#I can’t believe there’s even a pro tag for this angel | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nickblaine · 2 years ago

Text

season 5 script summaries

links to previous script summaries: season 4, season 3, season 2, season 1, seasons 1/2 cont’d also, check my tht scripts tag for gifs, excerpts, and more details

i got the librarian’s email about season 5 scripts, and even though driving to and parking at WGAW has become a literal nightmare, i said fuck it and flew (crawled in traffic) down there the very next day. i wanted to see what the mood was like during the strike, anyway.

the staff had the library running business as usual, but the energy was high and there were pro-union shirts everywhere. there were a couple of guys on the first floor making literal piles of picket signs. i chatted with them for a minute and they said everyone was mostly out on the streets, picketing at every major studio in the city. rock on WGA ✊

i was on a time limit to beat rush hour, so when i read the season 5 scripts it was only Nick scenes. i searched for all instances of his name and wrote down everything i could. i may go back to read the rest of the season, but i can’t make any promises on when that will be.

before i begin (same as last time):

• everything described here is from the official scripts that are archived at the Writers Guild in Los Angeles. • the scripts i read are final drafts. there is no “writing in the margins.” everything described is from dialogue and script direction that was used on set. (click for an example) • the library has a strict no copies/photos rule in place which is why i summarize what i read. • anything in italics is a direct quote for the sake of clarity. • feel free to ask questions and i’ll answer to the best of my ability. my private notes are pretty detailed, but if i need to do more research i may save the answer for a future library visit. • please do not share this post without my permission. thank you in advance for respecting my wishes.

5x01 - Morning

Nick and Rose’s morning scene in this episode is more or less the same as this early script draft. The only difference is after Nick tells Rose her coffee is good, there’s an additional line that says: “It’s a lie, and they both know it. Rose appreciates the polite kindness.”

5x02 - Ballet

There was a short scene of Nick and Joseph Lawrence having a private chat at the airport before meeting with Serena Joy. It was cut from the episode, but you can see it in the trailer.

In this scene, Lawrence confides in Nick that he’s nervous about the meeting with Serena because - in his words - “You had to let your girlfriend go after Fred.”

Nick assures Lawrence that they’re going to spin it as a savvy political move by blaming the Americans for killing Fred. Lawrence still chastises him for not doing his job. Then the conversation pivots (a little clunkily) to this line from the trailer:

NICK: Serena doesn’t know what happened.

LAWRENCE: Doesn’t matter what she knows. It matters what she believes.

When they meet Serena on the tarmac, she instantly has suspicions that they were responsible for Fred’s death. The conversation is tense until they all see Fred’s body getting rolled off the plane, then Serena needles Nick’s guilt and pokes at it with her “Fred saw promise in you” speech.

As they are leaving the tarmac, there’s a line that says “Nick acknowledges Mark with a nod” and Lawrence notices it. In the episode you can see Nick and Mark exchange looks in the background as they leave, but otherwise Lawrence doesn’t notice.

At the Putnam’s party later in the episode, you may have noticed that after the Handmaids arrive, Esther and Nick share a notable look. The script describes this as a fraught moment in which Nick is filled with remorse and wishing he could do more. It also says Esther remembers Nick from when he and the Eyes arrested her, and she’s visibly pissed about it. As they walk away from each other, “Nick can’t help but be reminded of June.”

While Serena Joy is manipulating the Commanders into broadcasting Fred’s funeral, Nick steps in because he’s moved by her bravery and “attempting to atone for his hand in killing Fred.”

In the secret meeting between Nick and Mark there were a few cut lines of dialogue. Most notable is after Nick tells him he just tries to stay out of trouble, Mark replies, “Catches up to everyone, at some point.“

Opaque, Nick thinks about that. How long does he think he can keep going?

Ok, so the end of the episode when the funeral is on TV in Canada, I’m happy to report that Nick IS mentioned in June’s inner dialogue. The scene describes her recognizing who is onscreen with Serena. First she sees Lawrence, and then... “And finally, most painfully -- NICK.” (Yes, in all caps like that, lol.)

5x03 - Border

Cute June inner-dialogue when Lily asks her if Nick’s a big Jezebels guy: “June doesn’t know how to explain what type of “guy” Nick is.”

The awkward Lawrence residence dinner scene. Commander Mackenzie genuinely loves Rose (”old friend of the family”) and is instantly distrustful of Nick. Serena doesn’t buy Nick and Rose’s relationship as genuine either, and tries to subtly acknowledge Rose’s close relationship with June’s daughter’s parents by telling him how lucky he is. Nick is tense, but then his banter with Rose relaxes him, making Serena surprised to observe real affection in their relationship.

During the dinner itself, Mackenzie is just making everyone extremely uncomfortable by bringing up June. Nothing too interesting in the script here, it’s mostly just dialogue.

There is a cut line after dinner when Nick and Rose are leaving, and she says to him, “Well I wouldn’t say that’s the most relaxing dinner party I’ve ever been to.” (He responds “Yeah. No.”) Then he spots Mark all alone. Script says Rose understands what he’s about to do. “Nick squeezes her hand, then heads over to Mark.”

The script emphasizes here that Nick is unsure talking to Mark is a good idea, but he really wants to be the one to tell June about Rose before Serena does.

Mackenzie scares the shit out of him in this scene, and the “fuck” Nick mutters at the end was originally not spoken out loud (”OFF NICK, fuck.”) but I’m so glad it was.

Alright, phone call scene. One of our few big Osblaine moments!

NICK: June. Hi.

June suddenly feels like everything is going to be okay.

This scene is mostly dialogue. The final product is all the acting that goes into it. It does say Nick is stressed to relay upsetting information about Hannah and Rose. When June hears about Rose, she knew this was coming eventually, but it’s still a blow. It also describes how painful and hard this is for both of them. But at the end of the call, right after June tells Nick to be happy, is my favorite line in the whole script:

It’s an impossible ask, maybe, for these two to be truly happy without each other.

After the phone call, there is a cut scene between Nick and Rose where they simply look at each other.

Rose knows exactly who he was on the phone with, and what he said to her.

She looks worried for him, knowing it wasn’t easy.

He nods to her -- it’s done.

5x06 - Together

According to the script, Lawrence only invited Warren Putnam over to his house to get Nick on board with killing him. Warren repulses Nick so he’s down.

The next scene they’re in is when they execute Warren. (Such a good scene.) After Nick shoots him in the head, the script describes the camera hanging onto Nick and “his soldier’s stoicism.”

Then it cuts straight to Rose in the Blaine home. “She’s disappointed in him and he knows it.”

Now this scene threw me off. It’s written much differently than how Max acted it. Nick is actually a lot more warm toward Rose in the script, much like how all their previous scenes were. Several lines of Nick’s dialogue were changed (”Can I help?” became “You gonna tell me what’s going on?” onscreen) and his body language comes across way more cold and defensive than what’s described on paper.

As for Rose, she isn’t soothed by Nick’s assurances here. And that’s it for this episode.

5x08 - Motherland

New Bethlehem opens with another cut private moment between Lawrence and Nick.

Nick is brooding by the water, “still grappling with the moral and emotional consequences of shooting Warren in the head.” Lawrence finds him and tries to prod, but Nick gives him nothing.

LAWRENCE: You look a little more moody and broody than usual. Really, you sleeping okay?

NICK: I’m fine.

Lawrence moves on because they have work to do. He reminds Nick he’s counting on him.

Lawrence gives his New Bethlehem speech to the other Commanders. When one of them pushes back, “that’s the cue for Nick, the muscle. Enough carrots, time for sticks.”

After Nick bullies the Commanders and Lawrence consolidates his power, the script describes these two as a “dynamic duo” lol

Okay, brace yourselves, there’s a cut Osblaine scene up next. I had no idea this existed, I don’t think there are any shots of it in the trailer.

It takes place after June visits Serena in the detention center and realizes she can’t help Hannah unless she’s there. If you watch that part you will see her pull out Lawrence’s burner phone as she leaves. But instead of going to Lawrence’s office like she does in the filmed version, in the script she calls Lawrence and just says, “I want to talk to Nick.”

It cuts to the next night at the border wall between Gilead and Canada. June is waiting on the Canada side as flying drone searchlights swoop across the electrified fence. (All described in dramatic detail.) She sees Nick appear on the other side. They look at each other, waiting, and once the searchlights clear they move to meet each other at the fence.

JUNE: I need to know if this is for real. I need to know that Hannah and my family will be safe.

NICK: I know. You will be. I promise.

JUNE: How can you promise that?

NICK: Things are changing, people are scared of Lawrence. I’m in a position now where i can make sure you’ll be safe.

JUNE: I want to believe you.

NICK: June. You can finally be with Hannah, watch over her. Isn’t that what you always wanted?

She nods.

NICK (CONT’D): Then please. Come back.

“To me,” he means. June’s heart is torn.

At this point the searchlights return and they have to separate. This scene is written like a soap opera. “They can’t help but reach out to each other, almost brushing fingertips before they move apart and run back, escaping the lights.”

Photo of this scene from Max’s IG:

Later in the episode, Lawrence is back in New Bethlehem with Nick. Nick asks which way June is leaning and Lawrence says it’s toward yes. The script says here that Nick understands that Lawrence is trying to manipulate him, but he can’t help but be cautiously optimistic at the idea of having June and Nichole in New Bethlehem with him.

By the end of the conversation, Nick is “considering.”

5x09 - Allegiance

We’ll skip to 27 minutes into the episode, when June sits with Mark after the failed mission. Mark catches June off guard by bringing up Nick. She’s taken aback by the revelation that he turned down Mark’s offer, but Mark says she can still persuade him. The script says “June imagines the prospect of Nick in Toronto” which I think you can see pretty clearly on Lizzie’s face lol.

Then we cut to the big Osblaine reunion.

Lots of dramatic buildup in the script leading up to their conversation. I don’t know how to describe it other than to show you:

She looks toward the courtyard. And there he is --

NICK

Waiting for her. Strained.

JUNE

Takes a beat to soak him in. She gets out.

OUTSIDE

June approaches Nick, their eyes locked.

Like, damn. They love building tension with these two.

Anyway, dialogue proceeds as it does in the show. Nick tells June that his wife’s pregnant and June has the wind knocked out of her. She’s described as “appalled by Nick’s commitment to Gilead, but understanding of his loyalty to Rose and their future child.”

And then--

JUNE: I want what’s best for both our families.

They look at each other.

A giant chasm between them now. But they’ve shared so much. So much trauma. So much love. A daughter.

JUNE (CONT’D): Well. This is a fine mess, isn’t it?

This scene is once again described as painful for both of them. “She tries to keep it together. How can they part? How can they say goodbye?”

Before Nick says “I love you” he was supposed to wrap his arms around her, but in the final cut they keep their distance.

5x10 - Safe

Just wanna note that when Nick shows up on the bridge to meet Mark, it was originally written so American soldiers yank Nick out of his car, handcuff him, and drag him across the bridge to Mark. We were deprived.

Also the first thing out of Nick’s mouth here was supposed to be, “How is she?”

In the hospital, Mark is telling Nick what’s going on but, “Nick can’t even speak. Looking at June, with her black and blue eyes.”

Mark gets the hint and leaves Nick alone. An interesting thing to note is that the line “it’s probably better if she doesn’t know I was here” is NOT in the script. At all.

The rest of the scene is sweet and simple.

Nick crosses, sits beside June.

A beat. Nick takes her hand.

Says nothing as he watches her sleep.

And that’s it.

Mark and Nick’s second scene on the bridge is just as short and to the point. In fact it’s almost entirely dialogue, so the emotions you see onscreen came from acting and directing. The only notable difference here is when Mark tells Nick he could’ve run away with June, he was scripted to give actual examples of where. “Maybe not to Canada, but there are -- places you could’ve gone. Idaho, the Westward Territories.” (Hopefully foreshadowing lol.)

At the party, it is scripted that Rose tries to greet Nick when he arrives and he doesn’t even acknowledge her. Like she doesn’t even exist.

There isn’t much description to accompany the punch. There is a line that says if Nick wasn’t pulled off of Lawrence than he’d be happy to keep on whaling on him. It also describes Lawrence as “rattled” and Rose as “humiliated.”

At the train station, during June’s goodbye to Mark, she asks him to tell Nick that she and Nichole are safe as a nod to their phone call in episode 3. The only descriptive line here is, “A beat, as Mark clocks the deep and selfless connection between Nick and June.”

The final scene I have notes for is Nick and Rose’s breakup in jail.

There are a couple parts of their scripted conversation that didn’t make it onscreen. Starting with right after Rose tells him a good man wouldn’t leave his wife every time his girlfriend calls, Nick’s response was supposed to be, “she was almost killed.” Then Rose laments that she thought she was lucky that someone like [Nick] would deign to be with someone like [her.] Nick says, “I was the lucky one” and she tells him to shut up.

Then there’s the “You will never let go of her, will you?” line from the show. Nick explains that he tried, but Rose retorts with, “Who knows what that woman will bring to our door. I have to protect our son.” Nick is described as scared now, and pleads with her not to leave.

Now I have no idea if that “our son” drop was supposed to be a legitimate reveal or just hopeful Gilead thinking. The script says nothing else about it and it was cut from the show. But it will be fun to speculate as we wait for the final season.

#the handmaid's tale #tht scripts #nick blaine #osblaine #june osborne #rae.txt

120 notes · View notes

yurious-george · 3 years ago

Text

House Rules

I can come across a little condescending or contrarian sometimes - sorry about that! It’s not intentional.

I’m more likely to respond to ask games if you include the question with the emoji. (Thank you!)

I don’t do chain/copy paste ask games, but I appreciate getting them!

I won’t post fundraisers sent in my asks or submissions. I just don’t have the spoons to vet them myself, and I have no income besides. I will reblog them, however.

I’m not “pro” or “anti” ship, I go outside, and you should too.

Karibu karibu, enjoy your stay!

I only accept anon hate in the form of limerick. Please be aware of this before sending or your message will be blocked & deleted without comment. My blog MUST remain a silly space.

Blacklist Tags:

#important - catch-all politics & current events tag.

#this is cassandra - talks tag. From the song by Talis Kimberley.

#sadismposting, #the intersection where the bodies meet - horny violence babyyyy

#something rotten in the house - incest, haunted houses, and greek tragedy. context

I can be rather inconsistent when tagging!

Interests:

wazungu wednesday is an occasional wednesday event on my blog where I muse on my life as a previous american-african immigrant, being othered both in and out of Africa explicitly for my whiteness, and how my ostracisation functioned under the same imperial banner as African & Black exploitation. Don't use my suffering to justify your bigotry. Also just african-related goofs and opinions.

For personal reasons, "afab transfem" more accurately describes my relationship with my gender than simply "cis" or even "tme" does, similar to mzungu describing my relationship with my race, rather than what race I am. For all practical applications, I do have cis privilege, and refer to myself as such. But I've had to reclaim my femininity after being de- and mis- gendered for such a long time; I resonate strongly with transfems, and they are my sisters & equals! I regularly post about transmisogyny, but sometimes vent about poor theory. As long as you don't drink t*rf koolaid, you're fine.

I'm trying to engage with more political and economic theory. I’m firmly anti-capitalist, but have occasional criticisms of communism... I identify as an anarchist with strong marxist leanings, but I struggle to read theory, so I’m still working out the kinks. Communist, anarchist, or socialist, everyone who believes in a kinder world & concrete action is welcome on my blog! No tag.

Opera - #opera tag

Textile arts, focused historical techniques & materials. I’ve knitted hand warmers from yarn I cleaned, carded, and spun myself! - #textile, #move the sheep and the fences around

Fashion - mostly “vintage”/historical women’s styles, with the occasional kitenge or si-fi-esque look. - #clothing

Sub-Saharan African mythology & cultures, particularly the Maasai. East Africa for culture, and West Africa for mythology, just because I think the West African gods are cooler. (Sorry, Kenya.😅) - #africa

Farming, homesteading, animal husbandry, etc. No tag. Lots of chickens.

Spiders - #spiders

Ancient legends, media analysis, meta narrative. Enemies to lovers, too; if the Epic of Gilgamesh did it, I can put it here. #can’t argue with a monomyth, #the play that eats the players, #enemies with benefits, #stories

Angels - I am not religious but feel strongly associated with them. #angels

Character tags: #gawainposting, #gearposting, #ishtarposting

Fandoms & medias & sideblogs & such

Abzu, Journey, Sky cotl (@starsfallhome)

Hollow Knight (@bobbinbugs)

comicaurora (no longer like it but left my side blogs up.) (@aurorar34, @gaias-letterbox)

Kiwi Blitz (@normalkiwiblitz)

Dungeon Meshi

Princess Tutu + princess tutu abridged

Revolutionary Girl Utena

Blue Eye Samurai

Lego Monkie Kid

Arcane (loved s1, s2 critical)

Mabel Podcast

House of Leaves

Death Palette, Outer Wilds, Portal 1 & 2, Ultrakill

Hatoful Boyfriend

Paul Shapera (no longer following but soft spot for older works)

Medieval literature

The Epic of Gilgamesh, Inanna's Descent Into the Underworld, various mesopotamian stone tablets

31 notes · View notes

afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years ago

Note

hii, i love your writing so much and the black!reader content u provide us cause god knows we need more of them.

i wanted ro ask u if u could do a story where chris meets the reader at some celebrity party and they become really close and they start to fall for eachother. Chris asks her to be his gf but then she becomes distant and they end up getting in an argument and she reveals that she cant date him because shes a stripper and people will probably talk shit about her work being with a celebrity as known as him.

thank u in advanced i love your stories💕

Honey

Summary: After telling Chris the truth, he wants to make things right.

Parings: Chris Evans x black!reader

Warnings: smut, strip club, lap dance, pole dancing, girl on top, fingering, swearing, daddy kink

(A/N: this has taken me for fucking ever and I have no clue why. I struggled, but it’s finally done. I’m so sorry Anon for how long it took. I also couldn’t settle on one single song because you all suggested such good ones so I left it ambiguous.)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @blackmissfrizzle @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @harrysthiccthighss @mariahthelioness29 @whiskey-cokenfanfic @olyvoyl @hqneyyincc @queenoftheworldisdead @iam-laiya @donutloverxo @slytherinandoutasgard @zaddychris @brattycherubwrites @love-more122 @ljstraightnochaser (wouldn’t let me tag you)

——————————————————————————-

Chris still couldn’t believe that you’d think he’d care. As if whatever anyone had to say about you would make him want to be with you any less. He doesn’t even know why he let you walk away that night. Or why he let you cry as you finally told him.

Since then he’d been going over everything that happened in his head. The way your eyes welled up as you finally told him the truth. The shock that ran through him because even though he knew how nasty you could be, you still kept up the facade of a sweet innocent girl so well. Which is what drove him crazy about you in the first place.

Except you’d taken that as rejection and he was too late to convince you otherwise. It didn’t stop him from constantly thinking that there was more that he could have done. Hopefully he wasn’t too late.

When you met at that party he was enchanted by you. By your voice. The way you wore your hair. Your beautiful smile. Like he’d met an angel in the flesh. He took you home that night where he couldn’t even wait until he was inside to fuck you, instead bending you over the hood of his car so he could give it to you right then and there.

Between all the fucking and pillow talk, he’d fallen for you. Somehow you’d become his first thought when he woke up and the last one before he fell asleep. He’d fallen for you quick and fast and was tired of the two of you just being fuck buddies. He’d thought you’d felt the same.

It didn’t matter because the truth had come out and you hadn’t talked to him since. He’d thought about texting you, but as corny as it was he needed to do something bigger. So that’s why he was in the audience watching you work that pole. As much as he hated that other men got to ogle you he was more focused on how beautiful you looked up there.

He chuckled because you would choose such a glittery outfit to do this in. Your makeup was all done up all bright and flashy in a way you didn’t usually care for. Your wig was this pastel pink. He was trying to ignore his anxiety telling him that everything could go wrong. Maybe it would, but he at least wanted to try.

“Is it possible to get a private dance from her?” He’d asked one of the bouncers, trying to use his Boston accent so it might not be as noticeable who he was.

“Who?” He asked making this face. “Honey? She doesn’t do lap dances. Something about a boyfriend.”

His heart sunk a little, but he had to do this. “What about for a little extra.” He flashed the money he had in his pocket.

He thought for a minute, before shrugging. “Go wait in room four.”

It took about ten minutes for you to walk in with a silk robe on. Still wearing that wig. He knew that look on your face. The one when you had an attitude. Suddenly he was thinking about that night you got a little snippy with him. He fucked it out of you by pinning you down and showing you who owned that pussy.

Fuck he needed you back.

“Look, I do-“ you stopped when you saw it was him. “Chris, what’re you- what’re you doing here?” You stuttered, your eyes widening.

He took a breath, shrugging his shoulders. “I wanted to talk.”

“You could have just called me,” you said.

“Yeah but I wanted to see you. I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he said.

You crossed your arms and looked down at your feet. Trying to stop yourself from smiling. You hated how he turned you into a pile of goo. Especially when he was trying to be mad at you. “How’d you find me?”

“I have my ways,” he replied, standing up. He pulled you into his arms hugging you tightly because he didn’t care if you had an attitude.

As much as you hated to, you pulled away from him. It didn’t matter that you wanted to melt into his arm. “You can’t just come to my job, Chris.”

He sighed because although he was expecting that reaction, he was hoping it wouldn’t happen. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. “I know. I just... if I had called would you have answered?” He asked. “Because I’ve been trying to call you. Fuck, what do you want me to do, Y/N.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know! I just... look I’m scared, okay. Scared of what people might say if they see us together.”

“I don’t care what people have to say.”

“Because you won’t be the one dealing with it!” You suddenly started to feel all teary eyed. You bit your lip as they started to come down your face. “I’m going to be the one getting comments all over social media about what a slut I am. Or about what an awful person I am. Or how I don’t deserve you because you’re fucking perfect.”

He sighed. “And I’ll be there to support you through all of it. Baby, I would never let anyone hurt you. Or disrespect you.”

“It doesn’t matter. They still will.”

“Hey,” he said, hugging you again not caring as you tried to push him away. Instead this time he held you cradling you in his arms because if you were crying he was going to hold you. “Tell me you don’t want to be with me.”

“It’s not that, Chris, I’m just scared.” You finally gave in. Clinging to him. What was the point of fighting when you just wanted him more than anything anyway.

“Hey, Buddy,” the club owners voice broke through your moment, making you feel like you were going to jump out of your skin, “no touching the dancers.”

Chris retracted his arms. “Sorry. I slipped and he caught me,” you lied. “He was just making sure I was okay.”

Of course he didn’t believe that. Looking at you through narrowed eyes. “Someone heard yelling in the next room. Sounded like someone was upset.”

“No I’m fine. We were just talking,” you said hoping that it didn’t show that you’d been crying. “I promise.”

“Fine, but keep your hands to yourself in my club, Pal.”

As soon as he left Chris sat down, pulling you into his lap. “So what do we do. Ball is in your court,” he said.

“I wanna be with you. I’m just... scared.”

He sighed. “Okay, well we don’t have to tell anyone right away. I just know that I’m crazy for you, Y/N.”

You smiled. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He kissed the side of your head. “Totally and completely crazy.”

You put your head on his shoulder. “I missed you, too,” you confessed.

“Yeah? What about this boyfriend I heard about?”

You tilted your head. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. The bouncer said you had a boyfriend so you didn’t give lapdances.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “That’s just what we tell them when we’re not in the mood.” He laughed kissing your forehead. “Or maybe I do have a boyfriend?”

“You want me to be your boyfriend?” He bit his lip. His heart was racing fast then.

“Maybe.” You smiled trying to play it off all I’m

“Maybe, but... I’m...” you pulled away from him only to cross your arms all self consciously again.

“Talk to me, Honey.”

You rolled your eyes. “You think you’re so funny.”

He chuckled. “I like it.” He grabbed your hand so you could sit with him. Making you perch on his lap. “Talk to me.” He pushed a piece of the pink wig out of your face.

“I’m still scared.”

“And, I’ll be there to beat up anyone who wants to talk shit.” Chris held you as close as he could needing to feel you against him. “So, do you like stripping?”

You shrugged. “It’s fun and it pays the bills.”

“Do you want to keep doing it?” He asked.

“I mean... maybe,” you replied. Sort of afraid to say the wrong thing. It’s not that you think Chris wasn’t pro sex work, but that didn’t mean he had to be okay with his girlfriend doing it.

“Baby, if you’re worried about money, I don’t mind helping out.”

“I know,” you said.

“And if this is something you want to do, I’m okay with that, too. I don’t care what anyone says.”

You smiled before kissing him. That had been all you needed to hear from him. Not that it would fix everything, but right now it was enough.

“Promise?”

“I swear on Dodger. So you know that means it’s pretty serious,” he replied. You chuckled and he kissed your lips this time. Craving you after spending way to long not being able to touch you. You were still tearing up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you sniffled forcing a smile on your face. “So, I never gave you that lap dance.”

He chuckled. “Oh yeah. Baby, you don’t-“

You cut him off, putting your hand against his mouth. “I know I said I don’t give them, but I’ll make an exception for you.” You licked your lips, giving him this look that he’d recognized when you were trying to take his dick.

He glanced at the door first making sure no one could see them. Yeah it was just a lap dance, but he couldn’t promise that he would keep his hands to himself. You got up before leaning down to peck his lips.

“You can touch me however you want.” You started undoing your robe showing off the little costume you were wearing underneath.

“Fuck,” he breathed as he looked you up and down. As you removed the fabric that was keeping him from being able to see your full body. You turned around slowly giving him an eyeful of all that ass. He reached out to touch it.

“You like?” You asked all breathily, sitting back down on his lap with your back pressed towards his chest. You gyrated your hips feeling him get hard under you. His bulge pressing into your barely covered center.

He groaned into your ear. “Oh, I fucking love it.” He wrapped his arms around your his so tight. Helping you move. Making you mold into him a little deeper.

You bent your arm back so it was resting on the back of his head. He grabbed at your tits kissing your neck. As he pinched your nipple you let out a moan you didn’t hold in quick enough.

You put your hands on his thighs so you could brace yourself. Moving your hips in a circle so you were right on his dick. “Holy fuck,” he panted. You were driving him so crazy. He had to touch you. Had to feel how wet you were just for him.

He dipped his fingers into your panties. You were so wet he knew you were probably making a mess on his jeans. He didn’t give a fuck. All he wanted was to make you cum. He missed you to much to care if your pussy made a mess on him.

You had to cover your mouth this time because he’d started rubbing your clit. All soppy and wet. Your hips faltered especially as he lifted up your leg so his other hand could finger your pussy.

“Oh, my god.” You cried into your hands before falling back against him again. You uncovered yourself so you could kiss him instead. Pressing a hungry kiss to his mouth.

It was too much. Him doing both at the same time. You were trying to hold your moans in, but it was hard which is why his kiss just got deeper. Your cunt felt like it was weeping from what he was doing to you. It was way too much.

You were so damn tight. Like he’d dipped his fingers in velvet. While he rubbed your clit. You couldn’t hold your noises in, making you pull him away from him. He stared at you with a smile on his face because you looked so pretty all desperate. “You wanna cum for me?” He asked into your ear. “Wanna cum for Daddy?”

You whimpered, but still nodded because he was right you were so damn close. Hips still angled so you could feel his bulge underneath you. You needed it inside of you so bad.

You grabbed at his cock through his jeans. Needing to feel it in your hands. “You want this, huh. I could take you home and fuck you like a proper girl, but you want me to dick you down at work like a slut,” he said whispered in your ear, taking the hand that was rubbing your clit away so he could stuff his fingers in your mouth.

You moaned around them. Tasting yourself. Moaning as he found your g-spot while he still fingered you. You cried out as he made you cum all over his hand. Eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“That’s it, Baby. Make a mess for me. I want everyone to know when I leave who makes you cum.” He moved to your clit now rubbing it just the way you liked it was driving you crazy.

When your orgasm finally subsided, you got up so you could turn around in his lap. Now that you were facing him he kissed you hard. Grabbing at your ass.

You moved your hips. Looking down at the wet spot you’d left on jeans. “Oh, Daddy,” you whimpered. “You feel so good.”

“That’s it, Honey.”

You chuckled. “You think you’re so fucking funny.”

He laughed reaching between you so he could finally start to undo his pants. “What it’s cute.”

When you finally got to sink down on his dick, you cried out. You felt so full. Like he’d filled you to the brim.

You tossed your head back with your eyes screwed shut as he lifted you up and down his dick. It felt so damn good. You needed it so badly. Needed him to fill you up with his cum.

“You look at me when I fuck you,” he demanded. Grabbing a fistful of pink hair so you were forced to look at him. You opened your eyes so they could meet his. Biting your lip to keep for being too loud again. “This is my pussy don’t you ever forget it.”

“Yes, Daddy. It’s yours,” you breathed trying to not be too loud. “I don’t let anyone else touch me like you do.”

“Yeah?” He asked. “That’s my good fucking girl.” He groaned.

“You’re gonna make me cum again,” you cried because he was so damn thick.

“Cum for me,” he said into your ear making you tingle.

You buried your head into his shoulder as you did. With your pussy walls gripping him like that you couldn’t stop yourself as you started to milk him. Triggering his own orgasm as he captured your lips in another kiss.

“You two, out!” Your bosses voices almost made you jump out of your skin.

“No I’m okay!” You said. “He, um...” you tried to think of a lie. “Because he paid so much I...”

“I’m not running a brothel here.” He glared at you. “You get your shit and get out of my club. Honey, you’re fired.”

He was waited for you outside. Leaning against his Camero. You’d changed back into your sweats. He smiled seeing your normal hair. That bright makeup wiped off. Sad because he was actually really enjoying see you all overly sexed up. “Guess you don’t have to worry about dating a stripper anymore.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said before kissing you.

“It’s okay,” you replied with a shrug.

“Why don’t you come live with me? You won’t have to worry about rent. Or anything.” He chuckled.

“You wanna be my sugar daddy?” You laughed.

“No. I mean sure, but I wanna be your boyfriend. Do things like protect you and take care of you. Is that okay?”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes. “You have to promise me something first,” you said.

“Anything,” he said, grabbing your hands so he could pull you to him.

“Just when the news hits over us, you’ll fight for me. Won’t let your crazy fans treat me to badly.”

He chuckled. “I will personally tell off every single one of them.” He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “Want me to take you home?”

“Yeah I got picked up by one of the girls,” you said. “My place or yours?”

He chuckled. “Ours.” He smiled before kissing you softly.

#Chris Evans smut #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x black woman #chris evans x black!reader

583 notes · View notes

googledocsdyke · 4 years ago

Note

Do you have any thoughts/recommended texts for Cas analysis? I genuinely love the dean gender studies and I just wanna know what people might apply to Cas.

yes absolutely!! while dean studies is my first love i also deeply love cas analysis (casnalysis?) and wanna strive to do more of it. here’s some stuff off the top of my head:

1. gender, sexuality, heavenly embodiment

this is much more theological and less psychological than dean’s whole Deal because there’s so much fascinating stuff around how the angels in general experience express and conceptualise gender (@autisticandroids has a good post about angel gender & lily sunder has some regrets) but for cas in particular there’s this fascinating kind of collective fandom agreement (which i DO also agree with) that cas’ own gender kind of is gay man, that he actively chose gay manhood, but also that he’s kind of..... lacking the Insane Genderishness that dean exhibits at all times, even though he actively chose to engage in male gendering and became so comfortable housed Within Jimmy that he, as some post i saw the other day that i can’t find anymore said, “became his own body” when jimmy died.

like on the one hand there’s an almost-canonical transness to the whole process but it also never feels fully written-into because 1) the supernatural writers for all their insanity are sometimes very boring and *most* of the time only feel interested in narratively expressing angels As Their Vessels anyways and just like leaving convenient spaces around these questions (boldest thing they ever did was hot girl cas which i WISH i had the range to unpack) 2) there’s a vague inevitabilist shrug to the whole thing since they obviously weren’t gonna recast misha collins (though they HAVE tried to get rid of him) and 3) something amorphous about cas’ entire..... personhood? makes him Empty Of Gender as a contrast to dean’s Full Of Gender (i believe it was @deanwinchestergender who said this) and like is it just the juxtaposition to dean/jensen’s whole insane Deal? or something else?

like he actively chooses the terms of his own embodiment and yet narratively it feels like a shrug. and we’re all like “well obviously even though he’s a celestial being he was always a gay man” and like WHY. i love it idk idk much to think about! and yeah just in general the theological questions of possession and cas genuinely Becoming a man as he iterates himself consciously towards humanity it almost feels like. by doing the most boring things possible with his gender they made it interesting? idk if that makes sense.

2. discipline, free will, metanarratives

cas is like a tool (“i am not a hammer, as you say”) held in constant discipline and surveillance by the system that enmeshes him and it’s really, really fascinating to watch the way the angels hold each other to conformity. especially pre-god they kind of produce each other as foucauldian disciplinary subjects (which i posted about here) in perpetual visibility through angel radio, generating their own and each other’s conformity rather than being directly ruled through like a single centralised source of power. only the spectre of a god. and obviously cas’ whole thing is that he has ALWAYS disobeyed and the narrative affords him this psychological interiority never given to the foucauldian subject, an internal will and desire for freedom in a way that fits more with the liberal subject (super roughly and not with the same pro-capitalist implications but he has this internal drive for self-liberation.

and that’s also where the metanarrative comes in ofc! i think it was @dykecas who said that cas is a real person written by people who hate him, and there’s this crack in the narrative (mirroring the crack in his chassis) where cas gets in, over and over, despite all the order imposed by the show’s authorfathergod. like we’ve all seen the analysis about how it was Never supposed to be this way they DID try to fire misha collins in 2012 and yet this gay man literally cannot be stopped! i think actually his appearance in scoobynatural is a neat little distillation of this — he drops into this animated world originally with a singular purpose (Save Sam And Dean) the same way he dropped into lazarus rising with a single 3-episode arc (Save Dean). huge hammer behaviour. his “utility” diminishes within the narrative (he finds that he can’t fly in the scooby doo universe) and so he is no longer a tool/means to an end that salvation moves Through. and in the process (and huge creds to @lesbianyuugi for this) he does something ENTIRELY unrelated to his original cas-as-tool aim, and learns, like, the meaning of laughter from shaggy and scooby. WHICH brings me onto the third point

3. love, queer kinship, family-making

HE’S GAY AND HE’S A DAD! i feel like a lot of tumblr throws around the term “found family” in a very flat and tropey way (which is fine it’s cute and fun no matter what!) but like . GOD there’s so much specific stuff going on here. like the way that cas (unintentionally) obliterates the midwestern white christian nuclear family (made incarnate in the novaks) which like could be uniformly portrayed as an act of deep malice and villainy but instead grows to serve as a surrogate (if imperfect/complex, but DEEPLY loving) father figure for the gay daughter who has now escaped that nuclear family/seen it destroyed depending on how you read it? like he remasters the entire concept of fatherhood and it’s a very interesting (if DEEPLY) unintentional subversion of the homewrecking non-nuclear gay trope. cas is so good because his character arc doesn’t say “look, gay people can be normal and have perfect settled families just like you” it says “gay people DON’T have normal settled families actually and they are full of love anyways! or Because of the abnormalcy itself!)

to cite ziz lesbianyuugi again he DOES queer fatherhood in his parenting of jack particularly because it really is one of the ONLY parent-child relationships in the show that breaks the incessant cycle of abuse and control and cold indifference perpetuated by the authorfathergod (a cycle reified in 15x20 lol). like god’s treatment of cas and his siblings mirrors john’s treatment of sam and dean (particularly dean) mirrors victor’s treatment of krissy and her crew mirrors dean’s later treatment of jack. there is a CONSTANT reiteration of the story of authorfathergod (often a father tightly entwined in biological kinship) treating a child as a mechanism or a tool or a means to an end. and cas looks at ALL that he has suffered and all that he is ever known and chooses constantly to reject it with every piece of love he expresses for his child. and not to sound like the kind of academic people make fun of on twitter but there is an INHERENT queerness to that. gay love will pierce through [the veil of death/the thick silence of abuse/the mechanism of godly control/hegemonic american masculinity] and save the day

anyways here are some very haphazard recs on everything above for further reading:

angels in america (tony kushner)

histrionics of the pulpit: trans tonalities of religious enthusiasm

the public universal friend: religious enthusiasm in revolutionary america

discipline and punish (michel foucault)

friendship as a way of life (michel foucault)

the genesis of blame (recommended by @pietacastiel who has GREAT theology content in general

all about love (bell hooks)

the chapter “when hated characters talk back” in anti-fandom: dislike and hate in the digital age (is actually explicitly about cas)

also cannot recommend enough following the ppl i tagged above!! most of the unlinked stuff is available through http://libgen.li/ and bookshop is a good alternative to amazon if ur american and want physical copies

#thank you so much for this ask it was a delight to answer #spn #casnalysis #making a tag officially #gendernatural #long post

498 notes · View notes

bokugaos · 4 years ago

Text

to live and drink.

pairing: bokuto x reader

length: 1.6k

tags — watersports, piss drinking, oral (m. receiving), corruption, degradation, nipple piercings, sex work/prostitution.

You look out of place in the high-end apartment. There’s not a spec of dirt to be seen anywhere; everything is light and airy and beautifully furnished, and then there you are, looking like you’ve lived on the street for a few weeks.

Bokuto is not sure about the latter, actually; it could actually be that you had been slumming it up on the streets before he met you outside of his favorite club.

You look like you do feel out of place, though. He should perhaps let you get settled, adjust to the new space you’re in, but he has never been a patient person. He is all tingly and dry-mouthed as he watches you, even though it has not been the first time you stepped foot into the apartment. Although, it’s certainly the first time that the security downstairs actually let you in without a hitch.

“Are you sure you want me here?” You ask him in a small voice. It is sort of slurred and you clench your hands in your pockets and wring them a little. You feel electrified and nervous and short of breath. “I can actually work for you, you know.”

When he just blankly stares at you, you clear your throat and whispers: “I can be your maid.”

Bokuto whistles between his teeth and fishes out a cigarette from somewhere, you are not quite sure. He puts it between his lips but does not light it, just rolls it from one corner of his mouth to the other while you stand there cluelessly and looks around like you’re there the first time all over and you haven’t been getting paid to let him fuck you into an incoherent mess a few times now.

“Nah, you don’t have to do anything of that sort!” He waves you off. His voice is doing things to you. Things that make you feel all… giddy. You’ve grown rather independent after all these years, but next to Bokuto, you feel like a schoolgirl. Like you’re going to be put across the Principal’s desk and is going to get your little ass spanked warm.

He is staring at you shrewdly. He looks like he wants to start chewing on the cigarette; like he is actually deep in thought or about to say something. Bokuto taking care of you while puffing on a cigar is making your mouth run dry.

His long legs are eating up the distance between you easily and you watch him advance helplessly. You have not an ounce of survival instinct in him.

You can smell him long before he steps into your personal space; you briefly wonder what you smell like—you probably haven’t properly washed in a long time. Your eyes are glued to the way Bokuto’s cock is straining against the inside of his pants, and once again you swallow thickly—you’re not quite sure you’re worthy of his attention.

Bokuto probably never has dirty things; other than you, that is.

“I think I know what to do with dirty boys like you,” He croons. His drawl is less pronounced all of a sudden as he bears down on you just to let you feel how much smaller you are. Bokuto grabs the hem of your tanktop and twists it tightly between fingers.

You want to deny… anything… everything. You just want to have people happy and make them feel good. But you can only silently gape at Bokuto as your belly is doing fast, delicious flips.

Bokuto grins like he knows what he’s doing to you. He moves like he is the president of the world; like it is his right to have you here, dirty and filthy and disgusting as you are.

He lifts a hand and you wince as if expecting a hit, but all that you get are two blunt fingertips slowly drawing your chin up.

When he swaggers out of the open living room and down the hallway, you follow like a lovesick puppy. You feel sick with excitement when instead of making his way into his bedroom, he turns and opens the door to the spacious bathroom. Big and wide, with a nice large tub and a shower area without walls.

Bokuto grins at you and grabs you by the wrist. You helplessly follow.

—

You can’t believe your luck, to be quite frank. A few weeks ago you had been barely making the rent with a few odd jobs here and there, and now you are in a designer apartment and fucking the cute athlete that you’ve only ever seen on the news and read about on the cover of some magazines.

Bokuto is sweet and sensitive, and you are shocked at how easily he has trusted and let you into his expensive home. You could be a thief, for God’s sake, and you actually do look like one. Maybe the man is just craving attention, or an outlet to destress.

In any case, when he tells you he’s glad that he was the one who stumbles across you and not some weird bastard who would harm you, you feel your cheeks grow very, very warm.

And that’s how he has you on your knees again, letting him teach you with more or less patience to open up your throat so he can pop his cock head past the tight glottal clench again and again and listen to you gag, wet and beautiful on him.

Bokuto’s jaw aches with the need to chew on something, but the cigarette had to leave the moment the water turned on. You are on your knees before him and trying to keep looking at you like some sweet pet that is looking for a reaction, but the water keeps making you squint weirdly. He braces himself with one hand against the shower wall and uses the other to try and shield your eyes from the water.

You hum around his cock like you want to thank him. You even grin around the wide stretch of Bokuto’s big dick and god, you look so cute.

“There ya go… sucking my dick like a good girl,” his praise comes in a singsong manner, and you go a bit cross-eyed.

You try to pull back, looking shocked, but Bokuto doesn’t feel any remorse, and he knows you are about to forget about that one pretty soon. His hips follow your motions, keeping the fat tip nestled against the wet cushion of your tongue. He feels just the edge of teeth for a moment before you seem to get a grip on yourself and opens up a bit wider again.

“Damn stellar, baby girl,” Bokuto coos at you, stepping closer and a bit closer still. He all but cages you in against the wall while the water drums down on his broad back. Like this, he doesn’t have to keep it out of your eyes anymore and can instead curl his palm around your hair.

Keeping you nice and close. Not letting you get away.

He pulls away slightly until only the tip of his cock is resting on your tongue. He stares down at you; how glassy your eyes have gotten. How perfect you look; put together and groomed and decorated with intricate love bites. A little bit more work and you should look presentable, he told you earlier, and you don't know how you deserve him.

(You don’t, probably; but Bokuto has yet to realize that he is way out of your league and that he could get all his nasties from a lot better professionals).

“Nice and relaxed now. Try not to spill anything, kay?” Bokuto croons. He sees the confused twitch of your eyebrows and has a moment of difficulty even getting it started because knowing that he’s going to piss down your beautiful, bared throat is almost too much.

When he finally does relax his bladder and the first dribbles are starting, you don't even react. He probably can’t compute what is happening until you get a good flow going.

Of course you try to pull away at first, shock and disgust warring on his face, but Bokuto doesn’t let you go, and you’re also not biting him.

“There you go,” His thumb strokes your cheek in encouragement. “Drink it up, yeah?”

“Should probably rape your throat instead of showing you nice and gentle how to do it… but you’re so cute. Such a sweet little soul… fuck… fuck look at you… fuck.”

You are staring at him glassy-eyed. You look like a stupid little fuck doll and Bokuto would nut if he weren’t pissing still, his bladder having been painfully full of beer. And then you even gurgle with it; pull your head back and show him the pool of piss in your mouth while he is letting it run down your chin and the front of your chest.

Your plump nipples right there for the taking, pierced through with barbells to help the tips out of the pudgy areolas, and he directs his cock to piss right against one of them while you make a show of slowly swallowing the warm mouth full of piss; like you’re an absolute pro at it and hasn’t been force fed by him.

God, you’re his perfect, angelic little slut.

How fortunate that you are not getting exploited by a nasty man.

#bokuto smut #bokuto x reader smut #bokuto x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader smut #.bokuto!#.fics!

193 notes · View notes

quirklessidiot · 4 years ago

Text

Title: daddy’s first day [coward series au] Pairing: F!Reader x Miya Atsumu Genre: fluff, parents au, slice of life au Synopsis: In which Miya Atsumu takes charge of taking care of the kids for a day Warnings: none!

notes; you don’t need to read coward tbh to read this chapter, its just miya atsumu navigating his life as a daddy hshsshs [side stories are updated every friday] read the series here! [ ss;; one, two, three, four ]

“...Remember that Youta is allergic to shrimps and Yuuto’s got sensitive skin, I have all the medication in case anything happens and Yuuto has his soap in the bathroom in a separate container, just make sure that the water isn’t too cold nor too hot and remind him to wear sunscreen every two hours.” You explain, placing the last of your valuables in your bag “...I’m also on speed dial and you also have the number of their pediatricians on your number 2 speed dial, I also have the food in the tupperware prepared the night before-”

“Y/N, sweetheart, please calm down. I’m not going to kill our kids when you’re gone for the next nine hours.” he frowns at how distrusting you were towards him. okay, he admitted that he may have hated the boys at first but that was before. They were your kids now, that was totally different! They weren’t some random brats on the street! You should have a little faith in him!

“Atsumu, you almost burned down the house while making scrambled eggs.” You expressed, a glint of amusement on your eyes, “Would you like me to call ‘samu-san or Daiki-san?”

He scoffed at the mention of those two men, after ‘samu found out that he was actually an Uncle of those kids, he suddenly had a one hundred sixty degree change of attitude. Of course, Atsumu was happy that you guys got along and the kids seemed to start warming up to him but it seemed like you trusted ‘samu more these days and that daiki too.

“Alright, just help them with their homework and heat up the food okay? I have everything prepared.” You leaned in to give him a quick peck on the temple before leaving. He watches you leave the house in a hurry for work with a frown on his lips.

Married life with you was easy, you were like a superwoman. A great mom, a great co-worker, even a greater wife. How come he couldn’t be as half as good as you? Like be a cool dad to your kids or something? He couldn’t even cook the damn eggs well and there you were, making some Michelin star cuisine while making your kids happy and content and your work life thriving.

“Oh,” Yuuto’s brow is scrunched together as he exits his shared room with his brother, see, that’s what he gets from the kids, awkwardness and insults (mostly insults,really), “You know ever since you came back, ‘kaasan’s always been busy and hasn’t been spending time with us.”

“Yeah.” Youta yawns, scratching his eyes as he exits the room, “You even make bad food, I think you should just keep playin’ volleyball or something.”

Atsumu feels a tick on his forehead, they were definitely his sons that’s for sure.

“I’m trying here.”

Yuuto stifles as chuckle at his father’s reply, wanting to comfort him, he told him a little fact that their ojisan told him recently, “Sure you are, you’re doing a lot better than okaasan, Daiki-ojisan said okaasan didn’t know how to hold us until we were three or four.” the eight year old grinned.

Atsumu grabs a tupperware from the fridge that’s labelled ‘breakfast’ and proceeds to heat it up on the microwave, “I’m sure that’s a lie. Your okaasan seems to do very well now, it’s hard to imagine her messing up.”

He watches them eat their egg rolls and bacon, time flies quick these days. The boys were already eight years old and were getting more and more into volleyball. Youta exclaimed he wanted to be a pro like him while Yuuto wanted to be like you (although he still played volleyball a lot because he had the competitive streak thanks to his father)

“Can we invite Tobio-ojisan on our birthday?” Yuuto asks while Atsumu rolls his eyes, he can’t believe that this kid still idolized that idiot. He beated him thrice already! (okay, Tobio had beated him five times including high school nationals but still)

“Oh also, Shoyou-ojisan then we can play against them!” Youta grins, mouth stuffed with egg rolls. Atsumu grimaces at him then grabs a napkin to wipe off the rice on the side of his lip, “How are you guys not impressed by me?” their father grumbles.

“You’re our otosan.” Yuuto deadpanned.

“Yeah, we see you everyday.” Youta added.

After helping the kids out in the bath (especially Yuuto since apparently he needed a temp check for the water), he had them do their projects and assignments (you had a long list on what they should accomplish today and one of them was a science planetary object)

The thing is though, he wasn’t very good at that.

He ended up having ‘samu on speaker to help the kids as they choked on their laughter because their otosan still thought that Pluto was a planet.

It also didn’t help when their math assignments came up, oh boy, Youta had a problem with one number and when he tried to explain to Atsumu that there was a new way to solve that and that their sensei had told them to solve it that way, he got pissed, “I don’t know that way! Why would they change math? MATH IS MATH!” He screeches at the notebook as if it had done something wrong to him.

Safe to say, Yuuto had a field day as he watched his otosan frustratingly solve the math problem whilst muttering something about how math was complicated and they didn’t need to change up the equations. Youta, on the other hand, had to calm him down and tell him they could just use the old way to solve the problem.

“...I want pizza.”

“Your mom left us dinner.”

“It says here on the note that you have to bake it in the oven.” Yuuto reads out loud, “ ‘Samu-ojisan says that you shouldn’t touch an oven though.”

Atsumu feels like he’s aging quick because of these two kids, how is it that they were such angels to you but little devils towards him? “...when they’re angels, they’re Y/N’s kids but when they become devils, they’re yours.” ‘Samu jokes.

Ah, he felt his forehead tick on that statement. He had some pretty redeeming qualities that he passed on to his kids like his looks and skills in volleyball!

“Otosan, I don’t think you should put the tupperware in the oven.”

“I know what I’m doing here.”

Clearly, he didn’t. He ended up melting the plastic tupperware and having to call for takeout right after. The three of them looked at the melted tupperware and the food spillage in the oven, “Okaasan really likes those tupperwares.” Youta points out.

“I’ll buy her ten new ones.” Atsumu grimaced at the food in the oven, he should clean that and get rid of all the evidence when you come home in an hour. In fact, he should just buy a new oven because he thinks the smell is permanent there, “Wanna watch a movie before you go to bed? I promise I’ll cover for you.”

“You just don’t want us to tell okaasan that you melted her tupperware.” Yuuto pointed out.

“Pffft…” Atsumu laughs, pretending to shake it off, “I would not.”

“Extra scoop of ice cream on Sunday.”

“Yeah!” Youta echoes.

Atsumu narrows his eyes, “Deal.”

They ended up sprawling on the couch after putting on their pajamas. The kids sip their milk next to him, after seeing Kageyama drinking loads of it, the boys decided that if a big boy like Kageyama Tobio could drink milk, they could to (Osamu crackles because they didn’t seem to listen to Atsumu lecturing them about the benefits of milk) Halfway through the movie, the kids fell asleep and the blonde feels his eyes shut soon after too.

You come in quietly as you notice the quiet chatter of the TV and the figures of your three boys on the couch, all snuggled together. Your heart immediately softens as soon as you see the domestic scene in front of you. Something you probably never could imagine before, your boys. You take a picture before waking your husband up with a light kiss on the jaw, “You look like you had a fun day.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

“I hate math assignments.” was all he could reply.

You silently chuckled as you picked up Youta, “I’ll put the kids to bed, mind running me a bath?”

“Can I join in?” Atsumu suddenly awakened as soon as he heard what you said, a smirk dancing on his lips, “Save water and all that?”

“Are you really going with me in the tub?” You narrowed your eyes, “Last time we did that together, we ended up having two kids.”

“What’s another two more?”

“Miya Atsumu.”

taglist [officially closed, if you guys want to be removed for the side stories, feel free to tell me hehe ilyasm and thank you once again, coward wouldn’t be possible without all you people + other readers]

@fortheloveofiwaizumi ; @svtbitch ; @kiyoomile ; @lovedanii ; @juno-multifandom ; @gyubit17 ; @saeranoppa ; @nixxona ; @kyomihann @shorttstackk ; @intoomuchfandoms ; @yammmers ; @mx-minxx @itsmattsunshinehere ; @missingmystogan ; @volleybloop ; @imcravingyou ; @yams-wants-that-booty ; @liathachcapricious ; @pinknugget @seikamuzu ; @marigoldthoughts ; @sillykittt ; @baejinoffcl ; @alluring-akaashi ; @bnhasstuff ; @intheawks ; @bokuakadaily ; @agaassi ; @yams046 ; @dope-squish ; @chrisrue15 ; @vermillionwaves ; @demursv1ogs ; @just-snog-already ; @angmarwitch ; @simpingonothers ; @woo-youngs ; @cowward ; @chaelysian ; @sempiternal-amour ; @jungshookmeup ; @jovialnoise ; @karlitabi-rrito ; @iwaizluv ; @sugarandsoft ; @tspice283 ; @ohshirabu ; @syzygymai ; @volleybloop ; @oikaw-ugh ; @pockytokyo ; @differentballooncollection ; @keniloveshaikyuu ; @turquoiselace ; @playboygeniusphilanthropist ; @keijislut ; @notyourbitchboy

@misosamu @Etherynaw @ryaaaax @allysasteaparty @mikaashi @brownie0food @ph10xy @Chocolaterumble [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]

#miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu fanfiction #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons

535 notes · View notes

unholyeverything · 4 years ago

Text

Why I think Lucifer and Diavolo do trust each other.

And are in love.

It’s just that there is quiet a big post going around now where people hate on the ship and put that in the dialuci tag. And tbh. Just don’t tag that if you don’t like it, don’t engage with it.

But I wanted to add my own thoughts into the discussion. Because people tend to interpret canon scenes subjectively, how they want to reprieve something, they put more thought into something, more than what’s actually there. Like when you like it, you interpret it in that way, if you don’t you interpret it in this way. That’s normal, anybody is free to do that, just leave the people alone that do otherwise. Watch your own plate as I like to say! Tagging these type of things in the ship tags is just typical: I’m trying to pick senseless fights type of behavior!

One of the biggest arguments as to why this relationship is thought off as toxic by some people it that Diavolo forced him into a pact with his sister’s death. But did he really? Or was that a pro gamer move to actually get his trust and respect?

The pact that Diavolo offered was the life of Lilith for Lucifer’s eternal loyalty, right? Again, was it forced. Or did he have an option to decline?

Here is what I think about that: Lucifer does not trust Diavolo when they first met in the Devildom when he still was an angel. [There is a Devilgram about this.] It is clearly stated that the angels have some prejudices and just think demons are all in general bad and untrustworthy.

He still had that mindset when he first ended up there. The war happened in heaven, he never really had contact with demons outside of that to get to know them personally and to start thinking about them differently!

So do you really think he would have accepted Dia’s help, that would come from the goodness of his heart, that he didn't believe was there?

No, he wouldn't. So Diavolo thought about something that he could already offer him as a trade for his sisters life. Because Lucifer wouldn't have accepted, his Pride would not let him accept any help without giving something back. And Dia already knew that, or at least he seems intelligent enough to me to reprieve things like that. He knows about Lucifer's personality, they met before!

Also Dia couldn’t have asked for something of little value to Lucifer. Because it was his sister they were talking about, something he deemed very important, not worth trading for a small favour. Dia couldn't just ask him to trade a life with having him wash his feet once or something. He also wouldn't have accept that.

It needed to be something that he thought of as equal value as his sister, that's why Diavolo came up with asking for his eternal loyalty.

And that is what I think actually made Lucifer trust him. He has his cards layed out in front of him. He didn't have to fear that Diavolo would ask of something for it later. Because he trusted demons so little so that's what I think was what he was afraid of. Repercussion. Having to do something he didn't want to. Having something someone could blackmail him with. Having something the future King of hell could hold against him. He was told right from the start what he wanted from him and he could accept or not.

That's how Dia actually built trust with him. By also letting him know that he didn’t take this lightheartedly. That this was serious for him as well. Nothing to make jokes about, nothing to just brush over and forget, nothing that could be made up for with a simple one time order. It needed to be something that the strongest and most proud of all archangels accepted as equal value as his dearest sister.

And honestly I'm also not letting the argument count that Lucifer wants a purely professional relationship with him. There is enough evidence that that isn't the case.

Diavolo is head over heals for him and never stops praising him whenever he speaks of him, and not just about his work. He states multiple times how divine he is, that is not something that is just geared towards looks, it can mean personality and the person as a whole too.

Would you ask your Boss to go to a fast food place with you? If you were purely professional? Because in the chat it clearly states that it was Lucifer that planned this, they just couldn’t do it together because of work.

Diavolo says that Lucifer is his only friend. He is the only one that can make him beg, he goes out of his way to spend time with him outside of work.

SPOILER, SKIP THE NEXT PART:

During the newer lessons, the scene where Diavolo just leaves with Solomon instead of Lucifer. Lucifer tries everything in his knowledge to find out what Diavolo did or wants to do. He even asks Mammon for help. He feels betrayed. There can’t be any betrayal without there being trust beforehand.

SPOILER END.

Sure his brothers tease him for doing everything he tells him to. But honestly. That could just be siblings teasing each other. He clearly goes against him when his siblings are involved. And Diavolo listens and respects his opinion. He also wouldn’t do that if he just wanted a slave.

And him not admitting to that, or trying to push him off is just a combination of his personality and pride in my opinion. He can't be proud of himself or live out his sin as much as his other brothers do, since he has to listen to orders, and has to work for others, which is pretty much the opposite of what the avatar of Pride is about. So he projects it onto Diavolo and tries his hardest to make sure everyone is proud of him and what he achieved. He is proud of him, and holds Diavolo as his projection of his pride. He is the one everyone should look up to. He is showing off not with what he achieved, but with what Diavolo achieved. He puts his opinion as high as he should actually put his own if he truly was the personification of pride!

And it will be Lucifer's pride that will make sure everything goes as perfectly as possible.

#obey me #obey me theory #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #dialuci #diavolo x lucifer #obey me writing #obey me headcannon #obey me demons #obey me brothery #obey me undatables #this is my 500th post #I'm so proud and happy it's this #it couldn't be more perfect #precious potatoes #myfic

210 notes · View notes

wackybuddiemewbs · 4 years ago

Text

Random Buddie Fic Snippets - no title, just (bad) vibes

Here’s to another snippet of things that ghost through my Word files. This one’s particularly headache-inducing for me personally. For one, trigger warnings galore. And then I have *checks file* 41k (!!!) words worth of non-fic noted down, but it’s really just unassembled bits and pieces of mostly dialog. Grrrrrrr. 😖

Since such a fic would take a lot more planning... which is basically the antithesis of me for all intents and purposes... I pester you with snippets like they are pestering me. Said it before and can only reiterate: I make you suffer with me. *cackles*

Basically, the story plays on the idea that Eddie and Buck grew up together due to plot convenient purposes and meet again at the fire station after years apart. Anyway, here’s to more madness mingled with angst! Cheers!

Buck slings his duffel bag over his shoulder when his phone vibrates. Sighing, he shifts his weight to take it out of his pocket and take the call. A smile creeps up his lips when he sees the picture flare up on his screen.

“Hey, what’s up, Mads?”

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know that you were right about that little bakery downtown. It’s so worth the twenty minute trip,” she nearly groans. And Buck can relate. When he found that authentic Mexican bakery on a long run through the city, he may or may not have shed a few tears of happiness. And he may or may not have bought pastry worth a hundred bucks.

Totally worth it to run all those extra miles for the carbs, though.

“How many conchas did you have?” Buck asks, chuckling softly.

“I’m pleading the fifth.”

“Did you drive back to get more?” he questions, though Buck is fairly sure what the answer is already, which comes promptly, “Which is why I might be late for work.”

Buck laughs, leaning back against his car. “They are in the top 5 of conchas I ever had, which is saying something. So yeah, I get the feeling.”

And he should really know, he’s had the best in the world and no. 2 and 3 also. Though those are not up for sale.

“So, I need a bit of distraction to keep myself from digging through the remains of the bag before I make it to the car,” she tells him.

“Sure, what do you want to hear?”

“Howie told me that you’re getting someone new on the team today. Are you excited?”

“… Oh, ugh, sure.” Buck can feel his jaw cramping at that.

“You know you just sounded more excited about me being on a sugar high thanks to Mexican pastry than you are about your new teammate arriving.”

He’d hoped to avoid that conversation before he got over with it. Because that’s how he normally rolls with it. He gets over with it.

Works with band-aids and most situations that give you discomfort.

But Maddie has maybe not the sixth but seventh sense apparently big sisters seem to inherit by birth, so it appears that not even the most amazing conchas up for sale in all of Los Angeles will spare him having that conversation now. Which is the equivalent of tearing duct tape off, but slowly.

“I’m a huge concha fan, what can I say? And sure, it’s cool. It’d be nice to have a partner on the team, like, permanently, like Chim and Hen, more like.”

Buck rolls his eyes back as far as they will into his skull. It’s a small wonder that Maddie doesn’t buy his bullshit. He was fine just dodging the topic until now, it’s what normally works best for him. But yeah, Maddie just knows how to coax it out of him, and he loves and hates her for it.

“Talk to me, Buck.”

Buck looks up to the sky. “… I guess I’m just a bit nervous.”

“You are nervous? Don’t you think it’s up to the new teammate to be a bundle of nerves?”

“That’s kind of my thing, though,” Buck argues.

He has been ever since Bobby announced that they’d get a newbie, not a probie, but someone to be on the team with them. Dutifully, Buck laughed at the comments about how Bobby seemingly hired him a babysitter to make sure he doesn’t do reckless stuff all the time.

The nervous energy settled in when he got home that day and his leg wouldn’t stop bobbing well into lying in bed, trying to sleep. He only fell asleep halfway through reading the Wikipedia list of minor planets named after people.

“Then why do you feel nervous?”

“It’s nothing.”

“You know you can tell me,” she says softly.

Buck closes his eyes. He understood by now that yes, he can. But that doesn’t mean he wants to. Most of the time, Buck wished he didn’t have to tell anyone anything ever again and simply exist in the here and now. Because the here and now is sunny and tastes of pretty damn awesome conchas.

“I know it’s stupid, but…” His voice trails off.

And maybe she can read his mind, Buck wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be the case, because Maddie goes on to say, “You know he’s not taking your place, right?”

“What? Yeah, I mean…” Buck chews on his bottom lip. Whenever Maddie starts to talk like that, he feels like he’s sitting with a therapist. And suddenly, what he wants to believe are just his antics sounds like food for the shrinks.

“This is supposed to be your partner. Someone to have your back, not stab you in the back,” Maddie points out.

“Rationally, I know all that. It’s just…” He stretches out his legs.

“It’s just what?” she asks in a gentle tone of voice.

“What if he’s better than me?”

What if they realize that he’s expendable after all? What if someone comes along who can do things better than Buck without the attitude? What if he can’t prove his worth anymore because that guy can do it just as well, maybe even better?

“Then I will be glad because that means someone capable is watching out for my baby brother,” Maddie answers, pulling Buck back to the current conversation, not the fictional ones inside his head.

“What if we end up hating each other’s guts?” Buck continues. He had to restrain himself from actually typing a list of all those questions on his phone when his mind went spiraling upon receiving the news. Because that’s what’s been going on ever since Bobby announced. And Buck knows how stupid it is, but his brain didn’t get the memo. There are so many what ifs that it’s making him dizzy thinking about them.

“Then you talk about it like actual adults. And anyway, no one can hate you to your guts. You’re amazing.”

Buck has to fight hard not to blush. “Thanks, but you’re biased because you’re my sister.”

His heart still beats a little faster every time he says those words out loud. Something that comes so light and casual these days, though it isn’t. It is closer to what it should be. Because it should be casual, natural, given.

But apparently, the world didn’t get that memo yet. Seemingly a pattern.

“And as your sister, I’m also always right.”

“Are not.”

“Are too.”

He laughs. She chuckles back.

“Listen,” Maddie continues. “Just be yourself. You’re going to figure it out. This is exciting, Buck. More people to add to your family, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks,” he croaks.

“I’ll call you during lunch time, unless you’re out on a call. And then I want all the details on the newbie.”

“Alright. Pro tip: Put the bag of pastries in the trunk of your car. Only way to keep your paws off of them while driving.”

“I may actually crawl back, but yeah, it’d require a lot more effort.”

He smiles. “Drive save.”

“Will do.”

“Alright, I’m heading in,” Buck says, pushing away from his car. “Or else I will be running late, too.”

“Love you, little brother.”

“Love you, too. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

Buck hangs up and stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

Maddie is right. There is nothing to be nervous about. He has a team now. No one is leaving. New people are arriving. That’s how it works. That’s normal. And he gets to pester the newbie. So he should really be excited, as Maddie said. Buck knows he should focus on that. On how great this could turn out to be. On having a partner. Someone to have his back. All the time.

He sucks in a deep breath as he comes to stand in front of the door leading inside the fire station.

“The door is not closed,” he mutters with closed eyes, grabbing the handle. Buck pushes inside. He is greeted by the familiar hum of the fire station coming to life. People are talking over coffee, some are still fastening the buttons on their shirts as they make up the stairs.

And there’s no place he’d rather be. Buck knew that the moment he first walked into the station for the first time, and that assessment hasn’t changed since.

Buck makes for the locker rooms to change, not wanting to run late like Maddie. Once changed into his uniform, Buck finds himself a little more at ease. Athena once pointed out that they wear those uniforms as a way of protecting themselves. You take them off after work and leave all the bad behind that you’ve witnessed on a call. For Buck, the other way is just as true, though.

When he puts on that uniform on, he can leave his anxious, knee-bobbing self behind and do something meaningful. Because that’s what he found here, beside the team that means so much to him. He found a purpose. A way of answering a calling that lies far back in a past he can’t and won’t remember. To save lives.

Buck looks at his reflection in the mirror, straightens out the collar, makes sure his hair sits perfectly. His glance lingers on the name tag a moment longer, brushes his fingers over the metal plate, the one thing he can’t fix or straighten out.

But that won’t make me flinch. Ever.

“Buckaroo! Time for coffee and talk! I need new material on that show Denny and you are watching and that you need to update me on, so I don’t have to watch it!”

Buck smiles as he closes the locker to see Hen standing there with two cups of coffee.

“Coming.”

But that fixes a whole lot already.

-------------------

Hen sips her coffee in silence as Bobby goes on about who is doing what for the day. She is glad that she isn’t assigned truck cleaning duty. That’s one of the best things about newbies and probies coming in. They get to do the dirty work for a bit. She had to jump those hoops, too, like everyone did, so it only seems fair.

Chim nudges her in the side, pulling her out of her musings. “Have you seen the newbie yet?”

She nudges him back a bit harder to tell him wordlessly that he is supposed to stop doing that. “If I had, don’t you think I would’ve told you by now?”

“Just saying, being late on the first day is not a good sign.”

“Can I help you with something, Han, Wilson?” Bobby calls out. “Care to share with the rest of the team?”

Buck laughs beside them, earning himself a nudge from Hen. That kid is going places sometimes, but Hen learned to love him fiercely after he stopped being a punk.

Fine, he’s still a punk sometimes, but we got to see there’s a heart of gold underneath all the punk and muscle and hair gel.

He grew on her the way he managed to grow on anyone, even the Captain who doesn’t like to admit that more than anyone around the station. He fired the boy first week in, and it was well-deserved, but he proved capable and kind.

Hen knew she was done for this humanoid golden retriever when she fussed over not having a babysitter for Denny and Buck jumped in after he’d just done a double-shift. She and Karen were still working things out and he just made the room, even though the boy deserved bed more than anyone else. Still, he took Denny to the park, finished homework with him, and got him to go to bed even though the kid is not so much a negotiator as he is a small dictator when it comes to bedtime. Karen and she found Buck passed out, snoring like a lawnmower, a book still in his lap while sitting next to Denny’s bed.

“Nothing, Cap,” Chimney answers. “Just sharing excitement about the newbie.”

“You’ll meet him shortly. He had to pick up his gear first and talk to the higher-ups another time. Once he arrives, you can pester him with questions as I know you will.”

“On it, Cap.”

Bobby rolls his eyes, but then his mind goes back to the clipboard and the rest of the chores yet to be divided among the firefighters on shift. The rest of the morning routine goes without further incident, so the three are soon walking down the stairs to their designated task of checking their stocks on medical equipment.

“Okay. That is a beautiful man,” Chimney says, suddenly stopping in his tracks.

Hen trains her eyes on the dark-haired Latino, putting on a shirt. That should be the newbie, then.

“Where’s the lie? And I like girls.”

“Eddie…,” Buck breathes beside her.

Hen whips her head around at the sound.

“Wait, you know this guy?” Chim asks, but Buck doesn’t say anything. Instead, he starts to walk towards the new guy, or almost staggers, she should rather say. The newbie only takes notice of him when his head pops out from the shirt.

“Buck?”

To Hen, it feels like the two just go in slow motion while the rest of the fire station is crazy and busy as always. As though the whole world disappeared around them.

She can’t make out whatever words may be exchanged between them before the new guy covers the last few steps between them and pulls Buck against him in a tight hug. Shock is written all over his face, but also huge relief. Though Hen honestly wished they stood the other way around, because she would like to know just what expression is flitting across her little golden retriever’s face.

“What on earth is going on here?” Chimney mutters.

“I ain’t got no clue.”

The newbie pulls away, smiling over both ears, both hands deftly resting on Buck’s arms. Even though Hen still can’t see Buck’s face, it seems that the guy is doing all the talking for a change. Then he is hugging him all over again.

“I repeat, what on earth is going on here?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Before they can overcome their paralysis, Buck starts to move, gesturing behind himself. The new guy nods with the brightest of smiles, not once letting go of Buck’s arm as they start to walk towards them.

Her confusion is multiplied by the way Buck carries himself, eyes downcast, looking nothing but nervous.

Did someone exchange the 118’s golden retriever this morning, or what’s going on here?

“... can’t believe we meet again in this place of all places,” she can hear the new guy say as they approach.

“S, same.”

Buck is stuttering. To repeat the repeat: What on earth is going on here?

“We have so much catching up to do.”

“Yeah.”

“Buckaroo?” Hen calls out, or maybe demands. She no longer cares for the details here. She needs to get down to the bottom of this. Fast.

“Oh, sorry, I just… this is Eddie.”

“Hi.”

“Hi Eddie, it is a pleasure meeting you. We will greet you good and proper in only just a moment. Hold the line,” Hen says, before turning her attention back to Buck. “Now to you, Buckaroo. Spill the beans.”

“Yeah,” Chim agrees.

But Buck is not forthcoming. Boy looks like a fish out of the water, his mouth opening and closing without any sounds coming out. This makes the sirens ring inside Hen’s head, not the ones at the station. Because their Buckaroo never stops talking, even when he should sometimes, and even when he wants to stop talking, he will keep talking. So him not finding anything to say may or may not force Mother Hen to have to look after her punk chick here.

“We grew up together,” Eddie says after a pause, still all soft smiles and maybe even softer curls, by the looks of it. Hen will worry about that later, too. “I honestly had no clue he was working at this station, let alone that he was in L.A. Color me surprised. Abuela will not believe this.”

“Abuela?”

“My grandmother. She’s the one who fostered him before…,” Eddie continues, but then stops himself when he notices the look of sheer panic on Buck’s face. “They do not know this.”

Buck shakes his head.

“Dios.”

“Wait, you were in foster care?” Chimney almost cries out.

“In Texas?” Hen adds, her mind still short-circuiting thanks to that input.

“Yeah. I was adopted by the Moores after that.”

Chimney gapes at him. “You were adopted?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, they don’t know about that either?” Eddie asks, now almost as frantic as they are.

Welcome to the club, hon.

“Now they do,” Buck mutters.

“But Maddie isn’t adopted. I should know.” Chimney lifts his index finger.

“Right,” Hen agrees.

Eddie makes a face. “Who’s Maddie?”

“My girlfriend, Buck’s sister.”

“You have a sister?” Eddie slaps his hand against Buck’s arm, shock taking the place of confusion.

“Wait, you grew up with him and don’t know his sister?”

“It’s a long story,” Buck sighs.

“Like how you’re Texan?” Hen scoffs.

Buck holds up his hands. “Okay, guys, can we stop spiraling for a second?”

Hen opens her mouth to give him a piece of mind, but she’s abruptly cut off by their captain standing at the top of the stairs. “Buck! I could use a hand up here!”

“On my way, Cap!” Buck yells back, the amount of relief to opt out of the conversation more than imminent. “Sorry, duty calls!”

“Hey no,” Chim hisses, but Buck isn’t having it. He pats Eddie on the shoulder. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay.”

With that, he starts to jog, or rather run, up the stairs. All watch him go, before their eyes fall back on the people standing right in front of them.

Well, if that’s not awkward.

“So, ugh. Hi again,” the new guy says, smiling sheepishly. “Eddie Diaz, your newbie.”

“Hi. Hen Wilson.”

“Howard Han, but you can call me Chimney or Chim. And why I’m called that is between me and God.”

“Okay. That may be only the second most confusing thing to happen on my first day.”

“We don’t normally act like this,” Hen tries to reassure him.

Chim makes a face. “We don’t?”

Hen nudges him in the side hard enough to make Chim gasp.

“Wilson, Han, you’re supposed to get on with the stocks!” someone calls out.

“You’re not our boss!” Chim shouts back at what turns out to be that jackass Lambert from B-roll no one likes because his attitude stinks about as much as his aftershave.

“But Cap is and he told me to tell you to move it!”

“I hate that guy,” Chim grumbles.

“I think I’ll like it here,” Eddie chuckles.

“They are so young and innocent when they join,” Chim snorts.

“Welcome to the 118,” Hen says, giving the younger man’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I suppose you should go up there as well and talk to the captain.”

“Alright, I’ll see you around.”

“Most certainly.”

“That was only mildly threatening,” Chim laughs, rolling his eyes well before Hen jabs him another time.

“Good to have you here,” he adds.

“Indeed.”

“Good to be here. See you later.”

“Later,” both say in unison.

Eddie smiles at them before climbing up the stairs.

“You try to get a hold of your boo, I’ll see what info I can squeeze out of Cap or Buck, whoever I get my hands on first.”

“Aren’t we supposed to get on with…”

Hen glowers at him.

“I said nothing.”

“Less talking to me, more talking to your girlfriend.”

Chimney makes a mock salute, before walking away while fiddling with his phone. Hen let’s her gaze wander up to the gallery with a grimace. Something is not right, but she is going to figure it out. Because Hen Wilson keeps all her little chicks on track, even more so now that they got a new one to take care of.

-------------------

Eddie tosses the sponge into the water bucket. Getting some of the crappier chores for the day is something he fully expected to happen. What he didn't expect, not in a million years, was running into Buck. Eddie’s head is still reeling because of it. And for what it seems, the same is true for Buck.

Buck.

To say that he seemed shocked is an understatement. Eddie knows the way Buck expresses panic. He’s grown up making sure the kid breathed instead of keeling over when it hit him, so Eddie knows that this was not just surprise, this was fight-or-flight level panic. Eddie knows by now he was so panicked because his colleagues didn’t know about the fostering or adoption – and he could still kick himself for bringing it up unawares.

He jumped to the conclusion because Buck used to talk about it freely to anyone who asked, especially after he was adopted by the Moores. Because it was his way of signifying to the rest of the world that he’d made it from being abandoned to finding friends and family. So Eddie assumed that Buck wouldn’t act any different around his colleagues.

Far from it!

“Eddie, my friend.”

Eddie nearly jumps when Hen and Chimney materialize next to him.

Speaking of…

“Hi,” he greets them.

“How’re you liking it thus far?”

“The detergents smell not as bad as some others do,” Eddie snorts. “But I’m pretty sure that’s not what you came here to ask me about.”

“Just so that you know, you can tell us anything,” Hen says in that mild tone of voice, though Eddie is pretty sure she only says it this way not to scare him away.

“You are looking for bribing material on Buck, I take?”

“We always appreciate it, but we are more like… trying to get up to speed. Until you came to the station, we didn’t even know he’d been fostered,” Hen answers.

“Or adopted,” Chimney adds.

“In Texas.”

Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, about that. So he actually found his sister?”

If seeing Buck nearly floored him, hearing about his sister was definitely not adding to Eddie’s calm.

“Yes, she’s my girlfriend. You’ll get to know her soon enough.”

There is a part in Eddie that’s very much relieved to hear that Buck found at least part of his family, but another part of him hurts at the news just as much. Because that means Buck likely learned some very uncomfortable truths about his past that won’t have added to the man’s confidence.

“Back in Texas, we knew nothing about where he came from, including whether he had siblings or not. There was an assumption, but no one could be sure.”

“How old were you by the time your grandmother fostered him?”

“I was eight years old.”

“Eight years old… Buck made it sound like he and Maddie were out of touch like, only by the time she got to know Doug.”

Eddie frowns. “Who’s Doug?”

“No one you want to know.” Chimney shakes his head.

Eddie shakes his head. All of this starts to make less and less sense. Why didn’t Buck tell them about any of this? Why didn’t he when he apparently found his sister? Why are they about as clueless as he is, even though they’ve been working side-by-side with him for how long now?

“We lost sight of each other when the Moores moved away from Texas. So they aren’t around anymore?”

Hen shrugs at that. “Let’s say we’ve never met them, never talked about them, or seen any pictures.”

“Kid arrived here with a travel bag and the will to become a firefighter,” Chimney adds.

Eddie can’t help but smile at that. “That sounds like him.”

“You sound pretty clueless actually, and not gonna lie, that is strangely reassuring,” Chimney snorts.

“I prepared for meeting many new people today. Not my best friend back from childhood.”

“Aw.” Hen clutches her hands in front of her chest.

“I just hope he’s not mad at me.” Eddie grimaces. There is something tugging at his heart, just thinking about it. A memory that goes way back in time. When he thought he’d messed it up with Buck forever and always, but he forgave quicker than Eddie could forgive himself.

“I don’t remember our Buckaroo being capable of keeping grudges for long.”

“Then that hasn’t changed at least,” Eddie sighs.

“I think you two should definitely get something to drink after work, reminiscence about the good old times. Catch up. Report back to us in the morning,” she says, her voice trailing off.

“You are aware that they are childhood friends.”

“But I can be far more intimidating.”

“I think getting something to drink and catch up is actually a good idea,” Eddie ponders. “So thanks.”

“You, I like.”

Eddie grins.

“You still missed a spot, though.”

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. Buck made some good friends here, for what it seems. And he is more than glad for it. They can surely figure this all out.

-------------------

Waking up this morning, Buck thought his biggest worry would be to sort himself out with regards to the newbie and his standing on the team as a result. While that remains true, he just didn't imagine for one hot second it may be Eddie of all people in the entire universe.

Eddie.

When Buck saw him at the station, he didn’t know how to breathe. Even though he hadn’t seen him in years, he knew instantly, only to know that he suddenly knew nothing anymore. Buck used to think he made his peace never seeing Eddie again after they moved away, but then Eddie was hugging him and all those things Buck made sure to bury deep in the ground started to crawl up through the dirt, scratching at a way too thin surface.

And now he is sitting at a bar, nursing his alcohol free beer – because he doesn’t drink when driving, he has to get people out of cars thanks to that behavior way too often, thank you very much. He is at a bar. With Eddie. His Eddie. Because Eddie invited him to get a beer after the shift, and Buck didn’t know how to say no.

Story of my life, isn’t it?

“… I don’t even know where to begin,” Buck admits after a while of awkward silence spreading between them, wherein both men just started peeling the label off of their bottles of beer.

“Same. I mean, you got a sister.”

“Yeah, ugh, I would have told you that, but Chim is still over the moon with her, so of course he mentioned her before I could. They are cute together, but at the disgusting kind of stage,” Buck ponders.

“I’m just so happy for you that you found your family, Buck.”

He manages a feeble smile. Because Buck knows that Eddie means it, understands it perhaps better than most. Because he had to deal with it growing up, had to deal with Buck dealing it growing up.

“I didn’t really find Maddie. We just… happened to meet again. Like us two did today.”

Eddie blinks at him. “Really?”

Buck nods his head. The universe always had the strangest kind of humor when it came to him.

“She’s a dispatcher now. We talked over dispatch for a while, not knowing who we are to each other. We decided to hang out. As friends. She didn’t know people in the city after she moved there only recently, so we also went to a pub and… we started to talk.”

Déjà-vu much, huh?

“Over time, I told her some stuff about my past and, well, Maddie realized that the timing seemed oddly familiar to the brother she thought had died,” Buck continues. “DNA test confirmed it.”

“I was wondering about that,” Eddie sighs, still trying to process that input for what it seems. “I mean, I really put my foot in it, just blurting out with this.”

Buck holds up his hands. “Eddie, no. You had any reason to believe I had told them. I suppose I’ve been blowing this up out of proportions anyway, so this is really just on me.”

“It’s your choice what you want to share with people about yourself, Buck.”

Buck blinks. Sometimes, he forgets how wise Eddie used to be already at a young age. He was also a dumbass a lot of times, but when it came to talking about Buck’s feelings instead of his own, the guy always knew how to make sense of the chaos and make Buck feel like his feelings weren’t just a tedious affair best ripped off like band-aids.

Eddie always understood Buck, even when he couldn’t understand himself. And Buck wants to think that the same was true the other way around, for as long as it lasted.

“Thanks.”

Eddie smiles at him, sipping from his beer.

“Speaking of, thanks to Maddie I now know my official name,” Buck continues, doing his best to sound jovial. “Evan Buckley.”

“Buck-ley. Well, that explains how you got the name,” Eddie ponders, before tilting his head to the side with a cocked eyebrow. “So do I call you Evan from now on?”

“If you want me to call you Edmundo?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Buck sniggers. “You should know better than to tempt me.”

“Evan.”

“Edmundo.”

“This sounds all kinds of wrong,” Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “For me, you can only ever be Buck.”

“Which is convenient, because I can only be Buck.”

There was a brief moment in time when Buck considered changing his name, taking on that identity, the one intended. In the end, he dropped the idea for what he hopes to be for good. He doesn’t know who this Evan Buckley was or what he’d be now. He knows what Buck was like growing up. He knows what the guy is up to these days. And while they have their qualms, he’s mostly at peace with Buck.

Even a name tag doesn't change a thing about it.

Because he’s Buck. And thankfully, Eddie sees it the same way. So maybe he’s not entirely crazy for holding on to that, however schizophrenic it may be in the end.

“Anyway, part of the reason why I managed not to let anyone in on this is that Maddie agreed to run with not mentioning it. We just stuck to the part where we lost sight of each other and found one another again when anyone asked. And until now, no one really questioned the timeline.”

“And no one ever made the connection between Buckley and Buck?” Eddie asks.

Buck shakes his head. “Maddie’s married name is Kendall. She considered changing it back to Buckley after she broke up with her scumbag husband. But when she found out what kind of scumbags our parents are, it was out the window. So no one had reason to question the difference in names and just assumed that Maddie’s birth name was Moore, too.”

“I take that there is no good explanation as to how you ended up in Texas, then,” Eddie sighs. Buck can tell that he’s trying to sound casual, soft, but the white-knuckled grip on the beer bottle is an entirely different story.

“No, not really. As far as we understand it, our parents moved across state borders under the pretense to get treatment for me. Then they just dropped me at a fire station and drove back. They told Maddie I died.”

“Why would they do that? Why would anyone’s parents…?” Eddie shakes his head, disbelief settling in. Buck knows the feeling oh too well. When he found out, it didn’t make sense to him at all. But as more details were added, the clearer the bigger picture became, though it turned none the brighter.

Buck looks around, just to be sure none of the 118 was sent here to spy on them. Once he is sure there is really just them, Buck hunches forward in his seat.

“Well, I was a big, fat disappointment, I guess. They had me to save their oldest son, Daniel. He had juvenile leukemia. I was… I was a savior baby. Just that… ugh, I didn’t save him. My guessing is that they never wanted me, so they gave me away after Daniel died. I was just there for spare parts anyway.”

Buck suddenly feels something cold in his neck, only to realize it’s Eddie’s hand gently squeezing it. Buck tenses for a moment, then eases to the familiarity of the touch, suppressing the urge to lean into it like he used to.

“I’m so sorry. I would’ve hoped for something else to come out of this.”

Buck manages a feeble smile. “It’s fine. I got a sister now I never expected to find. That’s great. Over the moon kinda great. And now I also ran back into you, too. So I’m one lucky bastard after all.”

Eddie’s hand lingers for a while, no words spoken and yet all is said between them. And how much Buck missed that. Not having to say things for them to be understood.

Eventually, Eddie’s hand falls on his shoulder, giving it a light pat before returning to his beer. “So we’re still friends after I spilled to your colleagues?”

“I didn’t stop being your friend after you got so mad for me saying that you couldn’t bake for shit, so you covered a balloon stuck to a cardboard box in frosting and told me you’d baked a cake and I cut the thing only for it to explode in my face.”

“To this day one of my proudest achievements when it comes to pranks,” Eddie snorts, breaking out laughing at the memory.

Buck can’t help but laugh along. Many of those memories got stuffed away alongside the ones he’d buried in the ground. He had no reason to unearth them because he chose not to tell anyone. But with Eddie, those things come back to light and they shimmer like gold, even after all those years of packing on dust.

“Laugh it up all you want, I got back at you eventually.”

“Don’t remind me,” Eddie groans. “I got grounded for a month because you led my parents to believe I’d be stupid enough to have a folder for porn on the family’s computer and made a message pop up every time that the folder was overloaded and created a system error.”

“Yeah. That was a masterpiece,” Buck sniggers. “But anyway. If that didn’t cancel our friendship, I think we’re fairly good with all this here.”

“Then I’m glad. When you fled the scene, I got kind of worried.”

Buck shrugs. “You know me. I’m a whirlwind of emotions, so I thought it’d be best if I took the time to cool down.”

“That was definitely not how you went about it before,” Eddie argues.

And Buck can’t argue with that. Back in the day, Buck just let the storms rage, never minding the consequences. On the job, that’s still how he rolls, but it was also how he talked, how he presented himself. After he got to meet the Diaz family, he stopped hiding a lot of things. He screamed when he felt like screaming and he cried when he was sad. He laughed when he was happy. And sometimes he even cried because he was that happy, but he learned that this was okay. Abuela always told him this and he took it to heart.

At least for as long as I could.

“Which is why I’m working on it. But anyway! Enough of me. Tell me about you. How long have you been in L.A.? What got you here?” Buck asks. Judging by the look on Eddie’s face, his transition of topics is not nearly as smooth as he’d want it to be, but Eddie rolls with it anyway.

“I moved here only shortly, for the job,” he says. “Before that, I was working some odd jobs. Before that, Afghanistan.”

Buck winces. “Shit.”

“Yeah, that’s one way of describing it. After I came back home injured, I couldn’t do this anymore. I had to set priorities differently, and somehow… I ended up in L.A.”

“Fresh start.” Buck nods his head. There is still so much to unravel in just those few sentences. Afghanistan. Injury. Priorities. Eddie tends to hide a lot more in his words, even more so when they are scarce. But for what it seems, he will now get the time to dig deeper. Because that is what Buck knows someone has to do in order to understand someone like Eddie Diaz.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I get that feeling,” Buck says. “Los Angeles is great for that, worked out for Maddie and me, too.”

“We’ll have to drink a lot of beers to catch up on all those years we didn’t hear from each other to wind up having a fresh start in the same city.”

“Then it’s a date.”

Eddie wants to say something, but then his phone vibrates. “Sorry about that.”

Buck holds up his hands. “It’s fine.”

Eddie takes out his phone and checks his messages. Buck can see the instant shift in the other man’s demeanor. He knows that change like the back of his hand, even with years between where they parted ways and now crossed them again. Eddie’s shutting down.

“Hey, uhm, sorry, I gotta head out. It’s urgent,” he says, grabbing his wallet, clearly embarrassed and beat-up for having to leave so suddenly.

Some things don’t change, do they?

“Hey, it’s fine, man. We, ugh, we are stuck together now anyway, right? We’ll find enough time to catch up. It’s a date, after all,” Buck assures him. “Also, you’re not paying for the beer, unless you wanna pick a fight with me. Just go.”

Eddie smiles at him wryly. “Thanks. I’ll pay next round?”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Now off you go.”

“Sorry another time. I really gotta…”

“See you at work!”

“See ya!”

Buck manages to keep up the smile until the door shuts behind Eddie. His shoulders drop and he sucks in a deep breath. He pays for the beers and nearly flies out the door.

He makes for his car and climbs in. Buck realizes only now how badly his hands are shaking. Struggling for breath, he takes out his wallet again and fishes out that one crumpled piece of the past he carries with him whenever he’s not on the job, so to be sure it doesn’t get further damage.

Buck unfolds the faded photograph with shaky hands and presses it against his mouth, breathing hard against it. The tears keep coming, no matter how hard he tries to stop them. They are happy and sad. Desperate and relieved. Everything and nothing. And all that at the same time.

Eddie is back.

Eddie is back in his life, just like that, after the years it took him to accept he’d never see him again. That he’d moved on as he should have.

How do you rip off the band-aid or duct tape for that?

Or maybe that’s just the universe telling him that some things really can’t be fixed.

Because apparently, the universe is still mocking him.

#buddie #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #buddie fanfic #fanfic #snippet #y'all let me in and now I'm making y'all miserable #:)#long ass snippets that pester me and now you too #by a non-native no less #bon appétit

23 notes · View notes

sparetimeimagines · 4 years ago

Text

You’re Secretly a Villain and You Betray Him | Midoriya Izuku

Tags; Angst, Betrayal, Mild Language, Sad Deku, Aged Up Pro-Hero

Masterlist

“It’s getting really dangerous out there.” He says setting the remote control on the coffee table turning to you. “Promise me you won’t fight this one. Please, Y/n.”

The look in his eyes is serious, pleading for the first time in a long time.

“Izuku. I can’t just sit here. You know I can’t. It’s a hero’s job to serve and protect.”

Your lips fold into a fine line as he rubs his temples.

Izuku had a hard time telling you no. To him, you were perfect. You were made for him and he couldn’t dare glance at another soul in the same way.

“I know, Y/n.” His voice softens when he takes your hand. “Please. Just this one. Please don’t go after them. I can’t-“

“You can’t what, Izuku? Can’t see me taking your spotlight? Can’t see me fighting a ‘dangerous’ villain? Do you think I’m only here for petty crime?”

“No. That’s not what I meant, Y/n and you know that.”

He always hate it though; when you challenged him. He just wanted what was right. He only wanted to protect you and keep you safe.

“Then what is it? You can’t see me win this one? What is it, Midoriya?”

“I can’t lose you.” He cuts you off running his thumb along your knuckle. “Just this one. Promise me I won’t catch you fighting this villain.” He pleads hiding his face with budding tears.

You sign and hang your head.

That was your weakness. You adored his sensitive side, how he cared so much about the people in his life... the passion he had escaping through his pores.

There’s a brief moment of silence, the guilt eating at you with shame.

“Fine.” You give in and he eyes you. “I won’t go after them.”

He jumps to his feet and embraces you with the tightest of hugs, pressing his lips against your temple.

“Thank you, Y/n. This is all I ask of you.” He mumbles into your hair, feathering sweet kisses along your luscious locks. Those same locks he would carve his fingers through every night before you fell asleep.

“But don’t you die out there.” Your tone was sickening slick, the venom hardly withholding itself.

“I’m always coming home to you. You know that, Angel.” He releases you with a humbling smile. “There’s no one else I’d rather see than you.”

You swallow hard and nod.

“Besides, once this villain is taken care of, I’m taking you away. We’re going on vacation. Away from Japan to some tropical island with coconuts and sandy shores.” He laces his fingers with yours. “Can you imagine it? Just some time away with you and me. We can relax and I can see your banging body in that two piece you bought a while ago.” He paints his dream in the air between you with a flick of his wrist.

That was his signature gesture; to always be touching you. You were his security blanket. As long as you were by his side, nothing could go wrong.

With you, everything made sense. The sky was blue and flowers were his favorite fragrance; you know, because your perfume was the most floral of scents.

There was no way to deny he was smitten by you since the first time he laid eyes on you.

However, you had a secret. A dark one at it. His natural good made it harder for you to not feel shameful around him. Izuku is the golden boy. He’s the golden retriever of super heroes. Always there to make sure good won and evil was subsided.

But how were you going to tell him that the masked villain who has destroyed civilians lives was actually his bride to be?

That would shatter him.

You weren’t going to let him know the quirk he sees, illusionist, isn’t your only quirk. Your marionettist quirk, the ability to control another person with a strand of their hair like a puppet, was the quirk you obtained from your mother.

You stare at him projecting the vacation of his dreams into his mind.

“Just like that. You always know what I’m thinking.“ The grasp on his fingers tug a little tighter, like his his heart strings giving an extra tug. “You’re the best.” He brings your hand to his chest so you can feel his beating heart. “I love your quirk. I love everything about you.”

He brings his hand holding yours to his lips and kisses every knuckle you have.

Little does he know, at this very moment you had an explosion ready to go off. A time bomb that you set to not give away your alibi. He jumps to his feet ready for action.

“Leave it to them to ruin a good time.“ He groans and runs to the back room to find his suit. “Remember, you promised me you won’t go out there.“ He comes back out, one leg already in his suit. “I want you to stay here. I will see you when I get back.“

Both feet in, he secures the suit to his neck. “Stay away from the windows. Keep your phone on you at all time. If I call and tell you that you need to hide, you need to hide.”

He buckles the last of his suit and comes up to you one last time. With both his hands he grasps your face.

“I love you. You’re beautiful, stay safe.”

With that he runs out the door ready to save his city. You see the reminiscence of All Might in Deku’s facade. The way he admired him; with every ounce of his spirit engraved into Izuku’s soul.

In the back of your mind, it kills you to have to break his heart. Every time you leave the house; to embrace your side of the hero world -to crush every dream that he has- it hurts to deceive him just a little.

Only a little.

Then you leave yourself. You had to make sure Izuku was gone before you could spring into action.

Your suit was ready, the way you had your mask created to form a different shape and structure of your face was almost too clever.

You were known to be a silent villain. It was obvious you were female; the skin tight suit made it clear.

You liked it that way; the tighter the suit the better so it didn’t get in your way. You were inspired by Midnight and how her suit clung to her skin.

Another explosion was set to go off in the next ten minutes and you had to rush to the scene. This time, you needed a hostage, a victim. The building was set aflame and you made it in time to watch the pedestrians panic.

The chaos inspired the adrenaline in your blood to have you make rash decisions. Who can you have make a scene?

You watched over the crowd of people running for their lives when you feel a presence over your shoulder.

“Kurogiri, don’t do that.”

“What is that?”

“You. Just orbing in whenever you feel it.”

“Did you find the hero yet?”

The guilt stung in your gut; you knew what you were doing was wrong.

“He’s around here somewhere.”

“But are you sure? Have you seen him?”

“He is. Just trust me.” You groan watching the heroes begin to show up one by one.

You knew each and every one of them. Had they known you were a traitor... there would be no going back.

“Shoto...” You gasp, seeing the contradiction show up first. His red and white hair was glowing against the sunlight.

“Control him. Make him wish he were somewhere else.” Another voice, much more threatening appears behind you.

The guilt sets in. Shoto ate supper with you and Izuku last night. He helped you prepare the dishes. You can’t hurt him.

“Do it.” You feel four fingers begin to trace up your arm.

Checking out, your eyes focus on the heterochromatic man, checking into his thoughts. You project a picture, one of him suffering in his childhood. The sensation of his eye burning and his father treating him terribly is directed into his vision and his composure doubles over.

Cries of pain and surprise escape from his mouth when he drops. He covers his eye and then he shows to his aid.

Green hair, red cuffs around his ankles, freckles on his cheeks. The warmest hugs and forgiving arms... will he forgive you?

He surprises you and instantly your quirk is thrown off.

Shoto stands and catches his breath and you can see Deku looking around.

He knows you. He studied you.

Where are you?

He scans the high grounds, on top of the buildings and you want to believe he’ll look over you.

You cast your quirk into his vision in hopes of avoiding him. He looks confused, where you casted the illusion of no one being here, and yet he fights it off. He knows that feeling.

Shoto looks around and nudges his arm, pointing in your direction.

“Oh shit.” You panic while Kurigiri leaves “Shit.” Deku uses his quirk and begins to blast himself on your level.

You play with his vision again, attempting to make him miss his landing. But you can’t, you can’t hurt him. Your quirk is broken by your thoughts and you stumble backwards.

Izuku lands in front of you and immediately makes his way to you.

“Don’t you move.” He warns and you step backwards ready to leave.

You can’t break contact with him. You need his attention. However you must remain silent.

“Who are you? What’s your name? What do you want?” He begins to follow you. Speed was not your strength. You weren’t very tall and focused more on your mental abilities over physical.

He tackles you to the ground and has you binded under his grasp.

You try your quirk one more time. But having to use it so much over the last few minutes has worn you down. You catch his glance for two maybe three seconds just enough to shift him off guard when he notices something.

The image you casted, it was only something you would know. You shoot him a glance of where he would go when things got bad. It’s a spot in his head where he would mumble and think about things that no one else would even know to think of.

It brought him to a safe spot. Because at that very moment, he’s going to feel destroyed if he takes off your mask. And that’s the last thing you want him to do.

That feeling of confusion, the déjà vu takes over his body. He sits up, lets go of your arm and brings his fingers to your mask.

You hold your breath and watch him unveil your secret.

“Y/n...” he stutters in disbelief, dropping your mask to the side. He looks down at your body then back to your face. The look a betrayal is all you see in those dark green eyes.

“How could you do this to me?”

His hand slides slowly to your neck. His jaw drops speechless as he tries to think of a way to talk to you. His eyes shift from one of yours to the other. He’s in shock.

“You are my world, Angel. How can you hurt me like this?“ The grip on your neck tightens slightly then he releases you. “I want to hurt you so bad right now.“

His eyes begin to water as you stare cold at him.

“You can’t give me an explanation.” He shakes his head in disbelieve. “I trusted you. I trusted you with my life, Y/n.”

He sits on his heels, still holding you down. His eyes glance at the engagement ring he bought you four months ago.

“We’re supposed to start a family together. We’re supposed to…“ He starts but his voice gets stuck in his throat. “You’re supposed to be mine forever.“

The look in front of you breaks your heart. You didn’t want this to happen but you knew it was going to, it was just a matter of time.

His cheeks begin to redden, with his cute freckles that decorate them delicately.

“Izuku…“ You start with your hand grazing to his hair. You can choose between your fingers, when he smacks your hand away.

“No! Don’t touch me. You don’t deserve to touch me. How can you do this to me?”

He continues to ask you over and over again. “I trusted you. I freaking trusted you. How can you do this to me?“ Tears stream down his face now, then you realize you still have a job to do. You stare at him, absorbing the hair into your palm. As you watch him stand up he looks at you in disbelief. “What are you doing to me? Stop it.” He stands, stiff as a board where he can’t move his face at all. You watch him with your saddest eyes, leaving a kiss on his lips.

“Izuku. It wasn’t my choice.”

A purple orb is created behind you, Kurigiri opening the portal and you can almost hear Deku’s heart breaking.

“Angel...” He says one last time before you enter the portal.

His broken face watches as you enter the portal, matching yours completely.

The only thing that was in your control, was they wanted you to kill him, and you said no. But right now, seeing the broken look on his face, you think that may have been easier.

#my hero academia #midoriya izuku #midoriya x you #midoriya imagine #midoriya x y/n #izuku x you #bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #bnha midoriya #mha #my hero academia imagines #izuku midoria x reader #angst #deku midoriya #deku x y/n #bakugo angst #bakugou x you #my hero academia headcanon #my hero x reader

64 notes · View notes

senorarelojes · 4 years ago

Text

Ficlet: The One Where Fletch Has Sex Powers

A crackfic based on @pinksyndication's running joke about how Fletch always teleports to wherever Dave and Alan are having sex.

Tags: Crackfic, Nonsense, Getting Caught, OOC-ness Rating: Mature

All in all, Andy Fletcher was a Very Good Boy. He didn't take drugs (he didn't care what anyone said, pot wasn't a drug) and he liked drinking, but he treated the fans well and he never slept with any groupies. And it appeared that the other guys were starting to be swayed by his good example; all right, Martin was Martin, but Dave and Alan seemed to have stopped bringing girls back to their rooms. In fact, now the two of them would often head back to the hotel together after their gigs and afterparties, grinning and whispering about something or other.

“What do you think those two are up to?” Martin said, when he and Fletch were waiting for their drinks at the bar one night in New Orleans. They were watching Dave and Alan leave the club together, and Dave must have been drunk because he was holding onto Alan’s hips for balance. He did that a lot these days. Fletch thought Alan was a very good friend for tolerating that much touching.

“Dunno,” Fletch said, knocking back the whiskey a grateful fan had bought him. It burned all the way down, warm but funny in his stomach. “Dave said sometimes they read the Bible together.”

Martin laughed until he almost choked on his drink, Fletch patting him on the back until his airways were clear again. “He really said that?” Martin gasped.

“Yeah, must’ve heard him wrong,” Fletch said with a grin. “He said something about getting to know Alan biblically? Must have been stoned out of his mind.”

Martin’s brow was now wrinkled in confusion, his mouth open to ask something before they were waylaid by a group of very excited fans in very little clothing, and Fletch got distracted (okay he was faithful to Grainne, but he wasn’t a priest) and he forgot all about their topic of discussion.

Besides, the whiskey earlier was making him feel a bit odd.

***

A few days later, Fletch was still feeling the effects of the whiskey that fan had given him in New Orleans. He wasn’t sick or anything like that; he just felt like a toy soldier whose key had been wound too tightly, like all his senses had been heightened. If Martin was flirting with someone, Fletch could almost hear Martin’s heartbeat racing as though it were his very own. When one of their female roadies bent over their synths and treated Daryl to a view of her cleavage, Fletch could smell something warm and vanilla-ish, like the spiced fruit cake his mother used to bake.

The worst one was that he also seemed to have gained the knack of accidentally walking in on people making out or about to have sex. On tour, this was a most awkward scenario as Fletch had to work with these people day in and day out for months, so he most definitely did not want to get a glimpse of anyone’s arse or naughty bits. He got into the habit of knocking on any doors to announce his presence beforehand, which was most annoying as Fletch liked the freedom of going where he pleased on tour.

He almost wanted to tell Martin about the very odd things happening to him recently, but he knew Martin would just laugh it off so he decided not to. Strange things happened on tour all the time, and Martin would just tell him to be careful and watch where he was going. Besides, Fletch felt fine beyond the odd thing about his senses being magnified.

Then it all came to a head one night.

After their gig in Los Angeles, Fletch had decided to skip the afterparty because he was a bit too flushed and sweaty. Afraid that he might be coming down with the flu, Fletch went back to the hotel shortly after Dave and Alan themselves did. Ringing room service and ordering himself a nice hot tea and a bacon sandwich, Fletch decided a bath might be the best thing after a long gig; he didn’t care what Alan had to say, all that clapping would tire anyone out.

Fletch had his late dinner, then drew his bath and sat in the steaming hot water for a good thirty minutes, ignoring the moans he was hearing next door. (This was now a nightly occurrence that he attributed to the hotel’s thin walls, trying not to think about how that had never been a problem before). But after it got a bit too obscene for him to ignore, he got up and reached for his towel, drying himself and draining the water.

Fletch was almost done when his eye fell on the bathroom counter, then he frowned down at the items scattered around the bathroom sink. Those were not his toiletries. For one thing, there were too many bottles of cologne and aftershave, and there was also make up - make up! - on the counter. Where the fuck had they come from? Fletch’s heart was starting to thump loudly in his chest in panic. This didn’t look like his bathroom.

Then he heard voices from outside.

Now his heart jumped up into his throat, leaving him stricken in fear. Had robbers come in during his bath, or did fans manage to track him down? He pressed his ear against the door, startled when he heard Alan’s voice. It was both disconcerting and soothing to hear him talking, because at least it was someone he knew and trusted. Then again, what the fuck was Alan doing in his room? Maybe he’d broken in to play a prank on Fletch.

Fletch found himself grinning. Well, two could play at that game.

Flinging open the door, Fletch shouted, “Surprise, Wilder--” but his voice died because a sweaty Alan was naked on his bed, balls deep in someone who was face down in the pillows.

For a long moment, it was hard to tell who was more horrified: Fletch, or Alan, who was staring back at him in shock.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” they both asked at the same time, before the person Alan was fucking raised their head.

“Charlie, what--” A red-faced Dave was blinking at Fletch, who just stared at him, then Alan, then him again.

That was the point where Fletch passed out.

***

When he came to, he was resting on the two-seater sofa near the window. Dave and Alan, who were both wearing the hotel’s fluffy bathrobes, were peering down at him anxiously. “Is he alive?” Dave asked, palming Fletch’s forehead.

Fletch batted his hand away with a squawk. “Don’t touch me with-- that! Who knows where it’s been!” he shouted, scrambling away from the two of them.

Dave actually had the good graces to look hurt. Hurt! As though he was the one who had walked in on his two bandmates plowing each other like a cornfield. “My hand’s clean, it’s not like I had my fingers up Alan’s arse or something,” he said huffily. “We did that yesterday.”

“Dave,” Alan said in warning. “Not the time, mate.”

“He insinuated I was dirty,” Dave protested at the same time as Fletch yelled, “Stop telling me things!”

Alan held out his hands for calm. “Okay, look. Andy, why were you in my bathroom?”

Fletch rolled his eyes. “Excuse me, this is my room.”

Shaking his head, Alan looked even more confused. “No, it’s not. It’s mine.” And sure enough, it was only now that Fletch had a good look around. He could see Alan’s various leather jackets hanging in the wardrobe, his suitcases and boots lined up against the wall.

Now Fletch really, really felt ill. “I need to lie down.”

“You are lying down,” Dave said. When Alan shot him another glare, Dave got all huffy. “What? I can’t point out facts now?”

“This still doesn’t explain how Andy ended up in the bathroom,” Alan said, running his hands through his hair. Then Dave flattened down a cowlick that was sticking up at the back, and Alan shot him a very fond smile. Fletch could hear his heartbeat kicking up too, just like Martin’s had when he’d been flirting with that cute girl.

Oh. Oh no.

“I think I have sex powers,” Fletch said faintly.

Dave and Alan just stared at him. “How hard did he hit his head when he fell down?” Dave whispered to Alan.

“No, you don’t understand.” Fletch told them about the whiskey from that fan, then about his tendency to sense people’s heightened lust, as well as the odd thing about walking in on people in various states of intimacy. Dave just looked confused, while Alan seemed thoughtful.

“I think I’ve heard of this before,” Alan said, pacing about his room while Dave not-so-subtly tried to look up his robe. “It must have been a charm a fan had given to you.”

“But why?” For the life of him, Fletch couldn’t figure out why anyone would do this to him.

Alan shrugged. “Happened to a mate of mine. It usually wears off after a week or so.”

“A week’s a very long time to stop teleporting to where people are having sex,” Fletch said in a huff, before he gestured between the two of them. “Also, when did this bloody happen?”

Dave blushed a deep beetroot red, while Alan cocked an eyebrow at Fletch. “Really? You just gained sex powers, but you’re more concerned about Dave and I making love?”

Fletch had to hold his breath before he gagged, while Dave’s blush deepened, hearts practically glowing in his eyes. “Oh, Al--”

“Okay, I’m going to use my sex powers and, um, teleport out of here,” Fletch muttered, but Alan and Dave were starting to get all handsy again so Fletch didn’t wait and bolted out of the room, running straight to Mart’s.

***

As Alan predicted, Fletch’s sex powers went away a few days after the incident with the two of them. But although he didn’t have those powers anymore, it was hard not to notice whenever Alan and Dave snuck off together. So when Martin commented on it, Fletch told him.

“How did you find out?” Martin was half-sober, so Fletch was counting on him to remember this conversation in the morning.

“My sex powers,” Fletch said.

“Your sex what?” Martin goggled at him, so Fletch told him everything that had happened. At the end of it, Martin didn’t quite look like he believed Fletch, but he wasn’t quite laughing him off either.

“So do you still have them?” Martin asked after a long silence, staring down at his own tumbler of whiskey with suspicion now.

“I hope not,” Fletch said miserably. “I probably already need years of therapy after catching Alan and Dave like that together.”

Martin was starting to smile again. “At least Dave wasn’t lying when he said he was getting to know Alan biblically.”

“You’re a silver lining kind of bloke, aren’t you?” Fletch rolled his eyes at him, because he really wasn’t kidding about the therapy.

Martin patted him on the back sympathetically. “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink then. What do you want?”

“Anything but whiskey,” Fletch said, because really, he never wanted to get sex powers again.

#dalan #fanfic #crack #pinksyndication #I had the worst writing block #so I wrote this to try and get over it #clockies' crap

30 notes · View notes

mountainsluna · 4 years ago

Text

good intentions

request: Seonghwa scenario in which the reader falls into bad habits after breaking up, if u want to you can make it fluff at the end

pairing: seonghwa x reader

genre: angst + fluff ending

word count: 1.9k

✩ [author’s note] this...this hurt :’( i love seonghwa so much my soft hearted baby :’(

✩ masterlist

✩ requests : check bio or masterlist ♡

Seonghwa always had the best intentions when it came to you. He wanted you happy whether that was with or without him. When you came into his life, he knew you were absolutely everything he had ever wanted. But good things could only last so long.

After he started his new job he ended up being a lot busier than he thought he’d be, traveling to different cities and countries nearly every week. It led to him only ever seeing you once a month or so. He couldn’t stand it, he hated feeling like he was neglecting you, no matter how much you reassured him that things would be okay he didn’t listen.

“Y/n I’m sorry, I just can’t put you through this anymore...You don’t deserve it. You deserve someone who can be there for you whenever you need them and I can’t be that.” His eyes were already glossing over as he spoke to you.

“Hwa, I’ve been okay these past nine months... No it’s not ideal but it’s worth it to be with you. I love you so much and I know you love me too, it doesn’t make sense for us to break up like this.” You pleaded to him at your apartment door. He hadn’t even wanted to come inside, worried he’d cave and not say what he went there to say.

“I do love you, so much. That’s why I have to do this. It’d be selfish of me to keep you... I’m so sorry.” His hands that were wrapped around yours, now letting them down slowly.

“Seonghwa...please...” You breathed shakily, tears already streaming down your face. Seonghwa couldn’t bare to look at you as he turned away. Leaving you a sobbing, heartbroken mess at your own doorstep.

You hated to admit you cried for nearly two days straight after your breakup. The shock and denial of it all was taking a toll on you in the worst ways. As the weekend approached your friends decided you needed to get out, dragging you to a local club to loosen you up a bit. You hadn’t been much of drinker, letting yourself get tipsy only on occasion but maybe this was what you needed.

The first sip of alcohol had your body warming up nicely, filling you with the relief you had been dying for as it coursed through your veins. After about three more drinks, the memory of your ex boyfriend was nearly forgotten.

The next morning you were definitely regretting your drink choices from the night before. But by that evening you were ready to go again, craving the break the alcohol brought from your thoughts.

When Monday arrived, your classes had been extra rough on you. On your walk home you decided to stop at the convenient store for food. Your eyes skimming over the wine section. You grabbed a couple of bottles, thinking they’d hold you for the next month or so.

But the bottles only lasted about four days. Not including Wednesday because Yeosang and Wooyoung had invited you to happy hour at their favorite bar and you had agreed a bit too eagerly.

Now it was the weekend and you were ready to go out again.

Seonghwa noticed your frequent outings that first weekend. He was friends with your friends on social media and although you had blocked him, he saw everything through Wooyoung and Yeosang’s profiles.

He hated to admit that after the second night of seeing videos of you downing several hard liquors and shots he was worried. But he knew he was in no position to scold you. He had left you, but he honestly hadn’t expected it to be this hard on you.

That Tuesday he saw Wooyoung’s story, a picture of two wine glasses with you tagged in the second one, letting him know you were drinking again. Then Wednesday when he saw you taking shots of whiskey with the two boys at a local bar. He decided he needed to call you. Whether you listened to him or not, it was getting out of hand. But you didn’t answer.

He even attempted to reach out to your friends but Wooyoung ignored him as well. All he got from Yeosang was a ‘you’re talking to the wrong person. text her, not me.’ When he informed the blonde haired boy that you weren’t responding, Yeosang told him he should ‘take the hint then’ and left it at that.

He was out of town all that week but he wanted so bad to go to your house and beg you to stop, to just stop, He wanted to hold you in his arms again and tell you that you were too precious and important to be doing the things you were doing to yourself but he couldn’t.

Seonghwa was on edge during all of his meetings that Friday, fully expecting to see you getting drunk with your friends again and sure enough, by 10pm on Wooyoung’s story. There you were, dressed in the tightest gray dress he had ever seen you in, downing drinks like a pro as the boys hyped you up. He threw his phone to the other side of the hotel bed. His head falling into his palms as he sighed in frustration.

This whole time he thought he had chosen what was best for you both but maybe he hadn’t. It’s not like had ever stopped loving you. He loved you to death and he missed you more than he could bear. Part of him only watched your friend’s stories so he could catch glimpses of your face. Missing the way you’d smile up at him and how he would pull you into a kiss, loving the way you'd giggle against his lips the longer he’d kiss you.

It wasn’t until Sunday night that he decided enough was enough. He saw a story pop up from a mutual friend of yours, Mingi, who hadn’t come around in awhile. It was a video of a blunt being passed around. The video didn’t show your faces but he recognized your body instantly as you were sitting between Yeosang and Wooyoung in a circle. A shot glass in one hand, as Yeosang handed you the blunt that you took with the other.

He was riding back to his apartment from the airport when he saw it and he knew he had to see you. As soon as he set his bags down, he called another cab to take him straight to your apartment.

It was nearly 1am but he was more determined than he had ever been to be with you. When he knocked on the door there was no answer. He sat on the ground, leaning back against your door as he recalled the events that occurred the last time he was here. He wanted to kick himself for being so stupid. He thought keeping you was selfish but now he knew trying to push you away was only hurting you both.

He constantly refreshed his feed, until a new story popped up, and he could see you in the backseat of Yeosang’s car, high and drunk off your ass and he nearly started sobbing. He could only pray that Yeosang was bringing you here and not to his or Wooyoung’s apartment.

About twenty minutes had passed when he heard voices coming up the stairs to your floor. He stood up quickly already recognizing Wooyoung’s loud voice. A few seconds later he saw you. Your arms slung over the two boy’s shoulders as they helped you stumble to your apartment.

Yeosang scoffed as he made eye contact with Seonghwa, not paying him any more attention than that. He left you to dangle from Wooyoung’s shoulder as he took your key from your purse to unlock your door.

Wooyoung was the only one to acknowledge Seonghwa. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Seonghwa didn’t really know how to answer the boy. “I-I came to make sure she was okay.”

“What you’re finally feeling guilty or what?” He slurred back at the taller boy. Yeosang told Wooyoung he’d wait for him in the car, not wanting to be in Seonghwa’s presence any longer. He helped you onto your couch, your head hanging low not even realizing Seonghwa was even there.

“Wooyoung...I can take care of her for the night...If you don’t mind..”

The smaller boy looked at him hesitantly not wanting to leave you alone with him at all.

“I...really want to be with her...I miss her so much... I can’t believe I let this happen.”

Wooyoung watched as he caressed your drunken face. Your eyes closed, indefinitely passed out. Even in his own drunken state, he could see the regret Seonghwa had in his eyes, silently pleading to him as they made eye contact.

After a few moments of silence while Wooyoung mulled it over in his head, he agreed. But not after a few select threats from him as he made his way out of the door.

Seonghwa helped you out of your heels and into your bedroom, talking to you in the softest voice. Wanting to make up for all the bad feelings he had caused you. While he was helping you into your sleeping clothes he heard you mumble softly.

“S...Seonghwa?” Your head lulling back as the room began to spin whenever you opened your eyes.

“Shhh, yes my love it’s me. I’m here. Let me lay you down, angel.” You grumbled in response but let him guide you to your pillows, he himself making his way beside you under the covers. Resting your head against him as he stroked your hair, leaving soft kisses on your head, mumbling apologies into your hair.

You woke up the next morning in Seonghwa’s embrace, the feeling of his arms around you startling you as you sat up quickly. Your movements waking Seonghwa as well. “Baby what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Y..you...you’re here?” You stuttered out softly. Wondering if you were still dreaming, you reached up to hold his face. His hand coming up to wrap around your arm.

“Yes my love... I’m here.” He pulled you into his chest, and you accepted, your arm coming to wrap around his abdomen. “I’m here now baby everything’s gonna be okay I promise.” He kissed your head and you nearly teared up at his words, hugging him even tighter. “But...how are you feeling?”

The shock of his presence subsiding as you felt the pang of a hangover in your skull. “I...I have a slight headache but I’ll be okay.”

“My love....I’ll get you some medicine and some water, okay?” He moved to get up but you pulled him against you, not wanting him to leave your side just yet.

“Please...please don’t ever leave me again.” You said against his chest, your eyes closed tightly. You wanted to stay in his arms forever.

He hugged you back with all the strength he could muster without hurting you. “I won’t, angel, I promise. You’re the love of my life, I’m sorry I was so stupid.” He held your head to his chest, breathing out a small sigh of relief knowing you wanted him to stay as much as he wanted to. “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Hwa.” You picked up your head, kissing him with all the energy you had, making up for every day you two had missed together.

#request #ateez #seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa angst #ateez angst #ateez fluff #seonghwa fluff #wooyoung #yeosang #san #mingi #yunho #jongho #hongjoong

100 notes · View notes

schnitzelbutterfingers · 4 years ago

Text

the forgotten one- chapter 2

A/N: hiya there! here is the second chapter of ‘the forgotten one’! this is also emotional, and angsty, but don’t worry. there will be some fluff in the next chapter. seb and jazmin the mother will arrive at boston. ethan’s still processing the news and he’s afraid. SO afraid. and abby... well you’ll find out!! sorry this took almost two weeks. sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? but i finally completed it!! as always, forgive me if there are any spelling mistakes or grammar errors. lmk if you want to be added or removed from the tags. enjoy!!

summary: Louise Ramsey, the mother of the famous, brilliant diagnostician Ethan Ramsey, is back into his life. However, Louise holds many secrets, dangerous secrets, that could harm him, Dr. Abigail ‘Abby’ Chacko (my MC), and the very few lives he actually cares about. It is up to Ethan, Abby, and their friends to save each other from what is about to come.

pairing(s): dr. ethan ramsey x mc (dr. abigail “abby” chacko)

warning(s): violence and blood. there might be some fluff along the way, but you get the gist. DON’T READ IF YOU”RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH DEATH, VIOLENCE, and BLOOD.

word count: 3042

masterlist

Seb’s POV

When he saw Amma standing still, a tear tracing her cheek, it practically grieved his heart. He looked elsewhere, when his eyes landed on a picture of him and his baby sister. It was when Seb graduated from John Hopkins University at the age of 24, getting accepted to a residency program in Northwestern Memorial Hospital, where he was working presently. He had a bouquet in his hand, made by his sister. It was swelled with red roses, white calla lilies, and orchids. They were smiling, and Abby was lowering her lips to his cheeks, a gesture in which he adored. Merely looking at it made the running pains flow through his blood, banging at his heart.

Instantaneously, he heard a small thud. He turned around and directly perceived that it was the sound of knees, because he regarded his mother on the ground, sobbing and screaming. Amma suffered from anxiety and depression, something is being treated by Dr. Joah Jehovah, a psychologist. And it took all of his willpower to not imitate her actions.

Her sister. Stabbed. By some freak. After barely surviving the assassination attempt. He questioned God again and again as to why his baby sister should be punished like that. What did she ever do? She suffered frequently through her childhood, and she suffered just two weeks before, and now... she’s suffering again. Will she be able to endure this?

No, Seb chastises himself. Don’t think like that. She has survived worse, she’ll survive again.

After comforting Jazmin and blinking back some tears of his own, he forcibly opened his MacBook Pro and breezed through American Airlines, trying to buy the first two tickets to Boston, Massachusetts. This had been their second time flying to Boston this odd year, the first time when Abby was stuck in the contamination room.

First class seats. Like I would care at this point. They purchased economy seats out of hurry and rushed to the airport. The whole flight, Jazmin was trying to conceal her face with a crimson scarf, not presenting anyone her tears. There were two oblivious people in the front seats, laughing and smiling uncontrollably, and he desperately wanted to yell furiously at them, tell them to stop before he loses his unconscious mind. If it was possible, he would want to shout from the top of his lungs on the airplane. But that’s not fair, even to the two passengers. Because they’re really excited to see Hamilton. How did he know? They’re holding two tickets out in the open, and it wasn’t difficult for Seb to read them. Ah, the benefits of observation.

He was trying to stay strong for his mother, but a few times, he excused himself to the bathroom, where he would shed some tears, hoping, praying, for her angel sister to survive.

They landed in Boston, and when they were getting their luggage from the rack, he only saw her. And Ethan. He had no idea what Ethan was going through.

Seb and his depressed mother are now in a taxi, going to Edenbrook Hospital. The sun’s shining goldenly, a few clouds in the sky, perfect for a picnic date. Ragged tears of nervous sweat are prickling on his head even though the weather is chilly. There is snow, kids making snowmen, snow angels, snow ball fights. It reminded him of Seb’s and Abby’s childhood.

The siblings almost never had the chance to play out in the snow because Abraham and his people would whip them with a belt. Whenever their father is not there though, Amma would sneak them out and they always made the most of their time playing out in the snow. He can still remember their grins and how Abby got her first frostbite for staying outside for five hours. Eventually, Jazmin had to drag their butts back into the houses, where they shared hot cocoa. When snow was falling in her first winter in Boston, she was so excited that she called Seb to let him know. He had a small smile on his face as Abby ranted to him about what she and her roommates will do.

He can note how Amma was trying to possess a determined face. The ominous silence sounds almost deafening, Seb takes out his phone and dials Ethan’s number. Someone picks up but that someone is not Ethan. It’s Naveen.

“Naveen?! How is Abby?” Seb places the phone on speaker phone, so his mother can hear what Naveen has to say.

“Abby’s surgery was successful. The stab wound affected her liver, but Dr. Tanaka and the surgeons managed to fix it. She is now sleeping in Room 24B.” He paused for a moment. “Are you and Jazmin in Boston?”

“Yes, Naveen. We’re on a taxi heading to the hospital.”

All the while he can hear himself thanking God, the angels in heaven and all the saints for taking care of his baby angel. Jazmin is spilling joyful tears and sobbing. However, he also wants to know where he is. Where his anxious friend is. He nervously takes a deep breath and questions the senior doctor.

“...Naveen? Where is Ethan? Harper was the one on the other end the first time. At that time, I knew it was because Ethan didn’t have the strength to talk to me. Abby is alright now. Why is he not talking to me?”

There is dead silence on the other end. The only sounds he can detect are the cars on the other lane and the taxi’s radio playing I Can’t Feel My Face by The Weeknd. Wow, what a great song accompanying my mood, he thinks sarcastically. Ultimately, he hears the chief gathering a deep breath.

“Come to the hospital immediately. I will tell you what happened.”

“Okay, Naveen. Thank you.” he says as he frantic cut the call.

Seb and Jazmin share a concerned look. As they drove through Edenbrook’s main entrance, he couldn’t help but think. Whatever is happening now, it’s not good.

________________________________________________________________Ethan’s POV

Relaxation. Ease. Relief. Relief.

Relief was the word he used when his longtime mentor Naveen survived. Relief was the word he used when Abby won her hearing, an obstacle that almost stopped her from saving more patients and sufficiently advancing her career. Relief was the word he used when he saw his Rookie again after two months in the Amazon, fighting off a virus with the W.H.O. Relief was the word he used when he felt her head on his shoulder while driving her back to her shared apartment from the dinner with the governor. Relief was the word he used when he had her on the luxury yacht, distracting him from the opulence and Leland Bloom. Relief was the word he used when he passionately kissed her outside of his apartment after the softball game, the first time in a long time. Relief was the word he used when he caressed her with his lips during the Mass Kenmore heist. Relief was the word he used when he announced on national television that he wasn’t single, which somehow, didn’t make him feel anxious. Relief was the word he used when Abby overcame the toxin, which threatened to take the lives of her and Rafael, already killing Danny Cardinal and Bobby Gunderson. Relief was the word he used when they cuddled and clung fondly to each other in the ski resort, blocking the sounds of the wind rattling against the windows, a huge blizzard taking place outside. And now...

Relief was, no, is the word he is using to accurately describe how Ethan feels after his Rookie’s surgery.

He does not want to undergo that. Ever. Again.

If he ever sees Louise Ramsey in his sight, he will lose it. He will lose it. He will lose. It.

He started believing in that woman again, only to be driven back to square one. She rubbed a huge pack of salt deep into the wound in his heart. In fact, it was Abby who recommended that she should hear Louise out.

*Flashback*

Ethan can’t sleep. He tries to close his eyes, hoping that the next time he unravels them, it will be five a.m. He reveals his eyes again and groans. His clock reads 1:12 a.m.

The radiant moonlight is shining through the windows and onto his satin sheets, the sole source of light in his room.

Ever since his mother came to the ER, admitted in there for an apparent overdose, that was all he could think about. And Abby..

He shut her out. Once again. Thinking about how he slammed the on-call room door in her face made him wince with guilt. He hadn’t sighted her after that. How were they supposed to be in a relationship (are they in one?) if he keeps shutting her out again? He can’t even open up his feelings to her, the one who shared her past, her present, her deepest, darkest secrets...

Ethan instantly decides to contact her.

The phone picks up on the second ring.

“Ethan? Is everything alright?” Abby sounds awake, not tired at all. He hears papers shuffling on the other side.

“No, Rookie. I wanted to apologize for the way I acted today.”

There is a long moment of silence. “What are you talking about? What are you apologizing for?”

She sounds genuinely curious and confused, he wants to scoff at her for neglecting what happened. For not being mad at him. For not shutting him out. Just like he did many times.

“I closed the door in your face after you had attempted to console me after Louise came in the ER. It was downright impolite of me, and I am sor-” he is interrupted.

“Ethan, don’t ever be sorry for that. I understood that you needed some space. And besides, I have to admit.. if I was in your shoes, I would have done the same thing.”

She pauses for a moment, and this time he almost hears the sound of her unique heartbeat. “I will never know the pain you suffered during your childhood after knowing that your mother left you. But I do know this. I will always be there for you, Ethan Ramsey. Whether you like it or not.”

His heart swells with genuine emotions and tears starts to burn through his eyes, but he forces to flutter them away, his throat tightening.

“Abby.. I... thank you. That means a lot to me. And, for the record, I’ll always be there for you, Abigail Chacko.”

Abby laughs wholeheartedly, hearing the words she used back to her, the first pleasant sound of his whole day that makes his stomach flip.

The laughter dies down, and there is silence stretching for a long time. At the last moment, Abby promptly breaks it, a sense of relief flooding through his cells.

“...How are you, really? With everything that’s been going on with your mom, I mean.” Then, there is a painful quietness that seemed acutely uncomfortable. She breaks it again, with a gentle voice. “I’m sorry. I know how painful this situation is, and just wanted to-”

He waves off her apology with one question, a question that had been racking him for a long time. “..What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

“...What do you mean?”

“If you had a similar circumstance where someone who hurt you came back again into your life, in a long time, what would you do?”

The once visible moon is now being hidden by a cloud, showing off a little bit of brightness, as if performing an act of humility as he waits for an answer. After an eternity in what was only a few minutes, she answers.

“I would forgive them.”

Ethan isn’t genuinely shocked to hear this, but it still makes his lips slightly part. He knew Abby’s and Seb’s childhood, which, from what he undoubtedly heard, could have been more painful and terrible than his own. They got beaten up and assaulted almost every day, Seb had told him days after they became friends. So, he decides to ask this one question.

“..Why?”

“..I didn’t say I was gonna forgive them quickly, did I? It takes time for a person to truly forgive someone, and to me.. that’s okay. If they haven’t changed, I will still forgive them, but not immediately, but if they did change and they want to be a different person, then I will forgive them, no matter what they did to me.”

Ethan lets out a sigh he has been containing for a while, instantly recognizing his need for oxygen. If her father came back, as a changed man, would she forgive him? How can she do that? No, the key question is, how will she do that? Before meditating deeper into his thoughts, she disrupts him.

“Is this about your mother, Ethan?”

“..I.. I’ll admit I have been thinking about that. I also have been wondering.. I’m like my mother aren’t I?”

Bewilderment substitutes her gentle voice. “What are you talking about? You’re not like your-”

‘I push everyone away, especially you. Every time when you try to get close to me. That’s exactly what my mom did to me and my dad. She left us without a note. I left you to the Amazon with no reason as to why I did it.”

“Ethan-”

“Tell me, Abby. Tell me that you weren’t hurt by my actions and I will let this topic go.”

Another impressive silence, until he hears some cars honking on the bustling streets of Boston. And he hears her familiar voice on the other side, bringing remorse but an equivalent amount of considerable comfort in him. “..Ethan.. you may have hurt me. A lot. I’ll admit that. But you are not your mother, do you understand that?

Ethan tries to swallow a small lump in his throat. “You’ve changed. From pushing me away to letting me in. I am honored to be a part of your life in this way. And, to answer another question of yours, in my opinion, I think she really wants to change. For Mr. Ramsey and for you.”

His throat tightens again as he hears her speak once more. “It takes a lot of courage for someone to visit their family after 25 years. Maybe she does really want to change. But I’m not making any options for you. This is your choice and yours only.”

She still aids him, even though he shut her out today. She still cherishes him, even though What did I do to deserve her? he thinks.

“Ethan? Are you there?” he hears her troubled voice. He speaks to alleviate her worry.

“...Thank you. For this, I mean. For always being there for me when I need you.”

She sighs contentedly . “Ethan, I told you once before, and I’ll tell this again, until you get it in your head. I’ll. Always. Be. There. For. You. Whether you like it. Or not.”

*Back to present*

“Ethan?” He hears a familiar voice from down the hallway. Seb. Next to him is what he presumes to be Jazmin. Their eyes are pinkish, cheeks blushed and streaked with tears.

How is he going to talk to them? How is he going to talk to Seb, the one most beloved friend that he has, cares for and trusts? How is he going to talk to Jazmin? Even though they hadn’t really seen each other before, they usually communicated on the phone a lot, and she seems to be the dear mother he never had until now. And he.. he failed them.

Seb speaks up first, looking at him straight in the eye. “We know everything, Ethan. We know.”

Ethan stands there. Not moving. His face looks deathly pale as he looks at him and his mother. They.. know? But ho-

“Did Naveen have anything to do with that?” Ethan replied angrily.

The successful surgeon sighs profoundly. “Yes, he told us. But before you say anything, just hear us out, okay?”

Ethan speaks low, in a terrifying voice that makes interns want to get away from him. He cuts Seb out before he states anything. “..I’m sorry. I apologize. I really am sorry. I can’t believe that woman really put her through this, and it almost seems unbelievable. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have started to trust Louise again. And I promise you that when I get that witch in my hands, I will-”

Jazmin instantly ceases him with a raise of her hand. “Son, do you think we’re mad at you?”

The attending’s eyebrows draw together as confusion overtakes his senses. They’re not enraged at me?

She chuckles slowly, as if sensing uncertainty. “To answer to your lack of certainty, I’m not mad. I’ll never be mad at you. you are not your mother. You are not Louise Ramsey, do you understand me, young man?”

Emotions. Sentiments. They’re flying around him as she announces these words. Suddenly he recalls the similar words his Rookie said.

But you are not your mother, do you understand that?

“I..”

Seb scores him off. “Ethan, stop blaming yourself for something you didn’t do. You never made a mistake and we know you love our Angel as much as we love her.”

“I... I love her, don’t I?”

His best friend snickers. “Took you long enough.”

Next to him, Jazmin is sending the doctor a goofy smile.

Suddenly, the moment of ease was interrupted gently by Caspian, a male nurse.

“Abigail Chacko?”

Ethan almost passed out from hearing her name. To not make the moment more awkward, Seb responds for him. “We’re here for her.”

“Abby is conscious and is asking for Dr. Ramsey.”

_______________________________________________________________

Mystery Man’s POV

I walk outside of the ‘prestigious’ hospital. No one minds me. They’re absolutely that stupid, aren’t they?

Louise calls me. “I escaped. Now tell me, what should I do next for our plan to be a success?”

I respond cautiously to her with ease. “Our secret spot. I’m on my way there. Meet me at 5 A.M. Sharp.”

Louise chuckles wickedly. “Marrying you does have its perks.”

I smile wickedly. “It indeed does.” Right away, I cut the call.

________________________________________________________________

A/N 2: any idea who the mystery man is? hint: it’s not alan.

A/N 3: sorry for the cliffhanger!! i promise you that you’ll know more soon.

tags: @missmiimiie @aylamwrites @starrystarrytrouble @udishaman @caseyvalentineramsey @queencarb @choicesstan1 @newcolonies @arcticrivers @angela8756 @takemyopenheart @rookie-ramsey @ohchoices @ohvamsey @ohramsey @natureblooms24 @drariellevalentine @openheartfanfics

#pixelberry choices #choices stories you play #open heart #open heart choices #pixelberry #pixelberry open heart #ethan ramsey #playchoices #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan ramsey x mc

61 notes · View notes

thosepurplebitches · 4 years ago

Text

TSR's Episode Commentary, “The Angel and Devil” and Aang’s Role

So I’ve read a few metas on “The Southern Raiders” that mention Bryke comparing Aang and Zuko to the “angel and devil” on Katara’s shoulder. I really believed this as fact. Upon actually listening to the episode’s commentary (that includes voice director Andrea Romano and Dante Basco), I’m disappointed that this information is misleading.

Mike and Bryan do not mention Zuko being the “devil”. In fact, Zuko’s role in the revenge trip and his relationship with Katara isn’t discussed at all, which is also disappointing. Instead of their commentary being anti-Zutara, it’s... non-Zutara, in an episode that’s supposed to be about their relationship.

Still, Bryan brings up Aang as a (guardian) angel during Katara’s confrontation with Yon Rha, in a way I think is more eyebrow-raising than labelling Zuko as the devil. He and Andrea commend Aang for his sage-like influence over Katara:

Bryan: I love that even though Aang isn’t in this story very much, to me his presence is in all of these scenes because you know he’s like the little angel on [Katara’s] shoulder that she’s ignoring at this time. To me, it is a story about Aang because it’s about him trying to have influence over her actions from afar, just by not telling her what she has to do, but just by gently suggesting what to try to achieve during this journey.

Andrea: It really is a juxtaposition there where the young Aang tells her like a parent, “go ahead, go out and do what you have to do, but please I hope that you choose forgiveness rather than revenge.” And here he is, the young one, and she is the older one, who should be sort of teaching him, but in fact they switch and he teaches her. So I agree with you, he is with her through this entire journey she goes through.

Bryan: I think it’s also interesting that if you look on paper, Aang has lost a lot more than Katara has, and he sort of gently reminds her of this. He’s like, “hey, my whole culture was wiped out; everyone I’ve ever known was wiped out.” But as we all know in real life, you can’t really quantify suffering. It’s really a personal thing. In everybody’s situation, when your own world crumbles, it seems like the whole world is falling apart. You can’t really equate these things, so we just see Katara lost in a very human moment in this episode.

Bryan is empathetic towards Katara’s motivations. He implies that Aang’s loss and Katara’s loss (and their reactions to that loss) shouldn’t be compared because they’re so personal. That’s at least something many pro-Zutara metas agree with, that Katara shouldn’t be vilified for lashing out just because Aang lost more. Bryan also doesn’t confirm or deny if Aang understood Katara’s exact feelings, which is interesting.

On the other hand, I think they give Aang too much credit for what is Katara’s own journey. They greatly diminish her agency by spinning this narrative of Aang as her guardian angel. It is frustrating to hear Katara’s most important episode be called a “story about Aang”.

First, Aang doesn’t “gently” nudge Katara in the right direction, like the way Iroh patiently does with Zuko. Aang’s first immediate reaction is accusatory towards Katara, in order to discourage her from finding Yon Rha. He tells Katara he supports her journey only after he finds Zuko and Katara trying to sneak out later that night. Along with Aang’s overall patronizing tone, Katara does not up to him. She remains dismissive when talking to him, even by the end when she supposedly learns her lesson.

Secondly, and more importantly, Katara doesn’t actually choose forgiveness when dealing with Yon Rha – she chooses non-violence. Somehow the creators conflate forgiveness and non-violence, when they can be separate results; in the literal script, Katara concludes that she “will never forgive [Yon Rha]”. She feels minor annoyance when Aang assumes she forgave Yon Rha, and she somewhat challenges his advice, choosing to forgive Zuko instead – I’m sure that’s not who Aang expected her to forgive at that moment. So it is debatable how much influence Aang had over Katara’s journey when she continues to disagree with him, which once again undermines Bryan and Andrea’s praise.

For an episode that is supposed to focus on Zuko and Katara – after Zuko/Aang and Zuko/Sokka are given the chance to bond in their own episodes – it is unfair for the episode commentary to place so much value on Aang’s role in the story. If Aang was so crucial to Katara's journey, why didn’t he tag along? To be her emotional support and moral compass right by her side, when she is at her most volatile? Instead of praising Aang for being the angel on her shoulder, Aang should’ve just been there. They forget that he wasn’t the only positive influence; Zuko was the one who offered the opportunity for closure in the first place, who accompanied Katara, allowing them to bond on a deeper emotional level. They also forget that Katara dismisses Aang’s attitude and advice: she chose on her own terms who deserved her forgiveness.

EDIT: This thread further discusses the episode’s wishy-washy authorial intent.

#zutara #kataang/maiko criticisms #meta #official #tsr #anti-kataang #anti-aang #if you're wondering 'they're the creators; this is what they intended': 1) death of the author; 2) they supervised but didn't write this ep #sorry aang i love you but bryke's favouritism is off-putting and isn't even reflected in the storytelling #why couldn't we see zuko/katara bonding platonically without inserting aang - it's just one episode guys

63 notes · View notes

simp-for-mha-men · 4 years ago

Text

𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕤: 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕖 (𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕜𝕚 𝕜𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕣𝕚 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣)

A/N: My first piece of writing! I hope that all of you enjoy it. I LOVE IT! (also a Denki stan, so ya know) I totally believe Denki is the kinda person to create friends only AND in person. Without further ado, here ya go.

Genre: fluffy fluff with mutual pining 💞

Word count: 2.3k

♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥

itzElectric has joined the chat

itzElectric: HEAR YE! HEAR YE! I SUMMON MY COMPANION @IceStorm TO CURE MY BOREDOM!

Denki Kaminari was once again on his phone, searching for the person who he began talking to only months ago in a future-hero chatroom. He remembered he slid into IceStorm’s DMs with a cheesy pick-up line: Do you know how much a polar bear weighs? Enough to break the ice. A classic one-liner he hoped wouldn’t scare the person on the other side of the screen away.

IceStorm ended up responding to the DM almost immediately, commenting on how the Titanic wouldn’t appreciate that opener. Denki knew from that simple reply that he and IceStorm were going to get along just fine.

IceStorm, whose name he later found out was (y/n), was an all around perfect human being. Seriously, they were. Denki swore to the Bakusquad that if you looked up the definition of perfect in the dictionary, (y/n)’s tag would be next to it.

Their quirk related to the online name they chose for themselves. The fact that they could not only produce ice from their body but also turn any bodies of water, like clouds or lakes, into ice was fascinating to the electric boy. He, in turn, shared his quirk with (y/n). He even sent a video of himself in full “Dumb Denki” mode, to which he received an audio clip of them laughing hysterically as a reply.

The two online friends shared everything with each other. When (y/n) broke up with their first boyfriend, they talked with Denki the entire night over voice chat. When Denki started doubting himself and his placement in UA’s hero course, the future ice hero immediately gave him a million reasons on why he was going to become a great hero.

It took Chargebolt only 3 months to realize that he had developed feelings for his online friend after sending that fateful DM. He couldn’t tell (y/n) though. No way. If he did, they would probably block him, maybe even delete their account and create a new one just to get away from him for good.

How did this happen you might ask? Well, it began when (y/n) and Denki found out they were the same age. They also both wanted to become pro-heroes, obviously. Plus, all of their interests lined up with each other. It was as if fate pulled them both together through an internet connection and an obsession with Tik Tok memes.

Snapping out of his trance, Denki realized he had been zoning out for a few minutes to recount how he met his current crush. He was so head-over-heels for a person he had only ever heard and not seen that he didn’t even check if IceStorm was online.

Doing just what his brain thought of, he clicked IceStorm’s profile in his friends list and saw what he wished to see the most. Next to a green dot read the words Status: Online, making Denki’s heart rate speed up just a bit.

Instead of waiting for more time to pass, and considering it was almost 2 AM on a Friday night, he DMed the ice maker.

itzElectric: hey.....you lowkey left me hangin in the main chat 😔

He hoped, prayed, and wished that (y/n) would respond. He wanted his partner in crime. His meme expert. His muse. He wanted another audio clip of them singing songs horribly off-key or laughing at another ridiculously stupid Tik Tok. He wanted his heart to flutter in his chest just a bit more. He wanted to feel them in person. He wanted...no, needed to video chat with (y/n).

They had known each other for a total of 8 months, and graduation was coming up for the both of them. If he could video chat with (y/n), maybe he could work up the courage and ask to meet them at the café near U.A. It had the best pastries, something that he knew they would love.

itzElectric: something up? you know you can tell me anything

Very rarely did it take you more than a couple of seconds to respond to the blonde. It worried him. What if something had happened? What if you were doubting yourself? What if you had gotten injured? What if you were--

Suddenly, his phone vibrated. He never had picked it up faster in his life. As he looked down at the message he had just sent, he felt his face heat up slightly when he read your response.

IceStorm: nah nothing’s wrong. was someone worried about me? lol 🥴

He was so happy you couldn’t see his blushing face. However, little did he know the reason you didn’t meet him in the chat room was because you were thinking about what to say. Also, you were blushing as well.

Going to Shiketsu was a big deal, and you never wanted to get distracted. When you met itzElectric online, everything changed. You began developing feelings. It was an issue, but it was a very, very good issue. You had never seen his face. All you wanted to do was video chat with him. If you could video chat with Denki, maybe you could work up the courage and ask to meet him at the café near U.A. It had the best frappes, something that you knew he would love.

You felt your heart rate pick up when Denki responded to your previous message.

itzElectric: obviously. if you died or something, who would make me feel better about myself? 👉🏻👈🏻🥺

Denki began questioning his latest reply. It sounded clingy, he thought. He might as well have just dug his own grave. Who would say something like that?

IceStorm: awwww is my bb giving me a compliment 💘

Your heart soared with emotion. This man, separated by a screen, was your world. You could never have him, though. If you did, he would get freaked out. Besides, you knew he was a flirt with how many pick-up lines he got your opinion on.

itzElectric: well.....since your online, i wanted to ask you something kinda important

Denki knew he shouldn’t be typing anything to them. He knew that this could make or break their entire relationship. In a couple minutes, he might be blasting The One That Got Away by Katy Perry and crying. Despite this, he waited for (y/n)’s reply.

IceStorm: sure. what’s up?

itzElectric: i feel like we have a pretty strong connection....so can we maybe see each other

You might as well have gone into cardiac arrest. This man, the man you’ve had a crush for 4 months, just asked you to meet him. Or was it a video chat request? Maybe just pictures? You needed clarification before you freaked out even more.

IceStorm: what do you mean? like in person or....?

Denki froze. In person? YOU wanted to meet HIM in person? That did not catch him off guard. No, totally not. It punched, kicked, and threw him off guard. That wasn’t suppose to happen. He wanted to video chat then meet up with you. Could this happen out of order?

IceStorm: yo....pika? gonna answer me?

The electric boy typed before his brain could tell him to stop what he was doing.

itzElectric: can you video chat right now?

He wanted exactly what you wanted. The months of banter over chat and stupid voice memos led up to this, but you couldn’t believe it. The two of you could never be together. Denki had to have a girlfriend or boyfriend. There’s no way a catch like him would still be single. Still, you typed your response out immediately.

IceStorm: yes

Your phone began vibrating profusely due to the incoming call. In the moment, you forgot to turn on any lights. Leaping out of your bed, you scrambled to turn on the lamp that was on your desk. You then turned on the one next to the bed. Then, you did the unthinkable: you answered the call.

When the phone stopped ringing, Denki saw you. Oh my All Might.....why didn’t he do this sooner? He was floored by your looks. You were even better than perfect. Your face held a soft expression that made him turn almost as red as a tomato. Your hair complemented the irises of your eyes beautifully. It was as if you weren’t even human. You were just an angel visiting him for a brief moment.

You were seeing him in the same light. His blonde hair and bright yellow eyes made a fire ignite in your heart. He held a goofy grin, one you had imagined many nights before falling asleep. However, you were very far off. His entire persona was fixated in that grin. It was absolutely phenomenal.

“Hi,” you started, letting out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

“Hey,” he responded.

Denki was speechless. You were enamored. This was everything you both wanted.

“So,” you began, “should I call you Denki or itzElectric?”

“Whatever you want.”

Denki wasn’t using his brain anymore. It was as if he short-circuited himself without using his quirk. He was responding to everything you said from his heart. It was all out of love for you.

You giggled a bit, bringing the electricity user back to his senses.

“Why all of this suddenly?” you questioned.

“I wanted to see you.”

“Really?”

“No. I,” Denki paused and inhaled, “I needed to see you. To hear you. To just be with you.”

Your face became flushed as if you had been training for the past 5 hours. The guy you had fallen so hard for needed to see you? He wasn’t acting flirty or overly comedic. He was peaceful and had a glint in his eye. Could it be--?

“D-dude! You can’t just s-say things like that,” you stammered in the best voice possible.

Denki was whipped for you. He glanced at the clock and realized it was 2:18. He needed to be up at 7 for a morning run with Kirishima. He’s run on no sleep before from talking to you all night, but tomorrow was going to be a strenuous training day. He had to get everything off of his chest.

“Listen,” Denki said, “(y/n), I really--”

“N-no. Just w-wait a minute,” you cut in.

Two very different emotions coursed through you both. You felt a sense of purpose, bordering on the edge of extreme shyness. Denki felt nervous, bile already threatening his throat.

“I like you,” you stated.

His eyes grew the size of dinner plates. You did not just say that. He just had too much caffeine before bed. Wait, he didn’t have anything with caffeine before bed.

“L-like as m-more than a friend. You’re really cool, and I want to see you,” you ended.

When you realized he hadn’t said anything, you panicked. Trying to cover up your embarrassment, you just started spewing out word vomit.

“You know what? Forget I said anything. It’s clear that you are totally not ready to talk about that. I mean you probably have someone else in mind, right? I’m not the best looking. My jokes are subpar. I mean, I’m not even that confi--”

“In person?”

“Wait...what?”

“Do you want to see me in person?” Denki asked.

He was floored. The person, who he had feelings for, liked him back. For the first time in his life, the pick-up lines and corny jokes worked. He was truly himself and still got the prize: love.

“Yes,” you replied. “I really, really want to see you in person.”

“You can on one condition.”

You tilted your head, clearly confused by his statement. He chuckled at this and continued talking.

“You have to let me hold your hand.”

“What?”

“I like you too, IceStorm.”

Your online username coming out of his mouth made you smile so wide. It also could’ve been the fact that the guy you fell so hard for reciprocated your feelings.

“Want to meet at the café near your school on Sunday? At around 1?” you blurted, hoping that wouldn’t be too soon for him.

“Absolutely. Speaking of which,” he began, “I need to test out my newest pick-up line.”

You rolled your eyes, faking distaste, but on the inside, you wanted nothing more than to hear it. After all, he felt the same way about you. It was bound to make your heart soar even more now.

“Do you like coffee?” he smirked. “Because I like you a latte.”

You couldn’t help bursting out in laughter and blushing profusely. He, in turn, laughed with you and felt butterflies in his stomach. This continued for a couple of minutes before both of you could catch your breaths and refocus yourselves on the conversation.

You were ecstatic. He was elated. You actually did it. You admitted your feelings to the one guy you never thought you could have. You were everything to him. He would electrocute the whole world just for you to smile if necessary. It was as if fate had finally done its job.

Forgetting about his morning run with Kirishima, Denki started a new conversation about the latest Tik Tok he saw. You replied with your usual sarcasm to which he pretended to be mortified by your opinion.

It went on for hours. The two of you were genuinely happy. Hopefully, Denki would ask you on a date soon. Maybe, you might have to, but who knows.

Suddenly, in the midst of talking about plans after high school, a knock sounded on Denki’s door. He glanced at the clock and realized it was Kirishima.

“Be out in few!” he yelled, jumping out of bed.

He threw his phone down, which still had the call going, and got dressed at lightning speed. Once you had calmed down from laughing at his urgency, he picked up the phone and said something you’ll never forget.

“I’ll see you soon, my wonderful snowflake. Zapping out!”

115 notes · View notes

sinfulsachi · 4 years ago

Text

Kinktober 2020.10.26

Prompt: Temperature Play Other Tags: Outdoor Sex, Vanilla Words: 1,824 Fandom: Detective Conan - ShinRan

Sliding open the shōji that leads to a quaint, snow-filled traditional Japanese garden, Ran finds Shinichi already dipped comfortably in their private little onsen, his arms splayed along its stony perimeter, head tipped and eyes closed like he’s napping.

She smiles fondly; seeing him like that is relaxing in itself.

For their honeymoon, Shinichi has booked a private hot spring in one elegant ryokan in Hakone, and Ran is nothing short of overjoyed. What better way to spend winter than doing winter activities and ending with a nice warm hot spring bath with the love of her life?

Ambling her way to her husband of three days, she slides off her light yukata, the falling of the garment around her feet alerting him of her presence.

Shinichi tilts his head up and blushes at the sight of her. Even if he has seen her naked countless times, that doesn’t make him revere her glorious bare form any less.

“So soothing,” Ran speaks first, sighing angelically as she tucks a stray strand that has escaped her bun behind her ear. She tests the temperature with her toes before dipping both feet in, water stopping mid thigh, and she sits beside him.

Oh, the countless times he bathed with her as Conan. But now, though the same person, the feeling is much different. He’s actually there - his real body and flesh - and it feels so right to hold her flush against him without any lingering guilt on his part.

“Indeed,” he says, as he pulls her gently to him so that her back presses flat on his chest. His arms hug her waist in the water, his chin finding purchase over her smooth shoulder. “Such a nice break from the hustle and bustle of the city.”

"We’re married, Shinichi. Can you believe it?” She whirls her head sideways, and he catches his breath at the lovely dazzle of her eyes that pair beautifully with the misty, moonlit wintery night. Everything about the season and his wife is perfect.

"I can’t,” his nose nuzzles her soft, pink cheek like a cat. “You have to pinch me. Until now I still think I’m dreaming.”

Ran giggles, her graceful hand crawling onto his left thigh to give it a light squeeze. "You’re living the dream now, silly.” Flinching under her touch, her husband tightens the hold of his thighs on either side of her, intent to lock her in his embrace forever.

“It’s my dream, too. It’s ours.” Ran stresses, meeting his soft gaze with one of her own. The timpani of their matching heartbeats creates a beautiful melody in the stillness of the night.

The newlywed couple smile in each others’ lips, finding no need for words as they meet for a blissful kiss. Even in such angle, they slot with ease, and the incredible warmth of their lips is enough to convey to the other the fervent love and affection stored within every fiber of their being.

Hugging her close, Shinichi hikes his hands up, nestling on the cave under her breasts. Ran curves her slender back ever so slightly, making for a beautiful bow, breasts perking up, and the water ripples with the movement.

Not disconnecting their lips, he cups one full breast in his hands, enjoying his wife’s cute reaction when he starts flicking on a nipple.

“Shinichi...” she looks at him with glassy eyes, “I love you.”

“I love you so much more,” he says, gentle hands kneading her chest under the water, feeling and loving her in all ways possible. “I want you to be the happiest woman on earth.”

“But I’m already the happiest,” she endears, tracing the outline of his jaw with heated fingers that’s been soaked under water for quite a while.

“Then I’ll make you happier than happiest,” Shinichi croons, kissing her chastely on the lips. “I’ll make you ecstatic,” he cranes Ran’s head to the side, giving his mouth access to her supple neck, “Euphoric...every day of every week.”

“Oh,” Ran doesn’t suppress her delighted moan from his nibble on the soft muscle of her shoulder, “You can certainly try...starting tonight.”

With that said, his other hand eases onto the junction between her thighs, hot finger pads tracing her hot slit in one slow upward stroke and Ran whimpers softly. The source of her wetness isn’t from the onsen alone. The almost scalding temperature somehow adds to the pleasing, shuddering sensation coiling in her belly as he twirls his skillful fingers over her swollen nub, and she doesn’t find it inconvenient one bit.

Both his hands are filled with her, massaging her lovely privates in earnest. Ran’s nipples and clit erect so early under his touch - far earlier than normal - and she knows he must’ve realized those too as she feels his responding cock twitch against her lower back.

Craving for a fuller view, Shinichi whirls her by her shoulders so that he’s face to face with her round, heaving breasts. He doesn’t waste a single moment in taking her pink nipple into his mouth and the other between two fingers. Thoroughly electrified, she arches her back onto him, and Shinichi encloses her right breast with his slick moist mouth, suckling and planting love marks all over it like a treasure map.

Beneath the waters, Ran is already working her snug fist around his cock, sliding her fingers ever so slowly from the base up to the ring of his tip, fondling his balls occasionally. Unable to suppress his heightening arousal, he muffles his groan on the valley of her breasts, vibrations of his mouth rippling through her half cold, half hot skin.

Then Shinichi calls her attention with a pat on her hips, disconnecting his tongue from her nipples for a second to catch her heady gaze. “I’d like to try something.”

"Hmm,” she doesn’t slow her hands down, “what is it, Shinichi.”

“I’d like to make the most out of our winter hot spring experience...”

Despite his unwillingness to stop her beating hand, he manages to pull her with him to a stand, hot water dribbling down their skin and evaporating to the wind, and making them both shudder at the dry coolness of air. “But in order to do this you have to trust me.”

“O...kay,” there is slight hesitance in her voice, but he reassures her with a soft kiss. “We aren’t going to do something rough,” he breathes on her lips, “just something...fitting for this night.”

He turns her around, both of them facing the edge of the onsen and bends her over its smooth, stony perimeter. Thin sheets of snow cushion her palms, contrasting the warmth and steam she feels on her legs dipped in the onsen and her skin numbs in a good way. His soothing, warm hands dragging along her spine, on her hips and buttocks insulate her body from the cold winter air.

She cannot see him but she hears the water splash behind her, and in the span of a breath, she feels the impression of his teeth on her inner thigh, going up until hot, muscular tongue presses on her bulbous nub.

“Oh— Ah!” she mewls, her dry throat unable to produce anything short of a moan. The feel of his nose bumping her ass cheeks and mouth devouring her folds drain her knees of strength, but his strong and ready arms support her wobbling posture.

No sooner does she feel the need to buck her hips onto his face, his mouth leaves her, only to be replaced by his thick, moist girth and before she knows it, he’s already slipped inside her and is pumping in and out, making her absolutely molten inside.

“Oh my god—”

Outside, the hot water and icy air fight for dominance on the planes of her damp skin, blood circulating in a rush through her body into sensitive nerve ends. But her insides, oh, he’s lighting her ablaze. She hasn’t known until now that it’s possible to be frigid and on fire at the same time.

Fingertips like icicles, she digs them deep in sheets of snow as she chants his name in puffs of air. Desperate for more body heat, she inclines her head back to reach for his lips, and their tongues twined while his fingers twirl her nipples. She shudders at the hotness of his flesh, her nipples pebbling from the stimulus. Ran figures he might be occasionally wetting his hand on the water to maintain the level of temperature she prefers. And god it feels fantastic.

“M-My, Shinichi, this feels—“

“Not done yet.” His finger traces her skin southwards, leaving a blazing trail in its wake as it reaches once again for her pert clit. Ran’s hips thrust back in surprise, the drastic temperature change from cold wind to warm flesh doing wonders to her trembling body.

Shinichi meets her thrusts halfway, encircling his fingers over her wet pearl while he makes tender love with her from behind. She’s never been this close to heaven before, feeling her soul leaving her with every twist of his hips and ghost of his thick breath against her shoulder blades.

Hips snapping and slamming against her, Shinichi loses his rhythm as he approaches his climax. Ran’s incredibly numb of the snow on her palms now as the heat produced by the steam and his thrusts and their sweat engulf her entirely until she can literally feel her whole body on fire. The buzzing heat radiates down her core and her stomach coils, walls clenching around him tight.

Hot come flows through her in waves, overwhelming her insides. His hips pause momentarily from the erratic spurts of his release and then moves again in a much slower speed, coaxing her with his fast fingers until she reaches her own sweet finish line.

Both are breathless as they slowly descend into the water, now tainted with the by-products of their lovemaking. None of that matters when she’s just had one of the most memorable orgasms in her life.

“How was it,” Shinichi murmurs weakly on her hair, still recovering from the post-coital haze.

Though exhausted and very much spent, Ran still seems to glow before his eyes. “Shinichi, I’ve never... I don’t know what to say I’m...” Craning her head to see his face, she brings a stiff hand to his cheek. “My hands are so...numb.”

He laughs at his wife’s comment, sandwiching both her hands with his own to share his body heat. “But was it good? Steamy?”

Blushing profusely, she gives a small nod, her back nestling snuggly on the comfort of his chest. “I’ve never... The cold and...Y-You make me... Gosh, I just love you so much. You make me happy.”

Shinichi’s lips curve up to a satisfied grin. "Like I said, that’s my goal,” he kisses her hair, rubs their intertwined hands together, “my goal, every day of every week.”

#dcmk pairing: shinran #pwp #my writing #kinktober 2020 #late upload

44 notes · View notes