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maxispixels · 4 days ago

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HANDPICKED

PART EIGHT.

Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

2.2k words

You work at a flower shop in late 70s London and Hobie's being a menace. Slowburn? Probably will be around 10 parts. Strangers to reluctant acquaintances to friends to something more. Maybe a lil' messy?

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven. Part eight. Part nine.

Hobie didn’t leave that night. He didn’t try to, and you didn’t ask him to. He didn’t leave the night after that either, and you had naturally started to buy groceries for two.

You liked him by your side better than anywhere else. You knew he was safe. His injuries from last time weren’t that bad, and besides a few nasty bruises and broken lip, he was fine. Still, you knew it could’ve been worse. You had taken the time to see even the faintest scars on his skin, each of them with a story you could only imagine would make your insides churn.

His belongings started to crowd your flat. It started with jewelry and random accessories he’d leave on your bedside table or on the bathroom sink. You’d find rings and other spikey, leathery things scattered across the floor. Then, it was the clothes. The jacket, the sweaters and ripped shirts. You didn’t mind the extra mess. His presence lingered like the sweet aftertaste of a whiskey with a touch of honey—warm and addictive.

When his guitar finally made it into your flat, that’s when you knew he was coming back. If not for you, then at least for that.

You started to notice every quirks he had, every stupid little habit, the way he never wore matching socks—he couldn’t care to keep them in pairs—how he still tensed at distant sirens, and how he looked out the window wistfully when he thought you weren’t watching. You also noticed the way he seemed so much calmer there. You thought it was the lavender potpourri Rose taught you how to make. She did tell you lavender had relaxing properties.

You tried to leave your bed to him while he was recovering, but he was never going to let you sleep on the ground. It was too cold, he said your chattering teeth would’ve kept him from sleeping. You didn’t argue for too long, even if his injuries weren’t serious and he was strong, you liked the idea of being able to check on his breathing anytime of the night. He noticed every time, but he pretended to sleep through it.

It felt natural, like he had always been there. The only reminder that he hadn’t was that you tripped over his boots in the small entryway, your muscle memory not yet accustomed to the new obstacles on hte ground.

Warm rays of winter sunlight peeked through your curtains, slowly pulling you out of your dreams. You sat up and looked down to your side, where he rested, sleeping peacefully. Hobie was not a morning person, and you knew not to bother him or wake him up.

You took the time to watch him again, enjoying the newfound ability to just stare at his face uninterrupted. His bruises had almost fully disappeared, completely healed up, and you were happy to see he didn’t bring any new ones home in a while.

He was so dreamy, sleeping like that, his face fully relaxed, his jaw hanging slightly open. You wanted to just grab his cheeks and… you weren’t sure. Maybe make a dozen prints of that pretty face.

Carefully, you made your way out of the sheets, getting something good ready for breakfast. As you were turning on the gas, wanting something warm, you heard groggy groaning coming from the bed. A smile graced your lips as you saw his tired form standing up tall. He dragged his body to you like it was heavy, before putting his hand on the counter beside you, resting his weight a bit too close for comfort, his warmth engulfing you. “Why’d you always have to get out of bed so early?” He complained, almost whining like a child, except the child had a morning voice so deep you questioned how your ears could even pick up that frequency.

“It’s almost 10.” You retorted.

“That’s wot I'm sayin’. So damn early.”

You just laughed softly. He was a bit too at ease, almost leaning on your back. You gulped, you could feel the faint blow of his breath against the shell of your ears.

You had gotten used to having him around, but not this close. Still, you tried to persuade yourself this was just a normal, friendly interaction, that the warm fuzzy feeling in your veins was due to the smell of the apple melting with the oats. His fingers found your arms and it almost made you flinch as you tried to stir the pot.

“Porridge, really?” He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or groan.

“What’s wrong with porridge?” You were ready to scold him.

“Nothin’, t’s just tasteless, mushy an’ gross.”

“You’re tasteless,” you retorted, earning a low chuckle. He leaned a bit more against you, almost putting all of his weight onto your back.

Maybe it was his tiredness, or maybe he just couldn’t resist the comfort of leaning into you.

You were scared he’d fall asleep right there. You turned down the gas, letting the oatmeal simmer, before turning around to face him.

He was even closer than you imagined, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. Suddenly, his hand settled on your hip. You froze, every nerve lighting up at once. Before you could process it, he gently moved you aside.

“Careful,” he murmured, his tone soft but firm. “Y’were gonna burn yourself.”

A breath you didn’t realize you were holding escaped as you watched him. Even half-asleep, even with his guard down, he was careful with you—always.

He stayed close, though, not quite stepping away. The air between you felt heavier than the steam rising from the pot, and it wasn’t just the heat from the stove making your cheeks burn. You tried to steady your voice, turning back to the stove, muttering something about needing to watch the oats.

“Shit, I almost succeeded in ruinin’ the oats and force you to eat something actually flavorful,” he joked, relieving some of the tension there.

You started to stir the pot again, your hands feeling clammy and shaky, trying to focus on anything but the lingering tickle of his hand on you. Hobie moved to the window, cracking it open to let the cool winter air seep in. The fresh breeze made the room feel lighter, although it did little to alleviate the heat in your cheeks.

When the oats were ready, you poured the mixture into two bowls, sliding one to him.

He shook his head dramatically. “Can’t believe you’re makin’ us eat that.”

“You haven’t even tasted it yet. It tastes like apple pie!” You defended.

“Pre-chewed apple pie,” he corrected with a lopsided smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “If you hate it so much, I’ll just eat yours too.”

“Oi, now. I didn’t say that.” He gladly accepted the warm bowl, muttering something about “sacrifices for survival.”

Without a second thought, you both settled back on the bed, bowls in hand. Eating on a table was a social construct anyway. Your knees collided, and the silence was filled with the quiet clicking of spoons. He reluctantly admitted to liking it, but just a little bit, and only because you made it.

After some time, both bowls rested on the bedside table, while you two were lounging, basking in between warm quilts and sheets, a few feet apart from each other. You let out a content sigh, happy to sit there with good company and no responsibility whatsoever.

Hobie stretched his arms and cracked his back. “M’bored.” His eyes scanned across the room, before landing on his dusty guitar. He reached over you for his instrument, and you took the time to look at its worn state, covered in stickers and random stuff, engraving and dirt.

“Does that thing even play?” You jokingly asked, and he was the one glaring at you for once. You felt a cold shiver run down your spine. You were pretty sure he knew you were -mostly- joking, but you made a note to yourself to never piss him off.

He started to play something, fingers idly drumming notes without much cohesion, just looking for a melody to click. You watched him.

You never saw him play before, so it did grab all of your attention. He really looked in his element there. You knew he was in a band or something along those lines, but he didn’t elaborate.

You felt like he was trying to figure something out. You watched as his fingers moved instinctively over the strings, the random notes forming something cohesive—until, like a spark catching flame, it clicked. The music shifted, richer and fuller, wrapping around you like a second skin.

It felt like a rush of creative energy, striking like lightning. You thought the few notes he played before sounded good already, but when he reached what he wanted, it was a whole other level. Chords followed each other seamlessly and you found your mouth hanging open catching flies. He was focused fully — locked in even. His eyebrows tugged together, drawing a tense line on his forehead.

It made shivers run down your spine and your arms covered in goosebumps. For once, you struggled to focus on just him, not when the music filled every corner of the room down to the crevices in your thoracic cage. Every fiber of your being vibrated with the strings under his fingers, and hell he was just jamming on your bed.

Now, you wanted to attend a gig. You thought about it before out of curiosity, but now it was a need. You wanted to see him up on a stage, you wanted to see him in his element, observing him in his natural habitat.

Part of you was a bit scared though, you wondered how poorly you’d fit in there, sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of punks and other cool people you didn’t have much in common with. The idea of not fitting in his circle, of him suddenly realising that maybe you two didn’t have that much in common either, made you uneasy.

His music kept your thoughts from spiraling, and you focused back on his playing. There was some instant you swore actual light came off his guitar.

It was only when he put down his guitar that he noticed you staring at him like that. Sure, he was aware you were watching, he had no issue playing in front of people, and he picked up his guitar with the knowledge you’d be the audience.

But not like that, with eyes wide and shining like a kid. He wasn’t ready for that sight, his mouth dry, almost empty of a teasing comment.

It wasn’t fully enough to render him witless, and he gave you the usual smirk he did before saying something stupid, only it was slightly delayed this time.

“Bloody hell, did I break ya?” He waved his hand in front of your awestruck face, and you had to swallow down the admiration of your expression. You felt like a kid caught staring at their idol.

“I—You did not break me.” You tried to defend weakly, your words coming out hesitant and messy.

“Uh huh. Sure did not. I know I’m that cool, but still—”

“You’re… Alright, I guess.” You deflected with puffed cheeks.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s all?”

You bit down your lips, and almost shyly reached to fidget with the folds of your clothes. With a defeated sigh, the truth bubbled up despite yourself.“Okay, that was... incredible. I mean, I knew you had to be good, but that—” You gestured vaguely, as if words couldn’t fully capture it. “That was something else.” You admitted, your eyes going back up to meet his. He looked like he was hanging to your every word, every ounce of validation you gave him, his guard slipping for just a moment, before his cocky grin snapped back into place like a shield.

“You should come to a gig sometime.” He offered, and a smile crept to your lips.

“Really?” You looked out the window. “M’not sure. Never really went to anything like that.”

“Well there’s a first for everythin’!” He chirped and you giggled at his enthusiasm. No matter what insecurities still stuck to your skin, you couldn’t say no to the genuine excitement in his eyes. “My mates n’ me are playin’ next week.”

Your eyes widened. “Shoudn’t you be… training with them or something?”

“Wot fo’? Ya just saw how talented I am.” He joked and you scoffed in disbelief. “C'mon, I know ya wanna see it live.” He teased, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You bit down a shy smile, unsure about it. Sure, you did, but it made you anxious too. “Mh… is there going to be lots of people?”

“Plenty. T's club down Upper Street, maybe a ten minutes walk from yer little flower shop. Looks a bit posh but don’t let it fool ya.”

You nodded, trying to remember even if you weren’t sure yet. “Mh. We’ll see…”

“Nah, don’t pull any we’ll see on me. You’re coming, period. Wanna see you there.” His enthusiasm was contagious, and you let out a defeated smile.

“Fine, alright. I’ll be there.” you agreed, your voice quiet but resolute. For a second, Hobie just stared at you, and then his grin grew wide and mischievous, his eyes lighting up like you’d just handed him the winning lottery ticket.

Part nine.

There is a separate doc called chapter cemetery because of how many time I had to rewrite those

Tag list: @hoe-bie

#hobie brown #astv fanfic #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #spiderpunk #x reader #handpicked

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nyoomfruits · 7 months ago

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anyway. that was a lot. here's lando and oscar being insane about bracelets in the summer fest fic

Lando stops at a small store selling handmade jewelry, propping his crutches up just so, so he can admire some of the bracelets that are on display.

“Those are pretty,” Oscar says, appearing next to him, looking over his shoulder. “I like the one with the shells.”

“They all have shells,” Lando says, looking up at him. Because of their positions, their faces are suddenly unexpectedly close, and Lando can see the soft flush on Oscar’s cheek, the delicate flutter of his eyelashes.

“Well, then I like them all,” Oscar says, with a shrug. “Are you getting one?”

“Maybe,” Lando says. “I like collecting bracelets on vacation or when something’s special has happened,” he continues, holding up his own bracelet riddled wrist. “So I can just look down when I feel sad and remember all the cool shit I did.”

“That’s nice,” Oscar says. “I like that.”

“You should consider it,” Lando says. “It’s really fun. Wait, here, I’ll get you one.” He riffles through the bracelets, finds one with soft, earthy colors and pretty little shells that remind him of Oscar a little bit, and holds it up. “Perfect. Now you can start your own collection.” Before Oscar can argue, Lando picks an orange-y sunset colored one for himself, and then heads to the check out to pay.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Oscar says, when they’re standing outside again, hidden from the sun under a little canopy, so Lando can put his newly acquired bracelet on.

“Nonsense,” Lando says. “You’ve already done so much for me this week, just see it as a thank you, yeah?” He adds, grabbing Oscar’s wrist and slipping the bracelet on. His fingers brush against Oscar’s warm, slightly sweaty skin, and Oscar breathes in sharply, like the movement startles him.

He ties the ends of the bracelet together carefully, and then grabs Oscar’s hand, laces their fingers and holds it up so Oscar can see. “See, perfect! And now every time you feel sad you can just look down and remember this awesome trip we went on that I definitely didn’t ruin for you.”

Oscar frowns at him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he says.

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” Lando says, raising a playful eyebrow and sticking out his wrist so Oscar can tie his bracelet too, desperately trying to keep it light.

Oscar takes his wrist, but doesn’t tie the bracelet, just looks at Lando rather intently. “Lando, you aren’t ruining my trip. I’m genuinely having a lot of fun and I really like spending time with you.”

“Right,” Lando says, feeling a little hot, all of a sudden, and he’s not sure if it’s the sun, or the way Oscar’s looking at him. There’s just something very intense about Oscar’s gaze, the way he’s holding Lando’s wrist so gently yet firmly. The way the rays of the sun that are creeping through the canopy light up his face like some kind of halo. “That’s. I know that. I’m having fun too. With you.”

“Good,” Oscar says, and then finally, finally concedes eye contact and ties the bracelet around Lando’s wrist.

When he lets go, there’s a split second where Lando misses the contact. And then he tells himself not to be ridiculous, and slips his arms into his crutches again. “Alright, on y va, isn’t that what the French say?”

Oscar laughs, doubles over a little, shakes his head fondly. “Yeah,” he says, smiling so softly at Lando Lando actually has to look away. “On y va.”

#landoscar #mctwinks #twinklaren #snippet #drabble

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yeoobiii · 5 months ago

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⋆｡°✩ 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜

꩜ boyfriend!changmin x gn!reader

꩜ established relationship

꩜ you receive a package of clothes you ordered the other day and Changmin insists you show him everything you got. Little did he know you had a little surprise for him as well

or: You ask your boyfriend to try on a mini skirt for you because you love his thighs

wc: 2.6k

warnings: slightly suggestive

a/n: there's not much to say, I think Changmin would look irrisitable in a mini skirt and that's it, that's the plot.

It was Saturday morning. Or was it Friday? Your mind felt groggy as you opened your eyes, your room flooded by the golden rays of the morning hour. Still half asleep, you reached across the bed with your arm, a bit confused when you’re greeted with nothing but wrinkly sheets and an unoccupied pillow.

You groaned to yourself, it’s probably not even 10am and all your sleepy mind was craving were some cuddles and kisses but your boyfriend seemed to have dissolved himself into thin air.

Not ready to get up and go look for him, you tossed and turned a few more times in your bed until you faintly registered people talking outside of your room. You perked up slightly, squinting at your door as you heard your front door shut; next thing you heard were footsteps and they were getting closer and closer until eventually the door to your bedroom opened.

Changmin revealed himself to you, his black hair still disheveled from sleep, his oversized sleep shirt slipping down on one of his shoulders. You had to hold back the urge to coo at how cozy he looked. Eventually, you noticed the big cardboard boy he carried.

“The clothes you ordered a few days ago just arrived.” He explained, voice still a bit horse from sleep.

You sat up, your mind more and more present as the seconds go by, the fogginess of dreamland slowly fading.

“You went to go get it?”

“You didn’t wake up from the doorbell ringing so I went to check.”

Changmin moved over to sit down beside you after he placed the box at the foot of the bed.

“Thanks, baby” you give him a soft kiss to the cheek as a token of your appreciation and you both eye the package together.

“Are you gonna show me what you got, or what?” Changmin requested as he smiled at you excitedly. His favorite part about you getting new clothes is when you’d try them all on for him and you’d decide together which pieces to keep and which ones to send back. There was just something about being the sole audience member to your very own little fashion show that he enjoyed a lot.

“Let’s have breakfast first.” You suggested as you comb your hand through his hair lazily and even though Changmin seems to be a bit impatient, judging by the slight pout that’s gracing his features, he eventually agreed and followed you out into the kitchen.

30 minutes later he was sitting on the couch in the living room, a fresh, steaming hot coffee sitting in front of him on the coffee table. He hasn’t changed out of his pajamas yet, the only thing added to his look of an oversized shirt and gray sweatpants were a pair of black rectangular glasses placed on the bridge of his nose.

As he made himself comfortable on the couch, you went back into your room, going through the box of clothes and deciding which items to try on first.

Whenever you do these kinds of things, you make sure to take your time to actually put together an outfit, not only to see if the clothes fit into your already existing wardrobe but also because it was always really endearing how Changmin would hype you up and point out all the things he loved about your outfit or give you suggestions on how you could elevate your fit even further.

After you decided on a pair of washed out, gray-blue denim jeans, which accentuate your ass perfectly, if you might say so yourself, you found a vest in the same order that fit the jeans perfectly. You rounded up the outfit with a white shirt to wear under the woven orange brown vest, added some jewelry as well and didn’t waste any time to show it all off to your boyfriend.

Changmin heard the door to your bedroom open and his head instantly snapped into your direction. His eyes were already on you, having scanned your body up and down multiple times by the time you walked down the corridor and were standing in front of him.

You do a little spin for him, the vest flowing in the air as it is a bit oversized on you. You also hit a few poses in order to show him all the angles.

“Woah” his mouth was slightly agape, his eyes shimmering. The jewelry you picked accentuated the whole outfit perfectly and he’d have loved to take you out then and there, showing you off to everyone who may lay their eyes on the both of you.

“The color suits you so well, baby!” He complimented, eyes big as he’s still taking in your look “I’ve been telling you, you should wear more colors in general, it kind of makes you look more vibrant over all.”

And that’s precisely why you enjoyed doing these things with Changmin so much. Your boyfriend was really into fashion in general and you never questioned his taste in clothes before, that’s how well dressed he usually is. Automatically, you value his opinion a lot when it comes to the clothes you picked out for yourself and getting praise like that from him makes you flustered in all the best ways possible.

“Also, your ass in these jeans looks phenomenal” he added, gaze lingering on the way the jeans hugged your waist and hips.

“I know, right?” You joined in on his enthusiasm.

“I actually think I’m gonna keep both of the items, what do you think?”

Your boyfriend checks you out one last time in the current fit before giving his approval; not that you’d need him to approve your choice in clothes, he knows that.

“Definitely, the whole look is one big yay if you ask me.”

Before you go and change into the next outfit, you take a few steps towards Changmin, grab his jaw and give him a quick, lighthearted kiss, to which he smiles at you satisfied.

As you decide which items to try on next, your eyes land on a specific piece of clothing and instantly you were reminded of the idea you had in mind when you first decided to order the item.

In your hand you were holding not only one but two mini skirts, one of them gray and the other one black. As you browse further through your box of goodies, you find the black waist corset that was originally part of the vision and you smile to yourself excitedly.

You put on the gray skirt combined with a white, flowy dress shirt and a fitting waist chain that you found in your jewelry collection. The matching black skirt you clasp in one hand behind your back as you step out of your room again.

Changmin didn’t waste a single second to admire your second outfit.

“Oh, a mini skirt? I love it. And the dress shirt is so dreamy.” He gushes over you the instant he laid eyes on you. You didn’t miss how his gaze lingered for a moment on your exposed thighs.

And you had to admit to yourself, you were in love with the whole outfit and how it looked on you; your vision basically coming to life. But there was a second part to the whole idea you’d hoped would be a beautiful addition to your already stunning look.

“Thank you, Minnie” You beamed at him. There was something so intoxicating about how dedicated Changmin was to these little fashion shows; having all his undivided attention on you made your insides do a flip.

“Okay so, I had this idea…” you started to explain, while heat rose to your cheeks.

“Oh, yeah? What did you have in mind?” Changmin seemed instantly intrigued by your teasing, curious what was on your mind.

“Okay so, when I was ordering this” you pointed towards the skirt you were wearing “I couldn’t help but imagine how it would look if we’d be matching.”

From behind your back, you reveal the black skirt to him.

“And I was wondering if you’d be down to try this on with me?” You ask shyly.

It’s not like Changmin has never worn a skirt before, but from what you’ve seen they are usually on the longer side, never shorter than knee length and while the looks Changmin created with these skirts where immaculate, you couldn’t help but wondering what he’d look like in a mini skirt, with his lean muscular dancer thighs exposed. The image hasn’t left your head since it first occurred to you, so you figured you had to shoot your shot.

“You want us to wear matching mini skirts?” Changmin inquired about the obvious, raising an intrigued eyebrow at you.

There was a cocky smirk starting to form on his lips as he watched how you got progressively more flustered at the idea of him wearing the skirt. He could see it was something you’d really like him to try. Even though he has never been opposed to the idea of wearing mini skirts in the first place, he could never possibly deny you a request like that.

“I just think it’d look really good on you– on us both, I mean!” You went to explain yourself as Changmin slowly got up from the couch, stepping closer to you and eventually taking the skirt from your hands.

“It is a really cute skirt” he agreed as he looked at the piece of clothing properly, his tone teasing.

He is a bit surprised to see how the thought of all of this was affecting you, though. If he’d have known that him wearing a mini skirt would leave you this flustered, he’d have done so ages ago.

“So, you’ll wear it? For me?” You request, eyes big as you wait for his answer.

“How could I possibly say no, if you ask me like that, darling” he smirks at you, placing a kiss on your forehead before making his way to your bedroom to change. It’s not like he wouldn’t change right then and there in front of you, but something within him wanted to show off the same way you did with your outfits earlier, make himself look presentable and see what he can find to combine with the skirt to see your reaction.

“Changmin!” You call out to him before he steps into your bedroom.

“Hmm?” He perks up

“I’ve got something else you might want to wear with the skirt, I laid it out on the bed for you. Only if you feel like it of course.”

“Look at you spoiling me today. I’ll check it out, thank you, baby” and with that he disappeared from your sight.

This time it was your turn to sit on the couch, your fingers fidgeting as you were waiting for your boyfriend to finish changing.

About five minutes later you heard the door opening and out stepped Changmin, wearing the black mini skirt combined with the black waist corset you’ve laid out for him earlier, a knitted white vest tucked loosely into the corset, also leaving his arms and parts of his shoulders exposed. You didn’t fail to notice how he had put on a pair of dangling earrings as well to complete the look.

As he stood in front of you, your mouth went dry. You scanned his body up and down, starting at the knee high socks he has put on, traveling further up to his thighs where your eyes got stuck for a moment. You loved his thighs so much, the skin tan and the outlines of his lean muscles visibly even when he was not flexing them. Next thing your eyes catched was how perfectly the corset seemed to hug his waist, leaving nothing to the imagination.

As you travel further up, your eyes fixate on the V-cut of the vest and his partially exposed, delicate and sensitive collarbones.

This outfit seemed to highlight all your favorite parts about your boyfriend’s physique in a manner that made him look like a tall tease on two legs.

Your gaze traveled all the way up until you reached the smug smile he was wearing at leaving you speechless like that.

“You like it?” He asked as if it couldn’t be any more obvious by the way you were drooling over him.

“Yes, very much so. Babe, you look– just everything about this look, I’m–“

The self satisfaction at seeing you so flustered and all of that just because he put on a mini skirt and dressed up for you was evident on his face.

Slowly, he takes a step towards where you were sitting on the couch.

“You know, you seem quite affected. Do you need me to get you a glass of water?” He teased, chuckling at his own remark. He knew he was hot.

There have been countless times where Changmin looked at his lover and was left speechless at their beauty and frankly also at how irresistible they looked whenever the both of you dressed up. Something he appreciated a lot about the relationship the two of you shared though was that you never failed to make him feel the same way. The way you were looking at him right now, he felt beautiful, he felt desired, he felt loved. It was an unmeasurable ego boost and he was surprised again and again how good you made him feel about himself.

He took another few steps towards you, until your knees bumped together.

“You just look… really good. You look pretty, Minnie” you compliment him, knowing the effect it has on him.

It didn’t take Changmin two seconds and he was straddling your lap. As if on instinct, your hands found purchase on his thighs as he was crossing his arms behind your neck.

“I have a feeling, I should wear mini skirts more often, yeah?” He whispers against your cheek in-between soft kisses he places along your cheekbone.

“I’m serious, you look so pretty like this, baby” you keep telling him as you were truly obsessed with everything about this.

Your hands slowly traveled up his thighs, centimeter by centimeter sneaking their way under his skirt, making Changmin hiss under his breath in the process.

He could drown in the attention you were giving him; in the way your touch was so soft yet so wicked, the thought unable to leave his mind that it was him that made you feel this way, made you want to touch him, made you want to caress him, made you desire him.

“And you like it when I look pretty, don’t you?” He said before his kisses travel down to your jaw and neck. One kiss at the time the tension in the air rises and your skin starts to itch, yearning for his touches, for the soft grace of his lips all over your body.

“Yes, so pretty, just for me.” You validate him, slightly tilting your head to give him better access, while your hands were still busy exploring your boyfriend’s thighs.

And you were taking your time with them. Making sure to pay attention to every little curve of muscle you could get our fingers on, feeling the warmth radiate from his skin.

If you’d have known your silly little idea would have let to this, you’d have begged your boyfriend to wear matching mini skirts way sooner.

I'm actually thinking of continuing this and making a slightly longer explicit version, but idk yet.

I hope you enjoyed nonetheless! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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forthegothicheroine · 1 year ago

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Henchwomen Through the Ages

The "ages" of comics are not hard and fast things, and even comic book historians argue where they begin and end. They're more like moods than time periods, and your standard game of Henchwoman RPG will probably be set in a vague time period that could be anywhere from the thirties to today with an overall Silver Age mood. Still, let's take a look at how the roll of the Henchwoman has evolved, shall we?

Goldie is a gun-toting, cigar-chomping bank robber in victory rolls and a bullet bra. She's not called a henchwoman- she's called "Look out, that broad has a grenade!" She's loyal to the boss despite his dumb penny gimmick, but if he ever finked on her in court, he wouldn't live to see the sunrise. There's no Henchwomen's Union for her to join yet, but she's provided muscle for plenty of mob-backed unions. Goldie can't afford to be soft on heroes since they'd be just as happy to throw her off a roof as to arrest her, but she might be wooed by an appeal to patriotism- she ain't no Nazi rat! Her hobbies include matinee shows, swing dancing, and blasting coppers.

Sylvia is a competitive surfer and was a cocktail waitress until they fired her for slapping too many customers. Thanks to the newly formed Henchwomen's Union, she's treated much better by her current job, which usually involves crashing parties to steal themed jewelry. She and the heroes she fights have an understanding- they'll never be rough with her, and she won't check up on them after putting them in a death trap to see if they've died. On her off hours, she can go dancing in the same outfit she worked in- a silver jumpsuit, gogo boots and a purely decorative motorcycle helmet.

Brawny is a member of the Sisterhood of Wicked Witches, and she fights for a cause- or rather, several causes. These range from the reasonable (Save the whales!) to the less reasonable (A free ray gun for every child!) The Henchwomen's Union is strong enough to get her good pay, so many of her problems are philosophical- is she a good guy or a bad guy, and what do good and bad even mean? Brawny has to be a bit more careful than she would have been ten years ago, since death may well stick- but that also means she might really kill a hero, at least for a while, and that's what matters!

Tenebra prefers to be called a Dark Muse, a member of a vampire circle dedicated to bringing art to life, painted in colors of blood. Her eyeliner is swirly and her gowns are velvet, and she wears them onstage in her sideline darkwave band. Tenebra arranges her crimes in accordance with pre-raphaelite imagery, with victims displayed in heartbreakingly beautiful and mythologically-influenced poses. Her boss may technically be the Queen of the Vampires, and she may have a card with the Henchwomen's Union, but her true loyalty is to art itself.

Ferra is a mercenary with a separate pouch for each type of bullet, and she has a lot of types of bullet. Her stilettos are tall but her hair is taller, and she can strike intimidating poses that would break a normal person's back. The Henchwomen's Union had its own back broken by the bosses, and is now more of informal underground thing, but it still hooks her up with real deal bad guys. She'll kill without a second thought for her boss, but she's only one bad day away from turning her gun on him. It might even happen accidentally, since he and the heroes dress exactly the same. Ferra somehow has a heavy metal soundtrack even when there's no music playing.

Ally got a degree in psychology but until she can afford grad school, she gigs as a henchwoman. Her bosses are sillicon valley dickheads, but the first one to offer her real benefits will have her loyalty for life. Thanks to the resurgence of the Henchwomen's Union, Ally gets to wear big stompy boots instead of high heels, but she still has to wear a big day-glo logo on her leather jacket that might as well be a target sign. Her hobbies include pop culture conventions, smoking weed and credit card fraud.

#henchwoman rpg

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megustacat · 8 months ago

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30 Jason Mendal Head Canons - Imagines from someone who does not like him so much

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non-explicit but slight nsfw mentions below

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Enjoys and collects expensive whiskeys from all around the world, also collects cigars - especially the Cuban ones.

Gets a kick out of power - will keep you in suspense because he likes to see you struggle and then releases you as the relieving savior that he is (and yes, I mean that in every possible way).

Has a collection of several black suits which are all the same model.

Goes for Sunday drives in one of his cabrios as soon as there is one single ray of sunshine out - also drives like an asshole and will tailgate you even if you are already 10 over speed limit. Road rage is real with him.

Has a pool table room in his mansion where he keeps his whiskey bottles neatly organized and plays pool against his visitors - he will always win and he will let you know that he is going to win.

Sore loser - especially in competitions he is good at.

As ambitious as it gets - will stay after hours and also work from home. Sundays are rarely a Sunday for him.

His love language is Giving Gifts - loves to buy clothes and jewelry for his partner, but also other trinkets and things that will serve as a constant reminder of him being in your life.

Possessive. Will leave love bites all over you and will compromise little.

If he had to choose a pet he would go for a cat. It must be a black cat though and she has to be well behaved. Doesn’t like dogs and their blind loyalty and especially not their smell.

Red wine drinker. Almost as bad a divorced auntie.

Uses hand lotion and chapstick regularly but would not admit to it.

Reads the newspaper on a daily basis and puts a lot of importance on staying informed and on top of recent trends. Judges you if you are not interested in politics and economics and finds it childish to not stay involved in what is going on in the world.

Apple fanboy. Every tech item he owns is from Apple and he will immediately have the newest tech iterations on launch day.

Goes to opera but is not very interested in it. Sees that more as an opportunity to go there with potential clients and discuss business matters.

Always plans slightly over the briefed client budget and then argues with them. Is willing to go down but wants to test his clients. Can effort to lose the ones who are not willing to invest more, and also gladly lets them go.

Has an older sister, who’s a mean girl. Now that they are older they get along better and are mean girls together.

Bondage.

Is very charming when it comes to networking. Meeting new clients and other potential company leads for collaboration is easy for him and he is a sharp observer. Finds it easy to be charismatic and connect quickly and reads people like a book.

Private jet is love, private jet is life.

Loves to travel, especially with his partner. Not because he necessarily wants to see the world or the big wonders of it but because he wants to physically distance himself from his work. He takes it very seriously so actively seeking physical distance from it is one of his ways to get away from it for good.

Has a private coach with whom he works out a lot, at least three times a week, to keep himself healthy.

Generally puts a lot of emphasis on being and staying healthy, like eating well, working out, ergonomic working with standing desks, regular med checks up, to the point where he almost feels like a hypochondriac. Also loves to regularly have saunas.

Judging and directiv. Doesn’t like to elaborate on decisions, mostly wants to have them respected and followed. Also, very direct and ordering when he talks to people. You will hear him say “Listen here”, “Let’s do this”, “Talk to me” a lot in his speech pattern.

Follows in the steps of his father who expected him to also make it big, like him. Jason always felt pressure to accommodate and now that he succeeded over his father, it still seems like there is still no satisfaction. Does not have the best bond to him, but will always have his father as his biggest male influence in his life, seeking a never satisfied-approval from him and mostly finding frustration and criticism.

Plays Golf. Of course he does. Prepare to be the golf cart princess / prince, and pop a bottle of champagne every time he scores a hole in one. He lets you play as often as you like, but he likes it the most when he sees you cheer for him.

Actively participates in day-trading, and if he can’t do it he has a personal stock trader do it for him (which is most of the time because he is too busy with work).

Has a large selection of guide books for succeeding in various fields in life - whether that’s financials, work optimization, self-confidence, charisma and communication. If he reads fiction he likes to go for classics. Can and will judge you on your taste in literature. Finds poetry a waste of time.

His favorite movie director is Christopher Nolan and he can and will make you watch every single one of his movies. Could discuss Interstellar and Inception for hours on end.

Even though he prefers to have people follow his orders and respect his decisions without questioning them, he wants and needs you to go against him. He wants to have constant stimulation in his relationship, mostly in the form of receiving contra from you. It keeps him on his feet and specifically wants you to be different to the world around him. He doesn’t want you to go too far, and generally wants you to agree with him on basic ideologies, but he needs your backlash - it keeps his love for you alive.

#mcl new gen #mcl #my candy love #my candy love new gen #mclng #jason mendal #headcanon #headcanons #may writes #please dont throw bricks at me

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hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend · 5 months ago

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Day 2: Horizon no warnings. word count 913

Her lungs burn as she looks over her shoulder once more, Still no guard. I might just be able to make it this time. Still Siberite sprints onward, the port town of Thavnair, Yedlihmad, within her sights, beginning to gleam with the small line of daylight over the ocean. She says a prayer to the Sisters that she find someone leaving right away and far from her home, for should she fail and her parents catch her there will never be another chance to leave.

She puts her hands on her knees when she stops on the edge of Yedlihmad, letting her two stuffed bags fall before her. Panting she takes in the muddied silver heels and hem of her blue silk skirt in an attempt to even her breathing. So far, so good, She thinks as she stands once more adjusting her bags, finding them heavier now than when she initially left home, Let’s just find someone willing to take me on.

The wooden pier is already bustling with sailors loading up the last bits of cargo, passengers from who knows where taking in the new sights of their destination, and sellers bargaining with suppliers. Siberite scans looking for anyone that’s almost done loading, finding only a burly hyur, with long dark hair and dressed in a simple linen white shirt and black pants, that stretches out his back when the last crate is loaded onto a rowboat. She pushes past the others on the pier, calling out, “Sir! Uh, excuse me sir!” The man looks up at her and then on either side before pointing at himself. Siberite nods, “Yes you! I must ask you something.”

The man shrugs, “Just make it quick. I got places to be.”

She smiles, “So does that mean you are getting ready to depart?”

“Soon as I get this last load on board,” he points his thumb back to a larger wooden ship with a statue depiction on the bow that she thinks is a goddess of Eorzea.

“Could you tell me where you are headed?”

The man tilts his head, “Final stop is Limsa Lominsa, but got a few others along the way.” He looks her up and down, raising a brow at her lightly bejeweled silk attire and her silver statement jewelry, “You’re not lookin’ to sail outta here by any chance?” Siberite nods, “Look, miss, I can’t just-.”

“I can pay you.” She interjects, rifling through the small purse on her hip. She pulls out a platinum diamond and pink beryl necklace, letting it shine in the first rays of light. The man’s eyes go wide as he takes it in, Siberite giving a smirk, “I take it you know how much you can sell this for?”

The man shakes his head clear, grumbling out, “Well sure, but not nearly-.”

She flips it around, showing off the exclusive Thavnarian designer’s signature, “There’s a matching pair of earrings too.”

“You ain’t playin’ around, lady. You that desperate?” He glances between Siberite and the necklace, teeth grinding as she lets it dance in front of him. With a huff he crosses his arms, “You won’t have much in the way of private accommodation, can’t guarantee safe travel or decent food, but I can get you to your destination if you can handle the rough living situation.”

Part of her recoils at the thought of not having some kind of luxury, be it private sleeping quarters or edible food, but what did she expect? Looking at his ship it seems decent enough size to hopefully allow for sleeping in a storage room, and his tapping foot gives tell to the hasty departure she delays with every second they stand there. A quick glance over her shoulder makes it all the more imperative as two of the Radiant Host question people in the town holding up a piece of paper with her face on it no doubt. Fuck it, “I’ll give you the earrings when I depart, but we have a deal.”

He steps aside and helps her into the rowboat, before jumping in himself. He sits himself in front of her, blocking anyone else from seeing her, giving her a wink. Once safely on the ship, Siberite hands over the necklace, seating herself at the front of the boat out of the sailors’ way, checking for any damage on her sore feet, Note to self these heels are not made for sprinting in the jungle. Finally, she hears one of the men yell to weigh anchor, and the snap of the sails catching the wind, feeling the boat begin to move along the sea.

Her heart races with each malm she puts between her and Thavnair. Lungs reinvigorated with the splash and smell of salty sea as the ship moves fast enough to let her hair fly among the wind. She laughs, her shaking hands gripping the edge of the ship looking down at the creatures she only ever read about swimming alongside them. “I-. I did it….” Siberite looks back to where she came, seeing Thavnair, her home and her prison, become no more than a speck of dust along the horizon. “I actually did it! I’m free!” She laughs and yells out among the crashing waves, hands in the air, looking west towards her new start. Siberite beams letting the ambient sounds fill her hears, making out the faintest of whispers among the wind:

….May we meet soon, my brave little spark….

#have the girl on the very start of her journey!#ffxivwrite2024 #ffxiv write 2024 #siberite akagane oc #a realm reborn vibes #my writing

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hanmaitani · 7 months ago

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Life Lately

PAIRING - Oikawa Tooru x Reader WC - 1.0K GENRE - Angst SYNOPSIS - life lately looks a lot like containing yourself to your room. like voluntary solitary isolation's the right thing to do.

PREV PART | MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

A week and a half.

It had been a week and a half since Tooru had broken up with you.

Only a week and a half.

And only 4 days since you'd said goodbye to the house you'd lived in together.

You sniffled a little bit at the memories and pulled your blanket up to your chin as you stared at the window of your small room.

A small knock on the door made you turn your head slightly to look at the piece of wood. Like you would suddenly develop x-ray vision and see the figure on the other side without having to get up.

"y/n? You awake?" You bit your lip ad stayed quiet at the sound of Toshiko's voice.

You felt bad. She was being nice enough to let you drag a good amount of your things into her spare room for the time being. Refusing to even let you pay a portion of the rent.

"I just haven't seen you in a few days." She sounded worried but you couldn't bring yourself to call back. Instead, you swallowed hard and shifted, pulling the blanket fully over your head as you curled into yourself.

You'd spent the first day at her apartment being extremely productive. You'd set up your room, gotten a huge assignment turned in for school finally. You'd put in paperwork requests for an apartment with another friend.

And then you'd gone to bed and barely gotten out of it since.

There had been no response about the apartment. About the assignment. About the job you were waiting for. Everything was quiet. And so you were too.

You'd left your self-isolated room for the bathroom and that was it. And only when you knew Toshiko wasn't home or was already shut up in her own room.

You listened to the sound of Toshiko's sigh as she walked away from the door. You let out a sigh of your own.

There was a feeling of irritation against your leg and you swiped your hand across the sheet only to catch some crumbs from chips you'd eaten earlier. You let out a quiet, dry laugh, disappointment lacing the sound, and shook your head.

The clock on your phone screen read 7am.

You only buried your head back into the pillows again. Not that it did you any good.

You'd been awake for at least 8 hours, occasionally scrolling through social medias and spacing out. Staring at the wall and then the ceiling and then the window.

You really did hate yourself when you got like this. Containing yourself to your room.

But you'd convinced yourself that no one wanted to see you like this. Not even yourself. With bags under your constantly glassy eyes.

You could be happy for a moment. Every now and then. Forgetting what had happened and laughing. And then in two seconds it could feel like a switch went off in your brain. Like you were his with a brick of reality.

Voluntary solitary isolation had to be the right way to go about it. To keep my friends from suffering through watching me go through this.

It was no different than anything else, you told yourself. You would find a way to heal on your own and then at some point you would be okay enough that your friends wouldn't notice.

After what felt like only a few minutes of playing with the piece of jewelry that used to symbolize you and Tooru's relationship, a ringing drew your attention.

You glanced at your phone again. The clack read 11am.

You swallowed nervously as you say Hajime's name dance across your screen.

You sat up, coughing to clear your throat. Desperate to try and make it sound like this wasn't the first time you'd used your voice in a few days. And then you answered the call.

"Hey, Haji." You winced at the hoarseness of your own voice but Hajime seemed to ignore it.

"Hey, y/n, I just wanted to check in with you. No one's heard from you in a couple days." You laughed softly in response, a half-hearted sound trying to soothe his nerves as you heard him hold back a sigh.

"Don't worry, Haji," you glanced around your room. There were a few cups and dishes next to your bed, the only ones you had in this apartment. Ones you'd refused to get up long enough to put away. "I've just been trying to catch up on some school work." You lied straight through your teeth.

If he knew that you were lying, he didn’t say anything. Let you lie to him about what you’d been doing holed up in your room alone.

"Y/n, you know that just because we're friends with Oikawa," the sound of his name sent a pang through your heart, "it doesn't mean that we're not here for you." He let out another sigh. "Y/n we care and wanna help if we can."

You stared at the pile of clothes in the basket that you’d brought over from your last place. You’d gotten ambitious during your one day of productivity and washed it all, attempting to wash off any trace of him, any trace of the heartbreak.

They’d been sitting there since.

"Don't worry, Haji, really." You would get to it soon, fold it all up and hang it up nicely. "I just need a little bit of time and I'll be all good."

After years of knowing you, it only took a few seconds of conversation for him to know when he would be getting nowhere with you. "If you're sure?" He hesitated, not wanting to give up on me quite yet. "Would it hurt to get out for just a night?" He tried to push one last time.

The words were right on the tip of your tongue again, "Don't worry, Haji." I winced at the meaning behind my half-hearted assurance.

Don't worry, I'm sure that it'll be any day now that I decide I've served my time and I let myself out.

a/n thanks for coming to the free therapy of fictionalizing my irl breakup experiences. yes this actually happened. partially based on an unreleased song by @/leannafirestone on tiktok

TAGLIST - OPEN @all-in-the-fandoms @pearl-blue-musings @winniethepooh-lover

#oikawa angst #oikawa toru angst #oikawa x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa fanfiction #oikawa toru fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #𓇻 Desiderium

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queenofpurgatoryx · 10 months ago

Note

For Aslaz headcanons: after they start kinda dating Asi starts borrowing jewelry and pieces of clothing from Alaz which makes him unreasonably happy because it's as if he's always touching her and also demonstrates to everyone around that she's his (not in the ownership sense but in a "Asi excepted Alaz" sense)

i think i will use my other account @queenofpurgatoryq for aslaz writing so hmu there and give me head canons or requests

He was feeling cold all of a sudden, empty.

Alaz Soysalan was no stranger to waking up next to someone else inside his bed, yet, it was a strange feeling to wake up with someone who he still longed to touch after a night spent together.

He moved his hand a little, the other side of the bed was still warm but he was alone. His bare chest was feeling chilly because he had gone to sleep with an arm drapped over his chest, her curly hair shielding him away from the cold. With her absence, his left side ached with the loss of warmth.

Once he heard gentle foot steps on the wooden floor he opened his eyes, squinting at the brightness of the morning sun.

He watched as Asi moved in his room like a feather. She was tip-toeing around not to wake him up as she eyed his room. Alaz couldn't help but smile a little. Her feet were bare, she was only wearing an over sized white shirt of his that barely covered her tighs. She looked like an organic part of his room and his heart swelled with a strange feeling of possesiveness.

He moved a little to sit up, enjoying the quiet as Asi watched herself in the mirror, checking a spot right under her ear lobe where her neck met her shoulder. He had done that last night, even in the heat of the moment where all he could think was to devaour Asi, Alaz was aware that he was going to leave a bruise with his kiss.

Alaz was not a horny teenager anymore and he knew how to not leave a mark but he was not the most logical person when Asi was on his lap, half naked and out of breath. A part of him wanted to leave a mark to show himself that they were real, what ever they had was real and if he did not fuck it up like he usually does, he could have it for a while.

Asi did not look upset about it, she gently touched her finger tips against the mark, Alaz could swear he saw her lips curling upwards ever so slightly.

His chest ached again and this time the fire he was feeling was something less innocent and more primal.

All of a sudden Asi caught his gaze through the mirror, her eyes widened as she turned around to face him. She was leaning against the dresser, she was obviously blushing which made Alaz grin.

"Why are you watching me like a creep?"

"Good morning to you too, my love. You are full of romance and sweet-nothings as usual." Alaz sat up and his gold chain dangled on his bare chest.

A few months ago a sarcastic comment like this would've earned him a frown if he was lucky (it could even lead up to a fist fght under certain circumtances) now it made her chuckle and roll her eyes.

"Were you expecting breakfast in your bed?" She hummed. "Mr. Soysalan, thank you for gracing me with your presence" she held the end of the shirt as if it was a dress and bowed down a little. "You better get used to things the way they are now."

Alaz shook his head a little as he got up from the bed, grabbing some sweatpants that were thrown on to the floor. "Oh, I intend to get used to it." As he got dressed from the waist down, he could feel her gaze on his movements. She was still smiling but when he looked up he could see that she was staring at his chest. This woman was going to kill him with the way she was making him feel.

"I also think I want to get used to seeing you in my shirt, it is a great look."

Asi awarted her gaze and blushed. She crossed her legs a little to cover herself but the view was still breath taking and Alaz could feel a matching blush creeping down from his neck to chest. "Take my shirts, jewlry whatever you want. As long as people know you are mine." He said slowly as Asi raised a brow. He knew this would not sit well with her but he wanted to push just a little. She was looking so cozy, she was looking like she belomg to his room, his space. It was intoxicating feeling. "You even smell like me, you're driving me crazy Asi."

She didn't object when he crossed the distance between them and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.He moved her head to the side with a gentle hold on her chin, taking in her sent mixing with his cologne, his shampoo, and almost lost control as he gently kissed the hickey he gave a night ago. "Or I could give you more hickeys, since you were admiring it so much."

Asi finally snapped as he knew she would, pushing him away from herself, not so gently. "You are such an idiot," she muttered. She crossed her arms over her chest but Alaz could see she was red up to the tip of her ears and was breathing a little heavier for someone who was standing still. "Are you also going to pee on me to mark your territory? You are a barbarian, all that luxury and high end life and you're still an ape."

Alaz couldn't hold his giggle, he loved when Asi was mad, which only made her huff. She tried to move away from him but he gently caugh her by the wrist. "Calm down Asi Kız, its not an alpha male thing, I promise."

"What is it then, Alaz? Enlighten me," she challened him but did not pull away from his touch.

"I know you are mine just as I'm yours. I don't need to prove anything," he said honestly. Although he would've enjoyed annoying Cesur and Yaman with mischief, he was secure in his feelings perhaps the first time in his life. "That being said, you look hot as fuck in my shirt. Maybe its the ape in me but I blame you for the result. Its not my fault you look unresistable."

Asi tried not to smile but failed. He moved closer again, wrapping his arms around his waist. For a moment he taught Asi would stir up an argument again but she was looking pleased. "You are mine?"

"I am."

"You're not just saying it?"

She was actually looking bashful and Alaz's chest swelled with the intensity of his feelings. How could e be unsure after everything? "I'm yours until you'll have me, anything you want" he said truthfully. Asi had gone through a lot in her life, seen things that he did not want to imagine. He had been part of the things Alaz wished she had never experienced, it was too late to turn back time but he was determined to make it up to her as long as he lived.

She was looking so cute in his arms even her messy curls were perfect as she put her arms around his neck, now they were standing so close he could feel her breasts move with every breath. "To be honest, I would be yours even if you decide to hate me one day. You can even stab me again, you're not changing my mind. I'm still not enough of a good guy to let you go. I could never."

She kissed him with force. Alaz was feeling invincible as he picked her up from her waist and she did not hesitate to wrap her legs around him. It was a scary confession because he knew that this feeling was dangerous, this dependecy and devotion he was feeling was dangerous. That was a topic for another day though, he did not think about anything else but Asi in that moment. He doubted he would ever want to do otherwise ever again.

Hello anon, thank you for this it was so much fun.

you sweet summer child though, i think there is a possesive side to both of them that is a little toxic so i definietly acknowledge they have a dynamic that is not the healtiest but it works. i believe in a health and mature relationship you should know when to let someone go but alaz is not that guy tbfh

And yes i am turk writing in eng bc i see a lot of international fans!! feel free to send in eng or türkçe de yazmayı düşünüyorum hayatımda hiç Türkçe ff yazmadım ama denemek istiyorum skdkdldk belki aynı hikayeyi asinin bakış açısından Türkçe yazarım vs. Talep varsa bekliyorum

#yabani #aslaz #alaz soysalan #turkish tv #my writing #head canons

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crimsonwolf715 · 3 months ago

Text

Old and New Wounds

An alarm starts going off.

“I thought we were done with training for the day,” Todoroki says. “We have to get back to the dorms.”

“That’s not a training alarm,” Endeavor says, then heads out of the training room quickly.

Izuku and Todoroki rush to catch up to him.

“What’s the situation, Burnin?” Endeavor asks.

“There’s a guy breaking into places and incapacitating everyone he comes into contact with. We don’t have a record of him or what his Quirk is,” Burnin answers.

“Alright, let’s get to the scene.” He turns to Izuku and Todoroki. “You two don’t have to come.”

“But we’re coming anyway,” Todoroki replies.

Izuku nods.

“Alright then.”

Izuku, Todoroki, Endeavor, and Burnin head out to the scene as quickly as they can and find the villain coming out of a jewelry store. Endeavor attacks the villain and he dodges. The others join in on the attack, making it a whirlwind of people. Izuku and Endeavor back up to survey the situation. The villain throws Todoroki at Endeavor and Endeavor barely manages to catch Todoroki. He’s helping Todoroki stand when Todoroki gets hit by a blast. He goes flying backwards.

“Shoto!”

Endeavor gets hit with a blast and goes flying through the wall of a nearby shop.

“Sir!” Burnin shouts, running over to check on Endeavor.

The villain goes to shoot Burnin and Izuku hits him with a Delaware Smash Air Force. He turns towards Izuku and starts firing shots at him. Izuku dodges most of them, but one of them grazes his arm. It doesn’t hurt, but his mind starts buzzing a little.

“My Quirk brings up buried trauma. Not always the most handy, but quite useful for dealing with heroes. Always so traumatized.”

Another shot hits Izuku’s arm.

“You’re useless.” “You’ll never amount to anything.” “Useless Izuku.” “I’ll call you Deku!”

Izuku pushes the endless stream of insults out of his mind.

I’m not useless, not anymore.

He continues attacking the villain and while he seems a little surprised, willingly goes back to fighting Izuku. Izuku notices that Todoroki seems to be recovering, which is good. He notices that Endeavor still hasn’t gotten up. The villain goes to attack Todoroki again and Izuku manages to get to him first. He grabs Todoroki with Blackwhip and pulls Todoroki over to him. While he looks surprised, Todoroki quietly thanks Izuku for the save.

“No problem.”

The villain manages to hit Deku with the ray again, but it’s different this time. The scenery around him changes to the kitchen of the Todoroki Household.

Shoto, who woke up to the sound of his mother’s voice, walks towards the kitchen, where her voice is coming from. Rei’s standing in the kitchen with a kettle on the stove. She’s on the phone with someone, but Todoroki can’t tell who it is.

“I feel like I’m going crazy. I can’t take it anymore. Everyday, the child seem more like him. And Shoto, that child’s left side looks unbearable to me. All I can see is his father. I can’t raise him anymore. I want to run away from this life.”

“Mom? What are you saying?”

Rei gives Todoroki a crazed look, then grabs Todoroki’s arm and pours boiling water on his face.

Izuku gets pulled back to reality by Todoroki tossing him into an alleyway to avoid another blast from the villain’s gun.

“Are you alright, Midoriya?” Todoroki asks. “You froze.”

Izuku nods, trying to push the horrific scene from his mind. “Yeah, I’m fine. I really wish Kacchan was here. He would be able to get this guy with his explosions.”

“Well Bakugo isn’t here, so we need a plan because my father’s still out of commission.”

Izuku turns his attention towards Endeavor and he’s still lying motionless in the rumble of that broken wall.

“Is Endeavor alive?” Izuku asks. “I haven’t seen him move since being hit.”

Todoroki glances at Endeavor. “He’s fine. Focus on the plan.”

“Plan. Plan.” Izuku looks around. “Todoroki, do you think you can cause a massive distraction?”

Todoroki nods. “What do you have in mind, Midoriya?”

Izuku watches Todoroki rush out of the alleyway producing large amounts of ice and blocking the villain in while also distracting him. Izuku smiles and uses Delaware Smash Air Force to propel himself into the air. The villain’s completely distracted by trying to find Todoroki among the ice, so Izuku kicks him in the back of the head. The villain grabs Izuku and takes Izuku down with him. The two struggle on the ground and Izuku gets stabbed in the side. Deku uses a little of One For All and kicks him in the head again.

He gets knocked unconscious by the kick and Izuku gets up. He covers the wound with a hand so he can stop the bleeding. He looks around and notices that camera crews showed up at some point and are filming. Luckily, you can only see his head over the ice, so he quickly retreats behind a larger piece of ice. He leans against the ice so he doesn’t fall over. The adrenaline is crashing and he’s really starting to feel the effects of the blood loss.

“Young Midoriya!” Izuku turns and sees All Might running towards him.

He pushes himself off the ice and steadies himself, then braces for All Might to grab his shoulders like he usually does. Instead, All Might hugs him and it takes everything in him not to make a pained noise. All Might holds him at arm’s length, probably to get a good look at him, but Izuku’s strength gives out and he falls forward. All Might catches him and notices the wound Izuku’s actively been covering with his hand.

“Young Midoriya.”

Izuku smiles at All Might. “Did you see the fight?”

All Might nods. “I saw the whole thing.”

“I did good, right?” Izuku asks. “I used my power well?”

“Of course you did. You helped take down a powerful villain. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad. Just… Tell Mom…”

“Hey, you’re gonna be fine.”

Izuku nods. “Just tell Mom that I’ll be fine. Not to worry too much.”

“You know how your mother is. She worries all the time. I don’t exactly help with all the reckless things I put you through.”

Izuku manages a small shrug. The paramedics rush over and take Izuku to an ambulance. He passes out on the way to the hospital.

Izuku wakes up to a familiar beeping and the sound of Bakugo yelling at someone.

Kacchan’s yelling is getting closer, which means that Kacchan’s coming.

Izuku opens his eyes to see a hospital room and Inko, sitting in the chair beside his bed. All Might’s outside of the door with a doctor. Inko smiles when she notices that his eyes are open.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Izuku.”

She starts crying and Izuku immediately starts comforting her as much as he can verbally. All Might walks in with Bakugo and he rushes over to Inko. Bakugo walks over to Izuku’s bed and gently yanks on his ear.

“Ow,” Izuku says, even though it didn’t hurt that much.

“Stop doing dumb shit,” Bakugo demands. “The one time I’m not there you get stabbed, really?”

“I’m not useless anymore, am I Kacchan?”

Bakugo’s frown deepens. “You’re not useless. Get the idea out of your head.”

Izuku nods as Bakugo sits down. Inko’s luckily stopped crying, but she still looks like she might start crying again at any second. The doctor comes in and tells them that Izuku’s gonna be fine. That he’s gotten the blood that he needs and the broken ribs are taken care of. He wants Izuku to stay overnight for observation to make sure that nothing pops up, but that they can go in the morning as long as everything stays the same. His parents walk out to do some paperwork, so Izuku and Bakugo start chatting about Bakugo’s “house arrest”.

Not long after they start talking, Todoroki walks into the room and he looks displeased.

“Hey, Todoroki. Is Endeavor alright?”

Todoroki grabs a chair and pulls it up next to Bakugo. “My father’s actively in psychological holding because he freaked out and attacked some of the staff when he woke up. They said that it’s most likely an aftereffect of the ability since he was apparently hit with such a high powered shot, but they don’t know what state he’ll be in when he wakes up again.”

“Are you worried?” Izuku asks.

“Yes, but I believe he will pull through just fine. How are you feeling, Bakugo?”

“I’m fine.”

“I talked to your mother on the way in Midoriya. She says that you’re gonna be fine.”

“Oh yeah, we talked to the doctors a couple minutes before you came in. That’s why my parents are outside, they’re doing some paperwork.”

Todoroki nods, then gets up. “I’m going to go check on my father again. None of the others have shown up yet so I’ll be the only one there if he does wake up.”

“See ya later, Todoroki.”

“Let me know if you need anything, IcyHot.”

Todoroki nods again, then heads out.

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the-ultimate-tsbs-kin · 7 months ago

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☆TSBS Kin Memories!☆

Foxy

- Dated Puppet

- First getting a crush on Puppet and denying it

- Half Hispanic

- Had a tail (like FC's but more worn out)

- House husband (sorta- I did work, but I did all the housework too)

- Straight (apparently have to clarify that-)

- Lowkey hated Monty (so did Puppet)

Castor

- With Pollux (by earthling standards, both platonic and romantically, but we didn't say things like "date")

- Extremely close bond with Pollux, neither of us ever felt anything remotely close to it with anyone else than with each other

- Pollux loved cuddling and all sorts of physical affection - I did too, but she usually initiated them

- Didn't have the same feelings for Lunar

- Being Gemini felt warm and just... extremely close, in a good way- hard to phrase

- Astrals had a different language, but we knew all the earthly languages so we could communicate with whoever we needed to

- Pollux loved flower jewelry and loved making them for me, so I usually always had a little crown or bracelet or something

- Had telekinesis (idk if that's mentioned or shown on the shows-)

Ruin

- Very flamboyant and fruity, just for fun

- Aroace

- Flirted with anyone and everyone just for their reactions (it was also a great defense mechanism!)

- Me and Bloodmoon weren't dating, but we had- something going on

- Don't know if I really had my own personality because I was almost always acting for my benefit

Killcode

- Very flexible

- Liked to climb up walls on all fours to scare people

- Regularly went on hunts with Bloodmoon

- Actually adored Bloodmoon, who was also very fond of me (I was almost as close to them as they are with each other)

- Had to deal with Bloodmoon throwing tantrums a lot

- Wasn't really fond of Eclipse, I tried to give him the same amount of care and understanding as Bloodmoon but he wasn't taking it so I gave up

- I could not change the smile on my face- it was stuck like that

- Fsr, Bloodmoon was in his newer model in my memories- maybe they were always like that?

Sun

- Had a big thing with Moon, very longstanding, very committed relationship! (Totally wasn't built on trauma-)

- When Eclipse first formed, he had a thing for Moon fsr and only started antagonising us after Moon rejected him

- Had OCD (not my cleaning protocol, I did little rituals for certain things). The main thing I can remember is the lights- before going to bed, I had to switch them on and off a certain amount of times and with certain intervals between switches before it was safe to leave them off. I also had a little mantra I said when I did it. Moon used to be really annoyed by it and I got self conscious and tried to force myself not to do it. Then when he came back after the whole thing with Nexus, he noticed I was still suppressing it and he helped me feel safe enough to do it again <3

- My rays did actually retract with certain emotions. If I got anxious or uncomfortable, they'd go in more. I could technically control it but it happened subconsciously. They didn't spin though

- Wasn't straight- don't remember what I was, but definitely not straight

- Very feminine

- Also house husband

- Always wanted kids

Lunar

- Still hate Eclipse, he unsettles me to no end

- Biggest crush on Gemini and Earth

- Pansexual and ambiamorous

- Actually did enjoy being small

- Age regressed sometimes

- Definitely a femboy

- Loved Earth's hair- very very soft and fluffy >w<

- LIVED off of nutella and ice cream

- Very emotional, never fully got my powers in check :(

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demolitionboy · 16 days ago

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☆ introduction ☆

my name is spencer! i also go by aaron and stacey :) best way to describe myself is the embodiment of music and harmful UV rays ...

im from the united states (eastern standard time), but i am hungarian 🇭🇺 + german 🇩🇪

i use the labels: boyflux, gay/mlm, xenogenders

please note that i might have adhd ... i also have hypersomnia, synesthesia, and an unknown mood disorder

here are some bands i like: fall out boy, underoath, my chemical romance, radiohead, blink182, weezer, the offspring, pierce the veil, green day, panic at the disco, paramore, the almost, patrick stump, etc ... check out my spotify for more!

other interests: metal family, jewelry, animals, nintendo, scott pilgrim, sailor moon, south park, writing, etc ...

this is my carrd! go look at it!

#steamrager #demolitionboy #underoath #intro #introduction #hi #i REALLY like underoath ...#moots?#pls moot me chat 🙏🙏🙏 on my knees please #Spotify

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0owhatsamsays · 1 year ago

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Good Omens Gods

I warn you, this will sound a little bit crazy, not so solid and it will be long, but hear me out! PLEASE! I need someone to hear this because if I am right, everything changes and I need to discuss it. The ball scene. Every time I watched it, something seemed off. But also, it looked familiar. I rewatched it several times until it hit me. If you have watched Supernatural and if you are a fan, then you must remember the episode with all the gods in the hotel. Dean and Sam were stuck in the hotel with them. There were Kali, Ganesh, etc. The ball could possibly be something similar! Listen, listen! They are stuck in the bookshop by Aziraphale's magic, just like Dean and Sam were stuck in the hotel. And all shopkeepers are actually different gods. Also, you all saw how suspicious was Ms. Cheng, right? When this hit me, I started digging. So! Firstly, I checked some famous gods and then the list of shops that Aziraphale is holding.

I think Mr. Mutt from the magic shop is Ganesh. The god with the elephant head. I went through the goddess Isis too, but what made me choose Ganesh is that he is often represented with lots of jewelry, and most importantly, his spouse. If he was Isis, his spouse had to be Osiris and his spouse doesn't give away any clues about being Osiris, but they have a serpent tattoo on their chest. And Ganesh is represented with the serpent Vasuki around him, so his spouse probably is Vasuki. His magic shop in Azi's list is "Goldstone's". I searched "Goldstone god" and the first thing that came up was many Ganesh figurines made of goldstone. And the lucky snake from the list is probably Vasuki.

We continue with Mr. Arnold. We don't know much about him besides he is a musician and a fan of Dr. Who. I just wrote "god of music" and the first that came up was Apollo. Now, Apollo was a musician and something like a doctor. He helped with herbs. See, there is a "herbalist" in the list. Also, Dr. Who - Doctor - got it? :D Moving on... Mrs. Sandwich. The only thing we know about her is that she is ... a seamstress. And the seamstresses worshipped Aphrodite, so maybe she's Aphrodite. EDIT: The other possibility is to be Freya from Norse mythology and we know Neil Gaiman has a book about it. She is almost the same. Also, it would explain the feathers on her head. Freya had a cloak made of falcon feathers. Next - Mr. Brown. He is most suitable to be Mercury: The name "Mercury" is possibly related to the Latin words merx ("merchandise"; cf. merchant, commerce, etc.), mercari (to trade), and merces (wages). Mercury was the god of financial gain, commerce, eloquence, messages, and communication. The most suspicious of all was Ms. Cheng. And we know nothing about her. Only that she is Chinese and has a husband. There is one goddess that makes some sense to be her. It's Chang'e. The names are close, and Chang'e doesn't care much about her husband. Long story short, he acquired two elixirs for immortality - one for him and one for her - but she drank both of them, leaving him with nothing. Why is this relevant? We see Ms. Cheng being rude to her husband in the X-ray deleted scenes. She even hit him with a fan.

Now, Maggie and Nina. I think Nina might be Kali. And I say it only because of her looks and because it is said that Kali was the goddess of death, time, and doomsday. And where does Nina work? Right! Give me coffee or give me death. What days are coming? Doomsday? I am gonna talk about time really soon in another post, so I won't go there now. As for Maggie, she was the toughest to guess, but probably Athena, because Nina described her as the bravest person and Athena is the goddess of bravery and the goddess of war. Maggie is the one who invited the demons in and fought with them. Another thing about her is that she said she had brothers. Athena has more than 20 siblings. Also, one symbol of Athena is the olive tree.

I think there is no need to explain what I am showing you here, right? Oh, and one more thing about Nina, which I am not sure about because I can't see it well - at the bottom of Azi's list, about Nina's coffee shop he wrote just "No coffee". At least this is how I read it. Only death then? Kali - death?

Only Justine from Marguerite's and the Italian on the list - I have no idea. Maybe I will find something with time, or if you have read the whole thing and think you can help me figure it out - great! I will be waiting. But if all this turns out to be true, it will explain why everything seems a little bit staged, off, strange, or whatever you want to call it.

#good omens #hyperfixation #tv shows #good omens 2 #neil gaiman #good omens theory #good omens analysis #go2 #gods #mythology #deities #need to discuss #supernatural

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moonlightdreams99 · 4 days ago

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Usagi's Stupid Ninjago Headcanons Part 3: Kai & Nya

Kai

5ft, 10in. He's the second tallest of the ninja.

At the start of the series, he was 18. By the end of it, he was 25. He's 32 in Dragons Rising.

Him and Nya are Chinese Filipino and they both speak Tagalog.

The definition of a bisexual disaster.

A cosmetic company in Ninjago City named an entire brand of hair gel and eyeliner after him. They pay him a royalty check for it every month.

He taught himself how to cook when he was still a kid. He had to so he could make food for himself and Nya. He's great at it too. Whenever Zane can't cook, he takes over the kitchen to spare them all from Cole's cooking.

He still blacksmiths from time to time. He used it to make metal charms as gifts for all of his friends. Each one looks like their emblem. Everyone carries them everywhere.

Pretty good with kids most of the time. He and Nya used to look after the other children in Jamanakai Village when they were still living there.

He has a lot of scars.

He's kept a journal for years and he writes down everything in it.

He cusses like a sailor because you cannot tell me that if this wasn't a kids show, he wouldn't be dropping the F bomb.

Jay introduced him to visual novels and dating sims and he's really critical of all the ones he likes. He will give anyone who asks entire college essays about why one character's route is better than the other.

Says he doesn't remember anything that happened when he was under the control of the Staff of Elements. But he does and he wishes he didn't.

After Possession, he doesn't like thinking about how he wanted to be the Green Ninja all those years ago. How close he came to turning into Morro......

He still spends time with Ray and Maya but he hasn't opened up to them as much as he would've liked. A part of him is afraid that as soon as he does, they'll disappear again.

He still runs the dojo he opened in Crystalized.

Nya

5f, 9in. She's an inch taller than Zane and 3 inches taller than Jay.

She's 17 during the pilots, 24 by the end of Crystalized and 31 in Dragons Rising.

Our pansexual queen. <3

Claims she can talk to fish. No one knows if she's joking or if that's something she can do because of her elemental powers. Kai tried asking Maya about it and she gave him a non-answer.

She has a big jewelry collection but she only wears it for special occasions. Most of it came from Maya.

Thinks that seadragons are the cutest things ever. Jay got her a giant plush one as a birthday present.

She loves drag racing. If she weren't a ninja, she would've definitely become one.

I don't know if gundams are a thing in Ninjago but if they do, she definitely builds model kits.

She tried to spend more time with Ray and Maya after she came back from being the ocean. No one has seen them since the Merge and she feels guilty for not opening up to them sooner.

When Lloyd was a kid, she would take him out to Doomsday Comix or out to lunch whenever he needed a break from training.

Has girl's nights with Skylor and Pixal. They hang out, watch movies, , eat junk food and go out exploring Ninjago City.

Dreamed of exploring Ninjago and traveling around the world when she was a kid. She still hopes she'll be able to do it someday and take Jay with her.

She doesn't like talking about it but she has nightmares pretty often. Sometimes about Nadakhan and Delara. Sometimes about Garmadon's colossus "killing" Kai, Jay, Zane and Cole or about all the ways they could've gotten hurt or died during missions.

She was hesitant to get near the ocean after she came back from being merged with it. She's more comfortable with it now but sometimes, she can still hear it calling to her....

She still works at the autobody shop and she's pretty much the manager at this point.

#Ninjago #Kai Smith #Nya Smith

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watchingspnagain · 10 months ago

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Rewatching Good God, Y'All

Welcome to “But Does One Simply Drive an Impala into Mordor?: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

Up today, s5e2: Good God, Y’All.

The boys are worried about Bobby, who has lost the use of his legs and won’t speak. Dean shows off an x-ray of their very pretty carved ribs just before Cas calls Sam to find out where they are because, oh right, the pretty ribs mean they’re hidden from *all* angels, even pocket angel. Cas reveals that he’s cut off from Heaven and thus can’t heal Bobby (who has something to say about that—yay! He’s talking!) because then they couldn’t save healing him for some more dramatic time later on. Cas wants Dean’s samulet because it supposedly glows hot in the presence of orcs God. Dean doesn’t want to give it up, but Cas Dom-Voices him into it. Rufus calls Bobby for help in a town overrun by demons. The boys go to check it out, running into Ellen and Jo, who are hunting together now. Seems like everyone in this town thinks everyone else is a demon. Turns out no one is. The first of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, War, has arrived, and he’s making different groups of townsfolk think the other groups are possessed. Sam and Dean each figure this out independently because they are both smarties. They cut War’s ring from his finger, vanquishing him and gaining a piece of jewelry that, huh, seems like maybe it might be important later. At the end of the episode, Dean confesses that he's not sure he can trust Sam anymore, and they decide to go their separate ways. Uh-huh.

Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here. Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

[and we begin:]

Mace:

oh, you’re a sword, DeanDean, don’t fight it

Lor:

LOLOLOLOL

Lor:

oh good. Jo.

Mace:

UGH

Mace:

BACK RUB

Mace:

I bet Dean gives extremely good back rubs

Lor:

LOL

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

they're xrays, Sam. says that right there

Mace:

god, even their flipping ribs are pretty now

Mace:

HAHAHAHAHA OMG

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

OMG LOOKIT HIM STRIDING

Mace:

omg is this the scene where Misha falls to the floor to disappear?

Mace:

YES

Lor:

I think it is!

Lor:

"Say again."

Mace:

remind me what’s wrong with Bobby?

Mace:

“I heard that” HAHAHA

Lor:

he's paralyzed from the waist down but I kinda forget why already? (Ed: We remembered eventually.)

Mace:

cripes, Cas is extra gorgeous here

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

oh Cas, oh honey, you're so earnest, baby

Mace:

HE’S NOT ON ANY FLATBREAD

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

"no he's not on any flatbread"

Lor:

HAHAHA

Lor:

CHUCKLES

Mace:

“literally at the end of days” oh Dean, you’ve got, like 10 years left at least

Mace:

YES

Lor:

I love that Dean is SO anti-God all through but later when he actually meets him and confirms that he does not in fact care, it wrecks him so much

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

YEP

Mace:

get a little closer there, Cas

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

he's SO STERN i cannot

Mace:

YES

Lor:

OMG that LOOK when he turns to Dean

Mace:

YES

Mace:

“NO”… “alright I guess”

Mace:

that didn’t take long

Lor:

"may I borrow it?" "NO" *VOICE* "Dean, give it to me" *dean does*

DOM VOICE

Mace:

that’s not exactly how you play hard to get Dean

Lor:

LOLOLOLOL

Mace:

“now I feel naked” “I’ll be in touch” NICE

Lor:

"now I feel naked" haaaahahahahahah

Lor:

"tell him to send legs" HAAAAHAHAHAHAHA

Mace:

HAHAHA

Lor:

I refuse to believe that they did not know what they were doing with Dean and Cas right from the start

Mace:

meh, I think the writers are mostly idiots, to be honest, and stumbled onto the good stuff. the rest is all on Jensen, Jared, and Cas as amazing actors

Lor:

lolololol I love the establishing shot: snowy mountains, must be Colorado, right?

Lor:

I MEANT Jensen and Cas

Lor:

omg DUDE we BOTH called Misha Cas haaaaahahahahaha

Mace:

oh AHA! well yes then

Mace:

OMG HAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

omg the tone of the music with the destruction

Mace:

quality soundtrack choice

Lor:

omg I LOVE when music goes from undiegetic to diegetic

Mace:

YES

Mace:

“hello boys” NOT YOUR LINE, ELLEN

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

ALSO HOW ABOUT A HUG

Lor:

okay there it is. jeez

Mace:

HAHAHHA

Lor:

hahahaha the slap

Mace:

I don’t like her, but I do like that she calls Dean “kid"

Mace:

YES

Lor:

and the "yes, ma'am"

Mace:

YES

Lor:

agreed. I always love it when someone treats him like they love him, especially WHILE they are tearing him a new one, but Ellen as a character? meh

Mace:

exactly

Mace:

just because she’s a pregnant woman, Dean, doesn’t mean she can’t handle herself. Jesus.

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

although I do suspect that THAT pregnant woman might not be able to

Mace:

well sure but I’m trying to make a point here, Lor

Lor:

I DO apologize. *drags over a box for you*

Lor:

that canned soup probably has enough salt in it to be useful

Mace:

*checks to see if box has cookies in it before realizing it’s full of soap*

Mace:

HAAAAAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOLOL

Lor:

*hands you another, smaller, box, this one WITH cookies*

Mace:

YAS

Mace:

*munches*

Mace:

Sammy, no. Don’t lick that.

Lor:

look, in GENERAL, Sammy, don't like knives

Lor:

*lick. dammit

Lor:

like them all you want

Mace:

SNORK

Mace:

WHY is it that every pregnant character on the screen is constantly holding her belly. NO ONE ACTUALLY DOES THAT

Lor:

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

Lor:

ooooof, Dean

Lor:

I feel like if I had ever been pregnant, I would have used the shelf as a good place to rest the snacks

Mace:

YEP

Mace:

been there

Lor:

I mean, the boobies work, surely the baby bump would too

Mace:

works pretty good until the kicking starts

Lor:

LOL

Lor:

now I'm picturing chips just like flying out of the bowl

Mace:

SNORK

Mace:

ope, fret boys

Mace:

not really any of your business, Ellen

Lor:

okay, so Sam is incredibly hot when he gets angry and shoves people and Dean is incredibly hot shoved up against a wall. it's fine. I'm fine

Mace:

HAHAHAHA RIGHT?!

Lor:

also SOME GIRL? Have you met them? They never like the same girls

Lor:

and girls are always about one of them or the other

Mace:

right?! she’s a dummy

Lor:

WATCH THE SHOW ELLEN

Mace:

HAHAHAHA

Lor:

YAY RUFUS

Mace:

YES

Lor:

oh Dean

Mace:

right?

Lor:

"random's good"

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"this isn't x-files, pal"

Mace:

Ellen really should be a great character. strong woman and all, but she just… sucks. and I can’t really figure out what it is about her that doesn’t work

Mace:

Lor:

right? she should be great but she's just kind of annoying

Mace:

is it the actor? the writing? maybe a little of both

Lor:

lol the poor pastor

Lor:

yeah, probably a bit of both

Mace:

HAHAHA YEP

Mace:

War is excellent, on the other hand

Lor:

YES

Mace:

War’s a daddy and I’m okay with that

Lor:

RIGHT?

Mace:

“that’s adorable” HA

Lor:

LOL

Mace:

Oh Sammy, don’t listen to him

Mace:

look at those puppy eyes

Lor:

RIGHT?!

Mace:

army dude is also a cutie

Lor:

he really is

Mace:

“genius” I love it

Lor:

YES

Mace:

Rufus is master-level snark

Lor:

"stop firing usually means stop firing" I LOVE HIM

Lor:

YES

Lor:

Frodo of the niiiiiine fingers

Mace:

War calling them kiddos to parallel Ellen

Mace:

HAHAHAHAHA

Lor:

YEP

Mace:

omg Dean’s LotR reference!

Mace:

You two

Lor:

"so pit stop at mount doom" DEEEAN

Lor:

YAAAAAAS

Mace:

Oh Sammy, I love you just the way you are

Lor:

well of course

Lor:

omg Dean's squinty face before he agrees

Mace:

UGH THESE TWO

Lor:

and his freeeeckles

Mace:

you KNOW you don’t want to be apart, boys. just STOP

Lor:

RIGHT?

Lor:

maybe someone should knock their heads together

Lor:

OMG offering Sam Baby

Mace:

THEY TOTALLY SHOULD

Mace:

YES

Lor:

"you too, Sammy" OMG BOYS STOOOOOP

Mace:

FRUSTRATION NOISES

Lor:

LOL YES

#watchingspnagain #watchingspnagain 5x02 #spn #supernatural #spn meta #spn spoiler #spn 5x02 #watchingspnagain fraught #watchingspnagain handwaving #watchingspnagain music #watchingspnagain treatment of female characters

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casicroaks · 1 year ago

Text

Tiffany Valentine has two things in her mind: love and murder. The origins of the brains behind the infamous Lakeshore Strangler and the string of broken hearts she left along her way to Chicago, interwoven with the development of the tempestuous relationship between her and a certain Charles Lee Ray.

CHAPTER 2

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

NEW JERSEY, 1984

“Honey, I’m home!” I said in a sing-song voice as I stepped into my apartment. Not that anyone would answer. I lived alone. I just liked saying that out loud.

I hung my coat and threw my heels off to the side, groaning from having to walk all the way from my workplace to my home. It wasn’t that far, but my last good pair of shoes had fallen to pieces a week ago, and I was still softening the new replacements. I knew I needed to go shopping one of these days. I had only three pairs of shoes: the new red heels, some indoor slippers, and the old leather boots which I was still figuring out a way to wear with my everyday outfits. I really had no excuse not to go get myself some new shoes… Especially since, once a week, I passed by the big shopping malls on my way back home, when it was all lit up with its neon lights and looking real pretty. I admired the clothes, the shoes, the jewelry in their glass cases, trying my best to hype myself up to at least consider buying myself something, like a little present from me to me… But there was nothing I really wanted. Despite working at a beauty parlor, I didn’t care much about looking beautiful anymore. I had the same dresses as before, and I was content with them. Not happy, really. I was never truly happy with the way I looked. Just content. And spending that money I was saving (and that I always ended up spending on groceries and rent) on dresses I didn’t have any interest in just seemed like a stupid idea. Still, I went to the mall every week, like a parishioner returning to the church. It was just something to do.

The little mirror I had nailed to the wall beside the front door gave me back a blur, and I silently chided myself for not stopping by to fluff my hair and check on my makeup. Just like the shoes, even if I had gotten my hair styled quite some months ago (as soon as I had my last break-up, actually) there was still a slight discomfort to seeing it. Like I didn’t quite recognize myself yet, and I didn’t know when I would. I had tried a new hair dye, for once: I had already been blond, brunette… Anything but going back to my original black color. So, red it was. Bright red, like my mother’s.

I read once that the reason women use red lipstick instead of any other color was to attract attention to the lips, since red’s the most eye-catching color in the spectrum. Going into my little kitchen I wondered, was I desperate for attention? Yeah, probably. Was I horny as hell, already tired of my own hand and too broke for a battery-operated alternative? That too. If there’s something I learnt from working at a beauty salon is that a change of image does wonders for a woman. Even something like dyeing your hair can help you feel like a whole different person. And for the first few days, it felt like that. I tried being happier, smiling more, adding a little skip to my step, doing all the bullshit self-help articles, radio therapists and motivational speakers on TV said one should do to be happy. Tough luck. I kept wanting to leave everything, my job, my apartment, change my name and start over somewhere else again (as if that would really change anything), or just skip town and scream in some field or abandoned grounds until my lungs gave up. Like that had worked so well last time. I was so goddamn pissed at everything, and there was a point in which I couldn’t just chalk it up to my breakup. The money always ran out, even when my pay wasn’t that bad, even as I tried to eat less, watch less TV, stop going to the movies, cut down on everything but the most basic expenses. And then, then I felt like I was starving, and it was a constant pull and push between spending my week’s earnings on convenience store snacks or loading it all inside my mattress, saving up for… Something.

Really, I simply had nothing to look forward to.

Maybe I should get a cat, I thought, opening the fridge and having a gulp of milk straight from the carton, before realizing it tasted sour and spitting it out. Well, maybe a dog, then… But I remembered what Arlene had told me not too long ago. A dog, a cat, a bird –they can and will all just up and leave when they get the chance. So much for loyalty. And cages were not cheap.

I remembered I still had some discount tequila left. I had been smart then, and bought two bottles. I was about to pour myself a glass, ready to change into my nightdress and spend the night watching TV, maybe order some Chinese food, and fall asleep in the couch, and do the same the next day, though most likely without the tequila. Or I could go straight to bed (I had heard that sleeping early did wonders for one’s skin) but I wasn’t tired, just exhausted… What I wanted most was to turn off my brain. Turn off my brain, and have a good screwing. By lack of a warm body to share the place, though, the best option I had was to lock myself up in my drab apartment, find the energy to try and finger myself, and watch TV. What else was I gonna do that night, and the weekend after that, after all? Listen to my mother’s voicemails? Eat three bowls of cereal for dinner again? Try to hook up with some rando who might just keep me occupied for a couple hours?

Yeah, that was exactly what I did.

I sighed, leaving the bottle on the cabinet, and went back to put on my coat and my shoes.

“Another night, another day goes by… I never stop myself to wonder why…” I hummed to myself, giving my lipstick one last touch up in front of the bathroom mirror. “You help me to forget to play my role…”

One could say I was looking for love in all the wrong places. And that was probably right. I knew I was looking for some sort of commitment, but… Let’s just say that searching for Prince Charming in a pig pen just isn’t the best way to go about it. I was ashamed of it, I’m not gonna lie. I had hoped I would never have to get into that sort of situations. After all, I was never interested in short-term-relationships, and I liked to think that I was better than casual sex… Not that any of the people I met up with were particularly, interestingly nasty anyways. I knew what I was getting myself into, what sorts of places I became a regular of. And, admittedly, I met some handsome men, a few pretty girls. Don’t get it twisted, though; always used protection, always checked they didn’t have the shadow of a wedding band. I was killing time, but at least I was gonna be careful about it. Just because I dyed my hair red and was feeling blue didn’t mean I became someone else completely. It just meant now I was a redhead, and feeling blue.

“I, I live among the creatures of the night… I haven’t got the will to try and fight…” I sang quietly, biting down on my cigarette’s filter to keep it from being blown away by the wind on the street.

It was a cold October night, and I felt the upcoming winter on my bare legs. The shops were already decked out in their Halloween décor, to my delight. I had made paper garlands and a few other decorations to make the beauty parlor extra spooky for the festivities, but Shelley had told me that it wasn’t necessary… That people didn’t really care about all that when they went to have their nails done. What a bunch of bull. Everyone loved Halloween! And those who didn’t, they were just buzzkills. I hang the decorations anyway. But not even Halloween managed to lift my spirits.

Not too far from the dance floor of the club, just enough for me to people-watch comfortably, I nursed something called a Blood and Sand instead of my usual margarita, having decided to treat myself for once. All things considered, I was simply expecting a mediocre screwing, to be kicked out of some guy or gal’s house which I would never set foot in again, and to head back to my apartment just in time to eat Chinese and cry while watching All That Heaven Allows on the late-night programming.

I had no idea that this was the night that would change my life.

“Hey, Red –what’s new?”

I was approached by not one guy, but by a guy and his girl.

“… Is there anything I can do for you?” I asked the man who had made the question.

Of course, though, I knew what they had in mind. The blonde was kinda cute, with her big eyes and smug grin like a Barbie doll, in an easy-to-forget eye candy, background-dancer-in-a-music-video kind of way. But the guy, with the triple whammy of rather long hair, black suit and tie, and having somehow both childish and sharp features, had a much more interesting sort of odd charisma to him. He was a weirdo, no doubt about it. But I liked his style. I never told him this, but he reminded me a little bit of Heath. Maybe he just happened to be a bit high when we met, like Heath used to be constantly. Maybe it was the hungry eyes, or something in the smile… I didn’t know why, but even as I kept my sight on the girl, I was always aware of his presence, even as he walked behind us on the way to the hotel.

The blonde (I think her name was Leah, or something?) was clearly a newbie. It seemed like she had learnt anything about fucking a girl through some porn movie or something. She kissed me, but not much else; she moaned and sighed and giggled as if she was having a ball, writhing around me, rubbing herself against me. I had barely even touched her. All tease, no action. I knew her type all too well from maybe two or three bi-curious girls I had met through the same methods. Too overexcited, too self-conscious, too eager to please… Please herself, that is, and in this case, please the guy watching. She turned to glance at him every few seconds, as if she needed constant approval to continue. Didn’t seem to be thinking about me at all. It was easy to assume how that would translate when we actually did something. So much for the red hair, I thought, but I tried to have fun, regardless, as I pushed her down and climbed on top of her, pulling that tacky necklace off of her, showing her how it was done. I was a bit disappointed the guy had decided he was just gonna watch, but to each his own, I thought. Maybe he’ll come in later, when we’re already turned on, I guessed.

So… Well, if I was surprised by being approached at the bar by the two of them, I was straight-up baffled when the guy grabbed my shoulder and pulled me off the bed and onto my knees.

“Hey—!”

For a second I thought this meant we would be switching, which honestly was a relief, since despite my best efforts I was getting a bit tired of her. But then he put his hand on my nape and stood over me, and I saw what he had in his right hand. The least subtle knife I’d seen. Where and how had he managed to smuggle it in? I smiled. So that was the plan, I realized. I glanced at the blonde, letting it all sink in. Had I stepped into some kinky Bonnie and Clyde situation? Were they into some fetish stuff we hadn’t discussed beforehand? But then I looked back at the guy, into his cold blue eyes, and I finally understood this was no roleplay. He wanted to kill me, stab me until I dyed the carpet deep red with my blood. So that was what turned him on. No wonder he had seemed as bored as I was feeling so far.

And I was feeling rotten enough to actually be thrilled by this.

“Do it,” I told him, as soon as he held me by the back of my neck, pressing my throat with his thumb, before I could even think it over. And when I did, I just smiled wider. I really wanted it. After all, if he killed me… Well, at least that would spare me having to wash the dishes that night. And if my life was really going to be what it had been for the last year or so, then I didn’t care much if that was how it ended. And, if he didn’t kill me… Then –what a chicken, right? Who goes ahead and pops out a big-ass knife, ready to charge, with another woman egging him on, only to not do it? What can I say –I was curious. Besides, it would be almost hilarious; what would we even do then, if he didn’t kill me now? Would he apologize for the inconvenience and leave? Would we just go home, like when bad weather cuts a ball game short?

Did this guy really have that killer instinct? Would he actually go through with it?

And he still doubted. He kept looking at me all confused. I wondered if he had done this before, and whether he thought I was special, in some way.

“Do it to me, now,” I insisted, keeping the grin firmly drawn on my face. But I kept staring back at him, watching how he faltered. Seemed like there were a hundred thoughts rushing through his head, his hand unsteady, his eyes shifting, and yet they always went back to mine. It was strangely intimate, that balance we had going, him holding me down on my knees and threatening me, but with me having a kind of control over the situation. I wasn’t screaming nor whimpering, I wasn’t intimidated at all, and that clearly threw him off his rhythm; and it was all truly much more exciting than whatever whatshername had been trying to pull in the bed.

And, because she was being ignored and she just needed to hog the spotlight, Blonde started whining. We both glanced at her, having forgotten she was there at all. The man looked back at me for a moment. She was getting in my nerves, and it was likely she was getting in his, too. If he wasn’t gonna kill me, then I might just ask him to borrow his knife and get that woman to shut up—

But then, as if he had just read my mind, he turned towards Blonde –pushed her against the floor –and stabbed her once, twice, thrice, nice and deep, right between the ribs, with the quick, confident pull and push of a professional. Oh, he had killed before. He was not a newbie at all.

And without missing a beat, he turned to me, actually smiling. “Hey, Red, wanna play?”

This had been a test all along, I thought, barely containing my giddiness. He offered me the knife. He really trusted me with it, to go on with it… Even though Blonde was gasping her last breaths already. But still, even if it was just scraps, it was hard to say no.

I let out a giggle when I got my hands on it. With both hands, like I used to. I got closer, still on my knees, and looked down at her body spread beside us. Blonde sure didn’t look as smug anymore… And then I stabbed her. Push in, pull back, with that nice wet sound, with that warmness that came with the splattered blood. My hands remained away from her, grasping the handle, but it was as if the knife had become an extension of myself –yes, I could feel her guts, sinking a bit deeper with each stab, pushing harder and carving a space inside her for me to dig through, making sure to go as far as possible, to the other side of her torso, to let the blood flow freely out of her, for it to splash all over me…

Boy, had I missed it. And even as I focused entirely on my task, becoming more and more excited, I noticed him (Charles, Blonde had called him) out of the corner of my eye, moving along with me to the thrust of the knife as I stabbed her over and over and over –and the way he did so, back and forward, tensing when we went back, letting go when I pushed on, as if guiding me from the side…

I closed my eyes and let out a euphoric laugh in sheer exhilaration, covered in Blonde’s blood. What a pleasure it was. The coldness of the night was gone, I felt my skin burning, my heart pounding, and I had forgotten all about Chinese and TV night. My lust for life had returned. God –I felt alive.

“Wow… It’s never happened like that before,” I admitted with a giggle, looking back at the guy. It wasn’t my first time killing, of course, but this was certainly different. I never had someone beside me, warming it up for me, for starters. Never had a partner in it. Maybe I never saw it as a bonding activity before. It always had been just a slipup, an accidental thing, sometimes a way to blow off some steam, perhaps even a bit of an embarrassing little secret. And there I was, thinking I had left it all behind me a year ago…

But now there was Charles, kindly inviting me along. How could I possibly refuse?

I put a hand on my chest and I frowned when I realized just how different I sounded. “Is that me?” The pure glee of it had probably caused me to slip. Shit… I thought I had managed my voice so far. Found that perfect balance between cute and sultry and kept it up for years. Now, my original voice, my annoying little voice, was back. Shit, shit, shit. Just when I had found a guy I could be truly myself with…

“Oh, it’s definitely you,” he said with a grin and a snicker, coming closer, embracing me. I smiled again, biting my lip, tasting the fresh blood. He picked me up and took me to the bed, and finally, finally I felt that great special rush of adrenaline, that kick I had been looking for for years, there, kissing him, tasting the blood on his own lips. I pushed his hair back, slick now, wanting to see his face. Charles. His cheeky grin, the devious twinkle in his eyes, his boyish charm… I could see myself getting used to it. I could see myself growing to love that face of his.

“Boy, you really know how to show a girl a good time,” I chuckled, and he joined me with his own. He leaned forward to kiss me again, but I wanted us to be properly introduced to one another, to get that out of the way. “I’m Tiffany.”

“I’m Charles,” he replied, now in a different voice, a low snarl that sounded almost menacing. But I wasn’t afraid of him. Why, after that whole display, he couldn’t scare me even if he tried.

“Know what, Charles—” I said, taking a moment to catch my breath. “You should be Chucky.” It went without saying that it would be on account of how much he liked to laugh. And besides, Charles was far too formal. And now that we had shown each other the wickedest parts of ourselves, I felt it was only natural to become more familiar with the other.

“You know what, Tiff…?” Chucky said, raising his eyebrows, giving the body on the floor a quick glance. “… You should be blonde.”

Well, good news for him, then, I thought with a smile. Bleaching black hair was a lot easier than going full red. However, as I gripped his blood-stained shirt and pulled him back in for the kiss he’d been wanting, feeling just how eager he was to keep going, he would be stuck with a redhead for the time being.

You know that one song that was all the rage that October, Like A Virgin? It was like that. Shiny and new, indeed. Best fuck I had in a very long time, truth be told, if not ever. Not that I was gonna tell him that, get his ego that blown. I would have never guessed the weirdo with the hair and the suit had it in him… But Chucky was always full of surprises.

I’m not sure how long passed then. During the eventual cigarette break, bathroom pause, and one moment in which we raided the minibar, I noticed that there was light out the window, but when I checked later, it was pitch dark. Neither one of us checked on the time at any point. I guess neither of us had anywhere better to be than there. And it suited me just right.

Apart from the pit stops, though, we truly managed to keep ourselves entertained for quite a while. What broke the spell was, because it couldn’t have been any other way, Blonde’s natural decomposition. We had switched again and now he was on top of me. I was taking him in and kissing him back, sinking my nails in his back, not a care in the world –when there was the weirdest squeaking noise, loud enough to make both of us stop right then and there. Chucky and I exchanged a quick awkward glance, but decided to simply ignore it. We went right back to what we were doing –and there was the sound again, not a squeak anymore, longer than before. He moved back and let out a deep frustrated sigh.

“Hey… I promise I won’t judge you or anything,” I said, drumming my fingers on his thighs, looking up at him as he kneeled on the bed. “… But did you just rip one?”

“What? No!” he exclaimed. “Thought that was you—”

“It wasn’t me—!”

He let out a bitter chuckle. “Right, won’t judge you or anything…”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” I insisted, leaning on my forearms to prop myself up. “Y’know, it’s… It’s totally natural and stuff, I guess… But it wasn’t me—!”

There was the noise again, and now that we were both aware of it, we noticed the direction it was coming from. Blonde had gotten bloated and her skin was turning waxy. And, in the silence we kept for the next few seconds, we got another toot, clearly coming from her body.

The two of us burst out laughing. I had heard of bodies becoming gassy after death from some documentary on TV, but I really wasn’t expecting it to sound exactly what gassy sounded like. And apparently it was the music hour, because she kept passing wind for a while –to both our disgust and amusement.

As funny as it was, we did have stinky worm food in our hands. Once we finally calmed down, he suggested stuffing it into the closet and forgetting about it. The issue kept turning in my mind though. And what a pity it would be if we were forbidden to return to such a nice hotel some other time, if some other time could become a possibility… So, I proposed to use his handy knife to chop it up, put it into a laundry bag and throw it into the garbage. That way, at least, there wouldn’t be a dead body to link us to it. Even if it would still be hard to explain the amount of blood.

We dragged Blonde into the bathroom and took turns to hack her up. Once that was done (and it took quite a while, since we also had to break a few bones) Chucky stuffed the slabs in the laundry bag while I hosed the bathtub to get it as spotless as I could. I also took a moment to rinse Blonde’s nice purple corset. I could easily mend the stabbing holes, she was more or less my size (maybe a bit smaller), and it would’ve been a shame to throw it away along with the meat. Only then, with Blonde’s parts finally packed up and ready to go, we realized that it would seem a tad suspicious to leave through the front door while missing one person, and now carrying a big stinking bag.

“What d’you suggest, then?” Chucky asked me. I looked at him, and then at the window behind the messy, blood-dotted bed, and smiled.

I opened the window, the two of us picked up the bag and, with some effort, raised it and tossed her out into the street where it fell on the pavement with a crunch! Luckily it was either really late or really early, and there was nobody on the street to notice our suspicious behavior.

“Did it rip?” he asked, peeking out the window, lighting a new cigarette.

Hard to say with the little light. Since no blood pooled around it, though, we concluded the first half of the operation was a success. Chucky gave me an impressed little glance as he put on his coat. I put on mine, smiling wide in my satisfaction, dangling my heels in one hand.

The second half of the operation was to run like hell out the emergency exit. We giggled like schoolkids as we rushed down the stairs. He was a bit faster than me, since I was practically bouncing barefoot on the concrete steps. I gave him a couple light kicks to tease him, slipping my hands on the handrails. We weren’t rolling around naked anymore, but I was still dizzy with excitement, unable to wipe the smile off my face. Once we got to the backdoor, which was partly locked (that surely had to be a safety hazard), it was Chucky’s moment to impress me. He handed me his cigarette for safekeeping, and with a sniff and a quick rub of his nose, walking a few steps backwards, he got the momentum he needed –hopped for a bit where he stood, as a sort of warmup –and ran towards the door –and gave it one hard kick –managing to get it wide open. He grinned proudly, turning back to see my reaction, and I laughed and clapped. We hurried back to the street, to the bag that was waiting for us, circled by curious stray dogs, which fortunately hadn’t managed to open it and which Chucky swiftly shooed away. He waited politely for me to put my heels back on.

“I’ve never been around a dead body long enough to see it rotting,” I admitted as we both dragged the heavy bag towards the closest dumpster.

“There’s a first time for everything,” he said with a little chuckle. “And… Well, it was pretty warm in that hotel room.”

I snickered, standing on the tip of my toes, holding the lid of the dumpster as high as I could. Chucky picked up the bag with a grunt, swung it and tossed it into the dumpster, where it landed with a thump!, and I dropped the lid, and the operation was then done. We had both now created and disposed of a dead body. Quite an achievement.

With a long, satisfied sigh, Chucky leaned back against the wall of the alley. He took a drag of his cigarette and then offered it to me. By the faint yellow light of the lamppost beside us I noticed the pinkish lipstick stains I had left on it. I gazed at him as he blew the smoke. It could just have been some leftover smudges of blood, but judging by the shade it seemed to be that he actually had my lipstick all smeared on his mouth. Something about that sent a chill down my back.

I smiled at him, giving his cigarette a puff. He smiled back.

“D’you have the time, Chucky?” I asked him, leaning against the wall beside him.

“No, I lost my wristwatch a couple weeks ago,” he said, sinking his hands in his pockets. “Why’d you ask?”

“Wanted to know if it’s Monday already.”

He snorted. “Busy day, Mondays?”

I smiled and looked down at my worn shoes. I should have brought the boots instead, even if they didn’t match my skirt and jacket. “… Amazing, isn’t it?” If they had any traces of blood, I couldn’t tell. “All you can do in just one night.”

Chucky sighed and nodded. He handed me the cigarette again. “Yeah, well, the night’s still young, Tiff.”

We both had to take a moment to catch our breaths. We had run a few floors, dragged a whole person in a bag, been fucking for an unspecified amount of time. Exhaustion was finally kicking in. We shared a cold but comfortable silence, and I closed my eyes, feeling the roughness of the brick against my back, the light sting of the bruises on my legs, the quick but steady beating of my heart, and listening to his breathing, and, far away, the sounds of police sirens and ambulances, of cars and trucks speeding by, completely oblivious to us and to all we had done. There really were no people on the streets, only the eventual flashing lights of a passing car. Somehow that made it feel like Chucky and I were the only two people in the world.

I returned him his cigarette. He took one last puff and flicked it into the curb. I wrapped myself a bit tighter in my coat, rubbing my cheek against its fluffy collar, shivering at a cold rush of wind, my knees trembling just a bit. Chucky looked out into the streets, stretching his neck, checking if someone would come near. Then he sighed, turned back to me and looked me in the eye. A moment passed. It seemed it was time for us to say our goodbyes. And neither one of us wanted to be the one to start.

“… I had fun,” I finally said, trying to hide my… My what? My apprehension? My sadness? My curiosity? I’m not sure. I just had this sinking feeling at the idea of never seeing him again.

“Yeah… Me too,” he admitted gingerly. If we hadn’t spent what seemed to be at least one whole day together I would have thought Chucky might have been lying. “It’s… It was an interesting surprise, I guess.”

I nodded, wringing my hands. “Same here.”

He nodded, rocking on the balls of his feet, glancing awkwardly at the sides, as if that were a particularly fascinating alleyway. “So… Well…”

I didn’t care if it made things weird, I wasn’t gonna be the one to say goodbye. I didn’t want to. And I had the feeling he didn’t want to, either.

His face lit up out of a sudden. He rummaged in his pockets and fished out an old receipt and a shaved-down pencil. “Hey, uh, I don’t know if… I mean, maybe…” He chewed on his lip, looking down, clearly embarrassed. “… I don’t know, we might… Get together again, one of these days, or something…”

“Oh—”

“You got a phone?”

I snickered. “Don’t most people?”

He laughed, dropping his shoulders, loosening up a bit. “Shit, you… You know what I mean.”

I chuckled, taking the little flimsy piece of paper, holding it against the dumpster’s lid, and scribbled my phone number in the biggest, clearest numbers I could write. “Here you go, mister.”

Chucky gave it a glance, still grinning, and stuffed it back into his pocket. If there was a good moment to declare that encounter over, it was then. I waited for him to take it. There was already a promise of a future meeting. I gazed at his face, examining it, putting all my efforts into remembering every part of it. He looked back at me, still smiling. He reached out towards my face –and gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

That was it. I think that was when I really fell for him. My hair was caked with dry blood, my makeup was a mess, I was exhausted from the effort of running down stairs and pulling a bag with a dead body inside, and the late-night cold had me trembling like a shitting Chihuahua. But he looked at me, and I felt beautiful. I knew that, by the way he looked at me, he thought I was beautiful.

“Um… My place’s just a couple blocks away, you know,” I managed to blurt out.

Chucky’s eyebrows shot right up.

“I mean, if you’d like to wash up,” I said with a shrug. “We’re both looking like butchers, here.”

There was a pause. He seemed to be considering it. Maybe he was wondering if this could be his chance to try and kill me again, in a more intimate setting, somewhere where he might be able to pass it up as a gruesome suicide. Which I wouldn’t oppose, since, after all, anything would be better than to be unceremoniously killed in a random mucky alley. Maybe, though, he was just wondering if it was worth it.

“… Sure,” Chucky finally agreed. I grinned, noticing the smallest hint of a smile in his lips.

And with that, only stopping by the drugstore to pick up a few more condoms for good measure, I showed him the way to my apartment.

We didn’t really wash up, unsurprisingly. Once in the elevator he pulled me to him and kissed me again, and I held on to his shoulder and buried my fingers in his hair, and both of us already knew where this would end. I don’t know how we made it to my bed, but we did, and at least we didn’t have to share the room with a rotting farting corpse anymore.

At some point we did fall asleep, though. I saw Chucky’s eyes closing as he rubbed his lower lip with his thumb. I had bitten him at some point (well, more than once) but that bite was probably most likely because I had been nodding while dozing off in the middle of a kiss. He let out a sigh, and there was the little glow of the cigarette butt he left on the ashtray on my bed next to his leg. As the smoke went up towards the ceiling, I could hear him breathing softly. It was strange, to think of him as anything near the word soft. I huddled against him, covering him with one arm, smiling to myself. I felt a warm hand setting on my shoulder. It was so comforting… Then, I finally fell asleep.

He woke up before I did. I yawned and dragged myself out of bed, my eyelids still half-shut by the smudged mascara, when I saw Chucky standing in his briefs and tee, holding his blood-stained shirt in one fist and a cigarette in the other hand, with his back to the bedroom. I walked up to him, just a little surprised at this.

“Trying to sneak out?” I asked him with a sleepy giggle, taking the cigarette from his fingers.

He glanced at me over his shoulder. I looked towards where he was looking, the chimney mantle, where I had set my doll collection. It was the best place to display them –as if I actually had anyone to show them to. It was small, but I was proud of it. All of them from garage sales, thrift shops, one or two found just lying around in the curb or in a dumpster, waiting for someone to pick them and fix them up. I had only gotten to gluing one of them back together, and the cracks were still pretty obvious: they would be, until I got some new paint to cover it…

I leaned my head on his shoulder. He had his eyes wide open, wide awake, his brow furrowed, staring at my dolls. He seemed to be trying to understand something. For the briefest moment I was nervous Chucky thought I was a psycho or something.

“You like them?” I asked quietly, slipping his cigarette back into his hand.

Chucky remained silent for a moment longer, looking at them carefully, and took a drag, taking his time to answer. I couldn’t read his face. I swear he knew I was anxious about his answer.

“… If that’s your thing, Tiff,” he finally shrugged it off.

I let out a little happy squeak and hugged him tight, giving him a loud smooch on the cheek.

“Well, we all need a hobby, right?” I said with a wink.

He chuckled, and gave me a little kiss on the temple. “Ain’t that the truth…”

Sunlight was already streaming through the window. I went back into the bedroom and put on my nightdress and slippers. There was the buzzing of the radio, and the voice of a newscaster announcing the day’s weather forecast. He already made himself right at home, I thought.

“You got yourself quite a nice little place here,” Chucky commented when I came back to the kitchen.

“Yeah… I’ve been meaning to paint the walls purple,” I said, pushing my hair back. “But my landlord won’t allow it. And I can’t afford to piss him off with rent being what it is…”

“Purple… I can see it,” he said approvingly, glancing around him.

“Where’s your place?” I asked him, letting the hot water run over the dirty dishes on the sink, hoping he didn’t mind the mess too much. “D’you live far?”

“Ridgefield Avenue, other side of the river. By the S46 Bridge.”

“Quiet part of town,” I said with a smile. “I assume there’s not a wide offer of clubs by those parts.”

“You’d be assuming right,” he snickered, fidgeting with one of the buttons of his shirt, scraping the dry blood with his nail. “It’s just where I’m staying for the time being, though. I want to move closer to where the action is, leave the sidelines.”

I nodded and let out a sigh, taking in the sight of my little apartment. It wasn’t that messy, I told myself. I had a couple bags and boxes lying around from when I moved back in after my last breakup, but mostly everything was in its proper place, and it was pretty clean, all things considered. The only issue was the kitchen, the dirty dishes that had piled up, all greasy and grimy and nasty. Chucky didn’t seem to notice; or, if he did, he didn’t seem to care.

“… What time’s it?”

We both turned to the clock. Two in the afternoon.

“Fuck, I’m starving,” he groaned, hanging his head backwards on the edge of the chair’s back.

As if agreeing with him, my stomach let out a low grumble. “We got some… Some cereal…” I said before taking the box out of the shelf and realizing there was just enough for a spoonful. “We had some, at least.”

He got off the chair and picked up the rest of his clothing. I saw him out of the corner of my eye, shooting me a sideways glance while I opened the fridge, bent over and checked if there was something for us to eat.

“There’s nothing in the fridge save for expired milk, one moldy tomato and some stale bread…” I sighed.

I really wasn’t expecting any visits, after all. Even less a visit that would be staying for a meal. Best I could do was some coffee, but that wouldn’t cut it on an empty stomach.

“Do you, uh, happen to have any money on you?” I asked him, closing the fridge and looking at him over my shoulder.

“Yeah,” he said, zipping up his pants. “What d’you have in mind?”

I opened my eyes wide. Was he inviting me out? “… There’s a nice burger place ‘round the corner,” I suggested.

Before leaving the apartment and venturing out into the streets, though, we did have to wash up. I had forgotten about it already, but the two of us were covered in bloodstains, from the face to the chest to the arms and even some handprints on our legs. I wet a rag on the sink of the bathroom, sat on the toilet and washed myself off. Chucky leaned over the bathtub and rinsed his arms, face and neck, avoiding the shower just barely to keep his cigarette lit between his teeth. His stained shirt was a whole issue, which we ended up solving by me lending him an old Black Sabbath tee I had from my New York days that I wore to bed when my nightdress was in the laundry bag.

“I’ll take it with me next time I go to the laundromat,” I told him, examining the stains. They were pretty dark already. The cotton had probably already absorbed it fully. “And if that doesn’t take it out… Baking soda has never let me down before, at least where period blood is concerned.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve walked ‘round the street in broad daylight, red from head to toe, without anyone giving a shit,” he said, checking the tee’s fit, while I brushed the dry blood flakes off my hair. “It’s amazing what people don’t see.”

And so, finally looking like model citizens, we went out and had burgers and milkshakes. We were both pretty damn famished, it had to be said. We barely talked while we ate. Soon enough there was nothing but some dropped onions on our trays and ketchup leftovers on our fingers to lick off.

“I didn’t know about this place,” he said casually as he wiped his mouth. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, isn’t it?”

I smiled and nodded, tapping my nail against the half-empty cup. I watched him while he sucked on the straw of his strawberry shake, wondering what would happen now. Now that we both had cooled off for the time being, I was half expecting Chucky would decide that I was a loose end, and would try to find a good moment to tie that up. So far, though, everything seemed normal. Too normal. It was like an average date with just some guy. Seeing him no longer colored by the red glow of the club, nor by the bright yellow light of the hotel room, no more blood splattered across his face, and now enjoying a burger like your average Joe, wearing my old tee, it was almost as if everything that had happened had just been a weird wonderful dream.

Though, I have to admit, I was still kind of thrilled at the fact that I had met someone who shared my specific interests.

“Hey, uh… Hope you don’t mind me asking,” I said after swallowing my last bite. “… What’s your body count?”

“Boy, I lost track years ago,” he laughed as he leaned back. “Why, do you still have yours?”

“Um… Let me think,” I said, and got to counting with my fingers. “… Hm, Heath, Jordan, Maxine, Mimi, Kenny, Tony, Carole, Roy, Leanne, Gavin, Ronnie, Elliot… Mark… Uh, I think this one’s name was Zach… I must be missing someone, but I think those are the ones I remember the most… So, say around fourteen, fifteen. What do you think of that?”

Chucky hummed, resting his head on his hand. He thought about it for a minute. “… I mean, you know all their names, for one. So you clearly keep it personal.”

“Well, yes,” I frowned. “I’m not interested in total strangers—”

“But our first shared one was with a stranger, though,” he noted.

I blinked, a bit surprised by him specifying first. “Yeah, well—”

“Was that your first time with just, you know, a random person?” he asked, leaning forward, barely holding back a grin.

“I’m not telling you…!”

He let out a short but loud laugh. “So it was!”

I huffed. “So what if it was?”

“You’re, like, in your mid-twenties, right? So fourteen, fifteen’s not that bad,” Chucky shrugged. Now I was really curious to know his death count. I had the feeling he did remember it, but had decided that leaving that to the imagination was more impressive. “But you could do better. If you opened yourself to other options…”

I scoffed. I was thrilled, I was into him, yes –but I wasn’t that much into being talked down to. “So you say I should just go around and fuck up the first fella I come across?”

Chucky smiled even wider. “You did. I just gave you the chance. And hey, I’m no hypocrite, I won’t fault you for that. I’m just saying…” He leaned back on his chair, picking his cup and offering a toast. “It’s not exactly impressive, but you got promise, Tiff. Fifteen’s nothing to sneeze at.”

He probably knew I wasn’t really that offended, and soon enough I smiled back at him. Nobody had complimented me on my death count so far. We clinked cups, and I finally realized that Chucky wasn’t gonna kill me. There was something he saw in me that he liked. Or maybe he just wanted a side piece. I’m not a mind reader, I couldn’t know for sure. I just knew that I had fun with him –more fun than what I had had with anyone else –and that I liked the idea of staying around to see what happened next.

“I’d love to… You know, do something like this again,” I said, twirling my hair. “If you’re up to it.”

He tilted his head. “Go out for burgers?”

“No, silly,” I chuckled. “To… Meet again. Do something…” I just couldn’t blurt it out. I giggled, despite myself, becoming a bit flustered. “You got my number, so… If you ever, say, wanted to… To do something…”

“Are you talking about—?”

“Both,” I interrupted him, just as a mother and her child passed us by. “Both… Both would be great.”

Chucky looked at me, slowly realizing what I meant, and nodded. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, remembering when he did that, and fidgeted with my earring. We were no longer alone with each other. We were surrounded by other patrons at the burger place, by families with their kids, by people chatting on the street… But none of it erased what had happened when we were together.

I noticed that Chucky still had a little cut in his lower lip, where I had bitten him.

I smiled. Yes –it had all been real.

“What, do I have something on my face?” he asked me, scratching his cheek.

“No, it’s nothing,” I said, looking down, still smiling. “I’m just… I’m just happy I met you.”

We had already paid. It was about to be three o’clock. It felt like we had been together for a whole week. And still, we didn’t know how to say goodbye.

“Well…” he said, shifting uneasy in his chair. “… What’s next?”

“I –I got a job,” I blurted, immediately regretting it. “And, uh… I guess that—”

“Right.”

“So… Besides, you surely got your own stuff, your own life to go back to—”

“Yeah,” Chucky nodded quickly. “I’m a very busy man.”

I just barely stifled a laugh. “I bet you are.”

He shot me a glare, but then he smiled, too.

We got off the chairs and back onto the street. We walked a bit, just to get the circulation going. I wanted to take his hand, but he had both of them in the pockets of his coat. I already felt the sadness creeping in. I wondered for how long we would keep walking (hopefully all the way to Ridgefield Avenue on the other side of the river) but we stopped by my apartment.

“Well… See you around, Tiff,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair, pushing it off his face.

I smiled. “See you around, Chucky.”

He smiled back. I looked down at his mouth, at the little cut. Even at the risk of staining my teeth with lipstick, I bit down my lower lip, as if I was trying to give myself that same cut. I looked back into his big blue eyes.

And, somehow, we both knew. At this point, even if we hadn’t talked a lot to each other, I felt I knew him inside out. I knew him without saying a word. We moved towards the other –and kissed –and we embraced like that first night on the bed of the hotel room, not too long ago, but which felt like ages –and we kissed. Everyone else in the street disappeared in a blur. There was only us, and the warmth of our bodies, and the white light of day. I knew, right then and there, that this was love.

#childs play #chucky series #fanfiction

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