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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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Sugar | Bruce Banner x reader

summary: he’s smart, he’s sensitive, he’s sexy, and he pays your tuition. sounds like the perfect guy, right? he would be, if it weren’t for that pesky thing of him being married. for most girls, it’s a dealbreaker, but you have a little secret: it kinda turns you on.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: smut, semi-public sex (in a car lol), infidelity (it’s in the summary y’all), choking, wedding ring kink, daddy kink, implied age gap, sugar daddy relationship

The last few minutes of class passed excruciatingly slowly, to the point that when you took breaks from tapping your pencil on your paper to glance up at the clock only to see it hadn’t changed at all, you wondered if time had somehow managed to stand still while your professor continued to ramble about, ironically, the way time dilates inside black holes.

“Before I let you go, I want to review the grades on last week’s quiz…”

You suppressed a groan as you waited for her to get on with it; you already aced it, what other discussion needed to be had?

Finally, finally, she let you all leave and you were already halfway out the door, beaming as you clutched your books to your chest and jogged out of the building to the parking lot. His car was waiting for you there, parked at the furthest and darkest end of the lot for some reason, and you knew what waited for you inside even if the windows were tinted too dark to see through. You were too happy to even notice the cold night air blowing right through your cardigan, jogging to the car and swinging open the passenger door.

“Hi!” you smiled as you hopped in.

“Hey baby,” Bruce purred, leaning in for a kiss. You expected a quick peck but instantly it was obvious that he was up to something, with the way he pulled you closer and slipped his tongue into your mouth.

“Bruce,” you giggled as you pulled away slightly, although it was kind of a moan, too. “What’s the occasion?”

“I missed you,” he shrugged. “Is it so strange that I missed my girl?”

Your thighs clenched together at the pet name, but your hands pushed him back gently when he leaned towards you again. “At least let me set my books down first!” you protested.

He chuckled but let you go, and you maneuvered to set your books down in his backseat, feeling his gaze on your ass as you bent over and not exactly minding it. There was a dark shimmer in his eyes when you came back, scanning over you slowly.

“Where are we going?” you asked, already expecting a certain answer since he had made no move yet to put the key in the ignition.

“We’re not going anywhere, angel,” he explained. “I didn’t get to see you all week and it’s been killing me.”

Of course, it was technically possible that he meant he just wanted to sit in the car and catch up with you, but the way his voice got deep and husky made it clear that wasn’t his intention. You bit down on your lip as you glanced down to the misshapen crotch of his trousers, letting your hand slip forward to rub his thigh and just barely ghost against his cock. “I missed you too, daddy,” you whispered.

You felt his length throb against the back of your hand, at the same time you heard him groan softly. “How much did you miss me?” he asked darkly.

“So much,” you nodded quickly.

“Show me how much,” he instructed, sitting up a bit to unbuckle his belt for you. You did the rest, unzipping his fly and pulling his cock out of his boxers. It felt so hot and hard in your palm, so thick you struggled to keep a hold on it sometimes, but you licked your lips as you leaned down and took the head into your mouth. He instantly pushed your head down further with a hand on the back of your neck, moaning as you swallowed more of him. “Fuck, baby…”

You smiled a little, though you suppressed it since it would interfere with the task at hand, continuing to stroke the part of him you couldn’t fit in your mouth yet. With practice you’d learned to take all of him, but it required warming up a bit first. That said, this didn’t feel like a ‘take it slow and fool around’ sort of night. He was already bucking up into your mouth and you could feel that he was on edge from the way his fingers tightened in your hair.

“Fuck, so good for me,” he praised with a sigh. “You like sucking me off in the parking lot like this, honey? Right after school? You think someone could walk by and see you with your mouth full of my cock?”

The windows were tinted, sure, but it was possible… and the idea made heat spread between your thighs.

“Just like that, baby, choke on it,” he groaned, all but fucking your mouth at this point— and you loved it. You knew you were getting embarrassingly wet and you didn’t even care that you were in his car in your school’s parking lot anymore: you wanted him to fuck you, so much so that you were starting to gyrate your hips to get some friction against the seat. He must have noticed when he reached over your back to spank you, making you jump. “Look at you, needy little girl— rubbing yourself on my car like a desperate slut. You’d better not make a mess, that’s Italian leather.”

He didn’t usually talk so degradingly to you, but it was definitely working for you, which became sort of a vicious cycle because as he mocked you for your desperation, your arousal grew which fed the very desperation he was mocking in the first place. You moaned around the cock in your mouth, the vibrations clearly getting to him as you tasted more of his salty pre-cum hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck, I don’t wanna come in your mouth— get in the back,” he demanded quickly as his voice became more strained. Not needing to be told twice, you popped off of him and climbed into the back; he wasn’t as agile as you, but he followed semi-awkwardly and slotted himself between your legs. With his cock already out and you wearing a skirt, he could rub himself on you through your panties— which was unexpectedly intense, due to how sensitive you’d become.

Your head fell back against the seat as you moaned lowly. “God, Bruce, please…”

“You must not want it that bad if you’re calling me Bruce,” he chuckled, leaning in to suck a mark on your neck. There was something so hot to you about how unfair it was that he could mark and claim you any way he wanted, but you got in trouble if you got lipstick on his collar or left something of yours in his car. The reminders of this affair and its forbidden nature just turned you on more.

“Daddy,” you corrected with a whimper, “I need you to put it in me— fuck me, please.”

“You’re sure you’ve earned it?” he asked, his smile brushing against your ear. You nodded feverishly, clutching at his shoulders tightly. He reached down and delicately pulled your panties to the side, groaning a bit when he saw how wet you were and beginning to rub the swollen head of his cock through your folds.

“Please,” you sobbed gently, repeating the words over and over until he finally pushed into you in one long, slow stroke. You choked on your moan— when you went so long without seeing him, he was always just a bit too big, stretched you just a bit too wide, went just a bit too deep inside you. You hissed through your teeth as you processed the pain, but it burned in exactly the way you needed.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “so fucking tight, goddamn…”

His hands gripped your thighs to hold your legs open, and you realized you could feel the hard metal of his wedding band digging into your skin. Why did that, of all things, make your walls flutter and clench around him?

“Baby,” he grinned, “you really did miss me… your sweet little pussy is fuckin’ gripping me, doesn’t wanna let me go, huh?”

Your face burned but you loved the way his voice sounded when he got like this.

“You’re not gonna let me pull out, are you?” he realized with a little smirk. “You need me to fill you up, is that it?”

You nodded, gasping a bit as he started to move faster. “Yes, Daddy.”

"You're already getting too loud, pretty girl," he hoarsely mocked you. "Somebody could hear you, remember?"

You whimpered and bit down on your lip. The head of his cock was dragging right over your g-spot, making your toes curl as pleasure twisted in your gut. "Can't help it," you explained between moans, "you feel so good… I love your cock so much, Daddy, please just don't stop."

"I might have to, if you can't keep quiet," he groaned.

"Make me quiet," you begged gently— and before you could even worry if he wouldn't know what you meant, he wrapped a hand around your throat.

The loss of air just made everything more intense; you felt fuzzy at the edges, like your sensation was blurred, and it made shivering tingles erupt wherever he touched you. You could feel his ring against your neck; fuck, it was everything.

He laughed a little as he started to fuck you faster and harder, hips slamming into yours until the sound echoed around the car.

“You’re gonna come, aren’t you? I can feel it,” he informed you through his teeth. “I can feel it around my fucking cock.”

You nodded against the hand around your neck, gasping when he gave you a reprieve from the pressure. “Yes, Daddy,” you cried as you clutched at his shoulders tightly, “I’m so close, please don’t stop.”

“I’m never gonna get over how sensitive you are,” he purred, leaning in until you felt so small underneath the weight of his body. “You love your Daddy’s cock so much, hm?”

“I’m gonna come,” you whimpered as you hugged onto him tighter, shocks of pleasure shooting up your back as he tightened his hand around your neck again. You weren’t sure if it was the orgasm or the inability to breathe that made your vision go spotty and dark, but either way it was overwhelmingly intense as it washed over you. Shivers erupted over your skin and made your thighs twitch where they were pressed against his hips, his belt digging into the sensitive skin there (although you didn’t really notice, too busy falling back into a silent scream).

The noise you made when he let go of your throat was somewhere between a gasp and a sigh, despite those being opposite actions. The most intense waves of it had subsided, and yet you felt like you were being pushed to your limits as he plunged into your sensitive channel with renewed vigor. Thankfully for your poor vagina, it seemed like he was close to the edge, spurred on by the pulsing of your walls.

“Please come, Daddy,” you begged weakly, “want your come in me, please—”

“Fuck,” he grunted, “I will, baby, you feel so good, fuck!”

You couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of his cock swelling and flexing inside you, his movements starting to falter as his head fell back— and, with a deep, throaty moan, he pumped his come into you. You hummed contentedly as he collapsed against you, catching his breath.

There was something sort of romantic about a quickie in the back of his car, despite all odds. Maybe romantic wasn’t the word, but definitely sweet for the way you twirled a wavy strand of his hair around your finger as he laughed breathlessly.

“I… didn’t mean to come so fast,” he admitted as he pulled his softening cock from you and slipped it back into his pants, sitting next to you and resting his head back on the seat with a sigh.

“I couldn’t have handled much more,” you giggled, “so it’s all for the best.”

“You can handle a lot more than you think,” he remembered, conjuring in your mind images of those times he’d brought you to the edge over and over until you were sure you would pass out and/or lose your mind. The memory made your cheeks warm as you cuddled into him, laying your head on his shoulder.

It was a comfortable silence as you relaxed against him, watching his chest rise and fall with his breaths as they started to stabilize and slow down a bit.

“Oh, how’d you do on your quiz?” he asked you, and the sudden change of topic made you laugh quickly before you answered.

“I got a perfect score,” you beamed.

"Hey, that's great," he smiled back, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead. "I think you deserve a treat for that."

"Does getting my brains fucked out in the backseat of your car right after class not count as a treat?" you laughed.

"I guess it does, but I mean something a little more… expensive."

"Bruce, baby, you're gonna spoil me," you giggled, nuzzling your head into his neck as he wrapped an arm around you.

"That's the idea," he explained. "Once I get enough energy back to move again, I'll drive you to a jeweler and get you something sparkly."

"When do you need to be back for her not to get suspicious?" you asked, chewing your lip nervously as you remembered that you had to be careful of those sorts of things.

"Ugh, I don't fucking care," he groaned.

You looked up at him, resting your hand on his chest in a show of sympathy. "Did something happen? Is she picking fights with you again?"

"Let's not talk about her," he suggested, pulling you closer. "Let's talk about you."

"What about me?" you asked with a scoff.

"Let's talk about you, coming with me to Tokyo in February."

"...what?"

"I have to do this medical conference thing there, and I thought it'd be the perfect trip to bring you along. I only have to be there for a few days but we could stay longer if you want to do more touristy stuff, spend more time together…"

"Bruce, I have school," you reminded him.

"And you're at the top of all your classes," he dismissed. "You can afford to miss a few days. I want you all to myself, even if it's just for a little while."

"I could say the same thing."

"And you should," he countered, "because this is your chance. Think about it: just you and me, in a huge suite in a fancy hotel in Tokyo, laying in bed all day, making love for hours—"

"'Making love'? Is that what you think we do?"

He chuckled a little. "It could be. Or I could tie you to the bed and make you come until you scream so loud the other rooms complain to the front desk."

You shuddered, knowing full well that he was capable of that. A few months ago, you'd walked into class with a lost voice and a new Coach handbag. You thought about that night every time you saw the purse and you wondered if that was the real reason he bought you new stuff on nights like that.

"Will you come with me?" he asked again.

"Sure," you decided with a little smile. "But you're too good to me, I swear."

"Not true at all, you deserve so much more than this," he refuted as he kissed your neck. "Next time I take you somewhere, it won't be because I had a work thing there— and it'll be wherever you want."

You were too distracted by his lips on your skin to really notice what he was saying. At the moment, despite knowing how incredible a trip with him would be, you couldn’t imagine anything better than this; the back of his car, in your school’s parking lot, with his arms around you and his come leaking out of you onto the leather. Still, you weren’t going to stop him from buying you something sparkly if he wanted to.

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x you #idk if anyone will read his but i dont CARE look at his fucking ARMS in that gif asgkjashgsjg #yes i made the gif and it made me so thirsty

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ushidoux · 4 years ago

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What We Inherit - Ushijima x Reader

Summary: Ushijima’s childhood has a greater effect on him than he lets on and you only just start to realize once you meet his parents. (~2.6k words)

Warnings: divorce discussion, angst with a soft ending, character study of a sort?, sfw

A/N: Ushijima needs more background so here’s me trying to grasp at straws for an understanding of his character.

---

Ushijima favors his mother, you realize suddenly.

Not favor in a preference sort of way - while you can tell he’s an attentive son (to the point that you are worried he is too much so, stiffer than usual and mildly anxious), you realize the reason why your gaze lingers a little too much on the details of her face and the way she walks when she rises out of her seat is because she is so much like him. Or rather, he is like her.

For some reason, this sudden recognition is groundbreaking.

After all, it’s odd to compare this small, unassuming woman to your boyfriend who frankly embodies strength, but the links of blood are there, and obviously so. You can see him in the same hazel eyes that seem to pierce through you, the smile that is soft and polite but restricted, and even the way she walks, back straight and shoulders squared in confidence but touched with a feminine grace.

When your eyes blink and reopen, he looks almost exactly like her.

“You took a long time to visit,” she admonishes him once he returns from storing away the fresh fruit he’d brought as gifts to sit beside you in the living room. Her tone is not exactly harsh but it’s not exactly teasing, and she doesn’t look at him while she speaks - she’s too focused on you. Before you can take the time to further dissect her sentence and decide if the tension you’re feeling in the air is imagined or not, she shifts gears.

“Is he good to you?” She asks you suddenly, her eyes that are his not leaving yours as she brings a cup of perfectly tepid tea to her lips.

It’s such a direct statement that you’re startled by it. It gets to the crux of your meeting without need for pleasantries; in fact, she hasn’t asked you anything past your name, and you wonder if it’s because she doesn’t care, if she plans to ask later or if Wakatoshi has told her all she needed to know about you.

You immediately eke out a “Yes, of course,” however, because it’s true. He is good to you. He’s been nothing but good to you for the past couple of years, and even though you’ve only been dating officially for the past year, he’s promised you he will continue to be this way for as long as he lives. It’s almost irresponsible that he says something so definitively, but you trust him with all your heart.

She seems satisfied with this answer because she smiles and sets her teacup on the table with barely a sound. “I’m glad.”

Her smile is like his too, you take note. When you turn to glance at Wakatoshi, he too is smiling down at you, filled to the brim with pride and affection.

---

The Ushijima family home had started off intimidating but had become warm, much like him, as time passed. That ease began with his mother relaxing out of a kneeling position into a seating position and finally asking you about yourself.

It turns out Wakatoshi had spoken to her about you, although some of her details were incorrect, and for with every clarification you ended up making, you could see his ears grow pinker and pinker by the second.

His mother, of course, didn’t notice, her eyes growing wide and nodding intently as you gave her more and more details about your life as though she were hearing things for the first time.

“I told you all these things, Mother,” he finally intercepted when he’d felt that the constant barrage of questions had started to overwhelm you, although it seemed he was the one being overwhelmed by the exchange between you two.

You gave him a glance in surprise, as did she, and then she nodded, folding her hands together, the stiffness and extreme formality returning slightly to her demeanor. It made you a little upset, the way she seemed to retreat back into her shell, and you pouted ever so slightly at him.

Picking up on your pout, his mother finally teased, “Wakatoshi-kun’s always been serious like that, ever since he was a child.”

It was a bit ironic to see this very poised woman also call her son ‘serious’, but you smiled weakly in response, reaching over to hold his hand.

There you noticed again that he was stiff even if his face was unreadable as always. For a split second, you wondered if there was a flash of resentment you saw in his features, but you decided that that too, you had imagined.

“I suppose I can show you some childhood photos. That’s what’s normally done at meetings like this, is that not so?”

Without waiting for an answer, she rose and whisked out of the room, leaving you and Toshi to each other.

Once she was out of earshot, you squeezed his hand tightly.

“She’s very nice, Toshi, you should have brought me sooner,” you whispered with a soft playful pat on his shoulder. He didn’t offer much but a soft hmph in response, so instead you scanned the room, taking in the sparse decorations in the living room.

Most of the decor was traditional and minimalistic and separating from Wakatoshi, you gravitated towards a display case in the corner. As expected, trophies and ribbons from his matches were proudly shown here along with other trinkets and knick-knacks.

What surprised you was a picture slightly tucked away in the corner of Wakatoshi, much smaller, smiling and clearly as carefree as any well-affirmed child would be, resting comfortably on the shoulders of a then-young man with a matching grin. Next to them was his mother, also younger, her hair loose and flowing, unlike the semi-neat bun she wore today, and just as genuinely happy as they were. Her arms wrapped affectionately around the man you presumed to be Ushijima’s father, and her eyes were almost closed, squinting cheerfully in the bright sun.

They looked so happy, you remarked. Even if it was in the past, it was a nice memory to be brought to the forefront, not something to be stashed away.

Unconsciously you reached for it for a closer look, not realizing your boyfriend was behind you, peering over your shoulder.

“I found the album,” His mother announced, peeling your attention away from the snapshot in time. You still had the picture in your hands when you quickly went back to sit, and jokingly, you pointed out:

“I think I found a good one already!”

His mother took one glance and for a split second, you could see her placid demeanor break, but then she let out a soft chuckle without further comment, instead opening the heavy photo album to gush about her perfect son.

---

The short-lived shaken expression on once-Mrs. Ushijima’s face haunted you longer than you expected, and you found that you were still thinking about it long after you had left the home and were back home with your lover.

“Toshi,” you finally ventured to ask, now under the cover of night as you lay in bed together just moments before sleeping. He moved ever so slightly, his heavy arm shifting from draped over your shoulder to over your midsection to make it easier for you to turn to face him, which you did promptly in the dark. “Did your mother ever consider getting remarried?”

“I don’t think so.”

You paused, carefully choosing your next words. You wanted to ask him if what you’re sensing, he’s sensed, this very small bit of remorse that you picked up. Maybe it was too much to assume, so instead you end up saying nothing.

He picked up on your need to say more and interlaced his fingers with yours, pulling your arm up so that he could press the back of your hand to his lips.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m not upset about them, not at all. Besides, step-siblings might have made things complicated.”

What you wanted to ask was, does your mother regret it?

---

A year and a half later, in sunny California, you’re seated side-by-side with your Toshi and before you is a smiling man who looks every bit as cheerful as the man who carried his son on his shoulders in that single image burned in your memory.

Again, you realize Ushijima favors his father.

Admittedly, not as much as his mother, but you still see him in the broadness of his hands, the animated and focused way in which he talks about work, in the way he listens intently to your every word, although his eyes aren’t as sharp as Ushijima and his mother’s - they’re soft, round and brown and they’re surrounded by the beginnings of crow’s feet.

Ushijima is noticeably more relaxed around his father, you note, but the same bit of tension fills the warm air when Mr. Utsui asks you when the wedding is.

“We haven’t decided yet,” he cuts in, speaking for you now even though you had reached a steady pattern of conversation with his father. You’re a little bit annoyed at the curt way he interjects, but especially at the fact that he does this, when you’ve been not so subtly talking about marriage for a couple months now.

In fact, it’s when you shift from talking about your future together in grand terms (let’s buy a house, let’s have three kids, maybe a dog) and instead specifically bringing up when to be wed that you realize he cares more about his parents’ failed marriage then he lets on.

A ring didn’t stop them from separating, he insists. To you, it sounds initially like I don’t know if I want to marry you, but you know in the depth of your heart that he would choose you over himself any day.

But the concept of marriage itself bothers him and while you sympathize with him, it’s hard for you to let go of the idea of a ring, a pretty white dress, and taking his name.

It’s with that same premise that he’s visibly irritated by his father’s abrupt joke, and you and Mr. Utsui are both taken aback when you see the visibly irritated expression on his face, but his dad laughs loudly to defuse the situation.

“Jumping the gun there, aren’t I?” he says, reaching across the table to affectionately pat his son’s shoulder. “You just look so comfortable together! In fact, it reminds me of your mother and I back in the day.”

The statement meant to palliate him makes the situation all the more precarious.

Really, it’s careless the way his father says it so easily, and you can see the comment has hit something deep inside your Toshi by the very slight tension you see in his jaw and the way his eyes narrow. It’s as though, in a single sentence, his father has both denied his childhood pains and plainly uttered a curse onto your relationship, and Wakatoshi won’t allow it.

“Please refrain from comparing us to the two of you in any way from now on.”

His words are controlled, precise and seething, and you wince reflexively. The sugary sweet, half-eaten stack of pancakes in front of you no longer seems appetizing, but you pick off a blueberry with your fork and eat it to give you something to do while your heart pounds.

What will his father say in his defense?

“You’re right,” Takashi says - he wants you to call him by his first name because you are important to his son - with an understanding nod, his eyes still kind despite the fact that his son’s look is almost menacing, even if he doesn’t intend to be.

“You’re not at all like us.”

---

In the quiet aftermath of the tense brunch date, you finally decided to give up on the idea of a wedding.

You could argue that there was always therapy, but you weren’t sure to what extent the old wounds inflicted so early and so neatly tucked away could be healed with talk and introspection. No longer were they simply wounds but reminders of the following:

Marriages fail. Love doesn’t always last.

You inched a little closer to him as you walked together on the beach through the night, unsure if your increased need for closeness was related to the chill of the small breeze picking up from the waves or because you were starting to wonder if Ushijima’s father was wrong.

What if you were the same? What if you did end up like them? Thousands of miles apart, with uncomfortable painful memories of each other and a son who repressed his resentment… There was no way to know, was there?

You stopped suddenly, your heels digging into the sand as you broke the pregnant silence between you two.

“Toshi,” you murmured softly. Still holding your hand, he turned to face you, his eyebrows just slightly raised as he watched you in the moonlight.

“I won’t talk about marriage anymore. I get it now,” you finally decided, your voice wavering ever so slightly unlike your steadfast resolve.

He looked into your eyes, again trying to parse out what you were feeling from the slight knit in your eyebrows and the very slight tremor in your hands.

“It’s cold,” he replied simply, taking off his hoodie and putting it around you. “Here.”

You frowned as you pushed your arms through the sleeves, your hands curling into tight fists. If you were going to bend like this, he should at least acknowledge you!

“It’s still important to me, and I think we would be different, but I understand your feelings,” you insisted, staying in place.

He had to give you something, anything. It wasn’t selfish to ask for a little bit of credit, was it?

You saw him flash a small smile, then lean over to give you a kiss on the cheek. Before pulling back, he let out a small laugh, the first since hours earlier.

“You don’t want to get married anymore, sweetheart?” He teased, his arms rubbing up and down your shoulders, and your frown grew deeper. This was an odd time for one of his jokes.

“I’m being serious!” Your voice came out whinier than expected, to the point that you were almost embarrassed, but it only made his smile grow wider.

His hands moved from your shoulders to cup your face, making sure that all you could see was him, speaking sincerely to you under the night sky.

“That’s too bad because I bought a ring.”

Your heart stopped.

But then it restarted, and instead of shivers, a new warmth seemed to run throughout your entire body with every new beat in your chest.

“W-what?”

“I want to marry you.”

I want to marry you. The words seemed to bounce around your now empty head, making a ruckus you couldn’t exactly think through.

“But you said…?”

“I don’t need a ring to prove that I’ll love you forever, but if it’s important to you, I’ll work hard and buy you a ring for every single year we are together.”

He must have picked up the habit of saying careless and deliberate statements from his father because you were now choked up with tears that you couldn’t wipe away because your hands were too busy resting on his that held your emotional visage.

“T-Toshi…”

“We’ll be different from my parents, ____, I swear.”

You felt as though your heart would burst, so all you could do was nod. It didn’t help that his eyes seemed to shine far too much tonight as well. Was it just a trick of the moon or was he trying to convince himself too that he wouldn’t do you wrong?

“It’s true that I don’t have the ring on me, but I want to formally ask you today before I dare put a ring on your finger,

Will you marry me?”

Again you nodded, tears finally rolling down your cheeks in relief, because the answer had always been yes.

And you knew for sure, that the two of you would fight like hell to be happily married after.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima imagine #haikyuu imagine #sfw #fic: what we inherit #mae.writing

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years ago

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The Hitchhiker - Chapter 1/4

Picking up a hitchhiker isn't exactly the dumbest thing Kurt has ever done, but it's not exactly the smartest either. When he comes across Blaine Anderson caught in a sudden downpour, he can't just leave him on the corner to drown... can he? (1756 words)

Read on AO3.

“Excuse me? Sir? Do you need a ride?”

Kurt flashes as confident and honest a smile as he can to the man standing on the side of the road. But the second those words leave his mouth, he hears his father’s voice in his head yelling: “Kurt Hummel! What the hell are you doing? Picking up a hitchhiker? Are you out of your mind!?”

And Kurt has to admit, the voice is right.

There is a fifty-fifty chance that this man, standing alone in the dark by the side of the road, is a violent serial killer. His outfit alone perpetuates the stereotype - indigo jeans, white t-shirt, leather jacket. He has an olive-green duffel slung over one shoulder and he's carrying a guitar case, for God’s sake! What are the odds that there’s actually a guitar in there!? If Kurt picks this man up, he has a greater chance of becoming a statistic than of that man being a musician! Kurt should drive away now without an inch of guilt, floor it without looking back.

And he probably would have deferred to his better judgment and stepped on the gas had it not been for a few things.

It's pitch dark out for a start. Only a handful of street lights line the curb, installed twenty or so feet apart, which creates long expanses of shadow in between. The road they're on is in the middle of nowhere, with trees towering on both sides of them. This doesn’t help Kurt’s argument any since it seems like just the place a killer would lie in wait for a potential victim. But, in that same vein, someone or something could be stalking him, waiting for Kurt to drive away so they can pounce on him from the trees. Then it would be up to the reach of this man's legs and his athletic ability to save him.

This leads directly to reason two: the man is a klutz. In the five minutes Kurt has been stuck at this red light, he’s seen him smack himself in the face with his own bag, drop his sunglasses (pink rimmed Wayfarers, no less), catch them, then fumble them again, and step in the same puddle twice. If this man is a serial killer, he may not be the most competent one on the planet.

Three, just as Kurt’s light turned green, it started raining. And not the light drizzle he has come to expect during his infrequent forays to San Diego, but an honest-to-God downpour. Kurt saw the man turn his face up to the sky, his shoulders slumped, wholly defeated by this new development. He put the butt of his guitar case on the toes of his shoes to keep it out of the mud, then attempted to wrap his jacket around it.

And Kurt’s heart melted.

Kurt is a musician himself. Singer more than musician but he has friends who play the guitar. His stepbrother Finn owns a Fender that he sold plasma to afford. Puck's Gibson is the only thing he has never hawked when he needed money. And Sam, in this man's position, would take off every stitch of clothing to protect his Blueridge if it came down to it. Kurt can imagine this man’s whole life wrapped up in that case, which he is now convinced does hold a guitar.

Kurt isn't a gun enthusiast by any means, but he thinks a semi-automatic should be able to withstand some weather. He may want to Google that one later on… provided he’s still alive.

And about that guitar case: it isn’t a plain, generic, black guitar case. The thing is covered in travel stickers and bling. It has a personality all its own. An easily identifiable personality. If this man is a killer, Kurt is pretty certain every human on the West Coast would know about it. He’d be nicknamed the Kitsch Case Killer or something along those lines. That case sticks out like a sore thumb. There’s no way a man carrying a guitar case decorated like an old-school Lisa Frank binder is getting away with swiping a pack of gum, not to mention murder.

To a lesser degree (Kurt tells himself so he doesn't have to admit how idiotic this idea is), this is the most a-dork-able man Kurt has ever seen. He looks more like a puppy than a predator (weak reasoning, he knows). But Kurt has instincts about people that are usually on the money. He has to give himself credit for making it this far in life. Kurt is tougher than he looks. He has taken his fair share of licks, and he’s still ticking.

Plus, he has bear repellent in the pocket of his jacket the size of a can of Aquanet. He feels he has his bases covered.

The man walks slowly towards Kurt's car, the curls piled atop his head hanging heavily down his cheeks the wetter he gets.

No, Kurt can’t leave him out here.

“Um. Thanks. Thanks a lot,” the man says, cautiously eyeing Kurt up and down as if he may be asking himself Kurt’s same string of questions in his head. “But I… ” The fact that he isn’t jumping at Kurt’s offer, that he’s glancing anxiously down the road, mulling his options even as rain pours down his back, puts Kurt at ease. The man looks like he’s trying to gauge if Kurt might have a weapon hiding somewhere on his person, contemplating if he’ll come out of this alive if he accepts this ride.

Ironic, but that proves that there are two sides to every situation.

The man looks about to step away and decline until a fork of lightning turns night into day for five seconds, a boom so loud following it shakes Kurt’s rental car.

“Sure. Okay. Why not?” He pulls open the rear door in a rush but still wary as he puts his belongings into the backseat and joins Kurt in the front. “Thank you so much. I didn’t expect it to rain this hard, or I might have stayed in my hotel room one more night.” He runs a hand through his hair, cringing at the water that sprays the headrest.

“Not a problem.” Kurt reaches behind the seat and grabs the towel he’d fished out of his luggage earlier when he’d done the same thing. But the rain was only a sprinkle then – angel spittle, his mom would have called it. “I couldn’t just drive by and leave you out here to drown.”

The man chuckles. It, much like the rest of him, is too cute for words. “My name’s Blaine.”

“Kurt.” Kurt extends a hand for Blaine to shake. Blaine looks at it, hesitates a second before taking it, still questioning Kurt and his intentions, Kurt assumes. Despite being stuck in the rain, Blaine’s hand is warm, comforting in a way Kurt speculates a serial killer’s hands would not. “Well, Blaine, where you headed?”

“Oh, uh… I’m trying to make my way to L.A. But you can drop me off anywhere between here and there.”

“Ooo. Actor? Producer?”

“Unemployed schlub, unfortunately. Currently riding my brother’s couch. He’s the actor. I’m the… the failure.”

Kurt pulls onto the road again and heads for the highway. “That’s a really unkind thing to say about yourself.”

“It’s what… well, it’s what my father would say.” He wrings his hands uncomfortably. “He’d also say I’m a disappointment, a waste of a Harvard education, a bum… ” He shivers. Kurt raises the temperature of the heater. Blaine glances at Kurt in embarrassment, and Kurt gets the hint that it’s not the cold that has him trembling.

“I know it’s not my place to say, but I’d stop listening to your father if I were you. It doesn’t seem like he has anything worthwhile to say.”

“How can you say that? You don’t even know me,” Blaine says under his breath, with an edge like a growl, the kind wild animals give when you stumble into their territory unaware. It sets the hairs on the back of Kurt’s neck on end, and he starts second-guessing this decision.

Relax, Kurt. The man’s just beat down. Exhausted. You understand what that’s like.

Blaine sighs, sinking into the passenger seat and leaning his head against the window. "I'm sorry. I know you're trying to be nice. It's been a long day."

“I understand. And I may not know you, but I know fathers," Kurt continues. "A father’s job is to be supportive of their children, no matter what they do in life. Succeed or fail, win or lose, they should always be in your corner. And if he’s not, screw him! Surround yourself with people who want to lift you up, not tear you down.”

Blaine winds his arms around his torso, hugging himself tight. “I---is that the way your father treats you?”

“Yup,” Kurt answers with a subconscious smile at the mention of his dad. “He supports me in everything, even the stuff he doesn’t entirely agree with. And when things don’t work out, he’s the first person there, helping me to my feet and encouraging me to try again.”

“Sounds like a great guy. You’re lucky.”

“He is," Kurt says proudly. "And I am.”

Blaine fixes his gaze to the road ahead as Kurt merges onto the highway. He chews the inside of his cheek, stares too hard at the rain-slick asphalt, not shifting focus. It's as if he can't bring himself to look at Kurt when he asks, “So, you think you’re a good judge of character?”

Kurt nods. “Yes, I do."

"How do you know?"

"Experience. I have a decent track record.”

"Surround yourself with a lot of questionable people, do you?"

"I guess you can say that," Kurt agrees with a laugh, thinking of the people who have come into his life that he has adopted as his own: Rachel, Dave, Santana, Puck, all of them rivals or bullies. Or both. But now, a cherished part of his found family.

People he hopes will miss him if SDPD finds him by the side of the road tomorrow with his throat cut.

Stop it, Kurt! Relax! You're in no danger! Everything is going to be fine!

Blaine shrugs, examining his wet hands as if he’s reading something etched on his skin. “Someday you’ll be wrong.”

“Probably." Kurt meets Blaine's eyes in the reflection of the windshield, flashes his confident smile again. "But I don’t think that day is today.”

#klaine #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction

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bopinion · 2 years ago

Text

2022 / 22

Aperçu of the Week:

“Russian warship: go fuck yourself!”

(Unknown Ukrainian soldier)

Bad News of the Week:

100 days of Russian war of aggression were on Friday. Pardon: "special military operation," of course. In order, according to Dmitry Peskov, spokesman for the Russian president, to rid Ukraine of "pro-Nazi Ukrainian military and nationalist units." Moreover, he said, Russian troops had successfully fulfilled their main task of protecting the civilian population in eastern Ukraine. With so much distortion of reality, one is simply left spitting. But it is not surprising.

What I did find surprising, however, was a side aspect that received wider attention last week. Namely, the reason why Hungary's pseudo-democrat Viktor Orban once again blocked the EU sanctions package, having previously pushed through exceptions to the oil embargo (yes, the European Union's unanimity principle is problematic). The reason is called "Cyril I." Who? Patriarch Cyril I presides over the Russian Orthodox Church, as Pope Francis does for the Catholic Church. So surely a man of faith, intent on peace and balance, the welfare of his folks always in mind. Not so. Because it was not for nothing that Brussels wanted to put him on the sanctions list.

When he was still called Vladimir Mikhailovich Gundyaev, Cyril I served with Vladimir Putin in the KGB. Excuse me? The latter's re-election as president after the brief interlude as prime minister, he called "a miracle of God" and all Russia's opponents "forces of evil." Excuse me? His personal wealth, based mainly on semi-legal tobacco trade, is estimated at $4 billion. Excuse me? He preached that the Antichrist is "at the forefront" of the Internet. Excuse me? He said feminism is a "dangerous phenomenon" that offers women an illusion of freedom, destroys the family and eventually the homeland. Excuse me? And finally, he blessed Russian soldiers who would never fight a war, but would merely protect Ukraine from gay pride parades in a "metaphysical fight for good." Excuse me?

You can't make something like that up. Good thing it's been neatly documented - properly researched by the Neue Züricher Zeitung and Novaya Gazeta, among others. And now this dubious figure not only continues to wander unperturbed through his own reality, but is also sponsored by a European head of government who wants to "protect the freedom of faith, which is important to the Hungarian people". And with that, this chapter of contemporary history perhaps even turns from the absurd to the positive. For European anger at Orban is so great that formerly loyal companions such as Poland are distancing themselves, the EU's unanimity principle is being questioned for disposition and a withdrawal of Hungary's voting rights is being considered, as well as punitive measures, up to and including expulsion, are being outlined because of a lack of democratic sentiment. So we'd better hurry to the beaches of Lake Balaton or to beautiful Budapest before another iron curtain falls behind Austria.

Good News of the Week:

It's getting hotter and hotter. Not only India is currently registering unprecedented temperatures. The heat is physiologically difficult to bear. That's why most people prefer to stay indoors. Where, of all things, a technology provides pleasant coolness that holds the record for lack of efficiency and wasted energy use, mostly generated with fossil fuels: Air conditioners. A classic paradox - current relief at the expense of medium- and long-term deterioration. What's more, outdoor units give off more heat than indoor units reduce the same. The bottom line is that they do nothing, on the contrary.

A logical alternative can be insulating building materials. They are effective not only against heating in the summer heat, but also against cooling in the winter cold. Some building materials are ancient, such as bricks. But, of course, can not be retrofitted, but only used in new buildings.

This is in contrast to an innovative foam that a Chinese-German research team from the universities of Goetzingen and Nanjing has now presented. They have developed a foam made of cellulose nanocrystals - also a renewable raw material from wood - that not only insulates in summer and winter, but even actively cools in summer. Depending on its compression, the foam can reduce a temperature increase or decrease inside suitably equipped buildings by up to 35.4%. And best of all, it can be applied on buildings retrospectively.

A second positive aspect of this good news is that science once again proves to be above the political fray. After all, the Sino-German relationship is not under a good star at the moment. But at the universities, exactly what the nomenklatura in Beijing tends to attach less importance to is taking place: Cooperation, inclusion, emancipation, collaboration. Teamwork of a diverse team at eye level, completely free of ideology and result-oriented.

Personal happy moment of the week:

On Sunday, storm clouds always gather in my mind towards the evening. Because the next morning there will be a Monday. So a new work week, which usually comes at me with a huge wave of unpleasant aspects. But not this week, because it's Pentecost. A church festival that gives even non-practicing Christians a public holiday, Whit Monday. So I'm enjoying a long weekend before the madness starts again a day later.

I couldn't care less...

...that Johnny Depp and Amber Heard, after six weeks of mud-slinging in court accompanied by the media, have now received a verdict that leaves both of them as partial winners. Whereby both have lost anyway. At least this time no black gloves or white SUVs were innocently dragged into the action.

As I write this...

...I am watching a cat sleeping. It is not our cat, but from neighbors four houses away. But we belong to her territory. And at some point she noticed that there is usually someone in our house. And that when it rains it is more comfortable inside than outside. Since then, she spends a few hours with us almost every day, and we have one sofa less because it is now hers. But since a sleeping cat has an indisputable therapeutic calming effect, no one at our place complains about it.

Post Scriptum:

Turkey no longer wants to be confused with a relatively ugly bird that is either pardoned or eaten at Thanksgiving. And which does not even exist in Turkey. Therefore, Turkish President Recep Erdogan demands that the front oriental country of two continents be called "Turkiye" in English in the future. Constructive proposal: Turkey agrees to accept Sweden and Finland into the North Atlantic defense alliance (yes, NATO's unanimity principle is problematic) and we all comply with the desired label change.

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flamingo-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Yours/His— Wakatoshi x Reader

Summary: Despite being completely different people, you found comfort in each other’s company. And after a couple of years of friendship, it seemed only natural that the two of you fell in love with each other. Even though you weren't the “type” of girl Ushijima Wakatoshi liked. However, you were the first girl to ever make him feel like that.

Posted: 08.14.2020

A/N: I intended this to be a short fluffy drabble...inspired by the song Shooting Star. But then, as I began writing, it all gt out of hand and I ended up writing 8K words...What’s more impressive is that I managed to write them in two days, so, that’s a new record for me. Happy late birthday to Wakatoshi, I guess.

Word Count: 8.6 K

Warnings: Smut, smutty smut. And curse words.

If there was a word to describe you, it was: wild. It was incredibly amazing how someone as wild as you managed to be in a relationship with Ushijima Wakatoshi. To his friends seemed only obvious, while the rest of the school thought it was ironic.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was known for being not very bright, and yet, the ace player in the volleyball team. He was stronger than most, he was disciplined enough to never skip practice, even disciplined enough to always hand in homework even though he wasn't the brightest student. He had a weird fascination with following the rules. And had his mind set on his goal.

Along the way, he has had a few crushes here and there, but those girls never seemed to stick around for long. These girls followed the imposed image of the 'perfect wife' according to his mother. Gentle, polite, pretty, dedicated to their studies, and supportive. However, that last trait was always put to test, since Ushijima's obsession with Volleyball was usually what made his relationships end. He never truly loved a girl enough to stick with her for long.

At least, not before you. The two of you met thanks to Satori. And it didn't come as a surprise that you and Satori were best friends. You were both equally chaotic and clever.

And boy, you were clever. Whereas you weren't precisely the gentlest, nor the politests, you sure were dedicated to your studies, and incredibly supportive.

Sure, you constantly came off as rude for addressing people by their first name right after meeting them, and you usually spoke your mind through sarcastic remarks, sometimes hurting people in the process. But god, Ushijima's friends admired your patience since you were always willing to help him with his homework and helped him study, since Ushijima seemed to struggle with complicated classes like vocab and calculus.

You managed to effortlessly come up with ways to help him learn kanji, and with such easy explanations for calculus. Not only your patience, but your passion when it came to teaching, it didn't surprise anyone when you told them you wanted to be a teacher.

"You're very good at it" Walatoshi said once.

Your constant presence around Wakatoshi, as well as him constantly relying on you for several things not only made your friendship grow slowly, but a sort of endearment took over you whenever it came to Wakatoshi. Whereas you were sarcastic and sometimes mean to others, you had a terribly obvious soft spot for him. Something even Wakatoshi could tell.

This different treatment made him feel good, if he said so himself. He liked to be the only one who was immune to your wild mood swings and sometimes hurtful sarcasm. Even between your friends, your jokes sometimes got out of hand, but by this point your friends knew it was in your nature.

The stoic, serious, and intimidating Ushijima Wakatoshi was the only one safe from the equally intimidating, laidback, explosive you. And soon, this gentle treatment not only got into his head, it slowly made its way to his heart. And after a year and a half of highschool, he admitted his feelings for you, not only to himself, but to Tendou.

"Oh, shit, I knew this was gonna happen!" Satori laughed. "Oh boy, Semi is gonna be so pissed when he finds out!" Pulling his phone at once, texting Semi at the speed of light.

"Why is that?" Wakatoshi said, hearing the soft clicks Tendo's phone made as he texted.

"I made a bet with him. He betted [Name]-chan was gonna fall in love first, I said it was going to be you. And for a moment, I thought he was gonna win" Tendo giggled mischievously, proud as if it had been his doing instead of fate.

"Semi betted that she was gonna develop feelings for me first?" Wakatoshi wasn't used to the feeling of his cheeks burning gently, and certainly, he wasn't aware of the fact that he was blushing, very much to Satori's amusement.

"Yes! And actually, she's not far from falling down that hill, so, now that I won my bet, I can help you steal her heart, tiger" Satori winked and hit Wakatoshi gently on the ribs with his skinny elbow.

"You think I need your help?" Wakatoshi asked, completely clueless.

"Well, normally, I'd say yes. But I'm pretty sure if you keep being yourself, she'll eventually be heads over hills for you" Wakatoshi frowned at this, confused by what Satori meant.

"Why would she be heads over hills?"

"Oh boy, this is why she finds you cute. It's figure speech, dude. It means she'll be madly in love with you"

"So, I should just keep being me?" His eyebrows relaxed at this and sighed deeply, relieved.

"Yeah, if you wanna speed that process, ask her out or whatever…I hope Semi sees his phone soon" Satori chuckled sheepishly.

Ushijima never realized how easy it was to be your friend. You were always there whenever he needed a hand, whether if it was for school or if he was dealing with personal issues. To the point of learning basic volleyball skills and knowledge to help him train on the weekends.

And just as you were always there for him, he always was for you. The thing about being as free spirited as you were, meant you'd have a lot of people chasing after your igniting freedom. And Wakatoshi was the perfect guy to scare off the guys who didn't have good intentions or those who wouldn't take no for an answer. Just like keeping you sane from the school work and pressure of keeping straight A's to keep your scholarship by distracting you, taking you out to play volleyball with him, sometimes he dragged you along his jogs around the streets, sometimes just to hang out in his dorm.

But then the fear washed over him like very few things in life. The fearless Shiratorizawa Monster, afraid of asking his best friend out on a date and possibly crossing the line. What if he ended up breaking your heart in the process? Or if he scared you away? What if things went perfectly fine, but given your nature, his mother and you didn't get along?

He hated to admit it, but he was terribly attached to his family. And the idea of defying or starting any kind of family drama unsettled him.

The idea of losing you terrified him even worse, though. And clung to the idea of staying your friend for years and years to come. Everything would be easier if you just stayed friends. Right?

He was afraid of flying too close to the sun.

At least until he did, and found out his wings weren't made out of wax. Or maybe, he wasn't even flying close to the sun, instead he was chasing after a shooting star.

His feelings for you got out of hand one night. One blissful night, in which he learned so much about himself as a man. And about you. By the end of the night, he knew that you were the perfect match for him, regardless of what everyone expected of him. By the end of the night, he was yours. and you were his.

The last party before graduating. Before he left Shiratorizawa and joined a professional volleyball team. And before you went to university and majored in history.

The traditional Third Year Graduation Party took place not so far away from your place, and as expected, this party turned wilder than the one from the previous year, as the tradition dictated.

Very much against his will, Wakatoshi was dragged to the party by Satori. And for the first hour he was beyond uncomfortable trying to avoid the drunken people and their fuckery.

"Toshi, you keep disappearing!" You sang upon finding your friend for a fifth time within the same hour.

"I'm sorry, it's not on purpose" He said leaning closer to you so you could hear him among the chaos taking place in such a small house "This much noise and close space makes me uncomfortable" He said.

"C'mon, lets go outside" You said, grabbing his arm and guiding him through the crowd "I could use some fresh air myself" You walked out the door, towards the front yard and into the sidewalk away from the people gathered in the garden.

Wakatoshi noticed how your steps were slightly clumsier and your cheeks seemed to be rosier than usual.

"Are you okay?" He asked, still not sure what was it about you that was different, but definitely noticing something was off.

"I'm tipsy, and I'm having a good time" You said clinging to his arm as you sat down on the edge of the sidewalk and stared at the sky. "But if I keep drinking, I'll go from tipsy and fun to wasted and cringy, and we do not want that"

"Oh" Wakatoshi murmured sitting next to you, his shoulder brushing yours.

"It was the vodka. I've drunk sake before, and normally don't get drunk this fast. But a single glass of vodka with juice and I'm already like this" You giggled pointing at your face.

"You want me to take you home?" He asked.

"Nah, I just got here" You sighed looking at your friend. "Unless, you want to get away from here" You said looking into your friend's eyes.

"How did you…" His voice trailed off.

"Ushijima Walatoshi, I know you, and I can tell you would like to be somewhere else but here. C'mon, let's go home"

"Didn't you want to stay?"

"I got what I wanted, I got tipsy with cheap foreign alcohol, and I wanted to have fun. I had both, and now, I'd like to have fun with you, Toshi-kun. And if you need to go somewhere else to have fun, then I'll gladly go wherever you go" You smiled, noticing how Wakatoshi smiled softly upon hearing you.

"Isn't your mom home?" He was worried that you might get in trouble for arriving home drunk, however, he forgot your mother was considerably younger than the average, and was a lot more open minded than most moms Wakatoshi knew.

"She said she was gonna go drinking with her friends from the office, and she told me that as long as I didn't come back drunker than her, then it was all fine"

"Oh" He purred "You think she'll get drunk?"

"Of course! Not drunk enough for it to be a problem, but drunk enough to not mind if I get drunk" You giggled.

"You want to get drunk?"

"No, not really. I'd like to stay tipsy for a few more hours, but I can do that with the sake my mum has at home"

"Isn't she gonna mind?

"Gosh, stop worrying and let's go! It's gonna be fine, I promise!"

With a single hop you stood up and offered Wakatoshi your hand to help him up. He chuckled, thinking how easy it was for you to be so carefree when he would be worrying about all the circumstances. He grabbed your hand, more as a courtesy, since he didn't have a single problem standing up, but still felt the urge to feel your small hand in his.

Once he was standing on his feet, his gut twisted and tickled upon noticing how you didn't let go of his hand. The sweet anxiety drew a wider smile on his face as he walked next to you, still holding onto your hand. He wondered if it was because you were drunk.

The party was barely a 20 minute walk from your house, so Wakatoshi didn't even have to ask where you were going, as he noticed how you took the way uphill, towards your place.

The wind was chilly, but not enough for it to be a problem. Besides, you were walking, legs warming up as the street inclined slowly. Still holding your hand, every so often, he'd look at you, blessing his eyes and his heart with the gentle sight of the absentminded smile on your face as you hummed.

He remembered the many times Semi asked you to sing a song with him and record it, but you always refused since you were shy and only sang when you felt comfortable and only around those you trusted the most.

"[Name], c'mon, your voice is gorgeous!" Semi said one time he showed you a song he'd written, and Wakatoshi had been there in the dorm when it happened.

Soon, you kept flattering him with subtle actions. Holding his hand, quietly walking uphill in the middle of the night, and now, the soft humming slowly evolving into singing. Your soft voice singing in a low voice, a song he couldn't name, but thought it was a cute song.

He didn't say anything until you finished singing with a loud sigh. He looked at you dreamily as you looked at your house slowly appearing on the horizon.

"That was beautiful"

"Thank you, Toshi" You whispered, savouring his name on your lips.

The hill was covered in small white houses, all of them looking pretty similar. In front of the stretching wall of houses, there was a lookout, decorated with a nice iron balcony, and one feet tall concrete cubes following the edge of the sidewalk to keep cars for parking near the edge.

You walked towards the lookout, stopping before one of the concrete cubes and stepping on one of them.

No longer feeling tipsy, you effortlessly hopped on top, letting go of Wakatoshi's hand in the process and balancing your arms. However, Wakatoshi wasn't sure if you still felt drunk, and instinctively stretched one of his arms to your waist, helping you balance.

"Easy there," He said.

"It's okay, I got this" you said, resting one of your hands on his shoulder.

Now standing on the concrete cube, you were taller, shortening the height difference between you and your friend. Not used to this new height, you gazed around you.

"Is this what it feels like being so tall?" You broke the silence as Wakatoshi looked away from the view and towards you.

"Yeah, I guess" He chuckled softly, gazing at you.

You locked stares with his olive eyes, thinking it only made sense how many girls fell for those sweet captivating orbs. Sure, he looked stoic most of the time, still his eyes were beautiful. Even more so when he was smiling, just like he was now.

The sort of comfortable smile that appeared when he was around his close friends, having a good time, not thinking of responsibilities. It was a unique smile you adored so much. And right now, you had that smile to yourself alone.

"How nice" You murred as your mind focused on his hand, still on your waist. Feeling the weight and the warmth burning through your skin. "Being this tall. Specially for a guy, tall guys are a blessing, I swear, there's something so stupidly attractive about a tall guy"

"Well, yeah. But finding shoes of my size is kinda of a problem…" You giggled at his remark. "Trousers too"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Japan isn't precisely tall-people friendly, is it?" You remarked.

"Yeah" Wakatoshi nodded.

"Toshi"

"Hmm?"

"Close your eyes" He looked at you and blinked a few times, confused, curious, before asking.

"Okay. What for?"

"Listen to the city breathe" You closed your eyes and remained silent, trying to focus on the sweet hums of the city, the traces of the sounds that brought a city alive.

"Sometimes I don't understand what you say" He said bluntly, closing his eyes.

"Me neither. And that's okay" You giggled opening your eyes.

You stared at Ushijima savouring the gentle breeze hitting his face, as he listened closely to the sounds of the city. Not noticing you were staring at him with a stare that seemed to melt into a puddle of adoration.

You leaned closer to him, kissing the corner of his mouth so delicately, Ushijima took a while to realize what had happened. And once he did, he opened his eyes and gazed at you, noticing the blush on your cheeks as your stare seemed to scan his face bit by bit.

"[Name]..." He whispered.

"Did you know" You cut him off with a soft voice "Satori and Semi had a bet going on?"

"Ye-yeah…" He admitted.

"Those idiots won't tell me who won. Do you happen to know who did?" You raised an eyebrow, knowing he knew, but had your suspicions that he wouldn't tell you either.

"Yes" He said coldly.

"And?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not—"

"Of course" You interrupted him once more "I should've known that you'd be on their side" You giggled. "Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know you like me. And I like you, too. A lot, actually. But always felt a bit scared of saying it"

Wakatoshi stared at you, wondering where this whole honesty was coming from. He knew alcohol had this effect in people, but right now you were moving a lot more coordinated and spoke eloquently as always.

"Are you still drunk?"

"No, not really" You sighed "But, we're graduating next week, and, I promised myself I'd tell you before graduation"

Something about you enchanted him so much. Your wild, untamed and spontaneous nature, sometimes rubbed off on him. Specially as time went by, he realized he was becoming less and less strict with himself, allowing himself to be spontaneous every once in a while, although, not as frequently as regular people his age were.

But this time was different. As soon as he thought about it, he acted. He knew that the less he reasoned his thoughts, the easier it'd be to act.

He leaned closer, one of his hands reached your cheek and pulled you closer to him, as he crashed his lips with yours. His lips pressing gently against yours as a surprised hum escaped your lips before giving in to the kiss.

You kissed him back, locking lips and breathing in deeply. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pulled him closer, eager to feel his body next to yours. He mirrored your movements and squeezed you, snaking his arms around your waist. Very tightly. Such closeness allowed you to feel the rise and fall of his chest as you kissed over and over and over again. He felt the traces of cranberry juice in your breath, though he didn't give it much of a thought, he was far more busy savouring the kiss itself.

The both of you losing all sense of time and orientation. The both of you got lost in the moment, feeling the anxiety build up in your stomach as you remained kissing desperately, as if the world was about to end.

The kiss that had been haunting him in his dreams finally happened, in a much better way than he ever imagined. Your hands moving across his back, as he felt your fingers brush his hair before you closed your grip on his hair, as your mouth fought for dominance.

Your tight grip on his hair, along with your tongue teasingly brushing his lip, and your body pressed against his, it all played out like an orchestra. Building the tension, kissing you and holding you close, suddenly wasn't enough. His body urged him for more, in a feeling he knew all too well, but wasn't used to feeling.

For someone who has had a few girlfriends here and there, none of them ever made him feel like this. For so long he thought love and intimacy weren't as big of a deal as everyone made it out to be. For so long he only thought of his girlfriends as companions, and never really felt the urge to kiss them, to touch them, to hold them close.

This feeling was too new for him, it made him feel slightly awkward. But you seemed to fully give in and play along with his needy contact.

You broke the kiss, panting breathless, resting your forehead against Wakatoshi's.

"Lets go inside" you breathed.

He nodded, as he wondered what would happen next. He wasn't stupid. He'd seen enough movies and series to know what would happen next. However, he was still so new to the whole thing. Not because he was a virgin, he wasn't. But because sex never appealed to him. The times he'd had sex with his ex girlfriends was mostly out of responsibility, not because he wanted nor felt the urges everyone said teenagers felt.

However, now everything was different. His heart was racing fast, his mind was clouded, and he felt his blood burning his entire body, especially in awkward areas.

He obediently followed you, as you still clung to his hand. You made your way to your place. Your house was dark, though the dim streetlights filtered through the windows, making it easy to find your way across the blue and yellow halls and towards your bedroom.

You stopped briefly in the kitchen, where you let go of Wakatoshi's hand and turned on the light.

"Can I offer you something? Anything? Something to eat, something to drink?" You asked politely.

"A glass of water would be nice"

You nodded and grabbed a couple of glasses and filled them with water silently, feeling slightly nervous at the thought of taking Wakatoshi to your bedroom.

Not because it was the first time. In fact, he'd spent enough weekends at your place, as you helped him study for tests. Sometimes in a big group, sometimes just the two of you. He wasn't a stranger to your house, nor to your room, not even to your bed, since he'd constantly sit on your bed while studying, and even sometimes he'd fall asleep and nap.

But this was completely different. Even kissing him felt slightly weird. Not in a bad way. In fact, you'd been fantasizing about that moment for a long while now. But, the idea of taking him to your room in this context made you anxious. Almost as if you were a virgin all over again.

You handed him his glass and jerked your head, as if telling him to follow you through the stairs and towards your room.

Wakatoshi definitely liked your room. He always felt at peace there. It was minimal, yet, everything about it screamed your name. It felt like a second home to him.

With barely any furniture. Just a single night stand, standing tall next to the mattress on the ground. Several piles of stacked books working as tables for random trinkets you've been collecting along the way. A small coffee table next to your bed which you used as a desk with a lot of stationary messily lying around. Despite spending the weekends in the Shiratorizawa dorms, your room smelled a lot of your perfume, and that was probably his favorite part of your room. A smell he resembled a lot to home. A smell he was so eager to get drunk of.

He followed you silently towards your room, as you walked inside, placing the glass on the coffee table. Wakatoshi replicated your movements. As you sat on the edge of the bed, you waited for Wakatoshi to do the same. And once he did, you nervously wrapped your arms around him, and brought him closer, kissing him once more.

The same hunger as before lit up instantly, as the anxiety building up in his belly only made it all worse. He clung to you, desperately, as if he was about to lose you.

A moan escaped your throat in the middle of the fiery kiss, prompted by his strong arms squeezing you against him. That moan made his back shiver, as he felt a rather familiar heat grow in his crotch.

You leaned back, without breaking the kiss, and your arms still around his shoulders, you brought him along with you as you laid on the bed. Wakatoshi leaned closer, resting his weight on one of his forearms against the mattress, and using his free hand to cling to your waist.

"[Name]" he purred in a gentle voice, breaking the kiss and looking into your eyes.

Swallowed by the darkness, your eyes shone with the reflection of the streetlight as you looked at him both devouring him with a tender stare. Inviting him to keep going. Only making his whole body get hotter and hotter. He wondered if your heart beated as fast as his, and if you were starting to feel as horny as he was.

Horny, he thought. Just thinking about it made him feel weird. Dirty. He'd never really felt horny. And now he was not only feeling that way, but because of you. His best friend. He wasn't supposed to be feeling like this because of one of his friends, was it? He knew it was wrong. But kissing you felt so right. The dichotomy only made him feel more and more turned on. Maybe it was wrong to feel horny for one of your friends, but he'd been a good boy and followed the rules for as long as he can remember. Maybe, going bad from time to time wasn't so bad. He felt an urge to misbehave and be spontaneous. He felt an urge to take you and make you his.

"Lay down" You said sitting up as he looked at you, puzzled.

"What?"

"You heard me! lay down, big boy" You said playfully as Wakatoshi did as you told.

You thought of crawling on top of him before it occurred to you to go to your mother's room and look for something in her drawers. You stood on your feet and looked at Toshi as his olive eyes seemed to shine in golden tones amongst the darkness painted with dim lights.

"Give me a minute, okay? I won't take long" you said shyly.

"Where are you—"

"Make yourself at home!" You said before rushing out of your room and into your mother's across the hall.

Being a single mother, and having your only child attend a school with dorms sure gave you the liberty of bringing partners into your home without worrying that your child will break in, ruining the intimacy. And you thought it was great. How awkward must it be to arrive home and find your mother banging some dude? Besides, you knew where her condom stash was.

You looked through her drawer and grabbed a few condoms for yourself before rushing back in the room. The anxiety building a knot in your throat as the condoms seemed to weight a lot more than they usually did. As you walked inside, you found Wakatoshi comfortably lying on your bed, eyes closed, and breathing in deeply, getting drunk with your scent.

The weep of the old wooden door caught his attention as he saw you walk inside, closing the door behind you. You approached the bed without saying anything. Kneeling, you put the condoms over the coffee table and took off your shirt without saying anything.

Wakatoshi's heart skipped several beats, as he forgot to breathe upon seeing you. Your chest now exposed him, making him feel thirsty, as his eyes traveled up your belly and to your chest. Realising he'd been staring at your breast, still hidden under a bra, he looked up, meeting your stare.

Speechless, his body paralysed briefly. And you began crawling on top of him. He felt his body begin shaking softly in anticipation, as his head felt lighter. He was nervous. He was excited, and delighted.

His hands found your waist and pulled you towards him, before trapping your lips in a breathless kiss. His digits were quick to travel across your back, feeling goosebumps surfacing your skin. Playing with the hook of your bra, and the delicate straps on your shoulders, he felt the urge to tear your clothes off at once, but at the same time, he wanted to taste the whole scene.

The heat was getting out of hand, as he broke the kiss and pushed you aside gently so he could take his shirt off before lying back on the mattress, and pulling you on top of him once more.

The blissful moment he felt your weight fall over his naked chest, all traces of anxiety and shy insecurity were gone. Now replaced with a needy urge he still felt ashamed of admitting. Caught in another hot wet kiss, you noticed Ushijima struggling to unhook your bra. You giggled into his lips before helping him out and taking your bra off.

He broke the kiss with a soft grunt. He sat up, as you followed him, sitting on his lap. He kissed your neck and your shoulders. You whimpered, whispering his name as he kissed and bit your skin like a hungry animal.

His hands made their way to your breasts as he held them firmly, squeezing them, and feeling the satisfaction of stealing a loud moan from your lips.

"You like this?" He asked, genuinely curious, as you nodded breathlessly.

"Don't stop, Toshi" you breathed as he kissed your jaw. "Toshi"

He growled, as your nipples puckered between his fingers, teasingly pulling and squeezing, as his name continued to echo the room between moans.

"I like hearing you call my name" He purred against the skin of your neck.

"Oh, you're in for a ride, babe. I'm just getting started" You chuckled.

Hearing you call him that made his heart squeeze dearly. Babe. He never actually had his ex girlfriends call him anything but by his first name. God, his girlfriends were so unbearably polite, and his relationships were so short, they never got to stick around long enough to give him any sort of pet name.

"You okay?" You asked upon noticing how he had been staring at you for a few seconds, as he tried to assimilate those feelings of passion and endearment consuming him.

"Yeah" He purred "You're beautiful"

"Gosh, are you always this sweet to your girlfriends?" You whimpered kissing the corner of his mouth.

"Just you," He said, closing his eyes, enjoying the trail of delicate kisses you left across his face.

"Kiss me, Toshi" You murmured "I want you so bad, babe"

His arms around you squeezed you once more, as he desperately kissed you once more.

"You've got me, darling" he whispered between kisses.

Wakatoshi swallowed your moans into the kiss, as his hands kept traveling up and down your body. Your warmth around him, your smell caressing him delicately, and your lips melting into his, with the purest of feelings melting all around you.

He had never felt like this before. He had never felt so eager to feel someone against his burning skin. He never felt the desire to pleasure someone else for his own pleasure. This newfound passion burned so good, he could understand how people could easily become addicted to sex.

He broke the kiss, cupping your cheek in one of his big hands, as he kissed your cheeks, going down your jaw and neck. He stopped there and snuggled his face on the crook of your neck, and took a deep breath, feeling like the world was spinning too fast. He felt euphoric, ecstatic, marveled.

"What is it?" You broke the silence, brushing his hair with your fingers.

"I'm enjoying this" He purred, squeezing you once more, as you kissed his head and hugged him back.

"You're adorable" You admitted.

"Thanks," He said, satisfied.

"Toshi?" You broke the hug, looking at him in the eye, and feeling your cheeks blush at the thought of what you were about to ask. This made you feel particularly silly, since you'd done this several times before, and you hadn't felt this shy in a long time.

"Yes, darling?" He said looking into your eyes.

"Let me do something for you"

"What is it?"

"Do you ever not ask questions?" Your voice suddenly was loud with amusement.

"I don't think so, no" He chuckled awkwardly.

"Such a curious mind, are you not? How precious, how delicious" You sang.

"You're talking weirdly again, [Name]" He said amused by how dreamily you looked when you suddenly started talking like that.

"I'm not gonna apologise for spending my free time reading poetry and writing poetic prose" You snapped, idly playing with the button of his jeans.

"You should write a book" he said, noticing the way your fingers were moving, trying to delicately undo his jeans.

"Oh, I'm gonna. Just you wait" He felt nervous and hot as your fingers lingered in his crotch, as he felt his erection keep throbbing in anticipation.

"I've never asked you but, what do you write about?" He stuttered, trying to distract himself from the gentle touch of your hands against him.

"So many years of friendship and you've never asked. That is true. That's true for you and pretty much all of my friends, except for Semi. But because he writes too. Although, he writes music. I write about my life and the people in it" Using your speech to distract him and to calm your nerves, you finally brought yourself to undo his jeans, stealing a quick growl from Wakatoshi.

"Have you written something about me?" He asked, feeling his head turn feverish with desire, as your fingers dragged the zipper down, releasing his still clothed erection.

"If I had a coin for every single question that comes from your beautiful lips…" Following your words, your eyes locked on his swollen lips, as you bit yours, feeling your heart beat hard against your chest "Lay down, babe"

"[Name], what are you—"

"Relax, if you trust me, close your eyes" Your voice was once more as a soft seductive purr. And as Wakatoshi did as you told, his face blushed, burning aggressively.

"I trust you with everything I've got" Your touch caressing his erection as you pulled down his underwear, enough for his dick to spring free.

"God, you're big" You gasped breathless.

"Ah, [Name], you-you don't have to—" He began, and stopped, gasping, when he felt your lips gently lick and kiss the head.

"But I want this. I want you to enjoy the night" Your breath hit his sensitive skin, as his breath shook nervously.

"I've been enjoying this since the moment I saw you" He admitted, his face blushed and his eyes shut tight as he felt your mouth taking him in, slowly at first "Fuck, [Name]"

You kept going, trying your best to slowly make your way down his length. Your jaw was beginning to feel numb, as you painfully bobbed your head. Motivated by the sweet obscene sounds Wakatoshi let out. Your name echoing every now and then. Looking up, you managed to gaze at Toshi, peeking through your lashes, as the image of his face flushed, consumed by lust, only added to the heat building between your legs.

As you got used to the gagging, and his length, it became easier for you to keep going. Sometimes swallowing to tighten your grip around his dick, and making him grunt louder than ever. His hand played with your hair, as you kept going and going. His heart beating faster by the second as he began feeling his orgasm approaching.

"[Name], stop" He gasped breathless "Come here, darling. I-Im close" He whined, however, you ignored him and sped up your pace "Ple-please, baby" He begged.

He pushed his head back, rocking his hips, making his cock go deeper into your mouth. Hands gripping firmly to the bed sheets. His body shaking in ecstasy, as he felt closer and closer to his release. He came inside your mouth, as his warm cum tickled the back of your mouth as it shot down your throat. You swallowed, savoring his salty bitter release. The sound of his moans tickling your belly.

"Did you like it?" You coughed, your voice raspy.

"Ye-yeah" He gasped "You didn't listen to me, though"

"Oh, I didn't have any intention of doing so" You admitted, smiling satisfied at him.

"I've never had anyone do that to me" He said, finally catching his breath, as the world regained its focus again and he saw your cheeky smile.

"Well" you shrugged "you had a thing for sweet and shy virgin girls, so, it shouldn't come as a surprise"

"You aren't like that," He continued.

"Of course not"

"Come here, it's my turn" His gaze suddenly turned darker, sending shivers down your spine as you did as he said.

He hooked an arm around your waist and swiftly threw you to the mattress as he got up on his knees and took off his jeans along with his underwear before leaning down and doing the same to you.

His fingers lingered on the hem of your panties once he took off your jeans and proceeded to kiss your belly. His lips drawing soft patterns on your skin as his fingers played with the fabric of your panties as you gasped and gasped in anticipation.

He began pulling down your panties, and felt his hit breath close to your sex as you bit your lip, wondering what did he have in mind.

He kissed your folds before one of his fingers began exploring your slit, as his lips and tongue focused on your clit.

"[Name], you're so wet" he purred before kissing your clit once more.

"Yeah, well...that's your fault, pretty boy" you gasped as one of his fingers effortlessly slid inside you, stretching your walls.

He moaned against your skin, upon feeling your warmth contract around his fingers, as a second digit made its way inside.

"Toshi," you cried, running your hands through his hair as he looked up. His now lustful honey eyes looking at you like a predator gazing at its prey "Toshi, that feels so good" you said breathlessly before collapsing your head on the pillow.

God, what were you doing to him? This was so unlike him. He was usually so quiet, so polite, so squared, always playing by the rules with a weird fascination. But now, he was acting on pure instinct. Your smell, your warmth, the sound of your voice, it all was driving him crazy. He was letting his most primitive judgment take over as he mindlessly pleasured you with his tongue and fingers making you reach your orgasm.

"To-Toshi" You whined feeling the buildup of your climax, tightening your grip on his hair and arching your back, shaking uncontrollably as your sight blurred, the loudest of moans escaped your throat as everything began to burn in the most delicious of ways.

Your walls squeezing his fingers, trapping him, as he bit your clit gently, making you moan even louder due to the overstimulation.

He smiled proudly at himself, as you returned from your high. Glad that he'd made you cum so effortlessly, feeling so unbearably turned on by your needy cries. He pulled his fingers out of you, covered in slick and licked them clean before crawling on top of you.

You were quick to wrap your arms around him and pull him close. Desperately kissing his lips in a passionate messy kiss. He could tell you were breathless, and completely undone underneath him, but still needy, clinging to him desperately as you wrap your legs around his hips and bring him closer.

"[Name]" he gasps, feeling your wet folds rubbing and dripping all over his erection accidentally, thinking he might lose control any time and just take you raw. "Do you have—"

"Coffee table" you breathe before he can even finish.

He moves quickly and swiftly off of you, grabbing one of the condoms and opening it hastily.

"Wait, let me do this" you say with a lewd voice, as Wakatoshi gazes at you. Playfully you take the condom off his hands and gently run your fingers through his erection. The idea of taking all of him both excited and terrified you, and tried not to think much about it by slowly unfolding the condom along his length, your fingers lingering teasingly and tickling him as he growled lowly.

"God, [Name], what're you doing to me?" He purred leaning down and kissing you feverishly as once more you wrapped your legs around his waist and he positioned himself. "Can I?"

"Fuck yes. Yes, yes, please" you begged, as he pushed his shaft inside your folds, slowly, gently.

He knew he was a big guy. Big enough to not being able to fully go inside without hurting his girlfriend in turn. So, he expected you to tell him when you'd had enough of his length. However, you didn't. The deeper he went, the more you clawed your nails to his biceps.

"When you want me to stop, just say it"

"No, I want all of you" You whined, making his erection throb inside you

"Doesn't it hurt?" He purred, his eyes looking into yours.

"It does, but it feels so good. Please don't stop, Toshi, keep going" You breathed "Please"

He felt a shiver run down his back as he kept going. Your moans getting louder and your voice going a few notes higher, your face blushed, eyes shut. He was captivated by your look. You'd gone from enchanting and teasing siren to a completely submissive and shy doll. You gasped his name once he fully went inside, enjoying your warmth all along his dick.

He pulled out slowly before thrusting back in at the same speed as before. Once you'd gotten used to his length, you were dripping wet with arousal and opened your eyes to meet his.

"Toshi, faster" you whispered with the neediest of voices, tickling his gut.

"Darling I—"

"Babe, please. I'm gonna be fine" Hearing the sweet sound of your voice dripping with lust made it hard for him to disobey.

And as he sped up, your moans did too. He was beginning to feel a loss of control, as his thrust not only sped up, but became stronger. Your moans, washed with pleasure, soon got mixed with painful wines. Upon hearing the first one, he stopped at once.

"I-I'm sorry...are you—" He whispered.

"Yeah. Keep going. Toshi, it feels so fucking good, I swear. Don't stop babe" You begged as he began moving once more, pounding you, just like before. Stretching you, hitting you in the right places, as your toes curled un pleasure.

"Fuck, [Name]" Wakatoshi purred against your ear bwfore kissing your neck. "No girl has ever taken all of me before"

"Cowards" You sighed, swallowing a moan "You know what that means?"

Wakatoshi brushed his nose against yours and looked into your eyes, drowned in lust, with clear traces of affection melting together.

"What?"

"You're mine, and only mine" You cupped his face in your hands and brought him close to you. Kissing him in a rather sweet kiss, as he kept thrusting in and out.

"That's fine by me" He said between breaths before kissing you once more. As you moaned into his mouth, you swallowed his low grunts, both of your passions burning together.

You broke the kiss, and locked.eyes with him as he pulled out ready to lush his length back in

"And I'm yours, Wakatoshi" You said, before a loud moan escaped your lips as Toshi filled you up, stronger than before. His heart squeezing, as he stole a breathless kiss from your lips.

He whispered your name between kisses as his pace quickened. Your moans getting progressively louder and louder, as sweet nothings escaped his lips. Hypnotizing you, your hearts beating fast and synchronized. Your nails clawing on his skin, as he felt his orgasm build up once more. Giving in to the sound of your moans, and the arching of your back, it didn't take long for him to reach his second release. He came, burying his face in your neck as you gasped for air.

"Toshi, please. Don't stop. I'm close"

"[Name]" He panted as he sped up, stronger and faster than before. Your arms around his shoulders squeezed, as your nails dug into his skin. His name escaping your lips in tasty moans as you felt your core burn. Just like before, your walls tightened. He groaned loudly, feeling how your core closed in around his erection, squeezing him deliciously as you rode your orgasm. He kissed your neck, as your back and neck arched.

Your grip softened, as your body relaxed, breathing deeply, trying to catch your breath. Wakatoshi kissed you, tenderly, as you regained focus of the world. Still inside you, you tightened your legs around his hips to keep him from slipping out. You brushed his hair, melting your lips into his in a sweet gentle kiss.

He wished to remain like this forever. Just the both of you, caught in an euphoric ecstasy. Vulnerable, and exposed, clinging to that moment with sleepy kisses and sweet nothings. He finally slipped out and lied in bed next to you. Wrapping his arms around you, still wanting to feel every inch of your body against his. Agitated breaths filling the silence in the room, as fingers entwined mindlessly. Legs tangled.

Wakatoshi had never felt this much bliss in this entire life. He could stay like this forever, holding you close to him. You stared into each other's eyes, understanding how each other felt, without the need for words. He wondered if this was what people called intimacy. He felt so incredibly vulnerable, however, he knew everything was going to be okay. He felt safe and comfortable with you, and wondered if you felt as vulnerable as him.

"[Name]" wakatoshi broke the silence "didn't that...hurt?"

"It did, but it felt so good. Toshi, you have no idea how much I enjoyed that" You sighed, snuggling your face against his neck

"Oh, god. Good. I was worried I'd hurt you" He sighed.

"Did you?"

"Huh?" He looked at you clueless, suddenly forgetting what you'd just said.

"Enjoy it?" You asked.

"I've never had sex like that before" Ghb e murmured looking away from your eyes.

"Define that" you giggled.

"It was great. It was different to what I'm used to. I really enjoyed it"

"What are you used to?" Wakatoshi remained pensative for several seconds, recalling the memories of the times he'd sex with his exes.

"Shy, silent, a bit...robotic"

"Damn, Toshi. Did you actually like any of the girls you fucked?" You snapped as Wakatoshi looked at you in the eye.

"You" he said bluntly, as you felt yourself blush wildly in a single second.

"Other than me, silly. But thank you"

"I-I...I think so. I dont know. I've never liked a girl as much as I like you, that much is true as well"

"Terrible decision, really…" You chuckled.

"Are you kidding me? You're perfect, despite what everyone says about you. You're perfect for me, [Name]. I like you, and trust you, and really enjoy our company...” He muttered “I don’t feel awkward after having sex with you, and I enjoyed it at all. For once I had fun and didn't feel like a chore nor..."

"I feel bad for your exes, Toshi. But at the same time not. If they had a taste of this, I'm pretty sure they would've refused to let you go so easily. So, I'm glad I don't have to share this experience with anyone of them"

"Does that mean you're not gonna let me go so easily?"

"I'm not letting you go, period. Unless you want to, of course. But if I wasn't going to let you go, as a friend. After this...I-I...you get my point"

He didn't. But he could tell you were feeling uncomfortable by how easily you became speechless. He wondered what had gone through your mind to make you go silent and shy in a second.

"You're far too precious to me to forget about you. You've always been."

"God, so that's why all of your little fans and your exes hated me. You always found the time to hang out with me even when you spent the entire day training prepping for Nationals, didn't you?"

"Before tonight, I already knew I didn't want to lose you. After tonight, I'm sure I don’t want to kiss, nor hold any other girl who isn’t you"

"Toshi, call me crazy, but that's not news, but…"

"Yeah?"

"I've liked you for almost two years now, and...That’s a lot, you know? I’ve never had feelings for someone for this long...and—" You stopped, feeling how your heart suddenly went crazy.

"What is it?"

"God, if this were happening to me, I'd definitely think if this was a big red flag, how much lower can I sink?" You giggled nervously before looking back into Wakatoshi's eyes "I think I'm in love with you"

"I think…" Wakatoshi muttered as his brain quickly jumped and did the math, still processing what you'd told him "Tendo lost the bet"

"What?" You kept laughing awkwardly, trying to keep your panic under control.

"When I told Tendo I had feelings for you, he got all excited, saying he had won the bet…" Wakatoshi recalled. "But that was a year and a half ago. But I'm starting to think it was actually Semi who won the bet"

"Oh...okay…" You blinked confused. "Are you gonna tell them?"

"Does it matter? [Name], I honestly do not care who's the rightful winner of that bet"

Wkatoshi lifted your chin with his finger and leaned closer, sealing his lips with yours in a tender kiss.A kiss you wished had lasted a little longer. Such a sweet, delicate kiss, long enough to leave you breathless instantly, and short enough to leave you wanting more. The sort of kiss you wished to get every day from him.

"I love you too, [Name]” He purred, his nose brushing against yours, as you savoured not only the aftertaste of his kiss, but savouring his words.

You leaned closer, stealing a second hiss from him, as he, very obediently kissed you back. Wrapping your arms around him, you brought him closer, as he groaned softly into your lips, adjusting himself. Slowly, crawling on top of you once more, you wrapped our legs around his waist, and your arms around his back, desiring to feel his weight on top of you once more. He breathed your name between kisses, as his fingers mindlessly played with your hair, as both your lips kept dancing together, slowly, tenderly, passionately.

The fear and the anxiety had been long gone. Now, the consuming and intrusive thoughts of how wrong it was to be kissing your best friend were now replaced by a comfortable sense of security, as your love confessions played in each other’s head. The heat kept increasing and increasing, just like the sound of our moans and grunts. It was much less awkward this second round, maybe was the lack of clothes, or maybe the fact that you already knew how the other felt. This newfound intimacy was everything Wakatoshi needed. He loved the feeling of reciprocity, as the same desperation to feel you closer, not only irradiated from him, but also from you. The physical closeness as well as the emotional closeness pulled you together like a tender hug.

You wasted the night away learning more about each other on a physical level. What each other liked, what you didn't. Holding each other close, tasting each other, over and over again until the both of you were completely satisfied and exhausted. You soon fell asleep in each other's arms.

Wakatoshi knew he didn't want to spend his nights with any other girl who wasn't you. He didn't want to kiss any other girl who wasn't you. And god, he felt like the luckiest man alive. By the end of the night, he was yours. and you were his.

#i am pretty pleased with this honestly #ven though its so awfully long ajdjkfksffs #anyways #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! imagines #ushijima wakatoshi #wakatoshi x reader #wakatoshi imagine #wakatoshi ushijima #ushiwaka #ushijima x reader #haikyuu ushijima

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darkened-writer · 3 years ago

Text

As You Wish- (A Knight! Bucky x Servant! Reader) Pt.1

A Winter’s Night on a full moon beckoned the kingdom as the regal princess made her way to the main hall, her servant and hand-maiden, Y/N, trailing behind her. There was to be a war of great violence to befall the kingdom and The King needed his daughters support.

“Why do I have to come? I don’t even have full control over the kingdom and yet.. Father insists I attend.” The Young Princess groaned, her skin tight, blue gown flowing against the linoleum flooring.

Elegant.

“Your Father insists, your highness, but I will be there with you if you so need anything at all.”

The Princess smiled as she stopped in front of the main hall’s doors, turning to look at Y/N. Her gaze was soft as lilies on a sunny afternoon, like the smell of orange peels and lemon.

“Thank you.. I am glad I have you by my side, even as a servant and hand-maiden, you have been an amazing friend and an amazing companion..”

Y/N, smiling even with a dirty face covered in soot, curtseyed, her semi-clean dress in her hands.

“Thank you, Your Highness.. Let me get the door for you..”

Y/N, quickly but methodically, went up to the door and pushed it open, the door creaking and alerting The King of his daughters arrival. Y/N held the door open and The Princess walked in, taking a seat at the large table.

‘A War Table?’, Y/N thought, then closing the large door and taking her place next to The Princess.

“Today, we speak on our plans of war. The Three Kingdoms have started war and our allies need our help. However, many of my associates have told me to lay down my sword and leave it be. I do not want to break the oath I made years ago so I am to make plans of war. I need opinions and thoughts of best interest.”

Y/N examined everyone seated among the table, seeing their mannerisms and ways of carrying themselves.

Natasha Of The ‘Zucan Empire’, was a mighty knight and the right hand of The King, Ser Steve of ‘Vaweth’, The Lead Knights of the battalion, his gaze was menacing but soft in an odd way. But, a strange knight caught Y/N’s eyes, his stature was tight and rigid and his face was hidden behind a metal helmet, the only visible feature being his nose, eyes, and a bit of his mouth. His eyes carried great pain, an intense and great pain that had caught the servant by the throat.

But, she never expected to have him lock eyes with her. His eyes now giving her a feeling, almost of a thunderous storm in the great mountains, the smell of pine and metal and a intense feeling of safeness.

Their eyes stayed locked only for a bit until The King called upon him to speak.

“Based on the battlefield in which the troops will be placed, I say we put our weaker in the front and our stronger in the back. The opposing won’t expect it, and we can hit them ten times harder than they may hit us.” His voice came out deep and gravelly, but smooth, his words articulate and well spoken.

“His name is ‘The White Wolf’, he is said to be the greatest knight in all the four kingdoms and he serves under my dad..” The Princess whispered to Y/N, Y/N’s eyes widening a bit at the odd name.

“He is known for slaying the dragon that had consumed our lands, I think the dragon was called, ‘Hydra’?”

Y/N nodded, looking back up at the table as they continued to speak.

“White Wolf, I need you to get recruitments for the knights guard, I need the strong and I need the weak, any man or woman will work. Natasha, you will set up our camping for the knights, and manage the rations. Steve, I will be needing you to stay with me until we have our battalion, I am afraid that a assasination attempt may come now that the other kingdoms know that I am joining the fight..”

They all nodded and the meeting was closed, The King coming towards his daughter and hugging her, “I’m glad you came, Daughter. I was afraid Y/N may have to tear you from your chambers.”

She laughed, “Well, you need as much support as you can get father..”

Y/N however wasn’t listening, her gaze on the knight with the wolf pelts draped over his shoulders, and iron armor clad over his entire self. He was sharpening his blade with a tool, eyes trained on Y/N, she quickly adverted her gaze as The King now turned to her.

“You may talk to our knights, Y/N. You are the best servant we’ve had in this castle, you deserve to have a social life.” He chuckled.

She nodded, and bowed before walking over to ‘The White Wolf’, “You sure do like to stare, don’t you?”

She was taken aback by his words, rubbing her dirtied hands nervously together, “I do not stare, I simply analyze people based on how they behave, you are my object of interest..”

“Mm.” He grumbled, “And, Why’s that?”

“You are far more mysterious than anyone I have ever seen in this castle, and I have been working here since I was six years old..”

His gaze raised up to her, his eyes piercing through her.

“I’d say, you mind your business before you get hurt, girl.” He got up and sheathed his blade, stomping his way out of the room.

“Well, you sure are a charmer, hm?”

Natasha had made her way up to her and smiled, reaching a hand out to shake.

“Names Natasha but you can call me ‘Nat’ for short.” The two shook hands, Natasha’s leather glove feeling foreign on Y/N hand.

“Is he always so.. brooding?”

“Yeah, comes with the title and such. Once you’re known for being ruthless, you have to stay ruthless. Say, do you want to go on a walk? The whole battle talk gets me tired.”

With a giggle, Y/N led the mighty female knight to the garden’s, the roses and leaves overgrown over the archway.

“So, you have been serving the kingdom since you were, SIX? How does one even serve at that age?”

“Well, my mother served under the queen and my father was a servant, once I was born, my parents knew I’d grow into a strong lady but a servant non the less. A month after my birth, the queen had given birth to the princess and died after, leaving the king to care for his child, but, once I was of age to care for myself and care for another, I was to be her handmaiden. And.. here we are.”

Natasha was frankly shocked, how could a girl of such beauty be a handmaiden? She should be out living life, being happy and in love, but she was cooped up in this castle, doomed to an eternity of taking care of someone who isn’t herself.

“I always wanted to be a knight though..”

That piqued her interest.

“I grew up watching the knights go out to fight and I always, always wanted to fight too.”

“You still can.”

“What..?”

Natasha sat down on the garden bench and beckoned the girl to sit, ready to explain.

“I could.. train you.. to be strong, skilled, a true warrior. You are weak now but after even a month of training with me, you’d be ready for battle.”

Y/N listened intently, weighing the consequences of being a warrior, to abandon her post as a servant and handmaiden to fight a war. Would her father and mother approve, would they pat her back and tell her to go for it?

“I’d need the king and princesses permis-”

“I’ll do it.” She interrupted.

“You’ll..?”

“I’ll fight, I’ll train, and I’ll become strong, as long as you help me.”

Natasha’s once serious face melted into a smirk, now wrapping her arm around Y/N.

“Well, Let’s go talk to them.”

“You want to take her under your wing to be a knight?”

“Yes, I feel she is capable of becoming great-”

I sat outside of the doors, listening to them talk about me becoming a knight, my eyes trained on the wall as I zoned out into my thoughts, until a tall figure loomed over me, the wolf pelts familiar as I looked up and locked eyes with him.

“Come with me.”

“Why?” I protested.

“Just come on, girl. I don’t have all day..”

I got up, watching him as he made his way towards the ball room, I followed intently, curious of his reasoning for finding me. His boots clanged against the ground as he opened the door and went inside of the ball room, I cautiously followed.

He set his sword to the ground carefully, eyes trained on me as I entered.

“What are you doing?”

“Testing out a theory...”

He slid the helmet off and let it fall to the ground, then turning to me. And, my my, his eyes, his lips, his nose, the crinkle of skin just above his brows, all came together almost in a masterpiece, a crescendo. The seemingly bad feelings previously about him had flown away like the birds outside the ball room windows, the light perfectly cascading over his face, I knew then and there, he was beautiful.

“Put the armor on.”

“...What?”

He plucked the armor off of his body and pushed it towards me, face straight and devoid of any particular emotion.

“Okay..”

I began to put each piece of armor on, my body slumping slowly but surely due to the weight until all pieces were on and I looked up at him, noting the widened eyes and semi-slacked mouth.

“You...You are her.”

“W-Who...?”

“Athelesia The Fierce..”

“Athelesia was a woman of many traits, she was determined, strong, fearless, and not to mention bold. She had been seen as a savior to many villages, even before the kings arose to power. She protected them, helped them, served them, as a noble person may do. Her fighting skills too were even more powerful then then strongest men of the lands, however, as she was becoming more known, the men we know as the kings today had her killed. It took thirty men to keep her down and in her last breath, she made a promise, that she’d have a descendant that would hold her power, her essence, and her aura. That they would arise one day and slay the poisoned kings to restore true peace to the lands once again. The armor I wear is the one she made back in her time, it was gifted to me but now I know who it truly belongs to...”

Y/N soaked up all the information but still couldn’t grasp how she was to be the greatest warrior of all time. She’s never touched a sword or even fought anyone in her life. She just wanted to be a regular knight, not one of some prophecy.

He brought the sword in it’s sheath to Y/N, placing it in her hands.

“This was her sword, use it, and train to fulfill the prophecy.”

“How do you know that I-”

“The pendant you wear.”

Y/N looked down at the silver pendant, turning the ruby over to see a name carved into the crystal.

‘Athelesia’

“I- What..”

His hand wrapped around her wrist, his eyes looking deep into hers as he spoke five words that would change her fate forever.

“You are Y/N The Fierce.”

#buckybarnesxreader #medivalau #bucky imagine #buckyxyou #whatrambles500 #xreader #xyou #wrote this instead of sleeping

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maryroyale · 3 years ago

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The lovely @curiouselfqueen tagged me on this one. (Thank you! I love these things.)

Uh. I have *feelings* about these? I have no idea why I feel so strongly, but... uh... there you go.

deep violet or blood red? Both? Not at the same time, but I love both. Purple and red are both power colors, but they convey very different things. Old ladies are allowed to wear both because they have the power to pull it off.

sunshine or moonlight? Oof. My default answer is moonlight? Some of the medication I’m on makes my eyes super-sensitive to sunlight. I’m like a damn vampire. Even on cloudy days I need sunglasses. I like seeing the sunlight through the trees when I’m in the woods? It’s pretty and far less painful.

Don’t get me wrong—I do love the moonlight. It’s so beautiful. Winter moonlight and summer moonlight are gorgeous.

80s music or 90s music? How dare you! Don’t speak to me or my 874 music genres ever again. Seriously though, I really love music. I listen to a wide variety of genres and some artists span decades. I love new wave and synthpop, but I also love pop punk and the swing revival. I can’t say one decade is better than the other.

orchids or dahlias? I like to garden, and from a gardening standpoint it’s dahlias all the way. Orchids are a wildly diverse species (over 25,000 types), but the pretty, delicate orchids they sell in stores are not hardy and require a lot of intensive, specific support. They’ll die if you plant them outside where I live. And the garden outside is what makes me happy and brings me joy.

garnet or ruby? These are such different stones. It’s almost like asking if I like chocolate milk or cola. Yes, they are both brown and you can drink them—but they’re really not similar.

Garnet— it’s semi-precious, plentiful, in use since antiquity. A decent go-to stone for jewelry. Like any gemstone, the color is determined by the type of impurities, so garnet can be almost any color. Blue garnets are the rarest. The Mohs scale for garnet depends on those same impurities because some can actually strengthen the hardness of the stone. Generally 6 to 7.5 on the Mohs scale.

I like garnets. Depending on the talent of the jeweler you can get lovely pieces set in silver that won’t cost an arm, a leg, and your soul. It was also my mother’s birthstone, so there’s that.

Ruby— Occasionally confused with spinels, rubies are pieces of corundum that contain the impurity chromium. Corundum that contains the impurities iron, titanium, vanadium, or magnesium are usually blue and referred to as sapphires. (Pink sapphires are actually poor quality rubies that the jewelry industry decided to rebrand to dupe the public. Similar to “chocolate diamonds” and other attempts to sell gems that don’t meet the criteria for their type.)

Corundum is a 9 on the Mohs scale. They highly sought after, have a rich mythos surrounding them, and feature prominently in history.

It seems like a lot of hype to me? They’re sturdy pieces of jewelry, not prone to breakage, but they ought to be for the price you pay. They’re pretty, I’ll grant you that.

moths or butterflies? Well, one is nocturnal and one is diurnal. One is fuzzy and stocky and one is smooth and slender. One is drab and one is brightly colored. I feel like I should picks moths on principle. I love Luna Moths. But butterflies are so very, very pretty. Moths I guess?

Aphrodite or Athena? Okay... so, um, here’s where it’s going to get heated. I apologize. I am *specifically* addressing how Athena and Aphrodite were worshipped/treated in Greek myths. I’m not looking at proto versions from Minoa, Mycenae, or Phoenicia. I’m also not looking at later syncretizations with other cultures e.g. Rome. It is the Greek myths that matter here because those are the myths and attitudes that were directly incorporated into Western culture. We’ve learned a lot about their origins, but *those* myths and attitudes were *not* incorporated into mainstream Western culture.

Athena was either born from Zeus’ head or his thigh. Either she has no mother��Zeus is her only parent—or Zeus swallowed her mother Metis (wisdom, prudence, counsel). This is critically important. In Athenian law, the father was the only legal parent. Mothers had no legal rights to their children at all. Athena is a very real symbol of that.

She is often portrayed as the goddess of wisdom, handicraft, and war. She is a goddess of industry (wine and olive oil). The thing we must ask is what kind of wisdom? What kind of war?

Plato argues this in Cratylus— that Athena’s wisdom could be a number of things from divine knowledge to moral intelligence. I think it’s important that Plato, one of Greece’s most celebrated philosophers, and more important one of the philosophers most embraced by Western Culture praised this choice of “moral intelligence.” [see Plato’s stance on poets in The Republic.]

Athena’s war is not the war of Ares, which is tied to passion and emotion. Ares represents the brutal aspects of war where humanity gives way to cruelty and inhumanity. Athena’s warfare is rational and “just.” Athena makes war on behalf of the city-state. Athena makes war to defend the government.

Athena’s purpose in myth and in poetry and song is to support the government. She is the shield of the king. She upholds and enforces the status quo. Look at her role in the Orestes trilogy. She supplants the Erinyes [the furies originally hunted and tormented ppl who committed matricide]. She decides that Iphigenia’s murder didn’t matter. Clytemnestra (Iphigenia’s mother) didn’t have the right to revenge for her daughter. Orestes was *justified* in murdering his mother because she killed his parent, his father.

Aphrodite also has a motherless birth, but it’s more incidental and spontaneous. Kronos cuts off his father Uranus’ genitals ( like you do ) and tosses them into the sea. Aphrodite is born from the sea foam. There’s a different feel to Aphrodite’s myth. An independence almost. Yes, a male god was involved because it’s a Greek requirement for any child, but it’s in such an incidental way. There was no purpose or intent on Uranus’ part. He had no control over her birth.

Aphrodite is an incredibly independent goddess. She owns her own sexuality and has autonomy over her own body. She is often referred to as the wife of Hephaestus, but in both the Iliad and Hesiod’s Theogony, Hephaestus has wives with different names and Aphrodite is unmarried.

A goddess with this kind of freedom and power in her own right—not tied to a husband or male family member (sorry Artemis!)— is almost unheard of. It makes Aphrodite unique and interesting.

TLDR: I prefer Aphrodite.

grapefruit or pomegranate? Pomegranate. For so many reasons, not the least of which is it’s associations with death and fertility. It’s a lovely contrast and a reminder that death brings forth life e.g. Nurse logs.

angel’s halo or devil’s horns? Oof. This is another rant, guys. Horns as a symbol of divine power are used throughout history and throughout the Indo-European culture. From Egyptian gods like Amun and Isis to Hindu gods like Śiva to Canaanite gods like El and Yahweh, horns have been used to show their power and might. Moses has most famously been depicted with horns due to murky/difficult translations of the Hebrew verb keren/qaran, which can mean BOTH “to send forth beams/rays” and “to be horned”.

There was a concerted effort to associate horns with the devil/evil/bad. Horns are also used to imply fertility/abundance, and that may have played into the perception of horns as devilish. Moses with horns was used as a jumping off point to demonize Jewish people during the Medieval period in a variety of European countries and cultures.

Halos, too, have been used across history and cultures as a symbol of divine power. Sumerian literature talks about a bright emanation that appears around gods and heroes. Chinese and Japanese Buddhist art shows Buddhist saints with halos.

I choose horns because I choose to reclaim that divine power. I reject the idea that either symbol is wholly good or wholly evil. I reject the idea that sexuality by itself is evil/wrong.

sirens or banshees? Both!!! I must admit a partiality to Sirens that is based wholly on my preference for the sea/ocean.

lorde or florence + the machine? Both!!! I love both groups and I’ve listened to their albums so many times. I will admit that I end up listening to Lorde more often when writing.

the birth of venus or the starry night? Huh. I’m going to assume that you mean the painting by Boticelli, even though there’s more than one Birth of Venus.

Honestly, Venus Anadyomene (Venus rising from the sea) is my favorite. It’s her origin myth and anyone could paint it, draw it, write about it, and put their own spin on it. It is malleable because it is myth. It lives on and changes and grows with us. Boticelli’s version is particularly lovely.

Starry Night (1889) belongs to VanGogh. No one can really recreate it without copying his style or his vision. Verschuier’s The Great Comet of 1680 Over Rotterdam could never really be confused with Starry Night. Not even Munch’s Starry Night (1893) could be confused for VanGogh. The two paintings are wildly different in subject matter despite the fact that their subject is the night sky.

I doubt any modern painter would dare. O’Keefe called hers Starlight Night, and I can only guess that others would follow that naming pattern of not quite using the title Starry Night.

Boy, I bet @curiouselfqueen is regretting tagging me now... sorry?

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flydotnet · 4 years ago

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled).

To what extent would go to save someone else's life?

This prompt was always going to be difficult, but hey, I did manage to come up with an interesting solution to it... or, at least, that's why I'd like to think. I originally planned on having Naomi for "I Should Have Been Better" (as I told Doc multiple times, "what better character for it than Naomi?", but the guy is having the last laugh about this one now, that's for sure). Some soul out there will have recognized the title from somewhere and understood what we're heading for because, yes, this entire story was inspired by the fact I wanted to use this semi-obscure reference as a title. You'll see what I mean later. Anyway, this fic was pretty cool to write, even if, again, I suffer from writing too much build-up because I want to explore a universe I'm probably never going to touch ever again. This is starting to grow into a recurring issue with me, it'd seem. Oh well, if it inspires someone's work, then I'm all good with my penchant for copious amounts of worldbuilding.

Also, Alyssa and Naomi's relationship is wonderful and it's a shame I haven't written it before, what the fuck me.

---------

Androzani

Summary: When faced with the prospect of her newest companion's potential death, Naomi is ready to put everything on the line... even her life.

Fandom: Trauma Center/Team (fantasy AU)

Wordcount: 3K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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Her shoulders bear the weight of her losses – friends she had to leave behind, people whose death she couldn’t prevent, companions that never were – yet Naomi has kept moving, trying to shove her past behind her anywhere she walks, as if going through purgatory for eternity.

Her reputation has preceded her for decades, by now: the woman dressed in black with silver hair like the pale moonlight, going from place to place. Nobody knows of her true intent, whether she sides with good or evil, with life or death until they discover she is a healer who was banished from her native region due to some sort of catastrophic event long forgotten by history.

How ironic is that someone whose roots got cut off by a guillotine is still alive and roaming this world when, surely, her supposed people have all died from illness, injury or natural causes by now: it has, after all, been a thousand years since the “Corpse Whisperer” got forced into exile over the supposed curse she bore, the curse which spread an illness she still doesn’t have an answer to over towns and villages until it just disappeared with her.

On her travels, she met a lot of people, some of whom travelled with her for a time, some whom she barely got to know.

There was Nathan, a boy who had escaped from a doomsday cult. He was an eager companion, swearing he’d follow her until the end of the world would have she decided so, because she was the first friend he had ever gotten – he died saving her, rather than the other way around, when a spear plunged inside his chest and only came out when his blood had stopped flowing and his skin had turned to clay. She closed his eyes, buried him and marked the grave with white lilac, never to look back again.

There was Ivan, a man barely younger than her supposed age, who wanted to understand her and help her save people with his benevolent magic and overwhelmingly positive intentions. He fought hard against near-death situations, some where she had decided it was better to expect death than survival, but his optimism kept these people alive. She had tot leave him behind after he contracted a lethal disease and he couldn’t keep with her, leaving behind the bitter taste of failure, loneliness and uncertainty. She never went back to where their ways parted, afraid to know the inevitable answer as to his whereabouts.

There was Cassandra, a middle-aged woman with a stern face and an inexorable will. Despite all the hardships she had faced in her life, she had always stood back up, without even displaying any sort of pain. She had grown a reputation for her ruthless methods, being ostracized, and travelled with her so she could mend her ways and heal who she could with the apothecary knowledge she had been blessed with during her youth. She drank her own poison so she wouldn’t have to surrender in the face of certain defeat, plunging herself in an eternal sleep, while Naomi could only watch, wrists and ankles keeping her from acting, until these dissolved and she could avenge her fallen friend. Cassandra’s breath never went out, so Naomi made her a chamber hidden in a deep, dense forest in a hope that, someday, she’d find the antidote Cassandra had spilled on the ground.

There was Eglantine, a girl barely in her teens, who went to follow her because her parents had abandoned her and everybody else thought she was cursed because of her unusually pale skin, hair and eyes, thinking she was a stillborn animated by a malevolent spirit. Beneath her skin was an incredible potency, which she didn’t dare use until she needed to. Her short life ended in a tragic, senseless sacrifice when she rushed into battle and blocked an enemy’s way so Naomi could run away and “get out alive”, as she had screamed before taking an entire group of thieves with her to a certain death.

There have been a lot of them, over the centuries, but none of them have been immortals like her. None of them have healing magic as powerful as hers, none of them can endure so much. All of them have promised her to stay with her until she could settle down again, none of them could ever hold these promises, and it’s fine to her: she’s used to involuntarily broken promises. She’s used to the feeble nature of humans, of the uncursed ones.

She has grown more and more hesitant to accept new companions, over time. She tried to be cold towards them, to use her sombre reputation as a deterring agent – but some people are just in need of misery’s company, even her, and so they stick around until illness, injury, death, love or opportunity split them apart and the cycle continues. Naomi is used to it. She doesn’t even give her name to people anymore: it’s easier for both sides if these companions call them by whatever nickname the rumours about her convey.

The “Corpse Whisperer” is only one facet of her fictional identity, one of her many names and perhaps the least flattering. Over the years, she has accumulated them: “Cursed One”, “Black Healer”, “Reaping Doctor”, “Nameless Widow”, “Lady of the Last Sight”… Everywhere she’s gone, they’ve adopted a new name for her, to the point the name she was given at birth is nothing but lost to the sands of times, like numerous books she’s read, like the names of her fallen companions. So much things pass by your eyes when time doesn’t affect you anymore. Such is her curse, after all.

Even with time, the wounds left by her losses never truly scar. Every death in which she’s had some amount of responsibility weight on her shoulders, even if as time passes, she starts to forget more and more the individuality of her former partners. And, the heavier the luggage gets, the darker she tries to be, the more reclusive she behaves, so someone else doesn’t have to get hurt while following her on her eternal quest to heal others and, maybe, just maybe, finally find the way to end her own life.

Still, despite how much she has cried and screamed already, death continues to affect her when she can see blood on her hands or a cold limb at her feet. Even recently, she got bit in the throat by the death of two parents who had crossed her ways in unfortunate circumstances and she came too late to save them. As they let out their last breath, she met eyes with a curious little girl’s green irises full of life, and that’s when she knew – Naomi would be traveling with someone else once more.

Neither Alyssa nor she had a choice in the matter. The poor girl didn’t have any remaining relatives and the place where she lived was infested by werewolves, the same species that had killed her parents. Naomi couldn’t leave someone as young and frail as a ten-year-old girl suffer in the claws of the wolves on two legs that couldn’t control their animalistic urges. It quickly became her mission to redeem herself from letting two new persons die in front of her eyes by bringing Alyssa to a safe haven where she could have a normal life until Naomi herself found a solution to the lycanthropic problem.

However, and despite having guessed what happened, despite all of her tears and all of her pain, Alyssa has always told Naomi she didn’t hold anything against her, that she did her best when she tried to use her magic to bring back to life the recently deceased. Her smile, which at first was timid and more of a façade, has grown into an earnest one. Every time she sees it, it warms Naomi’s heart, but it reminds her head to remain cool and not to get attached because it’ll end badly for the both of them.

For a while, it was fine to have Alyssa around. They mostly went from village to village, from city to city, and Naomi made sure her protégée wasn’t in contact with the filth and contagion of the sick. Healed bone after healed bone, cured sickness after cured sickness, Naomi found herself enjoying the light-hearted chatters of Alyssa, going from refusing to answer her various questions on the world and herself to replying to them with more and more details.

It was already too late, by that point, but Naomi still liked to believe Alyssa would one day leave on her own terms and her wounds just heal for once. After all, they were only travelling together because Alyssa needed a new home to grow up in and have a chance at a normal life after the atrocious had happened.

However, that delusion has come to an end, as she’s now forced to make the biggest choice in her life, one that could cost her everything. At long last, the taste of death and the melody of the epilogue come back to her, making her feel more alive than ever, but at what price?

Alyssa has been poisoned with what she can only assume to have been a powerful, yet not instantly deadly substance. She missed catching its name when someone told her what was happening to Alyssa, what was causing her the rashes and the fever that keeps going up and up, but it reminds her of something – animantha toxaemia. A beautiful flower whose pollen has killed its fair share of humans, with no real cure known aside from a taxing healing spell, one forbidden not by choice, but by need.

Their meeting with the flower was unfortunate. Alyssa and she were on the run from some unforeseen adversaries and, once they had successfully lost them in the forest, Alyssa got curious about the deep purple beauty of the flower’s petals. Alyssa touched it when she inspected it before Naomi could remove the girl’s fingers from the stem and petals. Both are running away from death. Quite ironic, coming from the woman who was once nicknamed “the Silver Reaper”, but… what matters isn’t her fate, it’s Alyssa’s.

Naomi has managed to get them both out of the forest, but unfortunately, she’s starting to feel the paralysis effects of the flower in her legs, and that’s when she realizes she must have been in contact with a lethal dose of the flower’s poison. One thing the curse hasn’t protected her from is illnesses of this kind, and judging by the fever poor Alyssa has fallen victim to, she doesn’t count on staying alive much longer. She’d have expected herself to be pleasantly surprised by the prospect of finally passing away, since she has seen so much already, and roaming the Earth for about four centuries is starting to take a toll on her spirit – but she has never felt so alive, because danger is a powerful catalyser, and she has a life to save.

A final life, judging by what she needs to pay for what she’s about to do, but a worthy price to pay and perhaps the life that has mattered the most to her throughout her long, elongated life. She’s torn about having to leave Alyssa to her own devices, but they’re in a village, now, and Naomi hopes the inhabitants that took enough pity on them to lend them the small house they’re currently in will help her. She’s still young, barely fourteen, and she doesn’t want Alyssa to struggle again once she’s gone.

There’s no time to question it, however. The toxaemia has four stages, the last being an inexorable rise of internal temperature until the affected person inevitably dies. However, she can’t let that happen, and she has to act quick, because getting the both of them back to a safer haven has taken so long that Alyssa is at least in the third stage and, again, judging from her temperature, is crossing into the last before… before the inevitable happens.

There are numerous times where she wanted to give her life to save another, but never got to do it because the other person died before her eyes before she ever could or because they did it first, leaving her alone again, most of them eternally unaware of her immortality. Now, however, she’s the one who has to do it, because Alyssa isn’t a mage like her, wasn’t born with the ability to cast spells, and she’s someone who deserves to live life at its fullest, unlike her.

Naomi has made her decision the moment she touched the flower and nothing is going to make her go back on her decision – aside from the idea to leave Alyssa alone, but the girl has made some friends in the village due to how kind she is, so at least, Naomi has some hope. If her companions have shown her something, it’s that there still are good people in this world, no matter how many atrocities she’s seen.

Almost three centuries ago, she learnt spells that are now forbidden. One of them, whose original scroll has been burnt in an attempt to silence its deadly power, is the antidote to animantha poisoning. There may have been another way, hidden away in a forgotten script or still being conceived by some hermit mage or witch living in remote woods, but she doesn’t have the time to question it. All she can do, now, is apply the formula as she’s learnt it, hoping her spell memory has exceeded human standards. The curse should have at least given her that, if she was to become the Codex of Magic.

Her last name – the “Codex of Magic”, the true purpose of the curse inflicted on her so many years ago. How ironic, considering she’s lent all of the scripts she’s copied again in the bag she always carries with her, that she dies by the hands of one of the spells she was meant to preserve for prosperity. Even if she survives, she won’t be able to use the spell on herself afterwards in a timely manner, so she hopes Alyssa carries on her will. That’s all she wants.

Ignoring the pain in her limbs and her own rising fever, Naomi gathers her powers in both palms of her hands, summoning all of her healing prowess for one last show. The spell calls for specific incantations, which flow out of her mouth as if she was born to say them at some point – something about summoning the power of hope itself, serving as its vessel for a miracle, giving up one’s life for the sake of another. The spell was named “Hope of the Unending Agape” for a reason, after all, and Naomi doesn’t have anything else to lose.

The amount and intensity of the mana running through her entire body is searing her from the inside as her hands carefully cradle Alyssa on the bed of the house, cupping the girl’s face as the mage hopes it will work as intended. Alyssa must survive, it’s all that matters, she doesn’t care about the price of it all, just give this girl her life back, don’t take her away from the mortal realm so soon, not when she has so much to see and discover, so much to live and smile at.

Hope can take her soul, she doesn’t care, but that flower won’t take away Alyssa’s, she swears on her life. One has lived for too long and the other is too young to pass away.

This spell feels like inflicting agony on oneself, so her vision is starting to give in and so do most of her sense following it. She’s burning on the inside, either from the spell or from the toxaemia, but there’s no way for her to distinguish anymore. What she knows, however, is that Alyssa’s skin is cooling down and her tremors are fading away. This is more than a relief: she’ll survive. Alyssa will see another day and have the life she deserves, sunny and beautiful.

Little by little, frame by frame, Alyssa’s complexion regains its colour, the red stains on her cheeks disappearing. The sweat that was pearling on her skin fades away. Her frowned feature relax and give way to a peaceful expression, as if she had been sleeping all along. It’s a beautiful sight, really.

However, the same can’t be said for Naomi, as a huff of platinum smoke escapes from her lips and she collapses in pain. She has exhausted every cell of her being, or so it feels like, and it’s up to the curse to see if she’s worth saving – she doubts it, because a curse is a curse, and being a benefactor for its host would go against its own nature.

It very much feels like she’s dying, at long last. Her vision is mostly black now, safe for a couple blurry shapes, and most of her senses have already given in: her hearing has been replaced with a sort of slightly disturbed silence, she can’t tell what she’s touching and the only taste in her mouth is that of copper and iron. All she can feel are the tears going down her cheeks and the relief that, at least, someone is getting out of this alive.

Despite technically meeting her end at the hands of a toxic flower, Naomi doesn’t see it this way: she views her demise as the ultimate act to save a life and, as such, doesn’t have the shadow of a regret. Sure, there may have been things she’d have wished to do before she’d die, and her survival is a very unlikely gambit on the curse acting up; but they don’t matter compare to the reasons why she did such a thing, why she took on someone’s deadly pain onto herself.

The only thing she’ll be missing is the warmth of Alyssa’s voice…

When Alyssa wakes up from something that was between a dream and a nightmare, which she can’t remember aside from the magnificent gaze of a solar goddess looking to her eyes, she quickly realizes what she saw in her sleep wasn’t a figment of her imagination – and immediately knows, upon touching long and slender lukewarm hands, she has a task to accomplish to pay back a life-changing favour.

#bad things happen bingo #trauma center #trauma team #naomi kimishima #alyssa breslin #empathic healing #my writing #tw death #angst #bthb

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another-stark-sub · 5 years ago

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Interruption - Tony Stark Imagine

Summary: You interrupt your fiance’s research, and Tony loves you for it. Natasha just had to call him in the middle of it all.

Warnings: no actual sex, more fluff than smut really, mentions of bondage, little bit of exhibitionism

Word Count: 2044

Being Tony’s fiancee came with weird moments. First off, he was the Iron Man, one of the legendary Avengers who saved the world, and sometimes the universe, on a weekly or monthly basis. So, you had your fair share of poisonous experiments locked in the house or random robots appearing. And you wish you were lying when you said one time you found a rock alien Tony forgot to tell you he was housing in the kitchen.

However, what was before you was still weird. Not superhero weird, just weird, and very out of character.

Your fiance had been holed up in the lab for more than many hours. You let the first ten hours slide, but when sunrise was approaching, you had decided it was time for some sleep.

And when you were at the lab’s doorway, you saw Tony talking to one of his suits. Not too weird. That was a common thing to see in the Stark household. But, what was odd was that Tony was on his knees, on one of the throw pillows that had gone missing months ago, and his hands were tied in an intricate knot.

“Ok, now pull that,” Tony instructed.

The suit pulled.

“Harder.”

It pulled Tony forward enough that if he moved a little bit, he’d definitely fall, face flat on the ground. Tony hummed and said, “Now, wipe the knot’s instructions from memory and try to untie it. Friday, time it, please.”

“Yes, boss.”

Baffled, you called out, “Tony?”

He turned to you and smiled. “Hey, honey. Just lemme get out of this, and I’ll be in bed soon.”

You scoffed. “You can’t kick me out of here, not when I’ve seen that.” You crossed your arms and sighed. “Uh, what is this, anyway?”

Tony opened his mouth just as Friday interrupted, “Twenty-three and a fourth.”

Tony inhaled through his teeth. “Ok, considering human error, twenty-eight, nine-ish seconds. Add it to the list, Friday. I’ll work on it later. Note that scissors might need to be used.”

You blinked a few times. “Would it be dumb of me to ask what you’re working on?”

His attention was back on you, and with a warm smile, he approached you and held your hands. “Never dumb.” He kissed your forehead and caressed your cheek before explaining, “I’ve been trying to see what knots we could use next time, but I don’t think I like any of the ones I’ve found.”

“Knots?” You laughed a little. “Like during sex, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“And what are you testing?” You didn’t really have a preference, honestly. You were just fond of bondage. Did Tony just prefer some ways to tie you up?

“Different things. Oh!” Tony let go of your hands and held them up above his head. “Friday, take a picture and record it under effects.”

“Done and filed away.”

“Thank you.”

You gasped and took his hands in yours again. Examining his wrists, yellow-ish purple bruises were already forming from the rope. “Your wrists.” You sighed. “Shouldn’t you be keeping these things safe, for superhero-ing and inventing? Not for BDSM trials?”

“Well, I need to make sure it doesn’t cause you too much pain.”

Just like that, your heart swelled. “You’re testing different knots for, well, for me?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Gotta make sure that my girl’s gonna be ok when I fuck her senseless, right?” With a swipe of his hand, the other still holding yours, a hologram popped up in front of you two. It resembled an excel spreadsheet. A name, a picture of the knot, description, time to tie, time to untie, both adjusted for human error, a picture of Tony’s various bruises from it. “See, I need to make sure I can tie it, that I can untie it if we don’t like it, see how much it hurts you or not.”

He kept babbling on, saying how it was important for him to know how it feels and to make sure you were safe, but you only heard part of it. You heard enough of it, because damn, your fiance was never more sexy in your eyes. And not only was he doing this for your safety and pleasure, but he was also doing it because your safety made him happy.

How were you so lucky? A wonderful man, a genius, a hero was your fiance. He shared your kinks, respected the rules you two agreed upon, and went out of his way to make sure that the things that restrained you in the bedroom were things that wouldn’t hurt you when you didn’t want it to.

So, in the middle of his rant, something about the technicalities of it all, you grabbed his face and kissed him.

Tony pulled away from you, his forehead still resting on yours. “Not that I’m objecting, but what?”

You laughed. “Cause you’re too good for me, and I think” -you bit your lip- “you deserve some sort of gift for that.” Before he could object or argue or say you were too good for him, you pulled him closer to you and kissed him, softer and sweeter, and when his hands finally held your hips, you hummed and asked, “Bedroom?” Plus, after some laborious exercise, he might sleep at a semi-appropriate hour.

“What’s wrong with here, sweetheart?” He mumbled against your lips. He kissed you again, his hands roaming down to squeeze your ass before lifting you up and wrapping your thighs around his waist.

Just as he set you down on one of the lab tables, Friday’s voice pierced the air, “Ms. Romanoff is-”

“Put her on hold,” he told him. Tony moved to kiss your neck, and you moaned. You tangled your fingers in his hair, already drowning in the feeling of his lips on your skin and his body between your legs.

“She insists that it’s urgent.”

Tony didn’t say anything. He just smiled at you and kissed you.

Natasha was calling him, insisting it was urgent. It must’ve been important. “Tony,” you mumbled.

“Yeah?” He went back to litter kisses on your neck and collarbone. Your button-up shirt was already being undone, and the part of you wanted to push him away so he could take that call was silenced. His lips were insistent and that nonchalant attitude was intoxicating. Plus there was a heat building in you, and if you stopped now you’d be dissatisfied. You didn’t want that.

“Ms. Romanoff says she has Vision with her, and she will disable me if you don’t patch her through.”

Tony paused. He gazed up at you, in awe of how flushed you were just from a few of his kisses.

You had to blink a few times, too focused on Tony’s chest moving up and down, so out of breath from kissing you and touching you. His hair was messy from your tugging and gripping, a few strands falling onto his forehead. Subtly, his hips went from lightly touching you to pressing up against you.

Shaking your head and closing your eyes, you said, “Take the call.” You took a deep breath and reached for your shirt, but Tony stopped you. He smiled and leaned in close before pressing a kiss against your lips. “Stay.”

“Tony-”

He shook his head. “Stay.” He kissed you again and continued to unbutton your shirt until it was all undone. “Friday,” he said between kisses, “patch her through, videochat.”

Shocked, you pushed him away from you, just enough so his lips weren’t sealed against yours. “Tony, what-”

He silenced you with another kiss. His hand went to your thigh, caressing it and hooking it around his waist so he could grind his hard-on into you.

“Tony.” Natasha’s voice came through, void of any emotion.

Tony pulled away from you. With a smile, he swiped thumb past your bottom lip, admiring how swollen they were.

You heard Natasha’s voice, you did, but with Tony in front of you with that damn smirk of his and his thumb gently grazing over your lip, you had no intention of listening to her. It was too hard to listen to her. Too drunk on him and his touch and too tired of holding yourself back, once his touch left your lips, you surged forward, aiming for a kiss.

Tony gave him, kissing you once before telling his teammate, “A bit busy here, Red.” Your fiance pressed his lips against yours and moaned loudly. Whether it was because he was that pleased by you or because he wanted to piss Natasha off, you didn’t care. You just pulled him closer, desperate to keep kissing him.

“You need to come in. We’re in need of your expertise, and Shuri’s out on another assignment.”

“Banner,” Tony mumbled against you.

“Off planet.”

As he moved to kiss your neck again, he said, “Kid’s smart.”

“On vacation.”

“Keener.” Finally, his hand came up to squeeze your tits over your bra.

“Tony!” you moaned.

Natasha rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the first time she had to witness the two of you like this. “Harley’s currently taking a three-hour exam.”

He growled. More frustrated at his fellow geniuses than you. Because, god, you looked divine. He pulled your bra down and latched his lips onto your nipple and sucked.

You threw your head back, trying to catch your breath, and whined.

“Tony, you think I’d interrupt the two of you if it wasn’t important? Riri and Shuri and both out on missions, and Vision hasn’t been able to do it.” Natasha groaned. Her eye twitched, and she pulled a card she rarely pulled. “So, has your fiancee seen the previous versions of her ring yet?”

You squinted at the screen, half your attention still on the pleasure Tony was giving you. “What, ah, previous versions?” You smiled, dazed.

Tony groaned against your chest. “Baby,” he whined. He nipped at your nipple, and although he got a gasp from you, you still were thinking about your ring. The one he proposed with was your dream, not too gaudy, not too simple either, and crafted and designed by Tony, but there were previous versions?

You smiled at Tony and, even though you still craved his touch and the heat of his love, your daydreams of Tony working his ass off to build a perfect ring turned to reason, and reason won out. With a soft giggle, you reached out for your fiance. The poor thing had rested his chin on your chest, pouting.

“You’ve got a job, Tone.”

“So?”

You buttoned up your shirt.

“What? No, please,” he whined, reaching for your hands.

You slapped him away and finished the last button. “Don’t worry.” You jumped off the lab table and kissed his cheek. “We will resume later. I need to thank you for being so good to me after all.” You nodded to the suit in the corner. “Go.”

Tony sighed. He readjusted his pants and kissed you quickly. “Love you.” He turned to the monitor. “Hate you.” And just like that, he was suiting up.

Natasha laughed. “Ah, my life’s complete. Sending you coordinates.”

“Will do.” He stopped his mask from covering his face to say to you, “Wait for me?”

“No promises.”

He smiled. “Good.” With a wink, his mask came on, the exit from the lab to the outside opened, and he was off.

You turned to the monitor and crossed your arms. “I expect to see whatever previous designs he showed you.”

“Will do.” The agent sighed. “Would it be too much to ask to have you two act professionally sometimes?”

You shrugged. “Me, not much at all.” You laughed. “It’s Tony you gotta convince.”

Natasha tilted her head. “I’m pretty sure you’d be hard to convince, too.”

You shrugged. “What can I say? I am Tony’s girl after all.” You flashed her a smile before hanging up. With a thoughtful hum, you said, “Friday, send a message to Tony for me, please. Tell him” -that familiar heat you ignored was steadily coming back- “that I’m starting without him.”

“He wouldn’t like that.”

You were practically bounding up the stairs to your bedroom, some toys you could use already in mind. “Planning on it.”

“Ah, I see. Message sent.”

“Thank you, Friday!”

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tehri · 4 years ago

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Hobbits and naming conventions

The most common comparison that’s been going around lately has been between the names of hobbits belonging to the Baggins family and the Took family. There is quite a distinct difference between the names, so it’s understandable that it seems a bit jarring to go from something simple like, say, Longo to something more noble-sounding like Isengrim.

In comparison, the names given to girls are very different. True, there are a few more nonsensical ones, like Belba. But there are also plenty of flower- or gem-names. This also gives a very odd contrast between the names of male hobbits and those of female hobbits.

However, there is a bit of reasoning behind the names, at least those belonging to hobbits from families with Fallohide blood. Those are not taken out of thin air. They were oftentimes given names evoking figures of legend (whether this means figures of legend in our world or in Middle-earth is hard to say, but it’s certainly not mistaken either way).

So allow me to begin with the grand one himself, Gerontius Took, also known as the Old Took. His name is of some debated origin, with some ties to Greek, Latin, and Welsh. In Greek, the element geron means “old”. The name is also an actual Latin name from the Late Roman Empire, and in Welsh it is rendered as Geraint; put quite simply, the name means “old man”. Let me also bring up two of his sons - let’s go with Isengrim and Hildibrand. To start with the eldest, Isengrim, his name is Anglo-Saxon in origin and consists of isen, meaning “iron”, and grim, meaning “fierce”. There is a chance that Tolkien actually named him after a wolf that appears in the medieval story of Reynard the Fox. Then we have Hildibrand, whose name is likely of Lombardic origin and consists of hild, meaning battle, and brand, meaning sword. He was probably named after a character of Germanic legend.

Then, let me point at the Bolgers. They were also a family with Fallohide blood, and followed the same naming customs. For instance, Odovacar Bolger, Fatty Bolger’s father, shares name with a Germanic king of Rome. Fredegar himself (Fatty, that is) has a name that combines two elements that are either Old High German, Old Saxon, or Old English - fridu, or frithu, which means “peace”, and gār or gēr meaning “spear”.

But it is not only families with Fallohide blood that have different-sounding names. The Brandybuck family, which can be claimed to have Stoor blood, have a naming convention of their own that likely reflects their old connection to the Men of Dunland. The names are somewhat Celtic in sound, though not all of them have actual meanings.

Let me begin with our main man, Meriadoc “Merry” Brandybuck. His name is, in fact, Welsh and means roughly “Great Lord”. The names of his great-great-grandfather and his great-great-great-grandfather, Marmadoc and Madoc, are also Celtic in origin, with Madoc being found among Welsh names and Marmadoc being derived from the old Irish Máel Máedóc (roughly “follower of Saint Malachy”). Fun fact: the name Marmaduke is from the same one as Marmadoc.

So how about the Brandybuck names that sound Celtic, but have no meaning? Well, we have an excellent example in Merry’s uncle Merimac, younger brother of Saradoc Brandybuck. The name Merimac has the Celtic mac in it, which at the very least in Irish means “son” (I can’t answer for Scottish Gaelic or for Welsh, I only know a little bit of Irish). However, the prefix meri does not appear to have a meaning in modern day languages; though Tolkien did have some Westron words written out, and meri could simply be a sort of “translation” of the Westron kali, which would indicate that it means essentially “jolly”. Actually, Saradoc’s name is of personal interest to me. I’ve found a note claiming that the name is derived from the Welsh Caradoc, the name of a semi-legendary ancestor to the kings of Gwent. Which at least in my opinion is pretty cool. But I can’t find any links that may confirm the claim, so it shall, for now, remain a dream.

BUT. What about the nonsensical names that appear in various families? Well, there is the post going around about how these names are Baggins names, which is an outright false claim. Yes, they sound odd, and since people mostly pay attention to the Bagginses they’ll only really see them there. But fact is, that the names are everywhere. The Proudfoots have them, the Hornblowers have them, the Boffins, the Burrowses, the Chubbs, the Goodbodies - they’re everywhere. They are, therefore, presumably very common. And it’s not just the male names either.

Look at the female names as well. Belba? Chica? Tanta? No, it’s not just the male hobbits that have odd nonsensical names, even if flower- or gem-names are more common for female hobbits (with the gem-names being more specifically for upper-class female hobbits). But then we also have the names Belladonna, Donnamira, and Mirabella - the names of Gerontius Took’s three daughters. These three names are distinctly different; Belladonna is of Italian origin, as is Mirabella - I can’t actually find a definite origin for Donnamira, but since both halves of her name are Italian/Latin in origin, I’m willing to wager that’s the intention there. Odd bit of contrast, no?

Either way, I’m willing to bet that these nonsensical names that keep popping up in so many families are something of a custom in hobbit families with Harfoot blood. That’s not to say that it is the only custom; we don’t know if the Gamgee family had Harfoot blood or otherwise, as it’s never stated, but it appears to be heavily implied - and most of them appear to have Old English names.

Note also that the nonsensical names have a tendency to sound very similar - chances are that later names on the family tree are derived from earlier ones, such as the names Uffo and Gruffo on the Boffin family tree, quite clearly derived from the name of Uffo’s great-grandfather Buffo. For that matter, why not bring up the name of our dear Bilbo Baggins? His great-grandfather was named Balbo. I daresay Bilbo’s name was derived from there.

So - nonsensical names? Sure, they sound weird. But there is clearly some form of meaning to them, even if it is just a certain naming convention or a wish to pay homage to relatives. I ask that you do not dismiss them, but instead view them as what they clearly are: a hobbit tradition, and perhaps a specific Harfoot custom.

Thank you for reading.

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watchathon · 4 years ago

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Stitch Day Special: Lilo & Stitch

In case you’re finding this post just by browsing the tags I’ve used for this post, this is the Watch-a-Thon, a blog where I’m hoping to watch an episode of a show every one-to-two days, with a short blog post where I give my thoughts on what I’ve just seen. Each new point starts with a hyphen and a bolded first word.

- Like so.

But today? Well, today I’ve got an extra-special post in the wings about a movie, one of my favorite Disney movies, starring my absolute favorite Disney character: Lilo & Stitch!

- I like the variation on the Disney logo. That is the kind of stuff that they just couldn’t do with their new big fancy CGI logo.

- No clue why Jumba tried to deny that he created an experiment. I don’t much mind since it led to a funny joke, but c’mon, evil genius, you should be smart enough to plead guilty.

- “I would never, ever... make more than one.” *glances meaningfully in the direction of the series*

- “What is that monstrosity...?” He’s a cute widdle fluffball, that’s what he is!

- “Meega nala kweesta!” Canonically, this translates to “I want to destroy”, but that seems a little lukewarm for the reaction he got. Maybe a looser translation is in order...

There could be an entire aristocrats joke in those three words. The whole script to Batman v Superman. The opening notes to “Never Gonna Give You Up”...

Or maybe just “bitch”.

- Blood work is a lot different in space...

- Weird to imagine given the rest of the franchise, but Gantu was once a respected captain of the galactic federation.

- It’s easy to perceive Stitch as a dumb brute, but he’s pretty smart. He connected the dots all on his own, within minutes of his imprisonment, that if the guns are locked onto his DNA, he can use his saliva to trick them. Jumba wasn’t kidding when he boasted of his experiment’s intelligence.

- And not only was Gantu a captain, Pleakley was an expert on the planet Earth. Weird, innit...?

- “Are [humans] intelligent?” “No.” An exchange that only hurts more with every year.

- Love the implication that Pleakley was just suggesting several different relatives to assist with the capture of Stitch from when they were on the deck up until they got to the prison where Jumba was held.

- Now this is what we (or rather TVTropes) call an establishing character moment. A fish floats by holding a sandwich in its mouth, implying (soon confirming) that Lilo was the one to give it the sandwich, before rushing to the hula practice that she was late for, stopping to take a picture of a tourist along the way.

- And then after she arrives at hula practice, she explains that she had to give Pudge the fish a peanut butter sandwich because he controls the weather.

- No clue why the other girls are disgusted by Scrump. I always wanted a Scrump when I was a little lass.

- “Did you ever kill anyone?” Lilo asks the right questions.

- Nani, y’could’ve avoided this if you’d given a thumbs up instead...

- I don’t get the glare Cobra gives Nani after Lilo says that her friends need to be punished. Voodoo isn’t a failure of parenting. In many cases, at least...

- Licking Nani, growling after her capture, Lilo already has a lot in common with Stitch.

- Lucky that Lilo is such a quirky kid. The scene (semi-)explaining why she takes pictures of tourists was deleted, but it doesn’t feel like anything is missing because she already has a few habits that just plain inexplicable, like feeding Pudge, practicing voodoo with a pickle jar...

- Lilo wishing for an angel because of how lonely she is, that’s a sad moment. But also kinda funny in hindsight after she sarcastically names Stitch’s love interest Angel in the series.

- Lord give me the undisturbed...ness, of that frog who watched Stitch get run over by several trucks and only tilted its head.

- If they thought Stitch was dead, why did they keep it in the shelter? I mean, Lilo would probably adopt a dead dog, but she’s the outlier.

- I like how Jumba programmed, as part of Stitch’s destructive tendencies, an urge to steal everybody’s left shoe.

- You can just about pinpoint the moment where Stitch’s heart drops at learning that he’s on an island with no major cities.

- Just occurred to me that the badness level is red, and Stitch’s evil counterparts in the series (627 and Leroy) are both red.

- Ah, David. One of the best Disney love interests, mostly because he isn’t entirely a love interest. There is a mutual attraction, but Nani just isn’t ready for that with everything going on in her life, and David respects that and is happy to be a friend.

- I like how everyone except Lilo heavily suspects that Stitch isn’t a dog.

- Ohhh, the thought of Stitch having drank coffee. I mean, I’d love to see it, but it’d be Hell for Nani.

- Stitch looks just plain adorable with a lei.

- Well, Lilo, you did tell Stitch he should create something. And he did, he just destroyed his creation afterward.

- Pleakley is a gender-nonconforming icon.

- The first time we see Stitch doing something without even the intention of destroying anything is when he finds the book about the Ugly Duckling. It’s clear that he’s fascinated just by looking at it. And when Lilo explains the story? It resonates with him. Or, well, perhaps he wants it to resonate with him.

- I wish I had an evil koala dog that played records.

- Are we sure that “Meega nala kweesta” means “I want to destroy”? Maybe it means “I was born to dance”, ‘cause Stitch learns about dancing and in less than a minute he’s already an expert.

- I imagine this montage, or slightly earlier, would be when that deleted scene of Lilo trolling the obnoxious racist tourists originally came into play. And I like this scene, but, I do wish that scene hadn’t gotten cut. And I wish that they fully animated it and inserted it into the movie like Warner Bros did with The Iron Giant.

- Nothing cheers me up more than this scene of Stitch and his newfound family going surfing. And especially since Stitch is aquaphobic. He’s very much aware that he cannot swim, and likely wouldn’t survive if he fell off the board into the ocean. But even he eventually gets into the spirit of it, asks Lilo himself to go surfing, and enjoys a nice bonding moment with his family. And David.

- Of course Jumba and Pleakley had to ruin a perfectly sweet moment.

- And so we transition from a heartwarming wholesome moment, to a heartbreaking tearful moment. You can just see Nani holding back tears as she says that she needs to take Lilo home.

As for Stitch, David probably didn’t even realize that Stitch could understand him when he said that Lilo and Nani had a chance until Stitch came along. But Stitch did understand, and he’s visibly hurt by the idea. He always wanted to destroy, but in this moment, he’s ashamed of how he might have destroyed Lilo’s family.

- And the Ugly Ducking metaphor comes back, when in this moment, as Stitch is coming back to a family that he fears he may have ruined, he sees a lone duck... before that duck is followed by a big family of ducklings.

- Lilo says that Stitch cries at night. So, it would seem that even before he completely learned how to be nice, Stitch wasn’t entirely emotionless.

- This whole act of the film is heart-wrenching. First Nani gets confirmation that she and Lilo will be separated, then Stitch starts to fear that he may have caused it. Then because of that? Stitch leaves, taking only the Ugly Duckling book with him. And he can only see in himself the page of the Duckling, lost and crying.

- Then Jumba tells Stitch, who’s already in a bad place emotionally, that he was made to destroy, has no family, and could never have one.

- I don’t want to think about what happened to that chainsaw.

- There’s a certain feeling that comes up in the middle of this fight scene, where you realize that a house is being destroyed, a house belonging to a family that was very much at risk of separation. And you realize that this will only hurt their case beyond any repair.

- If the past day hadn’t been bad enough, Stitch is told by his best friend Lilo that he ruined everything, and to get away.

- And so Nani really does have her sister taken away. Now, taken away by aliens is a lot different than taken away by social services. It’s worse. This way Nani knows that Lilo definitely won’t get a loving family, and Nani will definitely never see her again.

- The confusion is visible on Jumba and Pleakley when Stitch goes and comforts Nani with a quote about family. All they know about Stitch is that he was made to destroy. And then, once he’s captured, he does just about the opposite.

- “Ih.” To this day I sometimes say Ih on reflex when asked a yes-or-no question. Guess I watched this movie way too many times as a kid, huh? ...I regret nothing.

- Originally, the big red plane-looking thing was supposed to just be a plane, and it would’ve flown through a city. And it was changed because it was too soon after 9/11. But me personally, I think the big red thing is real cool, and I like it flying through the valleys.

- “Stitch is unconscious.” I like that Jumba calls Stitch by his name here. In the series, he always calls Stitch “626″ but his name is Stitch. And I like the rare occasion when that’s respected by the mad genius who created him.

- I want to believe that Stitch dodged that laser for the sake of the frog he was holding more than for his own sake. Stitch is strong enough that a few moments later, he survives an explosion of a whole truck that he’s lying on top of.

- Stitch proudly calling himself “cute and fluffy” is another thing I just love. Might be reading too much into it, but I like that he can call himself by those descriptors and still have total confidence in his ability to kick Gantu’s patookie.

- My favorite scene in the movie, and the scene I took the picture from.

Stitch corrects the Grand Councilwoman about his name. And when he’s told that he needs to go in the ship (the implication being that he’ll be punished like he was meant to be at the beginning), he doesn’t rebel or try to escape. He only politely asks that he be allowed to say goodbye.

He explains that his family is “little and broken, but still good”, both explaining it to the councilwoman and reassuring Lilo and Nani.

This is the ultimate display of how Stitch has grown. And he grew because, despite what Jumba said, Stitch could find, and did find, the one true place he belonged: With a good, loving family.

- The Grand Councilwoman is clearly remorseful that they’ll have to separate Stitch from his family, but she can’t bend the law for this one case. And she doesn’t, but it just so happens that, legally speaking, Lilo owns Stitch. And, well, what self-respecting Grand Councilwoman would steal a child’s property?

- A lot of people (including middle-school me) say that the stuff with Stitch and the aliens get in the way of the story of Lilo and Nani. I disagree. These two stories are intertwined, both about people wanting to stay with the family where they know they belong. I just couldn’t, at all, imagine one without the other.

- Now this is the kind of ending I love. It’s become common for animated movies, sequels in particular, to end on the two main characters getting separated. But here? Stitch is now a definitive part of the family, and won’t be separated from them anytime soon. Anime? What anime?

FINAL THOUGHTS:

I guess I’ll be doing this on the rare occasion I cover movies...?

Anyway, this is a great movie. A modern classic. And one of very few things that doesn’t just hold up from when I was a kid, it gets better. When I was a tiny kid, I was only interested in the space aliens. When I was in my early teens, I thought the aliens were kiddy stuff.

But nowadays, I can truly appreciate it. I can appreciate how both aspects are vital to the movie. Lilo and Stitch are both equally important. You can’t have one without the other.

And most of all, I can appreciate the story of Stitch (as well as Jumba and Pleakley) finding a family, and Lilo (as well as Nani) saving theirs from being torn apart.

Lilo & Stitch brings me to tears of both joy and sadness every time I watch it. And I guarantee I’ll be watching it many more times in the future.

...Does it still count as a Stitch Day special if I’m posting after midnight? No, probably not. I thought I’d only take two hours, then I took four and a half. Guess that means I had more thoughts than I thought I did!

#Lilo and Stitch #Lilo & Stitch #language #Jumba Jookiba #Stitch #Experiment 626 #Captain Gantu #Wendy Pleakley #Lilo Pelekai #Scrump #Nani Pelekai #Cobra Bubbles #David Kawena #Grand Councilwoman #long post #my new best post yet #Movie

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