#Whether we stay GIRL girls or realize we’re somewhere in between. It crushes us either way to have the ‘wrong’ voice to do anything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

teasty · 4 years ago

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kiss yourself (02) |h.js (m)

● pairing: han jisung x (female) reader

● genre: angst, smut, (kinda) fluff || fwb to lovers au

● words: 7.0k

→ summary: It all started when you and your best friend for life, Han Jisung, got a little bit too tipsy at a party and ended up waking up naked in the same bed. After that unfortunate night, you and Jisung confirmed there be a distinguished “friends with benefits” relationship between the two of you, with a few rules.

Number One: No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.

Number Two: The minute one of the two of you starts a serious relationship with someone, the benefits are cut off immediately.

Number Three: Have to respect the other’s wishes, if one doesn’t want to do it, then there’s no argument.

Number Four: No falling in love.

But, when Jisung starts crushing over your classmate, you start to break the rules. One by one.

● taglist: @itzgabz22

Chapter One | CHAPTER TWO | Chapter Three

“Oh, baby, I’m going to fuck you so good…”

You debated arson the next morning.

You woke up to the sound of screaming over the phone before the sun even came up, and realized that Jeongja was screaming her head off at some poor sap that probably didn’t deserve it. Well, who knows, you’re just mad that she didn’t even bother to leave the dorm room and go scream out in the hallway to give you your peace and another two hours of sleep. She didn’t even bother to apologize to you, only giving you a wave before she gathered some things and dashed out the door.

So, of course, you weren’t really the most happy - go - lucky person today. You decided to be lazy today and just wore an oversized gray tee shirt underneath a black jacket and a pair of denim blue ripped jeans. You didn’t even bother to do your hair, deciding to just let it flow around your shoulders and do it’s thing.

You didn’t see Jeongja again that day. You expected to see her somewhere on campus since you wanted to speak, no, yell at her why she should never, ever scream at three fifty in the morning and not even bother to apologize about it and then go running off. You debated calling her, but you didn’t want to deal with it, especially when you have better things to worry about.

It wasn’t really supposed to be a busy day, but it turned out to be just that. You’re a member of a specific team mostly meant for the organization and well being of the school. It could be considered something like a student council, but you’re not really in charge of the students, just more planning for future events and other things as well as budgeting. You’re only on this team because you were specifically chosen by a group of professors choosing students by their major. So, you, a political science major, got specially chosen for the job. Whether or not you wanted to be a part of the team, you were persuaded into it by professors, saying it’ll be beneficial for future decisions in your career as a politician.

There were only another seven students on the team. One of which, thankfully, is someone you know and trust, Christopher Bang. You both became good friends after you met him that one night months ago. Especially being on this team together made you both closer, and he was a lot friendlier than you had first imagined.

There’s another girl you know on the team, but you couldn’t call her your friend. Sure, you two talked often and never had any reason to dislike each other, but something about her just wasn't right with you. Her name is Jun Chunae. A beautiful young woman in your year, as well as your same major. She’s quite refined and civilized, if anything a little bit too proper for your liking. Whenever you tried to talk about parties, drinking or even just going out with friends for fun, she always liked to lecture you on how it’s disrespectful to the education system to ignore it’s attempt to educate us by going out and partying at night.

Other than that, she’s alright.

But, another thing about Chunae that never really sparked you right was how she acted when she was with Jisung. You had only learned recently that they’re quite touchy - feely with each other. You didn’t think they were friends, but it was obvious that Chunae had the hots for Jisung. But, with Jisung, you couldn’t really tell if he was attracted to her or not. He kind of treated her the way he treats every other girl, including you. And, that fact kind of made you upset. You know that you’re only his friend, but you have benefits that no other girl, to your knowledge, has. No, you don’t want to be treated like his girlfriend, but you didn’t just want to be treated like the only girl in the world one night only to watch him kissing up to someone else the next.

Were you jealous? Yeah, you were. You weren’t too fond of a girl you don’t exactly trust being too intimate with Jisung, your best friend. But, you’d never, ever, admit that to Jisung.

He’d cut things off the minute he hears that you’re jealous. He’d think you’re falling for him, and then try everything in his power to make sure nothing happens between the two of you. And that you’ll only stay his friend, with or without those stupid benefits.

But, back to the point at hand, you were pulled early out of your last class to attend a meeting for the team. You had met up with Christopher on your way to the conference room, since he had a class nearby your own.

“What could they want this time? And, here I thought we finally got out of these dumb meetings,” you whined, and Christopher laughed, nodding along as he agrees.

“I’m not sure,” Christopher sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I think Chunae would be sure to know,” Christopher rolls his eyes. Chunae was always the smart one of the group. She usually knew things before the rest of the team would know, which, in your eyes, was completely unfair. “Nothing against the girl, I just don’t like how she gets all these benefits just ‘cause she kisses the professor’s asses.”

“Right. I get what you mean,” you nod slowly, “But, it must be important if they pulled us out early without notifying us beforehand. It must be for some kind of event going on. No clue, though. We haven’t had a festival yet, so they might start one since winter’s coming soon.”

“Maybe a festival for the first snow?” Christopher suggests.

You shrug a shoulder, “Who knows. I don’t bother checking the weather, so snow could be falling any day, really. But you would think they would at least shoot us an email, right?”

“Who am I kidding, they don’t really care too much to ask if we’re free for a meeting. I was planning on going out with some friends tonight, but if this meeting is just like any other, then I might have to cancel.” Christopher looks down, obviously upset about the situation.

“Hey, don’t be so down about it. We might end early. And, if they do try to keep us in late, then just say you had plans and leave. It’s not like they’re going to kick out or anything. Besides, we’re already only eight people, we need more members, anyways.” You reassure, giving Christopher a friendly pat on the shoulder. You let your hands rest in your pocket, “Were you going to go with Jisung?’

“No, he said he had things to do,” Christopher shakes his head, not minding how you asked about Jisung, since you usually did to keep tabs on him, “No clue what, since that boy complains twenty - four seven about how boring it is in his dorm and how his roomie is usually doing his own thing. So it was just going to be Hyunjin, Changbin, Felix, Minho, Seungmin and I. We were gonna go to a bar. I’d invite you, but I don’t know how comfortable you would be around a bunch of guys without Jisung.”

“Yeah… Thanks for the consideration, though. I haven’t gone out drinking in a while. It might’ve been fun, but I think I would have had things to do tonight, anyways,” You give him a half - hearted smile, and Christopher bothers you a glance before his eyes shoot forward again. “Oh, hey, we’re here already.” You laugh to yourself as you stand in front of a wooden door with the word ‘CONFERENCE’ on it. Christopher opens the door for you, and you walk in. It’s dimly lit, and you weren’t surprised to see Chunae sitting at the head of the table, scrolling through her laptop as a professor sat next to her, mumbling about who knows what.

Her eyes shoot up the moment she hears the door open, and she shoots both you and Christopher a well practiced business smile before she takes her hands off her laptop and bows her head in welcome. Both you and Christopher bow back in respect, especially since a professor is present, and you both take a seat next to each other. “Hello (Y/N), Christopher. Good to see you guys made it. You have our apologies for pulling you out of class at random, but it’s quite important. Let's wait for the others before we start.”

“How important is it?” You ask, leaning back in the comfortable chair, raising a suspicious brow at Chunae, who closes her laptop.

“We’re holding an event, (Y/N),” Chunae says matter - of - factly, as if you should have known this by now, “It’s for the start of winter for the first snow. We’re going to do things a bit differently, a bit more western. It’s going to be… something like a dance. Except, we will have a performer and activities present, but for the majority of it, it’s a dance for the start of winter.”

“Called it,” Christopher raises a hand, and Chunae raises a thin, neatly trimmed brow at Christopher.

“Barely. It’s not like it’s a festival,” you hold back laughter as Christopher shrugs, still proud of his semi - correct assumption.

“Well, it can either be considered a festival or dance. Doesn’t really matter,” Chunae says, and Christopher snorts, and you glare at him. You fold your arms over your chest, making Chunae smile at your stubbornness, “Oh, come on, (Y/N). This will be fun. First, we must figure out budgeting and organization, as well as fitting everything into the school’s schedule. Other than that, it should mostly be advertising and preparation.”

After Chunae’s short description of what’s going to happen, the other team members glide in one by one. They all wave or bow to you, Christopher, the professor and to Chunae. All taking their respective seats and waiting for Chunae to begin the meeting. The professor left shortly after, not without bidding us good luck.

“Oh, and Chunae?” Christopher pipes up, and Chunae raises her brows at Christopher, giving him her attention, “How long are you going to keep up here. I originally had plans to go out with friends, so I don’t want to stay here until eleven like last time, if you can help it.”

“This is a very vital meeting, Christopher,” Chunae says, and Christopher rolls his eyes, looking away, “I don’t care if you want to go out with friends or not, this meeting might be long and that’s alright. You may choose to leave when you feel like it, but you might be absent for important information. It’s your choice.”

“Then why can’t you just e - mail me the information I missed?” Christopher shrugs a shoulder, and you nod in agreement.

“Because it’s better to discuss in person, is it not?” Chunae stands up, picking up her laptop, “We will debate on different things, as well as discuss things. It’s difficult to discuss in real time over e - mail.”

“Then call me. I’ve got things planned, Chunae, you can’t just pull us out of nowhere and expect us to keep our mouths shut when you don’t even warn us beforehand that there’s going to be a meeting. Sorry, Chunae, but you’re not in charge,” Christopher sighs, obviously irritated. Chunae waits with a stoic expression.

“I’m sorry, Christopher. I really am. I know I’m not in charge, but the professors have trusted me with the information I’m about to share. If you take this role responsibly, you’ll stay without argument. If you don’t, then leave. You won’t be kicked from your spot, but, as said before, you will miss a lot of vital information. It’s your choice in the end,” Chunae responds, and Christopher sighs, deciding not to argue further.

And after that little dispute, Chunae started the meeting by explaining what’s going on. And, as said before, the school is hosting a dance, which is not something ordinary for Korean colleges, since festivals usually took place in spring and usually was just with an invited idol to perform for a few hours. Chunae explained that this dance is mainly supposed to mark the end of fall and a new quarter, as well as the first seeing of snow. It was obvious, even though she never directly said it, that it’s mostly meant for couples and friends.

Each team member was given a specific task to do. Before Christopher left to go out with friends, he was given the task of budgeting. You were in charge of consulting, which was mostly just getting people to fund as well as finding performers, DJs, hosts and other people. It’s a lot of social work you weren’t too excited for, but you knew you had to take responsibility and do the job whether or not you wanted to do it.

Though it was quite boring, you had gotten a text midway through it. Chunae gave you a subtle glare, but didn’t care for how you responded to the text and carried on with the meeting.

It was Jisung.

heard you were pulled into a meeting. how long will u be there?

You responded quickly, keeping your phone under the table as you typed, your hands somewhat trembling, and you had to calm yourself as you typed.

wont be leaving for another hour or two. its pretty big. ill let you know when im leaving

He responded to you, but you didn’t bother to look at it as you shoved your phone back in your pocket.

“And who was that?” Chunae asks after a moment, staring down at you.

“Why do you wanna know?” Your brows furrow, and Chunae sighs.

“Because I’m talking about something important and you’re texting.”

“It’s my friend. Calm down, he’s just wondering when I’m getting off,” you raise your hands in a mocking surrender, and Chunae’s chin lifts higher.

“Hmm. Is it Jisung? Han Jisung? He’s your friend, is he not?” Chunae asks, and you begin to feel annoyance pile through you.

“Yeah, he is. What about it?” You ask, and Chunae shrugs her shoulders.

“I was just wondering,” Chunae sits back down in her seat, the others watching the conversation between the two of you with curious eyes. Chunae stuffs a lock of hair behind her ear, “He’s quite the looker. I hope I have your blessing if anything were to happen between us.”

“I don’t care what happens between the two of you guys,” you spit out, lying straight through your teeth. You do care. You care a lot. A part of you would be happy for Jisung, but another part doesn’t want him to leave you hanging for a girl like Chunae. You know she would treat him well and that Jisung might be better off with a girl like Chunae, but that jealous part of you doesn’t want to let him go. You love the sneaking around, the overnight sessions and even the semi - public ones. You’re not really ready to let that go, yet. It’s only been a few months. You didn’t expect for someone to be kissing up to Jisung this soon, but you should have expected it. “He’s my best friend. As long as you treat him well, then I might not consider punching your teeth in if you do end up with him.”

Chunae laughs, and you tensely chuckle through your nose along with her, “Well, I’m sure Jisung is happy to have a friend like you, (Y/N). So protective. Sometimes I’ve gone to wonder if you two are really in a relationship or not.”

“Yeah. You two basically hang off of each other, you’re around each other all of the time,” says another team member who you recognized as Naeyeon. Someone you didn’t bother to get to know. She didn’t seem to like you that much, anyways.

“It’s none of your business in the first place, if we were in a relationship. Which, we’re not,” you snap, not really in the mood to talk about Jisung right now, “Can we get back to the main focus?”

“Yes, my apologies, (Y/N). I shouldn’t invade your personal life like that in a professional environment like this,” Chunae stands up again, and you sigh. Already tired of this meeting.

At the end, you’re given loads of papers to go through considering consultation, and you weren’t ready to study them just yet. Your backpack got ten times heavier as you stuffed them in there, and you were the first one to leave when Chunae called the meeting to an end. You didn’t even bother to wave goodbye as you slammed through the door, basically speed - walking to get out of the main building and to the dorm rooms.

As said before, you had nothing against Chunae. In fact, you’d like to get to know her past her proper and all - to civilized self. If she were to let loose, she might be really fun, in your eyes. Her whole aura just sets you off, sometimes. Sometimes, she can get pretty stuck up, and you’re not sure how Jisung could handle her if he continuously complains about your stubbornness.

Speaking of Jisung, one of the first things you did when you basically ran out of the conference room was text Jisung that the meeting’s finally over and if you should start heading there.

He never answered faster.

He said you should head there, but to be careful of security since it’s so late. You were cautious, but thankfully no officer was out this late, even though it was only ten - thirty at night and curfew was thirty minutes ago. It’s a pretty long walk to Jisung’s dorm, though, since it’s on the top floor of the (decently huge) building. Since it’s past curfew, the elevators weren’t in working order anymore, and you had to take the stairs to the top floor, which absolutely killed your feet. But, once you made it to the familiar dorm door, you rested against the doorframe before knocking softly.

It takes Jisung a minute to open the door. You take that time to relax your weight against the doorframe, but your peace is short-lived when the door swings open so fast you almost lose balance of yourself by how fast Jisung opens the door. So, it takes you a short moment to actually take in Jisung’s appearance. His hair is messy and damp, and it’s obvious he has just showered most likely not too long ago. He wears a pair of gray sweatpants and no shirt, and you try not to gawk at his well built and defined body. He stares down at you silently, a small smirk playing at his lips as his half - lidded eyes scan over your body.

But, after that moment, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you inside. The moment the door is slammed shut and locked behind you, he presses you against the door. Your heart beats rapidly against your chest as Jisung’s hands grip your wrists and pin you to the door. His face mere centimeters away from yours, and you can feel his warm breath against your lips. Your backpack falls to the floor. No matter how many times you’ve had sex with Jisung, he’s never been one for intimate kissing in your relationship with him. Which, to you, was weird since he always tried to get playful kissing from you out of sex or even from his other friends. Sure, you’ve both kissed before, but usually it’s not very intimate.

But, he kisses you before you could say anything. His hands firmly, yet gently gripping your wrists and pinning them to the door as his lips find themselves planted against yours. His soft lips move with yours in a passionate sync, and you don’t hesitate when you kiss him back. Your hands balled into fists as Jisung presses his body against yours, both of your eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. Chills shoot through your body as Jisung’s lips capture yours in a slow, yet lust filled kiss. It’s not rushed nor sloppy, but filled with desire and crave. You let yourself melt into his kiss, his experienced lips having you succumb to him, and you could already feel yourself dripping wet from just this simple kiss.

To you, however, it wasn't so simple. You never usually get this chance to have Jisung kiss you so passionately. You never bothered to ask why, and mostly thought he didn’t want to do it because, during sex, it’s something mostly only real couples would do. Not friends with benefits. So, when his tongue meets with yours in a euphoric, blissful way, you try to savor the feeling. Knowing this might be one of few chances you’ll get to actually enjoy such a kiss, you try to make it last as long as you can.

Jisung’s lips eventually lift off of yours, but he leads a trail of firm, wet kisses down your jawline and over your neck. His tongue licking stripes up your neck as he sucks on the delicate skin. Your womanhood throbs from the feeling, and your legs press together. Jisung’s hands let go of your wrists, and you let your hands grip onto Jisung’s hair. His hands creep underneath your shirt and hoodie, lifting them up as his cold hands meet with your warm skin. His hands feel up your waist, and your head falls back, your kiss - bruised mouth opening from the bliss.

“What… What’s gotten into you tonight?” You mumble out, your arms wrapping around Jisung’s neck, pressing him further against you as his hands firmly brush over your ass and up your back.

Jisung’s lips brush against the lobe of your ear and he chuckles deeply, sending chills through you and you let out a pathetic whimper because of it, “Can’t I do something for a friend?” He says this in just above a whisper, his voice deeper and huskier than normal. And then he goes back to pressing kisses underneath your ear, trailing down your neck, moving one hand up to move your hair out of the way.

You don’t argue with him, and you let him dominate you.

Jisung pulls off your hoodie along with your tee shirt. Pulling you away from the door as he throws the articles of clothing to the side. He guides you to his bed, having you lay down on your back as Jisung pulls himself over you. Trapping you underneath him, and your hands fly to the sides of your head, succumbing to him. Jisung pushes himself down, now pressing kisses to your collarbone and over your chest. One hand fumbling with the straps of your bra, pushing them down your shoulders before they tamper with the clip.

Jisung doesn’t even hesitate to rip off your bra, and throw it alongside the other articles of clothing (most of which landed on Jeongin’s bed, and you would do something about it if you weren’t so caught up in the moment with Jisung). You let in a deep, sharp inhale when your warm breasts make contact with the cool air. Jisung looks down at you, examining your exposed breasts before his eyes flicker up to meet yours. Your face is flushed a beautiful pink, and Jisung stares at your face, loving the flustered expression you’re making before his head dips down. One hand flying up to cup one breast, his hands moving efficiently and swiftly as he firmly massages it. His lips kissing down your other breast before his tongue makes contact with your erect bud.

You emit a breathy moan as chills run through your body as Jisung suckles on one breast while his hand plays with the other. His thumb running over and pressing against the hard bud as he firmly massages your breast in circles. His tongue working wonders over your sensitive nipple, and your teeth capture your bottom lip in between them as your hands run through his hair, letting out soft whimpers here and there when he sucks harshly on your breast or pinches your nipple.

“Jisung… Oh, you’re gonna make me pay you back for this, aren’t you?” You breathe out, and Jisung chuckles against you. His tongue pressing against your nipple, and his eyes look up to meet yours.

Once he lets go, your back arches when your breast, which was once warm in the cavern of Jisung’s mouth and tongue, meets the cold air. “You think so lowly of me, baby.” Jisung presses kisses along your chest, going lower and lower, and you watch him with dark, lust filled eyes.

“I’m usually the one blowing you off, Jisung - ah,” you state, “It’s not like you to - mmh…! - do things like this.” The back of your hand presses against your lips as they press into a firm line, trying to hold back whimpers as Jisung’s fingers start to undo the buttons of your jeans. His lips pressing kisses to the bottom of your abdomen; a sensitive area, and it sends sparks of chills up your spine.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” Jisung breathes out, lips still pressed against your skin as he speaks, his dark eyes flickering up to meet with yours, “Don’t think too much into it. Just let me make you feel good, alright?” You nod quickly, your mouth closing and your hips lift with Jisung’s hands as he slowly pulls off your jeans. “That’s my good girl. My good little (Y/N).” He chuckles darkly, and you whimper softly at both the feeling of your soaked panties meeting the cold air and from Jisung’s praise.

Your thighs are on either side of his head, and Jisung’s hands guide them apart, spreading you out for him. And, boy, is it a sight for sore eyes. Jisung occasionally looking up at you, the eye contact making you even wetter from just the intensity of his eyes. His breath fans your clothed cunt, and your hips jitter and twitch just from that. Jisung cooes at your sensitivity. He knows you’re sensitive, but since things are usually rushed, he’s never really taken the chance to slowly edge you on. “My baby girl is so sensitive and I haven’t even touched her pussy…”

Jisung’s finger makes contact with your clothed cunt, pressing against your labia and firmly pressing up and over your clit. Your hips stutter at the feeling, and Jisung watches you as your eyes squeeze shut and your head falls back. Your mouth opening to let out a beautiful, breathy moan.

But, you weren’t prepared for when Jisung pulls off your panties, his hands having to fly up to stop your thighs from slamming against either side of his head. “Ah - ah - ah… keep your legs spread for me.” He guides your legs back, spread apart and resting against the sheets. A slight burn on your inner thighs from the stretch. You watch Jisung as one arm wraps around one of your thighs, his other hand caressing your other thigh, and he presses a wet kiss on your inner thigh. Dangerously close to your exposed pussy. And, oh, how exposed you feel. Usually, you both do quickies in bathrooms or the car or somewhere where you have to put your clothes back on quickly. You’re never, usually, completely nude in front of him. So you couldn’t deny that you were a bit embarrassed by how exposed you were to him.

Your head flies back, and you finally let out your first vocal moan when Jisung’s mouth comes in contact with your pussy. His tongue pressing against your wet cunt and his lips kissing your folds. Jisung smirks against you, his tongue working wonders on your throbbing cunt. His warm mouth engulfing your cunt, and your hands brush through his hair. Gripping onto either his hair or the sheets by you as Jisung’s tongue lickes stripes up your labia, occasionally teasing your sensitive, aching clit.

Your moans get even louder when one of Jisung’s fingers begins to tease your entrance, his mouth now more focused on your clit. His middle finger slowly enters you, and you clench around him. “Oh, fuck, Jisunggie… That feels so good.” You whimper out as Jisung’s knuckles meet with you, as his finger is fully flush inside of you. Your warmth engulfing his finger, clenching around him, looking for something more. He chuckles against you, his tongue still licking up your clit, sometimes pressing sloppy kisses to it. His finger slowly begins to thrust in and out of you. More of a slow drag than a thrust.

Your mind fogs as Jisung slowly begins to add more and more fingers, his pace still slow, but fast enough to make you whimper delicately when his fingers hit a certain spot deep inside your wet, warm walls. His other hand gripping your thigh firmly, but not firm enough to leave a mark of any kind. You gently moan out his name, and it only seems to give him more and more confidence to be just a little bit rougher, but still being euphorically slow and steady.

However, it’s when he sucks gently on your clit and roughly drags three fingers out, stretching you out, before letting them roughly ram back into you, hitting your G - Spot, when you feel your climax nearing. Your back arches, and your hands grip the sheet by your head tightly as you let out a moan, “Ji… Baby, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Your bottom lip becomes captured in between your teeth as your hips begin to stutter and twitch, bucking up into Jisung, but his free hand tries to hold you down. He didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t even look up at you. His brows furrow, focused solely on your climax. He doesn’t slow down either. He only speeds up. Sucking on your clit while his fingers thrust into you.

When your climax hits, you let out a string of loud moans, both incoherent curse words and Jisung’s name. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your mouth opens. Your back arching off of the bed as you cum on Jisung’s fingers. His fingers rut slowly into you, twisting and pressing against your G - Spot. His tongue presses against your clit to helpL: you ride out your high.

His lips detach from your throbbing pussy, and his fingers slowly pull out of you. His fingers coated in your cum. Jisung takes a moment to catch his breath. He looks up at you, and you're still coming back from your orgasm, the sense of overwhelming bliss. Jisung climbs up, trapping you under him once more. Your legs still spread for him, and Jisung pulls you into another kiss.

You can taste yourself on his tongue. It’s bitter, but you don’t care. You don’t care for how gross it may be, you just want to kiss him. You just want all of him.

Your arms wrap around his neck, and Jisung’s hands caress your thighs, “Oh, baby, I’m going to fuck you so good… You want that? Want me to fuck you, baby girl?”

Your head leans back and Jisung’s lips graze over your neck, “Yes, Jisung. I want you to fuck me hard… Want you to fill me, please. Please, Jisung, I need you so bad.”

Jisung smirks, already pulling down his sweats, “I fucking love how you beg for me. Only for me.” You moan out in response. Jisung finally lets his hard cock free, and it presses to his abdomen. Leaking with precum, just from eating you out. The tip is a pretty pink, and you bask in the thought how you, alone, can make him so hard. Jisung gets on his knees, and you watch how he takes a condom from his nightstand drawer and rips it open. Preparing his cock into it before his tip presses against your cunt, still sensitive from your last orgasm.

“You ready for me, baby?” Jisung asks, moving your hips up to align with his cock, which is barely pressing against your entrance. You nod frantically, the only thing coursing through your mind being how badly you want Jisung’s cock inside you. How ready you are for him. “Use your words, (Y/N).”

“Yes… Goddamn it, Jisung, just fuck me already, please. I need it so bad,” You whimper out, irritated by the emptiness inside you.

Jisung laughs darkly, “Feisty, now are we? I like your pride, (Y/N), but I’ll be sure to shut you up, got it?” And, without warning, Jisung presses into you. Your hand flies up to cover your mouth as Jisung’s hard cock slowly drags deeper and deeper into you. Filling you to the brim, and stretching you out more than his fingers ever could. Jisung’s hand grips your wrist, pinning it to the bed, “No, no. I want to hear your voice. Wanna hear your pretty moans as I break you.”

Jisung is slow, painfully slow at first. You’re wondering how he could hold back, since he usually tends to fuck you like no tomorrow. Jisung slowly drags himself out, feeling your walls clench around him, before pushing himself back in. His head dips down to watch his cock disappear into your soaking pussy, and he lets out small groans as you let out breathy moans with each thrust. “Ji… Jisung - ah… Faster, please.” Jisung looks up at you, a smirk edging on his lips before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“As you wish, (Y/N),” and so he followed through with your plea, and slowly started to pick up speed. His forehead presses against the side of your head as your legs wrap around his waist, allowing him to get even deeper inside you. With every thrust, you can feel his tip meet your cervix, and it’s such an intense feeling, you could cum right there with just enough force. But, you want this to last. You want to savor this moment for as long as you can.

Soon enough, Jisung flips you over, pressing the side of your face into the mattress as he gets on his knees. He leans over you, pressing his chest against your back and moves your hair to the side to give himself the access he needs to press wet kisses to the back of your neck, sending chills down your spine as he enters you once more. His hands grip your wrists as he groans into your neck, your loud moans muffled by the pillow below you as Jisung rams into you. His cock moving fast against your walls, giving such a blissful, burning sensation inside you that you want even more of. His hips meet over and over again with your ass as he thrusts into you. Your moans echo through the room, and at this point, you don’t care if anyone overheard you.

“Oh, fuck, baby. God, I love your pussy so much,” Jisung moans out next to your ear, and you don’t have the stability to respond to him, only with pathetic moans falling out of your lips. “Drivin’ me goddamn crazy…” Jisung grumbles as he sits himself up. His hands gripping your hips firmly to move you with him, sending you back with his thrusts as he fucks himself into you.

You can tell when Jisung is nearing his climax, because instead of his usual rhythmic thrusts, his hips begin to stagger and twitch, and his moans rise in pitch and get louder in volume. When he nears his climax, you can feel another one climbing up for you, mostly from the pure oversensitivity from your last orgasm. “Oh my fucking god… Oh fuck, cum with me, (Y/N). Cum with me.” He moans out his words, and your voice gets higher as your back arches once more, meeting your climax. Jisung leans over you again, his forehead resting on the back of your neck as his hands tightly grip your hips as he cums at last into the condom.

“Fucking hell… that was so good,” you breath out, trying to catch your breath. Jisung takes his time to relax his overworked muscles by leaning over you. He takes a minute before he pulls himself up and out of you. Your hips fall, and you wipe off the sweat as Jisung ties off the condom and gets up, tossing it into the bin.

He gets up, going over to his dresser to grab a towel. He cleans you up silently, and you watch him with curious eyes.

The moment he turns away to toss the towel into a hamper, you get up and walk over to Jeongin’s bed to grab the clothes Jisung had thrown onto it. You pick up your bra and shirt, and you barely even notice Jisung behind you before he speaks, “Are you leaving?”

“Don’t you want me to?” You look over to Jisung, who’s now wearing a pair of boxers and nothing more. He’s standing close behind you. You don’t mind the close proximity.

Jisung shakes his head, “No… Stay here tonight. Jeongin won't be back till the weekend.” Your mouth falls ajar slightly, surprised by his words. You pull your shirt over your head and put it on, and Jisung watches you.

“Alright… I’ll stay,” you sigh, and Jisung smiles down at you softly. You turn to face him, your brows furrowed, “But, seriously, what has gotten into you? You’re a bit more… intimate tonight. Didn’t really expect that.”

“What? Can’t I do something for you?” Jisung teasingly smirks at you.

“Well… yeah, but I just didn’t expect you… to do that.” You mumble out, and Jisung laughs.

“Kiss you like that?”

“Yeah.” You shrug a shoulder, “You know what, let’s not think too much into it. I’m tired.” You sigh, and Jisung laughs softly, shaking his head. You climb into his bed, pulling his blanket over you as Jisung turns off the lights and climbs in right next to you. Pressing his chest against your back, and one of his arms wraps around your waist. His chin resting on top of your head. Your heart hammers against your chest, and you try to calm yourself so he wouldn’t hear it. But, it seems impossible. Jisung’s acting weird today, and you want to find out why.

But, the answer comes sooner than you imagined.

“I don’t think we’ll be doing this much longer.”

Your eyes snap open, and your brows furrow. “What… did you say?”

“I said… I don’t think we’ll be doing this much longer,” Jisung repeats, a bit louder than before. You had heard him loud and clear the first time, but it shocked you, “I… I dunno, (Y/N). There’s this girl. And… I really… really like her. God, I sound like a middle schooler, don’t I?” He chuckles, but you don’t respond to him. You stare at the darkness, and Jisung clears his throat awkwardly when he realizes that you’re not responding. His arm squeezes you tightly. “If things work out, we can’t do this anymore.”

“Who is it?”

“Huh?”

“Who is it.”

Jisung chuckles again, and you can tell he’s getting nervous. Whatever the reason is, you don’t know. Maybe he can tell that you’re irritated with this news, “You know that one girl in your political science class? Jun Chunae. It’s her.” You hold back a groan, and roll your eyes. Of course it’s Chunae, “She and I have been hanging out recently. And, god, I think I really like her, (Y/N).”

“Of course,” you scoff, and Jisung props himself up to look at you through the darkness, “Of fuckin’ course it’s Chunae. Always Jun Chunae. That’s why you invited me over, wasn’t it? That’s why you treated me so well tonight, because it’s one of the last times, huh?”

“No, that’s not… that’s not what I’m saying,” Jisung says slowly, as if dipping toes in dangerous waters.

“Don’t lie to me, Jisung,” you snap, “I know you. You don’t like to kiss me before, during or even after sex. You just don’t. You don’t take it slow and you don’t even usually bother to pleasure me. I get it now. It’s not a problem, I’m just a bit upset that you lied to me.”

“And how the fuck did I lie to you,” Jisung doesn’t even ask it, it’s more of a demand. You can hear how he’s getting angry right back at you.

“You said you wanted to do something special for me. You said that this was supposed to be special. But, it’s not. Just for you to cut things off.” You sit up and push Jisung’s arm off of you. You scramble off of the bed, and Jisung laughs bitterly.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N). You’re overreacting,” you can hear Jisung’s smile in his voice, but you don’t smile. You don’t even bother with your underwear and just throw your jeans on. You turn on the light and slip on your shoes. Jisung’s expression falls, “Wait, (Y/N), don’t leave.” You turn back to give him a dead glare, and Jisung brows crease in desperation.

“I don’t think it’s necessary for me to be here if you’re going to start chasing after Chunae, don’t you think?” You say and sling your backpack over your shoulders.

“But, if you just wait a little bit longer… I can…”

“You can what, Jisung?” You turn to face him.

“I…” Jisung trails off.

“Goodnight, Jisung. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You unlock the door and open it, “Thanks for the special night.”

Jisung gives up, and plops back onto the bed as you slam the door behind you.

Now you were really considering arson. And not just for the school, but to just burn down Jun Chunae.

You weren’t in love with Han Jisung. But a part of you was beginning to debate that.

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years ago

Text

Guns Ain’t a Plague

I wrote some version of this story over and over. This is the version I apparently emailed to a friend in 2013 and just rediscovered in my inbox. I am staring at this and realizing how long ago 2013 was now. Oh my gosh.

Background: I was already very much all about post-apocalyptic stuff, but this takes place in a world entirely unlike - and yet strikingly like - our own. In a world where war and disease once tore the land apart, an isolated, caged city of children struggles to survive.

Until one decides to leave.

Oh man somewhere in my stuff I have all my old maps and descriptions of the different countries and the war and... I wrote so much stuff for this universe/storyline...

The young woman crouched where the last of the road crumbled into broken stone. It had been crushed when they exited the city, taking their horses and carriages, doctors and soldiers and history, with them. Her feet were bare and she dug her toes into the warm red earth between the cracked rock. The muscles in her legs tensed, she placed one hand for balance on the ground.

She would have to run like wind if she was going to survive this.

“Don’t,” came Tor’s familiar voice behind her. She jumped up, wondering why she was even surprised he had followed her. She had, after all, been the one to teach him how to do it. She turned around, to look him in the eye, heart aching at the idea that if she didn’t time this just right, she would never see him again.

“Ed,” The boy said in the same pleading tone, hands held out to grab her, “don’t. You can’t even think it. You’ll die, same as they all do!”

Ed rolled her eyes and shot him a baleful glare, but she was bluffing and they both knew it. The toughness fell off of her face almost immediately, and she grabbed the much younger boy, pulling him into a fierce hug.

The two of them looked so alike that they seemed mirrored, almost, the teenager and the adult just barely ten years older than him. Ed’s skin was the same dusky red-brown as Tor’s, their hair the same rich black. It even hung in the same small twists, cut short and close to their heads, although Tor’s was cut a little longer. The only difference was in their ages and in their eyes. Ed’s eyes were a deep, rich pure brown, but Tor’s were green.

Ed thought she was somewhere near twenty-five; no one was completely sure on ages here. She knew Tor had been something like two when she’d found him; herself a ragged orphan, hearing him crying from two buildings over and simply taking him home. It was better than letting him die.

“I should’ve known you’d follow me,” She said, shaking her head. “And if you’re here… Jedder came too, didn’t he?”

“I run faster’n Jedder,” Tor said, clinging to her even harder. His arms around her waist felt like they were crushing her organs and she attempted to try and loosen his grip, with no luck. “Don’t die, Ed!”

“Won’t die, Tor,” she replied. “Don’t think I will anyway. How long they been standin’ there, those towers? Ten years now? Every gun’s got to run out of bullets sometime, right?”

“Not those guns.” Torrin gestured at the small turret towers stationed every twenty feet or so as far as they both could see around the place designated as the ‘edge’ of the city. Wherever roads had gone any farther, they had been smashed to bits until the towers were up. It felt like a river of grass, weeds, broken rock and bone surrounded them, surrounded this whole ruined city, a city that no living person had ever seen before it was a pile of ghosts and disease.

Ed, for a moment, allowed her grip on Tor to be as tight as his grip on her.

“Besides,” he continued with his face still pushed against her shoulder, head still tucked just under her chin. “who’s gonna feed us if you’re dead? Who’s gonna take care of us? You always take care of us, Eddi! Always. Since everybody died you take care of us. You can’t just stop ‘cause your feet got itchy.”

“Tor, you know damn well that ain’t why I want to try this time. We can’t stay here forever. This place is full of us, we can’t keep enough food to go on livin’ like this. It’s been over a hundred years since this city fell, by my parents’ reckoning, since they just left everyone to die. Left a city full of kids with a bunch of dead bodies and bullets, fat lot of good it’s doin’ us now. The Oracle and her folk may like this place, an’ the Keepers may think we’re stuck here carin’ for the dead, but I think… I think somebody needs to get out and prove we still exist.”

There were footsteps behind them and they turned, almost as one, with Tor’s hand still twisted in Ed’s shirt.

The sweaty, fast-breathing young man who came running up to them was not like them in the slightest. His skin and hair were the same flat and dull gray-white. Compared to Tor and Ed, his arms seemed too long, he was too skinny, his hands and feet just a mite too big to be human. His eyes were unsettling to everyone but his little chosen family; wide and far apart, set on a diagonal line in his face, they were black. He broke into a relieved smile at seeing them both standing there. “Eddi! Tor caught up with you then. He runs faster’n me!”

“That’s what I said!” Tor was entirely too proud of himself. Ed bit her lip to stop from chiding him for it.

Jedder stopped, leaning over to lean his hands flat on his thighs to try and stop gasping quite so much.

“’Course he does. Plesalka never could run to save your lives,” Ed said with a responding smile and managed to extricate her shirt from Tor’s grasp. She turned back to survey the turrets again. Old and rusting over time, evidence of Plesalka scientific genius, the kind of machines and creations that neither Letenje like Ed and Tor or the Teci had ever been able to match. Their last apology for their part in this before the Exile began.

She knew about the reason those turrets existed only her parents had hoarded the scribble writings of their own ancestors; her great-great grandmother had been alive to witness the Plague and the death, had survived long enough to make sure her children were as protected as possible.

In the end, there was only so much protection to give; scarcity of food and resources meant that no one had a very long life span here.

It was one of the reasons she was so aware of her need to leave.

“I’m going to try whether you two like it or not. I’m going to try on my own, got it? And if I make it over that rise to the other side, I will shut those turrets down somehow. I’ll bash ‘em in with one of those twisted hunks of metal lyin’ all over the damn place. Once they’re broken, you two can get over and we can leave together. We’re not gonna die here where they left all of us, thinkin’ we’d be gone eventually.” Old grief twisted in her heart; she’d lost both her parents when she was 12, when they had gone out scavenging and been caught in the middle of a battle between the old Oracle’s gang and other Scavs like them. It had been a long, lonely, horrible year before she’d found Jedder.

She crouched down again, curling her fingers around one of the broken pieces of the road here at the edge. It was heavier than it looked, warm from the constant rays of the sun. Even with the lean muscle she’d picked up in ten years of scavenging everything she ate she left out a small grunt of effort as she threw it straight at the closest turret. She missed by a long arc. The gun did not respond or move to follow the stone’s movement. “They’re gettin’ worse. They used to shoot the rocks, too.”

Jedder and Tor shared a look behind her back, unsure of what to do. Jedder, at fifteen, was still nine years Ed’s junior and Tor at twelve was a full twelve years younger. She had been as much a mother to them as a teenage girl could be when she’d found them. Jedder had been found first, a little Scav just barely staying alive by stealing from the gangs, unwelcome like all Plesalka were… Tor just two years old, crying inside a makeshift nursery, his parents dead on the floor and all their food stores stolen. She had taken them in, even knowing Jedder being Plesalka would make it harder on them.

No one ever stopped being angry, especially since in a century the stories to explain what had happened had gotten weirder and more elaborate as told by the remaining survivors. Even the truth made it hard to forgive either the Plesalka or the Teci for what they had created, what they had done in their war on each other… even if kids like Jedder were so far removed from those events as to be a whole separate people by now.

“Eddi,” Tor said, and now his voice was starting to take on a edge of nagging worry, “Eddi, what if this doesn’t work and you die?”

“Then you and Jedder go on livin’,” Ed replied without looking back at them.

She was surveying all possible obstacles between her and the turrets. Rocks. Weeds.

Bodies.

The last made her shudder, made the already roiling pit of nervousness that was her stomach threaten to riot up her meager lunch. Some of the bodies out here weren’t even bodies anymore. It was mostly bones left for her to look at, though now and then she could see evidence of newer deaths. Some kids still went crazy and made a run for it. She herself probably counted as crazy, just to be thinking about it. Still. There was a lot of bone out here. A lot of dead people dumped here at the edge to warn away anyone who might see them, to keep visitors out, to keep the descendents of Pohroma citizens in.

Barefoot, you want to run through a burial ground, she thought, wondering if it would be the last thing she did. “I’ve taught you both how to live if you lost me. If you think you can’t stick it out just the two of you, well, the other Plesalka that’re still alive would take Jedder in, if he went to them. Tor, you know the Oracle or the Keepers would have you. They could keep you safe. Don’t you dare join up with any of the Scav gangs, though.”

“We want you,” Jedder said stubbornly. “Besides, even if you died we’d just stick together. We don’t know any other way to be but the three of us.”

“Then you better be prayin’ to somebody’s god I don’t die now, because I’m going to do this.” She didn’t wait for their response but just launched herself forward with all the speed her legs could give her. Not being able to crouch down and prepare first had only cost her half a second, but nonetheless she felt a rush of fear that it would be a half-second too many.

She felt Tor’s fingers clutch the back of her shirt, but he couldn’t get a grip and she twisted away from him easily, running like the devil was at her heels.

There was a rusty shrieking coming from turrets that had been left abandoned, not repaired or even touched in almost twenty years. The sound filled the air, coming from nearly ten turrets who were all slowly, inexorably pointing in her direction as she ran. Birds, having made nests in the openings, took to the air in a sudden frenzy of wings and shrieking birdcalls. For a moment, the sky was dark with them.

Ed ran.

She dodged larger rocks and the corpses of both people and animals shot dead by the turrets. Dogs, rats, foxes, cats, people… all just empty bones, she told herself, trying not to let her feet even brush them as she went past.

She ran.

She caught a glint and looked up, realizing that she could see the sun shining off all the metal casing on the ground for every bullet these huge guns had ever fired. She was caught by the shine of them just long enough to distract her.

And she tripped.

She had to have tripped on a rock, she could feel the rough of it scrape all the way down from mid-calf to her ankle as she fell and went rolling, coming to a halt only when she hit another big chunk of rock a few feet away. The breath was knocked out of her and she could only gasp, frozen, realizing that the horrible groaning of the moving metal had finally come to an end.

She looked up, and was looking directly up the barrel of one of the turrets, and it was aiming at her. She could not move. She thought of her parents, long dead from the violence in this city. She thought of finding Tor at two years old, Jedder at the time the only one who keep the little toddler from crying all the time. She thought of how they had lived the last ten years as a family, kept each other safe. She thought of every time she had ever seen a wild animal gunned down by these turrets, ripped to absolute shreds by the bullets.

She flinched at the sudden click of the gun.

Click?

It echoed, bouncing off against the walls and back again and at least twenty of the turrets were clicking in a chorus and Ed began, despite the aftermath of adrenaline still pumping, to laugh.

The sound of her laughter was something just below a scream, hysterical and echoing, bouncing off against the old stone walls behind Tor and Jedder, making them jump.

It took some effort and her ankle ached in a way that told her this victory wasn’t coming to her without some price to pay, but she began to hobble back to Jedder and Tor, arms out to them, spread as wide as her smile.

“They’re empty!” She called out above the noise. “Every single one!”

Only a moment of hesitation, a look of pure relief shared between the two boys, and then they came pounding across the earth until they could throw their arms around her, the both of them at once.

“They’re empty,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Tor’s head, to the fuzzy twists of his hair, before turning to lean her forehead against Jedder’s cheek. “I knew it. They never did come back to replace ‘em, not since before I was born, at least my da said. They had to run out sooner or later.” She squeezed the two of them even tighter, then finally let them go. Reluctantly, they let go of her as well.

“Empty,” she said one more time, savoring the taste of the word.

“So we can go,” Jedder breathed out. “We can leave. I don’t. I’ve never been outside the city. No one has. We don’t even know if there’s other people out there or if everyone died in the Plague, if it hit other places, too.”

“I don’t think it did,” Tor said, thoughtfully. “Cause otherwise why would they have had to send people to keep us locked in by replacin’ bullets, ever?” Curling his fingers in Ed’s patched and worn shirt, he shook his head. “Bet there’s a whole world full of people out there. Maybe they don’t even know about us.”

Ed smiled, but it was a smile entirely without humor.

“Let’s go show the bastards we’re still alive.”

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princess-of-the-corner · 5 years ago

Text

Okay, thinking of more ways for Marinette and Adrien to handle the Lila situation in some sort of standard ‘salt fic’, though the salt quickly turns to sugar:

Between Adrien learning that Lila isn’t just telling grand-but -harmless stories, learning that she threatened Marinette, and having to deal with Lila coming onto him constantly, Adrien has had enough.

He decides they have to do something, but he knows calling Lila out won’t help. Not because she doesn’t deserve it, or because ‘she could be Akumatized again’. No, it’s because Lila is good at coming up with things on the fly and would turn everyone against both of them if they tried.

Adrien’s solution? Fake Dating AU.

His idea is that he an Marinette pretend to be together for a while. At least until Lila is done with.

Adrien does admit it’s a bit much, and he doesn’t like lying like that either, but Lila is very much not taking ‘no I think you’re terrible’ for an answer. He’s just that desperate and kinda trapped since he can’t find a way to reject her publicly without backlash.

Like, he’s tried to tell other people that Lila hanging off him makes him uncomfortable, but that’s met with ‘well you let Chloé hang off you all the time so why’s this different?’. And when he says that Chloé is a friend and has permission, people get all ‘well isn’t Lila your friend too?’, and he can’t call her out because of previously mentioned fuckery.

But him getting a girlfriend is a good way to at least get Lila away from him. Or at the very least it will have everyone else go ‘look, the man has a girlfriend. Even if you supposedly don’t think of him as a potential boyfriend, you probably should lay off the touchy-feely-thing.’

he says it also gives them an excuse to hang out more often.

Marinette is conflicted for so many reasons. But in the end, she swallows down her anxiety and tells him that she shouldn’t do it because she has a crush on him.

She’s legit like ‘this is probably the worst way to find out but...’.

While the ‘Fake Dating AU’ idea could work, it would be unfair because then she’d be the girl with a crush all up on him.

Adrien is very flustered by the confession, and feels really guilty about putting her in that position.

He’s more concerned about how it would’ve been hurting her to ‘be so close yet so far’ and all that.

At this point he’s like ‘okay this was a dumb idea let’s figure something else out.

Marinette suggests he ask someone else. Like Kagami or even Chloé, or just go and ask out that ‘other girl he likes’ for real and date her.

Adrien kinda flounders on why he chose Marinette instead of Kagami. I mean, the real reason is that he is already into Mari and would like to actually date her, but he’s very much in denial. “just a friend” my ass!

He also can’t pretend to go with Chloé for several reasons.

The biggest is that while she can overact about liking him, the two of them would be very uncomfortable pretending to be an actual couple.

There’s also the fact that it wouldn’t be believable since he ‘turned her down so often’.

Obviously Adrien doesn’t tell Mari that the ‘other girl’ he likes is Ladybug, but he explains that it’s a complicated situation

he also mentions that she rejected him, and that he also needs to talk to her. Because while it’s no where near the same as the Lila situation, he had been a bit pushy about flirting after rejection.

After a long conversation, they end up still going through with it.

Adrien tells Marinette that she’s allowed to back out at any time. If it gets too painful for her. He’d accept the brunt of whatever fallout their ‘breakup’ is.

Marinette tells him that he is the one to set most of the boundaries on how far she can go with the ‘being a girlfriend’ thing. Because obviously they have to act the part and be all cutesy, but she doesn’t want to force him into anything.

He trusts her to not take advantage of the situation.

The next day at school is wild.

Adrien kisses Mari on the cheek and she just lets out this high-pitched noise. Luckily he finds this endearingly adorable instead of weird.

Alya sees this and is begging for details. As is the rest of the class, really.

After the initial announcement everyone kinda holds their breath and braces for loud noises. When it’s just quiet, they all look over at Chloé.

Chloé looks up from texting to be like ‘What? Oh, right. You hurt him and I’ll kick your ass.”

Of course my girl is in on this plan.

TBH one of the constants with me is that she pretends to be ‘madly in love’ with Adrien for various reasons, but she does care about him a lot so she supports whatever relationship he wants to go for

also, another constant with me is Chloé figuring out everyone’s identities so you know. She double supports this.

And then we have Lila. She is very pissed. Not just because of Adrien being ‘off the market’, but because it was Marinette of all people. So she does what she does best. She lies. Fortunately for Mari, some are a bit too unbelievable, and others she has Adrien to be an alibi for.

She claims she ‘recently developed a small crush on Adrien and Marinette is obviously doing this just to hurt her!’. The class is like ‘nah Mari’s been in love with him for like a year. Lila covers this lie with ‘oh I didn’t know about that. I was just concerned because she doesn’t like me and this happened now...’

She brings up that she saw Mari out with another guy, and Adrien says ‘no we were out that day’ or ‘we were on video call’. Lila covers this by saying that she must’ve just seen a girl that looks like her.

She says Mari ‘confronted her in the bathroom at lunch about all this and totally threatened her to stop!’. Too bad she didn’t realize that Mari and Adrien were out to lunch off-campus. This one is a bit harder to lie out of, but people don’t realize everything is a lie, just that this might be.

Lila then brings in the ‘big guns’, telling Gabriel.

She informs him about the relationship, saying that Marinette is just horrible, and is only interested in Adrien because he’s Gabriel’s son and it would easily further her career.

Of course, while Gabriel isn’t aware of all of Lila’s bullshit(like her harassment of Adrien), he does know that she lies about things.

He also knows that Marinette doesn’t need to use a relationship with Adrien to further her career, as she’s already gotten the attention of himself and a few other celebrities.

However, now that Gabriel is aware of the relationship, he tells Adrien to bring Marinette over so they can formally meet.

There’s panic from the class when Adrien tells Mari about this, and of course she panics.

But by the end of the night she and Gabriel actually get along, having gone on a tangent and talked Fashion for literal hours, and the relationship has the ‘Gabriel Seal Of Approval™’

Lila is internally screaming.

As all this continues, Adrien is having a lot of realizations.

He’s getting very into the role as Marinette’s boyfriend. A little too into it. Like, even Mari is like ‘okay keep doing that and I’ll start to wonder whether this is acting or not’, because he’s still being sweet and affectionate even when they’re somewhere alone and don’t have to play the parts.

And then there’s the things everyone else is saying. Like, all of his friends are like ‘glad you finally realized you love her’. When he asks what they mean, they give this long list of things that ‘were obvious signs you loved her’.

Basically he realizes he was in love with Marinette the whole time. He goes over everything to try and pinpoint when this happened and ends up pretty much at the very beginning with the umbrella.

Adrien is having a Crisis™. So he does the only thing he can think of: wait until he can be Chat Noir and talk to Ladybug.

Chat tells her that while he is still in love with her, he also seems to have fallen for this other girl.

Ladybug says ‘look, I’ll admit that while I have the other guy, I might’ve fallen for you if I hadn’t fallen for him. But two heroes dating is dangerous and all.’. She suggests he asks out the other girl.

Chat admits that might be difficult, and explains that he and this girl are ‘fake dating’ for reasons. But in the end he’s encouraged to be honest about all this.

Ladybug’s also a little unnerved by this situation being a little too similar to her own, but brushes it off as coincidence.

Adrien takes a day or two to get his courage up, and talks to Marinette about it

Explains that while it had started as ‘fake dating’, he realized he actually does like her like that.

Mari’s a little worried that it’s just him feeling like that because they’ve been acting the part

But he explains that no, he’s been feeling this way for quite a while and this was just the thing to make him realize

So now they’re real dating and are 10x as obnoxious. Chloé is the only one who knows why the dynamic shifted, but everyone else is a little confused.

Of course we’re eventually going to have a reveal.

During the next Akuma attack, Chat Noir saves Marinette and takes her somewhere safe, saying ‘Okay honey, stay here and don’t get into trouble bye love you’. And kisses her on the cheek

Marinette.exe has stopped working

Chat is half-way down the block before he’s like ‘wait FUCK*

They have a talk later and Mari’s like “you’re an idiot but I love you. Obviously I love you. I fell in love with you twice like an idoit.’

Adrien’s like ‘aw, babe you had a crush on me’?

Mari just replies with ‘you fell in love with me twice too so shut up!’.

She then tells him that she’s Ladybug and Adrien.exe has stopped working

They somehow get more obnoxious

The LadyNoir flirt banter gets worse, but for the most part they can wait until out of costume to be actually romantic.

Adrienette interactions have begun to mirror the LadyNoir flirt banter. Everyone is confused again.

Things are fine for a while but then Lila stirs something up again.

She manages to get a picture of Marinette kissing Chat and shows it to the class. Yikes.

Mari lets Adrien handle this which is a bad idea

He’s just like ‘Obviously we decided that Heroes are free game. I mean, who wouldn’t want to make out with a superhero?’.

Marinette rolls with it and turns to Nino and Alya like ‘You get it, right? I mean, Nino, if Rena Rouge showed up and asked to make out, you would go for it, right?”

Alya and Nino kinda hesitantly agree. Like, the expressions Mari and Adrien give them makes them wonder if they know… but it’s not possible…

They then make it worse, Adrien saying ‘I’d love to have Ladybug show up at my window one night’. Mari then asks him ‘What if it’s Rena or Carapace?’. Adrien pauses, gives his best cat grin, and says ‘You talking one or the other or both?’

They then go off on a tangent, joking about making out with the various other heroes. Most of which are currently in the room, and have no idea how to handle this.

Eventually Chloé joins in the joking, asking ‘What, no love for Queen Bee?’. Adrien isn’t sure how to respond, but Marinette just grins and says ‘That depends on if you get the Bee again or not, now doesn’t it?”/ Chloé is not flustered and low-key screaming.

Alya and Nino ask for a double date the next weekend.

While out somewhere quiet, they confront Mari and Adrien about being Ladybug and Chat Noir. They’re all ‘idk what you mean! Why ever would you think that?”

They’re not buying that. They keep pushing and eventually they’re like ‘okay fine you’re right can we get back to dinner now?’

Cue freaking out

also cue them asking about that ‘making out with heroes’ thing. Marinette and Adrien kinda admit that while they might be Disaster Bis and open to the potential, they were mostly saying it to fuck with everyone.

Then Alya remembers ‘wait, fuck Lila!’.

She connects the dots that if Mari is Ladybug and Mari hates Lila then Lila is lying about being bffs with Ladybug and probably everything else too

Mari is a little salty about the whole situation, but knows that Lila is convincing

They come clean about the whole situation. How they both knew Lila was lying from day one, how she threatened Marinette, how Adrien was scared that speaking up would turn everyone against him too since they could turn against Mari so easily, how Lila’s harassment led to the ‘fake dating’, and how that turned to real dating.

There are a lot of apologies. There’s even more apologies because they discuss this with the rest of the class. Obviously for now they keep the ‘Mari and Adrien are Ladybug and Chat Noir’ thing secret, but they make up a half-truth of how they found out from Ladybug

There’s some debate about what to do about Lila

Pretty much everyone is ready to throwdown after hearing about how much she’s been doing behind their backs.

First thing Alya does is take down any posts involving Lila on the Ladyblog and making a new post explaining it

They also manage to talk to everyone else in school and warn them about Lila before she can even catch wind of all this

And someone just so happens to inform the teachers that perhaps they should ‘call Lila’s mom and discuss how much school she’s missing from all this ‘traveling’...’

Everyone forms an Adrien Defense Squad that is determined to keep Lila a good five feet away from him at all times.

At first, Lila literally doesn’t know what hits her

all of a sudden, everyone is ignoring her at best. The rest are glaring at her.

People don’t even apologize when they drag Adrien away from her

no one’s interested in her latest stories

The Adrien Defense Squad is also a Marinette Defense Squad, making sure that Mari has at least one person with her so that Lila can’t corner her and retaliate

her mom shows up to yell at her about how Lila lied to her about the school being closed and how she lied to the school about being traveling

Lila tries to save face around her classmates, but they’re like ‘yeah we already know’.

Of course Lila ends up Akumatized.

I mean what else is new?

Since she’s willingly an Akuma, she has pretty much complete control over her actions.

Idk what kind of Akuma she is this time. Maybe one with an actual hypnotic voice or something?

Anyway, she goes nuts. Eventually, Lila goes to far. Maybe it’s something she does or says, maybe it’s something someone accuses her of and she confesses to, either way it’s probably something involving Adrien.

At this point, suddenly, Hawkmoth recalls the Butterfly.

Lila doesn’t notice at first, just keeps going. She only notices when she’s suddenly tackled to the ground and tied up

Everyone notices how different it is, how aware she was compared to the other Akuma Victims who didn’t remember anything

They realize she was willingly Akumatized

The butterfly, however, is still there.

Lila pretty much confirms that she was willingly Akumatized when she demands it come back to her.

However, the butterfly just hovers in front of Ladybug.

Ladybug has squared up and is ready to punch a butterfly, but it doesn’t do anything.

Through a series of charades with the Butterfly…. Somehow… anyway, they learn that Hawkmoth recalled the Butterfly because he had no idea how terrible Lila was, and while he might be doing some shitty things, he has a lot of limits.

After Ladybug purifies the Butterfly and fixes whatever damage Lila caused, we have the aftermath

Lila is dealt with on several levels. The biggest thing is that even though Hawkmoth says he will no longer work with someone like her, she is to be taken out of the country just in case.

They don’t deal with Hawkmoth just yet, but he takes a break because Gabriel needs to do some parenting.

Everyone recovers from Lila’s bullshit and sorts out all the lies she told

Mari and Adrien continue dating in peace. Mostly.

Until someone decides to take up that ‘allowed to makeout with Heroes’ clause.

Overall, it’s a ‘Happily Ever After’ thing.

#miraculous ladybug #ml salt #salt turned to sugar #fake dating au

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things2mustdo · 4 years ago

Link

Last year I gave up my Krav Maga self-defense training when I was in the middle of changing jobs. I never picked it back up.

While I stay quite busy splitting my time between my three main sources of income, last month I began to feel like something was missing. I was getting too comfortable with my daily routine– bored, too.

So I decided to start training in martial arts again, this time signing up for a Muay Thai gym. It’s already reinvigorated my sense of drive across other areas of my life. Here are the top 5 reasons you should start a new hobby today.

1. It breaks up your current routine

As humans we search for a sense of regularity. We often find it in our daily activities.

For example, my days typically consist of working from home in the morning, primarily on my computer, lifting weights, and then training a few clients in the late afternoon and evening. I enjoy this routine, but flying on autopilot has its dangers.

You aren’t as sharp. Everything is too calculated and expected. By training in Muay Thai every other day I have something new to look forward to. It also has changed my lifting routine, to accommodate for the added exercise and fatigue.

2. It pushes you outside of your comfort zone

When I stepped into the Muay Thai gym for the first time I didn’t know what to expect. It was a lot different than the place I used to train Krav Maga at– more serious, less friendly even.

The seasoned fighters looked at me with a sense of superiority. And they were superior. But rather than backing down, being nervous, and quitting after one day– I took this as a challenge.

I was far from comfortable training that day. I wasn’t able to execute crisp Thai kicks or jump rope like a boss. But being too comfortable can be a bad thing. You’ll cease to explore new opportunities and your growth with falter across the board.

By throwing yourself at something new, that you’re inexperienced at, you’ll be pushed outside of your comfort zone. This is a good thing. You must stay accustomed to living at the edge of your comfort zone to ensure steady growth and progress.

3. You’ll learn new skills

This point is obvious. By taking Muay Thai, I’ll learn a host of new fighting skills.

4. It gives you a new area to set goals for

The habit of setting and achieving goals is the most important habit a man can build. By entering into a new hobby, you now have a whole new area of your life that where you can practice setting and accomplishing goals.

For my Muay Thai experience I’ll start small. My first goal is to be able to execute a Thai kick with my left and have it feel as natural as with my right. I’ll work my way up to bigger goals as I improve.

This is the beauty of starting at something from scratch. At first you’ll set one small goal after another. This cycle will build momentum, and before you know it, you’ll no longer be a novice. More importantly, this momentum will carry over to other areas of your life and give you the confidence to crush more and bigger goals.

5. You’ll meet new people

Another obvious point. When you try something new, you’re bound to meet new people. Whether these turn out to be man friends or cute girls depends on the hobby you choose, but either way meeting new people is always a positive thing.

Potential Hobbies

I’ll leave you with a short list of potential hobbies for you to try today:

1. Martial arts/self-defense: Muay Thai, Brazilian Ju-Jitsu, Krav Maga 2. Cooking 3. Salsa Dancing 4. Lifting weights (you should already be doing this) 5. Yoga 6. Writing 7. Mountain Biking

Check out my new #1 Amazon Bestseller, The Book of Alpha. It’s full of direct, actionable advice for the man who wants to better himself.

Read Next: 5 Reasons To Learn Krav Maga

Krav Maga is a self-defense system created based upon the street fighting skills of Hungarian-Israeli martial artist Imi Lichtenfeld. He used it to defend the Jewish quarter where he lived against fascist groups in the 1930s. Later, in the 40s he moved to Israel and began to offer combat training lessons to what later became the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces). The IDF has used, and continued to develop the system to this day.

The basic principle of Krav Maga is inflicting maximum damage to the opponent(s) in order to end the fight as quickly as possible. Brutal counter-attacks using your most effective tool (knees, elbows, weapons, etc.) to target your opponent’s weakest area (neck, throat, eyes, knees, ribs, solar plexus, groin, etc.) are the focus. For this reason, it is not a competitive martial arts, like Brazilian Ju-Jitsu or Muay Thai, because people would die.

When I heard that Jason Bourne uses Krav Maga (which I later found out was, in fact, not true) and that it teach gun defenses (i.e. the most alpha technique ever), I immediately signed up. I just finished 6 months of training. It is indeed awesome. Here are the top 5 reasons you should sign up for classes today:

1. You will become a badass.

Nothing boosts confidence and testosterone levels like knowing you are legitimately prepared for whatever. Very few people have any formal self-defense or fight training. As a result, in tense situations where most people lose it, you will keep your cool. If something ever does go down, you’re ready.

2. It is practical and intuitive.

Most martial arts are strongly based in ritual, and as a result often incorporate different forms or strange techniques. Krav is different. Brutal efficiency is the only concern. For this reason, many of the strikes and defenses utilize the same basic motion (e.g. the straight punch and many of the defenses against punches and knives). Moreover, all of the techniques are built upon the body’s natural instincts (e.g. bringing your hands to your neck during a choke defense).

3. It is great exercise.

Between the drills themselves and the conditioning, you are guaranteed a hell of a workout. Three minutes of throwing punches or knee strikes is exhausting. So is three minutes of burpees. Side note: The level 1 Krav test was the single most intense physical event of my life. Seriously. Three hours straight of punches, kicks, choke defenses, and groundwork is no joke. I consider myself to be is great shape and I almost vomited on multiple occasions.

4. It relieves stress.

Sure, so do most workouts, but pounding a kicking shield, or throwing your partner to the floor is a whole different ball game.

5. It is the perfect hobby.

I came to my first class with no idea how to throw a proper punch. After a couple weeks I thought I was Jason Bourne. After a couple months I realized that I wasn’t. After 6 months I look back and I am amazed at the progress I made. Experiencing this progress is extremely satisfying.

Clearly taking up Krav Maga has many benefits. One word of caution – make sure you train somewhere with certified, experienced instructors. I have seen locations that turn it into a strictly cardio exercise experience, with little focus on technique – not good. So go take advantage of that free first class, now.

Check out my new #1 Amazon Bestseller, The Book of Alpha. It’s full of direct, actionable advice for the man who wants to better himself.

Read More: The Only 2 Things A Man Can Depend On

I was born alone and I will die alone. I’ve got to do what’s right for me and not live my life the way anybody else wants it.

– Curtis Jackson

If life were a board game, you’d be the game piece.

In reality, life isn’t much different from a game. There isn’t a defined end goal, however. You get to choose it. It could be power and respect. It could simply be happiness. Or it could be more specific: money or women, for example. Whatever it is, you choose.

In a board game there are strict limitations. In life, we’re encouraged to follow laws and social norms, but for the most part we’re free to do as we choose. There are infinite paths that will take you to any goal imaginable.

Along the way you’ll deal with many people. Some will help you, others won’t. You can grow to depend on the ones that help you, but that always incurs a risk. A family member can die. A close friend can betray you. Your girl can leave you. How will you react when one of these things happens?

Playing with others is a necessary part of the game. But never depend on them. Doing so will ultimately lead to failure and disappointment.

Accept that the only two things you can ever count on are your body and your mind– your game piece. You must tend to these things like a gardener tends to his plants. Focus on improving them and facilitating their health and growth and you’ll always put yourself in the best position to win.

If some tragedy befalls a dependent man, he may sink into depression. He might feel like he’s lost all hope of accomplishing his mission in life. He might give up.

A truly independant man, however, will not. He’s prepared, on some level, for each of these tragedies. He doesn’t have a specific game plan for when his best friend betrays him, per se. But he’s put himself in a good position, both physically and mentally, that he can weather the storm. Not only can he weather the storm, but he can keep his cool and make the fine adjustments needed to get the ship back on course.

Below I’ll offer the basic tasks one must do to protect his game piece, and see it thrive.

1. Your Body

If you take care of your body, it will be strong and healthy. It will also help foster a potent mind. Yes, there’s always the rare risk of contracting some form of cancer or another deadly disease, but if you follow the steps below, you all but rule these things out.

1. Eat good food

I won’t go into specifics, because everyone’s diet will, and should, be different.

But if you focus your diet around meat, fruits, and vegetables your body will flourish. Meat provides the protein and amino acids your body needs to grow. The fruits and vegetables provide the fiber and vitamins you need to function over the long run. A man with a solid diet will respond better to stress, and therefore be more self reliant.

2. Lift weights

In short, lifting weights develops a strong nervous, muscular, and skeletal system. These are the three main systems that run your body. An efficient body is like a strong ship– it will weather the storm better and be far more dependable in your journey.

The most brutally simple and effective lifting program is StrongLifts 5×5. It focuses on building strength across the five most basic movements humans are meant to do (squat, deadlift, bench press, row, and overhead press).

2. Your Mind

You must also foster a capable mind. One that can stand on it’s own two feet. The strongest body won’t accomplish anything without an equally impressive mind.

1. Read books

Reading a book is like absorbing another man’s lifelong wisdom. The more books you read, the more you’ll know and the wiser you’ll be. Blogs are okay, but the average quality of a blog post is decidedly lower than what you find in a book. People simply put more time, effort, and value into books.

The knowledge you acquire in books also contributes to your self reliance. It offers quality wisdom and advice– that can’t be taken away from you.

2. Meditate

Meditation is the act of being comfortable being alone. When you meditate, you remove all of the outside noise. All of the thoughts, gossip, music, news, women, men, business, sex– everything. You are left with only yourself.

Many men can’t stand meditation because they’ve grown dependant on all of this external stimulation. They aren’t comfortable in their own skin. And thus they’ve lost their edge, their self reliance.

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heli0s-writes · 5 years ago

Text

We’ll Come Too

Pairing: Steve x Reader x Bucky Summary: They surprise you with a question. A/N: 5 of ?? Snapshots between you, Steve, and Bucky. In the same canon as Mystery of Love– check it out first :)

On a Thursday, you wake up to an empty bed.

It’s the middle of the week, and you have completed your second semester at Union, finishing out the year with a curated undergraduate exhibit and another talk in the Art Building. You haven’t responded to the contract renewal yet, still deciding on whether it might be a good time to take a sabbatical and focus on your own work.

Although being surrounded by your contemporaries and seeing the changes that photography has undergone in the past few years has been great, not to mention staying faithful to a schedule has helped your life immensely… there is just a certain freedom that you are lacking. A freedom you really enjoy having.

You are reminded of this freedom as the sun cascades through the open blinds and over your eyes. This past year, you’ve been up before sunrise most weekdays. You smile, eyes still shut, reveling in the fact that on a Thursday, you can stretch and yawn and remain in bed for another hour if you wish.

You do just that, squeezing your hands into fists as you crane your neck upward and stretch your spine. Then, grabbing the pillow to fluff it a little more, your hand lands in something silky. Perplexed, you slap your palm around and wipe your eyes with your other hand. Another silky thing touches you. And then another.

When your eyes finally open, you see that the bed is covered in BLOOD WHAT THE FU—

Oh. Your heart settles when you realize it’s not blood at all. The bed is layered in red rose petals. Both your hands fly to your face as you take deep breaths, scolding yourself to calm down because you nearly just had a heart attack.

“Bucky?” You call cautiously, sliding off the mattress and brushing off the bits of red on your shirt. “Steve?”

When nothing answers you back, you follow the trail slowly from where your house shoes are to the half-open door. It leads you further, down the stairs, past the walkway, and through the kitchen until finally, you stop by the couch where two men stand in the middle of the living room, arguing.

“You are so stupid!” Bucky hisses, showing Steve his middle finger.

“Real mature, Buck.” Steve responds, pinching his nosebridge, “Will ya just ---”

They pause when they see you leaning on the couch, rubbing your eyes. “What’s happenin?” You ask, picking up a petal and sniffing it. “I rolled over one of these. I think—think there’s a stain. I thought it was the horse scene from The Godfather.” Turning, you try to point your nose to a damp spot on the small of your back. Bucky’s t-shirt indeed had a light pink smudge. “Is this gonna wash out? I love this shirt.”

“Babe,” Bucky calls.

“And who had to tear off all these petals? Who’s hands are red?” You ask, flinging the petal in your hand down.

Steve sighs your name but hardly gets a syllable out before you interrupt again.

“And who is going to sweep all of these up?!” You cry.

They call your name in unison and you snap out of your moment. It’s then you see that Steve and Bucky have dressed in matching trousers and dress shirts. The curtains are all drawn. There are candles lining the perimeter of the room and they balance on their heels, bashful and quiet.

“Guys?” You ask, feeling a sudden pitch of your heart as they stare at you lovingly. You, with a sloppy night-time bun, bunny slippers on, wearing nothing but Bucky’s oldest shirt, threadbare and crumpled, drool-stained and all.

Steve smiles first, taking Bucky’s hand in his as he steps forward. You reflexively back up, but Bucky’s short chuckle makes you pause, and he takes the opportunity to reach out to grab your hand, too. “We got ya somethin…” He murmurs.

You blink. “Is it… breakfast?” You ask, peeking over to the dining table where two more candles flicker. Sometimes they’re not sure when you are joking and when you are truly oblivious. Their girl, always independent and headstrong, sometimes became so silly in their presence.

“No.” Steve laughs, slapping the hand holding Bucky over his face. His other hand, you notice, is behind his back, and your heart suddenly drops into your stomach and feels like it’s about to fall out of you completely. “It’s better than breakfast.” He grins.

“C-C-candy?” You ask, trying to steer the conversation somewhere stupid—somewhere else. “D-did you—ge-get me—oh Christ.” Your eyes fill up with tears when he pulls the velvet box forward. “There’s a Jolly Rancher in there, right?” You whisper.

Bucky wipes a tear from your eye when Steve gets down on his knee. “I’d do it too, but these pants can’t contain this ass.” Bucky snarks. It earns him a laugh before another tear drips down your face.

“Honey,” Steve says quietly, looking intently at you even though he’s not much more than a blurred shape of sandy hair and two blue marbles. “We love you so much. You mean so much to us, sweetheart. We’re so happy to have you…” He pauses, “I just… I can’t think of another way to show you how much… Let’s get married, baby.”

“He had another speech, but I told him it was stupid.” Bucky comments. “Lots of references to World War II—can you believe?” But you can hear the shudder in his voice, the threat of a faltering last word, as his throat closes up with emotion while he waits for you. His hands are clammy and squeezing tightly, and you almost pause to comment because Bucky, nervous? You would have never imagined it.

Turning to face him, you see Bucky chewing on his lip, nostrils flaring just a tad to keep himself from crying. His nose is tinged pink, and you nearly jump into his arms to soothe him if it wasn’t for Steve peering at you with such earnest.

“C’mon, doll. Don’t make two old men wait.”

You can’t help but let loose a happy sob and nod your head because it is all you can get out now as your face and chest feel nothing but salty wetness pouring out. Steve slips the ring on your finger and you take a second to wipe your eyes and look at it.

A simple silver band shines like gold under the candlelight. Encrusted on top by a delicate smooth setting sits a clear blue diamond, a little green, a little grey, a perfect reminder of their loving gaze.

Steve finally stands up, brushing his knees as he holds your trembling hand up to his lips and kisses each knuckle in reverence. “What do you think?” He asks, thumbing the jewel on your finger.

You place your hand over your chest, taking Bucky’s fingers in tow. With a damp smile, you reply, “I think I need to brush my teeth before I kiss either of you.”

—

You announce the engagement over a group text to Tony and the others. Soon enough, a caravan of Avengers arrives with champagne tucked under their arms and you are scrambling to arrange some kind of fruit and cheese plate for all the guests. Natasha finds you in the kitchen and slaps your hand away before ushering you into the living room.

Pepper is there first, pulling you into a firm hug, sweeping your still wet hair to the side and placing her hand on your cheek.

“I’m so happy for you. It’s a wonderful feeling.” Her voice is wavering and gentle, and you return her hug with enthusiasm, hoping to convey to her all the gratefulness you feel for her.

Tony springs open the champagne bottle, and because there are no flutes in your new home to house them, he pours the bubbling liquid into ceramic mugs and wine glasses instead. An array of mismatched objects you’ve collected.

“What is this, a cabin?” He mutters with a little smirk as he sips champagne from a Kermit the Frog mug. They laugh and cajole, Sam is shoving his elbow into Bucky side and rubbing him about being a taken man, even though he’s been taken the very second he met you. Across the room, where Steve is being pat on the shoulder by Clint and Bruce, he sends you a smile.

All three of you, basking in the glow of the afternoon, surrounded by clinking glasses and laughter, rose petals crushed under your feet, share a sweet second of silence together before returning to the world.

—

The new ring on your finger still feels out of place and you can’t help but twirl it round and round, finding the jewel on top with your thumb repeatedly. Bucky and Steve are stacking mugs into the dishwasher as you take a minute to yourself. There are so many things to consider, so many technical aspects of a marriage, planning and pondering, where to have it, what to serve, who to invite, what you’ll wear and what they’ll wear, and how it will work with three.

Your mind wanders to only one thought, and it chews relentlessly deep in your gut.

A hand settles softly on your shoulder and you look up at Steve’s kind eyes. “Baby,” he calls, “We’re with you.”

“Yeah.” You say with a deep breath, placing your hands over his. “Yeah, I know.”

“Whenever you’re ready, we’ll come too.”

Bucky peeks over his shoulder, patting his hands on the back of his trousers and offering you a sympathetic lift of his mouth. You reply with a cagey smile of your own and then shake your head, letting loose your hair before leaning back onto the cushions.

“Let’s go on my birthday,” You summon the courage to plan the first step, “It’ll take the edge off hearing the news.” And you don’t mean about the engagement. You are talking about the relationship—the Binding-- altogether.

The two men nod, letting you steer. It’s been nearly a year since they’ve been with you, since they met you, and became Bound to you. Now, there is a new chapter with a home decorated and filled with love, and an approaching celebration to mark the blessed union. It’s been nearly a year now, and Steve and Bucky have not yet met your parents.

Steve leans down to kiss you, hand cupping your jaw, mouth pressed firmly on yours in a promise:

We’re with you. Whenever you’re ready. We’ll come too.

#marvel #mcu #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #soulmate AU #fanfiction #reader insert #Mystery of Love heli0s #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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you-guys--are-losers · 5 years ago

Note

Can you write a fic about MJ ranting to Betty about her crush on Peter

//You know I can, and I will. ;) I actually even have a part two planned for this, so thanks so much for a prompt that I know I can build off of! I’m really excited to dig into this.

a momentary lapse

summary: when mj gets stuck waiting out a psychotic water monster, she finds her tongue is as slippery as the venetian streets when it comes to peter parker.

characters: michelle jones x peter parker, betty brant x ned leeds, flash thompson, abe brown, cindy moon, mr. harrington

word count: 2,730

warnings: mildly homicidal tidal wave, teenage angst, unintentional fluff

mj is the first to admit it: she doesn’t exactly have the best track record with school trips

there was the decathlon trip to d.c., for starters, in which their team single-handedly blew a hole in one of america’s monuments to its morally-grey history (not such a bad outcome) and got themselves stuck in a burning elevator (admittedly, a problem)

then there was the fact that they screwed up so bad spider-man found it necessary to haul ass all the way out to washington (although mj has her own opinions on that particular coincidence– but that is a discussion for another time)

at the time, mj had figured that one near-death experience on a school trip would be enough for a lifetime

so, when the literal ocean decides to attack them in venice, mj will admit that she is caught slightly unprepared

she first realizes what’s going on when there is a near miss involving ned, betty, and a gondola

the soaking wet couple stumbles out of the boat, and then they are ushered into the crowd, along with mj, searching for somewhere sheltered from the water in the city that is literally built into the sea

there are bodies pushing around them on every side, all of the people struggling to get away from the murderous lazy river that is trying to drag them into the depths

“flash, stop video-taping this!” shouts abe over the ruckus, causing mj to glance over her shoulder at her classmates

“someone needs to know that the ocean is attacking us!” flash shouts back in response, adding, “it could be aliens, or-”

“or maybe you should put away the phone and concentrate on running for your life!” cindy snaps, shoving her way past flash

“alright, children, please stay calm,” mr. harrington calls in a shrill voice that is decidedly not calm, “everything is going to be alright. emergency services have been contacted-”

“and how are they gonna get here?” flash asks shrilly, adding, “oh, right. by boat!”

at that moment, the group turns down another alley, meeting with another rush of people running for their escape

mj doesn’t realize that she is being separated from her companions until it is almost too late

at the last second, her hand shoots out and grabs betty’s

mj links her fingers together with the girl’s, her eyes meeting the panicked gaze of the blonde

when she turns to look for the rest of the group, mj finds that they are gone, swallowed up in a crowd of unfamiliar faces

the shoving is getting worse, and for one dangerous moment mj fears that she is going to slip on the cobblestones and end up underfoot; then, her eyes find a sheltered side street behind a cafe, as well as a dumpster they should be able to use as shelter

mj tugs fiercely on betty’s hand to get her attention, and the girl’s panicked gaze locks on hers, goes to focus on the hiding spot, then travels back to mj’s own eyes with new understanding

after mj is sure betty understands, she pulls herself free of the crowd, holding tight to her classmate as she makes a beeline for shelter

betty weaves through the crowd quickly, and in a flash the girls find themselves crouched beneath a tall, cardboard box leaning against the trash, breathing heavily

for a moment, that’s all either can do: squat under the cardboard, fighting to catch their breath and still their pounding hearts

and then, betty begins rifling through her soaking purse for her phone, breathing, “we need to call someone. mr. harrington, or maybe flash, or… ned!”

betty’s voice goes shrill on the final name as she releases mj’s hand, bringing both hands to cup her cheeks

“i can’t believe i lost him! oh, my gosh… what if something happens to him? i need to text him, or else he’s going to worry.”

before she can look for her phone again, mj rests a hand on betty’s arm

“you should probably wait,” mj reasons slowly, “i’m sure he’s running, like the rest of them. you don’t want him to stop and look at his phone when you call, or else he might get hurt. he needs to focus.”

“you’re right,” betty pants, running a hand through her soaking wet hair. “i just can’t believe… well, i’m sure you know how it feels. you have brad to worry about.”

something strange tingles in mj’s stomach in response to what her classmate has said, and mj finds her eyes widening

“what?” she questions, eyes narrowing slightly as she presses, “wait, there’s– there’s nothing going on between me and brad. i don’t feel… no, it’s not like that.”

betty’s eyes are surprisingly sharp as she fixes them on mj, raising an eyebrow

“oh… okay,” she says slowly, though her voice sounds rather unconvinced

“i just thought, because you’ve been sitting next to him on the plane and the bus and stuff-”

“um, yeah, we’re just friends,” mj responds quickly, tucking a curl behind her ear and turning to watch the crowd outside of the alleyway

the sound of rushing water and screaming is all that can be heard between the two of them for a moment, and mj does not look away from the chaos out there

even if they’re safe, their classmates might not be, and then there’s peter–

well, at least, she thinks there is

but if mj is anywhere close to being right, then he is far too close to that thing for comfort, and the very thought sends her stomach lurching.

“well, who is it, then?”

betty’s question causes mj’s gaze to snap to the blonde immediately, dragging her out of her thoughts.

“um, no one,” mj replies quickly

“you’re looking awfully worried for that to be true,” betty reasons, eyes narrowing slightly

mj hasn’t noticed it before, but there’s just a little too much sharp cunning in them for her liking

“i mean, half our class is out there,” mj reasons, but betty raises a hand to stop her

“we both know that you would probably throw a party if flash drowned, and you just said yourself that there’s nothing between you and brad,” betty counters firmly

mj averts her gaze, fixing it determinedly on the cobblestones between them

“venice was traditionally a city of people running from something,” mj pipes up after a moment, the words coming in a quick, focused, stream

“people only started living here when rome fell and a bunch of warrior clans were like, ‘hey, cool, we’re just gonna start attacking things.’ so all the people were like, ‘shoot, better go somewhere they can’t reach us. well, these guys suck at building boats.’ so… venice. kind of ironic that people came here because they were running away, and now that we’re here we’re all running away, too. it’s like poetic justice, kind of showing how no matter how much you do in life, you’re never gonna change much-”

“you can’t distract me with your existentialism,” betty interrupts

mj falls silent immediately, cursing mentally as she listens to the sound of the gears turning in betty’s brain

“i know you’ve got someone,” betty continues

the statement is simple, declarative, and it doesn’t really demand more, and in the quiet that stretches between them, mj finds herself feeling drained and exhausted

they’re miles and miles away from home, crouched behind a dumpster while a popped water wiener is terrorizing venice

peter parker is probably fighting that thing right now in his onesie, and mr. harrington is talking to their travel planners on the phone about whether or not there’s a discount for situations where the canals literally come to life

flash is without a doubt live streaming the whole thing

in the wake of all that, mj figures, what does it matter?

she’s been hiding her stupid feelings for years, and no one’s figured it out; she might as well give just enough information to appease betty, and there’s no need to mention names

there’s no reason to get deep on anything, especially when it’s so confusing and likely not reciprocated, right?

“i guess,” mj says simply, pointedly staring out into the alleyway

beside her, betty lets out a light squeal, clasping her hands together, and mj has to bite back a groan

“i knew it!” the girl declares, waving a finger in mj’s direction with a grin

“i so knew it. i knew my investigative journalism skills were right– they always are. and being in such a solid, healthy relationship has definitely given me a sense for these kinds of things; i think that’s what separates a woman from a girl, you know? and-”

mj lets betty ramble on for a bit, sitting with a stoic face as she listens to the disturbance from afar

something about this feels… strange

it takes mj a moment to realize that this is the first time she’s admitted it, and then suddenly she finds herself a little bit breathless

“-so, how does it feel?”

mj isn’t expecting the question, so when her eyes return to the soaking-wet blonde, she can’t help but feel like she has been snapped back into the present and everything is taking a minute to focus

“what?”

“you know, how does it feel?” betty presses

“to have a person like that in your life? i mean, you can’t have had too many– you’re too calm and stuff for that kind of thing.”

mj decides, in the moment, not to analyze that particular comment

instead, she considers betty’s previous question and tries not to feel too much like she’s been put on the spot for an interview

“um… i mean, i don’t think there’s a way that you’re supposed to feel,” she says slowly

“but pretty basic. i mean, with like fluttery chest and stuff. it’s whatever.”

mj tries not to think about what she’s just said, but now that she’s let the words pass her lips, it’s a little bit hard

because it’s true: every time she catches him looking at her, her heart leaps and sputters like a revving engine, just about making her jump out of her skin

and every conversation with him that is unplanned is smooth and easy, like a road she knows how to drive like the back of her hand

and every awkward interaction somehow feels like a learning curve, like driving a new, unfamiliar car but knowing you’ll get the hang of it-

alright, maybe she’s taking the car metaphor too far, it’s kind of sounding like a rascal flatts song

luckily, betty interrupts her train of thought before mj can take herself down a dead-end

“that’s so sweet,” betty decides, tipping her head slightly to the side

“you know, i don’t think i felt that way about my ned at first… but then, once i really got to know him, i started to get all the butterflies and everything. sometimes, i think, they come with time.”

the absurdity of it all strikes mj in that moment: the two of them are literally hiding from a water golem behind a dumpster, and for some reason, they’re talking about boys

way to fail the bechdel test in real life, mj.

but, as mj considers the situation they are in, she decides that maybe they are doing the right thing

after all, it’s keeping their minds away from the almost inevitable destruction of an ancient city with them in it, so they might as well do what they can to keep calm, right?

it is for this reason, and no other, that mj decides to keep going

“yeah, that makes sense,” mj agrees nonchalantly

she considers it for a second, though, and in the moment she finds herself simply letting loose

“i think mine were pretty immediate, though.”

and, as mj thinks it over, she realizes it’s true

peter has had the same effect on her since the day she first saw him, when he ran into their freshman bio class half a second before the bell rang with a stupidly flustered look on his face

even then, when he was scrawny and short and squeaky-voiced, he was capable of releasing a bunch of fluttering fruit bats loose in her chest, filling her with panicked, beating wings

and even now, what is technically seven years later, that hasn’t changed

sure, he’s got abs now, and he’s got the arachnoid fursona to think about

but he’s still peter, and she still feels just the same as she did when she was a freshman in the back of the class, not yet having learned that no one gives a crap and still trying to figure everything out

“it hasn’t changed,” mj finds herself admitting, “even though i have, i guess.”

betty’s eyes flash with delight, and the words leave her mouth so quickly that mj isn’t convinced she is breathing: “ohmygosh. is this a long-term crush we’re talking?”

mj pauses, strangely uncertain, but with betty’s eyes burning into her skull, she finds herself admitting it

“i mean, i guess so.”

betty goes off on a rant, but mj isn’t really listening to it now

something settles over mj, cold and heavy, rather like a chill

it takes mj a moment to realize that betty has stopped talking and is now studying her

“what is it?” the blonde asks simply, and mj is surprised by the open seriousness in betty’s face

perhaps it is this candid side the blonde is showing that causes mj to reply

“it’s the first time i’ve talked about it. not that it’s a big deal or anything.”

betty’s eyes widen in surprise, but she doesn’t stop mj as she continues

“but hearing myself say it aloud and everything? i mean, it makes it all sound kind of stupid.”

betty doesn’t bother to hide her surprise, but rather than countering mj’s statement, she simply says, “why?”

mj mulls it over, considering

after a slight pause, she finally says, “it just doesn’t make sense.”

“it kind of makes me feel like a loser. i’ve been hung up on this one thing for so long– i mean, it’s dumb. it’s not logical or anything, so i really should just move on… i’m an independent person.”

betty’s eyes are narrowed and calculating as they meet mj’s own brown irises, and the question that she poses with such intensity nearly causes mj to lose her cool:

“who says that it’s stupid just because it doesn’t make sense?”

mj swallows thickly, glancing away, but betty isn’t done

“in fact, that might be exactly why it does make sense. because it doesn’t. sometimes, feelings like that just work that way.”

feelings like that…

for a moment, mj rolls the phrase around in her mind, and she finds herself straightening up slightly

feelings like that, feelings like-

alright, maybe that’s a bit much for one day

but something about the thought, maybe we don’t have to make sense, is strangely freeing

for just a moment, mj sits up a little straighter beneath the dumpster, drawing in a deep breath

she doesn’t have to make sense: she doesn’t owe it to anyone to be predictable, and she never has

in fact, mj has thrived in the face of unpredictability and instability her whole life, so maybe betty’s right

maybe, the fact that she and peter don’t make sense is exactly what makes it feel so right

and maybe, those feelings that betty is talking about could one day turn into…

“i mean, look at ned and me. we weren’t exactly the likeliest couple– i was independent, ready to face the world, and he was a bachelor without any sense of direction in his romantic life. but all it took was one plane ride, some luck, and a little bit of fate, and now, here we are-”

mj tunes out for most of the speech that follows, and as betty goes on, she can hear the sound of the chaos in the distance subsiding

and so, as the waters settle and the storm calms, mj finds a little bit of strength left in the wake of all the destruction

because maybe, just maybe, she’s opened herself up a little bit more to the uncertain and improbable

and maybe, because she’s allowed herself one foolish moment of vulnerability, she’s shaping up to be a bit stronger for it.

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runfromthemedic · 7 years ago

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Star of the Circus

Chapter 1

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Change is one of the scariest things in the world and yet it is also one of those variables of human existence that no one can avoid.

-Aberjhani

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The tent was on fire.

It wasn’t that alarming, the tent was set on fire nearly once a week when the jugglers lost a pin during practice or the knife throwers on occasion went wide of their targets. No one was as of yet running towards the tent trying to rescue equipment and animals, so the fire couldn’t be that big even if she could see the smoke rising from her vantage point on the Ferris wheel.

From the blue streak Fin was swearing from his perch above her, Leora bet the head mechanic saw it too.

“Fifth time dis fuckin’ month.” The crotchety old man spat, then cursed anew when the action sent his cigarette the roughly eight stories to the ground. Used to his bitching, Leora dug through the tool kit she was holding before tossing a slightly crushed carton of cigarettes to the man. Another round of cursing had her tossing up a lighter.

For how much he hated fire of any kind Fin could, and has, smoked like a chimney for the twelve years Leora had known the man.

“This scrap heap is as good as it’s going to get, Fin. We might as well head down make sure the big top will stay standing.” She called up after another twenty minutes of Fin trying to fix a broken axle and failing miserably. The Ferris wheel needed to be replaced altogether, but the circus master was a cheap bastard. If it still somewhat ran and wouldn’t kill anybody it stayed. Usually covered in brightly colored duct tape.

Leora also just wanted to get down. She didn’t mind heights; she spent too much time with the acrobats and on top of machinery as Fin’s grease monkey/packhorse for fear to even be considered. But she was on top of the Ferris wheel during the very windy tail end of a European October, covered in grease, and unable to push the shoulder length curly mass of dark hair that had escaped its tie out of her face without getting said hair covered in grease. Since grease was a bitch to wash out of anything getting down was the next best option. Checking on the big top was as good of an excuse as any.

She got a ‘hn’ in reply. Taking that as a yes Leora scampered down, making use of circus level acrobatic skills that always pissed the old man off to get down faster than he could with the latter.

Growing up with a circus had its perks. Every person was expected to pull their own weight, whether they were the six year old orphan girl picked up from a passing town to the old hands with silver hair and bent backs. Since she had joined at such a young age she had been passed around a lot, and was expected to at least pick up a few tricks or skills of the people she was minded by or ran errands for. She could juggle, breath fire, bullshit fortunetelling, walk the high wire, pickpocket, and other slight of hands with the best of them. Martial arts had been an unexpected bonus.

After the Second World War China had cracked down on the traditional culture. Practicing martial arts had been forbidden. The Cirque de Lumière had managed to pick up to two young hitchhikers when they had quickly passed through Shanghai to get out of the view of the Red Guard. The two martial artists decided to stay with the circus. Nearly fifty years later, they were both delighted to have a young and malleable student even if they weren’t quite for gender equality on a proverbial battlefield.

Eager to please, Leora had all but thrown herself into learning everything they had wanted of her. Training as it turned out was hell, pure and simple. She couldn’t walk straight for most of her first year with the Cirque de Lumière and she got little to no sleep staying up practicing anything and everything. But it made her new family happy so the bruises, scars, and burns she got were inconsequential.

Dodging a pair of carney workers attempting to haul part of a game stall into place, Leora started jogging towards the Big Top. She’d take a shower after she knew if everyone was okay.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The tent was still on fire.

Not the ‘we’re going to need a few swatches of fabric to patch up the hole’ fire but the ‘oh shit call the fire department I fucked up’ kind. And boy did someone fuck up.

A good chunk of the ceiling was missing, fire eating its way through the fabric and along the pulleys used for shows. Angry sparks rained down and were blown into the sides, starting new fires as the wind rushed through any gaps it could. Leora could just see more fire sparking from the electrical work that ran the lights and sound. The wiring had been old and needed maintenance at least once a week since it was never replaced. This was probably the master’s fault Leora realized with a sinking feeling of horror.

Goddamn cheap bastard.

People were scrambling, moving around like ants trying to save what they could. Animals were being restrained and drug out as people screamed and barked out orders. Delicate equipment was tossed around like props while people grabbed what they could. One lone clown was futilely trying to put out the fire with his bottle of seltzer. Tossing away her greased soaked work gloves Leora joined in.

The heavier equipment the men were already taking care of so Leora moved to help the acrobats as they shoved costumes and the smaller props into bags and trunks to haul away. She was on one of the last bags when the supports started to give.

Cursing, sack slung over her shoulder, Leora dove out of the way of a falling platform. Sparks flew everywhere, catching the grease on her jacket and forcing her to rip it off or else get burned.

Twirling out of the way of another falling beam Leora cursed again. She was too far away from the main entrance to be able to safely make it across. Even now sparks rained down, catching the remaining equipment that the others had decided were a lost cause alight. Her best bet would be one of the holes that had been burned into the tent. Unfortunately, the closest one on her side of the tent was directly under another merrily burning platform.

Another crash a few feet behind her had her stumbling forward. The potentially deadly platform didn’t seem that bad anymore.

Leora had just enough time to register that the flames surrounding the hole were white before the platform gave way and she was forced to dive through. She regretted it almost instantly.

Pain exploded in her back and head as the white flames flicked towards her, radiating out until even the tips of her fingers were screaming. Her vision went white, distracting her from the sensation of going weightless instead of tumbling onto the frost hardened ground outside the tent. The sack slipped from her now numb fingers as the white gave way to black.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The first thing that fully registered when Leora managed to claw her way back to consciousness was that everything ached. Starting at the roots of her hair and on to the tips of her fingers and toes was a throbbing sensation that vaguely reminded her of the drum that had been used during one of the shows; every beat had filled the stands and echoed in her chest, giving her a feeling of emptiness and an overall sense of discomfort. The second thing that registered was the noise, or lack thereof. It was never quiet with the circus, let alone when the big top was in the process of being burned to the ground. She expected bitching at the very least.

Forcing gritty eyes open, she squinted up at something flat and made of concrete maybe six feet away from her face. It took her longer than she’d like to admit before she realized that it was the underside support of a rather old looking bridge which confused the hell out of her. There weren’t bridges of any kind near the town they’d set up near. Why was she under one? Where was everyone else?

Attempting to sit up was almost immediately regretted. The world spun in dizzying loops, and her stomach decided to lodge itself somewhere between her lungs and throat before twisting itself in knots. It took nearly ten minutes for Leora to claw her way into a sitting position and even then she had to bury her head in her knees to fight against the urge to be sick as black swam around the edges of her vision.

She hadn’t felt this bad since the first time she got a concussion falling off the high wire and bouncing from the net to the floor.

She had to be careful to wedge herself as close to the concrete support as possible once her vision was mostly clear of spots. The bridge was built over a river, and the water had swelled under the torrent of rain she was only now noticing, lapping near the edges of her feet and threatening to spill over onto the almost non-existing ledge that she’d woken up on near the top of the medium sized supports.

She vaguely wondered how the hell she managed to scale the underside of a bridge without realizing before her hand brushed against cloth.

Partially in the river was the sack that she remembered taking with her when she swan-dived through the hole in the tent with all the grace of a green acrobat. It was mostly soaked through, but it was the only thing that was even remotely familiar Leora had seen since she’d woken up. Dragging it as best she could into her little dry spot she decided to see exactly what she had to work with until she caught back up with the circus. She had got separated on occasion and had taken several days up to a few weeks to hunt down her family again. It was annoying and tended to happen when equipment or trucks broke down more often than not, getting lost in the confusion of the Big Top burning down wasn’t surprising, but it was always better to have something on hand to either use as tools or pawn to make a little food money and train fair. The master would bitch, but that was normal and he’d still end up clucking around the newly returned stragglers for hours like a worried mother hen.

There wasn’t much to work with.

A silver and black costume from when the trapeze girls had done the Artemis and the Hunt theme over a month ago, two lengths of grey aerial silks from the same show, an equal amount of rope, a jugglers set of knives and pins, tarot cards, the basic magic kit that the handful of magicians they had on hand insisted be stored everywhere, a large ornamental-looking fan, a flask of torch oil, a flask of whiskey which made her huff a laugh, and a box with several pieces of costumes jewelry and a locket with The Cirque de Lumière’s candle and star design etched onto the silver plated front.

The last piece made her smile, even if she cringed a bit guiltily. The locket was a custom piece she’d had made over a year ago for the elderly Icelandic fortune teller that was the closest thing Leora had to a grandmother. The circus hadn’t been able to stay in one place for very long and she’d only recently picked it up when they went through the little Romanian town later the next year. She’d asked one of the acrobats to hide it for her because Amma Eva always seemed to know when she was hiding something. She planned to give it to her at Christmas.

Slipping it around her neck, Leora traced the delicate etching on the front before using a thumb nail to pry it open. The smiling and somewhat cranky faces of her rag tag family stared back at her. Master Yaozu, one of her martial arts teachers and the weapons master, a bear of a man she referred to as Afi Viktor once she got over her fear of the hulking Icelandic, looked two seconds away from going at each other’s throats if Eva wasn’t firmly situated between her husband and the other offending party with a long suffering expression plastered over her heavily lined face. The two old men had hated each other when they were younger, and still barely tolerated each other nearly forty years later.

Huffing out another laugh that didn’t make her body ache quite as much as the first time, Leora went to close the locket when her eye caught the mirror on the other side and she froze.

…That was not her face.

Well, it was her face, sort of. Holding the mirror farther away from her she took in the wild mass of curly dark hair, coffee colored eyes, and the lines of a heart-shaped face. It was her face…when she was about a decade younger than her eighteen years.

She blinked at the reflection, it blinked back. She stuck out her tongue and it did the same. Running a hand over her face Leora noted that the reflections hand was equally as small and childish. Somewhat unnerved she fully focused on her own hand to compare the differences between the tiny trick mirror and reality.

The locket slipped through numb fingers when she realized that the hand holding it was small and childish. Holding up both hands Leora took in the child’s hands- which were apparently her hands- and followed the length of equally small arms before shooting down to stick like legs and tiny bare feet that were nothing like her eighteen year old frame. She wiggled the toes of a body that couldn’t be more than ten.

Leora fainted.

#fanfiction #katekyo hitman reborn

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t-oresama · 7 years ago

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“Brave New Girl” by Rachel Vincent

Synopsis: Dahlia 16 sees her face in every crowd. She’s nothing special-- just one of five thousand girls created from a single genome to work for the greater good of the city. Meeting Trigger 17 changes everything. He thinks she’s interesting. Beautiful. Unique. Which means he must be flawed. When Dahlia can’t stop thinking about him-- when she can’t resist looking for him, even though that means breaking the rules-- she realizes she’s flawed, too. But if she’s flawed, then so are all her identicals. And any genome found to be flawed will be recalled. Destroyed. Suddenly the girl who always follows the rules is breaking them, one by one by one.

Published: 2017 (Delacorte Press) Genre: Young Adult, Fiction, Sci-Fi Rating: 2.5 out of 5 Reader Review: I’m not even sure how to start this review. In fact, I’ve had this book finished for a couple of weeks, but the idea of writing a review alone for it was actually not something I was looking forward to. I will admit that I am not normally into science fiction books. I tried to go into this one with an open mind, but I’m sure a few things did indeed go over my head, which could have skewed my view of some plotpoints in this book. I also feel a weird sense of betrayal by this book and its author, Rachel Vincent (which I will get into later), which also could make my views not as unbiased as I tout myself to be. Through it all, this is my opinion, and I always encourage those curious about a book to read for themselves and not take my or anyone else’s reviews as gospel. That all being said, let me explain why I give this book my lowest rating since the infamous cringe that was Cruel Summer.

As is the case with my recent slew of picks, I was intrigued by this one through its cover: Identical girls in gray garb save for one girl-- the correctly-assumed protagonist-- dressed in a floor-length peach gown and wearing shiny adornments. Reading the synopsis also sold it to me. Obviously a modern retelling of classic utopic/dystopic books “Brave New World” and “1984″, this story focuses on Dahlia 16 (her name staying “Dahlia” but her number changing with each year older she gets), one of five thousand clones or “identicals” literally created for the purpose of being hydroponic gardeners in their city of Lakeview. This city has evolved past the “need to breed” pretty much anything; humans are handcrafted and mass-produced to create an efficient working society, and the vegetables that Dahlia and her identicals grow are grown solely with water and other nutrients, eliminating things like soil or organic sunlight. This world is constantly emphasizing working together, efficiency and flaws, where, even if you don’t act different on purpose, you and your identicals are disposed of to keep said efficiency and make examples out of those who go against the norm.

Enter Trigger 17, a cadet tasked with (along with his other identicals) going out on missions in the “wild” of Lakeview in order to hone survival tactics. One day, an elevator breaks down with only Trigger and Dahlia in it, eventually leading them to, whether accidentally or on purpose, talk to each other, even though they know fraternizing with other groups unless prompted to by a higher-up is illegal. Yet both of their interests are highly piqued, with Dahlia constantly thinking about him and Trigger constantly trying to find ways to sneak moments with her, using his skills to short-circuit certain monitoring cameras, etc. Despite Dahlia knowing that continuing to fraternize with Trigger could mean real and imminent death for her and her identicals, she’s too enthralled by Trigger to stay away. In secrecy they eventually discover human sensations never felt or taught to them before, including touching and kissing, and Dahlia starts to feel emotions she just can’t explain when Trigger is around. We start to see her becoming more human through these feelings and actions despite the jarring fact that Dahlia is, in fact, human already.

This is a very unfortunate example of a story with a heavy plot and that requires a lot of world building that doesn’t give itself enough pages to flesh either out. That is my biggest (well, second biggest) complaint with this book. As I’ve said in past reviews, YA novels are somewhat known for being shorter than traditional novels, usually not exceeding 300 pages. This forces more planning of scenes, exposition and what is deemed “important” information by the authors. But Vincent, at 254 pages, doesn’t really do this. While things like excessive exposition are often frowned upon in regular fiction (assuming it takes place in a “regular” world), sci-fi has even more endless possibilities than fiction does, and it only benefits the author to let the reader inside of their head through necessary world-building exposition. Vincent shoots herself in the foot by making this story in the point of view of Dahlia, who has grown up in Lakeview her whole life since her “birth”, instead of a third-person narrator. We’re told what will happen in the future with her and her identicals, and how she grew up (where she’s establishing that things were abnormal to her because she was still a child learning about her world, but it is indeed normal), but Dahlia is already familiar with the landscape and buildings, thus eliminating that essential exposition so the reader can be familiar, too. Instead, anything that we get described in detail is what is only new to her in the present day, but without a contrast with what is “normal” otherwise, these comparisons are moot.

The pacing is flawed (ha) as well. The prelude is a couple of pages describing her early infanthood. The first half goes about Dahlia’s daily life (though within the first 15 pages, we’re already introduced to this “new and mysterious” boy, Trigger), and it takes place in a span of approximately three months. The second half happens in approximately a week’s time, maybe less. This makes the first half hard to grasp, because the second half goes into much more detail. There is an obvious connection between Dahlia and Trigger, and moments of discovery and blossoming love that are sweet, but I was not convinced by the book’s end that it was as deep and consuming as the story wanted me to believe. It doesn’t help that they have only three stolen moments between their first meeting and the climax, and all of Dahlia’s daydreaming and wondering and crushing on Trigger does not warrant her continually jeopardizing the livelihood of her 4,999 other clones that did nothing to deserve it. There are moments where you just listen to her inner monologues and her mulling over her choices and you want to yell, “Don’t do it, you idiot! It’s not worth it!” even though the book wants to sell you on “love overcoming logic” or whatever the basis of their love story is. The end doesn’t justify the means, and that was the biggest obstacle it had to overcome. Instead, it ran straight into the obstacle and fell flat on its face.

The character of Trigger is interesting because he’s skilled at what he does and is rebellious. And because he is a cadet, unlike Dahlia, if he hacks a computer and shorts out a camera, it isn’t seen as a betrayal or a flaw in his genetic code, but instead as a positive because his kind were made to be cunning and adaptable. He has a smug way about him because he is good at what he does and knows it. The character of Dahlia is alright, but again, her decisions make her somewhat hard to sympathize with in later scenes. And, naturally, you want to read about someone different, if not at least relatable, giving Vincent another grueling task of selling Dahlia as the heroine of sorts to us. She has her moments but the efforts (or lack thereof) ultimately fall short. I’m also confused by the way the cloning process in this world works. In Dahlia’s 16-year group, she has a friend named Sorrel 16, but they also have a gardening instructor named Sorrel 32. But a conflict (that doesn’t go anywhere due to other events in the book) Dahlia faces is that she’s offered to be a gardening instructor herself once she turns 18, but Dahlia says that should she accept, she would be instructing “alone” while her identicals go on to grow in different capacities in the city. Does this mean they’ll all still exist? Does this mean that 4,999 other 32-year gardeners exist somewhere besides Sorrel 32? Do they create new genomes of Dahlia’s every year? Are there really 5,000 of the same girl created each year? And if so, what about the other genomes made for other specific fields? Dahlia only mentions approximated 8 other genomes, but are there more or less? Where are they? How many of them are made? And how often? And if Dahlia is flawed, are the other Dahlias that are older or younger as well? If they recall the 16-years, do they recall the 32-years as well? This mess of questions sounds annoying, but for a world that the author wants us to become engrossed in, it’s fair play for these questions to exist. It just makes it equally annoying that there’s no real answer given for any of them.

Finally, what my biggest problem with this book is... the ending. Because there is none. This is not a spoiler, but something I’m saying so that you don’t go in with the same expectation I did, which is that this book is a one-off that will present a world, characters, a problem and a resolution by this ONE BOOK’S conclusion. Because it doesn’t. Instead, you’re given a cliffhanger ending, with plotpoints and characters introduced literally last second, a page of acknowledgement from Vincent, and THEN a “sneak peek” at the second book in the series, “Strange New World”. I was actually so angry about this that I threw the book away from me and didn’t even bother to read the whole “sneak peek”. Nowhere on its cover or its accolades does it make mention of this being a part of a series. It’s not even the next book that Vincent promotes on the very last page! Whether this was Vincent’s choice or the publisher’s choice, it suckers you in by not telling you that it’s part of a series, forcing you to remain curious enough to get the conclusion you desperately want by the time the next book comes out. If I had known it was part of a series, honestly, I wouldn’t have read it. I was looking for a one-off, but no. There is no resolution with any aspect of the story; nothing is solved, discovered or concluded. I felt like Charlie Bucket when Willy Wonka says you get nothing by the end of his long winding tour of Wonka Factory. I lost.

It’s tough to rate low because the idea was there, the writing and dialogue are very well done, and there are twists that I didn’t expect and that did make me stay interested. But I feel personally tricked by this book. And I shouldn’t take it personally, because I’m sure there could be a reason why it doesn’t say it’s part of a series. But between the inconsistent flow of the book, the unjustifiable actions of the characters, and the incomplete ending followed by a fake-out ending followed by a teaser to “tide you over”, I just can’t come back from it in an unbiased way. If you are into sci-fi, are better at imagining the unimaginable than I am, and are willing to devote time to this as a series (though bear in mind this book just came out; there’s no date for the sequel book), I say go for it. I really could be undermining it, but at least I can say I gave it a shot. Maybe sci-fi isn’t for me. Maybe I just picked the wrong book. In that latter case, I’m totally open to suggestions. I will not let this be my last attempt at YA sci-fi.

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girlwsoftsound · 7 years ago

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The First Move || Adam Hann Oneshot

Word Count: 2,061 Summary: “Hey! i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of you being friends with the band and going on tour with them but you're in love with adam and try keep away from him, matty notices and does something about it”. Author’s Note: This is so freakin cute and sweet and I am in love with every bit of it. Hope you feel the same. Be sure to throw in a like or comment if you liked it! I love seeing feedback from you all. Please feel free to read my other work here! Enjoy!

It was love at first sight.

He just was so soft and handsome, Adam was. He had those big ol’ green eyes, and that straight brownish-blonde hair that fell slightly in his face to make him look edgy. Just one glance at him had you blushing like a silly little girl. After being introduced to him and hearing him speak, you were done for. The entire time you spent with the band, chatting, befriending them, you could not get him out of your mind. He just was so captivating, even from the start. You were sure that whatever friendship you created with the band would probably end up making that fact harder on you.

And it did. The more you grew closer to Matty, George, and Ross, the closer you also grew to Adam. He was sweet with you, teasing you subtly and going out of his way to be a gentleman when he could. The small crush you formed when you saw him first soon grew to a full-out attraction. It got so heated, so intense, to the point to where you swore Adam nearly kissed you after a night hanging around Matty’s place listening to music. He certainly looked like he wanted to anyway, those eyes of his staring you down and asking the world from you. You had no idea how no one had seen it. Perhaps Adam was just that good at knowing how to move without them catching on. Or, maybe they all knew his intentions and were merely giving privacy. Either option made you squirm in your seat. It was too much, so fast. Your head barely knew how to catch up with your scrambling heart.

Just when it seemed like your head had made some progressed, you were blindsided with simultaneously the best and the worst offer you could have ever hoped for. Matty outstretched an offer to go and tour with them, getting to see the cool lifestyle they led night to night. You would have been stupid to say no. It was anyone’s dream to be able to go on tour with a band, especially a band as up and coming as the four boys you knew were. To say no would have drawn more heads your way than if you were to drop on the ground where you stood and yell you loved Adam Hann with all your heart and soul. Your answer was made up for you. Matty brought you into his arms and was exuberant over your yes. Later when he told the others your answer, they all were as well. You could not forget the look of pure glee in Adam’s. That heart-pounding sight would haunt you in your dreams, all the way until the day of the tour.

He was there for you waiting at the edge of the steps, extending his hand out to you to take your clothes bag and help you up into the bus. You could barely handle to see him looking so excited without also smiling back equally as such. He took your things and then brought you on with a hug, welcoming you to what he promised would be loads of fun. You took his word for it and followed him back to where the bunks were.

“You’re going to be bunking across from me and above John,” he told you, tossing your stuff into a side compartment. “Don’t worry, we don’t snore. Only Ross and George do, and they’re in their own set of bunks.”

Giggling, you looked over to where you saw their stuff spread out. Thankfully, it was on the other side and down from Adam. You saw Matty’s stuff on the one directly next to yours. He seemed to be a fairly quiet guy when he was to himself anyway, so you doubted it would be any problem. “Thanks. Where are they all?”

“They’ll be around,” replied Adam. Suddenly, the bus felt rather tight around you, rather confined. It became all too real that you were alone, in a bus, with Adam, the boy you had so many feelings for. He caught your eye, and for a split second, you felt like you did when he almost tried to kiss you. The same butterflies pestered you from that day. Before you knew it, he was taking your hand and opening his mouth to speak. As soon as you felt his hand on yours, your eyes flew to it, a gasp escaping you at the touch.

“{Y/N}, I-”

“We’re back!”

Another gasp was heard. This time, it came from none other than Matty’s mouth. He was the one with the triumphant exclamation, and the first one inching down the narrow hallway of the bus. He also was the one who saw Adam’s hand holding yours before he jerked it away in surprised embarrassment. You stared between the two as a silent conversation occurred. Adam was pleading for Matty not to say anything about it, while Matty’s smirk made him look as if he wanted to do anything but keep quiet. However, after a bit more pleading, Matty kept silent and walked forward. Everyone said hi to you, jumping into their bunks or plopping down in the kitchen area. Adam dove into his bunk, closing the privacy curtain tight. You bit your lip and got into yours. After that situation, you were not entirely sure you would ever leave it. Or Adam with his, for that matter.

Touring commenced, whether you felt like you could look at Adam again or not. The first few dates were awesome, and you enjoyed being shown around by different crew members as to all of the different setups. Though it was tons of fun, you still had the looming feeling of awkwardness between you and Adam. He rarely spoke to you, even though you seemed to be around him way more than usual being cooped up on tour. When he did speak, it was a one word response. You decided to avoid him in response, mostly out of fear of the awkwardness, but also to not cause any drama. The last thing you wanted was for the others to be made aware of what was going on and get sucked into it. They had better things to focus on. Or rather, you thought they did.

The fifth tour date, somewhere in Spain, Matty caught your arm before you were able to go out to swim in the hotel pool. He caught you in the hallway, merely passing by you on his journey back from getting some food from a downstairs eatery. He smiled, menacing.

“Have you talked to Adam yet?”

“What?”

“C’mon darling, you need to speak to him sometime.”

“First off, it’s none of your business,” you spoke, glaring under your eyelashes at him. “Secondly, maybe I don’t want to.”

“Yes you do,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You like him. A lot. Don’t even try to hide that, we all know.”

You nearly choked on air. “Y-You know?”

“I’ve personally known since that first day we met you. You’re not really sly, you know.”

“Matty.”

“It’s nothing to shy away from! It’s cute that you are so fond of Hann.”

“You,” you whispered, looking around nervously, “need to shut up before he hears us on accident.”

“How could he? He’s downstairs, finishing up eating.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he replied, sighing dramatically like a child. “I’m positive. Seriously though, you should just confess how you feel. He likes you too, you know.”

Your eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

He nodded. “Don’t believe me, go ask him yourself.”

“I-”

“I’ve got to be on my way,” Matty said, cool as ever, as he stepped past you and headed towards his shared room with George. “Have a nice swim, {Y/N}.”

“I...fuck off, Matthew.”

You heard a chuckle as you stormed off. Who did Matty think he was? Getting into your business with Adam, telling his feelings to you. You froze in the elevator as it took you down to the pool. Had he told your feelings to Adam already? Were you so easy to read that he had been aware even before Matty said anything? Your head spinned, and you barely realized the elevator had made it to the pool’s floor when it dinged. Stepping out, you made your way to it in a daze. For fear of your safety, you stayed out of the water. Laying down on a chair was what you needed. It felt good to give your brain a rest.

After the sun’s rays had done their job warming you up, you went back inside and up the elevator. A few seconds passed, and then you were back up on your floor. Your breath caught as you passed Adam’s room. You didn’t even want to think about what he was up to behind the door. You couldn’t think. You pushed past and swiped your card key just to distract you from it.

What you saw inside took your breath away.

Sitting on your bed was Adam, an acoustic guitar in hand and rose petals scattered on the white bed he sat on. He was dressed in a nice outfit, one you were sure was meant for touring, and those emerald eyes sparkled. A light blush dusted his cheeks. He got up as you stood frozen, and began to softly sing you what sounded like one of Matty’s elaborate poems. It was a love poem, and it was beautiful. Beautiful enough to cause you to cry, still frozen at the door. When he finished, he gently took off the guitar and strolled over to you. An outstretched hand brought you inside. With the door shutting behind you, he took both of your hands into his and gazed lovingly into your eyes.

“I don’t know if you’ve gotten the hint yet,” he mumbled, so endearingly sweet that you couldn’t help but break your frozen nature to giggle, “but I like you so much, {Y/N}. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever set my eyes on, and you make me feel like a day is not complete when I am without you. Not telling all of this to you these past few days since tour began has been absolute murder. Simply not getting to talk to you has been that way. I was so scared to speak because I was afraid me taking your hand had been far too forward, and well...I didn’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you, {Y/N}. If you’ll have me, I would be so happy to be your boyfriend. Officially.”

Shutting your jaw that had dropped halfway through his speech, you instead put on a brilliant grin. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “Of course. I care so much about you.”

“Then your answer is yes.” Grinning, you squeezed Adam’s hands. “I would love for you to be my boyfriend, Adam. Hell, I’d love nothing more.”

His lips flew to yours in seconds, sweeping you off your feet. You could barely process it, his lips being so soft against yours. Suddenly, your world tilted into place. The man you wanted, craved, was now yours. Both of your feelings were confirmed. It was incredible. You simply could not believe it.

“Matty’s going to be thrilled.”

Pulling back a bit to look at Adam, you giggled. “Did he say something to you?”

“Only that you might like me back and that I should get off my arse and do something about it before we collectively drove the entire bus mental.”

You shook your head. “That bastard. He told me you liked me and that I should talk to you. Wait, did he help you with all of this, too?”

“Only the song lyrics and rose petals,” he replied, leaning to kiss your lips again. “I supplied the music and the whole heart-felt speech.”

“Really? I thought Matty would do that as well.”

“Nah, he’d be shit at it.”

“Oh, of course.”

Smiling, you brought Adam back over to the bed and sat down on him with it. “Would you mind kissing on top of these rose petals and putting them to good use?”

Smiling back, he nodded and brought you close. “Sure, though we need to hurry before soundcheck starts.”

“Screw soundcheck, you only have one first-time makeout session with your new girlfriend.”

Adam sighed happily. “Fair point. Screw soundcheck.”

#adam hann #Adam Hann fanfiction #Adam Hann imagine #Adam Hann Preference #Adam Hann writing #Adam Hann oneshot #the 1975 fanfiction #The 1975 fic #The 1975 imagine #The 1975 #The 1975 writing #The 1975 Oneshot #adam hann x reader #adam x reader #oneshot #The First Move

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thunder0-0sage · 7 years ago

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Summerbolt (manga script) Volume 4, chapter 33

CHAPTER 33: NEW TARGET

We see Seiren and his younger brother, Goran, on the cover, hugging each other over the shoulder and smiling widely, wearing jeans and white T-shirts on which ‘Best bros ever!!’ is written with black letters, the sentence being split between the two’s T-shirts.

‘These two sure look great together but do they really get along as well as they seem to be?!’

The tunnel dug underground by Rose is seen, where she is moving forward along with her son, the girls from ‘Earth class’ №1 and the civilians they’ve saved from the hotel on the beach earlier, Feoria, who’s lost her clothes in the last battle now wearing a man’s shirt and shorts, looking quite big on her.

‘As the one group of heroes fights on the beach, the other is making its way back to Deckstoru underground. Where exactly is their journey going to take them?!’

Zilli: ‘-Are you sure this is the right way, Mrs. Summerbolt?’

Rose: ‘-Of course. For the long years I’ve lived in this town I’ve studied its infrastructure very well and know it like the palm of my hand, whether up there or down here.’

Graid: ‘-We should reach our house soon enough.’

Violet: ‘-And why exactly are we going there?’

Rose: ‘-We need to arm everyone properly. The ones without combat-suitable devas and the ‘normal’ ones will help, too. There are no more innocent or helpless people. If you keep thinking as such, you’ll be the first to die.’

Turora: ‘-In the name of God!! What in the hell are you talking about?! We’re just kids!’

Graid: ‘-No. You were kids. The enemy doesn’t care about your age, sex or convictions. There is only one thing that really matters to them. (he becomes extremely serious while saying this and looking ahead) The complete destruction of this country.’

Miluna: ‘-So, do you know anything about ‘them’?’ (Rose and Graid look aside)

Rose: ‘-Quite a lot, actually. There will be a better time for discussions, though. The most important thing right now is to defend the city and try to evacuate as many people as we can from its vicinity.’

Feoria: ‘-Wow. You sure do sound like a war general.’ (Rose sighs)

Rose: ‘-I was one … a long time ago …’

Everyone is extremely shocked as the focus goes to the central parts of the city, the enemy attack raging there with full force as dull green energy shells, shots and rays are shot in all directions, blowing up the buildings around and destroying the people inside.

As pieces of different things are tossed around the air, Goran is seen, running forward when a shell hits right in front of him, exploding and throwing him aside, the young lad having escaped death thanks to his deva – golden-brown spike-like blades that have covered half of his body, jumping up and moving on.

Goran: ‘-Well, that was a close one!!’

He then hears a strange noise, turning around and seeing that there’s a whole group of villains behind him, pointing their energy weapons at him as Blackscale covers his entire body in spike-like blades and launches to his opponents, dodging some of their attacks while the rest hit him, neutralized by his armor.

Goran: ‘-Too bad for you, guys!! You’ve messed with the wrong Deckstorian!!!’

He reaches one of them and cuts his face very deep with his fists, kicking him back and grabbing his weapon that’s been tossed up, blowing up the soldiers around him on a molecular level, getting ready to finish the last of them when a blue spike hits the weapon.

The teenager looks at it with confusion when its energy filter starts glowing in bright green and he throws it aside, jumping back from the explosion, seeing the freak nearby, wearing the same kind of uniform like the deviants back at the beach. There are three large blue spikes protruding from each of his shoulders, one – from each elbow and pointing down to his wrists, and two smaller ones above each ear, his eyes glowing in dull green energy.

Deviant 1: ‘-Going somewhere, kid?’

Goran: ‘-You’re a deviant, too, aren’t you? Why are you attacking me then?!’ (the villain smiles in a hideous way)

Deviant 1: ‘-None of you will see any mercy from us. You are all going to die and the world as you know it is going to disappear!!!!!’ (Goran moves a step back with an angry expression, taking a battle stance)

Goran: ‘-Is that so? I won’t show you any mercy either, then.’

The two of them launch to each other, clashing their fists, the bastard’s elbow spike cutting Blackscale’s arm, kicking him back and creating spikes that are coming out of his palms, attacking the lad, trying to doge all of his attacks.

Deviant 1: ‘-What’s the matter?! I thought you were going to show me no mercy!!’

Goran: ‘-Patience, darling!!’

The freak only then realizes that his opponent has led him to a burning vehicle, exploding seconds later and ripping off parts of the boy’s clothes without damaging him. He takes advantage of his enemy’s temporary distraction, crushing a right uppercut in his chin, throwing him up and smashing his elbow in his face when he falls down, kicking him in the stomach and getting ready to deliver a finishing blow.

One of the villain’s spikes pierces his shoulder then, the one protruding from his other palm getting closer to his chest as he pushes him to a wall nearby, Goran managing to stop him for the time being. The two of them give their best to succeed in each one’s task – to kill and to survive.

Goran: ‘-You don’t give up easy, do ya?!’

Deviant 1: ‘-Neither do you!!’

Seiren’s brother manages to head-butt him, the spike almost piercing his chest with that but he moves aside, breaking off the one that’s already in his shoulder and twisting the freak’s other arm, piercing him very deep in the stomach and pushing him down.

Blackscale then starts to walk aside as his opponent starts crawling and trying to get up with zero success.

Deviant 1: ‘-Wait. (Goran stops and turns to him) You fight quite well, boy. And you remind me of someone. What’s your name?’

Goran: ‘-I’m Goran Blackscale, son of Serego Blackscale!!’ (the evil deviant is very shocked, hearing this)

Deviant 1: ‘-Serego … The Lizard Lord?!! You’re his son?!!’ (Goran nods)

Goran: ‘-Yeah, that’s right. But I don’t know anything about that ‘Lizard Lord’ stuff you just said.’ (the freak then smiles)

Deviant 1: ‘-It appears that there are other dangerous guys around here except the Summerbolts!! Things will definitely be getting even more interesting from now on!!’ (while he’s saying that, a group of soldiers has appeared nearby, noticing Goran and going after him)

Soldier 1: ‘-Hey!! There’s a survivor there!!’

Soldier 2: ‘-Kill him!!’

Soldier 3: ‘-Don’t you even think about running, kid!!’ (Goran runs aside and some of the bastards follow him, the others staying with their wounded comrade)

Soldier 4: ‘-Who was that boy? Did he do this to you?!’

Deviant 1: ‘-We’ve got a new target, boys. That kid’s a Blackscale and he’s got lots of potential!! We must capture him at all costs!!’ (the soldiers goggle their eyes in shock)

Soldier 5: ‘-If that’s true, we must contact the general and inform him of this unexpected development!!’

Deckstoru’s coast is seen, the focus going to the place where the six deviants were killed by the first attack group in the last chapter, a few girls appearing nearby, then suddenly stopping and looking ahead in terror as the corpses start dissolving into dull green energy.

Girl 1: ‘-Wh-what is this thing?!!’

All five of them scream of horror as a boot with lots of animal fur attached to it steps on the sand near them, heavy breathing being heard from the creature to whom it belongs.

Deathaxe: ‘-Silence, you scum!! (a ray of dark energy is shot forward, destroying the girls’ bodies completely, a beeping sound being heard after that and a massive hand, covered in a black glove pulls out a small disk-shaped device, projecting a multi-colored misty image, turning out to be one of the soldiers) What is it?’

Soldier 4: (vision) ‘-We have discovered an interesting target and are currently in pursuit. His name is Goran Blackscale. He’s the son of Serego, ‘The Lizard’.’

Deathaxe: ‘-Now that’s some really great news!!! I’ll be right there!! (the demonic general is then seen in full, covered in armor from head to heels, having lots of spikes on it and animal fur covering different parts along with a huge black cape, his small white eyes flashing amidst the darkness of his helmet) This war ought to be very fun indeed!!! Ha-ha-ha-ha!!!!’

‘A sudden new turn!!! The enemy forces’ newest target is none other than Seiren’s younger brother!! Why is it that they want him so bad and what fate awaits him?!’

THE END

#manga #fantasy #script #original #epic

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ecchima · 8 years ago

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Unexpected Meeting on Peace Avenue -Chap 1

Summary: After a bank robbery gone wrong, Jesse left the Deadlock gang and ran as far away as he could, using what little money he had. With no real destination in mind, he arrived at San Francisco, a city he knows nothing about. With only two dollars and ten cents, he just hopes he’ll manage to survive and that neither the police nor the Deadlock gang will catch him.

Meanwhile, Hanzo arrived at San Francisco at the end of August with the order to lose his strong Japanese accent while studying at the University. He’s barely gotten out and honestly doesn’t want to… Until he gets a crush on a lonely cowboy.

Words: 3,8k Rating: T Warning: brief sexual assault during the bank robbery AO3

Chapter 1: When San Fracisco becomes misty

It’s the beginning of the afternoon when Jesse finally finds a good spot to sit on in the heavily populated avenue. A little corner, just his size, where he would be protected from the cold wind and the shop owners’ view while still being visible to the crowd and not too far away from an alleyway he could use to escape if trouble decided to come his way again.

As soon as his butt touches the ground however, he wishes he hadn’t thrown away his jacket just so he could sit on it and spare his ass from the biting cold of the asphalt. Trying not to think about the cold or why exactly he had to throw his jacket away, Jesse sets his hat down in front of him and throws his last two dollars and ten cents inside. He wishes he had a pen to write on a cardboard piece but he guesses that if he had a choice, he’d rather get himself a blanket with that money. Maybe he’d steal a pen somewhere later… And food. Had it been in other circumstances, he would already have stolen all that, and more. He would have found an empty apartment and broken in before calling his family to come and help him.

Jesse scoffs. His family. He couldn’t keep calling them that. He’s better off without them, especially after what happened. He sighs and closes his eyes. Deadlock had been his family for a long time though, ever since he ran off from his dad.

He remembers how it all started as if it happened only yesterday. He’d been running from the cops that day, looking frantically for a safe place to hide. It took him a while but he had found one, only he wasn’t the only one hiding there. Deadlock members, at least ten of them, were all around him. He remembers how big they all seemed to him, how he thought he would die here and there. But instead of attacking him, they asked him what he was doing here, why he was hiding and then, finally, if he had a place to come back to.

They had accepted him in, given him shelter, just like that. They were just a small biker gang at the time, Jimmy was still the one in command and for once, things were ok. It didn’t last long though, the gang grew bigger and greedier. Rodriguez always wanted more while Jimmy wanted to keep things simple and comfortable enough for “his family”. They fought, Rodriguez killed Jimmy and things started to change. The gang still called itself a family but it sure didn’t feel like it anymore. It was a crime organization, dealing all sorts of things in the shadows, stealing more valuable goods, killing people on occasions.

Jesse only stayed because he had nowhere else to go…

Until the bank robbery, two days ago.

Jesse and five other guys had been chosen by Rodriguez himself to accompany him to the bank. It wasn’t their first bank robbery and it wouldn’t be the last, but this time they had chosen a bigger establishment. Everything went rather well in the beginning. There were twenty hostages at most, and no one managed to call the police. Rodriguez immediately went down in the vaults with his best men, briefly telling Jesse and Gary, a new recruit, to keep an eye on the hostages while the other three kept watch of the streets and entrances.

But the problem with Gary is, it’s that he gets bored.

That’s when things started to turn sour.

“I’m so boooooored, why do we have to be two watching those rich scums? It’s not like they’re going to try and do something stupid.” Gary whined, pointing his gun under the jaw of a young woman, making her look up at him. “Are you sweetie?”

“We’re not supposed to interact with the hostages, Gary.” Jesse interjected, incapable to keep his mouth shut, as always. “Lower yer gun.”

“I don’t take orders from you, McCree.” Gary spat, yanking the women’s hair, making her whimper with fear. “What’s your name, sweetie? I bet it’s as pretty as your eyes.”

The woman took a sharp breath and closed her eyes, a few tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Are you deaf, sweetie?” Gary asked, sinking his gun further under her jaw. When she shook her head, he yanked her hair harder. “Then tell me your name.”

“T-Tina…” she cried.

“See, it wasn’t that hard, Tina.” Gary said, letting go of her hair and patting her head. “Say, you’ve got quite the airbags down there, enough to fill the hands of an honest man,” he added, caressing one of her breasts. “How big are they, uh?”

“Leave her alone, Gary.” Jesse spat, his hand on his gun.

The other ignored him, leaning closer to Tina’s ear to murmur something to her. Probably something lewd seeing how she squirmed to try and put distance between them. Gary chuckled, grasping her boob with more force.

“Come on, Jess, let the kid have his fun!” One of the lookouts exclaimed.

“Show us the goods, Gary!” Another hooted.

Jesse almost missed it when Gary licked her ear before pulling away, almost. He was already fuming back then, and even if Gary had stopped here and there, he would probably have left Deadlock after that. He may be a criminal but there were things Jesse McCree couldn't live with and witnessing his “family” commit and encourage sexual harassment was one of those things.

He knew he would die if he ever pointed his gun on either one of those guys so he tried to keep it in as long as he could, repeating just one more mission in his head, a silent mantra to keep him going... Until Gary tore Tina’s dress open to show her breasts, then started to lick one of her nipples as his hand slowly went up her tights…

Without even thinking, Jesse aimed his peacekeeper at Gary’s head and immediately, three other guns aimed back at him. Everything fell silent except for Tina’s sobs.

“Put your gun down, niño. You two can settle your little different at home.”

Jesse looked at Tina then, really looked at her. Was his life worth more than some rich girl’s dignity? He mentally scoffed, when has his life been worth anything anyway?

“Well, would you look at the time,” Jesse said as he closed an eye and started to feel the heat envelop him.

“What about it?” Gary asked, perplex. He hadn’t been with them long enough to know what was about to happen but Jesse swore he saw the other three guys take a step back.

“It’s hiiiigh noon.” He smirked, pulling the trigger so fast he didn’t even hear the four detonations, only one big BANG before they all fell on the ground, each with a bullet right between their eyes. He exhaled, the heat was gone, leaving him cold like death.

Jesse fell to his knees, exhausted and breathing heavily. His right eye, the one he used to shoot, started to burn and Jesse knew he wouldn’t be able to see with it for the next few days. Despite how cold he felt, Jesse took his jacket off and stood up.

“Tina, right?” He said, looking down at the girl. She tried to put distance between them but nodded quickly. “Can you walk?” She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded again. Jesse sighed, “I ain’t goin’ to attack you,” he murmured, securing the jacket around her shoulders. “Just promise you’ll burn this thing for me, a’ight?”

He stood up a bit too fast and felt the world spinning. He could hear the guy Rodriguez took into the vault with him shouting, asking what happened. He winced. They were running out of time.

“Anyone here knows where the security lever is?”

“It’s over there, behind the health advert!” A man pointed.

Jesse raised his eyebrows at him. “Smart place. A’ight, y’all should probably run now!” He yelled, activating the system.

Thick steel panels started descending over the doors as a shrill noise resounded in the vast hall of the bank. Jesse heard the guy he left behind swearing loudly as he sprinted out of the bank and on the road with the hostages. The doors closed soon after the last person left and Jesse let out a breath of relief. He was still alive. The hostages were still alive.

He let his gaze wander into the crowd until he could spot that awful leather jacket, emblazoned with the Deadlock symbol. The man who had given him the position of the security lever had his arm around Tina and Jesse realized how similar they looked. Must have been her dad. It was good to know she wouldn’t be alone after everything she went through and he wouldn’t be surprised if she never wanted to visit her bank ever again.

Police sirens pull Jesse out of his thoughts and back into the present. He was still a criminal, he had killed four men down there and he had no doubt they would put him in jail. Or worse, execute him. This state wasn’t against death sentences last he checked and he really didn’t want to stick around to find out if he was right.

Adopting a slow and easy-going pace, Jesse did his best to look like he was just some innocent kid about to take a bus to go home. Except he wasn’t going home, he was running as far away from it as possible.

First, he took a bus to the city’s biggest bus station. From there, he took the first bus he could catch, not even checking whether it was going north, south, east or west. The destination didn’t matter, as long as it was far away from Santa Fe… Several buses and a quick nap later, Jesse arrived at San Francisco.

Jesse shivers, a cold breeze taking him back to the present. He’d still rather die frozen to death in the windy streets of San Francisco than wear anything emblazoned with the Deadlock symbol again. He chuckles, remembering the day Jimmy gave it to him and how much he had loved the thing. In the end, the item that gave him a home took everything he had managed to get over the years.

“What is so funny?”

Jesse jumps a bit at the voice, not expecting someone to talk to him.

“Nothin’, sir. I just realized I'd rather die here alone than stay warm with the people I used to call family.” He drawls, looking up at the man in front of him. Asian, not much older than Jesse but clearly richer. The kind of guy who has enough money to buy a new car instead of changing a tire, just because it’s cleaner and easier.

The man huffs and smiles, “I am not unfamiliar with the feeling.”

Jesse expects to see him walk away, maybe put a couple of bucks in his hat in compassion; but the man stands there, as if lost in his own thoughts.

“Soooooooooo, what brings you on,” Jesse pauses and squints at the sign at the next intersection to read the name of the avenue before facing the man again; “Peace Avenue today if you don’t mind me asking?”

“One of my… Acquaintances keeps insisting I go out more. I was hoping I could find a small restaurant and have dinner somewhere quiet.”

At the mention of food, Jesse’s stomach awakes, growling loudly and making him blush in embarrassment. He tries to laugh it off, patting his belly.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Looks like lil’ Timmy is getting impatient here.”

“Perhaps you could join me then.”

“Uh?”

“For dinner…” The man clarifies and Jesse swears he sees him blush.

He thinks about it for a moment, on one hand he could get a free meal in a warm place but on the other hand, he doesn’t know this man. Maybe this is a trap, maybe the man works for the cops or worse, for Deadlock. But then Jesse looks at him in the eyes and…

“I’d sure love to, if it’s no trouble.” Fuck.

“I would not have asked you if that was not the case.”

Jesse quickly gets back on his feet to avoid looking at those dark brown eyes any longer. How could he look so earnest and innocent at his age? If this is a trap, he’s definitely screwed.

He grabs his hat and counts the few dollars he has before putting it back on his head. “I saw a burger place on my way here, looked like some sorta cozy pub. Unless you’d prefer to pick something else yourself.”

“A burger sounds good, is it far from here?”

Jesse takes a few seconds to think, trying to remember the way. “Should be just a few blocks down this street so not too far, no.”

“Perfect, I let you lead us then.”

It only takes them around twenty minutes of awkwardly walking in silence to reach the restaurant but it’s all worth it once they get inside. There are a few customers, seated in couches along the windows and quietly enjoying their meal; a bartender behind a bar lined with high stools, playing a game on his phone and a waitress walking towards them.

“Dinner for two people?” She asks, hastily fixing her apron.

Jesse is about to point out how stupid that question is –they are clearly only two- but the man is faster.

“Yes, a table in a corner if possible.”

“Sure, follow me please.”

Once they’re seated, the waitress brings them two menu and some water before leaving again. Jesse looks at the prices first, then reads the descriptions, making sure not to pick something too expensive yet still filling. He catches the other staring at him as he puts his menu down and raises an eyebrow. He swears the man blushes again before hiding his face behind his menu.

“Uh… Is there somethin’ on my face or…?”

“No, you simply looked quite serious about choosing your meal. It is… Intriguing.”

“You never check the prices and compositions when you order?”

“Why would I check the prices?” The man seems confused, which makes Jesse laugh. Rich people really live in a different world.

“I’m pretty sure most people check the prices before they buy or order something.”

“Do they not just order what they want to eat?”

“What if they can’t afford it?” The man still looks confused so Jesse goes on. “Let’s say they earned 50 bucks that day and they don’t have money aside. They want to eat a main course at,” he opens the menu and points at an expensive burger, “25$ but then they realize they’re still hungry because this burger here isn’t filling, it just has foie gras in it. Who puts foie gras in a burger?” he asks, squinting suspiciously at the composition. “Anyway, they’re still hungry so they get a dessert, let’s say this one, at 12$. Surely after such a meal, they’re gonna feel heavy and want to order tea or coffee, that’s an extra 2$ to 3$.”

“I fail to see your point, this does not exceed 50$.”

“You’re right, they still have 11$ but then they have to pay the bus or a cab to go home, maybe buy stuff for breakfast on the way and they can’t do all that with just 11$.”

“I see…” The man closes his menu and looks out through the window before continuing. “I apologize if I sound foolish, I was not raised to see the world under this angle.”

Jesse studies his face then, trying to read his expression. He looks… Almost sad.

“One of the guys once told me that rich people live in a different world than the rest of us, with different rules and different issues but rules and issues nonetheless. Now I imagine that if no one told you the rules, it might be hard to understand the game.” Jesse smiles sheepishly, he’s never been really good at comforting but he just can’t stay quiet neither.

The man chuckles –and damn, he has a pretty smile. “That was pretty good, do you mind if I write it down?”

Jesse blinks, surprised. “Errrr, no? Go ahead.”

“Thank you. One of my classmates is from Nepal, he’s fascinated about humanity and the way we interact with things, including our pairs. I think he would quite like what you just said.” He explains, typing on his phone.

“He sounds like an interestin’ folk to be around,” Jesse offers, slightly uncomfortable.

“He is.”

“You said he’s your classmate? You’re here to study aboard?”

“What makes you so sure that I am not from here?”

Jesse absentmindedly scratches his cheek, “the accent kinda gives you away, du-sir.”

“Please, call me Hanzo. You are right though, Timmy; my father insisted I come study here for this reason.”

“Uuuuh… My name’s not Timmy.”

Hanzo frowns. “But earlier, you said…”

“Oh, oh no no no no!! I just,” Jesse blushes violently and looks away, he’s so embarrassed he wishes he could just disappear. “I just call my belly that, ‘t is not my real name.”

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress asks, making them both jump with her sudden apparition. Jesse’s so happy for the change of subject, he thinks he could kiss her.

“Yes, I’ll take the double buffalo chedar burger please!” He blurts out, pointing at the burger on the menu in front of him.

“I will take the same.” Hanzo says, calmly handing out his own menu.

“How do you want the steaks? Rare or medium rare?”

“Rare,” They say in perfect sync before looking at each other in surprise while the waitress nods and trots back to the kitchen. An awkward silence settles between them before Hanzo decides to break it.

“So… If Timmy is the name of your stomach, may I ask what the rest of your person is called?” There is a sly grin on Hanzo’s face, a bit hesitant at first but more determined when Jesse returns the smile.

“Well, people call me of sort of names,” he says, leaning on the table. Hanzo chuckles but plays along, leaning closer as well. “Deadeye, cabrón, handsome,” he winks; “but my friends call me Jesse.”

“Only your friends? Should I call you Deadeye then?” Hanzo teases, leaning back a bit.

“Only my friends and foolish rich strangers paying me a burger.” Jesse can’t help but grin, he’s starting to like Hanzo a lot more than he thought he would.

The waitress comes back with their orders then and Jesse has to use all of his self-control to eat slowly and not inhale his burger in one go. He takes small bites, savoring the mix of meat and cheddar when he notices Hanzo suspiciously eying his own meal. Amused, he pauses to watch as his companion takes extra care to cut his burger in equal parts with fluid, graceful motions.

“Why are you laughing?” Hanzo asks when he notices Jesse is struggling to contain his laughter.

“I’ve never seen anyone bein’ so serious about cutting his burger right!” He exclaims, laughing a bit harder now that Hanzo is looking at him with his big, surprised eyes.

“Oh, I see.” He answers soflty, looking at Jesse’s messy plate full of sauce and bits of garniture everywhere. He chuckles, “It is like you said earlier; we have different rules.”

“And yet, you still invited me to share a meal.”

“I am not sure why I asked you to join me but I do not regret it.” Hanzo says, looking at Jesse in the eyes, “You are good company.”

“Well thank you kindly, Hanzo. You are not bad yourself,” Jesse grins. “And this modest burger is absolutely divine!” He adds, putting a slightly bigger piece in his mouth for emphasis, making Hanzo laugh.

They finish eating in companionable silence, simply enjoying their meal as well as each other’s presence. It’s almost troubling how easy it is to chat with Hanzo although Jesse still fears someone might recognize him. But for now, he’s happy to forget about the cops, about Deadlock and about the cold night in the street that awaits him.

“Have you been living in San Francisco for a long time?” Hanzo asks after the waitress came to gather their plates and told them to go pay at the bar. “You seem to know the city well.”

“Nah, I arrived this mornin’. I’ve only been to Pier 39 so far.”

Hanzo frowns and pushes a strand of hair away from his face. “Did you try to take a boat there?”

“No, I went to see the sea lions!” Jesse laughs, standing up and putting his hat back on his head. “They’re mighty cute.”

“Ah yes, I have heard some of my classmates talk about it but never found the time to go there myself.”

“You should definitely go! I saw they even have an aquarium nearby with otters in it!! Otters! Can you believe it?” Jesse says excitedly, he’s always loved animals.

Hanzo chuckles and hands his credit card over to pay. “Perhaps you could show me then. It sounds rather exciting.”

“Sure! I quite like the spot I found on Peace Avenue, you can come see me here whenever you want. The pier’s not too far from here.” Jesse smiles, holding the door for his companion.

As soon as they’re outside however, the cold hits him hard and Jesse starts shivering, his teeth clacking violently. Damn, he doesn’t even know where he’s going to spend the night. He didn’t see any subway signs and doubts there is any with all these hills. He briefly contemplates breaking into a car to get some sleep but quickly dismisses the idea. It would be too risky to break the law so soon after the bank robbery.

Hanzo coughs, interrupting his train of thoughts and making him look up. His companion has shrugged off his long expensive coat and is holding out to him. Jesse hesitantly takes it and feels the soft fabric between his fingers.

“Why are you giving me your coat? Ain’t you gonna need it?” He asks, dumbfounded.

“I will be fine, I have enough coats to dress a small army.” Hanzo shrugs, “In addition, the color suits you better.”

Jesse looks down at the brown fabric, and back up at Hanzo. He didn’t pay much mind earlier but he has to agree with the man: this shade of brown just doesn’t work with the other’s long dark hair and chocolate eyes. Slowly, carefully, he puts it on and closes the buttons. It’s a bit too big for him, just like everything he ever tries on. He really needs to start exercising if he wants to stop looking like a twig. However, the coat is warmer than it looks and Jesse sighs as the warmth engulfs him.

“Thank you, Hanzo.”

“It is nothing, I am looking forward to visit the pier with you.” He says as he gets into a cab he had called after paying for their meal. “Have a good night.”

Jesse watches as his companion closes the door and the cab starts moving again, soon disappearing at a corner.

#mchanzo #jesse mccree #hanzo shimada #Unexpected meeting on Peace Avenue #UMoPA #ecchima writes

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shewhowrites-stuff-blog · 5 years ago

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This is the second chapter of one of my first novels. The story takes place in Seattle, Washington D.C. The main character is a 14 year old Jamaican ballerina who has been adopted by a white family.

It's Saturday morning, light streams in through the one window our dorm room has. The room is a total mess with clothes sprawled out on the floor, shoes randomly lying everywhere, chocolate wrappers, soda cans, and lots of other things. The result of the blast we had yesterday.

So I see, you're one of those girls! Henry's words haunt my conscience.

Which girls was he talking about? And what do I have to do with them? I suppose I'll never know.

"... don't turn your back on me, you!" Melissa murmurs in her sleep.

Somewhere in her mind, I think she's playing a video game, and losing. I am not sure what backs have to do with video games, but I do know that they're relevant to Melissa. She and I have been roommates since we were freshmen.

She was strangely the only white person in Pencey to steal a glance in my direction or do so much as to utter the six magic words that made her my best friend: "Hey, I'm Melissa. What's your name?"

I remember that day as if it were yesterday. In the loud cafeteria, plates chattering, people giggling, forks scraping bowls, full mouths wide open, the lonely dark-skinned Jamaican girl with a huge afro sitting all alone in the corner, a chubby white girl in waist high jeans, plaid shirt, and sneakers advancing towards her... Her red hair just spoke to me then. With her tan arm outstretched and a wide, bright smile across her face, she lured me into our friendship. I couldn't resist her special uniqueness (is that a word?). One thing I liked about her, besides the fact that she demanded attention, is that she respected my preference to not speak at first. A solemn hand shake, shy laugh, and slight nod was all it took for her to understand me. Even now that I am comfortable enough to speak, I still do that. And she understands. I walk over to Melissa's side of the room and gently tap on her shoulder. "Ash, turn the lights off and go to bed," she mutters. I giggle, she still thinks it's nighttime. Melissa tends to be grumpy right before she wakes up. "But it's 10 a.m. in the morning." I try to reason with her, placing emphasis on the word morning. She rolls over and stares with her bloodshot eyes wide open. "Oh my GAWD! I had a date with Charlie scheduled over half an hour ago." Who schedules a date at that time of day? And isn't fifteen to early to early to date? That's Melissa. Free-spirited professional social rule breaker. She claims nothing has happened and nothing will happen between them when I try and warn her. Anyways, she's not foolish; I can trust her... to some extent (that extent does not go very far). "You could tell him that you overslept." I advice her.

"Ash, rule number one of dating boys: don't show your crush the quirky side of you. Charlie can't know that about me. It's just the same as me telling him that I actually drool in my sleep -- utterly and irrevocably embarrassing!"

"Send him a text then, apologise, make an excuse, craft a lie, get creative... or just speak the truth." I say matter of factly.

"Like I said; I can't do that. I will have to make it up to Charls." She yawns and stretches, then she walks to the bathroom and starts getting ready to leave. I should probably do the same since my parents will be here in 4 hours or less. Our school's closing today, that's why we decided to have a blast yesterday. 30 minutes later. "No, mom. Okay. I can walk there myself. That's fine.--But I am not a baby." Melissa's standing at the door of our room speaking to her mom, well rather arguing whether she should drive here or not. They live in ___, a town which is 4 hours away from Pencey. Her mother driving here means waiting, and Melissa tends to be very impatient. Melissa sighs and expostulates, "That's great mom. Drive safely." Her mother replies with something I can't hear, then she hangs up. "Jeez, quite a drag. I'm going to have to wait for HOURS on end. Wanna go have a blast?" It takes me a few seconds to realize that she's talking to me. Either my eavesdropping or Henry's words had me in a trance. I smile and nod, my eyes feeling glossy. I was wondering when she would ask me that. Again, it's enough to let her know that I agree.

"Wait, what about Charlie?" I ask, feeling curious.

"Don't worry about him, I can send him a text. And you know, it's been a while since you and I had fun." She places air quotes on the word fun and winks mischievously. To anyone else, this gesture is covert, but to me, it's totally normal for Melissa to sound so ominous. It's another thing I love about her. "I have to change. And fix my bed. And pack up. And call my parents. And then I--"

"You don't have to summarise all of your tasks," Melissa interrupts my sudden excuses to stay back. "We've got the whole day ahead of us. Besides, your parents won't be here for the next 2 hours." Does it sound like we're arguing? Well, this is how we communicate. "My clothes are all dirty. What am I going to wear?" I ask myself out loud.

"My jeans, your sneakers and a t shirt. Simple." I frown. Melissa's clothes would be too big for me. Somehow, she talks me into it and I end up wearing a white baggy t shirt and light blue waist-high jeans, (it looks better than it sounds). Note to self: No matter how ugly your clothes may seem, never ever wear Melissa's. I might have said it's not as bad as it sounds, but it's not good either. I had to shower and dress in 15 minutes because Melissa kept nagging me to hurry up. She believed that the sooner we got out of here, the more time we would have to spend doing fun things. "All set." Melissa says after studying my appearance. I look around, expecting to see nothing but a huge mess, only to find that she cleaned it all up. I repeat: Melissa fixed my bed, stuffed my laundry in my laundry bag, threw away the soda cans and plastic wrappers, put the shoes in their compartment, and folded her own clothes. Considering that she's naturally a messy person, this is impressive. She gets up to all sorts of unusual things when she's excited. I just wonder where she's taking me and why it's gotten her so hyped up. She grabs my hand and says, "Let's bounce!" I didn't even notice her walking over. We're the only ones around, accept for the janitor, a few teachers, and the principal. Once our door is locked and checked, we saunter into the street. En le calle. That's Spanish for In the street. I learned it from a book I read when I was nine. Doesn't it sound fancy? Melissa stands on the pavement with her right arm extended, waving up and down like a flag, beckoning a none existent taxi. This is futile. "Why don't we call a cab?"

"Oh, I should have thought of that." She takes her phone out and dials a number. I don't bother eavesdropping this time. In 20 minutes, the cab has arrived. We spent the entire time staring at people passing by. It's funny how quickly people can come if there's food and money involved. In the yellow cab, an old lady with a lot of makeup and a church outfit is half asleep, the driver is playing soft jazz, (which makes me gag) and Melissa's on Pinterest. I suddenly wish that I had brought my phone. After a while, things get boring and I start wondering whether coming along was actually worth it. Just as I am about to suggest that we go back to Pencey and its high walls and loud cafeteria, we have reached our destination. Melissa pays before I can even think of it. Wow, I forgot to bring money, too. She cracks some joke about high school, which makes the driver release a forced laugh. It probably wasn't funny. She does that sometimes, trying to entertain people, and not succeeding. "Ash, where are you today? Wait, you don't have to answer to that." She's standing at my door, a look of concern on her face, clearly waiting for me to get out. I nearly prance my way out and fake a grin. "I'm in love. " I joke, my eyes falsely dreamy, then shut the door. The cab leaves. She nudges me in the ribs and takes my hand in hers. "That's so not you, Ash. Seriously, where is your head today? Earth. To. Ashley." She's obviously not buying this. "Mel, I am sorry if I have been mentally absent lately, but Hen- this boy, he said something... to me. About my personality."

"What was it that he said?"

"He said that he sees, I am one of those girls."

"The w word?"

"No, just that,--in his own words."

"You should have told me sooner."

"If I did you would probably eat him alive."

"You bet I would!" She exclaims. We're both silent for a moment. I can feel her genuine disappointment towards my delay.-- I usually tell her things right after they happen, but not this time around. I look down at my feet, she lets go of my hand and hooks her arm around me instead. "You know you can tell me anything, kiddo."

"I know, mother." It's only funny because she's ten months older than me. She laughs quietly, then louder, until her voice is a full-on forte (Latin for loud). Once she realises that I'm silent, she puts both of her hands on my shoulder, leaning against me. "Ash, it's fine. I don't mind." Then I laugh, really laugh. She stares at me blankly, as if she doesn't believe me. But then seconds later, she's giggling again, now we're both crazy. "Let's go. Remember, you had something to show me." I finally speak. Sometimes Melissa struggles to believe that I can talk. I do too. By now, you must have had enough hearing about Melissa and feel like putting down this book, but now I will stop. If you will, please don't get annoyed with the word Melissa; she's my best friend. In fact, she's my only friend. Perhaps I should start talking more about myself.

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recentanimenews · 6 years ago

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Bookshelf Briefs 6/19/19

Anonymous Noise, Vol. 14 | By Ryoko Fukuyama | Viz Media – Well, that didn’t last long. In a series about the heroine singing in a band, when she can’t sing if she’s dating one of the guys she likes, it’s best to end it. Or at least that’s what Momo thinks, anyway. Time to see who wins the battle of self-sacrifices. Elsewhere, it’s dawning on the band that they need to think past high school, and Haruyoshi is waffling about the direction he wants to go next. I won’t spoil how this is resolved, but it’s sort of hilarious *and* touching. And of course there’s Nino’s part in all this, as she has to deal with a breakup as well, in addition to trying to find her voice—again. Anonymous Noise never seems to lack for things to happen, and it continues to putter along smoothly. – Sean Gaffney

Ao Haru Ride, Vol. 5 | By Io Sakisaka | Viz Media – Sadly, going to the festival turns out to not happen—again—as Kou is once again being drawn away from Futaba, this time because he’s trying to help a distant friend with personal problems. And also possibly because Futaba is hanging out and chatting with Toma, who’s handsome and nice and also has fallen head over heels for her, something Futaba realizes not one bit. And so much of this volume returns us to the halcyon days of Kou being avoidant and difficult. At least Futaba angsting over telling her friends about her feelings for Kou is quickly nipped in the bud. I do really like the reverse costume cafe they do. (They’re right; Murao does look amazing as a butler.) Will this cliffhanger affect anything? Oh, probably. – Sean Gaffney

Ao Haru Ride, Vol. 5 | By Io Sakisaka | VIZ Media – Futaba and Kou had gotten close to confessing their mutual feelings, and he even invited her again to the summer festival they didn’t get to attend in junior high. But then he suddenly cancels and is incommunicado for the rest of summer vacation. When school resumes, it seems he’s actually in good spirits, but is preoccupied with his phone. Eventually it emerges that he’s helping a former classmate get over the death of a parent, and though Futaba thinks this is admirable, she nonetheless feels left out. The fact that this classmate is female is obvious but is held as a reveal until the final page. Meanwhile, a male rival must be introduced too, and so we meet Toma Kikuchi, a boy who Futaba accidentally groped, who comes to like her after realizing she’s perceptive, honest, and not as tough as she might appear. Standard shoujo, but still enjoyable. – Michelle Smith

As Miss Beelzebub Likes, Vol. 6 | By Matoba | Yen Press – No one seems to be more surprised than the artist that this series has reached six volumes, which results in a meta gag when Azazel’s assistant Samyaza appears, and they note it’s far too late in the series to introduce someone like him. He bounces off Mullin well, though—perhaps a bit too well for Beelzebub’s taste, as she worries that they’re both too shippable with each other. Elsewhere, the exchange diary between Belphegor and Azazel is actually not a half-bad idea, but too many cooks spoil a bit of the pie. Unfortunately, there’s more Eurynome as well, and trying to indicate she’ll eventually be shipped with Samyaza does not balance out her continued lust for young boys. Read it if you already are. – Sean Gaffney

A Certain Scientific Accelerator, Vol. 9 | By Kazuma Kamachi and Arata Yamaji| Seven Seas – As it turns out, the girl that Last Order ran into in the previous volume, despite giving off immense “I am a secret villain” vibes—mostly to Last Order, to be fair—turns out not to be a villain. She is, however, a twin, and it’s her sister who seems to have the villain card as well as the tragic past. It’s also startling to see the princess from the previous book captured fairly easily (possibly as Accelerator is healing so AWOL this book), and the cliffhanger, which involves repeated use of the food/death metaphors that litter the book, is really chilling. That said, if there’s one thing that defines this volume of the series, it’s the big ol’ fight in the middle of it, which is very well done. – Sean Gaffney

Dead Dead Demon’s Dededede Destruction, Vol. 5 | By Inio Asano | Viz Media – I admit I avoided reading this for a while. I still expect it to end with everyone either dead or depressed. I mean, it’s Asano. But as always, when I finally started to read it it was fantastic. The art alone is a main reason to read this. Plus, now that everyone is in college, relationships are allowed to develop more naturally. Unfortunately, in both cases this may end up being a mistake. Oran has bonded with the alien in disguise, and hides him by saying he’s her boyfriend… something that may be coming true. As for Kadode, I was sort of hoping that graduation would mean the end of the crush on her teacher, but apparently it means there’s nothing standing in the way anymore. Will either girl find happiness before the end of humanity that continues to be implied here? – Sean Gaffney

My Solo Exchange Diary, Vol. 2 | By Nagata Kabi | Seven Seas – The sequel to My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness ends with the second volume; the conclusion of the series is just as achingly and brutally honest as its beginning. Kabi’s struggle with anxiety and depression continues through its highs and extreme lows. The success of her autobiographical manga ultimately compounds the issue for her as she starts to feel guilty about some of the things that she’s said about family members and has to deal with the consequences of revealing so much of herself to a public audience. A central portion of the second volume of My Solo Exchange Diary is devoted to Kabi’s stays in two different hospital wards—part of her ongoing efforts to get her life back on track. Due to the subject matter of My Solo Exchange Diary, the series isn’t always the easiest to read, but it is still an approachable, compelling, and noteworthy work. – Ash Brown

Queen’s Quality, Vol. 7 | By Kyousuke Motomi | Viz Media – We’re down to twice a year for this series now, the same as Japan, but it’s making those volumes count. We get lots of Fumi being awesome (toilet brush or no), lots of romantic sizzle between her and Kyutaro, overcoming self-loathing and doubt, and a whole lot of testicle jokes. In case you wondered what all the “golden ball” stuff was. The beauty of this artist is that she’s not afraid to have things get completely silly even in the middle of a dramatic fight, and alternatively have the silliest moments give way to drama. We also get a lot more insight into Kyutaro’s late parents here. But, and the cliffhanger doesn’t quite tell us, will someone finally realize that Fumi + Fuyu = Fuyumi? – Sean Gaffney

Ran the Peerless Beauty, Vol. 4 | By Ammitsu | Kodansha Comics (digital only) – Ran and Akira are now officially a couple, and this volume features milestones like calling each other by first names, going on a real first date, holding hands, and Christmas. While it cannot be denied that the plot is fairly formulaic at this point, there’s still something special about Ran the Peerless Beauty. Part of it, I think, is that we see just as much of Akira’s emotions as we do Ran’s, and it’s often the case that when she’s nervous or embarrassed or unsure, he confesses that he’s right there with her. Too, Ammitsu’s art is very expressive. I loved a particular smirk of Akira’s (after purloining a strawberry) very much but actually laughed out loud at the panel in which her father finally comprehends that Akira is Ran’s boyfriend. I hope this one gets a print release so it might reach a wider audience. – Michelle Smith

Sweetness & Lightning, Vol. 12 | By Gido Amagakure | Kodansha Comics – I wasn’t prepared for the final volume of Sweetness & Lightning to make me verklempt, but that’s because I didn’t know the final chapter would see Tsumugi going off to college in Hokkaido. Before this, we got a sequence of chapters with Tsumugi at various ages, where we see her growing in independence and culinary skill. And, finally, heading out to experience life on her own. It’s very nice! Too, I really appreciated that nothing about the finale hinges on whether Inuzuka and Kotori might get together now that she’s somewhere in the neighborhood of 30. It’s clear that Tsumugi would like that, but to the end, this is the story of a father and daughter and how they have stuck together after the loss of someone they love. I enjoyed it very much. – Michelle Smith

Takane & Hana, Vol. 9 | By Yuki Shiwasu | VIZ Media – I know it’s contrived and rather over-the-top, but the meddling chairman forcing his grandson and the Nonomura family to live together really works for me. In order to convince Takane to go along with it, Hana has to honestly confess that she wants to live with him, something she later reiterates to Okamon, who is very worried about her whole situation and finally ends up confessing. I’m not sure Hana and Takane are really getting closer—for every sweet study session there’s a misguided, extravagant bedroom redecoration—but the whole setup does at least put a fresh spin on their arrangement and provides, in the chairman’s words, “a place for you two to become certain about each other.” This series continues to be a lot of fun. – Michelle Smith

By: Ash Brown

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shewhowrites-stuff-blog · 5 years ago

Text

This is the second chapter of one of my very first novels, centered around a fourteen year old ballerina.

Melissa

So I see, you're one of those girls! Henry's words haunt my conscience.

Which girls was he talking about? And what do I have to do with them? I suppose I'll never know.

"... don't turn your back on me, you!" Melissa murmurs in her sleep.

She was strangely the only white person in Pencey to steal a glance in my direction or do so much as to utter the six magic words that made her my best friend: "Hey, I'm Melissa. What's your name?"

"Send him a text then, apologise, make an excuse, craft a lie, get creative... or just speak the truth." I say matter of factly.

"Wait, what about Charlie?" I ask, feeling curious.

"What was it that he said?"

"He said that he sees, I am one of those girls."

"The w word?"

"No, just that,--in his own words."

"You should have told me sooner."

"If I did you would probably eat him alive."

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