#this is a particularly annoying problem with her since she moves around a Lot and pre great ascension was basically constantly spinning

[arolesbianism]

I’ve been finally getting to working on design concepts for my iterator ocs from Slivers local group, so here’s Stars. She is sooooo normal (lying)

[euphoricimagination]

𝓗𝓪𝓲𝓴𝔂𝓾𝓾 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓴-𝓶𝓮 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵 - Part 2

Feat. Aoba Johsai & Fukurodani

Premise: You had to do something else for a week and a half, leaving the boys alone for that period. Although they told the coaches that they could survive without you, the coaches ask a girl to help them out instead. They weren’t particularly excited, which got worse the more they spent time with her

Aoba Johsai

Since Seijoh’s volleyball club was very popular among the students, the coach had no problems in looking for someone to be there while you weren’t

In fact, the coach found two, mostly because there were a lot of duties during that week

Unnecessary in the eyes of the team, they were fine before you, they don’t need two of them now

Not even a day passed when the team were dreading this decision; not only they were Oikawa fans to begin with, but they were also annoying

Even Oikawa couldn’t find joy in this situation

The normally heartthrob of the team, the one that adores receiving attention, couldn’t stand them, missing your *playful* punches and scoldings

You luckily were able to hang out with them after their Sunday practice, when it had become a tradition to go to the nearest shopping mall to eat a meal as a team

So to surprise them, you went there without them, planning to raid their table

When you saw them walking into the food court you couldn’t help but giggle, one girl was holding the arm of a very disgusted Oikawa, while the other was clearly acting like a dude alongside an annoyed Iwaizumi, everyone else ignoring them

You started looking at the menus, deciding what to eat, ordering a burger and some fries

“Wow, you’re eating…that? Someone is not thinking about hot girls summer” you hear from your left, one of the girls looking at you as if you were committing a sin

“yeah I don’t care”

“That’s all you’re getting? I could not eat only that, I’m ordering like 6 burgers” another voice comes from your other side, the other girl was there too

“…ok” you say, starting to understand why the team was so fed up with them. The team looks mean, but they were never unnecessary rude

“can I have a salad? I wish I could eat..that, but I’m too worried about how I look, you know” the girl in your left says

“I just got done playing volleyball with the team, so I need like…6.000.000 calories, imagine only eating a salad” the other says, making you sigh

“I love your make up, by the way! It’s so…natural, I wish I had the confidence to not care about how I look on public, good for you!” the girl says with a sarcastic tone

“imagine even wearing make up every day and trying that hard, like I just roll out of bed an-”

“I don’t care about any of your thoughts, so shut up please” you say annoyed, you didn’t know if you were annoyed, uncomfortable or straight up angry, but before you could add anything else an arm wraps your shoulder

“Yn-chaan!” Oikawa squishes you

“Yn-san, you’re here!” Kindaichi exclaims, relief appearing on his face. Kunimi gets slightly closer to you, a move that means that he wants some type of affection, so you pat his head

“Y-you know her?” the princess type of girl asks, eyes wide

“She is our dear manager” Matsukawa adds, Hanamaki nodding with a smirk that only grew bigger when the girl shrieks

“H-her?! But she looks so weak! And I bet she doesn’t know shit about sports! Like.. she’s a girl!” the ‘tomboy’ girl says now

“don’t get too comfortable now, you were just a substitute for her, not the other way around. She is the best manager we could ever ask for” Oikawa says mockingly, hugging you tighter

“b-b-but…”

“you can leave now, we have our manager back, we don’t need you two here anymore” Iwaizumi ends the conversation, taking your tray with food as they all take you to the table

“I still have a few days that I can’t be there” you tell them once you were sitting

“we’ll manage” Iwaizumi says

“What Yn-chaan? Are you sure you aren’t missing this handsome face of mi-ouch!” Oikawa tries to say, but you punch him making the team laugh

You were at peace again

Fukurodani

Despite having another managers in their rooster, the coach decided to ask the manager of other team to help them out

After all the team is big, so another hand wouldn’t be bad

The team was nice, so they did try their best to make her feel welcome eve if it was for a week and a half

But she was making things hard

Washio tried to be a gentleman, but he ended up not interacting much with her

Konoha, in the other hand, was sarcastic, but she was either too dense or too delusional to realize

Akaashi tried to be understanding, but even he was starting to get tired of it

And Bokuto, even with his loud and extroverted personality, ended up just trying to avoid her

When you came back, you had the *amazing* opportunity to meet her first hand, right after entering the gym

What the guys have told you wasn’t particularly encouraging, yet you still wanted to give her a fair shot

“Why are you looking at me? It’s just a knee brace, you never seen something like this?” she tells you, before you could even say hi

“well, hi, nice to meet you too”

“So…you are the manager? The one that I’m replacing? Well, of course you don’t know what this is, since you don’t play any sports”

“well, before I kinda did some cheerleading, but it wasn't for me so I joined this idiots and…”

“exactly! Cheerleading isn’t a sport! Gosh, how are you even the manager of this team”

“Yn!!” Bokuto enters the gym, hugging you tightly as he spins around. Akaashi was behind, who gives you a smile

“If you were wondering! I got injured by playing football…and then basketball and then volleyball with the boys, remember that Bokuto?!”

“eh..nope” bokuto answers confused

“Well me neither”

“anyways! I’m back on the team, so thank you for…well, being here. I’ll take care of it from here on out…unless the guys want you to stay..?” you say

“NO!” a collective answer came in, way too quickly. You resisted a laugh

“well, that settles it, good luck with your knee brace” you push her out softly, a grunt coming from her

“Thank god you’re back Yn-chan” Akaashi tells you, the team patting your head lovingly

“we should celebrate! After practice lets go to eat!” Bokuto adds

“okay! Bokuto is paying!” Konoha says, going to the court to start practicing

You see bokuto whine as he goes too, everyone joining while making fun of the owl boy.

[clay-cuttlefish]

Finishing off every Question comic with Bombshells. I procrastinated on this for a while because I don't want to be done and have a real count of how many Question comics are bad, but I can't ignore it forever.

War Stories

Renee's kind of a fusion of her late Gotham Central and post-52 self, plus some unique traits just from this universe. She's got a lot of the guilt and poorly-hidden rage, but she's Not A Cop.

She's around for a while, and isn't totally irrelevant, but mostly she's one of Kate's love interests.

She and Kate found a kid named Jason, which went exactly as well as you'd expect the Bat adopting a Jason to go, and that's the big incident that tore their relationship apart.

Like a lot of the characters her personality's a little shaky, wobbling between a distinct sharp-edged self and the generic-author-voice that everyone falls into sometimes. None of it is a full "she would not fucking say that", it's just bland.

Men Who Would Be Kings

Instead of being a noir detective, she's drawing more on adventurer archaeologist tropes.

I actually really enjoy this! It's a neat way to switch up her background while keeping some of the pulp vibes.

I don't think it'd work for a story that's closer to canon, but Bombshells is a very distinct Elseworld that reinterprets and un-legacies a ton of characters, not working in canon isn't a problem.

Also I think it's fun that all the heroes are lesbians and there's a lot of crack ship flirting. It's weird sometimes but for the most part I'm on board with the lesbian divorce polycule.

Mechanical Gods

It's a little weird to me that Renee's the Question at all, since she doesn't have any theming, costume elements, relevant backstory, or annoying cryptic dialogue.

Even when there's theme-based banter she still gets left out half the time, since the Question doesn't mesh well with everyone else's animal gimmicks.

There's a single page of Renee's guilt issues and then it turns into the BatCat soap opera.

What's Past is Prologue

Renee being called the mother of Kate's child makes me mildly unhinged, especially because Kate has picked up the Bat responsibility of having way too many love interests and is cheating on her girlfriend.

They hold hands and then disappear from the comic for the last quarter of its run to go be gay and blow up fascists in Spain, which counts as a happy ending.

Bombshells United - War Bonds

Sequel time.

Renee gets a lot more focus in this arc than in all of Bombshells, and this arc is mostly a take on the Black Adam plot from 52, which is a neat bit of spotlight.

The writing, especially the dialogue, is. Well. I am lying to myself about it being alright because the batshit ways it riffs on various canon stories are stuck in my brain a little, but it's pretty bad.

Absolute galaxy brain shit to put the inevitable Jason Resurrection Angst into the 52 plot. Sure, I have reservations about how maternally Kate and Renee are written, but "what if instead of Under the Red Hood we just made Kate and Renee really sad" is such a power move I don't actually care.

Seriously it's such a flex to bring back Jason only to have him walk back into the afterlife with a minor character from a decade-old event. No Bat-importance for him.

I don't think Bombshells is a particularly deep take on Renee, but there's a real attempt to use her character history beyond being a cop, she gets new angles and unique elements, it tries. That means a lot when Renee has 98 non-canon-or-DCAU comic appearances, maybe a dozen of them are doing anything with her, and the best actual take on her as the Question is still Scooby-Doo.

[thunderberryart]

Star's Rune Factory 3 Special 1st Playthrough, Part 1: First Impressions!

Welp, the day has finally come for fans of the Rune Factory series. Preorder copies of Rune Factory 3 Special are already arriving in people's mailboxes and it's not even the official release date yet. I was fortunate enough to be among those who got their copy a few days early and needless to say, I am extremely excited to finally play what is widely considered the best game in the series.

My copy was the Golden Memories Edition from XSEED's store that includes the Golden Wooly keychain. The keychain itself is extremely soft and adorable, and the other goodies included in the Golden Memories box are lovely as well. My favorite is the acrylic standee that features Micah, Frey, Lest, Alice, and Ares--while it's nothing particularly special as far as merch goes, the fact it features the protagonists of the Rune Factory games that have been released since the series was revived is, to me, pretty meaningful. Maybe one day we'll get a similar standee but with the protagonists of RF1/Frontier, RF2, and Tides of Destiny.

But we're not here to highlight what's included in the LE. We're here to talk about my first playthrough of RF3S, which at this point is only just getting started.

I've only played a few days in game so far and I have to say, while I don't dislike it, compared to RF4S and RF5, I am feeling VERY overwhelmed in the early game. A large part is muscle memory; I went into RF3S expecting it to play similarly to RF4S and while that is true in a lot of ways, there are enough differences in the UI that I occasionally find myself tripping up and hitting the wrong button when trying to equip a tool or weapon. There is also the matter of the controls themselves; Micah, at least to me, doesn't move as precisely as Frey/Lest or Alice/Ares, and so I find myself missing a lot when trying to water crops or till the fields. But from what I remember of my one playthrough of RF5, there was a somewhat similar problem with Alice/Ares during the farming segments, and those issues were ultimately fixed once I got around to upgrading the tools, so I imagine something similar might happen down the road with Micah.

I think another factor in what's making me feel overwhelmed is the cast. It's not that the cast is larger than Selphia's--from what I can tell, the population of Sharance about the same as before you rescue all of the Guardians during Act 1--but the personalities are definitely a lot louder and more prone to relying on one or two major character quirks. Collette is a glutton, Raven is a tsundere, Sofia and Sherman speak in opposites, etc. This is a double edged sword because if the quirk is something I can tolerate, than yeah, I'm all right with it. But if the quirk is something I personally find obnoxious, then I'm most likely not gonna be a fan of the character. Of the characters I've met so far, Shara, Sakuya, Carmen, Gaius, Blaise, Marjorie, Hazel, Evelyn, and Shino all have personalities that I genuinely like, but Marian, Karina, Pia, Sofia, Raven, and Sherman? All already getting on my nerves. (Especially Karina. She reminds me way too much of Bado and Elsje, and I didn't like those two either.)

But hey, it's really early in the game, and if RF4 taught me anything, it's never to judge a book by its cover. I mean believe it or not, I used to dislike Xiao Pai because I found her clumsy shtick annoying, but now she's probably my favorite of the bachelorettes. I wouldn't be surprised if the same thing ends up happening here with some of the characters who I currently find aggravating.

Beyond that, I mean... jeez, this game is pretty. RF3S clearly had a bigger budget compared to RF4S between the brand new character/monster models and the new intro. I'm still disappointed there's no female player option and/or datable bachelors, but prettied up or not, RF3S, like RF4S, is a port. I guess if there's anything I would have changed up, it's the portraits. Rune Factory has long suffered from a case of giving the majority of its characters massive baby faces even when they're supposed to be adults and I find it even more glaring here than in RF4S. Like c'mon guys, it's possible to give a character softer, youthful features without making them look like a literal child.

That's all for now! I'll come back with a new post once I've talked to the villagers more and dealt with the tanuki monster everyone keeps blabbering about...

[celestialtrolls-moved]

Get to know my character - Odd numbers for Ae

Long post ahead -

01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded?

Aelynn was my trollsona (like 10 years ago) so her name was my name with an E shoved in there to make it 6 letters.

After a while, she moved away from being my sona, and I wanted to change her name, so I used the name of a genderbent version of her 'Aerynn' and met it halfway with her old name!

03. What would be their favourite physical trait about themselves?

Do her clothes count? She's been at various levels of self-conscious about all of herself, her clothes are important to her because she can control that.

If not, her hair. She puts a lot of time into straightening it and styling it, even when it doesn't look styled at all.

05. Are they sexually confident or more of the shy type?

Confident, she's had plenty of experience.

07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)?

When she's particularly happy she makes clicky sounds with her throat. She's caught herself doing it a few times so she knows she does it, but can't control it much.

09. Do they have a favourite season? What about a favourite holiday?

Winter. She always found summer annoying because of being a cold-blooded troll, people would use her to cool down. Now she just enjoys the fact that fewer people are outside when the weather is bad.

11. What is something that would make your character fly into a rage?

Don't touch her quads, don't hurt her quads, don't even joke about doing anything to her quads.

13. What are your character’s sleeping habits? Heavy or light sleeper? Blanket stealer? One that always rolls onto the floor? Pushes their lover onto the floor? Sleep talker or walker?

She sleeps once every two days very consistently and sleeps very lightly. She can be awoken by someone even walking into the same building as her, but she finds it easy to go back to sleep if she doesn't think it's a problem. She doesn't move much when she sleeps though, very easy to mistake for an actual corpse.

15. Is there a certain person in this world that they cannot stand? The very mention of this person’s name makes them tremble with anger or fear.

Her ex-red who was the first person to kill her, Abadon. Ringleader Solitaire is a close second but she's more jaded regarding him.

17. Does your character have dreams of getting married and/or having children?

No, but she does like helping look after children even if she doesn't think she's very good with them. (She's okay with them, she just wasn't raised well and worries about making a mistake because of that.)

19. Would your character be the kind to get into fights? (physical or verbal) Would they be a good fighter or cave in rather easily?

Yes, she used to get into fights at even the smallest provocation. She's a lot more laid back now she's older.

She's still an excellent fighter, willing to resort to anything.

21. What is one of your character’s biggest fears? How would they react when dealing with this fear?

Large bodies of water, especially the ocean. She avoids it like the plague, and will absolutely avoid going on boats no matter what or doing anything that has even a 0.1% chance of causing her to be submerged (no underwater tunnels or ice).

23. What is your character like when it comes to school? What subjects are they good/bad at? Do they get in trouble a lot or are well behaved?

Aelynn didn't get a good education and has very little patience for learning now since she gets so frustrated that she knows so little. Both her ancestor and her brother have tried teaching her some basics and she can't get her head around it at all, and can't self-study well since she can't read very well either.

25. Is there something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects them even to this day?

...Yes. I will be here all day if I try to answer this.

27. If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the most likely reason for it?

Treason and terrorism as Vocali. Her 'alter ego' is extremely wanted by the Empire even though she's now been inactive for a long time, she caused so many problems and 'disrupted' so many fleet/empire events that the bounty is unlikely to ever expire.

29. What is one of the most courageous things your character has ever done for a loved one?

Off the top of my head... I don't actually know. But Aelynn is very willing to go to extreme lengths for her red/black quads.

31. Would your character be the kind capable of killing? Would they enjoy killing or only use it when necessary or, perhaps, refuse to kill no matter what?

...She kills every day for food, but she's always been capable of killing because Ringleader Solitaire groomed her into a "perfect killing machine" at a very young age (about 4 sweeps).

She feels guilty about it sometimes and attempts to only kill people she thinks deserve it now but it's not always possible.

33. If your character wanted to be alone, where would they go?

She had a house built especially for her when she was out of the carnival out in the middle of nowhere. She did die there but she's one of the only ones that know that building exists, and there's a hidden basement she can hide in.

35. Is your character afraid of death? If they got to choose how to die, how would they want to go?

Not anymore. Having died twice now, one time very painfully and suffering through the whole thing, and having no memory of the other time, she would definitely choose something quick.

37. What are some of your character’s pet peeves? What are some things that annoy them or disgust them?

She absolutely hates people who look down on others for their blood colour. (She is a little hypocritical though, she hates violet/tyrians.)

The fastest way to make her completely lose all respect for someone is for them to go on a hemoist tirade against lowbloods.

39. When people look at your character, is there some assumption they might make about them just by appearance? Is that assumption correct?

I actually don't know what kind of assumptions people make by Ae's appearance... Maybe that she's tired? She's actually always had a strict self-care regime including sleep and eating so she's in good health.

41. Does your character’s family affect your character in any way?

Rennra has had quite an impact on her since their reunion, making her a little more forgiving of people in general, and especially those that might have joined the fleet for reasons out of their control.

Ceremiré inspires her to avoid being like her. She was raised to specifically not be like her ancestor so she has an inherent disgust when she finds similarities.

43. Does your character have a switch that changes aspects of their personality whether they are around friends, family, etc. Is there someone who gets to see their true self?

Aelynn doesn't let her guard down much anymore, only really relaxing around her closest quads and Rennra. Everywhere else she will try and act like she's doing better than she actually is mentally.

45. Is your character the kind to hide their true emotions or do they wear their heart on their sleeve?

Again, she hides the worst of it when she's sad and upset, but she can't help showing most of her emotions, her happiness and anger are clear to see.

47. Is your character outgoing? Would they be the leader of the friend group, or the quiet one that gets dragged along?

She is outgoing but not necessarily social! She is happy to come along if she's invited somewhere, but she doesn't go out of her way to go and talk to new people or take other people out to events. But she doesn't have a hard time talking to people.

[fluorescentpipedream]

Adryan Beck - formerly a member of Ryki’s band while he was in LA, Adryan is non-gender conforming, preferring they/them to any other pronoun, and flits between female and male presenting depending on their mood. Their parents had been expecting twins, a boy and a girl, however something happened in the womb and Adryan absorbed their twin sister. Another birth defect occurred in their eyes as well, which makes them appear golden. This has caused them to be legally blind and having color blindness as well, though they often wear contacts to correct the problems caused, if they’re going to be around the house and not around a lot of people, they will wear glasses. After calling to talk to Jon Connell they find out that Ryki has not only gotten married but has a baby (Bea) and they decide to surprise Ryki and his family with a visit from an old friend. Adryan and their girlfriend have been together for about 4 years, and she is completely understanding and loving through whatever form her partner decides to be. Adryan still performs from time to time, but releases music on youtube more than they actually do anything else. They also preform sometimes in a drag style show at a local club in Malibu where they and their girlfriend live. The two own a bed and breakfast right on the beach. It was apparently a gift for their girlfriend. 

Thomas “Tom” Moreau - Tom is usually seen as aloof and prefers to be alone, though he is oddly a bit of a social butterfly (not so much that he flutters around between groups but because he doesn’t belong to any particular group and is considered, by some, to be friendly to everyone) He has a firm jaw and an overreaching annoyed look on his face most of the time but more often than not he’s not feeling particularly one way or the other. Tom is a poet as well as being a member of the coven his mother runs in, spending a lot of his time reading off to the side and keeping himself to himself. He has been friends with Lilly and Roxie since elementary school and considers them both to be his better friends, to the point that as much as he’s not one to stand in front of a crowd, he will appear in or work on Lilly’s productions, usually in the background somewhere though. It’s not until after Diana starts getting into the plays that he starts stepping more into the light. Tom is a little athletic, he used to be on the track team until his epilepsy seemed to have gotten worse and is currently taking a bit of a break from it. 

Austin Grier - (no relation to Joey or Johnathan Grier) - Austin is a gamer, plays world of Warcraft and GTA/RDR and pretty much anything else he can get his hands on.  He came into my head playing Mario Kart with Andy on a hotel bed when Andy is competing on Master Chef, he made friends with Andy pretty quickly and usually they’re on the same team, though there’s an added, teasing rivalry the one or two times they’re on opposite sides. He’s very animated, and very out/proud and doesn’t have a vicious bone in his body. He was raised by his grandparents and spent 95% of his childhood in the kitchen with grandma. He currently lives in NYC and works at the Bronx teen club but has plans to move to LA, Vegas or even out of the country, depending on the results of the show. He doesn’t win, but is the runner-up after almost getting cut in the third round. 

His specialty is baking but he also has a soft spot for pasta, and wants to travel to as many other countries as he can to learn everything he can. He has one tattoo, an ouroboros on his right wrist. It has something to do with his parent - his mother was attacked and wound up with him, though they never hated their son, they transitioned shortly after he was born but unfortunately passed away when he was four. His grandparents were both very supportive of their child and grandchild. Grandma died shortly after he turned 15, grandpa only stayed in NYC long enough for him to graduate high school then moved back to Colorado to live with one of his other sons. (Good relationship there to, his uncle doesn’t really understand why his sister transitioned into his brother but just wanted them happy in the end.) He used to spend summers on his uncle’s ranch, taking care of the horses and working in the kitchen.  Apparently he experiments in the kitchen quite a bit, he auditioned with “one bite salad” pockets made with rice paper sleeves and balsamic “caviar” he made using agar agar powder and oil. 

Darnell Terrance - Darnell isn’t new but he needed an updated picture. 

Jamie Oliver - Jamie isn’t new either, she’s been around for a very long time.  So Jamie used to be the guitarist of the Suicide Kings (originally called the Lords of Salem), however when Scott got involved with the band the direction changed without her. Wolf IS her brother, not biologically but they met in the system the first time she tried to get away from her abusive family. He protected her from the foster father and then when she found out she was being sent back to her home, he told her he was blowing the joint and offered her a place if she needed it. Wolf ultimately ended up breaking her father’s wrist and taking her with him to California. She was about 12 to his 18. She lived with him as his little sister since. When the band started she was 14,  everyone in it treated her like their little sister. The serial killer homages in their names were her idea and she took the name Hell’s Belle after Belle Gunness, a female murderer of over 40 people in Indiana/Illinois between 1884 and 1908 and dressed like this on stage while wearing a bedazzled skull mask. She usually wore the mask so no one could see how young she was. Scott joined the band about a year before they were signed and turned the band on its ear, ultimately trying to make it HIS band, not Wolf’s but because Wolf was going through it at the time he did little to push back, subsequently demoting Jamie to essentially roadie, the only person he trusted to touch his guitars. He still was trying to look out for her though. When Lynn voiced her anger with her brother Martin never giving her the time to play her music, Jamie decided to give Scott and at the time, Wolf, the middle finger and agreed to play bass for the Riot Girls and ended up really loving it. When Scott loses himself to alcohol, Wolf can’t deal with it anymore and asks her to play a few shows as Hell’s Belle again while they figure out what to do. I do know Scott gets his ass kicked into rehab for alcoholism and while the band continues to tour, Jamie goes back to the Riot Girls when a new guitarist takes over (he looks like Zakk Wilde and apparently goes by the name Joseph Skinner) 

Luke Vaughn - Diana’s father, Luke has been in my head for a while but I’ve never really known much about him. Turns out, Luke is a member of the Scorpions from California and an honorary Viking due to his relation (by marriage) to Floki. Luke had been married to Floki’s sister though the two worked out much better not being married and divorced shortly after the birth of their daughter, Diana. He is a doting father and loves his daughter more than he thought he could love anyone. After the unfortunate death of his wife, Luke takes over caring for Diana, bringing her down to Illinois with him where he relocated a few years before the unfortunate business with BP and the reorganizing of the Slayers/Scorpions. (He has already stated he will follow Queenie as he had the greatest respect for BP)  Luke generally works at either the Hustler Club as a bouncer and/or as a landscaper during the summer months in order to provide something more stable for his daughter. 

@musesnotebook

[lucascecil]

Something I read - War of the Daleks

This is going to be a bit different from the previous posts as 1. I haven't tweeted as I read as I did with The Bodysnatchers annd Genocide, so it's not something I have already written neither real time comments and 2. I have finished reading Alien Bodies already minutes before starting this "review". So let's do it.

I was positively surprised while reading because I heard so many bad things of War of the Daleks that I expected the worse. This book is not at all perfect, I don't know if I wouldn't even call it good really, but I had a decent time with it.

I want to talk about Sam first, because she is one of the downsides of this book. There is barely anything nice or cool or whatever told to us about her, instead she spends most of the pages being jealous as fuck of any woman she meets, focusing on her crush on the Doctor (which I don't like at all) and being a (not in a good way) weirdo.

At some point I was so irritated with Sam that I started saving the bits where she being jealous got in my nerves. I didn't do it for the whole book and still I got like 15 bookmarks. My favorite because of how fucking stupid it's is this one:

Three troopers, all male, entered the room. Like Ayaka, they seemed to be physically perfect. They were all blond and blue-eyed, like Hitler’s dream of an Aryan super-race. But these were real, not an ideal. And they all had weapons held ready.

Sam is not completely void of interesting traits in this book. She has been trying to map out the TARDIS but it seems an impossible task. The Daleks scare the Doctor, and anything that scares the Doctor scares her. She is not going to die screaming. There is a nice scene where she briefly takes control of the situation that shows she is coming around since she joined the TARDIS. Sam has become familiar with almost all kind of jails. But it's just not enough. For the most part Sam is a pricky teenager, annoying as hell, a huge hypocrite and all around not a nice person. She tries to tell the Doctor that they need to get the fuck out of this situation, which would be smart for most stories but this time it sounds mean spirited as if she is trying to get him away from other female characters. To prove my point:

The thought of the Doctor and Chayn together for a couple of hours, repairing stuff and getting friendly, was not particularly appealing. ‘Doctor,’ hissed Sam, ‘this isn’t our problem. A quick cup of tea, and goodbye, remember?’

And she is like that the whole book. I guess the author was trying to get Sam to be a flawed character but honestly it's just sound what it is: an adult man trying to write a teenager girl no matter he has no ideia how to do so. It's not the first book Sam is depicted as insecure, but when you compare how she is written here to, let's say, Vampire Science - it's ridiculous.

I want to comment on that Hitler paragraph because I saw it coming. In the start of the book it's mentioned and highlighted how "perfect" the Thals physically are, how they are the perfect human being while the text describes the whitest people ever and I was like - I know what you are trying to insinuate but you won't dare to say it like that. Then it did, and it's so absurd I can only laugh.

I get where I came from, okay? The Daleks are a nazi/facism metaphor and therefore the author is trying to set the Thals as an equivalent of the "ideal" germans that the nazi screwed over but it's so insensitive and so bad thought out I'm apalled. I just can't believe that was published.

But let's move on to another topic. I don't like the Thals. They do nothing for me in most stories they are a part of and honestly even in the ones were they are significative I never felt it obligatory needed to be an alien race that shared their planet with the Daleks. The Daleks work better as a concept isolated from them. They are fine, here. The writer tries to do something out of them - there a lot of scenes that are written to question their morality and ask if they are really any better than the Daleks. For example, when they wipe out a native population of a planet they were fighting on without remorse because they would be dead anyway - but at least they would die taking some Daleks with them:

‘Haven’t you looked behind us?’ she demanded. ‘There’s a native village there. And they don’t have hardened armour.’ ‘Then they’ll die,’ Delani said, unconcerned. ‘If the Daleks get past us, they’ll die anyway. This way will be quicker and a hell of a lot less painful for them. And it’ll give us a chance to live. Maybe you can avenge them.’ Ayaka didn’t know what to say. To deliberately order a strike that would kill civilian targets… She couldn’t think straight. All she could do was fire at the oncoming Daleks, blanking out her mind.

There is even one scene Eight tells a Thal general that the man had already become a Dalek himself.

Ayaka is perhaps the most interesting character in this book as she is the Thal who is there to question her own place in the military and ask if they are right and eventually reach the conclusion that the Thals themselves are becoming monters as she faces morally corrupt oficials and then ends the book promising to fight for a better world. It's nothing stellar and Doctor Who did it a million times before, but it's consistent.

Every Thal soldier must have one child before joining the fight. Probably with a partner they never met before and will not meet again. The mothers depart from their children as soon as they can - and the thought that they are fighting for their future have to be enough. Ayaka fights for her little girl.

One of my favorites scenes from the book is when Chayn, the only truly relevant character from the Quetzel, talks to Ayaka about it:

Chayn cut across her, her voice bleak. ‘My father was a soldier,’ she said. ‘He fought the Daleks, along with other races. He hired himself out to kill for money. I only saw him three times in my life. The last time, he was in a medlab, strapped to a bed, dying. His body had been shattered, but he wanted to tell me that he loved me before he died.’ Her voice became very quiet. ‘He did. And I couldn’t believe him. If he’d loved me, he’d have been with me, raising me.’ She glared at Ayaka. ‘I hate war, not because of what it does to my enemies, but because of what it does to those I love. It took my father away from me and killed him. But before it did that, it made him forget about everything that was important – really important – in life. He told me that he loved me, but by then he’d forgotten what love is.’ She swallowed. ‘I’ve heard it said that the first casualty of war is the truth. That’s not so. The first casualty in war is love.’ She looked into Ayaka’s eyes. ‘Perhaps your child will be able to forgive you for not being there for her. Perhaps she’ll even grow up thinking you’re some kind of a hero. She may even be right. But that doesn’t matter. Because war has already killed everything important inside of you. You’ve lost your love.’ She paused, waiting for that to sink in. Ayaka said nothing. ‘Your little girl isn’t a real person, with needs and hopes and fears. She’s simply a symbol of what you’re fighting for now, a sacrifice you’ve made. A part of you you’ve chopped off. Like your conscience. You know what Delani did was wrong, and yet you said nothing.’

There are some nice descriptions of Eight that I like, for example:

[...] Despite the dab of dirt on his nose, he still looked like some disenfranchised nineteenth-century poet – a naive soul out loose in the cold hard world, and struggling to make some sense out of it. His fine features, curled hair, and turn-of-the-century costume all contributed to the feeling, but it was the Doctor’s mannerisms themselves that made you realise there was a poetic heart – hearts! – and soul within the sensitive, attractive frame.

He says for him it's hard to recall some info after two or three regenerations. He tries to protect Sam when they first encounter a (dead) Dalek even though it would be an useless act. He mocks when they are found in the Quetzel that it's that time of the day when they are accused of commiting a crime and get in "jail" - it doesn't happen this time tho, for a change. If he sabotaged the ship, he would have done it more elegantly.

And, more interesting, the idea that it was his intereference over Thal story that made them into warriors, into the monsters he met, terrifies him. He is forced to face sins of the past even if the book doesn't use this idea to the fullest. It happens a second time, when Seven (not) destroying Skaro becomes a problem.

‘No,’ Ayaka answered. ‘But we are what we must be. And what we are, you created.’ ‘I?’ The Doctor frowned. ‘You were the one who taught us to fight, Doctor,’ Ayaka informed him. ‘What we have become is what you helped to make. If you dislike what you see, you have only yourself to blame.’

And:

‘The Daleks were coming back to life,’ he explained. ‘The Thals were simple farmers, looking for fresh sources of food. They had low levels of technology. The Daleks wanted to murder them, and they had stolen a vital piece of the TARDIS from me. I needed to get it back, but I couldn’t manage it alone. So I had to persuade the Thals to help me. I forced them to fight. I made them stop being pacifists.’ He thumped his chest bitterly. ‘I’m responsible for what they’ve now become. I’m responsible for Balatan’s death.’

There is also this moment when Davros says the Daleks were built without weaknesses, but the Doctor disagrees: without strenghts, without a future, without a hope. While I strongly dislike Sam characterisation in this book, Eighth was alright. Nice, even.

The actual Dalek plot is decent. It's an excuse in form of a book to retcon Remembrance, but while it could've been better I can also think of a lot ot ways I could have been worse. I even like the Dalek Emperor in this story as we actually see him making strategies. Even Davros going to trial so he can lure out non loyal Daleks and using the Doctor as a plan b if it goes wrong is nicely thought out. It works. Dalek Prime is even the only character besides Eight that don't understimates Davros even though he despises him. I am a bit tired of "Dalek factions fighting" stories but this one is good in that aspect.

Skaro is the Dalek word for home, which I didn't know. There is a page or two dedicated to explain what the different colors in the Daleks cases mean and it was nice because while I wondered about it before I never researched what they meant. There is also this cool chapter where this random character goes to a Dalek base to it can sabotage it and then he fights this huge marine monster native to Skato that's pretty cool.

He realised he was wrong. This was no creature native to Antalin. It was wide, about six feet across, and two thick at the centre. It swam by undulating its entire body, like a ray. Twin stalked eyes stared at him, malicious intelligence evident. A Slyther… This was a creature from the Daleks’ home world. They must have released one to patrol the sea about the platform. It would envelope its prey like a jellyfish, grabbing hold and then absorbing it through its membranes. It could pump stomach acids from the underside of its body to weaken its prey and partially digest it. Those acids would be able to penetrate his suit if it enveloped him.

There is also a bit that caught my attention: if I understood it right, the Second Doctor fought (in Power of the Daleks) the Dalek factory that Eight sent through the time vortex at the end? It didn't get on my nerves like the retcon fest of The Eight Doctors, I just thought it was random.

There is also a phrase when Sam reflects that she may be a bit desinsitize by death now which stuck for me because I have a lot to say about how that's a recurring theme for audio Eight and it was nice to see it here so I can fit it all in while talking about that topic.

So yep, the weakest book so far apart from The Eight Doctors but I was surprised that for the most part it was a decent read. ★★☆☆☆

[uvobreakmylegs]

Right Place, Right Time

wanted to write something with a little more humor in it but there’s still dark shit because phantom troupe

Warnings: mentions of death

“There's trouble, boss.”

Phinks' voice cut through the chatter of the busy casino. Chrollo didn't look up at first, relaying a few more instructions to Shalnark via text. 'Trouble' wasn't unexpected; as much as Chrollo could plan ahead, human nature could be unpredictable and would usually cause a few bumps in the road when it came to their heists.

“What sort of trouble?” Chrollo asked as he pocketed the cellphone.

“A Zoldyck.”

Ah.... That was a bit more trouble than usual.

Chrollo's gaze followed that of Phinks and Shizuku. Looking down at them from a second balcony stood Illumi, his face devoid of emotion as the black void within his eyes took in the group.

The second Chrollo made eye contact with him, Illumi gestured to his left with a sharp jerk of his head before walking off in the same direction.

“Does he want to fight away from the guests?” Shizuku asked.

“Maybe,” said Chrollo. He began to walk in the direction Illumi had gone, signaling for Shizuku and Phinks to follow. The three of them walked up one of the staircases located to the side. Phinks pulled on the collar of his suit every so often, while Shizuku walked slightly slower due to the heels that she wasn't used to wearing. But Chrollo could sense that the two were anticipating a fight (Phinks likely ready to use it as an excuse to get out of the fancy suit he hated so much).

“But it may not come to a fight with him,” Chrollo told them.

“Don't the Zoldycks hate us?” Phinks asked.

“Silva hates me specifically,” Chrollo corrected, “but Illumi can be reasoned with.”

Phinks snorted a bit at that, but didn't say anything else. Shizuku then asked what Silva Zoldyck had done to the troupe, to which Phinks gave a brief summary of the incident that had happened years prior. A very brief summary, but he knew there was no point in getting into details since Shizuku would forget almost immediately; this wasn't even the first time she had asked.

Perhaps he should have expected that one of the Zoldycks would be present – it was the opening night for this particular high-end gambling hall. But with how stingy the owner had been rumored to be, he would have thought that the price of a Zoldyck assassin as a security guard would have been more than she was willing to spend.

If it was Zeno or Silva there would be no chance of ending things amicably: Zeno was dedicated to his work and wouldn't be moved by a bribe or any words that Chrollo could offer. And Chrollo and Silva shared a very mutual hatred of one another, so a fight would have been inevitable in that case.

But Illumi, while also just as dedicated to his family as his father and grandfather, could be convinced to stand down if Chrollo could name a good enough price and ensure that the Zoldyck name wouldn't be tarnished in any way. The Zoldycks successfully completed every job they took on, but they couldn't be held accountable if their client terminated the contract before they could complete it. It had happened once before, in an instance where a man had hired Illumi to assassinate Pakunoda. Illumi agreed to hold off on going through with the hit for a short while in exchange for twice the amount the man had paid him for and to allow the troupe the time needed to get to the client and release him from the contract.

Though it would be nicer to just get to Illumi's client and kill her off, there was no chance Illumi would allow them to do that while still under his contract. And Illumi would be happier if he was able to leave with twice the amount of jenny he had been promised.

Illumi was waiting at the end of a hall that had fewer people in it, pointedly looking at him before entering into what looked to be a darkened room. Chrollo pulled out his phone to text an order for the troupe to wait as he spoke to Phinks and Shizuku.

“You two wait out here,” he ordered.

Phinks looked as though he wanted to question him on that, but he held his tongue, crossing his arms as he gave a sharp nod in acknowledgment. If Shizuku felt that his actions were questionable, she didn't betray that fact to him.

Leaving the two of them behind, Chrollo made his way to the door Illumi had entered and pulled it open.

This room was darker than the rest of the casino, and without the electric lights that brightened the building and the bodies of the customers that increased the temperature with their own body heat, it was much cooler in the room as well.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did, he saw that Illumi was leaning against a smaller circular table, toying with one of his needles as he watched Chrollo enter.

“I thought you didn't like the body-guarding jobs,” Chrollo said as the door behind him slowly swung shut.

“I owed my brother for his assistance on my last assignment,” Illumi explained, “so I'm filling in for him.”

Chrollo nodded, though he didn't particularly care all that much. Whatever the reason, the presence of a Zoldyck would hinder things. Best to get straight to the point.

“How much are you being paid for this job?” Chrollo asked.

Illumi's eyebrows raised slightly.

“You think you can pay me off?”

“It worked once before.”

“So it did,” Illumi conceded, “but it would start to look suspicious if I accepted your offer too many times, no? It would be a problem if people thought the Zoldycks could be bought out. Our reputation is everything.”

“Well, you can't help it if your client decides that your services aren't needed and lets you go, now can you?”

“Another inexplicable 'termination' with a job that involved the Phantom Troupe?” Illumi asked, “father was annoyed that I did that last time, though he was more annoyed that I took the job in the first place.”

Illumi sighed.

“But again, doing that too often would look strange, and I will not do anything to harm our business reputation.”

“Very few people knew about the previous hit on Pakunoda,” said Chrollo, “there would be few who would notice a particular pattern, and I think the two of us are both inclined to avoid an unnecessary fight if possible.”

“True. Killing you and the rest of your group would take some time. And it wouldn't be worth the amount that woman is offering. Really, she's low-balling us. I don't know what Milluki was thinking when he took this job. Didn't even make her pay upfront.”

“Then we can come to an agreement?” Chrollo asked.

Illumi closed his eyes in thought, his fingers still twirling around that needle. He was considering it.

Chrollo waited in silence. Trying to push Illumi to do one thing was unproductive and could possibly make him decide to fight after all, though he was certain that Illumi was already willing to take him up on the offer since the assassin hadn't sent his needles flying the second Chrollo walked in. Pulling out his phone, Chrollo checked the time: 8:54 PM. He had planned for this particular operation to begin at 9:15. The owner was part of a group that had begun to throttle the livelihood of Meteor City, and tonight she was the host of a party for that group that was taking place in the upper floors while celebrating the successful opening night of her casino. The main purpose was to send a message: kill the group and anyone else in the building so the rest of the world knew not to interfere with the business of his Meteor City. Whatever valuables they collected would just be bonuses for the troupe to divide amongst themselves.

Though Chrollo rarely went back to the city these days, it was beneficial for him if the city still existed. And though he would never admit it out loud, there was of that sentimental feeling of wanting to protect his old home, as harsh and cruel as it had been for him growing up.

Illumi opened his eyes and looked to Chrollo.

“3 billion and I'll leave.”

“That's quite a lot,” said Chrollo, “much more than I paid last time. Why such a steep increase?”

“So it's worth my while.”

Chrollo mulled it for a bit, checking his phone again: 8:57. He certainly had the funds to pay Illumi's price, but it did feel like he was being somewhat taken advantage of in this case. Still keeping an eye on Illumi, Chrollo couldn't help but notice that the assassin seemed to have something else on his mind that he was considering. Then, like he had come to a decision, he sat up a bit straighter as he addressed Chrollo again.

“There's one more thing,” Illumi said.

“Something more than 3 billion jenny, Illumi?”

“Just some time; give me four minutes before you start.”

Chrollo hummed. Illumi didn't need that much time to vacate a building like this. Was it an attempt to set some kind of trap? No, that was unlikely. It would be far too obvious and Illumi wouldn't go to such lengths unless he was being paid to do so. Still, he couldn't help but be a little curious as to what Illumi would need that time for.

“Why four minutes?”

“Personal reasons.”

Ah. He should have sensed something like that would be the answer.

“A lot can happen in even a single minute, Illumi. And you want four?”

“Four minutes is unreasonable?”

“Not enough to end this deal, but I may want you to lower your price a bit.”

“Are you trying to haggle with me?”

Illumi frowned a little when Chrollo smiled at him.

“Maybe just by 60 million or so,” Chrollo said.

“So you'd rather pay two billion, nine hundred and forty million?” Illumi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It's still more than you'll get if you keep your current contract, correct?”

Chrollo saw the corners of Illumi's mouth turn upwards ever so slightly, a small smirk on his face as he closed his eyes again and considered the offer.

“That's true. Even taking that out I'd still be much better off.”

Chrollo checked the time and found it to be 9:01 PM. If Illumi came to a decision soon the troupe's operation could still go as planned.

“Very well,” Illumi said after a moment of thought, “transfer me the money first.”

With a nod, Chrollo accessed one of his bank accounts through his phone, bringing up the necessary amount and transferring it to the account number Illumi gave him. Within a few minutes, the transaction was completed. Illumi seemed rather pleased with himself, Chrollo noted.

“Perhaps you should stay in here for a moment,” Chrollo said, “Shalnark is upstairs. I can order him to take control of the owner and have her officially fire you. Then there won't be any issues with your family, correct?”

“That won't be necessary,” Illumi answered.

“Oh?”

“I got fired before you got here.”

“..... Excuse me?”

There was a flat tone to Chrollo's voice that made Illumi chuckle as the latter continued “that woman felt like she was wasting her money, but she was pressured to hire one of the Zoldycks at the behest of her guests. Seems to me like she was looking for an excuse to get out of paying the full fee. Apparently I was 'unprofessional'. But I'm glad I caught sight of you, otherwise this evening would have been more of a loss for me.”

Chrollo said nothing at first. Illumi had been careful with his wording, Chrollo realized, and it hadn't occurred to him to ask if Illumi was still under contract.

The funds weren't that important to Chrollo, but he couldn't help but feel rather miffed. Had he known that the assassin was currently out of a job, there wouldn't have been a reason to pay a higher price than normal; Illumi would have been left between going home empty-handed or with whatever Chrollo would have been willing to give him.

But then again, how could he have anticipated that a Zoldyck would have gotten fired?

Realizing that he had been played, Chrollo checked his phone again: 9:07. At least they'd still be able to start on time.

“Your four minutes start now,” he said.

Nodding, Illumi stood from where he'd been leaning against the table. He made his way through the room, past Chrollo and to the door that lead to the hall where Phinks and Shizuku waited.

“Perhaps you could humor me,” Chrollo said as he walked by, “it shouldn't take you four minutes to exit a place like this. What exactly are those personal reasons?”

Illumi chuckled a bit as he placed his hand on the knob.

“I suppose you can see for yourself if you decide to watch me leave.”

With that, Illumi left, the door swinging shut.

Standing alone in the dark room, Chrollo wasn't sure what to make of Illumi's behavior. He was used to the assassin being more straight-forward. He was secretive, yes, but there was something about the way he had acted just now that seemed a bit more.... Playful.

Illumi and Hisoka had known each other before Chrollo had met the long-haired man, and the two had seemed like they were in frequent contact. Perhaps, Chrollo mused, some of Hisoka's less-than-ideal qualities were rubbing off on Illumi.

Phinks and Shizuku approached him immediately after he also exited the room.

“It looked like he was leaving,” Shizuku said, “were you able to talk him down?”

“Yes. It was more expensive than it needed to be, but he'll be leaving shortly,” Chrollo answered as he nodded at her.

“He required four minutes before we began, so we'll be able to stay on schedule,” he continued as he looked at his phone again. 9:08.

The two spiders nodded (though Phinks seemed somewhat disappointed to not have a chance to fight Illumi) and Chrollo updated the rest of the troupe. The three of them slowly began to walk back to the main hall before coming to a stop at one of the balcony's. Below them the crowd had only managed to have grow larger as more people had entered to try their luck in the new gambling hall. For the majority of the crowd it seemed to be more of a pastime as they looked more well-to-do, but there were a few individuals who already appeared to be reaching a point of desperation, sweating nervously while they looked to the indifferent dealers.

A grand clock at the top of the hall showed the time to be nearing 9:10, and they had yet to see Illumi leave the building.

“Why did he want four minutes?” Shizuku asked.

“He wouldn't say,” Chrollo answered her.

“Hm. I wonder what it was,” Shizuku said.

“It seems he wanted to collect some woman before we got started,” Phinks suddenly said.

“Huh?”

Both Chrollo and Shizuku looked to where Phinks was looking. Within the crowd they saw Illumi walking through, accompanied by you. He held your hand as he lead you through the throng of guests, and you were giggling at something he had said while you intertwined your fingers with his. Illumi smiled back at you as he continued to pull you forward.

It was not a sight Chrollo had anticipated, nor was he expecting to see the darkened marks on your neck when he squinted. Marks that could've been made by Illumi's mouth.

Remembering that Illumi had said he'd been terminated for being unprofessional, and suddenly the reason for his firing became clear.

“That's just a civilian, right?” Phinks asked, “what does he want with her?”

“I guess he doesn't want to leave her here to die,” said Shizuku, “that's sweet.”

Chrollo continued to watch as the two of you made it to the other end of the hall. When you were finally out of the crowd, you went to wrap your arm around the one that had been leading you, smiling up at him as you two continued your way to the entrance. There weren't many who could touch one of the Zoldycks like that and live to tell the tale. Phinks was most likely right in his assessment; you weren't anything special. You probably had no idea who the person was that you were so happily walking off with or how dangerous he was.

Illumi said something and smiled at you before the two of you began walking again, but Chrollo didn't miss the little warning glance the assassin had sent in his direction.

As Shizuku and Phinks talked amongst themselves on what all that was about, Chrollo found himself unsure of what to think of this particular turn of events.

Evidently to Illumi, you were worth at least 60 million jenny.

You had come to this event on behalf of your friend Kiki, who had been invited by her cousin who had wanted to spend a milestone birthday at the casino. Places like this had never done much for you; the odds were always stacked in favor of the house and you didn't want to lose your hard-earned cash by gambling it away. You only came to do a favor for your friend, and yet about an hour into the evening, she had left you to chat up someone at the bar, leaving you with a group of people you only vaguely knew in an even bigger sea of strangers. Most ignored you, but there was the occasional middle-aged man who would eye you up and make you feel uncomfortable enough that you felt like you needed to leave the general area.

And then you ran into him.

The handsome man with long black hair and dark eyes who'd been walking about. He caught your attention like he'd caught the attention of most of the people around him, though they had seemed more content to watch him and gossip about him from afar. Maybe it was because no one else was going for it, maybe it was because you were slightly jealous that Kiki had managed to find an actual date for the night, or maybe you were just tired of the gross older men that kept ogling you and you wanted to be able to enjoy yourself with someone that you were actually in to. Regardless of whatever it was that made you do it, you approached the man and asked if he wanted to get a drink with you.

He hadn't wanted any drinks, but your boldness had impressed him enough that he wanted to talk with you. In private. Leading you away from the crowd and noise, he took you to a staff-only hallway where he introduced himself as Illumi. You introduced yourself to him, and the two of you managed to hit it off, having a lengthy conversation that ended when he kissed you suddenly. It seemed like something that had been spur-of-the-moment for him, and he pulled away from you to ask if you had liked it. Your answer was to pull him back onto your lips.

Your make-out session had culminated in him pushing you against the wall while he sucked hickeys into the skin of your neck.

And then you got caught.

You were expecting that you'd both get kicked out, but Illumi had been asked to accompany some of the casino staff while you were taken back to the main hall. Being that they were more concerned about Illumi, they left you there while you tried to hide the marks Illumi had left behind. You hadn't been sure if you would see him again; you didn't realize that he'd been working for the casino, and you were worried that you had cost him his job.

So it was unexpected when he appeared before you and asked you to leave with him.

But you said 'yes' without any hesitation.

You slid into the backseat of the car that had pulled up, Illumi coming in after you.

“The Palazzo,” Illumi instructed the driver.

Wait....

“Isn't that the really expensive hotel on the riverfront?” you asked Illumi.

“Yes. I've been staying there,” he answered.

You were amazed that he had the cash to be able to stay at a place like that. Then worry hit you.

“I got you fired, didn't I? Are you sure that isn't an issue?”

With that same small smile you had seen several times now since he'd opened up to you, Illumi smiled back at you.

“I got a better payout leaving like I did than if I had stayed. So don't worry, there's no issue.”

That eased your worries a bit, and you settled yourself into the seat as the car began to pull forward. You glanced back at the illuminated casino as you drove off, and another pang of guilt hit you.

“What's wrong?” Illumi asked.

“I left my friend without telling her anything,” you said as you pulled out your phone, “I should text her about where I'm going.”

“Mm. Yes, that would be a good idea.”

Illumi's tone was always rather flat, so you didn't notice that he seemed slightly displeased as you messaged Kiki to let her know you had left. It seemed like she'd found her own date, so hopefully she wouldn't be too mad at you. It wasn't like she'd been left alone.

The instant you hit 'send', you turned your attention back to Illumi.

“Think she'll get it in time? The reception was a little spotty in some places,” you said.

“It was fine, but don't worry about that.”

With that, Illumi pulled you into his lap while you yelped. You wanted to protest, seeing as you two were in a moving vehicle and the driver could tell what the two of you were doing. Illumi held you securely, however, and when you looked to the front of the car, you found that a sheet of tinted glass now separated the front from the back. The driver must have been able to read the mood.

“Don't worry about what's going on back there,” Illumi told you, “from this point on, all I want for you to focus on is me.”

His order made you blush, and you shyly answered with an “okay” before his lips were on you.

The casino and the people inside it were the last things on your mind that night.

[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.1

It's here fellas, the mutation sequel that I've mercilessly teased you with!

Content warnings: gore, torture, blood (like... lots), just a bunch of puking up blood, Miranda being her usual mad scientist self, torture in the name of science, Nicole be sick af (both literally and of crow mommy's bullshit), a little bit of blood drinking as a treat, medical procedures.

////

Tic toc tic toc

God that clock is so annoying.

Nicole wasn’t nervous. No. She chose this, at least for the most part. She had a long conversation with all her family, Alcina and Esteria both assuring her that it would work. It’s been years since the beginning of the experiments and by this point the process was almost perfected.

Miranda knew what she was doing.

That mattered little to her nerves though.

She instinctively pushed herself further into Cassandra’s side, who’s grip around her waist tightened ever so slightly.

The waiting was downright tortuous.

She, along with Cassandra and her two sisters were in her infirmary. The room mixed the ancient decor of the castle with modern medical equipment in a beautiful way. Not that anything less would be acceptable. Not that the familiarity of her workspace brought her any comfort either.

All their eyes snapped in the direction of the door when a heavy set of footsteps, with two lighter ones, were heard down the hallway outside. Soon the door opened with a barely audible creak and the two matriarchs entered, followed suit by Mother Miranda. Her presence alone was enough to make Nicole’s breath get lost somewhere in her throat, on its way to an exhale. The black wings, even partially folded as they were, did their job of making her look so much more intimidating than she was. Not that she needed them to begin with, a look from those icy gray eyes more than enough to send anyone to their knees.

Mother Miranda was, in all ways that mattered, a goddess.

A goddess that was about to infect her with the same thing that failed countless times in the past. The same thing that made the crawling mindless beasts used as guard dogs in the undergrounds. Or that made all the lycans.

Nicole gulped, a gesture gone thankfully unnoticed to anyone other than her painfully dry mouth.

But Miranda didn’t spare her a glance. She simply busied herself with some tools she had brought on one of the metal tables. With each clink the room seemed to close in on her slightly more, until Nicole felt as if she somehow ended up in one of Heisenberg's death traps. Spikes moving closer and closer until they would pierce her body and leave her in a messy pool of blood and entrails.

She shook her head and took a long inhale. No. This was going to work. She was not about to lose her family over a pesky thing such as mortality. She was not about to lose Cassandra. If getting infected by the Cadou was what it took to spend eternity with her lover then so be it. Possible side effects be damned.

Mother Miranda finally seemed to have finished, a now empty flask labeled Cadou sitting on the desk behind her while the parasite was writhing in her hand, thin whip-like tentacles extending frantically around itself. She called her over with a nod, and with a deep breath and a parting hand squeeze from Cassandra, Nicole forced her legs to take her across the room. Her steps didn't waver, she'd be damned if she'd show any hesitancy in front of this.

"Shall we begin."

It wasn't a question really, merely veiled impatience. Miranda did not like her, plain and simple. The fact that she was there to begin with was already a miracle. Miracle that wouldn't have happened were it not for the Ladies themselves asking for it.

"Yes of c-"

Before her words even had time to completely slip out of her mouth, golden talons plunged into the base of her sternum.

"Hopefully this can teach you that I don't like people going behind my back."

Nicole let out a choked gasp, hands instinctively wrapping around Miranda's arm, weakly grabbing at black robes. Ironically enough, those very talons were keeping her upright and, when they were removed from her flesh with a disgusting squelch of blood, Nicole curled in on herself, falling to her knees.

"Wha-... cking ki-... -er!"

Cassandra's voice reached her ears broken up, barely passing through the deafening ringing. Miranda also gave a reply and then seemed to address someone else but her much calmer tone meant that it only sounded like a vague mumble.

Not that Nicole particularly cared at the moment.

She curled into a ball, her hands almost clawing at her chest trying to find some sort of relief. It seemed as if vicious tendrils were making their way into every vein and muscle, tearing their way through any tissue they found. Her chest felt as if it had a hot iron pressed directly onto the skin, searing pain radiating in a cruel pulse matching her frantic heartbeat. By that point she was either sobbing or heaving, something that involved shallow breaths for sure. Her lungs were protesting fiercely, emptying of oxygen and then refusing to refill if not with great strain.

To make everything worse, the pain seemed to shift, now engulfing her spine and sending jolts that made her head spin and want to throw up despite her jaws being clenched shut so tightly that she was sure she'd start to taste copper soon.

She was only vaguely aware of hands shifting her body and soothing words that fell on deaf ears. She was now on a softer surface, but that did nothing to alleviate the assault on each of her senses. Probably she had thrown up at a certain point as her sinuses felt like being scraped by sandpaper with each shuddering breath. Her mouth too had a lingering taste of both bile and blood that made her stomach turn all over again. She would give anything for her body to finally shut down.

Why was she still awake and conscious god damn it. There was only so much her body was supposed to take before the brain shut down and she was reaching her limit of how much agony she could endure at a moment.

Please please please just pass out please.

She didn't though. Her body seemingly deciding to feel every single bit of the infection process, complete with the unending waves of pain and nausea that hit her more than she wanted to count. Any bit of sanity left in her would've probably disappeared had she tried.

---

It took two days for the agonizing pain to subside. Another two for Nicole to be able to form any kind of coherent sentence. Cassandra's soothing voice was of immense comfort, always there to tell her how well she was doing and how it would all be better soon.

God she hoped.

On the fifth day, her stomach still lurched at any movement too sudden. Her lungs seemed to fill with blood, courtesy of the still gaping wound at the bottom of her sternum, with any inhale too deep. The fact that she got used to the coppery taste rising up in her throat was disgusting in and of itself. At least there weren't jolts of pain shooting through every nerve and muscle in waves anymore though. That was something.

The fog in her brain was still clearing. It was hard to focus on anything, and each time Cassandra, or anyone else, asked her a question they would have to repeat it at least three times. It was beyond frustrating, the mind that got her through med school drunk half the time was failing the insurmountable task of saying whether or not she'd like some water. Glorious.

A faint knock on the door reached her ears. A redundant gesture really, as she didn't exactly have the clarity of mind to answer. Besides it was hard to catch her in a more compromising state than curled up in the fetal position, covered in sweat and most likely blood clots stuck to her lips.

Esteria came in, her one blue eye that wasn't covered looking at her with all the gentleness neither of her parents had ever offered her. Or it was just the cruel trick of a delirious brain. Either way, light barefoot steps took the Mistress to her bed. She sat in the chair adjacent to it and, with taloned fingers brushing strands of auburn hair out of Nicole's face, she spoke softly.

"How are you feeling today?"

Her voice was just as melodious as ever. It was the voice one imagines they would hear from an ancient being found deep in the forest. It made Nicole just a tad guilty when the only answer she could give was a pathetic whine.

Esteria simply hummed, talons running through the long messy locks of hair sprawled on the sheets.

"Would you like me to braid this for you dear?"

Nicole frowned. The Mistress was an expert at braiding, quick fingers able to make beautiful designs, both simple and complex. Comes with having floor length hair, her hazy mind guessed. On any normal day, Nicole would've accepted without a second thought. But now? Now she was painfully aware of the state she was currently in.

"It's filthy," she croaked, her voice raw and like stones in her mouth.

And it was. Her hair was waist length and right now it was slowly becoming a curse. It was greasy and sweaty thanks to barely being able to move a limb for nearly a week, which meant no showers. Not to mention how she lost count of the times she bent down to empty the contents of her stomach into a bucket, only to have some rebel locks fall in her face and get subsequently dirty. God she felt awful.

Esteria didn't seem to care too much though, as she simply helped Nicole shift slightly and talons started to work at some pesky mats. In no time, her hair was in a comfortable braid that started relatively high, keeping the locks away from her nape which meant just a tad less overheating. Not to mention it kept it in place and away from her mouth that she didn't trust in the slightest right now.

"Thanks," she actually managed to not let her voice crack this time.

"Oh it's no problem. Also," there seemed to be an odd strain in her voice, "Mother Miranda is coming this evening. She said something about an examination."

Nicole couldn't help but openly wince and curl in on herself a little more at the mere mention of the woman. Her chest seemed to pulsate painfully at the memory of the golden talons embedded deep in her flesh. Right now she wanted those hands anywhere away from her.

"What time is it?"

Esteria looked at the clock placed somewhere on the wall behind them. "About twelve. Still got time."

How hard would it be to drag herself to the adjacent bathroom for a quick shower? The only way her situation could get worse was if none other than Mother Miranda came in to see her in that state. She took a deep breath that her lungs protested against and pushed herself onto her elbows. At Esteria's skeptical expression she tried to sound less horrible than she felt.

"I need a shower."

Esteria pursed her lips. "Sorry dear but I don't believe for one second that you can stand for more than a minute. I'll ask a maid to draw you a bath."

Nicole only nodded weakly and let herself fall back into the cushion.

---

It took far longer than Nicole would ever admit to get herself fully clean. Her muscles were sore and protesting at every pass of the soapy sponge. Her hair was a whole other battle and she had to bite down on her pride and ask the maid positioned outside her door for help. It was a tortuous fifteen minutes until the poor girl managed to detangle the long locks enough to be shampooed and washed.

After she was content with the level of cleanliness of her body and the maid was dismissed, she stood there preparing herself to get out of the basin. In the meantime she looked down at the wound at the bottom of her sternum. Maybe wound wasn't the right word. It looked more like a gray and black scar with vein-like tendrils spreading across pale skin. It looked downright gruesome. Miranda really did not try to do a clean job in the slightest. Didn't even think to use anesthesia, like she had with most other experiments, according to Alcina.

She sighed and finally pushed herself out of the water with shaky arms.

By the time Mother Miranda arrived she was feeling slightly better. Why she came personally was still a mystery to Nicole. Maybe some sick sense of satisfaction in seeing her in pain.

Either way, by the time their so-called goddess came into the infirmary and told Nicole to lay down on one of the tables, she managed to shuffle her way over without her body protesting too much. Cassandra also quietly made her way on the opposite side of Miranda, gaining herself a glare.

"Must you hover over her like that?" Miranda's tone was as even as ever, but her eyes betrayed annoyance.

"Does it hinder you?"

Cassandra was not an idiot, the growl she wanted to add into her question was instead replaced by a tone not too dissimilar to Miranda's own, who simply tugged her lips into a grimace.

"Very well."

At first they went through a normal examination. Pupil dilation, reflexes, all things a normal doctor would do. Then Miranda told her to unbutton her blouse so she could take a look at the infection scar.

Nicole couldn't help flinching when thankfully gloved fingers would poke and prod at the sensitive flesh there. Her cold digits felt like hot coals were spread on her chest and nails dragged uselessly on the metal underneath her body for some sort of distraction.

Mother Miranda decided to get a tissue sample and that's when Nicole decided that maybe she would rather spend eternity as a ghost. She squeezed her eyes shut when a scalpel was brought to the overly sensitive skin. It took her back to when she would do autopsies, years ago. Tissue samples were always an integral part of her work. How ironic that she found herself on the other side of things.

It's fine.

She winced when the blade cut into flesh and sent a jolt of pain through her chest. Nicole couldn't help but think of the long days she spent agonizing while her chest felt like it was burning her alive and hoping that it wouldn't repeat. A sigh of pure relief slipped past her lips when whatever fake deity there was besides this woman, listened to her and the sensation died out quickly. She dared to open her eyes, only to see Mother Miranda frowning down at the small vial in hand.

It was quickly given to an assistant and she unceremoniously grabbed Nicole's wrist, dragging the blade across the length of her forearm.

Nicole gasped at the sudden sharp pain, and even Cassandra dropped a few choice words in romanian due to the surprise. No. No no no. What the hell-

Any questions, or less dignified reaction, died in everyone's throats as they watched the skin stitch itself back together. The repairing muscles gave a tingling sensation but soon the only proof that a cut had been there were thin trails of blood.

Mother Miranda chuckled and wrote down something in the notebook she brought with her. "Accelerated healing. That can be of use."

Nicole couldn't help but throw a glance at Alcina, who was sitting in one of the many chairs with Esteria by her side. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of conflicting emotions flashing in her eyes like rapid lightning. She would've tried to decipher their matriarch's probable thoughts were it not for the smell that was starting to assault her senses.

"Ugh what's that…blood… "

Coherent sentences were still not something her brain wanted to do apparently, but judging by how her nose scrunched up in a grimace, Cassandra got the gist of what she meant.

"Um… your arm," she pointed to the still fresh blood slowly dripping from her skin.

Right. Dumbass.

"Or damaged sinuses. Should go away soon," Miranda added from where she was noting something down and giving instructions to her assistant.

Also fair.

She sighed and tried to ignore it. Her sinuses still felt like sandpaper all the way to the back of her throat. Every time she swallowed, it felt like needles scraping the inside of her neck down to her stomach.

Ugh.

Thankfully, Mother Miranda did not linger for much longer. She wrapped up any samples and was out of the room soon after with her assistant in tow. Then, Nicole could finally go back to laying down in bed and feeling miserable.

And miserable she felt. Her body seemed to have decided to rewire itself into its new mutation. It didn't have any effect on her physical appearance, but the insides seemed to want to liquefy only to be mended back together. It was another week of basically living with a bucket in her lap and throwing up blood clots that seemed to invade her lungs and organs. How she didn't straight up asphyxiate was a mystery that she didn't think she wanted solved.

And to top it off, she was starting to think that humidity from some leaky pipe somewhere in the castle was causing a slight mold problem. Almost everywhere she went, there was this faint moldy scent lingering in the air and it was mixing horribly with the coppery feeling inside her still offended throat and sinuses. Nobody seemed bothered by it though, so maybe it was simply a side effect of the infection that was yet to go away. It wasn’t nicknamed the Mold for nothing, after all.

[slasherhaven]

Slashers with a short curvy reader

The Slashers with a short, curvy S/O:

Thomas Hewitt 

His guilty pleasure is how much shorter you are than him. He feels like it’s wrong but he absolutely loves how much taller he is than you. He loves how he towers over you and you have to crane your neck to look up at him. Normally his height and size is a cause of intimidation with other people, but you aren’t scared of him, you love him, you’re gentle with him. He also likes when you can’t reach things and he has to get it for you, he doesn’t really know why he just thinks it’s adorable.

Adores your curves. He has a hard time not touching you. He just loves having a hand on you, on your hips or your thighs. Your so soft and warm, he can’t help it. Whenever you wear tightfitting clothes, he has to tear his gaze away from you, he is extremely flustered under that mask.

Scared of hurting you. While he loves how much smaller you are than him, it worries him at the same time. He’s scared that he’s going to hurt you. He could crush you! So, he’s very gentle with you and needs some reassurance and encouragement to be a little more firm handed with you at time.

Michael Myers

Finds you adorable and absolutely unthreatening. You’re tiny, and he will pat the top of your head to remind you of that. But he genuinely think you’re adorable, the way you can’t even wrap your arms around his shoulders without him having to lean down.

When you’re angry you remind him of a mad puppy. You can cross your arms, stomp your feet, glare up at him, or shout all you want. You just make him think of an angry Chihuahua.

Loves that he can just pick you up. He likes that he can just throw you over his shoulder or move you out the way when he wants too. And he just finds it amusing whenever you huff about it.

Jason Voorhees 

He’s extra protective over you and extra careful. He doesn’t mean too but he subconsciously connects your height with being fragile, at least compared to him. It could be so easy to accidentally hurt you and that thought terrifies him. He would never, ever, want to hurt you. So all of his touches are very careful and gentle, almost frustratingly so. He gains more confidence with enough reassurance and encouragement though.

Loves your curves. Jason does absolutely love your curves, they were a cause of plenty inappropriate thoughts before he was comfortable with those feelings. But now, he’s not ashamed of his love for your body and you’re aware of it. He loves just resting his hand on your waist, your hip, your a thigh. It’s not even a sexual thing and you know that, he just loves how soft you are.

Brahms Heelshire

Loves how short you are. You’re just adorable, absolutely precious, and he does like how much taller he is than you. He likes just looming over you, giggling at how short you are. It can get a little annoying but it’s not that bad. He thinks it’s cute when you can’t reach things and he likes being the person you ask to get something for you, he loves the praise you give him afterwards even more.

Will drool over your curves. He can be a bit of a pervert but that shouldn’t be surprising, you catch him staring at you all the time. He’s often staring at you, watching you move, but he’s also always touching you. He’s handsy and will grope you almost constantly unless you establish that he can’t just do that.

Bo Sinclair

Tries to intimidate you with his own height. Bo is relatively tall man but seems a whole lot taller when compared to you, and he likes that a lot. He’ll move into your personal space, forcing you to look up at his face, liking that it makes you look submissive to him.

Finds you near irresistible. He likes having a hand on you most of the time anyway but your curves make it almost impossible for him to resist, he often has a hand on your hip. When at home, he likes having you sit on his lap, a hand resting on your soft thigh. As I’m sure you suspect, it never just ends with an innocent hand resting on your thigh.

Vincent Sinclair 

Extra protective over you. He just thinks you’re so precious and he just can’t see you being able to defend yourself against an escaped victim, so he just likes to make extra sure that you’re safe. This also results in him being pretty gentle with you. He’s relatively tall but seems so much taller when compared to you, he just wants to be gentle and loving with you.

Can’t get enough of you. He loves your curves and your body. He’s always sketching them, even when he doesn’t realise it until it’s finished. Whenever he’s touching you, it’s like he’s worshiping you. Just in awe of your body and how you feel under his palms.

Honestly, just loves hugging you. Vincent loves how you fit in his arms, how your head only comes up to his chest, and how he can practically engulf you with his embrace.

Lester Sinclair

You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. Lester isn’t a particularly tall man, he’s shorter than his brothers, and he’s used to most people being about his height, give or take a few inches. You make him look tall in comparison though. He really doesn’t care about his height, he’s never had a problem with it, but he has thoughts on your height. He thinks you’re just adorable. You’re height and your soft curves makes you the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.

Unlocks a whole new protective side of him. Him seeing you as such a sweet thing, and being a person that he loves so dearly, a new protectiveness is awoken in him. Ambrose is a dangerous place and he doesn’t like the idea of you having anything to do with it.

Tries his best to keep his hands to himself. If he had it his way, he’d be touching you all the time, innocently or not. He actively makes sure to stay respectful, until you notice and assure him that it’s okay, that you don’t mind, that you even want him too. Then he will be touching you all the time.

Bubba Sawyer

Gosh, you’re adorable. Bubba likes cute things and you’re just the cutest of them all. All he wants is to love you and be loved by you.

Wants to protect you. The house is very dangerous and his brothers are very boisterous, he just wants to keep you safe from it all. He’s very protective when his brothers are around. Nubbins and ChopTop never mean you any harm but Bubba doesn’t want to risk them dragging you into any danger. His protectiveness when it comes to Drayton is a little more justified I suppose.

Loves cuddling with you. You’re so soft and you fit in his arms so well, he loves the feeling of you cuddling into his chest as he holds you.

Billy Lenz

Cute little piggy. That’s the name he gives you over the phone, more fond and affectionate than what he calls anyone else that answers the phone. That’s because you’re his favourite, you have been since he first laid eyes on you.

Can’t keep his hands off of you. Of course you get a whole lot of perverted comments but that’s nothing new with him, but he also can’t stop touching you. You’re soft and warm and loving, he just can’t help himself if his hands wander!

Loves cuddling with you. You’re soft and comfortable and you fit in his hold so perfectly. Of course, this is the perfect chance for him to let his hands wander over your curves, stroking and squeezing without even realising that he’s doing it for the most part.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

He just has to have you. As soon as Asa sees you, he knows he has to have you. He doesn’t really have an eye for cute things, his interests are a little darker, but he doesn’t think you’re adorable. The height, how short you are compared to him, and your soft curves. Why wouldn’t he want you?

Thinks your height makes you just precious. The way you have to look up at him makes you look submissive to him, and he loves that more than anything.

His touches can be surprisingly gentle.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) 

Adores that he towers over you. He towers over most people but he really towers over you and he loves it, but so do you.

Likes to tease you. He’s a tall man and he’s much taller than you. He just finds it amusing when you try to give him a kiss or wrap your arms around his neck but simply...can’t. He can’t help but chuckle at your frustration before leaning down and giving you what you want.

Has a thing for picking you up or having you on his lap. It’s just so easy! He’ll pick you up so that you wrap your legs around his waist, it’s so easy for him to just carry you around, and he thinks it’s pretty cute. Even when you’re sitting on his lap, you look small compared to him, he enjoys that.

Is always touching you. He doesn’t need an excuse to touch you, whether it’s protective, possessive, or affectionate, it doesn’t matter. He’s always got a hand on you.

Otis Driftwood

Lot’s of teasing, lot’s of pet names. It’s mostly based on your height and it’s always with a fondness and affection, but he just loves messing with you. He loves getting you flustered, he thinks it’s adorable.

Always has a hand on you. It’s those curves of yours, how can you expect him to keep his hands off of you when you’re just so enticing?

Loves having you on his lap. If he had it his way, you would always be on his lap. Having you resting against his chest, his hands on your thighs or on your hips, being less than subtle about it.

Baby Firefly 

Just thinks you’re the cutest. She will throw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her and kissing the top of your head before smiling brightly down at you. And when you blush? She just loves it. No matter how much you tell her to quit teasing you, she just can’t.

Always teasing and complimenting you. If she isn’t playfully teasing you about your height, she’s complimenting you on your curves. Oh she adores your body and makes sure to tell you that every day.

Yautja (Predator)

You are tiny compared to him. Since the majority of Yautjas are at least 7 foot or taller, you are just tiny in comparison. This makes you even more precious to your mate but he also becomes a whole lot more protective over you.

It all makes you even more adorable. He does just think you’re adorable and is very honest about that but he takes so much pride in you being his mate. He’s well aware of his strength so he knows how to be gentle with you, and he is very gentle until he becomes comfortable that you aren’t as easily broken as he may have assumed.

You’re so small and soft. It’s not something that Yautjas are typically used too, you’re so small compared to his imposing stature, and softness is so foreign to him. It makes him love you all the more, he’s absolutely obsessed with it.

[bunglebees]

random denki headcanons

denki freakin’ DOMINATES at strategy games

it’s definitely one of his surprise talents & he feels really good after receiving compliments, even if they’re backhanded (”oh, you’re really good at chess, kami! i’m surprised!”)

denki loves praise. he’s been looked down on most of his life, whether that be by his peers, his family, or himself. genuine compliments always strike him and render him speechless for once

he is THE best liar in 1a

(tw: family problems) i’ve briefly touched on it before, but he doesn’t have great home life. 

before moving into the dorms, he was basically always by himself since his mother was never home. he had to do most things himself, like clean/cook/etc and go shopping with what little money they had. 

he’s worked multiple part-time jobs, usually ones that involve electricity (like in heroes rising), just so he can buy necessities with his own money rather than have it go to waste on other things

he and his mother don’t have a good relationship regardless and he doesn’t feel comfortable being alone with her, so he would try to stay with his aunt whenever she wasn’t doing hero work

it seriously hurts his feelings when people don’t help him after he’s short-circuited. he was hoping that after coming to UA he might gather some friends that care about him enough to help him when he’s in obvious pain, but he’s still laughed at...

he voiced this to the bakusquad one day after a particularly bad short-circuit that left him in recovery girl’s office for a while. he broke down sobbing as he explained to them how it makes him feel when people watch him suffer and laugh like he’s doing it for their entertainment. 

it broke their hearts to see him so vulnerable, and after that they made it their mission to protect him when he over-does it. 

katsuki and hanta are particularly quick to fight anyone who tries to make fun of him

he touches his friends hands/arms/shoulders a lot when he gets excited. it’s super cute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

absolutely loves pokemon. whenever they see pikachu in public they always point it out to whoever’s with them and go “he’s just like me fr” 

anyone other than mina/hanta/hitoshi are long-suffering

knows how to knit/crochet!!! 

was definitely a theatre kid & loves musicals!! 

meeting eijirou’s moms for the first time was a TRIP bc once he found out one of them loves musicals too, he was immediately adopted

has a ferret named rochambeau (ro for short)

of course the baby loves literature and english!! him and momo always have the highest scores in english, and cementoss loves his input in his literature class

you bet ur ass present mic & him are tight af. definitely speak to each other in english when they see each other!!

he actually considered doing his work study with mic for a little while, & as honored as mic was, he convinced him it was a better idea to train under someone he didn’t know for more experience

he really admires kamui and enjoys talking to shiozaki outside of school!!

after being around m*neta for a few months in their first year, denki quickly realized that he’s not the kind of person they want to hang around...

him & kyoka hang out all the time!! they like trying out different restaurants that have live music whenever they have free time. sometimes mashirao, hitoshi, koji, or izuku join them since they like low-key digs

love-hate relationship with storms. 

loves them because they’re pretty, they smell good, he likes to look at the clouds & see the rain & see the lightning & hear the thunder with his nose pressed against the glass, likes to walk around after it’s finished, etc.

hates them because it gives him a lot of anxiety, makes him incredibly staticky, they make him nauseous, he’s super jumpy, and if he’s anywhere outside/near windows he’s at high risk for being a human lightning rod

that not only endangers others, but himself because of how much voltage his body is taking in at once

he gets annoyed when anyone who isn’t his friend asks him to charge something

if he offers, it’s fine -- but if he doesn’t know you and you’re like “i hear you are a power bank” he will roll his eyes and say something snarky

resident hoodie thief. no one’s clothes are safe in the dorms

he loves hanging out in everyone’s room if they’re cool with it!! he’s rarely in his own unless he’s playing games/needs alone time

one of the top three people aizawa commonly finds sleeping in weird places (the other two are ochako and hitoshi)

him 🤝ochako growing up poor 

together they introduce their rich friends to things they grew up making, like pizza roll-ups/microwaved “nachos”/etc

he’s super good with toddlers, not so good with kids (he can’t think of a response when they roast him a little too honestly)

wants to hold people’s babies but he doesn’t know how✊😔 

runs a joint meme account with the bakusquad (katsuki has never posted on it but has the notifications on for his personal account)

twitter fiend. will fight anyone he can. his feed is beyond fucked

if anyone is nice to him one (1) time, he develops a crush on them and has a mild crisis as to whether or not he’s actually interested or they were literally doing the bare minimum

catboy tiktok. everyone’s pretty used to seeing him in maid dresses at this point

[dysfunctionalcrab]

babysitter

pairing: georgenotfound x reader

pronouns: gender neutral

description: george is left to babysit your niece

warnings: mentions of a future family? just in case that makes you uncomfortable.

[y/n/n] - your nieces name

[y/s/n] - your siblings name (gender neutral too)

note: i’m not too sure about this imagine, please a like or reply if you actually enjoyed! - niss

you woke up to the sound of your alarm blasting your ear off, if you hadn’t turned it off right there you probably would have gone deaf.

george was sleeping like a baby beside you, you could hear his quiet snores. you were surprised he didn’t wake up to the sound of your ear-piercing alarm.

turning on your phone, you glanced at the time that read 12:30. you sighed in annoyance as you registered that you only had half an hour before you had to be on your way to university. so you got up and began your normal morning routine, brush your teeth, shower, have breakfast and finally get dressed. however, as you were packing your bag, almost ready to go, you received a notification from your [sibling]

[y/s/n]: we’re 5 minutes away!!!

[y/s/n]: thank you so much for agreeing to do this :)

fuck.

it completely slipped your mind. you had promised to take care of [y/n/n] for today, your 7 year old niece, while your [sibling] was at their job interview. regardless, you texted them a quick ‘no problem’ before rushing upstairs to wake up george.

he was still sleeping, but now he was completely hiding under the covers with one arm sticking out. you hated to interrupt his beauty sleep but this was more important. you began to shake him awake.

“babe,” you shook him

“wake up,”

“george,” you removed the covers off his face

“wake the fuck up!” you started poking his sides. usually, you would be a little less... harsh, but you were panicking.

finally the boy rose from his slumber, groaning and stretching all his limbs. he blinked a couple times before meeting your eyes

“good morning,” he said softly, as if he completely just disregarded your tone of desperation and worry.

you pulled him by his arm and he sat upright,

“you need to get up right now,” you told him

“what’s going on?” he questioned, clearly confused as you weren’t giving him any context

“you need to take care of [y/n/n] for today, i have classes today, and i need to leave in 5 minutes and [y/s/n] has a job interview and there’s nobody else to take care of her,” you rushed out all in once sentence.

“are you serious?” he narrowed his eyes at you. “you know how bad i am with kids, especially [y/n/n] , she hates me,”

that was partly true. unfortunately, your niece wasn’t exactly fond of george. ever since you even started dating,m, [y/n/n] acted cold towards your boyfriend, it only got worse when you moved in with him. she always refused to play a game if george was going to participate, or never accepted any high fives or hellos from him. you felt sympathy for george. this child despised him and now you were asking him to look after her.

“please, i’m begging you,” you looked at him with pleading eyes. his eyes softened up after recognising the urgency of the situation.

“fine,” he agreed. you sighed out of satisfaction that you didn’t have to stress out [y/s/n] over finding a new baby sitter.

“thank you so much,” you pressed a small kiss to his lips appreciatively.

right at that moment, you two heard the doorbell ring. you urged george to get ready as fast as he could while you went down stairs and greeted your [sibling] and your niece.

“auntie/uncle [y/n]!” [y/n/n] yelled as you opened the door, immediately rushing into your arms. she looked a lot taller than the last time you saw her

“how’s my favourite girl?” you picked her up and swung her, before placing a little kiss on her head

you gave your [sibling] a quick hug. they handed you a bag full of toys, teddies and colouring pens, along with a spare set of clothing just in case [y/n/n] got a little messy throughout the day. and some quick reminders about her favourite foods or how to get her stop crying. you’d looked after her before, so all of it was pretty familiar to you

“again, thank you so, so much, you have no idea how much you’re helping me.” they told you. your [sibling] gave [y/n/n] a kiss on the cheek and told her to be a ‘good and kind little girl’ before finally exiting the household.

george, at last, made his way down. wearing a decent pair of jeans and a hoodie, giving an awkward wave to [y/n/n]

you checked the time and knew you had to get going. you had to explain to her that uncle george was going to be the one looking after her today. and after one whole tantrum, you managed to convince her to be a good girl by promising to give her a big reward afterward.

finally, you kissed [y/n/n] and george a goodbye , then shut the front door behind you.

george and [y/n/n] stood opposite each other. there was an uncomfortable silence in the air. george felt so...he didn’t even know. what do you say to a child who hates you? [y/n/n] tightly clutched her bag of toys.

“so, [y/n/n],” george cleared his throat, he bent down to her level. “i hear you like toy story?”

[y/n/n] pouted “i don’t like you” she said, and stomped away.

george sighed. this was going to be a long day.

and it was.

-

it started off with [y/n/n] innocently using her colouring pens and drawing random things, you know, as children do. but when she ran out of paper, she made her way to your office, where all your uni work was. she grabbed the closest piece of paper that was sitting on your desk, deciding it was going to be the next canvas for her art. this paper just happened to be a very important assignment.

when george caught her in the act, he had to physically tear her away from your office, in defiance of all her kicking and screaming.

-

then, when george accidently left the door to your shared bedroom open. [y/n/n] waddled in without him noticing, she started playing with all of his devices. his computer, his microphone, and somehow she got a hold of his headphones, and took out the battery. george didn’t realise until he noticed the cover missing. he tried to ask her nicely where she threw the battery. but she insisted that she wasn’t going to give it back unless he stopped being ‘mean’

-

when lunch time rolled around, george put a pizza in the oven, he remembered clearly that [y/n/n] loved pizza, specifically pepperoni. nothing could go wrong here.

but when he called her to the kitchen so she could receive her lunch. she just stared blankly at the pizza, and then at him. she crossed her arms

“[y/n] usually makes a smiley face with the pepperoni”

george just felt all his will to live just disappear

-

coloured pens and toys were spread out all across the living room floor, [y/n/n] was sitting in front of the tv, george put on one of her favourite shows which thankfully distracted her for a bit, allowing him to relax. he pulled out his phone and texted you

to [y/n] <3 : help me please

to [y/n] <3: i cant take this anymore, i’m literally dying rn

to [y/n] <3: come home quick

he exhaled heavily, throwing his phone to the side. he was so exhausted.

[y/n/n] was roleplaying with her toys, making them move around and doing squeaky little voices. george smiled at the innocence

“purple bear doesn’t play with us anymore. princess giraffe, mr. george took her away from us,” she spoke in a high pitched voice

george’s ears perked up. how funny that she had a teddy named ‘mr. george’. curiously, he watched the little girl.

“koala george, is a meanie, he stole purple bear and now they don’t want to hang out with us!”

it didn’t take a genius to find out what [y/n/n] was displaying through her role playing teddies.

that was why she didn’t like george. before they got together, [y/n] mentioned they almost spent every weekend with [y/n/n], playing with her and having fun with her.

she felt abandoned by [y/n] and felt as if george had taken them away from her .

george felt at fault as he noticed the girls eyes started to water.

“does purple bear love us any more?” she continued to play.

george decided it was enough and he switched off the television. he joined [y/n/n] on the floor and grabbed the teddy that was supposedly ‘koala george’

“[y/n/n]” he spoke softly. the little girl looked up at him expectantly. he held up the teddy.

“is this supposed to be me?” he questioned her.

“that’s a koala bear,” she answered

“no-, [y/n/n],” he said. he thought about how to ask her, and just chose it was best to be flat out with the child,”

“did i steal auntie/uncle [y/n] away from you?”

the question took her by surprise. she gazed at him with big wide eyes. she thought about her answer and grabbed the purple bear, which was supposed to be you.

“they don’t play with me as much anymore, they’re always with you, because of you, they don’t love me anymore,” she pulled a face, it wasn’t angry, it wasn’t annoyed.

it was a genuinely sad face.

george was sure he physically felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. he never even comprehended the fact that a child could feel so rejected.

“listen... [y/n/n],” he said gently. he thought about his words. comforting someone wasn’t exactly his strongest point, particularly not a child who detested him “[y/n] will never stop loving you, okay? they love you very much, and i’m sorry you feel like i stole them ”

[y/n/n] continued to listen.

“but don’t forget that [y/n] has so much love to go around! look, they love you, and they love me, they love grandma and grandpa too! they will always love one another even if they can’t see each other often,”

[y/n/n] stayed silent. she fiddled with the purple teddy, folding its ears and patting its head. she loved that bear. it was actually gifted to her by you, when she was first born. she brought it to her chest and hugged it. george tried a different approach.

“listen, how about- this weekend, we can all go to the park together, and have a picnic. you, me, [y/n], and your parents too,”

she continued to just stay silent. george didn’t know what to expect, she was unpredictable, was she going to throw another hissy fit? or start to cry? he wasn’t sure

“can we also get ice cream?” she asked

george smiled and felt himself relax. thank god. “all the ice cream you want,” he told her

[y/n/n] stood up and giggled. like her whole entire mood did a whole fucking 180. “okay! let’s go play dress up now!”

———

7:45 pm. you finally arrived home. you were tired out of your mind. [y/s/n]’s interview was delayed by two hours and was currently half way back home, meaning you had enough time to spend with [y/n/n]

you unlocked the door, expecting to see a giant tsunami of toys and colouring pencils and pens, but what you saw was the most heart warming thing ever.

george was sleeping on the couch, his head resting on the armrest. he had a couple pink bows in his hair, his lips were painted a hot pink, he was wearing a couple sparky bracelets and a purple floral necklace.

in his lap, [y/n/n] rested her head, she was wearing a fairy costume with matching pink bows and sparkly bracelets.

you quickly snapped a photo of this wholesome moment. because, who wouldn’t? you spent a few minutes just watching the two sleep, they were probably just as tired as you.

moments like these made you really appreciate the people you had in your life. the people you love so dearly much.

you didn’t want to disrupt the ambience but you felt it was better for your [sibling] to collect your niece when she wasn’t covered in glitter and an overload of pink accessories.

you quietly woke george up,

“baby, wake up.” you shook him awake, gently. in a very different way than you did this morning. he opened his eyes. and immediately smiled upon seeing your face. you ran your thumb across his cheek

“it looks like you two had a lot of fun,” you teased.

he quietly chuckled. “she’s okay,” he told you. looking down at the little girl sleeping in his lap.

you slowly and carefully picked her up, removing any accessories you thought may seem uncomfortable to sleep in. she was a heavy sleeper.

you carried her upstairs, tucking her into you and george’s bed and placing a kiss upon her forehead. you turned back to george and rushed in for a bear hug

“thank you so much for doing that,” you said. “i love you so much, i know it probably wasn’t easy, she can be quite the handful,”

george chuckled. “handful is an understatement,”

“you’d better be willing to dress up like that with our own kids one day.” you stated, hugging him tighter.

his face broke out into a small smile, having thought of an image of you two playing with you future kids. he kissed top of your head and then your nose

“maybe one day”

———

masterlist

[asmallnerd]

Autistic Shoto Todoroki

The analysis

First off, I would like to say that this is purely a passion project. I am not a professional, I am an autistic teenager and I’m just very interested in this character because I heavily relate to him. I’ve collected some scenes from the manga and two specific things from the third light novel.

If you could boost this (if you’re interested that’d be great because while I really enjoy doing this it does take a lot of time! With that being said let’s dive into this and I hope you find this interesting!

Could Shoto Todoroki be autistic? Here is why I think he absolutely could.

Emotional perception

Let’s start with one of the most obvious things about his character. The emotional factor.

Shoto doesn’t emote in the way his peers do. Now, of course this also plays into the brooding mysterious guy archetype, but that’s not what we’re talking about.

Shoto’s face is typically relatively neutral, this is apparent from the moment we first meet him and while he does tend to express his emotions more clearly later in the story, it doesn’t ever really change. Something that immediately comes to mind is how in chapter 202 Iida asks if Shoto is alright because Iida noticed his expression change (because he knows him very well by this point). Ojiro points out that he did not notice this, since Shoto’s face barely changes at all.

We see Shoto in a lot of situations where his peers show excitement while his expression remans completely flat. This lack of emoting is something extremely common in people with autism. It’s not that they don’t have emotions or don’t express them at all, they just do it in a way that is hard to understand for people outside the spectrum or those who don’t know the autistic individual very well. They often struggle to understand what emotion they’re feeling in the first place and of course it’s hard to express feelings if you don’t know what you’re feeling.

Shoto doesn’t only show difficulty expressing his emotions but also recognizing those of other people. One of the best examples of this is the final exam arc, where he gets paired up with Yaoyorozu. In chapter 63 specifically, he doesn’t realize that Yaoyorozu is upset about something even though to someone else it’d probably have been obvious. Only when Aizawa points out that he should listen to her does he notice that he’s been doing something wrong. Shoto didn’t notice she was upset, and he didn’t notice he was being rude.

Emotions and emotional responses are continuously shown to be difficult for Shoto to handle. What he has absolutely no issues with, on the other hand, are academics. Of course, we can naturally assume that he’s been drilled to study hard from a very young age, but he is also extremely intelligent outside of the classroom. During the sports festival he is the first person shown to figure out that the obstacle course poses a lot more disadvantages to the people in the lead, during the practical exam, he is able to come up with a solid strategy very quickly.

During the training camp arc, him and Deku are the ones to come up with a strategy to protect Bakugo on the spot. He also doesn’t seem to consider his intelligence anything special. A lot of autistic people tend to assume that other people’s experiences align with their own. This can be seen when he seems surprised about Denki worrying that he’ll fail the written final exam. He asks how he could possibly fail if he’s been attending class, like the concept is entirely foreign to him (also there’s about a 0% chance this was a joke because this is Shoto we’re talking about.) He is very good at logical problem solving but emotional issues seem to stump him.

Literacy and verbal filters

Moving on, another big factor that Shoto seems to struggle with is his tendency to be overly literal and very blunt. There are several instances where he says things that we as readers as well as other characters perceive as insensitive. Once again, his interaction with Denki about the final exams (chapter 60) can be an example. He didn’t seem to think it was inappropriate and because this is Shoto, he didn’t ask to tease him either. Denki even points out that this was insensitive to say. A more subtle example is his conversation with Izuku in chapter 73, when they talk about Kota. His overall phrasing is fine, but he remains very blunt and direct and essentially ends up telling Izuku that his tendency to cut to people’s hearts with his words is annoying.

My personal favorite for an example can be found in chapter 83, in the hospital after the training camp, when the class visits Izuku, Shoto points out that “Of course Bakugo isn’t here.” Needless to say, he couldn’t possibly have timed this statement any worse. It wasn’t necessary in the first place, but he didn’t register it as something inappropriate to say.

One example of not him being unintentionally rude but just showing a different approach to telling the truth is seen in the third light novel. The fifth chapter revolves around the class preparing a birthday party for Iida. At one point, Sato asks if Iida has food allergies out of nowhere. Iida naturally asks why he needs to know this, Shoto is immediately ready to answer the question honestly, which would have spoiled the surprise, had Izuku not stepped in.

Autistic people often have trouble seeing whether something is or isn’t appropriate to say. Neurotypical people’s brains have a filtering process, it helps them be aware of possible responses to a statement. This filtering process is not functional or only limited in autistic people.

Shoto is also overly literal. In chapter 57, he gets upset over his friends continuously getting their hands hurt and refers to himself as “the hand crusher”. He is very serious about this and does not understand how Iida and Izuku could possibly think he was joking.

In chapter 164, he answers Gang Orca’s metaphoric question entirely seriously. During the interview training in chapter 241 he first seems confused by the made-up mission in the first place. He then proceeds to ask Mt Lady if she has a heart condition when she uses the phrase “My heart would burst out of my chest”. Finally, he appears genuinely horrified when she calls him a “lady killer” (“My smile will kill women..?!”)

In chapter 257, when Mineta claims school talk will “ruin the taste of the food”, Shoto simply says it tastes the same to him, to which Mineta proceeds to call him out for being overly literal.

Autistic people typically struggle to understand jokes and sarcasm, in fact, it’s often one of the main characteristics in people with an ASD diagnosis.

Overfamiliarity and Oversharing

Shoto’s tendency to overshare is another thing that is very typical foe ASD.

He doesn’t seem to understand that telling his life story to a classmate he’s barely interacted with prior is not exactly an appropriate thing to do. He repeats this later with All Might and, most notably, in chapter 165, when talking to the preschoolers during his provisional licensing course.

He also seems to have a slightly different perception of what makes someone friends than his classmates. As shown in chapter 241, to him, spending time with Bakugo during the licensing course is enough to deem them friends. Even when Bakugo points out that there is no correlation between the time spent together and friendship, he still doesn’t seem to understand.

Autistic people tend to become overly familiar and are easily attached to people if they perceive just one of their interactions as positive.

Attachment to inanimate things

This is something not really shown in the manga, but noteworthy, nonetheless. We know that Shoto, upon moving into the dorm building, remodeled his entire room from a modern, more western style room, into a traditional Japanese style one. The second chapter of the third novels goes into depth about why he did this. Shoto was entirely dumbstruck and thrown off by how different the room is from what he was used to. He knew the traditional Japanese rooms from home and his brain assumed that the dorms would be the same. He felt like the different style was wrong. He doesn’t like the unfamiliar flooring and even a small thing like the positioning of the light switch bother him.

He’s not comfortable in the unfamiliar environment, so he decides to change it.

Autistic people often struggle to adjust to changes. In environment and routine. They feel most comfortable in a well established and familiar routine, that includes the feel of their living space. A change of environment this drastic would be extremely stressful for someone on the spectrum.

Another thing that isn’t particularly obvious but does make sense when considered is that Shoto seems to have a comfort food (cold soba). While he’s never shown or stated to be a picky eater he does seem to opt for the same food whenever he gets the chance. Autistic people often have a very restricted diet due to sensory processing issues that apply to food textures, smells and taste.

Additional points

Shoto seems to be a little face blind. He doesn’t know who Kota is when Izuku mentions him, which seems to genuinely surprise Izuku. He also didn’t remember Inasa at all despite them having been at the same entrance exam.

In chapter 202 he’s shown completely zoning out. Of course, this can happen to anyone, I just found it interesting because it was shown so clearly, making it obvious that it was something we should pay attention to.

In the novel chapter in which he remodels his room it is also mentioned that the feeling of synthetic floor against his feet upsets him.

Shoto also seems relatively indifferent to temperature. Of course, that would correlate to his quirk as well, but it is also common for autistic people to struggle with temperature perception as well as other things that neurotypical people don’t struggle to recognize like hunger or thirst. This specifically applies to situations where you would typically end up in pain like, for example, frostbite. Shoto would obviously be used tot his but him showing no reaction at all to his body halfway freezing over was a little unnerving.

He also is shown to be relatively uninterested in certain social events like for example the room competition after the class moves into the dorms. He doesn’t want to be there; he’d rather go to sleep. In the beginning he also shows clear disinterest in making friends with his classmates. Both very typical things for people on the spectrum.

In chapter 244, Hawks asks Shoto a question in a way that seems to confuse him so much he can’t even form a coherent response. [Hawks: “Seemed like you were in trouble, Endeavor.” Endeavor: “Me? Not a chance.” Hawks: “But it seemed that way, didn’t it, Shoto?” Shoto: “Um..I…uh…”]

He probably didn’t register if Hawks actually wanted him to answer or not.

In chapter 64 he mistakes Yaoyorozu crying for her feeling sick, horribly misreading her expressions.

This last point is more personal than the rest, watching his reactions to Endeavor’s fight with the Nomu in chapter 190 made me think of the stress progression that often causes autistic shutdowns. Shoto was clearly becoming more and more stressed as he was watching and once it was over simply seemed to shut down. That is a very typical response to emotional distress or overstimulation in autistic people.

Final disclaimer

This is purely for my own entertainment; it is not meant to be offensive to anyone and I am not saying that this is absolutely what is going on. I’m simply elaborating on a theory/headcanon that I have. That being said, if you have questions feel free to drop them in the ask box, I’d be thrilled!

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain, Blurb 3

Technically the third in a blurb-ish series (though this is kinda long for a blurb lol) but can technically be read as a stand alone, but i think the other parts make this seem more significant lol

A/n kinda angsty, not sure if i loveeee this but i haven’t posted a fic in such a long time bc of graduation chaos but now it’s summer and i’m working on a lot of requests/stories :))

Summary: jealousy is out of place when there’s no real warrant for it, and sometimes it’s okay to be content--to not need the rain to make you promises. 

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! reader

--

Tiredness dulls the part of me that craves the rambunctious, but I’m still positive. I smile when someone does something only the truly inebriated find comical. I laugh when something somewhat actually funny happens, and I let the world around me drink. Twenty minutes--in twenty minutes I will claim a headache and go upstairs. 

“You okay, y/n?” Jesper’s concern would border on genuinely considerate if it wasn’t for the slightest hint of slur in his words. Nights in which he consols himself after losing game after game are when he’s the friendliest. “You’re strangely quiet--you’re never quiet.” 

I press my lips together oddly, smiling in a way that finally reaches my eyes. Jesper’s nice in an oddly particular way when he’s tipsy. Overly observant and careful. “Just a little tired,” I shift in my seat, leaning back against the plush seat in Kaz’s office, “I wish Kaz would just get here and dismiss us so I can go to bed.” 

Jesper smiles, lifting his arm slightly and causing his glass to sway. Kaz is not going to take it well when he realizes that Jesper was extremely involved in the downstairs celebration. He turns ungracefully, moving to sit next to me with no warning. I half-heartedly glare as he takes up most of the small couch. 

“You’re grumpy when you’re tired,” Jesper hums, stretching his casually. 

I sigh once, but it lacks any bite. “I do not.” 

He smiles easily, tilting his head so far to the side that it falls against the back of the seat, “No...but I know the real reason you’re grumpy.” 

Rolling my eyes, I suppress my instinctual reaction. That would only expose his words as true. “I am not grumpy, there is no reason--” 

“You know he hated it.” 

I exhale, tired and slowly losing my fragine hold on fake tranquility. “Yeah.” That should make it  better. “I know.” It doesn’t--it doesn’t make anything better. 

So the contact we so desperately needed on our side took to flirting with Kaz. It was an uncomfortable situation because of its precariousness and I was worried because I know about his issues with touch. But it’s not like I care about the flirting part. No. It was unprofessional and so easily turned messy--that’s what my problem was.

Jesper sighs, stretching even more. I let him stretch his legs over me, too tired to push him off. I sigh, setting my chin on his bent knees. “What’s with the face, l/n?” 

I roll my eyes again. Sometimes having someone care about you is annoying. I take back all of my positive thoughts about him--Jesper Fahey is an annoying drunk. 

“There’s no face,” despite my words, I feel my expression sour even further. Jesper’s expression shifts from that of gentle worry to teasing pride. “And if there was one, it wouldn’t be because of Kaz Brekker.”

Jesper’s lips twitch upwards, something strange tainting his tipsy grin. “I never said a name.” 

“One more condescending comment, and I’m shoving you off this damn couch.” 

He laughs flatly, shifting closer and making himself more comfortable. Drunk and touchy--anyone else would have been slapped by now. “You’re nicer after some of this.” 

He holds his glass out towards me casually, amber liquid sloshing slightly. I blink at the liquid with slight disinterest. I’m not exactly in the drinking mood...but I’m not exactly in the mood for any of this. The sound of the door opening doesn’t phase me--it’s not Inej, because she never lets herself be heard. Kaz doesn’t say anything, taking one dull step and then another, footsteps leaching the room of any warmth. The coldness he exudes so easily as a mask is strong tonight, I haven’t even looked at him and I can feel it. 

Maybe I do need a drink. 

I take the glass from Jesper, taking a quick and shallow sip of the liquid. It’s offensive in smell, taste, and the way it spills down my throat. The taste is much more intense than expected, some of the liquid slips past the corner of my mouth. Somehow more bitter than this moment, the liquid leaves me ready to splutter like a child. I exhale, pushing through the burning. Jesper moves his hand forward absentmindedly, wiping a single drop of liquid from my chin carelessly. The gesture would be sweet if my throat burned less. 

“Jesper,” the warmth of the alcohol takes root in my chest, “That’s--” He laughs at my reaction, coaxing a smile from me. “Like literally the worst--why do you even have this?” If this is served in the Crow Club, I’ve never heard of it, this is the kind of under the counter alcohol that isn’t mass produced. 

He laughs a little more freely. “Won it off of someone passing through--I don’t always lose.” 

I wrinkle my nose, “An outlier shouldn’t be--” 

“Oh, shut up.” Jesper laughs again. 

“Both of you ‘shut up’,” Kaz sighs, stepping further into the room, “If you need to drink, at least wait until after my meeting.” I frown, ignoring Kaz’s lingering and sharp gaze, “You should all follow Inej’s example.” 

“We can’t even see Inej.” 

Kaz raises an eyebrow, but he regards me with nothing but voidness. He’s never exactly emotive, but normally in moments like this something I can never interpret touches his expression, coloring it human. “Exactly.” 

“You’re funnier than people give you credit for.” The comment isn’t exactly sarcastic, but it’s something lighter than I should be offering. It’s an attempt at peace, the slight stiffness between us is starting to bother me. Our usual dynamic isn’t exactly friendly, but it’s more than this. Kaz glares. “But not tonight.” 

His expression hardens. “Business is business. It’s not humor, it’s not whatever you try to make it.” Right. Just like it was business when that girl spent more time hitting on him than actually revealing real information. The thought leaves my expression tight as I swallow back my instinctual words. “It’s not whatever you’re currently doing.” 

It takes me longer than it should to realize he’s referring to the position Jesper and I are in. Can he relax? It’s not my fault Jesper is tipsy and touchy. 

“Kaz,” Inej’s voice is soft yet determined as she emerges from the shadows. It’s a miracle the way she’s nothing more than a shadow until she chooses not to be. “What’s our next job?” 

Prompting Kaz in order to prevent a fight--Inej, always the closest thing to a mom available. I give her a partial smile, glad that she’s wedging herself between us and the tension, preventing conflict I’m too tired to follow through on.

“A merchant’s house,” he begins slowly, “We’ll be searching a merchant’s house but I’m seeking evidence more than property.” Jesper swings his legs off the couch with no warning. My head falls. I glare at Jesper who offers me a slightly apologetic tsk before dropping his head on my shoulder. Kaz must note the exchange because something in his expression tightens. He’s extra irritable today. “I’ll disclose more tomorrow,” he sighs once, already turning away, “Most of you are beyond listening tonight anyways.” 

He’s at the door before I can tell him that I’m not drunk. The door opens and closes, but Kaz’s heaviness lingers like led. I frown, letting my head fall to the side, resting on Jesper’s.

“He’s weird today,” I mumble, unsure if I want a reply. 

“He’s always like that,” Jesper breathes, “You’re losing your novelty, y/n--he always learns to harden himself against anything bright.” 

The words leave me even more tired. “I don’t think I’m particularly bright.” 

“Kaz does,” Inej replies, “And it has nothing to do with ‘novelty’, Jesper’s just cynical when he drinks.” I don’t know if I believe her, but I like knowing that Inej thinks that. “And Kaz can’t harden himself against you, and he hates that.” 

I press my lips together, straightening my spine. “I’m not that great, and whatever Kaz does or doesn’t harden himself against doesn’t affect me at all.” My nails press into the plush seat. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this because whatever he does or doesn’t feel doesn’t matter to me.” I force myself up, doing all I can to seem perfectly calm. “All I care about is going to bed.”

Turning my head, I start to approach the door. Kaz has been strangely cold all night, and while I’m used to his moods, he hasn’t exactly directed them at me so fully since the day he caught me waiting for him to wake up after he almost died. If he wants to go back to how it used to be, then it can. Maybe I’ll care in the morning, when the growing weight of my eyelids is no longer a distraction.

“Sometimes the two of you confuse me,” Inej begins, “And sometimes I see you try to deal with emotion and I see the common ground.” 

The words leave me cold. I don’t think being compared to Kaz is an insult, not when there’s so much it could mean. He’s much more complex than he wants to be. There is goodness within him, gilding the parts of him that are more shards than anything else.  

I exhale, refusing to turn. Inej is too observant for her own good. “There is no emotion.” 

“I’m not going to waste my time arguing over that because I know it’s a waste of time.” She pauses and I consider turning around in hopes of reading something less honest from her expression. “I’m just telling you as a friend that one of you needs to be mature and talk to the other tonight before the tension gets worse and that it’s not going to be him.” 

She’s right. I exhale, “Do you think I should let him go?” Even just saying that leaves my heart aching. I know instantly that that’s not what I want, but it might be what he wants--it might be the best option. I might have the strength to let him go if I work at it. “I don’t--that’s not what I want and I’m not sure I could, but maybe that’s selfish of me.” 

“Y/n.” I turn slowly, but I purposefully avoid her gaze, keeping my head down. “I know that I’ve known Kaz longer than you, and I know that when he’s getting along with you he’s,” she trails off, uncertain, “More him, in a good way.” 

My heart swells, and with that comes feelings of panic. I never wanted to change him--to make him better or worse or anything; all I’ve ever wanted is to know him and to maybe help him with his burden. And to hear that maybe I’ve done that from someone so close to him--someone so observant and aware. That’s everything. And that terrifies me. Nothing good can last; nothing that seems to be all you could ever want actually is. I know that from life before the Crows, before I ran away from the castle I called home.

“I think he does the same for you.” I’ve never really thought about Kaz’s effect on me outside of the fact that he makes me feel warm in small moments and painfully seen in large ones. 

I smile because she’s trying and she’s given me something. “I’d say I’d tell you when I make my decision, but something tells me you’ll know.” 

She nods, expression shifting to something kind. “Goodnight, y/n.” 

Jesper stretches out on the couch, settling himself comfortably, “Night, y/n.”

“Goodnight, guys.” I disappear past the door easily, heading towards my room.

I haven’t decided whether or not I’m going to look for Kaz tonight. How much damage could be done in one night? Maybe he needs space. Maybe seeking him out now will make things worse. I exhale, opening the door to my room easily. I’ll decide before going to sleep.

When I step into the room, everything is in place. Everything is fine--but something about it feels off. The light is on. I didn’t leave the light on. Nothing else raises any red flags, so I continue into the room calmly, examining everything carefully. Nothing feels out of place as I further enter the room. I take in my bed, my dresser, and lastly my nightstand. 

My heart swells all over again, but this time it feels even heavier than before. On the center of my nightstand, in perfect condition, is a copy of Pride and Prejudice. The same book I told Kaz about, the one thing besides clothing I took from the palace. I told him it was my mother’s favorite and then he asked me to read it to him. 

I can’t picture him seeing this and thinking of me. I can’t picture him thinking of me--but no one else knew about my attachment to the book. I need to find him. I need to--to see him, to speak to him. To look him in the eye and see something I only ever see when we’re alone. Maybe he won’t have that look this time, but that’s okay. 

I can’t expect to always understand him, but that does not mean I don’t know him. 

The thought leaves me feeling a little more settled within the boundaries of my skin, but I don’t ease entirely. The good is more frightening than the bad. My fear of happiness is a benign secret I haven’t had to worry about in years. I don’t know enough about it to know how to deal with it let alone mention it to Kaz. Not that it’s his problem. 

I squeeze the book to my stomach. Swallowing pride is a difficult thing, but I’m used to it with him. It’s usually worth it with Kaz because sometimes when I try he tries in his own way. I should find him. He’s not awfully creative about where he goes when he wants to be alone because people know better than to bother him. Kaz is probably in his attic or getting air outside or…

The lights were on when I came in. I’m an idiot. I didn’t feel weird when I walked into the room because of the book. Someone’s in here. He’s in here. 

Setting the book down like I should have never touched it, I let out a sigh. “Lurking is unbecoming.” 

“It’s also unbecoming to work for me and be so easily distracted by a book.” His voice reveals nothing as he emerges from the shadows. “I could have killed you with how long it took for you to notice my presence.” He pauses, eyebrows drawing together. “The light was on.” 

Normally I’d have some kind of comment, some kind of joke that offers a more peaceful situation. “I know.” It’s a flat response. “I think on some subconscious level I knew,” I drop my gaze away from him, “I knew I was okay.” That sounds dumb. “I mean...I think I knew it was you so I knew I was okay.” Yeah, that wasn’t anymore eloquent. “That doesn’t make sense, but if you get to be confusing, I do too.”

“Confusing? There’s nothing to understand.” Curt. Simple. Dismissive. 

I frown. ‘Nothing to understand’. Right, because there’s nothing confusing about how quickly he decided to dismiss me just to bring me some obscenely sentimental gift. “If you’re mad at me, you should at least tell me why.” I press my lips together. “At least that way I’ll know if I need to apologize or kick your ass.” 

At that, he presses his lips together, corner of his mouth threatening to tilt upwards. “You would kick my ass?”

Great, even when he’s easing he has to be annoying. “I could.” There is no universe in which I could take him in a physical fight. “On a good day.” I let out a breath, doing all I can to not focus on his expression. Awkwardness settles in my chest as my eyes land on my bed. I sit down, trying not to let my shoulders slump tiredly as I stretch my legs across my bed. “You’re not having a good day.” 

“My day is fine, I’m just not naively cheerful like you,” his words turn sharp, “Or Jesper.” 

Weird addition. “Jesper’s not cheerful, he’s just drunk.” I let go of the ‘naive’ part, deciding to focus on the bigger picture. “And I’m not as naive or joyful as you think I am.” I’m not sure if I mean that as a rebuttal or just a fact. “I have bad days too.” This isn’t the kind of conversation I should have while this tired. “I could be less cheerful if you’d like.” 

He’s so silent I momentarily wonder if he’s left. “No.” It’s not much, but I take it. Straightening my back, I pull my legs beneath me, intentionally creating space. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Ah, blatant rejection. It would sting if I was less in the right. “Maybe you’ll be less weird then.” 

“I am not being weird.” At least I’m getting some kind of reaction from him. “You’re the one who--” 

“Who what?” Finally--progress. 

Kaz sighs, turning slightly. “You’re the one who decided to ignore me after we met with the contact.” I part my lips, ready to retort, but no words come. He did pick up on my slight annoyance, and he reciprocated it in a much larger way. 

He can never know that this all came from some ridiculous, territorial--partial jealousy. “I didn’t mean to ignore you,” partial lie, “I’m just kind of in a weird place today, I’m tired.” 

“Not too tired for Jesper, it seems.” 

What? Is that what this is about? “What? All I did was sit there--he’s a touchy drunk and I just happened to be next to him.” 

“You laugh with him,” he says this blankly, “You can touch him.” 

The edge of unsafe territory cuts into me at an odd angle. Is this about him? Is he really tormenting himself over something so asinine to me when it comes to him? I’d rather have him than all the physical touch in the world. The book on the nightstand feels closer to me, growing by the prospect of its significance alone. That gesture, that’s more intimate than anything Jesper and I did downstairs. 

“So?” I straighten my back slightly. “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

He presses his lips together. “That’s the problem--anyone can manage meaningless contact…” The silence is louder than the words that came before it. Oh. I guess I’m not the only one who gets just a little jealous in an unwarranted way. “What if you were hurt? What if you were hurt and we were alone and you needed someone to help you and I couldn’t?” He lets out a sigh, a sound too tired for me to associate with him. “You say you don’t care now, but you’ll grow tired of it--the only life I can offer.” 

Inej’s words about the similarities between Kaz and I echo in my mind. “Sometimes I don’t like when things are going well because I don’t know how to be truly content, fully happy.” Saying this twists my stomach. “I don’t know how to trust good things, so whenever there are good things I think about all the ways I could ruin something and then I do.” I take a breath. “I’m not saying that things are particularly good for you or that you’re happy, but I am saying that maybe you shouldn’t think three steps ahead when there’s nothing to think ahead about.” I regard his expression carefully, but nothing has changed. “I told you the only thing I want is to know you, and that’s not going to change.”

“Y/n,” his voice is low, “I am not rain--I can’t promise you anything.” 

I scratch my knee, dropping my gaze. “For once I don’t want rain.” 

Kaz sighs. “Get some sleep.” Something about the way he’s speaking is authoritative but it lacks any weight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

I frown freely, “Kaz--” 

“You look tired,” he mumbles, “You need rest.” He’s using this as an excuse to escape his feelings, but he’s already given me more than I expected. Greed ruins things, but then again, so does selflessness. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“For the job?”

Something strange crosses his features as his expression teeters on shifting. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeats, a little more certain.

The response doesn’t satiate me. “Kaz--” 

“I may not be the rain, but I’m capable of making promises as well.” There’s something final about the way he says this, but it doesn’t feel cruel. 

Maybe I’d protest if my eyelids were less weighted. “Goodnight, Kaz.” 

My head falls against the pillow. I’m not sure if he replies, too lost in the drawl of sleep before he can even close the door. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[sugar-petals]

♡ måneskin scenario: getting to know ethan 

↳ NOTE. by popular demand and because i’m entirely enthralled by the phenomenon that is ethan torchio myself, here we go givin’ the gorgeous drummer some love.

word count. 5.5k

TAGS. no warnings all fluff, fem!oc, slice of life, photographer!reader, first date-ish, shy flirting, ot4 is part of the plot, ethan being sexy in heels

Jacob had enough of that twilight bullshit and joined a glam rock band. At least that’s what you thought seeing Ethan around for the first time. Setting up the kit, carrying his whiny band members around, fixing his ruffle shirt, chugging some water: Big gig tonight, extra long setlist. Five minutes later, complaining about his brocade shoes being hard to kick the bass drum with. Even later, silently nodding along to an impassioned Damiano speech crafted to boost the morale, and posing for your camera in his silver jumpsuit. Friendly to approach all the way, but without initiating stable eye contact even once.

One thing’s for sure. As your favorite professor said back at university: Someone may be photogenic and unearthly as hell in terms of looks, and even be intimidating — but also so damn shy, you won’t see their eyes a single time. „Gotta work with it and not against. Then it gets interesting“. In essence, the takeaway from that course. Which does come in handy now. Ethan seems like the kind of guy you really have to get into for a more intimate-feeling picture.

Sure, many people in front of your camera have all kinds of introverted personalities anyway, wearing sunglasses in particular. So much about eye contact in the first place. And the aesthetic is priority, not studying character. Although you really are a fan of that, it’s a huge part of photography if anything. Alas, you’re here to „capture nothing more but the spirit of italo-rock, the attitude, the hedonism!“ (the exact words of your boss) for a music magazine after all. Really, nothing more? You paid attention to how he worded it. Fair enough. Rock spirit, that’s all, the exciting parts.

Ethan surely has it. Drumming on everything he can find during rehearsal breaks („music is everywhere“) with his sticks, even Thomas’ amplifier. He’s actually dorkier than you thought, less composed when he’s in his element. First impressions do deceive. The hair’s hard to miss, too. It’s the central motif that attracts you. You may or may not have taken over 50 shots of it just because. Ethan is a bad bitch and he better know. You climb around the venue to get any salient angle of Måneskin you can think of. Even from all the way back, last row. You don’t want to annoy them being all up in their face constantly. You’re hired to get all the good shots, they’ve been a band for seven years already, professionals in the making. Doesn’t mean you have to stand below the edge of the stage and never change position.

Even from back there, the silver reflects beautifully at the back of the stage. The fashion’s all designer and it shows, but Ethan couldn’t look bad in any of the shots even if he tried or wore the plainest black suit (hell, that would be just as beautiful in fact). Just how long is that hair anyway. All the way down to the solar plexus, must be 24 inches or more. 25, even. Many rockers would wear it that way, but Ethan seems particularly interesting with how he touches it, how he behaves with it. There we go again with the character study, you can’t help wondering.

But really. It’s any photographer’s dream when someone moves their hair around so damn naturally. Gives a great variety to how it frames and shades the face. You like to play with light all the time. And hey, why ask for eye contact when he does even better posing in other ways. The body, too, Ethan’s posture is great. Victoria and Thomas often bend to really get into their power chords, Damiano frequently hunches forward for a belt. But Ethan’s throned at his kit like some royals taught him to be a good boy. Back straighter than a pole, how the hell.

No glance in your direction still, even if you return from your last row spot to move around on stage with the camera. Which gives the band a motivation boost and chances to try out gestures up close, too, so even better. Hey, maybe it doesn’t annoy them. You can actually get used to it, this way of photographing them is all dynamic. Nearing the end of the first rehearsal, you’re all busy maneuvering between Thomas and Damiano to get a nice semi-profile from Ethan’s left side. Gotta work with it not against, you chant to yourself as a mantra, and it seems easier to stick to than you thought.

How glossy all that hair is commands all the attention of your shutter release in and of itself. That he takes good care of it and has been growing it since forever shows a dedicated guy. It’s actually quite wavy. The band arrived in the pouring rain and Ethan’s curly strands at the crown and nape of the head were definitely showing — super cute. An army of stylists took on the resulting humidity frizz. They whipped out the straightening iron and protective spray, and even now before the big performance, Ethan brushes his hair out in front of you, and sweeps it around with his fingers anyway. You take pictures of the bits you find most candid, and decide to rather perfect single shots instead of making several in a row. The more you photograph him, the more you want to discover his essence in one picture. His sheer presence almost begs for it, it’s ridiculous.

Victoria on the other hand has no problems with rapid-fire releases and comes close to your lens to pull funny faces. She’s got some of the coolest poses you’ve ever seen with her bass, and hops around the stage like a bunny to the beat. Thomas is a virtuoso and pro who keeps on doing what he does when you make him pose, and Damiano can flirt with any camera ever. He even lowers his red leather jacket off his collar bones for you to have a great shot. He’s promising and most definitely a born divo, your boss will be happy with those pictures most definitely.

Then again. Behind that supposed hedonism is so much hard work and thought. Damiano even gives you ideas for angles during the second rehearsal. „Hm, maybe stand on the amplifier?“ Eagle perspective, not a bad idea at all. After trying out said suggestions with the help of triggered stage security making sure you don’t fall off the construction („eh, Damiano always suggests the most reckless things to staff, don’t mind him“), you find yourself concentrating on what goes on at the back of the stage all over again.

Ethan is busy practicing a new solo which has you curious about whether it’s for an upcoming album. Though again — the shoes cause trouble. Ethan complains again, the music stops. That could very well be the reason why he seems so preoccupied today, or is it? The manager tells the stylist, and the stylist hurries, voilà, Ethan has a new pair of shoes brought in. Ones with a thicker sole, bit of a chunky heel, and laced up rather than being slippers, a drummer’s worst nightmare as you have learned today.

You wait until he changed. Then snap some more pictures how he continues practicing calmly, and the sound did improve since he can kick the bass drum better now. Now you position yourself across the stage all over, in the empty audience ranks. Ethan is the most radiant and confident when you just take a step back. But well, he still sweeps his hair around a whole lot and looks even more tense-looking than Damiano who’s doing vocal warmups and jumping jacks, „Come on guys, come on, we’re starting in 30 minutes!“.

You can tell he does it more often when he’s nervous. And that means he does it very often. People would probably assume it’s vanity, or the fact that the hair gets in the way. You can see that for him it’s a place of distraction, maybe safety. A gesture like an anchor. He’s used to it being long just like his eye shadow being dark and smoky all day. He knows the drums by heart, if it falls in his face no need to shake it away. And besides. The strands reach below his shoulder blades, it stays down his back if he doesn’t move around too much. He could easily tie it up as well. All those things go through your mind without you even knowing why.

To switch things up a little, you photograph Thomas fooling around with Victoria at the snack bar, stuffing fries up their noses, and already see the lighting technicians do their final check. Some of them you know briefly, you made shots at this venue before, last year for a Shakespeare theatre play. You did some freelance work in the scene, but now you’re put to the test for more involved jobs. Hard to complain though, Måneskin are amazing in front of the camera. If Damiano is not the ideal Hamlet, you don’t know anymore.

Something new happens all the time, the expressions are priceless. Ethan’s in particular, when he does his wide-eyed surprise faces learning that there’s actually healthy food at the snack bar. „Vitamins, how nice.“ — Thomas, pokerfaced, reacts with eating a mayonnaise-dripping sandwich. Ethan, unfazed. Headed straight to the fruits. You’ve never seen a tall silver glitter tower like him walking around biting a bright red apple. Well, you can take Jacob out of twilight, but not the twilight out of Jacob. Snap, another picture. Clash of words, that’s a nice theme.

The concert of this evening seems particularly energetic and leaves your camera roll with some brilliant, tweet-worthy material. Damiano covered in confetti, eyeliner running. Victoria on the shoulders of Ethan while he’s playing her bass.  Thomas, stagediving. Fans waving banners and chanting along to Seven Nation Army. Your ears are ringing when the light technicians close down the stage two hours later. Thomas really played his soul out with the solos, and your feet seem to vibrate. That’s your body thinking Victoria’s bass is still playing, but the magazine is very happy with how the pictures turned out after you send the whole batch to them as soon as you can.

Little to no retouching, zooming, or cropping necessary. Ethan is just perfect as he is, you feel like you captured him well. After swiping through the gallery on your tablet, you think Victoria has some great ant’s eye perspective shots as well. Those go right on your own blog, she’s just amazing. The magazine has an enthusiastic article typed out already. Damiano’s mid-air split on beat for the final song makes the cover story on Monday, and Måneskin’s manager comes back to you a week later. „What would you think about doing some behind the scenes stuff for us? We’re planning a music video!“

And that’s how you end up in a Sicilian restaurant with Måneskin and crew a week later, stuffed with Calzone and mind filled with Damiano’s inspiring words (and the occasional catchy freestyle rap). The MV is as good as finished. Thomas had shown you around the mansion they were shooting at, and you could convince a taciturn  Ethan to walk between the marble statues and boxwood trees in the garden. With his black cape on, a rhinestone choker, and the low-cut lacey blouse that the MV director was obsessed with as well, asking you to focus on it. Your best shot even ends up in the thumbnail of the Youtube video without you even expecting it would.

All the garden pictures turned out mindblowing. If not iconic, the best project you had so far. Gets to show you the best things are often improvised. Ethan, stoic as always, sat at the base of armor-clad Emperor Augustus twisting into the blue sky in a large gesture. The marble was a perfect contrast. Ethan ate a ripe pear from a tree, even that was aesthetically pleasing, then leaned against a hunting Apollo, and you also framed him from the back next to Aphrodite and Cesar. He put on his sunglasses underneath Achilles, and knelt at the feet of a Pietà replica. Marvelous panorama shots, with him the shining center. Well, we know since Queen that the drummer is the unrealistically pretty one.

The whole picture series is blowing up on your blog for the whole afternoon. „Count Dracula on a stroll in Versailles — eugh, begone sunlight!“ is what a comment neatly sums it up as. People seem to especially like the shot where Ethan playfully put his cape over Pallas Athena’s spear with a blurry Thomas having a laughing fit in the background. Well, even Count Drac gets photobombed sometimes. Your phone buzzes with notifications every other minute, you do notice it against your thigh. But the insalata of the restaurant is good and the night is young. Victoria and the manager tell old stories of Thomas snapping a guitar string while he was trying to serenade a highschool crush. Ethan scolds them for making fun of it.

Damiano gets drunk and dances on the table, the MV director discusses new ideas, some walk-in fans take pictures. The temperature is still unbearable. You order a dessert to share with Victoria and Ethan. A large tiramisu that the waiter cuts in three pieces, and it’s truly delectable. The chocolate, so crunchy, melty. The cream, fluffy and cool, making for a funny white beard that makes Ethan look like an arctic scientist returning from an expedition.

Of course, you take pictures, all the food is documented. As are late night restaurant shots with Damiano’s heels peaking into the frame when you photograph the band’s friendship bracelets, hand-made by Victoria on a tour bus last year. Damiano’s back down on the table soon, singing, while Ethan creates a beat with two forks. Thomas also agrees to take your camera for a while so you’d be in the frame for a change, too.

You pose for a group picture, or rather a group hug, and being in the middle …Ethan’s arm wraps around your shoulder loosely, hair dangling into his face, but also brushing yours. He focuses on the camera, facing away from you. The schooled eye could catch you breaking a sweat in the resulting photo. Ironically, the tiramisu doesn’t cool you down the way you thought. Thomas is too busy trying to figure out your camera dials and yelling „hey eyebrow king, smile!“ at Ethan.

A round of even more gelato goes down in spoons and spoons. The band members eat like they ran a marathon. Ethan clinches a third round because he can, unhealthy be damned, he needs some sugar and refreshment. And it’s true the MV shooting was strenuous in the heat, and had lots of intense performing parts. Even an invisible rope suspension were Thomas would descend from a ceiling during the chorus with little cherub wings attached to his back because why not. If the manager agreed to recreate this on tour some day, the pictures would be amazing.

You can’t help but think what kind of special effect would suit Ethan the most, and you come to the conclusion that a bridge lift would be the coolest thing ever. A rising part of the stage letting him emerge like an elevator from the underground.  Maybe using smoke machines, too. The idea twirls around in your mind so intensely, Damiano asks if you’re wasted. You’re always getting carried away with all kinds of fantasies like that for over a week now. A dreamy photographer? Not unusual, but it’s seriously distracting you from the present moment.

The crew slowly heads home, and the band decides (translation: Victoria’s mood is) to head to the movies. Just when the waiter arrives with the bill, Damiano spills panna cotta all over Ethan by accident. So bad he’s all sticky from the shoulders down, making Ethan opt for the hotel instead. Besides, he’s been drumming his soul out, sleep is so needed now. Since the group is already gone and there’s still a forgotten cymbal left to carry back to the equipment bus by the hotel, you help Ethan maneuver it around. The heat is making either of you sweat, even with the full dark of the night coming up.

The gaffer lady you’re sharing a hotel room with is already fast asleep. Damn it. You want to cut a video and make screenshots with the laptop being decently bright. And with some volume if possible, you don’t find headphones in the darkness of the room. Ethan clears the desk in his own room for you after removing his make-up. He looks so young and beautiful and tired.

You type and drag and double click yourself through the video and do some last blog updates to deal with all the notifications. Ethan lends you some headphones, but you only keep them on one ear. The humming is too nice to ignore. Nor do you know what to even expect. The bathroom door is open, Ethan is topless washing the lace blouse by hand. Only wearing bellbottom pants and his lace choker — nothing else. He’s fully immersed in his task. He even adds some other shirts and silk scarves into the soap water along the way while he’s at it.

You’ve never seen someone do their own laundry so systematically. Ethan looks like Prince Caspian at the sink, wielding the almond soap bar like his weapon of choice against the enemies of Narnia (the devious panna cotta that’s still sticking to everything). He might be all mysterious, but he’s well able to curse all kinds of things. You tease Ethan for dropping his gentlemanly behavior for a stain of dessert. Ethan insists you sound like Thomas trying to test him with his slick comebacks, which makes you laugh. The blog has calmed down a little and your eyes hurt from editing, so you call it a day and send one last e-mail.

Ethan is drowning in bubbles at this point. The whole room smells like fabric softener. He thanks you for helping him carry around the equipment earlier. In return, you say grazie for him being your perfect muse in the garden today. Philosopher he is, Ethan remarks how Måneskin is usually the one searching for muses, now he ended up one himself — „Maybe not a bad thing, eh. Become the thing you want or something.“ That’s way too deep for a summer night in Sicily, and both of you need a huge portion of sleep. Tomorrow, lots of schedule. You do find yourself wanting to help lick that dessert off his chest. No way you’d tell him.

Ethan waddles off to shower after a crooked, reserved smile for a good night departure. When you close the door to your room and start brushing your teeth, the other members’ voices emerge in the hotel corridor — they’ve returned from the movies. Damiano is even more wasted than before and audibly sings. „You’ve looked at the photographer lady in a certain way earlier, huh. I saw, I saw!“ Victoria does a loud ‚shh‘ noise, and the stoic reply is a simple „Sleep, Damiano, you’ve had too much.“ Thomas giggles, and four doors click shut. Damiano’s singing is now muffled for two minutes until it’s silent. How the fuck can you even sleep after hearing that.

You assumed that Ethan would treat you differently the next morning, in whatever shape or form. But he doesn’t. The greeting is short as it would always be, and he informs you that he did manage to wash out the sugary clay from his clothes as he puts it. Damiano says nothing, adjusts his rings. Thomas randomly pulls zippers at his packed-up equipment. Victoria headed to the car already. Downtown to a studio it goes. The group gets styled to perfection, twenty minutes later they make a reaction video to the newly released MV teaser. Ethan talks about enjoying the sculptures in the garden.

Three hours down the line, you shoot some promotional pictures of them at a pool. Thomas has the time of his life perfecting his diving board skills, and Damiano creates the musical background, singing and prancing. The aerials would make literal perfect editorial-in-VOGUE material. In the meantime, Victoria dozes in the sun. Ethan dives. Sometimes just sitting at the bottom of the pool, othertimes swimming back and forth. The art director suggests you to go into the water, too. He’s right, the perspective works out well this way.

You’re basically standing in there with your flowy pantalon pants and camisole, using a waterproof camera. Your bikini is back at the hotel. It doesn’t matter, everything will dry quickly, the others went in the pool with clothes as well. And you’re all too wrapped up in your passion in the first place. You marvel at how fun the whole scenery looks through your lens. Their outfits are cropped and luminous, today’s color is bright red. You order the lighting assistant back and forth, get some more great Thomas frames where he tosses around a volleyball that the manager brought along. Less rock than usual, but it works. Måneskin at a pool in Sicily.

Damiano splashes water around like crazy. Victoria joins the fun as well, splashing right back. It’s infernal. Well, those are going to be dynamic pictures, you think, and the cameraman never dies, so. Ethan resurfaces every other minute, wiping the chlorine from his eyes. He slicks his hair back with both hands, looking down his body learning how his shirt has become completely transparent. He covers his chest with his hair, quickly, then submerges again. It’s strange. Being topless is usually no big deal in Måneskin.

Almost 12 o’clock. Thomas and Damiano wander off to work on some lyrics, probably the title that the drum solo is part of. All top secret. Victoria returns to her sun lounger, checking her phone. The crew heads for lunch, but you stay in the water, gladly you put sunscreen on earlier. You ask Ethan to try some seated or floating poses at the bottom of the pool that you saw him practice earlier. „No worries, keep your eyes closed.“

What unfolds before you is the most beautiful thing. Ethan’s shirt fans out like a red jellyfish underwater, playing around his body. His figure is just enviable. He gets the hang of it and knows quite how to move. Or rather, to remain stable when the pose is perfect. Hands above his head, horizontal, or seated, only one foot  lightly sweeping over the pool floor, or on one knee, as if he proposed.

Raising his arms helps him sink down and settle, as if he immersed himself in deep meditation. Although the purpose of meditating is to be present, isn’t it. And that’s what he feels like. Ethan would normally switch on autopilot for most of his public interactions, now he’s alive and fully in the concentrated movements of the photoshoot. So much about improvising all over again. The hair creates the most incredible shapes like a black, wide brushstroke, clearly outlined. Thank god you have the waterproof camera. These are moments you’ll never forget.

Your blog notifications keep on bleeping throughout the afternoon. The promotional pictures are a hit. Måneskin’s manager is basically waving five new contracts in front of your face at dinner, but you’re kind of spaced out again. The cozy, rose-ranked atmosphere of the street café you went to is inspiring, and the members dressed up in the most fancy suitwear. Men in Black? Måneskin in Black. It’s almost as if fate read your mind. Ethan is looking at you very intently from across the table when the minestrone is served.

Pasta shells, parsley, vegetables and basil leaves. The scent surrounds the entire table. Damiano, in serious mode tonight, is too busy finding new rhymes and an alternative chorus with Thomas who wildly brainstorms. Victoria drinks, loudly chats with the gaffer lady that you share a room with, and they use a leaf of a palm tree pot plant to tickle Damiano. Thomas plays the acoustic guitar. Ethan and you end up smiling briefly at another. „Bon apetit,“ you say. It’s almost 34° celsius. That’s going to be an entire pile of cheesecake gelato tonight.

Five signed contracts later and halfway through a hefty caprese cake, the title song is finished. An ode to Marlena, fierce like the Mediterranean sea. The piece certainly sounds exactly like this place. Strangers listen to Damiano performing bits and pieces, but you decide to disperse when too many cellphones come out. Damiano wants to go to a bar, Thomas and Victoria carry home their guitars, or to the hotel to be exact, and bags of newly shopped vintage clothes. You ask Ethan if there are any cinemas around the area. „We missed out last time, remember.“

The Palazzo Theater is a small and hidden insider tip far from the main street with its busy beach tourists. Under bulbous metal balconies and peach-colored facades, a small entrance with lanterns on each side guides you inward. Ethan almost hits his head, it’s so low. He’s wearing glossy red bottoms under his suit pants, you’re out and about with a 6’2 giant after all — a statue by himself. A small man with a pipe sells you cheap tickets for a Mads Mikkelsen movie and lemonade, Ethan picks up an XXXL caramel popcorn bucket. You think he’s flexing, but you get a sudden heureka by looking at it twice.

Unlike the S, M, and L bags, it’s thick cardboard and drum-shaped. Oh my god, obviously. Which fine percussionist could ever resist such temptation striped in red and white, the sound deep and dull? It makes you smile how Ethan pursues his instrument even when he seemingly doesn’t, it really has to be a hobby at heart. That’s how a job becomes a profession, and a profession a vocation, your uni professor’s other favorite words all over again. The latter’s words have gotten you far so you again trust the insight that came to you through that quote.

Seeing Ethan standing there, you can almost see the childlike joy at imagining it being empty and ready to get turned around. A tuxedo Italian with Louboutin heels and a ginormous popcorn drum, half past eleven somewhere in Palermo: Ingenious combination, you snap a picture. Ethan makes a cute face, posing like a pinup of the 50s. Who knows how many vintage store posters he’s seen during tours, he must have picked it up there. And— Is he blushing? Must be the dim lights in here.

Off you go to the auditorium. Ethan, who balance the popcorn with all care in the world like it’s his baby, walks the aisle slower than you. The slim steps don’t have any floor lighting. Not very heel-friendly, but since it’s not a huge budget theater and few people dare spike heels on those cobblestones outside anyway, the stairs shall be forgiven. You take out your phone and offer your arm. For every gentleman it takes a gentlewoman, duh. Like rock’n’roll and the camera staff, chivalry (or shevalry as Damiano calls it when Vic holds the door open) never dies. He mumbles a thanks, you climb upward to the fourth-last row, Ethan holds on tight.

No ankles twisted and not one popcorn spilled, you get seated on red velvet. The chairs are dated, but nevertheless ultra comfortable. Nobody else is here. The adverts roll, Ethan cracks open the lemonade bottle caps with his chunky golden lighter because he can. You toast to Mads Mikkelsen’s bone structure and good minestrone, Måneskin’s finished title track, the promo pics, and the discovery of Ethan’s favorite new drum. A whopping five things to toast about? The night’s going to be great.

Damiano catwalking across the screen, wearing a Versace skirt in the middle of otherwise-boring commercials does shake you up. He was picked as a testimonial recently. Though, your pulse is high enough. Ethan’s hair is brushing against your shoulders, not to mention his goddamn massive arms. He can’t get out a single word either for the entirety of the ads, avoiding eye contact all over again. Just how much suspense can starting to eat the first popcorn have. Well, you pick two  from the very top and start munching.

Mads does a great job opening the movie as one would expect, but you just can’t concentrate. Instead, you stress-eat popcorn. Which makes Ethan do the same thing, at least he’s somewhat fixated on the screen. After the first ten minutes, he shakes his head. „That makes no sense at all,“ he clears his throat. „Yeah, yeah it  clearly doesn’t,“ you agree, basically on Torchio-autopilot yourself for the lack of a better reply. You were too busy figuring out the components of his aftershave rather than the thin plot. Shifting in your seat, chugging lemonade…

The air conditioning is scarce, but at least the screen is quite large and proper. You try to focus on the cinematography and do small talk about it. If there’s something you can comment on without having followed the string of action, it’s at least this.  You might be nervous, but you’re still a photographer. „Um, isn’t this chainmail nice in the closeup?“ — „Hm, I guess it works. We should ask Damiano to request something like this from Versace.“ — „Medieval Måneskin Rockers?“ — „Something like that.“ — „Hilarious.“

By the twenty-minute mark, the popcorn drum is almost empty. Gladly, that stuff just shrinks to bits in the stomach. The lemonade just has to galvanize it. You might be able to distract yourself with the camera shots and the last caramel chunks, but that doesn’t change Ethan’s long legs and Acqua di Parma perfume next to you. Yep, you finally figured out what it was, it wasn’t the aftershave. And well. Ethan smells like hotel soap from Milano to Napoli and back.

That scent basically dominates all the others besides a hint of cigar and basil and citrus-y deodorant mixed with runny sweat. God fuck, you can barely stand it. And the almond scent. You take a chance to at least jokingly point it out to him. The random movie flashback sequence is boring — and just as nonsensical as before, no offense to Mads though, he’s just walking around in chain mail — enough to deviate from whatever choppy convo you had going on before.

„I actually washed it twice,“ Ethan pulls off the silky scarf that functions as his current tie, and you recognize it. „The strawberry sauce was hard, but the cranberries… God no, I’ll never go near pana cotta again. Nothing against cream desserts.“ You take the scarf, smell it. Did he literally just hand it to you? Figures, he’s sweating bullets, too. And oh shit, he hasn’t talked that much all evening.

You slowly shift from bodies turned to the screen to facing each other. So up close, so up front, only God can help you know. His eyes are dark and reflective of the film’s flickering lights and changing scenes. You wish you could photograph them on sight. It would be as glimmering as your view from the hotel room, overwatching the unobstructed stars of the Mediterranean bay down the boulevard.

But it’s like you’re stuck in your position this way, feverishly thinking about a reply. What to pick up on, what to pick up on. You think about today, the evening where you edited things in his room. „Uh well, drop your laundry in the pool next time,“ you laugh, more than tentative, with your fingers randomly curling around the scarf. „The chlorine stuff will do the job for you. It’s so aggressive, it bleached by pants one shade lighter.“

Saved. Smooth transaction. Phew. „Oh, the pool was horrible. Not the photos, I mean… I don’t know how you can poison water that way.“ — „I know right? It’s still in my nose. But yeah, was a good idea with the underwater thing. The photos turned out really well.“ — „I really haven’t done something like that before but I guess it turned out hm, nice?“ — „Come on! Nice is understated. Are you fishing for compliments?“ — „No no, by all means!“ — „The one kneeling. It’s my favorite. I don’t even know what to do with all these pictures.“

„I don’t know. Maybe keep them?“ — „Keep… for what?“ — „It’s a separate series, right. The art director didn’t request it. Maybe they can be used for something later on during promotions.“ — „Yeah. We’re always a little extracurricular,“ you laugh again, tense in your voice, and empty your lemonade completely. „This, too,“ Ethan points at the theatre in general. „You’re good to talk to. The better version of alone time.“ — „Thank you. You’re great to go out with. I… really like it.“ Beautiful nature scenes show on screen, but they’re nothing but a blur. You take Ethan’s hands in the dark and smile. „Maybe we should do it more often.“

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[crystal-moon-101]

Since I saw people talking about Ben's little big chill kids, I thought I'd finally do some headshots of my ones, who are also a part of my Ben 10 Next Gen. For me, I've always imagined that for young necrofriggians, they all start out looking the same (Beyond some size difference), but as they grow older, they'll start to develop their own patterns, small body traits and shades of colour, as showcased here. I'll share the little info on each sibling, and the basics of who they are as a person. When Ben first found them again, saving them from poachers and going full mum mode, they had been developing these different psychical traits, but not enough to identify each properly on their own, so while giving them names, Gwen used bandana pieces to colour code them, and each kid still wears theirs to this day, slightly modified. So here they are now, as full grown young adults. You can follow from left to right each row, or just the colours next to their names. -North (Black)- The largest and physically strongest of the kids, North acts as the leading member when Ben isn't around, doing their best to watch out for their siblings and be a middle ground to them. It's been this way since they were born, looking out for them and doing whatever they can to protect the others. This has resulted in North collecting quite a few scars and wing tears, though they wear them with pride, wanting to display how strong they are to others. They often looks up to Ben when it comes to being a hero, in how their mumdad protects others and the galaxy, and wants to be a fighter like him one day, often asking to train with their mumdad whenever he's around. Ben has suggested Plumber training for North, but they're still thinking about that. -Tundra (Red)- Tundra is a very curious one, and is known to wander off when things catch their interest. They prefer using experience to learn from, thus making them quick on their feet when something happens, and good at thinking logical. When the siblings are struggling with something, or come across some kind of problem, it's often Tundra who provides the quickest answers that should go well for them. That being said, due to their wandering, they gave gotten into trouble a few times and need to be saved by their siblings or Ben, as despite how smart they are, they can be a bit of a ditz when something catches their interest. -Grey (Silver)- Having a connection to the earth bellow, Grey often spends their time searching caves, and any hidden areas they can find. They especially love to research and find minerals of any kind, ranging from metals to gems, sometimes even studying their metal lunch for the day before eating it. Because of this, they can be carelessly dirty, and aren't the cleanest of people, but does pick up after themself when reminded. Grey is also pretty close with their sibling Storm, and surprising Gwen and Ben when first hearing the two call each other "Dweeb" and "Doofas", when first meeting them again. -Storm (Brown)- As someone who likes to spend a lot of time flying and high in the clouds, Storm is fascinated by the weather and how it behaves, and feeling the cold fresh air and challenging themself with flight training. This has provided them to have the most agility in the air, and knows the best ways to build up speeds, while also not draining themself. Whenever they aren't flying around, they're doing research on the weather, very keen to be a meteorologist one day. Whenever Ben visits, they will often ask him about the weather on other planets, and any adventures he's had in the sky. Storm is also pretty close with their sibling Grey, and surprising Gwen and Ben when first hearing the two call each other "Dweeb" and "Doofas", when first meeting them again. -Crystal (Blue)- Graceful on their feet, Crystal is a charming and gentle person, with a keenness for the art of dancing, especially when hovering in the air. This was something sparked in them when seeing how the patches in their wings, which are see through, glittered and reflected light through them, making Crystal often move around to see what they could get them to do, and the introduction of dancing was something they latched onto as a result. They are one of the hardest of the siblings to get angry, upset or rile up, and often goes with the flow and speaks in a slow and soft voice. Because of their kind nature and beautiful display of their wings, Crystal has attracted many others who are interested in them, many falling for them after meeting Crystal for a mere minute, though they tend to pretend not to notice, and turn down those who ask. -Orion (Orange)- Having an eye for art, Orion is a skilled painter and drawer, while also dabbling into other art forms to create things, their room filled with their works of art, and often creating gifts for others. From when they were little, Orion has always admired their auntie Gwen, and are always keen and eager to hang out with her when she visits, showing every new drawing and painting they have made while she was away. In fact their fondness for auntie Gwen is why they picked the orange bandana, as it reminded them of her hair. -Neva (Green)- Fashion focused and head strong, Neva is a keen one, who knows exactly what they like and isn't afraid to say it. They love designing things to wear, especially since fashion isn't that big on Kylmyys, and Ben brings them fabrics and items they request from earth whenever he comes by on a visit. Though, despite Neva's expensive tastes, they are most certainly aren't a snob, and more often than not create outfits and accessories for others that Neva knows they'd like, and wants to bring out the best beauty in them. Though admittedly, they can get a bit carried away if someone asks for fashion advice, or even brings up the idea of something related to it. Neva also a bit of a business mind too, having gotten some clients recently on their homeworld after seeing what Neva could make. -Raine (Aqua)- A very sweet young one, Raine has a keen eye for collecting things, particularly shiny or unknown stuff. From gemstones to simple earth utensil, if something interests them, Raine is known to take it with them, sometimes snatching without thinking. They don't mean any harm, and just sometimes think before acting, and will give something back if they've realized what they've done, but if it's clear they can keep it, then they aren't one to share, though do like to show off what they have with joy. They are also very well organized, knowing where everything they own is, and even when their siblings misplace something, having a photography memory and mental list of things. They may own a lot of stuff, but that doesn't mean they want to live in a pigsty. -Vale (Yellow)- Being one of the quiet ones, Vale likes to keep a lot to themself, and don't speak very often, only when they need to. They spend a lot of time outside, observing nature as it passes by them, using a little diary to note down what they see, hear, feel, smell and even taste. They like to appreciate silence and the world around them, and the beauty of nature, and collect little things to store away in their diary as memory. Whenever they visit earth, they love to visit the forests in the spring and summer, seeing the range of colours blooming from flowers, and has many flower prints because of this. -Lux (Beige)- Quite the basic of people, Lux likes to live life in a simple way, and tends to try and stare clear of any chaos, which is quite hard when you have 13 wild siblings. Because of them, they can come across as annoyed and frustrated at times, and can be blunt and honest, but they do love their siblings, and is often the one that says what's needed to be said. Lux also have massive wings compared to their body, a ratio none of the others have, and use to trip over their feet a lot growing up. Now, their massive wings are a great way to hide away when they're not in the mood to talk to read a book, or to hug a family member when seeing them down. -Micha (Pink)- Bubbly and sneaky, Micha has been dubbed the "Pink Ninja" for a reason, someone almost always able to hide away and sneak up on others. They love to jump scare people, and has found more and more crafty ways to get around without being noticed, even without their ability to go invisible. They love to pull jokes and get a laugh out of people, and Micha is known to have a snort with their own laughter. It's always their mission to catch Ben off guard when he visits, as each time it gets trickier due to him knowing it's coming, and his training and skills build up over the years, but Micha always finds a way in the end. -Zodiac (Gold)- Patient and often neutral toned, Zodiac is often seen to be pretty wise. From a young age, they've always loved stories from history, especially those about myths and legends they hear from around the galaxy, and spend a lot of their time reading and researching anything they hear about, always keen to hear a new story they may have never heard about before. It always fascinates them how much Ben has seen and done, and the stories he tells, Zodiac is practically fond of those about Alien X and Celestialsapians, and wants to meet one one day. -Alaska (White)- High on energy 99% of the time, Alaska is always zooming around and never has time to stop. They rarely sit still for long, and it takes a lot to drain them of their endless energy, always moving in a blink of an eye. Because of this, Alaska is the fastest of the crew, which has come in handy often. But they can be easily bored, and a little frustrating to deal with when they don't pay attention, but they do like to spend that energy by jumping around each sibling to spend the day with, and wants to engage in all of their activities to support them. -Arlo (Purple- The smallest of them, Arlo was born the runt of the group, but thanks to their siblings, especially North, they managed to survive childhood when most other necrofriggian runts would have died. This makes Arlo the baby of the group, and the one they all want to protect, even if it can be a little baring at much, wanting to prove they can be strong on their own. And Arlo somewhat got their wish, when reaching a certain age and Ben learning that one of his children had the spark, thus meaning Arlo is an Anodite, and is able to use magic, though they're far from being perfect at it, and their small body sometimes struggles to keep up. But each day Arlo practices, wanting to feel more than just the tiny one, but they are generally kind and great with emotions, being very supportive and just trying their hardest.