#I was gonna color in more but the art wasn’t really art-ing today

[ava-ships]

Èlodie and Rouxls!

(Reblogs are encouraged, pr0ship/c0mship DNI)

#I was gonna color in more but the art wasn’t really art-ing today #ava’s art #ship: casse tête de diamant #s/i: èlodie #self shipping #self ship #deltarune #rouxls kaard #self insert #deltarune self ship #oc x canon

[iwantitiwriteit]

Slow Burn: Act I - Part 6

The Museum

Pairing: Chris Evans x Famous!Reader

Summary: You and Chris enjoy a day at the museum as the first act of your newfound clean slate.

Warnings: pure Fluff for once, the usual silly antics

Notes: Back to our regularly scheduled fanfic-ing. Hope y’all didn’t mid that mid-series break; I literally forgot how to write. But it was fun getting back in the groove of fluff! P.S. I miss museums. Read the previous part here and check this part’s moodboard + music.

Chris’ pace is quick as he walks the city sidewalk, evading puddles in his path. Sprinkling now, he doesn’t want to test his luck walking leisurely as he normally would. Normally, he’d take the time to gawk at the beauty and bustle of his city. But not today.

Today is a rainy Monday in Boston, perfect for your indoor date. Except, this is not a date. That’s what Chris told himself. That’s what he told his friend and brother… then himself again, especially now as a reminder to slow down his increasingly speeding heartbeat with each step. He’s only late for a friendly hang out with you, not for a date. 

“Chris! Slow down!” Chris’ mother yelled from behind him. Oh yeah, and Ma. He stopped momentarily for Lisa to catch up. With a smile, he offered his mother his arm to take, and they walked together at a more acceptable pace to their destination. “Well somebody’s eager to see a certain somebody else,” Lisa teased, her son’s nervous and excited energy not going unnoticed by her maternal eye.

“Just… just don’t want to miss any part of the tour, is all,” he says, ears tipped red.

“Uh-huh…”

A few more paces, and the mother-son pair arrived at the MassArt Art Museum. Inside, they’re greeted by high ceilings and white walls like blank canvases. Grandiose, multi textured sculptures add a plethora of color to the space, some stand tall from the floors, others hang low and ceilings. The bright colors and lights could easily make you forget the dreary Fall day outside, the inside of the museum matching the inside of Chris’ chest.

Chris is shrugging off his raincoat when his mother goes to check them in. “She’s probably already in the crowd over there,” she points in the direction of a large group. “Go ahead and look for her; I’ll find you in a bit.”

The tour group with a median age of about 78 is already eagerly gathered in the lobby around a museum tour guide. Chris scans the crowd, large than he anticipated, probably about 100 if he were to guess, but can’t seem to spot you. He decides to remain in the back of the group, figuring he’ll find you once the tour gets moving. Chris tunes into the addressing tour guide for the time being.

“Once we’re in the exhibit, I want everyone to remember…”

“On your left.”

Chris side-glances down to his left side to be met by your profile staring straight ahead in the same direction he was just a moment ago. He took in your kinky-curly fro, a little shrunken and and slightly frizzed than usual because of the humidity, but it worked for you. Your face is fresh and free of makeup, a look you seemed to like to sport, and he thinks to himself that he likes it on you, too. After a moment of no response from Chris, your eyes flutter up to him. He’s met with your smirking face, but you then turn your attention back to the tour guide. You both pretend to listen.

“Really? ‘On your left?’” Chris finally says.

“What’s the matter? Captain Amer—“

“Shhshsh!” Chris hovers his thick pointer fingers, over yours and his mouths to signal you to stop your thought.

You brought your chin all the way into your neck as a natural instinct to retreat the offending phalange in your face. You push his hand out of the way before harshly whispering. “You gotta not!”

“YOU gotta not!” He harshly whispers back. You quirk your brow and slightly roll your neck at him. In a less anxious whisper he says, “Keeping a low profile, thank you.” Then it all makes sense. The cap, the hoodie, the shrunken stature and a standing in the back.

“Oh… my bad.” You deflate, once again returning your gaze to the speaking tour guide. You truly hadn’t thought of the repercussions of mentioning his Marvel movie moniker.

You’ve not had to deal with that level of notoriety… not yet, anyway. The level where a blown cover in public could mean the dissension of fans and paps alike. The level where you needed a cover in the first place. Sure, you get recognized every now and again, but you’re by no means at mega star, shades and hoodies, constantly looking over your shoulder status.

And you loved that. You could sympathize with Chris. You’ve seen how crazy it can get, and it definitely is worth protecting yourself from.

Chris has been trying to keep his attention ahead, but he glances at you every few seconds. He senses the air around you change. There’s a ballet of expressions dancing across your face. You knitted your brows together, released and raised them, with your eyes and lips following suit in similarly stressed movements and shapes. You’re deep in thought.

“You alright over there? Museum guidelines aren’t that moving.”

“I really didn’t mean anything by it. I just was trying to poke fun at you, not blow up your spot.”

Chris sighs and smiles at your sentiment. “It’s alright,” He bumps your shoulder when he sees you’re still distraught. He gets a smile out of you. “Hey, you know what would help? If you stopped staring at me. Would draw less attention.”

“Uh, puh-lease! You wish I was staring. Nice try at projecting, though.”

Chris quirked a confused brow, turning to you. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what took you so long to answer me a minute ago?” Shit, Chris thought. “That’s what I thought,” you sassed.

“I wasn’t staring at you per say. There’s a lil somethin’ in your hair…”

“What? What is it?!” You delicately touch around your curls searching for the offending object.

“Here lemme help,” Chris says as he stands to his full height over you. You look up at him with those darling eyes of yours, and he looks down at you, breath caught in his throat. Just a second later, he comes back to earth as he’s plucking something weightless from your hair. He slowly brings his hand down from your head to show you what he’s retrieved. “It’s just a little… piece… of stupid,” and he boops your nose.

“You know what!” You say in a loud whisper while you enjoy hitting his arm as retaliation.

Chris feigns hurt with a gasp. “That was mean,” he’s pouting trying to suppress his smile. He pokes out his elbow towards you. “Kiss it, make it better.”

“Ugh!” You shove him away, turning your head away from him, biting back your smile. You're failing miserably when you look back to him, and he’s wearing a boyish grin himself. “You are absolutely—“

“SHHHHH!!!!” You jump and Chris clutches his chest, both of you wide-eyed and taken aback by an old man that’s turned around to shush you two.“If you two are gonna flirt, do it quietly!”

You and Chris start to stumble over your words while talking over each other.

“No, whaaa? Flirt… Huh?”

“We weren’t, like…”

“Yeah, that’s not— um…”

“Totally not what’s—“

“Not like this is a date,” Chris blurts out with a nervous chuckle then freezes in place. It’s one of those *unfortunate* moments when his mouth moved faster than his brain. He stares straight ahead, not daring to look at you. If he had, he would have seen you had a matching stunned look from his blab.

“They’re sorry, Mr. Abara,” you both feel a hand on your shoulders as Lisa comes up behind you to intervene.“They’ll be on their best behavior from here on out, right?” She nods in a prompting manner, you and Chris following her lead.

“We’re sorry,” You mumble.

“It was her fault…” Chris says, earning him smack on the shoulder from his mom. “What?! It was!”

Mr. Abara turns around with a ‘hmph’, causing you and Chris giggle like teenagers at the grumpy old man. Lisa clears her throat and you and Chris straighten up.

“You two can’t help but draw attention to yourselves, huh?”

Before either of you could refute, the tour guide is ushering your group to the showroom for your day at the museum to really begin.

——————————————————————————

The exhibition was amazing to say the least. You’d never heard of the artist before, but you were astounded by her unique use of color, texture, and light in her work. And she was a sista? You were definitely going to keep her in mind for upcoming projects you had.

However incredible the artwork was, you’re not too sure how it compared to the entertainment that was the social show.

Your trio strolled together, taking in the majesty of the first few pieces. After a while Chris starts to linger behind you and Lisa for a bit. He admires the way you and his mom get along, walking arm-in-arm looking at the art.

The tour guide has everyone gather around a specific piece. “This one is my absolute favorite! It’s called ‘Mother Earth’. Do be shy; you can get close, but do not touch.”

When you step up to the piece, Chris is also does from the other side. He smiles and offers a quaint wave as if it’s your first time meeting. You reciprocate, and both proceed to lean in to the art for inspection.

“Wow,” you say as you marvel at the depth of blackness that outlines gaps for open air to breeze through. The piece has incredible curvature that makes the inanimate object look as if it were ready to continue dancing any minute now. All it needed was the right song or magic words to bring it back to life. You move around the pedestal to look at it’s other sides, Chris moving at the same rate across from you, equally as intrigued. There’s glints of gold, silver, emerald, and jade that add to its enchantment. “You ever see something so mysterious and beautiful and wonder, ‘Where did you come from?’”

“Yeah,” you move slightly, and your now eye to eye with Chris through one of the spaces within the sculpture. His Cerulean orbs pierce through to you thoughtfully, endearingly, making you wonder what he is thinking. “Yeah, I have.” Surely he’s not talking about…

“Alright people!” The tour guide shouts with a clap. “Let’s keep it moving!”

You stand up straight, while Chris glides over to you, hands his pockets, bouncing on his toes. You both have found the ground to be particularly interesting as you walk alongside each other to view the next piece of art. Standing before it, there’s not much of intellect input you can give with Chris’ presence fuzzing your brain. The silence is kind of enjoyable between you two, though. The pressure to fill the air with witty quips is at bay at this moment, and it's nice.

After a while, you both tentatively turn towards each other. Chris goes to say something, you’re sure it’ll be his analysis of what the artist’s intent is, but he doesn’t start his thought. Instead, his arm is being linked by some elderly woman.

“Uh, hello?”

“Hiya, Handsome,” she purrs, causing Chris to chuckle and rub the back of his neck. She leans her head on his shoulder and places her free, wrinkly hand on his chest. “So tell me what you think of this piece?” She says coyly.

“Umm…” Chris looks at you for help, but you are none. You just smirk and motion your head towards the art, urging him to answer her question. “Well, I think it’s speaking to the unique experience and intersectionality of being both black and a woman in the Diaspora. There are nods to the many hardships, horror, and passed down trauma that black women have and continue to endure, yet it so often turn into the most beautiful fruit, works worthy of high regard and praise by graceful, powerful women who are also deserving of such, tenfold.”

“Wow…” you and the ogling old-timer say simultaneously. He shyly looks at the ground and you shake off the spell of his summation. I’m not REALLY about to give this man points for stating basic YET ignored facts, am I? I’ll put a pin in this, but damn will I look at him differently.

“Y’know,” Chris’ amorous aged arm-candy starts, “I love a man who knows some BIG words and is not afraid to use ‘em!” she punctuates with a growl.

It takes everything in you not to laugh at Chris’ bugged out eyes and rosy face. You think you might’ve even seen a drop of sweat form on his brow. “Oh, okay…” he says as he tries to subtly pry the woman off of him. He looks to you for salvation again, but you’re already making your way to the next piece, waving at Chris over your shoulder, “I’ll leave y’all to it,” you laugh.

——————————————————————————

The tour’s come to an end and museum goers are starting to trickle out, some staying for the cheap hors d’oeuvres that are laid out. Chris managed to get his new lady friend off of him (might or might not have taken a few minutes of hiding in the bathroom), and he’s now flicking through his pictures of the day on his phone. There’s some of you and his mom smiling nicely at one another, him taking selfies with some of the work he considers posting later to shout out the artist, and some blurry ones of you, Chris, and Lisa, taken by a shakey hand museum goer.

The pictures that stop his swift swiping are of you admiring paintings on the wall. There’s nothing particularly special about these paintings; they were in the Baroque hall outside of the featured exhibit. You however, are thee something special. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but the way you fill the frame and effortlessly draw him in is magical to him. His favorite one from the set is the one with your back to the camera. Your silhouette has become iconic to him; standing out amongst the tired and basic. Holding your own in his brain.

“Just go talk to her. It’s better— less creepy— than staring at her picture.” Chris looks to his side to find Mr. Abara walking by extremely slowly passed.

“Oh, hey, Mr. Abara. Like I said before, it’s not—“

“What’re you scared, son?”

“Um… no, it’s… it’s just not like that.”

“Not like what?”

“Not… not like that,”

Mr. Abara nods slowly. “Sure it’s not.” Chris is thinks he hears Mr. Abara mumble something about not being born yesterday, but he’s already walking in your direction at the snack table.

When he arrives, you’re picking through the repulsive options. “Why the hell would they find this acceptable to give to old people?” You mumble under your breath. “I get their on they’re way out, but—”

“Talking to ourselves, are we?” Chris speaks up, causing you to yelp and jump out of your skin. His booming laugh and your screech cause some of the older museum goers to give you to the stank eye. “Oops, might’ve given some of ‘em a heart attack.”

“Might’ve given me a heart attack!”

“I realized something,” Chris changes the subject, picking up a grape to eat.

You sigh as your heart rate comes down. “What’s that?”

“That this is the first time we’re seeing each other in the daytime and without alcohol in our systems.”

You ponder on it for a second, “Really?” you question him and he nods.

“Huh, that’s… that’s a damn shame,” you laugh a little, and he does too.

“Sure is,” he agrees, popping another grape into his mouth.

“So, how do you like me sober and in natural lighting?” You jokingly ask him, motioning down your figure for added dramatics.

He sizes you up, eyes languidly travelling up your frame. The heat rises to your face just as his gaze does. He locks in on your eyes for just as second longer than what would be deemed an innocent look before saying, “Eh, you’re alright I guess,” nonchalantly, while going for another grape.

You shake your head at him slowly, a smug smile creeping on to your lips. “You just don’t wanna give me my props, huh? Whatever.”

The two of you laugh and chat for a while while waiting for Lisa. You’re interrupted by someone calling Chris’ name in the distance. You thought it was Lisa at first, relieved that you could call it day because your stomach was growling. However when you and Chris looked in the voice’s direction, you were more interested in staying a little while longer.

“Ooooh Handsome!!” Chris’ aged admirer chirped across the room. She must’ve been looking for him because her eyes were squinted and she moved her head from left to right in search of her unrequited beau.

“He’s right—”

“Don’t you dare!” Chris chides, his firm tone fluttering your stomach just a little. “We gotta go!”

He’s panicking over a lustful lady twice his age and you’re amused greatly, but you had no time to appreciate it as Chris put his hand on your lower back to lead you out of the museum. “Wait, what about your mom?” You tried to protest.

“She’ll find her way!”

“There you are!” Chris’ Boomer bugaboo exclaims.

“Go! Go! Go!”

——————————————————————————

“Well, this is my stop!” Lisa says as you all pull up to the youth theater where she works. She turns to you in the backseat. “Thank you for joining me today! Next time I’ll leave my son at home since he thinks he can leave me in the museum.”

“Hey! You didn’t see the look in that woman’s eyes! You would’ve ran like hell, too,” Chris exclaims from the driver’s seat.

“My poor baby,” Lisa pinches his cheeks as  she facetiously dotes and Chris rolls his eyes, eliciting a giggle from you. She pulls him close to her mouth to whisper something you can’t hear. You turn to look outside your window, your way of giving them privacy. 

“Are you threatening me, Ma?” You hear Chris humorously say.

“Threatening, mothering. Tomato, tahmato. Just do it. I’ll see you later, honey,” and with that Lisa leaves for work.

Chris drops his head, shaking it and laughing to himself.

“What is it?” You ask.

“Uh… my mom wants me to ask if you’d like to get some lunch. Since that museum food was shit and all.”

You arch a brow and contemplate the offer. You still weren’t so sure about hanging out with him solo. But I mean, I COULD eat.

Sensing your hesitation, Chris says, “It’s cool if… you don’t want to, I get it—“

“Sure,” you cut him off, unbuckling your seatbelt to climb over the front console to the passenger seat. You sit with a huff, and adjust your clothes. You looked over at him, and he’s got a look of slight disbelief. Unsure if it’s from you saying ‘yes’ or climbing into his front seat, you ask, “What?”

“Nothing, nothing…” he smiles at you. You look down at your lap, unable to meet his eyes. He lets his eyes linger on your shy form for a few seconds before clearing his throat, and asking, “So, uh, what kinda food do you want?”

“I’m down for anything.”

Chris amusedly huffs.“You women always say that, then when we men try to stick it in—“

“WOW, really?!” You swat at his arm and realize how buff he is because he didn’t even flinch. You try not to give in to your urge to laugh, but it’s hard when Chris is failing miserably and holding in his. You shouldn’t find it funny, but you kind of do. You let out a small laugh and roll your eyes at him. “You are absolutely childish.”

“No, not absolutely. I think I’ve prove to have some level of intellect today.” 

“If you’re talking about your dissertation earlier, verdicts still out on if you get a cookie.”

“S’long as there’s a trial,” he says with a heartwarming smile that you mirror. “And I was kidding, by the way, with the-- I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of pervert. You set it up for the joke, and I —”

“You don’t have to explain. I can take a joke.”

“Ok…cool.”

“Ok, cool,” you mimic him. “So what are we gonna eat?”

“You like pizza?”

“Who doesn’t like pizza?” you retort.

“True. Well, there’s this place, a true local staple ‘cos it’s the BEST pizza in Boston! Probably the whole world!” Gushes about this place.

“Not in the whole world!” you mock him. “Do they have vegan options?” He blinks at you. “What now?” you ask with a shrug.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re a vegan? Uggghhh!!!” Chris dramatically puts his head on the steering wheel.

You laugh at his antics. “Is that a deal breaker for you?”

He scoffs, then looks out his window, trying to avoid you seeing his cheeks turn red. You smirk to yourself knowing damn well you just made him blush. Still looking out his window at the rainy Boston day, “No real pizza place is gonna have ‘vegan options’,” he finishes with a Valley girl accent.

“First of all, it’s scary how good you are at that voice, and secondly, I beg to differ! You’ve clearly never been to Mellow Mushroom. Best pizza there is, AND there’s vegan options. I mean what did you get up to when you were in Atlanta?”

“Oh sweethaht,” he stresses his Boston accent, “you’re not ready for those stories…” he chuckles looking at you sideways through his lashes with a smirk, hoping you’d get the joke. He finds you trying to suppress a laugh, shaking your head then turning to look out the windshield, make him laugh in that mischievous way you’ve come to be fond of

“I know a place we could go to eat” you offer.

“Yeah? What kind of food?”

“Um… I don’t think I’ll tell you. It’s a surprise.”

“You’re lucky I’m in a ‘surprise’ kind of mood.”

You put the address in his car’s built in GPS, and you guys are on your way to lunch. But just before he pulls off, he looks at you with that boyish smile of his and sparkling blue eyes. You were re-applying your lip gloss in his overhead mirror. You turned mid-gloss glide, the wand still on your bottom lip. “What now?!”

Chris' gaze lingers on your lips before he looks up to your own sparkling eyes. “Nothing…” he said though you knew it was something; your heart didn’t flutter delightfully for no reason. “Nothing at all.”

Part 7 coming soon! What’d you think?

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #Chris Evans series #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x poc!reader

[patchwork-panda]

If A Moment Is All We Are (Ch.1)

This is the Dazai x OC/”reader” with bits of Kunikida x OC/”reader” fic I created.

I’m just gonna post the entire text of first chapter below the cut bc even tho it’s at zero hits, I still feel there’s people out there who might want to read it...

OC is based off “The Story of Your Life” by Ted Chiang, the basis for the movie “Arrival” w Amy Adams.

Shout-out to @discoten for Beta-ing this first part :)

*************************************************************************

Pale gold. Rose red. Dusky purple.

My eyes traveled from one brightly colored glass panel to the next, finally landing upon the deep azure blue of the Virgin Mary’s veil. I kept my eyes trained on her face, trying to stay focused on the massive stained-glass windows, the beautiful art shining all around me, anything to pretend I was at this gallery under different circumstances. Shafts of colored light as bright as shattered gemstones danced across the floor in the late afternoon sun, flitting over the black-clad bodies of the two men who lay prone nearby, their silent forms looking unnaturally still against the vibrant carpet.

I swallowed uneasily, a familiar sort of nausea creeping up from the pit of my stomach as I watched the dark pool of liquid around them grow wider and wider, the smell of iron heavy in the air...

Squeezing my eyes shut momentarily, I wrenched my attention away from them, trying to go back to staring at the windows but found myself looking once again into a pair of steel-gray eyes. There, at the entrance of the gallery, standing so still he may was well be a statue himself, was the young man who’d slain the two security guards lying on the floor nearby. With his pale face, stark-white cravat, and torn black overcoat, he reminded me of a vampire, or maybe even a god of death—his very image called to mind a painting of the Grim Reaper I’d passed on my way into this room. If only I had heeded the warning...

If I had, then maybe I wouldn’t be staring into a pair of piercing red eyes right now—the eyes of a shadowy monster attached to the back of this man’s cloak. As if sensing my thoughts, the demonic creature bared its dagger-like fangs and growled, its bloody, gaping maw stretching wide.

I kept my hands in the air. My cold, sweaty palms trembled on either side of my face as I returned my attention to the stained-glass windows around me. I’d had my hands in the air for so long that my arms were getting tired but I couldn’t drop them—I didn’t want to think about what would happen next if I did. Then the headlines tomorrow would read: “Attack at the South Pier Art Gallery. Three dead: two curators and one visitor.” In perhaps a day or two, they’d identify my corpse as “Kusunoki Kyou, aged twenty, a college drop-out and local shut-in.” They wouldn’t be able to get a hold of my parents; they were overseas and I hadn’t seen the rest of my family in so long, I wasn’t even sure if they were still in Chiba any more. Maybe the reporters would interview one or two of my former classmates... But would they even be able to find anybody who still wanted to talk about me after I shut myself away so abruptly?

“Hey, how have you been? Akutagawa-kun?” the man behind me called out brightly, the lilting tenor of his voice jarring, given our current situation.

I kind of figured he was crazy from the moment we met, but not this crazy.

What kind of man tries to play catch up with a friend (acquaintance? I honestly had no idea how they knew each other) while holding a gun to somebody’s head—my head? Even though I couldn’t turn around to see his face, I could picture his cheerful smile, the twinkle in his intelligent brown eyes, the layers of bandages wrapped around his neck. I could practically hear the gears in his head turning behind me as he watched Akutagawa and calculated his next move, the tone of his voice giving absolutely nothing away.

There was a tiny click—the sound of the safety being shut off—and I grimaced as I felt the metallic chill of the handgun’s muzzle pressing more firmly against the back of my head. Akutagawa immediately shot a dirty glance over my head at the person holding me hostage. He spat out a single name:

“Dazai-san.”

I went back to staring at the windows.

I really shouldn’t have left my apartment this morning.

***

Ramen.

Instant ramen was the reason I decided to venture out of my glorified broom closet for the first time in probably weeks. Had I known that the craving for convenience store food would lead to my being shot to death in six hours’ time, I would’ve ignored the growling of my stomach and taken my chances with starving at home instead.

Maybe.

I’d stayed up far too late the night before binge-watching the latest season of a new anime I’d picked up and my best guess for when I’d finally fallen asleep at my computer was probably around three in the morning. When I finally woke up (sometime around noon), I had Pocky crumbs in my hair, my pajamas were sticking unpleasantly to my skin and my stomach was grumbling from the lack of real food in who knows how long. Unfortunately, my pantry was empty, so I did what any normal person in my situation would do: put off going outside for another couple hours by picking another anime to watch. I only realized I really needed to get going when I finally reached into my giant bag of snacks and found it empty.

Dread building in the pit of my stomach at the mere thought of going outside, I threw off the pink bunny pajamas that I hadn’t changed out of in a while and tossed them on the growing pile of clothes on the floor. I hadn’t done the laundry in weeks and it was anyone’s guess which pile was “clean” and which was “dirty” (I’d lost track of which was which days ago). However, I didn’t have a real need to distinguish between the two until today... I stepped into the bathroom, walking right past the tiny cracked mirror above the sink without really looking into it and pulled the shower curtain closed. I knew what I would see: a greasy, dead-eyed otaku version of the creepy girl from The Ring, with long black hair and reddish-brown eyes, only instead of a haunted child, I’d see an adult who failed to get her life together after just two years of moving out of her relatives’ house.

Half an hour later, I’d dressed myself in an old pair of jeans and a large sweatshirt emblazoned with the logo of a magical girl anime and was desperately fishing around in my kitchen drawer for the thing I needed most: a pair of gloves. I hadn’t needed to go outside in so long that I’d forgotten to stock up on nitrile gloves and it was with an enormous amount of relief that I finally retrieved an old pair at the bottom of the drawer.

I was too tired and hungry to notice the small hole in one of the gloves when I pulled them on, nor did I notice when I put on my face mask and tied up my hair. Honestly, I was just lucky the torn one didn’t rip completely away from my hand when I was putting on my shoes but maybe it would’ve been better if it did. Maybe then I wouldn’t have ended up at the art gallery...

But I wasn’t thinking about my gloves when I prepared for my short trip; I was thinking about food. After all, it was supposed to be a quick trip, just a short walk through the hallway and down the street to the nearest convenience store, then back. It honestly might not have been so bad if everything that happened after hadn’t gone so horribly wrong.

The first thing that went wrong happened the moment I stepped out of the building. Blinded by the sudden appearance of sunlight, I smacked right into an old lady walking in front of my building and immediately fell on my butt.

“Oh my, Kyou-chan!”

I groaned as I slowly got back to my feet.

“Is that you, Kyou-chan? Nobody’s seen you in weeks; it’s been so quiet on your end of the floor that we thought maybe you moved out!”

“No, I’m still here, Yamazaki-san,” I replied, recognizing the woman’s face before her voice.

Mrs. Yamazaki lived on the same floor as me and was kind of a busybody, but a caring one. The evening I’d first moved into the building, she’d knocked on my door around dinner time and asked if I knew how to play Mah-Jong. One of her friends had canceled on their group last minute and they’d needed a fourth. I’d declined as politely as I could but was still somehow dragged out of my room by the boisterous old woman and forcibly socialized over a cup of hot genmai-cha. I’d meant to return the favor by dropping by with some kind of snack in hand but never got around to it.

I could feel the guilt curling in the pit of my stomach as I took in her tiny form, her smiling face but all I could do was smile weakly as she remarked on how malnourished I looked and how long my hair had grown since she’d last seen me. Then she spotted the tote bag in my hand.

“Kyou-chan! Are you going shopping?”

“Not really, just getting some ramen at the convenience store.”

Mrs. Yamazaki’s eyes widened.

“Is that all you’ve been eating these days?” she asked, sounding concerned.

“N-no. I’ve had...”

I thought back to my box of strawberry Pocky.

“...Other things.”

She frowned.

“That won’t do,” she declared.

Without waiting for me to respond, she grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the nearest crosswalk.

“Yamazaki-san!” I tried to wrench my arm out of her grip but she was surprisingly strong for her age. Or maybe—I cringed—maybe I’d just become extremely weak after months of being a shut-in and not getting any proper exercise. Drawing commissions hardly worked the arms.

“This isn’t the way to the convenience store! Yamazaki-san!!”

Before long, we were inside an actual grocery, Mrs. Yamazaki chatting away merrily as she pulled vegetables off the shelves and tucked them away into her own basket (I’d run into her just as she was about to go anyway). Occasionally, she’d grab something green and leafy and stick it into the basket she’d forced into my hands, and she kept doing it until she’d buried the thick layer of ramen and junk food that lay at the bottom of the bag. When she was satisfied with the composition of my groceries, she nodded approvingly and hurried me towards the cash registers.

“There now,” she laughed once we were outside and I was carrying a very heavy bag of things I hadn’t actually intended to buy. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She stepped off the sidewalk and two things happened very quickly: one, a truck ran a red light, barreling towards her as she attempted to cross the street, and two, as I dropped my groceries and rushed forward to save her, my right glove caught on something sticking out of my bag and finally ripped.

“Yamazaki-san!”

I reached out—my fingers stretched towards her.

“Look out!!”

Several onlookers screamed as I seized Mrs. Yamazaki by the back of her jacket and yanked her back. We fell to the ground, crashing down onto the sidewalk just as the truck sped through the intersection, honking madly as it flew by. Somebody behind us was yelling for the cops, several people had taken out their cell phones and as one of the grocery store employees rushed over to help us up, I felt an odd stinging sensation in my right hand.

I looked down and saw that my right glove had been completely shredded. Though I still had coverage on most of my fingers, much of the pale blue nitrile was hanging off my right hand in thin, ragged tatters and there were several long scratches on the palm of my hand from where I’d scraped it against the sidewalk when I fell.

The store employee, a stout, middle-aged man with bulky arms, helped a very shaken Mrs. Yamazaki to her feet, and though I could feel her trembling as she clung to me, I tried to shift my posture as she leaned on me. I couldn’t let her touch any part of my bare hand.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” the man from the store asked.

“Y-yes, I’m fine,” Mrs. Yamazaki answered, her voice quavering as she looked up at the man and then at me.

Tears sprang to her eyes and before I could stop her, she got down on her knees and bowed deeply, touching her forehead to the ground in gratitude.

“Y-Yamazaki-san?”

“Thank you!” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You saved my life, Kyou-chan!”

“Yamazaki-san, please,” I dropped to my knees as well and tried to help her up. “You don’t need to do that. Please, get up.”

As the store employee and I raised Mrs. Yamazaki to her feet, she chuckled, her eyes wide with wonder as she looked at me.

“And to think, if I hadn’t met you on your way out this morning, I might be...”

She shook her head slowly and I exchanged a worried glance with the man who’d come to help.

“I don’t know where I would be if you weren’t here, Kyou-chan,” Mrs. Yamazaki breathed. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

Though she seemed to be completely fine, with no broken bones or serious injuries, she continued to cling to me, and I felt her grip on my arm tighten as the employee informed her the police were on their way and we may want to stay to give a statement. Panic slowly rose in my chest as I felt my uncovered wrist coming out of my sleeve but as I carefully began to extricate myself from Mrs. Yamazaki’s grip, she suddenly turned to me and looked me up and down. She gasped.

“Oh, Kyou-chan!”

Her eyes had fallen upon my scratched palm.

“You’re bleeding!”

I yanked my hand away.

“I’m fine, ma’am.”

“Let me see it,” she demanded, grabbing my wrist. “I insist.”

As the store employee ran inside to get some band-aids, Mrs. Yamazaki gently picked up the edges of the ripped nitrile, pulling it away from my bloody, scratched-up palm, oblivious to my attempts to get away. As the glove gradually peeled away from my hand, I felt the warmth of her wrinkled skin brush against my fingers.

And then it happened.

The sound of canned laughter echoes throughout the room. Flickering green and white light casts odd shadows upon the walls. The cat-shaped clock above the television reads half past eleven in the middle of the night but there is another sound that is audible over the muffled noises from the TV. It beats in time with the clock and it sounds like something dripping, something liquid and warm.

Tick.

Tick.

T i ck.

The clock cat’s eyes shine with unnatural green light— light reflected from the television screen. They are blank , open, and staring, just like the eyes of the woman draped oddly over the side of the television set, her eyes wide with fear and shock.

Mrs. Yamazaki clutches at her chest. Blood dribbles thickly from between her fingers, her breath comes in wheezes and gurgled gasps as she slumps further and further down the side of her TV set. She leaves a bloody hand print on the side panel and falls to the ground.

Someone is laughing.

I am laughing.

The sound is deep, unfamiliar. There is a large, bloody kitchen knife held fast in my fingers, which are thick and hairy. I move my arm to check the wound Mrs. Yamazaki had inflicted on me and I see the vivid tattoo of a monstrous green snake, its fangs sinking deeply into a cracked human skull.

The television returns to its regularly scheduled programming. A time stamp appears in the upper right hand corner...

I came to, to the sound of somebody calling my name and immediately let out a sharp hiss of pain. While I was out, I had dropped to my knees, scuffing my jeans, and I could feel the thin skin over my kneecaps bruising horribly against the concrete sidewalk. Thankfully, that was all but my hands were shaking and I had a massive headache. Looking alarmed, Mrs. Yamazaki, not a single knife wound visible on her body, held my hand in both of hers with a troubled expression on her face. She had been the one calling me.

“Oh my goodness! Are you alright, Kyou-chan? You’re as white as a sheet.”

I immediately ripped my hand away and stuffed it into my pocket, just as the store employee returned with bandages. As he stuck out his hand to give me the bandages, I took a step back, shrinking away from the two of them.

“I’m fine.”

I stuffed my hand deeper into my pocket, ignoring the stickiness of the drying blood.

“Are you sure?” Mrs. Yamazaki asked, worry clouding her voice.

“I SAID I’M FINE!!”

That came out way louder than I’d meant it to. The people around me looked startled. I could hear the whispers. My Ability, “The Story of Your Life,” the curse of seeing visions of the future of those I touched, had manifested at the worst possible moment. I picked my bag off the sidewalk and ran.

#bungou stray dogs #bungou sd #dazai x oc #dazai x reader #kunikida x reader #kunikida x oc

[pr-writingdump]

Soda: there’s so many babies on tumblr!! How is this possible? They are all so f-ing talent. POP!!??

Pop bolts up from sleeping on the couch. The sleep still fresh in his eyes as they wipe away the crusties. It takes them a moment to focus on what Soda’s saying.

Pop: huh, wut?

Soda: just take it!

Pop: so... they’re all teenagers. What about it?

Soda: look how many notes they have!

Pop: I guess. So what?

Soda: URGH! They’re obviously popular.

Pop:

Soda: I wanna be popular! I bet they have lots of friends.

*Pop breaks into laughter*

Soda: I’m serious!

Pop: XD and that’s seriously hilarious. What’s wrong with your own art? I think it’s pretty great.

Soda: yeah, but I got no notes.

Pop:

Soda: okay! I got some notes but not nearly enough.

*Pop deflates*

Pop: that’s not what I meant.

Soda: just urgh! I don’t get why the system thinks these kids are better than me. I worked hard and I’m like a decade older than them. I should at LEAST get a couple more notes.

Pop: and what’s a couple more notes gonna mean? Like concrete things.

Soda: idk, means people will like my art.

Pop: and??..

Soda: and.. er.. I’ll get stuff? Like admiration and appreciation.

Pop: you know for sure that notes will do this?

Soda: that’s not what I said!

Pop: but it’s what you’re implying.

*Soda rolls their eyes*

Pop: Soda, I really sympathize with what you’re going through just.. don’t you think this is a little obsessive.

Soda:

Pop: I know you didn’t exactly get encouragement when you were their age.

*Soda humourless laughs.*

Soda: that’s puting it lightly

Pop: And.. I don’t think some website mechanics should be the judge of how good your art is.

Soda: that’s all and good for you. You can actually go out and “share” your art. Mine doesn’t share well without people investing time in it.

Pop: true, but, you made art long before anything hit the page. Remember your planned dreams?

At this, Soda starts to break into an intense blush. They mumble about something with the kitchen and start working on the dishes. Pop leans over the side of the couch.

Pop: from what I recall, you had a particular affinity for Jackie Chan Adventures and X-Men Evolution?

Soda: just don’t

Pop: why not? I thought those stories were pretty good.

Soda: urgh! They were just stupid.

Pop: *low voice* Soda...

Soda: what!!? They were. They were stupid-ass stories with my OC jammed in there. Also, just because I kinda had a plotline doesn’t mean it was a fanfiction. I never wrote anything down———

Soda freezes as Pop places down a reference photo. It was the same one with the torn corner and water damaged color ink page. The creese marks that divided it into quarters were like it was folded yesterday.

Soda: I told YOU to leave it where it belongs.

*Pop defensively pulls it away*

Pop: no, you aren’t throwing it away. Glaedr Xavier wouldn’t.

A blush starts to form in earnest but Soda manages to collect themself before it gets from cheek to cheek.

Pop: I’m not bringing this up to shame ya or anything. I’m just sayin’ to hear me out. You were young once.

Pop is careful to unfold the delacate decade old paper. They flatten out the water damaged edges the best they can. Their gaze crosses it with such care that it leaves Soda speechless.

Pop: these kiddos are just like little GX.

*Tears swell in Soda’s eyes*

Soda: I wasn’t like them. I couldn’t do any of shit they’re doing even if I tried.

Soda looks at their feet as they sniffle. The tears start to come down in earnest as it clouds their vision. They hated bringing up the past. Even more, they hated when Pop got like this. Pop was so always so sentimental about what happened. Sentimentaliy is for things, not stupid dumb memories of a stupid kid who had their head so far up their ass that they wouldn’t make any art just because—

Soda’s thoughts are interrupted as Pop unfurls Soda’s hands and lets them hold the momento, knowing full well now that Pop resurfaced all those memories that Soda couldn’t ball it up and throw it away.

Soda: you’re an asshole. ya know that, right?

*Pop shrugs*

Pop: say what you will but you know it’s true.

Pop holds up their sleeve. Soda leans into Pop as they wipe away the tears. Soda steps back. They glance over the images over and over again as the memories come flooding back. They’d store hour long plotlines that they’d play out like movies over and over again before bed. They did it so much that they learned to fight in their dreams.

When they inevitably started making art, they loved having a detailed recreation of their scene within their head with color, backgrounds, set pieces, choreography and general facial expressions. They just hated to admit how long they’d been making that art. It must’ve been two or three years before they put pen to paper.

Just.. just... so many barriers to entry. So many mental hoops to jump through.

It made them want to laugh at the irony for what ACTUALLY made them start. What actually made them share and put their stuff out there. It was about as childish as what held them back.

Jealousy, Envy and Inferiority.

They saw their dear friend write what they considered drivel and were determined that they could do art better. To be better than one other artist. To be superior to someone else even if just in their mind.

Remembering it now, it just makes Soda feel gross. Were they really letting the envy go to their head again? Were they letting it stop them from trying at all? Starting from a toxic place is one thing, we all start where we start but... the idea of ending over something that wasn’t a desire of Soda’s own wasn’t something Soda could take lying down.

Pop: soda? You alright, buddy?

Soda: i——i.. I need a minute.

Pop: should I——

Soda: ——-yeah.

Pop: see ya around.

Pop leaves the apartment. Everything goes quiet or.. as quiet as it could. Soda listens for the soft breathing of the shy kitty still huddled under the couch. Though, the roar of the dehumidifier fan in the bathroom made it challenging to hear the kitty’s labored breathes.

Soda gently cradles their head. Today was alot. Yesterday was lot. The mere idea of tomorrow seems like a mountain they’d inevitably fall on just like a Papyrus vs a Frisk. It makes Soda sick with anticipation.

Still, their soul glows with a soft warmth. They can’t deny that they feel at peace.. for now.

#soda and pop #2020feb #artists on tumblr #younger artists #jealousy #envy #inferiority #toxic #projection

[callunavulgari]

TOP 25 FICS OF 2018

1. A Cornstalk Fiddle by @notbecauseofvictories | Devil Went Down To Georgia | The Devil/Johnny | 17k

Where Johnny goes, the Devil follows; where Johnny goes, the Devil is already there.

Heather Says: So. I never thought that my favorite fic of the entire year would be a fic written about a song - and one that I don’t even particularly like - but here I am. I read this fic the same night that I finally broke down and watched Moonlight, and ended up listening to Moonlight’s End Credits and Hello Stranger by Barbara Lewis on repeat while I finished that first chapter on my back porch. This is that perfectly atmospheric fic that you’ll find maybe once every ten years and could probably sustain you on its memory for just as long.

2. Work of All Saints by @kaikamahine | Coco | Imelda/Hector/Ernesto | 210k

Imelda Rivera (b. 1899 - d. 1969), a story that includes but is not limited to: the finest music school this side of the Santo Domingo, three traveling musicians and the mess they made of love, the twice-cursed assassination of Venustiano Carranza, all the patron saints, and ninety-six ways a man can try to cross a bridge.

Heather Says: This story blew my entire mind. It was lovely, and tragic, and hilarious, and everything that a good novel should be. The parts of this fic that map out the unseen lives of Imelda, Hector, and Ernesto, that hidden backstory that a movie can only hint about, were exquisite to the point that I was afraid getting to the point where, well, they die, would be a letdown. It really wasn’t. If anything, the story managed to get richer as it went along, until suddenly you’re in a room sobbing into a pillow at four in the morning and have to be awake in four hours. No regrets.

3. Under the Covers by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 87k

Steve is (maybe) a little bit still in love with Nancy Wheeler and (maybe) trying to figure himself out-- between the night terrors and the babysitting and the general weirdness that is Hawkins, Indiana-- before he graduates.

Billy Hargrove fits in there somewhere (probably).

Heather Says: Under the Covers was the first Harringrove fic that actually kicked me over the edge from ‘eh this ship looks like it would have good hate sex’ and into full-fledged believer. It’s an intricately crafted look into the world of Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington post-season two and it is absolutely glorious.

4. Bloody Ruin by esama | Castlevania | Alucard/Trevor | 37k

Vampire hunter and a vampire try to get along.

Heather Says: Written before season two came out, this was one of those fics that I clicked on because the pairing interested me and I wanted to see how it worked. It did not disappoint, and even after I delved through the tag on ao3 after I marathoned season two, this is still my favorite.

5. a road less traveled and a life less led by Azzandra | Dishonored | Billie & The Outsider | 9k

She took him out of the Void, as promised. And then she kept him, she supposed.

Heather Says: You know all that fanart that started cropping up after Death of the Outsider came out? The ones where Billie and the Outsider crept around Dunwall or Karnaca stealing fish and safes and graffiti-ing buildings? The ones with that found family vibe? Yeah. This fic scratches the same itch that all that art did.

6. But I’m Not There Yet by sarahyyy | Yuri On Ice | Yuri/Otabek | 71k

“Are you not going to read the article?” she asks, flopping onto his bed. “Look who ranked second, just after Phichit Chulanont.”

Otabek reluctantly scrolls down, and oh. #2 - Yuri Plisetsky

In the embedded Instagram photo just under that subheading, a very grumpy Yuri is cuddling a very grumpy-looking cat. The caption reads: I found the cat version of me at the shelter today. #iknowisaidnomorecats #canyoublameme

Heather Says: And here, in the stupid cute category we have teenagers navigating love through social media. What’s more, there’s a companion fic.

7. flowers start to bloom in every different hue by orphan-account | Coraline | Coraline/Wybourn | 1k

Coraline grows up, gets a tattoo, and falls in love. In that order.

Heather Says: I read this fic on a slow day at work, often in quick bursts while I was waiting for the kitchen to finish my table’s food. It’s short. It’s sweet. It’s perfect. And honestly? It’s everything that I was looking for when I ventured into the Coraline tag on ao3 because I was curious.

8. Victory Conditions by @astolat | Transformers | Megatron/Optimus Prime | 37k

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” Megatron said mockingly. “You won’t like it, Prime. It’s not a very nice one.”

Heather Says: Fun fact, I’m not even in this fandom. I haven’t touched the Transformers fandom since the first movie came out in 2007 and I spent a very confusing week shipping a boy and his car. But Astolat has literally never lead me wrong, and I was having one of those bored days where nothing quite itches the right spot, so I sat down on the couch and spent two hours reading this. Worth it.

  9. just in it for the game by grim_lupine | Thor | Thor/Loki | 6k

“It's excellent rehabilitation for my image,” Loki says, widening his eyes. “They love you, and because of that they'll trust me. You wouldn't ruin this for me, would you?”

Thor glares at him.

Loki’s mouth twitches. “Also, it's the funniest thing that's ever happened to me.”

Heather Says: The Thor/Loki bug never really bit me until after Ragnorak came out. I mean, sure, I read it and it was good, but hella’s Frostiron fics basically destroyed me for any other Loki pairing. HOWEVER. Ragnorak happened and screwed that all the way up. Also, you know, this fic is absolutely lovely and was just what the doctor ordered.

10. so this guy walks into a bar by MasterOfAllImagination | Pacific Rim | Newt/Hermann | 2.5k

“Bourbon,” Hermann says, hooking his cane on the edge of the bar and sliding by degrees onto a stool.

“Straight up?” the bartender asks.

“Please.” Does he look like the kind of man who enjoys having his nostrils fumigated by undiluted whiskey? “On the rocks.”

Heather Says: I coped with Pacific Rim 2 by reading a couple AUs and a couple very, very long fics full of tragedy and math. Weirdly, the AU of a chance meeting in a bar was the one that stuck.

11. cherry pie by @brawlite & @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 133k

Billy Hargrove lives for summer. Endless sunshine, heavily chlorinated pools, roaming ice cream trucks, and unencumbered freedom? There’s nothing better.

Even being stuck in Hawkins can’t ruin the summer for him. He eats it up, devouring every day whole.

Heather Says: Yeah, okay, but this is the fic that made summer worth it. Highly recommend reading at the pool or with your feet hanging off the back porch. Every piece of this fic was dripping in summertime nostalgia. It was fan-freaking-tastic.

12. the ghost and the good queen val by Wildehack (tyleet) | Thor | Thor/Valkyrie/Loki | 27k

“What,” she says, her heart racing, “was that.”

“What was what?” Korg asks, frowning up at her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Valkyrie squints suspiciously at the ship.

“Oh my god,” Korg says. “You did! You saw a ghost!”

Heather Says: So, remember how I coped with Pacific Rim 2 with copious AUs? This is how I coped with Infinity War.

13. For Better or Worse by DragonBandit  | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 22k

All Damien ever wanted was someone who wanted him. All Damien deserves is to die alone, stripped bare of any of the comforts or affections of humanity, a title he willingly shed.

Mark Bryant seems to be the Universe's compromise.

Wherein Damien and Mark are soulmates, and this changes enough.

Heather Says: I think I’ve read this one three or four time this year? It’s 22k of well-written fic for a fandom that has a max of like 100 fics all with lengths that tend to vary between a couple hundred words to 2 or 3k, max. This fic is the one that really catapulted me into the fandom. 

14. in waves by @lymricks | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 38k

It’s March and it’s too cold for Billy to be shirtless and wearing shorts, but he hadn’t noticed until Harrington appeared and made him hold still. Harrington can’t seem to stop looking at the bruises. “What’s it to you if I miss a little school, Harrington?” Billy asks. He feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

“I don’t know,” Harrington snaps back, looking uncomfortable. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Plant your feet, Billy wants to scream at him. I’m going to bowl you over.

Heather Says: And here we have the first fic that wasn’t written by either @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger or @brawlite that made me realize that this fandom was gonna be a good one. So fantastic.

15. the cure by aquaexplicit | The Flash | Cisco/Harry | 43k

“I guess I don’t really get what you need to fix? Harrison Wells is a hot, rich genius that pays you to make cool stuff with his daughter and is totally into you. If you guys boning is the biggest problem you have, I think this officially qualifies as your best relationship ever.”

When Barry puts it like that, everything sounds so simple and not at all as angst ridden as Cisco has been suffering the past few months.

Cisco hangs up on him.

Heather Says: I remember a couple years ago, I fell absolutely head over heels for this one Sterek fic where Derek had twin toddlers and Stiles was the hired babysitter. So I think there’s something about dad + babysitter fics that get me, even if this one in particular the ‘baby’ in question is a fifteen year old genius. Still. Dad + babysitter. I don’t even know, but apparently it works for me.

16. pull out the insides by SpineAndSpite | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 3k

“Stop,” Damien says again, more insistent this time.

“I’m not doing it on purpose.” Mark's heart pounds in his ears and he sees Damien’s hands shaking. God. They shouldn’t have started talking about sex. Shouldn’t have filled in the colors and shadows to this pencil outline of a sketch forming between them. They shouldn’t have given it a name.

Heather Says: This year seems to have had a theme when it comes to fics that I’ve liked and it seems to boil down to: people who are bad for each other have sex and catch feelings. Mark/Damien is not the healthiest ship. But it also hurts in this stupidly tragic way and hell if I didn’t fall head over heels for it.

17. tell me, get my shit together by paperclipbitch | Star Wars | Han/Lando | 5k

“I thought we were actively avoiding each other after the Trandosha Shitshow,” Han says.

“We’re actively avoiding each other after the Iridonia Shitshow,” Lando corrects him, “the Trandosha Shitshow is That Which We Do Not Speak Of.”

Heather Says: So, guess what I did in the two to three hours after seeing Solo? If you guessed: ‘combed through ao3 until you ran out of fic’ ding ding ding, you are 100% correct. This one was very, very good, which makes sense, because paperclipbitch has some good shit.

18. chases, escapes, true love, miracles by pepperfield | The Flash | Cisco/Harry 55k

Just because the timeline has been restored, doesn't mean things are back to normal. Cisco's got 99 problems, and Harry Wells is approximately 38 of them.

In which Cisco makes a bunch of plans, fails most of them, narrowly avoids being disintegrated, receives a hug or two, finds his groove, and gets his man. More or less in that order.

Heather Says: This one was long and wibbly wobbly, because it was basically what season 3 should have been. But it was also really great, and had some super quality Harrisco interactions.

19. Your Pretty Little Heart by Ever-so-reylo | Star Wars | Reylo | 64k

Modern day AU in which Ben is an Alpha, Rey is an Omega, and they are way better at having sex than at communicating with each other.

Heather Says: Speaking of people who are probably a little bit bad for each other... This particular fic was new to me, not because of the um, extensive sexual content, but because I’m usually not a fan of A/B/O. But this one was extremely good, enough that I actually liked it for a/b/o aspect rather than in spite of it.

20. Draconia by perceived_nobility | The Bright Sessions | Mark/Damien | 4k

"So I was driving. One ex wife and one ex husband later, stopping at the same fucking gas stations you and I stopped at."

Heather Says: This fic actually prompted a 3 hour long conversation on the ‘adult’ Mark/Damien discord where we basically outlined an entire fic that I never got around to writing where Damien is raising a child, has a farm, and runs into Mark ten years down the ride. One day, I might write it, because vaguely domestic, meet-again-ten-years-down-the-road fics always bowl me right the fuck over and just. There needs to be more fic like this one in the world. But until then, the world can marvel at the beauty that is this one.

21. Artifice by buttpatrol | Wolf 359 | Hera/Eiffel | 23k

A story told in parts about colour palettes, identity, robot uprisings, sensational trials, space, and messy love.

Heather Says: As I’ve recently finished relistening to Wolf 359 I have a fresh appreciation for this fic, which is one of the only longer fics on ao3 that just grips you by the heart and squeezes the same way that the series does. It might have been written before the end of the series, but it’s honestly just as perfect.

22. (shoot the lights out, hide) till its bright out by lipgallagher | Stranger Things | Billy/Steve | 93k

The most dangerous thing walking around Hawkins goes by the name Billy Hargrove.

And he fucking knows it.

Heather Says: I’m kind of cheating here, because this is a series rather than a single fic, but I’m not picking just one part. I read the first four or so parts of this fic when I was visiting my family in South Carolina and spent the next few days wandering around the place half-in Steve Harrington’s headspace. It was an incredibly surreal experience, which lead to a pretty strong combination of mania, depression, and an indescribable craving for ice cream. So like, maybe don’t read this fic if you’re in a bad head space? But also it’s very good and features one of the most fucked up and intriguing Steve’s that I’ve seen yet.

23. Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches by Reiya | Yuri On Ice | Yuuri/Viktor | 197k

‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years, perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’

Heather Says: I actually read this one on the plane ride down to South Carolina, and kind of didn’t like it at first? I’m not sure if it was just the act of putting Yuuri and Victor into the position of rivals that made me uncomfortable or the goddamn delays that turned half a day of travelling into a full one, but eventually I was able to get into and enjoyed it quite a bit. I really like the rivals to lovers trope, so I’d been looking forward to this one a lot.

24. Traveling Far by @astolat | Game of Thrones | Jaime/Brienne | 24k

Three weeks into their delightful slog across Westeros, during yet another charming day of shitting in the woods, eating half-raw squirrel, and trudging his feet bloody, the single most dour and uninteresting woman Jaime had ever met in all of Westeros stopped in the middle of a field, drew a deep breath, and said, “When I was seven, my aunt came to visit with her son. My father told me that as the daughter of the house, it was my duty to show hospitality to my guests and to be gracious to them. I wanted to make him proud. So for three weeks, I let my cousin follow me around and talk to me about spiders.”

Heather Says: I’ve become very fond of astolat’s Jaime/Brienne fics, and I think this one is my favorite yet. Featuring Starks, found family, and a whole lot of walking.

25. lilies of the valley (cover me with kisses, make my garden grow) by diasterisms | Star Wars | Reylo | 8k

Every girl is entitled to the mistake. That one colossal fuck-up that permanently alters the terrain of who you are. You'll either learn from it or you won't, so might as well have the time of your life.

Heather Says: I just. I really like flower shop AUs, and the idea of a Kylo Ren who owns a sleek flower shop being menaced by a tiny gremlin in a leather jacket just. Kills me. It was really sweet and all kinds of wonderful.

#heather says what #2018 #memes #i apologize sincerely for the long post #but also i couldn't stop talking #new year's memes #fuck yeah recs!! #star wars #game of thrones #stranger things #the bright sessions #yuri on ice #wolf 359 #the flash #thor #pacific rim #coraline #transformers #dishonored #castlevania #coco #disney #the devil went down to georgia #harringrove #reylo

[friendlyneighborhoodborg]

Marc Appreciation Week 2019| Day 3: Favorite Ship| “Couples Villainy”

Sorry I was later than usual today.  School dragged today.  But I swear, I’m gonna finish this all by Saturday’s deadline.  Even if I have to post days 4-6 on day 7, I will finish on time.

Alright, time for some more loosely-interpreted prompts.  This one, “Favorite Ship.”  Well, I hope it’s obvious by now who I ship Marc with, so today I’ve made the prompt about shipping in general.  This is a thinly-veiled excuse for not really doing the actual requested prompt.

Disclaimers were in Day 1.  And btw, here’s about where that warning about dysphoria comes in, and where I need y’all to tell me if I’m handling it right.

(~2000 words (Holy Crap) in case you care)

Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7

           The third day of their collaboration was technically the first, being the first day either of them got any work done on the comic.  They had spent the school day texting each other ideas for the story, so that when it came time to meet up in the art room after school, they had completely conflicting concepts of what they wanted to do.

           Especially the villains to use.

           “I still think bringing in Frightingale and Guitar Villain together would be awesome.”

           “Thematically, sure,” Marc argued.  “But think of the power-sets.  They don’t really go together- Frightingale freezes, Guitar Villain makes them dance.”  He scribbled something else down in his notes.  “Consider powers that could play into each other or compliment each other.”

           They sat in the back corner of the room, hunched over one table with their voices low.  Marc had noticed Nathaniel’s classmates come in later, and his friend had introduced them as they did.  Rose and Juleka were on the side of the room, Rose with a little notebook of poetry and Juleka with her bass guitar.  Alix was spray-painting a wall (hopefully with the school’s permission), and the art teacher whose name escaped him watched her warily (suggesting it wasn’t).  More spray cans were stacked near where Juleka was sitting.  Marinette, the only face Marc knew in this club, was absent from the meeting.

           “Such as?” prompted Nath.

           “Well, I can’t actually think of any yet.”  He pursed his lips.  “Dark Cupid and Glaciator?”

           “One breaks up love, one freezes the resultant single people.”  Nathan shook his head.  “You see, that almost sounds kinda gimmicky.”

           “You got a better idea?”

           “We don’t need to pair them up.”  He tore off another sheet from his sketchpad. “Why don’t we let Puppeteer loose in a toy store?  If she finds an action figures section, maybe with the heroes’ figures in it…”

           Marc looked across at him.  “Dude,” he said. “That’s crazy awesome.  But how on earth would the heroes beat her after that?”

           “With the aid of a brand-new, never-before-seen and therefore unfranchised hero.”  Nath grinned smugly.  “See? I can be clever, too.”

           Even Marc had to laugh at that.  “Cool.  But Puppeteer’s pretty powerless on her own, she’d need a way to get her allies right off the bat.  Does Marinette still make those villain dolls?”

           Nathaniel slapped his page in defeat.  “No,” he said.  “I remember now, I asked her that before.”  At Marc’s questioning look, he explained.  “I was trying to work Puppeteer into a different story.  Forget that one then.”

           “Back to our first problem, then.”

           “It occurs, this is kind of how I work normally.”  The redhead chuckled lightly.  “I get too many ideas that I have to thin them out.  Which sucks, cause I think they’re all good, but I don’t want to do them all.”  He waved a hand dismissively.  “So, uh, welcome to my brain, I guess.”

           “Heh.”  Marc bit his lip anxiously.  “I don’t know if you noticed, but your pink friend is standing right there, listening in.”

           Nathaniel rolled his eyes and turned to face the intruder.  “I told you, Rose, I’m not spoiling it.”

           “Come on,” the girl moaned.  “Your stories are so interesting, Nathaniel, I really want to see what you’re working on.”

           “Right now, we’re not working on anything,” Marc pointed out.  “We can’t even decide which villains we want to use in this story.”

           Nath had an idea.  “Why don’t you help?”

           “What?” Rose gasped in delight.  “You want me to help with the story?”

           “Sure.  We can’t agree on anything.  What do you want to see?”

           “Oh, geez,” she gushed.  “This is so cool!  I get to pick the story!”

           “Hey,” piped Marc, looking at his partner. “Are you sure about this?”

           “Couldn’t hurt.  This is just brainstorming, after all.”

           He shrugged.  “Fine.  Rose, you got any ideas?”      

           “I’ve got it!  You should have a couples’ team-up.”  She clapped her hands together and rocked back on her heels.  “Then even the villains can get a romantic subplot.”

           “But…”  Marc scrunched his face.  “As villains?  But they won’t remember anything.”

           “Trust me,” Rose assured.  “I’ve seen it loads of times before.  Nothing brings two people together like a supervillain rampage.”  She sighed dreamily.  “So romantic.”

           “If you say so.”

           “I’m serious!”

           “Rose has a point.”  Alix agreed, finishing a yellowish streak on her wall.  “We know a lot of couples who got together after one of them went butterfly. Rust!”  Without even looking up from tuning her guitar, Juleka threw the requested color over to her.  “Even the first one we had, over a year ago, Stoneheart.  The whole reason he got corrupted was ‘cause he couldn’t spit out his crush and he was getting picked on for it.  Ivan and Mylène have been sickeningly saccharine ever since.”

           “And,” Rose added, “don’t forget, they had their first kiss after Mylène was akumatized.”  

           “ ‘Scuse me,” Marc butt in.  “This is the same Mylène that’s in that play with her dad?”

           “Uh-huh.”

           “She and her boyfriend have been akumatized?”

           “Yep.  Her dad, too.”

           “Cripes.”  Marc surveyed the room.  “You know, there’s a lot of rumors that come from your guys’ class.”

           “We’re aware,” Alix drawled, dropping her current can for a silver can in the row next to her.

           “So?”  Nath waited for his partner’s approval.  “Couples?”

           “Well…”  Marc gave in. “That’s still a better idea than what we’ve got.”  He turned up to Rose again.  “Have anyone in mind?”

           “Do Mylène and Ivan!”  She frowned suddenly.  “Or no, wait, Ondine and Kim!  No, Nino and Alya!”

           Marc blinked.  “You know an awful lot of past akumas.”

           “Well, everyone in our homeroom has been akumatized, so…”  She nodded.  “Yeah, we know a lot.”

           Marc gaped, aghast.  “E-everyone?”

           “Well, all but two.”  Rose suddenly found herself conflicted.  “Oh, no, I’m rooting for them to get together, but I don’t want them to get akumatized…”

           “How have all of you gotten akumatized!?” he exclaimed.  “I’ve heard of your class, I thought you were the ones with the big emotional support thing going on!”

           “Well, that was only after we got akumatized,” Alix explained.  She squinted.  “Whose idea for a word was ‘akumatized?’  That’s such a mouthful.”

           “Okay.”  Exasperated, he threw up his hands. “Seriously, what’s the deal here with your class?”

           “Well.”  Alix slid off her mask and stepped back to appraise her wall.  “You ever met Chloé Bourgeois?”

           Marc tilted his head.  “Once or twice.  Wasn’t she that kinda bratty girl who failed superhero-ing so badly she only got her second chance so she’d stop bragging about it?”

           “Hah!”  Alix shouted. “If only.  No, she’s still bragging about it.  Yellow!”  She held out her hand, waiting for someone to toss it to her, until she realized it was already in the pile at her feet.  “She’s in our homeroom, too.  And she’s been the cause for… oh, I think everyone but Ivan, Max, Lila and Nino.”  She uncapped the can and shook it.  “Like, two-thirds, including the teacher, and not counting people outside our class.”

           “Hang on,” Juleka challenged as Alix widened her yellow streak. “What about you?”

           “I blame her indirectly.  Dark Green!”  She caught it without even looking at her.  “You know, Rose, you didn’t get a girlfriend from your akuma.  In fact, if I recall correctly from the zillion times you’ve told the story, you and Juleka going out had nothing to do with the supervillain drama.”

           “Oh, yeah,” Rose realized.  She thought about this for a moment, looking at Juleka as if appraising the foundation of their relationship.  “Well, not every romance has to start like that, I guess.”  She snapped her fingers.  “Hey, but if you have Princess Fragrance in your big issue,” she leaned across the writers’ table for emphasis.  “I’ve got a request.”

           Nath rolled his eyes.  “Let me guess, you want her to team up with Reflekta?”

           “Heavens no!”  She got back on her feet and lowered her voice.  “Look, Juleka… doesn’t like Reflekta a lot.  I mean, she’s gotten a lot better with making herself more visible, but…”  She glanced back worriedly as Juleka stood up, having heard the conversation up to now. “It’s more out of resentment than anything else.”

           “Resentment?” Marc repeated, confused.  “How so?”

           “Nathan got to weaponize his passion,” Juleka stated.  “Rose was a twisted fairy-tale witch.  Even Sabrina got poetic justice.”  She crossed her arms, scowling to the side.  “I just made people look different, and I was decked-out in fuchsia.”

    ��      Rose nodded, and added for Marc’s benefit, “She… hates fuchsia.”

           “I would have looked killer in red.”

           “Yep.”

           “Or purple, my signature.  Or I could have made pink creepy again.”

           “I know.”  Rose tried holding her arm, attempting to quell Juleka’s escalating tone.  “We know, sweetie.”

           “Just not all three of them.”  She looked behind her, scanning the room.  Marc noticed that the art teacher must have left the area moments ago. Juleka turned back.  “Who’s fucking idea was it to take those colors and think, oh, let’s mix those together, that’s a nice shade.  Let’s put it on this goth girl with heels and a fluffy rubber skirt.”

           Rose winced at the swear.  “She’s still not over it.”

           “I had eyelash jewelry, Rose!  No one can look threatening with eyelash jewelry!”

           “I’m sorry you all have to see this.  I swear, she hasn’t had this rant in months.”

           “I…” Juleka looked back at the sound of the door opening and saw the art teacher come back.  She lowered her voice to a grumble.  “I mean, everyone got some awesome dark side alter ego, and I didn’t.”  She started walking back to her bass.  “I got the absolute bottom of the barrel.”

           Everyone was still looking at Juleka after her outburst, so no one was looking at Marc.

           Marc’s face was a deathly pale.

           Words she had used flew through his head, replaying over and over and over.

           ‘Fuchsia.’

           ‘Heels.’

           ‘Fluffy Skirt.’

           ‘Eyelash Jewelry.’

           ‘Reflekta.’

           ‘Made people look different.’

           “That was you?” Marc squeaked, slamming a hand over his mouth.

           Rose looked at Marc strangely.  “Are you alright, Marc?”  

           “I…”  He tried to come up with an excuse.  “Excuse me.”

           He kept his head down as he escaped the classroom, choking down something threatening to come up from his stomach.

           He kept his head down walking into the washrooms, struggling to bring his breathing back under control and calm his anxiety.

           He only brought his head up to look at himself in the mirror.

           ‘Ugh, not him again.’

           It was that feeling again.  The one he didn’t have the right words for.  The one that came on fast and strong, but left soon after.

           He thought he knew what it was before, but he had been wrong.

           Someone opened a stall behind him.  Fine, let him look at the creep glaring at himself in the—

           “Marc?” Marinette called out, voice laced with worry. “W-What are you doing here?”

           Marc’s eyes widened in horror.  “I—” he stammered, clutching his journal like a lifeline. “I’m sorry, I’m in the wrong—”  He gave up trying to speak and he bolted.

           And he ran out of the girls’ washroom and back outside into the courtyard.

           And he fought down the pangs of hurt that told him no, he wasn’t in the wrong place.

           And he didn’t stop until he was back at the art room.

           “And anyway, he hasn’t been akumatized yet, but wouldn’t it be sweet if the Gamer went to him and—”  Rose stopped her rambling when Marc re-entered, two events which were to Nath’s relief.  “Oh, Marc, you’re back!” she chirped.

           “Is something wrong?” Nathan asked.

           “Yeah, I’m fine.”  Marc’s eyes widened and he corrected himself.  “I mean, no, nothing’s wrong.  Let’s uh…”  He tried to remember what the conversation was.  “Let’s do Rose’s first idea.  Her and Juleka, but not with R—” he gulped, too many emotions cluttering up that name for him to mention safely.  He managed to choke “Reflekta” out, and he hoped no one understood.

           “Uh… sure.”  Nath shrugged.  “I’ve never tried making an akuma before.”

           “Oooh,” Rose agreed.  “That’s an even better idea.  Let us know if you need help.”

           Rose left to rejoin her girlfriend, and Marc meekly took his seat again, shakily opening his journal.

           As Nathaniel started doodling up concepts, Marc sat across from him, doing nothing except idly rubbing his hands together.

           His hands.

           His arms.  His neck.  His chest.  His legs.  His face.

           His him.

           Why did it all suddenly make him want to scream?

Okay, this is the most rushed chapter yet, especially for being so long.

In this, I’m trying to write Marc as genderfluid (like Hope Morphin, the person he was based off of), but I’ve found during research that fluidity itself has a pretty loose definition, so I just picked one I thought would work.  I’d like to hear some feedback over if I’m doing something insensitive or offensive; this fic is still being edited, there’s still time for me to change things.

Also, I’ve started cross-posting this to AO3, under the username “BenignCyborg”.  I know Tumblr has a character limit for comments, so if you have something longer you can go there.

#miraculous ladybug #alix kubdel #marc anciel #nathaniel kurtzberg #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #julerose #nathmarc #Marc Appreciation Week

[psychicdinneranon-blog]

Venus: The Shepherd’s Star

This is set after a couple months the World Domination Arc in the Men in Black Universe (The MiB AU by @bakanohealthy and @qcatter )where Reigen is a MiB agent, Mob is a powerful alien called a Starchild and Ritsu is his (human) brother.

Summary: Ritsu and Shou get together for a day of showing off their powers to each other. However Shou doesn’t know what he is. And he doesn’t appreciate Ritsu reminding him of this fact.

Shou was lounging, half on Ritsu’s bed and half on Ritsu’s floor in his friend’s room. The bright sun ordinarily would have cast sunlight right where Ritsu was standing, but the blinds were snapped shut. Which was a good thing really, as anyone looking in would have seen several floating objects that were most certainly not being buoyed by string. And a strange creature floating a few inches above the ground.

“Okay so you got telekinesis down to an art Ritsu.” Shou crackled and sputtered a laugh that sounded like a campfire. He clapped as his friend made all of the pencils in his room dance around his head in an arc. “And you’ve managed to command your own dancing army of slightly sharp pencils, congrats!”

He ducked quickly as Ritsu sent a pencil whizzing towards him. It hit the wall and fell with a gentle useless thump onto his back before it was snatched up by Shou’s nimble fingers. He could have caught the projectile with his powers, but he enjoyed seeing Ritsu’s small triumphant grin at “getting back” at Shou. Well that, and the face that he made when Shou ate his pencil was made all the funnier by his lull into compliance.  

“Wha- Suzuki give me that back!” Ritsu held out his hand demandingly.

Meanwhile Shou descended into frenzied squeaking of hamsters. “Finders keepers!” He said though his version of giggles.

Ritsu took a moment to be very glad that his parents weren’t home. Even with the nature documentary set up on his laptop he didn’t think they would buy it with all the different noises Shou was making in his mirth today. He shook his hand, getting Shou’s three eyes to focus on it.

“Come on Suzuki, spit it out! I liked that pencil and I don’t want to see it disappear into your black hole of a stomach.”

“Ugh fiiiine.” Shou coughed a couple of times into his hand before the pencil slipped out of his mouth. He flicked it away and it fell into its place in the pencil holder beside Ritsu’s computer. He shifted a little, flicking his tail before curling it closer to himself. “You know I wasn’t actually gonna keep it, right?”

“That’s what you said about my sock. I just didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Hey, you asked me to help you clean up. Not my fault if you don’t like my methods.”

Ritsu couldn’t find any way to answer that as technically Shou was right. So he stayed quiet. Shou gave an unrepentant silhouette of a shrug before returning back to the topic they had been discussing before the impromptu distraction.

“So, you’ve got telekinesis down obviously. And I’ve seen your barriers so there’s no need to test those.”

Ritsu grumbled under his breath that he remembered when Shou had “tested” his barriers back at CLAW’s Seventh Branch, thank you very much. Shou decided that it was his duty as a friend to respond even with such (true) accusations. “Ritsu Ritsu Ritsu, be careful when you mutter to yourself or people will think you’re crazy.”

Ritsu merely rolled his eyes and tossed Shou a piece of balled up paper torn from his notebook. The starchild quickly snatched it up and ate it, grinning at Ritsu happily and Ritsu had to suppress a smile of his own. He quickly ducked his head down to focus on The List of things people with star powers could do. The whole idea had started with Shou being curious what kinds of things Ritsu could do with his powers. So the two of them decided to have a little show and tell on a day where they were unlikely to be disturbed. And of course Ritsu, being Ritsu, decided to figure out the list of things he had seen his brother and Shou do. And with Shou’s input of a few extra lines they were ready to go.  

The List was carefully disguised as a set superhero powers for a story. Because while Reigen had assured him over and over that the Men in Black would be extremely unlikely to find a random sheet or paper or a diary in a thirteen year old boy’s room, and as long as they kept out of sight they would be fine, habits were hard to ignore and Ritsu was not going to take chances on something like this. After all it was entire list of everything he knew about his, his brother’s and Shou’s powers.

Though as of right now there were only really three columns things on The List: telekinesis, barriers, and light manipulation which had been added courtesy of Shou. Though Shou said that all starchildren could do that sort of thing, and he had just taken it a step further and could make himself invisible.

Technically there was one more column that had multiple lines through it via Ritsu: can eat anything. He knew his limits and he had no desire to try any of the odd things Shou liked to put in his mouth. Especially not charcoal, which Shou claimed was one of the better non-food things to eat.

So really that meant the last thing to practice, and to show off what he could do to Shou, was…

Ritsu smirked at Shou as he slid the notebook back onto his desk. “Okay I got one for you.”

Shou started “oooh”ing as soon as Ritsu stepped into the center of the room. Then he took a deep breath and drew the light around himself.

Shou fell abruptly silent as soon as he noticed the light gathering and shifting around his friend. He tilted his head curiously and curled his tail a little closer to himself to give his friend some room. His three eyes trained on his friend’s form and it wobbled and distorted against the light. Then suddenly Ritsu appeared once more.

Expect this Ritsu had three eyes and all of his colors had gotten washed out of his body, replaced by a multitude of stars and the deep blue of the night sky.

All was silent for a few moments before Ritsu gave Shou a little waved and tucked his hands behind his back. “So what do you think?” He wondered if a silent Shou was a good thing or not, Shou was always making some sort of sound.

“Cool!” Shou made a sound that reminded Ritsu of a big fire, all snapping and roaring in his ears. Then Shou caught himself and switched his tone to something a little more like a human’s. “I mean that’s awesome Ritsu!” He hovered a little bit closer.

Ritsu stood still, allowing Shou to examine him. He still had trouble keeping the stars on his body shifting with his movement, and they weren’t as colorful as his brothers; but he was proud nonetheless.

Shou hovered around for a couple of minutes, examining his friend from every angle and side before suddenly saying. “Okay my turn!” And easily shifting out of his starchild form and into a more humanoid esque one. He walked around the room, showing off the reds and oranges and pinks and golds that shimmer across his starchild form. “Tadaa~” He laughed and spread his arms.

Ritsu made a show of clapping dutifully for his friend, just as Shou had earlier. And with no snarky comment either.

Shou laughed again and hopped around the room. “Oh Ritsu, Ritsu you gotta try hovering now. You’ll become a real star!” He snickered at his own bad joke.

Ritsu chuckled softly and let his powers raise himself towards the ceiling, just as Shou started to preform acrobatics on the floor. Shou looked up at Ritsu and grinned that same grin he had whenever he was about to show Ritsu a particular bad pun he had found on the internet. Ritsu silently braced himself.

“Wow! I’m starstruck!” Shou slapped a hand to his chest before collapsing into squeaking giggles. Ritsu let out a few soft chuckles, more in response to Shou’s laughter rather than him finding any real humor in the pun.

When Shou finally calmed down Ritsu let himself descend towards the floor.

Then Shou peered at him closely, a downturned frown on whatever passed for a mouth in this form. Then he hooked his arms behind his back and leaned away. Ritsu chewed at the inside of his cheek, wondering just what had caused Shou’s sudden downturn in his mood.

Just as he was about to speak, Shou beat him to the punch.

“You’re not blinking your third eye. Is something wrong?” Shou shifted again and looked down. “Do you not like this form or something?”

Ritsu’s expression became puzzled. “No, this is…” He searched for the right word as nothing was coming to mind other than the look of Shou’s unearthly frown. “This is fun.” He finished confidently.

“Then why….?” Shou trailed off before just pointing to the top of his forehead, where his third eye sat.

Ritsu raised a hand at touched at the spot where a third eye would be, ignoring the way that Shou flinched and cringed as Ritsu pressed his fingers against his “eye”. “Oh that, umm, I don’t really have a third eye, it’s just there.” Well that and he kind of wanted it there too, to look more like his brother.

Shou snorted, getting over his discomfort at Ritsu poking his “eye”. “So you don’t have a third eye? Lame, why are you making it look like you do?”

“Well I have yet to see any Starchildren with only two eyes.” Ritsu crossed his arms, wondering just what was so important about a third eye. It was just like having an extra one of the two he already had, right?

“Yeah but, you don’t have a third eye? I mean you can’t even see out of it?” Shou waved his hand to gesture something, but Ritsu wasn’t sure what Shou was trying to say. He stayed quiet.

At the lack of response, or at least lack of the response he had been looking for, Shou grew more agitated.

“Come on, at least tell me you have decent perception with that form.” Shou flicked his tail in Ritsu’s general direction. Then sneakily he started to float the pencils to the side of Ritsu’s head behind his ear, making them form different letters that spelled out a rather offensive word or three.

After all one of the perks of being like them was apparently seeing stuff in a lot wider field of vision.

“Well I can see you just fine if that’s what you mean.” Ritsu started to wonder just what Shou was doing. Then noticing how he was staring straight ahead, Ritsu whirled around to look behind him and saw the floating pencils.

“Hey!” Ritsu whipped his head back to glare at his friend.

Shou did not notice that he had lost his telekinetic grip on the pencils even as they clattered noisily onto the desk. He was too busy staring at Ritsu’s bizarre movements. Surely he could see the pencils as soon as he had started to move them, right?

His tail started to flick around in agitation. “Hey come on now, this isn’t funny. Stop playing around here.” Instead of his normal crackles and chirps and squeaks, he started to let off the low growl of a pissed off tiger.

Ritsu growled right back, clenching his hands into fists. “You’re the one playing around. What’s your problem?”

Shou threw out his arms, and even phased one halfway through the hallway wall. “My problem? What’s yours? Why can’t you see right?”

Oh, so this was about the lack of his third eye. Well he had thought that Shou remembered that he was just a human- with a few extras in the form of star powers- but still only human. He didn’t think he would have to remind Shou about his species, but if that was the problem… Ritsu unclenched his fists and put up his hands in a pacifying gesture.

“Um, Suzuki you know I don’t really have a third eye right? I’m just a human. You’re the Starchild here.”

Shou reacted as if he had been smacked, jolting away from Ritsu and his growl grew loud enough to fill the room.  

“I am not-“ Shou started to growl before cutting himself off. The thing was, Ritsu might be right. He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to know.

“At least I don’t have to worry about the source of my powers coming from the energetic castoffs and radioactive fallout of my brother. You know, like the one who fucked you up so bad that you don’t even register as human anymore to those stupid government officials.”

Shou had once eaten acid before, and right now it felt like it was seeping out of the corners of his mouth. Give him something, anything, just let it burn. Let it dissolve away into nothing.

Ritsu dropped his false-Starchild form. His stricken face made Shou’s wrath falter for a bit, but then he snarled at Shou and Shou’s temper burned again in his chest.

“At least it wasn’t intentional –like an experiment.” Ritsu’s eyes glinted in the low red-tinted light that radiated off of Shou.

“I never asked for him to do the things he did!”

Ritsu barked a sardonic laugh and crossed his arms, and allowing himself to stand up straight instead of leaning down into Shou’s personal space.

“No, but you helped, didn’t you?”

It wasn’t hard to let his words fling like daggers. Wasn’t hard to draw up every single thing he knew and then sharpen each syllable to a needlepoint. And he had to know was that Shou had helped his father once upon a time.

That was all that was needed.

The growling suddenly cut off. And it felt like the entire world had fallen silent as the two stared at each other. Ritsu with his two eyes, and Shou’s three white-hot ones.

Various items around the room were floating, though neither were sure who exactly was doing it.

Standing there felt like an eternity to Ritsu, all of his thirteen years of life compressed and packed away into a bubble. And now it was only him and Shou and he would not be the first to break his gaze.

But then Shou spoke, a sentence that almost could be thought of as a whisper, almost unheard under the new rumbled erupting from Shou. Instead of growling his voice was laced with the erratic snapping and dull roar of wood collapsing in an inferno.

“At least I didn’t decide to be so stupidly flashy and so show off with my powers so much that a whole organization noticed.”

Ritsu froze. Then, with ice in every word he told Shou to leave. “I’m not going to argue with you now. Get out. Now. Come back when we’ve both calmed down.”

Shou’s fiery head brushed the top of Ritsu’s ceiling as he rose as much as he could within the confined space. “Gladly.” He spat the word like it was something dirty and then he vanished.

Ritsu held his position, tense and ramrod straight. Waiting just a few seconds more to make sure that Shou had really left.

Then when he was sure that Shou wasn’t going to pop in again. That the other wasn’t just going to pop his head through the window and say that it was all a big joke or something, anything, that would erase these past few minutes. When he was sure that Shou had left, Ritsu mechanically took a few steps and then collapsed bonelessly onto his bed. He curled around a pillow at his chest and tried not to scream.

 ---

Sometime later, after Ritsu had stared at his bedside wall for several minutes, he sighed and got up. There was no use moping around. He glanced around the room, now much less ordered than before, with pencils and pens scattered across the floor and pieces of paper that had fallen every which way.

Deciding that he didn’t want to stay in here anymore, he quickly set a few things right to make it look presentable- in case his mother or father came back home. Then he set out, letting his shoes hit heavily against the concrete. At first he just picked a random direction and started to walk. It wasn’t until he saw several familiar apartment buildings that he realized he had started to head towards Reigen’s house.

Well, at least he could hope his brother was there. Ritsu couldn’t remember exactly why his brother had been out of the house, though he guessed that it was likely because of his “mentor”.

Ritsu walked up the stairs and knocked a few times on the door before taking a step back. Just in case there was someone who needed to shrink back down before the door was opened. But when the door did fling open, Ritsu only saw Reigen looking as human as ever.

“Hello, may I come in?” He asked politely and Reigen stepped aside to let Ritsu in.

“So, can I ask what brings you to my humble abode?” Reigen’s words were lighthearted. “Or are you planning on becoming my apprentice too?” He teased.

“I’m just looking for my brother.” Ritsu said shortly, he was in no mood for anything but to check in on his brother and maybe as if they could go for a walk together. Like when they were kids.

“Sorry kiddo Mob and Hanazawa are out ‘shopping’.” Ritsu could hear the quotes on the word, but before he could ask for more information, Reigen was already elaborating. “Really I think it’s just Hanazawa wants to drag Mob around to all the cafes he’s found.”

Ritsu nodded, this made sense. Teru had suddenly decided that he liked the taste of cold ice brewed coffee two weeks ago. And Mob, who enjoyed just about anything with milk in it, would be more than happy to accompany his friend.

Reigen gave him an odd look. “And besides, Mob had a thing today with his club. He only came here to change into new clothes and leave with Hanazawa. He told me that he had been planning to be out the whole day.”

Ritsu shrugged slightly. It wouldn’t have bothered him had Shou stuck around like they had planned.

Thinking of Shou made him frown. And Reigen must have spotted something off in his expression because he patted the back of the couch in silent invitation. A dark haired man was here as well, curled up with hot tea and a blanket over his shoulders in front of Reigen’s tv. Ritsu hadn’t really seen much of him when everything was going down with CLAW but he guessed that this was Serizawa, the newest starchild edition to Reigen’s tagalong group. Mob had told him a bit about the man.

Serizawa looked up quickly at the new guest, and Reigen jumped in with introductions. “Serizawa this is Mob’s little brother, Ritsu. Ritsu this is Serizawa, my friend.”

Ritsu smiled politely. “Hello.”

Serizawa gave a small smile and a little wave, the blanket clinging to the sleeves of his sweater. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you Ritsu.”

Reigen plopped down on the couch’s arm, right next to Serizawa and gestured again for Ritsu to sit down. Ritsu allowed himself to halfway fall into the plush couch. How Reigen enjoyed this thing he would never understand.

“So, now that introductions are out of the way, why did you come here Ritsu? Did Mob not tell you he was going to be busy today?” The two knew well enough that Mob could often be found at his mentor’s house. Even more often than usual now that Hanazawa was almost constantly over as well.

If it were normal circumstances Ritsu probably would have just claimed that he forgot and left without disturbing the two any more than he already had. But he couldn’t get some of the things Shou had said out of his head, and well, the experts were right in front of him.

Turning to Serizawa, Ritsu asked. “What do you see out of your third eye?”

Serizawa looked surprised at being questioned, but he answered anyway. “The same as my other eyes. Though I’ve been told that my vision differs greatly from a humans.” He suddenly pointed at something that Ritsu was certain he would not have been able to see if he were facing the same way Serizawa did. “Like you’re not able to see around you? It’s so strange.” He had the same tone one might use when hearing about a mantis shrimp’s way of several more colors than the human eye; except from the point of view of the mantis shrimp.

Ritsu nodded, folding his hands under each other. Well that certainly explained what Shou was doing when he was floating those pencils behind his head.

“Why do you ask Ritsu?” Serizawa inquired curiously.

“Well Suzuki and I were seeing what each other’s powers could do.” Ritsu had no trouble explaining this part, at least their goal for the day had made sense. “And after testing a few things out, I showed Suzuki this.” He stood up and gathered the light around himself, transforming him into a creature devoid of color and filled in with space and stars, plus three glowing white eyes.

“And then he got really upset that I couldn’t see right for some reason.” Ritsu let the light that had warped around him drop away as he fell back into the too plushy couch.

Reigen, who had politely kept quiet as Ritsu questioned Serizawa decided that maybe he and the kid were on the same page when it came to a certain fact about his friend.

“Ritsu, did Shou ever tell you what he was?”

Ritsu’s eyebrows knit together. “No?” Because for all that he had assumed that Shou was a Starchild through and through, the fact of the matter was that Shou had never outright told Ritsu that he was a Starchild.

Reigen nodded, looking solemn and serious. “Well, I suppose that answers my question.”

“Why do you ask? Did he tell you that he was something else?” Ritsu questioned, focusing his gaze on Reigen.

“He told me when I asked for his species that he was human, “like Ritsu!”. To quote him.”

Reigen shrugged and idly picked at a part of the couch. The room was silent for a moment before Reigen continued. “I mean, I had just guessed that he didn’t want to tell some agent that he wasn’t human. But I’ve had my suspicions.”

Ritsu started to put together the pieces of what Reigen was saying, and what he wasn’t. “You think he thought that he was human?” Ritsu could hardly believe that such a thing even entered his thoughts, let alone be something he was seriously considering. After all it was Shou. Shou who had been moving things for years and years, who ate rocks and metal and wood and paper on a regular basis, Shou who would switch between forms like changing one set of clothes for another, be it the formal clothes of walking out and about amongst humans or settling down for the night in his Starchild form’s pjs.

Shou wasn’t human. That much became obvious once you spent more than a day in his company.

Reigen shook his head, holding up his hands, palms up. “No, or I don’t know. My guess was that he didn’t know what he was.” Reigen gave Ritsu a Look. “Besides, Mob’s your brother and you saw how he was when I first met him.”

Ritsu nodded remembering how his brother and he had just thought that he had psychic powers, not anything more. Though he did almost argue that surely Shou, with the amount of times he switched between Starchild and human form, thought that he was fully human. Before a thought occurred to him and he shut his mouth with a click of his teeth.

After all, it wasn’t as if the Starchildren themselves knew what was and wasn’t normal for them.

They just did what they always did. Mob lived as he did as a human, Teru ate strange and random things but before Mob shifted only rarely, and CLAW’s boss, Shou’s father well… he didn’t bear talking about with all of the things he had done in the name of “research”.

“You said that he got upset with you?” Serizawa piped up from his spot on the couch.

Ritsu jumped slightly having gotten so lost in his thoughts that he had honestly forgotten that the other man was there.

Ritsu averted his eyes, staring at the coffee table rather than look up as he admitted with a bitter twist to his mouth that he had gotten upset at his friend. “Yeah, when I had told him that I didn’t really have a third eye- it’s just a trick of the light. And I explained it’s because I’m just human.” Ritsu glanced at Reigen for a moment, wondering if he was going to protest, but Reigen was silent.

“And then Suzuki he…” Ritsu sighed, clenching his thumb in his fist for a moment before letting go with a sigh. “He got angry. And it made me angry too.”

Serizawa nodded and took the blanket from his shoulders. He stood up and walked around the couch before gently settling the blanket across Ritsu’s back.

“It sounds like it might be a good idea to talk with him again. To clear the air.” And to apologize, he did not say, but he was certain that Ritsu was a smart enough boy to think it.

Absentmindedly Ritsu reached up to pull the corners of the blanket closer to him and nodded mournfully. Even without the idea that Shou wasn’t entirely sure what he was, now in his head; he knew that he had been sharptongued and threw out words without thinking. Words that were meant to sting. And looking back at Shou’s reactions, the way he had fallen silent, Ritsu knew at least a few had met their intended mark.

Then Reigen stood up and clapped a hand onto Serizawa’s shoulder. “All right then, let’s go!”

From his seat on the couch Ritsu looked up at Reigen, unimpressed. “How will we find him? You’ve told me before that the Men in Black’s equipment can’t pick up Starchildren in human form.”

“I might be able to find him. If he’s not in human form that is.” Serizawa offered hopefully.

After all, if he could help The Presid-, if he could help Shou then it would be worth it to try. Even more so since he knew that a Shou left to his own devices spelled chaos for everyone involved. Though he wasn’t sure what kinds of chaos causing things Shou would do now.

Reigen turned to beam at Serizawa. “That’ll be great! Can you try it from here or do we need to go outside?”

Serizawa shook his head. “No no, just give me a bit of room.” He walked to the other side of the room and dropped his human form.

Ritsu’s eyes widened at seeing the large Starchild- Staradult? names were confusing- in front of him. “Wasn’t he a lot smaller before?”

Reigen waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah but that was a while ago. Now he’s a lot bigger.”

“Okay, I think I have an idea of where he is.” Serizawa rumbled before shifting back into a human. “I don’t think he decided to go too far from here.”

“Good, now let’s get going. The sooner you talk about these things the better.” Reigen eagerly started to herd Serizawa out the door while Ritsu carefully piled the blanket back onto the couch and then rushed out of the apartment.

He had a friend to talk to.

 ----

When Ritsu had told him to leave Shou made himself invisible and stayed that way. He wrapped the light around him like a cloak in wintertime, like a blanket to hide under. Like the world’s most perfect hiding spot. Shou sighed, he didn’t really think all that much on where he was going, he had just flown away as fast as he could go. He didn’t want to think about what he and Ritsu had argued about, and he certainly didn’t want to think about the implications of what Ritsu had said.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair and he wanted to scream so loud that all the glass in the city would shatter from the force of his screech. He wanted to raze everything to the ground and feast on the ashes.

He wanted to split open the Earth and burrow into the molten center because he knew he could survive a lot of things and maybe the Earth’s core was a place to belong.

Because he sure as anything had lost humanity on his list of things he could be.

Shou crossed his arms as he floated over a park on the outskirts of Spice City. He stared for a long time at the dead fall leaves blowing around on the cement, willing himself to think of anything but what had happened in Ritsu’s bedroom.

Finally he sunk down towards the ground. Hovering still, though this time instead of looking down on everything, he was at a human’s eye level if he were visible.

Shou made his way over to a patch of bare trees and prickly underbrush. And quick as a lightning strike he snagged a crispy brown leaf, only to crunch it apart between his fingers. And he replayed the things that Ritsu had shown him to make him positive that he was not like his friend. That he really truly was not human.

And he doesn’t really understand why he cares about this so much. After all, he had been a strange little nonhuman thing for years and it never bothered him.

But that wasn’t it, was it? Ritsu, by sheer virtue of being himself, had offered Shou another option. One that didn’t involve Touichirou at all.

It really was too good to be true. And here he was believing in something he should have known was a false hope from the start.

As a child he had never cared what he was; only that he was here on Earth. It never even occurred to him to question just how he got here. He had been happy playing around, showing off the things he could do to his mother and his father, and eating the most random of things like lava rocks and cardboard boxes.

And then his mother left.

And then his mom left and she left him with Touichirou and he couldn’t figure out why she had gone. Why she didn’t take him with her.

Shou had never asked his mother why. When they talked he couldn’t bring himself to make the words form in his mouth, let alone even think about what she might say in reply. And he never once asked his father either.

His mouth twisted at the thought of Touichirou and he snarled at the leaf. “Stupid pops, still screwing everything up even though he’s been put away in jail.”

Shou twisted the leaf in his hands- over and over again, growling low and dangerous now. “I mean it’s not like I ever asked to be his kid.”

“And then… Then Ritsu showed up and I thought that maybe- Maybe I didn’t have to be his kid. And maybe I could still be my mom’s too.” Shou made the forest trees light up with the sound of the low popping of a fire about to burn itself out.

The leaf ripped apart in two, the halves jagged.

They fluttered to the ground.

“But turns out I was just fooling myself.”

He levitated a few into his hand, though to outside eyes it would have looked like a sudden breeze merely whisked them away. And then squeezed his hand into a fist, the leaves made a satisfying crunching sound as they broke apart under his pressure.

Shou looked at the leaf crumbs dispassionately as they clung to his star covered hand.

“Maybe… maybe she was right to have left me with him.” The whisper came almost unbidden as he sunk lower towards the roots of the trees. He pressed his back against the tree trunk, sighing heavily.

“Maybe she knew that I was his… and not hers. In species if nothing else.” Shou curled his arms around him and squeeze his eyes shut. His head was full to bursting and his body ached and he was almost certain these hurts surely came from the feelings that were warring within him.

Almost certain, maybe. Just another thing he didn’t know for sure. He didn’t care about knowing this either.

He stared morosely at the pile of dead leaves and trace amounts of garbage. Catching sight of a few dark clouds he glanced up to the sky wondering if it would rain.

He huffed a soft laugh, still hearing the low sounds of fire popping in his ears. Figures that it would rain on a day like this.

“I just wanted…” He started to tell the sky, but then trailed off, at a sudden loss for words. He didn’t even know what he wanted. But it wasn’t this.

He wishes that he didn’t have to even think of this. He wishes that he could see the swirls of color across his body and play connect the dots like he used to with his mom. He wishes that he could go back to Ritsu’s place and debate about what kinds of things hamsters could say if they could talk in human tongues.

He sighed and his tail curled more tightly around him and resolved to just not think for the next while.

 ---

Serizawa had led them to a park about a 20 minute walk away from Reigen’s apartment. It was deserted, as to be expected with the chill in the air and the clouds overhead threatening rain. No person ought to be at the park at this time.

It was a good thing Ritsu didn’t care for much for “ought”.

“So here?” He questioned softly.

“I think so, this is where I felt him in the apartment anyways. He might have moved.” Serizawa said looking around a little nervously as if Shou would appear by jumping out of nowhere and startling him.

Reigen put a steadying hand on Serizawa’s shoulder. “Then we can start searching here.”  

Ritsu nodded his agreement and began to walk around the edge, while the other two walked through the center of the park.

He was only about a quarter of the way around when he heard a group of trees burst into cicadas chirping. Ritsu smiled to himself and went to stand close to where the sound was the loudest.

When he had narrowed it down to about two trees, he looked to where he assumed his friend to be floating invisibly. “Suzuki,” He began a little hesitantly but his voice grew more solid as he spoke. “Suzuki, listen. Could we please talk?”

Shou’s human form suddenly popped into existence a little to the left of where he had been looking. Ritsu still jumped from the surprise, though he quickly recovered.

“How’d you know I was here?” Shou seemed… sheepish of all things as he clasped his hands behind his back. Like a child with their hand caught in a cookie jar.

“Cicadas in winter. Really, you weren’t even trying to be subtle.” Ritsu crossed his arms, trying to look stern but a bright grin overtook his face within seconds and Shou laughed.

Ritsu sighed to himself in relief. Glad to see his friend acting much more like he was used to, and not still overwhelmingly angry like before in his room. The memory sobered his grin.

“Look Suzuki-“ He began but was cut off by Shou.

“No, listen Ritsu,” He paused trying to figure out the best way to word his thoughts before they tumbled out of his mouth. Then after about three seconds, he let them loose anyway.

“It was my fault, I got upset and I wasn’t even thinking and I said those things and I’m just- I’m really really sorry.” Shou clasped his hands behind his back again. “You weren’t the one who I was angry at, you were just a convenient target.” He scuffed the ground with his shoe. “And I’m sorry.”

Ritsu nodded. “Apology accepted.” He decided against crossing his arms and slipped his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “My turn now?”

Shou looked confused but nodded. And Ritsu barreled ahead because either Shou was confused because he didn’t know what Ritsu wanted to talk about, or he was confused that Ritsu was apologizing to him and either way Ritsu needed to say his part now.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten upset and said the things I did.” Ritsu looked down, replaying the words he had used without a care to hurt his best friend. “You’re not like your father, you’re you. And you’ve always been you, ever since I first met you. And I want us to still be friends.”

Ritsu’s world was quiet for a few moments before he suddenly heard a bright laugh and was enveloped in a hug.

He wrapped his arms around his friend and hugged Shou back.

“Of course we’re still friends!” Shou said once the two had let go of each other. “What’s that old saying about soldiers? Those who’ve fought back to back don’t ever forget each other.”

Ritsu snorted a laugh before desperately adjusting his hoodie to hide the stupid face he was making. “I have no earthly idea where you heard that Suzuki.”

Shou grinned widely and poked at Ritsu’s shoulder. “Perhaps it wasn’t even on earth~” He singsonged as Ritsu tugged at his jacket in retaliation for the poke.

“Come on you, that agent Reigen and Serizawa are freezing their butts off out here.” Ritsu started to tug Shou back towards the adults.

Once Reigen saw Shou he hollered to Serizawa that Ritsu had found him and rushed over to check on the boys. Once it was determined, after some fussing- most of it by Serizawa surprisingly enough, that the two were all right; Reigen started to lead the group as they resumed walking. After a few minutes Ritsu noticed that it was a direction away from his apartment.

Sneaking a quick glance at the two Starchildren, well one Starchild and one possible Starchild, Ritsu saw that both of them were content to follow the agent.

“So why are we heading away from your place?” Ritsu asked curiously, wondering what kind of strange and possibly work related answer the man would have.

Reigen gave the group a wide, sinister smile. “Well, since Hanazawa isn’t here to eat me out of house and home I figured we could go to a restaurant.” Suddenly Reigen gave Shou a suspicious look. “You won’t eat everything on the menu right?”

Shou grinned and shook his head ‘no’, knowing exactly who Reigen was talking about.

Ritsu laughed and put his hand up next to his mouth to “secretly” say loud enough for the entire group to hear. “Just feed him a bunch of rocks before we go in. It’s what I do.”

Shou howled with laughter, somewhat literally as Ritsu could hear the sound of a pack of neighborhood dogs start howling in response. And Serizawa burst into giggles.

Meanwhile Reigen nodded seriously. “Thank you for that tip.”

#MiB au #Shou Suzuki #Ritsu Kageyama #my writing #bakanohealthy #qcatter #I hope you enjoy! #Alternate Summary: #You know that 6600 word fic that no one asked for #about Ritsu and Shou's first fight plus alien nonsense? #Yeah I wrote that fic