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thunderheadfred · 3 years ago

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🤚The Second Worst (Pt. 1/?)🤚

Part 2 of my Shigaraki Thesis Headcanons. HC's // The Second Worst: 1 - 2

The half-mad ghost of Shimura Tenko is in love with you, and your life is about to become a tragic wreck. -- AKA here's when I gave up on bullet points and went off the fuckin rails

I'm self-conscious about writing so much, so uhhhh, please be kind, hahaaa. This is rather long and involved. Are these still even HCs or just a self-indulgent AU outline? There are some mysteries we may never solve.

This is on AO3 now, if you prefer reading there. Anyway. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

You met Tenko before the League existed.

Believe it or not, there are a million ways it might have happened, but in the end: you were both bargain-binning in Akihabara.

You reached for a copy of a collectible bullet-hell cute-'em-up (near-mint! CIB!!!) and accidentally bonked hands with a complete stranger. He flinched about five million feet away from you. Ouch. You're just a nobody, quirkless and average, but you didn't think you were THAT repulsive.

(You're not. Hell, even if you were, this guy couldn't care less. He barely registers that you have a face.)

(Shigaraki is accustomed to getting in and out of this shop in seconds. He always comes in before anyone else and goes straight home. -- Is that really home? Is 'home' a real place? -- ANYWAY he's already pirated this shit, god, why does he even care? He doesn't need to be here. Father doesn't like it. Is that why he's here? Just to do something Father doesn't like? That's pathetic.)

He's had at least ten complete internal arguments with himself before he so much as looks at you.

You know in the tenth of a second he actually meets your eyes... this fucker is going to fight you to the death over this game.

- - - The death match ends in a draw. He was not expecting you to know the first fucking thing about this game. Nobody knows about it, even in Japan. Who the fuck do you even think you are? Oh, no, he's still taking it. But... maybe he can show you how to play it it. He'll give you a little taste, just to make you jealous. He's got his hoodie pulled down like he's going to commit an act of terrorism. What little you can see of his face looks twitchy and messed up. If you have any survival instincts at all, they're kicking in right about now. But... why not. You're not going anywhere with this dude unsupervised, so you suggest a crowded web cafe down the street. The cafe has the necessary console... but the retro gaming booth is laughably small. The TV is about four inches across and you end up having to practically sit in his lap. You were sure this guy was a nasty fucking creep, but he's................ only mostly terrible. Way too angry, for sure. Has no idea how to have a normal, friendly conversation. Inadvertently insults you every other sentence and seems to have a deep-seated persecution complex.

You'd prefer to be mad about the awful company, but... he's obviously deprived of human contact. When it's established that you two share a lot of media fixations, he calms down and starts treating you a little more like a human being. Or at least like a fellow elite.

Wherever he came from, he doesn't seem to want to go back. He keeps pushing you to play one more level, pretending he wants to beat your score. You feel kinda bad for him. You get the distinct feeling that his life is a disaster. He looks like he's never had a full night of sleep in his life. He trips your trigger hairs in that 'is he gonna follow me home?' kind of way, but... up close, he's a lot more depressing than scary. At the very least, you want to buy him a stupidly cute dessert. Just... as thanks. For letting you try out the game and stuff. It's not a big deal, so just pick a flavor, okay? The world isn't actually that awful, y'know.

It's not even that impressive... Definitely not a great cafe. But he takes practically a full hour to eat a single slice of strawberry cake.

When the hoodie comes down. He's all shriveled and dried out, like someone left him him in the desert to die. He chews on his peeling bottom lip and nervously scratches his neck. He doesn't thank you for the cake. Which is fine. It's not a big deal. Actually, you wish he would eat faster; you feel weirdly responsible for him now.

Under all that mess he's... gorgeous? His hair is stunning: a bright, gleaming silver that catches the light. His bone structure is flawless. If it weren't for all the scars and the misanthropic slouch, he'd look like a fairy fucking prince.

You were not prepared for that. In another life he could have been a model, the type of guy who would never even look at you. But something bad happened to him. Something... very bad. Do you even want to know? You have no idea how to ask. Has anyone ever been nice to him? It doesn't seem like it. Should YOU be nice to him? You sort of want to try. - - - This becomes a regular thing. This weird little secret. You should probably tell someone when you see him, just in case you don't come back one day, but you say nothing; how the hell would you explain why you want to see him so bad? You don't know his full name. Maybe he's on a watch list. When he gives you a long string of random numbers so you can schedule meet-ups (is THAT his e-mail, really?) he tells you to just... call him Tenko. Or whatever. It doesn't matter. (He sneaks out when Father is deep in his plots. As long as he comes home on time, it doesn't really matter where he goes, right?) He brings a different game every time. He has an insane collection. Where does he get the money for all this? You know he doesn't work. God, is it drugs? It's probably drugs. Wherever these hidden gems came from, he proudly shows them off to you, like he's never had an audience before. It's sort of cringe-inducing, the way he one-ups and rubs every little victory in your face, desperate for attention.

But at the same time, you are becoming too... something...to mind. Do you... like him? He's not funny, but he thinks you are. His mouth is huge when he laughs. He seems to hate everyone but you, and you've had to earn the distinction of being merely tolerable. Still, he gets really excited about random shit like the garage kit black market and haunted dolls and the price of weed on the dark web.

And... strawberry cake. The realization hits you both at the same time when the waitress brings one piece with two forks. God, what the fuck, are you... are you dating? Quick, think. You look forward to seeing him, and don't even mind sitting close to him anymore. Sometimes you push your leg up against him just to see if he'll still flinch away... and he doesn't.

You jealously notice the way he touches everything but you: with delicate precision, one finger at a time. His large, elegant hands always have a pinky up like he's aspiring for a fiefdom, and you wonder what his skin feels like. You go home and dwell on the way he plucks flowering weeds out of the pavement in front of the cafe. The way he stands rooted to the spot as you leave, just... looking at nothing, unsmiling.

You watch his lips too much, and not just because you want to buy him chapstick. You catch him gaping at you all the time. You thought he was just creepy like that, but maybe... Yeah. I guess you are dating him. Shit. - - - Okay, so, yeah. Bringing him back to your place was definitely a bad idea. You know you shouldn't trust him, even if he is... apparently... your boyfriend? Sort of? You still don't have his phone number. So. Um. What now? You order overpriced pizza and queue up a campy horror movie. What the fuck are you even doing. You don't really think he's going to murder you anymore, but... still. Is the suburban massacre scene gonna give him ideas? Turns out, no. He doesn't like gore, even when the blood is neon pink. He gets upset. Like, really upset. Shaky and green, like he might puke on you. He can't stop scratching that scaly spot on his neck.

Tenko, are you crying? Fucking hell, did you just trigger him? Of course he has a traumatic past, it's carved all over his face. You're so fucking stupid. You don't know how to make it right. You want to hug him, kiss him... anything. But he's never really touched you, and you're too afraid to push now. It ruins the whole night. He leaves without explaining anything. Doesn't even say goodbye. He just. Leaves. Maybe you'll never see him again. Maybe that's for the best. Your chest hurts. - - - He shows up at your door a few weeks later. You haven't heard from him since that disastrous movie night. You had pretty much accepted that you'd broken up with a boyfriend you never actually had. But no. Apparently not.

This time, he’s brought his own entertainment. He's holding a boxed set of some show you're not familiar with. You're distracted by these weird little half-gloves he's wearing, like a cyberpunk hacker. That's a new look, and even if it's a bit edgelord adjacent, he makes it look cool. You tell him as much. It's the first time you've let on how attractive you find him. He's wearing a tight black shirt with a deep, deep V-neck. That's distracting too.

He clears his slender throat and doesn't look at you.

You try to apologize for before, but he's acting like it never happened. What are you even talking about? Have you seen this OVA or not? Get out of the way and let him in already. You've watched three episodes now, but you still have no idea what this stupid anime is about. You can't pay attention to a single frame. All you can think about is how his arm has crept up behind your shoulders. A few inches more and he'll be holding you. Does he... want to hold you? You lean toward him so slowly your spine creaks. One molecule at a time. After a thousand years, your head slides nervously under his chin. His arm comes down, locking you in, fingers clutching your sleeve in a death grip. Even that snobby little pinky. His head tucks down into you hair. A sharp collarbone bites into your cheek. His heartbeat is hard, fast, and irregular. There's not a scrap of fat on him, and as you wrap your arm around his stomach, you think you see a twitch in his pants. Is that just you being desperate? Or... hopeful? This is really happening. --- Soon, you learn that Tenko is a clumsy kisser. It doesn't matter; the fact that he's kissing you at all is good enough for now. His lips are dry, but not half as dry as you expected. There's a slick of menthol helping things along; he's been using something medicated on his lips. Plus, his mouth tastes like he drank a gallon of mouthwash.

All this thrills you more than a little, because it means he came here wanting to impress you. Wanting you. Full stop. Underneath that minty sting is a strange, worrisome aftertaste, like something rotten. Your brain fires off an alarm. Stop kissing him. Right now. This thing will make you sick. But his hands nervously slide over your body... and you decide not to worry about it. Instead, you kiss him deeper. He makes a sweet, startled little noise. Your brain is a fucking liar. It occurs to you he's probably never done this before.

When you lace your fingers in his and try to pull one of his gloves off, he rips his hand away.

Don't. That’s the only explanation he gives.

No need to ask if it's a quirk thing or a trauma thing. Judging by how jittery he gets, it's probably both. You remember the way his hands almost float over objects without ever holding them. Maybe his touch is dangerous. Maybe that's why his face looks like that.

Maybe you should learn more about him before things go way too far...

No. It can't be that bad. Now that he's in your arms, everything frightening about him evaporates. He's vulnerable. He's alone. He's shaking a little. Has anyone else ever seen this side of him? You want to keep him all to yourself, just like this.

So what if he has to touch you with gloves on? You've heard of worse quirk-related inconveniences.

It's okay, Tenko. Do you want to keep going?

You put his hands back on you and wait for him to kiss you again. It doesn't take long.

---

You open his pants. He's long and thin, calloused even here. Every part of him feels untouched, unloved. You hold him tight and squeeze.

It doesn't seem to occur to him to please you in return. He looks afraid. Confused. You're sure you scared him earlier with the glove thing. Is this too much? No. He gasps and leans into you. The tiniest, broken please.

He cums in your hand right away, face buried in your shoulder, his eyes wet and hidden.

I have to go, he says. Over and over and over.

It's okay, Tenko.

You know he doesn't want to.

- - - - - (oops I wrote more)

#Shigaraki #Shigaraki Tomura #Shimura Tenko #Shigaraki x reader #Shigaraki x you #Shigaraki x y/n #gender neutral reader #shigaraki headcanons #mha #bnha #fred writes

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hermannsthumb · 4 years ago

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Could you please write #43 grandparents/neighbors one?

43. we’re having our family meal at my grandparents’ house this year so fingers crossed your parents still live next door and you grew up to be even hotter

from winter writing prompts here

oh god this one got so long. sorry everyone! thank you to @k-sci-janitor for the alien bit because it was so fucking funny

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

Holidays have gotten a little weird to manage since Newt transformed into a fully-fledged adult with an apartment and a job and stuff, so while he hasn’t made it to the big Geiszler celebration in Germany every December since starting college out of elementary school, he still tries to make a point of dropping by his dad’s for dinner and a movie or something to fill his holiday quota. It’s fine by him; he loves his family, but they’re definitely overwhelming, and trying to submit final grades and work on syllabuses for the next semester all while distant relatives ruffle his hair and ask him when he’s going to hit his growth spurt is not his idea of a relaxing time. It’s a constant point of contention between him and his dad. This year more than most, apparently.

“Your grandmother misses you!” he tells Newt sadly over their Chinese takeout. “She calls me every week to ask how you are, and why you never visit with them. Every week.” He waves a fork at Newt. “You’re breaking her heart.”

“I’m in the lab, like, twenty-four-seven, dad,” Newt sighs. It’s a well-rehearsed conversation at this point, but it doesn’t get any less tiresome. Especially because he knows his dad is lying about the phone call thing—Newt is a great grandson and texts his grandmother plenty, thank you very much, he would know if he was breaking her heart. “I’m working straight through winter break this year. Seriously.”

“That’s what you did last year,” Newt’s dad says. “And the year before that…” Newt turns the volume up on the TV to cut his dad off before he can segue into the next part of his argument, which is (usually) that Newt needs to work on his personal life, maybe settle down, produce some grandkids of his own. Or at least adopt a cat. Also well-rehearsed.

He’s not sure why he says what he does next—maybe in a desperate attempt to distract his dad further. Maybe because of the sudden onslaught of childhood memories the mention of his grandparents’ house brought on. “Hey, do you remember that boy who used to live next door to grandma?” he says. “He had the weird haircut and always dressed kind of funny?” Old-fashioned, and a little too formal for the sort of things that little kids tend to do, climbing trees or playing in the mud—sweatervests and polished loafers and starched-white knee-highs.

Newt’s dad blinks at him. Newt half expects him to declare that Newt is nuts, and that he has no idea what he’s talking about, like this is one of those horror stories where the childhood friend turns out to be some ghost who died fifty years prior. The clothing would match up, he guesses. But he smiles in recognition a moment later. “You mean the Gottlieb boy?” he says.

“Gottlieb,” Newt echoes. It sounds familiar enough. “Hermann, I think. When I’d stay with grandma for the summer we would play together every day. I wonder what he’s doing now.” Hermann was a smart guy, a real geek like Newt; he used to carry a graphing calculator around in his pocket and build the most goddamn pristine model spacecrafts Newt had ever seen. Hermann’s dad shipped him off to a prestigious boarding school the last summer Newt spent there, when they were around twelve or so. Newt started at MIT not long after. “Dude’s probably designing rocket ships by now or something.”

“You could ask him yourself if you came with me,” Newt’s dad laughs. “The Gottliebs never moved away, and their children actually visit. I’m sure your Hermann visits, too.”

“Ha,” Newt says. “Yeah.”

It’s snowing by the time Newt and his dad finish their movie, and Newt (fearing his dad’s driving even in ideal conditions) declines the offer of a lift home to trudge his way through it to his T stop instead. It’s nice to have the chance to be alone with his thoughts, anyway, because he can’t seem to get funny little Hermann Gottlieb out of his head. What is he doing now?

A quick Facebook search on the train produces a few Hermann Gottliebs, but none of them promising—none of them have the brown eyes or strangely angular face (devoid of any baby fat even that young) Newt remembers, none of them are from the right German countryside, none of them went to a preppy English boarding school. Google (utilizing the information Newt does have) is a little more rewarding, and by the time Newt presses the button to request his stop, he’s scrounged up a decent amount of info: Hermann Gottlieb has a doctorate in astrophysics, Hermann Gottlieb publishes papers at a slightly terrifying rate, and Hermann Gottlieb turned out kinda hot.

As Newt stares down at a slightly grainy current photograph of his old friend—haircut and clothing unchanged, a cane in hand, some round librarian glasses perched on the end of his nose, wide mouth twisted into a scowl—he suddenly recalls another thing about Hermann Gottlieb: the summer Hermann was sent away to boarding school was the summer that Hermann kissed Newt goodbye, shyly and tearfully, under the shade of the tall maple tree in his yard. It was the last time Newt ever saw Hermann. It was Newt’s first kiss.

“Oh, boy,” Newt says.

He texts his dad when he gets back to his apartment. When do we leave?

Newt feels like the belle of the fucking ball when he steps into his grandparents’ house a week later, snow dusting his shoulders, small suitcase clenched in his hand. His cheeks are kissed; his scarf and hat and leather jacket are brushed off and tossed onto a coat rack; his hair is in parts smoothed down (too messy!) and ruffled (too flat!); he’s hugged more times than he has been in the entire last year, probably. “Still playing around with bugs in the dirt, eh, Newt?” his grandfather booms, tucking Newt into the crook of his arm with enough force to knock Newt’s glasses off.

“Actually,” Newt squeaks, scrambling for both what he remembers of his very rusty German, and his glasses before they can hit the ground, “entomology isn’t really my main focus at—”

“Newt’s studying jellyfish now,” Newt’s dad declares proudly. “He went on a diving expedition this July.”

“Diving? How exciting,” Newt’s grandmother says.

“Yeah,” Newt says. He pushes his glasses back on. “Yeah, it was fascinating, I was lucky to get the funding for it. You wouldn’t believe the sorts of—”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Newt’s cousin says.

“My little Newt’s a daredevil!” Newt’s dad says.

“It’s not that dangerous,” Newt says. “As long as you’re—”

“What happened to that nice man your father said you were dating?” Newt’s grandfather says. “With the, the what was it, the poetry? The poet? We thought you’d bring him!”

Newt flushes. Trust his dad to talk up some random guy Newt dated in March like it was a long-term affair and not an elongated one-night stand that fizzled out after three weeks. Though maybe that one’s on Newt—it’s not like he mentioned the one-night stand part to his dad, after all. He definitely didn’t mention that the guy ended it with a poem, too. “We broke up,” he says, weakly. He wriggles out from the throng of the crowd. “Look, it’s so great seeing you all, but I’m actually, like, really tired, soooooo…?”

“Oh, of course you are,” Newt’s grandmother says. She pats his head. “What a long flight you must have had! We’ll send someone up for you for dinner—you can have your old guest room.”

“Cool,” Newt says.

He scurries up the stairs.

The guest room he slept in during those summers is almost exactly the way he remembers it, but a little dustier—the floral quilt on the bed, his grandma’s sewing table crammed into the corner, the bookcase stocked with a weird combination of kid’s books and illustrated encyclopedias that Newt used to pore over for hours as a kid, often with Hermann. Newt draws back the embroidered curtains and peers out the window at the Gottliebs’ snow-capped house next door. Hermann’s window was directly across from his. It still is, technically, though the curtains (these navy blue and embroidered with little constellations) are pulled tight, and Newt has a feeling that Hermann hasn’t set foot in his old room in well over a decade. Two decades, probably.

He remembers the one summer he showed Hermann how to make a soup can telephone, and they managed to string it all the way across between their windows before discovering it kinda didn’t work as well as Newt said it would. He remembers when Hermann’s dad banned him from the Gottlieb house for tracking water all over their front hallway after he and Hermann went wading in the creek, but it was really Hermann who did it, because he forgot to take his shoes off and they got soaked, and Newt just took the fall for it so Hermann wouldn’t get in trouble. And when Hermann asked Newt to play astronaut with him, and Newt insisted on being an alien and mimed the chestburster scene from Alien, and Hermann freaked out so bad he fell in a mud puddle and got grounded for ruining his clothing, and Newt got grounded for that and for watching Alien when he wasn’t supposed to, and they spent the following few days staring sadly out across at each other before Newt’s grandma finally got tired of his moping and sent him to work weeding the garden. He remembers knotting a little friendship bracelet for Hermann out of embroidery thread he found in his grandmother’s sewing basket and Hermann vowing to keep it until he died.

Newt’s half of the soup can phone is still on the windowsill, though the string snapped and crumbled apart years ago. He picks at the peeling Chicken Noodle label, so distracted that he almost doesn’t notice the light suddenly seeping through at the edges of Hermann’s curtains, or the way they’re pushed open—almost.

Hermann—real, live, adult Hermann, botched haircut and round glasses and all—stares out at Newt with a shocked expression on his face. Newt drops the can with a clatter.

Then he waves.

“Hey, Grandma?” Newt says, poking his head into the kitchen. Tonight’s dinner is a massive pot of soup boiling away on the stovetop, dessert a mountain of cookies and tiny pastries on serving platters on the counters. Newt hasn’t had food that looked this good since he moved out, to be honest. The intersection of Newt’s sad lack of cooking skills and his attempts at vegetarianism means he eats a lot of boxed mac-and-cheese and frozen Vegetable Lovers’ pizzas. “Are you—?"

“Oh, Newt!” Newt’s grandmother says. She sets down her wooden spoon. “Are you feeling rested, then?”

“Yeah,” Newt says. “Grandma, I was wondering, could I—uh—maybe run some food over to the Gottliebs? To be…neighborly? We just have so much, and—”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Newt’s grandmother says. “They keep to themselves, mostly, but I can’t imagine they’d turn it down. You might even see your little friend again! What was his name? You were so fond of him.”

“Hermann,” Newt says, quickly shoving cookies into a red-lid plastic container. “Thanks, Grandma.”

He tucks the tupperware under his arm and nearly wipes out on the icy front path he runs to the Gottliebs’ so fast. Before he can so much as catch his breath and knock, their door swings open; Hermann, dressed in a tacky Hannukah sweater, arches an eyebrow at him. “I saw you sprint over here like a bloody madman,” he says, in blessed English. He must’ve remembered how shitty Newt’s German was when they were kids. “Hello, Newton. What’s so terribly important?”

His voice got deeper—expected—and he swapped out his German accent for an English one somewhere along the way. Probably at his stuffy boarding school. He also got taller—he’s got a few inches on Newt now, but Newt admits that’s not exactly hard. God, he’s even hotter in person. “Uh,” Newt says. Why is he here? Oh, right. He thrusts out the tupperware. “I brought some cookies over for you?”

Hermann peers down at the offering over his glasses. His forehead wrinkles. “How considerate,” he says. He pulls an olive-green parka on and steps out onto the porch, tugging the door shut behind him. He taps at a peeling porch swing with the end of his cane. “Just leave them there. Would you like to take a walk?”

It’s freezing, and snowing, but for some reason, a walk sounds like the best idea in the world right now. “Yes, please,” Newt says, and chucks the cookies onto the swing.

“I must say,” Hermann says, after their meandering walk around the Gottliebs’ yard takes them to the old maple tree. The branches are bare, but thick, and shield them from most of the falling snow. Hermann’s breath puffs out white in front of his angular face. The last time I stood here, Newt thinks, he kissed me. “I really did not expect to see you.”

“I didn’t expect to see you, either,” Newt admits. “From what I remember, you and your family weren’t—uh—well, very close. I didn’t think you’d be coming back to share in the holiday cheer with them, is what I mean.”

The corner of Hermann’s mouth twitches up. “That’s certainly one way of describing it. Yes, I suppose you’re right—my father is a bit of a bastard, isn’t he?” Newt laughs awkwardly, unsure whether to agree or attempt to weakly the defend a guy who openly hated him for being a bad influence on Hermann most of his childhood; he’s grateful when Hermann continues and saves him the choice. “This is the first year I’ve come home in a long while. My brother’s just had a daughter, you see, and I thought I should start getting used to playing uncle.”

“Oh, congrats,” Newt says. Hermann shrugs, and Newt has the distinct feeling that this is Hermann’s older brother, who used to dissemble Hermann’s telescope and hide the pieces around the house when Hermann annoyed him, and tattled on Newt and Hermann to Hermann’s parents the one time Newt snuck in to see Hermann after he got banned. He always made Newt thankful that he was an only child. “Same here, actually. Not the uncle thing—I mean I haven’t visited since I was in college. Too busy.”

“I know,” Hermann says, and then adds teasingly (in a way that makes color flood Newt’s cheeks and his heart beat just a little faster), “I’ve looked you up online. Er—quite a bit recently, in fact. I was curious. You’ve made quite the name for yourself, haven’t you, Dr. Geiszler?”

“I,” Newt squeaks, and then coughs. “I mean, I guess? I like…science.”

“I oughtn’t be surprised,” Hermann says. “You were always giving me bugs, and salamanders, and funny little frogs—”

Newt liked bugs, and salamanders, and frogs, but he liked Hermann more, and the gifts had a lot more to do with the latter than the former, because what kid wouldn’t want bugs or salamanders or frogs, right? Not that Hermann ever appreciated them—especially not the worms Newt would pluck from the sidewalks after rainstorms. He thinks he got grounded for that one, too, because his grandma wouldn’t believe that he really wasn’t trying to terrorize the poor Gottlieb boy. “And what about you?” Newt says. He pokes his elbow into Hermann’s side. “Dr. Gottlieb? Guess those model rockets paid off.”

(“No, Newton,” Hermann would snap at him on the rare occasions he would allow Newt to watch him piece one together, “the glue hasn’t dried yet. You have to be patient, or else it’ll fall apart.”)

“Not yet,” Hermann says, “but I hope soon.”

Hermann smiles at him. A snowflake catches in his eyelashes—his long, pretty, dark eyelashes. “Do you remember when you kissed me here?” Newt blurts out.

“It’s hardly the sort of thing I’d forget,” Hermann says. He reaches out and tucks a piece of Newt’s hair up into his hat. “I like your tattoos—I saw the photographs on your social media accounts. They suit you.” Newt wonders if this means Hermann saw the shirtless selfie he posted on Instagram. “I’m also pleased to see you’ve gotten your braces removed. It wasn’t a very pleasant experience last time.”

Then he leans in and kisses Newt. Again, technically. It’s so light and brief Newt hardly believes it even happened. Their glasses clack together, and when Hermann pulls away, he straightens out Newt’s.

“I confess,” Hermann says, “that I’m wholly pleased to see how you’ve turned out. I hope that wasn’t too forward of me. I’ve been thinking about doing it all night.”

“Jeez, dude,” Newt says, blinking at him, his head swimming just a little. Hermann looks smug. “Not, uh, not too forward. So. Uh. You wanna get dinner or something this week and catch up?”

Hermann snorts, and nods.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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salvejoon · 4 years ago

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Soft & Shy - jjk | M

⇒ Summary: You and Jungkook take the next step in your relationship but there’s something he hasn’t told you yet.

⇒ Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

⇒ Genre: Fluff and smut.

⇒ Rating: 18+

⇒ Word count: 5.7k

⇒ Warnings: oral (male receiving) dry humping, grinding, unprotected sex (wrap it up my dudes), soft sex, undertones of dom!reader and sub!Gookie, it’s just a soft mess, Gookie is a good boy for his Noona, slight Noona kink.

⇒ A/N: Hello you beautiful bastards! I am back with another ramble jamble and I hope you guys like it! Unedited for now.

Tagging: @sugarly-laysa @pars-ley @ditttiii

Nervous hands grasped your hips and you smiled. Hot breath fanned past your ear and goosebumps spread on your skin. A soft chuckle rumbled against your back and you put your hands above the ones on your hips, interlacing your fingers. Your hips swayed to the beat of the music and the person behind you followed effortlessly, keeping your bodies close and in-sync to the rhythm.

Then one of the hands moved to your ass and gently groped.

You grinned and released your hands, turning around to face the person you were currently dancing with. Big doe eyes stared back at you and they widened when you put your arms around his neck, his cheeks getting flushed at the new closeness and while you smiled up at him, he seemed to have trouble finding a new spot to place his hands.

Oh, how sweet and shy Jeon Jungkook was.

Right from the moment you had met him, he had been shy and mildly awkward. Which had made your teaching sessions a little bit stiff in the beginning. The Idol had reached out to you through your mutual friend, Namjoon, for English lessons. You had been shocked and had stared at the email for about 20 minutes before calling Namjoon. It wasn’t like Jungkook didn’t know English and was adequate but he had insisted that he wanted to get better.

Enter you, an English Professor at Seoul National University.

It was quite simple really: all you had to do was have a weekly tutoring session of 2 hours but because of his busy schedule, it had to be over video calls.

The first video conference had been so awkward and filled with long pauses of silence and it was just so cringe. It was clear to you that he was really shy about speaking English and he was shy talking to you.

Namjoon had warned you that the poor boy interacted with women in a funny way but you just had to get him to warm up to you.

So, you always began the sessions with greeting him in Korean and have him talk about his day in his native language before moving onto teaching. You still didn’t understand why Jungkook felt like he needed a tutor because his English was fine. It wasn’t perfect and could get better but it was enough.

One day you asked him why he had sought you out and he told you it was because he felt bad that Namjoon was always the one who did most of the talking when they were abroad. He wanted to help his friend by easing that burden. He wanted to be able to interact more with their international fans without fearing making a spelling error or having to use a translator.

That’s when you got the feeling that below that shy and awkward exterior was a sweet and caring soul.

“Hey handsome.” You said, feeling him stiffen when you kissed his jaw, “I was wondering when you’d join me. I’ve been feeling lonely out here all by myself.”

Jungkook’s hands finally found a spot to be, your midsection and you wondered why he hadn’t placed them on your hips as earlier, “H-hey.” He stammered and you leaned back a little and smiled up at him. He looked so flustered, even in the dim lighting of the club and his eyes were everywhere except on you.

“You can grab my hips, y’know.” You drawled and grabbed his wrist, moving his hands down to your denim clad hips.

He swallowed thickly.

As the lessons continued, Jungkook had slowly opened up to you. You found out that he liked to workout, which really came as no surprise because he was quite muscular. He liked video editing, drawing and he even showed you a couple of doodles, he liked reading comics and he was a big fan of Iron Man.

He was also a walking, talking meme but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that.

But what really had brought the two of you closer were your shared love for gaming. Oh boy, when Jungkook had found out that you played video games, all teaching had went out the window and it became an interrogation of what games you played.

He hadn’t looked happy when you told him you didn’t play PUBG and gave him the reason that you didn’t want to listen to 14 year olds screaming into your ear that they fucked your mum.

You remember how flustered he had gotten when you had thrown the f-bomb so casually. So sweet and innocent.

“I… Uhm… Missed you.” Jungkook told you with a shy smile. You hummed in response and the music changed to a slower but heavier beat, “And you looked so…” He trailed off and you noticed how his eyes ventured lower.

“So what?” You drawled.

“Hot.”

You bit your lip, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach. You had chosen well when you had dressed up for tonight, “Thank you. You look quite hot yourself.”

And he was fucking hot in those ripped black jeans that just tightly covered his muscular thighs and his ass and with that stupidly gray t-shirt that just hugged his upper body like a hand-fitted and tailor made shirt.

But the leather boots topped the whole look off. You wanted said boots to step on you.

Perhaps it was the change in music, the alcohol in your systems or the way you both looked at each other with hunger but something changed in the way you danced. Swaying turned into him grabbing your hips tightly, bringing you flush against his pelvis and you fought back a moan when he guided your hips to grind against him.

Sweet and innocent Jungkook was currently nowhere to be seen.

Jungkook began calling you up outside of your weekly sessions so the two of you could play games together. You often ended up playing something he wanted which was usually Overwatch. That was when you had discovered that he had a competitive streak and that he was a sore loser.

God, how you had whooped his sucky ass Symmetra main with your Ashe. Get gud, son, or get wrecked.

You had no idea the man could curse like that, considering when you so much as said the word ‘fuck’, he would get all flustered.

After a few gaming sessions, you had finally gotten to chose the game the two of you would play and seeing as you loved shooters and horror, why not a zombie game?

Oh boy, you still regretted that. Never in your life had you heard a man scream so loud.

Jungkook was apparently also a scaredy cat.

You felt him nose at your ear, his unsteady breathing making you shiver. It was getting hot, too hot but you didn’t dare move away from him. He was almost vibrating and you wondered if you would have bruises left from how tight he was grabbing your hips. Then he placed a thigh between your legs and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you this time. Your arms tightened around his neck, drawing him ever closer and he captured your lips with a whine.

Namjoon had told you that Jungkook had really improved over the course of your tutoring. It made you happy to hear but also sad because the tutoring was over. Jungkook had sneakily wormed his way into your heart and you would be straight out lying if you said you hadn’t developed a crush on him.

There was just the problem that he would never feel the same. Not when he had millions of other women, some much more fitting than you, begging him, seeking his attention.

It had also taken a lot of you to admit your feelings for him because he was an Idol and was therefore, unattainable, then there was the fact that he was younger than you and not only by 1 or two years but 5 years and your experience with younger men was, mildly put, not great.

He was at the peak of his career while you… You had other thoughts for your future than he had for his.

The last video call the two of you had, had been an uneasy one. You hadn’t tutored much and had simply listened to Jungkook talking about the last concert they’d had in the States. He was so happy and he glowed and it made your heart do all sorts of jumps in your chest.

Jungkook was also very perceptive and he had surprised you when he had asked why you were sad.

You decided to be honest and told him that you were saddened that the two of you would part ways. He told you that the two of you would not part ways but now he was free to treat you as a friend and not a teacher.

That had stung a bit.

He surprised you again by asking you out for dinner to thank you properly for helping him… And to finally meet up in person.

You happily agreed.

Your hands grabbed the hair at his nape and Jungkook groaned into the kiss, giving you the chance to snake your tongue into his mouth and he met it timidly with his own. His hands clenched and unclenched while you made out on the dance floor, bodies still grinding against each other. A familiar heat spread in your abdomen and it slowly clouded your mind.

“Noona…” He breathed as you drew back and looked into his eyes: they were blown out, almost black.

“Don’t call me that.” You sighed and licked your lips, “It does weird things to me.”

The dinner was at a small but slightly more expensive restaurant, close to their dorm. It offered him and you a bit of safety and privacy. When you had seen the place, how luxurious it was, you knew there was no way in hell your card would go through once you had to pay.

Jungkook showed up looking handsome as ever in a pair of ripped jeans, a white t-shirt with a black cardigan and black sneakers.

He looked like such a boyfriend. Except yours.

You felt underdressed in your retail skirt and frailed blouse. Jungkook didn’t agree and told you that you looked pretty. It was the first time he had called you anything of the sort and he had done so with blushing cheeks.

The attraction you had felt for him grow over the past few months of tutoring him only increased ten fold during that dinner. To sit across from him, seeing his doe eyes in real life and not through a screen, to be able to hear his laugh clear as day and to be able to touch him. It was a dream come true.

He had thanked you so many times for being his tutor and you had waved him off, telling him that it was nothing but to him it was a lot. He was so sweet and such a gentleman that evening and the two of you had left the restaurant in good moods.

Until he grabbed your hand and tugged you along for a stroll underneath the darkening sky of Seoul.

He didn’t let go of your hand, even when you reached your car. Shyly, he had shifted on his feet, kicking the asphalt beneath them, rubbing his neck with his free hand and you waited for him to say something.

Y/N… Noona, I like you. I have for a while.

Needless to say, those weren’t words you had expected to hear but you had tugged him closer to you and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek.

I like you too, Jungkook. Coffee next week?

That was the beginning of you dating Jeon Jungkook.

Now, two months into your dating, you wondered if the two of you would ever leave that stage of dating and actually become a couple officially. But you had promised him and yourself to take it slow because of his lifestyle and because you didn’t want to rush into another relationship that would only end up breaking your heart.

Yet after a month of dating you could already say you had fallen in-love with him.

Your lips grazed his and when he bent down to try and capture them, you leaned back with a small smile, “It’s getting late.”

Jungkook blinked a few times, as if trying to clear his mind, “B-but…”

“No buts, baby.” You grabbed his hand and led him away from the dance floor, towards the exit. Behind you, Jungkook was pouting but he followed you obediently. The haze he’d been in while dancing with you was slowly lifting, allowing him to think somewhat clear thoughts. He didn’t want to go home to the dorm. He didn’t want to part from you already. He didn’t think he would survive another date night ending up with the two of you parting ways.

He wanted you so much, it ached. He ached to touch you in ways he had never touched anyone before but there was just one problem… Well, two really. He was so damn shy and had a hard time voicing his desire.

And he had never had sex.

A fact you didn’t know.

Jungkook was so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed you hailing a cab and were standing in front of him, it wasn’t until you waved a hand in front of his eyes that he noticed what was happening.

“You okay?” You asked with a tilt of your head. You still held his hand tightly in yours, your thumb caressing it slowly.

He realized that he had to push past his insecurities if he wanted to take things further with you. He bent down and captured your lips, the sudden kiss making you gasp and he pulled you to him, his free hand grabbing your nape.

“Jungkook - mhm - the cab…”

“I don’t want to go home.” He said, surprised at how steady his voice was, “I don’t want to leave you.”

“What are you saying?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I want to go home… With you.”

You were at a loss for words. Sure, you had wanted to hear him say those words for months but now that you’ve heard them, you were unsure of how to proceed because if he came home with you tonight, there was no way that you could keep your hands to yourself.

You would have a hard time with it, anyhow.

“Baby, are you sure?”

“I am.” He nodded curtly before flashing you a tiny smile, “Noona.” His smile widened at how your pupils expanded at the word.

“And you aren’t drunk?”

“I’ve had two beers, Y/N.”

“I just want to make sure you aren’t making a decision that you’re going to regret, Gookie.”

Jungkook pecked your lips and stepped onto the asphalt, opening the sidedoor of the cab, “Ladies first.” He helped you inside the cab and entered it himself. You told the driver your address and he drove off.

The nervousness returned tenfold in the cab and Jungkook was shifting in the seat, biting his lower lip nervously as he stole glances at you. You looked so calm as you looked out the window, the street lights illuminating your face as you drove pass them. He swallowed to ease the sudden dryness in his throat.

“Are you nervous?” You asked with a side glance.

“A-A little.”

You reached out with your hand and you grabbed his larger one, noticing how sweaty his palm was, “I can tell. We can make him drop you off at the dorm if-”

“No. I want you, Y/N.”

It was now your turn to blush. Such bold words coming from sweet and shy Jungkook made the heat in your abdomen flare and your spine tingled.

Did he have any idea how fucking hot that was?

You nodded, “Okay.”

Only a few more blocks to go.

You unlocked your front door and switched on the light in the hallway. Jungkook followed close behind you, still looking nervous. You brushed past him to lock the door again and his cologne caressed your senses.

Christ, he smelled so good. You wanted to whimper.

He took off his shoes and waited for you to hang up your coat but as you turned and your eyes fell on him, your gaze heady and strong, taking in his slightly trembling form, eyes honing in on how he chewed that poor bottom lip of his in anticipation… Your coat fell from your hand as you crossed the distance between the two of you, grabbing the front of his t-shirt as you pulled him flush up against you, your lips crashing together, a messy dance of more teeth than tongue. You backed him up against the back wall of the entrance hallway and on impact, he yelped into the kiss but you swallowed the sound.

Jungkook couldn’t form a single word in his mind as your tongue massaged his and grinded your body against his. It felt different from the other times you’d had a make-out session.

It was hungry.

Your hands ventured lower until they found his belt but that was when something snapped in him.

“Wait.”

You stopped immediately and looked up at him, puzzled, “Did I do something wrong?” You asked worriedly, afraid that you’d done something wrong.

He shook his head, “I-I just…” He gently pushed you away from him and took your hands into his, “Can we talk?” He asked before bringing your hands to his lips, kissing them.

“S-Sure.” You nodded, feeling the mood change as you led him to the living room and turned on the table lamp next to your couch. Jungkook sat down with a small sigh and was quick to hold your hands again when you sat down next to him.

“Is there something wrong, Jungkook?” You asked him, your tone serious but a little wavy. Had you scared him? Did he feel like you had pushed him? It had been his idea but you wouldn’t do anything if he didn’t want it.

“No. Nothing’s wrong, Y/N.” He shook his head.

“If you don’t want to anything, we can just go to bed. I can take the couch.” You offered and he let out a huff, “I’m serious. If you feel like I’ve come on to strong or felt like I’ve pushed you then I’m sorry.”

“What? No, babe. It’s not that. I want you so badly but I have something to tell you.”

You froze when he said that and he noticed immediately. Your heart hammered in your chest in anticipation.

“I-I’ve never…”

“Never what, baby?”

“Done it.”

“... Done it?”

He groaned at your confused expression, “Had sex, Y/N. I’ve never had sex.”

“Oh. Oh.” You leaned back slightly and shifted your gaze from his face to your intertwined hands, “Oh.”

“That’s all you have to say? ‘Oh’?” He sounded annoyed and you looked up at him again. So that was the reason why he had never suggested staying over at your place even when you had openly invited him.

He was a virgin.

It was like you were hit with a bat of desire at the revelation. One of the most attractive bachelors, one which had rows upon rows of women wanting to fuck him, of which he could just pick and choose as he pleased… Chose you to be his first.

“Do you not want me anymore?” He then asked and gone was the annoyed tone. Instead his tone sounded defeated, unsure, scared.

“Oh baby.” You smiled at him and let go of his hands to cup his face, “Of course I want you. I lo-” You stopped and instead cleared your throat, “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He kissed the palm of your hand and smiled, “That makes me happy. You make me happy.”

His sweet words only stoked the fire that was in the pit of your stomach, spreading to the rest of your body, “I don’t care about that.” You moved and Jungkook stiffened as you sat on top of him, straddling his thighs, “I’m happy that you told me.” You whispered before kissing him.

You gently caressed his lips with your own, your hands moving down his chest to the hem of his t-shirt, “Can I?” You asked against his lips as you tugged at his shirt and when he nodded, you lifted it over his head, letting it fall from your hand next to the couch as your eyes drank in his upper body.

You licked your lips, “Damn.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Not at all. I’m just taking in the view.”

“D-Don’t tease me, Noona.”

You sought his mouth again and Jungkook whimpered into the kiss as your hands glided across his skin of his stomach, feeling the muscles beneath twitch and up to his chest.

He flinched when your fingers grazed his right nipple. It hardened under your gentle pinching and he let out a whine when you dragged your lips from his mouth and began kissing down to his jaw, nibbling softly.

You moved further down to his neck and you watched as his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. You wanted to mark his pretty neck with love bites, so your lips latched onto the skin, sucking and his hips bucked up against you as he let out a gasp.

“Noona,” He whined, his fingers straining against the fabric of your blouse, “You too.”

You hummed in response and drew back, lifting your blouse over your head and you had to fight a chuckle at how his eyes widened at the sight of your bra-clad breast. You moved your hands behind your back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall down your arms slowly as you kept gauging his reaction.

The gentle thud of it falling to the floor made him gulp.

Without speaking a word, you took one of his hands and led it to your left breast, biting your lip when his large hand cupped it, his thumb gliding over the nipple.

“Am I doing okay?” He asked, glancing up at your face and when he saw you nod, he cupped your other breast as he leaned down to take your left nipple into his mouth, causing you to cry out and grind down against him.

Your eyes fluttered close as Jungkook slowly sucked on your nipple, your hips acting on their own accord as they grinded against the hardness in his jeans. A particular roll of your hips made his hips buck and you moaned loudly when it bumped against your clit.

The two of you grinded against each other while he lavished your breasts, licking, tugging at your nipples until they hardened.

“Fuck.” You murmured and suddenly pushed him back against the couch, causing his lips to release your nipple with a wet pop, “Sit back and enjoy.” You told him as he gazed up at you with blown out eyes and saliva on his lips.

“What do you - oh shit - Y/N.” Jungkook watched with slightly wide eyes as you descended to sit on the floor, between his legs, your hands hovering above his belt while you looked up at him pleadingly.

“Can you take them off?” You asked with a sweet smile and he nodded. Your hands undid his belt and you sat back as he slowly unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper, pushing his jeans down to mid-thigh.

You felt saliva pool on your tongue as you saw the bulge in his trousers. The outline was big and there was a dark spot where he had leaked some precum.

He twitched when your index finger ran along his cock, following the shape of it, until it reached the head and your fingers sought out his trousers, gently tugging at the elastic band holding them up.

“Take them off for me, baby.” You coaxed, looking up at him. He looked so cute from where you sat: cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen, his jaw set tight as he processed your words. Patiently, you waited as he shoved down his trousers to his pants and you scooted over so that he could take everything off completely.

Now you gulped because what was in front of you was the prettiest dick you had ever seen. It was slightly darker than the rest of his skin, the head was mushroom-shaped, colored in an angry red. The thick vein that ran on the underside of it made your mouth water.

“D-Don’t stare at it like that…” He murmured and shifted on the couch nervously. The look you had on your face was scary.

It looked like you were about to eat him whole.

You chuckled softly, “Does my staring make you nervous, Gookie?” He curtly nodded at your question, “Oh baby. I’m going to take good care of you. Just sit back and relax.”

“Okay.”

“Tell me if it doesn’t feel good.”

Your hand grabbed it, thumb gliding over the head, spreading the wetness and above you, Jungkook hissed out a ‘fuck’. You licked your lips as you moved your hand up and down a few times, your eyes flicking back and forth between his cock and his face.

His hands were clenching and unclenching at his side as he watched you place a kiss to the tip before opening your mouth, taking him in, “Ahh.”

You closed your eyes and let your jaw go slack, slowly taking him in further, carefully listening to the sounds he made. Your tongue swirled around the head a few times before you surprised him by swallowing his length whole, causing him to let out a loud whine.

“Y/N…” Jungkook arched his back as your mouth moved back up his cock, tongue licking the thick vein on the underside, “Please.”

You hummed, the vibrations causing a slew of curses to escape his mouth. The sounds he was making went straight to your core and you resisted the urge to put a hand down your pants to give yourself some much needed relief.

This was about Jungkook.

Instead you squeezed your thighs together, trying to alleviate the pressure building. He whined when you swallowed, the sensation of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You glanced up and saw him raise a hand to his mouth, biting into it, muffling the pretty sounds.

You withdrew from his cock and he let out a frustrated whine, “I want to hear you, baby.”

“But it’s so loud and I-”

“I want to hear you.” His cock twitched in your hand at your commanding tone and you raised a brow: so Gookie liked being told what to do.

“Yes, Noona.”

Oh, you were going to ruin him.

“Good boy.”

You descended on him again and he let his head fall back against the couch as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. He felt like something was ready to snap inside of him and he tried to relax and let the sensation wash over him when you suddenly stopped.

“No!” He huffed, looking down at you desperately, “Why’d you stop? It felt so good, Noona, please…”

“I know, baby, but what’s next is much better.” You stood back up and leaned down to place a kiss on his lips. He had a pout when you drew back, “Don’t pout, Gookie. I’ll make it up to you.”

“Promise?”

“Of course, baby.”

Your hands went to your jeans and your fingers unbuttoned them, feeling his eyes on you the entire time. You dragged them down to your feet and stepped out of them and the man before you groaned as he saw your ruined lace panties, your wetness clinging to the fabric as you pulled them down as well and shoved the pile away with a foot.

You ran a hand from your breasts down to your center, hissing softly when you ran a finger through the wetness there, “See how wet you’ve made me, baby?”

“But I haven’t done anything.” He said, voice shaking.

You smirked and climbed on top of him, keeping eye-contact as you put your finger into your mouth, tasting yourself on your tongue. Jungkook whimpered as you moaned above him, “Noona, don’t tease me.”

“I’m not, sweety.”

“Yes you are.”

“My pouty baby.” You kissed him languidly as you let your weight rest on his thighs, his cock trapped between your bodies, “You’re so cute.”

“Y/N.” He groaned and drew back, “Please.”

“What do you want, Gookie? Tell me.” You asked as you snaked a hand down between your bodies, grabbing his cock, moving it so it was under you and you smirked when he whined loudly as the head grazed your soaked cunt, “I want to hear it.”

“I… I want to be inside you.” He strained out, hands moving to grasp at your hips as you ran his cock between your folds, “Please, please, please.”

You keened at his begging, “Good boy.” You kissed him one last time before settling back, aligning his member with your entrance, “You ready, baby?” You asked, taking one last look at his face and once you saw his nod, you slowly descended onto him, “Fuck.” You mumbled, the stretch burning slightly as you’d had no preparation but you loved it.

“Ah, it’s so tight.” He huffed out as your hips settled against his, “But it feels good.”

You smiled at him as he looked up at you, his doe eyes sparkling in the dim lighting and your heart leaped at the emotions in the dark depths. You moved your hands up his neck, to his face, caressing his soft cheeks with your thumbs as you leaned down to kiss him.

“Noona.” He sighed happily into your mouth, fingers grabbing your hips, trying to get you to move, “Move.”

“So impatient.” You huffed but leaned your upper body back, your left hand finding steady purchase on his thigh and you lifted your body up, seeing how Jungkook’s eyes ventured down to where you were joined and you sat back down. He hissed at the motion and you did a few times, slowly moving up and down his cock, finding a steady and slow rhythm.

You moaned loudly when you felt him begin to push up against you, meeting your thrusts with his own, “Jungkook.”

His eyes snapped up to yours and he took in your expression each time the both of you moved. Your skin had a rosy hue to it and it glistened in the light. To him, you had never looked more beautiful as right now, on top of him, riding him so sensually.

He was so whipped for you.

“You feel so good, baby.” You praised, sitting back down harshly, causing him to cry out and you began to gyrate your hips, “So fucking good.”

He moved his hands to your ass and squeezed the soft globes, helping you move, “You do too, Noona.”

You threw your head back when his hips bucked and his cock hit a particular soft, fleshy spot inside you, “Do it again, baby.”

He nodded and began fucking up into you, groaning when he felt your walls clench around him, “W-What’s happpening?”

You didn’t answer him, instead moaning out your pleasure loudly, which only spurred on Jungkook and his thrusts got faster and harder and every time he hit that fleshy spot at just the right angle. The heat in your belly spread to your legs and you trembled as you got closer to the edge.

“Don’t fucking stop.” You whimpered, moving a hand to claw at his shoulder, “Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

He groaned when your walls clenched around him, this time tighter than before, “Are you cumming, Noona?” He asked, gauging your face, “I can feel your walls clench around me.”

Your spine tingled and you let out a whine as you surged forward, your arms going around his neck as he picked up his pace even more, causing you to bite his shoulder.

“I’m so close.”

“Me too, baby.”

Then the sneaky bastard moved a hand from your ass and between your slicked bodies and he found your clit, causing you to stiffen in his arms as he applied pressure to the hardened nub. The heat exploded and your body went stiff as you let out a scream into the junction of his neck and shoulder, your legs spasming beside him and your cunt danced around him as you came.

Jungkook let out a cry as he thrust a few times and pulled out, just in time before his cum spurted out and onto your bodies. He kept on letting out soft whines and whimpers as he came down from his high.

Breathing raggedly, you hugged him tighter to you and felt his arms go around you, his face pressed up against your breasts, “That was amazing.” He huffed.

“It was. You did so well, Gookie.” You said as you nuzzled his neck, “So good.”

“You did too, Noona.” He pushed you back so he could look at you, his hands gently removing hair from your face, “I’m glad it was you. Thank you.”

You smiled and leaned into his hand, “No, thank you for letting me be your first, baby.”

He smiled a little as his thumb caressed your cheek and he stared into your eyes, “I wanted you to be my first because…” He paused and leaned forward, his hand falling to your shoulder as he hid his face against your shoulder, “Because I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, Jeon Jungkook.” You grabbed his face and moved it so you could look at him, “Don’t say that and hide away.”

“But-”

“No buts. I want to look into your eyes when I tell you,” You quickly pecked his lips and then squeezed his cheeks together, “That I am in-love with you too.” He tried to speak but with his face squished, it only came out a muffled mumble, “Idiot.”

He growled, grabbed your ass and stood up, causing you to yelp and swing your legs around his narrow waist, “What are you doing?” You asked, your hands grabbing his shoulders.

“This idiot is moving to the bedroom.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to make love to my girlfriend.”

“Ew. How sappy.”

“Shut up, Noona.”

#thebtswritersclub #cypherwritersnet #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x noona

169 notes · View notes

kirishwima · 5 years ago

Note

Can I have all with then helping you take care of curly hair ?

yes!!! im a fellow curly-haired person and my dude......it’s a StruggleTM

I didn’t add Saeran, but if you’d like me to write for him too let me know! :)

YOOSUNG:

* Honestly, as a kid he loved to try and braid his sister’s hair, even if he always ended up tugging at her locks until she got mad at him lol

* So when he heard MC’s groan of furstration from the half-open bedroom door, he gingerly peeked his head into the room, smiling at the sight; his beloved, sitting on the bed cross legged in their bath robe, a hairbrush stuck in their slowly-drying wet curls.

* MC looked at him, exasperated as they pointed to the brush still stuck in their hair, defying gravity at all costs.

* “Do you see what I have to deal with? I swear, I should just shave my head and get this whole mess over with” they groaned, and Yoosung laughed as he walked to sit besides them, leaning to kiss them on the corner of their lips.

* “Can I try brushing it for you? I don’t know if I’ll be any good but-I want to help!”

* Hesitantly, MC nodded; they knew that it was probably a bad idea, that even if Yoosung meant well he might end up tangling their thick curls more than they already were, but his hopeful look, the small shy smile he gave them-how could anyone say no to that face?!

* So Yoosung sat on his knees on the bed behind MC, gently pulling curls away from the hairbrush to try and tug it off of MC’s head. Surprisingly...it didnt’ hurt all that much. Sure, when he finally tried to pull the brush off of the remaining strands of hair MC could feel the pull, but Yoosung’s movements were so slow and light, MC sighed a sigh of relief.

* As he seperated their hair into small sections, brushing through their hair so slow the ministrations felt almost like a massage, MC felt their eyes flutter shut. Was there such a thing as being a pro in hair brushing? If so, Yoosung should win all awards for that-MC would see to that, no matter what.

* Once Yoosung was done with the back and moved to the final strands framing MC’s face, he noticed how slump their body became, how as he shifter they lolled onto him, their head on his chest as they slowly fell asleep. He smiled, setting down the brush to tug MC closer to him, letting them rest on his chest. He’d be sure to ask them to brush their hair every day from now on.

ZEN:

* You’d think he’s a pro at hair brushing considering his long rat tail-ehm, ponytail.

* (I have a personal vendetta against that ridiculous ‘pony tail’ im sORRY-)

* Whilst he always has hair ties and hair beauty products laying around, he’s actually the WORST person MC could ask to help them style their thick curly hair-his was so silky soft and straight, he literally barely had a used for hairbrushes. Instead, MC was left to suffer, lathering product after product on their hair to keep their curls prim and proper, preforming a whole ritual when it came to brushing their hair after a shower.

* Zen, bless his sweet loving soul, he tried to be helpful-he’d bring MC shampoos specific for curly hair, would look online for hairstyles they could do, but when it came to actually helping MC tame their curly head-that’s where he became a clumsy mess.

* He was so afraid of accidentantly tugging on MC’s hair, that he nearly refused to touch their head at all. If he saw MC struggling to tie their hair in a pony tail, loose strands falling out of their grip, he’d simply point it out to them, refusing to actually touch their girls-what if he pulled on it and MC squealed in pain? He’d never forgive himself for that.

* However, late at night, when MC would be asleep-he’d gingerly run his fingers along their soft curls, smile to himself as they shuffled closer to his hand at the sensation; it’s something he didnt’ allow himself in the morning light, but here, with MC asleep, and with his hands moving ever so gently, he knew it’d be impossible to hurt them-not if the way they nuzzled into his hand was any indication.

* Seriously though, Zen, PLEASE just help poor MC next time you see them struggling to braid their hair. It’s just hair for God’s sake just-help them out! They won’t bite!!

JAEHEE:

* As a girl with very short hair, she actually has a hair-care routine that rivals any lazy man’s; she uses an all-in-one shampoo-conditioner, much to MC’s horror, and just simply dries her hair with a towel then lets them be. No hair care oils, no special shampoos, nothing. She just....lets them be.

* Well, not under MC’s watch she won’t-MC is actually the reason why Jaehee eventually let her hair grow out into the gorgeous wavy locks she now has-she saw the special care MC took with their curls, how they even used specific satin pillow cases so their hair wouldn’t frizz up, and Jaehee looked to her own hair, tugging at a strand with a soft frown.

* Eventually, she shyly asked MC for advice-her cheeks went bright red as MC smiled and took a hold of Jaehee’s hand, taking her to their favorite beauty store to look at products that could match Jaehee’s hair.

* Once Jaehee’s hair started growing longer, they actually set up a small daily ritual together-they’d help each other brush their hair after a shower (”Never brush dry hair!” MC would chastise Jaehee, and she’d simply nod, never really asking why-not until one day, she saw MC purposly combing through their dry curls for a 70s’ themed party, lol), they had their favorite hair oils and dry conditioners on the bathroom coutner, ready at all times-Jaehee considered these times an intimate quiet moment between the two, happy to have someone she loves to build a routine with.

* At some point the two decided to dye their hair together-they worked at their own coffee shop, they were their own boss, so there was no one around to tell them not to go crazy with their hair, right?

* So Jaehee chose a gorgeous ombre for her hair, starting as her natural colour on the roots, ending into a deep purple on the ends; and MC chose a vibrant blue, ‘to match their bright personality’ as Jaehee put it.

* Seeing kids stop and look at their hair in awe always brought a smile to Jaehee’s lips; and seeing MC smile as bright as they did, their blue curls framing their face, she felt her heart swell with love.

JUMIN:

* Honestly...he has every good intention, but MC should never, EVER let him near their hair.

* He’d love to run his hands through MC’s curls, yet everytime he tries to, his fingers end up stuck inbetween locks, eliciting a soft hiss of pain from MC-he always apologizes, and MC never chastisies him for it, but damn did it hurt!

* Sometimes he’d see the strenuous process MC went through to comb their hair after a shower, how they’d yell curses at the brush when it got stuck in their hair-he frowned at that, wondering what he could do to help MC with their struggle.

* “Darling”, he decided, “I’ll hire a personal hair stylist for you. You’ll never have to yell insults at a brush ever again.”

* Jumin...no. MC explained there was no need for that, their hair was just naturally the way it was and there’s little to be done about it.

* “Then I can find the best hair stylist to make your hair permanently straight. Would that help?”

* “No!” MC looked to him; they explained how they appreciated the sentiment, but even if it was a pain in the butt sometime, they loved their natural hair-there’s so many people paying to have curls like they do, and they have the privilege of having them naturally-it’s something they got from their parents, something that links them to their family, and they’d never want to alter it permanently in such a way.

* Jumin hummed, but nodded, and instead decided to be the best um, hair...hair-supporter he could be. He’d buy the best products for curly hair he could find, not-so-discreetly putting them in MC’s stuff, buying anti-frizz hair brushes, and even changing all their pillows into specific, satin ones so that MC would never have to wake up with a frizzy head ever again.

* Honestly, 10/10, this man just wants his beloved to be happy and he’ll do his best to do that, give him some credit

SEVEN:

* He’s the type of person that CONSTANTLY gets bored with his look, and the easiest thing to change is your hair, so...

* ...So he’ll have a different hair colour every other month. From neon pink to darker than the night sky, this boy has tried every hair style and colour under the sun.

* He has never, ever dealt with curls as pretty as MC’s before. He’ll compliment their hair constantly, and will often try and tug at their curls to see them recoil like a bouncy spring-MC would simply look at him with distaste, but soon smile as they see the fascination in his big bright eyes.

* He wants to match MC’s pretty hair too!!

* Of course he’ll let his hair grow out a little longer so he can curl them, burnign his hand on the curl iron more than once-eventually he’d ask for MC’s help with a defeated tone as yet another faield curl frizzes and goes limp on his head, unable to stay as thick and curly as he’d like it to be.

* So rather than him helping MC take care of their hair....MC would be the one to style his hair and curl it, dousing it with hairspray to keep the curls in place-and boy, the excited look on Saeyoung’s face is so, so worth it.

* “Baby look! We match now!” he screams, hugging MC as he hides his face in their curls and yeah-he’s a big idiot alright, but he’s their idiot.

V/JIHYUN:

* He’ll constantly compliment MC’s curls, smilign whenever he sees how they bounce as they turn their head this way and that-it’d frequently become a muse for his drawings, which let’s face it, would feature MC 90% of the time.

* He’d never personally suggest he help MC brush or style their hair-he doesn’t know anythign about curls, and would hate to do anything to hurt or ruin MC’s hair.

* If MC asks though, he’ll be there in an instant-he’s so gentle and if MC asks him to help brush their hair, he’ll hold them form high up near the roor and brush them with his wrist behind the locks for support, instinctually knowing how to brush them without hurting MC.

* Don’t ever ask him to braid hair though-while he’d love nothing more than to do beautiful intricate braids on MC’s head, he finds it impossible to seperate their curls enough to form sections to braid-MC would instead probably end up with a sad excuse of a pigtail...but well, A for effort, right?

* This poor bean is trying his best though, so cut him some slack. He’ll even go online and look at tutorials so he’ll be prepared for the next time MC asks for help!

* Might jokingly ask if MC would like to dye their hair to match his-if they do, he’ll be so shocked but also happy because hey-they match!!!

-send me a mystic messenger headcanon/scenario for characters reactions!-

#curly hair gang uniteee #although mine's been tamer now that ive bleached and cut them lol #mystic messenger #mysme #mystic messenger prompts #mysme prompts. mystic messenger headcanons #mysme headcanons #write-for-your-life2

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makeste · 5 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 236: Mr. Stark I Don’t

Previously on BnHA: We kicked off Year Five Of This Bullshit with another Tomura flashback! Once upon a time there was a boy named Tenko. Little Tenko was very cute and happened to have a real prick of a father who forbid his kids from talking about heroes and punished them severely when they broke that rule. Like, he locked Tenko outside for hours and even fucking hit him when he found out he looked at that picture of Nana. It was super fucked up and very unpleasant to read, and on top of that Horikoshi peppered the entire chapter with hints that the supposedly quirkless Tenko was slowly developing his Decay quirk, so much of the chapter was also spent waiting for that shoe to drop. The chapter ended with a sobbing Tenko hugging his dog Mon-chan (a very good boy) and thinking that he hated everyone, as the scene slowly faded to black. After that we don’t know what happened. Presumably Mon-chan went to live on a farm with lots of other puppies where he could spend the rest of his days in cute doggy bliss. I’m sure Horikoshi will allow me to continue indulging in this theory.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi doesn’t let me indulge in shit! Horikoshi is all “lol bitch you thought!!” Horikoshi shows us the dead dog!! Horikoshi shows us the scared and sobbing child! Horikoshi shows us the sister! Horikoshi shows us the grandma and grandpa and the mom! Meanwhile poor Kotaro is all, “I suddenly wonder where my whole family has gone,” and goes outside and sees All Of That and is horror-struck. Through a series of terrible but also hilarious coincidences he accidentally smacks Tenko with a big stick, and Tenko suddenly realizes he’d like nothing more than to just STRAIGHT UP!! MURDER HIS DAD!! and so he does. And that’s basically it, guys. That’s my summary of the chapter. I would also like to add that for some reason I ended up fucking loving it in the end, though it was a real roller coaster back and forth until those last few pages. So yeah. Might want to steer clear of me, because I’m sure that’s some kind of red flag there. This motherfucking chapter, guys. I don’t even know.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added one or two ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

thank you anon but rest assured I’m already filled with a deep and profound dread. so we’re good

oh. heh

well that’s just. okay. sure. so a whole nother chapter of this. okay yeah that’s great

oh sweet jesus mary joseph oh shit oh fuck oh SHIT

THAT’S NOT A FARM!! HORIKOSHI!! WE HAD A DEAL! YOU SET ME UP

holy shit!?!? and this is only the start of the chapter oh god. oh god oh god. MR. STARK I DON’T

no thank you I want to return it. reason: item exactly as described. I don’t know what I was expecting. we knew exactly what was going to happen. but I still -- !!

how is the anime going to show this?? no one even wants to watch the senseless blood and violence for once. does Japan do those warning things where a “the following program includes scenes of graphic violence that may be disturbing to some viewers” screen appears before the thing airs? if not they should probably consider it. maybe change “some” to “all”, because let’s be real

anyway so guys I’m waiting for Horikoshi to email me my free shipping label so I can send this back, but in the meantime let’s continue to read I guess

WOW

THAT’S A DEAD DOG. THAT DOG IS LYING IN PIECES IN A POOL OF HIS OWN BLOOD, HUFFING HIS LAST HUFFS. HORIKOSHI REALLY DREW THAT. THAT IMAGE WAS BURNED INTO TENKO’S MIND FOR THE REST OF HIS EXISTENCE AND NOW I GET TO LIVE WITH IT AS WELL. WELL THAT’S JUST REALLY FUCKING GREAT. YIPPY SKIPPY

OH JOY

HANA GO BACK INSIDE, IF HORIKOSHI GRAPHICALLY DRAWS YOU BEING BLOWN INTO CHUNKS BY THIS FUCKING QUIRK I’M FUCKING DONE AND I QUIT. AND I KIND OF NEED TO CONTINUE UNTIL I AT LEAST LEARN BAKUGOU’S FUCKING HERO NAME, SO I’M COUNTING ON YOU HERE OKAY

by the way, this is weird though. because that didn’t look anything like the prior instances where we’ve seen Tomura use his quirk! there was no crumbling apart, no dust ominously drifting away on the breeze. it was more like poor Mon-chan just kind of fell apart into pieces. is this because the quirk is still developing and not yet at full power? or is this more AFO shenanigans in play. it at least explains why it was plausible for their hands to be intact once everything was said and done though

really I’m just trying to talk myself into believing that this didn’t actually happen and is all some grand fucked up psych out and his family is actually fine. I saw this post going around about Tenko’s mole (you know, the one on his chin) not being present in all the scenes last chapter, and the theory was that the scenes where he doesn’t have the mole were not actually real and were implanted by AFO. I personally think this is a reach, but I’m also prepared to 100% subscribe to this theory if and when anything happens to this precious baby girl when I click to the next page you guys. we shall see

okay so Hana’s apologizing because I guess she’s the one that ratted him out to their dad? girl it’s okay you were under a lot of pressure. it’s not like it’s your fault Kotaro flew off the deep end and started beating your brother

anyways but this is currently the least of your worries though oh god. she hasn’t noticed yet, and Tenko’s sobbing and trying to talk to her but his voice isn’t working??

is that because he’s traumatized, or because this is in fact a fake memory? not being able to warn a beloved person of an imminent danger is basic nightmares 101, I’m just saying. I’m actually a bit more convinced than I was just a minute ago

anyway so now she sees the dead dog, and I have a new least favorite panel in the entire series, great

hello, I hate everything about this. what the actual fuck

now she’s turning to run and I SWEAR TO GOD if Tenko instinctively reaches out to grab her... shit. I fucking...

-- WHAT DID I JUST -- !! !!!

son of a bitch. fuck. I’m literally frozen in place and having trouble willing myself to scroll down to see the rest of this. like, can we seriously just stop here. fuck!!

shit. I need a minute. holy fucking shit. I want an actual apology from Horikoshi, and an explanation for why he thought his readers apparently lacked the imagination to fill in the rest of the blanks themselves. like, I was perfectly fine with all of this just being Very Much Implied, dude. seriously

fuck me. I’m just gonna do it. power through the rest of the chapter and assess the resulting psychological damage once it’s all over and done with. okay deep breath. we’re going in

oh honey. oh baby no. oh my god the “crack crack” sound effects again, and the lines of blood appearing oh god

and of course he didn’t realize what was happening at first, didn’t realize it was him. honey it’s not your fault. but you now officially have Murder Rights to All for One, and if anyone else gets to deal the final blow I will fucking sue

hahaha, fuck

at least he didn’t go into the same level of detail as with the fucking dog. but I’m still calling the police, holy shit

if anything, Tenko’s reaction actually makes this even worse than Mon-chan’s death, though. and you know, also the fact that it was a six-year-old girl. who died terrified and in agony and not knowing why this was happening to her. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

somewhere Ito Junji is reading this and wishing he’d come up with this shit. Nakayama Masaaki is taking notes. Stephen King is waking up in a cold sweat thinking to himself that for some reason he really wants to start reading shounen manga all of a sudden

sob now everyone is running outside except for his father. of course. saving the best for last. it’s almost as though someone fucking engineered all of this to make it as psychologically damaging to the kid as possible! but who could possibly be twisted enough to do something like that? oh hey there All for One, you sure look happy. why are you smiling so much. what do you mean, it’s a secret. you son of a bitch

hey do you guys want to see the expression of a mother seeing her youngest child screaming and sobbing and covered in blood and surrounded by the bloodied remains of a dead dog and something else that is hopefully unidentifiable because if not holy shit for real? anyways, do you? you don’t? sure you do. Horikoshi thinks you do, so here it is

t-minus five seconds before the level of Horrifying escalates yet again! five... four... three...

oh shit??

did he do that thing again?? disintegrate them without even touching?? or did we just jump-cut to right afterward? because if it’s the latter, you mean to tell me we did that with the mom and grandparents but couldn’t do it with Hana and the dog!? and if it’s the former then that’s really interesting though, because I was under the impression he’d been incapable of that until just a few chapters ago when the grown-up him awakened the ability in the middle of Deika City. maybe it’s something he can only do when under extreme mental duress

oh wait, never mind, I scrolled a bit further down and it seems like his mom is still alive. I guess that was Hana he was reaching out towards there. anyways so here’s his mom’s horrified face again

actually, wait. before we click to the next page, let me go back to the four panels right above these, because this is actually really interesting and deserves more analysis

I really like this actually. Horikoshi acknowledging that even though his mother and grandparents were very kind and loving, they were still complicit in his suffering in a way because they knew what was going on, and they let it happen. this is actually huge, and I’m really grateful to Horikoshi for calling attention to it and pointing out how damaging that was. I’m actually very pleasantly surprised to see it acknowledged

but maybe I shouldn’t be, because this is after all something that’s very important to the story’s themes of heroism. my thoughts immediately ran to Horikoshi’s own favorite hero, Spider-Man, and the whole “with great power comes great responsibility” thing. if someone needs help, and you’re in a position where you could do something but you choose to not take action, then you do bear some responsibility for what follows. “when you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you”

just, this is a theme that has always resonated with me, and one of the most important themes of hero stories in general. and obviously I’m not saying Tenko’s mom and grandparents are in any way bad people, or that what happened is their fault, because it’s not! but all the same they could have done something and they didn’t, and if you were to ask me what I think is the most essential, defining aspect of what makes someone a hero, I would say it’s that. the difference between stepping in, and not stepping in. if you were to boil it down to one single point, that would be it. a hero is someone who helps

anyway. so I really like that. maybe I won’t send this chapter back after all

OR MAYBE I WILL AND NEVER FUCKING MIND!! I DON’T!! FEEL SO GOOD!! MR. STARK!!

holy shit you guys. I have no words. somewhere the person who wrote Mufasa’s death scene is taking notes. the person who wrote Littlefoot’s mom’s death is shook. the person who wrote Bambi’s mom’s death is rubbing their chin and thinking, “honestly mine is still more traumatizing, but I can still respect that”

meanwhile I, a millennial forged in the ashes of all of those childhood-defining fictional tragedies, am going to just suck it up and move on because fuck. my whole life has been preparing me for this day

oh my fucking god

fuck me why did I laugh. I fucking lost it just now. fucking gallows humor, idk

just. his entire family is being blown to little bits in the backyard, and Kotaro cracks open his fucking door and peers his head out like “hmm I thought I heard something just now. hey, where is everyone. did I miss something.” no you didn’t miss anything Kotaro, go back inside

he looks like a kid who’s not sure if he just heard the ice cream man driving by

sob. “better go investigate”

look what happened while you were taking your fucking nap, Kotaro. JUST LOOK! your son disintegrated your whole entire family and uprooted a fucking tree somehow. jesus christ

you know, the irony is I bet you that despite all of his hang-ups, he’s probably thinking “okay maybe a hero would come in fucking handy right about now”

oh shit

“you think this is a fucking joke?!” Horikoshi screams, shoving this page in my face. “you’re just going to sit there and keep making your cute little remarks?? A FAMILY IS DEAD!!” okay jeez I get it fuck

oh no, oh shit for real though I can’t

he’s so scared and traumatized and now he knows, he knows it was him who did it and he can’t bear it, and even though he hates his dad, he’s still his dad, and he’s terrified and looking for comfort from anyone at this point oh god

and for Kotaro to see his son like this, and the rest of his family dead in such a horrifying way! just!!

and fuck me, because if he reaches out to try and comfort him, if he ends up dying because his better instincts finally take over now of all fucking times; if he tries to help and Tenko knows what’s going to happen when they touch and tries to stop him but can’t...

okay but what

Tenko’s quirk is really behaving strangely though. like this is ridiculous. at this rate he’s gonna take the whole house down with him

also there’s no way all of the neighbors just sat by all la dee da and didn’t go to investigate afterwards. 100% AFO had a hand in all this. shit

now also feels like a good time to point out, before we wrap this all up, that with Kotaro being the only one still alive now, there is no one around to shout “Tenko, no...!” when that hand is reaching out to his forehead. so I’m very curious to see how Horikoshi plays this out, because now more than ever I’m suspecting that the altered memory theory is really true

(ETA: well. shit.)

anyway, so now what looks like a tree pruner is just randomly falling into Kotaro’s hands, for some reason. just like we all expected

of all the ways I imagined this actually playing out, this was not one of them

hmm, interesting

so did he disintegrate the pruner and then get pissed at his dad thinking he was trying to hurt him again? and then instinct just took over? guess we’re about to see

oh SHIT!!!

shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

just, imagine like another 7 paragraphs of me just typing out “shit” over and over again. I don’t feel like actually doing it, but that’s basically an accurate summation of my thought process right now

I bet even AFO wasn’t expecting that. I picture him whistling softly from his hiding place nearby, watching all of this go down and making that excited Andy Dwyer face to nobody in particular

holy fucking shit, holy hell

guys I just decided this is actually my favorite villain origin story of all time. just like that. holy shit. this page though

okay you know what, let me just finish this up, and then I’ll try to sort out all of my messed up feelings. one more page to go I think. probably his hair turning white

why didn’t his hair turn white. Horikoshi you’re such a fucking troll

(ETA: or did it start to change though?? it’s really hard to tell with the shading on this page tbh. but it does seem to be lighter than his shirt, and closer to the shade of his pants instead. but I can’t tell if that’s just due to the lighting here or not. anyways.)

anyways, wow. so that’s the end. let me just sit down here for a moment and try to process this

that page, though. that mental break. the idea of him being so overwhelmed by the pain and trauma of what just happened that when his dad shows up and tries (from his perspective) to hurt him again, his mind just goes !! and snaps and goes “you know what, this is better, let’s just reframe all this shit to make it a good thing so that we can cope, because to hell with that. big fat nope to the alternative, right there! yeah no thanks we are not going to do that”

and him realizing that he finally has the power to stand up to his father and stop him from hurting him. and probably a part of him is also irrationally blaming his dad for being the reason this all happened, because it’s much easier to assign blame to something tangible here, rather than it all being a freak tragic accident that no one could have prevented. (or worse, his own fault. which it isn’t, but I’m sure he subconsciously blames himself regardless, so)

and even better if the person to blame is someone you already hated. so yes, that’s much better, let’s just do that

and that whole “somewhere deep in my heart” thing, I don’t buy that for a second to be honest. but I do believe that he believes that. that for his own self-preservation he desperately latched on to this idea and convinced himself that he’d wanted this all along. that it felt good. fine, then, I’ll become a monster to save myself

I keep going back to look at his face, though. and just. holy shit. if you’d told me a week ago or even five minutes ago that Horikoshi would write out the entire thing, all of it, in all of its sickeningly detailed glory, that he would just say “fuck it” and go all out, and that I would go from “take it back” to “okay I’ll allow it” to “you can pry this incredibly fucked up chapter out of my cold dead hands” in the span of three pages, I would have thought you were insane. and yet here we are. and it is insane. and I’m fairly disturbed by my own heel-turn here actually, but I can’t deny it though

just, shit. that was so good. I’m blown away by how good that was. Deku, stop looking at me like that

you know what, you don’t get to judge me, kid, okay. shut up

anyway guys, so that was one hell of a ride. I learned some things about myself, like that I will follow this maniac of a mangaka into much deeper and more fucked up chasms than I ever expected. and Tomura learned some things about himself, and I have a lot of Concerns about those things, but I guess that’ll just have to wait until next week! all the best until then, everyone

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha 236 #shigaraki tomura #shimura hana #shimura kotaro #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #I'm working from home and it's a slow day so this recap is earlier than usual #do you know who is not having a slow day #shigaraki f***ing tomura #holy hell my man #I'm so sorry kiddo

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flowerpowell · 6 years ago

Text

You Drive Me Crazy (Colt x MC)

PART SIX

A/N: Here’s part six, which also means the series is coming to an end! Thank you for your patience with waiting for this chapter, I hope you’ll all like it! As always I dont own the characters but I’d appreciate the feedback. And please note, this is an AU!

Rating: PG-16

Word Count: 1598

Tagging: @agent-bossypants @brightpinkpeppercorn @confessionsofabrokegirl @lovehugsandcandy @walkerduchess @choicesarehard @going-down-downtown @long-gone-girl @client-327 @desireepow30 @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @umiumichan @powdesiree0816 @claudevonstruke @akrenich ♥

“I love you, Ellie,” Colt repeated and within seconds Ellie threw her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately as if they never argued, as if she remembered he was her first, as if it all made sense again.

Except that it wasn’t true. That was not the reality. The reality was harsh.

It was over.

Colt hid his face between his hands, sitting on his bed, his shirt wet from tears. His tears.

He sat there, trying to steady his breath and reminiscing about what happened only an hour ago.

“This is low, even for you!” she shouted at him from behind the closed car door.

“I just said I loved you, how is this low?!”

“Oh, please! You’ll do just everything to make me stop seeing Logan! I didn’t expect you’d actually start pretending you like me not but apparently I don’t even know you!”

I don’t even know you. Know you.

He didn’t know himself either at this point.

There was no Colt he used to know. No Colt who laughed at being too emotional. No Colt who didn’t care about what other thought about him. No Colt who never shed a tear.

That Colt was gone. Dead.

This Colt was helpless, in love and needed a hug. This Colt hated this new Colt.

“Stupid feelings!” he slammed his fist into the wooden bed frame breaking it.

He needed to leave. Go far away and never look back. Leave as soon as possible.

~~~~

“Young Kaneko! Hi, come in,” Ellie’s father opened the door and let Colt in. “My daughter is not here, I’m afraid. She’s constanstly out somewhere and I barely see her these days,” he sighed.

“I actually came to you. To say goodbye. I’m leaving the town and I figured I’d tell you,” Colt shrugged gently as he felt Ellie’s dad’s gaze on him.

“Why?”

“Oh you know, nothing is happening here, really. I want to know the world. Leave this shithole, start my life. Ellie’s going to college soon too so it’s not like I have much left here,” he said biting his lower lip. It wasn’t all true. He lost Ellie before she even went to college and ever since Logan appeared, he had nothing left.

“Ellie knows?”

“I’ll tell her. I couldn’t find her.”

“You sure you want to leave? You and Ellie seemed--”

“I’m sure. Won’t change my mind,” Colt cut him off. Ellie’s father nodded and went silent for a moment.

“She’ll miss you,” the old man finally spoke. Colt shook his head.

“I doubt it. She’s going to college soon, she has friends. She’ll be fine.”

“She’ll miss you,” he repeated, “and it’s not certain she’ll go to college this year.”

“What? Why?” Colt asked alarmed. Did something happen?

“I need to pay one last installment but my visit at the hospital cost a half of it. I’m not sure if I’ll manage the get the money before it’s due.” He explained and Colt started thinking. Did Ellie know? She wanted to go to college so bad... She’ll be devastated.

“Think positively,” Colt said, “maybe you’ll have the money. I gotta go now but please, take care of yourself, sir.”

“You too, Kaneko. You too.”

~~~~

His mind was racing.

He hadn’t done it in months but he needed the money. For Ellie. For her college. For her dreams. For her freedom. For her.

He knew it was stupid and Ellie would be mad if she found out he was doing it again. That was why he only told Mona about it. She was against it too but he didn’t care. This was the only way he could help Ellie before he would leave.

“Yo, Kaneko!” A man named Salazar walked up to him with a few of his buddies. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Racing again?”

“Yup,” Colt answered shortly. He hated the guy and he didn’t come here for a small talk. He came here to race and to win the money he needed. And then leave. For good.

“Think you can win? With me?” the man laughed and his friends followed.

What a bunch of morons.

“I always did.”

“Aren’t you afraid you precious litte friend’s father, who’s a cop, will find out you took part in illegal races again?”

“And who’s gonna tell him? You?” Colt laughed and Salazar narrowed his eyes.

“You’re going down,” he said before he left and Colt rolled his eyes. Whatever. I’m here just for the money.

He walked up to his motorcycle and studied it for a second. He wasn’t afraid of losing, he knew he was good and since Ellie was his motivation, he knew he could win this. He smiled at the thought of Ellie but his face fell remembering their last meeting. He was just about to warm up, his little silly routine before every race, when his phone rang.

Mona.

“I’m kinda busy right now, Mona.”

“Ellie was here. Asking about you.”

“What?” he froze. “What was she asking? Why...?”

‘I told her where you are. And what you’re about to do.”

“What?! Mona! How could you, I trusted you!” Colt yelled into the phone.

“She came here and told me her father told her you were leaving. She wanted to know why. I told her it was partly because of her. I might have told her some things from your perspective. She thought you were pretending when you said you loved her, now she knows it wasn’t a lie. I told her you don’t know how to deal with your emotions but you fell for her. She seemed to be shocked.”

“MONA!”

“Listen, Colt. I like you but you need help. She would never know if I hadn’t told her. I spared her the details but long story short, she knows you wanted to be more than friends with her and that’s why you acted like a total ass. And she’s headed there so you’d better win that race asap before she gets there.” Mona kept explaining but Colt stood still, not sure what to think. Ellie knew everything. Shit. He quickly hung up and hopped on his bike. The race was supposed to start soon and he hoped it’s end before Ellie arrived.

It felt almost nice to be back. The adrenaline, the exicitement, it all was back.

The race started and Colt easily managed to draw ahead. He saw Salazar in the corner of his eyes, he was determined to win this time but Colt maneuvered slightly and was first on the finish line. He smirked at the “losers” and went to claim his prize when he saw her.

Ellie was furious.

She noticed him and started yelling something, something he couldn’t understand because one of the motorcycles’ engine was still working. He turned to ask the owner to stop it but saw Salazer driving straight into him, clearly trying to hit him.

“WHAT THE HELL?” Colt yelled when he jumped back dodging the bike. Salazar looked back at him, not even bothering to stop the vehicle. Colt’s angry expression quickly turned into a pure horror on his face when he realized Salazar’s motorcycle was going right into...Ellie.

“Ellie!” he screamed but she was too shocked to move and Salazar seemed to have frozen as well.

“STOP IT!!” Colt yelled running after the bike, praying to somehow make it stop.

“ELLIE!” he cried out but it was too late. She was hit and thrown with a huge force, and landed on the street. Colt felt like he was going to either throw up or kill Salazar. Preferably both.

“Ellie!” he ran up to her and looked in horror at her face, the blood dripping from her head, forming a small puddle which was doubling before his very eyes.

“Ellie, please, stay with me,” he tried to stop the bleeding with his jacket, frantically looking for his phone. Salazar and the rest of the people stood still looking at both of them with their eyes wide opened.

“Can someone call the ambulace?!” Colt lost his patience and started yelling at the crowd. They all only shrugged.

“If we call 911 the police will come as well and we’ll be all arrested. It’s not worth it. It’s better to sacrifice her,” Salazar pointed to Ellie.

“SACRIFICE ELLIE?!” Colt stood up and started walking towards Salazar with hate in his eyes. “How about we sacrifice you and tell the police you wanted to kill her, huh?”

“Dude... not worth it. He’s right,” another man cut in. Colt glared at him and then looked around at the faces of everyone.

“You’re...You’re serious? You’ll let her die because you’re afraid you’d go to jail?” he asked hesitantly. They all nodded. Salazar put a hand on his shoulder but Colt shook it off. “Accidents happen. We’re leaving and so should you,” he said and they all started slowly dispersing.

Colt stood frozen at what he just witnessed. He looked at the men driving away and then at Ellie laying motionless on the road. Then again at the men and at Ellie. And again.

Sacrifice.

Ellie.

Sacrifice.

He closed his eyes and whispered into the night “I’m sorry.”

He looked at her again, as if remembering her features before he spoke again. “911? I’d like to report an accident.”

#ride or die: a bad boy romance #ride or die: bad boy romance #rod #choices #choices rod #colt kaneko #colt x mc #colt kaneko x mc #playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #tw: blood #i was writing it during my break #so it might be messy #and sad #but idk

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inactiveblogxoxo · 6 years ago

Text

whoa i wrote a fic again

crAZY ((sorry i was sick for like two months and then i moved but now im hopefully writing again))

AYWAY: Kiribaku fic

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18345518

what do you mean

Sum: Kirishima thinks Bakugou has a girlfriend. Bakugou just wants Kirishima to act like he usually does. Will they ever understand what they mean to each other? ((yes. They will.))

tags: Bakusquad (My Hero Academia), Movie Nights, Jealous Kirishima Eijirou, Misunderstandings, solved almost immediately, No Angst, straight fluff, Fluff, jirou and bakugou are bffs, im so tired, Not Beta Read, One Shot

full fic in read more

They settled into watching some super old horror. The film was in black and white and from before quirks appeared, but it was bloody and entertaining enough.

Kaminari and Sero sat cuddled up on Sero’s hammock, Ashido rested in a bean bag chair next to the them that she had brought up from her own dorm. Jirou sat on the floor, her back resting against the bean bag. Kirishima and Bakugou shared Sero’s bed, their backs both against the wall and their feet hanging off the side in from of them.

They were twenty minutes into the film and every time Bakugou happened to brush against Kirishima, Kiri would shift further away from him. It was driving Bakugou insane. Kirishima was always throwing an arm around him and pulling him closer, what the fuck did he do? He had been distant all week.

Sunday night he had been tutoring the gaggle of idiots he spends his time with, minus the red head who had been visiting his moms that weekend. Sero and Kaminari left early to binge some anime together, leaving just him and Ashido. Ashido jumped into gossiping, which gathered the attention of Jirou, Hagakure and Uraraka, and soon Bakugou found himself surrounded by them at the once productive table in the common room.

That’s how Kirishima found him when he walked into the dorms with his over night bag over his shoulder.

“Kiri! Welcome back!” Ashido called out to him. Kirishima had smiled and sauntered over.

“Hey, Mina!” He smiled and bent down to hug her. Turning as he stood, he made eye contact with Bakugou and rose an eyebrow at him. “So, what’s going on here?”

“Bakubabe was giving us some hot goss!” Ashido rested her chin in her palm as she smiled.

“I fucking told you not to call me that, raccoon eyes,” Bakugou bristled, his chin tucked to his chest to avoid Kirishima’s gaze.

“And I told you not to call me raccoon eyes, bakulicious.”

“bakulicious” Uraraka snorted under her breath.

Bakugou scoffed and rolled his eyes but said nothing else, he was tired and Kirishima was back. The rest of this night no longer mattered.

“Kiri, how are your moms?” he asked instead, partly out of curiosity, partly to draw the attention away from him.

Kirishima lit up, “oh! They’re great! You should come back with me next time, they asked about you!”

“Oooooo,” Hakagure cooed, “you guys know each other’s parents? Just how close are you?”

Bakugou again rolled his eyes and Kirishima just smiled.

“Wait, have I been so focused on the budding romance of Uraraka and Midoryia-“

“W-What!” Uraraka interrupted with a blush.

“-that I’ve been missing out on the one blossoming right before my eyes?” Ashido continued as if Uraraka said nothing. Bakugou groaned and rested his forehead against the table, figured she would say something completely idiotic.

“Hm, I could see it happening,” Jirou mused. Fuck, he forgot she was there. He lifted his head and found her staring at him with a menacing grin. Fuckkk, he never should have told her anything.

“Right?!” Hakagure gushed, “you guys would be so cute together!”

“Aw, c’mon, guys, stop. We’re just good friends,” Kirishima spoke up for them, hand awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Bakushima… no, wait, Kiribaku… no, wait, maybe-“

“What the fuck are you doing, Ashido?” Bakugou interrupted her musing.

“I’m trying to make a cute couple name for you two!” She grinned, “like dekuraka! For Midoryia and Uraraka!”

That seemed to KO Urauraka, who slammed her hands down on her face and floated away while bright red.

“Don’t fucking bother! That’s dumb as shit,” He grumbled, sinking into his chair. He felt Jirou’s eyes on him still and he hated the feeling.

“C’mon, it’s kind of cute,” Jirou twirled one of her ear jacks with a smirk. “Admit it, Katsuki.”

“I’m gonna kill you, Kyouka,” he snarled. How dare she taunt him. How dare she use his first name to do it.

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna go to bed,” Kirishima coughed awkwardly, gaining all of their attentions.

“Me too,” Bakugou jumped up and followed him towards the elevator.

“Good night, guys!” Kirishima called with a wave. The girls jeered after them and Bakugou flipped them off until the elevator doors closed behind them.

They stood in silence for a while but Bakugou didn’t feel uncomfortable, he was glad to finally have a moment away from the idiotic giggles of Ashido and Hakagure and the knowing stare of Jirou.

“So uh, Kyouka, huh?” Bakugou furrowed his eye brows, what did that mean?

“…What?” He glanced at Kirishima with a blank expression.

“Nothing, I just… Uh, never mind,” Kirishima backtracked and the elevator opened. “Well, good night, dude!” He rushed over to his dorm.

“Hey, Kiri, wait!” But it was too late, Kirishima was already behind the door. Bakugou huffed and jammed his hands in his pockets, trailing his feet to his own dorm.

God damn it, how did he fuck up this time?

Kirishima had avoided him the rest of the week.

Bakugou had purposefully arrived at Sero’s dorm late for their movie night. Ashido, Sero, Kaminari, and Jirou, idiots that they were, had picked up on the tension between the two and had left the only empty space the one next to Kirishima.

It was his usual seat anyway.

But even with the ease of their usual routine, Kirishima was still doing his best to avoid him. He really couldn’t figure it out, he went over everything that happened over and over again in his mind. The teasing had been weird, sure, but he didn’t think it was enough to make Kirishima avoid him. Was he really that sensitive about their relationship? Was he disgusted by the idea of them as a couple? He had tried to stop the girls a couple times, but he hadn’t seemed angry… Awkward, but not so uncomfortable as to cut off their friendship.

He had asked about his trip home and Kirishima had seemed over joyed. He was terrible at faking so he knew it couldn’t have been anything from home that had upset him so much.

So, it was something he did.

Fuck, what did he do? How does he make up for something when he has no idea what went wrong?

He moved his legs to sit criss-cross and when his knee brushed Kirishima’s thigh, the other boy shifted until they were no longer touching.

And that, was the final straw. Bakugou, officially, was losing it.

“Kiri,” he whispered, leaning into Kirishima’s space just so he could be hear over the movie. “What the fuck- uh, I mean… fuck.” He took a deep breath to start again. He had to be calm, he was trying to apologize. “Are you upset with me or something?”

Kirishima started at him, wide eyed with an open jaw. “Wha… What, I mean, why do you say that?”

Bakugou wrung his sweaty hands together in a nervous gesture, “you’re not,” fuck he couldn’t say ‘you’re not trying to cuddle with me during the movie and I’ve tried to initiate it, but you keep pulling away and its making me sad and I don’t know why and I also don’t know why you won’t.’ He couldn’t say ‘you’ve been distant and avoiding me all week and I don’t know why and I’ve missed you.’ He couldn’t say what he was feeling and he couldn’t voice what about Kirishima he missed but damn, he had to say something.

“you’re not acting… like you usually are and I… I feel like I must have done something and I’m…sorry,” the last word he breathed out quieter than the rest. He only wanted Kirishima to hear, it was only for him.

“Oh,” Kiri’s face melted into a soft smile, “it’s fine, Bakugou, it’s me… I’m just, being,” he sighed and shook his head. “I’ll get over it.”

Bakugou grumbled at the answer. He purposefully brushed his leg against Kirishima and Kirishima moved away again.

What was he doing? Clearly Kirishima didn’t want to be near him. He bit his cheek in embarrassment and looked away.

He said it was nothing, he said it was just something he was working through, so then why was he still not acting like normal?

As far as Bakugou could see it, he had three options. 1: Leave this fuckfest of a mental headache and go the fuck to sleep. 2: Ignore Kirishima right back and just watch the movie. 3: Force Kirishima back to normal by taking on his role of the initiator for the night.

He bristled at his options.

He deiced he wasn’t a pussy and tomorrow was Saturday so if it went poorly he could just hide from this gaggle of idiots until it all blew over.

He slummed onto Kirishima’s side. He felt the redhead stiffen but he didn’t push him away. He didn’t look away from the movie and he didn’t move to wrap his arm around him. Usually, the idiot had his arm around Bakugou’s waist and was checking in on him every few minutes. Whispering what he thought about the movie and giving Bakugou a shoulder to sleep on when it got late and Bakugou passed out.

Angry, he gripped Kirishima’s arm and wrapped it around himself. Kirishima stared at him again with panicked eyes but Bakugou only frowned at him.

Kirishima stiffly looked from Bakugou to Jirou and back, “uh, I know that you… but won’t… I mean…” He sighed to steady himself, “Bakugou, if you want to… Then maybe you should sit with Jirou, I don’t mind moving.”

What? “Fucking what?”

“I just mean,” Kirishima bit is lip, “I don’t feel comfortable, like, hanging out the way we used to, now that you have a girlfriend.”

WHAT? Bakugou felt his hands shaking. His palms cackled with excess sweat he couldn’t control.

“Kirishima,” he tightened his grip around the red head’s now hardened arm, “I really need to talk to you. Now.” He pulled at Kirishima’s arm as he stood from the bed, forcing Kirishima to follow behind him as he excited the dorm.

“Hey, where are you guys going?” Kaminari called after them but Jirou and Ashido hushed him.

Bakugou pulled Kirishima down the stairs and pushed his way into the other boy’s dorm. Only once inside did he let go.

Kirishima cast his gaze to the floor and sat down on the edge of his bed. “So, what do you need to talk about?”

Bakugou huffed and sat next to him, “Kirishima, I don’t have a girlfriend. I don’t know why the fuck you think that but I fucking don’t.”

“But,” Kirishima finally met his gaze, confused. “You and Jirou, you guys called each other…”

“Oh,” Bakugou ran a sweaty hand through his hair. That’s what this was about, “she just!” he breathed deep a couple times to calm himself down, he didn’t want to scream all this. “She was just taunting me. She was making fun of me because-“ he cut himself off, embarrassed.

He groaned and fell back against the bed, an arm thrown over his eyes. “Because I told her that I… liked you.”

“You liked me?” He could hear the confusion in the red head’s voice.

“Like, I like you, Kirishima.”

“Oh,” he whispered back then again, a few minutes later, “oh.”

He felt the bed shift and moved his arm to see Kirishima adjusting himself to lean over him. He watched with what he hoped were expressionless eyes, but he still felt his ears get hot.

“You like me,” Kirishima repeated, breath fanning across Bakugou’s face. He felt like if Kirishima had a tail he would be wagging it with the way he was grinning.

“Yes,” Bakugou murmured. His eyes watched Kirishima’s. He licked his lips quickly, suddenly feeling so dry, and watched as Kirishima’s eyes followed the movement.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Kirishima spoke, eyes drifting back up from Bakugou’s lips for a moment.

Bakugou reached up with his hands to grip at Kirishima’s shirt where it hung lose against him. He closed his eyes as he breathed in deeply to calm his nerves. On the outtake of his breath, he adjusted his neck slightly to get more comfortable. He opened his eyes and found Kirishima’ red eyes watching him closely. His smile was replaced with a fond expression Bakugou was embarrassed to find he liked.

Flushing red, he leaned up and brushed his nose against the bottom of Kirishima’s jaw and whispered: “okay.”

Wasting now time, Kirishima turned his head and crashed his lips to his. He kissed hard as if he was trying to convince himself this wasn’t a dream by adding pain to the kiss.

Bakugou didn’t try to soften it, he met Kirishima’s hard kiss with his own. Their teeth smashed together, nose pressed uncomfortably to each other’s faces. They broke apart and rejoined over and over. Bakugou’s hands drifted from where they fisted at Kirishima’s stomach to wrapping around Kirishima’s neck. He used this leverage to pull himself closer, press harder. Kirishima smiled against his lips, pulling away to plant light kisses all around his face. He left one arm to the side of Bakugou’s head to support himself, the other gripped at Bakugou’s hip. Calloused thumb rubbed small circles into his skin, his hand gripped him tight and pulled him ever closer. Their lips found each other’s again. Kirishima opened his mouth and when Bakugou felt his tongue on his lips he broke away.

Panting, he smiled. Tucking his face into Kirishima’s chest.

“You like me too, then?” he asked.

Kirishima laughed and he could feel the vibrations of it all around him, “I do. So, so much.”

#kiribaku #fanfic #my fic #bnha #bakugou #kirishima #jirou #mina ashido #bakushima #fluff #bnha fanfiction

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majestic-singing · 7 years ago

Text

One Lovely Time

Word count: 1,811

Pairing(s): Platonic LAMP/CALM, romantic logicality if that’s how you want to see it

Warning(s): possibly scary ?? (idk kinda doubt it but I'll put it here just in case), swearing, the woman from The Grudge makes an appearance, I think that’s it but tell me if there’s more

Summary:��The four sides are having a horror movie marathon and all the sides, except for Roman, suggest to watch it in Roman’s room (he has the softest bed, it’s like lying on a cloud). Roman tries to tell them otherwise, for some odd reason, but the other’s don’t listen to him. They decide on The Grudge for the first movie they watch. Horror ensues, both in the movie and outside in the real world.

A/N: first time posting a story to Tumblr, so I hope I'm getting this right and it looks fine! I’m still trying to get a hang of this site so bare with me! I haven’t watched The Grudge in a long time so I don't know if the scene I describe is in the first movie or the second movie (if anyone even knows which scene I describe I kinda purposefully made it a little vague). Anyway, constructive criticism is always welcome! Enjoy the story!

None of the sides really ever watch horror movies, honestly. Logan had no fear of them, he knew they weren’t real. Virgil isn’t frightened by them either, but he does complain about the movie genre a lot. Characters in horror movies are as stupid as a pile of logs in most of them. Roman doesn't mind them, but he doesn’t like them either. And Patton... well, it doesn’t take a lot to scare him, honestly.

But one Halloween, Patton insisted they have a horror movie marathon. Why exactly? Honestly, the other three sides had no clue.

And when Patton insists on something, he insists. So, after a few minutes of refusing, the other sides eventually give in after the all too familiar puppy dog eyes are pulled out, and the moral side cheers.

“This is a horrible idea, but at the very least we should watch it some place comfy.” Virgil grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Logan adjusted his glasses. “Yes. I suggest someone’s room, preferably not Virgil’s for obvious reasons. I do not think Patton’s would be the best either.”

“Oh, oh! Why don’t we watch it in Roman’s room? He has the softest bed out of all of us!” Patton suggested, grinning like a big dork. Poor Patton, a daft fool who’s grin won't last two seconds once the movie starts.

Roman had been mostly silent after they all caved in. He honestly didn't really care what they watched or where they watched the movie. Well, that was until now. Not wanting to draw suspicion of any kind, he tried to steer them clear of that idea. “H-Hey, why don't we just watch it in the living room! I mean, the couch is always a comfy place and I feel like it has a very, very good atmosphere for movies, yeah?”

Virgil shook his head. “Nah. If I fall asleep on the couch my back is going to be totally messed up.” Way worse than if he slept on the floor surprisingly. He still has no idea why. “You do have the bigger TV in your room and your bed can fit us much easier than the couch.”

“Virgil does have a point,” Logan said. “I think your room has far more of a comforting aura and I am sure we all can agree that we will need it tonight if we partake in watching these type of films.”

Roman spluttered a little. “Heh- uh, maybe not- I mean, surely-”

“Please, please, please! Roman, please! I’ll make your favorite breakfast in the morning!” Patton begged, looking at Roman with those big brown eyes and pouting lip and-

“Fine!” The royal caved in, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. It wouldn’t be that bad. He just wouldn’t think about the movie, just wouldn't pay attention to the movie. Everything would be a-okay and no harm will come to him or the others. Gosh, he didn't even understand why Patton wants to suffer through a horror mov-

Before Roman knew it they were all cuddled up on his very soft and very comfy bed. A huge bowl of popcorn was between them, easy access for everyone. The movie started, all deciding on watching The Grudge for their first movie. Logan, Virgil, and Roman both knew it will most likely only be one movie before Patton’s shaking and holding back tears. They’ll switch the movie genre from horror to Disney and sooth the scared side to sleep.

At least, that’s what Roman planned how it will end. Hoped that’s how it will end.

Logan is on the far left, followed by Patton, Roman, then Virgil on the end.

Patton’s already clinging onto Logan in the first ten minutes of the movie. Logan is used to Patton’s hugs and such by now, but this?

The nerd looked over to the other two, pleading silently for help. Virgil just smirked and mouthed ‘relax’ before going back to the movie. Roman smiled reassuringly and silently instructed him on how to hold Patton the best.

It was the least he could do, plus it kept his mind off the movie.

As the movie progressed, however, Roman could feel his skin itching nervously. The film was really starting to get to him.

He tried to ignore it, he truly did, but he just couldn’t.

Roman wasn’t quite sure on specifics, but during the scene with the lady and the house phone in her apartment is when things started to go downhill, he thought. Once the gurgling, rattling noise the Grudge makes in the movie sounded through that stupid phone, his blood ran cold.

Patton whimpered softly in Logan’s arms, clinging onto his black polo for dear life.

Since Logan was too busy with Patton, he doesn't notice how Roman stiffened his body up completely and gripped his sleeve so tight his knuckles turned white. His eyes screwed shut tightly, willing the movie away from his mind the best he can.

But Virgil noticed.

The anxious side raised his eyebrows and softly whispered to the Prince, “Princey, dude, what’s wro-”

Just before Virgil could finish his sentence, just before the woman on the screen was killed, everything in Roman’s room went out.

The lamp on the bedside table that Logan insisted they keep on shut off. The fairy lights on the headboard go dark. The TV went static for a second before shutting off as well.

All four sides were plunged into complete darkness.

Patton gripped onto Logan even tighter as he yelped, visibly panicked even without anyone being able to see him. “W-What’s going on?! Why is everything off?”

Logan squinted, trying to see something. “I am not sure,” He decided to say. “However, I am sure everything is alright, Patton.” Logic reached over and felt for the switch to the lamp.

Click.

Nothing.

“Hm. That is odd. The light won't turn on.”

“It won't turn on?!” Oh dear.

“Patton, shh. It will be alright.”

Virgil reached over, resting a hand on Roman’s shoulder. Or was that his arm? Nevertheless, wherever he set his hand, he could feel the other shaking. “Roman? What’s going on? Are you alright?”

The floorboards creaked.

Logan and Patton turn their attention to Roman. They can’t see him, but they can feel the energy he was radiating, not even trying to hide it.

Scared.

There’s something else, but they can't quite pinpoint what. “R-Roman?” Patton murmured softly, pushing his own fear aside for a moment to help his kiddo out.

Roman’s breath was shallow. Hands clasped together, fingers tangled and tight. His shaking grew as the floorboards creaked once again.

“I-I’m sorry... I-I’m so s-sorry-” Roman finally spoke and it sounded like he was about to cry. His voice was shaky and cracking, sounding frightened and... guilty.

The other’s are completely flabbergasted. They don’t understand. They are confused.

“Roman, what are you talking about? Did this... blackout happen because you are frightened?” Logan piped in, voice soothing and soft. Roman doesn't find it soothing. Nothing seemed soothing at this point.

Before anyone has time to speak, a noise sounded and echoed against the bedroom walls.

A sort of gurgling, rattling sound. A sound that all four sides know exactly what it was.

Virgil’s breath caught in his throat. He felt like he was drenched in ice water.

Patton’s never felt so afraid. His whole body froze, his shaking stopping. He couldn’t breath.

Logan felt a sort of dread in his chest that squeezed at his lungs and heart. Goosebumps popped up and littered his skin. Is this what being scared feels like? Is this fear?

It’s obvious the noise isn’t coming from the speakers on the TV. They wished it came from there.

The eerie sound came again, closer this time.

Logan believed he had gone mad. It’s not real. He must have fallen asleep during the movie. This is a dream.

Virgil was on the same boat with Logan of it not being real. This had to be some sick prank. But... Roman would never go that far, would he? To scare them out of their skin like this.

Patton’s shaking. He believed it. He believed the ghost of Kayako Saeki was here in the spirit. Here to take their souls from their body. He’s quietly sobbing.

Roman is silent. He’s still shaking, Virgil can feel it, but he’s silent.

“Princey, I swear... I swear to fucking god, if you’re... if you're fucking with us, I’m going to personally... personally fuck your shit up-” Virgil finally broke the silence. He was holding painfully onto Roman’s arm (or shoulder) now, nails digging straight through his coat and into the skin.

Roman’s arm twitched in discomfort, and he was silent for a few seconds before speaking. His voice was surprisingly steady, compared to how it was the last time he spoke. “I wish this was intentional. I really wish it was. It would be easier to control then.”

Logan could feel something grip the sheets on his left side, the side where the edge of the bed was.

His heart picked up speed quickly, very quickly.

Logical reasoning: it’s his own hand.

But it’s not. Both hands were on Patton. Both hands were holding Patton.

Logical reasoning: it’s Patton’s hands.

Falsehood, both of the moral side’s hands were holding onto the fabric of his shirt on his chest.

Logical reasoning: error. Error. ERROR. E R R O R.

Another hand came down, clapping onto Logan’s thigh. Logan didn’t move, only held onto Patton tighter. Patton could feel hair tickle his cheek. It’s long. He imagined its black. Pitch black.

The gurgling, rattling sound comes again, this time right in the logical’s ear. His teeth are chattering and clattering together without him noticing.

The first hand from before moved and dug and held onto his stomach.

How does one breath? Logan asked himself mentally.

“I’m truly sorry.” Roman spoke again, voice barely above a whisper.

The lights flickered on. The TV stayed off.

...

....

Nothing. Nothing is in the room except the sides. No hands are on Logan. No hair is on Patton.

There was a whimper.

It was Virgil.

“G-Guys...” Virgil’s voice was so quiet. So scared. “I-If she’s... if she’s b-behind me... I accept death...”

Oh, classic Virgil.

The side’s slowly turned to look at the anxious side.

Patton screamed.

Logan’s body went rigid and his eyes rolled back in his head. He fainted.

Roman had no reaction.

There she was, The Grudge. Right behind Virgil and peaking over his shoulder, eyes wide and hair falling over the anxious side’s shoulders, the iconic noise she always resonated sounding loud in everybody’s ears, but mostly in Virgil’s, jaw seeming to be completely unhinged.

No logic can explain this.

No logic was needed when you were in the room of Creativity.

In the room that can make fantasy, a reality.

#virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic

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questionofdarkness · 7 years ago

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[1/3] ♥ hello! may i request a matchup? well, i'm pretty tall - 6'0" to be precise. infp, straight, female. brunette, hazel eyes and a kinda hourglass figure? i'm known as the "soft one" by my friends and generally people say i'm really nice;; i'm the "mum friend" too. i'm said to be a good hugger and i love hugs! i'm also a huge softie and i do my best to be empathetic and understand others! i am very affectionate with those i love and am always willing to help out!

[2/3] ♥ i really like cats, dogs and birds - so so much! i also really love to cheer for people and make sure they’re okay. i do like to talk though. art in love in general, writing too! i like writing more than reading actually. i like to learn new things but i don’t like people that aren’t honest. people who can tell me the truth without hesitation i really like. i don’t particularly like heavy metal music. i really hate horror and scary thing, but for some reason like conspiracy theories?

[3/3] ♥ i love lo-fi hip hop music. also kpop;; gardening, writing and drawing is stuff i really love doing as hobbies! i love rainy days and also cold weather in general. i like snuggling up by a warm person in winter! birds, cats and dogs i love equally! i like being indoors, but also going out and being active. the type of people i prefer are honest and dedicated to their interests. not trouble maker at all really… i play volleyball! i hope that this is alright and i’m not bothering you!

Hello there, anon. Of course you’re not bothering me! I feel flattered that you took the time to write me in the first place! Unlike myself… Yeah, for you as well: sorry. I’ll try and be more coherent with my activity here. So anyway, hope you like the matchup. I really wasn’t sure who to pair you with, I hope it came out alright. (Also: I really got into lo-fi hip hop and chill beats in general recently. It’s not actually my taste, but for studying or writing etc. it’s really nice. Listening to it rn actually)

And I match you with… Mirio Togata!

(is this an appropriate time to note that I always put your guys at the same age as your match when I write this?)

You had been working at the same coffee shop in town for a while now. It was supposed to only be a short term way of getting some money so you could focus on your artistic works without having to worry before really pursuing a career, but you found yourself very content in the cozy building with its big seats and wooden tables and the smell of warm beverages in the air. So you staid and never regretted it. You still had all your life in front of you, if you ever were to change your mind you could always quit.

Some most customers you knew. The shop wasn’t especially popular or big, so it mainly hosted a small number of regulars. Whenever a new face showed up you therefore were automatically intrigued. So when the four of them first showed their face, you paid close attention from the beginning.

They came in a late afternoon. They might have been a family, a glaring man with the children of varying ages, but they all looked way to different from each other. The man was extremely tall, even surpassing your 6’ with ease and green-blond hair. He seemed like a serious guy, business probably, judging by his tie. The oldest of the remaining three might have been something between 20 and 25, blue skin and a gentle smile. The youngest featured a wild bush of green hair and seemed extremely awkward, nestling with his hands and blushing furiously at every glance one of the few customers gave him. And then there was the third one, an also rather tall, muscular dude with blond hair and big eyes and the biggest grin you had ever seen a person wearing. He walked confidently, basically marching towards your counter, his cowlick hair bouncing slightly with every step he took. It was him that ordered, whilst the other three sat down in a corner furthest away from anyone else, and he was beaming like the sun itself, as if ordering two mochas, a black coffee and a green tea was the best thing that had ever happened to him. You were curious and had around three dozens of questions, but you knew better than to ask and instead went on to prepare the order. He complimented the establishment while you were at it, pointing out the nice lighting and location and the orange theme. He talked as if he had been part of your routine for years, always wearing that bright smile of his, and when you passed him the hot cups as well as the slices of chocolate cake he had ordered between two sentences, he tipped you twice the usual amount. You couldn’t help staring at him for the rest of the evening, as he sat next to the green haired kid, lying his arm around his shoulder and punching the air with his fist. Maybe the two of them actually were brothers?

They stayed for a long time, the shop was nearly empty once they got up. You had been cleaning some of the tables around them in order to catch some of the words spoken and figured out it was either his or the younger one’s birthday. Apparently, his name was Lemilion. He even brought the dished back to the counter, thanking you for the food and praising your excellent drinks (although you mainly pressed a button on a machine, but that didn’t seem to bother him very much). He waved goodbye as he left and the room suddenly felt empty without his presence. No wonder you were more than content when his face was the first thing you saw the next day, only minutes after you had opened the shop.

He became you favorite regular quickly, due to his lifelines and polite behavior. You started talking with him, but only small talk, nothing of importance or any depth. Sometimes he brought the shy boy with him, most of the time he came alone. You still had no idea who he was or what he was doing or where the scars on his arms came from, but you were content for now with him being a friendly customer.

It was once he started referring to you by name directly that you thought it was time to learn more about him. When you cautiously called him “Lemilion” for the first time, he seemed awfully surprised. “You knew?” he asked and you shrugged and explained that you had heard them talking the first time. “Oh”, he said and then went back to his smile, “just don’t tell anyone, ok? Also you can call me Mirio.” You didn’t understand what he meant by that.

Until the same evening after closing hours that was, when the idea occurred to you to look up the name, and you nearly fell from your chair when you realized why the four of them had seemed so oddly familiar to you.

The days came and went, as did Mirio. Your talks turned longer and more private, until you made it a habit to actually join him whenever you had the time. He had laughed at the misunderstanding but choose to ignore it other than that. While he didn’t tell you anything about his life as a hero or student, he told you much about literally everything else, from his best friend “Tamaki” to his houseplants and his favorite comedians.

He is a very honest and open guy, but it still came as surprise to you when he blatantly asked you to go on a date with him after he had stayed until the second you had to close the shop.

There are many things to love about Mirio. His cheery, yet goody personality enables him to be excited about basically anything and since he really cares about you that ends up in him being overly eager to learn about your hobbies. You love cats? He’ll go ahead and figure out the address of every single neko-café in town! You enjoy kpop? Well, guess who made an effort to learn all the names of your favorite bands by heart within a week of finding out! You draw? Got yourself a #1 fan with Mirio!

He is so sunny and warm, it sometimes hurts to look at him. But behind the goofball is also someone with strong opinions and a will to improve, so he will give you honest feedback whenever you ask for it. He might not be very good in academic subjects, but he has a trained eye and experience with the most random subjects.

Your favorite pastime with him is during breaks, when rain is gently pouring against the windows of your living room and the world seems quiet and at ease. He’ll snuggle up to you, with a cozy blanket and hot chocolate, and you’ll either quietly listen to the water or talk about this or that. He can be very calm then, his smile becoming much more of a gently open hearth than the burning sun itself.

Both you and he have extremely good friends, your tendency of caring about the people around you a lot and wanting to make everyone happy brings people close to you. You are both curious about the worlds in a warm, maybe sometimes a bit naïve way and love to explore new things together. You also have in common that you are huge softies.

Mirio isn’t an airhead, he’s in fact one of the most thoughtful people you know, but he has a contagiously energetic personality that makes him easy to like. You stand behind his aspiration to become a hero as much as he supports you in your dreams. You make for a wholesome, happy couple.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #matchups #bnha matchups #mha matchups #boku no hero academia matchups #my hero academia matchups #mirio togata #togata mirio #lemilion #anon #askblog #matchups by me

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lhugbereth · 7 years ago

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Acting Strange (ArdyNoct)

ArdyNoct Week // Illusion (Ardyn’s voice is sexy and he knows it) // @ardynoctweek

Noctis falls again and again for the same old tricks. But perhaps he isn't as blind as Ardyn believes him to be...

A fun parody fic to break up the darkness of this week ;D

Read on AO3

3098 words, Mature

They were in the middle of dinner when it happened. The lantern clipped to the awning of the caravan stopped flickering. Ignis stood with his mouth open in a silent reprimand next to Gladio, who was frozen with a cup of noodles half tucked in his shirt. Just out of the door, Prompto’s face was a mask of horror as his camera hung suspended in mid-air, the strap mere inches out of his unmoving reach.

A pickling washed over Noctis, and he bolted to his feet. All around him, time had come to a stand-still. The air rippled with magic, dark magic, and even before he heard the voice, he knew Ardyn was there.

“Long time, no see, pet.” Noct whirled around to see him standing, as if he had always been there, next to one of the plastic lawn chairs. In his hands, a bowl of Ignis’ stew, steaming but untouched. “Miss me?”

“I thought I told you not to do this anymore.”

“Oh, did I interrupt your lovely meal?” Setting the soup on the chair, Ardyn started forward. Smiling, congenial. Not at all the face of a man who likely had a plethora of restraining orders against him. “Is it so wrong of me to see my darling baby prince.”

“Get off,” Noct groaned when bold fingers reached for his face. “You can’t just show up like this. Someone’s going to know….”

He glanced around Ardyn’s shoulder at the frozen forms of his three friends. One of these days, they were going to catch on to this little trick. They would find out all about how Noct had been fucking the Chancellor, sometimes right in front of their very eyes. And that was a path he was desperate not to have to go down.

“Look. Just...not like this anymore,” he tried again, sighing. He didn’t flinch when Ardyn touched him this time, or when the rough stubble of his jaw scratched across his cheek. In fact, it sent a shiver through his body from his head to his toes - a familiar, and forbidden, thrill. “Promise me, Ardyn.”

A sigh. Those warm fingers uncurled from around his chin as the older man pulled away. “Very well. Shall I resume sending you those...oh, what were they called again?” He made a gesture with his hand that had Noct huffing and pushing him away.

“Dick pics, and no. If you value your life, do not ever send me one of those again.”

Ardyn’s lips fell into a pout as he pulled Noct back against him. “You can’t very well expect me to abstain . Not now, after I’ve tasted such sinful pleasures from the Crown Prince himself.” For emphasis, he rubbed the pad of his thumb along the full, pink curve of Noct’s bottom lip, pressed down ever so slightly to draw more color to the surface.

Noct could feel himself blushing all over his body. How could he help it when Ardyn was always so direct, so straight-to-the-point about sex. His compliments - and his voice - could make the prince weak at the knees almost instantly. It was humiliating at the best of times. “Ardyn….”

“Don’t worry, pet. I’ll go.”

Until he can find a new trick, Noct thinks, eyes narrowing. “Like I trust you.”

“Probably better that you don’t.” With a smile and a tip of his hat, Ardyn turned to leave. Noct was still staring after him when the world blipped back into motion, and Prompto’s shriek tore suddenly through the magic-heavy air around the RV.

“ Nooooo, my cameraaaa!”

“Okay, Specs. You and Prom go around, see if you can get a better view from the hill. Gladio and I can make a distraction from the trees if you need an escape route.”

“Very well.”

“You got it, buddy!”

Prompto high-fived him, then took off after Ignis already making for the ridge. That left Noct alone with Gladio. He glanced back at his Shield, nodded once, and then together they headed toward the thick brush at the edge of the woods.

It was tough going. At one point, Noct was aware of Gladio’s footsteps growing softer, slower, as if they were coming from further and further away the longer they moved through the trees. He turned once to call out to him, but at that moment Gladio’s dark hair reappeared above a hedge only a few feet away. Frowning, Noct merely waved his hand and picked up the pace.

From the edge of the woods, the entrance to the Imperial Base was right in plain view. Noct could make out the forms of soldiers and MTs moving between the oversized hangar gates, and even further into the bustling compound itself. With any luck, Ignis and Prompto were already scouting out their next target somewhere deep within.

“Hey, come check this out,” he called to Gladio in a hushed tone as he crouched by the roots of a nearby tree.

A large body suddenly kneeled down beside him, startling close. So close and so suddenly, in fact, that their thighs brushed and Noct nearly toppled over in surprise. He turned to glare at Gladio - what the hell was he playing at at a time like this?! - but found that his Shield’s eyes were already locked on him. Predatory, dangerous.

“Dude? What the f-- Mmm!!”

Out of nowhere, Gladio pounced. Noct was driven back against the tree behind him, hitting with enough force to knock the breath from his lungs right into the other’s demanding mouth. Even as his head spun, Gladio kissed him rougher, harder, until he could see stars in his vision and his chest burned. Actually, despite the suddenness and shock of the act, it wasn’t unlike how he’d imagined kissing Gladio would feel. Wild, exhilarating. Perhaps, in any other situation….

One of those large, calloused hands slid under his ass to grope at soft flesh, and Noctis snapped.

“Enough!” he shouted as he bit down on the tongue that had forced its way into his mouth. Gladio fell away and Noct took the opportunity to scramble up into a more guarded position against the tree, adjusting his clothes as he went. Amber eyes watched him - wounded - under heavy lids.

“Ow- ww …. Alright, perhaps I deserved that,” Gladio said in a very un-Gladio-like voice. “Did I come on too strong?”

Noct’s stomach began an impressive series of somersaults.

“Because I really could have sworn you and the hairy gorilla man were fucking.”

“Ardyn.”

“He certainly seems like your type, after all. Big and loud and barely clothed.”

“ Ardyn.”

“With such a nice cock, too. Oh, I was so sure this would work.”

“ ARDYN GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.”

Those familiar amber eyes twinkled yellow-gold for a split second, and then like that he was gone. Noct glowered after him into nothingness for a long, strained moment, until at last Gladio - the real one - came crashing through the bushes, sword raised.

“What? What is it?” he growled as he took in a quick scan of the prince, the matted grass, the empty space. “I heard yelling.”

“Nothing. Our cover’s been blown.” Without another word, Noct pushed himself off the tree and stalked past his Shield back toward camp.

It wasn’t unusual that Noct was the last to wake up. Especially not on a cloudy, misty morning like the one he stepped out of the tent to see now. What was unusual, however, was the fact that their campsite seemed to be abandoned - all except for Prompto, who stood out on the ridge of a neighboring rock snapping photos of…well, whatever he was snapping photos of. Fog most likely, if Noct had to take a guess.

“Hey, where is everybody?” he called out, taking a moment to stretch his arms up over his head and yawn. Prompto turned and flashed a smile.

“Morning, buddy! Oh, y’know how those two are. Gladio went out for a jog, and Iggy mentioned something about wanting to look for rare mushrooms around here.”

“In this weather?” But Prompto merely shrugged his shoulders and went back to taking pics, so Noctis let it go. Either way, they’d be back before too long. They’d have to, or else they were going to miss their hunt again. None of them wanted to spend yet another day trudging through the marshes of the Vesperpool only to come up empty-handed again.

In the meantime, though, he could at least enjoy a morning of peace and rela --

“Noct! Hey, Noct!!”

Sigh. Prompto was waving at him excitedly from out of the thickening mist. “I think I just spotted a black chocobo! Come on, before he gets away!”

“Dude, Prom, can’t we just -- ?” But the gunslinger was already moving, hopping down from the rocks and scuttling off alone into the wilderness of the Versperpool. Noct let out another sigh. As unlikely as it was that Prompto had actually seen anything other than a shadow out there, he was likely to get himself eaten by something worse. Without the other two around, rescuing him was a job for a prince.

“Prom, hey! Wait up!”

His friend had taken off at breakneck speed, it seemed. There was already no sign of him in the thick mist, and within moments Noct, too, was beginning to lose track of directions. Was camp behind him, or to the left? And dammit, where the hell was the sun?

“Proooom! Prompto, can you hear me?” His voice rang out in the emptiness, and he whirled around trying to catch some kind of answer. There was nothing at first, and then, suddenly —

“...ct! Noct! Help!”

Shit! Thinking whatever it was Prompto had seen in the fog had finally caught up with him, Noct took off running toward the source of his friend’s cry. His fingers twitched at his side as he went, ready to pull his sword from the armiger at the first sign of trouble.

“Prom, where are you?”

“Over here, Noct, hurry!”

The mist began to clear in front of him. The ground there was wet, muddy, devoid of the usual rocks and broken ruins that littered most of the area. Noctis noticed there were large tracks, too - footprints from some kind of beast - and places where the mud was scattered, dug up. Signs of a struggle. And then, just as Noct started to call out again for Prompto, he saw him.

His yellow hair was matted in places with something dark - dirt or blood? - and he was hugging one knee to his chest, rocking back and forth as if in pain. The moment Noct approached, blue eyes flickered up to him, wide, scared.

“Noct! It came out of nowhere and —!”

“Are you okay? Let me see.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine, just….”

“Prom, show me.” Noct got down onto his knees at Prompto’s side, batted his hand away from his ankle where the flesh was red and swollen. He pressed his fingers to it, and heard Prompto hiss with pain. “Looks sprained. Come on, we gotta get you back to camp and wait for Iggy.”

“I’m sorry,” came the soft sigh as Noct helped his friend stand. One arm around his waist, they took several hobbling steps back in the direction they’d come from.

“What are you sorry for?” A grunt, and Noct shifted Prompto closer for a better hold. Somehow, he felt heavier than he remembered. “Not your fault some stupid monster decided you’d make a good snack.”

Prompto laughed weakly. “It is my fault, though. I shouldn’t have run off. I’m always messing everything up….”

“Dude, it’s fine. You’ve learned your lesson now, right?”

“Yeah.” There was a quiet sniff. Prompto reached up to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand - but when he finished, he replaced it not at his own side, but around Noct’s shoulders instead. “You’re always so nice to me. Noct, I….”

Uh, oh. He tried to ignore the blue eyes searching his face, the fingers playing with the collar of his shirt, or the way Prompto’s body leaned into him with every step. It was difficult.

“Noct? Can...can I kiss you?”

“W-what?!”

“You saved me, like a real prince. I just wanna… like the stories…. please?”

Noctis swallowed. Stopped moving for a moment so he could turn to look at his best friend. For a long time, he’d suspected Prompto had...feelings for him, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t somewhat mutual. But...so suddenly…?!

“U-um. Okay, I guess….”

He expected a peck on the cheek, or at most an awkward brush of lips against his. But no sooner had the words left his mouth than Prompto was kissing him - really kissing him, with tongue and teeth and soft moans spilling into the air. Familiar, delicate fingers twined in his hair and pulled him closer, Prompto pressed up against his chest and, as though his injury was already miraculously healed, walked him backwards until he was pinned between his best friend and a tree.

“ Mm-mm! Prom, woah! S-slow down! Your ankle —“

“I love you, Noct. I need you so bad, it hurts.”

“D-dude?!”

“Fuck me, please! I’ll do anything!”

“Prompto?!”

The blonde dropped to his knees, looked up at Noct with his blue eyes so full of need, and kissed a heated line across the front of his pants. Noct was frozen - caught between wanting to stop this and never wanting it to end. Yet there was also a nagging sensation in the back of his mind that kept him from moving in either direction. Something that warned him Prompto was acting strange, not like himself at all. And his ankle….

Noct’s heart sank as realization dawned on him.

“Prom?” he asked, trying to steady his voice. “Where’s your camera?”

“...My what?”

“...Fuck.” With a well aimed kick, Noct sent Ardyn tumbling back into the mud. Dark laughter bubbled up from a mouth that looked so convincingly innocent, and then blue eyes were watching him from the ground.

“You’re good at this game, pet. I honestly thought I had you this time.”

Not bothering to reply, Noct turned on his heel and stormed off into the mist. Taking his inappropriate erection, and the sound of Ardyn’s voice, all the way back to camp.

It had been years since they’d done this. The last time Noct could remember going stargazing with Iggy, he was only eleven and they’d watched the sky from the roof of the Citadel.

But out here, away from the city lights and pollution, the stars twinkled like a million points of magic. There were so many, more than he could count in a single lifetime. It made him feel small, but also so, so full of life.

“Hey, Specs,” he smiled, glancing over at his advisor and longest friend in the seat beside him. “You remember all the names of the constellations?”

“Of course I do.” Green eyes flashed in a playful light as, adjusting his glasses, he leaned back against the headrest and began to scan the sky. “That one, if you recall, is the Hunter. Can you find his bow?”

Noct leaned closer, followed Ignis’ finger to a group of stars low near the horizon. “Umm, no. Remind me?”

With a knowing smirk, Iggy curled his fingers around Noct’s wrist and guided his hand up to the correct spot. If he noticed the way the prince’s pulse quickened under his touch, he didn’t mention it. “There, just above the right wing of the Tyrant. Can you make it out?”

“Mmm.”

“And there,” Ignis continued, voice dropping ever so subtly as he drew Noct’s closer to his chest. “Is Fang, father of the dragons. His tail leads all the way to — “

“To the Meteor. Yeah, that was my favorite story as a kid.”

Ignis turned his head to favor him with a smile. “So it was. Glad to see you remember some of your studies, at least.”

“Only the important stuff.”

“Indeed.”

Noct was glad for the light of the moon. It illuminated the blush that colored Ignis’ cheeks, and the pale length of both of their fingers as they twined together. Their eyes met in the space between them. Noct could almost feel Iggy’s heart beating, smiled and closed the distance before either of them could say anything stupid and ruin the moment.

Against his lips, Ignis’ breath was warm, familiar. Came in short, shallow puffs that urged Noct closer, drew him right into his lap in the backseat of the Regalia as their mouths locked tight. Beneath him, Ignis let out a low moan that Noctis felt in his own chest, and twisted his fingers around fistfuls of black hair.

“Mmm, that’s it,” the prince purred into the kiss. “You always know right where to touch.”

“Yes.” Green eyes darkened ever so slightly with deepening lust. “It’s been so long, Noct….”

“I know.” A soft kiss, tender to the corner of Iggy’s pretty mouth. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Ahh. Are you...certain it’s safe to…?”

“No one’s gonna catch us. I promise.” Noct’s lips trailed lower, across a smooth cheek, down to that razor-sharp jaw, leaving wet kisses in his wake. “Please, don’t stop, Ardyn.”

The hands on his lower back froze The body beneath him went deathly still. “....What did you say?”

“I told you not to stop.” Noct pulled back just enough to stare down into emerald eyes half-hidden by dark frames, and smirked. “Unless you’ve changed your mind…?”

Between them, a shadow passed as quick as the blink of an eye. Gone was the clean-shaven, bespectacled face of his advisor - in its place, the rough, crooked smile and yellow-gold gaze of the Chancellor of Niflheim. “Alright, pet. You win.”

“And you’re busted.”

“I did try so hard this time,” Ardyn sighed. “Humor me a moment. What was it that gave me away? Did I miss one of the stars?”

Noct shrugged and, to the older man’s surprise, settled down deeper into his lap. “Not like I’d know if you did. Honestly, it was just a lucky guess.”

If Ardyn’s eyebrows could have raised any higher, they would have disappeared into his hairline. “Quite the risk you took, I imagine.”

“Worth the reward.” He guided Ardyn’s hands back around his waist, smiled as he brushed his lips over that stubble-covered chin. “If you’re still in the mood to fuck me, that is.”

A gasp as Ardyn surged forward, tugging Noct’s ass down flush against his hips even as he raised him off the seat. When he grinned, Noct grinned with him.

“Pet, I can think of nothing I desire more.”

#ardynoct #ardynoctweek #ffxv #ardyn #noctis #myfic #his smirk in this gif is everything

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annzybwrites · 5 years ago

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Truth or Dare: Coming Out Edition (Chapter 6: Relaxing Time)

Read on AO3 | Donate to my Ko-Fi if you like | Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6

A South Park Fanfiction ft. Creek, Style, and Bunny

Thankfully, all of the drama seemed to have ended after Stan came back. The rest of the night was spent yelling at video games, screaming at horror movies, and laughing at the dumb presents everyone brought to the White Elephant (Stan’s dad had made him bring a big jar of weed - he slipped a twenty dollar bill in as the real present).

Eventually, 1am rolled around, and most of the boys wanted to go to sleep. But of course, excitement caused them to put in just one more movie before officially retiring to the guest beds.

Tweek and Craig didn’t mind. Since everyone was sleepy anyway, they could cuddle in their recliner without anyone bothering them too much.

“Mm,” Tweek hummed, nuzzling further against Craig’s chest. They were laying back a bit, Tweek curled up on the side with his top arm around Craig’s waist, his hair gently being played with by Craig’s steady hand. While he was ready to fall asleep, his brain was still buzzing with the earlier excitement. He’d been so excited to learn that Kenny and Butters were together - they were so cute and happy! But it sucked that they needed to keep it a secret, since that meant all of the attention would still be on him and Craig as the only out gay couple in the school. Still, he supposed it was nice not to be so alone anymore.

“Honey,” Craig whispered, brushing Tweek’s hair back so he could look up at him.

“Yeah?” Tweek took the opportunity to sit up and stretch his neck out. Cuddling was nice, but you ended up in weird positions.

“Look.” Craig helped Tweek turn so his back was laying on Craig’s chest before he gestured over to the side. When Tweek looked over, he saw Kyle sitting on the couch with Stan’s head on his shoulder, their hands clasped together. “Whatever you said to Stan,” Craig whispered, “must have really helped him out.”

Tweek smiled bright, turning onto his side again to grin up at Craig. “I’m capable of more than I think, right?”

Craig snorted and shook his head, unable to stop a grin from taking over his own face. “Shut up, babe.”

Tweek snickered and went back to laying on top of his boyfriend, closing his eyes.

However, it seemed Craig wasn’t done yet. “Hey,” he whispered, running his fingers through Tweek’s hair again. “Do you… wanna hear about when I fell in love with you?”

Tweek snapped his eyes open, pushing himself up to stare right into his eyes. “What? You, you wanna tell me? Now!?”

“Yeah.” Craig had a small, relaxed smile on his face. It made Tweek’s mouth run dry. “It’s short anyway. The gist of it is… I’ve liked you ever since we had that fight in third grade.”

“What!?” Tweek’s jaw dropped. “You mean that fight that Cartman and them set up??”

Craig nodded in response, gently pushing Tweek’s jaw back up.

“But…!” Tweek felt his head spinning. “But that doesn’t make any sense! You were so insistent you weren’t gay when everyone thought we were together!”

“Well, yeah,” Craig frowned a bit as he remembered it. “Because I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself yet. Plus, it kinda sucked having everyone pair me with my crush before I could even say anything to you.”

Tweek felt like his face was on fire. He buried his face against Craig’s shoulder, stammering, “I c-can’t believe you’ve liked me for that long!!”

“Why not, babe?” Craig asked, kissing the top of his head. “Why wouldn’t I fall for someone who can beat me up?”

Tweek snorted and looked up at him with a raised brow. “Is this your way of telling me you’re a masochist?”

“Maybe.”

“Craig!” Tweek smacked his shoulder, laughing as he shook his head.

“Hey, guys,” Kenny called out, snickering from the beanbag he and Butters were curled up on. “We can hear everything you’re saying.”

“You’re lucky Clyde’s unconscious right now,” Butters added.

“That’s why I started talking about this in the first place,” Craig revealed. “That’s what he gets for trying to embarrass me all night.”

“Ah, so you’re a sado-masochist,” Kenny joked, winking at him. “I can relate.”

“Ken!” Butters covered Kenny’s mouth with a pout. “Shush!”

“Craig, I think your whole crew is out,” Stan pointed out. Timmy was slumped over in his chair, Jimmy was lying on the floor, and Token was napping peacefully on his beanbag.

Craig groaned and moved the legrest of the recliner back down. “The rest of them are fine, but I should put Timmy to bed before he falls. Stan, help me.”

~~~~~

Rewind - when they started their last movie for the night.

“Ugh,” Kyle groaned, rubbing at his face before pulling at the bottoms of his eyes. “It’s getting really hard to stay awake.”

“Yeah,” Stan agreed, yawning. He let his head fall back on the couch then, groaning quietly. “We could just sneak off to bed.”

“Nah, dude,” Kyle shook his head. “They’ll draw dicks on our faces for sure.”

“I hate that you’re right about that.” Stan sighed, forcing himself to lift his head and watch the movie. He didn’t even know what was going on. He was more distracted by this sudden need to talk to Kyle about… well, them . It was like his brain just decided to say “Hey, you should tell your best friend that you probably, definitely like him or whatever.” And now his heart was speeding up as if he was actually going to, and now his mouth was opening and starting with, “Hey… Kyle?”

“Yeah, Stan?” He turned to look at him, his eyelids drooping.

Stan smiled a little bit. Kyle was always super cute when he was sleepy. Damn it, this was not helping. “I, um… I feel like I should…” He swallowed, starting over. “Remember earlier, when you asked when I figured out I wasn’t straight?”

Kyle felt much more awake now. “Yeah?”

“Well,” Stan’s mouth was dry, his heart one word away from stopping completely. But he still wanted to say it. “I figured it out in… in sixth grade. During…”

“During?” Kyle prompted, placing his hand over Stan’s for encouragement.

Unfortunately, that just made him more nervous. He took a breath, whispering, “During one of our sleepovers.”

Kyle was certain his heart did a loop-de-loop in his chest. Was Stan saying what he thought he was saying? Was this really happening?

“I, I’m sorry if that makes you feel weird,” Stan mumbled, gently tugging his hand away to hug his legs to his chest instead. He stared down at the ground, fear plain in his eyes. “Maybe I shouldn't have even brought it up, but I… I want you to know that I really like you, Kyle. You really are one of the best things in my life, so I don’t really care if we date or just stay best friends forever - it’s, it’s up to you. I’m just… tired of being scared of my feelings.”

“Stan,” Kyle whispered, frozen to his seat. Half of him wanted to simply push Stan down into the couch and kiss him senseless. The rational part of him urged him to actually talk it out and go slow, since that’s probably what Stan needed more than anything right now. “You know, that’s how I found out I wasn’t straight, either.”

Stan didn’t process those words right away, and Kyle could see his eyes light up when he finally did. He turned to look at him, mouth slightly agape. “R, really?”

Kyle nodded, scooting closer. Their knees touched, and neither of them moved away. “Really. Stan, I… I’ve liked you for a long time. It’s just, you were always with Wendy, or -”

“Please don’t talk about her right now,” Stan interrupted, reaching for Kyle’s hand again. He squeezed it tight, smiling down at their joined hands. “I just want to enjoy this.”

Kyle wondered if his heart really was as loud as a war drum, or if he was just really tired. He squeezed Stan’s hand back, swallowing down some of his nerves. “So… what should we do now?”

Stan flinched, ducking his head down. “I… I want to try this,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along the back of Kyle’s hand. “But… can we keep it a secret for now? I don’t really want the whole school asking me all these questions.”

Kyle clenched his teeth, glancing away. This was something else he’d been dreading - having to keep a relationship secret. He wished he could say he’s secure enough to be a secret boyfriend, but a little part of him would always wonder if Stan didn’t want to tell anyone about them because he wasn’t serious. “Stan, I don’t want to force you to come out until you’re ready, but… I’m not sure how I’ll feel about keeping a relationship a secret.”

“Not, not a complete secret,” Stan tried to backpeddle, his voice rising slightly in pitch. “Like, I don’t care if these guys know,” he gestured around the room. “And I should probably tell Wendy, but… I don’t… want my family -“

“Oh,” Kyle interrupted, reaching up to wipe at Stan’s eyes. “No, no, that makes sense.”

Stan sniffled, closing his eyes. “Ugh… I’m sorry -“

“No, it’s fine -“

“I’m such a mess.”

“It’s fine!”

“It’s not fine for you.” Stan wiped at his eyes. “You’re right, I…” he trailed off, a new thought entering his head. He dropped his hand and stared into Kyle’s eyes. “Do your parents know about you?”

“Uh.” Kyle’s eyes shifted away, a sheepish smile stretching across his face. “My mom… found a magazine.”

Stan snorted and covered his mouth, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, shut up!”

“Sorry, just…” he grinned, teasing, “a magazine? Really? That’s so old school.”

“It was one of Kenny’s, okay!?” Kyle groaned and covered his face. “What, like you’ve never… you know!”

“Yeah, with the internet,” Stan snickered, pushing at Kyle’s shoulder. “You know, in an incognito browser?”

“I didn’t want to risk getting a virus!”

“Just don’t download anything and you’re fine.”

“Gee, thanks for the tip now.”

Stan went back to laughing quietly, hunching over and resting his head on Kyle’s shoulder as he tried to breathe. “Okay okay, I’ll stop teasing.”

Kyle huffed, digging his fingers into the couch cushions since he couldn’t cross his arms with Stan so close. He waited a few moments before muttering, “I… I want to try, too, then. We’ll just tell our friends, and my mom.”

Stan’s whole body went rigid. He looked up at Kyle in another panic. “Your mom will definitely tell my mom, and as much as I love her she’ll probably let it slip to my fucking dad, and -”

“Stan,” Kyle cupped his cheek, urging him to take a breath. “My mom won’t tell anyone, especially if I stress how important it is to you. She’s gotten calmer - something about aging I guess.”

“I don’t know,” Stan mumbled, looking down at the floor. “What… what does your dad even think?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“Seriously??” Stan’s eyes widened. “Your mom hasn’t told him?”

Kyle opened his mouth, closed it, and started again. “Well… if she did, he hasn’t asked me about it.”

“This is unbelievable.” Stan pushed his hairline back, staring into the space between them. “Are you sure it’s your mom and not an alien?”

Kyle rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“What evidence do you have?”

“Dude, shut up.” Kyle laughed and gently elbowed him, relaxing back against the couch. “Um,” he swallowed nervously, mumbling, “Can I ask about you and Butters?”

“Why?” Stan looked away, his hands clenching around his pantlegs. “It didn’t… we were just - testing something, I guess? It was one kiss.”

“I figured that.” Kyle brought one of his legs up, crossing it in front of him. “But like… when?”

“Oh.” Stan swallowed, rubbing his hands back and forth against his knees. “Uh… last year. Like, right before he started dating Suzette.”

“No kidding?” Kyle turned to him with round eyes. “That’s, like… when I kissed Kenny. Also a test, by the way.”

“Thank God.” Stan let his head fall back against the couch, closing his eyes. He was pretty much done for the night, yet he was muttering jealous words before he could stop himself: “Was he a good kisser?”

Kyle raised a brow at him, crossing his arms. “Was Butters?”

Stan winced and turned his head away. “Touche. Sorry.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. Maybe it was the fact that he needed to go to sleep, but he found himself throwing Stan a bone. “I pretended Kenny was you, so I don’t even know for sure.”

“What?” Stan looked over at him in awe. “That’s… that’s what I did with Butters!”

“Are you for real??” Kyle felt his heart skip a beat. He covered his face, groaning, “God, could we be any lamer?”

Stan grinned, his heart turning warmer at the sight of Kyle’s ears turning pink. Feeling brave, he scooted closer and laid his head on Kyle’s shoulder. “Well… let’s not be lame anymore.” He reached up, gently tugging Kyle’s hand down from his face and squeezing it, intertwining their fingers.

Kyle let out a noise somewhere between a squeak and a nervous chuckle, feeling mortified right after. “Oh, y-yeah??”

“Yeah.” Stan closed his eyes again, sighing softly. The sounds of the movie took center stage in his ears for awhile, accompanied by his strong, loud heartbeat. If his eyes didn’t hurt from exhaustion, he would have sworn this was a dream.

“Stan?” Kyle whispered. “One more thing.”

“Hm?” Stan hummed, not moving an inch.

“Just… about you, er, your gender?” Stan tensed up, and not even Kyle squeezing his hand gently could calm him. “No matter what, I’ll like you. Okay?”

“Th…” Stan still felt tense. He swallowed a lump in his throat. “I appreciate that.” And he really did - it wasn’t Kyle’s fault that this topic made him feel sick. He’d worried so much about his crush on Kyle that his gender issues took a backseat. Which meant he’d probably have to deal with those issues next. Great.

His eyes snapped open when he felt a kiss pressed to the top of his head. He moved slightly, looking up at Kyle, who just gave him a sheepish smile. “You don’t have to figure anything out right now - I just wanted to let you know it… doesn’t bother me?”

“I…” Stan swallowed, shyness flipping his stomach over and making him lay his head back down against Kyle. He was right. He didn’t have to think or worry about anything right now. He should just focus on how warm Kyle’s hand was, and how he was finally as close with his best friend as he wanted. That’s all that mattered right now; he could figure out the rest later.

“Thanks, Kyle.”

#south park #sp creek #sp style #sp bunny #sp fanfiction #south park fanfiction #ToD:COE #annzy writes

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avengeher · 7 years ago

Text

Brave Little One. Part 3. (Rogers/Reader).

Summary: The one where Captain America refuses to sign the accords and the ink of your signature was practically already drying on the page.

Pairing: Steve/Reader (female pronouns)

Words: 1800+

A/N: I am so nervous about this one because I don’t know if I like it ahhhhhhhhhhh but anyway, here we go! Thanks for reading xxxx

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Natasha picked up on your fifth call; you and Steve standing in the street not far from where you saw her, thankfully, chatting with a man from the summit.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you yeah me, I thought you were dead.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yes love, I’m fine. I got lucky.” You watched her look around, glancing for where you and Steve stood incognito. “I know how much Barnes means to you.” She wasn’t talking to you now, she was talking to the eavesdropping Steve who could hear her clearly with his stupid serum enhancements. “I really do, but stay home or you’ll make this worse for all of us, please.”

“Are you saying you’ll arrest me?”

“No but someone will if you interfere. That’s how it works now.”

“If he’s this far gone Nat, I should be the one to bring him in.” He tried. She sighed.

“Why?”

“Because I’m the least likely to die trying.” Your heart skipped a beat at that thought. He stopped the call, tossing your phone in the trash - rude but okay - as he connected hands with you. You went to reenter the cafe where Sam was waiting for the both of you but instead were pulled into a tight hug, and you completely melted into him.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s all been moving so quickly, we haven’t had a moment just by ourselves.” He pulled back, brushing a piece of hair from your face as he gave you that broken grin of his. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Scared as shit, but I’m okay.” You kissed him quickly, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just needed a moment with you to breath.” Your heart shuttered in your chest. You had to tell him, right now. If you didn’t, it would all just blow up in your face so you had to tell him right now. You opened your mouth, ready to watch your relationship fall to pieces but Sam caught his eye over your shoulder as he inclined his head to a waiting Sharon Carter. Fuck.

Sharon didn’t explain exactly how she got the information, just slid a folder in front of you with a single statement: “you’re gonna have to hurry, we have orders to shoot on sight.”

You had been searching for the Winter Soldier for a year, there was no way you were going to let Steve go by himself and potentially lose his best friend because you weren’t there to help. At least that’s what you told yourself. Truth was, you knew your deception could only last so long because he was about to be a fugitive of the state and you wholeheartedly agreed with the accords. You had let it go on too long as it was, especially because he thought you were in this together as always. You just had to be positive the accords were what you wanted, more than you wanted Steve because unfortunately, this time you couldn’t have both.

Sam took the high ground, perched on top of the building for a ‘bird’s eye view’ as he liked to put it while you stood on rooftop near the back of the building. You looked for all the world like a graffiti artist, no weapons in sight because you, well, were the weapon. It really helped the whole incognito thing. So far so good, nothing but a slight crackle from Steve’s mic to let you know he was in the same room as Bucky now and your heart sang for him. He had lost his other person, the only one who remembered the Steve before the serum and before the ice, and aliens, and robots. Now he was finding a version of his old friend who was still the same age as him.

“Heads up, Cap. German Special Forces, approaching from the south.” You turned your attention that way, watching as they fanned out to begin their search. Shit. “They've set the perimeter.” Steve was still radio silent. “They're entering the building!”

“Geez Steve,” You mumbled to yourself, “at least acknowledge us somehow.”

“They're on the roof. I'm compromised.” Steve’s comm crackled to life as you tried your best to continue to be nonchalant, even as the fighting started in your ears from Sam’s side. “Five,” Sam breathed, “Three, breach, breach, breach!”

Then it was on, grenades crashing through windows and the sounds of explosions but you didn’t dare interfere. If you were to go in there now, you’d be a liability. Steve would focus on you rather then the current objective and that wouldn’t help anyone.

“Baby, he’s headed your way!” You jumped, hearing Steve speak to you directly. Next thing you knew a black bag was landing to your left and a full, grown ass man was hurtling out the window and rolling onto the ledge.

“What the actual fuck, you’re just as reckless as Steve!” You admonished. Bucky met your eyes, recognizing you for a moment as he skid to a stop.

“You’re his girl.” He stated. Before you could respond, a man in a literal, honest to goodness cat suit went flying over the ledge and headed straight for Bucky who took off at lightning speed.

“Steve, we got an unidentified man in a freaking cat suit with little ears and everything, I’m not kidding!” You followed in pursuit, thankful that element control meant you could control the wind enough to make you levitate over the ground and ‘fly’ because these guys were quick and you’d been skipping leg day.

“Sam, southwest rooftop!”

“On my way, who’s the other guy?”

“Bout to find out!” You clocked Steve landing behind you, easily covering the distance as the cat-man and Bucky begin to fight. The shadow of a helicopter flew overheard, raining down bullets and you form a wall of rock to keep them from hitting. One slips through, bouncing off cat dude like it was nothing but giving Bucky enough time to escape claws of doom.

“Sam!” You call out, dropping your shield and joining Steve in pursuit of them once more. “Helicopter. Please.”

“Got it!” He sets the chopper off course, giving you enough time to get out of the way before they started firing again. What in the actual fuck was going on right now.

“Steve are they headed for the -.”

“Freeway? Yeah.” You groaned, landing from your hover as you both began to jump over cars and bringing a whole new meaning to parkour.

“Cover me.” He got your gist, grabbing your arm and propelling you a few cars up as he deterred the others from hitting you. You ripped the door open, smiling softly at the shocked male cop chasing down the rogue Bucky. “Sorry about this.”

You tossed him out, Steve grasping his arm and depositing him safely - minus a few bumps and bruises - before hopping into the passenger seat as Steve took the drivers.

“Okay, I have to tell you something right now because I am 100% afraid we are going to get murdered by psycho Hello Kitty and rogue cops.” You yelled, grasping onto the handle above the door as Steve took curves at mock 40. You glanced over at him, receiving a nod of approval and you shut your eyes tightly, begging yourself not to cry because you were literally in the middle of a fight.

“I’m going to sign the accords.” He slammed on the brakes, narrowly dodging a police car as he slid through a small gap all while looking at you in utter shock. “It’s the right thing to do Steve and you would agree if it weren’t for Bucky.”

“Are you kidding me?” Steve yelled, and you shied away. Steve never yelled at you. “What, a man’s life doesn’t matter to you? The fact that this is just an easy way for governments to have access to an elite team of enhanced humans and aliens alike to do their bidding doesn’t bother you? Bad guys won’t just go away because we do.”

“But we hurt people Steve, civilian people who don’t deserve it!”

“And how many do we save in the process? We’re not perfect. I’m not saying we’re remotely close but for fuck’s sake,” He exclaimed, eyes tearing up as he looked at you. “I’m doing this for more than Bucky, but you? You’re doing it to assuage your guilt in some misguided notion that you can atone for something you didn’t mean to do, and put any future mistakes onto someone else while ignoring taking responsibility for what you’ve already done.”

Your mouth dropped open, eyes wide as he dared to say you were trying to blame other people for what your abilities did. Were you guilty? Yeah, you’d fucked up long before you met Steve and continued to do so now but were you trying to blame someone else for it? No, because you could never do that - not when you knew how bad it hurt to carry it on your shoulders.

He didn’t flinch though, eyes unwavering on the road in front of him because even if he did feel bad for that last remark, he couldn’t take back anything else he said. He believed every word he uttered to you. A thud hit the back of your car, cat-man at it again as he clung on for dear life.

“Sam,” Steve cleared his throat to rid the anger, “I can’t shake this guy.”

“Right behind you.”

Sam swooped in, grabbing the man up but you watched in horror as he climbed Sam like a tree. Rubble started to fall around you and Steve grabbed your hand with one of his. You met his gaze slowly, fear in your eyes as you wondered how much hatred you’d see there.

“When I say jump, you jump.”

He might be on the opposing side of this now but you still trusted him more than anyone, as hurt by his words as you were. He wouldn’t let anything kill you though, so you steeled yourself for whatever he was about to do. Rubble had fallen in front of the exit, beginning to block it but Steve wasn’t slowly down and your palms started to sweat. He was going to hit it head on. The tip of the hood smacked into the rock, right as he yelled for you to jump. You both went out the driver’s side door, him lifting you over the rock as you used a gust of wind to propel you both out.

He kept running but you turned on your heel, hands out in front of you to catch falling rocks that could easily kill people if they were hit. The sirens blaring behind you told you the running was over for now, that you were about the have to surrender so you lowered the granite and turned to face the music. The cat-man’s mask was off and you recognized him as the man Nat was talking with earlier as Steve stood to Bucky's side and Rhodey pointed hand rays at both sides.

“Walk over here slowly, no funny movements.” Rhodey commanded you and you rolled your eyes as a chest ray trained on your shirt. “I mean it.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Steve sighed, giving you the most heartbroken look you had ever seen in your life, “She’s on your side.”

Brave Little One story Tags: @curlycals

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amethystshipper · 7 years ago

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Teen Wolf AU after 3B, where Stiles gets lost in spiral of shame and guilt and keeps himself away from the pack. And then a powerful benevolent being (fairy, Greek goddess, unicorn, whatever) gets pulled to BH because of all the loss that surrounds the place. (If the Nemeton is attracting supernatural beings, statistically some of them are good, right? Right.)

So the pack is together at the loft, let's say. There's Scott, Isaac, Kira, Lydia, Derek, Peter and a reluctant Stiles who is trying to not touch anyone and be as small as possible. All of a sudden, this being appears in the middle of the loft. The wolves shift and growl, Kira grabs her katana, and Lydia and Stiles jump up, tense. Anyway, the being turns to Stiles, who emits by far the most negative vibes, and tells him that they cannot erase what happened, but because he and the pack already sacrificed so much, they can bring back the people who were taken away before their time. They raise their hands and fade away, and suddenly people being to appear out of thin air, some taking longer than others. Allison appears straight away, with Boyd and Erica not far behind. And then, in the back, Laura begins to take form. When nothing else happens, Stiles and Derek are crushed, realizing that their lost family members were probably meant to die when they did. But Erica and Boyd rush towards Isaac and Derek, and Allison flies to Lydia and Stiles, hugging them tight and whispering over and over 'you're alive, we're all alive'. Stiles freezes, but slowly raises his arms and hugs the girls tight to him, the guilt and sorrow slowly fleeing his body. And then Laura, flashing golden eyes, jumps in Derek's arms, squeezing the life out him, not that he's complaining too much while he's holding her tight and trying to be gentle at the same time, so that nothing happens to her ever again. There's sobbing and laughter everywhere, people embracing each other, but everything screeches to a halt when Laura lifts her head off Derek's shoulder and looks at Peter. Peter, who's frozen on the spiral stairs, looking happy and crushed at the same time, wanting to get to his niece and to flee at the same time. Laura lets go of Derek with a soft 'Peter!' and makes her way to her uncle. Everyone stops and looks at them wondering if she's gonna return the favor and rip him apart, but they all freeze, no one more than Peter, when she pulls him in her arms.

'God, you survived, I was so scared they were gonna kill you too, at least you survived.'

Queue awkwardness. She finally realizes that she is holding a statue and leans back to look at him. She frowns when she sees he's looking at her like she's a hallucination and when she looks back she sees Derek frozen, with his arm stretched out almost as if he wants to pull her back. Everyone is looking at her like she's insane and she turn towards Peter again, to ask what the hell is going on. He tries to take a step back, but she grips his hand and demands to know why everyone is looking so weird at her. Sure, she doesn't know most of these people her, but this is her uncle, how did they think she was going to act. And then Scott blurts out 'But he killed you!' and she looks at them like they're the insane ones.

And then she tells them that she was trying to take him away from the hospital that night, because she found out that his nurse and the vet ('remember mom's old emissary that she told us not to talk to before the fire because they had a falling out and she cast him out from the pack?') were making experiments on Peter in the hospital, and when they realized that she was taking him away they came after them. They started to fight but, even as an Alpha, Laura couldn't match their power, so she ran with Peter and, with her last strengths, gave him the Alpha power to help him heal faster so that he could be free of the druids' influence and told him to run, while she stayed behind to fight them off. And maybe she would have won, but hunters came behind them from the forest, and at the lead was Gerard Argent with a big ass sword and, well. Apparently hunters and Druids are too much even for a former Alpha.

Everyone is stunned, and when she looks back at Peter he's just shaking his head muttering over and over 'but I killed you, I was the one, it's my fault'. She looks at him like he's crazy, and when she turns to Derek he looks devastated. She demands they tell her what the hell is going on, and since neither of her relatives looks like they're going to talk about it anytime soon, Stiles starts to tell the story from the beginning. How half her body was found, how Peter bit Scott, Derek coming back, Peter killing the ones responsible for the fire (she gets a satisfied look in her eyes at this point), how everyone fought against Peter and set him on fire again (the satisfaction is replaced by horror), how Derek became the Alpha, Peter came back, they found Cora and Derek lost his Alpha spark.

Laura is looking more and more confused by the turn of events, but she never lets go of Peter's hand. Lydia, Kira and the Betas are listening as well, since none of them had the full story before. Derek slowly migrated to Laura and Peter's side and he takes her other hand, almost to convince himself that she's real. When he finishes, Stiles realizes that this is the most he talked in weeks. Derek and Lydia shoot him looks like they're thinking the same thing, but they don't interrupt him.

Laura looks around the room and zeroes in on Scott. 'So, you're telling me that in less than a year, the Hale Alpha spark went through 4 Hales, if we count Cora too, and is now with this guy?' Everyone looks confused, except for Peter who still hasn't taken his eyes off of her. Scott puffs his chest and tells her that he's a True Alpha, he doesn't have the Hale spark. She snorts, 'seriously dude, you don't really believe the spark just appears out of thin air, right? Law of conservation of energy, nothing can be created nor destroyed, it just transforms from one form to another.' While Scott is starting to turn more red by the second, Lydia and Stiles look at each other with calculating looks, Allison turn towards Isaac and draws him in her embrace, Laura tugs Peter and Derek to the couch and sits them down with Peter in the middle and Erica and Boyd stand next to Derek. Laura throws her feet in Peter's lap, while still clinging to Derek's hand. She looks up suddenly. 'Wait, what happened with Deaton and the nurse? What was her name, Jennifer, Jennifer something….' She looks down, trying to remember, while everyone is starting to look horrified. She snaps her fingers, 'Jennifer Blake, that's the name. What? Why is everyone looking at me like that?'

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benajahccjoseph · 7 years ago

Text

from gods slit wrist

Halogen Incense

Daddy stopped when he left her car seat on the roof.

She was born into it. Early she saw everyone was born similarly She lived in horror at the world’s endless supply of heretics.

Consuming confusion was brilliant in her entrance. A blinding that you tried to look through. The star, the yesteryear, the livid hopes; all under her banner. She entered stage center, dazzled and smiled the smile of small deaths and caught breath. Mississippi. A single precious tear from Gods face, a single drop of blood from Gods slit wrist, dropped in th mud. Seemed the whole state was confused, she never understood that. How was all a God’s country so turned around? Sometimes she thought maybe it was in her eyes.

They were catching a bus Daddy said, but she didn’t figure as much. She held his hand, comforting him. Our Lady of Perpetual Grace was passed without so much as a spit. Daddy wouldn’t look at it. Catholics. Mostly we called em the harlot. She knew what a harlot was. She’d been one.

Grady was supposed to be around Carthage. Hard boys up there, Momma said. Last time he was around he gave Momma some of his teeth. They were always doing that type of thing. They hugs was long uns.

Katherine Robertine Elizabeth Toter-Cobb. We was all flummoxed by such a regal name. Mama has some history attached to it but she only showed us the peeking corners and dirty obscurities.

Momma stole books and burned them after ‘eating’ them. She’d whisper that it felt like eating anyway. She’d say this every time. Perhaps these were only time she wasn’t listing. Momma believed in divine winds. She wouldn’t ever fight em. She wanted a hero, so bad. Her favorites were the ones who died at the end. Nothing confusing about that.

Katy-Rob they called her. Daddy called Momma pretentious. Or pretty contentious. It was one of the only times she looked at him with love. I magine she thought it witty. I know I did. After that look she went on to the pharmacy and Daddy went to buy tickets. I caught up to her looking real intent on some new tennis shoes on this dude with a Cat hat n’ those damn sequined jeans.

Know when you gaze up and on a thing…cher, you change it?

I know that mama.

Oh youre so erudite, you.

What?

Momma was Acadian and though she was supposed to be so smart she talked just like everyone else, cept kinda dumber for that couy’on shit. In every picture I every saw of her she was showing her long white teeth, like she was trying to sell something. Later I came to see she was trying to prove to the world she wasn’t poor.

Id seen Mama do some sketchy shit, some wicked shit…one time she rented Grady out for 3 months. Stabbed a girl in Germantown outside a Memphis because she was too high. In the heat of demon attack mama looked sinistral, eyes seemed almost all black and shadows moved about her profile like they was alive. Face would be all fucked up. I hated looking at her like that. You just wanted to put yourself inbetween her and that.

I wote a poem for her. She loved to dance. Long lines a sweat in every right place. Everyone looked at her when she was dancing… like they everyone wanted to hump ’er…momma had dat juju.

We leak through the clicks you clock and mourn for the rocks we see carried about Demure with reverence but cannot rationalize just feel within as we all watch our loved ones spin to try and place an eye on the thing That produces the suffering and in this spinning habitual it metastasized into ritual and the dance in its ignorance is beautiful lenocinant sinistral

and i wish we could all be still

“Feet pue tan, mi amor”

Mama don’t cuss. Never would.

I loved lines like that. The whole lot of us lived on that line.

There wasn’t ever gonna be any bus, and she was startlingly not shamed by his lie. Heretics. Small feet kicked at a Fanta Orange. Katy-Rob couldn’t be sure if they was black or dirty so she looked up a bit. Confusing who was proper and who wasn’t. She’d heard some ministers ministerin’ on keeping birds with birds and cows with cows.

She wanted to scratch when she itched but she never did.

Holed up at the non-denominational she took a moment to do her 4th dailies while she watched the transactions. Time and money for peace of mind, she knew there was no equanimity in that purchase for how can you sell somin inside the body. Only time she felt that was in the rock and roll church’s, that precious theater inside her heart singing out the most amazing dance numbers. Gold and purple feelings. Like Mamma’s Tigers.

Bus trip in the none-to-crisp suit pocket, they stayed for the Wed. prayer meetin. “Lord, clarity!?” is all she heard.

She let em. In her mind she wouldn’t say any of them words, though she knew em all. Not anymore. School want ever much of an option. She imagined she’d gone some 86 days counting Sunday school. Down in Delta Daddy drove the pickers and Momma would help her people at the gin. She guessed they also make juniper liquor, but she had never seen anybody so much as talking too much.

Usually she let em. Long as Grady wasn’t in the county or parish.

Carthage

Inside of the pain management clinic Momma wagged a smidgen more than usual.

The Cave. Yeah she felt like she understood what that peasant man had been on about. Inside of her the beasts walked behind her eyes projecting outward before the flame. Spirit. It was in there, everyone cept the great harlot believed that, maybe the Jews too.

The connection with the nebulous. A shadow moving over the death waters. Spirit. All of us believed in it, we just didn’t know what it did exactly. People loved to say ‘god-bless’ or ‘Lord have mercy’ without any effect registerin’. To my mind that just made it a cuss word.

She loved the swamp. Would try and draw it out on some papers she kept in a plastic sack. She would rub the expensive paper between her fingers and something stirred. The cicadas song was richer there, the air tugged back, weightier somehow. She felt like her house would one day be in the swamp, clapboard painted green with mesh to keep out the critters but not else.

It sounded like a side of deboned meat being hit with a Louisville slugger, he’d been there and few people went around with bats. Guns mainly. Breaking his hand had been a salvation. He thought he’d found religion but he’d found instead a boy from Colombia. Alerts rang. Grady felt drugs were a last option. Open but last on line. Everyone he grew up with said “in line” but Grady was careful with his mastery of what he considered the only separation betwixt man and dog.

Manfreid Israel Romele was Russian. Perhaps German. Older. Beautiful. Cement blonde. How is a fighter so beautiful? Grady knew.

Smoldering halogen incense prayed for them. Pissing on the carhood altar.

The boy was a fucking nightmare. Glowed. Darkness. He’d seen it before. Everything was loose when he prayed, like the boy standing feet away, steam roiling off of his neck, with “Molon Labe” tatted across the front of his windpipe, where he got hit 45 seconds later.

The Chevelle was purple and Grady wouldn’t lean on it. Surrounding the Big Red Barn choking the purity of the moment were the ‘chickens’. Grady had said, ”clucking foul” but his folk just spit out the gumbo. Grady did not respect a man who watched blood-sports.

Ancient and comfortable. It was more than he could bear, of at time he would sit in the pot till he’d eatin it. A marvel of his power, kneeling on the commode in communion. Particles of hay and heat, cicada’s his private herald. Easy 220. Easy. Against his knees fabric calmed his fingers, he thought of his sister; the smile closed. He thought of Teddy on his horse, the pompous, articulate fool.

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood…”

So fucking obvious, like ham-in-hand. Natchitoches. Ham-in-Hand Festival 94. You could walk across the Sabine on boats, smells of the Cajun Microwave’s buried in the soft loam some 100 paces from the water. Whole hogs stuffed with chickens and doves. Grady wondered if dogs trusted smell the way humans subscribed to sight. It was over tween them and he should have seen it. Grady looked coldly at his need. Only the slightest of scowls. Chemicals he thought, chemicals and blips.

He didn’t think it much, to go to war. He was plied with Mozi, Xenophon and 1st Chronicles 4:10 early. Daddy leaning over him and pointing to sketches momma had drawn to go with the Gideon Bible which was in constant circumlocution with others of its ilk. He always walked hunkered down, tied firmly to many things that were not tied to him.

She scuttled over the grooved Cyprus, kaleidoscope of man reduced, he saw her; languidly absorbing the violence to come. Beneath her impressive multi-spectacled visage was her load, atwitter. Looked of fine hairs in a sharp breeze, her brood beneath her belly. She leaned back as if to sit or box or pray, front legs circling in the direction of the bigger man’s dead face.

Lawd have a way, boy you ready?

The man was a fat, suspender framing a whet shirt with nowhere to go came up on Grady’s boy Ara too fast.

Ok we ready?

Ill kill you ifin you don’t step back.

Things was tight, Grady knew all bout this here.

Aight then.

Theys a bit a nonsense bout that bet?

No. Straight up.

Mine’ll be in money orda?

Ara’d get it after the fight now, cause I’ll be on my way, Briar Rabbit style, gros cul.

Fat man took on a greasy bugger as backward he moved, “that man fittin to fuck you.”

Tingle. Mmmmmmm. Grady felt like Ehud preparing to assassinate the fat king Eglon of Moab.

Hear that Schvartze, eer dat fat man.

God give me a verse. He chewed a small hangnail.

Ha. He knew it. 2 Kings 9:20, 20 The watchman [a]reported, “He came even to them, and he did not return; and the driving is like the driving of Jehu the son of Nimshi, for he drives furiously.”

The Lord gave this verse a lot.

Ehud and Jehu. Lawd have mercy son.

This boy was car black, and it really aint right, that type a black. That sheen of purple that made Grady think of dinosaurs and that painter Turner. Give em almost like invisibility at night. And nobody wants that shit. It’s like that shine you can see you’re reflection in… but it gives pause cause it’s a black you staring back. How fucking mad you’d be. Grady wouldn’t look at those shiny black cars, he even avoided dark purple.

Fat man giggled into his cerchief and sat down on a bale; he thought, looking toward the unimpressive white boy, that this’d be soon over.

Grady prayed a bit, squatted and thought of something like a dwarf star painted on a canvas the side of the barn.

He knew the boy’d come over the top and heavy, he knew hed move left and the boy’d come in with a quick step and a lunge at his knees. All the cat in that man was now cutting its way to the top. the breath was bull-like in intensity but shallow. The red rims mean he’s a drinker probably and he favored his left knee a bit. Grady felt sorry then. Sorry for his life and his momma, sorry for the man who was gonna try a kill him, sorry for the fat man who bet against his own kind, sorry that Mississippi water that he smelled on everything was growing less pungent. Sorry God was real and poetry was to hang him. Sometimes things seeded afor birth ripen when they aint wanted. He always felt tears was fine where laughter was.

They drummed him out of the military for being too young. Sure at that time it would be the catalyst for a life riding the dark horse, he considered killing himself but didn’t. Grady’d look in the mirror most days to check and see if it was time.

I read somewhere that poor people typically name their kids names like Unique, Kandy, Sherry and Amber. Later, I read somewhere that girls with some particular names wind up being hookers and dancers and in the porno’s. It bothered me it took two studies to not say that poor girls went to stripping a shade faster than rich ones. Academicians are so fucking stupid. Not only this but everyone knew that strippers changed their names. I thought then and think now I should be in charge of a hair more.

I guess I followed her around some. I remember the taste of bubble-gum scented shampoo and her face. We were protective of each other as should be expected. Daddy woednt too much of a provider, nor a daddy. I guess she burned out that wild streak cause she came back directly. “I wish I was in Dixie, hurrah hurrah In Dixie land Ill take my stand to live and die in Dixie. Oh way Oh way Oh way down south….. in Dixie.” She loved the word Dixie, long as I knew her though I believe she thought it more of a state of being, like glory or honor. She may ah never known it was holding all our heads under water. Grady knew all about it and loved it anyway. Some things just don’t figure. Soon as I could I got out. Not sure anyone else ever did, not really.

I remember him takin pictures of her holding onto a lit lighter and a squeeze bottle a lighter fluid. I remember when the men came in and he couldn’t protect us. He tried. Grady says, “tryin dyin.”

I read an article somewhere bad things happen to poorer people more often, it was more nuanced than that but that’s what I got. “Katy-Rob, bring us that phone.” “your cellular phone?” “We aint go no…little smart-alec.” She was always doin stuff like that. I couldn’t ever figure who she was making fun of, Daddy or this Democratic Republic. Maybe Jonny Locke. Momma was a Rhodes Scholar, I do not know how.

The slovenly way she met my laughter got her a lick. She called herself red velvet, not a nickname, her color. Said mamma was white as the driven snow cept a little Cocoa and a dash’a red food colorin. At a certain age I started realizing that I was gonna be mostly for myself, like my cousin Fay. I took to strippin like anybody’s business. First night in, this little Indian girl told me we do private parties, all naked. I couldn’t see much difference anyhow. It was illegitimate and the girls were indifferent to the men sucking on their titties and stuff. It just suited me fine.

I told Grady that he was to keep my little sister outta my world. There was only room in Carthage for one Cobb stripper.

The striker clicked down and something happened but it sure did not fire a round. White slipstream stepped quickly and quietly inside and hit the man with the gun in the throat. That noise is a thing. Everyone knew he’d done killed him. Grady remembered Niccki Bercham getting punched just so and dying. He guessed he coulda just knocked the gun away. Somewhere, someone was probably holding a little nigglet, waiting on daddy to call. It’d be a wait.

There were eight Cobbs all said but they slithered off, most of em anyway, to Bama and Nam and Peru. Doesn’t matter too much because once they left sight of the Mississippi River, they was good as dead.

Why’d they decide to try and kill him? Grady had a small warrant out on him that left the Boss little choice. That’s what I heard.

Theys four of us around and we all came. Amber, Bo, Katy, and me. Grady stood up from a Shaker stool he loved.

Grady said they’d maybe come for one of us.

They got Katy Rob two nights later, sent in her fron tooth wit they diamond set in it. Fucked up but shed done talked about rippin it out her own self.

Similies was supposed to be a real swanky joint but it was not. Owner by strategery has built a damn motel in the back. Lord have mercy, sulphur factory. I went to pills in the first month. Once you have gonna church and believe, shit gets real hard to do…after the first couple times anyway.

Grady wasn’t blood related to all the girls and he knew to divide his attentions. You cant just go around fighting the whole wrestling team. Amber was neck-tatted and out from around at 14. Our older cousins had done some strippin down on the redneck riveria and I reckon it called her harder’n dope.

Katy took to the hard life too but came back to me and Daddy, Momma and her never cared to talk to one another. She came back quieter and only wore beige and grey. She wrote long letters to Amber and cried some but I would have had her cry all the time if’n she’d just stay.

You’se too young buddy.

I knew you’d say that shit.,

Amber drove up in a fucking Infinity with something clanking under the jappy hood. I knew Grady wouldn’t even look at her, not even one time.

Amber and me gonna go talk to Joe-Block. See if we can figure something out.

There wasn’t any reason to hate Grady for being what he was but I had me a weapon too.

I never knew a way to complete the things that others completed. I reckon I’m slow or I ain’t totally grown up yet. Somin’. When I saw those men take Katy and beat Daddy, there was some sort of wet click and I seemed of a sudden to be able to see it all. The vast expanse and the precipitous nature of the wealthy and the bright. left us all killing each other over a double wide and an abortion.

I watched myself, knowin somehow I had made a decision that was about being a man, about being a Cobb n’ a Toten but there wasn’t anything movie about it. I stole a ladies cruiser out front a the Winn Dixie and played with myself all the way to Biloxi. I felt greasy and popped a pimple on my back. Somehow the Ruger felt lighter the further south we went, like it was becoming less offended by its own.

I was in love with the purity of my little brother. He would never talk to me in front of other people but in private he asked after my girlfriends and me. Once I got a bit too graphic and he white’nd up so I was sure he was gonna kill me. I think he’s still a virgin at 24.

I had made 1200. I have no damn clue where that fucking money is now. Jessie and I were working on a routine, she had this idea for a ‘concept piece’ with Moors and an allusion to the Hearst family but we just wound up kissing and smoking cigarettes till it was our turn.

They could see her now. More whispers to Letty, “This place gone turn out.”

“mmm”

“Im gone go bump th doe man and see if he got a piece.”

Letty smiled a ray of rancid rainbow.

5’1 or 5’3 he guessed. Wadnt no 5’2. Tatted up like her momma didn’t give a fuck. A little bump in his chest somewhere reminded him of another girl, another stripper, another piece of meat in the wily trades of men.

She caught his eye and may have winked, which sent Letty whom everyone called Lessy to the potty to laugh in the stall.

Men with huge dicks walk a bit different she whispered to a man sticking a 10 in her g. Lets the whole world who cares to know. The roxi’s in her were turning everything a little less than, like life was amped up but she was at regular speed. She kept seeing > signs. In the glass of the bowl, in her reflective panties, in her eyes in the cracke john mirra. Pulling his head she thought momentarily of licking his ear but these was Halliburton boys, fresh oft the rig and in Hub City to be jackass’s but not to take a good shower.

When she threw up the front row moved toward anywhere that wasn’t there. Same time a rukus in the commode and a gunshot out the back.

A week later a tall boy walks in and politely asks after Robert-Earl. No one really wanted to tell him.

Everything I did the hardest I ever done. I worked all my life with Daddy at whatever we was doing then so I always knowed I could throw a bale a bit harder than most. I was always taught to be polite even if they weren’t, so I thought Id just ask after Katys old boss. Figured with his lip Id go on ahead. His eye popped out with that first one, his ocular cavity crushed, and I walked toward the back looking at the mirrors for boys coming up on me. I know I punched some girls and I hope to high hell they aint no videotape a me but when it started in earnest it couldn’t be helped. I know one of em kissed me on the back of my neck while I was stomping on this colored boys. Heard later he got paralyzed some. Gottim a check anyway.

I learned that night why mama said them Carthage boys is hard. Robert-Earl. I had a drown his brother in front a him and it wernt no easy thing.

Amocitea

Your Daddy aint gonna recognize you.

Still that little girl. When under all of it, peach flame tripped along at the word. She wanted so much for him to swoop, it was pure. A clean thing, her vision of Daddy just doing what all real animals did. Maybe he was too human.

That golden blanket that she just expected to keep on being, didn’t; and she stepped out really believing that they was gentlemen in this South, in this here state. One night looking deep in her own eyes while everyone elses in the room were on her crotch she realized that this southern thang was a crock. She spected Margaret Mitchell probably just cold wishin like every other Dixie brat split-tail. It was a precious pity that she thought in that manner, she thought…probably affecting her self-image or the like.

She’s hurt I felt. Hurt people, hurt people but with such a swirlin tide, a man just got to decide when to jump in, not if.

Once I heard that Grady involved everybody in his business, I knew I hadda get us outta town. I didn’t really think Momm’d come wit her doctors here and whatever else she was into. Since Id come back from the Wilderness I had taken to wearing full length skirts and not shaving. I know my flesh well and I knew that just like this skirt, I could put it back on rrrrrreeeeeaaaalllllly quick. And that’s the plan, back to the hotel to make us some money.

Half-way from the bus-stop to the club I thought just maybe I was being a bit drastic, but I cant remember what my next thought was after that.

Bo adjusted the mirror on the 91 Olds to see if he’d indeed gotten dip on his collar. A birth canal in the back seat caused him to blink for a second longer than average. The strip-club owners Daddy used to be a Marine and it showed. Punching and biting his way out of the trunk into the car was a feat, Bo’d be the first to tell ya. He’d blindfolded, zip tied and hit the man with 75000 Watts but this Minotaur was now in the backseat. Fucking Carthaginians.

They realized quick they’d done fucked up with this one. She prayed aloud all day long, was unfailingly polite and every chance she got she tried to kill em. Lessy had knocked her tooth out purely on accident but after he reckoned the diamond to be fake, he sent it on to the boss. Almost all his spare time went to kittens. More had received some care from a witch the Dixie Mafia used for dogs. Little bitch had fought harder than any man ever would. In the end she’d ripped off a testicle and with that they put her in box. She calmly told em she couldn’t breath.

I hada shoot him through the seat and we wrecked. He was hurt even worse, so I lit a floor mat afire and ran off in the other directin than Angola, Fuck that, Daddy’d worked there as a guard for 3 days till they done found out he’d been in Parchman for vehicular homicide. Mamma said that great clouds a nephalim hung over those places. I couldn’t see them but I smelled em. Mamma and Katy-Rob always had eyes for that type of thing. Maybe they both lyin though.

I figured theyd run they dogs from around the car so I needed to get gone.

Did not like taken anything from white folks, I did not know how I was gonna pay for that ladies car I done wrecked but it’d get done. The little Kawasaki three wheeler cranked up nice and I left them my hunting license to show good faith.

You aint gonna believe this shit.

Francis-Jean Prichideaux III really could have done without hearing another person say that. It seemed to preface every comment. As a boy he’d felt something akin to the feeling he had now when other nut-brown Acadian boy’s ud say, “Wanna see something…hold my beer.”

Nothing good eva come outta dem type a commentary’s.

What?

Claudius came over with a note. Says here that Similies had another big da-doo.

Whan?

Last night.

Itd been 2 weeks since they colored boys come up in that terrible place and Blanc Bebbette got taken, now what dis shit?

Dixie Mafia used for dogs. Little bitch had fought harder than any man ever would. In the end she’d ripped off a testicle and with that they put her in box. She calmly told em she couldn’t breath. More heard, “I feel free.” thought long and hard about that medicine Melodina gave him, the plan was he was, of a time, to go back. ER out the wustion. She told him he could still sire a brood, if he chose.

Right now the chose was in nose. That moment, eternal, universal, when you know for certain that thing are bout to get lit.

I figured theyd run they dogs from around the car so I needed to get gone.

Did not like taken anything from white folks I did not know how I was gonna pay for that ladies car I done wrecked but it’d get done. The little Kawasaki three wheeler cranked up nice and I left them my hunting license to show good faith.

You aint gonna believe this shit.

Nothing good eva come outta dem type a commentary’s.

What?

Claudius came over with a note. Says here that Similies had another big da-doo.

Whan?

Last night.

Itd been 2 weeks since them colored boys come up in that terrible place and Blanc Bebbette got taken, now what dis shit? Least he didn’t have any crackers around to be yapping about…”oh what now you gonna do colored ssherrff”

The problem we have with God honey is related to expectations and not based in the hard VERITAS of life. See here, what happens when youo to church?

I listen to the preacher

Right, sure but when you’re singing a good Hallelujah song. Or something real once make you cry every time. That jut Him leeting us know that we are cared for.s like that one goes, “Lord You are more precious than silver…

Lord You are more costly than gold.

Together, “Lord You are more beautiful than diamonds.

And nothing I desire compares to You.”

Lord, honey you have a voice like angel blast-furnace. When you get that deep purple swell….

Purple and Gold.

Yesssa, and that is the real thing and it is a thing that belongs in this world yet has a hand fully in the next. But what you looking for there is that feeling to keep on keepin on.

Yessir.

But it don’t.

No.

Is that Gods problem or yours?

I feel like sometimes it is Him.

Cause you just go home and go straight to sinning.

And I wonder why in all His Greatness, I just can’t get a little help in that department.

But you care don’t ya?

I care a great deal. I expect it’s my conscience.

Yes. But a conscience ain’t a stopper, it’s just a fuse light indicator.

So then where’s the stopper?

That’s the catch.

Meaning its all up to me.

Honey, you ever look at a real life hero?

Maybe Rooster Carley?

Hmm. Ain’t none. He died 2000 years ago, therebouts. Now we just hunker down. Oh you gone sin. I’m gone sin. Yo Mamma, Lawd have a way. Its not about ‘not doin’ its about accepting your place in grace.

My place in grace.

From behind him mamma stepped, lightly, elegant specter. White on white on white, yet the air hovered lightly around it as if mistrusting. Mama’s essence was rebellion. Born with a dead twin boy, she lay never crying once in granny’s arms. Said she wouldn’t look nobody in the eye. They was alarmed from the get go. Mamma was said to have spent some of her teen years in Walnut Gove. She supposed to have found God in there, in the gladiator school. Once when she came home to the Shady Acres #3 after being out for a minute, she took me and we sat behind the dumpster; she told me about the first love of her life while she smoked up a cool bill a rock. Some people get all crazy scared of people on hard drugs, like they got special powers or summin. I ain’t but but a buck and change and I’m telling you I have cold knocked fuckers out who go too close. It’s best just to warn white folks up front, but when mamma slumming or Im at school and we dealing wit regular street niggas, I just stay loose, if mamma grab and go…then well, Im just down wit mine.

Oh Daddy.

I love my Daddy…

What are ya’ll ssscheming on. Lemme see your billfold.

Daddy’s trying to tell me all the war we got with sin is just an illusion.

Woman, that’s not what I said.

That we have to learn to accept our weakness as part of life. And personally for me, cause I listen to all them preachers and I read all them books and I pray on the Bible…I do it all with a knife in my belt and Im down for the clan but I do not wanna keep on living this way.

Ooh its one of them talks, you…what your daddy is remise in sharing is that there are other forces at work in this world.

NO.

Well talk later honey.

We never did.

I believe Mamma occupies some special place in this world, like a gold key that is made for just one lock, the most magnificent things await behind it; but you put that fucker in your back pocket with a handkerchief and they key is lost in the Misty Mountains. Myrrh and aloe and decay and female sex and the heat after summer rain and moss and Cyprus and dawn and linen white. Mamma mind was fine. Mammas body was the problem. She worshipped it to hurt her.

She saw a movie once at the Motel 6 in Latham Springs Texas called Jennifer’s Body, she said that though the metaphor was sloppy and the genre “totally LA” a poor excuse, yet she understood that somehow this connected us, because I was watching her becoming self aware.

Of an aspect only I believe, but a crack in the wall blinked a purple light in my eye and I realized that indeed “the affections of the heart are Divine”. If God dropped the veil once in a while, it somehow ran through my mother.

But even though I am slower than other folks, I can tell you that if Daddy believes that things are moving behind the scenes and mamma sees em too. Man, these things are making them worse…not better.

Man out of trunk

Boy wrecks.

Runs into St Francisville swamp

The kidnapping event

Tearing the tooth

Too much “arm” dead girl

Grady gets pickeup

Amber breaks him out

Bo meets someone unexpected

Daddys lie

Gradys brother is Robert Earl.

Daddys bet

Layerdown. from gods slit wrist Halogen Incense Daddy stopped when he left her car seat on the roof.

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