#made a few adjustments to a sketch i did a few weeks ago but didn't like at the time

[tenpoints4andy]

hmm?

[cuubism]

physical therapy part 4

--

It takes some time, but finally, Dream's hand starts to feel better when he's painting. Granted, his grip strength still needs some work, and he's had to adjust the way he holds a brush to accommodate the lingering stiffness he gets in some of his fingers, but he's finding it hard to care when a few months ago he couldn't draw a straight line without it turning into a scribble. He'd known Hob was good at his job, but it still feels like a miracle.

The only downside is that once he makes enough progress Hob will surely decide to end their sessions. And while he had said that he liked Dream, that he cared about Dream... Dream is finding it hard to feel assured of those feelings. Someone's feelings can change on a dime, and it's impossible to predict.

But finally the day does come when Hob deems him progressed enough to simply continue his exercises at home. "At this point I think you've regained enough mobility that it's just a matter of gradually increasing how much you're using your hand," he says. "You've made a ton of progress."

"Have I?" Dream is less sure. Some things are certainly easier now, like doing tasks around the house, and picking things up. Art is another matter. Though perhaps he is simply making excuses because he doesn't want to stop seeing Hob.

"Yeah, look." Hob pulls out a folder from amongst his files, and shows Dream several sketches--the ones Dream's made in session, which he's apparently kept. Dream picks up the oldest sketch, the cats he'd doodled at his first appointment. They're shaky and uneven, like something he might have drawn when he was barely four. He supposes he can't deny the progress since then. He's torn between wanting to tear the drawing up, for it's too wretched a reminder--and wanting to hold it close to his chest.

"It's not that I think there's no more room for improvement, or anything," Hob says. "I just don't think continuing these frequent sessions is going to offer more than a marginal benefit."

Dream thinks that the benefit he is receiving at this point is more in being able to look forward to seeing Hob each week, than the physical therapy itself. He needs something to look forward to. He's put Hob's objectively terrible finger painting on his fridge. It's still the only spot of color in his empty flat. He needs that.

"So," Hob continues, "I thought I'd take you out to celebrate."

That pulls Dream from his head. "You... will?"

Hob winks at him. "Promised you, didn't I?"

Yes. Dream supposes he had promised that if Dream's feelings held true Hob would act on them. Is that what he's doing? Dream's growing disappointment swiftly morphs into something else. Hope.

"I--" he swallows hard. "I. Would like that." It's still strange, to have something he wants. And to feel like it may be okay to express it.

"Perfect." Hob grins, gets up, holds out a hand.

"Now?"

"You got somewhere else to be?"

Dream never has anywhere else to be, and doubts he would go there if he did. He takes Hob's hand.

Hob takes him to a Chinese restaurant nearby, and Dream looks at him suspiciously as Hob passes him a pair of chopsticks with a cheeky grin. "Now you are just testing me."

"Yup. 'Course if you can't use chopsticks in the first place then it's moot."

Dream can use chopsticks. Could. No, can. Death would say that he should think positively.

So he takes the chopsticks.

Once their food comes, Hob, the absolute bastard, puts down his own chopsticks and picks up a fork instead. And Dream knows, somehow he just knows, that it's not because he can't use them. He's teasing Dream. Or perhaps ensuring that Dream won't compare himself if he struggles. Or both.

He should feel hurt by the teasing but... somehow he's not.

"See?" Hob says when Dream manages to eat his noodles with the chopsticks. It's... not that hard. It doesn't even hurt. Maybe Hob is better at his job than Dream even thought.

It makes him tear up. Such a silly, small thing to start crying over when he's barely cried at all, even when he'd first hurt his hand.

"Hey, it's okay," Hob soothes him, wiping away Dream's tears with his thumb. "I think the noodles are salty enough without the addition of tears, hm?"

Dream laughs, wiping at his eyes when the tears keep falling. "Good tears," he manages to say.

"I know," Hob says, and smiles at him.

Dream surprises himself by having an actually nice time. He hasn't had a nice time doing something in so long. It feels good. He doesn't want it to end.

Of course, it does end, and he finds himself lingering outside the restaurant, hesitant to go home. Particularly as he no longer has a set time when he will see Hob. He feels aimless without that, but. It is hard to ask.

"Dream..." Hob starts, likewise lingering in front of the restaurant. The lights of the signage above cast his face in shades of violet. Dream has thought him handsome before, but never so much as now.

Hob hesitates over what to say, then finally just steps over to him. "Come here."

And before Dream can decide how to react, Hob folds him into a hug.

Dream goes still on instinct. Then, gradually, relaxes into Hob's strong hold. He... can't remember the last time someone hugged him.

He lets himself tuck his face into Hob's shoulder.

"Hey," Hob says. His voice is so close to Dream's ear now. "I'm proud of you."

Dream hears himself make a tiny whimpering sound. He. He does not know how to be proud of himself. He thinks he would only be proud of himself if he could go back in time and stop himself from getting in that terrible relationship to begin with. But he does like how it sounds when Hob says it.

Hob gives him one more squeeze, then, disappointingly, releases him. "I almost forgot. I have something for you."

He digs around in his bag and comes back with a box that looks rather like art supplies of some kind. "It's modelling clay," he explains. "So you can play around and work on your hand without just doing, you know, boring exercises all the time."

Hob is too considerate of him, truly. Dream holds the box close.

"You okay to get home?" Hob asks, and Dream nods. His ex has not bothered him again, and Dream is now hopeful that he won't. Though that does not necessarily mean he doesn't want Hob to follow him home.

"Good," Hob says. Then, while Dream is still thinking about the hug and the clay and everything else, Hob leans in and kisses his cheek. "Goodnight, Dream."

Dream stands paralyzed until Hob is gone, and it's only then that he realizes he failed to set another time for them to meet. He supposes he does have Hob's office contact info. Still, it is disappointing not to have something to look forward to.

But when he gets home, and opens the box of clay, he finds a note inside. It has the name of a coffee shop, and Tuesday, 3pm?, and Hob's personal number. At first he's confused. Why wouldn't Hob simply ask him while they were together? And then he realizes that Hob must be trying to give him a chance to comfortably back out if he wants to by letting him decide in private. It makes him want to cry again. Hob truly is too considerate of him.

But he takes out his phone and types in Hob's number, and a simple reply. Yes.

[crystal-rebellion]

So - as some of you may be painfully aware, I am very, very slow about posting chapters to my stories, sometimes even years on them. But they ARE still active, and I do still have ideas and drafts and... stuff.

And I got to thinking - I do quite a few prompts and little one-off scenes, things that don't have a place in a story, or might be used in one later, etc. That's... sort of the equivalent of a warm-up sketch or a doodle, right? And people share doodles and sketches all the time.

So I think I'll do the same. Start sharing more of my 'warm up sketches' and 'doodles' - or drabbles if you will.

I do have a list of prompts I've already done here, and will probably be adding these to it.

Found this in my google docs from about four years ago, including a screenshot of the Lotura Discord server discussion that started it. (Permission granted from the lovely folks featured here to share on Tumblr)

So I did. Drabble below the cut. 👇👇👇

"My queen!"

Allura glanced up from the book in her lap as the Drulish guardsman saluted in utter reverence. 

"Yes?"

As he rose from his deep bow, Allura closed the heavy tome in her lap worriedly and rose to her feet.  Setting the information aside, she began to approach the intimidating, armored soldier.

"I am pleased to inform you, your husband and children have returned."

Allura felt the wind leave her lungs as relief crashed into her body.  She nearly crumpled on the spot; barely catching the back of the chair with her palm to support her weight.

"Thank the heavens," she murmured, quickly brushing away the tears that budded in the corners of her eyes.

"They will be landing on platform Beta in approximately twenty minutes.  ...We thought we saw them on the radar much earlier but... we didn't want to give you false information until we had their landing clearance in hand.  It is, in fact, them."

"Thank you," she murmured, holding her composure together long enough for the guard to salute and leave her in peace.

She collapsed back into the chair, sobs racking her form as sheer joy radiated from her in a manner she could not properly articulate.  Lotor and their children - elder daughter and younger son - had been on their first Campaign for nearly a month.  She and Lotor had gone in circles on the tradition of conquering planets, and the war couple had finally settled on a medium; the children would indulge in the cultural tradition, but only a modest amount of spoils would be taken - and absolutely no enslavement.  The "conquered" planets would easily be able to recover, but the children could practice their skill in the process and honor half their heritage.

The decision not to join them had been twofold - she wasn't the right person to help teach them the ways, and she feared she might interfere more than help.  Moreover, if both governing royals of the Empire were to disappear, chaos would be left in their wake.  She had reluctantly, dutifully, stayed behind to attend to the ministrations of government.

It had been a lonely endeavor; the first day had left her excited, wondering what he and the children might be up to.  The second day was equally full of curiosity and wonder.  As the days bled to weeks, and the weeks to a month... her ambition and eagerness turned to melancholy and sorrow.  As chaotic as the young ones running about the castle could be, the reprieve from them unpredictable was short-lived.  She missed the confusion, the Drulish activity, the discord and the eventfulness.  While her first night alone had resulted in an uninterrupted spa day, complete with an elegant soak in the bath - it had rapidly deteriorated.  Nights felt cold without her husband, and days felt bleak without her children.

Finally, they were home.  Safe.  Sound.  And home.

Allura brushed away the tears once more and stood upright, smoothing out her gown and adjusting her hair before departing the room.

Swift, intense strides made quick work of the distance between her and Platform Beta.  She entered the deck as the familiar warcraft touched down.  Her hands clasped tightly over her chest when her heart fluttered, the steel door closing behind the vessel.  Wind whipped around her, flaring her gown and hair as everything settled into place.  The familiar hiss of the vessel depressurizing to match the planet's pressure sounded, and the bridge unfurled from the entry.

At the top appeared three familiar figures; Lotor in his finest armor, Alenna in a similarly matching dress, and Mero; the 'softest' of the two.  He wore no armor, preferring the vestments of the diplomats.

"Now.  Which one of you can go hug your mother first?"

Shrieks of laughter caught the queen by surprise, and despite her understanding of the culture she had married into, she found herself flat on her back with her two children clutching her torso desperately, each declaring victory over the other.  A laugh broke from her throat and she enveloped them both in her arms, sitting up right and drawing them close.

"I'm so happy you have returned, my dears," she murmured against them, breathing deeply to block the flood of emotion that threatened to overthrow her.  "How was your first Conquest?"

She blinked as shrieks of chatter bloomed up from both the kids, Alenna the most animated of the two.  Allura only laughed, kissing them both on the temple, much to their disapproval.  At the sound of Lotor's bootsteps, the children peeled off their mother just in time for him to extend his palm down to her.  Gracefully, she took it, eagerly allowing him to pull her into his arms, his lips catching hers with no warning - not that she expected any.

"I missed you so much," he murmured between gasps for air.

Allura was barely aware of the noise of disgust the children had made at the sight of their parents snogging before they ran off as she laced her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. 

"You have no idea," she replied.

Bonus:

--One Month Earlier--

"Absolutely not."

"Allura.  My sweet,  Surely you must realize how important this is for the children, especially Alenna!  It's a rite of passage for her!  Mero has a few years, but he could benefit from seeing Alenna's Hunt."

Allura shuddered, brushing off Lotor's hands.

"That's so vile, the way you word it.  Hunt.  Spree.  Conquering.  You sound so gleeful about it, as if you enjoy it as a sport."

"...Allura.  We do."

She flashed him a dangerous look, her temper riling.

"Yes, you'll have to forgive me, my sweet," she quite sneered the words back to him, her temper elevated to a level he had not seen since their courtship.  "I was on the other end of that  spree as you call it.  I forbid it.  No child of mine will be plundering another world.  No chance."

Lotor exhaled in frustration, pacing away from his furious wife.

"What about - "

"Never."

"Hear me out," he added gently, his lips curling into a bemused smirk at her fire.  When she said nothing, her gaze blazing dangerously on him, he continued.  "What if they practiced the tradition - and!"  He held up his hands as she began to interject.  "Left everything behind."

Allura blinked, the swell of fury deflating as she considered his words.

"You mean commit to the sport, but take no trophies?"

"Well, perhaps a bit of gold here or a pretty jewel there... but no, nothing like it used to be."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously on him.

"Absolutely zero living spoils."

"Of course, I didn't think you'd like your children bringing back slaves to serve you."

"Lotor-"

Once more, his palms rose in the air defensively, his chin ducking as a smirk quirked at his lips.  He knew he was only seconds away from having something heavy chucked at him.

"No, my love.  No living spoils, and only a token amount of physical ones.  Will that suffice?  It's an important custom to honor for us, even if the purpose for it no longer exists."

She exhaled, plopping down into an armchair.

"I suppose so.  How long?"

"Weeks.  Maybe a month.  The First Campaign is not a long endeavor.  Not usually. "

"You'll go with them? Look after them, keep them safe?"

He stared at her for a moment, his victorious look ebbing at her forlorn expression.

"....You're not coming," he murmured in realization.

Allura looked away, rubbing her arm uneasily.

"I'm not sure I could stomach such destruction, even in play.  I don't think that I could properly... endorse this in a manner that befits your customs," she explained.  "Besides.  Who will run things if we're both gone?  I mean there's Cossack, but I..."

"Oh gods below us, no.  He is a worthy and admirable soldier, but we'd come back to a bloodbath of a civil war because he couldn't figure out how to translate a document properly."

Allura giggled, casting her husband a sad smile as she rose from her chair and approached him.

"I'll miss you.  It will be a long time before you're back."

He palmed her ribcage as she came into his heartspace, her own fingertips touching his chest, her nose inches from his.

"We should make the most of tonight then," he murmured darkly.

"I would very much like that."

[yelenasdiary]

The Third Widow || Power & Control

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff X Fem! Belova! Reader.

Summary: Y/n Belova is the younger biological sister of Yelena Belova and the adoptive sister of Natasha Romanoff. Saved from Red Room by Melina & Alexei she now must adjust to a new normal. Going to school, recovering, and finding love in the eyes of another troubled teen, Wanda Maximoff. All while General Dreykov has his eyes set on claiming back what he calls his most powerful ‘widow’.

Angst | Dark Themes 18+ | Mentions of committing murder | Mentions of kidnapping | Brief stalking | 3.5K |

Notes: Flashbacks are bold, italic and start with ‘~’ | Written in second person. | 

Translations: Убить Белова (Kill Belova), 

AC: Small time jumps through this chapter, not many but just a few to get the ball moving again. 

The Third Widow Masterlist

Melina, Alexei, Yelena and the other Widows arrived back at Melina's home for a must needed rest. Yelena checks the house through and through before letting anybody inside. "She was here" she looked to Melina, as the Alexei got everybody comfortable. "How do you know?" she whispered not wanting to worry the others. 

"Her bedroom door was opened, and her sketch book opened on her bed. I have to go find her" Yelena hands Melina the dust vile, "I need to bring her back so we can free her like we did the others" she adds. "Yelena, stay first, you need rest as well" Melina suggests as she places the vile safely in the inside pocket of her suit. 

"She's out there and she needs rest as well. I'll be back, I'm just going to go back and search for her" 

"You can't! S.H.E.I.L.D will be all over that place and I doubt she would be there. Give it a few days and we will all go looking, okay" 

Yelena sighed in frustration, but she knew Melina was right and you wouldn't be stupid enough to stick around. She took herself upstairs to the room she once called her own, Melina leaving it exactly how she left it. The photo of you and her in Red Room many years ago sat by her bedside table but it didn't bring her the same joy it once did. 

Meanwhile, you were busy finding a safe place to lay low and gather yourself, work out what was next for you. Finding an abandoned, run-down warehouse that still had a power connection seemed to be the perfect place for shelter while avoiding not only S.H.E.I.L.D but also the Avengers. Even with Dreykov dead, his voice ran through your mind like a hamster on its wheel. Repeating your mission over and over, "Убить Белова" along with a split-second flash of her mug shot in your mind. "Убить Белова" again and again wasn't convincing you of completing the mission, not even to avenge him. A state of confusion from what you found at Melina's house was what stopped you from overreacting. Instead you made yourself comfortable with the limited resources you had and tried to shake Dreykov's voice running laps in your head. 

As the weeks went on, you couldn't forget the last words that Dreykov had ever said to you about the mission that was yet to be completed started to take over your mind set. Even with Dreykov dead, he still had some control over your thoughts, feelings, and actions. The warehouse seemed to be a perfect hide out as you watched Melina's house from a safe distance throughout the day. Watching and listening the best you could to the conversations that traveled around the home. 

"I still don't have any leads to where she could be!" Yelena said as she followed Melina out to the pig's pen. "We will find a lead when things settle down and we hear from Natasha" Melina replied before filling the pig's water with fresh water. "We don't know when we'll hear from Natasha!" Yelena argued in frustration.

 "I know you want to find her, I do too but with everything in the air still, we need to be smart about this" 

"She's out there! Alone! She doesn't have a place to go back too!" Yelena snapped, "if you won't help me, I'll find somebody who will!" she added before storming off. Her words making your heart feel like it was breaking lightly. You watched as the blonde stormed back inside the familiar building while Melina stayed attending to the pigs. 

Yelena thought about seeking help from Wanda in hopes maybe she'd be the one to draw you out of finding or at least find her some sort of clue as to where you might be. Given the way they'd been towards each other since your kidnapping, Yelena wasn't exactly sure if Wanda would be open to the idea. She even thought about asking Kate for extra help but struggled to put her issues with Kate aside, knowing how much she hurt her when she left. 

"Give her time" Alexei placed a hand on Yelena's shoulder, "she'll come around" he adds. "What time do we have?! Y/n is missing and none of you give a shit!" Yelena spat, her built up hurt and anger showing its colors. "If you were Y/n, where would you go?" Alexei asked while looking into Yelena's green eyes, "I've already done that, I've got to all the places I thought she'd go, I've been back to the sight and there was nothing! It's like she just vanished" Yelena explained, her frown now becoming more of a headache, "She's still under Dreykov's control, even dead and he has her hidden!" She adds, shrugging off Alexei's hand from her shoulder. Alexie didn't want to anger Yelena anymore but just like Melina, he had no answers to give the young blonde in front of him. The only thing he could do was assure her that you'd be found and when that happens, you'd be safe once again. 

——

For you, trying to connect the dots between what you knew, heard, and were told was starting to take its toll. As you sat alone in the dark with dimmed light most of the time while your mind tried to work out what was going on. With no memory of anything besides Red Room, you couldn't remember anything that would be any help to you and now the only person you needed, the person you relied on was dead. Taking his secrets and the answers to your endless questions with him. 

The power Dreykov held over you, even dead was beyond you. His voice running through your mind now with things you didn't care to remember, making you think about the last time you saw him, the last thing he ever said too you but more importantly, the last mission he gave you, "Убить Белова". Maybe if you carried out that mission it would make the voice in your head stop but what purpose would you have if that mission was carried out and you did in fact kill Yelena. 

Natasha was able to get the Avengers back together with minor difficulties, she didn't mention too much about the events that took place with Red Room and reuniting with Yelena. All they knew was that General Dreykov was dead, and that Red Room was finally taken down. Clint of course knew the details of everything that had happened, Natasha telling him everything down to the depts of her deepest feelings. Feelings about how much she truly missed you and wished she, Yelena, Melina and Alexei could've saved you. Clint offered his hand in giving her and Yelena help in tracking you down.

Clint and Natasha worked off the records in tracking you down, but it seemed harder than Natasha thought. Even though she was trained in Red Room and had to think smarter than she already was. Clint could see the strain the stress was causing her, the frustration but he knew Natasha better than anymore. She would find you, one way or another. 

"She's still in Ohio" Clint entered Natasha's room while she was catching up on late minute mission reports. "What?" She looked at him confused; her mind completely focused on the screen in front of her. Clint plugged the USB hard drive into her laptop, taking control of the device, pulling up street CCTV footage of a woman he believes to be you as you walked around a street market in black jeans, runners and a black hoodie. "How can you tell it's her? You never met her" Natasha frowns while watching the footage. 

"Just wait" Clint says, pushing the laptop more in front of Natasha again. She watched from different angles as you walked by stalls Natasha noticed the skilled pick pocketing skills you'd gained, swiping purses and wallets from passing people, "Watch right there!" Clint paused the footage, "Tell me this isn't her" he adds before pressing play once again. You were stopped in your tracks by a poster print of Black Widow, picking it up slowly to study the image. "This doesn't prove that it's her, Clint" Natasha looked up at him with a raised brow. 

"Look, I had Lewis follow her through the market and she was able to pick her up on some other CCTV footage" Clint explained, "when was this taken?" Natasha asked while watching the footage. "Just over a week ago" Clint replied with a disappointed sigh. Natasha looked at her closest friend and saw that he was trying his best to help, "What else did you find?" she asked him. It didn't take any longer before Natasha believed that it was you, watching as you easily moved your way through the crowded market and down the main road before disappearing down the back alleys. 

"What do you think?" Clint asked when the footage stopped, Natasha lent back in her chair with a train of thought before looking up at Clint, "I have to go home" she replied. 

----

"Убить Белова" 

Dreykov's voice echoed through your mind as you made modifications to your poor handgun that you brought of a young male on the street only a few days earlier. News traveled quickly around Ohio that multiple people were reporting their bank cards and cash stolen while shopping although the police had no leads that they could go on, even if they did, you weren't bothered. You'd watched Melina and Alexei's house until you'd made up your mind, the only way to get Dreykov's voice out of your head was to carry out the mission until successful, kill Belova. 

Once the handgun was completed, you placed it in the large black carry bag along with the rest of your equipment that you'd mustered over the week. Different types of grenades, two handguns equipped with silencers, a rifle for long range that also was modified with a silencer and a better sight ranger, an SMG, night vision googles, plenty of ammunition and of course, melee weapons. As for a suit, ripping apart your widow suit and coming up with a design of your own, taking note of what you hated most about the original black suit and replacing it with something you thought was better. 

"I thought you might want to see this" one of the young males you'd paid to help you acquire your equipment placed his mobile phone in front of you. 

"GUYS!! BLACK WIDOW JUST CAME INTO MY DADS STORE!!" 

Read the social media post causing a cold smile forming on your lips, "Does this change anything?" The young man asked. Without as much as a light chuckle you walked over to your safe, another item the man collected for you, punched in your code and grabbed the left-over large clicks of money before tossing it over to him. "Take it, share it and get out of here" you said looking him in the eyes. He tossed it back and shook his head, "Take it as rent or whatever" he replied. 

"Rent?" you asked with a frown. 

"We want to stay. We don't care what it is you do, but" the man paused for a moment and let out a sigh, "we haven't had a roof over our head in so long, one that doesn't get us soaked through the winter. We'll stay out of your way, we'll do our thing, we'll keep paying you money to let us stay" he explained. You'd picked him and his friends off the street, paid them generously for their services and told them as long as you needed their help, they could stay at the warehouse. "Please, we have done everything you've asked us to do and we haven't said a single word to the police or anybody" his begging only made you shake your head in reply. 

"Get out of here, you can't stay" you tossed the money back to him and grabbed your suit, "you won't win" he said, stopping you in your tracks before turning to face him again, "What?" you questioned. "Killing Black Widow, that's what you're doing, right? I saw the same symbol on your suit before you cut it up" he explained, "she's a part of the avengers, they have been saving the world for years and you're just one person" he adds. Chuckling at his words, you took a few steps closer to him, enough to see the nervous sweat drops stream from his forehead, "she is no widow, you know nothing" you replied in a low tone, "I don't want to see you again or your friends, now get out of here" you added staring into his brown eyes. After searching your eyes, he realized you were serious, "Fine" he mumbled as he turned his back to you, "don't forget your money" you said before walking away. 

----

Melina opened the door slightly shocked to see Natasha standing on the other side, "Natasha if I knew you were coming, I would've made dinner" she greeted her, "I wish it was a friendly call in" Nat sighed, "is Yelena staying here?" She asked. "She is but she's not here at the moment, she hasn't stopped looking for Y/n since Red Room was destroyed" Melina explained., "That's why I'm here" Natasha looked at Melina, "Y/n is here in Ohio, and I know how to find her" she adds with a promising tone. "You best come inside then, have a drink" Melina opened the door wider. 

The two walked into the kitchen, Melina pouring them a shot of vodka each before she asked any questions. "Where's Alexei?" Natasha asked as she looked around slightly. "He's out, he worries about Yelena so whenever she goes wondering, he follows" the reply sounded almost disappointing, "Anyway, what do you know?" Melina asked to shift the topic. 

Natasha downed the shot of vodka then looked back at Melina. "When I spoke with Dreykov he mentioned that Y/n mission was to kill Yelena. When I saw her, she had no idea who I was, he spoke to her as if she was a pet. Now that Dreykov is dead, she has nowhere to go and she's still under his control, I think she might come for Yelena" Natasha explained as Melina poured the two of them another shot. "Then we do what we have done with all the other Widow's" Melina replied as if Nat's thoughts didn't faze her, "Yelena has been looking for her non-stop, how did you find her?" she added before downing her second shot. 

"CCTV footage, those headlines you keep seeing about people reporting their bank cards and wallets getting stole, it's her and she was very sly with how she's done it. She needs that money for something, it's not just food and clothes. I think you need to bring both Yelena and Alexei back so we can talk about this. From what Dreykov said, I have a feeling Y/n is going to be a lot harder to free than the others" Natasha explained. 

"They could be gone for days; I don't know where they are. My job is to stay here and make more of that counteragent gas"

"When did they leave?"

"Yesterday morning, they have been running around in circles with no leads. Tell me you're not going to promise Yelena something you can't keep, Natalia" Melina screwed the lid back on the vodka bottle as Natasha looked at her differently at the sound of a name she hasn't heard in a long time. "I've learnt never to make promises" Natasha replied.

After waiting only a few short hours, Yelena and Alexei returned. Yelena was furious that Alexei had been keeping an eye on the assassin from a distance, but that anger was quickly forgotten about once Natasha had explained everything to the three of them in greater detail, even showing the CCTV footage. 

"I want to keep this between us until she is freed!" Yelena spoke up, looking at Natasha. "Well, actually, I've already spoken to Wanda" Natasha replied, "we could use her if anything and besides, she already knows Y/n probably better than the four of us" she added knowing her comment would hurt Yelena, but it was the truth. Wanda was the one who had spent the most time with you before Dreykov had claimed you back. 

"Is Wanda here?" Yelena asked.

 "She's on her way. She had some things to deal with first"

----

"Would you like me to come with you?" Vision asked as Wanda packed a bag, not caring what she'd placed inside just as long as it had spare clothes and anything else she may need. "No, honey" she replied without even looking up at Vision. "Wanda, please" he begged taking a few steps closer to her and placing a hand on top of hers. Wanda closed her eyes just for a second before she turned and looked Vision in the eyes knowing she'd have to finally tell him about the lost love she once knew. 

"It's important that you stay" she said, taking his hand into hers, "This isn't anything to do with the team, it's something that Natasha and I need to deal with" she explained hoping she could answer any questions he had when she'd return. "I don't understand what is so important that can't be shared with me, is it Natasha's business?" Vision asked knowing that if it were Natasha's business than he would not bother to ask anything more. "It is her business just as much as it is mine" Wanda replied as she sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at her now lover. 

"Natasha as a younger sister, not Yelena. She doesn't speak about her and nor do I, I'm not sure why…I guess we just found it easier to not. I met Y/n when she was freed from the Widow program" Wanda smiled softly to herself at the first memory she had of you, "She was young, confused and just wanted to do good. Yelena introduced her to Kate and I one day at school and for some reason I was so curious about her, I'd never looked at anybody as long as I looked at her. I knew it made her uncomfortable, but she came around eventually…long story short, she was taken again, and we haven't been able to find her" Wanda added as she wiped the tears building in her eyes, "now Natasha think she's found her and with what I can do…I need to be there" 

Vision sat down beside Wanda and once again took her hand into his, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. "I'm sensing there was more to this Y/n" he spoke in a lightening tone to brighten the mood a little, it caused Wanda to chuckle lightly as she turned to face him, "A lot more" she said with a broken smile. 

"You loved her?" Vision asked, not in a demanding tone but just to confirm his own questions. 

Wanda's eyes dropped to her lap as more tears filled her eyes, "I never got the chance too" she spoke, "we were only teenagers, but I saw something special in her" Wanda added she began to look up at Vision again, "I don't mean to hurt you Vis and I should've told you a lot sooner but I –" 

"Wanda, it's okay" Vision butted in, "I've always thought there was something you didn't want to share with me. I couldn't make you share it but I knew one day you would" he assured her, bringing a hand up to gently wipe her tears, "she is important to you"

"But so are you Vis"

"I will wait for you, at the compound. When you return, we'll work this out but right now, you are needed elsewhere" he smiled softly even though he knew the outcome of the relationship before the words left his mouth. "A-are you sure?" Wanda asked, her heart breaking for a man she loved but knew she couldn't love forever. Vision nodded before placing a soft kiss on Wanda's lips, the last kiss he knew they'd share. 

----

Once Wanda had arrived at Melina and Alexei's house, they all began to come up with a game plan on what to do next. Wanda expressed that she'd only use her magic if absolutely need be and agreed to refill your mind with the memories you had before being taken. Yelena didn't admit it but nothing had scared her more than knowing her own sister was coming after her with no memory of the sisterly bond they shared, Natasha could see it clear in Yelena's eyes as if she'd shared the unspoken worry with her once before. 

Melina got to work immediately to make more of the counteragent gas that would be used on you to finally free you once and for all and Alexei, well, he did what Alexei always did, focused on the mission.

Taglist: @justabrokensunshine | @sayah13 | @nattyolw | @exclusivitymajor | @bibliophilicbi | @when-wolves-howl | @that-one-gay-mosquito | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @foggymoonbanana | @atmnothere | @justyourwritter69 | @wiertarkanah | @marvelfan98 | @jasminebelding | @bluesimps-world | @wandasobsession | @marvel-fan-2021 | @lattayhottay16 | @jowshuaayee | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @capswife | @1tsmydan | @roman0ffsheart | @mrscromanoff | @immadowhateva | @magnificentworldtf | @originaltrashheap | @mousecakez | @skittlebum |  

[holycorrupt]

if you have the time/energy to elaborate, what's your process like for coloring stuff you ink traditionally? i've figured out a few different methods over the years, but i generally stick to fully digital or traditional for a piece, so i'm curious to see how you do it! :0

This is such a fun question for me because I get to both ramble about my art process and have an excuse to throw some colors on this Breloom I drew ages ago.

I use Clip Studio Paint and an Ipad for my digital stuff so I'll be referring to the processes on that but I'm sure there is a work around for other programs as well :^)

I scan my traditional art at 400dpi because it's always easier to work bigger with digital stuff and resize it smaller then the other way around :^)

So here's our raw scan, which already looks very decent but when I want to color something I like for everything to be much cleaner/sharper/more contrast-y and to get rid of the noise from the paper texture lmao. A well lit photo will also do the job because that's what I did for many years before getting my scanner but tbh if you're a traditional -> digital artist like myself a scanner is like a best friend you can buy HAHA

First things first, I apply a Gradient Map Layer > New Correction Layer > Gradient Map

Clip has a really nice black and white map preinstalled but I made myself a custom map just by pushing the black and white a little closer, it completely clears up all the noise and makes everything really crisp! Make sure you check on your lines when adjusting things because super fine feather lines can sometimes be lost if you make the contrast too high. Extra tip! If you want to make Graphite Pencil or Ball Point Pen really nice looking as well, just add a dark grey point in the gradient map closer to the black then middle...works perfectly :^)!!

This is the point I look for stray pixels, cat hairs, ect and make sure to erase any surrounding doodles or sketches I don't want included.

GOD DAMN Those lines are CRISP-Y!!!

Next up we're going to want to go Edit > Convert brightness to opacity

Tbh If I didn't have this method idk what I would do with myself.... I've tried the whole "Lineart on top layer set to multiply" Method and ...ehh....

Now that I have a nice transparent line art I'll stick a new white layer down below it because the checker pattern hurts my eyes LOL

I'm going to add a read more here since this post is getting lengthy haha

I'm going to quickly go over the style I use for MTE! It has been refined to be quicker and easier to do since you know...I have a week time limit per page ... 😭 I have a completely different way I do colors for other things I want to spend more time on but I might explain that one in the future...I'm running out of steam tonight LOL

I use this really awesome brush pack that has a pencil like texture and I love it to bits...here's a link to it if your interested!

At this point I might add some overlay layers or play around with an airbrush but I think this guys done for now :^) I tend to stay away from highlights with my shading for MTE..My biggest goal is to make sure everything is clear and readable! That being said I break my own rules all the time for special panels that need the extra 'oomf!'

Slap a lazy square background and yay!! He's done!

Hope this was interesting aaaa Thank you again for the ask!!

[paintbrushnebula]

That Would Be Beautiful

Foreword: SO! This is a Tangled one shot, its a very small part of this Tangled AU that I've had a lot of ideas and concepts and plot stuff accumulated in my notes app and in my sketchbooks for. I've been calling it "Rapunzel: Year One" for fun (I might just keep calling it that for now), since it's supposed to chronicle Rapunzel's first year out of the Tower, navigating her new responsibilities, her new relationships, and what she wants out of life.

This scene is of Rapunzel trying to learn more about Gothel, what she did when she wasn't at the tower, what her life was like. The idea is that Rapunzel's trying to find some way to prove to herself that Gothel could be humanized, that she wasn't "all that bad" or that there was some sort of explanation for why Gothel treated Rapunzel the way she did.

It's very small, just 1k~ words, it's incomplete and there's more to the scene but I just needed to post something for now bc I think my blog has been a tad revealing about my tendency to abandon personal projects and just leave WIPs and never follow up on them and I just didn't want it to seem like I was doing that again

Ive never written Tangled before omg I dont know if I met my ambitions here pls pls pls give me your thoughts or criticisms they are welcome

~

It felt ironic in a way that really depressed Rapunzel, how four weeks and a haircut ago, she had all the time in the world with nothing to really do. Now, there was so much that could be done, with what sometimes felt like no time at all.

This was one of those times. 

Rapunzel’s eyes spent more time looking at the clock on the castle library wall than at the page of her chemistry book. Now time was spilling away quick, and any moment now, the pleasant click clack of Lady Desdemona’s pompadour heels would reverberate off the library walls, a much appreciated warning to hide away her research before her tutor dragged her away to the next lesson.

Rapunzel knew Lady Desdemona probably wouldn’t think much of the stack of chemistry, engineering and geography books and loose folios sprawled about, all populated with equations and notes, as well as a few quick pencil sketches of imagined, cuddly moments between her and her beloved. Y'know, for emotional support.

At least, Rapunzel was sure the governess wouldn’t become privy on what Rapunzel had actually been at the library researching. 

It was weird to be so concerned about what the governess would think if she caught Rapunzel trying to teach herself how to find out how old a cloak was and where it's been, but Desdemona was so invested in Rapunzel’s business. Always asking her questions about what she was doing, and why she was doing it. Always taking a moment during lessons to ask if Rapunzel needed a break. Asking how she felt about a royal event when one was coming up. If it made her stressed, if she wanted to talk about it. Always analyzing her behavior like she was some doctor assigned to study Rapunzel’s mental health. Reporting every symptom, every weird quirk back to her parents. 

Rapunzel made a mental note to read up on Lady Desdemona, to see if she had any history in dealing with people's mental health (Rapunzel remembered reading that that specific profession had a name...psychiatry?). She guessed her parents were sensible to   hire a governess to tutor her in the ways of princesshood, who could also ensure Rapunzel was emotionally well-adjusted to her new life. 

She knew she should feel grateful. They’ve gone through the trouble of finding a teacher who could help Rapunzel properly find her footing. Sheknew it wasn’t fair to be frustrated.

It wouldn’t have made Rapunzel so uncomfortable if this process hadn’t been so revealing about what her parents truly thought of her: that she was a damaged girl who needed serious help.

Maybe I am. 

After 6 days of meticulous research in between Desdemona’s lessons, Rapunzel was feeling pretty confident in her ability to date the sediment she picked out of Gothel’s cloak. It alleviated the nagging apprehension and doubt that'd built up in her stomach to learn that humanity had discovered a way to find out the age of an object. Humans had the power to uncover the stories behind relics of eras so long ago and tell them to the world. It made her all cozy knowing that nothing could ever really be forgotten, because smart people were just that curious. That's amazing.

Mmph, delicious. Science is like food for the mind.

Well, technically that's fish. Also eggs.

Rapunzel just needed a proportional counter to count the carbon, as well an actual microscope to spot any pollen or exotic soils that might trace to any regions beyond Corona's borders. She was lucky to even manage the delicate process of plucking sediment from the cloak’s wool with her old magnifying glass. A gift for her eleventh birthday, a relic from a phase when she took deep interest in the insects that’d cluster at the banisters that stretched from wall to wall high above the tower’s floor. 

One of the few things she took with her before leaving that life behind.

At this point, there was nothing more Rapunzel needed to know to enact her experiment. But she didn't own the proper equipment to enact it. Rapunzel didn't even think about how she'd access that type of equipment. She hasn't met any scientists or engineers yet. 

Where do scientists live? There's gotta be, like, a big fancy lab where they work somewhere in the city, right? She'd ask someone, but she wasn't ready for any follow up questions they might ask. 

She knew it'd be so much easier to just ask her parents for the equipment, but what if they were curious about her activity? 

Rapunzel was just too paranoid about anyone finding out about the cloak. 

She was on her own. 

Suddenly Rapunzel noticed how her finger was seemingly stuck running itself in a lulling circle over the leathery skin of the chemistry book's cover. Tough, coarse, yet so lulling, like the palms of Eugene's hands. It soothed away all the pollutant thoughts, leaving alone one singular thing she wondered about. 

It'd be so easy to close the book, lock the cloak away under her bed and take a nap on Eugene's chest. At this hour he was probably still sleeping. He wouldn't stir if she snuck into his room and plopped face down on his chest and get lost. Forget the cloak. Forget Desdemona. Forget her lessons. Forget being a princess. It sounds so easy. Easy and right. 

It made her weak just thinking about how easy it would be to have peace. 

But there was so much Rapunzel didn’t know, and she’s just so confused. The thrill mixed with dread at there being answers to where it all went wrong, answers she might never know if she didn’t search for them, was stinting her growth into her new life. It was getting in the way of her progress too much. 

If she could get a date from the dirt in that cloak, maybe trace a few places of origin, she could make a historical record of Gothel's earlier life. Before the tower. Find a trail and follow it back to its roots. What she'd lived through. Where she was from. 

Did she have family? 

To be continued...

[cattstarr]

It's a sublingual tablet they started me on this Month. Went to the psyche ward and I made this sketch there on paper, then I colored/lined it in CSP on my Surface.

It was a necessary evil to go to the psyche ward. Not much to unpack really... I have bpd, Bipolar I and "schizophrenic symptoms" which means the psyche ward docs didn't have enough information to diagnose me with it, but saw it's potential. Since I was diagnosed through my regular doc with schizophrenia plus my mom, her dad and my brother have it... yeah. I know it's there. Either way, Saphris is meant to treat bipolar I, II and Schizophrenia. Gives me rls though, but Requip would fix that in a jiffy.

But anyway, I lost my shit Monday night, walked 45 minutes to the ER somehow and checked myself in. Guess I said the magic self-threat while there, cuz they kept me for 72 hours once the 11 hour hold in the ER was done. I guess that's how long it took to place me in psyche.

I actually made the most of my visit, attending all the group therapies and stuff. Cried a lil cuz of who I am emotionally. I was part of the cool kids' clique though, which I always manage to do in psyche wards. They were all awesome people though; staff and patients alike. For what it was, I enjoyed being there and learned a lot about myself. Most importantly, I got my meds adjusted properly. Hopefully. Saphris was working pretty well but I won't know how well for another few weeks yet. I gotta talk to my personal psyche doc in 2 weeks and ask her a little more about it. But I'm thinking it might be time to switch organizations... the hospital I went to has a great psychiatrics department and since they have my records of being in the ER/psychiatric hold now, idk. I like their diagnosis of me the best too. However, idk if I'll be allowed to continue Ritalin/stimulants. The psyche ward doc wasn't trained in adhd treatment, but he did know that stimulants can trigger my other illnesses. Even on things like Saphris. So idk. All my docs have mixed feelings on me taking stimulants... but I can't focus without them. Maybe I should try Strattera... But if it means keeping my personality in check, I guess I could be comfortable forgoing the stimulant. I just want to TRY life with it a little longer right now. When I initially decided to take up this uphill battle of psyche treatment 11 years ago, I didn't care about treating my adhd symptoms. I thought surely, being forgetful and cloudly is the least of my problems. But as I explored, I learned it was more than that. But maybe I've come full circle... idk. Things to discuss in a few weeks...

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

I'm Yours

Pairing: Kirishima x reader

Warnings: There's kissing. A lot of kissing. Just some teenagers being dumb really. No canon characters were harmed in the making of this fic. I didn't include a cheating aspect since I don't write for that kind of stuff, but there's still some jealous!Kirishima here >:3

Author's Note:

Uhhhh I kinda forgot to make this fluffy . . . .

Thanks to uwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwi from Wattpad for requesting! (that's a really fun username hehe)

Enjoy!

-Sugar

══════ ≪ .·:·.♡.·:·. ≫ ══════

══════ ≪ .·:·.♡.·:·. ≫ ══════

Swamped.

That was the only way he could describe it. Kirishima didn’t think he’d ever been so busy, and he wasn’t the only one.

Finals had the entirety of the hero course stressed, especially the second-years like himself. Between training, doing homework, and going to class, there wasn’t exactly room for being social. Any time he was able to hang out with his friends, they were studying together. Nothing he'd really describe as 'fun'. And that’s what had him feeling the worst about all this.

He’d started dating you a few weeks ago—going on three months now, actually. Things had been going well between the two of you. You liked him and he really liked you, so to him, there hadn't been any type of problem.

Even so, there was something a little unique about your relationship: no one knew about it. You yourself were never one for letting others get too involved in your business. And besides, you also knew the nature of most high school relationships. Maybe you’d announce yourselves as a couple and make a big fuss only to grow tired of the other and end it all within the first month. But clearly, that hadn’t happened.

There was a strange thrill to keeping your relationship a secret; a novelty your boyfriend hadn't expected. Though he wasn’t much for dishonesty, Kirishima practically lived for the stolen glances across the classroom you’d share, and the way he’d sneak you behind the school for impromptu makeout sessions with no one ever the wiser. You were his little secret, and he was yours.

Until it had all come to a grinding halt with the extra schoolwork.

He still tried to make time to spend with you in one of your dorm rooms, but the both of you finally had to admit to yourselves that neither of you could get any work or studying done when you were alone together. And so it was back to study groups; holding hands under the table as either Bakugou or Yaoyorozu went over the newest batch of hero laws that needed to be memorized.

God, how he wished this could all be over. Kirishima just wanted things to be normal again. When was the last time he’d even seen you? He could remember watching the back of your head duck out of the classroom at the end of the day, but after? . . . Nothing.

He frowned at the physics worksheet laid before him, mind wandering to thoughts of you as one of his sharp teeth sunk into the eraser at the end of his pencil. Kirishima supposed he should go check on you later, once he’d finished up his assignments for the evening.

…

“Did you see (L/N) yesterday?”

Kirishima’s ears unconsciously perked up at the sound of your name. He stood with his tray in the lunch line directly behind some of his female classmates. They were chatting amongst themselves as they slowly stepped forward. Kirishima wasn’t generally one to listen in on conversations he wasn’t a part of, but now they’d captured his interest. Had one of them seen him sneaking into your room?

“No, I didn’t,” Uraraka said in response to Ashido. “Is she alright?”

“Of course she is,” the pink-haired girl said, rolling her abnormal black and amber eyes as she reached for a clementine. “Actually, she may be doing more than alright.”

Kirishima swallowed. Uh-oh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jirou asked, sounding largely uninterested in gossiping about her fellow classmate.

“Well,” Ashido began, bouncing a little on her toes, “I saw her on the tech floor yesterday and you won’t believe who she was talking to.”

“Who?” Jirou asked dryly, probably hoping to get the discussion over with as quickly as possible.

“Kobayashi Tatsuo. The third year,” Mina announced proudly.

The redhead behind them quietly sighed. Thank goodness. They still didn't know.

“And?” Uraraka questioned.

“They were totally flirting!” Ashido said. “(L/N)’s bagged a cute upperclassman boy! They’ll be dating soon, I just know it! If they aren’t already.” She smugly leveled her shoulders, grinning with an odd look of satisfaction.

What?

“I guess that’s good for her,” Jirou commented, picking up her tray from the lunch bar in order to follow her friends to a table.

“I know, right?” Mina said excitedly as they walked off. “And he’s totally cute too! I wish a hot guy would pay attention to me for once.”

Kirishima watched them leave, almost forgetting to grab lunch for himself after being so absorbed in what they were saying.

The majority of him knew he shouldn’t pay any mind to it. This sort of thing was bound to happen. Of course his peers try to figure out who was involved with who, even if it wasn’t really accurate or from the most credible source. The girls didn’t know that you were already taken by someone else, in fact, the very person behind them in line.

At least now he knew where you’d gone after class yesterday . . . but why? What were you doing on the tech floor? And who was this third year you were talking to?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Kaminari’s voice. Kirishima returned the greeting, sliding into his seat next to his friend. As he settled into the atmosphere of his usual table, he couldn’t help but scan the cafeteria for your face, just as he had done every day, even before you were dating.

But for the first time, his search came up empty. You were nowhere to be seen.

…

Kobayashi wasn’t exactly the person you wanted to be spending your lunch with.

Really, a part of you wondered why you had to skip going to the cafeteria at all today. But then you remembered the stack of work that sat on your desk. It stubbornly refused to ever shrink, no matter what you did. Recently, it felt like as soon as you got one thing done, two more assignments would find their way right back at the bottom. And this was just another one you had to deal with.

While reviewing your materials for your upcoming finals, you’d begun to take note of other heroes’ costumes and support items. Particularly, you’d taken interest in a hero from Ukraine who’d debuted a few decades ago. Your quirk was wildly similar to his and you couldn’t help but further research his techniques, costume, and gadgets that enhanced his abilities.

You weren’t one to copy. Actually, you quite liked the way your current costume functioned and looked, with its own unique style of your own. Even so, you’d read things about him and his quirk that you honestly hadn’t even thought of for yourself, and you’d begun to make a special section in your notebook for improvements to your hero ensemble. Was it the best use of your time? Perhaps not, but you did have a practical exam coming up, and a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if these improvements you were sketching might make all the difference in your performance . . . .

You decided you could use an upgrade. Which is exactly why you went to the second-year in the support course who was in charge of making adjustments to your costume. Until your hopes were immediately dashed when you found out he was sick. Determined, you went to the next best option: Kobayashi.

He was a nice enough boy. Tall, witty, and a whole year older. You hadn’t expected to be spending so much time with him over the past week, but for whatever reason, he kept calling you back to his workspace in the shop for ‘daily check-ins’. At least he was making good progress.

But now you were spending your lunch hour eating with him. It felt strange, being alone in a different classroom with the guy—not an uncomfortable strange, merely “I’m not used to being here”. You’d let him borrow your notebook full of sketches for your costume, and that’s what he was going over with you now.

He’d ask you for clarification on one of your notes before jotting something down of his own right next to your handwriting. He had also been eager to show you his process, explaining the steps of what he was doing while you ate from your bento.

To be honest, it was kind of nice being in a different setting. Kobayashi was fun to listen to; it was clear he was passionate about what he was doing.

But still, he ran out of things to talk about. That was, when it came to your hero suit. Figuring it was too late to go back to the cafeteria anyway, he ate his own lunch with you, striking up a new conversation.

At first, you didn’t pay any mind to it. But then you began to take notice of how close he sat. Then you realized how eager he was to make you laugh, how smoothly the casual chatter flowed between you. And then it struck you just how much he peppered in compliments to you. Finally, it clicked.

Uh-oh.

You refused to meet his gaze when he waved you off after the bell rang. Dashing away, you wondered how serious he might be. Did he actually like you? No, perhaps you were overthinking the situation.

Then again, he had been being awfully nice to you ever since you’d met. But what if that was just how he was? Kaminari could be like that at times, and you knew he didn’t usually mean anything too serious behind it. Or—well—perhaps Denki the Flirt was a bad example for your case. Still . . . how were you supposed to make it clear to Kobayashi that you weren’t interested?

You shook your head to clear it of these thoughts. He hadn’t actually done anything, so what was the point of worrying about it? You were loyal to Eijirou, you knew that. You’d made a commitment to him just as he had to you, and that was all there was to it. No matter what, you’d continue whatever it was you had with him. Kobayashi wasn’t an issue you should be losing sleep over. Besides, you were probably reading too far into things anyway.

Content with the conclusions you’d made, you walked back into your homeroom class for fifth period. Settling into your seat, you faced the chalkboard in front of you, awaiting the return of Aizawa-sensei, unaware of the pair of ruby eyes fixed on your back.

…

Kirishima shot up from his desk the moment he heard a soft knock on his door. As soon as he opened up his room, you came barreling into his arms. “Hey!” he greeted you, reciprocating the hug.

“Study break!” you announced quietly, not wanting to alert his neighbors of your presence.

He tittered happily to himself, leading your bodies back to his desk where he could sit you on his lap in his chair. Settling comfortably on his thighs, you were quick to slot your lips against his. Kirishima melted into your touch.

How many days had it been since he’d last gotten a chance to kiss you? Two? Three? Either way, it had been far too long.

“Shall we take this to the bed?” he joked after a few minutes of kissing.

You chuckled at his harmless allusion. “You know I’m going to fall asleep as soon as I lay down.”

He brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face, concern morphing his features. “Have you been getting enough rest with all this going on?”

“No,” you admitted. “I was up last night with my English flashcards. I swear Present Mic is trying to kill me with this new vocab, it’s like I can’t get it in my head at all.”

“I could help you study it,” your boyfriend offered, his hands resting lightly on your waist.

“That would be productive,” you said sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. “What was it last time? ‘If I get a set right, I’ll get a kiss’ and then next thing I know, we’re making out on your bed for twenty minutes.”

He grinned up at you coyly. “At least I made studying fun.”

“That wasn’t studying!” you protested with a grin. “Speaking of, my timer’s going to go off soon—” you pressed your lips against his for a moment, “—and I want more kisses.”

Kirishima let you have your way with him, threading your fingers through his hair while you savored the taste of his lips. But there was something still nagging at the back of his mind.

“(Y/N)?” he asked when your phone buzzed and you pulled away. “Where were you during lunch today?”

You shrugged, pulling your phone out of your pocket to silence it. “I’m getting improvements on my hero costume. My regular guy got sick so I’m working with this third-year dude.”

“Ohhh.” Kirishima’s worries dissipated almost instantly. “So that’s why you were on the tech floor.”

Confused, you frowned. “Did you see me there or something?”

“Oh, sorry! I just overheard Ashido saying that she saw you down there.” He laughed. “She thought you were flirting with him or something and that you were going to end up dating.”

“Ah, well,” you mumbled, “I wasn’t sure if I should say anything or not but he, um, actually might have been flirting with me.”

Kirishima’s smile dropped, his arms subconsciously squeezing you tighter to him. “What?”

“I only noticed it today—it totally could be nothing—but I think he’s caught feelings? I mean, why else would he ask me to have lunch with him like this? Not to mention how he was smiling at me, and looking at me, and touching my hand—” You bit your tongue, stopping yourself from saying anything else. Maybe this was more serious than you realized.

Your boyfriend was silent, staring at the floor below you with a troubled expression. His ruby eyes traced over the rectangular patterns on his floor, seemingly lost in thought.

“You know that nothing’s going to happen,” you attempted to reassure him, lifting his chin with one of your fingers so he could look into your eyes. “Those feelings aren’t reciprocated and I’m not going anywhere. I’ve already picked you, Eijirou. There’s no one out there like you.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead, sealing your statements, not only to him but to yourself. “We’ll sort this out. If I have to tell Kobayashi I’m taken, then so be it. Maybe keeping our relationship a secret isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be.”

When you pulled back, you noticed that there was still a pout on Eijirou’s face.

“Aw, what is it?” you asked, tucking one of his fallen sticky spikes back under his bandana.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, pulling you even closer to him.

“Talk to me, baby.” You ran a hand down his back.

“I don’t like the thought of him being around you,” he confessed into your shoulder. “I . . . don’t want him smiling at you like that, or touching you, or letting people think that you belong with him. You’re . . . mine.” He paused before laughing dryly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. That sounded . . . totally selfish of me and probably not very manly at all—”

“No,” you said simply. “It’s actually kinda hot.”

He pulled back to look at you, perhaps to see if you were joking. Your expression was intrigued, maybe a little flustered. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “I . . . like when you call me yours. It’s cute. And besides, it’s okay that you feel that way. Feelings don’t have to make sense. I'm frustrated about this too.” Pecking his lips a final few times, you regretfully stood from his chair. “I wish there was something more I could do right now, but I should get going. I promised Tsu and Uraraka I’d meet up with them. We can talk about this later.”

“See you, (Y/N),” Kirishima said.

You smiled and waved, turning to the door and checking to see if anyone was in the hall before slipping back out. Kirishima watched you go, wondering what he should do.

Kirishima hadn’t even met the guy and he already hated him. Sure, Kobayashi wasn’t aware you were taken, and he had every right to show interest in you, but that was supposed to be Eijirou. It was Kirishima’s job to flirt with you and be there for you and sweep you off your feet. Your classmates should be shipping you with him, not this random guy from another year.

The redhead sighed. He shouldn’t let himself get so caught up in this. He knew you were capable of sorting this out on your own, and if you really needed him, Kirishima would help you. He couldn’t start getting whiny like some kind of child.

Besides, your friends could think whatever they wanted. It couldn’t affect your relationship. They were just high school kids. They didn’t even know what they were talking about.

Despite the fact he was trying to get back into focusing on his work, Kirishima’s mind couldn’t help but wander. Maybe once exams were over you could finally announce that the two of you were together. Then you wouldn’t have to sneak around so much anymore. He could hug you whenever he wanted, and you could sit on his lap during movie night. He’d be able to kiss you in front of his friends, no problem. Maybe, just to see the look on his face, he’d kiss you in front of—

No, no. Japanese Literature. That was what he was supposed to be thinking about right now. The sooner he finished his work, the sooner he’d be able to see you again.

…

Finally it was Saturday afternoon, and you knew you had an entire day to take things a little easier tomorrow. Maybe you’d even try to take the evening off and spend some time with your boyfriend. But of course, you had to meet with Kobayashi about your hero costume first. Hopefully it would be quick, and perhaps even the last time.

You walked down to the tech floor, heading straight for the workshop. You needed your suit for the practical exam next week, so you hoped he was ready for you.

Peeking into the room, you spotted him putting something into a very familiar case.

“Oh, are you finished?” you asked, walking in.

“Yeah,” he said brightly. “You’re all set, (L/N).”

“Thanks,” you said.

“Here,” he popped the little box open, showing off the finalized improvements he’d done and the changes he’d made that you’d spoken about together. He walked you through everything and you listened politely, asking the occasional question. Even with the newfound bitter taste in your mouth at being around him, you had to admit he'd done a spectacular job.

“That should be everything,” you said, ready to go. “Thanks for working with me.”

“No problem.”

Satisfied, you began to walk away.

“Wait, (L/N).”

Apprehensive, you stopped, turning back to him. “Yeah?”

“I was just wondering,” he began, bashful, “if you’d like to grab lunch with me sometime.”

You frowned, apologetic. “I can’t, Kobayashi senpai.”

“Why not?” He looked hurt.

You winced. “I’m already involved with someone else.”

“You’re just ‘involved’?” he asked dubiously, the expression on his face changing. “Please give me a chance. I can see that you feel something for me too. Whoever you’re with, I could be better.”

“I’m not interested,” you said firmly, any momentary sympathy you might have felt evaporating. “Goodbye, Kobayashi.”

He let you go, watching as you walked stiffly out of the classroom. As soon as you rounded the doorway, you felt something grab you. Gasping, you startled, but you were quick to register a familiar head of red hair. You saw Kirishima put a finger to his lips, pulling you further down the hall and towards the empty stairwell for some privacy.

He pushed you up against a blue-gray wall, grinning at you with hooded eyes.

“Eiji, what—?”

“I heard the whole thing,” he murmured, leaning in and capturing your lips for a quick kiss. “I thought that guy might make a move on you so I followed you down here. You held your own.” He kissed you again; this one longer, his tongue sneaking its way into your mouth. “You’re really mine, aren’t you?” he murmured against your lips, a stubborn trace of hesitancy still present and quavering in his voice.

“Of course I am, Eiji,” you whispered, touching your forehead to his. “I’m yours.”

He surged against you again, kissing you hungrily and pinning you even harder against the solid surface behind you.

You gasped against his force, eyebrows drawing together as you struggled to keep up. “Ei—” you tried. “Not here, let’s go someplace else.”

“Who cares?” he murmured, uninterested in stopping.

“Me. I don’t want to get caught by a teacher or a random fifteen-year-old. We could get in trouble.”

Kirishima sighed, finally drawing back for a moment to meet your eyes. “Okay, fine. But we’re going straight to my room, right?”

You snorted. “Where else do you think I want to be?”

He smirked, taking your hand again. “Good answer.”

Kirishima briskly walked you back to the dorms, his hand migrating ever lower down your back. It wasn’t long before he was sitting you on his lap in his bed, mouth once again connecting with yours right where it belonged.

You weren’t sure he’d ever kissed you like this before, in all the time you’d been together. His passion blazed before you, unrelenting as your teeth and tongues crashed together. He nipped at your lips until they flushed and swelled, and you knew they’d be noticeably bruised by morning but neither of you stopped. He kept going, trailing more kisses from the corner of your mouth, to your jaw, and all the way down your neck only to return right back to your parted lips whispering his name.

Kirishima’s room had never felt so hot and stuffy, even as he pulled off his uniform jacket and helped you out of yours. His cheeks burned red as his eyes, so caught up in what he was doing, the only thoughts his mind was still capable of having were simply You.

It went by in a haze. He wasn’t sure when exactly he’d lowered you onto his pillow, or how long he’d been hovering over you and caging you in with his arms as he cherished you.

But he knew one thing. His love for you wasn’t something he could hide anymore. No, he’d never let anyone think they stood a chance with you again while he was around.

One day soon, he would kiss you good morning at breakfast. One day, you’d hold hands in the halls on the way to class. One day, he’d pull you in close after school, slinging an arm around your hips just so he always knew you were there at his side.

But he was happy to be here with you now. He was happy to be your secret. He was happy, even as his kisses began to soften and slow, content with the way your body melded against his as he laid himself at your side and hugged you closer. All that mattered was that you were here with him now, and he was yours.

And you were his.

══════ ≪ .·:·.♡.·:·. ≫ ══════

Taglist: @aahilovetheatre @basicalyrandom @bumbyslair @f0leysgurl @hyunmin-1404 @kqtsukii @nabo39 @pyrofanatic​ @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars @sendhelpimstupid @ure-a-sunflower @xoxopam4​