#6 people left and its because i was too focused on commissions

[burnedbyshoto]

go the distance

(will you) go the distance

— You’re perfectly content in life except for the fact that you are not dating Deku. When his best friend won’t help you out, you turn to the dark side to get what you want.

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pairing: pro hero!midoriya izuku x bad villain!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, manga spoilers, pro hero!au, villain!reader, ofa usage for sex lol, size difference, manhandling, public sex, slight degradation and praise, deku eats his cum outta ya pussy, big dick deku, corruption but make it opposite, deku is a pervert change my mind

word count: 12,715

a/n: well, yall already knew I wanted to make this fic a reality, so here it is for bnharems villain collab!! check out all the already amazing stories if you haven’t already. thank you to kara, sky, and jo for reading this for me because lmao im ass rn. I’m gonna go to bed because I partied a bit too hard last night.

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your quirk: distortion – can make afflicted persons vision shift 6 cm to the left or right at the cost of having their own vision shift the same way

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“Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcasted rumors of a villain running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures, and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. 

“Road maintenance endeavors to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before. 

“Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city? 

“Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved, but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary. One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.”

The female reporter closes her eyes, despite still being on the air, her eyebrows furrowed as she exasperatedly sighs.

“Was that good enough, Mirage?”

You look at her with a pout, your eyes then clenching shut as your lips move with unsaid words as you motion for the cameras to stop rolling. You tilt your head right and left, muttering a bit.

“Did that seem better to you this time? I don’t know, I don’t think it was scary enough...”

You open your eyes to see the exasperated reporter looking at you as if she personally sought to end you right where you were sitting.

“You are the worst villain I’ve ever encountered,” she deadpans, and you laugh in agreement.

.

.

.

You weren’t really a villain.

If you must put a label on what you were, you would say that you were the best PR head any hero agency could ask for. You were, after all, the top student graduate from UA’s Business Course and had been ushered into a condensed agency the moment you were finished taking your graduation pictures. 

And well, if you are actually curious about the… villainy, you would like to uphold and continue to stress that you weren’t a villain! You were just a public nuisance – like those stupid YouTubers – with the ability to garner Pro Heroes’ attention! People had no reason to scoff at what you did on the daily.

You took both of these jobs very seriously!

It was like being straight out of a comic for you!

A simple – hopefully should the heroes you’re in charge of not be stupid – nine to five job by day, and a badass, crime-committing, sexy as shit villain by night! How could anyone ever hate you for your lifestyle! How could anyone ever hate you?!

But we are all noisy people, and everyone wondered just why you became a villain because you had a beautifully stable job with an impressive salary! Why would such an amazing woman such as yourself dabble in the evilness of humanity? 

Well, you did have an answer for the public.

“Why do you engage in evil, villainous schemes?” the reporter deadpans, absolutely and utterly not being paid enough to humor you in this forced interview.

The public loved drama, pizazz, a little showmanship even from what they deemed humanities worst! So, you told the world why you chose to be evil instead of good:

“Because I want to be!” you grin, flashing a pose as you make your away from the interviewer you had very much illegally forced to interview you. “And because a hero killed my cat!’

Of course, that was a lie! Why would you ever hand over the real reason as to why you decided to become a villain! You’d be laughed right out of Japan, possibly be murdered by a horde of fangirls!

For you see, there was one reason and one reason alone as to why you decided to take your place within the villainy hall of fame. Why you chose to do more in your day outside of your already demanding job.

And that one reason was: Pro Hero Deku, civilian name Midoriya Izuku.

Now, trying not to come off as some creepy, weirdo, stalker fangirl, you could fully admit that you were in love with the stupidly large hunk of a man that debuted as an official pro a year before you graduated from high school. 

You remember how the world was finally recovering from the year-long nightmare that had ensued. To be honest, you were stupidly surprised you had even managed to graduate, given that most of schooling had become somewhat of a joke.

FIVE YEARS AGO, MARCH, 2XXX:

It had been in the evening, the clear blue sky becoming ruby red and blood orange as you made your way out of campus. The air somehow smelled of sweet hay and gasoline, but you didn’t mind. There was hardly anyone out at this time, most students had made their way home already, and the only sounds were the moving cars of businessmen just trying to get back home.

There really wasn’t any reason to suspect anything to go wrong, this was a simple daily walk back home after school that wasn’t like any other. But then there had been a loud pop, an ever louder screech, and finally, you managed to whip your head in time to see a car tumbling through the air straight at you. 

There was hardly any time to think, even less to react, and the only thing you knew was that you were not going to survive.

You braced yourself, eyes clenching and body curling, your mind screaming because this was not going to be the way things ended. But before it could happen, before the car could come down upon you and squish you like a bug under a shoe, something picked you up and you were weightless.

Waiting for an impact that never came, the tears that were endlessly streaming down your face were suddenly stopped by rough, warm fingers smoothly wiping them away.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re safe now!” a voice says softly to you, endearingly warm and comforting. “I’m here, don’t worry.”

“Am I… did I die?” you whisper, unsure if you even want the answer, your eyes remaining closed because you refused to open them up to some angel that could confirm your death. “God, what an embarrassing way to die!”

“Oh – um, no! You’re not dead! I promise!” the voice laughs brightly, just softly enough that you believe him and not be entirely horrified by the amused reaction. Your eyes crack open slowly, just barely peering back into the world, still half praying you weren’t dead. But all you saw was green. 

Green eyes, green hair, green clothes.

You blink, once, twice, realizing only then you were staring into the eyes of a boy about your age.

He had curly hair, freckles littering his face, and eyes that easily pierced through your very soul.

Without meaning to, your breath stopped, frozen in your lungs as you were captivated by a handsome man with a curving, beautiful smile. 

“See, I told you it was okay!” he teased you, head cocking to the side as he grinned largely.

The action itself seemed to strangle the strangest noise out of your mouth as you realized suddenly and immediately that your face was burning and all you could think was:

A cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, a cute hero rescued me, acuteherorescuedme!

“Sorry about that scare! I would’ve caught that car sooner, but I wasn’t paying attention to who was around!” the green boy apologized, bowing deeply in front of you in his apology. “There’s a commotion just up ahead, so I recommend you take the next road over.”

You nod numbly, unable to conjure even the slightest hint of your voice again as he stood up to his full length. He was average in height it seemed, taller than you, but still not towering. The hero looked behind his shoulder, those big green eyes focusing onto the distance, onto something you couldn’t even begin to imagine – or see, really. He blinked and turned back to you, smile gone but the gentle aura to him remained, but now his face, his mouth, was underlined with a sense of urgency and engagement to whatever sent a vehicle tumbling your way.

“Which train do you take home?” he asked, eyebrows relaxing from his stern position, as his smile picked up again. “I’ll take you closer to your station!”

“B train,” you manage to wheeze out – unable to be the reason why he was held up but also confused as to just what he could do to get you closer to the station that was at least a mile away from here.

“Perfect! I know where that is!” he laughs for just a moment, and before you could even ask if this was going to be some escorted thing – because you definitely did not need it – his arms were fastly secured around you, and suddenly you were weightless.

A cold wind rushed against your face, nipping at your nose, cheeks, and ears, sending your hair flying around – into your mouth! Oh, you were screaming! You were soaring through the skyline, being held by some hero you couldn’t name, and you were screeching at the top of your lungs.

Making the mistake of looking down, your arms were suddenly around his shoulders, your voice growing even sharper and louder as you squeezed against his body and refused to let go. His hands, despite the gloves, were warm on your back, and his soft chuckle warming you from nose to toes as he secured his grip on you.

“I got you,” he spoke, “I won’t let you go, I promise.”

Those words don’t exactly ease you, but there’s a comfort to the genuinity to his words. You nod nonetheless, your face buried deep into his neck. The cold wind continues to whip around you, the only thing sounding in your ears is the cruel whipping wind and quiet city below.

“I’m landing now,” he informed you, body shifting in the wind, and reflexively, you clung even tighter to him, expecting the similar stomach dropping motion of a roller coaster going straight down. “You’re – ack – c-choking me!”

The knowledge of that, hearing the strain and entirely unhidden sound of him choking against the current chokehold you had on him, you released him entirely with a shriek of your own. Was it a smart move? No, definitely not because you were how many hundreds – if not thousands – of feet in the air with a quirk that could not, and would not save you.

“It’s okay! I’m fine!” he quickly said, his arms shifting around your waist as you felt your body weight drop just the smallest bit. To which your focus landed to the concrete floor so far down, and you began screaming again. He panicked just a bit too. “Y-You’re okay too! We’re landing! We’re landing!”

Soon, but not soon enough, the concrete floor came underneath your feet, and you practically felt your knees buckle underneath you. The train station behind you was practically invisible, and you felt the floor come in contact with your knees, and you collapsed onto your hands and knees. You could feel the tears streaming down your face as you wheezed and panted, unable to move from your position. 

“Hey, look, we made it!” he laughed gently, probably being said in hopes that you would feel better. (It did make you feel slightly better, his laugh was light and pretty to listen to.) You could feel him approaching you, iron covered red shoes appearing before your vision. Looking up, you saw that the young hero was crouching, his face holding a wobbly smile that was earnest, worried, and full of unspoken hope. “I do need to get back, but before I do, are you good enough to be left alone?”

You blinked your soaked eyelashes at him, still largely unable to say anything at the cute hero in front of you who had a few scratches on his cheek, right below his freckles.

“Y-Yeah, um,” you say, your tongue cotten and lead in your dry mouth. “I-I’ll be fine, I think.”

The green eyed hero nods, offering you a hand and assisting you to your trembling legs, “That’s good to hear!” he chirped, his wobbly smile becoming a grand, bright grin. “You were really brave! I was impressed!”

Now, you were an idiot at times, but even you could spot a stupid lie. Still, hearing it said with such honesty, as if this hero who was no taller than five foot eight truly believed it, made something bubble in your chest, and soon you found yourself laughing.

“No need to lie to me, h-hero,” you manage to speak between stammering breaths, “thank you for saving me, though. I appreciate it.”

You grin crookedly at him, and to your utter delight, he reciprocates it.

“It’s the least I can do. I’d offer to take you home but… I’m not quite finished yet,” he says, and you can only nod, the conversation obviously reaching its last strides. You watch as he floats up, his eyes looking at you, but somehow focused how many miles away from where he had brought you from. “Stay safe?”

“I’ll try my best,” you agree to his question, hands clasping before your lap. “Finish the job quick, hero?”

He grins, “I’ll try my best.”

You feel a breathless sort of laugh escape you as you watch him beginning to shoot back up, but a sort of horror shoots through you as you rush forward, running right after him, hands cupping around your mouth as you scream:

“What’s your name?!”

The blur of green in the air freezes, and you stop running as you see green eyes and freckles focusing back onto you.

“Deku! My hero name is Deku!”

You stop at the curb of the street, eyes focused on the sky as the green eyed hero named Deku grins one last time before shooting off at a speed probably much faster than when he held onto you. The wind blows around you, and you can only feel the heat sitting on your cheeks and the way you’re smiling as you stare after his figure that's long, long gone.

“Deku...” you whisper to yourself, ignorant to the world of commuters beginning to appear at the station. “Thank you.”

And thus came the very apparent and obvious day in which you fell head over heels for Pro Hero Deku.

Now some people called you a stupid fangirl, obsessive stalker, and sometimes, yeah, you were obsessive and weird about your slight infatuation with a stranger. It was strange, you knew that! But you also knew that you had practically no chances of ever being able to woe the man behind the image of Deku because Midoriya Izuku practically existed as Deku 24/7.

After you graduated from high school, you were put into the same agency that was currently holding Deku. Without tooting your own rom-com obsessed horn too much, you fully expected to walk in and be handed Deku’s file as his PR manager and be able to thank him for not only saving you all that time ago, but also eventually sweep him off his feet. 

But your reputation preceded you well, probably too well, because the first day you entered the office and was handed your list of three clients to work with, neither one was for Deku. Being a PR manager for heroes was hard, a job that practically held no set hours because, unlike your typical celebrities, heroes had no type of privacy or protection. They were constantly under the spotlight, being viewed by adoring fans and scornful critics. Your job served as the first line of defense for heroes against the public, and there were some heroes that were quite hilariously easy to work for because they were genuinely good.

The older PR managers typically held the quieter, easy tempered, or less combat heavy heroes. These heroes typically never had a bad thing said about them, their job was a glorified PA job but even less because there was no expected demands from the heroes they had to take in. Unless, of course, a hero wanted to do some sort of public event they hadn’t considered. 

But there were the louder, quick to temper, or the heavy combat heroes that while made you an insane amount of money, also brought you a near 120 hour work week because there was so much to do, so much to consider, so much to keep your eyes on. There was the constant slander, the people who hated the louder, quick to temper heroes because they didn’t like their attitude, completely disregarding that they had been unsafe and a liability the entire time the hero was dealing with them. The talk shows that took months to convince to allow for an interview because they heard false rumors, and so you have to practically wrestle a boa constrictor to get a measly five minute interview done. And then the combat-heavy heroes… no one would ever shut up about building damages and how this hero broke his nose while he was stealing a store! 

Not to mention having to have every single piece of social media on your phone, set to notify you whenever your clients names were brought up so that you could look at it. You’ve seen more than enough lewd drawings of your clients to last you a lifetime, enough fanfiction, and fan edits that left you with blazing cheeks and the need to never look at your client ever again. But mostly you checked each and every update because you were their first and only line of legal defense on these sorts of things.

You’ve taken down leaked nudes, fake news, and qualmed rumors and speculations.

It was hard.

So when you were shown to your desk on your first day and three files were handed to you, you were shocked to see the hero names you would be working with.

Dynamight

Phantom Thief

Shouto

Somehow, without having yet to speak with a single one of your now current clients, you knew that you were going to have your work cut out for you.

“Good luck newbie!” the woman who gave you the initial tour chirped, clapping you on the back. “You got this!”

Good lord.

Without much to do other than reading through the three’s files, you realized that you already knew a bunch about two of three of your clients. DynaMight and Shouto were two heroes that you knew teamed up with and hung out with Deku a lot, both on-field and off-field if any of the out of costume pictures said anything. Because of their connection with Deku, you had at one point learned a bit about them.

You knew that Shouto was a crowd favorite. He was tall and sweet and a complete airhead at the best moments despite him being smart. Controversy still surrounded his character, despite all the good he did, because of the past history that was brought out about his father Endeavor and his brother Dabi. The country couldn’t figure out where they stood in terms of that reveal. Endeavor did a lot before the reveal, and continued to rise up to everything in his path despite the skeletons in his closet being thrown out for the world to see. They neither forgave him, nor hated him, they only watched and waited. Then Dabi, of course, was seen as a could-have-been version of Shouto, and many tried to ask if he was really a hero and not actually siding with the League. After all, why on Earth would he be defensive of his father too?

The public had an unmoving image of Shouto based on anything but who he was as an individual, and you decided immediately that it would be your job to fix that. He was also, after all, a dear friend of Deku, so you’d do anything.

Phantom Thief was your easiest of the three clients. A relatively well mannered man who was kind and a bit weird in a fun way. He had a great sense of self and was a reliable person on the field. He made a great hero, but you could see the way his spirit blazed with an unspoken rivalry between him and the other two of your clients. Well, it seemed like he was the best until his former self appointed rivals came into the picture, but that was hardly ever, and according to Shouto, he was way worse back in their first year. 

The greatest scandal he’s had so far in your three years of working at their agency was the one time he was lied to about a quirk and accidentally copied a woman's quirk that gave her the ability to change her cup size. Safe to say that Phantom Thief accidentally broke a few buttons on his shirt and was unable to stop civilians from snapping pictures. 

But of course, the one that had you practically crying yourself to sleep nightly for more than one reason was Dynamight.

You’d known about him the moment you looked up Deku on your phone.

They were practically a hero duo in everything but name. They were always seen doing the same things together, whether that be on patrol together or maybe getting dinner, most of their top recorded fights were done with each other by their sides. You had also learned that they were childhood friends, and you practically vibrated at the thought that even though Deku was not your client, the chances of meeting him were still astronomically high.

There was no way you wouldn’t not meet Deku!

But you were wrong, so very, very wrong.

Turns out the hero duo in everything but name meant that Dynamight refused to let Deku be anywhere near him in the agency – the very small amount of time they spent in here. The few times they were in the same room, Dynamight absolutely refused to be interrupted because that was their paperwork hour. You had only ever been blessed with seeing green curls turning the corner as Dynamight gripped your forearm, refusing to let you follow.

“Like hell I’ll let you distract the shitnerd,” he stated simply, his red eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at you. You opened your mouth, ready to defend your not so innocent intentions. “I’m not stupid, so don’t pretend like you won’t try anything.”

Your jaw snapped shut.

Safe to say that you couldn’t do anything about Deku so long as Dynamight was around.

But Dynamight as a client was exhausting to put it kindly.

There were so many opinions and thoughts and issues and praises coming from everywhere. Hell, even the fucking Americans and westerners had caught wind of the Wonder Duo at one point and while you were well knowledgable on their opinions on Deku, the ones on Dynamight were the ones that you had to focus on now.

People still called him a villain, so many unhappy with the fact that he still screamed and cursed and threatened. There were many conspiracy theories that he was working with the long dead League of Villains. They turned their nose up at the fact that he was childhood friends with Deku, claiming that no way an asshole like him could have ever been friends with him. And of course the bullying revelation that had come out shortly after your debut. 

That had been a trip, one that had you even shocked as Dynamight approached the table in front of the media, his body calm and composed. You had watched as he simply said he owed nothing to the media, that he had already done all that he could to deserve his atonement and deserve Deku’s forgiveness. He had spoken clearly, concisely that it wasn’t any of their damn business as to what he did, and if he apologized to them, the unaffected, the ones that had nothing to do with his early years of bullying Deku, of his previous weakness and insecurity, it would be a waste of his breath. 

It isn’t to them he should ever be apologizing to anyways.

You had watched as he stood up, face calm, and hands shoved into his pockets as he stood and walked away despite the screaming reporters. You had wanted to stay longer, have your own hand in damage control, but a swoop of green came in and Deku was at the microphone eyebrows furrowed as he pointed a finger at them all and said that his past with Kacchan was between him and Kacchan only, and his decision to forgive Kacchan were his and only his.

You didn’t hear the rest, didn’t even get the option to hear the way the hero you loved defended the hero you worked for – his childhood friend.

No.

Dynamight had grabbed your elbow and dragged you out of the room with him, the metal doors clanging closed the moment fierce green eyes met yours.

You watched in the company car as Dynamight looked outside the window, one elbow on the doorframe holding his chin; his gaze focused sharply on nothing but the passing sidewalk. Had it not been for the way the hand on top of his lap trembled, you would have thought he was perfectly okay.

Neither one of you talked about that again.

But just because you didn’t talk about it again, didn’t mean the world was the same. People claimed he brainwashed Deku, others demanded that Deku beat the shit out of Dynamight. You knew that Dynamight would want nothing to do with this, but you would stay in the office (an almost useless, empty office as most PR managers did their business at home) for hours long after you were supposed to be gone, practically arguing with someone who only existed behind a screen and didn’t even care that much – but you couldn’t stop.

Seeing Dynamight’s shaking hand had really done a number on you.

“The hell are you still doing here, eyelashes,” Dynamite asked from the dark entrance of the floor. “Go home already, don’t waste your time.”

You had startled at the initial intrusion, but you immediately relaxed seeing the smudged paint around red eyes and blond hair. You barely kept your gaze on him before turning back to your computer and continuing your argument.

“I’m not wasting my time, I’m doing my job,” you remark, eyes squinting at your keyboard because your vision is definitely blurry. “I’ll be heading out soon anyways.”

“God you’re fucking annoying and stubborn!” Dynamight barked, the heel of his hand slamming into his forehead. “This is exactly why I won’t introduce you to the fucking nerd!” 

“What?!” you shriek, suddenly looking at your client as if he had personally attacked you – and in a way he did. “What do you mean you won’t introduce me to Deku because of that?! I’ve already met Red Riot, Chargebolt, Cellophane, and Pinky through you!”

“Yeah, because they’re not stubborn idiots too!” Dynamight accuses, jamming a gloved finger at you as he begins stomping your way. You startle, your chair shooting backward as the explosion hero makes his way towards you at alarming speed.

“What are you—?!” you shriek, hands flailing about as he grabs you by the collar of your distressed shirt.

Dynamight lifts you up to your feet as if you were a sack of flour and you grasp onto his forearm.

“I might tell you that you’re the most annoying and stubborn bitch in the world, but you’re not worse than fucking Deku,” Dynamight sneers, his red eyes narrowed and stern. “I’m not going to let you meet him until you learn how to give or you’ll hurt him, and I’m not going to be part of any reason as to why he gets hurt again.”

Your jaw dropped, clearly offended, but you closed it just as fast; the weight of his words made you a bit sad, even for just a bit.

“You’re kinda cute when you care for Deku, you sure I’m his biggest fan?” you tease, grinning at the hero to which he rolls his eyes.

“Shut the hell up and go home already; it’s annoying seeing you fight a losing battle that’s none of your damn business,” Dynamight simply said, putting you back onto your feet and blocking out your desk. 

“I’ll go home on the condition that for my birthday you at least consider introducing us!” you say, unwilling to move from your spot. “I’ve been working for you for three years! You’ve kept me away for three years!”

Dynamight’s stare didn’t even shift the slightest millimeter, his red eyes unamused as you groaned in grief and annoyance.

“I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself?!” you grumble snatching your jacket and purse from the hook on your cubicle and shoving them on. “My names God of Explosion Murder: Dynamight and I am Stubborn™ but will never admit it.”

You continued mocking your long time client and most definitely friend if you dared to say so, and dragged the heel of your foot all the way to the elevator to which you were joined by Dynamight. The trip down the elevator is silent, and you keep your gaze locked on the closed doors, unwilling to even look at the hero next to you.

Soon enough, the elevator reached the ground floor, and you got ready to walk out.

“I’ll consider it,” Dynamight said as the elevator doors opened. “Also, fucking stop calling me Dynamight, Bakugou’s fine.”

He walked off the elevator with his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants.

“Thank you, Bakugou!” you shriek, your lungs failing you at the thought of finally being introduced to Deku! You hadn’t moved from your spot from the elevator, your chest hammering with the thought of getting to meet Deku.

“Don’t get your hopes up, you’re still irritatingly stubborn,” Bakugou merely calls over his shoulder before lifting his hand in a halfhearted wave before stepping out of the glass door.

That brought you back to reality just a bit and you scowled, knowing you would have to go beyond and above to prove that. 

But you see, there were many reasons to cry about having Bakugou as your client. Besides the stinkhole of his previous bullying, people just were not understanding his typically prickly exterior. You had to go head to head with reputation tarnished, had to slap fangirls away who demanded that Bakugou degrade them where they stood. It was hard to not be stubborn as not only his PR manager but his friend, and in less than a month, still plenty of time before your birthday, you had already grown irritated of the meeting-Deku-card he waved over your head.

“Mei, if I have to go any longer than this, I will die and hope I am reborn as Deku’s new guardian angel,” you pouted, chin pressed against a cold metal tabletop. Your hands being used as glove models for one of your best friends Hatsume Mei. “It’s first of all impossible getting anywhere near him with his guard dog Bakugou literally stopping me whenever I’m within a ten foot radius! And then I’m not even sure what will happen when we do meet again! Would I even be able to talk to him?!”

“Why wouldn’t you? You talk to all my babies with me! There’s practically nothing you can’t do,” Mei laughs, smacking you against your back before returning her intense gaze back to the gloves. “Deku’s uh… I actually can’t remember him but I’m sure he’s a great conversationalist! I think he helped me with the Sports Festival my first year.”

 “That was Iida,” you laugh, wiggling your fingers as Mei demanded. “You’re so bad with names and faces, I’m impressed you know mine.”

“You saved my baby, of course I remember you,” Mei turned her grin towards you, “but come on, why can’t you get with him besides this Bakugou guy?”

“Well, he’s just like Bakugou! He’s practically married to his job! Their schedules basically match together perfectly! There’s literally only three hours a day while they’re on the job that they’re not together! And that’s when they patrol their own parts of town because there’s hardly any activity they don’t need to be attached by the neck.” You explain and rant, your cheeks puffing as you stand up and allow Mei to run further tests on the glove. 

“Sounds like you gotta become a villain to woo this hero guy, huh,” Mei spoke, eyes focused on the glove as you pointed a finger at the far wall and watched as a beam exploded from the fingertip and pierced through the steel wall like butter. “Too bad you’re a goody two-shoes or else I could make you some serious villain gear and make you a fearsome villain to then prove that Hatusme Mei’s babies and creations are untouchable and the best in the world! Muah-ha-ha-ha!”

You know her words are more joking than serious, but that doesn’t stop your eyes from widening. Your body shifts over to where she was standing and you screech pointing at her and just narrowly missing setting off the laser again. 

“THAT'S IT!”

“What’s it?” she asked, completely confused.

“You have to make me a villain!” you exclaim, rushing over to Mei, who is eagerly waiting for her babies returnal especially since it ran perfectly. “You have to make me near-invisible gear that can keep me going toe to toe with Deku until I can seduce him!”

“You want to turn evil?” Mei questions, finger pressing quizzically to her chin. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“I am definitely not villainous to pull that off, but like I pretend to be a villain so that he talks to me and we can like get to know each other!” you exclaim, you’re unable to keep from hopping up and down on your feet, your grin unfathomably bright. “It's practically a romcom in the making!”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mei laughs, altering the band of fabric around your waist. “You do know heroes and villains hardly speak? It’s more like… ‘I’m more powerful,’ ‘No me!,’ ‘No, ME!’”

“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s not true, but whatever! I’ll figure out a way!” you continue on unaffected because this plan was genius! Especially if you had Mei in your corner?! Her recent development of not using such… steampunk designs made her creations elusive and dangerous to own. Hence why she was an extremely sought out manufacturer, by villains and heroes alike. “And if I can go toe to toe with Deku of all people, you’ll know that you and your babies are the undeniable best!”

“Hm, that is promising,” Mei agrees with a nod as she forces you around. “Is this Deku guy all that good?”

“He’s the one you made the iron soles for!” you chirp and watch as the recognition and challenge spark immediately in Mei’s yellow eyes.

“Oh,” Mei chuckles, turning away from you and looking at her pile of made babies. “This would be good.”

“So we have an agreement?” you grin excitedly. 

“Give me a month, and we’ll have your debut!”

Fuck Bakugou for thinking you weren’t good enough!

.

.

.

You hadn’t expected the initial phases of villainy to be quite as hard as it was, if you were being honest. The late nights at Mei’s personal lab made sure to keep your plans a solid secret, but you had to prepare for the wild range of what Deku’s quirk entailed.

There was smoke, something you were already used to working in because of Bakugou and his quirk. You’ve navigated quite a bit in his smog, and as long as you knew where you were, you would be fine. 

There was also that danger sense, which allowed him to know when things were coming – something that shouldn’t be too big an issue considering you weren’t actually attempting to extract danger onto him. 

Blackwhip was a big issue. How far or how much could you do if he even grabbed a hold of you. With sleuthing and the help of Mei having files on everyone's quirks, you were able to find information that blackwhip was a creation made of energy. Meaning that Mei was now making some type of destructing material to lessen the energy of the quirk, allowing for you to escape should he attempt to capture you this way.

Float was stopped by having most of your fights occur within a confined area, which was needed for you anyways! You didn’t need to be caught by anyone else but him! You didn’t actually need to land in jail – you would prefer to not be handled by anyone but Deku, actually.

Then of course the stupid superstrength and superspeed, both of which you knew you could handle with your quirk. You’ve been head to head with people with quirks similar to that before, and you knew your quirk was tricky enough that you’d manage to slip right past his fingers just fine. After all, you knew full and well that the Deku who took down S class villains was worlds quicker than F class villains – aka you.

You would be fine.

But today was day one, first of how many days it would take to get Pro Hero Deku, aka Midoriya Izuku to fall in love with you. 

You were dressed in a black and purple bodysuit that was definitely not inspired by Shego from Kim Possible’s costume. Your hair was dyed purple by a special spray Mei created that would be washed out by the end of the day, but wouldn’t ever give away that it was fake. You wore a mask over your eyes, and grinned seeing that you couldn’t see a fleck of color on your irises. 

Perfect.

And with far too much confidence, nauseating excitement, and unjustified attitude, you marched down towards your first spot, ready and adopting the identity of who you were about to become.

Mirage.

It was time to act. Deku and Dynamight were on different patrol routes right now, and you sent your threat, readying for the moment for the man in green to come in with the desire to stop you. With the very real threat of stealing every puppy within the tristate area being broadcasted within the area unless and hero bests you, you waited for your savior to come and stop you.

“I am here to stop your villainous acts, you villain!” a voice shattered the silence just as it shattered your heart. You looked over your shoulder to see some hero you couldn’t name standing at the other stairwell entrance with his fists clenched and ready to fight. 

You groaned, shoulders crumbling with your well hidden disappointment.

“I wasn’t looking for you!” you exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the flabbergasted hero who was just trying to figure out what was happening. “Where’s Deku?!”

“He’s – he’s not here yet,” he stammers, eyes wide. “It’s not his day anymore to patrol this area?”

“Aw fuck!” you complain, pouting at the realization that you had messed up. “Okay, I’ll be back later, please don’t come back. Bye!”

With a small wave, you easily stepped through the door to the stairwell next to you and left, your threat empty and the hero victorious despite not actually stopping you. And unfortunately, although you had wished and prayed even, this was not the last time a screw up like this would happen.

At the threat of destroying all the cats in the area, you had another hero show up, not Deku, and you groaned and left before they could even finish their call of stopping you.

You then threatened to poison the watering system, to which you found out that Deku was held up at another major villain threat in a different city. You groaned and stomped off after that. 

Then there was the time you swore you would increase the overall temperature of the city per one degree celsius should your demands not be made. Shouto answered that one and you immediately walked away the moment you saw the familiar head of red and white coming your way.

Time and time again you kept being caught by heroes you could not care about, being confronted by no names and nobodies. It was tiring, and Mei was beginning to sigh just the smallest bit whenever you showed up to try yet again.

But you weren’t a quitter!

You would win!

This was your last attempt at getting Deku to notice you.

After threatening to wrap all the citizens in the area with a giant froot by the foot, you were almost sad to say that the heroes ignored your cry for chaos and no one had come to check on you.

You sat outside the building you used as your trap for Deku, pouting into a hot dog that the neighborhood's grandma gave you because you looked like you needed something to eat. It’s a good thing you weren’t actually a villain or else they’d be fucked, you bitterly thought as you took another bite of your food. 

It had been a month of empty, no Deku appearances, and you were going to bite the bullet and pretend to be not stubborn just so stupid Bakugou of all people could introduce you.

You kicked your feet as you sat on the staircase, humming as you watched the empty streets bend with the wind. It was quiet, beautiful, peaceful.

“YOU!” a voice shrieked to your left, and you watched a pudgy, red nosed man racing over towards you, a flash drive clenched in his hands. “TAKE THIS! RUN! DON’T LET THE HEROES TAKE IT!”

You gawked at him, feeling the small plastic device being shoved into your hands as the man collapsed at your feet. You squeaked when you heard a voice yelling stop and you bounced to your feet, turned into the building and raced in.

Your breathing was erratic, heart in your throat as you raced up the stairwell, unable to begin to imagine what the hell the information on the flash drive held. You were practically hyperventilating as you reached the floor you had come to know extremely well, and you stood near the window with shaky hands and legs.

What did you take?!

“I’m going to need that back, I’m afraid,” a low smooth voice said from behind you, and you froze immediately. Old anxiety overcome by a new anxiety, one that made your stomach flip and blood burn. 

Turning around, you felt awestruck to see the one man you’ve been waiting for… for fucking years now, really, to appear before you, finally be there. In the flesh, completely, entirely. Your jaw dropped, your gaze looking down from your clenched hand that held the USB to the way that Deku looked at you with warm eyes that were underlined with steel that made you want to drop to your knees, confess everything, and beg to be his. God, he was so fucking tall. He had only been about five foot eight the last time you had actually talked, and now he was at least a foot taller. His teenager haircut was long gone, now replaced with his curls trimmed at the nape of his neck before filling out on top – not quite an undercut. He had more freckles now, surely. His skin just a bit tanner, a scar trailing from his cheek to his jaw. You knew there were more scars, just as you knew that there were dimples when he smiled.

You wanted to have him between your legs while you begged for mercy, holy shit.

Tucking the USB into your pocket, you tilted your head as you will yourself to relax.

“I went through all the trouble of getting it... I think if I’m going to hand it over quickly, I deserve to know what’s on it, no?” you tease, your confidence coming out of nowhere while a smile spreads ever so largely over your features. Deku’s eyes widened just a bit, shock overcoming his green eyes.

“I’m sorry, but that’s confidential,” Deku stresses, taking a step forward toward you. You click your tongue, taking a step backward while grinning.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked for,” you giggle as you watch Deku’s face go through an array of emotions before settling onto one – curiosity.

“What do you want?” he asked, apparently entirely ready to discuss any and all terms and conditions with you.

“Honestly?” you reply, tapping a gloved finger to your chin as you ‘think.’ Deku, however, nods. His stance relaxing, becoming one of preparedness but not the takedown he had previously entered with.

“A date with you.”

You watch as Deku’s eyes slam wide open, his jaw dropping immediately and he stammered. Oh, how your heart soared and how you felt giddy and wonderful as he seemed to slip and slide on his own tongue!

“A-A date?!” he ends up almost shrieking, his head shaking left and right. “T-That’s a total lie! You can’t possibly – well, no! Please tell me the truth!”

But you were giddy, practically drunk off the fact that you were making the most powerful hero in the world blush like a little schoolboy. You suddenly were on the offensive, stepping towards your hero who was much larger than you with power and drive behind each step. And it must have been the way you stared him down, the way you walked towards him at blank range with such brimming confidence that Deku takes a step back. But it’s something that makes you want to laugh as the heel of his foot gets caught on a raised tile, and you watch the mountain of a man tumble to the floor.

You’re on top of him immediately, hands pressed to his shoulders, knee settling near his crotch with most of your weight so he got the idea to not do anything funny. The USB sits between your fingers, and you lean over his flushed face that looks up at you with wide eyes.

“Actually, I changed my mind, I know what I want,” you say instead, nose ghosting over his. “Everytime I decide to do something… naughty… I want you to be the hero on the case to stop me. You and just you.”

You lean in closer, so close that you could see the specks of gold in his green, green eyes.

Deku hasn’t spoken, and you’re pretty sure his chest isn’t moving as you press your breasts against his.

“Understood, De-ku?”

Your teeth tug at his bottom lip and let go as he nods.

“Good, good,” you grin, sitting up on his chest and taking the USB in your fingers and slipping it into his utility belt. “Take good care of that for me, I’ll see you next time, hero…”

You had only managed to flash a quick wave before disappearing through your usual door, hoping and praying to god that whatever the hell possessed you would continue until you reached Mei’s. It wouldn’t hit you until much, much later than you had stunned Pro Hero Deku speechless within the first meeting.

Hell, you thought giddily as you answered Bakugou’s call about how he probably just got into a bit of a messy situation, maybe you do have the potential to woo him like this. 

.

Thus truly began your descent as the villain Mirage.

.

It was quickly accepted and discovered that the moment you stepped into that costume and colored hair that you were the prey for Deku and Deku only. Most of your interactions with Deku occurred within buildings, and you used Mei’s gear to gain the final laugh each and every time to allow for you to escape. There were times, however, where you could be seen racing through the sky. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop as Deku followed after you, leaping, tumbling, and even catching you at times. 

You flirted with him heavily, allowing yourself to be caught so that you could bat your pretty lashes and press your chest against his. It didn’t matter how professional he was, how good at his job he was, Deku was a pervert – so obviously a pervert it made slipping away almost too easy.

But because you had the world-renowned, world known Pro Hero Deku as the only hero on your case, soon the small block who had to play victims to your horrendous crimes became only a small percentage of people who were watching your crimes. These near daily crimes (or inconveniences/botherings as the people on the internet say to defend you and your actions) are becoming both a worldwide sensation, and so, it took nothing for you to continue having Deku at your feet and the world chipped in. So you agreed to do interviews, forcing uneager reporters to do segments on you so that the hype behind you and Deku’s relationship grew.

You didn’t want him to leave you, not until you got what you wanted, and unless you were an idiot, you were nearly positive you were almost there.

Why would you say that?

Well, a few reasons.

The first came about a week after you had first met Deku again.

You had joyously gathered the means to create a machine to shave down an eighth of an inch of everyone's shoes in the entire country of Japan without their knowledge. You had ever so evilly explained that the point of this was to ensure that for a full day, everyone would feel off and unbalanced but would not know why.

You had said this, grinning widely as you turned around to see Deku standing there attempting to fight off a very amused smile. 

“I don’t think that would be all too evil, Mirage,” he called out to you, arms folding across his chest as he watched you set up the machine to do exactly what you said you would do.

“Mm, that’s what you say now, but just wait until you’re one of the losers stumbling around,” you say back, grinning as you turn around for just a second, wagging the knife at Deku from the distance. 

“Well, regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku laughs just slightly, and you grin, standing up.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, so I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”

You giggle.

“Make me.”

You’re not sure what happens, but there’s dodging and weaving, spinning and sliding. You’re practically wheezing from how hard you’re laughing as Deku can not manage to land a finger on you with the help of Mei’s items and your quirk. It all comes to an end when instead of dodging, you throw yourself right at him, and Deku has not anticipated that. 

His eyes are wide open and you fiercely grin as he falls back onto the floor, unbalanced and only slightly frantic. You have the knife pointed at his neck, the dull blade sitting gently on his skin.

“So, Deku,” you taunt teasingly, your teeth burying into your bottom lip for just a moment at the sight of the dark flash in his green, beautiful eyes. “Tell me one thing, or I’ll continue on with my vile plans.”

“O-Okay?”

“Are you single?”

The second attempt came a few many weeks later. 

You had gathered about 75 tons of glitter bombs and were in the current process of making them one. You had plans of setting it off over Tokyo so that for practically the rest of eternity, the entire city would have glitter everywhere. The only thing is that you did have to glue the glitter bombs together because, well, no one made super giant ones.

“This is so annoying, there’s glitter everywhere, and I’m only ten glitter bombs in!” you complain to the ‘empty’ room but knowing full and well that Deku had appeared through the broken window at least five minutes ago.

“If it’s annoying to you, then shouldn’t you stop?” Deku replied and you grinned. 

He really couldn’t stay quiet, huh?

“Well, if it’s annoying to me, then that means every one of my victims will also find it annoying. Win-win situation.” you say, turning around towards him and winking. Facing back towards the glitter bombs you scowl, “stupid fucking glue gets everywhere, too!”

“Regardless, you know I can’t let you do that,” Deku said as leveled as he could although you swore you heard a laugh in his voice.

“Just try and stop me,” you reply back stone cold.

You stand up and watch as Deku stands up from the windowsill and sighs just a bit too heavily.

“Guess I have to,” he says and shoots out before you’re well prepared.

Typically, and probably in any other situation, this would have been the end. Pro Hero Deku had come at you with the speed and power as he took out any other Class F criminals, but unfortunately for him, and definitely fortunately for you that glue was EVERYWHERE.

Deku’s hand was stuck onto your arm, and your chest was glued to his stomach, and you swear you never quite got the strawberry Deku references until right now.

The perverted hero burned scarlet, his face practically simmering with heat as your body became undeniably stuck to his. You had to fight off the vindictive smirk, the practically snarling grin as you could feel something hot and heavy twitch at your hip.

“Fuck,” Deku wheezed.

“Fuck, yeah,” you grinned.

.

.

“WHAT?!”

.

.

Deku could not look you in the eyes for about 10 more interactions following that, but you counted that as a win. But undoubtedly, your starred and favorite memory of it all was something that occurred just last week of the current present events.

You had stood on top of a building, threatening the entire government of stealing (i.e., cutting off) the aglet of their shoes and sweaters and then removing all the laces so that it would result in their wasted time and entire humiliation!

“I don’t think most people even know what aglets are, to be honest,” Deku said from behind you. You turned around to see that he was standing there with an unsuppressed grin. “It’s not a good enough threat.”

You go unfazed by his judgement, choosing to instead bat your eyelashes and push your hair behind your ear.

“Not a good enough threat, and yet, you’re still here?” you tease, enjoying the way pink flushes to his cheeks.

“Where else would I be?” he says, and you have to ignore the way your stomach fills with butterflies. 

“You’re not cute when you flirt back,” you deadpan, biting your tongue harshly when he says ‘hey!’ “Enough chit chat, let me kick your ass now and then do what I need to do.”

Unlike probably what is 95% of the time, you made the first move today. 

You were on the offensive, jabbing and weaving, sweeping and punching. Deku’s green eyes were nearly black as he watched you, analyzing and taking in your movements, countering them all without so much of an issue.

“I still don’t get your quirk,” Deku grunted as his hand swiped at the empty air. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“So then you can turn me in to the government who are still salty about their aglets? I don’t think so!” you say with a laugh, rolling out of the way as Deku lunges forward. “Try again, baby, I have full faith that you’ll get it.”

Deku puffed out a chuckle and lunged again, his huge gloved hand swiping at you, with nearly accuracy despite your quirk being on. But… he wasn’t exactly perfect.

RIIIIIIIIIP!

Cold air hit your breast and your jaw dropped as your very exposed breast appeared before you and Deku. Pro Hero Deku had torn the breast of your costume, the costume that you purposefully did not wear a bra for because you had wanted this exact scenario to play out.

“DEKU!” you screech, pretending to be modest and covering your tit as Deku finally yanked himself out of staring at your breast and whipped around. 

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn’t think that was going to happen! I didn’t even mean to look at your boob! It just sort of all happened too fast and it was very shocking! N-Not that you have an ugly boob or anything because actually I think you have a very great boob! But oh my god, I need to shut up please ignore me!” Deku spoke so fast in a matter of five seconds, and you couldn’t even tell him to come back as he sprinted away.

His ears burned red and you swore even as he was gone, you could still see the red of his ears illuminating the sky.

You laugh.

“What a perv.”

And so, we are back to the beginning.

Back to how you forced a local news channel to read your demands so that you could hopefully take your final bow as Mirage forever.

With the threat of having a machine that would make dogs bark at a frequency for hours on end until humans eardrums broke then bleed. You made your way to your typical building and hummed as you waited. 

The world outside was the same as always.

There were a few people out, a few cars driving through the street, and a few birds chirping here and there.

It was peaceful.

“Don’t you think the new reporter thing was a bit dramatic?” Deku chuckled from behind you.

You were used to him approaching like that, used to him trying to portray being elusive and cool. In your opinion, it just made him dorky.

“No such thing as being dramatic when I’m trying to go head to head with the greatest hero ever,” you respond back effortlessly. You spin on your heel and look back at Deku, who is leaning against a doorframe that he most definitely is slouching on so that the top of his head doesn’t hit the frame. “Hi, Deku.”

“Hi, y/l/n,” he says with a soft smile, one that's slightly victorious, one that makes your stomach knot in a pleasant way.

“Ah, you discovered my secret identity,” you observe, grinning as you begin approaching Deku. “Should I be scared?”

“Probably not, I don’t think I could do anything to you,” Deku sighs, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you too. “You’re pretty amazing, y/l/n.”

“Let’s prove that then,” you grin while zipping forward.

As if the both of you knew that this was the end of the line, the final confrontation, the battle this time was different. It was showy, flirty, full of spins and side steps, playing a game of cat and mouse while dodging and weaving. You laughed as blackwhip dissolved around your costume, and you frowned as he began using more of his power to get from point A to point B much quicker.

You’re not quite sure how it happened, what exactly you did wrong, or maybe Deku just finally figured out the pattern you used for your quirk because suddenly you were being tackled from behind. You shrieked as the two of you went down, his body flushed on top of you, his chest pressing to your shoulders. 

The both of you were heaving, panting, completely out of breath from the five minutes you took playing around. He holds your wrists in one hand, pinned above your head, and the other one is on your waist. You were trapped beneath him, unable to move the absolute unit of a man above you, arms and hips weak to his weight. You shoved your hips up, attempting to shift some of his weight off you, but you froze as he choked on a breath by your ear.

Your ass was pressed against something hard, thick, and hot.

Oh.

Ohhh fuck.

It was happening.

Holy fucking shit.

Your breathing hitches as you thrusted your ass up again, confirming you were grinding on what was definitely Deku’s hardening cock. And once again, Deku makes the prettiest, most embarrassed gravelly grunt at the back of his throat and you feel like every strand of resistance and strength snaps.

The hand on your waist pulls you even closer against his crotch, and there's lips pressing against your neck, and you absolutely lose it. 

He kisses your neck sloppily, teeth nipping at your exposed flesh, and you grind against him, moaning and thrusting back as your body feels like it's on fire. He wanted you! He wanted you and your plan to woo him worked!

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you keen breathlessly. “Wanted you so badly, Deku.”

“Fuck,” Deku curses, his hips thrusting back against your clothed ass with power you couldn’t fucking wait to feel. “I wanted you too. Wanted you so badly, but didn’t think – holy shit.”

His hand that pins your wrists lets go of you, and moves to grab your jaw. You nearly fucking melt as his full lips slam against yours, and you moan as his lips move against yours. There’s something indescribable about how he’s kissing you, the want, the need, the months of suppressed tension bursting through every move and curve of his mouth. It doesn’t matter to you that you’re pressed up against the concrete floor, you feel like you’ve been placed into another world, an area where you can never come back.

Your arm reaches behind you and buries into his soft curls, you tug at them as your ass circles against his thrusting hips. His tongue slips into your mouth, and you whine at the hot, wet muscle in your mouth, and it sends your head spinning. You can’t take it anymore, you need him, want him flushed against your front.

“Can I fuck you?” Deku asks swollen lips pulling away from yours, his mouth frantic and trailing kisses up your cheeks and down your jaw. “Please, I wanna fuck you so bad. Wanna fuck you on the floor and against the wall. Can I make you mine?”

You nod your head frantically, unable to come up with the words to say in order to tell him yes.  

Deku laughs breathlessly and flips you over so that it’s your back against the floor now. 

And just like you want him to, Deku comes down to reclaim your mouth. Hot, open mouthed kisses, teeth tugging at your lips and hands grabbing your waist. His hands are huge against you filling up the space between your hip and your waist without an issue. Your legs wrap around his waist, feeling entirely small underneath him, but entirely ready to be fucked by him.

His lips move expertly against yours, teeth nibbling at your lips, mouth then sucking on your tongue. You can’t keep the continuous moans from leaking out, can’t keep yourself from staying quiet as your eyes flutter open and see green eyes so dark they look black, staring down at you with the intensity of a predator. 

You were his prey, and you would present to him at the drop of a hat.

His body is hot, heat rolling off of his hero costume in waves, making you feel like you were near burning against him. And the heat between his thighs sits at the bottom of your ass, thrusting up and grinding against you so that you don’t forget even for a moment that you are making him this way. 

“I always knew you’d have such a pretty moan,” Deku mumbles as his fingers find the zipper to your costume and begin to tug it down. His lips trail down your neck, biting and nipping at the newly exposed flesh. “Knew you’d look so pretty under me, waiting to be fucked into submission.”

The words spark something within you, your eyes fluttering as your hips grind just a tad bit faster and you whine. 

“Aw, is that what you wanted this entire time, y/l/n?” Deku asks, his grin pressed against your collarbone. “Wanted to be stretched out and fucked until you can’t anymore?”

“I want it,” you gasp, your fingers burying deep into his curls. “I want you, I want it, I want your dick in me already!”

“Not into foreplay?” Deku chuckles just a bit, tongue then tracing up your neck. 

“Oh I am,” you snap, fingers finding the zipper of his own costume. “You can find out later how much I’m into it, but right now, I have been wanting you for years, and you will not make me wait any longer!”

Deku only nods frantically, and it's a mess of limbs, sloppy kisses, and clothes as the both of you strip to nothing. 

Deku’s in between your legs, one hand pressed to the back of your knee, the other gripping what you believe is his dick because it makes everything in the world freeze as you see it. It’s huge, so thick that his hand wraps around it in a nice grip, and it long, curling up to his abs, curved and veiny. 

“Holy shit,” you squeak, your cunt already clenching at the thought of taking that in. 

“Are you ready?” Deku asks, the hand on your leg moving away for a moment as he cards his fingers back through his hair. “I don’t have a condom, though.”

“That’s fine, I don't care,” you dismiss his words, eyes too focused on the flush cock in his hand. “I don’t think I’ll live after you kill me with that anyways.”

Deku laughs just a bit, his dimples flashing as he leans in and kisses you deeply. You tremble underneath him, feeling so small pressed up against him, and you mewl when you feel the head of his cock pressing between your folds.

“Put it in,” you gasp, leg lifting and wrapping around his waist, “put it in! I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk, do you understand?!”

Deku nods, and with a sense of frantic need, his hand guides his cock into you.

It feels like you’re splitting in half. The girth of his cock stretching your walls out to the max, and he’s only going in. You scream loudly, both in pain and pleasure because it hurts so good.

“Take it, baby, take me all in,” Deku pants, his hips pushing out small, tiny thrusts to ram his cock further and further into your twitching cunt. “That’s i-it, holy fuck, that’s it! You’re taking me all the way in. F-Fuck… you’re so amazing! So fucking perfect!”

Tears are pouring out of your eyes, and your nails are tearing into his back, you sob slightly overwhelmed with his cock and the absolute pleasure of finally getting what you want and it being so much better than you thought. Your cunt throbs almost violently as Deku’s cock finally hits your cervix and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he thrusts in further, lips attempting to claim yours. 

“Fuck me, Deku,” you beg, hips beginning to slam and fuck up onto his cock. “Please! I need you!”

“Such a desperate little villain though,” Deku sighs, teasingly, giving you one strong thrust for good measure. It goes a long way though, the power behind his thrust and thighs promising you a bruised ass, thighs, and cunt makes your mouth water for more. “I need you to promise to never do anything like that again and be a good little manager for Kacchan.”

“W-Wha–”

“Be good and stop being Mirage, or else you won’t be fucked.”

There was no hesitation.

“Okay.”

And just like that, Deku’s soft smile curves into a knowing, fierce smirk, and you can do nothing as his hands press to the back of your knees and he begins thrusting his hips into you. And it takes you completely out of control. 

It’s a messy, frantic dance, your body holding onto his, your lips pressing against his, desperate and needy for his, and he is basically trying to imprint his body onto yours, the concrete, and the walls. Your bodies are so foreign to each other, and yet, when he fucks into you just a bit hard, just a bit faster, you come undone, back arching and toes curling as you sob his name.

It’s overwhelming to know that he can read you this well and for you to have never fucked him before. It’s empowering to see that he likes every forced and involuntary squeeze and clench of your cunt. He loved when your nails dug into his skin, raking their existence against the plane of broad muscles and scars. 

Deku curses your name as you clench around him, his hands moving to your jaw so that he can lift your face to kiss him just so. He kisses you with a heated passion, a need that strips your entire being bare, and his hips slam so loudly against you, the slicked wetness is squelching and slapping with every grunt and moan.

In and out his cock goes, and you praise him and his cock.

You praise him for making you feel so good, for stretching out your pussy with that fat cock of his. You beg for more, and more, and more. You want every snap of his hips to send new colors to your vision, and every echoing squelch of your meeting, sloppy sexes only adds to the blabbering, unmanaged sentences from your lips. 

“Harder, faster, more!” you beg, practically wailing against his shoulders, needing him more and more. The concrete hurts against your back, but you don’t care. You don’t care if he breaks your back, it’s a fall you’ll take. “Don’t hold back! Don’t you dare hold back!”

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Deku gasps, his sweaty brow burying into your cheek. “I won’t though, I won't. Be ready, I’m not sure if you can take it.”

Before you can snap back that you can in fact take it, Deku’s weight falls heavier onto you and the angle shifts just slightly, and your words are ripped right out of your throat for a pitched, window shattering screech. Deku fucks into you with a new power, some untapped strength as greenspark falls from his skin as he ruins you for anyone ever again.

Your voice begins to scream out, the feeling of his vicious, thick cock snapping into you, shoving your shoulders further and further into the concrete was sending your head spinning. Your body is convulsing as he fucks you with new vulgar need and strength. But before you could scream your praises, Deku’s fingers shove into your mouth, and his other hand wraps around your neck, silencing your words and noises as he fucks up into you again and again and again.

“So loud, angel,” Deku smirks, fingers stroking and pinching your tongue as saliva pours endlessly from your mouth. His voice isn’t strained however, doesn’t have any indication that he’s out of breath or ready to tap out and that nearly makes you go insane. “I can’t wait to see everything that makes you look like this… you’re so pretty when you’re getting fucked.”

Your head is spinning, the heated tightness in your core clenching and throbbing as his conquesting cock never once stops or lessens. It just grows and grows and grows. His cock twitches in you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as he lets out a deep moan. 

“Such a good and wet cunt you are,” Deku gasps as you gag against his fingers that press roughly against the back of your tongue. Your vision feels hazy, but you feel like you’re on cloud nine as his hand on your throat opens and closes, demonstrating his power over you. “I’m so glad you went through all this hard work to get me to fuck you.”

You can’t speak, so you nod desperately, you were so happy you did this too. 

Your hips buck up into him with sheer stubborn drive to get him to toss his head back and moan, you wanted to see him unhinged too. Your eyelashes flutter, as his hands remove themselves from your face, and they move to your hips to help you out. But the building tightness and demanding need in your cunt was growing louder, hotter, completely undeniable. Your teeth sinking against his skin as you whimpered loudly, absolutely pathetically as you shifted faster, fucking against him harder.

“I-I’m so close,” you manage to moan out, and a sharp escape of air comes from his nose at that revelation.

Deku nods, his head moving so that his forehead rests against yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “I need you to look at the way your belly bulges while I fuck you before you cum, I want you to watch it bulge as you cum.”

You whimper, the strain in your neck almost insufferable as you peer down at your hastily exposed stomach, and you nearly faint at the pornographic, near-insane image of your stomach bulging with his hammering monster of a cock. And just like that, the tight heat in you snaps without a hitch, and you come tumbling down from the heights of your building orgasm. White heat and light spread through your body, your jaw slacking as you moan loudly, screaming his name as you convulse against him, body entirely limp. Deku, who was barely hanging by a strand, completely loses it when your core clenches like a vice against him. 

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, his heavy, shaking gasps the only thing you can hear as he fucks into you once, twice more for good measure he collapses onto his forearms above you. It’s hot, almost too hot as he lays on top of you, the sticky fluid of his cum radiating against your already blazing walls, and for a bit, there’s silence.

Deku is the first to move afterward, and you whine as he pulls his cock out of your sore, abused pussy. You make a noise of curiosity then fear as Deku spreads your legs even more open and moves so that his head is face to face with your cum filled pussy.

“What are you–?!” you screech as Deku takes a lick out of your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, this does taste good,” Deku smirks as he once again licks your overstimulated pussy and you sob. “Besides, who said we were done?”

.

.

.

.

.

bonus! 

“Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/l/n y/n!” Izuku happily introduced you to his group of friends.

“What the hell?!” Bakugou screamed, thrusting a finger at you and all you did was laugh.

So much for not being stubborn, huh.

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #bnha #bnha x reader

[arkus-rhapsode]

MHA Chapter 315 Discussion-An Almost Great Conclusion, But Misses It’s Mark

Hi guys, Rhapsode here and it’s time for another MHA discussion. I haven’t really done one in a while, but after reading 315, I had a lot of thoughts I was working through. And before I start I want to say, I do not think this chapter is overtly bad. I think there’s a lot of good ideas to it, and overall nothing objectively bad. However, as the climax to this Deku vs Lady Nagant fight, I felt it didn’t quite hit its mark (pun not intended).

If you want my brief opinion of this current arc of “solo Deku”, I actually enjoy it quite a bit. I’m happy Horikoshi refocused on Deku after such a long war arc. As well as Deku FINALLY be proactive in his hero duties. No longer on the rails of the school setting. And I have especially enjoyed his current fight with Lady Nagant.

In terms of sheer action, it’s got a tried and true set up of a sniper battle, but then adds to it by taking the fight into the air. The action is hectic in all the right ways with the unpredictable bullets cutting up Deku as he dodges them with Danger Sense. As well as the introduction to a new quirk of OFA.

But where this fight really shines is Nagant and her origin. Lady Nagant was hero assigned to maintain the illusion of order by getting rid of potential threats and heroes up to no good for the Hero Safety Commission. Until being told to kill in the name of improving society and any of her activities being covered up finally weighed on her and she killed the then president of the Commission and placed in Tartarus. While she’s only hunting down Deku because she’s assigned to, she says that even if AFO wants to rule the world, it’d be more transparent than a return to the status quo.

It’s honestly a great reveal as it finally puts out in the open the actual corruption in the system that’s hinted at, but was never really delved into. But now it also finally has Deku confront the problems of the status quo that he’s grown up in. This isn’t an ideological battle like with Stain on the definition of hero or reaching people who have fallen through the cracks of society like Gentle. This is real flaws with the system that people have had faith in from the mouth of someone who has done their dirty work.

It’s something I think a lot of people have wanted to see. And I’m glad Horikoshi finally did dive into it the structural problems of hero society.

So how does this all get resolved in 315? How does all this end? Well after Lady Nagant targets Overhaul and shoots at him to make the situation harder for Deku to focus, Deku without hesitation goes into trying to save Overhaul (despite knowing Overhaul is a villain), Deku homages All Might and then shatters Nagant’s arm, and finally Deku makes an observation that Nagant wasn’t really going to hit Overhaul and that if she seeing the darkness of society, she knows where to expose it as she still has the heart of a hero. Nagant should join Deku.

But then AFO activates an explosive power right as Nagant is coming around. The blast fries her as Hawks arrives and we’re left on the cliffhanger of “is she going to survive.”

Now after reading this, my feelings have been… mixed. Let me get out this out of the way there is nothing with this chapter I disagree with: I have no problem with Deku making an emotional appeal to Nagant, I have no problem with AFO acting like a heel, and I have no problem with Nagant not being fully evil and never intending to kill. I know that last one has upset some people, but given Nagant’s backstory of killing innocent people for others because they told her so is the reason she fell off her path in the first place. So it makes sense she never intended on killing anyone.

And I know some people have nitpicked how it’s the female villain who isn’t fully evil, but that honestly doesn’t matter to me. As narratively, this arc started with the attack by Muscular and Deku couldn’t reach him. So it’d make sense to potentially end this mini arc on an example of Deku reaching and reforming a villain. It also helps that Nagant has actual layers to her motivation that could actually allow her to be swayed away.

Now my real issue with this chapter is honestly a problem that I was afraid Hori would do after he introduced just how messed up the Commissions back dealings, it’s that Deku doesn’t really take any concrete stance on what should be done about this status quo. Instead, Deku focuses more on telling Nagant she is a real hero and he ultimately wins her over after showing how much a real hero he is.

While Nagant uses the term “fake”, “sham”, and “phony” when discussing heroes and hero society, it doesn’t address the bigger issue. Namely that she feels this way because of the corrupt and unheroic things the Commission has done to maintain faith in it. Deku offers no actual answer to the very real and very hard question she poses.

And his only real response is this:

(I’m being generous as there can be something lost in translation here and it’s a bit on the flowery side )

While Deku did acknowledge this world isn’t Black and white and he’s saying she can expose corruption if she works with them, he dodges actually offering a solution to her concerns about the status quo. Instead more time is devoted to the same kind of “I will save anyone” appeal he always does.

And while one could argue Nagant’s only on the side of AFO because his reign would keep the Commission from having the power they did, even if she doesn’t fully believe in him. She still poses why being ruled by AFO has its appeal to her and Deku doesn’t actually counter that. No pointing out the obvious anarchy that could result from this or how AFO uses even the people he claims to love like Shigaraki. Deku doesn’t rebuff anything and once again passes the tough decisions onto other people. With Hawks appearance here at the end and his baggage about killing Twice, I can very easily see cleaning up the commission as becoming his motivation going forward. Once again resolving Deku of actually needing to make hard calls or form stances.

This is compounded by the fact AFO just blows Nagant up. It really doesn’t matter if you rebuff anything that AFO has said or offered to convince Nagant to join you, there’s no way she’d work with him after he attempts to kill her. Which feels like it undercuts this conversation about morally gray society.

Look we all know that AFO is evil. The audience knows and this is absolutely what he would do, but if you’re trying to give all of the illusion that we’re finally confronting issues with society and bringing this up and why we would get people loyal to AFO or people like the liberators or people like stain. And trying to sway someone away, then just having him nuke them for having a change of opinion. then it undercuts any actual ambiguity of a clash built on addressing moral grayness. Which I feel is always been one of the strengths of MHA.

I was not expecting Deku to have a thesis on how he plans to dismantle the shady parts of society. Or go full Eren Yeager and become his own revolutionary. But when confronted by a villain who isn’t like Shigaraki or Toga or Twice, who fell through the cracks in the system and needed a safety net like Deku wants to be, Nagant was a part of the system. The corruption of society runs deep in her motivation and Deku doesn’t really address it beyond acknowledging its flaws. And yet his actions of “true heroism” are enough to sway her. It just feels incomplete. There is a brief line that you can interpret of him wanting to clean up the system, but it feels way too short for a moment like this. Deku being confronted by all the darkness of a system he admires should cause him to make some kind of stance.

And no, I’m not going to speculate on if Lady Nagant is actually dead and this will finally forced Deku to take a firmer stance or what have you. I do want to keep these discussions at least relative to when they are released and in this moment the thing that wins over Nagant is the same “save everyone”/“inspiration by example” Deku usually does. Which doesn’t feel as satisfying a conclusion as it could be.

Not helped by a good chunk of this chapter being taken up by explaining all the bits and bobs of OFA’s power system and finally explaining what exactly his third quirk does. This feels like padding when I wanted the space could’ve been used for character dialogue or a continuation of their conversation about the status quo.

I do want to repeat though that there is nothing outwardly bad with this chapter. There is no real objective failure in the writing. It’s just a case of, “ this could be stronger.” And that’s the frustrating part.

Tl;dr there’s a lot of things that are good about this chapter from a technical and narrative level. The natural progression of characters and the switching of allegiance makes sense.  however it’s just all shy of really living up to a lot of the stuff it sets up about society and going back to the status quo. As Deku doesn’t seem to have any real concrete stance beyond his usual.

And because a lot of the things around it are very good it makes it a lot more noticeable when it doesn’t quite stick the landing. Not helped by what feels like nothing more than padding with the explanation of quirk ability instead of character introspection about this very legit and difficult revelation. There is nothing outwardly bad, it’s one of those cases of something that could be an 8-9/10 ends up more as a 5-6/10.

That’s my opinion at least. But I am extremely interested in seeing where Hori goes with this. Thanks for reading and I’ll see you next time.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #MHA 315 #bnha 315 #my hero academia discussion #my hero academia 315 #boku no hero academia 315 #izuku midoriya #deku midoriya #lady nagant #hawks #all for one #keigo takami #hero safety commission #overhaul #kai chisaki #my hero academia chapter 315 #boku no hero academia chapter 315

[hotdadslade]

DC’s Failed Shared Continuity

This is a subject that I see touched on a lot but not really addressed, so I wanted to break it down.

DC’s core comics (That is, Batman, Superman, Justice League, etc, and not the elseworld style books like DCeased or White Knight) are generally understood to be happening in a shared continuity. That is, what happens in one book reflects in the other. The series cross over, because they take place in the same universe.

Only that isn’t true anymore.

There are a lot of plot holes that don’t really make sense, but that isn’t what I want to talk about. Instead, I want to talk about the fact that DC has absolutely no timeline, the absolute glut of events happening in and out of main books, and the fact that each DC comic is effectively its own universe, rather than shared between it.

I’m going to address the following examples, just to give people an idea of what’s going on and exactly what I mean when I talk about a shared continuity:

The fact that Alfred Pennyworth’s funeral happened before he died.

The fact that Bruce Wayne was in at least three places at once at the start of Perpetua’s invasion.

DC’s insane event schedule through 2019.

The lack of impact events are having with the readers, such as the fact that fact that the entire of South America went to war, China engaged in mass orgies, and the entire of Britain stared at the sky for days on end and almost no reader has heard about it.

City of Bane’s complete lack of impact in the larger DC universe

And last but not least: Why does this matter, and where does DC go from here?

Alfred’s Funeral is before his Death:

Alfred Pennyworth dies during City of Bane. We see his funeral in Pennyworth: R.I.P., where we see the family come together and share stories before immediately getting into a slap fight over it.

This unquestionably happens after City of Bane, because City of Bane is when Alfred died. Despite this, Ric is still around:

That little note in the bottom left makes it clear that this happens before Nightwing Annual #2.

The majority of Annual #2 is a flashback, but it specifically ends with the Court of Owls telling Cobb (that is, Talon) that Dick will soon be his, and telling him to move in. This happens in Nightwing 63, when Cobb shows up (aided by Apex Lex’s gift), and starts screwing with Dick’s life. I’ll skip over the most of it: what matters is that Talon brainwashing Dick Grayson appears the same night Perpetua’s symbol appears over the city (in Nightwing 66 and a number of other issues), Dick attacks the Nightwings, fights Condor Red, and then is freed from the mind control all in one night.

Which is great. Except this can’t happen after Alfred’s death, because the symbol of Perpetua (which appears everywhere at once) appears over Gotham during City of Bane (in Batman 81):

So we have one event happening simultaneously in Nightwing and Batman, only one happens before/during Alfred’s death, and the other supposedly happens well after.

Which leads us into...

Batman apparently can be everywhere at once

So up above we have Batman 81. Bruce is, at this point, in the city rushing to beat Bane when the symbol pops up.

Here’s the symbol popping up in Detective Comics (1014) while fighting the Freezes (the city, I’ll note, is normal Gotham at this point, not controlled by Bane):

Bruce is in Paris (in theory, after his coma) in Outsiders #6, and then arrives back in Gotham just in time for the symbol to appear in the sky in issue 7:

Even just while researching this, I realized that it happened in other issues too. The symbol appears in the sky in Batman/Superman issue 3 while Bruce is being attacked by the infected:

It also happens in Justice League, but I can’t be bothered to get pages.

This is all taking place in a shared universe, so the fact that there’s three or four different Bruce’s in three or four different books who are all doing completely different things in different areas is... baffling. DC has always played a bit fast and lose with Detective Comics and Batman, rarely defining which is happening first or what their exact order of events is, but this takes it a step beyond that.

It also leads into...

DC has how many events? and What happened to the infected?

2019 was a year. Specifically, it was the year of the Villain, but it really should have been year of the event, because DC had so many events happening almost concurrently that it was impossible to figure out what was going on when.

You had Heroes in Crisis running from late September 2018 to May 2019 (acknowledged in Batman, Flash, Green Arrow, Red Hood, and Titans, but largely inconsequential and rarely referenced again).

Year of the Villain itself spanned the whole year, with two dedicated series (YoTV and YoTV: Hell Arisen), a huge Justice League arc (14 issues!), literally dozens of tie in issues in main books, and 8 oneshots focusing on specific villains and their upgrades. 

This also tied into The Infected storline, where the Batman who Laughs infected six heroes and sent them out into the universe to torment people. This, too, got a number of oneshots and tie-in issues.

You had Event Leviathan, a six issue series which then got a spinoff and soon a sequel through the second half of 2019, which promised to ‘stretch across the DC universe and touch every character’, which has been, outside of Action Comics (which spun it off), a complete non-entity.

You also had Doomsday Clock, which launched all the way back in 2017 and only finished in late 2019. This was intended to ‘impact the entire DC universe’, with the idea that when the series ended, the rest of the continuity would catch up to it and you’d see the repercussions. It’s effectively been rendered non-canon, taking place outside the universe in a single line in Justice League.

So many things were happening, and they were all stressed as extremely important, but when the chips were down...

Most of them weren’t.

Half the Villain upgrades went away with the blink of an eye (Black Mask hasn’t shown up since his oneshot, and Riddler threw his retirement out in favor of being cRaZy in Batman). Heroes in Crisis had almost no affect. Event Leviathan is waiting on its sequel, having meant almost nothing despite the fact that an entire country was taken over. Doomsday Clock is now effectively out of canon.

Many of these (mostly YOTV itself) lead into the Death Metal event happening now, but that’s the thing: they only lead into that. There’s minimal acknowledgement of those events happening in other books. Even when huge things that should be impossible to ignore happen, they have minimal to no effect on the wider continuity. When is Death Metal happening, in continuity? No idea. What about the infected arc? What about Justice League?

Who knows? DC doesn’t seem to.

Which leads into the finale, the great big ‘are you kidding me’ moment:

Remember that time hundreds of thousands of people died, the whole of South America went to war, and China descended into mass orgies?

No?

Neither does anyone else.

In Wonder Woman issue 50 (and some issues around it), a series of dark gods emerge from (you guessed it) the dark multiverse. Each takes control over a single country, enacting their dark bidding. 

(Brief Suicide CW in the description below)

The goddess of war causes the entire of South America to literally go to war, invading and murdering each other. The mob god causes the whole of Britain to walk outside and stare up at the sky, not eating or drinking until they started to drop dead. A god of indulgence causes the entire of China to engage in bacchanalia, which is effectively a frenzied orgy of celebration and dancing. The nameless god has taken over Saint Petersburg, causing those within to commit mass-suicide impulsively.

And of course this has been happening world wide. Tens, if not hundreds of thousands are dead. We see shots of other places - mass murder in the streets of Hong Kong, for example.

We actually see other heroes in this. The whole arc actually starts with Supergirl fighting Diana, and then while she's briefly out of commission, the Justice League (Bruce, Arthur, Barry, J’onn, Victor, and Kendra) show up to help only to get absorbed by the big bad. That’s when the above panel happens, and then even more heroes get thrown at the problem.

In the end, Diana ‘wins’ - by sacrificing her brother Jason to the Dark Gods. The gods return the Justice League, and undo the damage they’ve caused on Earth. Those dead aren’t actually dead, for example. Time gets rewound... partially. We see the Justice League who only partially remember what happened, but the damage around the area is still there.

This should be, by any metric, a huge fucking deal. Literal gods appeared from the multiverse and fucked over huge chunks of the planet. Hundreds of thousands died and then were, in theory, un-killed. The heroes are aware of this, and have at least partial memories.

And yet it’s never acknowledged. 

This is supposed to be a huge event. The stakes literally could not be higher, and yet I’ve never seen this arc even acknowledged in any other book. This isn’t even a unique thing, either: all of New York (and most of the world) flooded in Doctor Fate and no one noticed outside that book.

So what about City of Bane?

But by far the most significant example of this is City of Bane itself. City of Bane was a huge event. Some of the top selling issues of 2019 were the City of Bane issues. It received numerous ads in other books, as well as major attention. It was the culmination of Tom King’s entire run, and lasted for more than half a year. It involved Gotham taken over by the titular Bane, ruling it with an iron fist and using mind-controlled villains as his own personal police force. It was a huge, game-changing event.

And outside of the pages of Batman (and Gotham City Monsters), it might as well not have happened. Any time it is acknowledged, it’s in the most awkward and confusing manner possible.

Batman and the Outsiders, Issue 6, Bruce is in Paris, Alfred gets a callout from Ra’s, and calls Bruce home: 

Bruce immediately gets on a plane and flies home, landing at the end of issue 7 when the Perpetua symbol goes up.

In issue eight, taking place immediately after, we are lead to believe that the entire City of Bane arc happened in between Bruce flying home from Paris and arriving in time to help:

This is far from the only example. City of Bane tends to be acknowledged exclusively in terms of ‘this issue takes place before City of Bane’ editor notes. The only real thing that gets acknowledged is Alfred’s absence: Detective Comics skips over City of Bane entirely (The YOTV issues taking place before, and then going straight to ‘after), Red Hood and the Outlaws ignores it, and Batgirls acknowledgement is effectively skipping City of Bane itself to go right back to talking about ‘cleaning up the city’ with a one line mention of ‘what Bane did to Gotham’. Plenty of other books either don’t mention it at all, or the mention is so minor I completely missed it.

So why does this matter?

Early on in my time in this fandom, I noted that the more a fan is into DC comics (not the fandom, but specifically the comics), the more they’d hate the comics themselves. This extends beyond what most people on tumblr would consider the ‘fandom space’ - I’m talking reddit, league of comic geeks, comic review sites, etc. The fact is that DC has created a scenario where the more you read their work, the worse it gets. Any individual comic from the examples above reads just fine on its own, but when you read multiple comics you start getting confused about why nothing makes sense. There’s no order to things, no continuity. Things are said in one issue and ignored in the next. Major events are trumpeted as changing the status quo but don’t change a thing. DC is actively pushing away their most dedicated readers, the ones who are going out and buying 5+ issues a week.

So what comes next?

The original reason this all came up was the news that DC’s upper editorial staff had been hit with major layoffs. While nothing yet has been confirmed (this happened only three days ago), the general rumors is that DC is going to be majorly cutting back the number of titles. With Death Metal almost certainly heralding a continuity reboot ala Flashpoint, now is the perfect time for DC to figure out what it’s doing with its continuity, and realistically, they have two options.

Option One: Forsake Shared Continuity.

I’m sure a lot of people would hate this idea, because shared continuity is such an intrinsic part of DC’s history, but looking realistically at sales numbers, there’s some major appeal. There’s far less work to it (important with the loss of their editors), and this isn’t to say all the books will be separate, just that they won’t all be inherently linked. Maybe they keep TEC and JL in the same canon. Maybe Nightwing, Batman, and Batgirl share too. The point is, though, that the fact that Gotham is burning to the ground will no longer reflect on Clark, who is apparently just out of earshot with his thumb up his ass doing nothing.

There’s precedent for this as well. Injustice, DCeased, Criminal Sanity, and White Knight are all stories in their own world that are selling (or have sold) extremely well. DC’s top fifteen issues sold for January to March of this year include seven issues of Batman, one issue of Wonder Woman, one issue of Flash, and then two issues of Unkillables, the Robin 80th oneshot, Strange Adventures (its own continuity), and an issue of Batman: Curse of the White Knight. If you go farther down, it’s more of the same - you have to go through every issue of Curse of the White Knight released, as well as Criminal Sanity, to get to Batman/Superman, Detective Comics, Justice League, and Superman.

I’m not sure this is the best choice, but I can’t imagine it’s not an appealing choice just the same.

Option Two: Fix Shared Continuity.

Without question, DC’s going to be (at least temporarily) paring down the number of books they have, and there’s never been a better time for figuring out what’s going on with their continuity. Less books means less to organize. A reboot and one very determined editor could help establish a baseline to work from, but that would require DC to focus on it as a priority.

I’m sure this is the choice most people will lean for, but it’s definitely the more intensive option, and we can only hope DC decides it’s worth it.

#analysis #dc critical

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

September 11, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

On the twentieth anniversary of the day terrorists from the al-Qaeda network used four civilian airplanes as weapons against the United States, the weather was eerily similar to the bright, clear blue sky of what has come to be known as 9/11. George W. Bush, who was president on that horrific day, spoke in Pennsylvania at a memorial for the passengers of United Airlines Flight 93 who, on September 11, 2001, stormed the cockpit and brought their airplane down in a field, killing everyone on board but denying the terrorists a fourth American trophy.

Former president Bush said: “Twenty years ago, terrorists chose a random group of Americans, on a routine flight, to be collateral damage in a spectacular act of terror. The 33 passengers and 7 crew of Flight 93 could have been any group of citizens selected by fate. In a sense, they stood in for us all.” And, Bush continued, “The terrorists soon discovered that a random group of Americans is an exceptional group of people. Facing an impossible circumstance, they comforted their loved ones by phone, braced each other for action, and defeated the designs of evil.”

Recalling his experience that day, Bush talked of “the America I know.”

“On America's day of trial and grief, I saw millions of people instinctively grab for a neighbor's hand and rally to the cause of one another…. At a time when religious bigotry might have flowed freely, I saw Americans reject prejudice and embrace people of Muslim faith…. At a time when nativism could have stirred hatred and violence against people perceived as outsiders, I saw Americans reaffirm their welcome to immigrants and refugees…. At a time when some viewed the rising generation as individualistic and decadent, I saw young people embrace an ethic of service and rise to selfless action.”

Today’s commemorations of that tragic day almost a generation ago seemed to celebrate exactly what Bush did: the selfless heroism and care for others shown by those like Welles Crowther, the man in the red bandana, who helped others out of danger before succumbing himself; the airplane passengers who called their loved ones to say goodbye; neighbors; firefighters; law enforcement officers; the men and women who volunteered for military service after the attack.

That day, and our memories of it, show American democracy at its best: ordinary Americans putting in the work, even at its dirtiest and most dangerous, to take care of each other.

It is this America we commemorate today.

But even in 2001, that America was under siege by those who distrusted the same democracy today’s events commemorated. Those people, concentrated in the Republican Party, worried that permitting all Americans to have a say in their government would lead to “socialism”: minorities and women would demand government programs paid for with tax dollars collected from hardworking people—usually, white men. They wanted to slash taxes and government regulations, giving individuals the “freedom” to do as they wished.

In 1986, they had begun to talk about purifying the vote; when the Democrats in 1993 passed the so-called Motor Voter law permitting people to register to vote at certain government offices, they claimed that Democrats were buying votes. The next year, Republicans began to claim that Democrats won elections through fraud, and in 1998, the Florida legislature passed a voter ID law that led to a purge of as many as 100,000 voters from the system before the election of 2000, resulting in what the United States Commission on Civil Rights called “an extraordinarily high and inexcusable level of disenfranchisement,” particularly of African American voters.

It was that election that put George W. Bush in the White House, despite his losing the popular vote to Democrat Al Gore by more than a half a million votes.

Bush had run on the promise he would be “a uniter, not a divider,” but as soon as he took office, he advanced the worldview of those who distrusted democracy. He slashed government programs and in June pushed a $1.3 trillion cut through Congress. These measures increased the deficit without spurring the economy, and voters were beginning to sour on a presidency that had been precarious since its controversial beginnings.

On the morning of September 11, 2001, hours before the planes hit the Twin Towers, a New York Times editorial announced: “There is a whiff of panic in the air.”

And then the planes hit.

“In our grief and anger we have found our mission and our moment,” Bush said. America had seemed to drift since the Cold War had ended twelve years before, but now the country was in a new death struggle, against an even more implacable foe. To defeat the nation’s enemies, America must defend free enterprise and Christianity at all costs.

In the wake of the attacks, Bush’s popularity soared to 90 percent. He and his advisers saw that popularity as a mandate to change America, and the world, according to their own ideology. “Either you are with us, or you are with the terrorists,” he announced.

Immediately, the administration focused on strengthening business. It shored up the airline industry and, at the advice of oil industry executives, deregulated the oil industry and increased drilling. By the end of the year, Congress had appropriated more than $350 billion for the military and homeland security, but that money would not go to established state and local organizations; it would go to new federal programs run by administration loyalists. Bush’s proposed $2.13 trillion 2003 budget increased military spending by $48 billion while slashing highway funding, environmental initiatives, job training, and other domestic spending. It would throw the budget $401 billion in the red. Republicans attacked any opposition as an attack on “the homeland.”

The military response to the attacks also turned ideological quickly. As soon as he heard about the attacks, Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld asked his aides to see if there was enough evidence to “hit” Iraqi president Saddam Hussein as well as al-Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden. In fact, Saddam had not been involved in the attack on America: the al-Qaeda terrorists of 9/11 were from Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and the United Arab Emirates.

Rumsfeld was trying to fit the events of 911 into the worldview of the so-called neocons who had come together in 1997 to complain that President Bill Clinton’s foreign policy was “incoherent” and to demand that the U.S. take international preeminence in the wake of the Cold War. They demanded significantly increased defense spending and American-backed “regime change” in countries that did not have “political and economic freedom.” They wanted to see a world order “friendly to our security, our prosperity, and our principles.”

After 9/11, Bush launched rocket attacks on the Taliban government of Afghanistan that had provided a safe haven for al-Qaeda, successfully overthrowing it before the end of the year. But then the administration undertook to reorder the Middle East in America's image. In 2002, it announced that the U.S. would no longer simply try to contain our enemies as President Harry S. Truman had planned, or to fund their opponents as President Ronald Reagan had done, but to strike nations suspected of planning attacks on the U.S. preemptively: the so-called Bush Doctrine. In 2003, after setting up a pro-American government in Afghanistan, the administration invaded Iraq.

By 2004, the administration was so deeply entrenched in its own ideology that a senior adviser to Bush told journalist Ron Suskind that people like him—Suskind—were in “the reality-based community”: they believed people could find solutions based on their observations and careful study of discernible reality. But, the aide continued, such a worldview was obsolete. “That’s not the way the world really works anymore.… We are an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And while you’re studying that reality—judiciously, as you will—we’ll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that’s how things will sort out. We’re history’s actors…and you, all of you, will be left to just study what we do.”

The 9/11 attacks enabled Republicans to tar those who questioned the administration's economic or foreign policies as un-American: either socialists or traitors making the nation vulnerable to terrorist attacks. Surely, such people should not have a voice at the polls. Republican gerrymandering and voter suppression began to shut Democratic voices out of our government, aided by a series of Supreme Court decisions. In 2010, the court opened the floodgates of corporate money into our elections to sway voters; in 2013, it gutted the 1965 Voting Rights Act; in 2021, it said that election laws that affected different groups of voters unevenly were not unconstitutional.

And now we grapple with the logical extension of that argument as a former Republican president claims he won the 2020 election because, all evidence to the contrary, Democratic votes were fraudulent.

Today, former president Bush called out the similarities between today’s domestic terrorists who attacked our Capitol to overthrow our government on January 6 and the terrorists of 9/11. “There is little cultural overlap between violent extremists abroad and violent extremists at home, “he said. “But in their disdain for pluralism, in their disregard for human life, in their determination to defile national symbols, they are children of the same foul spirit. And it is our continuing duty to confront them.”

In doing so, we can take guidance from the passengers on Flight 93, who demonstrated as profoundly as it is possible to do what confronting such an ideology means. While we cannot know for certain what happened on that plane on that fateful day, investigators believe that before the passengers of Flight 93 stormed the cockpit, throwing themselves between the terrorists and our government, and downed the plane, they all took a vote.

---

Notes:

https://www.cnn.com/2021/09/11/politics/transcript-george-w-bush-speech-09-11-2021/index.html

https://web.archive.org/web/20050205041635/http://www.newamericancentury.org/statementofprinciples.htm

http://www.historycommons.org/entity.jsp?entity=project_for_the_new_american_century

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#9/11 #September 11th #Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #GWOT #G.W. Bush #forever wars #corrupt GOP #criminal GOP

[alannah-corvaine]

the big ‘so you’ve found my blog’ post;

So. The follow button has led you to me, and now here you are with me on your dash. I assume you’re here for one to three reasons: the ffxiv content I post and reblog, my character(s), and/or the aesthetic content. Possibly also my riveting commentary on why ffxiv hasn’t added a sidebraid hairstyle yet. You’re all valid and welcome here. 

Maybe you’re curious about me and my OCs, but you don’t want to go digging through my blog and the absolute mess of tags I’ve amassed over the years. I’m here to present a half-assed solution to your curiosity instead of fixing my tags in any sort of meaningful way.

                                   WHO RUNS THIS BLOG?

I’m Alicia, I run this circus.

she/her pronouns, I’m cis.

I’m 31 years old at the time of writing this post.

This blog is 5 going on 6 years old.

If you see @alannahcorvaine​ that blog is also me but I don’t use it anymore, as it’s a sideblog and I moved over to this blog years ago.

I’ve been playing FFXIV since 2015.

I also play Elder Scrolls Online and World of Warcraft and have separate blogs for related OCs, content, and aesthetics.

I’m a cat person but I also love dogs.

I have a five year old black cat named Kilala who keeps me in line.

I’m not much of a people person, I’m made of anxiety and paperclips.

I yell into the void a lot, the void being my blog.

I don’t really RP outside of spectacularly outstanding circumstances these days, but character and world building are my jam.

Even if I don’t RP, I’m always down for character connections and relationships. I’m totally up for brainstorming and bouncing around headcanons.

Most of the time in game you’ll find me either standing around my house or out in the world taking screenshots. My mailing address is gpose.

I have a full roster of 8 characters on Balmung, but currently only 3 are active. You’ll probably see screenshots of the others too from time to time.

                                                    THE OCs

                                      A L A N N A H  C O R V A I N E 

Your first assumption on seeing my blog name is that it’s probably the name of the titular OC that this blog focuses on. You would be correct. All of my OCs have their own blogs, however I am infinitely lazy and just end up posting screenshots of everyone here because this is where the followers are and the sideblogs end up being used as aesthetic warehouses. Anywhoo, here’s some need-to-knows about Alannah.

Alannah has two main verses: Warrior of Light and Non-WoL.

Her non-WoLverse is actually the primary one, but with Shadowbringers I’ve been focusing more on her WoL story. 

I also have an infinite amount of AU verses for her based on various media but nobody has time for me to list all of those.

In both verses she’s a White Mage, a capable healer, but focuses more on offensive elemental spells (wind, water, earth).

Alannah is my only OC with a Warrior of Light verse.

She’s 23 years old.

She has severe allergies to  grass, pollen, dust, dander, and certain foods.

Her allergy reactions are largely kept at bay by a delicate chain diadem made and blessed by padjal. It also helps correct her shitty vision, magic is great.

Her deepest fears include deep water and phurbles.

She has four older brothers: Faron, Ean, Davon, and Brennan.

Family issues. Just so many family issues. That’s an entire post on its own.

Her hair is dark brown, not black. I cannot state this emphatically enough no matter what my edits look like.

The white streaks are magical scars, the cause of them vary by verse.

Non-WoL Alannah is married to Nine Outway, they have a three-year old daughter named Aislinn.

Warrior of Light Alannah (hereafter known as WoLannah) I ship exclusively with dead ghost boyfriend Ardbert.

Deep-seated anger issues buried beneath a placid and friendly exterior.

Her aether is just irreparably borked and highly chaotic and is controlled via her staff and arcane symbols painted onto her arms in aether ink.

Her childhood dream was to be a powerful thaumaturge, which didn’t work out with her aether control issues. 

                                R E B E C C A  “B R I N A”  C R O S S                                               ( @thesilentcygnet​ )

26 years old.

Born to a moderately wealthy Limsan merchant family.

2 older sisters: Pippa and Lacy.

Jacke Swallow (of rogues guild fame)  is her best friend (and secret love) since childhood.

Her entire family was murdered when she was 16 because her father made shady deals with the wrong people and owed them money.

She’s been mute since the day of the massacre after witnessing the murders while hiding in the cellar beneath their feet.

She’s been staying with Jacke and his cohorts in the Dutiful Sisters of the Edelweiss since then, though he’s the only one that knows her true identity.

A long chain of events has lead to her being kidnapped from Kugane, shipwrecked off the coast of Othard twice, sucked into a magical whirlpool, and left stranded on the First.

Will she ever get home? Perhaps, when I’ve finally decided that her ridiculous journey has been Odyssean enough.

                                           K H I A R N A   K H A                                               ( @khi-tastrophe​ )

29 years old.

An incandescent ball of unquenchable rage, probably for valid reasons.

The daughter of the khan of a minor offshoot of the Kha tribe.

Had a twin sister named Khiela, who pretended to be kidnapped by an aggressive suitor and lead Khiarna on a wild goose chase across Eorzea in an attempt to find her.

Khiela and her lover conspired to and succeeded in murdering her father.

Khiarna returned to Othard and murdered the shit out of both of them in retaliation for killing her father.

She was then unanimously chosen as her father’s successor and currently reigns as khatun to the nomadic merchant tribe.

While traveling across Eorzea in search of her errant sister, Khi was involved in a relationship with a pathological liar, which has severely damaged her ability to trust people (on top of her family drama).

Currently in a relationship with Sidirahg of the Sixth ( @sidirahg​ ), who has the patience of a saint with her issues and also might be a masochist.

Khi is a shaman and uses a mix of conjury and pugilism in combat. 

She covers her fists and feet in a solid layer of rock and then lights them on fire, using a combination of speed, flexibility, and disorienting blows to fell her opponents.

                                    COMMON TAGS I USE

#alannah aesthetic - aesthetic tag.

#screenshots - tag for unedited screenshots of my characters.

#edits - tag for screenshot edits done by me.

#drabbles - tag for writing done by me.

#about alannah - tag for character profile memes, ask replies, relevant quotes.

#art of alannah - tag for art i’ve commissioned of Alannah.

#commissions - tag for art i’ve commissioned that also includes my other OCs.

#lanna things - tag for posts relevant to Alannah.

#9 - tag for posts related to Nine Outway.

#familial faultlines - tag for all of Alannah’s family issues.

#benedictions]&[bulletholes - ship tag for Alannah and Nine (contains screenshots, quotes, and aesthetic inspiration).

#the gravity of guilt - sub-B&B ship tag referencing events at the ruins of Nym.

#scars of nym - another B&B tag because I don’t have enough of them.

#otp: as one fool to another - ship tag for WoLannah and Ardbert

#AU: Warrior of Light - WoLannah tag.

#AU: Gloriana - tag for the AU in which Alannah goes power mad / angry at the world and misuses her magic to become an unstoppable force of destruction.

#AU: Dark Sunrise - tag for the AU in which Nine perma-dies and Alannah sells her soul to the darkness.

#keeper’s captain - ship tag for Brina and Jacke.

#boyfriend adjust - ship tag for Khi and Sid.

#tbd - tag for me yelling into the void that I pretend I’ll delete later.

                                             OTHER BLOGS

@eastofean - ffxiv aesthetic inspo blog for Ean Corvaine.

@aether-and-ash - ffxiv aesthetic inspo blog for Aislinn Outway.

@blacklacelullaby - ffxiv aesthetic inspo blog for Katja Iryut.

@cleric-stance - salty healer memes.

@sundownsanctuary - nsfw aesthetic inspo blog.

@lannahlearnsart - my hoard of digital art tutorials.

@halion​ - general World of Warcraft blog and inspo for my WoW OCs.

@veil-of-blades​ - ESO inspo blog for various Elder Scrolls OCs.

@theviciousnothing​ - my personal aesthetic blog.

                                           PARTING NOTES

You’ve done it, you’ve reached the end of this post. All of this is just a basic overview of me and my characters, if you ever have any questions about anything please feel free to drop me an ask or a DM any time. Thanks for following. ♥

#behind the blog #pinned post

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 19

Chapters: 19/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18]

"It’s skew.”

“Come and straighten it, then.”

“I’m spotting, you’re hanging.”

Gerry growls at him. Jon looks rather pleased about it.

Martin, who doesn’t want Gerry to hit their infuriating lover with a hammer, goes over to where he’s hanging the massive painting and tilts it minutely to the left. “Better?”

“Perfect!” Jon pronounces, clapping his hands.

Through some sort of witchcraft, the artist has hung the painting in such a position that it emulates where a window would be in a traditional room. It opens up the space in such a way that it seems less like a store room, and far more like a creative space that someone would actually enjoy spending time in.

The lightning helps too, warm light filtering from the ceiling and corner lamps, and LCD strips illuminating the bookshelves from inside.

All in all, considering this was a utilitarian storage space just a few weeks ago, it seems like a downright miracle.

The three of them lean back against Jon's desk, free of clutter for the first and only time in its life. The bookshelves are empty, and except for his new painting, so are the walls.

The piano occupies one wall, and Gerry hopes to hear it being played often.

Jon reaches out and takes Gerry's hand, drawing them close together affectionately. "How long have you been planning for us to move in?"

"Well, I wasn't planning, per se. Only considering the possibility." Gerry smirks confidently. "I know we're all a little bizarre, but this is the course of most relationships, and we could only spend so much time sleeping over before paying for three flats became superfluous."

"Besides," Martin continues for him. "There's no harm in planning for something you hope will happen eventually. Especially when your new flatmates will be this wildly good looking."

He gestures to himself dramatically, doing a small turn in place. Gerry and Jon laugh with him happily, until he stumbles back into Gerry's side, where he gets wrapped up under an arm.

"So do you like your new space, Jon?" Gerry cuddles around him, twisting the three of them into an odd sort of snuggle pretzel.

"I absolutely adore it." Jon utters happily, sighing in contentment as they all lean there together.

***

At the end of June, Jon hands over his keys and the three of them officially live together.

There's still a lot of settling to be done, even though they've been moving in together for almost six weeks by that point. The boxes are unpacked, but they still need to make it a comfortable home for all of them, a certainty that comes only with time.

Martin and Jon both love their studies, a matching pair that look and feel completely opposite.

Martin opts for a small bedroom, keeping the bed from his old flat, his painting hung opposite. He finds an antique writing desk at a charity store, and installs it for writing poetry or working on his laptop in the evenings.

He adorns the walls with pictures and posters, and random pieces of poetry and music that he loves.

It's a cozy space that he adores, even though he opts to sleep in the master bedroom almost always. The option makes him feel like he has his own breathing room, even if he rarely needs it.

Jon's is more of a true study, with a large desk taking up the majority of the space. His walls are lined with shelves, and he promptly fills them with books and knickknacks. The odd collection includes first edition classics, next to mass market paperbacks and music books, with non-fiction nature and animal books scattered throughout. These are interwoven with seashells, tiny mechanical statues and several flowers preserved in resin, gifts from Martin throughout their relationship.

On the wall above the piano, he hangs framed photos of his parents, himself with Gerry as a teen, and all three of them together as adults. The photo he once took of Martin, Gerry and Tim hangs right in the centre, all his favorite humans in one frame. He hangs the sketch of him and Martin in the park from when they were all courting, as well as the others he has stolen from Gerry over time.

Gerry embraces the chaos and upheaval as if it's all he ever wanted, and really, it is. A home, with the people he loves, noisy and frenetic, loving and comfortable.

In the middle of July, he quits his job at the bar in the middle of a shift, with very little contemplation or preamble.

He smiles at his lovers radiantly when he comes through the door several hours early to find them watching a movie.

"What happened?" Martin queries, clear concern lining his expressive face.

"I quit." Gerry flops down between them, snuggling down immediately.

"But why?" Presses a sleepy Jon, trying to hide a yawn behind his hand.

Gerry shrugs. "I got the job because I was bored, essentially. I wanted to interact with interesting people and I didn't know anyone in London anymore. But tonight I realized how badly I wanted to be right here, with you two." He smiles at them, trying to explain without conveying too many of his sappy emotions. "l honestly couldn't think of one reason to be working at midnight on a Saturday, instead of at home, or out on a date, or literally anything else we could be doing together. So I quit."

"Oh Gerry." Jon whispers, both of them carefully tuned to his moods, regardless of his attempts at seeming unconcerned.

"I don't feel the need to fill my time and chase inspiration anymore. I just want to be with you. Both of you." He kisses first Martin's hand, then Jon's, grinning at them all the way.

"I love you. I'm happy you're home." Jon whispers to him, sleepy and content.

Martin hums an agreement, squeezing his hand and smiling down at him lovingly.

They watch their movie and then go to bed all together, and Gerry knows he's made the best choice of his life.

***

Gerry finds himself with an odd amount of time on his hands while his partners go to work during the day, like normal people.

He decides to take on several art commissions from clients he's actually interested in working for, which thrills Gertrude. He doesn't think it entirely makes up for his boyfriend hitting Peter Lukas in the middle of a showcase, but it's a start.

He also indulges himself and buys a new tattoo machine.

He's not really interested in taking clients again, but… well, he wants it and so he gets it. If it's only to use on himself or the occasional visitor, then that's fine by him.

"You have everything you need to give tattoos now, right?" Martin asks him one early morning.

Gerry is still mostly asleep, clutching a cup of tea and petting Saturn where he perches on his lap. He blinks at Martin, confused.

"I think so. I mean, I haven't used my machine yet, but there's really only one way to test it out." Gerry tilts his head curiously, sunlight glittering in his hair, dyed back to its original black. "Why do you ask?"

"Do you want to give me one?" Martin grins at him a bit shyly.

Gerry sits up straight, instantly wide awake. "Yes. So much."

Martin laughs warmly. "You have the same look on your face that Luna gets when we take out the catnip toys."

Uncaring about how eager he might look, Gerry shoos Saturn to go over and kneel by Martin. "I would be honored to have your tattoo virginity. Do you want me to draw something?"

"Yes," Martin tells him with a grin, "that's exactly what I want. A Gerry Delano original, right on my skin."

"What do you want it to be?" Gerry's teal eyes are bright and slightly manic, and Martin glories in the sensation of producing a new reaction in his lover.

"It's entirely up to you." He responds, pressing a firm kiss to Gerry's mouth. "I want to see what makes you think of me."

"Oh, I like it." He declares, jumping up and going off to find a sketchbook.

Martin sips his tea and smiles to himself, very pleased indeed.

***

"You're just going to let him give you whatever he wants to?" Jon blanches when Martin tells him.

"Relax Jon, it's Gerry, not some evil mastermind. He'll draw something I like. And if I don't, it's not hard, I just tell him no."

Jon, who rather considers that Gerry is an evil mastermind, does not look convinced. "But…"

"Hush, love." Martin tells him firmly.

Gerry, drawing under the window nearby, takes no notice of them. He has a focused frown on his face as he concentrates on the careful lines appearing on his page.

Martin considers it a rare pleasure to just watch him draw, and tries to guess what might be forming on the page before him.

He completely trusts that Gerry knows him exactly well enough to draw him the perfect tattoo. And then he can have his own piece of Gerry, inked right into his skin.

When he sits back down with Jon and Martin a little later, he has a smudge of charcoal above his eyebrow, and Martin gently rubs it away before Gerry has a chance to start talking. He blushes quite uncharacteristically, and Martin knows it means he's been swirling in the frantic rush of his own creativity.

"So I have a proposal for you." Gerry starts, body humming with excitement. "A tattoo in two parts, if you will."

"Yeah?" Martin encourages him, just as interested.

Gerry collects Martin's hand in both of his own, running a thumb over a spot on his wrist. It's the same place that Jon has his own tattoo, which immediately makes Martin pleased. "A small crescent moon, right here. The placement to match with Jon, the symbol for Luna."

Gerry pushes a scrap of paper forward, an elegant crescent moon filling space.

"For the other…" Gerry turns over the larger page, handing it to Martin.

There's an immeasurable beat of silence as Martin contemplates the design before him. A set of waxing and waning moons, connected by a series of dots, lines and more dots making a background of geometric shapes.

He… feels it. He understands now, what Jon had meant, when he described seeing the inspiration for his own tattoo for the first time. It's a representation of some inner part of himself, normally hidden from the world, but carefully unearthed for his lovers, over the course of many months and endless intimacy.

"Martin?" Gerry entreats, leaning minutely closer to him.

"I love it." He whispers, pulling the goth over to kiss him fiercely. They tangle together pleasantly, for several moments, everything else falling away as they get absorbed in each other.

"Not that anyone asked me, but I like it as well." Jon informs them pertly.

"Your opinion is as important to us as ever, baby." Gerry replies, grinning proudly. He turns back to Martin. "Where do you want it?"

Martin considers for a moment, before getting up and pulling off his shirt and jumper, leaving himself bare from the waist up. He still feels a small pang of shyness to be naked in any way, but confidence born of time and perspective drown most of it away now.

He and Gerry stand facing each other. Martin lifts the other man's hand, placing it on his sternum, over his softly pounding heart.

"Right here?" Gerry asks, voice soft.

"Right here." Martin affirms.

***

In the end, Gerry takes them over to Melanie's tattoo shop to work on Martin. He lists a number of reasons, but really, he finds a certain amount of comfort working under the stark lights and amid the buzzing of other machines.

They do the small tattoo first, and Martin sits for it exceptionally well.

Before Gerry starts the sternum piece, an endeavor of several hours, Georgie arrives and drags Jon off to drink coffee and catch up in a nearby coffee shop. Melanie goes into the next room to take another client, and Gerry and Martin are left alone together.

"Ready, love?" Gerry asks as he finishes placing the stencil, bisecting his chest.

"I'm nervous," Martin confesses softly.

Gerry doesn't move his gloved hands, not wanting to contaminate them, but he does press their foreheads together gently, taking a moment to sooth Martin with his companionship.

"Do you want to take a break? You can just sit with the stencil for a while." Gerry leans forward and places a swift kiss on Martin's nose, before retreating from his personal space.

"No, I'm ready." He smiles, biting his lip a little. "I just- I feel like this is a big moment, you know?"

"It is. You're embracing who you really are." Gerry runs a finger along one of Martin's chest scars, considering. "You're choosing to love yourself instead of just tolerating him."

"How can you always tell?" Martin whispers the words, voice heavy with emotion. "How can you put things into words like that, so simply."

"I know you. You think I don't see when you avoid looking in the mirror. You hope I don't notice that you used to hate being naked, even with Jon and I." Gerry pauses, tripping Martin's head up with the tip of a finger, minimizing contact still. "But I see you, Martin. I love you just the way you are. And I want you to love yourself just the same. I'll tell you everyday, show you constantly, if I need to."

Martin is crying for real now, tears streaming down his face. Gerry abandons his sterility, pulling Martin into his arms. He rocks his lover gently, and they are just together for a moment, no need to rush, no distractions. Just them, and the comfort they find in each other.

"I love you too." Martin tells him simply, when they pull apart.

"Good," Gerry grins, kissing him thoroughly, the taste of salty tears on his lips. He stands, pulling off his ruined gloves and going to wash his hands again.

Martin takes a sip of the tea Jon made him before he left, smiling because Jon always makes it with a little more sugar than he allows himself. "I'm ready."

When Jon returns, they're just finished up, the last few moments of buzzing filling the air. He watches them together, artist and canvas, and loves them fiercely.

"How was coffee with Georgie?" Martin queries, taking his offered hand.

Jon relays the details as Gerry finishes, and then cleans up.

Jon and Gerry stand on either side of Martin in the mirror as he looks at it for the first time. Martin nods wildly, when Jon asks if he likes it, and they hug him from either side as he sheds a few more tears.

Jon had once thought that tattoos seemed very boring in comparison to Gerry's normal work, but seeing the design come alive on Martin's skin, full of feeling and depth, he can't help but think of it as the best thing his lover has ever done. Gerry can't help but agree.

"Let's go to the park!" Martin exclaims as they leave, after saying their goodbyes to Georgie and Melanie.

"The park?" Jon asks, laughing. "It's so windy."

"I don't care, I want to feed the ducks and eat ice cream with my boyfriends." He insists, giddy with happiness and adrenaline.

"Okay, but you're picking the flavours this time." Gerry says, taking one of Martin's hands. Jon takes the other.

"Deal."

***

Jon and Gerry find themselves watching Martin once again feed ducks as they sit beneath a tree, more than a year after the very first time.

"Why don't we come to the park more often?" Jon asks from where he reclines between Gerry's long legs.

His arms snake around his waist, and Jon feels very content and comfortable, despite the cutting wind.

"Because," Gerry kisses under an ear softly, "we live in England and it rains more than 100 days a year."

"He looks so happy here." They watch as Martin stoops to offer a piece of bread to a curious toddler. The child is inordinately pleased, and her mother watches on gratefully from nearby as they feed the rowdy birds together.

"Are you happy?" Gerry asks him, unexpectedly serious. "With your life, with me?"

"Gerry! Of course I'm happy with you." Jon sits up, turning in the tangle of Gerry's limbs to face him.

"I'm only checking on you." He runs a gentle finger down Jon's face, then cups his cheek affectionately. "I know how much stress work puts you under and I hate that for you."

Jon looks away from his intent gaze, fiddling with his fingers nervously. "Well, yeah. My job sucks. The worst part is, I love being a librarian! Being surrounded by books, helping people choose something to read or guiding them with their research. But that's so little of my job now, and Elias just finds new and interesting ways to put pressure on me. But I'm not qualified and I know I probably won't get another job in a library, especially not without a glowing recommendation from Elias-"

"And we both know that's never going to happen." Gerry finishes for him.

Jon nods and they just sit together a moment. Gerry lifts one of his hands and kisses each of his fingers and then his palm, until Jon blushes and smiles at him.

"I know you think it's annoying, so you keep your feelings about work inside, a lot of the time. I don't want you to do that anymore, okay? If you have a terrible job, then we all carry that."

"But-"

"Nope, no buts. We are all partners. That means more then dinner dates and living together and sex."

"And punching rich fuckers who hurt our Martin."

Gerry laughs, still reveling in Jon's unexpected protectiveness- and the violent manifestation of it. "Yes, that too. There will be other jobs, for all of us, probably. But our relationship, the three of us. We're forever."

"Like those tattoos that you gave Martin today?" Jon asks, pert glint in his eye.

"Yes, much like that." He smirks brazenly back. "And the one I gave you, and the ones I've given myself, over the years."

Gerry continues, squeezing Jon's hand, "I know that the idea of not being able to provide for yourself scares you, but we're in this together now. You don't have to cling to a job that you hate in case you're left without one at all."

"I-" Jon looks away, uncomfortable to be so well understood. Gerry stits with him, energy easy between them, just holding his hand, loving and supportive.

"I have been considering, that is, maybe becoming a school teacher." The confession is halting, and he offers it with a small shy smile.

"I think that's a wonderful idea." Gerry responds, gentle encouragement colouring his voice.

"I would probably have to go back to school for a year. Get a post-grad in Education. I wouldn't be working for most of that time, and my savings will only go so far, even without having to pay rent." Jon whispers, as if the words will be any less offensive to him if they are quiet.

"You know I can float you, especially for just a year. And Martin too."

"It just doesn't seem fair to burden you with that."

"It's not a burden, it's a part of life. You think you're so old, that you should be settled, but you're barely 30, Jon. You still have time to make new life choices occasionally, and the point of being in a relationship is that you let us support you every now and then." Gerry is earnest and focused, and Jon can't help but believe him, long fingers cupping his face and teal eyes holding his gaze.

Martin arrives then, plonking down next to Jon and giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"What are we talking about then? Such serious faces."

Gerry nudges Jon, who haltingly offers Martin the same idea he told Gerry.

“Oh, I think that’s a great idea.” He says, eyes alight. “Like, high schoolers, right?”

“Yes, of course. Anyone under 10 is an alien and I don’t want to hear any arguments.”

They laugh at him, their contentment surrounding him warmly.

"You don't have to quit right away." Martin offers. "There are plenty of part time degree programs, and you have to apply first. It all takes time."

"You seem pretty clued up about it." Jon observes, narrowing his eyes at Martin suspiciously.

"Well, if you must know. I've been thinking about getting a business degree."

"Oh my God! Martin, how is this the first we're hearing about this?" Gerry demands, sitting up straight.

"I didn't want it to be a thing until I was sure, and the move was over." He confesses, "It's gonna take a lot of my free time and I wanted to discuss that with you both carefully."

"I'm gonna be living with two thirty year old students." Gerry mutters, shocked. He leans back against the tree again, running his fingers through his long hair.

"I haven't agreed yet-" Jon starts.

Martin speaks up at the same time. "You could get a degree too. We could all be students together."

"No, but thanks anyway." Gerry shudders, grimacing. He perks right back up. "I'll be your sexy study partner though."

"Gerard!" Jon cries, scandalised.

Gerry shakes his head. "As if I've never felt you up while you were trying to study for a test."

"Exactly!" Even Jon struggles to keep up his prim expression at that, and they tumble into pleasant laughter together.

"So," Martin hazards, "are we gonna do this?"

"Well, if you're going to. I suppose we should both get it done at the same time." Jon responds, still hesitant but clearly warming to the idea. "You're really okay with this, Gerry?"

Gerry beams at them both, a soft, special look in his eyes. "I'm more than okay with anything you want to do with your lives. In case you haven't noticed, I'm really very fond of you both."

Jon leans forward in the circle of Gerry's legs, pressing their lips together in a gentle kiss, before turning back to lay against his chest.

Martin shifts around to lean into his side, and Gerry tucks one arm around him, the other around Jon. Jon reaches out to take one of Martin's hands, and the three of them sit wrapped up together.

As ever, their own mutual magnetism draws them forever closer and closer, binding them to one another in an inexplicable tangle of love and affection.

"Do you think it will always be like this, between us?" Martin whispers gently, as the sun begins to set and the landscape sets ablaze before them.

"Probably not," Jon responds, voice warm and content. "Life will keep shifting like a tide, and we'll move with it, but the great thing about us is- we're moored together. Nothing can keep us apart, because what we have is stronger than whatever shifts and eddies might try to take us away."

"The gravity between us is fiercer than any storm, any disaster that might try to shake us." Gerry picks up Jon's train of thought, pulling them both minutely closer.

"Good," Martin says simply, fiercely in love and the happiest he's ever felt.

They watch the sun as it drops below the horizon, sometimes quiet and occasionally sharing some errant thought or another.

They eat ice cream on the way home, holding hands and laughing.

It's warm, and soft and peaceful.

And they're all, finally, home.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #fic #also on ao3

[gamenation7]

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[backtothestart02]

If Only She Knew - 6/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: You’ll like this one. ;)

Commissioned by Patricia H.

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Chapter 6 -

He and Joe had been waiting a good extra 10 minutes than it took them to change for Iris to come out.

“Iris, honey, we don’t have all day,” Joe had said five minutes in.

“Actually, we do,” she’d quipped. “It’s only 11a.m.”

Joe shared a look with Barry over that remark but waited nonetheless.

“Iris, do you need…help?” Barry asked, then regretted it.

He couldn’t imagine how he’d make it through helping the love of his life into her swimsuit, but it was the only thing he could think of to say in the passing minutes. Thankfully, Joe didn’t so much as flinch.

“I do not, thank you very much!” she’d said, and then the door flung open and she stepped down out into the open.

Joe hadn’t allowed Iris to get a bikini – there’d been a big fight over that – but the halter-top tankini she had insisted on left a decent-sized strip of her stomach exposed, and that was quite enough to make Barry’s stomach flip.

Her top was white with multi-colored polka dots and her bottoms were a light blue. Iris kept her hair up in a high ponytail with tendrils of hair floating around her neck and one on each side of her forehead, framing her face. Her pink flip-flops were platform and increased her height by two inches, which appeared to give her an extra dose of confidence.

Barry’s trunks had a pattern of red flames – per Iris’ insistence. It was such a contrast to his super pale skin that he felt exposed, but he reassured himself with the possibility of getting suntanned this year instead of sunburned. Time would tell.

Right now, he couldn’t take his eyes off Iris.

If she asked him to put sunscreen on her back where she couldn’t reach, just touching her skin would –

“Great! We can go now,” Joe said, heaving the beach bag higher up over his shoulder.

Iris pouted. “That’s all you’re going to say?” She spun around in front of them, and Barry’s eyes went wide. Joe glared at his daughter.

“What are we supposed to say?” Joe asked, and Barry knew Iris snagging this swimsuit had just barely been a win on her end.

Iris scoffed. “That I look amazing?”

Joe opened his mouth to respond, but Barry beat him to it.

“You look amazing, Iris.”

Joe pursed his lips.

“Thank you, Barry. At least someone appreciates me in this amazing suit.” Joe shook his head in disbelief, but Iris ignored is penetrating gaze. “Now, come on, the beach waits for no one.”

She slipped her sunglasses over her eyes and strutted past them to head towards the beach just down the road. Joe turned to look at Barry, hoping for help in that corner, but he received none.

“She does look amazing in it, Joe,” Barry said.

His face fell. “Not helping, Bear.”

Barry shrugged helplessly and followed Iris, stifling a slight smile when he heard Joe sigh behind him.

When they reached the beach, the first thing Joe and Barry noticed was how full it was of people. But the first thing Iris commented on was what lay directly ahead of them.

She inhaled deeply through her nose and out through her mouth.

“The sea!”

“Actually-” Barry started to say, then stopped himself.

If Iris wanted to believe the lake was the sea, by all means, he would let her.

“Can’t you just smell it?” she declared, clearly enthralled.

Daringly, Barry reached for her hand to pull her from her trance, and immediately her eyes opened. She turned to look at him, a hint of a smile in her sparkling eyes. Barry was enraptured.

Joe, oblivious once more, moved past them.

“Yes, it’s all very nice, Iris. I’m going to try to find a spot and set up camp. You two have fun now.”

“Oh, my God, the lake!” Iris declared, giddy. “Come on, Barry, let’s go!” She squeezed his hand and dragged him with her.

It wasn’t hard to keep up, what with his legs being so long, but Iris’ enthusiasm was unmatched. It dawned on Barry seconds before their feet left the dry sand that the water was going to be cold.

“Oh no.”

Splash!

“Oh my gosh, Iris!”

He surged into the water with her iron-clad grip on his hand. His head plunged under water before he could take a breath, and seconds later he came up, coughing up water from his nose and mouth.

“Ow.” He pressed his fingers to his nose and massaged gently.

Iris came up a moment later, giggling and more smiley than he’d ever seen her.

“So, you thought that was funny, did you?” he asked, still massaging his nose.

“Aww, come on, Bear,” she said, swaying as she walked over to him, rising up beneath the water with droplets trickling down her face and neck to between her breasts.

Barry hoped she didn’t notice his gaze follow the water for a split second.

It was unlikely she had, because moments later she jumped up onto him, and he fell backward into the water. This time he remembered to take a breath. He was so focused on taking a breath in fact, that he didn’t even realize he’d grabbed her butt when she jumped onto him and used that grip to hold her to him.

The same cute butt that he’d been unable to take his eyes off of the day before.

Luckily for him, when they came up for air moments later, his hands had slid up to her waist – which wasn’t much better, considering he lifted her tankini top in the process and was now touching her wet, bare skin. He quickly let go as soon as he realized what he was doing, and had her arms not been wrapped around his neck, she’d have dropped into the water again as soon as he stood up.

Not only that, but her legs were wrapped around his waist, and she was flush up against him and innocently oblivious of what it was doing to him.

“Race you to that island?” he asked when it became obvious she wasn’t letting go of him any time soon - and for them, he had to admit, that was normal.

Iris turned and looked at the little island in the middle of the lake overgrown with trees and grass and with plenty of sand of its own.

“You’ll beat me,” she said. “Your arms and legs are longer than mine.”

He grinned. “I’ll give you a head start.”

“Barry, I don’t know…”

“1…”

“Oh, okay, okay!” She took off as fast as she could.

“2…3…” He waited until she was a good distance away, then shouted, “10!”

“Barry!”

He swam easily past her and made it to the island first.

“Not funny,” she scowled after she finally made it a few minutes later.

“Aww, come on, Iris, don’t be mad.”

She kept walking.

“Push me into the sea. I deserve it.”

She stopped, turned around and saw his toothy grin and couldn’t resist.

Before he realized what happening, she was pushing him backward and then shoving him into the lake.

“Serves you right!” she yelled and turned around, headed for the center of the island.

Barry surfaced moments after she disappeared into the trees. Despite it all, he was still smiling.

…

Hours later, Joe opened his eyes in his chair on the beach. He was beneath the big umbrella and found the book he’d told himself he was going to read a good chunk of today was still on page 1 and about to fall off of his chest.

“Damn,” he muttered, then closed it and stuck it into the beach bag.

He looked at the towels on his left – towels meant for Barry and Iris – and found them vacant. He scanned the beach for any sign of them, but they were nowhere to be found.

He told himself not to panic. He could easily have just missed them. Or they could’ve gone to the bathroom or on a hike or, or-

“Hey, Dad!”

Joe exhaled a sigh of relief. The voice was Iris’, but the sight before him wasn’t one he could have ever expected.

On a raft made of wood and softened with leaves lay Iris, and behind her was a panting Barry Allen swimming with his hand on the raft, guiding it to shore.

Joe blinked, then stood up.

“What in the worl-”

“We made it!” Iris cheered, hopping off the raft and running to her dad. “Barry and I made it from what we could find on the island!”

“What island?” Joe frowned.

“Tha- …That one.” Barry pointed behind him, following Iris and greedily gulping down the bottle of water Joe handed him on arrival. “Thank you.” He gasped for air after finishing.

“You…you two swam all the way there?” Joe asked, unsure whether to be impressed or horrified by the distance.

“It was Barry’s idea!” Iris said excitedly, which amused Barry, since she hadn’t been a fan at the start.

“Was it now?” Joe turned to look at Barry who was still breathing heavily. “Easier there… Than on the way back.”

“I bet.”

“So, what do we have for lunch?” Iris asked, digging in the bag just behind Joe. The movement relieved any possible tension that could have existed between Joe and Barry, and they refocused on the food Iris was digging up. “PB & J? And chips?”

“And soda!” Barry said proudly. “I brought that.”

“I think you should stick to water, so-” Joe tried, but Barry was already downing a mountain dew, and there was nothing that would stop him.

Joe shook his head, let himself sink into laughter and then grabbed some food and a drink of his own.

“So, what else have you two been up to – besides escaping to Treasure Island?”

Iris said something, but her mouth was so full Joe couldn’t make it out. He turned to Barry for a translation.

“Just swimming,” Barry supplied, and Joe nodded.

“Ah,” he said.

“Did you get very far in your book, Dad?” Iris asked after swallowing.

“Uh…not too far. I was mostly, um…mostly sleeping.”

“Oh, Dad,” Iris despaired. “You said you’d read it.”

“And I will, honey. I will.”

“Mhmm,” she murmured disbelievingly.

“I’ve read five,” Barry said, grinning with jam on his teeth and on the corner of his lips.

“Oh, Bear.” Iris licked her thumb, then got the jam off his lips.

Barry stilled, but he was too proud of himself for beating Joe’s number of books for the summer so far – since Iris had announced to all of them that they’d be having a contest for most read books by September, and so far Joe had read one.

“How many have you read, Iris?” Barry asked.

She licked her lips. “Four.”

He grinned wider.

“But I’m halfway through my fifth, so don’t say a thing!”

He laughed. “I wasn’t going to!”

“Oh, yeah? Oh, yeah?” She started poking his stomach, and by the third poke he was out from under the shade of the umbrella and dissolving into a fit of giggles because now she was tickling him.

He turned and ran, and Iris was quick to follow him.

“I’m gonna getcha!” She called after him.

“In your dreams, Iris West!” Barry laughed, running faster.

“Hey, kids! Kids!” Joe called, but it was useless. They were too immersed in their game of tag with each other that Barry was clearly winning. So, he sat back down, finished his sandwich and sank into his chair for another “short” nap.

Along the shore, Barry was starting to slow down, give Iris a shot at catching him – or at least the illusion that she might. He smirked to himself. But without looking he ran straight into a bunch of less than smooth rocks beneath the surface of the water and tumbled over them into the sand.

“Barry, what the- Ahhh!”

Iris tumbled after him, landing on top.

“Are…are you okay?” she asked, licking her lips with his face so close to hers.

“I might have some cuts on my feet.” He groaned, the back of his head pressing down into the sand. “I hope they’ll be better by Friday. I really don’t want to be incapacitated for our hike up to-”

He was silenced. Because in that moment, Iris’ concerned face looking down at him, descended to his. Her eyes closed. Her lips puckered. And she kissed Barry Allen on the lips.

But he didn’t reciprocate. He was so startled, so unprepared, his feet still throbbing and wondering how hers weren’t too, that he didn’t kiss back. He just opened his eyes, and she pulled back immediately, her eyes wide as well.

“I…I’m sorry, I-”

He watched her closely, his heart pounding in his chest, shivers spreading across his skin, and butterflies fluttering inside him, and started to sit up. Whatever happened, he did not want her to-

“Can we just pretend that didn’t happen?”

“Iris.”

“I’ll go get my dad. He can get you fixed up and maybe you take a break for a while, while my dad and I make a sandcastle.”

“Iris.”

“I’ll be back!” she said through her teeth – her brightly shining, forced cheerful smile that told Barry loud and clear she was holding back tears. But she ran off before he could stop her again, and he had to sit there, staring at his bloody knees and feet and wondering what the heck had just happened.

Had Iris West just kissed him?

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

#westallen #fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #if only she knew #chapter 6 #fic commission #for patricia h

[celialestial]

Okay. Well, if I’m being honest, this episode was not the greatest. This is also the first analysis I’ve made for a show, at least that I’m posting. We’ll see how this goes. Strap in, this is going to be long. 

I think we have all learned by now that Jamie-focused episodes are never the strongest. I find it a bit ironic that in a show called Jamie Johnson, the least interesting character is Jamie himself. 

We finally saw the end of the, dare I say, idiotic Under-13s subplot. The classic “arguing friends are trapped in a room together until they make-up” trope was used to its, not fullest, but decent potential. The greatest part of this episode was the fact that their eighth-grade drama was resolved; that and the ten seconds of screentime Dillon received. Liam continues to prove that he has still not grown. Here’s my analysis of his development:

[I was going to insert a clever chart of his nonexistent growth, but I’m too lazy, sorry. Here’s a paragraph about it instead:]

Liam needs to learn that manipulating people and pretending to have changed is not maturity, it’s being an asshole. He has a terrible father, that’s true, but Dillon managed to change. Nothing has ever truly been at stake for Liam. He’s been able to lie and manipulate others to get out of all the trouble he’s caused. He was given a second chance to play with the Under-13s and has continued to use those around him in order to seem, I don’t know. Big? Powerful? All he has done is made the Three Musketeers dislike him even more. He has done absolutely nothing to earn their trust. I could go on and on about Liam Simmonds, which I suppose proves he’s an interesting character (that’s more than I can say about some people *cough* Jamie *cough*). 

Eric learns that Aisha has feelings for him too. Yay! He also learns that Aisha is much smarter and more mature than him, choosing to step back and give him time to be with his friends. Yay? Freddie has been incredibly weird this season. I can’t tell if he genuinely liked Aisha as more than a friend, or if he thought he was supposed to, given how much Eric liked her. This entire storyline comprised of way too much unnecessary drama. Looking at Instagram comments, however, it seems that it was very popular among younger kids. I suppose I am a bit too old to be criticizing middle school relationship drama in a children’s show. Poor Alba was practically thrown to the dogs in favor of a petty love triangle. All of their problems were wrapped up so neatly, it felt a bit uncomfortable. Like they didn’t deserve this ending. 

I don’t know if it’s just me, but something about this episode seemed off. When comparing it to other episodes with similar premises, the lack of emotion and genuineness becomes obvious. Take episode 10, for example, there were many (and I mean many) subplots. It was a little all over the place. And yet, the end of the episode left me feeling bittersweet, intrigued, and wanting more. This episode didn’t do that. I am sick of Jamie’s bullshit and tired of this dumb love triangle. Thankfully, the latter is complete now. 

Onto Jamie’s storyline:

1) I told y’all Jetpac11 would be Jethro! These are some big brain hours.

2) This boy is supposed to be the TITLE character. His storyline is meant to be the most in depth, the most interesting, and, above all else, the most entertaining. It is none of those things. The stakes are supposed to be high, and they are, but they don’t feel like it? He supposedly lost his place at Hawkstone over a goddamn video game. Why don’t I feel anything except contempt? If not frustration at Jamie, then frustration at Ian, who I suppose I should be used to by now. Everyone says Jamie should know better than to trust him after all he’s done. That he should just listen to Mike. Obviously that’s true, but Ian was on his side, not the other way around. Ian enabled Jamie and allowed him to make a stupid decision, one that has huge consequences. Ian didn’t tell Jamie to keep playing for his own gain, well, kind of. He let Jamie keep playing because he though it would make him happy and regain his trust. It’s the same reason Mike lied to Hawkstone. Both adults displayed extremely poor judgement, Ian just far more so, as always. I must admit that I have zero interest in video games. I also have zero interest in soccer (or, rather, football). Yet this show keeps me interested in the matches and invested in the characters. They have failed at maintaining my interest in this video gaming storyline. Part of this could be because I find Jamie boring and repetitive, or maybe he simply seems that way due to the plethora of vastly more compelling side characters. All I have learned from this is that Jamie is a pretty terrible friend, a poor judge of character, and impulsive. These are all faults he has had since season 1, except he used to be a genuinely decent friend. He has grown more self-involved and one-sighted (and one-sided, as in one-dimensional, or you could take it literally, seeing as one leg is currently out of commission). I get that he was hit by a car and his leg is broken. He doesn’t see a future in soccer for himself anymore. Mike is right, though, he should be focused on getting better and being able to play again. I don’t even like Mike most of the time -- I honestly find him fairly annoying, although this may be due to the acting -- but he is the only sane one in the Johnson family right now. Both of Jamie’s parents are enabling him and Mike has too, though only for around an episode and a half. I am so happy this storyline will be resolved next week. I am sure we will still be left with a cliffhanger at the end, as with every season. 

Dillon also got a bit of screentime in this episode (wow, a whole twenty seconds!). I really do like the way the writers are portraying how conflicted he is. He is torn between living a lie or risking his future as a professional player. I understand why they introduced Elliot. He was Dillon’s first crush and I think he was necessary for Dillon to come to terms with his sexuality. Where they messed up with Elliot, however, is by entirely removing him from the show after he fulfilled his purpose of giving Dillon the strength to come out. Just as @mcustorm said, he was a plot device and it was out of character for him to out Dillon. I could probably write a whole essay about how dirty both Elliot and Kat were done. The only way using exclusively Ruby to further Dillon’s storyline would’ve worked was if they kept the whole “Ruby has a crush on Dillon” thing from season 4. Doing that would likely ruin their entire dynamic as best friends and make things awkward. If they had done that and made, say Harry or Michel his first crush, they wouldn’t need Elliot to be Dillon’s first real crush. Although, Dillon was only around 11 or 12, and most real crushes don’t hit until 13-14, at least in my experience. Also if they had ruined Dillon and Ruby’s dynamic, then Dillon would have no real support system. I can’t really see Ruby abandoning Dillon over this, though, even if she had an unrequited crush. 

Next week should wrap up both Jamie’s and Dillon’s storylines. It will also be the final episode of season 5! A lot to look forward to and a lot to be absolutely terrified of, not to mention the fact that season 6 production has been postponed for obvious reasons. 

TL;DR:

It’s the end of the Under-13s drama! And possibly the end of Aisha, knowing how JJ deals with its newly irrelevant characters.

Jamie is being stupid and probably lost his chances of getting into Hawkstone. Or maybe not, considering he’s the protagonist of a kid’s show. JJ does have a habit of dealing out real consequences, though, so who knows.

Dillon got... something? He’s feeling conflicted, which is entirely natural, especially at this stage in his coming out. 

Next week is the last episode! Stay tuned for more, I guess. Let me know if you guys enjoyed this type of proper analysis. 

#analysis #this ended up being incredibly long #seriously props to you guys if you made it all the way down here #i actually had a lot of fun writing this #i don't usually write properly on tumblr #it's still not the greatest #i'm not winning any awards for literary analysis #it's also 2 am #if there are any mistakes i'm sorry i'll correct them in the morning #or maybe not #why did i use contractions in this #i suppose it's not truly formal writing #whatever #yes i have a habit of using too many commas #im too lazy to fix the many run-on sentences #okay goodnight #retagging #jamie johnson #because it disappeared from the tags #im kind of uh high rn so im sorry if this doesnt make sense uhhh #kids dont listen to me

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I always think of you as Kristin Scott Thomas’ character Fiona in Four Weddings and a Funeral as a beautiful woman who is scarily clever and classy. So with my upcoming wedding (next year!) and especially wedding music I thought of you. I really would appreciate your advice on Mendelssohn or Wagner as they seem to be the traditional choices of music to play at a traditional church wedding. My fiancé isn’t bothered what music we play but I can’t decide. Please do help as I value your unvarnished truth.

Thank you for the flattering words which while well intentioned are nevertheless entirely misplaced.

Swiftly moving on, a sincere congratulations on your forthcoming wedding. I can only imagine how stressful it must be running around like a headless chicken trying to desperately organise everything. And desperate you certainly must be - perhaps even certifiably insane -  if you’re turning to me on Tumblr for advice!

I’m not married....yet ( oops! better get that caveat in before I am chastised by those who really know me)  but I am a wedding veteran - some would even say, a jaded one (thank you, mummy).

Every season there is a string of wedding invitations that I can’t turn down and I feel obligated to attend. While great fun, one wedding starts to blur into another especially when the champagne starts to copiously flow. I have my own thoughts on the good, the bad, and the tacky about wedding etiquette but I don’t want to disappear down that rabbit hole. Instead let’s talk about Mendelssohn and Wagner.

Both music pieces have traditionally struck a chord (pardon the pun) and have become a staple of traditional weddings since time immemorial.

Mendelssohn's ‘Wedding March’ was originally composed in 1842. He got there first.

Wagner's ‘Bridal Chorus’ came later in 1848. The ‘Bridal Chorus’ became a popularised piece to play at weddings around Europe after it was most memorably used as the processional at the wedding of Victoria, the Princess Royal to Prince Frederick William of Prussia in 1858. Nowadays - certainly in Britain and the US -  it is generally known as "Here Comes the Bride”.

I suppose the straight forward answer is that it doesn’t have to be Wagner vs. Mendelssohn. Why not both?  Wagner’s ‘Bridal Chorus’ can be used for the entrance processional of the bride walking down the aisle and the Mendelssohn ‘Wedding March’ for the recessional walk out of the church.

But you did say you wanted my ‘unvarnished truth’ so allow me the small luxury of an arm chair rant from the Coronavirus self-isolation of my Paris apartment. 

Of the two I would definitely ditch the Wagner piece. Please don’t misunderstood me. I am a huge fan of Wagner’s music - like any true Wagnerian I have taken more than one pilgrimage to Beyreuth - but in this case playing Wagner’s music would show a frightful ignorance of the meaning behind the ‘Bridal Chorus’ piece.  

I don’t know why more people haven’t picked up on this but I’ve always found it a terribly odd piece to play at a wedding especially as it originates from Wagner’s masterful opera, Lohengrin.

Wagner came upon the opera's inspiration around 1845 when he took interest in the legend of the Holy Grail through the poems of Wolfram von Eschenbach and the anonymous epic of Lohengrin. Composed by 1848, Lohengrin features "Bridal Chorus" as the prelude to a very short-lived, doomed marriage between Elsa and Lohengrin.

The famous ‘Bridal Chorus’ is lustily sung by women of the bridal party serenading Elsa to the bridal suite after the wedding in Act III. Elsa is not allowed to know her true knight’s true name and identity. But this is a romantic German opera and so of course Lohengrin is found out with dire consequences for all.  A sad Lohengrin ends up revealing that  he is in fact a knight of the Grail and son of King Parsifal, sent to protect an unjustly accused woman. The laws of the Holy Grail say that Knights of the Grail must remain anonymous. If their identity is revealed, they must return home. Lohengrin is lead back to the castle of the Holy Grail. Elsa is grief stricken at being left behind.  Poor Elsa (naturally) collapses and dies with a broken heart.

Charming.

To say it’s not the happiest of allusions of looking forward to a long life of wedded bliss would be an understatement.

However my objections against Wagner’s ‘Bridal Chorus’ goes beyond this. For one thing I find it rather too sombre - Oh dear God! Is marriage really like this?!

My main ire is that it overly used and therefore boring to listen to. And when one is bored the mind wanders.

In my case, without sounding malicious, my mind just drifts to whispering mischievous lyrics under my breath that go like, “here comes the bride, big fat and wide, here comes the groom, skinny as a broom.” Try as I might I can never get those words out of my silly mind whenever I hear the organ music playing “Here come’s the bride.” Not my finest hour.

Now Mendelssohn’s ‘Wedding March’ is different beast entirely. Beast being the operative word as we are dealing with Pagan deities.

Typically used in church wedding recessionals, the ‘Wedding March’ piece has sparked controversy due to its literary origins. The Prussian monarch Friedrich Wilhelm IV commissioned Mendelssohn to compose incidental music for many pieces that were based upon Greek mythology and tragedy in order to revive the genre of literature and performance. Among his commissions, in 1843 Mendelssohn composed a setting for William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream; the setting comprises twelve musical numbers and a finale. The plot of Shakespeare's play focuses on a pagan god and goddess and is filled with fairies, magic, and fantasy. Due to the piece's pagan, fantastic inspirations, some puritanical leaders and musicians - particularly in Roman Catholic churches - have found the piece to be inappropriate for a Christian religious ceremony. In its defence at least Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night's Dream was a comedy with a happy ending.

If you’re feeling traditional rather than puritanical then the joyous Mendelssohn ‘Wedding March’ might still be a great option either as a processional or recessional.

If you’re looking for options outside of either Wagner and Mendelssohn then it’s really a matter of exercising good taste alongside what suits the personal tone of your wedding.

Off the top of my head I keep coming back to Johann Sebastian Bach.

Bach’s many cantatas and fugues seem to tick all the boxes. In particular there is Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring (derived from the cantata Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben, "Heart and Mouth and Deed and Life”). There is also the Toccata and Fugue in D minor ‘Dorian’ BWV 538 and the Toccata and Fugue in F Major, BWV 540.  Arioso in A flat for solo piano from Cantata No. 156 "Ich steh`mit einem Fuss im Grabe is softly elegant. A particular favourite piece of mine is Weichet nur, betrübte Schatten, BWV 202, the ‘Wedding Cantata’. Of course many would point out that Bach’s Ave Maria would be perfect for a processional but I would think twice about that. As beautiful as the piece is it is about the Virgin Mary after all and you may invite unwanted speculation from your guests if you are (cough) chaste.

Trumpet Tune in D by Jeremiah Clarke is a little more festive. Or consider his more famous Trumpet Voluntary ‘The Prince of Denmark's March’.

Charles-Marie Widor  was a fine composer and his Toccata (from Symphony for Organ No. 5) is spiritually intense for traditional organ music.

Eugène Gigout's famous Grand Chœur Dialogué might appeal to you as well.

G.F. Handel’s Water Music Suite - Air has a graceful and calming tone. The Arrival of The Queen of Sheba (Solomon) HWV 67 is upbeat and was made for a processional.

Beethoven’s Für Elise is perfect to calm last minute panic attacks before you go up the aisle.

And how can one forget Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart?

The Serenade No. 13 for strings in G major, K. 525 or more commonly known as Eine kleine Nachtmusik KV. 525 - II. Romanze: Andante is a beautiful melody familiar to many and sets a soothing tone. Ave verum corpus, K.618 is profoundly spiritual and lifts your hearts up to the angels. ‘Alleluia’ from ‘Exsultate, jubilate’ is wonderful if you can get your hands on a competent soprano. If you are feeling more adventurous then the Spanish Wedding March from The Marriage of Figaro which might be to your taste. 

Elgar’s Salut d'Amour, Op. 12 is soft, inviting and makes one feel you’re in some 19th Century romance novel set at court.

Elgar finished the piece in July 1888, when he was romantically involved with Caroline Alice Roberts, and he called it Liebesgruss ('Love's Greeting') because of Miss Roberts' fluency in German. When he returned home to London on 22 September from a holiday at the house of his friend Dr. Charles Buck, in Settle, he presented it to her as an engagement present. The dedication was in French: à Carice. 'Carice' was a combination of his wife's names Caroline Alice, and was the name to be given to their daughter born two years later.

Edvard Grieg’s Wedding Day at Troldhauen, Op. 65, no. 6 is magnificently playful.

Jean-Joseph Mouret’s Rondeau from Sinfonie de Fanfares is a beautiful Baroque piece. What’s a wedding without trumpets that could be heard all the way into the heavens?

Gluck’s Dance of the Blessed Spirits from his Orfeo et Euridice can be an elegant choice to do a recessional. Perfect for sensitive souls.

Gabriel Fauré’s Pavane, Op. 50 is sublime. I can never get tired of listening to it. Would make a worthy piece as a processional.

I would also throw into the mix Gaetano Donizetti’s ‘Una furtiva lagrima’ (A furtive tear) is the romanza from Act II of his delightful opera L'elisir d'amore.

It is sung by Nemorino (a tenor) when it appears that the love potion he bought to win the heart of his dream lady, Adina, works. Nemorino is in love with Adina, but she is not interested in a relationship with an innocent, rustic man. To win her heart, Nemorino buys a love potion with all the money he has in his pocket. That love potion is actually a cheap red wine sold by a traveling quack doctor, but when he sees Adina weeping, he knows that she has fallen in love with him, and he is sure that the "elixir" has worked. It may not fit your idea of a processional but I would try and use it some where in your wedding - perhaps at the reception.

I feel guilty about trashing on Wagner and Mendelssohn so I will leave you with two final thoughts. Reconsider Wagner’s opera Lohengrin. Forget the Bridal Chorus but instead listen to the chorus ‘Gesegnet soll sie schreiten’ in Act II. The various horns give this chorus a dreamlike quality and you feel like you are floating on air. Mendelssohn’s On Wings of Song is a powerful and poignant piano piece and quite suitable to play as your guests away your arrival in church.

I am sure there are other great classical music pieces that I have neglected to mention but others reading this might give their thoughts in the comments below.

If knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit, then wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad. So give careful and considered thought to what music you throw together into the mix as your church wedding processional and recessional.

Congratulations again and I hope it’s a special day for both of you and your families and friends.

Thanks for your question.

#question #wedding #music #wedding music #classical #tradition #church wedding #processional #recessional #personal #bio

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

February 15, 2021

Heather Cox Richardson

Monday federal holidays generally mean that not much gets done. Today was a bit of an exception, since we are dealing with the fallout from the Senate’s refusal to convict former president Trump for the January 6 insurrection.

For the Republicans, that acquittal simply makes the split in the party worse. First of all, it puts the Republicans at odds with the majority of Americans. According to a new ABC/Ipsos poll, 58% of us think Trump should have been convicted, and more than three-quarters of us—77%-- think the senators’ votes reflected partisanship rather than the facts.

But Republicans disagree. Trump packed state Republican positions with his supporters because he was afraid he would face primary challengers in 2020, and those loyalists are now defending him. State Republican parties have censured a number of the House Republicans who voted to impeach Trump; of the seven Republican senators who voted to convict, Bill Cassidy (R-LA) and Richard Burr (R-NC) have already been censured, and a censure effort is underway against Susan Collins (R-ME), Ben Sasse (R-NE), and Pat Toomey (R-PA). According to a new Quinnipiac poll, 75% of Republicans want Trump to continue to lead the party.

But 21% don’t, and between 24% and 28% blame him for the January 6 riot.

That split means the Republican Party, which was already losing members over the insurrection, stands to lose even more of its members if it continues to defer to the former president. Already, the Democratic National Committee has prepared a video advertisement to circulate on digital platforms, highlighting Republicans leaving their party. It includes a clip from former Republican National Committee Chair Michael Steele saying that “when you’re losing Republican members and you’re left with QAnon and Proud Boys, you’ve got to reassess whether or not you are even close to being a viable party.” The video ends with Biden urging Americans to come together and to “help us unite America and build back better.”

For Democrats, the Senate trial put on display for the American public an impressive group. Representative Jamie Raskin (D-MD) gave the lead impeachment manager from Trump’s first Senate trial, Representative Adam Schiff (D-CA) a run for his money as a model for brains and morals. But Raskin was not alone. Delegate Stacey Plaskett (D-US Virgin Islands) and Representative Joseph Neguse (D-CO), relatively unknown outside of their home districts, got significant positive national attention during the trial, suddenly becoming household names. The entire Democratic team shone and indicated that the young Democrats have quite a deep bench of talent, especially in contrast to the younger Republicans, who seem to excel in media appearances more than in policy.

Democrats recognize that the Senate acquittal means there is considerable interest in an actual accounting of what happened in the insurrection. Today, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi announced that she will urge the House to establish an independent commission, like the one that investigated the 9/11 attacks, to study what led to the storming of the Capitol on January 6. Members of both parties have asked for such a commission.

The Senate trial also gave powerful proof of just how undemocratic the Senate has become. Voting rights journalist Ari Berman noted that the “57 senators who voted to convict Trump represent 76.7 MILLION more Americans than 43 senators who voted to acquit.”

Washington Post columnist E.J. Dionne noted that the adherence of all but seven senators to Trump “should end the absurd talk that there is a burden on President Biden to achieve a bipartisan nirvana in Washington. If most Republicans can’t even admit that what Trump did is worthy of impeachment, how can anyone imagine that they would be willing and trustworthy governing partners?”

Dionne added that the acquittal made an overwhelming case for getting rid of the filibuster, which in its current incarnation effectively means that no legislation can pass without support from 60 senators. Thanks to the 50-50 split in the Senate, getting to 60 means getting 10 Republican votes. This is impossible, Dionne says, because clearly “There are not 10 Republican Senate votes to be had on anything that really matters.”

Meanwhile, President Joe Biden is simply working around Republican lawmakers, starting with the $1.9 trillion coronavirus relief package. Republicans in Congress overwhelmingly stand against the bill, in part because it calls for $350 billion to provide aid to states and cities. But Republican governors and mayors are desperate for the assistance. Republican voters like it, too.

Last Friday, Biden invited governors and mayors from both parties to the White House to ask them what they needed most. The Republican mayor of Miami, Francis Suarez, told reporters that he had had more contact with Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris in the first weeks of their administration “than I had spoken to the prior administration in the entirety.”

Biden is about to hit the road to try to convince Senate Republicans to support the relief package, going directly to the people to sell his ideas.

The Democrats also have another trick to lay on the table to get Republican support. Today, Representative Rosa DeLauro (D-CT), the chair of the House Appropriations Committee, and Senator Patrick Leahy (D-VT), the chair of the Senate Appropriations Committee, announced they would back the return of a new version of so-called “earmarks,” more formally known as “member-directed spending,” in legislation.

These “Community-Focused Grants,” as the new lingo calls them, are funds that individual congress members can direct toward their districts. In the past, earmarks were made by lawmakers and were occasionally havens for corruption—which is what people remember—but even at their worst, they made up less than 1.1% of federal spending and tended to actually produce things that districts needed.

Democrats cleaned the system up before then-House Speaker John Boehner declared a moratorium on it in 2011. After the ban, the government still targeted federal money to get votes, but the power to make those calls shifted to the executive branch rather than Congress. For much federal spending, Congress appropriates the amounts but the executive branch decides where to spend it. A 2020 congressional study established that presidents use that money “to influence policy and support their preferred projects without receiving approval from Congress.” To that, we can add that a president targeted federal money to try to buy reelection.  

In the past, congressional earmarks were a key feature in bipartisanship: they gave reluctant lawmakers a reason to support legislation they might otherwise hesitate about. The new rules will likely be different than the old ones in that they apparently will be targeted to public entities that ask for a grant. They will provide a challenge for Republicans—who actually like these grants, normally—because they will undercut Republicans’ stance against appropriation bills. They might also swing some Republicans behind the coronavirus bill.

Biden demonstrated national unity yesterday when he issued a Federal Emergency Declaration for Texas in response to a request from Republican Governor Greg Abbott. Such a declaration frees up the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) and federal funds to provide help to the region, which is suffering from bitter cold temperatures that have shut down power and left residents without electricity in unheated homes—a dangerous and potentially deadly situation. Biden’s quick response recalls the way presidents have traditionally responded to state crises, and the governor of the state in which Trump supporters tried to run Biden’s campaign bus off the road acknowledged Biden’s response.

“I thank President Biden for quickly issuing a Federal Emergency Declaration for Texas as we continue to respond to severe winter weather conditions throughout the state,” Abbott’s press release stated.

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#political #Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #January 6 2021 #Biden Administration #bipartisan #insurrection #legislation

[thedeevirus]

NYGMOBBLEPOT FICLET: ‘Broken Looking Glass’

‘I have a suggestion for a ficlet. I would love to see something involving Jervis Tetch hypnotizing one of the two of them (or both, I'm not picky). It's a concept I haven't seen played with before, and if anyone could do it well, it's you’ 

Thank you for the lovely message @spoonsthatareominous This one’s for you :) Enjoy!

***

‘Greetings Edward!’

Ed closed the Iceberg Lounge’s door him, pocketing the key that Oswald had given him. He turned slowly, recognising the cheery voice that had saluted him but completely baffled as to the reason for its presence.

‘Tetch?’ he asked, plastering on a fake smile.

It was difficult to do. Oswald and he had both agreed to maintain a skeleton staff until the Lounge opening the next night. Ten people seemed like more when their corpses were propped up on chairs as grisly party guests. Blood seeped from beneath ghastly rabbit masks that Tetch appeared to have stapled to their faces. Ed’s forensically trained eye told him none of them had put up a fight. He tried to push the thoughts of them shrieking silently inside their own hypnotised heads as Tetch had dressed them for the occasion and focused on Oswald, who was still very much alive. He sat to Tetch’s right, dull eyed and still as stone. He held a tea cup in his hand complete with saucer, his pose stiff and unnatural. Tetch had rearranged nearly every table in the Lounge to form one long table replete with teapots of all shapes and sizes and dishes full of cakes, cookies and pastries. The food had been raided from the Lounge’s kitchen but Ed was at a loss to explain the origin of the tea sets. Tetch must have supplied them himself. The large ice sculptures of penguins set into the walls that Oswald had commissioned to decorate the club from Victor Fries had been given hats of their own and the coloured spotlights designed to create a subdued blue light for the diners had been changed to multicoloured as they whirled dizzily. The mad tea party brought to life.

’Never fear! Penguin is under my command’, Tetch said, spreading his arms wide, ‘Welcome to my Winter Wonderland!’

‘I wasn’t expecting to see you’, Ed said politely, noting the loaded gun in Tetch’s hand.

‘And I had not expected you to be late’, Tetch said, wagging a finger in mock reproach, ‘Late! For such a very important date!’

‘And what important date would that be?’ Ed asked.

Tetch laughed as he placed a decidedly unhealthy amount of sugarcubes into a teacup. Ed watched with a mixture of disgust and unease. Arkham had not been kind to Tetch. He had always been jittery and disturbed but his fingers were shaking so badly the teacup was rattling on its saucer. His fingernails were torn and bloody outside his fingerless gloves. His soiled long coat seemed to have been borrowed from a homeless person and the ever present top hat looked as if it had been sat on more than once. His laugh was shrill and odd, compounded by his clenched jaw and dry, chapped lips. The only pristine elements of his appearance were an immaculate white card in the top hat’s band inscribed with ‘In this style 10/6’ in impeccable, looping calligraphy and a delicate, white rose set into his buttonhole.

‘Your unbirthday silly!’ Tetch said. Tea spilt over his fingers from the cup. Despite the obvious heat, Tetch didn’t even flinch. ‘I had prepared a party in Arkham complete with centrepiece but Jeremiah wrecked my plans by arranging your release’.

‘This is very thoughtful of you. But why here?’ Ed asked, accepting the teacup.

He made a show of blowing on the cup, pretending it was too hot to drink and set it on the table. He looked down at the unappetising white sludge floating on the liquid’s surface as the sugar dissolved while Tetch espoused his vision.

‘Because we will take revenge in this traitor’s lair. His death will tell all of Gotham to beware! I remember how Penguin treated you dearest friend. What better gift could I give you than his head? Tonight, your stalemate ends and Riddler and Hatter will ascend!’

Ed walked around the table and waved a hand in front of Oswald. Oswald didn’t blink.

‘How did you get close enough to hypnotise him?’ Ed asked, feigning admiration.

Tetch giggled like a child and produced a greeting card from inside his coat like a magician producing a rabbit. Ed was baffled at the continued contrast between Tetch’s clothes and his discerning taste in stationary. Like the card in his hat, the card was white and embossed with silver etched flowers. Ed took it and read the contents.

‘A fake missive from yours truly insulting him rudely’, Tetch said in a loud stage whisper, ‘A plan perfect in its simplicity! He wanted to kill you badly he didn’t doubt your signature’s authenticity!’

Ed saw that Tetch had indeed forged his signature at the end of a litany of petty insults about Oswald’s appearance. Ed could see why they had ignited Oswald’s infamously short temper but he was insulted that Oswald could have thought such childish slights could have come from him. No doubt he had raged at Ed’s sudden verbal savagery and hastened to the meeting point outlined in the card. Ed was forced to begrudgingly admire Tetch’s plan as well as how perfectly his signature had been duplicated.

‘You seem to have a talent of gaining his attention’, Tetch sighed, stroking Oswald’s head like a docile pet, ‘I almost envy the strength of your connection’.

He snatched the monocle from Oswald’s eye. Oswald didn’t even blink. Tetch held it up to the light before dunking it into a cup of tea three times.

‘Why he ever thought you could be friends was bizarre’, Tetch said airily, using Oswald’s own pocket square to dry the monocle, ‘You two could never be true friends…like we are’.

There was a sharp noise which made Tetch blink. His grip had suddenly tightened causing the monocle to crack in half. Tetch looked down at it then flicked the handkerchief, unconcernedly scattering the former monocle’s pieces onto the floor. Ed slid his fingers along the seam of the card and imagined a knife sliding across Tetch’s neck.

‘Will he do anything you say?’ Ed asked, careful to keep his tone light as he returned the card to Tetch.

‘Ooh is that a suggestion I hear?’ Tetch beamed, ‘I’m all ears!’

Ed walked to a nearby music system and clicked a button. A smooth waltz began to play over the lounge’s speakers.

‘What’s a tea party without music?’ Ed smirked.

Ed held a hand out to Oswald, inviting him to dance. Jervis tittered at the conceit and waved a hand permissively. Oswald rose slowly and took Ed’s hand. Ed led him to the dancefloor as Jervis began to waltz with a teapot. Ed began to dance with Oswald. He was careful to keep his back to Tetch; his height would obscure Oswald and Tetch would be unable to see him speaking.

‘Oswald, listen to me’, Ed said, ‘You’ve been hypnotised-‘

He stifled a gasp as Oswald interrupted.

‘No I haven’t. Keep your voice down’.

‘How do I know you’re not just saying that?’

‘Because does that look like a man capable of long term planning?’ Oswald deadpanned.

Ed risked a glance at Tetch and saw that the hatter was not paying the least bit of attention to them. He seemed to be trying to balance a spoon on the tip of his nose. Ed conceded the point.

‘I don’t understand’, he asked, ‘How are you not hypnotised?’

‘If you don’t understand, then what chance do I have?’

‘Clean cup! Clean cup!’ Tetch yelled suddenly, ‘Move down, move down!’

‘Is it just me or has he gotten worse?’ Oswald asked, watching in confusion as Tetch hastily began to move the table settings one place down while muttering myriad apologies to invisible guests.

‘It’s not just you. They increased the ‘persona indoctrination therapy’ to keep him under control’, Ed explained, hating the treacherous touch of genuine sympathy in his voice, ‘Why they used the personality of the most famous literary madman of all time I will never know’.

‘Nice to see Arkham’s standards of care haven’t slipped’, Oswald observed drily.

‘Surprisingly, the treatment actually did something useful. Tetch needs eye contact to hypnotise people now. No more commanding anyone to jump off buildings over the radio’.

‘Still seems like a useful friend to have’.

Ed fought the urge to laugh at Oswald’s sulky tone. They were technically in a hostage situation and Oswald was choosing to focus on that?!

‘We weren’t friends’, Ed corrected, ‘Our association was a science experiment’.

‘He seems to think otherwise’.

‘He also thinks a dormouse is living in that teapot. I didn’t have the luxury of choosing my cellmate in Arkham’.

‘You think I did?’

‘I’m pretty sure yours didn’t gouge out a guard’s eye with a spoon when they confiscated the top hat he made out of newspaper and macaroni’.

‘I didn’t have a cellmate’.

‘You were alone?’

‘For my “own safety”. Or so they said. I thought about you a lot. It helped’.

‘I thought about you too. Sometimes, it was the only thing that kept me going’.

‘How did you even start a conversation with him?’

‘I wanted to learn more about his hypnotism so I indulged in his psychosis and wordplay to get him to open up’.

‘Did you learn how to resist it?’

‘Turns out there’s no need. Do you remember the chip in my brain?’

‘I thought Lucius Fox removed it?’

‘He had to leave the casing to avoid permanent damage. It made the metal detectors in Arkham go nuts all the time. I think it acts as a barrier to whatever signal Tetch is sending out’.

‘My eye. He doesn’t know it’s fake’.

‘Credible theory’.

‘A theory’s one thing’, Oswald said, eyes darting towards the music system as the music began to die away, ‘We need a plan’.

Tetch applauded as the song ended. Ed and Oswald broke away from each other, Oswald’s face resuming its mask of blank indifference.

‘And now a game!’ Tetch said, clapping his hands, ‘We must have a game!’

He indicated the chairs to his right and left as he settled into the chair at the top of the table. Ed took the chair to the left and Oswald assumed the seat opposite him.

‘What say you to a riddle or two?’ Jervis asked Ed eagerly.

He didn’t wait for Ed’s affirmative reply before turning his attention towards Oswald. Ed admired Oswald’s restraint at Tetch’s physical familiarity. Oswald hated to be touched and Tetch was leaning on his shoulder as hard as a drunk struggling to stay upright.

‘In our cell, we did so while away the hours exerting our deductive powers’, Tetch reminisced, ‘The perfect game to keep us sane! When you left I missed that fun the most’.

Tetch’s face darkened. His smile grew brittle as his lips drew back, the corner of his mouth twitching. His fingers adjusted on the grip of the gun. Ed knew that look. Tetch was looking at the gun like an addict looking at a needle. Ed tensed but then the moment passed and Tetch was his cheery, manic self once more.

‘No matter! As usual, first turn goes to the host!’

Ed nodded obligingly.

‘How is a raven like a writing desk?’ Tetch asked, rubbing his hands.

‘Because Edgar Allen Poe wrote on both’, Ed replied without missing a beat.

He knew Tetch would never accept the answer even thought it was obviously the most logical solution to the riddle. Tetch physically couldn’t.

‘Oh my, I’m sorry but that is the wrong solution’, Tetch said sadly but then brightened, ‘Now then, shall we proceed with Penguin’s execution?’

Ed placed a hand on the gun, keeping his grip light so as not to arouse Tetch’s suspicions. He would have to play things smart as always.

‘Wait! Don’t I get a turn?’

‘Now Edward, there’ll be time later for fun. Aren’t you keen to make a dodo out of this penguin?’

‘But, what’s the answer?’

‘Beg your pardon?’

‘You and I both know there is no official answer to that riddle’.

‘Yes there is!’

‘Then what is it?’

Tetch looked lost. The silence dragged. Tetch’s fingers opened and closed reflexively like dying spiders.

‘You can’t think of anything that’s not in that book, can you?’ Ed asked softly.

‘Book?’ Tetch asked, a shaking hand straying to his hat as he stared at his reflection in a metallic kettle.

‘The made up story that they jammed into your head’.

Ed swallowed hard at Oswald’s interjection. His patience with the charade had reached its limit. Tetch’s head swivelled slowly, his eyes widening at Oswald’s cutting words.

‘Wind up words so they could make you tick the way they wanted you to. Reshape you into a predictable madman. The book that made you a cliché Tetch’.

‘Silence!’ Tetch yelled, covering his ears, ‘How dare you speak out of turn?! How?! Look into my eyes!’

‘Good. I have your full attention’, Oswald said, clasping his hands on the table, ‘Here’s a riddle for you Tetch. Why would Ed ever associate with a twisted, diseased maniac like you? If the automatic answer in your head isn’t ‘he wouldn’t’, then you’re more deluded than I thought’.

Ed carefully watched the gun as Tetch flailed. If he could just make one quick move he could disarm him. If Tetch would just hold still!

‘Lies slip from your slithey lips!’ Tetch screamed, ‘What do you know about our relationship?! You only know how to lie and betray and abuse others’ trust! Your pathetic manipulations fill us with disgust!’

Ed recognised Oswald’s smug look. He was about to merrily tap dance on Tetch’s jangled nerves. It was a gamble and Ed knew Oswald knew it. But Oswald had obviously worked up an immunity to the psychological experience of being threatened with a gun.

‘Your lack of perception is becoming aggravating’, Oswald pronounced metrically, pausing slightly before continuing, ’I’m not the one manipulating’.

Ed stifled an amused grin as Tetch’s eye twitched incredulously, riled by Oswald throwing his peculiar compulsive speech pattern back at him.

‘Ed didn’t befriend you out of kindness or concern’, Oswald continued, ‘He only talked to you because of what he could learn’.

Tetch’s gritted teeth morphed into a grin as he shook his head. He scratched his temple idly with the barrel of the gun.

‘You’re trying to tear our friendship apart’, he said knowingly, ‘Nice try Penguin but you’re not that smart. Only I am on Edward’s equal. Equally cunning, clever and cerebral. You think I’ll listen to his arch enemy when he and I are on the same page mentally?!’

‘The page of what book exactly?’ Oswald taunted.

Ed could see Oswald had pushed too far by how still Tetch became. His eyes narrowed, their nervous twitch obliterated as he stared Oswald down. All wistfulness was gone from Tetch’s voice. It now belonged to a man in utter, terrifying control of a too long suppressed craving for violence. Quiet and detached. The voice of a hunter finally dispatching long hunted prey.

‘I have another riddle for you Edward’, Tetch said, raising the gun, ‘What’s black and white and red all over?’

The gun drifted until it was aimed squarely at Oswald’s chest. There was a click as Tetch disengaged the safety.

‘You’, Oswald snarled.

The movement was so fast at first Ed wasn’t sure what had happened. Then he heard Jervis scream and the clatter of the gun as it fell to the floor. Jervis stared, wild eyed at the purloined knife Oswald had stabbed into his wrist then wrenched it free. He glared silently at Oswald for a moment, his shock overwhelmed by sheer, tranquil, fury at Oswald’s audacity. Then something finally snapped inside his mind and he leapt at Oswald howling like an animal. The table overturned with the force of Tetch’s lunge and Oswald’s chair toppled over. Oswald cried out as his injured knee was badly jarred from the impact. He tried to rise but his ankle failed him. Tetch crawled on top of him and held Oswald down, blood slipping down his glove as he raised the knife.

‘Off with your head!’ Tetch hissed through a savage grin, eyes feverishly bright.

Oswald saw the flash of the knife and his eyes closed reflexively as it plunged down. There was a gunshot and Oswald felt Tetch’s weight lighten. He opened his eyes and saw Tetch had fallen off him. Tetch lay on his side, one hand clutching his left shoulder. The white rose on his chest began to turn crimson as blood seeped through his jacket and his top hat rolled away. Oswald saw crude stitches interlacing across Tetch’s scalp, barely hidden by his wispy hair and was startled to feel a pang of sympathy as Tetch groaned in pain, curling into a foetal position.

Ed walked past him, throwing the gun away, far from Tetch’s reach. Tetch tried to reach for him but flinched at the pain as he tried to stretch.

Ed helped Oswald to his feet and held his face. His eyes were worried and questioning. Oswald smiled and patted his hand. The two embraced, squeezing each other tightly. After a few seconds Ed released him. Oswald adjusted his stance shakily and Ed passed him his walking cane from where it had been propped beside the table.

‘You lied to me’, Tetch whispered hoarsely, eyes glittering with tears of pain.

‘I said Oswald and I weren’t friends’, Ed said pointedly, ‘You made up your own story’.

He felt his tie tugged and suddenly found himself pulled into a deep, loving kiss. He relinquished control to Oswald willingly, letting and savouring his tongue ravishing his mouth. Tetch as an unwilling witness only incited Ed’s desire. The thought of Tetch’s assumptions being shattered in such a graphic way was immeasurably exciting to him. He loved how Oswald loved him without a single thought for how others might feel about it. After far too short a time, Oswald released him and turned his attention on Tetch. Ed knew Oswald had timed it perfectly; enough to make Ed long for more. Beg for more. Ed felt his spine tingle and cock pulse at Oswald’s proud bearing as he advanced on the helpless man.

Oswald stepped on Tetch’s hat, crushing it, as he idly tapped the head of his cane against his palm. The bird’s metal beak shone in the light. Ed wondered if Oswald was going to use the hidden blade in the cane. Oswald favoured knives. He liked intimacy. Oswald surveyed Tetch from on high, the cane akin to an executioner’s axe. Tetch’s eyes were wide, sweat beading on his brow, the realization of the depths of his mistake written all over his pallid face.

‘See? He didn’t lie’, Oswald said and knocked Tetch out with a single blow.

#nygmobblepot ficlet #nygmobblepot #edward nygma #Oswald Cobblepot #Jervis Tetch

[marielcreativenon-fiction]

GREGORIO,MARIEL

 AUTHOBIOGRAPHY Mei Joy Flamiano is the daughter of Melchora Flamiano and Joly Flamiano. She was born on June 2,1991 in the Sitio military, Bahay Toro Quezon City. She started her early education in Toro Hills Elementary education and graduated in Kindergarten as top of her class. She and her family then transferred to their hometown in Idio, Sebaste, Antique to cotinue her studies as well as her sibling Jomel Flamiano. She was a studious student and consistent honor student from grade 1 to grade 6. She is also constant participant in all extra curicular activities, particular in declamation and singing contest. She excelled in math and science and graduated valedictorian of her batch 2003. Her parents decided to let her study in a private school for her secondary education where she learned about leadership. She is still a consistent topnucher of her batch and always grabs the first place year after year. She studied in St. Blaise High School and during that time after grade 4, her mother went to Taiwan to help send them to school. Her grandmother is the one who took care of them during those times. She learned a lot I St. Blaise High School especially about leadership being the ten elected governor of SSG ( Supreme Student Government) she passed the UPCAT for BS fishermen in UP Ilo-ilo. After four years of learning at school, she graduated valedictorian of the batch 2007. Her mother went home for her to continue her tertiary education. She left her grandparents in their hometown and she was very saddened because she was developed close relationship to her grandmother especially. She wanted to be a teacher or an engineer but her parents want her to be a nurse. She then followed her parents dream for her. She tried to enroll in UP Manila but was not accepted due to late enrollment. She enrolled in Our lady of Fatima University which is the top producers of nurses that time. Her mother went back to Taiwan and she was left with her aunt. She pursued her nursing studies even though it was not her first choice. She came to love nursing as she grew in the field. She got a scholarship due to her valedictorian certificate in High School. She was able to maintain her scholarship all throughout 4 years in nursing and even with difficulties in areas like RLE due to her fear and hesitancy to perform nursing procedures, she graduated with latin honor as Magna Cum Laude. Not long after she also passed the nursing board exam, and got the tenth place over all examine in the Philippines.

BIOGRAPHY WORDS My name is Mariel Gregorio and I was born on the 30th of September 30,2001 in Idio, Sebaste, Antique. My parents were Joel Gregorio and Maricel Gregorio, and I have two oldest brother and they are Joemar Gregorio and Brian Gregorio. My teenage life was never been easy, when I was 12 years old I’m with my family we are living in a simple house. With three rooms and every room have it own comfort room, one for my parents and one room for my brothers, I have my own room that makes me comfortable, very colorful room with pink bed and has a blue curtain. I have my closet in the left side and many things like guitar and ukulele. In the left side is my cute table with a flower base planted with my favorite flower witch is sun flower. When I open my window you will see a very wide planting area, planted yellowish rice and it smells like fresh greeny leaves. Perfect room didn’t it ? But when I was 17 years old too I’m feeling sad and angry for myself. Because my mama have a favorite child and guess what it’s my  brother Brian his nickname is Yanyan, his skinny, moreno, have a black hair and cute eyes, his hobby is playing basketball, playing guitar he is very sporty person and that’s why I love my brother. He is very supportive to me, but I’m feeling jealous to him. Mama always buying him his a favorite jag and shirt and also his favorite food which is siomai. One day while I’m playing guitar with my friends Jj and Kulot in the sala. I see how my mama pack a lunch for my brother and fix his shirt in his neck and it’s get me jealous. My mama ? She never buy me my favorite shirts, foods and shorts ever. My Mommy do, Mommy is my auntie she is an older sister of my Papa, I love her she making me feel like her own daughter buy buying me my favorite things and by giving me my weekly allowance.I never tell anyone about I’m feeling with my brother except Mommy. She gave me advice like “ Beng don’t get jealous you’re hurting your self your worth of everything so work for that, then one day your mother gonna see your worth” and that words make me a strong and independent woman.

Self-Obituary Melecio “Mileng” Gregorio, age 77, died peacefully on December 26, 2013 in a hospital bed at their hometown Antique, after a courageous battle with different body complications. His passing left his beloved wife Angelina in the care of his 5 grown-up children. Melecio was born on January 6, 1936, and raised in Antique. He focused his life making a living for his 5 children and numerous grandchildren through farming and by serving his townsmen through “Hilot” or massage to treat muscle pain or dislocated joints/bones. Through his skills and passion, he touched many lives and left a legacy not just to his fellow townsmen but for all the people from other cities who sought for his healing. To express condolences, his wake is at their residence in Idio, Sebaste, Antique. Family and friends are also invited to attend a Celebration of Life gathering and burial on January 1, 2014 at Sebaste, Cemetery.

TRAVELOGUE Baguio City, Philippines Baguio City has a low temperature which causes the cold weather. There are deferent kind of crops that can only survive I that kin d of weather like strawberry, lettuce, cabbage, carrots and etc. The livelihood of the people there is wood crafting, paintings, weaving, producing soya products/ jams and growing vegetations. Aside from tourist spots, Baguio also offers zip line, biking and staycation or the family. The first destination that we visited is the strawberry farm. I experience how to pick strawberries and lettuce, it is also a good spot for picture taking. I realize that growing crops like strawberry and lettuce needs delicate care to maintain it’s quality. The second destination that we visited is the Bell House. We entered the abandoned Bell House that has antique furniture and belongings that were left untouched. Some of it is the piano, big mirror and warrior’s armor that has personified notes like “Don’t touch me”, “Don’t sit on me”. There is a graveyard near the Bell House wherein you can bury negative vibes/mindset that you have by reading the noting engraved on the gravestones. The last place that we visited is a place for resting and chilling. The place enables the family to have small talks, get together and reflect. The cold weather help me to unwind take a break from my problems and be free from stressful city life. In addition to my Baguio experience I have learn to be thrifty and be mindful of the things that money should me spent on. It maid me realize that earning money is not a joke, by witnessing how hard it is to work just to earn a living.

Literary Journalism It’s like a crystal glass shattered n pieces A glass that you hold tight but still slipped trough your fingers It’s like an ounce of hope washed away by your tears Where every drop of it, you took years to obtain It’s like feeling the rain after the decades of drought And then suddenly ceases when it touches the ground It’s like a little baby that you cared so much But then leaves you alone when he starts to grow up   It’s like a sharp knife that cuts through your vein It cuts deep, bleeds and causes you pain It’s like a beautiful butterfly that made you so happy But you have to  let go because she needs to be free.

ISSUE: ABS-CBN’s FRANCHISE RENEWAL The Philippine government moved Monday to end the franchise of the country’s leading broadcast network, the latest push by the administration of President Rodrigo Duterte against media outlets that have been critical of his leadership. The Philippine solicitor general, Jose Calida, lodged a complaint with the country’s highest court, accusing ABS-CBN Corp. and its subsidiary, ABS-CBN Convergence, of violating the operating franchise it was granted by Congress, which is set to expire in March. The move comes despite the fact that the House of Representatives has yet to start deliberating several bills supporting the renewal of the franchise. It was not clear how Mr. Calida’s petition would affect that legislation. “We want to put an end to what we discovered to be highly abusive practice of ABS-CBN benefiting a greedy few at the expense of millions of its loyal subscribers,” Mr. Calida said in a statement announcing the move. “These practices have gone unnoticed or were disregarded for years.” But critics of Mr. Duterte say he is on the warpath against media entities that have questioned his drug war, which has drawn international condemnation. ABS-CBN, along with the Filipino online news site Rappler, have been at the forefront of critical reporting about the antidrug campaign, which has left nearly 6,000 people dead since Mr. Duterte took office in 2016. Mr. Calida said the government will prove that ABS-CBN has been broadcasting for a fee, “which is beyond the scope of its legislative franchise.” He also accused the company of hiding behind what he said was an “elaborately crafted corporate veil” by allowing foreign investors to take part in its ownership. He stressed that ABS-CBN “abused the privilege granted by the state” when it introduced a pay-per-view channel without approval by the government’s telecommunications commission. As he has with ABS-CBN, Mr. Duterte has personally gone after Rappler, arguing that it was partly owned by foreign investors. The attempt to shut down Rappler, however, appears to have fizzled after the news site’s foreign investors transferred their shares to their Filipino partners. The National Union of Journalists of the Philippines assailed the move against the network. “This proves without a doubt that this government is hell bent on using all its powers to shut down the broadcasting network,” the union said. “We must not allow the vindictiveness of one man, no matter how powerful, to run roughshod over the constitutionally guaranteed freedoms of the press and of expression, and the people’s right to know.” Mr. Duterte has had particularly tense relations with the media. He and his aides have attacked The New York Times and The Washington Post, and several court cases are pending against Rappler’s chief executive, Maria Ressa. While the Philippine Constitution specifically calls for the separation of powers between the legislative and executive branches, Mr. Duterte has de facto control over the Senate and the House of Representatives through his allies. If the government does succeed in revoking the network’s franchise, ABS-CBN could still most likely operate in some “legal gray zone,” perhaps over the internet, so this would not likely be a death knell for the company, Mr. Heydarian said. “I don’t see any editorial compromise on the part of the ABS-CBN, which is very reassuring in itself,” Mr. Heydarian said. He said that Mr. Duterte appears to have taken from the playbook of President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia, who has also been accused of curtailing freedom of the press. “There are just elements of Putinism here,” Mr. Heydarian said. “We can see some Putin-like crackdown on the independent media, which was part of the Russian strongman’s strategy of consolidating power.” MY OPINION: I think that this news really affects the entire nation because Filipinos are very much influenced by television networks especially ABS CBN because this is the giant network that governs that current media platform in the Philippines. As you can read on this news, this is very one-sided. They are exposing that the President wanted to close  and end the franchise of ABS CN because of their stand on the President’s war against drug. And how they deliberately criticize the government on its plans to implement the law. However, the news doesn’t expose the main reason why the network should be closed. Is there really an abuse of power? Is there really a violation of the right and privileges provided to the network? Does the network really an abusive practice that only benefits  the greedy few  at the expense of the networks’ loyal subscriber? I guess these issues need to be addressed as well and should give people transparency. Personally, I like ABS-CBN most specifically on the entertainment sector. They really provide outstanding and very entertaining programs that most of the Filipinos really like but  I have also observed that in the news reporting

Eyes People are unique individuals. Each on of us has characteristics that are different from one another and those characteristics make us stand out. As people as well, we can describe these characteristics  by using our senses. Most of the time we can already imagine and picture out someone from one’s description of his/her qualities. Today I will describe and cousin and will introduce  her to you by describing her and her qualities, and her features. Before anything else, I would just like to let you know that she is one of a kind not only because of her looks but most importantly, because of her personality. I like her because she is very passionate in whatever she does. She also inspires others, very independent and very confident in her abilities. There are so much to be told about her but in this article, I would focus more on her features and what really stands out from her facial feature. I will also let your mind wander as I describe her to you so you can picture her out. She has a very cute face, cute in a sense that I always want to squeeze her cheeks. She has a high cheek bone and a very contagious smile. Whenever she smiles, it hides her eyes and she’s just so cute to look at. She has white straight teeth that adds to the beauty of her smile. For me, the most beautiful part of her face are her eyes. They are almond- shaped. You can easily notice her eyes and when you look at her face that is the feature that is eye-catching.  She has long eyes. The length from inner canthus to outer canthus is much longer than the average person’s eye. But it enhances her look. It doesn’t look awkward  at all. She has big eyes, the one that makes most of the Asians jealous. Asians are known for having small pointed eyes, and therefore most of us wanted to have big eyes because it just looks like extraordinary. Big eyes enhance other facial features as well. Most Asians undergo plastic surgery just to have bigger eyes or use make up just to make eyes bigger. For her, it is a natural. She has mono-lidded eyes.  A monolid is an eyelid shape that doesn't have a crease. An eye that does have a crease is known as a double eyelid. Monolids are beautiful and special. And of course, I will never forget about her long thick lashes. Those lashes no longer need to be curled or be enhanced by a mascara. The one that you will always notice even if you’re a bit far. Those lashes make her eyes more expressive. I guess I have given most of the things that I like about her and emphasized my most favorite facial feature of hers. I hope that you were able to picture out her face by my description. Those characteristics make her unique. Everyone of us is unique. We also have our own favorite facial feature and beauty comes in different structure sized  and features. What’s most important is that we appreciate and love what we have  and also appreciate others as well.

Braver Love is about receiving and giving something on someone. Love can make you strong and weak at the same time, by loving someone is to giving and receiving something. Giving Isn’t easy but it makes you easier when it’s for someone you love, when you fall in love on someone it’s making you brave. Brave of having a commitment, brave on having a responsibility and when you are that kind of brave ? You deserve someone braved too, brave to catch you to hold your hands in front of more people and brave to fight all battles with you, that someone you can talk all of your rants in life. Love is also a truth, being truth of everything that on someone by telling and showing all nothing but a truth. Being in love for me is being safe, being in love is being embrace by a man/woman love, by spoiling her/him your love by giving them your trust and care. For me, love is like a color violet it maybe hurt your eye because it’s too dark but It’s a violet because of how a love shine. Shining by having a very lovable color and a very strong and darker color. Love is like a crystal glass shattered in a pieces, a glass that you hold tight but still slipped through your fingers. It’s like an ounce of hope washed away by your tears where every drop of it, you took years to obtain its like feeling the rain after decades of drought and then suddenly ceases it touches the ground. It’s like little baby that cared too much but then leave you alone when she starts to grow up, that is love.

UNSAFE Unsafe because she didn’t feel the same us before how they love and care for each part of her family. By having a small problems and getting mad for each other. For me isn’t bad for not being part of a family when you can live without them too, I believe that one day all of them will come and asks for your held, come and seek for your help. But now, let them ignore and criticize you, let them compare you to others. Just be true of what you feel, because for now this is their time and tomorrow is yours. Lift yourself up and believe I yourself because if you’re not? Who will, you can’t when they can. Because when the time that you can they can’t and strive for your dreams, because the easier the smallest thing and the biggest is the hardest. Be and do hard today tomorrow will be your easy part of life. But still your family is still your family don’t get mad at them, just let them see how good their daughter is. For now, study hard and it’s for them too. If they never support you, support yourself because you can. Open your wings and fly high but don’t forget on where you going from and now, know you limitations you’re still discovering yourself but this time with your own. Family problem isn’t a hindrance to success your success, because you can if you want.

EVERY DAY In the movie every day it show their on what true love it is. It has been show that a true love is being sacrificing someone you love. It is a movie of a young man who waking up in different bed and body every day and he is getting in love in a girl. Having a situation of a young man is a hard situation, first he don’t know how to explain his situation. Could you explain how you waking up in the morning in different body, personality and gender ? But slowly he  explain how he was born in this world and he slowly in love in the girl too. To the point that he need to become a gay just to stalk and just to talk to the girl that he feeling in love with. In the middle of the movie the girl is slowly getting in love of him too, the girl being curious of a man personality. she always do searching a man’s account and seeing a different pictures but the same spirit. She don’t know what’s her love will be tomorrow, if a girl or a boy or maybe a lesbian and boyish. But still she felt in love of that personality, that spirit who woke up in different body every day. But spirit on his own he know that he is a boy, who needs a girl to love and understand him. But the sense of why his waking up in the different body is to solve a problem that a body’s his waking up with every day. He solved a life of a lady that have a suicidal thought, he also waking up in his girlfriend body and making a conversation to his girlfriend father. That movie really touch my heart because in the end a spirit of a man is need to go in the U.S just to have his love girlfriend free and for her to be found what’s really he is. His girlfriend let him to go and to let herself to have a the same man every day. It’s a beautiful story of love, a story of sacrificing someone you love.

BIG GIRL Throughout my 18 years of existence in this world I’ve learned many things on my own self and experiences. But one thing really hit me hard and I really learned as I grow up is how to become independent standing on my own is my greatest achievements in my life. Not because I am independent I don’t sick help from my parents or eldest. It’s just that I don’t easily seek help for my small problems or small things. I learned not to be so independent on my parents if I know that I could do things on my own. When I entered grade XII I have to live with my auntie, she is the oldest sister of my father so I have to leave my hometown Idio, Sebaste, Antique just to seek more opportunity here on the City of Imus. That day I knew that I have to live my life not being used to have my parents by my side. At first I really made a big adjustment not just on my surroundings but also waking up everyday I can’t longer see my parents early in the morning helping me do my stuffs as I will go to school. I do really appreciate my mama and papa but I want to stand in my own too, I want to discover new things without them because I believe in the saying “There is no permanent in the world except changes’’. So I need to stand in my own without them and live a life without them too

[diveronarpg]

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

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Kylie

Age | 25

Preferred Pronouns | she/her

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

Timezone | mst

IN CHARACTER

Character | Nick Bottom / Nikolai Borisov

What drew you to this character? |

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

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

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

LOOK WHO’S DIGGING THEIR OWN GRAVE

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

ACTING OUT ALL THEIR FEARS

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

THIS IS HOW IT FEELS TO TAKE A FALL

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

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

IN DEPTH

What is your favorite place in Verona?

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

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

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

What does your typical day look like?

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

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

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

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

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

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

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

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

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

EXTRAS

pinterest board x

#accepted: nick bottom #accepted

[isadorcs]

╰☆╮ LANA CONDOR ─ ISADORA ROSS identifies as  DEMI-FEMALE and uses SHE/THEY pronouns. they’re a DANCER, ARTIST, & REALITY COMP STAR, and they’re only TWENTY-TWO ! they’re said to be +PASSIONATE, but also -DARING. i guess that’s why they’re known as THE UNEXPECTED in the tabloids.

death tw, car accident tw, general thievery ? 

like this post to plot w her and i’ll message u !!!!!!! 

so i know i gave a bit about her in the poll but i wound up kind of combining her and evangeline bc i could so ??? here’s an updated isadora info 

B A C K S T O R Y

isadora ross was adopted at birth by nicholas and aria ross.  they brought her into their home and spoiled her rotten as best they could.  isadora never wanted for anything in her early years.  

at the age of six her mother died suddenly of an undiagnosed tumor.  

nicholas didn’t know what to do and wound up bringing in aria’s mother, francine, into their home to help him care for young isadora.  

isadora never liked her grandmother, her rules were too strict for a young and wild child like isadora.  and she hated being cooped up so often.  

nicholas threw himself into his work and spent fewer and fewer hours at home.  by the time isadora was twelve her father died in a car accident from falling asleep behind the wheel.  

isadora was left completely in the care of francine and the pair did not get along.  francine was not accepting of isadora claiming to feel different and was not pleased when her granddaughter started calling herself “demi-female” and using different pronouns.  

she had been dancing since she was three years old, focusing mainly on ballet & tap.  

at the age of fourteen, isadora ran away from home after a fight with her grandmother.  she took only a handful of things, including her grandmother’s credit card and ran off to europe, ditching the credit card after landing in the paris airport.  

isadora began working as a street painter, making enough to maintain a room in an apartment of an older woman.  they would also cook and clean for the woman who couldn’t do much for herself.  

one day as they were painting isadora was commissioned to paint something for someone and that’s how it was discovered that she could copy something simply by memory.  

a thief found her work and offered isadora a large sum of money to paint five copies of one painting.  which she did, because she needed the money.  

isadora soon became a part of a criminal crew as a forger and thief.  they were small enough to get in and out of places usually undetected, and their forgeries were good enough to pass as real works until they were inspected by a professional.  

the crew got caught when isadora was eighteen, but isadora managed to get away and go back to america.  they are wanted in 5 countries under the alias “the ballerina”  but no one ever got close enough when they were making swaps to get a photograph so no one knows it was her.  

coming back to the states, isadora bought an apartment in manhattan and began working as a maid in a hotel, careful to hide her wealth in other places so no one knew how much she was really worth.  

at nineteen they gave birth to a son, adrian.  it’s rumored that he’s the son of someone she knew in europe, but isadora never comments on that subject farther.  in fact, they keep their son out of instagram posts and social media entirely. ��

last year isadora sent in audition tapes for both survivor and big brother and was selected for the big brother show.  they were pretty unknown and a silent person on the show.  no one expected them to win.  but they were behind some of the biggest blindsides, through casually mentioning names and things they’d overheard.  no one realized it was isadora behind it until they were evicted and watched back, or were in the jury house with others.  

they won the show with losing only 2 of the jury members votes, one of which was because it was a showmance voting for their other half.  

with winning a reality competition under their belt, isadora returned back to the city to her son and began working on other projects.  they’ve been a dancer in a broadway show, an artist working on an art show, and 

they’ve opened up a “big brother/survivor/amazing race” training camp. where you sign up for either a 3 or 6 week course for one of the shows and you’re tested to your abilities for different competitions and social games.  

they are doing their best to not be doing too much art lately.  if anyone sees their paintings its possible that they could be caught.  

it’s rumoured that she will be going on survivor this upcoming season but she has yet to comment.  

P E R S O N A L I T Y

isadora is a kind person, always wanting to help others out.  

one of the big things from when they were working with the con crew was that they made sure to help people less fortunate with the money they would get from their jobs.  

they are very passionate in everything they do.  they give everything their all.  

isadora throws herself head first into everything they do, falling in love with everything.  

they are also kind of impulsive and daring, usually finding trouble in the oddest ways.  

“oh?? this store is closed ?? but someone needs food?? i can pick the lock it’s okay.”

this also leads them to be kind of controlling and bossy.  they want things to go their way.  

isadora also is good at putting on a facade.  they can con people, from previous work as a thief and grifter, which helped her on the competition.  

not really family oriented, except for her son.  isadora doesn’t talk much about her parents or her other family, but she will gush about her son all the time.  

C O N N E C T I O N S

a childhood friend, probably from school or maybe someone who she met on like aim ( throwing it bACK A BIT Y’ALL ) and kept in touch with them.  

a dancing buddy, someone who she has practiced with and they’re close maybe.

a best friend, likely someone she met when they ran away from home and moved to europe, wandering around on their own.  this person would know the majority of isadora’s past.  

exes, isadora didn’t date much, so there would be a couple of exes.  they usually had relationships lasting not too long, most of the time it ended amicably but we can always figure out some dramatic thing too. 

pen pals, someone who izzie had a writing relationship with.  maybe set up through elementary school programs or a friend of the family, it would be someone who they’ve kept in touch with for all these years.  

close friends 

ride or die

past hookups

neighbor(s) / maybe a roommate or smthn ?

ex best friend

enemies 

#excessintro #❏−−− a wild hope appears ツ