#i fucking guarantee you she would make the exact same joke about any one of our classmates and wouldn't question it

[snaggletoothedbastard]

this girl i go to school with: everyone at drama club was too loud and [my best friend] made a childish joke to me and i'm still mad about it >:(

also her: *verbally abuses all of our classmates for the LOLs*

[iztopher]

FOR THE ASK GAME

Teijal 👻👽🦾💝💔🪢🔪🌟

Galahad 🧸🦾😺

Rhen 🫂📓💝

Beatrice 👻🌟🥇

(I realise this is a lot lol but if you want you can just answer the teijal ones!! Also for any of them you may add a random headcanon if you so desire)

saw this ask and said to danny out loud "when nobody else has got me xzoni has got me" THANK U!!!!

LONG POST INCOMING LOL

Te'ijal

👻 A headcanon about what scares them: death! or rather, ceasing to exist. mortality. she's sooo used to being immortal she's existential and terrified of anything else. similarly, the people she cares about dying. loneliness in general doesn't scare her, but loneliness because she's lost the people she's close to does.

👽 A headcanon about a weird quirk of theirs: everything Te'ijal does is a weird quirk let's be real here. I never have opportunity to put this into stuff I'm working on (I should draw it sometime) but I like to think she likes hanging upside down.

🦾 A disability headcanon: hm. how very interesting that you sent me this for Te'ijal and Galahad /j. I've got one and a half - one for canonverse (well, any verse) and half of one specifically for modern AUs! my canonverse is a developmental disability, autistic Te'ijal is my everything. for modern AU specifically - uhh I don't know if this actually counts as a disability because there's certainly a lot of overlap but it like, depends a lot, I think (at least based on personal experience) but I like to be self indulgent and make her a cancer survivor (probably a blood related one. nooo I'm not projecting I prommy).

💝 A headcanon about their love language: quality time... no surprise from the immortal I am sure

💔 An angsty headcanon: okay, hi, yes, so that thing about her being terrified of death? about that? I think she is like, genuinely super fucked up over the tower scene. I think it shook up her relationship w/ Galahad a little bit, and Gyendal significantly, and I'm not sure how thoroughly she lets herself think about it. I think she has trouble sleeping in rooms with windows ever since and wakes up way earlier than she'd realistically need to. Honestly on my far away wishlist to one day write is a fic exploring this as a traumatic event for her and the fallout of it because like - Yeah. Yeah.

🪢 A headcanon about their family: she and Gyendal are kind of sort of twins! they both came into existence as fully fledged vampires, born out of people's belief in the existence of vampires. they emerged from the same tomb together on the same night.

🔪 A headcanon relating to fighting/violence: BITE BITE MAIM MAIM KILL KILL. I love the idea of her using her bow and arrow to hunt humans the same way a human hunter would kill like, deer. Overall the idea of extrapolating her eating humans to actively hunting them is delightful to me.

🌟 A headcanon about their desires/wishes: I think Te'ijal like... wants to figure out how to bridge her fondness for humanity and her love of being a vampire. I think she feels kind of stuck between the two and is constantly trying to find ways to anchor herself to humanity. I headcanon she turned Beatrice in an attempt to find someone to share this middle ground with and it backfired because Beatrice liked being a vampire a little too much, so then she turned Galahad who seemed the guarantee of the exact opposite hoping he'd come around and meet her in the middle.

Galahad

🧸 A headcanon about their childhood: My Galahad childhood headcanon is the backstory Rhenegade gives him, aka an orphan raised by a religious order in Sedona who became the squire of a paladin as a young teen and the rest is history. I think as a result of this he had pretty much zero friends until he was a preteen, but on a conscious level he is not bothered by this because he was content to socialize with the caring but admittedly aloof adult figures he spent his time around. this is, in no small part, part of why he is Like This.

🦾 A disability headcanon: same snide joke as for Te'ijal! I'm almost bummed that these are highlighting the same headcanon essentially, but also I love talking abt it, so, developmental disability, this man is autistic.

😺 An animal related headcanon: he learned how to ride a horse as part of his paladin training! but he is not good with animals and he does not really do it ever.

Rhen

🫂 A friendship headcanon: I think she was originally friends with and looked up to Te'ijal and Elini when they both joined the party, but gets some distance from them after everything happens with Galahad and John, respectively. She's still friends with them, but it's more awkward/strained and no longer has this starry eyed "look at these competent and cool adults" element anymore.

📓 A headcanon about their hobbies: I really like the idea of a bookish, daydreamy Rhen. That, admittedly, is originally from Rhenegade, so for one of my own, I think she and her friends/family used to go camping growing up and she really enjoyed it! I like the idea of a Rhen

💝 A headcanon about their love language: Hmmm probably quality time and words of affirmation. I think Rhen really wants to know she's being seen for who she is by someone who loves her, and things like really apt compliments or assurances she was hoping for, and spending time with her, are good ways to accomplish that.

Beatrice

👻 A headcanon about what scares them: Oh man this is fun because this is not one I've ever considered for her before. I think Beatrice is afraid of losing her influence, and of not being listened to. This definitely manifests more as anger and a desperate, manipulative bid to get back in control, however.

🌟 A headcanon about their desires/wishes: I think she deliberately became a vampire to gain supernatural powers! I think she likes being in control, not just of her life, but whatever situation she's in.

🥇 A headcanon about what they’re best at: I don't think Beatrice has any innate magical ability, but I think she has a lot of knowledge and skills that come pretty much as close as she can get. She stands out to me as an Aveyond character I see as skilled with magic without technically having any.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 324: Is There a Force Field Around Him??

Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal was all “please tell Midoriya that I spent a concerningly small amount of money upgrading U.A. into a wacky physics-defying funtime grid so as to make the final battle much more confusing for everyone.” Present Day!Mic (or Present!Mic, if you will) and Jeanist were all “if only somebody could deescalate this dangerously unhinged mob, we’ve tried nothing and we’re all out of ideas.” Ochako was all “LISTEN UP PEOPLE.” The mob was all, “god??” Ochako was all, “NO, IT’S ME, OCHAKO. I’M REALLY HIGH UP ON THIS BUILDING AND THE VISIBILITY IS LOW DUE TO THE RAIN, SO I CAN SEE HOW YOU MIGHT MAKE THAT MISTAKE. ANYWAYS, DEKU WAS OUT THERE RISKING HIS LIFE FOR YOU CLOWNS EVEN THOUGH HE’S JUST A KID, SO I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD ALL REMEMBER HOW TO BE DECENT HUMAN BEINGS, THANKS.” Let’s see if her Big Scolding Energy has any impact.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “so I have this speech planned out, and it’s really good, but it also only really needs about 6 to 8 pages, but I’m gonna see if I can stretch it out to 17 pages so I can kill time before we get to the next volume cliffhanger two weeks from now.” Anyway but it really is a good speech though. There are feels, and tears, and more talk about how Deku is so in need of a shower that just looking at him requires a tetanus booster, and more feels, and more tears, and bonus ship drama, and an iconic callback to the very first chapter which reframes the entire series in a new context in a totally epic and moving way, and it’s all very good. Except that Horikoshi is determined to never let anyone actually give this kid a hug. Who hurt you, dude.

omg we are opening on a callback to chapter 212, a.k.a. the chapter with by far the cutest flashback that doesn’t involve any baby Todorokis

baby Ochako is lethally cute. she could literally murder someone with her cuteness. I just want to scoop her up and play airplane with her until she accidentally activates her quirk while we’re spinning around and we both helicopter up into the air never to be seen again

“a child’s insistence” huh well that’s all well and good, but I sure hope this doesn’t mean we’re going to drag out the whole “sternly lecture the obnoxious citizens” plot for another whole chapter. no offense but I think we’re good

so page 2 is just continuing the whole happy/worried faces monologue, which of course is very important to Ochako’s character as it provides the context for why “who protects the heroes” ended up becoming her thing. and this is making me think we actually are in for a whole second chapter of this sob. when will my boy finally get to rest

OH MY GOD SUDDENLY THESE PEOPLE HAVE EYES IMAGINE THAT

HORIKOSHI: [reaches for a box of tissues while tearfully penning an homage to his beloved Spider-Man 2, specifically the train scene where the crowd sees Peter without his mask and they suddenly realize just how young he is]

HORIKOSHI’S HOMAGE SCENE: “COME TO THINK OF IT, I GUESS IT WAS KIND OF MEAN FOR US TO PICK ON THIS TEN YEAR OLD KID WHO WEIGHS 75 POUNDS AND LOOKS LIKE HE LOST A FIGHT WITH SATAN’S MOLDY OLD BASEMENT”

lol at this one guy who can feel the mood of the crowd shifting and is all “WAIT, NO, I WANTED TO KEEP BEING AN ASSHOLE DAMMIT”

as many pointed out last week, this man is wearing an All Might shirt. that’s some fantastic irony there

-- SDKFJWIGKS

“LITTLE GIRL, I HOPE YOU’RE NOT SUGGESTING THAT WE SHOULD ALL BE WALKING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A SOVIET-ERA BUS STOP.” heh. last week I said I was ashamed of BnHA being my favorite manga. that was a lie, actually

(ETA: in the original Japanese Ochako’s next two lines are basically “the only ones covered in mud will be us heroes!” followed by “please give us some time to get rid of the mud”, with that second line basically being the single funniest thing I’ve ever read rdslkjl. Ochako thank you so much for supporting my running gags. “YEAH WE KNOW HE’S DIRTY. WE ARE GONNA TRY AND CLEAN HIM UP, BUT IT MAY TAKE A WHILE, I’M JUST SAYING. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. HE LOOKS LIKE AN ASBESTOS COSPLAY.”)

doesn’t the megaphone kind of look ever so slightly like an axe that she’s wielding maniacally here

easy there Lizzie Borden

also that’s a really bold claim to make there. and not one she necessarily should have to make, either. but as we all know, there’s nothing that shounen manga likes more than having its heroes bravely hoist heavy burdens of responsibility like good self-sacrificing citizens

p.s. lowkey loving how Kacchan is positioned here standing slightly behind Deku. not presuming to stand in front of him all overprotectively (because he would hate if anyone ever did that to him), and kind of being unobtrusive and letting others take center stage -- but still being close enough to Deku that he can catch him if he stumbles or passes out again

(ETA: or maybe not lmao.

DEKU: [falls to his knees]

KACCHAN: [glancing up from his phone a few minutes later] “someone just sent me the stupidest meme about milk crates -- oh. uh. you good...?”

really, son. “the burdens you can’t carry, we’ll carry them for you. ...later, I mean. right now it’s late, and we’re all cold and wet.”)

also lowkey loving this OchaTsu moment here

I was going back and binging Ochako chapters this past week for reasons, and I gotta say it really stuck out to me just how often these two are paired with each other. they do everything together. it’s a really sweet friendship that often goes unappreciated but it’s very cute

meanwhile, not to be outdone by the OchaTsu, Iida is staring at Ochako with open admiration talking about how she’s fighting too. it’s been so long since we’ve had any IidaRaka you guys. I was starving and I didn’t even know it

oh my lord IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

THE LIGHT IS BACK. he finally looks like him again. what a cathartic fucking moment omg

ffklkdw

“I KNOW YOU ARE ALL SCARED, BUT THE GOOD NEWS IS, WE DEFINITELY CANNOT GUARANTEE YOUR SAFETY AND WE ARE ALL SCARED TOO!” good pep talk there kiddo

BUT, jokes aside, truth be told this is the exact right approach to take imo, and something that’s long overdue. I’ve said this before, but this new generation of heroes is shaping up to be much more transparent than the All Might generation. they’re basically abandoning the almighty, untouchable Superman “heroes as gods” concept in favor of the more nuanced “heroes as people” concept instead. and that’s a good thing. seeing their heroes as humans, with human limitations and weaknesses and flaws, will hopefully not only lead to more scrutiny and accountability, but also more awareness of how hard some of them are working and how much they’re sacrificing. that’s something All Might never quite grasped back at the start of the series -- that the weak, vulnerable, injured him could be just as inspiring as the mighty, invincible him -- perhaps even more so. there’s a power in seeing otherwise ordinary people show extraordinary bravery and compassion. it inspires others to try and do the same

SSDLHK AIZAWA SIGHTING AAHHHHHH

so he was still back at the hospital this whole time?? smdh at this disrespect. that feeling when your sexy self-insert character’s powers of rationality are too strong, and so you have to nerf him so that he doesn’t ruin your Deku Angst arc twice over by (1) immediately talking some sense into Deku and making him come home Right This Instant Young Man, and (2) not allowing him to leave U.A. in the first fucking place. excuse me, you want to do WHAT now, Midoriya?? that’s it, go to your room

also living for Katsuki and Hawks’s soft expressions. Shouto’s too, although his is tinier and harder to see. and Jeanist’s 12-foot-long neck. imagine Jeanist’s head with Mic’s hair. maybe Jeanist had a mohawk back in the day and that’s why U.A.’s doors are so big now

speaking of soft faces, Enji’s is also excellent

what could this random close-up possibly imply?? hell if I know. but Horikoshi truly fears no discourse and that’s what I love about him

OMGGGG

“smh my child is so dumb.” poor Ochadad. your child is cute af count your blessings

SDOFFHSMH

I’m telling you guys. lethally, catastrophically cute

this speech is still ongoing lol. Horikoshi you’re doing so good but I think we get the point now my dude. you gotta learn how to transition out of these things

UNEXPECTED TOGA WHAT

“there we go” Horikoshi says, crossing off the last line on his list of Ochako ships. “that’s all of ‘em”

poor Ochako is just repeating the same “LET HIM REST, PLEASE, WITH EVERYONE’S COOPERATION, IF YOU DON’T MIND, WE APPRECIATE IT” talking points over and over again hoping someone will throw her a bone and acknowledge her already. SOMEONE PLEASE HELP HER

literally they’re all just staring up at her silently omg. work with me people!!

now she’s saying it for the 56th time but more dramatically all of a sudden

they got so dramatic that for a minute I thought she had suddenly leaped off the building or something

look, not to rush you or anything Horikoshi, but I’m starting to get the feeling that this is yet another one of those “the volume is ending soon so I need to either hurry things up or slow things down in order to make sure we end it on my perfect cliffhanger ending” chapters where you go to ridiculous lengths to drag things out much to the exasperation of your week-to-week readers

(ETA: ftr, volume 31 ended on chapter 306, and I’m predicting that vol. 32 will end with chapter 316 (a.k.a. “you’re next!” [explodes]). I’m guessing vol. 33 will follow suit and likely end on chapter 326, so keep your eyes peeled for a big cliffhanger in two weeks’ time. Deku’s dad?? All Might in peril?? U.A. traitor at long fucking last?? we shall see.)

is Deku straight up falling in love with Ochako right on the spot lol what is happening

I know I just said that I enjoy when Horikoshi gives zero fucks about discourse, but shipping discourse is a whole different beast lol. I hope he’s prepared

(ETA: and for the record, I have no interest in shipping discourse either, as always. and I think this scene can be interpreted as platonic, tbh, with the context being that Ochako was literally introduced as someone who was willing to help him so casually without a second thought, and now here she is saving him again.

I don’t think it really fully hit Deku until this moment how much he needed saving. like I said in another meta somewhere, selflessness is basically just selfishness on behalf of others. and Deku is selfless to a fault, but that’s okay, and it doesn’t mean he needs to change -- he just needs friends who are willing to be be selfish on his behalf in turn. and I think the full emotion of what it means to have friends like that just hit him at last. everything his friends have done for him, how much he needed it and didn’t even realize, and how grateful he is. anyways what a terrible day for rain.)

-- son of a --

is he apologizing?? or pleading?? please tell me that’s not the case, because what the actual fuck. Deku you beautiful precious radiant selfless child, this is the exact opposite of how this should be. all these motherfuckers should be on their knees apologizing to you

DEKU WHY

I DIDN’T ASK FOR THIS FREAKING BOMBARDMENT OF EMOTIONS GODDAMIT. OUT HERE ARMED WITH YOUR FREAKING TREBUCHET OF FEELS TO LAUNCH AT ME UNPROVOKED. WHAT’S WITH THAT

FREAKING CHRIST. THIS BOY IS CRYING HIS EYES OUT AND HORIKOSHI IS JUST ZOOMING IN WITH THE CAMERA, LIKE CAN WE JUST CUT HIM A BREAK ALREADY. ENOUGH OF THIS. HE’S SO YOUNG AND HE TRIES SO HARD AND I JUST NEED HIM TO FEEL SAFE, HORIKOSHI PLEASE CAN YOU JUST GIVE ME THAT ALREADY WHAT IS THE FREAKING HOLD UP!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY!!!

GIGANTIC FOX LADY PLEASE BE MY HUGGER BY PROXY!! SERIOUSLY GIRL IF YOU JUST HOLD YOUR UMBRELLA OVER HIM OR SOMETHING AND DON’T GO THE EXTRA MILE I’M ABOUT TO LODGE AN OFFICIAL COMPLAINT. THIS IS GETTING RIDICULOUS NOW

!!!!

A KOUTA IS GOOD TOO!!! oh my god if Kouta hugs him I will seriously 100% straight up cry. go on and test me

FOR THE LOVE OF --

is this man expressly forbidden from drawing hugs in his contract or something. DO YOU DO IT JUST TO SPITE ME?? this is tyranny, sir

AND I KNOW, THIS PAGE ACTUALLY CHALLENGED THE VERY PREMISE OF THE SERIES ITSELF, AND HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT HUGS, OR THE LACK THEREOF. “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes.” and just like that, he waves a polite middle finger at all of the Strongest Greatest Chosen One shounen protags of old, in favor of something much less conventional, much more interesting, and much more suited to Deku’s character. because if that one sentence doesn’t just sum up Deku to a T. he gladly relinquishes his Greatest Hero status in favor of acknowledging the hero in everyone. what a class act. that’s my protagonist

I love this kid so fucking much I swear. only just PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. GIVE HIM HIS HUG

[bnhabadass]

Pairing: Shinsou x Reader Genre: Angst with happy ending, NSFW Word Count: 4,049 Synopsis: Shinsou is sick and tired of seeing you go out on all these disappointing Tinder hookups, especially when you always seem to ask him to satisfy you afterwards. But there must be a reason why you keep going on these dates, right? A/N: This is my piece for the bnharem roommates collab. I always forget how much I love writing Shinsou’s character but this definitely brought my spark with him back. Make sure to check out everyone else’s collab pieces on the masterlist!

Another night of tinder swipes. Another night of late night walks through desolate and windy streets. Another night of sleepy dinner and listening to the same old boring stories that every date has to offer. Another night of disappointing sex as he can’t seem to find the hole and his finger nails are sharper than they need to be. Another night of two pump chumps who ask, “does that feel good baby?” and another night of lying through your teeth as you fake moans and count the seconds before you’re allowed to leave.

It’s just like any other Saturday night where your toes are crushed in the tips of your heels and you shiver as you walk back to your apartment, keys clutched between your fingers just in case someone tries to pull something and you need to think quickly. You have your routine ingrained in you, like second nature.

The walk back home is cold and clammy. You can’t shake the feeling of the little hairs on your arms and legs springing up like a cat in shock as the wind pushes right past you. The only thing you could think of to keep yourself from toppling over from exhaustion was the heat that would be coming from your room back home, the fuzzy blanket you’d lie under, and the man awaiting your return to greet you with surprises like no other.

When you did open the front door, heat wafted towards you and your achy muscles began to relax.

“Rough night?” The voice from inside cooed.

“‘Oh baby do you like that?’” you mocked. “‘Does that hurt so good?’”

The person sitting on the sofa with a book covering their face laughed. “Please tell me he did not say that.”

You kicked off your heels and rolled out your ankles. “Shinsou, I swear to god, you have to meet some of these people. This one guy was ridiculous. As I was sucking him off he told me I reminded him of his mother.”

The purple haired young man gagged. “And you still sucked his dick?”

“That’s the best part,” you laughed. “He finished right after he said that.”

Shinsou grimaced. “Why do you keep going on these dates when everyone you end up sleeping with sucks.”

You collapsed on the couch next to him. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because a certain someone always ends up taking care of me after.” Laying your head in his lap, you smiled up at him.

Shinsou gave you a lazy smirk back. “So that’s it, huh? I actually know how to use my tongue so you’re purposefully coming home unsatisfied.”

“I wouldn’t say purposefully,” you said with a mock offended tone to your words. “If there ever is a man out there who did know how to please me then I can guarantee I wouldn’t be coming home every night I have a date.”

He propped his cheek up against the palm of his hand. “But that hasn’t happened yet, has it.”

You loved this, the flirty and dangerous aroma in the air. It was intoxicating and you craved every bit of it.

“So what are we going to do about it?”

You leaned up and kissed him, and then that kiss led to another. Soon you had gotten up and moved into Shinsou’s bedroom. Your tights had been stripped down and your dress was pulled up over your ass.

Getting onto his elbows and knees, Shinsou readied himself to lick his first stripe along your folds and make you melt beneath him.

The week went by, like usual, and your relationship with Shinsou remained the same, just like usual. You’d each come home from work, him tired from training and patrols and you exhausted with paperwork and having to deal with bothersome coworkers taking up all your spare time.

Nothing happens during the week. The two of you laugh and joke around like best friends, like neither of you have seen each other naked, and you’re sure you’re happy this way. That’s what Shinsou keeps telling himself anyway.

You never seem to notice the way his eyes linger on you for a split second too long or the way he glares at your phone over your shoulder as you swipe left or right on dating apps. You’d think that if he was jealous he would try to distance himself, to back away from the trouble you might get in and the disappointment you’d find after each hookup. But no, Shinsou cares too much about you to let you go out on your own without knowing who, where and how you’re setting yourself up for disappointment.

“Hey Shin,” you call from the couch on Thursday night. You’re lying down with your feet propped up against the arm rest. Shinsou has to move them out of the way before plopping down himself.

“What’s up.” His large palm rubbed up and down your legs as they rested on his lap.

“I think I matched with someone who won’t be horrible in bed.” You showed him your phone, and as he scrolled through his profile you could feel the itchy heat of embarrassment rising to your face.

Shinsou’s heart seemed to stop. His eyes widened when he read the words “pornstar” and “Onlyfans'' in the dude’s bio. Handing your phone back to you, he kept his eyes trained on the floor. “That’s great. He seems like he knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah.” You took the phone back and resumed looking through his photos. “He messaged me earlier and we have a lot in common too.”

Shinsou nodded. Why did he feel so weird? He knew that not every guy you matched with would be a disappointment. He had been telling that to himself for months now, but watching the nervous smile that crept up your face as you received a new message from this guy made Shinsou want to scream. “I’m gonna go for a run,” he said, lifting up your legs to stand up from the couch.

“Really? It’s dark out. Are you sure you want to go running?” You didn’t look up from your phone.

“Yeah I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, stay safe. Oh! Did you still want to watch a movie tonight?”

Shinsou froze. “Um, maybe not tonight. I’m not sure. I’ll see if I’ve cooled down a bit after my run.”

You looked up from the screen, slightly deterred. “Oh, okay. Have a good run.” You weren’t exactly sure what he meant by that. He hadn’t seemed to be bothered by anything earlier, so why was he acting weird now? You were sure you hadn’t said anything to make him upset and when he told you about his day, he didn’t seem bothered by anything that happened at work.

Rolling over on your side, you continued texting this new guy, a new sense of nervousness clouding your vision.

It’s Saturday night and you’re putting on your makeup. Your hands which have never been shaky before have fucked applying your eyeliner three times now. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. You’ve met up with guys every weekend for months now. Could it be that this guy is different because he knows what he’s doing? Yeah, that must be it. You’re worried that you won’t be good enough for him, right?

Still, that didn’t seem like that was it. You were so excited talking to him at first. He made you laugh and you wanted to meet up with him so bad, to see his charm in person. But then you showed his profile to Shinsou and things started to feel different, like somehow they were falling apart.

You haven’t spoken to your roommate much in the last couple days. His usual pokes and prods at the men you tend to meet up with were replaced with silence. You haven’t joked around like usual or spent time together unwinding after work, and you were worried. It hadn’t been this distant between you since one of your female friends told you about a guy she knew who was looking for a roommate and the two of you met for the first time.

Since then, you haven't gotten anything but closer. You began your weekly rituals of getting takeout and watching movies and getting drunk after particularly rough days at work. Living with Shinsou was the happiest you have been in a long time. So why did that change?

Stepping out of your bedroom, makeup incomplete and dress unbuttoned, you peered into the living room where Shinsou was working.

He sat shirtless on the couch, legs propped up on the automen with his laptop balanced on his legs. His wild purple hair, which had gotten longer since the two of you met, was loosely tied back with a hair tie. His gray sweatpants were untied and you were sure that if he were to stand up they would ride low on his hips.

As you stared at his profile, you couldn’t help but admire how his chiseled face, adorning a pair of reading glasses, looked so serene as he stared at the work ahead of him. He looked calm, calmer than you’ve seen him in a while, and that made his face more youthful. Shinsou stretched out his arms and you could hear his corded back crack before he went back to typing away.

You ran back into your room and slammed the door. Your face was hot and flushed. Beads of sweat permeated on your temples. How could such a simple act of stretching make you feel so hot and bothered and worked up and oh no. How is it that you were so blind? You were in love with your roommate.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

You paced back and forth, rubbing all of the makeup off of your eyes in the process. You stared at your blackened fingers and rubbed them on your dress, not caring that it would dirty. Thinking back to all the moments you cuddled as “friends” and all the times you would lay together after a disappointing date, you were able to pinpoint each exact moment where your feelings grew.

You sat on your bed and watched as your hands shook. You couldn’t go on this date now. You don’t care about the guy, no matter how good at sex he might claim to be. The entire time, you’d just be wishing you were on a date with Shinsou. Granted, every date you’ve been on, a little part of you has wished it was with Shinsou. Every week you couldn’t wait until it was over so you could be enveloped yet again in his flirty aroma that was so, so addictive.

So that was it, you wouldn’t go on the date and things would go back to normal between the two of you. But would they really? What would you say if he asked why you cancelled? All you wanted were things to go back to the way they were. You wanted to bask in the flirty air and feel Shinsou hold you close and caress every curve of your body with so much love and tenderness.

You stood up and looked at your blotchy face in the mirror. Surrounding your eyes was a mix of black and shimmery gold swarming together. You wiped them off along with the rest of your makeup. You won’t be going out tonight so there’s no point of dolling up.

What am I going to do?

You slid off your dress and slipped into a pair of pajama bottoms and threw on a tank top. The least you could be is comfortable in such a stressful situation.

I can’t act the way I used to, knowing how I feel now.

You may have been an idiot for this, but you decided to face your situation head on. Without doing so, who knows how you wouldn’t go crazy living under the same roof as the man you’re in love with.

You stepped into the living room. Shinsou was still typing away and looking over reports, so you cleared your throat to get his attention.

“Hey, you about to go out?” When you didn’t respond, he looked up and his face fell. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you dressed?”

You couldn’t look him in the eye. As soon as you heard him speak and the amount of concern in his voice, you just wanted to cry. The sting of acidic tears and mucus welling in the back of your throat made you want to throw up.

“Did something happen?” He took off his reading glasses and scooched over, letting you take a seat beside him.

But you didn’t move, just kept staring at your cold feet against the hardwood floor.

“(Y/n), talk to me.”

You looked up at him and tears began rolling down your face. You felt so pathetic, that you would be crying over love of all things. Love was supposed to be magical, right? Not embarrassing and tear-ridden. “Can you,” you started, but you needed to take a step back when you heard your achy throat cracking as you spoke. “Can you give me a reason not to go?”

Shinsou adjusted himself. He was clearly trying to make out what you were saying. “What? If you don’t want to go then don’t. No one’s forcing you to go on this date.”

You couldn’t help crumble at what he said. If only he knew what you really looked forward to after each date and what you were really thinking about when you were out with these other guys.

Shinsou stood up as you crumbled to the ground and squatted down next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You sunk into his chest and sobbed against him. It felt so unfair that with his arms around you, you felt whole, like you were two pieces of a puzzle.

“Why do you need a reason not to go on this date? Is he pressuring you or something?”

You shook your head against his chest. “I don’t want to go on a date with him.” On one hand, you thought your subtle hints would get through Shinsou’s thick skull, but it seemed as though they were a paper plane trying to penetrate a brick wall.

“So find some other guy.”

Why was he being so dismissive? You didn’t want just some other guy, you wanted Shinsou.

“Look, you’ve found plenty of other dates in the past, just because you don’t want to go out with one guy doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.” He kept rubbing circles in your back. “Why don’t you call up a past hookup or something?”

You pushed away from him. “How could you say that,” you whispered. “I don’t want to go on a date with one of them.” Your voice began to raise. You had never raised your voice at Shinsou before. “I want to go out with you, you idiot.”

There was a moment where all you could hear were the little noises throughout the apartment like the ticking of the clock in the kitchen or a fly buzzing close by. Then, you slapped a hand over your mouth. You didn’t mean to say that outloud. You didn’t mean to raise your voice or push away from him. But you did blurt it out, and Shinsou looked at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

The hair on his arms and the back of his neck raised up like static. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he should look at you with shock or look away in embarrassment. He was completely and utterly confused.

“Shit,” you whined from behind your hand. “Forget it.” You rubbed the tears under your eyes away and went to stand up. “I’m gonna go to bed.”

“Wait.” Shinsou grabbed your hand before you could fully stand up. You had never realized how small your hands were compared to his until now. “You can’t just say that and then walk away.”

He was right. You sat back down on the ground, his hand still grabbing onto yours, playing with your fingers. “Okay,” you mouthed, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get any sound out if you tried.

“Why do you go on all of these dates?”

You thought about it for a moment. You were never really sure why you bothered hooking up with so many people, but sitting on the ground with him, you had a pretty good idea. “Because we’re roommates.”

“So?”

You kept your eyes on your fingers intertwined with Shinsous. “Because realizing you’re in love with your roommate is shitty, so the least I could do is hope that after an unsatisfying night of sex, you’d be willing to provide.”

He stopped playing with your fingers and instead, squeezed your hand. “And I hated seeing you with these different men so much that any chance you gave me I ate up.”

You blinked once, twice in confusion before meeting Shinsou’s eyes. “You...”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

The heavy weight of tears on your chest finally lifted. You could finally breathe freely. There was silence among you before the two of you burst out laughing. You rested your head on his shoulder as your chests heaved up and down. When you took your head away to look him in the eyes, he leaned in and kissed you. You didn’t hesitate to kiss back and wrap your arms around his neck.

Shinsou dragged your body closer to him, so you were straddling his lap, and weaved his arms around your figure. He was a good kisser, which you already knew, but you had never taken the time to feel his passion until now. Shinsou made sure to tease you with a darting tongue and hands which traveled down your figure and stopped at the base of your hips.

You weaved your hands through his soft hair and pulled his hair tie out. His fluffy purple locks were so fun and tempting to tug on. Kissing him with this amount of love and emotion enthralled you, and you felt a little disappointed when he pulled away.

“Would you like to move this to my bedroom?”

And you bit your bottom lip before nodding, a smile creeping its way up along your face. You stood up and followed him into his bedroom eagerly.

After Shinsou closed the door behind you, he turned around and snaked his hands up your back. You giggled at the contact and let him pull the shirt over your head. You weren’t wearing a bra, so Shinsou immediately leaned over to take one of your nipples in his mouth. He sucked it until it puckered and let it go with a loud pop.

“You know,” he said, backing you against his bed. “I’ve never been able to say until now how truly beautiful you are.”

“Shinsou,” you sighed, taking a hold of his purple locks. You collapsed onto the bed and let him kiss his way down your front side. His kisses were rough but full of love, and you know they would leave bruises behind.

He slid your pajama bottoms and underwear down your thighs until they pooled on the floor at your ankles. “Everything you do is gorgeous, even the way you’re sprawled out under me, under my command just waiting for me to touch you.”

You could feel your pussy clench at his words and your thighs shook in waiting.

He kissed the top of your pussy and trailed kisses around your thighs. You watched as he hiked your legs over his well muscled shoulders while keeping eye contact. His long tongue darted out and he licked one long stripe between your folds and suckled on your little sweet bud.

You arched your back and let out a choked moan. Out of all the nights you’ve slept together, this was the first time you really saw him for all the love he gave you.

Shinsou kept his face right in front of your dripping hole just for a moment and let his hot breath tickle your needy clit. He chuckled at your squirming form and teased you even further with kitten licks and hands that reached up to squeeze your breasts as he dove in to lap up your juices.

Your hands grasped at his, keeping them firmly clenched onto your chest as he delved in deeper and deeper into your wonderful taste. You could feel your orgasm quickly building up. Your toes curled and knees jerked up, hips bucking your clit further up into Shinsou’s mouth. You let out a loud moan and sigh of relief and surprise when you could feel your juices spraying onto Shinsou’s face and watched as they dripped down his chin.

You had never squirted before. You could feel a calm wash over you as you settled down. Shinsou wiped his hand down his chin. “That was fucking sexy.”

He kissed your lower lips one last time before standing up and allowing you to scooch further up on the bed. You were exhausted but it didn’t matter. Watching Shinsou strip down and seeing his cock spring to life only made you want more of him.

He crawled over you and kissed your lips. He tasted like a mix of your juices and honey, probably from that tea you saw him drinking not too long ago. Whatever it was, it was addictive. “Are you ready?” he asked as he positioned the head of his cock in line with your opening.

You nodded, heaving up and down and running your hand along the side of his face. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

Shinsou was thicker than most of the people you had slept with, and you always felt the stretch of him penetrating you every time he pushed himself in.

Knowing that it probably hurt a little, the stretch of it all, he paused every so often and kissed your face, allowing you to warm up before he bottomed out inside of you. You were just so tight and welcoming, it took all his strength not to pound into you immediately, to take it nice and slow as he rubbed against your clit with his thumb.

Your face was hot. It was odd to you that it had never felt this way before, that until now you had never been this nervous to feel his cock pulsing inside of you and to feel his mouth nip at your clit and nipples. You had closed your eyes and focused on your breathing.

Shinsou reached over to tickle the palm of your hand. As you looked up at him, he cupped your face and smiled down at you before he started to thrust his hips.

You squirmed and writhed around as he bucked deeper in and out of the hole that seemed to suck him in further and further.

He felt it was so unfair because he never seemed to last as long as he wanted to when he was with you. The way your aching pussy clenched around him so tight was euphoric. He wanted to let his dick bask in your warm, gushing cavern forever.

“You’re beautiful,” you heard him whisper as he sped up, his orgasm fast approaching. “You’re perfect.”

And again, you squirmed around as that cord built up inside of you and snapped, leaving you gushing around Shinsou’s cock and heaving up and down underneath him.

Shinsou didn’t last much longer. He came almost immediately after you did, feeling your walls clench around him oh so tight. He rolled over next to you and laid his head in the crook of your neck. His hair tickled your nose as you nuzzled into him.

“We should clean up.”

“After snuggles,” he yawned.

You laughed. He’d never been this clingy until now. He had never praised you so much until now. “What does this mean?”

“Hm?”

“For us?”

Shinsou rolled over to look at you. “It means you’re gonna sleep in this bed with me tonight, and tomorrow morning I’m waking up early to make my girlfriend a pancake breakfast. Okay, kitten?”

You had to keep yourself from squealing at the nickname. Instead, you closed your eyes with a goofy smile on your face. “Okay.”

[nat-20s]

what’s poppin everyone please have this fun lil writing warmup/short story inspired by me thinking “Dancing in the Moonlight” was definitely 100% about werewolves

~*~

“So, this your first transformation?”

The counselor? Leader? Tour guide? Asked this with a perfectly jovial tone, as if the typical social mores surrounding, ugh, lycanthropy, didn’t apply to her. They didn’t know what exact title to call her, and her name tag just said “Luna”, which, reflecting on it, either was a joke on her part or a reflection of her parents’ sense of humor.

Picking at the scabs from last month, they cringed and replied, “No. Uh. Second.”

Luna lets out a low whistle. “Oof. That sucks. Guessing you got bitten rather than inherited the ol’ wolfman gene?”

“That’s...kind of personal?”

Unlocking the front door of the log cabin that served as King Harvest’s Headquarters, Luna shrugs and says, “Shit, sorry. Forgot the whole weird stigma around your source of the once monthly nightmare, as if it fuckin matters. Also, I know, I know, ass out of you and me. Hey, you got any dietary restrictions? Gluten, peanut allergies, the like?”

Voice flat, they tell her, “I’m vegetarian,” and waits for the obvious response.

As they wander through the cabin towards the kitchen, Luna flipping on the light switches, generic club music starts to filter in. Instead of the obvious response, Luna asks, “You like veggie burgers? Or maybe pasta? I’d offer salad, but that’s really not gonna cut it for tonight.”

“I ate before I came.”

With a snort, she tells them, “Oh yeah? Did you have about 4000 calories?”

“No? Why would I have?”

Sweeping out her arm, she gestures at the food laying out on the counter and tells them, “Then eat up! 4000 is really a minimum for the night if you don’t want to feel like someone physically beat out all of your energy in the morning. 6000 is more the target area, but we got, hmm, about 15 minutes before things get uncomfortable, and half an hour max before things get dire.”

They glance down to the food, and, admittedly, the broccoli alfredo does look pretty appealing. Still, they have to ask, “Is this a cult?”

Luna lets out a bark of a laugh that has nothing to do with her (maybe) being a werewolf. “Okay, first of all, what kind of cult is like ‘fuck yeah, we’re a cult’? Secondly, despite the first thing, I can say that we’re not a cult. I know how “King Harvest: Center for Movement Therapy” sounds, both clinical and vague enough to be suspicious as hell, but I didn’t come up with the title, blame my long deceased dad for that one. Plus, ‘King Harvest: Bitchin’ Wolf Dance House’ probably wouldn’t look good on the grant applications.”

“Grants?”

“Oh yeah. This bad boy’s been publicly funded since its opening in 1972. Hence no membership fees.”

“Is that why animal control is giving out your business card? Are they one of your sponsors?”

“Nah, that’s just Jack. Me ‘n’ him go way back, hell, to his park ranger days.  I mean, yeah, I think he’ll campaign for us, but mostly I think he just hates capturing a wolf in the night only to have a naked, trembling human in the morning, and he knows that our program significantly reduces the odds of that happening, at least in this neck of the woods.”

They let out a hum, then glance back down to the food. As appealing as it down look, they’re still about..30% convinced this is an elaborate organ harvesting operation. Or sketchy sex thing.

Apparently sensing their hesitation, Luna says, “You got a favorite chip?”

“Salt and vinegar.”

Grabbing a sealed family sized bag from the overhead cabinets, Luna tosses it to them. “If you come back next full moon, either eat enough in advance or have a real meal here. That being said, excuse the turn of phrase, you should wolf that down. It’s sure as hell better than nothing.”

They catch it, and the bag opens with a puff of air that speaks to a reassuring lack of tampering. As they toss a chip into their mouth, Luna grabs a water bottle from the fridge and places it down next to them. “So? Any questions for me? We’ve still got about ten minutes before we have to go out there.”

Rolling their eyes, they tell her, “No. None at all.”

“Great! Soon as you’re done eating we’ll get you started.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“Yeah, no shit, smart-ass. Seriously, what are your, we haven’t got much time.”

“I don’t know? The whole..thing? I mean, how is it supposed to..work? Like? At all?”

“You ever see Amok Time?”

“Is that relevant?”

“It’s a yes or no question babe.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then the explanation is going to be a lot more technical and take a lot longer, ultimately to likely make less sense.”

“...I’ve seen it.”

“Great! So, Pon Farr is basically this chemical blood imbalance that results in fuck or die disorder, yeah? But then Spock neither fucks nor dies, and eventually the vulcans get their shit together and find out that an intense fight can serve the same function, and the blood fever chills out. Lycanthropy operates on a similar enough basis for comparison. You’re compelled to act out on energetically heavy base instincts, returning to the ways of the wolf or whatever. Traditionally, that’s done through running and hunting, which has, historically, been a crapshoot at best. Theoretically, sex can also get the job done, but I’m sure you can imagine how that gets extremely dicey extremely quickly. Either restraints or isolation has been implemented for a while, but, c’mon, they’re bandaid solutions, and they’re far from foolproof. Luckily for us all, my grandmother decided to connect back with her ancestors, and there was a handful of stories having huge festivals to deal with ‘moon violence’. She tried it out, and, yeah, dancing works.”

“That sounds…”

They don’t know how that sounds. Made up, mostly.

“Like a bunch of hippie bullshit? Yeah, it kind of is, Grandma Josephine was a huge hippie, but it’s hippie bullshit that works. In fact, let’s go see the others, it almost always makes things clearer.”

Figuring that whatever they’re about to see can’t be worse than their transformation last month. They head through the sliding glass door out the back, the thump of the music suddenly loud enough to be felt in their chest. The sight that awaits them makes them drop their chips and let out a gasp. Barely able to speak, they exhale out, “None of them...they’re not wolves. How..how??”

Indeed, the roughly forty people jumping to the pulse of whatever they’re listening to (some to the in house DJ, some, apparently, to what’s playing over the large headphones they have adorned), resemble the image of a wolfman much more accurately. They bare claws, fangs, elongated snouts, upright ears, and  serious amounts of hair, but they’re on two legs, and moving like humans. Some of them are even singing along to the lyrics, which really shouldn’t be possible.

Luna grins, making it obvious that she’s used to this level of shell shocks. “Ultimately, you do have to give into some damn rigorous instincts. But dancing is a human instinct, not a canine one, so you end up, well, humanoid. Pretty nifty, huh?”

“And they all..they all keep their minds? I didn’t...they don’t blackout?”

“Not since we banned alcohol in the 90s! Here, watch this.”

Luna nods her head at the DJ, and the DJ, obligingly, turns down the music for a moment. The members of the crowd not listening to their own music pause, then look towards the door. She cries out, “Hey gang! HOW WE ALL DOIN’ TONIGHT?”, and gets a mix between a howl and “WOO!” cried back. The DJ then turns the music back up, and the general movement of the crowd resumes.

They should be more skeptical. They want to be more skeptical, they were just minutes before, but it’s hard to disagree with something right in front of you. “This will work for me? I just..have to dance?”

“Well, it’s not guaranteed. Few things are. But we have yet to have someone turn violent on us. If you start to fell yourself slipping from consciousness, though, I do ask that you start heading further into the woods, as to not hurt other guest. If you find yourself just getting tired, there’s beds inside, and a fair amount of pillows around the edge of the quote unquote dance floor, if you end up in more of a nesting mood. Also, I recommend taking off your shoes before you start.”

“What? Why?”

Luna gives a pointed glance at the dancers’ feet, which, ah. They’re about twice as large as normal and at least twice as sharp. The converse on their feet would be no match. “Ah.”

“Ready?”

They shove off their shoes and place the remainder of their chips aside. “As I’ll ever be.”

Good thing, too, as they’re starting to feel an uncomfortable pressure in their chest that was the prelude to disaster last month.

Luna strides to the center of the dance floor, which is really a plush lawn surrounded by forest. The crowd naturally moves around her, and she yells out, “Aiyana! Play my song!”

Aiyana gives a nod, and the opening notes of “Dancing in the Moonlight” start to sound out. “Seriously?”

Luna shrugs, grinning like a fool, and says, “It’s a classic!”

“It’s cliché at best.”

Luna shrugs, and then begins dancing. She’s hardly elegant, but she is dazzlingly joyful in her uncoordinated movements. As the song reaches the first chorus, she gives a twirl, and in the split second it takes, she’s transformed. They blink in shock, not knowing you could transform that seamlessly, that quickly, that painlessly. Luna in half wolf form is just as expressive as the human Luna, and she gives a nod over her shoulder as if to say Come on.

Feeling somewhat foolish, they start to bop their head to the tune. Luna lets out a huff and grabs their hands, spinning them around and forcing them to get moving. At first, it’s them indulging Luna, but as they let themselves get lost in rhythm, they feel a stretching sensation in their face and limbs. It’s not unpleasant, more like when you wake up and work out the tension in your spine. They open their eyes and look down at their hands, now covered in fur in and made for slashing. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt, and they’re still themselves, and they had no idea that full moons could be like this, maybe for the rest of their lives.

They turn their head to the night sky, and their body can’t help but continue to dance. Despite all their fear, all their dread, “movement therapy” worked, and they can admit, at least to themselves, that they feel warm and bright.

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal  (Prologue)

Series Summary: You’re out of a relationship of 10 years and you’re just in desperate need to get laid, no strings attached, no romance, no complications. You dear friend Natasha feels like she’s going to regret this later, but she might have the perfect guy to fulfill your needs.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 3.1k

Warnings (for the entire series): +18 only, smut, casual sex, Bucky is a whore, boytoy!Bucky and proud, acquaintances to fuck buddies to maybe lovers, fluff, eventual angst, mention to past relationship, break-up.

A/N: I was going to write something for Looking for a Heartbeat universe, but this idea came up and I was so excited. This is me trying my hand at romantic comedy. It’ll be very smutty but there’ll be angst eventually because it’s me. This version of Bucky is different from everything I’ve written before, but I think this is one of the beauties of this character. He’s so nuanced and layered, there’s always a new version of him to be explored. I hope you guys like it and stick with me. I’m planning 10 chapters, but the number may change.  The link to the my masterlist is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated. @lesqui​ you’re a Rockstar.

When Natasha bursts into his apartment - like she’s done many many times before- holding up a big cup of coffee, the first thing that hits her is the smell lingering in the air, making her whole face scrunch up. The whole apartment stinks of  a fucking orgy and she doesn’t even get to act surprised or outraged. This is what it’s been like. Ever since Bucky started to get better, changing from the brooding shadow that had first arrived to regaining his self-confidence, he’s been spending it and his whole package of super soldier stamina like that. A new night a new girl. Or two… she realizes when she spots the pair of different underwear over his couch as she makes her way to his bedroom.  Three? She shoots an eyebrow high at the sight of a third one hanging around the doorknob.

She would die before touching the damn thing and, because she’s also always up for a little show, she decides to use one of her signature moves to make herself into his bedroom. A powerful  kick to the door is enough to have the effect she wanted : three different tones of high-pitched screams and a low groan fills the room.  

Natasha doesn’t need to say anything. Just her steady, impassive demeanor while still in her Black Widow uniform from the last mission is enough to make the trio of naked bodies move. They  shoot themselves out of the bed and scramble to pick up pieces of clothes from the floor.

“Ugh, sorry, sweethearts.” Bucky’s voice is groggy with sleep and muffled by the pillow, “Thanks for last night, though, it was amazing.” He raises his thumb up but remains lying on his stomach, his very naked behind exposed,  completely unphased by Natasha’s presence.

The girls rush past her without even daring to  glance at the Avenger. Well, except for the owner of the underwear on the doorknob, who gives her much more than a glance in the shape of a shameless once over and a lustful wink before grabbing the piece of lacey and fleeing, putting it on along with her dress on her way.

With an exaggerated yawn, Bucky catches Natasha’s attention again and she steps into his room as he rolls over and sits on the mattress. At least he has the decency to pull a sheet to cover his front before he stretches his arm to the air letting out a second yawn, “What is it this time?” This is  definitely not the first time a scenario like that has taken place, to Natasha’s exasperation.

“Crowded around here, huh?” Walking over to him with a judging brow up, she hands him the coffee, which he promptly accepts, “Do you even know their names?”

“Sofia, Olivia, and Amanda,” he answers simply before taking a sip from the coffee,  “The one checking you out was Amanda, she’s nice, I think you’d like her, and you’ve seen them before here, just not the three of them together.” He smirks, raising a feigned innocent gaze from his cup to her.

Natasha chooses to ignore the answer in favor of letting a huff out, “We - and by we I mean Fury - missed you at the debriefing.” She glances around, trying to find a place she could sit without accidently making contact with any kind of… fluids. Spotting the armchair nearby, she shoots a questioning look at Bucky.

He presses his lips in a guilty fine line and shrugs, “I think you’re safe standing up.”

“You’re gross, you know that right?” She grimaces, crossing her arms in front of her. “How the hell did this happen, anyway? We got here around one  am from the mission.”

He shakes his head dismissively, “You know I have my ways and I needed to shake the stress off. Too much energy to spend.” 

“I can see that,” She laughs, “I mean…Three?

“You were there. It was a hard mission.” The corner of Bucky’s eyes crinkle as he grins back at her.

“That it was,” she agrees, letting some air out in a puff, “And that’s why I’m here now. You weren’t picking your goddamn phone and Fury wants to debrief with you before he signs the reports.”

“Ugh,” Bucky rolls his eyes, blowing some steam out of his cup of coffee, “that guy... what a huge pain in the ass, right?”

Natasha catches the playful tone and shakes her head, holding back the smile, “You won’t make me bad talk him, you know that.”

She can’t keep the smile suppressed any longer when he lets his head fall back and laughs. Carefree and contagious. It took him a while to get there, but now? Laughters, giggles, and jokes are a part of who Bucky Barnes is. For that, she’s thankful.  

“Alright, just give me a minute,” he concedes, bringing his coffee back to his lips.

Watching him, her face turns a bit more serious. “How long will you keep this up, huh?” she asks, bringing her hands to her hips.  

With the back of his hand, he wipes a bit of coffee that slips from the corner of his mouth “What?” His forehead crinkles as his attention is focused on cleaning himself.

“This lifestyle of yours…” Natasha waves a hand around the room and over himself, “Don’t you ever want to… I don’t know… settle down for one woman or something like that?”

The confused expression that shifts Bucky’s face as he looks back at her is almost comical. “Why in the world would I do that?” He puts the cup of coffee on the nightstand, before standing up, wrapping the sheet around his waist. “This is so much fun, no strings attached… just good old exchange of fluids, enjoying one another’s bodies… and the next morning we’re off with our lives.” Ignoring the disapproval look on Natasha, he grins down at her, before passing by her to walk towards his closet.

“I know this might be a good deal for you, but what about the women you bring down here, is this fair with them?” Natasha insists.

“Ok, now listen,” Bucky turns back to her, pulling an underwear from the drawer, “All the girls I hook up with want the exact same thing I want, “ He leans down to put on the underwear under the sheet covering his lower half, before letting the white fabric pull down on the floor. “They’re here for the sex just as much as I am.” He turns back to the closet, fumbling with his clothes.

“Aren’t you going to take a shower?”

“Fury needs me asap.” He deadpans, before continuing while putting on his jeans, “Not once I took advantage of anyone, I guarantee you that. I´m not fooling them, they’re not fooling me. It’s a fair deal. Perfect to be honest, pleasant, I mean very pleasant to both sides…” He smirks before raising his gaze filled with mischief from where he’s  buckling his belt to her, “You damn well know how good it- I can be…”

Her eyes roll at his smirk and she crosses her arms in front of her again. “That ship has sailed, Barnes.” It was just one time months ago and she knows she will never hear the end of it.

“Just saying…” Bucky shrugs, tying his hair back into a low bun, keeping the half smile on his lips, “Whenever you need to shake the stress off again, you can always count on me.” He winks.

“Yeah, right, go take a fucking shower and then we can talk.” Natasha grabs a pillow from his bed and throws at him. “Ok, I get it, I’m not an expert here and probably not the right person to be telling you this, but don’t you feel like you’re missing things? Or maybe that you’re hiding from something?” she suggests, walking past his bed to come closer to him.

“Nat, I swear… I’m not hiding from anything, there’s no hidden feelings or fears or anything like that… It’s just sex.” He states, sounding a bit more thoughtful with his friend’s worries , putting on a white t-shirt as she’s now just a few steps away from him. “People usually make a big deal about it, but that’s it. Sex is just sex. It’s fun and a fucking amazing experience to share with someone. And that’s it. Me and the women I spend time with are very sure about that. No worry.”  As he finishes dressing himself up, he places both hands on Natasha’s shoulders.

She aims a deadly glare at where he touches her, “I honestly can’t decide if you’re a pig or a genius, but right now take your  unwashed hands off of me.”

Bucky laughs, squeezing and shaking her shoulders halfheartedly, “I took a shower before I went to sleep, calm your damn titties.” He removes his hands anyway before placing a kiss on top of her head, gaining a hiss in exchange, “And a genius, of course.”

“All right,” Natasha says after glancing at her watch, “Nine. I still need a shower myself and at least a nap before Y/N drops by for lunch. You go see Fury now.” She commands, tapping his shoulder and already moving past him to the door.

“Oh, Y/n? From the tech department?” The peak of interest on his voice behind her doesn’t go unnoticed by Natasha, “It’s been a while since I last saw her, how’s she? Still with that boyfriend of hers? What’s his name again?”

“Eddie. And no, they’ve broken up actually,” she answers, already opening the door to leave his apartment, “But don’t even think about it,” She warns, already sensing the smirk on his lips without even looking back at him, “She would never take one of your deals.” Natasha shuts the door before he could say anything else.

~~~

“Fuckbucket! Bumhole, son of motherfucker arseclowns! Goddamit nutsack!” The line of curses being spat out of your mouth is followed by you grabbing the bottle of tabasco and dropping almost half of its content over the plate of linguine in front of you.

Natasha says nothing, chewing her own pasta slowly as she stares you down, wondering how that combination of words could be the one to come up to your head when you wanted to swear. The small bistro is crowded and a few heads turn in your direction following your little – and kinda cute, if she’s going to be honest- outburst.

“Sorry…” Glancing around you seem to notice the brief but unwanted attention as your voice shrinks and your shoulders drop. “I asked for it fucking spicy, though,” you add in a mumble, only stressing the new curse, bringing a fork of linguine inside your mouth. You sigh, seeming finally pleased with the level of spice in it.

“Ok…” Nat drags the word as her eyes drop at the glass of wine in front of you. The second one already, “Bad day, I assume?”

A guttural and frustrated groan slips out of you as you swallow your food and take a long sip from the wine, “I’m just… ugh, everything sucks these days.” You place back the glass on the table a little more forcefully than it should be expected, your eyes following the move of your hand.

“Something at work?” Nat asks, “Do I need to talk to Tony?” She tilts her head, a hint of exasperation on her words.

“No, no. Of course not.” You wave a dismissive hand, “That lunatic is the best boss I could ever have asked for.” A quick but honest smile forms in your lips. 

“Alright…” Natasha accepts, “Eddie, then?” She tries again.

“No… sort of. I don’t know.” You sigh, now playing with the food in your plate as your jaw tightens.

“Talk…” Natasha orders, putting down her fork beside her plate and brushing her hands together, swallowing the food in her mouth. “Have you been seeing him at work? It’s been a while since I last saw him in the Tower.” She leans her head on her joined hands as she rests her elbows over the table, giving you her full attention.

“He’s been promoted to a leadership position at SHIELD’s tech department, that’s why you haven’t seen him.” You respond, still playing with your food, “I haven’t seen him either, not ever since we broke up, but I guess splitting up is doing wonders for him.” You bite your cheek.

“How long has it been already, three months?”

“Yeah.” You nod.

“You miss him.” Natasha affirms rather than asks, a sweet comprehensive tone on her words as she crosses her forearms over the table, leaning forward. You two haven’t had the time to properly talk about your breakup, given Nat’s mission schedules and your own job, which can be a pain in the ass when it comes to work-hours.

“Of course, I do,” you say, looking up to the ceiling and shaking your head before moving your gaze to her again, “It’s like… I never saw it coming. Almost ten years of relationship… when he said he needed to talk I thought he was going to propose.” You scoff, covering your face with both hands in pure disbelief in yourself, “But instead he said he wanted a new path for his life. What the hell does that mean?” You raise your voice along with your arms to each side of you.  

“I hate to say this, dear.” Natasha grabs her glass of water and takes a sip before resuming, “But you know I’m not one to sugarcoat the truth and it probably means he’s fucking someone else…sorry.” She shrugs, knowing she could be sounding a little harsh, but she’s aware sometimes harshness is the right medicine.  

“Well, at least someone is getting fucked,” you mutter under your breath, while rolling the pasta in your fork to shove it your mouth.

The slipped comment sets off Natasha curiosity instantly and she just eyes you for a second before urging, “Well, elaborate.”

“Ugh… Jesus.” You grunt before taking in a deep breath, “You know, I do miss him in my life, but God… what has been killing me right now is,” you lean forward, getting closer to Nat as she mimics you, “I’m so fucking horny.”  You whisper as Natasha’s eyes grow round at your admission. You had never said anything like that to her before, you two are close friends but you’re always so reserved about your private life, “It’s been almost a year.”

“A year?” She whispers loudly, but lowers her voice as you quickly shush her, mortified someone would hear you two, “But…”

“Yeah, I know the break up was three months ago, but it doesn’t mean I was getting any before that,” you admit, frustration seeping into your voice.  

“Oh, honey…” Natasha tilts her head, trying to convey empathy towards you rather than judgement.

“I know, right?” You smile sadly, leaning backwards in your chair, “How was I even surprised when things went south? I don’t even know what happened, to be honest. We just… stopped.” You shrug a shoulder, grabbing your fork to play with it absentmindedly, staring down at it, “And I was ok with it. At least I think I was,” You look back at Nat, who’s just listening to you attentively, “I guess I thought at least I had everything else. I don’t know...” You shake your head in a sign of disapproval of yourself, “But after we broke up?” Once again you lean over to whisper, “That’s all I think about. Almost everyone I see ends up in a fantasy of mine. Things I never even dreamed about wanting… I eat a fucking strawberry and suddenly I’m turned on.”  Your desperation is visible in your big, round eyes and audible in your rapid speech.

“Why don’t you go out, meet someone, then?” Natasha tries to hold back her laugh out of respect for you.  

“Ugh,” you wave her off, glancing to the side with a grimace, “Too much work. Besides, I don’t think I’m ready for anything else.” You shake your head, “I just want to fuck.” You add in a grunt, shaking your legs in a very bratty way.

“Oh, wow,” Nat leans back to her seat, “I never saw this coming.”

“Can I tell you something?” You say, after studying Nat. When she nods and leans closer to you again, you continue, keeping your voice low, “Eddie was the only one I ever been with.”

Natasha chokes on nothing and quickly grabs her cup of water, gulping in down to the last drop, “How the hell did this happen?” she yelps.

“Well, back in highschool I wasn’t really ready, and then in college I met Eddie.” You shrug, curling your lips down, “We’ve been together ever since. But after he broke up with me, that was one of the first things on my mind, the thought repeating itself like a parrot in my head. That I had never been with another man.”

“Hell, sis,” Nat exhales, “I’m starting to understand your situation now.”

“Ugh, Nat, seriously, I just need someone to fuck me senseless.” You tighten your teeth and make a grabbing gesture with your hands, “Just some primal, animalistic sex, I need someone, anyone who can take me properly. No strings attached…Nothing else, I’m tired of everything else.” You shut your eyes, shaking your head, before looking around you. Satisfied no one is staring or listening, you once again bends closer to Nat across the table, “Even thought about hiring a goddamn escort, but I just bought the condo with Eddie, and, until we figure this out, I’m broke as fuck.”  

Nat’s jaw drops. She’s speechless, utterly speechless. As you look back at her, a bit of shame but also expectancy gleaming in your eyes, a thought pops into Natasha’s mind. The universe must be playing with her, and that’s what she finally says to you. “Holy shit, the universe must be putting on a fucking joke on me.”

“Why?” You squint at her, “What do you mean?”

Natasha doesn’t answer right away. She ponders the thought for a moment. It might not be a bad idea, actually. Shaking some steam off, having a different and lighter experience with someone else, a little bit of fun… that might be exactly what you’re needing, and who could be more perfect for that? At least he’s someone Natasha trusts. She sure hopes so. “Are you serious about all of that? You’re really just looking for sex and nothing else?” Natasha checks.  

“Dead serious.” It’s your straight up answer.  

“Ok,” She decides, nodding once, “I may regret this sooner than I think but I might have the perfect guy for you.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Hot take: Bakugou's character wouldn't survive if not for the one he kept abusing all his life. 90% of his character revolves around his victim and yet the fandom paints him as this super developed, fleshed out character when in reality he'd never be anything bigger than a side character if not for Deku.

Also the concequences he supposedly received are just him being teased or not getting the win he wanted, no being kidnapped doesn't count, he literally got away with his shit while even been treated like a victim and the privilege to know something about Deku that isn't any of his business. And now because he sacrificed himself that one time the fandom acts like Izuku owes his ass anything. It's disgusting.

I have given up on him actually being half the decent character ppl make him out to be and the fandom reaction to him makes me hate him even more.

He's not complex, he's just a pretty boy, asshole archetype who gets nicer and has some more cooperative and ppl love to eat that shit up while making up stuff for him. He changes but he's doesn't change for what matters and definitely pales in comparison to other characters who are better written than him.

(holy shit, did they remove the character limit on asks?? omg a GODSEND)

Well yeah, if it weren’t for Izuku and how he treats Izuku he wouldn’t have anything to improve from; people only think he’s developed because he no longer outright bullies him and “””worries””” (I say in heavy quotes) about him, and “reflects” on how he treated him even though he.......... comes to the absolute wrongest, most idiotic conclusions imaginable, that put the brunt of the excuses on Izuku instead of himself, but Toshinori validates him because Horikoshi has made Toshi into Bakugou’s uwu stan and stan of the two boys’ “friendship” (completely ignoring the fact that THIS KID FOR TEN YEARS BULLIED HIS SON). He’s basically already been devolved to acting like a side character for a long time now, with his funny anger quirk pun partly intended that’s just treated like a joke at this point, just like everyone else’s character quirks, even though it would be far more interesting for him to, you know. actually get some therapy and learn to calm himself and become an actual pleasant person to be around. But that’s not what makes him “funny”, that’s not him, according to most people, so he’s always going to stay like this, a boring angry pomeranian who flies off the handle at everything for no reason, who has done the absolute bare minimum of “changing”, which makes him a perfect character in everyone’s eyes.

“He changes but doesn’t change for what matters” pretty much sums up the problem with him in a nutshell, and is the exact reason he frustrates me so much, that I’ve ranted about plenty before. Bakugou has never been viewed through the lens of a bully, an abuser, he was never set up to be that, at least not realistically, and so his development hasn’t happened in accordance with that setup either, and people don’t have a problem with it and actively praise it because the manga actively downplay(ed)s the severity of that origin story. People can ignore the reality of how seriously traumatic being bullied for ten years of your childhood, verbally and physically would be, and how seriously and with such sensitivity such a relationship and character arc must be handled, because aside from the very first chapter when Izuku and Bakugou are still in middle school, really, with the “take a swan dive off the roof” comment and others, it’s never focused on in that way ever again; ever since, it’s just been treated as a typical anime “rivalry”, that both of them need to better themselves to overcome. The story and teachers say “the two of them are so alike but they just keep missing each other; if they just made up for each others’ weaknesses and understood that they both want the same thing, they’d be stronger together!”, and Izuku HIMSELF tries so hard to reach through to Bakugou, always still considering him his friend, always feeling like he’s the one equally at fault for their relationship being as rocky as it is, when BAKUGOU!!! FUCKING!!! BULLIED HIM!!! FOR TEN YEARS. bullied a DISABLED CHILD, which again, as a disabled person who relates to Izuku and how he felt about his quirklessness, feelings that continue to affect him even long after he gets a quirk because of how he was treated when he was younger, is DEEPLY unsettling to me. You CANNOT read/watch MHA without the metaphor of quirklessness = disabled being very apparent, and so that makes Bakugou’s bullying and how it is so utterly glossed over and purposefully forgotten a hundred times more disturbing and aggravating than it already is! If this were any other shounen rivalry then yes, it could be resolved with effort from both parties, because both parties have their own personal reasons for why they have trouble getting along with the other, and the fun is watching to see how they will overcome those, but Izuku and Bakugou were never on an equal playing field to begin with; this is a bullying story, with its victim trying desperately to win over and befriend his abuser, when he owes him absolutely NOTHING and has a BOATLOAD of unresolved issues thanks to said bullying, with no outside help from adults for either of them because none of them are acknowledging it as fucking bullying. I guarantee you that if the manga went into much more painful, bleak detail and showed many more flashbacks of how Izuku was treated by Bakugou in the past, and then still continued with the “development” he’s had since, people would be unable to ignore it like they can now, and it would make all of them extremely uncomfortable like it does those of us now who already dislike him. Hori himself has said he doesn’t understand why Bakugou is so popular, but he’s able to just continue as he does with him because no one is complaining, and because he said he regrets making him so awful in the beginning, as if that magically makes it disappear as much as it already has in 90% of the fandom’s collective mind. You wanna know an actual good manga that also deals with a bully of a disabled child growing and improving himself and forming a close relationship with his former victim? A Silent Voice. Such a journey is long, and hard, and it is painful, with many ups and downs and many nasty, hateful, guilt-filled, depression-filled feelings from both sides, along with from other characters who either also partook in the bullying, were bystanders to it who did nothing, or were indirect victims as well. The bully is bullied himself after what he does, and then grows up nearly suicidal, closing himself off and struggling to be social and make new friends because he doesn’t know how and doesn’t entirely feel like he deserves it (and the story notably doesn’t go the route of “he was abused too at home and so that’s why he bullied”), and tries and fails many times to make amends with the person he hurt before he finally is at peace with himself and everyone; the victim, meanwhile, drowns in continued guilt and suicidal feelings over feeling like she’s a burden to others, both from her disability and from watching all the infighting and victim blaming and finger pointing that ensues between her old classmates when all of the nasty emotions are brought back to the surface, along with dealing with budding romantic feelings for her past bully when he genuinely starts being kind towards her and making an effort to connect with her. ASV is entirely about this complex narrative, it’s able to dedicate everything it has to telling this story tactfully and with all the time and attention it needs. MHA, meanwhile, is a shounen battle manga, and so it was never going to do this narrative and Bakugou’s arc justice, even though I honestly think it could have if Hori really wanted to, because Izuku and Toshinori’s relationship has such masterfully subtle and touching emotions and care, at least early on; Horikoshi knows how to write good, subtle character arcs. I’m not asking for something ASV level, of course not, when the series has so many other things it has to juggle. I just wanted Bakugou to be treated as exactly what he is: a former bully, who can be taught, and learn, and reflect, and change, and become a better, more humble, more interesting person, and actually become someone worthy of all the praise and love he gets, not only for Izuku’s sake, but for his own, as well. They don’t excuse his actions in the slightest, but it’s still undeniable that Bakugou himself is a victim of how the adults in his life have treated him and raised his own expectations of himself, giving him the crippling insecurity issues he has, and that they continue to harm him (and Izuku) by simply letting him continue to go on angrily the way he does, instead of getting him help and some therapy in order for him to change and heal from things like being kidnapped by villains (which is no small thing to go through!! on top of his guilt over Toshinori’s final battle!) and becoming a better person to the one he hurt in the past, and it all just makes me so sad, not because I’m all “uwu poor Bakugou”, but just cause his character deserves better, as a person he deserves better, just like Izuku deserves better than everything he’s gone through because of him. This is all just a very long-winded way of agreeing with you OP that yes, none of Bakugou’s “punishments” for his behavior mean anything because he’s punished as a rival student who needs to humble himself in order to get along with his friend he doesn’t like, not as a former(??) bully who needs to be separated from his victim. The bar is set so low, was never set where it should be, and so absolutely no progress to “better himself” Bakugou makes either will mean anything, as long as it’s never acknowledged that he needs to make amends as a bully and abuser.

[athenaquinn]

Bury It || Ally & Athena

TIMING: Current (today) LOCATION: The middle of a forest in White Crest PARTIES: @alejandra-solano and @athenaquinn SUMMARY: Ally and Athena run into a spriggan. Everything is fine. CONTENT: very brief allusions to physical and emotional abuse

Even after everything, there was still a certain peace Athena felt in the woods. Peace and a sense of power. It was somewhere where she could take control and where she could deal with things however she saw fit without having to worry about other people. Usually, at least. Except for some hikers here and there, but Athena also often found her way into more secluded parts of the forest. Today’s venture was somewhere in the middle ground - not so secluded that she was all but guaranteed to be alone, but also not somewhere that she knew many hikers would be going. Especially as the Maine weather began to tease the coming of a proper spring, she knew she’d have to be more mindful of humans when she went out on her hunts. She felt goosebumps run up her arm, then - and so she scanned the clearing, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Eastward, she thought, if she let herself concentrate enough. Another benefit of not many people being around was that it was easier to locate. Rolling her shoulders, Athena began to walk in that direction, fingertips ghosting against her hip where one of her many knives sat, under her jacket.

Ally was going to figure out where that goddamned cabin was whether it was the last thing she did. People can’t just be forming towns in the woods. She trudged through the underbrush, something she had done a lot over the past few weeks. Being alone was something that Ally struggled with. She was vulnerable when she was alone, but the hobbies she took under her belt left her alone so often. She tried to shake the thought away and as she did, she realized she wasn’t alone. She heard someone walking parallel to her and she paused, peeking between the trees. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed what looked like a tree move. Again she shook her head, she had been awake for a long time. “Who is there!” she yelled, grasping the gun at her hip, and looking to the spot in the woods where she last heard walking. 

She had the option to leave town now, if she really wanted to. Leave and study somewhere else just like she and her brother hadn’t been permitted to do for college. Except she had reasons to stay here - Ariana, for one - and even if she wasn’t bound to her obligations in the same exact way as before, she still had a duty to protect people, and letting fae run amok all over town wasn’t something that would ever sit well with her. Athena continued to make her way through the forest, careful to not step on any branches, or knock over any piles of rocks. She felt her body tense up again - which had to mean she was headed in the right direction. A figure was moving between some trees. That had to be it, didn’t it? She regarded it (always an it, never anything more, when she was hunting - it was important to separate monsters into their own category), though noticed that it was beginning to approach another woman and for a moment she caught her breath, wavering. The other figure was human - or so she thought - but she felt a bit of doubt swirling in her chest. She could take them both out if need be, she told herself - though she would give it a few moments more, see what happened. Athena let her hand slip under her jacket, fingers wrapping around the hilt of her knife. She could at least guess that the fae was possibly a spriggan, at least based on size. That was one thing to go off of, and to watch out for.

Out of the corner of her eye Ally saw a tree move again. Damn, had she really been awake that long? Still she turned, and what she saw took her breath away. A being creeping through the woods. Was she dreaming? Her mind tried to wrap itself around this impossibility, not a vampire, not a person, not an illegal village in the woods. What was it? Before she could catch her breath it was moving toward her, and she leaped back, tripping over a rock and watching her weapon go flying in the other direction. She always joked about keeping her stake on her, and now she really wished she had. She felt a sharp pain in her ankle when she tried to get back up, watching the beast before her approach. “What do you want from me?” she yelled, pushing herself back. She felt hands wrap around her legs, holding her in place. Its eyes were locked on her badge, attached to her jacket. 

The other woman was human. Had to be, at this point. Or at least not fae - and if she happened to be something else, Athena would find a way to deal with it. What was most important was helping someone who was being hurt by a fae. That was always what was most important (at least in her mind, at least now) (her parents might well have had other things to say but she didn’t want them to enter her thoughts and mind again - not now - please, not now) and so that was how she would have to deal with it. Get rid of the fae first, figure everything else out later. She watched the woman fall and winced involuntarily, because that had to hurt (did hurt, she knew, recalling a memory from years ago) more than the mats in her family’s training room. Then the fae was on top of the woman and holding her down. If it was hurting her, then Athena knew she had double the reason to go on the offensive. “Stop that!” She called, suddenly, stepping out from her hiding place. The spriggan (it had to be, all signs pointed to that) took little note of her words, instead continuing to hold her down. “Try to push it off!” She called out, taking a few steps closer. “Knee it, or something. See if that works!” 

Ally whipped her head around as a girl appeared from the woods. Brave. Braver than she had been in the same situation. Not the time, Ally. She was wriggling under the hands of the creature and felt herself come up with a sarcastic response. Instead she swallowed and gathered all of her strength. With her good leg she gave a strong kick, flinging it back a little bit. That was when it split into two. “What the fuck is happening?” she yelled at the girl who seemed far too calm for the situation at hand. She felt her attention being pulled elsewhere, toward a moss covered log in the distance. Why did she care about a log? She pushed herself to pull her attention back as the two beings lunged toward her again, hands reaching for the glimmer of her badge. She grasped on to a branch, swinging it to swat one hand away, but the other grabbed her arm. “You knee it!” she yelled. 

Maybe asking a civilian, even a police civilian to handle this themselves was a stupid idea. Athena knew full well that at least most of the police were far too human - or not human at all. Either way, even if her parents had made certain she (and their family) were in the police department’s good graces, they also reminded her that there were too many things (countless, even) that she knew how to handle that the police simply could not. That she’d been designed to handle since she was a child. “That thi-that creature-being - is attacking you.” She resisted the urge to huff, because that would only distract her - and for once in recent times she actually felt like she had at least a bit of a handle on things. “Which I know is stating the obvious.” The spriggan continued to attack her, and part of Athena wanted to watch in morbid fascination - wondering what exactly it was that was making this one so keen to attack as much as it did, rather than just steal and leave. “I cannot knee it given that it’s closer to you.” She grabbed her knife, finally removing it from its resting place on her hip. “If you give it a kick, I can,” deal with it, “assist. I can also- ” her sentence cut off, she watched as the spriggan made another lunge at the woman, trying to pull at her hair and grinning, its eyes on the badge. Some spriggans kill after they obtain their desired object. She could see the words on the page in front of her, hear her father’s words. “Just- ” she took another few steps forward, the blade of her knife cutting into the fae’s leg, a small, surface-level wound. That was something of a start, though the spriggan hardly seemed to mind it.

Ally was finally locked in, pushing past the surprise of whatever was on grabbing at her. She could deal with the fact that even though she had spent her whole life researching vampires she had never seen a tiny horned one later. What she needed to focus on now was not getting bit and staying alive. She was annoyed by the girl before her, wondering why she wasn’t doing anything. She watched as she cut into the being with her knife and leaned against a tree, pushing it back towards the girl with her legs. A knife would do nothing if this was a vampire, she knew that, but maybe it would run off if it was inconvenienced enough. “The slicing and dicing isn’t really working.” she yelled, using the branch in hand to swing at the creature again as it leaped toward her. “Fuck this.” she exhaled, deciding that if the girl wanted this thing closer to her, she was going to help. “I hope you’re ready to assist!” she called. As it launched itself at her again she jumped at the creature, trying to pin it down. She was back on the ground and she felt it’s hand close in around her badge. “Now would be a good time.” she said, writhing beneath the creature as she felt claws dig into her skin. 

The slicing and dicing isn’t how I’d put it, but it will work, I know that much, was what Athena wanted to say, but held her tongue. Even if an adult was behaving in a ridiculous manner, they still deserved respect. Usually - so long as they weren’t vermin of some sort themselves. That was something that she doubted she’d ever fully shake (even if she knew she’d made at least one notable exception) - but it also wasn’t the worst behavior to have - after all, basic politeness did wonders, she’d found. She raised an eyebrow, impressed at the woman’s willingness to jump into action, though she knew that she had only a little time to work with as it jumped at the woman again. Athena ran over, kneeing the creature before it could grab the woman’s badge, watching with an amused smirk across her face as it crashed against a nearby tree. She didn’t have too much time to focus on the precision of her kick, because this spriggan was either particularly aggressive or particularly determined, or some combination of the two. She ran after it, knocking it to the ground and straddling it, holding her knife to its throat, letting the burn of the iron begin before she sliced it open. Except that the spriggan started to reach out towards her necklace - the one Ariana had given her for Valentine’s Day, and with that she sliced into its shoulder. “You know that thievery is illegal, don’t you?” She spat, watching a bit of blood fall to the ground, though it was still very much alive, struggling under her. She looked over to the woman. “How are you? Did it scratch you at all?”

Ally was sure this was how she was going to die. She always knew that it was going to be related to the supernatural in some way. How would they cover it up? What would they tell her dad? She thought of all the dozens of excuses she had given to bereaved parents in the past. She would soon be one of those. Suddenly the weight was lifted off her body, faster than she had time to register. She watched as the woman sat atop the creature, talking to it, as if she knew what it was. Too calm she remembered. When the girl addressed her, Ally snapped out of her shock. She looked at a small tear in her jacket, a scratch across her skin from it’s claw. “I’ll get a bandaid later. You know how to deal with this? I have a stake...” she fumbled, still stuck on the idea that this was a vampire. The world was too small for there to be anything other than vampires. Right? Ally searched the ground for something, anything to help, frustrated by how defenseless she was. She settled on another loose branch, slowly approaching the struggling pair. She watched as the beast lunged for the necklace at the girl’s throat again. “Watch out!” she called. This thing was injured but damn it was determined. 

Her parents had always said that she could use her size to her advantage - that being small was of incredible benefit. It had to have been true, after all - her mother was even smaller than she was and she was one of the most powerful - and, if Athena spent too much time thinking about it - terrifying - people that she could think of, and so it had to be. Use everything about you to throw people off your tracks, throw off any would-be suspicion her parents had said so many times that she had lost count. “I’ve got a bandaid and bandages - we just - there’s a few things to deal with, first.” Adjusting her position to ensure that the spriggan didn’t go anywhere, she blinked rapidly a few times. “A stake? I - no. The offer’s really appreciated and good on you for carrying that around but that won’t work for this.” A laugh escaped from the spriggan’s lips and Athena turned back, hitting it across the face. “I really wouldn’t laugh if I were you.” In her momentary distraction she didn’t notice the spriggan reaching for her necklace again. “The heads up is appreciated!” She called out to the woman, returning her knife to the spriggan’s throat, a smirk crossing her lips. Well, she always appreciated having to work for something. Though still rewarding, when fae put up no fight it made everything just a bit less fun. “Things like this rob and steal and can do much worse, if we let them.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth. 

Knives, a band-aid, who was this woman? The medic of the forest? Won’t work for this. What is this? It felt like the world was both expanding and collapsing around Ally. There was more to be afraid of, more to protect people against, and more to learn. The wind left her lungs and she slowly took in the information that the woman was offering up. She hadn’t noticed but the stick she was holding had dropped from her hands. The spriggan must have seen the opportunity because it reached out, grabbing a hold of her bad ankle. She let out a scream and kicked at it, her ankle in searing pain. Grabbing a hold of the stick she stabbed at the hand grasped around her ankle. “Let’s not let them, yes?” she expressed, wriggling. She was frustrated she had been caught in its grasp again. 

She had to say, if she had to run into any police officer in the woods, this woman seemed to be one of the best options she had. At least she was willing to jump into action and she’d yet to call Athena a kid, which automatically gave her bonus points, even if she was thinking it. Except that the spriggan had at least partially gotten out from under her and was grabbing the woman’s ankle, knocking her onto the ground. “Seriously? You’ve gotta give up sometime, you know.” Athena muttered to the spriggan, cutting into its arm, forcing it to let go of the woman’s ankle. “You know what happens if you misbehave, don’t you?” It continued to move, hissing and screeching as it attempted to grab at the other woman again.

Ally kept struggling and watched as the woman cut the being. As it’s hands slipped from her ankle, her boot caught on to it’s pocket. As she kicked it away, she watched a few small items fall to the forest floor. She didn’t think much of it, but was surprised to see what looked like roots spreading throughout the ground. “Is that normal?” she asked, feeling the earth developing beneath her. As it shook the being seemed to become more distressed, grasping at the ground, theoretically searching for whatever had fallen. The rage of losing the items seemed to send one more surge of strength through it, as it started flailing around. “Can I help? Do we...?” She didn’t want to say the last part of that sentence, because she didn’t like to think about it as killing. As she attempted to rise off the ground she uttered some curses under her breath. She hadn’t really been paying attention to the pain in her ankle but as she moved to stand it was clear that this wasn’t a simple fix. 

“Normal’s subjective.” Athena pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The woman deserved at least that much, she figured. She wasn’t about to get into all the ins and outs of everything, but if she had some vague (even if over-generalized and misguided) idea of what vampires were, saying that much wouldn’t do any harm. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want this - well, I don’t want you to come to harm, and I’ve - my mom runs - ran a gym in town so I’ve got lots of training.” The spriggan was flailing just enough and Athena moved to kneel by it, toes of her boots digging into the ground as she slit its throat, watching until it stopped thrashing. She couldn’t take any more time to more fully observe it now, though. “It won’t hurt you any more, don’t worry.” Her voice oddly calm, she grabbed a cloth, wiping off the blade as she glanced over to where something had fallen from the spriggan’s pocket.

His blood seeped into the soil along, crying out as he had. Blood had a memory like no other. It carried with it all his grief and his rage, and his desire for the things he could not have, it carried the cold disdain of the one who had spilled it, and the moral struggle of the police officer nearby. A sacrifice had been made, even if it had not been intended. It was a terrible, wonderful first meal. Tiny roots stretched out from the seeds. For a moment, it was quiet. Then, the ground groaned as the roots expanded and grew deep into the foundations of White Crest. With a loud creak, the seeds rushed upwards, saplings only for a second as thick bark wrapped around the body of the spriggan, lifting it up so that for one horrifying moment it was poised upright like a scarecrow before the wood swallowed up his features, and branches began to form around his arms. Still, the tree grew, up, up. The bark reached for Athena too, as the roots tried to grab at Ally. Inside, they could hear the Spriggan’s body squelch as the branches grew up the length of the tree, tearing its arms from the rest of its body, trapped inside. Leaves spread to fill a gap in the canopy which had not been there before. When it was finished, there was one last creak, as if the tree was sighing in relief, and then all was still. 

Ally staggered back as the tree sprung from the ground, swallowing up the creature. She watched with wide eyes as it was violently devoured. It had been hell bent on attacking her only moments before, but still she gulped down a feeling of sadness and guilt. There was darkness as its leaves spread throughout and she waited a second for the tree to do something. “Was that part of it? Is this like a thing it does?” she asked, kicking the base of the tree. “Hello?” She looked over at the other girl, waiting for the guidance she seemed to provide. 

Athena jumped - just slightly - as a tree rose from the ground and wrapped around the spriggan. For a brief moment, she watched in morbid fascination - it was something that she’d never seen before, and that made it remarkable (and, she noted, a convenient disposal method for the body). Except then the bark reached out for her and she couldn’t help but let the start of a scream escape her lips as she jumped up and away, the other woman’s words drawing her attention. “Not at all.” She made her way over to the tree, knife still in one hand as she ran her fingertips along the bark for a quick moment before bringing her hand away. “I’ve never seen anything like that. But we might not want to be right next to it - in case it tries to go after us again.” She bit her lip. 

Ally nodded and took the other woman’s advice, stepping over the roots that had spread throughout the ground. “What have you seen? You knew a lot about...whatever that was.” Ally said, raising a brow. Her eyes glanced to the knife still in her hand. Had she seen too much? She kept a careful distance between herself and the woman with the knives, especially because she didn’t have her weapon with her. “I’ve seen some things but nothing like that. Or this.” she said, peering up to the top of the trees. 

“I’ve lived in this town my whole life so… a lot.” Tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth again, Athena wasn’t sure what to say. There were a lot of ways that any phrasing she provided - even the most basic and simplest - could make someone look at her like she had two heads or didn’t know what she was talking about. Could make them use the same terms she and so many others had used for Blanche back in high school - which now left a sour taste in her mouth in more ways than one. “I will say the whole tree thing,” she gestured towards it, “is new. The thing that attacked you, I’m a bit more familiar with.” 

“A whole life of this shit does stuff to you.” Ally muttered under her breath, gazing up at the tree. At least she only had vampires to deal with, not weird tree things. That brought her to her next line of questioning. “Are there more...things? Out there?” she asked, her voice shaking slightly. She didn’t know how she would grapple with a world where every person could be a different kind of monster. She would lose her mind. “Also what exactly was that, and why did it want my badge? I can’t imagine weird little monsters care about impersonating a police officer.” She then realized she had forgotten something important. “Thank you, for helping me. That thing was...scary.” she still didn’t trust the woman, but she had saved her from whatever that was. 

“I guess it can!” Athena shrugged, over-enthusiastic again. Not willing to delve too deep into whatever the woman might have been implying. She’d dealt with the spriggan and she didn’t want to think too much about why the tree was growing - if she’d managed to mess something else up - again. “I - there’s a lot out there.” She blinked, because part of her duty was to not let super-average-ordinary humans get more of an idea of everything that was out there. That would lead to too many trying to go after things themselves, when they weren’t properly skilled for it. “Some… things… like to steal for the fun of it, but they can do far worse than just steal.” At the ‘thank you’, Athena shrugged. “Of course. It’s - well, it’s what I do. She opened up her bag, pulling out a bandage. “Do you want me to help out with what happened? I’m pre-med, so I know what I’m doing.” She offered her best reassuring smile.

There’s a lot out there. The breath left her body, a feeling of deep despair pouring through her. Was it all true? Was every book she read full of fantastical creatures just a depiction of the world she couldn’t see. She was lost in her thoughts and pulled out by the other woman’s statement. “What you do? Find them? That’s what you do?” That’s what Ally tried to do, albeit mostly unsuccessfully. Maybe this woman was an ally rather than a foe. She hesitated at the offer for help, but she had a pretty deep cut. “Sure. Although I think I’m going to have to get this ankle looked at by someone with a degree.” she said, frowning at the ankle that hurt whenever she put the lightest amount of pressure on it. “My name is Ally, by the way. You are?” She wanted to look into this mysterious woman. 

“Yes.” You could say that. That’s one word for it. “Find them, and make certain that they do not hurt others, because some of them are really keen to do so.” Athena made a small face. She hoped she didn’t sound too crazy, too off-putting. She didn’t want that, especially with humans, and especially a human who also happened to be a police officer, regardless of her thoughts or her parents’ thoughts on the effectiveness of the police in town. “I understand - there’s a reason they don’t just let anybody practice medicine.” She scrunched up her nose as she knelt next to the woman and began to bandage her up. “Athena.” She grinned. “Pleasure to meet you, Ally.” 

“Is it like...an organization. Are there others?” Ally asked. Maybe she wasn’t as alone as she thought. Maybe there were other people out there driven to make the world better. She watched as Athena bandaged her and suddenly felt grateful that there was at least one. It made the burden feel just a little bit less, like Athena had lifted the weight of the world off of her, even for just a minute. She noticed the clock on her wrist. They had been out here a while, she had to be back at the station soon. “Fun question, do you know how to get out of here?” she said.

“Yes. Sort of, but not a super formal- ” well, formal but not in the way I will explain, “well, not like when I was in Girl Scouts but yes. There’s people around who help out the town and help keep it safe.” Athena let a soft smile cover her lips. “Getting out of here?” She looked up at the forest around them. “I don’t know right off the bat, but I earned every badge there was to earn, and helped my brother earn some of his for Boy Scouts, too.” She stood up, and offered her hand to Ally. “What do you say?”

There were more people. It wasn’t just her. Today she had been devastated and uplifted. It was too soon today that she wanted to know them, but she slid the knowledge to the back of her mind. She needed to do what she always does. Research. Instead she took Athena’s hand and smiled. “Take me away girl scout.”

[too-attached-to-fiction]

How They’d React To You Having A Panic Attack | HP

Masterlist here

THIS ONLY INCLUDES THE GOLDEN TRIO ERA, NOT THE MARAUDERS. Let me know if you want me to do a marauders edition and I’ll do my best!

A/N: My symptoms for anxiety attacks include chest pains, having a hard time breathing, my throat closing up, and a lot of crying. Every person is different, but I based these headcanons off of those symptoms. Friendly reminder that SIGNIFICANT OTHERS DO NOT AUTOMATICALLY MAKE EVERYTHING OKAY AND THAT ONLY YOU CAN BE THE ONE TO HELP YOURSELF WITH MENTAL STUFF!!!

Harry

Would 100% be distracted and probably not pick up the signs immediately

You would literally have to sit in his lap and start crying for him to notice

But once he does this boi will literally drop anything and everything to help.

The two of you have developed a yes or no system of asking questions when you’re like this

“Common room? Or stay here?”

“Is it alright if I go get you some water?”

Would almost always distract you because he doesn’t know how to comfort properly

he knows what it’s like to bottle things up so he understands if you don’t want to tell him about what’s upsetting you

On the rare occasion you actually tell him he’d probably rock you back and forth

let’s be real he doesn’t understand all the time and he def won’t pretend to

but he knows what it’s like to not have people believe him so he keeps his mouth shut and just listens

if you’re in the classroom generally you’ll run out and go to Madame Pomfrey and he’ll come asap

Ron

Ok we all know how oblivious this boi is

and the book for understanding girls diD NOT have a section on this stuff

hermione generally has to spell it out for him when you do have a panic attack

is kind of frazzled

“what do you want mE to do about it?”

“They’re your partner you idiot!”

Ok this is a personal headcanon but ron isn’t very snuggly

but he is very kissy

Would definitely kiss you anywhere and everywhere

they’re all very light kisses and generally he avoids your face

He would think food is always the answer so he digs out his stash of Honeydukes sweets

and we all know this boi doesn’t share food often so this is a big deal

would maybe ramble about his day and wouldn’t stop until you kissed him

if this happened during class i guarantee he’d do the exact same thing as Harry

Hermione

As the smartest of the trio, she’d pick things up in a heartbeat

knows exactly what to do

Definitely has not memorized a list of your triggers and ways to get you to calm down

I think she’s one of those people who will try to show their support in the smallest ways

like squeezing your hand or giving you a glance

if you’re alone together then she’d probably pull out a book and start talking because she knows you like that

maybe even reciting random facts until she makes you grin

Or she’d find crookshanks and cuddle with you and the kitty

if you’re in class this one would definitely figure out how to get you out of the room and into a better atmosphere

Draco Malfoy

Like hermione, can catch on immediately

It is not his fault that he knows almost all of your triggers, he just HAPPENED to find out from your roommates

you’ve been there at his worst moments so he’s v determined to be there for you

So determined that at any HINT of a panic attack he’s nearly exploding with questions

Keeps a close eye at all times

Would probably bully people out of the common room/dorm so you can have a quiet space

even tho sometimes that makes you feel worse bc other people are suffering at your expense

grabs tissues and your favorite things without question

Would 100% try to ditch class if you were having one or just a bad day in general

“Draco, you’re not injured”

(Have I mentioned this dumbass would try to injure himself in potions if it meant going to the hospital wing to see you)

(Snape totally knows what he’s doing so he pretends to turn a blind eye)

Sometimes he knows you’re about to have one even BEFORE you have one

or if you’re in a different place in the castle

Fred Weasley

wowee this boy would drop any prank he’s working on to help

he’s literally dropped a fucking dung bomb at his feet and stayed there because he sees you down the hall coming his way and you don’t look that great

Considering he knows all of the hiding spots around the castle he would bring you to one of them

Relies on breathing exercises the most

“Can you breathe for me? Here, let me count. 1, 2, 3″

“That’s it, take a deep breath”

Always talks you through it

Always wants to know what caused it

unfortunately sometimes he pushes it too far

but he has good intentions

Will cling to you for a day after you’ve had it just to make sure you’re really okay

If you’re in class and you show the signs he immediately coordinates a prank with George so you two can slip out without being caught

George Weasley

there are some times where you just collapse in his arms and he kNOWs

Cuddles for days with this guy

Won’t move unless you say it’s okay

weaves his fingers through your hair

Sometimes even braids it

When you’re calming down he usually asks you to do grounding exercises with him

“Tell me 5 things you can see.”

“George-”

“Five things, (Y/N). They can be real or imaginary if you don’t want to open your eyes.”

makes the corniest jokes

constant reminders that he loves you every five minutes

like it’s a five minute timer every time five minutes goes by he’s like “you know I love you right”

“Georgie, you told me that five minutes ago”

“Well five minutes are up so i need to tell you again”

Would ask fred to pull a prank to get you out of class when you show the warning signs

Luna Lovegood

You never need to say anything with luna

You walk into the room and she goes “Hard day, was it?”

Will talk aimlessly for hours because she knows you love her voice

if you’re in the common room she’ll start making random observations about people

that usually gets a small laugh out of you

If she’s up to it sometimes this girl will even sing lullabies

all you need to do is close your eyes and be around her and things are better

Is always trying to get you to smile, even if it’s just a little

She does know a thing or two about anxiety but she prefers the information you give her to the information she’s found in books

Will talk about creatures for DAYS.

if you’re in class she’ll just start talking about anything

most of the class ignores her because she does talk a lot about nothing a lot of the time

but it’s very helpful

Neville Longbottom

this cutie

completely forgetful but will always be there

I think out of everyone he really understands what its like to feel the way you feel during panic attacks

almost always offers chocolate and a random factoid about herbology

Sometimes takes you to the greenhouse (Sprout gave him special access) and points at all of the plants

Or sometimes just takes you outside because “the sun will make you feel better”

even tho the sun is behind clouds like 95% of the time

Always gives you his sweaters and holds your hands even if they’re clammy

gives THE BEST HUGS OH MY GOD

he just,,, engulfs you? in warmth?

like his hugs are so sAFE

if you’re in class he’ll write you little notes or glance at you worriedly but he won’t check in until after so you don’t get in trouble

[incorrecthpjo]

So @of-stars-and-moon and @shohina10 encouraged me on posting this, I should thank them. I tried writing kinda angsty wolfstar one shot that takes place in the first wizarding war, i hope you'll like it!! English is not my first language so there might be a few mistakes, i hope you won't mind them.

"Prongs, mate, I'm kinda bored, how about trying something new?" offered Sirius, while playing with the promise ring on his hand, given by Remus. Remus had given it to Sirius a few months ago, three days after that day, it was going to be the sixth month anniversary. They weren't ready for a real marriage yet, because they were only nineteen and even though James and Lily were thinking they were qualified for a marriage, well they were James and Lily and didn't have the problems like Sirius and Remus. Still, there was a war going on and they didn't know what the other day was waiting for them. They had a risk of losing each other any minute. So they thought a promise ring would be good, it wouldn't be a real engagement and also it would be a thing they can keep forever.

"Something new like what, mate?" asked James, excited about what Sirius was about to say.

"We can go to the future, Prongs!" Sirius was yelling excitedly. They had used their magical powers in the most extraordinary ways, such as becoming an animagus in a very young age or making a map of Hogwarts that even the best wizards of the world wouldn't be able to even imagine. Going to the future would be hard, but not impossible for James and Sirius.

"Mate, this is a great idea!" James ruffled his hair like he did whenever he was thinking so hard. "Will Remus come with us?"

"I don't think so, Prongs. He is on one of those 'missions' again and no one knows when will he come back." Sirius had a obvious change in his mood and James knew why. Sirius was having panic attacks about his relationship with Remus for weeks. Remus was going to the Order missions, but it was hard to believe because the "missions" were so long and he didn't have any reasons to not tell his friends why he was missing for all those days. Except for three things: he could be cheating on Sirius or he could be an agent. Or both at the same time.

"Okay, Pads, we'll go together. After all, you and I, Prongs and Padfoot, are the strongest couple in the whole Wizarding World!" James had a big smile on his face to cheer Sirius up. He was smirking, the last time he had smiled like this was when Lily finally accepted going on a date with him.

"Yes we are the strongest couple mate!" It was like Sirius almost forgot what was upsetting him. Even James' smile could do this.

"You know, if we were married, nothing could stay in our way."

Sirius snorted. "Yeah bro! You are right. I'm so in love with you, I wish we were married!" said Sirius, jokingly.

"Pads, I love you." said James in a very dramatic tone, hand on his heart like he just made wedding vows or something really cute happened.

"Prongs tell Lily that she's your second wife because I definitely am your first and only love!" Sirius was still laughing, only James could make him laugh this much. Even Remus wasn't able to do that.

They talked about how to go to the future, and they finally decided on turning a time-turner to the oppeside way. Every turn was going to take them a year further, so they were going to turn it ten times. They were going to be twenty nine, well, Sirius would be thirty but he didn't want to accept the fact he would get old. Well, twenty nine was young but thirty was old, right?

Two days later, they were ready to go. They wore the time turner and after ten turns, they were in 1989.

They looked around a bit, Godric's Hollow was looking kind of the same, only a few houses were renovated, and a few stores' glasses were full of new posters but that wasn't so surprising. It had been 10 years after all, some things should have been changed.

There was also a statue of a man and a woman, it had so many flowers around it but James and Sirius didn't look very carefully. If they did, they would see James and Lily, not so aged, hiding a life they couldn't live in their smiles, holding their son in their arms.

"Let's go to Remus' and my house! I'm excited to see there!" Sirius' excitement was very obvious from his voice, he was using the tone he used planning all those pranks. Sirius held James by his wrist and started running, preventing James from offering to see his own home first, stopping a great madness that would come from learning you had died before even turning twenty two and now your son is living with his aunt and not with you as you imagined.

Sirius finally stopped when they arrived to Sirius and Remus' house, or the house once belonged to them. The garden was full of cute flowers, there was a doghouse but no dogs in sight, all the curtains were closed even though it was a sunny morning.

Something was wrong. Even though it seemed normal, Sirius felt it before entering the house. It was not like them to keep the curtains closed, specially in a sunny day, just like how his own family did in Grimmauld Place 12. And it was not like them to not having a dog, they were already the fathers of three dogs.

Sirius gave James a look, James knew what it meant because he was thinking about the exact same thing.

"Alohomora!" Sirius pointed his wand at the door and opened the door. It was his own house, he had every right to open the door whenever he wanted.

Sirius' leather jacket he was wearing right now was still on the coat hanger, right next to a cardigan that Sirius assumed belonged to Remus.

"Damn, didn't I get a new jacket? I mean I love this baby," Sirius pointed at it, "But I should get new clothes, mate."

"Yeah mate, I'm sure it stinks," said James, jokingly.

"No!" said Sirius, angrily and frowningly. But he knew James was joking.

There were some noises coming from somewhere, noises of two men singing along to a song was playing on the radio, the song sounded like rock, Sirius felt proud of his future-self.

Remus' voice was still lovely, often interrupted by cute giggles and little moanings. But Sirius' voice - didn't sound like Sirius. At all.

"Dude, what happened to your voice?" asked James.

"I don't know but I will pull off my vocal cords and turn them into guitar strings."

They got what was going on and what happened to Sirius' voice when they entered the kitchen. Sirius' voice sounded awful because it wasn't Sirius' voice. It was someone else's voice.

Someone else who was giving Remus little kisses on his neck while hugging him and doing things only Sirius did to him. Someone else who was interrupting Remus while he was making pancakes. Someone else who was singing songs with Remus. Remus wasn't resisting. Why wasn't he resisting? He was even making sounds that shows he's enjoying this situation. Sirius' painting he did last week, well last week and 10 years ago, he corrected himself, was still hanging on the wall and Remus was still wearing the promise ring, probably meant Sirius was still living in this house. His clothes were still around the house, and Remus brought somebody else to their home? To cheat on Sirius?

How could Remus do to Sirius? How could he do this to them? Sirius felt like all of his trust and love towards Remus were slipping out of his hand, leaving Sirius all empty.

"Where the hell am I? Do I know what the hell is going on in this house? What happened to us Remus!?" Sirius shook head, trying to get rid of the useless thoughts. He glanced at James, who was looking at him from the second they saw Remus.

"Mate-" James tried to talk but Sirius interrupted him.

"What the fuck happened here, Prongs!? Where the hell am I!? Why is Remus cheating on me with that ugly, disgusting, frog voiced bastard!?" Sirius was yelling, shaking from anger and jealousy but the song was so loud, Remus didn't even hear Sirius yelling.

"I don't know, Pads, let's just go back to our own time. This was a bad idea anyway." It was one of the rare moments even James didn't know what to say.

"Ye-yeah... Our own time. We shouldn't have traveled..."

James did all of the time-turning thing while Sirius tried not to fall apart and have a breakdown.

Sirius already had trust issues which held him from trusting and loving people easily, now that he found out Remus has the potential to cheat on him, he had absolutely no trust.

"Prongs, if he did that to me, there's no guarantee that he won't sell you and Lily to Voldemort. We must change the Secret Keeper and we can't tell the new Secret Keeper to Remus."

[hedonisthierophant]

Unveiled eyes and bloodless lips -A skarsgard multiverse thing.

A universe of many Bills, a couple AHAs, and a few others.

@grandpa-sweaters You asked for fic with The Kid and instead I somehow came up with this monstrosity. I’m not sure if you’ve ever read my writing before but I’m sorry.

Dedicated to my literary soulmate @ill-skillsgard I hope you don’t hate it.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, gore, spit kink, cuckoldry, degradation, injury, death.

   Unveiled eyes and bloodless lips

The witch had lost this game long before she even started playing, the final result such a foregone conclusion that it might be more accurate in fact to say she had lost before she had even been born. Forces much larger than her, to call them even titanic in scope would be an understatement, had been attending to the moves of the board since time immemorial. To say her fate such as it was had been decided back then is to grievously misstate the situation. Her exact destiny was fiercely contested on the board of play, it could’ve turned out completely differently, unfolding along anyone of the infinite myriad of paths of kismet. But her doom? That became inevitable she drew the attention of the game’s players. Naturally she remained unaware of the inescapable quality of her demise, she fought against it until the very last moment, her ferocious zeal, her skill and talent, all of it amounted to naught, For what hope does in an insect have against flood? Through no fault of her own, her perspective on this eons-long contest she had the misfortune of being prescribed to enter was…limited. In actuality the word “limited” doesn’t begin to convey the magnitude of her ignorance, imagine if you will placing your eye at a keyhole and attempting to catch a glimpse of a room darkened to pitch black. Some less astute souls might say that her involvement in the affair was rather like bringing a deaf person to the symphony but you dear reader know better, I should hope. Someone who cannot hear will have a different experience with music to be sure, but an experience they will have, the concepts on display remain within the realm of understanding. In our case a young woman became the toy of forces so far beyond her ken that she was to them as an amoeba might be to one of us beneath the prying lens of a microscope. As you may have surmised the tragedy that brings my voyeuristic audience to me unfolded slowly, spanning two lifetimes. Of course, this is only slow from the mortal point of view, to the beings that brought this about such a timeframe was less than the blink of an eye might be to us, for their machinations make glaciers seem to move with haste. Oh yes, they lack celerity but in exchange their actions carry the gravity of unquestionable certainty. However, I have indulged myself long enough. It is time that I recount, to the best of my ability the story which is brought you here today…whilst I remain able to do so.

           Her mother was possessed of a nearly singular lack of the talent that had been at the disposal to members of her family as far back as records would go. She did retain the gift of foresight. In the hands of anyone else this boon guaranteed an interesting life, if not necessarily a good one. The ability to see the future meant that so much of the world could be bent to your whim, fortunes raised, mistakes avoided, enemies destroyed before they even had the opportunity to transgress. For her mother though the only thing her visions brought was infinite sadness. She was many months pregnant you see. The result of an impetuous liaison with an excitable and impassioned thief several years who junior who quite literally stumbled into her lap, betrayed by his gangly limbs at a luxurious hotel bar he happened to be casing. He must have absconded with a waiter’s uniform for nothing about his outfit fit his exquisitely lanky form properly. Remembering the bowtie that hung limply and sideways from his collar still brings a smile to her face. The knave proclaimed she was the love of his life, his goddess and that he would devote his life to securing her happiness. It was quite a scene the tableau made certainly more…unconventional due to the fact that she was celebrating her first wedding anniversary at and sitting directly across from her husband at the time. Their marriage had been mostly a business arrangement, not entirely loveless but more cordial than intimate, but she thinks she could have grown to love him for the smirk that wound its way across his face after the blubbering young would be waiter realized his presence. She recalls watching the scene like a member of the audience at the theater, her face impassive, one brow raised. Her husband had a reputation for an incredibly violent temper, if you ever witnessed it though but she could never convince herself to entirely discredit the rumors. Both she and the scoundrel were frozen, he in fear, she in surprise. Her husband stood up, declare that their food had been awful and they were taking the waiter as recompense. Her husband, she couldn’t stand the pain that thinking his name brought even all these years later. He had made his fortune as proprietor of the “last heir to the great circuses of old, the man was a showman to his core and could have sold sin to the most pious of people. Sitting in the stands watching that man bewitch everyone around her, she certain she could’ve learned to love him had she been given more time with him. Her brother-in-law put a stop to any happy fantasies she might’ve entertained though, fratricide had a way of casting a pall over such things. Death took him from her, but that night he had been so very alive. He threw the reprobate onto their sumptuous marriage bed and ordered her in a voice that was equal parts chilling and gleeful to fuck him within an inch of his life. She did, hips canting madly as she struggled to match the thief’s exuberance for all he was worth, she was the only thing that grounded him as he shuddered through orgasm after improbable orgasm. His soulful eyes stared up at her as though she had hung the stars. After one particularly fierce climax she turned to look at her husband across the darkened room for all the while he had been orchestrating the performance as though being its sole audience member also burdened him with the role of conductor, she may have been having extraordinary sex but for all that the two of them were just  toys for her husband. He controlled them with such precision a note here,  a whisper there, advice for the two of them ghosting across the room. He was a master puppeteer, they may have lacked physical strings but that did not stop him. He ruled over them with the same exactness he employed with his beloved elephants, compelling them through routines to astound and amaze basking in the dazzled worship of the onlookers. That night though, he was taking full advantage of being the only onlooker. She still remembers the manic smile on his face and how his hair looked like flame in the moonlight spilling through the window as hysterical (euphoric) laughter echoed off the walls of their manor, as though her husband were the only one in on some wonderfully hilarious joke of cosmic proportions. Looking back on it, he may well have been. Following their final crescendo as her husband’s euphoria slowly waned into giggling, the criminal professed his love for her for the umpteenth time and begged her to come away with him to Florida, promising to dedicate the rest of his days to making her happy. His stirring gaze brimmed with imploring tears he unabashedly let fall from his eyes, his voice quavering beneath the immense wait of his need to keep her in his life. The scales she used to weigh her options were suddenly dashed as her husband took a great gasping breath, sprang up from his seated position in the sumptuous armchair he’d been occupying and began to flit around the room gathering things to him, mania rolling off him in waves. He’d hoisted the nude crook off her with little apparent effort despite being smaller than the rangy younger man. He spun him around and  slapped the sex drunk visitor’s bare ass as the man squawked in surprise and indignation, pale globes of flesh flushing an angry shade of red and leaving a print in the form of her husband’s hand at the sting. Her husband crouched for on his haunches for a moment to admire his impromptu work of art. She couldn’t see him but she could clearly picture his eyes growing wide with fascination as the mark took shape, his hands twitched with restrained desire, she could practically feel him warring with the impulse to throw him onto their marriage bed yet again, but this time for the purpose of sowing sharper and deeper blossoms of suffering across the entirety of the canvas that was the other man’s body. Disturbed smile still in place as he ground his teeth he muttered to himself in hushed tones. “No Jer, be a good boy. Almost done now, you can do it. Just gotta ape him. He straightened the conflict within him tucked away beneath the impeccable veneer of the consummate showman’s mask. “Would that I could have joined you crazy kids. I’d have loved to use all my fun little tricks on a tall glass of water like you. I’d have driven you crazy, stark raving mad really, shown you just how wild gingers can get, I’m talking showing you where the animals go.” He said with a grin that was only matched in lascivious by it’s lunacy and air of danger. She was certain the young man with the innocence and coordination of a newborn fawn would not have survived such an encounter He clapped the sex drunk young man on the back, sensually garbed him in a ludicrously expensive silken kimono, handed him a duffel bag of cash as though he had one standing by for just this occasion. That torn expression came over his face yet again, this time he surrendered to his urges. Quite suddenly he brought their lips together with the force of a devouring hunger, grinding his crotch against the other man’s leg. Judging by the surprised sound that issued from their visitor, her husband’s tongue had embarked on an enthusiastic exploration of the other man’s mouth. Then as suddenly as the whirlwind of passion had come, it stilled. He stepped back, a deranged smile lighting up his face. A single thin and determined cord of saliva still bound them together in remembrance of their embrace, her husband broke it with his middle finger, and then brought the digit to the other man’s lips. He sucked on it with a dazed expression for a moment before her husband withdrew with out warning. He clapped him on his back, said in perhaps the most jovial tone a cuckold has ever used with his competitor “I’ve always loved a good fireworks show.” and sent the befuddled young paramour on his way with a wink. The next day her husband left on “family business” to some crime on the east coast submerged seven layers deep in corruption and crime, this business ended in his demise. She remembers looking at him in the casket, smirk fixed in place as though even in death he had gotten the last laugh after all.

That had all been eight months ago exactly. Now here she was at a comfortable cruising altitude of 30,000 feet returning from a sojourn to the place where so many of her sisters had famously died along with innocents and hapless victims of circumstance. She buried her husband in the cesspool city and then communed with nature and the spirits of the sisters who came before her in Salem, now all that was left for her to do was return to her family’s modest estate in Canada and continue puzzling over the odd provision in her husband’s will for any child of hers regardless of whether that child was part of their union or not. The trouble began in earnest on that flight which should’ve been an entirely unremarkable trip from Salem to Halifax.  The first unusual occurrence was that her water broke and quite suddenly she was in the process of bringing a life into the world some 2000 stories off the ground suspended in what she’d always considered to be fragile contraptions held aloft by little more than a prayer. Her situation was odd and certainly less than ideal but not unheard of. The flight attendants rushed her to the back of the plane and by what many would like to think was a happy accident there were several members of an obstetrics team present aboard that very flight. The delivery was much more difficult than expected for the culmination of what had been by every reckoning a model pregnancy, with nary an over-enthusiastic kick. Whatever creature was inside of her head suddenly gained the claws of the most wicked of fairytale crones, and the weight of a giant every movement brought only piercing agony and precious little relief. Her screams echoed through the craft that was a dedication to mankind’s hubris as her pain intensified so too did an incredibly unforeseen bout of bad weather, the radar which just hours ago prior to takeoff had promised skies wonderful for flying was now proving itself to be a liar. It was as though passing above some insignificant little town in Maine that caused the storm spring up around them. Their vehicle was buffeted from every direction by winds and frost that were unseasonable even for harsh winter in upper North America. Around her people cursed and prayed, screamed and shouted as the pilots fought to deliver their charges to the ground in the same amount of pieces as they left it, rather than in so many more as was becoming increasingly likely. The town against all sense did have its own infinitesimally small airstrip, it wasn’t until many years later that she would begin to understand just how long ago the pieces had been set in play. As they began their harried descent people were struck by falling luggage and other debris that comes when you compress the lives of hundred people into the space of an aircraft and then turn it into a topsy-turvy. Some were killed, she even took a piece of glass to the jaw but any object that got within striking distance of the newborn child swaddled in a washcloth suddenly lost all momentum and dropped to the floor, this sort of power was most definitely beyond her she had no gift for telekinetics but she was simply too alarmed at the gravity of their situation as Earth’s own gravity began to make its power and its displeasure at having been flaunted known to the passengers. Someone with much more than was at her disposal was looking out for her daughter. And so, their airplane limped down from the sky thoroughly chastened by Zeus and his ilk for its trespass into their domain and Moira and her mother crashed into Castle Rock.

Moira and her mother had always been considered oddities by the town. Two outsiders literally cast out of the heavens and dropped into the midst of unwelcoming townsfolk. Her mother had made the best of the situation, for she had tried, made a very valiant attempt to leave this town but the moment that she crossed the boundaries she was wrapped in agony which would not abate until she took a step back into the town, this phenomenon persisted whether she tried by car or on foot and she refused to give air travel another attempt. She was no fool, she knew well that some incredible force was bent on keeping her and her daughter entrapped in this little nothing of a hamlet. She may not have had the gifts that her family had taken for granted but anyone could make rituals work with enough determination, she used her dead husband’s well to secure a small cottage on the outskirts of town for her daughter and set about turning it into a mystic fortress brimming with occult defenses. Oh the villagers looked at her askance when she went asking strange herbs or when rumors, true in this case, swirled about that she desecrated graves looking for bones or danced in the moonlight bared skin flashing as she circled her home and chanted in forgotten tongues. Castle Rock had a history with which is in their neighbor town of Salem’s Lot you see, they knew the signs even if many had forgotten precisely what they meant. When her mother realized she was potentially in the territory of other practitioners her theory became that a powerful coven existed here and they wanted her for as of yet unknown reasons, but the more she doubt the more it seemed that any true coven had long since died out or moved on to more fitting pastures. The occult in community the town consisted of one or two charlatans, and a few like herself with barely an iota of true power between them, capable of little more than the simplest cantrips, certainly not the massive feats of magic required to both down and trap her here. The first night she performed a ritual of crying beseeching a cracked bowl she’d stolen from the motel to connect her with her mother. Her family had always been a nest of vipers they were immune to their own poison but that did not stop the backstabbing that took place as soon as one was no longer able to defend oneself. Her mother made it clear imperious tones bringing out into the forest and stirring the leaves although in truth she was many miles away, that by allowing herself to be brought low and trapped in a backwater with even a lesser one of her families grimoires by unknown parties she had shamed the family and would be forgotten. They would not come to her aid. Cast out of the one coven she had known since birth she went about forming a tighter knit one as its replacement. She had asked the two charlatans out of town and gathered those with inklings of true power to her, she lacked her family’s innate command of the mystic arts, but her deficit had made her a master ritualist. And so she doled out their precious secrets to a few peasants in this town and made herself a new family. With helpers at her disposal she was able to enact more complex magic and had soon carved out a niche for herself and her followers as the area’s sole authority on matters of the arcane. People flocked to see her from all corners of the continent and a few from even further. She didn’t doubt that her mother, the rest of her family and their retainers were trying their best to end her life but as the years went by it occurred to her that whatever was keeping her here was also keeping her alive, the town seemed to repel anything more than passing outside influences and her family feared to enter its boundaries and become trapped themselves, better to let whatever invisible enemy had brought her there finish her off eventually. Their judgment proved correct.

Moira was an unusual soul, daughter of the town witch and perpetually mistrusted. Despite all that she had a sunny demeanor and those that matter couldn’t help but be charmed by her. For as long as she could remember her mother had forced her, even as a barely aware child to partake in odd rituals, from filling purple gossamer bags of strange herbs sends unknown objects and placing them in various spots throughout the house to keeping a bowl of water by the door and flicking a drop against the wood once it was shut to bathing in oils and strange concoctions by the light of the moon. She did all this because as she told Moira “Something was out to get them.” Moira always found it odd that her mother chose to say something as opposed to someone. Moira had always dreamed of being a doctor but her mother forbid her to leave town for any reason and although she could not explain why to herself even after all these years she’d never even thought of disobeying that particular rule. Her few friends in town and her mother concurred that she would’ve made a brilliant doctor but in a town like Castle Rock the closest she could manage was to be a nursing assistant at the local prison. Some days she bemoaned her life stuck in this little town, so small that it did not even merit a dot on most maps of the area. But she would gather up her natural cheer, take her sketchpad and pencil, sit in the park and draw on those days. Since Moira began drawing she’d been a prodigy, but even from earliest childhood when one has no attention span to speak of after she would dally with the subject and that she would return always to her first. A pair of haunting blue-green eyes, a slightly upturned nose, and your whispering pair of lips, cracked and dry, parched even to the drawings one got the impression that no words passed between them for a long time. The drawings of course worried her mother but try as she might she could puzzle out no theories as to their significance, the last time she’d tried describing ritual on the mysterious subject her bowl had been gripped by a powerful kinetic force shattered from the inside out embedding pieces of cheap ceramic into the wall around her and a few into her body as water that had been cool and tranquil moments earlier became scalding and improbably rose up to splash her in the face. It was then she decided that the drawings were out of her power.

Whenever she was outside of her house Moira always felt the faintest buzzing against her skull, the local doctor had considered it a prodromal symptom of a migraine, but the element never progressed beyond an irritating sound. Until the day she disobeyed one of her mother’s rules. She always looked forward to Fridays, it meant that she have the weekend to draw, but more importantly she would get to see Adrian. Adrian she suspected, that been an enigma from the moment he was born. A Scandinavian street rat with far too much charm and intelligence for his own good and somehow grifted his way across the Atlantic and ended up in her life riding a steed of criminal charges for allegedly attempting to traffic young women across the border. Adrian claimed he had been trying to rescue them and the promised jury of his “peers” such as it was appeared to have bought that story, but Adrian could sell water to a drowning man. Even Moira was unsure what the truth of the matter was. Still Adrian was a charmer, and incorrigible flirt and she had fun bantering with him, although when she asked about his plans his thoughts always turned to getting out and making enough money to support his little boy. About a month ago, Adrian had complained of awful whispering noises splitting his skull during the day while Moira was not on shift. She walked into his cell the later at the start of the graveyard shift and found him sitting as though he were a wounded lion whose legs had been caught in a trap, through his quick pained breaths he greeted her in a melodious accent that was related to but unlike Adrian’s own. She saw that his legs were twisted, broken and fractured at various intervals as though someone had taken a chisel up and down the length of bone within his limbs. No one at the prison could explain the origin of his injuries and beyond a cursory visit from the institution’s uncaring physician no one tried to. As long as word did not escape these walls no one cared, Moira had thought about telling but who was there to tell? How did one even begin to do that? She’d never even left this town once in her twenty-something years. He been an able-bodied, athletic young man at lights out, and had awoken as…

“A cripple! I am but a poor humble cripple and I throw myself on your mercy, my dear sweet Moria. How must I abase myself before you to obtain another of these wonderful puddings? I am willing to do quite a lot, to serve…no that’s not quite the right word, oh your language is so silly…Service! I am willing to service you in oh so many ways!” He said in his singsong voice, appearing quite proud of himself for hunting down his lexical quarry. He he had used the provided spoon merely  an implement to tear the thin film of plastic keeping him from his prize, flung it away and for lack of a better descriptor… began preforming cunnilingus on the pudding pouch in his hand, his performance was complete with moans and groans and little contented sighs. All the while never breaking eye contact with her, blue orbs burning into her own filled with indecent proposals. Unwilling to tolerate his antics anymore she snatched the offending pudding cup from his grasp, for the shadow of an instant she could have sworn a terrible look of feral rage had flashed across his countenance but it was gone before Moira could register whether or not it ever truly been there. “I am so terribly sorry dear Moira for my offense, it is just that in my day, we did not have such…culinary delights. He’d slowed to get the word “culinary” out properly but hadn’t stumbled and looked satisfied. In his day, that was the other thing, in the month since Adrian awoken the entire prison wailing about whispering in his cell, according to the doctors he developed a dis-associative identity. The young man that now occupied the cell which officially belonged to Adrian, called himself Ivar Lothbrok. He had been doing his best to convince Moira that he was the spirit of a long dead Viking who had for reasons unknown even to himself woken up in a body that was so similar to his own that it had frightened even him. The prison psychiatrist couldn’t have cared less about the situation in that cell, but to Moira it was quite the engaging mystery.

Today Moira decided to challenge him. “If you really aren’t Adrian, prove it if you’re not him then your innocent of the crimes that got him put in here and you should be angry, you should want out.” The smile that split the face in front of her should have been a warning. “I may be innocent of his petty crime dealing in flesh and weird…potions,” Moira decided to let the odd word choice go to spare his pride. “But I have killed and maimed, and lied,  and stolen, and coveted many times over. You’re correct though, I do want out of the cell but for the moment I’m right where I want to be.” Moira, ever quizzical couldn’t stop herself from asking “Why do you want to be here?” “Because here is where you are.” he said as if he were speaking to the dullest child in all the world. “I will indulge you however, I am not Adrian, Adrian had pure wholesome thoughts about you, he was going to be free, tell you that he wanted you to be his little boy’s mother, beg you to start a family and run away with him to whatever little speck of a town he found someone foolish enough to care for the child while he was here. He’d have trafficked poison and flesh slaves or slaughtered swine for the rest of his days for you. He used to touch himself here in the dark fantasize about reaching through the bars of the cage and touching your skin, used to dream of having pure loving sex with you on a blanket by fjords illuminated only by the stars and the moon, lest he seemed to greedy to want to see you in all your glory. He wanted to fill your cunt with his seed over any over until the two of you made a brother or sister for precious little Patrick. One big happy family.” He spat out the infant’s name like a curse most vile, and treated the world family as though it was unconscionable poison on his tongue. She took a breath intending to halt whatever sick game he was playing, but the moment she drew breath and opened her mouth his eyes blazed with danger. “Keep your tongue behind your teeth if you wish to keep it all wench!” He roared. “You asked for this, now you will listen. I am not Adrian because never in his wildest dreams would he have contemplated the fantasy of using your uniform to tie you down and spitting on your face over and over forcing you to swallow what you could, and what you couldn’t would slide down between those perfect breasts of yours and they would glisten as I played with them, sucked and bit until they were raw, then I would have kept spitting until your cunt was drenched from the inside out, I would have laid siege to it like it was my traitor brother’s last stronghold. Oh, the sounds and squeals I would have pulled from you. I would have lavished you with my tongue and fingers, bit and sucked and twisted and slapped and pulled and made you come over and over again until you understood what it is to be ravished by a god!” He broke off into a fit of chuckling then capped with a wistful sigh. “But alas all that is denied to me, and indeed you, for you belong to someone else, and as sweet as you would be, you are not worth the effort of challenging his claim.” He stated this with such nonchalance that it broke the terrible spell that she had been under and she fled the prison with eyes burning and tears streaming.

Ivar smiled as she fled, finally, finally. he was one step closer to being free of this accursed in-between place, he was getting home to his beloved Eira and their little girl. Or perhaps another sojourn through life with his healer who had the body of a tower. Or maybe he’d meet that lippy little puppy of an entitled young man in Pennsylvania again who secretly craved discipline. Whatever happened he would be home again, nothing would stop him.

In her haste, she entered her home, ran to her bedroom and threw herself down on the bed without observing her mother’s rules. Had she been paying more attention she would’ve noticed that the water in the bowl she was supposed to flick at the door suddenly evaporated and the gossamer bags filled with protective elements suddenly caught flame and turned to ash in moments. It was then that she heard his voice. “Please don’t cry. I’m here now, it’ll be alright.” His tone was nearly plaintive. She didn’t bother setting up she knew that the voice came from no place within her home. “I’ve been waiting…eternities for you Moria,” He whispered inside her skull. “Let me make you feel better.” There was a hand stroking her face. Her eyes shot open and she beheld a figure that was both present and absent, there was wait to him but light seemed to pass through him through him as though he was merely a projection. Even trapped in the in between as he was, he was gorgeous. Her angel. A completely bare towering figure with the chest and leg and back and ass seemingly having been sculpted from the highest quality marble by da Vinci himself, with cheekbones that could reduce adamantine diamonds to dust, with lustrous hair and sinfully plump and pillowy lips. His eyes, so soulful that she believed he had lived a thousand lifetimes, she realized she’d been drawing this face for as long as she could remember. To feel his touch was to experience euphoria. He kissed her and all her senses were expanded beyond human potential, she saw a kaleidoscope of colors behind her eyes, he smelled and tasted of every single enticing thing at once but instead of a riotous discord of scents and flavors, they were balanced in perfect harmony. His voice alone could reduce her bones to jelly in a way that would make Ivar fear she intended to stake a claim to his epithet. He worshiped her with his entire being, fingers and hands and tongue and colossal endowment yes, but in the midst of their lovemaking she was certain that their spirits were melding even more intensely than their bodies. He spat upon her face one and she felt as though she were being anointed in holy oil by a deity. He scored her flesh with his sharp straight teeth the color of shining bone, drew blood, and she was happy to give it. His enormous hand encircled her throat closed her airway and if she hadn’t already been experiencing what she thought might be Nirvana, the oxygen deprivation would’ve taken her there. After fucking her through more than 20 orgasms and claiming all her orifices for his own each first with the gentle fervor of a virginal lover at the end of an idyllic courtship and then with a harsh brutality as though fucking her two within an inch of her life was the only way he could properly express the hatred for her that filled his entire alien being. He finally unburdened himself of his seed deep inside her and sighed contentedly .

When she awoke after their tryst, he was seated in a chair opposite her bed dressed in a suit and other finery looking for all the world like a high-powered professional instead of some cosmic entity to take an interest in her. He then told her of the tragedy of Henry Deaver, how a Titanic battle with his wife over his infidelity with a young woman he had met at a business engagement led to him driving fueled by rage and sadness while rain pounded the car and obscured his vision, he’d crashed into the lake and been thrown into a myriad of alternate realities, “other heres and nows where the dominos fell in different patterns. His stories of lives spent with Charlotte, Oliver, Westly, as a professor, a soldier from West Virginia, a bounty hunter who fought for his life in a dystopia, the life he’d almost lived of a Viking, a philanderer with a beer-based pick-up strategy, a gangster, the searching for true love based on a scientific assessment ,they all brought tears to her eyes. He entreated her with every fiber of his being to free him from his cage and put an end to his cycle of loneliness, to save him and others trapped in this limbo. She swore to do it.

That was the day the matriarch without a clan descended on the prison, her chariot of choice, a limousine flanked by a motorcade of four SUVs each bearing the insignia of an elite private security firm denigrated the world over for unsavory activities, their detractors though couldn’t question their effectiveness. She and the battalion she paid for advanced through the prison like a storm, the guards normally employed were deferential and out of their depth. The only sounds echoing through the prison with a click of her heels and the thuds of the jackboots that accompanied her for she had brought silence to the prison with her mere presence. Moira had heard of her, the interim controller of a ludicrously wealthy and secretive biotech firm following the scandalous disappearance of her son and heir. Allegedly, the young man whom the newspapers referred to as the Brat Prince had somehow veered off the course of normally accepted philandering ways among the ultrarich and powerful and become involved with someone his mother deemed unacceptable. The matriarch had come because the vast network of informants that she plied with riches and sharp promises had imparted to her knowledge of a prisoner found here who almost matched her son’s description. The only thing he had left behind was a wheelchair covered in the blood of its owner, a crippled faggot whom he had dared to take for a lover. He would pay for his insolence, for the damage down to her reputation and company, she would break this mysterious prisoner and learn all that he knew, she swore it. When she reached his unusual cell a young woman in scrubs was fumbling with the keys, her son’s face taken on a different path through destiny than the one she knew stared back at her. He spoke to her in an antiquated dialect of that language from the Balkans she had left behind so many mortal lifetimes ago, she was not that frightened, trusting girl from Wallachia anymore, she nearly charged the cage to make him pay for daring to address her this way, but the meaning of his words stilled her. “Madame Olivia, I believe we can be of help to one another once this insect has served its purpose.” Moria broke the lock.

He nuzzled into her touch aching a contented sound as she ran her hands through his hair, it had been eons since he felt the touch of another, his eyelashes fluttered and tears swam in his eyes, he would allow himself this one indulgence. “Loyal Moria, you have played your part well and in appreciation I give you the greatest of gifts, the fulfillment of your destiny.” When he spoke it was with the voice of 100 different people at once both cacophonous and whisper quiet. She screamed as his lips brushed her forehead, for this feather-light touch broke everything inside of her all at once. She fell as her skin froze and burned all at once, her muscles liquefied and her bones turned to jelly, her ears, nose, and eyes ran with blood, then her eyes began to boil in their sockets fluids running down into her still shrieking mouth as her body contorted it this way and that trying desperately to contend with suffering that was beyond human comprehension.

The last thing she saw before death mercifully claimed her were a pair of unveiled eyes atop bloodless lips, her final sight was one she had been drawing her entire life.

As the wretch finally had the good sense to expire Olivia Godfrey watched as the death seemed to fill out the prisoner’s gaunt and wan features until she could almost confuse him for an older version of her son. He drew in a deep breath, stooped to kiss her hand and issued a request, eyes glittering with dark promise: “Take me to Derry.”

[bisluthq]

Hello! So, I am a two muse theory doubter (yes read realistic Kay too a couple of times). Like, I want to believe. I have even tried to force it in my mind but it doesn’t take. The reason is - TMT fails to consider the fluctuations of emotional highs, lows, love and lust over the initial 2 year period of a relationship. Like, I am a semi profesh song writer with a muse. The variety of POV I write from are extensive. Life is an emotional pendulum and our experiences make it swing. On any given day, our perspectives and emotions can complete change for a given moment towards a muse. I can love my muse for the rest of my life but hate them with the same passion on any given day, go to my piano and write it into a song and feel indifferent to it later (the good and bad end up in songs). When I listen to Rep, it’s range of intensities I easily apply to my one muse. Taylor herself saying Dress, Delicate, CIWYW & NYD her true story on the album reads like she is just pointing to her average daily experiences with 1 muse. If Delicate is Joe & Dress is Karlie - Taylor separated her finding “love amongst the chaos” into loving two people in her true story. If you actually timeline those particular songs it’s Dress (a lustful hook up), to Delicate (wanting to make it official), CIWYW (the pressure of making it official) and NYD (the challenge of commitment). Unless “Dress” leads her to “Delicate”, why include it at all in her true love story line up? Like, was it a last minute attempt to hetsplain that song years after it came out?🤷‍♀️ by her including NYD in her true love story of Rep, it ties via the ‘squeeze my hand three times in taxi’ lines to cruel summers crying in the backseat lines (which is also the circumstantial vibe of CIWYW). The backseat crying lines of Cruel Summer ties to the Cornelia Street vibe (which Taylor writes later as a reflection of the whatever happened after the Delicate moment) which ties back to Delicate via the bar lines and forward later in time to Gold Rush via the creaks / wooden in the floor lines. I mean, all this says to me there is 1 muse of her true story - which could be Joe (but that cancels out the sapphic nature of dress) or Karlie (which means this illicit affair on joshy-boy really did happen somewhere between 100 and a million times). Tbh, I tend to believe the later. So you’ll be like okay what about LSS, Invisable String then fruitcake? (Fair call future sleuth haha). Or what about babygate and joshlie marriage?! Like, wbk that affair was at least long and messy AF. Folklore and Evermore were written last year and Lover period was fairly chaotic and clunky at best (presumably because of masters heist). Like, they MUST have broken up (FG, DBATC, Daylight, The 1, Cardigan saga, TIMT, Hoax, Peace, Exile, Coney Is, Evermore, RWYLM, CP, Happiness, TTDS). Like, they all have 1 muse energy of losing someone you love through messiness (could be joe🤷‍♀️ we’ll never know for sure). But many of these songs refer to a third person being involved which screams Joshlie to me because of ivy, illicit affair, the bitterness of “The Man”. Baby, you say? Like it’s pretty simple - Karlie went back to Josh, married him and had a baby and Taylor’s like “uhh, what a fucking joke” and processed it last year through writing two albums about it all. Invisable string, LSS - like these are both songs which come from a POV of self-reflection after hope is lost. Maybe reunited after preggo-gate? Maybe consolidated love after break up into friendship aka Dorothea? WB - quite simply - WB is the model to which Taylor writes about whatever she wants to (triangulation of desire). Good for her, great writing strategy. Is it a strategy needed? Well ya, but only if it’s born of having 1 muse and a very obvious story Taylor is trying to obscure. Like, come at me sleuth cuz I reallllly want to believe in two muse story. I wouldn’t even had bothered writing this if I didn’t. What am I missing?

Hey Sim here. So Nat broke protocol and sent me this one to answer because I too am a writer and I too at one point reached that point in the lyric analysis where I literally could not fathom any timeline I was hearing that made sense due to the connections in the lyrics between Reputation and Lover. I have a whole spreadsheet called “Car Bar Roof” where I’m just trying to make sense of a series of events through lyrics alone and I nearly drove myself crazy doing it.

With that being said, I want to give a disclaimer: Nothing wrong with you interpreting things your own way! I know Nat can come off kind of brash sometimes, but both of us are always hyper-aware that we are discussing what essentially amounts to a “Taylor Swift Is Gay” conspiracy theory and because it’s a conspiracy theory and we don’t know these people, no analysis is ever going to be 100% correct. If you don’t hear two muses on Rep, that’s totally fine! I’m sure we have some Toe/Swiftwyn readers who would agree with you there!

I do want to caution against relying entirely on lyric parallels to create a timeline, however. You’re going to dig yourself into a rabbithole that’s very hard to get out of. I think a lot of people don’t realize that Taylor has been using a lot of metaphors (especially the car and the bar) her entire career. It ends up being a big stretch to assume that just because two events in two different songs both take place in a car or a bar, Taylor is talking about the exact same moments. Like, let’s be real, how many times have any of us ever been in a car? Wouldn’t it be kind of ridiculous for a critic of our work to assume everything we write involving a car is about the same specific time we were in a car?

It is also incredibly easy to construct false narratives when you rely only on song analysis. I’ll give you an example using Taylor’s first high school boyfriend, Drew. Whether you believe it or not, he’s often cited as the inspiration for Tim McGraw. The song Tim McGraw has a variety of common themes with Taylor’s other work, the main ones being summer, dancing, the moon, a little black dress, a truck, a creek/river, and going back to school. If we follow song parallel logic, I could connect Tim McGraw to folkmore songs and, because of this, could say Taylor is still dating/writing about Drew from high school.

The little black dress in Tim McGraw is also mentioned in unreleased Live for the Little Things and The Other Side of the Door. In both Tim McGraw and Live for the Little Things, Taylor mentions a black dress and dances with her lover under the moon. A summer love that ends with going back to school can also be found in August, and Cruel Summer and August are very similar songs, in that both are about a summer love that can’t last and isn’t being taken as seriously by one person as another. The Other Side of the Door is almost the exact same premise of an ex at your doorway as I Almost Do, Dark Blue Tennessee, All You Had to Do Was Stay, and exile, meaning all those songs must be connected as well. Dancing with someone in the middle of the night can also be found in Everything Has Changed, 22, and Dancing With Our Hands Tied. As a bonus, trucks and dancing are also mentioned in Champagne Problems, which connects to Gold Rush, So It Goes, and Dancing With Our Hands tied through the use of the color Gold. So It Goes also mentions wearing black and meeting someone in the middle of the night. So all those songs have to be about Drew as well.

So here’s the narrative that makes: Taylor and Drew dated over a summer then broke up when he went back to school but at some point he came back to her door and they got back together. They mostly hung out in the middle of the night, driving around and dancing. Unfortunately, when he proposed, Taylor couldn’t say yes, and literally left him stranded on the dance floor and is now #foreveralone and writing folkmore to process these events.

To be clear, I don’t actually believe any of this. I don’t think anyone else does either, but since neither Taylor nor Drew have publicly interacted in over a decade, this can be easily disproved, despite the “obvious” way the songs connect. Taylor just likes certain themes. Cars and bars. Nature. The contrast of light and dark. Sparks and fire. I guarantee if you go over her unreleased songs and first two albums with the same fine tooth comb you’ve gone over Folkmore/Lover/Reputation/1989 with, you’ll find just as many lyric parallels, and it’s not because she’s only writing about one person.

Occams Razor tells me Kaylor’s not on good terms anymore. It also tells me Karlie and Josh are actually having a child together. From the outside, it looks like things have been bad since at least the Masters Heist, if not before, and the more digging we’ve done, the more evidence we find of that. Now, you don’t have to believe that if you don’t want to! As long as you don’t go around harassing people we’ve got no beef with you. Just know you’re always going to find song parallels to back up whatever you want because Taylor’s such a prolific songwriter who loves to use the same themes again and again. That’s just deductive reasoning, baby. Thanks for the discourse though! LMK if you wanna chat song analysis sometime!

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 302: As the Todoroki Turns

Previously on BnHA: 

Today on BnHA: We have a very fun chapter in which (1) Shouto grows up lonely on account of his parents being worried that his siblings will literally try to kill him, (2) Natsu and Fuyu grow up neglected on account of not being special and/or self-destructive enough to attract attention, (3) we get to revisit all of that exciting spousal abuse from chapter 39, and (4) Touya burns to death right on cue, pretty much exactly like we expected it to happen. Thankfully since this is a shounen manga, Horikoshi finds some hope in all this misery as the Todoroki family rallies together, with Shouto getting his long-overdue credit for being a perfect sweet angel who put up with all of this shit for sixteen years and somehow came out of it strong and kind and empathetic and determined. Anyway, so that flashback was a barrel of laughs. But now that it’s over, we can put all of that angst behind us, and move on to... well I guess, probably, more angst. Look, we’re short on variety at the moment. Bear with it.

ouch. we knew this was coming, but still

A+ parenting move there. “ho boy, our eldest just tried to murder our youngest, now what? hmm how about we isolate our youngest from all human contact”

though in their defense, we probably shouldn’t have expected this rabidly strength-obsessed fire man and his wife who was groomed since childhood to obey her family’s whims to have any idea of how to raise stable, well-adjusted offspring

SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS

this is a perfect example of Enji’s tragically self-revolving viewpoint right here. just because being a hero is your entire world doesn’t mean you can just excuse yourself from anything outside of that and act like it’s out of your control. “alas, all I care about is hero stuff and my son can’t be a hero, we are doomed to inhabit two different worlds” no you jackass, it’s called having more than one hobby?? figuring out how to spend some time with your son that doesn’t involve training?? the same exact thing you were telling him to do last week, while ignoring that you’ve never done that yourself in your life??

that said, yet again we have that complexity though because it’s obvious that Enji at least on some level is aware of his own flaws, even though he seems unwilling or unable to confront them. honestly, from what we’ve seen so far, Enji’s obsession with surpassing All Might might be more accurately called an addiction. he literally can’t let go of it even though he’s fully aware of how it’s slowly destroying his life. and so in the same way that a lifelong smoker or alcoholic might tell their child to stay away from cigarettes and booze, Enji tells Touya not to follow down the same path as him, even though he himself doesn’t know how to leave that path. so yes, it’s hypocritical as fuck, but there’s also an element of helplessness there as well because Enji literally doesn’t know how not to be like this

though all the same he sure could stand to put in more than just a token effort. but it is what it is, and we already know how much he’ll come to regret it

and meanwhile Baby Shouto has frozen his sleep bubble with his quirk lmao. so I guess his quirk did come in early. that’s a recipe for chaos right there

once again Shouto is ruining every single dramatic panel in this flashback

this was so dark and intense... and then I spotted the lil bubs in the corner. Horikoshi please control yourself

“some hero you are, running away” and then all of a sudden, “FIVE YEARS LATER” lol what. OKAY THEN

(ETA: love the confirmation that eight-year-old Natsu comes from the Iida school of puberty and is basically a fully grown man, and meanwhile Touya comes from the hobbit school of puberty and has been perpetually eight for the past five years.)

“HEY BIG BRO WANNA COME RECREATE AN ICONIC FLASHBACK SCENE WITH US. WE’VE GOT THE SOCCER BALL RIGHT HERE, BUT HURRY UP OR WE’LL BE TOO LATE FOR SHOUTO TO WALK ON BY AND STOP TO LOOK”

lol and that’s literally the next three panels. but Horikoshi did add this extra bit after Endeavor starts to drag Shouto away

seriously Enji what the hell did you expect was going to happen here. “Touya went nuts and tried to kill his little brother out of jealousy, so let’s make it clearer than ever that Shouto is the important child and all the other children are just rejects. this will definitely not make the problem 100x worse, and will surely lead to Touya giving up and living a happy life, having been emotionally abandoned by the person he admired more than anyone.” good for you pal you figured it all out. no need for that plan b, “we all just go to therapy”

anyway so he’s telling Shouto he can’t play because he needs more endurance training. and meanwhile Touya’s patented Todoroki Drama Genes are going through puberty as well

definitely the face of a happy, emotionally stable child who’s not still plotting to murder his younger brother in his sleep

“WELL ACTUALLY MAKESTE” lol I stand corrected??

apparently during the five year interim Touya actually stopped blaming Shouto and realized Enji was the one at fault. good for him! a bit inconsistent, given what we know happens later, but I assume we’ll get to that in good time

anyway. “yeah man I agree that dad sucks, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m only eight and you’ve been monologuing for the past two hours bro”

LMAO

the manga is making my jokes for me, only better. fine then

looks like someone’s still miffed about that disagreement he had with his baby sister back when she was like four

“Fuyu doesn’t get properly riled up like I want her to so ranting to her is annoying.” okay but having been in Fuyu’s shoes, it really is just a different way of coping, and I can guarantee she’s not as fine with the whole situation as Touya might think. but making your peace with something is often a decision that’s made for emotional self-preservation reasons. and I sure as hell don’t fault her for trying to shut out a situation that she had no control over, and trying to make the best of it, and scrape together as normal a childhood as she could manage

and now in Touya’s defense as well, that is of course easier said than done, and I’m sure if there was a “push this button and instantly get over all of the trauma in your life” switch readily available for Touya then he would have pushed it too. unfortunately it’s not always that simple

so now Rei is pleading with Touya not to go train up on his little emo hill again, but it doesn’t seem like much has changed since he was eight

I don’t think he gives two figs about being a hero; he just wants his father to look at him again with pride. fucking hell, stop doing this to me you damn Todorokis

guh, they keep telling him the same thing over and over again

even if we hadn’t already known he was gonna go melt his jawbone off soon, I wouldn’t have expected a line like that to go over well

yep. fuck

that Todoroki puberty angst, though. nothing else quite like it

“you have a part in this too, Mom” ooooooh man

okay but look, he’s not entirely wrong. like, I’m not saying any of this is Rei’s fault at all! she’s in an impossible situation where she’s afraid to stand up to Enji (who by this point has shown that he’s willing to physically attack her if things get too heated, which is terrifying), and doesn’t really have anywhere to turn for support. her parents aren’t helping much if at all, and Japan in general is just a terrible country to be in when you’re in a domestic abuse situation. everyone’s expected to put on a brave face and deal with their problems all on their own in private. Rei is basically completely isolated at this point, and she doesn’t know what else to do, and so she’s just trying to keep the situation as stable as possible for the kids

but on the other hand, “for the kids” is also where that argument starts to break down a bit, because at this point Shouto is also being physically abused by his father, and the other kids are continuing to be neglected (emotionally if not physically), as they have been for years. so the situation really isn’t stable at all for them. and as a kid, what you end up learning in that type of situation is that you can’t rely on either parent. not the abusive one, certainly, but also not the other one who can’t protect you from any of it. even if they love you and they’re trying, they’re just as helpless as you. Rei is struggling to deal with all of this with one hand tied behind her back, and I get it, and I’m not blaming her at all. but all the same, particularly given that she’s (understandably) putting almost all her focus on Shouto, the end result is that the other kids have basically been left to fend for themselves

so yeah! a shitty situation all around. and one of those cases where it’s not really anyone’s fault (aside from Enji’s), but I can understand the resentment Touya is feeling all the same. and I’m so glad Horikoshi is acknowledging this, because it’s something I probably would have been too uncomfortable to bring up otherwise. as it is it’s still an incredibly heavy subject, and one that I probably have too many personal feelings about

anyway, so once again the whole “we’ll try talking to him and then just shrug our shoulders when it doesn’t work” parenting strategy doesn’t really pan out for the Todoroki fam

sob this boy is Anakin Skywalkering before our very eyes. all that’s missing is AFO to come and start whispering in his ear. any minute now...

“anyway so then he got taller and his fire changed from red to blue”

guess we’re getting pretty close then huh. this is the part of the flashback that I really don’t want to see, but also unfortunately the part that I’m most curious about :/

oh for fuck’s --

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IGNORING HIM FOR FIVE YEARS DIDN’T ACTUALLY DO ANYTHING TO SOLVE THE PROBLEM” sob. back to the drawing board I guess

I thought he got taller, why is he still only like a third of Enji’s height here

oh fuck me these are armor-piercing feels. this is the heavy artillery right here

ENJI I’M BEGGING YOU PLEASE STOP AND THINK FOR ONE MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE BEFORE DOING SOMETHING YOU’LL REGRET FOR THE REST OF ALL TIME. your child just told you that he still thinks beating All Might is the only thing you care about, and that he believes his existence is a mistake unless he finds some way of doing that for you. please stop for a moment to contemplate that and choose your next words with care and grace and oh who the hell am I kidding

-- OR WE COULD JUST BLAME REI

go on and blame everyone but yourself then!! that’s a great solution!! jesus christ man I know this is Endeavor at his literal worst but still this is fucking hard to watch

POOR BABY SHOUTO IS YELLING AT HIS DAD NOT TO HIT HIS MOMMY THIS LITTLE BRAVE BOY NEEDS SO MANY HUGS OH MY GOD

AND MEANWHILE THE OTHERS ARE HUDDLED IN THE NEXT ROOM TRYING NOT TO CRY AH FUCK

(ETA: Fuyu covering Natsu’s ears cuts RIGHT TO THE CORE OF ME. Horikoshi if you’re really not gonna get these kids some therapy then at least consider giving your readers some. what is this.)

you know it’s bad when you’re starting to think the part where the kid burns to death might actually be a less traumatic thing to cut to right now

holy shit, actual Rei thoughts

“I was the one who ultimately made that choice” well there we go, wonder if that’ll put that whole argument to bed at last. I doubt it, but you never know. actually who am I kidding it’s not gonna settle jack shit lol

oh thank god, they decided it was getting too intense and cut away back to the present to narrate this next (final?) part

get ready to cue up that Alicia Keys. THIS BOY IS ON FIREEEEEEE

yeah I think that’s one thing we can mostly all agree on. neither of them had any clue what the fuck they were doing pretty much at any point. though I will say that the hypocrisy of him being all “WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM” followed by him IMMEDIATELY DOING THE EXACT SAME THING is a bit rich

(ETA: and he still has this problem, doesn’t he? he froze up when Ending snatched Natsuo, and again when Dabi was attacking Shouto. he’s so afraid of doing the wrong thing that he ends up not doing anything, which of course is exactly what led to Touya’s death. damn Enji I guess you’ve still got some additional character development to unlock.)

and of course neither of them could possibly have known how badly it was going to turn out. like, the consequences here were WAY disproportionate even for the shittiest of parenting. no one expects “I didn’t know how to talk to my son” to snowball into “my son burned to death and then somehow came back as a villain and murdered thirty people”

ohhhhhhhh fuck me

LITERALLY INCINERATED THE ENTIRE HILLSIDE. fuck. and I am so not ready for the scene of Enji finding the remains of his jawbone afterwards. at least we were spared anything super-graphic (for now at least)

I feel like the timeline here is off, btw?? wasn’t Touya’s death supposed to happen after Rei got hospitalized? this might be the first actual retcon of the entire flashback. although I think it makes more sense this way tbh

I do appreciate that ten years later Enji is finally reflecting on the fact that if he’d just given up his stupid obsession he could have stopped his family from crumbling apart. that probably sounds sarcastic as fuck, but it’s not. there are countless jerks out there who would have still managed to find a way to blame literally everyone and everything under the sun except for themselves. at least he finally figured out how to take responsibility, even if it came too late to stop his son from dying and being radicalized into a villain terrorist organization

and speaking of, it seems to me we’re missing a third and final part to this little tale of woe, and one which only Touya himself will be able to shed any light on. so we’ll see how that goes

oh man seeing the other kids blaming themselves even though none of it was their fault hits hard af. Rei wasn’t kidding when she said they’d been bearing that burden of guilt far longer than Enji

SHOUTO I SWEAR TO GOD IF THE NEXT PANEL IS YOU APOLOGIZING FOR BEING BORN, I WILL... WELL I’LL BE VERY SAD, I GUESS. SO DON’T DO IT

oh good he’s just being quiet. good. it absolutely is not your fault lil bean. it’s not theirs either, but feeling guilty about things that aren’t your fault is a time-honored shounen tradition

goddammit I braced myself for the angsty Shouto panel a page too early. gotta do it all over again now lol. okay here goes

;_;

well well well would you look at that

imagine that. talking things out with your child before they make a rash decision. looks like the Todorokis’ parenting skills are finally leveling up

OH MY GOD

holy shit. this is the most quintessential moment of father/son Todoroki bonding in the entire series. for me it even tops the “nice scar” scene lol. Enji sobbing at the fact that he still has a chance to set things right. and Shouto offering his hand in what is actually the most mature and selfless gesture I’ve ever seen, and being all “we’ll stop him together” to his dad who he hates, but also doesn’t really entirely hate anymore. and all of that is incredibly moving... BUT ALSO HE STILL REFUSES TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HIM AND HE WOULD LIKE HIM TO STOP BEING SO FUCKING DRAMATIC ALREADY IF YOU DON’T MIND. “WHEN YOU’RE DONE CRYING...” fkjldsk

OH MY FUCKING LORD

(ETA: wouldn’t be a Todoroki drama fest if there wasn’t somebody listening in on the whole thing in secret just around the corner lmao.)

“you think we should have waited somewhere else?” “yeah, probably.” “are you feeling a lot of secondhand embarrassment too?” “god, you have no idea.” STFU HAWKS IT’S NOT EMBARASSING TO BE MOVED TO TEARS BY YOUR FAMILY ALL COMING TOGETHER IN YOUR DARKEST HOUR TO GIVE YOU HOPE THAT YOU PROBABLY DON’T DESERVE BUT ARE NONETHELESS INDESCRIBABLY GRATEFUL FOR

and anyway you chose these guys as your found family, bucko. too late to back out now. next time go get yourself adopted by the Iidas then

AND MEANWHILE NO WORD ON THE WHOLE “HOW DID A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SURVIVE A FIRE THAT COVERED HIS BODY WITH HORRIFIC SCARS AND MELTED HIS JAW OFF, AND HOW DID HE SOMEHOW THEN MANAGE TO GO INTO HIDING FOR TEN WHOLE YEARS, AND WHAT HAPPENED IN THAT INTERIM TO CHANGE HIS GOAL FROM ‘SURPASS ALL MIGHT TO IMPRESS MY DAD’ TO ‘KILL ALL HEROES TO MAKE MY DAD SUFFER’.” as if we don’t know the answer to that. but still, would it kill Horikoshi to just confirm AFO’s involvement in all of this already. at this point it’s basically just a formality

so here’s hoping next week we’ll either get that, or more Hawks action, or (DARE I EVEN SUGGEST, I’M AFRAID TO JINX IT) finally cut back to Bakugou and Deku and All Might omg. either way I’m hyped

[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 25

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.1k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: honestly i know this is a boring chapter and im sorry about it.

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : none for this chapter im sorry! i sorta needed her to come back first and... yea. keep sending them tho!

Chapter 25 : His chapter

NIALL

She didn't answer anything. I waited for hours and she didn't dare even answer anything about the video I sent her. I wish she would have at least acknowledged it. I would have been fine with a heart emoji even if I would have preferred a comment about how much she loved and missed me. But she sent nothing and it was worse than anything she could have answered.

I kept thinking about her and Dylan and it was driving me insane. In fact, I couldn't stop thinking about her on top of him, riding him and moaning his name. It was obsessing me to the point where I just wanted to take a plane to her and bring her back home with me.

I tried calling her in the afternoon but she didn't answer and although I was trying to convince myself that she was probably sleeping, I knew that it was not late enough for her to be asleep, even with the jetlag.

I waited almost 24 hours to hear from her and when my phone rang, I realized someone was trying to facetime me. I saw her face on the screen and my heart jumped so high in my chest I thought I was about to vomit it. I almost dropped my phone on my face and stopped moving before breathing in and out for a few seconds. I finally answered and my lips curled when I saw her face. Her hair was a mess, she had dark circles under her eyes and she looked exhausted.

"Hey darling, what time is it in Italy?"

She raised her nose up and groaned low. "Fuck, did I wake you up? I'm so sorry." she apologized with a grimace. "It's four in the morning here."

"No, it's okay, it's 7 pm here." I tried to reassure her and chuckled. "Actually, I didn't sleep much last night."

She frowned and tilted her head but I hesitated to tell her how I felt. I let my eyes roam on her face for a few seconds and finally sighed. I had been worried about her and clearly, I had the right to. Of course, there was more than that. I had also been scared of what she was doing, and perhaps a bit jealous, but I didn't have to mention that.

"You're already in bed?" she asked with a small smile.

"Yea, I tried to read a bit, and watch tv, but I ended up just writing a few song lyrics." I explained with a shrug.

"Are you alright?"

"Liv, you haven't given me any news since you left. I messaged you, and I tried calling, but you didn't answer." I pointed out a bit louder. "Look, I was worried, okay."

Her traits softened and she looked at me with a guilty expression.

"I'm so sorry, Niall, you're right. I've been super busy. The auditions ended late, and we have more tomorrow and an interview. After the auditions we had a meeting that lasted like 3 hours. I'm super tired. You're right though, I should have taken a few minutes to call or at least message you. Please, forgive me."

I licked my lips and sighed low. "You're okay, that's all that matters. Did you get my video?"

This time, her face completely changed and the smile she sent me was so loving, fond and soft that I couldn't help but smile too. She pressed her lips together and all I could think about was kissing her.

"I did. I had just landed and I was at the airport still." she admitted in a low voice. "I was crying and a guard came to check on me."

She let out a short embarrassed chuckle and I smiled more, raising my eyebrows. "You cried?"

Her face became more serious but her gaze was still soft. "Yes. I love you, Niall. I love you so much. I almost took a plane back to you after seeing that. I just..." she shook her head and glanced away before looking back at me. "I wish  I could have stayed with you. I wish I could be with you right now."

"Me too." I replied with a smile as she leaned against the headboard of the bed, making me frown. "Hey, where are you right now?"

She looked around herself for a few seconds and looked back in my eyes again.

"Hotel room." she shrugged, making me frown more.

"I thought you'd be at your boyfriend's apartment." I admitted blatantly, making her face change suddenly. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm good, don't worry. He's still filming and this hotel is closer to where I have to be tomorrow." she grimaced but I could feel something was wrong. "I have to be up in six hours. I'm even lucky they let me wake up so late."

I pushed away all the thoughts and questions in my head to focus on her and the time we had together instead. Of course, I was curious, but at the same time, I was not sure I wanted to know. Her marriage and her boyfriend were touchy subjects, for me but also for her, I could feel it every time one of us would mention something, and I was not in the mood to talk about that. If she wanted to discuss anything with me, though, I knew she would.

"I don't really want to hang up." I admitted with a small smile. "When are you coming back home?"

"I tried to get a flight for tomorrow night, but I got one in the middle of the night." she explained, surprising me but making her smile grow. "I just can't wait."

I remained silent for a few seconds, wondering why she was coming back so fast instead to spend time with Dylan, but I decided not to ask. It was stupid, but I didn't want to give her the idea to stay longer, and I also didn't want her to think I didn't care that she'd spend time with him. If I wanted to be honest, I also really wanted her to come back so I just smiled more.

"I think you should drop by my place, first."

She laughed this time, closing her eyes and leaning her head on the headboard as her nose raised up. It made me chuckle to see her laugh so honestly and when her eyes fluttered open, she was smirking.

"And why exactly?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "You could get naked and join me in bed. What time are you supposed to land?"

"Five in the morning." she explained with a sigh.

"Do you want me to pick you up?" I proposed, moving on my bed to lean on my pillows better.

"Naa, you don't want an other article about us, do you?" she pointed out, raising her nose up again. "I'll take a cab and give your address."

I wanted to tell her that articles about us didn't bother me and somehow, at that exact moment, it wouldn't have been a lie, but in general, yea, I hated paps and how they'd always write bullshit just to sell and get clicks.

"And then?"

"And then get naked and join you in bed." she replied with a smirk, using my own words. "You know, just thinking about it makes me horny." she added in a low tone. "And you being almost naked right now doesn't help."

I boomed out with laughter and a smirk appeared on my lips. It felt so natural to have that kind of discussion with her even if we had been separated for so long. I watched as her eyes dropped to my chest and shook my head.

"You're literally eyeing me right now, and you're not even trying to hide it." I pointed out, trying to keep my laughter in. "And you're wearing too much clothes for me to do the same."

"Mm, well, it's not my fault you're not wearing a shirt." she pointed out, not even looking in my eyes. "If you could just... move your phone a bit."

"Such a horny girl."

It made me think of that time when we were dating and I was gone in Asia with my cousins. It was the first and only time we had facetime sex and just thinking about it made my heart jump in my chest. I wanted to do it again, tell her what to do and when to do it, watch her touch herself and cum while she moaned my name.. but I knew she was tired and I didn't want to insist too much.

"Do you remember when-"

"Oh yea, oh yea I remember." she cut me, making me raise my eyebrows. "When you ran out of that bar and got back to that tiny disgusting and dark room just so we could masturbate together on the phone. I fucking remember, Niall. You made me start touching myself in the car."

"If I was there right now, I'd touch you and do all the job. You'd have nothing to do. I'd just make you cum and then you could fall asleep."

"Mm, I wish you would be here right now, then." she admitted with a yawn, squirming to lay down in bed as I chuckled and rolled my eyes. "Especially that you promised me your tongue and lips between my legs. Do you know how many times I thought about it? Mm, no one tongue fucks me like you."

I laughed again. "Oh god, you've got such a filthy mouth."

"Me? More like you." she laughed too, closing her eyes. "You're gonna eat me out good next time we see each other, yea?"

"I fucking promise." I guaranteed, bringing my hand to my cock and brushing it over my boxers. "I'll make you scream."

I watched her almost fall asleep and smiled a bit but after a few seconds, I felt the words escape my lips.

"Before we hang up, petal, can you show me your tits?"

Her eyes fluttered open and she let out a short but silent laugh. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" she shook her head. "I sent you a picture of my boobs already, don't you have it anymore?"

"Of course I do! It's my phone's background!" I joked, watching her face change into terror and making me laugh. "Babe relax, I'm joking! It's just even better when it's live."

"I'm ready to give you five seconds of seeing my boobs but in exchange, I want you to stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep."

My traits softened and I sent her a small smile. I would have agreed with that against nothing at all, just because I loved the fact that she felt safe with me, and because I missed her.

"Mm, okay, five seconds of seeing them, and five more while you touch them."

She chuckled and shook her head before putting her phone away. All I could see was the ceiling for a few seconds but when she put her phone back, she had taken her shirt off and was now laying under the sheets. My eyes quickly found her breasts and my lips curled slightly.

"Is it cold there?" I asked, amused.

"It is, you little fucker."

I laughed again and she finally moved her phone up, making me groan. "You promised me five more of touching them."

"I'm touching them."

"But I can't see!" I argued, making her laugh.

"You didn't specify that."

I groaned and grimaced before using puppy eyes while staring at her. Her eyes were half-closed and I knew she was going to fall asleep soon.  She chuckled and rolled her eyes and I was glad I didn't even have to beg her. She moved her phone farther and I saw her fingers rub gently against her nipples. I was about to ask her to grab her tits harder but she just did it and I let out a short curse word as I gripped the sheets of my bed.

"Fuck you make me so hard." I whispered right before she started giggling like a school girl.

"I remember before we dated, you said you were too old to get hard just by the sight of boobs." she told me. "I guess that's not true anymore, if it ever was."

"Darling, it's not just boobs. It's you, touching and grabbing your boobs, and making all these sexy little sounds, I bet you don't even realize it. Fuck yea, you make me hard. I want to tap my cock on them until it's hard enough to wreck you."

She rubbed her eyes with her free hand and whimpered low before grabbing the blankets of the bed and pulling them over her shoulders. She turned around and leaned the phone on a pillow while grabbing the other one and cuddling it.

"Mm, well, maybe you can do that when I get back." she proposed in a mumble. "You can even do that while I'm sleeping if it turns you on."

“I’ll remember that.” I chuckled and watched her lips part slightly and her eyes close. She looked peaceful but I knew that in less than a minute, she was going to be snoring. "Hey, petal." I whispered.

"Mm?"

"I'm in love with you." I added, seeing the left corner of her lips move up slightly. "Goodnight, darling."

                                                 ---

I woke up horribly early just to be sure I wouldn't miss her interview. She had sent me a link and I just stayed in bed, still half-sleep, thinking that I'd just get a few more hours of sleep when it would be over but when I saw her appear on the screen with a big smile, I felt suddenly completely awake.

I had stayed about fifteen minutes just looking at her the night before while she was sleeping and just like I thought, she had been snoring, her face all pressed on the pillow and even if it had made me smile, it was crazy how endeared I had been. If I was not sure she was the only girl I would ever want to spend my life with already, after that it was impossible to have any doubt left. Of course, I didn't need anything to convince me that we were meant to be, but these simple reminders of how much I loved her and everything she did were good and comforting.

She started answering questions about why she was in Italy, and how the auditions were going, and I couldn't help but think it felt weird to watch my best friend being interviewed on a tv show. It made me realize that it was probably how she felt the first few times she saw me on tv and it felt weird to have the roles reversed for once.

"Did you have time to visit? Or do you plan on doing it later?"

She smiled and it made me smile too. "I didn't really have time and I have a flight back home tonight, so I probably won't have time but it's so beautiful here, at least from what I was able to see from my hotel room windows or from the short drives around." she chuckled. "I will definitely come back to visit. With someone, perhaps."

I grabbed my phone and quickly sent her a text message.

'I'll bring you to Italy to visit. I'll bring you anywhere you want to go.'

I put my phone away and looked as she reached for her pocket and it made me hold my breath. She was not supposed to bring her phone but she had and even worse, it seemed like it was on vibe. I let out a chuckle and shook my head. She was never really the type to follow the rules anyway.

"A few weeks ago there were pictures of Niall Horan and you coming out of a movie theater together and all the rumors about you two dating again appeared online." the man whom's name I forgot asked as Olivia nodded. "Neither of you denied or attested the rumors but you two are talking again which is a big deal. You hadn't been seen together since your break up back in november 2016."

"Uhm, yea well, we both moved to California and we met randomly and... you know, when someone has been your best friend for two decades, it's hard to just.. couper les ponts you know, cut the ties?" she let out, raising her eyebrows. "Niall was part of my every day life, I even went on the last One Direction tour with him, so to cut him from my life du jour au lendemain... it was not easy. It was sudden, and it was tough. For both of us. So yea, we talk again."

"I noticed that you add a lot of french words and expressions when you talk and I know you're from France but you've lived in Ireland most of your life so you know all of this in english."

"Mm, yea but french comes to me very easily. I talk to my parents a lot, especially recently, so I guess I'm just mixing both languages." she admitted with a laugh. "I'm sorry, I know it's bit annoying."

"Endearing." I corrected her in a whisper even if she couldn't hear me.

"No no, not at all." the interviewer argued. "How many seasons did you plan for this show?"

She answered the questions like a champ but I was surprised that there had been no question about her wedding or her boyfriend. They normally like to get into things like that and I thought that maybe she had specified that she didn't want questions about that. However, I would think if that was the case, she would have also told them not to ask her about me and yet, they did, and she didn't seem pissed.

I didn't mind that they asked about me much and her answer was great. I had never stopped myself from mentioning my friends in interviews when people asked, I just didn't like talking about who I was dating or who my songs were about specifically. After all, when people ask questions about that, they just want to know who you're shagging, and my sex life, along with my romantic one, was no one's business.

The tv show lasted about ten more minutes and a few minutes after it ended, I heard my phone and grabbed it, smiling again when I realized that the first thing she did was answer my text.

'The truth is, Niall, that I'll follow you anywhere you want to go. Whether it's Italy, space, or that big ass couch of yours. Lead me. I'm right behind.'

                                                          ---

We spend the afternoon texting each other back and forth and I knew she would be in deep shit if anyone realized she was distracted. It was still an audition afternoon and evening for her and she had mentioned that she wouldn't be able to sleep before getting on the plane, which would mean she would most likely be exhausted when she'd get back. Sleeping on a plane was never nice or reviving, and I knew what I was talking about.

As I was waiting for her answer, I started checking online to see if there were comments about her interview or if there were new pictures of her that had appeared online. The first article that popped, however, was about her boyfriend, and I almost skipped it until I read the title. I scrolled back up and clicked on it only to see a picture of Dylan appear. He was with some girl I didn't know and they were dangerously close to each other. Of course, it was just a picture, and it wouldn't be the first time paps would fool us into believing crap. Sometimes, just the angle of the picture could make you believe things and I was hoping this picture was no exception. I stared at it for a few seconds before reading parts of the articles and grimacing. I couldn't just send that to Olivia and ruin her trip and I just decided to ignore it. Perhaps I could tell her later, when she'd be back, but I still was not sure.

I jumped when I got her reply but smiled quickly when I realized it was a selfie. She had her tongue out, her nose up in a grimace, and was literally doing the 'rock and roll' sign with her fingers. The caption said 'I'm coming home babey!' and I started laughing. I put my phone away and took a selfie as I was laying on the couch and just wrote 'I'm waiting for you' before quickly sending her.

She arrived in the middle of the night. At first, I was not sure what had woken me up and I just groaned and squirmed in bed, grabbing a pillow and pulling it close to me, my arms tight around it, but I heard an other thud and forced myself to open my eyes. It only took half a minute to see a shadow walk in my room and I stared at her as I saw her take her shirt and pants off quickly. I moved in bed to give her space and let out a short groan.

"I missed you, pet."

She moved closer and pressed her cold body against mine, my lips curling more when I realized she was completely naked and I suddenly regretted keeping my boxers on.

"How was your flight?"

"Mm, long and loveless." she complained, making me chuckle low.

I brought my lips to hers and kissed her gently before brushing them down her neck as my arm wrapped around her and pulled her closer.

"I'll give you love, angel." I whispered, running my hand on her back, feeling her soft but cold skin.

"What kind?" she just asked with a chuckle.

"Cuddles and caresses for now." I replied in a murmur. "Sweet sex in the morning."

"You know exactly what I want, at all times, don't you?" she replied just as low, making me smile as I kept my eyes closed.

She smelled good despite spending 13 hours on a plane and I wondered how it was even possible. I wanted to ask her if she had stopped at her place first or if she at least had spent some time in the bathroom to clean but I was too tired and I just kissed her shoulder before laying my head on the pillow again.

"Don't leave again, okay?." I muttered randomly. "Losing you is not an option."

She wasn't answering and with all the strength I still had, I once again forced my eyes open only to meet hers. She was sending me a small smile, her eyes also half-opened, and I smiled back slightly at her with a soft gaze.

"I'm definitely adding that to a song." I pointed out before she could answer, making her laugh.

"I'm not leaving, Niall." she just let out after a few minutes of silence. "I missed you too."

I tried to squeeze her in my arms but failed miserably. I was too tired to be strong but she seemed to appreciate the gesture. She chuckled and kissed my chin, sliding one of her legs between mine. My mind was too numb to think but I breathed in only to smell her again. My whole body was exhausted but I tried to fight slumber just to appreciate having her in my arms again, as if she had been gone for months and not just for literally two days. A bunch of things we had talked about came back to my mind and I just couldn't wait to have an other talk with her.

"You're not right behind me, Olivia." I mumbled with difficulty.

"Mm?"

"Earlier, in a text message, you said you'd follow me anywhere, that you were right behind me." I explained until I felt her fingertips brush along my spine. "You're not behind, you're right next to me. I'm holding your hand. I'm not going to lead you. We'll walk together, make decisions together, we'll take every step together, Olivia. Neither of us is leading or following. We're together."

"The dream team." she whispered before biting her bottom lip.

"The dream team. The only team that matters. You and me. Against the world." I pointed out with a smile before she repeated my words like an echo.

"You and me."

[nctzendreamz]

Crazy, Rich, and They Hate Me :: Finale

Jaehyun finally takes you home, but he forgets to mention that his family is the richest in South Korea.

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  

Part Six  Part Seven  Part Eight  Part Nine

Jaehyun x Reader ft. NCT

Genre: Angst/ Fluff

You and Jasmine had ran to eachother for a lot of things. Boy problems, girl problems, health problems, money problems; any problem. But as you stood infront of her door, the audio of the doorbell making your ears ring even worse. You didn’t want to be here.

This had to have hit too close to home, right? I mean, during your whole friendship it was a running joke that the two of you were the complete opposite, when in reality you were more alike than either of you had wanted.

You knew if you just pulled up, sad attempt to confess what just happened, you wouldn’t be able to open your mouth. You were guaranteed to make up some lie about how his mom officially forbade you to be in a relationship with Jaehyun, so you told her the whole story as you walked to this destination.

Before an hour ago, you felt so pretty. Usually you hated red, but that way Jaehyun’s eyes just couldn’t leave your body made you feel a confidence you hadn’t felt in too long looking so dressed up. You hated him now. You knew it wasn’t his fault. But you did. You never wanted to see him again.

A now familiar sight to you, the door slid open, but the Jasmine you had known all your life wasn’t behind the door. There was nothing but pure sympathy in her eyes, and she opened the door at a slow place. She clearly didn’t know exactly how to react, not that she was supposed to.

“I’m so sorry.” Her voice trembled.

Tears were the only source of communication you could give her.

“I’ve been gone a month, Jangmi. A month!” Minjun screamed, clearly fuming as he paced back and forth around their eerily empty mansion.

Jaehyun hadn’t had such a moment since he was a child. No one in sight except the three of them. No workers running around, ready to do whatever they asked. Not even the smell of dinner from his grandma could be scented. And his dad being here? This couldn’t be real.

“What is that supposed to mean?” His mother argued, staying seated on her velvet loveseat. Her and her son both silently agreed that they couldn’t be near eachother right now. She was on one side of the seat, while Jaehyun had completely rose when she arrived to the scene, unable to look her in the eye.

“I told you that Jaehyun was serious about that girl, didn’t I?”

“Was I supposed to take you seriously? Hm?” She protested loudly, her voice raising in volume with each word. “Why are you yelling at me when you should be yelling at your son!”

“My son?” He scoffed. “You mean our son.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Our son found a woman that he loves. What’s the problem?”

“Did you not just hear what I told you?” She accused. “Her life will completely ruin our reputation. Every single thing the world thinks our son is, will crumble as if it was never there. Why can’t you see that!”

Jaehyun was trying his best to keep up with the heated discussion that echoed through his childhood home. But the only thing at the forefront of his mind was you. A nervous habit he had formed after falling in love with you; his body rocked back and forth, and his fingers couldn’t remove themselves from the grip of his teeth as he thought about all the terrible things that could’ve happened to you in the last hour.

He had never hated himself until today. Why did he bring you here? He should’ve just kept you a secret. He should’ve flew for the festivities, and came back to you tomorrow morning, where your life would still be intact. Your self-esteem would be at its normal level, where all he had to worry about were things that he could fix with his kisses and sweet nothings.

His bloody hands had been wrapped all alone, although in any other situation, his mother would’ve taken care of it. They probably would’ve joked around about his bruises, or something similar. That was the mother he knew. This vile, angry beast that he watched approach his father with sharp fingers wasn’t who he loved.

He didn’t want to be here anymore. Even in the bask of his fathers glory who was clearly fighting for him, couldn’t make him want to be here. His life was over, and not because of your news. It was because he knew; he fucking knew clearer than ever now that he had lost you for good. And it was his fault. All those times he tried to be the good guy, not trying to start any conflict. For the sake of you, and him, and your serenity, but it was doing nothing.

He let this happen, and now he had to pay the price.

He stood up abruptly, the both of his parents stopping their arguing to stare at him. He looked broken. He didn’t need a mirror to see that. He felt it. He felt too many things right now. If he didn’t go into his room right now, he didn’t know what was going to happen.

“Where do you think you’re going!” His mother spat. How bold of her. If anything, she should be begging for his forgiveness, but she couldn’t even stuff her pride.

“Jangmi, let him deal with everything that just happened. Let him breathe.”

“No. He needs to hear what we’re going through simply because of him. You came home expecting good news, but now we’re broken.”

Jaehyun continued to take gentle steps forward, remembering your own techniques for calming down. He never thought things like this worked, and he was correct in this theory.

“Your mother is—

“Mom! I am angry at you! More than angry!” He yelled suddenly, shaking the house. The minute he had to use his diaphragm, the burning of his nose took it as a signal to let the liquid drip from his eyes. “Do you not realize what the fuck you just did to me? Are you really that blind? You ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I let you.” He trailed, looking at his higher power in embarrassment. “I let you.” He giggled through his tears now, looking nothing less of a psychopath. “You, the cousins, Yuna, grandma, everyone here. I let you guys trick me into believing you could be saved. I watched you destroy everything she had going for her when she came here, and I let you.”

“Son...” his father attempted to approach him, but Jaehyun snapped his shoulder away, making him flinch at once.

He wanted to say so many more things. Things that he didn’t mean, just so his mother could feel the hurt that was making his body pulse. But he decided to keep walking, knowing he wouldn’t be stopped this time.

Days had passed, and your phone had been off for the same amount of time. You wanted no parts in seeing any pictures of you and him. You didn’t want to see all of his apologies. You wanted to go home.

“Y/N, you need to eat.” Jasmine would say everyday. Even Heechul, who always had a snarky comment was being extra sweet to you, making you little pastries that were said to soothe you.

You’d always eat just enough to protect yourself from any true damage you could do to your body. You would always feel as if you had to throw up, but it would never actually happen. You knew it was all in your head.

The silk sheets that rested on your body were so uncomfortable right now; more proof that this life wasn’t for you. They were making you so hot.

“Y/N.” Jasmine’s soothing voice whispered into the large space of her many spare bedrooms, one you had happened to choose. You expected her at this time, with a tray of your favorite snacks. But when she appeared infront of you, she was empty handed. “We need to talk.”

You couldn’t deprive her of that. Neither of you had spoken about what you learned, and you truly believed it was because neither of you knew how to approach it. You weren’t ashamed of being adopted, and you hoped she knew that. Your lack of eating, and showering, and good hygiene in general wasnt because your true parents. It was because you knew you and Jaehyun were officially done. And you knew you were probably going to ruin his life, as his mother was just too spiteful. She would probably get the information out just because he was surely fighting your love; even through all of this drama.

Just to make him look bad, she’d do it.

“Do you have any questions?” She questioned awkwardly, fiddling with the rings she never took off. A gift from her new family, she explained.

“No.” Was all you could say, unable to look her in the eye.

“I hope you’re not ashamed. Or see yourself as less than because of what you know. You still have great parent—

“Jas.” You whispered in a purely sincere tone as your eyes filled to the brim with tears, “do you think I looked at you differently because you’re adopted?”

“I just—I know it’s not ideal. And I didn’t come from good parents and I just—“ Her voice cracked, and for the first time in your life, you were watching her cry. Her fighting spirit had her refusing to be in your arms, but you didn’t listen to her silent wishes. You snatched her up just as she had when you were on her doorstep about to have a mental breakdown.

“I have never looked down on you. To be exact, I’ve always looked up to you. I know you had your demons, and things that upset you, but you were always positive. I always wondered how you could be like that. How you could be so damn strong even though you had every right to be pissed off at the world.” You kissed her forehead, hating the way you were mimicking Jaehyun’s every move right now. “I love you, Jas. And so does your family. I hate that you met them later than you wanted, but what do I always say?”

“That everything happens for a reason.” She choked out.

“Exactly.” You took a deep swallow, knowing that was slogan but wanting it to be un-true in your case. You didn’t want this to be what fate wanted. You wanted there to be mistake in that foreign world. A mishap. But as you continued to dwell on your thoughts, you didn’t have positive feelings on it. No optimism.

You woke up the next morning with Jasmine in your bed, her tears still stained on the pillow beside you. Today was your last day before you had to take your flight, but you couldn’t just leave.

You turned your phone on, knowing it had a chance of practically blowing up from all the texts you knew you recieved. They were all from him. Every single one.

Twelve missed calls. A no exaggeration—twenty separate text messages from him. They started off so concerned, begging you to answer the phone. He was explaining that he just needed to hear you voice to make sure it was actually you responding to him.

As you continued to read, he told you that his father was here, and that he finally told his mom off. He confessed that even so, he felt no better, because he was weak. He didn’t say everything he wanted to say, and he wanted to go back in time to say everything over, better.

He then went on to tell you how much he loved you. He seemed to be arguing with himself, as he kept mentioning that he wasn’t enough. That it was he who didn’t deserve you, and he hated how terrible he was with words. He was trying to fit all of his love for you in a text message, and believed he was failing.

Even as the days skipped, he updated you about his day. He said he wouldn’t eat until he wanted to, which was never. His apologies were never ending, and your heart was close to its end.

He told you he was crying, and couldn’t stop. He told you that he cried so much that he had thrown up, but that he needed it. That it made him feel better for all you had gone through for absolutely no reason.

You couldn’t read any longer, feeling sick to your stomach as you knew he was telling the truth. A man didn’t do all of this for a woman he didn’t love. At least, not a man like Jung Jaehyun.

But love didn’t matter anymore.

You texted her, setting a time and place. She argued, saying that it would be best if you just came to the house.

Unlike every other time you were at the Jung residence, you weren’t dressed up today. Even with the preaching you planned to do in just a few moments, you couldn’t help but to feel so insecure. So less than.

“Y/N.” Was all she said when she let you in. “As you can see, he’s not here. I wasn’t lying.”

“I didn’t think you were.” You whispered, looking at your toes.

She didn’t look good. Now more than ever could you see the resemblance between the two of them. His dimple always shined at you when he was happy, but the exact same one was now moped out, cause being because she had her lips sucked in. It was the kind of expression one wore when they didn’t know what to say.

“So, what did you have to say to me?”

“You know I love Jaehyun, right?”

She was quick to answer. “Yes.” You knew she wasn’t going to miss a beat just yet.

“Do you think Jaehyun loves me?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you fight it so hard? Why wasn’t love enough for you?” Your tone was surprising gentle considering the words you were speaking. You preyed around her home, eyeing all of the artwork you never got to admire because you were always being bullied when you came here. Their family portrait actually read them to be great people.

“Because love isn’t enough. Do you know how many people in the world love eachother? If we married just for love, the world we be in a deeper hell.”

“So you don’t love Mr. Jung?”

“I got lucky.” Her voice waivered. You couldn’t see her facial expression. You didn’t want to look at her just yet.

“Lucky how?”

“Me and Minjun were soulmates who happened to come across eachother. We had love and the resources.”

“So you’re saying that if you didn’t have the resources, you shouldn’t have been able to marry the man you love?”

Her trailing of your moves stopped, as she could finally understand your game. She obviously didn’t like it. “Say what you want to say or get out of my house.”

You turned around from the splash art you were observing deeply, staring straight into her cold eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume she had no soul. But you knew that wasn’t the case. She just didn’t like you.

“This will be the last time you see me.” You confessed, and you saw the way joy sparkled in her eyes. It hurt, even though you should’ve seen it coming. “And I know even right now you’re planning my departure, and trying to figure out who should really be Jaehyun’s bride. Who actually deserves him. Your choice. But never forget, that it was me, a poor girl from Los Angeles that is the reason that you will get your son back.”

She seemed shocked at your strong words. She clearly thought this was a bold claim from the way her eyebrows connected immediately, scoffing in offense.

“You can say what you want about me. And you can say what you want about our relationship, but your son is in love with me. And I know that eats you up inside, but read my lips when I say that we were in love. And we made eachother happy. I will always love him.” Your voice cracked, but you quickly sniffed to pull it together. “So ten years from now when you have little grandchildren running around, making everyone in the house laugh, but Jaehyun’s sitting in the corner and you just can’t seem to understand why he looks so unhappy, know it’s because he’s thinking about me, and about how this could’ve been us if only; you didn’t make me leave.”

“You watch—

“I’m giving you what you want. So I hope your happiness continues to override his own. And I hope that whoever he does marry doesn’t have to go through half the hell I did.”

And with that, you left. Even with her yelling after you. Even when you wanted to badly to turn around, and run upstairs, because you knew he was listening. You knew he heard every word, and would probably go to cry again. But you had to. They got what they wanted. And now you had to sleep. You had a flight in the morning.

You forgot how hot the California sun could be. Especially on a day like this, where you were already in such a horrible mood, nothing felt right. At the same time though, it felt so good to be home. Even though you had only been here for a measly three days, it was so refreshing to not get weird stares and judge mental looks from people who didn’t even know you.

The streets were busy as always, people walking across the road to get to other shopping centers, but your focus was on the familiar diner that now brought you horrible memories.

God, you remember how excited you were when he told you about Johnny’s wedding. It had never even crossed your mind that it would be the last time you saw him, and the last time you would ever call him your boyfriend.

“Y/N! How was the trip!” The owner yelled in an enthusiastic tone, clearly missing your buisness.

“Good.” You responded simply, sitting down at your usual booth.

“Just good? And in that tone? Who died?”

“My relationship.” You chuckled sadly, feeling it all rush back to you at once. All the memories of you two wouldn’t go away.

“Don’t tell me...”

“Yeah.”

You hated that you sounded like this right now. This was exactly how you behaved before you met Jaehyun, and he made you bloom into this so-called beautiful human being. You always shut down.

You couldn’t see what the older man was doing. Out of your peripheral, you could see him whispering to the cook in the back through the tiny window they used to communicate.

Jaehyun hadn’t texted or called since your conversation with his mother. Maybe he hated you too. Everytime your phone would ring, or vibrate, you would rush to it praying it was him. You were so broken. All it would take is one more text, and he could have you back.

Gusto—the owner of your favorite eating place, sat across from you now. He had your favorite milkshake in one hand, and an abundance of fries in the other.

“Thought you might’ve wanted this.”

“Thank you.” You laughed, trying your best to be happy. Or at least look it.

“Listen to me doll,” his hand reached for your chin, lifting it up from its grip on the food. “I don’t know exactly what happened, but I do know that you are a very strong girl. You know, your dad was just like this. When him and your mom would get into it, he’d come in here.”

“Did he really?” You sniffled, being reminded about the problems you had to deal with now. You were still trying to figure out a way to approach your mom about it.

“Yeah. And he would get this exact milkshake too.”

As it had been for the last few minutes, the bell connected to the door rung; indicating someone had swung it open. Probably some teenagers who had just came from the rink.

You put the straw to your lips, knowing that the taste of Oreo mixed in with chocolate would soothe your scrambled mind even if it was for a few. It didn’t feel the same now that Jaehyun wasn’t sharing it with you, but it was still so delicious. You hadn’t even realized that Gusto had risen from his position in front of you.

Your breathing unconsciously got deeper and deeper, trying to take in all the familiar smells of LA. One deep breath, and your heart stopped. You choked on the cookie that was so close to going down your throat.

It was him. He was here.

“Jaehyun—I—

“I know you have a million things you want to say to me.” He whispered. His hair was its usual messy nature, and he was no longer in a polo, or suit as he had been during your whole trip. His grey sweats made your heart beat for a few seconds at a fast pace, but his eyes finished the job.

They weren’t swollen. If you didn’t know any better, you would even say he was happy right now. His eyes were filled with sincerity as his scent hugged you all around.

“Usually people say that when they met their soulmate, they had no idea that they’d love them as much as they did.” He began, taking your hand into his own. “But when I met you, I swear I knew. I called Johnny and told him I had met my wife. He laughed, but I knew it was true. I knew you were the one, Y/N.”

Neither of you could notice, but the crowd began to form, clearly seeing something coming that you couldn’t.

“And still, right now, I look at you and know you’re the one. No matter what anyone says. No matter who tries to stop me from getting what I want, it’ll never happen.” He sighed, reaching for his back pocket and slowly skimping down to one knee.

“Jae...” you trailed off, emotions trying to come out from your eyelids.

“Let me finish.” His voice was wavering, a clear indication that he was incredibly nervous. “I love you, baby. Every damn thing about you, I love. I love how much you love to stay at home, doing absolutely nothing. I love how strong you are, even when you don’t have to be. When every damn thing in the world is trying to get in your way, you kick it down, and I admire you. I can’t even properly get my words out because their aren’t enough words to describe you. Hell, I even love the excessive amount of ketchup you put on your fries. All of that makes you, and I want it for the rest of my life.” His hand was shaking now, but he still managed to open the box, revealing the ring that was seemingly forbidden in his family. His grandmas ring was standing right infront of you.

“Oh my goodness.” Was all you could breathe out, clutching your chest for support.

“Please, make me the happiest man in the world, Y/N. Let me show the whole world who I love. Marry me. I can’t live without you and I know you love me just as much. Please.”

The hell you went through was trying to replay through your mind like your favorite song, but you had to block it. It didn’t deserve to win in such a moment, and all your focus was on your boyfriend. The man who you would die for.

“Yes. How could I say no?” You choked out, letting him place the ring in your finger as you bounced around like a child, immediately jumping into his arms as he held you tighter than he had ever held you in your whole relationship. His face nuzzled into the crevice of your neck, and even in this crowd of people, you couldn’t save it. You had to kiss him.

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered as you two embraced once more. “And I meant it when I said I always will. No matter what.”

“No matter what.” You cooed with a head tilt, pressing a teary kiss to his plump lips once again.

This was fate. This was how your story was going to end. It may have hurt like hell to get here, but you were going to marry the love of your life, and you didn’t care what anyone thought about it. Neither did he.

A/N: Wowwwww it’s crazy how long this series has been going on. I am so appreciative of the love y’all gave this, and I am truly sad to see it go. I know you guys probably hated this as the final part, but I plan to do an epilogue soon and also a surprise conversation between two people that I think you guys would enjoy. Thank you so much and I can’t wait for you guys to see the things I have planned next.

[nomoregoldfish]

Imagine Pacho Sends You as a Gift to (Spy on) Amado 3/3

More smut (but I’m really bad at writing it, :////). Plot twist guaranteed. And I can’t believe I wrote 6K for this, FML. What has Chema done to me? I also made a few changes in the first two parts, read the whole thing on AO3.

You are woken by a phone call in the middle of the night. But you neither move nor open your eyes. You hear some numbers, Amado sounds irritated. It could be something related to tonight's dinner?

Your patience is wore out minutes after minute and Amado still hasn't returned to bed. You make a bold decision to wake up, and the Mexican is smoking by the window. Something keeps him up at night? That doesn't sound like the Lord of the Skies, the man who has had the world at his feet.

"You wanna talk, more sex or a bath?" You carefully propose.

"I was expecting for late night snacks you pull with some Asian witch shit." Amado lets you sit on his lap. "Hang on, I've got some leftovers from the kitchen."

You two settle for sharing the jacarandas mochi from a small food container in the bathtub.

"You like it?" You don't really need validation from Amado. It's just you spent hours coming up with the idea of improvisation, trying to make a traditional Japanese dessert more appealing to the Mexican guests. "I made the bean paste from scratch, less sugar. I understand most Mexicans are not used to sweet bean paste..."

"They don't deserve it." Amado suddenly claims. You don't get it. Who are they? "They are just a bunch of pigs in expensive suits, corrupted, stinky pieces of shit." Then Amado tells you almost everything. He invited the tequila exporters with the hope that the cartel could use their affiliate companies in the States as front to launder more drug money since tequila is one of the largest yet least regulated businesses between the US and Mexico. And the politicians are officials from Mexican Customs Bureau and SHCP.

"Fucking idiots. They thought I was gonna ask them to smuggle coke under the tequila crates. With all the fucking Pier 1 sofa and Ford pasenger seat manufacturers in Juárez, I've had more than enough trucks to move products across the border." When Amado brought up money laundering, the tequila exporters expressed concern regarding possible investigation of tax evasion from ATF, putting more pressure on Amado to increase their cut.

They eventually made a deal less favorable to the cartel and that's why Amado's a bit pissed when he's on the phone.

"Why are you telling me this?" For the first time that night, you ask softly.

"Those cabrón. They don't deserve what you bring to the table. You pour your heart and soul, making the best feast I've ever had. You deserve to know what happened." 

You've never thought you'd hear that from Amado. He didn't have to tell you anything. It makes you lower your guard. You want to get closer to him, without any agenda.

"Does this mean my body won't be put in the trunk of one of your auto collections tomorrow?" You try to lighten it up.

Amado kisses you from behind. The position is awkward but neither of you care. 

Making out with Amado in the bathtub makes the night better than your wettest dream. 

The Mexican's gonna make you cum again with those magician hands of his.

"You...haven't told me if you like the jacarandas mochi." You're so screwed. Maybe you'll never get the answer because Amado's too busy sucking you tits.

Amado clears his schedule the next day. He brings you to the Asian boutique where he bought the Japanese painting.

"One of my guys found this place. I thought you might be interested..." That's cute from a drug lord. But you're not that kind of person.

"A) I don't need a Buddha artifact home to find my inner peace, and B) only Pacho wears shirts with Chinese characters taken from a poem back in the Tang Dynasty. Seriously, he's ridiculous. Come on, let's go."

Instead, you two spend the day trying different Asian food you can find in DF. From hotpot to Peking roasted duck, from pho to char kway teow. Amado seems to enjoy the Chinese food more than others.

"Most Asian restaurants in North America are run by the Chinese, from San Francisco to DF. Since you guys can't tell if an Asian cook is from China, Japan, Vietnam or Thailand, he or she would quickly learn dishes from other Asian countries. We are always the most hardworking people." You explain to him.

"Oh, I love hardworking people." He's so full of shit but you can't help smiling. 

Amado finds a fortune cookie note saying "Happy New Year of Monkey." Then you explain Monkey is one of the Chinese zodiac signs which repeat every 12 years. 

"So 1956...I am a monkey? Cool." He's surprisingly quick with math.

You write the Chinese character of monkey on a napkin and Amado seems fascinated by it. So you suggest that he could get the Chinese character tattooed, "Next time you can show that to Pacho. He probably would get one, too."

Holy shit, he's really doing it. 

The way the tattoo parole Amado brings you to is cleared makes you believe it's part of the cartel business, which makes perfect sense. 

"You don't have any tattoos? Not at all?" You're surprised when the tattoo artist prepares Amado's skin on his forearm, first cleaning then shaving.

"We've fucked three times, once in a bathtub," Amado grins, obviously in a good mood, "Don't you think it's a bit late to ask? Or I fucked you too hard you didn't notice?"

Thank God the tattoo artist doesn't even flinch.

OK, you have to get back at the fucker. So when the tattoo artist asks you for the character to make a design, you write pig in Chinese instead of monkey.

"Hold on, that doesn't look like what you wrote on the napkin. Let me see it." Right after the tattoo artist places an outline of the design on his skin, the Mexican stops him.

You're 100% sure Amado doesn't speak or write Chinese. How the fuck does he figure it out?

"What is it exactly? Tell me the truth or you will have an honest conversation with my brother." Amado makes the threat more scary by pointing at Vicente, who stands next to the door with two guns and a pink lollipop. 

"Wait. He doesn't know shit. It was me...I wrote a different character." Your confession is quick, you don't want to see anyone get hurt over this beef.

You thought it's just a silly prank. Now you realize you're dealing with the most notorious narcos of the country. Amado may look like a businessman, reasonable, even decent. He's still capable of getting violent whenever he thinks it is necessary, to an extent you really don't want to know.

You take a deep breath, then apologize to Amado. You are ready for the consequence. 

"Apology accepted. On one condition, you'll have the exact same tattoo as I do when the new design is done." Fair enough.

But you're a chef who often needs to cook right in front of customers. You can't let them see a tattoo on your forearm. 

"How about here?" The Mexican is touching your breast as if no one's around.

It's a small tattoo, just one character. But it's near your heart and you're sensitive as fuck.

You can't move but your nipples are hard almost through the entire process. Amado's right beside you and he sees everything. Someone please help you ease the pain FFS.

The fucker doesn't act on it until you get into the car. Amado shuts the soundproof panel between the front and rear seats and the next thing you know, you're riding the man who just makes you get a stupid matching tattoo. It fucking stings, and itchy. Yet the pleasure is undeniable when your tits being teased, bit, sucked. Amado carefully avoids the tattoo, which makes you want him to scratch the itch even more. You scream his name when you cum with both extreme pleasure and pain.

Amado puts an arm around you when it's over. Two matching tattoos are right next to one another. Your heart is still beating fast from the afterglow, echoing his pulse.

You feel the caress on your beast, it hurts a bit yet the body warmth is nice. Is it how it feels to be marked by someone else? Not many people will ever see it, plus it's not a specific name or symbol that would embarrass you later. It'd be a secret.

"You know what? You won't be able to find a dead body to stand in for you when you eventually betray me, sweetheart. No one else would get a tattoo like this." 

What Amado just says feels like a kick in the stomach. It's cold and absolutely right. Have you been sloppy? Has Amado figured out something already? "Why would I betray you?" You ask, but he doesn't give an answer.

It's the last day of your stay. You have a very special package delivered from Japan.

You gonna make blowfish sashimi tonight for Amado.

Everyone knows it's toxic so it has to be handled with meticulous care. You make Amado watch every step —  a set of fuguhiki, knives with thin blade is unwrapped, you pick them one by one to gut the fish, remove the deadly liver and ovaries, skin it and cut off its head. Then instead of cutting outward like most people do, you turn a knife to cut inward. 

"Careful! You shouldn't hold knife like that." Amado almost jumps in to help. But you assure him it's OK. Then you show off the technique to cut extremely thin and translucent slices of blowfish.

To make the white meat more attractive, you set the slices in a large plate with red poppy flower pattern. They are so thin, the poppy flower is still visible when all's done.

"An ancient Chinese writer used to say, 'The taste of blowfish is worthy of death.'" You joke when you mix the sauce. "Don't worry. I'm a licensed blowfish-preparation chef."

Amado squints, "So you're testing me."

You want to tell him to just trust you, but you don't know how.

"There's no antidote for the tetrodotoxin. But I'll eat it, too. If it's poisonous, our muscle will be paralyzed bit by bit when we're fully conscious, eventually we won't be able to breathe. We're going to die slowly, painfully and desperately."

You take the first bite, Amado follows.

"Why are you so loyal to him?" Amado breaks the silence, "For one, you don't sleep with him. You obviously are not related. And as far as I know, money can't buy loyalty."

"I'll answer it if you answer my question first." The Mexican agrees. "You didn't want me for me, you barely knew me. You made the decision when Pacho said I was the best, he wouldn't last a week without me. You want him, or something that makes you his equivalent. Except being gay, I don't know. You won't fuck his boys, so I'm the next proxy. Am I correct?"

After a pause, Amado nods. Then it's your turn.

"How many female chefs do you know?" Amado is confused for a few seconds, then he gets it.

"There was no place for you in your line of work, just like there was no place for him in this game controlled by men, men who have multiple wives and fuck whores. He sees himself in you. So he takes you under his wings."

"Yes. Pacho is the only one who's believed me. He's also the biggest shareholder of my first restaurant."

Amado then asks what you gonna tell Pacho when you return. "I'll tell him you give really good heads. Maybe he should try it himself." You wink, "No, I'll let him know you're not a cold-blooded bastard. Even though you sometimes make awful choice by dipping sashimi in guacamole, you're appreciative of other people's work." You really mean it, you like Amado. But you'll probably never know if he buys it or if it matters.

After a while, you finish the whole plate of blowfish sashimi. "Seems we're not dead." Amado's poking your cheek with chopsticks.

"No, we are not."

"Last question, why did Pacho send you?"

"Amado, you would've done the same. You know that."