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itsthemoofacewriting · 4 years ago

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Just for a while

So I actually used this to get through my writer’s block and take a break from my other WIPs. Before I knew it, it was complete, so I figured I’d share it. It’s a bit drabble-ish and incredibly self-indulgent.

I tried to watch the film to get some of the scenes right, but then I kept getting swept away in the film, so there’s going to be to be differences. Then again, they weren’t a couple in the film, and I’ve added some scenes, so does it really matter?

Summary: Zoro was weak with children, Chopper was a prime example of that, and Nami was no exception. Film Z. Rating: T. Some suggestiveness.

This can also be found on AO3 and FFN.

Enjoy!

Zoro’s ears were ringing, screeching in protest at the loud noise from the blast, and his back hurt from being hurled across the ship. It was dull but it was there. But it reminded him that they weren’t in the clear yet and his reflexes were kicking in, grabbing for his swords, or at least trying to. His body was bound in thick green ropes that didn’t given an inch no matter how much he protested.

Smoke filled his nose, and he gave up on escaping for the time being to take in the view. It was hard to believe he’d managed to ignore it for this long. The ship was on fire, black smoke billowing from what seemed like every surface. The galley was gone, completely blown open and surrounded by flames licking their way further across the ship.

The scene was horrific. Sunny was in trouble.

It was hard to decide what to focus on first in all the chaos, but he quickly found something that made his stomach drop.

Luffy being crushed in a Z’s hand.

He looked weak and defeated, it was an awful look on him. Something that had Zoro wanting to grab for his swords to rectify the scene immediately.

Goddamn it. He needed out.

Like a dirty tissue, Luffy was thrown to the floor, apparently not worthy of being killed in a fight. Something Zoro knew would grate him, but at least there wasn’t an immediate threat of a dead Captain.

His gaze flitted quickly around to check everyone else was accounted for and somewhat okay. It stopped on what he presumed was Nami only a few feet in front of him. It looked like her, the orange hair a dead giveaway… but smaller. Much, much smaller. What the hell had been happening out here before? Frowning, he stored that thought away for later.

Shit. He needed to move. Now. He had to do something, they were in trouble and there he was just sitting around. Movement caught his eye and he saw the Cook also bound, struggling to be freed.

Shit, shit, shit.

Now it was really bad, all three of them were down.

Nami caught his struggling and ran over to him before he could call over to her. Her small hands were trying to pry the green vines away from him.

“Do I want to know why you’re a child?” His eyebrows were furrowed as he got a proper look at her. It was Nami alright.

“Not the time. Later,” she huffed, small hands gripping the vines and yanking on them, but they wouldn’t budge. She wasn’t strong enough right now.

And it wasn’t the time it seemed. Because the ship exploded around them as cannon balls relentlessly fired at them and it didn’t help Nami who was still attempting to free him. She was almost knocked off her feet when the ship was hit again and if she went overboard, no one would be there the dive after her. He was getting more and more frustrated by the second.

When he looked to his left, Chopper wasn’t getting much further with the cook.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Usopp, Franky and Brook were just as trapped as him.

And Luffy was furious. It was rare to see his Captain like that. He was back on his feet, quickly recovering, and hanging off the side of the ship, snarling at them to come back. Robin was doing her best to talk him down, but he wasn’t listening and Zoro could feel his already thin temper about to snap. At everything. It had all gone so wrong so quickly.

Him and the cook were useless.

Luffy couldn’t see past his own anger.

Nami was a child.

They’d lost.

But not everything.

Just as he was about to bark at Luffy to get his head on straight, Robin finally got through to him after another cannonball hit their ship and almost capsized them.

Luffy was in action then, freeing Franky, as Robin worked on securing herself and the others.

“Hold on,” Zoro commanded, now looking back down at Nami, who in all the chaos still hadn’t given up. Franky was just about to fire up a coupe de burst and the last thing he needed was her falling off the ship. Especially when he couldn’t go after her.

It didn’t take long for her to understand before she was nodding back and clinging to him as they sailed through the air away from the attack. He was too tied up to properly hold onto her, no matter how much he wanted to.

The mood was off when they landed on the first island available. Luffy’s face solemn as he stood with Franky assessing the damage to the ship. The rest of the crew left them, gathering instead across the water from the ship to discuss what had happened and what their next move was going to be.

He hadn’t been incredibly involved in the discussion; he’d been too focused on Nami. It was unsettling. She was still exactly the same, bold and bossy, but instead it was all packaged into a miniature body.

There was no way around it, she was cute, and it left him in a strange position. Normally he’d snark her, draw her into an argument, especially when she was somewhat upset, to take her mind off of it, but now he didn’t feel like he could. It was almost as bad as picking on Chopper.

Nami said something about being returned to normal, standing up outraged and he should have known that the moment the cook opened his mouth he would be annoyed.

Gritting his teeth, Zoro could feel his patience dangerously thinning. He was used to the idiot cook spouting off nonsense to Nami and that hadn’t changed when they had got together. Normally he’d just ignore it, it was hardly like he was a threat, and she could handle herself. But today already hadn’t been a good day and when the pervert started talking about her body, he was ready to fight.

Unable to resist, he uttered out an irritated, “Creep,” and that seemed to do it. The focus was on him then and Nami started to look comfortable again. As soon as the shoving starting, she was breaking them apart, just before a full-on brawl could start.

Disgruntled, Zoro looked across the waters to see Luffy peeling away from Franky with the old man and when they saw each other, Luffy nodded at him. That was his cue. Zoro stood and motioned with his head for them to start walking.

He slowed for a second, waiting for Nami to catch up before continuing forward. He was only a few strides in when he noticed she was struggling to keep up, stuck in a weird running walk pace. He laughed to himself, she was tiny now, her previously long legs were now replaced with stumps and she was too proud to say anything.

He had the urge to take her hand and the sudden thought surprised him. They’d never held hands before this, unless it was crowded or she was guiding him somewhere, they were fairly low key with their relationship unless alone. Yet the urge to do it was strong, and really, he knew why.

When she stumbled, he was bending down without a second thought to pick her up and her legs sitting around his waist on the side of his body. She weighed almost nothing, and, to his surprise, she didn’t resist. Which was fine, great even, because then he didn’t have to think about scrapped knees, but the cooing that started from behind them made the back of his neck feel hot. Zoro wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or Nami… or both of them. But that didn’t stop the red from spreading to his ears.

He had no idea what possessed him to do that, they weren’t very big on public displays of affection normally but Nami didn’t complain as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and determinedly looked everywhere but at his face.

Cute.

He was loath to admit it, lest he be compared to the pervert, but like this she was. He tried to shrug it off, ignoring the loud whispers from behind and act casual.

The next couple of days were going to be hard.

Zoro didn’t like it.

The older man that had been talking to Luffy and Franky had told them all about Z whilst giving them food and drinks. But that wasn’t the problem. They needed to gather more information about Z’s whereabouts, which again, wasn’t a problem but it had led to Nami announcing it would be down to her, Robin, Usopp and Chopper.

Apparently Zoro and the others were too obvious. Liabilities she’d called them. He wasn’t sure how that logic worked out, when they were going with a walking, talking reindeer that could changed forms at whim.

“I should go with you,” Zoro said, watching as Nami tied her sandal.

The group going out to get information already had their change of clothes and were getting changed in a secluded alleyway away from any nosey passers-by’s. She’d already changed into her dress and sandals, all that was left was her hair. They’d be going their separate ways after that.

Nami sighed, eyebrows furrowing as she looked up at him. “We’ve been over this, you’re too obvious.”

“And a talking reindeer and long nose isn’t?” It was a good point.

“Usopp’s great at sneaking and Chopper’s barely noticeable with how tiny he is now.”

“And if things go wrong?” He didn’t want to entertain that thought, but he still did. The island was swarming with marines.

“We have Robin and Usopp, it’s fine,” Nami assured. “Also, it won’t go wrong, I’m great at this.” She was trying to tie her hair into a ponytail but with how much hair she had and her little arms, she struggled.

He knew she was right; she was great at this. She did it long before he came around to back her up. Except she wasn’t herself right now, she was a miniature version of herself.

Zoro held his hand out, silently asking for the hair tie. “You’re not yourself right now.” He gathered her hair, his hands smoothed over her hair a few times to ensure no bumps, he didn’t need her nagging him, and looped the band around a few times.

She checked his work, hands roaming over her hair, searching for bumps that weren’t there before giving the ponytail a tug to tighten it. She didn’t praise him for his efforts, instead she dropped two golden bands in hands and turned to face him. That was his praise, he figured as he picked the bands to start working on the front.

Nami stood patiently in the gap between his legs as he worked. “And that’s exactly why we don’t need you and the others attracting attention.”

She had him there. Brook drew attention because, well, skeleton, that didn’t need to be explained. Zoro and Luffy were too well known, even without his swords and Luffy’s hat, but not so much Sanji…

“Take the cook then.” He was an idiot and had especially got on his nerves today, but he was strong and somewhat reliable.

“And at the first sight of a woman? We don’t have time to find him or reign him in.”

Screw that, he was good for nothing right now.

There was nothing more he could say. He didn’t mean to sound like he doubted his own crewmates, they were strong, and time and time again they’d proved that. But they weren’t their selves right now, they weren’t a whole. They had two much younger members than normal with an island full of marines.

Nami was a magnet for trouble at the best of times and the love cook was the least of his problems. It was common knowledge what could happen to children out in the new world. All it would take was one skilled person, or a moment of distraction and she’d be gone without a word.

The thought of that happening had a knot forming in his stomach and he was about to say that he was going whether they liked it or not, until Nami rested a small hand on his forearm and smiled up at him reassuringly. And like the sap that he was, he melted instantly, all the fight bleeding out of him.

He wasn’t sure if she knew of his weakness yet, but something told him she’d realise soon enough.

“Do you know how close we were to leaving you behind?” Nami berated, arms angrily crossed in front of her as she stood before him, not caring that the train was moving. Except her anger didn’t have the same effect as it usually did in her childlike form.

“You’ve said about five times already,” Zoro replied tiredly.

Their day had not improved at all. From the information group coming back with a hoard of marines on their tail, to Z shooting Luffy and the four of them almost being engulfed by lava whilst Nami and the others waited anxiously at the train station. Despite her anger now, when she’d seen them running towards the train, lava steadily overtaking the island just behind them, she’d looked relived.

He suspected Luffy still being passed out was to blame for her particularly sour mood, all the crew were worried in the packed train.

“Because you still don’t look like you get it.”

Naturally an angry child telling off an adult attracted attention, although Zoro didn’t really care about that, he just shrugged off the looks and focused on Nami. But when a man opposite from them gave her an appraising look that lingered far longer than acceptable, it put his back up. Zoro sent the man a scathing look that had him shrinking away as he scooped Nami onto his lap.

“I do. We made you worry,” he said, matter-of-factly, not taking his eye off the man until he got up to find somewhere else to sit.

The anger dispersed then, her frame relaxing on his lap as she got comfortable. “I’m going to go grey early; I swear.” She shook her head, but her tone was fonder than anything else.

They lulled into silence, swaying with the movements of the train, and letting the murmur from other passengers fill the quiet. Nami’s gaze slowly took in everyone, from strangers to the crew, one by one until it landed back on Zoro.

“It’s a shame you don’t dress like this more often,” Nami sighed, small hands playing with the collar of his neckline.

“Tch, not worth it. Too many layers.” He was already itching to take off the shirt. “Besides, I had a jacket on this morning.”

“Which is ruined now, do you know how hard it is to find a nice jacket that you’ll wear?”

“Because you insist that I wear a top underneath, pick either a top or a jacket, I’ll only wear one,” he told her, but the likelihood was he’d end up removing that too.

Whilst she was fussing over his jacket, trying to wipe some dirt off the fabric, her arm caught his attention. There were faint marks starting to bloom on her upper arm. He gently caught her arm and turned it to get a better look.

It was finger marks, four clustered together and a single one opposite.

Someone had grabbed her.

He’d guessed something had gone wrong earlier, based on the hoard of marines that had chased them all the way back to the rest of the crew, but he’d just thought a marine had finally recognised one of them. Not that she’d been grabbed and almost hauled way. It was exactly what he’d been worried about.

He looked at her sharply and she looked back at him warily.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He’d focus on her first, he couldn’t exactly do anything with his anger when the person that’d hurt her was long gone.

“Don’t worry about it, I made it worse by resisting.” And Nami must have sensed it was the wrong thing to say because she quickly added, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

That didn’t help his anger, but she was right. She told him Robin came after her as soon as she’d seen, and it soothed him at least. Another example of how dependable his crewmates were.

He rubbed gently along her arm, smoothing over the marks and he wasn’t sure if it was for her benefit or his.

“You’ve been very affectionate,” she said observationally.

And there it was. His hand stuttered on her arm for a second before he caught himself and continued, trying not to react to what she’d said. It’d taken far longer than he’d thought for someone to say something, but there was nothing he could say in his defence and the last thing he was going to do was agree, so he stayed silent instead. Not that that would help him.

Nami smirked up at him as he refused to make eye contact or speak, but that didn’t stop her from continuing, “Who’d have believed the fearsome pirate hunter was soft around all children. I thought it was just Chopper.”

“I’m not, we’re together, it makes sense.” That probably didn’t sound appropriate to anyone eavesdropping, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“You don’t normally hold my hand or pick me up… And you’ve been much more obliging.”

“It was convenient. You’ve got stumpy legs and I’ve got places to be,” he easily lied.

She didn’t look convinced. “And now?”

He had nothing to say to that. He was the one that had dragged her onto his lap, his arms still firmly wrapped around her to ensure she didn’t fall if there was a sudden movement… and to let people know she wouldn’t be an easy grab. He tried not to think about what a sap he’d looked like since she’d been turned into a child, but his mind still unhelpfully played it on a reel. How he’d caved whenever she so much as looked at him, offered to do things for her without her having to nag him, didn’t argue with her.

How embarrassing. His ears burned.

“It’s cute that you tried to hide it.”

It was the glint in her eye that gave her away that made him realise.

“You knew?” He asked, but he already knew the answer.

“I had a hunch, I knew from the moment you first picked me up,” she smiled up at him evilly, all innocence gone from her face.

She was the devil. Mislabelled into an adorable, tiny package.

“It’s almost worth staying like this, you’re as easy as Sanji-kun,” she looked downright smug and there was no doubt in his mind that she was imagining having the both of them wrapped around her finger.

That had him gritting his teeth in disgust, to be compared to him. He was about to say something caustic, just to wipe that smug grin off her face, until her eyes turned large, and she looked up at him remorsefully, lip quivering.

She wasn’t sorry at all, he knew that, but those glossy eyes stopped the foul words in their tracks. He huffed, annoyed, and looked the other way as Nami laughed at him. But he didn’t remove her from his lap.

Robin gave him an amused look.

She found him in the crow’s nest late in the day, head popping up through the entrance and pulling herself up when she saw him.

“How’s Luffy?” He asked, as she walked towards him.

“Quiet, but he’ll be alright.”

The mood on board had been weird since they’d left Piriodo, everyone subdued, and it was mainly due to Luffy’s lack of cheerful energy. Everyone had pretty much kept to themselves since they set off. It’d be back to normal tomorrow, after everyone had slept it off.

She stood in front of him from where he was sat on the bench and he braced himself when he caught the look on her face. He didn’t like it.

“Am I still allowed to sit in your lap? Or was that offer only there when I was a child?” She teased, eyes dancing in amusement.

Yup. He knew it. He rolled his eye; he’d be putting up with those jabs for a while.

She took his silence and sour expression as affirmation to her first question, but instead of sitting on his lap like she had back on the train, she straddled his lap, a leg going either side.

It was a fitting example really, of the difference between her as a child and being back to her usual age. The occasional glimpses of innocence on her face as a child were long gone, along with the soft rounded features of youth that had turned him into a fool. In its place were sharper angles and cunning eyes that displayed a coquettish expression that had a very different effect on him- one that made his blood heat for her.

As adorable as she was as a child, he’d missed her. He’d missed this version. No matter how infuriating she could be.

“Happy to have me back?” She questioned, but her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

His arms settled dangerously low on her hips and his smirk was challenging as he replied, “Now I can argue with you and not feel bad.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she said and laid on her best doe-eyed look. Her eyes shifted in an instant, from seductive to innocent, all glossy and defenceless, something that didn’t fit the current position they were currently in.

He’d never let her know that even as an adult, that look still had him. Perhaps in a different way now, but he’d keep it hidden through grimaces and sharp words, otherwise he’d never know peace again.

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” he snorted, hands pulling her body tighter against his and the time for bickering had come to an end.

Their kiss was easy, almost leisurely, as they basked in the feeling of each other’s lips, of being back to normal. Although it wasn’t something that stayed that way for long. Gradual pecks started to linger, searching for something more as lips slid against the others and closed mouths parted as hands moved with intent, to places far from innocent.

There was no rush, they had all evening without disruptions, so that was why he pulled away to say:

“Besides, I prefer this angry, nagging version.”

What he hadn’t missed was how strong her punches were.

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

I mean, jokes on Zoro, he’s always been wrapped around her finger. He just put up less of a fight when she’s small.

In case I go quiet again, I’ll leave you with this- I’ve been writing something that I’m very excited about and can’t wait for you all to see, but until then, enjoy this ZoNami crumb.

As always, forgive any errors.

Thanks for reading.

#ZoNami #ZoNa #Swordgust #zoroxnami #opfanfic #opwriting #one piece #zoro #nami

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asa-sauce · 4 years ago

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“i know you don't know me, but...”

❀ asahi azumane x reader

flavor: honey mustard

warnings: none!

a/n: hi! thank you for reading this if you do. this is my first haikyuu!! fanfic. i think i might make a part 2 of this, so let me know if you guys want one! also, request something! give me something to write! and don't worry, the ukai fic will come out tomorrow!!! (ps. reader is 18)

+ after getting kicked out of the house, you find yourself on a bus stop bench, talking to a tall stranger in the rain.

What the hell am I gonna do?

The question ran marathons around your mind, racing faster each time the rain fell heavier.

Just twenty minutes prior, after a heated argument with your mother, you found yourself face to face with the front door. She had kicked you out for something so stupid and minuscule—’forgetting’ to do the dishes.

“If you’re not going to take care of this house, you’re not going to live here,” was one out of the many things she yelled at you.

But it wasn’t your fault dance rehearsal was scheduled an hour earlier than usual on such late notice; you had no choice but to wash the other half of the dishes when you got back. You had hoped that, even with her quick temper and high expectations, she would’ve understood the situation.

Boy, were you wrong.

And now, the bus stop-bench is getting warmer the longer you sit on it. You have your feet up on the bench, knees against your chest and locked up by your arms around them.

The only lucky thing about your situation was you changing. Still, your clothes slowly began to soak up the rain.

The rain to you had always been soothing. You would always get excited when it would rain, and would dedicate wet days to sitting on the couch and looking out. The sound of it falling against the porch plants, the smell of it against concrete, even the mere sight of it had you smiling stupidly.

The rain to you was a time to heal, a time to close your eyes and think, a time to be free of the vices in your life.

But now, as the tiny icicles of rain shatter against the street around you, you can now acknowledge the sadness that the weather was famous for.

What the hell am I going to do? You think again, this time as the first tear falls.

Just twenty feet away, the answer walks down the street. He has his head tilted down, as if he trying to keep the rain out of is face, but forgetting that the umbrella above him is already doing a mighty fine job at that.

Yet he moves with outward steps, restless to get home and eat. He’s in the midst of fantasizing about it now: a bowl of tonkotsu ramen placed angelically in his calloused hands, the little bubbles in the broth dancing around each ingredient; the first bite of noddle and pork coming together in a matrimonial way; his nose teases him with a phantom of the savory smell.

But it’s enough to make him look up and check how far away he is, or more encouragingly, how close he is to fulfilling his food fantasizes. And that’s when, under the outdated light of a single street lamp, he sees you.

Ever the subconscious samaritan, his eyebrows sew themselves together tightly and the corners of his mouth dip down. His feet, full of earnest, slow in concern. HIs intentions shift too, from the glowing bowl of food to fixing the gloomy sight ahead of him.

But what if she gets the wrong idea? Asahi remembers the days--though only two years ago--of high school, where even the teachers were sometimes afraid of him, and when every girl saw his pure-hearted smile an evil delinquent’s grin.

No, that was high school, and this is the adult world. He’s respected now, and believed when he says he’s twenty years old.

“What’s up?” (he goes for, finally approaching her. He tries to make it sound void of any scheme, and he’s thankful it comes out as such.)

You turn your head as fast as the raindrops fell from cloud to concrete, and see the man in front of you. It’s hard to clearly distinguish his features in the dim reservoir of light, but what you do make out is his question, and the gentle tone he speaks in.

“I’m waitin’ for the bus,” You say it so casually, as if it is obvious; as if there are clear, sunny skies for miles around. Your chin returns to its comfy spot between your knees.

You aren’t scared of the stranger’s presence. Really, you invite it. Even if the man kidnaps you, at least you would have a roof over your head.

“I don't think the bus is coming anytime soon,” the man then says after a moment. You look up and turn your head left, then right, as if you are just realizing this now. “Where are you headed?”

You shrug your shoulders slowly, dragging out your uncertainty. You really didn’t know where to go. Well, there was one place that you could go to, but it wasn’t in your best interest.

In the corner of your eye a light from an apartment window turns on, and the silhouette of a man appears. You glance up for a quick moment, then back down.

Like standing next to the sun, you can sense his gaze on you, or rather, you can feel his empathy. It radiates from him like a corona (not the virus) and bursts out in thick flares, emitting a warmth that can never burn you and a light that will never blind you.

You sniffle.

Then, there’s a shuffle. The man takes the satchel resting against his hip and tucks it between his legs. You watch as the leather straps barely touches the micro puddle in the street. Your concern for the strap getting wet distracts you from seeing the man take of his jacket, not noticing that he’s done so until it fills the space between you.

“My place is just at the end of this block,” he began again, jerking his head and elbow out in the certain direction. “You’re going to get hypothermia if you stay out here all night,” then he eyes your trembling form, “and believe me, it’s not fun.”

You look down at yourself, and finally notice that yes, you are shivering.

You take the coat and eagerly, without any propriety your dignity has left to offer, and swing the jacket over your drenched body.

It feels like grasping a hot cup of coffee with cold hands, and the jacket even has the same scent. As you zip up the jacket, the coffee runs down your throat, coating your insides with a feeling of absolute pleasure. It feels safe, something that has recently slipped away.

However, this is a new feeling of security, and you like it better than what it was before.

You gaze up at the man--the light finally floods his face--and you begin to say thank you when he says,

“Do you—I mean, I know you don’t know me, but.... would you like...”

You don’t expect to be stifling a laugh that night, but you do, observing his struggle.

“How about we get you out of this rain, okay?��

You know you shouldn’t accept his offer so easily. Everyone knows the classic “Stranger Danger,” and this situation could turn into a prime example. However, there is an element in that look he gave you—a something that said, Trust Me, Everything Will Be Alright.

And so, you nod your head, take the hand he then offers, and walk with him towards his apartment.

#asahi azumane #asahi x reader #haikyuu asahi #asahi x y/n #asahi x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq!! imagines #hq x reader

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stevesbunny · 4 years ago

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Not funny - 1

DARK! series. Do not read if that makes you uncofortable or if you’re under 18! No minors!

(My first series, yay!)

Summary: Steve can’t stay away from Y/M, even thought she made it clear she’s not interested in him. So he takes the matters into his own hands. When he finds out his friends – Sam and Bucky – decided to take his example, he’s delighted until everything goes downhill once they cross paths.

Pairings: dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 2 200 give or take

Warnings for the series: THIS IS A DARK SERIES! It will contain explict non-con, dub-con, manipulation, drug use, violence, death of not so important characters

Warnings for this chapter: kidnapping, drugging

You’ve been warned.

Why is writing so difficult? Why can’t you think of anything even after you’ve been staring at a blank page for three hours?

You took a deep breath and looked out the window. Usually sunny weather made you feel inspired, but today it was different. You haven’t felt the flow of creativity for a long time and you haven’t felt safe for a long time, either. Maybe you should write about that?

Your contract with the publisher foresaw the next part of the romantic saga until the end of this year, but how can you write about love when there hasn’t been anyone in your life for a long time?

You took a deep breath and closed the laptop. You went to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee, naively thinking that it is the lack of caffeine that is responsible for your writer’s block.

You leaned on the island, drinking a hot liquid of the gods and began to wonder why do you actually not feel safe? What has changed in the past three weeks? Why do you always look behind you wherever you’re going, why do you always make sure you closed the door to your apartment at least three times? It’s become a routine, you just didn’t know why.

Suddenly, as if someone from “above” heard your inner monologue, there was a knock on the door. Irritated, you set down your coffee and moved to open the door.

"Hi," there was a muscular blond at your door, his angelic smile looking very punchable. He looked you up and down and frowned, noticing your messy hair and dark circles under your eyes. "Did I come at the wrong time?"

Steve moved into the building exactly three weeks ago. You didn't make friends, although he occasionally tried to initiate a conversation. It always started with an innocent "hello" and, on more than one occasion, it ended with "what are you doing tomorrow evening?" Unfortunately, “tomorrow evening” was always a busy time for you. Any normal person would take the hint, but not Steve.

"Earth to Y/M,” he laughed, bending his knees a little so that he could look into your eyes.

"I'm a bit busy," you pressed your lips in a thin line, scratching your head. "I'm trying to work and- “

You stumbled back when Steve stepped into your apartment, oozing confidence and not giving a single fuck about what you just said. Only then did you notice that all this time his hands were crossed behind his back.

With a heavy sigh, you closed the door and followed him into the living room, where the symbol of your helplessness lay on the table - a closed laptop.

Steve looked around, making sure you couldn't see what he was holding in his hands. Finally, he turned to you with a smile. His attitude was exactly as usual - confident, calm and disturbing. You didn't really know why such a charming and sweet man made you so uneasy. Perhaps because he couldn’t understand that if a woman refuses a date six times, that probably means she’s not interested.

"Do you remember when we talked about this new pastry shop at the corner?" He smiled charmingly, pulling the white box from behind his back.

Of course you remembered this conversation. You were just returning from grocery shopping when Steve offered help. You let him help you with the bags, listening to him telling a story from his childhood about some guy named Bucky, on the way to your apartment. The confectionery already existed in the 1940s, back when Steve wasn’t a mountain of meat and muscle yet. You let your guard down then, saying how delicious the cakes and muffins from the confectionary were. Steve just smiled and made a mental note. You were surprised that he didn’t ask you out on a date that day.

"Uh huh," you nodded, eyeing the box suspiciously.

“They have a new cupcake flavour, raspberry. I got you a few," he moved to hand you the box, but seeing that you weren’t going to move towards him, he nodded and put the box on the coffee table. It looked like it had already been opened and you doubted it was because Steve was checking to see if they got the order right.

"You didn’t have to,” your tone was polite, but the boy must be really dumb if he didn’t notice the stink eye.

"I know," he shrugged. "I hardly ever see you lately, almost as if you completely stopped going out. Everything’s alright?"

He put his hands in his pockets, exaggerated worry on his face. Those damn puppy eyes.

"My publishing house doesn't like anything I write," you didn't know why you opened up to him, but it all spilled out of your mouth almost automatically. You told him about how you sit in front of the computer every day for ten hours and you can't think of anything because your publishing house rejects all your ideas. None of your friends knew about it, because nobody cared about your life that much. Maybe you needed to talk to someone who really listens to you. The only person who was patient enough was Steve Rogers.

While telling him your story, you missed the smirk that appeared on Steve's face for a second. He nodded as he came up to you and put his hand on your shoulder. You had the impression that his warm, huge hand weighed a ton as he clenched his fingers on an exposed piece of your skin.

"I understand you’ve been having a hard time lately, sweetheart," you frowned at the nickname, "but not for long. I promise."

You froze. You didn't even have time to ask what that meant, as Steve left your apartment. When you shook off the absurdity of this situation, you quickly moved to lock the door. You'd rather pull all your teeth out than eat those cupcakes. You grabbed the box that he’d left on the table and threw it into the trash without thinking. You wondered if he was creepy on purpose or maybe he didn't know he was giving off some serious serial killer vibes?

You were going to spend the rest of the evening in the hot bath, but you felt nauseous while cooking dinner. Your vision suddenly became blurry and you felt like your body was floating. At first you ignored it, it happens sometimes. But this time it was different. On the way to the bedroom, you collapsed to the floor, everything around you seemed distorted. You opened your mouth to call for help - there was no way you could crawl to the living room to get your phone. Your heavy breaths only seemed to make everything worse. Everything went black.

How was this possible? You didn't even touch the cupcakes.

✰

Your head felt heavy, your lips were dry and you were still nauseous. You turned your head to the side and opened your eyes. What seemed to be a dizziness turned out to be a moving car. Suddenly your eyes went wide, mouth ajar in a silent scream.

"You’re finally up," you heard a familiar voice and you swallowed hard, "you scared me a little. I checked for your pulse about ten times."

His voice was low and calm. It reminded you of the tone of voice in which the head of the publishing house you are writing for spoke to his employees.

You tried to move, but your body was limp. You knew you weren’t bound. Did he drug you?

But you haven't touched the cupcakes.

You felt the same warm hand on your thigh that not long ago Steve rested comfortably on your shoulder.

"Cupcakes were clean," he said, as if he were reading your mind. And for a moment you even worried he was. You frowned and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and poked your shoulder. You hissed in pain, your hand automatically moves to the spot Steve just touched. Your body went numb, as you realized that the cupcake box was a misdirection.

"Steve... What did you do to me?" You tried to stay calm, but it was difficult when all you could see was a forest and a psychopath clenching his jaw, sitting next to you.

"I'm not stupid," he murmured, his eyes focused on the road, "I know you don't trust me. I knew you wouldn't eat the cupcakes. You refuse everything I offer you. "

He laughed bitterly, his hands tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightened on your lap. You licked your dry lips.

"Steve, I'm not interested in you."

It didn't trigger the reaction you expected. Steve laughed out loud, shaking his head. He looked at you briefly, a dangerous glint in his eye. He reached out to turn the radio down and stopped the car abruptly. He turned towards you, and you moved towards the door, wanting to be as far away from him as possible.

"Sure, I got the hint. You are the one who doesn’t understand," his voice suddenly lower, deeper. You could almost hear the dramatic music, a herd of black crows surrounding the car, signalling your end. Although it could be just your imagination.

You grabbed the door handle, but quickly let go of it when you saw a warning in Steve’s eyes. Even if you managed to get out of the car, he would catch you in no time.

"That you’re a psycho?"

Steve's jaw tightened, as he decided to ignore your question. His hand landed on your thigh again, his fingers clenched so tightly, your skin burning.

"How long has your publishing house been rejecting your ideas, honey?"

You frowned, knowing exactly where this was going.

"Three weeks," you tried to push his hand away, but his fingers tightened even more. You winced, tears glistening in your eyes.

"And you think you ever had a choice? I planned your whole life exactly three weeks ago, " he hissed, "you decide whether it will be painful or pleasant for you."

Seriously, you almost laughed at that. First he asks you if you thought you ever had a choice, and then tells you that you decide how badly you’re screwed. A real gentleman.

"It has been fantastic so far," you choked out. Steve raised an eyebrow, straightening up in the seat.

"I'm glad you still have your sense of humour," he turned up the radio again, turning the engine back on.

None of you said anything until the end of the ride. Steve was busy humming to an old song that was playing on the radio and you were trying to remember the way. All the trees look pretty much the same, so you gave up after three hundred and fifty-seventh spruce tree.

It was dark outside, the sun set an hour ago, and the road seemed endless. Even more spruces later, Steve turned into path leading through the forest. The car rocked on the potholes, and your previous nausea returned. You stopped in front of a small wooden cabin. You would find it cute, if it wasn't for who brought you here.

"Seriously?" You sighed theatrically. "Cabin in the woods? Could you be more predictable?”

Steve gave you a sharp look and got out of the car to open the door on your side.

"Come on," he reached out his hand to you, and you accepted it. You had to hold yourself back not to spit on it, though.

"Okay Hannibal, what's the plan?" You asked leaning on the car. Steve chuckled, rummaging in his pants pockets. He took out three sets of keys and waved them in front of your eyes. Each set had a different colour; blue, red and white. Shocking.

"Since you’re such a fun loving girl, I'll let you draw. Each key opens a different room - "

"You don't say."

"Draw one. Let’s see where you’ll be staying until you learn not to talk back," his blood boiled when he saw you roll your eyes. He'll have to teach you so many things. He knew it wouldn't be easy with your attitude, but he was going to fuck this attitude out of you as soon as he gets to know you better. He may be a psychopath, but he’s still old-fashioned.

"Oh, you know how to keep me entertained," you glanced at the key sets, yawning ostentatiously. "Blue."

Steve grinned, putting the other two sets back in his pocket. Only when you saw his wide, disturbing smile did you realise you were screwed.

"On a scale of 1 to 10, you're fucked, sweetheart."

#dark!steve #dark!steve rogers #dark! steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #dark steve #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers series #dark steve rogers series #dark!steve series #dark!steve rogers series #dark captain america #dark!captain america #steve rogers x you

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rune-writes · 4 years ago

Text

I'll Come Visit

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

@zerith-week » Day 2: Promise

Word Count: 2344

Rating: G

Summary: All Zack ever gave Aerith were promises: promises of a date, to see the sky, and to come visit after he returns from Nibelheim.

Chapter 2 of Of Wishes and Promises: Zerith Week 2021

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

All Zack ever gave Aerith were promises. The first was the promise of a date, the first time he met her when he dropped out of the sky and onto her flowerbed. The second was to show her the sky, because it wasn’t as scary as she thought, and he wanted her to see it. Then he bought her a ribbon and said they should make fun, little promises for when they next met.

“For example, when we meet, you always have to dress in pink.”

Aerith giggled and said that was silly, and it was, but it’d be fun. So she nodded and said okay and wondered what kind of pink dress she had that she could wear.

Then just before he left for Nibelheim, they went to the Sector 6 playground to sell flowers. Operation: Midgar Full of Flowers, Wallet Full of Money seemed to have a good start. The blooms were a big hit. One woman wished she could see them grow all around the slums.

“Yeah, that’s me and Aerith’s dream,” Zack said. “Not just the slums, either. We want to fill the whole of Midgar with flowers!”

Only a dream then, one he hoped would come true once he returned to Midgar, when he could finally take her to the city above and sell flowers under the sky together.

***

Zack sighed at the heavens above as he lay on his back. Thin wisps of cotton-soft clouds drifted past; though, did anyone really know whether clouds were cotton-soft? An age-old imagery that originated from how it looked from the ground, made by people who had too much time on their hands with too little thoughts in their minds.

Zack had too much time on his hands now. With Sephiroth having locked himself in the mansion’s library and still no lead on their investigation, there had been nothing to do but check on the reactor every day. Everything stayed the same. The monsters still slept in their pods, no more reactor malfunctioning, no more signs of Genesis—or any other intruders for that matter.

Cloud would grab any chance he could get to accompany Zack. Probably to escape the town and its people. Probably to be near their ebony-haired guide. He couldn’t blame the guy, and he had no intention to interfere, but sometimes, Zack would look at his stubborn younger friend and wish Cloud would let loose and show them who he really was. Not a SOLDIER, but still a proud member of Shinra’s infantrymen. They’d understand.

When the time came to return to town, he let the two kids go on ahead, saying he wanted to explore more of the mountain. Tifa offered to come with him, but Zack refused. It was still light out. If he’d gotten lost, his SOLDIER pride would be at stake.

Zack had expected a chuckle at the very least, but his guide only stared at him and said, “Okay.” Then she looked at the grunt and nodded her head down the mountain path. “Shall we, then?”

Grunt Cloud jerked, and for a fraction of a second, his wild, panicked eyes met Zack’s through his helmet visor. Zack waited until Tifa had turned and walked away before he slapped Cloud on the back and whispered, “You got this.”

“I got this.” A self-reassuring nod; Cloud gripped his rifle tighter before following Tifa down the mountain. They walked with a little distance between them, but never too far apart. Zack watched, a little grin playing across his lips.

He’d set off in another direction then: a greener, more life-abundant direction; a contrast to the barren, jagged mountain he’d left behind. He’d found the clearing shortly after, with trees on one side and a sheer drop on the other. It overlooked the Nibel plains and the small town below with the clear blue sky stretching far into the horizon.

Fragments of a cloud broke away into little dots, collecting in places that, somehow, reminded him of the yellow blossoms he’d find growing under the shades of a dilapidated church. Thoughts of the blossoms led to thoughts of the flower girl, and Zack couldn’t help but draw another long breath.

It’d been a week since he arrived in Nibelheim, longer still since he last saw Aerith. The closest interaction he'd gotten was the phone call mere days after reaching the mountain village. His PHS had rung when he’d been about to go to the mansion, and it had taken him by surprise when her voice came out of the receiver. But he’d been too busy then, so he’d told her that he’d call later.

“No, no, you don’t have to.” There had been a slight drop to her tone.

He'd pressed his lips together. “Okay, then I’ll come visit.”

“I’ll be here.”

Zack hadn't missed the momentary pause or the wistful sigh, hadn't forgotten her downcast eyes when he told her he would leave Midgar for a job. There had been nothing else he could say but: “I’ll see you, I promise.” He could almost see her smile as he hung up, hoping it had been enough until he returned to her side.

The drifting clouds offered a brief respite from the sun's harsh glare. Summer had long since gone and autumn was well on its way, but Zack still felt hot. Hot and restless and sweaty and wishing he was back under the cover of the church, where a ray of pleasant sunlight slanted in through the broken rooftop right onto her flowerbed. He’d doze on her lap, and Aerith would weave a flower crown to put around his head, and when he opened his eyes, he would see the brightest smile he had ever seen.

Zack reached for his PHS in his pocket. He had half a mind to go to his mails before he realized Aerith didn’t have a PHS. She’d borrowed Tseng’s when she called him before. Zack didn't want to call Tseng. The last time he did, the Turk had chuckled and said that he was at work, that he had one of his men watching her and that she was safe. He would, however, send her Zack’s regards the next time he saw her. Zack's mouth twitched at the memory.

What if he called her house? Elmyra probably wouldn't mind. The last time he met her, she had acted like he was already part of the family. It made him smile and miss her homemade stew, miss the warmth of the kitchen and the vibrant colors in her garden, miss that motherly touch.

But as good as the idea sounded, it was still daylight and Aerith was probably not home. He stared at the open mail draft on his PHS screen, then typed in Kunsel's name.

‘What are you doing?’

The reply came shortly after: ‘If you resorted to mail me in the middle of a mission, I can only imagine how bored you must be feeling right now. So let me tell you some good news, friend. I visited that church your Aerith frequented and I gotta say, she is such a lively fella. You have no idea all the little details she’d asked me of you.’

Zack jumped, glaring into his PHS screen as those last few words hammered their way into his head. He dialed Kunsel’s number. Kunsel immediately picked up.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?”

On the other side of the line, Kunsel cackled—a shoulder-shaking, back-bending, stomach-hurting cackle. “Gods, I can’t believe you fell for that one.”

Zack blinked, too mortified to catch up with the joke.

“I’m on a mission, if you remember—or maybe you don’t. Different from the one when you left for Nibelheim. With our Firsts out on a mission on the other side of the Planet, it seems the top brass has decided to have the rest of us—meaning us, Second-Class—take the lead on the remaining jobs. So I’ve been away, again. Far away from your lovely girl. So you have nothing to worry about.”

Another blink. Right.

“How’s the job anyway?”

A short pause, and maybe it was the easy-going tone of his voice that made Zack's tongue loosen up and tell Kunsel about the current state of his investigation, the current state of Sephiroth, the current state of his restlessness. Then at the end of it, Kunsel chuckled.

“Even in the middle of a mission, you still got time to worry about your girl.” Zack heard a scoff, soft and amused. “She’s fine. Aren’t the Turks watching her?”

“They are…” But even knowing that, there was a disquiet in his heart that he couldn’t quite figure where it was coming from.

“Well, if it’s any help at all, I promised to check up on her, didn’t I? Once I get back from my assignment, I’ll see how she is. Does that ease you?”

It did, even if only a little.

“So just focus on your assignment right now and make sure you get your ass back in Midgar. Quick.” Then he added, “You know I have a whole folder of you sneezing out snot, right?”

“Kuns—!”

The line was cut. The last thing Zack heard was his friend's laughter. It still echoed even when Zack had put his PHS down and stared at the screen, when he laid back on the sunny grass and covered his eyes with an arm. Maybe it was a bad idea to have Kunsel check on Aerith. Who knew what the guy would show her? All the embarrassing details of Zack's life! But Kunsel was the only person Zack could trust in SOLDIER right now…

Zack let out another quiet exhale. He lifted his arm. The clouds drifting past looked uncannily like the girl with the brightest smile.

***

He called a little after dusk. Zack was alone in his room; Sephiroth was still not back; Cloud and the other grunt stood watch somewhere. A few moments passed with only the dial tone filling his ears. And then:

“Hello?”

The smile came unbidden. Like a dam about to burst, his lips wavered at the intensity of the emotions overcoming him—overwhelming him.

“Aerith?”

“Zack?” Her surprise was almost palpable. He could imagine her wide-eyed stare as she stood beneath the warm lights of her home. “This is a surprise. You're not busy?”

“Aw, don’t you miss me?”

She giggled, and it was the most beautiful sound in the entire world. “Silly.”

They talked about everything and anything: what she was doing, how her days had been. "Same old, same old," she said. Tending to her flowers, running errands around the slum, then just as she’d headed for the church, the Leaf House kids had crowded around her and asked where Zack was.

Zack chuckled. “And what’d you tell them?”

“That Zack is on a very important job right now, but he’ll be back very soon and give everyone presents.” Her laugh made him smile, and he imagined her sitting next to the pots and vases, swaying her feet and twirling her hair. He closed his eyes, committing it to memory.

“Hey, Aerith.”

“Yeah?”

When he made that promise to visit, Zack had thought they would finish their mission soon and he'd be back by Aerith's side before she knew it. But it had been a week since then, and he was still stuck in a small mountain town with nothing to do but look for missing persons who refused to be found and wait on a stubborn comrade who refused to leave.

“Think I’d have to take a rain check on that promise. I don’t think I can come back soon.”

“Oh.” She paused. “Okay.” Then, because maybe she’d noticed the hesitancy in his voice: “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing wrong.” He was quick to answer, quick to ease her worry, even as his mind went to the mansion sitting on the town's outskirts, where Sephiroth was still perusing the many thick volumes stored in the basement. The last time Zack had checked on him, he'd been unaware of Zack’s presence. It’d been like talking to a statue, if statues could walk and talk. Ceaseless mutterings; unending strides; then at times, Sephiroth would stop and look up, and Zack would sigh and thought, finally! Because the meal the townspeople had prepared still lay untouched on the table, and all of Zack’s attempts to tell him to rest had flown over his head. But like a man possessed, Sephiroth had only walked past without truly seeing him, then discarded the book in favor of another.

“Zack?”

Zack blinked, then said again, “Nothing’s wrong.” It was less convincing. “Anyway,” he went on, brightening his voice. “Did you really tell the kids I’d bring them presents?”

“Of course,” she said, her voice too chirpy, as though she’d noticed his unease and opted to play along with his act. “Well, you have to give them something , after all their efforts to learn your combat moves. They’re really taking this Protection Squad business seriously, you know.” She giggled, and he chuckled too.

The kids had been hounding him every time he took the trip beneath the plate. What was supposed to be a quality time with Aerith always ended up as sword-fighting lessons with a bunch of children. Not that he minded them. The more time Zack spent with them, the more endearing they all seemed to him.

“Then I’d better get them something really good.” He wondered if the store next door sold souvenirs. He could ask Cloud for advice. Or Tifa. “But don’t tell them yet. It’ll be a surprise.”

He could feel her smile as she said, “Sure thing.” In the distance, he heard Elmyra’s call. Aerith had to hang up. “Do you think we can talk again tomorrow?”

“Of course. I’ll call you. Or you can call me too, if you want.”

“Really? Then maybe I’ll do that.”

Zack’s lips parted into the slightest grin. “I’ll be here.” Another promise. Her goodbye was the last thing he heard before Aerith ended the call.

~ END ~

#zerith #zerithweek #zerithweek2021 #aerith gainsborough #zack fair #final fantasy #final fantasy vii #ff7 #ffvii #ff7r #ff7 crisis core #fanfiction #ff fanfic #ff7 fanfic

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talltalesandbedtimestories · 4 years ago

Text

The Hunter Who Loved Me (Part 2)

Series Page

Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Jack Kline, Dean x OFC

Series Summary: Part Three of Some Sunny Day. Dean’s trying to balance his new relationship with Julie and his need to hunt. How long can he keep it from her? And can Julie keep her curiosity at bay?

Section Word Count: 8100

Section Content: language, fluff, angst, lots of dirty talk, role playing (a little of Dean taking orders and giving them), lots of smut, face riding

“So. Dean. This list. Enjoyment versus Duty.” Tricia lifted up a piece of paper. Dean squinted at his therapist on the screen. She’d printed out his hurried picture snap of the scribblings he’d texted over the other day. “First, I appreciate some of the venn diagramming going on here.”

Dean smiled, as proud as a little kid about to get their artwork slapped to the fridge. “Is there a ‘but’ coming?”

Tricia’s pixie cut spiked up her greys in the haphazard “I don’t give a fuck” style. It was 8am Tricia time, on a Wednesday morning. She sipped from a beer bottle. Salivating like Pavlov’s dog, Dean slid his tongue against the roof of his mouth. It seemed almost sacrilegious to watch her drink alone. But he’d been trying to wait until at least mid-afternoon before any alcohol passed his lips. “Second,” her small, bright blue eyes blinked away the question behind her glasses, “I was expecting you’d ask for more explanation or guidance on the task.” She placed the paper out of view on her desk and studied it for further inspection.

“You clearly don’t know me well enough, Doc.”

“Well, the arrogant part of me thinks I do. You take orders and fulfill them without question, when you agree with their importance and merit.” Her almost unnoticeable, grey eyebrows lifted over the top rim of her glasses. “I thought you’d think this was bullshit.”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe all this psychobabble crap is rubbing off on me.”

“You have your original masterpiece with you so we can reference it together?”

Dean tapped the paper on the coffee table. “Right here.”

“So. It looks like you’ve got the sheet broken down with enjoyment on the left and duty on the right. This first drawing. You have a ‘hunting life’ circle really big on the duty side, and a smaller one, labeled ‘being with family’, right inside it.”

“The whole enjoyment and duty thing going together that we talked about. Is that not right?”

“No right or wrong in this assignment, Dean. Just gives us things to discuss.” She leaned back in her chair a bit. “Hunting became everything for your family?”

“Hunting was my family. I know you know the stories, Doc. Hunter’s have the loosest lips on the planet, amongst themselves.”

“Humor me and pretend I didn’t hunt for decades and don’t know a damn thing.”

He sighed. “Before I was even born. Both parents. Both families. The Winchesters. The Campbells. I didn’t learn about the lineage, the legacy, the responsibility we all had in God’s master plan until much later.” Tricia took a swig from the bottle as she listened. His lips smacked together. Fuck it. It’s five o’clock somewhere. “I need a drink. Keep going. I’ll be right back.” He darted to the fridge.

“So.” Tricia’s voice rose. “Is it safe to say that the duty to your family, all that went along with that, ate away at the enjoyment of them?”

The fridge door swung shut and Dean popped the top off a cold one. He tipped his head back. The much needed liquid flowed down his throat. A large gulp filled his inner ear. “Ah.” There it was. The sweet, temporary relief. “Yeah! I’d say duty sat down at an all you can eat buffet, wearing a large ass fuckin’ bib, and went to town on enjoyment.” He yelled back at the laptop and placed the bottle on his breakfast bar. Flat palms leaned into the counter. He bent back, arms locked and stared at the vinyl kitchen flooring he kept meaning to replace.

“Any enjoyment at all, being with family?”

He sighed, rose up, swiped at the bottle and brought it back with him to the couch. “Yeah, of course.” My head hurts. Fucking finding feelings crap. “Taking care of Sammy’s that one circle in the middle of both columns with a line down the middle.”

“Taking care of him brought you enjoyment along with duty?”

He nodded at the screen with a ‘yeah, obviously, or I wouldn’t have written it down’ expression.

“I find it interesting that you had to title it ‘taking care of Sammy’ instead of say, being a big brother.” Dean leaned back, not knowing what to add to that little bit of insight from Tricia. “So. What filled both of those, enjoyment and duty, when you didn’t have to take care of him anymore? You said it’s been over two years since you and Sam have hunted together.”

“I don’t know. Bounty huntin’, this house, Cas and Jack, the occasional job.”

“But not really anything outside of that? No new territory explored or relationships that didn’t relate to those things? At least, prior to Julie?”

“No. Hung up my adventurous hat.”

“Scales tipped more on the enjoyment or duty end?”

“Before Julie? Duty filled up the days.”

“Explain the last drawing to me.”

Fuck. “Those diagrams. I don’t always see them as connecting, so much as pulling apart.”

“Explain.”

Dean sighed. “You know those magnified videos of cells dividing? Ones we’d have to watch in Sex Ed?”

Tricia nodded. “Cell division after fertilization.”

He focused on the drawing to which Tricia referred. “I’m enjoying her right now.” He looked down at the circle on the left. “But, it’s only a matter of time before hunting, that duty, pulls me away. Or she pulls away because of the hunting. Away from me.” The edges of the equally proportioned Julie and Dean circles barely touched each other between the dividing line.

“So. Can you put Julie in the duty column with you?”

Dean shook his head. “She doesn’t deserve that.”

“But, you do?”

“It’s all I know, Doc.” Dean mumbled.

“Back to Julie and sharing the duty. She might want that. Has nothing to do with deserving.” Tricia spoke, a little softer. The tone reminded him of Mary, when she had to reel in her impatience with her grown-ass sons acting like kids. “We all have duty in life, Dean. Those duties change, shift, evolve. And they can co-exist with enjoyment. You are a hunter. But, you aren’t just a hunter. Just like Julie isn’t just an accounting manager.”

“She goes all in with the duty and she’s in danger. All the time. Even now, being on the edge of it...” He sat up and chugged the beer. “There’s no way this is going to work, me riding this line between in and out. It’s me being selfish. Me wanting something with her is…”

“Human.” Tricia ended. “You won’t know what she can or can’t handle unless you're honest with her.”

“I tell her and it’s over.” He thumbed the opening of the bottle.

“Is that the worst thing that could happen?”

“No. The worst thing would be that she dies.” He nodded, resolute. “Because of me.”

Tricia’s thin lips pursed. The lids shut slowly over her blue eyes, then opened to stare at him. “Dean. I understand that over the past forty years you’ve been given a burden of unimaginable responsibility. Unfair, unwanted, unbelievable responsibility. Understand that simply your existence or being in close proximity to Julie does not make you responsible for every bad thing that could possibly happen to her.”

“I don’t buy that, Doc. That’s a fuckin’ cop out. My decisions make a difference. Actions have consequences.” He heard the resistance in his own voice.

Dean watched her hold in a sigh. “Of course they do. But, it’s the motive behind those actions that define your responsibility for the outcome.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I made a mistake, you know? Getting involved with a… civilian, for lack of a better word. It’s a lot to ask of someone. This life.”

“It is. But, there are lots of couples who are in similar situations. Military spouses, for example. Someone goes off to war, there’s no guarantee they come back. There’s a certain amount of independence and resilience necessary in both partners for those relationships to have any chance of success. Does Julie possess those qualities?”

Dean smiled. “Yeah, I think so.”

“What attracted you to her?”

“Besides her hot little nosey ass?”

Tricia shook her head and smirked. “I’ve got the initial attraction part down. I mean when you interacted. Her personality? Manner?”

Dean reminisced about the first day they met. When he mowed her lawn. When they shared dinner in the backyard. “She was real. Wasn’t putting on an act.”

“You’ve got radar for that stuff?”

“My bullshit meter is very sensitive and highly accurate.” Dean confirmed with an assured nod, then explained further. “She was careful, too. And, considerate.” He chuckled to himself. “She sent me home with some cobbler.”

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

“Would you like to be able to be real with Julie? And, not have to bullshit?”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not…”

Tricia tilted her head. “This dancing around the truth is only going to work for so long. It will exhaust you. Get you more on edge. Understand, I have no doubt you care for her and don’t want to hurt her. But, you can’t expect a strong relationship to be built on a foundation of half-truths. This will damage any chance of being with her long term if you aren’t honest about everything. Soon. So. Do you want to be real with her? Let her really see you? Hear your story? See if she wants you for who you are and can handle the job? Share the responsibility with you?”

The moments ticked by. “Let’s just say, hypothetically, I wanted all those things…” Dean’s gaze flitted over the keyboard. “How do I break it to her?”

The silence was deafening in Dean’s ears as he waited for an answer. “Well, if you want, during our next session, we can brainstorm, act out some scenarios.”

He nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. So. Will we be good for the same time next week?”

“Unless a job comes up.”

“Uh-huh. Well, if that does happen, I’m happy to reschedule and work around a job. Alright?”

She ain’t letting me out that easy. “Yeah, Tricia.”

Hot little librarian is home. Julie shut the driver’s side door of her compact and strolled out from the carport. Her fingers fiddled with her messenger bag strap. A serious look - what she would call her “resting bitch face” - appeared to inspect something on the path. The car beeped like a preschool toy.

Dean caught the moment Julie realized he sat under the enclosed patio in her backyard. A glance in his direction halted her, then produced a wide smile that he couldn’t help but match. She began the walk toward him. He licked his lips in appreciation at the tight pencil skirt and form fitting blazer in a matching purple. She even had a crisp white button up underneath. Damn. Heels replaced her usual flats. Hips swayed. Hair, twisted up in a tight bun, showed off the slope of her neck. When she got within ear shot, he rumbled, “I wouldn’t have let you leave the house if I’d seen that outfit this morning, sweetheart.”

Eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “Do I need your approval for what I wear?”

“Nope. I just wouldn’t have let you leave the house.” He wanted to say more but Wes and Samuel were in their backyard.

Julie got the hint and smiled over to the neighbors, offering a wave, before staring back at Dean. “Had that big presentation today.” She reminded him.

“Ah.” Something about projections and investments. Dean nodded. “How’d it go?”

“Eh.” She scratched the side of her neck. “It’s done. I’m home. And, you’re here.” She noticed the pizza box on the patio table. “A Margherita from Cosimo’s?”

He grinned at how her eyes lit up.

She pointed to her back door. “Why aren’t you inside?”

He shrugged. “Wanted to wait for you out here.” He inventoried her again. “Making me regret that decision. Inside would be much better for what I want to do right now.”

Julie dropped her messenger bag on the concrete and bent down to give him a kiss. There was firm intent behind the pressure of her lips on his. “Give me a slice of that first.” She smiled and slid into the chair beside him, snatching the bottle of iced tea he’d placed nearby.

Dean flipped the box lid open and presented the pie with a flourish.

“Hm.” Julie took in a whiff of the mozzarella, tomato sauce, and basil symphony. Her fingers danced above and over the selection like a conductor, eventually pulling out the slice Dean had eyed for himself. It had a singed bubble of dough and leaned a tad on the wrong side of crispy. She folded it in half and dangled the tip near his mouth. “Share?”

She read his mind in that way she always did when it came to food, satisfying his tummy and his heart. Damnit, Jules. He snatched at the offering with his teeth. Mozzarella threatened to fall off the dough. But he gobbled about a third of it up to prevent any spillage.

She giggled and took her own enjoyment with the half eaten piece, pushing a napkin out from under the box toward him. “Thank you for getting dinner.”

He finished munching before answering. “I had time. Work’s been slow and I was home.”

“I’ve noticed not much on the hunting end.” She smiled. “Wouldn’t be because I’ve been tiring you out this past week?” She licked the sauce off her lips.

He gnawed at his bottom lip, then grabbed another piece for himself. “Might be.” He tore into the slice with abandon. “I may be turning down jobs so I can be home every night.” A wiggle of his eyebrows accompanied his stare that stretched down to her crossed legs. “And, I’m so glad I stayed home tonight.”

Julie shook her head and sipped at her drink.

He cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” He knew the tone in his voice would shift her posture into cautious mode. She sat up straight in her seat. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Thinking’s good.” She took another bite.

He pursed his lips for emphasis before continuing. “Sam. Eileen. They’ve got about a month or so before she pops.”

“Yeah. I’m sure they’re super excited and nervous.” Julie nodded.

“Was thinking, maybe I should go to California and visit for a while.”

He thought he spotted a tinge of sadness as she processed the assumed details. She slumped a fraction. “I think that’s a great idea.” She picked at some cheese. “How long do you think you’ll be gone? With the drive back and forth, and all?”

He spoke, still chewing. “Might buy a plane ticket. You know, cut down on the time away.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you contemplating a cross country flight?”

He grinned and shrugged. “Got a reason or two to wanna come back to Delaware sooner rather than later.”

Julie smiled more to herself, a little pink painting her cheeks.

“Unless…” He inhaled sharp, then exhaled. Do you want to be real with her? “Would you…” He sighed under her stare. “Would you be able to take some time off from work? Go with me? In a couple weeks, maybe?”

Surprise washed over her face. “I’d have to check, submit a leave request right away.” She paused. “Where would we stay?”

“Sam’s always telling me they have a ton of space at their house.”

“Are you sure, Dean?”

He smiled. “Yes, sweetheart. If you want to, I want you along for the ride.” That made her beam back at him. He shook his head. “But, it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

Her mouth tilted, waiting for explanation.

“Me, on a plane.”

She laughed and reached for his hand. “But, it will be entertaining.”

He huffed. “Thanks.”

Her fingers threaded around his. There was a slight change in her expression. “So?”

It was his turn to wait, but he continued to eat. Grabbing another slice with his free hand.

“You like this outfit?” Her voice had lowered, mindful of the outdoor company, but obvious in an attempt to get a literal rise out of him.

He stopped in mid-chew. Swallowed. Almost choked at the laser focus Julie donned behind the lenses. She leaned forward. He wished she had a few more shirt buttons undone. “Yeah.” He squeaked out, not recognizing the voice that emerged from his throat. He tried again, lower. “Yeah.”

“Does it remind you of something in particular?” She smiled, watching him. Her eyes narrowed. “Are you blushing?” She whispered.

He straightened up, shaking his head. Another scoff. “No.” His cheeks were most definitely warming up.

She squeezed his hand. “Come on. Tell. What installment of the Casa Erotica series is playing in that head of yours?”

He thought back to a night, maybe a month back. It was Dean’s turn to pick a movie and he thought he’d be a smartass and pop in a porn flick. Julie had been up to the challenge. So much so that after about ten minutes in, they were having sex on the couch. The background soundtrack and noises from the television had turned it into an exceptionally fun experience. Julie did her damndest to outdo the moans; Dean, the cheesy dialogue. The memory made his lips pop out in a corkscrew grin. Aw, Jules. Would you be jealous of the fact that I’ve slept with Carmelita from Cabana Nights or jealous that you didn’t get the chance to yourself?

“Is it the one that had the CEO Boss Lady of DRILLER?” She leaned back in her seat and broke the grip, thinking hard. “Or the Professor at CUN Tech?”

“Those were all awesome. Certainly could apply.” He licked his lips. “But, no.”

“Not what immediately came to mind. Huh.” She tapped a finger to her cheek. Then, she snapped her fingers. “Librarian?”

Dean felt his eyes go wide.

“Dean.” She whispered. “I haven’t seen you read a book. When’s the last time you were in a library?”

He shrugged, then chuckled. “Couple years back. I’ve been in lots of libraries.”

“Really?” Her mind was working. It was sexy as hell. Dean’s arousal pressed against the now tight denim. A quick gaze to his lap had her eyes pop open. She cleared her throat, then snapped her eyes up to his. “Got any overdue books you need to return?”

Oh, it’s on. “A couple.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re aware, Mr. Winchester...” She adjusted her glasses and held his stare. “There’s a penalty when they’re brought back late.”

His eyebrows rose. “How big of a penalty are we talkin’?”

“Depends on the length.” She smirked. “Of time the books have been checked out.”

“Oh, wow.” He scratched the back of his neck and did his best ‘Aw Shucks’ expression. “I think I’ve had one for two years. It’s, ah, hard… cover.” He shrugged.

Julie stifled a giggle. “Two years? I don’t have any experience with a delinquency THAT LONG overdue.” She shook her head. “Really, Mr. Winchester.” She stood up and grabbed her messenger bag. “I’ll have to go check our files in the back and look up the fine for that.” Acting disappointed, she sighed. “You can meet me in the periodicals section on the second floor in about five minutes. Then we’ll get things squared away.”

He gazed up at her. “I guess I’ll get what’s coming to me.”

She nodded. “Actions have consequences.” The phrase he’d uttered to his therapist earlier that day slapped him in the face. It knocked him out of the daze of the sultry game for some seconds. “Don’t be late this time.” A curt nod punctuated her flirty command.

He watched her ass sway away, even more sass and bounce in those hips than usual. The view centered his focus on the task at hand. Hot damn. I guess we’re really doing this role playing thing. The sliding door closed. He contemplated waiting a minute before going inside. It made sense to stay on her good side, give her time for whatever her dirty little mind was thinking up. In case we can do this again. He closed the pizza box and packed up the other takeout items, cleaned up the space, and headed in to find his sexy librarian.

Dean dropped the food off in the kitchen and put everything where he knew Julie liked things. He checked his watch every ten seconds to give her the five minutes she had requested. Then, he took the stairs up two at a time. His heart sped up and his cock hardened with each step. He gripped the railing and stopped at the top, glancing around the landing. His chest heaved. The office door was closed. Never closed. The quick click to snap his jaw shut held back a moan of gratitude.

A shuffle over to the door, then his knuckles hovered as he contemplated the best knock. Tap, tap. Pause. Tap.

“Come in.”

Dean grinned. He was curious how long she’d be able to play along without cracking. A deep throat clearing on his part was mostly for her enjoyment. He pushed the latch and entered. She waited for him seated at her desk. A swivel of the office chair in his direction gave Dean a good look at her attire. He couldn’t suppress the groan at the slight alterations she’d made to her work outfit.

Julie had switched out her glasses. To the thick black rim glasses she wears at home. Legs crossed. The professional work heels from earlier were replaced with shiny black stilettos. The white shirt under the blazer had been unbuttoned so low that Dean got more than a peek at the white lace bra underneath. His mouth watered. A hunger filled up his belly having little to do with food. “Mr. Winchester. Have a seat, please.” She motioned to the sofa. Both her hands wrapped over one knee cap.

Dean played up the nerves with a hand to his neck. The room was bright from the ceiling fan light. He inhaled. She put on my favorite perfume. She’d pulled the roman shades all the way down. Whatever we’re about to get up to isn’t for the neighbors to see. He walked over and sat as instructed. Elbows rested on his knees. Legs splayed wide apart. He leaned forward. The springs in the sofa bed cushion creaked. “How much trouble am I in, Ma’am?” It took every ounce of his control to not return her slight smirk with a grin.

“Not good news, I’m afraid.” She shook her head. “Turns out that book was extremely valuable. I found a note from the head curator in the catalogue database with strict orders. We’ve been asked to release information to the police about the person that returns it.”

Shit. She’s doing a whole backstory and everything. My busty little bookworm. Dean raised his hands in slight defense. “Oh, woah, wait a minute. That’s a little extreme, isn’t it?”

A shoulder raised. She uncrossed her legs and swiped at the fabric over her thighs. “I’m afraid my hands are tied, Mr. Winchester.” She had to throw that out there. Hands tied. He didn’t know how much more his cock could take.

He did his best Sam impression. Wide, puppy dog eyes begged. “There has to be another way. Some other penalty or… punishment.” Her eyes lit up at that word. Dean swallowed. “Please, Ma’am. I’ll do anything.”

One of Julie’s eyebrows quirked up. “Excuse me for being so forward, Mr. Winchester. But, you don’t appear to adhere to the simplest of rules. It’s almost as if you like misbehaving.” She straightened in the seat and popped the two buttons of her blazer free. A slow strip peeled the jacket from her shoulders and arms. There was precision and care taken to rest it on the chair back. She turned back, focused on his reaction, her knees locked together. “Do you like being punished?”

Woah. This is definitely new. Dean licked his lips. “I-I guess.”

“Well, then… maybe we can find some way for you to atone for this egregious error.” Mischief lined her lips before she bit the bottom one. Her fingers went to work on the buttons of her blouse next.

His nostrils flared at the sight of her bare skin when she turned to place the shirt with the same care on the chair back. He wanted to run his fingers up the dip of her spine. The creamy lace caged those breasts he wanted to squeeze and lick. “I’ll do anything.” He repeated, groaning. The act was long gone.

“Will you?” He could see the sweet struggle on her face to stay in character. In control. Her hands fanned across the frilly fabric of the bra cups. Nails, coated in wine colored polish, scratched at the lace. The nipples, already pebbling and popping through the flimsy material, hardened further at her touch. Those big brown eyes closed and her chest arched forward.

“Damn, Jules.” He swallowed.

“Want to touch me?” Her eyes opened and returned to his gaze.

“You fucking have to ask?” He grumbled, burning with want.

“Hands and knees.” She smiled, sure and in charge now. She’d won the battle. Her eyes did not break from his. “Crawl for it.”

He smirked. “Want me begging for it, huh?”

The speed of her breath quickened and she gasped, continuing to play with her nipples. “Yes, Mr. Winchester.”

“Alright, Ma’am.” He slinked onto the area rug with a soft pounce, bent arms settling onto his palms. He contracted his fingers, getting a grip of the material, before his knees followed. The surprise and excitement on her face at his action was worth the theatrics. He surveyed and stalked her like a lion. The pace towards her was slow and steady. His gaze never left hers.

Dean angled his head to watch her reaction as he approached. Her hands were squeezing the bra cups now. She bit her bottom lip. Dean halted as her legs parted. The skirt rode up her creamy thighs. Her ass scooted towards the edge of the chair. He got an amazing view of what awaited him.

“No panties, sweetheart.” A low growl left his throat. He rocked back and rose up, sitting on the heels of his sneakers. His hand reached out to touch her thigh.

“No hands.” She whimpered. “Nothing but that mouth and tongue on me.”

He grinned. “That’s my punishment?”

She stilled. “You’re right. That would be too good for you.”

Dean wanted to slap himself. Should have kept my goddamn mouth shut.

Julie’s nails clawed at her thighs, slow and purposeful. Light pink trails skirted over the flesh. She shifted on the seat, pulled the skirt up past those hips to bunch at her waist. She straddled the edge of the seat with a wide stance, her legs bent at perfect ninety degrees.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, you know that right?” Dean shook his head.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” She shot back. “But, thank you.” The palm of her right hand cupped her pussy. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes.” Dean nodded. She pulled her hand back, let him watch while one finger tested the waters between her folds. “Oh, I so want that.” He added.

“How do you want it?” Her middle finger dipped inside. “Nice and slow?” She slipped a second digit into the mix. “Fast and loose?”

“What do you want right now, Jules?” He shook his head, licked his lips, and clenched the denim covering his thighs. “Whatever you want, baby.”

The blush broke the act. There she is. A gasp left her mouth. “Really?”

Dean arched his brows. “Of course.”

Her lips rubbed together. “Lie on your back?” She stared at him, hard, then let the request escape her mouth. “I want to ride your face.”

Shit. How long has she been keeping that on reserve? He flopped onto his back, and onto the rug, like a dog playing dead. He tapped his chest. “I’ve died and gone to heaven. Get up here, sweetheart.”

His focus was on the ceiling fan above him, whirring as fast as his X-rated thoughts. Her giggle filled his ears. “Why do you have to be so addictive?”

He shrugged. “Could ask the same thing about you? But, I’m all about this mid-life sexcapade. I mean, any moment, you could go running for the hills.” Her frame was above him in a second, by his side. She was a disheveled, sexy, hot fucking mess. His tongue clicked. “May I suggest you take off the skirt?” His hand drifted up the back of her bare leg, from ankle to calf, resting on the back of a knee. “But keep the heels and bra on. Please.” Rug fibers rubbed into the back of his head as he tilted. “For now, at least.”

She nodded. The side zipper released. Fabric puddled and bunched atop his forearm, trapping her movement. He stared at all of her from his vantage. A deep breath steadied him. He slid his hand out from under the skirt. Both hands locked behind his head, cradling it.

“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.” He smiled.

She stepped out of the skirt and swished it away. Her soft tummy and hips jiggled. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I guaran-fucking-tee there’s no way you can disappoint me.” Dean chuckled. He sighed when she stepped over him, heels twisting into the rug. “Such a pretty view.”

The rush and embarrassment of being pantiless for Dean’s inspection from a very new angle flooded through Julie’s veins. Her whole body was on fire. He was relaxed now, leaning back onto the rug like it was a towel on a sandy beach. He was content now, staring up at her with brilliant bright green eyes. “Such a pretty view.”

“Pointers?” She shrugged.

“Well,” his palms unclasped from behind his head and latched onto the ankles caging him on either side. “You aren’t going to sit as much as hover. A throw pillow from the sofa will help get me into a better position.” He smirked. “And those pretty thighs need to get up by my head. Pronto.” A throat clearing followed. “You can face forward or do a reverse cowgirl up here.” His eyebrows wiggled.

Julie bit her lip.

“What are you thinking about it?” Dean asked. “Now’s not the time to be thinking.”

“It’s just… I want to, but…”

His bottom lip sucked back into his mouth. The tip of his tongue peeked out for an agonizing, tantalizing second. He was grazing over her figure from down below. “You know, I’m really enjoying this, Jules. How could I not? If that’s what you’re worried about. Don’t. And, you get to continue this little dominant dance you started. Fucking hot as hell. You’re in charge.”

She sighed.

“You’re good at it. Giving orders. It’s fun to switch roles every now and then. Come on.” His ass squirmed into the rug now and he smiled. “Break in this bronco.”

“I give orders everywhere else, Dean.” She pulled out of his cuffed palms and took a couple steps to grab a tiny pillow for his head. He ‘oofed’ and chuckled when she tossed it onto his face. “I know I’m good at it. But, I like it when you take the lead.” She melted onto the floor and sat by his head, leaning into the front of the sofa. The back of her high heels curled against bare ass cheeks.

He cocked his head around to stare up at her once he got comfy on the pillow. She teased at the strands of his hair. “I know you do, sweetheart.” His voice lowered further. “Honest? In this moment?”

Oh. He’s using it against me now.

“The thought of your business being all up in my face, with you on top… kind of makes you feel totally exposed, right?” He asked, reaching for her. The warmth of his hand caressed a thigh.

“Yeah.”

“You got to switch that thought process. It’s all up to you. I’m just a means to get you to an end.” A throaty groan slipped out of his perfect pout. “And, I fucking love that idea. With you especially, baby. I wanna give you that control. Let me let go of it. The need to be in charge for a while.” The final three words came out in a soft beg. His eyes narrowed. “Ride me, sweetheart.”

His voice made her core clench, like always. She was slick, ready. “Sounds like an order.” A massive grin threatened to emerge but she fought it back. “I’m surprised I can still walk after the week I’ve had with you. Now, I have to ride you.”

He didn’t hold back the cheesy, ear to ear grin. “Oh, yeah. It’s gonna tire you out. But, I promise, you’ll love it.” Julie lifted up onto her knees and shuffled closer. He stared back at her, upside down, arching his eyebrows. “Oh, so it’s reverse cowgirl, huh?” He hummed in satisfaction.

Julie frowned, realizing an important fact with this particular position. “I don’t get to watch that pretty face of yours.”

Forearms disappeared behind her. Those huge biceps flexed and stretched the fabric of his grey and white flannel. His palms patted the back of her thighs, trying to edge her forward. “Trust me, baby.” He tilted his chin up. “We can do it all sorts of ways. Next time.”

She nodded and held her breath, luxuriating in the fact that she knew there would be a next time. So many next times. The anxiousness crept in again. But, she situated herself above his face.

The groan of delight from him was one she had heard countless times. “Fuck.” He whispered. She clenched again. “Absolutely nothing to be blushing about from where I’m at.”

The bulge straining against his jeans became somewhat of a needed distraction and fortified her courage. God help me. This man is ruining me in the best way imaginable. Her knees wedged under the comfy material covering those hunky shoulders. The seam and soft give of the pillow rested against her calves. Her gaze dipped down, tracked his head tunnelling between her thighs. She lost sight of his eyes and nose and top lip.

His mouth dropped open to speak. “Get down here, sweetheart.” He urged. She quivered at the hot breath hitting her pussy. “You can lean on me. Remember, I’m here to be used. If you get a little carried away and I can’t breathe, I’ll tap out.” He chuckled and shot more heat up to her core. A few light kisses covered her inner thigh. “You do whatever feels good. No shame in your game.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Shut up.” Her palms splayed atop his shirt covering his pecs. Those perky little nipples pressed into her skin. His chest was strong and supportive; the view of his supine body was quite spectacular. Even if he had way too many layers on. One bow leg shifted as he planted a sneaker against the base of her filing cabinet to steady himself. Arms locked, she guided herself down and closed her eyes.

It was the scruff of his chin that connected first. A gasp left her mouth. He’d maneuvered a bit, could feel him searching with his lips. He glided all over her wet and swelling flesh. Fingers had sunk into the plush of her ass cheeks. He found her entrance with his mouth. Then, he moaned. It rumbled into her pussy. He played her body like an expert musician. The tip of his tongue circled her hole.

“Shit!” She pushed into his stiffening muscle as it swirled and offered itself. Her arms provided leverage to move up and down over that face. “You should be against the law, you know that?” She whimpered.

That arrogant chuckle emitted from his throat, vibrating inside. The sounds were glorious as she rode him. Hesitancy faded. Curiosity emboldened her. She rocked her hips back and forth. His tongue flattened and he stilled, static, so she could lead and swipe her most sensitive spots over him. He snuck in a suck here and there at her clit when her arching became more pronounced.

“Oh, God. Dean.” Moans toppled one after the other as he clamped down on her ass and spread her cheeks open. His strength held her in place. He worked her over with every part of his face. His chin, his lips, his mouth, his nose, his tongue. A fleeting thought entered her mind that even his cheekbones and eyebrows had found a way to fuck her senseless.

Dean gasped for air under her. “Please, baby.” He moaned.

She froze, every inch of her ached, but she worried she was actually hurting him. “Can you not breathe?”

“No. No. I’m good. You’re so fucking good.” He praised her. “I just, wanna…” His fingers had continued to massage her ass. One digit slid closer to her back hole.

Julie gasped. Her body hopped in shock at the realization of what he was requesting.

“Only if you wanna see how it feels.” He kissed her folds. “Can just circle it. Or use my mouth.”

She sighed at his words. “Maybe just your finger. Outside.”

He moaned. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He feasted on her pussy once he’d been given permission.

Julie’s eyes bolted open wide at the new sensations. The pad of his finger circled her rim, testing her give and resistance. She couldn’t help but buckle under the pressure and pleasure he was providing her everywhere.

“Dean…” she groaned. “I’m gonna cum.”

He nodded, not stopping any of it, humming into her pussy.

“Yes, Dean. Oh, God.” She cried out, her body tensing with the impending orgasm. A wave of light and levity crashed into all her senses. His moans, his touch, they all felt far away for the briefest of seconds. Then, it all slammed her back. Cells, every one of them, super sensitive, on edge, as he continued to lick and tease her when she came down from the high.

“Fuck.” An obscene slurp followed his exclamation, still under her slackening body. “I gotta be inside you, baby. Can you handle that?”

She sighed. “Of course I can.”

He chuckled and eased out from under her like he’d been working on Baby’s undercarriage. His whole face glistened with her, tinted red with exertion. “That’s my girl.” He heaved and took in a deep breath.

She fell back on her ass, her whole body a quivering mass. He groaned and sat up, stripped off his flannel, then his t-shirt. Her fingers reached out to touch his skin. “But can you take the lead this time?”

He grinned. “Of course I can.” His head cocked to the side. “But, I don’t want to be any kind of gentle.”

Holy shit. He’s looking at me like I’m dinner. Even more than before we started this whole damn game. “Okay.”

“You sure?” He rose up and pulled her along. Her feet wobbled in the heels. “I mean, it could get a little rough.” His fingers sunk into the base of her scalp and her hair. He pulled her head back with a jolt, tipping her chin up. Her breath hiccupped. “Like that.” He sucked at her bottom lip. “You okay with that?”

“Yes.” She was dazzled by the green and intensity of his eyes. She licked her lip and tasted herself. He was thick with the smell of the excitement and ecstasy he’d pulled out of her.

He turned and looked over his shoulder. He grabbed her by the waist and twirled her toward the desk. She clamped onto his forearms. The office chair rolled away, loud and careless, slamming into the closet door due to his forceful push. “Hope your shit’s insured.” He rotated her again in those massive arms, determined. His mouth latched onto her neck. His chest pressed into her back. She heard his belt unbuckling. The leather swished from the loops and thudded onto the rug. “Cause you’re getting good and fucked on this desk.” His voice thundered against her skin.

“Dean.” Her head fell back into the crook of his neck.

“Okay.” He sighed. His denim covered thigh wedged between her trembling ones and soaked pussy. He edged her to the corner of the desk where she’d normally sit. His hands shot out around her frame, grabbed at the computer monitor, and brought it back down to rest parallel to one of the walls. His hands returned to her thighs, raked up her skin and back. “Safety in the workplace, right?” The confinement of her bra released with the unclasping by his dexterous fingers. He slipped her out of the straps and cups, grasped her breasts. Fingers tugged at her nipples. Then he smashed her whole body back into him. His head bent to her ear, intoxicating with the sound of his voice and warmth from his mouth. “Let’s get to work. Bend over, sweetheart.”

“Jesus.”

He chuckled and used the firm grip on her breasts to bend her to his will. “Whatever feels better for you once I go to town, you do. Okay?”

She nodded and rested on her elbows, waiting. There was some shuffling again. His zipper. Out of the corner of her eye she noted he wasn’t even bothering to take his jeans completely off. The waistband of his denim and grey boxer briefs wrapped tight around his muscled thighs, spread wide.

“I already know how good and used up you're going to feel around my cock.” The tip brushed against her folds from behind. They moaned in unison. “And, still nice and wet for me.” A hand clamped onto one of her shoulders. She felt the pull back; groaned at the slide of him inside. He bottomed out. “Shit. This is gonna be hard and quick.” He inhaled and exhaled. “Sure you’re ready, baby?”

She knew what she was asking for when she gave him the flippant response. “Don’t I feel ready, hot stuff?”

His hands clamped onto her waist. “Alrighty, then.” A few “Ughs” and “Fucks” and “Shits” flew out of Dean’s mouth as he began to pound. He slid her back and forth over his cock, her ass smacking into his groin, balls rocking into her cheeks with his fast thrusts.

He used one hand to encourage her shoulders into the desk surface, her breasts flattening into the cool wood. She tilted her face and leaned her cheek on a hand for support, moaning at how the slight shift had arched her up into more pleasure. She was going to get a desk burn, if that was possible.

“Damn, Julie. You gotta wear these heels more often.” He grunted out the suggestion. “Gets you in just the right position.”

Everything on the desk was teetering and jostling with every one of his thrusts.

“So fucking lucky.” She caught the mumble fall out of his mouth. He swore again. “Aw, fuck. Yes. Close, baby.”

His admission made her pussy clench.

“Shit. Yeah.” She felt the tension in his body mount. He sped up into her. “Gotta, need to… feel so fucking good.” He pounded in all the way one more time and she felt him go rigid, his fingers sink into the flesh of her ass. Dean let out a soft gasp, connected into her like a jackhammer with one final thrust, and let go, spilling inside. He toppled over, sandwiching her between his body and the desk. His cheek rested on her back. Deep breaths matched hers. His heart beat pulsed against her skin. “Damn.” He finally spoke. A kiss planted along her spine. “Are you alright?”

She nodded into her hand. “So alright.” She smiled. “But, it’s official. I can no longer walk.”

He groaned and pulled out. “Shit. We made a mess of everything.” She could hear him slide his jeans back up.

Her body peeled off the desk surface, sticky with sweat. “Dean, I’m serious. I don’t think my legs work.” She giggled.

Without warning, his arms swooped her up and he carried her to the sofa. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He plopped onto a cushion and settled her on his lap, scooping every naked inch of her into his embrace. “Better?” His lips caressed her mouth.

Her forehead found his. “You make everything better.”

He pulled back. There was worry on his face. “I might not always be able to make everything better, Jules.”

How can he be so sure of himself one second and unwilling to take a compliment the next? “You’re right. Too much pressure.” She tried to ease the tension. “You make it better right now.”

That made him smile. His hand stroked her cheek. “You know, I’m going to have to go back to work. It’s not like I’m getting paid to be your sex slave.”

She frowned. “I feed you.”

He laughed. “I bought the pizza.”

She leaned on his shoulder. “I feed you most nights.”

“True.” He reclined back onto the sofa, taking her with him. “Will you be alright if I check in and see if I can grab a skip tomorrow? There was word of something in upstate PA. Might have me out of town for a day or two.”

“Honestly,” she giggled, “I could probably use the break.”

“Well, now, I’m just hurt.” He scoffed. “You could try and act a little upset.”

She snuggled. “Of course I’ll miss you.” She tapped his chest. “Don’t forget. Mom is having us over her house for lunch on Sunday. So, whatever you do, wrap it up before then.”

“See what I mean about how good you are at giving orders?” The sarcasm evident in his voice.

“Hm.” A forceful grab at his chin met his eyes to hers. “Kiss me.”

Dean grinned into the liplock. His words spilled into her mouth in between the tangle of their tongues. “Only a matter of time before I get on your nerves and you want nothing to do with me.”

“You get on my nerves now.” She smirked, tasting his salt and sweat and her sex again. “And, I still want everything to do with you. Glutton for punishment, I guess.”

“Guess we deserve each other, then.” He leaned back and ran a hand down her chest. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”

She nodded. “Starving.”

He hopped off the sofa and grabbed his flannel off the floor to toss it to her. “I’ll bring up the pizza box.”

She slipped into the warmth of his shirt, bringing her knees to her chest. “You’re bringing up that greasy thing?” Her eyes narrowed in half-jest.

Outstretched arms reminded her of the current condition of the room. “Might as well take advantage of the mess before we clean it up. Hey, I’m not taking it into the bedroom.” He put up a hand before she could protest again. “Remember, you don’t get to be all up in this for the next couple days.” He smirked and then did a flourish of his hand from head to toe.

She shook her head. “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

His bare chest flexed as he buttoned his jeans up. “So cute when you give orders.” He slapped the door sill and disappeared.

Julie situated her compacted frame in the corner of the sofa, buttoned up the oversized shirt. Her toes dug into the cushion. A pull of the shade cord gave her a view of the backyard. The sky was pink and darkening by the minute. How long have we been up here? So easy to lose track of everything else when I’m with him.

Her body was pulsing. Every part he’d touched, entered, hypersensitive. Thank God I’ve got my gyno visit tomorrow. She blushed at the thought of having to explain to her doctor that she and Dean had gotten a little carried away over the past week.

She had fallen into a rabbit hole of lust. How could I not? More worrisome? She was trusting him more and more. The safety with him was something she craved. What if I fuck it up? A pang in her gut. What if he fucks it up?

“Jules?” His voice drifted up the stairwell. “You win. I’ll bring up a few slices on a tray. Gonna heat ‘em up. Be up in ten. But, you’ve gotta clean up the office.”

She smiled and called back down. “Aren’t we bossy? Deal, Dean.”

Part 3

Series Page

#dean x ofc #spnfanficpond #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut #spn fanfics

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britesparc · 4 years ago

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Weekend Top Ten #455

Top Ten Comedy Sidekicks

Ha, LOL, ROFL, guffaw, snort. Comedy, eh? You’ve got to love it, unless you somehow fall through a timewarp into a late-seventies working men’s club in Blackburn and you find yourself choking to death on second-hand smoke, mother-in-law jokes, and a simmering undercurrent of racist violence. Good times!

Anyway, it’s fairly common that even in the most serious of narratives and with the most serious of protagonists, we need a little chuckle very now and again (nobody tell Zack Snyder – actually, no, scratch that, somebody definitely tell Zack Snyder). It lightens the load, makes the world more nuanced and realistic, and even makes the truly dark moments stand out all the stronger. Most films have a bit of a joke every once in a while (and, of course, Shakespeare’s tragedies are full of comic characters or bits of business), and one very common trope is the Comedy Sidekick.

What is a Comedy Sidekick? Well, it’s a supporting character who offers comic relief, basically. sometimes this can be obviously discernible – Luis in Ant-Man, for example, may function as a plot engine from time to time, but has little in the way of actual character development and is mostly there to be funny whilst the heroes do hero stuff. Sometimes it’s harder to define; I mean, are either of the Blues Brothers a comedy sidekick? Arguably Jake is the lead and Elwood is a bit more of a “turn” (he’s almost eternally deadpan and unemotional), but I’d never say one was inherently funnier or “straighter” than the other. And the you get onto films like Aladdin: sure, Aladdin himself is obviously the protagonist, and there’s an argument to be made that the Genie is a comic relief supporting character, but I feel in this case he’s far too integral to the plot, played by a significantly more famous actor, and really just dominates the film to the extent that he becomes the de facto lead (see also: Captain Jack Sparrow). Again, in Men in Black, Will Smith’s J is clearly the “funny” one, but Smith is also the bigger star and the audience entry point; plus, Tommy Lee Jones is hilarious as the deadpan K. So it’s not as simple as it may first appear.

Anyway, the ten in this list are ones I define as definitely being supporting characters. They may be big characters, in terms of plot or development, but they’re definitely there in support of another protagonist. And whilst they may be fully-rounded characters with their own arcs, their primary function is to be funny; they’re the ones who deliver the comedy lines back to the main character, or crack a joke at the end of a serious bit.

Right, I think that’s my usual ridiculous caveats out of the way. Now let’s make ‘em laugh.

Baldrick (Tony Robinson, Blackadder series, 1983-99): Baldrick is one of the supreme comic idiots in all of fiction. Serving as a perfect foil to Blackadder, he is not only supremely stupid but also his niceness and naiveté serves to undercut his master’s wickedness; plus his idiocy is often the undoing of Blackadder’s villainous plans. But he is also charmingly fully-rounded, oblivious to his own stupidity, possessed of “cunning plans”, and with a great love of turnips. A phenomenal turn from Robinson.

Sir John Falstaff (various plays by William Shakespeare, from 1597): is it cheating to include as significant and iconic a literary figure as Falstaff? Feels a bit like it, especially as he's practically a lead (and, indeed, becomes one in Merry Wives). But really he’s the archetype: a supremely vain and self-serving comic foil, but one with vast hidden depths as he’s keenly aware of his own frailties and the inevitable end of his good times with Prince Hal.

Father Dougal McGuire (Ardal O’Hanlon, Father Ted 1995-98): in many ways he’s a slightly watered-down version of Baldrick’s comic idiot; but Dougal is, if anything, even stupider, and less self-aware. He’s like a perfect idiot, a beautiful naïve fool, a supreme man-child with his Masters of the Universe duvet. And he’s divine, just incredibly hilarious throughout; and, like Baldrick, serves as the perfect foil for his more duplicitous and cynical elder.

Donkey (Eddie Murphy, Shrek, 2001): animated sidekicks are very often the comic relief, and I’d argue that Murphy’s Donkey is as good as they come. I actually think Murphy’s prior turn as Mushu in Mulan is probably the better character, but Donkey is just a comic force of nature, a creature who exists only to make everything dafter and funnier. It allowed Murphy a chance to go all-out in a way he hadn’t on screen for quite some time, and it was something we’d rarely seen in animation (arguably only Robin Williams’ Genie is in the same ballpark). Plus, he actually is a good friend to Shrek, bringing out his better nature. Well done, Eddie!

Danny Butterman (Nick Frost, Hot Fuzz, 2007): another of those characters who really skirts the edges of “supporting comic relief” and is really a deuteragonist. But I feel like most of Frost’s characters in his partnerships with Simon Pegg are, essentially, supportive; Pegg is almost always the lead. In this film, despite Danny having some great development and functioning almost as a romantic partner for Pegg’s Nick Angel, he’s usually presented as a beautiful comic foil, his folksy, slobby demeanour contrasting perfectly with Angel’s straitlaced professionalism. And – for the second film in a row – he gets a tremendous C-bomb.

Luis (Michael Peña, Ant-Man, 2015): another comic fool, Luis is the silly, charming, endearing, loveable thorn in the side of Paul Rudd’s Scott Lang. He’s daft, yeah, and comes across as a bit dim, but his permanently-smiling demeanour means we just keep on loving him, even when we can see how annoying he would be. but what cements his position is his rapid-fire OTT explanations, and how the movie presents them; pieces of comedic joy in the MCU.

Cosmo Brown (Donald O’Connor, Singin’ in the Rain, 1952): Singin’ is one of those great Golden Age movies full of witty dialogue (as well as great songs, natch), and by its nature Gene Kelly is the lead and therefore straight man, whereas O’Connor’s Cosmo can be wackier and funnier, and in doing so get to the truth of what his friend is feeling. But what really gets him in this list is his performance of “Make ‘Em Laugh”, running up walls like he’s in The Matrix or something, and feeling like a Bugs Bunny cartoon brought to life.

Silent Bob (Kevin Smith, View Askiewniverse, from 1994): I guess you could argue that both Bob and his less-silent colleague Jay are, as a twosome, the comedy sidekicks in whichever films they’re in (apart from the two they headline, I guess); but if you take the pair on their own, I’d say Bob is the comic of the duo. Yeah, it’s Jay who’s the mile-a-minute loudmouth, cracking jokes and being explosively filthy. But who really gets the laughs? For my money it’s Smith’s perfectly-judged expressions, punctuating the pomposity or reinforcing the eccentricity of whatever Jay’s on about. And then every now and again he gets to speak, and delivers a great one-liner (“no ticket!”) or serious, heartfelt monologue (cf. Chasing Amy).

Semmi (Arsenio Hall, Coming to America, 1988): Semmi is supposed to be a loyal and devoted servant to Prince Akeem, and he is, I guess; but he’s also a true friend. Akeem’s quest to find love in New York is genuine, and despite the film’s high joke quantity, Eddie Murphy has to be relatively restrained in his lead role. Hall’s Semmi, on the other hand, gets to be acerbic, throwing shade and barbs at his lord, questing their quest and seeking his own share of wealth and, well, women. And we all love his line “you sweat from a baboon’s balls”.

Dory (Ellen DeGeneres, Finding Nemo, 2003): as discussed above, comedy cartoon sidekicks are a cinematic staple. They’re not often female, however, and even more rare is a female character who gets to be both funnier and seemingly dumber/goofier than the lead. Of course, Dory is full of pathos, a borderline tragic character whose chronic memory loss has a dreadful impact on her day-to-day life. It’s her sunny optimism (“just keep swimming!”) that makes her endearing more than her humour, however; and, of course, it’s this optimism that begins to chip away at Marlin’s (Albert Brooks’) flinty suit of armour. Funny, warm, makes our hero a better person, but can be a little bit sad – perfect comedy sidekick.

There are two that I’m annoyed that I couldn’t fit in so I'll mention them here: Carrie Fisher in When Harry Met Sally and Danny Kaye in White Christmas. In the former case, whilst Fisher’s Marie is hilarious throughout, and definitely comic relief when put alongside the relatively straight Sally, the fact that everyone, really, gets a lot of funny lines in what is a consistently funny film kinda knocked her down the rankings a little bit, even though I feel bad about it, because everything is always better if Carrie FIsher is in it, including these lists. Kaye’s Phil Davis in White Christmas absolutely steals that film from Bing Crosby, with fast-paced witty wordplay and some supreme physical comedy, and the running gag about how he saved the life of Crosby’s Bob Wallace is golden. But, I dunno, he just kept slipping down the list, despite being my favourite thing in that film. Sorry, Danny.

#top ten #comedy sidekicks #comedy #foil #comic relief #father dougal #shrek #donkey #falstaff #baldrick #blackadder #pixar #coming 2 america #silent bob #kevin smith

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youhadme-at-hella · 5 years ago

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I'd thought I'd tell a little story during this quarantine, one that people might relate to, especially black women and girls.

I remember the exact moment in my life where I began to feel self-conscious about my body.

I was in 3rd grade, standing in line in the cafeteria, next to my crush, who at the moment was shorter than me. He pointed to my arms, told me they were hairy.

And I didn't really think much of it at time, I probably laughed it off and attempted to change the subject, but here we are, over a decade later, and I still look at my arms and think about how abnormal they are.

I started to develop at an early age - by 4th grade, I needed trainers because my chest "caused a disturbance" for some.

In 5th grade however, that was truly the turning point. Aware of my hairy arms, my developing body, I was standing in line (again with the lines), going into the classroom for the morning, and I was not only taller, I was bigger. All the children surrounding me were visibly smaller. My mind started spinning in that moment. That's all I could think about.

The teacher was at the front of the classroom, and I was looking around, wondering if any of these kids had started shopping in the juniors section already.

I know there were many factors at this point that were weighing on me, but of course at the time I didn't know what that could be. I didn't know that every time I turned on the Disney Channel and aspired to be a Disney Channel star that I was using the actors on this platform as the example I'd set for myself. I didn't know that the fashion magazines in the check-out lines encouraging me to "lose fat fast" was impacting me as I tagged along with my pops to the grocery store. Some might say "societal pressures" but I know better to characterize it as colonial pressures. Not being able to afford the latest trends, not being able to be white with bone straight hair and that photographic thigh gap.

Entering middle school was an entirely different type of hell. My economic situation became more pronounced to me. My dad's girlfriend at the time (not to put him on blast) had offered me some hand-me downs, which I was really excited about because I thought she had style.

One day at her house, she was giving me the clothes to try on, and one article of clothing after the other wasn't fitting. I was absolutely mortified. This was an adult, albeit a "petite" adult, but that didn't matter to me. My understanding was the grown ups were older, therefore they were bigger (not the best logic, I know now). I broke down in her bathroom. I said things about my body that I had never uttered before. I may have thought about saying those things, but I finally made them real.

She tried to console me as best she could, but there was nothing she could do. I was leaving her house empty handed. That was the greatest reminder.

Clearly all of this did nothing for my self-esteem. Horrible things happened in my mind. I started equating my importance and worth to the amount of attention that boys would give me. I became incredibly fixated on my look, in a really unhealthy way, worried about how I appeared to others 24/7. I would cry sometimes in the bathroom if I couldn't get my hair just right. I would avoid eating lunch in the cafeteria because that meant people would stare as I walked up to the line or threw away my trash. I traveled in crowds to blend in, so no one could point me out. My whole personality was based on feeling "pretty" and starving for people to like me. Because the moment that wasn't the case, I absolutely fell apart.

7th grade was a bad year. I hated school and most places where I was required to be in public. I started having panic attacks, anxiety attacks, sometimes in the bathroom at school. I think I lost a lot of friends because I went into a shell. My family experienced more obvious economic hardships, my uncle was taken to prison, interrupting our entire family dynamic. All of these played roles.

I was very good at hiding a lot of this though. I was a cheerleader, I mostly tried to display a sunny disposition to avoid being questioned. And I'm not saying there weren't things I enjoyed about life. My family was (is) incredible, my core friends made me laugh, I loved cheerleading, in fact, I would get so lost in it. I was the happiest when all I was doing was training, hanging with cheer mates, it was the best distraction. But at this point my life took an extremely dark turn.

In 7th grade I started to starve myself. There was no other way to describe what was wrong with me other than depression. I wasn't even familiar with the concept, but that's what it was. I was so distraught, not just by my appearance, but with everything happening in my life. I ate as little as possible, most of the time just to entertain my parents, who had noticed a significant change in my behavior. I didn't see that I was losing weight. I couldn't see the changes happening to my body. My brain still saw this person at a size I despised, so I continued to torture myself. It wasn't until about three months later, standing in the lobby of McDonald's with my mom, that my charade was over. She turned to me to ask what I'd be having, and I told her I wasn't hungry.

She looked at me sternly and spoke so only I could hear. "Why aren't you eating?" I shrugged my shoulders, "I'm just not that hungry." "I see you. You haven't been eating and now you look sick. You need to eat."

I wanted to break down in the lobby, but I didn't want noses prying into our discussion, so I ordered, picked at my food, then hid bits and pieces inside the wrappers in which they were packaged.

I knew it was wrong of me, but my mom telling me that I was in fact losing weight, made me feel good about myself for the first time in a while.

I got through my first battle with depression and tried to become more positive. When 8th grade came, I vowed that things would be different for me. I started to invest more in fashion, immersing myself with coordinating quirky fun looks on a budget. I didn't realize then that this had all become a coping mechanism.

In my new outfits that I'd put together, I began to feel more confident, like myself, happy with me. It was a much better year by far and these feelings lasted up until about 10th grade.

I had just switched to a majority white school. So my out of the box fashion choices with respect to my developing curves was quickly shot down by the laid back, by the beach Hollister shorts, flip flops and tee.

I was surrounded by girls my age that we tinier than me, once again. I remember these really cute pair of shorts I had designed myself. They were once high rise jeans that I cut up to hot pants, giving it a bit of fringe and sewing some fabric behind the parts that I'd deliberately distressed. I loved these shorts partly because I had designed them myself.

One day I wore them to school and these white girls who sat behind me snickered and whispered, "she is way too big to wear those shorts."

I threw them away when I got home, staring in the garbage bin, fighting everything in me to not retrieve them.

And I started to look at my body intensely again. Fashion was no longer a safe haven because it was now being used as a weapon against me. I had nothing to hide behind. My insecurities would be forced to take center stage in my brain again.

I hated the way I looked, every year I would look at photos from the previous year and say, "man I wish I could go back to that size" not realizing at that time that I hated who I was then too.

This is a long story but I promise I'm getting to the point.

This is hard for me to say, but at this point in my life, I'm the biggest I've ever been. I've done fad diets, tried all kinds of workout regimens, weight fluctuating over the years, to no avail. I eventually grew demoralized, feeling like no matter how hard I try, I lack the patience and discipline to reach my fitness goals.

But it's taken all of this time for me to realize this struggle hasn't been about my health and fitness goals. Up to now I've only had aspirations to "look good to attract positive attention", and I've carried on up to now not being able to look at myself and love what I see at any point of my young life.

I can't recall a time I looked at myself and said, "I'm beautiful, I'm worth it, I love the person that I am, I am happy with what I've accomplished, I am a good person." All this time I've repeatedly called myself all of those things I did that day in the bathroom of by dad's ex-girlfriend. And many more insults that I've learned over the years.

No matter the positive or negative changes my body has gone through, I haven't been able to see them. So to that extent, my goals are impossible to reach. I've never been satisfied with myself, ever.

So what now?

This struggle isn't rooted merely in some superficial beauty standards. How did these standards even get here? And why have I tried all my life to reach them? That question is far more easier to answer.

I just long for the day that I look at myself and say, "I accept you for who you are" just as I have done for others. I long for the day that I can consider my reflection beautiful, just because I think so, and not because of anyone else. I don't know when that day will come. There are moments when things are good, I feel like I'm almost there, only to be crushed by my unresolved reality of dangerously low self-esteem.

This isn't something I wrote for an outpouring of sympathy, a bunch of "you're beautiful just the way you are"'s. It won't make a difference. It's not the antidote. I wrote this because I know there are black women and girls like me, still trying to answer this question, heartbroken by their own reflection.

I will say this, though. I was inspired to write this because today I completed day eleven of a fourteen day workout challenge. For some that's no big deal, for others it won't count until all fourteen days are completed. But for me, it's a huge accomplishment. I have never in my life worked out consecutively for this amount of time. I know it's not long, but for someone who is not physically active or athletic, this is a huge step. I'm doing this thing at my own pace, even though I'm still not quite sure I'm doing it for the right reasons.

I know I'm not, but I'm partly hoping that at some point it will click for me, and I'll work out beyond the fourteen days, because I should have more to live for than just the opinions of others.

Stay tuned.

#long post #mental health #body image #depression tw #anxiety tw #panic tw #mental illness tw #mental illness #black women #black women mental health #black girls #quarantine #body positivity

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pseudofaux · 5 years ago

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Beaming {MLQC}

Happy birthday, @saizoswifey ! I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your kindness and strength, I think your example makes it easier for others to be kind and strong too. I know they do for me, anyway! You’re so generous in and out of fandom, and every time I see your wit I’m delighted that it lives in you with a heart as good as the one you’ve got. YOU ARE FANTASTIC! (づ￣ ³￣)づ Here’s some sunny Kiro for you. Happy, happy birthday, my friend!

(Full story here in this post, but it’s also over on Ao3 if that’s better for your eyes.)

Since their relationship became intimate, he has made it abundantly clear that he loves her naked. Today, though, he is entranced by her bralette of stretchy cotton. It’s not something she considers particularly sexy, just a light, comfortable scrap of function for a day with a scorching forecast. When she dressed that morning, she had no idea she would even see him, and even if she had known he was back in the city, she would never in a million years have guessed at his plans.

His don’t-stand-out getup worked too well: she didn’t notice him as she left the train station. A hat with a brim, reflective sunglasses, and a paper mask over his mouth, just like those worn by so many other young commuters swarming the pavement, why would she pay him any mind? If he hadn’t whispered her name as she touched her arm, she might have screamed. He told her he had the morning free and so did she, if she wanted it.

Of course she did, but she was on her way to work. When she reluctantly insisted she really had to go, he encouraged her to check her email before she made a final call on the day. There were brand new messages from Anna and Willow waiting for her: This backstage footage is amazing, how the hell did you get it?! We’ll work on this today! See you tomorrow!

His smile could not be hidden by the mask or sunglasses, and the smugness in it... well, it seemed like he had earned it. So she nodded, delighted by the prospect of time with him. Their morning was full of city errands and elevator rides: up to the roof of the highest building in the business district for a brunch just for them, down into the basement of another building for him to retrieve a duffel bag from a locker in a poorly-lit hallway. All the while, he held her hand. In every conspicuously empty elevator, he held that hand by her head as he leaned her against the wall and made intimate promises between soft, soft kisses.

If she had known there was even a chance they could see each other that day, she would have worn something sexier. In the living area of the ridiculous hotel suite he’s brought her to, her dress is gone and he is cupping her through the bralette. He thumbs her nipples in the same daze she has seen on him when he touches a new guitar. She lets him.

“Do you work out in this?” he asks quietly. She smiles and shakes her head. His spell is broken when his eyes flash up to hers. Sin and sun are in his grin when he asks “Do you want to?”

She wants to as much as she wanted to go with him at the train station, and there is no work to make her hesitate. After all the elevator kisses and the pleasure of his company through the morning, she was eager for somewhere private like this, where she can match his playfulness. So she lets her tongue wet her grin, and she nods. There are promising ottomans and low tables throughout the ultra-chic space, but they fuck on one of the rugs first. Soft, unprocessed fibers of a fur she doesn’t recognize catch her back, then her sensitive front when he begs her to get on her elbows and knees. There’s a stretched moment of need-- they know these moments, because they have to be apart so often-- when they realign before he slides back inside her and they gasp. She knows he is proud of his physique and he should be, the strength of his abdominal muscles keep him so steady as he leans to cover her back with his front. His voice is not as steady as he whispers how hot and good she feels, how much he has been missing her, how being with her is so much better than thinking of her every time he touches himself.

But he stops, suddenly. “Bed,” he says, his hands going tight on her waist to keep her from pushing back at him. “Please-- hey! C’mon, I need to see you.” His words are openly ragged and the need in him makes her squeeze around him as he pulls out. His desire for her is satisfying enough to soothe her own itch of greed for him. For a few moments more, at least.

He touches her side and holds out his hand to help her stand up. Naked and gentlemanly: national superstar Kiiiirooo~, she thinks as she gets to her feet. It makes her giggle. “What’s funny?” he asks, and his face is so flustered and cute and he looks so hot standing ther without a stitch on, that she is tempted to let him in on the joke headline. Instead she shakes her head and dashes toward what she hopes is the bedroom. He follows with a happy “Miss Chips!”, and when she lets him catch her beside the room’s massive bed, he tickles her. It is their favorite form of revenge and they are both in great moods so his tickles are tiny caresses, fingertips drumming at her sides until her ass presses into the softness of the mattress edge. He gets a good grip on her waist despite her wiggling, and lifts her to sit on the bed. She reaches to unhook her bra, but he makes a wounded little sound and sure enough, when she looks at him he is giving her the hopeful eyes. So she holds her hands away with a smile, and he beams back at her before lunging onto the bed, tackling her and tangling their legs. At some point he drags the duvet over them and they are cocooned in their own world. He is laughing against her skin, and the sound is light itself: colors blown out by sunlight, blue gone yellow gone white into brilliance beyond what her eyes can show her. As Kiro catches his breath, the warmth of his exhalations on her shoulder create a thrill of affection in her, familiar affection for someone who might, to rights, really be out of her reach... But just then he squeezes her. Their arms are around each other, and he is there in the posh hotel bed with her, acting randy and making them giggle. When there is quiet, he asks, “Would you like some outside light? The windows are special glass.” His body is over hers and he is rubbing his cheek against her face. So close, the smell of his hair products, like spiced green apples, is an obvious and delicious perfume. She plays with it instead of answering. He is really a lean, golden god that the sun begs to love. She loves him already. “Yes,” she says finally. She can feel him getting hard again. He slides the tip of his cock against her thigh, then her slit... and when she pushes up at him, he moves up just a little more to poke against her tummy. She narrows her eyes and calls him a name. Kiro grins at all of it and ducks his hips a bit so he is pressing more insistently, right below her belly button. “Let the light in already!” she scolds. She turns her head to nip at his forearm and it makes him freeze-- except for the throb she feels against her stomach, so strong it is almost a smack. Serves him right. He nudges her face back up and sucks on her bottom lip as he reaches up to the headboard. Over the rustling of the crisp white pillowcase beside her ears, she hears something click, and then the floor to ceiling windows hum. Her eyes are closed while he kisses her, but she can tell the glass is losing its opacity until it is letting in the kind of clear, steady light she has only seen from airplane windows. She loves the strangeness of midday sun. Usually would be in an office right now, sacrificing her access to the light, but Kiro is making it glow on her, as gentle as his kisses. She knows he likes being beneath her best, so she is not surprised when he sits back up and pulls at her legs until she sits up, too. “C’mere?” he says softly. She sets herself on top of his lap, enjoy the strength of his erection between their bodies. “This is so sexy,” he tells her, pulling the strap of the bralette and letting it relax against the front of her shoulder. The pressure feels good, even better when he strokes down the line of the strap. His face is thoughtful, and he touches her with his whole hand, like she is a cat. “This, in this light... it’s like I’m seeing the you that no one else sees,” he adds. She can’t speak for a moment. When she can trust her throat, she tells him “You are seeing the me no one else sees.” It can be difficult to predict what will send him into one of his serious moods, but apparently agreeing with him is it for today, because his eyes go darker and his lips part. She can see his tongue and she wants it, wants him, so she leans forward, sweet to him as he has been to her. While they are kissing, he laces their fingers together and settles their hands at her hips. With gentle pushes and pulls, he encourages her to rock in his lap. “I think this is sexy,” she whispers as she grinds on him. Her thigh muscles flex and the mastery in the feeling puts a thrum of power in her blood that she lives for, especially with him. She could do this all day, and for Kiro, she’d do anything. He huffs out a laugh so close to her mouth she can’t see his grin, but she can hear that he is beaming. “You’re right,” he says, kissing the side of her smile. He runs his nose along her jaw until he gets to her ear. “This is the sexiest thing that has ever happened. Ever.” Without letting go of her hands, he tickles her again. She bucks to avoid his fingertips, and tries to tighten her fingers around his and keep him away. He’s laughing with her, yet again. He likes happy sex, she knows this, and she knows he absolutely gets off on making her happy.

“You want me?” he asks, serious. It’s hopelessly true that she wants him a lot, but he’s so fun to tease she says “...a little.” Her answer actually makes him shudder, and it is very pleasing, to know those trembles are trustworthy. It’s a heady thing, to reduce a man so powerful and widely loved to depend on her. He asks quietly if she will be on top and she shushes him, because of course she will. She puts an arm over his shoulder for balance she she resettles her knees beside his ass. All their rolling around has put his back toward the windows, so when a few clouds suddenly move away from their work softening the sunshine, the light hits his shoulders and it is like seeing the halo of a classical painting made real. She tucks the beautiful image into her memory as she takes him in hand and strokes him. He’s plenty hard, but she likes the feel of him. “Thank you for the unexpected day off,” she says sweetly, and she holds him in place until the head of his cock is snug inside her. Then she comes down onto him slowly enough to appreciate every little tilt of his hips and every almost-whine coming out of his mouth. She keeps her own hips shy of his body until Kiro is moaning for her. He hisses and palms her ass, but doesn’t pull. He does say “Please. You’re welcome, please, c’mon--” So she flexes her pussy around him as she slides the last little way down, and when he throws his head back and groans, she kisses his adam’s apple and feels the pleasure coming out of his throat. “I missed you,” she whispers, when he has stopped and she knows he can hear her. “Take care of me.” He does.

#saizoswifey finna make a girl propose #HHHHHHHHHHHBD bb!#mlqc fanfic #mlqc smut #mlqc kiro

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joonsrack · 5 years ago

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+PAIRING: Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon

+GENRE: SFW, slow burn, ficlet (do people use that term anymore?) mini series, it’s not exactly fluff but it’s soft i guess.

+THE ONE WHERE SEOKJIN IS A PART TIME COP AND A FULL TIME NAMJOONSITTER SERIES: Part I | Part II | Part III

+WORD COUNT: ~3k

+SUMMARY:

“You know hyung, that’s why even though you've got that face, you're still single; you can’t see a good opportunity even when it moves next door.”

“Excuse me?” Seokjin says, feeling pretty insulted. He chose to be single, single didn’t chose him.

+WARNINGS: Very brief mention of sexual harassment, abuse of italics.

Awkward is not strong enough a word to describe how meeting Namjoon in their building is.

How do you even act around your attractive new next door neighbour on which you pulled a gun on your first meeting? Jimin is laughing forever, the asshole.

Plus, Jimin keeps telling him he needs to take him out, to 'apologize', but the fucker has already guilt tripped a ride in the police cruiser out of him (without the lights, thank you very much), what more is he supposed to do?

“You know hyung, that’s why even though you've got that face, you're still single; you can’t see a good opportunity even when it moves next door.”

“Excuse me?” Seokjin says, feeling pretty insulted. He chose to be single, single didn’t chose him.

“Oh come on, you’re life’s prime example that a good face doesn’t equate having game.” Jimin says, and finds himself two second away from needing a new best friend and roof.

“I don’t know how you came to the conclusion that I had any interest for Namjoon—”

“Hyung, you wrote his name instead of yours on your last report.”

“I was distracted.”

“You downloaded all of their songs even though you despise rap songs.”

“My taste can evolve!”

“You looked him up on facebook and instagram without following or sending a friend request.”

“I—” he starts, but pauses.

Yeah, that last one made it pretty obvious.

A god given opportunity presents itself, and even Seokjin can admit this must be faith. Or fatality. He’s hoping it’s the first one.

He’s coming back home, arms loaded with groceries, and almost turns around and tuck tails once he catches sight of a tall shadow standing in the hallway. He freezes when he hears the tell tale sound of metal snapping,

followed by a low groan that will haunt his dreams forever. He sneaks a look over his shoulder to catch Kim Namjoon, head in his hands, looking… very blond. And despondent. But blond, hi. Gone is the dark silver, his hair bleached almost white.

Seokjin takes a deep calming breath, hoping this will not go as badly as he knows it will. It’s not like it can go worse than their first meeting, so he can at least find joy in that.

“Hello there,” he says, taking slow steps towards the man.

Namjoon takes one look at him, then looks away, avoiding his eyes as red blossoms on his cheeks.

“Before you pull out your gun; as we have already established, I live here, so this is not me trying to break in.”

Ouch.

Seokjin chuckles to cover up the fact that he just got served.

As he gets closer, he spies something in Namjoon’s hand, and; yep, that’s half a key. He could bet his handsome face that the second half is stuck in the lock.

“Looks like you’ll have to call someone for that one.” Seokjin says, approaching the man carefully like he’s a wounded animal. He definitely looks like he’s about to snap.

He’s dressed in all black, and Seokjin is not in uniform, so he indulges in a quick once over while the man is looking at anything but him. Black leather jacket, black jeans, black boots, making his new hair colour stand out even more. The bad boy look is strong with this one, although the knowledge he could probably spill a sippy cup ruins the image a bit.

“You could… call a locksmith and then wait for them at my place, with a cup of tea.” Seokjin tries, and let it be known that he’s got game; Park Jimin can go to hell.

Namjoon looks at him again, this time with a self deprecating smile on his face that breaks Seokjin’s heart in a thousand pieces. There’s dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t had a good night of sleep in a few days.

“If you hold your stuff dear, you better leave me outside.” He says, taking out his cellphone and sending a quick text to someone.

Seokjin makes a quick inventory of every object and furniture currently in his living room, but can’t think of anything that would warrant leaving the blond man sitting duck in the hallway.

“If you just sit nice and tight on the couch, I’m sure I can find a plastic cup somewhere that you can’t break.”

Namjoon looks around, like he’s searching for a reason to say no, but his phone pings then, and he peeks at the incoming text.

“Shit.” He says. “Locksmith can’t make it for at least two hours. And I'm already late. Damnit.”

Seokjin decides to ignore the fact that Namjoon is on texting basis with his locksmith, balancing his groceries in one hand and unlocking the door with his other. He holds the door open, looking expectantly at Namjoon until the man takes the hint and steps hesitantly in his direction.

“Hope you’re insured.” Are his last words before he sets foot in Seokjin’s home.

He takes off his jacket —and who the hell wears a leather jacket in summer—and puts it on a hook, but the hook doesn’t hold and both fall to the ground.

Seokjin is very impressed; a very short second has yet to pass and the destruction has already begun.

“It was loose anyway.” he hurries to say at Namjoon’s blank expression. He grabs the jacket after putting the groceries away on the table and puts it on the back of a chair, then waits until Namjoon steps out of his usual black boots to lead him to the couch.

“It’s an interesting choice, black boots in summer.” He says, to break the silence and awkwardness.

“Steel toe” is the only answer he gets, and it actually makes a lot of sense. It also seems to be a sore subject, so he doesn’t ask about the leather jacket.

With Namjoon looking extremely stiff on his couch, like he’s trying to keep every muscle still, Jin leaves for a moment to put away the groceries and to try and find what he needs to make an accident-prone-person’s cup of tea. Well aware the man is most definitely not immune to spills, he ends up finding an old reusable ice tea Starbucks cup, needing a few minutes to locate the matching straw. He pours their drinks on ice and serves both of them an iced tea.

It’s summer, after all.

He drops the drink on the low table only to look up and realizes his guest is… fast asleep. His head is reclined against the back of the couch, his mouth hanging slack and emitting soft snores. The rest of his body looks locked tight even in his slumber, his hands stuck to his thighs with his legs straight. He looks like he’s used to sleeping without moving a muscle, which just mustn’t be nice. After looking at Namjoon’s sleeping form long enough to effectively feel like a creeper (the loose neck line of his t-shirt exposing a tantalizing amount of collarbone), he finds a small fleece blanket, his AC making the insides of his apartment pleasantly fresh but dangerous for uncovered throats.

As softly and quietly as he can, he covers Namjoon’s whole upper body with the blanket, only leaving his head poking out.

He looks proudly at his work after taking a step back, but the stupid smile on his face disappears once he realizes he just babied a grown ass man who he barely knows. Namjoon will probably think this is weird, right?

He’s tempted to take back the blanket to preserves his dignity, but risking the man waking up as he’s ripping it off him is not a position he wants to find himself in.

He settles for sitting on the other side of the couch, sipping at his glass quietly, trying to stop his eyes from wandering to the man’s sleeping form and failing pretty badly.

In the end, his glass empty and discarded on the coffee table, Namjoon’s even breathing ends up making his own lids feel heavy. It’s his first day off in a while, and the first few hours of it have been spent running around the city, so before he knows it, he’s joining the other man in dreamland.

“There’s a hot young man doing things to your neighbour’s door knob that will star in my wet dreams for and undetermined futu— Hyung, What the hell.” Is what Seokjin’s wakes up to.

He’s laying on his side, head pillowed on a nice and comfy surface that is sadly tensing up by the second, and that’s how Seokjin knows he will never be able to look at Namjoon in the eyes again.

He dares to crack an eye, and once he confirms his very pillowed head on Namjoon’s very thighs, he takes back everything he earlier thought.

How naive it was of him to believe he couldn’t do worse than their first meeting.

He uses every single muscle in his body to roll off the couch as fast as possible, his fight or flight response deeming it the quickest way to get off Namjoon’s lap. His body connect to the floor with a heavy thud, but not before knocking the coffee table hard enough to make Namjoon’s untouched drink inevitably topple off. His spill-proof solution proves itself insufficient as the lids pops open and the chilled tea explodes all over his chest, soaking his whole torso.

Wearing his thin and light pink summer shirt had seemed like such a good idea that morning, the sunny and clear sky promising a beautiful day. Now, as the fabric clings to his chest leaving nothing to the imagination, he curses the day he ever bought it.

As he lays still on the floor, cold liquid dripping off him and on the carpet, he takes a moment to regret every single decisions that lead him to this very moment. At the top of that list is of course, listening to Jimin’s advice. One day, he’ll take the time to think about how funny it is that every bad things that happened in his life can be linked back to that particular man.

Meanwhile, Taehyung is still staring from the and Namjoon is still perfecting his imitation of a statue on the couch.

Seokjin can’t see his face from his position on the floor, until the man reclines forward to look over the edge of the couch and down at him.

“First, abuse of firearm, and now sexual harassment? You've been a very exemplary police officer these past few weeks, Kim Seokjin-ssi.” He says, the only hint that he’s joking the small smirk stretching his lips. Seokjin covers his face in shame. “It’s always a relief to see that some people can embarrass themselves as much as me.”

Seokjin feels a warm hand on his forearm pulling it away from his face. He lets himself be pulled off the floor, Namjoon standing up with him as he helps him up.

“Hyung, cover your damn tiddies for Christ sake.”

“Shut up Taehyung.” Seokjin says, crossing his arms in front of his chest, feeling a faint blush dust his cheeks. “What are you even doing here?”. Namjoon, like a true gentleman, offers the blanket to him without a word.

“Dad told me mom told him Jimin told her you had a crush on your new-“ Taehyung doesn’t have the time to finish his sentence as Seokjin pounces on him, hands covering his mouth to shut him up, knowing very well where this story is leading. “Taehyung,” He says with an edge to his voice and a glint in his eyes, “-meet my neighbour, Kim Namjoon. He moved in a few weeks ago.” Realization crosses his brother’s features, and he looks apologetic for all of two second before he pushes the hands off his mouth. “So you might know who’s that delicious piece of man currently greasing up your knob?”

Namjoon looks a bit dumbfounded before he answers, uncertain. “Probably my locksmith? I wouldn’t use those exact words to describe his profession, though.” He shrugs.

“Would you happen to know his name? Current relationship status? Sexual orientation? Better yet, favourite colour? ” His younger brother says, hope blooming in his eyes.

“Huh.” Namjoon’s phone rings, saving him from the onslaught of questions. He checks who it is before answering, and a smile blooms on his face, his dimples hitting Seokjin straight in the guts.

“Hey! How's my baby?”

Seokjin’s heart stops and shatters at his feet; His baby.

He doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation, too busy spiralling down into self pity. Of course someone as attractive as Namjoon wouldn’t be single. Of course. He feels so stupid.

The phone call doesn’t last long, ending on a quick “see you in a few”, but it’s long enough for Seokjin to have sweared off love altogether and made a vow of celibacy, with very nice plans of moving to a desert island. He'll have so many cats.

“Soo, baby huh.” He says, barely containing the distaste in his voice. If Namjoon notices, he doesn’t show. He gives them both a shy smile, and Seokjin has had enough with this man. “Well, run along now, we wouldn’t want to hold you back too long, in case your baby gets impatient.”

Namjoon looks at him weirdly then, just catching on the tone of his voice. Nevertheless, he chuckles the awkwardness away before answering. “She’s kind of a diva I guess. And she always needs new stuff, quite the expensive girl that one.” Taehyung turns pitying eyes towards him.

Namjoon got himself a gold digger. He doesn’t even look like he has money.

“But she's the best ride there is.” Namjoon says, and Seokjin holds back a gag. T.M. goddamn. I. There’s a part of him that’s ready to cancel Namjoon for his apparent fuck boy personality. There’s also another part, one that is deeply buried inside of him, that gets a twisted sense of satisfaction from knowing that if that’s how Namjoon talks about the girl, she mustn’t be all that special to him. He’s a cop though, and an outspoken feminist, so he shuts that part up, ready himself for a nice lecture on respecting women and how to do it.

Taehyung beats him to it.

“That’s a very misogynist way to put it, mr. neighbour.”

“What?” Namjoon, says, looking confused. “How is it... misogynist to say I like to ride my bike?”

The word bike reverberate in the silence of the living room, Taehyung exchanging a look with Seokjin as the both of them realize the misunderstanding, leaving Namjoon looking nonplussed.

“Bike, as in motorcycle?” His brother asks.

Namjoon looks between the two of them, slowly putting the pieces together.

“Yes? What did you think I was talking about.... ah. Yeah, i guess that can be confusing.”

Seokjin’s relief is short lived; It only takes a few second for the meaning of it all to sink in; the sexy fucker is also a sexy biker, how is Seokjin supposed to get any sleep at night now?

The leather jacket in summer makes so much more sense.

Seokjin’s mouth feels dry for reasons he can very much explain. “Isn’t that a bit… dicey, though?” He doesn’t say for someone like you, but it hangs in the air, and Namjoon seems to hear it loud and clear.

He smirks like someone who’s used to this exact reaction.

“There’s two things I’ve never broken in this world; Music equipments and vehicles.”

Seokjin nods calmly to cover up the fact that his inside are a mess. Figures Hearts aren’t on that list.

“Alright, I need to go talk to my locksmith.” Taehyung’s eyes lights up again. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” He finishes, nodding in his direction, a shy smile on his face.

“Anytime.” Seokjin says faintly, still processing everything. “And I’m sorry for, you know, the whole falling asleep on you.” His blush must be covering him all over by now. He might never got back to his normal colour. He tries to laugh the embarrassment away, but all it does is make his crush look even more obvious.

Namjoon looks at him then, the cogs clearly turning in his head. Once he seems to finally have reached a conclusion, his expression twist into something different. Something that looks suspiciously... flirtatious?

“Don’t worry about it. Having a lap full of handsome has never been a problem for me.”

Let it be known Seokjin has rarely been rendered speechless. For a second he thinks he just hallucinated it, but then Namjoon unmistakably winks at him.

Seokjin’s mind goes blank. Where did the shy guy from before go?

“You know where to find me if you ever want a ride. I kind of owe you one.” He adds before leaving, closing the door behind himself.

Seokjin is too stunned to make a noise, so it’s Taehyung who breaks the silence.

“I aspire to have that level of game.”

Seokjin agrees.

Fin 1.1

Namjoon has already left to pick up his motorcycle from the auto shop, trusting Jungkook to lock up behind himself. After all, they’ve bonded over Namjoon’s difficulties with locks for the last few years, and can now be considered good friends.

He’s pretty much done, gathering his tools before leaving.

Somebody comes out of an apartment next door as he’s packing up. He doesn’t pay it any attention until the person clears their throat for a solid fifteen second. Turning around curiously, he catches sight of a particularly pretty man, probably around his age, locking up very loudly. He wouldn’t give it more attention if the young man wasn’t looking right at him with a weird smile. He’s locking the door with fervour, never breaking eye contact while he clearly struggles, and a particular hard twist even succeeds in making Jungkook wince.

When the inevitable happens and the key snaps under the pressure, the man lets out the fakest sound of despair Jungkook has ever heard, maintaining eye contact and looking like the cat that got the canary.

“Oh!~ What am I to do!~ I don’t know any locksmith...”

Jungkook has a feeling he should, perhaps, run.

He doesn’t.

Fin 1.2

#magicshopnet #bangtanarmynet #armysource #ficswithluv #bts fanfic #namjin #mxm #bangtanscenery

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angelfire115 · 5 years ago

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The One who fell

It was a normal day, the sun was shining, the birds were singing. On days like these, people like Alice, should be out in the sunshine. She wasn't much for society, just a a girl starting a new life. She started her first job in a few days, had an apartment and a loving cat named Cheeky. Her parents had prepared her for this day since she was 15 and she was so excited for it as well.

She left her home and walked herself to the stores, it may have been sunny but it was slightly windy too, which made walking a breeze (pun intended). On her way she passed some very unexpected and sketchy people. They all wore black cloaks and held strange items, for example, one of them had a staff with a skull on the end. She decided to ignore them and not judge their way of clothing, everyone was different after all.

As she made it to the stores and open the door, she was greeted by cool air con and an old man who stood behind the counter, saying his hellos and giving her a wave. She resipicated the kind gesture and moved to the items of the store. She grabbed, milk, eggs, chocolate bars, some chips and some meat and veggies for dinner. Once she was done, she made her way out, paying her items and saying goodbye as she went outside, back into the hot sun.

She looked to the sky, squinting her eyes from the light. She was happy and content with everything but she had a feeling deep in her gut that it would make it better if something exciting happened. When she walked back she noticed the suspicious party was gone. She did wonder what they were up to but the thought left her pretty quickly. It wasn't any of her business,although, if she saw them again, she would kindly ask, she was curious after all.

As she passed the spot where she saw them, a sudden scream came from behind a building. It caught her attention and she decided to inspect. She rounded a corner, pulling out her phone just in case she needed to call the police. Behind the building were assortments of items that looked like the ones those people were carrying. And in the middle of it was a drawing of a pentagram. Alice: "What is this? What were they doing?".

She walked forward to see more closer to the drawings and items. A sudden clang of noise and voices were heard from behind her. She turned and backed away, scared it was the group, scared what they could do to her. As she backed away stepping onto the drawing, it lit up like a spot light, blinding her. Forcing her to drop her phone. A sudden burst off flames came up from the drawing engulfing her.

She thought this was the end, the end for her. But as quickly as that thought came, she noticed the flames didn't burn her, they didnt hurt one bit. She felt like she was being carried quickly down, down, down, down into the earth. She thought she'd reach the other side of the earth at this point. Out of the blue, the flames stopped and instead she was falling. As she fell and screamed, she saw a city under her. A city of bright lights and busy streets.

Her attention was caught away as she noticed the floor becoming more and more closer to her. Was this the end then? Death from falling? She closed her eyes tightly, waiting for her fate. She landed flat on the ground but even from an enormous height, she only felt like she fell from a tree or a sort high place, not from like a twenty roomed high building. As she got up, bruised and battered but otherwise alright state, she looked around, wondering where she was.

She was in some dark alleyway, no one was around, she walked around trying to clear her thoughts and tried to forget the pain she was in. She saw the end of the alleyway and made her way there, she peeked her head around the corner, she heard voices. When she looked, she had a huge shock. She saw the people talking but, they weren't human, they looked like creatures and mixtures of animals and more. They talked and walked and acted like normal people but they looked beyond human. She quickly threw herself back and onto the wall near her, calming herself she looked to the sky. The sky was pitch black but there was a giant pentagram in the sky. It looked exaclty like the one those people drew on the ground.

She decided to walk herself in the opposite direction of other two who seemed to not notice her. As she continued her walk, she got to see the city more. The stores were odd and innapropriate, signs that said death, drugs and more unexpected things. The stores equally innapropriate and shocking. She'd never think she'd see such things this public, where was she?

She heard more voices nearby that got louder. Not wanting to know what these beings would do to her, she bolted away, running into another alleyway that was also dark. Maybe if she went into there, no one could see her or at least run into her. She did pass some creature people but they were either very old or asleep. She held her arms, trying to comfort herself. When she continued, she heard strange squishing and munching sounds, sounds she didn't like. But she was too curious to ignore it.

She peeked around the corner, horrified over what she saw. A tall red man stood over piles of bodies, it seems he was munching something and most definitely, it was the people he killed. Her eyes started to tear up, the sight was terrifying but she couldn't look away. She turned to see someone moving, his arms reaching out and his face screaming "I need help". Her heart dropped,seeing him like that, no matter what he looked like, he was still a living person.

She decided to help, she snuck to him as quietly as he could, looking at the tall man from time to time just incase he noticed. She reached for his arms and gently moved some body parts of other people who were on top of him. The person looked like an old man mixed with a beetle bug she would see in her yard, she liked those beetles. She pulled his arm around her head to support him with her shoulders. She lifted him up and they slowly and quietly made their way out of the area.

???: "And where do you think you're taking him?" A static voice that sounded like it was coming from a radio spoke from behind, she froze, her heart stopped, she didn't want to turn, she wanted to run but she knew the old man couldn't. What could she do? Before a thing was done, a sound of splatterd liquid, the sound of the old man screaming and his breath leaving him, the feeling of blood, covered her sides and face and seeing the old man drop to the floor in a pool of red.

He was gone, dead, he didn't move or make a sound. She stared at his lifeless body as the pool turned to a river, as the red poured down a nearby drain. She slowly turned and jumped back as the creatures face was right next to hers. She dropped to the ground and looked up. The man was tall, covered in blood but she could see he wore a suit, his hair was red, he had a cane with what looked like a microphine at the end and his face. It wore a large sickly smile that gleamed in yellow sharp teeth, his eyes were large and red as well and she could slightly see a monocle on his right eye.

He leaned down to get a better look of her, he hummed in a curious way. His staticy voice and demeanour was down right terrifying. She kept herself still for the moment but she badly wanted to run. ???: "So my dear, how did someone like you end up in place like this?". How was she supposed to answer that question? She didnt even know what "place" she was in.

Alice: "U-um I-I dont know w-what place this is exactly?". The man perked up from this, it caught his attention. ??: "Well this is hell my dear, every person from above that commits a terrible sin ends up in the world that punishes them for it". This surprised her more, hell? HELL?? She was in hell?? But how?? Why?? What??. So many questions and thoughts ran through her mind as her anxiety and fears rose from its depths. Tears started slowly flowing from her eyes, she was in hell, no wonder everything was so, strange and inappropriate and bad. This was a place where bad people went and she was there.

The man watched her sob, his eyes lowered as his smile widened. ??: "now my dear, I'll ask you again". His looks became darker as his smile widened more and his eyes fluctuating with red as symbols appeared around his body. An instensity building in the air, sending signs to her body to run. ??: "How did you end up here?". His eyes and body went static as the symbols grew, his voice dark, his posture intimidating.

This was too much, within seconds she got up and ran, ran as fast as she could, down the alley as far as she could. She turned to see his devilish smile plastered on his face in amusement. She ran faster into a full sprint, out into the streets, running past people and creatures of all shapes and sizes. They stared and watched her speedy pace. It looked like she'd never stop running until *BAM* she ran into something or someone. She tried to clear her head as it spinned uncontrollably. When she got to her senses she looked to what she ran into.

It was a person, they were on the ground as well, also trying to process the situation. She shot up, feeling really bad about it. She stood up immediately to try and help the person. Alice: "I am so sorry, I am so so sorry, i wasn't looking where i was going and I-". The person shot a glare up to her, he was a strange but unusually attractive person. He had strange hair but was covered all over in white and pink fur. He had a sharp smile with one gold tooth, his eyes were strange as well, one was black where the white should be and a pink pupil. What was also strange was he had 4 arms from what she could see.

??: "Well maybe you should watch where you going?! Crazy chick". He held his head, he must of hit it. She felt really bad and looked down with a sad look. Alice: "I'm really sorry". The person looked to her with a bit of a surprise, seeing her sincere face that was written in regret caught him off guard. ??: " Yeah, whatever". He said it in a low way while continuing to rub his head.

Alice: "Do you need help up? I can give you a hand, its the least i can do for knocking you down". The person stared at her confused, which made her confused. ??: "Eh, its fine i got it". With the help of the car beside him, he got himself up. He was a lot taller then expected and looked very feminine. If it wasn't for his voice, she would've thought he was a woman, maybe he was a transgender? She didn't know. He looked at her up and down, taking in her strange look.

He tilted his head in confusion but quickly got rid of it. ??: "So why in such a hurry toots?". She then remembered her terrifying encounter with that person and her fears came back. She looked around hoping not to see him, she didn't but she didn't want to stick around to find out. Alice: "I just was, running away from something terrifying". She held her arms as she shook from the memory. ??: "Is that why you're covered in blood?". He looked casually at the blood stains which she looked at as well, the memory of the old beetle man replayed in her mind which sent shivers down her spine.

Alice: "Y-yes, I'm gonna go now, again, really sorry for running into you, h-have a nice day". The stranger watched her walk away, still looking like she'll collapse from exhaustion or something. He really wanted to walk away from the situation but an annoying itch inside him etched the situation. ??: "Uuugh, wait there toots". Alice stopped in her tracks and looked to the person. ??: "Come here".

As he said that, he pointed to her then to his side, his lowers arms crossed as he leans against the car. Alice slowly approached him, wonderimg what he wanted. He stepped away from the car door and opened it. ??: "Get in". He directed her to get into the car, she stopped in surpsise, why did she want him to get in? Alice: "Um, why?". He rolled his eyes at her question. ??: "Just get in before I change my mind". She stepped towards the door but stopped at the entrance. Alice: "Is this your car?". He looked away, hesistant to answer.

??: "Uuuh, yeah its mine". She wasn't convinced but she'd rather be anywhere but out in the open, she entered in. When she was in he closed the door. When she looked around, she relised the car was a lot bigger then expected, like a limousine. Quite a fancy car with interesting patterns, it was quite eye catching and she sort of liked it.

As time went by and Alice waited in the car on her own, one of the doors on the other side opened. Alice expected the person she met before to come in but instead was met with two girls she's never seen before. They were deep in a conversation together which Alice dared not interrupt as they didn't notice her at all. The girl to her right looked very human, even if she could see some fangs while she talked, she was more pale then an average person but she had red spots on her cheeks, the edge of her eyes were thick with what Alice guessed was eyeliner which looked really good on her. She wore a pink suit and had beautiful golden hair. The other girl was darker skinned, maybe foreign? She didn't want to assume. She wore a short dress with knee high boots, had long white hair that covered one of her eyes that seemed to have an X on it and a cute large bowtie on the back of her hair.

These two girls have been the closest to looking like humans since she's gotten here, wonder if they could be friends. ??: "He's not gonna agree, you see how he acted and looked when you told him about it, He's probably going to prattle on to his rich friends how stupid we were". ??: "Come one Vaggie, we can't lose hope, you never know, he might change his mind, uh what do you think about it Angel?". They straight away looked to Alice who they might have thought was this Angel.

Alice jumped when they noticed her, they looked to her eyes wide and confused why some random person was in their car. ??: "Um, who are you?". The golden hair girl asked her nicely as the other one, from what she learned her name is Vaggie, got up into a defensive position, summoning a spear from nowhere. Vaggie: "WHO ARE YOU AND WHY ARE YOU HERE?!!!". She pointed the spear directly into Alices' face which scared her into backing as far as she could and holding her hands up. She was scared again, this girl did seem hostile while the other was calm but she didn't think this hostile.

??: "Vaggie wait, calm down, look she's scared now". Vaggie glared at Alice with distrustful eyes which made Alice flinch. After a few seconds she lowered her spear but still stared daggers into her. The other kind girl sat her down and looked to Alice, her eyes spelling out apologise. ??: "Sorry about that, we just didn't expect someone else here besides our friend, um, I'm Charlie if you didnt know, its nice to meet you". She held out her hand for a handshake which Alice accepted, her kindness made her relaxed.

Alice: "I'm really sorry about this, I accidentally ran into someone outside, I apologized and we started talking and I needed to leave but he let me into this car which he said was his but I doubt it was although it was better then out there". Charlie looked to Alice confused while Vaggie relaxed but was still cranky for some reason. Charlie: "Why is that?". The memory of that moment resurfaced and her fears returned, her shaking started again as she also started to tear up. Meanwhile Vaggie noticed something and pointed it out to Charlie.

Charlie rushed to Alices' side, holding her hand and rubbing her back. Charlie: "Hey hey, its ok, its ok, calm down, you're ok". Charlies soft voice, gentle smile and therapeutic massaging calmed Alice down, her shaking stopped and she wiped her tears. Alice: "I'm sorry, something horrible happened and I just". She sniffled and her voice shaked as she talked, she tried to suppress it as hard as she could that worked for the most part.

Charlie gently squeezed her hand, even Vaggie came over to comfort her, probably trusting her more and more as time went. After a few minutes of silence between them as they all huddled into comforting her. She stopped her sniffles and tears and her shaky breathing and voice calmed a lot more. Charlie continued her rubbing as Vaggie placed her hand on her shoulder. Charlie: "Its ok, whatever happened is over now, you'll be ok". Alice smiled to Charlie, she was happy she met her and Vaggie, they both eased her fears and anxieties pretty well.

Charlie looked to the red stains on her body, concern covered her face. Charlie: "Are you injured at all? Because theres a lot of" Charlie pointed to the blood that Alice looked at as well. Alice: "Oh no, this isnt my blood, sorry if i got any on the seat". Charlie: "Oh don't worry about it, its not the first time bloods been on these seats". Alice was startled by how casual she said that. Alice: "Well, i should explain more on myself, um, my names Alice, I'm very knew here actually so I don't know really anything".

Charlie perked up, the news of a new person was exciting for her. She grabbed her hand with her both of hers, an excited jolt in her expression and demeanour. Charlie: "You're new? Oh that's exciting, how about you stay at our hotel? Its an amazing place for demons and sinners to find comfort and a way to be redeemed". Alice looked at her interested, demons? Is that what everyone is? It make sense if its hell, and redeemed? Can demons be redeemed? If so, is there a way she could go home?

Thinking about it, she didn't know if she could but she could try and these girls seemed nice so why not? Alice: "Sure, sounds nice although i don't have any money to pay to stay there". Its true, her money was in her phone case which she dropped before she, well, dropped. Charlie shook her head vigorously. Charlie: "Don't worry about it, its not important, you can start paying once you get yourself settled but for now, its all free". That seemed fair, even if she were to somehow leave this place, if she couldn't, there wasn't anything stopping her from settling down here, as long though as nothing like earlier will happen again.

As they continued chatting, the door swung open and of course, the person Alice ran into and who let her into the car, presumably their name being Angel, was standing right there, eating a sandwich. Angel: "Huh, so you all met, guess that means i don't need to introduce you, hey can you scooch over so I can sit?" Vaggie gave him a glare then moved to the other side of the car which Charlie then followed her after. Angel sat next to Alice who moved over to let him have some room.

Angel: "So what i miss?". Charlie smiled to Angel which Angel looked confused about. Charlie: "Oh Angel I'm so proud of you, you helped someone, Eeeee i knew you could". Charlie was all giddy and excited about this while Angel looked a bit flustered. Angel: "Whatever, was just annoyed how patheitc she looked when she walked away, ok?". Charlie gave a gentle smile while Vaggie smirked. Vaggie: "Well next time inform us when you're doing your "good deeds". Angel rolled his eyes at her comment, leaning his face on his palm while staring out the window.

Alcie: "Oh uh by the way, my names Alice, Charlie's allowed me to stay at their hotel, do you work there?". Angel looked to Alice with a smirk, amused by something. Angel: "Alice huh? The names Angel Dust and I guess you could say I work there, I'm more of their "test subject" on the whole redemption thing". Chalrie: "Don't say that Angel, you are our very important member and patron to our cause". Angel dust: "And the only free one". He giggled at his little joke but stopped as soon as he saw Vaggie stare at him with fury in her eyes.

Angel Dust: "But i also have another job, if you must know, its a pretty fun one". He said that as relaxed on the chair, folding his arms behind his head, leaning on them. Charlie: "He's an, entertainer, in a way". She said it pretty nervously which got Alice confused. Alice: "Oh yeah? what kind of entertainment?". Angel gave her a pretty smirky smile, his devious eyes looking at her. Angel dust: "It means i suck d***". This shocked Alice into chocking on her spit, making her cough profusley.

Angel Dust: "I'm lucky enough to never choke when I'm doing it though". Alice continued to cough before calming herself. Charlie went over to try and help. Charlie: "Angel". Angel Dust: "What? She asked what I do for a job and i answered her, what else was I suppose to say?". Angel got all defensive as Charlie looked to him in a doubtful look. Charlie something other then that". As this was happening, the car had already almost made it to the hotel.

When it did, Alice stepped out in awe at the hotels unique and extraordinary form. The ship on the side was a shock, the inconsistent shapes and sizes of each few floors was incredible. She wondered how many stayed in this magnificent place, it could fit hundreds maybe thousands of guests. She was quite excited to go inside.

#hazbin hotel #The one who fell #fanfic #Alice OC #Charlie #Vaggie #Alastor #Angel Dust #oof #here we go #got to writing it #this is gonna be interesting #sorry i havent been doing my other one #lost motivation #will continue it dont worry #will get to it soon #im on a trip so my minds elsewhere

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szopenhauer · 4 years ago

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Does the number 18 have any significance to you? no

Did you kiss, hug, or hold hands with anyone today? hug my mom

Do you ever get “good morning” texts from anyone? yes

How far away are you from the person you like? over 230 km

Ever had sex under water? no way

Is it easy to annoy you? very

Can you name every single person you have kissed? I can

The last person you kissed on the lips said that you were the only one they wanted, would you believe them? sure

What if your girlfriend/boyfriend was flirting with another girl/boy? that’s cheating and I’m not ok with this

Have you ever kissed someone whose name starts with a J or a C? neither

Do you prefer the beach or the mountains? beach, I hate mountains

How do you usually feel when you wake up on a morning? bad

Would you rather take someone on a date, or be taken on a date? just go together on a date omg...

When was the last time you wore high heeled shoes? my sister’s wedding

Vodka or wine? none, gross

Do you wear socks to bed? when it’s a very cold winter

Where were you when you got your first period? visiting my (now ex) friend, I think we were also swimming that day but I didn’t get period in the water luckily

Can you change a car tire? I’ve never tried so doubt it

Do you sleep naked? nope

Cigarettes or alcohol? cigarettes do less harm to people around but both are still bad

Exercise or healthy eating? healthy eating

Favorite and least favorite accents? British is cool, not sure

Do you like 1980s fashion? some of it :D

What color is your favorite hoodie? grey/green Do you have a string of lights in your room? purple bats that I got in Pepco during Halloween season Do you know what you are going to do today? I’m taking care of my niece Does your heart hurt? not atm

Can you see the moon out your window right now? it’s too early for that

What makes you feel inspired? everything can at least in theory Can you see the sunrise from your window? from our kitchen If you were a writer, would you have a pen name or use your real name? I already published book under my real name What is your friend’s cat’s name? my gf’s cat’s name is Kot which means Cat in polish Do you celebrate your pet’s birthdays? not really As a kid, did you celebrate your dolls’ birthdays? doubt it Are you wearing a hoodie right now? it’s hot so I’m wearing a T-shirt Did you ignore the last facebook post that bothered you, or did you comment? hidden it Do you need to go to the pharmacy today? not this day If you were a famous singer, what would you want your hit song to be about? something personal that other people relate to

If you had to re-design an alien, instead of making them green with slanty-eyes and an egg-shaped head, what would you make it look like? I would make many different species but some would look exactly like humans

Would you want your first child to be a boy or a girl? I don’t want to have kids but if I had one then only a girl If you were to write an article for a magazine, what would it be about? interior design for example Do you think you are good at writing poetry? not the worst Have you ever had a teacher who looked like an alien? I had a teacher that looked exactly like Sid from Ice age If you could do research right now for an essay, what topic would you choose to write about? hmm... What are your strongest attributes? I don’t feel I have any?... Have you ever started writing a suicide letter? if you have still something to say that isn’t part of your last will then you’re probably not ready to die yet so whenever I wanted/tried to kill myself I didn’t leave any suicide letter behind Do you write letters to friends? had two pen pals - Justyna and Dorota Do you like to write letters? prefer to send trinkets Do you own a piece of jewelry with an owl on it? ring in a shape of an owl Does looking at the starry sky make you feel peaceful? meh Are you under 30? 2 years left... Do you paint rocks and hide them in your town? nobody would care but that’s a cute idea and who knows what I’ll do with it ;) Do you like parodies? rarely Are you a Taylor Swift fan? I don’t care Have you ever kissed a picture? I don’t recall Do you decorate for fall? tiny bit Has suicide crossed your mind a lot lately? this year - constantly Do you have supernatural abilities? couple of my night dreams came true and I happen to guess answers to some questions without knowledge but using my intuition Do you get enough hugs? I don’t need lots, I get plenty Have you asked yourself recently, Why am I here? 24/7 What family member did you get your hair color from? my mom If you designed a house, would you give it a secret room? I don’t think so Do you read horror stories? I do not Does stretching feel good? occasionally Do you have your wedding planned in your head already? mhm ^^” Would you ever adopt a child? if I ever had a child then only adopted one

Would you be mad if your mom showed your gf your baby pictures? I showed my gf my baby pics myself

Do you completely trust the person you’re dating? not completely but she’s one of few I trust the most

Has someone ever called you heartless before? surely

Have you ever completely given up on someone any time in life? more than one person

Would you rather give someone presents or receive them? give

How many chances do you normally give someone before giving up on them? it’s not about the amount

Do you hate it when people pronounce ‘potatoes’ as ‘taters?’ I don’t like it

When the holidays come around, do you watch holiday movies? like 1, as a kid I watched plenty

Would you say you’re a friendly person or not so much? what does friendly even mean?...

Have you ever / do you ever recycle? we recycle at home

Who is the nosiest person you know? my mom

When did you last talk to one of your teachers? last time I had a teacher

Would you say you’re a faster or slow learner? *shrug*

Are you one of those people who like The Nightmare Before Christmas? didn’t watch it

What’s your favorite oldest film? Buster Keaton ones Have you ever been in a relationship with someone 10+ years older? noooo

Do you think it’s weird to cut pizza with scissors? we were cutting apples with scissors in school so... Aliens or unicorns? aliens

How do you usually do your hair? I leave them be What is something you’re procrastinating? everything

Do you play any games on your phone? Choices

have you ever liked two brothers? have two brothers ever liked you at the same time? no and no, same when it comes to sisters

when was the last time your town was sunny? how about rainy? it’s sunny now, it was rainy day ago when was the last time your internet was down? this morning how often do you shave your legs in the winter? I don’t bother have you seen the movie 17 again (the zac efron one)? it was lil creepy

has your boyfriend/girlfriend ever had braces?: she had braces when we first dated

have you ever drawn a portrait of somebody? who?: family members and people on tumblr, OCs if they count

how many years apart are you and your boyfriend/girlfriend?: months

have you kissed more than two people of the same sex?: not even two

when are you getting a new phone?: when this one’s dead

what did you wear today?: I changed into my red leggings with white polka dot pattern to go for a walk

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imagitory · 5 years ago

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The Cast of Yu-Gi-Oh...Sorted!

Hey guys! I’ve done several other posts like this for other fandoms and I’ve even Sorted some of these characters in other Sorting Hat asks in the past, but...well, I just decided, why not compile all of those thoughts in one big post to answer the question: where would the main cast of characters from Yu-Gi-Oh: Duel Monsters be Sorted, if they attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?

Yugi Mutou ~ Hufflepuff!

I’ve seen a lot of fictional Sortings favor putting “the hero” in Gryffindor with his “best friend” types all being in Hufflepuff, but Yugi, in my opinion, is a perfect example of how heroic Hufflepuff values can be. Whereas Atem uses clever strategies to outwit his opponents and save the day, Yugi’s greatest strength and magic is his compassion. It’s what transformed a bully like Jounouchi into a loyal comrade, what opened up fiery, distrustful Rebecca to friendship, what strengthened the bonds between the many different friends he’s made, and what moved the ruthless spirit of darkness inhabiting his body so much that that spirit saw him as his partner and equal. Like many Hufflepuffs I know, Yugi always puts his friends first, putting their safety and well-being over his own every time -- self-sacrifice is a tenant of Hufflepuff house, and Yugi has that in spades. Still, Yugi is just and noble enough to also protect those who might not necessarily “deserve” his help: he values all life, regardless of whose it is or how terrible that person has been to him. Yugi is warm, dedicated, loyal, and modest, and being a connoisseur of games, he also esteems fair play, hence why he reacts so bitterly to Insector Haga throwing his grandfather’s Exodia cards off the boat in an underhanded way to keep Yugi from using them to win any more duels.

Yami Yugi / Pharaoh Atem ~ Slytherin!

Atem is the yin to Yugi’s yang, the darkness to his light, and therefore the Slytherin to his Hufflepuff. Whereas Yugi’s soul room is light, airy, and open, Atem’s is a dark labyrinth of endless tunnels and traps -- and yeah, Hufflepuff’s and Slytherin’s commonrooms, despite both being underground, have that same dichotomy, with Hufflepuff’s being sunny and cheerful with a location next to the kitchens and Slytherin’s being dark and dungeon-like by the underground lake. Atem’s eternal goal is to win every game he plays, regardless of whether or not he initiates the game or not, and he will do anything to win, even if it ends up compromising his morals. (See his duel with Kaiba during Duelist Kingdom or the Orikalkos duel with Raphael for evidence of this.) When he or his friends are threatened, Atem also retaliates ruthlessly and mercilously, as Insector Haga or any of his Shadow Game victims from the early manga or season 0 can tell you. Fortunately, despite his intense drive to win at all costs, Atem does always follow the rules of whatever game he’s in and he almost always wins because he’s both clever and resourceful enough to outwit his opponents. Appropriate to Slytherins as well, he has a great desire and focus on his past, wanting to learn more about it so as to better understand who he is, what he’s supposed to do, and how he can approach the future. If Yugi showcases Hufflepuff heroism with mercy and kindness, then Atem showcases Slytherin heroism with brilliance and passion.

Katsuya Jounouchi ~ Gryffindor!

Admittedly Jounouchi does fit the hot-tempered, aggressive, yet noble stereotype of Gryffindor pretty well off-the-bat, but there’s more to it than that for me. Jounouchi is a very active person, ready to jump in to protect his friends from whatever slight is thrown their way -- all of the Gryffindors I know have a very “knight”-like affect to them where they just can’t sit back and do nothing when people are being mistreated. I would also argue that in the series, Jounouchi is motivated to become a stronger duelist not just because of him wanting to help his sister (which is why he entered Duelist Kingdom), but because he wants to improve himself. As he tells Kaiba at one point at the end of Battle City, even after he lost to Marik on a technicality (JOUNOUCHI SHOULD’VE WON THAT DUEL AND BECOME THE OWNER OF THE WINGED DRAGON OF RA AND I WILL SCREAM THAT ‘TIL THE DAY I DIE), “his Battle City isn’t over,” because he hasn’t yet earned his Red Eyes back from Yugi in the duel they promised to have after the tournament was over. And honestly, I’d say Jounouchi’s “Battle City” will probably never be over for him, because every duel he fights only makes him love the game more and makes him push himself to become even better. Jounouchi’s nobility also shines through multiple times in the show, whether it’s promising to save Ryuzaki’s soul from Dartz after he defeats him in their duel, ordering his Red Eyes Black Dragon to protect Mokuba from a blast from the Five-Headed Dragon even if it meant dooming himself, or getting Yugi the last piece of the Millennium Puzzle back after he threw it into a pond.

Hiroto Honda ~ Hufflepuff!

Honestly, thanks to his lack of character development in the Duel Monsters anime and the shifts in his limited characterization between his manga, season 0, and anime selves, this Sorting is really tricky. In season 0 exclusively, Honda is portrayed as more of a rule-keeper and is the head of the “beautification department” (which I guess is sort of like a janitorial thing, but for students?). It hints to a love of order that seems very Ravenclaw-esque and could’ve been an interesting twist to set him apart from Jounouchi and the others, but alas, it’s something that really isn’t reflected that much in either manga!Honda or DM!Honda’s characterization. In all three mediums, though, even though he’s depicted as having been Jounouchi’s friend long before he met Yugi and Anzu, Honda still comes off as more level-headed and cautious than Jounouchi. If Jounouchi is a raging hothead, Honda is the down-to-earth voice of reason. We also see in all three mediums that Honda has a romantic side, whether it’s with classmate Miho Nosaka or Jounouchi’s little sister Shizuka, and really, it’s in that capacity that we see that Honda can be pretty darn stupid too. (Not trying to bash Honda, truly, but this guy does not know how to play the game of love at all.) In the end, no matter which series we see him in, Honda’s main motivation is sticking by his buddies. He’s no duelist and he has little interest in being so, but he deeply cares about his friends’ safety and will always be right there to protect them and cheer them on however he can. So as much as I lament that I don’t have more to work with when it comes to Honda, his loyalty and down-to-earth demeanor do seem very consistent with Hufflepuff.

Anzu Mazaki ~ Gryffindor!

Anzu is another character whose characterization fluctuates between the manga and the two anime series. In all three mediums, she’s a dedicated, romantic person who although not being talented in Duel Monsters herself is always there to cheer her friends on in their struggles. In the manga, she’s depicted as a little more flighty and girly, using love charms and getting her romantic fortune told, and at one point even recklessly putting herself in danger in the hopes that “the other Yugi” will appear and rescue her. In season 0, we see her being braver and more vocal in standing up to people -- she tries to protect a girl from punishment after she gets caught trying to confess her feelings to Jounouchi in a love letter; she helps catch a criminal hiding out in the fast food restaurant she works in by lying about what ingredients are used in their burgers; and she resolutely decides to have her soul transferred into a doll alongside Yugi and her friends when Yami Bakura challenges them to a Monster World Shadow Game. In the Duel Monsters anime, some of that courage is shaved off of Anzu and she’s depicted as less reckless and more grounded, but there are still points where her nobility can shine through, like when she decides to fight in Yugi’s place to win Mai’s star chips or she stops Atem from attacking Insector Haga over and over again after he’s already won. Although I could very easily see Anzu fitting into Hufflepuff as well (especially in the Duel Monsters anime), upon a lot of reflection, I think that, since I would put two out of the three versions of her in this house and even the third version could still work there, Gryffindor is her ultimate best place.

Seto Kaiba ~ Slytherin!

I’m sure a lot of you were expecting Ravenclaw, and yes, I do think Kaiba is on the cusp between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, but let me explain why Kaiba is a Snake in my mind and not an Eagle. Kaiba is a very intelligent person with a great love of achievement, yes, but his sole focus is always on getting what he wants, whether it’s defeating Yugi, winning all three Egyptian God cards and then defeating Yugi, opening up his own theme park where he can defeat Yugi -- LOL, okay, I’m partially kidding, but...yeah, Kaiba’s focus is solely on what he wants, even if it is to win at something. Ravenclaws tend to have a very “worldly” view of the world and try to find their own distinct place in it, whereas Slytherins don’t give a damn about the rest of the world as long as their inner circle is safe. Throughout the series, Kaiba consistently chooses his little brother and the well-being of his company over everything else. In fact, in the Japanese dub of the Duel Monsters anime, the reason Kaiba barely reacts to all the crazy magic stuff going on around him isn’t because he doesn’t believe it’s happening like English!Kaiba, but because he simply doesn’t care. All he cares about is beating Yugi and looking after his company and brother. Everything else going on in the background, even if it does involve unknown magics that could shake someone’s entire world view and their place in it, just isn’t that important to him. Plus Ravenclaws aren’t just known for their intelligence and love of achievement -- they’re also known for wisdom and open-mindedness, both of which are very unKaiba. Kaiba is incredibly judgmental of everyone he meets, only deigning to show respect to those very few people he deems as being on his level, and although in the Japanese dub of the Duel Monsters anime, Kaiba showed moments of deeper thought and good judgement, the only wisdom English!Kaiba showcases on a regular basis is his assortment of snarky wisecracks. But if we look at Slytherin’s values, I think they line up with Kaiba and his characterization a bit better. Ambition -- well, considering that he challenged a CEO to a game of chess just to get him and his brother adopted, forcefully took over that same CEO’s arms and weapons business, and turned the whole thing into a gaming company complete with its own gaming products, Duel Monsters tournaments, and friggin’ THEME PARK, all before he even became a legal adult, I’d say that fits. Resourcefulness -- as Kaiba brings up to both Amelda and Ziegfried, he started off with nothing and could only use his talents and smarts to outwit his stepfather, take over KaibaCorp, and make it successful. Cleverness -- Kaiba may not be the King of Games, but he’s probably the only duelist who truly stands toe-to-toe with Atem in the dueling arena without cheating. Even Bakura, another one of Atem’s most prominent rivals, has to cheat in both the manga and the anime series to try to stay ahead of him. A certain disregard for the rules -- honestly, Kaiba tends to follow the rules of whatever game he’s playing, BUUUUT he does still seem to find joy in bucking other people’s expectations and doing whatever the hell he wants because he can. I mean, this is the guy who bought an entire city to host a gaming tournament, quickly wrote a ridiculously high check to a car salesman before driving off in one of his cars without another word (does he even HAVE a driver’s license??), and who blew up his own Duel Tower on KaibaCorp island just so he and Mokuba could fly away on their Blue Eyes White Dragon jet out of the rubble. (There is a reason why in Yu-Gi-Oh Abridged, his catchphrase is “screw the rules, I’ve got money” -- just sayin’.) And honestly, as much as Kaiba claims he doesn’t look back at the past, he is still clearly haunted and defined by it. The wounds of Gozaburo’s mistreatment were so deep that Kaiba felt like he had to blow up the ruined remnants of his old headquarters just to try to move on with his life. Atem defeating him affected him so much that he spent five whole seasons and an entire movie obsessing over their rivalry and how he would eventually defeat him. Hell, in DSOD, he even tried to put the Millennium Puzzle back together in a vain attempt to get Atem to come back and duel him again, and when he failed in that, he actually made a device so he could crash Atem’s friggin’ AFTER-LIFE just to try to duel him! “Bury the past,” my ass! As much as I could see Kaiba fitting pretty well in Ravenclaw too, I think part of the reason he and Atem are so at each other’s throats all the time is because of their two massive Slytherin egos constantly trying to one-up each other.

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elane-in-the-shadows · 5 years ago

Text

Red Queen Fan Fiction - Red Huntress Chapter 5

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue

Find this on Wattpad and on AO3

A/N: Not to give too much away or to wake too high expectations, but this is were the gay stuff starts.

Clara and Willis Farley had trained together for weeks when Diana joined them. It wasn’t frequent or regular. On average, they sneaked away once a week, although some weeks passed without a session while other weeks offered occasions for several lessons. They tried to remain inconspicuous, regarding their other occupations, Clara's as master butcher and Willis's returning to hunting. Mostly, Diana’s father passed on the standard skills he’d learned as a Red soldier in the army – officially and unofficially. As it was, the Red soldiers had tricks of their own to stay alive, apart from what Silver officers taught them in the few months before they sent the Reds to the choke.

At first, it was these basics Diana learned from her father as they were easy enough for a 12-year-old to perform. At least they should’ve been, but despite her years filled by running, hunting and farm work, Diana struggled to unite these skills into a capacity for battle.

Unlike her mother who was a natural. Even taking Clara’s head start and Willis’s blind eye into account, it was obvious Mama was the best fighter among them. Sparring with her soon became a challenge to both Diana and her father.

Often, when Diana repeated the basic stances once again to engrave them into her body’s memory, her mother sat aside and scrolled through an old book, one looking unusually well-preserved and rich in making. Diana hadn’t noticed it at first, lost in her moves and Papa’s coaching. Then she assumed Mama had another secret hobby. Nothing would’ve surprised her at this point. When she finally asked about the book, Mama shrugged but grinned over her whole face.

“Papa brought it home,” she said. “It’s a manual for Silver training. How they learn to duel one another and such.”

Papa, similarly amused, shook his head. “I just grabbed it by accident. A Silver wanted several of her books disposed of and I picked up a few on a whim.”

Mama kissed his cheek. “The best booty you’ve got.”

Diana, intendedly ignoring their show of affection, went for the book. After a few glances, she looked at her parents in confusion. “I can’t read … can't understand it.”

Mama nodded. “It’s written in the language preferred by the noble Silvers. Papa and I had it in school for a while. Haven’t you?”

Diana tried to remember. “Now that you say it … it was years ago, only for a few months, I believe.”

Mama took her by the shoulder, suddenly serious. “You should refresh your knowledge. Many official documents and forms are written in this language, and you should be able to read them.”

Diana sighed, hearing the implied demand to pay attention to school in general. But as she started to delve into the book and figure out the language and fighting techniques both, she rejoiced at the notion that she learned the tongue of the Silvers through instructions to best them.

"To defeat an eye despite their ability of precognition, bring them into a situation out of which they can't escape, for example, employ attacks from two sides ..."

Yet there was no use to be made of her secret lessons, not for years. Diana hunted and butchered, went to school, worked at her mother’s family’s farm, did the occasional job in the village and trained with her parents to finally make a breakthrough in her lessons when she won against her mother three times in a row.

But when she asked about the Scarlet Guard again, voicing the forbidden name, her parents basically froze and couldn’t hush her fast enough.

There is nothing to be done here, she heard when she was lucky, and more often, you’re too young for this. Which in turn made her wonder there was something to be done; if not for her, then for her parents. Her mother happened to be away on her own for several days every now and then, something she hadn’t done before, and the same applied to her father. Nonetheless, their silence persisted and Diana went along with it. Save for the one time she requested to know how Madeline was involved – not at all, as she didn’t wish for fighting lessons – Diana stopped speaking about the Scarlet Guard or rebellion to begin with.

None of her friends were surprised by her bruises and sore muscles after an intense session, as both were nothing uncommon in farm work. Nobody questioned that Diana had little time or skipped one or two schooldays – there wasn’t much to learn in their little all-age school anyway. She could go through missed lessons later on, by herself, or have her parents teach her about them and anything else she needed to know. Apart from basic subjects like reading, writing and math, the children of Sieverling certainly learned nothing in school that would get them into better jobs, outside of the village.

Would the Scarlet Guard get me out of here? Diana began to wonder. Do they need me out of here? After all, it was almost four years after she’d first heard of them and three years of fighting training, and she’d never been introduced to them. She didn’t believe her parents lied to keep her away from the rebels, and yet …

“Ever thought of going away?” Diana asked Giselle who lay down next to her on a freshly-cut meadow. It was a noon after school on a hot day in the summer when they were fifteen. Giselle shaded her eyes with her arm while Diana looked right into the bright blue sky. In an almost leisurely moment like this, one dared to feel at home with joy instead of dread.

She knew the beauty of the place she called home was an illusion. But not Giselle's. Not the people she loved.

With warmth spreading through her, Diana regarded Giselle, whose skirts had slipped down her angled legs. Although their skin tones were quite the same in winter, Giselle’s had tanned to a deep bronze after only a few sunny days while Diana’s only ever became pinker.

Giselle sighed, still not answering. Hadn’t she heard? Diana turned onto her side and let her hand inch closer to Giselle’s, until their fingers just slightly touched. Giselle hooked her fingertips into hers.

Suddenly, she started to giggle. Diana frowned as Giselle contained herself and sat up, folding her legs. A straw had gotten stuck in her brown hair braided around her head. She cocked her head, eyes sparkling like the sunlight. She said, “are you still embarrassed over Ralf kissing you at spin the bottle that you need to leave home, Diana? I know he can be quite a nuisance, the way he’s pining after – ”

“No, I – ” … I would’ve rather kissed you, she thought but swallowed it down, blushing intensely. Why though? Over the years, her crush on Giselle had never faded to friendship alone. And how long she’d needed to figure out her feelings were a crush …

She didn’t let go of Giselle’s hand as she sat up. But her gaze stayed on the ground where her other hand nervously plucked at the glass. “I didn’t mean that,” she said lightly, shaking her head. “I meant moving into a town or city ...” Diana trailed off as the lazy softness vanished from Giselle’s face, replaced by something sharp and grim.

Diana blinked. Quickly, Giselle hid her dark expression with a faint smile that, for her standards, was as chiding as she’d get. Putting her weight on Diana’s shoulder, she propped herself up, letting their hands disentangle. “Come now,” she urged, “I want to be punctual on my first day.” And although Giselle turned toward the pathway leading to her new job on Armina Cordes’s farm, she wasn’t really in haste. She looked over her shoulder and waited for Diana to follow.

Diana rushed after her quite unelegantly in comparison and pulled the straw from Giselle’s hair when she caught up with her. Giselle’s eyes widened, full of amusement, as she beheld it, and then she snatched it away from Diana to play with it as they walked.

Diana thought herself attractive and was proud of her body shaped by her life, but she could feel a kind of plump next to Giselle. Although they were both leanly muscled and curvy, Diana was broad, chubby and tall where Giselle had something delicate and graceful about her. The curve of her neck, bared by the hem of her summer dress and the hair braided around her head, reminded Diana of a swan, the bird the royal family had named itself for. Indeed, sometimes Giselle left an impression on Diana as marvellous and terrific as a queen.

Still, Diana felt she had to ask. “I understand you don’t want to move into town.”.

Giselle didn’t look at her. She didn’t even look ahead anymore but down to her feet.

“I see,” Diana said.

“No, you don’t.”

“Eh?”

Giselle spun toward her and dropped the straw. For a second, her lip quivered. “Do you know how it is in the cities? Think it’s better there than here?”

Diana lifted her hands in defeat. “Sorry. I mean … I didn't intend to propose moving away ...”

Giselle’s frown was so harsh. “They don’t want us in the cities. You think there are better jobs? But not enough, and not for us.”

She had never seen Giselle speak so negatively, so … hopeless and angry. It frightened her – almost. She moved to touch Giselle’s shoulder, but Giselle reached for her first.

“I’ve seen it,” Giselle said quietly. “And heard from others. The Silvers in the cities – and the Reds entrepreneurs – they want only skilled workers. And for everything else you need contacts. They only employ people they know.” She shrugged, with a helplessly weak smile. “You can try, of course. Apply day after day for some heavy task no one else wants to do, and maybe you’ll find one. But not every day. Maybe not even on most days, and then?

“You’ll fear for how to provide for your family. Tides, how to provide food and shelter for yourself.”

Diana forced herself to keep looking at Giselle, no matter how hard it was. This poverty and exploitation of Reds was, after all, what she wanted to fight against.

It was Giselle who glanced down first. “After my family left home,” she murmured, “… we lived in the city for a while, before we came here.

“We didn’t have somewhere to stay …” She shook her head and sniffed.

Although afraid that Giselle would push her away, Diana hugged her, and Giselle’s arms went around her waist. “You’re here now,” she whispered, breathing in Giselle’s smell and longing to protect her.

“I am,” Giselle replied.

After a few seconds, Giselle pulled away, wiping her eyes. “I was so glad to arrive here, to be welcome.” She smiled, and this was a genuine one. “Hard work I can have here too, but here I am safe. And happy.” Holding Diana's hand, she turned back to the path. “And who knows? It’s been only four years. That’s a very little in comparison. In a short time, we might become tenants of our own farm.”

Diana had to return her smile as she walked beside Giselle. But the moment had changed something in her, as if she’d lost her footing now that she knew Giselle’s dream.

Since Giselle hadn’t really cried, her face showed nothing of her distress when they arrived at Armina Cordes’s farm. Diana found it unsettling – not that Giselle was able to calm herself like this, but that she, Diana, had no idea how often Giselle had done this already and that she did not know what worried Giselle deep down.

But had she trusted in Giselle either? She swallowed. On the contrary, she was internalizing her parents’ rule of secrecy.

That’s only in regard to the Scarlet Guard, she thought. I have so many other things to share with Giselle.

Ms. Cordes already waited for them, her dark brown arms crossed, a red scarf covering her dreadlocks. Giselle rushed to her, about to apologize for any delays, but the farmer smiled, shaking hands with Giselle and welcoming her to her farm and greeting Diana in the same friendly manner.

With a few swift and precise orders, Giselle left for the farm house to meet Ms. Cordes’s daughter, waving goodbye to Diana. Diana waved back and was about to walk to the butcher shop to help her mother when she noticed Cordes’s gaze on her.

The farmer tilted her head. “Come with me to the barn, Diana,” she said. “I think I have a job for you.”

Diana frowned, but had no time inquire as Cordes stepped toward a barn already, so Diana had to leap after her.

The barn was huge, proving why Armina Cordes was Sieverling’s greatest farmer. Sacks amassing tons of grain were stored in one large shelf reaching up the high ceiling; farm vehicles crowded on the other side. Both spoke of Ms. Cordes history of success. She’d invested in specific seeds and the crops to be grown from them; crops she could sell to other places for a good price, and from her profit she’d bought the farming machines to plant and harvest more efficiently again.

Seeing the results, it seemed like an easy, obvious path, although Diana knew it had been anything but. Unlike other ambitious farmers, Armina Cordes had been lucky to pick the plants that turned out to grow well on her fields, true, but it had taken decades of hard labour and setbacks to come this far and still, Lord Isère wanted his parts of her success in the form of a higher tithe.

Yet the farmer never recoiled when she talked to him or his servants, like she wasn’t afraid of anything, least of all her lord. She could afford that – she had power now, power she used for the best of her village. Apart from giving away some of her yield, villagers could ask to loan vehicles and machines from her, even for travels.

Ms. Cordes halted in front of exactly such a machine. Diana ceased staring around with an open mouth and decided to return to the topic at hand. “What about this job?” she asked.

The famer stepped closer to her and pointed to a vehicle. “Tomorrow, Marcus Wolff will take you to the next town, to the market. I’d like you to assist him there.” She thought for a moment. “You might not be home by the evening.”

Diana blinked. “It’s a school day tomorrow, and so is the day after …”

Cordes inclined her head. “Indeed. But I’ve heard – from your father – that you’d be interested still.”

“Oh,” Diana exclaimed, her head spinning with the implication. Could it be? Was Armina Cordes involved with the Scarlet Guard? It wouldn’t be surprising. Did she use a kind of code word? Should she, Diana, drop a code word? Or would she fail a test being too –

The farmer smirked, and Diana calmed herself, imitating what she believed was a soldier's demeanour. “That is accurate, ma'am. I’d like to do this job for you.”

Ms. Cordes patted her shoulder. “Very well. I look forward to working with you.”

A/N 2: Reminder that child labour is pretty normalized in the Lakelands. That is the problem - minors have to work so their families make a living. Diana doesn’t realize she should be able to live diffently, but that makes child labour no less wrong.

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