#drew this so so fast. not good enough to go on the art blogs once again but just imagine it in your mind

[marsdemo]

[chasingpj]

𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫

pairing: leo valdez x child of iris!reader

requested?: yes!

translation: full of color

warnings: uhh, mentions of mental health and ?? maybe some typos lmao

category: headcanons, fluff, best friends to lovers

pre-relationship

though, leo saw you around camp often, you caught interest in him before he caught interest in you

i mean, he literally couldn't miss you because your outfits were always bright, whether it was a combination of colors or monochromatic

you and your siblings actually look like a rainbow threw up on you guys, and it's honestly iconic

no one at camp can not notice the children of iris, especially when they're in a herd

one day, you were sitting alone at a picnic table near the lake, and you found yourself drawing him in your sketchbook

you sketched a portrait of him while he spoke to piper at a table nearby

you've always found the floppy curls and how his brightest smiles always look a little manic to be adorable

when you sketched his portrait in your notebook, you didn’t intend for him ever to see it

until a couple of weeks later in the arts and crafts center, leo passed by and caught sight of a new project you were working on

he stopped in his tracks to compliment your drawing

since you were nowhere near done with it, you couldn’t admire the piece as much as he was

but his enthusiasm was so endearing

he politely asked if he could see more, and you didn’t hesitate to slide over your sketchbook

he noticed a lot of your drawings were scenery and people at camp; especially your siblings

he stumbled across a detailed sketch of a woman and her child sitting in a bus

“wow… who’s this?”

“oh, I don’t know. It was just a little girl I saw on the train with her mother.”

“so you just drew her?”

you never realized how weird your habit of drawing random people was until he had asked

you giggled nervously, quick to explain yourself, “I tend to draw people or things that I find beautiful. I wanted to capture how calm and happy she was with her child ‘cause at the time, I was stressed and angry. Watching and drawing her made me calm.”

leo nodded, a faint smile on his lips before looking back down at the drawing. “that’s really cool,” he complimented, and you shifted in your seat, suddenly shy.

And then it hit you

you were so willing to show leo all your works that you had completely forgotten that his portrait was in that book

your pulse thumped loud in your ears, mind racing to figure out a way to take away your sketchbook before he could see it

you ended up spending so long thinking of what to do that he arrived on the page in no time

right before he could see the drawing in its entirety, you slammed the book closed and snatched it

leo’s startled expression turned into a mischievous smirk

“was that me?”

you froze in your place; a squeaky sound escaped your throat in your embarrassment

leo’s brown eyes sparkled as he leaned into you, your gaze fixed on his, “y/n, you think I’m beautiful?”

AHHHH!

^^ that was you in your head btw

leo laughed, amused at your attempt to deny it

“then why did you snatch it away?” he raises an eyebrow before reaching over quickly to grab the sketchbook back

you didn't pull it out of his reach fast enough, leo getting a grip on one side

the two of you pull it back and forth, leo laughing at you as you continued to deny what he saw

though you were incredibly embarrassed, you couldn't contain the laughter bubbling in your chest

gods, of course, this would happen to me, you thought

he got it out of your grip, and you sighed in defeat, watching him flip to the page of him and piper

he was quiet, studying the picture for a second before giving you that playful smirk

“you think I’m beautiful?” he asked again

you playfully rolled your eyes, “it was more piper than you.”

your tone was sarcastic, only fueling leo’s banter with you

“oh really?” he chuckled to himself, “but i’m the only one colored in.”

you were silent at his observation before scoffing, “whatever.”

leo only laughed as you take the book away from him

“don’t you have somewhere to be, fire boy?” you asked and nudged his shoulder

the glint in your eyes made him smile, and he shrugged, “i guess i do. i'll see you around."

you nodded, too shy to do anything else, and he walked off

after that, leo took it upon himself to talk to you every day

leo teased you about the drawing all the time, and he found the way you would play along to be funny

before you both fell in love, you were close friends

you had such an optimistic point of view about life, and it was pretty contagious

somehow when leo was in the dumps about something, you always knew what to say

you were just so easy to talk to, and because of this, your friendship just grew naturally

your first kiss was towards the end of summer

leo invited you to hang out with him in bunker nine at, specifically, 6 pm

you teasingly asked if it was a date, and you remember the way he tensed up a bit

with a mumble, he asked, "what if it is?"

from the tone in his voice, you knew he wasn’t joking

in fact, his tone was hesitant, a part of him was expecting you to reject him

then the heavy pit in his stomach turned light when you smiled and said, "then I'm down."

the grin leo gave you made your heart flutter like crazy

your first date consisted of eating snacks and watching a movie on one of those portable DVD players

You picked up on the tension between you and him, and noticed the opportunities for a kiss kept passing

it was until Leo walked you to your cabin that night did you have a moment of boldness and asked, "so are you going to kiss me or?"

leo's eyes widen in surprise before his face broke out in the familiar smirk he gives when he flirts with you

you rolled your eyes playfully and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into you

your first kiss was sweet and soft; a little awkward

his hands hovered over your sides for a second, not sure what to do with them until he decided to rest them on your waist

it was the perfect way to mark the beginning of your relationship

relationship

since you guys are both broke teenagers, you got creative with date nights

you came up with the idea of paint splattering with him

you guys got canvases, covered the walls and floors with plastic to make sure you didn't dirty them

then you filled water balloons with paint and just threw them

despite you guys singing and dancing around in the midst of it, the canvases came out so good

and to commemorate the beginning of your relationship, you hung them up side by side in bunker nine, and when you guys get a place together, you hang them up in the hallway of your apartment

leo is a huge gift giver; as i’ve said before in my “how he shows he loves you” headcanons

he’s made you a lot of things; canvases, jewelry, little trinkets with scrap metal

one of your favorite gifts from him is a suncatcher with rainbow quartz

you fell in love with it and when you move in together, you make sure to hang it up in the kitchen with the bunch of other suncatchers that he’s made you

i love the idea that you would attempt to bring more color in his wardrobe

a lot of his clothes are muted in color; you don’t mind it but you were interested to see what he’d look like in a colorful outfit like yours

To say the least, he was not that enthusiastic and maybe, you shouldn’t have put him in a monochromatic orange outfit but… you still thought he looked cute

leo thought he looked like a traffic cone though so it didn’t stick

it’s okay because you like him the way he is anyways

another thing is that you guys are super supportive of each other and leo loves just how you manage to lift his mood

once leo was having a bad mental health week

you guys were sitting under a tree, looking out at the water

his head laid on your shoulder and small sniffles came from the other

it hurt to see him like this and you wished you could do more to make him feel better

then you had the greatest idea to make a rainbow for him

so you did

leo was so stunned when he saw the rainbow form over the lake

he looked at you surprised and when you admitted to making the rainbow for him, the emotion on his face was indescribable

and then you laughed and held him when he started crying because he said it was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him

another time, you insisted that meditation would be good for him

he literally sat down for like 3 minutes with his eyes closed before he was itching to get up and do something

even when he was sitting down, he was still bouncing his legs and fidgeting

so that fell through too but you still helped him in other ways and he’s so grateful for your optimism and bubbly personality

leo always says that you bring color to everything; literally and figuratively

one of the things you bring color to is his life

and he’s constantly reminding you of this; that his world just feels brighter now that you’re around

and it’s literal too

since you painted the walls of bunker nine a bright orange

he asked you why orange, and you told him because orange encourages productivity, creativity, and most importantly, optimism

it may have also reminded you of the orange outfit you put him into

anyways, you told him that it hurt you to see him get down in the dumps, and you insisted there was no way he could be sad in a bright orange room

needless to say, you were kinda right

masterlists taglist: @nct127bee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @cartocns @slytherclaw-kitten @idk-bye-no @percysbluehairbrush @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @drayshadow @ashookykooky @anything-forourmoony @loverstyless @yelenabel0vaswife @ohmydamgods @jordannfields @amy-writes-blog @muted-mayham @dreamerball @earthtokace @thehighladyofday @lala-llama123 @tootsdoll @slytherindaughterofposeidon0 @black-rose-29 @somekidnamedkai @possiblylostchasecousin @hamdehlesmis @cami05sworld @does-anyone-hear-me @sol-the-salmon

if your username is bolded that means i can’t tag you ! you probably have your visibility settings on!

[weelittleweasley]

bar maid (b.w.)

prompt: a long night at the leaky cauldron and the late shift can only mean one thing: a boring night. but when a new face pops into the bar, the mood shifts drastically.

pairing: bill weasley x fem! reader

warnings: drinking, mentions of the war, language (literally once), sexual references

word count: 4.5k

taglist: @harrysweasleys​ @gcdric​ @lumos-barnes​ @whizboingies​ @lumosandnoxwriting​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @c-t-h​ @another-lonely-heart-blog​ @starlightweasley​ @parseltongueswriting​ @shilohpug​ @peachypotter​ @vogueweasley​

“Another round of ale, Albert?” you ask with a smile as you wipe down a section of the bar from its previous attendants. The damp dish towel wipes across the mahogany bar, leaving streaks that shine underneath the bar lighting, the faint smell of chemical lemon lingering in the air mixes with the overwhelming scent of lager and spirits. 

Albert flashes you a toothy grin and gives you a shrug. “Eh, why not. It’s a Friday, isn’t it?” Albert laughs before sliding you his brass mug down the length of the bar as you stealthily catch it in your hand. You fill the mug with amber ale, teeming with white foam, smelling of wheat. “You’re too good to me, (Y/N),” Albert tells you with a grin before taking a sip of his usual drink of choice. 

You were a bar maid at the Leaky Cauldron and Albert was one of your regulars. Now, you didn’t think that you would be a bar maid after graduating from Hogwarts and trying to become a professor, but the world had a funny way about it, didn’t it? Being a bar maid meant you got good tips and had the luxury of creating your own schedule, but it also meant when you worked, it was long hours of standing on your feet and serving cheap ale and lager to annoyed businessmen and exhausted workers from the hours of five o’clock to two o’clock in the morning. Work was grueling, but you tried to make as much fun of it as you could.

“It’s the least I can do, Al,” you sigh, flopping the dish towel over your shoulder as you lean over the bar. “Any juicy gossip for me today? I’ve been bored out of my skull since I clocked in and I still got another five hours ahead of me. I need some entertainment,” you groan, cracking your knuckles against the wood of the bar. The thought of another five hours dealing with more alcohol, more grumpy patrons, and another tired night made your head ache. 

Al takes a long sip from his mug, wiping the foam from his upper lip before speaking, “Not much gossip, I’m afraid.” You throw your head back and groan, taking an annoyed sip from your water. “Nothing interesting has happened, my dear,” he huffs in just as much annoyance as you. “We’re living in dark times, all news is usually disappointing, scary, or both. I’m looking for something hopeful just as much as you are,” Al confesses.

You tighten your ponytail and push your baby hairs away from your face, hands flopping on your shoulders as you slump over. Albert was right. The thought of a looming wizarding war over everyone’s heads was enough to keep everyone living in fear of when it would all come to a head and pop. At least working at the pub took your mind off of things, even if it was just for a few hours of the day.

“However,” Albert’s tone changes as you dart your eyes to him, curious. “I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the name Fleur Delacour? I heard through the grapevine that she has recently started working at Gringott’s. Desk job, but people were confused as to why should would come all the way to London for a silly desk job,” Albert explains before sipping from his ale again.

Your eyebrows furrow as the name does ring a bell. “The name sounds familiar. I certainly didn’t go to school with her or else I would know who she was. But the name is oddly recognizable...I’ll ask my younger sister when I speak to her next. She’s at Hogwarts now. I’m sure she’d know,” you tell Albert. “Anyone else take up a job? Familiar names or faces?” 

Al searches his memory for anything else. He presses his tongue to his cheek. “Yeah, there was someone else. William...I don’t remember the surname for life of me, but it was William something...” he trails off.

You think for a moment, trying to scan your brain for a William that you might know. But you drew blank. It had been so long since you saw anyone from your graduating class. You had spent most of your time in the pub or studying or applying for new professor jobs. But no one was looking to hire an under-experienced professor in these times, no matter how good your marks were at Hogwarts, regardless that you were top of your class in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. The thought makes you infuriated because you knew you could teach this new generation of wizards better than anyone else.  

Shaking your head, “Well, whatever, if he was important, you would know his name.” Albert shrugs. “I need to go bring in some kegs from the back, I’ll be back in a second,” you tell him before go around the bar, walking to the back of the Leaky Cauldron, hearing snippets of conversations here and there, most people talking about the news or their families. It was sad; just two years ago people would be roaring with laughter, telling stories and jokes, recounting happy times. Now, everyone was so focused on how the world as you knew it may be crumbling around you. 

The cool fall air wraps around you as you push the door to bring the kegs from outside in as you pull your jumper over your hands to make some make-shift mittens. “Bloody hell,” you whisper to yourself as you see three kegs lined up outside for you to bring in. “Seriously, Tom?” you groan as you grab one keg and start dragging it. “I don’t get paid enough for this, I swear,” you grumble. 

“Need a hand?” a voice interrupts you as you drag the steel keg across the cobblestone. 

You look up and your eyes meet a pair that you haven’t seen in years. An instant smile rises on your lips as the all too familiar red hair is swept in the wind. “You’re kidding,” you laugh as you stand up straight, brushing off your jumper as he smiles widely at you with a chuckle. “Bill Weasley as I live and breathe?” you laugh as you run towards him, Bill engulfing you in a large hug. Your arms wrap around him tightly as he picks you up, your feet leaving the ground as you giggly madly as Bill sways you back and forth. 

It had been years since you had seen Bill Weasley. The two of you had attended Hogwarts together in the same year and became fast friends. You had always admired how Bill was so smart and confident in himself (borderline arrogant, but in the sexiest best way). Bill was a popular one at Hogwarts, but through it all, he always managed to make time for you since you liked staying out of the lime light. Bill was well-loved and revered at Hogwarts, so it was obvious that he became a prefect during your time. And that’s when you two started to drift apart. He became busy doing his things and you became busy with your own studies. After graduation, the two of you went your separate ways, but you always wondered where he had gone. 

Bill sets you down on your feet, his hands still on your hips as he smiled brightly down at you. He looked so mature now, longer red hair tied back in a ponytail, but he was still tall, thin, and undeniably handsome. The hunter green jacket he sported clung onto his tall figure, underneath a button down that was unbuttoned just enough so you could see the chest hairs that poked out from the loose material. Hanging from his ear lobe was a fang earring that wasn’t there before. Bill had changed, but in a way that caught your eye in a way that has never happened before. You gulped. 

“Godric, (Y/N), you haven’t changed one bit,” Bill laughs as he takes a good look at you as you mentally curse that you had been wearing something different than your old blue jumper and leggings with stained boots from the bar. “How long has it been? Seven years?” he speaks as you nod. “Bloody hell, it feels like yesterday we were at Hogwarts,” he recounts the memories fondly as your heart warms to the same memories.

You smile brightly, “Time flies, Weasley.” He chuckles. “We can talk more about it if you help me bring in these kegs and I’ll treat you to an ale on the house. Or are you more of a lager man?” you ask as you walk back over to the steel kegs that wait to be dragged into the pub. 

Bill chuckles as you grab one keg, starting to drag it into the pub. Without any hesitation or effort, Bill picks up the remaining two kegs in each of his hands, muscles flexing underneath his jacket as he shakes his head. You gulp and avert your eyes, trying not to focus on the way he so effortlessly carried the heavy steel kegs as you pushed yours in. “More of a whiskey kind of guy if you got any of that,” Bill tells you as you push the kegs towards the back of the bar, Bill places his two next to yours. “I didn’t know you were working at the Leaky Cauldron.”

Walking back to the bar with Bill by your side you speak, “Yeah. Been working here for a while now since there seems to be a hold on hiring newer, younger professors,” you roll your eyes as Bill laughs. Bill remembered how badly you wanted to be a professor and teach the younger generations of wizards and witches magic. It was your dream, but now it was on pause. “What about you? Why are you back in London? Last I heard of you, you were in Egypt!” you nudge his arm with your elbow.

He gives you a smile, happy that you had been keeping your tabs on him. “I was in Egypt for a long while. Loved it, really. But I came home to help my family out with the Order and such. I’m working at Gringott’s now at a desk job. Very exciting, I know,” he rolls his eyes as you giggle, making your way behind the bar.

A William working at Gringott’s. I should have known, you think to yourself. “Hey Albert,” you call over the man who sits just a mere stool away from Bill. “That new William who's working at Gringott’s now? It’s not just any bloke, he’s a Weasley,” you smile at Albert who looks over to Bill with a look of realization. “Bill, this is Albert, one of my regulars. Al, this is Bill Weasley, we went to Hogwarts together.”

Bill gives Albert a firm shake shake and warm smile. “Nice to meet you, sir,” Bill beams. “You’ve been in good company with this one, I’m sure,” Bill winks as Albert chuckles lowly.

“That I have been. She’s great company and serves an even better mug of ale,” Albert speaks as you smile sweetly at him, Bill laughing. “I would love to stay and chat longer, but I gotta get home to the family,” Albert tells you and Bill, putting on his coat before digging into his pockets and places and handful of coins on the table to pay for his drinks and tip you generously as he usually did. “I’ll see you on Monday, my dear,” Albert calls as he walks towards the door, you giving him a salute goodbye.

Bill speaks, “He seems like a good guy.” You nod as you take out a glass and start to pour him a generous glass of Fire Whiskey before placing it front of him. “How did you know I take it neat? What if I wanted it on the rocks?”

You give him a knowing look. “I know you, Bill. Last time I checked, you were drinking Fire Whiskey straight from the bottle at your graduation party,” you recall with a light chuckle as Bill groans at the memory. “You were off your rocker that night, I’m tellin’ you,” you start to laugh harder, remembering how Bill stood up on the dining room table of the Burrow, singing along to music that he blasted as everyone laughed and sang along with him. Graduation was such a happy time in your young adult life, you wished you could go back and relive it.

He rubs his face with one hand and speaks, “We were a mess that night, weren’t we?” 

“We? Don’t drag me into this, Weasley! I was perfectly happy having one drink, but it was you who made me drink bloody Daisyroot Draught! The smell now makes me sick,” you contort your face with disgust as Bill laughs. “I will admit though, I’ve missed you quite a bit,” you confess, playing with the edges of the dish rag in your hands as you look up at Bill.

Slowly, a smile finds its way onto Bill’s lips as your heart flutters gently as his eyes look into yours. He still had the same eyes that you adored so fondly as a child and teen. In his eyes contained all the memories of Hogwarts and late nights and sleepover at the Burrow. His eyes had laughter and joy in them that you so missed during times like this. You missed Bill Weasley. For more than one reason.

“I’ve missed you more than quite a bit,” Bill reveals as you allow heat to rise to your cheeks. “I missed having my partner in crime around. Sneaking into the kitchens and then getting caught by McGonagall,” he recalls.

You laugh, “Stop, and then she asked if she could join us!” The two of you are in hysterics at the memory of eating leftovers and sweets in the kitchens with Minerva McGonagall as third year students, chatting about school and life after Hogwarts. McGonagall had always taken a liking to the two of you. She always said that you two were peas in a pod.

Bill smiles and takes a sip from his whiskey before speaking, “How long are you working tonight? I’d be happy to stay with you until you clock out.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Oh no, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’m the closer and we don’t close the bar down until two in the morning.”

With a cheeky smirk, Bill huffs, “Well, we’ve got a lot to catch up on and we got...” he looks at the clock on the wall, “four and a half hours to kill. So, start talking, (Y/N). We’ve got all night,” he speaks, dropping his left eye in a wink as you smile with a blush. 

-----------

For the next four hours, you and Bill caught up on everything. And by everything, you mean everything. His life after Hogwarts sounded much more interesting than what you had been doing to keep busy. Bill had been spending his time as a Curse-Breaker for Gringott’s, going on missions throughout Egypt, coming home to London here and there. You smiled as he recounted his stories with such passion and love in his eyes. It was evident that Bill loved what he was doing and he was sad that he couldn’t continue doing his job, now being stationed back in London at a boring desk job. Quite the downgrade from fighting and defeating mummies to working an office job.

Soon, people were filing out of the bar as closing time approached until it was just you and Bill in the pub. You had moved from standing behind the bar to sitting on a stool next to Bill, leaning on the bar as you listened to his deep baritone voice speak to you. 

Bill placed a hand on your knee, giving it a squeeze. “(Y/N)? Tell me something,” he speaks.

“Anything, Weasley,” you smile at him, sleepily.

Bill chuckles, “Why are you working as a bar maid when you could be going out and doing what you love? Teaching. You’ve always wanted to teach students magic and it doesn’t seem fair that you are parked behind a bar pouring ale and lager to lazy blokes.” You roll your eyes and shake your head. “I’m serious. What’s stopping you?”

You sigh and recount everything that has held you back from doing what you want. First off, no wizarding school in the United Kingdom was hiring any professor right now due to the climate of the wizarding world. The only other option was moving to America and maybe teaching there at Ilvermorny? Maybe Beauxbatons in France? But it wasn’t a guarantee that you could find a job with such little teaching experience under your belt. “Besides the hiring freeze? I have no experience teaching, Bill. Plus, I want to make money for myself right now so I can save it up and move into my own place rather than living in my small flat with a bunch of my mates. The only other jobs are abroad and I do not have that much money to make a move like that. Besides, my whole family is here. My friends. And you’ve just come back now and leaving just seems illogical,” you sigh, knowing that your dream would have to wait.

He shakes his head, “Excuses, excuses.” You shake your head and take a sip from the whiskey that you had poured yourself, the amber liquid warming up your chest and stomach. It tasted like graduation. “If I can teach a year at Hogwarts, then you certainly can. Besides, you were just as good, if not better, than me in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I’m sure they could use your help more than ever right now.”

Looking up at Bill, you see how tender and soft his gaze is on you. He really meant every word he spoke to you with genuine honesty. Looking at Bill now was like looking at someone who you had known forever. He really hadn’t changed one bit. He was witty and kind and smart and sweet. Your Bill. But at the same time, he was different. He had become so mature and ruthless and brave. It was a new Bill, a Bill you could get used to. 

You look down and see that his hand was still placed on your knee. Clearing your throat, you shift in your seat and Bill retracts his hand, digging it into the pocket of his jacket again as you take a sip of your whiskey. “Well,” you start, “I know I would be a better professor than you...I’m better at a lot of things than you,” you tease him as he rolls his eyes. 

“Oh yeah? Do I smell a challenge?” Bill laughs as you shrug. “Ah, ah, don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart,” he leans back in his chair, tongue pressed to his cheek as you gulp, the nickname making your palms sweat. “Go on,” he speaks, daring you to challenge him. “You chose.”

Trying to ignore the rapid increase in your heart rate, you swallow hard. “Fine,” you smile before reaching over to the other side of a bar, grabbing a jar filled with a red liquid and multiple bright red cherries. Twisting the cap open, you pluck out two maraschino cherries, one for you and one for Bill. “I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue faster than you can,” you smirk, flirtatiously biting the cherry of its stem as Bill’s eyes widen and he gulps, shifting in his seat.

He clears his throat, “Yeah? How much you wanna bet?” 

You think for a moment, trying to find a wager that would make this worth your while. “If I win, you pick up the tab from tonight,” you smile.

“I thought this was all on the house?” he scoffs with a smirk.

“Not if you lose,” you sing song, making him roll his eyes. “And Albert told me about a new worker at Gringott’s. Fleur Delacour? Yeah, you’ve gotta ask her out on a date,” you smirk. 

Bill’s eyes widen. “Fleur?!” he exclaims with a laugh. “She’s my co-worker! Plus, we’re just friends. Nothing’s there,” he reasons as you shake your head.

You laugh, “Well those are my terms if I win. Gotta get you out on the dating field, Weasley.” You tease him as he smirks, looking down at the whiskey glass in his hands. “And if you win?”

He thinks for a moment, swirling the whiskey around and around in his glass, pondering what his terms would be. Bill bites the cherry off the stem as you watch his lips move carefully, like you were in a trance of some kind. You quickly shake it off, trying to keep yourself from getting distracted by him. “If I win,” Bill huffs, “then first of all, the drinks are on the house. Second, you’ll have to stop by the Burrow because once Mum hears that you’re in London, she’ll have a cow,” he laughs as you giggle. Molly Weasley, what an angel. “And third of all,” he speaks, leaning forward on his elbows so he’s closer to your face as you inhale sharply, “I’ll ask whoever the fuck I want on a date.”

Your heart stops for a moment as your whole body tingles as the words all from his lips. You can’t take your eyes off of his you are frozen. Bill smirks at your reaction before slowly leaning back in his chair, biting down softly on his lower lip as you gulp. “O-Okay then,” you manage to make out, trying to reorient yourself as Bill chuckles. “Count of three?” you speak before placing the cherry stem in your mouth as Bill does his. “One...two...three.”

With that, the two of you start twisting your tongue around the cherry stem, trying to tie it before the other could. Your heart is racing a mile a minute and your stomach is doing flips as your mind is screaming what the hell is going on. The entire time Bill doesn’t take his eyes off of you, staring into yours. The act felt so inherently sexual that you could feel your palms sweat and a second heartbeat between your thighs grow. This was a terribly good idea. 

You can feel the cherry stem in your mouth finally slip into a knot as your eyes widen in victory, hand flying up to your mouth so you can show Bill the work you have done. As you hand reaches your lips, Bill’s fingers slyly pull his cherry stem out of his mouth just mere milliseconds before you. “I win,” he speaks.

“You cheated!” you instantly accuse him, pointing your finger at him.

Bill chuckles, “How did I cheat? I won fair and square and you know it, you sore loser.”

You shake your head, “I clearly won, you saw me! You had to have cheated, just so you could get free whiskey out of it!” Bill just shakes his head and grabs your chair, pulling you closer to him as you fail to notice as you keep rambling nervously. “Admit it, Bill, you just don’t like to admit that you’re not Hogwarts’ golden child anymore. You’ve out grown that title. Step aside for the new winner which is me, of course. You know I won, come on, Bill. I def-”

“(Y/N)?” he asks softly.

You realize that you are mere inches away from Bill now, his hands resting on either side of your stool. You inhale slowly and gulp, trying to calm yourself down to prepare for the inevitable. “Yes, Bill?” you respond just as softly.

“Shut up,” he whispers with a smile.

“Okay.”

Without further hesitation, Bill leans forward and connects your lips together as you inhale deeply, kissing him back and wrapping your arms around his neck instantly. Bill’s hands slide around your sides before hoisting you onto the bar, him standing between your legs as he kisses you deeper. You wrap your legs around his torso, drawing him closer to you, needing to feel his body pressed against yours. His lips move against yours with deep desire that he had been saving for so long and finally, you both were getting what you wanted for so long. His mouth tasted of the whiskey as you took more and more of it, drunk off of his kiss. 

His hands held onto you tightly, not daring to let you go as you lightly moaned into his lips, making him smirk. Bill’s tongue was cool against yours as he massaged yours with his, snogging you right in the middle of the bar. Your mouths moved together, lusting after the other’s touch. You hands ran down his chest and his abs as he groaned gently into your mouth, making your stomach flutter as you smirked softly. Bill’s hand cupped your cheek before making its way to the back of your neck, pressing your lips harder against his. 

You wanted to take him in this pub just like this, but Bill pulls away before you can push off his jacket. The two of you are breathless from kissing, chest heaving up and down, a smile on both of your faces as you blush a wild crimson. “You win,” you surrender to Bill who chuckles.

“I always win, sweetheart,” he winks before kissing you again, this time short as you whine when he pulls away. “And since I won, that means that this whiskey,” he points to his glass, “is on the house, you’ll be joining the Weasley’s for Sunday dinner, and on Monday night, you’ll be taking the night off so I can take you out on a proper date rather than just snogging on the bar of the pub,” he speaks as you laugh.

You run your fingers through his hair, “You mean you do like snogging me on the bar?” you tease him.

Bill furrows his brows, “Hey, hey, slow your roll. Don’t put words in my mouth now.” You laugh, placing your hands on his shoulders. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than snog you in every location of his pub,” he winks as you roll your eyes. “But I reckon a girl like you should be taken out on a proper date by a bloke like me, eh?” 

Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, you speak against them, “It’d be my honor.”

“Wicked,” he smirked, giving your sides a squeeze before hoisting you down from the bar. “How about you lock this place up and I’ll walk you back to your flat. Can’t have precious cargo like you roaming the streets alone,” he speaks with a gentle tap on your bum as you roll your eyes.

You shove his shoulder teasingly, “Hey, just because you came back from Egypt, Mr. Big Shot, doesn’t mean you make my decisions for me.” Bill chuckles as you smile, “But yeah, I’ll let you walk me home, Weasley.”

[kanene-yaaay]

5+1 [Part 3] - Updated

5 times Iida was tickled and the one time he wasn’t.

[PART ONE]

[PART TWO]

[PART THREE] - Not updated

Kanene’s note: Heyaaa! Okay, You may be wondering “Wait, but I already read that!” But there is where you’re mistaken!! This chapter was edited by the amazing, lovely @made-by-jade-222 who honestly did a very good job and that is so cute sxdfghjkjhyg.

Just remembering: Iida is 12 years old now!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to the anime/manga Boku no Hero.

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic with family tickles, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of very greeat arts in this site!! ^w^)b

* This is Lee!Tenya with Ler!Hizashi + Ler!Aizawa with brief Ler!Tensei and Lee!Aizawa. All relationships are platonic. Around 1.800 words.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Take a very deep breath, sometimes that can be enough, drink water, sleep and eat! <33

[~*~]

Iida sat at the kitchen table, smiling to himself as he thought about the day’s activities and drank his special orange juice. It was an expensive brand, so he was only allowed to have it on special occasions, and his birthday was certainly one of them. His parents had planned to host his party in the evening after work so they could be there, along with the rest of their family. As for the day’s activities, Iida would spend the whole day hanging out with his brother, and his two honorary Uncles, Aizawa and Yamada. Iida had offered to help with the decorations, planning, organizing and everything but he’d been forced by his parents to sit back and relax for once. It was his birthday, after all.

(Tenya one day protested at the nickname, pointing it didn’t make sense call them ‘Uncles’ since they aren’t blood related. However, his parents explained that this was just a way to express fondness and closeness for someone you care about. The younger one began to call them uncles with more frequency, except on social gatherings)

Iida finished his breakfast quickly, though he savored the last of his special juice. He was beyond excited to be able to spend the day with his brother and uncles, he didn’t get to do that very often since their work took up most of their time. He was putting his dishes away when the doorbell rang. He answered the door, a polite smile on his face, about to greet his guests. The smile quickly faded.

There stood his two honorary Uncles, Aizawa and Hizashi. They were standing there with mischievous smirks on their faces, sending shivers down Iida’s spine.

“Hello! ~” Hizashi chirped. 

Hearing the sinister undertone of his uncle’s voice, Iida slammed the door in his face and backed away. He winced at how disrespectful that had been, but at the moment he valued his safety over his manners. But actually, he wasn’t anxious about what they were going to do. They were always nice and kind with him, making him smile and enjoy himself to give him a break from trying to be perfect, which he couldn’t. (Something they wondered if he’d ever learn.)

Tensei came into view as he quickly walked into the room, giving his little brother a smile as he ran into him. “Who’s at the door?” he asked.

“Uncles!” Tenya said, trying to move around him but being stopped by his brother’s hand on his shoulder. He frowned, blushing as he thought of his impending fate, which was all the more evident now that Tensei was here and would most definitely be on their side. “They are going to do the hideous tr-tradition that you started when I was a kid!” he said, or rather, whined, stumbling over his words. 

Tensei laughed, and Tenya pouted, though he’d deny that till the end of time.

“Oh, yeah! I forgot about that! It’s so nice of them to help me to remember our wonderful little tradition, isn’t it?”

“No! Far from it! Pro-heroes like you shouldn’t be committing such em-embarrassing, hideous acts in the first place, even l-less repeating it yearly!”

“Aww, you’re stuttering! You’re excited, aren’t you?” Tensei asked, smiling knowingly. His little brother could verbally protest all he wanted, but the eager gleam in his eyes gave him away. He ignored the squeaked “NO!” he got in responde and smiled even wider. Tenya made a move to leave, but Tensei grabbed him around the waist and held him close.

“You know, since they’re being so kind by helping us remember our tradition, it’s only fair that we let them participate, right?” Tensei asked, holding onto Tenya tighter as the nearing footsteps made him struggle all the more, trying to get away. “HEY, GUYS! THE BIRTHDAY BOY IS HERE!” he called.

“Tensei!” But the boy was already smiling, squirming excitedly on his brother’s hold, especially when a loud, happy ‘YEAHHH!’ boomed through the house.

“No, no! This is betrayal! Deception! Dishonesty! Trickery! Treason!”

Tensei laughed. “Now you’re just reciting the dictionary!” he said, no hint of regret in his voice, distractedly nodding at his uncles when they appeared at the door. “Look,” he whispered conspiratorially, “I need you to distract them until Shouta lets his guard down so I can sneak up on him. Hizashi would never pass up an opportunity to tickle him too, so while we’re doing that you go run and get something to bribe them with, okay?”

The younger gasped, quickly nodding. 

“Right. So, are you ready for your part of the plan, sidekick?”

“YES!” Iida shouted, chopping the air. Tensei squeezed his side to remind him to be quiet, but that only made him squeal. Thankfully, the two men who were walking towards them didn’t seem to catch on to their conversation. 

“Now, now. It seems like a certain little listener here is excited for birthday tickles!” Hizashi said, wiggling his fingers in his direction. “Oh! They grow up so fast!” he said, putting a hand on his chest and sighing longingly. “It feels like it was just yesterday that we were playing heroes! And I, the evil LoudChaos, would be defeated by Ingenium Junior and his vicious attacks of kicking his pillows at me!” The blonde ruffled his honorary nephew’s hair and then pinched his cheek playfully, grinning at the groan he got in response. 

Iida batted his hand away and faced the two of them, a determined look on his face. “You will never be able to crack me, villains! Not even with embarrassing childhood memories!” he said, gesturing energetically.

“I don’t know about that,” Tensei said, smirking. “I can think of plenty myself, like the time we had to buy at least three more of your favorite plushie because you wouldn’t let us wash the original one was pretty funny- ack! Hey, hey!” Tensei snickered as he tried to dodge from Tenya’s warning kicks, “I was kidding! I was kidding!” 

“Want me to hold him?” Aizawa asked nonchalantly, a small quirk of his mouth showing his amusement about the whole situation. At Tensei’s affirmative nod he quickly grabbed Tenya’s wrists and held them above his head with one hand. He smirked at his nervous nephew, who was trying to fight a smile. He ruffled his hair. “Congrats on being another year closer to death, brat. You’re twelve, so that means you’ve got...what, seventy eight more to go?” he asked.

Tenya’s face deadpanned, unamused.

“Ooh, right, twelve!” Hizashi’s fingers were teasingly getting closer, slowly and then even slower, almost touching a spot before pretending to launch at others, resulting in kicks and muffled shrieks from the younger one. “You know what that means, right, Shou?”

“Yep. We’ll have to tickle him for twelve years.”

“Aw, what a pity.”

“No! Lies! That is incorrect!”

“Oh really, not-so-little listener? Please, enlighten us.”

“According to the silly and foolish tradition that you insist on doing every year, you should tickle me for twelve entire minutes. One minute for each year,” Iida said automatically, going into school-mode, unaware that he was only sealing his impending doom. “That’s how it’s always been done.”

Aizawa and Yamada exchanged an amused look, while Tensei was doing his best to hold back his laughter. His little brother was just too precious.

“I don’t think I heard you correctly. We should, what?” Aizawa asked, his voice emotionless. questioned.

“Tickle me!” Tenya repeated, then gasped, realizing what they’d just tricked him into saying.

“Well, if you insist!” Hizashi said, then attacked. He reached out and used his skilled fingers to tickle and tickle every spot he could reach. 

There were fingers dancing on his ribs and poking his stomach. There were agonizingly ticklish scribbles and pokes and prodding at his sides, and even a couple squeezes on his knee. 

Iida squealed and burst into loud laughter, squirming in his tickler’s grip. The anticipation made him skip the giggles and just laugh right away. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

A lazy and almost unbearably light touch drew shapes on his neck, then scribbled over to his ears and then all the way back to his collarbone, going from one side to another, over and over again. And no matter how much he scrunched his neck, that did nothing to deter the tickle monster.

“Coochie coochie coo, little listener!” 

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOHOHO!”

That unbearably embarrassing tease brought his focus back to his more aggressive tickler, who was currently targeting his armpits. His loud laughter, mixed with squeaks, yelps and guffaws at the mix of soft and aggressive tickles made him almost forget the teasing completely. Almost. 

“Have a tickle, tickle here!” He shook his head, trying to dislodge the fingers on his neck as his sides were squeezed. “And tickle, tickle, tickle there!” Spidering, tickly fingers on his shoulder blades made him squirm all the more. “Have all the tickles! Tickly, tickly, tickles here, there, and everywhere!”

“YOHOHOHOU WILL NOT DEFEHEHEAT ME!” Tenya shrieked, grinning from ear to ear as chuckles and giggles spilled freely from him. 

‘I have to stay strong!’ he thought. ‘I have to keep them distracted so Tensei can get Uncle Shouta!’ 

That was why he wasn’t fighting back much. He knew he could get away if he really wanted to. It certainly wasn’t because he enjoyed the silly, playful attention and affection from his uncles.

“Of course we will,” Shouta said, pausing to check the timer. “We still have five minutes left. I’m sure you’ll surrender eventually.”

“Nehehehehever!” Iida giggled, taking in several large breaths when his Uncle Hizashi decided to give him a break, leaving only the light tickles from Uncle Shouta to keep the smile on his face. But the break lasted only a moment.

“Hey, hey, hey, little listener!” Hizashi said in a sing-song voice.

Tenya knew that tone. He immediately shut his eyes tightly, a wobbly smile on his face, not noticing that the neck tickles from his other uncle had stopped. 

“Aw, come on Tenya! Don’t leave me hanging! Look at me, pleaaase?”

The boy shook his head, eyes still firmly closed.

“Shoouuu, he doesn’t want to see the big, great, amazing birthday surprise I have for him! He’s so ungrateful!”

Shouta scoffed. “No, he’s smart. And besides, it’s not his fault that you’re not charming enough to get him to look at you,” he said.

Hizashi gasped dramatically. “Oh! You wound me! Friendship ended with Ereaserhead! Tensei, you’re my new best friend!” he said.

He thought for a moment, then smirked.

“Buuuut, the vacancy is still open if maybe, just maaaybe,” A wiggly finger tickled under his chin, making Tenya snort, “if a clever teenager with a cute laugh and navy blue hair decides to open his eyes…”

“Yohohou will not crahack me!”

“Please? Please, please, please please please!” Hizashi begged, punctuating every word with a poke to the boy’s tummy, getting faster and faster until finally-

“Stop!” 

Iida opened his eyes, finding a very smiley Hizashi in front of him, who made a silly face. He half groaned and half giggled, the former action only due Aizawa’s renewed back tickles, of course.

“Aw, you didn’t find it funny?” The blonde crossed his arms, pretending to think about his next move. “Alright then, I know something that’ll make you laugh!”

And then, in a blink of an eye, he yanked up his nephew’s shirt and blew a gigantic raspberry on his tummy.

Tenya squealed and fell into hysterics, the sudden change in volume surprising Aizawa and making him let go for a moment. Then the man began to snort and try to fight his laughter as his other nephew, Tensei, attacked him from behind, tickling his unprotected armpits. His rumbling chuckles filled the air as Tenya fell to his knees, hugging his tummy and giggling non-stop as Yamada knelt next to him tenderly ruffled his hair, then kissed his temple before standing up. He grinned wickedly as he saw his best friend being tickled to pieces.

“Is it already Tickle Shouta hours?” he asked delightly. He cracked his knuckles and wiggled his fingers in Aizawa’s face, making a show of getting ready. He chuckled, amused, as his silly antics only made his best friend laugh even harder, covering his mouth and laying limply against Tensei, a slight blush on his face. Hizashi descended upon him with tickles, pulling his hand away and sending him into gales of laughter, his legs kicking from the silly tickles and teases he was getting.

And, as Iida laid on the cold floor, still giggling occasionally as he watched his uncle get tickled silly, he found that he didn’t actually mind this tradition. It was silly, it was foolish, and juvenile, but...it was also a lot of fun.

And it made him feel very loved.

[melaninxateez]

the woosan bond-vamp au (.01)

Hi! Thank you so much for reading my first blog post. My main account is @ kmelanin, so :)) Enjoy. 

No warnings yet.

At the age of 21, you were quite alone…a lot. You did not really have many friends, except a few from high school who hit you up to catch up over a couple of drinks. You have never dated anyone either, too afraid of commitment or heart break. Which means that you were still a virgin. It did not really matter to you, until anytime you try to date, and they cut you off because you do not want to fuck on the first date. Maybe you were just looking in the wrong area. Maybe you should not be looking at all.

                       You could not help but blame the way you look. You were on the heavier side, your body shaped more like a pear. Your hips protruded and so did your belly a bit. Your ass was huge and your boobs on the smaller side. And that, that is not what people want. You are trying to get over this insecurity, as it will do nothing for you. Or maybe this is just another excuse to not lose your virginity a move on with someone random. Maybe you are too picky.

                       When you woke, you grab your phone that started to beep a couple of times. It was a group chat with you and two of your best friends, San and Wooyoung. You do not really remember when you three became so close. But they made sure to keep in contact with you every day. Without you saying anything they always reassure you on how much they love you. You truly did not deserve them.

                       Wooyoung and San told you a couple of days ago that they were going to be out of town for a couple of days. It threw you off a bit because you have not been apart from them for that long since you first met three years ago. You couldn’t help but to feel a bit depressed because of it, and you hated that.

                       You hated that you depended on them so much. Its been two days since they left and you didn’t want to bother them on their vacation; or whatever they were doing. You lay in bed and open your phone. You’ve read all of their messages from the past two days, you just didn’t answer. They wondered what you were up to one day and wondering why you weren’t answering the next. They started to get worried and upset yesterday so you made sure to tell them that you’re fine and that you’re just busy. Now you read todays messages,

                       WOO- I can’t help but feel like you’re avoiding us.

                       Sannie- Its not like you to message us once in three days.

                       WOO- its pissing me off

                       Sannie- we are on our way back to you

                       Sannie- expect us around 8 tonight…

                       Your eyes widen at the last message. You look at the time noticing that its almost 10am. Your heart started racing, you didn’t know what to do. You didn’t really have a valid reason to not messaging them, you just didn’t feel the need to. They needed time away from you, you felt. More like you needed time away from them, you needed to clear you mind a bit. Because what you felt for them is different than anything else you ever felt. Is it wrong to feel like this for them? For both?

                       At this point, you’re overthinking. You decided to message them back.

                       YOU- sorry, I just woke up guys. But did you guys have fun?

                           You didn’t know…they don’t know how to tell you. San and Wooyoung, they fell in love. Not only with you, but with your soul. They are bound to you for eternity and you didn’t know. It was absolutely the most painful thing this man has ever gone through. Days before them leaving, Wooyoung was losing this control a bit to fast.

                       It was a night that they decided to sleep over. You don’t usually cuddle with them, which made them upset sometimes. But that night, you fell asleep against Wooyoung while watching a movie in your bed. San was laying on the end more focused on the movie than anything. Wooyoung was sitting next to you, his back against the wall. You were laying against some pillows next to him.

                       Wooyoung looks over at you halfway through the movie to see that you were asleep. He pokes your cheek a bit to make sure that you were fully asleep. Then he gently pushes your head so that it fell right on his lap. Then you started to move making Wooyoung freeze and San to look back. When San watched you cuddle into Woo young’s lap, his eyes widen, and he starts to sit up a bit.

                       “Fuck…” Wooyoung groans softly, his body was tingling like crazy. He didn’t think this all the way through. San looks up at Wooyoung noticing the younger one staring back down at you.

                       “Yah, what are you doing?” San starts to freak, but also tries not to wake you up. San clenches his hands on the bed when he watches Wooyoung run his whole hand down your arm. He then rans his hand over your head and pushes your hair away from your neck. San didn’t know what to do and Wooyoung couldn’t stop.

                       Wooyoung felt his fangs start to protrude out, and his vision goes a bit red. He knows his eyes were glowing at this point. He looks up at San, noticing his eyes were glowing back at him.

                       “I just wanted her to rest on my lap a bit, as we never really get to hold her.” Wooyoung speaks slowly, he feels as if he might crack at any moment. Both men make sure not to move to fast, because if they did…who know what would happen.

                       “You know what skin on skin contact does to us, we can only handle it for so long. And you haven’t had any blood in a week, you’re really push our luck.” Sans voice starts to get deadly. He starts to threaten the younger one, warning him not to do any harm to you. “When we mark her as our, then it won’t be so intense. Until then we need to go and feed, and plan how we tell her.

                       In a blink of an eye, Wooyoung was standing next to the bed. They both watch you, making sure you don’t wake up. When you turn over and fall back into your deep sleep, they let out a breath.

                       “I hate this…” Wooyoung pouts softly as he tries to pull himself together. He also adjusts his pants a bit because he was supporting a hard on. San just shakes his head and pulls the younger one out into the living room.

                       It was the next morning when they told you about their vacation.

                       They are always with you, because its impossible to be away. They remember seeing you sitting in a café window enjoying some tea and a muffin as you drew on your iPad. San couldn’t help but to admire you the whole time, while Wooyoung was practically jumping up and down where he stood.

                       San tends to be the calmer and more serious one between the both of them. He tends to care for both you and Wooyoung so very much. San and Wooyoung have always been a duo, and they just knew that they needed one more.

                       Wooyoung being the giddy one, he walked up to you first, complementing your art and sitting down next to you without asking. San just rolls his eyes and his bluntness from outside.

                       Ever since that day, they haven’t left your side.

                       San watches Wooyoung pace around the hotel room as they wait for their friend Yunho. He’s dropping off some blood bags for them to take back home. His pacing was driving San insane.

                       “Will you sit down? You pacing around like that is pissing me off.” San says lowly as he rubs his temples a bit. Wooyoung instantly stops and groans, he runs his fingers through his hair.

                       “I need to be next to her. Do you think she’ll accept us?” Wooyoung asks San. He walks over to the bed and sits next to him.

                       “I have no fucking idea. I never know what shes thinking.” San mumbles. Its true, they never knew. That kept things interesting for them though, as they can read people quite easily. Wooyoung throws himself back on the bed, and he sighs.

                       “I don’t think I can survive if she rejects us.”

                       Suddenly both of their phone dings, they both instantly take out their phones and read the second message you’ve sent them in three days. They are pretty sure you loved driving them crazy.

                       YOU- sorry, I just woke up guys. But did you guys have fun?

                       Wooyoung couldn’t help but to laugh a bit.

                       “I cant believe she just messages us like she hasn’t been ignoring our messages.” He grumbles. Hes always asking if you’ve eaten, or wonders how your day is.

                       “Be happy that she even said anything back.” San says as he starts to text something back.

                           Sannie- Did you sleep well? Did you eat?

                       If you were asked what question they ask you the most, it would be “Did you eat?”. At first you thought it was sweet that they wanted to make sure that you were well taken care of. But at some point, it felt like they were trying to fatten you up. You always complain to them that you’re thick enough, maybe a bit too thick. Suddenly your phone starts to ring, your heart beating out of your chest. You look back at your phone seeing a group chat facetime call coming in.

                       You couldn’t ignore it, so you answer it. You face the camera towards your closet at the end of your bed instead of on your face.

                       “Hi Woosan.” You say, your voice cracks a bit since you didn’t wake up not to long ago.

                       “Why is the camera pointed at the wall, I called to see your face.” Wooyoung whines a bit into the camera. You couldn’t help but to blush while looking at both. They always look so good, in every angle and in every lighting.

                       “I just woke up, I look ugly.” You complain rolling your eyes a bit. You couldn’t help but to laugh little bit when you noticed that he rolled his eyes too. You found that cute, so you just turned your camera towards you. They’ve seen you when you first wake up plenty of time, how is this any different?

                       “Ahhhh, there you are pretty girl.” San smiles big when he sees you. You start to blush when you notice both smiling big and just staring at you. You wait a couple of more seconds before you notice them not really saying anything.

                       “Are you both just going to stare at me the whole time?” You ask covering your face a bit with your free hand.

                       “Mhmm.” Wooyoung smirks and nods his head, making a point to hold his head up with his hand and look lovingly into the camera at you. You throw your blanket off of your body and you sit up and stretch. You didn’t realize that the camera was catching the whole scene for them up close. They both looked at each other with huge smiles on their face.

                       “So cute.” They both coos. But you don’t hear that. You stand up from your bed and you head to your bathroom to start your morning routine.

                       “Why must you facetime me now if you’re coming home later.” You ask them as you set your phone up on a shelf that was near your sink. You grab your toothbrush and open the toothpaste.

                       “ahh, well…” Wooyoung starts off as if he wanted to say something, but he stops himself and looks over at San who was in the same room as him. San looks from him back to his phone at you.

                       “You suddenly forgot how to text, so facetime is the only way.” San puts it simply. They were damn near praying that you would answer.

                       “Sorry guys, I just feel so..” You pause from saying what you wanted, and you continue brushing your teeth.

                       “Eh?” San asks, not sure if he heard you or not. You just shrug and point to the brush in your mouth, then you leave the view of the camera.

                       When you’re done brushing your teeth and washing your face, you look back at the camera and noticed that they muted themselves. They were looking at each other and talking but you couldn’t hear them.

                       You take this time to look at your best friends, you will never get over how fucking gorgeous they are. San has dark hair with some red strands in it, he could rock any hairstyle. You were still trying to convince him to grow his hair out for a mullet. Wooyoung hair wasn’t black, but it was a dark brown. He got it done days before he left.

                       “Guys…” You say wanting to hear their voices. “Why am I muted? Are you talking about my birthday coming up?” You joke around.

                       “Of course, we are, it’s in a couple of days and we still haven’t gotten your gift yet.” Sans voice comes through first, his words getting you excited. His gifts were always amazing, from random songs he’s made for you to expensive jewelry. Wooyoungs always made you blush, giving you really pretty lingerie and expensive shoes. They really did spoil you.

                       You didn’t know, but they wanted to confess to you on your birthday. They wanted to tell you how much they love you before the bigger secret. They needed to see that you could handle them without all the extra stuff. They were very afraid of your reaction, but they were also confident in you. They wouldn’t have bonded with you if you couldn’t handle it.

                       “Actually, I want to go to a club for my birthday. I haven’t been to a club in a while.” You perk up at the thought. But the boys look at each other confused as hell. You always reject their attempts to get you into one. You know they loved dancing, so you always forced them to go without you. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you guys fully dance, so I want to.”

                       Its true. Sure, you’ve seen them do a little dance here or there, but you haven’t seen them go all out. And if the rumors are true, they go crazy in clubs.

                       “Okay, but what about our little get togethers, I miss those.” Woo whines a bit as he speaks, making you blush a bit. You loved when he spoke like that, it made you feel like whatever you said next to him would make or break him.

                       “We can have one the night after, plus its Wednesday and my birthday is Saturday. We have time in between.” San nods his head in agreement with your words.

                       “Which one are you thinking?” San asks, he brings the camera closer to his face so he can hear you loud and clear. He wishes he were there right now talking about it with you. But the sun makes his skin itch, and he didn’t bring clothes for that. They will have to wait until the sun starts to go down.

                       “Mhmm,” You set up your phone on a cookie jar in your kitchen. You open the fridge and bend down to grab some thick cut bacon and some eggs. Both San and Wooyoung enjoy the show a bit too much, seeing your oversized shirt rise a bit as you bend over, showing off your black and white stripped undies. Wooyoung had to rip the phone away from his eyes. San looks over to him and watches as he fixes his pants to make his hard on more comfortable.

                       “Did I teach you anything about self-control?” San whispers harshly. He swears Wooyoung will never learn. He looks back at the phone, and watches as you start to cook some bacon.

                       “What’s the one club on the edge of town with the red sign called?” You ask

                       “Hwa Fang?

                       “Oh yes!! Let’s go to that one, you say you go there all the time, right?” You ask them while smiling. You couldn’t tell, but they got nervous. Hwa Fang is a club owned by one of their dear friends SeongHwa. SeongHwa is a much older vampire, he owned vampire clubs and human clubs. Hwa Fang so happen to be a combination of the two, allowing humans and vampires to mingle together freely. They don’t feel comfortable enough to let you go there without even telling you about them.

                       Their secret will come out then, and they can’t let that happen. But then again, they don’t want to disappoint you.

                       “How about the one downtown, the roof top on you’ve always wanted to go to?” Wooyoung brings up the club that you always see glowing at the top. You didn’t know it was a club until they told you.

                       “That’s true, but its also so much more expensive.” You contemplate your options as you finish cooking your food. You would rather not pay $50 for one drink.

                       “You know you don’t have to worry about that,” Wooyoung starts.

                       “Especially on your birthday.” San finishes.

                       You three continue talking about random shit, trying to make the time go by faster. While talking with them, you’ve realized how much you’ve been over thinking. These boys are your life and you’re okay with that.  No matter what happens you can’t lose them, you refuse.

[good-omens-classic]

Hi Good Omens fans, ever since making this blog, and trawling through the archives for old art, I have been thinking again about trends from before the TV-show, and the way people draw Aziraphale and Crowley.  I wanted to make this post addressing it but this is not “discourse” or to start a fight, in fact I would be perfectly content if all I did was make people think critically about what I am about to say and not even interact with this post at all, but I feel like I need to say it.

Talking about any racist undertones to the way people draw our two favorite boys usually makes people dig their heels in pretty fast.  This is not a callout post for any artist in particular, this is not me trying to be overly critical of artists especially since they have more talent and skill than I do, and I’m going to address some common counterpoints that I frankly find unsatisfactory.  Let’s just take a moment to set aside our defensiveness and think objectively about these trends.  It took me a while to unlearn my dismissive attitude about these concerns so maybe I can help others get over that hurdle a little faster.  Now let’s begin.

I’ve been kicking around the Good Omens fandom since maybe 2015 and for art based in book canon, whether it was made before the TV show came out, or because the artist is consciously drawing different, original designs, I’m going to estimate that a decent 75% of all fanart looks like this

Aziraphale is white and blonde and blue-eyed while Crowley is the typical “racially ambiguous” brown skin tone it’s become so popular to draw podcast characters as nowadays.

And the question is why?  With the obvious answer being “it’s racist,” but let’s delve a little deeper than that.

A common thing I hear is that people get appearance headcanons fixed in their mind because the coverart of the book pictures the characters a certain way.  My first point is this only shifts the question to why the illustrators drew them that way, when there aren’t many physical descriptions in the book.  My second point is that while there definitely are cover arts that picture Aziraphale as cherubic, blonde, and white and Crowley as swarthy, dark-skinned, and racially ambiguous...

(side note: why is Crowley’s hand so tiny?  what the hell is going on in this cover?)

It’s much more common for the covers to simplified, stylized, and without any particular unambiguous skin tones

I don’t know about the UK but the most popular version in the United States is the dual black and white matching covers

And while you could make an argument that the shading on Crowley’s face could suggest a darker skintone, it seems obvious to me that lacking any color these are not supposed to suggest any particular race for either of these two, and the contrasting colors are a stylistic choice to emphasize how they are on opposite sides.  If anything, to me it suggests they are both white.

In short I simply do not buy the argument that people are drawing Aziraphale and Crowley this way because that’s how they were represented on the cover art of the book.  If you draw them the way they are on the cover then whatever, I don’t care, but I don’t believe that’s what’s driving this trend.

The second thing people will say is that Good Omens is a work of satire, and it’s based in Christian mythology which has this trend of depicting angels as white, and it is embodying the trope of a “white, cherubic angel” paired with a dark-skinned demon for the explicit purpose of subverting the trope of “white angel is good, dark demon is bad” since Aziraphale is not an unambiguous hero and Crowley is not a villain.  “It’s not actually like that because Crowley isn’t a bad demon, and Aziraphale isn’t actually a perfect angel” is the argument.  This has a certain logic to it and allows some nuance to the topic, but to this I say:

Uncritically reproducing a trope, even in the context of a satire novel, is not enough to subvert it.  Good Omens is not criticising the racist history of the church, and while the book does have some pointed jabs at white British culture (such as Madam Tracy conning gullible Brits with an unbelievably ignorant stereotype of a Native American) it is not being critical of the conception of angels as white and blonde or the literal demonization of non-white people.  That’s just not what the book is about.  So making the angel white and the demon dark-skinned, playing directly into harmful tropes and stereotypes, is not somehow subversive or counter-cultural when doing so doesn’t say anything about anything.

Please consider fully the ramifications of the conception of white and blonde people as innocent and cherubic and dark-skinned people as infernal and mischievous, especially in modern contexts...

Black people are more likely to be viewed as violent, angry, and dangerous.  Priming with a dark-skinned face makes people more likely to mistake a tool for a gun.  Black people are viewed as experiencing pain less intensely by medical professionals.  Black men are viewed as physically larger and more imposing than they actually are.  The subconscious racial bias favoring light skin is so ingrained it’s measurable by objective scientific studies, on top of the anecdotal evidence of things like news stories choosing flattering, “cherubic” pictures of white and blond criminals while using unflattering mugshots for non-white offenders.

This is why I say that if you’re going to invoke the “whites are angelic” trope, you better have a damn good subversion of it to justify it, because this idea causes real harm to real people in the real world.  And Aziraphale being a bit of a bastard despite being an angel, I just don’t see that as sufficient.  I am especially cautious of when it’s my fellow white fans that make this argument, not because I believe they do this out of any sort of malice or hatred of people with dark skin, but because I know first-hand it stems from a dismissiveness rooted in not wanting to think about it for too long because it makes us uncomfortable.  Non-white people do not have the luxury of not thinking about it, because it’s part of their life.

Now the strongest textual evidence people use, in the absence of much real descriptor, is this:

"Many people, meeting Aziraphale for the first time, formed three impressions: that he was English, that he was intelligent, and that he was gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide. Two of these were wrong; Heaven is not in England, whatever certain poets may have thought, and angels are sexless unless they really want to make an effort" 

This piece of art has circulated in the fandom for so long I don’t know the original artist and it’s been used for everything from fancovers to perfume.  This is where I found it and it’s one of the first things that come up when you google this quote about Aziraphale.  

Doesn’t it just feel like this is the man that’s describing, some blonde effeminate gay man?  Well guess what, there’s the “blonde as innocence” trope rearing its ugly head again, because the stereotype of gay men and effeminacy as being a white and blonde thing is--ding ding ding you guessed it--racism.  And why would intelligent suggest a white and blonde person, except if the stereotype of a dark-skinned person is less intelligent?

Now the point of “people assume Aziraphale is British” is another sticking point people will often use, claiming that the stereotype of a British person is white and blonde.  I guess this has some merit, since the British empire was one of the biggest forces behind white colonial expansion, and it seems disingenuous to assign “British” as “nonwhite” as soon as we’re being satirical, in the same way I found it distasteful that the TV show made God female when so many of the criticisms of the church are about its misogyny and lose their teeth as soon as God is no longer male.

However consider that 1.4 million Indian people live in the UK.  I heard a man say aloud once that the concept of a black person having a British accent was a little funny, as though Doctor Who doesn’t exist and have black people on it.  And I’m not overly familiar with the social landscape of the UK, but I understand they’re experiencing a xenophobia boom and non-white Brits aren’t considered “really British.”  The stereotype of non-white people not being British only exists because of reinforcement in media.  If you really want to be subversive, drawing Aziraphale as Indian goes way further than drawing him as white IMO.

Now let’s talk about Crowley.  He is almost always drawn with a darker skin tone than Aziraphale, even when they are both white, and while I’ve outlined above how this is problematic on terms of linking light skin with innocence, I think it does have an extra layer.  I think it also has to do with the exotification and fetishization of brown skin and non-white people.

This artist’s tumblr is gone now but their art is still on dA and while it’s definitely beautiful and well-done, I think this is a very good example of what I’m talking about.

Crowley and Aziraphale necessarily contrast each other, so describing Aziraphale as “British” might suggest that Crowley is “foreign-looking.”  I also know *ahem* that the fandom generally thirsts over Crowley to hell and back, so making him a swarthy, tall dark and handsome is not necessarily surprising.

An interesting thing happened when the TV show came out, and everyone started drawing Michael Sheen!Aziraphale and David Tennant!Crowley more and more often:  It’s not ubiquitous, but it does happen that sometimes artists will draw David Tennant’s skin darker than it actually is.  The subconscious urge to see Crowley with dark skin is for some reason that strong for many people.  And I really encourage people doing this to think about why.  Not naming any names but I’ve working with fanartists before for collabs who I had to ask to lighten “bad guy” demon’s skin tones because it looked like they were making the skin darker on purpose to make them look scarier.  This person is a perfectly pleasant person who tries not to be racist!  And we both still fell into it accidentally, and it took me a while to notice and point it out, because the ingrained stigmatization of darker skin is pervasive yet often goes unnoticed.

What is the solution?  I don’t know, and as a white person I’m not really qualified to make that call.  Do we draw them both with the exact same skin tone?  Is it better to make them both white?  Should we make both of them non-white?  Should we only make Aziraphale non-white?  I am consciously aware of the fact that the Good Omens fandom is mostly white people, so most of the art we make is being both made by and consumed by white people, so I don’t feel comfortable saying “draw these characters of color specifically” because that can also veer into fetishization territory very quickly.  This is not specific to good omens but I think we should pay attention to what fans of color say in all fandom spaces and weigh our choices even if they seem insignificant.  And it’s important to realize that fans of color will not be a monolith in their opinion either, and it’s our responsibility to recognize that everyone can be affected by racism and social issues differently, the same way all women are affected by misogyny differently so just because one woman says such as such is misogynistic and another says it’s not.  I’m sure there are non-white fans who think it’s perfectly fine to draw Aziraphale as white and Crowley as ambiguously non-white.  I’m not saying they’re wrong.  And I’m not saying you can’t reblog this kind of art, or that people who make or made it should feel bad about themselves.  But so often this sort of thing goes unaddressed just because people don’t like thinking about it, and well, avoiding hard questions never really goes well I think.

[send-me-your-hcs]

Forever Ch18

Collab fic with @ceratonia-siliqua (check their blog next week for the next chapter!)

Read on ao3

Warnings: Eventual unhealthy/codependent relationship, possessive behavior, dark themes, check ao3 for additional warnings.

Bucky was elbows deep in his fourth dossier when he heard the floor creak outside his office.

He was quick to minimize the tabs of research he’d been stockpiling on his laptop, covering up anything that might make Peter curious, just moments before the boy softly padded into the room. Bucky pretended to keep reading, fully aware of Peter sneaking up behind him, trying not to smile at how cute his young lover truly was. Peter’s bare feet treaded lightly on the hardwood, but Bucky could still feel him coming closer.

Smirking, Bucky planted his feet.

Peter’s lithe hands gripped the back of the chair and pulled, gently at first, though gaining strength and determination when the wheels didn’t budge. Bucky tried not to laugh as he pretended he couldn’t feel Peter yanking his chair with all his might, trying to pull him back far enough to make room.

“Lemme in,” Peter pleaded, his pouty voice addled with sleep. He must have only just woken from his nap. “Bucky, c’mon, lemme iiiiin!”

“Oh, sorry Pete,” Bucky said with mock-sympathy, lifting his feet and pushing his chair back, away from his desk. “Didn’t see ya there.”

“Liar,” Peter grumbled softly, moving with a dancer’s grace as he swung one leg over Bucky’s thighs, straddling his lap. Bucky pulled the boy a little closer to ensure he was good and snug, then rolled his chair back into place, one arm wrapped securely around Peter’s back, the other lifting his dossier to resume his reading, careful not to let Peter see it.

He wasn’t too worried. Peter was still half-asleep and very focused on other things, currently, like burrowing his face in Bucky’s neck and running his tired hands all over his chest. Bucky dropped a quick kiss to the boy’s bare shoulder (Peter was wearing a shirt, but it was Bucky’s, and it hung off of him like a tent) and ran his hand up and down his back, rubbing gently.

“Sleepy boy,” he praised softly, tickling Peter’s neck and shoulder with his stubble. Peter shivered in his lap, goosebumps rising all the way down to his bare legs. God, Bucky would never get tired of seeing his boy walking around in nothing but a pair of boxers and one of his own shirts. “Why don’t you keep napping if you’re tired, baby?”

Peter yawned into his chest. “Why d’you think ‘m here?” he mumbled, his cheek resting flat against Bucky’s collarbones. “Wanted cuddles. ‘S hard to sleep without you.”

Fuck.

Bucky lowered his head, kissed the junction of Peter’s neck and shoulder. Peter’s skin was so smooth, he couldn’t help but open his mouth, taking that soft, peachy skin between his teeth and sucking, almost absentmindedly. Peter drew a sharp breath and writhed, but Bucky held him still easily, pinning him in his lap as he mouthed at the side of the boy’s throat until it bruised.

“Bucky,” Peter whined. Whether it was for him to stop or to keep going, Bucky didn’t know. Either way, he could feel Peter’s dick tenting the front of his boxers, digging into his stomach, and that was all he needed to know. “You said you had work to do…”

“I can do both,” Bucky promised between bites. He couldn’t keep his mouth off this kid for long. Peter already had a pretty impressive array of hickeys, but Bucky liked to keep them nice and dark. Peter looked good, spotted with his lovebites. Like the most priceless work of art.

The boy pulled away just enough to tilt his head up so Bucky could kiss him. It was slow, and gentle, the way he’d found Peter liked to be kissed. Peter kept his mouth open for him, let Bucky toy with his soft tongue, his own moving to tangle with the boy’s in the open space between their lips.

There was something about simply kissing Peter. Something that went beyond the intimacy of even sex that Bucky couldn’t explain. Kissing Peter made everything tender, almost painfully so. His chest felt too small to contain all the love he felt whenever their lips met. He loved Peter’s softness, his delicacy, how his mouth was naturally sweet, whether Bucky was kissing him first thing in the morning or after dinner or in the throes of sex, it made no difference. Peter was sweet. Sweet and smooth and shy and all his.

When they pulled apart for air, Peter tucked his red face into the crook of his neck, clinging to him. His arms were lax around his neck; his legs loose and hanging over the sides of Bucky’s chair on either side of his hips. Everything about him right now was easy and relaxed, except for how hot his face was burning against Bucky’s neck, and how hard his cock was pressed into Bucky’s stomach.

Bucky smirked.

He had at least a few more hours of work left to do. He knew Pierce would be getting impatient any day now, and he needed to be ready to leave for his first assignment. There was research to be done, plans to be made. He had a rough idea already of what the best course of action would be to get the job done and get home as fast as possible, but a rough idea wasn’t good enough. He needed this plan to be perfect, foolproof. He needed to know exactly what to do and when so that he wasn’t gone for even a second longer than he had to be.

He wouldn’t spend a second longer away from Peter than he had to.

So he still had some work to do before he could give Peter his undivided attention, but that was alright. Right now, it was even favorable - Peter was okay now, but by the time Bucky finished all he needed to do, the boy would probably be a desperate, needy mess. Teenagers weren’t exactly renowned for their patience and self-control when it came to sex, and Peter was absolutely no different. The boy had no restraint to speak of - he was a bit of a hair-trigger, had a tendency to go off without warning once Bucky started playing with him.

Which would make the next few hours all the more sweet.

Bucky picked his file back up and continued to read, keeping his other hand low on Peter’s back, beneath his oversized shirt, playing with the hem of his boxers. Peter sighed happily and nuzzled into his neck, as pliable as a little doll and just as cute.

Peter dozed for a while as Bucky read and rubbed the boy’s back in gentle circles. When he thought Peter might be slipping a little too far into actual sleep territory, Bucky placed a trail of soft kisses over the boy’s shoulder, all the way up the side of his throat to his cheek, where he let his facial hair lightly scrape against Peter’s baby-smooth skin, rousing him.

The boy moaned and shifted in his lap, squirming as he woke up. Bucky kissed the side of his face - his cheek, his temple, the shell of his ear - and moved his hand lower to cup the boy’s ass, kneading the soft flesh there, smirking when Peter’s cock twitched valiantly against his stomach.

The moment Peter lifted his head, Bucky took his mouth in a hungry kiss, stealing a small gasp from Peter’s lips as his mouth was ravaged. Peter tried to kiss back, still bleary from his short nap, but he ended up simply opening his mouth for Bucky’s searching tongue, letting the man do as he wished as he blinked those sleepy doe eyes up at him.

Bucky massaged the sharp jut of Peter’s hipbone with his metal hand, delighting in the shivers that covered the boy’s skin. Peter’s face had flushed that beautiful peachy pink, his breath coming out in small pants when Bucky withdrew from the kiss.

“What was that for?” Peter mumbled. His half-lidded eyes couldn’t seem to leave Bucky’s lips, which had the man grinning.

“Just ‘cause I can,” he said, his voice quiet like a whisper. “I love kissin’ you, baby. Love how red you get when I do. Do I need another reason?”

Peter’s face flushed like he was embarrassed. Bucky trailed the tips of his metal fingers along the pronounced valley of the boy’s thin spine, petting him. “I guess not…”

Bucky smiled, coaxed Peter back into his embrace, gently rubbing his back as he continued to read. Peter eventually settled back down, lulled by Bucky’s warmth and his hand tenderly soothing him. Bucky allowed him to use his shoulder as his personal pillow as the boy’s body returned to its earlier relaxed state.

“Love you,” Peter said sleepily into his shoulder. Bucky hugged him tight around the waist and buried his face in the boy’s unruly hair.

“I love you so much, baby boy. God, you don’t even know. I would do anything for you, Peter. Anything.”

He felt Peter smile against the bare skin of his shoulder. “Even stop working so we can go lay down and cuddle?”

Chuckling, Bucky set his file down and gripped Peter by the backs of his bare thighs, keeping him wrapped around his waist as he stood, exiting the office. “Yeah. Even that.”

—

Their home was coming together.

Some things were still missing. They had painted the master bedroom and ensuite bath, but the living, dining room and kitchen still needed work. The furniture they’d purchased in town had been set up, but the stuff Peter had ordered for them online had yet to arrive. Bucky’s office had a desk and a chair, and a filing cabinet he could lock to ensure Peter would never see the files Pierce gave him, but other than that, most of the interior decorating choices were entirely Peter’s.

He didn’t mind. Bucky was happy to give his opinion when the boy asked for it, and participate enough so that Peter didn’t feel like he had to do all the work, but in truth, he really didn’t care much what the place looked like. Peter was the one who’d be spending the most time here, after all, and while Bucky had his own taste, Peter’s happiness came first. Bucky was more than happy just doing the manual labor of painting and moving furniture and putting things up on high shelves that the boy couldn’t reach, and leaving the rest to his sweetheart.

It was almost comical. Peter was like an expecting mother, the way he was nesting. Bucky assumed it was partly because the boy had never had his own home before, and partly the nerves of living with a significant other for the first time and wanting to make it perfect, but the boy absolutely fussed, about every detail. Every rug, utensil, hand towel and wall art was meticulously chosen, agonized over, rearranged, re-evaluated, and so forth. Peter was almost manic about it, and Bucky would be concerned, if he couldn’t also see that Peter was having a lot of fun with the whole thing.

The boy was happy. He was flourishing here, in the great outdoors, with Bucky at his side. He practically glowed as he moved about the house making sure everything was just right, and while they weren’t quite finished, by the end of their first week, their house was definitely more of a home, instead of just a great big empty building in the woods.

Bucky divided up his time over the following week. A good portion of it was spent compiling his research and preparing to leave, because he planned to start his first assignment once the two-week mark hit, when he was sure Pierce would lose his patience. He spent hours in his office, careful not to let Peter see what he was working on, all the photos he’d amassed of his future victims. He told the boy he was merely planning for his first work trip, which was only sort of a lie, and fortunately Peter didn’t seem to suspect a thing.

The rest of his time, naturally, he spent with Peter. As close as he could get. They did everything together - he feared, more than once, that the boy would grow ornery and demand his space, but Peter seemed as desperate for his contact as Bucky was for his.

They ate together. They showered together. They cuddled together, watched TV together, slept together. They explored the property together, basked in the sunlight together. They painted together and assembled furniture together. They cooked together, they watched the stars together. Peter seemed content for it to never stop, and Bucky would die before he’d let it.

It was everything he had ever wanted, Bucky couldn’t even name his favorite part. He loved waking up with Peter - the unbearable sweetness, of that, of watching the morning light shine through their bedroom window and paint Peter’s pale skin honey-gold, the way his dark eyelashes would flutter like a butterfly’s wings against his cheeks as he blinked his eyes open.

Bucky loved him so much, sometimes all he could do was pull the boy tighter against him and cry silently into his hair. Sometimes he had to lean down and kiss the boy hungrily as soon as those amber eyes opened, unable to wait anymore. Sometimes he woke up still buried inside Peter’s body, and would wake him with the gentle motion of his hips, watching raptly as that face contorted in perfect pleasure, even in sleep.

Their mornings were perfect. But the days they spent together were easily just as good. He loved hearing Peter speak. He loved the way Peter got so excited about everything he could think of to say, the way he would chatter and babble for hours, while Bucky happily listened. Peter was sweet. He was funny. He was so damn smart, it made Bucky’s head spin. Every word out of his mouth only made Bucky more grateful that they met, that he got to have him, that Peter loved a creature like him. The days they spent together were indescribable for how much he cherished him.

Some days they went into town, though they were careful to dress Peter appropriately. The boy’s disappearance was still the number one news story playing on every screen. Thankfully, they still suspected Westcott - though of course, they hadn’t found him yet, and never would. He’d made damn sure of that.

Two days ago, they’d gone to the little diner downtown and ordered takeout. Peter had stayed in the car while Bucky grabbed their food, and then they drove west, up to the little lake outside of town. Peter had brought one of the new linens they’d bought, they used it as a picnic blanket as they ate by the water, watching the water fowl swim and play. They swam and laid in the sun, and made love after watching the sun set over the treeline. Peter had fallen asleep on the drive home, head tipped against the window, bundled in Bucky’s jacket.

That night, like every night, they made dinner together and talked and laughed as they ate. After they cleaned up, Peter hooked the laptop up to the TV (he was so incredibly smart, Bucky never would have thought of that) and they watched a movie or some show Bucky had never seen, cuddling on the new sofa they’d bought. If they didn’t end up making love there, they usually did in the shower or bath, or once they retired to bed, or - more than once - all three in one night. Bucky’s stamina shouldn’t have been as high as it was, but Peter was so fucking sexy, he drove him wild, made his blood pump harder and hotter, sometimes it felt like he’d be turned on for the rest of his life.

Every minute he spent with the boy was perfect. Every single one was his favorite, there was no way to compare them all. Even the “bad” moments - when Peter would see something upsetting on the news, or wake from a nightmare, or get so agitated that he said it felt like was about to crawl out of his skin, Bucky could always make him feel better, comfort him, make the hurt go away, and there was pleasure in that too, in its own way. A sense of purpose, of pride. Something he could hold dear, no matter how bad it started.

Which was why leaving for his first assignment was easily the hardest thing he had ever done.

“Do you have to?” Peter asked, his voice quiet and sad. He stood in his boxers and Bucky’s oversized shirt, clutching the man’s duffel bag to his chest, as if he could thwart Bucky’s attempt to leave by holding onto it. “The house isn’t even done yet. Can’t work wait a little longer?”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Bucky said, as genuine as he’d ever been. “I’ve already made them wait longer than I probably should have. I don’t want to leave either, but we’ll need money to keep the lights on and the fridge full. Please try to understand.”

The pout on the boy’s face killed him. Peter looked absolutely crestfallen, though he tried to force a smile, eyes glistening as he held Bucky’s bag out to him. “I understand,” he said, his voice thick, like his chest was too tight to push the words out. “I’m just really, really gonna miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you so fucking much, baby.” Bucky swung the bag over his shoulder and pulled the boy in by his waist, kissing him and hugging him tight. “I’ll call you every single day. You remember where you put the burner phone we got you?”

“Uh huh. It’s right by the bed.”

“Carry it with you, okay?” Bucky kissed his forehead, gently pushed his wayward curls out of his eyes. “I wanna know I’ll be able to reach you in case of an emergency or something.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Good.” Bucky tipped his face up and kissed him, gentle, the way Peter loved. “I love you so much. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay. I love you too,” Peter said. He was trying so hard to hide the fact that his eyes were wet, Bucky had to turn away and walk through the door, scared that spending even another second looking at that heartbroken little face would kill him.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised, watching Peter wave sadly as he shut the door.

Bucky took two steps towards the porch stairs and stopped. He turned, looked back at the door. At the keypad beside it. He’d disabled the locks the moment Pierce left, but now, about to leave for at least a week and a half…

What if…

What if.

Inside, some feral, desperate part of him begged him to enable the locks, terrified of the unknown, of what might happen the moment he left Peter’s side.

But the rest of him knew his boy would be waiting for him when he got back, right where he left him.

Gritting his teeth, Bucky turned away from the door, got into his car, and drove away.

[missdelphinilestrange]

1ST  RULE   —   tag some muses you would like to know better.

@crucioslut @tmvoldemort @lokilaufeysonslytherin @thestrongestmagic

2ND  RULE   —   BOLD the statements that are true for your muse.

current muse. Bellatrix Black - Bellatrix Lestrange

fc.  For this blog there is no face claim

occupation.  Student at Hogwarts, War Lieutenant / Dark Witch, Lieutenant to the Ruler of the Wizardry world, Delphi’s mother

age.  47 years old - Born. 1951 - 1998

Sexuality. Bisexual

APPEARANCE:

i am 5’7 or taller

i wear glasses

i have at least one tattoo - Azkaban tattoo on my neck, and a small rose tattoo on my left shoulder with this saying “i’m as pretty as a rose as long as you can look past the thorns that are my flaws” (not many know about the last tattoo)

i have at least one piercing - both my ears are pierced, along with the top of my left ear

i have blonde hair

i have short hair

my abs are at least somewhat defined - only because I workout a lot

i have or have had braces

PERSONALITY:

i  love  meeting  new  people

people tell me that i’m funny - humor is the only way I can really cope with my childhood trauma, so I’m often told I’m funny

helping  others  with  their  problems  is  a  big  priority  for  me - usually only with my sisters, or very close family. when Sirius broke out of Azkaban, I gave him a bit of my food that way he would have a bit of energy before going on the run, but I told him to tell no one I helped him

i  enjoy  physical  challenges - it’s something that’s always been enjoyable for me, because going to the gym used to be the only way for me to escape my strict and controlling parents

i  enjoy  mental challenges - I’ve always been very intelligent above my years, and I set records in Hogwarts for perfect scores in all classes for my OWLs and NEWTs, so even as an adult, it’s fun to get a challenge

i’m  playfully  rude  with  people  i  know  well - I’ve always been playfully rude or sarcastic to people I know well, because I can’t do that around my strict parents since they always said “sarcasm isn’t ladylike” or “acting like that won’t get you a husband” and my close friends and family know that I’m unruly and they accept me for that, which is why I act different in public than I do around my close friends and family

i  started  saying  something  ironically  &  now  i  can’t  stop  saying  it - I always say “just because I kill people doesn’t mean that you can” to my youngest sister whenever she gets mad at someone. Ever since I watched Toy Story 2, whenever someone asks if I’m calling them a liar, I always say “well, if the boot fits” and then they usually punch me

there  is  something  i  would  change  about  my  personality - I wish I had the ability to stop rolling my eyes at every person I don’t like

ABILITIES:

i can sing well - singing as a child always helped me deal with whatever I was going through, so I started taking singing lessons

i can play an instrument - piano, guitar, flute, and violin

i  can  do  over  30  push–ups  without  stopping - I often did push-up competitions with my friends and cousins as a child, and from that, I’ve gotten quite strong

i’m a fast runner - I used to run away from my problems as a child: quite literally, because when my parents would scream at me I’d start running away, so I learned to have a lot of stamina from a young age and run really fast

i can draw well - I always liked to draw pictures of my little sisters, and I ended up getting really good at it

i have good memory - I have really good memory, but a terrible attention span

i’m good at doing math in my head

i  can  hold  my  breath  underwater  for  over  a  minute - This is because I used to go underwater while swimming and pull people down by their ankles just to scare the shit out of them because it’s funny. I stopped doing that though when I got kicked in the face

i  have  beaten  at  least  2  people  in  arm  wrestling - this is because they’re either weak, or I cheated by kicking their shins which distracted them

i know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch

i know how to throw a proper punch - I’ve always been very strong, and I learned how to punch by doing boxing with one of my older cousins. many people talked bad about Andromeda after she was removed from the family in the summer before my seventh year at Hogwarts, and since I knew how to punch really well, I ended up sending a lot of kids to the hospital wing that year (probably a few hundred). After Sirius was removed from the family, I got in a lot of fights with my fellow death eaters because they were talking shit about him and it made me mad. Needless to say, people don’t DARE talk bad about anyone in my family anymore.

HOBBIES:

i enjoy playing sports - Quidditch

i’m  on  a  sports  team  at  my  school  or  somewhere  else - During Hogwarts, Slytherin Chaser for Quidditch

i’m  in  an  orchestra  or  choir  at  my  school  or  somewhere  else

i’ve learned a new song in the past week

i work out at least once a week - I started working out as a kid (about 8 years old) because I wanted an excuse to get away from my parents. Then, when I was 10, the reason I worked out was because I was skinny but I didn’t have much muscle. When I was 12, the reason for me working out was because I was insecure about how short and skinny I was, and I wanted to be stronger that way I could beat the shit out of anyone that made fun of me for it.

i go on runs at least once a week - running was the way I got away from my problems as a kid, and I guess it just stuck with me

i  have  drawn  something  in  the  past  month - I drew a picture of my little girl, Delphi, playing with the flowers in the garden

i enjoy writing - writing helps me to get rid of all the stress and anxiety that I always try to hide

i do or have done martial arts

EXPERIENCES:

i have had my first kiss - first year, I kissed Rabastan to see if Rodolphus would get jealous. It backfired and Rabastan ended up in the hospital wing. I guess Rodolphus was jealous.

i have had alcohol - when I was in my first year, a seventh year I was friends with sneaked a bottle of whiskey into the dormitory during one of the house parties. I’m just amazed we didn’t get caught

i  have  scored  the  winning  goal  in  a  sports  game - in my second year during quidditch, right before the other team caught the snitch, I scored ten points, and because of that my team still won even thought the other team had the snitch

i have watched an entire season of a tv show in one sitting

i have been to an overnight event - Slumberparty at a friends house

i have been in a taxi

i  have  been  in  the  hospital  or  er  in  the  past  year - I had to visit someone I beat up that way he wouldn’t press charges. In my defense, before I even hit the guy, he tauntingly said “what are you gonna do, hit me?” so it’s his own fault for being dumb enough to say that

i have beaten a video game in one day

i have been to another country - Germany, France, Italy

i  have  been  to  one  of  my  favorite  band’s  concerts

RELATIONSHIPS:

i am in a relationship - Voldemort and Rodolphus

i have a crush on a celebrity

i have a crush on someone I know

i have been in at least 3 relationships - 100s throughout Hogwarts years

i have never been in a relationship

i  have  asked  someone  out  or admitted  my  feelings  to  them - Admitted feelings for Voldemort

i get crushes easily - especially throughout Hogwarts years

i  have  had  a  crush  on  someone  for  over  a  year - Voldemort

i have been in a relationship for over a year - Rodolphus and Voldemort simultaneously

i have had feelings for a friend - many times, especially during Hogwarts years

MY LIFE:

i have at least one person i consider a best friend - Narcissa

i live close to my school - only during Hogwarts years

my parents are still together - for some unknown reason, but yes

i have / had at least one sibling - two: Andromeda and Narcissa

i live in the United States

there is snow right now where I live

i  have  hung  out  with  a  friend  in  the  past  month - Narcissa

i have a smartphone

i have at least 15 CDs - Mostly classical music, but a few are American muggle music (but no one knows about the muggle songs, and they never will)

i share my room with someone - only during thunderstorms: sometimes thunderstorms are scary due to childhood trauma, so those nights are usually spent cuddled next to Narcissa for comfort and safety

RANDOM STUFF:

i  have break danced

i know a person named Jamie

i have  had  a  teacher  with  a  last  name  that’s  hard  to  pronounce - as a child, the French piano teacher the Black family hired Jakob Fínêtyeá

i have dyed my hair - multiple times. once because Sirius and Lucius teamed up and put brown hair dye in my shampoo, and followed me around for weeks calling me Andromeda. the second time my hair was dyed was recently when Lucius put purple hair dye in my shampoo and followed me around calling me Nympadora Tonks

i’m  listening  to  one  song  on  repeat  right  now - “Teenagers” by My Chemical Romance because I’m emo as hell

i  have  punched  someone  in  the  past  week - Lucius when he put purple hair dye in my shampoo and followed me around calling me Nympadora Tonks. Narcissa then yelled at me because I broke Lucius’s nose

i know someone that has gone to jail - me, and majority of my family / friends

i have broken a bone - (as an adult, running an errand that required to go to Hogwarts) the reason was because someone was talking behind Sirius’s back saying that he’s a disgrace to the Pureblood name, and I got in a fight with that kid. Sirius saw that both of us were bruised and bloody, but I didn’t tell him why, and I never will

i have eaten a waffle today - yes because I have a terrible sweet tooth

i know what I want to do with my life - as a student: teacher, artist, actress, ministry worker: unspeakable or working with magical objects. as an adult: writer, lieutenant death eater, artist, spell maker, singer, musician (not many people know about any of my jobs other than being a lieutenant death eater)

i know at least 2 languages (fluently) - English, German, French, Italian, Gaelic, Russian, Greek, Latin, Spanish (I come from a very culturally knowledgeable family, and intelligence is very important, henceforth why I know so many languages)

Idea From: @tmvoldemort

[airariaira]

Troisième - 12/02/20

It’s been more than a month, and holy heck time has truly flown. Yet somehow I feel like I have been here for a while, too. I’m feeling more settled and comfortable here in Troyes - I can get to and from school fine, and I don’t jump up with fright at every bus stop on the way home alone, worried about missing my stop! I couldn’t even imagine getting lost now. I feel confident enough to explore a bit more, and this afternoon I took a walk a little in town and along the Seine, because the weather was gorgeous. That was of course until i was 15 minutes away from home and the wind picked up, then suddenly there was needles of rain soaking through my jacket and my bag and my jeans. Honestly, I felt very personally attacked by the weather at that point. On a day that only a few hours earlier had looked like this from my window?:

It was so gorgeous outside with my window open, I could hear the traffic and the birds and the breeze - the air coming in was a little cold, but in that nice fresh winter way. I couldn’t possibly not go outside. So, after my two hours of school this morning (Philosophy and English Literature), I decided to go on a little walk exploring:

^A padlock fence I saw while walking along the river

^This is one of the ol chimneys from the 19th-century factories in Troyes. Troyes has been a city famous for producing clothing and goods for hundreds of years, and you can see these bad boys pop up all around. I also met some cute new friends:

So what if these new friends are paintings of cats on the streets? This is MY blong, you’re not allowed to judge me.

Since my last blog post, a fair amount has happened, I’ll catch you all up... Which won’t be too hard for me to do, seeing as I started writing a travel diary to keep up to date with what I’ve been doing - unlike Mr Alex Gasson it seems, as he wrote in his blog (which, by the way, you can find on this link here) Lets go all the way back to Saturday the 26th of January, the morning of which I wrote my last blog post. That afternoon we took a trip out to my host family’s house by the lake (called La Lac d’Orient) in the pretty, historic village of Géraudot only a little while away from Troyes. We went for a walk around the nearby forest, which was gorgeous. We heard a woodpecker, too.

The lake is man-made, not natural, and is where water from the Seine is redirected to avoid flooding out Paris each year. On the shore, there’s a small plastic path down to the water to make the lake more accessible for those with disabilities. I thought that was good, I’m surprised I’ve never seen anythign like it before. 

Following the walk, we went back to the house for a coffee and a board game. That evening on the way back to the city, we stopped by the outlet store shopping centre. I found a little bit of home there...

(I pinkie promise that the bag has gifts in it! For other people!) Sunday the 26th was a slightly warmer day, which I suppose was a bit of a last hurrah, because the forcast for the following week was not so good. On that day I went out with my host mother Marie, we went to another museum. This is in a building called Hôtel de Vauluisant, which houses both the Musée d’Art Champenois, and the Musée de la Bonneterie. The art section was so phenomenally beautiful - filled with old paintings and sculptures and stained glass from the many many churches in Troyes. The section on Troyes’ factory and bonneterie history had many machines from the early factories of the city. This is the area outside of the building:

After that, we went to a beautiful church just across the road from the museum. The inside of the church took me aback for two reasons. One, because if was so incredibly beautiful inside, filled to abundance with enormous paintings, sculptures, and flowers. Two, because it was so freaking cold inside. I coud see my breath cloud out probabaly more dramatically than it has during any winter commute to school in New Zealand. That said though, it was definitely worth the visit. I never knew churches could be so decked-out in beautiful things. I don’t think a picture could capture how pretty it was, but here you go anyway:

Monday the 27th was a pretty standard French school day. I ended up with a bit of a migraine so had a quiet day. That evening we (my host siblings Lola and Antoine, and my host mother Marie) did some English revision for Antoine’s upcoming English exam, which was fun. Tuesday the following day was another good school day. I had a lot of free hours, so I went into town for a while. Wednesday was of course my short day. That afternoon I went out with two new friends, Cheyenne and Alicia, to the museum and town. It was good fun! Cheyenne and I at the museum:

The weekend of the 1st/2nd was good. On Sunday in the afternoon we went bowling. The cousin of my host siblings, who’s from Boston and living in Paris for a year, came and joined us. Her name is Noa, and she stayed from Sunday to Wednesday to celebrate her birthday. On Monday I finally handed out the rest of my New Zealand souvenirs in my English class. At lunchtime I sat with Juliette and some others. Juliette lived in Christchurch for a year a little while ago! Tuesday the 4th was Noa’s birthday. School was interesting, with lots of free periods spaced out throughout the day (awkward timing!) We couldn’t find a spare classroom for French Literature which was weird?? That evening, we celebrated Noa’s birthday with raclette and then cake. On Wednesday she left back for Paris - I wonder if one day we’ll meet again in this big old world? That evening I went wandering around town with Marie for a while again, and I got a photo in front of the famous Cœur de Troyes:

It lights up at night and the red light beats like a heart. I’ll be interested to see how many couples will be taking their pictures in front of it on Friday for Valentine’s Day! Last Friday I walked to the bus stop with a new appreciation for how pretty the city is. I start school at 9, so get to see the way the morning sun hits the old buildings so beautifully. The sky was so blue and the light so nice, I don’t know if a camera could capture it quite so perfectly:

And on Saturday the 8th... Paris!!! I travelled over with my host sister Lola, and we met Marie there. The day seemed to last for so long while it was happening, but somehow I found myself suddenly sitting on the train back to Troyes again. Now, it feels like it went by so fast. We started with the Tour Eiffel, naturally, where I took a video - and unintentionally caught someone proposing! Everything there was so big and old and impressive - it sumultaneously felt surreal, and like it was exactly where I was meant to be. 

Following the Eiffel Tower, we took a short cruise on the Seine on the Bateau Mouches to sightsee a little bit. It was so bitterly cold and windy on the water, but the sculptures and cuildings and bridges were pretty enough to make up for it. Here’s a picture of a scaled-down model of the Statue of Liberty, and the Eiffel Tower in the same frame:

After lunch, we had our little indulgence in consumerism by going to the Galleries Lafayette, where all the expensive brands and rich are piled into one big, pretty shopping centre. It was sparkly and dazzling, and I don’t think I’ve every been surrounded by so many expensive things in my life before. It smelled like money and every kind of perfume all at once. Just how Jay Gatsby would have liked it. Here’s me on the roof:

It was such a long way down! After that, we went to the Arc de Triomphe. It’s so incredibly huge in person. It was wonderful to see all of the avenues surrounding me while on the roof (getting rained on... am I making a habit of that?) The rain didn’t drain my spirits, however. It was so cool to admire the bustle of Parisian life happening all below me. 

The view from the top:

(I think the stairs were worth it... I’m not sure what the other two think though...   🤔)

I was so tired after that big day that on the train ride back home I just stared into space for the entire hour and a half! Throughout the day, I kept waiting for one of those slack-jawed tourist moments to hit me, a feeling of helpless amazement when I looked at some monument or the like. But it didn’t - perhaps I’m just better at enjoying travel in a slow, contented kind of way. The rain in Paris on Saturday would prove to be the beginning of a storm that would last a few days. On Monday the 10thI was very happy to be sitting inside, writing my travel diary, rather than outside in that rain and wind I could hear against the roof and walls. All in all, I’ve been really enjoying my time on exchange. Sometimes I do truly feel a little out of my depth - like I’m wasting my time here is I speak much English, but I just can’t always articulate myself fully in French. Sometimes I feel a little out of place and behind when I’m around my peers and they’re speaking such rapic French. However, it does get easier each day. I feel happy and comfortable here.

Here’s some more photos, just so I can flex on my people back in New Zealand about how pretty this city is...

^A fountain the bus goes past each day, taken on one of the rare occasions that the bus isn’t packed to the brim and I manage to grab a seat!

^A pretty sculpture in town

^A church with a gorgeous roof that’s just behind the house

^Some more pretty houses (gosh I must look like such a weirdo taking pictures of all these buildings)

^A pretty street in pretty afternoon light

^A very ~zenn~ little square nestled in buildings in town

Aaand last but not least...

A prime example of the memes and doodles that are copied onto the blackboard during recreation. (Shh - don’t tell the teacher who drew what!) Until next time!

[lucarioisinthevoid]

hi, me again– i decided to be a sneak and make something for your birthday anyway >:) i wanted to finish it much sooner, but me and my mom are currently working on the isolation of our house (styrofoam etc), as the builders we hired ditched us. that said, i have very little free time this week. but luckily i managed to make this on breaks! sorry for rambling, oops. once again, i hope you enjoy this and have a great day! (added in a new ask) oops i wanted to say this in my submission's description, but i got stressed and goofed up-- i decided to draw some davesport for you bc i LOVE the way you write them. their dynamic, their interactions, their individual feelings and how you describe them, it's PERFECT. you are such a talented writer (i don't say it often enough!). that's it, haha. sorry for sending it seperately ^^ - (Submission by @coffee-bat , hope you don't mind I connected your messages into one!) HOLY SHIT YOU DID IT YOU MADMAN DID IT HOW ARE YOU INSANE?! WITHIN THE SAME DAMN DAY- GOD, I'M JUST- HOW DO I- TALENTED WRITER MY ASS I CAN'T EVEN PROPERLY USE WORDS TO EMOTE HOW DAMN HAPPY I AM. I WANT TO SCREAM, I REALLY DIDN'T EXPECT THAT. I'm going to get an ego from this, I swear. Getting gifted such amazing art, something that had taken years to come to this point and a good chunk of time to create- People are spoiling me and I'm just- WHAT CAN I SAY ASIDE FROM THANK YOU? THAT I'D SACRIFICE MY LIFE TO YOU? DOES THAT COME OFF AS TOO STRONG? Also, that sounds incredibly annoying with being ditched like that. I'm glad you managed doing the rest by hand, but there should be some rules against just being ditched! I hope you'll get some justice, karma shall come and get their asses. If you wanna rant, I'm here and not going anywhere! I can only imagine the frustration that builds up because of stuff like this. Next time you’ll spot the warning signs sooner and avoid that awful type of company. Also, while there you can give me the DATE. MAKES IT EVEN MORE AMAZING THAT YOU DREW THIS. YOU HAD SO LITTLE TIME AND THEN YOU SACRIFICED MOST OF IT TO CREATE SOMETHING FOR ME- I'M SPEECHLESS, I'M ON AN ENDLESS LOOP OF THINKING "HOLY SHIT!" AND "AMAZING" AND "CHRIST, I DID NOT DESERVE SUCH A BLESSING BUT I TAKE IT" DON'T SAY SORRY FOR RAMBLING! I LOVE THEM! I LOVE PEOPLE INTERACTING WITH ME! IT'S AN HONOR AND A PLEASURE, ESPECIALLY WITH YOU! ALSO, I RAMBLE ALWAYS 3 TIMES AS MUCH. IT'S OKAY ON THIS BLOG. That it stressed you out is alien to me- something IRL I presume? Otherwise you should never be stressed about sending me anything >:0 I saw god himself, I am immune against everything- EXCEPT FLATTERY, WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME. The dsaf community has attracted many talented writers! Lots of them with wonderful Dave's and Jacks- To be quite sincere, I genuinely struggle with them and feel like I'm writing them clumsily. Mainly because my Old Sport is not taking from the canon and more from the player options, making him a VERY wild card- it comes to a point in which I wonder if people are sometimes bothered and if I write him weirdly- Hearing that you think I'm doing so well and that I nail how they feel on their own and as a team, their odd and slightly unpredictable chemistry- My hands are shaking and I had to correct so many spelling errors that I probably didn’t even all catch because I'm trying to type so fast- I NEED TO CALM DOWN BUT IT'S PRETTY MUCH IMPOSSIBLE. I LOVE WRITING THE GOOFS, THE EVIL, FUN, TORN BASTARDS. THOSE CHILDISH, CRAZY BOMB-PEOPLE. And god fucking dammit do I love the picture. I love how you draw bodies, hair, poses, expressions- YOU PERFECTLY NAILED THEM. Dave just a happy, laughing mess, while Old Sport, the lovestruck fool, between fully out of it in his affection and "goddammit Dave"- EVERYTHING is in this picture. I CAN FEEL HIS LOVE THROUGH THE WAY THEY ARE WITH EACH OTHER AND THAT IS SOMETHING TRULY SPECIAL! I do not regret having been greedy now, even if it's a big character flaw- I APPRECIATE IT! I LOVE IT! I WILL ALWAYS CARRY IT AROUND WITH ME! EVERYTHING I WILL SAY FROM NOW ON WILL ONLY BE REPEATING ITSELF, BECAUSE I FEEL THE NEED TO SAY IT AGAIN AND AGAIN- SO I SHALL STOP BEFORE THIS GETS ENDLESS. But you better give me the date, otherwise I will write you something at random throughout the year and you will never ever be prepared for when it comes- This is not an empty threat, friend. I have Wordpad and access to your blog and I will use it. You better submit your birthdate willingly. This is your last warning.

[quicksilversquared]

Keeping Up With the Ladyblog

A reporter has to adapt and improvise. It's an important skill to learn, especially when one is a reporter who is still in school and can't skip out to film all of the akuma battles without getting grounded. So Alya gets creative and starts using old security camera footage of akuma attacks. It keeps the Ladyblog active and maybe, just maybe, she'll finally get her scoop of a lifetime.

links in the reblog

Initially, setting up the Ladyblog and getting a devoted userbase had been a bit of an uphill battle. Even though Alya had gotten noticed right away with her footage from the first fight, that didn't guarantee her a permanent position as the best-known blog on Paris's superheroes. Not covering a few fights would mean that someone else could sneak in and steal her spot, so that meant that even if she missed a little school here and there (or had to drag her sisters along during a fight), it was worth it. She had to stay on top of all things Ladybug and right then, that meant getting the best coverage of as many fights as she could physically manage and writing up good, thought-provoking articles for when there was a slow day or two.

(Of course, there were other problems that she had to deal with as well. Alya had to put together a functioning site that was user-friendly, could handle the traffic that she was getting, and offered everything that anyone could possibly want from an official superhero blog, because there was no. way. Alya was going to lose traffic just because some other blog had one option or another that she didn't have or because her blog went down from traffic overload at a critical moment. There were some places that she drew the line- she didn't accept fanfiction of the superheroes, because they were real people and therefore it would be weird, and only appropriate art was allowed- but she had to add all sorts of options so that people who visited the Ladyblog would come back over and over again. It was a lot of work and all had to be done fairly quickly, which meant that her homework sometimes got pushed off until later than it should have.)

Alya didn't consider setting up the blog itself to be that big of a problem, though. Software could usually be battered into submission if she worked on it for long enough, and as long as she didn't try any system updates to the Ladyblog when a lot of people were using it, short outages were usually not a big deal. It was the content that was more of a problem, especially now that her parents (and teachers) were on her back about not skipping school just to film attacks.

She just had to get creative.

Originally, Alya had considered trying to use her fame from being the sole moderator of the Ladyblog to see if she could get a get-out-of-class-free card during the attacks. Her teachers could just check her blog to make sure that she wasn't abusing the pass, she figured, and it wasn't as though most of her classes would be that hard to make up. But it didn't take long before Alya realized that that was just a pipe dream. No teacher would just let her go whenever just so she could keep up a blog when there were professional reporters out there as well that could film the attacks just as well (though Alya would argue with that). Besides, she sometimes had to bike across town to try to get footage, and there were times when it took so long that Ladybug and Chat Noir were already done when she got there. Without any footage, it was a waste of her time.

She had to play it smart. She couldn't just take footage from news channels, but what if there was other footage out there, unseen by most of the public? The Ladyblog already used fan submissions. People took pictures and videos of the superheroes all the time, and most didn't have any interest in starting their own superhero blog but were willing enough to share their superhero content online. Alya always spent a chunk of time every day sorting through the submissions and organizing them by akuma for easy reference.

Still, that wasn't quite enough. Alya had to go above and beyond if she didn't want to be replaceable.

Asking Mr. Kubdel about getting security camera footage from the Louvre partway through the year was a stroke of pure genius on her part. Getting it was a combination of luck, her fame as the Ladyblogger, and the fact that she knew Alix.

"They don't have the best angles in the world," Alya told Nino three days after Mr. Kubdel agreed to her request. She had just gotten the footage from all of the security cameras for the time frames of the last few akuma attacks that had gone through the museum, and digging through the video to find clips of the actual fight was taking a while. Some parts she could just fast-forward through, since the superheroes didn't go into that particular room, but she couldn't go too fast or she could miss the superheroes flashing by. "But I can't really complain. No one has any video of any of these fights yet, so this is incredible."

"It was super-nice of Mr. Kubdel to agree to it," Nino said as he watched the video over her shoulder. "Are you- whoop, there goes Chat Noir."

"Am I what?" Alya asked as she marked down the time Chat Noir entered and when he exited. "Ooh, look, that's a cool akuma!"

"It is a pretty cool design," Nino agreed. "Are you going to ask other places if you can get security camera videos from them, too? Like, there's some places that seem to have a lot of akuma fights go through them. School, the Eiffel Tower, the Grand Paris-"

Alya's eyes lit up at the mention of the last place. "Ooh! D'you think I could wrangle some footage of Chloe as Antibug? I kind of want to see some footage of her getting her ass handed to her by Ladybug and Chat Noir."

Nino cringed slightly. "...yeah, I wouldn't phrase it like that when you ask Mr. Bourgeois about it if I were you. He might say no just because of it." He considered that for a second, then added, "Actually, come to think of it, a lot of the akuma that pop up at his hotel tend to be after Chloe, right? So maybe he would say no if most of the footage you get is of Chloe being tormented, no matter how funny you find it. And he's not going to have anything from inside of the guest rooms, just the hallways and dining areas and whatnot."

Alya sniffed. "I'd be professional and include as much of the fight as I could find. Any compilations of Chloe being pursued by angry akumas would be completely unofficial and only posted to an anonymous YouTube account. Which I would then share with you guys, of course."

Nino laughed.

"I think I could persuade him to help, though," Alya decided, going back to the Louvre videos. "He's nice enough when Chloe isn't pushing him around. I'd just have to ask when Chloe isn't there. Maybe I could ask Sabrina's father for help to get footage from other places." She squinted at the screen, then stopped the video for a moment. Nino looked over and saw that it had gone all blurry and pixilated.

He frowned. "Uh, what happened to it? Is the file corrupted?"

"I don't know. It's happened a couple times before on other files, once near the start of this fight and twice again near the end of the first fight I looked at. I don't know what causes it." Alya rewound a little so she could get the last good frame of the superheroes and record the time so she could cut it there. "And... I know I kind of gave up on exposing Ladybug and Chat Noir's identities on the Ladyblog, but I kind of thought that I might catch them detransforming on the security cams. I wasn't going to post that part online, of course, but still..."

"Maybe they're just really good at moving out of the area first," Nino suggested. "That's gotta be tough, actually. I never thought about it. But there's so many cameras in buildings like that nowadays that they have to be super-careful so they don't get seen by others or by cameras!"

"They're bound to slip up sometime," Alya grumbled, opening another file and starting to fast-forward through it. "I really hope I don't miss an attack when I'm working on this. Like, it's gonna be great for my blog to have this footage and all, but it's the live stuff that people like the most."

  The first of the spliced-together security camera footage hit the Ladyblog almost a week after Alya got the first batch of raw video. There was an immediate spike of interest, though, as Alya complained to Nino as they waited for Adrien and Marinette to arrive to work on their group project, some people were whining about favoritism getting her the tapes.

"It was just because I asked first," Alya grumbled, scrolling through the comments. "Because I thought of it first. And- oh! I forgot to tell you! Mr. Bourgeois said yes, I just have to figure out the dates and times of old attacks myself and give them to his security people. And I talked to the principal too, and to Sabrina's father. Mr. Damocles said yes, and Sabrina's father said that he would ask his supervisor and also people at Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower about the security cameras at their individual sites." She was grinning now, momentary irritation gone. "It's gonna be a beast going through everything and getting my homework done, but it'll be worth it."

Nino frowned. "Are all of them gonna give you footage from past attacks? Some might discard video once a certain amount of time passes, or they might think that it's too much work to go back that far to get you the files."

Alya shrugged, face dropping slightly. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Still, going through the past stuff I do get plus new stuff is gonna be hard. At least spring break is coming up soon. Ish. Kinda. And then I can really plow through stuff once it's summer."

"You're gonna vanish into your room and never come out again," Nino joked. "You'll get all pale from lack of sun."

"I still gotta go out for livestreaming attacks," Alya reminded him. "And once I don't have homework to do, I don't think it'll take that long to mark and edit stuff. I can get through one per day for sure, maybe more. I can do it while I babysit my sisters, as long as they don't want to go anywhere."

Nino snorted. "Right, and the chances that they won't want to go out to the park or on a walk?" He shook his head at her. "But I can help with the timing stuff, so you can just focus on the splicing things together."

Alya grinned and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. "That would be great, Nino! Thank you so much!"

"You'll have to tell me how you want it done sometime before I start, but it really shouldn't be a problem," Nino assured her, grinning as he returned the kiss. "Though maybe we'll have time for you to show me before Adrien and Marinette arrive. Where are they, anyway?"

Alya just shrugged. "Who knows. I texted Marinette ten minutes ago to remind her we would be meeting, but no response yet. She might be in the middle of a project, and if she is, I don't wanna startle her. Last time I called her when she was busy sewing, she got started by her phone ringing and stabbed herself with a pin."

Nino cringed. "Ow. Yeah, I texted Adrien too, but no dice. No idea what he might be doing- oh, wait, here they come. Finally."

"And from the same direction too, hmm? Interesting!" Alya slid her laptop back into her bag and stood up, grinning as she watched Adrien and Marinette approach. "And neither of their houses are in that direction, either."

"We're here to study, not interrogate them," Nino reminded her. "Midterms, remember?"

"Oh, but come on-"

"You can interrogate them after, once we've gotten our studying done," Nino pointed out, grinning. "But I actually want to pass my classes, thank you very much."

  There were times when Alya almost regretted starting to post the security camera footage. It was a lot to handle and process, and it ended up cutting into her article-writing time, which, well, she really liked writing those articles. It was one of the things that set the Ladyblog apart. But the old footage was popular, particularly when there was no good news coverage of the fight, and she could always prioritize which fights to edit together and which could maybe be set aside until she had more time.

It was after Alya was first tapped to become Rena Rouge when she realized how great of an idea it had been to start including the security footage from attacks on the Ladyblog. She couldn't cover her own fights- well, not that she was called for many of the akuma attacks, really- but she could still provide that footage, and it wasn't as though she had only started with that kind of footage after she became a superhero, so it wasn't going to raise any suspicion.

Well. Much suspicion, at least. There might be a few people who wondered why she could never cover Rena Rouge's fights, but there had been few enough of them so far that the pattern wouldn't be apparent. And if it continued- which, well, she hoped that it would- then she could always use her much improved video editing skills to "interview" Rena Rouge in person.

She was sure that Ladybug would let her borrow the Miraculous for a little extra time if she mentioned the need to throw people off of her trail. After all, Ladybug was very big on secrecy.

Most of the time, though, Alya loved her stroke of brilliance. It had been worth the security checks to make sure that she could be trusted with the security footage, and she had managed to shore up her views again. Future employers would see that she was focused and willing to put in the work, and well, she had gotten herself a fabulous reputation at the Louvre after she had spotted a shoplifter on the footage and let them know about it right away. It made her feel like a detective of sorts, discovering things that she wouldn't have otherwise.

And, well, summer was coming. Soon, she could get all caught up, and then Alya was sure that it wouldn't be quite so overwhelming.

  "I figured it out!"

Nino glanced up at Alya as she slid into the empty spot at the table he was sitting at. From the other side of the table, Adrien and Marinette looked over at the reporter as well.

"What did you figure out?" Marinette asked, gaze immediately going to the tablet Alya was holding. She looked interested and inched closer. "Is it something to do with the Ladyblog?"

"It is!" Alya held up her tablet. "So you know how I've been putting together footage of the akuma fights from security cameras?"

Nino nodded. Both Adrien and Marinette looked puzzled. Alya groaned at them.

"Seriously? Have neither of you looked at the Ladyblog in weeks?! It's my big new thing!"

"I've been busy," they both claimed at once, before shooting each other startled looks. Alya narrowed her eyes at them both.

"Too busy to even glance at the Ladyblog once in a while, even now that school is almost out? Really?"

"I've glanced, but not looked into the archives at all," Marinette corrected herself. Then she frowned. "Wait, what do you mean, security camera footage?"

"Huh, I guess I must not have mentioned it to you before, either," Alya said, looking thoughtful. "Hm. Anyway, I've been contacting people at the Louvre and at the Eiffel Tower and Chloe's dad and Sabrina's dad and the principal to ask if I can get the raw security camera footage from the akuma fights that go through there, and they all said yes! So I've been going through that and splicing together stuff from different cameras to try to get as much of the fight covered as possible."

Now Adrien was frowning, too. "Really? They just happen to know which cameras Ladybug and Chat Noir have gone past?"

Now Nino snorted. "Of course not. They just basically give Alya all the footage from the cameras for the duration of the fight and she- well, we, I've been helping- have to go through and find which cameras Ladybug and Chat Noir went past and when."

For some reason, both Adrien and Marinette now looked deeply alarmed.

"Anyway, we've been noticing some weirdness on some of the clips," Alya told them. "It get corrupted for a bit, mostly near the start of the fight before the superheroes show up or after the akuma's been defeated but sometimes in the middle, too. I've been puzzling over it for the longest time, and I think I've finally figured it out!"

"Really?" Nino asked, interested and finally distracted from his strangely pale friends. "How?"

Alya grinned. "It was some comments on the Ladyblog that finally got me to notice the pattern. The corruption is either before Ladybug and Chat Noir show up or right after they vanish- or, in the middle of the fight, if one of them has to go recharge, then it happens then, too."

Nino blinked, then caught on. "So you're saying that somehow their magic is interfering with the cameras and protecting their secret identities?"

Alya pointed at him. "Exactly! I thought when I started all this that I might accidentally catch them transforming or see someone where they weren't meant to be, but their magic just means that they can't be caught on camera. It kind of makes me wonder if they always have that effect on cameras when they aren't transformed, or if it only pops up when they're about to transform or just detransformed."

Nino was so caught up in thinking about it that he completely missed Adrien and Marinette's identical sighs of relief as they both slumped in their seats. "It's gotta be the latter. Otherwise how would you explain people never getting a good picture of you, if it happened all the time?"

"Maybe Juleka is Ladybug, then," Marinette offered, giggling a little. "Remember, she was convinced that she had some sort of photo curse?"

"And now she's figured out how to manipulate the magic so that she can get normal photos again," Alya joked, sounding serious for a moment before she laughed. "Nah, she can't be, she was akumatized and fought Ladybug and Chat Noir. Remember that?"

Nino shuddered. "How could I forget? I was stuck in a skirt and high heels for ages!"

"I rocked the platforms," Adrien bragged. He grinned at Nino's raised eyebrow. "What? Sure, they were hard at first, but with a little practice..."

Nino just shook his head and groaned. "You would, dude. You must have been hidden, though. I couldn't find you after Reflecta left."

"Yeah, the outfit and the makeup would do that, probably," Adrien pointed out with a laugh. "I mostly decided to stay out of the way. And that fight didn't last that long. Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated her within an hour."

"Okay, fair."

"What would you do if you found something that told you who Ladybug or Chat Noir are?" Marinette asked, pulling the conversation back on track. "I mean, you can't see them transforming or detransforming, but if..."

Alya waved a hand. "Oh, I would destroy the footage as fast as possible. Hopefully I wouldn't recognize them-" though she wasn't certain about the probability of that, considering that Nino had been picked as a temporary superhero, too. What were the chances of that happening if Ladybug at least didn't know them to some extent? Unless of course it was a coincidence since she was the well-known Ladyblogger and Nino had already been out in the middle of the fight before Ladybug grabbed him- "and so it wouldn't matter if I saw them for two seconds."

Adrien looked astonished. "Really? I thought that was your dream, to figure out who they are! Not that I don't support the deleting thing," he added quickly. "That's probably safer for them. But what made you decide to change your mind?"

Well, she had become a superhero herself, for one. She had realized that she didn't really want the city to know her identity, because what if the akumas targeted her family and friends? And then Nino was a superhero, too, and what if people knew that and she became a target? She had figured that if she didn't want the city knowing her secret identity, she should probably extend the same courtesy to Ladybug and Chat Noir. And Heroes Day had proved that even superheroes knowing the secret identity of other superheroes wasn't necessarily safe. But instead of saying any of that, Alya just said "Well, I realized that it wouldn't be safe for them. And I figured that we should probably respect our superheroes' wishes since they've done so much for the city."

Adrien grinned. "That's very mature of you, Alya."

Alya just shrugged. Really, there had been so much more to it than she had let on. He was probably giving her too much credit, considering it had taken her being in the superheroes' shoes to realize what she had. "Yeah, well. I'll get a big scoop someday. I just refuse to have it at the superheroes' expense."

  With the start of summer came more free time, and Alya attacked her backlog of footage with gusto. It was slowly shrinking as she and Nino dug into it with occasional help from Adrien or Marinette, deleting the superhero-less footage out and discarding it. It had become a bit of an obsession now that she had plenty of free time, and Alya had finally- finally!- figured out how to have several streams going at once on her screen and how to pause the others and switch to just one when there was footage that she wanted to watch more closely.

It made things go a lot faster, that was for sure. She was getting through a couple akuma attacks per day, and she finally had to start queuing things up so that the Ladyblog wouldn't get overwhelmed. One per day would be good, maybe two if they were short fights. Alya prioritized newer fights, too, knowing that the old ones were interesting but also old news. The newer fights generated more views and more interest, but it wouldn't be long before the next wave of akumas took over public interest.

Still, Alya loved having that old footage. She loved watching Ladybug and Chat Noir facing up against the akuma, and she loved seeing Ladybug's creativity when faced with a strange Lucky Charm. Their teamwork was so strong, and the way that they absorbed the occasional extra teammate and worked in those powers- yeah, it was pretty obvious why they had been chosen to be the city's main superheroes.

She was digging through her folders of akuma fight footage when she spotted a particularly large one. Alya frowned, puzzled- what, had the entire city been involved in the fight?- when she noticed the date. It was from Heroes Day.

"Oh yeah," Alya said eagerly, grinning as she clicked on the folder. This had been one of the battles that she really wanted footage for. All five superheroes at once in the boss battle? Yes please. All of the existing footage of the fight had been filled by possessed people, so it would be great to get literally anything else.

It was going to be difficult to piece together all of the bits of footage that were bound to be all over the city, but hey, it was summer and Alya could probably rope her friends into helping. And hey, if she could get Adrien roped in, he had several computer monitors. He could use all of them at once and have a ridiculous number of feeds going all at once. But Alya was impatient and wanted to get another look at the fight, so she flipped through the camera files until she found a set on the Eiffel Tower. They opened right before a fox-themed supervillain got there- and ugh, Alya immediately found herself annoyed. Another Volpina? Why were there so many people in Paris who seemed to have some sort of design on the Fox Miraculous?

Ugh. She was going to scour the footage to see if she could get a glance at this new Volpina's unakumatized identity. One Fox villain before Rena Rouge had showed up was one thing, but again? Nuh-uh.

Alya watched as once again, chaos descended on Paris. Volpina detransformed- uh, could Hawkmoth recall akumas? Then why had the baby akuma actually happened at all?- and revealed- uh, was that Lila? What was Lila doing in Paris? She had told the class that she was out of the country and wasn't going to be returning yet!

Okay, something was definitely up there. Maybe Marinette was on to something when she said that she didn't trust Lila. Especially when- they had talked to Lila on Heroes' Day, hadn't they? They had video chatted with her as a class. She had said that she was abroad, and it had looked like she was, too.

Strange. Alya was going to have to do some digging there for sure.

On-screen, the red butterflies descended on Paris. Alya winced as she remembered the terror that had reigned. They had been tricked by Volpina's illusions- and wait wait wait. Alya rewound the footage to when Lila detransformed and- oh, she looked disappointed when she was detransformed, as though she knew what she had been doing and had wanted to continue.

Even stranger. Also really, really concerning. Alya was going to put a hold on making any plans with Lila until she figured out what was going on there.

Alya continued watching. Red akumas found their mark, and Hawkmoth emerged, watching over the panic. Red bubbles bloomed into oversized akumas, and then... well, more chaos. There was screaming in the streets as people were turned into akumas and everyone else fled- well, there looked like there was screaming in the streets, at least. The cameras didn't pick up sound, which did take away from the experience, just a bit, but she could imagine what it would have sounded like.

The sheer amount of footage that Alya was getting from just the Eiffel Tower was astounding. She could only imagine how much she was going to get across the city, though the ice appearing now from the re-akumatized Frozer probably took at least a few of the feeds out. If she just played it all one camera at a time, it would be an insanely long video.

She might have to learn how to play several streams at once in a split screen. Hawkmoth would have to be shown at all times, Alya thought, and then she could do flashes of different akumas and also show the superheroes. They would fill the screen when they were doing an intense fight, maybe and-

Oh, Alya had so many ideas for the video already and she had only watched part of four streams so far. The number of akumas and the civilian resistance- which, by the way, amazing- meant that she could really play with angles and video cuts and oh, it was gonna be great.

It was also going to be a whole lot of work. Alya was probably going to spend the entire week picking out clips and then deciding which ones she wanted to use, and then it was going to be another few days of editing.

Hopefully her friends would be willing to help her out. They could blast through mostly-boring feeds in no time and get stuff trimmed down for her to review. Maybe she could even get Max to help her with the split-screen editing stuff, since he understood all of that technical talk.

Smiling widely, Alya turned back to her computer. Most of the footage at the moment was just Hawkmoth standing up on the Eiffel Tower with his two singers- and boy was Alya going to rake him over the coals for that, it was ridiculous- and so she had to wait for Ladybug and Chat Noir to head up like she knew they had. Thankfully the camera on that level wasn't iced over at all, like the ones on the lower levels were. This time, she had a front-row seat (abet at a bad angle) as she saw Lila get akumatized again (and boy was it interesting that Lila didn't look at all alarmed about the butterfly approaching her- she looked eager) and Volpina conjured up a second Hawkmoth while the real one hid.

And boy, was that ever an anxiety-inducing experience, watching Ladybug and Chat Noir approach the decoy while the real Hawkmoth hid down below, ready to surprise them from behind. Somehow Ladybug noticed him creeping up on them- and how, Alya had no idea how, she and Chat Noir seemed a bit distracted by trying to get Hawkmoth to do the right thing by turning over his Miraculous- and then they were fighting. Hawkmoth's cane-sword went down, but he didn't go down with it.

Alya sat up and watched as the three secondary users re-joined the fight just in time. She wondered where they had gone wrong, where they might have messed up and could have done better. The next bit was also the only example they had so far of the mysterious Peacock user's powers, and they needed to know what to expect in case they came into play again.

It wasn't that the Peacock's powers seemed that dangerous, at least not from what they had seen so far. Their team had just been taken off guard, and that gave Hawkmoth enough of a distraction to run off like the coward he was. Alya watched the giant moth vanish after Ladybug hit it, and she wondered if it would have vanished so easily if Ladybug had hit it when Hawkmoth was still there. Had the Peacock backed off as soon as Hawkmoth had retreated?

On one of the streams, the superheroes glanced around, trying to figure out where Hawkmoth had gone. Meanwhile, a Hawkmoth-shaped blob limped- had he been injured? They should have looked for him!- past one of the iced-over cameras, and then slumped down against a wall. Alya leaned forward, eager, as Hawkmoth sat there for a few seconds, likely shaken by the whole run-in.

Was he going to detransform? Had they really caught Hawkmoth on camera, after nearly a year of attacks? The ice on the camera would make it hard to see exactly who it was, but Ladybug's Miraculous Cure was bound to come zipping past any moment now. Was this her big scoop-?

"Ugh, and there's that distortion," Alya complained, flopping back in her chair as the already-fuzzy footage got even worse as a burst of purple lit up the screen. "C'mon, really? Can't his kwami not provide magical protection for him? The dude doesn't deserve it."

Alya sulked at the screen as a rush of red went by, clearing off the ice but doing nothing for the magical distortion. She could make out a bit of a shape on the screen, and colors- red and white- but no details, and static regularly cut across the already blurry picture. The static stayed there for longer than normal, and then the blurry, pixilated shape of civilian Hawkmoth finally got up, heading for the stairs. It was only once he had fully exited the frame that the picture finally snapped back into focus, one last bit of static cutting across the screen before the picture stabilized for good.

"Oh, come on," Alya groaned, flopping back on her bed. "That's so unfair that we were so close, and this freaking arse just- just waltzes out of there? Just walks away down the stairs and off of the tower and- and- ugh!" She slapped her fist down on the bed next to her- and then she froze. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait. He walked off of the Eiffel Tower. There have to be more cameras on the staircase and at the bottom. If he didn't detransform in front of those, would they have gone out, too?"

She didn't know. She had never really tracked other cameras from the area after the fights ended, so she didn't know if they had caught the civilian Ladybug and Chat Noir or not and she wasn't going to go back and look, not now that she knew now how dangerous it could be to have other people knowing a superhero's secret identity.

But now? There was absolutely no downside to finding out Hawkmoth's secret identity. It would be the biggest break of Alya's journalistic career.

Re-energized and laser-focused, Alya clicked back to her files, looking for the other cameras. It took a few tries for her to find the footage from the stair cameras and then she fast-forwarded to close to the end. There was a minute of anxious waiting, where Alya scanned the entire screen in case Hawkmoth had tried climbing down the side of the stairs or something ridiculous like that, and then a pair of feet appeared, headed slowly and almost unsteadily down the stairs. Before the feet could go down any further, though, the footage came to an end.

Alya let out a frustrated snarl and rewound the video a few seconds, pausing it right before it came to an end. Only a pair of perfectly white shoes and the hem of bright red pants came into view.

Those... those pants looked really familiar. Alya frowned as she stared at them. She couldn't quite place them, but maybe Marinette could, if Alya brought the footage over the next time that she went to Marinette's house. But that was stupid, Alya decided after a moment of mulling it over. Maybe they knew someone with pants like that, but there were several million people living in Paris. There was no guarantee that there weren't other people making the same (awful) fashion choices.

"So close," Alya complained aloud, glaring at her screen. If only Mr. Raincomprix had sent footage that was a few seconds longer! Except- oh, that was it! All she had to do was email him and ask for the footage from the lower-level cameras running from maybe a minute before the end of the fight to several minutes after the current end time. That would be sure to get her lots of footage of Hawkmoth, and surely he would be recognizable in some of it.

She had to hope that the footage still existed and it hadn't been written over at all. It would be close- it had been over two months since that battle- but Alya knew that she had gotten older footage from the Eiffel Tower before.

Hopefully that stuff hadn't just been saved for longer because of the akuma attack.

Excited, Alya turned back to her computer. If she was going to file a request for more footage and hoped to get it in a reasonable amount of time, she needed to have all of the information possible- what the camera IDS were, the exact date and times that she wanted were, everything. Just to be sure, Alya checked her other files to see which cameras would be focused on either the place where Hawkmoth detransformed or the stairs that he had gone down, writing the code for every last one down. Once she had that, she folded up the list and stuffed it in her pocket as she raced for the door.

"Alya, remember that you're going to be babysitting the twins in two hours," he mom called out as Alya raced past. "You'll be back by then, right?"

Alya had to bite down the frustrated noise that nearly escaped because even though this was critical, this was huge, it wasn't as though she couldn't wait a little longer to review the footage. And she could review the footage while sitting out at the kitchen counter with her sisters watching a movie in the living room, it would just be harder. "Yeah, I'll be back!"

And hopefully, she would come back with the footage that would change everything.

  Officer Raincomprix was all too willing to bring Alya over to the Eiffel Tower to get more of the footage, all without her having to explain anything. He showed her to the people she needed to talk to and then trotted off to deal with a littering teenager while Alya was ushered inside of the office. The staff were all helpful, and soon Alya was leaving with everything she needed, with no questions asked.

She supposed that it was good that all of the adults were so busy, because she didn't exactly want to explain. Really, Ladybug and Chat Noir should be the first ones to know about Hawkmoth's identity.

Alya jogged back towards her family's apartment, memory stick clutched tightly in her hand. On it, she hoped, would be evidence that would show her Hawkmoth's identity. She was nearly back to her building when she ran smack-dab into a very familiar figure.

"Yo, I was just looking for you!" Nino exclaimed, pulling Alya up. He bent back over to grab the memory stick that she had dropped before the passing pedestrians could kick it away and handed it back to her. "I was trying to text you earlier, but I didn't get any response."

Alya winced. "I'm so sorry! I just got really distracted by my video editing. I opened up the folder for Heroes' Day and I got really distracted."

"Oh, that was a crazy fight. I bet there was a ton of footage. Well, until everything got all icy, at least." Nino glanced down at her as they continued down the sidewalk. "So can I ask why you were out? You look out of breath."

"Not out here," Alya warned immediately. She didn't want a passerby overhearing and trying to grab the memory stick to grab the discovery for themselves. "Come inside with me. I can tell you there, and at any rate I have to be back in-" she checked her phone- "fifteen minutes anyway to babysit my sisters."

Nino followed without question, looking interested.

"So did you find something interesting in the footage?" Nino asked curiously. "You must have. Or was there footage missing, was that why you were out?"

"Not quite," Alya told him, grinning. "I needed more footage, yeah, but it wasn't during the middle of the fight. It was at the end, because I almost had Hawkmoth's civilian self on tape."

"You- what?" Nino asked, freezing for a few seconds before jogging up the stairs alongside her again. "You think you have Hawkmoth on tape? I thought that the magic messed with the cameras!"

Alya grinned. "It does. But where he detransformed- he had to go down the stairs, and there's another camera there. Before, I could see his shoes and the hems of his pants, but now I have an extended clip of the video! It should show him coming down the stairs into sight."

Nino looked impressed. "Oh, that is amazing. But what if it's not someone you know? I mean, there's a lot of people in Paris."

"Well, I'll turn the video over to Ladybug and Chat Noir. They can decide if they want to get the police involved. They might recognize the guy, too." Alya was assuming that she wouldn't recognize Hawkmoth, but she supposed that it was a possibility. "Or we could help by asking Max if he can run some sort of face recognition thing, so that they don't have to go to the police. I'm worried that the police might try to take over themselves and end up getting really hurt by underestimating him."

"Yeah, they might try to do that. Freaking adults, thinking that they know better than the actual experts." Nino shook his head, disgusted. "But do you think Max can do that? I mean, I know he's good at computers, but face recognition- that sounds like he would have to tap into files from, like, ID cards or something."

Alya shrugged. She supposed that was true, but Max was crazy smart and also had Markov. She was sure that if she asked, he would try to see what he could do for her.

"So are you gonna look at the footage now?" Nino asked as they reached her floor. "I thought you said that you have babysitting to do."

"I do, but I wanna at least look at the footage first, if I can." Alya pulled out her keys to open the apartment door. "And I was planning on just putting on a movie and some snacks for my sisters so that they stay out of trouble while I work. They should stay out of trouble that way."

Nino gave her a supremely dubious look. "Your sisters, staying out of trouble?"

"I'd still be in the room! And it's not like I would have headphones in or anything."

"...would you like me to stay there while you do your video stuff?"

"That would be amazing," Alya told Nino, leading him into the apartment. She waved to her mom as they headed down the hallway. "But I still have time to get this done before my mom has to leave!"

Nino glanced at the clock on the wall. "Uh, babe, you only have ten minutes."

"Do you really think I can't get this done in ten minutes?" Alya led the way into her room and wriggled her mouse, waking her laptop up. "You know me better than that. I know exactly where to look in the footage."

"And you really think you'll be able to focus on looking after kids once you've seen Hawkmoth's face?"

...Alya had to admit that that was a very good point.

"I can show you the footage leading up to the end while the computer recognizes my memory stick," Alya told Nino as she plugged the new flash drive in. She rewound the footage. "See, here's Hawkmoth escaping- but he didn't go far!"

"That ice on the cameras is annoying," Nino commented as the footage played. "Is all of it like that?"

"A few cameras were spared, I think," Alya told him. "Including the one on the main level, thank goodness. I mean, there's a few blurry spots from where the ice extended onto the lens a little bit, but it's mostly clear."

"Oh, and now it's worse," Nino added. "He detransformed right in front of the camera, holy cow."

"Yeah, I was really hoping that the distortion would go away since he seemed to be hanging around, but no such luck." Alya watched as on-screen, the ice cleared away and Hawkmoth finally got up, heading for the stairs. "So watch here- there's no one besides him and the superheroes on the Tower, right? Well, them and Lila, but that's beside the point. It got evacuated pretty fast, and anyone who didn't get off got akumatized or hit by Dark Cupid. So he's headed for those stairs."

"So whoever comes down is Hawkmoth, right," Nino agreed. Then he paused. "Wait, you said Lila? But she was abroad!"

"Apparently she lied." Alya stopped the tapes right where Hawkmoth's feet appeared on the stairs. "Okay, so the stuff that I got should start about thirty seconds before the end of these, so there's some overlap."

A tension rose in the room as Alya got the new files set up to play. She kept glancing at the clock while things loaded, watching as the time for her to move into the living room ticked closer and closer.

She wouldn't be able to stand it if she had to stop at this point. Even if it was only for a short break while she said good-bye to her mom and got the twins set up with their movie and their snacks, she couldn't. She was so, so close.

This had to work.

"Loaded," Alya announced as soon as the program was ready. "And here we go!"

She and Nino leaned forward as they watched the feed from the stairs on the screen. There were thirty seconds of anxious waiting, and then Hawkmoth's shoes appeared on the stairs. They headed down unevenly, revealing the red pants cuffs once again.

"Oh, he's shaken," Nino murmured, a grin evident in his voice. "Super shaken. Serves the asshole right."

Another step, more of the pants were revealed. They watched in anxious silence as the red pants gave way to a very familiar ivory jacket, then a striped necktie, and then Hawkmoth took one more step down the stairs, head hanging down as he made his way down the Eiffel Tower.

And much to Alya's surprise, she recognized the face that went with those atrocious fashion choices, even at this angle. And from Nino's sharp inhale, she knew that he had, too.

"Well," Nino managed after a minute of trying to find his words. "This is bad."

And with that, Alya could only agree.

[hysterianimalia]

Do you have any art tips? Your art is amazing and gorgeous btw, but uhh i need some help lol

ya i do 

i know people’s first advice is always use references and that’s my advice too, but i’m going to go further: use reference photos only. don’t reference other people’s art because you could be unintentionally duplicating their mistakes, or their personal style, and that can get messy. a good place to find animal photos to reference is arkive.org, especially if the animal is kind of obscure & it shows you related species that might look similar enough to also use as a reference. 

once u can draw an animal/human/object good after referencing photos, throw the reference away and just do whatever. u now know the basics and the rules of constructing your Subject, so you can bend the rules and break them while maintaining the basic ability to keep your subject recognisable. this is how you ‘develop a style’ as the kids say. but a lot of people focus unnecessarily on STYLE and worry incessantly about being Recognisable and honestly chill, it’s fine. i recognise the style of every artist i follow even if that person bemoans not having one. and if you don’t have a set style, that’s cool too - it just means you’re versatile and commissioners like that. just draw what looks aesthetically pleasing to you, incorporate small inspirations from media you enjoy, etc (i would advise against copying someone wholesale. but if you like how they draw, for example, ears, then there’s nothing stopping you from drawing ears similarly and adding your own twist)

ok so those are the big two but i have some extra tips too 

1. tangents. recognise what a tangent is and always avoid them in your linework. generally i don’t like hard rules but a tangent confuses your subject and reduces readability of an image. sometimes i have to move things around completely or change a pose just to avoid a tangent 

2. expression. keep the expression of the character consistent throughout their whole body, not just their face. u can use the hands, fur, posture, etc. to help this. having a vibrant pose makes the art more interesting to look at. conversely, having a character standing around looking like a dead fish can help portray a strong Mood too 

3. backgrounds  i’m a hypocrite i’m not even going to go here but yeah try some out. who knows 

4. lines & silhouette. ok here’s my big tip for lineart and sketching: don’t use multiple short thin lines when one big strong one will do.. especially if you’re describing the shape of a dynamic pose. when you use lots of little lines, you lose the energy of the form. 

another BIG tip is don’t be afraid of straight lines. yes they do appear in nature and yes there are straight lines in the body. but more than that, they can be used to trick your eyes into following your image in a certain direction

look at this picture. where does your gaze relax and where does it go super fast?? the straight lines draw your gaze from the face, along the neck and back of the subject, then finally around in a spiral to the legs & face again, where it rests. if i had broken up the lines of the neck and back with tufts of fur, your gaze would get trapped briefly in the detail there and the whole image would be less ‘satisfying’. when i drew this picture i was not thinking ANY of that bullshit, i just knew instinctively that the nice simple straight lines looked nice. SO if you think you’ve drawn something that’s unusually nice to look at, consider ‘studying’ the image to see what made it successful like i did just there, then applying what you learned in future pieces

5. colours. literally my tip is to just do what looks nice. i don’t have a lot of Knowledge here lmao. but here’s a Big one for painting, which i don’t do much of for this blog big w/e - avoid white backgrounds when painting. you can have a white bg later, but while you paint and shade and add light sources and w/e your background should ideally be a light grey. not only is it easier on the eyes, but you won’t feel the need to ‘compete’ against the white for being brighter and higher contrast. i use light grey for all my bgs until the end stages where i just pick a bright colour that looks good and fill in the bg. you could even put a white bg in there at the end when you’re done painting

uhhh if you have any more specific questions lmk. or if you want me to draw a ??tutorial?? then we’ll see.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, KYLIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of NICK BOTTOM. Admin Julie: I was impressed with your app from the first word. Your voice for Nikolai is impeccable and incredibly succinct, as if I myself could hear him talking. Nik’s a tough one to pin down, given his lackadaisical view of the world and the war between the Montagues and Capulets, but you didn’t just pin him. You hit the nail on the head. I’m overjoyed and ecstatic, and simply cannot wait to see your Nikolai grace our dashboards!  Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Kylie

Age | 25

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

Activity Level | on a scale of 1-10 i would say i’m about a 6 or a 7!

Timezone | mst

IN CHARACTER

Character | Nick Bottom / Nikolai Borisov

What drew you to this character? |

What drew me to Nikolai initially was the sense of humor that I felt permeated his biography–I especially loved the line “Nikolai Borisov fell in with the wrong crowd with eyes wide open—waltzed right into hell and had the gall to call it toasty.” It told me that Nikolai posessed the ability to see the absurdity in the mob life–of pledging your life to a person who could give a damn wether you live or die, of taking yourself seriously enough to think that putting the lives of everyone in a city on the line for your own singular ambition is somehow in their best interests. I think humor is a large part of his character, but the longer I spent with him, trying to find his voice and being inside of his head, I came to realize that there was a dissonance between how he uses humor outwardly, and who he is internally. I think that the line that really sums it up for me is actually–”He is Frankenstein: a little mad, a little lonely, a man who dared to dream bigger than anyone else.” He wants to be around people, and he uses his humor to try and get people to like him, to decide that they want to be around him, but they have also never really understood him. I think he’s a lot like the fire he loves so much–a light in a city that thrives on darkness. But don’t be fooled, the light that he casts off is not divine in any sense of the world, its just as destructive as any good burn.

I also enjoyed the ways in which his particular form of intelligence set him apart from the others involved with the mobs—it takes real skill to be able to wire a bomb and place it in a location where it can do maximum damage, to be able to burn a building down to its foundations and avoid being caught, and Nikolai is good enough at what he does to be paid to do it by the most dangerous and important people in Verona. I was very interested in the ways that the chaos of his personality, of his habits, interact with his intelligence. It would be easy to underestimate him, to write him off as a little bit mad–but that would be a mistake, because there is always a method to his madness.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

LOOK WHO’S DIGGING THEIR OWN GRAVE

Nikolai doesn’t burn things out of anger—he does it because it brings him comfort, because in the cold where he was born you have to take warmth where you can get it, because fire is all he’s had throughout his entire life. I’d like to see him pushed, to see what exactly would cause him to think about why he does what he does—what would make him well and truly angry? Would that anger be enough to make him think twice about why he’s burning things? I’d like to see who or what he would allow to get that deep underneath his skin—would it be one of the Mobs? Would it be Pavel and his careless disregard for Nikolai’s hard work? Would it be damage to his reputation as a fireman?

ACTING OUT ALL THEIR FEARS

I’d love to dig more into Nikolai’s work with the mobs—what exactly are his parameters, what is he willing to do or not do? He’s chaotic and a little bit mad, but he’s not without pride—he thinks he’s the best fireman in the business and his work speaks to that. If he were given an opportunity to tie his allegiances to one side, would he take it? He values his independence and his ability to move around whenever he wants to highly, so whoever tried to buy his work on a more permanent basis would have to appeal to his vanity where his work is concerned. I’d also love to explore what exactly has kept him in Verona this long, when he would have normally probably moved on to a new place with new clientele.

THIS IS HOW IT FEELS TO TAKE A FALL

Nikolai has spent his entire life in motion, running from his work before he can be caught. It’s a dangerous game of inches and seconds and I’d love to play more with that—how long will it be before he spends too long admiring his work? I’d love to see how he would react if he couldn’t run fast enough, or if the person chasing him was as familiar with the back alleys of Verona as he is. What lengths would he go to to save his own skin, or would he simply bow out, knowing that every good show has to come to an end at one point or another? After all, if old Billy Shakes had kept writing after his number had been called, who’s to say that the stuff he wrote would have still been decent?  

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | of course!

IN DEPTH

What is your favorite place in Verona?

“Everyone in this town is so concerned with history.” Nikolai rolls his eyes, which are currently focused on a brown paper bag, nearly transparent with grease stains. He comes up with a fry which he unceremoniously shoves into his mouth, using his free hand to gesture wildly, with no real concern with what exactly he’s pointing at. “Over there is the bridge that His Holiness Pope Who Cares commissioned in 1189 B.C.E, in that museum you can see the dick picks that Leonardo Da Vinci painted and sent to Michelangelo’s house at three in the morning with a note asking if he was still up, and over there is the cathedral where Mario and Luigi pretended to care about religion, so that their dad wouldn’t get mad at them later.”

He pops another fry into his mouth and shrugs his shoulders as he brushes the salt off onto his jeans–denim with grease stains that could probably match the ones on the paper bag. “Where I’m from, in Russia, is the furthest North you can be without hitting the Arctic. There is no history there–the snow and ice get everything before it has a chance to acquire any kind of meaning. A building is just a building–none of it matters because you’re so concerned with surviving.” He shakes his head, and if anyone had been looking for it they would have seen his expression falter–the kind of melancholy that gets tinged with nostalgia and harder to explain the further you move away from it, the more you transform from the person in the memory. He’s quick to grin again, a little too sharp around the edges–a little too hungry, his father had once called it, after Nikolai had laughed at him when he’d asked about the black marks on his son’s hands. Wolfish.

“Anyway, that’s not what you asked, is it? My favorite places in Verona are the ones that don’t really fit–the abandoned warehouse next to the ornate cathedral. The street art on the side of a museum full of treasures. The shitty looking diner run by someone’s grandmother next to the Michelin star restaurant. The places that are never gonna end up in someone’s history book.”

What does your typical day look like?

Nikolai scoffs before he starts to cackle, a loud sound that draws the attention of people passing by—but come on, what a stupid question. Does he really look like the kind of guy who has days that are typical? He’s eating fast food on a park bench during the hours when other people are hard at work, his legs folded up underneath him. “Anyone who does enough of the same shit to have their days be considered typical is sad.”

He shrugs his shoulders, drapes an arm over the back of the bench. “I’m not going to daily yoga classes or brunch if that’s what you’re after. I go wherever the spirit moves me, whenever it moves me, and I’m rarely ever bored. Unless I’m on a job–” His grin turns into a kind of smirk, and he chuckles. “Then I have a routine. But those specifics are only obtainable by cash–and unless you’re hiding a hell of a lot in places that are hard to see? You’re not gonna get them.”

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

He can remember every detail of that day with photographic clarity–the outfits of the people that had walked by on the street, the look on that smug bastard’s face and the shrieking of his laughter as he had hauled ass in the opposite direction, the way the ash had practically glittered in the sunlight. It would have been beautiful, had it not been three hours too early, had it not been everything he had built for himself that had gone up in gorgeous plumes of smoke and red-orange flames. It had been the first time he’d looked at a fire and felt something other than overwhelming sense of comfort, a sense of belonging in the world that could only come with leaving an irrevocable mark on the landscape. Instead he had looked at the smoldering remains of that particular building and felt fear–the fear that he would well and truly be on his own this time. That he would never feel warm again.

He blinks and tries to school his face into something unaffected, but he’s certain that he misses the mark–he’s never been good at judging where normal should be. “When you do what I do, you can’t really afford to make mistakes. One mistake and you’re a heap of ashes where a person used to be standing, y’know? But when I was starting out I made a lot of the typical rookie mistakes–I’d be surprised if I still had fingerprints.” He laughs again, and this time he feels it reach to the corners of his mouth.

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

Nikolai shakes his head and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his left hand immediately finding the lighter that’s nestled securely in the fabric. His fingers move over the familiar outlines, the places where the finish is worn off from repeated handling–difficult begins and ends with this familiar weight in the palm of his hand. Difficult rarely ever stands up to the all consuming power of a good burn. “The job isn’t difficult–not when you’re good at it. The hardest part has been staying in one place for so long–normally I’d have left this place for somewhere new a hell of a long time ago.” He exhales, and tilts his face up towards the sky so that he can feel the warmth of the sun. It’s the boredom that worries him most of all, that makes him wonder when it will be time to leave Verona and her criminal underworld behind for good–it might be better for him to get gone before the place can drain the creativity from him permanently.

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

“It pays the bills.” He shrugs and grins–a slow reveal of teeth, too many teeth to be considered friendly or casual. “What do I care if they tear each other apart in the same of some bullshit history between them? The minute it dries up I’m out of here and onto the next batch of maniacs just like them.”

EXTRAS

pinterest board x

[askvenomandthekids]

Prompt: Reader/OC has been seeing Martin a while but maybe he gets really upset over something and has an outburst of energy. He thinks he kills reader/oc but they’re okay.

tagged for: @grease-queen @mintballoons @peggle2 @halfwayto-batman @cr00ked0wl @omega39-blog @plexusfiend

Martin Li was the most enigmatic man you’ve ever dated.

In fact, describing your relationship as ‘dating’ was a bit of a stretch. He’s not a huge fan of PDA - the only thing he’s comfortable doing in public with you is hand holding. In public, he doesn’t like flaunting your relationship - not that Martin was ashamed of you, but that he was simply a private person.

When he’s alone with you, it’s a different story. 

His soft smiles and polite laughter would disappear into an unmistakable melancholy. When he gets into those moods, he would gather you into his arms and hold you close to his chest for hours. 

Alone with you, Martin felt no need to speak about trivial subjects. He was the sort of man who spoke when he thinks its worthwhile. 

“Being with you is enough,” He told you once. “Forgive me if I’m not the best man for conversation.”

You didn’t mind doing all the talking in this relationship. With Martin, you could tell him anything. He always looked at you with such intense care and adoration, you felt he would never judge you. 

However, it did strike you one day that as much as Martin knew you, you hardly knew him. He talked little about his family and past. Perhaps, he wanted to keep it that way. You can respect that. 

It’s not like you expected the man to get on one knee and tell you his deepest darkest secrets. But, you can’t help but feel he’s hiding something from you. Despite how much he cared, you can sense the wall he put in between you and him.

You didn’t think this wall would’ve ever come down - until the accident.

It was supposed to be a simple date. 

You wanted to take Martin out for a break from work - a trip to a nearby art musuem followed by a lunch date can never go wrong. 

And everything was wonderful - until the rally. The crowd was so large, it easily blocked a street. And of course, you couldn’t miss Norman Osborn’s giant face plastered and printed on every perimeter imaginable. 

You rolled your eyes. Politics. Never much cared for it, and you won’t start now. You drew closer to Martin, and tugged at his arm. 

“Hey, we can go somewhere else.” You suggested. 

There was no reply. You looked at Martin, and saw that his expression was…dark. Something animalistic possessed his features, and they were twisted in such a way that struck a chord in you. In all the time you’ve known Martin, you never saw him look so - inhuman. 

Unsettled, you decided it was time to head back home. Maybe he was having a panic attack.

“C’mon love, let’s go.” You repeated, and tugged a little harder this time. 

Martin is snapped out of his intense daze. When his eyes fell on you, they immediately softened. That familiar and caring expression returned to his face. Relief deflated your heart. There was your Martin Li. He squeezed your hand. 

“…Yes. We should go.” He agreed. There was an anxiety in his gaze. You smiled at him, as reassurance, and gave him a soft kiss on his lips for good measure.

Hand in hand, you two fought your way against the crowd. You managed to worm your way through people - however, not without being bombarded by dozens of political campaign volunteers. 

“Hi! Would you like to take a political survey? Remember, Osborn cares what you think!”

“No thanks. Can you move.”

“Hello! Can I have a moment of your time to sign this petition? If you are a staunch supporter for Osborn, this is the best way to -”

“Don’t have a pen, move it.”

“Vote for Osborn! Vote for Osborn! Wear this pin to join the pledge!”

“Shove the pin down his butt for all I care.” 

You grew increasingly frustrated with the constant stream of people that got in your way. Each minute that passed, Martin’s grip on your hand became tighter. You ignored how numb your fingers felt - you two should get out as fast as possible. 

Just when the end was in sight, a black van blocked your path. You glared at the car, ready to punch it if you had to. What now?

The door opened, to reveal Osborn’s wrinkled and amicable face. The crowd behind you erupted into cheers. Osborn laughed merrily, and held up peace signs in response. Policemen appeared out of nowhere to push you and Martin away from his path. You kept your hand tight around Martin’s, and worriedly looked at him. You gasped at what you saw.

Martin’s pupils burned an electrifying white and his sclera were pitch black. A terrible snarl is curled on his lips - and the way he glared at Osborn, so full of toxic hatred, shook you to your very core. That glare meant to kill. 

He began to move for Osborn, and fast. You knew if you didn’t do anything, Martin was going to do something truly horrible.

You seized Martin from behind, and wrapped him into a desperate hug. 

“Please, don’t.” You begged. 

Martin looked at you with those hateful eyes. His face hardened.

“Let go.” He warned. God, his voice sounded so deep and demonic, what in the world was he? Dozens of questions ran through your mind, but you gripped onto Martin like vice. Then, one of the police came up to Martin. 

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stand back.”

A growl crawled up Martin���s throat. He raised his hand - a ball of pure black and white energy crackled in his palm. You screamed his name. You can’t let him do this. You can’t let him. So, stupidity or courage took hold of you. You grabbed Martin’s hand, and shoved him to the ground.

Something loud exploded, in a brilliant flash of white.

Then, everything went black.

author’s note: no worries i’ll write a part 2! i love me some JUICY angst!! >:D

[randomscenariosandwritings]

The Moon and the Sun She Could Never Reach

~The Sun and the Moon He Loved~ NCT!Soulmate Au Part 1.5

Parts--> Part 1//Part 1.5 (You are here now)//Thanksgiving Special//Part 2// Part 2.5// Part 3

A/N Hey everyone! So this is not a part 2 sorry, not quite done with that yet but I wanted to give you something to hold you over until then so I wrote this up. Basically, it’s more of his side of the story, what he was doing the actual context behind everything he did. I hope you enjoy it! It might also be helpful in trying to determine who her soulmate is ;) so there’s that! Remember to feel free to comment I love hearing what you have to say and love hearing your guesses for who her soulmate is, feel free to continue to guess and guess at other characters as well (I really like keeping secrets from you guys sorry not sorry, but I promise you’ll get real names in part 2 maybe not everyone’s name but you’ll get names). Forewarning I suck at and hate editing my work because I am lazy af so it is entirely likely that this sucks and is super crappy I really hope it isn’t but there is always a chance so keep that in mind! Try to enjoy it though! Thanks so much for liking the original!! <3 

Description: He was the sun and she was the moon and they were soulmates. Which was both a blessing and a curse. She needed his light and warmth and he needed her to reflect it back to him, but they were ever so distant, both unable to truly reach each other. He reached out for her every way he could, but only in his darkest moments could she ever be found.

Genre: same as last time angst and fluff

Warnings: same as last time: alcohol and death, mentions of abuse, mentions of tattoos, also swearing forgot that one on the last one but it’s here now (Please let me know if there are any warnings you would like on this list or any future lists, I want to make sure my blog and posts are safe for everyone and won’t cause any harm in any way, but I can’t do that if you don’t inform me of these kinds of things)

Word count: 4271 words

(Not my gif, credit goes to the original owner, I can’t make gifs so they will never be mine just saying also here’s a quick hint ;) her soulmate is in this gif)

It was his grandpa who shaped how he felt about soulmates, more specifically his own soulmate. It was not his mother who spent her days buried in work and her nights drowning in alcohol to try to wash away, forget, and distract herself from the memories of her own soulmate, his father, who she'd lost too early. It was not her, who tried desperately to blind herself to his last words permanently written around her wrist in a font too pretty for the pain they carried. Nor did he learn it from his lifelong neighbor who was a mixture of hope and utter disdain for his soulmate, both because of the very words on his wrist and the possibility that they might be the last words his soulmate would ever say to him, which if true would mean a very short and tragic story for the pair of them. It was instead his Grandpa who saw a world in black and white and gray once again after only a few short years of seeing in color. It was his grandpa who had loved his soulmate dearly even after she left him for another man and even after she died in a fiery plane crash somewhere over the US. His grandpa had told him since the day he was born that love was worth the pain, that seeing in color for even just a few years was worth it. to have beauty and wonder and magic for even just a short while was worth all the pain that came during and after. It was his grandfather that taught him that yes, love is poison, but it's the best way to die. He was taught that even if life hurts it can still be beautiful and the beauty is worth all the pain, that's why some of the best artists were some of the most troubled people.

So, he did everything he could to remind himself that there was beauty tied to all the pain that would inevitably come his way. He wrote poems and drew pictures on his arm and made his skin beautiful to make himself remember to love her because she was beautiful and love is and was beautiful no matter how much it hurts. He must love his soulmate, the one he was given because no matter what happened the time they would have together would be beautiful and wonderful and magical. Even if it only leads to pain and trauma. So, he drew on his arm and wrote to his soulmate and talked to her and wished for her because everyone dies one day and everyone would leave one day, everyone would be gone eventually and he wanted to go out on his own terms. He wanted to go out knowing he'd truly lived and had seen beauty had really beheld it. He wanted to die knowing he had lived and loved and seen beauty in a dark world made of pain, he found a light. He wanted to die having lived and known a beautiful life.

He was well aware that the very reasons he drew on his arms were the very reasons his mother hated that he did it. She didn't care one bit for the potential of ink poisoning, not when she was giving herself alcohol poisoning. She only cared because it was him celebrating everything she was running from, celebrating everything she was trying to drown out. She saw it as a lie he was telling himself because she'd lived the loss of a soulmate and losing him wasn't beautiful, losing him wasn't easy. Remembering the good times didn't make losing him in a car crash any easier. She had lost her own soulmate young and here he was celebrating the possibility. It was like a slap to her face and he loved his mother. So, he hid his musings, his gentle ramblings, and carefully drawn art underneath long sleeves and careful actions to protect his mother from the pain his hope would cause her and to protect himself and his soulmate because he understood well what happened when pain and alcohol mixed and found a target.  

His mother being drunk was hardly a rare occurrence but her being awake while he made dinner was. So he was shocked when his mother came stumbling around the corner a bottle in hand and alcohol on her breath and his hands weren't fast enough to roll his sleeves back down to cover the images on his arm before she saw them. Her eyes darkened as they landed on his colorful arms and it was only then that he thought the panicked words "Shit, mom's drunk again," entirely unaware that his soulmate had just heard him and nearly fallen out of bed, instead just focused on trying to control his mother's pain and rage and failing miserably.

He went to bed in pain and woke up sore and was eternally grateful that his soulmate wouldn't feel the full effects of these bruises, they were only skin deep for her, only minor wounds that would hurt when pressed upon but were otherwise insubstantial. He went to school that day and was careful to avoid using pens so as to avoid the itch to decorate his skin. It wasn't safe or smart to draw all over his arm right after being caught.

The next day he locked his pens up in his desk drawer and hid the key in his bookshelf and for the next couple of days, all was well until one night while working on math homework.

There on his skin in black ink, dark and obvious against his skin, bold and unapologetic something was written. He didn't even read it at first as he panicked at his failure for a brief second before remembering the lock on the drawer and the key in the bookshelf and the pencil bag filled with only pencils and erasers. So after calming, he stared at the words and found unfamiliar handwriting and the carefully written "Are you Ok?" his thoughts raced immediately at the sudden realization that for the first time in his life his soulmate had actually written to him.

"She’s real! Oh my goodness! She’s real! She exists! What do I do?" He thought rapidly his thoughts firing at a mile a minute all because suddenly she wasn't just a phantom in his mind, she was real and she had handwriting and he was freaking out. He started grinning and couldn't stop and his arms flailed as he squealed quietly to himself, because oh my goodness I'm actually not alone and all of this hasn't been for nothing and she's worried about me because I haven't been drawing on my arm!!! He was ecstatic and thrilled and he wondered if this is what girls felt like while watching really cheesy romance films and the couple finally got together or if girls felt this way about being noticed by their crush. After a moment of absolute joy, he quickly stood and grabbed the key from his bookshelf and unlocked the box so he could respond. "I will be," he wrote carefully a smile still lingering on his face as he stared down at her words. He pulled out his phone and snapped a quick photo as proof that his soulmate was real and that she at least cared a little bit and because he was absolutely in love with her handwriting and her in general and wanted to capture this moment.

His happiness, however, faded when suddenly a woman's voice appeared in his head, "Dammit, why can't he just give me a straight answer? I just wanted to know so I could stop worrying and go back to ignoring him forever, why must he be so damn difficult? Just answer you jerk, so I can put my mind at rest and we can go back to never speaking," His heart fell and shattered on this cold truth, that she wanted nothing to do with him. He knew it was her voice, it was the only thing that made sense, but suddenly he didn't want to know what her voice sounded like, he didn't want to know that her voice was one of the most wonderful things he'd ever heard, because the words it delivered were not. It hurt to be told by your soulmate, in your first interaction and the first time you've ever heard their voice, that they'd rather not have anything to do with you...ever.

"Well then I’m never going to answer cause I don’t want you to avoid me anymore," He responded bitterly in his mind and only slightly hoping that she would hear his response because he was highly upset with her.

"Please, just answer me, it’s driving me up the wall," Her voice said in response, meaning she'd heard his words. Her voice sounded exasperated which only infuriated him further. How dare she ignore him like this and get his hopes up by finally reaching out to him in the most insincere manner he'd ever heard.

"No, if it keeps you talking to me you’ll never know," He responded quite literally physically sticking his tongue out though there was no one in the room with him and then mentally chiding himself for his dumb behavior and silently questioning whether or not his soulmate was supposed to bring out the most immature parts of him or if this was a bad sign?

"So mature," she scoffed distracting him from his rambling thoughts about all of this and this odd situation he'd gotten caught up in. "Fine, don't tell me," She added a moment later and he sighed upset with the fact that he'd upset her, though he wasn't sure why because she'd upset him first. Maybe it was just because he was hardcore in love with her and this whole conversation hadn't changed that because her voice was amazing and he wasn't about to base his entire view of his soulmate around one conversation.

He had wanted to reply but was interrupted by a slurred voice from the hallway, "What are you doing?" his mother asked in her drunken voice and he sighed.

"Sorry mom, just working on homework, I'll come to make dinner now," He responded standing up and started to leave the room forgetting about his short sleeves and the black ink on his arm until she caught his wrist as he was walking past. He knew what was coming as soon as her hand closed around his arm and couldn't help but think "Well, tonight is the night I die..." he frowned as his mom pulled his arm closer to her eyes so she could read what was written. He prayed that his soulmate hadn't heard this last comment in his head, he didn't want to worry her more than she already was, even if she didn't particularly like him.

"Oh, so you're talking to her now?" His mother said with a dark tone her eyes darkening with rage as she took another swallow from the bottle in her hands. "I guess I didn't teach you well enough that only pain comes from soulmates," She said and dragged him towards the kitchen.

It was an hour after she finally stopped that he regained the ability to move and so he carefully struggled to stand up and then walked, or more like stumbled, towards the back door. Eventually, he made it through the door and collapsed against the back wall of the house. He stared up at the moon and smiled lightly. "I finally talked to her today," He said softly able to ignore the pain as he talked to the moon about the woman whose voice was in his head and words were on his skin. "I don't think she likes me very much, but I think it's just fear, these days there are so many stories about soulmates going bad and even if there weren't it wouldn't be too hard to get worried about this whole fated to be with someone. I think she's scared, but I'll keep loving her anyway," He said staring up at his friend the moon. "She reminds me of you, distant, cold, beautiful, loving, she's probably a great listener too, just like you. Plus, she's hiding a side of her, just like you," He added a soft smile lingering on his lips as he drifted to sleep in his backyard.

When morning came he didn't want to open his eyes, he wanted the night to return, so he could go back to the time when he spoke to the moon and had no worries other than his soulmate and whether or not she loved him. As soon as he saw the sun in the sky his hands started to shake and tears began to stream down his face. He could no longer hide from what had happened not in the glaring and garish light of day. The moon had always been gentle and kind, alluring in that it offered peace and hope in the darkness, but the sun had always been harsh and unforgiving it watched everything and stood distant with no quiet solace like the moon, but instead with the knowledge that you could never have it never reach it. It was distant and harsh and thought it knew all his secrets. The sun was no friend just a harsh critic who thought they understood him.

In the light of day he could not ignore the harsh bruises and the deep pain that he felt and had, he could not run to a quiet friend who would listen and comfort him instead he had to face the truth. A harsh and burning reality that his mom had beat him...again. That this was slowly turning into a habit of hers. The first time she'd beaten him had been the night when he'd been cooking dinner just a few days ago, this was only the second time and he didn't know how to handle it. He was scared and hurt and unsure and so his hands shook violently, his breathing became ragged, and his body was racked by the sobs that coursed through him each violent tremor of his body hurting him more and more. He had never been more thankful of the entirely superficial nature of his bond to his soulmate, that the pain would only carry skin deep. She wouldn't feel most of it and it made him glad that she was safe from this but that wasn't enough to calm his terror and soothe his agony.

He started to ramble unable to stop words from pouring out of his mouth like water dripping through fingers. "Please, please, please, please," He repeated over and over again unaware of who he was pleading to or what he was pleading for only aware that something was wrong, nothing was right.

Then he heard her voice "My favorite was, 'I’ll hold you in my arms and fly, We’ll fly towards the blue moon’ that was my favorite one of his little writings" and the thought of the moon and of her calmed him just enough to stop the muttering, remembering the image he'd drawn on his skin, the delicate blue moon and small blue stars framing carefully done words caused the tears to stop. He could remember sitting in class bored out of his mind as his math teacher droned on and on about something or other that he knew he should've been listening to. He remembered the gentle thought of just wanting to fly away, to soar out into nothingness away from the dismal, dreary, darkness of everyday life and enter a place far beyond. He remembered picking up the black pen and staring down at his skin and remembering his soulmate and the words coming to him then and there as he thought of his soulmate and flight and a better life. It was these memories that stopped the tears, not her voice, not the words she had said but memories of safety, memories of a time when all he had felt was love and peace and hope.

Once he stopped crying he stood shakily and he walked carefully to the side of his house where the fence gate stood and exited the backyard and turning right to go to his neighbor's house. He was still quivering and shaking as he reached his fist up towards the wooden door before him. He knocked lightly on the door and was thrilled when the youngest and only daughter of the household opened the door. "Oh, thank goodness, you're just who I needed to see," He said startling the girl slightly, he only ever came over to see her older brother.

"Why?" She asked staring at him like he was a madman very startled by his shakiness and the redness of his eyes. She knew something was wrong and had no clue why he would be looking for her in his moment of need.

"I need to borrow some makeup to cover some bruises before my soulmate sees them," He responded quickly and she nodded with a slight frown before beckoning him inside and leading him to her room, she didn't know how he'd got the bruises and didn't want to ask if it had anything to do with his haggard and shaken appearance. He looked like a leaf in the fall that had fallen to the ground and been trampled on one too many times and she didn't want to know what had caused such a bright boy to collapse like this.

"Do you need help with it?" She asked carefully as she handed him the makeup he'd need, watching him with a keen eye as he shook.

"No, I'll be ok, thanks though," He responded with a soft smile and she nodded watching him leave and undoubtedly enter her brother's room to get help from the older male.

She knew she was right when she heard her brother's voice "Are you sure you don't need help?" and then the quivering voice that answered him.

"Please," Was his answer in a shattered voice, but she knew she'd be no help and went back downstairs to watch whatever was on.

His hands were still shaking by the time the two of them had gotten the makeup to cover all the dark bruises that ran from his collarbone down to his waist. So his friend began to talk.

"Do you want to stay here for a couple of days?" His older friend asked carefully.

"No, my mom needs me, she won't eat if I'm not there and she doesn't mean it she's just hurting, it's worse lately because their anniversary is this month," He replied shaking his head softly, "But thanks for the offer," He added a moment later smiling timidly up at the older male, someone he'd come to see as an older brother.

"Let's go downstairs and get some breakfast," The older male said gently, extending his hand to help the younger boy up and then carefully guiding him down the stairs to the kitchen. They fixed up two bowls of cereal and chatted happily as friends do.

Not too long after breakfast, he ended up sprawled out on their living room couch while the two siblings bickered about what show to watch. He studied his hands carefully every now and then silently checking on whether or not they'd stopped shaking while his thoughts wandered to his soulmate and what she was doing. He wondered if she was awake yet or if she'd been awake longer than him, entirely unaware that she was talking to her brother about him.

Once his hands stopped shaking he couldn't help but think of her and the gentle words that had led to the memories and his ability to stop crying and so he made the decision then and there that today he was going to make her feel beautiful again. Today he needed the reminder more than ever that pain was made worthwhile by beauty. That even when the world burns and you stand in the center of the flames there is still something beautiful about that moment. At that moment he understood the allure of the sun, the bright golden rays, the warmth, the exhilaration of life brought by its fiery heat. So he reached over to the table nearby where he'd seen pens earlier and began to decorate his skin.

His friends watched him with warm smiles on their face as they realized he was doing fine once more, he hadn't lost that hopeful spark that the world was beautiful. They watched him as he carefully drew and wrote on his skin until suddenly he looked up at them with a mischevious glint in his eyes. "I need a favor," He said as he capped the pen and finished his last drawing upon his skin. "Will one of you write something across my collarbone?" He questioned with an innocent look on his face, a too innocent look on his face like a child trying to hide that they'd broken something.

"Fine," the other male responded coming over to kneel in front of the now art covered male. "Only because it might help me meet my soulmate," He responded before grumbling about something under his breath.

"You really think that writing on him is going to help?" His sister questioned wheezing with laughter at her older brothers thought process.

"Hey, all I know is the first time I meet my soulmate he's gonna yell 'Where have I seen your handwriting before?' if it just so happens that he sees it because I agreed to do this then that's great, I'm just trying to get my handwriting out in more places so I can meet the love of my life whoever that is," He responded rolling his eyes at his sister.

"Ok, I want you to write 'I’m tired of their stories let’s write our own,' across my collarbone," He directed pointing where he wanted it with his hand. The older male nodded and got to work writing it as carefully as he could. "Ok, now underneath that in smaller handwriting, write 'I’m getting this tattooed somewhere on me, eventually, so you can never forget if you want a say in where have someone write the answer on the back of your neck or something." He directed a moment later.

"Wait, what?" the older male said pausing as he wrote when he realized the younger boy was telling them all he was planning on getting a tattoo.

"You heard me, now write, old man," the younger boy directed a tad bit impatiently and the older man followed his directions and concluded writing the sentence. The three of them waited patiently in anticipation for an answer and were surprised to see it arriving on his right arm. "Well now I know she's right-handed," the younger boy said as the writing appeared in a different handwriting than the earlier 'are you ok?'. Then the older male began to read the answer aloud.

"I will accept this tattoo in one of three places, exactly where it is now, across the top of my back, or as a tramp stamp," He read not quite realizing what he'd said for a moment and this his face blanched slightly while his sister burst out laughing and the younger male blushed and hid his face in his hands.

"She's perfect," He muttered softly into his hands hiding the embarrassment and the absolutely giddy smile on his face. He rocked back and forth slightly nearly squealing...again.

"Only you would get this excited over the fact that your soulmate just suggested she get a tramp stamp," spoke the only girl in the room through fits of laughter.

"At this point, I'm pretty sure he'd think she was perfect no matter what she'd said unless it was ‘ew! No don't get a tattoo!’" replied the older male finally recomposing himself.

"I think you're right," replied his sister laughing once more about the boy who was absolutely giddy and rolling on the floor about his soulmate. "Oh wait, there's more writing showing up," She added a moment later and then began to read it aloud, "Whose handwriting is this on my sister's chest?"

"Ok, quick we've got to answer her, step one tell her I'm leaving it where it is but I may consider the tramp stamp idea and then answer that other question however you see fit," Spoke the younger boy finally collecting himself. The older man wrote quickly and that was the last communication between the two that day.

He spent most of the day with his older friend and his sister talking about his soulmate and their soulmates, his friend's sister had already found her soulmate so she spent most of the time just hyping them up with the idea of having a soulmate and getting them excited for the possibilities while the two boys made comments about what they thought their soulmates would be like. Whether they'd be tall or short and how they'd end up first meeting them.

Eventually, though he returned home and made his mother dinner before sneaking off into his room to sleep the night away, excited for the days to come and the future they could possibly hold, a future where he might meet the woman who had told him she wouldn't mind a tramp stamp.

(Still not my gif, credit to the owner/creator, cause I love it it’s super cute)

Congrats and thank you for making it this far in the post you’re amazing whoever you are and I love you!!! I hope you enjoyed this and I hope it’s not too much of the same thing I just really wanted to get you guys something as a reward for being amazing and because y’all were really excited about the last part and I don’t know I wanted to do something nice for all of you amazing people but it’s hard to write an extra part and the real part 2 at the same time. It was easiest to just work with what I had but if it’s too similar for you or you feel like you pretty much just read the same thing again I do apologize and totally understand. Anyways I really hope you liked it and thanks for sticking with me!! ALSO, ONE LAST REMINDER TO LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT I LOVE HEARING FROM YOU AND I WILL LOVE YOU EVEN IF YOUR COMMENT IS JUST A KEYBOARD SMASH FOLLOWED BY A HEART OR JUST A HEART OR LIKE ANYTHING REALLY!!!! (Sorry, that’s kind of really aggressive...I just really like hearing from you...and I want you to know that...)

~~~~~~BONUS FOR THE PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY MADE IT THIS FAR Y’ALL ARE WONDERFUL HUMAN BEINGS~~~~~~

“I want you to think very carefully about your answer to this next question,” She said as she glared at her brother who sat across from her. “Your answer will determine your fate, so be careful,” She added her eyes cold and focused on him.

“I only speak the truth,” He replied his steely gaze matching her glare neither one about to back down. “Now ask away,” He added and gazed carefully at the situation, this next chain of events could likely spell victory for her and that could not be allowed to happen, not with what lay on the line. 

“Taeyong, do you,” She began her voice low and intimidating as she kept her eyes carefully transfixed on him, “Do you have any eights?” She questioned keeping her face devoid of emotion other than fierce competitiveness and utter intimidation. 

“Go fish,” Taeyong responded and watched patiently as she drew from the pile if she drew an eight the game was effectively over, but if she didn’t he would be the winner, he knew all her other cards and had at least one of each of them, except for the eight, if she’d guessed any other card her victory would have been assured, with only four cards left in the draw pile, three of which were eights, the other the missing five, the odds were highly stacked in her favor but with a little luck he could still triumph. He watched her carefully, his face still as she glanced at the card. She tried desperately to keep up the cool and collected act but he saw her eyes twitch slightly and a smirk grew on his face. She deposited the card into her hand and he immediately started asking for her cards each one getting delivered up to him creating match after match. He had won. “I look forward to breakfast tomorrow, make something good,” He said with a smirk as he piled the cards back together to clean them up. 

“Shut up, we both know I’m the better cook,” She replied sticking her tongue out at her brother. 

“So mature my dear sister, so very mature,” He replied standing up. “Have fun waking up early to make it, I’ll be sleeping in,” He added as he walked away. She stuck her tongue out at his retreating back.

“I’ll be sleeping in,” She mocked in an odd voice as she grumbled to herself and started her own trek to her room. Looks like she was on breakfast duty in the morning. This was the fourth day in a row, she was starting to think she might just be really bad at Go Fish...

[franeridart]

Wow Hi I can't spell for shit but I was wondering if you could draw some more KamiSero? Your art style is really beautiful and there are not much KamiSero art >•

Awww thank you!!! And in the future I might, yeah! Right now I’m a bit swamped by the zine things and using the time I take away from it to draw low effort stuff or my main ships so I can’t promise it’ll happen soon, but I still like the ship lots so !!! might happen!!

Anon said:Hey thanks for that last art I know you're probably just staying on model and it doesn't really mean anything but it felt really good to see a character with my body type for once so thank you

Anon the pleasure was all mine! Miruko’s body type is beautiful to look at and a pleasure to draw, and if my indulging myself could make you happy then that makes it even better spent time!!

Anon said:I love you. That is all. Carry on.

Thank you!! I love you too!!!!!

Anon said:that drawing of hawks blessed me and my children and the children of my children, i feel the salvation in my bones, i've been purified

I dunno which one specifically you’re talking about, but thank you!!!! ;^;

Anon said:I just wanna say I love Baku I’m goods! Peace

Hell yeah anon love that boy!! Smother him in love!!!! Give him all the affection his heart can take and then more!!!!!

Anon said:This is from the anon asking about todoraka and iideku fusions, I just got far enough to find them, sorry for bothering you earlier!

Not a bother at all, don’t worry about it!!! And thank you for liking my designs enough to ask about them!!!!

Anon said:Hey!! I love your art so so so much and i was wondering if you could get in some mina and bakugo friendship content bc they're just,,, so underrated as friends and I love them

Ahhhhhhh the Baku // Mina friendship debate, nice, hadn’t been around on this blog for a while - you know, the reason why there isn’t much content and their friendship is somewhat underrated (unless we’re talking about full squad content, there’s a lot of baku and mina there) is that, going only by canon, they... aren’t friends. Of course Mina’s part of the squad, but she is more in virtue of the fact that she’s besties with Kaminari and Sero and has her backstory relationship with Kirishima, than because she has had any significant interactions with Bakugou (a bit like Jirou’s a member of the squad through Sero and Kaminari and Bakugou even if she’s got no relationship with Kirishima at all, all in all) - I, personally, like to think they could be great friends, you know? But if we’re talking canon I can count the times they interacted on the fingers of one hand (the only serious one being during the sports fest, which Mina herself commented as Bakugou picking her only cause of her acid being a good strategy against Todoroki’s ice)

I know this is sort of a digression from your question, but, as you obviously noticed since you sent me this question, lately whenever I have focused on Bakugou’s friendships in my drawings Mina hasn’t been there, and people have been more or less aggressively pointing it out to me, like I was doing a disservice to a canon friendship by not portraying it - when in truth the relationship in question has nearly no canon basis at all. So I just wanna say, from the bottom of my heart and honestly, I’m sorry if my liking to delve into and focus on Bakugou’s canon friendships makes you sad, but if the focus of a drawing or a set of drawings is supposed to be Bakugou and the relationships Horikoshi gifted him, then Mina’s most probably not gonna be there (for now, I’m still hoping Hori will add her to his growing list of canon friends soon *crosses fingers*)

Either way this has nearly nothing to do with your question and it wasn’t even really directed at you specifically, I just used the chance to address something that was bothering me a bit - THAT SAID! I do have something I mean to draw that’s gonna be focused on Bakugou and include Mina! It might not be exactly what you’re looking for, but I hope you’ll like it anyway, at least a tiny little bit! ;^;

Anon said:I loved your Have a Nice day comic. It really gave me a nice day. It’s totally cute I can imagine them living together and sing this every morning Love your art xoxoxo

Ahhhh thank you so much!!!! I’m super glad you liked it!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Bro I just wanted to thank you! Becuase of your amazing art on boku no hero academia. It got me intrested in checking it out. And let me tell you, I love this show sooo much,even if its getting really intense right now. So its all thanks to you that I even started watching it.Its even more amazing becuase I get to admire your stunning work base on it.Thank You!!!!! 💕💕💕💕

HECK I’m so glad you checked it out and ended up liking it!!!! I hope you’ll keep on enjoying it from now on too, anon!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Hey fran! I love your art style so much!! Will we ever see more of the Bakushima neighbor’s cat au?

I KEEP ON PROCRASTINATING ON THAT ONE!!! I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY!!!! It’s in the projects but I never!!! sit down!!!! to draw it!!!!! So I wanna say yes, because that’s the plan! But when I’m being honest I’m not so sure anon orz

Anon said:Okay but like.... hawks is hot right?? Its not just me??

Given the reaction the whole fandom has had to him, I’m pretty sure it’s not just you anon hahaha

Anon said:AAAAAA I BOUGHT A STICKER FROM YOUR REDBUBBLE ACCOUNT AND IT ARRIVED TODAY AND I LOVE IT!!!!!!

I’M SUPER GLAD TO HEAR THAT!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BUYING!!!!!!!

Anon said:Could you possibly draw more of the Deku + Kirishima fusion?

I... dunno? If I ever feel in the mood to play around with that AU again? But to be honest if I were to draw something that isn’t just a design for it it’s probably... not gonna be about kiri and deku of all people............ so I can’t promise anything, sorry!

Anon said:Hi! I know you haven’t really touched the fusions au in a while but please consider: miritama fusion

I have considered it! It’s the first one I’m gonna draw if I’ll ever feel like going back on the fusions!

Anon said:Let kirishima touch the butty

I’m 100% sure Bakugou lets him touch anything he wants, but if you want depictions of that this blog is not the right place to ask, anon hahaha

Anon said:First off, you draw the greatest art/headcanons for KiriBaku I've ever seen! Secondly, I found it funny since Bakugou is almost exactly like his mom, and since she got with Bakugou's dad by aggressively hitting on him, what if there was a scenario where Bakugou did that to Kirishima? Idk, I just thought it would be funny.

I actually have a couple of comics based on that concept!! Somewhere... in my bakushima tag............ I’ll def draw more on the same line in the future, tho!

Anon said:I know you posted your batteryacid (kamimina) picture a while ago but I just saw it and I'm sobbing I love it!

YO that makes me super happy, thank you!!!! I love that ship so much, it’s nice to know you liked the little thing I drew for it!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:hi, i just binge watched bnha for the first time and now that i understand all your comics i fucking love them, i'm in love, i love bakugou, i love them all, i love your art

And I love YOU to be hecking honest!!!! Thank you for loving my boy, anon!!!!

Anon said:i just want kirishima to meet bakugou’s family one time in the show and his mother is probably gonna wanna make him her second son and bakugous LOSING IT

I DO hope that’s gonna happen in the manga canon sooner or later, but meanwhile Kirishima met Mitsuki in one of the novels! She’d been taken hostage by a villain, and Bakugou yelled at her for it, and she yelled right back at him like she wasn’t in the hands of a villain right then, and Kirishima said “as expected from Bakugou’s mom” and Bakugou said “don’t admire her!” or something on that line - I’d give you a link if I knew how I tagged it when I reblogged it, but I’m sure if you dig a bit around you can find it! Maybe on @aitaikimochi‘s blog, they translated a lot of kiribaku novel moments!

Anon said:im supposing that you do, but why do you think you like bakugou so much? personally i just like the angry scowl-y but fluffy characters haha and really hes so!! cute!!! and cool!!! really!!!!! hes so good at so many things but he sucks so badly ay feelings its so!! endearing!!!! apart from this i meant to praise you and your work but i ended up screaming about bakugou hahaha. i love him too muchasgshdjl

Oh heck anon, you really don’t wanna get into this, if I started talking about why I love Bakugou as much as I do I’d probably end up saying a 10k worth of words hah I love everything about him, everything he is and everything he has the potential to be, everything he’s changed about himself and every step he’s taken along the way to be who he is right now. I love his personality and I love how strong he is, I love how hard he works, I love how angry he is and how honest and direct and genuine in everything he does he is. I love the way he interacts with people, I love his expressions SO MUCH, I love his habit of speaking in hyperboles and I love how he’s a fast thinker and how he has to go back and walk through every step he skipped when he explains things to people. I love that he presents himself as a genius when actually he just pours everything he has in being the best at everything he tries doing, I love that he’s autocritical and that he cares and that he admits when he’s wrong and that he cries, I love the fact that he cries a lot. I love that he’s set on his path and that he takes everything life throws at him and keeps walking head up and square shoulders, and also I love his eyes and his hero costume and the fact that he wants to be intimidating and yells DIE at inanimate objects and enjoys hiking in his spare time and that he calls people nerd like he isn’t one himself I just. Love him. So damn much.

Anon said:Franeriiiiii~ I see that you're trying new techniques on your arts! Very nice, I enjoy watching you come up with new clothing and whatnot. I also see that the painting is a bit different, more detailed. Just dropping by to let you know I see your efforts ❤ keep on exploring! Maybe you'll discover that you can do what you couldn't in the past. As always, have a good day and much love \0/

SOB thank you SO MUCH, anon!!!!!

Anon said:Hey Fran, how are you? I was wondering if you have any tips on how to know where to place the shadows in a drawing? I'm still a beginner and this is the hardest part for me... And I love your art very much!! You're amazing, thank you for sharing your talent with us!

God, I would love to give you a hand there but to be fair I have zero clue what I’m doing when shading, anon ;-; I go a lot about it following more gut feeling and what looks right, than any actual tecnique (which probably shows to people who have a deeper understanding of it than I do orz) the best I can tell you to do is to try to draw from real life, but really this is such a hard question for me to answer when I myself need to work more on it ;^; I’m so sorry!

Anon said:Bakushima alternative ship name: POPROCKS

A GREAT NAME I’m nearly sure I read a fic called that once!

Anon said:I just wanted to thank you for sharing your amazing work for us. You literaly made my day

AHHHHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!

Anon said:I just finished going through your kiribaku tag and I honestly don't know if I'm feeling fulfilled for all of it or empty because I just saw all of it daNG YOUR STYLE JUST FUCKING FITs KIRIBAKU SO MUCH I REALLY LOVE YOUR KRBK CONTENT AND THE KIDS FUUUUUUUKCKCKCKK. I'm really, really looking forward for more of your art but for now I gotta go through all your other content as well. Ps. Have I mentioned that I fucking love how you draw feet?????

OH MAN that’s such a nice thing to hear, that my style fits them!!! My style changed so much since I started drawing them that they probably influenced it to begin with, but I’m happy you like how it looks on them nonetheless!!! thank you so so much for the kind words and for taking the time to go through the whole tag!!!

Anon said:Hi! I’m an artist and i’ve been trying to draw boy teens for a while now but i cant seem to make them have muscles without making them look like sorta adults. Any tips? I like how you draw them

I dunno how qualified I am to answer this question since I’m still playing around with my style trying to work that out, but most of what I keep an eye out for are proportions and also how round I make the traits, I guess? The rounder the younger, as far as my art style goes - I also make the eyes bigger the younger my character is supposed to be, but that probably only works if you don’t mind your style not being all that realistic hahaha

Anon said:I want to go through and the like every single one of your posts but I feel like that's a little bit excessive. Since I can't do that, I would like to tell you how amazing you are and how even when I'm having a bad day your art always makes me smile. I hope you're having a lovely day!

Thank you so so much for this ask, anon!!!!!! I hope you’re having a wonderful day/week/month too!!!

Anon said:New hawk boy lookin like a snack.

I would lie if I said the first thing I thought when I read this ask was “I guess we’re talking chicken wings”, tbh

Anon said:Fran, I love your sketch of Yuuto!! :3 Do you ship anyone from yowapeda?

Thank you!!! And I guess I ship more or less anything with a vague canon basis? Which is, like, a whole damn lot of things thank you Watanabe for your gay biking children - I’m not particularly invested into anything at the moment, tho!

Anon said:Whenever I'm having a shitty day, I come back to your blog and scroll through it, the way you draw krbk is really sweet and gives me the warmth I need when I feel down. Thank you for sharing your beautiful art, you're amazing.

Sob thank you so much, oh my god! This is such a nice ask to get, I’m glad I can help you feel a lil bit better, anon ;^;

Anon said:Fran your iida is real real cute and I'm love

THANK YOU! I think he’s way less square than he’s supposed to be... I’m working on that lol

Anon said:KIRI'S PINEAPPLE HAIR??? SAVED ME. MY HEART IS SAVED. SOUL?? SAVED. LIFE??? SAVED.

I’M SO HAPPY YOU LIKED THAT!!!!!

Anon said:that drawing of hawks ended my life oh my goddddd he's bEAUTIFUL

Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Tbh I thought of Hawk teaching Tokoyami how to fly with his quirk like a bird would, but birds just fricken shove their kids out of the nest.

At this point I wouldn’t even put that past Hawks, t b h

Anon said:I love all your art and I only recently discovered all of your old kirikamibaku stuff and was wondering if you'd consider drawing it again?

YEP! Not in the near future tho, as explained in the answer to the first ask up here!

Anon said:For your fusion au do you have any of the dances figured out yet?

Only the KiriBaku one, which is just hand holding - the AU was never meant to be more than just the designs tho, so I can’t say I spent too long on this sorta things!

Anon said:Your art is so nice and beautiful that you could probably draw any two characters together and say it's a ship and I would just accept it without question like "You right omg how have I not noticed this befORE IT'S GENIUS" and it could literally even be two rocks. Not even characters. Just rocks. Bless you

THANK YOU this is!!!!!!!! such a cool feeling omg so much power to have.......... I’m gonna need to use it wisely (I say, but the first thing I thought when I read the two rocks thing was “I did draw Kiri and Tetsu in the past!” so I guess wise isn’t a thing I am at all lol)

Anon said:I’m sure you get asked this a lot but is it okay if I post some art of yours on amino? (With credits to you of course)

Nope, sorry! I don’t allow reposts with or without credit, please don’t repost my stuff - if you really wanna share you can just drop a link to the original post~

Anon said:Can I repost your art in my Instagram page with credit please ?

Anon said:Can i repost your art with credit ?

Again, sorry but I’d prefer it if you did not do that!

Anon said:Hello! Opinions on iida x deku x todoroki? I love ur art sm and ur latest thing(which inspired this ask haha) hope ur having a nice day!

Love it!!! It’s one of my main ot3s in bnha!!!! And thank you!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Can you draw more Bakugo with glasses?? I love my goth/jock/nerd son. (I also love your art btw :'D💕)

Thank you!!! And I can! And most probably will!!! Can’t say how soon that’s gonna be, tho!

Anon said:was the art of bakugou doing kirishima's hand pose/stance based off of the official card game or was that a super happy coincidence? :'D

Seeing as I posted the comic weeks before the card came out, I’d say it was a coincidence haha that said! In the card Bakugou isn’t actually doing Kiri’s pose! He’s doing his own, which is adorably similar to Kirishima’s - one closed hand against an open palm as he lats out an explosion, you see him take the stance as he gets ready to fight now and again in the manga and anime! 

Anon said:Psst, you got that Bakukamikiri?

Sadly, not at the moment :( as I said, maybe in the future~

Anon said:I love your art more than anything and your Kiribaku keeps me alive, especially now it's finals week. Also your Kaminari is a beautiful boy who deserves all my love. I have to ask for more of him. I love you omg!!!! Please never stop drawing! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

More Kaminari is coming your way! Definitely! Since I draw him a lot all things considered and you therefor you don’t really need to ask to see more of him haha