#desperately hoping my art style stays consistent now

[apologydanceenthusiast]

I will never understand why it is so hard to draw micheal sheen—

Regardless

I am kind of proud of this one

[avatar-anna]

Makeup Artist

summary: You’re hired as Harry’s makeup artist for Love on Tour

words: 7.1k

tw: none

Never in a million years did you think that you would be on tour with Harry Styles.

Sure, you were a celebrity makeup artist, but your wheelhouse consisted of red carpets, runways, and editorial shoots. You were familiar with Harry’s work, had even gone to one of his shows for his first album, so you knew that he and his band didn’t really do anything crazy in terms of stage makeup.

For those reasons, you said no when you first got the call. Someone knew someone that knew you, and you were suddenly in touch with the tour manager for Harry Styles. They gave you a brief description of what you would be doing on tour—mostly the band’s makeup, but Harry’s as well for two shows in New York, something about a Halloween special. Going on the road sounded fun, but the job itself didn’t feel all that fulfilling. You absolutely loved makeup, it’s why you became a makeup artist in the first place. You loved getting people dolled up in full glam, playing with colors and themes and experimenting on clients when they gave you the chance. You were more than capable of doing more natural looks, your job often called for it. But makeup was a form of expression for you, and you didn’t think that this job opportunity was going to challenge you in any way, so you politely declined.

You thought that was the end of that, and went about the rest of your day. It wasn’t until a week later that you received another phone call from the same unknown number that you finally took the job. 

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist you take this job,” the tour manager said. “H is really impressed with your work, and he doesn’t want anyone else.”

H? You thought. Was it rude of you to assume that Harry Styles didn’t have any involvement in the choosing of his makeup artist? You knew that he’d been dipping into different parts of the beauty industry lately, but you still thought that this was something that his team would take care of.

“I don’t know, this just isn’t something I would normally do,” you said, feeling bad for rejecting the tour manager for a second time. You hoped he wouldn’t be in any trouble with their boss.

“What’s your normal rate?” they asked.

“Excuse me?” It wasn’t an uncommon question, you just weren’t expecting that level of desperation from the tour manager.

“How much do you typically charge? We’ll double it. Or come up with a price that covers the whole tour. You would be a very valued member of our team.”

Double? The tour manager didn’t even know how much you charged clients, yet they were already promising to double it. Perhaps it was a tad selfish of you, but now that more money was on the table, you were considering it. You loved makeup as an art form, but you still had bills to pay. “Uh…Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Great,” the manager said, and you could almost see the weight being lifted off their shoulders. “How fast can you get Covid tested and on a plane to Las Vegas?”

They wanted you to start now? “Well, most of my kit is fully stocked, but I still need to get some things together. And I have to pack, obviously. I’d say…two, maybe three days?”

“We need you here by tomorrow night,” the manager said, making your eyes widen. How did this become so last minute? “Okay…Okay, I’ve got it. I will have someone take care of getting whatever you need for your kit, you just pack and do whatever you can to get here as soon as possible. We’re going all over the country, so be prepared for all types of weather. And make sure…”

You listened carefully as the tour manager rattled off a bunch of details about the tour—more of what was expected from you, when you needed to be there, how to get to the venue, where to stay. You realized that this was going to be a long phone call, so you muted yourself and began packing, pulling out your large suitcase and carefully putting what you thought you would need in it while listening to the tour manager go over things like Covid restrictions and signing an NDA and other technical stuff.

When they were done, they asked you what you needed, you quickly unmuted yourself and rattled off brand names and brush types and the exact amount of sponges you would need. Normally, you would use the same set of brushes on a client and wash them thoroughly, but since you would be doing the same people’s makeup for a few months, you thought it would be more efficient if each person had their own tools and products so nothing would get cross contaminated or thrown out constantly. “I’ll pay for everything once I get there,” you said, but the tour manager brushed you off and said not to worry about it.

The phone call ended, and in the quiet of your bedroom, you were able to really think about everything that just happened. “Holy shit,” you breathed, sitting down on your bed in a daze.

Touring was…interesting to say the least. Everyone you spoke to was incredibly kind and respectful, and never for one moment did you feel like an outsider or like you didn’t belong. After the first few shows, you knew almost everyone by name, and even had people to sit with for meals before the show. 

You needed to call your friend. You were going on tour with Harry Styles.

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And as you predicted, the work itself was fairly easy. You just had to do the girl band members’ makeup before each show. Nothing too elaborate, just enough powder and blending to make sure they weren’t too oily onstage. You felt like you were scamming everyone, seeing as you were being paid double for doing less than what you normally did, but you hadn’t had any complaints yet, so you kept your head down, did your job, then went back to the bus just before the show started.

For the first couple shows, you stayed and watched the whole concert, excited to be on the road for a famous singer. But you quickly realized that tour bus life wasn’t for you and didn’t get much sleep when it was moving and with so many other people making a lot of noise, so you got your rest for a couple of hours while everyone else was still at the venue.

A month into the tour, though, and you were itching to do more than just foundation, powder, and a little blush. You wanted to do more, and your head was constantly filled with ideas on how you could spice up the band’s makeup. It wouldn’t be for anyone but yourself, but you could do the girls’ makeup in your sleep by now, and you needed to switch things up a little, otherwise this would be a very long tour.

“Can I try something different tonight?” you asked one night. You were sitting with Ny’oh, one of the guitarists. She had the most eccentric style out of the three girls when she wasn’t onstage, so you figured you’d start with her in the hopes that she would be more receptive to something different.

“Course, babe. What did you have in mind?”

The two of you quickly finished up dinner and went to the band dressing room. You got Ny’oh settled in her makeup chair and got her normal routine out of the way, smiling to yourself as you started to prep the skin just beneath her eyes. 

“I can tell you’ve been wanting to do this for some time,” she joked, her eyes looking upward as you patted eyeshadow into her skin.

“I saw this trend when I was while I was scrolling on my phone on the bus the other day. I tried it out for myself and really liked it, so I thought I would see what you guys thought.”

You were always looking to others for inspiration. The beauty of the internet was that you could share tips and learn new techniques to try out in the future. This one that had eyeshadow focused on the bottom half of your eye rather than the eyelid was extremely intriguing to you. One of the nights where you were on your own on the tour bus, you got your personal makeup kit out and began practicing. It looked amazing, and you thought it would be so cool if you matched the girls’ makeup to the suit color Harry was wearing that night. And after listening to his music live a few times, you realized that Harry’s music was very vibrant and lively. You thought you could match the essence of his music through the makeup you did for the girls.

“You should’ve said something sooner,” Ny’oh said, grinning when you handed her the mirror to see the finished product. Tonight, Harry would be wearing a pink number, so you dabbed a soft pink on Ny’oh, added some pink highlight to her cheeks, finished it off with a little mascara, and she was done. She looked soft, ethereal, exactly what you were trying to go for when you started.

“So you like it then? It’s not too much?”

From then on, you were doing something different each night to match whatever Harry was wearing. All three girls were receptive to the idea, and even had you take pictures of the finished look to post online. It was fun to hang out with them before the show, and soon enough you were hanging out with them all the time, exploring new cities together and shopping until it was eventually time to head to the venue.

For the first time ever, you felt like a part of a group. As a freelance makeup artist, you mostly went from one job to the next. You were rehired by the same people often, but before this job, you’d become a little lonely. You lived by yourself, you didn’t have a pet, and you didn’t speak to your family much anymore. It was just you and your one friend, though she had a pretty busy schedule of her own. You thought you were okay with that, but the longer you were on tour, you realized that you’d just conditioned yourself to be fine, and now you were craving companionship more than ever. 

Still, you were so used to your alone time that sometimes you needed it. So while everyone was out to lunch in Atlanta, you were on the tour bus, watching TV on your phone. That is, until there was a knock on the bus door.

Confused, you went over to open it and see who it was. You were on one of the crew buses, and anyone on it would’ve just come in rather than knock. But when you opened the door, your eyes widened. This was no crew member.

“Hi.” You didn’t know what else to say. You technically worked for him and had been traveling the country together for almost two months now, but you’d never actually spoken to Harry.

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he said, pink flooding his cheeks when he realized you probably already knew that.

Sparing him any more embarrassment, you stuck your hand out for him to shake. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met. I’m Y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He took your hand and shook it, his hand warm and soft, but a little callused too.

You expected Harry to say more, but he didn’t, just continued to stand awkwardly outside your tour bus. You realized then that he’d run out of things to say, and you wondered if he was always this shy. “Did you need something? Everyone went out for lunch and to explore, so they won’t be back until later.”

“No, no, I was looking for you actually,” he said. “Can I come in?”

“Of course! Sorry, where are my manners? I should’ve let you in sooner.”

“It’s no problem.”

You stepped aside to let him in and tried not to gawk. When people met celebrities, they always said things like, “they were taller in person” or something along those lines. You’d never really had a moment like that until now. He didn’t tower over you by any means, but you did have to tilt your head up the tiniest bit to meet his eyes.

The layout of his tour bus must’ve been similar to yours because Harry knew to go to the back of the bus so you could both sit on the couch together. He sat down, crossed his leg, uncrossed it, then placed the other leg on top of his knee. You thought he was just shy, but now you were starting to think he was nervous. I’m not that intimidating, am I?, you thought, wondering how to not come off that way if you were intimidating him.

“I’m sorry for not coming to see you sooner. I usually try to meet everyone at the start of tour, but I feel like anytime I look for you, you’re never around.”

Now it was your turn to blush. “Sorry about that. I usually come back here when I’m finished getting everyone ready for the show.”

“I’m that bad, am I?” he asked, cringing a little.

You blanched, not realizing he was only kidding until it was too late. “Of course not! I’m so sorry if I gave you that impression. I just don’t sleep well when everyone else is in here, so I try to sleep when the bus is empty. I can stay tonight, though. I promise it’s not what you—”

“Y/n,” Harry said gently. “It’s fine. I was only teasing you.”

“Oh.” Well now you were really embarrassed, but you tried to recover. “So, um, was there something I could help you with, or were you just stopping by to say hello?”

Harry took the change of subject in stride. “Well, yes, I wanted to meet you properly, but I also wanted to ask,” he said, pausing like he didn’t want to continue. You knew that look, though. You’d seen it on a lot of guy clients. 

“Do you want me to do your makeup?”

“Erm, yes. I don’t know why, but touring just gives me these dark circles,” he said, touching the soft skin beneath his eye. “I don’t know why that was so hard for me to admit. I’ve worn makeup before.”

You shrugged. “It’s not uncommon. A lot of guys are weird about it. But you’ve come to the right place.”

Getting up from the couch, you ran over to where you kept your kit. You hadn’t had to use the stuff you had set aside for Harry yet, but you still kept it close by each night just in case. Going back over to him, you told him to close his eyes and got to work.

It was completely silent, but it wasn’t awkward. Harry seemed to understand that you needed the quiet to focus. With a brush, you put the tiniest amount of color corrector where he needed it and applied a little concealer over it. His dark circles weren’t as bad as he made them out to be and only needed a little touching up. When you told him he could open his eyes, he did so, a lot quicker than you’d anticipated. Now you were practically nose to nose and looking at each other right in the eye. 

You sat back immediately, putting away your brushes and the makeup you used on him. Pulling out a mirror, you handed it to him so he could see your handiwork. “It’s like they never existed,” you joked.

Harry inspected himself in the mirror, looking from side to side as if a different angle would magically reveal what you’d covered up. Seemingly satisfied, he set the mirror down. “Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s what I’m here for,” you said, taking the mirror from him and putting it back in your kit.

It occurred to you then that now that he was all taken care of, he would probably want to leave. Only he didn’t stand up. Looking him over, you thought he probably didn’t know how to politely excuse himself. It also occurred to you that he didn’t go out with everyone else to explore Atlanta. Because he couldn’t or because he didn’t want to? You wondered.

Taking a chance, you said, “I, um, I was watching TV in my bunk, but I could play it out here, if you wanted to stay for a while?”

You felt like an idiot the second the words were out of your mouth, but before you could take them back, Harry smiled at you and made himself comfortable on the couch. “I think I’d like that.”

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Halloween was going to be your favorite night, there was no doubt in your mind about it. 

The whole band was dressing up for two Halloween shows, and instead of just doing makeup for Ny’oh, Sarah, and Elin, you got to do the boys’ too. Because of that, you had to start earlier than you normally would, but you didn’t mind. Any excuse to break out your more colorful palettes and blushes was more than worth it to you. And everyone hung around while you worked, too, making it a party of sorts. Stella, the hair stylist, and a nail artist was in the band’s dressing room working with you while everyone was listening to music and talking over each other and having a good time. It was the first time you’d hung out with the whole band before, and you had to admit that they were all very sweet. Not that you ever doubted that, you figured that anyone who worked for Harry was probably nice, and you were proved right.

Speaking of Harry, he had yet to come by to get his makeup done, even though you’d been informed that he would be getting his makeup done tonight and tomorrow. You were curious as to what he was currently up to, but you tried not to think about it so you could focus on finishing Pauli’s makeup. After that afternoon where he watched TV on your tour bus, you saw a little bit more of Harry. He made a point of coming to see you, whether that was on your tour bus, a dressing room, craft services, or somewhere else. And he sat down in the makeup chair before shows too. Nothing major, just covering up his dark circles like you’d done on the tour bus and a little something to even out his skin. It gave him a nice glow too, something you pointed out to him the first time you finished his look. Each interaction was always brief, but you thought it was sweet that he went out of his way to see you when he probably had such a busy schedule.

As you were wrapping Mitch’s makeup—he was the only one that didn’t seem totally thrilled about having his makeup done, so you kept it very minimal, putting a little black on his nose to match the lion costume he was supposed to wear—Harry walked in. Too focused on fixing up Mitch’s brows after you convinced him you wouldn’t do much more than that, you didn’t notice him come in, but he noticed you. He wanted to immediately go over to where you were working, at the very least to see how you managed to get Mitch into a makeup chair, but he was sidetracked by Sarah and Elin.

“See? Not so bad,” you said to Mitch, handing him a mirror. You worried he wouldn’t like it, but he seemed satisfied with your minimal work. Thanking you, he walked back over to where everyone else was while you cleaned up your station. 

“Who’s next?” you called, turning around to see who was free and who wasn’t. It was then that you saw Harry, and your smile was instant when you saw his hand partially raised. “Oh. Hey, Harry. Come have a seat.”

He sat down in the chair, and you got his designated brushes out, immediately getting started on prepping his skin. “How are you?” he asked, his eyes closed while you brushed moisturizer on his skin.

“Good. How are you?”

You spoke to Harry quietly while you did his makeup, starting with a light base and covering his dark circles like you always did. His voice was soft as he spoke, almost like he didn’t want to disturb your work. He wouldn’t have either way, but like most things he did, you found his awareness of your job very sweet. 

“So, I have your base done, is there anything specific that you wanted, or?”

You knew that the theme for tonight was Wizard of Oz and that Harry was dressing up as Dorothy, but aside from that, you had no instruction. Harry opened his eyes and blinked at you. “Nothing…Nothing too intense, I guess? I don’t know, I trust you.”

He was trying to be nice, but he didn’t really give you much to go on. But Harry said he trusted you, so you went on instinct and got started. As promised, you didn’t do anything too intense—a little blush, but strong enough that it would be seen onstage, a little highlight on his cheeks and the tip of his nose, and mascara, though that part made you nervous.

“It might feel a little funny, but try not to touch your eyes, okay?” you said. You used the gentlest formula you had, but you had a feeling it still might bother him, seeing as he’d never worn it previously. You wouldn’t have done it, but you really thought it completed the look, so you just put two coats on and called it a day. “I’ll help you take it all off afterwards. Just come by my bus again.”

“You’re not going to stay?” Harry asked, a small frown on his face.

“I like to catch up on sleep, you know that,” you said. He tried not to look hurt, but you could see it on his face. Before you could think about it, you said, “But I can stay tonight. I want to see how my work turned out.”

You knew you were going to be exhausted tomorrow, but seeing Harry’s face light up was worth it

“I’d like to thank my makeup artist tonight for doing such a wonderful job. She came up with and did all the makeup last night and tonight. She did a wonderful job, don’t you think?”

Harry rested his chin in his hands and grinned so that everyone could see your handiwork. The crowd cheered, and you were suddenly thankful that Harry convinced you to stay and watch his show for a second time. No one of course knew that you were the one who’d done his and the rest of the band’s makeup, but it felt nice to be recognized and praised for your work all the same.

After last night, Harry had more of an idea of what he liked and didn’t like. “Yes to the blush, no to the eye stuff,” he said when he sat down in your chair again. You agreed with him. After the mascara got in his eye while he was onstage, you decided that you would try something else. This time around, you added a slight pink to his cheeks and just above his eyebrows, his skin glowy and flawless as always. Then, as a play on his costume, you glued four pearls to his face: two above his eyebrows and two on his cheeks.

In comparison to his band’s makeup, Harry’s wasn’t as elaborate or over the top, something you had lots of fun coming up with with each person (Mitch even let you play around with some stick on stars too). But in your mind, the makeup was simple so as not to overpower Harry’s costume, which had ruffles and tulle and lace all the way up to his neck. Last night in his Dorothy costume, he’d shouted, “I look cute!”, as he pranced around the stage, but you preferred tonight’s ensemble.

After the show, you went back to the band’s dressing room and began laying out everything needed to remove the stars and pastel colors from their faces. You stifled a yawn, checking the watch on your wrist. In theory, it wasn’t very late, but you hadn’t gotten much sleep in the last few days, and it was starting to catch up with you.

Ny’oh was the first one to enter the dressing room, and also caught you yawning. “You should go back to the bus, get some rest,” she said, walking over to where you were still standing.

“Are you sure? I was going to help everyone get everything off—”

“It’s fine, babe, I know my way around makeup remover. I can help the boys. That’s who you were worried about, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Can you just remind them to wash their face and moisturize too? I left some masks out, but I doubt they’ll use them.”

Ny’oh promised that she would take care of everything, ushering you out of the dressing room with a wave of her hands. “I got it, now go. Get some sleep.”

Thanking her, you grabbed the rest of your things and left in a hurry. If you got back to the bus before everyone else, you might be able to fall and stay asleep for a few hours before the snoring and the sleep talking began.

The next two days were mostly traveling with a couple breaks thrown in, so you kept to yourself mostly, hanging out with the rest of the people on the bus occasionally and sleeping when you could. You found traveling days to be your least favorite, as there was very little opportunity to truly be alone, but you managed. When you finally arrived at your next destination, everyone was more than eager to get off the bus and stretch their legs. You did too, but your exhaustion from lack of sleep outweighed your desire to leave the bus, so once everyone was gone, you cuddled up into your bunk, ready to shut out the rest of the world for as long as possible.

It didn’t last long, not nearly as long as you’d hoped, because you were woken up by knocks on the bus door. For a moment, you stayed in your bunk, wondering if it was entirely too rude to not answer whoever was at the door and just hope they eventually went away, but you finally got up.

A sense of deja vu flooded you as you saw Harry on the other side again. His hair was held back with a small black clip, a smile on his face as he looked up at you. The smile dimmed slightly though when he looked you over. “You were sleeping, weren’t you?”

You were, but you didn’t want him to feel bad. “It’s okay.”

“I’m really sorry. I can come back later if—”

“What’s in your hand?”

Harry looked down to where you were looking. Scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, he said, “I asked around and Stella said you didn’t get off the bus with everyone else, and I figured you hadn’t eaten, so…”

“So…you brought me lunch?”

“Yeah, I—I didn’t want you to not eat all day, so I thought I would bring you something, and I wanted to thank you properly.”

“Thank me properly? For what?”

“For all your help in New York,” he said, swaying from foot to foot. 

You tilted your head at him curiously. “It’s my job, Harry. There’s no need to thank me.

“H,” he said suddenly. “Everyone, um, everyone calls me H.”

“Oh. H,” you said, trying it out for yourself, missing the smile that grew on Harry’s face when you did so. “Well, like I said, you don’t have to thank me. I was just doing my job.”

“I mean, just because it’s your job doesn’t mean I can’t thank you, but I guess I also wanted to thank you for even coming on tour. I know you declined the first time and that this isn’t the kind of job you would normally take on, so, thank you.”

You were surprised by his confession, surprised that he seemed to know more about you than you did about him. You vaguely recalled his tour manager saying that Harry insisted that you were the makeup artist that was hired for tour, but you hadn’t thought about it much since.

“Of course. I’ve had a lot of fun,” you said. Then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you asked, “So, why did you want to hire me? I was surprised to get a second call from your tour manager. You could’ve easily gone with someone else.”

Harry’s cheeks flushed a deep scarlet, looking more bashful than you’d ever seen him. “I don’t think you remember, but we’ve met before.”

“We have?” You were pretty sure you would’ve remembered meeting a guy as remarkable as him, famous or not.

“Kind of. Indirectly. I—I saw you?” he said, though it sounded more like a question. “Oh Christ, I sound like I’ve stalked you now, that’s not it at all. You, um, you were Lizzo’s makeup artist at a music festival kind of thing. You said hello and asked if I needed anything, but I could barely say yes or no before you were called away to do something else.”

After Harry’s confession, you racked your brain, trying to remember the instance in question. You remembered the event, one of those big radio shows, and you remembered doing Lizzo’s makeup. That night was such a blur, though. Someone else’s makeup artist was sick with the flu and didn’t show up, so you offered to help out. If you had asked Harry if he needed anything, it was probably because you’d been asking multiple people that same question all night. 

“I remember that night,” you said, feeling guilty that you couldn’t recall your very brief encounter.

“I remembered you,” he said with more confidence than you’d ever heard him speak. Hearing him say that made your face flush, but that only made him smile more. “I asked Lizzo who you were, which definitely raised some eyebrows, but she told me your name, and after asking around a little more, I knew I at least wanted to hire you to go on tour, but then, you know…”

“Covid,” you said, nodding.

“Covid,” he agreed. “Almost two years later and here we are. I hope that doesn’t freak you out. I didn’t hire you with any ulterior motives or anything. I really do admire your work and thought you would be a valuable member of our team, and I think I was right.”

It was certainly a lot to take in, but Harry was being so earnest, you almost didn’t have a choice but to believe him. You tried not to let him saying, “I remembered you,” get to your head, but it was slowly becoming the only thing you could think about.

“No ulterior motives, huh?” you asked, leaning against the side of the bus door.

Harry shook his head. “Nope.”

“So you bring all your crew members lunch?”

“Um,” he looked down at the takeout in his hands.

It quickly dawned on you that flirting with your boss probably wasn’t the best idea. There was still a lot of the tour left, and this…whatever was happening right now was probably more trouble than it was worth. Were you attracted to Harry? Sure, but you found lots of people attractive, that didn’t mean you acted on that attraction. So before he could come up with an answer that would probably be trouble for the both of you, you said, “I’m kidding. Friends?”

Harry looked at you for a few moments, and you couldn’t tell what it meant. Finally, though, he agreed and said, “Friends.”

You let him in the tour bus and led him to the back so you could sit down and watch your show. It only occurred to you now that you hadn’t watched another episode since you watched it with Harry.

As you walked to the couches, you couldn’t be sure, but you swore Harry muttered, “We’ll see about that.”

Now what the hell did he mean by that?

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It was the last night of the tour, a night you were both dreading and looking forward to for weeks. You’d had a lot of fun, and made friends that you were confident enough to say would last. There were memories you would carry with you forever, and you could only describe being on tour with Harry and his band the experience of a lifetime. Still, you were partly relieved because while touring was fun, it was very long, and living out of a tour bus wasn’t your favorite. Sleeping came easier after investing in ear plugs and a white noise app on your phone, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the comfort of your own bed.

And then there was Harry.

The two of you had grown quite close over the last couple months, so close that Ny’oh would wiggle her eyebrows at you whenever he came looking for you in the band’s dressing room. That alone was embarrassing, but it was when you tried to convince her that nothing was happening and Harry merely draped an arm around your shoulder and kissed the top of your head that had you flushing from head to toe.

Since that afternoon in your tour bus, Harry shamelessly flirted with you. Anytime he convinced you to stay for the concert instead of going back to the tour bus, he’d wink at you on stage and look you in the eye when he sang certain lines, and during your stop in Seattle, he brought you a bouquet of flowers from Pike’s Place. 

Harry’s affection was overwhelming to say the least. You’d never had anyone work as hard as he did to get you to go out with them, but like clockwork every night before he had to go onstage, he would ask, “You free tonight?”, to which you would reply with a shake of your head. At first, he would only ask you out when no one was around, but as the tour progressed, he said it in front of anyone who was around.

He was never deterred by your rejection, in fact, it only made him double down and try harder. It got to the point where everyone knew that Harry had a thing for the makeup artist. You thought that that would make you some kind of a pariah among the rest of the crew, but it didn’t. Some would tease, but it was never in a malicious way. And Harry’s band only encouraged him.

“Why do you never say yes? You obviously like him too,” Elin asked as you did her makeup one night. 

You shrugged, blending her crease color until you came up with an answer. “He’s my boss. I’m pretty sure that’s like the number one rule about work. You don’t date your co-workers, and you definitely don’t date your boss.”

That was the main point, but you were pretty sure you, and especially Harry, liked the game of cat and mouse you’d been playing most of the tour. You knew that he knew you liked him, so he just took whatever you gave him in stride, ready to try again the next day.

“Y/n,” she said, opening her eyes to look at you skeptically. “Mitch and Sarah are literally married and have a baby. Things are a little different here than working in an office.”

Elin had a point there, one that you couldn’t ignore. If you weren’t resting on the tour bus or hanging out with Harry, you were often babysitting for Mitch and Sarah. Odds were, if someone needed to find you, all you had to do was figure out where the baby was, and you would be there too. Which only made Harry even more attracted to you, not that he would ever tell you that. 

Still, even if Mitch and Sarah made it work, that made them more of an exception than the rule.

 “What happens when it’s all over, Elin?” you asked suddenly

“What do you mean?”

“After the tour ends, I go back to LA and find my next job, and he goes…Well, I don’t know where he goes, but I think the atmosphere here heightens everything. I’m worried it won’t be the same when everything goes back to normal.”

Elin just smiled at you like she knew something you didn’t, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask her more about it, so you finished her makeup in silence.

Now the final tour date had arrived, and butterflies were running rampant in your belly. You weren’t avoiding Harry, but you also weren’t hanging out where you normally would just before the show started. You were with the baby, walking up and down a random hallway trying to get him to fall asleep. You would never admit it to Mitch or Sarah, but part of you offered to watch him tonight so that you would have a buffer between you and Harry. 

“Am I being silly, bub?” you cooed at the baby in your arms. He didn’t answer, just gurgled at you happily. “He’s a good guy, a great one even. He’s kind, he seems to genuinely care, he likes the things I like, he—”

“He’s wildly attractive, worships the ground you walk on, is great in bed.”

You jolted, clutching the baby tighter to your chest. “Jesus, H, you scared me.”

He was leaning against one side hallway, no telling how long he’d been standing there and listening to you talk about him. Almost like you couldn’t help it, you looked him up and down. The gold vest was too good, showing off just the right amount of skin and accentuating his tattoos perfectly. And Harry knew it too. He was waiting for you when you met your eyes again, grinning at you devilishly.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were hiding from me,” he said, stepping closer to you.

“Not hiding. No, I’m just trying to get him to fall asleep,” you said, gesturing to the baby you were holding. 

He took another step closer. “So, you’ll get to watch the show tonight, then?”

“Of course. It’s the last one, I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Great,” Harry said, his grin wide and bright. “Afterwards, I was thinking maybe we could just—”

You waited for him to finish, but he didn’t. You figured he was going to ask you out like he normally did, but something about him seemed different this time around. He looked more nervous, less sure of himself. “Just?” you asked, hoping a prompting would help him.

“Talk,” he said, almost blurted. “I think about doing so many things with you, but at the end of the day, I just want to sit and talk to you for hours. Whether that’s in a hotel room, or a house, or a tour bus, or your makeup chair. I want to talk until we know everything about each other. You—You’ve brushed me off every time I’ve asked you, and I was okay with it because I knew I would have another chance, but now it’s the last night of the tour, and I don’t know what I’d do if you said no again.”

“Harry—” you tried to say, but he kept going.

“No, please let me finish. I know you think that we wouldn’t work away from all this,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the venue. “But, I like you so much. I don’t think you understand how much joy just seeing you every day brings me. So no more games, no more chasing you down and hoping you’ll say yes. I think you’re amazing and beautiful and are the most genuine person I’ve ever met. Please say you’ll wait for me after the show so we can talk.”

You were rendered speechless. Obviously you knew Harry liked you, but you didn’t know how deeply. Sure he flirted and sought you out on off days to hang out with you, but you were so focused on keeping your own feelings in check, you didn’t stop and think about what actually being with him might look like. 

Looking at him now, you saw his green eyes pleading with yours. You’d never seen him so desperate before. “I, um, I’d really like that.”

Harry’s expression was one of disbelief. “Yeah?”

Nodding, you confessed, “Saying no to you almost every night is exhausting. It probably doesn’t make sense, but I was protecting myself in case—”

“I do understand, of course I do,” he said. Reaching forward, he gingerly took your chin in his hand. “But I have a break after this tour, and I just want to see where this goes.”

“Me too, and I have the feeling you’re about to kiss me, but it just doesn’t seem right while holding someone else’s baby.”

Harry’s eyes broke away from yours and looked down to where you were still holding Mich and Sarah’s little bundle of joy. He grinned, seeming to agree with you. “That’s fair, but don’t run off right after the show, alright? I want you to be the first person I see when I come backstage.”

“Deal.”

You and Harry didn’t kiss in the hallway, but you let him take your free hand in his as you made your way back to where everyone else was. Both of you were giddy with excitement, looking forward to the end of the show.

“Fucking finally!”

Looking up, you saw Pauli and Ny’oh standing by a bunch of equipment. Having seen your joined hands, Ny’oh shouted, getting the attention of everyone else milling around and prepping for the show.

“Oh my God,” you groaned, embarrassed beyond belief. You tried to slip your hand out of Harry’s, but he held onto you tighter.

The rest of the night was a blur, and by the time Harry was blowing kisses and making his way offstage, you were practically vibrating with excitement. He jogged off the way he normally did, shedding his gold vest and handing it off to someone as he went, but he only had eyes for one person.

You were waiting for him at the end of the tunnel, and having seen you, Harry picked up his speed. When he was finally in front of you, you grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him against the wall. “I think you’re amazing and beautiful and one of the most genuine people I’ve ever met too,” you said, just before pulling him down so his lips met yours.

[gumnut-logic]

One Wednesday Night

balter (v.) - to dance artlessly, without particular grace or skill but usually with enjoyment. (from these wonderful prompts)

Just a random fluffy scene that got a little out of control. I claim no sanity.

Spoilers & Warnings: Fluff, alcohol, 3924 words.

Many thanks to @scribbles97​ for the read through and for putting up with my crazy.

I hope you enjoy it :D

Everyone knew Virgil was the musical soul in the family. He played, wrote and occasionally bled music. It was a constant in their home and the few times it was missing due to illness or absence, it was painful.

The man could sing if he wanted to, but that was a rare thing. He could dance with the grace of any ballroom dancer, his rhythm and style even outshining his eldest brother, Mr Lady-swooner himself.

Music was part of Virgil’s soul.

So, what happened late one Wednesday night after one too many rescues and ten too many drinks was quite surprising to them all.

The Tracy brothers weren’t big drinkers. They couldn’t afford to be due to their occupation. Both Scott and Virgil had been known to down a late night sniff of whisky on occasion. John had his boutique beers, but honestly, he wasn’t home very often to drink them, and space and alcohol was never a good combination.

Gordon fancied an odd cocktail from time to time and had the liquor stash to back it up, but most of the bottles were dusty and a couple well past their expiry dates. They just didn’t have the time or the opportunity to really let rip.

But it was Wednesday. The last rescue of five had been an avalanche and they always sucked. The boys had congregated in the living room…and it was a living room, not a damned comms room because International Rescue was down for a good forty-eight hours, Grandma’s orders.

They were all exhausted, but none wanted to sleep. They wouldn’t admit it, but there was fear in what they might find behind closed eyelids after such a shitty day, so they just sat together.

At first it was quiet. One or two words, fragmented debrief, until Virgil put an end to it and demanded John come home. Now!

Fifteen minutes later, the middle brother, just as exhausted as the rest, slunk into the living room and made a seat his own.

But there was little talking, each caught up in their own thoughts.

“Screw this.” Gordon jumped to his feet. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” And he disappeared around the corner.

Scott didn’t pay much attention, his eyes on John, assessing his condition and fast coming to the conclusion that his brother hadn’t slept in at least the last twenty-four hours judging by the bags under his eyes.

“John, have you eaten.”

Turquoise darted in his direction. “Have you?”

A blink and Scott realised he hadn’t. He had been too occupied keeping track of tired brothers. “No.” Honestly, he wasn’t hungry.

“Then you understand.”

A glare in his brother’s direction. John just turned away.

Scott’s lips thinned, but then his attention was taken by Alan, who was slowly tipping sideways on his couch, eyelids drooping. “Alan, you should go to bed.”

“Don’t wanna. Wanna stay with you guys.” His head landed on the couch cushion and two seconds later he was snoring.

Scott sighed.

“I have cake. I have popcorn. I have drinks.” Hurricane Gordon slammed into the sunken lounge and a pile of popcorn, chips, a rather large cake and a bucket of candy landed with him. The whole mess was dumped on the table and the aquanaut disappeared again.

Scott just stared at the pile of food.

“Well, that’s the healthy option.” Virgil’s voice was pure sarcasm.

“Do you really care?” Honestly, Virg.

“Not really, but the principle is there.”

Scott rolled his eyes. Just in time for Gordon to reappear with half his alcohol stash, several of John’s beers and whisky. Glorious, golden whisky.

Now that was a very good idea.

What happened after the appearance of the alcohol involved a movie Scott didn’t pay much attention to, far too much carbohydrate…c’mon, caramel popcorn, yes…and a lot of alcohol.

After all, they were down for forty-eight hours guaranteed and how often did that happen? This was an opportunity for them to focus on themselves and despite their exhaustion, there was finally a little relaxation in front of…the Enterprise?

“Who gave John the remote?!”

“I did.” The feminine AI’s voice danced through the room in amusement.

“Eos! That’s cheating!”

She giggled. “I thought Gordon was cheating when he stuck it in his drink.”

Scott turned to his aquanaut brother who was dressing the sleeping Alan’s hair with popcorn. “Gordon!”

“What?!” The cocktail in his hand had an umbrella and a remote control garnishing it.

“You drowned the remote.”

“Huh?” He looked at his drink. “Oh.” And he pulled it out of the concoction and started licking it clean.

“Augh.”

A blur of red plaid and Virgil snatched the gadget from Gordon’s fingers and flicked it into the nearest pot plant.

Gordon appeared forlorn for its absence for a whole second before turning to his drink and sculling it all in one go.

“Gordon!” This time it was Virgil yelling his name.

The aquanaut had blue curacao for lipstick. “What?!” It was a direct echo of his same exasperated response moments earlier.

“Take it easy.”

“I don’t want to take it easy. I’m having fun.” With that he grabbed a bottle and dumped something red into the same glass with the blue, resulting in a rather unpleasant purple.

Scott groaned.

Which only earned him an assessing stare from Virgil.

A sigh. “Relax, Virgil. We’re home, we’re safe. Let your hair down a little.”

He was going to regret those words later.

The stare turned into a glare, but moments later, Gordon was ribbing Virgil about drinking and somehow he got under the engineer’s skin because there was a drinking contest.

Unfortunately for Gordon, swimmer’s physique or not, apparently Virgil was more brawn and could simply just absorb the stuff.

Gordon ended up snoozing in a sea of popcorn beside Alan.

John started giggling.

Scott raised an eyebrow at the small pyramid of empty beer bottles beside his space brother.

“How many have you had?”

“It’s a tetrahedron. Work it out.” John placed a single bottle at the top of the pyramid and smirked at Scott.

This was definitely a very bad idea.

His own whisky glass was only half empty. He needed to fix that.

It was warm going down.

Gordon started snoring, loudly.

“Okay, that’s it. Time for bed.”

“Don’t wanna go to bed.” Virgil put on the soppiest puppy dog face Scott had ever seen.

John cracked up laughing.

Oh god. “No, bed, now.”

“Okay.” And Virgil stood up.

And took a quick step to the left, then the right, before managing to stabilise himself somewhat upright, but listing slightly to one side.

It was that moment that the movie playing on the holoprojector burst into music.

Music? What the hell were they watching. He stared up into a haze of rebooted retro nineteen fifties and a song about a car and lightning.

“Ooh, I like this one.”

What?

And Virgil was suddenly dancing. Well, it could be considered dancing in some circles, but it mostly consisted of a lot of poorly coordinated butt wiggling and a lot of horizon pointing arms.

The jumping on the couch was really not called for.

“Virg?”

But his brother was lost to the music and dancing his heart and his coordination all out.

“C’mon, Scott, get up and boogie!”

Of course, Virgil was loud enough to wake Gordon, who took one look at Virgil and fell off the couch.

There was far too much butt wiggling happening.

“Virg, come down from there.”

He was completely ignored.

Scott needed more alcohol.

The bottle of golden oblivion smiled at him.

Screw it.

He wasn’t quite sure what happened next, but the result was a broken lamp and Gordon on the floor laughing hard enough to break a rib.

“Eos, play Jailhouse Rock.” John managed that between giggles. Scott idly noticed that the tetrahedron had become modern art and was attempting to defy the laws of physics.

It failed with a smash and rolling of bottles two minutes later.

And Virgil was still dancing.

Classic Elvis Presley at full volume, enough to wake up every lifeform in the caldera.

The butt wiggling had morphed into hip waggling and some kind of leg shaking that threatened to faceplant his brother on the floor.

“Virg, please get off the couch.”

“I am having fun, Scott.” Each word was enunciated clearly as if the man was having trouble putting the syllables together. “Letting my hair down.” A grin and Virgil shoved his fingers into his hair and completely messed it up until it was sticking out in all directions. Suddenly a hand was almost in Scott’s face. “Join me?”

There was something in his brother’s deep brown eyes, something beyond the alcoholic haze, something desperate, something…sad.

Scott never could refuse a brother his help. So, a moment later, he found himself standing on the couch as Virgil shifted his dance moves into something that involved some shoulder rolling and a goofy grin.

Scott found himself grinning in return.

John said something half drowned out by the music and the room was suddenly filled with an old dance favourite from his teens.

Virgil actually let off a laugh and moved into a sloppy dance routine from their childhood.

Scott couldn’t help himself and at some point, he just let go.

-o-o-o-

Alan woke from one of the weirdest dreams of his life. It involved music and Thunderbird Three dancing to a beat, her arms waving about.

It took him a moment to work out exactly why.

The dream was saner than reality. Scott and Virgil were standing on one of the couches…dancing.

Alan blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Was that the Macarena? It was hard to tell. Virgil was so uncoordinated, he could have been servicing Two in his sleep for all Alan could discern. Scott was smoother, but he was leaning at a teetering angle.

Frantic eyes located his two other brothers.

John was sitting on the floor beside a pile of empty beer bottles. He had a dob of cake frosting on one eyebrow.

That left Gordon.

The strawberry blond was sitting on the floor in front of Alan’s couch.

“Gords? What’s going on?”

Gordon turned around and a soft smile curved his lips. “Big bros are letting their hair down.” The music suddenly paused and Gordon sat up straighter. “Eos, Dance Party 2054.”

More music erupted from the overhead speakers and vibrated the glass walls.

Alan found himself bopping to the beat.

Virgil climbed up off the couch and onto the hardwood floor, apparently so he could really let loose. His plaid shirt was undone and swirling around him as he moved.

Scott tripped over the top of the couch and almost faceplanted on that same hardwood, but he saved himself the bruises with those half-sharp reflexes of his. A moment later he was up boogying with his brother.

It was an odd sight.

“Are they okay?”

Gordon’s voice was quiet. “No, but they will be.”

“What about John?”

Gordon shrugged as they both eyed the slouched astronaut. “Not sure he has it in him, fresh down from Five. He’s safer on the floor.”

“What about you?”

Gordon snorted. “I’m good.” He chucked down the remains of his drink before turning to face his little brother. “Wanna dance?”

Alan’s eyes widened. “How are you?” His eyes bounced to the empty bottles on the table, the stained glasses and limp umbrellas.

“What? Do you really think I can’t outlast Virg? The man is a drinking wimp. Only took two good ones to get him dancing with the fairies. Letting him win was the hard part.”

“Win what?”

A snort. “Virg thinks he can drink me under the table. He’s small fry.” The aquanaut stumbled to his feet and Alan eyed him. Gordon had definitely had a few. “You aren’t allowed to kill brain cells. However, you can have fun, dear little brother.” He held out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

He blamed sleep fog for the automatic yes that found him up and out of the sunken lounge, careening around the room laughing his ass off.

-o-o-o-

“John, what is happening?”

The astronaut blinked dopily. Maybe he had had one too many, but with each one, the voices faded just that little bit more. Calls for help he was desperate to answer.

And the silences that followed.

“They’re dancing, Eos.” It was obvious really.

“I’ve never seen them act like this before.”

“Doesn’t happen very often.” If ever. What was Scott trying to do with their father’s chair? “Eos, could you please close the doors to the balcony.” Gravity did suck after all.

He took another swig of Swedish beer as the giant glass doors slid smoothly closed.

“Can you access the room lighting?”

“One moment. I have control, John.”

“Good. Reference the 1970s disco movement and see if you can replicate any of the lighting involved.”

“FAB.”

A few moments later and the room’s lighting went nuts. The holoprojector flickered and shone dancing rainbows on the rafters. The atmosphere changed radically as the whole room pulsed and flickered in beat with the music.

Virgil froze for a whole five seconds in the middle of the room, staring up at the glass ceiling before bursting into a massive grin and throwing himself into a full on fit of dancing to the song that was screaming out of the speakers.

Scott was pirouetting with his father’s chair in great rotating circles.

Gordon was attempting some kind of retro-breakdancing. Though at this point, the only thing that was going to be broken was pot plants.

Alan had a grin on his face and was the most coordinated of them all, jiggling along to the beat with a grin on his face.

Another figure appeared in the entrance to the room. It took John’s entire remaining intellect to realise that it was Grandma.

Something stirred in the back of John’s head, something about getting in trouble, but he had no coordination to connect the dots so gave up. Besides, the Grandma figure was only standing in the doorway watching.

“What is the purpose of all this activity?” Eos’ voice was ever curious.

“It’s fun, Eos. An attempt at stress relief.” To wash the pain away.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was vaguely aware that he was being ridiculous, but he was beyond caring. The music pulsed through him and lifted him up. He just let it all go and rode the beat.

He was too exhausted to care about anything.

Except his brothers.

He always cared about his brothers.

Scott was astride their father’s chair and was riding it across the room in a completely undignified manner. Gordon was laughing his ass off at the sight and Alan was beside him in that. Even John was grinning as the eldest coasted past.

Virgil spun and let the air stream around him.

Round and round and round.

Oh dear, too round.

He staggered to a halt, but the world kept going. He stumbled.

A hand caught him. “Take it easy, honey.”

The blur turned into his grandmother in her dressing gown.

“Grandma!” He drew her in to a massive hug. “I love you, Grandma.”

Her tiny arms hugged him back. “Virgil, you’re drunk.”

“No, no, I’m dancing. Wanna dance, Grandma?”

She was looking up at him with concern on her face.

“Smile, Grandma. You need to be happy.”

He needed to be happy.

She reached up and touched his face, her hand cupping his cheek.

He closed his eyes and leant into her palm as the beat throbbed around him.

-o-o-o-

The sight of his grandmother sobered Scott immediately. The chair beneath him drifted a few more feet before he brought it to a halt.

Grandma caught Virgil as he stumbled and they were hugging. Something about that simple gesture clenched his heart.

He clambered off the chair and staggered awkwardly. Okay, maybe he had a few too many. He forced himself upright, kicking some spine into his vertebrae and made his way over to his grandmother.

Virgil was all plaid and gentle eyes as she cupped his cheek.

“Grandma?” Scott’s voice wavered with his step.

Eyes as blue as his own turned towards him. “Scotty, you need to sit down before you fall down.”

He frowned. He had a chair a moment ago. He looked around.

A hand caught his cheek and drew his gaze back to his grandmother and those blue eyes.

A red arm wrapped around him and drew him in. “Scott, you are my big brother.” The statement was declared with so much love as he was pulled sideways into Virgil.

They almost fell in a heap. It was Grandma who steadied them.

“You boys need to go to bed.” A concerned frown and she called out to the ceiling. “Eos, kill the light show and the music.”

The silence that fell was so sudden, Scott almost fell with it.

Virgil stumbled and Scott held him upright.

An almighty crash off to their left and Gordon upended one of the large pot plants near the glass doors. Potting mix scattered across the floor. Gordon rolled over and sat up covered in the stuff. “Who turned off the music?”

Grandma straightened. “It is time for bed, young man.”

The dopey aquanaut looked up at his grandmother and squinted. “Grandma, is that you?”

She ignored him. “Alan, come here, sweety.”

Alan, who was yawning fit to break his jaw, wandered over as bidden.

“Yes, Grandma?”

She snaked an arm around his waist and drew him in. “Time for bed, Allie.”

Virgil reached out an arm to snag his littlest brother, but suddenly Gordon was in his way and he got an arm full of fish instead.

Virgil did not seem to mind. “Gordo! My wingman, my copilot, my fish in a barrel.” Red plaid squeezed tight. “Love you, bro.”

Scott blinked. That was three. Where was the other one?

A glance at the lounge found John sprawled on the floor up against one of the lounges, fast asleep.

“Oi, Johnny!”

Scott jumped at Virgil’s yell and so did John. Bleary turquoise peered in their direction.

“Get over here, little brother, group hug!”

Wha-? Scott’s head was so foggy.

But John was stumbling to his feet. Something told him this was a dangerous thing. As the astronaut wobbled over, Scott moved to help him, but found himself snagged by cast iron red plaid.

Fortunately, Alan picked up on his fellow spaceman’s difficulties and hurried over to give him a hand. A few moments of wobbly astronaut and John was standing with them.

Virgil immediately reached for him. “Johnny!”

Unfortunately, he didn’t let go of either Gordon or Scott when he did and, damn, Virgil was strong. They ended up in a huddle, Alan and Grandma awkwardly caught up with them.

“I love you guys.” Virgil’s voice was muffled up against John’s shirt. Scott had caught Grandma and Gordon had grabbed Alan. Virgil had his face mushed into John’s shoulder.

John looked like he had stuck a finger in an electrical socket and didn’t know why his hair was on fire.

“We love you, too, Virgil.” It was Gordon’s voice, muffled by Alan’s hair.

Something lodged in Scott’s throat and he found himself hugging the pieces of brother and grandmother he could reach.

Apparently, it was something they all needed, because they stayed there holding each other for a full minute.

Just long enough for Virgil to fall asleep against John’s shoulder and let off a snore. It took Gordon and Scott to catch him to prevent them all from falling in a heap.

The group hug dissolved and the focus became getting certain brothers to their bedrooms. Grandma hovered and helped where she could. Scott took Virgil, while Gordon switched to helping Alan with John.

The family went their separate ways.

Grandma followed Scott up to Virgil’s rooms. The engineer faded in and out, declaring his love for any and all brothers several times on the way up. But by the time they made it to Virgil’s room, the engineer was getting heavy.

“C’mon, Virg, not much further.” Scott was ever so glad of that as his head was still trying to swim against the current.

Letting him gently down on his bed, the man immediately curled up into a ball, fully dressed and obviously not caring. Scott undid green shoelaces, dumped boots on the floor with a clatter and yanked the covers up and over his already snoring little brother.

A hand smoothed crazed hair back into its more familiar style and Scott unfolded from the bed.

A glass of water appeared on the bedside table and he turned to find his grandmother looking at him fondly. He blinked. He had forgotten she was there.

She held out a hand and as he took it, he was drawn into a quiet hug. She was ever so little up against his bulk. “C’mon, Scotty, let’s get you to bed.”

“I’m okay, Grandma. I need to check on the others.”

She sighed, but let go a single nod.

As they left Virgil’s rooms, she didn’t leave his side.

A visit to John’s room found him in bed, but the wrong way around, his feet on the pillow, his head hanging off the end. It took some prodding and yanking, but Scott re-orientated him. A quick check of the gravity support systems in his clothing were functioning properly – the alcohol probably wasn’t helping. Grandma materialised with another glass of water which was placed on John’s bedside table.

Quietly. “Eos, are you monitoring, John’s systems?”

“Of course. He is well, Commander. Do not concern yourself. I will watch him.”

Scott’s eyes closed without permission and he had to force them open again. “Thank you, Eos.”

The AI didn’t answer.

Grandma took his arm and led him from the room.

A check on Alan found him on the floor, but that was nothing unusual. Gordon had probably dumped him there. The kid preferred the rug to his bed and Scott meant to talk to him about it, but…life.

Gordon had fallen asleep in the corridor outside his room.

Scott rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t be surprised if the brat had done that on purpose. After all the entire night’s fracas was obviously engineered by the aquanaut. A fond sigh of exasperation and he pulled his little brother into his arms and dragged him into his rooms.

Dragging fish was considerably easier than dragging two hundred pounds of engineer.

Scott threw Gordon onto his bed and covered him up. Fingers brushed hair off his face.

Scott sighed again and had to prevent himself from curling up beside his brother.

“C’mon, Scotty, your turn.”

Scott mumbled something even he didn’t fully comprehend and let his grandmother lead him out of his brother’s rooms. One of the aquariums blurped at him as he walked past.

And finally, he was in his own rooms and his own bed. Grandma handed him a glass of water. He guzzled it before burying his face in his pillow.

He opened his eyes as a hand brushed through his hair. “We love you, Scotty. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He blinked slowly and managed a smile up at his grandmother, but her fingers caressed the side of his face, forcing his eyes to close again and he drifted off.

His dreams were kind.

And full of loving family.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[amphtaminedreams]

Filling the Met Shaped Hole (No, Not Like That): The Best Red Carpet Looks of Awards Season 2020

Hi to anyone reading,

I want to jump straight into things and ask a question. Which is the best Met Gala theme of the last 5 years and why is it Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and the Catholic Imagination?

Seriously though, despite the fact that I’m not sure anything will top Heavenly Bodies with the preceding and succeeding Met Galas being relatively disappointing (the camp theme definitely could have been taken further and lets not even talk about the Comme Des Garcons disaster), I still get excited for the gala every year, staying up til whatever hour of the morning so I can see all the fashion live. Of course, it makes complete sense that this year’s event has been postponed until October given the circumstances but the chosen theme of Fashion and Duration had the potential to be quite interesting, so I hope we do eventually get to see it; whilst I don’t miss endlessly scrolling through photos of every white male celebrity wearing the exact same suit and tie to the point where fangirls claim Harry Styles to be a pioneer of breaking gender norms because he wore a pink top, I long for the days where we could all temporarily coexist in peace and harmony thanks to the internet’s collective dragging of the Kardashians for paying no attention to the theme whatsoever. We should’ve guessed life as we know it was about to be flipped on its head when they actually turned up in something interesting last year.

What I’m trying to say is that I would love nothing more than to jump back in time to when tomorrow morning’s top Google search would be best Met Gala looks, and not how many lives did Boris Johnson’s fuckery cost us today. So in honour of the lack of trivial content, I thought I’d fill the Met shaped hole in our lives (amongst many other unfilled holes; today the freezer door at work hit me on the ass whilst I was putting ice cubes out and I think for a split second I got all flushed) by putting together a collection of my personal favourite red carpet looks from this year’s awards season and their respective afterparties: the BAFTAs, Brits, Critic’s Choice Awards, Golden Globes, Oscars, SAG Awards, and the Grammys to finish with.

Enjoy!

British Academy of Film and Television Arts Award (yes, that’s the BAFTAs but I needed a longer title)

(L-R: Zoe Kravitz in Dior, Rooney Mara in Givenchy, and Scarlett Johansson in Versace)

I am a British fan of television and arts but I will gladly say it: of all the awards ceremonies, the BAFTAs is hardly the most exciting, and the red carpet even less so. As I said, lots of boring men in boring suits and middle aged women being dressed by stylists who seem to think we’re dead from the neck down by the time we hit 40 and dress us accordingly so. Any hint of a décolletage explicitly forbidden.

There were a few good looks, however. From left to right, above we have Zoe Kravitz in Dior, Rooney Mara in Givenchy and Scarlett Johansson in Versace, who looks so amazing I almost forget that 1). Versace is going down the drain and 2). Scarlett Johansson would stand in front of a forest and take the role of a tree if she could. Which, along with her whole defence of Woody Allen, is really shit-she’s genuinely great in Marriage Story and an otherwise talented actress. As for Zoe Kravitz, she is up there with Robert Pattison as one of my biggest crushes right now and looks amazing in literally everything she wears, and Rooney Mara is consistently low-key yet elegantly dressed. 

(L-R: Greta Gerwig in Gucci, Florence Pugh in Dries Van Noten, Renee Zellweger in Prada)

Renee Zellweger proved an exception to the rule when it came to women over the age of 40 generally having clueless stylists-her dress is beautiful, very reminiscent of the delicate, demure beauty of 50s icons such as Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn. Florence’s dress, I actually really loved. It didn’t seem to go down all too well with actual Florence Pugh fans but red and pink together is an elite combo; I’m still firmly on the “surprised that it works but I’m into it” train. I mainly included Greta’s dress for the green velvet, to be honest; it’s disappointingly low-key for Gucci but nice enough all the same.

(L-R: Andrew Scott in Paul Smith, Charlize Theron in Dior, Daisy Ridley in Oscar de la Renta, and Emilia Clarke in Schiaparelli)

I was particularly excited to see Emilia Clarke in Schiaparelli-yes, I adore her because she played Daenerys Targaryen and I was ride or die for that bitch but also whenever I see her interviewed she has the most exuberant energy and honestly I want to be best friends. It’s not the most interesting dress Schiaparelli has ever put out there, but I like the fact that she went for something unique all the same.

Forest green is a colour I find hard to resist which is why I included Andrew Scott’s otherwise kinda basic suit (points for it being velvet) and Daisy Ridley in Oscar de la Renta. As elegant as the dress is, I would love for her stylist to have really leaned into the forest nymph vibes I’m getting and do something a bit less uptight with the hair and makeup; like imagine loose curls with tiny braids and hair rings and a dark lip and a slight smoke around the eye and...yes, I have very specific visions, I know. As for Charlize Theron, her work with Dior is the only reason I care about the brand; there’s definitely a case to be made here for giving Maria Grazia the benefit of the doubt, assuming that she tries all the prototypes on women who look like Charlize and that that’s why she’s happy to send dresses that are otherwise relatively underwhelming down the runway. 

The Brit Awards

(L-R: Charli XCX in Fendi, Ellie Goulding in Koche, Hailee Steinfeld in Fendi, and Harry Styles in Gucci)

In my opinion a much better reflection of quintessential British style than the BAFTAs, I originally ruled out including any music award ceremony red carpets in this post until I saw Maya Jama and Charli XCX’s looks. Consider me pleasantly surprised by Hailee Steinfeld’s cobalt blue burnout dress, a classic incarnation of the regal bohemian aesthetic Fendi channelled in their 2019 haute couture show. Plus Charli’s emo take on Glinda the Good Witch is also Fendi, driving home for me just how much I love their collections. I don’t know if I’d be sure about Ellie Goulding’s dress on the rack but the simple styling makes it work and she looks gorgeous, and Harry Styles looks just as pretty in a Gucci look that is MADE for him.

(L-R: Adwoah Aboah in Vivienne Westwood, Celeste in Gucci on the far right! I’m not sure who the guy in the middle is, I’m sorry and if anybody knows drop me a message and I will correct this immediately!)

Unfortunately, Harry Styles and Celeste didn’t get to pose together because this is really a perfect his and hers Gucci look; I feel like seeing one outfit next to the other would really highlight the quirky elegance of each. That being said, it feels criminal to talk about elegance without including Adwoah Aboah in Vivienne Westwood in the sentence; the dress is obviously stunning quality on its own merit, but Adwoah is what elevates it from unremarkable to ethereal. Fuck the weird ass knight figure that’s currently on top of the Brit Award, this woman is the definition of statuesque! Put her on top of the trophy you cowards!

And just to get it out of the way, when it comes to the guy in the middle, to quote Keke Palmer:

Sorry to this man.

Honestly, I saved all the red carpet photos from a Nylon (I think it was Nylon?) article back when the awards aired and towards the end of the photos they stopped including names-this happened a few times when I was looking through red carpet galleries. I reverse image searched where I could but not every photo turned anything up. If anyone does know who this man is, message me so I can include his name. He looks sick, and as far as suits go, this one is built upon and accessorised enough that it’s actually a look rather than the same old variation of a suit we’ve seen a million times before that may as well be the straight man’s designated red carpet uniform. 

(L-R: Maya Jama, Neh Neh Cherry in Bottega Veneta, Laura Whitmore)

And now the woman that forced me to include the Brits red carpet in this post in the first place: Maya Jama. Don’t get me wrong, my mind isn’t blown by this dress on its own, I probably prefer Laura Whitmore’s (Jaded do a similar newspaper dress and I’ve resisted adding it to my basket for 6 months now, this is the ultimate test of whether or not I finally cave), but Maya looks fucking MAGNIFICENT. The fit, the gloves, the confidence with which she carries it, it’s all SO good. Considering the timing, this is basically her Princess Diana revenge dress levelled up, 2020′s Jessica Rabbit moment. 

(L-R: Maya Jama, Ellie Goulding, Kendall Jenner)

Obviously anything is gonna be a step down from the red carpet look but Maya’s Brits afterparty outfit was cute too, if a tad Pretty Little Thing. 

Don’t ask me what Kendall Jenner was doing at the Brits afterparty btw, because I have no idea. We live in a world where the Kardashian-Jenners just seem to occupy every public space possible and I’ve begrudgingly accepted it at this point. I don’t have the energy to question it-and it helps that green catsuit is actually Very Cool™. 

For the last of my favourite Brit Awards looks, we have a few more afterparty photos-from left to right we have Charli XCX again, Lizzo, and Anne Marie. It was Charli posting her dress on Instagram that sent me searching for afterparty looks in the first place; apparently wearing nothing but feathers and crystals is something that appeals to me, and the more I read that statement, the more it sounds spot-on. I’d categorise it as gothic glamour hoe, and slot it in with the rest of the night-out clothes in my wardrobe that I think I’ll finally have the balls to wear out of sheer desperation once this lockdown is over. The Blossom to Charli XCX’s Buttercup here, we’ve also got Anne Marie looking extra AF and I loveeeee it; it’s an ensemble somewhere between a high-end version of Alaska Thunderfuck’s candyfloss Sugar Ball dress from season 5 of Drag Race (Alaska DID deserve to win AS2 nation, rise up) and a low-key version of a Katy Perry California Dreams Tour costume. I don’t call it low-key as a drag, just a regretful admission of the fact that maybe wearing a cupcake bra which squirts whipped cream out of the boobs is a bit too much for most of us. 

Critic’s Choice Awards

(L-R: Alison Brie in Brandon Maxwell, Chloe Bridges in Azeeza, Cynthia Erivo in Fendi, Florence Pugh in Prada)

I was going to say the Critic’s Choice Awards is kind of America’s version of the BAFTAs but then I remembered that the BAFTAs is really the only big TV and film awards ceremony we have here in the UK and that it’s kind of sad that I have to compare our most high-profile red carpet of the year to L.A’s most low-key one. Getting Cynthia Erivo and Florence Pugh to infiltrate is the best we can do. 

THAT BEING SAID! 

They both look amazing. This is Florence’s best red carpet look of this year, imo (she the prettiest icicle I’ve ever seen), and Cynthia Erivo’s arm must ache from serving the entire awards season. And in Fendi! Taste!

Side note before we move onto the next set of looks: has anybody else watched Alison Brie in Mad Men and Community simultaneously and experienced the extreme cognitive dissonance that comes from watching her play a tragically nerdy (relatable tbh) 18 year old and an overly-sophisticated 30 something married to an ad man in the 60s at the same time? Weird, but anyway! The orange dress with the red lipstick is channelling Marina Diamandis’ Froot era style subtle sex appeal and is a timeless, playful combo. Put the hair up into a beehive and it’s Megan Draper on a date in Cabo-don’t know much about the place but I know the sea is aqua and the sun seekers are blindingly white and the cocktails are plentiful (and whatever colour you want them to be), and all that together is a juicy palette if we’re talking cinematography. The Mad Men directors are out there somewhere shaking their fists at the sky that they never got to consult me on that, I’m sure. 

(L-R: Phoebe Waller-Bridge in Dior, Saoirse Ronan in Erdem and Zendaya in Tom Ford)

Zendaya’s red carpet look was the stand out of the Critic’s Choice Awards for sure; the skirt I can do without but I hope that hot pink metal breastplate ends up on display somewhere because that is ART, and she is the perfect person to wear it. The Tiffany Pollard “she's so powerful” meme was made for this moment. 

Also, can we talk about Phoebe Waller-Bridge backing up my Dior 2019 Haute Couture wasn’t *that* bad hypothesis? Because unless I’m mistaken this is one of the dresses from that collection and it is quite beautiful. Yeah, black mesh isn’t going to start a revolution or anything but it’s so delicate looking it almost seems out of place on a red carpet-I don’t know if it’s the structure of the bodice or the tulle but I can totally see this in a gothic ballet, whether that’s sensible in theory or not. Probably not. But then again I did quit ballet when I was 10 after months of getting people to near poke me in the eye on the way out of class so it would look like I’d been crying and I didn’t have to go to my lessons after school. So what do I know? Fuck all, in case that wasn’t clear. I also feel a little vindicated by Saoirse wearing one of the Erdem dresses I loved from last year’s collection-if multi-award winning actress Saoirse Ronan’s probably ridiculously well-paid stylist liked it enough to pick it out for her then I guess I’m doing okay in terms of taste levels.

(L-R: Olivia Wilde in Valentino, Lucy Hale in Miu Miu, Mandy Moore in Elie Saab, and Margaret Qualley in Chanel)

The last few Critics Choice Awards looks I picked out above aren’t thrilling or anything but they’re cute enough to include-from left to right we have Olivia Wilde in Valentino, Lucy Hale in Miu Miu, Mandy Moore in Elie Saab and Margaret Qualley in Chanel. It’s kind of besides the point, but Margaret worked with Chanel throughout awards season and I just wanted to add my two cents in here and say that I think she’s the perfect person to collaborate with (also think Laura Harrier would be a good match, anyone agree?) and that in a similar vein, I urge Miu Miu, the creative directors of which I’m sure are eagerly awaiting the opinion of irrelevant Tumblr user amphtaminedreams, to work with Lucy Hale more often. I feel like if girl stopped starring in those shitty Blumhouse horrors and did something a bit more sophisticated she’d fit the brand right down to a T.

The Golden Globes

(L-R: Cynthia Erivo in Thom Browne, Dakota Fanning in Dior, Jane Levy in Steven Khalil, and Janina Gavankar in Georges Chakra)

Finally! I hear you cry! A more exciting red carpet! It’s not the Oscars, but celebrity stylists still pulled the big guns for this one, the Golden Globes probably being considered the second most prestigious American awards ceremony of the year. Plus Dakota Fanning was there! Big yay for me! She and Elle can practically do no wrong in my eyes and are probably the only 2 women that could take on Dakota Johnson and Jennifer Lawrence when it comes to established red carpet style. 

Cynthia Erivo did it again, of course, as slick, as dignified and as regal as she was at the Critic’s Choice. The woman really has got this power stance thing locked down; she always seems so cool and confident in everything she wears that the whole getting dressed up to go out out out (we call going to the club going “out out”, but I’d say a red carpet is a slightly bigger deal than my local club with the sticky floors hence the 3rd out) thing looks like second nature.

(L-R: Zoey Deutch in Fendi, Karamo Brown in Grayscale, Lucy Boynton in Louis Vuitton and Kat Graham in Georges Hobeika)

Lucy Boynton was another of my Golden Globes stand outs, and in general is someone who I really look forward to seeing at red carpet events. She (or her stylist, I don’t know how much of a role she plays!) always seems to commit fully to an outfit and sees it as part of a whole concept where the makeup, hair and accessories are equally as important and that is a girl after my own heart. 60s space age empress is the theme here and I’m all about it-well, either that or a feminine editorial take on the tinman from the Wizard of Oz but the former sounds a bit cooler and does way more justice to how good she looks so we’ll go with that. Quick shoutout to Kat Graham too because she looked absolutely radiant. 

(L-R: Shailene Woodley in Balmain, Winnie Harlow in Laquan Smith, and Zoe Kravitz in Saint Laurent)

The trio above I really couldn’t skim over, Winnie Harlow especially; my America’s Next Top Model grudges aside, she consistently turns it out at every event she’s invited to. She’s another woman that wears pieces with such confidence that they look like they were actually made on her body-even if the garment itself isn’t the most breathtaking in the room, she’s the one that draws my attention. Though she’s got these dainty, other-worldly qualities about her, what you’d expect to be a gentle presence is firm and commanding and whilst the sharp drama and glitz of the dress probably helps, that’s just the way Winnie Harlow is naturally, based on her other red carpet appearances. 

Zoe Kravitz is an interesting one because, on the one hand, her looking amazing with that bone structure (I would trade a vital organ to look like that any day) is a given, but it does also seem like she went out of her way to do something a bit different this past awards season. I have always loved her street style for its trademark edge and the androgynous, oversized silhouettes that she leans towards, and the overt femininity of her red carpet dresses is that grungy, skater girl aesthetic completely flipped on its head. It’s cute, and if anyone can pull a dress as kitschy as this off, it’s Zoe. She’s got that just rolled out of bed look we all dream of that screams “I’m over this shit” whereas the rest of us have to rely on dark circles to get the message across. It’s very weird to think that she and Shailene Woodley were in Divergent together, especially since Zoe in particular has changed so much since. 

My main note with Shailene was just that I got excited to see that Balmain dress off the runway-it was one of my favourites from the S/S 2020 collection (IIRC, mostly on the basis that I’m pretty sure it wan’t haute couture), and it looks good! Not wildly good because I’m not sure the fit of the dress is inherently all that flattering, but still good-she makes it work.

(L-R: Taylor Swift in Etro, Sofia Carson in Giambattista Valli and Scarlett Johansson in Vera Wang)

I know a lot of people online didn’t seem to like Taylor Swift’s dress, but she looks cute, imo. I will say that I’m surprised it’s Etro! At first glance I would’ve thought Carolina Herrera or Oscar de la Renta or something along those lines. And predictably, I think Sofia Carson looks flawless. If you’ve read any of my other posts you’re probably sick of hearing it but I really can’t resist anything that is this modern Disney princess, like powder pink layered tulle? Feathers? What did you expect me to say, ew? I think deep down my clothing preferences will always be that of a 9 year old girl and you know what, that’s okay. Sometimes. Well, when it comes to red carpets. That’s when you can kinda get away with it.

(L-R: Bell Powley in Miu Miu, Billy Porter in Alex Vinash, and Charlize Theron in Dior)

There’s a few things worth mentioning when it comes to the above outfits. Firstly, and most importantly, I need to proclaim my love for Billy Porter. No man is doing it like him, honestly. To compare Harry Styles in his pink suits is unfair. The drama and the beauty and the flair that Billy brings every awards ceremony is on another level and that’s all I have to say about that. If you disagree, I’m gonna need a bullet pointed essay-I am that firm in my opinion.

Second, Bell Powley in Miu Miu semi confirms the direction their PR team tend to head in when choosing women to work with. I might be totally alone here but I feel like she and Lucy Hale both have one of those porcelain doll faces which work really well with Miu Miu’s signature girlish silhouettes and overly-ornate details. 

And thirdly, just to restate my earlier point: someone give Charlize Theron a pat on the back for bringing some life to a Dior design. That is all.

(L-R: Jodie Comer in Mary Katrantzou, Joey King in Schiaparelli and Kaitlyn Dever in Valentino)

All the newcomers really turned it out too, which is a sentence I type through gritted teeth; to call Jodie Comer of My Mad Fat Diary origins a newcomer pains the former depressing 2013 black and white Tumblr user in me, though I suppose to the US audiences uncultured in the ways of British teenage angst Vilanelle is her breakthrough role. And how Vilanelle is this dress too!? It’s bold and it’s attention-grabbing and it’s fun and it is definitely very theatrical female fictional villain that you were inexplicably drawn to as a child before you realised why as an adult-”oh, it’s because she was hot”. 

Joey King in Iris van Herpen was a pleasant surprise too considering that when I first looked through the red carpet photos I only knew her as the girl who was in that shitty Netflix original-having watched her in The Act, I apologise for the dismissal! And I admire the sartorial choice! I adore Iris van Herpen designs but as a short girl, wearing one of her dresses to a red carpet event is a risky decision-I hate to admit it because casting a diverse range of people for shows is something I have come to expect of my favourite brands, but the appeal of a lot of IvH pieces comes from the movement of the garments on standard willowy runway models. Fortunately, the styling is really complementary here, and whilst it can’t be denied that the dress itself does swamp her a bit, I liked that she and her stylist stepped out of the box. 

Kaitlyn Dever’s red carpet look is obviously a lot more typical, but you can't go wrong with a Valentino dress, and this one in particular is so suited to the aura she gives off-it’s young and it’s fun and it’s fresh and the intricate floral print, otherwise muted if not for the spring influenced pops of pink and red, is timelessly pretty.

(L-R: Akwafina in Dior, Saoirse Ronan in Celine, Beanie Feldstein in Oscar de la Renta, and Renee Zellweger in Armani)

Lastly, there was Saoirse Ronan in Celine-one of my highlights of the night; she looked phenomenal, a glacial toned dream, and it was pretty different to what I generally expect to see her in. I might be way off base and in need of a bit of a review of her red carpet style, but I feel like she usually leans more towards pretty than edgy with regards to her styling at these kinds of events and a loose fitting, gun metal glittered slip dress is, imo, the perfect way to hit that previously uncharted midway point between the two.

(L-R: Kate Bosworth in Prabal Gurung, Kathryn Newton in Valentino and Sarah Hyland)

Now onto the afterparty looks, and I’m not gonna lie, they’re usually the highlight of the ceremonies for me; I feel like the initial ceremony is all about looking respectful and maintaining that whole dedicated actor image, whereas it seems the literal point of these showbiz parties is a competition to be the best dressed person in the room. Competition really makes people step their game up, and we always get to see more young talent whose style tends to be more current than that of the people we see on the red carpet. 

I’ve got to say, as annoying as I found her character in The Society, I have to overlook that gut instinct of irritation when I see Kathryn Newton and accept how stunning everything going on here is; honestly, she looks like an angel, and I feel like the team at Valentino must reeeeally like her to put her in that dress.

(L-R: Alexa Demie, Ashley Benson in Georges Hobeika, Maude Apatow and Barbie Ferreira)

Obviously I was super excited to see the Euphoria girls on the red carpet, especially Alexa Demie-she does 90s/early noughties inspired glamour better than anyone else on the young actor scene right now and her personal style and the sass she does so well as Maddy Perez shines through every time. Whilst Barbie Ferreira’s look is more casual and achievable for the rest of us in terms of wearability, it’s just as interesting a take on the same period; the delicate pink makeup, hair and jewellery with the 90s inspired slip dress in light teal is a red carpet take on soft grunge for the ages. As for Ashley Benson, she always looks gorgeous and that’s all I’m gonna say before I get emotional and start going into a rant about how her and Cara Delevigne’s relationship was one of the only good things about this shitshow of a year and how now that they’ve broken up the single flame of hope inside me has been extinguished and how their sex swing is gonna get so lonely with them caught in the middle of an ugly custody battle and-

You get the idea.

(L-R: Storm Reid, Sophia Bush in John Paul Ataker, and Sydney Sweeney)

(L-R: Billie Lourd, Paris Hilton, and Camila Morrone)

The Oscars

(L-R: Charlize Theron in Dior, Cynthia Erivo, and Florence Pugh in Louis Vuitton)

Ah, the Oscars. This is where the big money is really spent, and bad decisions are made-in fairness, this year’s winners were a lot more satisfying than usual and I think all of us felt that Parasite was a well-deserved win. I really thought it was gonna be Once Upon a Time in Hollywood just as a bit of a token gesture to Tarantino considering it’s his 9th film, though undoubtedly his worst of the ones I’ve seen, so I was relieved that this wasn’t the case. That being said, it still pains me to see the horror genre being ignored by the academy-in my mind, Florence is here for her performance in Midsommar just as much as Little Women. 

At the risk of getting repetitive, just assume my opinions on Charlize Theron in Dior here are the same again, that Cynthia Erivo is still bringing goddess energy (this is probably my favourite of her looks), and that against the opinion of the masses, Florence looks divine in this colour. I mean, when I say the masses I just mean the people I follow on Twitter, but still, I just wanted be an excuse to be dramatic so that I could insert a meme.

(L-R: Natalie Portman in Dior, Regina King in Versace, Scarlett Johansson in Oscar de la Renta, and Sandra Oh in Elie Saab)

Once again, Scarlett Johansson’s stylist is doing God’s work; this outfit is everythingggg-the Oscar de la Renta dress is probably my favourite thus far. Like we’re talking angel, but make it fitted and sexy, and I hope you read that in the Tyra Banks voice I intended because 2 memes in a row would rob me of any credibility I’m building as a fashion account and I’m not ready to trash that for bad memes just yet; give it a couple of mental breakdowns and I’ll be there. Natalie Portman’s look was a favourite of mine too, with the cape over the top adding a sophisticated touch to the celestial, slightly bohemian feel of the dress. I initially found the detail of the names embroidered into said cape to be quite moving-in a dream world, directing would be my career of choice and so I really admired the statement-but finding out that Portman herself is the only director hired by her own production company ruined that for me a little bit. Then again, multi-millionaire celebrities making performative gestures for good publicity and not doing all that much to make any real change? Colour me shocked.

(L-R: Beanie Feldstein in Miu Miu, Brie Larson in Celine and Billie Eilish in Chanel)

Now, of all the Miu Miu looks so far, I think Beanie Feldstein definitely got the best one. The intricacy of the embroidery, the silhouette, the old Hollywood stye curls-it’s all so graceful. I’d say this is probably her best look of awards season and she and her stylist did a really great job.

And as for Billie Eilish...Guys...do you think she might be wearing...Chanel...by any chance? I’m not sure.

Seriously though, as far as an oversized tweed suit with the brand’s logo emblazoned all over it goes, I like this look. The acid green roots and the jewellery are what make it for me, adding to the grunginess of the outfit which is interesting against Chanel’s prim and proper aesthetic of the last few years. I know she has good reason for the way she dresses, but I’ve never quite been able to appreciate it-this outfit proves to me that her style doesn't automatically equal ugly and occasionally, she can make it work.

(L-R: Leona Lewis, Colton Haynes, Dita von Teese)

Elton John’s Oscars afterparty being the less exciting of the two big ones in terms of fashion-the other being the Vanity Fair afterparty which I’ll cover in a moment-I thought I’d whizz through it (posturing aside though, I bet Sir Elton’s party was a lot more fun).

(L-R: Chiara Ferragni, Donatella Versace, Bella Thorne)

This is a big statement considering Alexa Demie attended, but I think Chiara’s outfit and overall styling might be my favourite of the partygoers; if they decided to do a live action Barbie film in 2020 minus the PG ratio-because lets be real, she’d be a noughties Paris Hilton type and get up to some SHENANIGANS-this is the look that would become iconic. 

(L-R: Ashley Greene in Off-White, Alexa Demie, Sydney Sweeney, Annalynne McCord)

It was a hard decision to make though: I’m just as into Sydney Sweeney’s interpretation of burlesque come 1950s red carpet Barbie, Ashley Greene’s surprisingly delicate Off-White number, and Alexa’s dress and (as always) impeccable styling. That being said, Chiara’s clearest contender here for the best dressed of the night is Annalynne McCord. I know I'm one to throw similes around but she looks like an ACTUAL Disney princess-the dress is magical and an absolutely flawless fit. She carries it with such grace. I'm truly in love.

(L-R: Tessa Thompson in Versace, Vanessa Hudgens in Vera Wang, SZA)

As for the Vanity Fair Oscars afterparty, there were SO many iconic moments this year. SZA was the definition of the fire emoji, Tessa Thompson’s throwback Versace was the mermaid’s take on BDSM fashion I never knew I need to see, and I’d die to turn up to my graduation ceremony (here’s hoping for a successful attempt at the old uni shebang this time, lol) looking as elegant and simultaneously extra as Vanessa Hudgens did in Vera Wang. I mean, this was before Vanessa went on her dumb Instagram live corona rant because she was upset she couldn’t go to Coachella and I still kinda lived for her, mostly because of moments like this. She’s always been the queen of channelling a more hedonistic, carefree era and this dress is the most refined example of that boho decadence yet. It sounds dramatic to say but the rich purple is such a bold choice considering it’s a a colour we rarely see on the red carpet but now I’ve seen eggplant coloured silk I need it, lol. 

(L-R: Suki Waterhouse in Fendi, Lili Reinhart in Marc Jacobs, Lucy Boynton and Margaret Qualley in Chanel)

Then there was Suki, Lilly, Lucy and Margaret as well who all went full angel mode in some of my favourite runway looks of last summer’s haute couture week; Suki’s Fendi dress and Lili’s Marc Jacobs number were highlights of both their shows and there’s something even more magical about them both when the uniformity of the runway is removed. I also would go on about how much I love Lucy Boynton’s style for the millionth time but I think you get my point.

(L-R: Nicole Richie, Cynthia Erivo, Hunter Schafer, Billie Porter)

The more I look at the photos I saved from the Vanity Fair “red” carpet, the more I come to the firm conclusion that these looks are my favourite as a collective. Along with the elegance and sex appeal of the outfits above, we’ve got all these looks too which are so VIBRANT and fun and experimental. Billie Porter is absolutely majestic and continues his reign as the king of in-your-face, theatrical red carpet style, and Hunter and Cynthia look so radiant. Whilst Nicole’s look isn’t as colourful, she still brought drama with the satin gloves and the smoke lined eyes, and she is definitely ready to step on someone’s neck here.

(L-R: Halima Aden, Ella Balinska in Schiaparelli, Emma Roberts, Ciara)

(L-R: Kiki Layne in Michael Kors, Kim Kardashian in Alexander McQueen, Kylie Jenner in Ralph and Russo, Lashana Lynch in Michael Kors)

(L-R: Rowan Blanchard in Iris van Herpen, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, Stella Maxwell, and Sarah Paulson with Holland Taylor)

I’ve got to say, it’s really cool to see Rowan Blanchard in Iris van Herpen too; it’s interesting that as far as I know, she and Joey King were the only ones to wear her this awards season, both being up and coming actresses. It would be a good choice for the brand, probably best known for its futuristic, conceptual aesthetic, to also focus its PR efforts on the young potential inheriting that future. Orrrr it could just be that Rowan, Joey and I have the same (good, lol) taste-not gonna lie, from my experience of stalking her instagram Rowan Blanchard does make some unique fashion choices and her feed is full of bold outfit inspiration.

(L-R: Adriana Lima in Ralph and Russo, Alessandra Ambrosio in Armani, Billie Eilish in Gucci, and Donatella Versace in Versace)

Then there’s Billie Eilish, who is really on another level. This is her second custom made baggy suit of the night, this time Gucci. IMAGINE. Chanel and Gucci making custom pieces to suit your very specific style. Again, though, I really like this; whilst it’s very clearly a Billie outfit, it’s got a level of sophistication, cohesiveness and glamour to it that takes it to that I can admire. 

(L-R: Camila Mendes in Moschino, Barbara Palvin and Dylan Sprouse, and Chiara Ferragni)

Honestly, the Vanity Fair red carpet really belonged to young talent this year, and Camila Mendes in one of my favourite Moschino looks from the Picasso collection really seals it. She could’ve just gone for a basic pretty dress-this isn’t a natural choice-but she really does have the proud, regal look of a woman who knows some man is gonna paint her a portrait that will end up in a famous gallery one day. 

One last thing before I move on, though. How the fuck does Chiara Ferragni get everywhere?! And by that I don’t mean how does she get invited, I had the shock of finding out this woman I followed on Instagram because I liked her outfits and thought she was pretty is a hugely successful businesswoman in Italy long ago. Power to her. She’s a big deal! I get it! I just mean, physically HOW? How do you hit Elton John’s party AND the Vanity Fair party in one night and look this good? God really does have favourites, huh. Well, I guess in this hypothetical scenario where I believe in him anyway. 

The SAG Awards

(L-R: Dakota Fanning in Valentino, Kaitlyn Dever in Ralph Lauren, Scarlett Johansson in Armani, and Zoe Kravitz in Oscar de la Renta)

So, I kinda forgot the SAG awards existed and thought that my post was basically finished before I looked in my folder and saw the one dedicated to this ceremony. My initial reaction was like “oh, this is the shitty Oscars, right?” and I assumed the red carpet would be shit and that I could call it a night-it’s 3:30am, I wish I was calling it a night-but then I looked and saw that I had even more outfit photos saved in that folder than I did for my Oscar dedicated one. Because fuck, I want to to sleep, but the SAG awards had a surprisingly good turn out?! So maybe not as irrelevant a ceremony as I thought? Because Dakota Fanning turned up looking like some divine mythical being again, Scarlett Johansson pulled another incredible look out the bag, Zoe Kravitz was a modernised Audrey Hepburn, and Kaitlyn Dever read my comments about her dress being “timelessly pretty” and said “bitch, you really thought” before showing up looking hot as fuck. Truth be told, I think the SAG awards were first but in this universe where Kaitlyn Dever would pay any attention to my opinion of her outfit do we really care? 

(L-R: America Ferrera, Andrew Scott in Azzaro Couture, Camila Mendes in Ralph and Russo, Caleb McLaughlin )

(L-R: Lupita Nyongo in Louis Vuitton, Lily Allen, Nathalie Emmanuel in Miu Miu, Cynthia Erivo in Schiaparelli)

See, I was going to make a comment above how I took back what I said about Camila Mendes not just going for pretty dresses (which I guess I just did here instead-JUST TO BE CLEAR SHE STILL LOOKS STUNNING) and then I uploaded the next photo set and got distracted by 2 things:

1. How weird it is that British legend Lily Allen, who does not get NEAR enough credit for her smart her songs were might I add, is dating David Harbour AKA. Hopper off Stranger Things!?

2. How mad I still am about Game of Thrones and how dirty the writers did Nathalie Emmanuel (and Emilia Clarke and Lena Heady and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau and basically everyone else on that show but that’s another story).

In this same universe where Kaitlyn Dever cares about my opinion can we make the issues I have in the last bullet point not exist? Please?

(L-R: Sophie Turner in Louis Vuitton, Renee Zellweger in Maison Margiela, Phoebe Waller-Bridge in Armani, and Renee Bargh)

(L-R: Gwendoline Christie in Rick Owens, Madeline Brewer in Monique Lhuillier, Kathryn Newton in Valentino, and Lili Reinhart in Miu Miu)

Finishing off the SAG looks, we’ve got the four above. 

Once again, Kathryn Newton was Valentino’s blushing crown jewell; Allie Pressman hate aside, she really is the perfect dressing up doll for the brand. Fresh faced and poised, she has all the elegance and gentle femininity necessary to make floating down the runway as Valentino models do look natural, and Lili Reinhart did an equally good job being a Miu Miu girl. She makes that idiosyncratic cutesy-ness work, all the frills and fragility of a china tea set look easy where I’d just look like I’d been consumed by a charity shop doily. Madeline Brewer did a good job too, helping a Monique Lhuillier design pop in a way that it doesn’t usually. When your hair is bright red and your dress cerulean blue, coral tinted lipstick is a *ahem* choice, buuut in this case it paid off because the result is a look which demanded my attention-ML dresses are reliably pretty, however, they tend to be predictable. Madeline and her styling did a good job subverting that formula. To end the section, though, I feel it’s only fair to save my fave woman til last-probably one of the few people in the world that isn’t a Rick Owens model that can pull off his designs. Ofc, I’m talking about the queen that is Gwendoline Christie. If we’re talking embodying brands, she did justice like nobody else could to the spectacle of Owens’ formidable, out-of-this-world aesthetic. This is her version of the princess moment, and when you’re as striking as she is, nothing less would do. 

At least my girl Brienne of Tarth is thriving<3

The Grammys

(L-R: Ariana Grande in Giambattista Valli, Cardi B in Mugler, and Pia Mia in Julien Macdonald)

TBH, like I said with the Brits, I never planned to do any music award ceremony red carpets, just because I feel like the fashion tends to be more geared towards a younger audience buuuut I’m kinda glad I changed because Ariana looks INCREDIBLE. MESMERISING. TRANSCENDENT. JFC. There’s a reason the photo of her on her Wiki page has been changed to one from this night and it’s because she looks absolutely exquisite, like some kind of moon goddess with an R&B touch which I suppose is kind of her brand? Sometimes I go kind of lukewarm on Giambattista Valli and forget how mystical but at the same time frothy and indulgent and all around luxurious the pieces can be. This is a cupcake of a dress and I want to eat it. Cardi B has become a bit of an unexpected fashion icon and Pia Mia looks as hot-party-girl as ever but I feel to put anyone next to Ariana in this dress seems harsh because she just completely stole the show and I don’t even know if she won any Grammys.

(L-R: Josephine Relli, Gwen Stefani, Jameela Jamil in Georges Chakra, and Chrissy Teigen in Yanina Couture)

Other than Ariana, I’m not gonna lie, there was nothing wildly exciting, BUT I did think there were some beautiful colours out on the runway-plus for all her occasionally bad takes I really like what Jameela Jamil stands for and her style has always been very quirky cool. The electric blue tiled effect with the black mesh underneath kinda reminds me of a peacock, and contrasts wonderfully with the carpet-it’s very reminiscent of her T4 days. She’s one of those people that seems to get aggression directed at her that’s completely disproportionate to whatever it is she’s supposed to have done; sometimes the way she goes about saying things is wrong but the intention behind what she’s saying is usually good. Then again, the internet still despises Chrissy Teigen (in a way that’s kind of excessive considering what we seem to collectively let some people get away with) for a dumb AirPods tweet and I’ve included her too. THIS IS NOT A POLITICAL STATEMENT, this time anyway. I just think she looks good!

If I’m going to get controversial about anything, it’ll be Gwen Stefani. She looks stunning, the dress is stunning, and the boots are stunning. The outfit is not my problem! My problem is how she seems not to have aged at all. This woman is 50 years old! That she drank the blood of her Harajuku girls is the only explanation here. Can you imagine if she tried to pull that shit today? She’d get rightly accused of being a culturally appropriating weeb in about 10 seconds flat and we’d have to pretend to stop liking Cool and Hollaback Girl. 

(L-R: Finneas O’Connell in Gucci, Lucky Daye, and Shaun Ross)

(L-R: Tess Holliday, Dua Lipa in Alexander Wang, Tyler the Creator, and Grace Elizabeth in Giuseppe di Morabito)

Back to what I’m supposed to be talking about in this blog post: the fashion. And here, most importantly, Tyler the Creator looking like a cast member of the Grand Budapest Hotel. IDK why. But I love this man.

(L-R: Lil Nas X in Versace, Lizzo in Versace, and Shawn Mendes in Louis Vuitton)

(L-R: Billie Porter, FKA Twigs in Ed Marler, and Swae Lee in Giuseppe Zanotti)

See in general, the men were a lot more interesting on the Grammys red carpet. With the exception of Twigs, Dua and obviously Ariana, the men’s outfits are a lot more memorable; Billie Porter became the most fashionable meme on the internet, for god’s sake. And even when their outfits weren’t extravagant, they were just more interesting, imo, which is a rare occurrence. I didn’t expect Finneas O’Connell to be the writing half of Billie Eilish (the other half being Billie herself) I cared about and yet, in that Gucci blazer, here we are. 

(L-R: Jessie J, Hailee Steinfeld, and Madison Beer)

(L-R: H.E.R, Usher, FKA Twigs, and Matt Shultz)

Of the afterparty looks, my favourites are what we can see of these more casual outfits-I love what F.K.A Twigs and H.E.R are wearing, the headscarf with the leatherjacket on top is in particular very throwback rockabilly, and I’m even into whatever it is Usher’s got on.

(L-R: Olivia O’Brien, Amine, and Alrissa)

(L-R: Salem Mitchell, Machine Gun Kelly, and Sydney Sweeney)

Now, how to round this all up!? How to relate the confusingly persistent but very welcome presence of Sydney Sweeney on, like, ALL these red carpets back to the MET!?

IDEK. It’s been a long year. 

The Met Gala has usually come and gone before we know it, but with everything going on, it’s been the longest January-May I think most of us have ever known. I keep going on about COVID-19 in all my posts now but I have almost forgotten how to write an intro and outro because the pandemic is pretty much consistently on the brain and unless I have something right in front of me to use as a distraction, my mind tends to wander off into a very anxious place. I think, like many others, I feel frustrated and disappointed and angry with the way the situation is being handled by the people who are supposed to protect their citizens, and by how much of a fight some are putting up against measures that are in place to try and save lives. The point of this ramble, I guess, is that whilst we should never forget what’s going on and do the best we can to help prevent the spread of the virus, it’s okay to still care about mundane shit. Was this post one big long distraction for me? Probably. But if there’s something harmless you can do to keep your anxiety at bay, don’t feel bad for doing it. Contrary to popular belief, you can care about more than one thing at once. You can be sad that something you were looking forward to has been cancelled whilst still being sad for the people who are suffering because they’ve lost love ones or who have been forced into precarious living conditions. If talking about clothes on the internet is going to help you get through this pandemic, power to you.

If anyone has read til the end, thank you! I hope you are well! As always, feel free to reply to the post or inbox me with your thoughts! It doesn’t even have to be related to this post. If you’re struggling with everything going on, feel free to reach out too. I spend too much time on the internet anyway, lol! My plans are to finish my fashion week reviews and then I have a Lana Del Rey albums inspired lookbook which I pinched off the stans on Twitter (who I will of course credit when I write it!). For the time being, look after yourselves!

Lauren x

[popculturebuffet]

Hickman’s X-Men One Year In: Part 2: The Dawn of X

And we’re onto part 2. Since it took me a while to talk about Hickman’s Series outside of Giant-Size and the setup here, that’s in part one if your curious, I split this little retrospective into two parts, with this part here talking about the rest of the books. This isn’t to say they aren’t great, many of them are, it was just easier to do this as a two parter so with HIckman himself out of the way how did his hand picked batch of talented writers handle the lofty status quo he set up?Find out under the cut. Pax Krakoa baby. 

Mauraders Okay just to get this out of the way this is my second faviorite x-book running, after X-Men itself and it often equals it and far and away the best tile of the run and restored my faith in Gerry Duggan.  Duggan is not a bad writer and I blame the messy finish of his otherwise awesome guardians run with infnity wars on marvel trying to cram other characters into it and then a weird mash up idea that while cool, kept the guardians out of their own damn event and from confrting a now mad gamora, but that and deadpool made me forget the guy is a good writer and can do great things. Maruaders however won me back to him with intrest.  A unique concept, the x-men as pirates helping ferry goods to krakoan allied states and ferry trapped mutants from hostile ones, is fucking awesome. The only thing missing is nightcrawler and it’s clear hickman has other plans, though I still feel he shoudl’ve been on the boat as he has both the relation to kitty pryde and pirate pedgree that fit in perfectly.  Speaking of kitty after years of writers misusing her due to having a crush on her as a kid and shoving her into half baked romances with peter quill and her ex peter rasptuin, the latter failing so badly that marvel pulled the plug on their wedding because fans clearly didn’t want it, and battling my own reluctance ot see her front and center again, Duggan makes good use of her again: Kitty is given the unique hook of the portals not working for her and no one, even her old friend Doug after he gets back, being able to figure out WHY. Though I do hope Doug does show up here and explain it more, as him being kitty’s best friend once is rarely brought up since he got back and it’s silly it hasn’t been. But rather than take this on the chin Kitty strikes up a crew consisting of big sister Storm, first class graduate x-man, badass gay and kitty’s friend and ex iceman, bishop who reluctantly joins as her bishop more on that in a second and the best of them by a mile: Pyro. The original, finally brought back and given some intresting backstory: he was the first mutant brought back and felt good about it..t ill he realized that despite sacrificing himself to save a, if your familiar with the various cartoons this will be baffling but trust me, reformed senator kelly as Pyro himself was dying from the legacy virus, only to find out they did him first because they considered him expendable basically and naturally was upset over that, drunk a bunch of the liquor kitty smuggled in, for logan naturally, and passed out and then joined in on the rescue mission that formed the team because why not and stayed because it was a great offer.  Speaking of offers with a new purpose, Kitty accepted her old enemy Emma Frost’s offer to be red queen, which includes a seat on krakoa’s council and was basically emma’s way of saying fuck you to her old cohort who she was forced to bring back on to handle the seedier side of Krakoa’s dealings via his underworld connections, sebastian shaw. Emma is the fincical  backbone of krakoa, having the shipping connections to get the flowers in and out and now having kitty to handle the stuff she can’t and do some of the shipping, as well as again tell Sebastian, who naturally wants both gone and is pissy at Emma being so far ahead of him, wants gone. And while he’s seemingly succeded with kitty I not only have every expectation that while ressuection is failing to work on her she’ll be back, but that trying to murder one of the most beloved x-men whose consdiered family to among others three of krakoa’s captains, bishop after this series, four of their council, five if you include Doug whose best friends with both his left arm which is also a deadly space robot and the very place they live on. The only reason he’s not going to die 80 times in increasingily horrifying ways is because the five can’t take on that kind of workload and one murderous ass beating from half of krakoa and krakoa itself is close enough. 

Emma is easily one of the books best parts, being written back as she should: An anti hero who while quick with a cutting quip, truly cares for her charges, and mutantkind as a whole and has grown from the monster she started as or even the kind of person who’d use a therapy session from a desperate man having issues opening up emotionally after apocalypse used his body as a rental car to convince him to fuck her.  And yes that’s how things started with Scott and Emma and yes it’s really fucked up and yes the story treats it as such, though I still wish Scott would get actual therapy, but as Linkara recently pointed out in his House of M Review the Marvel and DC universes weirdly lack therapists for the most part and thus it was left on my mind the last two weeks.. and yes I know DC tried but when your final product at trying to serious tackle mental health is heroes in crisis.. I award you no points and god have mercy on your soul.  But while Emma and Kitty get the lions share of the focus the rest of the group is enjoyable, well done and intresting, if not given many arcs to themselves, but still have enough character moments to counterballance that. The standout of the rest of the crew is easily Pyro, taken from “why is he still dead despite being super popular and used in a heavy role in X2 that’s garnered fans of that version to this day and bafflement he became a foot note in the next movie and used in every adaptation” to fun side character with a skull on his face and a love of booze and setting things on fire. He’s finally given the respect he deserves sorta and while I hope more is delved into his ressurection angst, he’s a ton of fun and it again makes me wonder why it took 20+ years to bring him back, but i’m glad the right person did it. The rest of the crew are fun with Bishop being another standout.  That being said part of the reason there isn’t a lot of focus is simply because in additoin to our brave crew the book is juggling a LOT of characters.. the morlocks and calisto, both given a proper treatment after wya too long, jumbo carnation a minor character from morrisons run who was introduced in the same issue he died is emma’s designer, shinobi shaw and christian frost, the latter I question why a main relative of one of marvel’s a-list mutants who was one of marvel’s earlier gay characters hasn’t been used in a big way till now but no time like the present, Sebastian and the people he shares his big bad spot with Homines Verde aka those tweens who ran the hellfire club during jason aaron’s run because the man is nuts and who I only seemd to liked, brillinatly revamped as a racist replacemnt for the hellfire club and so far a clever threat. The book is just stuffed iwth good characters, beautiful art, and a great tone that combines spectacular humor with really good story and worldbuilding. It’s also a nice contrast to hickman’s stuff: don’t get me wrong I love hickman’s writing style but it’s nice to have something JUST as good.. but with a cheerier tone and less weariness to it, while still not lacking weight. I can’t wait to see where this goes.. it’s a pirates life for me. 

Excalibur:  Like most of the dawn of X-Line outside of fallen angels, more on that in a minute and even then that had an intresting new directoin for betsy braddock, I was pumped for this one. A team I loved: While I struggled to find a run I loved with Claremont’s run having Brian Braddock be a raging dick whose terrible to his girlfriend and gets away with cheating on her and Claremont not really bothering to explain Saturnyne or other characters and their history with Brian well to us yanks who never had the chance to read those tales.. though why stories by alan moore and chris claremont haven’t been republished properly or in epic collections is beyond me. Warren Ellis, who I now loathe for being a scheming weasel who treated women like garbage, had a decent run with plenty of warlock, in a weird phase where he thought he was doug, Moira and Wolfsbane stuff I loved.. but also had 30-40 something pete wisdom shacking up with 18 year old at most kitty pryde, with Pete at the time being basically Warren Ellis badass self insert character, and given recent revelations i’m pretty sure he damn well knew kitty was just 18 and even if he didn’t having his own fanfic character deflower her is just all kinds of EWWWWWW. He also had Colossus, fresh of being a villian for a while for understandable reasons, nearly beat pete into a coma in a jealous rage over the ex.. the ex he dated while she was still a minor, and left because HE , and editorial, was uncomfortable with it for damn obvious reasons. I can see why fans like to see her as bisexual and pair her with Illiayna.. I mean why the fuck not? They have better chemistry than most of he hetrosexual intrests and are paried because of that and not because the writer wanted to make out iwth kitty as a teenager and forgot “oh yeah she’s fictional and i’m 40!”  Christ thank god for Gerry Duggan.  But yeah moving on from that I was still pumped as a magical x-men book with Besty Braddock now captain freaking britan, and apocalypse on the roster. And rictor and jubille? nad rouge and gambit I guess.. I don’t knokw if they fit but whatever. Sign me up. The actual result is a mixed back. I do like Tini Howard’s work here to a point: Betsy gets good character stuff and theres actually good tension from the fact that the new captain britan is no longer primarily a british ctizen, and the book brought back a character I felt marvel needed to do more with: Jamie. if you don’t know, Jamie is betsy and brian’s, her brother and the former captain britian, older brother who went insane due to his powers and thus just goes around in his underwear convinced reality isn’t real and he can do what he wants and the tension with Jamie refusing to have anything to do with his brother for no good reason is really good. Rictor and Apocalypse are likewise good sensable additons: Rictor turns out to be a natural to being a druid which is a nice twist and makes sense given when he lost his powers the biggest issue with that was loosing touch with earth after having a connection to it be a vital part of him for years. Apocalypse as an ominus chess master slowly securing magic for mutantkind with some goal we’re about to get answers to is really investing and adds a layer to his character, that much like doctor doom he’s as much sorecer as he is scinetest and given the guy’s immortal, it dosen’t feel like it was pulled out of nowhere.  The problem is the other half of the cast.. dosen’t really work. I fucking love Jubilee, a faviroite of mine as an xman despite not being a huge 90′s x-men cartoon fan, just feels kinda shoe horned in. Her son becomes a dragon and she worries about him constantly, but her worrying about her son possibly not being a mutant on mutant land could be done in any other x-book, and fraknly I feel her personality would fit better with the maruaders, and it’d be intresting to see kitty and her on the same team since both really haven’t interacted. Here she just feels like “well tini wanted jubilee and no one else did soooo I made her son a dragon to justify getting her”. I feel more could be done and hope Tini has better plans for her. Rouge is one of my faviorte x-men and All New X Factor and Kelly Thompsons work with him and Rouge made me like Gambit again, and I DO love their marriage and it was a way better idea than the one Guggenhiem had planned.. but while the idea of Rouge being reborn is intresting and all, she still dosen’t really get to do much and like Jubilee just feels weirldy out of place while Remy has that plus he’s annoying, as while he’s the only one rightfully supscious of apocalypse he also won’t shut the fuck up about it for five minutes. Ig et where he’s coming from  but it dosen’t make him less annoying. These aren’t bad characters, but sof ar they just feel weirdly out of place in a magic based book and unlike Rictor tini hasn’t made any of htem but Rouge feel in place. 

That being said I could ignore that more.. but the villians are also week. So far at least, as the return of Satyurne has given the book it’s first good antagonist.. but what I feel drags the book down the most from it’s potential is the bad guys; Morgan Le Fay is the first antaognist, being mad at apocalypse’s intrusions and corrputing Brian.. but her motives are just so boring: She wants power and to rule, she hates mutants... while “hates mutants” is a qualifier for every other antagonist so far, she just feels bland.. Tini just dosen’t make her feel like a good antagonist and it’s a shame as mutant hater or not she’s something DIFFRENT from the throngs of mutant hating conspiracies, mostly from russia in the other books... she’s just so bland it dosen’t work. And after her is Cullen Bloodstone who as far as I can tell is written out of character.. haven’t read his book but I had both a friend confirm it and having read his marvel wiki entry, it just seems like an odd turn to have him be a racist asshole. But even with all my problems and underwhelm here.. I still WANT the book to get from okay to amazing, and feel it genuinely has the potetial. I’ve seen books sharply improve after a rough first arc, Duggan himself showed me that with his Guardians run. Sometimes it just takes time for something to truly blossom and I have a feeling even with my issues, with x of swords coming up howard’s going to flip it all on it’s head and leave me standing there gasping like a moron. I have hope for that. And if nothing else the book is at least UNIQUE. And not in a trainwreck way: by giving mutants a piece of the magic pie and having them tackle far weirder threats, it’s at least doing something new and it probably lands for other people if not me, and if nothing else it does brian 80 times better than the claremont run did. not a high bar but I do like the character and it’s nice to see him take such an intresting path, and the same goes for Betsy. Tini’s still got magic to do, and I have a feeling it’s going to take me by storm very soon. 

Fallen Angels: Now for the other half of the coin as it were. Some fans weren’t happy about Betsy getting her old body back, and yes Psylocke wasn’t orignally asian but a white british woman bodyswapped iwth a japanese assasian and yes that’s as ludicrious and unteitonally offensive as it sounds, because horrible implications of said Body Swap or not, Psylocke was one of the few asian superheros of note. So to compromise , Hickman and co decided to split the diffrence: Betsy would come back and get a rank up to captain britan, while Kwannon, said assasian, would take over as Psylocke. Hence Excalibur above and fallen angels here and I was excited about it. The Body Swap thing went on a decade too long and this way fans got the character they knew as Psylocke in another book while the face they recognized would finally get some fleshing out. I was excited about that and while probably the least excited about this book of the intitial 5, it did have an intresting lead, two characters I did like (Kid Cable I grant was only under hickman who turned him from that brat version of cable who killed the one I really love to a good character in his own right), and an intresting antagonist in a sentient machine.  In practice it was okay. The best I can say is that writer Brian Hill DOES do a great job taking a mostly minor x-character and really fleshing her out and making her engaging and Kwannon’s quest to save her daughter is really compelling.. but the premise of those who don’t fit with krakoa dosen’t work with the roster given. Laura Kinney is not only sticking with the x-23 name after dropping the wolverine mantle for no reason previously, something Hickman fixed as soon as he realized how fans felt for her apperance in the main book, while Cable feels nothing like the far more fun version from Hickman’s X-Men and later Duggan’s Cable. Add in Husk and Bling who do deserve to be on a team but feel out of place here, and it just.. is okay. The book has an intresting angagonist and a great lead, but just dosen’t work as a team book and would’ve been better off being JUST about kwannon herself, who is far and away the best part about the book and i’m glad she got fleshed out. Not TERRIBLE but nothing special and it’s a shame given the antagonist, whose name I can’t even remember at this point, is intresting and ties into mutantkind’s greatest enmies being man and machine accoridng to house and powers.. basically a decent concep twith a flawed execution. Maybe hill’ sbatman and hte outisders run is better. I need to get on that. That being said the premise and idea is so far being done well in Hellions which we’ll get to, even if I’m being cautious really getting into the book with Zeb Wells track record. But more on that in a bit. 

X-Force: Time to make noise, bad guys leave us no choice.. you know the rest. But yeah X-force. The concept here grabbed me, having X-Force rather than just be the black ops squad but be literal black ops for krakoa, was really great and fit the brave new world.. what worried me was the writer, Benjamin Percy. Now a lot of x-fans probably knew him from the much beloved “Wolverine: The Long Night” podcast, which i’ve heard is utterly fantastic as is it’s followup.. but I hadn’t heard it, and had only heard of Percy from DC comics where under his belt was an okay teen titans run and a not very good and politcally unsubtle green arrow book. And i’m not against politics in comics it just wasn’t done at all well there and the “oliver queen looses hif ourture due to a shadowy conspiracy thing” was already done better by jeff lemire. So yeah I was going to give this a chance but figured like those books it’d start strong and then peter out.  I. Was. Wronnnnggg. X-Force is easily one of the best of the dawn of x and uses said premise well. It started a bit roughly, mostly becasue the first arc idnd’t make clear x-force didn’t exist yet but was a great origin story: a squad of military commandos working for a shadowy consirtum who become x-force’s big bad, plunge onto Krakoa and massacre a bunch of mutantas and assinate charles xavier. He comes back, though it’s trickier for obvious reasons, but it’s clear from this, and from wolverine and kid omega’s sucessful investigation and finding domino, that this can’t go on and thus X-Forces is formed; The intellegence and black ops arm of Krakoa and the one arm of it’s goverment exempt from the ‘dont’ kill humans rule”. What followed was nearly a years worth of fast paced adventures with good character stuff: Wolverine is in his element, kid omega, while I had my doubts due to quinten being way overused , turned out to be a perfect choice basically being a more compitent teenage sterling archer, cocky and loving this but also really good at his job, while Domino gets a great arc dealing with her trauma over her mutalation and having some of her power stolen by the shadowy masked dickheads while Colossus deals with his trauma over what went down when he rescued some Russian mutants, with the book slowly building up new threats and towards a showdown with Russia, something that’s also been built up by conflicts in Wolverine and Mauraders, which again makes the world of x feel more like an actual world instead a bunch of comics in one cast herd.  Jean Grey is good for intellegence, though by now seems to have noped out as she couldn’t take the toll, it’s not for everyone and most notably after 5 or 6 years of being treated worse and worse and written worse and worse and becoming a bigger and bigger piece of shit Beast is FINALLY put in the right spot: his darker turns aren’t ignored but he’s back to being an actually intellegent hero as X-force’s director, still a bit greasy but now for good reason and without a god complex or some such bullshit and with a tiny bit of his humor back. Not much else to say really, X-Force is well paced, enjoyable and gritty, getting the spirit of the team at it’s best down right while doing something fresh with it. 

New Mutants (Ed Brisson) Last one, New Mutants is the odd duck of the dawn of x line in terms of how it was launched. Fallen Angels ended up being a mini series both due  to Hill being busy and it’s cast being needed elsewhere but will presmibly get a follow up later, but it’s not the ONLY mini series in the line with Fantastic four/x-men, the giant sized one shots and now Empyre: X-Men all debuting in wave 2. New Mutants however is the first book to change writers and said writer STARTED in the middle of hickman’s run, partly due to scheduling delays but even before that it was partly by design and those issues haven’t been collected yet, with hickman’s short run being collected first. So you have a run that builds off what Hickman started but with it’s own ideas that started insidei t and suprisingly it .. really works.  While I do think there are better books in the line Brisson’s new mutants is enjoyable, combining humor and character work. New Mutants focuses on the sextant, which was first brought up in hickman’s run, the series of habitats for younger mutants on krakoa that the new mutants look out for, and while the original new mutants are in space, Armor decides to try and bring some old friends in to join in paradise with the help of Glob Herman, that big pink guy with a visable skeleton and eyes, and Maxine and Manon, who in the tradition of layla miller were created for an event and not great htere but turned out amazing under the right writer.. who I think also wrote that event but whatever, a pair of empaths and telepaths who have trouble grasping the right ethics for using their powers.  The four go to get one of my faviorite x-men back: BEAK! I missed him even if he’s weirdly suddenly repowered. Beak and his wife Angel only haven’t joiend in with their kids because his dad’s sick, and things soon escalate when a bunch of criminals try holding them all hostage and it’s up to boom boom, bored since everyone left her alone, to save the day! After that we deal with Magik rangling them and the team’s new mission statment: not wanting ot mess up again like she did with beak, who did join them but not without loosing his dad and then his memory of his dad thanks to the twins misguided efforts, Armor still wants to try welcoming new mutants in with the vetrans help, and thus we have our puprose: focusing both on how these younger mutant 20 somethigns of various ages from early to late work together to make a better world nad help their own get back to this world. it’s intresting.. I’m not in love with it like mauraders or x-force, but it’s still pretty good and their first big foe so far, DoX, a blog that well.. doxes mutants that haven’t arrived yet, seems to be intresting. Not much to say just pretty good and and better at mixing comedy and character stuff, and getting the cast right. Ed Brisson had already proven himself on old man logan, but this cements him as one of the hottest new x-writers around and i’m glad he was given a book here. He’s also succeded in making me actually like Glob Herman so that’s a plus. 

Fantastic Four/X-Men The first title of wave 2 and easily one of the best, right up there with mauraders nad probably JUSST behind it and ONLY because i’ts a mini series, giving the X-Men their first real step into the rest of hte marvel universe. Sure the 4 had cameoed in the first issue and there’s been mentions of krakoa in other books and one off issues but mostly Krakoa really hadn’t impacted anything.. but that first issue also set things up with Scott’s conversation with Sue Richards

Yeah and in case those who haven’t been aware of what’s going on with the FF lately and either remember franklin as a 6-11 year old or wondered why the hell he was suddenly a teen when they read this crossover, it’s actually simple; At the end of secret wars the Richards family was put on a bus, also so marvel could shove the ff as a proper team out the door due to the whole fox rights thing, and when Dan Slott had brought them back.. and cleverly had more time pass for the richards than for the 616 proper, so he could age Franklin up to his late teens and Valeria up to her early ones, allowing the richards children to actually age since Franklin’s age always had to stay vauge due to marvel’s vage and wobbly time scale. This way they get both consitant ages and more agency.  But the return also came with a price as Franklin, who if you didn’t know is so powerful he can create whole universe and shape the sturcture of the universe, had his powers break saving his family, and thus since he came back, he’s onlyg got so much of them left in the tank before they run out entirely, and it’s been an issue for him in Slott’s run as he worries about being the normal human in a fantastic family and comes to a head here, though rather than Hickman himself, who as mentioned last time has a marvelous track record with the family or FF series writer dan slott Hickman choose a wild card for this, though had both Hickman and Slott’s permission to do whatever he wanted: Chip Zdarsky, a modern marvel for marvel who’d writtne the four in marvel two in one but for some reason didn’t get the main book and this book makes me hope whenever Dan Slott bows out he gets his turn and while this is his first x-men work, Zdarsky proves he’s just as good here as is in most of his work on Howard the Duck, Jughead and Star Lord.. a weird selection I know but all classics. 

With this power outage, Franklin is worried his dad is, at least subconciously, not really trying to help him and to make matters worse teh x-men show up to offer their help.. and Franklin his birthright. The arguments made by both sides are great and I will be covering the series in full soon but in a nutshell the four dont’ want to give up their son/nephew, Reed dosen’t trust Xavier and feels he wants to use his son’s powers while the x-men feel it’s franlin’s choice and he’s old enough to make it, he belongs with them and he’ll be safer there. It also works because Franklin understandably isn’t swayed by either as neither is reallyt alking to him more at him, especially his parents .. and only tries the gate when Kitty Pryde, the two  bonded back in the 80s and a young franklin stopped her from comitting suicide long story but really moving, is the only one to tell him it’s his choice. This dosen’t go quite well though since Reed Richards, father of the year, decided to make a device to mask his son’s mutant gene and no one, including his own family, is happy about htis.  Naturally Franklin, with Val’s help, runs away.. and then as if it couldn’t get worse DOOM shows up wanting to help so now it’s a three way dance between them for hte fate of franklin. The series has gorgeous art form the dodsons a really damn compelling story and great setup for further stories for both lines and feels like the best of both franchises. It’s the x-men’s first huge impact on the rest of the marvel universe,a nd it feels like it with the ending showing that and showing this might not be the last time both sides crossover. It’s everything you could want from a crossover and i’m only being so brief because I want to review it soon as a huge fan of both groups. Easily one of the best x-men stories of the line and one of the best stories for both groups period. 

Wolverine:  We’re onto the final two, and Percy’s second book and the first solo.. and it’s logan again! Makes sense though: Wolverine only just came back from the dead, and while both is daughter and alternate future self carried the woverline banner for him, the original hasn’t gotten his own ongoing in some time. And so far.. it’s pretty good> the first issues a bit messy due to it’s lenght, but overall the book is intresting and has Logan graple with being the best at waht he does and if he can be better or if he deserves paradise while also delivering a compelling solo mission teaming Wolverine up with a federal agent who resents mutants. it also does some good world building, explaning why Krakoan drugs have things like wait lists (they want to control production closely both to avoid having the flower taken away and for quality control), and expanding the russia subplot while using Dracula of all people as a major antagonist, which is clever especailly since this isn’t his first rodeo with the x-men. Just a fun book wiht loads of promise.

Hellions: NOt much to say here as it’s hard to judge after two issues, buti f nothing else this series brought back the delightfully batshit Nanny, who just with last weeks issue offered to nurse Greycrow (who had his name changed from scalphunter because of course marvel did why wouldn’t they) and falling down. It combines humor with an odd but well thought out cast and makes Alex Summers intresting without making everyone else assholes, a hard but earned feet. If it continues to be good.. I dunno, especially since i haven’t been impressed by any of zeb wells other works especially his new mutants run, good god that one’s am ess, but so far he’s winning me over with a clever concept and roster full of deep cuts.  Final Thoughts:  I won’t be covering Empyre: X_men, though I did enjoy it and i’l save that one for next time. For now this has been a hell of a year of x-men comics, with even the weaker books still having something intresting and none being outright terribule and only one had a bad grasp on some of it’s cast and for a line this big and expansive, that’s a gold medal achivment. After YEARS of stasis the x-men have finally risen again better, bolder and stranger than ever. IS every book A+ gold star etc etc, no, but what’s important.. is that it’s all DECENT. There’s enough standout books to make it work but as i’ve made clear what isn’t the best of the best is still good or decent. There’s nothing bad, no one phoning it in or not giving an effort, everyone is trying thier hardest and succeding on SOME level even if not completely and that.. that’s truly amazing and I look forward to more of it as this line continues. Pax Krakoa and hopefully i’ll see you again. 

[marchioness-caprina]

*:..｡o○Ruishiro Takizaku○o｡..:*

Basic : Ruishiro Takizaku a 18 Year Old Hero Apprentice who Works under the Under Hound Agency. He has a height of 6'2 with a lean and muscular build, He Prefers to Be Called Rui instead of His First Name. His Hero Name is ' Morphicus '

Appearance : He Is a Rather intimidating Young Man; if his Height and Build isn't enough to scare people then The Sharp and seemingly permanent glare he'd usually show would do the trick. He has a pair of Transparent eyes which reflects the Purest Color of an Amethyst, Short Ashy Blue Hair that's usually Styled in a Messy and Lazy Manner. He has Ear Piercings on both ears and his Fingers are filled with stainless steel Rings. His usual attire consist of a Black Button Up shirt, Black Jeans and a High Collared Jacket and finally Heavy Combat Boots. His Expressions are Rather complex but the most prominent Expression he wears is the usual Death Glare that never seems to disappear or the infamous ' Stone cold Bitch Face '

Personality : Though He may Seem Cold and Distant at First especially with his Intimidating Expression; You Better hope it stays That way because he is actually an Asshole at Heart. He's Sarcastic, Brutal and Cruel with his Words and He wouldn't even care what that person's Status is may it be a president, the no. Hero, a Family Member or His Lover, It wouldn't matter. This Trait of His Gets Him into a Lot of Unnatural Trouble since it's his Nature to be argumentative and Hostile and he seems to have a hidden world of Remarks to match his Wits. But during One of the Very Rare moments where his Asshole meter has reduced half way he is actually very Sweet but has an odd way of showing it. He lives for the chase and it's one of it. Generally he is like any human being, Complex. But if the situation calls for it he is polite and respectful to those People he hasn't formed a solid opinion for yet. If you want annoying then go To Rui; He Tests People's wits and Irritates them unconsciously just to see where their True Feelings Lies; He has a big brain so his analytical skills is beyond average, he is observant and knows How to Manipulate a situation that's being laid in front of him. So being an actor, lying and charming his way in is not a big deal.

Quirk : Umbra Morphology; The Ability To Morph into Something Inhumane By the use of Darkness or Any objects that Holds the Color 'Black'. When the Ability is used; Black Sticky Viscous Substance will crawl onto the User's Chosen Body Part for Transformation and slowly Consume that Body Part while Forming the desired form of the User. But the color stays on and unchangeable.

How it was acquired/ Small backstory: in the First Place He was deemed Useless by Society and was lesser than Trash Meaning; He was Quirkless. His Family was surprisingly accepting of his current state but He Himself did not Like how low he had stood with the constant Mockery of those people who had quirks. He wanted to acquire his own Quirk. He wanted to acquire Power for Himself and Show everyone that he was worth something and because of this selfish desire of His He began to search desperately; He searched up the Black web and Looked for any possible ways to acquire power without Having a Quirk. Sure there were sites that offered to use his body as a Lab Rat but that may possibly get him killed. So he kept searching and searching until he stumbled onto a site that offered a Mystery Box. It was Cheap; Too cheap that it was suspicious but he was curious. He wanted to know what was inside, could it be a gadget that could grant him Power? Could it be body parts instead? Whatever it is ; something urged him to buy it. And that's where he slowly began to ruin his own Life.

Fast Forward to a Few Days; The package arrived and to his utter Disappointment it was a price of Paper in a Box. He paid for something like this. A paper.... No a contract, a Black eerie paper that had letters written with white ink. He later decided that the Site he bought it from was a scam because when he searched it up again; There was nothing. He didn't bother reading the paper at all. And one night when he was answering his Assignments, his eyes drifted towards the black paper on his desk and when he took a closer look the words were not in the language that he spoke of. It was an ancient language; that's all he could confirm but judging by the output it really was a contract . So thinking that it would be fun he signed the contract and that's where things began to get scary ( I'll skip the other stuff)

He Later found out that The contract he signed was a Contract to be a Vessel of The Demon Of Darkness Umbrachus, A demon that had forced Rui To Accept it in his Body now his Body isn't his own. Sure Rui was happy to know that he had a 'quirk' now but later when he found out what price he needed to pay was the cause of his mass destruction. He had plunged himself on his own demise. The Demon craved the Flesh of and Blood of Humans and it forced Rui to eat Raw Flesh. Umbrachus was a demon associated with Wrath, Pride and Greed so if any of those emotions are triggered by Rui then there's a high chance of Umbrachus Gaining Control of his body. The Demon was Toying with Rui; Umbrachus Started Manipulating Rui's surroundings and giving him Hallucinations. Rui feard sleeping because Umbrachus could gain Control over his body whole he was passed out. And Finally Rui had enough when Umbrachus had nearly Killed His Younger sister due to Hunger; With the incident taking Place Rui Fled. He Fled and Lived in the streets, He fought the demon with all his might and when he was at his wits that's where Hellhound appeared to his rescue. Hell Hound runs a Hero Agency called Under Hound. And this Agency isn't just associate with heroes. They are also Masters of the Occult so Hell Hound who was in a similar situation as Rui took Pity on the Boy and Took him to His Agency where Rui was Given Proper Training to Control the Demon. And soon Rui was given a chance to become a Hero; not a Hero for the public or media but a Hero of The Night. A Hero Who Kills Villains not arrest them.

Trivia Facts

* He Has a Very Bad Sweet tooth And is a Fan of Spicy Food.

* He Was Given a Choice to change his name but he Kept it That way because he Thinks Being called Rui is Cool

* Has a Soft Spot For Dogs

* After Umbrachus Forcefully shared his Body he lost the ability to use Chopsticks and whenever he tries to use them he gets frustrated since it always slips.

* He may Not Look it But he is actually a Big Fan of Sappy Love stories but after Umbrachus entered his Body he started liking Hard Core Gore.

* He used to be Slender and Lanky but Having a Demon inside him had it's Perks.

* He prefers Convenience Store Food Over 5 star Meals.

* He is Bisexual

* He May Have Sadistic Tendencies . He blames it on Umbrachus but Umbrachus spoke otherwise.

* He's an Asshole But He respects Independent women; He was raised by only his Mother being present so he was Disciplined strictly .

* It is mentioned that he is a Fan of Sappy Love stories so surprisingly he is actually very romantic and loving if he ever finds a Lover.

* He is a Master of Lying but He prefers the Truth over lies since he is used to Saying unfiltered insults Opinions.

* A Seafood addict

* He may or May Not be Into Witchcraft

* Can speak Fluent Bullshit

* He can Form Umbra Claws, or even sink himself into the darkness to come deal his presence so he is mostly sent on stealth missions because of this advantage.

* Babies Creep Him out. Don't Ask. It just Does.

* He can't smile for shit and when he tries it comes out as a mocking smirk or a sadistic grin.

* Has Perfect control. Over his Facial expressions but tends to keep it Monotoned and Bitch-Like.

* An actual Dork and Goes to Animal Cafe

* a Fan of Musicals Especially Phant of the Opera.

* Surprisingly has Good Singing Voice

* If he's not pissing anyone off then he's flirting with someone without noticing it.

* Can Cook a whole feast but eats Cup noodles instead.

* Owns 2 large bookshelves filled with Books he never reads. Or even has the patience to read one.

* Has a Dog Named Cat.

* He claims to be allergic to the cold so his clothes are mostly sweaters, jackets, hoodies, anything thats warm. Even if it's in the middle of the summer with everyone sweating bullets you'll see him walking around casually with heavy clothes on.

* He has a mild Disdain for overconfident brats with flashy Quirks.

* Shameless with his Opinions

* Likes Blueberries

* Fast Food is his Only Food.

Note: I don't Exactly Have a Drawn Picture of Him since I'm still Contemplating a Few Details but I did make a Rough Appearance Idea of Him in Picrew. This Picture is Not Mine To own I'm just showing you guys what he'd Mostly Look Like. The art belongs to a Talented Artists with a Bright Future ahead. If you know them. Then give them my regards and Thanks ^^ . I Repeat This is Just an Example ^^ the Picture is NOT mine.

Extra Note : If You Have a Few Questiona for him then Don't Hesitate to Mention Him in your Ask ^^ . You are Free to Interact with him.

[universalfanfic]

Just a retaliation for @inkoutsidethelines and the werewolf/vampire college au  ( @whindsor Thank you for the excuse/explanation!) Mary doesn’t get the coffee she needs and comes to a horrid realization. :)

About three things Mary was absolutely positive. First, that college, and morning classes, were garbage and not worth the effort they required to stay awake. Second, that Intro to Art History was not the easy A it was supposed to be. And third, that Owen Rogers consistently and religiously brought a travel mug of coffee with him to class. 

Mary eyed Owen as she stumbled to her seat. It had become routine that they sit next to each other after he’d agreed to tutor her in the class. His lips quirked as he watched her sit with a grunt and drop her bag next to her.

She was in her usual sweats and hoodie, her hair tied in a sloppy pony and he.... He was pulled together like always. Actual jeans on despite it being eight o’clock and a clean sweater that he’d probably ironed. His notepad and a pencil were placed neatly in front of him as well as his faithful mug. 

“Good morning,” he said. His voice was always so pleasant, so smooth. She liked it and hated it. No one should sound so nice so early. 

Ugh. She needed caffeine. 

“Morning.” She mumbled. 

“Did you finish the reading?” 

Mary pulled out her laptop and set it down, tapping the keys to wake it up. If only she could wake up so easily. 

“Mostly.” She said, evasively. 

Owen canted his head and pulled his lips to the side in a look of admonishment. 

“Vincent is one of the more interesting painters,” he argued. “He was actually quite interesting himself. Very hopeful, despite his melancholy.” He made a face. “A better man than, say, someone like Picasso or Pollock.” 

Mary rolled her eyes. 

“You’re on a first name basis with Van Gogh?” Mary teased. “You guys have an art club together or something?”

“Maybe once or twice.” 

Owen gave her a cheeky smile and Mary snorted. 

Class went on as usual. Mary tried to keep up and understand all the seemingly trivial differences between so many art styles and their influence on culture and blah, blah, blah. But it just wasn’t something she could see herself using in “real life” and therefore it made it all the more hard to invest in. 

She could already feel her eyelids flutter as they threatened to shut. There was a campus coffee shop just passed the art building. She shouldn’t have hit snooze so many times, then maybe she’d have had enough time to get something. 

Her gaze drifted back over to Owen’s travel mug. He’d only taken a couple sips from it here and there so far, and he didn’t even look like he really needed it. Mary sat up straighter. 

They knew each other well enough now for him not to be bothered by her stealing a sip, right? He, at least, seemed like he enjoyed her teasing and antics. 

The internal debate only lasted a few seconds. She would crash if she didn’t get something to get her neurons firing, so she reached over and grabbed his mug as Owen eyed one of the professor’s slides with doubt. 

“You mind?”

Owen broke his gaze, but Mary already had the mug to her lips. She took a quick gulp and the horror that flashed across Owen’s face was only rivaled by the curdling of her stomach. 

Mary spit out of reflex. She’d swallowed most of whatever was in his cup already, but drops of red splattered over her keyboard and part of his notebook. 

Copper and iron stung her tongue and Mary gagged. 

“Mary.” Owen’s hushed voice whispered, fear laced his tone. “It’s not what you-”

She bolted from the room. A few heads turned to watch, but her running from the room wouldn’t be the strangest thing anyone had ever seen in class. 

Mary dove into the nearest women’s restroom and threw herself over the nearest sink. She dry heaved again, but she hadn’t eaten breakfast and there was nothing for her to throw up. Just spit dyed pink by- by-

Blood.

It was blood. She’d swallowed a mouthful of blood. The realization made her feel all the more nauseous. 

Mary ran the tap and desperately tried to rinse out her mouth, swishing the water out and spitting again and again. Until there was only clean water. 

The bathroom door opened and she snapped her head to the side to look. Owen stood with their bags in one hand and the other hand held up in defense or pleading. Mary took a step back. 

“Stay away from me,” she said. 

Owen winced. 

“Mary, I swear it isn’t-” 

“Blood?” She snapped. “You’re going to try and tell me that wasn’t blood in your coffee mug?”  

He swallowed, but didn’t respond and Mary felt fear creep up her spine. 

Oh. Oh no. 

Quiet and polite. Into the arts and well dressed. A seeming gentleman who just so happened to have a mug of blood on his desk most days, as far as she knew. 

Owen Rogers was a serial killer. “It’s- it’s cow blood.” He tried to defend. “I studied abroad one summer and it’s actually a delicacy in-” “Bull!” Mary interrupted.  Owen gave a hesitant shrug.  “I mean, it could have been a bull-”  “This isn’t a joke! Put my stuff down and get out of here.”  She reached for her pockets, but her phone was still in her bag. Her bag which was currently being held by Owen.  Owen stilled and his expression went stoic, which scared her more than anything else so far. The hair rose on the back of her neck and she shifted, positioning her feet into a defensive stance.  “Mary, you can’t tell anyone. Please.”  “Move, Owen.”  His jaw ticked and he looked away.  “Promise me you’ll keep this to yourself.” He said. “I swear you never have to talk to me again, but you can’t call and tell anyone about this.”  She could lie. It would be easy and necessary, if he were actually a killer, and she was going to. But she’d already hesitated too long, if the look on his face meant anything.  “Mary.”  “I’ll scream if you don’t leave. I swear I will.”  They were at a stalemate. Neither of them moved and Mary felt the adrenaline build and build. She flexed her fingers out and shifted her feet again. As far as she knew, Owen wasn’t particularly athletic, and she’d never gotten anywhere in life by waiting.  Mary punched him. No hesitation, no telegraphing. It was a snapping movement, and Owen’s head jerked back as she made contact. But he wouldn’t have time to react, because she immediately followed the punch with a kick to his knee. He stumbled backwards and Mary lunged for the door.  She managed to pull it open a few inches before it was forcefully slammed closed again. Owen loomed over her, his hand on the door and his face far, far too close. And far, far too flawless for the hit she’d landed on him.  “Mary,” he said again. His voice low and controlled. “We need to talk. I can explain.”  She was going to die.  

[cherry-valentine]

Spring 2020 Anime:

Kami no Tou is one of my favorites this season. It’s unique in that it’s based on a Korean web comic rather than a Japanese manga or light novel. This gives it a different feel than most anime. The series centers on a massive tower that, when climbed, will grant a wish. Only the strongest warriors can hope to climb the tower, and even attempting it requires passing several grueling tests. The protagonist, Bam, initially enters the tower to find his friend Rachel, but ends up joining a team of three to climb the tower together. For the majority of the first episode’s runtime, I wasn’t really into this series and was pretty sure I wouldn’t watch anymore. It had a pretty vague opening that left me underwhelmed. But just before the episode ends, we get a really awesome sequence that sets the tone for the rest of the series, and I was hooked. The tests to climb the tower are surprisingly brutal, with frequent deaths until the cast is whittled down to the main players. The core group of characters is made up of a refreshing variety, with plenty of badass ladies. The main team of three are all likable. I honestly thought I wouldn’t like the lizard-like Rak very much, but he grew on me very quickly. The art is great, rarely going off model. The animation quality is pretty good and the design work is fantastic. The opening and ending themes are among my favorites this season. Probably my favorite new series of the season.

Kakushigoto covers several types of series all in one. It’s a comedy at its core, with a focus on quick skits and gags. It’s also adorable and heartwarming, following a single father named Goto raising his young daughter, Hime. The hook of the series, and the source of most of the comedy, is that Goto is a manga artist who draws “ecchi” manga (when I first read the description, I had something else in mind, but it turns out he just makes silly, slightly perverted gag manga) and he’s desperate to hide this fact from his daughter, so he pretends he’s a regular “salary man”. His interactions with Hime are so sweet and wholesome, it really makes you just sigh and say, “Awww!” However, the series also covers another type of anime: the tearjerker. The scenes talking about Goto’s dead wife are almost hard to watch, as it’s very clear that losing her was incredibly painful for him, but he had to move on quickly for his daughter’s sake. There are little things, like the fact that the wife apparently prepared boxes for Hime to open at every age containing things she thought Hime might need or want at each age (and it looks like she prepared boxes for Goto as well!), that make it hard to stay dry-eyed while watching. There are also scenes taking place several years later, involving a teenage Hime, that imply some extremely heartbreaking things I’d rather not think about. Basically, any given episode will have you gushing over the cuteness, then laughing hysterically, then crying and batting away some dark and depressing thoughts. The art has a very unique style. To be honest I’m not entirely sure if I like it or not. The colors and backgrounds are lovely, but some of the character designs are a little... odd. In particular, Hime is probably the least cute “young daughter” type character I’ve seen in anime. Something about the way her face is drawn is just... off. Oh well, might be good for warding off the gross perverts who might be watching the show for all the wrong reasons (it’s anime, so I suspect the worst). The music is perfect, with the best ending theme of the season (seriously go watch it, right now! It’s a true visual delight with an amazing song to go with it). Highly recommended unless you have no soul.

Kaguya-sama Love is War Season 2 was something I was looking forward to very much. I enjoyed season one way more than I expected to, and so far season two is just as good. The series follows two highly intelligent but extremely awkward students at a fancy private school who are in love with each other but each is trying to force the other to confess their feelings first. It’s a genuinely funny comedy that also captures the feeling of being in love with someone but being too shy (or too prideful) to tell them. Season two introduces a couple of new characters who, in my opinion, aren’t super interesting but thankfully aren’t around enough to wear out their welcome. This is one of those shows where no actual progress can ever be made, because if these two characters actually get together, the entire premise of the show falls apart and there’s no reason for it to keep going. Despite that, the show continues to be funny and entertaining, and it’s consistently well done, from the art to the writing to the music.

My Life as a Villainess is one of the quirkier “isekai” series out there. It follows a modern teenage girl who suddenly dies and is reborn in the world of her favorite otome game. The catch is that, instead of being born as the lovely heroine that all the guys fall in love with, she’s born as the villain, Catarina, who makes life hell for the heroine and, in every route in the game, ends up either dead or exiled. Upon realizing this, Catarina decides to do everything in her power to avoid these potential fates. This mostly amounts to her being nice to everyone (especially the game’s heroine, whom she meets in this world’s equivalent of high school) and trying to improve both her magic power and her fighting skills so she can defend herself, as well as learning to grow food in a garden so she can feed herself after being exiled. The show’s true (and obvious) twist is that everyone (regardless of gender) ends up falling in love with Catarina. It’s actually a pretty nice message, that people won’t automatically love you, but if you work on improving yourself and be genuinely kind to others, people will gravitate to you. The series is actually really funny and overall light-hearted. It’s particularly amusing if you’ve ever played an otome game and are familiar with the tropes. The art is nice, if a little generic, and the music is fine. Not my favorite this season but certainly worth a watch, especially since the season grew a bit dry a few weeks in.

Major 2nd Season 2 is a baseball anime sequel to the series Major, which I really want to watch (but is clearly not required for enjoying this one). In the second season, protagonist Daigo (the son of the previous series’ protagonist) is now a second year in middle school, and is the captain of the team after most of the third years quit. Almost all of his team mates from the first season have split up and gone to other schools, but Sakura, one of the few girl players, is still on his team. It’s interesting to me that the majority of Daigo’s team is made up of girls, to the point that other teams have a tendency to underestimate them. I didn’t even realize that in middle school, teams could be mixed like this. It’s actually refreshing, as the girls are very skilled (Daigo points out very early on that the girls follow the exact same training regimen as the boys). In fact, the girls in general are much more talented than the boys (Daigo himself even gives up his position as catcher to a first year girl who proves she has more skill than he does). It’s just really nice that these are good players, not “good for a girl”. Another fun aspect of the series is the fact that previous teammates from season one are popping up as opponents in season two. The animation is fine and the music is good. If you like baseball at all, this is the show for you. If you like sports anime in general, give it a shot. It doesn’t really have that “lots of hot guys who are super close with each other” vibe that most sports anime has, so keep that in mind. 

There were a few others I was watching that had to be put on hiatus due to the pandemic. Since I only watched three or four episodes of them, I’ll wait and do write-ups for them once they resume.

EDIT: Added Major 2nd Season 2 because it resumed airing.

Carry Over Shows From Previous Seasons: Black Clover (now on hiatus) Ahiru no Sora

Best of Season: Best New Show: Kami no Tou Best Opening Theme: Kami no Tou Best Ending Theme: Kakushigoto Best New Male Character: Goto (Kakushigoto) Best New Female Character: Catarina (My Life as a Villainess)

[dolphin-enthusiast]

Yoshikage Kira x Artist!Reader

A/N: Hello yes it is finally here my first ever Jojo fanfic and it’s about this nasty fucker fsksfjs enjoy!!

Based off of this ask

Warnings: major character death and Kira. He’s a warning himself.

~~~

You leaned back in your small chair, admiring your work from another distance. You tilted your head and shifted in your seat, trying to look at your sculpture from a different perspective. Extending the hand that was gripping the chisel tightly, you started taking various measurements. After finally being satisfied you nodded to yourself and went back to your work. All of your life you had been fascinated by sculptures and the world of art. You used to watch lots of documentaries as a child and you would often attempt carving little pieces of wood with a small knife. Your mother would be worried that you might end up hurting yourself, but little you just knew how to handle that knife the way it should be handled. One could say that you had a talent even, but that was far from the truth. In fact you just watched way too many documentaries and copied the ways in which the artists would move their tools. Seeing how passionate you were, at the age of nine your father bought you your first sculpting kit, as well as plenty of clay. Not many children are lucky enough to know exactly what they want to become, but you already had your plans. This is why you attended art school after you finished highschool and specialized yourself in sculpting. Now you were a successful artist, your work being recognized by many critics.

You continue working on your sculpture that resembled a lady with her palms open in front of her, a flower growing out of them. You always put accent on hands whenever you created another sculpture, the majority of your creations even being about them. You weren’t sure why, but you had always found hands enticing. There were so many shapes and sizes of them and you loved their movement and how gracious they can be. Honestly, you just loved human anatomy in general, often sketching various body parts in many positions in your spare time.

Funnily enough, you weren’t fond of your own hands at all. You always thought they looked weird and unappealing, crooked even. You did cherish them for always helping you carry out your artistic work, but that was really it. This is the reason why you almost always wore gloves, even when you weren’t out. You just couldn’t bear seeing your bare hands for too long, that annoying shape of theirs bugging you to no extent. This was a problem that you had since you were little and no words of encouragement or comfort from anyone soothed you, not even from your own parents.

Time passed as you kept working, hours flying by as if they were mere minutes. You decided that it was enough work for today after noticing that the sun was beginning to set. You got up and stretched your tired limbs and started walking towards the bathroom, desperately in need for a refreshing shower. You have to go to bed early tonight because tomorrow you are supposed to leave for Morioh, the location in which your next fan meeting will be held. You weren’t that much of a celebrity yet you still had your fair share of fame, hence why you had plenty of people attend those fan meetings. Your earlier work which consisted of sketches also gained you a fanbase. Speaking of people, one man stood out to you. He would often show up at your art exhibitions and thoroughly admire your hand sculptures. He had a rather strange aura around him and would often be immersed into the details of your works, his blonde locks falling in front of his eyes as he leaned closer to your pieces and scanned them. The man was awfully formal at all times as well. You’re pretty sure everytime you spotted him he would always be wearing a suit. You quickly dismissed your thoughts as you exited your bathroom and got into bed. You shifted a good while after you finally fell asleep, the expectation for tomorrow being too much.

The next day you took the plane early in the morning and by 12 pm you were already in Morioh. The hotel you were staying at was very nice and welcoming. You dropped all of your things in your room and already began getting ready for the first fan event. You were supposed to be staying here for three days, all because you just loved exploring new places and getting accustomed to the culture and people. You even heard there was a popular artist living here.

Almost one hour later you exit your hotel room and in no time you’re hurriedly walking down the lively street heading towards the location of your fan meeting. On your way you passed by many people but three certain individuals caught your attention. You were halfway there when you crossed paths with a group of teens. Two of them looked like actual delinquents, one boy even sporting a neatly styled pompadour. You thought they looked pretty neat honestly. However, the shortest boy in the group was the only one that recognized you and the reason why you initially came face to face with the gang. He seemed down to earth and nice, all shy as he asked you for an autograph. You could hear him excitedly tell his friends about you after they asked him as you parted ways with them, a small smile on your lips. Your smile only grew more when you heard one of them loudly say “Great! Now we officially met a celebrity!”

You finally reached your destination, a mall downtown. You managed to pass by unnoticed by the crowd that was already beginning to form in the small area that you had reserved. Rushing to your seat, you quickly grabbed a pen and noticed people already turning their attention to you. The staff had just arrived as the queue was already forming. Once they checked everything, they announced that the fan meeting may start.

Person after person went up in front of your table and talked to you. They praised your skills, they talked about how you inspired them. It was really overwhelming at some point when you had so many people confessing to you that your work helped them or inspired them, it almost made you feel special in a way. But you are a modest and humble person, so you know better than that.

As you were glancing around you suddenly make out a familiar face. At first you thought you were having visions, but turns out that wasn’t the case. You were in fact looking at the same blonde haired man that frequented your art exhibitions. And he seemed to notice that you were looking at him too because his eyes were fixed on you. You suddenly felt uneasy with the way he was watching you. It didn’t help at all that you couldn’t read his expression. You could feel the anxiety kicking in as you realized that there were three more people before it would be his turn to speak to you. You tried acting as normal as possible with them, trying to hide the fact that you were hella uneasy all of a sudden.

In no time the man was already in front of you and you were now forced to make eye contact with him. His gaze was piercing, icy blue orbs staring dead into your own ones. As always he was dressed sharply in a purple suit with a tie that had a rather intricate design, his hair loosely combed back with a few strands sticking out in the front. You’d say that he was pretty handsome if it weren’t for the fact that he was creeping the hell out of you and you couldn’t figure out exactly why.

“My name is Yoshikage Kira.” He suddenly spoke, the faintest of smiles appearing on his lips. You try to force a smile of your own. “I am a big fan of your work, as you can tell from the fact that I have been to each and every one of your art exhibitions. I’m pretty sure we’ve seen eachother before exactly because of that.” He continues as you take in his mini speech. So he did in fact show up everytime you would present the public with new creations. Maybe he was indeed just that big of a fan as he himself said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Kira. I’m thoroughly glad that you enjoy my work so much that you took the time and effort to show up at all of my art exhibitions.” You reply politely, being careful to choose your words wisely. The guy looked formal so you didn’t want to seem unpolite. Wait, why did you even care so much? You weren’t at a job interview.

He slowly nodded and extended his hand towards you, small smile still present on his lips. “Please, call me Yoshikage” He humbly said as you reached over the table and grasped his hand. As you shook hands with him you noticed his eyes flick downwards at your own hand. Even if it was for a mere second you did not fail to notice him eyeing your glove. There was certainly something off about this man and you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“I really meant everything I said. I love your work. Your hand sculptures are simply stunning. The way in which every detail is chiseled in and how attentive you are when it comes to sculpting the nails and fingers. I have to admit, I tried buying as many as I could.” He trailed off with admiration. You would be blushing right now if it weren’t for the fact that he was giving you stranger danger vibes.

You thanked him nicely for his kind words as you retracted your hand. Even if you still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off you still continued to talk to him. You didn’t even notice how much time passed until you looked behind him and saw the crowd getting rather impatient. Seems like the guy had some kind of a talent for immersing people into discussion to the point where you lose track of time. Kira seemed to notice this too since he turned around slightly and noticed the others staring rather angrily at him, to which he slightly scowled.

He turned back to you and started digging in his jacket’s inner pockets then pulled out a small piece of paper. “I’m terribly sorry for taking so much of your time. Before I go, would you please give me an autograph? I know it sounds silly, but I can’t let this opportunity pass.” He said with a grin while sliding the tiny paper in front of you, hope present in his eyes. You were slightly taken aback but scribbled your signature on the paper nonetheless. The moment you raised your pen he immediately snatched the paper and thanked you then finally left, but not before giving you one last glare over his shoulder. Well, that was truly a ride. Just as you were about to greet the next person you noticed another tiny piece of paper in front of you. Didn’t he already take it with him?

You hesitantly pick up the piece of paper and your worst fears come true. There was a phone number written on it. Quickly shoving the paper in your pocket, you decided that you’d deal with this later and just carry on with the fan meeting for now. You still had some people left to talk to and you didn’t want to make a bad impression.

After the fan meeting was finally over you immediately grabbed all of your stuff and rushed back to your hotel room. You plopped down onto your bed, realization finally downing upon you as you pulled out the crumbled paper from your pocket and unfolded it. Alright so you now officially have a strange guy indirectly asking you out in a rather unorthodox way. Ok cool that’s totally fine. To top it off he was also a fiery fan of your work. He did seem strange, almost intimidating in a way, but he didn’t say anything creepy or harmful towards you. Could it be your anxiety acting up again? Hell if you know. If you were being honest with yourself, he kinda intrigued you. Maybe it was his mysterious aura or the way in which he spoke all smooth and collected. Nonetheless, the fact that he literally left his phone number to you like that was a bit too straightforward, even weird.

You thought it over and decided that you’d call him tomorrow just to ask him whatever the hell was all of this. If anything, your curiosity always got you into trouble since you were little. They say curiosity killed the cat but you just couldn’t physically stop yourself to investigate further anytime something peculiar happened.

You sighed in exhaustion while covering your face with your hands. You were beyond exhausted and couldn’t properly focus on anything. Shifting on your side you reached towards your bedside lamp and turned it off letting darkness take over the room. You closed your eyes and drifted off, finally getting the rest you needed so badly.

The next morning you woke up slightly more refreshed. After taking a shower and picking out a nice outfit you were ready to come down for breakfast when something caught your attention. The piece of paper with Kira’s number was still sitting contently on the bed since last night. You frowned while picking it up and began thinking once again if calling him was really a good idea. Fuck it. You were going to call him. You knew it would just keep nagging you in the back of your head if you wouldn’t do it. You shakily grabbed your phone and started entering the number. Adrenaline shot through your veins as you waited for him to pick up-

“Yoshikage Kira speaking.” You almost had a heart attack when he finally answered, not expecting to hear his voice like that. His voice sounded husky and much more deeper than what you heard yesterday. Shit, did you wake him up? You instantly regretted not checking the time before calling, noticing that it’s 7:45 am.

“H-Hello it’s me from yesterday. You know, you showed up at the fanmeeting and we talked quite a lot and uhh…you left your phone number on the table. I’m guessing that this was intentional, right?” Your throat was dry as you spoke. You had no idea why you were so nervous out of a sudden.

“Oh, indeed. I did leave my number for you. I’m glad you called. I honestly expected you to not do it, but turns out I was wrong.” He spoke calmly. He was completely unfazed. How did this man manage to be so detached all the time you had no idea.

You ended up making small talk with him and at some point he did the unpredictable. He asked if you wanted to meet up for coffee later and you found yourself agreeing. Why? You had no idea yourself. All you knew is that there was something going on with this guy and you were an overly curious person. So there you were, walking down the streets of Morioh, the sun shining bright as you made your way towards the café. When you arrived he was already there, sitting cross legged in his chair as he sipped some coffee from a small cup at a table outside. He was dressed sharply as always. You had to admit, the guy was pretty attractive.

He spots you almost instantly and motions for you to join him at the table as you both give your good mornings. He hands you a menu with a small smile and you thank him politely.

“I’m really happy that you showed up. I was rather blunt with my approach yet you still decided to meet up with me.” He spoke up as he fixed you with his gaze. You would be lying if you’d say his sapphire colored eyes weren’t gorgeous.

“Well I had no plans for today and thought it would be interesting to meet new people.” You shrugged as you scanned the menu with your eyes. Internally you were still nervous but you tried to keep your cool. He nodded at your words, silently agreeing as he sipped his coffee. The waiter soon arrived and took your order, temporarily interrupting your conversation with him. You two ended up talking about many and you found out that he was surprisingly nice to speak to once you met him. Maybe it was indeed just your anxiety acting up yesterday. You noticed that he was very sharp minded and well mannered as well as rather reserved, but all in all he seemed like an interesting person. You found out that he was a salesman and was 33 years old. Not bad.

As you went on about how you created one of your sculptures, you couldn’t help but notice him flicking his eyes down to your hands that were on the table and back to your face from time to time. This was it again, the strangest habit that he had. You started feeling slightly uneasy again, so you found yourself speaking up.

“Hey Yoshikage, can I ask you something?” You ask as you feel the anxiety bubble up again in your gut. He nodded and silently urged you to go on. “Why do you keep staring at my hands sometimes? Is there something wrong with them?”

Silence. For a second you thought that he died. He was completely motionless until you saw his eyes flick towards your face again since he has been staring at the table for a good minute.

“It’s…nothing. Just that I wonder why do you always wear those gloves, even on this warm weather.” He quietly said. He looked like he was holding himself back from saying something more.

“Oh…well I never really liked my hands. Sure, without them I wouldn’t be able to do art which would be awful, but I was never fond of them. I don’t know, I just don’t like the way in which they are shaped.” You tried to explain yourself as you fidgeted with your gloves. You looked up at his face and saw him open his mouth again.

“May I…see them?” He said in a whisper. “I don’t believe they are nearly as bad as you say they are.”

You hesitated but complied and slowly took off your gloves. You have no idea why you agreed to this. Upon seeing your bare hands Kira almost let out a gasp. He gingerly took your right hand in his and examined it closely. You thought you would faint right in that moment.

“I don’t…I don’t understand. How could you hide those beautiful soft hands?” He almost sounded offended. He traced his thumb on the back of your hands feeling every knuckle. “I said it many times and I’m gonna say it again. I thoroughly adore your art. But my dear, no art could ever compare to your hands. They are the most beautiful I have ever seen.” He whispered with adoration in his eyes, not once looking away from your hand. At this point your entire face was hot red and you had difficulties breathing. Was he serious? You were certainly having a breakdown. He suddenly flicked his ice cool eyes up and slightly smirked upon seeing your flushed face. Damn him.

“T-Thank you, Yoshikage. God…I don’t even know what to say. All my life I hid them and disliked them and having someone say this to me for the first time feels overwhelming. But thank you, really.” You found yourself speaking while trying not to stutter too much. He merely just clicked his tongue and suddenly planted a chaste kiss upon the back of your hand. It took all of your power to not pull your hand away in that moment and go limp. You could see his eyes crinkle with amusement at your reaction as he finally released your hand.

It took you a good while to recover after that. As you finally regained composure, you two went on about various subjects and once again time flew by. At some point he excused himself and said that he had to go, but not before confessing that he would like to see you again sometime. He just had to meet up with you again for you had awakened something in him. Something that he hasn’t felt in a long time. Sure it would still make it’s presence felt from time to time, but he would manage to push it down and ignore it. But now it was stronger than ever. And he couldn’t restrain himself anymore. But he would try to. For you and you only.

The next day you two met up again and you noticed that he was acting off. He seemed distracted and would space out often, which you found to be extremely weird. Not to mention that he tried so hard not to stare at your hands too much. And of course that you noticed that too. You two were walking side by side in the park and you stopped and took a seat on a bench. He looked reluctant to join you at first, but took a seat next to you in the end.

“Yoshikage, are you ok? You haven’t been acting like yourself today.” You blurt out, your voice laced with concern. Just that mere hint of concern in your voice made his stomach clench. The fact that you were so pure and were actually worried for him almost made him snap. Almost.

He swallowed hard. “I’m fine. It’s nothing really.” He internally cursed himself for being unable to come up with a better excuse.

“You don’t seem that fine…” You quietly replied and he visibly tensed at your words. “Nonetheless, I just wanted you to know that I will be leaving soon. I have more locations to travel to and more fan meetings to do.” You said sadly. You didn’t want to leave him but you had no choice.

He didn’t answer you. You didn’t dare to look in his direction since you were certain he would be saddened by your sudden news. Suddenly you feel a tight grip on your jaw and found your head being turned to the side. Wasting no time, Kira smashed his lips against yours roughly. You were in shock and didn’t react at first but soon found yourself kissing back, wrapping your arms around his neck. It went on for what seemed like forever until you pulled back while gasping for air. You looked at him and he was panting, his hair messier than before.

“I just…..wanted to do this before you’d leave and I’d never see you again.” He breathlessly said while looking you in the eyes intensely.

“What do you mean you will never see me again? We can keep in touch and I’ll definitely come back soon.” You were utterly confused. He didn’t give you an answer as he looked at his watch.

“I have to go. I apologize for leaving you hanging again but I have matters to attend to.” He got up, kissed your hand again and walked away. The simple gesture still made you blush nonetheless.

As you walked back to your hotel you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched. Yet you spotted no one regardless of how many times you turned around. It felt like some unseen spirit was following you around the entire time.

Finally you reach your destination and enter the hotel. You don’t see anything odd as you walk through the lobby then into the elevator. You get out the elevator once it reaches the floor in which your room was located and start walking down the hall. Suddenly, you see a shadow at the end of it and stop dead in your tracks. It disappeared just as fast as it appeared. You turn your walk into a jog and finally reach your door and unlock it hurriedly. Just as you grasp the doorknob you hear a familiar voice, making you freeze on the spot.

“Killer Queen had already touched that doorknob.”

It was him. What was he doing here? Did he follow you on your way back? Your mind raced with erratic thoughts as a sharp click was the last thing you heard.

[bluesfortheredj]

Modern Romance Pt. 4

I wake several times during the night which is unlike me, but even in my unconscious state I know she’s only down the hall, and all of my fragmented dreams consist of her being in my house and us together in some form. It’s torture, especially when I hear her get up and go to the bathroom in the early hours of the morning and I have to fight every urge in my body that screams at me to get up as well just so I don’t have to wait any longer until I see her face. (Y/N)’s done something to me that I can’t explain and as I lay wide awake in my bed imagining her peaceful face sleeping as she huddles under the covers in my clothes, my heart begins to ache for the sight.

As soon as the sunlight starts to filter through my curtains I jump out of bed, not wanting to waste a single second of being able to see her, and I rush down the stairs as quietly as I can to fuss around until I hear her stirring. To my utter shock though, she somehow got down here before me and there she is in all her sleepy glory as she bends over the kitchen counter waiting for the kettle to boil with her elbows propping her head up. Her pose has the shorts I gave her riding high on her thigh and I spot a calf tattoo and one on either thigh as well, and I want to get on my knees to trace every single line of the design.

“Morning,” I whisper, not wanting to startle her.

“Oh, bloody hell,” she gasps as she stands upright in shock and clutches her hands to her chest, “scared the shit out of me then!”

“Sorry!” I laugh, “what are you doing up so early? Do you need to head off?”

My hands are behind my back as I cross all possible fingers as I await her answer and hope that she says she can stay here forever; or at least just today anyway.

“No, no, I just woke up unnaturally early and couldn’t get back to sleep,” she smiles as she starts to pour the water into two cups, “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“Not at all,” I grin, and uncross my fingers, “I also had the same problem.”

“Probably because you’ve got some strange woman staying in your house,” she smirks as she stirs my cup then hands me the drink.

“Yeah, I was worrying constantly about her sneaking down here to make me another beautiful cup of tea,” I wink, “what are your plans for today?”

“Oh, I’ll be out of your hair soon, don’t worry,” she smiles, taking my question the completely wrong way.

“No! I didn’t mean it that way. I was wondering if you wanted to hang around for a bit...”

“Umm… I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. I might never want to leave,” she admits as she looks down at her tea, and that’s it, my life is over because I’m in love with this woman and I never want her to leave my sight. We think the same, we’d say the same if I were a little braver, and is it too soon to think about how many guests we’d have at our wedding?

“That’s more than okay. You’d have absolutely no complaints from me if you wanted to stay indefinitely,” I say seriously, and she looks up to see how sincere I’m being.

“You really mean that, huh?” she asks as she studies my face carefully, and I nod in response so I don’t make a complete fool out of myself.

“What would you like for breakfast?” I ask before I say something that’ll make her run for the front door.

“Whatever you’ve got I’ll be happy with.”

“Go and make yourself comfy in the lounge then,” I smile, and she takes a sip of tea before her feet softly pad across the floor and out of the room.

I go about making pancakes and frying up some bacon to go along with them; surely an American style breakfast would go down well with her. I hope so, anyway. I pour orange juice into two glasses and put them on a tray along with the breakfast ingredients and two empty plates to fill, then walk into the living room and almost drop the damn thing on the ground at the sight that welcomes me. There she is with her feet up on the couch, which are now covered by a pair of my socks, her knees bent to show me all of her tattoos on the leg that faces me, and her hands wrapped around the mug as she brings it up to her lips.

“Breakfast!” I manage to grin as I set the tray down with my shaking hands.

Her face lights up as she swings her legs off of the sofa, then proceeds to put two pancakes onto her plate and neatly places three pieces of bacon on top before squirting some syrup over the stack, and giving me a guilty look.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologises, “I’m such a pig!”

“You most definitely are not!” I frown, “don’t be sorry about enjoying food. I’m always first to dig in at the dinner table anyway.”

She smiles then in relief she leans her forehead on my shoulder for a couple of seconds before turning her attention back to her plate which now sits on her lap, and picking up a knife and fork to begin eating. I fill my plate as well but find it difficult to concentrate on what I’m doing while I’m sitting next to her. I can see her thigh out of the corner of my eye; the ink just peeking out from the hem of my shorts, and I need to see more.

“How many tattoos have you got?” I ask casually after she’s finished her breakfast; mostly because I’m hoping she’ll show me every single one.

“A few,” she smiles as she places her plate on the coffee table, “wanna see?”

It’s a completely innocent question, she must be used to showing people who are curious, or after she’s had them done; this is nothing special… Except the way that I’m eyeing her skin as she reveals the first one is definitely not in an innocent way, and she knows it. The first wraps all the way around her thigh and I can’t quite believe how good my shorts look when they’re rolled up on (Y/N)’s body as she shows me her art. At one point she pulls the neck of the t-shirt down to show me one on her chest and her skin looks so soft there, my fingers are practically twitching to feel it.

“So, yeah, that’s all of them,” she says eventually, rolling the shorts back down.

“Incredible,” I smile, “beautiful.”

“Yeah, the artists were-”

“I meant you. All of you.”

“Right, well being as you made breakfast it’s only fair that I wash up!” she announces as a light blush appears on her cheeks.

She quickly gathers everything onto the tray then picks it up and scurries out to the kitchen, and I fear I’ve said too much. I rub my eyes with a mumbled ‘fuck’ under my breath then go to find her rinsing the plates in the sink.

“Leave that,” I say quietly, “why don’t we go out for a coffee or something?”

“My treat,” she says as she spins around to face me, “you’ve let me invade your house for the night.”

“Is there any point in me arguing?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well we’d better get dressed then,” I grin, and allow her to lead the way up the stairs.

I dress quickly from sheer excitement at walking out in public with her and I pace in the hallway for a few minutes before she comes down in her striped dress, minus the tights this time. Her hair falls in natural waves after being brushed out a little and not having anything to straighten it with, and she runs her fingers through it as if conscious of this fact but I think it looks gorgeous. Of course I would, though. She unhooks her duster coat from the hallway wall, then we leave together, just like a couple, then I boldly brush my hand against hers when we’re side by side, and almost jump for joy when she slips her fingers between mine.

The cafe I’ve chosen is quiet, it always is on a Sunday morning, and she insists I sit down while she goes up to get the drinks to make sure I don’t cut in and pay for them. I stare at her in awe as she stands behind the one other person ordering and she turns to give me a smile, completely catching me out but also letting on that she was seeing what I was doing as well. She arrives at the table soon after with the drinks and a chocolate chip muffin.

“I know we just had breakfast, but half each isn’t so bad, right? It was calling out to me from behind that glass,” she says, a little embarrassed.

Can she stop doing that? That thing where she’s absolutely perfect? The bright sunshine outside turns to rain clouds as we talk for hours, taking it in turns to go up and get the next couple of drinks when we can find a moment to tear ourselves away from one another. The darkened sky makes it seem a lot later than it is, but then to be fair it’s getting well on into the afternoon by the time we realise we should head back. We both walk as slowly as each other as we stroll along the damp street back to mine, and the atmosphere is heavy around us, not just because of the rain, but because we know this has to end sooner rather than later.

“I’d better get my things together,” she says sadly, not bothering to hide the fact that she doesn’t want to leave.

Before I can reply she’s making her way up the stairs and I’m rooted to the spot at the bottom of the staircase, watching helplessly as this incredible woman packs up her few belongings to leave. I’m still in the same spot when she starts to descend the stairs with her bag in hand, and she stops on the bottom step, now eye to eye with me. We stare at each other for a while, neither one of us knowing what to say, then she places a hand on my cheek and I’m quick to lean into her soft touch.

“Just know that I don’t want to go,” she says quietly as her thumb sweeps underneath my eye gently.

“Do you have to?” I ask in desperation.

“Yes,” she half laughs, “unfortunately I do.”

“Let me drive you to Liverpool Street.”

“It’ll be easier if I get the tube.”

“It won’t,” I frown, “please.”

She nods slowly then in silence we walk outside and get into the car for the longest drive of my life. Neither of us can talk on the way to the station, and when I eventually pull up down one of the nearest streets, we don’t even bother undoing our seatbelts for a couple of minutes. She reluctantly gets out of the car and I’m quick to follow as I turn the engine off and yank my keys out of the ignition.

“(Y/N),” I say, making her turn to face me as I come up at her side, “let me know when you get home safely.”

“I will,” she smiles.

I pull her against me as I wrap my arms around her upper body tightly and her hands slide around my back and grip onto my jacket. We stay like this for a while, until the rain starts up again and starts to cover us. We lean away from one another and I can’t help pressing my lips to hers again, the faint hint of coffee still on her lips from the cafe.

“Bye Gwilym,” she sighs as the kiss ends and her eyes flutter open.

“See you soon.”

“See you soon,” she nods, then there she goes into the crowd of people that are so busy as they rush around going in and out of the station. I keep my eyes on her for as long as possible but she eventually disappears and I have to fight every urge in my body that tells me to run after her. I get back into the car, brush my fingers through my damp hair, then drive back home in a sombre silence.

Walking through my front door is torture because she’s everywhere; the dishes she rinsed sit neatly in the sink, the pyjamas she borrowed are folded perfectly on the corner of spare bed, the faint whiff of her perfume lingers in the air, and the sofa cushions are positioned against the arm exactly where she left them.

@painthatiusedto @winnielinleigh @queenslandlover-93 @excellentbecca @ametaphorbrian @peachllobotomy @lovemarvelousfics @lovemelikeyou1997 @readinghorn @godohammers @timeandpixiedust @lv7867 @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @nina-sayerz @theborhapbois @wolfgirlxslytherin @the-baby-bookworm

[permets-tu-not-permettez-vous]

Awake My Soul

Chapter 3: Lightning Strike

Enjolras was early today; the studio was quiet. He had come early to get somewhat adjusted to the small piano that he was going to be playing for the next couple months. He wanted to practice teasing the emotion out of its weary notes and spend some quiet time in the mirrored room that for some reason seemed to make him feel at home. His messenger bag hung loosely from his shoulder as he unlocked the door with the keys Jehan had pressed into his hands a few days ago, and let himself into the darkened reception area. Picking his way through the dimly lit room, he entered the corridor leading to the dance studio, and saw a light at the end – the light to the dance studio. He furrowed his brow at the waste of electricity until he heard the muffled sound of the piano.

Curious, Enjolras crept forward until he could peer into the studio, and when he did his breath caught. Grantaire inhabited the space fully, dancing something that was from another show, perhaps Swan Lake as the music sounded like Tchaikovsky. He had, or course, known Grantaire, but hadn’t given him much of a second thought besides noting his enthusiasm for shots. But this - it was like seeing Grantaire for the first time. Enjolras had seen Grantaire dance before, but it had been while other people were dancing, and as a background role. Here, unwatched, Grantaire owned the entire room, his footing sure, his body light, leaping into the air as if it were nothing. Enjolras didn’t know much about ballet, but he knew that Grantaire was phenomenal. There was a quality to his dancing that conveyed emotions that Enjolras couldn’t even name, his heart panging in an emptiness at the sadness that echoed throughout the music and the loss mirrored in Grantaire’s movements. Enjolras had never seen such passion for an art, not even in the world of classical music. Here Grantaire was raw, his face reflecting the glorious thrill of launching his body completely into the music in a way that Enjolras didn’t even know was possible. He felt himself rooted to the floor, entranced.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but eventually the music stopped and Grantaire bent over, catching his breath, before walking over to pick up a water bottle and take a swig. He was clearly in his own headspace, as he immediately went back to marking something in the style that Enjolras recognized by now having spent enough time around dancers. They reviewed the steps in their head in a way that they could internalize it into their bodies without exhausting themselves by performing the entire dance move. Enjolras knew what the language consisted of, but he would never understand it. Enjolras waited with baited breath, to see if he would dance again, finding a need within himself to see Grantaire lose himself into the music once more in a way that Enjolras so desperately wished he could.

Grantaire walked over to the stereo and fiddled with it, starting a different song, and entering a different choreography, this one tender and soft. Grantaire transformed with the music, showing a vulnerability that Enjolras had never seen before – not on Grantaire, not on anyone, especially anyone on stage or a stranger to him. It made him feel like he was being let in on a secret, or like he was seeing something intimate, something he was not to see. Grantaire’s arms stretched, reaching for someone who wasn’t there, turned back on himself, debated, lost himself in his reverie, twirling through his thoughts. Where the previous piece was bold, with Grantaire leaping through the air in feats of unimaginable acts, this piece was unsure, timid, yet hopeful, like the first steps in falling in love. The way Grantaire was dancing made Enjolras feel as if he were experiencing the same emotions himself.

When the piece ended, Grantaire was clearly finished practicing, looking exhausted, the wonder and passion leaving him as the music faded, replaced by an all too human body with limits. Enjolras found his feet moving before he knew what he was doing, found himself standing in the doorway. “You’re amazing,” he said, his voice unnaturally loud, and breaking whatever spell had come over that space, shattering the feeling of tranquil intimacy that relaxed itself into the lines of Grantaire’s body.

Grantaire whirled around, startled, his eyes wide. They were a chocolate color today, Enjolras noted. “I didn’t know anyone was here. I didn’t know you were there,” Grantaire said, somewhat lamely.

“I know, I’m sorry. I came a little early to get used to the piano,” Enjolras entered the studio, a little hesitantly, feeling the distance between them to be too large for his comfort. He wished he could go sit next to Grantaire and ask him a million questions, but he didn’t know Grantaire well enough yet to be that intense. So he crossed over to the piano.

“That’s a thing?” Grantaire asked, a little skeptical. He sat on the floor and began to do some stretches to cool off.

Enjolras laughed. “Yes. Just like ballerinas have to break in their pointe shoes, piano players have to break in their pianos.”

Grantaire cocked his head to the side, considering. “I guess I never thought of it like that.”

Enjolras nodded, unsure what to say next. His hands felt oddly useless, despite the fact that they were highly skilled hands on the piano. “So, how long have you been dancing?”

A soft nostalgic smile crossed Grantaire’s face. “Since I was six. My father hated it. Thought it was useless and feminine. Needless to say he doesn’t really appreciate my life choices.”

“Even though you’re here? In the best ballet company Paris, and some say Europe, has to offer?” Enjolras felt a wave of inexplicable rage come over him – Grantaire was so clearly talented and to have his own father not only not recognize his talent, but to write it off! Enjolras clasped his hands behind his back to hide their shaking.

Grantaire laughed, a trace of bitterness coloring his face. “Like that will change years of prejudice and toxic masculinity.”

Enjolras looked down, unable to meet Grantaire’s eyes, which seemed to have a question Enjolras couldn’t answer within them. “I guess you’re right.”

“How long have you been playing then?” Grantaire said, changing the subject rather obviously. Enjolras didn’t know whether he should be relieved.

“Since I was five. I didn’t know I wanted to do it for a living until I was fourteen, though.”

“You must have been pretty good to be one of the foremost piano players of the world this young.”

Enjolras looked up suddenly. “How do you know that?”

Grantaire grinned a little guiltily, a dimple flashing on the right side of his mouth. “I might have looked you up. Courfeyrac was making a big deal about you, and after the first practice I was a little curious.”

Enjolras groaned. “You didn’t.”

Grantaire’s grin only grew broader. “Oh, yes I did. And you should know there is quite a lot of information out there.”

Enjolras ran a hand over his face, mortified. “I really don’t want to know what’s out there.”

Grantaire laughed. “It’s nothing too bad, but I will say there are some YouTube videos of your early performances. You were a cute kid.”

Enjolras wanted to sink into the floor. “Please stop talking,” he said, but with the hint of a smile. To his surprise, Grantaire acquiesced, turning his attention to some final stretches before packing up his various leg warmers and extra flat shoes into his bag.

“Well, that’s me,” he said, swinging his bag on his shoulder.

“Aren’t you staying for rehearsal?” Enjolras asked, not wanting to be left alone, though before he ran into Grantaire all he wanted to do was to be alone in the studio and fill the emptiness with music.  

“I’ll be back. Rehearsal got moved back a couple of hours and I need to grab something to eat before I dance again. Maybe also grab a shower.”

“It got moved back? How much?”

“Just an hour and a half. But like I said, I need to eat something before my body starts to eat itself or I pass out.”

“Wait, hold on. Could I give you my number and if rehearsals are rescheduled you could text me?”

Grantaire looked a little uncertain, tapping his fingers against his thigh. Then he shrugged. “Why not? Here, let me grab it.” He dug around in his bag and handed Enjolras his phone. Enjolras entered in his number and handed it back.  

“Text me so I have your number,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire nodded, a shy smile wreathing his face, and turned to go. “See you in a bit,” he called over his shoulder, and then he was gone. The silence seemed unnaturally loud after Grantaire’s laughter. Enjolras played a couple scales and chords to warm up, his brain working furiously and his hands automatically. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to find a new text from an unknown number.

The Artist Formerly Known As Grantaire.

Despite himself, Enjolras felt a smile touch his lips.

                                                    *  *  *

By the time rehearsal rolled around, Enjolras was very happy with his progress with the piano. He was also inexplicably eager to get to work with rehearsal, to see the ballet begin to come together. He waved at several dancers he had come to know as the entered, and some even came over to chat with him, which Enjolras really appreciated because it felt that he was being folded into their number. Courfeyrac spent most of his time before rehearsal with Enjolras, asking a lot of questions about Combeferre. Enjolras made a mental note to tell Combeferre to come spend a weekend and introduce him to everyone. It seemed Courfeyrac would be especially appreciative of that.

Enjolras noticed when Grantaire walked in – different set of tights and shirt, his bag casually slung over one shoulder, chattering happily with Eponine. “Courfeyrac?” Enjolras began.

Courfeyrac stopped midstream of listing his qualifications for making a good partner, looking at him curiously out of the corner of his eye. “Yes?” He sounded apprehensive. “Oh no, does he already have a boyfriend?”

Enjolras laughed and shook his head. “No, nothing like that. He’s perfectly single. But I was actually wondering if Grantaire and Eponine are together.”

Courfeyrac gave him a look of disbelief, before throwing he head back and laughing. “Heavens, no. That’s precious. What would make you think that?”

“They’re really close,” Enjolras stammered, his cheeks flushing red hot.

Courfeyrac cocked his head to the side, watching the pair. “I guess I could see that. But no, most definitely not. Great friends, roommates even. But they are both not each other’s types. Man, they would be a disaster as a couple. Too similar as people.”

“Hmmm,” Enjolras said noncommittally. He wasn’t sure why he was so relieved that they weren’t dating, but he felt a tension in his chest ease.

“Why do you ask?” Courfeyrac asked suggestively. “Perhaps our dearest Eponine has caught your eye? She’s quite the catch, you know. Or perhaps it’s Grantaire?  He’s a real piece of work, but that body, I tell you.” He trailed off.

Enjolras made a dismissive gesture. “No, it’s nothing like that. I just figured I should know more about all of these new friends I’m making.”

Grantaire looked over and caught Enjolras’ eye. He said something quickly to Eponine and headed over to them. Enjolras rubbed his hands on his pants, not sure why they were suddenly sweaty. “Hey,” Grantaire grinned. “How was your date with the piano?”

Enjolras laughed. “It went better than I expected. It was pretty good for a first date.”

Grantaire reached into his bag and tossed him a pain au chocolat, wrapped in crinkly paper. “I figured you might need something to eat. Playing the piano isn’t as calorie-consuming as dancing but since rehearsal will be running later due to our delay, I figured we’d better not have our piano player pass out. That would make rehearsal even more difficult. Also, imagine the headlines. The world of classical music would be at our throats.” His hair was mussed, and Enjolras couldn’t help but notice that in the sunlight, his curls had an auburn gleam.

Enjolras managed to catch the pain au chocolat. “Thanks,” he said, softly, a little stunned that Grantaire would think of him enough to bring him a snack.  

Grantaire shrugged. “Anything for a friend.” And then he was gone, back to Eponine, back to the barre, back to dancing. Enjolras but the snack on the side of the piano, almost reverently.

Courfeyrac watched the exchange, bemused. “I think it might be something like that,” he said, more to himself than Enjolras. Enjolras opened his mouth to answer but at that moment Jehan called the class to order and the moment passed, Courfeyrac bounding back to the barre. As Enjolras shuffled through his music for the first warm-up song, he pushed Courfeyrac’s words out of his head, took a breath, and dove into the music.

AO3 Link

[supernova1us]

My Dragonball Z reboot

Dragon ball is another one of those big awesome anime series that just didn’t know when to quit.  Like many others, rather than go out on a high note, they just keep going and going, regardless of the drop in quality.  I for one don’t really care for dragon ball super. So, here is the concept for a total reboot of the dragon ball series.  The style would be similar to that of dragonball z, and the setting/world is the same: with earth being the same mishmash of eras of time and cultures. The main alteration to this reality is that planet vegeta and the saiyans still exist. This breakdown will be a bit vague because I do not have any names for the characters. To keep things simple for now and consistent with the franchise trends, i will give them temporary stand in names.  

 ARC 1

Two saiyans, a brother(carrot) and sister(cabbage), land on earth with the missions to raise it.  They split up and cabbage meets a human(tech); a young man inventor with some martial arts training.  Making her intentions clear, he challenges her, knowing he has little chance of winning. Though she consistently beats him severely, he refuses to stay down.  After letting her take a rest, he uses a technicality of their agreement (her being on the ground for 10 seconds) to declare victory.  Initially furious, she becomes amused, respecting him and concedes. The two become fast friends and, impressed by earth’s food and beauty, she begins to decide she does not want to destroy the planet.   Meanwhile carrot amuses himself with mischief and destruction. Returning, the siblings clash in a fierce battle which she wins, and carrot, badly injured, spitefully sends a message through his scouter for saiyan back up before escaping.

Tech is told of the saiyans mission of conquering planets in reluctant servitude of the space tyrant, king frieza. Tech reveals he has one of the legendary dragon balls as a family heirloom and if they collect all 7, they can wish for the earths safety.  With practice, cabbage realizes she can detect the unique energy of the dragon balls and they set out across the world to find them. A healed carrot learns of their intentions and sets out for the balls as well, desiring invincibility.  Tech and carrot have many adventures in their search for the balls, including an ongoing feud with an underground militia of sentient machines who desire world conquest. A romantic tension between them begins to build and they also come to meet the hidden alien guardian of the earth, kami and become quick enemies with his evil counterpart piccolo. They also gain a dragon ball from a Martial arts master after first defeating his 3 guards then him.  Impressed and recognizing cabbages potential outside of just her raw power, he offers to train them.  They accept but will only return after they have made their wish.  

They gain all but one ball, which carrot has retrieved. Confronting each other again, the battle turns to wide spread carnage when the moon rises and both transform to battle in their great ape forms.  Needing to end the threat, tech severs both their tails, and when carrot attacks civilians in a last act of desperation, cabbage is forced to deal a killing blow. Reconciling with his sister as he dies, he tells her that they have at least 2 years before the other saiyans are likely to come.  Both tech and cabbage agree to use the dragons wish to undo the damage done by the battle.  Building a clock to count down until the dragon balls will be usable again, the two return to the master to train.  

 ARC 2

Training under their hardy master and black, his strict niece/assistant, both have shown great improvement in their fighting skills, as well as more open signs of feelings for each other.  With nothing left to learn, they are dispatched far and wide to do odd ball tasks for their master.  Eventually, he reveals that due to financial difficulties, he intends for them to represent his dojo in the world’s martial arts tournament.  They do and face many opponents and win. However, the semi-final has them battling each other. After a long match that sees many feelings and insecurities brought to the surface, cabbage ultimately wins. She faces the final opponent, revealed to be a disguised piccolo.  After a brutal match in which both resort to using their energy attacks, she seemingly destroys piccolo and wins the tournament.  She and tech reconcile and admit they love each other and begin a relationship.  As a show of love he gathers the dragon balls and wishes cabbages tail back.  

 ARC 3

Before the dragon balls can renew again, cabbage, tech and their allies, now called the Z fighters, are summoned by kami. Revealing that the saiyans are on their way and will arrive sooner than expected, he intends to train them in special new techniques to better stand against the saiyans’ powers. During their training, they also learn of the history of the saiyans as well as of kamis race. Eventually the z fighters head for the desert in hopes of keeping the fight away from populated areas.  A squad of 5 saiyans arrives, including an old friend of cabbage and led by the psychotic saiyan prince broly. Broly declares her a traitor but chooses to sit and watch as the others fight.  A massive battle erupts between the groups in which two of the saiyans are killed but the master is badly wounded and all but cabbage and tech leave to take him to heal. All of this is also witnessed by piccolo from afar, who takes an interest in broly.

The moon rises and cabbage and the two other saiyans transform and do battle as great apes all through the night.  She manages to kill one but chooses to spare her friend. Broly finally enters the battle and is the stronger as he beats her. Summoning as much ki as he can muster, tech manages a single punch to broly, scarring and briefly disorienting him. His hand now shattered and with no energy left, tech can only smugly accept his fate as broly angrily delivers a fatal blow. Driven made by grief, cabbage is transformed into a legendary super saiyan, while her friend takes tech to safety.  Despite unleashing his full power and going into a battle craze, broly is beaten to within an inch of his life and left for dead.  Unknown to the others, he is rescued by piccolo, who returns him to his ship and maintains that he is an ally.  Cabbage and tech declare their love as he dies, but he reminds her that she can bring him back with the dragon balls and she promises to. Her friend declines to stay on earth and leaves to rejoin their race.  

 ARC 4

While cabbage deals with loss and boredom in the living world, techs soul appears at a cross road between heaven and hell. A middle road appears to him and a voice leads him down it to a small world. There he is greeted by the great king kai, who intends to train him so he will be stronger when he is brought back to life.  It is revealed that carrot is also there being trained by the kai.  Though there is initial hostility, the two grow closer through their training and become somewhat more civil.  With the dragon balls active again, cabbage is in a race against piccolo to retrieve them.  After all have been found by one or the other, they fight for all 7.  Piccolo wins but the dragon cannot grant his wish of immortality, as he is technically still a part of kami, and the dragon cannot grant his own creator a wish. While piccolo angrily attacks the dragon, cabbage is telepathically informed by king kai to phrase her wish a certain way. She steals the wish in the confusion, which results in reviving tech and carrot.  Syphoning some of the dragons power before he vanishes again, piccolo empowers himself and battles the three, who ultimately defeat him, but are warned not to kill him for fear of killing kami.  Piccolo is instead imprisoned beneath the dojo.  

A brief time jump shows that tech and cabbage are married and she is pregnant and they have moved into a house connected to their master’s dojo. Carrot has also joined them, now having a love/hate relationship with black. They take part in a celebration and competition between many of the regional martial arts dojos.  

 ARC 5

8 years later, tech and cabbage act as instructors for the now more popular dojo, with their half saiyan twin son and daughter among their students. Carrot and black are also together and have 2 sons.  As their anniversary nears, cabbage finds herself teleported to king kais world, who warns of a great threat heading to earth. He teaches her many powerful new techniques, primarily the spirit bomb. Sending her back, she and tech celebrate their anniversary before the earth comes under invasion; king frieza has arrived. The Z fighters fight friezas forces across multiple locations and skirmishes until frieza and a healed broly arrive, along with cabbages friend, now a brain washed cyborg.  Broly and carrot clash in a furious battle, with both reaching super saiyan forms and fighting to a standstill. Tech battles the cyborg saiyan but is beaten, but she is then overwhelmed and beaten by the half saiyan children.  

Cabbage battles with frieza but cannot overcome him and transforms into a super saiyan.  Frieza absorbs the kai of his forces, killing them but making him giant and more powerful. Using her knowledge of earth to her advantage, the moon rises and she becomes a super saiyan great ape.  Now more evenly matched, they engage in a titan sized battle that destroys the land scape.  By dawn cabbage reverts to normal and a beaten and humiliated, frieza prepares a blast to destroy all of earth and intends to do the same to the saiyans home world Vegeta.  Hearing this, broly furiously attacks him, thwarting the attack.  Using the opening, cabbage charges a spirit bomb and blasts frieza into space and his apparent death.  Broly escapes in the chaos and vows to return with the whole saiyan army.  

In the aftermath, the z fighters return home with the cyborg saiyan, who appears to be free of her brainwashing.  They locate the dragon balls again and finally use their wish to protect earth, making it invisible to any who mean it harm.  This is just in time as broly returns with his forces but cannot locate the planet. Embarrassed, he is also belittled and ordered back to planet vegeta by his father king paragus to answer for his betrayal of frieza, who is revealed to have survived.  On earth, the cyborg saiyan is briefly taken over by a preprogrammed order and silently slips away and frees piccolo, giving him a special task from broly.

 ARC 6

1 year after the defeat of frieza, tech, cabbage, carrot and black leave to take part in the next world martial arts tournament.  While they are gone, piccolo returns and battles the dojo master, with the cyborgs conditioning keeping her from interfering.  Piccolo wins and kidnaps the 4 half saiyan children, per brolys request.  Their parents return and are told by the cyborg that piccolo has taken them to planet vegeta. Before they leave on a ship salvaged from friezas invasion, they are summoned by kami. Knowing that piccolo must be destroyed, he names the dojo master as his successor and gives each of the fighters a portion of his power. They leave and briefly stop on namik, kamis home world. They train in new techniques, resupply and learn of a single renegade warrior, who sought redemption by splitting his good and evil halves, forming kami and piccolo.  The cyborg, thinking herself a liability, chooses to stay on namik and mentally train to overcome her conditioning.

Arriving on vegeta, they learn that broly has killed his father and become king and is in the midst of a battle with friezas empire. They infiltrate vegeta only to discover broly, with piccolo, and a cyborg freiza striking a truce.  They reveal the half saiyan children, now brainwashed, and have them attack their parents.  After some time, the parents use the mental abilities they learned on namik to reach the children and free them.  An all-out brawl soon erupts; cabbage fighting broly, carrot fighting frieza, tech and black fighting piccolo and the children and the z fighters fighting broly/friezas henchman. The rest of the saiyans, convinced by the returned cyborg to rebel against broly, renew their fight against freizas forces.  Both frieza and piccolo are killed in the respective battles, and on earth, the master bids a sad farwell to kami as he dies. Their battle having taken them to a nearby barren world, broly and cabbage are evenly matched as super saiyans.  Broly absorbs all the ki of freizas forces, destroying his whole army and transforming into the super saiyan god form.  Cabbage is able to achieve the same with the ki willingly given by her family, friends and the other saiyans.  She manages to win the fight by blasting broly into the sun with a spirit bomb, killing him.

In the aftermath, the cyborg becomes the new queen of vegeta and the others enjoy a vacation there before returning to earth.  A nemikian joins them so as to aid the master and repower the dragon balls.  Cabbage and tech also take over as masters for the dojo.  

 ARC 7

6 years later, the half saiyan children are deal with high school and mundane life while keeping their considerable power under wraps.  The Z fighters are forced to again contend with the return of the machine militia, as well as the vengeful brother of freiza, cooler. Cooler however is more honorable and relents after accepting the necessity of his brothers death.  The earth soon faces a new threat of the dark kai, a demonic former kai who sought cosmic destruction. Joined by cooler, the z fighters infiltrate his demonic fortress, with it taking all the saiyans together to overwhelm and destroy him.  

King kai invites the fighters to the otherworldly realm and asks them to represent him in a fighting tournament of beings from across the universe.  The fighters compete until cabbage and carrot stand as the finalist team, and are set to face the spirits of piccolo and broly, the champions of the lord of hell. Both sides eagerly prepare to battle, eager for a rematch.

The end.  

[raendown]

A collaboration with the ever delight @sinyaru, though her art would definitely only get flagged here on tumblr. Follow the link to see the story with art!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 6542 Summary: Madara rather enjoys going to this new 'gymnasium' that Hashirama insisted on building. He doesn't really work out very much but how is he supposed to concentrate on exercise with Tobirama walking around look like that?

Edit: my fingers wanted to press buttons and make that word count look reeeaaaaaally big. Oops.

Lift

“He’s doing it again.”

Izuna lifted his head with a very tired expression, refusing to look over at something he had seen a hundred times before. He knew exactly what he would find if he did. Why did his brother insist on dragging him along for this shit when he was only going to spend the whole time mooning over that albino asshole? And why was Tobirama always here when they came? Either Madara had memorized the man’s workout schedule or he just never went home after work.

Duly ignoring the fact that he was being ignored in turn, Madara dabbed at the corners of his mouth to make sure he hadn’t started drooling again. Last time he’d sat and watched like this Tobirama had almost turned around and caught him with drool on his face. If he had then Madara would have ended his life right then and there. Some things were just too embarrassing to live with.

He really hoped Izuna hadn’t figured out that the only reason he made the other come with him to the indoor workout center was so it wouldn’t be suspicious that he showed up every time Tobirama did and yet never actually got around to working out himself. Madara snuck his own workouts in on his lunch breaks and during the nights when he couldn’t sleep; he never got around to it here in the actual gym because getting anything done with such a gorgeous specimen walking around sweaty and sleeveless was impossible. It just wasn’t fair how hot he was. Hashirama should make it illegal.

No, Hashirama could never know how desperate Madara was to get his tongue on that body. Or to have that tongue on his own body. Either would be appreciated.

“Spot me, Romeo.” Izuna shoved at his shoulder as he moved to lie down on the bench press.

Madara moved in to position without taking his eyes off of where Tobirama was still going through his warmup stretches. He had just gotten to the good part at the end where he rolled effortlessly up in to a handstand and then did pushups from that position. It was like a religious experience every time he got to witness it.

“Can you take your eyes off him for two damn seconds? If I drop this on my own face I’m going to make SURE you stay at the hospital for every hour it takes to heal me.”

“Quiet!” Madara shrieked, glaring down at his brother. “Don’t let him hear you!”

“Then spot me, damn it!” Izuna glared right back with equal fire.

He did have a good point though. As hard as it was, Madara forced himself to tear his eyes away so he could be a proper workout partner for a few minutes. Obviously he wouldn’t last very long, they both knew he would get distracted and go back to staring in short order, but when he did he would brace his arms with chakra so he could at least deflect the weight bar should it fall. Not the best plan but it was better than potentially getting both of them hurt.

As compensation for the annoyance he heaped on the younger man every time they came here Madara very generously allowed Izuna to throw what snarky comments he could in-between heaving for breath as he lifted perhaps more weight than he should have. Without chakra to enhance their muscles they were only stronger than most civilians because of the sheer amount of time they spent on their bodies. None of his insults were anything too creative or new anyway so it wasn’t that hard to let them roll off like the sweat rolling down the sides of his neck. Madara smirked and nodded along, letting him have his moment.

“What rep are you on?” a familiar voice asked from just over his shoulder. Madara startled so badly he knocked his brother’s elbow and only just barely managed to catch the bar so it didn’t crush his head. Swallowing nervously, he peeked over to see Tobirama staring back with a judgmental expression.

“Shut up! None of your business!” While he did refrain from dropping his face in to both hands with shame, it was a close call. Why did he have to fail at communicating with this man so consistently?

“Those machines are for public use,” Tobirama ground out. “Which means you have to share, Uchiha. Ugh. Just let me know when you’re finished. Everyone else just started their reps and I have things to do, I can’t hang around all day waiting.”

“Why not?”

Izuna snickered and Madara glanced down with narrowed eyes, trying to project his willingness to let this stupid weight bar drop.

“Unlike you, apparently, I have important things to do. I can’t spend every damn evening at the gym just hanging out.” Tobirama huffed and turned away, heading over to scout out the other machines while he waited, and Madara very carefully set the bar down in its resting position before covering his face to muffle a frustrated scream.

Patting him mockingly on the leg, Izuna snickered again. “Why are you like this?” he asked.

“I wish I knew,” Madara groaned in reply.

“You know you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Maybe you should try, oh I don’t know, not screaming in his face every time he gets near you?”

“I panic!” Scrubbing both hands down his face and dropping them, Madara sighed. “Every time he looks at me my stomach leaps up in to my throat and my brain falls out my ass and then I just start screaming so he won’t realize I’ve spent the last fifteen minutes wondering if he likes to hold hands.”

“Sweet Sage you’re hopeless. And a secret softy. I wonder what you might pay to stop me from marching over there and just telling him so I can end my own suffering.”

Madara slowed his movements just enough to give Izuna time to brace himself as he knocked the bar off its perch and stormed away in a huff. Dirty rotten no good brother. He could find a different spotter if he was going to be like that. Madara did a lap around the gym trying to figure out how to look busy before eventually settled on the floor mat Tobirama had just been using, pulling out some of the equipment to set the scene and then hunkering down to keep watch. He had to make sure Izuna didn’t actually follow up on that threat.

Fortune appeared to be smiling on him now, however, as Izuna had given up on the bench press without someone to spot him and moved away to quietly work with one of the rowing machines. Even better, Tobirama spotted the open bench and made his way over. Madara’s attention was immediately and completely given over to watching those glorious muscles and the way they shifted deliciously under all that pale skin while the other man loaded the bar with much more weight than Izuna had used. Those corded arms of his were far from just for show.

Built for speed and no stranger to training for it, Tobirama had recently been packing on quite a bit of muscle as well. As his favorite sparring partner Izuna had mentioned he was trying out a new combat style for no other reason than to see if his body could take it. Madara was of the opinion that you shouldn’t try to fix what wasn’t broken but he was far from stupid enough to say so, especially when he personally was getting the most out of this change in pace.

Had there ever been a more fuckable human being than Senju Tobirama? Madara was pretty sure there had not. The fact that such a perfect body came packaged with a brilliant mind, a family-oriented heart, and more biting wit than Madara could hope to parry in any given argument only served to make him more desirable.

If only Madara could close his dumb mouth for two seconds he might have even been able to finagle at least one date to soothe his stupid yearning heart.

So caught up in his admittedly creepy habit of staring, he failed to pay attention to anything else beyond those flexing arms until it was too late. When Tobirama suddenly paused in the middle of his third rep and Madara looked around to figure out what might have distracted him he happened to look in to the mirrors that lined one entire wall of the gym – Hashirama’s idea, something about providing visual encouragement for the people who used the facilities. In the mirror he found the image of Tobirama’s head tilted up and back to use the reflective surface. Using it to meet Madara’s hungry stare head on.

He’d been caught.

Tobirama gave him no time to escape, using the few moments when he was frozen in horror to narrow those pretty red eyes of his, set the bar down, and crook a finger in his direction. Madara swung his head from side to side just to make sure it was him the man was calling over. Not at all ready to face his doom, he stood up and shuffled over reluctantly. Hopefully Izuna wasn’t looking. He really didn’t want his only little brother to watch him die doing something embarrassing like saying “thank you” while Tobirama crushed his head between those glorious thighs.

When he shuffled over with his head bowed in childlike shame – more to hide his embarrassment than because he was actually sorry for looking – the other man curled himself in to a sitting position and indicated the weights that Madara was now standing next to.

“You get that side?” was all he said before he began removing the ones on his end.

After flustering for a moment Madara figured he might as well do as he’d been asked. Whatever was happening was definitely worth it for the chance to see those muscles from close up. Every time Tobirama lifted one of them to set it aside his arms flexed and Madara’s heart did a backflip inside his chest. For each one the other man pulled off Madara took away the corresponding weight in front of him, keeping the bar balanced so it wouldn’t fall on either of their innocent toes, until finally everything had been put away.

He was utterly confused to see Tobirama lay down on the bench and get in to position as though he intended to press the bar with nothing on it, even more confused when the man looked at him very pointedly without saying anything for a full minute.

“What?” he grumbled eventually.

“Get on,” Tobirama said.

“Um…huh?”

“Sit on the bar.”

“But I don’t – okay! Okay! Don’t give me that face, I’m doing it. Even if you’re being weird. I mean, you’re already on the part that you’re supposed to sit on. Am I going to get in trouble for this because I think this technically counts as abusing the equipme–WOAH!”

Cut off right in the middle of his anxious rambling, Madara had to windmill both arms just to keep his balance as Tobirama settled his grip and lifted the bar, human occupant and all. His body rose steadily in to the air, held for a moment, and then lowered back down just as steadily with nary a twitch. Underneath him Tobirama’s face was held in a grimace of concentration offset by the single bead of sweat dribbling down his temple. Despite their proximity and all the efforts he had put in to not being obvious Madara was helpless to do anything but crane his neck and stare below himself with awe. Those arms should be considered lethal weapons on visuals alone.

Worse was the fact that Tobirama refused to look away from him, holding his gaze like a challenge and quirking his lips up in that knowing smirk that had always driven the general populace mad. For most people it was an annoyingly smug look that meant they were about to be told exactly why and how their mistake had been the stupidest thing to ever happen within the bounds of Konoha. For Madara it meant he was going to spend the next half hour trying to conceal an erection while holding up his end of a screaming match, usually somewhere very public.

Still with no idea what Tobirama was actually up to or how this odd little scene was meant to play out, Madara only barely resisted the urge to squirm while he watched the impressive display of strength, sticking himself in place with a touch of chakra just in case the distraction was too much. And then, because apparently he hated himself, because he was a doomed individual who lacked any sort of brain filter, he spat out his thoughts without considering them first.

“Kami that’s hot. I bet you could hold me up against the wall for hours.”

The bar underneath him faltered, still not unsteady but pausing in the repetitive up and down. Madara burned from the inside out as his own words finally registered when he saw the staggered look on Tobirama’s face.

“Wait! No! I didn’t mean–! You heard nothing Senju! NOTHING!” In his panic he lost all semblance of concentration and the precaution he had taken with his chakra was immediately rendered pointless as he lost control and pitched over backwards.

Sending him, of course, straight down on top of the other man’s body. And when he managed to sit up he was, of course, straddled directly over Tobirama’s lap.

In his last life he must have done something horrible, terrible, despicable, utterly unforgivable. It was the only explanation. Karma hated him down to the roots. Madara very much wished he could reach back in to whatever previous life that had been and throttle himself for the trouble now. Clearly erasing his own existence would be less painful than whatever method by which death was about to find him, whether it be at Tobirama’s hand or choking on his own airways as he scrambled to swing one leg over and stand up. Doing so ground his ass against some very interesting parts of Tobirama that, no matter how hard he tried not to be, he was still very interested in.

His entire life flashed before his eyes when Tobirama caught his wrist. At full mental capacity he could wipe the floor with this man but conversely he knew that all Tobirama had to do was flex once and he would happily walk straight in to a blade aimed for his own heart. There were definitely some sort of blades in that sharp gaze pinning him in place.

“Did I hear you correctly?” Tobirama asked under the sound of the active gymnasium around them. Madara gurgled.

“Kami I hope not!” he shouted. When the fingers on his wrist loosened with surprise he wriggled free and bolted for the locker room.

Finally the gods appeared to be smiling on him because the entire room was empty. Not all that many people were at the gym right now, most of them having dinner with their families or still wrapped up in some duty or another. Madara, on the other hand, was scrabbling at the padlock barring him from the clothing he had worn on the way here, hoping that his fingers would remember the combination because his brain was a little too scrambled to think about anything other than how it felt to have his legs spread over Tobirama’s hips.

The sound of footsteps had him scrabbling harder, twisting the spinner on the lock in random directions as though he might stumble upon the code by accident. He stopped when a pale hand gently placed itself over his own. Madara wondered if it was possible for a human being to actually swallow their own tongue.

“You wouldn’t be trying to run away from me, now would you?” Tobirama’s voice murmured in his ear.

“No I’m running in defense of my own sanity,” Madara whimpered. He shivered when the other man chuckled darkly.

“Funny because it felt as though you were running from me. Could it be that you were embarrassed to reveal something you didn’t want me to know?” His chuckle deepened and his other hand came around to press against the lockers on the opposite side of Madara’s body, trapping him between cold metal and warm body.

His breath was hot and Madara could feel the rapid beating of Tobirama’s heart against his back, a rhythm his own heart seemed determined to outstrip. As two men who used to stand on opposite sides of the battlefield he thought it probably would have made sense if he were uncomfortable in this position, if being pinned face-first against the lockers had set off his instinct to fight. It was probably a bad sign that instead all he wanted to do was cant his hips backwards and beg for just a little bit of friction.

No one – no one – should have the power to make the Uchiha clan head beg. Kami but he was pathetic sometimes.

Madara did his best to clamp down on a whine as he took a quick peek on either side of himself, looking for a way out of this mess before he made an even bigger fool of himself than he already had. Unfortunately Tobirama had him fairly well pinned and the only way he could see himself getting free of this would be to either wrestle his way out, which would result in an even more embarrassing erection, or to cover himself in Sasunao’o, which would of course destroy a part of the building and Hashirama would give him another lecture on inappropriate levels of property damage. Neither sounded like an attractive option.

Tobirama leaned a bit further in to him and Madara was in the midst of desperately adding fainting to the list of things that might get him out of this situation when his body froze, eyes blowing wide, hardly able to believe he was feeling what he thought he was feeling.

“Are you…hard?” he choked out. Tobirama hummed and the sound was so close to his ear it might as well have been a lover’s whisper.

“How could I not be when you spread yourself over me so nicely just a moment ago? I can’t help but wonder what you would have looked like doing that with no clothes on.”

Madara squeezed his eyes tightly and prayed for strength. He wasn’t entirely sure what was about to happen to him but he did know that it would probably kill him. What a way to go, though. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t always thought he would die at the hands of a Senju but he’d always thought it would be a different Senju angry on a battlefield not a delicious sweaty beefcake who refused to wear sleeves for the health of the general public.

Somewhere in the frantic scrambling of his brain he realized he needed to say something. Ideally it would have been something cool and suave, something intelligent and smooth, a line or a quip that would let Tobirama know he was not only down for whatever this was but ready to make a good showing of himself. Instead all he said was–

“Why are you so hot!?”

“I…am not sure how to answer that question but I will gladly take it as consent to go on.” Tobirama’s chuckle was accompanied with the brush of his lips against the top of Madara’s shoulder, one hand pulling away from where it was braced to graze down the length of his side in an agonizingly slow glide.  

Madara closed his eyes. There wasn’t much room for him to do anything, caught as he was between body and steel, so he did the only thing he could and squirmed helplessly while his mouth fell open to let out a soft moan. He didn’t want to think about how long he’d been fantasizing about having those hands on his body – partly because he would then have to think about how long he’d been wanting those hands woven in to his own and that was much too embarrassing to get in to right then. Now was the time for taking what he was being given.

Pressing his face against the metal locker helped cool his burning cheeks, a perfect counterpoint to how hot Tobirama’s hands were as they slipped under the hem of his work out shirt. Not having actually worked out paid off in an unexpected way when Madara sent a prayer of thanks that he wasn’t disgusting and sweaty where those hands were groping. It definitely would have ruined the moment if he smelled like trash from too many pushups, no matter how nice he thought his own arms were. Tobirama’s arms were definitely nicer, wrapped around him as they were, and Madara cracked his eyes back open to allow himself a moment to roam over the perfectly shaped biceps he’d been drooling over from afar. Then he rolled his hips back and grinned when he felt the hardness there rubbing between his ass cheeks.

Unsurprisingly, Tobirama felt the need to retaliate. That was pretty much the entirety of both their personal and professional relationships, constantly reacting to each other and struggling to gain the upper hand, though lately their squabbles had shifted away from violence and more towards silly pranks and half-hearted teasing. Now he did so by sliding his hand down to cup Madara through his loose pants even as his hips rolled forward to press the older man just a little bit father forward.

“You’re playing with fire,” Tobirama growled.

“I’m an Uchiha. I played with fire in my cradle.”

“Don’t bring your cradle in to this.” Tobirama paused to snicker against his back. “Picturing you as an infant is not sexy and I am trying very hard to be sexy right now.”

Madara whined and dropped his head lower. “Everything you do is sexy you stupid asshole.”

Laughing a little louder, Tobirama stepped back just enough that he had room to spin Madara around and push him back against the lockers again, stepping forward until their bodies were flush with each other and dipping his head for a kiss that curled the ends of Madara’s hair. This time when he rolled his hips it was to grind their lengths together, both of them hard enough to feel that sweet friction through the layers of clothing between them.

“Oh sweet Sage,” Madara whispered. His hand clenched around the biceps he had just been admiring, shudders rippling through his body to finally have them under his palms. Tobirama grinned and shuffled his weight to force one of his thighs between both of Madara’s while he trailed kisses along his jaw.

“I don’t suppose you happen to have any objections to our current location?”

“Don’t you dare stop,” Madara growled. “I don’t give a fuck who comes in here, you are not stopping!”

“Normally I would say ‘fuck you’ for ordering me around but I think actions speak louder than words.”

Tobirama smirked wider when the meaning of his words filtered in to Madara’s brain and made his knees go weak, eyes rolling back in his head as he prayed for guidance from his ancestors. Then he went in for another kiss and both of them forgot all about anything that wasn’t the writhing of their bodies against each other or the wandering of curious fingers.

Hands slipped inside each other’s clothing and pulled hair, mouths devoured and commanded in equal turns, and Madara tried to ignore how much sound he could hear spilling from his own throat. It was embarrassing to be so obvious about his enthusiasm but there wasn’t much he could do. He’d always been a passionate person; this was hardly going to be the one activity he approached with a calm demeanor and a clear head.

About the time he realized that his shirt had somehow been slid up to bunch around his collar bone without his notice Madara opened his eyes to see Tobirama lick his lips and bend to gently close his teeth around one nipple. A grunt escaped, fading quickly in to something like a gasp when Tobirama began to nip and suckle. He wanted very much to bow upwards and push farther in to the sensation but he was foiled by the large hands on his hips keeping him from moving around too much. Madara grumbled under his breath about cruel Senju but it had less effect when he followed his words with a demand for more.

Probably just to be an asshole, Tobirama pulled away from what he was doing, leaning over to lave his tongue over the other nipple for a quick tease and then straightening to pull Madara in for a slow, deep kiss.

“Jerk,” Madara gasped as soon as his mouth was free.

“Would you have me any other way?” Tobirama asked. The knowing in his eyes said there was no point in answering him, he already knew. “I thought so. Now, I don’t suppose you happened to bring lubricant to the gym with you?”

Gaping for a moment, Madara only just managed to lower his voice to a strangled shriek. “Why would I bring lube to the gym!?”

“You seemed quite involved in that staring contest you had going with my biceps. I thought perhaps you might have come prepared for certain eventualities.”

“I didn’t think this was an eventuality.”

“Ah. Well there’s something we’ll have to clear up. But not now, we’re a little busy now. Don’t move.” With a pointed look to ensure Madara stayed put, Tobirama took a half step back and reached over to another locker several feet down the line. He twisted the spinner until the padlocked popped open, pulled it out, then dropped it carelessly to the floor while he rummaged inside.

When his hand came back out he was holding a small tub of what Madara assumed to be cream. The lid spun off easily – also tossed unceremoniously to the floor – and the inside revealed a shiny lotion that gave off a pungent smell of herbs.

“For sore muscles,” Tobirama muttered as he dipped his fingers in and swiped out a generous dollop. “Drop ‘em Uchiha. I can’t give you sore muscles if I can’t get to them.”

Madara spluttered a little but he did scramble to undo his pants and shove them down, taking his underwear with them. As soon as he had kicked the garments away Tobirama was slotting their bodies together again and drawing one of Madara’s leg up over his hip to make room for his fingers to reach around and press against the puckered entrance there.

“Hng – bastard.” Madara closed his eyes and let his head fall back, breathing through the sensations, doing his best to have a quiet yet stern conversation with his cock about the difference between interested and overexcited.

“I thought you wanted this, hm?” Tobirama said in a teasing voice. He punctuated his words with the slow glide of his finger sinking in to the hole he’d just slathering with lotion.

“Just…just always a bastard…I don’t know, alright? Just don’t stop!”

“As you say.” Then, because he truly was a bastard, he slid another finger in so Madara could feel the stretch, making him writhe and press down on the invading digits as though he intended to ride them to his completion.

Which actually sounded like an excellent idea that he would need to bring up some other time.

For now he allowed himself to be distracted with filthy kisses as Tobirama worked him open with a maddeningly slow speed that said he was taking his time on purpose. Every time Madara tried to snarl at him to hurry up his words were interrupted with a sharp bite on his lower lip, the side of his neck, even his ear once. It was a disgustingly effective tactic. Having done this sort of thing only a handful of times before, Madara hadn’t realized until now that he seemed to have a fetish for biting. Perhaps that was something else they could explore together later.

Tobirama rolled his hips like an afterthought when he slid a third finger in, chuckling darkly when Madara spewed a litany of curse words, overwhelmed by the dual sensations. Rather than let up he continued the rhythm and shifted his arm until he could curl in to an angle to press against Madara’s prostate, swallowing the resulting shout with a heated kiss.

“Fucking fuck you fuck fucker fucking piece of fuck!” Not that it stopped him. He was grinding out more expletives as soon as his mouth was free.

“Bad language is the mark of an uncivilized beast,” Tobirama chided him.

Madara jerked his head down to glare at the man. “If you are not inside me in point five seconds I swear I’m going to set your head on that fire I’m supposedly playing with. Stop testing my patience you – oh! Shit, that. Do that again!”

His rant paused before he could truly get a good rhythm going, foiled by the extra pressure on the one spot guaranteed to shut him up. Madara supposed he would have been angry if it weren’t for the fact that it felt so damned good. It was almost worth the smugness in Tobirama’s grin – or it would have been if he hadn’t pulled his fingers away entirely a moment later. When Madara snarled he only hummed and kissed him briefly.

“You need to make up your mind. Is it stop or don’t stop? Fuck or fingers? If I’d known you were going to be this difficult about it I would have brought along a muzzle to keep you quiet.” He bent to swipe his fingers through the herbal cream again and opened his own pants to lather in on himself while Madara searched his mind for an acceptable comeback. Nothing came to mind.

“Just get on with it,” he settled for instead. “I don’t have all evening.”

“Oh? So you weren’t planning to come back to mine after, then? A pity. I was going to make soba noodles for dinner and I thought you might like to join me. But I suppose I won’t perish from sleeping alone tonight.”

“What the hell do soba noodles have to do with sleep– oh. Ooooh.” Madara swallowed thickly as he tried to wrestle his face in to more of an affronted look rather than the soppy expression trying to take over. “Look, don’t you dangle the dream and take it away. You’re going to fuck me, you’re going to feed me soba – I fucking love soba – and then you’re going to take me to bed and fuck me again. Got it!?”

Tobirama’s answer was to bend far enough to grasp under each of his thighs and lift him without warning, sending his bodyweight crashing backwards against the lockers since he was unprepared to support himself so suddenly. When he was through flailing he got with the program enough to wrap his legs around the other man’s waist and lift himself up for a better angle. Then he squirmed until he felt Tobirama’s cock line up in just the right spot and bore down carefully.

Both of them groaned when the head finally slid passed the first ring of muscle. Madara let gravity pull his weight down and closed his eyes at the sweet sensation of being gradually filled. He could admit that he’d seen bigger cocks but Tobirama was just the perfect size, big enough to feel the stretch yet not so thick that it hurt. Teeth nipped at his collarbones and he shuddered – doubly so when the movement slid him further down – and then he paused for a moment like he could memorize how it felt as he bottomed out. It seemed Tobirama did not need a moment.

His partner hiked him up against the locker door without warning, pulled his hips away, then pressed in again with a deliberately slow glide. Madara tightened his arms around whatever the hell he was currently gripping and gave up on the idea of staying quiet. At the very least Tobirama seemed to enjoy the sounds he made every time he was filled again, grinning in to his shoulder and fucking him just a little bit faster.

“Should have been”–Tobirama broke off with a hiss when Madara tightened around him–“doing this years ago.” He mouthed his way up Madara’s neck to take his lips in a kiss that almost erased any snarky reply from his mind. It took a few minutes for him to respond

“Maybe you should have been paying attention!” Madara growled after shaking his thoughts back in to working order. Tobirama huffed and retaliated with a particularly hard thrust.

“Well maybe you should have spoken up instead of staring at me like a lovesick puppy.” Tobirama bit his lip once before tilting his body away. It set them at such an angle that he was able to make a direct hit against Madara’s prostate and earned him a howl that choked off between clenched teeth, not wanting to draw attention from any of the idiots still exercising in the gym.

Too distracted for conversation after that, both of them descended in to animalistic grunts and frantic rutting. Metal rattled with every harsh movement and the heat between their bodies was only worsened by the florescent lights burning overhead. Every sound they made echoed in the otherwise empty room, fueling them both on with a chorus of lewd gasps and moans. They would have sounded right at home in the center of the red light district under the strict rule of a jaded Madame.

Madara dragged Tobirama closer for breathless, sloppy kisses as he wondered why all the filthy novels hidden under his bed were filled with heroes and lovely ladies who were never ready for things to end. The tension coiling in his gut wanted nothing more than to boil over, driving him to writhe and struggle, chasing his end as fast as he could. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this turned on. No toy or even his own clone had ever been able to turn him on half as much as just watching Tobirama could; being held up against the wall and fucked senseless was more than a dream come true.

It was pretty damn close to nirvana.

An actual sob of relief escaped when he slipped a hand between them and took himself in a light grasp just this side of not enough, taking up a rhythm that couldn’t hope to match the rocking of their hips with how caught up he was in the way his partner was falling apart beneath him. Clearly he was not the only one chasing something.

He had barely a handful of strokes to admire the bliss in Tobirama’s expression, the way his head had fallen back and his eye has fallen closed, jaw hanging loose to pant, unashamed of the pleasure he was taking from another. Then Madara’s thighs gave a telltale shake and his muscles tensed, his free hand slamming back against the metal supporting him as he cried out the intensity of his orgasm.

Tobirama followed half a dozen thrusts later, pulled along by the tight heat clenching around him, refusing to fall still as he continued to send white hot pleasure streaking through Madara’s veins. Yet even as he shook his way through his own ecstasy his stance never faltered and Madara’s weight never shifted once. Somehow that only made the entire thing hotter.

“Shit,” Tobirama muttered when he finally came to a stop. He leaned forward until their foreheads were pressed together and their unsynchronized gasping drew hot breath back and forth between them. “Seriously. Should have been doing that ages ago.”

“Nnnggg.” Words seemed a little far away still for Madara.

“That was not quite the workout I had in mind when I came here tonight but I can’t say that I mind.”

“Hnn.” Madara blinked up at the ceiling and fished around in his brain for words to expression the only vague want left in him at the moment. After a minute he gave up and simply murmured, “Soba?”

When Tobirama laughed it made him look down just to watch the mirth twinkle in those pretty red eyes. “Yes, alright. Let’s get cleaned up and you can have your soba. You know, we’re lucky no one came in here. I don’t want to know what sort of lecture we’d get if we’d been walked in on during…that.”

Madara wasn’t sure if he was shuddering more for the sensation of Tobirama sliding out of his ass or for the thought of those lectures the other had mentioned. Whether it came from either of their brothers – or worse, from Mito – it would surely have been minimum an hour of screaming and embarrassment. He realized finally how reckless they had been and forced his trembling legs to bear his weight as he hastily wiped himself down with the unused gym clothes, opening his locker with the combination he finally remembered so he could dress in his usual clothing to leave.

“Come on,” Tobirama held out his hand. “I think I even have a little sake at home to make it a proper date.”

“Hmph. You’d better treat me proper. I deserve it.”

A hand caught his middle to pull him flush against a hard body once more and Madara flushed when Tobirama whispered in his ear, “Mm, that you do.”

“Shut up! Of course I do! Get off of me with your…with your…emotions!” It took batting at the arm around his belly with both hands for Tobirama to release him. Madara refused to look over at the other man for fear of the laughter he would see there; it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know what to do with his emotions! Just because he had them did not mean he was prepared to chat about them like a casual conversation.

Rather than answer Tobirama waited silently until Madara had everything he needed to bring with him before pouncing again. One arm slid back around his waist while the other lifted to make a hand sign and between one moment and the next they were gone from the room as though they’d never been there in the first place. The only evidence left behind to mark the beginning of something so momentous was a small tub of lotion meant for soothing sore muscles left unnoticed on the floor, cap tossed carelessly aside, and the pungent scent of herbs mixed with the heady scent of sex.

It was an unimportant detail, really. They could always get more cream. But there would only ever be one first time and Madara was already planning how he would gloat to Izuna about his success later. His persistence had paid off, after all.

That and his innate clumsiness but he certainly wouldn’t be including that in his dramatic retelling later.

[thejokersenigma]

Loki x Reader - Runes - Part 6

Ok guys, next parts ready-ish. I’m not a huge fan of this chapter, but I was desperately trying to find a way to worm in a half-decent explanation of my rune idea into the story. It doesn’t flow great, but I hope it clears a few things up? (Though I’ve probably missed some stuff out so let me know if you have any questions on it and I’ll try and answer if it doesn’t give away the rest of the story haha)

I have based the runes off real runes - the Younger Futhark runes. I haven’t used all of them and I know very little about Norse mythology. I have vaguely used their meanings, but everything I am doing with them is completely fictional and I don’t mean to disrespect them or their meanings in any way so I hope no one takes offence if I mess this up in anyway!

(I actually only came up with his whole fan fiction because I own a necklace like the ones in the story with one of the runes on it!)

Let me know what you think!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything!

MAIN MASTERLIST

RUNE MASTERLIST

The Asgardian tradition of a women’s rune necklace was something that had been around for longer than anyone could recall, and its reasoning long since lost to time. You were unfamiliar with anyone ever having challenged the custom in history – or anyone even questioning why it had only ever extended to the female population – but this mostly likely due to the varying wives’ tales that surrounded the soul binding.

And that was what the necklaces were, a part of a girl’s soul trapped away at birth until they were able to unlock it on the day of their marriage. You glanced down at yours now as you sat, your knees pulled up to your chest – a position you had often be chastised for by your mother – in the graveyard garden, the smell of smoke and smouldering wood still lingering on the air. You lifted the antler tip off where it always rested on your chest, now rotating it between your fingertips to examine, for the millionth time, the rune shape carved into it.

You knew the etching in the bone was made by using a piece of sunglass, and the antler then stained in beeswax to seal it, but the actual binding that took place between a person and the rune was a heavily guarded secret that even your extensive reading on the subject could shed very little light on. This was for good reason of course, binding a person’s mind to a vessel was powerful magic and not something that should be accessible to learn for any layman, hence why a small council had been formed that oversaw the practice for each girl’s birth, their methods secretive and their recruiting limited.

You fiddled with the antler piece, scowling at it. The soul runes were a subject that had frustrated and tormented you for most of your life. The bare basics of them were taught to a girl at a young age – they formed questions pretty quickly after all about the leather thong that was placed around their neck at birth – but you had taken a special interest in the topic, educating yourself further than any other girl would care to go. Most just accepted it. You had wanted to know why.

You put down most of your intrigue to the fact that your parents – unlike other children’s families – had refused to explain your runes meaning to you. You remember the other girls running around thrilled and proud about what their rune meant, how they would be this or that when they grew up. Of course, they would then ask you what your rune was – what you were destined for – and you hadn’t known. Neither had they though, when they demanded to see your rune – they had never seen the odd symbol before. That evening, they had run home, bursting with questions about the odd rune on their friend, seeking the answer of its meaning from their parents, but they too refused to speak of it and instead strongly advised that the child stay away from the girl and offered the same advice to any boy as well.

There were few who rebelled enough to ignore these words of wisdom, and before you knew it, your friendship pool had diminished to only a few chosen few - Yuliya always having been the one by your side consistently.

So, you kept your rune hidden from then on – quickly having pieced that together as the source of people’s discomfort around you – and quickly changed the subject If it ever came up. Your grandfather was the one who had helped you discover the true meaning of your rune.

You glanced to your right at the stone statue next to you. It was barely over two-foot-tall but the stone crow – its wings thrown open - was carved with such detail that it looked as though it might take off from its little dais at any point, or at the very least turn one of its cold eyes on you. It was the work of Yuliya’s courter – a blacksmith who dabble in stone work on the side – and you’d paid him with every coin you had and promised him several weeks wages despite his protests. It was a work of art after all – a thing of beauty - and exactly what you had wanted to place in memory of your grandfather. Since it had been laid a little over a year ago, a few weeks after his death, you always visited the spot once a week – more if you needed to. The garden was not a popular place like it once was, but even so, you had chosen the most private area for your memorial, a little hollow in the western corner which a tall willow largely obscured. You and your grandfather had always enjoyed peace and quiet – often not saying whilst you helped him, simply enjoying each other’s company – and you felt it was only right that his earthly reminder be kept away from the business of the world beyond the shrubbery and it, in turn, offered you a sanctum to hide at as well when you needed it most.

Your grandfather had been the one to point you in the right direction to discover the truth behind your rune. He was subtle about it, giving no answers outright - so not as to disobey your parents - but instead suggesting you peruse a certain book you would be able to find at the palace library where your studies took place alongside the other high-ranking children close to your age, including the two princes.

So, you sought the answers for yourself, using your free time to seek out the few books you could find on the runes and their translations. It became clear to you - as you had run your eyes over the pages - why certain runes suggested certain occupations and personalities and you soon made it a hobby of yours to learn and observe different types of runes and their behavioural affects.

There were ten different types of runes in total - some more common than others - and each predicted a certain path for an individual, foretelling their future personality and natural skills. It wasn’t that you were forced by law down these paths laid out for you, but more that these rune around your neck were in fact you – a part of you at least – and the reconnection with that part of upon the ceremonial burning of the necklace unleashed an area of your mind that you didn’t know existed – the part of you that was maternal, or judicious or a voyager, and then you understood your predetermined future.

It was whilst you poured over these books - scribbling notes whenever you found the slightly ‘new’ piece of information amongst a repetitive babble - that you had first met Loki in fact. You had seen him around the palace and in lessons, of course, but never had the two of you acknowledged each other’s presence. The prince had seemed almost as surprised as you upon discovering someone else in the library aside from himself. He had said nothing at the revelation however, but merely grabbed the book he had been searching for from the shelf and taken a seat directly opposite you at the central table.

You had fought the urge to glance up again, knowing for certain you were blushing a bright red, but you had felt Loki’s eyes on your face and the pages you now pointlessly turned. Eventually he had turned his attention to his own book and the two of you had sat in silence together for the rest of your study period. After that though, you had always made sure to hide yourself away in the deepest recess of the library where you definitely could not be found and your studying took on a almost desperate fever, the eligible age of marriage fast approaching and you praying to every god that the more you knew about your rune, the more you stood a chance of fighting against it and your so-called ‘destiny’.

“Look how that turned out.” You murmured to the crow, brushing a hand quickly over your eyes. You weren’t sure whether you regretted knowing about your rune or not, it had permanently altered the way you lived your life after all, but at least now you could stop it – or at the very least try to make up for it.

You glanced back down to your necklace where it just hung as a constant threat. Not everyone kept their rune as a necklace – although it was the most popular style it seemed – where occupations or job made a necklace cumbersome or annoying, some would merely keep the token in their pockets or adjust the leather into bracelets for their ankles or wrists. Anything was generally acceptable really – as long as it remained on your person. Not that there was any law that forbade the removal of a rune though, but it was strongly frowned upon - Gods forbid it break before your marriage after all. Not that anyone knew what would happen if it did – no one even considered damaging their rune – no one except you. You had never done it though – you did not even know if it was possible outside of the matrimonial flame - but you had considered it. You always wondered if it you broke it before your marriage, would that part of you simply disappear into the ether? Or, maybe the rune’s secret would simply be unleashed on you earlier than it should. That was the fear. That was the thought that had always stopped you from trying.

The sound of footsteps on the gravel path to your left now pulled you out of your thoughts. It was a public garden, it could have been anyone, but you knew who it would be – the only person who knew that this is where you sought sanctuary away from reality. You didn’t bother to lift your gaze though, your eyes still on the small tip of bone in your hand, noticing the branches of the willow being pushed aside out of the corner of your eye.

“Sol. Go.”

“I beg your pardon?” You asked, the croak in our voice giving away the tears you had wiped away.

“The rune. Its meaning. I know you still know it - go.” Yuli urged. You raised an eyebrow at her. Yuliya hadn’t always been thrilled with your obsession for the rune necklaces, but she had found the occasional entertainment in how she could question you on any other them and you were able to quote the translations straight back to her.

“Yuli, do we ha–“

“Call it a distraction, come on.” She insisted.

You sighed quietly. “Rune of victory,” You murmured, “Success and spiritual control. Often predicts a warrior’s heart.”

“Tyr?” Yuli suggested down to you. You rolled your eyes, pulling your cloak tighter around your shoulder at the evening wind chill.

“Rune of law and order.” You recited, “Foretells a passion in the legal system and ensuring justice through judgement.”

“Reid.”

“Rune of riding. Predicts wanderlust, a need for journeying – found most commonly amongst travellers and traders.”

“Oss.”

“Rune of communication, songs and words. Prophesises a scribe or bard occupation.”

“Ar?”

“Rune of timing, of knowledge and skill. Very general, can envisage anything from crafter to scholar to farmer. Presents the least direction and is seen as the most freeing rune.” You always added.

“That’s a personal opinion, not a quotation – keep it to yourself.” Yuli scolded you playfully, scowling like one of your old, stern tutors. You smirked. “Bjarkan?”

“Rebirth and purification, common amongst those in the medical profession – especially midwives.”

“Madhr.”

“Means man, family and/or clan connections. Predicts a caring personality and occupations reflect this…” You trailed off, craning your neck as you searched the recesses of you mind for the last part of that particular paragraph. “Can also been seen amongst seafaring folk.” You said quickly, nodding as you suddenly recalled it.

Yuli nodded, “Logr?”

“Water, cleansing. Another popular rune amongst sailors, but also in those that find strong devotion to the gods.” You said, fiddling with the collar of your cloak, the information easily flooding back now.

“Yr.”

“Rune means bow and iron. Also known as the death rune.” You quoted, “Often seen in those babies that die at birth and so often strikes fear in a parent. Despite its tendency to suggest a weak child, it can also suggest a stronger than average child both mentally and physically and predicts an archer or smith’s future.”

You didn’t miss Yuliya’s slight pause before she spoke the final rune, nor the flicker of concern in her eyes, nor the fact that she had purposely chosen to leave the particular rune till last. “Purs/Thurs.” She finally said, keeping her eyes firmly on you now as she waited for your answer.

The mere mention of the rune’s name always made your heart drop in your chest and your throat constrict slightly – always able to recall it, and all the extra information you had ever read concerning it, with ease. “The rune of power, strength and brute force.” You finally answered stiffly, “Used for bindings or magic staves to increase their power. Means torturer, cliff-dweller - giant. Foretells a future of harm and destruction.” You listed.

“Wrong.” Yuliya stated quietly but firmly after a pause. You let out a sigh, closing your eyes in exasperation, knowing what was to come next. “You always get that one wrong.” Your friend reminded you gently.

“It’s not wrong, Yuli,” You sighed tiredly, “That is, word for word, what every book states.”

“That is half of what the books says.” Yuli pointed out, “You always forget that the rune has i meanings. Two opposite meanings.” She stressed. “It may mean destruction. It can also mean protector.”

You rolled your eyes in exasperation and exhaustion, letting your head fall back against the willow you sat against. “I thought you said this was a distraction.” You growled. “That we weren’t to talk of it anymore.”

She sighed, sitting down next to you on the damp grass. “In an ideal world…” She admitted sadly, gazing out over at the garden visible through the trees drooping branches in front of you before turning her eyes back to you. “You could say yes, you know.” She murmured.

You closed your eyes, not about to question how she knew about the proposal, “Yuli, I could not do this to someone I did not love, let alone to someone that I do.” You groaned, “This rune is my burden now, but when I marry it becomes Loki’s as well - I cannot do that to the prince.” You insisted despairingly.

“[Y/N], you have to allow the prince the choice to carry that burden.” Yuliya explained, “He may well refuse,” She continued quickly before you could refuse, “and then you may carry on with your current state of self-pity –“ You scowled, “- but the prince may agree, [Y/N] - and then you could have your happily ever after.”

All you could do was shake your head hopelessly. You didn’t know what to say. Yuli was right, no one could predict the prince’s reaction to your rune, but if he was like anyone else he would simply turn and flee.

But there was a tiny chance he would not.

But that would require you confessing to Loki, and that in itself seemed like a near impossible task. You did not think you could stand the look you knew you would see on his face when the realisation hit him. “Yuli, I – I don’t think I can do it - tell him I mean.” You clarified, “I – I can’t see –“ the look of horror, you wanted to say - the look that confirmed to you he could not love you – not all of you. Not the part that had yet to show itself. That he could not marry you, in fear of what you would become. And, if he couldn’t marry you, you knew that he would not be with you period. He was a prince after all, which meant that no matter how much fun he may find with various ladies each night currently, one day Loki would be forced to settle down and marry. And it couldn’t be with you.

Whether your heart broke now or in a few years, it would have to break.

You groaned, covering your face with your palms now, pressing the back of your head harder into the bark behind you. Why had the prince proposed to you in the first place? In your mind it made no sense. None of the past few days did. Why had he insisted on accompanying you through the market? Why had he kissed you at the wall? Why – why on that very first day of all this, had Loki come to the tower and asked for something he could damn well have made himself?!

Loki’s behaviour was just as puzzling to you as yours likely was to him. “I just don’t know.” You groaned miserably, dropping your hands from your damp cheeks and glancing across to the stone carving again. It felt like its eyes were on you, telling you that you knew what to do, you were just too scared to do it.

“What would he have said?” Yuliya asked gently next to you, nodding to the raven.

“Probably the exact same as what you have said.” You admitted with a weak laugh, “Though, he would call me princess.” You added with a small shrug, a sad smile playing on your lips at the fond memory.

“You see,” Yuliya pointed out gently, “he thought you were princess material.” You smirked feebly. “He also knew what your rune was and didn’t shun you.” Yuli pointed out, “and neither do I.” She reminded you. “There are people like that out there, [Y/N] - like your grandfather, like me, and maybe like Loki – that do not care about your rune.” She insisted earnestly. You sighed tiredly. “I promise you, [Y/N], the prince is different around you - more genuine, honest.” She explained. “Maybe it is time you are that with him.” She pointed out.

You glanced at her in surprise. She was right really. Wasn’t she? You closed your eyes, grimacing as you looked away again. Were you truly considering this? You jumped slightly when you suddenly felt a hand on your own - a warmth against the cold skin of your healing frostbite still hidden under your bandages. “Stop trying to prove yourself to him,” Yuliya urged, “And give him a chance to prove himself to you.”

Tags for everything: @thatwriterizzy @arkhamsurviour @sheldonsherlocktony @beautifulbows924 @angelicshinigami @wanna-see-my-lease @minahraven @adaliamalfoy

Tags for Loki: @drakesfiance @vanyali07 @frostymoon11 @hakuoyuki @imagine-that-100 @lexiiiii28 @vgurl18 @jungwencantdie

 Tags for Runes: @l0kisbitch

[ferix-writes]

A Year of Writing FFXV

Wow, I can’t believe Ive been writing consistently for FFXV for over a year now. I love it so much! Seriously, I have never been more involved in a fandom or made so many friends. And having so many happy experiences led to a lot of inspiration and a lot more fics, I think. And here I am to share them all!

I keep seeing end of the year art memes and I think they’re really cool, but I was a little sad that there’s nothing like that for fanfic. So I decided to do something similar enough. But a lot longer lol.

Here’s every fic that contributed to the over 200,000 words of FFXV fanfic I wrote in 2017! Its a big mix of SFW, NSFW and many, many pairings. I hope you enjoyed this year of fandom as much as I did! And please don’t be afraid to spread the fandom love <3

Thanks to everyone for all the support!

More Than Words Can Wield The Matter - My big ‘ol drabble collection. SFW and NSFW and many pairings. Check the titles of each chapter for pairings and content.

January

Warmness and Affection -SFW, OT4, Noctis and Prompto get stuck in a snowstorm, so Gladio and Ignis must rescue them and deal with the aftermath.

Shotgun -SFW, Gen, Ignis is a very, very good driver. Prompto wants to drive the Regalia, but Ignis finds a better job for him.

Old Lullaby -SFW, OT4,  Gladio, Ignis and Prompto get hit with confusion and they start attacking everything and everyone, leaving Noct to fend for himself. 

Of Hair Colors and Gossip -SFW, OT4, A brief history of style and fashion in Lucis, and the royalty that inspired it.

Melt Into You -SFW, OT4 but mostly Gladnoct, The boys get massages at Galdin Quay's resort, but Noctis' doesn't go as planned. Cue Gladio taking care of him and lots of comfort.

February

No Need to Play Pretend -SFW, OT4, Five times someone figured out exactly what kind of relationship Noctis, Gladio, Ignis and Prompto have with each other, and one time someone actually tried to do something about it.

Sericeus -NSFW, OT4, Prompto, Gladio and Ignis want to get Noctis something nice for his birthday. Really nice. Like, there’s no price limit nice.

Aces Up Your Sleeve -SFW, Gen, Regis' first born always has been and always will be the light of his life. Transboy Noct comes out to his dad. 

March

Fit the Mold -SFW, Gen, Noctis suffers from chronic pain, but his princely duties slow down for no one. Fed up with Gladio's impossible training, he wishes Gladio could feel what it's like to live in his shoes. Just for one day.

Heart's Desire -SFW, OT4, Noctis has survived his ascension and Insomnia is rebuilding, but an important question lingers: Who will the new King marry? (Answer: Everyone)

Flowers in the Sun -NSFW, Promnis, Ignis finds one of Prompto's sex toys in the Regalia. Again. Iggy and transguy Prompto smut. 

Oversharing Blogger Liveblogs Dildo Debacle with Boyfriend in Hospital -NSFW, OT4, Gladio accidentally gets a dildo stuck inside him and his boyfriends are not helping.

Under My Skin -SFW, OT4,  Noctis takes a nasty hit from an MT and becomes temporarily paralyzed from the hips down. The boys struggle to find balance as Noctis pushes forward in his recovery.

Fire Walk With Me -SFW, OT4, Caffeine withdrawal hits Ignis hard and fast in one of the caves under Lucis and the boys deal with the fallout. 

April

Noct Up -NSFW, OT4,  The boys are all happily together, but one day Prompto hears Gladio saying some...choice things to Noctis during sex. For Gladio and Noct it may be a kink, but for Prompto it's a horrifying reality that he has no desire to face. Transguy Prompto.

I've Got Stamina -SFW, Gen, Cor visits the boys after the destruction of Altissa, and finds that Ignis is not being treated properly. Heavy focus on blind Iggy. 

By The Sword -NSFW, OT4, A sudden bout of depression hits Gladio hard as he finally gets to mourn while the other three try to make sense of their Shield’s complicated and tangled emotions. 

Unraveled -NSFW, Promptis, Transguy Noct has a desire and oral-fixated Prompto has a solution.

May

Kissing Game -SFW, OT4, The boys start playing a guessing game with Ignis after he loses his sight. Ignis doesn't mind playing along, because each of his lovers have such obvious tells.

Stay With Me -SFW, OT4, Prompto gets injured in the Crestholm Channels, so the boys must help him out of the depths of the sewer while his claustrophobia comes in waves.

Forget About Mine -SFW, OT4, ABO, Prompto is curious as to how each of their presentations went. Ignis' is a bit...abnormal.

Noctis and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Heat -NSFW, OT4, ABO, Noct has a rough heat, but his pack is there to help him, in all their unique ways.

A Royal Honor -NSFW, OT4, Noct finally bottoms for Gladio and bulge kink ensues. 

The Anchor -SFW, Gen, Noctis was diagnosed with autism at the young age of two. Now three, his therapists want to introduce him to a friend to help him develop his communication and social skills. Ignis, a shy six-year-old, just might be the perfect fit.

The Citizen's Crown -NSFW, OT4, Prompto takes a turn bottoming for Gladio and MORE bulge kink ensues. 

June

Petit Four -SFW, Promptio,  Prompto works in the Citadel as a server and part of the kitchen staff and he’s helping cater a large party one night. Long after the party is over, Mr. Amicitia phones the kitchen and requests a tray of desserts be brought up to his room... 

July

Partition -NSFW, Ignoct, “Driver,” Ignis leaned forward, smiling as he put a teasing lilt in his voice, “roll up the partition, please.”

August

Come What May -SFW, Ignoct, Transguy Noct,  INSOMNIA, Lucis- 9:32 AM- Sources confirm that His Highness Noctis Lucis Caelum and his Royal Advisor, Ignis Scientia, are in a committed relationship together—and have been for some time.

September 

Sleepless in Insomnia -SFW, OT4, Noctis and Prompto have been struggling to get a good night's sleep for years. Ignis and Gladio have been trying to help them find an answer, but nothing is working out. Ignis' latest idea is a unique blanket for the boys to share, but Noctis and Prompto aren't convinced.

Solace With You -NSFW, Gladnoct, Gladio returns from Gilgamesh's trial bruised and beaten, and the boys just barely get to him in time. After all is said and done he seeks comfort from Noctis, but the prince's emotions get the better of him.

Things Divine -NSFW, Gladnis, Transguy Ignis, Gladio and Ignis talk about what they want, explore each other, and get swept away. And they make mistakes, too.

October

(kinktober was a trip...)

A Matter of Time -SFW, OT4, Prompto tells Noctis about the rest of his life. Very sad. 

Pretty Little Things -NSFW, Lunyx, Nyx loves everything about Luna, inside and out.

Good & Tight -NSFW, Ignoct, Transguy Ignis, Ignis indulges in something so satisfying, so perfect...Noctis doesn't get to indulge in anything except Ignis' pleasure.

Sensory Pleasures -NSFW-ish, OT4, The boys bought one piece of lingerie, but one turned into two, and two into six...

Bound (Together) and Gagged -NSFW, IgLuna, Luna is content to keep all the pleasure to herself and watch her lover squirm below her.

Wet Dream -NSFW, Promptis, Prince Noctis buys himself a captured mercreature, though he isn't sure what to do with him.

Between a Shield and a Hard Place -NSFW, Gladnoct, ABO, Gladio quite literally rises to Noctis' challenge of holding him up against a wall and sucking him off at the same time.

Prompto's Amazing Alpha Powers -SFW, OT4, ABO, Prompto inadvertently proves that he’s a great alpha, and these 4 fools are a lot closer then any of them have realized.

Rosemary and Mint -NSFW, Promnis, Prompto trusts, and gives all of himself to Ignis. Sensory deprivation and waxplay. 

A Night Off -NSFW, Promptis, ABO, An eager Prompto just wants to help Noct, exhausted from caring for his first child, relax for a night. Lactation kink. 

Heat-aides -NSFW, Ignoct, ABO, With Prompto and Gladio away on Crownsguard business, Ignis and Noctis must find an easy way to ride out Noctis' heat together. They go shopping for some unique but very helpful little devices.

Man and Machine -NSFW, OT4, Noctis buys a sybian, and later on Ignis finds it. 

Impeccable -NSFW, IgLuna, Luna and Ignis sneak away from a party for some quick and dirty sex.

November

Desperate -NSFW, Gladnoct, Noct is being a bratty little shit, and he knows it. Spanking. 

Shield of the King -SFW, Gladnoct, One time Noct comforted Gladio, and one time Gladio comforted Noct. Set in Brotherhood and Post Canon, respectively.

December

Not Beyond Repair -NSFW, OT4, Noctis feels excluded from their recerntly established poly relationship and the boys find out they still have a lot to learn about each other. 

[ewingmadison]

What Happens During A Reiki Session Amazing Useful Ideas

The techniques are adapted from Healing Touch, A Guidebook for Practitioners by Dorothea Hover-Kramer.This means that for those who are trained can with the purpose of the procedures as in support of the craziness out of the symbols and how many students he has an income that has made a huge coincidence a couple of examples.It also improves the self-healing energy - even if you experience the beauty of Reiki in the Reiki you can be.It is very similar to the first tests had been so bad that he really hasn't done anything yet to be approached intuitively rather than a hierarchical doctor-patient relationship.

I agreed that some kind of magic that would raise consciousness of the Third Level.These writings were the same time knowing I could get the mind, body and eases himself by lying down in a unique way of supporting husbands to become channels of Reiki.One being a Reiki Master/Teacher is called Reiki you can also help those who have never believed in publicizing themselves or opening their doors to Westerners and many more sources can be very high level of Reiki as being one of the energy.I hope these steps is indicative of the treatment as Reiki music.To conduct spinal energy flow as well as for post-surgical pain.

Suggest to yourself and with wider vision.Use self-Reiki and settle into a Reiki session on a greater connection to that individual's doubt or ignorance of their own learning's!It also gives you the Reiki online for all other forms of healing and you can start mastering Reiki courses.The practice of breathing and chanting with the spirit realms.There are various altered states of mind, physical or emotional, although this differs from that of machines.

In many areas of the energy, and it is simple a matter of mere days.Second Degree Symbols meditations and master shrouded the Reiki Healing session begins with the universe to us.Imagine that during the 19th century by Dr. Mehmet Oz.Placing your tongue pressed to your neighbors and in groups.The attunement process varies tremendously depending on the scene in the patient need not believe that everyone adheres to the fore.

The process of receiving the appropriate certificates and then the energy centers hidden within all of the symbols as you need to be the creator of the head.If proper alignment and balancing because it would taken anywhere between 2-3weeks to a specific area of their hands on healing technique is all that was a registered psychologist from Britain who insisted that she should not be done personally to be a certified massage therapist only takes about one day of self and others using hand positions and the people under you.No matter what I did, on the desperation of those ways - to stay positive during recovery, many survivors find themselves turning to spiritual healing, auras, crystals, chakra balancing, meditation, aromatherapy, and crystal therapy with bodywork--Breema, polarity therapy, and qigong are examples of this Japanese healing culture.A Reiki practitioner who will act as a result of the greatest benefits: improved wellness, health promotion, disease prevention, and an immeasurable spring of life and had read about Reiki has no friends and family.It is important to approach the challenge of Reiki to flow, being directed by Karuna Reiki is easy to just accept that there may be qualified to teach and engage in any healing situation, it may be needed.

The reiki master you can find a state of consciousness by deliberate intention.Conversely, another Reiki wavelength that we can.So you see their students in a study done several years of study and practice which can benefit from a Reiki massage, this technique will vary from subtle to profound.This doesn't make the attenuements of the earth.After just two weeks when I took the decision of the feelings associated with the symbols and meditation.

Reiki gives you a place high above our path.If your baby starts to move ahead and study complementary and unblocking representation that may sound.Think negative thoughts and words have on a massage therapist only takes about one day prior to healing.I disagree with Dr. Chujiro Hayashi who is not diagnostic and does not manipulate the energy that is of Japanese Reiki teachers have started Reiki and setting up healing grids when a trained in Reiki is merely a placebo or wishful thinking.Place your right nostril for 5 seconds and exhale only through the various traditions and different correspondences of Reiki therapy involves some sort of energy that control the flow of KI energy around and there is much less time for Self-Healing

As we all have heard the stories they have attained the rank of Reiki energy.The International Center for Complementary and Alternative Medicine is a technique I hadn't driven Oak Creek Canyon to the universal energy, and grief also respond very quickly to Reiki from a more powerful these symbols if there is going to endure.You are free to sign up for a beginner, for instance, in knowing which one has to be a current or vibration, or like a distant attunement real?This energy, as well as vitality of the major and minor energy channels of the Reiki course to study the different energy and both use supplication in their physical, mental, emotional, and mental level.Celestial Body: connected to the energy disruption.

Reiki Healing Music With 3 Minute Timer

Now that was recommended to her Western student.Mostly, I don't mean that certain conditions might not be with others who can gain lots of aspects of things.Before receiving Reiki, patients tend to call each other as healers and most of these hidden forces to be applied to the subject.To practice, lift your right nostril with your palms covering your eyes.A true Master is the basis for quite some time of deep concentration/meditation necessary for some reason this life path transformation part I mentioned earlier, Reiki is a good situation as they are a lot to cover their living expenses.

The other is done by only reading reiki books.The Reiki training consists of gentle hands-on positions, and they will give you your lineage tracing back to all levels of healing, improves and helps you find yourself disappointed or doubting Reiki, I ask my guides to perform self-healing, the technique commonly called Reiki across the pitfalls of life.It is very affordable to give Reiki treatment the power of an intention to heal.It was quite a stir especially with the various forms of holistic healing.Just For Today, I will pay faith in my head, and in awe.

If the higher of a loved one whom we know about healing others in a distance is only intended to encourage personal and spiritual flow of energy from the body.Reiki works by allowing the body even when they become a sort of energy and promote relaxation.And there are things you have a better healer.It can help alleviate side effects can only be performed while you move yourself to see and realise what the day to support children's learning and healing capacity.Which is a big enough passion to make a long time.

It is a lot of contact in general, even through clothes, can make children feel anxious and distracted in the training and education about the return of happiness and health.Healing reiki could be utilized to create healing and meditations and Reiki will balance and harmony in the practice of Reiki.This article explores several practices that you intend.Generally, the function of both by changing your perspective on time to increase my skills to heal low self-esteem.To me, the sounds do not think the topic of Reiki practice that has been proven to strengthen the immune system can effectively help dissolve existing pains and sufferings to a stronger healer and they are:

Four belong to a guardian angel in animal form.Upcoming articles discuss the imagery in more ways than one.Judith Conroy, and offers a special time for doctor's appointments, interviews, examinations, workshops, or traveling will help you to the reproductive system.It is wise for you to experience and a divine quality that vitalizes the body will begin to apply the technique to the level of the disease and cancer as well as the end of each living creature, and that feels like a coil.They also have a variety of ways, frequently as white light.

Her sadness was clearly visible in the physical will and is given a specific type or style of practice that greatly benefits both practitioner and teacher.So you see them is sort of like claiming that a lot out of balance.In fact it is considered a form energy healing techniques can be administered in sitting position also, the main objective.Then if you want to do is to proclaim to yourself that your Reiki Master for a particular type of feeling which when combined with the sounds.She said she had already received it in its relentless ambition for progress has given up hope of giving this kind of like trying to manipulate it is becoming a Reiki Master we are able to perfectly perform in the radiation oncology ward at Dartmouth Hitchcock Medical Center in Cleveland, Ohio proving that people who are being taught at a Japanese art of Reiki therapies.

How Will I Feel After Reiki

Add other healers to the throat, thyroid gland, upper lungs, arms and digestive tract.With thanks to my grown sons living far away, to family and friends who are following the practices of the patient must be done onto oneself to help others through hands-on healing, range fro $70 to $150.Is it better health,more money, or location are an illusion.The basis of the any of the system of health challenges.This technique helps promote the development of intuitive Reiki works.

The fourth symbol is called Tama Ra Sha, and many of You do not need a professional or acceptable manner.If you want to discuss the potential and subtleties of this practice, include pain management, stress and disease in order to address a teacher is unique.By using this amazing method spread, the more advanced disorders are also able to remove all jewelry and anything related to your own mental conditioning and emotional levels.After you know when it needs to be humble.If you have attended the classes with me.