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mamamittens · 2 years ago

Note

ight hear me out: NSFW/SFW Headcanons of FEM!reader trying on a corset or lingerie (or both lmao). Make it with Shanks, Mihawk, Law, and Kataguri :) (also I'm gonna ask this to other writer peeps so hope you don't mind :D)

I don't mind at all! Btw, I'm going with a corset since it's more specific and I actually have a couple of pairs cause I do rather like them even if they're a pain in the ass to wear lmao.

Sfw assumes platonic relationship and nsfw assumes romantic/sexual relationship.

Warnings: breath play, food play, marking, sexual content, and eating out (sexually).

Written like the reader is already wearing it rather than trying it out in like, a dressing room or something.

Shanks

Sfw

Oh~? He didn't know what exactly he did to earn this but he quite likes the view! Teasingly assures you that, should you need it, he's willing to help tighten the strings. If it's a steel boned corset he'll tease you by straightening his spine mockingly everytime he passes you.

Sorry fam, you really gotta fight for less than perfect posture with reinforced corsetry.

He does think it looks good though, but he will take care to keep an eye out to make sure you can breathe right and that it isn't too tight. He hardly needs two hands to cut it off. Anyone trying to leer at you will receive their own leer from himself as he drapes over your shoulder with a disarming smile. Arm hooked around your collarbone to cover up the view a bit more.

You are never bothered for long.

Nsfw

His earlier offer is given with a lot more "shit eating grin" than before. He also tends to kiss the exposed skin of your shoulders and chest. Really enjoying how little work he has to do to prop up your breasts.

Because he's an ass, he absolutely goes to town while reaching behind you to yank the lace tight. He loved the shocked sound you made and wouldn't hesitate to do it again. Might devolve into a bit of breath play as he teases you.

Relishes how warm the corset is the longer you wear it and likes the lace and ribbons.

If you're wearing a steel boned corset he instead tries to see if he can tease you until it snaps open from the force of your lungs or spine. He's going to be really mean and use the inflexible design to his advantage and really, you only have yourself to blame when he pins you under him where you can't move.

Wear it in public and he's going to take the opportunity to pull you aside to mark your body just under it so if anyone tries to sneak a peak they'll see his hickeys instead of your soft skin. And all over your shoulders too because he can, but he's especially proud of prying the corset away enough to play with your breasts before neatly tucking them back in with a smug grin and a kiss for putting up with him.

Mihawk

Sfw

He's quite familiar with corsets already and has long thought you'd look magnificent in one. Whether or not you happened to be wearing one he picked his irrelevant. He is mindful of you comfort, offering to go over the laces or settling the buttons on a steel boned corset so you can wear it comfortably.

He also thinks the enforced posture does wonders for you, mostly because it sets back your shoulders and you appear more confident in it. He strikes me as someone that finds that sort of thing alluring. And he has a thing for fancy wear, and corsets are usually quite fancy.

Should anyone give you trouble he won't storm over but the impending sense of doom in his glare is enough to cut people off quickly. If he absolutely must, he will place his hand on your shoulder and loom over the opposing person.

He knows it's a lot harder to argue or fight in a corset and doesn't mind nipping that behavior at the bud.

Nsfw

He's quite intrigued and pleased with the view. He particularly appreciates taking in how the corset changes your silhouette and where it fails to contain your body. Gently fondling the overflow of soft flesh and tasting it. He's just as put together as ever but he's notably more passionate.

He'll drive you mad, hands fixed firmly over you ribs as he feels intimately how hard you struggle to breath under him. It's also incredibly likely he'll use the laces as a hand hold when your having sex, pulling your body into his hips forcefully to hear your weak gasps.

In the case of a steel boned corset without any laces he'll see what gives first. The corset or your body. He'll be insufferably pleased if you jolting as you cum snaps the support structure and absolutely seeks to make it happen.

If you're not careful this will be part of a punishment later. And an excuse to try and bounce your breasts clean out of the cups for him to sip spilled wine from. Hard to say really.

But he clearly loves you wearing it.

Law

Sfw

He's a scowling man and starts of by reminding you of the health hazards of improperly wearing a corset. Probably while checking your work and ensuring it's secured. After making sure you're safe he quietly informs you that you look good.

He's got no leg to stand on in terms of fashion/color/pattern coordination but does give you pointers for pieces more suitable for your body. He's also more likely to rip the damn thing off if he suspects it's too tight and affecting you rather than wasting time untying it.

After that he's going to insist he helps you secure it to make sure there aren't any repeats.

Anyone bothering you is getting a dark glare and twitchy fingers.

Anyone dumb enough to ignore the warning signs gets their bits scattered across town.

Nsfw

He's bold as shit, immediately wedging his fingers between the fabric to personally measure the space you left for breathing. If he's feeling feisty, he purposefully does it between your breasts and offers to tighten it more.

I wouldn't fall for it. He's absolutely going to use the laces as handlebars when he fucks you from behind. Or 'fix' it while you ride him, enjoying watching your breasts bounce as it loosens to suddenly snap it tight. When your worn out he'll loosen it and rub his hands under the corset, massaging your aching chest.

This is also a trap. He's just going to edge you as he slowly tightens it back again until your gasping and in tears.

Steel boned corset just means he knows you can't move your spine freely, especially after he 'adjusts' the corset. So even when your exhausted your sitting up nice and pretty in his lap. If you were really tired you'd try and lean over.

Oh well. Another round it is.

Katakuri

Sfw

Home boy has a very... Particular view considering his height. But he's respectful and once he can actually see the corset and not your propped up cleavage, he compliments you.

He does offer to see if he can't get a leather corset to match aesthetic with him. And as someone who is very familiar with constantly having to keep up appearances, he's always willing to help alleviate the pressure if you find it hard to breathe. Maybe retie it a bit more loose so you can still rock the shaped silhouette without being unable to run or tie your shoes.

He'll definitely appreciate a more uhm... Pastel sugar kawaii color pallette if you go with more lace and silk. But he's partial to cute things so who could blame him.

Nsfw

It's so sweet of you to give him the perfect plate for his desserts today! He'll have to properly thank you later... First though, it's time for a snack.

He'll delicately place his sweets on your cleavage or tucked just under the corset and eat hands free from you. He has to hold you still after all or he might nick your skin before he's ready. And what a shame he got crumbs under your breasts. However did that happen?!

Guess he'll have to clean that up too.

Toys with the laces as he eats. If he gets too vigorous and the corset starts to loosen before he's done, he twists the ties in his fingers and pulls then taut. Pausing to kiss you as you gasp breathlessly as an apology. Somewhere between the powdered sugar and icing he starts biting and sucking on your skin. You didn't think he was only eating food from his personal chefs, did you?

Absolutely takes advantage of the corset ties to eat you out. Keeping you from moving away though he usually prefers holding your thighs, this is also quite nice. If you're wearing the steel boned corset he's a bit more reckless since you can't wriggle as much.

When he's done fucking you, he gently removes the corset and... Oh!

Looks like he missed some crumbs! He has better manners than that! He'll clean you right up... And while he's at it he should see to the mess he made elsewhere too ;)

#one piece #one piece smut #one piece katakuri #shanks one piece #trafalgar law smut #mihawk one piece #trafalgar law #mihawk smut #shanks smut #tw: breath play #corsets #i really do like wearing them but i only have lingerie ones so they're not comfortable #not sure where id get proper ones either #i aint small folks #female reader

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tf2-hellhole · 4 years ago

Note

can we get some fluffy tf2 headcannons? giving you full creative liberty over this one! :)

Idk if you meant tf2 x reader headcanons or just general head canons, so I did two sections for each merc; the first point is a general headcanon, the second is X Reader.

sorry this took forEEEEEEEEVER, I was just experiencing burnout and working on a prize for a contest on my server (BTW WE HAVE A NEW DRAWING CONTEST GO CHECK IT OUT)

Scout:

Scout is actually really self-concious about his intelligence. He’s not very bright and he knows it, and it makes him feel horrible. He had flunked out of high school and struggled in most of his core classes. He honestly feels really stupid and he hates when people point it out. But luckily for him, a lot of the other mercs understand what it’s like to be looked down upon and empathize with him. Quite a few of them help him relearn the skills he never mastered in school. Engie helps him with math, Spy sometimes helps him with writing, and even Pyro has him read children’s books to them to improve his reading.

Scout absolutely loves little casual dates. Stuff like going out to eat lunch, going to the movies, maybe just cuddling up in his quarters and watching a movie. He tries to plan one every week. His dream date is taking you back to Boston to meet his family and go to a Red Sox game. But obviously, since you’re both in New Mexico at the time, he’s going to have to shelve that dream for a few years.

Soldier:

Soldier is an excellent raccoon dad. At first, the other mercenaries thought they’d all end up dead by the end of the month when he first found them. But surprisingly, they are are very well cared for. They’re all fed regularly and basically have his entire assigned quarters to themselves. He loves every single one of them dearly, even the ones that hiss and scratch him every time. The raccoons, at least some of them, are kind of like weird, quiet dogs, and actually get along pretty well with most of the other mercenaries.

Soldier is a surprisingly very physically affectionate partner, and he’s not at all opposed to PDA. He loves hand holding, cheek kisses, cuddles, the whole nine yards. Whenever he’s particularly excited, he loves to run up to you, scoop you up into his arms, and press a hard, sloppy kiss to your lips. Of course, he’s careful to not hurt you, but he’s a very intense, emotional guy and he needs to express all that love he has for you!

Pyro:

Pyro is and excellent listener, so they’re a person a lot of the other mercenaries depend on to vent. Demo often comes to them to vent about his emotions, Scout, Sniper, or Medic will rant about what’s bothering them, and even Engineer will talk about his stress. And of course, Pyro doesn’t understand a lot of what is told to them, but they’re still happy to help them feel a little better, and they would happily do it a hundred times over to make their friends feel better.

Pyro has a hobby of baking and making candy/treats, and they love sharing everything they make with you. When they first gave you a treat, you honestly thought it’d be burnt or bad in some other way. But to your surprise, it was amazing! They’re actually and excellent cook, but they just love making sweet things the best. They’ll make you just about anything you could ask for without hesitation, but they’re best at making anything sweet.

Demo:

Demo obviously has the potential to pretty emotional when he’s drunk, there’s no doubt about that. But on the off-chance that he’s sober, he’s actually pretty sweet and considerate. Though he still is a rough-housing joker, he’s much more considerate of his friends’ feelings and has deeper and more meaningful conversations with them. He often likes to go to bars with his friends and co-workers on ceasefire weekends, having lots of fun conversation, drinking together, and generally causing chaos around town.

Demo, to put it simply, doesn’t like himself. He’s critical of everything, from his skills to race, because people have always put him down about them. His mother told him he’s lazy and unskilled too many times to count, just everyone makes fun of his eye, and many have made fun of his skin color. But you make him feel so much better about himself. Just the fact that someone so kind and gorgeous is actually with him makes him feel like he’s not as horrible as he thought. There’s been a couple of times where you’ve accidentally almost brought him to tears with a sweet compliment or show of affection, because he never thought in a million years that someone would love him and care for him like you do. He feels so blessed that he has someone like you.

Heavy:

I know the fandom’s decided that Engie is the Team Mom and makes the food, but I also think that Heavy cooks a lot too. He makes all of his own food, so he often makes a lot of extras to feed the team because a lot of them just eat junk food and Medic’s always complaining about their eating habits. Heavy often takes like half the food for himself (he does have a huge appetite and loves food, so he likes to take a lot) and just boxes up the leftover portions and leaves them in the fridge for the team to take. He says he’s only doing it because they can’t work properly if they’re unhealthy, but he also does it because he cares about their health. A little bit.

At first, you wouldn’t think Heavy’s the most cuddly guy. But surprise, he actually loves giving and receiving physical affection. He just doesn’t show it often out of respect for your boundaries, and doesn’t do it around others. His absolute favorite thing is to cuddle you against his chest. Sometimes it’s when going to sleep, or cuddling on the couch, or maybe just a quick hug. He just loves the feeling of your head resting against his chest and your arms trying (and failing) to wrap around his torso. It makes him feel like you’re safe. Nobody could ever get you when you’re wrapped up in his arms.

Engie:

You’d think Sniper’s the only nature nerd on the team, but Engie absolutely loves the outdoors, as well as animals. It’s because his father would often take him out camping every couple of months. It was often the only time he would get 1-on-1 time with his usually very busy father. So he does love the great outdoors, especially that of his home state. He especially loves animals. He was raised on a farm and helped take care of lots of injured wild animals with his mother. He absolutely loves pets and would like to have many when he retires. His dream is to have is own ranch, with horses and cows and a bunch of dogs and the whole shebang.

Engie absolutely loves playing the guitar, so of course he loves playing for you. He learns all sorts of sweet love songs to sing to you. He’s an excellent player and actually has a pretty decent singing voice (think Johnny Cash, he kinda has that singing style). I hope you like country music, because that’s all he’s going to sing to you until you give him some requests or he finds out your favorite artists or genres. You can tell how happy he is every time he gets to surprise you with a new song he learned, and he’d be a giddy, laughing mess if you sang along with him.

Medic:

You’d think this guy takes horrible care of his birds because of the environment he keeps them in, but his birds are actually exceptionally well cared for. He buys them only the best and most expensive bird food, gives them super high-quality water with vitamins n stuff in it, takes them to the vet regularly, the whole shebang. Yeah they get a little dirty from sitting around in his lab, but he always gives them a little bath at the end of the day to get all the blood and guts off.

Medic is honestly such a playful partner. Of course, around his co-workers he’s a little more professional; he still gives you soft touches, a kiss on the cheek, or a big smile, but that’s about it. In private, however, he’s such a sweetheart. He’s always sweeping you up into big hugs, kissing all over your face, and calling you all sorts of adorable nicknames in a variety of languages. It comes as a surprise, because you’d think he’d be a little more formal, but that’s really only for special occasions. It honestly brings him so much joy to have someone like you by his side, and every day he’s going to make sure you know just how grateful he is to have you in his life.

Sniper:

Sniper is an incredibly independent and self-sufficient man, but he’s also secretly a real mama’s boy. He loves his parents dearly and has a particularly close relationship with his mother. As well as sending them money every month, he sends them all sorts of gifts, letters, postcards, and souvenirs. He also makes sure to call them regularly. He goes home every couple of months to visit them, and one could see that he loves helping around the house and chatting with his parents. His mother loved gardening, so his number-1 favorite thing to do is help her in the garden.

Despite Sniper’s obvious lack of knowledge on self-care, he takes a lot of time out of his day to make sure you are happy, healthy, clean, and well-fed. He doesn’t hound you like a helicopter parent but he likes to ask how you’re feeling, if you’re hungry, stuff like that. It feels nice to know you’re taken care of or take care of you himself. If you switch it around and try to take care of him, however, he’s honestly baffled as to why you would care so much as to make sure he’s doing well. He does absolutely love the affection and attention he gets out of it though, it makes him feel loved.

Spy:

I’ve mentioned this before, but I have a head canon that Spy has a dog. Her name is Charlotte, and she’s an elderly Chihuahua. One would think he’d buy a French breed, but he found her out in the pouring rain one day and fell in love with her fluffy ears and spunky personality. She’s now 17 years old, extremely frail, missing most of her teeth, and extremely aggressive to anyone other than Spy, but he loves her dearly and pays for all of her medical expenses without batting an eye. And of course, she expresses her thanks with lots of kisses.

Spy loves dancing, and knows all kinds of dances, from flamenco to ballroom dancing to the Charleston to, canonically, disco. So of course, he’s dying to share all of the most romantic dances he knows with you. He’d love to actually teach you how to dance, rewarding you with kisses every time you finally get a move right and laughing softly when you make mistakes. But in reality, he just wants to use it as an excuse to dance with you against his chest and smother you in affection.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 x s/o #tf2 x y/n #tf2 x you #tf2 imagines #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy

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rawdogmeharry · 4 years ago

Note

Hey idk if you already have, but is there a continuation from Old Man ?! Do the handcuffs make an appearance ?👀👀

old bones [part 2 to old man]

or, the one where Harry’s older but still manages to break Y/N’s back like no other.

by popular demand, here is old man part 2!!! for part 2 I decided to be a horny bitch so I just spat out 3.9k words of smut SJNSUWNN hope ya’ll enjoy you horny sluts

oh btw, I posted my writing on wattpad as well!! if you prefer reading on there you can check out my profile @ igotzaddyissues, the book is the only one on my profile and it’s called ‘harry styles one shots’

requests go here:)

masterlist

•

"Are y'thirsty, baby?" Harry asks, plomping Y/N down onto the kitchen island on her bum and softly stroking his hands up and down her thighs.

"Can I have a water, please?" she rasps out, finding it kind of hard to speak after the inhuman moans and screams she‘d let out in the car on the way back home.

A very interesting ride back to their house. Interesting, indeed.

```

15 minutes earlier.

"Fuck, you look so hot spread out for me like that." Harry nearly moans, looking over at Y/N whilst trying to keep his eyes on the road.

She's sitting in the passenger seat of his Range Rover, her Louboutin clad feet planted firmly on the dashboard with her pants and panties thrown carelessly onto the backseat, as per Harry's request.

She’d quickly shed the clothes from her lower half as soon as Anne’s house was out of their peripheral vision and her fingers had gone straight to her pussy.

“Yes, like that, baby. Rub it slowly. Just like that.” Harry takes one of his hands off the wheel and slowly starts rubbing his hard cock through his pants, teasing himself by lightly feathering his pointer finger up and down the length of it.

Y/N softly groans, making a V out of her pointer and middle fingers, dragging them between her cunt lips and squeezing her clit with her knuckles when they pass it.

“Fuck, put a finger in y’little pussy and gimme a taste. Can’t wait any longer.”

Y/N slides one of her digits in and feels relief of finally having something inside her cunt, even if it’s just a finger. She thrusts it in and out a few times and leans over the center console to give it to Harry.

Harry takes his hand off his cock and grips Y/N’s wrist, keeping his eyes on the half empty highway and sucks her finger into his mouth. Immediately, he groans out an animalistic sound from the salty, yet citrusy taste of his lovie’s pussy, wanting nothing more than to drown himself in the taste.

He decides in that moment that if he was on deathrow and had to choose a last meal, he’d pick Y/N’s cunt.

Y/N takes her digit out of Harry’s mouth ,watching a strand of saliva connect it with his tongue. The saliva breaks when she gets it a far enough distance away from his mouth, and leans over once again to lick it off. Harry feels the wetness of Y/N's tongue on his chin, feeling the pointed tip drag up the little bit of saliva and collect it to her own mouth.

"Do I taste good, daddy?" she asks, looking up at him with little devils dancing in her eyes.

"You taste fuckin' amazing, baby. Gonna keep m'tongue in y'cunt for the rest of the night when we get home. Now sit back in y'seat. Don't want you flashin' anyone else but me."

Y/N listens to Harry and sits back down in her seat. She supposes they're acting kind of irresponsible right now. She's got no seatbelt on and keeps moving around the front of the car, distracting Harry from the road ahead, but her mind is clouded. The only thing on it in this exact moment is Harry and the thorough fucking she's going to get the moment they step foot into the house.

Harry is a responsible driver, she's learnt, and she knows if she was too distracting or he couldn't continue focusing on his driving, he wouldn't put either of their safety at risk and stop immediately.

"Did I tell y'to stop playin' with y'cunt? If you don't cum two times by the time we're home, you're gonna feel the punishment fo' three weeks."

Two times, Y/N thinks. Two times and they've nearly driven half of the way. She doesn't think she's gonna be able to do it, but fuck, she doesn't want to be punished. She's got yoga classes for the upcoming two weeks every morning and they're already paid for. She doesn't think it'd be very efficient to simply not go because of her bruised ass and thighs that shake everytime she stands up.

"Okay, daddy," she whines out and lifts her legs up to her chest, taking two fingers and rubbing them around her weeping hole, getting them wet. She slides them in and pumps them in and out, scissoring them periodically and feeling her heartbeat rapidly quicken.

"Fuck," Harry whispers. He returns his hand to his cock and rubs it in the same motions as before, but that doesn’t last very long because he decides he doesn’t want to feel his hand, he wants to feel Y/N’s tight, velvety pussy wrapped around his dick raw.

He can’t to it right now—well, technically he can, but that’s way too dangerous— so he chooses the next best thing.

He spits onto his middle and ring fingers, leans his arm over to where Y/N is slowly pumping her own with her head thrown back and eyes closed out of pleasure. Harry roughly takes her hand away from her cunt, and the moment she’s got her digits out from the force, Harry immediately has his spit soaked ones in.

And Harry doesn’t start slow, or stop to stretch her out atleast a little bit because his fingers are noticeably thicker and longer, but goes in straight for the little pot of gold—starts thrusting his fingers at the speed of light, rubbing the tips of them right at the spongy spot deep in her cunt and hearing the squishy sounds it’s making from progressively getting wetter.

“Fuck, Harry—oh my God,” Y/N squeals, not expecting something so intense to happen so fast. She starts holding onto the edge of the black leather seat for some sort of stability and feels the fire boiling at the pit of her stomach.

“Oh, fuck yeah. Y’like that? Daddy makin’ you feel good?” Harry indicates that he’s switching lanes and starts to get off the highway, their home getting nearer and nearer with each mile.

“Daddy, fuck—yes! Just like that, right there,” Y/N pants out, feeling so close to the edge but far away from letting go. She feels something else coiling somewhere deep in her body and she swears she’s never felt anything like it before. “Don’t stop, daddy, I’m so close.”

“I’m not stoppin’, baby. C’mon, let go. I’ve got you. Cum all over m’hand.” His fingers haven’t faltered a single move and the amount of Y/N’s juice dripping down his arm is incredibly hot.

“Fuck, I’m cumming!” Y/N screams out, fireworks dancing behind her closed eyelids and goosebumps littering the every patch of skin on her body.

She hears a loud gushing sound and something like liquid hitting surface. Y/N feels ten times lighter than before, but when Harry doesn’t stop the thrusting of his fingers she’s shaking all over again and feeling the same additional weight of something pressing down onto her and begging to come out.

“Oh, fuck, babygirl,” Harry moans and feels Y/N’s wetness trickling in little streams of droplets on his arm, wetting his shirt, the seat and reaching as far as the dashboard. “You just fuckin’ squirted, baby. Fuck, been keepin’ it in all night, huh? Gonna gimme some more?”

Y/N wants to feel embarassed but she can’t because it was so fucking hot. She knows she’s gonna go shy and her cheeks are going to blush everytime Harry mentions it, but right now she feels zero of the embarassment and all of the horniness.

“Fuck, y-yes daddy, I think I can,” her limbs are shaking as is her voice, and she definetely didn’t think she’d be able to cum twice during their drive home, but after feeling what she just felt, she’s starting to think it’s quite possible.

When Harry feels a cramp in his arm, he still doesn’t dare stop. Seeing Y/N squirt was the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen and he desperately wants to see it again.

He continues the fast pace of his fingers and feels his lovie shaking inside out. He literally feels vibrations coming from inside her cunt from the continuous stimulation he’s giving her right after her first orgasm. One down, one to go.

Y/N starts moaning obscene moans, briefly opening her eyes and seeing that they’re barely a mere two minutes away from their home. She actually starts screaming when Harry thrusts his fingers in an up and down motion, constantly rubbing on her spongy spot.

Harry’s really trying to concentrate on the road, but seeing his Y/N in the state she’s in is making his focus switch priorities—giving Y/N and her pleasure the first place.

Her eyes are watering once she opens them again, and when she looks over at Harry, the sight is what makes her break over the edge and start gushing all over the front of the car again—his jaw clenched tightly, a few veins looking more prominent on the side of his neck and the one hand on the wheel looking like her favorite necklace.

“Fuck!” she squeals, thrashing around in her seat and feeling tears of pleasure rolling down her face. “D-daddy, stop, I-I can’t anymore,” Y/N mutters out in a raspy voice, trying to close her legs and lock her thighs around Harry’s fingers which are just softly massaging her wetness around and into her pussy now. The overstimulation made her mind hazy, and she couldn’t tell you what 2+2 was right now if you asked. Although, the soft rubbing on her clit feels kind of relieving after the mind-shattering orgasm she just had, even if it makes her quiver all over.

“Tha’s m’good girl, baby. Did so well fo’ me. It’s okay, baby. We’re home now. Gonna take such good care of you, m’love,” Harry coos, feeling kind of smug after making his lovie squirt twice while also driving. He soothes her trembling body with sweet words and promises of taking care of her the moment he puts the car in park. The feel of her velvety cunt lips slick with her wet arousal on his fingers makes his cock throb so much that it hurts. But it hurts so good, he thinks.

Harry’s pulling into the driveway when he slowly drags his hand away from Y/N’s pussy. Once the car’s engine and his seatbelt are off, he leans to the glove compartment and takes out a pack of tissues he keeps in there. Taking one out, he tilts towards Y/N, “lemme clean y’up, baby.”

Y/N slowly spreads her legs and lets out a hushed hissing sound when Harry softly drags the tissue up the length of her cunt. Harry cleans her up with one hand and keeps the other on her knee nearest to him to keep her legs from shutting.

The whole time he whispers declarations of love and appreciation to Y/N and when he’s finished, Harry trails a path of kisses along her kneecap. He crumples up the used tissue and sets it in the cup holder as a reminder to not forget to throw it out.

Harry looks up into lovie’s eyes, “made a right mess of m’car, didn’t ya, kitten? Gonna have a hard time cleanin’ all f’this out.”

Having came down from one of the most intense orgasms she’s ever had, Y/N finally feels the embarassment creeping in on her. Her cheeks flush a rosy pink color and she instantly darts her eyes away from his.

“Hey, hey, hey, baby, look at me.” Harry coos and brings his hands up to cup her cheeks and angle her head his way so he can maintain eye contact, sensing the embarassment that’s radiating off of her, “nothin’ to be embarassed about. Tha’ was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in m’life. Y’looked so fuckin’ gorgeous. Gonna carry y‘up to the house and ravish you inside out all over again. M’cock’s so hard it hurts.”

Y/N feels a bit better after her boyfriend’s reassuring words, but still feeling a bit shy she just closes her eyes and presses their lips together as a silent ‘thank you for making me feel better after squirting all over your expensive as fuck Range Rover‘s leather interior‘.

But, then the fire in her shut eyes ignites all over again. She feels the heat travelling through her loins and every vein of her body as soon as Harry mentions ravishing her again. If she felt like she was high as fuck from cumming the first two times, she wonders what‘s going to happen once they step foot into their home.

Harry captures her bottom lip in between his own for a few moments before pulling back, “gonna give you y’pants, think you can put ‘em on? Nobody needs t’see your bare ass except me.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll manage.” Y/N smiles, gratefully accepting the article of clothing from his hands once he retreats it from the backseat. She watches Harry take out a few more tissues and start wiping down the dashboard, all the while slowly pulling up her pants with still subtly trembling hands.

Once they’re both finished with their jobs, Harry takes her small hands into his own, “let’s go, kitty. Can’t wait to see that all over again.”

He kisses her palms, each one three times, and taking the dirty tissues opens the car door and steps out. He quickly walks over to his lovie’s side opening the door for her and takes her hand in his helping her step out in her heels, like the true gentleman he is.

Once the door is shut, Harry locks the car and puts the key into his pocket. Then, before she even has a chance to take one step, he swiftly places one arm under her knees and the other on her back and and gracefully sweeps her off of the pathway, safetly locking her in in his arms.

She lets out a girlish squeal, clearly not expecting that at all and Harry just shushes her while quietly giggling himself at how fucking cute his girl is. “Don’t wake up the neighbours, baby. Be a gem an’ get the key out of m’back pocket, yeah? Feelin’ it against the left asscheek, I think.”

She’s still laughing to herself while reaching down his toned back and slipping her hand into the back pocket of his pants. She grabs ahold of the item and pulls it out, but not before giving his firm bum a nice good squeeze.

“Are y’gettin’ cheeky again, you little minx?”

```

Present time.

“Here y’go, lovie,” Harry hands her a glass of lukewarm water, (disgusting, he knows, but he figures she doesn’t need to be drinking cold water with the damage done to her vocal cords—which would only make it worse) resuming the calming strokes to her thighs.

She lets out a raspy moan at the soothing feeling of the water sliding down her throat, and even though there’s an irritating ache in it, water isn’t the only thing she wants down her throat.

“Thank you, Har.” She thanks him once the glass is empty, disposing of it onto the granite kitchen counter next to her. Placing her hands on his broad shoulders she leans in so close that their lips touch, “take me upstairs, please. Wan’t to squirt from y’cock now, daddy.”

Harry only smirks and connects their lips, setting his palms on her ass and lifting her up. Upstairs it is.

```

“Oh, fuck—Daddy.” Y/N moans out, throwing her head back and feeling her wrists rubbing against their restraints. She’s sure that by the end of the night, her wrists are going to be raw and red from the metal handcuffs ingulfing them.

As soon as Harry had brought her upstairs, he’d stripped her and himself of all and any scrap of clothing adorning their bodies. After that was done, he immediately marched over to the sidetable on his side, crouching down and opening the very last drawer which contained all of their goodies. Taking out their favorite pair of plain metal handcuffs and a peach colored buttplug, he’d instructed Y/N to lay down ass up head down on their bed, then secured the handcuffs on the lowest part of the wooden headboard once they were attached to her wrists.

He admired her curvy figure, back arched and ass slightly spread from the placement of her knees and appreciated the view for just a second. Thinking about how fucking lucky he was to find such a fucking beautiful angel all to himself to cherish and love for the rest of his life. Well, he hopes she‘ll stay for the rest of it. And he‘s got a ring for when he asks if she‘ll stay in another drawer.

Driven of off lust and love, that‘s how he ended up in his current position—licking lovie’s pussy from the back, massaging her engorged clit with the thumb on his left hand and ghosting the tip of his index finger of the right hand over her little pink asshole.

She’s shaking for the whoever knows which time this evening, shoving her head back into the pillows in front of her to silence her raspy groans. The neighbours hate them, she’s sure.

“Fuckin’ scream my name, baby,” Harry moans into the folds of her cunt, pulling back just a tad to mutter out ‘make sure everybody knows who the fuck you belong to’ and dives right back into the mission at hand. He did promise her to keep his tongue on her for the rest of their night. And Harry’s always a man of his word.

He then plunges his tongue into her dripping pussy hole a few times, moaning out at the divine taste, and after swirling around her arousal all over his taste buds, softly drags it up her taint and around her puckered ring.

“Oh-Oh my God!” Y/N squeals out, trying to scoot away from the immense pleasure but pathetically failing, the handcuffs keeping her in place.

Harry spreads her full asscheeks with his veiny hands, all the while feeling around the ridges and wrinkled edges of her asshole with his tongue. He can’t get enough of her, no matter where he tastes.

“Fuck, fuck—that feels so good, daddy,” she shudders when he dips the very tip of his pink muscle into her ass.

Harry makes his tongue go in an in and out motion, using that as a technique to stretch her out for the plug. Although it’s not a big one, she’s very tight in every hole. Especially her ass, though. That’s why Harry takes his time slowly pleasuring her with his tongue, then with his pointer finger just up to the first knuckle.

Once he finds that she’s stretched out enough for the buttplug, he pulls back, takes it with a firm grip and spits on it. Leaning down, he gathers up some more spit in his mouth and pushes it out slowly onto Y/N’s asshole. He watches as her fists clench in their confines and her face, which is now pressed sideways into a throw pillow, contorts to one of pleasure.

Slowly pushing the plug in with his hand, he grips his hard throbbing cock in the other and rubs it on her clit, making the initial stretch less uncomfortable for his lovie.

Y/N whimpers out a sound of pleasure when she feels the stimulation on her clit, and throws her mouth completely open once the buttplug is finally settled snugly in her ass.

“Fuck, y’look breathtaking like this. All spread out with y’ass full with m’cock rubbin’ on your pussy. All mine. Fuckin’ hell, y’ready baby?” Harry groans when he pushes the tip of his cock a teeny tiny bit of the way into her other hole.

“Yes! Fuck, daddy, m’so ready,” Y/N almost screams out. She can’t even think about being completly drained of energy only a mere half hour prior. Having squirted twice this evening, she feels as though she’s about to go five more times. And she can’t even be embarassed about it this time.

Harry groans out when he feels the ungodly tight sheath of Y/N’s pussy engulfing his cock. Giving her a few moments to adjust, he unhurriedly pulls out just so that the raspberry pink tip remains inside then pushes back in and repeats the process a few good times.

When Y/N feels Harry building up a steady pace, she feels the uncontrallable satisfaction spreading through her and taking over all common sense.

Harry starts hammering his hips into Y/N’s, holding onto her plushy love handles and using them as leverage. Gonna kiss those bruises tomorrow morning, he promises to himself silently. He watches as her ass shakes with every thrust, as do her thighs and the sight almost brings Harry to cumming prematurely.

The room fills with panting and groaning, the sounds of skin slapping together prominent. They both mewl out when her spreads her cheeks apart and wiggles the buttplug around a little.

The sensation brings Y/N so close to the edge that she almost bursts, but she’s stopped abruptly by Harry’s words.

“Don’t cum yet, baby. Just a few more moments. J-just a few. Fuck. Ask daddy if y’can cum, been such a good girl fo’ me, don’t ruin that now.”

Y/N curls her toes and feels a cramp coming onto her, but the feeling of her pending orgasm completely drowns out any other sensations. She makes fists out of her hands so hard that every single knuckle turns white. Her wrists are starting to burn from the constant rubbing of metal on her skin, but somehow that turns her on even more.

“Fuck, please, can I cum, daddy? Please, I-I can’t anymore. Gonna-”

“Fuck! Cum on my cock, baby,” Harry growls out and starts thrusting his pelvis at an unimaginable speed.

Y/N screams out and possibly blacks out for a few moments once she gets the okay to cum from Harry. She manages to squirt, although not as much as in the car, but still a fair amount. It soaks a good part of the sheets under her and when Harry moans ‘fuck, make a mess all over me, darling’, she knows she got some on him too.

When Harry sees the shaking back of his Y/N and feels the wetness of her orgasm soak the upper part of his thighs, he spills his load in multiple spurts deep in her cunt.

“Ugh, fuck. Yes, baby, keep squeezin’ your pussy.” He’s holding his hips still as he’s emptying out into Y/N, and she’s really grateful, because she doesn’t think she’d be able to bear more pleasure in this moment.

“Fuck,” she whispers when she feels Harry slowly pulling out and start rubbing her back in silent comfort.

“Did so fuckin’ well fo’ me, baby. M’so proud. Clench y’pussy, y’gonna keep m’cum inside of you ‘till morning. Gonna eat it all out for breakfast tomorrow, yeah? Keep it warm for me.”

The raunchy yet sweet words make Y/N’s cunt clench around air and she’s careful to not let any of his cum slip out.

As Harry’s unsnapping the handcuffs from her wrists and sotfly rubbing them carefully on the harsh red marks, he mutters out with a smile on his face, “ruined you pretty well, lovie, yeah? Don’t think an old man would’ve been able to do that.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfic #harry angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry #styles #one shot #imagine #fanfic

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gureishi · 4 years ago

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dude okay so this is kinda specific and also probably not very original or anything ekdbsisj

but-

how do you think saeyoung would react/feel if (during the apartment days), his MC started crying (or almost) after that one (or maybe two? cant remember, and im only halfway through day 7 on the current playthroygh) time where he just... got really mad n yelled... hhh his expression was scary,,

getting yelled out is already a lil agitating for me... and I know i would be automatically already a lil sensitive cos i would be nervous from the last few days (rsd would nerf me) -- meaning i would be a lil more emotional/easily affected than usual ;;;

on top of that ive never had a guy yell at me djvdjdj so it would be a lil scary, i wont lie.

wanna clarify: the crying wouldn't be on purpose lol, i would definitely try n hide it. easier said then done though... OTL

jsvfsh this is so long n specific n kinda personal to me?? im sure im not alone regarding the general idea though. anyways jdbdjs sorry lolol-

and im jus asking for your thoughts or maybe HCs? whichever you feel works best!

also sorry if we've talked about this before i have a bad memory-

[417]

btw ur amazing love u

Love you too dear Four! And oh boy do I relate to this. I do not handle being yelled at well and would, without a doubt, cry multiple times in this scenario (/ω＼)

Saeyoung reacting to his MC crying in the apartment

He’s never felt like this before. He sort of thought he’d been through it all: wrung every last bit of love and fear and desperation out of himself till there was nothing left but the things that make him useful: his clever hands and his brilliant (weary) mind.

When you speak to him so tenderly—hovering just at the edge of his space, eyes full of something he can’t (won’t) identify—he feels like his heart is too big for his body, and he can’t think straight, or see straight, or make his miserable mind form the words he needs to say to you.

He’s angry because he can’t understand why you’re gazing at him that way, like you’d do anything to ease the pounding in his skull; he’s angry because none of his words are getting through to you, and he doesn’t know how to make you understand that he’s not the person he made you believe he was. And he is angry because he knows, without a doubt, that he’s in far too deep already, and that if anything were to happen to you now, his desperate heart would break for good.

He knows how to lie (it is, in his opinion, the only real skill he has)—so he does. He tells you he wishes you’d leave him alone—tells you to stay away—tells you he feels nothing for you at all. He raises his voice (but oh, as the stinging words tear from his throat his heart wants to crawl out of his skin and throw itself into your arms).

You say nothing. Good, he thinks; and he forces his attention back to his screen (eyes blurry, hands shaking). He hears the sound of your footsteps as you retreat to the farthest corner of the apartment, and something inside him seems to go with you—since the very first time he heard your voice, he thinks, a part of him is always with you. With every day that goes by, that part gets bigger: soon, there will be nothing left of him at all.

With his eyes trained on the screen (and most of his attention on you), he hears the tiny sounds you’re making: shifting, he thinks at first, getting comfortable. Maybe even going to sleep.

But no: you are so quiet only somebody with senses that have been heightened from years of training (years of hiding, and fleeing, and fighting for his life) would hear. But there’s a whimper—a vague, almost indistinct sniffling.

Oh no. Oh god.

Oh god oh god oh god.

Years of agency training have taught him to turn his back on people who are begging, or whining, or crying—but he’s never been any good at it.

And this is you: and his scrambled mind races, his heart drumming so loud against his ribs he is sure you can hear it. He would, he thinks wildly, do absolutely anything in the world to never hear you make such a miserable sound again.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, he stands. The room spins; he’s weak, and hungry, and angry, and scared; his stomach is in knots and the darkened room seems to tilt sideways around him.

You don’t seem to have noticed that he’s moved; you’re hiding your face in your shirt, back turned to him—and you are still (so very still). He doesn’t remember how to breathe.

“Uh...” he says, and the sound echoes horribly in the dull, sparsely furnished room. You say nothing. He clears his throat, takes an unsteady step toward you. He’s not thinking rationally anymore—not thinking about scaring you off, or keeping you safe. All he wants is to see that look in your eyes again: that soft one, the one that makes his hands and feet feel too big and his skin seem to burn and his breath catch in his throat.

“Are, uh...are you okay?” he rasps. You’re still ignoring him, which is a first; your face is turned away, so he goes to your side, kneeling on the floor beside you. You sniffle. He feels like his heart is going to burst.

“Yeah,” you say—and unlike him, you are not such a good liar. Without meaning to, he reaches for you: finds his fingers (of their own accord) doing what they’ve been itching to do since the moment he first laid eyes on you. He touches your hair—brushing it off your face, tucking it behind you ear.

Your eyes, he thinks (fiercely, irrationally): he needs to see your eyes.

“Don’t believe you,” he says. With a sigh of exasperation, you turn to him: oh, and your eyes are blazing, red-rimmed. And he is the one who has done this to you—he is the monster who has made you suffer.

His mind seems to have driven itself into the ground. Suddenly, he can’t remember how to do anything at all.

But his body moves of its own accord, because his heart has always been eons ahead of his (brilliant and foolish) mind.

“Hey,” he finds himself murmuring, brushing your cheek with his rough fingertips (and he knows he shouldn’t, but now that he’s here, he is finding it almost impossible to resist). “I know,” he says, without even quite understanding what he means. “I know.”

You watch him; and there it is again—just for a moment, that softness deep in your eyes that sets him on fire.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the words springing to his lips before his brain can get in his way. “I’m so, so...I didn’t mean to...I never...”

You shake your head, and your hair falls into your eyes again. He brushes it back, finding that there is nothing—nothing—in the world quite as wonderful as the feeling of your warm skin under his fingers.

“I get it,” you tell him. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“I can’t...” He makes himself take a deep breath, and regrets it instantly as his senses are flooded by the warm, enticing scent of you. He feels you all around him now. “I didn’t mean it,” he says quietly. “Please. I can’t stand to see you making that face.”

You force a watery laugh, and the effort you are making for him is almost too much. His mind races. For a moment, he imagines how it would feel to wrap your small body in his arms—to press his lips to your temple and feel your heart beating against his skin.

“How’s this?” you say. You offer him a passable impression of a smile, and he wants to throw himself at your feet.

“Terrible,” he says. You laugh, and it sounds a tiny bit more believable this time. You are looking at him, and there it is again: that softening in your eyes that makes him think (just for a moment) that there could be a happy ending for him after all.

“I...” he starts. What? He can’t tell you how he feels—what he wants—what he is afraid of. Not here. Not now. Not yet. “Please,” he finds himself whispering. “Can you...just give me a little more time?”

You nod, and there is a strength in you that nearly knocks him off his feet.

“Yeah,” you say: and this time you sound like you mean it.

Against his will, he pushes himself up—makes his way back to his miserable little corner of the room. But he pauses—turns—and you are still waiting, still watching him. Of course you are.

“I’m gonna make it right,” he says, not quite meeting your eyes. Never, he thinks: he will never ever make you cry again.

“I believe you,” you say.

It is the first time anyone has ever told him this.

His heart shivers.

“I won’t let you down,” he says—promises. He means it with all his heart.

#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #707 #headcanons #asks #417 #fwends 🥺#<3 <3 <3

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ff-imagines · 3 years ago

Note

Can i request some nsfw headcanons for mantis shrimp? I read through your blog and let me just say: I'm a big fan. Btw if you dont wanna do them thats fine as well

Salt and pepper shrimp: nsfw alphabet

I did the whole alphabet bc? Why not! Side note I rly wanna write a fic going off my thoughts ab his experience level >:)

A - aftercare

Look, getting him to release you from his hold to go to the bathroom on a regular night is a battle enough. After sex? Phew I wish you luck. Might wanna just put some water on your night stand beforehand. You would be able to convince him to take a bath with you pretty easily though, he likes how the warm water feels very much. Make sure to cuddle him in the bath still, he's in a very vulnerable state right now and he really needs some good old tlc.

B- body parts

he’s got a weird fixation with your hands. He likes to compare hand sizes, whether your hands are bigger or smaller isn’t what he likes, he just likes to admire them. He loves sucking/biting your fingers while he’s got you in his lap. Lacing your fingers with his with one hand while bringing the other to his cheek, nuzzling into your hand while he bounces you on his cock.

On himself, there is tragically little that he genuinely likes. He views himself as a weapon, getting him to unlearn that will not be an easy process, trust me, Boston has tried. Complimenting his eyes does seem to make him a little more flustered than other praises, and he has a hard time staring you in the eye during sex…. maybe we can start there.

C - cum

His cum is pretty thin but there’s a shit ton of it. Enough that if he cums inside you swear you can feel the warmth as his cock pours rope and rope of his seed into you.

He doesn’t actually care where he cums, just ask him and he’ll comply.

inside you? sounds good.

On your back? Say less.

On the floor? You’re cleaning it, but sure.

He did discover he’s got an affinity for watching his cum on your tongue. I don’t know how you’d be able to swallow it all, but any attempt you make will be met with shrimp getting hard all over again.

D - dirty secret

He secretly thinks it’d be really hot for you to dom him. It’s gonna take a very long time before he’s comfortable letting you have that Linda control over him, just the thought of being tied up, hands behind his back while you praise him for being such a good boy, its a fantasy he’s visited on many sleepless nights.

E - experience

Nope. Nada. To be frank, I think he’s the definition of Demisexual, and he has yet to meet anyone besides Boston and the anti-human gang who he genuinely wants to get to know better. He definitely hasn’t met anyone who wants to get to know better for romantic reasons.

He doesn’t know enough about human customs to know that it can be embarrassing for someone to be inexperienced, but he does feel very very nervous the first few times. He’ll need a lot of reassurance, give him praise and he’s putty in your hands.

F - favorite position

I'm gonna be boring and say missionary. It’s simple, easy, and since he’s brand new to all of this it’s the least mentally overstimulating. He very much likes that he can see your face.

If he’s feeling extra spicy he might grab onto the inside of your knees and push you into the mating press, though he really only does this if he’s upset or jealous.

If you ask nicely he might let you sit in his lap, as a treat. Bouncing on his cock as he litters your chest with bite marks, what a treat it is <3

G - goofy

…. yea for sure definitely. He’s a real jokester.

On a serious note, he himself is not a goofy person whatsoever, but he would actually like it if you were. Outright making fun of him or harsh teasing is an immediate turn off, but light jokes to ease his nerves is for sure welcomed since he’s very tense the first few times.

Give him time and you might even catch him cracking a small joke himself, all the while giving you a weak, nervous smile.

H- hair

He doesn’t trim or shave anything lmao. He’s busy, and also doesn’t care literally at all. He’s got a thin happy trail that can be easy to miss since he's blonde.

He’s got the same energy with your body hair, he doesn’t care. If you do shave he might ask why, just out of curiosity. If your reason is insecurity, he’ll probably suggest you let it grow, he doesn’t care and he’s the only one who’ll ever see it lmao

I- intimacy

It’s an awkward “i hope to fuck I’m doing this right” kind of intimacy. He fumbles and messes up a lot, he might even accidentally miss when thrusting and end up just kinda rubbing himself on you but he’s really trying. Just from the fact he’s willing to try this at all with you is a big sign that he’s really trying his best to be as intimate as he can with you.

J- jerk off

Before meeting you, not a lot actually. He mostly just did it if he ever woke up from a wet dream and knew that if he didn’t take care of it now he’d never be able to get back to sleep.

After your first time together, his first time, he thinks back the immeasurable pleasure a lot, finding himself in need of relief a lot more than he ever did before. You are the catalyst to his drive, and you are also the only thing he can think about that can help him cum. It’s kinda sweet in a perverted way.

K- Kinks

He will bite you. It’s just so easy to bruise you and it makes your relationship status to others so obvious, he can’t just… not bite you.

Marking, going along with the biting kink. This goes both ways, he’d love for you to scratch at his back enough to leave red marks, to bite as his collarbone, grip his hips tight enough to bruise. He likes looking at the marks later, they remind him that he did good, he made you feel good, that’s all he really wants.

He doesn’t exactly have a breeding kink as much as this goes along with the marking aspect. Suggest to him that he cum deep inside you to mark your insides… he might give you 2-3 loads just to make sure you're nice and full, completely claimed.

He also kinda likes to make you cry. Overstimulating you to the point of tears gives him a sense of pride he hasn’t really felt before.

He really likes temperature play as well, dragging ice cubes and hot wax across your skin and watching you flinch and squirm just does something to him.

And of course, light bondage. He probably found out it was a thing after reading some kinda erotic fiction and immediately went to you like “why did you not tell me about this?????” He adores how to look all tied up and stuck, right in the palm of his hands. It makes him feel emotional as well, that you’re willing to give him such a powerful amount of control over you.

Last but not least, please praise him. During sex as well as day to day. Let him know he’s so pretty, he’s doing so good, he’s cock feels so so good, he might cum on the spot.

L- location

The first time he’d really need it to be in a secluded, safe area. He’s gotta feel comfy if he’s gonna get into the mood.

Every other time? Babes you’ve awakened a beast, he’ll get random spikes of “if I don’t at least try to fuck them I will scream”. You could be in the middle of a forest running from an axe wielding murderer and this horny bastard would still find a way to pull you aside and rail you against a tree.

There most likely isn’t a spot in your home that he hasn’t fucked you against.

Peaceful moment of washing dishes? Think again, he’s plopping you on the kitchen counter and diving to mouth at your neck.

Writing some papers? Just sit on his lap, you’ll feel much less stressed with his cock buried to the hilt, won’t you?

Doing laundry? Might have to rewash them cause now he’s using the clothes as a bed to fuck you on. He’ll apologize and help you fold them after they’re rewashed bc he feels bad lmao

M- motivation

Like I said, he’s set off by the smallest things. A little stretch, wiping some water off on your pants, humming a song, all of it can randomly make him feel the need to fuck you.

The most intense and quickest way to rile him up is either playing with his hair, or massaging his back. It starts out innocent but he just can’t take the thought of your pretty hands working so lovingly and not at least trying to reciprocate and make you feel good too.

N- no

No sharing. He doesn’t want someone else to see you, and he doesn’t want someone else to see him. It’s just not something he likes.

He also hates humiliation. He… would tolerate it if you asked for it, even if he doesn’t get why you’d want him to outright insult you. But for himself? Fuck no, he hates it so fuckin much. He’s a sensitive insecure puppy that wants your attention very badly, pls don’t hurt him like that :(

O- oral

Oh please give him oral. He’s begging. Well, he’d never outright beg but the way his eyes fixate on your mouth a lot is his way of silently pleading for you to wrap your lips around his cock. His soul ascends a little every time he sees his cum dribbling down your face, he might be even willing to make out with his cum still on your tongue.

As for giving, he’s got no clue what the hell he’s doing but he’s nervously eager to try. Guide him as best you can, he’s good at measuring your reactions so he can handle the rest. Tug on his hair a little bit if you wanna drive him crazy.

He’ll get a lot better with time, his eagerness to please however, does not leave him in the slightest.

P- pace

The first time? Slow and unsure, then he realizes “oh fuck this feels stupid good” and his pace becomes almost punishing. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, he’s unknowingly going deeper and harder than you've ever been dicked down in your life. If you want him to, somehow, go harder? Grab his hand and place it over your stomach to make him feel his cock enter you through your skin, his hand slides down to grip your hips and slams into you, wiggling his hips without withdrawing to gain some of his sanity back before he’s back to a punishing pace.

Q- quickies

Oh hell yea. He lives for them. Sudden moments of horniness come to him all the time and since this spike in desire is brand new, he hasn’t really… learned to live with it yet. He pulls you aside into closets and alleyways all the time, he can’t help that you feel so warm and snug :(

R- risk

He doesn’t exactly enjoy the thought of a voyeur, he really doesn’t want to share you with anyone. But… there is a deeper part of him that finds a sense of pride if someone were to hear you getting absolutely pounded by him, desperately crying out and whining for him to go deeper, even better if they were someone who pined for you….

S- stamina

Well, to be frank he cums pretty quickly. It’s all so brand new to him, he really can’t help it. Lucky for you, his refractory time is crazy low. He can cum once, watch you do some mindless motion you always do and he’s right back to being hard again in minutes.

T- toys

Not against it, but is again, brand new to all this shit. He’s very interested in using your own toys against you though. Would definetly use a vibrater to edge and overstim you. He’d be interested in a cock ring, only if you were willing to endure a vibrator while he fucks you, he doesn’t wanna be the only one struggling lmao

U- unfair

He can be, yea. He kinda likes edging you, but not as much as he likes overstimulating you.

He loves to hear how you beg under him when he’s pulling you so close to the edge, keeping you just far enough to drive you insane.

Overstimming though? The way you twitch and beg, how your chest heaves and your mouth hangs open into a silent scream, eyes shut tight and watering, now that’s the good shit.

V- volume

Doesn’t talk much, but for sure gives out a lot of groans. This is something he’s never felt before in his life, the first few times you're going to get a lot of whines and surprised yelps, check up on him and make sure he’s still doing alright, he’s just very nervous.

As he gets more comfortable, he gives you quiet praises and promises to make you feel good. He also groans quite a lot, but since his voice is deeper it can be hard to catch.

W- wild card

He really wants to try using his prosthetic arm for temperature play, he’s just not at all confident in himself enough to bring it up. He likes the thought of you jumping and squirming under his touch, for now he can just stick to wax play.

X- X Ray

Mans is actually pretty fuckin big. He’s got no idea how big he is though. If you were surprised and a little nervous about his size he’d be pretty confused, is there something wrong? Did you change your mind? The concept of him being well above average is something you’ll have to explain later. It boosts his ego quite bit, even if he’d never admit it.

Whine about him being too big and you can just see the pride swelling in his chest, giving you no mercy with his thrusts.

Y- yearning

Often. Very very often. He’d fuck you multiple times every day if he had the time. However, you’re both busy, and you’d probably get a UTI with how many times this man wants to dick you down lmao. He’s got his cock buried in you at least 4-5 times a week.

Z- zzz

Actually pretty quickly. Even if he prefers being in control during sex, he kinda likes being the little spoon as he drifts to sleep. Give him some soft praises about how well he did and he’s turning into jello in your hold.

#food fantasy #food fantasy x reader #ff salt and pepper shrimp #ff salt and pepper shrimp x reader

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somefandomimagines · 4 years ago

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EHEM, HEARD YOU OPENED REQUESTS. CAN I KINDLY REQUEST A DSMP!TOMMY X READER ANGST FIC??? (Can be Platonic or Romantic, idk your boundaries with this lol)

ANYWAYS Like idk, the idea has to do with the whole “he died” thing and Reader is just trying to understand that Tommy is dead when suddenly BAM Tommy goes inside his house to find Reader all depressed and sad and just IDK

(Feel free to ignore this if you don’t wanna do it btw, do as you please with this request, I’m a fanfiction writer as well and I know some requests are just boring lol)

YESSS LET’S GOOOO! SOME ANGST AND FLUFF! I FUCKING LOVE HURT/COMFORT IT MAKES ME THRIVE!! Also sorry, I don’t really write full fanfics but I will write it in more of a bullet-point format bc it’s easier for my lil pea brain! The reader will be ftm in this, only slight mentions of it tho- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TW!! MENTIONS OF DEATH AND OVER-BINDING! - “Tommy is dead, (y/n).” - Those were words that poor reader never wanted to hear - His mind honestly just... Shut down - Was this real? Was this a dream? - “No... No he can’t be, he promised me that he wouldn’t...” - Our of everyone in this world? You were the closest to Tommy - Well, you and Tubbo, but you and Tommy had a different kind of friendship - It wasn’t just something goofy and happy, but it ran deep - “I’m sorry...” - That was all Sam could say - You oh so remember the tone of voice he had - It was something that couldn’t leave your mind - Something that would never leave your mind because of the feeling it brought. - Dread. - Despite the wars, despite losing your pet to Sapnap - You’ve never felt such... Dread - Emptiness - It was intense. - The world started to spin, your mind failing to comprehend that Tommy was gone - Tommy... He was gone... - No. No he couldn’t be - So with that, without answering, you just ran - You ran as fast as you could to the prison - The cursed place that held Tommy and that.. Monster - You couldn’t even refer to Dream as a human anymore - Sam chased after you, trying his best to catch up but... When you’re determined, you could outrun anyone - As you made your way there, the prison just in your view - Sam had caught up with your tired form and held you back - You yelled and kicked, trying to break free of his grasp but.. - You just couldn’t - “LET ME GO! SAM PLEASE!” - It broke Sam’s heart to see you like this - But for now he just had to apprehend you... Get you away from the prison Fuckin’ time skip - Everyone was worried when they stopped hearing from you - Where had you gone? - The news must have taken a huge toll on you, Puffy especially knew this - But they knew that you needed time to think... - Or at least they had thought - You needed someone - You hated being alone and only Tommy knew that - You needed a hug, a shoulder to lean on - You needed help - But you were left alone - You needed someone - But.. Where were you now? - You were currently at Tommy’s place - One of the last places you got to see him before.. Yeah.. - You were always here, disappearing in a place that used to bring you fond memories - Alone - Despite you needing someone - You couldn’t bring yourself to ask - It was windy this day, clouds fogging up the light that the sun had to bring - (e/c) eyes gazing out the window as your breaths were shallow - You hadn’t taken care of yourself - It was plain to see - You barely ate, drank, etc... - You hadn’t taken off your binder either. - You ignored the approaching foot steps that you heard, knowing that it would just be someone else that would walk past. Someone that would think you needed to be alone... - Or did you know? - The foot steps stopped right behind you, confusion and curiousity making you turn around to face the figure... - “... (Y/n)..?” - He hadn’t expected you to be here - The last place he would look for you - The sight was worrying... - You looked tired.. You looked depressed - Blue eyes met with your (e/c) ones - “...” - “..” - “.” - “T... Tom...Tommy....?” - Your voice was weak - You hadn’t spoken in days except for when tears would cascade down your face - But... - Was this real? - “‘Ey, buddy...” - Tommy looked worried - But why? - Oh wait... You WERE covered in dirt - That was another story - But the dirt didn;t stop you from gently cupping Tommy’s face - You didn’t know if this was real or not... - But when warm skin connected with your cold hand, you couldn’t resist bringing Tommy into a tight hug - This shocked Tommy - I mean, everyone else acted so... Distant... Except for Quackity, he just.. He was Quackity - The shock didn’t last for long as he hugged you back, his grip just as tight as yours - He was back - Your Tommy was back... ANOTHER TIMESKIP OK TO MORE HPAPY TIMAS? What the fuck did I just type - “(Y/N) STOP IT” - “NAAAAH” - You lost your shit as you saw the look on Tommy’s face, his hair damp from the water you had just splashed on him - “Oh, come here you mother- FUCK” - “FUCKIGMSDOFHG” - Tommy had tried to run to you despite the water being knees deep where he had been (You were just ankle-deep)... Which caused him to topple over, bringing you down with him - As you both recovered from that.. Sudden event, Tommy stared at you... - “Did you just fucking verbally key-smash?” - “I dunno, did I?” - “STOP BEING SNARKY YOU LITTLE BITCH-” Ok now happey IM SORRY THIS IS LIKE- SO SHIT BUT I HAVEN’T TAKEN MY MEDICINE IN DAYS LORD HELP

#tommyinnit #dream smp #hurt/comfort #shitty #tommyinnit x reader #ftm reader #angst #comfort #happey

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obeiii-mee · 4 years ago

Note

How will the bros react to MC self-doubting themselves? Like saying bad things about them or can't be serious someone give them compliment.

Supportive demon bois coming right up! Sorry I took so long to write this anon! Thank you so much for the ask! (Also, thank you all for the love on my previous posts!)

————————————

The Brothers with an MC who self doubts themselves:

Lucifer:

-As the embodiment of pride itself, Lucifer has an overwhelming amount of confidence, almost all the damn time

-So, he was flabbergasted to learn that you weren’t the same

-He always insisted that you aren’t anything but perfect, yet you always seemed to brush the compliments off with a shrug and an awkward smile

-Well, shit, we can’t have that

-Lucifer just got 10x more serious about the matter

-He pulls a really stupid concerned face whenever you insult yourself and he looks more and more like a 48 year old man/dad each time it happens

-He, as of late, increased the number of pet names he has for you and the amount of compliments he gives you each day

-He refuses to let you talk badly about yourself anywhere, at any point in time and encourages every little step you take towards bettering yourself like crazy

- Lucifer wants to prove to you that you are an absolute ray of sunshine and he will go to any lengths to do just that (do not ask)

-He’s even more affectionate than usual which confuses just about everyone in the House of Lamentation, yourself included

-His brothers are feeling a disturbance in the force and they don’t know how to feel about it

-You are possibly the best thing that’s happened to him since he fell as angel and Lucifer is ready to do whatever he can to help you realise that

Mammon:

-“You’re an idiot!”

-“*Sigh*, I know.”

-“Wha-Wait! Y-you can’t say thAT!”

-The Great Mammon is seriously worried about his human

-Being the dense motherfucker he is (i still love him tho) it took him weeks to realise you’re not all that confident in yourself

-At some point in your relationship, he jokingly called you annoying and you just went “Yeah I’ve been told. Sorry.”

-His jaw literally dropped and he almost cried

-He would have choked if he was drinking something

-Tsundere Mammon has gone bye bye and here comes the cuddling teddy bear that is your boyfriend

-He also doesn’t have as much self love for himself as he sometimes pretends to have so he’s kinda in the same boat

-Which means your boat is leaking and you’re perfectly fine with it while he’s panicking and trying to throw water overboard with his hands

-His brothers call him an idiot a lot but he’s a very sociable guy with people skills that he uses all the time in order to coax you out of your self pitiying shell

-Will whine every time you call yourself ‘useless’ or disagree with his compliments because what the hell, you’re literally the most gorgeous being ever let me love youuuu

-When it comes to you and your happiness, he ain’t fucking around. He will snarl at anyone that even looks at you in the wrong way

-Did that to Lucifer once, guess a what happened

-You’ve definitely helped him come to terms with the fact that he is loveable and not a good for nothing scum

-So now it’s your turn!

-Let him kiss your insecurities away please

-Your presence makes him feel wanted so he wants the same for you!

Levi:

-Well then

-It takes two to tango ya know?

-He is the KING of self loathing and no confidence whatsoever in anything he does so every time you put yourself down, he counters it with a self deprecating insult as well

-“I suck.”

-“Nah, you’re pretty awesome normie. I’m the shut in, disgusting otaku who can barely set foot outside his bedroom without having an anxiety attack.”

-It’s like you’re trying to outdo the other on who is worse

-Truth is, he really admires you, especially knowing you chose to date him; an anime nerd with no social life and no communication skills whatsoever

-It hurts a bit, every time he builds up the courage to actually compliment you and you not taking it seriously

-That’s because he recognises that he’s the same and just as harsh on himself as you are

-Levi knows self hatred is something that takes time to demolish

-But you are his Henry after all (also his partner but whatevs)

-He’s not gonna leave you hanging when you need him the most

-He also gradually stops calling you a normie as your relationship progresses, though it still slips through every now and again

-Basically, the first time he realised that you think negatively of yourself, his immediate reaction was: Haha lmao relatable

-But now, every time it happens, he gets all serious

-Puts his controller down and everything, it’s like witnessing a very rare phenomenon and it’s creepy as shit

-He’s also made an effort to be more physically affection though he is kinda shy about it because damn it he just wants to hug you every time you speak badly of yourself

-Probably writes a list at some point stating all the reasons why you are better than him and Ruri chan combined, it’s rlly sweet

Satan:

-He’s a bit curious as to where that mentality has come from

-What triggered you to be so self doubtful?

-He’s basically your psychotherapist and asks you a lot of questions trying to find different causes and solutions for your issues

-Honestly, he puts so much effort into trying to understand, reading books about it from the human realm and whatever he can find in order to help you

-He scrunches up his nose every time you call yourself an idiot or anything of the sort

-Satan knows that insisting you’re wonderful won’t exactly help you overcome this problem of yours

-But that doesn’t stop him from doing it

-It’s not like you can ignore his comments because he will keep complimenting you until you accept them

-He also repeats a lot of pick up lines but that’s just part of being his partner

-What do you mean you’re worthless?!! He would literally give away all of his books and his hatred for Lucifer in exchange for your well being!

-Satan is possibly the smartest out of all of his brothers, so he uses a tactical approach on this one

-Direct affectionate gestures don’t work on you so he’s gonna be more subtle

-Would slightly hint that you are amazing every time you do something for him, like fetching him a book or something

-“Ah thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you love.”

-He’s a lot smoother than he gives himself credit for

-He just appreciates your existence and that there’s someone out there that he doesn’t need to be act hostile or fake toward

-Satan is ready to sit down and listen to you talk about your insecurities for hours on end

-You would quietly say something bad about yourself and he would run through the House of Lamentation before bursting into the room you are in, shouting ‘No! That’s wrong!’ (going Danganronpa on your asses)

-“Welp, I fucked up again. I can’t do anything right.”

-And then, in the distance you hear boss music starting

Asmo:

-*Shocked Gasp*

-How could you say such things about yourself???? Is that even leGAl?

-Of course, the literally prince of Lust, with all of his narcissism, has never experienced things like ‘self doubt’ of ‘bad self esteem’

-Pfft, the fuck is that?

-He only uses the most positive of words when he describes himself

-So obviously he almost falls off the bed when he hears you insulting yourself for the first time

-But ya know, that would leave bruises on his beautiful skin

-“Oh darling, you’re not annoying or a moron! You’re not anything like Mammon!”

-That was a below belt fatal hit, press f in the chat for the second eldest

-At some point, he just genuinely believes you’ve been spending too much time with Levi and that his negativity started rubbing off on you

-But then you tell him you’ve always been like this and he almost has a crisIS

-He’s like ‘Haha, no, we’re going to get a spa day out tomorrow and a few shopping sprees so I can prove to you that you are magnificent in every way imaginable.’

-Asmo loves pampering you in general but on the days he sees you feeling extra sorry for yourself, he goes above and beyond

-Gets very hurt when you brush off his compliments because he just wants you to accept the fact that you’re beautiful

-He’s like a supportive mom lmao, whenever you’re feeling self doubtful, he goes “You’re doing great sweetie, keep it up I’m really proud of you.”

-It’s up to you to decide whether that helps or not

-He’s such a sweetheart in reality, it’s hard to remember that he’s supposed to be horny all the time

-Well he is but that’s not the point, you’re way more important

-Asmo is so much fun to write cuz I can make him so dramatic it’s hilarious

Beel:

-Oh no :(

-He gets very sad everytime you self deprecate yourself

-You can’t do it with him in the room because he’s going to start crying and give you this kicked puppy stare, it will break your heart

-Beel kinda comes over and goes “If I give you some of my food will you please stop saying bad things about yourself? Because it’s not true.”

-Well you can’t say no to that face

-He feels like it’s his fault you’re this self doubtful even though you’ve tried to explain to him you’ve always been like this

-He goes crying to his twin half the time because he doesn’t know what to do

-“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to drop it! Fucking hell, I’m such a fucking klutz.”

-“Sniffle no you’re not.”

-He’s like, giving you large portions of his food now

-Because food makes him happy so he wants you to be happy too

-🙂

-His brothers go in shock every time because the only other person Beel has ever shared his food with before was Belphie

-Physical affection goes through the roof with this guy

-Bone crushing hugs btw

-Your self worth is so immeasurable with him, you can’t even measure it

-W h o a

-I’m being serious, don’t talk badly about yourself in front of him unless you want to be hugged into next week

-You are a literal angel in his eyes, of course he thinks highly of you

-He’s just hoping his presence isn’t making your self esteem worse, that’s the thing that keeps him up at night

-Idk why but he does think that he is a bad influence on your mental well being since he’s a demon

-Beel gives you compliments all the time and it confuses him when you laugh them off uncertainly because he wasn’t joking or lying??

-He’s always supportive of your choices and encourages you to be more confident

-The same way you show your support everytime you come to his games to cheer him on

-Overall, he just wants you to feel special and appreciated

-Because you deserve it

-IneedmyselfaBeel

Belphie:

-He feels like absolute shit

-Becuase he’s well aware he‘s called you a few...not so nice words in the past

-Back then, he only thought he meant everything he said but now that he’s hearing you accept his insults and actually repeating them yourself?

-It hurts his brain and he wants to smash his head against all four walls of the room for being such a cretin

-You do tell him it’s not exactly his fault you think so badly of yourself

-But he still believes he fueled it

-So now he needs to fix it

-He’s tried everything and I mean everything

-It’s kinda working, slow progress is made which he’s really happy about but you know, it’s gonna take a while

-He finally settles on physical affection as the best way to communicate his gratefulness for you being youself

-Oh, he wasn’t hugging you before? He is now, get your ass next to him and let him cuddle you

-Handholding has increased by 69% in the last month, sorry for the loss of your right hand with how much he squeezes it

-Sometimes, he can’t help but a throw an insult at you in a playful manner, because he’s an asshole

-But he always makes sure you understand that he was just joking

-He’s such a little shit, you would be having a chat with him and you would subtly drop a insult at yourself hoping he wouldn’t notice

-But then he stops dead in his tracks, kisses you, says “Shut up, you’re stunning” and then he goes right back to the previous conversation like nothing happened

-Accept his compliments damn it otherwise he will continue to bug you about it for the rest of the day

-He’s an eboy and he’s a dickhead a times, but he just goes soft for you tbh

-If you’re feeling really bad about yourself, he won’t even say anything

-He will just big spoon you for the next 24 hours, good luck going to the bathroom or any meals during that time

-Because once you’re in his grip, you’re not getting out that easily

-He gets so pissy if anyone says something even slightly negative about you to your face

-One time, a random demon called you stupid in one of the classes at RAD and he was like ‘bïtch excuse me what?’

-Snapped his head around at him and everything

-He would have done something worse but he was lazy and feeling really petty

-So Belphie kicked him in the privates from under his desk like a damn spoiled brat

-And then he turned his head back to you, all smiles and rainbows and puppies

-I’m simping so hard for a fictional character wtf

-I had to write more protective Belphie cuz I can’t find anything of the sort anymore and I need flUFF

(Haha, I don’t know what this post is, my writing has officially taken a shit lmao. Sorry this took so long to finish, I kept going back to edit all of them)

Al~

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #⭐️ requests #🌸 comfort #☂️ demon brothers

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rintarous · 5 years ago

Note

since ur angsty text BROKE my tiny heart (which it was rlly good btw good job 👏) how about some cuddling hcs with ur favorite bnha boys 🥺👉👈

a/n: i hope this fixes ur broken heart that i caused 😔 i got too carried away with kiri bc kiri rights kiri bEST BOY p.s kaminari’s hc turned into PG 13 im sorry 😔

bakugo katsuki:

this mf right here

he’s that rough cuddler

cs mans never cuddled in his LIFE

and also the fact he’s a big ass tsundere

he’d probably give in once you hit the puppy eyes on him

which he can’t resist btw even if he won’t admit it

at first he’d be literally so stiff like kirishima’s quirk

and grunts every now and then

but as your cuddle sessions turned into weekly sessions which then turns into daily sessions,,,

he’d grow use to it and be the softest human alive

probably takes it up a notch and tell you to just lie down on his chest instead of being cuddled up to his side

!! HE’S BIG ON RUBBING CIRCLES ON YOUR SKIN !!

like at some point in your cuddle sesh, expect this boi to rub circles on your back, your sides, ANYWHERE HE CAN GET HIS HANDS ON

which lulls you to sleep if you’re being honest ,,,

he’d be like: huh??? once you stop babbling about your day

and he looks down at you to find you sleeping peacefully

he has this satisfied smirk on his face

and don’t tell anyone but he steals a kiss every once in a while when he knows youre knocked out cold

he doesnt want you to know he’s just too soft for you and tease the living daylights out of him

uwu

todoroki shoto:

another mf who can’t cuddle to save a life

as someone who,,,, didn’t experience much affection at all

he’d be clueless on what to do

so i believe he’d be the small spoon when you two just started cuddling

mans would literally FREEZE in your arms, not knowing what to do in this position

but he really likes the feeling of his hair being brushed away

he’s just a kitty stuck in a human body alright !!!

he’s kinda stoic and not keen into showing emotions but you can feel the love radiating off of him

and once he finds the courage, he looks up at you saying “can i try being the big spoon?”

AND UR HEART DID FLIPS

ur brain: ADSJKHDADUAHDAJAKJA

and just like bakugo, he’d be stiff and doesnt know what to do

as he is pretty dense at everything

and you just tell him to relax and be comfortable at what hes doing

and sooner or later, he’d get the hang of it

when it’s cold outside, you cuddle to his left side

and when it’s hot, to his right side

most of the time tho, you’d cuddle up at his right side

cs you like it cold

overall, he’d be an okay cuddler

and because of this, you prefer to be the big spoon

A+ for effort tho

uwu

kirishima eijiro:

AH YES KIRISHIMA THE BEST BOY

unlike the other 2, this dude right here,,,

god at cuddling

knows his shit!!!!!!

MY MAN WOULD BE SO SOFT AND UWU

YOU’D PROBABLY WANT TO LIVE IN HIS ARMS FOREVER

even if you didn’t ask, he’d throw his arm over your shoulder casually no cap no cap

then he’d pull you to his side

since he’s naturally a warm person so sooner or later you’d lean to his side

till your cheek is now squished against his side

which makes him go uwu mode

and almost stranggle you cs you were too cute 🥺

i swear im a bakugo stan-

kiri is just,, the manliest of the manly

n e way

he’s the type to trap you in his arms

if that doesnt say anything to u idk man

he’s so loving that you might start crying whenever u think about this man

he’s the type to throw in that puppy eyes whenever you leave

expect to cuddle with him literally when classes end

!!! THE TYPE TO SAY/WHISPER SWEET SHIT WHILE YOU CUDDLE!!!!

FUCK DUDE I’D CUDDLE WITH KIRI ANY TIME ANY DAY

just a natural sweet sweet boi 🥺

uwu

midoriya izuku:

izuwu here, probably thinks he knows what hes doing

but in reality he doesnt know what the fuck hes doing

he probably did his research about cuddling and all that shit the moment he got in a relationship with you

but thats okay!!! cs its the thought that counts !!! lmfao

he’s painfully stiff and tries really hard to make you comfortable

making you giggle

cs izuku is just the cutest bean ever

he’d probably make that face when he was moving his head up and down when he was staring at his computer when he was a kid unironically as he cuddles you

“izuku, just relax!!!” you laughed at his distressed state

“ehehehehe…. how”

so you end up being the big spoon

showing him how it’s done

and izuku just wanted to hide embarrassment cs he didn’t learn shit abt the stuff he’s been reading online

he’s open to suggestions tho!!!

so once you hold him like the baby he is,,,

he gradually gets the jist of cuddling and wants to try it for himself

in his head: man being cuddled is way better 🥺

you find that he’s a bit comfortable now

so every once in a while, he’d cuddle you but most of the time its you who cuddles him

but thats okay!! cs thats izuku who ur cuddling

and everything is just fine with you if its izuku

uwu

kaminari denki:

another dude who knows wtf he’s doing

mostly bc he experienced this before hand

since denki is kinda flirty,,,,, he’d put his hand under your shirt

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

naturally a good cuddler

plus you get to charge your phone when you’re with him LMFAO

be careful when he sneezes tho,,,,

prepared to be shocked,,

literally

anyway

cuddles with him would usually mean endless gossip about anything or anyone

when he’s feeling it he’d put his hand on your chest

with no malice or whatever, he’s just that type of dude to just hold ur bo*b

might give it a squeeze if he’s feeling brave LMAO

but mans doesnt mean any harm

it’s just he cant keep his hands to himself KJADSHAJHDJKA

since he’s pretty open about your relationship,,,

he’d cuddle with you in the common room

making everyone passing by lowkey gag

“get a damn room” bakugo grumbles as he goes to the kitchen

ENDLESS SIDE KISSES

my man kaminari cant live without physical affection y’all

and he’d probably brush ur hair away too damn what a man

uwu

tamaki amajiki:

PROTECT THIS LIL SHIT !!!!!

cuddling with tamaki would be a damn miracle

cs it happened rarely

due to his,,,,, nervousness and shit

even asking you out almost made him pass out

if it werent for mirio and neijire, you two would never become canon at all

since he’s a nervous bub,, expect to be the big spoon

which is a good thing tbh cs all you wanna do is PROTECT HIM AT ALL COSTS

he’d intertwine your hands together and probably do that one face: (￣～￣)

but its okay!! cs it means progress amirite!!!!!

this boi mustve felt so sorry to you cs he’s the man in the relationship right?? so he gotta be the big spoon

so like overtime he’d muster all the courage he had left and ask to be the big spoon

you can literally feel him shake from the other side of the room when he asked you so quietly

“c-can i…. t-try to be the…….. ᵇᶦᵍ ˢᵖᵒᵒⁿ“

AND WHEN I SAID YOU SCARED HIM SHITLESS WHEN YOU LITERALLY JUMPED IN HIS ARMS

YOU SCARED HIM SHITLESS

again,, he almost passes out when he barely catches you

so you two ended up cuddling on the floor

buT IF IT MEANT TAMAKI BEING THE BIG SPOON,, YOU’LL TAKE ANYTHING

you can still feel him shake under you

but you squeeze his hand around you reassuringly and kiss his cheek

“you’re doing so well my baby”

and my dude turns into a dark shade of red

“t-thanks?”

uwu

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athys-obelia · 4 years ago

Text

summary: no one's evil au lmfaooo but make it pt. 2

character/s: anastacius de alger obelia, claude de alger obelia, athanasia de alger obelia, jennette de alger obelia

and here's part 1 <3

oh my god okay. okay. so.

ana, claude, athy and jennette - they go on a LOT of vacations

claude complains every single time but anastacius pulls his trump card and sends athy and jettie BOTH after him

u think he's strong enough to say no after that? lmao jokes

and their vacations always go this way:

jennette: isn't this scenery just gorgeous, uncle

claude: indeed it is. and...quiet

jennette: ...too quiet

[cut to anastacius in the distance, fighting a bear as athy cheers him on]

athy + anastacius, hands down the most chaotic pairing yes i will not be taking criticism

they have tea in ana's palace everyday, just the two of them, they're so poised and picture perfect through the entire thing everyone thinks it's just the emperor giving profound advice to his heir

it's actually them deadass scheming,,, ana has no qualms discussing everything from court gossip to military tactics, both of which she's so on top of all the time

if anyone shit talks jennette or claude, this tea party is where their slow and agonizing demise is planned out to the dot

[true story - count sivan once made the fatal mistake of expressing his favour for athy as the next empress, dissing jennette by comparing her to athy sm which inevitably sparked a debate that ranked the princesses. a week after athy's sources informed her of the kindling behind this new debate, the count's sudden divorce became the talk of the town, and the man's business faced bankruptcy all of a sudden. the sivans still haven't recovered.)

athy n jennette were actually allowed to visit kiel in arlanta a few times, except it was too dark at their first arrival, postponing the meeting to the next morning

buttt then jettie can't sleep and she decides on a midnight snack run (their hotel doesn't really have the maids the palace does, but oh well. she's left the palace w lucas n athy plenty of times)

felix tags along btw, he knows this trip is important to the girls since they're leaving the palace without their Overprotective Papas™ for the first time and want some sense of independence, but... she's just so smol n he couldn't bear it if anything happens so he just shadows her

she totally knows he's there

n e ways so there's a juice place right beside their hotel which she aims for, but when jennette reaches it, it's closed

and out of nowhere, a voice addresses her - "hey you, do you come here a lot?" she nearly jumps out of her skin at the brunette, relaxing when she sees he's literally a kid around her age and not a murderer lmfaoo "me neither," he continues without waiting for her, pouting at the closed sign, before he asks for her name and whether she's new in arlanta

she confirms that yes, she's only visiting, and refuses to tell the stranger her name, still feeling strange at being addressed as 'you' for the first time (well, minus lucas, but he was like her brother and had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon, so)

he eyes her. "you're so weird. i've never seen a girl out so late before, and alone too. are you stupid?"

(felix has his sword out at this point)

she's flushing now and has no idea why she's still out here, but then this stranger kid apparently senses her mood and tells her the best ice cream store in arlanta is not too far away

(he also explains he knows someone who's starts doing weird things when she's hungry as well, and tries to defend that ice cream is actually a healthy midnight snack, "you can just take a healthy flavour like strawberry or mango, mangos are healthy,,right"💀️💀)

so jettie has travelled all the way from obelia, she loves her papa but he would have a heart attack if he found out she was ever awake this late?? yeah bc she's never getting this chance again, jennette accepts the offer

the stranger boy seems to be taking the whole "i'm not telling you my name," thing like a joke, and asks what he should call her since 'you' was getting boring

she goes with "lady j" and like a knight, the boy becomes "sir c"

(felix is on the verge of committing a crime - the princesses can only have one knight, after all)

they walk as the the boy navigates the streets in the dark, and she asks whether he's from the academy, seeing his uniform

"of course i am! you could probably tell bc i look so smart, right?"

she snorts. "yeah, that."

she also comes to know that this guy,,,well he might as well be a tourist? she's out here asking stuff like "oh where's the statue of lady alphia?" or "aren't we really close to the museum where they keep the first emperor's sword?" and he goes "lady do i look like your brochure?? but if you turn right from here there's a cool arcade and across the street from there is the best street food vendor you'll ever eat from."

well at least mans had his priorities straight 😌

"so can you take this off?" he asks, pointing towards her dress once they've neared the store

um???????? sir tf????????????

anyways jettie has been living with lucas n her dad farr too long to not take this the wrong way?? "...no?"

the boy raises an eyebrow "look, it looks like an expensive cloak but i promise i'll return it, alright? i gotta hide my uniform."

ohhhhhhh. 😳.

so she unfastens the cloak and because he's kinda just staring at it cluelessly (he can't even tie his shoelaces fight me), jennette sighs and moves the clothing over his shoulder, fastening it in place at his neck

he's literally a tomato when she looks back up and realises that yes, we are way too close rn

bc she's ana's daughter, jennette by default cannot function when she's flustered. so she kinda stumbles backwards like a fish out of water (years of princess training n etiquette? where art thou??) and 'sir c' has to grab her forearm so she doesn't bump into the pillar behind her smfh

the shopkeep is definitely suspicious of this pair that's definitely too young to be out so late, but chalks it down to his sleeplessness

they escape the store with the ice cream before the shopkeep can ask any questions, and 'sir c' escorts jennette back to her hotel. he climbs onto the roof of the building, helping her up as well

(felix wishes he had a magic stone to capture this moment, this is the first time he's seen jennette become such fast friends with someone)

she stands on the roof (it hurts her butt so she doesn't wanna sit)

"my sister would be so jealous right now," jennette murmurs, "she told me her ideal first date would be either a picnic or something like a moonlit walk. we're having like a moonlit picnic."

it's silent for a few seconds the boy speaks up, "is this a date?"

oh-

oh.

"i mean- i didn't- i don't- uh."

give her some time lmfao she's loading

"i don't really mind that," he tells her, and she thinks she might just walk off the roof in her embarrassment - who just says something like that?? "you're probably feeling really lucky right now, right?"

jennette: ✊😔

he does look pretty in the moonlight, she admits to herself, listening as he excitedly tells her about his siblings at home and how she should send an offering to the gods since they gave her the good fortune to be on a date with the most good looking one of all four of them

in turn, she tells him about how she spent her childhood away from her amazing dad and had gotten closer to him recently, about her sharp-witted uncle, her sister and friends

(the 'friends' section includes felix and he's melting)

she smiles - it's almost as if, at finding out he treasures his family just as much as she does, they've gotten a bit closer

and he tries to listen. jennette had guessed that his temperament was somewhat like her dad's - her dad didn't know how to listen, always making his opinion known before anything else, though she supposes as emperor he could do that

'sir c', on the other hand, tried his best, his blue eyes focused on her as he almost burst from the unsaid words he was holding back, trying to let her finish. the sight was an odd mix of sad and insanely adorable that she couldn't help but let him tell her about everything he couldn't hold in

sensing she could pass out from her exhaustion nearly half an hour later, and 'sir c' escorts her to her window and helps her sneak in bc "what sort of knight would i be otherwise?!"

(felix can't stop shaking the entire night)

the next morning, jennette's heart is pounding as kiel shows her, athy and felix across campus - the chance is low, but still...

"ezekiel!" comes a voice, and the four watch as a turquoise haired boy waves down the alpheus heir "are these the guests you mentioned?"

kiel introduces the trio to johannes vastia before asking, "where's cabel?"

"at the training grounds, he asked if you could bring everyone there so he could show them around there."

"... they're my guests though?"

athy is quick to befriend johannes (i mean she and his sister are practically the same person, so) and at the grounds, jennette's blood runs cold

(so does felix's)

the brunette doesn't notice her at first, arguing with johannes about something as kiel introduces him as cabel ernst

jennette is hyperventilating?? actually back up is this girl even breathing??

cabel ernst from kiel's letters? the 'loud and obnoxious cabel ernst', who gradually turned into 'my acquaintance cabel ernst', then 'hardworking, passionate cabel ernst', and finally 'my friend cabel'?

she'd actually rather admired this slow build of respect between her friend and the ernst boy, and had even expressed her interest to meet him

"this is the first daughter of his highness prince claude de alger obelia, princess athanasia-" cabel mock salutes the princess before his mouth forms an 'o' and he remembers to bow, "-and here's the emperor's only daughter, her highness princess je-"

andddd his eyes widen comically "-hey, lady, it's you?"

yeah jettie is on the brink of literal death - her entire face reddens as this...cabel, grins at her

she watches as he glances behind her, "and you're the guy who was following us - sup?"

felix flinches "...you knew...?"

cabel shrugs. "i mean you do kinda suck ass at the whole subtle thing."

"don't say it like that," jennette retorts, "felix was trying his best."

"princess 😭😭 you knew as well?"

"uhhhh no?"

athy + kiel in a corner: 👁️👄👁️

they watch as cabel's eyes widen all of a sudden and he just,,,runs away

...🐦...🐦...🐦...

yeah well anyway he comes rushing back a few minutes later, a piece of cloth in his hand "...*huff* here *huff*...you go."

athy totally flips out "jennette is that your CLOAK???!??"

"uhhhhh no?"

"um do you realise uncle would literally wage war at this."

and as if it would make everything better,

"i washed it," cabel offers with a grin

"you didn't," the vastia heir deadpans

"i mean, johan helped a little bit."

kiel smiles murderously at the pair. "johan, did you know cabel took the princess out?"

"wait, you're a PRINCESS??"

your honour they aren't very smart

so the group orders some coffee (milk for cabel smfh) to find out what happened, cabel mentions "date" and everything goes to shit again lmfao

kiel and felix scheme against poor cabel while athy n johan get over that stage pretty quick ("listen. MY sister will be living with ME after the marriage and if your friend wants to be with her he'll have to come with us to obelia." and johan's just like "fine by me ✌️😊") and start planning the wedding

cabel + jennette dip n sneak out of the academy again to get the juice they couldn't the night before bc shit is getting awkward here

on another note, our uncle cius' musical intelligence is actually very high - he can probably play more instruments than i can name tbh, but he feels most comfortable singing and i shit you not, this man has straight up an angel's voice

(didn't like singing in front of others coz he was secretly a nerd and only knew old love songs with deep lyrics, athy found out and educated him)

jennette tends to have nightmares often, most often regarding their family - she's seen her father murder her uncle for the throne, and vice versa, athy admitting her affections towards jennette were a front to get the position of crown princess, her uncle killing her to solidify athy's claim, etc - her family is her everything, so despite however many times these horrible scenes play before her, she's left sobbing uncontrollably

and on these nights, she leaves for her father's room, who holds her close and sings her to sleep

also lucas n jennette are like sibling duo# 1,,, jettie is an active lucathy shipper even though he denies it sm - like their dynamic is just peaceful walks in the gardens as she watches the plants n lucas shi talks the nobility and kiel

claude and athy have a thing for each other's sleeping on each other? idk it's weird

athy once fell asleep on the couch while reading with him, and claude moved her head onto his lap so she wouldn't be uncomfy sitting - well, she woke up to his hand absentmindedly raking through her hair and it was just so soothing that whenever she's tired and he's working or reading, she just plops her head on his lap and zzzz

and claude wondered what was up with that, so she proposed they switch roles and he felt so awkward trying to lay down in front of her lmao

obviously athy noticed and she just started reading, thinking he might be more comfortable if her attention isn't on him completely - she ended up reading out loud while playing with his collar and he just,,,passed out

also anastacius has definitely pulled jennette aside regarding the issue of his heir at some point - she had been hesitant at first before admitting she wouldn't like to be the empress at all

i know we'd all love to see empress!jettie and her sister duchess!athy ruling the court, but i really really really can't see her wanting the title?

so thus start athy's empress lessons, but holy shit her teacher is mean

like this man makes me want to bash his face in?? so he doesn't like the idea of athy becoming empress over jennette at all, all bc of both hers and claude's mothers being commoners

he has one of those long ass sticks that you use in presentation to point at stuff?? idk but basically mans has athy name every region, its lords and their vassals during their first lesson

the first time she gets one wrong, she's too shocked as the stick meets the delicate skin of her forearm to react

now the thing is, wmmap!athy would probably stand up against this bc her dad is the emperor and she's his only heir, but i imagine with anastacius' social nature he holds many parties / balls where she's probably heard claude's mom + diana slander and it wouldn't be unreasonable for her to be self conscious abt it (now she's the emperor's heir while jennette, 100% royal + noble blood, is right there which probably makes her feel even less legitimate)

so she endures it, the light marks on her arms as well as the taunts of his she's too smart to not understand - perhaps this is the price to be accepted in jennette's place?

and honestly, no one really notices until at breakfast a few weeks in, where jennette mentions how her dresses are still so modest when sleeveless dresses were more in fashion - ana is suspicious because athy is always on top of these things, societal trends and such, and claude is sus from the way she hesitates slightly in her answer, "i haven't had the time lately, i suppose"

the lesson after focuses on ettiquete since everyone knows she's good at politics and such already, but now tears of frustration are pooling in her eyes because what the hell?? this guy had made an opinion of her long before he even met her, so anything she did would be wrong in his eyes

he gives her a sinister smile, "tired, princess?"

"no," she insists, keeping her voice level. he's about to spout some other nonsense, when anastacius enters the room, taking a seat across from her

anastacius watches quietly as athy answers the teacher's questions in her "public" voice. he watches as her usually cheery disposition is replaced by something far more...dead, despite the front she puts on for him. he's soundless as she hesitates in her answers where she normally would've been louder, more confident. he stops watching in silence when his niece flinches at the sight of the stick

oh.

he interrupts her lesson, not missing the way she winces almost imperceptibly when he grabs ahold of her arm, announcing, "we're going."

he just- it's just that that was the moment he knew for sure - the sight of his niece emotionally disheveled for the first time reminds him too much of how his own brother had once been, and he'd... he'd promised he wouldn't let anyone hurt his family anymore

he ends up taking her to the port with some of his advisors to welcome some royal guests, insisting that she would learn better from experience rather than books - but the guest delegation gets so boring that he sneaks her out of the meeting n they end up in the streets

now athy has no idea where they are, but apparently her uncle does?? ana has his hand on her head as he navigates the streets of the capitol as if he comes here everyday, using magic to casually disguise the two of them

in the meantime?

felix is at the port trying to cover for them smfh, he makes up this huge story about how the great wise emperor wanted to familiarize his heir with the locals, understand her subjects, yada yada

back at the palace prince claude is currently dragging a man by his collar and only upon jennette's insistence does he throw him in prison rather than literally kill him

(jettie visits him later in prison to give the guy a piece of her mind, after felix's visit he's sporting a few noticable bruises and the prisoner is practically unrecognizable once lucas visits)

back to athy + ana, they end up stuffing themselves with some super good street food as anastacius confesses that yes, he has definitely been sneaking out of the palace ever since he was a lil kid

athy almost mentions that she, lucas n jettie sneak out too but that might give him a heart attack, so

"it's so pretty, uncle cius," she says, gesturing towards the necklace he holds up. once he's paid for it, anastacius fists the necklace, opening it to reveal the jewel pendant - now imbued with his magic and replaced with gold lettering of the word athanasia

and she realises that yes, that's what both him and her dad have called her all her life, haven't they?

"you're my heir, athanasia," he uncle tells her with a small smile, "i am proud of that."

getting teary, she tells him, "i'm really proud of you too, uncle cius," triggering a very flustered + blushy anastacius

this mans craves validation - not from the sycophantic nobility, or the obsequious concubines he'd dismissed all those years ago, but from the family he thought he'd neither have nor deserve

and just the acknowledgement is so large for athy - he wants her as his heir, not because she's his niece, but bc he trusts her to look after his hard work after him??? - yeah she's totally bawling her eyes out

anastacius magics her a handkerchief but my mans magic isn't that strong?? lmao he's used up so much by now that the 'handkerchief' turns out to be some scratchy tissues

awkward amirite

nope! athy laughs at that, offering him a sip of her drink as she magics another straw and a proper handkerchief lmfaoo

n e ways so when they return, everyone's shocked to learn that the crown heir, princess athanasia will actually be joining the official circles as anastacius' temporary aid - he doesn't wanna entrust her to anyone but family, and decides that the best way to learn is by his side

(she's so confused bc lucas doesn't normally bat an eyelash when she wears the prettiest gowns, but he deadass can't look her in the eyes when she's in her aid uniform - it's more like a suit than it is a dress)

yes lucas women in suits >>>>>

everyone is STUNNED when at dinner, claude proposes they leave on vacation??

anastacius is just not having it?? like no, this is not my brother, and he throws a grape at claude to check if it's a clone or sum (¿¿how does that work??)

anyays so he ain't no felix, ana's aim is ass and it hits jettie instead

mans nearly gets on his knees to apologise

long story short everyone preps for vacation, but by some aCCiDeNt claude n athy end up at a different destination than jettie n ana, when she suggests returning to the palace to regroup, mans deadass sulks

"so you wouldn't like to spend this time with your father, despite barely visiting my office for weeks?"

o-oh

so at their return, the nobility starts pestering everyone that the princesses aren't independent enough, yada yada idc so to quell this annoyance, to the girls' joy, they get to move into emerald palace together, while claude and ana stay in the ruby and main palaces respectively

literally emerald palace becomes such a cool place to be in since it's the residence of the only decent people in this family, the brothers spend hours going through the requests of maids who want to be transferred

it's such a busy time because of athy joining the court and jettie starting her studies as well - naturally, since she isn't becoming empress, she'll be getting the duchy claude + athy were to be given in the beginning

speaking of futures, jettie's interest in plants and cooking has definitely branched out into herbs

claude notices her tending to a small garden during his visit to athy and even gives her a few tips (he had been studying medical since he was a kid, and picked it up again when athy was born and the empire stablised somewhat)

this soon becomes a routinely thing, and he actually starts reading up on some herbs and even orders a few for her prospering garden

after a month of her learning from books, claude proposes adding a medic as one of her teachers, and turns out his hunch was right?? she's excelling at medicine and they keep it between themselves for the time being

it doesn't last long though, bc they're on a hunting trip when ana injures his leg

and !! this girl istg, she gets to cleaning and wrapping the wound without blinking an eye, as if it's the most natural thing ever, and claude is just smirking while athy and anastacius and literally everyone else: 🌟💞✨jettie✨💞🌟

literal tears coming out of anastacius' eyes "how come my daughter is smarter than me😭💅"

claude: that's not a very high standard, brother

anastacius: ✨suddenly i'm an only child✨

behold, the people in charge of running an empire everyone 👏👏👏

even though jennette is claude's (unofficial) student and athy is her uncle's heir, they both ask their dads to the debutante

yes athy does dance with lucas, anastacius sent him an invitation even though he wasn't a noble (he's an active match maker 😌) and nobody dared question the emperor's special guest

at the end of the night, kiel gives jettie a letter from arlanta - it's an invitation to the academy during holidays, from a certain brunette

when she brings up the subject, felix lets out a squeak and literally everyone goes silent 😭😭

athy n kiel are just out here DARING him to spill them beans

but anastacius takes on look at his excited lil kid and decides that yups, she's going to get everything she wants

a/n: i literally don't know how many parts this should have lmaoo but y'all made it this far!! thanks for reading i hope you liked it<3

#non dysfunctional family!au #or ana decides to stop being a shithead!au #functional family!au ??#wmmap #sbapod #who made me a princess #suddenly became a princess one day #anastacius de alger obelia #claude de alger obelia #athanasia de alger obelia #felix robane #lucas #jennette magrita #jeannette magrita #kiel alpheus #ezekiel alpheus #beware of the brothers #cabel ernst #johannes vastia

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leapyearkisses · 3 years ago

Note

For the director's cut: Could you do Nice Work If You Can Get It? (Eliseo/Padgett)

That fic... Changed me. I'll never forget it TBH.

Yes, I'd be happy to! This one was really fun to write, and it was the beginning of two OCs I am very fond of now (and who I am happy to know made an impression on quite a few people!).

(If anyone enjoys this director's cut thing and wants to see one for another of my stories, ask away. I had a lot of fun!)

Commentary in bold below the cut! NSFW, mess, deliberately sneezing on people, m/m

This story started from a prompt about one character hiring someone to get them sick. An intriguing idea!! But it was one I actually struggled with finding a groove for when I started out. I actually started a few different scenarios with different character dynamics before I figured this one out. I have a 2600-word WIP of a different version of this in my "unfinished" folder.

"All right... close your eyes." Eliseo swallowed and did so, blocking out his bedroom, the red-gold sunset light pouring in from the windows, and Padgett, who was straddling his hips. He could still hear, quite easily, the other man's labored breathing and feel the heat of his thighs... and his crotch. Eliseo was under no illusion that he was in an incredibly compromising position at the moment. He hadn't thought much about the.. particulars when he'd first decided to strike this deal. "Are we really doing this?" he asked, voice weak.

I can't really write fetish porn without including actual porn lol, so from the beginning it was sexy even without the snz. In this version, the POV character is Eliseo, who is the "naive" character in a way. I pretty much write pairs where one character has the fetish and their partner does not but is indulgent. The one with the fetish is usually embarrassed about it or somehow naively realizing they like this weird-ass thing. Padgett laughed, voice tumbled and edging on hoarse. "Hey now. Not getting cold feet are we, my lord?" His exhale ghosted over Eliseo's forehead and his tousled black hair touched Eliseo's cheek.

Padgett is the confident character, and he brought the humor to this scenario! Eliseo cleared his throat. "No..." He could imagine the other man's smug look. They'd known each other long enough now that the image rose unbidden to his mind's eye. Padgett's eyes always glittered like opals when he was scheming something. Padgett surprised him with a tender touch on the shoulder, and he almost opened his eyes again. "The safe word is 'pumpernickel,'" he said, managing not to chuckle. "We can stop whenever you want... Hhk-" He fought off a gasp. "Decide hh quickly, though." Eliseo shivered. "I'm okay. Let's do it." He didn't want to admit it, but Padgett's reassurance did put him at ease, even if this had been his idea. He relaxed and tried to lose himself in the late afternoon heat. "Yehh-s, my lord." Padgett leaned forward and took a shaky breath. It stuttered and caught on invisible hooks, sounding at once to be full of potential and then gone again, like a ghost at the window. Eliseo could feel his body tightening again with anticipation, especially when Padgett gasped and leaned back. "Hh-... hah--

"A ghost in the window" eehhh this is kind of overworked. I like to write descriptively even when it isn't necessary. "Huh-ktschht!" A warm rush of air burst in Eliseo's face, almost immediately followed by a watery spray over his forehead, closed eyes, and nose. His instant reaction was to curl back, or try to, and he had his hands braced on Padgett's chest before he could think about it.

I had never written anything quite this scandalous as it were. There hadn't been a lot of snzfic I had read where there was direct, purposeful contagion like this or quite so much mess description directly on the skin, the face even. So I was sweating while writing this lol. "Hey now," said Padgett, delayed by a sniffle. His tone was light. "Easy. You specified this in the contract, remember?" He rested his hands lightly on Eliseo's wrists. "How are you feeling about it?"

CONSENT IS THE SEXIEST THING. We get this instinctual edge of revulsion from Eliseo because he has not acknowledged to himself that he likes snz yet and also he has never allowed anyone to do this to him before because why would anyone do this? Eliseo found he was holding his breath, but- Well, that would defeat the purpose of this exercise. He cautiously let it go and then opened his eyes. Padgett was gazing down at him, looking neither smug nor concerned, just curious. "I- this was on instinct," Eliseo murmured. After a beat, he lowered his hands, and Padgett let him go easily. "Yes, I imagine so. It's natural." Padgett smiled then, and then his expression crinkled. "Wh- hh- want to do it again? Hkt-- hhh..." Eliseo forced himself to surrender again to his pillows. "Yes." Again, he closed his eyes. Padgett shifted forward on his lap and oh- but then he was sneezing one more. "Huh- hktsschit!" Again, the spray. This time it dusted over Eliseo's nose and mouth. He fought to keep from thinning his lips and... took a deeper breath. Padgett hadn't moved, was still fighting with his own lungs, reeling in another insistent sneeze like a stubborn trout. "Huh- hh... hh hh huh-" He made an annoyed sound. "Hah-- hah-krttschtts!" Eliseo felt droplets of saliva decorate his cheekbone. Padgett sniffled thickly.

I think artists often point out how funny it is that when they're drawing they mimic the face of the character. I do this with sneeze sounds (IF I'M ALONE). I tend to like softer sounds for my characters, so a lot of sibilance creeps in. "...Bless you," Eliseo murmured. He was feeling hot. Maybe it was Padgett on top of him. The man was running a fever. "You are... doing the job admirably." That earned him a laugh. Padgett shifted his weight to his heels, which did interesting things to his cock's relation to Eliseo's own. "Thanks, I guess? I never would have thought anyone would be hiring for this, much less you." "Circumstances are dire," Eliseo intoned without a hint of irony.

Eliseo is a card. I love him. Of the two of them he is much more my preferred "type." He is similar to my mage character Llewellyn but less fussy. "Mmhm." Padgett sniffled again. "You must really hate weddings. Couldn't you have just gone on a hunt or something this weekend instead?" Eliseo sighed. "No. My sister would do anything to ruin my plans if I tried to avoid the party any normal way. But luckily, she's terrified of germs. I think a miserable head cold will be the ticket." Like hell he wanted to sit through another of his sister's weddings. Every time it was some new, world-changing drama. He wasn't even sure whether the groom this time was noble born. No doubt the reception gossip would be scathing. What absolute drivel.

There's a little "my lord" up there before, but this is kind of where the setting is characterized - Eliseo is a noble and this is a time and place where nobility matters. However, it's also anachronistic, because germ theory is a thing. They're kind of in a pseudo Regency/Victorian world where I just write whatever feels like the most fun. "Lucky also that you have me around, hm?" Padgett's next chuckle turned into a bit of a cough. Eliseo patted his knee awkwardly. "I- well, yes. Very. But believe me when I say that I would not wish for you to be so stricken if I had the power to stop it."

People with shitty immune systems are my jam. Even if it's really unlikely, I love it. Sometimes especially if it's unlikely. Like mister high elf Llewellyn, or if they're a god or angel or something. Or in a world where if you had that bad of an immune system you probably would have died of diphtheria or pneumonia by now. "Of course, my lord." Padgett rubbed his nose. And though his breath hitched a few times in the following moments, he stayed where he was. Eliseo blinked. "Are we...?" Done? He didn't really think the exposure had been long enough. "I am ready." Padgett blushed a little. Blushed? "Sorry," he said. "I can kind of feel that, uh, the uh, next ones are going to be kind of... wet. I could blow my nose." His voice trailed off, wavering again. His nostrils twitched, and Eliseo did see within the promise of moisture. Perhaps it was the taboo of it, but Eliseo was alerted instantly to a sudden thickening of his cock. It pressed at his trousers with some gusto as Padgett sniffled again. Eliseo swallowed. "No. No, this is good. This will... help."

After consent, MESS is the sexiest thing. That's just how it goes. I don't make the rules. Padgett gave him a considering look, at least as well as he could between soft gasps and squinting against the itch in his nose. "If you're sure, my lord." "Just- call me Eli, like you used to," said Eliseo, stumbling over the words. He wasn't sure where they had come from, but now they were bare between them. Still, perhaps a bit of affection wasn't so odd compared to what they were already doing. Eliseo closed his eyes on Padgett's startled look.

I wasn't sure where this came from either. But suddenly they were in love and I was cool with it. Eli btw is pronounced like the name (Ee-lye) but Eliseo is pronounced Ell-ee-zay-oh in my mind. It's of Latin origin and means "God is my salvation" according to that authority Babynames.com lol. Padgett means "attendant" so that was chosen partially because he's Eliseo's employee but also because Padgett is just a SUPER English-sounding name. I really enjoy looking up name meanings and representing different traditions in my characters. I tried to give Eliseo's family members Latin names, too, although they're not mentioned here. "Eli," Padgett said, and he sounded like he'd just come home from a long war to find the hearth kept warm for him. "I will." He leaned forward again, bracing himself. "Now, I'm going to- to hih-- to snhhsneeze, hah-- haktschtsch! Hrh- Hnkgstschhiu! More spray this time, more wetness, and Eliseo gasped himself when he felt a thick drip against his chin. Padgett hadn't moved. When Eliseo tentatively looked up, he saw his friend caught in a limbo of urgency. His green eyes were shut, eyelashes fluttering. His nostrils, gently pink now, flared. A clear trail hung from one of them, quivering as Padgett panted. He looked wild and fever bright and teetering on a precipice. Eliseo ignored what it might mean that Padgett's desperate expression, his wet nose - even the mess - suddenly went to his cock. He was hard, looking up at a portrait of a sneeze.

Sometimes you just have to stop writing for a second and drink some cold water or something. Carefully, he placed a hand on Padgett's thigh. "It's okay," he said, words coming of their own accord. "I've got you." Padgett's fingers tightened fitfully in the sheet as he shifted his weight again. He was making soft, irritated noises. His nostrils flared and Eliseo saw another drip lying in wait on the cusp.

Fingers tightening fitfully in a sheet is a thing I love to describe. If you binge-read everything I've written, you will find that I write snz and sex in a very particular way over and over. Because that's what I like! And I'm super glad readers like it as well! But I can basically only find the motivation to write what I enjoy (when I write at all... .__.), which is why I only write m/m or nb characters and such. When the urge became too much, it was like watching a wave finally crash down. Padgett's breath caught; he tensed and leaned back. Eliseo hurriedly closed his eyes again, and none too soon. "Hhhhrektschuckh!" He felt the mess streak his face, fly to spatter his mouth and nose and chin. Padgett moaned and then gasped again, chest swelling with air.

SCANDALOUS "Hah- Huhrttschuh! Hshtt! Hah- hsshtt!" Again, he teetered, teasing the air with shivering gasps. Then, he abruptly folded with a crush of vowels and congestion. "Hggtschiucht!" A baptism, pondered Eliseo's brain as it detached from reality momentarily. Pinned as he was to the bed by Padgett's sex, he couldn't move when he felt himself coming just as abruptly as the sneeze. Somehow the slick wash had become a mounting sense of urgency in each of his muscles, racing from his fingertips and toes to his abdomen, where, quite unbidden, his cock had tugged all that energy into a gut-wrenching orgasm that sent the shockwaves back out with renewed vigor. Padgett whined, and Eliseo took him firmly by the shoulders and drew him in for a messy, off-putting, contagious, blindingly good kiss. "Wow," said Padgett, when they finally broke for air.

Wow, lol. I have a great imagination. I wish I could make myself write more often. "Don't ask me why," Eliseo muttered, but he refused to be made a fool of by embarrassment. "C- come here." He shifted to sit up further and put his hands on Padgett's hips. "I want-" He wanted. "This. Yes?" Before he could stop himself, he swept his tongue over Padgett's mouth, under his nose, to rest at the edge of a nostril. He tasted salt. It was not entirely pleasant, but whatever pilot was captaining his body right now didn't care. He could still feel his cock pulsing against his trousers.

Also the first time I wrote anything like this, but Eliseo was like go big or go home, so. Padgett moaned. "It feels... odd. But, my lord, you can do what you- I mean, Eli." He was breathless for different reasons now. Eliseo laved the tender skin above Padgett's lips, then licked up his septum. When Padgett shivered, Eliseo kissed him again. Slowly, he cleaned away the mess from Padgett's face. When he was finished, neither of them knew what to say. Eliseo was hard again.

Huahaha Eliseo can have an unrealistic refractory period. I don't really give a shit how accurate this stuff is when it would get in the way of the enjoyment. Not to the point where people are just going in without lube or something crazy like that, but being willing and able to go again is just sexy, so that's fine. Finally, Padgett laughed shyly. "I think you'll be catching your cold, Eli." Eliseo blushed and shrugged. "I should hope so. I am-" He bit his lip. "I'm not ready to stop. Will you stay the night? I'll look after you." Padgett kissed him, tenderly drawing them together. "I would like that, very much."

And then they DEFINITELY banged. I hadn't conceptualized their specific history together at this point, but Eliseo and Padgett were FWB while younger, so the "surprise" at meeting again like this in a sexy fashion is more like "Oh, are we doing this now, as adults with drastically different social standing?" and less "Hey, are you into me??"

I got more than one request to write the direct sequel to this, but I dunno. I usually prefer one character in the pair to be the one who is sneezing, and writing Eliseo sick isn't as fun. Partially because I'm much, MUCH more interested in the shy/embarrassed/"voyeur" dynamic, so someone who gets off on their own sneezes really does nothing for me. I do have a WIP of Eliseo sick that is a direct sequel to Carriage Shenanigans, but I have no idea if it will ever get finished.

Thanks so much for the request for this very fun exercise!

#lyk writes #snz #eliseo jorvald #padgett foxborough #elipadge #director's cut commentary exercise

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fablesrose · 4 years ago

Text

Tell Me a Story 2

Description: With the first interaction with Chuck almost over and done with, Dean and Y/n have to figure out how the heck this is going to work. Some mafia business goes awry, but when has anything gone to plan?

Word count: 4,581 (guys this is over twice as long as the first part, this is ridiculous)

Pairing: cop!Dean x mafia!reader

Square filled: Moodboard

Warnings: knives, pain, a little blood

Masterlist ~ Bingo Masterlist

A/n: Part two also goes with @girl-next-door-writes Bingo challenge! Btw this whole fic is based on me wanting to write the first part of this chapter so there's that too.

“I don’t know sir, I’m not much of a story teller.”

“Come on Dean.”

“Tell me a story.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well I’ll do my best.” Dean glanced at me, trying to decide how this would go. “If I remember right sweetheart, you called me?”

“Yeah!” I wracked my brain as quick as I could, “It was a wrong number call. I think I was trying to order take out.” Oh my gosh that was so stupid.

“But with me in a new city, a new job, I wanted to talk for a bit,” Dean squeezed my hand, “we decided to keep in touch and the rest is history!”

Chuck just looked at us for a bit, an unamused look on his face, “You’re right, you aren’t much of a story teller.”

Dean’s finger twitched against my hand, and I had to admit, that in this moment it was comforting. At least I was going to die next to a pretty nice dude.

“But whatever. You guys go claim some territory or something.”

Chuck seemed so complacent that it made a spark of anger ignite inside of me.

“Chuck, we’re not some teenage boy gang that spray paints wall-”

He had advanced towards me and had his hand roughly grabbing the base of my jaw, a few of his fingers pressing into my neck. He was just enough taller than me to wretch my face up painfully. I let out a grunt, but otherwise shut up.

“You are whatever I damn well tell you you are, Starling. Now go claim some territory.” He roughly shoved my face to let go. He quickly fixed his sleeves and patted Dean on the arm, “Sorry for touching the merchandise. You kids have fun now.” He turned on his heel and walked out of the building without a second thought.

There was a moment were nobody moved from the room. In the last few minutes it made it easy to forget that there were more than just Dean and I there. I wasn’t the highest ranking person in the room, but the list got messy sometimes.

“Alright, you heard the man,” I sighed. But still nobody moved, “I said let’s go!”

The members surrounding me rushed from their stationary positions to exit the building. I moved to follow but the tug on my arm reminded me that I was still holding Dean’s hand. I couldn’t decipher the look he had on his face, but it wasn’t a good one.

I gave him a soft nod with a squeeze of the hand before letting go and following the group. I heard his heavy footsteps behind me, but he made no effort in catching up to walk by my side.

“What a guy you got.”

I huffed, “Hello to you too Meg.”

“He’s hot. Ask if he’s got any hot friends he can hook me up with alright? Or you can just let me have him.” She nudged me a little in jest.

“Any other requests, Cockroach?”

She shoved me a bit harder, “Just don’t get in the way of my spray paint.”

I laughed as she ran up to the front of the pack, wanting to pick the spot to throw some paint.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, slouching a bit as I followed the pack, wanting to be in my own thoughts.

A hand wrapping around my shoulders caused me to stiffen and straightened my back. I glanced to my side to find that Dean was the one walking next to me now. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, maybe trying to keep up the front that Chuck gave us. I relaxed a little bit, loosened my jaw, but my posture remained straight.

“You expect someone else?” Dean kept his eyes facing forward, not even glancing in my direction.

I mimicked his expression, “The boys tend to try and get handsy.”

He hummed and patted my shoulder, “So that didn’t go to plan.”

I turned to look at him and waited until he looked at me. I shook my head softly as if to say, “Not now, not here.”

He nodded, just as softly, as if to tell me that he understood.

We walked silently down the streets, just far enough behind the group to be separate, but close enough to see where they were going. I know I said we weren’t a teenage boy gang, but sometimes I did wonder. By their behavior alone, you would think they were some stupid seventeen year olds, roughing each other up, looking for trouble. Fortunately to some, they were intimidating enough from experience for people to not try and mess with them.

By the time Dean and I caught up, Meg had already gotten the spray paint out. She would never admit it to anyone out loud, but she enjoyed this. And she was good at it too. She ordered some of the boys around, some to help her with the graffiti, others to keep watch and to keep people away.

I took a second to think, I was lousy at painting (not that I didn’t try), and I figured this was as good a time as any to talk to Dean. Now the question was how to get alone.

The answer was I had to swallow my pride.

I turned my body towards Dean, one hand at the small of his back, the other gripping the front of his shirt, “Hey guys...” That got their attention. “You’ve got this covered, right?” I bit my lip a little, trying to sell it.

“If you don’t get out of here with him right now, I will shoot you myself,” Benny was leaning against a wall with a bemused smile on his face.

I shot him a wink and grabbed Dean’s hand to pull him away, “Duly noted Gaterson.”

“You sure do know how to pick ‘em lover boy!”

Dean let out a single laugh in response as I dragged him a block away into a secluded ally way.

We walked into a shadowy area to get as much seclusion as possible. I let go of his hand and leaned against the wall. I rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes which pushed my head against the bricks behind me.

“Starling?”

I sighed, “Please don’t call me that.”

“Sorry, I just meant what does it mean, why do you have it?”

I lowered my hands to see him leaning on the wall across from me, “Maybe some other time. All you need to know is everyone has nicknames around here.”

He crossed his arms, “So is lover boy my nickname now?”

I huffed out a laugh, “Nah, they’ll call you all sorts of things until something sticks.”

There was a pause. We both knew we were dancing around the real subject I pulled us away for, but I wasn’t sure I knew what to do with it.

“So that didn’t go to plan.” Dean was braver than I was.

“Yeah no shit.” I banged my head against the bricks hard enough to make a sound and tried to dig into the cement with my shoe out of frustration. “To look on the bright side—which I loathe doing by the way—we’re not dead...So there’s that.”

“There is that… Got any suggestions?”

“Why is it that you’re supposed to be the professional and I’m making all the decisions?”

“I don’t know, with your performance and cool composure, I’d say that you’re the professional in this situation.”

I sighed and closed my eyes, “The only thing I can think to do is play along. If it gets too much we can fake a breakup...” This was getting so complicated.

“Fake a breakup? As far as I’m concerned, we’re not actually dating.” I could nearly hear the smirk on his face.

“Really Dean? Really?” He chuckled in response. “Since Chuck already knows that you’re a cop I think the best thing to do is for you to go to work. Be a police officer that’s on the payroll, but be a little more involved.”

“Whatever you say sweetheart.”

I heard voices approaching the ally way that sounded familiar. Then there was a harsh shh to quiet them down.

“Shit,” I looked at Dean, grabbed his jacket and pulled him closer, “You’re gonna have to kiss me.”

I stared at me dumbfoundedly, “What?”

“Look, they think we came over here to make out, if we don’t at least look like we’re making out they’re gonna be suspicious.”

He still looked shocked.

“Shit.” I didn’t want to kiss him on the spot either, so I did the next best thing to make it look like we were making out. I grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled his face down next to my neck slightly angling his body to cover me. The sudden motion caused him to catch himself with his hands against the wall on either side of me.

He wasn’t touching me, but I could feel his startled breathing against my neck. I ran my hand along the back of his neck and through his hair. It was extremely soft. I started making little noises and muttering Dean’s name. To sell the act, naturally.

Dean, once he recovered from his freezing shock started to brush the tip of his nose against my skin which startled me.

I heard a whistle from the end of the ally, “Yeah Ms. Starling! Get some!” The group rounded the corner to see us there. I flipped them off, making them laugh.

I gently tugged at the back of his collar to say it was okay to part now. As he straightened himself I caught his face and left a soft kiss on his cheek.

The group had started to disperse and go their separate ways since we were done putting on a show because they “caught” us.

Dean and I walked side by side out of the ally, by the time we got to the entrance our previous companions had all gone their separate ways.

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” I started to walk the way we came, back towards the wall Meg was working on.

“No, uh, that was smart of you,” he jogged to catch up with me and shoved his hands into his pockets.

The walk was silent around the block.

Eventually we arrived to see what Meg had done. She had out done herself once again. The wall was covered with a silhouette of an angel. It’s wings were burning as the figure fell. It was intricate as only Meg could be. There were a few lone charred feathers across the wall as well. In the bottom corner an F was painted as if it had fallen over.

“It’s beautiful. How’d she get if done so fast?” Dean stared at the wall in awe.

I nodded, agreeing with him, “I’m pretty sure she made a demon deal, but I don’t know.” I pointed at the painting, “This is just street art, but this,” I pointed at the F, “makes it Fallen territory. Watch for it.” I patted the wall where there wasn’t any paint, “Alright, I’ll call you if something comes up you need to be at. Any questions?”

“Nope, I guess I’ll see you around Miss Y/n.”

I side-eyed him with a smirk before I started to walk towards my apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Something like a week passed. It was relatively quiet, me minding my own business. I thought it was almost too quiet when I got a call from Meg.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Letterboys are causing some trouble on 5th Avenue. You wanna bring your boy toy to help sort this out?”

I hummed, “I was just thinking that it was getting boring around here. I’ll give him a call and head over.”

“See you, Starling.”

“Uh huh.” I hung up on her and dialed up Dean. I was redirected to his voicemail.

“This is Dean, you know what to do.”

“Hey, we’ve got a territory dispute over on 5th Ave, if you’ve got time you can stop by.”

I left it at that and headed out to show some mafia wannabes that territories aren’t to be messed with. It didn’t take long to see Meg standing off against a guy, maybe twenty-three years old.

“Everyone paired off already?”

“Yeah, I think there’s a straggler that headed west though, you wanna pick him up?”

I slapped her shoulder, “Yeah, I got it.”

I heard her start to make small talk with her challenger, he didn’t stand a chance, “So, how’s the other side of town?”

I chuckled as I started heading West, checking all the nooks and crannies. I eventually came up on a kid walking down an ally, his hood was up, head down.

“Hey kid, you lookin’ for something?”

He looked up at me, “Just heading home ma’am.”

I nodded, “Alright, just, have you happened to see anyone running around with a pointy triangle-ish mark on their wrist?”

He didn’t respond, he just pulled out a switchblade. How cute.

“Look kid, you look too young for this, and I’m too old for this, so why don’t you head back where you came from.” As I spoke I pulled out my own, slightly larger, switchblade.

It seemed like he didn’t want to talk anymore because he started to charge at me.

I smiled, “Alright, have it your way.”

I dodged him at first, but then I started to cut him just enough to sting. That seemed to make him angry to the point where he caught me a couple times too. I started cutting a little bit deeper, hoping he would give up.

“Okay, you’re obviously out of your league, why don’t you go home?”

He made a jab at me, to which I grabbed his wrist to stop him. What I didn’t expect was for him to toss the blade into his other hand and slice a fairly deep cut into my side.

“Dammit!” I shoved him away onto the ground and pulled out my gun from the back of my waistband. I pointed it at him and stepped on the hand with the switchblade, “That’s enough of that.”

He spit some blood onto the cement from the split lip I gave him at some point, “Cheater!”

“Hey, you’re the idiot that brought a knife to a gun fight.”

A single bleep from a siren sounded off behind me. I turned my head to see an unmarked police vehicle on the street.

“Ah, Detective Castiel, nice to see you!” I kept the gun pointed at the kid on the ground. He may not have been the smartest, but he was smart enough to not move.

“Y/n, if you shoot that kid I’m going to have to arrest you.” He didn’t sound amused as he walked around the car.

“I’m only going to shoot him if he tries to stab me again,” I stared at the kid pointedly, “got it?”

He nodded sadly.

I looked back at Cas, “You know, this kid was looking to cause some trouble, so really I’m doing your job for you.”

“Sure.”

“Is that a new trench coat? It looks nice.”

“It is, thank you. Are you going to let him go now?”

“I don’t know,” I looked back at the kid, “are you going to go home and not cause any trouble if I let you go?”

He nodded again.

I stopped pointing my gun at him and stepped off of his hand. He scrambled up and ran back the way he came.

I put my gun back into the back of my waistband, “Kids these days.” I popped my hip as I turned to fully face Cas for the first time tonight, “Chuck still wants you on the payroll, by the way.”

“And you already know what my answer is, Y/n,” he leaned back against the car behind him.

I sighed, “Yeah I do. You’re a good man and a good cop, Cas.”

He smiled, a rare occurrence, but I didn’t mention it. “You’re a good person too, Y/n.”

I laugh halfheartedly, “If you say so… If you say so.” I crossed my arms and felt the wet stickiness from my side, reminding me of my injury. “Anyway, Meg should be about a block east of here if you want to go say hi.”

He rolled his eyes, “Yeah I should see if you guys are causing any other trouble.”

I turned on my heel to head home and clean myself up, “Love you too Cas!”

I heard the car start and drive off behind me. I finally looked down at the cut to see how bad it was. I was wearing a black shirt, so the blood didn’t show, making it difficult to see just how bad it was. From what I could tell, it was a few inches across. I couldn’t tell just how deep it was, but the cut was positioned over my ribs, so it didn’t damage anything important. Luckily the kid’s knife was sharp, so it would heal faster as it didn’t tear the skin, unfortunately the kid’s knife was sharp, so it went deeper.

I pressed one hand against the wound while I walked back to my apartment. On the way my phone buzzed from a text.

Dean: Hey, sorry, I was called out. Did you still need some help over on 5th?

Me: No, it’s taken care of. I’m heading home now.

Dean: Okay.

I put my phone away and continued home. Eventually I was able to unlock my apartment, careful not to get blood anywhere. I headed straight to the bathroom, stripping off my shirt and tossing my phone on my table on the way. I held it to the cut while I dug around for the first aid kit and once I found it I tossed the soaked shirt into the sink.

I turned the water on, getting a washcloth wet. I started cleaning around the cut to get a better look at it, having to rinse out the washcloth a couple of times to prevent just smearing blood around.

It was still bleeding, but the pressure I put on it caused it to slow down. Once I got a good look at it I could tell it wasn’t going to cause too many problems other than taking a while to heal and being sore.

A knock came to the door. I was obviously not prepared for visitors, so I left it be. It was probably one of the neighbors, they liked to check in every once in a while. I hoped they would just move on. They knocked one more time before my phone rang in the other room. I really should have just turned it off.

Finally the phone stopped ringing, but not a moment later I heard the creek of my front door opening. I reached for my gun the was still in my pants.

“Y/n? It’s Dean, I’m coming in okay? Your door is open.”

I sighed in relief and placed my gun on the counter, “Okay.”

I heard some rustling of what I assumed was him taking his coat off and the click of the lock sliding into place.

I pulled out some cotton pads and soaked one in rubbing alcohol. I just looked at it for a second, not wanting to clean the wound, but knowing I had to. I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, preparing myself for the sting.

“I thought you said everything was taken care of.” I looked up to see Dean in the doorway. He had a hard look on his face.

“No, I said the problem was taken care of.” I relaxed against the back of the toilet, knowing that I had a second before I was going to clean my side.

He walked in and took the saturated cotton pad from my hand, “That looks like a problem to me.”

I tensed up in preparation for him to clean it once he started to approach me, “Something like that.”

He hesitated, “You want something to numb it?”

I let go of the breath I was holding, “Yeah, uh, whiskey’s in the kitchen.”

He stood up to go get it, leaving the cotton pad on the counter. He came back with the glass bottle and handed it to me. I took a couple of swigs before placing it on the counter next to the rest of the first aid supplies. I felt myself relax a little bit. I heard a clatter as I knocked something to the floor in the process though. I bent to pick it up, my body protesting a little bit, but I picked it up all the same.

“What’s that? On your back?”

I instantly knew he was talking about the black tattoo that was at the base of my neck, in a spot that my shirt would cover.

I turned so he could see them better, “They’re wings.”

He traced them for a moment before I turned back around, “You wanna get started on this please?”

He grabbed the cotton, “Yeah, of course. They’re beautiful.”

I hissed in response as he started to brush the alcohol along the wound. I clenched my jaw so hard it started to ache, I whimpered before biting down on my fist.

Dean paused and pulled on my hand, taking it from my mouth, “Hey, hey, focus on me. Why don’t you tell me a story, huh? Focus on something else.”

I was breathing heavily, “Like what.”

“What does Starling mean? Why’d you get that tattoo?”

“And why would you want to know that?”

He squeezed my hand, “Because you’re supposed to be my girlfriend, and I think I would know these things.” He smirked because he knew he backed me into a corner.

I groaned as he touched my side again, “Fine.” I took a deep breath, “As you already know everyone needs a nickname. I was called a lot of different things, some more… savory, appropriate than others. I don’t know why, but I always seemed to be favored by Nick, by Crowley. I got my name under Nick, but that doesn’t matter.”

I gasped as Dean pressed particularly deep to which he apologized.

“I was being bossy one day. Nobody was listening, I had just got back from an infiltration job. Someone, they’re not around anymore, they called me a stupid Starling, and it stuck. Starlings in North America are considered an invasive species, terribly annoying, and unwanted.” Dean gave me a break to get a new cotton pad to finish up, “Tattoo means the same once something is solidified, you get a tattoo representing your name and a Fallen symbol.” I pulled my ear forward and showed Dean the fallen F tattooed behind it, just like the one next to the angel Meg painted.

“Well, I think they look like angel wings.” Dean came back and started cleaning the last little corner and around the edge.

“Really? Black angel wings?” I tried not to flinch as he caught the edge a little roughly.

“Yeah, I do, Angel.” He threw away the cotton with a small smile on his face.

I laughed, “Okay, yeah, sure.”

Dean looked at the wound closely, “I think I’m gonna have to stitch it up, just so it’ll heal faster.”

“You know how to do that?” I gestured to the first aid kit, knowing that stitching supplies were there, I had to do some myself every once in a while.

“I’m decent.” He started sterilizing the needle with a lighter he had in his pocket before cooling it off with the rubbing alcohol. “So how’d you get this in the first place?”

The stitching process was still painful, but not as bad as the cleaning. “Letterboys were roaming our side of town, looking for trouble.”

“Letterboys?”

I snorted, “They call themselves Lettermen, don’t ask me why, I have no idea. Really, they’re gang wannabes, so we call them Letterboys.”

Dean tugged at the needle to tighten a stitch, “Uh, huh. And if they’re so pathetic why’d you get this thing?”

I huffed out a laugh, “This idiot brought a knife to a gun fight and I played along for a little too long.”

“Ah, makes total sense.”

“So, how was work in a new city?” I wiped around my eyes to make sure I didn’t have any tears showing.

“Uh, it was alright,” he tied off the last stitch, “transfer information is still being worked out, but they’re thinking about pairing me up with this Detective Castiel or whatever.”

I smiled, “That’ll be good. Cas is a good guy. I actually saw him tonight.”

“Was that before or after you got injured?”

“After.”

Dean looked at me skeptically, “If he’s such a good guy, why didn’t he take you to the doctor or something? Is he in with Chuck?”

“Nah, it was dark, I was wearing that black shirt, I didn’t let him notice. And no, he’s the farthest person from Chuck you could get. He’s tried to take Chuck down a couple of times actually, gotten close too. That’s why Chuck desperately wants him to join, but Cas has the same answer every time, not in his right mind would he ever join.”

“So he’s trustworthy,” Dean nodded, satisfied.

“To an extent, yes.” I examined his handiwork, I was impressed. “You can’t tell him you’re into this though, not that you’re undercover, not that you know me. He’s already too deep into this and if he changes his behavior, thinking there’s a chance he can help you take Chuck down? Chuck will get suspicious and everything will fall apart, okay?”

“Understood.”

I stood up, testing the stitches, “Good.” I started cleaning up the counter and putting stuff away when Dean stopped me and started cleaning up himself. “Thanks,” I headed towards my bedroom and grabbed a new shirt to throw on. I groaned involuntarily when my stitches stretched as I pulled it over my head.

“You okay in there?” Dean asked from the bathroom.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I changed into some sweatpants while I was there.

“Do you wanna keep this or...” He trailed off as I walked out in a shirt that looked very similar to the one in the sink.

“Nah, I’ll just toss it,” I pulled at the hem of my shirt, “these are pretty cheap.” I wrung out the shirt as best I could and walked into the kitchen to throw it away, “The bathroom was just in the opposite direction of my gross trash.” I washed my hands, “Thank you, can I get you anything?”

“Another fake make-out session?”

I snorted, “And why would you ever want that?”

“Because it was hot.” Dean had a teasing smirk on his face as he followed my example. “But for real, do you have a beer Angel?”

I reached into the fridge to grab us some, “You’re serious about calling me that?”

He popped it open easily, “Yeah, I think it’s cute.”

I shook my head and walked to my couch with a beer in hand and curled up into the side, “So.” I gestured for Dean to join me, “What was so important that you knocked on my door twice, called me, and then walked into my apartment anyway?”

He groaned in embarrassment, “Well, it’s not important anymore…”

I laughed, “Oh come on Dean, tell me a story.”

Best Buds: @kitkatd7 @snarky--starky @confetti-its-an-imagine-blog @kaogasm

Dean: @akshi8278 @msmarvelouswinchester

#dean x reader #cop au #mafia au #cop!dean #spncreatorsdaily #mafia!reader #Girl Next Door's Make Me Feel Bingo #make me feel bingo #tell me a story 2 #dean winchester #moodboard

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fizzingwizard · 4 years ago

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Frantically playing catch up because I’m gone the rest of the weekend so here’s day 6 after all! Blatantly Takari. This one surprised me by how easy it was to write so it got a bit longer than the others. I’m sure there are many typos, please overlook. Also has two quotes, one in the text and one at the end, from my long-time favorite poet, Walt Whitman. BTW, I don’t really get everything that went down with Ordinemon, but I did my best to fit canon.

One month post-Bokura no Mirai, Takeru and Hikari go on a date and Hikari encounters something unexpected, which leads to a very overdue conversation with her brother.

Warning - there’s mention of the death of sick baby. It’s not huge but it matters to the story. I don’t want to shock anyone.

---

Tri week day 6 - Journeys - Death of a Comet

"How are you?" Takeru asked, watching her carefully.

Hikari only smiled and pretended not to notice. "I thought we'd known each other long enough to skip the niceties, Takeru-kun," she quipped. It was a far cry from her old playfulness, she knew, but she also knew he wasn't going to call her out for it it just yet.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Takeru rolled his eyes with an exaggerated, put-upon sigh. "I didn't realize relationship length was proportionate to amount of shits given."

"It is, at least when the last time we talked was an hour ago over text."

"Duly noted."

"Let's go?"

He nodded. He was wearing another hat she'd never seen before, a dark blue beret that looked about to tip off the side of his head with a light breeze. She wondered if he went out and bought a new hat each time before they went out together. Like how a girl shouldn't be caught in the same outfit twice. He probably did. That was Takashi Takeru, vain as fuck. But there was also something kind of adorable about it.

They'd "officially" been dating for a couple weeks, and Hikari wasn't sure yet how she felt about it. Of course, she'd agreed to it when he asked her. What else could she do? They'd been flirting and toying with each other off and on for years, in a childish way, but she couldn't pretend she didn't know full well what she was doing. She'd even sometimes daydreamed about what dating him would be like. Mostly she imagined it would be a lot of sitting in the bleachers at his basketball games.

She didn't consider Takeru the most mature of the boys in their year, but he wasn't as bad as some. Plus, they'd been through a lot together, so she knew what he was made of. And he really liked her. And she liked him. It seemed unavoidable. She'd said yes because she had no good reason for saying no.

It still felt a bit weird when he reached to hold her hand. Two weeks in, and they had yet to kiss. For the most part, it felt like nothing much had changed between them, except that Takeru no longer tried to hide his excitement when she was near. That was... flattering. And she had no qualms with taking it slow either.

They got on the Yurikamome train and stood together by a window, watching the Odaiba waterfront speed by as they traveled over the Rainbow Bridge. The sky was blue and cloudless. It was the kind of weather Tailmon loved, but Hikari had already talked to her about why she sometimes couldn't come along when she and Takeru went on an "outing." Tailmon had blinked lazily and said that was alright, and given her claws a long, purposeful lick. ”But if he ever hurts you, don't you dare hide it from me.”

Hikari promised, but thought the reverse scenario was far more likely.

Takeru had a more difficult time explaining it to Patamon, she'd heard. Supposedly, after Takeru had given his spiel about how growing up meant needing more time to oneself, Patamon had blurted out, "Are you going to kiss Hikari!? You've got to kiss her, Takeru!" loudly enough that some boys at school had overheard, and as a result everyone knew that they were an item before they'd even been out on a single date.

Such was life with Digimon.

"You know where it is, right?" Hikari asked as they got off the train.

"Yeah, I've come here with my mom for other exhibits," Takeru said, leading her out the exit and onto a busy street. "Mom's really into modern art. We've gone to see Kusama Yayoi's sculptures on Naoshima like four times. I'm pretty sure she goes whenever she breaks up with a boyfriend."

Hikari laughed. "Wait, really?"

"Well, she never introduces them to me, but I can tell when she's seeing someone. She touches up her roots more often."

The art exhibit they were going to see was some sort of interactive light show. Hikari had seen pictures online and thought it looked beautiful. Her father was of the opinion that they only ever put the best pictures on the website, and the rest of the exhibit was probably in some big, white-walled room that smelled like someone had microwaved fish for lunch. Her mom had been more enthusiastic, and added that, if the art did turn out to be a dud, it was as good an excuse as any to sneak off somewhere quiet with her Romeo and, you know, romance him.

Hikari was definitely not going to do that.

She'd timed things with care. Taichi had morning soccer practice until ten. After that he'd come home for lunch. The exhibit opened at eleven, but her concerns about there being a line fell on deaf ears, since Takeru claimed he knew this museum and it was never crowded. (Which didn't do much to mitigate her concerns about the exhibit being any good.) So the earliest she could convince him to catch the train was ten fifteen. So if she left right at ten and headed directly to the station, she ought to be able to miss her brother coming home completely.

It felt like fate was laughing in her face when she ran into him on her way out.

Her shock was mirrored on his face as they both stood in the doorway, staring at each other as if unable to understand why their biological sibling would be there, in their childhood home.

Taichi spoke first, if speech it could be called. "Uh," he said.

"Oniichan," she stammered back, "why - how - you got home fast."

"Yeah... Yamato was having band practice and he gave me a ride on the scooter," Taichi replied.

Hikari kept her mouth shut. Had Yamato orchestrated this? Was Takeru in on it? She knew it wasn't likely in either case, but her hackles were raised. "Oh," she said.

They continued to stand in the doorway. This was, Hikari reflected, the longest conversation they'd managed to keep going in almost a month.

"You... going somewhere?" Taichi asked after a while, tilting his head and looking up and down.

"Museum. With Takeru-kun."

"Oh. Well, have fun."

"Thanks."

As if suddenly realizing he was blocking the exit, Taichi stepped to the side, and Hikari barely restrained herself from running down the hall. The damage was done, though. The minute the elevator door closed, the tears started leaking down her face. Dammit. She'd been so careful.

She'd had to stop off at a nearby convenience store to hide in the restroom. She splashed her face and dabbed her eyes with her hand towel until they were less red, until the evidence of the havoc wreaked just by seeing her brother was hidden under a fresh layer of make-up. She never even wore make-up much before - after all, she was fourteen and blessed with good skin. Dating Takeru had been a convenient excuse to explain to her mom why she suddenly needed extra allowance for concealer, despite having no acne.

She wound up ten minutes late meeting Takeru and still, he could tell right away that something was wrong. She'd managed to deflect, but...

Hikari had never been any good at lying, even to herself. But she was surprised by her own cruelty, dating Takeru because she needed the distraction, an excuse to be anywhere but home. His feelings for her were genuine. She was a monster.

"Hikari-chan?" Takeru gave her a nudge that jolted her into the present. There was, indeed, no line to get in at the art show, and Takeru was trying to hand her a ticket. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

She nodded resolutely. "Yeah, of course."

"It's just, you're being kind of quiet."

"Well, sorry but I'm not a professional entertainer."

He didn't reply to that barb. Hikari felt even more miserable. If only Yamato's stupid motor scooter had broken down on the road...

They handed in their tickets and went through a pair of double doors, into a wide room lit by myriad streamers of blue and purple lights wafting on the air like strange, hypnotic jellyfish. No pictures were allowed, so Hikari kept her camera stowed, but she couldn't bring herself to regret it. Any pictures she tried to take while in such a stormy mood were bound to end up in the trash bin anyway.

They followed the path laid out through fiber-optic tallgrass in silence. Takeru was still gripping her hand, even though her own hung like a dead fish. The next section was a blacklight room with an even more obvious sci-fi vibe, bright cables painted brilliant colors in the impression of sea snakes creating circuitous archs on the walls and ceiling. The heat-sensor flooring lit under their feet as they walked.

Takeru leaned towards her, the blacklight setting his white T-shirt aglow. "This is like some disco-era alien planet," he joked, offering her the olive branch.

Well, she owed it to him not to let this date be a total disaster. "The room before reminded me of the tree in Avatar," she said.

"I bet the next one's gonna be something from Fifth Element."

"No way."

"Could be."

"Completely different aesthetic."

"It's gonna be that giant McDonald's sign made of stained glass. Wait and see."

It wasn't, of course. Takeru continued to insist they'd see the sign in the next room, and the next, until they reached the end of the exhibit, where he finally admitted defeat. At least room four had clearly been lifted from Finding Nemo, he said.

The final room was, in fact, an open space with white walls, but Hikari didn't notice any stomach-turning smells. A combination of 2- and 3D works of art were mounted around the room, and they took their time browsing, continuing to try to outwit each other with their increasingly outlandish, and even somewhat insulting, art critiques. It was a lovely show, Hikari thought. If she'd come to see it in a better frame of mind, she would be raving just now. But though she'd recovered her ability to match Takeru quip for quip, she still felt heavy with gloom. Geez, why did he want to date a rain cloud like her?

"Want to go for lunch?" Takeru asked as they took in the last piece of art, an abstract mosaic made of vibrant, blinking lights laid into a glass frame on a large tabletop. Hikari circled it slowly, watching lights ripple across the frame, stitching the full picture together bit by bit.

"Sure."

"There's a cafe my mom and I go to nearby. It does amazing pancakes."

"Sounds good," she said vaguely, her brow creasing in thought. She took a step back, gazing at the table from what she'd discovered was meant to be the foot, where you could see the picture in full if you craned your neck just so.

It wasn't abstract art. It was Ordinemon.

Her whole body stiffened.

"The orange marmalade pancakes are my favorite - you listening?" With a confused look, Takeru glanced from her unchanging expression to the table. His eyes went wide. "... Let's leave, Hikari-chan."

He gave her arm a tug. She didn't budge.

"Hikari-chan, there's no need to stay here. Come on."

"Why," she said. It came out in a harsh whisper, like a frozen wind. "Why would someone make art of... that."

Takeru didn't answer for a minute. "Because... they saw it," he said after a while. His grip on her arm tightened, as if expecting her to try to break away. "So they want to express what they saw."

"It's an abomination," she choked out. Humiliating tears welled up in her eyes.

Takeru seemed to hesitate. Then he stepped back, and his arms circled round her shoulders, locking her in a tight hug from behind. The warmth of his body flowed into her ice cold one, solid, real. Her mind flashed to another day, with a roiling sky black as night, when she'd come to in an unfamiliar bed with Takeru at her side and known, with a rush of deadly certainty, that she'd destroyed everything she ever cared about.

Her brother. Her beloved partner. Her friends.

By her own will.

She didn't know what she'd done. Or how. That almost made it worse, the not knowing. Her heart broke, watching her brother disappear in the earthquake. That was all. Her heart broke and she... stopped. And when she started again -

It was too late.

Tailmon had told her she didn't regret the fusion with Meicrackmon, that she'd been able to hold poor Meicoomon together, just a little longer. There was nothing for Hikari to regret, she said. Powers beyond her control. Yggrasil and Homeostasis felt they could wage their little war and pick their champions, and dispose of them when they felt like it. No sooner had she shaken off Homeostasis's hold over her that Ordinemon happened.

Hikari hated that once upon a time, she'd believed Homeostasis was a benevolent presence. That she'd willingly let her into her mind.

Now she didn't know what to believe.

Rage flared, hot as ice. Her whole world, none of it made sense anymore. She was adrift, she was unmoored, there was no safe harbor, not even in the brother who she loved like no one else. He could make a choice like that, to kill Meicoomon, to kill their friend's irreplaceable partner. The one person who deserved the most to be saved. And she'd helped, because that was what you did, on a team, at least, if you couldn't come up with a better plan yourself.

She realized she was shaking. Takeru only held her tighter, his nose buried in the crook of her neck.

"Hikari-chan," he said, and he sounded - terrified. "What if - what if it's not, though. What if it's not an abomination. What if..."

"How can you say that," she hissed frostily.

"I mean - I'm not saying it was good. I'm not saying I don't wish none of this had happened. But - I think - Ordinemon, she was created from despair, yours and Meicoomon's. She was used, and it tortured her. We freed her from that. She would have destroyed everything, even though it's not what she wanted, and she was in so much pain -"

"Stop!" Hikari yelled, pushing away from him. There was enough strength behind her need to get away and he was not expecting it, so he toppled to the floor while she raced out the exit. She kept running, hardly aware of dodging people on the sidewalk, and ran until she found herself in a small park with nothing but a two-seater swing set and metal slide. She sank into one of the swings and dropped her head in her arms. And cried.

Cried for Meiko, for Meicoomon. Cried for the future they would never have.

Cried for her brother, who had changed, and she understood why, but she still missed the way he used to be. Her guiding star.

Cried for herself, a lost comet streaking through an unfamiliar galaxy, wondering if she would vaporize shooting too close to an alien sun, or if she'd putter out slowly until she was nothing but lifeless, crumbling stone.

Her phone buzzed in her purse - Takeru, surely, trying to find her. On top of everything else, she'd ditched the boy she was stringing along, who cared about her, and who had tried so hard to let her know she wasn't alone. She didn't deserve Takeru. She would break up with him - she had to. He should be with someone stronger than her, who wasn't going to fall apart at the seams just from a silly piece of art at a museum gallery.

After a while the sobs let up enough that she could see without tears clouding her vision, and she figured she should at least let him know she was okay. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her messages.

12:35: Takaishi Takeru: i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to upset you.

12:35: Takaishi Takeru: where did you go? someone said you ran past the 7-11 but I have no idea where you went from there

12:37: Takaishi Takeru: please tell me where you are. If you don't want me to come, I won't. I can call someone if you want.

12:38: Takaishi Takeru: I just want to know you're okay

12:40: Takaishi Takeru: hikari-chan PLEASE respond

12:45: Takaishi Takeru: I asked at the 7-11 but they said they didn't see you. am walking around aimlessly now. no idea where to look.

12:48: Takaishi Takeru: hikari-chan if you don't reply soon I'm gonna have to call Taichi-san

12:52: Takaishi Takeru: wound up back at the train station, if you want to meet me here.

12:55: Takaishi Takeru: if you don't respond in five minutes I'm calling Taichi-san, I mean it.

12:58: Takaishi Takeru: I love you, by the way. think I always have. thought you might want to know

Fresh tears pricked her eyes. Leave it to Takeru. How could he pick now to spring that on her?

She should be happy. She wanted to be happy.

13:02: Me: I'm okay. I'm sorry. Go home. I'll talk to you soon.

Her finger hovered uncertainly over the keypad. She typed:

The real abomination is me.

Then she deleted it, and pressed Send.

---

Little though she wanted to go home, Hikari didn't have an excuse for staying out past dinner. She stayed in the little park until it started to get chilly. A couple times, the occasional grandma stopped to ask if she was alright, but she smiled and waved away their concerns. Finally, when twilight fell over the park in a gossamer curtain, she stood and stretched out the kinks in her back before heading back to the station. It felt like she'd been out much longer than a few hours. She thought briefly of asking a friend if she could spend the night, but didn't like the idea of needing to pretend to be peppy and cheerful.

On the ride back, she did a search on the artist who'd made the Ordinemon mosaic. Why, she had no idea. Some self-hating side that wanted her to hurt, she guessed.

The artist's name was Matsuyama Risa, a Tokyo-based sculptor, whose partnership with Fujii Fiber-optics had given birth to the displays they'd seen today. Hikari let her eyes skim the article, categorically uninterested in the number of lights used or how they were installed. What she wanted to know appeared like magic, tacked on at the very end of the article.

Art of Nippon Now: The last room in the showcase features a magical light-up mosaic of a subject that could be disconcerting for some viewers. What led you to recreate the monster that much of Tokyo watched terrorize the sky last month?

Matsuyama: I put that piece together in a feverish rush. Most of these installations took weeks to install, but I insisted on this one, even though it was such short notice. I had to have it. I heard that many people never saw more of her than her massive wings, but I happened to have a very clear view at the time. It made a huge impression on me.

ANN: You said her?

Matsuyama: It was a she. Or, perhaps it's better to say she might not have a gender, but she deserves better than the pronouns we use for inanimate objects, things without personality.

ANN: Are you saying this monster was a person?

Matsuyama: I don't know if you heard her cries, but they were deafening. They reminded me of how my son wailed in the night when he was first born. We didn't know why he was so colicky. Nothing we did calmed him. I was so afraid that he wasn't getting enough sleep. It turned out he was very sick and we just didn't know. The illness was hidden. We spent many nights in the ICU, holding out hope that he would be alright. I remember thinking, if he wasn't, it would destroy our marriage.

ANN: That sounds like a terrible experience.

Matsuyama: When our son died, it was terrible, but it also came as a relief. At least we knew he was no longer suffering. I was depressed for months. I couldn't make any art. Every day I expected my husband to leave me. The first day I pulled myself together enough to sketch something, he said I should sketch our son sometime.

ANN: So your husband didn't leave?

Matsuyama: No. He stayed by my side. When I cried that he deserved a woman who could make him happy, who would give him healthy babies, he told me I was the strongest woman he knew, and that I'd given him the best son in the world.

ANN: Wow - would that we all meet men like that.

Matsuyama: And women. That's why, although the creature that appeared over Tokyo was very frightening to look at, when I heard her cries all I heard was suffering. I thought, that is a real creature, who wants her pain to be understood. She represents something. Perhaps she was sent to show us the harm we do when we choose not to act to help others. She shouldn't be forgotten.

ANN: So you memorialized her in this mosaic?

Matsuyama: Yes. It was the right moment, even though I had no time. I wanted to recreate her likeness using lights. I set her into a table, because I felt that putting her on a wall would be too imposing, and viewers would only remember the fear she engendered. Lying down, it would seem as if she were in a coffin, finally laid to rest. But she's lit from within, and it's the light of life, desperately clinging on till the final moment, the same as any being with a soul.

ANN: Did you ever complete the sketch of your late son?

Matsuyama: No. I never did. But I think I will soon. I want to lay him to rest in my heart.

ANN: It's interesting that when you say 'lay to rest,' you seem to mean we should remember them.

Matsuyama: Our memories make us who we are. The past is always with us. My son, that creature, they are both part of my journey, as an artist of course, but also as a person in the world. You could say my son is the light of the world and that creature is the darkness, but I hold both light and dark in me, just by existing and being human.

ANN: You added a quote to the piece that said something of that nature.

Matsuyama: Yes, from a Walt Whitman poem, 'Song of Myself.' The quote reads: "I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness also."

ANN: Maybe Whitman never expected his poem to be used in this way.

Matsuyama: That's the nature of art. It is a journey in and of itself. It fluctuates and changes to nourish the times. I hope everyone who sees my art understands that they are on a journey as well, and everything they do creates the work of art called "the future."

ANN: Thank you for your time, Matsuyama-sensei.

---

Her brother was home, but her parents were not. The arrangement of shoes in the entryway said as much. Taichi was seated at the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of noodles and reading something. He looked up when the door opened and pushed his seat back.

"Hikari - you okay?" He peered at her, concerned. "Takeru didn't do something stupid, did he?"

So Takeru hadn't told her brother that she'd run off. Gratitude flooded through her. "No, of course not."

"Good." Taichi's hand rifled through his hair, the other planted on his hip, and he looked perplexed. "Then why do you look like you've been crying all day?"

Hikari walked inside and sank down on the couch. "Because I have been crying all day."

She could feel his hesitance as he wavered in the hall, trying to decide if he should press her for more. If that was still something he was allowed to do. She knew he would try. He wouldn't be Taichi if he didn't.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked, moving to sit on the arm of the couch, but he didn't relax, as if expecting her to tell him to leave her alone.

"No," she replied.

He nodded. "Okay." There was a pause. "You're sure Takeru didn't -"

"No, Oniichan."

"Okay, okay."

She sat there for a few minutes, staring blankly at the black TV screen. Soon Taichi slid off the arm into the seat beside her, allowing several inches of space between them. He didn't try to talk anymore. Didn't even get up to bring his bowl of noodles over, even though it was going to get cold.

Hikari tilted her head ever so slightly to peer at him. Dark circles ringed his eyes. She knew he hadn't been sleeping well. Something about his face looked more defined, less roundness to his jaw, starker cheekbones. Hadn't been eating much either, she guessed. It gave him an oddly grown up look. She would have to call him on losing weight from not taking care of himself, but that could wait for later. She was struck by how little he looked like their father. Everyone always said Hikari was the spitting image of her mom, so it seemed natural that Taichi should take after their dad, but though she searched she couldn't find many similarities. Taichi was just Taichi.

He gave a start when she leaned toward him and settled her head on his shoulder, but didn't say anything.

Hikari thought about many things.

How unbearable it was to feel helpless. How much she wanted everyone who cared about each other to be together, and for no one to suffer who didn't deserve it. How deeply she loved her friends. How easy it was fall apart.

Maybe all that meant was her worldview had been too delicate to begin with. A painting on a porcelain vase wouldn't stand the test of time unless handled with the best of care. The real world was too chaotic, too disordered. She could wrap her dream in newspaper, cover it in packing peanuts, tape it into a box marked "Fragile," and it would still end up in shards. She would try to put it together again, but the pieces were sharp, and she kept cutting herself on them.

She still wanted it. So, so much.

"You stay that way. You can hate me if you want," her brother had told her. Trying to put everything on his own shoulders, as usual.

"I will probably never forgive you," she'd said, and wouldn't let him. "But that's why I'll fight with you."

"Oniichan," She slipped off his shoulder, buried her face in his chest. She didn't know how she could still have more tears, but they darkened her brother's shirt as her hands hugged him tight. "I'll always fight with you."

Surprised, he didn't move for a moment, but then his arms wrapped around her the same way they always had, ever since she was small. His grip was sure, but not out of naivety. Yes, he'd lost his innocence. It wasn't coming back. But what grew in his place, she realized, was his choice. And she got the feeling he'd already decided.

"That's good to know," he murmured softly, lashes brushing her cheek, and she thought they might be wet as well. "Because I'm never going to stop fighting for you."

They held each other for a long time.

---

The next day, Hikari showed up at Takeru's door with flowers and a box of chocolates. He made a funny face, looking her over.

"Flowers and chocolates? Shouldn't this be reversed?"

"Didn't know you were such a traditionalist," she joked. "But I'll eat these myself if they hurt your manly pride."

A hesitant grin spread over his face. "To hell with convention. Those are my chocolates, keep your paws off them."

It was silly, and cliche, but this was her life. She could be as silly and cliche as she wanted. She pulled his shoulders down and kissed him. It was light and quick, but he still looked flustered when they parted.

"My mom's home," he said with an unmistakable note of regret.

Hikari only nodded. "Figured. Video games and chocolates?"

The grin unfurled for real. "Yeah, that would be great."

Nothing had ended. She hadn't gotten over anything. But she felt, for the first time, that now she could accept it. It was a piece of who she was, and it would be a piece of who she became. But just who that person would be, she intended to decide for herself. Even if her path got buried under mountains of broken shards of glass, that was just a part of being Yagami Hikari.

"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes)."

#triweek2020 #takeru takaishi #hikari yagami #taichi yagami #takari #digimon adventure tri #fizz writes #digimon

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citrusella-flugpucker · 4 years ago

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All 68 of my SU fics, apparently

((Because @novantinuum did it and then I wanted to do it and then they said “do it” and I took it as a dare

Compiling these gave me a sense of accomplishment. And pain. In my wrist.

Multi-line summaries nearly always squashed to lessen the vertical length of this post, even if most of it is below a readmore))

Multi-chapter fics, regardless of collection status (chronological order--oldest to newest):

And He Doesn’t Wake: My first SU fic, complete; “It can't end like this. Or: Waxing realistic as we examine the events of the episode "Bubbled".” Steven suffers halfway-realistic effects from being exposed to the vacuum of space. Probably not super canon compliant given what we learned in Growing Pains but a fic that branches off at Bubbled and rejoins canon around Mindful Education (and written around that timespan).

Diamond in the Rough: Incomplete; “Connie is in the hospital with a serious disorder, and her biggest chance is an experimental treatment combining minerals with blood transfusions. Little does anyone know...” Originally crack of “Connie gets powers from PD-infused blood” but then ASPR happened and I have to figure out where it goes now (and I want to! but...).

The Results Are In: Incomplete; “Sadie gets a piece of mail from her dad. For most people that'd be pretty mundane, but it's a little more complicated considering who exactly her dad is.” Barb/Blue Diamond crack (it makes sense in context) and affectionately called “Space Maury” internally for reasons that will make sense later. Has a similar but less “it flips the ENTIRE plot” issue with ASPR. I have many idea chunks but almost no connection between them

He’s Gone: Complete (and technically a oneshot with two “bonus chapters”); “Steven asks Peridot to get the shirt Connie got for him for his birthday from his closet. He says he wants to look nice. She's confused by his request. Greg and the Maheswarans are less confused and more terrified. He keeps saying it'll be okay. They'll be okay, even though he'll be going away. It'll just be a couple of days now. Or: Steven and Pink Steven are unable to fuse after being separated on Homeworld. That's not good for Steven.” Steven dies. That’s it. That’s the whole fic. Might potentially get an extra chapter or two still. Or not. Eh.

Thanks, Padparadscha: Incomplete/open-ended oneshot collection; “Stories about the best gem.” Padparadscha oneshots.

Your No-Good, Dirty-Rotten, Gem-Shattering, Rebellion-Leading Mother: Incomplete, little desire to finish; “What if Steven had gone to Camp Green Lake instead of Stanley? Or: If Steven Universe And Holes Were The Same Universe: A Fanfiction (thanks @captainjzh) Or, as the top of my Google Doc I started back exactly a year ago (*2019-01-07) says: SU x Holes: Because the fact that Steven Universe and Stanley Yelnats are both 14 is messing with me”. Wrote this as an exercise after reading the appalling original shopped screenplay for the Holes movie which was basically a nuclear fallout enthusiasts dream world but also quite possibly the worst and most uncomfortable thing ever written and I have had to have whole pages bleached from my memory

It’s Okay to Need Help: Incomplete (three chapters total planned), the last part of the pre-SUF-finale “Steven Corruption Theory” collection; “"Everybody needs support sometimes, and you need support right now, with this. And that's okay." She takes a deep breath. "It's okay to need help, Steven." Or: (Based in corrupted Steven theory as well as taking inspiration/using characteristics from a fic by @love-killed-the-superstar) Sometime after coming back from corruption, Steven sees a therapist to try to hammer out some lingering issues.” Steven has specific lingering issues from corruption due to the way they had to mitigate it, and that affects how he communicates with his therapist some days. Just been blocked on the best way to write it

Waiting is Worse: Incomplete; “Is there anything more awful than the feeling of powerlessness?” The movie mostly ends the same, except Steven doesn’t un-rejuvenate.

Realism: Incomplete, strong desire to complete; “As much as he may want it to be, this is not a dream. He's not possessing anyone. It's not happening to someone else. It's real.” Steven has the same effects happen to him as the Watermelon Steven from Escapism--an arm and a leg are amputated.

The President Kisses Babies, and Other White House Briefs: Incomplete, open-ended oneshot collection with very little overarching plot; “Oneshot escapades of President Connie Maheswaran and her First Man, Crystal Gem and public speaker, Steven Universe.” Inspired by a Tumblr post and with more ideas in the pipeline! Love this fic even if I lost most inspiration for four years!!

Collection (series) oneshots (chronological order):

Citrusella Tries (And Succeeds!) to Write a Fic Each Day of the Bomb: A collection where I tried to write a fic each day of the HotCG (wedding) bomb. I succeeded but also kind of not? XD

Could You Imagine?: “Imagination is wish fulfillment. What are some of the things Pearl has imagined?” Now We’re Only Falling Apart

Partake In New Extraordinary And Pleasing Pizza Lover Experiences (Or: Kiki's Lament): “Kiki rarely hates her job. But she does hate pineapples.” What’s Your Problem? (Also the title spells PINEAPPLE o.o)

Acquired Taste: “Steven has a snack as he helps prepare for an important ceremony.” The Question

My Whole Life: “Some people are just born to go into certain careers.” Made of Honor

We Can Think About Hope: Incomplete multi-chapter with no hope of completion (why it’s not listed in the multi-chapters, BTW... also the “kind of not” regarding success); “What's going on? What do we do now? Can you still hear me? (Or: The end of Reunited plays out differently.) (Or or: And He Doesn't Wake: Part II: This time with weirder angst! And more not waking!)”

Citrusella's "Steven Corruption Theory" Collection: A collection of fics written on the corruption theory premise before it became canon. It’s Okay to Need Help not duplicated here but would be at the end.

Change: “Steven's come back from probably the most serious thing that's happened to him--save almost dying after his gem was ripped out--but that doesn't mean he came back unchanged. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

My Skin: “Steven does a mental inventory of what's changed about him since his uncorruption and finds himself starting to fall into a hole of self-criticism, until a song playing downstairs sets him straight. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

Eternity in a Moment: “It had only taken a few hours, and yet, an eternity.”

I Can't Say with Confidence: “Over an hour. He's been sitting in the tub, fully clothed, the bathroom a mess… for over an hour.It should be working! Why isn’t it working?!” Based on this art!

It’s Okay to Need Help

Happy Steven's Day!: Just after Steven discovers his mother is Pink Diamond, Mother's Day rolls around...Greg just doesn't want Steven to be in a slump about it anymore.

You Deserve All the Joy: “Because nothing is better than being surrounded by family and love. Or: Steven's once-a-year struggle with a holiday he doesn't exactly have the ability to traditionally celebrate.” It’s Mother’s Day and Steven is sad. Post-ASPR

Universe Day: “"Being your dad is the only present I really need." Or: Greg and Steven talk and realize their experiences with Mother's Day have been two sides of the same coin.” Post-SUF

Citrusella's Comfortember 2020 Fics: Fics written based on prompts for November 2020 Comfortember... not finished with it

Speed Bump: “Steven's first night on the open road isn't as smooth as he wanted it to be. Attempt to combine prompts 2-6 of Comfortember (prompt 1 just couldn't be squeezed in): "first day/night", "nightmare", anxiety", "cuddling", "afraid to sleep"”

In the After: “Steven wonders if it was corruption. Comfortember days 7-10, though only in the most tenuous, technical sense (and by that I mean all four phrases are mentioned): "blanket fort", "lashing out", "confession", "crying"”

Late Night Hot Chocolate (described in next section)

Zombie Club Chronicles: Steven endures a violent accident on Frightnight (Halloween) that changes his life forever.

Beach City Zombie Club

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Steven] doesn’t enjoy the Halloween season, but [Fill in: Steven] take(s) them on a well-meaning trip to an old Gem Ruin where they come to realize [Pick from list: They’ve made a terrible mistake in coming here]

On Frightnight when he is 17, Steven experiences the most serious event of his young life. Almost exactly a year later, Steven takes Steven to Lars' ship in hopes of being able to hop off at a truly secluded gem ruin to talk about something that Steven and Steven have been disagreeing on for several months. Lars has an idea, and Steven comes to a realization.

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

Late Night Hot Chocolate (also a Comfortember fic)

"Steven? What are you doing?" He stares into the pot.

The gem half's voice comes monotone. "Making hot chocolate."

"It's three o'clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making… hot chocolate?"

The slyness on his face is one pixel away from nonexistent and yet it's practically a traffic cone to his other half, as he remarks flatly, "Because I've lost control of my life."

Or: Steven and Steven both have nightmares that threaten to take them back to... that night... One copes by making the other hot chocolate and pretending he really isn't having any problems.

Comfortember days 16-18: Protective, Flashbacks, Hot Cocoa

Standalone oneshots (reverse chronological order--newest to oldest):

Rumble Strips:

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Greg] notices [Fill in: Steven] is in a somber mood lately. Out of the goodness of their heart they try to cheer up the sad soul in the only way they know how: [Fill in: WHO WANTS TO GO ON A ROAD TRIP?!]

"I really thought I could handle myself on my own." He scoffed. "Even my own therapist didn't think I could do it."

"I bet she thought you could handle yourself just fine. She probably just thought you'd do better with your support system close, bud. Like, literally, I mean." His eye weaved through the thin line of gravel past the edge of the shoulder. "You started saying some pretty concerning things."

Or: Greg and Steven stop on the side of the interstate on their way to Empire City for New Year's, to have a conversation.

For the Cluster Christmas Writing Challenge!

Auto-Injector: “In an alternate timeline, Steven meets Bluebird at her welcome party but he cannot, under any circumstances, try her hors-d'oeuvres. Or: Steven ends up with allergies because why not” (I have three more ideas for chapters)

Don't Put Beans Up Your Nose: “"I know you want answers, and I wish I had some for you, really, Steven, but from what you've described… those aren't things to play around with. It's unethical to knowingly subject you to those for the sake of 'experimenting', even if you consent." Or: Steven asks Dr. Maheswaran a question she's not ethically able to answer.”

The Exor-schist:

Prompt: A series of events have led to a terrifying effect on one or more of the series’ characters. [Randomly roll from list: Mr. and Dr. Maheswaran] are now suffering from [Randomly roll from list: Spiritual Possession]. How did this happen?

"This corrupted gem, it has a powerful connection to organic matter. Ones this powerful have been known to overtake and even kill humans."

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

It's My Party and I'll Dry If I Want To: “You would dry too, if it happened to you! Or: Steven says he wants a pool party for his eighteenth birthday in Delmarva, after over a year of traveling the country. ...But why isn't he swimming?”

Ace Up Your Sleeve: “Or in your back pocket, same diff. Or: Steven's sad about potentially not getting to go to Pride.” (oneshot and an epilogue)

Milestone: “"Okay, so like, the books aren't, like, useless, but they assume you have like the perfect baby. Maybe consider the following: kids are dorks, man." Or: Steven went to the doctor. Once. Or: Greg thinks Steven, at 15 months, is being weird and missing milestones and is worried he's a bad dad so he goes to Vidalia for help.” May eventually be part of a babby Steeb over the years collection

Full Enclosure: “What am I going to tell you? You're better off not knowing the trouble I'm in. / I don't want you to worry about what I've just seen, about where I've just been. / You don't have to be a part of this, I don't think I want you to be! / You don't need this, you don't need me... Or: Steven defines himself by his connection to others. So when they all leave, then… he's no one. (In short: Steven is crushed by his need to be needed.)”

Vice: “He could stop whenever he wanted to. He just didn't want to. Or: Steven falls into a bad habit and tries to rationalize it as okay as long as he's not completely abandoning the idea of improving his life.”

Stairwell Solitude: “Over ten years, Greg wrote just six letters to his parents. What could they have contained?” Post-Mr. Universe

Striations: “At Connie's behest, Dr. Maheswaran makes a house call to Steven's place after his un-monstering. It's different than his last appointment, but its core is the same.”

Everything Stays: “Ever so slightly, daily and nightly, in little ways, when everything stays... Steven's therapist brings up something she's noticed about him outside his PTSD.”

I Do It For Me: “"Forgiveness is the intentional and voluntary process by which a victim undergoes a change in feelings and attitude regarding an offense, and overcomes negative emotions such as resentment and vengeance." Steven asks his therapist a question. The answer may surprise him.”

A Break in the Case: “Dr. Maheswaran takes a look at Steven's results but quickly finds herself in over her head.” Mid-Growing Pains

I have a couple entries in the @connieswap omake collection (Comic Relief and Same Old Steven)--I’m not linking them

Changing Tastes: “ Steven and Connie share a conversation after watching Crying Breakfast Friends: Under the Butterknife.”

Rejuvenated Regrets: “Someone calls Steven's name from downstairs. He's not listening closely enough to know who it is. He's not sure he cares right this moment. He wants Mom—Rose—Pink—and that's the one person he knows it's not.”

Gut Feeling: “Every time, he has to push his brain off that train of thought--what if she does it again?--but for someone with super-strength, he's surprisingly not very good at pushing.”

Lapis Watches Titanic (1997) ...There’s no summary

The Cluster Halloween Exquisite Corpse 2019 (I only wrote part of this!!): “Lars tells a horror story but loses track of it, or; a bunch of fic writers do an exquisite corpse and hilarity ensues. Written by DocCairo, citrusella, E350, love-killed-the-superstar and br42.”

Drift Away: “There are timelines where Steven fell into the biopoison when the Earth cracked under his feet. Here we see three times Steven (technically) lived despite a dive into pure poison, and one time he didn't.”

The Rose Wilts: “Once upon a time, he knew Rose. But he knew he didn't know everything.Sometimes it feels like he's learned more about her after she died than he ever knew while she was alive.“ Doug and Rose used to be friends

Tying the Knot: “Steven never wears shoes with laces, because he can't tie them. When Connie finds out, he's pretty chill about it.”

Haploid: “You're not sure if this is what being shattered feels like. You don't know if you want to be sure.” Mid-CYM

Thestral: “"How many have you seen?" "All of them." She answered without hesitation. "Oh." Or: Pearl and Steven talk about a type of gem that corruption has given some... special characteristics.”

500 Words a Secret Santa Gift: The Gratuitous Reference: “200 words a day, every day, until Under the Knife comes back. Or Crying Breakfast Friends. We're not picky at this point. Secret Santa edition! (A Secret Santa gift for @e350tb that deliberately and gratuitously references their 100 Words a Day series.)”

Sesimorp, Sesimorp: “A Lapis Lazuli makes a beautiful work of art.”

Ship Talk: “Lars and Steven share a moment on the Sun Incinerator.”

No Way Around It: “An order is an order.”

Give It A Try!: “Steven gets a Diamond to try something new.”

Better Off: “Peedee ponders what could have been.”

Steven x A Nice Calm Life Please and Thank You™: A Case for the Realization of a Bold New Ship: “Steven deserves a happy life free of interplanetary struggle and strife. It's my OTP. So I'm going to give him that! :D”

I Don't Know: “Will this ever make sense? Will this ever feel normal?” Post-ASPR

Force of Nature: “Her diamond gave her orders no longer.”

My Gemmortal (by XXXbloodstoneshardz666XXX): “the escupaids fo steven hardlight amnesia lion universe and his freinds n crushs” (this is exactly what it sounds like)

The Picture of Steven Pink: “It took a lot out of him.” (SU but Steven takes on the injuries he heals)

Self: “In the Connie Swap AU, Steven considers his identity and place in his family, community, culture, and himself. For a kid who at least tries to be all sunshine and rainbows, this isn't exactly the most fun thing to do, but sometimes it's necessary.” (these are different than the things in the CS omake collection)

I Really AM My Mom...: “"When you're singing, you want to use enough air that you could blow a throatful of peanut butter clear across the room." The crackiest of escape-from-Homeworld plots, based on a ClickHole article and a joke headcanon.”

Left: “Of course there's shame in bailing.”

Old shames (chronological order): Stories I just kinda cringe at now

Shrinking Rose: “Steven never felt bad about his stature. Until he did.” (I just don’t love it)

A Rose for Emily: “What if Rose wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone before Greg? ...It's safe to say she has a skeleton in her closet.” (less old shame than the others on this list but was hard to shoehorn in the A Rose for Emily style writing)

Alone: “Steven won't open up about how everything that happened is affecting him. Not even to himself.” (I know I’ve written other dark stuff but this one just hits different)

You Should've Asked Me, I'm Really Good at Naming Bands (November 2019 Unfinished WIPs): “(title subject to change) I did a challenge that I had to write my WIPs in November (revised to November and December) or be forced to post them unfinished. I got some updates done, but several not done. These are those stories. Dun-dun.” (only “shame” because they were things that were never finished--I also had a Connie Swap omake I was supposed to finish or the punishment was not to post it unfinished but to write Steven and Spinel (NOTP) but I just never did that)

#steven universe #steven universe future #steven universe fanfic #steven universe fanfiction #su fanfiction #su fanfic #long post #(it should be considering there are 78 FICS IN HERE)#THIS POST IS ITSELF THE SIZE OF A FANFIC #(68 fics not 78)

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wolfinshipclothing · 4 years ago

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Summary: I need to hurry up, she kept thinking. Any minute now, her dad could come home early, tired from a lazy dayshift. Or her mom could drop with the excuse she forgot something, and use the opportunity to check out on her daughter. Her independent, smart and intelligent daughter. Then Connie would have to explain to her what said daughter was doing sitting on her bed, in her bathrobe, fresh from the shower, holding a blood-stained shirt over her forearm, with a pair of scissors resting at her side.

The same pair of scissors that went missing a month ago, by the way.

Excerpt:

But what about you? You never tell me what's up," said Steven and Connie perceived the sourness. "How's cram school going?"

"It's going," she said flatly.

"That's good. How about Lion? I haven't seen the little rascal since forever."

"You know him. He comes and goes as he pleases."

"Right, right." Silence. She wished Steven would stop asking questions and just talk. "Connie, are you alright? You sound a bit under the weather; and I am the one about to be soaked."

Steven's attempt at humor was ignored; the red lines over Connie's arm caught all her attention. There was not a discussion inside her head. There was a whole fucking debate, with a hundred people committee and a chairman that was chewing her nails as she waiting for the lunch break.

"I don't know," she said, choosing simple words.

"What do you mean? Did something happen or…?"

"It's just one of these days, you know?"

Steven's silence asked her to elaborate. The cuts of her arms seemed to shine brighter, mocking her for her weakness.

Welp, i came crawling back from my hole with this fic. Mind you its a very angsty, sensible fic bout self-harming and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I wrote this because 1) its always Steven the one that is hurting and needs helps, and Connie the one who is there to put him back on his fic. Few times i have seen the opposite.

And 2) this has been a shitty year. To everyone in the world, obviously. Just have been very garbage to me. Or maybe I AM the one who was being garbage to myself. In any case, i haven’t been feeling well, and decided to write up my feelings into the characters i am currently hyper-fixating on.

Is it healthy? Who knows! But it DID made me feel better. I hope this fic, if it doesn’t trigger some catharsis in you guys, at least entertain you all for a while.

Anyway, that’s all. Happy Holidays and Happy New Year folks.

(You can also read it in Fanfiction, btw)

"You might imagine that a person would resort to self-mutilation only under extremes of duress, but once I'd crossed that line the first time, taken that fateful step off the precipice, then almost any reason was a good enough reason, almost any provocation was provocation enough. Cutting was my all-purpose solution." —Caroline Kettlewell, "Skin Game".

Connie’s mind was beyond herself; far, far away, where she couldn’t reach it. Her body was heavy; lead weight held together by rusted tin bolts. And Connie was trapped inside it, with no company but the stinging pain on her arm and the weight of the shirt she kept against it.

How long have I been like this? She wondered. It felt like hours. Her legs were like paper; where she not sitting on her bed, she would have already plummeted to the floor.

I need to hurry up, she kept thinking. Any minute now, her dad could come home early, tired from a lazy dayshift. Or her mom could drop with the excuse she forgot something, and use the opportunity to check out on her daughter. Her independent, smart and intelligent daughter. Then Connie would have to explain to her what said daughter was doing sitting on her bed, in her bathrobe, fresh from the shower, holding a blood-stained shirt over her forearm, with a pair of scissors resting at her side.

The same pair of scissors that went missing a month ago, by the way.

Connie lifted the shirt. The bleeding had stopped. The cuts were all dry out now —probably had been for a few minutes— but they still shined with a disgusting color. The marks from last time were underneath; red rivers over dried out canals. Feral slashes over healed scars.

Connie dropped her head onto her hands, elbows on her knees, and applied pressure over her temples. That usually helped her think.

“Stupid,” she said with a sore voice. “Stupid, stupid. You always do the same.”

Connie’s harming habit have come, less like a metaphorical descent into madness and more like a —also metaphorical— walk down a descending staircase, where each step would disappear behind you, leaving you no choice but to go further down, into the dark.

It gradually became a routine. If she’d messed up a test, she would spend all night studying the subject. If she’d snapped at her mom in a moment of hormonal-fueled rage, she would skip dinner —breakfast too, if possible. If she’d been so absorbed in her own world she’d ghosted her friends, she would train with her sword until her palms were all blistered. Small pinches of pain she could administer, in measurable doses and only when it was justified.

It was astounding how quickly she lost sight of what was measurable and justified.

But the real aggravating part of it, in Connie’s opinion, was how much of her time it takes. It’d taken her a whole morning of self-loathing for the static to take over her body. Once it did, she lost control and started attacking her outer forearm with swift, brutal slashes, instead of the controlled cuts she usually administered. When she saw what she’d done, she panicked and reached for her neatly folded white shirt. What a waste. She had barely bled a few fat drops, yet it was more than enough to ruin her favorite shirt.

She’d been quiet since then, holding the soon-to-be-rag over her arm and trying to grasp her slippery psyche at the same time. She could feel her body, but she wasn’t in it. Her brain was working itself to death, but she’d no control over its thoughts. Like Schrodinger’s cat, it was like she was there and not there at the same time. Alive and Dead. Connie has come to call this dissociative state ‘the limbo’. And she was knees deep in it now. And it must be past noon already!

If I could make my butt to get up and clean up this mess, maybe I could sit down and have some work done. Otherwise, this would be a lost day.

The thought loomed over her. A lost day. She couldn’t let that happen. Now she just had to find a way to get out of the fog of her mind…

The phone ringed. Connie as much as jumped from the bed, dropping the shirt and scissors on the floor. She reached for her phone on the table.

BISCUIT

Just left the hotel and hit the road. The engine sounds like it’s about to choke to death, tho. I hope it doesn’t break before reaching New Orleans. Call me when you have a break! Love you!

Connie sighed; her heart’s palpitations echoing in her ears. How ridiculous! Jumping to grab her phone as if she’d been caught. Like some bad horror movie; someone on the other side would said ‘you have been seen’ and then hang up, leaving Connie panicking like a fool. Ridiculous!

She grabbed the scissors and the shirt with one hand, the phone with the message she ought to respond in the other. She glanced at the bed; the sheets were wet, she ought to change those. Her arm was still stinging; she ought to treat the wounds. Also, she ought to get properly dressed. And her test was still on the desk, waiting for her…

Connie groaned and gravitated naturally towards the bed and felt into it. She’d never had trouble compartmentalizing before. She also had never been in the limbo this long before, however.

She found herself thinking of Steven; living on the open road, driving that tank with radio he calls ‘car’, doing whatever he wants, going whenever he wants to go —previously checking his rigorous list of places to go. Being whoever he wants to be.

This made Connie mad. She didn’t want to be mad. She rotated her phone in her hand several times, thinking.

I could call him, she thought. You are supposed to reach out when… in situations like this, right?

Her stomach grumbled with acid reflux. She definitely didn’t want to talk to Steven —nor anyone else, really. But hearing a friendly voice could be what she needs to get back on her feet.

She pressed the name on the screen and put the phone on speaker. It rang. Please don’t pick up, please don’t…

Schick.

“Hey Connie! What’s up?”

“Hey Steven. Are you busy?” she asked.

“Not at all. The road’s pretty calm. I think there is a storm coming though; there are some mean-looking clouds above me,” said Steven, a bit uncertain. “Are you on your break?”

In a manner of speaking. “Yeah. I just thought… you know, checking out on you.”

“Making sure I didn’t pick any new hitchhiker? I’ll let you know I haven’t done that since Miami Beach,” he laughed. “Seriously though, you should have seen the motel I crashed last night. ‘Sir-sleep-a-lot’ was the name, and it was great. There’d a real-looking imitation sword and shield above the bed! That’s the stuff you won’t see in any fancy-brand hotel.”

Connie smiled briefly. Despite everything that’d happened to Steven —and he really broke the limit of shit that could happen to a person—, he was still the same kind-hearted boy that got emotional over the simpler stuff.

“But what about you? You never tell me what’s up,” said Steven and Connie perceived the sourness. “How’s cram school going?”

“It’s going,” she said flatly.

“That’s good. How about Lion? I haven’t seen the little rascal since forever.”

“You know him. He comes and goes as he pleases.”

“Right, right.” Silence. She wished Steven would stop asking questions and just talk. “Connie, are you alright? You sound a bit under the weather; and I am the one about to be soaked.”

Steven’s attempt at humor was ignored; the red lines over Connie’s arm caught all her attention. There was not a discussion inside her head. There was a whole fucking debate, with a hundred people committee and a chairman that was chewing her nails as she waiting for the lunch break.

“I don’t know,” she said, choosing simple words.

“What do you mean? Did something happen or…?”

“It’s just one of these days, you know?”

Steven’s silence asked her to elaborate. The cuts of her arms seemed to shine brighter, mocking her for her weakness.

“I’m doing badly,” Connie said quickly. “I’m feeling real bad right now and I don’t even know why,” she added, only half-lying.

There was a long mmm on the other side of the line.

“Alright. I’m going home,” said Steven.

Connie’s heart started to race. “You can’t do that. You are driving... a-and your schedule-”

“I’ll just park on a side of the road. There are some nice trees I can park under. Then I’ll call Lion and be there in a flash.”

No, no, NO. “Steven, you really don’t have to.”

“It’s no problem at all! I want to be with you-“

“Steven, I don’t want to see you, OK!” Connie bolted upright, sitting on the bed. “Nobody asked you to do anything! Why do you always have to make things about yourself?”

Silence. A gust of wind came from the window, chilling Connie to the bones. She squeezed her left hand until it hurt. The scissors were still there. She glanced at her right arm; smooth and clean of any mark. Connie was right handed, but she could make an exception.

The thought alone shook her to her core, making her open her palm. The scissors felt with a clink-clank. She brought the phone closer to her face.

“Please,” Connie muffled a choke with her free hand, “please don’t go. Can you just talk to me?”

More silence, and there was a moment in which Connie knew ‘this is it, my best friend hates me forever’. But then there was a sliding noise, and the rumble of dirt being removed. There was also a distant boom; a storm was about to drop.

“I stopped the car,” said Steven. “I’m here for you, if you want.”

Great. It’s not like that’ll deepen Connie’s guilt.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated. Dark walls were closing around her, and the only source of light was her phone and the person on the other side. Obstinate tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Please don’t say that. I know… you know that’s not true,” Steven measured each word as he spoke. “Can you tell me what��s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, “I’m just being a big baby, that’s all.” No answer. He’s not gonna make it easy for her, is he? “I’m mad. Really mad.”

“Mad at me?”

Connie grumbled as an answer. She heard Steven’s struggle to swallow.

“Right. Not about me.”

“Exactly,” she said, although it was a half truth.

“I’m mad at myself,” she proceeded. “I’m mad because I fail at everything I do.” Connie took several breaths. Here comes the bomb: “I flunked at my practice college entrance test.”

More silence.

“Go on,”

“Aren’t you gonna say its stupid?” she asked cautiously. She’d expected a scoff, a snicker. Maybe even some laughter.

“I’m listening,” Steven insisted.

Connie tried to put some verbal sense in the ball yarn that was her mind.

“I really flunked it, you know,” she said, waiting —hoping— for a reprimand. “Even the stuff that I’ve studied and re-studied.”

“But it was just a practice test. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means everything, Steven,” she cried. “If I’d taken it today, I would have gotten a garbage grade.”

Connie cleaned the tears away with the back of her hand. The gust coming from the window was making her shiver. Her wet hair and the soaked sheets were not helping either.

“It like everything I had done, all the hard work I put into it was for nothing,” she said. “Everything feels so pointless.”

“I don’t think it was,” said Steven, carefully. “Even if you failed, you still practiced for the real one. Don’t give up. Going to college was your dream.”

“Was it? I don’t really know.” Connie bit her lip. “No, that’s a lie. I do want to go to college. I just wonder if it’s worth it. I mean, what’s the point of trying so hard if I fail anyway? Do you have any idea how many nights I lost for this? O-or how many times I had to put my friends on hold because I was busy studying?”

She stopped. She felt as if her breath was stolen from her.

“Of course you do,” she sighed. “And it was all for nothing. I failed at this as I fail at everything else.”

“What is ‘everything else’?”

Her blood was freezing cold, as was her answer. “You know.”

There it was again; the roar of thunder, followed by the sound of a million drops falling down. It was starting to rain somewhere.

“Connie,” said Steven, on the verge of shattering. “Have you been thinking about Homeworld?”

Connie clenched her free hand, her teeth, and everything else that required physical exertion.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be.”

“I know I have no right to feel bad about it. You are the one who suffered the most from it-”

She was cut by her own throat shutting down, and for a moment only tiny hiccups came out. There was a blinding, white rage inside her. It commanded her to grab her sword and slash, lunge and cut all her problems away. But she didn’t. She stood still and cried.

“But I was there too. I saw what White did to you and I couldn’t do anything.” Connie gasped for air. “I trained so hard for nothing. When you needed me I… I failed you.” She stopped to gasp and clean her tears. “H-how can I know I won’t be a mess in everything else I do, that I won’t flunk on my first year of college? Studying was the only thing I was good at and… and I’m not even good at it anymore and just…”

She stopped to let the tears roll freely. It was too much; too much weight, too many tears. Everything was in the air now. All her failures, all her fears, like an enveloping toxic cloud around her; it’d always been there, but now someone else could see it. In the middle of her wailing, she caught Steven’s concerned voice.

“Connie, can you hear me?”

It could be easy to hang up now, forget this ever happened, and call back when she was strong and put together. ‘Hey Steven, sorry about that, everything is better now’. But Connie couldn’t do that —not to him. She mumbled a reply.

“Alright. I want you to breathe with me, OK? Can you do that?”

Well, that’s easy for him to ask. He’s not the one hyperventilating. And to think many times she’d said the same, when Steven was going through a panic attack. How the turntables indeed.

She knew the instructions to the letter, but she coordinated them to Steven’s voice. Four seconds inspiration. Hold it for seven seconds. Eight seconds exhalation. They repeated it until every corner of Connie’s mind was occupied with this routine.

“Feeling better?” Steven asked.

Connie noticed she wasn’t crying anymore and with one last sniff she said: “A bit.”

“Good. Now I want you to listen,” said Steven. “First, just because I was the one who was attacked doesn’t mean I got the monopoly on trauma.” He stopped to see if his joke caused any effect. ”What I mean to say is, that day was… it was a literal hell for all of us. Maybe more to me than to the gems, but it was so for you too because, like you said, you were there with me.”

“Which brings me to the second point: nothing of what happened in Homeworld, or that happened to me, to us, was your fault,” Steven said, firmly and fluently, like a practiced speech. “And there was nothing you could have done to prevent it. I know you are mad because you couldn’t take a swing at White’s giant nose…”

Connie laughed. She imagined Steven raising a triumphant fist into the air.

“But you did help me. You carried me to… to me! If I’m alive now, it’s because of you. And I should…” Steven stopped. Connie could see him, hand on his mouth, trying to hold the tears back and be the rock she needed. She knew that feeling too well. “I should’ve told before how much you did to me. You saved my life back then, a-and then you saved me again, months ago, when I got corrupted.”

Connie gasped. Steven never brought that topic unprompted, and he never called it for what it was. It was always ‘the incident’.

“You were there for me since day one,” Steven laughed dryly. “Actually, I should be the one apologizing. You had to go through all of that because of me.”

“I wanted to do it,” Connie retorted. “I wanted to go through all of that with you.”

“That doesn’t make it right. It wasn’t fair.”

Connie huffed. They were scratching the surface of a deeper conversation. Because Connie was mad for wanting to go to Homeworld so bad, and for all the times her life was in danger before that. And she was mad at her parents —what were they thinking? They shouldn’t have let Connie run around with a sword, fighting a war that wasn’t her own; they should have locked her up until she was eighteen. Damn, she was mad at the whole Universe for needing to be saved. They were kids! Stupid kids who didn’t knew better than to take such a task over their shoulders.

And deep down, in a corner she dared not to look, she was mad at Steven. Because from the first day they meet, he chose her. To be his friend, his partner-in-crime, his… And in an even deeper place, Connie was mad at herself. Because she had chosen Steven too, and if it came to it, she would do it all again. Back then, in the middle of the chaos, with the fear of death and the threat of the destruction of the Earth as her everyday bread and butter, life made sense.

But now the war was over, and the books Connie studied so much felt as unreal as any fantasy novel. How do you go back to being normal after having a destiny?

Connie let her head fall back and softly touch the wall. She was far too tired to shine light on those darks corners. She just wanted to rest. She was half-way napping when Steven’s voice brought her back.

“Connie? Connie, are you there? Please talk to me.”

Connie slapped herself awake. “I’m here Steven. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she said, as convinced as anything. “How about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“But I do.”

“Well I… I worry about you!” Steven protested. “So I guess we are in a loop here.”

That comment wasn’t particularly funny, but Connie started to laugh; a short, weak laugh that grew up to be a roar. On the other side, Steven laughed too.

“Oh man. This sure feels familiar doesn’t it?” said Steven, and eased a bit on the laughter. “I guess you are better at making me feel better than I am doing it for you.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself so short. I do feel better. A little,” she confessed. “I’m sorry you had to deal with me being dumb. I don’t know what came over me.”

Steven was quiet for a while. When he spoke again, it was with the clearness of a professor giving class.

“Connie, do you remember one of the first things Dr. A. told me when I started therapy?

“Life sucks?” She heard Steven breathing raggedly, trying not to laugh.

“That is the first thing,” he said in a short breath, “but I mean the second first thing.”

Connie scratched her head. “The thing about the pond?”

“The frozen lake,” he corrected. “She said that, for people with depression —not saying you have it— or have gone through some trauma —again, not pointing fingers—, anxiety is like a frozen lake. Every day you bring new problems to the lake; little, everyday stuff that’s not too heavy. Then some days you bring heavier stuff, and the ice starts to crack, but you don’t notice because you hide the heavy stuff under the lighter stuff. Finally one day, you bring a new little problem and you put it on top of the pile. You know what happens next?”

“The ice breaks?”

“It breaks,” said Steven, like a satisfied lecturer. “It breaks and you fall in the frozen water, with all of that heavy shit you have been hiding.”

Connie’s hand grabbed the front of her bathrobe. She was still not used to hearing Steven Cutie Pie DeMayo Universe curse —even if she was the one who taught him the coolest words (besides Amethyst, of course).

“I remember the story now,” Connie scratched her head, feeling the hard knots of her hair. “I always thought it was a bit complex as a metaphor.”

“My point is-“

“Why not use a house of cards? Every anxious thought is a new card, and as you pile them up, the house loses stability. Finally, one day, it just falls under its own weight,” Connie explained with renewed vigor. “See? It paints a much clearer picture.”

“The point, Miss Wiseguy,” grunted Steven, and Connie could see him folding his arms. “Is that if you don’t want the ice to break-“

“Or the house of cards to fall.”

“Or the house of cards to fall,” he conceded, “you have to deal with that heavy stuff before you are overwhelmed. You don’t need to do that now,” he added, predicting her complain. “But at some point, you will need to talk to someone. Your parents or your friends… Or I can give you Dr. A.’s number. She knows everything we went through.”

“That ought to save me some time,” she said. “Maybe she’ll give me a discount card of ‘Friends of Steven Universe’.”

“See? Now you are being positive,” Steven laughed.

Connie smiled sadly. “What about you?”

“I’ll always be here for you. By phone, video chat, or to visit you… If you want me to,” he whispered that last part.

“Only if you promise to not turn into a Kaiju when we start exposing my inner demons.”

“Ha ha,” he said robotically. “I’ll assume by your sarcasm that you are the same old Berry now.”

Connie mulled about it for a few seconds. The cloud of anxiety was slowly banishing, and she no longer felt the claustrophobic walls closing around her.

“Yes, I’m good now. Thanks to yo-aaah” a loud, long yawn took over her. “Sorry. Guess I’m more worn out than I thought.”

“Yeah, I can tell… Have you really not been sleeping at all?”

“Unless you count passing out of tiredness as sleeping,” she joked.

“Ah,” said Steven. “Have you been, well… you know?”

Connie didn’t answer. She knew what he meant, but she’d no voice to say it.

“Connie, have you been hurting yourself?”

“This conversation is hurting me.”

“Connie.”

The phone vibrated and got hot to the touch, before cooling down real fast. Connie’s head vibrated too, like a snow globe being shaken. Steven’s control over electric devices had been growing.

She lifted her arm to look at the cuts; they still stung, although she hasn’t been paying attention to it. All the slashes were dry and had a dull color.

Fuck it, why not?

“Just a few cuts,” she said flatly, “with my mom’s scissors.”

There was silence for a while, but Steven’s was still there; his breath was ragged and odd. Has he turned pink? Did Connie throw him into a panic attack?

Finally, he spoke: “Connie, I need you to do me a favor.”

Oh boy, that doesn’t sound good at all. “What is it?”

“Throw those scissors away.”

Connie pursed her lips. “Steven, I can’t do that. My mom would be mad,” she said, although it was a poor excuse. If Connie cared about her mother’s feelings, she wouldn’t have stolen the scissors in the first place.

“I know. I don’t pretend to tell you what to do,” he said, measuring his words like a baker measures flour, “but it’s something that helped me a lot. I mean, when I was in a bad place, I would go into these blank moments when I wasn’t thinking at all.” Connie nodded. He was talking about the limbo. “When I started therapy, I was told to try to be more conscious of myself. More present. So when I felt I was, you know, getting in the mood,” Steven groaned at his own choice of words, “I would take a step back and do something different. We can’t always control our situation or our mood or even our actions, but we can make small changes to have some power over ourselves.”

The way Steven spoke in plural said that he wasn’t doing vain motivational talk; he was talking from a place he’d been in… and maybe still was. Connie remembered sitting on Steven’s bed, trying to cheer him up to eat or step outside and get some fresh air. She also remembered coming home, locking herself in the bathroom and taking a long shower while she cried.

Connie held onto that thought and sat on the bed. She picked the scissors with her free hand and put that memory in them. She also put the memories of White Diamond, the monsters’ attack on Beach City, the arguments with her mother. All her anger, her insecurities, her fear of not knowing who she was— she grabbed all of it and put it into a ball, one she was carrying in her throwing hand. She extended her arm all the way behind her back. And when the wind blew the curtains opens, she propelled her arm forward like a whip.

The scissors —and metaphorical ball— broke free of her hand, made a straight line and finally flew out of the window; out of sight.

Connie stood still, catching her breath. The first thing she noticed was that her chest, while still swelling with anger, felt notably lighter. The second thing was Steven’s voice calling her from the phone. The final thing she noticed made her scream:

“Holy shit!”

“What? What happened?” she heard Steven calling to her.

“I threw the scissors out of the window!”

“…WHAT?”

Connie dashed towards the window, holding her bathtub with her free hand, and stuck her head outside.

“Is everyone ok?”

“Yeah… yeah I think so,” said Connie with a relieved breath. “The street is desert at this time. Anyway, I think I can see the scissors. They felt right by the trash can, so maybe I accidentally stabbed a rat?”

Steven was hyperventilating, but he took a break from it to scoff at her. “Now is no time for jokes, missy! Oh man… you could have killed someone! Why did you do that?”

“Because you told me to, you dumb-dumb!”

“I didn’t tell you to throw a sharp object out of the window, you dumb-dumb!”

Connie shook her head. “Forget it, I don’t want to fight.” She leaned against the wall and let gravity slid her to the floor.

“Me neither,” said Steven. The sound of rain was quieter now. “At least did that helped?”

“Yes. Almost killing innocent bystanders always cheers me up.”

“That’s my girl,” Steven laughed and so did Connie, albeit weaker.

Still, she felt better. Her body was recharging energy quickly and her mind was emerging from whatever black hole it had been hiding in.

“I think I can go on with my day now,” she said and she meant it.

“Are you sure?” Steven asked. Connie reaffirmed her decision. “Well, that’s awesome. So… would it be cool if I drop by and check on you?”

Connie’s heart started to race up again as the anxiety came back. Check on you. Like she was sick and she needed to be taken care of.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now,” she said, firmly. “But later. Definitely later. I’ll call you.”

“But I… OK. Alright, w-we’ll talk later then.”

Steven sounded really bummed out, but Connie could pay it no mind now, lest she wanted to feel down the whole again. “Thanks for everything. And I’m sorry I made you stop in the middle of a storm,” she said.

“Oh it’s not so bad. Kinda weird though,” said Steven. “You know, usually you hide from the rain, lock yourself inside and look at it from the window of your house. But I’m under it right now. The sky is falling around me but I’m as dry as clean clothes. And, I don’t know, it’s beautiful. It makes you appreciate everything there is, even stuff that’s supposed to be ugly. Does it make sense?”

The words struck something deep inside Connie, but whatever meaning Steven was trying to transmit was ignored. She was not in the mood for lessons right now.

“I know what you mean,” she swiftly said. “So I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright then. Please be safe. And call me.”

“I will.”

“Ok… I love you.”

Connie blushed. “Goodbye.” She cut the call. She should have said something else, something more. She didn’t know why she had been in such a rush to hang up.

She just knew saying ‘I love you’ was easier when they weren’t dating.

With one long, invigorating breath, Connie stood up. She stretched her arms over her head until her bones cracked, then she bended and touched her finger toes until her legs were burning.

With the sudden rush of adrenaline, thinking became easier. The rage was gone and her chest didn’t feel as heavy. Connie has left the limbo, at least for now.

She looked for her phone. Her last study break was one hour ago. Most of that time had been spent talking to Steven. So much time —hers and his— wasted in vain…

Alright Connie, compartmentalize. There’s a lot to do. What comes first? She asked herself. Well, her red, stinging arm would be a good starting point. She headed for her bedroom’s bathroom and closed the door shut.

The bathroom was still mildly warm from the shower she took. The first aid kit was where she left it; resting over the sink, opened. It’s where Connie usually hid the scissors. She hung the bathrobe on a perch and checked the cuts on the mirror. They ran deeper than Connie’s usual handiwork, so she applied the process she used for her training injuries. Soap and water to wash the wounds. Dry well, apply antiseptic to prevent infection and then bandage the whole thing, from the elbow to the wrist. She’ll have to change the bandages after tomorrow at least.

Some petroleum jelly could help the wound heal faster and prevent scarring, and Connie’s mom had some in her first aid kit but she discarded that thought. Explaining to her mom how she got these wounds was out of question.

Connie was about to put the kit away when an idea hit her. She brought the bandages out and applied them over her right arm —her clean, unharmed right arm. There; now if anyone, be it her mom or her friends asked, she could appeal to a training accident. And if her mom wants to check the wound herself, Connie will show her the right arm. Her mom will comment on how well the injury had healed, or she’ll simply believe Connie was overreacting to a minor rash. In any case, she’ll be none of the wiser.

Connie looked at herself in the mirror —naked, except for the bandaged arms. Her reflection smiled sadly. You think you are so cunning, don’t you?

With that done, she left the kit over the sink and tiptoed into her cold room. She went to the wardrobe and chose a long sleeved shirt, some jogging pants, and a sweater.

Next thing were the sheets. They were soaked; perfect to catch pneumonia. Connie started to take them off. She stopped and instead she left her room —with the same feeling as Robinson Crusoe leaving his island—, and headed for the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of juice and drank it like an old man in the desert. She poured another glass and headed back upstairs.

Once in her bedroom, she took off the sheets, rolled them all into a ball and poured the orange juice over the sheets, with extra care as to not wet the mattress. The textile absorbed the juice like a sponge. Finally, she went back downstairs, threw the sheets into the dishwasher and set it on. In the unlikely event her mom questioned Connie about her dropping a glass of juice on the bed; Connie only had to point at the orange colored stains.

They’ll disappear after a few washes, anyway. Ironically, the marks on Connie’s arm might last longer. She entertained the idea of putting her shirt to wash, but she scratched it off. Being a doctor’s daughter, she knew blood stains were a pain to get rid of.

Satisfied with what she had accomplished, Connie’s heart gave a little thud as she approached the door. She didn’t feel like going for a walk, but she’d to recover the, sort of speak, crime’s weapon. She stepped outside and walked aimlessly around the sidewalk for a minute, looking for the scissors. She found them on the floor right next to the trash can. Five inches left and they would have landed on top of the trash. It really makes your mind think.

Or someone else’s mind. Not Connie’s. She didn’t have time to metaphors.

She knelt to pick the scissors. And then she saw them; or rather, they saw her. On the other side of the street, a young couple crossed sights with her. They keep their glance on her for less than five seconds before walking away, laughing. It was enough to throw Connie down a hole. Eyes seemed to materialize out of thin air, staring faces, judgmental glances; all of them pointing at Connie. All of them knew what she’d done. She’d been seen.

Connie dashed inside the house and slammed the door behind her. She felt to the ground, short of breath. That couple must be on their way now, totally oblivious of the effect they caused on Connie, and she can’t blame them; she couldn’t predicted that either. Her social anxiety had been tame for so long, Connie thought it was a thing of the past. That’s another thing to scratch out of her accomplishments list.

Nevertheless Connie had the scissors in her shaking hands, and all she wanted was to put them away.

She stood up and moved around the house exhausted. She picked a pair of clean sheets and went back to her room. She locked the door, shut down the windows and closed the curtains. She breathed out loudly. Now she was unseen and nobody could judge her.

She set the clean sheets on the bed. A strong scent of lavender hit her. Finally, she went to the bathroom; put the scissors inside the first aid kit, under everything else, and put the kit on the back of the cabinet, until next time.

Next time… now that was an upsetting thought.

With everything else done, she just had to get rid of the shirt. She had second thoughts about washing it, since throwing it away would be complicated. Feeling a headache incoming, Connie opened her closet and threw the bloody rag inside. It wasn’t like her to postpone things, but… who was she kidding? This is standard Connie’s stress dealing procedure.

Connie looked at everything she’d done, and felt at peace for the first time that day. Then her eyes felt onto her standing mirror.

Oh no, this won’t do, she thought, meaning her hair. More specifically, the crow nest that had taken over her head and that she usually called hair.

She grabbed her blue hairbrush. Her hair was so entangled the regular ministrations won’t do, so she attacked it with brutal brushing motions. In the meantime, her mind kept producing images. Steven under the heavy rain, checking the soaked engine that broke down when he stopped to talk to her. The disappointed glance of her mom when she finds out all the scheming Connie went through to hide the truth. Her own hands shaking with anxiety as she takes the real test and she realizes she doesn’t know any answers.

She set the brush down. There. Now the image in the mirror was presentable —although some days, Connie wasn’t sure if it was really hers.

“I’m alright,” she said, with a voice that felt alien even to her. “I’ll be fine. I’m a warrior,” she added, more convinced with each word.

She was a warrior. Maybe she’d lost her center, but she could find it. She could be strong again. Once she gets a grip of herself and gets into college, everything will be alright.

Right? Right.

With this new resolution, Connie walked to her worktable. Her failed test was still there. Next to it was the half-done new test she had been working on when the static became too much.

Now, she could keep working and pretend all of this never happened. That this was just a very long study break, that everything she did was normal and healthy. It’s what she was expected to do, right?

Once again she thought of Steven, taking time from his trip to sit down under a deluge to talk to her. Breathe with her, as if they were one.

Connie’s hand reached towards the test… And then went left, grabbed the nearest book and dropped it over the papers.

This can wait… she thought, uncertain.

“This can wait,” she verbalized defiantly to the World.

With that problem done for, she had a free afternoon. She tapped her chin —she hasn’t had this free time in a while.

She picked her phone and flipped through the library. There was this reboot of ‘Crying Breakfast Friends’ that Steven had been bugging her to watch, but she’d been rain checked until she could pass the test. Maybe it’s time to keep the study waiting. She shuddered at that inch of her rebellious younger self taking over.

She picked her earphones and lay comfortable on her fresh, lavender-scented sheets. Five minutes into the first episode and she was cackling and crying with a cartoon about animated fruits while her papers —her physical future— waited on the table. And they’ll keep waiting until tomorrow.

Connie didn’t know if this was a step forward or backwards. But a step’s a step nonetheless; and she was still moving.

#connie maheswaran #Steven quartz universe #connverse #self-harm #tw: blood #ptsd mention #dissociation

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