#piece of cat-eye glass with an explanation of how to use it as a linking stone

[ei-len]

Reblog with what you'd put in a Beginner Kit designed after your own personalized practice, so others could try casting like you do.

[victuurifanartandfanfiction]

Painting Restoration AU (2)

Chapter One: Encounter on a Lovely Day

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Victor came home from a fateful encounter with whom he believes is his soulmate. Now all he needs to do is figure out his next step, and it begins with a phone call.

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Victor slipped his phone back into his pocket and drank the last bit of coffee that was still in his cup. He threw the empty coffee cup into a public trashcan before continuing to daydream about the mysterious paint restorer. On the way back to his house, he couldn’t stop thinking about Yuuri. Everything about him infatuated Victor. He couldn’t quite explain it, it was just something about him that made his heart race.

“Did you see him, Makkachin?” Victor yelled excitedly, “He was so charming and handsome…” Makkachin just continued to walk, a little bit more bounce in her steps than before. Victor lifted the hand with her leash in it up to his cheek.

“Do you think he noticed me?” Victor asked exasperated. He slid his hand down his cheek. If there was one thing he couldn’t get out of his mind: it would have to be Yuuri’s eyes. Sure, some could argue that they were plain, but Victor saw an exhilarating life in them. A whole new adventure he was just itching to explore.

He would love to look into those eyes once more.

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Before Victor knew it, he was back at the stairs of his house.

He and Makkachin stepped in, Victor almost slamming the door behind them. He unhooked her leash and returned it to its keeping place. Afterward, he opened one of the cabinets and revealed a beautiful magenta vase with golden highlights. He placed it onto his dining table before preparing the flowers to put in them.

Victor cut the lower leaves off of the roses as well as the bottom of the stems. He filled the vase with warm water, adding a bit of vinegar to the water (<-it) as well. Victor placed the flowers into the vase, delicately arranging them into a beautiful display.

As Victor admired the flowers, he couldn’t help but wish Yuuri was there to admire them with him. Such a serene sunset to end such an exquisite day, A beautiful scene, that he would be witnessing alone.

Or so he believed.

Victor’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He lifted it out and was met with Chris’ face. He quickly answered the call and sat down at his dining table.

“Hello, Chri-”

“Tell me all about this ‘love’ of yours! No keeping anything from me either, Victor! I want all of the details! All of them!”

“Okay, okay! So, I was walking down the street with Makkachin, but then she saw a squirrel! I tried to stop her from running but I couldn’t do anything but do my best to keep up with her!”

“Oh, romantic! Keep going!”

“When she finally stopped, these two men came out of the paint restoration shop! This guy with blue glasses, brown eyes, and black hair caught my eye. I looked at him and we made eye contact.”

“This is so exciting! What happened next!”

“Well, then he rushed back into the store.’

“What do you mean? That’s all?” Chris yelled into the phone. Victor didn’t realize how silly it sounded when he said it aloud. Sure, they didn’t speak much. Well, they didn’t speak at all, but he knew in his heart that Yuuri was the one for him.

“I know, it sounds ridiculous, but just trust me! Something about him just set my heart on fire!”

Victor could almost hear Chris thinking through the phone. Victor tapped his finger on the table, nervous about what his friend was going to say.

“Well, to put it simply, you are definitely in love. No other explanation for your feelings,” Chris said and Victor nodded., “The two of you have to meet up, but this time, not just eye contact.” Victor looked around his room for ideas. He could take Makkachin for another walk, but how would that lead to some conversation?

“I’ve got it!” Victor exclaimed, “I’ll bring Yuuri some of the paintings I don’t want to sell for restoration work!” He had already gotten up and began fumbling through some of his paintings and finding the ones that could use some work done. Finally, he came across one of his favorite pieces, Stammi Viccino.

It was one of his favorites because it was painted by two artists. One artist painted with a light magenta while the other painted with a dark blue. The colors and brush strokes worked together in perfect harmony, a perfect contrast. Whenever he looked at the two people slow dancing together in the painting, Victor got a warm feeling in his heart. He grabbed the painting and set it on the table before sitting down again.

Everything about Stammi Viccino infatuated Victor, and he was hoping this piece was enough to catch Yuuri’s attention.

“Oh my gosh, that’s a perfect idea!” Chris’s enthusiasm was evident, “Well, I have to go. Time to feed the cat. Good luck! You better tell me what happens!”

Victor laughed, “I’ll keep you updated! Bye!” He pressed the end call button before staring intently at the painting in front of him. All he had to do was walk to the shop and ask for an estimate. Simple enough, right?

Victor sighed and buried his face into his arms on the table. Makkachin pushed herself under him, looking up at him. He patted her head and stood up.

“You’re right, it is dinner time,” he smiled before opening food for her and setting it into her bowl. Victor walked over to his refrigerator. There was too much on his mind for him to cook, so he settled on leftover pasta.

He sat at the table with his now microwaved meal, daydreaming about how his meeting with Yuuri was going to go. He formulated a plan, one to capture Yuuri’s attention and curiosity. Victor decided he was going to get his painting restored, stay and watch Yuuri work, and get to know him better.

Poking at his pasta, Victor sighed. He was too nervous and excited to have an appetite.

“Oh, Yuuri,” he sighed, “If only you understood how you make me feel, maybe you wouldn’t be able to eat either.” Victor snapped the lid back onto his pasta and placed it back in the fridge before leaving to bed. He laid down on his bed, staring up at his ceiling before slowly drifting off to sleep.

He was about to find out that not all things go according to plan, no matter how long or detailed said plan is.

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!!!THIS IS A WIP. IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN FOLLOWING THIS WORK, DON’T FORGET TO BOOKMARK THIS PIECE, SUBSCRIBE, ETC.!!! 

Here's chapter two! I hope you all enjoyed it! I would love to hear any and all thoughts in the comments below!

Special thanks to @artist-from-outersp-ace for editing and reviewing this AU! You can follow them on Tumblr for some stunning art!

Thank you to @/JenniS on AO3 for some inspiration and motivation for this chapter. I would also like to thank everyone who has been leaving comments, I appreciate them beyond words. Thank you for your support. ♡♡♡ Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like, reblog, and/or a comment below! I love reading them ♡♡♡! 

Permission to continue this AU was given by@doki-dolly​. Any constructive criticism is always welcome in the comments! I hope you enjoyed this piece. Thank you so much for reading! ~♡

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♡ Tag List ♡ 

@thatchaoticneutraltrainwreck​, @likeapaperplane​ @yellowsaphire​, @jellyfishbeansandsotherthings​ @i-need-blog-ideas​, @hp-polaroid1985​, @doki-dolly​

If you would like to be apart of it, leave me an ask (not anonymous, send asks TWICE) or leave a message in my personal inbox! Specify its the Paint Restoration AU (PRAU)!

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[dogcopter]

Rose Quartz is Melon Mutt

and Lion (but only sometimes!) theory. I know this is an ancient one that is generally disregarded at this point, but please suspend your disbelief for a few minutes and entertain the thought, have some fun with me. After all, it’d be really funny if they revealed Rose a third time.

This stuff can probably be explained by some kind of magical connection to Steven’s gem. However, his actions can also be explained by Lion sometimes just being a lion and sometimes having Rose Quartz in his brain, no additional magic required. And I think that makes him the Melon Mutts too. 

Spoilers for all of Steven Universe and the movie!

In “Escapism”, the melon dog sees Steven off on his makeshift raft with a worried expression.

Lion shows up to save him after being battered on the open ocean, knowing he’s Steven, and brings him back to the Temple to relay his message.

Bear with me question: What if Lion knows where Steven is and is searching for him on the ocean right now, because whoever is in Lion was just in the dog that saw which way he was headed?

We know that Steven can astral project, and that he has occupied other organic bodies like the Watermelon Stevens. He even controlled Lars’s body before he’d ever magically revived him.

We know that there’s some kind of distinction between the “soul” or consciousness and the body, in Steven’s astral plane powers. 

We also know that the person can be represented by their projected body, organic body, and/or their gemstone (but the person doesn’t appear to be present if they’ve retreated into the gemstone to heal.) Could Rose be piloting another body without her gem or body? Maybe so.

We know Steven has the ability to leave his own body and communicate with other people this way through direct contact and across great distances in psychic ghost land and/or dreams, including both humans and gems. He even talked to Lapis in his dream while she was part of a fusion.

So we know that psychic ghost powers exist, and we know someone who has the Pink Diamond gem who can use them. We also know the manifestation of gems’ body can be altered through choice, or damaged through both physical trauma to the gemstone and mental trauma to the person. We know even shattered and corrupted gems retain some measure of their original personality and Clusters can be formed. 

There are things we don’t know about the real nature of the gemstone/personality relationship, but it’s clear a Gem is more than their gem. We know that Steven also, for example, doesn’t need a gemstone within Watermelon Steven’s body to continue to be “Steven”. 

This post doesn’t have an explanation for Steven’s Rose/PD dreams, but I don’t want to guess about Gem mechanics, this theory is strictly based on the hypothesis that Lion’s actions make the most sense if Lion is Rose.

And we know one other thing! A change in body is usually accompanied by a change in consciousness, at least for Steven. He needs to fall asleep to leave his body, and when it’s time to return, he wakes up. So piece 1: Steven’s Psychic Ghost Powers Are Real, Body Swapping Is Real. Lion being a body swap is in the Pink Diamond moveset.

- But why wouldn’t Rose have told him if she’s Lion by NOW?

Rose Quartz, the character defined by running away from her problems? I’m gonna say this is still plausible in the magical world where this theory is true. I actually think it’s more likely that RQ faked her death twice than that RQ trusted a lion and/or additional accomplices with some of her most closely guarded secrets. But don’t take my word for it, keep looking at the screencaps.

- But Steven we can’t both exist I’m going to become half of you?

Gems use “physical form” to mean their projected light body, but technically, their gem is their physical form. What if Rose gave up her physical form - her gemstone and body - but her psychic ghost (or part of it) is still dickin around somewhere? She also says in Nora’s version of the tape, “We can’t both exist but I won’t be gone”. The message of Lion 4 is that Steven is just supposed to be Steven, but imagine the speculation if that line had been in Steven’s video way back when.

This all establishes that astral projection is real, Rose would have had access to it during her time with Steven’s gem at a minimum, and it could explain the possibility of the same consciousness inhabiting both Lion around Steven and Melon Mutt around Watermelon Steven - particularly if the Rose ghost is linked to his gem or ghost in some way. 

And rule of Crewniverse And Emotional Torment: the thing that sounds really frustrating and narratively terrible has often ended up being executed in an awesome, Steven-appropriate way. We love a reveal that retroactively makes the entire series more upsetting. 

But back to the first question.

-What about all the other times Lion has found Steven on his own?

Well, what if they can also be explained either by Lion being Rose, or Lion having seen where Steven went?

In “Steven’s Lion”, Lion is first shown under Steven’s shirt. 

This is how he spots Steven and recognizes who he is, because his gem is exposed. (Rose’s gem is also under Steven’s shirt.) 

Hypothesis: Lion (Rose in Lion’s body) was also hunting the Desert Glass, and his meeting with Steven was by chance. Upon spotting the Pink Diamond gem, he came to Steven.

So question 1: Why did Lion know who Steven is? I think Rose recognized the gem, obviously, and would understand this is Steven.

This can be explained by magical connection as easily as by the Rose idea, even though we know now that Steven doesn’t have a magical destiny (Lion 4) and Lars doesn’t have a sixth sense for locating Steven in his moveset (Jungle Moon). Gems repeatedly recognize Steven as Rose or Pink based on his gem so it’s possible Lion knows to do the same.

We saw in Buddy’s Book that the lions were already pretty tame even when not-pink. We see Lion’s nose only, before the shot changes to Rose, but the other lions are gentle with Buddy. Lion’s tame behavior when acting as a normal lion is in-character for Rose’s lions.

Timeline recap: we know a couple of centuries ago, Rose had alive tame lions. At some point Lion died and was revived by her healing tears, but remained a secret from the other Gems, including Pearl, who is the only person we know of who knew about Pink Diamond. Rose later met Greg and was with him until they had Steven. At some point after meeting Greg, she put objects inside Lion’s mane. There is a VHS tape addressed to Steven in the mane dimension, while the Nora tape was abandoned in the desert, indicating that he was likely meant to find that stuff.

Remember what we just established about Steven’s body swaps being linked to a change in consciousness? What better character to mask body swapping sleep with regular sleep than a cat?

Lion finds Steven and his eyes are glowing. 

We know that Lion’s eyes and mane sometimes glow when using his powers, like making wormhole warps or summoning objects from his pocket dimension. Sometimes his eyes just seem to glow for no reason, but what if they can also indicate a body swap taking place?

As soon as he catches up to Steven, Lion immediately falls asleep. 

...and then acts like a totally normal very tame lion while Steven cuddles all over him.

Then when the Gems show up, Lion’s eyes are glowing again. 

After this, he watches Steven and the Gems leave, looking alert, and shows up at the Temple to break things. Lion doesn’t always appear to switch bodies onscreen, but another time this happens is in “It Could’ve Been Great” when Steven is begging for a ride to the moon.

“No more Earth, no more naps...” Lion is napping, then suddenly stands up and roars. His eyes glow, then he teleports them all to the Moon.

Back in Steven’s Lion, here’s the Second Finding Of Steven to support my point.

Lion shows up to find Steven and finish beating the Desert Glass.There’s about a five-hour time difference between the Delmarva area and the Sahara IRL, so it could be noon or early afternoon in the desert at the same time that it’s early morning in Beach City, and Lion seems to show up pretty quickly.

How did Lion know who the Gems were? How did he know where to go?

Here’s a rundown of things we know about Lion and the Crystal Gems and Rose, that explain this scene based on knowledge and not mysterious magic powers.

The Temple is where Rose used to live.

And where the Crystal Gems and Steven still live.

When they are hunting a corrupted gem like the Desert Glass, they return to put it in a bubble here, or bubble it and send remotely.

Lion can make wormholes to travel across great distances quickly.

If he goes too far it tires him out, even by endgame in the series.

He can run very far without growing tired, but has to travel in realtime.

Lion had to travel across continents to get to the Temple.

Lion did not use our warp pad to get to the Temple, because he arrives outside the door.

Lion is energetic enough for this and a battle, which could mean he warped straight there.

It’s unlikely Lion had met the Gems personally before because the Gems didn’t know Rose had a lion and didn’t know the Lion was Rose’s until Steven confirms it later, even if it was “kinda obvious” per Amethyst. (Connie is actually the team member who has seen the most of Lion, and she doesn’t have preexisting Gem knowledge)

By the same logic, it’s unlikely but not impossible that Lion had ever been to the Temple himself before, as well.

The Gems don’t have Rose’s gem, so Lion wouldn’t have recognized them the same way he recognized Steven if it’s a Rose-magic-connection thing.

Rose would know who the gems are, where they took the Desert Glass that Lion was hunting, and she’s one of the few people who would even know Amethyst, let alone well enough to predict her slacking off on the bubbling job! Warping straight there matches the available facts about Lion’s abilities.

Sidenote to Lion Finding Steven: Lion also found Pearl in Rose’s Scabbard, and kept pace with her as she headed to a place special to Rose and Pearl. We’ll come back to this episode in a sec.

Remember, this initial bit is to establish that there’s a logical explanation for Lion finding Steven at other times, therefore lending credence to the idea that the Watermelon rescue was based on knowledge shown onscreen (dog seeing Steven leave) and not a one-off magical GPS. 

Here are the other Lion Finds Stevens that I found:

In “So Many Birthdays”, Lion is shown dozing off at Steven’s party. The party location shown in the beginning is the cliff overlooking Beach City, from where Lion would be able to see Steven on the beach when he woke up.

Lion shows up later that evening to save old!Steven on the beach and drag him to the Gems. Then he stays by Steven’s side. 

In “The Return”, Lion comes to get Steven and bring him back to protect the Gems with his shield. 

Lion only shows up after Steven has popped out of the car in a bubble, and all his neighbors stop the evac caravan to check if he’s OK. If Lion were looking for Steven via non-magical means, he could easily locate the commotion from any Beach City vantage point as they’re in the valley right now.

After the events in Jailbreak when they crash back down, Lion comes running straight onto the beach searching for where Steven’s bubble landed and uncovers the gang. 

Lion fought during Mirror Gem/Ocean Gem, but doesn’t fight Jasper in The Return. Couldn’t there be a reason he stayed out of sight when Homeworld gems showed up but came out of hiding to find them after the events on the ship happened?

Interestingly, despite Lion having run beside Greg’s car during the Lapis episodes and being shown around Greg before, in Full Disclosure Lion hears Greg’s van coming and immediately peaces out. Maybe Lion feels bad about showing up to grab the kid and then almost getting him sent to jail on Homeworld?

(Ronaldo voice) Rose Quartz, running away from the consequences of your actions yet again I see????

Either way, this can be explained by Lion seeing things from an ordinary Beach City vantage point. So an explanation is present when Lion finds Steven. Which also explains the times Steven is lost/in danger and Lion doesn’t show up to save the day.

Next part: In Steven’s Lion a big part of my argument is that Lion returns to the Temple because he knows things only Rose would know, not just because he can follow where Steven warped.

When does Lion know things only Rose would know?

Exhibit A: “Lion 2: The Movie”

Connie shows off some overhand deathstrike and Lion, uncharacteristically chatty this episode, says, “You need a real sword, am I right?”

Lion talks to characters repeatedly. He behaves like a normal cat most of the time, but on a few occasions he actually tries to respond verbally to someone talking to him with a kind of meow. We saw it in Steven’s Lion as well. Lion is obviously sentient with a will of his own and the ability to understand language, even though he doesn’t always respond. I think the super catlike behavior can be explained by body swapping as well as Rose picking up instincts from her nothlit body.

In “Lion 2″ we see Lion responding to speech again. Steven says he and Lion are both untrained, so Lion brings the kids on a field trip to get weapons and training. 

Obvious belated notes: Heart shaped face, star shaped mane like Pink/Steven/Rose, color scheme, Rose had a sword, Rose loved humans and swords, Lion is Rose’s size, Lion’s themes involve Rose’s theme.

More talking. “Nyurry up”

“Come on Steven. Push the button.” 

Then he takes a nap! and the kids get beat up by the training program. When he wakes, Steven asks for help. Lion judges Steven for running after asking for this training, but assents.

...Only to conveniently leave the wormhole open long enough for the robot to show up and the kids to HAVE to finish their training.

This is when they receive Rose’s sword. Lion appears to be able to summon objects from his mane. (Later, Steven claims Lion can’t get to things stored in his mane, but he might just be wrong.)

Interesting that Lion summons the sword through his forehead in this Utenatastic shot, which mimics the position Rose would have drawn a sword out of Pearl.

Note that Lion does hang by and look out for them right up until it’s clear they’re going to win.

We find out in Rose’s Scabbard that Rose’s Armory was another secret that Pearl thought only she and Rose were in on. It’s also in a location far from the desert that Pearl had to freeclimb a million miles to get to. The movie theater is in Beach City. 

Lion can warp to these places, but unless he has Rose’s knowledge, would he know where to go? 

Exhibit B: Speaking of “Rose’s Scabbard”.

In this episode, Lion’s not happy about the battlefield. Garnet and Pearl are telling war stories, but he busies himself with digging up Rose’s scabbard after Pearl suggests Steven find something he like. 

Pearl and Lion are pretty antagonistic in this episode too. We know how Pearl feels. Under the assumption that Lion is Rose, I think Lion grouching at Pearl could be interpreted as friendly as well as “Please move on.” Notice also that Lion, who hardly interacts with the others and was surprised by a hug from Amethyst in “Ocean Gem”, watches Pearl intently in this episode and tries to talk to her twice. Despite the fakeout at the beginning while he searches for the scabbard, this his Lion’s least catlike episode by far.

The scene where Pearl knocks down the painting goes without saying. I think the Rose parallels are also echoed in the end when Steven and Lion chase her down, I think we’re supposed to read some of Steven’s dialogue as an echo of past times Pearl was upset and Rose handled it the same way.

Steven: Pearl! Did I... did I do something wrong? You got to tell me!

Steven: Pearl! Pearl, you have to tell me what's wrong. Pearl: Sometimes, you even sound like her... 

We even get a rare glimpse of Pearl’s pent up anger toward Rose as she holds her sword.

Here’s what we have seen onscreen: So far Pearl has treated Lion as a slightly annoying animal that she tolerates for Steven’s sake. They hadn’t met before Lion found Steven. Their interactions in this episode are antagonistic up to the point where Pearl runs off.

Lion contradicts or ignores Steven sometimes, but this time they both take action immediately. Steven asks if he knows where Pearl went, and Lion responds in the affirmative. This is another example of Lion Finding People Because He Knows Where To Look (Because He’s Rose.) 

Do you remember this place? Do you have any of her memories? We were right here, over 5,000 years ago.

They chase Pearl to the place where Rose and Pearl decided to stay on Earth and fight. Somewhere Pearl expects Rose to remember. The choice Lion and Steven both make to chase her down and demand answers reminds Pearl of Rose. 

If Lion is Rose, it explains his motivation for helping Steven/Pearl despite not seeming to know or like Pearl very well, his knowledge of where Pearl will be, and the fact that Lion and Steven both reacted the same way Pearl expected Rose to.

Lion Knows Rose Things Exhibit C: Lion 3: Straight to Video

Steven wants to know more about his mom and Lion keeps pushing him into his mane in response. We see some treasures in there.

Some stuff from the war, some Greg related stuff, THE CHEST!! and Steven’s tape.

Consider this seriously for a moment: How did Steven’s tape get here? 

We do see Lion manifest the sword for Steven and Connie, which we know is a physical object created by Bismuth and not a hard light construction, we see it here in the mane. We also see Lion cough up the key to Rose’s storage unit later, where Steven finds the Nora tape. In theory he would know how to put things in his mane, and we’ve seen him take things out. 

We also know these things, continuing from assumptions in Steven’s Lion:

The gems didn’t know about Lion.

Lion had to be dead before his mane could be accessed, so Rose would have stored these things elsewhere as early as ~200years ago per Buddy’s book.

Rose would have placed the Greg items in Lion after meeting Greg, chronologically.

Greg and Rose made two tapes because they didn’t know Steven’s sex.

Only Steven (Or more likely, Pink Diamond gem holder) can enter this dimension, although he can take others with him.

Steven’s sex wouldn’t have been apparent until after Rose was gone.

The other tape is in the desert in Rose’s landfill.

The lion is from the desert.

The landfill is framed by Pink’s ship.

Steven doesn’t recognize the ship in Lion 4 or “Legs From Here To Homeworld”, but to the gems it is immediate and obvious what’s buried there.

So who moved the Steven tape into the mane and left the Nora tape in the desert after Rose gave up her physical form?

If Lion can put things in his own mane, and Lion is Rose, we have an answer. An accomplice is unlikely, given that only Steven can open Lion’s mane, and any gem who saw her possessions at the landfill could put the pieces together that Rose and Pink Diamond are the same. The Landfill clearly belongs to Pink Diamond and the objects in Lion clearly belong to Rose Quartz.

Pearl is the only Gem we know of who knows about the secret, because she started it, and Rose wouldn’t even allow her to speak of it after they staged the shattering. Rose didn’t even tell Greg about her past (which he respected). She didn’t tell the Gems about Bismuth, and Bismuth is in the mane. Any Crystal Gem would know Bismuth and know one of Rose’s secrets, so the likelihood of a secret gem collaborator who both survived the war and helped Rose cover up Bismuth’s bubbling is basically nil. 

Given the timeline and Rose’s secrets, especially given her secrets from Pearl who otherwise knows the most Rose lore and spent the most time with her, it makes very little sense for someone else to be involved but a whole lot of sense for Rose to be Lion. Lion could have moved Steven’s tape into the mane after meeting Steven.

Sidebar: THE MOON

Isn’t it convenient that the being who can teleport them to the moon is so tired out by the trip that he’s then unconscious during the plotty Diamond reveals and we don’t see his reaction to anything?

Again, Lion didn’t know the Gems and wasn’t known to them pre Steven. But when he takes the gang to the moon, he heads straight for the moon base, which Rose would have been to before - another location previously visited only by Rose and Pearl that we know of. Amethyst has to open the door and check - “YUP, WE ON THE MOON!” 

But we do get a shot of him with the Pink Diamond portrait in “Can’t Go Back”; a shot of PD’s mural pans down to Lion facing away from the camera as Steven initiates a cliffhanger.

As we all know, after this, Steven slips into Pearl’s memories and sees everything.

Which leads me to:

The thing about Rose’s portrait and Lion. (and that one (1) pic of Pink Diamond)

I think I’ve made clear why Rose = Lion seems plasuible in terms of mechanics and Lion’s behavior. Now for a couple thematic notes.

I’m just gonna dump some more screencaps for this one. Basically, we never see Lion’s face and Rose’s in the same shot. The only exceptions are panning shots that still don’t have both in the frame. And sometimes this happens while Steven is talking about his mom, or other people are.

I remember people speculating about the meaning of hiding Rose’s face. I was looking for Lion things on this rewatch, so I didn’t look closely at the painting, focusing more on character, but I don’t think Rose’s face being covered has to exclusively mean one thing; there may be other instances where it’s symbolic to the scene and unrelated to Lion. However, Lion is the only character for which this seems to be a hard rule.

Sometimes Lion is just being a goofy cat while Rose’s portrait hovers in the background, static, serene, complete.

This one pans down from Steven looking at Rose, to Lion looking back at Steven, much like the PD shot on the moon base.

(Lion, Steven and Bismuth waiting to see how the CGs will react to Bismuth appearing)

Ok, that’s a thing, and we know the art and story go hand in hand in this show. Moving on, just a few last thoughts. 

Lion eavesdropping awake and asleep, & angst potential

The thing about a character that’s always napping in the background is, sometimes maybe they’re awake? And if a change in consciousness can trigger the body swap, which crucial conversations has Lion been present to overhear? Certainly not many of Steven’s complicated feelings about his mom? Wouldn’t that be a great long road to retroactively torture us all?

In “An Indirect Kiss”, Lion is dozing while Steven complains about not having the healing powers he already has - Lion’s annoyed with Steven’s moon in the beginning. While Steven tells his story, Lion’s tail is moving and at the end he opens an eye. 

It's just... I mean, I don't know how to feel about you, but everyone else does. I wish I could have met you then this place would make me sad, and I could cry healing tears, like you.

So Lion probably heard the part that made Connie cry, when Steven is laying in statue Rose’s lap and lamenting how little he knows about her. We also discover later that Lion was revived by healing tears.

In “Nightmare Hospital”, Lion is awake to witness Steven hugging his mom’s sword while Connie hugs her mom. I invoke rule of Crewniverse emotionally devastating everyone in Steven Universe.

In “Ocean Gem”, Lion’s there for Pearl’s explanation of corrupted gems to Steven.

He’s present for the convo at the beginning of “The Test” about Steven learning the Sea Spire mission was a setup.

He’s there when Steven and Amethyst catch Pearl tricking Garnet into fusion.

And when Peridot is learning to love the Earth and accept things that don’t make sense.

He’s also hanging out with Connie at Kevin’s party and is there to hear Steven and Connie talk through their conflict.

Lion could still just be a lion that happens to know things only Rose would know but I choose to believe there’s somethin’ going on. 

Finally, in the Tale of Steven intro to the movie, Lion is a Rose.

This brings us to the final question, which was also the first question:

Why why why would Rose not just come clean? 

The simplest explanation is yeah, Rose still hasn’t learned to stop running and hiding. I have a theory below because it seems to line up, but I am pretty convinced that Lion is Rose. I know we’ll enjoy Steven Universe: Future regardless of what they’ve done but I just think it makes sense.

TL;DR: We know there are psychic ghost abilities and astral projection can be triggered or ended by sleep and that someone can be in someone else’s body in a non-fusion way. Lion sleeps a lot and occasionally seems to know things only Rose could have known. If Lion isn’t Rose, it doesn’t track with Rose’s secretive behavior. Lion is Rose.

SPECULATION from here on.

I’m inclined to believe we’ll find out Pink was responsible for the damage to Pink Pearl’s eye, maybe due to giving an illogical order-

-Or lashing out in anger?

We would finally understand the first choice Rose made that changed her, like what A Single Pale Rose did for Pearl. And if she had a core trauma unresolved it could explain why she kept hiding from the past. We’ve seen something similar with Lapis.

And what do you know, before Steven Universe wrapped, Lion got an adorable little one-eyed companion!

Rose genuinely being gone forever is a choice I like also, but to me, there’s too much about Lion that’s explained this way that is more satisfying than just “he’s magic and knew rose offscreen”

To cite another conspiracy theory, maybe this could be how Steven emotionally self-corrupts, if that’s a thing. I’m not attached to that one but this could trigger it. What could possibly be more upsetting than this? What could force him to deal with his own problems?

RECAP

Lion’s actions make sense if he’s Rose more than another explanation because 

He has only warped to places Rose would know about

A number of which only Rose and Pearl know about, canonically

Rose’s big secret identity is compromised if anyone interacts with Lion. In fact Lion basically holds all of her secrets?

He gave a shit about Pearl’s feelings in Rose’s Scabbard despite Lion not knowing her

VHS tape conundrum

We know Steven can body swap without bringing his Gem along

Connie, a HUMAN from EARTH who has a SWORD and LOVES MAGIC and is Pearl’s FAVORITE STUDENT, is Lion’s favorite person*

Lion has a personality and sentience, why would he not have a character arc and motivations and knowledge that explain his behavior? Does it really make sense for him to be a handbag who takes Steven on quests? Isn’t that exactly what Pearl’s character arc was all about not being?

Offers the opportunity for Rose to face her problems

*this isn’t really evidence but I love Connie and so does Lion

(Lion is also Melon Mutt because)

There are 3 Melon Mutts but they all come to Steven immediately after body swapping

The Watermelon society episodes are clearly saying something about the story (Baby Melon = Pink Diamond and Steven Melon 1 = Rose), but my galaxy brain is too deep into Lion to actually understand the melons beyond that

Lion rescued Steven because he saw where he went

Why would we need Melon Mutt at all otherwise? What’s the point? We already have Pumpkin?

[angelofthequeers]

Ladybug and Reine Nuit: Chapter 2

Origins II

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

If you don’t take the chance to spruce up Ladybug’s outfit, then what are you doing with your life?

Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3 link

For a moment, Alya is frozen, unable to do so much as breathe. The little cat yawns and stretches, then blinks, revealing brilliant green cat eyes.

“Uh –” Alya clears her throat and tries again. “Uh – what – guh?”

“Better than my last holder’s reaction,” the tiny cat drawls in a scratchy voice, then darts over to Alya’s computer. “Ooh, shiny! Can you eat this? No, you can’t,” he gags when he tries to bite a corner off the monitor.

“Um, hello!” Alya says in a high-pitched voice. “Less eating, more talking! What are you?”

This is all just a dream. It has to be. What other explanation is there for a talking cat appearing in her room?

“My name’s Plagg. I’m a kwami,” the little cat says. “I grant powers. Yours is the power of destruction. Got it?”

“Wait…” Something click’s in Alya’s brain and she shrieks and bounces on the spot. “You – powers – am I a superhero now?”

“Uh huh,” Plagg says. Alya squeals and snatches up the silver ring to slide it onto her right middle finger. “And no one can know I exist, you should have a partner to help out, yadda yadda, you know the drill. Seriously, you got anything to eat? I’m starving.”

“Omgomgomg yayayayayayay!” Alya throws herself into her blue beanbag chair, kicking and flailing. “I’m a superhero now! I get to go out and fight crime and save people and be badass and – and – wait.” She freezes and points out the window in the general direction of the giant stone monster. “Does that mean I have to fight that thing?”

“Uh huh,” Plagg says.

“How do I transform? Is there a magic word? Do I like – I dunno – do a dance or something?”

“You just gotta say claws out. Now, first thing you gotta know is –”

“Plagg, claws out!”

“Wait, I haven’t finished explainiiiiiing –!”

The ring on Alya’s finger pulses as Plagg is sucked into it, and she’s enveloped by bright green magic, cold and forceful and powerful. Although she’s not entirely sure why, she runs her fingers across her eyes from the bridge of her nose, then brushes a hand over her hair, then holds her other arm up in the air and does a twirl until the green sparkles fade away.

“Oh. My. God.” Looking down at herself, all Alya can see is shiny black leather. She rushes for her mirror, tripping over herself in her haste, and she lets out a high-pitched squeal of excitement when she catches sight of her reflection – her superhero reflection!

Her hazel eyes are now cat-like and bright green, with the whites of her eyes a paler green colour. Her features are concealed behind a black mask with two points above her eyes and one down her nose, like a cat nose and miniscule ears, and with a thin outline of neon green. She has fake black and green cat ears on her head, while her brown hair is pulled back into a bushy ponytail tied with a green ribbon, and she’s wearing a tight black suit with a high split neck and green trim, elbow-length bright green gloves, and thigh-high black boots with green around the tops. She’s also got a thin black belt around her waist that hangs behind her like a cat’s tail and a bright green cat’s paw on her chest, along with neon green cat paw pads on her black palms and fingers. A quick look at one of her boot soles confirms that her feet have the inverse: green soles and black paw pads.

No. Way. What. The. Heck. She looks just like a comic book superhero!

“This is the greatest day ever!” Alya grabs the baton resting at the small of her back and rushes over to her glass door to burst out on her balcony. She climbs onto the railing, takes a deep breath, then leaps.

“Wahooooo!” Alya shrieks before realising that she’s about two seconds from splatting on the road below. Acting purely on instinct, she shakes her baton to extend it into a staff and holds it above her head so that it catches on a street lamp, then grabs the other end with her other hand. The lamp acts as a hook, leaving her dangling, her vision blurring from the jarring force in her arms that should have dislocated her arms but strangely didn’t.

“Okay,” Alya groans, letting herself drop to the ground. “Lesson one: don’t go jumping off balconies two seconds after getting superpowers.”

She eyes up a nearby building, then looks at her staff, and then gives a rather shark-like grin. Using her staff as a vaulting pole and with the aid of what she can only assume are enhanced physical abilities, she manages to leap from the road to the roof of the building, letting out a hysterical laugh as the wind whooshes in her ears but the locks of hair hanging around her face magically stay put and don’t fall in her eyes.

“What else can this thing do?” she says. She frowns at a building across the street in the next block over, then throws her staff like a javelin and whistles when it nestles neatly against the other building, laid between that one and the one she’s on like a tightrope. “Should I? I mean…I can’t die if I fall, can I?”

There’s no response from Plagg. With a sigh, Alya gingerly places one foot on the staff, then the other, then thrusts her arms out on either side and ever so carefully inches across. Don’t look down, don’t look down…

“Hey, I think I’m getting it!” Alya says. Almost as if in response, there’s a shrill scream that steadily grows louder and louder, and Alya looks up just in time to catch sight of a red figure hurtling through the air before crashing into her. Thankfully, the figure has some sort of string-rope-thing that catches their fall and leaves them dangling in mid-air from Alya’s staff, bound front-to-front, although Alya’s currently too busy trying to coax her stomach out of her throat to really pay attention to what it is.

When they finally stop swinging from side to side and Alya manages to regain a few of her brain cells, she realises that it’s a yo-yo. And the wielder of the yo-yo is a girl who looks absolutely terrified.

“Uh…hi!” Alya grins. “Your first day too?”

“How could you tell?” the other girl says with a faint laugh, finally managing to untangle them. Alya nimbly lands on her feet, but the other girl is a lot clumsier and nearly crashes on her face. “Sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“No sweat, girl,” Alya says. “At least you didn’t nearly rip your arms out of your sockets.” She finally gets a good look at the other girl, who’s wearing a tight suit that’s red with black spots over her chest and upper arms, with a black abdomen, ladybug-patterned legs, and black elbow-length gloves and knee-length boots. Her jet-black hair is red-tipped and in pigtails, tied with red ribbons, and the eyes behind her ladybug-patterned mask are a brilliant shade of blue.

“Ouch,” the girl winces. “That sounds painful.”

“Oh, you bet.” Alya nudges the girl. “Anyway, you must be the partner my kwami told me about! I’m…hmm, okay, hold up. I gotta think of the perfect name!”

“I take it you’re a fan of superheroes?” the girl says.

“Am I ever! How about…Chatte Noire! Nah, too simple. I’m literally just calling myself ‘black cat’ in French.”

“Well, I’m Ma – er – Mar – uh…” The girl pulls her yo-yo free of Alya’s staff. Alya winces and groans when the end of it slams her on the head, but it also brings her staff down with it, so she bends down to grab it. “Madly clumsy! I’m so clumsy. And sorry. So sorry.”

“All good, clumsy girl,” Alya says. “I don’t have any more of an idea what I’m doing. Hmm…Patte d’Ébène? Ugh, no, that so doesn’t sound heroic. That sounds like some fancy rich meal.”

The ground beneath them suddenly rumbles, causing Alya to nearly trip over her own feet despite her enhanced reflexes. A tall building crumbles to the ground nearby, and Alya immediately starts running in that direction, using her staff to propel her to a nearby rooftop.

“Hey! Where are you going?” ladybug girl cries.

“Uh, to save Paris, right?” Alya calls back, then takes off again. “Dame Lune? Eh, that doesn’t feel right. Ugh, how does Majestia even do this?”

.

The stone monster turns out to be at the stadium, cornering one of Alya’s new classmates – Kim, judging by the monster’s cries.

“Hey!” Alya nimbly lands in front of Kim, shielding him from the monster. “Pick on someone your own size! Oh my god, that’s the actual cheesiest line. Can I have a do-over intro?”

“Huh?” the monster says. Rolling her eyes, Alya lets out a war cry and charges to slam her staff into the monster…and promptly gets her ass handed to her when it just grows bigger after she hits it and then flicks her away.

“Ow,” Alya moans. She untangles herself from the soccer net and runs at the monster again, but it lets out a rumbling, almost bored sigh and throws her into a row of seats around the stadium. Thank god for kwami superpowers, because otherwise Alya’s spine would totally be smashed to pieces right about now. On the other side of the stadium, at the very top, Alya spots the ladybug girl covering her mouth, making no attempt to jump in and help.

Okay, if Alya has to pull both their weights, she’s gonna be super pissed.

“You can do it, red bug hero!” calls a voice from nearby. Once she’s managed to extract herself, Alya pinpoints the source as the Adrien kid, who’s crouching near the entrance to the inside of the stadium, recording the fight on his phone with wonder in his eyes. Why is he even here? He hadn’t come along to P.E.; Alya distinctly remembers him asking to talk to Marinette back in the library.

Apparently, Adrien seems to have no sense of self-preservation, because he doesn’t move when the stone monster growls and rips up a soccer net, then hurls it in his direction. It’s purely instinct – adrenaline surges through her – Alya bounds across the stadium and throws her staff to catch the net above Adrien’s head. At the same time, a yo-yo comes hurtling out of nowhere, wraps itself around Adrien’s waist, and yanks him out of harm’s way so that Alya can retrieve her baton and let the net fall to the ground harmlessly.

“About time!” Alya says to ladybug girl.

“Sorry!” ladybug girl says. “I’m just…really not up to this.”

“You think I’ve had any experience before today either?” Alya says. “Let’s turn this guy into dust!”

“Kick his butt, awesome superhero girls!” Adrien calls from a safe distance.

“Excuse me, but the name’s…uh…Reine…Nuit…Reine Nuit! Yeah, Reine Nuit!” Alya – Reine Nuit – snaps her fingers. “Perfect!”

“Have you noticed now he grows bigger and stronger with every attack?” ladybug girl says. “We have to do something different.”

“Any ideas?” Reine Nuit says. Ladybug girl frowns.

“What’s your superpower?” she says.

“Uh…my superpower?” Reine Nuit says. “I mean, I’ve got super senses, this awesome staff –”

“No, no, you should have a special power!”

Reine Nuit blinks. “Shit. Maybe I should’ve let my kwami explain everything before I transformed.”

Ladybug girl snorts. “You think? I guess it’s up to me. Lucky Charm!” She tosses her yo-yo into the air and catches a ladybug-patterned wetsuit.

“Umm…handy?” Reine Nuit says. “So, uh, what’s the plan?”

“My kwami told me I have to break the object where the whatchamacallit – er, the akuma is hidden.”

“He’s literally made of stone,” Reine Nuit deadpans. “Unless you can figure out which rock –”

“His right hand!” Ladybug girl points. “It’s still closed! He never opens it. It’s like the Russian dolls – the object isn’t on him, it’s hidden in his fist!”

“Huh. Smart and cute.” Reine Nuit winks. “I reckon we’ll get along just fine. What’s your plan, red bug hero?”

“Hmm…”

Okay, Reine Nuit is eternally grateful that she didn’t end up with the Ladybug Miraculous. Ladybug girl’s plan involves sticking a hose into the Lucky Charm suit, yeeting Reine Nuit and then herself at the stone monster to make it drop the akuma, then getting Adrien to turn the hose on to inflate the suit and force the monster to let ladybug girl go. Once she’s free, ladybug girl smashes the dark object to bits, releasing a purple-veined butterfly that goes flapping off into the distance.

“Yeowch!” Reine Nuit cries when the stone monster dissolves into another classmate of hers and sends her crashing to the ground. “That. Was. So. Cool!”

“What’s going on?” the burly boy groans, rubbing his head, “What am I doing here?”

“You were incredible, red bug hero!” Reine Nuit gushes, jumping to her feet. “You did it!”

“Ladybug. Call me Ladybug. And we both did it,” ladybug girl – Ladybug – corrects. Purely by instinct, they punch at each other in a fist-bump, declaring, “Pound it!”

“Uh, what’s that?” Reine Nuit says when Ladybug’s earrings give off a loud beep.

“We’ve only got five minutes after we use our power before we transform back,” Ladybug says. “You should go. Our identities must remain a secret!”

“Yeah, yeah, first rule of superheroing,” Reine Nuit says. She bounds away, calling, “Until next time!” over her shoulder.

In the high of defeating a real live supervillain, Reine Nuit doesn’t realise that she’s forgotten to get one crucial detail from Plagg: how to turn back into herself. It’s not until she’s in her room that it hits her.

“Crud,” she says. “Uh…claws out? Detransform? Back to Alya?”

Nothing happens.

“I can’t be like this forever!” Reine Nuit cries. “I mean, not that I’d hate being a superhero forever, but I have a life and a family, and everyone will know who I am if I don’t turn back and –” She groans and facepalms. “That’ll teach me to rush ahead without listening to the magic black cat.”

Pouting, she slumps on her bed, fiddling with her ring, which is now black with a tiny green cat’s paw. She wriggles it off her finger, then gasps when she’s enveloped in bright green light that devours her suit and leaves her as just plain Alya again.

“Oh,” Alya says. “Uh…that should’ve been obvious.”

“Next time, you might wanna try not rudely interrupting me,” Plagg says when he’s zipped out of the ring and sprawled across Alya’s bed. “Claws in to detransform, by the way.”

“Right. Sorry.” Alya sits down on the bed next to the tiny kwami. “So, uh…what’s my superpower? If Ladybug’s is Lucky Charm –”

“Cataclysm.” Plagg says. “Destroys anything you touch. One-time use before you turn back. I’m so hungry!”

Alya blinks at him.

“What?” he says sullenly. “I gotta keep my strength up somehow. No food for moi, no more superhero for toi.”

“Ugh, fine,” Alya says. “Wait, what do you even eat, anyway?”

Plagg’s eyes light up. “Camembert! Beautiful, rich, stinky Camembert!”

“…Great.” Alya facepalms. “Now I’m gonna stink of cheese. Well…small price to pay for being a superhero, I suppose.” The words send a thrill through her.  

“Damn right,” Plagg says. “Where’s my Camembert?”

“Alright, cat face,” Alya sighs, pushing herself back to her feet. “Wait here. I’ll get your icky cheese.”

Plagg’s cheers follow her out of the room. She pauses outside her door, shakes her head, then smiles and heads for the kitchen. Alya Césaire is now a superhero! Who would’ve ever dreamt that this would happen to her?

[aquaminwrites]

Skin Deep: 06

Pairing: Yoongi x Tattoo Artist!Reader (M/F) Genre: Friends to lovers, slow burn. Eventual smut. Rating: 18+ Warnings: Language, mentions of infidelity Word Count: 4.8K

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 (links removed due to tumblr issue)

A/N: The angst train has pulled into the station! Exes revealed! I actually really enjoyed writing this one. Please let me know what you think! I love chatting with you guys. :)

“Why are you even awake right now?”

Yoongi moves the phone away from his ear to check the time. It’s almost noon, but Junghyun’s voice on the other end sounds thick with sleep, croaky and dry. “Dude. The day is already half gone. Why aren’t you awake right now?”

“Mind your business, Min,” Junghyun grumbles, and Yoongi hears sheets being rustled as, presumably, the older Jeon stumbles out of bed. “You’re the one who’s basically an indoor cat, napping the entire day away. Anyway, to what do I owe this call?” After a pause, he adds in a conspiratorially low whisper, “You never call.”

“Uh,” Yoongi falters for a second, leaning back in his office chair. He’s in his studio, working on his mixtape, desperately trying not to focus too much on the kiss you gave him yesterday. Clearly to no avail, hence why he’s on the phone with Junghyun. “I just wanted to ask you some stuff about Y/N.”

“Uh oh,” Junghyun snickers. “Jungkook told me this was bound to happen. And so the lion fell in love with the lamb.”

Yoongi blinks a few times, hard. “Did you just fucking quote Twilight at me?”

“Hey, you’re the one who recognized it. Anyway, what are your intentions with my best friend? You gonna try to bone her and leave or something? Because if so, I will end your life. You think I’m exaggerating, but I’m not. I’ll do it. I’m a maniac.”

“Hyung, do you ever shut up?” Yoongi grumbles, immediately regretting the call. “I just wanted to ask you why it is she doesn’t date. She’s been hinting at the reason why when we talk, but she’s never actually given me a solid explanation.”

Junghyun is quiet for a second, definitely uncharacteristic for Yoongi’s older friend. After a brief pause, he says, “She hasn’t told you about her ex yet?”

Yoongi scratches the back of his head. “Well…no. She said she would eventually, but—”

“If she says she’ll tell you, she will,” Junghyun interrupts. “She’s a really private person, Yoongi. Her ex was a piece of shit. Not physically abusive, but definitely emotionally so. They were together for a really long time, and when they broke up, it devastated her. She’s only just gotten back on her feet. It’s really not my story to tell though…if you want to know about him and their history, you’ll have to hear it from her.”

Yoongi sighs, but he knows deep down that Junghyun is right.

“You just sighed because you know I’m right, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up, hyung.”

—

It’s a gloomy day, overcast and drizzling, which is unusual for mid-August. Yoongi decides to brave the outdoors anyway, having already promised that he would hang out with you at your studio today. He stops by one of your favourite cafés to pick up some soup, figuring you probably hadn’t eaten yet and that he would surprise you with a late lunch.

As he scales the stairs leading up to your door, he can hear you talking rather loudly, sounding irate. Another voice filters through as well, a male one, and Yoongi immediately starts to prickle with caution and worry. He takes the stairs two at a time until his hand is on the doorknob.

He stops for a moment, straining to listen to the words being exchanged before he bursts in.

“Is there someone else?”

“What are you talking about? Why the fuck do you care? You lost the right to know anything about my life. You can’t be here, please leave.”

“You know, we used to be best friends. How can you throw that away so easily? C’mon, babe, I really miss you, let me treat you to a cup of coffee at least so that we can talk—”

“You were the one who threw our relationship away, not me. For the last time, I’m not interested. Please just go.”

Yoongi decides that it’s as good a time as ever to make his presence known. He swings the door open, the bell atop the door chiming brightly as two pairs of eyes land on him. One pair, yours, are wide with surprise but then settle into what can only be described as relief as you exhale a tiny breath.

The other pair belong to a man, tall and lean, with dark silver hair pushed back from his forehead. He’s covered in tattoos, a traditional black and grey dragon coiling down one arm, and two foo dogs on the other. His eyes are sharp and his gaze is focused on Yoongi. He’s standing close to you. Too close, judging by the expression on your face.

The man’s full lips purse as he sizes Yoongi up. He lets out a derisive snort and turns back to you. “So there is someone else, then?”

Your arms are folded over your chest, shoulders curling inward as you look away from him. “You don’t have the right to ask me that. Get out.”

The man hums for a moment, looking back at Yoongi with a critical eye. “Fine,” he relents. “But just think about my offer, okay? At least so that we can catch up. My number is the same, if you still have it.”

You open your mouth again to tell him to fuck off and leave me alone, when he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the apple of your cheek. He then takes his leave, purposely brushing past Yoongi roughly by bumping his shoulder, causing him to nearly drop the takeout container of soup in his grasp.

Yoongi glares at the man as he stomps down the stairs before turning back to you, looking distressed as you furiously wipe at your cheek with the back of your hand.

“Hey, hey,” Yoongi coos quietly as you won’t stop rubbing at your face. He sets the soup down on the front desk and comes over to where you’re standing, noticing immediately that your eyes have welled up with tears. His hands rest gently on your shoulders as he tries to get you to look at him. “Are you okay? Who was that?”

You choke out a laugh, wiping at your eyes so as not to ruin your eyeliner. “That was my ex, Namjoon.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen. “That was your ex?”

You scoff slightly, shaking your head. “Don’t play dumb, Yoongi. I know you heard at least part of that argument when you were waiting outside the door.”

He gulps, nervously tugging on his ear. “You…knew I was out there?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, body slumping with exhaustion. “I heard you coming up the stairs.”

“Oh, yeah,” Yoongi silently curses himself. “Uh, well…do you…want to talk about it?”

You glance up at him, his eyes full of concern. “I guess. Come, let’s sit.”

You lead Yoongi over to the bench where the clients are meant to wait, and Yoongi immediately perks up. “Wait, you don’t have a client waiting for you, do you?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I was supposed to catch up on emails today. I don’t have anyone scheduled to come in.” The two of you sit, probably a little too close, but you don’t move away, so Yoongi doesn’t either. You’re quiet, wringing your wrists and playing with your left ring finger slightly.

“You don’t have to tell me if—”

“No,” you interrupt, looking up at him and taking in a deep breath. “I want to.”

Yoongi nods. “Okay.”

You exhale shakily, replaying the painful memory in your mind.

ONE YEAR AGO…

You’re sitting at your kitchen table, a tall glass of red wine in hand. It’s late, the moon already high in the sky as you stare at the dark liquid, hoping you can drown your sorrows in it. Your eyes are swollen from all the crying, a suitcase packed by the door. The house is dark, except for the light shining from above. You check the clock on your phone again for the hundredth time, waiting for him to come home.

Finally, the front door opens and Namjoon walks through the threshold.

“Babe? How come it’s so dark in here? What are you—”

Namjoon pauses mid-sentence as he registers the sight before him. Your luggage resting by the door, you downing half of your glass of wine in one gulp.

Namjoon approaches you cautiously, one hand on the back of his usual chair at your dining table. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Joon,” you say feebly, wrenching the diamond engagement ring off your left ring finger. You take one last look at it, the beautiful piece of jewelry that the two of you had designed together, and slide it across the table in his direction. “I’m done.”

Namjoon deflates almost entirely, pulling out his chair so that he can take a seat. He picks up the ring and holds it between his fingers, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I thought…I thought we got past everything. I thought you said you forgave me, that it was all going to be okay.”

You bury your face in your hands, tears falling freely. “Joonie, please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“No, fuck that, you’re giving up? Just like that? Do I mean nothing to you at all?”

Your hands fall from your face, and suddenly, you’re furious. Your brows furrow in disgust as you regard the man that you used to call your fiancé, the one you thought was the love of your life.

“How dare you tell me that I’m giving up,” you say shakily as you ball your hands into fists in your lap. “I’m not the one who cheated on you with your best friend for months, Namjoon. Do you know how fucking stupid I felt when I realized how long the two of you were going around behind my back? For fuck’s sake, the three of us opened a studio together. We were business partners. She—” You pause, trying to collect your thoughts as your eyes dart around the room, looking everywhere but him. “You two were my best friends.”

Namjoon lets out a scoff. “As if you’ve never fucked Junghyun.”

Your eyes narrow at him in disgust. “I have never touched Junghyun in all the years we’ve been friends and you know that.”

“Do I?” Namjoon presses. “You’ve got your fucking bags packed by the door, ready to leave. How long have you been planning this, huh? What else are you hiding from me? What’s your end game? Where are you going to go? We bought a fucking house together, you’re going to just let all that money go to waste?”

“If you think I’m going to stay with you because of a mortgage, you’re insane,” you hiss. “You don’t get to try and turn this around on me. You know for a fact that I tried to go back to the way things were after I found out about you and Jisoo, but how am I supposed to be with you if I can’t trust you?”

Tears start falling freely from your eyes again, and you take a moment to hastily wipe them away with the ends of your sleeves before reaching over to down the rest of your wine.

“The lease for the studio is under my name, and I’ve contacted the landlord to let him know that I will be the sole renter of the space. You and Jisoo can find somewhere else to work, but it won’t be with me. I’ve already informed her of this, and she got her stuff out this afternoon.”

Namjoon is quiet, contemplative. He lets out a heavy sigh, slumping back in his seat. “I love you, you know that?”

He sounds earnest, you have to give him that. You bite at your lower lip to stop it from trembling. “If you loved me, then I should have been enough for you.”

“You’ve always been enough, baby,” Namjoon insists, holding out his free hand to you. “I made a mistake. A stupid, fucked up mistake. I was selfish, I get that. But we can work past it, yeah?We can do couple’s therapy, whatever you want. I love you more than anything. You don’t have to do this.” You stare at his open palm, wanting so badly, so desperately, to reach out and touch him. But you know that if you do, you’ll spiral, you’ll forgive him again like you did the last time, and you know that you can’t. You keep your hands in your lap, and shake your head.

“I love you too,” you confess, though the words feel wrong leaving your mouth. Namjoon looks at you, his eyes glimmering with the tiniest bit of hope. You swallow, hard. “But I don’t trust you. And I can’t be with you anymore.”

You rise from your seat, the legs of the chair scraping against the hardwood floor as you push off. You head to the door and slip on your shoes, collecting your bags as Namjoon watches helplessly from the table.

“Where are you going to go?” He asks softly. The despondent look in his eyes makes you believe that he’s finally accepted the fact that you’re leaving.

“Don’t worry about me,” you respond, one foot already out the door. “I’ll be alright.”

You take one last look at the man you thought you loved, the one that hurt you so deeply. Part of you still wishes that you never found out, so that you could live out your days in married bliss like you had planned when the two of you first met. But you know there’s no going back now. You can only push yourself forward, moving in a direction where he can’t follow.

“Goodbye, Namjoon.”

And then you’re gone.

��

PRESENT DAY

Yoongi stares at you, mouth agape, as you recall the entire story. You’d caught your fiancé, Namjoon, cheating on you with Jisoo, your best friend at the time. She was the one who had gotten you your apprenticeship all those years ago, and that’s where you and Namjoon had met. You had mentioned that you, Namjoon and Jisoo had opened your studio as a trio, and the wheels began to turn in Yoongi’s mind.

“Wait…if Jisoo is the one that introduced you to Namjoon all those years ago, then that means…”

You look over at Yoongi and give him a small, sad nod. “Namjoon was my mentor.”

Yoongi feels the air leaving his lungs. You just look so devastated, having to relive those horrible memories. That’s why, when he’d seen the studio initially, he thought it was too big for just one person. It was a space meant for three. Yoongi tries his best not to seem like he’s pitying you, but apparently it doesn’t work because you burst into tears.

“I saw them together, you know,” you sniffle. “I saw them, in the bed that he and I shared, in the house that we fucking bought together. The one that we were going to raise a family in. And it wasn’t like it was just one time. They’d been sleeping together for months, and if I hadn’t caught them in the act, they probably would have kept on doing it.”

Yoongi sighs, shaking his head. “Sounds like the asshole was only sorry he got caught.”

You nod weakly, part of you hating that he’s right. “I don’t know why he came here. I haven’t spoken to him in nearly a year, since I ended our engagement. I just…I don’t know. I have his artwork all over me, for fuck’s sake. Even when I don’t want to think about him, I can’t help but think about him.”

Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek, and leans over to nudge your shoulder gently. “Do you still love him?”

You swipe at your eyes, no longer caring about your ruined makeup. “Part of me will always love him,” you admit, looking away from Yoongi because you don’t want to see the way his face falls at your words. “But I’m not in love with him, if that’s what you’re asking. I haven’t been for a long time. It took a fuck ton of therapy to get myself out of that head space, of thinking I wasn’t good enough.”

“He didn’t deserve you,” Yoongi promises, and you meet his gaze. He can feel your breath tingling against his skin, you’re so close. “He still doesn’t deserve you.”

Your lips part, your gaze darting to his mouth. “Yoongi…”

This is it, he thinks. It’s now or never…

He leans in at a nearly glacial pace, and just before his lips brush against yours, your hand on his chest is lightly pushing him back.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stutter, pulling away from him with a shake of your head. “This is wrong, I can’t—”

Yoongi’s eyes fly open in surprise. “W-what…I’m sorry, I just—”

“It’s not your fault,” you mumble, unable to look at him now. Yoongi desperately wishes you would just look at him. “I just…can’t. I’m sorry.”

Logically, Yoongi understands that you’re going through emotional turmoil. Logically, he understands that now might not have been the best time to try and make a move on you. But his brain is no longer operating on logic. Just pure frustration and anger.

Yoongi shakes his head, letting out a scoff. “You’re really fucking confusing me, you know that?” He rises from the bench, wrenching his hands in his hair as he starts to pace. You watch him helplessly, your vision blurred. “First you give me your number when I never even asked for it, you ask me out for coffee, you flirt with me nonstop, and then the other day after the showcase you fucking kiss me—”

“Yoongi, I—”

“No, it’s my turn to fucking talk.”

Your mouth clamps shut, lower lip wobbling. Yoongi doesn’t look at you. He knows that if he does, he’ll cave. And right now, he has some shit to say.

“You have been so fucking confusing, right from day one. You make me feel so stupid, you know? Like you’re this otherworldly, all-accepting perfect person whose mission it is to make me feel like shit for not having the same mentality as you. Do you know how much of myself I changed just so you would look my way?”

You exhale shakily. “I never asked you to do that.”

“Yes, you did!” Yoongi yells, his voice strained. “You asked me to be less judgmental, and I’ve been fucking trying. Do you know how shitty it is to have someone point out your flaws? As if I didn’t know them already? Sometimes it feels like I’m just some project for you so that you can convince yourself that you’re doing some sort of good by making me less of an asshole.”

“Yoongi,” you whimper. “You know that’s not true.”

“How am I supposed to know that?” He bellows. “I fucking let you into my life and you changed everything. All of my friends think you’re fucking perfect, and that I’m an idiot because I fucking fell for you and didn’t have the courage to do anything about it. And then you kissed me after the showcase, and it made me really believe that you liked me. I really thought for a second that maybe that’s what it was like to be in love, to have the stupid butterflies and dreams and hopes—and now what? This?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

“This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

A tear rolls down your cheek in the silence that follows. “I…didn’t realize I made you feel that way,” you say, barely above a whisper. “You know that I only wanted to help you, right, Yoongi? I just—”

“I didn’t ask for your fucking help!” Yoongi seethes. “I never asked for any of this. I never asked to feel this way. I never expected or wanted to fall for someone like you—”

At that, you rise. The tears are still welling up in your eyes, but your face is set in angry determination, fists clenched at your sides. Your voice is thick is you repeat, “Someone like me.”

The way you phrase it isn’t a question. It’s a statement.

It’s in that moment that Yoongi realizes everything that he’d said. “Y/N wait, that’s not what I meant—”

“Save it, Yoongi,” you shake your head at him, brushing past him to get to the door. You grab the knob and fling it open, holding it there as you stare directly into his eyes. “Get out.”

Yoongi reaches out, desperate to touch you, but you jerk your arm away.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I thought you were different,” you whisper, shaking your head. “Get. Out.”

Yoongi opens his mouth again to say something—anything—but the look in your eyes tells him that you’re done. He feels his heart sink down to the pit of his stomach, his throat beginning to constrict as regret and despair wash over him. With what dignity he has left, he forces himself out of your studio, out of your life, and down the stairs to the outside world. He hears you slam the door behind him, the lock clicking into place.

The rain is still pouring outside, and Yoongi squints his eyes up at the thick, dark clouds that tower overhead. Rain droplets dot his face, and as they roll down his cheeks, he can almost pretend as if he isn’t crying.

Upstairs, you grab the container of soup that Yoongi had brought you. You dump its contents down the toilet and chuck the empty container into the trash before collapsing onto the ground in a fit of sobs. After what seems like an eternity, you fish your phone out of your pocket and scroll through your contacts.

His name is still there, mocking you.

You take a deep breath, and click on it.

Now calling Kim Namjoon…

—

“Yoongi-hyung, maybe you’ve had enough,” Hoseok says gently as Yoongi tosses back another shot of soju. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as the alcohol burns his throat, making his vision hazy and his words slurred.

“Maybe you haven’t had enough,” he counters, draining the rest of the bottle. “I just want to forget this day. Forget the last six months ever fucking happened.”

Hoseok sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’d ordered a beer that he was slowly nursing as Yoongi took shot after shot, but he decides now that at least one of them needs to have a clear head. He pushes his beer away and places his elbow on the bar, turning his body so that it’s facing his friend.

“What happened?”

Yoongi has his arms crossed and is leaning heavily on the solid oak, his head hanging low as he tries to control his emotions. “I fucked up,” he croaks. “I fucked up, and now she hates me.”

“Who, Y/N?” Hoseok asks, stunned. “She could never hate you, Yoongi. I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

He scoffs, shoulders shaking in a sarcastic laugh that has him nearly falling off his barstool. “You weren’t there, man. Whatever chance I had, it’s…it’s gone. She’s done with me. It’s over.”

Hoseok frowns, knowing he’s not going to get any information out of his friend tonight. Not when he’s like this. Exasperated, he picks up his beer again and takes a deep gulp.

“Atta boy,” Yoongi hiccups, patting Hoseok hard on the back before directing his attention to the bartender. “Hey, another round over here!”

—

Yoongi stumbles into his apartment, not entirely sure how he got there. He recalls that he can’t drive, so drunk driving is out of the question. He squints his eyes, peering into the darkness of his home as if the answer to how he arrived there will emerge from the shadows. He vaguely recollects Hoseok shoving him into a cab and tossing some money at the driver, so that’s probably what happened.

Kicking off his shoes, he wanders towards the bathroom to brush his teeth. He may be wasted, but he’s not a barbarian. As he stumbles out of the bathroom once he’s brushed his teeth and relieved his bladder, he comes face to face with his studio door. There’s a sign on it that reads GENIUS LAB, a name jokingly given to him by Hoseok that just sort of stuck. He snorts at it now.

Some fucking genius I am, he thinks, but pushes the door open anyway, ambling inside.

Immediately, he regrets it.

Everywhere he looks, he sees you. Glimpsing at his piano, he sees you practicing your scales as he watches intently, helping you adjust your finger movements so that they’re more fluid. Turning to the grey couch by the door, he sees you with your brows furrowed in concentration as you draw on your tablet, trying to figure out different compositions for larger scale tattoos. And then he looks at his computer, where all of his hard work is created and stored, and remembers the way you looked at him the first time you listened to his music.

You’d gazed at him so adoringly, like you were one soul separated in two bodies. He would do anything to have you look at him that way even just one more time.

The realization sobers him slightly, and he shuffles out of his studio to wander over to his bed. Flopping face down against his pillows, he wonders if he could suffocate like this if he tried not to move. He groans and rolls over after a few seconds, knowing that death by pillow won’t solve any of his problems.

He takes out his phone against his better judgment, and starts dialling your number from memory. His body and mind are operating on separate levels, and before he realizes it, he’s pressing the phone against his ear as the line rings and rings and rings.

It keeps on ringing.

You don’t pick up.

Hi, this is Y/N. I’m not available at the moment, but if you leave your name, number, and a detailed message, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks!

BEEP

Yoongi swallows the lump in his throat. What is he doing? What did he expect, that you would pick up the phone, that he would confess his love to you, and that everything would be forgiven?

He’s quiet for a few more seconds before he finally decides to speak.

“Hey,” he begins. He’s silent again for a beat, trying to find his words. “I know you probably hate me.” He pauses to croak out a laugh. “I hate me too, if it’s any consolation. I fucking suck. I’m a fucking idiot and…I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean what I said to you today. You make me a better person. You changed me, yeah, but I needed that change. Just like I need you. And I don’t…I don’t want to pressure you into anything. I know I fucked up, and you probably don’t ever want to see me again, but…if there’s any chance that you do, then please, please call me back.”

Yoongi lets out a shaky breath, tears blurring his vision and tightening his throat. He sniffles loudly before he remembers that he’s still on the phone.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. You’re probably going to delete this message as soon as you hear it. But, uh…don’t cut the others out of your life because of me, okay? They’re good people, and they care about you. So do I, even though I’m shit at showing it. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me one day. So…yeah. Bye.”

He removes the phone from his ear and presses the button on the screen to end the call. Tossing his phone aside, Yoongi shucks off his jeans and burrows under the covers.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he hopes and prays that tomorrow will be better, that maybe he’ll wake up and none of this will have happened. That he’ll check his phone and see a text from you asking when he’s going to come by to hang out, that he’ll be able to go to your studio and bring you lunch, that the two of you will take the bus to HopeWorld together to watch Hoseok, Jungkook and Jimin dance.

He still hasn’t forgotten that he promised to dance for you, way back when you were teaching him about tattooing. He hopes he’ll get to see your smiling face as he makes a fool of himself for you, because there’s no one else in the world who could coax him into embarrassing himself on purpose with just a smile.

Hope is all he has left. So he embraces the darkness behind his eyelids, and hopes for a better tomorrow.

[lord-explosion-baku]

Dabi x reader (soulmate au)

Warnings: ANGST, swearing, blood

A/n: OH MY GOD @razzella as soon as I put your ask on here I realized that you requested a hero!reader and now I didn’t mean to combine these requests because I didn’t make the reader a hero in this one, I just did a damn good goof is all. I’ll be sure to make it up to you but ima still post your request on here because of the angst. Huzzah! ALSO if Dabi isn’t Endeavor’s son then I’m going to quit writing. That is all.

The first time you saw through your soulmates eyes, you didn’t know what was going on. You were on the sidewalk, on your way to grade school and suddenly you weren’t seeing through your eyes but through someone else’s??

They were kicking a ball around with two other kids, a boy and a girl, that had white hair. They looked like they were having a lot of fun. The vision literally knocked you off your feet and when you got your own vision back, you had scrapes on your arms and legs. You raced to school, ready to tell someone about what you thought might’ve been your new quirk!

Your teacher lectured you about being late but you didn’t listen, instead babbled all about everything that had happened to you.

Your teacher pulled you aside and explained to you what really happened. You had a soulmate? And you could see through their eyes? Awesome!

You learned that your vision would be shared with your soulmate if you willed it to happen, if you were extremely stressed out, or if you felt jubilantly happy. All day long you tried to figure out you could show your soulmate to say your first ‘hello!’

You decided to try and draw the girl you had seen from his eyes. White hair and glasses? It wasn’t too good but you drew yellow flowers around her and the ball on the ground. Okay, here we go! You tried as hard as you could to stare at your drawing and send it to your soulmate. How were you supposed to know if it worked?

Minutes passed and suddenly your vision was swarmed away and replaced with theirs. You saw the white haired girl again, this time you saw that there were flecks of red in her hair. She was mouthing something to you, er, them. A hand stretched out and put a yellow flower in her hair. They took a couple steps back and framed their vision with their fingers like a filmmaker would and picked up the same ball from earlier and chucked it at her. The vision ended with the girl running at them.

Wow. You swiftly got back to your drawing, putting red flecks in the girl’s hair, and drew a big and black frown over her mouth along with angry eyebrows. You drew a red tic-tac-toe mark on her forehead to annunciate her agitation and you sent the vision their way.

The next vision you got from them, was seen from the ground, you could tell they were laughing from their shaky vision, their hands clapped together a few times and it was over.

From then on, the two of you sent visions back and forth for years. The two of you helped each other on tests, rather, he would seldomly use you to cheat when it came to a tough problem. That’s how you found out his name was Touya, it was written on his papers. He was big on showing you stray cats he would see on the street and you would show him your progression on artwork.

The first time you saw his face, would be the last.

You were at home, doodling nothing of importance and you got a vision from him. He was at some sort of concert, bobbing his head, throwing his fists in the air. The band members looked super crust punk, patches on their jeans and vests with funky bright hair and they acted just as crazy as the crowd. You wished you could hear what was playing and you wondered what it would be like if you could go to one of the shows he frequently visited. You hoped you would be cool enough for him but you figured, you guys were soulmates. Whatever you were, you would be perfect for him.

About an hour later you got another vision from him. It was blurry, he wasn’t seeing right. He gripped onto a bathroom sink and spat blood into it. He was at home. He looked up into the mirror and you saw and furious and… upset red haired boy with piercings staring back at you. He yelled something but you couldn’t make out the words. Then, he punched the mirror, distorting the image of him. Turquoise eyes blinked, once, twice and then the vision was over.

You ran out of the house as fast as you could, insure of what to do. You looked up at the stars and tried sending them to him, you saw the neighbors cat grooming himself, you saw a cherry blossom tree. You waited for him to respond something, anything to you, but it never came.

From then on, there was nearly nothing. Other than when he woke up to a shaded room when his guard was down, always midday, he never sent another vision to you. At least you knew Touya was alive.

There wasn’t much help on the internet on ‘How To Find Your Soulmate Who Doesn’t Want To Be Found,’ but you didn’t give up. Not really. When you saw something beautiful like a hummingbird or a sunset you would send it his way. No response. It wasn’t like linking your vision to his took out any of your energy so you didn’t stop.

You got a job in an arts and crafts store where you could get discounts on art supplies. You worked in the framing department but on your breaks you sat outside and drew or painted. On one particular day, you were emotional, so you began painting the only thing you could think of, him.

Much like that old vision, the painting was distorted. You painted his pale skin a shade of blue and accentuated the red of his hair and the blood on his lips. The mirror was cracked around his face much like ice. You chose to paint his eyes the color of your own, to make a statement that nobody, other than yourself, would quite understand.

You picked up your work. It was… really good and you hated it. You hated him. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You understood that everyone had bad things happen in their lives but the fact the just cut you off completely hurt so bad. No explanation! Not anything! You wanted to set the painting on fire, you were so angry. Instead you tossed it on to the blacktop you were sitting in. Let the sun damage it.

Minutes passed. Your lunch break was surely over. You didn’t bother with your food. You didn’t bother going back.

The sound of footsteps started you but you didn’t bother looking up at you was approaching. Probably your boss looking for you. You were ready to feign an illness and go home. Patchy hands grabbed your painting. That got your attention.

You tried to look at who was standing in front of you but he was silhouetted by the sun. He put the piece between up in front of his face so you couldn’t see him. You could tell by his sneakers and jeans that he was around your age. Definitely not your boss.

“This is… very nicely done. Incredible work,” said the man in a low voice.

“If you want it, you can take it.”

The man chuckled. “I said it was incredible. Not that I liked it.”

You stood up. “Okay, asshole, there’s no need to be rude about it,” you grabbed the painting from his hands and suddenly your vision swirled and you were looking at yourself, puffy eyed and agitated. Your eyes were glossed over by the vision. “Wait-“ you blindly moved your hand over to where he was staring at you but he took a step back.

“You’ve really improved since that first picture you sent me.”

You saw your own eyes widen at the realization. “Touya?”

“No,” he said. “It’s not Touya anymore.”

You took a step forward waving your hands around trying to grab on to him. “Please, let me see you.”

“You don’t want to see me, I promise. I just… wanted to tell you that you were doing a good job. I wanted to know if you were okay.”

“Are you kidding me? Fuck you, Touya, it has been years and you haven’t reached out to me! I think I- stop walking away!”

You willed your vision to go to him and he froze then, just as blind as you were.

“That was clever of you,” he said trying his best to walk in a straight away from you.

You closed your eyes and ran for him, relying on his vision and him not be able to see through yours. “More clever than you think!” You wrapped your arms around him, halting him from going anywhere.

He chuckled, “you got me.” He put his hands behind his head. “Now what? You gonna force me to be your boyfriend or something?”

“You wanted to know if I was okay? Well then, let me tell you. I’m not. There hasn’t been a day pass by where I hadn’t had that image of you punching that mirror in my head!”

He sighed. “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Well I did!” You cried, putting your head to his chest. “I felt like I lost you that day. You never showed me anything! I lost a… a…”

“A soulmate?” He scoffed.

“I lost a friend! And what, now you come here just tell me you don’t like my painting and then go on your merry way and never speak to me again?! That’s not how this works! If you come into my life you stay in my life or you resist the temptation and never come at all!”

In your vision you saw your head and a patchy hand come down on it, stroking it. He had… staples connecting a second skin of some sort to his arm and hands. “I did,” he said.

“Did what?”

“Resist the temptation of coming into your life. For a long time now. I don’t think you realize how much you send me. I’ve… watched you for awhile. You have a good life. I know that if I was a part of it I’d be this rotten thing bringing you down. So I resisted that temptation. But then I saw that.” He looked at the painting that was dropped to the floor. “And I knew where you were and now I’m,” he exhaled. “Now I’m here.”

“Let me see you,” You said into his chest.

He closed his eyes. “Please,” You said.

He was silent for a moment, stroking your head. You could feel his heartbeat pickup through his chest. This was really hard for him. “Okay,” he finally said. “How about on the count of three we both let each other see again.” You nodded. “Alright one…” you wiped your eyes, “two…” he didn’t think you were that dumb did he? “Three…”

Your vision blurred and suddenly you could see. You looked into those turquoise eyes that you longed to see for so long now. They were hazed over. You didn’t relinquish your vision from him. The same type of patches he had on his hand were on his face, under his eyes, on his chin, covering his ears, poked in by some sort of staple. His red hair was now a jet black, spiked up. He was still handsome though.

“So you didn’t get over your punk phase, I see.”

He cleared his throat. “I’d really rather not be looking at myself right now.

“Sorry,” You said blinking, allowing him to see for himself again. “I thought you were going to try and trick me.”

“So you tricked me instead? Mischievous.” Your hand reached up to touch his face and he frowned. “Pretty gross, right?”

You shook your head. “You’re definitely not a Touya but I like it. I think you’re…”

“Save it,” he rolled his eyes.

“Save what? I don’t need your permission to think my soulmate is handsome!”

He laughed then, a genuine one. “As long as I don’t need your permission to think that my soulmate is perfect. Even when she has been crying.”

You looked down, ashamed that he saw you crying. Not for a bad reason though. You were still incredibly upset with him. “I meant what I said, … you.” You didn’t know what to call him. “You can’t enter my life one day and be gone the next.”

“I guess I can’t now, knowing that you have trickery up those sleeves of yours.” He pulled you into an embrace. “I can’t say that I’m upset with it, though.”

He held you tightly. It was so nice to finally have him. To know him. To see him and to feel him. The two of you stayed like for for minutes.

Finally the two of you sat in the shade next to your work. He asked you about your painting, what kind a paints you preferred to use, what inspired you, besides him of course, and you talked and talked. You didn’t asked him what happened that day or what he has been up to. You figured he would tell you when he felt it necessary. You did, however, ask for his name.

“You can call me Dabi.”

~

Tags for EVERYTHING (closed): @yandere-inamorata @miitaart @dessiedawnwritesfanfiction @wickedlewicked @chickennuggetsarequestionable @nevermorelanore @kpanime @ayeputita @captain-sin-allmight-queen @diisasterbii @iceformer @meganofmars @colagirl5 @colorbookshd @grimmjadeskye @sm0kingcrack @sarcastictextstuck @zellllyyyy @psionicsnow @mynahx3 @andie-in-tumblland @iamthe-leaf @midnightfeline666 @bungou-stray-alies-tales-of-aly @rubyred-28 @kattariapenn @heypartypeps @quirktaker @thecryingsombra @smbody-stole-mycar-radio @ghost-of-todoroki @geektastic84 @personoffangirlingandtears @glixeo @mekakushi-dan-01-kido

[thejokersenigma]

Loki Laufeyson x Reader - Cat’s Eye’s - Part 3

I haven’t written any Loki for a while, so I thought I’d take the day to write the next part! I came up with this random idea late last night after 24 hours with barely any sleep so it could be completely mad, and too weird, but I felt like giving it a go! haha

I’m still not really sure where I’m going with this story, I feel like I’m just writing a lot of oneshots that slightly link up... I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if I ever actually come up with much of a plot haha

Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything.

REQUEST ARE ALWAYS OPEN!

MAIN MASTERLIST

CAT’S EYES MASTERLIST

“Meow.”

You heard the sound from above you, making you glance up at where Kali sat watching you anxiously. “Look if you're gonna be a literal scared-y cat and not help me, then keep your opinions to yourself and stay up there on guard.” You told her, your hair whipping around your shoulders and into your face and you wished you’d had the common sense to tie it out of the way before you started.

“You can understand that thing?” Came the other voice above you. You lifted your head again to see Agent Clint Barton looking down at you.  

“That ‘thing’ is Kali and she’s my oldest friend.” You muttered, returning your attention back to the open panel in front of you.

“And you understand her?” Clint continued to question in disbelief.

“When you've been with her as long as I have, trust me, you understand her.”

“And how long is that?”

“Since I was about nine, I think.” You said nonchalantly, your mind mostly of your work.

Clint furrowed his brow as he glanced between you and the cat sat at his feet. “Aren't cats only supposed to live till they're like ten or something?”

“I think the average is twelve.” You corrected him, not bothering to lift your head from where you were busy. Clint continued to watch you, waiting for further explanation that didn’t seem to be coming - your concentration elsewhere – so he let the conversation drop, glancing down at the black and brown cat who sat patiently by his feet, watching her owner below. It wasn’t his business if your cat was three or seventy-five, but it didn’t look old though.

“Can you toss the pliers?” You asked, breaking into Clint’s thoughts and he now bent to the small collection of tools next to him, sliding the pliers under the small gap between the glass pane barriers to where you could reach them.

“Thank you.” You sang, reaching up for them. You were glad you had managed to convince him to help, you weren’t sure you could have pulled this off otherwise – you knew Kali would have been annoyingly stubborn about helping you in an attempt to discourage you. It was easy to persuade people than cats.

You hadn’t specifically gone looking for Clint, but in hindsight you conveniently running into him as you snuck your way up the tower had been perfect. Even more perfect was, when you had found him, he’d been arguing with Tony. You had found the two of them talking heatedly in the centre of one of the many corridors and had quickly ducked behind the nearest corner - not wanting to be seen if you could help it – to listen in. You’d only managed to catch the end of the conversation, but it was clear Tony was being stubborn over something that was annoying the other man to no end. It hadn’t taken long for you to recognise the second man, having brushed up on you ‘Avengers’ knowledge ever since you’d worked out they were everywhere in this tower. This was clearly Agent Clint Barton known mainly for his archery skills and unique, custom-made arrows.

He’d be perfect to help. And he clearly had a grudge with Stark.

You hadn’t had to wait too long before Tony’s phone had gone off and your Uncle had chosen it as a good enough excuse to walk away from the Agent. Barton had yelled a few curses at the billionaire’s, but Tony had simply ignored him, luckily heading in the opposite direction to where you crouched.

“How much longer you gonna be?” Clint called over his shoulder, his back to you as he leaned on the balcony barrier, one ankle crossed over the other.

“A little bit longer, why?” You frowned, also not bothering to look over.

“’Cause we've got company.” He murmured, folding his arms.

You snapped your head up to the agent. “Who?”

“The adopted brother.” Clint muttered, sounding less than pleased.

“Loki?” You asked in disbelief. Shit. “Where is he?”

“Living room.”

“Well, go distract him!”

“And just how am I supposed to do that?” Clint murmured back at you, turning his head only slightly as he spoke, keeping up his appearance of chilling on the large balcony.

“I don't know,” You called up to him with a shrug, “Head him off somehow - tell him a joke - shoot him with an arrow.” You suggested. “I don’t care.”

“Fine.” He grumbled, “But you owe me more than just my rope back.”

You rolled your eyes as the agent now pushed himself off the railing and headed to the glass balcony doors. It hadn’t taken much to convince Clint to help you. You had caught him in the corridor the minute Tony was no longer in sight and had quickly explained your plan before you begged him to let you use some of his equipment. Barton had liked the idea of messing with Stark but put up a fight over the risk you would be putting yourself at. You had stood firm though, simply stating that no matter whether he aided you or not, you were still going to do it. That hadn’t left the agent with much choice and he’d reluctantly agreed to help you – even offering to stand guard.

“Meow.”

“I told you,” You huffed at the electrical panel, “if you - wait what -?”

“What in Odin’s name are you doing?” Exclaimed the all too familiar voice above you and you felt your stomach drop.

“Uh –“ You stuttered, glancing up at where Loki stared down at you over the metal railing. You flickered your eyes between the electrical panel and his pale face. “W- What does it look like I’m doing?” You tried lamely, attempting to buy yourself time as you came up with an excuse.

He raised an eyebrow at your pathetic question. “It would seem you’re trying to get yourself killed.” He told you. “I can see no other reason why you would be suspended over the side of a balcony and talking to your creature…” He muttered, now glancing down at Kali. You also dropped your attention to the cat, surprised to find her now winding herself around Loki’s legs, rubbing her head against his boots. You scowled at her. Traitor.

“What is it doing?” He asked, baffled.

You sighed heavily. “It means she has terrible taste in people. Or gods.” You muttered. Loki glanced back at you, knowing you had just slighted him, but still confused. You groaned, rolling your eyes, “It means she likes you – she wants attention.” You muttered bitterly, glowering at Kali as she obliviously continued to wrap herself around the god. Someone wasn’t sleeping on your bed tonight.

Loki continued to watch the creature’s odd behaviour for a moment before he glanced back down at you, finding you had now returned your attention to your work. He scowled, checking around him before leaning over the railing again. “Will you come back up here before you kill yourself.” He muttered crisply. “Or worse.” He added.

“What’s worse?” You asked, conversationally, not lifting your gaze from the wires you now attempted to unravel.

Loki glowered down at you “Oh, I can think of a few things...” He growled down at you. When, still, you made no move to do as he asked, Loki lifted his head to glance out over the city that sprawled miles towards the horizon. He let out a short, sharp breath before dropping his gaze back to where you hung from Agent Barton’s enhanced rope below him “Please.” He stressed through gritted teeth at you as though it was painful. “Your Midgardian fragility is making me uneasy.” He confessed.

“And what do you care if I fall? I though you don’t care about Midgardian lives?” You said, sharply withdrawing your hand when you accidentally managed to shock yourself on a piece of the panel.

“I don’t.” He agreed. “But that’s exactly why I’ll be blamed if you do so decide to fall to your death.” He pointed out. “Stark’s got recording devices everywhere - between me and the ‘dear agent’, who do you think he’ll believe responsible for snuffing out a petty Midgardian life?”

“Well you’ve got me there...” You muttered sarcastically, rolling your eyes. You suddenly frowned, glancing up at Loki, “What happen to Barton anyway? He was supposed to be distracting you.”

Loki’s lips twisted into a sly smirk. “Well he distracted me…” He muttered, glancing back at the balcony doors, “Just the wrong me…”

You frowned - momentarily confused by this - before you remembered the research you had also done on villain currently stood above you, it had been reported that he was able to create illusions. This man just kept getting scarier and scarier.

You turned your gaze back to the wiring in front of you. “Well – uh – look, tough break.” You shrugged, trying to not think about the fact you had a powerful, murderous god stood above. “I’m not coming back up till I’m done.”

“Done with what, dare I ask?”

You pursed you lips, glancing up at the villain again, the wind also whipping strands of his hair, though most of it was safely tucked behind his ears. Something in you oddly wanted to tell him, though you weren’t sure why, and you had to wonder if it was some of his weird magic. He was a bad man after all, a murder, a liar, a manipulator. Yet he didn’t want you to fall to your death, a small voice in the back of your mind pointed out. Yet that had only been to save his own skin. Still, it had to say something that he wasn’t such a cold-hearted killer that he murdered people willy-nilly without care for the consequences…

Ok, now you really were just clutching at straws.

You scowled you at Loki. “You’ve got to promise not to tell Tony,” You stipulated, “- or Pepper,” You added. “- or anyone that would in turn tell them.”

“So, keep it a secret?” He summed up, raising an eyebrow at your poor attempt at words.

You thought about this, “Yes.” You nodded.

Loki sighed impatiently. “If I do, will you hurry up?”

“Possibly.” You allowed.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

“Cross your heart?”

“What?” Loki asked, bewildered.

“Cross your heart?” You tried again.

“You want me to cross my heart?” He frowned.

“Yeah, you know… ‘Cross my heart and hope to die..." You hinted, then saw the blank look on his face. “Oh, you don’t know it…” You realised. “Well its –“

Loki a hand over the railing so it was visible to you, opening his mouth to stop you. “I can tell this is going to be long story,” He interrupted, “so could we perhaps not do it whilst you are handing off a ledge?” He questioned.

“Oh – right – yeah.” You nodded, embarrassed, “Well, basically, just swear you’ll maim or kill yourself if you tell anyone.” You summed up quickly.

Loki raised an eyebrow at this. “Seems a bit barbaric...” He mused. “But fine.”

“Good.” You nodded, happily, glancing back at your work. “Hey, could you pass me my screwdriver, I think it’s rolled away.”

Loki seemed to falter at your request, but then glanced around, noticing the small pile of tools and crouching next to it. “This?” He asked.

“No, that's a spanner.” You corrected.

“This?” He asked, picking up another tool.

“No, that’s my blowtorch.” You sighed in exasperation, closing your eyes, and the next thing Loki knew, a tool was being batted towards his foot by a black paw. Loki glanced up at the cat in surprise, staring into the creature’s eyes for a moment before he warily reached for the ‘screwdriver’. He straightened slowly, still watching the beast who just sat there, swishing its tale innocently, watching him back with the same intrigue.

Loki broke away from the blue gaze to lean back over the railing. “This?” He asked down at you.

“What?” You blinked, dazed. “Oh - yeah.” You took a deep breath, your current position making your head spin more than it usually and even a bit nauseous. You reached for the screwdriver nonetheless as Loki handed it down towards you, trying to act normal, but your fingers still felt numb and somehow the tool slipped through your fingers, plummeting towards the earth. “Shit.” You muttered to yourself as both you and Loki watched it fall rapidly out of sight.

“You know, that could be you in a minute.” You heard Loki point out above you.

You glanced up at him. “Gee! Thanks for that cheerful thought!” You snarked. “I should have a spare one somewhere.” You observed and, without being asked, Loki ducked back behind the barrier, this time knowing what he was looking for and not needing the cat’s aid.

You took this one from him more carefully, ensuring you had a firm grip.

“You know, you may well have just impaled someone with that tool.” Loki pointed out breezily, now leaning casually on the rail, looking out over the city, clearly having resigned himself to waiting for you to finish.

“Well, aren’t you just the concerned citizen?” You muttered sarcastically. “But, don’t you worry, I thought these things through,” You reassured him with a smirk. “Directly below is a metal awning, even if it did manage to go through that, it should slow it down enough to reduce any real damage.” You shrugged. Loki raised an eyebrow at you. “Most it'll do is probably make a loud noise and scare some pigeons…” You muttered as you set to work on unscrewing one of the bolts.

Loki lifted his gaze to the cityscape again, the sun directly above them shining off the hundreds of windows. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing then?” He asked out at the horizon.

“Oh right, yeah.” You remembered, glancing up over your shoulder at him as you placed the screwdriver on the very edge of the balcony, posting it safely under the gap at the bottom of the glass pane. “Long story short, I'm hacking the tower.”

He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise. “And this requires dangling yourself off the edge of said  tower?”

“Yep.” You nodded, then gasped as you shocked yourself, sucking your finger. “Stark has all the security in the world on the inside of the tower,” You explained, shaking your injured hand, before reaching for the pliers in your back pocket. “But, once again, he underestimates my determination.” You said, shaking your head as you now cut through a wire.

“So, you’re...?”

“Well, I spent a few days mapping where these panels would be and then deciding the perfect one to gain access to.” You explained, “All it takes is a bit if tinkering…” You muttered, twisting the cut wire back into place. “And.... Done!” You declared, now reaching for your phone in your back pocket. You unlocked it and typed in the necessary codes. “Rudimentary,” You commented at the screen, “but it'll do for now. The rest I can do at a desk.” You murmured, pocketing the device again. You shifted uncomfortably, the rope starting to cut into you now, and began to position yourself to climb back up. “Could you – uh - help me up?” You glanced up at Loki who was still watching you. “As you’re here?” Loki rolled his eyes but dropped his arm down to you anyway, gripping your forearm with one hand and pulling on the rope with the other.

You were halfway up the balcony when you caught movement behind the glass balcony doors. Shit. “Put me down! Put me down!”

“What?” Loki demanded, glancing down at you bewildered.

“Just put me back down!” You whispered urgently. “Now!” Loki furrowed his brow in confusion but lowered you back to your original position anyway.

“What are you doing out here?” You heard a woman’s voice question Loki suspiciously.

Loki straightened up quickly. “Agent…” He muttered turning around and leaning casually back against the barrier to hide you from sight, feeling something brush up against his leg as Kali slipped behind him. “I’m simply enjoying the view…” He drawled lazily.

Natasha Romanoff eyed him disbelievingly. “Right, sure….” She nodded, her eyes flickering out to the city scape and then back to him. “Uh - You haven’t seen your brother, have you?”

You gasped quietly as something heavy fell onto you head, but then a familiar black tail fell in front of your face and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“I'm afraid I have not, agent.” You heard Loki inform the agent politely. “May I suggest the kitchen?”

Romanoff lips twitched with forced humour, but she still was clearly not convinced about Loki’s innocence. Before she could say anything else though, Agent Barton stepped through the balcony doors. “Oh uh –“ He paused taking in the scene in front of him and, where you were hidden, you silently smacked your head against the side the balcony. “Uh-“

“Clint?” Romanoff turned to him with a frown. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, I just came to – uh - find you!” He declared, glancing over at Loki who kept his face blank, then down at Loki’s feet, wondering if you were still hiding.

“Oh?” Natasha asked, sceptically.

“Uh – yeah – do you mind?” Clint asked, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder back into the tower.

“Uh… Sure.” She nodded shortly, glancing back at Loki warily before following Clint back through the glass doors.

Loki watched the two agents leaving, leaning forward and craning his neck slightly to follow them until the floor was completely empty again. Once he was confident they were gone, he turned back to find you already pulling yourself back up the balcony, the cat perched contently on your head. Without you even needing to ask, Loki reached down to help you the rest of the way, his god-like strength making the job a lot easier. Kali made the most of the new bridge this formed and scrambled up Loki’s sleeve before lithely jumping back onto the balcony.

You swung your leg over the railing and dropped onto the marble, slightly out of breath from the climb. “Phew, thank you.” You smiled gratefully up at Loki, straightening out your clothes, “I officially feel safe to say – that was terrifying.” You laughed giddily.

“Perhaps that will stop you from repeating the activity again any time soon.” He muttered down at you.

You glanced up at him, feeling your cheeks warm. “Perhaps.” You smirked. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve had a few too many close calls today, so I think I’d best be getting home.”

Tags for Everything: @beautifulbows924 @arkhamsurviour @sheldonsherlocktony @thatwriterizzy @jemjem-chan @white-chocolate-mocha-fan

Tags for Loki: @hakuoyuki @frostymoon11 @vanyali07 @ernesto-deserved-it

Tags for Cat’s Eyes: @marvelfan18 @lillyrosegirl @sydthekid1518 @markusstraya @cassiopeia-barrow @leleleish

[ask-the-good-creeps]

Laughing Jack Meets The Chesspiece

           One may have said that it was a dark, stormy night, but the phrase has grown old, and was not severe enough for the scene. It was not dark, it was a starless, hopeless night that would stretch on for what seemed like eternity; it was not stormy, it was as though the sky itself had unleashed all of its relentless agony onto the scene it had to watch down below. Swaying and creaking in the wind was a home to nobody yet a house of two. A man who was raging and heavily intoxicated spat curses out to the storm. A girl in the attic played with her toys of bones and blood from the remnants of a bulldog she had beaten to death in front of its young and terrified owner. Under the shaded cover of the forest across the creek, a pair of eyes watched, glinting in each strike of lightning.

           In the attic of the home, another pair of eyes watched the girl play. The owner of the bright silver orbs grinned from the corner of the room, revealing his razor sharp teeth. Not that the girl could see him - no, he had chosen to remain invisible for the time being. He wanted to observe a little longer and decide the perfect form of his game to play with this playmate. This one wouldn't fear him despite his appearance, he knew; they never did, and that was their mistake. He let out a deep, throaty chuckle, as he watched the girl build a small structure with the bones, and he made sure the child heard it.

           The eyes in the woods followed the sound of screams, as did the demon to whom they belonged. She crept closer with caution; much more so than usual. She could tell that there were two in the tattered building, but could almost sense a third. She shook her head. It must have been her imagination. Drifting on light, soundless feet to a cracked window, she parted her lips and let out a low, haunting melody, lasting but a few seconds. Then she backed against the wall, rendering her dark, reflective figure almost unnoticeable. The window was slammed open in rage by the man who held a bottle in his meaty fist.

"WHO'S THERE?!" His scream echoed out in the forest and received no reply. The man growled and slammed the window again, this time shutting it. "Damn wind..." He muttered.

He heard the noise downstairs, the yelling and slamming. He could swear he wasn't the only one of his kind here; for a brief moment he thought he was imagining things...but then again, that's what most people thought when they saw or heard him. He was sure he wasn't the only one stalking this household, but that wasn't his concern right now. His concern was the child headed for the door. He appeared in front of the exit and closed it, laughing to himself as he saw the girl's eyes widen.

"Who are you?" she demanded. Jack hated that; that these sociopathic kids would demand his name like they were entitled to it. He repressed his foul feelings and let an unsettling smile cross his features.

"Why, Tiffany, I'm your forever friend Laughing Jack." he smiled wider, yet it somehow didn't reach his eyes.

The Chesspiece wasn't alone, she was sure of it now. 'I wonder if this has something to do with the child," she thought to herself. 'I'll have to check on her after this." The demon of song knew almost nothing about the horrid man's daughter, but she decided she would find out. She reached out a small, glinting hand to the window, prying it open on its creaking hinges. That was more than enough reason for the man to move to the window again. Meanwhile, Chess glided to the door, slipping in soundlessly. She let the tune carry on in slow time, as the man slowly fell to pieces in his fragile and tattered mind that was now being torn to pieces.

🎵Join in this tale, in this blight, of torture and lies, through the dark, you tarnish in your mind. You wish to escape, but shall not, and now pay the price, of your abusive pride. 🎵

Jack heard the song from downstairs, but it didn't seem to have reached the child's ears. It didn't sound like the voice was climbing the stairs, so once more Jack decided that it didn't concern him. He looked back to little Tiffany, who stood with her hands on her hips and glared at him like the little brat she was.

"Do you want to play a game?" Jack asked.

"What game?" She replied.

"My favorite game," he chuckled darkly. It didn't matter what the child's response was to him; they were going to play. "But first, how about hide and seek? I'll be it, and you have to the count of thirty to hide." Jack stepped away from the door and let it open as he covered his eyes and started to count. He heard the girl run out the door and down the stairs. This was going to be fun.

The man lay dead on the floor. His death had been somewhat dragged out, and Chesspiece had to admit that she enjoyed it. Without a warning, a crash came from upstairs, probably from the man's daughter. She panicked. She had to hide the body, she couldn't let the girl see it! In her rush, she launched the body out of the still open window. Just in time, too, as the girl threw herself out of the stairwell right as she turned back. From up the stairs came a very loud counting noise. Putting two and two together, Chess figured that /something/ had to be wrong, and it involved the girl that was now trying to hide under her dress.

...It wasn't working out very well.

Jack finished his count and yelled out the typical "Ready or not, here I come!" as he left the attic and descended the stairs. He wondered where the child had chosen to hide. Hopefully a good spot; he didn't want this to be too terribly easy. His hopes were dashed as he walked into the livingroom to see the girl clearly 'hiding' under black cloth. The cloth was black as night, just like the woman who wore it. She looked like a walking shadow, until lightning struck and seemed to shine across her skin like reflection on glass for a moment. Jack tilted his head. This must be the other that he sensed earlier. He let his usual grin decorate his face once more.

"Hello, there. I didn't expect to find another haunting this place. Pleased to make your acquaintance." he paused, "Ah, but, I digress. It seems you have something of mine." he gestured to the child on the floor under her gown.

           "Yes, I noticed," her voice was agitated. The child clearly heard this, and leapt out from underneath the dress, only to be caught by a cold hand with a steel grip. "What do you think you're doing? You don't seem to have a problem with invading other people's personal space, so let's see what else you've done." She lifted the girl over her shoulder and marched over to the stairwell, casting the stranger an apologetic look. "I'll only be a minute. I need to see what she's done."

           Jack watched them go, his mouth agape. Nearly three hundred years he had been doing this, and in those three hundred years he had met plenty of other non-human and demonic entities. Not once had one of them had the audacity to walk away with one of his targets like that, especially in the middle of a game. Jack's surprise quickly turned to anger, but he suppressed it. Flying into a rage and striking wasn't a good idea with a person whom he did not know the skills and abilities of, he realized. What had she said as she took the child away? Just a minute? That meant she wasn't going to take out his target herself, didn't it? He pulled a lollipop seemingly out of thin air and subconsciously stuck in in his mouth as he thought.

           Chesspiece could feel the girl writhing around on her shoulder, and changed the density a bit to let her sink so that she could use both hands if necessary. As she stepped up the steep staircase, she wondered about whether it was actually a good idea to leave whoever it was downstairs alone. Upon reaching the doorway, she saw a collapsed structure made of small bones, possibly those of a dog, or a cat. "Now where did you get these from?" She asked the girl in her shoulder. In between screaming and kicking, the terrified yet indignant girl yelled at Chess, "I'll never tell you!" Chess sighed, but then she spotted a notebook with the word "diary" written on it. 'Of course. Why not?' She thought. The lady smiled, the expression sly and amused. "Well then, I guess I'll just have to look through this." The girl panicked at this, and told the truth. Moments later, a VERY angry Chesspiece strode down the stairs, with this girl still in her shoulder.

           Jack waited at the bottom of the steps, his lollipop almost gone and his foot tapping rapidly on the hardwood floor. His patience was wearing thin. He still had other targets to go after; why was he wasting time here? He had half a mind to go up those steps and give this mystery woman a piece of his mind. As he was seriously considering doing just that, he looked up to see them coming back down the stairs...and strangely enough, his target appeared to be melded into the newcomer's upper body. Jack raised a brow at the pair, waiting for an explanation of some sort. The newcomer's anger didn't faze him much, but he kept on guard just in case. Chesspiece practically yanked the girl out of her shoulder, setting her in front of the clown in front of her.

"She's all yours. She doesn't quite fit my victimology, so I have no reason to kill her myself. I assume that's what you're here to do?" Before he could answer, she spoke again. "I could tell by the empathy link, by the way. I usually establish one with all nearby people when I sing. And I can tell that you aren't alright." That was the wrong thing to say to Jack. He let a rueful smile creep across his face as he gripped the girl's arm tightly with his claws, hard enough to draw a bit of blood.

"I'm quite alright, thank you very much, and I've already been delayed here for longer than I'd hoped. So, if you don't mind, I think we'll be on our way, Ms. ...?" Jack at least wanted to know the woman's name. He may ask others about her later.

"Chesspiece," she said. "I'm The Chesspiece. Sorry to invade, I took that too far." Jack was surprised once more at the woman's behavior. Most he knew didn't apologize when they overstepped bounds with him.

"THE Chesspiece, hmm? Well, I'm Laughing Jack. It's only fair that you know my name if I have yours, I suppose." Chesspiece could still feel the empathy bond, as it only broke when either she was far away from the person who was impacted or she broke it consciously. She could feel his confusion, and stifled a laugh.

"Well, maybe I'll see you again. Have fun with your hunts!" She morphed into a human, surprising him once again, and turned to leave.

"Farewell." he called to her as he looked at the child still trying to escape his grip. "Now...where were we?" With that, he and Tiffany disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, off to the carnival of horrors.

[tabletoptrinketsbyjj]

Trinkets, Worthless, 6: These trinket are garbage plain and simple. They would be termed vendor trash or junk loot in video games. They aren’t touched by stray magic or mystery as with regular trinkets, aren’t made from valuable materials and aren’t particularly useful even if they aren’t damaged.

A belt pouch filled with small multicolored glass pebbles

A belt pouch full of fish scales

A hand sized figurine of a house formed of fired clay painted outlandish colours.

A hollow 8x3 inch cylinder made from polished granite.

A horsehair paintbrush so clumped with paint, it’s useless.

A knife and fork carved from a giant's ribs

A large brass key with worn teeth. A strip of red-coloured string hangs from one end.

A large bunch of similar keys that  fit various locks. One key (Of a different style from the rest) is small and rusty.

A large decorative pillow

A large flat pebble with a smaller pebble nestled inside it

---Keep reading for 90 more trinkets.

---Note: The previous 10 items are repeated for easier rolling on a d100.

A belt pouch filled with small multicolored glass pebbles

A belt pouch full of fish scales

A hand sized figurine of a house formed of fired clay painted outlandish colours.

A hollow 8x3 inch cylinder made from polished granite.

A horsehair paintbrush so clumped with paint, it’s useless.

A knife and fork carved from a giant's ribs

A large brass key with worn teeth. A strip of red-coloured string hangs from one end.

A large bunch of similar keys that  fit various locks. One key (Of a different style from the rest) is small and rusty.

A large decorative pillow

A large flat pebble with a smaller pebble nestled inside it

A large fossilized egg

A large piece of shell from a dragon’s egg

A large tin canister filled with dozens of grey misshapen goblin candies. They are as hard as a rock and taste like scummy pond water drunk from a dirty ashtray.

A leather scroll tube crudely painted bright blue. It is stoppered with a leather bung that clips into the place. The bung has been painted red.

A leather strap tied with ten assorted predator's claws

A length of black cloth with eye holes cut in it, created a crude mask.

A length of string that looks to have been snapped in half and re-tied multiple times.

A long braid of blond hair wrapped around a slender, whittled stick of white wood protected by a scrap of red-hued silk.

A loosely-coiled spring painted in the hues of a rainbow

A map of the continent with a large patch of ocean torn out

A metal comb missing all its tines.

A metal flask, decorated with engravings of a paladin fighting a dragon. Although it is still sealed, whatever liquid was inside has gone sour and tastes foul.

A mummified raven claw

A nine-toothed cog made from cheap tin

A nondescript brown hemp hood with crudely cut eye and mouth holes. The hood looks like it has been fashioned from a small sack. A splatter of dried blood covers the front.

A notepad full of bizarre scribbling detailing strange events, odd occurrences and murdered people. It is barely legible and almost entirely incoherent.

A padlock made of wax with no key

A page of hastily-scribbled mathematical formulas that do not balance out or contain any kind of context or explanation.

A pair of child sized steel scissors

A pair of desiccated human hands, wrapped in barbed wire

A pair of shoes so small, they must be for a baby. They look like they’ve never been worn.

A pair of torn purple stockings

A partially burnt family tree on a canvas sheet.

A partially mended pair of boots along with needle and thread.

A piece of bark carved with a gnarled face

A piece of paper with a grid of 81 squares drawn on it, some containing numbers

A plumb bob that points toward the sky.

A polished apple of curious black color

A polished skull (Its top removed) filled with foul smelling incense

A poorly mummified cat

A pouch containing four links of bloodstained chain ending in a single bloody manacle. Close examination reveals hairs stuck in the dried blood on the manacle. A snapped off key fills the manacle’s lock.

A pouch containing a variety of small finger bones clearly “harvested” from a variety of different creatures. Each is in pristine condition, all the skin and tissue having been boiled away.

A pouch made of flesh, with a sinew drawstring

A preserved dead raven.

A preserved eyeball attached to a spindly eye-stalk; the nerves twitch occasionally

A preserved pair of ears that look to be torn off a goblin.

A preserved square of tattooed skin

A pulsing seed pod that is always warm to the touch.

A rabbit’s foot, dyed purple.

A ragged pair of bright green trousers. The seat of the trousers is missing, all that remains is a jagged hole clearly made by something large…with teeth

A random scattering of gears and rivets.

A ransom note for an unknown personage

A razor-sharp piece of metal wrapped in a bloody bandage

A right arm broken off from a statue

A ring of keys for forgotten locks

A ring of metal with strange symbols carved into it that glow randomly.

A ripped yellow silk shirt, with a bloody cuff, rolled into a tight ball.

A rock with a patch of curious purple moss

A rose stem with the thorns still on, but all the petals plucked.

A rotten burlap bag filled with three elven skulls

A scold's bridle.

A scrap of animal hide with bizarre markings

A scrap of crumbled parchment bearing the name of a half-dozen locals.

A scrap of parchment filled with deranged ramblings about “the lord’s vengeance”, the “end of all things” and a “blood sacrifice”.

A scrap of wood engraved with half of a ship’s name

A scrawled bill from a shady fortune teller.

A scrimshawed human femur

A scroll case and scroll scribed with an unfinished spell

A scroll case that appears to have been crafted from a giant's arm bone. Inside is a small strip of vellum that would seem to tie a scroll shut. Along its scarlet-dyed length are markings like a map, but most are faded away

A scroll containing a spell that seems to have no effect

A set of brown and green leather juggling balls

A set of iron spurs

A severed finger that’s still wearing a tarnished brass ring that cannot be removed

A shard of flint with a decorative dragon carving

A shard of glass that changes color depending on how it is held up to the light.

A shard of porcelain decorated with tiny painted flowers.

A sharp dagger, a pile of wood shavings and a partially carved chunk of wood. The carving is crude and unfinished; it might represent a bird, but then again it might not.

A shattered piece of minotaur horn

A sheet of paper, blank except for a dot in the middle and the words “You are here.”

A shrunken head of a human child

A shrunken human head with buttons sewn over the eyes

A single acorn formed of pyrite.

A single polished knucklebone wrapped in a scrap of thin, red cloth.

A small pouch filled with dozens of multi-colored wooden beads whose paint is chipped and fading.

A small pouch full of oddly-dented, painted metal disks with jagged edges

A straw effigy of a prominent local. Parts of it have been singed with fire.

A small tin flask filled with terrible tasting whiskey

A cheap pulp pamphlet on how to train cobra snakes to dance to flute music.

A crude brooch of Orcish design

A warped oaken quarterstaff that is all but unusable

A pair of rusty manacles

A pouch holding three dozen copper coat buttons

A poorly lacquered elk thighbone

A worn bear pelt that has evidently spent many long years as a rug

A ceramic jar of various species of dried seeds. Further inspection show that none of them are edible or viable for growing.

A dented tin crown

A small wooden mermaid statue that requires finishing touches

A rug made of winter wolf hide that has seen better days

A carefully detailed drawing of a halfling toe.

A large, steel padlock without a matching key.

[beccalovesdarling]

Reach for the Stars Part 4

I have achieved the balcony scene I desired when I started this thing. I’m tempted to let it end here especially since I’ve not really got much of a response since the first part. I also kinda have an idea for a time travel fic that I would like to start on. However, I go on vacay in a week and will be super busy. I’ll probably be silent for about 2 weeks or more. 

Part One

Part Three

Chat bounded across the rooftops cautious of the slippery tiles from the rain shower the night before. When he got to Marinette’s house, he was unsurprised to see her on her balcony on her pink plastic lounger. Unlike last night, he didn’t watch her like a creep, he immediately landed on the metal railing and announced himself. “Princess,” his demand for attention was a singsong.

The girl looked up from her chaise and snapped her sketchpad closed. “Chat,” she deadpanned. She had obviously just showered. Her hair hung limp and wet around her shoulders. His heighten senses caught a light whiff of spices and coconut. Her face was no longer red like it had been earlier, but her lips were chapped. She tended to bite her lip and he wondered if she had been holding in her sobs to keep her parents from worrying about her.

He wasn’t sure how to proceed from here. Chat had expected her to be akumatized, but she was just as normal as she had been at lunch. Not that she was normal, she was way too extraordinary to be deemed as normal. She was like super sweet and talented and-

“What are you doing here, Chat?” She huffed as she stood from her chaise and approached where he was still crouched on her railing.

The black cat shook his head. “I heard you were upset and I came to check on you.” The explanation, as true as it was, sounded lame to him. “But, you look fine, so I’ll be going. Other damsels to save and all that.” He glanced into her eyes and found the starlight that normally shown there to be diminished. Like the star had reached its lifespan and had combusted.

Marinette cocked a brow at him. “How’d you hear about that?”

Herp-a-derp. Chat.exe has stopped working. Please contact system admin-

“Adrien told me?” He suggested to her.

She pursed her chapped lips. “Well, don’t worry about it, Chat. Everything’s fine. I just…” She sighed heavily and ruffled a hand through her limp bangs. “I’m struggling to wrap my mind around some stuff and I may have freaked out a little.” She sighed heavily and turned away from him. She drifted across the balcony back to her lounger.

The cat slunk down from his spot, moving to her side. “You want to talk about it?” She plopped onto her lounger and began to pull into herself like she had done earlier. Chat reached out for her as he rounded the chaise to face her. His hands gently took hers, their fingers intertwining. “Hey,” he whispered. “Don’t shut me out anymore.” His voice was glass and she held the power to shatter it. He squeezed onto the plastic chaise before her, his added weight causing it to groan pitifully. Marinette looked up at him with wide, scared eyes. “If someone’s forcing you-“

“It’s not like that,” she cut him off. Tearing her eyes away from him, her cheeks began to stain pink. “How much did Adrien tell you?” Marinette muttered.

Chat thought about how to best simplify his own thoughts. And it was a struggle. “He told me…” He started slowly. “He told me that you were in an arranged marriage. And that you wanted out.” Her eyes darted back to his and he could see the panic swirling within their oceanic depths. “He also said that he wanted to help you. That he didn’t want to see you suffer.” Chat looked down at their linked hands. His thumbs stroked her knuckles soothingly. The hero drew in a shaky breath. “Adrien cares a lot about you,” he admitted softly. “But, he doesn’t know what to do.”

Marinette squeezed his hands and it temporarily caused Chat’s movements to stop. His cat ears drooped as he looked back up at her. “That makes two of us,” she responded tenderly. “I don’t know what to do either. Because I really like A-,” her voice stuck in her throat for a breath or two. “I like Adrien. And I can’t accept his help with this. I have to stop liking him. That’s why…”

She closed her eyes. Her face scrunched in like she had tasted a sour candy. “I lied to him. I lied to everyone.” Marinette admitted. “And I shouldn’t have done that, but I have to put some space between Adrien and me. And I panicked. I blurted out a lie and then Chloe started spinning in into this big thing and then Alya texted me what she said this afternoon and-"

“Princess, breathe.”

Marinette stopped talking. Pitifully, she looked away. “You can tell Adrien I’m fine.” She lapsed into silence then as her bottom lip was sucked into her mouth. Chat could see her white teeth latching onto it and scratching at a piece of skin hanging.

He was miffed that she had lied to him. But right then, his irritation didn’t matter. Something was upsetting her and there was no way she could have faked the entire spiel from lunch. Alya was right when she said Marinette could not improve. She struggled to read from scripts. For all her other talents, she just could not act. He had thought it cute when she had tried to step in during Nino’s film. She was the silent type of artist. She drew and created. She used her hands and the callouses his fingers bumped as he held her hands gave that away.

Marinette kept things inside. But she always tried so hard to help others. And he loved that about her.

And he wasn’t going to give her up. His earlier promises be damned.

He loved this girl.

His fingers slowly left her hands and cupped her tender face. His thumbs softly pulled her lip from her mouth. His princess blinked up at him. “It’s gonna be ok, Mari,” he breathed. “I promise.”

Her lips tasted like coconut and mint. This close he could make out the scents that hovered around her. She was lavender, chocolate, and pumpkin spice. Chat’s lips moved furiously against hers as he sought to convey his affection. The tiny girl clung to his shoulders and bumped his nose with hers as she sought comfort. Her tiny gasps and pants fueled him.

 Marinette gazed down into her cup of tea. “Are you…sure? I mean, there’s no other way?”

Fu nodded. “Ladybug and Chat Noir are soul mates. The only way for you to reach full potential is if you stop pushing him away.”

Her throat constricted. “And…what if I want someone else?”

“You must let this other person go, Ladybug.”

Buy me a coffee??

[out-villained]

caffeine challenge

There’s a boy whose voice is a siren song to my flowers; under his tone they bloom more beautifully than ever before.

He first wandered into the tiny shop on a rainy morning, as the succulents protested where they were being dripped on, and he brushed rain-damp brown hair from his eyes and sang a lullaby to the insomniac moonflowers until they rested as they were supposed to, and then he smiled at me. He had no umbrella, he explained, and hoped he could wait out the rain here.

I did my best to ask why he ignored the cafe next door in favor of my over-crowded shop and again he smiled and took a seat and the tulips stretched to reach him, petals brushing the back of his neck. I mouthed an apology, batted them away until they grew as usual, and he let out a little chuckle at my tone of reprimand. When I asked his name I was met with yet another curl of his lips; it seemed all he did was smile or sing, a hum in his throat even as I continued moving the cacti away from the leaky window, and he did sit there until the rain let up.

He was strange, but a good strange, a familiar strange, the way the glassblower on 4th Street feels, and he slipped through my wards like silk as he left after an hour of companionable silence, the violets shivering as he whispered goodbye.

A month later he returned, as I breathed life into a dying sprig of rosemary (a favorite of mine, she produced the best tea), and he waved me off as he wandered, though I watched out of the corner of my eye, still wary of this comfortable oddity of a boy. He complimented the chrysanthemums, hummed to the honeysuckle, and when I finished pruning a trailing vine of ivy he asked me if I wanted to get coffee with him and the pink roses blushed pinker to match my cheeks.

There was no need for words, not with him; he understood my fluttering hands as a yes and hardly gave me time to react before linking his hand with mine and moving toward the door. The ripple that cooled my fingers startled a gasp out of me, and he smiled with a sparkle in his blue eyes.

He likes his coffee bitter, says he gets enough sweet from flowers, and laughed at the over-sugared concoction I tugged my hand away to order.

The barista, a favorite of mine, wrote a tiny congratulations on the side of my cup—he was the first to see it, and his laugh only got louder when I buried my face in my hands, and it was a wonder the fake flower on the table didn’t perk up at the sound of his voice.

Two weeks later I tramped my way down to 4th Street and into a shop with floor-to-ceiling glass windows, and a girl with flaming red hair called hello with sparks in her fingers as she waited for a little glass dragon to cool. Essa’s wards always did sting a little, and I did my best not to fan her flames as she began to babble at me about the strange woman in black Dior who gave her a strand of pearls in payment for what was really just a bauble.

When the door opened behind me the wards should have sparked, but instead they rippled in the same way my fingers had, and I turned to see blue eyes and a tiny smile he seemed to reserve just for me. I fumbled my way through an explanation as Essa asked how we knew each other, but he knew better than to stop my hands from getting through their words and instead turned just in time to catch the blown-glass cat leaping from the shelf as I grew more flustered, as though he’d known what the reaction would be.

After that Essa stopped asking questions but disappeared into the back and returned with the pots I’d asked her for, the ones that drain just the perfect amount of water, said she tested them with the freesia just now sprouting.

I asked how she’d known they were working and she glanced, just barely, toward him and he flashed that ubiquitous smile and refused to let me carry the pots so that, he said, I would be able to talk on the way back to the shop.

Mine isn’t a language I thought he would know, but he replied as though he did, as though the air itself interpreted my words and whispered them into his ear, and the freesia bloomed as he lilted his way through responses and delightful, innocuous jokes until we reached the shop.

Three weeks after that he entered the shop to ask me if I wanted to go to a museum with him; it ended up being a botanic garden, and when I wondered he said it’s all the art either of us will ever need.

He slipped away just before we were planning to leave, and when he returned he presented me with a small bouquet of hyacinths. I knew what those meant even before they moved like a kiss beneath my fingertips, because I know the myths.

And I knew what he was telling me, in a way that means more to him than speaking, because his voice is a siren song I can resist just as much as my flowers can.

But his kisses are even sweeter than the hyacinths’ were, and that little smile became that much more special then.

Soon after we make it a regular thing to visit the parks around the city and he sings until his voice goes hoarse and we go get coffee, leaving a freshly-rainbowed garden behind us with my hands coated in pollen that dusts itself off my palms as I chatter.

We never do agree on bitter or sweet coffee, but we do agree on blueberry muffins, so we split one and laze our way back to the shop to ripple our way through the wards and wake up the moonflowers that like to oversleep. Any damaged stems or petals in need of pruning are fixed with a quick nursery rhyme that makes it painless, and then I’ll rap on the counter to distract him from his focus on our dahlias.

My name for him is combined with the word for music in my language, but more often I call him something combined with poetry, because that looks both like something blooming and giving someone a piece of your heart, as he’s done for me.

He calls me his flower, because with him, caressed by the waves of his river-current voice, I bloom more beautifully than ever before.

[wondersgay]

Take Me Out

Ao3 Link

AU where Kara never became Supergirl, Lena is an assassin and Kara is a reporter who always seems to know far too much.  

As Lena’s assassination attempts drag on (Kara is seemingly indestructible) and on she gets to know Kara and starts falling for her. No longer wanting to kill her, Lena’s assassination attempts become more contrived and she struggles to maintain her act, knowing that if anyone were to find out the truth it would put both her and Kara in mortal danger.

Inspired by this and this

Throughout her life, Lena had never taken any task lightly. Nothing less than perfect was expected from her, so that it what she delivered. This task was no different. Although some would call it a waste of time, Lena liked to observe her targets for a period beforehand. She memorised their daily routine, analysing when they were most vulnerable, ensuring she got a quick and clean shot and leaving her with a flawless record – not that that was something she was particularly proud of.  

This mission began like any other: a thin folder, containing the minimum amount of information needed, was silently handed over. She had enough experience to know exactly what this meant. She calmly took the folder, giving no more than a slight tilt of her head, but as soon as she opened it she could tell this wasn’t going to be like any of her previous missions.

In the past, her targets had largely been powerful rich white men, pictured in plain suits with a stern look on their face. When she opened this folder, she was greeted by a laughing blonde girl in a pastel pink cardigan and glasses. Aside from the fact she was cute, one of the first things that Lena noticed was how genuine this girl was. Lena had seen enough fake smiles in her life to know that this wasn’t one of them. This already set her apart from Lena’s usual type, who often seemed to drain life from the room, whereas this girl radiated sunshine and happiness. Lena tore her eyes from the picture and began to read the information. She was called Kara Danvers and was a reporter at CatCo Worldwide Media, having previously been Cat Grant’s assistant. The information offered no explanation for why she was Lena’s next target, but Lena had learnt early on not to ask questions.  

–

Lena began her observation the next day. Finding Kara wasn’t difficult. It just took a quick internet search to discover her Instagram account which showed that she had a tight group of friends who she clearly had a lot of fun with. It took a while to scroll through her hundreds of photos, but they had provided a very useful insight into her routines and habits. Lena managed to pick up some information from almost every picture, which allowed her to come up with a pretty decent prediction of where she would be that morning.  

As predicted, she first caught sight of her when she left Noonan’s carrying a cup holder, containing four lattes. She looked even more stunning in real life. Lena almost let her get distracted, captivated by hear beauty and possibly staring a bit too obviously. Kara caught her eye and she froze, wholly unprepared for questioned, but Kara just smiled widely at her and she and she took a deep sigh of relief, almost forgetting to smile back. She watched as she walked down the road. She decided not to risk following her, instead catching her again at CatCo.

–

The CatCo building was impressive. It seemed that Cat Grant had an affinity for glass, giving the building a much more open feel than her families company, Luthor-Corp, which was shrouded in secrecy. She approached the front desk and the receptionist looked up.

“How can I help?” they asked almost robotically.

“I’m looking to apply for a job here. I’d like to look around the building first.”

“Name?”

“Diana Thorul.” By now using an alias came more naturally than her real name. It has been years since she’d heard her own name out loud. The receptionist quickly typed it into their computer, then handed her a visitor pass.

“Welcome to CatCo, Miss Thorul.” Lena nodded and said a quick thank you as she took the pass.

It didn’t take long to see Kara. In fact, almost as soon as she stepped into the main part of the building, she zoomed around the corner, seemingly in a rush and not noticing Lena until she was about five inches away from her. She managed to stop in almost superhuman time and ended up only a couple of millimetres away from Lena.  

“Oh! I am so sorry” she began, holding out her free hand to make sure she didn’t fall. As she looked up at Lena, her eyes widened. “I saw you at Noonan’s this morning!” she said happily.

“Oh yes, and I saw you running out with your hands piled up with lattes. How many was it? Five?” she joked lightly. She wasn’t a found of small talk but she found that it was an essential skill for finding out information without arousing suspicion. Kara chuckled.  

“Four” she corrected. “I always like to go there in the morning and it seems mean to come back with only one for myself, so I get some for other people too. I actually have a spare one today, if you’d like it.” She held out the latte slightly in front of her. Lena found herself smiling as she saw the warmth in Kara’s face. It’s seems she really was as sweet as Lena’s initial impression of her, begging further questions as to why anyone would want her dead. Suddenly Kara’s face seemed to switch to a confused look, which was equally endearing. “Do you work here? I haven’t seen you around before?”

“I’m looking to possibly apply soon. I thought I’d get a good look at what my work environment would be look before I made my decision.” Kara smiled at her excitedly, somewhat resembling a puppy who had just heard someone say walk.  

“That’s great! Good luck if you do decide to apply. I bet you’d love it here!”  

“Thank you” Lena replied, genuinely pleased by her enthusiasm. Even if it was for a lie, it was still more than she’d ever got from anyone else.  

“Oh, I really have to get going now.” She frowned briefly. “I’m already a bit behind as it is. It was really nice meeting you…”  

“Diana.”

“Diana. That’s a nice name. I’m Kara by the way. Good luck again if you apply” she said before shoving the latte into Lena’s hands and rushing off. Lena kept her eyes fixed on her until she disappeared around the corner and out of sight. It’s for the job, she attempted to convince herself, absolutely no other reasons. She decided that it would be best to avoid and future conversations with this target, keeping to observing her from a distance. Become close to a target was perhaps the worst thing you could do in her line of work.  

–

Kara’s day began hectically. There was a slight mishap at Noonan’s, which mean that she got out a little later than usual. She didn’t blame the barista, of course. They couldn’t have known the machine was going to suddenly leak boiling water all over the floor. Kara immediately jumped up to offer her assistance. The barista graciously accepted, looking at the long line of customers that where still waiting. While everyone seemed to be looking elsewhere Kara subtly used her superspeed to get the job done quickly. She knew that Alex would lecture her for hours if she found out that she used her powers for everyday activities, but having such abilities as hers, it was difficult to resist sometimes. It wasn’t just for convenience (although that was undeniably one of the reasons), but her powers were part of her that she was forced to supress, so using them occasionally allowed her to feel free, like she was being who she really was. After all, Kara Danvers wasn’t a real person. She was an illusion, created to divert people from the truth. The bubbly personality, kindness and the desire to help others, that was all her, but that wasn’t all of her. Kara Danvers is just a fraction of Kara Zor-el, the rest… is a burden that she has to hide.  

“All sorted!” she declared as she wiped up the last piece of water. The barista smiled gratefully at her and quickly whipped up the lattes she’d ordered. They apologised for keeping her as they handed over, to which Kara assured them she was happy to help.  

As she rushed out the shop she saw a beautiful woman standing alone just outside the door. Had she not been in such a rush, she would have stopped to say hello, but instead she just gave her a smile and hoped to see her again soon.

She arrived at CatCo just one minute late. She breathed a sigh of relief she reached her desk, hoping that no one had noticed her absence in the past minute. It didn’t take long for the first three of her lattes to disappear, gratefully accepted by stressed CatCo employees. She was about to settle down to work when a suddenly a loud shout disturbed her peace.  

“KARA!” she winced as she heard her name. Although she was no longer Cats assistant, she still seemed to insist on her being within shouting range most of the time, especially when her newest assistant got something wrong. At least now she called the right name. Kara winced as she heard the shout, wondering what could have gone wrong so early on in the day. She took a deep breath in and headed into Cat’s office.

“You called Miss Grant.” Cat looked up. There were large bags under her eyes and it looked as if her hair hadn’t been brushed for at least two days. “You look awful!” Kara said sympathetically. She knew things weren’t going well for CatCo at the moment, but she had been so busy wrapped up in keeping her own job that she hadn’t noticed the toll it had taken on Cat.  

“Yes, I have seen a mirror” she replied dryly. “Now Kara, do you know why there isn’t a coffee sitting on my desk right now?”  

“Umm… no Miss Grant.” She swallowed nervously.  

“Drop the Miss Grant, I’m not your boss anymore.” Kara nodded quickly. “It’s because my new assistant is incompetent.” She put emphasis on each syllable of ‘incompetent’. “Tell…”  

“Amelia” Kara offered. Cat just rolled her eyes.

“Tell her that if there isn’t a coffee on my desk in the next 10 minutes then she can say goodbye to her job.”  

“I have a latte here, if you’d like it Miss- Cat.” She held out the final latte. Cat’s face crinkled in disgust.

“Oh no, I need something much stronger than that.” She waved her hand. “Go find my assistant. Chop chop.” Kara nodded again and almost ran out of Cat’s office, hoping to find Amelia quickly. She felt a wave of sympathy for her. She had made only a small mistake, but with all the problems CatCo was facing, Cat’s patience was running thin. Kara would honestly be surprised if any assistant lasted longer than a day.  

After asking around a bit, the general consensus seemed to be that she was fetching some copies that Cat had asked for, so Kara started making her way to the copy room as soon as possible. From her years spent at CatCo, she knew the building like the back of her hand, so she allowed her mind to drift elsewhere as she walked, from thinking about the beautiful girl she’d seen that morning to worrying over what seemed like CatCo’s impending doom. Lost in thought, she didn’t notice that she was about to barge into someone until she was practically touching her. With a little help from her superspeed, she managed to stop just before knocking her over. She started to apologise profusely but as soon as she looked up she froze. It was the woman from earlier. She knew she had to get going but she couldn’t resist striking up a conversation with her. Though the conversation was short lived, she had managed to discover that this woman’s name was Diana and that she might be applying for a job at CatCo. She smiled at the thought of them someday working together, but she quickly snapped out of it, reminding herself that there were far more important things to think about than a woman she’d just met.  

As suspected, Amelia was in the copy room, attempting to gather a large pile of paper into her hands.  

“Amelia!” Kara said as she poked her head around the door. Amelia turned around and widened her eyes, clutching the pile of paper tightly. “Hey, sorry to disturb you but Miss Grant is waiting for her coffee and… well… people who keep her waiting often don’t end up so well.” She gave her a sympathetic smile. Amelia’s face transformed to utter horror.  

“Oh no… Oh no. I was so busy getting these copies that she wanted, I completely forgot. Oh no this is awful.”  

“No, no, it’s ok” Kara assured immediately, stepping forwards and placing her hand on Amelia’s shoulder. “Pass me the copies. I’ll make sure they get to her. I’ve asked Tony to make a coffee ready. He’ll be waiting with it outside Miss Grant’s office. Just head over there and you’ll be fine.” Amelia’s face lit up. She placed the copies carefully in Kara’s arms.

“Thank you so much, Kara. You’re a life saver. I can’t believe I’ve already messed up after less than an hour.”  

“It’s no problem. I know how stressed everyone is at the moment and with tension running so high mistakes are bound to be made.” She gave her a wonderful smile.  

“You’re the best” Amelia said gratefully before running out of the room. Kara prayed that she would make it in time.  

She managed to get the copies to Cat without her realising that they were ever missing. Finally, she managed to sit down at her desk and begin to get some of her own work done, but she barely lasted two minutes before she was faced by yet another disturbance. She didn’t notice at first, but when she glanced up from her laptop, she saw Snapper towering over her desk.  

“Do you care to explain where you were five minutes ago?”  

“Oh! I was helping Miss Grant.” Snapper did not look impressed, in fact quite the opposite.

“Well you can tell Cat that you don’t work for her anymore. I’m your boss and you do work for me. Not her. Understand?” Kara nodded meekly.

“Yes Sir.”  

“Now I have an assignment now if you’d actually like to do your job.” Kara grinned. Snapper still seemed reluctant to give Kara assignments. Instead she’d often have to find her own stories and persuade Snapper that they were good enough to make it in. Snapper gestured towards his office and Kara got up at once and followed happily, hoping this assignment could help take her mind off all the stresses of CatCo. Things were looking dark for CatCo right now. It hadn’t got any better since Cat was forced to downsize the tribune, but Kara knew Cat and she knew that no matter what she wouldn’t give up on the empire she had worked so hard to build. There was a light at the end of this tunnel and Kara knew they were going to make it there.  

[amaizemag]

I spend too much time on online stores browsing their endless pages looking at all the beautiful clothes they have to offer. I never end up buying anything though because 1. I have way too many clothes already and 2. The prices are always too high! Here is a wishlist/style inspiration list of things I have been LOVING this month (and will be loving this whole year). Now, these aren’t things that I’m telling you to splurge your money on (believe me I don’t even have the $$ for that), but just ideas of things that I’d like to wear and aesthetics I’d like to explore! 

Yellow, lots and lots of yellow - I don’t know where or how this obsession came about, but I am in love with yellow. If I see something yellow I will immediately make a beeline for it in hopes that it is something I fall in love with. I have wanted a yellow raincoat for as long as I can remember and hope that I can stumble upon one in the thriftstore soon, but up until then I’ll just keep admiring this yellow jacket from topshop. I also really love little doodle prints, and this yellow printed babydoll dress is so perfect and definitely something I’d love to add to my wardrobe. I’d also like to step outside my comfort zone with my handbag choice. I got a nice mustard—yep, no surprise there—bag that I took everywhere with me in 2016. It was different for me to explore colour with a bag because I was always one to get a plain black bag that would go with everything. However, despite being yellow, I would find myself reaching for that bag almost every time I was going out. I think that this yellow bag from Zara is adorable, and it’s also got my zodiac on it! You can’t go wrong with something that has your zodiac on it. 

Ruffles, funky sleeves, and funky prints - I got a ruffled sweater on boxing day which everyone found ugly but I for some reason thought was the cutest sweater ever. I definitely need more ruffled pieces, like this ruffled denim shirt in my wardrobe because it’s something I’ve never really worn before! I’m also super into belle-sleeved tops and this floral printed top and star printed top have the perfect combination of funky prints with funky sleeves and... ruffles! The animal printed coat and cat printed shirt are also wardrobe staples—if something has cats on it I will be ALL over it! When I was younger I use to have a lot of animal printed things, leopard print especially. But as I got older I found it to be tacky and just not my style. I’ve recently grown to love it again and definitely need to add some fun animal printed pieces to my wardrobe. 

Embroidery! - I absolutely love the delicate detail that goes into embroidery. This embroidered denim jacket and embroidered shirt have it all! I think this year I’d like to try and DIY some of my own embroidered pieces, so I’ll be in search at the thriftstore for some cute blouses and jeans that could use a little oopmh!

and lastly... 

Things I don’t know how to categorize - I threw this Copenhagen shirt in here because when I saw it I knew I had to include it. If you read our Movie Monday about Copenhagen you’ll know that it has a special place in our hearts and a place we both really, really want to visit! I also feel like I’ve never owned a proper pair of heels to wear out on a somewhat daily basis and I think that these Zara heels are the perfect height and the perfect style to make any outfit you have a little more chic!

Now that you have read the stylish Tahreem’s amazing fashion explanation above, which included links on where to buy her fav pieces and a super cute mood board, its time to dive into my not so well explained, eccentric style that includes no links at all but some wicked inspo if I do say so myself! 

Now I am no Tahreem, I do not have a perfect aesthetic or an eye for what’s great in stores RIGHT NOW.

As for my style right now its really a mixture of everything! I honestly love anything sparkly, shimmery, embroidered, colourful, etc… really THE TACKIER the better in my opinion!! I am always being influenced by 70’s fashion of course, as is everyone, but I like to put little twists on it by pairing wackier pieces/more preppy pieces with the laid back hippy style of that era! 

Right now I’m LOVING funky socks under open toed shoes, glitter on faces, flared pants, and lots and lots of TULLE!!! Basically I want the look of a 70’s, disco, princess, that also maybe has a summer house in Paris? She might also drink sparkling cider in a champagne glass instead of real alcohol (its better for your skin) while sitting on her yellow sofa covered in thrifted knitwear ( based on a true story).

If you know me, you know that I rarely ever buy from fast fashion brands anymore, so most of my clothes are from the lovely thrift shops I find around me! I personally think you can find the most unique pieces by playing scavenger hunt in your local thrift shop! All the looks above can most DEFINITELY be re-created at your local thrift stores, which is perfect for the environment and your wallet!!

We hope you enjoyed that lil spiel and found some inspiration for your own wardrobe!

Stay Stylish,

Tahreem and Alycia xx

[fromringtoveil]

#150 - Weddings in Wonderland

Wedding themes can be so fun.  We've come up with a few that we think are perfect for the upcoming year.  We've included all the things from invitations to exits! 

Alice and Wonderland  

You can go 2 ways with an Alice in Wonderland themed wedding.  Soft pastels with a tea party theme or go the Queen of Hearts way and make it bold with black, white and red. 

Tea Party 

Pre Wedding 

Invitations - You are invited to a tea party! 

Ceremony

Dress, hair, makeup

Pale Blue 

Top hat for guys 

Bows 

Three-piece suit 

Boutonnieres with watches or keys 

Pocket watches 

Décor and flowers

Again blue 

White 

Soft colors 

Tea party setting with books, tea cups possibly hanging 

Lots of lights 

Clocks  

Signage with sayings from the book 

Cheshire cat smiles 

Hats  

Keys 

Seating

Perfect place for loungers, couches, ornate chairs.   

Reception 

Food and drink and cake 

Cupcakes in teacups or on saucers, maybe decorated to look like mushrooms 

Drip cakes with incorporated blues 

Tea Cakes 

Finger sandwiches 

Traditional tea party foods 

Bite-sized 

Décor and flowers - Same as above 

Seating chart

Keys or watches with name tags 

Tea bags (fake)  

Little bottles 

Entertainment -  local band that fits theme 

Exit

Hot air balloon

Balloon drop 

Queen of Hearts 

Pre Wedding 

Invitations - Has to be a playing card  

Ceremony 

Dress, hair, makeup 

Kick up what was mentioned earlier 

Dramatic makeup 

Go glam and very bold 

White dress, red roses 

Crown/tiara 

Black white checks 

Make things out of playing cards, ie. boutonnieres 

Décor and flowers 

Red, white, and black 

Red Roses, white roses 

Cards everywhere 

Chess pieces 

Playing Card Suits 

Seating - Typical with untypical décor, red, black, suits 

 Reception 

Food and drink and cake - Castle dinner, medieval times. Large meals with rich food and fruit. 

Décor and flowers 

Same as above 

Get dramatic, black or red tablecloths.   

Bold table settings 

 Seating chart - cards, all hearts, of course 

Entertainment – stringed quartet 

Quotes: 

“Curiouser and curiouser!” 

(Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Chapter 2) 

“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked. “Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.” “How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice. “You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.” 

(Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Chapter 6)   

“Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?” “That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,” said the Cat. “I don’t much care where–” said Alice. “Then it doesn’t matter which way you go,” said the Cat. “–so long as I get SOMEWHERE,” Alice added as an explanation. “Oh, you’re sure to do that,” said the Cat, “if you only walk long enough.” 

(Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Chapter 6)   

‘I could tell you my adventures–beginning from this morning,’ said Alice a little timidly: ‘but it’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.’ 

(Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Chapter 10)   

“Who are YOU?” said the Caterpillar. This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I–I hardly know, sir, just at present– at least I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.” 

(Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Chapter 5)   

Alice laughed. “There’s no use trying,” she said: “one can’t believe impossible things.” “I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen. “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” 

(Through the Looking Glass, Chapter 5)   

The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he said was, “Why is a raven like a writing-desk?” “Come, we shall have some fun now!” thought Alice. “I’m glad they’ve begun asking riddles. — I believe I can guess that,” she added aloud. “Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?” said the March Hare. “Exactly so,” said Alice. “Then you should say what you mean,” the March Hare went on. “I do,” Alice hastily replied; “at least–at least I mean what I say–that’s the same thing, you know.” “Not the same thing a bit!” said the Hatter. “You might just as well say that ‘I see what I eat’ is the same thing as ‘I eat what I see’!” “You might just as well say,” added the March Hare, “that ‘I like what I get’ is the same thing as ‘I get what I like’!” “You might just as well say,” added the Dormouse, who seemed to be talking in his sleep, “that ‘I breathe when I sleep’ is the same thing as ‘I sleep when I breathe’!” 

(Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Chapter 7)   

“Tut, tut, child!” said the Duchess. “Everything’s got a moral, if only you can find it.” 

(Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Chapter 9) 

Link to more: http://fromringtoveil.com/AIW  

We have another themed show planned "Sport Themed weddings".  Look for that next month! 

***Listener Question*** 

Hello! I recently got engaged and found your podcasts and started listening and find them VERY useful. I’ve only gotten through a few episodes, but I am wondering if you have any planners/notebooks/binders in mind to help stay organized? I want to take notes and keep everything in one place. I’ve seen the Knot has one available. Do you have any recommendations? Thank you so much!! 

The Knot wedding planner and organizer _ Affiliate Links 

Everything is tabbed so it's easy to find what you need 

Lots of checklists are included 

Gives great tips on choosing vendors and what to ask 

The Wedding Planner and Organizer by Mindy Weiss 

Laid out nicely, easy to find information 

Checklists, spreadsheets 

The Practical Wedding Planner by Meg Keene 

Budget sheets, checklists 

Vendor planning and questions to ask 

Keeps things realistic, and has budget saving tips and tricks 

PINTEREST PAGE

Remember you can reach us anytime by emailing info@fromringtoveil.com  

Subscribe to the podcast: {Apple Podcasts} {Google Play} {Stitcher} {Youtube}    

-Until next time, No Stress No Worries Keep Calm and Listen On-  

  New Episode!!

[hannahkpatel-blog]

To Kill a Mockingbird Analysis

Part One

Pg 11: ‘Maycomb was an old town’ Because it’s an old town, they are stuck in their old ways 

Pg 17: ‘Boo drove the scissors into his parent’s leg, pulled them out, wiped them on his pants and resumed activities’ An insight into the childrens imagination on how they think Boo is as a person.

Pg 17: ‘The sheriff hadn’t the heart to put him in jail alongside Negroes, so Boo was locked in the court-house basement’ Shows racial discrimination and how the society was when this story was set.

Pg 18: ‘We looked at her in surprise, for Calpurina rarely commented on the ways of white people’ Shows that white is considered the ‘right’ way in society.

Pg 18: ‘Looks like he’d just stick his head out the door’ Childrens perspective of Boo. He’s shy

Pg 19: ‘Boo was about six and a half feet tall, judging from his tracks; he dined on raw squirrels and any cats he could catch, that’s why his hands were blood-stained - if you ate an animal raw, you could never wash the blood off. There was a long jagged scar that ran across his face; what teeth he had were yellow and rotten; his eyes popped, and he drooled most of the time.’ Jems description of Boo. Although we have not actually seen what Boo looks like, the way the children see him is scary.

Pg 19: ‘Jem had never declined a dare’ Jem is a brave child. He doesn’t want to be seen as a ‘chicken’.

Pg 21: ‘The house was the same, droopy and sick’ Description of the Radley house. Even after Jem touches the house, there is no movement from it whatsoever. 

Pg 22: ‘(When Alabama seceded from the Union of January 11 1861, Winston Country seceded from Alabama, every child in Maycomb Country knew it.) North Alabama was full of Liquor Interests, Big Mules, steel companies, Republicans, professors and other persons of no background.’ Background info on Alabama - Where the story is set.

Pg 23: ‘Now tell your father not to teach you anymore. It’s best to begin reading with a fresh mind. You tell him I’ll take over from here and try to undo the damage’ ‘Your father does not know how to teach. You can have a seat now’. Scout already knows how to read. This could be a feature in the book cover - having child like writing.

Pg 24: ‘Sure you do, You hafta know about cows, they’re a big part of life in Maycomb Country’ Insight into Maycomb life.

Pg 24: ‘She would set me a writing task scrawling the alphabet firmly across the top of a tablet, then copying out a chapter of the Bible beneath. If I reproduced her penmanship satisfactorily, she rewarded me with an open-faced sandwich of bread, butter and sugar’. More into Scouts handwriting and how it was used to keep her quite. She is advanced for her age. 

Pg 33: ‘He’s one of the Ewells, ma’am,’ and I wondered if this explanation would be as unsuccessful as my attempt. ‘Whole school’s full of ‘em. They come first day every year and then leave. The truant lady gets ‘em here ‘cause she threatens ‘em with the sheriff, but she’s give up tryin’ to hold ‘em’ Explanation of the Ewell family. Ain’t nice people.

Pg 35: ‘His fingers wandered to his watch pocket; he said that was thge only way he could think’ Atticus’s pocket watch. It symbolises that it is important to him if it is the only way he can think. Also, in the film, Scout talks about how Jem will inherit that very pocket watch int he future.

Pg 35: ‘You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view - until you climb into his skin and walk around in it’. Important quote from Atticus. Also a link to further on in the story with Tom Robinsons trial.

Pg 36: ‘The Ewells had been the disgrace of Maycomb for three generations’ ‘They were people, but they lived like animals’ They give Maycomb a bad reputation. They are not pleasant people.

Pg 38: ‘Jem to spend the following Saturday aloft in the treehouse’ Treehouse represents childhood innocence. Also could play a part in the scene where they find gifts in the tree.

Pg 39: ‘Two live oaks at the edge of the Radley lot; their roots reached out into the side-road and made it bumpy. Something about one of the trees attracted my attention. Some tin foil was sticking in a knot-hole just above my eye level, winking at me in the afternoon sun. I stood on tip toe, hastily looked around for more, reached into the hole, and withdrew two pieces of chewing gum minus their outer wrappers.’ Scout first discovers gifts in the tree. At this point of the story, we don’t know who has left them. 

Pg 40: ‘We ran home, and on the porch we looked at a small box patchworked with bits of tin foil collected from chewing gum wrappers. It was the kind of box wedding rings came in, purple velvet with a minute catch. Jem flicked open the tiny catch. Inside were two scrubbed and polished pennies, one on top of the other.’ ‘Indian heads’ ‘ Nineteen-six and Scout, one of ‘em’s ninteen hundred. These are real old.’ Description of the gifts left in the tree. 

Pg 45: ‘Mrs Radley had been beautiful until she married Mr Radley and lost all her money. She also lost most of her teeth, her hair, and her right forefinger (Dill’s contribution, Boo bit it off one night when he couldn’t find any cats and squirrels to eat). Childrens take on the Radleys. Descritive works and easy to imagine.

Pg 59: ‘Then I saw a shadow. It was the shadow of a man with a hat on’ The figure of Boo when the children sneak to the Radley house.

Pg 64: ‘When I went back for my breeches - they were all tangled when I was gettin’ out of ‘em, I couldn’t get ‘em loose. When I went back -’Jem took a deep breath. ‘When I went back, they were folded across the fence... like they were expectin’ me.’Pg 64: ‘When I went back for my breeches - they were all tangled when I was gettin’ out of ‘em, I couldn’t get ‘em loose. When I went back -’Jem took a deep breath. ‘When I went back, they were folded across the fence... like they were expectin’ me.’ Friendly gesture from Boo. He is being generous to the children.

Pg 65: ‘I pulled out two small images carved in soap. One was the figure of a boy, the other wore a crude dress’ The gift that was left in the oak tree. They were carved ‘almost perfect miniatures of two children, The boy had shorts on, and a shock of soapy hair fell to his eyebrows’ 

Pg 67/68: ‘Dear sir, we appreciate everything which you have put into the tree for us. Yours very truly, Jem Finch and Jean Louise Finch (Scout)’ The childrens letter that they are leaving in the tree.

Pg 95: ‘Jem was football crazy. Atticus was never too tired to play keep-away, but when Jem wanted to tackle him Atticus would say: ‘I’m too old for that, son.’ Jem wants to play football with his dad, although his dad doesn’t want to take part. It’s not part of what Atticus’s interest. 

Pg 95: ‘Besides that, he wore glasses. He was nearly blind in his left eye, and said left eyes were the tribal curse of the Finches. Whenever he wanted something well, he turned his head and looked from his right eye. He did not do the thing our schoolmates’ fathers did: he never went hunting, he did not play poker or fish or drink or smoke. he sat living-room and read.’ Atticus is a unique man. He does what makes him happy. He is older than the other dads and has a different lifestyle.

Pg 95: ‘I’d rather you shot at tin cans in the back yard, but I know you’ll go after birds. Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit ‘em, but remember it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird’. Atticus is telling Jem that a Mockingbird is important - reference to the title. ‘Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corncribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird’. They are innocent creatures. This could be a later reference to the case of Tom Robinson. He only did one thing, and that was to help others.

Pg 96: ‘Well, did you know he’s the best checker player in this town? Why, down the Landing when we were coming up, Atticus Finch could beat everybody on both sides of the river’. Atticus may not seem like every other father, but he does have this traits to be proud of.

Pg 97: ‘Everybody in town’s father was playing it (football), it seemed, except Atticus.’ Another reference to Atticus and his ways.

Pg 101: ‘I haven’t shot a gun in thirty years-’ Atticus. He has left his old ways, he is no longer interested in the outragoues lifestyle of violence.

Pg 102: ‘Atticus pushed his glasses to his forehead; they slipped down, and he dropped them in the street.’ Not much of an actual reference, but Atticus’s round glasses are an iconic feature of his.

Pg 105: ‘I did not remember our mother, but Jem did - he would tell me about her sometimes.’ Scout has no memory of her mother. She does not feel that her mother was part of her life. She was young when she passed away. Jem still has a memory of her. And it is important to him to keep that memory alive.

Pg 107: ‘Your father’s no better than the niggers and trash he works for!’ - Mrs Dubouse. Although Atticus is a well respected man, the town doesn’t agree witht he trial Atticus is working on. Racial difference is a big thing when this story is set.

Pg 108: ‘He did not begin to calm down until he had cut the tops pff every camellia bush Mrs Dubose owned, until the ground was littered with green buds and leaves. He bent my baton against his knee, snapped it in two and threw it down.’ Jem was angry and what Mrs Dubose called him. Camellia bush could be an iconic feature.

Pg 111: ‘Atticus, it’s all right on the sidewalk but inside it’s - it’s all dark and creepy. There’s shadows and things on the ceiling...’ Atticus smiled grimly. ‘That should appeal to your imagination. Just pretend you’re inside thr Radley house.’ Atticus and Jem are talking about the Dubose house. Atticus is telling Jem to think of the house as the Radley house. Could be to make him feel comfortable in the environment?

Pg 114: ‘You aren’t really a nigger-lover, then, are you?’ ‘I certainly am. I do my best to love everybody’ Although Atticus is having a hard time with everybody thinking that he is supporting a ‘nigger’, he tries to keep peace and not letting everyone ruin his reputation. Atticus is a strong character. He is sensible and will do what he pleases to make him happy.

Pg 117: ‘She has Jessie fix you this box-’ Atticus reached down and picked up the candy box. He handed it to Jem. Jem opened the box. Inside, surrounded by wads of damp cotton, was a white, waxy perfect camellia. It was a Snow-on-the-mountain.’ ‘I think that was her way of telling you - everything’s alright now’ - Atticus. The flower is used as a symbol. It symbolises that Mrs Dubose is at rest, and no longer needs help.

Pg 118: ‘He picked up the camellia, and when I went off to bed I saw him fingering the wide petals.’ Another reference to the Camellia.