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medusas-musings · 1 year ago

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Coffee's for (Elevator) Closers

(A/N) First fanfic on Tumblr! If you have any requests for one shots, feel free to message me, I'll come out with a list of what I write for soon! Also Gif not mine 🖤

As I walk down the crowded and unforgiving streets of New York, I curse myself for not leaving 5 minutes earlier to get this coffee run in time for the shoot today. My shoes barely graze the street as I do my best to push through the crowd and reach the building we’re supposed to film in today. I stop in front of the skyscraper, and I double check the address before turning around to use my back to push through the doors and feel the weather change from the cold streets of Staten to the warmth of a heater. My lungs take a breather as I stop in front of the double elevators with a socially acceptable distance from the only other person also waiting for a lift. I find less anxiety clouding my mind now that there’s someone else most likely getting to set as late as I am. I take a glance to my side to notice that it’s one of the guys starring in today’s shoot. My knowledge on the show and who they were was very limited; If I never got a job as an assistant, I would’ve never even heard his name, nevermind seeing him in person. The doors shift to open and I see him look up from his phone, and gesture it forward in a motion applying the gentleman’s value of “ladies first”. I give a nod and a small smile in return and I assume that’ll be the most of our conversation as I enter the elevator and put my back as firmly as I can to the rail. Normally, I would be gripping both hands onto whatever I can stabilize myself in whatever way possible, trying to stifle the irrational fear in my head. The least I can say is that moving to a big city can certainly become exposure therapy for a fear of heights and elevators.

However, it turns out my worst fears would only become realized as I suddenly jolted forward, doing my best to recover my balance and spill the least amount of coffee possible. My pulse quickens as I can’t feel the inertia of moving up or down gives me, which only strengthens my fear worse. A curse escapes my lips, as I put the trays of drinks into a corner and go over to the panel, pressing any button I can. While I want to believe one of these will be the magic answer to getting out of this hellbox, but I was then gently set me aside to accept the fact we were stuck by the man I shared the space with. “Here, hon, I got this.” He murmured, then hit a button with a phone icon above it, one I thought I’d never have a use for it. Even in the state I was in, I didn’t let how attractive the simple gesture was. In a moment, another voice came through the speaker, and the shaggy-haired man explained the situation to them; it’s as if he wasn’t freaked out but I couldn’t help but feel my hands shake and my breathing quicken.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He said, making sure his tone was tender. I looked up, remembering his name–Well, nickname–Q. Seeing him on set, he seemed so much more intimidating to talk to, so unapproachable. Right now though, I could tell he was doing everything he could to keep the young woman in front of him from having a breakdown. “Don’t worry, I used to be a firefighter, you’re in good hands. Just breathe” His deep brown eyes pierced into mine, making me have to keep my gaze to my shoes half the time he was calming me down. I caught a glimpse of his chest raising and did my best to mimic the rhythm, my lungs filling with stale elevator air.

My heart can’t stop beating regardless of how much calmer I felt in the predicament we were in. What set in for me was the fact that this was the man I not only worked under, but I would catch glances at while I ran around him, like a small treat to my workday. I couldn’t deny that this was a guy I had a bit of a “workplace crush” on, but I didn’t think I would ever be so close to him, let alone being alone together. My brain finally registers a comprehensive thought in my daze of anxiety, and I turn around and kneel in front of the coffees, scanning the orders until I pull out a plain black I hand over to Q. “Here,” I say. “At least someone should be able to get their drink on time.” I continue, hoping to bring a little less tension to…well, everything.

He gives me a chuckle as he takes the cup from me, our hands grazing just barely. Even in that small moment, I could feel how small my hand felt next to his. “I appreciate the speedy delivery, Miss…”

I tell him my name, filling in the gap of his sentence. “I’m one of y’all’s assistants today. Shit, I’m gonna get chewed out for getting there so late.”

“You’ll be alright, Sweetheart, I won’t let ya get in any trouble.” Q reassures me. The comfort he’s supplying me as well as the slight display of power both send a shiver down my spine. “All I want you to worry about is keeping calm, alright?” His eyes keep mine in such a gentle glance. I can’t help myself when I feel the heat in my cheeks rise.

“Thanks.” There’s a pause in the air as I let out a small chuckle. “I really didn’t expect to talk to you more than just getting your lunch order later.” I grasp at anything I can grasp for a conversation. Hell, if I’m gonna be stuck in a closed place with my attractive boss, I’m gonna make the most of the opportunity.

Q took a swig of his coffee before a slight smirk crept onto his face. “Well, I guess it’s one way to meet the cute coworker.”

My brows furrowed and my mouth became agape, as if I was going to say something but nothing came out. After my brain finishes rebooting from the shock. “Is this a way to get my mind off being stuck in an elevator?” I ask, a slight smile occurring on my face. It doesn’t feel like a real thing that happened, as if this was some nightmare turned lucid dream.

“A little.” he shrugs, taking another drink of his coffee. “But it’s not a lie. I’ve seen you around, I’ve been meaning to find a way to introduce myself. But when I finally get a break, you’re usually busy so…” Q trails off as he keeps his eye contact. It was astonishing how honest he could be with me without a hint of fear. You couldn’t pry information like that out of me if you tried. “Well, guess the universe helped you out.” I brush my hair out of my face, trying to mimic his levels of confidence. “So tell me, if you ever did have a chance to talk to me, what was the game plan?” Q lets out a hearty chuckle. “You realize 90% of the show is excuses to talk to strangers? The actual excuse to approach you would be easy. Like the coffee.” Q pointed to the tray. “I could make up some bullshit about saying my coffee tasted wrong then go with you to replace it. Probably buy you something too as a thank you.” My eyebrows raise, an amused smile spreading on my face.

“Impressive, I can tell you're a professional.” I say. “If we’re being honest here, I also thought you’re kinda cute too. I just figured it wouldn’t be anything…” I trail off, searching for the right words. “… realistic?”

“If I’m being honest, I have caught you staring once or twice. It’s the only reason I would lay it on so heavy.” I looked down with a smile on my face, slightly embarrassed, but enjoying the teasing words.

Before I could reply, we could hear a commotion on the other side of the door; the technician was here to help, prying the doors open with a crowbar. As we get out, I take my coffee trays from the elevator. “Hey.” I turn around to see Q standing over me. “Let me help you with that.” He takes the second tray from my hands, allowing me to feel so much more stable. I thank him and we go up a flight of stairs together, making small talk as he holds each door open for me. We get to set, and we place the coffees onto the table. No one bothers to fuss about coffee being late since Q walked in with me, a shield for any higher ups to take their drink instead of nagging me.

Before I could walk away to check what else I have to do, Q gently grabs my shoulder to get my attention. He has his phone in his hand, pointed towards me on a ‘new contact’ page. “Hey, I’d love to get your number, maybe plan something that isn’t in a 5 by 5 square foot box.” Q’s eyes look nervous while his smirk tries to give off the impression he’s as cool as a cucumber. Biting my bottom lip to keep myself from smiling like an idiot, I take the phone from his hands. I put my number and name into his phone, but I can’t resist putting a green heart and an elevator emoji next to my name as a little inside joke. I give the phone back to him and he smiles at the name I used. “Thanks, I’ll see you around” Q concludes, waving to me with his phone in his hands before joining his co-stars.

I smile as I walk away, and I feel my phone buzz with a notification.

(New Number): Nice to meet you! And be your hero from that elevator encounter ;)

I quickly add the new number to my phone, knowing this isn’t a number I want to lose anytime soon. I may have to take the stairs for the rest of my life now, but at least I got to score a date with my hot boss.

#impractical jokers #brian quinn #brian quinn x reader #Brian Quinn x reader one shot #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #Impractical Jokers fanfiction #Reader insert #Brian Quinn x you #Brian Quinn/you

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swallowerofdharma · 9 months ago

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Over Casca’s naked body

Part one: A long premise

We can’t escape from our geopolitical context even when we are reading manga. We have internalized a good amount of beliefs, values, practices, even regulations from our lived experiences and various simulacra we have been exposed to, especially those in an audiovisual form.

If you grew up in the US, you know that freedom of speech is a core value there. But, while you can say mostly whatever you want within your own country, the US constitution has given the government the right to regulate what comes in from abroad. [1]

And that power has been used. Idealistically, greater access to common technologies even before the internet should have seen a redistribution of the media-creating capacity to many foreign countries outside of the US, so that people could tell their stories. But that hasn’t always been the case, with some exceptions, especially if we consider the biggest narratives that reached global popularity.

During the Cold War, anything that might be considered “communist propaganda” could be seized by the Post Office and never delivered. Books or even souvenirs from communist countries, for instance. Pamphlets criticizing US foreign policy. (…) Obviously it wasn’t totally like North Korea, plenty of foreign movies and music were allowed into the US. But the media that caught on was either already Americanized, or so plastically exotic that it doesn’t really say anything about the culture where it is from. The Beatles were British, but they got their start covering American rock and roll musicians. When John Lennon stepped out of the line, the American government made sure that he knew it. Movies imported from Japan were mostly samurai flicks, with very few movies set in the modern day. The film Ikiru is widely considered the best Japanese film ever made (…) but this existential drama about a depressed lonely man was only given a limited release in California, and the poster was edited to feature a stripper who is only in the movie for one minute. The narrow stream of European movies that made into the USA came in the form of the French New Wave cinema, movies that were stylistically inspired by American films, but also so stuffy that few audiences would ever want to watch them anyway. This was further stifled by the Hays Code, a set of extremely strict regulations that were in place from 1934 to 1968. (…) Some things that were completely banned from ever being shown in any film included: bad guys winning. All movies must end with the police outwitting the evil criminals, or the criminals causing their own demise. Any nudity. (…) Blood or dead bodies. (…) Interracial couples. White people as slaves. Criticism of religion, or of any other country. Naturally this prevented the more artistically liberal European films from being shown in American cinemas and when they did get a release, they were usually edited (…). At least until the rules were abolished in 1968 and replaced by the age rating system we have today. [1]

Even after several decades of access to the internet and foreign cultures, some attitudes have been internalized and carried on. For example, I had direct experience of the ways my own culture has been perceived and stereotyped or interpreted in terms not dissimilar from the exotic. And the same happens to me probably if I don’t keep in check my own personal beliefs about cultures that have been presented to me in similar ways. And I was surprised to see by how deeply rooted and spread are certain attitudes towards punishment or violent retribution viewed as necessary, the policing and self policing, and the expression of judgments or condemnation, and all this can complicate the understanding of different forms of narratives and the acceptance of different cultural attitudes and norms, without the expression of any opinion about morality or legitimacy.

I am reminding you that this is a long premise because I evidently don’t have the gift of brevity but this article is about Berserk and Casca.

In 1956 Anna Magnani won the Academy Award for Best Actress for her first English-speaking role in the American movie The Rose Tattoo. In 1958 Miyoshi Umeki was the first Asian born actress to win an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress in Sayonara, a movie that despite its title was an American drama starring Marlon Brando. It isn’t hard to see in these decisions from the Academy, or the ones that followed in other categories, the willingness to build relationships between the US and specific foreign countries where the American army had a massive presence and that after WWII were ideal places for American investors, considering significant rebuilding necessary after the loss in the war. The movie industry and everything around it had instrumental roles. When it comes to the Academy Award, it is very interesting to notice that the women were the first ones to be nominated, becoming ambassadors and facilitators of the reshaping of the images of Italy and Japan from enemies to new essential strategic allies in the Cold War. And here comes the problem of the exotic, because after several decades I still see similarities in the American perception of those foreign cultures, Italian and Japanese, to those easy and friendly and intentionally constructed imaginaries of that time. Take the press around Anna Magnani or Miyoshi Umeki for example. Terms are so widely used and repeated that they are still in their Wikipedia pages in English today. For what interests me here, I am going to quote or summarize parts of the video essay listed below as [2] but I really recommend watching it entirely. It really helped me understand some of the issues I am talking about here, but it is much more than just this. And there is footage worth the time. [I know that many people here on tumblr really dislike YouTube videos. I understand why, when it comes to manga and anime, written articles have still better quality and content, in my opinion, but there are also many video essayists doing their due diligence on several other topics. And when I am busy cooking I put them on].

In the 1950s one of the problem with the new alliance with Japan was the widespread hate and racism towards Japanese people.

The government stepped in, producing educational films meant to endear Japanese culture to Americans (…) They showed off Japanese industry, introduced Americans to sushi and sumo wrestling, explained the country’s new democratic system et cetera. (…) A lot of [musical] acts that were popular with American soldiers, specifically exoticized Asian girls bands, like the Kim sisters and the Tokyo Happycoats, come over to the US and appear on television as both entertainment and a sort of cultural ambassadors, not only demonstrating America’s cultural power and dominance by performing recognizable American tunes, but also signaling to white Americans that those cultures didn’t pose a threat. (…)

It’s worth looking at this film [Sayonara] as part of a larger theme in a very specific post war moment. Gina Marchetti points out in her book Romance and the yellow peril: «Between June 22, 1947, and December 31, 1952, 10517 American citizens, principally Armed Services Personnel, married Japanese women. Over 75% of the total Americans are Caucasian». Meaning, Japanese war brides and the concept of interracial marriages was very much a conversation. (…) Sayonara must be seen as one of many films which called for a new evaluation of Japan as an enemy nation. (…) Much of the way [Miyoshi Umeki] was discussed is probably exactly how you might expect. The language journalists used to describe her was unambiguously racialized and often condescending. In the aftermath of her Oscar win, for example, Louella Parsons called her «a lovely little bit of Japanese porcelain», adding: «What a cute little thing she was in her native costume». Still, her Japanese identity also seemed to serve as a symbol, an embodiment of the new friendly Japan. In Miyoshi, Americans would find an idealized portrait of reconciliation, a woman who bore no resentment over the war, a woman who brought homesick American troops to tears by singing White Christmas, who adored American pizza, who learned English by listening to American records. She was accepted because she actively appreciated and participated in American culture. [2]

The roles offered to Miyoshi Umeki are significant in many ways. After Sayonara, she was cast to play other Asian characters besides Japanese ones. One recurring theme in those movies in particular is the contrast between modernity and tradition.

William G. Hyland writes, Flower Drum Song is a «clash between the Americanized lifestyle of the young Chinese and the traditions of their parents». (…) Miyoshi Umeki plays Mei Lee, a Chinese stowaway who arrives in the US for an arranged marriage. The more Americanized she becomes the more independent, the more willing she is to strike out on her own. [Chang-Hee] Kim writes: «[Flower Drum Song] flamboyantly shows that Asians in America were ready and willing to cast off their heritage and become real Americans in repudiation of the pre-war racial consideration of Asians as permanent aliens». I mention this not only because it’s one of Miyoshi’s major roles, but also because this theme, a supposed enlightenment via westernization, occurs again and again in her filmography, particularly in her work on television. Han [?] writes «Umeki’s representation on television is in constant oscillation between her status as a subservient Asian woman and her transformation into an assertive, modern female professional who has achieved independence through American cultural influence». [2]

Bear with me for a little longer if you can, because we are at the point where, watching the video, I experienced that sensation better translated visually in a lightbulb being turned on. I am skipping here the presentation of the story and footage from Miyoshi’s first appearance on television in The Donna Reed Show, but I once again invite readers to watch the video, which features high quality original footage. I was really struck by the “sensitive way” the American woman - Donna Reed I presumed - approaches the character played by Miyoshi, as the writers back then were well aware of the sensitive racial implications, and nevertheless a certain mentality pushes thought. Watching still, it is easier to avoid the presumption that in the 1960s “they didn’t know better” or that contemporary attitudes have improved greatly, just because we are more careful about the language we use.

The thesis statement of this episode is not subtle. The rejection of traditional Japanese customs allows her to live more fully in a democracy. Of course it isn’t really much of a choice, is it. Maintaining the customs of your culture or risking alienating your entire community. She changes her clothes, puts on a hat and goes shopping because she is an American now. Obviously these stories are told from the white American perspective, where this rejection of tradition and culture is portrayed as unambiguously positive and relatively tension free. This was not the case in Japan where the relationship between modernity and tradition were richly explored in cinema, particularly in women’s films. [2]

I would like to add that the independence that Donna’s character shows is only possible because of a series of factors, including the fact that her husband secures her a higher level of comforts, in comparison with lower classes or non-white Americans, and that domestic work is presumably done by home electrical appliances or other women, especially when you add child care and looking after the elderly to the equation. The unwillingness to consider those types of labor, traditionally carried on by women, as of equal importance to any other jobs is rarely discussed when it comes to the issue of women’s emancipation. Not to mention how, alongside this idyllic world shown on television, in the same country large numbers of women have to deal with continuous push backs in the name of different traditional values that all the same prevent many of them from achieving true equality. Those types of conversation and conflicts between traditional and modern happens at the same time in many countries and in most cases translates to continuous negotiations and compromises carried by men and women in real contexts and real situations, without necessarily white American women being aware of it or of all the necessary nuances.

Let me add this last element of conclusion about Miyoshi Umeki’s story.

In 2018 her son told Entertainment Weekly that in the 1970s she etched out her name on her Oscar and then threw the trophy away. Although he isn’t sure exactly why she did it he said: «She told me, I know who I am and I know what I did. It was a point of hers to teach me a lesson that the material things are not who she was». What Miyoshi Umeki achieved is pretty remarkable but one can’t help but feel that she could probably have done a lot more if she’d been allowed to move beyond her identity. [2]

Part two: Are we reading the same manga?

After considering all this, and more that I can possibly include in here to avoid this being even lengthier, I can’t help but wonder about the generalizations I have seen repeated vastly about portrayals of women in Japanese media, as well as misunderstanding of cultural attitudes towards nudity or the treatment of sensitive topics like sexuality and rape. There is a diffuse certain sense of entitlement, sometimes you can hear a condescending tone even, and this isn’t limited to the US. But why approach a foreign culture with a patronizing attitude instead of trying to understand the context more deeply? So many manga readers are willing to ask for clarification on translations, but not many ask about the context or the visual aspects involved in manga writing. I like to read analysis about different topics, so I look for them in English too because they are very numerous and easily accessible, but when it comes to the critique about the portrayal of women in too many cases I have to click away because of too many bias or that subtle sense of superiority of judgment. Berserk has become easily accessible and more and more popular but it is so greatly misunderstood at various degrees by a lot of its western readers - me included - and I really wanted to understand what is preventing, in most cases, a textual and contextual analysis.

The Hays Code hasn’t been around since 1968 but the sentiment that the only proper conclusion for every story is the triumph of the good guys and the punishment for the wicked is very much alive and well. There is this conviction that the only clever readers are those able to separate the heroes from the villains, or the good deeds from evil, and root for the right side to achieve retribution and satisfaction. The Hays Code hasn’t been enforced officially but it’s there in essence and every counter narrative has been rendered almost ineffective or judged poorly. As for the treatment of women, I don’t feel like we can honestly and surely compare or scrutinize Japanese media under special lenses. Nudity in comic books seems to me to be very common outside of Japan too, depending on censorship rules. I certainly notice how frequently Casca is shown naked or has been threatened with sexual violence, but I also notice that she isn’t the only one. The exaggeration of Guts’ muscles and the mutilation of his body are largely put on display. Griffith is intentionally shown fully naked, or completely covered by an elaborate armor, and he is subjected to many threats of physical and sexual violence as well. Charlotte is shown naked, but always in her bedroom, in a private environment or with a transparent cloth or a sheet of some kind to make her nudity different from the occasions when Casca’s body is publicly displayed. I am careful with my own thoughts when I read Berserk, I take the time to analyze my reactions and what I am feeling in these situations. I think that this is the reason that certain books or media are intentionally aimed to adults. I don’t feel a necessity to call to censorship or to give guidance of a moral kind but rather to make the necessary reflections. And I can’t imagine how someone can understand the story without taking their time with it. Part three: Casca’s rape

In 1973 the animation studio Mushi Production released a film called Belladonna of Sadness. I haven’t seen it yet but I know a little about it and I am planning to watch it when I feel like I can do it without being affected in a bad way. It is well known that Miura remembered this film when he designed the Eclipse. In 1975 Pier Paolo Pasolini directed the film Salò or the 120 Days of Sodom, which I strongly don’t recommend to the casual viewer or anyone who felt even slightly offended by Berserk. Suffice to say that in a particular political climate and in the context of the sexual revolution of the late 1960s, in the 1970s nudity and sexuality were at the forefront of the debate and human bodies were exhibited in a symbolic way that can be misunderstood today without knowledge of the context. Gender expression was questioned and men grew their hair or refused to wear suits or to follow rigid dress codes regardless of their sexual orientation. Sexual acts were considered political acts in ways that aren’t comparable with today for many reasons. The languages, the words and the visuals we use are ever changing and actual for a moment and gone the next one or misunderstood. Many words used by queer people in the 1970s wouldn’t be received well today, because the context has been transformed. For what I understand, in films like Belladonna of Sadness and Salò rape and cruelty are preeminently used as symbols because rape and cruelty presented in a direct visual form effect greatly any type of audience and can’t go unnoticed. The sociopolitical climate in the 1970s, in the middle of the Cold War, was particularly violent, both in Italy and Japan, and the art of the time can be remarkably bleak. [Go Nagai’s Devilman was published between 1972 and 1973, Osamu Tezuka’s MW was published between 1976 and 1978, Takemiya Keiko’s Kaze to Ki no Uta was also published between 1976 and 1984].

Kentarō Miura was born in 1966, he breathed the air and grew up in that same climate and was influenced and informed by it, especially later, when he finds himself as a young man in the renewed bleakness of the 1990s. It is likely that he saw Belladonna of Sadness when he was old enough, when he started to develop the story of Berserk, and after being greatly influenced by Nagai’s Devilman. The number of sources of inspirations that Miura used for Berserk is vast, varied and multidimensional and includes books and novels and films of various genres (historical, fantasy, horror, sci-fi in particular) manga, foreign comics books, and traditional art. It is often pointed out among fans that he was also a big fan of Star Wars. Pop Culture Detective released a very interesting video essay called Predatory Romance in Harrison Ford Movies [3] that brought to my attention many things that I didn’t notice or thought about when I was seeing those films myself as a young girl [I am more or less a decade younger than Miura fyi]. Analyzing Star Wars, Indiana Jones or Blade Runner with particular attention to the relationship between the male lead, Ford, and women is an interesting exercise and helps to re-contextualize our judgment about the treatment of women across different media with arguably less reach than Star Wars. I am not inviting anyone to make comparisons and ranking which is better, or absolve Miura because he was influenced by the context around him as everyone else, but I am asking to let go of the presumption that Japanese media in particular presents problematic attitudes towards women by default. The problems are much more generalized than we’d probably like. Better analysis or methodologies are needed to make a proper assessment, and we really shouldn’t assume by default that manga (for boys and men) equals bad treatment of women.

I hope that someone is still reading after such a long time. I didn’t know how to make my point on Casca without at least presenting some of these considerations. I must say I have understood myself better, having questioned why I was feeling uncomfortable when reading Casca but not offended. I understood that Miura wanted me to feel that way, uncomfortable, horrified, and I can appreciate Berserk better [in particular as a person that wasn’t permitted to live in a female body without a certain type of violence].

As stated previously, I noticed that Casca is more exposed and shown in all her vulnerability in much extreme situations: to multiple men in very public displays, like on the battlefield or at the center of the circle of Apostles in the Eclipse. She is also shown naked and vulnerable in other moments, especially alone with Guts. Those intimate moments with Guts, during the Golden Age, are instrumental for the readers to see her in all her humanity, without the armor, or the female dress, in order to build an emotional connection with her. In the cave, Casca makes herself emotionally vulnerable in front of Guts for the first time and tells him her story, exposing her past, her goals and her true self. She tells him things about Grittith too, things that are meant to show Guts/the readers Griffith as much naked, vulnerable and human as she is. Let’s pay attention and try to recollect Guts’ reactions to her story: he is listening to her, but he is embarrassed, distracted and attracted by her nudity and he fails to see Griffith as a human being, potentially fallible and not much different from Casca or himself. Guts also fails to take away from the story the original message, something more than Casca’s infatuation with Griffith as part of her being a woman. Comparing Guts’ reactions to Casca’s nakedness, his recollections or focus on the conversation, what he takes from it and what he doesn’t: a big part of the male readership of Berserk is probably in his same situation. It isn’t till later by the waterfall, that we see Casca alone with Guts again in an intimate way. This time he is naked and vulnerable and completely exposed too. This time through the physical connection between the two, within the sexual act, Guts can’t hide himself anymore, can’t deflect from his past and his fears. I assume that that is an important moment for the male readership to start to feel emotionally invested in the connection between Guts and Casca. That emotional connection and the investment in the relationship helps them to see Casca as a human being through the Eclipse and if that didn’t work then they still can see and feel the horror of the rape of Casca through Guts. Because Miura didn’t want anyone to enjoy that scene or to be sexually aroused without at least the horror and the moral objection to it.

Casca is a woman of color, born in a disadvantaged family and community, that ended up in a mercenary group without achieving the things she wanted, never fully belonging and constantly threatened by groups of men on the enemy side with forms of violence specifically targeted and unnecessary cruel. And everything she goes through culminates or goes back to the Eclipse - before and after - and that should be taken as completely symbolic. Like the multiple instances of rape in Pasolini’s Salò, the innocent, poor and exploitable youth is violated by those in power or those who are in charge. Gambino decides that Guts is expendable or due a lesson in humility, he takes the money and coldly facilitates Guts’ rape. Gennon is rich and powerful and pretends to recreate his fantasy, a sick version of Greek ped*philia. And all he does is using money and power to horrifically exploit the youth and Griffith offers himself up and loses a fundamental part of himself in the process. But the most cruel thing in Berserk is Griffith surrendering to the call of power and doing the same thing to Casca, in the absence of lust or desire: the corruption that has been in him - and has reached Guts as well - has spread. Griffith’s surrender to the call of power, and his intolerance for more of his own pain, silences all empathy in him.

In conclusion, nudity has various narrative functions, beside the suggestion of the erotic: through each character’s naked body, male or female, we see their vulnerability and their fundamental humanity [and if I remember correctly in contrast the rapists are always dressed or covered]. And rape has a symbolic meaning, beside the literal one and the psychological exploration of trauma. Violence but in particular sexual violence is one of the most estreme and powerful tools that can be used in stories [especially in visual media], but unfortunately the overuse of it in an edulcorate format, or as a tease, or devoid of any meaning, has ceased to call for disgust and challenge us to think, has perhaps lessen the impact and the gravity around it. In the 1970s Pasolini saw the dark side of the sexual revolution and how the rich and powerful were willing to build economic empires just to have access to the youth and to the most beautiful women. But he wasn’t the only one. We should reconsider Belladonna of Sadness and the original meaning of those themes in films or later in manga like Berserk and think about it deeply and seriously and not approach every piece of art as entertainment.

Videography:

How America got so Stupid [1]

Miyoshi Umeki: The First East Asian Woman to Win an Acting Oscar [2]

Predatory Romance in Harrison Ford Movies [3]

#berserk meta #casca berserk #manga analysis #this is so long is embarrassing #today we have largely divorced the aesthetic from the political and we look at the last century and don’t fully understand it #editing when I catch a mistake or a misspelled word #eri reads berserk

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twonutsinatrenchcoat · 6 months ago

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To those who care or would like to know, which I feel is a non-zero amount considering the amount of adorable little horndogs and y/n girlies on this accursed app (I say this affectionately, I hope all of you have fairy tale endings. Happy ones), I will share this story because it simply must be shared.

For context, ah for Context, I made the regrettable mistake at the beginning of last year to join the army. Not really, no, I’m an art student, what would I be doing with the US military? Graphic design work? Tank simulations? No, silly, I want to work in children’s television.

Anyways, due to this..situation, I spent my first semester of college completely surrounded by extremely fit guys who were also very wonderful and relatively put together and such. You know, the kind of depressed where they were still functional and also surprisingly emotionally intelligent. Very sweet. The kind that would be considered prime marriage material. I assume.

Also completely off limits. For a couple of reasons, I would never date any of these people. (Well, I did date one, but that’s a different story.)

At the end of the semester, I left but not completely, because I was still on the housing contract, so I thought “might as well stay, I don’t have the adulting skills to manage a move nor do I find it economically efficient”, so I found myself in the unusual situation of living on the top floor of a dorm filled to the brim with hot military guys. (Or they would be considered hot. I don’t classify people that way.) Who were no longer off limits.

From my little rapunzel tower window, I could see them working out in the mornings when I checked the temperature. I woke up to the bugling and fell asleep to taps and all that. I chatted them up in the laundry room. We opened doors for eachother. We bumped into eachother on the stairs. I was very much drowning in gentlemanly little bastards.

So it was inevitable that something of this sort was bound to happen.

See, a couple nights ago, I was feeling very out of it, so I thought I’d take the feeling further by staying up till 2:30 doing the sort of absolutely nothing that doesn’t even leave you rested by the end of it. (Instagram reels, you degenerates) Sandpaper-eyed, I crawled into bed and was asleep for but twenty minutes when I was awoken.

By what?

By a silhouette, in my doorway, of a very muscular shirtless someone, (he has an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt on, but it hung, y’know?), just standing there.

(I don’t really lock my door when I’m at home. Maybe I should, then this shit wouldn’t happen, but then this shit wouldn’t happen ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

So I put on my glasses, not completely awake but certainly not asleep anymore, and threw off my covers to greet my guest like a proper host.

I am not expecting company. I live alone. I should be terrified. The only person in my mind that this could possibly be is my pixie-cutted next door neighbor who sometimes wears loud-printed, insurance salesman shirts, suspenders, and unconventionally long shorts “for a girl”, but the voice coming from this ever-less-blurry form is unmistakably masculine and the handsome face I am greeted with at the door is one I have not had the pleasure of former acquaintance.

The things he has been saying this whole time were very riveting, to me at least as I got my bearings and tried to discover the quest for which my nighttime visitor had gone forth. He was evidently confused why my door had not led him to a haven of like-enebriated individuals and instead portaled him into the dark room of a sleeping freshman, but he was taking his time about vocalizing his mistake.

When I got to the doorway, he got flustered and went “no, no, I’m sorry to bother you, you can go back now.”

I thought to myself, well now I’m hooked, and, gesturing at my top and very tiny shorts that could be easily missed, said “Don’t worry, I’m…clothed”. The very best thing to say in that situation.

He went “I think I’m on the wrong floor” but he sort of repeated it and said it very slow and repeated it again, and so I helpfully pointed to the three on my door, that signifies that this was, yes, the third floor. At a complete loss for words, I was really just trying to be helpful.

He repeated himself once more, and so I tilted my head and stared at him and we started at eachother for a while while I desperately tried to think of something clever to say and he desperately tried to think of something, anything, to say to gracefully remove himself from the conversation.

He settled for “just…forget about this.” And escaped in the direction of the staircase. Out of my life with residency fixed in my mind forever.

I went back to bed and thought, Someone would have found that very romantic.

Which, I hope, is all of you. I don’t get paid by the word, you know.

Looking back, I think the most unfortunate part about that story, for y’all at least, is that there is literally zero chance of another interaction with the man because a) I have moved out, b) I will not see anyone from that college for three months now, and c) he was in all probability drunk out of his mind, which I think really does ruin our chances as he has, no doubt, forgotten our little interaction and I am certainly not going to do anything—should we cross paths again—to remind him.

So it is not really that kind of story, but I hope it gave someone food for thought or smut I guess.

It was a pretty fun way to start my ex’s birthday though :/

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babybluebanshee · 2 years ago

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Things I've Had To Deal With As A City Librarian: I'm Just So Tired

Haven't done one of these in a while, and things have just been...they've been a time, let me tell you.

*We caught a guy hiding in one of the bathroom stalls after closing. We check the bathrooms to clean up any messes for the next day, and Julie knocked on the men's room door. No one answered, so she went in and checked the stalls. Didn't see any feet so she starts opening the doors. She gets to the handicap stall, and she tries to open it. It's locked. She mutters something about having to unlock it, and suddenly a voice from inside calls out, "Hey, I'm still in here." Julie nearly shrieks. The guy claims that his fly was stuck, but given the fact he didn't say anything when Julie came in and we couldn't see his feet under the stall door means he was probably crouched on the toilet, hoping we'd think the bathroom was empty and he could spend the night in the library.

*My coworker Allie did a cute little display in the kids area where you can write a letter to Curious George. She even made cardboard mailbox for it and put out a bunch of books and movies for people to check out. The amount of vandalism this thing has seen is unreal. One night a kid poked holes in the mailbox with a colored pencil. I was doing a walkthrough after a particularly rowdy family was in the kids area, only to discover that they have thrown everything on the display into the mailbox - the books, the movies, the postcards, the coloring materials, even one of the book stands. We spent about ten minutes fishing everything out.

*Speaking of displays, I did the Black History Month one this year. I worked on it for three months, and to be honest, I was very proud of it. It took up two tables, full of historical events and famous figures of black history. Needless to say, since black history is so damn expansive and my space was limited, a lot of people ended up getting left off (especially local people I'd never learned about). The amount of times people told me I left out a person they personally believed should be on it drove me to distraction. Two separate people told me I missed Kamala Harris (which I'll be kicking myself forever about). One woman asked me why I didn't redo the whole display to add one local figure she thought needed to be included. One woman asked me why she herself was not included one the poet's wall, because she was a published author. No, she was not kidding. I guess I should be thrilled that people were actually interacting with it, but at least a few people telling me I did a good job would have been fucking nice.

*To branch off from the black history month display - the city has an anti-discrimination policy when it comes to people reserving rooms for events. The only thing we explicitly do not allow is social events like parties and anyone attempting to sell something; everything else is fair game. This means we get a lot of obnoxious groups whose views we really, really do not agree with - homeschoolers, churches, conservative clubs, and, my personal favorite, the Sons of the Confederacy. Or as Rachel and I like to call them, The Sons of a Bunch of Loser Piss Babies. They had a meeting there during February, and Rachel was working that day. One of them, in his stupid little gray hat, was standing talking to someone...right next to my black history month display. Rachel told me she wanted to take a picture because the juxtaposition was...stark, to say the least. We're really not that surprised Failfuck McStank didn't notice the irony.

*We've had a guy coming in with his guitar and just...hanging out in the study rooms to play. We can't really do anything about it unless he's too loud or someone actively complains, but we're all kind of puzzled about the library being his first choice of places for a jam session.

*There's a pair of teenage girls that have been coming in for about four months now and their punk vibe is immaculate. The first time I ever saw them, one of them had a giant bleach blond mohawk, a leather jacket with studs, hot pink and black striped stockings, and the most badass combat boots I've ever seen. Her friend had a bleach blond buzzcut, a black jean jacket covered in patches, teal leggings, and red converse that were falling apart. Sherri stumbled on them chilling in the kids area, and noticed the buzzcut one was bent over something. She got closer and realized the kid was knitting a scarf. Mohawk comes in more often, and always has a thick book with her, just lounging in the chairs and quietly reading for a few hours. They're my second favorite patrons and hope they never change.

*A woman was interested in attended my classic book club meeting back in June. We were reading Fun Home by Alison Bechdel, so I gave her a copy. She didn't attend the meeting. She returned the book a few days later and said it was "gross". While she was there, she also picked up her inter library loan of a "romance" novel about a woman falling in love with her abusive stepbrother. I'm all for people reading whatever the fuck they want, but I also feel like if you're gonna read stepsibling porn, you don't get to call lesbian comics gross.

*Two women came in with a little boy who was absolutely bouncing off the walls. They did absolutely nothing to control him - one of them was busy talking to someone on her phone (on speaker till someone complained), the other was perusing the shelves - and the kid was just kind of running around being a nuisance. I was walking back from helping someone in the computer lab and saw the kid taking off his shirt. I told him he had to keep his shirt on, and that's when one of the women finally turned to me and said, "He wants to put his Spider-Man costume on." And I'm like, "Lady, that's great, but you're in a public space, not your living room. Have him change in the bathroom." Luckily they didn't hang around long after that, but fucking hell, the entitlement.

*A woman came in to fax a police report to her lawyer, and Sherri and I ended up being privy to the sordid tale of having her car stolen. She was out with a guy she met on Tinder, and they went to a bar in the next town over. They were getting ready to leave, but she wanted to have a cigarette, so they were standing by her car in the parking lot. Suddenly, three police cars come shooting up, right next to them. Turns out the dude she's with has a warrant out for his arrest. He panics, grabs her keys out of her hand, jumps in the car, and fucking peels away. He ended up crashing it into a ditch less than ten miles away, totaling it. She doesn't even know what warrant was for.

*It's very funny whenever I call anyone for reserve reminders or things like that, because people are so used to getting calls from robots and scammers that they're immensely suspicious any time they answer their phone. And it makes the absolute 180 they do into delighted toddlers, excited to get their books, that much funnier. The scenario usually goes like this:

Me: Hi, is this [insert name]?

Patron: *clearly doing the suspicious Fry face* Yeeeees...

Me: This is Blue, at the library! I was just calling to let you know you have a book on reserve ready for pick up!

Patron: *brightening instantly* OMG thank you! Oh, I'm so glad you called! You've made my day, you guys are wonderful!

Never fails to make me chuckle.

*The assistant librarian is in charge of a lot of the teen programs we do, and by far the most popular are her teen book boxes - the kids fill out a form of stuff they enjoy, and she puts together a box of three books, plus crafts and snacks, for them. On average, she does about twenty of them a month. However - because we are located in the heart of Conservative Brainrot Land, where a not insignificant portion of the population thinks if they're a good little conservative who hates what Fox News tells them to, Tucker Carlson will come give them the hug their dad never did - this has also given us great insight into the minds of ultra controlling parents who would encase their kids in wax if that could keep them from learning things they don't want them to. One particularly baffling example started with a mom asking that no "social justice" be included in the box. The next one asked for "no gender identity". This time? No inclusion. Like...I get why she put that. Because inclusivity = woke = liberal = the devil. But like...do these people hear themselves? Do they know what words mean? Also, I told the AL that she should just give the kid an empty box. She did not follow my advice.

*On the flip side of the crazy, controlling parent thing, y'all remember this family from a while ago? The one where the aunt came in and said Pretty Little Liars had opened a satanic portal that drove her niece to a mental hospital? Well, I'm happy to report that I think the mother of that girl might have had a face turn. The same kid just recently returned several books from the Anita Blake series (which are pretty mature as far as sexuality goes), and she's been in talks with the AL to volunteer for us, informing her that she doesn't know her schedule just yet because her mother is letting her start public school. I like to think the mom looked at that whole situation, took a long, hard look at herself in the mirror, and thought, "Ya know what? I don't think I want to be like this anymore. I think this is a problem." And ya know what? Good for her, and good for that girl. I hope it does them both a world of good.

#woe to the librarian #the conservative brain rot is starting to leech into my professional life #and i'll be here to report on it every chance i can

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batsarebetterthanpeople · 10 months ago

Note

People who keep bringing up that damn letter don't give a shit about Palestine, not one. Or Guz, who himself said OFMD wasnt the project where he had to compromise his politics.

Also, the letter, while obviously not good and shouldn't have been signed, came about when there was still a ton of misinformation being spread about what was actually going on. But the letter wasn't brought to the internet's general attention until a few weeks later and surprise surprise, no one bothered to check.

as you said, his name is the only one that still gets brought up about it (I didn't even know Con signed it until you said it). Obviously he's not beyond criticism but right now the way people are so gleeful to rip him apart over the flimsiest things is honestly getting a little disturbing.

Actually I repeated misinfo I saw on tumblr because someone made an intentionally misleading post. Con did not sign the letter. However when someone said that he did I was like "yeah that tracks" because I distinctly remember Con posting on twitter before he deleted about how brave someone was for "coming out" as a zionist. Con signaled Zionism in this instance and hasn't said shit since, unlike Taika who has said that he didn't really know what was going on with that hostage thing and that he shouldn't have to know about every geopolitical conflict ever, which fair enough I'm not read up on what's happening in Sudan right now. I sort of am trying to limit the amount of misery that I can't effect which I allow myself to take in and my country is actively funding Israel so I chose to learn about it for that reason.

But like Madonna signed the letter, Orlando Bloom signed the letter and nobodys coming for the Lotr fandom (I don't think they should), Paul Rudd signed the letter and they're not coming for ant man gif makers. Lana Del Ray signed it, and so on. linkie

like I don't think you should harass these people's fans on this basis we need to stop insisting that everyone only view unproblematic media, but come the fuck on. There's non jewish people on there who haven't said jack or shit about it and you're coming for this guy? transparently an excuse to hate on a brown man and his gay show. You'll notice they're not fucking with the Thor enjoyers. It's just us fags that get their anons.

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duhragonball · 2 years ago

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Dragon Ball Super 097

Live! At the Null Realm Fairgrounds! It’s the Tournament of Power!

80 warriors from across the multiverse slug it out! First prize: a super wish! Second prize: Death!

Plus, check out the 60′s Batmobile! On display at the fairgrounds!

And don’t forget Kids’ World, where you can meet Fred Flintstone and Spider-Man!

See KISS in a special live performance! It’s all here at the Null Realm Fairgrounds! Exit 103A off of I-69. Be there!

Okay, so we finally made it! We’re here! The part where Dragon Ball Super finally gets good. I would say “without any further ado”, but the Grand Minister makes a big entrance and insists on going over the rules one more time. So it takes about five minutes to get rolling, but this is it. The Tournament of power will start in this episode.

“Assembled gods and mortals, the Omni-Kings requested musical accompaniment for this auspicious occasion, and so we have provided it! You wanted the best, you got the best. The hottest band in the world! KISS!

youtube

I needed a gimmick for this thing, a way to raise the stakes, and this is it. While dozens of cartoon aliens and karate guys battle for their continued existence, I face a different challenge. Can I liveblog the entire Tournament of Power while also assembling a kickass playlist for the arc? A playlist made up entirely of KISS songs? I have a chemistry degree and a one million word fanfic that strongly suggests that I have no limits.

Anyway, the Grand Minister gives the signal and all these randos you’ve never heard of start fighting.

I remember during the buildup to thing in 2017, I wondered how Toei would even animate a battle royale like this. Sure, you can kind of do close-ups of just a few characters on the edge of the stage, but you have to zoom out sometime, and what happens then? Well, they solved this problem the same way Dragon Ball solves a lot of other problems: With explosions.

For the next several episodes, everybody who isn’t getting screen time in this show will be firing off huge ki blasts with little to no effect. And it’s glorious.

The Grand Zenos are blown away and we’re only a few seconds into this thing.

As for Team Universe 7, well, Gohan had a game plan, but he can only get half the team to follow it. Goku, Vegeta, 17, and 18 all rush off to fight, and Frieza decides he can’t pass up a chance to enjoy his one-day pass from hell.

From the bleachers, the gods wondered why they even bothered trying to prepare for this, which sort of proves my point about Episodes 68-96. A lot of those episodes focused on everyone talking about this tournament and preparing for it, but most of those preparations amount to nothing.

For example, there was a scene where Universe 3 showed off an enhanced fighter with special mechanical limbs designed for avoiding elimination and sweeping fighters out of the ring. But Hit wrecks that dude right off the bat.

Oh, and Basil too. Narirama doesn’t get eliminated in this episode, but it doesn’t really matter, since his whole game plan just got shot to hell. And it only took a few seconds of this episode to introduce the dude and then take him down. That other episode where he strutted his stuff was pointless.

Speaking of Basil, he manages to knock another fighter out of the ring. This is Ryelibeu, one of the few contestants who has wings and could fly under the unique conditions of the Tournament stage.

But she’s so overwhelmed by the fall that she forgets to use her wings, and so she tumbles down into the abyss until she’s suddenly teleported to the bleachers. Rumsshi is none too pleased about his team being the first to suffer an elimination, but Gowasu says there’s nothing they can do about it, which is the most Gowasu line ever. Seriously, why did he even bother fielding a team? I get the impression Gowasu would enjoy nonexistence.

At this point, the Grand Minister shows the Zenos how to use their GodPad devices to keep track of the ring-outs. Nearby, a guy in a Fred Flintstone costumes watches on as they mark off Rylibeu. Fred is eerily silent, as he isn’t supposed to say anything for this job. But if he were the real Fred Flintstone, he would surely be saying “Yabba Dabba Doo! That’s it for Rylibeu!”

Meanwhile, a bunch of guys try to gang up on Gohan’s squad, but they stand their ground and stay in this thing.

There’s not much to call here. It’s just absolute chaos. Goku really wants to pick up where he left off against Top, but other fighters keep getting in Goku’s way. When Top finally does fight back, some other guy attacks Top, so Goku’s going to have to accept the opponents that present themselves.

Goku catches a glimpse of Jiren, but before he can do anything about it, he gets grabbed by Nink, a big dope from Universe 4. Nink doesn’t seem to be long on smarts, so his plan is to drag Goku to the edge and eliminate himself and Goku at the same time. The spectators praise Nink for his smarts, as this is a great way to take out a team’s star player and gain an advantage, except, no. This is a terrible idea.

Case in point, Goku only seems to be in a pinch because he’s trying to conserve his strength. So when it looks like he’s doomed, he finally uses Super Saiyan Blue to escape, and Nink winds up eliminating himself for nothing. The problem with this sort of strategy is that U4 only has ten fighters on the board, so they can’t affort to waste them like this. Even if Nink’s plan had succeeded, that would only leave Universe 7 in a bad position. The other six teams would be just fine, and U4 would have to deal with them without Nink’s help. I don’t think that’s a bargain.

Also, U4 really had no idea what Goku was capable of, so they never stopped to consider if Goku could be eliminated this way. It’s a bad enough strategy when it’s guaranteed to succeed, but when it’s a gamble? It’s foolish.

But as Goku recovers from that near-defeat, he finds himself surrounded by Universe 9 fighters. Looks like they’ve decided Nink had the right idea, but this time they’re going to use more manpower to make it happen. What could possibly go wrong?

Meanwhile, Spider-Man is having a blast.

#dragon ball #dragon ball super #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #tournament of power #look i'm not gonna bother tagging everyone in this thing so just forget it okay?

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ryuzakemo128 · 2 years ago

Text

Cosmic

Chapter Five: Mistakes

Trigger Warning/s: Cursing

Possible Pairing: Marianna x Billy Hargrove

Author's Note: I've gotten into a habit of putting little "easter eggs" in reference to other things. If you can spot them let me know.

Chapter Master List: Link

In the course of time, her dreams became increasingly seamless. At times, it was difficult for her to distinguish one dream from the other, because she could no longer distinguish between the two. She never got the nerve to listen to cassette tapes or even watch video tapes that would have explained things further. She felt as if she was running away from reality rather than facing it head on. The less she knew, the less pain she would experience and the less work she would have to do. There is no doubt that the movies she watched during that period made it clear that this is not how that sort of thing works. The more she watched them, the more she realized that wasn't true.

"I've been trying to see further for the past three days and I've had next to no progress what-so-ever." Marianna complained.

"Yeah, because you're forcing it." Andrea says as she eats her lunch.

"The thing is that I have no intention of forcing it. It happens on its own, but the details don't extend as far as I would like them to." Marianna explained.

"When was the last time you had one of these night terrors?" Darcy asked, air quoting, when he said night terrors.

"Not since Hargrove and Mayfield showed up."

"You're kidding right?" Thea raised an eyebrow.

"No, I wish I was. But I'm not."

"Darcy and I know for fact that a night terror should have happened by now because they usually do. Plus the longest you had without a night terror?"

"It used to be four days, now I can go like three days without a night terror"

"I swear you are forcing them at this point. Which is even weirder since you never liked them in the first place, and now that you have gotten used to them, you are forcing them now, and I really don't like it." Thea rambled in a frantic way.

"How else am I meant to see further into the future if I don't force it to happen?" Marianna asked curiously about what she'd say.

"I don't know, maybe there is something you can do that is less intense?" Thea suggested.

"Like green tea or something?" Marianna asked her.

"Maybe. Just maybe we'll find one that'll help. Just stop forcing the night demons to come out and play" Thea says rather annoyed.

"I don't force them, I just force the amount of what I can see into the future."

"How many days have you seen each time?"

"I've been able to see at least four days into the future so far. But if I try to get past that, I get a headache and my stomach starts hurting. Which happens after I wake up the next day. Which used to happen. Now I can see up to eight days, double what I used to be able to see."

Darcy points out. As he had seen it at least once before. "But you always have a bleeding nose afterwards."

"I also wasn't trying to limit test this thing either. So I'm asking you guys to just trust me on this one."

"We trust you, we just don't like your methods." Andrea said, folding her arms.

"Now that we have turned the subject away from Marianna's night terrors, how about seeing Billy Hargrove? Have you seen him yet?" Andrea asked, trying to turn the conversation into a more positive one instead.

"No, why would I have? I've got enough on my plate without thinking about who the new student is. You know with the night terror stuff, job and studying. Thea, you were checking him out earlier."

"I was so not." Thea blushes slightly.

"You were. I saw you look at him a number of times during Math and during English, and I saw you try to hit on him before we left for lunch."

"I have you know I've had some form of success."

"I know I had to watch because you blocked the doorway." Andrea and Marianna said in unison making Thea that much more flustered.

"Honestly, you were trying harder than you ever did. I mean, do you think he'd hang out with a freak? I mean look at us. Darcy is excluded because he's already in the crowd of popular people." Andrea says to her.

"Andrea is right, we're all freaks here, so Darcy, if the guys in the popular group have anything to say about you, you deserve better because you're friends with freaks." Marianna said dramatically, which made him laugh even harder.

"You're not getting rid of me that quickly." Darcy replied, as he finished his lunch. "If push comes to shove, I'd rather be friends with you than with those guys."

"I think Galina might dump her current boyfriend and try dating Billy. But other than her, I know for a fact that a lot of girls in our grade will be drooling over him. It's not just you two." Marianna realized as she thought about it further.

"Probable, no concrete evidence so far and honestly I don't care to know more about him." Darcy responded. "He made Steve a fool of himself in a basketball game."

"When was this?" Andrea asked him.

Thinking back, Darcy replied, "Yesterday."

"I mean I think he might have a better chance with Maria than with G anyway." Thea states pointing out the fact that Marianna's car is nicer and not to mention her personality would more than likely attract him more.

"Don't count on it happening. Put your fanfiction pencils down and stop thinking about it. It won't happen, it will never come to pass, so help me god."

"The tapes, I haven't gotten around to even trying to listen to them and I feel like I have put them off each time."

"As far as these tapes are concerned, the problem is that they reveal a lot more than you are emotionally able to handle because of that very fact. I would not recommend listening to them in the same headspace that you find yourself in at the moment." Ms. Kelly said to her as she listened to what she had to say about the tapes Marianna was given to her.

"I'll take that into consideration with them. As for the diet side of things, nothing has changed and most of it would stay the same regardless of whether I was still located in Russia or not. But like I said I'm not heading back there and I have no intention of returning back at least not in the foreseeable future." Marianna explained further about what her trip was like the year before and how she felt about it. "I also have these dreams about what might happen or what could happen if I decided to listen to them. Which deters me from listening to them that much more."

In the meantime, while she was in her counselling session with Ms. Kelly. Her friends were talking about the upcoming party that Marianna wanted to throw. As such, they decided who they didn't want to see at that party.

"Bailey isn't coming to the Halloween party this year." Thea told Andrea.

"Bummer, did she say why?"

"She's grounded for sneaking out past curfew." Thea replied, "Marianna is going to be disappointed though."

"Yeah, another year without her. Galina will show up to one up her again this year." Andrea told her.

"No, not her. They always end up friends again in a stupid drunken haze. It's fucking annoying when it happens." Thea complained.

"I know, that is why we need a back-up plan so that can never happen." Andrea confessed to Thea, Darcy and a few of Marianna's other friends.

"Can't have a repeat of this whole thing because well she's finally able to express herself without having to worry about G complaining about it." Brain said as he sat with them. "I mean if we can pull this off, if we can. We won't worry about that happening. Besides who out of us could drink her under the table or want to even try?"

"How about an invitation-only party?" Marianna suggested as she walked over just in time for their scheming to end.

"Hey Marianna we were just talking about this year's Halloween party. You might be tempted to invite a certain someone and I know you don't like being mean to anyone. We just think we should skip that person this year at least?"

"I mean we didn't get to have one last year, I suppose I can overlook the uncomfortable looks I'm getting for a few minutes. Galina is the one you're hinting at, so yeah. She'll never get invited again after this one either. If that makes you comfortable then I won't invite her."

"You did make sure to get the vodka imported over from Russia right?" Brian asked curiously.

"Yeah. Of course I did. I made sure there is more than enough. I just hope it's not too much." Marianna responded thinking about it more thoroughly. "Although I think my uncle might send over too much."

"Yeah. You did that for my 18th birthday and I still haven't gotten through it all. I will also bring that." Thea remembers it.

"One condition, you have to invite the new guy." Andrea says eyeing him as he walks in.

"Who's this new guy? Why didn't anyone else tell me about him?" Walter glanced at him too.

"Just like that?" Thea asked baffled.

"Just like that." Marianna replied as she ate her lunch. "You made it sound like it was going to be far more difficult than it was."

"I think it would be fair to say that we have every right to be shocked by this outcome. Aside from the fact that you were never one to single people out, and you avoided confrontation most of the time. So yeah. We have every right to be shocked." Brain gestured with his hand.

After school had finished, her friends headed home or headed out to after school clubs. Marianna had to go to another one of her kickboxing classes and all she could think about was watching the VHS tapes. But the warning from Ms. Kelly wasn't enough to dissuade her from watching them as soon as she returned home.

She put one of the VHS tapes on to watch. She couldn't shake the feeling that she should see what they were like. Volume one: The truth was written on the tape.

"I know she told me not to watch or listen to any of them yet. But I really want to. Just watching the first one won't hurt. I'm sure it won't hurt if I check out the first one." Marianna says to her cats as if they understand her. "Great talk guys. You're full of great ideas."

The video starts. The first thing she sees is 500 children in stasis chambers. The reason that some of them are empty is that they were subjected to more invasive tests than others. "My child will outlive them. I will ensure it." A young scientist told one of the interviewers.

She was asked, "What about her father? Doesn't he have a say in any of this?"

"What he does not know cannot hurt him." She replied. "Our child will thank us for this gift we have given her. I am certain of it."

"Having noticed the use of these stasis pods, I was wondering if there was a reason why you chose to use them instead of just using normal rooms?"

"There are fifty stasis pods in each room, and the ones that don't survive will be reused. So we can move on to the next one and still have enough room for the children to come in." She explained.

"What is your name if you don't mind me asking?"

"You can call me Katarina." She responded.

"Well Katarina, would you mind showing me what child is the one you told me about?"

"I have made sure that my beloved butterfly is in the last room far away from any impurities that may occur." She said leading him down the hallway that led to room eleven. It had a white door and a gold handle, engraved with the number 011.

It was a liquid stasis pod, as opposed to the ones previously shown where the children were floating in it. The mother used a liquid that seemed to be floating and held the child still with it. There's also one with the engraving of the Seer on it. As the camera scans the stasis pod, we can see how different it looks compared to the other ones. Some of the reasons are because the tank is larger, it can hold more liquid at the same time, and it also appears more solid at the same time. There was something akin to a combination of a cyro pod and a stasis pod in the pod. The subject was not lying in a fetal position like the others. A thick liquid holds them in place.

The woman painted butterfly wings on each side of the tank so that everyone in the building knew not to approach the child. Her mother might have killed them if they approached the tank.

"Butterfly, I brought someone to meet you." Katarina whispers softly.

"She looks so much like you doctor." He says as they enter the room. "I'm sure you've heard that a million times already."

"Not to worry. She's one of the precious little things I have."

Marianna had to pause the tape after her mother said that about her calling her friend Darcy. "Can you come over? I think you need to watch this as much as I do. I don't think I can watch the rest of it on my own."

"Sure, I can head over there in a few minutes." Darcy replied before also saying, "Didn't you say you were putting those off though?"

"Yeah, until I gave up and thought let's watch it and see what it's about." Marianna explained, "So yeah mistakes were made and that's how I got to this point."

The next day, Marianna handed out invitations for her Halloween party, further indicating that if you were invited, it meant she wanted to be friends with you.

"Hey Steve, I think it would be pretty cool if you came to my Halloween party this year."

"Yeah, cool. I'll be there." Steve replied.

"Sweet, I'll see you then." Marianna continued on to invite Billy Hargrove, the arrogant hardass in the body of a seventeen year old. She knew he wouldn't show up, but she had to invite the guy anyway because apparently being kind to him was incredibly significant.

"Hi, I would appreciate it if you came to my Halloween party this year."

"Fuck off"

"Well you can either show up, or don't show up. I really don't care." Marianna replied as she walked off leaving the invitation there for him.

Marianna then proceeded to yell out "Thea, it's done. I've done it. Don't ask me to invite him again." Her friend Thea began to blush in total embarrassment after that. She invited more people.

As the school day came to a close her kickboxing class came closer and closer. Another thing to dread, another thing to worry about because they were going to be held on the school basketball court.

"My manga tournament arc is finally coming up." Marianna thinks to herself.

"Mara, it's almost time." Derek said to her.

"Derek, I'm excited to kick ass and take names." Marianna responded getting pretty excited.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Billy asked them.

"Not that it is any of your business we're here for kickboxing." Marianna states, "And no he isn't fighting either, I am. He's just my cheerleader."

"What's the matter grump ass? Don't you want to watch me fight?" She yelled out to him as he walked off. Marianna walked in with Derek.

"Gosh, someone is grumpier than I'd imagine." Derek yelled out loud for Billy to hear him.

While the people watching did not think that she would win any of the fights that she participated in throughout the afternoon, she won them all; battles that, if she had lost them, would have looked as if she had lost them, battles that clearly showed that she had an advantage over her opponents regardless of what her opponents thought.

"Told you I could fight." Marianna says to Billy. "So I was thinking, since after everything you might want to show up to that Halloween party."

"Don't answer, you still don't have to. I just thought it might be fun." Marianna said before he made any kind of insult. "I also said it to get the reaction I wanted. Which I got."

#Stranger Things #Stanger Things Fanfiction #Stranger Things Fanfic #Billy Hargrove x Fem! Reader #Billy Hargrove x Female Reader #Billy Hargrove x Fem! Reader Insert #Billy Hargrove x Female Reader Insert #Billy Hargrove x y/n #Billy Hargrove x Reader #Billy Hargrove x Reader Insert #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington

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purplesurveys · 5 months ago

Text

1886

Do you like meatball subs? I've never had one, but I also don't like meatballs so I'm not feeling too good about what I'll probably think of it in a sandwich.

Are you severely sleep deprived? I wouldn't say severely. I still get a decent amount of sleep; I just have a terrible habit of pushing my limits and turning in between the hours of 2-4 AM.

What music are you listening to? I don't have music on at the moment but I do have a Weverse live in the background. It's the maknaes + Namjoon's live a few days before they simultaneously enlisted.

What is your favorite smell on earth? The fishy, salty-ish smell of fresh seafood. That, and the room scent of my favorite hotel.

What are you doing tomorrow morning? I have no idea. My first free weekend in a month! I'm so excited. I'll definitely check on our stray kitty rescue first thing in the morning; I'll play with him and feed him and take him for a quick walk and such. My sister also asked me to be her driver for her date, but I don't know what time we'll need to leave but that's part of the plans for sure.

What are you supposed to be doing right now? Nothing, so I'm taking this and might also play my game after.

Have you ever killed your elbows on an inflatable obstacle course? It wasn't an obstacle course; just this giant inflatable slide – but yes, I have. It was very hot that day and my elbow just happened to graze the inflatable at the worst time and with the worst angle, so I got a bit of a burn from that.

Are you aware that all these questions are being made up at 3:54 am? No, but thanks for sharing. It's been pretty good so far!

Ever gone a whole day without eating? Welcome to what was my life from September to December 2020.

Do you feel that you need to improve your spiritual life? I don't, because I don't believe in having one.

Can you curse fluently in Spanish? I probably don't know all of the curses, but colonization has taught us a cuss word or two that we use to this day.

If you go to school (HS or college) does your school have a rival? I wouldn't say we have a direct rival the way other universities here do - like how Ateneo's counterpart has always been DLSU. But we are part of the Big 4 so in that aspect we kind of view the other three as rivals, and vice versa.

The closest rival we have is probably UST, but tbh I don't feel the rivalry all that much and it's definitely not as established the way ADMU-DLSU has always been.

What’s your school’s mascot? Oble. it's a statue of a naked man with his arms outstretched and his chest slightly pushed outward, which is meant to symbolize selfless offering of oneself to the nation. We're the national university, so it checks out.

Do the numbers 44 and 53 mean anything to you? Not really.

Ever had banana pudding flavored ice cream? Nope.

If you have a sib, do you call him/her “brother” or “sister” sometimes? I call my sister "sis" or "siz" which where I'm from has been a trendy way to address literally anyone haha. Like I can call a straight guy "siz" and no one will bat an eye; I just happen to use it with my sister too.

Has the weather been odd lately where you live? It's the usual headache of humidity.

Remember “Kenan and Kel”? I have the vaguest memory of it, but ultimately I was too young to ever be its core audience during its heyday.

Does the mere mention of that show make you crave orange soda? No.

Are you *this* close to falling asleep? No, and I have no plans of sleeping any time soon. Don't wanna waste the weekend.

Do you own a Wii? We used to.

If not, do you want one? I would actually love to have one again since I had lots of fun with ours. I spent hours playing Mario Kart Wii even when I already finished the game.

Did you ever collect stickers? Yeah and I was the kid that stuck them all around the house... bless my elders, they never gave me shit for it now that I think about it.

Isn’t Hello Kitty just the cutest thing ever? Not into Sanrio.

Are there any songs you could just listen to over and over and over? Easily. These days it's Heaven, Come Back To Me, and Nuts by RM.

Do you have a favorite basketball team (NBA or college?) No.

Ever had chicken curry and basmati rice? Of course. Love them :)

Do you have a weird obsession with numbers? No.

Does your job (if you have one) involve sitting at a computer for hours? It does. It's like 80% work-from-home, but we also have days where we need to meet clients at their HQ, have events, do media rounds and visit the offices of different publications, etc. It's a good mix.

Do you get major shoulder/upper back pain from that? Or think you would? It's my shoulders and lower back that have the hardest time. It's the reason why I always keep a stock of Katinko now.

Do you have someone who will give you a massage when you need one? My grandmas :)

Ever seen Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas? I haven't.

Do you own any diamond jewelry? Nopes.

Is this survey random enough for you? Sure!

Do you have an American-made car? No, it's Japanese.

Have you been baptized in any religious tradition? I was baptized Roman Catholic, yes.

Do you drink alcohol at all? Sure! Mostly socially, but I will sometimes have a drink on my own.

If not, do you like the smell? Depends. There are some that I think smell like poison, lol.

Are you in a chair, on a couch, in bed, on the floor, what? I'm on a sleeping bag.

Can you eat just one potato chip? That's definitely possible, like if I try a new kind and don't like it.

If your best male friend got a mohawk, would he look good or ridiculous? Probably ridiculous.

Do you love the smell of sunblock? Not particularly but it does evoke some positive emotions here and there. Like how it reminds me of the beach.

Does the computer you’re on have Vista, XP, or something else? Mac OS.

Internet Explorer or Firefox: which do you prefer? I don't use either. I've been on Google Chrome ever since I learned how to use the internet.

What are you going to do now? I feel like looking for a new one to take, so I *might* do that then spend the next few hours on Rhythm Hive haha.

0 notes

kiridarling · 4 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒.

katsuki bakugou | birthday gone wrong (aha), f!reader, baker!reader, pro hero!katsuki, blizzards, angst and smut, exhibitionism, cockwarming, begging, confessions. minors dni!

— 4.7k words

Wanna blow off some steam?

“Surprise!”

Katsuki jumps ten feet high, and the plastic grocery bags precariously balanced on each finger tear without a second thought. Apples hit the ground with a thud and the egg carton with a depressing slap; one that signifies the crack of at least half a dozen. Katsuki looks at the crowd, red-faced and livid, and Eijirou Kirishima intercepts the awkward silence with:

“Happy Birthday Bakubro! I know y—“

“Said that I didn’t want a fuckin’ party?” Katsuki growls, groceries forgotten on the forgotten. Eijirou looks guilty and chuckles, scratching the back of his head.

“W-Well, yeah, but—“

“Everybody out.”

People sigh, and you think you hear Denki whisper told you he’d kick us out. You hate to say that you foresaw a similar outcome. Katsuki’s never been one for people.

Especially you.

“Awe come on, Kacchan,” Izuku says with hands on his hips. “We came all this way! Just let us stay for a little bit.”

“Yeah!” Eijirou seems to cheer up once given a sliver of hope. “Plus, we got cake and stuff. And Just Dance.”

Katsuki narrows his eyes, but you know better—he’s always had a soft spot for the redhead. You all wait with baited breath, wondering if this entire evening was a bust, as Katsuki weighs his options in a pool of fallen groceries.

“One hour.”

Eijirou gasps so hard he chokes, and Katsuki’s generosity earns him applause from the audience. (Plus whoops and hollers from Denki and Mina.)

“And I mean it—y’all have sixty fuckin’ minutes before you’re gone without a goddamn trace. Kapeesh?”

“Kapeesh!”

Katsuki sighs, rubbing at his temples as he steps over the mess at the front door. You assume he’ll make Eijirou clean it up. “Whatever. Where’s the fuckin’ cake?”

Ah.

“In the kitchen, my good sir!” Denki says as he ushers the ash-blond into the said kitchen, the rest of the party hot on their heels. Eijirou grabs the cake from the fridge and you’re tense until the plate hits the marble of their island.

“Flavor?” Katsuki asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, I dunno, [Y/N] made it,” Eijirou throws you under the bus, just like that, and you want to scoff at the way Katsuki freezes—if only for a moment. Eijirou’s oblivious as ever, “[Y/N]?”

“It’s red velvet,” you say, trying not to burn under Katsuki’s carmine eyes. You don’t know why he doesn’t look away.

“Frosting?”

“Buttercream.”

As if you’d give him anything else.

Eijirou tries his best to cram 26 candles into the cake before being forced to opt for 23 lest he ruin your decorations. Denki presses him to make a wish and Katsuki rolls his eyes as he blows out the candles. Eijirou wipes an invisible tear because ‘his boy is getting so old.’ Mina and Jiro cut the cake and people seem to enjoy it, and you think that maybe, reuniting with your high school friends after so long isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Even if he said he never wanted to see you again.

“—due to the incoming blizzard, we highly suggest all those who reside in the red and orange zones stay inside until it passes; which should be around ten am tomorrow morning.”

You spoke too soon.

Katsuki turns to the crowd, and you know what he’s going to say before his lip curls.

“Out.”

“Kacchan, don’t be unreasonable!” Izuku says from his comfortable position on the couch. “We’d get caught in the storm if we leave now.”

“Not if you’re fuckin’ fast enough,” Katsuki growls, pulling the greenette’s to his feet by his hair. “Get out, I’m not bunking with you fuckers overnight.”

“Dude,” Denki points to the window, and if you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought the blizzard had already started. “If we leave now, we’ll literally die.”

“Die, then.”

Eijirou sighs, clapping his roommate on the back. “C’mon, man. You know we ca—“

There’s a whirr then a click, and the lights and tv die at once. You can’t see a thing but you definitely hear Katsuki shout:

“Motherfucker!”

Eijirou turns his phone flashlight on first; Katsuki’s busy angrily flicking at the light to no avail. You sigh, turning to the ash-blond (and ignoring those ugly fucking butterflies in your stomach.)

“It’s a blackout Katsuki. The lights aren’t going to work.”

“Don’t you think I fuckin’ know that, dumbass?” And your chest tightens because even though he’s not eighteen anymore, he sounds the same—but you aren’t sure why you expected him to sound so different either.

You lift an eyebrow (not that he can see it), “It doesn’t look like you do.”

Denki snorts at that, hollering about how you just owned the ash-blond as Katsuki yells at him to shut the fuck up. It’s...familiar and comfortable, like you’re all in high school again, before you had to worry about your friends dying in their line of work because you couldn’t be there with them.

Before you got injured.

“Well I mean, we have a few blankets,” Eijirou offers, and as your eyes slowly adjust to the dark, you’re convinced you see his figure cross the living room. “And like, sweatshirts if it gets too cold.”

“It’s already getting too cold,” Mina says, and you can’t help but agree. The quickly cooling room has the goosebumps raising on your shoulders, and you’re starting to regret forgetting your jacket at home.

“Okay! I don’t have that many, but,” Eijirou hollers from somewhere, before returning with a handful of cloth. He drops it onto the coffee table. “Plus Hanta and Denks left their hoodies here last time.”

“Oh shit, we did?” Hanta says, and you assume it’s his figure who starts digging through the clothes. “Totally thought I lost this, lol.”

“Did you just saw lol out loud?”

“I did.”

“Ooh Ei, do you still have that old Red Riot hoodie?” Mina asks, and all of a sudden, she’s all over the pile. She finds it before the redhead can answer and snatches it away with a gasp.

You watch the pile dissolve in the darkness, one by one, and by the time you reach for something, your palm hits the cool wood of the coffee table. Fuck.

“Oh [Y/N]! Do you need some of my blanket?” Mina offers, but the blanket is small, and wrapping it around both of your shoulders just renders it utterly useless. You shake your head after she tries for a while.

“It’s fine Mina, I’m not that cold,” you laugh, but she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! Girl c’mon, you look like you’re freezing!”

And, well. Freezing is a stretch. Sure, you’re a little cold, but you’ll live.

“Do you need my sweatshirt?” Eijirou asks, already pulling at the hem. You roll your eyes.

“I’m serious guys, it’s not that bad,” you say, waving your arms for emphasis. They all grumble but they give up, and you feel like you can finally relax.

Something soft and army green drops into your lap. You pick it up in confusion, before looking up to see who dropped it.

Katsuki looks down at you, face glowing white from the phone flashlights. His eyes pierce your soul nevertheless.

“I don’t ne—“

“Take it.”

Katsuki takes a seat next to you on the couch in his own hoodie. You don’t realize until you put it on that he gave you a sweatshirt themed after his own hero costume.

You can’t sleep.

You can’t sleep, and you’re sure it’s due to the temperature. The wind howls and it sounds like you’re in the eye of a tornado, loose branches knocking against the rattling glass, and upon looking through the window, you see nothing but stark white. You sigh, checking the time on your phone for the fiftieth time this hour. Yep. Still four am.

“Stop fuckin’ movin’, dumbass.”

You all decided to bunk in the living room for warmth. You’re surprised Katsuki stayed, though; you figured he would just head to his room and let you all fend for yourselves while he slept in a comfortable bed. But here he is, sleeping next to you on the cold fucking floor.

“Sorry,” you say, but it’s hard when your shivering and your jaw aches from stunting your chattering teeth. Katsuki and Eijirou only had a limited amount of sleeping bags, meaning you’ve got to share a blanket with the hulking ash-blond.

“You cold?” He grunts. You don’t know why he’s asking.

“No.”

Katsuki sighs, and you hear him adjust, the blanket sliding from your neck to your shoulder. “You’re a shit liar.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to glare his way, and you look to notice Katsuki’s laying the same way.

“What’s your point?”

Katsuki doesn’t answer for a moment, but it doesn’t seem like he’s looking for an answer, either—his neon red eyes glow through the dark and straight into your soul, and the next time you shiver, it isn’t because of the temperature.

“You’re stubborn.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, “Thought you figured that out senior year.”

Katsuki’s face flashes with an emotion you can’t quite pinpoint before it’s gone again. “Yeah. You’d think almost dying would fuckin’ fix that.”

You sigh. Looks like you’re having this conversation now, then.

“I didn’t almost die—“

“Yes, you fuckin’ did,” Katsuki snarls, and Denki almost stirs at his raised tone. “You took that bullet and you didn’t get up for months—“

“And then I woke up and everything was fine! Seriously Katsuki, what’s your problem? I lived.”

“My problem is that you shouldn’t have been there in the goddamn first place!” Katsuki says through grit teeth. You watch his temple roll underneath his hairline. “That was my fuckin’ fight. I don’t need some chick jumping in front of a bullet for me just ‘cause she thinks I can’t take it!”

You scoff, looking around to see if any of your other sleeping friends are listening because get a load of this guy. Naturally, they don’t respond.

“That’s what this is about? Oh, well I’m sorry I bruised your dignity because I didn’t want to see you get fucking shot!”

Katsuki chest inflates with disbelief before it deflates again, and he’s rolling his eyes before he says, “That’s not—you fuckin’ know that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh really?” You laugh, and goddammit Katsuki, you just had to bring it up, didn’t you? “Because waking up after two months to your best friend telling you to give up doesn’t preserve your dignity at all, huh?”

“I didn’t tell you to fu—“

“You said those exact words, Katsuki. You said give up, and you left the hospital.”

The ash-blond has nothing to say to that, because he knows that you know you’re right, and trying to jedi mind trick you into believing he isn’t an asshole won’t work.

“Well you fuckin’ listened,” he grumbles, more to himself than you, but enough emotion flares in your core to make you want to scream.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you say, huffing, before turning your back to him, deeming this conversation over. “Good night, Katsuki.”

There’s a lull and it has you convinced you’ve won, finally relaxing (as much as you can) onto the cold floor. At least arguing heated your blood up a bit.

“The fuck do you mean?”

You roll your eyes even though they’re closed before you hop back onto your forearms to give the ash-blond a nasty look. “What?”

“You...said you didn’t have a choice,” Katsuki says, and it’s the first time you think you’ve heard him sound weary. Unsure. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means I had to give up on being a hero either way.”

Which sucked. Because you had spent the past four years of your life working your ass off to save others, and you wind up out of commission before you even got started. You...suppose you didn’t tell Katsuki the whole story. Well, you hadn’t had a chance to—today’s the first time speaking with him since you woke up in the hospital.

Katsuki eyes you out of his peripheral, but only for a second. “And that means...?”

“It means that if I land on my spine the wrong way, there’s a high chance I’ll be paralyzed from the waist down.” You growl, frustrated that it was easier to coax the truth out of you than you thought.

The bullet buried close to your spinal column. You had to do PT for months, relearning how to walk as you slowly regain your motor functions. That’s when you started to bake.

“Oh.”

The howling of the wind turns from somewhat soothing to aggravating as Katsuki’s unimpressive “oh” hangs heavy in the air, and you find yourself sighing, the puzzle pieces finally clicking in your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Katsuki asks—he’s still not looking at you.

“Blaming yourself,” you gesture to his figure, which is lax with depression, lacking its sturdiness and usual fire. “You didn’t shoot the gun.”

Katsuki snorts at that, running a hand through his hair, “I might as well.”

“Stop.”

“You got shot because of me,” Katsuki says as if it were a fact. “They were trying to kill me. Not you.”

“And they didn’t kill me. I’m here and you’re here. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be six feet under right now,” you reason. Katsuki shrugs because he’s just as stubborn as you are, and you figure he’s been carrying around this baggage for too many years.

“Does your back hurt often?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean sure, I get flare-ups sometimes, but it’s not too bad. Doesn’t really get in the way of baking as long as the table is high enough.”

Katsuki thinks for a moment, teeth worrying his bottom lip. “Is the table high enough? At your café.”

You shrug, failing to see where he’s going with this. “I have a platform thingy, so. It’s mostly for decorating cakes and things—“

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“What?”

“I’ll buy you a new table,” Katsuki says, nodding to himself as if he was confirming the idea. “A higher one.”

It takes a second for his offer to process, but once it does, you’re fighting a smile. Still the same kid. “Kats, I don’t nee—“

“An—And if you need a new chair. I’ll pay for that shit too.”

You shake your head—mainly in disbelief, “I don’t need a chair, Katsuki.”

“Then what?” He asks, and it almost sounds desperate with the speed he rushed the sentence, “Y’need a car? That hunk of junk you drive could use some work.”

You ignore the jab, because your car works perfectly fine thank you very much, and snort at the suggestion of such an outrageous purchase.

“What? You tryna be my sugar daddy or something?” You joke. Katsuki gives you a look, and it's dead serious.

“D’ya need one?”

“I—no!” You laugh, and have to remind yourself to reel it in before you actually wake Denki up. “I’m fine financially I just—what’s gotten into you?”

“Nothin’.” Katsuki quickly grumbles, facing forwards again. “I just...”

You raise an eyebrow, “You just..?”

“I dunno. I dunno,” Katsuki shakes his head. You let him gather his thoughts in silence before he tries again. He doesn’t.

“Then fuck me.”

In your defense, your mouth moved before you thought it through.

Katsuki has an unreadable look on his face, but his voice is anything but steady when he says, “What?”

Fuck. Fuck.

“U-Uh, I mean,” you recoil. Stupid big mouth. “I—you—don’t worry about it.”

“You said you wanted to fuck me,” Katsuki deadpans. You choke.

“I—no, that’s not—“

“That’s exactly what you said.”

“No, I meant as in I’m pent up. Obviously,” you defend with a huff, crossing your arms on the pillow as you glare daggers his way. Katsuki matches your stare.

“Not as pent up as a Pro Hero,” he scoffs, lifting an eyebrow. You take it as a challenge.

You click your tongue in faux pity, “Awe, the number two hero Dynamight doesn’t get laid?”

“No fuckin’ time,” he grunts, though you don’t find much remorse in his voice.

“Well, you have time now,” you say, completely unsure of where this confidence is coming from. Either way, you’ll take it and run.

“I do,” Katsuki confirms, leaning in closer. He’s close enough that you can smell what’s leftover of his cologne, and see the hint of a grin that makes his upper cheek shine silver in the moonlight. You find yourself leaning in just as much as he does.

“Wanna blow off some steam?” You dare to question. Katsuki’s grin only grows wider.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Katsuki’s kisses are surprisingly soft, you think, and so are his lips. But you don’t have much time to think about it as he pulls you in by the waist, quietly groaning into your mouth while he lays you down on your back.

“Always thought you were the prettiest fuckin’ thing,” he growls, trailing butterfly kisses down your neck. “‘M gonna make it up to you, yeah? Make you feel so fuckin’ good.”

A hand hikes his sweatshirt above your chest before Katsuki’s latching onto the skin under your collarbone and sucking, teeth digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

“Y-Yeah, that’s fine,” you whimper, intoxicated by the way Katsuki’s lips flush pink as he pulls away, eyes locked on the fresh hickey on your chest. They flicker up to you; he grins.

“Good?”

“Mhm.”

Katsuki hums at that, licking his lips before diving back in. You hiss when he bites too hard, prompting him to bite harder, but he always soothes it over with his tongue, topping each bruise with a kiss. You flinch when his lips wrap around your nipple and he chuckles at your meek whimper; a hand removes its grip on the sweatshirt in favor of sliding it up your thigh.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Katsuki says once he pulls away, enjoying the sight of you writhing in anticipation. “And it’s all for me, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, ‘m all yours just—“ you kick a leg in frustration at the thumb playing with the hem of your panties, “—do something already.”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, “Do what?”

You frown, huffing, “You know what.”

Katsuki shrugs, adjusting so he’s caging you to the floor. Ghosting a thumb over your panties, he says, “‘Course I do. You gotta ask nicely first.”

You tighten your hands into fists. He would.

“I’m no—“

“Beg, Princess,” Katsuki growls, his stare unwavering. He presses an inquisitive finger to your clit through your panties either as a promise or a threat—which, you’re not quite sure.

You crumble.

“I—fine, just—finger me.”

Katsuki doesn’t move. Asshole.

“Please.”

The ash-blond grins, finally pushing your panties to the side.

“Good girl.”

When Katsuki slides his first finger in, it’s much too easy, and you blame it on the foreplay. You shudder, hands moving to brace themselves on his big shoulders, and the ash-blond muffles a moan as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Another,” you moan, bucking your hips into his palm. Katsuki’s heated gaze flickers from your body to your face.

“Already?” He chuckles, the rasp in his throat giving his arousal away. You nod—he clicks his tongue.

“Fuckin’ dirty.”

Two fingers feel like so much more than just one, and they have your eyebrows folding in a poor attempt to muffle a whimper. Katsuki’s fingers still move tentatively but they’re getting comfortable, curling and searching for that place that’ll make you tremble. And then he finds it.

“F-Fuck,” your body jolts, and Katsuki’s shushing you against the pillows.

“Keep your mouth shut, Princess,” he purrs, head dipping down to nip at your neck. It adjusts the angle ever so slightly, but enough to make you hiss, and he chuckles. “Unless you wanna get caught.”

“Oh yeah, because that sounds fun right now,” you snort towards the ceiling. Katsuki pulls away with an unimpressed look as his thumb comes down over your clit.

“Can’t wait to fuck the brat outta ya. Maybe then you’ll actually shut up for once, huh?” Katsuki inserts a third finger without you asking him to, and you gasp, clawing at his back.

“Shh, shh, shh,” he laughs against your mouth lowly, as if the light kisses will do anything but make more noise, “Good God sweetheart, you’re really pent up, aren’t ya?”

“Shit—I doubt you’re much better,” you try, scoffing at what you can see of his painfully hard cock in his sweatpants. Katsuki looks down before sending a huff your way, with a cute little blush dusted on his cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up,” he grunts, pulling out his fingers. You whine at the loss. “How d’ya want me to fuck you?”

You need to take a step back from how crude the question is. Right, sex.

“Right um,” you look around, trying to find the least obvious position—and one that doesn’t make a shit ton of noise. Laying on your side, you tuck an arm under the pillow, before turning around to Katsuki to suggest, “Cuddle-fucking?”

“Cuddle-fucking.”

“Yep,” you say with finality, popping the p. Making big grabby hands his way, you say, “C’mere, big guy.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes but moves behind you anyways, warm arms easily finding themselves around your waist under the blanket. After a few adjustments and ensuring you're both fully covered, Katsuki’s hard cock presses against your entrance as he hooks his head over your chin with a huff.

“This is so not on fuckin’ brand.”

“I don’t think fucking in a living room with sleeping friends is on-brand for a pro hero or a baker,” you say casually. Katsuki breaks out into a snort, pressing his face deeper into your neck.

“God, I fuckin’ missed you, ya know that?” He chortles. Your chest blooms with something it hasn’t in years, and for the first time, you find that you don’t mind.

“Don’t be such a dick and maybe I’ll stick around this time,” you quip with a smile he can’t see. Though you feel his against the base of your neck.

“Noted.”

Katsuki’s last words hang in the air, unusually heavy, and your eyes catch the snow beating against the window with a less than angry howl. Katsuki’s chest shudders against your back but he doesn’t move, hands frozen at your waist.

“Hey, I thought you were gon—“

“I’m getting to it,” Katsuki snaps, and you gasp as he starts to push inside. “So fuckin’ impatient, goddamn.”

He pulls you down until he fills you completely, and you suppress the urge to shout at the speed he did it with. Katsuki moves a hand to slap over your mouth.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You reach around to pinch him in the side with a huff, he calls you a bitch. It’s a little hard to hear you behind his hand as you say, “Then don’t catch me off guard like that, asshole.”

Katsuki snaps his hips and does exactly what you tell him not to do—prompting another surprised whine out of you and a dark chuckle from the ash-blond. His cheek presses into your jaw as he finds leverage in hiking your lower half up until your puffy cunt is level with his cock, and fucking you until you drool all over the pillow.

“What a pretty fuckin’ thing,” Katsuki grunts, and you can tell he struggles to keep quiet in the way his chest sporadically shudders. You have to grip the pillow for some semblance of purchase and Katsuki chuckles at watching you struggle, before he’s hiking your leg up to fuck you that much deeper.

“I always—always knew you’d sound so good,” he pants, the grip around your mouth bordering on clammy. You want to tell him that if he keeps making so much noise he’ll wake up everyone in this fucking room, but there isn’t much time between moans to get more than a word in. “Fuck baby, keep tightening around me like that, and I might fuckin’ cum.”

You find it amusing how close he is so quickly, until two fingers land on your clit and start rubbing in slow, small circles. Your walls flutter around him and Katsuki digs his teeth into your neck with a curse, his grip around your raised thigh contracting as he tries to hold on for as long as he can.

And that’s when Denki starts to move.

First, he rolls to the left. Which would’ve been fine, seeing as it’s in the opposite direction until he bops Eijirou straight on the nose and promptly rouses the redhead from his slumber. Katsuki’s hips still.

“O-Ow, dick,” Eijirou curses under his breath, quickly scrambling to his forearms. It’s hard to tell through the darkness, mostly because you’re squinting your eyes to feign sleep, but it seems like Eijirou rubs under his nose, only to blink back at a bloody hand.

“...Shit.”

Katsuki’s hips shift, ever so slightly, but enough to nestle his cock deeper and force you to bite back a whine. And another. And then another.

You try your hardest to be discreet when you reach to pinch Katsuki in the side, and he breathes a laugh down your neck.

“What?” He whispers, though it's more than a rasp than anything else. Good to know you’re not the only one struggling to not cum, here.

“You know 'what,'” you quickly hiss. But Katsuki’s hips don’t stop as Eijirou weighs his options to cure his bloody nose in the dark. The fingers on your clit return their usual pressure and you inhale sharply, nails digging into Katsuki’s forearm as your orgasm begins creeping up on you.

Eijirou sniffles and gets up, stumbling through the darkness to turn down the hall that leads to the bedrooms. Katsuki sees that as fucking freedom and his hips really start to pick up so much speed that you struggle to breathe through it all.

“‘M gonna cum,” Katsuki whimpers into your neck, burying his face deeper in a poor attempt to stunt any sound. “Fuck, fuck ‘m gonna cum, you close baby?”

“Y-Yeah jus’ a little more,” you whimper, eyes rolling as Katsuki finds some inhumane energy in him to fuck faster. He nods at that and bites into your shoulder with a growl, “C’mon, fuckin’ cream all over my cock—atta girl, fuck, fuck—“

Katsuki fills you up the moment you clench around his cock with a sigh, the weight of your orgasm knocking you forehead-first into your pillow as you bite the urge to squeal. Katsuki doesn't growl as much as you expect, moans breathy and light as his hips finally stutter to a stop—but you suppose some things have to change over the years.

Katsuki collapses next to you in pure exhaustion and you’re sure that’s his cum leaking down your thigh, but for some reason, you don’t really mind.

“Hey you,” he speaks first, eyes blazing red in the darkness. You snort.

“Hey, you.”

Katsuki chuckles with a stupidly giddy smile on his face, "Y'know, you still fuck really well."

You drop your head on his chest to snort, and his hands find their rightful place around your waist.

"Better than high school?"

"Yeah..." Katsuki grumbles, before his eyes narrow. "Wait—hey, yo—"

"I haven't fucked anyone since," you snuff the fire before it even starts, and Katsuki relaxes, though his eyes stay slim. He pulls you closer and you sigh—it's comfortable.

"Good," he grunts. And then after a pregnant silence: "I haven't either."

That's...strangely reassuring.

Your arms wriggle until they fold over his shoulders to play with the small hairs on the back of his neck, and he hums, eyes fluttering shut with a final peck on the lips. As Katsuki's breathing evens and the white of the snow dyes the highest points of his face white, you smile. He looks older.

You think he's asleep until he nudges your waist.

"Be my girlfriend."

You don't even hesitate.

"Okay."

By the time Eijirou comes stumbling down the hall, both you and Katsuki are passed out—with his body encompassing yours in the most intimate way, face tucked into your hickey-ridden neck as your arms and legs lock around his being. The redhead gives you both a soft smile as he passes, snorting to himself.

“Took them long enough.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY THOTSUKI

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #bnha smut #bakugou smut #mha smut

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r0-boat · 3 years ago

Note

Hey r0! I'm pretty sure I'm sick so no attempt at writing a long smut fic tonight. But these past few days I have occasionally thought about, like, what if the MC has an illness when they get isekei'd into Hisui? Bronchitis or even just a chronic illness. You push yourself to the limit and accomplish everything possible to help the people of Hisui, coughing occasionally, but you don't seem worried about it, so no one else thinks too closely about it. On your rare days off though you find that you don't really have the energy to get up out of bed. You just curl up under your mountain of blankets, still shivering from the cold, and cough occasionally. I love thinking how the various guys of Hisui would react when they find out their beloved MC is chronically sick, and how they'd pamper you. Maybe even how they'd freak out if the first time they even noticed anything was wrong was just after the two of you ran into a pack of Alpha's. Of course you summoned your ppkemon and practically danced around all their attacks, and you two are just giggling and laughing after escaping the pack. All of a sudden you stop, pain washing over your face as you hunch over, coughing into your hand. Your whole frame seems to shake with the force of the coughs, and when you finally catch your breath and pull away your hand there's a bit of blood at the corner of your mouth/on your hand and you look miserable. How long have you been like this, why didn't they notice this before? How can they help you?

I guess I just need some sick MC in my life when sick myself lol.

( useless fun fact: did you know that they used to treat bronchitis with a mixture of garlic cinnamon and pepper way before modern medicine )

Extra: Cyllene despite being extremely harsh does favor you a lot and cares for your well-being so she would probably advise Ways help at least ease your pain a little bit. Their medicine may not be as technologically advanced in Hisui but it does help. She pretty much forces you under house arrest for a week you can no longer leave the village

Adaman is in FULL protection mode "mc are you sure you want to go out...? We don't want another incident here let me go with you" Adaman is terrified that kind of sickness could easily kill somebody... no amount of convincing can't unsee what he has experienced. All the ancient Diamond Clan remedies. Even if he's not completely sure what the illness is, one of them has to work

Ingo is worried sick and comes over a little too often. Occasionally coming by your house to check up on you and cook a meal for you. He'll sit down and talk with you to pass the time before leaving saying he'll come by later. Ingo tries not to worry you he tries to stay calm even though on the inside he's terrified at the thought of losing another person he loves.

Volo literally does everything and anything to help you from the smallest of tasks to giant errands. From getting stuff for you off the top shelf too going out and finding dazzling honey because you wanted something sweet and the store was out of them. You are the only one he's ever had these feelings for and it hurts him to see you in pain like this.

#ro.chatting #pokemon volo #pokemon adaman #pokemon warden ingo

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j-j-ehlby-writes · 3 years ago

Text

Almost (c.e.)

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Word Count: ~5.9k

Summary: You and Chris were set up on a blind date by your mutual friends. Sparks flew, but you never heard from him again. Two years later, you come face-to-face with him once more for their friends wedding.

Warnings: Some angst, swearing, not much else

A/N: This is a mixture of the movie “Life as We Know It” (mmm Daddy Josh Duhamel 🤤), a dating experience I had, and one scene from One Tree Hill. Enjoy.

My Masterlist

Two years ago…

My heart is pounding all the way to my ears. My hands are shaking under the table. My knee bounces uncontrollably as I wait.

I knew this was a bad idea. Why did I let her convince me to do this?

“You haven’t had a boyfriend for as long as I’ve known you.” My best friend so pointedly mentioned when we were out to lunch last week.

“What’s wrong with that?” I counter.

“I’ve known you for three and a half years.” She deadpans. Even without looking at her, I know she has her eyebrow raised at me and her lips are pursed.

“Your point?” I know she thinks my serious lack of companionship these past few years is wearing on me, but it’s been quite the opposite. Not being attached is freeing. I can do what I want when I want; I don’t have anyone to answer to. If I want to sleep until 3 on a Saturday, I’m going to do it. If I don’t want to socialize with anyone, I won’t. If I want to take a spontaneous road trip, I’m going to do it. My life is my own and that’s how I like it.

“I want my best friend to have someone to experience life with.”

My shoulders dropped, sighing in defeat. There was no way I was getting out of this conversation.

“I want you to be as happy as I am.” I see the love in her eyes as her mind goes to her boyfriend and their new relationship. They’ve only been together for a few months, but I know that this is it for her. She’s a smitten kitten and he is equally as infatuated with her. They’re sickeningly cute. “Which is why I think you need to meet one of his friends-”

“Lemme stop you right there,” I interrupt her, “I hate blind dates.”

“You’ve never been on one.”

“And there’s a reason for that.” She rolled her eyes at me. “They’re cliché, they’re awkward for both parties, and they never amount to anything, thus being a total waste of time.”

She sighed, “Ever the skeptic.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Regardless,” she continues, “I think you’ll really like this guy. He’s already expressed interest in you.”

Like that makes everything better. “Great so now I have to live up to his impossible expectations of me when I know absolutely nothing about him.” As if the idea of a blind date wasn’t bad enough, now it’s only a semi-blind date. There’s no doubt in my mind that she has hyped me up impossibly high, that’s what a best friend is for. However, when your confidence level is next to none and already skeptical of the pending meeting, there’s no way he’ll like who I am in reality.

“I can tell you anything you want to know about him.” She is bargaining with me. She really wants me to meet this guy. She wouldn’t be trying this hard if she didn’t believe we would hit it off.

“Well is he nice?” This was the only real question I had. If he isn’t kind then there’s really no future.

“Incredibly!” She continues to tell me of the many things he has done for a charity he started a few years ago and slowly but surely she was starting to convince me. If he was that generous then he has to have a good heart and therefore is a good man.

How bad could it be?

I check my phone, glancing at the time. Great, he’s late. That can’t be a good start.

Numerous reasons why popped into my head.

Reason one: he saw me and bolted.

Reason two: he got into an accident on the way here and he could be in the hospital.

Reason three: he changed his mind and decided to stand me up.

More and more played through my head as I sipped my drink.

By the time I was on my second drink, I was convinced he wasn’t showing up. I knew this was a ridiculous idea. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I never should have listened to her.

I chugged the rest of my drink followed by some water before standing up to leave some cash. I was slightly humiliated for actually thinking this would be any different than all of my expectations.

My shoulder rammed into another as I turned to leave.

“Oh my, God, I’m so sorry!” A hand steadied me, gently grabbing the shoulder he ran into. “Are you okay?”

“My already small ego is a little bruised, but I think I’ll live.” I looked up to meet my assaulter’s eyes and immediately I froze.

Holy shit, it’s Chris Evans.

His piercing blue eyes were staring right at me, his concern was directed towards me. In all of his charming, ray of sunshine, bearded glory, he was here.

“I’m so sorry that I’m late. Traffic was insane over the bridge. I would have called but I don’t have your number.” He half-smirked but not in a cocky way. I’d seen him do it in interviews before. He could have come up with a lame excuse, but somehow I knew he was telling the truth.

“No, it’s okay. I understand completely.”

He sighed in relief, his gorgeous and perfect smile taking over his features. He looked down at the table and it disappeared. “Were you leaving?”

“Uh,” I stammered, “I was because I thought I was being stood up.”

“I feel awful. Please let me make it up to you. Let’s sit down, have a nice dinner, and get to know each other.”

I hesitate, now even more nervous than I was before.

As if sensing my hesitation, he decided to sweeten the pot a bit to persuade me, “We can even get dessert.”

I chuckle at his attempt. That’ll do it though. I sit back down with him following suit, finally starting our date.

We talked about everything. Anything and everything. No topic was off limits. Hours went by but it felt like minutes. We didn’t even know how long we’d been there until our waiter came to tell us that the restaurant was closed. We left and walked around the city until the night sky was giving way to the morning. He accompanied me back to my car, gave me the best hug I’ve ever received and a kiss on the cheek, promising we’ll get together again soon, and opening and closing my car door for me. I drove away with the biggest smile on my face and literal butterflies in my stomach. That was the best date I’d ever been on.

When I made it back to my apartment with the early morning rays peeking through my shades, I had a text message waiting for me from him. Just a simple good night, he had had an amazing time, and he couldn’t wait to see me again.

I fell asleep, hopeful. Hopeful that I would see him again, that this could maybe go somewhere. I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but it was hard not to. I hadn’t felt this way in an exceptionally long time. I haven’t been on this good of a date in equally as long. I can’t wait to see him again…

Present day...

I finally pull into the parking lot after an hour stuck in traffic. My 12-hour day at work today has taken a lot out of me. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. Thankfully though, my 2-week-long vacation starts tomorrow. After that, I have fourteen days of no working, no getting up at the ass crack of dawn to be able to drive in miserable traffic, no dealing with difficult or boring co-workers. Just fourteen days of rest and relaxation, after the wedding of course.

My best friend and her fiancé are getting married on Saturday. I’ve watched them go through all of their highs and lows throughout the last few years and when he came to me telling me he planned on proposing, I couldn’t have been happier for them. He even asked me to secretly photograph the moment for her. She was more than surprised about everything.

Now their wedding is here and everyone couldn’t be more excited to celebrate them.

Tomorrow is their rehearsal dinner. The wedding party and their plus ones are all invited.

I walk into my apartment, immediately relieving myself from the confines of my shoes. A heavenly scent registers to me and I’m carried all the way to the kitchen. I see my sexy boyfriend standing at the stove with his back towards me.

“Hey babe,” he calls without turning around.

I hum, happily making my way towards him. I wrap my arms around his waist, placing a kiss on his back. “What is that unbelievable smell?”

He chuckles, vibrating through his chest. “Your favorite, of course.”

I hum again, “You spoil me, baby.”

He chuckles again, turning in my arms. His handsome face finally came into view. His gorgeous brown eyes look into mine as I get lost in his. For the past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve been in a while. Since the day I met him, it was like everything fell into place. He’s sweet, ambitious, funny, kindhearted, passionate, and just overall the best man I had ever met. He makes me so happy…

Oh who am I kidding? He’s perfect. He is everything I ever wanted. If I made a list of all of the qualities I wanted in a husband, he would check off every single box.

But the feelings I have had for him over the last year are nothing compared to what I had in one night for him. I find myself wishing his eyes were bright blue instead of dark brown. I wish his arms were around me instead of the ones around me right now. The butterflies from that night have stayed dormant ever since.

I don’t know what happened after that night. I honestly thought we had a good time that night. Conversations flowed seamlessly. We made each other laugh so hard we had tears running down our faces. The physical connection was there- at first he had his arm around my shoulders as we walked around town, but as time went on he slowly moved lower around my waist, eventually intertwining our hands together until we arrived back at our cars. He even said that he wanted to see me again.

But I never heard from him again after that one text message. No call, no text, not even a message from my friend’s boyfriend. Nothing. I was disappointed beyond belief. I didn’t think he was that guy: the type to ditch someone without any explanation or goodbye. I thought I understood him to be a gentleman. Everything I had read about him pointed to him being one of the purest humans in the world. This was the opposite of all of that.

From that day on, I’ve loathed him. He gave me the perfect evening and then cut me off cold turkey from anything further. I have a three strike rule. His first: he was late. His second: he tricked me into liking him. His third: he lied to me. Three strikes and he’s out.

I have tried not to look back since. It’s not without its difficulties though since he’s literally everywhere. On magazine covers, in commercials, movie trailers, streaming services- he’s there. Why did he have to be such a successful actor? If he weren’t, it would make for forgetting him that much easier.

No closure. No answers. Nothing.

The rehearsal dinner went smoothly the next night which hopefully was foreshadowing for the big day itself.

A majority of us were standing around about to start when the doors loudly being opened drew everyone’s attention away from our milling about. A man stood in the middle of the doorway then strode in like he owned the place. The closer he got, the more the details of his face came into focus.

No. Freaking. Way.

I look toward my best friend. She looked like she wasn’t shocked he was late, but she knew he was coming. I creep up behind her and clear my throat. Instantly she cringed.

“Did you forget to tell me something?” I whisper to her.

She sends me an apologetic smile, “Well, I actually put off telling you ‘cause I didn’t know how you would react and then I meant to tell you last night but with the whole ‘I’m getting married in two days’ buzz took over and now the rehearsal is here-”

“Just please tell me I’m not walking in with him.” I beg.

She chuckles nervously before she escaped to go greet him with her fiancé.

I turn to her sister who is also one of my closest friends. “Did you know he was going to be a groomsman?”

The guilt written in her face tells me everything I need to know. “She made me promise not to tell you.”

I groan, “The loyalty level around here is staggeringly low.”

I head over to where my boyfriend is standing and take comfort in his arms before I have to deal with the man who broke my heart.

“Are you okay?” He asks a little confused by my actions.

I nod, “Just tired from last night.” He chuckles at the mention of the night before, squeezing me into his chest.

“Alright everyone! Time to get started.” The wedding coordinator beckons us all to the back entrance of the barn standing next to our corresponding wedding party member. I stand right in front of the Maid of Honor and Best Man. I kept my eyes forward focusing on anything but the guy who took his place next to me.

“It’s good to see you,” He murmurs to me over the instructions of the coordinator.

I scoff and roll my eyes. He has the nerve to say that to me after two years of silence. I imagined a million times what it would be like to see him again. I’d imagined a lot of screaming with possible hitting. Or I thought about the ever-effective, old fashioned silent treatment. He doesn’t deserve to know that our one night out together effected me so much and I’ve carried a rather large torch for him ever since. At the very moment, it will be the latter, but there’s no telling what tonight and tomorrow will bring.

“Now ladies, rest- don’t grab- your hand near the crook of his arm. Men, keep your arm at that angle with an open hand resting on your stomach- no fist. And don’t forget to smile- this is a happy day!” As quickly as he showed up, the coordinator was on to the bride and her father before either of us could register he was there.

I begrudgingly did as I was instructed, “resting” my hand on his bare forearm, holding a stand-in bouquet for the occasion in my other hand.

“Are you not going to talk to me?” He speaks again but I ignore him once more.

Thankfully that was when it was our turn to walk down the aisle. For the rest of the rehearsal, he didn’t get a chance to say anything else. As soon as we were done, I go straight for my boyfriend. I figured there’s no way he would approach me if I were with another man.

We all head to the restaurant afterwards to celebrate the last night before our friends begin their lives together as husband and wife. I keep my distance from Chris, always sticking close with my boyfriend.

The one moment I was alone was when I went to the bathroom. I thought for the few minutes I wouldn’t be in danger.

However I was wrong.

As soon as I step out an arm shot out in front of me. A very pale muscular arm.

“Are you seriously going to ignore me for the next two days?”

I duck under his arm fully planning on continuing what I set out to do.

“Y/N,” he grabs my arm, “will you please talk to me? What did I do to make you so mad at me?”

I whip around hopefully sending daggers his way. “Are you serious right now?”

“She finally speaks!” He exclaims.

“Because I cannot believe what I’m hearing. Like, I don’t think I heard you right.” All of the feelings I’ve been burying for two years were making their way up to the surface and I don’t think I can stop them. “We had a fantastic night. It was literally the best night of my life, it was the most comfortable with a guy that I had ever been. You made me laugh, you gave me butterflies, you helped me feel for the first time in years.” I try to swallow down the lump that was forming in my throat. “You told me you wanted to see me again. You made me excited for the future for once in my life… and then you took it away.”

With every second that passed, his expression got closer and closer to utter defeat: his shoulders slumped, his grip on my arm loosened, his jaw slowly unclenched, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You were late,” I hold up one finger, “You tricked me,” two fingers,” “You lied to me.” Three fingers were up and in front of his face for emphasis. “Three strikes and you’re out.”

I back away from him, having nothing more I wanted to say. As soon as I turned the corner, I felt liberated… for about five seconds. When that passed, devastation hit. For the last two years, I’ve held out hope- I tried not to- but I did, that maybe someday something could happen between us. That maybe, just maybe, we could pick up where we left off that night.

Now that the moment of confrontation has come and gone, I feel all the hope fade away. All of those possibilities I pictured have left the building. Being with him is no longer an option. I have my boyfriend who makes me happy, who gives me everything I could possibly want.

The rest of the night went on without another incident. Chris kept his distance. However, I could feel his eyes on me for every second that passed as we sat at the table. It was a relief when we finally left and could retreat back to our hotel rooms for the night. The bride and I got to stay in a suite that we’ll all be getting ready in in the morning. They wanted to uphold the “not seeing each other the night before the wedding,” even though they’ve lived with each other for a year and a half now.

On the wedding day, everything went according to plan. Everyone was on time to hair and make-up, pictures went flawlessly, the weather cooperated with everything, Chris didn’t attempt to talk to me at all- it was a perfect day to watch two people who love each other commit to the other for the rest of their lives.

But then came the reception. That’s when I knew apparently all bets would be off. The ceremony was over. Niceties would wear off as more and more alcohol is consumed. I was not looking forward to it.

We make our ridiculous entrances and take our seats at the head table. We eat then speeches were made. Lots of laughs were had as the Best Man dished on stories he had with the groom growing up, a few tears were shed at her sister’s after recounting the moment the bride knew he was the man of her dreams- overall I’d say they were a success.

Again, I felt his eyes on me, burning holes in the side of my head from the other side of the groom for the entire dining portion of the evening. I kept myself from glancing in his direction, instead focusing on the conversations with the bride’s sister next to me and my boyfriend who is across the way- anything not to meet his eyes.

Finally the DJ announces it was time for all to convene on the dancefloor after the specialty dances. I immediately see my boyfriend start to stand, knowing he’d been ready for this all night. I’d been looking forward to dancing with him all night as well, I even removed my shoes in anticipation. As I stand up, a hand is held out in front of me. I knew whose hand it was. I remember staring at it as he would rub his lips on our date. The strength of it as it intertwined with mine as we walked down the streets of our town, the safeness I felt as he squeezed it if he detected I was getting anxious around a group of people and I needed the reassurance. I knew that hand well, unfortunately.

“Dance with me?” He nearly whispers in my ear. I didn’t realize he was that close until I could feel said whisper on my neck. I contain the shiver that runs down my spine at how husky his voice is. God I’ve missed that…

No! I will not be enchanted by him again. He does not deserve me.

I exhale the breath I was holding, it comes out a lot harsher than I expected. “No, thank you.” I turn away from him, but his hand gently grabs my arm stopping me from going any further.

He whispers again, “He’s not good enough for you,” before walking away.

I’m frozen in place. I glare at his retreating back as he makes his way over to the bar. My mouth hangs open in disbelief. How dare he… How fucking dare he assume anything about me or my relationship. He doesn’t know anything about what our relationship is like. My boyfriend treats me so well, spoils me even though I know I don’t deserve it. He listens to me, he cares about me, and he makes me laugh until I cry- he’s everything I’ve wanted in a man. Chris is the one who had his chance and subsequently blew it. He has no right to judge or even comment on my relationship when he knows absolutely nothing about it.

I hurriedly make my way to my awaiting boyfriend and pull him onto the crowded dancefloor. “You okay?” He asks me, “Did he say something to upset you?”

“Nothing worth repeating.” All I wanted to do was forget about him and his irrelevant feelings towards my relationship…

…Except I couldn’t. His words rattled me. Does he see something I don’t? He told me on our date that he’s an excellent judge of character so he wouldn’t say something like that unless he got a bad feeling, right? Either that or he said it just to get under my skin and force me to talk to him. No matter the reason I hate him for it because my pride won’t let it stand.

I spot him leaning against the bar, staring directly at the two of us over the rim of his glass. His perfect eyebrow quirks up at the eye contact, that sets my blood to boiling. He thinks he’s so smug. I wish I could just slap that stupid hidden smirk right off his perfect face…

Following a few dances, I mutter something about him going to dance with the bride to my boyfriend before exiting the dancefloor. I rush out of the barn, away from the crowd needing some air from his suffocating gaze. I find a little lit area that’s perfect for pictures. There are rectangular hay bales set together as a makeshift U-shaped bench with some low watt bulbs strung up above between two poles. It would be serene if I weren’t already on edge.

After taking a few deep breaths, I finally feel like I can speak without yelling. “You had no right.”

I didn’t have to turn around to know he followed me out here. It’s exactly what I wanted him to do, just like it was his intention to get under my skin. As much as I wished to avoid this conversation it seems that we can’t go on without it. We may tear each other apart in the process, but this is my chance for closure. This is my only opportunity to get the answers I’ve been needing to move on for the past two years. Two years of wondering what went wrong after the most perfect date I’ve ever been on with an equally perfect man has been eating at my heart and mind. I hated always wondering “what if” or “what would I be doing right now if I were with him” especially when I started dating my boyfriend. I had no answers as to why those questions could not be. I thought with time I’d stop asking them, thinking I’d never see the man again. He’s a big movie star, why would he wonder about a woman he went on one date with?

As I expected, his deep baritone voice comes behind me, but his words do little to ease my nerves. In fact they set them off even more so than before. “I’m sorry.”

I scoff at his half-hearted apology, knowing he doesn’t mean it at all. “Oh bite me, Christopher.” I turn around to face him. God he looks even better out here. The subtle gold glow from the lights are complimenting his skin tone, they make his baby blues shine which just frustrates me more.

“Please, Y/N,-” He takes a step closer to me, but I won’t have that.

“No,” I take a step back keeping the needed distance between us for fear I may strangle him. “I don’t want to hear any of your bullshit excuses. You had no right to pass judgment on a relationship that you know absolutely nothing about.”

He slips his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “Oh, I’ve seen enough.”

“Really?” I jut my hip out, resting my hand on it. “In the two days you’ve been here, you think you’ve got us all figured out?”

“Yes,” he answers with conviction.

My shaking hands clench into fists, trying my damnedest not to lose control. I entangle them into my hair as best as I can without ruining the work the hairstylist did this morning before running them down my face. He has some nerve.

“We had one night. One night! One nearly perfect night together and suddenly that makes you an expert on what is good for me?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘an expert’-”

“I wouldn’t say anything!” I interrupt, “I never heard from you again. Now after two years, you come in here acting like you know anything about me or my relationship? Who do you think you are?”

“A man who made a mistake!” He snaps.

There was a long pause. I never expected to hear that from him. All these years I wanted to think the worst of him for leaving me hanging like that. He got my hopes up, thinking we may have a future together only for them to come crashing back down to Earth when he never contacted me again. I wondered and wondered if maybe I read the signals wrong. Maybe I took his flirting as more than it was. Maybe the small gestures like his arm around my shoulders, on the small of my back, or the hand holding were only him being friendly. I wracked my brain going over every single detail of the night to try and pinpoint a reason for him not to have called me afterwards. I found nothing, which was equally as frustrating.

“Alright, I made a mistake.” He moves to sit on one of the hay bales. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, letting out a huge sigh. “God I wanted everything with you.”

Once again, I’m frozen by his words. He what? But that doesn’t make sense. His words and his actions don’t line up- how could that be?

He removes his hands from his face, staring at the grass. “After that night, I wanted it all. I wanted to settle down, get the house with a white picket fence in the suburbs, carry you through the threshold after our wedding day, bring our children home from the hospital, watch them grow until we’re old and gray. I wanted everything.”

My heart aches. All of that was exactly what I wanted, especially with him. I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, my heart breaking mourning the loss of what we could have had by now if he had only said something.

I also find my anger growing as well. If he felt all of that, why did he not contact me again? Why did he give me hope that our night out together could have been the start of something good and then taken it away just as quickly?

“But?” There had to be a “but” coming after his statement. Clearly something stopped him from pursuing the possibility of “us,” destroying any future we could have had.

He sighs, “but…” he finally looks up at me with more emotion in his eyes than I was expecting. There was contemplation, confusion, honesty, agony…

I look away. In an instant I knew what he was about to say. It makes complete sense. He was at the height of his career, shooting movie after movie all around the world for a majority of the year. How would he have had time to have a relationship mixed in with that? He couldn’t.

“Your career was more important,” I interject, “I get it. I do.” I couldn’t fault him for choosing work over someone he just met, no matter how much he claims to have liked me right off the bat. He was going to be busy. We probably wouldn’t have had a lot of time to see each other. It’s not like I could give up my career to follow him. Besides even if I could have, he wouldn’t want that. He said so himself. He wanted someone who was independent; who could do their own thing and not be enveloped in his crazy life.

He stands up and steps closer to me, “no, that wasn’t it. I promise you that wasn’t it.”

There’s that word. Promise. He promised we’d see each other again soon after our night together. But he broke that.

“Then what was it?” My voice cracks at the end. I can feel my reserves slipping the more he speaks. I didn’t realize how much I missed his voice until now. I haven’t seen any of the movies he’s been in the last few years. I have him and his hashtag blocked on all social media platforms so I don’t see anything of his on any of my timelines. My other friends think I don’t like him (only my best friend and her now husband know about our date). To hear it again brings back all of the good memories we made together in that short night and all of the emotions I’ve been holding back since. “I have been wracking my brain for years wondering what went wrong after that.”

“I got scared,” he finally admits the truth. “I got scared of how much I liked you and how much I wanted to protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me,” he casts his gaze down at his hands as he fidgets with them, “and my life. I didn’t want to subject you to the chaos that is my life. I know what my fans would do to you if we were in a relationship, I was trying to protect you from all of the ugly that being with me comes with.”

So that’s what he was afraid of? He was afraid our relationship would inevitably end exactly like his last one? His “fans” were horrible to her. They sent death threats to her and her family members, always commenting negatively on her social media pages all because she was dating him. I remember reading about it right after it happened. I knew that side of his fandom was toxic. But did I care? No. Did I think I couldn’t handle it? I honestly don’t know, but would I have been willing to deal with it for him? Yes. I would have given up anything to be with him. That’s precisely why he did what he did. He didn’t want me giving anything up for him because he knows I’d be giving up any semblance of privacy I had if I were in a public relationship with him.

If I had known these were the reasons why he ghosted me, I would have been broken hearted but I would have understood. Hell, I probably would have fallen more in love with him if I knew that, not fallen in loathe.

He continues, “I thought that if I never contacted you again, you could move on”- he clears his throat-“and find someone better than me who could give you the normal life you deserve. Which as much as I wish I couldn’t, I see that you have…” he pauses as if deciding whether he should keep speaking. When I don’t stop him, he does, “But I can’t help feeling like that could have been me.”

My slightly shaky hands cover his fidgeting ones. His hand moves until he’s intertwining our fingers together, palms touching. They fit perfectly together as if they were each other’s missing puzzle piece. His thumbs stroke mine sending warmth down my arms all the way down to my toes. The sparks I felt back then return with full force. He leans down, pressing his forehead against mine. My heart is beating out of my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t feel it in some way.

I feel my heart break in my chest. My lip quivers and the tears threaten to make themselves known. My only saving grace is the fact that he can’t see my face. I may lose it completely if he did.

His breath is coming out equally as shaky between us, he squeezes my hands as if he doesn’t want me to let go. Believe me, I don’t want to. I bring one of our interlocked hands up to my lips. I kiss the back of his hand because I can’t kiss him where I want to. I pull back just enough to see his beautiful baby blues that could have any woman in the world swoon. They were terribly bloodshot right now but that only made them more tragically breathtaking. I tear one of my hands out of his and bring it to his cheek. He leans into it, a tear drops into the crevices between the contact.

The barely above whisper that came out was all I could muster without having a total breakdown because he’s right. It could have been him. We could have been something great. We could have built a life together. We could have had it all. And it broke my heart into a million pieces knowing all of this could have been avoided if life had handed both of us different lives.

“It almost was.”

~*~

Taglist: @the-marvel-wars @elusive-beauty @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality @princess-evans-addict

#almost #Chris Evans #christopher robert evans #christopher evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans drabble #chris evans oneshot #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #jj ehlby writes

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pilothusband · 4 years ago

Text

fly me to the moon

Rating: M-ish (a lil spicy at the end)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, boner mention, a douchebag, a little hint at food shaming

Word count: 2.5k

Description: You go on a date with a complete asshole. He takes you on a helicopter tour, not expecting the pilot to be the one to sweep you off your feet.

Author’s note: Probably should have edited this more but meh. This was completely self-indulgent. Unbeta’d. Let me know what you think!

gif by @pedroispunk

Why did I agree to go out with this jackass in the first place?

Your eyes were starting to feel sore with the amount of times you had rolled them throughout your date. He hadn’t noticed the exasperated movement of your eyes, too swept up in talking about the summer he spent in Ibiza with his former fraternity brothers, his medium rare, overpriced ribeye untouched.

So far, everything had felt off. The way he pulled up outside of your apartment and honked his horn to signal his arrival, the anchor cufflinks in his freshly pressed suit, paired with a pair of leather boat shoes and a salmon-pink button down. You loved a man in pink, but the rest of the outfit just felt like it didn’t fit together. Was he going to a wedding or going to party on a yacht? You had glanced down at your own outfit, a simple black dress that stopped mid-calf and hung loose, just barely hinting at your curves.

God, you hoped he wasn’t going to take you on a boat.

You had only agreed to this date in the first place because Liam, an investment banker who worked in your office building in the suite below yours, had asked you nearly every day for a month in a row. He was persistent, kind of like a mosquito, but you figured you were being too picky and needed to expand your horizons a bit. Maybe you would learn more about him and actually have a good time.

Not so much.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his brows knit together when you had ordered the fettuccine alfredo. The restaurant’s menu was pretty limited, and you didn’t recognize most of the items. This place was just too fancy for your comfort. You had wanted to call the waiter back to the table and change your order to a cheeseburger, just to embarrass him further.

As Liam droned on about how his father had taught him how to manage his finances, you let your mind wander to last weekend. You had gone out with your friends, Benny and Will, a pair of brothers who were each other’s polar opposites, yet they had a bond that was stronger than any other siblings you had ever met.

You were already well acquainted with their other friends, Santiago and Frankie, affectionately known as Pope and Catfish. Pope had a magnetic personality– he commanded the room without meaning to, sometimes to the detriment of others around him, who were trying to get a word in edgewise.

Frankie was complicated. He was quiet, a little rough around the edges, and a little gruff, but so soft at the same time. His eyes gave way to a deeply settled kind of hurt. They had drawn you in almost right away. It only took one glance at his smile, brilliant and boyish, with a hint of a dimple gracing his cheek, before you were hooked.

You had only known him for a few months now and only saw him when the guys got together, but you couldn’t deny the desire that clutched at your stomach whenever his deep brown eyes met yours.

You heard your date call your name, snapping you out of your daydream.

“You ready for part two of the best date ever?” Liam asked. His smirk was all wrong. It wasn’t soft or playful. It was polished and practiced. He reminded you too much of Patrick Bateman.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said, pasting a smile onto your face, inwardly wincing at how fake it was. You could not wait to go home and put on your sweatpants.

Shit. Holy shit.

He was taking you on a helicopter tour. The same company that Catfish worked for. Your stomach was in knots, threatening an unwelcome return of the alfredo you had for lunch.

Maybe he’s not working today, maybe we’ll get a different pil–

Of course you had no such luck. The guide ushered you both over towards the launching pad, where Frankie stood, wearing a tan flight suit. His hair was tousled, likely from being up in the air for most of the day and he had a pair of aviators on. He looked delectable.

His eyebrows shot up in recognition. He cocked his head to the side, glancing at your date, then back at you, a grimace set on his face.

Frankie schooled his expression and walked up and gave you a side hug, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Good to see you,” he said, giving you a small grin.

“You two know each other?” Liam asked, his eyes shifting between the two of you.

“Oh, yes, Liam– this is Frankie. He’s one of my friends.”

Friends.

“Nice to meet you, Liam,” Frankie said, shaking his hand politely.

Liam gave Frankie one of his wide, practiced grins. “Likewise.”

You could have sworn you saw Liam wince a little during the handshake, but you chalked it up to pre-flight jitters. Liam slung an arm around your shoulder possessively and chuckled.

“Excited to show this pretty lady some pretty sights.” His fingers curled into your shoulder, a little too hard, and he jostled you a little, trying to come off as a cute gesture. It had you feeling like a rag doll.

The smile you gave him must have been pretty forced, because Frankie coughed, interrupting the moment.

“All right, folks. Ready to get going?”

You nodded, feeling a fluttering in your belly. Despite not wanting to be stuck in a helicopter with Liam, you were excited to finally see Frankie in action.

Frankie handed you both a pair of headsets and instructed you to buckle up. Before climbing in himself, he checked Liam’s belt, tightening it a little and then came over to your side, adjusting your belt as well. You risked a peek at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

“All set,” he murmured, giving you a soft smile.

Before you knew it, Frankie was in the pilot’s seat and the helicopter roared to life. The blades were whirring above your heads, making your hair whip around your face. You tucked the sides of your dress under your legs, silently cursing Liam for not warning you of this afternoon’s non-dress appropriate activity.

The swoop you felt in your stomach was unlike anything you had felt before, more intense than a commercial flight. You tried not to fidget, knowing you were in good hands with Frankie piloting, but fuck, were you already high up, and only climbing higher by the second.

You briefly wondered how high up you were now, how high up Frankie had ever flown. You planned on asking him once you were all safely back on the ground.

A large gust of wind made its way into the helicopter, forcing a shiver down your spine, goosebumps rising on your woefully unprotected arms.

“You cold, sweetie?” Liam asked. “I would give you my jacket but I need it to stay warm. You should have planned better, gorgeous.”

You instantly clenched your teeth, wishing murder was legal at this very moment.

“Well, Liam, I would have brought a jacket if you had told me we were coming here,” you said, voice dripping with a sarcastic, syrupy sweet tone.

“I have a jacket in the compartment in front of you,” Frankie said, glancing over quickly. “Go ahead and put it on.”

You obliged, opening the compartment and bundling up in the oversized jacket, instantly feeling better once the corduroy material covered your arms. You wrapped it around your torso and took a deep breath, hiding your grin in the sherpa collar. It smelled like him.

“Thank you, ‘Fish,” you said softly. He didn’t respond, but you saw his dimple appear out of the corner of your eye.

“All good back there?” You heard Frankie’s voice in your ears. You looked over to him, only catching a glimpse of his hands and the side of his face, partially obscured by his headset and his baseball cap.

“Doing fan-tas-tic, Frank,” Liam whooped. You couldn’t help but wince at how loud his voice was, and how he intentionally pronounced Frankie’s name incorrectly.

“Great,” Frankie sounded unamused.

You huffed, annoyed at your date’s bad manners and looked out the window. Terrible date aside, you had to admit the bay from above was absolutely gorgeous. You looked down at the ocean, so expansive and eternally blue. Your eyes skimmed over to where water met land, at the soft sand on the beach, turning into a thick forest.

“Frankie, it’s beautiful,” you gasped.

You looked over at him briefly, seeing a hint of a smile on his face.

Liam was momentarily forgotten, until his hand snaked its way onto your thigh, giving it a little squeeze. Instinctually, you moved your leg at the unwanted contact. Liam looked over at you, an ugly scowl marring his face.

“Careful with the turns in this thing,” he said, addressing Frankie. “Our girl here ate about 15 pounds of pasta before this.”

You felt a hot wave of embarrassment wash over you, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. They streaked down into your hairline from the force of the wind around you. You had already realized Liam was a bit of a douche, but you hadn’t thought him to be cruel.

“The only thing we have to worry about bringing this thing down is that big head of yours,” Frankie quipped back.

Biting back a laugh, you looked out the window so Liam wouldn’t see your reaction.

You could tell Liam wanted to argue back, but he stayed quiet, since the man he wanted to lash out at was responsible for keeping you all alive at the moment.

The rest of the ride was pretty quiet, other than the persistent chopping of the helicopter blades. The views were beautiful, but you found your eyes wandering back over to Frankie every few minutes. The tanned skin of his hands as he deftly worked at the throttle. Every time he pulled on a control you saw the veins in his forearms strain with the movement. You wondered what else those hands could do.

Before you knew it, the bird touched down and you unbuckled your seatbelt, removing the tight headset from your ears. You had a slight headache and you could tell getting down was going to be a struggle.

Frankie seemed to have no issue, jumping out of his seat with grace and walking over to your side to help you down. Your legs were shaking, so you stumbled as your feet hit the ground, grabbing onto his broad shoulders for dear life.

“I– oof, sorry,” you laughed nervously, rubbing your nose. You had bumped into his chest nearly smashing your face into his sternum. Frankie bit his lip and chuckled in response, squeezing your waist. You felt dizzy with his arms caging you in like this. It gave you an overwhelming desire to wrap yourself around him, to feel him pressed against you.

“It’s okay, I got you.” His voice rumbled in your ear, absolutely sending your senses on a tailspin. His strong, quiet voice was doing something magical to your already weak knees.

You stepped away before you fell over, remembering your date after a moment. He was about ten feet away, arms crossed, his face pinched in an angry expression.

“I don’t think this is working out,” he said as you walked over to him.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you said, giving him a sickly sweet grin. “I’ll find another ride home.”

Liam scoffed and made his way back into the tour center to grab his belongings. You instantly felt a weight lift off your shoulders. Thank God he left.

“So, why did you go out with that asshole, anyways?” Frankie asked, a bewildered expression on his face.

You sighed, feeling embarrassed.

“I honestly don’t know. He wouldn’t leave me alone so I decided to give him a shot.”

“I can’t say I blame him for being persistent, but seriously, fuck that guy.”

You huffed a laugh.

“Seriously, when he made that comment about what you ate for lunch I wanted to throw him right out of the helicopter.”

You bit your lip and sniffed, feeling the embarrassment wash over you at the memory.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” your voice was small and you rubbed at your arms nervously.

Frankie had a hard, angry look on his face. It made you feel a little giddy, that he was so angry on your behalf.

“He should have never talked to you that way. He’s lucky you agreed to go out with his sorry ass.”

“You’re right. And God, I can’t believe he took me here, of all places,” you laughed. This really was surreal.

“Feels kind of like fate, huh?” He said, giving you a boyish grin.

“How so?”

“Well,” he stepped towards you, arms sliding up the material of his jacket. “I’ve always wanted to see you in this jacket.” His gaze made its way down your figure. His eyes were dark as he swallowed heavily.

“And I’ve always wanted to go on a date with you, though not while you’re on one with another man.” The smile he gave you was shy, searching, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d react.

“Well, I won’t be making that mistake again,” you replied, stepping closer.

Your tongue came out to wet your lips and Frankie watched with rapture.

“I’d like to kiss you now, if that’s okay.” His mouth was an inch from yours, and his large, calloused hands cradled your face gently.

“Please, Frankie,” you sighed.

His lips were soft, despite the bruising urgency in his actions. Your hands immediately tangled into his hair, knocking the cap off his head. You melted against him and licked his bottom lip, asking for permission. He immediately complied, licking into your mouth. Your tongues found a delicious rhythm, tangling together. You moaned into his mouth, spurring him on further. His hips pressed into yours. You could feel how hard he was, even through his flight suit.

“Fuck, baby” he rasped, pulling away. His chest was heaving, breath ragged from your kiss. “The things I want to do to you.”

You slanted your hips back into his, pressing into his erection. “Then do them.”

Frankie bit his lip and groaned, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re absolutely perfect for me, you know that?”

You grinned, leaning forward to capture his lips again.

“I want to do this right, though,” he said. “I’m going to take you out on a better date. Show you how first dates should go. And then I’m going to take you home and show you how much I’ve wanted you for months.”

You felt as if your heart had stopped momentarily.

“That sounds perfect to me,” you said, kissing him again.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #tw food mention

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ratmonky · 4 years ago

Text

Blockbuster

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: dub-con, obsession

AO3 Link

“This week’s movie is…” you paused for the dramatic effect and met each one of your club members’ eyes before pulling out the DVD case from your bag. “Sweet Blossoms!”

Everyone groaned.

“Hey!” you laughed, putting the movie down on the desk. A gorgeous smile tugged at your lips. “It’s my turn so I get to choose!”

“You always choose the worst ones,” your classmate mumbled. “I’m sick of watching romantic comedies. Besides, this is one of the last times we’ll watch a movie in our club.”

Yeah, the graduation was close.

You pouted, giving one person, in particular, the puppy eyes. “Junpei,” you said. “Tell them something, you’re the president.”

Junpei chuckled nervously when you put him on the spot like that. “Haha, I… We made a promise to let one of us choose a movie each week, we should keep our promise.”

“I’m not watching that,” the other club member said. “We’re here to watch movies we appreciate, not whatever dumpster trash you like.”

Although the other two members were being mean, they were right.

“Guys,” Junpei was unsure to say something. He could see how your smile vanished, your shoulders slackened as you flipped the DVD to its back so you wouldn’t need to see the cover title. “It’s her turn to choose.”

“Nevermind,” you uttered, putting the DVD back in your bag. “They’re right. I was being selfish. You can skip my turn.”

“But-”

“Great! I rented Pulp Fiction yesterday and brought it with me.” Your classmate dove his hand inside his bag to fish out the DVD.

Junpei noticed the way your lower lip trembled and you pressing your lips together to hide it. When your gaze met him, you forced a smile on your face, mouthing that it was alright.

You were just like him.

He got up from his seat to sit next to you as your classmate put the movie in the DVD player. It was nothing unusual, most of you sat together to make small comments during a movie.

You pushed your stuff on the desk to the side so he could have some space to put his bag.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the movie had already started.

“There’s no reason for you to apologize,” you softly stated, leaning closer to keep your voice down and not disturb the movie. “It was my fault.”

“Still, we gather here to watch movies our members enjoyed. We’re not actual film critics or anything.” He was trying not to lower his gaze to your chest. One of the buttons had come undone on your shirt, he could see your bra. “Next week is my turn, I can rent the movie you wanted to watch so we can watch it. They won’t complain then.”

Your eyes widened and he could swear that he saw them sparkle. A second later, you dropped your gaze to your lap to fidget with your fingers. “Nevermind, it’ll cause trouble. It’s passive-aggressive and I don’t wanna cause trouble for anyone. Nobody wanna watch the movie I chose anyway.”

“I do,” he whispered, cheeks flushing. While you weren’t looking he had gotten a chance to peek inside your shirt.

Lifting your head, you looked up at him with the prettiest and the most genuine smile he had ever seen. “Really?”

He nodded in affirmation, “We can watch it together after school if y-you wanna.”

“Shh!” The oldest club member turned and pointed two fingers at you and then to his eyes. “No flirting in the losers club.”

Both of you got quiet and it took you a long moment before leaning closer to tell Junpei something.

“So, where will we watch the movie?”

That was how he ended up bringing you to his place. You awkwardly sat on his bed and he tried to stop his shaking hands.

“I wish I had a television in my room too,” you said, starting a conversation to ease the mood. “You’re so lucky, Jun!”

Calling him nicknames like that… you were trying to make him delirious. “I-it’s nothing, it’s some old thing I got from second hand.”

“Still!”

He heard a rustling sound. Once he was done with putting the movie in the DVD player, he whipped his head around to check what you were doing.

His breathing almost stopped when he saw you laying on his bed and checking your phone. You were moving your legs up on the air as you scrolled down some social media platform. Your skirt wasn’t long enough to cover the supple flesh of your thighs, they were squished together and because you were laying on your chest, the skirt’s fabric was relaxed on your ass, leaving not much to the imagination.

Junpei gulped audibly and averted his gaze. “The movie.” That was all he managed to say.

You hummed and sat up on his bed as he took a place next to you. He couldn’t understand why you were so careless, didn’t you think of him as a man?

No, you were purely naive. Not at all aware of the real dangers of the world. Not at all aware of what kind of thoughts about you went through his mind every single day.

The movie opened with the female lead who from her first appearance stated that she was the manic pixie dream girl getting some flowers from a secret admirer despite having a boyfriend.

It was simply trash. That was the only way he could describe the storyline or the mood of the movie. On his own, under any condition, Junpei wouldn’t pick this garbage up and sit through it but since you wanted to watch it… he had to endure it.

You, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the movie. Hands on your lap, gasping every now and then when the male lead encouraged the female lead to dump her boyfriend with his shitty compliments.

He found it kind of amusing to watch you react to the movie rather than watch it himself. Soon enough his gaze dropped to your lap. Under the skirt were your bare legs and you were sitting on his bed. Your ass was placed on his bed. The thought of your panties touching the sheets of his bed made his thoughts go south. If you got wet right now, you could soak his sheets.

Slowly, you shifted on his bed, getting in a more comfortable position to watch the movie. Unbeknownst to you, he had a better view of your cleavage now, it was only natural that he couldn’t look away. As vulnerable you were, he was still a man and like any other man, Junpei couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing.

What color panties were you wearing? If he lifted your skirt up to check, would you be surprised? You wouldn’t push him away, that was for sure. You came here all on your own after all, laying on his bed like that and looking like this… There was no doubt you were basically inviting him to fuck you.

The credits rolled sooner than he would have wanted.

You stretched your arms over your head and let out a soft groan. “Thank you, Jun.”

“For what?” He got up from his bed to take the DVD out from the player.

“For watching this with me. I’m so lucky to have a friend like you!” A friend, huh? He thought of you more than a friend but you were probably playing hard to get. The two of you were the same, you just had to be embarrassed to admit your feelings for him. Yeah, that had to be it.

“I liked the movie.” Liar. He didn’t watch it.

Silence.

“I should get going,” you sighed, retrieving your bag and jacket from the floor.

By the time you stood up, Junpei was holding the DVD case towards you. “I hope you had fun.”

“I did.” You smiled, taking it from him. “Thank you again.”

Junpei was languidly nodding, lost in his own thoughts.

As soon as you left his room and apartment, Junpei hurried back to his room. Getting on his knees, he pressed his face into the exact spot you sat on for two full hours. He took a deep inhale, filling his lungs to their limit.

So this was your scent.

Unbuckling his belt, he kept inhaling the smell of your pussy absorbed on his sheets. He was already impossibly hard, if it weren’t for the way he was slouching when you were beside him, you would definitely notice.

His hand wrapped around his cock and he stroked it from the base to the tip, using your smell and his own fantasies about you as his material for today.

Oh, how he wished he could smell you directly.

~~~

The next day, he couldn’t look you in the eye during the club meeting to talk about the movie everyone watched yesterday.

While you were debating with the two other members about how although the cinematography and the dialogue were great you didn’t enjoy the excessive amount of cursing.

“You just don’t understand cinema,” one of them grumbled.

“Couldn’t agree more, I mean… Do you even watch anything other than your weird romance movies?” The other one grinned.

“Let’s not take it too far,” Junpei mumbled, his words went unheard.

“I didn’t say anything bad about the movie,” you argued. “It was well written but the dialogue was too vulgar for my taste.”

“And since when do you have taste?”

Laughter.

“Yeah, she’s such a scatterbrained normie.”

“Guys.” Junpei stood up on his seat to stop the hassle.

“At least I’m not a pathetic loser.” It slipped. As if you had been wanting to say it out loud for so long. “You know that this is why nobody likes any of you, right?”

It became silent.

Junpei sat back on his chair and the other two who had been grinning from ear to ear as they were teasing you frowned.

You clapped a hand over your mouth, realizing what you had said but the deed was done.

“Sorry.” Mumbling, you gathered your stuff and left the clubroom.

~~~

Getting bullied wasn’t the worst part. It was the way other people treated him because he was getting bullied.

People looked at him with pity, sometimes talked to him because they wanted to include him. They were all doing these things to feel better about themselves. It was never about him.

He could let the cigarette burns, all the times he got beaten and the countless lies others spread about him slip but not the fake kindness.

He hated the fakes.

~~~

It was two days after the incident when you finally decided to approach Junpei before he exited the school garden.

“Hey, Jun.”

A shiver rose up his spine and he stopped walking momentarily. “(name), good to see you.” He turned around to face you but you were looking down onto the pavement. You didn’t want to look him in the face.

“Yeah...” You took a deep breath to calm your senses before speaking. “I just wanted to apologize for the other day. I didn’t mean any of the things I said.”

He said nothing.

“I’m really sorry about it, I was being bitter because of the way they talked to me but I shouldn’t have reacted that way.”

He proceeded to stay quiet, though you had a lot to say to him, it was impossible to find the courage or the words to speak when he was being like this. However, you came prepared for anything.

Reaching inside your bag, you pulled out a DVD case with a movie title Junpei had been looking forward to watching. You had heard him talk about it nonstop for months until it got released recently. He couldn’t get his hands on the DVD itself because of how the movie was always rented out but now, you were holding it.

“Wanna watch it together? My treat.”

How could he possibly say no?

“Okay.”

Your nerves eased when he put on a smile.

Thankfully, the walk to his place was short. In his room, you took off your jacket and grabbed the DVD case to put it on yourself. “I tipped the cashier a couple of extra bucks to get my hands on this,” you giggled and turned on his television with the remote control, the player lit up instantly.

“You didn’t have to.”

“Well, it’s just my way of apologizing, don’t sweat it!” Pressing the button for the disc slot, you opened the case to grab the CD. “Besides, I wanted to watch this for a long time too.”

He could tell you were lying but he wasn’t sure if you were trying to be nice to him out of pity or not. Gradually, he realized he couldn’t put you in a box. You two were alike. Exactly like him, you didn’t know where you fit in but he started to get an idea about where might fit in just fine.

As you were standing with the remote control in your hands and waiting for the movie title to show up on the screen, a set of hands were placed on your hips, making you flinch.

“Jun?”

Junpei couldn’t help but press himself against you, his hands on your hips moved to your stomach, and grabbed the remote control out of your grasp. He threw the device to the side.

“Jun?” you tried calling him again, not realizing he needed a hug this badly. “Are-are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, you felt him bury his face into your hair and heard him take a sniff. His hands moved in different ways. One slid up to cup your breast over your shirt and the other slid down your stomach.

“Um, if you wanna hug me, I can face you. This position is… weird....” You merely comprehended that he wasn’t hugging you when his hand soothed the fabric of your skirt and went under it to grab you by your pussy.

Your thighs pressed together at the same time a surprised gasp left your lips. His hand was pushing you towards him as he was pressing against you, urging you to feel everything.

“Wait,” you tried to say, but when his hips snapped forward it broke into another gasp. A finger pressed on your slit over the fabric of your panties, he dragged it up while his hand harshly groped your breast.

“W-what are you doing?”

“What do you think?” Junpei nosed some hair out of his way and placed his lips on your nape, grazing his lips on the sensitive skin before moving to kiss your neck. “I thought you were here to spend time with me.” His teeth nibbled on the thin flesh and your legs turned to jelly.

“B-but the movie.”

Hooking a finger under the elastic on the edge of your panties, he pulled them to the side and let his middle finger slip inside.

“We can watch it later.”

“Jun, wait.” You squirmed and tried to move away from his fingers but you were trapped. If you moved backward you were going to press harder against his erection and moving forward meant his finger going deeper inside you. The latter was the worst option, so you moved your hips away from his hand.

What you hadn’t calculated was the way you were rocking back on forth with Junpei as he was grinding his clothed cock against the soft flesh of your ass. When you pressed yourself against him harder, it didn’t leave any more space for you to move away from his fingers.

Thanks to your dumb decision, Junpei had you right where he wanted.

“You’re so cute, always trying to act smarter than you actually are,” he whispered, lips brushing against your neck. “When you left that day after we watched your stupid movie, I jerked off to you.”

His hand on your breast moved between your bodies and placed on the front of his pants. He tugged them down while drawing small circles on your neck with his tongue and two of his fingers thrust inside your slick heat.

“I shoved my nose into the exact spot you sat to inhale your scent.”

The revelation of what he did after you left made you tremble. His hot and wet tongue pressed flat against the side of your neck and his fingers moving in a scissoring motion distracted you from his free hand guiding his cock between your legs.

“From the moment we met, I knew we were made for each other, (name).”

Nevertheless the awkward positioning, he slipped his fingers out of you and moved to grab your leg from the back of your knee. He lifted your leg until his cock had enough space to move and his hips surged forward.

A panicked sound left your lips when his cock moved between your folds rather than going inside like he had planned.

Before you could struggle, he pulled his hips back and thrust forward, angling his hips in the right direction. This time, it was a success.

Both of you moaned in unison.

Junpei buried his face into your neck and groaned loudly to the sensation of your warm cunt. Your gummy walls were sucking him right in. He couldn’t help slamming his hips into your pussy with a little too much force. You shook in his arms, nearly losing your balance “J-Jun,” you breathed, tone faint. “T-the movie.”

“Is that what you really want right now?” he whispered into your ear, thrusting in your cunt agitatedly.

You wanted to say something and shove him away so the two of you could focus on the movie that was playing on the screen instead but his cock stroked a sweet spot inside made you melt in his hold. You moaned instead, giving him the answer he wanted to hear.

He picked up a pace to fuck into you in a smooth motion and roughly pound into your pussy to steal cute little moans out of you. He was too lost in pleasure to be able to think. All he wanted was to feel your pussy clench around his cock.

His kisses on your neck turned into biting and you felt him lift your leg higher, launching both of you forward when you lost your balance. You managed to hold onto the TV stand while Junpei didn’t let the small accident interrupt him.

Letting go of your leg, he placed his hand on your back and pushed until you arched your back.

Now, he could thrust deeper inside you. Almost frantically, he started hammering his cock into your pussy. The impact caused you to place both hands on the furniture in front of you and hold onto it for dear life. Your clenching walls around him felt heavenly, he couldn’t stop moving his hips.

A shaky moan escaped your lips when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. Your hands gripped the furniture and your toes curled at the sensation. At some point, your attention suddenly averted to Junpei’s wandering hands pulling your back flush against his chest as every thrust of his hips left you shaking and begging for more.

“J-Jun,” you whined.

He knew exactly what it meant. If he couldn’t tell from the neediness in your voice, he could tell it from the way your gummy walls started pulsating around his cock. Instead of picking up his pace and fucking you like an animal in heat like you thought he would do, Junpei tried to thrust deeper, stroking your sensitive spot with his cock until your vision turned white and you started rocking yourself back on Junpei’s cock. Only then his thrusts became harder, almost as if he wanted to claim you as his only.

“Can I do it inside?” Junpei didn’t need an answer but you gave him one anyway.

“Y-yeah.”

His pace suddenly slackened, he was close to his own orgasm. He pushed his cock in your pussy down to the base and you felt the slight twitch of his balls on your ass as thick spurts of seed filled your womb.

He lowly grunted, continuing to move his hips and fucking his seed into you with disgustingly wet sounds. Your legs started to shake under you, his hands on your hips were the only things keeping you standing up but once he let go of you, the support disappeared. You dropped on the floor, his cum oozed out of you and stained the carpet.

None of you said anything. Not when you were catching your breaths or when you were fixing your clothes.

It took you a full minute before you asked something so utterly idiotic. “Should I go home?”

At that exact moment, he understood why people enjoyed bullying others who were weaker than them.

“I thought you came here to watch the movie with me.” He dared to say.

You stared at him blankly, your gaze slowly turned to the movie that had been playing the whole time and a faint smile tugged at your lips as you reached for the remote control on the other side of the carpet to restart the movie.

~~~

In the next club meeting, Junpei brought the movie you had wanted to watch last week.

Although the other two groaned in unison, they sat through the entire movie once Junpei told them they owed you this.

As for you, watching the movie you had already seen a week ago was boring but the anticipation to watch another new release you had rented with Junpei after school was enough to keep you on the edge.

#wrote this for a reader after they said junpei was their fave and gifted it to them lol #idk if they follow me on tumblr but if they do... i love you <3 #reader is a leetle dumb #junpei x reader #junpei yoshino x reader

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popopretty · 4 years ago

Text

Storm Bringer Spoilers (6)

One of my favorite scenes where Port Mafia went all out on Verlaine in CODE;4. I like this part because it introduced a lot of Port Mafia’s skill users that have never appeared in both the manga and the other novels. It was so fun to read.

Dazai made some interesting statements and theories here too. I like the dialogue at the end, where he kinda slipped and let out some of his real emotions.

PS: I can’t believe I actually typed out 5000 words! I was drafting this on my phone so I didn’t notice the actual amount of words. I know it’s not gonna be perfect and I am gonna make mistakes and I will want to punch myself so much but gosh, I am so proud of myself now!

...

The train driver put one hand on the handle, his eyes staring at the darkness in front of him.

Twenty-seven years of service. He is a veteran. He has held this handle through rains and winds, through the Great War where the bombs poured down like rain, messing up the landform.

Even for him, today’s job is unusual.

The train company he works for was bought out overnight. Together with the trains and the service schedules. Then he was ordered to operate a temporary ride. Yet there is only one passenger on this train. Even when he protested to his boss, what he got was only “stop questioning and just drive.” And then one more thing, “If you run away, it will be even worse.”

The driver took another look at the scenery in front of him. The trees have sunk into the darkness. All he could see were the silver railroad tracks and the yellow headlight. Those are the only guidelines to tell where the train is heading.

What his boss said might actually be true. Putting other cities aside, this is the unorthodox Yokohama. Anything can happen. Even if there is only one passenger, he has no intention to talk to them. If he does so, he might end up having to catch his cut off head with his chest. _

At that moment, from the eternal darkness of the night that looks no different from the bottom of the ocean, he felt something moving.

His well-trained eyes managed to capture it from the distance. Is that an animal? No. Is it just the trees rustling? No.

That’s a person.

A person is standing on the track.

He pulled the break even before his brain went ”Oh no”.

The compressed air was released, and the train’s speed reducer made a violent metallic noise. But it was too late. The train bumped straight into that human figure.

However, that figure took the train’s hit. A tremendous force was applied on the train. The first car jumped forward. It was like they were being pulled, the rear cars also jumped off, derailed, rolling over into the woods. Like a rampaging huge iron snake, the train hollowed out a big area around it, knocked down a bunch of trees, before finally stopping.

The person who witnessed the whole event, Verlaine, smiled with satisfaction. He took the train head-on but suffered no scratches. He started walking. Towards the car with Mori Ougai. Jumping over the cars half-buried underground, getting through the cars whose electric system were starting to catch fire, he reached his target.

Mori Ougai was lying face-down. The train was fully flipped sideway, the walls become the floors and the ceilings became the walls. He was facing away from Verlaine, not moving an inch. From beneath his body, a pool of blood is slowly spreading.

He did investigate the target’s skill in advanced. It’s not the kind of secret that a formal spy like him cannot find out. Mori Ougai does not possess a skill that can withstand such an impact.

“Too easy.”

Verlaine muttered and approached his target. He is not as stupid to walk away without confirming if his target is really dead or not. He is going to check and if by some rare chances the target is still alive, he will finish them off for real.

Verlaine flipped Mori Ougai’s body over. Then his eyes opened wide.

That was not Mori Ougai.

That was a man he had never seen. He was wearing a wig and clothes to disguise as Mori Ougai. But Verlaine’s assassination preparation was thorough. He had set up a hidden surveillance device in the last station. And the images taken from there were definitely Mori Ougai’s.

When he grabbed the man trying to confirm his identity, suddenly a hand was put on his chest.

“Too easy.”

A powerful repulsive force coming from a skill blew Verlaine away. He flew through the glass windows and landed on the humus soil outside. He rolled further while scattering the soil, and hit his back against a tree before finally stopping.

”... Not bad.”

Verlaine push his hand on the tree to stand up.

He brushed off the dirt from his clothes and started thinking. The face he saw at that moment moment, the repulsive force coming from his palm. That was probably one of Port Mafia’s constituent members, the one who with the repulsion skill, Hirotsu Ryurou.

A double!

They knew about the hidden device and let Mori Ougai’s image captured on purpose, then quickly switched the double in. In other words, Verlaine’s assassination plan was seen through. Ever since he came to this country, he only knew one person who has the ability to outsmart him with such finesse.

“Hello, Verlaine-san.” A small was sitting on the edge of a car, on top of the overturned train.

“Dazai-kun”, Verlaine said as he picked up the hat that had fallen to his feet. “I have heard the saying that age doesn’t matter when it comes to talent, but you are really frightening.”

“You are just bad.” Dazai said with a dry voice as though he was lecturing Verlaine. “This time you acted on your personal feelings too much. When you are like that, I can read all your moves. Why are you so obsessed with Chuuya?”

“Is it that strange for someone to be concerned about his brother?”, Verlaine said as he dusted the mud off his clothes.

“It is, a lot.” Dazai affirmed. “First of all, what made you believe so firmly that Chuuya was your brother?”

“What?” Verlaine narrowed his eyes.

“You saw that too, right? Chuuya’s original experimental body. Turned into bones and died.” Dazai spoke while swinging his legs that were dangling out of the train top. “That looks almost the same as Chuuya in terms of appearance. In terms of abilities, too. And a lot of other things in common. What if that thing was actually a skill-containing artificial life form, and the Chuuya who is living outside, whose only redeeming trait is being energetic, was the original one? Can someone like you who is not an expert, someone who has only browsed through limited materials from the past, see through that?”

“That is impossible.” Verlaine shook his head. “I’m not as stupid as to mistake the target in my infiltration mission. What I stole away from the lab nine years ago was undoubtedly the same as me, an artificial life-form.”

“If I look it up I will understand right away.” Dazai said casually. “Fortunately this time, the guys from the labs has demonstrated the method to rewrite the code formula inside Chuuya. If I capture some of those researchers using Mafia’s power, they will be more than happy to tell me how to read those codes. And then I will know which one Chuuya is actually. We have all the time in the world.”

“You seem pretty confident that Chuuya is human, don’t you?”

“I am”, Dazai laughed with a sigh. “There is no way a man-made string of code could create such a personality that I detest that much.”

Verlaine signed then started walking towards Dazai. His footsteps were heavy, as if he had to clean up a lot of tedious work.

“I can gently whole-heartedly explain to you the reason that was a misunderstanding... but now I have another job for you.“ he said, walking up the gentle slope that he fell from. “That is to spit out where Mori himself, not his double, is. It’s a painstaking job. Literally”

“So you have no intention to back off?”

“Of course not.”

Dazai didn’t look at anything, he gazed aimlessly into the air, “Is that so?”. Then he spoke with a disappointed face, “Then it is your loss.” A sniper bullet went straight for Verlaine’s head. Verlaine bent his upper body, and felt down the slope of humus. He rolled three times then looked up, looking at Dazai with stern eyes.

“Sniper?”

Before he could finish his sentence, yet another bullet struck Verlaine’s forehead. He almost fell to his side, pushing his hands against the ground to support.

“Your ability only works on things that you can touch.” Dazai said, swinging his legs as he looked down on his opponent. “That’s why the bullets that hit you will hit you. They just stop immediately. However, if we aim a larger sniper bullet, which has several times the velocity of a normal bullet, then it will still give you a blow the moment you use your gravity to stop it. Also...”

Dazai casually raised his hand.

From the top of the hill, through the gaps of the trees, from inside the humus, on top of big trees, more than fifty sniper bullets were fired at Verlaine at the same time. All the bullets pierced him, Verlaine growled.

Verlaine tried to hide under the shades of the trees while protecting himself by gravity. But even in the places he ran to, he got attacked from behind. Even if he tried to lower his posture to hide, the attack would come from above the trees. He had nowhere to run.

“To be able to set up this many snipers... in such a short time...”

A bullet pierced through Verlaine’s clothes and slid through his skin. It’s not a wound that could make him bleed, but there are so many of them. Ten shots in one second, then twenty, and more kept coming. It’s like the air that surrounds his whole body has become his enemies and attacked him.

Verlaine had no choice but to protect his head with his two arms and rolled himself up.

“You picked the wrong opponent, Verlaine-san.” Dazai chuckled. “I am an expert when it comes to dealing with gravity. Because no matter if I wake or sleep, the only thing I think about is how to annoy Chuuya.”

“Don’t underestimate me!”

While enduring the rain of bullets that were striking him, Verlaine grabbed a tree close by and pulled it out of the ground.

“You think you can kill me with this kind of rock throwing play? Verlaine swung the tree, trying to throw it. He planned to use the tree as a spear to crush the snipers who were hiding faraway in the dark.

However, that hand of his stopped halfway.

It was because the tree had been cut into pieces.

“Hoho, if I look closely, you look terribly like my subordinate.”

There was a flowing female voice as graceful as the sound of harp.

The burning bright red hair, eyes of the same color. Her crimson red

ombré looked like the color of ripen maple leaves. The most eye-catching thing was what floated beside her, a masked demon in a kimono. The demon was tall with long hair. She carried a sword of almost the same height as a child, as if it had no weights at all. The golden kimono melt into the air from her knees downwards, showing that it was not a real body.

“However, it was Mr. Brother who selfishly tried to poach our boy from us. I guess I can let that go after cutting off one of your limbs or two. So you’d better get lost quickly.”

Ozaki Kouyou. The Port Mafia’s young sword-woman. A powerful skill user who took Chuuya as her subordinate, accompanied by the golden demon, an embodiment of her skill, a beautiful beast.

Kouyou rolled a bright peony-colored umbrella on her shoulder. And then she twisted its handle and pulled it out. A silver blade appeared. A hidden sword.

“Mafia’s skill user?” Verlaine smiled like a beast. “But what can a mere ability user with two swords can do against gravity?”

Verlaine lowered his posture, ready to jump at Kouyou.

“Who said that I was alone?”

Verlaine’s body sank in.

Startled, Verlaine looked at his feet. The ground undulated like a snake, swallowing his two legs and even crawling up.

Verlaine was caught by surprise. He got rid of the gravity of his own body and jumped up. He landed on a trunk of a tree nearby. But even the trunk that definitely looked tough started to liquify the moment his shoes touched. It reached for Verlaine, trying to eat him up.

“This is...” Verlaine leaped again. However, the spot he planned to land on already turned into a mud with a will of its own, opening its mouth to wait for him.

“Hahaha. Keep running, young man. Youngsters like you exist to entertain this old man. Please die quickly and offer your head to me.”

Coming from the darkness of the woods was a big, strong man who looked just like a big tree. A military uniform that has faded in places. His bristle looked like a sewing needle. He wore a judo belt around his waist, and wooden clogs on his feet The arms folding in front of his chest were as thick as a tree that has lived for hundred years.

Port Mafia’s elite, a veteran who survived the Great War. His nickname in the organization is “Colonel.”

He swung his arms like an ancient tree and squeezed his fist tightly in front of his eyes. At the same time, the ground started to muffle. The liquified soil, trees, even the overturned train, all rushed to attack Verlaine in the air. An skill user who can manipulate objects and turn them into liquids?

Verlaine kicked the first wave of liquified soil that came towards him and retreated backward. But the soil was also coming from that direction. Even if he tried to change his orbit to run, liquified soil was still coming from beneath his feet and above his head. If they touched him they would still be blown away by the gravity, but the liquid will start to cover up from the top again, giving no time for Verlaine to prepare a counter attack.

On top of that, as if to stitch up the gaps, there were sniper shots coming from all directions.

“Tch...”

Verlaine densified a small amount of dust in the air, and stepped on that to leap his body up. He wanted to take some distance. Abilities that manipulate things like Colonel’s, in most of the cases won’t work for things that are out of their sights. That’s why he planned to hide deep in the wood then throw a huge rock enforced by gravity to finish them off.

An odd thing entered Verlaine’s field of vision at that moment.

A watch.

A watch was floating in the air.

From the outside, it looked just like a normal pocket watch. A dial with numbers, a long hand and a short hand, a crown, and the internal mechanism peeking out from the edge of the dial.

The strange thing about it was that it had a size of a man’s upper body. Also, it kept turning around as if it was staring at Verlaine.

Verlaine, who possesses a wide range of knowledge on skill users, sensed the danger from that watch almost immediately.

He tore off one button from the sleeve of his suit and amplified its gravity until it weighted dozens of kilograms. Then he threw it towards the watch.

That button comet holding enough power to knock down a building, however, couldn't interfere with the watch. It smoothly slipped through the watch, knocked off trees and disappeared into darkness.

“You can’t destroy that thing.”

A gloomy voice came from the ground.

Verlaine diverted his gaze and without his notice, a boy was already sitting on the ground. He was hugging his knees with his two arms, looking miserable. He looked up at Verlaine.

“It’s no use. That thing looks at everyone. Including me, and you. We have no choices but to die. One day it will find us. One day it will catch up with us. It’s　“time”. It’s the enemy of us all.”

He looked and sounded miserably. His clothes were so long it became awkward. The hems were all frayed. The boy who was so skinny you could see his bones through his clothes glared at Verlaine and waved his finger as if he was telling him “Come here, come here.”

The two hands of the watch clicked and pointed to the number 12 at the same time. Immediately afterwards, the watch in the air was sucked into Verlaine.

That was not a metaphor, it was literally sucked into him, into his chest.

Being wary of the disappeared watch, Verlaine stiffened his body. But nothing happened. There is nothing within his sig...

The liquified soil twisted around his legs.

Startled, Verlaine shook the liquid off by gravity. Then he looked around. He had got pretty far away for sure. It was so strange that the liquified soil could chase him this close. Right after that was a shock. A sniper bullet hit his head. Verlaine span halfway in the air. He landed on the ground, scraping the humus to stop.

It was weird. The speed of the sniper attack went up. The speed of the bullet by the moment it reached him was so fast that even if he used gravity to bounce it back, he was also blown away by a corresponding force.

“Did they replace their guns or bullets with more powerful ones? No, this is...”

The ground liquified again. Verlaine jumped out to dodge, before being eaten by the soil. But the speed of the liquid tentacles that extended and followed him also increased. Verlaine took a quick look around. From the treetops that were hit by the sniper attack just now, leaves were falling down. They were not fluttering, they were dropping as if they were stabbing the ground. This means, the attack speed didn’t get faster...

“Was my time... slowed down?”

“Everyone will die before me.” the gloomy boy stared at Verlaine with dubious eyes filled with hatred. “Brothers, parents, everyone will be killed by time. But I will get away with it. With this special power of mine”

A skill user who meddles with time. For the first time, Verlaine got a cold sweat on his forehead.

Time manipulation is not just a powerful skill, it is a extraordinary skill out of this world. As far as Verlaine knew, there were only a few cases reported in the world. The fist on the list of those time manipulation skill users who are separated from the world’s reasons, was a former skilled mechanic, H.G. Wells. After creating the skilled weapons called the “Shell”, she disappeared and became the world’s worst terrorist.

The time manipulation type of skills tinker the basic principles of this world, and rewrite them at will. Because if you look from the universe’s perspective, time and space are equivalent. The time manipulation skill users hold the same power that can alter the world, just like Verlaine’s gravity. Verlaine whose movements have become dulled because of the time delay　was flooded with Mafia’s attacks. All the bullets, the swords and liquified soil.

Even if he tried to retreat, because his time has been delayed, he could only move sluggishly as if he was under water.

Verlaine’s expressions became stiff.

Dazai gracefully looked at the wooded area echoing with gun shots and roaring sounds. He looked down at the battlefield that had turned into a hell, with such a carefree expression that cooled down in the night breeze._

“This is the rule of this world.” Dazai spoke like he was singing. “It applied in all times and ages, all creatures, the absolute truth. In this world, a group is stronger than an individual. A skill user is stronger than a group. And then...”

Feeling the pleasant cold breeze coming from the blasts of the battle on his cheeks, Dazai smiled.

“... a group of skill users are stronger than one skill user.”

Verlaine pushed his body’s gravity to the max. With a powerful driving force that surpassed the effect of the time manipulation skill, he quickly escaped from the battlefield. Verlaine’s bones cracked at the sudden speed acceleration that exceeded his limit.

Even when the danger struck in front of him, Verlaine’s judgement did not falter. It was not yet a hopeless situation. He would retreat as much as he could, taking as much distance he could from the waves of skill attacks. Then he would fix his posture, manipulate the gravity of the bullets that managed to reach him, repel them and knock down the skill users, one by one. That would be his win then.

Only three skill users. Not too much of a difference in strength.

Suddenly, blood came out from his skin.

Verlaine looked at his cuffs. The skin under his clothes was peeled off, exposing the flesh inside. But only a little blood came out. He felt almost no pains.

He landed down on the ground as a reflex. Upon touching the ground, the skin inside his shoes also came off. He could tell by the slippery feel from it. But again, there was no pain.

That was a new skill attack. But the true nature of it immediately became clear.

His breath was white.

His skin is frozen, there was frost on his eyelashes.

“Let us be held. By the frozen love. Let us be held. By the frozen flower that breaks in its full bloom.” the new skill user appeared, singing with a thin and screechy voice.

Long, white hair, white fur around her shoulders, white breath. And a crimson red rose on her chest. Every time the woman takes one breath, the trees around her froze, cracked up and snapped due to the water inside it freezing and expanding.

Verlaine understood it right away.

A skill user who can cool off the temperate. The reason why his skin was peeled off earlier was because the skin was exposed to the low temperature and got stuck to the inside of his clothes and shoes. His body really became that cold in just an instant. He was frozen from flesh to born, but not much time has even passed.

A super dangerous skill user. Freezing attack does not involve physical clashes. That’s why he can’t dodge them using gravity. It is his natural enemy

Another sniper bullet hit Verlaine’s shoulder. He groaned in pain.

The bullet was cold. It froze by the time it touched his skin, forming a frost pillar. The low temperature invaded into him through the wound, eating up his flesh.

The enemies attacks were too synchronized. Time delay, freezing, sniping. Apparently, it was a tactic that had been put together to block all of Verlaine’s strengths and exploit his weaknesses. There is still something strange about this. He has been retreating at a considerable speed since a while ago, yet the gunshots never stopped. His escape route was totally seen through. Normally if he ran at this speed in the woods in the middle of the night, he would immediately disappear from the telescopic sight. Losing the targets, sniping attack would definitely become impossible. So why?

“Hihihihi, what a sweet face. Hey, just between us, but if you cry and slobber and apologize here, maybe I will let you go this time?”

The voice was close. Really close.

Verlaine turned to that direction. No one was there... No.

In the middle of no where, a hole the size of a coin was opened. It was like the space was burnt and hollowed out, and on the other side of the hole was another different space. From that side, a black eye was staring at this side through the hole.

“Yes, it’s me. You are being watched. From now on, you can be assured even if you lock your toilet door hihihihi”

The hole was so small to see the entire thing. But that eye alone is enough. The eye was filled with malice. It had been watching Verlaine, chasing him and reporting about his positions all the time.

Verlaine fired a rotary kick by reflex at the hole.

“Oops.”

Right before being hit, the hole closed up and disappeared.

“I’m here.”

The voice came from behind. When he turned around, the same hole had been opened in a different place, looking straight at Verlaine.

That was the type of skill that connects space and monitor the targets. The skill user was probably sitting in another safe place, and monitoring the whole battle using their space connection skill. He couldn’t attack the actual skill user. If he tried to touch it, it would close immediately so he wouldn’t be able to destroy it using gravity.

Just how many skill users they have thrown in this battle?

“Hihihi, I have a present for you. From Port Mafia with love.”

From the coin-sized hole, flower petals flew out. Countless petals surrounded Verlaine then started to shine white. Yet another new skill.

The moment Verlaine tried to take a quick avoidance action, all the flower petals exploded at once.

From the train where he sat, Dazai could see the light from that explosion very clearly. The white light split open the woods at night, the afterglow burnt into the night sky.

Dazai looked at that scene, he was grinning.

“How is it going, Dazai-dono?”

From inside the train, a middle-aged man appear. He was wearing the boss’ outfit. He was the one who played the boss’ double, Hirotsu.

“As you can see, it is going well. So well that it is boring.”

In the direction he was pointing, the explosion sound was echoing, trees were falling, sniper flashes and low frequency noises were ringing non-stop.

Hirotsu took off the wig, put on the monocle he always has on, and narrowed his eyes.

“As one would expect.”

“Of course, I had to earn a lot of time to prepare all this. “ said Dazai, who was crossing his legs elegantly like a royal. “Chuuya and I had a terrible hard time fighting Randou-san. So this time I came prepared. Just to kill Mr. Assasin King from Europe, I had to gather a total of 422 people from the combat troops and 28 skill users. That is the full strength that Mafia can put in now.” At the scene where they were looking, the cold air and gun flashes kept shining. Verlaine tried to escape by threading his way in between the trees but a yellow-white ray burnt off the whole night sky, blocking that escape route. That was yet another skill user.

The plan was extremely simple. Setting up a trap and waiting. Chuuya and Adam drafted the same tactic before to defeat the Assasin King. The plan that Dazai carried out was basically the same. Identify the next target, set up traps around that target, and ambush Verlaine from behind when he appears.

The only difference between this and Chuuya’s plan is the scale of those traps. What have been set up as traps this time, was the entire Mafia’s overwhelming combat unit. The result was a one-sided destruction.

“We can keep this battle going for the whole night.” Dazai said as if he was whispering to Verlaine from far away. “Verlaine-san, you are a flawless assassin. With that vivid skill of yours, you have never once been traced down and surrounded like that, haven’t you? That’s why you have no experiences when being cornered by such a skill users organization. Even Randou-san was afraid of that dangerous flawlessness of yours.”

Dazai took out the leather notebook.

Rimbaud’s memoir. The journal Rimbaud had kept about the birth as well as full accounts of skill user Verlaine.

“I mourn for you, Verlaine-san.” Dazai put his hand on the notebook and said as if he was praying. “I mourn not for your death, but for your birth. No one mourns for you for being born. The only one who does is you yourself. That is the reason you fights... I think you are amazing. You despise the fact that you were born, you despise your own power, you despise the world. And by doing that, you came to accept your meaningless life. How wonderful that is. I don’t have that kind of courage. That’s why I wanted to talk with you more. But this is already goodbye.”

Dazai stood up, turning his back on the battlefield in front of him. He walked away.

“Dazai-dono?”

“Report to me when it is done.”

Dazai’s voice powerlessly fell to his feet. He walked away.

The next moment. A black way swelled over the battlefield.

...

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