out at around 30 35 mins from now?” He said questioningly, turning to look at the wall clock. It was currently 7:50 PM.

“Yup, in 30 mins or so– oh and please don’t wait up for me again. Am not sure when I’m coming but I’ll come home before it hits 1, okay?” He informs you while he removes his top and heads to the bathroom.

A little story of Jungkook and Seokjin’s relationship, Seokjin is Jungkook’s good friend who helped him move to Daegu. Jungkook and Seokjin were pretty much like roommates before you came into the picture. Besides being roommates, the pair were performers at the local bar.

That’s also how you met Jungkook. You saw him and Seokjin performing a ballad when you were with your group of friends. Eunbi, your close friend and also Seokjin’s girlfriend, introduced you to them that same night. You thought he was very attractive–like duh, who wouldn’t? You both talked and got to know some things about each other and it led to both of you exchanging numbers, texting often, meeting up for coffee or lunch. Several months later, that’s when he decided to ask you to make it official. You would visit their apartment often; it can be whenever they practiced ballads and their self-composed songs or you guys decide to have a movie night with Seokjin and Eunbi. For others, it may sound like the relationship was rushed for deciding to live together 1 year and 3 months into the relationship. It didn’t feel wrong though–as cliche as it sounds. You felt that this new start was something just like you imagined it would be.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Jungkook bent down to grab his bag that was next to you and to kiss your forehead.

“I’m heading out.” He slings the big black backpack on and walked towards the door. He stood by the front of the door struggling to put on his sneakers. “Sleep early my love” he sang stretching out each syllable. You giggled at the soft curse he did when he nearly stumbled over the slippers behind him.

“Take care,” You turned your head to look at him and to surprise you noticed his outfit.  “Oh my.. Please tell me you have a light shirt in your bag. You really gotta stop wearing all black. It’s too dark outside kook. Trust me, I’ll really buy you some twinkle toes” You said worriedly, remembering the incident that almost happened a few days ago. Stupid driver + Late night + Boyfriend in dark clothing + Walking = Not a good combination.

“Don’t worry, _____. Look, I got the shoes with the light reflectors. It’s not twinkle toes but it’s something” He smugly said with hands on his hips. You couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Okay, love you, text me if anything. Go sleep early for real, it’s an order”

“Love you too” You said sending him a flying kiss, to which he pretended to catch and smack on his cheek before he closed the door.

You decided to get ready for bed. You turned off the lights in the living room, kitchen and the mini hallway. You walked in the bathroom to do your skin care and brush your teeth. You walked in the bedroom while using your phone, checking for updates on your social media. Peeling the covers open, you laid down and tucked yourself in. You set an early alarm for the next day and put your phone down. You stared at the wall, deep in thought. You were reminded of the familiar face you saw when you were at the library. Yes, it’s been almost roughly 5 years but sometimes you can’t help but remember the painful memories. It was still vivid to you. You rubbed your face with your hands.

“I can’t believe you would do something like that. Do you not trust me?”

“___, What the fuck are you talking about? I trust you! Why are yo-” You scoffed.

“What do you mean, what the fuck I’m talking about, you know damn well what the fuck I’m talking about.” You turned to face him.

“____.” He calmly looks at you and held your arm but you pulled away.

“Why the fuck would you send threats to my classmate? I told you we were just doing a project and it’s not like we were alone… I don’t even know him that well for you to accuse me of something”

“I didn’t even accuse you of anything, ___. Stop saying shit right now.” He rolled his eyes and turned away from you. You looked at him is disbelief.

“So texting someone like ‘hey, im ___’s boyfriend, and i need you to back tf away from her. I see the way you look at her’ blah blah blah and ‘if not, i know where you live and i swear ill torture tf outta you’ is not a threat? You’re already accusing me and someone else for doing something we didn’t do” He noticed your rage and turned around and walked towards you.

“___, It’s not like that, i prom-” You cut him off

“And you pulled a knife on him…” You say softly.

“W-what? H-how… What are you saying right now, ___. You sound stupid” There was a pregnant pause until you couldn’t hold back a hiccup. Your tears running down your face.

“I saw you. In the parking lot. After you dropped me off, I was gonna run after you when I saw that I left my bottle behind and there you were…” You looked up at him with glossy eyes

“There was my fucking boyfriend with a knife on my classma–” You jokingly said, with enthusiasm, as you turned around waving your arms towards your boyfriend as if you were talking to an audience. You nervously chuckled at the situation. You were in disbelief that you couldn’t even finish your sentence. You choked back the sob.  

That night was when you realized your boyfriend was fucking crazy. He was out of his mind. It was just like what those movies would talk about when the lead character has a girlfriend and she’s literally crazy; doing anything to get his attention. Except it was the opposite, it was him and definitely not you. What scares you the most is that, it happened, not twice, but more than 5 times. It’s not like how the movie depicts it to be anymore. It’s reality and much more scarier than that. He doesn’t know but you know he’s the one who stares at you from across the room of where you sat. You know, that he’s the reason why some people don’t talk to you the way they used to. It was all because of him your life started to feel like a living hell.

You shook the memories away. You checked your phone. 9:39 PM.

“That’s the past” You muttered to yourself.

“That’s way in the past, ___. You’re here now, Almost 5 years. You’re just hallucinating this again” You sighed. You reached to the nightstand and drank some water. You opened the voice recording app on your phone and clicked on the file that Jungkook made.

He knows about your story. He knows about everything. He knows why you moved and why you decided to change your life; and you loved how supportive he was of it. You can’t stress enough how thankful you are to be with someone like Jungkook.

File: a_lullaby_for_my_someone.mp3

“Hi, _____” His clear voice filling the quiet room “,I know you aren’t sleeping right now–and that explains why you turned to this recording, Ha. Anyways, That’s why I made this very special lullaby for you. Here’s my rendition to our song…”

And that’s when he started strumming the guitar.

Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby

You placed your phone on his side of the bed and hugged a pillow. Finally adjusting your sleeping position, you closed your eyes and your previous thoughts were pushed aside as you focus on your boyfriend’s singing

Squeeze me oh so tight

Show me that you love me too

Your breathing becoming slower and free from panic

Put your lips next to mine, dear

Won’t you kiss me once, baby

Just a kiss goodnight, maybe

You and I will fall in love

[midnightbluefox]

I actually cried when @gopherbroke gifted me this amazing Reylo Halloween art this morning. 

At the beginning of the month, we talked about what costumes Rey and Kylo would wear for Halloween in my fic, Broken Things, but I never expected to be gifted something so amazing. She is beyond talented and has such a kind heart, I MEAN, LOOK AT THIS. 

It’s honestly just beyond beautiful and I can’t thank her enough <3

I also wrote a Broken Things one-shot featuring The Princess Bride costumes and all the fluff, which I’ll post below.

If you haven’t read Broken Things and want to, you can right here!

----------

“I, uh, I don’t know how I feel about this,” Kylo said, and Rey turned around just in time to see him pulling at the black pants molded around his thighs.

Admittedly, they were a little tight. But damn, she wasn’t complaining. Not when it meant she got to admire every inch of his thick, powerful legs encased in black leather.

He turned around to look in the mirror again and her mouth went dry at the sight of his ass in those form-fitting pants. Nope, she wasn’t complaining one bit. Not one single bit.

“I think you look great,” she told him honestly. “And it’s too late to turn back, you’ve already committed.”

Kylo grimaced. “How was I supposed to say no when you got so excited? You played me.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she pulled her red dress out of its bag and smoothed out the wrinkles. When Poe had told them that he wanted to plan a Halloween party, with costumes mandatory, Rey instantly knew what she wanted to do. The Princess Bride.

There was no denying it; the thought of Kylo in those black pants, billowing shirt, and pirate boots… it did embarrassing things to her. And how could she not love the idea of dressing up like Buttercup? That red dress still gave her flutters in her chest every time she watched the movie.

She’d never thought that he would agree but here they were, and he was filling out that costume in all the ways that she had hoped. Better than she had hoped, if she was being honest.

He lifted his arms in front of the mirror, his black sleeves puffing with air from the movement. It was a little comical looking but all she could focus on was the way that shirt stretched across his broad chest, the front ties just begging to be undone.

Fuck, it was going to be a long night.

She draped her dress over her bed, going over and wrapping her arms around Kylo to press a kiss on his shoulder. “Listen, it’s Halloween. Everyone gives each other a hard time about their dorky costumes, that’s just part of the fun. But I think you look amazing.”

His dark eyes met her own in the mirror, an uncertain look settling on his face. “You really do?”

Rey nodded, letting her hands slide down a little, fingers dipping under his shirt to stroke at the bare skin of his stomach. “I’d be happy to show you just how good I think you look, after the party.”

His stomach muscles tensed under her hands and she could see a small smile curling at the corners of his lips in the mirror.

A deep sound rumbled through him. “Are you sure we can’t just cancel?”

Laughing, she pulled away and spun him around, tucking his shirt in quickly, then handed him his mask. “Not on your life. Poe would just break down the door and yank us out of bed.”

“I mean, I didn’t say anything about using the bed,” he said with a suggestive gleam in his eye.

She rolled hers with a grin, pushing him towards the door. “Go make sure everything is ready, I need to get dressed.”

Kylo dipped into a wide bow, backing out of the room. “As you wish.”

Her cheeks were hot as she closed the door, hating how easily he affected her.

——

Fifteen minutes later, she was just coming out of her room when someone knocked on the door. She heard Kylo heading to answer it so she took a minute to straighten her long dress and gave her apartment one last quick look over.

She had been worried that suggesting the party be here would end up being a mistake, but Poe and Finn had stopped by earlier and decorated the whole place. It felt like every inch was covered in cobwebs, bats, or black lace tablecloths, the whole place lit up with festive purple and orange lights. To be honest, she had just wanted the party to be here so if Kylo got overwhelmed, he could go hide in the bedroom and calm down without feeling weird. But it had actually turned out better than she had hoped.

He still hadn’t come back from answering the door so Rey made her way over to make sure everything was okay. The sight that greeted her was nothing she could have ever imagined.

Poe, obviously dressed as Ian Malcolm, complete with thick-framed glasses, an open black button up, and a splint on his leg, was helping Kylo pull a very unamused looking Finn through her front door. Finn, who was wearing one of those inflatable t-rex costumes.

She lost her shit.

“Can you stop laughing at me and help?” Finn snapped, embarrassment obvious in his voice.

She tried her hardest to stop, she really did. But then she looked at him again.

“This is not helping,” he ground out. He tried to shoulder-shuffle through the door, his little dinosaur arms flopping around.

Kylo stepped back, covering his face with a hand, shoulders shaking. He was trying so hard.

“Okay, wait,” Rey managed to gasp out, trying to catch her breath. “How did you even manage to get him up here in the first place?”

Poe grinned hugely, like he’d accomplished some great feat. “We took him through the double exit doors around back. And I just walked behind him and held him up on the stairs. There were a few close calls but we made it.”

She just stared at him as Kylo shook his head slowly, lips pressed together tightly as he tried not to laugh.

“Can we talk about this after you get me through the door?” Finn nearly growled, much to Poe’s delight.

In the end, they just had to deflate his suit. Luckily, Poe brought the fan in case he wilted throughout the night. He was free to move around the kitchen and living room, though no one mentioned what the plan would be if he needed to go to the bathroom. She supposed they’d tackle that one when they got to it.

On the plus side, they’d all been so busy laughing at Finn’s costume that no one commented on Kylo’s, though Rey did catch Poe checking out his ass with an approving look on his face.

A few minutes later, someone else knocked on the door and Rey let in Rose and her sister Paige, both dressed as Hogwarts students. Though they weren’t super close, especially with Rey not working at the cafe anymore, she’d always liked Rose’s sweet and supportive nature.

A couple more friends of Poe’s shuffled in and Rey’s little apartment was starting to feel a bit crowded. She wiggled through people to find Kylo serving drinks out of a bowl shaped like a witch’s cauldron and oozing mist from the dry ice.

“Hey,” she muttered, pressing against his side. “You doing okay?”

He nodded, though the movement was a bit jerky and she could see a muscle tick in his jaw. This many people in her small apartment, necessary socializing with strangers… it was wearing on him.

“Don’t forget, just say the word and I’ll create a distraction so you can slip away.”

His smile was strained but genuine. “I’m okay for now.”

“I’m not,” an annoyed voice said from the other side of the counter. Hux stood there, empty cup in hand, trademark scowl across his face. “I’m exhausted thanks to my client from hell and everyone keeps giving me dirty looks for not wearing a dumb costume.”

Kylo looked thoughtful, raising his eyebrows. “Client from hell… Hux, that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me. Maybe coming to a party and loosening up a little is good for you.”

Hux actually sneered at him. “You’re one to talk about loosening up, Ren. How long until you nervous sweat straight through that ridiculous shirt of yours? I only came because you said free drinks.”

“Actually,” Rey whispered loudly, “he’s only in a good mood because Rose wore that short plaid skirt.”

She was totally reaching, making a guess based off of the lingering, carefully expressionless look he’d given Rose across the kitchen earlier, but his ears turned bright red.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said stiffly, turning around and walking away with his empty cup.

They watched him go in a stunned silence.

“Well, that was weird,” Kylo finally said. “Should we warn Rose?”

Rey considered for a second. “I mean, I feel like I should, as her friend. But also, I want to see where this goes. And it’s not like Rose couldn’t take care of herself if he approached her. That girl would destroy him, and I’m just saying, I wouldn’t mind seeing it.”

Chuckling, he leaned against the counter, looking visibly less tense and together, they watched Finn try to back into an empty corner without knocking anything over.

“This is the first Halloween party that I’ve ever been to,” Kylo told her. “Or uh, thrown, I guess.”

Rey grinned, remembering cheesy party after cheesy party over the years. It was pretty much an unspoken requirement that if you were throwing a Halloween party, it couldn’t be too high budget or cool.

“You haven’t missed much,” she told him. “They’re all pretty similar to this; silly costumes, cheap drinks, and cheaper decorations.”

“I kind of weirdly like it,” he admitted. He always sounded so surprised when he tried something new and enjoyed it.

She felt bad for a second, thinking about how she’d almost declined to have the party or go at all. Leia was throwing one for her foundation and all of the kids they’d been helping were invited. She didn’t want to miss it, or the chance to connect with some of the children who she’d been counseling, but now she was happy she did. Making these sorts of memories with Kylo would always be a priority to her.

“Then we’ll do another one next year,” she said, giving him a smile. “Though, we might have to use your apartment instead… mine will probably still be going through repairs after Finn gets done destroying everything tonight.” She laughed, having seen him knock several things over already.

He tensed up next to her. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that… though now might not be the best time.”

Rey could feel her eyebrows coming together in confusion. What exactly did he want to talk to her about? The Halloween party next year?

Taking his hand, she led him out of the kitchen and through the crowded living room, managing to make it to the bedroom in one piece. She distinctly heard a suggestive whistle that she knew was Poe, and gave him the finger and a saucy smile as she closed the door behind them.

BB immediately darted out from underneath her bed, Kylo’s mask firmly between his teeth. She’d been looking for it all day.

“You brat,” she muttered, going over to sit next to Kylo on the bed. He looked pale, paler than before, and his fingers were tapping out a frantic beat against his leg.

She caught this hand in her own, squeezing gently. “Hey, what’s going on? You’re obviously nervous.”

His dark eyes met hers, always so vulnerable and open. If anyone ever wanted to know what he was feeling, all they needed to do was study his eyes.

“You’d think after everything we’ve been through, I wouldn’t get nervous with you anymore,” he said, a self-deprecating smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “I wasn’t planning on asking you tonight but I just… I couldn’t get it off of my mind and we’re having a good time and it just seemed-”

“Ask me?” Rey cut him off, mouth going strangely dry. She was suddenly hyper-aware of the heat of his hand in hers.

He took a deep breath. “I wanted to ask you to move in with me. I mean, if you’d like to move in with me. I know we live literally right next to each other but if we moved in together, we wouldn’t have to-”

She laughed softly, cutting him off again. “Kylo, you don’t have to convince me. I’ve been hoping you’d ask for a while now. It makes sense and I want to live with you.”

And there it was; the look of surprise lighting up his face and turning his dark eyes into a warm brown.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Okay, let’s move in together.”

“Well, we can’t right this second,” she teased, shifting closer, heart pounding with excitement and love. “There’s kind of a party going on, if you didn’t notice.”

“Really? I didn’t,” he deadpanned, making her chuckle.

Leaning up, Rey kissed him softly, his lips warm and welcoming against her own. She’s known for a while now that home was wherever Kylo was, where they could be together.

He wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer, deepening the kiss eagerly. He tasted like relief and happiness, of the promise of their life together.

A loud bang on the door sent them jerking apart, a startled gasp escaping Rey.

“Are you guys getting it on in there?” Poe called, banging on the door again, sounding like he’d already had a few drinks. “I know life finds a way and all that, but there’s a party out here and we’re all going to listen to you guys if you are.”

A loud chorus of “nopes” and “no ways” followed his statement and one disgusted sounding scoff that had to have come from Hux.

Rey covered her face, wondering if this hadn’t been a mistake after all.

“You know what,” she told Kylo, who looked like he didn’t know whether he should laugh or hide under the bed. “I think my window opens to the fire escape. Want to sneak up to the roof and hide out all night?”

His laugh shook the bed. “That sounds perfect.”

[austinonymous]

Pictures on the Field

Title: Pictures on the Field

Fandom: My Hero Academia / Boku no Hero Academia

Ship: Katsuki x Eijirou

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Kirihsima Eijirou

Prompt: 

For Kiribaku week 2019 ( @krbkweek2k19  ‘s prompts) Day 1 [April 14th]

Dance / Suits / Music

Summary:

Art Student Bakugou Katsuki likes taking pictures of one of the college’s dance groups for his reference pictures. Especially one particular redhead. Where is he today though?

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18442325

           Katsuki huffed as he looked out over the field that stretched out in front of him, flicking the studs in his ears out of boredom. His back was sore and stiff from leaning up against a tree for who the fuck knows how long, but in some ways, it didn’t really matter to him. When he’d been learning to draw anatomy  and had to look at that weird-ass model they brought in to sit around naked in front of him- the blond fuck’s name was Aoyama or something -he’d gotten used to sitting there trying to get every curve and detail of the human body right even as his own joints screamed at him.

           He hadn’t known what he was in for when he’d entered the art program at the college. He’d sat around on his ass for years, unsure as to what he wanted to do with his life, but this… just seemed right. At first, it’d been just a silly attempt to prove he was better at Deku in everything. So Katsuki had gone and signed up for the same art program the green-haired idiot was in. He’d learned to love it, even if his first attempts were… horrendous. However, drawing took a lot out of him. He wasn’t like Deku who could look inside his own head and bring fantasy worlds to life. Katsuki wasn’t the type of guy who could just go and fucking start turning their old teacher’s story into a comic book. The blond was just shit at that sort of fantasy stuff.

           But realistic drawings? Now that was different.

           The blond dug into his bag and pulled out his camera as, finally, one of the dance groups that worked here came out. The troupe of dancers were all laughing and chatting excitedly, as per usual. Even the dead-inside-stares of their professor couldn’t tone down there excitement. Katsuki twisted the lens he wanted to use onto the camera as he stretched for a second, cracking his spine a bit before laying on his stomach. The grass was crushed underneath his skinny yet toned frame as he set the small stand on the ground so he could steady his shots. They would practice on the court, hair tied back in ponytails and headbands to keep their bangs out of their faces.

           Katsuki knew other groups existed he could take pictures of, but he’d grown attached to this group. They were bright and energetic, every movement of their choreography filled with some passionate emotion. The flowing fabrics, the way it twisted about their bodies, muscles straining to hold positions in time to the thudding beat of the music- it was mesmerizing. Plus, the blond would never say it aloud, but he’d grown to be quite enamored with at least one member of their group. He was a redhead who always spiked his hair out of his face, who’s muscles just made his stocky frame able to pull off even more demanding moves. He didn’t have the flexibility or range that the blond or girl with pink hair had, but the guy seemed to lose himself in the music every time they practiced, each movement filled with his whole soul.

           He didn’t seem to be there tonight, however, much to Katsuki sadness. The blond kept taking pictures before hearing the leaves crackle behind him as someone stepped up behind him, “Hey there! You’re the guy who watches us all the time and takes pictures, right?”

           “What’s it fucking mean to you?”

           “Ah, well… you like what you see right?” The voice asked hopefully. Katsuki rolled his eyes as he pushed his glasses up before looking back at whoever it fucking was.

           It was him. Bright red hair, small tentative smile filled with sharp white teeth, and short stocky frame. Katsuki fought down any blood that might be rushing to his cheeks at the guy he’d been drooling over for a while now suddenly approaching him, “Ah, uh- Yeah, fuck, I mean you guys are good.”

           The other guys smiled widely and Katsuki felt his heart skip a beat or two at that sight. Damn his emotions, “Why aren’t you with the rest of your fucking group?”

           The smile dimmed a bit as the guy looked down at the splint around his ankle and Katsuki winced a bit, “I landed badly during one of our performances. I powered through it, but it’s inflamed a bit and hurts to dance like usual. I won’t be able to be with everyone at the next performance this week,” He sighed, as he sat down next to where Katsuki was sprawled out.

           “That sucks.” And Katsuki wasn’t lying either, that genuinely sounded like it sucked to miss out on something the guy obviously loved to do.

           “It is what it is. I haven’t gotten to watch us from the audience in a long time so maybe it’ll be fun?” He said with a sigh before he seemed to get an idea and he visibly brightened, “Hey! Maybe you could tag along? I haven’t seen you at one of the shows before, and it would be really cool if you wanna tag along! I’m sure I can get you in as a plus one or something!” The guy said excitedly.

           Katsuki flushed a bit at that, “What? As a plus one? Fuck, what is this, a date?” He said sarcastically but paused when the redhead suddenly smirked a bit as he looked Katsuki over.

           “I wouldn’t mind that if you want,” He offered with a wide smile, “I’ve been watching you over here probably as much as you’ve been watching us,” He admitted with a sheepish laugh.

           That stunned Katsuki into silence for a moment as the guy’s smile became strained, “Unless you don’t want-“

           “I’ll take you up on the offer. But I think I need a name for my fucking date, don’t you? Damn idiot,” He scoffed as the guy grinned.

           “Ah, right! Kirishima Eijirou!”

           “..Bakugou Katsuki. Nice to meet you.”