#despite the branding this is only rated t LOL | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gaiuswrites · 3 years ago

Text

Ashore

Part one | Open Waters

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Frankie leave the beach with only one thing on your minds.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3.6k~

Warnings/tags: smut, ✨butt stuff✨, oral (f receiving), some lovey-dovey shit

Notes: Here we are friends. You don’t necessarily have to read Open Waters to understand the contents of this chapter (considering it’s mostly just booty bumpin’). You can thank heathens @javierpcna and @whataperfectwasteoftime for the debauchery to follow. It’s been a while since I’ve written and I’m genuinely nervous to post this lol but alas. We have arrived. Is it shit? Is it pure filth? Who’s to say hehehe. Cheers bebes x

Masterlist | read it on ao3!

The worst part was, you had to get gas.

Frankie drives. You sit beside him.

The return trip is hushed with anticipation—with sullied stain-glass imagery occupying the void. You've said next to nothing since you packed into the car; the only noise comes from the radio—the preset station phasing in and out as you wind along the backroads leading away from the shore—Journey, Jimi, Led Zep and the like all crackling dry through the speakers.

Everything, each micro-movement, feels stifling— like burning ants under a magnifying glass— each gesture riddled with intention, Frankie’s words echoing clear in the caverns of your mind.

He glances left right at an intersection.

‘Anything?’

He flips on the turn signal, blinking one two one two one two.

‘You gonna let me have your tight little ass?’

He steers the wheel with the heel of his palm.

‘When I cum, it’s gonna be here—filling you up.’

The engine rumbles as you idle at a red light—stalling. Dawdling. The sun spills lazily from the horizon, draining the last of the afternoon’s light with it, bleeding the sky scarlet—emboldening the horizon— and you watch as the setting glow catches the hair on his arm—there, resting on the console between you. His hand fists over the gear, knuckles creasing as they tense around the worn, leathered head. You’re playing a game—a silent, ruleless game. You know he can sense you observing him, can feel the heat of your gaze weigh on the flex of his fingers—the same fingers that had ripped an orgasm out of you not two hours before.

You almost unbuckle your damn seatbelt and fly out of your chair. You nearly break with it, with the unspoken tension filling the car like gas and fuck, how you crave him; how you yearn to put those fingers in your mouth and suck—lave the summer clean off his digits and bob around the long width and—

The light turns green.

Frankie resumes his hand to the wheel, your lewd fantasy dissipating along with it.

It’s minuscule. You would have missed it save the fact that you’re so acutely aware of every fucking breath you two share in the aluminum confines of your old Jeep. It’s a subtle thing: Frankie adjusts his hips— innocent enough— but your eyes flicker over to find the groin of his drying swim trunks tented.

You’re not ashamed to say it— your mouth fucking waters, you salivate— and as if on cue, he squirms again, seeking relief from both the blood rushing south and the blister of your stare. His lips part— the rasp of an inhale as he prepares to speak—before his focus is torn down to the dashboard, an orange symbol popping up in the gauge stealing his attention.

“Shit,” Frankie mumbles under his breath. Looking around, he scans for a nearby station and groans at the realization that he’s just passed one, spotting it in the rearview mirror. “Shit.”

You swivel towards the passenger side window, attempting to hide the I told you so expression pulling wry at your mouth. Not that you’ll hang it over him, but you did inform Frankie that the tank was empty on the way to the beach. You hear another muffled curse come from the man beside you, and the world goes topsy-turvy and reverses itself— the act of Frankie making a grumbled U-turn.

He puts the gear into park with a huff, Van Halen’s solo abruptly cut short mid chord.

The car door opens with a rusty squeal and Frankie clambers out, fishing his wallet from his back pocket and swiping his card through the reader at the pump—but not before he squeezes a palm into the plush of your thigh, thumb searing like a brand into your skin. I’ll be quick.

Fuck, you could have cum right then.

Your gaze follows his movements, dogging after him as he waits on the gas to fill— arms folded across his chest, strong build leaning on the frame of your car.

It’s not a novel concept to you, but God is that man broad. The ratty t-shirt he wears clings to him, pulled taut between the plane of his shoulders, the cut of his tricep apparent even from your vantage point; the corded muscle running up his neck flashing as he watches the digital numbers on the screen tick higher.

Shit, you’re aching for him— you can feel yourself throb into the crotch of your swimsuit. You’d have him right here—in the backseat, steaming up the glass— if it weren’t for the overencumbered bags and rickety beach chairs crowding the space.

With herculean effort, you wrench your eyes off him in search of a distraction, letting them drift to the dark flooring of the car. It’s been dirtied—white flecks speckling the interior—and you won’t be able to get the sand out of the matted carpets for weeks. It’s a nuisance, to be sure, but you have to admit that you’re sort of fond of it; little memories, vestiges in the grains, lingering long after the season ends.

Hello, remember me? each granule chirped, remember when we laughed giddy for hours, maddened by the grace of the sun? Remember when we burned red that time we forgot sunscreen? Remember when we bought soft serve from the surf shack and it globbed sticky down our wrists? Remember when we when we when when when…

Frankie, ever practical, hates it. It’s a pain in the ass, he’s told you, regaling you with the woes only a mechanic would care to know. It ruins the upholstery.

You’ve had your exchanges about the topic—your faux-squabbled back and forths—and yet despite himself, he can’t help but like that you like it. Conceptually, he gets it—it annoys him to kingdom fucking come and he’ll almost certainly take the vacuum to the mats first thing tomorrow, but he understands. He understands it.

He understands you.

You’re like that, you and him. You’re different. You are made of different things, a compository of fractures and fragments. Mosaic tiles. You don’t quite fit—not all of you—but you never force the pieces into any sort of place. You admire each other’s mismatched bits, those sweetly quilted jigsaws, and you hold each one up to the light and point at the unique curves, the notches and swoops there, and say I love you, I love this, I love this too.

When Frankie keys up the ignition and puts the car in drive, he keeps his hand on your lap. Arm resting over the median dividing you, calloused palm sealing over your quad, his fingertips knead a pulse into the meat of your leg with each bump in the poorly paved road— a reminder. A vow. Almost home.

You think he does it just to torture you.

It fucking works.

The sound of laughter parts the front door as you enter— Frankie had made some colorful comment about your absolute favorite neighbors, the ones who always leave their damn garbage bins in front of your driveway— and your key ring clatters as it hits the bowl on the side table.

You discard the bags, plopping the sandy things down in the entryway, and kick off your sandals— bare soles padding along lacquered wood paneling as you head to the kitchen for some much needed water.

The sound of the tap running camouflages Frankie’s movement, you don’t hear him behind you. He’s got stealth in him, harbored there from before. He’s light on his feet when he chooses to be—nimble-like, bordering on feline—and you startle with a bubbly chuckle when you spin around to discover him far closer than you anticipated.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping us hydrated,” you grin, as if it were obvious. You’re welcome.

He hums, the note rumbling against the cage of his ribs, and lessens the distance between you with a single stride. “That can wait.”

He rids you of the glasses, hurriedly placing them on the counter, and meets you in a kiss—and fuck can that man kiss. Frankie, like with all things, is responsive—attentive. His lips are fever-laced and wanton, and he roves against yours like they’re designed to— fated for no one else’s but your own— nipping and tonguing at your honeyed whines, orphaned there in the well of your mouth.

His hands vine up your body, so deprived of the luxury of your form - of touch - and he grabs at anything he can— your hips, your waist, your breasts through the cotton of your shirt— their half moon curves sitting ripe in his palms.

After ushering you up to the countertop, he strips you of your jean shorts, your bikini bottom sloughing down your calves along with them, and hoists your feet onto the fake granite, prying your legs wide for him.

When he gets an eyeful of your gleaming pussy, pearled with arousal, the wind gets punched straight out of him.

“Jesus honey,” he groans, “you been like this the whole ride home?”

Your brain is numb, lagging with lust. You don’t trust your voice to speak—all you can do is nod.

“Poor thing,” he simpers. “Poor pretty thing, all wound up for me—all wet.”

You whimper at his tone—graveled, just shy of condescending—and your knees weaken shut before he snatches them apart.

“Sit still.”

It’s a command, there’s no room for disobedience; he orders it with a soldier's voice—that dead thing he wears like dog tags around his neck. Vice grip widening your legs, Frankie sinks down onto his shins, head leveled with your core, engrossed with the sight of your damp sex quivering.

Blotchy warmth creeps up your neck, like ivy crawling over brick.

He’s staring at you— hungry and possessed and simply staring at your open cunt and you begin to fidget once more—riling under his umbered appraisal.

“Sit still baby girl,” he murmurs, softer now and desperate too—intoxicated with the heady perfume of your heat. “Lemme just— fuck, I gotta taste you…”

When he swipes the deft muscle of his tongue through your slit, your head careens back onto the cabinets, plates and bowls rattling behind the wood.

Oh god, Frankie.

He’s got a talent for this— an excruciating, body wracking talent. He thirsts for you something dangerous, something unquenchable; he tugs at your labia, forming his lips around your clit, lapping at your essence— the ocean musk, that sea foam wet.

You fumble through his hair, mussing the saline woven strands with urgent fingers as you grind grind grind, rolling your hips to meet him in a covetous show of want and he purrs into your pussy as you fuck his face, the scratch of his stubble chafing at your legs.

It doesn’t take long, not with the fervor of how he’s claiming your cunt with his mouth. You soak Frankie’s chin— you nearly fucking drown him with it—and he’s glistening with you when he finally emerges for air, pulling you to him to slant his lips against yours, letting you savor your own taste on his hot tongue.

“Bedroom. Now,” he husks, breath hitching as his nose grazes along your ear, and with two hands under your armpits, he gathers you off the countertop. Frankie lands a swat at the plump of your backside, sending you scurrying through the living room with a shriek—completely bypassing the abandoned pile of laundry left lying on the couch.

He smirks—delirious and ramrod stiff—sauntering behind you, enamored with the pendulum sway of your hips as you lead him to the bed.

You’ve never been here. You’ve never gone this far. You both have tiptoed this narrow line for months; he’s fingered your ass plenty—you have even gone so far as to don a butt plug. You’ve discussed anal—toyed with the idea, flirted in circles around it like tittering birds.

But you’ve never taken Frankie’s cock. Not yet.

He’s been working you loose and limber for the better part of fifteen minutes, delving himself knuckle deep into your slicked hole until you’re sputtering for more— until you’re downright sopping and fucking shaking— and not with trepidation but with desire. Frankie’s made you gluttonous. Frankie’s made you voracious.

You’re starving for him.

“You gonna let me have this now?” He presses a digit over your ass, kissing his thumb into the knot there.

You tremble, nodding frantic.

“Think this pretty little ass can take me, baby?”

He serves you a slap, plush skin jiggling and pricking pink under his palm. You keen into him, in search of the promise he’s been baiting you with and you arch your hips, gyrating back onto fucking nothing.

“Yes. Yes—” You twist, chin corkscrewed around to see him. You want to watch. You want to watch as he disappears inside you— as you swallow him.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks, suddenly gone gentle around the lines fraying from his eyes—those wrinkles he’s hard-earned and won, like badges, like medals—from all his years spent under an unforgiving sun, all of that which he has seen and endured. Survived. Your Frankie, always thoughtful, always checking. A goddamn gentleman, even now—even as his dick brays hard and angry against the soft of his tawny stomach. “Because really, we don’t have to—”

You cut him off with a whimper, splaying your pelvis up to him—spreading yourself, letting him see the filth dripping from your seam, dappling your inner thighs. “Fuck me,” you whine, both holes puckering for him. “Fill me up, like you said you would— please.”

Something shifts across his features like a shadow and his expression morphs until it steels— his pupils dilating to a predatorial onyx— and he spits into his palm, coating his shaft, jerking himself with it.

He hisses as he guides himself into you, as you accommodate around him, as you envelop him entirely— inch by veritable inch. He has to station a hand to the base of your lumbar, struggling to maintain his composure—air rattling in and out his lungs as he attempts to breathe.

“Shit,” he gasps, “t-this okay?”

You fist the comforter, coiling the fabric into a ball. It’s a stretch— it’s a real goddamn stretch— and briefly you consider that he might, in fact, snap you in two...

Francisco Morales is going to split you clean in half—and God, if you don’t you love it.

“Yes - yes baby - keep going. D-Don’t stop.”

He pitches into you, setting a legato tempo— transfixed by the lurid juncture where you converge into one. “You- you’re so tight. Shit, you’re—”

He silences himself with a delicious moan, biting at his lower lip until the vessels there burst and it purples, and deals a particularly aggressive thrust— one you respond to with an ugly wail of your own, eyes somersaulting in their sockets.

You’re both impatient, verging on rabid, and it doesn’t take long for him to set a rougher pace and fuck you faster - harder - hammering into your ass until you see stars, popping and fizzing in front of your retinas, a symphony of guttural grunts and carnal praise fogging up the bedroom.

Your pussy feels so empty you could cry—weeping and gaping and fluttering for him as he takes your tight ring of muscle, fucking himself to the hilt. It’s like he’s behind your brain—like he’s carved his way up your spine and nudging at the nape of your neck with how deep he’s driving into you—restless. Ceaseless. His balls slap slap slap against your puffy cunt and you pant— girlish and buoyant with the dulled smacks to your sore clit.

“Please,” you sob, “Please, I need—”

You can barely push the words out—your mind is of no help and your tongue lolls useless, languid in your mouth. Your motor functions have all but puttered to a halt, every scrap of you fighting to stay above the sensation that’s threatening to drag you under its current. The rip tide of it all, of Frankie’s cock, coursing through your ass, tempting to hurdle you out into the dark, wet blue.

“Tell me,” Frankie rasps, scraping through his throat. “Tell me, pretty baby.”

Your response is pathetic—you can hardly dignify it as a response at all. Your temple is pressed into the mattress, hair knotted with brine and sand, and all you can do is coo.

Frankie folds over you, angling himself to graze his teeth over your shoulder—savoring the salt and sex tang bathing your skin, all those pheromones and velveteen chemicals anointing you—baptizing you anew for him. He’s gruff when he murmurs, his beard grating your freshly tanned skin.

“C’mon sweetheart - hng, fuck - what do you need?”

“My clit,” you rush out, needy. “My clit. Please, oh my god Frankie I-I need you to, I need – oh fuck—” And your pleas are mummed by a rapturous moan as he trails his hand from the hollow of your hip to the apex of your cleft and flicks.

Fuck. Fuck, oh Christ—

There’s a ringing in your ears, buzzing you deaf, making you dumb—or maybe it’s just your heart, beating loud and errant against your skull—you can’t say. You don’t feel human. Frankie’s pounding into that cinched channel and playing with your clit—swiveling eddies into your swollen nub—and you feel like an animal. You feel debased. You feel disgusting and perfect and you’re fucking drooling; cheek squished and mouth agape, saliva pools from your wagging maw, darkening the white linen you’re being driven into.

“You need me in your pussy, too?”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer him— he already knows what you need, how you need to have every part of you gorged on him— and Frankie dips his fingertips into your entrance, hooking them up and up and in, fucking in time to the cant of his hips.

He’s in you. Everywhere, everywhere—every possible neuron and synapse consumed with him.

“You need me like this—fucking you this deep? Fucking both your pretty holes?” he growls, weaving his hand lower to grab a fistful of your hair, rucking your head up. Throat stretched bare for him, your mewls muddle to cock-drunk cries as he spears you on himself again and again and again.

Yes yes yes fuck harder please please Frankie

You're pleading with him—you’ve been reduced to meager begging— and a chorus of slurs sings your release as you contract around him and cum, the cradle of your hips bucking reflexively.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he seethes, “you’re so good for me baby, Jesus fuck—”

He’s close now—his blissed finish drawing nearer and nearer with each sharp snap of his hips. Frankly, he’s shocked he’s managed to last as long as he has; it’s a small miracle he hadn’t cum the instant he slotted himself inside you with that very first stroke.

“Baby,” he warns, losing his rhythm. You saddle your spine, hollowing out the valley of your back and arch pretty and supple for him— preening under his weight. He moans at that, and through your fucked out haze you have the wherewithal to smirk at him, devious and prideful, a wild look owning your eye.

Frankie has to brace himself on your hips, untangling from your locks to bruise into the pillow of your skin— gripping on for dear fucking life as he plows you. You’re strangling him. You’re strangling the thick of his cock until he’s dizzy with it—until he’s feral and blind and he can’t hold on, can’t keep fighting this fucking monsoon that’s raging in his core.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna—fuck me, oh shit—” He shouts, spurting inside you thrust for thrust, painting your virgin walls with his seed. It’s too much— after all that, and you’re still too tight— and he’s overstimulated to the point of delirium. Frankie roots himself still, cum dribbling out your stuffed hole while he rides out the high of his orgasm—his vision, his senses, his goddamn soul, slowly oozing back into him. When he slides free from you, he does so with a pained heave, leaving you yawning with his absence.

You feel shredded. Vacant. You’ve been sent to another fucking dimension all together.

Without wasting another second, Frankie claws you up. You’re easy and malleable, bones and muscles too strung out to protest, and he whirls you around to bar you to his chest—crushing your sweaty body to his with bullet marred arms— the same arms that have taken lives, that have spared them, too. The same arms that link around you, delicate and daisy-chained, like you’re the most precious thing he has.

And you are.

You are.

Frankie kisses you breathless, drinking rich from your cup— tongue greedy and reverent as he kneels there at your altar, praying his sins into your mouth.

So gorgeous, he croons, peppering your face—your flushed cheeks, your perspired brow—with his lips as he tells you over and over and over again.

So good for me, pretty baby

Was that okay?

Fuck, you’re a dream

You’re my best girl—you’re my only girl

Was that okay?

God, you’re my whole fucking world

Was that okay? Was I okay?

Are you okay?

You swoon, helpless to the contented sigh that seeps out from you like mist. You’ve gone limp against the breadth of him. He has reduced you to rubber, left wobbling in his grasp, and you’re so damn full—your heart and your body—all of it. You feel unequivocally complete. You feel safe, you feel home.

You are home. Francisco is home.

He’s flattening out the nest of your hair, taming the damage he previously delivered to it, earning from you a sleepy grin into the muggy crook of his neck. And with the last of your waning strength you hold his pieces up to the light—the light you left on in the hall as the night grew dark around you, the one who’s yellow glow your naked bodies bask in now, and you say

I love you

I love this

I love this too

tags:

@krissology @heartsofbeskar @madhattervanessa @andiesturgss @sharkbait77 @tenderwhat @javier-pena @pedros-mustache @frannyzooey @chasingdreamer @djarinsbeskar @thosewickedlovelies @juletheghoul @not-the-droids @filthybookworm @pilothusband @letterfromvienna @keeper0fthestars @greatcircle79 @day-off-inkyoto @mermaidxatxheart @lawfulgranola @heatherbel @quica-quica-quica @stuckonthefiction @janesbrontes

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #Frankie morales fanfic #Frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie x you #frankie x reader

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hajimewhore · 4 years ago

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Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 2.1k words ➷Humor, fluff, awkwardness, mild miild nsfw but not explicit, I will say I can only assume this kinda thing happens when you swap bodies lol ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, ✈Part 3, Part 4

You initially dreaded the conversation with Hajime’s parents, wincing on the way through the door with a slight panic washing over you. But after a short and pleasant talk with them, you came to find the conversation flowed more naturally than you’d anticipated.

They’re not as doting to Hajime as they are to you, you note, but they’re friendly and pleasant and you feel as if you’re talking to your own family. Much like your own parents wanted a son, Hajime’s always wanted a daughter, so they often acted as your second set of parents. You feel a bit silly in retrospect, they’re as charming as ever with Hajime as they are with you.

They mostly inquire about Hajime’s day, and after a bit you excuse yourself to ‘study’, escaping to Hajime’s room. You’re beginning to feel positive about the next school day after the interaction, confidence boosted.

Who knew you would turn out to be such a good actress, better than you thought! Award winning, honestly. This whole body swap will be a cake walk. You can totally pull off being Hajime!

It seems you can definitely pull off the acting portion, but the sweat sticking to your clothes from your exhausting (emotionally and physically) practice is starting to make you consider the hygiene aspect of the swap. Which, has you feeling wildly uncomfortable.

This cosmic joke, shitty trope of a situation has you experiencing humiliation and embarrassment at levels you didn’t even realize were possible to achieve.

Normally after a grueling practice, you wouldn’t hesitate to hop straight into the shower and blast the hot water over your skin, feeling your muscles and aches soothed. But this isn’t your skin, or your muscles. You’re consistently reminded every hour, minute, and second, that it’s all Hajime. You should feel comforted that he’s definitely experiencing the same emotional crisis as you, but it only serves to heighten your distress.

Cheeks immediately heating at that, you recall the conversation with Hajime from earlier at the park.

“Just... let’s not think about it. And let’s definitely not talk about it. It’s a natural part of life.”

You know full well of the agreement you came to with red stained cheeks, but is there any way you could go without it? And drench yourself with Axe body spray? Or whatever it is guys like to use. You bet it would make a good repellent, no one would want to talk to you if you smelled like that.

You scrunch your nose, dashing the thought immediately, definitely not. Not only would it make you feel gross, Hajime would whack you first thing in the morning, and probably shove you in the shower himself.

‘No big deal, no big deal, it’s no big deal, you can do this!’

You find yourself chanting silent encouragements as you peel your shirt off, pitching it into a laundry basket. When you catch your reflection, a dark pink creeps across your features.

Yep, that’s still Hajime’s face,

‘Gaaah, don’t look at me like that!’

You press your hands to your face, but you end up peaking through your fingers anyways. The low sweats definitely don’t help, and neither do Hajime’s well defined abs.

You’d been true to your word when you told Hajime you hadn’t seen anything, but now you’re a little desperate to know what the deal is downstairs.

You won’t look. You shouldn’t. You don’t look. You definitely do not look.

You look,

pulling the sweats down, and shoving the briefs just past your thighs, you bite your lip at the revelation.

Okay.

Alright.

This is fine.

This is totally fine.

Hajime is just secretly packing.

WHAT THE FUCK?

You suppose it wasn’t necessarily a secret, it was always assumed of Hajime. You’ve also been privy to the third years’ cock talk at lunch, and he always did exude big dick energy, but damn Hajime.

Wait. Are you—

NOPE.

NOPE NOPE NOPE YOU ARE NOT DEALING WITH THIS RIGHT NOW.

You cover your face again, a recurring action today it seems, cheeks burning rampant and hotter than ever before. You feel a prickly hot and itchy feeling light a fire up your back to your neck, the heat of pure, unbridled, embarrassment coursing every vein.

Were you... getting a boner?

NOOOOOOO.

From being turned on by Hajime? While you are Hajime?

This is some paradoxical bullshit you are simply not having right now, not tonight, not tomorrow, and hopefully never again.

Despite the shame and humiliation beating down on your psyche, you risk a glance to see how much bigger he looks than before.

“Cold shower, yep. Cold shower helps, right?”

You immediately shove the briefs the rest of the way down, before hopping in the shower, starting it up at the coldest setting. Hopefully the freezing water will wash away not only your transgressions but also your mortification.

You squeak at the cold, bite your lip and shiver, tough it out, and will away the uncomfortable situation.

You sigh, hoping the morning will go smoother than the swell night you had, hopping down the steps of Hajime’s house.

You cross the street to meet up with him and Tooru, already seeing their figures across the road.

“Ha-Hey.”

You almost slip up with his name, but you make a clean save. Mentally patting yourself on the back, you glance to see Hajime’s bitter expression and—

Your jaw drops when you catch sight of... yourself. Your silent wish for a trouble-free morning is cast aside as you examine his appearance.

Hair unkempt, face completely bare, not even moisturizer or at least sunscreen to be seen, did he even try?

“Ha hey to you too, Iwa-chan.”

Tooru raises a brow at the odd introduction, clearly noting the slip up (and also the fact that Hajime usually settles for a short grunt and never a ‘Ha-hey’), but you can’t be bothered to entertain him right now with the current Hajime dilemma.

“Right, whatever,” you direct your attention to Hajime, “can I grab that thing I lent you yesterday?”

“What are you talking about? You’re being weird, Hajime.”

He warns you with a stern look, but you aren’t having it,

“I’m not, I know you have it, we can grab it right now. Tooru, you go ahead. I’ll see you later.”

You push Hajime back in the direction of your house, and Tooru frowns at his abrupt seclusion with zero explanation.

“Are you guys seriously ditching me?”

Tooru raises a brow, arms akimbo with a disgraced look.

“Yeah, we are, Shittykawa. Let’s go.”

You hate to diss Tooru without a solid reason, but it’s pretty on brand for Hajime, so you bite out the nickname with minor discomfort on your lips. You impatiently grab Hajime, before pulling him towards the steps of your house, Tooru’s complaints going unheard behind you.

“Hajime! You’re not wearing any make up! And my hair is a mess!”

You whine out, sitting him down at your vanity.

Hajime merely scowls,

“Seriously? That’s what this is about? Don’t scare me like that, I thought there was something wrong.”

He moves to stand, but you shove him back into the seat with a little more aggression than intended, you lowkey forgot how strong Hajime was.

And Hajime looks up at you with a incredulous expression, feeling a little scandalized, as a woman, that you would handle him like that.

“There IS something wrong though. I look awful! At least wear some foundation and mascara, that stuff is easy to apply!”

You pull out your make up box, flicking on the mirror light.

“I think you look fine this way,” he huffs, “you don’t need all that shit.”

A frown tugs at his lips, and you feel your heartbeat quicken at his earnest display. You bite back a wistful sigh, this is exactly the reason you’ve always been so drawn to Hajime. Rough around the edges, but there there’s no bullshit when it comes to him. He doesn’t disguise his intentions, doesn’t waste time saving face. He’s just genuine, unadulterated, Iwaizumi Hajime, what you see is exactly what you get, and you honestly wouldn’t have him any other way.

Setting aside your thoughts for another time to privately dwell on, you ignore the feeling.

“Really? That’s nice of you to say. Keep going.”

You smile, pink dusting your cheeks. You hope your expression doesn’t look too soft as you continue to apply the makeup to his face.

“Fishing for compliments now? No way, Shitty-L/N.”

“Nooo! Don’t call me that!”

You pause mid powder to cry out in your indignation, to which he masterfully ignores fixating his gaze on something more interesting than your whining, like the window sill.

After a bit of complaining, back and forth bickering about how uncomfortable the make up feels, you continue with a light highlight and mascara. You stop once you’re satisfied with your work, not bothering to deal with any extras like eyeliner or eyeshadow.

“All this for what? It tickles, and you can’t even touch it.”

Hajime’s hand hovers over his cheek, careful not to smudge anything. You must’ve smacked his hand away too many times, it seems.

“You get used to it. Plus it can be fun to try different brands and colors, and the little confidence boost isn’t bad.”

“Not that you need it.”

Hajime sighs out, standing from the seat to stretch. You’re sure it’s meant to be an insult to the crude ego you (and Tooru) tend to display, but you sense an underlying meaning that winds up boosting your ego even more.

“Anyways, we’re all done! And with time to spare.”

You chrip, gleaming with pride at your work. Add that too the list of things you should be, actress, and make up artist (next to pro volleyball player of course).

Hajime glances to the mirror, “’looks nice, I guess,” he hums in very faint approval.

That’s as good as a compliment to you, so you’ll take it!

He shifts to make way for the door, hooking his school bag over his shoulder.

“And it was definitely easier to do it on you than myself. Hey, maybe when you learn how to put it on yourself, you can do it for me when we switch back?”

You hover around him eagerly, and he rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to not smack his own body.

“No way in hell. The most I’ll do while we’re switched is that eyelash shit and the foundation or whatever,” he pauses, averting his eyes, “and only because it makes you so happy for some damn reason.”

You grin, ecstatic with his unexpected compliance, pulling him into a hug,

“And that’s perfect, eyelash shit and foundation or whatever is good enough for me!”

“H-Hey! Knock it off!”

It feels weird, being so much taller and hugging your body, but it still feels right considering it’s Hajime despite it all.

He tentatively returns the embrace, albeit awkwardly with one arm.

“We’re gonna be late if we keep bullshitting. Let’s go!”

He gently pushes you off and hightails it out of your room, and you laugh trailing after his awkward stomps.

“Also, wear your skirt higher!”

You call out behind him.

“What? No way in hell! This is the school standard, you always wear it too high!”

He spins around, uncomfortably smoothing out the skirt pleats as if the action could make it lengthier.

“I have nice legs, and I want to show it off!”

You growl, chasing Hajime down the stairs, grabbing onto the waistline of the skirt.

“That’s stupid and you know it. Just who are you trying to impress?! They shouldn’t like you for your legs!”

He holds a tight grip on the skirt and you scowl, prying Hajime’s hands away to yank up the garment.

“No one, it’s called fashion!”

You successfully tug the skirt higher, but a bit too much considering your panties are on full display.

You snort at the sight, “Hajime, you dog, are you wearing my strawberry panties?”

Hajime feels a sense of shame at the sudden breeze, mockery, and unfathomable humiliation.

“Knock it off, it’s just a school uniform idiot! And what the fuck else was I supposed to wear?!”

He tugs the skirt back down and you click your tongue, grabbing a fist full of the fabric to hike it back up.

“What are you two doing, we’re gonna be late!”

Tooru swings the front door open with a huff, eyes locking onto the both of you. You freeze position, instantly dreading the conversation that’s sure to take place shortly, whereas the tall setter halts at the display before him.

His precious, dear, sweet, childhood best friend’s hands are grasping at his brutish, caveman, heathen of a best friend’s biceps.

Said precious bestie’s hands are trying to shove aforementioned despicable heathen’s grip from her skirt, cheeks bright red

“Uh, this... isn’t what it looks like?”

A/N: I had extra extra fun with this part hahahaa,, sorry for the cliffhanger but I had to do it to ya, next part soon!

taglist: @cybergovl

Masterlist, Part 4

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime/reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader

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yvainegelinemarie · 4 years ago

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🖤🌸𝔐𝔯. 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔎𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔞 2021 𝔙𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰 ℭ𝔞𝔯𝔡 ℜ𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔢𝔴 🌸🖤

I’m late I’m late for a very important dick appointment, date!

✨ 𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔 𝐒𝖕𝖔𝖔𝐤𝖎𝖊𝖘!!~ ✨

Idk about ya’ll BUT these new karma cards got me all 🤰🏻🤰🏻🤰🏻

TW: Proceed with cation!! Do NOT open if you do not wish to soak your panties and/or cry your eyes out at my appalling sense of ‘humor’

*Today I will be rating the new Valentines Day art for the Karma cards. The rating process was done by comparing them to their previous valentines day cards and how they went against one another on their level of sexyness within each card.

🌸 𝕷𝖚𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓 | 7/10 | 2nd Place

⚰️ My daddy he be lookin fine a FOULK this evening with his tiddie out. My baby knows how to keep me fed if ya know what I’m sayin.😏💦

⚰️ This beautiful, breathtaking, princely, lavishing work of art!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHGHJTE5LILO; (srry, orgasim seizure).

⚰️ It’s just *pats eyes with handkerchief* I have never in all my life, witnessed a man of this design. Please, don’t mind me. I just need a moment to bask in the glory of this angel.

⚰️ The 💦water droplets💦, his bedroom eyes, that CHEST- I-I...I just need a moment...

⚰️ Lucien has once and always stolen my heart BUT I do have to say that based off of some past cards, last years valentines card, and compared to Victor’s card this year that my Lulu has to come in second. 🤧

⚰️ His sultry, princely and sexyness is all there but we all know that Lucien can pull off a very dominating demeanor. Yet here he’s just giving me very submissive vibes this valentines. (Not that there is anything wrong with that.)

⚰️ And then this card has the AUDACITY to turn into this?!?! 👀👀

⚰️ Sighhhh...It is just so hard to watch MC living your dream...

⚰️ This card just looks so sweet. The carressing embrace, Lucien’s calmly surprised expression, it’s just all so gentle. awwwwwe!!

⚰️ Although this card is very romantic Lucien still looks very submissive and sweet. (Like homie looks like he’s never done this before which. LIES. BITCH I KNOW YOU) 👏🏼👏🏼

⚰️ One of the things I love the most about Lucien’s character is his very teasing and dominating aura and last years valentines card sucked that up and did a beautiful job of expressing his teasing personality in the artwork. I am hoping that maybe where this art is lacking the date itself will make up for it.

⚰️ I do find this card to be the second most sexy out of all the boys but I feel like it just doesn’t feel as Lucien as I would have liked it to.

⚰️ I do however find the artwork to be very beautiful and embracing. Especially when the card is evolved. The way Lucien holds MC in the second card creates this very innocent and warm embrace that reminds me of two people just on the verge of falling in love.

⚰️ It is a very sweet and romantic card and it is quiet cute to see Lucien all blushing and off guard instead of his usual impassive self.

🌸 𝐊𝖎𝖗𝖔 | 6/10 | 4th place

⚰️ The bestest boi of them all!!! 🥰

⚰️ Litterally nothing gets sweeter than Kiro!!

⚰️ So sweet, so fun loving! This sunshine of a boi makes life worth living! ☀️☀️

⚰️ Kiro is definitely the one who shows up at just the right time to make life a little better and brings out the inner child that my sun in capricorn tries to repress so intensely.

⚰️ And this card does that sweet and playful image justice. Always stay warm Kiro!!! AWWEEE!!!

⚰️ All I can say is I wish I was that dog so I can paw Kiro’s chest too. 🤭

⚰️ Now, It pains me to put Kiro last but it is just that I feel that his card lacks a lot compared to the valentines card from last year.

⚰️ We were hit with a very sexy Kiro and there has been plenty of other very VERY sexy Kiro cards up to this one that it just causes this one to hit different, you know?

⚰️ This one really captures Kiro’s loving and boyish personality so I definitely love it over all as a Kiro card. I think that it does wonderful in that aspect. But for valentines day? I expect something a bit more saucy...like an underwear model shoot maybe... 😜

⚰️ BUT THEN we get THISS!!

⚰️ S-Shirtless Kiro *Internal screaming* kahhhh!!! I can’t take it I. 😝

⚰️ Sometimes I forget just how HORNY Kiro issss....

⚰️ I think it’s safe to say that MC is only making that face NOT bc Kiro took that magazine but bc she be getting poked sitting in that lap like that.- 👀🍆

⚰️ Shirtless Kiro is an upgrade from what we had before BUT I still feel like this compared to the other guys and other very sexy kiro cards before that this still only gives a very innocnet and homey vibe.

⚰️ I do think that this card is very cute but when rating it on it’s quality of sexyness comapred to the other boys, I sadly have to put Kiro as last place.

⚰️ I am just hoping that next year all the Kiro stans get rewarded with a nice Calvin Klein underwear shoot. (I know I’d be happy)😌😌

🌸 𝐕𝖎𝖈𝖙𝖔𝖗 | 8/10 | 1st Place

⚰️ Tall, dark, and handsome AS FOULK!!!

⚰️ Victor never comes in to play no games yall!!! 👏🏼💦

⚰️ Did I say Kiro was horny? because I take that back. Sometimes I forget how BADLYYY Victor is trynnnaaa FUCK in EVERYYY date. 💀

⚰️ But like I ain’t mad. First off, Victor, daddy, can I have that designer bag? I’ll suck your di-

⚰️ Just the abs, that boujee ass robe even the cute ass fucking ties on his arm I-

⚰️ Victor be putting the standards for guys really fucking high in my book. AND I AIN’T MAD.

⚰️ I just love this card. It is honestly my favorite out of all of them (sorry Lulu) It’s mature, it’s sexy, it’s elegant, suttle, and EVERYTIME I look at it my heart flutters. This card is VERY Victor and a beautiful design of his character and it makes me VERY horny happy. 💦💦

⚰️ T-That angle... *blushes* He is ready to go to town if ya know what I mean.

⚰️ But given that facial expression he’s already busted it- 👀🤧

⚰️ On a real note tho. Victor looks so sweet and vulnerable here (*what a pussy) it’s so cuteee!!! Like I ain’t ever seen him look so sweet. (*fucking bitch.)

*I have a love hate relationship with Victor since he always likes to piss me off!!! But he cute so.

⚰️ Again I think that this card is my favorite out of all four of the valentines cards this year. I feel like the intimacy in this one is there. The imagery is very sexy but soft. I love their pose and I think that this card sells where we all like our minds to wonder off too.

⚰️ My absolutae favortie part is the simple pull on Victors unbuttoned shirt. It is just so sweet and so soft of an embrance.

⚰️But also Victor’s hand on the counter. I want that hand to smack my ass so hard fuck. 😋

⚰️ If I had to (and I do) make one complaint about this card it is that I honestly HATE Victor’s expression in the evoled. It’s just too soft and sweet for my liking. And as a Capricorn myself I can assure you that any slip up of us expressing even just the slightest bit of our vulnerability to anyone we will rip ourselves apart head to toe for years on that one single event and I assume that even during Victor’s most intimate times that stone cold look would not fade as easily as it does in this card.

⚰️I think that it is beautiful and no hate to the Victor stans who think he looks hot AF in this card. I am all for it. I just personally like my capricorns whipped into shape. 😌

🌸 𝐆𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖓 | 7/10 | 3rd Place

⚰️ This one gave me the most and best shock.

⚰️ My favorite Gavin cards are by far this and his valentines card from last year.

⚰️ There is just something about Valentines day that gets Gavin in a sexy mood. (you’re secretly a hopeless romantic, aren't you Gavin huh...huh???)😏

⚰️ First off, GAVIN!!! I ain’t ever seen you look so SEXY. Sending me Eboy vibes to the MAX ughhhhh!!!!

⚰️ I love the straps on his shirt and the fact that it’s wet and the glove PULLLLL!!! FUCKK GAVINNNNN!!! 💦🔥💦

⚰️ Gavin for me is everything that’s hot that I just can’t get behind but I WANT to get behind. You know? haha.

⚰️ He’s just such a good boy and a sad boi all at the same time and he holds a soft place in ma heart (but he’s definitely a one night stand and then I never call him again haahaaaa ahhhh) 🤧

⚰️ And then this card!! It is so cute! SO sweet!!! and just very beautifully intimate. They look so in love!!!

⚰️ I just know for a fact that this night is very gentle and very passionate.

⚰️ S3x with Gavin may not be intense, but it is love that we all at one point need okayyy!!. *cries* 🥲

⚰️ Gavin’s card is probably my 3rd favorite out of all of the boys this year. I do really love his pose and they are very sexy and very sweet and also very Gavin for his event cards. I also enjoy that his expression is still very true to his character in the last card (I’m looking at you lulu and vic)

⚰️ I just feel like the art lacks a lot of story in Gavin’s cards (even his ones last year too) They just look like they took valentines day photos together lol.

⚰️ I don’t hate them and they are very beautiful I just wish there was more going on then what looks to be like Gavin modeling for a brand of Makers Mark Whiskey lol.

⚰️ I actually haven’t played a single Gavin date🤭...so I don’t have much to say on how he reacts to MC outside of the regular story line and I am sure that his valentines date for our English Sever with him was very wonderful. Based off of Gavin’s main story character I wouldn’t consider him very romantic or at least not the one in control of planning their dates. I think that of all the boys Gavin’s Valentines would be the most laid back and I would like to see more of Gavin’s character coming through with the artwork of these dates if that’s the case.

ENDNOTES:

⚰️ On a serious note these cards are very beautiful although...I think I honestly enjoyed last years Valentines cards more than this one (the ones we got this year in the english server)... (omg...no way...she said it)

⚰️ Don’t get me wrong! All these cards are VERY sexy and I do like it but I feel like they almost lack intensity that last year SOLD us.

⚰️ I guess what I am trying to say is they all feel too vanilla if you know what I mean... Gavin’s card is the only one that gives me a sense of spice despite him being the sweetest out of all the boys. I just feel that these in comparison to how lavish last years cards were that I want to see more intensity.

⚰️ I am curious to know if the cards will ever get to that point (I know that the game wont give us full blown porn scenes...*sigh* lol) but I am looking forward to seeing some imagery to withhold the imagination of such.

⚰️ Basically I’m sad that Lucien had no scratch marks. That-That’s it! You caught me!! I just want to see my daddy’s skin all scratched up!! Is that too much to ask for?!

⚰️ ALSO I WANT FULL SHIRTLESS (WITH NIPPLES) SSR CARDDDSSSSSSS AHHHFGJGKRIGKECGHGERMCHM!!!!

⚰️ This is all written for shits n giggles. Please take this lightly and kindly let me know what karma card you liked the most.

Thank you for stopping by, 🖤 Yvaine.

#mlqc #mlqc mc #mlqc lucien #mlqc gavin #mlqc victor #mlqc kiro #mlqc zhou qiluo #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc bai qi #mlqc xu mo #love and producer #mr love queen's choice #mrlovequeenschoice #mr love victor #mr love kiro #mr love gavin #mr love lucien

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varietysunsets · 4 years ago

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My Right Hand Man

Pairing: Diavolo/Kira Yoshikage Rating: T Tags: Domestic AU (with stands!), canon-typical violence, vague descriptions of murder, fluff, enemies to lovers? 👀 Word count: 7700

Description: Kira gets blackmailed into spending Christmas with his new neighbours.

A/N: happy holidays @doctorrosalia, here’s your @jjba-secret-santa ! sorry that this is so long, i havent written since last year’s secret santa so i was a little backed up lol. try to stay safe and relax in these bizarre times 🍹

Read on AO3!

August 28th, 1999

It all began when Kira spotted the moving truck next door.

It was fancy—a name brand with about three or four men in matching uniforms hauling furniture inside the house. Nice-looking furniture, at that. Mostly black leather or white suede, practically new. Modernist style.

Kira couldn’t imagine why someone would move into their Morioh subdivision if they could afford furniture like that. Either they were broke and trying to overcompensate for the fact, or they recently came into money but still weren’t sure how to handle it. Personally, Kira hoped it was the former; if this new neighbour had exorbitant amounts of money, they would probably try to remodel the house. Kira dreaded to think about listening to a construction crew for weeks at a time.

Kira watched the moving crew for a good fifteen minutes while he sipped his coffee. The crew hauled in a large, plastic-wrapped mattress, followed shortly by another, much smaller one, too.

Kira nodded his head. His new neighbour had a child. That wasn’t surprising. A lot of people in the neighbourhood had families. This was a relatively safe place, after all.

The thought made Kira smile a bit. With another sip of coffee, he checked his watch. Almost time to leave.

The movers continued to do their work, steadily unloading the huge truck. As Kira went and rinsed out his mug, he realized that he hadn’t yet seen his new neighbours. And then, it came to him that he would need to learn the schedule of these new neighbours, too. That left a sour note in Kira’s mouth—before, an old man lived there with his extremely young girlfriend. It was easy to bypass them and do what he needed, because the man was senile and the girlfriend was never home, probably partying or seeing other men.

Kira drew a steady breath, calmed himself. He turned to the table, where his girlfriend sat. Stiff, perfect, angelic, almost. All negative feelings washed away from him.

Lovingly, he scooped her up and held her to his face. He kissed the back of the corpse hand, savoring the feel of her soft, cold skin against his lips. She was fresh and delightful; really, he didn’t need to worry about the new neighbours for now, his current girlfriend would last for a good week or so. Maybe longer.

With another quick kiss, Kira wrapped his girlfriend back up and returned her to the fridge. He straightened his tie, collected his briefcase, and went for the door.

He took his time locking the door outside, if only hoping that he might catch a glimpse of his new neighbour. Unfortunately, the curtains were drawn tight and there was no sign of them outside, so Kira began his commute to work curious and unsatisfied.

—30—

September 5th

A week passed. Still, Kira hadn’t seen any sign of life from his new neighbours’ house. Kira tried to break it down rationally, to find clues to tell him anything about these new people; he assumed there was only one parent, given the fact that the furniture brought in was near-immaculate, but missing any feminine touches. Possibly a single father. The problem with that was Kira hadn’t seen a parent or even a babysitter come or go yet. Given the time of year, the child would be out of school, so someone needed to be watching it.

There was so much mystery surrounding these people that it made Kira nervous. He tried to mind himself and rationalize his anxiety, but every time he passed a window, he found himself staring out at the neighbours, desperately grasping for anything he could find.

The only thing different he could see since the neighbours moved in were the slightly open purple butterfly curtains in one of the second-floor windows. Every other set of blinds or curtains were drawn, blocking the inside off from the rest of the world. It was frustrating, so frustrating.

After waking up, Kira did as he always did; he dressed, went to the kitchen to start his coffee, and pulled his girlfriend from the fridge. A rank smell followed her; black rot began to take the edges of her wrist. Kira’s heart sank with despair and disgust.

He couldn’t focus on this right now, otherwise he would get frazzled. Kira shut the fridge door and walked through the house, all the way to the back porch.

The early-morning air was fresh and warm outside. Calm emotions ebbed through him as he breathed steadily.

Then, from the corner of his eye, Kira caught movement in the neighbours’ backyard.

Kira tensed, though he knew he wasn’t in any danger. Killer Queen materialized behind him, set and ready as it peered over Kira’s shoulder. In the neighbours’ backyard was a young child walking around, easily only a kindergarten student or younger, with bright pink hair wearing a sundress.

Kira relaxed, even laughed inwardly at himself. He waved Killer Queen away, though the Stand stayed where it was. Curious, Queen drifted to the porch railing and leaned over, as if closely observing the child. At this point, Kira could have gone back into the house, but there was a strange nagging feeling inside him that made him stay put.

A quick survey of the neighbours’ backyard told Kira that this little girl was completely alone and unsupervised; no one was on the back porch, and as always, the blinds were drawn. Kira knew that he was the most dangerous thing in Morioh, yet he felt uncomfortable leaving the girl alone. Odd, because she wasn’t his responsibility in the slightest. Perhaps only to keep his illusion of being a good person, Kira quietly observed the girl a little more.

She explored around the yard, plucking grass and dandelions. Her curly hair was cropped short around her head, bright pink. Kira had never seen anything like it. Queen beside him stared intently, unblinking, like a cat watching prey.

The girl knelt, scooped another handful of flowers, then happened to turn around. Kira jolted slightly as they made eye contact. Queen jumped to hide behind Kira; the cold feeling of its hands grasped Kira’s shoulders. Without any idea of what to do, Kira waved at her gently.

The girl didn’t smile. Her chubby cheeks perched in an almost-frown, but her yellow eyes were bright. She raised one grassy hand and waved back.

Kira thought she was cute for a child. He never caught onto the baby craze or any particularly paternal instincts, but perhaps now he could understand why women swooned over them. He waved again, smiling softly, then lowered his hand. The little girl put her hand down, too. She kept staring, then decisively started walking towards Kira.

There was no real divide between their yards, only a small grassy slope leading to a shallow valley. Kira kept his yard immaculate and mowed, the neighbours’ grass was almost to the girl’s knees.

The girl made it within three feet of the divide when a man came around the corner of the house. Killer Queen dematerialized, and Kira stood up straight again.

The man was tall and lanky, but despite that, his arms were obviously defined under the sleeves of a black rock band t-shirt. He had a wild mat of long pink hair, and a sharp face with dark circles under hard set, black eyes.

At first glance, Kira could tell the man was his age, but somehow, he seemed much younger.

“Do you have a problem?” The man asked sharply, with an obvious Italian accent. He walked past the little girl and stood partially in front of her.

Kira was taken aback, but he kept his cool. He smiled slightly and bowed his head a little.

“No problems,” He assured the man. His mouth felt dry. “I was just standing here.”

“You were watching my daughter, like a pervert.” The man accused.

Kira almost reeled. His stomach curled at the accusation. “I wasn’t watching her... That way. She looked alone; I was just making sure that she didn’t wander off. No ill-intentions, I assure you.”

Kira sweat bullets under the hard, distrustful stare of his neighbour. It felt like forever before he finally spoke.

“You mind your business next time.” There was no threat attached to the end of the man’s statement, but Kira felt it in his tone.

Shivers rushed up Kira’s spine. Nothing normally scared him, certainly not people, but this man made him feel things. A little bit of fear, maybe excitement at his audacity. It wasn’t the type of attitude people usually took in Morioh, especially not with mild-natured Kira Yoshikage.

“Welcome to the neighbourhood.” Kira offered, trying to recollect his composure. “I apologize that this is our first meeting.”

The man narrowed his eyes. He glared Kira up and down.

Kira forced a smile, even as he held his breath.

Without a word in reply, the man grabbed his daughter by the shoulder and ushered her back towards the house. “Come on, Trish,” he mumbled, so quiet Kira almost didn’t hear.

Trish went willingly, but not without casting one last glance at Kira. Expressionless, she waved.

Kira considered waving back, out of politeness, at least. But soon Trish and her father disappeared into the home again.

Killer Queen’s presence radiated behind Kira’s shoulder. Glancing back, Kira saw that Queen had its hand up, waving back at Trish. Kira rolled his eyes.

“Stop that. She can’t see you.”

Kira returned to his own house. Queen lingered a second longer, staring out unblinking at the lawn, before dissipating and following Kira.

—30—

October 12th

Summer fully ended, and with it came mild Autumn days. As always, Kira went to work, did his errands and chores, and over time he stopped thinking about his odd neighbours as much. He caught glimpses of them here and there, but hardly enough to focus on. Sometimes in the morning Kira saw Trish leave the house for school and join the other neighbourhood children for the commute. Other times, just after dusk, Kira caught glimpses of his strange neighbour creeping to the mailbox.

Through vague conversations with the mailman, Kira pieced together that his neighbour went by the nickname Diavolo. That was about the extent of what Kira really cared to find out; he knew this Diavolo’s schedule and that was all he needed.

So, life went on as usual for Kira.

He met a waitress at a restaurant with exceptionally beautiful hands. He stalked her home to a bustling apartment and strangled her before she had the chance to scream. Killer Queen disposed of the evidence, and the TV playing perfectly hid the sounds of carnage. The exhilaration from killing carried Kira all the way home as though he were walking on air. Kira kept his new prize nestled in his suit pocket; the lingering warmth from the corpse hand was delicious, and her skin was so soft when Kira stroked her.

Kira’s new girlfriend was exactly what he needed in his home; she fit in perfectly, like the missing piece to a puzzle. For the first time in what felt like forever, Kira was completely at peace.

Though every day of the following week was identical, Kira savoured it. Perfect peace in his quiet life, unnoticed and left alone—he couldn’t ask for anything more.

Before work on a Thursday morning, Kira checked his mailbox. He flipped through, sorting the junk from the important letters, almost mindlessly, until he got to an unmarked manilla folder at the bottom of the stack. Curious, Kira pursed his lips. He set the rest of his mail aside and opened the folder.

His heart stopped.

Inside were photographs. Photos of himself, taken through a window, kissing his girlfriend in his kitchen. Photos of him lovingly painting his girlfriend’s nails. Even photos of his girlfriend, from all angles, sitting out on the table and in the fridge, taken from inside his home.

Violent nausea washed over Kira. His stomach twisted into a knot, his chest clenched with anger. He wanted to collapse and scream and throw up all at the same time. Not only was he being watched, but whoever took these photos was inside his home. They touched his things and invaded his space, handled his girlfriend.

As Kira slid the photos back into the folder, he noted a letter tucked inside. Despite the waves of sickness washing through him, he managed enough coordination to read it.

And then he read it over again. And again. And Again.

The letter detailed extremely specific instructions for Kira. A time and place to be, down to the minute, and a gracious description of a man Kira was to kill, “however he usually does”. Then there were threats at the end—promises that Kira’s life would be upturned with the photographs and more if the task wasn’t completed, or if he tried anything suspicious. And that there would be more tasks to come later.

Kira couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. Almost in a daze, he brought his mail into the house.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Kira gnawed his nails until blood seeped down his fingers and dripped onto the table. Easily, Kira could see himself falling into a slippery slope, constantly running around killing for this blackmailer until he either got caught or got himself killed. Unless he figured out who the blackmailer was and struck first.

When Kira snapped back to consciousness, his hand was covered in blood. He licked his lips, and then went to wash up.

He called out to work that day, his first sick call in months. Kira faked a cough and apologized profusely. His boss wished him well and told him to get some rest and feel better soon.

Kira had no intention of doing either. He spent the day fretting, thinking and mulling over the letter—one part on how to kill and another on how to find his blackmailer.

—30—

October 20th

All things considered, the kill was easy; the target was passed out drunk when Kira arrived. Kira rigged the home with bombs as instructed, and quickly he discovered why his blackmailer wanted this man killed.

The target’s home was littered with photographs—ironically, Kira assumed they were to be used for blackmail, too. He took a moment to examine a few and found that both his and his neighbour’s homes were pictured. Another showed his neighbour leaving the house, in one of his mad dashes for the mailbox.

Though he had many questions unanswered, some of the mystery clicked. Kira finished his task and fled the scene. He was long gone by the time firefighters arrived to put out the blaze that was the target’s home.

—30—

October 22nd

Another letter arrived mysteriously in Kira’s mailbox. Just as Kira feared, the slippery slope had begun.

Once again, the letter listed everything down to the minute detail; Kira was to leave his home at 1:35pm that day and arrive at a nearby park by 1:48. Apparently, the sender had measured the exact time window it would take to get there. As with the last letter, this one was incredibly detailed and well-written, until the very end, that is. The final line read,

Find a young man named Doppio.

Talk soon.

Kira was given no description, no call to action, nothing. What was he to do when he found this Doppio? How was he even supposed to find him? What if he couldn’t?

Worry wrought Kira’s body. He chewed his nails the entire walk to the park, despite trying his best to remain calm. The signs of a beautiful fall day were around him; golden leaves tumbled from the trees and danced in the gentle breeze. All he could think about was whether his not-so-secret blackmailer would expose him completely.

Kira got rushed by violent thoughts of what he might do to this Doppio person when he found him. He wanted nothing more than to use Killer Queen and erase this fool completely, but he couldn’t. There was too much he didn’t know yet. And there were people walking around everywhere in this park.

Most notably, a younger guy with purple hair and a matching sweater struggled to keep a little girl, wearing a backpack and child-leash, in check. He laughed nervously to himself and chided the child gently.

At first, Kira paid them no mind, until he looked closer; the child looked strangely familiar. He paused to observe and realized that the little girl on the leash was his next-door neighbour.

Trish noticed Kira staring first. She glanced over her shoulder and stopped tugging on her leash; instead, she waved her hand at Kira, expressionless and silent. The man with her glanced back as well.

He looked Kira over, then his eyes lit up.

“Oh! Oh!” He said. “You’re mister Yoshikage? Um— Kiri— No, Kira, right?”

Kira bristled slightly. He dug his nails into his palm, in an attempt to soothe the desire to chew them. “Kira Yoshikage, yes.”

The boy sighed deeply in relief. He smiled a weary grin and dropped his shoulders. “Oh, thank god. I’m Doppio. The boss told me to come find you. He said— ha! He said I’d find some old blond guy in a suit walking around the park like a creep. But you’re not— you’re a lot younger than I was expecting.” Doppio laughed awkwardly.

Kira stared at him. His expression slipped into something intense and unimpressed.

Doppio’s laughter petered off. He cleared his throat. Trish tugged viciously on her leash, in a desperate attempt to chase a stray cat strolling by.

“Um... Should we... Walk and talk?” Doppio offered. His body jerked as Trish pulled. “The boss gave me some stuff to talk about with you.”

Kira couldn’t explain the feeling inside his chest. It was a seething anger; not only was he being blackmailed, he had to deal with someone like... This. It was almost insulting, in a very specific way.

Outwardly, Kira tried to seem calm. He bowed his head briefly to Doppio.

“Yes. Let’s go.”

For the most part, Trish led the way. She jerked Doppio every so often, in some violent pursuit of this or that, and without fail every time Doppio laughed awkwardly and gave Kira a ‘what can you do?’ sort of glance.

There were a few people in the park, strolling around and enjoying the day. Normally, Kira blended in well with the crowd, but he felt now that walking beside Doppio and the unruly child made them the centre of attention. Kira’s palms sweated; Doppio remained oblivious that people may be staring at them.

“So... You got the boss’ letters pretty easy, huh?” Doppio said, as though he were making small talk. Trish jerked his arm again, as she rushed towards a small playground in the middle of the park.

Everything about this felt surreal to Kira, like he was living in a fever-dream, or inside a carnival mirror. Maybe this was an elaborate prank, or Kira’s tailored personal hell.

“I did.”

Doppio waited a second for Kira to say more, but when it became obvious that he had finished his statement, Doppio awkwardly filled the silence.

“Well, the boss told me he respects how quickly you got the job done. And effectively! He’s really impressed by you, mister Kira. He thinks you have a lot of potential.”

“That’s... Good.” Kira approached the conversation carefully, lest he accidentally offer unknown information.

Together, they approached the edge of the playground. Doppio knelt and unclasped the leash from Trish’s bookbag.

“Stay where I can see you,” Doppio said to her, but the moment she was free, Trish took off in a sprint towards the jungle gyms.

“If I can ask... Why didn’t your ‘boss’ come out here to meet me?” Kira inquired.

Doppio rolled the leash up in his hand and stood straight. “Oh, uh— he doesn’t really like being out in public, he’s kind of a hermit. But! This is confidential, I promise you can trust in me. I know everything, I won’t rat you out.”

Doppio led them over to some benches on the outskirts of the playground. No one else was around. Despite his weariness, Kira sat beside Doppio.

“I know I don’t seem very trustworthy, and you probably think I’m kind of a dork,” Doppio continued. Kira side-glanced at him. “But I’m Diavolo’s right-hand man. The only reason he sent me out here is because he doesn’t want any more paper trails, get it? This whole ordeal is pretty hush-hush.”

“Diavolo.” Kira repeated softly to himself. That confirmed it. He crossed his legs and leaned his elbow on his knee. “What does he want from me?”

Doppio fiddled with the leash in his hand. He watched Trish run around closely, in case she made a break for it.

“More jobs. The boss has a lot of enemies, you know? But he’s lying low right now, he can’t risk dealing with it himself.”

“Then why would he pick me, a complete stranger?”

Doppio laughed a little. “It’s not like you’ve never met. You live right next door, after all. It’s easier to keep track of you and everything.”

Silence settled between them. For a long second, Doppio and Kira stared at each other. In the background, gravel crunched as Trish fell off the monkey bars, only to quickly jump up and try again.

As the silence and its implications seeped in, Doppio’s expression dropped. Horror etched across his face.

“Oh, shit. I wasn’t supposed to say that. I— I...”

“I already figured that out,” Kira offered. His methods were always perfect, he had no enemies, no reason for anyone to suspect him; it only made sense that his new neighbour, Diavolo, the only new thing in his otherwise perfect life, was the cause of it all.

Doppio seemed slightly relieved, but still there were some hints of terror in his expression. He fiddled more with his hands and glanced around nervously. Then, he started to mutter, “Ring, ring, ring...”

Kira blinked. Doppio got up and paced, all while muttering to himself.

That was one way to leave a conversation cold, Kira thought.

“Ring, ring... Where is it...?”

Almost triumphantly, Doppio picked up a crushed, empty soda can. He put it to his ear and said, “Hello? Doppio speaking.”

Despair settled in Kira’s stomach. He was supposed to trust this man? This entire interaction already felt like a slap in the face, but this was too much. Kira hoped even more now that this was an elaborate prank, or maybe even just a long dream that he would soon wake up from.

Doppio’s eyes lit up. “Boss! Oh— yeah, yeah, he’s here. One sec.”

Doppio turned to Kira and held the can out.

“He wants to talk to you,” Doppio said.

At this point, Kira didn’t know what to think. He felt a thousand eyes staring at him, even though there were only a few people walking around, ignoring them.

Despite the absurdity of this, Kira took the can. Under Doppio’s expectant gaze, he put the can to his ear and said, “...Yes?”

“Yoshikage.”

Kira jolted. Directly in his ear was the voice of his neighbour—Diavolo. Deep and calm, yet heavy and serious.

Kira jerked his eyes to Doppio; the man stood there smiling, waiting patiently. Only then did Kira notice that one of Doppio’s eyes wasn’t quite right—the pupil was darker, twitching, in an uncanny familiar way.

“Listen to me, Yoshikage.” Diavolo whispered to him. Kira watched Doppio’s face the entire time; his lips moved with the speech. “You’re going to do exactly as Doppio says. If you lay a hand on my Doppio or my daughter, I will ruin your life in such a specific way that you will wish you were dead.”

Panic and fear gripped Kira’s lungs. He couldn’t breathe.

“Doppio has more power than you realize, and he will not hesitate to use it against you. And don’t forget, I have your life in the palm of my hand. Check your mailbox when you get home.”

Kira lowered the can from his ear and stared, shocked, at Doppio.

Doppio smiled back innocently. Both his eyes matched again, the irises a bright golden colour.

Kira couldn’t find the words to speak even if he wanted to. Doppio’s smile was almost haunting.

“Let’s talk about your next task then, mister Kira.”

—30—

November 1st

A woman this time, and a pretty one, at that. She had beautiful skin and excellent, gorgeous hands. Manicured. Adorned in expensive rings and a bracelet. Kira imagined she was a pianist, or even a harpist. Something about the delicate nature of her hands led Kira to believe she played an equally regal instrument.

Even though he was there on business, Kira saw no problem with keeping her hands. It would be a waste otherwise, he thought. After some quiet contemplation, and comparing them both, Kira settled on taking the left hand; her right index finger had a broken nail, while the left was completely intact.

Kira finished the job with a quiet blast from Killer Queen. He went home satisfied, with his new girlfriend safely tucked into his blazer.

As soon as Kira stepped into his home, the phone rang.

Confused, Kira glanced at the time; it was late, far later than when he usually got calls of any kind. Wearily, Kira moved to the phone on the wall and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Kira Yoshikage.” Diavolo greeted. “Did you have fun tonight?”

Kira felt shivers go down his spine. He considered hanging up, but something kept him standing there, waiting for Diavolo to say more.

And he did.

“I assume you did. Did you bring home a souvenir, by chance?”

Kira’s stomach wretched a bit. “What do you want? Can’t I have an evening in peace?”

Diavolo laughed. “Oh, sure. I don’t have another task for you yet, I just wanted to thank you for your work. Based on your reaction, I assume you got my gift.”

“...What do you mean?”

“I picked her out special for you, couldn’t you tell?” Diavolo stated, as though it were obvious. He laughed again, a haunting sound. “You’re a despicable man, Yoshikage, pretty perverted, but your taste is obvious.”

Suddenly, the corpse hand in Kira’s pocket felt impossibly heavy.

“No need to thank me,” Diavolo continued. “I’m sure you’re beyond grateful. I have nothing else for you right now, but we’ll be in touch. Ciao.”

Diavolo hung up, leaving Kira standing there, stunned into silence. Up until now, he assumed that everything about Diavolo was despicable. Weird and despicable. This, however, felt bittersweet; possibly the strangest gift anyone had ever gotten Kira, but also... The most thoughtful.

Kira didn’t want to dwell on it for too long. He did his best to push it out of his head, to Zen out while he went about his nightly routine.

Still, his mind wandered back to Diavolo. The strange gift. His deep voice.

It all haunted Kira, but not necessarily in a bad way.

—30—

December 10th 1:15pm

Over the course of the next month, Diavolo’s tasks shifted from murderous in nature to more... Domestic.

It was frustrating and borderline insulting at first that Kira was expected to go around collecting dry-cleaning and groceries—Kira was much more than someone’s errand-boy—but at the same time, Diavolo found intriguing ways to reward Kira for his service. Money and dropped hints to help him find new targets, always beautiful and model-worthy, in Kira’s opinion.

Though originally he despised Diavolo, now Kira couldn’t help but see some merit in the strange man, at least as far as his taste went and little else.

That being said, Kira’s next task was... Unexpected.

Kira got the call while he was at work, which jarred him, but he supposed that he shouldn’t expect any less from Diavolo at this point.

“Hello, Yoshi.” Diavolo’s voice pierced through Kira, giving him a gut-reaction shiver.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Why not? Does it make your skin crawl? You should consider it a term of endearment. I think more people should call you it.”

Kira sighed. “These calls are recorded, you know.”

Diavolo sounded amused. “I figured. I need a favour of you.”

Kira glanced casually over his shoulder. Though his expression remained calm, his palms started to sweat.

“A favour?” Kira ventured carefully.

Diavolo hummed in his ear. “I need you to pick Trish up from school today. And then take her to go get Christmas decorations for an hour or so.”

Kira furrowed his brows. As Diavolo spoke, Kira poked his pointer finger to his lips and chewed the nail.

“This is an odd favour from you,” Kira muttered, choosing his words carefully.

“I know. But you’re the only person I trust to do this.”

Kira wanted to laugh. Diavolo trusted him? Given the chance, Kira would strangle him and chop him to bits, then use Killer Queen to erase all evidence that he existed. He wouldn’t hesitate.

Yet at the same time, deeper down, Kira felt hesitation. He tried to play it off as self-sustaining worry, but he knew better.

Eventually, Kira replied, “I get off work at four.”

“Good. I’ll see you later tonight, then.” Then, Diavolo teased, “If anything happens to Trish, I’ll skin you.”

Kira chuckled at that, even though he knew that Diavolo was completely serious.

—30—

December 10th 4:25pm

Trish had no emotion and no expression when Kira came to pick her up. She left the other children playing on the playground without looking back and willingly approached Kira’s car. She was bundled up warmly in a jacket with matching splash pants and a knit hat.

“Hi Yoshi.”

Kira pursed his lips. “You ought to call me ‘mister Kira’ instead.”

Trish frowned and took an attitude to her tone. “Papa told me to call you Yoshi.”

“It’s more respectful for you to call me Kira.”

Trish paused a long moment. She pulled the knit hat off her head, revealing a tangle of short, frizzy pink hair.

“I’m gonna call you Yoshi,” she said decisively.

Kira couldn’t believe the audacity of this brat.

“At least call me ‘Yoshikage’.”

Trish wrinkled her nose. “Yoshi.”

Kira gritted his teeth. His mind was plagued by violent thoughts, and his hands twitched at his sides. Inside his chest, he felt Killer Queen itching to be released.

“Didn’t your father teach you to respect your elders?” Kira asked calmly instead.

Trish glanced up at Kira. Her expression soured further, and she stuck her tongue out.

“He told me I’m not s’pposed to go anywhere with strangers. Where’s uncle Doppio?”

“I’m not sure,” Kira said, holding in his annoyance. He opened the car door and ushered Trish inside. “We’ll have to ask your father later.”

Trish crossed her arms and pouted. After getting buckled in and settled, she stared angrily out the back window as they drove.

“...Is your ghost still following you?” Trish eventually asked.

Kira glanced back at her through the rear-view mirror. “I’m sorry? My ghost?”

“Yeah. The pink one.”

“I don’t have a ghost following me,” Kira lied.

“It waved at me,” Trish continued to say. She stared hard at the back of Kira’s head, as though it would make the ‘ghost’ in question appear. “It was big and pink and had kitty ears.”

Kira’s hands were clammy. He felt Killer Queen swell inside his chest, almost desperate to materialize after being talked about. Kira pushed it down.

“You have a wild imagination. There are strange things in this world, but I doubt ghosts are one of them.”

Trish didn’t seem satisfied with that answer fully, but seemingly she took it. To stave off further questioning, Kira turned the radio on. It worked well enough, until they reached their outlet mall destination.

Normally, Kira avoided the mall whenever possible, especially around the holiday season. It was too busy for his liking and the appeal of Christmas never really resonated with him personally; if anything, it felt like a waste of time. However, his anonymity laid on the line, so Kira put forth a forced smile.

“Your father wants you to pick out some Christmas decorations.” Kira told Trish. “Do you have any ideas of what you’d like?”

Trish shook her head. She intentionally looked away from Kira as they walked through the bustling mall.

Kira seethed quietly. He led Trish towards a specialty knick-knack store and shooed her in. “Well, think about it. Let’s look around.”

There was no shortage of Christmas decorations in the store. Everything was covered in red or green tinsel, doused with fake foam snow. Sparkly ornaments and colourful decorations flashed and sang everywhere. Kira couldn’t help being a little overwhelmed by the amount of pure, unadulterated Christmas spirit he was surrounded by.

Finally, Trish’s expression shifted slightly. Though she didn’t smile fully, she did seem mildly impressed by everything. She wandered further into the store, following singing snowmen and dancing Santa’s.

Kira tried to follow, but easily became distracted. For the most part, he wondered about how anyone could find these annoying traditions endearing. Personally, Kira preferred modest, if any, Christmas decorations and quiet nights by himself throughout the holidays.

While Kira wasn’t paying attention, Killer Queen materialized. It lingered behind Trish, glancing around and inspecting her as she admired a wall of Christmas tree ornaments. Curiously, it reached its hand out to swat her shoulder.

Kira caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. Before he could stop Queen, a separate entity appeared. All Kira saw was a flash of hot pink before it reeled back and punched Queen full force in the mouth.

At the exact same time, Kira also felt the punch being delivered on himself. The force made him reel, lose his balance, crash to the ground. Thankfully, no one else was in the aisle to stare and gape. Pain ebbed through Kira’s face, anger and confusion welled up inside his chest.

Kira stared at Trish in utter disbelief, clutching his jaw.

For the first time since Kira had met her, Trish emoted. She decisively picked a sparkly, pink disco-ball ornament off the shelf and held it close to her chest. She looked Kira over, and then said with a smile, “I have a ghost, too.”

—30—

December 10th 6:01pm

Kira wanted to drop Trish off on the doorstep and vacate. However, before he could he even ring the doorbell, Doppio threw the door open. He seemed flustered, his face slick with sweat and his smile wild and nervous. He had his sleeves rolled up his elbow. Kira noted a small, dark stain on the bottom hem of his sweater.

“Oh! Mister Kira, perfect timing. I was just cleaning up. Come inside, won’t you?” As Doppio spoke, Trish took the chance to slip inside. She brushed by Doppio, and he acknowledged her by ruffling her hair and saying, “Welcome home, sweetheart.”

Kira awkwardly held a paper bag of assorted ornaments and decorations by his side. His jaw still throbbed from the assault earlier.

“I don’t want to impose,” Kira said, though deep inside he wanted nothing more than to see the inside of Diavolo’s home; even just a glimpse would suffice.

Doppio opened the door further. He ushered Kira inside. “Not at all! Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable.”

Kira did come inside, and though normally he felt uncomfortable in barrages of social settings, he felt quite relaxed now. Maybe it was the relief of moving from a bustling mall to somewhere much, much quieter. Maybe it was that in combination with the excitement of finally seeing Diavolo’s home.

Doppio motioned Kira in and closed the door behind him. He smiled, and led the way towards the living room. The walls were crisp white and mostly clean; Kira noted a few criminal spots where crayon was smudged low on the walls.

“Did you want a coffee or a tea or anything?” Doppio asked. Obviously, he was just as excited about having guests as Kira was to be there.

“Tea would be nice. Whatever you have.”

Doppio grinned and nodded. “Okay! Sure, one sec. The boss’ll be right down, too.”

“No rush.”

Kira glanced around the living room, openly taking in everything that he could see. There was an odd dissociation between the niceness of the furniture and the children’s toys laying around on the floor. A collection of Barbie dolls lay discarded in the middle of the floor, along with an open case of pink glittery makeup, dangerously close to spilling on a lovely white carpet. In the very-most corner of the living room was a tall, fake Christmas tree; unsurpising, Kira doubted Diavolo would manage to find a real Christmas tree in Morioh. Upon closer inspection, Kira noted that there were drops of blood on one of the branches. And below, the floor was sparkling clean, but still wet; obviously recently cleaned.

Kira couldn’t help wondering what happened here. Potentially something to do with the fact Diavolo needed someone to pick up and distract Trish.

“Good to see you again.”

Kira twisted around. Diavolo stood in the doorway of the living room, and it occurred to Kira then that he hadn’t actually seen Diavolo since their first meeting. Kira’s heart skipped a nervous little beat, which he chose to ignore.

Diavolo looked much more well put-together than he did before. His hair was combed and fell neatly across his shoulders, his lipstick looked rushed but still befitting. Kira noted that along with a mesh shirt, he wore the same pants as Doppio.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Diavolo continued. He offered out a mug of tea to Kira. “Sit down. Make yourself comfortable while you’re here.”

Kira took the mug cautiously. Kira couldn’t help noticing that Diavolo painted his nails black; sloppily, at that. Kira tried not to let it linger in his mind, but as he sat down on a white suede chair, he couldn’t help thinking that, given the chance, he could have painted Diavolo’s nails much nicer. That thought, Kira realized, would probably haunt him for a while.

Diavolo took the paper bag of ornaments and brought it to the tree. He rooted through it, nodding his head.

“Excellent. I appreciate your help, Yoshikage.

“You know, you’re the only person who calls me by my first name.” Kira stated over the lip of his tea. “Everyone else has enough respect to call me Kira. I don’t even know how you found my full name.”

Diavolo grinned. He procured a box of white Christmas bulbs from the bag and turned it over in his hands.

“I respect you,” Diavolo said. “People I don’t respect don’t get referred to by name at all. And it wasn’t hard; I have my ways.”

“The same way you found my work phone number?”

“Exactly. You’re quick, Yoshi. That’s why I like you.”

Diavolo opened the box of bulbs. Kira’s eyes followed his hands; they were slender, with long fingers and smooth skin. Hands that hadn’t seen a day of hard labour in a long time, Kira figured. Aesthetically, they were perfect.

Kira forced himself not to stare. Live hands seldom intrigued him, but something about Diavolo’s seemed different. Perhaps it helped that he was an attractive man, even if his personality could be annoying and almost abrasive.

“Doppio said you liked me because I’m easy to control and watch over.” Kira said, to distract himself. He looked around the room, away from Diavolo’s working hands.

“Give yourself more credit. That’s only part of the reason.” Diavolo said. He placed another bulb on the tree. “You’re self-motivating, and handsome, too. I like surrounding myself with beautiful people.”

Kira sputtered on his tea. That wasn’t the response he was expecting. It left a mixed-feeling in Kira’s chest, wherein he felt pleased by the acknowledgement but also startled.

Diavolo looked back over his shoulder. “And look, you’re good with children, too. I took a chance on you with that, but I didn’t have many options today.” He smiled. “Work related business, you see.”

“I see,” Kira muttered, still processing this all. Deep down, Kira felt... Giddy. Excited, almost. He shouldn’t have, but he did. He couldn’t help it.

Little footsteps came running down the hall. Trish appeared in the living room door, having ditched her school uniform and winter clothes in favour of a princess play-dress.

“I wanna decorate the tree.” She said, intensely.

As if nothing had happened up until then, Diavolo nodded. “Go ahead. It’s all yours, sweetheart.”

Kira then sat there, quietly processing the entire interaction, while Diavolo helped Trish decorate the tree with sparkling, mis-matched ornaments.

—30—

December 24th

The phone rang. Thinking nothing of it, Kira pulled himself up from his seat and went to answer. He kept his eyes on his TV program the entire time.

“Hello, Kira residence.”

“Ah, so you are alone tonight.”

Kira pursed his lips. “Can I help you, Diavolo?”

“I want you to come over.”

“Right now? I’m in the middle of something.”

“You’re watching TV by yourself. Christmas is a time to spend with friends and family.”

Kira quirked a small smile. “Are we friends and family? Also, it’s considered rude here to spy on your neighbours.”

“Close your curtains next time. Are you coming?”

The TV shifted into a commercial. Kira turned towards the window instead; through a crack in Diavolo’s curtains, Kira spotted a sliver of pink hair peeking back at him.

“Why not come over here and ask me in person?” Kira inquired. He picked up the remote and flicked his TV off. “Or leave a letter under my door.”

“This does just as well, doesn’t it?” Diavolo shot back. His smirk could be heard through his tone. “I’ll see you shortly?”

Kira hummed. “I suppose.”

“Good.”

Life was certainly strange for Kira right now. He hung up the phone and slipped his shoes on instead. Over his shoulder, he casted a glance towards his girlfriend, sitting still on the table in front of the TV. Kira blew her a little kiss; he didn’t want her to become jealous, after all.

Snow blanketed the ground outside; it crunched under Kira’s shoes as he crossed the lawn to his neighbour’s home.

With Kira’s help earlier that week, Doppio had outfitted the porch and doorway with sparkling Christmas lights. They glittered and glowed as Kira knocked on the door.

Diavolo appeared almost instantly. He was dressed nicely in a dark button-up and matching pants.

“You could have just come in,” Diavolo said, stepping aside.

“It feels more professional to knock, I think.” Kira replied.

Diavolo smiled. “This is a professional visit?”

Kira quickly looked Diavolo up and down. “You’re dressed like it is.”

“I enjoy looking nice. And you look...” Diavolo stepped close, more into Kira’s space than Kira would allow from anyone else. He plucked the shoulder of Kira’s purple sweatshirt. “...Comfortable.”

Diavolo’s fingers only barely brushed Kira’s shoulder. A small shiver ran through him, unnoticed.

They stood close to each other for only a moment, before Diavolo took a half step back.

“Glass of wine?” He offered.

“I don’t drink, really.”

“It’s wine, Yoshi, not hard liquor. Children drink wine.” Diavolo said that as he slipped into the kitchen.

Kira followed him with his eyes and said, puzzled, “No, I don’t think they should.”

Diavolo laughed at that. Kira smiled to himself, pleased, as he went for the living room. He sat on the couch, facing towards the TV and the twinkling Christmas tree.

“Trish is asleep, I take it.” Kira said.

“Long asleep.” Diavolo replied, as he came into the room. He sat down beside Kira and stretched his arm across the back of the couch. His hand laid close to Kira’s shoulder; close enough that Kira almost felt its presence. “Waiting for Santa now.”

Kira nodded towards the plate sitting on the coffee table. “That explains the milk and cookies.”

“Trish insisted. I can’t stand sweets, so help yourself.” Diavolo sipped his wine, then said, “Maybe next year we can leave Santa a bottle of ‘92 vintage.”

Kira chuckled. Diavolo’s hand was in the very corner of his vision, close enough to touching him that it made Kira’s heart race. He tried to play it cool, though he had no doubt Diavolo knew exactly what he was doing.

Diavolo lifted his glass to his lips again. Kira glanced, then shifted his gaze between Diavolo’s perfectly painted black lips and how delicately he held the glass stem. Effortlessly. Kira wanted to stroke and hold Diavolo’s fingers the same way he held the glass.

“It’s not... Easy for me to make genuine connections with people,” Diavolo admitted. Kira quirked his brow with interest. “But meeting you... It’s been nice.”

“Meeting is a bit of a stretch,” Kira commented. Despite this, he still clung to every word Diavolo said. “Blackmail is more accurate.”

Diavolo waved his hand dismissively, dangerously close to Kira’s face.

“It still stands. I’m glad I met you, Kira Yoshikage. I feel like we’ve helped each other in a lot of different ways.”

Kira nodded his head. “You aren’t wrong, I suppose...”

Diavolo grinned. He raised his glass of wine and shifted ever-so closer to Kira.

“Here’s to another year of violent success for us,” Diavolo said.

Kira leaned forward and took the glass of milk left out. He raised that and clinked it against Diavolo’s.

“No pun intended, I hope.”

Amused, Diavolo drank. His lipstick left a black mark around the rim of the glass. Then, with a sigh, Diavolo leaned forward and set his glass down. When he came back, he gave Kira a cocky look.

“...Would you believe me if I said that there was a mistletoe above you?”

Kira scoffed with a smile. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Diavolo smirked. “Would asking for a kiss be out of place?”

Kira, amused, lowered his glass. Diavolo did the same. With a carefully practiced elegance, Kira swept up Diavolo’s hand in his own. He wrapped his fingers beneath the wrist, his thumb stroked the soft flesh there. Likewise, he felt Diavolo’s pulse pump.

“Not... Per se.” Kira sighed, his heart racing to hold such a warm hand. It was unusual, but in a new, exciting way. He brought Diavolo’s hand up to his lips and adorned it with a kiss.

Diavolo smiled. Kira smiled back.

#jjba secret santa 2020 #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #kiraboss #kiravolo #kira yoshikage #jjba diavolo #jjba doppio #trish una #this fic was brought to you by my butt buddy johnathan who wrote the ending while i got ready for work #and my partner who harassed me until i let them read it < 3

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xenoredux · 5 years ago

Text

Balto but its been rewritten 24 years after its release

Okay so here's the Balto rewrite lol. It's quite a bit different then The Actual Thing but the plot itself is much the same, as are the major beats of the story. I dropped a lotta goofy shit in there just because it made me laugh, but try and imagine this stuff happening as if it's from an actual 90s movie made by a studio on its last legs.

Some things to know going into it:

I cut out the live actions segments because they seriously didn't matter at all. Like, who cares. The plot is fine without them and I don't think that one line from Rosie at the end makes a huge difference. I guess it's nice to see the statue but even than it's like..... whatever

In my fantasy world, Balto was a standalone movie that didn't spark any sequels. Eventually I'll write out my version of the sequels if they'd actually been good, but in the universe of this rewrite for this film, a Balto "franchise" never existed, hence why the ending is sorta different

It's still a "historical" fiction that holds very little relation to the actual events. There's a touch more actual history in there, but c'mon. You're not reading talking dog movie fanfic to learn anything. Pick up a book if you care about the actual serum run and don't get on my juicy ass about it if some things remain inaccurate

Please also note that I didn't baby this as much as I should have, so some major plot elements that are kinda stupid are likely still in there (I'm not a good writer lbr). I don't believe this is necessarily "better" then the OG, I just tweaked some stuff that always pissed me off about it. I also re-included cut content I thought was more interesting and made more sense then what we ended up getting.

There's also a handful of fake screenshots throughout for shits and giggles, and I'll likely have at least one or two more to share later this month. Some links to past character designs are also provided for easy reference so you can make up scenes in your head but with Brand Spankin’ New Designz.

So here's Balto v2.0!

The year is 1925, and it's wintertime in Nome, Alaska. Two dogsled teams are participating in a race. A malamute named Steele leads his team against a powerful, but older and more experienced mutt named Wild Joe. Steele, despite being a decorated and much beloved champion lead dog, is a massive dick, and he snaps at a critical moment at one of Joe's teammates. Joe's team wipes out, his chances of winning are in shambles, and Steele is waaay in the lead.

A flare is shot into the air to let the enthused waiting townsfolk know that Steele's team has passed the race's 3 mile mark. Meanwhile, watching from his perch on the balcony of a house, a wolfdog named Balto excitedly bounds back and forth, unable to contain his excitement. He simply cannot sit still despite the protests of his closest friend Boris, an old Russian-Jewish goose who isn't a fan of all the excitement. Balto drags Boris around the roofs of the houses, ignoring his chiding all the while, until he can see the finish line of the race.

Back down on Earth, a young girl named Rosie is inside a woodworker's shop. She's receiving a gift she adores: a beautiful handmade sled, perfectly fitted to her size. The sled includes a harness in front that also perfectly fits her dog, a purebred copper Siberian husky named Jenna. Rosie's parents playfully lecture her to not lose the sled like she loses her other belongings. Almost as quickly as she receives the sled, Rosie and Jenna are trotting down the street in their new getup.

Jenna comes to rest in the race's sidelines among a group of other female dogs. The smallest of them all, a Pomeranian named Dixie, chides Jenna for allowing herself to be made a sled dog, even if it is in the spirit of make believe. After all, a canine of her slender frame and social standing shouldn't be performing manual labor. Jenna sighs at her friend's internalized misogyny and eugenics talk, rolling her eyes as if to say "oh you!"

Nor should someone of her persuasion be meeting up with any strays, Dixie continues while going on to show her racist side, for Balto and Boris have just plodded up to the group. The other girls scoff and huff at Balto's arrival, but Jenna and Rosie both are glad to see him. Rosie gives the wolfdog a hug, telling him to keep outta sight of The Parental Units. Just then, Steele's team rounds the corner, and Rosie waves her hat at them as if it's a foam finger and this is the most arduous baseball game in history. A sudden gust of wind picks up her hat and sweeps it into the path of the oncoming team. Rosie begins to panic and, while Jenna soothes her, Balto runs out alongside the advancing sled team to retrieve it.

Balto manages to snag and deliver the hat before Steele passes the finish line, which visibly upsets Steele. His owner speaks to the man who leads Wild Joe's team. He seems unimpressed with Steele's performance, enough so that Wild Joe's owner admits it's likely time that Joe was retired. The two imply that if a sled dog can't even outrun Steele, it's time for him to hang up his harness, even if he is wearing a bitchin' little number they speak in awe of called "A Golden Collar", a veritable necklace of medals awarded to sled dogs who have proven they don't suck. As one can imagine, this pisses Steele off something fierce. He gazes into the reflection of his face in his own golden collar, getting a bit of anger-saliva on it in the process.

The important thing, of course, is that Balto managed to save Rosie's hat. Jenna thanks him and playfully teases him about how nuts he'd have to be to do something like run alongside a car made of dogs, to which the quiet Balto just smiles. Rosie's dad isn't smiling very much, though, because all he saw was the town's favorite punching bag running wild with his daughter's hat. He swears at Balto and kicks snow his way, spooking him into running off down the street. Rosie's dad herds his child away, scolding her for playing with wild animals, while Jenna tries to follow her friend. Unable to recognize where he's not wanted, Steele blocks Jenna's path and starts flexing about his elite gamer/sledding skills. The other girl dogs can barely contain their ovaries around him, but Jenna just politely excuses herself as Steele begins spouting off insensitive remarks about "the howler from the cannery".

But Balto's not going home just yet. He knows exactly how to navigate the neighborhood and find his companion. Boris complains about the cold and how much he's walked around today, so he pisses off back to to their place. Balto simply shrugs and wanders until he finds Jenna again. He trails behind her, hiding in various places along the street as Jenna follows her masters home. Jenna talks passionately about how she'd love to do something big and hella just to show up guys like Steele. Balto encouragingly comments on how he's sure she'd be the best at whatever she did, and she smiles at him in a particularly heterosexual way.

Eventually the two part ways, and Balto decides it's time to go home. As he trots along, he notices a glove that Rosie dropped. He smiles and rolls his eyes as he picks it up and turns to head to Jenna's and give it back. Unfortunately for him, Steele's ego bruises like a banana and heals just about as well, so the meat-headed malamute has dragged along his team to harass the town's token minority once he was alone. The only dog on the team who seems against harassing someone for something they can't control is Star, Steele's smaller, weaker, more cowardly little brother. Steele jeers at Star for being too much of a puss to participate in the g-rated hate crime before rolling a barrel in Balto's direction. Balto's bowled over by it and falls face first into a bucket.

Steele's team howls with laughter, then literally howls in an effort to insult Balto. The words "howler" and "feral" are thrown around a lot as Balto struggles to free his face from the pail. He never manages to, and before Steele can harass him some more, his musher calls out for him and the rest of the team. Steele calls his men to his side and makes his way out. The only one who trails behind is Star, who gingerly pops the bucket off of Balto's head. The two stare wordlessly at each other for a moment, the stunned Balto dwarfing the underdeveloped Star, before Star gets too scared to stay any longer and books it. Balto looks around himself for Rosie's mitten, but he can't find it. He sighs and begins heading towards the harbor.

As Balto walks through the cannery, the other stray and unloved dogs take notice of him and begin jeering at him. Despite how pitiful-looking they are, almost all of them feel the need to tell Balto in livid detail about just how shit he is in comparison because of his wolf heritage. Those who don't jeer hateful words hole up and hide from him as he passes them by.

Boris takes notice of Balto returning home, and he goes to wave to him with his one good wing before noticing something peculiar on the hill by the shoreline: wolves! A small pack of wolves take notice of Balto. They even begin howling to him. It's clear that they're inviting him to join their DnD party, and for a tense moment Boris is afraid Balto will run after them. But Balto simply shrinks away, shaking his head. His shoulders slump and he makes his way to the wrecked boat he and Boris live on.

Boris attempts to cheer Balto up with some wAcKy SlApStIcK cOmEdY before having to realize that harming himself is increasingly silly ways will not cure Balto's bigotry induced depression. He slumps against Balto as the two notice a flock of geese flying overhead. Balto asks Boris what it was like in "the old country", and Boris soothes in the most Russian voice ever conceived what are likely concerns he's heard many times before by assuring Balto he came to Alaska for good reason because the old country sucked. He also assures Balto that the busted wing he has was the best thing that ever happened to him, because it meant he got to live in Nome and find that lonely wolfdog kid those several years back. Balto can't help but crack a smile.

When the sun has gone down, Balto begins to leave the hovel he calls home. Boris reminds him to be careful on his nightly excursion to find food, to which Balto merely smiles and nods. He pads past the sleeping cannery dogs and back towards town.

Meanwhile, Jenna is sitting outside of the hospital doorway. She watches as her masters lead Rosie inside. Rosie's gotten a nasty cough, and she makes an odd wheezing noise when she breathes. As mom and pop speak to the very busy doctor, Rosie gazes out the window at Jenna, waving and smiling at her. Jenna stands up excitedly, but feels her heart sink into her stomach as Rosie has the sort of coughing fit a Flintstone's chewable can't fix. Her parents come to lead her away from the window. Jenna tries her damnedest to find a way to peer inside from around the back. There is a window, but she's unable to reach it, even as she's standing on her hind legs.

Balto, dirty from digging around in garbage, spots Jenna's vibrant red coat from across the way. He calls out to her softly, and though she does acknowledge his greeting, she barely responds. This concerns Balto, and he comes to join her under the window. She explains that she wants to see in, and Balto allows her to climb up and stand on his back to do so. She obliges, too worried about Rosie's well-being to thank him, and gazes longingly inside.

She climbs down from Balto a beat later, saying how she wishes she could understand what was happening in there. Most of what went on was just the doctor talking. Balto pauses and thinks for a moment, and then tells Jenna he has an idea. He leads her around to the boiler room placed adjunct to the hospital where the doctor's dog, a St. Bernard appropriately named Doc, spends his nights. The two make their way inside.

Doc is in fact there, snoring like a buzz-saw on crack. Balto gently wakes him up, and at first he's both annoyed to be woken and offput by The Wolfdog being in his face, but when Jenna explains the situation to him he becomes much more amiable. He leads the two over to the crawlspace under the hospital, stating there's far too much of him to love to allow him to fit under with them. Balto and Jenna thank him and go inside.

The two creep through the creepy underside of the hospital until they find themselves under a grate beneath the doctor's desk. The doctor discusses with the nurses how the children of Nome have diphtheria, a fast acting, aggressive disease that causes fatal epidemics. The anti-toxin he was able to treat the first few cases with has run out, and without it, all infected children will surely die within two weeks' time.

Jenna is unsurprisingly distraught at the idea of her favorite person on the planet dying a slow, painful death, so she scrambles out of the crawlspace and begins crying. Balto follows close behind her to see that Doc has already begun to comfort her. He apologizes for bringing Jenna here, to which Jenna states she's glad he did. Aside from Jenna's gentle sobbing, all is silent for a moment. Suddenly, a loud crash can be heard outside. Everyone turns to see Steele and his dogs have come back to ruin another scene. Doc becomes upset at the sudden influx of uninvited guests crowding up his personal space, so he goes to alert the doctor and get them all the fuck outta there. Meanwhile, the team menaces Balto while Steele tries to impress Jenna by pulling Rosie's missing mitten out of his collar. He offers to walk Jenna home to deliver it to her family as the team, lead by a pitifully unintimidating Star, back a snarling Balto into the corner.

Jenna's obviously not interested in Dog Gaston's posturing, but she's also got an IQ higher then 6 and understands that he's not going to go away simply because she asks him to. As Balto watches from out the corner of his eye, Jenna flirtatiously backs Steele into the glowing red boiler. She mutters something about meatballs under her breath as Steele begins to howl and shriek in pain. The smell of burning dog ass and the cries of a defeated jock archetype alert people to the scene, and all the dogs begin to scatter. Balto and Jenna try to join the reverse flash mob, but Steele flings himself hard into Balto and forces all of them to stumble. Lanterns shine in the literal dogpile's direction. Steele refuses to get off of Balto, so Balto insists that Jenna get away. She forgets about Rosie's mitten, which Balto snags to keep away from Steele's posturing self, and the men finally descend upon the dogs.

Someone pulls Steele off of Balto, and he begins making as if he's injured, intentionally limping and stumbling melodramatically around. The men start to make a fuss about the wolfdog injuring the town's best runner when one of them, Rosie's dad, notices his daughter's missing mitten in Balto's mouth. He begins yelling and kicking at the dog, going on about how he's dangerous and he'd better not go anywhere near his child ever again. Balto tucks tail and barrels out of town, and all the men stroke a miraculously healed Steele to compensate for the trauma of being attacked by a dog half his size.

As Balto pounds pavement, he passes the telegraph office, wherein an important message is being sent. A request for more anti-toxin to treat the epidemic is being relayed, and in it are the details of why this situation is uniquely urgent: the Alaskan winter is doing its worst, bringing blizzards severe enough that ships and planes alike cannot manage to deliver the medicine. Nome's best bet becomes obvious: use a train to deliver the medicine as closely to Nome as they can, then set up relay teams of sled dogs to receive and deliver the anti-toxin.

The morning after the message has been sent, the town organizes a race to test which dogs in town have the highest stats in stamina, speed, and agility. Almost every husky in town is lined up to race... all except a very upset Jenna, who keeps insisting the other dogs make room for her. Some dogs look at her with concern. Others laugh. But most of them seem convinced that her place is here in Nome, keeping her people company and not chipping any of her nails. Dixie tries to lead Jenna away from the race, but Jenna's so pissed that she angrily stomps away from the race altogether.

Balto, who has been hiding around town this whole time, slips out of the shadows to meet her. She vents loudly to him about being disallowed to participate because of the snot-nosed chauvinists running the race. If Balto didn't know the depth of her conviction before, he certainly does now; she begins to cry angry tears over what will happen to Rosie.

Balto can't stand to see a grown womandog cry, but he's worried about what will happen if he tries to line up with the other dogs. Everyone believes he attacked Steele, after all. Nobody would tolerate him joining the race... at least, not while they're all there. He wordlessly slips away from Jenna, assuring her he has a plan. In a moment he's disappeared. The race is about to start, and Boris has hobbled into town. He goes over to Jenna and begins complaining about how Balto didn't come home last night. Jenna tells him it's a long story, but that she's sure he'll turn up again soon. Maybe. Hopefully.

The starting gun is fired off, and the dogs take off with the speed and accuracy of drunken Nascar drivers. Just as soon as they've all bolted, Balto boltos past the starting line right in tow, which causes some reasonable upset among the crowd given word of Steele's definitely-real-not-made-up scuffle with the wolfdog has spread fast.

Despite the jeering Balto is faced with, he continues on. By this point, Jenna and Boris have noticed him running, and they begin to cheer him on as they scramble to keep up with him. Turns out wolves and their relatives are pretty fast.

In contrast to the other dogs, Balto's saving grace isn't just his speed, but his ingenuity. Balto breaks off of the track as he begins advancing on the dogs in an effort to avoid their snarling and snapping at him. He shows his cleverness by traversing obstacles like frozen ponds, hanging pulleys, and crumbling wooden beams that bridge buildings, all while maintaining pace with the other dogs. Any townsfolk who are capable of seeing him are too impressed with his abilities to remember his alleged attempted dogmurder.

To the surprise of literally nobody reading this, Balto manages to cross the finish line before anybody else, which includes an especially tilted Steele. Unexpectedly, several townsfolk cheer for our parkour-loving protagonist, and Balto's face lights up in pleasure, having never experienced praise from basically any human person.

Steele and Wild Joe's mushers come around to give Balto the once over, discussing how he'd be an invaluable asset to any team. Joe's musher believes he'd made a good replacement for Joe now that that dog's been laid off of his animaljob. Balto ingratiates his coy self with a gentle tail wag, and Steele has literally never been more angry in his life. His ego as sore as a freshly kicked-in face, Steele looks around for some way to prove Balto is totes nasty. A toothy grin spreads across his face as he spots Jenna leading a hobbling Boris over, and he quickly rushes the goose and snags him up, carrying him away.

Balto doesn't like seeing his surrogate feathered father being doghandled, so he snarls and chases after Steele, startling the men. The men follow Balto, who is following Steele, who is following his own evil agenda. Steele tosses Boris off the nearby harbor, and the bird struggles to collect himself in the icy water. Balto rushes Steele, still snarling. This spooks Steele's musher, and he begins throwing rocks at Balto. The man tells the wolfdog to stay away from his animal, and he states to Wild Joe's musher why Balto would be useless as a sled dog: he can't manage to get along with other canines. He's too wild. The two men collect Steele and depart as Balto similarly collects Boris, who is little more then a honking popsicle by now.

As Balto begins carrying Boris home, Jenna stops him and asks what happened. Balto gruffly states that Jenna's master would be angry to see her speaking to him. After all, he doesn't get along with other dogs given how wild he is. Jenna is so surprised by her friend lashing out at her that she can't speak, and she watches solemnly and wordlessly as Balto and Boris make like Rosie's health and disappear.

That night, the relay teams are being dispatched. The electric cross hanging on the church steeple is turned on - the pastor says that so long as there's hope for the children, the light will stay lit and the electric bill will stay high - and a handful of teams are sent out, including Steele's. The sick children watch from inside the hospital. Jenna watches from her new favorite spot just under one of the hospital's front windows, her face contorted in worry. From his ship, Balto ignores Boris's cacophanic snoring as he watches the teams head out. He gives a sigh.

A day passes as the relay teams power through the awful weather. Steele's team receives the medicine from another team who just had it delivered to them by train. Now Steele's gang is intended to deliver the medicine once again to the team of a dog named Togo. Unfortunately, Steele's unwarranted self-importance prevents this, as he dislikes the idea of not being the guy to deliver the goods to town. He tells Star that he doesn't need to follow the rules of the relay - he knows the way home and he can do this himself. He intentionally ignores the path to Togo and drags his team helplessly onward, and none of them but Star are any the wiser.

The governor's dog calls a meeting in the boiler room for all the other dogs in town. It's been longer then the townsfolk expected it to take for the meds to arrive, and everyone is getting ants in their collective pants. Balto watches the meeting from outside a window to maintain some discreetness. Doc tries to calm everybody down once they begin panicking, but they're all too much in a tizzy thinking about what will happen to the kids to hear him. Suddenly, the rabbling of the crowd is halted when a sharp, reverberating bark cuts through the noise. Everyone turns to the door.

In the doorframe stands the tall, bulky silhouette of an unknown beefcake. The dog steps into the light, and Wild Joe finally announces his presence verbally and not just cinematically. He informs the dogs that he's had a lot of time to wander since being unharnessed, and tonight he wandered by the telegraph office. He's a gifted enough fella to understand Morse code and the hopeless sighs of an old man sending 1800s text messages, and he informs the dogs that Steele's team broke the relay chain. Nobody knows where they are, which means, more importantly, nobody knows where the medicine is. Wild Joe suggests that the dogs make peace with the passing of their childfolk before he steps back outside and disappears into the snowy night.

Whatever the dogs inside the boiler room are saying, Balto can't hear it. Not just because their voices are drowning each other out, but because he's stricken with too much grief to care. Rosie has only been getting worse. What's going to happen to her?

Meanwhile in the hospital, the doctor is managing as well as one can to explain to the parents of the sick children that their one hope of salvation may or may not be lost to the elements forever. This barely registers with the horribly ill Rosie who, despite being in the same room as a doctor forcing her parents to confront her mortality, is now too sick to lift her head from her pillow. In an effort to afford their child a sliver of comfort, Rosie's folks allows Jenna into her room. Jenna pads loyally over to her girl, and for just a second Rosie's eyes flutter open. "Jenna?" is all she can manage to wheeze out before passing back into unconsciousness. Jenna gloomily rests her head on her owner's chest, whimpering softly.

Balto pads through town. Nobody is really out at night anymore. They're all crowding the hospital to keep close to their children. Balto's main goal is to find Jenna, to discuss this horrible thing with her, but he's distracted as he passes by the woodworker's shop. The same jolly man who had made Rosie her bitchin' new sled was now hunched sadly over a new, much less bitchin', much more morbid project: tiny coffins, each no bigger then 4 feet tall. A small collection of them has formed in a corner of the room. Balto shakes his head and gasps, breaking out of a stupor he was not previously aware he was in. Something has to be done.

The morning sun is peaking out over the horizon when Balto begins to depart from his home. He trots down from the harbor and along the shoreline, aiming to enter the forest the teams left through. Boris is plodding behind him, slipping around on frozen patches of sea water and flopping around in puddles of slush. He's going on and on, trying desperately to convince Balto not to waste his efforts on a town of people who'd be perfectly happy if he were dead. Balto doesn't reply, instead flashing Boris a solemn look. His eyes light up with new intention, and he grabs Boris by the beak, dragging him along as the old goose honks angrily.

Balto releases Boris as the two come to the back of the hospital. Jenna, who had once again settled out front, hears the commotion of the intensely pissed off bird wailing and honking. Balto wordlessly releases Boris, and just before Boris can complain further, Jenna comes over to the two. She and Balto share one miserable, knowing look before Jenna begins to cry. She presses her face into Balto's neck, weeping softly into his fur. Another child is herded into the hospital by a concerned parent. The girl wheezes and shakes violently as the door closes behind her. Boris looks on, all anger having subsided.

Instead, he says in a very business-like tone that Balto needs to hurry up if he's going to find the lost team. And he shouldn't keep Boris waiting. Boris is an old man who hates waiting more then he hates traveling. Boris begins to waddle off back towards the forest, and Balto can't help but smile. Jenna presses the pause button on crying long enough to ask what Boris means, to which Balto states that neither he nor his old man can stand idly by any longer.

Jenna understands, and she insists that the two allow her to come with them. It pains her to leave Rosie, but the child is barely ever awake at this point, and inaction won't make the situation better. Balto's smile grows wider, and the three take off to find the missing team themselves.

Hours pass. The three haven't ceased their journey, nor does it seem they've given up hope. Boris certainly has got a lot to bitch about, though. And he does this loudly and frequently as Balto and Jenna lead the way, exchanging words. Jenna vents about how it's ludicrous that Steele, a gloryhound who loves the smell of his own farts, was even selected to do the relay given how hard he is to handle. Balto agrees, if a bit softly. Jenna interrogates him gingerly, asking what happened the day of the race. Balto admits that the townsfolk have gone even more sour on him as of late, and that he's been genuinely afraid to be around anybody now... except for Jenna, of course. Jenna reassures him with the same viciously heterosexual smile as before that she'll stand by him no matter what. Balto can't help but smile back.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the frozen over Hell that is Alaska, Steele is blindly trying to redirect his team onto the trail, but the trail has long gone from his sight. Star, exhausted and growing antsier by the minute, suggests turning around and going back; it's totally obvious now that they're lost. Steele buckles for just a moment before snapping at his brother about how he knows where he's going and, having just told the worst lie in history, begins running directionlessly through the blizzard.

Expectedly, this sends his team careening down into a gully he failed to notice on account of the whole reduced visibility thing. The sled tips over - though it seems the anti-toxin is still secured and unbroken - the musher falls out and hits his head on a rock, and the dogs tumble into a heap. Some of them are bruised. Some of them are worse. But nobody is dead, not even the flame dancing inside the musher's lantern. The only thing that looks dead is Steele's spirit. He stares wide eyed and panting as he realizes the team truly is lost. "What are we gonna do now, Steele?" Star asks hopelessly. Steele doesn't respond.

Night has fallen. It's cold as shit out in the forest, but the three musketeers haven't ceased their journeying yet. Boris, effectively feeding into every stereotype about old men ever, complains about how long this road trip has lasted. Neither Balto nor Jenna have the energy left to respond to him, so they don't. Boris gets huffy and says the kids can keep going if they want, but it's time for him to sleep. He decides to set up a nest on a large snowdrift, and Balto finally gets frustrated and turns to explain to Boris that there's no time to stop now. And then the snowdrift stands up.

A polar bear, hulking and powerful, is standing on its hind legs in front of the dogs. A screaming Russian goose is flapping around on the crown of its head, and the bear immediately begins trying to attack its winged hat. Balto leaps to his grandhonk's rescue, but the bear lands an easy hit on him and sends him flying. The goose isn't nearly as threatening as the wolfdog, so the bear turns to Balto, ready to tear him to pieces.

This understandably displeases Jenna, and she flings herself headlong into the bear to save her friends. She's more lithe and agile then Balto is, which makes it easy for her to dodge most of the bear's swings, but she's not as quick as Balto is, so she still ends up taking a pretty nasty blow to the legs. She flies across the forest floor and strikes Boris, knocking them both to the ground. Meanwhile, Balto's trying to deal with the bear situation on his own. He's not doing so hot, though, as the bear makes like a 90s sitcom bully and starts wailing on him. This sends Balto careening down a hill and across a frozen lake.

The bear quickly follows him. It doesn't seem to notice the ice below it cracking like splintering glass as it walks towards Balto, but Balto sure as hell does. And so do Jenna and Boris, who, despite their injuries, are scrambling to reach Balto before the ice gives. But they're too little too late. The bear takes another step and the busted ice snap crackle pops apart, taking the bear under as it shatters. Balto stumbles away from the gaping icehole that's growing larger and larger.

The bear is thrashing wildly around, foaming up the water and swinging its claws around in the air. Boris thinks fast and grabs Jenna's bandanna to toss out to Balto. As the bear struggles to grab both Balto and the edge of the ice, Balto snags hold of the bandanna and hangs on as his friends drag him from the freezing water. As Balto collapses to the ground, the bear's struggles begin to subside, and finally it drowns.

Balto is badly shaken, but ultimately unharmed. Jenna, however, bit total shit, and now that Balto is safe her strength has left her. Balto and Boris drag Jenna off the lake and lay her down. Balto lays down beside her, shivering hard from his time in the water. Without thinking about it, Jenna pulls herself on top of him, murmuring about how cold he is. Balto tries to argue she should go easy given her injury, but the two go silent instead, smiling gently at each other. Then Balto's eyes light up as he turns to Boris. He thanks the bird for not just saving him, but for coming along in the first place. Boris absolutely beams.

But his grin disappears when the dogs get up... and Jenna falls back down. Balto insists she's too hurt to continue the journey. After all, who knows when they'll find the team? Jenna tries to argue, but falters when Balto insists that without her help he'd be dead now, and he'd be devastated if something happened to her out here. Jenna asks Boris to take her back to Nome when she notices that he's waddled a short distance away. He's gazing intently at something, looking worried and guilty. Balto pads over to where Boris is staring into space to see what the fuss is about.

Turns out the fuss is about two hairy little things: twin polar bear cubs. One is slightly bigger then the other, though he may just be bigger boned then his brother. The two are huddled close to each other, whimpering and cooing. It's obvious they're very young, toddlers at most. "Oh no," murmurs Balto. The cubs gaze up at the two with wide, frightened eyes. Nobody has to guess what happened to their mother, and Balto feels himself overwhelmed with guilt too.

The cubs follow Boris closely as Balto goes back to Jenna. He tells her that he's sorry she can't continue the journey, but that she can help by keeping the bear cubs safe until they know what to do with them. Jenna agrees and the two smile warmly at each other. Jenna offers up her bandanna to Balto "to keep him warm" despite how small it is as Boris helps her onto a large tree branch. Boris begins instructing the cubs on how to help, going demanding grandad on them in record time, and Jenna wishes Balto good luck. Boris pulls Balto aside and, out of obligation to the source material, tells Balto that a dog cannot make such a journey alone... but maybe a wolf can. The group depart, leaving Balto by himself in the snow.

It's a snowy night in Nome. A somber mood hangs so thickly in the air that one can almost taste the chunky sadness. The streets are empty aside from one stray black mass. It's Wild Joe, makin' his way downtown. He passes the hospital and sees a child who is obviously ill but not in bed. Joe's face crinkles in pain as the child, a boy, coughs so hard he wracks his body in great tremors. Joe pulls himself away from the sight and, face to the ground, starts walking faster. In a moment he passes the telegraph office. His ears perk rhythmically to the beeps of the morse code. He whispers sweet nothings to himself like, "Cannot send more antitoxin. Weather too severe. Lost sled team only hope. Our prayers are with them."

Meanwhile, in a somehow less depressing part of the Alaskan tundra, Balto has finally caught sight of a glowing pink light. The wind is too hard for him to smell properly, but as he mounts a rise in the path, he can see clearly what rests at the bottom of the slope. It's the team! The pink glow is the light from the sled's lantern. Balto's so beside himself with joy that he throws himself headlong down the slope, previously unaware of how slippery the embankment really was. He only just manages to gain his footing at the bottom of the hill. The sled dogs look up at him in amazement, unfurling themselves from the miserable balls of fur they'd tried desperately to wrap themselves in. "Balto!" is heard in a wave of gasps.

Balto begins asking a slew of questions. What happened, is the musher okay, etc. etc. Everyone does their best to answer. Everyone, that is, except Steele, who has been sulking wordlessly since Balto arrived. Once he's gotten a satisfactory amount of info on the situation, Balto picks up one of the now empty harnesses on the sled and tells the dogs he can lead them home. Steele is none too pleased with this, and he steps on the harness, jerking it out of Balto's mouth. Steele insists the dogs will be able to find their way home by themselves - after all, he's leading them.

Everyone immediately becomes uncomfortable as the tension rises. Balto shrugs, assures Steele that he can do as he likes, but that the kids need the anti-toxin and they need it now. Balto knows the way back for certain, so he'd be happy to just take the medicine. Steele just about goes batshit at the suggestion, crouching over the crate of medicine like a wild animal, snarling at Balto. He threatens to rip Balto to pieces if he so much as tries to touch the crate. Someone tells Steele to lighten up, and Steele just about shits himself.

He flings himself headlong into Balto, telling him to get out and leave them be. In the scuffle, the medicine crate is tipped over, where it begins sliding down a tiny incline towards a cliff's edge. Balto eyes it nervously and tries to get to it, but Steele continually throws himself at Balto, snapping and snarling and threatening. The other dogs begin telling Steele to stop, that Balto isn't worth it. Star suggests that maybe just this once the howler might be useful, so the team might want to listen to him. Balto looks Steele dead in the eyes and tells him that children are going to die if everyone can't be all kumbaya for a second.

Steele sneers eerily and simple states that he doesn't care. And with that, he outright flings himself into Balto, tearing into him viciously enough to send him whimpering in pain. The fight halts for just a moment as Steele looks down at the wolfdog, who is now battered and bleeding. Steeles give a triumphant huff and bares his fangs before he notices something. The other dogs are advancing on him. They've stopped their gawking long enough to realize that Steele's intentions haven't just soured. They were never good in the first place. The medicine crate continues its gradual trip down the incline.

Steele is spooked by the dogs encircling him, and he demands they get away from him and back into their harnesses. Meanwhile, Balto, despite his injuries, has wormed his way over to the escaping crate of anti-death juice, finally securing it between his paws. Star turns and notices this, praising him. The other dogs gaze over at him too, finally realizing he's probably an okay guy actually. If Steele was angry before, he's furious now. He leaps over the hoard of dogs that had formed a tight circle around him and barrels at Balto and the medicine, screaming for the wolfdog to let it go. Balto quickly shoves the medicine away from the cliff as Steele snags him by the bandanna. The two dogs teeter totter on the side of the cliff before the bandanna rips in half. Steele unceremoniously falls off the cliff's edge, tumbling down into the valley below.

Balto cringes at the sight as Steele refuses to get up from his epic fail landing. Still, there's no time to lose. Balto hobbles over to the sled, surprised to find the other dogs are securing themselves in their harnesses. All except three, that is. One dog, a Chinook by the name of Kaltag, notices an especially icky wound on Balto's leg, and he uses what remains of Jenna's bandanna to wrap it. Another dog, a chow mix named Nikki, is placing the musher in the sled. The man's in rough shape, but he's still alive. Finally Balto takes his place at the head of the team, where Star is holding the harness up for him. Balto slips into it, and it fits like a glove. He takes a moment to breathe and marvel at the situation.

The dog sled takes off again. As it departs, a couple of white paws grapple their way up the cliff's edge. Steele hoists himself out of the valley. He's bruised all over, but he's alive, and he's none too happy. He wastes no time. He tucks the remains of Jenna's bandanna into his collar and begins rushing after the dogs. The guy may be bulky and injured, but he's full of enough rage adrenaline (ragedrenaline?) to overpower an elephant's higher thinking, and he's not slowing down til the sled has stopped.

It doesn't take long for Steele to catch up to Balto. He tells Balto to stop the sled and leave the team alone, but Balto insists Steele doesn't know the way. The other dogs all but tell Steele to fuck off given they've seen what kind of person he is, but Steele doesn't care. He pulls out a handy dandy trick he's been itching to repeat since the beginning of this summary and snaps at Balto's legs, tripping him up. Balto regains his footing quickly enough so as not to slow down the team, but oh no! A moment later, Steele snaps again, this time grabbing Balto's injured ankle.

The wolfdog can't recover so easily from that, and he falls over. The team goes tripping and spilling across the icy forest floor. Steele allows himself to fall behind and watch the destruction unfold. The team is barreling towards another cliff's edge, and Balto's meager frame isn't enough to cancel out the laws of inertia. Balto slides out of his harness as the other dogs try to stall their descent, finally bringing everything to a standstill as the crate of medicine teeters on the cliff's edge.

Balto dives forward and snags the crate, and the team praises him... seconds before the cliff's edge starts to crumble. As the rock breaks to pieces beneath his feet, Balto and the antitoxin fall into the snowy abyss below. "Aaaaaa," is how Kevin Bacon put it.

The next morning, everyone is abuzz is Nome. The people even pull themselves away from their sick kids in the excitement, curious to see what's happening. Something has arrived, though it's not the medicine. The dogs are equally riveted, huddled in the boiler room to discuss their own canine-centric news. Turns out Jenna returned home the previous night, aided by two polar bear cubs and a goose. The dogs prattle on excitedly, asking a weary Jenna all about her journey. But, in all honesty, they seem most concerned with how - and further, why - Jenna would ever be brave or foolish enough to pair with a howler while on a wild goose/dog/plot chase.

Jenna tiredly begins to explain what happened, why the goose and bears were there, etc. when a ruckus can be heard outside. The dogs all look up, but nobody gets up. Not yet. A few moments pass, and then the door, which has been only halfway open up to this point, swings open in full. Standing in the doorway is Togo's team, along with an exhausted looking Steele. Togo remarks that they found the dumb jock wandering delirious through the cold. He was just lucky enough to meander past their relay station. Togo shrugs and leaves the room.

Everyone immediately starts flipping shit again, asking a new flurry of questions so loudly they drown each other out. Finally, Steele breaks the silence by asking "Where's Jenna?" Everyone goes quiet and looks over at the token girl husky. Steele pads over to the middle of the room, looking at Jenna but speaking to everyone, as he explains in a voice so sincere it's sickening that his team died in the cold. Balto did in fact find him, the last dog alive, but all he cared about was taking the anti-toxin away. Balto never meant well, Steele asserts, his chest heaving with every passionate word. All he wanted to do was get back at the town for turning its back on him! Everyone gasps except Jenna and a stoic figure sitting in the corner of the room.

Steele says that Balto took the anti-toxin and, in a desperate effort to get revenge on Nome for never accepting his boorish, violent ways, threw it and himself over the edge of a cliff. The medicine, and presumably every bone in the wolfdog's body, shattered on impact. Why, Steele even tried heroically to stop Balto from this suicide mission by grabbing him by Jenna's bandanna, but... He punctuates his speech by handing Jenna the remains of her neckerchief. She gapes at it.

Steele says that this has been a tragedy for certain, but all the dogs must band together and be strong. Heck, he even generously offers to be a shoulder for Jenna to cry on in her time of need. Such a noble guy, that Steele. Except Jenna has a finely tuned 6th sense she uses solely to detect bullshit, and it's going crazy right now. She tells Steele to his face that she knows he's lying. Balto isn't violent. In fact, the primary reason he left to find the team was to save the children. To save Rosie.

The dogs in the crowd begin to murmur among themselves, but Steele casually states that it's such a shame the wolfdog managed to manipulate Jenna so efficiently that she honestly never saw him going feral, never considered his more selfish motives. Steele reminds the room of dogs that Balto attacked him several times before the relay teams were dispatched. Everyone seems a bit swayed by the reminder.

Everyone's trains of thoughts are prevented from actually leaving the station by the dog in the corner clearing his throat. Surprise surprise, the mysterious guy in the shadows was Wild Joe, resident lurker. Steele almost looks intimidated as the dog pads over to him. Joe basically goes off on Steele, detailing how it's hard to believe a dog who has proven himself violent for the sake of winning, is mysteriously the only dog out of about 15 to survive, and thinks himself a hero despite failing to bring back even one ounce of medicine. Everyone is silent as Joe and Steele glare daggers at each other.

Steele huffs at Joe and leaves the room, stating that he won't be insulted this way after having had such a traumatic experience. The dogs watch Steele go, then look at Joe and Jenna, then awkwardly begin to file out. There's nothing else of importance to be said, and damn has it gotten awkward in here.

When the two are alone, Jenna quietly thanks Joe for believing her. Joe snorts and states that he knows what Steele is like and he knows when he's lying. Then Joe tells Jenna plainly that he doesn't have much hope of the anti-toxin arriving, and that even if it did it's too late for his fallen boy. Taken aback at the realization, Jenna expresses sympathy for Joe, but encourages him to keep his chin up. Balto is a dependable dog who won't let the town down, because despite everything he's faced, he understands how important this is. Joe smiles for probably the first time in 50 years, then asks Jenna where the goose and bears she mentioned went.

That night, the electric cross on the church steeple turns off. Rosie's mother notices this from the hospital window, and her husband hopelessly wraps her in a hug. Rosie's condition continues to worsen.

While this is happening, Jenna abandons her post under the hospital window and leads Wild Joe to Balto's boat. Some of the dogs at the cannery ogle Jenna, but Joe sets them straight with a well directed glare and a scolding about the male gaze. Boris and the bear cubs are understandably shaken when they are met with a sentient hunk of muscle, but Jenna assures them that Joe is a friend. Joe makes himself comfortable in Balto's home and asks the goose if he can wait for Balto to come back with him. The two cubs remain anxious around the old dog, who playfully teases them by asking if they think he's gonna turn them into mukluks.

As all this is going on, miles away at the previously mentioned snowy abyss, the snow in the depths of the gorge begins to shift. In a few labored, measured movements, Balto manages to pull himself from the snowbank. He collapses exhausted back into the snow, realizing how dire the situation has truly become. God only knows where the medicine has fallen, let alone whether or not it's shattered. "Kids... Rosie... I'm sorry," is all he can manage to mouth as he begins to weep.

Soundlessly, a large mass moves across the snowy terrain towards him. The world is a void of white, and the figure is too, but when he looks up, Balto can just make out the dark features of a canine face. A majestic white wolf, large enough to dwarf any dog, is gazing down at him with vibrant amber eyes. The wolf howls, then pauses as if waiting for Balto to respond. He doesn't, instead shrinking away in embarrassment. The wolf gives him a strange look, then gazes past him for a moment, then finally withdraws, quickly disappearing from view.

Balto allows his eyes to wander. Suddenly, those wandering eyes widen. The medicine. It's sitting unharmed no more then 10 feet away. And after offering the cliffside its own glance, he believes it might be possible to get it back up.

Balto rises slowly but surely to his feet. He eyes the tracks the white wolf left behind as it departed. He reaches out a paw to touch one, and quickly realizes that his paw fits inside it perfectly. His shame melts away. He raises his head up high, nose aimed at the moon, and lets loose a howl.

As if by magic, the white wolf reappears in the fog. Balto continues to howl, feeling as if it's the most natural thing he's ever done. The wolf rejoins him, and it fills the air with its own howls. The blizzard rages on around the two, but for just a moment it feels as if the world around them shimmers with a newfound clarity.

Up on top of the cliff, the sled team is huddling close together. Their spirits all seem to have been broken by what they presumed was Balto's death and the lose of the medicine. The dogs straighten up, however, upon hearing... the howling of wolves? Everyone huddles in closer together, suddenly terrified. A second later, though, they realize the howling has stopped, effectively being replaced with the sound of shuffling snow. Wait, huh? Everyone peers over the cliffside.

It's Balto, very much not dead, and very much pulling the unharmed crate of anti-toxin behind him. The dogs yap with joy, cheering Balto on as he mounts the cliff. The moment he's within reach, several dogs lift him and the crate the rest of the way up. Balto collapses in the snow, absolutely pooped. He lies there for just a moment, beaming coyly as the dogs praise him for his feat. Is this what it's like to be respected? When Balto can stand again, the dogs go through the motions once more: musher in sled, lantern on crate, crate secured, Balto up front. And nothing can stop them now.

Well, they figure as much, anyway. But they're proven wrong a short while later. The team enters a deep valley, surrounded on all sides like a great white bowl made of high pale mountains. The air is eerily still. And then, breaking the silence, someone sneezes. The sound reverberates around the cereal bowl that is the mountain range. A moment later, a cascade of snowfall begins barreling down the steepest mountain. An avalanche! The team runs for cover in the nearest cave.

As the team enters the cave, the sled thumps loudly against the ground. The dogs hazard a look up as the tinkling sound of ice on ice becomes apparent. To their horror, they see a barrage of icicles begin to plummet down towards them. One severs the handles at the back of the sled, only inches away from the musher's head. Another slams down just beside the medicine crate, causing everyone to promptly flip shit. The team rockets forward as quickly as they can, just managing to clear the cave as the worst of the icicles shatters behind them. Okay, NOW it's gotta be over, right?

Dawn is just about to break. The cannery dogs are all struggling to rest in the cold weather. One of them, a shabby, long nosed creature, gently lifts an ear in his sleep. Some sort of sound is reverbing in the distance, so far away that it can't reach the true populace of Nome. But it's there, and it rouses him awake. Other dogs begin to take notice as well. On Balto's boat, the twin cubs follow Boris to the railing as they listen. The sound starts as a very low bellow, but soon it becomes clear...

Someone is howling. It's a foghorn! It's a train! No, it's... Balto!

Balto lets out another very primitive howl as he and the team advance towards the cannery. Everyone is overcome with joy. They're so close! The cannery dogs begin running to meet the team, eyes bulging in surprise. They didn't expect this because they really only skimmed the story up to this point. The sled team keeps pace, everyone acknowledging the cannery dogs with excited yips, as they continue towards town. Boris and the cubs climb out of the boat to greet Balto.

But the team is brought to a halt as a dog steps directly in front of the sled, unmoving. Everyone rams into one another, but at least the medicine isn't being flung off a cliff this time. The dog who stopped them is, of course, Steele. His bi-colored eyes shimmer menacingly as the sled's lantern's light reflects off of them. He says he's amazed that the dogs made it home, sarcastically giving Balto in particular a "Bravo". Very cute, very heroic.

But what does Balto expect to happen? Does he think all the townspeople are just going to accept that some guy they've always hated brought the medicine back? Balto has no idea what he's gotten himself into. His only choice, obviously, is to slip out of the harness and allow Steele to lead the team back into Nome. Now.

Wild Joe leaps out of Balto's ship, finally coming to see what all the hubbub was about. He pushes his way through the crowd of stunned cannery dogs and glares daggers at Steele, telling him that he never deserved to be the lead dog and now he's still so greedy for glory that he's holding up the cure for a child killing illness. Steele snarls at Joe, clearly not caring about his opinion. Then the other dogs in the crowd begin jeering "Yeah!" and "You tell him!" and various other cliches meant to show solidarity.

But the real surprise comes when the only dog who actually does slip out of his harness is Star. "Steele doesn't deserve credit for this!" Star spits at his big brother. "In fact, he doesn't even deserve the golden collar he's wearing! All he's ever done is boss everyone around. He's bossed me around since we were pups." Everyone's eyes drift towards Steele's neck. The golden collar and all the medals adorning it shimmer dimly. "You're the hero here, Balto," Star continues. "You deserve that collar. And you're gonna wear it."

He steps towards a stunned Steele, looking as frightened but unflappable as a weeaboo asking out a girl he likes, and lunges at Steele's throat. He yanks the collar off in one swift tug, stepping back and letting it fall to the ground at Balto's feet.

Everyone looks equally amazed at the sight of Star standing up to the guy who's shat on him his whole life. Balto looks at the collar before him, then at Star, then at Steele. "Thank you," he says awkwardly, "but he can keep it. It obviously means more to him then the kids do."

Now Steele is Peak Tilted. The team moves forward again, bypassing Steele and stepping on his collar as they do. Steele stands, chest heaving, for a moment's time before he loudly snaps "no" and drives himself at the team. He shoves cannery dogs out of the way left and right as he plummets towards Balto. Balto notices and comes to a stop beside a coal shoot. The team warns him to LOOK OUT BRUH and Steele flies at him, mouth agape and ready to bite. Just as Steele is about to land on Balto, Balto rolls over, sending Steele tripping over him in the process.

The coal shoot's hatch opens as Steele lands against the lever behind it. Steele tries to claw his way up out of the slowly opening hatch as the other dogs watch horrified. Balto tries to reach out to him, but it's too late. A load of coal drops down from another hatch above the ground. Hundreds of hunks from hell hit the hedonistic Steele as his grip slips. He screams as he falls down the shaft below, a 2 ton torrent of coal following right behind him. Eventually all that can be heard is the sound of stray chunks of coal bouncing around in the shaft. The sound fades as both hatches close. Steele is gone.

Wild Joe walks over, gazes at the closed hatch, and gives a low grunt. He laments on how it couldn't have happened to a nicer dog, then turns to Balto. He says that Balto can't stand around all day when he's got medicine to deliver. But first there's something he needs to do. Star was right, Balto does deserve a collar. And to make sure he has one, Wild Joe slips his own golden collar off his neck, effectively stripping naked in public, and puts it on Balto. Balto is awed. Boris comes up behind him and wraps a wing around him, complimenting him on his new look. Joe tells everyone to hurry into town, and so they do. Balto lets up a torrent of howls once more.

The team FINALLY enters town, and already a whole slew of townsfolk have gathered to see what's going on. They can't contain their relief and their joy upon seeing the medicine has honest to God arrived. Balto brings the team to a stop right in front of the hospital, and immediately the doctor and several other people pry open the crate. A wave of people descend upon the dogs of the team, petting and hugging them. Balto is no exception to this, as people he never expected to respect him begin rubbing his ears and stroking his back.

One of those people is Rosie's father. He hesitates for a second before stroking Balto's head, then leans down and wraps his arms around the dog's neck. Balto withdraws for a moment, but then allows himself to be held. When he's satisfied with the amount of wolfdog hugging he's done, the man coaxes Balto into the hospital, where the staff is already going about administering the anti-toxin to the children.

Balto is brought in to meet Rosie. It's been some time since he's seen her, and she's just been given her injection of the medicine. She's still too weak to lift her head, but she smiles at him all the same. She reaches out her hand to stroke his muzzle, and he licks her. "Balto," she cooes half asleep, "I'd've been lost without you."

She gives a sigh and begins to snore gently, and Balto considers this an appropriate time to head outski. As he turns to leave, he sees Jenna in the doorway, her face scrunched tight in a misty-eyed grin.

The two dogs throw themselves into each other, romping in the doorway. Jenna allows herself to weep, and even Balto's eyes get a little wet. Part of her had truly believed she'd never see her closest friend again. As the two pause and settle back down, she goes to git it and plants a kiss (or the dog equivalent of one I guess) on his nose. He returns the gesture and the two lean into one another. They sit in an embrace as the town continues its celebrating.

A year has passed. Balto, Joe's golden collar still adorning his neck, runs across the cannery harbor to the boat he used to live in. Boris can be seen teaching Luk how to sweep the deck with a poorly held together broom. Muk watches in amusement. Balto calls to Boris that it's time and that he and the kids are invited if they'd like to come along. Boris, overjoyed, leaps onto Muk's back and tells the cubs to pretend they're Paul Revere and hurry up. Everyone who lives in the cannery greets Balto as he rushes by.

Balto passes Dixie on the street as everyone hurries along. Dixie's owner is offput by the presence of the polar bear cubs hi hello what the hell, but Dixie nonchalantly asks Balto what all the fuss is about. Balto explains that it's time, and Dixie congratulates him. He continues his trek, and it goes very much like it did when he was competing in the trial race before the Great Race of Mercy took place.

Finally, Balto reaches the hospital's boiler room. Inside huddle a small crowd: Rosie, her parents, Wild Joe (who is looking a little green), Doc, the actual doc, and, of course, Jenna. Jenna's the center of attention, and she's clearly exhausted. But she's not so exhausted that she can't look up at Balto with a smile on her face. Wild Joe grabs the blanket that she's tucked into and pulls it off of her as Balto and his friends gaze over her.

A litter of 6 puppies whimper out complaints as they reorganize themselves against their mother's warm belly. They're sickeningly precious, squeaking and huddling together. Most of the little ones are varying shades of red like their mother, but the smallest newborn looks remarkably like her father. She lifts her tiny, trembling head and lets out quite possibly the smallest howl any living thing has ever uttered. Everyone chuckles, and Balto leans his head into Jenna's cheek. Their faces are awash with pride.

So there you have it, Balto But Not Balto But Still Balto. Happy 24th year of existing, you trashfire of a movie you. I genuinely love this movie more then I should, and this has been fun to work on. Later this month I'll dump some more Balto stuff here, but it's just about time for me to start a new project for this blog. Hope yous guys enjoyed the wolfdoggy content. Cheers.

#balto #balto words #balto draws #amblimation #rewrite #fanfic

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kookscrescent · 5 years ago

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Wings Are Meant To Fly │ pjm

➤ pairing│Jimin x female reader ➤ summary│You finally go your wings, but when you find yourself having a difficult time learning the ins and outs of flying, the last person you want help from offers his. ➤ rating│PG-13 ➤ genre│fairy au, fantasy au, enemies to lovers ➤ warnings│strong language, some kissing, Jimin is simply an asshole, some humor (hopefully lol...) ➤ word count│5k│semi edited ➤ release date│December 9th 2019 ➤ disclaimer│This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

⇥ Masterlist

”God fucking dammit!”

Cursing loudly, you stumble through the thickness of the bushes and trees. Thorns pocking the bare skin on your legs, some of them penetrating the skin leaving behind a stinging sensation.

You look down the length of your body. You have dirt everywhere! The new dress your mother made for this specific day is now completely ruined! The white fabric now stained with brown dirt and green spots of grass.

“Ugh!” you cry loudly in frustration, your hands furiously trying to wipe away as much of it as possible.

Leaves crumble in the tall bushes next to you, “Having trouble?”

The voice startles you, making you jump in shock and making your heart beat uncontrollably. You scoff when you notice who the voice belongs to. Him. Why does he have to be the one to witness this of all the people in the village?!

“Go away.” You grumble and turn your back to him.

But of course he doesn’t listen. He never does. He only ever listens to himself and his father. “But I was enjoying the show.” He pouts, but you can clearly hear the amusement in his voice, and it makes your blood boil.

“I’m serious Jimin, go away!”

Your day has already been crap thus far and you don’t need him as audience for this just to go back to the village and tell everyone how much you suck at learning how to fly.

For over centuries, young fairies have grown into their wings on their 21st birthday. Today was your turn to get yours. You were so excited when you woke up this morning, not caring in the slightest about the presents and the breakfast your parents had prepared for you, you just rushed to the bathroom to look at your new wings in the mirror.

They are beautiful. You have always seen everyone older than you walking around with theirs and flying around the village. It was such a sight and you couldn’t wait for the day you got yours.

You are still amazed when you look over your shoulder and they are there. Pure white and feathery, and just the right size for you.

But your happiness didn’t last very long.

In this village it is also customary to learn how to fly on your own. That means without supervision and without help from any of the elders, just yourself and your wings trying to take off from the ground and stay in the air.

Not that anything would happen if anyone were to teach someone how to fly, but in this village, pride is a major key.

Flying… It sounds easy enough, but it is not! The amount of concentration it takes to get only a couple of centimeters off the ground is enough to give anyone a headache! And once you finally got a few centimeters off the ground, your entire body would spasm, sending you crashing right to the ground.

It is no fun at all! And the fact that Jimin has just witnessed your crash of humiliation is just the icing on the cake. You know that by the end of the day the entire village will know about you lost attempts of flying.

“You know it usually takes a one or two tries for most people, but five tries ____? Really?”

You bend down to grab the nearest rock and you throw it at him, aiming for his face. “Fuck off Jimin!”

The rock isn’t even close to hitting his face. You manage to humiliate yourself even further by throwing like a total loser as well. Great!

Jimin laughs at your poor attempt. “You can’t even throw!”

“Not all of us grew up in the same conditions as you!” You throw back desperately.

Being the son of the fairy king, Jimin grew up in a completely different setting than you. Sure, you went to the same school during your younger years and through your teenager stage, but in private it was all different.

He grew up in a castle with a king as his father, while you grew up in a normal house and your father is by no means a king, he is however an advisor to the king, but being one of the kings advisors doesn’t bring you any privileges in this field per say. Jimin received training in all sorts of things like sports, history and because of his position as the king’s son, he was even permitted flying lessons when he turned 21. You didn’t get any of that growing up. Your fathers takes great honor in his pride as well as his family’s pride, and he is a firm believer in self learning, so the extend of your training – of any kind – was your father trying to get you to play sports with him. He quickly gave up when he realized that it would be to no avail though. You don’t own a single sporty bone in your body!

The rock you just tried throwing is evidence of that!

“I didn’t receive training in rock throwing,” he deadpans with a laugh.

Jimin steps closer to you, standing in your line of sight. You glare at him, wishing that you could smack that stupid smirk right off his face, but you know it will only get you in trouble.

You notice he has retracted his wings, the space on his back being left bare and only covered by his shirt, but you have seen them plenty of times before. They are unlike any other wings. He is a direct line to the throne, royal blood running through his veins and therefor his wings are black. Just like his fathers.

You would never in a million years admit this to him, but his wings are actually quite breathtaking. The color so rare and unique for wings, and when they hit direct sunlight they turn silver – the same color as his hair.

Jimin takes in the sight of you as well. The light layer of dirt covering your white wings is proof that you have fallen to the ground more times then you have stayed in the air. Your dress as well is covered in dirt and mud, and Jimin finds it rather amusing that you haven’t yet mastered the skill of flying.

You sigh in despair, “Seriously Jimin, what do you want?” You just wish for him to leave you alone so you can get a grip on this.

“Nothing,” he shrugs.

“Good, then leave.”

You don’t know if it is the pleading tone of your voice or the way your hope is slowly leaving your body, but eventually, after a few seconds of pondering, Jimin turns and leaves through the bushes. You watch him leave without further words, the tightness in your shoulders slowly loosening and when you can’t see him through the branches and leaves, you breathe deeply, determined to fly.

“How did it go?” Your mother asks as soon as you step into your house. The sun has long set and has been replaced by the moon for the night.

“Did you fly?” she proceeds to ask when you don’t answer her first question.

You head straight for your bedroom. “I don’t wanna talk about it!” You say with a little too much anger and slam the door behind you.

You feel bad for talking like that to your mother. It’s not her fault that you can’t seem to get a grasp on this stupid flying thing!

Faceplanting on your bed, you groan loudly into the pillow – all of your pent-up anger and frustration seeping into the soft fabric.

Why did you have to be born as a fairy? Why could you not just have been born as a human or a troll… Okay, maybe not a troll, but still!

Do you even need the skill of flying? What is it even good for? It’s not like it’s a life or dead necessity.

“This sucks!” You mumble into the pillow.

Despite the fact that you haven’t slept a wink last night, your determination has brought you out of bed at the crack of dawn and back to the same secluded clearing. The sun has barely even woken up yet and the entire village is still sleeping. Not a single fairy is in sight and you thank the great fairy God that your 21st birthday fell on a Friday, which means that today is Saturday and no one will be up for at least a couple of hours.

You learnt from your mistake yesterday, wearing a brand new dress was a bad idea, so instead you opted for a pair of your old leggings and a t shirt you don’t care about. Thankfully it’s not to chilly in the mornings this time of the year.

You can see the small clearing as you push through many branches, your hands providing your face with safety as they pounce back every time they are slightly pushed to the side.

As you make it out of the bushes, you spot a figure sitting on the opposite side of the small field, leaning casually against a tree while eating an apple. You stop in your tracks when you realize just who it is.

“What the hell are you doing here Jimin?!”

He doesn’t even flinch at the tone of your annoyed voice. He briefly lifts his head to meet your eyes before he returns his focus to the apple, taking a big bite, the sound ringing through the empty clearing.

“You’re here?” He feigns nonchalantly.

“Why are you here?” You ask him again stepping closer.

This time he keeps his eyes on yours, a stupid smile appearing on his face. “I was out for my morning run and decided to take a little break.” Another bite of apple goes into his mouth.

Frustrated, you shake your head and cross your arms over your chest. “You were out for your morning run?” You huff. “Right Jimin, whatever.”

You decide to leave. You really don’t have the energy to deal with him today! You’ve barely slept more than a few minutes and you are still angry and frustrated from yesterday. You are practically a bomb waiting to go off!

“I can help you, you know!” Jimin calls after you making you stop and face him.

“What?”

“I can teach you how to fly.”

You narrow your eyes at him. What is his deal? “And why exactly would you do that?”

“Wings are meant to fly,” he smirks arrogantly and then adds on a shrug, “and I’m a friendly soul.”

You could laugh right then and there! Jimin a friendly soul? Right!

In all the years you have known him, he has never once been remotely friendly towards you. Jimin is 2 years older than you, and during your school years, he was always the most popular guy. Everyone wanted to be his friend but he always kept to his close knit circle of friends.

The elite fairies.

They were a group of seven guys, all stemming from similar backgrounds, except for Jimin being higher in rank than all of them. But you don’t really think they look at it in that way. They were all friends, equal so to say.

Or at least that was the vibe you got from them whenever you saw them in the hallways.

But he has never been nice to you! He would always tease you for the way you dressed, the way you styled your hair. He even teased you for hitting puberty later than most of the other girls.

You hated that he felt like he could just tease and make fun of whoever he pleased just because of his father is the king.

“I’m sorry, but did you just say that you are a friendly soul?” You laugh and he has the audacity to scowl at you. “Sure, and I’m your fairy godmother.”

Jimin stands form his spot by the tree, carelessly throwing the remainder of his apple to the ground. He takes slow steps towards you, his hands going into the pockets of his black joggers. “Really? I’ve actually never met my fairy godmother seeing as she died over 100 years ago, but I must say you really do hold up nicely for someone that is supposedly dead.”

If you could just smack him once and get away with it! You can feel your palms itching to do so, but you fight the urge.

“Goodbye!” You growl with clenched teeth.

“I can have you up and flying by the end of the hour.” He drawls his promise seductively, his voice coated with sugar and venom.

Again, you stop walking as his words settle with you. He can have you flying by the end of the hour but at what cost? What does he get out of this arrangement? Would it even be that bad having him teach you how to do it? Sure it would hurt your pride, but you really don’t know how many more crashes you can take before you eventually go crazy and rip off your wings.

Fuck! Are you really contemplating this?!

“What would you get out of it?”

Jimin goes through all of the options in his head, his lips forming a straight line but his eyes dancing brightly with humor.

“A kiss.” He finally lands on.

You almost choke on air. A kiss!? What the hell!

“You want me to kiss you?!” You sputter. “What the fuck? Why?!”

Jimin shrugs, “Call it curiosity.”

“What even…” Your words slowly die down as you feel yourself getting flushed. You hate to admit it, but as much as you hate the guy you are not blind! You think he’s attractive – of course you do, you would be stupid not to think so, but that fact doesn’t make up for him being a complete asshole!

Yet, you find yourself seriously wanting to kiss him… just to see what it would be like…

No! You can’t seriously want to kiss him! It’s an internal battle with yourself, your mind going over all of the pros and cons. The pro is that by the end of the hour you will hopefully be flying with ease, and the cons are that its Jimin who will have taught you how to do it, and he will most likely tease you with it for the rest of your existing life and you will have to kiss him as well.

All though that part can be seen as both a pro and a con depending on which part of your body you ask right now.

“Alright, fine!” You hear yourself speak in the end. “But one kiss. One small peck!” You stress to him.

“Whatever,” he pulls his hands from his pockets and stands in front of you. “Let’s see your wings then.”

You feel a little intimidated to spread your wings right here in front of Jimin. It’s not a difficult task to do, you quickly mastered how to retract and extend them yesterday but having Jimin’s burning gaze on you while you do it… it is a little unsettling.

With a deep breath you let your wings flutter open behind you. It is still a feeling you are getting used to and you still haven’t made up you mind if you like the feeling or not. It doesn’t hurt per say, but its most definitely not a pleasant feeling either. The best way you can describe it is, that it is similar to the feeling of popping a pimple. It sounds gross but it’s the truth. The feeling of something bursting through your skin but it doesn’t hurt it is just unpleasant at most.

As you seem lost in your own thoughts, Jimin takes the opportunity to study your wings. They look pretty much the same as other normal wings, the same white color only yours are a tad bit more feathery, a few of the feathers hanging delicately at the bottom of them giving them a more feminine look, and they are smaller, not by much, but enough to match your physic perfectly.

“So where do we start?” You ask, your arms spreading wide in a shrugging motion. “What should I do?”

Jimin clears his throat, “Firstly,” he begins circling you till he stands behind you. “You need to become one with your wings.”

“What are-“

“You need to know your wings to be able to control them.”

“I can already do that. You just saw me extend them, didn’t you?” You huff annoyed.

“That’s not the same thing,” he tsks. “Being able to extend and retract them is easy enough. It’s a form of control yes, but it’s not the same.” He explains.

Jimin puts both of his hands on your shoulders and you stiffen even further under his touch. Behind you Jimin smirks at your reaction. “You need to connect with your wings.” He continues. “Loosen up, relax your body.”

You try your hardest to relax, but the heat from his hands are making it almost impossible for you to do so. Closing your eyes, you concentrate hard on trying to relax.

“There you go,” Jimin praises you, when he feels your muscles loosen up.

“What now?”

He moves his hands from your shoulders completely, taking the warmth with him. He steps to your front once again but you keep your eyes closed. If you look at him now you will just tense up again.

“Now, you focus all your energy on your wings. Imagine them in your mind, draw out a clear picture of them, what they look like, how they feel, what they would look like in the air.” He lowers his voice with each word, the sound settling in your mind.

You do as you are told. You mind and body focusing on the same thing and slowly you begin feeling a sensation of small shocks through your body.

You begin to panic, “What’s that?” You gasp as another shock runs through you.

Jimin rolls his eyes at you, “That’s the feeling of you connecting with your wings, you idiot!”

“Don’t call me an idiot, you asshole!”

“Then stop being a baby.”

Scowling, you open your eyes. “I’m not being a baby! This whole thing is new for me, okay! You might have gotten this thing on the first try back when you first got your wings, but let me tell you something buddy, you and I are different! My father is a strong believer in self learning, so I didn’t have a teacher to teach me anything about this leading up to it!”

You can feel the anger seething out of you, and you know your entire face is probably red and your eyes close to tears.

“You do have a teacher.” Jimin points out, ignoring the rest of your little rant.

“Then stop being fucking mean to me and teach me!”

Taking a step back, Jimin shrugs his shoulders in an apologetic manner. He doesn’t say the actual words, but you take it for what it is.

Closing your eyes once again, you let your body and mind connect with your wings. The shocks begin again. Short waves running through your body and all stopping in one place: your wings.

As the shocks keep coming, you feel your wings begin to flutter. It starts slow – the soft feathers lightly moving against the morning air, but they quickly gain speed. The fluttering turns into full blown swishes and the leaves on the bushes rattle from the force of it.

The feeling is foreign and unlike anything you have felt before. It feels like your body isn’t yours anymore, like it has gone to a completely different place. The shocks are still running through your body until suddenly they aren’t, and it almost feels like you are floating instead.

“What now?” You ask Jimin confused.

“Open your eyes you moron!”

“Hey! I told you not t-“ Your scolding falls short when you eventually open your eyes to see yourself floating several inches above Jimin.

“What the fuck!?” You gasp in surprise and wobbling slightly in the air from your sudden outburst. You didn’t even feel your feet leaving the ground! When did this happen?

You look at Jimin in utter shock and he just laughs at you, the expression on your face priceless. He slaps his hands smugly, “Now you’ve learned to get in the air, now you need to learn how to control your direction.”

“Okay… how?” You ask still floating above him.

“Same as before really. Focus on where you want to go.”

“Like visualize the place?”

“Yes.” Jimin confirms. “If you want to go left, visualize it. If you want to go forward, visualize it. If you want to fly higher, visualize it.”

“Okay,” you mumble. Once again all of your focus goes to visualizing and connecting with your wings. In your head you repeat the mantra forward, forward, forward! It takes a couple of seconds, but eventually you slowly edge forward, your shadow looming over Jimin as you move.

“Oh my god!” You gasp happily. “I’m fucking flying!”

You can hear Jimin laugh behind you, the sound echoing around you as you fly in small circles amongst the tall trees and bushes.

This is amazing!

Your whole life you have waited for the day when you would finally get your wings and be able to fly! And now here you are! Granted, things didn’t turn out or run as smoothly as you had hoped for, and you have to admit that your pride is a little bruised from having to ask Jimin for help, but you are okay with that and your father doesn’t have to know that you didn’t do it all by yourself.

“How do I get back down?!” You half yell the question.

“Visualize it!” He yells back.

When you eventually land with both feet on the ground, you can’t keep the smile off your face. You just flew! And you didn’t crash and burn like the other times!

You feel a new sense of energy and happiness bubbling inside of you. You feel like you could run a marathon and swim across the oceans.

Wanting to do it again, you don’t hesitate for a second before you are back in the air, giggling like a little school fairy. This time you fly even higher than before. You fly over the tops of the trees and bushes, up where there is nothing but fresh air and quiet. You know you have to be careful when you are this high up and this unprotected. A large bird could easily come and snatch you without a second glance.

In the distance you can see the sun peeking out from the tree line. The bright rays warming your naked arms and you bathe in the feeling of it. Not a single cloud is in the sky and it is a sign that today is going to be a good day.

Slowly and to your dismay, you retreat back down to the ground. Jimin is still there, standing in the same spot as before, his eyes following you back down. In your ecstasy you had nearly forgotten about him.

You retract your wings and a silence falls between you. You know that you are supposed to say thank you to him, but for some reason having to utter those two words to him – to Jimin, is hard, and also you know you have a dept to pay to him.

“Uh,” you begin, nervously scratching the side of your arm. “Thank you for helping me out.” You surprise yourself at how strong the words come across despite the fact that your heart is beating wildly in your chest.

“You’re welcome.” Jimin answers casually.

You catch yourself zoning in on his lips. There are a good few steps between you, but you can clearly see how plump they look, and it makes you wonder what he is like when he kisses. You know for a fact that he has done plenty of kissing and fooling around in the past, several of your girlfriends having fallen victim to his charms but hearing it from someone else and experiencing it yourself are two completely different things.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “Well… bye!” You quickly rush the words out of your mouth and turn on your heal, ready to make a dash for it when Jimin takes a hold of your wrist.

“Not so fast,” he huffs, a small laugh following his words. “I believe you owe me something.”

Eyes falling to his fingers still wrapped around your wrist, you hesitantly look into his eyes. “Really? What’s that?” You feign confusion, your eyebrows raising to play up your act.

Jimin just rolls his eyes at you, “A kiss.” As soon as the word kiss is in the air, your heart begins to race once again. It is beating so fast that you are pretty sure that Jimin is able to see it beating against your chest.

You hum, “Hmm, I don’t remember ever agreeing to kiss you.” Just for good measure, you look around you in confusion as if you are looking for that specific memory.

He tilts his head, boyish smile adoring his plump lips. “Now you might be an idiot, but I know you’re not dumb.”

“Did you just insult me and compliment me at the same time?” You give him a funny look and point a finger at him. “You know that takes a certain amount of talent to do that. Most people just do one or the other. You know, they either choose compliment or insult… it takes-“

“Would you stop rambling,” he interrupts you. “Trying to change the subject won’t work on me.”

You sigh in despair, “Why do you even wanna kiss me?!”

You still can’t wrap your head around it –Jimin wants a kiss from you? Why? You might be a fairy but it’s not like you have fucking magic lips. At least not to your knowledge or to the knowledge of the guys you have kissed in the past.

“Curiosity,” he repeats his previous statement, not providing you any further explanation.

Without letting go of your wrist, Jimin effortlessly spins you around to face him. Your eyes go wide at the proximity of your bodies, your personal space being invaded completely. He’s close, so close that you have to look away in fear that you will start blushing.

But the distance between you seems to be too large for Jimin because he steps closer to you, your breaths mingling and our knees touching. Your heart is beating at an unbelievable pace, your breathing ragged. You need to take a step away from him before you pass out, but it is to no use. Jimin just follows right after you and in the end, you can’t step away any further, your back coming into contact with a large tree.

You nervously eye him, noticing the way the corners of his lips lift into a smile at your little game of cat and mouse.

Meekly, you slump your shoulders. You might as well just get it over with now, rather than drawing it out any longer. A small peck wont hurt.

“Let’s just get this over with.” You grouchily mumble.

“I love your eagerness,” he comments only to receive a glare from you.

Jimin leans closer to you, your faces only millimeters apart and your noses gently brushing each other. It happens before you can even muster a second thought about it. His lips gently settling over yours in what you would barely call a kiss.

You keep still as Jimin frees your wrist, your lips still touching as he instead cups the sides of your face and gently begins moving his lips over yours. You stop breathing for a moment and your eyes flutter shut on their own accord, the feeling becoming too overwhelming for you to keep them open.

Your body completely melts against his, your hands finding their place on the surface of his chest as the pace of the kiss gradually speeds up – going from slow and hesitant to frantic and heated. Gasping softly against his lips, Jimin slips his tongue past your lips, taking the opportunity to explore your mouth. It’s a feeling you welcome, relaxing even further against the tree and slinging your arms around his neck to bring him closer.

Jimin groans when you gently scratch the hairs at the nape of his neck, your fingers combing through the silver locks. The sound vibrating through your lips and down your spine, goosebumps erupting on your skin.

His thumbs gingerly brush across your cheeks in an almost loving manner, your stomach turning in knots at the unfamiliar feeling it leaves you with.

If you had to describe this moment with one word, it would be perfect. This moment just feels… perfect. The way your lips fit so perfectly together, melting into each other and the way he feels pressed against you.

You honestly don’t know how it happens, but you keep kissing, there in the middle of the clearing in the early morning. Not a single thought going through your head other than wanting to keep kissing him. It’s a feeling you could easily get addicted to… and that is what you were worried about in the first place…

Jimin nips at your bottom lip, dragging it out the slightest bit before letting it go and returning his lips to yours, but when it becomes harder to breath, oxygen needed for the both of you, your pull back, your eyes meeting instead. Breathlessly, you stare into his eyes. You don’t know what to say now. What do you say after a moment like this? Thank you?

“T-That was,” you stutter, falling over your own words. “That was… some k-kiss.” You finally manage to breath out in between breaths.

“I never half ass things,” Jimin smirks, seeming like he isn’t affected in the slightest. His hands still cupping your cheeks, but he quickly realizes and in a hurry he retreats them from your face and stuffs them in the pockets of his joggers.

“Uh, I-“

“I’ll see you around ____.” He cuts you off only seconds after you begin speaking. And no later, he turns and leaves through the bushes, leaving you standing against the tree all alone, and confused as hell!

What the hell just happened?!

I hope you enjoyed reading! If you did, remember to like and reblog! - Thank youuu!

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ghosthunthq · 5 years ago

Text

It was All His Hallucination

Hi! My name is @nadtto and this is my fanfic for 2020 GH Fanworks Weekend. This is actually the first time I write a GH fanfic despite being fans for years lol. Thank you for encouraging me with this event! I hope you enjoy this fanfic!

Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama

Rating: T

Prompt: 4. Hallucination

Summary:

hal·lu·ci·na·tion noun an experience involving the apparent perception of something not present. Naru don’t have any ability to see a ghost, that’s what his deceased brother did. But why did he see her now, even not in his dream? *** It’s almost midnight when he decided to warp up his work and head home. He was alone in his office, as other employees went home around 6. He turned off all light and air conditioner, then walked slowly to basement where his car is. He only nods when security greeted him while he opened his car door, threw his bag on the back, and got in. The echoes from his car engine roared so loud because of empty basement parking area. The traffic is empty at midnight, he arrived his home in just 10 minutes. When he opened door, he only met darkness. He turned on the lights, a sudden bright light blinded him for a moment. He put his bag on couch and head bathroom to take a quick shower. He hadn’t eat dinner but he didn’t feel hungry today. After shower, he put dark t-shirt and pants, then walked towards couch and sat. On top of his coffee table, there is small rectangular shape gift box. He began to have staring contest with the box for a long time, hesitate what to do with it. He knew he won’t ever be ready for this. After all, he’s let that box unopened for a year. He roughly know the contain of the box, so why bother open it. “Is this really what you want?” He asked quietly to empty chair across him. It’s empty if somebody also in the same room. It’s not empty for him, as his eyes are seeing Mai clearly sat on that chair while smiling faintly. Naru don’t have any ability to see a ghost, that’s what his deceased brother did. But why did he see her now, even not in his dream?

She didn’t talk or gesture any movement, and it’s kind of frustrated him. He couldn’t beg her not to do this to him. He secretly like when she chatter nonstop then laugh about anything or when she tried to annoys him with her mischievous act. But now, she just sat quietly. He missed her so much that he seeing her again vividly now, though she already gone and he even couldn’t see a ghost. He gritted his teeth out of his frustration and said, “Fine, I’ll open it.” He rarely win an argument with her after married to her, why tried to win when he knew she didn’t really exist right now. He just touching the box, then suddenly he saw vision. A pair of delicate hands with small diamond ring on left ring finger that he knew to well. He was the one who putted it on her years ago. He felt so excited as the person vision also pour her excitement into the box, “I hope Naru will be happy with this gift.” She said while holding the unopened box. The vision end, but his heart start to ache. He bit his lips to hold his emotion and took a deep breath. He needed to remember Lin’s teaching about how to not getting attached with emotion after saw a vision. After calmed down for awhile, he put the lid of the box and stared at the black leather wristwatch inside. The model looked timeless and from a famous wristwatch brand. She always like that, knew it so well about him. She knew he would like it, and he did. He bowed his head and sighed in frustration. He never like it when he expressed his emotion, even though he was alone. He lifted his head again to face her who still silently sat. “….Thank you. You always knew that I do thankful for you, for everything.” Today is September 19th. Naru and his brother birthday. It supposed to be his gift for his birthday a year ago. He never bother about his birthday, but she always make a fuss about it. She always make sure they celebrate it together. “You know, among 365 days a year, l feel happiest on your birthday” she said one time.

“And why is that? Clearly I don’t even care about my birthday.” He replied nonchalantly.

She sat up and face him, then stroke his cheek with her thumb. “Because today is the day you where born. I’m thankful that you were born on this day years ago and be with me today. You and I went through so much hardship in this life, but those hardship make me meet you, and you’re being with me today.” She kissed sofly his cheek and he feel dumbfounded when heard her words. She laugh at his expression, “Really, Naru. You’re gotta used to hear about people expressed feelings towards you more often.” “Never heard any of it before.” He coolly replied her. “Well, you will from now on.” She kissed his other cheek. “Are you finish?” He asked. “What? How heartless of you!!” Mai eyes gotten big as she didn’t believe what he just said. “Now, it’s my turn.” He grabbed her head and put his lips on her. Mai felt his smile while he kissed her. At that moment, she knew that he also happy being with her. Naru is the man of a few words and she knew it too well. When the kiss getting deeper, she reciprocate with the same eagerness. He painfully reminiscing about her on his birthday. “You wouldn’t come back to say those words again, would you?” He asked the silent Mai in front of him. “Why did you leave me on the day you said you feel happiest, Mai?” He vividly remember a year ago on September 19th, just like yesterday. Mai made him promise to celebrate his birthday with dinner at the place where they had first date after Mai moved to London. He insisted to pick her up at her office and go together, but she said she will be late for a bit because on the day her schedule full with important meetings and had to pick up his surprise gift after work. “If you picked me up, it won’t be surprise anymore.” she argue. “Fine, but text me when you’re on the way to the restaurant. I’ll be waiting there.” he gave up. He won’t win an argument when Mai wanted to make a surprise. “Will do!” She soundly kiss him. “Happy birthday, see you later.” She said then gave one more light kiss. That was the last time he heard her lively cheerful voice. She never showed up as he waited anxiously for an hour after the promise time. She did text him that she on the way half an hour before their promise time, but she didn’t pick his several calls after he arrived and waited at restaurant. He thought maybe she caught in the rush hour traffic. He absentmindedly touch his wedding ring, then he saw that vision. Mai just get off from tube and start to climb to the stairs for the exit. At the end of stairs, she saw a drunk man tried to force a young woman to go with him. When Mai saw it, she yelled at the man to stop and tried to separate them to help the lady. But the drunk man’s hand pushed Mai, she lost her balance. Everything felt in slow motion. Her body landed on cold floor and she felt excruciating pain all over her head and her body. Screams everywhere. Her tear down on her cheek while her lips saying “Sorry” in weak voice. Her vision become blur, then she closed her eyes. He could hear people panicking to phone ambulance through the vision. Several moment later he saw paramedics rush to get her and taking her to ambulance. His vision got interrupted when his phone rang. He saw a number, presumably from hospital. He looked calm on the outside, but he felt pain on his head and his heart thumping so quickly after seeing the vision. He pulled 100 pounds from his wallet and put it on table, then hurriedly left the restaurant. “Hello, Davis speaking. I’ll be on my way.” He didn’t remember how he got to the hospital and now waiting for Mai, outside operation room. Madoka, Lin, and his parents came half an hour after he arrived. He didn’t remember whether he was the one who told them or not. His head was thumping nonstop, he couldn’t think anything. Martin tried to soothe Luela who weakly sob at his embrace. Madoka tried to talked to nurses about what happened because Naru didn’t speak anything. Lin sat beside Naru and squeezed his shoulder softly to reassure everyone is here for them. When the light from operation room off, the doctor came out and explained to Naru that there’s only slight chance of Mai’s survival because she hit her head first. The doctor said Mai would be on the ICU until she regained her consciousness. But just before September 19th was over, she draw her last breath without saying goodbye to him. And until now, she never did. She only stared at him with that weak smile when he lays face to her side on their bed, across him when he eat at their dining table, beside him when he sat on their living room couch. Madoka never sees her, Lin never feels her presence, let alone his parents. It was all his hallucination. He stared at Mai face again. “You become a reason that I’ll never feel happy on my birthday again, Mai. Because you wouldn’t be here.” He picked up the wristwatch. He stroked it and felt nothing, there’s no vision come from it. It means Mai hadn’t touch the watch, just the box. “Do you even know what you bought?” He scolded weakly. He felt some engrave at the back of the watch’s case. He flipped it and read the engrave. L’amour ne meurt jamais “Love never dies, huh.” he quietly laugh. He didn’t shed a tear after he saw his brother dead vision. He also didn’t cry when Mai’s coffin lowered into the ground. Other people thought he is indeed a heartless man, but his family know too well that he just didn’t know how to cry. Yet he did know how to cry when a single tear down to his cheek while he hold Mai’s gift tightly. “I know. I’ll love you too beyond the death.” Naru said to Mai. The Mai in front of him smiling so brightly and alive. Her lips mouthing ‘thank you’ then disappear. Leaving him alone with memories.

***

Thank you for reading! Pardon my English and my French if there’s any mistake hehe. See you again (hopefuly) on the next project^^

#Ghost Hunt #GHW2020 #GHHQ #nadtto #Hallucination #submission

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steve0discusses · 5 years ago

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Yugioh S4 Ep 13: Yugi Dies in California, Makes Everything Awkward

Hey guys. Yugi’s DEAD. (again, but way earlier in a season than I thought he’d be)

So lets get into it.

Last we left off, Pharaoh got imbued with the powers of Lime Green. A green that I swear used to be more Aqua, but seems to sort of shift and change depending on if it’s day or night.

As a consequence, Yugi now can’t have any communication with Pharaoh. I guess this makes it so now Pharaoh is split with his “light” side but like...both Yugi and Pharaoh have both light and darkness so...I see the metaphor going on, but I don’t think the metaphor actually...worked when you think about all the screwy stuff Yugi has done even without Pharaoh around. So just don’t think about it.

The big consequence of the Yugi Banishment was more that Yugi wasn’t there to tell Pharaoh how the Oricalchos card works because--and I say this a lot--but Pharaoh doesn’t know how to read.

Pharaoh’s biggest downfall isn’t so much his greed or pride this episode, it’s his goddamn illiteracy. If he took just five seconds to study the fine print then...he wouldn’t have even cast the Oricalchos in the first place. He did it because he wanted to protect his dragon Timaeus on the field, but the Oricalchos made Timaeus immediately disappear so...Pharaoh cast this for no reason other than the plot really wanted him to do it.

Just kinda shocking that Pharaoh, of all people, made such a huge card mistake when he’s supposed to be from where all cards came from. Then again, he’s separated from Yugi who I guess had more card input than I realized, because the rest of this episode is just Pharaoh playing kind of like a dumbass.

And on the voice acting side, the guy who plays Pharaoh had to try and talk even deeper--which was kind of funny when he’s already as deep as he can go. So...it just seems like Season 1 Pharaoh to me, except he laughs more.

TBH Pharaoh was WAY more rude to PaniK than he ever was to Rafael.

(read more under the cut)

Meanwhile, Rex and Weevil have joined the pack.

Only to be hassled by the pack.

And so, since this is a show about cards, how do you make Pharaoh look like a bad person when he...always plays cards, and is usually a good person for doing this same card playing thing?

And as the person in charge of the Death Count, sorry Yugi, that doesn’t even make sense to me. If you’re telling me that JUST NOW cards are suddenly real and not 10+ episodes ago, and if you’re telling me that all of the other times Dark Magician Girl died didn’t count?

If I had to count every time that a card died when I’m pretty sure they were real then we would also have to count most Bakura duels, probably that Pegasus duel, any Shadow game, really, and like...I don’t want to do the math so I am not counting Dark Magician Girl, y’all.

She was alive at the end of this episode, and as far as I’m concerned, her prime function--the reason she exists--is to die a lot. She’s a card, that’s what they do, and I doubt she even felt bad about it. Like...I don’t think the cards are mortal. Does that make sense? I just...maybe it hurt her but like...does she care? She’s a god in this universe.

You can’t kill Zeus. And like maybe people can hassle Zeus but like it would be maybe the sensation of an itch to Zeus if you stab him directly through the throat--that’s how I feel about Dark Magician Girl. She can take a beating and won’t even know it’s happening. Girl is freakin Zeus.

A lot of this Rafael arc is about making a false reality to justify your actions. Rafeal’s was a pretty extreme case involving cards that are angels and that are still cards...or something. Pharaoh’s was “I’ll be fine, I’ve always been fine, I’m very good at this, I’m the exception to every rule.” which is a much more approachable and relatable fake reality than Rafael.

Thing is, Pharaoh’s not entirely wrong. That’s usually true for him. He usually is the exception to every rule bending RNG to his every whim. Like there’s a reason why he took the chance on the Oricalchos, it really should’ve worked out.

And TBH, would have liked to see Pharaoh do this for longer than one episode, especially since him going his brand of cray only lasted during a card game, which I don’t really watch anyway. But eventually all good things must end, and it catches up to him when he realizes the horror he has wrought.

Spoiler, it’s not that horrifying.

Like for reals, I have seen Pharaoh do some THINGS and maybe this is a sign I’ve seen too much Yugioh when I’m like “lol Pharaoh went nuts and that was it???”

I cannot believe he did not pull out even so much as a single knife this entire episode. The hatchets are right there. Then again, his puzzle powers don’t really work in the Oricalchos realm so he has to play normie style. But knives are pretty normie. I feel like Pharaoh should have pulled out some sort of makeshift brain teaser involving knives, but youknow, this season is very much more for kids than previous seasons of Yugioh.

Again, what he did to Panik is about 1000x worse than making a Halloween Kuriboh.

But, now that all the cards he sacrificed to the Shadow Realm are being resurrected and used against him, he looks into the blank face of Dark Magician Girl and accepts his defeat.

Which is very similar to what happened to Kaiba in the earlier seasons of this show. Pharaoh got Pharaoh’d.

But...while it is a throwback, heaven forbid that this show used a real ass human as a stand in for Dark Magician Girl in this scene. Could’ve had just any actual person standing around here to make Pharaoh realize a change of heart--maybe even the kid he banished in his head? But nah.

It was Dark Magician Girl for this emotional beat.

I mean we are watching Yugioh but lol, that was a decision the writing team made. Joey Wheeler’s right over there. Maybe remove Tea from that RV? No? Want to use Dark Magician Girl instead? OK then.

Anyway, now that Pharaoh was shamed enough by a paper card to remember how to be slightly more human, Yugi holds his Puzzle high over his head and screams “BY THE POWER OF THE MILLENNIUM PUZZLE!” or something and does his own brand of magic. Surprise, it’s punching stuff.

Punching stuff is always the answer.

So apparently the puzzle is more powerful than Oricalchos. Which we basically knew the whole time, I mean...Pharaoh got possessed by Oricalchos and all it did was make him play cards.

I can’t believe no one got set on fire that entire sequence.

So, since the Oricalchos demanded a soul, Yugi figured out a loophole.

And again, another Yugioh game was ended by someone threatening to kill himself, and this time it was Yugi. Who died so that Pharaoh’s yummy soul would not resurrect the Great Leviathan.

Because, while Yugi may be a soul-copy and somewhat reincarnation of the Pharaoh? Or something? He’s still not yummy enough. Not yummy enough for that Leviathan tummy.

Which lead to this great scene that I’m sure you’d remember vividly if you ever saw it even once. This is so unexpected and wild and everyone should see it.

This is moments following a very heavy death in the show--Pharaoh’s lowest point--and it is just SO JARRING AND FUNNY in context. I don’t think they meant it to be that way but I had to rewind like 8 times.

First off, enjoy this wtf helicopter, and then...

Wow.

A+ animation, I would never have been so bold as to do drop Pharaoh like a sack of potatoes from 50 feet in the air right after killing Yugi Muto on screen. 10/10. Amazing.

And after it happens, Duke kinda looks over and has the gall to ask... “Are you guys all right?” It’s just...

Wow.

I’m applauding at my computer, I am so glad that whole sequence exists. I’ll probably lift it eventually just to have.

And then the rest of this episode is Pharaoh trying to tell everyone what happened but Everyone still doesn’t quite get it, despite how wildly blunt Pharaoh is.

Cue the endless crying, because if this show loves anything, it’s men in eyeliner openly weeping into the dirt at their feet. Thankfully, Yugi had the foresight to get waterproof mascara, because if he’s gonna die, he doesn’t want Yami to blow up that perfectly cut stiletto heel line.

MAN I am so jealous of this teenage boy’s makeup.

And since I asked the void nicely for Yugioh to be in PAD, and now that PAD put Yugioh in there as if it heard me, I will now turn my attention to Sephora.

Please, Sephora, make me a Yugioh makeup line that is waterproof as hell so I can ugly cry in the hottest desert in America and still not smudge, thx.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand Yugi Muto is officially dead!

Didn’t expect that, being real.

Wow.

Really I thought that they would die if ever they ever got separated, but apparently Pharaoh is fine he just...lacks his Yugi half that knows how to read stuff and had a slightly longer attention span.

I can’t believe they cured Yugi of his curse! Congrats, Yugi! You are no longer possessed!

Y’all. Lets just appreciate the Yugioh Episode 13 curse for a bit.

First episode 13, Bakura killed everyone with like no warning

Second Episode 13 was Ankle-slicing Bandsaw Clown

Third Episode 13 Noah revealed he was Seto’s Secret Already Dead Brother trying to take over Seto’s body

Fourth Episode 13 Yami finally managed murdering Yugi.

Like I dunno if they planned for all 13s to be all the WTF ones, but I’m glad it’s managed so far. I should’ve known when I started this episode that it was a 13, but I just...I just forgot.

Really thought Yami was going to survive this one and we’d have to bury Rafael on this mesa. Lucky for them and the local police, it’s just paranormal murder today.

Anyway...there’s like a lot more episodes of this season left and I don’t know where it’s going anymore. Should be fun. At the rate we’re going, we’re gonna take a bike ride over to New York City to do more card games on the desert Mesas of NYC. Lets see how long Yugi will remain dead.

Maybe next episode Pharaoh will just throw on a bedsheet and Rebecca’s shower sandals so he can go full Egyptian Era? Maybe the eyeliner will be drawn all the way to his freakin ears? Y’all what if he gets really into beads and gold now?

(and if you just got here, this is a handy link to read all of these recaps in chrono order. There’s a lot of them.)

#ygo #yugioh #photo recap #episode recap #yugi muto #yami #joey wheeler #rafael #duke devlin #tristan taylor #rex raptor #weevil underwood #a helicopter #Dying in a kid's show #Yugi's freakin dead

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blic-blockfinds · 5 years ago

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1. who’s your celebrity crush?

Chris Hemsworth, Tom Hardy, Jason Mamoa, and dare I say Jeff Goldblum.

2. are you single or taken?

Single

3. rant. just do it

I want to but I can’t!!!

4. do you think it’s ok to separate the artist from the art?

This is a tough question. I am an artist myself, and I know that often art is an expression of self. However, I do think that a piece of art on its own can have merit, despite the character of the creator.

5. how many accounts do you have?

3! I have this one for CC finds, a sideblog for builds and interior inspiration, and my gameplay blog @blic-blocksims

6. how many pairs of shoes do you have?

Probably like 10. But I haven’t counted, and I only wear a couple pair of them lol

7. opinion on global warming

I believe it exists, I’ve seen its effects and it’s scary af. Unfortunately we as consumers can’t do much. I try not to think about it otl

8. how many accounts do you follow?

727

9. favorite brand of clothing?

Old Navy!! I love their color palettes and variety of sizes.

10. name a dog

Floofus.

11. what unusual talent do you have?

I can touch my nose with my tongue :P

12. what’s the most interesting gossip you’ve ever heard?

I ain’t no snitch.

13. ever prank called a store?

14. what’s your coffee order?

I am a baby, so I like sweet coffee. My usual order is an iced cafe latte, made with only one short of espresso, soy milk, and 7 pumps of vanilla. In the winter I l like the same drink hot!

15. what’s a question you constantly get asked?

Wtf are you doing?

16. if you had to get a tattoo right now, what would you get and where?

I’d love to get something geometric. Or water color style. I have no idea what. I have a low pain tolerance 😂

17. google the top song from the year you were born

The Sign by Ace of Base?

18. rant about your favorite musician

My favorite musicians are a band called Caravan Palace. They’re from France, and they play electro swing!! I went to their concert when they came here about 5 years ago and it was so much fucking fun omg

19. who’s your favorite teacher you’ve ever had?

My favorite teacher is probably my college professor, Mr. Chow. He doesn’t usually go by that, but I’d rather not put up his first name. He’s an old school storyboard artist, and one of the funniest people I know. He supported more than any other professor I had and I miss him a lot.

20. describe your blog in 3-5 words

Sims 4 custom content blog

21. what’s a conspiracy you believe in?

Why is it when you’re doing these questionnaires your mind goes blank? 😂

22. if you could see any concert tonight what would you choose?

I’d love to see Ninja Sex Party and TWRP!! But if I could choose anyone in history, Queen.

23. if you could break one of your bad habits which would you choose?

Probably sleeping late.

24. can you dance? sing?

I can sing and dance. The question is, should I? lol

25. what’s something you can’t stop buying?

Socks! I love those cheap ankle socks with the cute patterns on them.

26. crowds or small groups?

Small group please!

27. how long before a trip do you pack?

Maybe a day or two before. But I don’t travel much lol

28. what celebrity would you rate a PERFECT 10?

Dan Avidan and Arin Hanson

29. what quote or inspirational setting do you think is bs?

Live, laugh, love.

30. if you had to dye your hair an unnatural color right now, what would you choose?

Pink or teal!

31. you can change one thing about your life right now. what are you changing?

I want an internship with this studio I’ve been eyeing. They haven’t been answering my emails. >:I

32. how old do you get mistaken for?

I would say like 20. But then again, people always assumed I was older when I was a teenager.

33. what do you think about a lot

Dogs. <3

34. do you like your hogwarts house or do you wish you were a different one?

Hufflepuff is the best!!!

35. what does home mean to you?

Whenever I am with people I love!

36. what do you think you’d be arrested for?

Probably accidental driving mishap.

37. have you ever been called down to the principals office?

No, I was a nark lol

38. post a picture of the outfit you would choose if you could have any outfit you wanted

I couldn’t find one!!! T- T

39. describe your aesthetic

Bright, colorful, cute and a little edgy

40. answer with one of your inside jokes with no explanation

💩 🥧

#blockspeaks #get to know me #hezzasims

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gylling02melton-blog · 6 years ago

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Occur You Get Receive, simply In Opportunity For Dessert ...

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Dariush Mozaffarian: The set from preliminary foods which really possessed no sturdy web link in either case consisted of low fat dairy products yet additionally whole fat deposits milk was toneless relative to weight increase and also cheese was fully toneless. Yet the bottom line is this - if you do not eat, yes, you will lose weight as well as lessen your blood glucose level in style 2 diabetic issues. The Diet Slimming Fragrance by VZ Hair and Beauty is certainly not also the first of its own kind. This drug is in fact a combo from 2 much older drugs that have actually been actually known to aid with weight loss: phentermine as well as topirimate. The moment I located Blogilates and also exactly how gorgeous and certain Cassey was actually, I happened her web site and also discovered a clean eating 90 time meal plan for FREE! So individuals which were monochrome thinkers and also didn't attain their weight objective were actually most likely to back out and state well I can't arrive I may as well not bother in any way. The 17 Day Diet entails adjusting your consumption of carbohydrates, excess fat, protein and also fats over a collection of 17-day patterns, which may possess the effect from improving rate of metabolism and also protecting against the stages that are common along with most diets. My service was actually to consume exactly what college youngsters ate when the body weight grew, I would diet regimen up to just what I believed was actually an appropriate weight simply to gain it back when I quit dieting. I want to try that and also observe if that helps me. I assume the SF will work for me. I did effectively on South Coastline Diet regimen 7 years back. In general terms, the 17 Time Diet regimen is actually a carbohydrate cycling diet wherein you change your consumption from carbohydrates in accordance with whatever stage of the diet you are in. Then, you will definitely manage to customize your planning and also make any type of replacements as necessary. Through controlling parts and calories, Medifast states users may assume to drop around TWENTY pounds in their very first month on the course. The progress could usually be avoided by way of living modifications including nutritional changes, moderate-intensity exercise, as well as small weight management. Now, 8 months later I am actually incredibly delighted with the food items alternatives and the durability this kind of diet regimen. My question is. Do you people stay in phass 1 greater than 17 days then carried on to the various other period or even you completed the planning after that started around again. Adding a protein is actually essential if you wish your soup to serve as a standalone food. Purpose: Our experts contrasted the impact of high energy consumption at lunch time keeping that at dinner on weight-loss and cardiometabolic risk factors in women during a weight-loss program.Design: Obese and also obese girls n = 80; physical body mass mark (BMI; in kg/m2): 27-35; age: 18-45 y were actually inquired to eat either a main meal at lunch time (LM) or even a dinner at supper (DM) for 12 wk while in a weight-loss program. The concern with weight loss diet regimens is actually that people just do not recognize how fat receives broken down, strike the trouble at its own source instead of taking folks term for that. Within a full week from being actually property many of that body weight went over as our company came back to our normal eating routines. I'm certainly not pointing out that some of their diets are fully well-balanced or maybe long-term sustainable, as well as I definitely don't promote eating problems. Some thrive on Veggies others on fruit products others merely on meats others need to have all food kinds ... Regarding the word DIET. if you eliminate the letter T you possess words DIE. LOL involving the slaughter from creatures in Islam. we hope and make sure the animal this comfortable just before fatality. When it comes to exactly what a common time on the Paleo diet plan may include, morning meal might be rushed eggs along with a side from new berries, lunch a fresh tossed salad covered with barbequed chick bust or even shrimp, as well as supper a beef tenderloin with fresh or fit to be tied veggies. The weight decline has blended a small amount, yet I still must lose yet another six kilos.

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carstensen18dideriksen-blog · 6 years ago

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Simple ques about Car insurance. Ive had my drivers licence?

For over ten yrs but have never had a car in my name. Also have never had my own car insurane. My driving record is spot clean no tickets violations nothing and im over 30. Would i still have to pay as much as a 21 yr old brand new driver for car insurance ?? am i looked at the same as them ?? I might suggest that you visit this website where you can get quotes from different companies: http://INSURECOMPAREQUOTES.US Car Insurance for Visitors? I bought a brand new vehicle. It is protected through its producer. I went along to another country to operate and stay and then quit over Germany. Since I have wanted to maintain the car, I went it to my new property! For your first a few months (I'm informed) I am still covered being a Traveler. Claim I've a collision within this new region, we trade insurance facts, etc... Where should the other driver goto get his payment and file his state? Has anybody ever had a collision with, claim actually, a rental car from another country and discovered which they stay elsewhere and. . . How should one deal with this case where there could even be language boundaries between your two individuals and also the types they've to fillin? Thanks ahead of time What is the very best car insurance firm to get a graduate student? What is the best auto insurance firm for a graduate student? What is the distinction between expression insuarnce and whole life insurance ? What is the distinction between life time insurance and phrase insuarnce? Exactly how many people dedicated life insurance fraud on 911? Exactly how many people committed life insurance fraud on 911? Any1 know much on insurance info? Hello all ive been for a year called auto primary having a motor insurance and my insurance is over now. Thus i have authorized a full decades no-claims benefit using them... well what happens today how do you receive it? Like a certificate? They havnt even sent me any issue or actually called me... One other week, i called them and they said they will deliver a confirmation of a times NCB... Is this proof needed by me or do I simply tell my next insurance to call them for comfirmation?? Thanx another concern is i got covered for 2000 direct with automobile for that year. I'd 9 things drink-driving and i hadnt had any no-claims benefit of course. The car was a ford fiesta xr2i 1.8 16v 1994. Nevertheless now 6 of the items have terminated and are off my permit and also i will have a decades no claims reward.all i have on my license now's 3 points and dr10 (drink-driving bad I am aware) anybody possess a rough idea just how much this may come down now i have a bit more of the fascinating history lol? Cheers for period yall tc" Maternity insurance or no insurance? And so I am naturally kicked their insurance off. Since it isnt worth every penny, they keep telling me to not get insurance and we should only spend of wallet. But what-if something goes wrong caught within the hospital longer than i need to be? My partner doesnt have only i work and a career but icant get insurance through their business. We pay out of pocket but would utilizing insurance be far better and probably could save up? I myself don't have insurance at-all after so i have to get both my husband and i insurance, they switch over to medicare. plus possibly putting on maternity. Thus maternity insurance?" Can A - 19 year-old get cheap car insurance on a 20-plus year-old muscle car.? O.K. I know these vehicles are not cheap to guarantee generally but i am thinking if you have any feasible way I will get cheap insurance on such a vehicle. There is also the fact this will be an everyday driver. Likewise if everyone knows if your revised car may well be more to ensure. Im looking at a 1974 Camaro using a 454 Revised or possibly a investment 1974 AMC AMX. Thanks Jay." Realize a bit of good insurance companies that may ensure a house under renovation that people're living in? We ordered a foreclosure that really needs a reasonable amount of function. We then shifted in so we are able to focus on one-room at the same time and managed to get habitable. What insurance provider could be able without raking people within the coals to guarantee this household, despite the fact that the home might incomplete?" Just how much can you purchase adolescent auto insurance per 6 month? We have 2 cars 01 camry and 98 nissan. I'm 18, father is 54 and we spend 35004+ for 6 months. Is that substantial?" What're the various kinds of life insurance? Middle age, and which of them are simpler to get,non-smoker" Best insurance providers for 17-year old and my check approved!!? 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applecreatesgravity · 5 years ago

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Pop culture-Meme

Popular culture is generally recognized by members of a society as a set of practices, beliefs, and objects that are dominant or widespread in a society at a particular point in time. For instance, American rap culture and McDonaldization. However, the rise of digital technology and the Internet has unexpectedly spawned a new form of weird and “stupid” culture media: The Internet meme.

The term “meme” was originally derived from the book “The Selfish Gene” (1989) by British scientist Richard Dawkins, which means” the natural human spreading, replication and modification of ideas and culture” (192-195). Therefore, a meme can technically be any form of information that can be transferred but depending on the mechanisms of digital and Internet technology, it is generally conceived to be an extremely contagious and often very humorous part of Internet culture that can sometimes generate enough hype to break into mainstream popular culture(Chen,2012).

In modern popular discourse, Internet memes can be funny quotes, silly captioned pictures (or image macros), animated GIF, riffs on popular culture and viral videos that are created, discovered and shared among Internet users.

The initial purpose of creating memes was a form of visual entertainment that online communities,such as 4chan and 9GAG, used to deliver humour and sarcasm. One of the significant internet memes is “LOLcat”, the combination of LOL (laugh out loud) and cat. It typically looked like this:

However, with the widespread and growing popularity of Internet Meme among internet users, it has gradually become a necessary part of commercialization online. Indeed, the effect of digital media has been providing many possibilities for big companies, not only to entertain their audiences, but also to pique users’ interests, facilitate discussions and share on social media, increase brand recall, raise brand awareness and also increase the click-through rates.

One of the most significant Internet phenomena was “All your base are belong to us” a meme that forested from broken English translated opening cutscene of the 1989 arcade shooter game Zero Wing. Within a day, the phrase became one of the most request term on internet search engines across the world. Soon, street signs, restaurant awnings, cinema fronts, advertising, cartoons, T-shirt, tattoos, golf balls inserted into turtles, all bearing this new phrase (Johnston,2001).

Due to the rapid development of the Internet today, different memes have proliferated and then disappeared within a very short period of time, almost all meme generations have emerged as “zero-wing” memes. More details shown in the video:

youtube

As a highly postmodern tendency, a meme has become the symbolic culture of meta-imitation and self-parody that exist in our daily life. Despite many reports having to explain the meme culture to the public, such as the real meaning behind arson frog and “OK boomer”, and constant worry among the scientists that meme may desaturate the traditional culture and ethics (Grimes,2010), but who cares?

I mean, for ironic or commercial purposes, or to be seen as a “weird” approach by other generations, the only reason behind the popularity of memetic culture is that it entertains us and we enjoy it.

Words: 510

Reference:

Chen, C. (2012). The Creation and Meaning of Internet Meme in 4chan: Popular Internet Culture in the Age of Online Digital Reproduction. HABITUS. P7-19.

Dawkins, R. (1989). The selfish gene. Oxford University Press, USA. P192-195.

Grime, T. C. (2010), The world is out of control: Nimrod Antal’s Komtroll (2003) as a socio-political critique of powerless individual in a postmodern world, Studies in European Cinema7:3, pp.235-245, doi:10.1386/seci.7.3.235_1

Johnston, R. (2001 February 28). All your base… The Guardian. Retrieved from: https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2001/feb/28/internetnews.g2 [22 May 2020]

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foilfreak · 3 years ago

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(LOL JK, I WROTE BOTH CHAPTERS IN LIKE 4 HOURS. NOW BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAM!) Beauty and Her Beast: Chapter 6

WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(AO3 link posted in comments below)

“SALLY!!!” Angie greets in a cheerfully aggressive way, flying out from nowhere and knocking Salvatore to the ground as he heaves his way up the path toward the Beneviento estate.

“G-good evening… A-Angie… is D-Donna… home? I-I’d like to… t-to speak w-with her” Salvatore asks, somehow not even surprised by the fact that he was currently looking up at the darkening sky as the spastic porcelain doll his sister communicated through frantically flew in circles around him, like a small child who’d been given too much candy all at once.

“Hahaha, ya, she’s here. We saw you coming up the hill, so she should be waiting for you inside” Angie answers, giggling to herself as she slowly levitates up into the air, staring at Salvatore all the while. “This better be worth our time, Sally-boy, or you’ll owe us a huge favor, you got it?” The matrimonially dressed doll croons before frantically taking off toward the house without waiting to see if Salvatore was following, laughing maniacally all the while.

“I-I’ll k-keep that in m-mind…” Salvatore mumbles under his breath, flipping himself upright from the prone position in which he’d landed on his back. Picking himself off the ground, Salvatore took a deep breath, hoping that Donna was in a good enough mood to give him what he needed, before finally following after Angie.

“DONNA! SALLY’S COME FOR A VISIT. I DON’T KNOW WHY, THOUGH!” is what Salvatore hears Angie scream just as he hobbles through the front door of the estate, the Beneviento home looking just as dark and empty, save for all the doll’s of course, as the last time he was here.

“Tores,” Donna greets simply, appearing out of nowhere behind the hooded man, much like her doll had done just moments earlier.

“D-Donna! Y-you’re looking w-well” Salvatore greets back, fiddling nervously in front of the younger woman, his inability to read her expression due to the presence of her black veil causing the deformed man to sweat anxiously, despite both Angie and Donna’s use of their familiar nicknames for him. “How a-are you d-doing? H-have you m-met… your g-gift yet?”

“I have” the veiled woman answers simply, after a long moment of silence, turning her gaze to the other room, where some ornate chairs, a coffee table, and a couch sit in close proximity to one another, creating a delightfully cozy area to host party guests, if such things were to ever actually grace a house such as the Beneviento’s. Currently the only thing the sitting area hosted was a tall, grim looking man, dressed entirely in black, with a pale, gaunt face, and long, unkempt black hair that fell gracefully upon his sleeping face.

“All he’s done since he got here a few hours ago is sleep and stare off into space” Angie whispers quietly to Salvatore. “Donna says he’s just resting and adjusting to being out of the pod for an extended period of time, but I'm starting to think he might just be brain dead.”

“I take it you have met your gift as well?” Donna says suddenly, regaining Salvatore’s attention just as she motions for the deformed man to follow her out of the room and away from the still-sleeping man in the other room.

“U-uuuuuh… y-yes… yes I’ve m-met mine… th-that’s… actually th-the reason w-why I’m… h-here…” Salvatore stutters nervously, as he hobbles behind the younger woman, struggling to keep up as Donna effortlessly floats through the confusing maze of the Beneviento estate.

“Hahaha, keep up, ugly, or I’ll make you test one of my puzzles before entertaining your little request” Angie giggles sadistically as she flies past Salvatore’s shoulder and zooms down the hallway to the left. Hoping that Donna wasn’t purposefully trying to trick him so that Angie could make good on her threat, Salvatore books it down the hall, breathing a sigh of relief when he catches up with Donna just as the funeral clad woman enters her personal quarters.

“I’m sorry for the sudden change in location, but I wanted to give your concerns my full attention without fear of waking Antxon from his slumber” Donna apologized once Salvatore had closed the door to her workshop behind him, removing her veil from her head and placing the ornate head covering on its designated stand, revealing the large, veiny tumors that grew from her right eye to the deformed man. Smiling kindly at Salvatore as the deformed man removes his hood.

“N-no worries” Salvatore assures, lowering his hood to reveal the array of bulbous growths that grew along the front and back of his neck. “I’m j-just glad you… h-have s-some time to h-help me.”

“Of course, it's not a problem at all, Sal. At least, not after the incredible favor you did for me, it isn’t. I didn’t know what I was going to do when that huge storm we had last year broke parts of the waterfall off and flooded the house. I thought I was about to lose everything all over again before you came in and diverted the water flow back down the opposite side of the cliff. The fact that it’s a little late in the evening means nothing if I can repay you for saving what remains of my home” Donna says kindly, a beautiful smile spreading across her face.

Salvatore giggled and looked away in embarrassment, unused to being praised so heavily, even by Donna, the sweetest and calmest of Salvatore’s younger siblings. But regardless of that fact, yes, it’s true, Salvatore is, in fact, the reason why the Beneviento estate still stands proudly, if a bit dilapidated, on the cliff it had been built upon however many centuries ago by Donna’s ancestors. After a large summer storm knocked out several of the rocks that had previously ensured the waterfall pointed parallel to the house, the flow of water was forced to change due to the presence of a new hole through which water could, and did, flow heavily through.

Donna was practically paralyzed from her hysterical sobbing when Salvatore finally arrived with a potential solution to the slow but agonizing destruction of her childhood home. Angie was all but convulsing madly on the ground just a few feet away, a sickeningly humorous display of the debilitating fear and madness that was flying around inside Donna’s brain at that moment. Shockingly, Salvatore’s potential solution, to open up a new, larger hole on the opposite side of the cliff that would hopefully divert the flow of water away from the Beneviento house, ended up being exactly what was needed to solve the problem.

A couple of powerful swings of the tail of his much larger, much stronger fully-mutated form had the rock on the other side of the cliff falling away like small pebbles, allowing the river water to burst forth from the brand new opening. The hole through which water had been escaping onto Donna’s property slowly drained itself of water before stopping altogether, the waterfall having been successfully diverted to the opposite side of the cliff side, saving the Beneviento home from previously certain destruction.

If it weren’t for how understandably distressed and thankful Donna had been due to the results of the situation, Salvatore would have been just a bit annoyed by how frantically she sobbed while insisting upon paying the deformed man back for his kind services. Salvatore didn’t really see the need. He was more than happy to help Donna out with her problem, but he didn’t do it with the intention of getting a favor or payment out of the younger woman. Sure, it would be nice if, because Salvatore did something nice for Donna out of the kindness of his heart, Donna was willing to extend the same kindness to him when he called out for assistance, but that had never been his intention.

He wasn’t Karl, after all.

Regardless, Donna had been insistent that Salvatore may call upon her for whatever he may need in the future, and it would appear as though today was the day that he would be able to take advantage of Donna’s kind offer.

“I-It was n-nothing… I a-assure you… I was… h-happy to do it f-for you… b-but since… y-you offered to d-do something… for m-me… in return f-for what I did… I-I figured I’d… make u-use… of i-it…” Salvatore trails off, hoping he wasn’t imposing too much upon his sister. He knows she said he could ask anything of her, but even someone as talented and powerful as Donna had her limits. The deformed man can only hope that Donna will be able to assist him this time just like she has many times before.

“Of course. What is it that I can do for you? If you’re looking for manual labor of some kind, I’d certainly be willing to lend you as much of a hand as possible, but unfortunately my true skills lie in only a few areas, so I apologize if I prove to not be much help in the long run” Donna says bluntly, though her unintentionally self-deprecating speech is quickly shut down by Salvatore.

“N-no no, not a-at all… I’m w-well aware of… w-where your s-skills lie… and th-that’s why… I’ve c-come to you f-for this” Salvatore explains hurriedly. “I-I need… a dress.”

“A dress?” Donna asks, the rise of her left eyebrow revealing just how much Salvatore’s request had shocked her.

“Y-yes” Salvatore nods his head. “A d-dress… f-for a very beautiful y-young… young woman…” the deformed man says, trailing off as his cheeks begin to burn from outright embarrassment of his own words. How much more desperate and pathetic could he possibly sound?

Donna merely chuckled at the older man’s sudden bashful behavior. “Oh? So you’d like a dress commissioned for your gift would you? Well, isn’t that sweet.”

Salvatore turns away as his whole body burns with shameful embarrassment. Now, it wasn’t as though the deformed man wasn’t comfortable around Donna to talk about these sorts of things, but Salvatore wasn’t nearly as close with Donna as he was with Karl, so a part of the mutant man couldn’t help but wither slightly as the black clad woman’s soft laughs slowly came to a stop.

“Forgive my rudeness, I don’t mean to make you feel bad by laughing at you. I actually think your idea to give your gift a gift of her own is quite smart and charming. Are you looking to woo your gift, Tores?” Donna teases goodnaturedly, using her nickname for him to boot, as she walks over to a nearby drawer and begins pulling out fabrics of various colors and materials, gently placing them all out on the table in the middle of the room for Salvatore to see.

“I-I don’t k-know about… th-that… I th-think I’ll just be h-happy if…i-if we can at l-least… be f-friends.”

“But you would like more?” Donna asks knowingly, smoothing the fabrics out.

Salvatore let's his gaze fall to the floor as he fiddles with the leather bracelet on his left wrist, grimacing as selfishly filthy and domestic thoughts begin to fill the deformed man’s mind, twisted visions of tender embraces, brutal love making, and soft, loving kisses shared in a bed filled with so many children; his children; their children, scattered here, there, and everywhere across the warmth and safety of their nest, filling in every space not currently occupied by either of their parents. Surrounded inside and out by the love of the family he’d never allowed himself to dream of before. Not that Salvatore's sick and disgusting mind could ever come up with an image as pure and wholesome as this one on its own.

“I-I would… I’d l-like… a g-great deal m-more… th-than I’ll p-probably ever b-be worth… b-but I can’t h-help it… she’s just s-so… so… sh-she’s everything I’ve ever w-wanted in life… and s-still someh-how s-so much more… I h-haven’t been able to… t-to stop th-thinking about h-her… since I f-first laid eyes u-upon her… I-I want to g-give her… e-everything… I w-want to be h-her everything… i d-dont know… if it’ll e-ever work… b-but a p-part of me can’t help b-but… can’t help but w-want to try… just t-to see if m-maybe… maybe… i-it could?” Salvatore admits somberly after a few moments of silence.

Donna hums in understanding, remaining silent as she continues to gather up her supplies. After a few more moments of searching, the younger woman finally sits at the large sewing table, turning to Salvatore as she picks up a thick and luxurious looking silk material, dyed the color of bright red blood, a small smile on her face. “Well, if you’re planning on winning your gift’s affections through the use of gifts, then we’d better make sure we make her a gift worth falling in love over, yes?”

Salvatore gasps in excitement as he realizes what Donna’s words really mean. She’ll help him make a dress that he can gift to Nadine!

“O-oh thank you… th-thank you, thank y-you, thank you thank you thank you!” Salvatore praises, grabbing Donna’s hand and shaking it excitedly between them.

Donna chuckles in amused fondness. “But of course! Anything for an older brother as reliable and helpful as you! Now, the actual construction of this dress will, unfortunately, take some time, if you are looking for something fancy and luxurious, that is. There’s also the issue of measurements, as the dress will need to be custom fit to your gift’s unique frame if you want it to look the way it's supposed to. However, if you’re in a rush and would like something to give her today, I could throw something suitable together for just the time being. It won’t be the final version of course, but she'll at least have something to wear while I work on the real dress in secret. Does that sound like an agreeable plan, Tores?” Donna asks, folding her hands in front of her, making her look very professional and serious.

Salvatore nods his head. “Yes, th-that’ll be j-just fine! I’ll l-leave the d-design of the d-dress… u-up to you, D-Donna… I t-trust your e-expertise… h-however if y-you do h-have… something… th-that I could g-give Nadine t-today… then th-that would be a-amazing… as well…”

“Nadine” Donna repeats slowly, smiling again. “What a pretty name that is? Which one is she?”

“Th-the blue one… w-with white… f-freckles… an-and fins.”

“Ah yes, I remember now. Mother Miranda spoke quite poorly of that particular subject. Said she was an absolute menace, if I recall. What do you think of her?” The black clad woman asks, curiously.

Salvatore shrugs his shoulders. “I-I’ve not m-met her officially… yet… I g-got nervous an-and hid… under some c-crates… when she f-first woke up… b-but she seems… surprisingly… m-mild mannered and calm… as f-far as I c-can… as far as I can t-tell.”

“I see” Donna says, “well that sounds interesting. Though… why were you hiding under crates, again?”

“... I-I don’t w-want to talk about i-it” Salvatore mutters softly, the embarrassed heat returning when Donna chuckles at his behavior.

“Oh, don’t worry, Tores, you know I’d never judge you about something like this. Were you afraid she’d hate you when she saw you? Is that why you hid?”

Oh, Donna, sweet, kind, wonderful, omnipotently all-knowing Donna. How Salvatore hated her ability to read him like yesterday’s newspaper.

“M… maybe…” Salvatore hesitantly admits, before a thought crossed his mind.

“W-were… were you… w-wearing your veil… f-for the same r-reason… Donna?” Salvatore asks, realization causing his eyes to grow wide as he looked up at the younger woman, a soft chuckle escaping her in response.

“I suppose you could say that” Donna breathes. “I know my… mutation, isn’t nearly as bad or even life altering as yours were, but… I simply can’t handle the looks of pity, disgust, and fear that the villagers leveled me with whenever I dared leave my home. Not like you can at least.”

“I-I don’t know… i-if I’d call what I-I do… ‘handling’... I-I try to hide m-myself away… j-just as much as y-you do, Donna” Salvatore interjects, taking a step forward and reaching out to take the younger woman’s hand in his own, a comforting gesture is what Salvatore hopes it comes across as.

“I suppose… but at least you feel a sense of comfort and confidence whenever you’ve lured someone into your reservoir. You have the home advantage and are capable of utilizing and manipulating your surroundings to best fit your needs. Whenever someone enters my home however… well, let's just say the comfort of a home field advantage isn’t enough to soothe my mind of the constant worries and anxieties that come with having a total stranger in my home.”

Ah, so that’s what this was about. Salvatore was more than aware of Donna’s uneasy and traumatic upbringing, as well as how much more damage her cadou mutation did to her as well, both physically and mentally. Unlike Karl however, Donna at least had the distinct advantage of being an adult when her mutations took place, but this didn’t really end up doing very much for her in the end, only shoving the already reclusive young woman even further into her grief stricken shell.

It had taken Salvatore no shortage of effort and time to slowly but surely work his way past the hard exterior of Donna’s shell, slowly convincing her to open up until she was comfortable enough around him to both hold a conversation for longer than 5 minutes, as well as take her veil off in his presence, a gesture that Salvatore honored by removing the hood of his cloak as well. Since warming up to him however, Donna has proved to be a valuable, if difficult to get a hold of, figure in Salvatore’s life, and the deformed man was proud to call such a talented and pleasant young woman his younger sister. Even Donna herself would admit to greatly enjoying the times when the deformed man would go out of his way to pay her a visit, if only to sob about the latest romance film he’d watched while she worked on her personal projects.

In the years that they’ve had to get to know each other, Salvatore is proud to say that he’s managed to learn quite a few more personal things about Donna, and one of those things happens to be the fact that Donna hates nothing more in this entire world than random strangers in her house.

“I-Is this… about h-him?” Salvatore asks, knowing Donna knew exactly who he was talking about, despite having turned her head away so the unhooded man couldn’t read her expression.

A gentle squeeze of the hand has Donna talking. “I just… don’t know what to do with him. Mother Miranda gave us these gifts but didn’t tell us what we were supposed to use them for, other than “whatever we want”. But what if I never wanted a gift in the first place? What if I don’t want to have to tiptoe around my own damn home just so that some poor sap doesn’t have the daylights scared out of him the second he sees me?” Donna laments, sighing heavily in frustration and fear. “From what I’ve hear, your gift sounds like an absolute madwoman, so at least you’ll have something interesting to look at even if she rejects you. All mine had done all day is sleep and look like he left his brain behind in the pod. What on earth am I supposed to do with a brain dead body? I might as well give him to Heisenberg as an early birthday present.”

“W-well… I don’t k-know if I have a-any better of a “ch-chance” with my g-gift as a-anyone else… b-but I do th-think that… if you w-want to have a g-good relationship… o-of some k-kind… with y-your gift… then… m-maybe you need… to be th-the one to r-reach out… reach out an-and try and start it… y-yourself… sh-show him th-that you mean… n-no harm… and that you j-just want companionship and a-acceptance… an-and maybe… maybe if h-he wants… the s-same thing… you can… you can m-make something… out of th-that… m-make things w-work out best f-for the both of y-you… i-in whatever w-way works b-best… for the b-both of you… not a-anyone else” Salvatore suggests, feeling like he’s talking entirely out of his ass at the moment, but hoping that Donna, as smart as she was, would be able to get at least something out of his meaningless rambling.

“Hmmm… make things work for us in whatever way works out best for us, huh?” The younger woman asks, though seemingly more to herself than anyone else. “You know what… I think I might just give that a try. Thank you, Tores, you’re always such a wealth of knowledge and wisdom!”

“W-well… I c-certainly do my b-best” Salvatore blushes, rubbing the side of his neck happily as Donna giggles and turns her attention back to the fabrics.

“Alright, well, with that emotional conundrum handled, why don’t we finish our conversation about the dress you’d like to eventually give to your gift. I have a few pieces already made lying around that I'm sure will fit her, I’ll just need to shorten them a tad bit, so I'm not as concerned about what you’ll be giving her today as I am about getting an idea of what you’re looking for in the dress you plan on giving to her in the future” Donna says, breaking back into her serious business mode.

With a nod of his head, Salvatore begins describing to Donna the vision he has in his head, both for the dress as well as how it will fit on Nadine’s uniquely structured body.

“Hmmm, that definitely does sound like a challenge” Donna admits once Salvatore has concluded his explanation, “however, I don’t think it will be so difficult that I won’t be able to do it within the next few weeks.”

“S-so, you’ll d-do it?” Salvatore asks, hopefully.

“Yes, I’ve already said that I’d be more than willing to aid you in whatever you needed, but the fact that you’ve come to me with a problem I can solve with my needle and threat just makes me excited to start working. I hope its to your liking once its finally finished!”

“Oh, t-trust me, Donna... I k-know both N-Nadine and I… will be v-very pleased… with th-this dress… once i-its finally f-finished,” Salvatore assures as Donna leads him out the front door of the Beneviento estate, their conversation having concluded and Salvatore still in need of something to go along with the gorgeously pristine white satin nightgown that Donna had given him to gift Nadine until her real dress was ready.

“Well, I certainly hope so,” Donna says kindly. “I’ll do my very best on it, you can rest assured about that, at least. Anyways, I won’t keep you much longer, since you still have quite the night ahead of you it seems. At least, if you’re planning on heading up to see her too, you will.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Salvatore nods his head solemnly. “Y-yes… I am s-still planning on g-going up to see… Alcina… just to see i-if she has… anything else… I c-could possibly g-give Nadine.”

“Whatever it is, you’ll have to pry it from her like an old rotting tooth, I imagine” Donna comments quietly.

“I-Im afraid you m-might be… b-be right about th-that one” Salvatore laments, though the thought of surprising Nadine with an even more incredible gift than just the satin nightgown filled him with a sudden inexplicable feeling of determination, as though nothing in the world could stop him so long as he had his beautiful Nadine to return to.

“B-but anyways… I w-wont take up… any more of y-your time… th-thank you, Donna… you h-have no idea… how m-much this means to m-me” Salvatore thanks as he begins heading back down the hill.

“You’re welcome, Tores. And who knows, perhaps one day… if things with both our gifts turn out well… we could all get together and share a meal… all of us together?” The black clad woman asks, her hope and apprehension for what the future may hold plain as day in her voice.

Salvatore merely smiles as the younger woman. “I w-would enjoy that g-greatly, Donna… an-and Nadine would a-as well, I think… let’s t-try and… and set s-something up… for after w-we’ve all been g-given some time… to a-adjust to our n-new living s-situations?”

“I think that sounds wonderful, Tores. Have a safe journey, and do let me know if Alcina could please return my large mannequin. Those things are a pain to make myself and yet she never remembers to send them back after she commissions a new dress.”

“Don’t w-worry, Donna” Salvatore chuckles as he hobbles away, beginning to make the rest of the journey toward Castle Dimitrescu along the still-snowy village paths, “I’ll be s-sure to let her k-know!”

“BYE, SALLY! SEE YOU NEXT TIME!” Angie all but screeches as she flies past Donna and crashes into something inside. Salvatore chuckles when he hears the audible sigh from Donna, knowing that she’s about to have her hands more than full, even without her gift factored into the equation.

Oh well... at least it would make for a funny story to hear about later!

So long as Donna survived the whole ordeal, that is.

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