#i wanted to post what I already had tho and I’ll keep chipping away at it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tennessoui · 4 years ago

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FeralObi anon here. How do you come up with these so fast?? Are you an infinite number of ideas and worlds in human-shaped form? I love both of those ideas. The first one kills me tho, Obi gets his first kind touch in years from lil Anakin. Also you can have lil Anakin coming home one day with a skulking, snarling nonverbal murder puppy and saying brightly, "He followed me home, can I keep him?" Schmi thinks this is definitely worse than the time he brought a krayt dragon home.

ah! hello! yes this is the first idea of a feral obi-wan who meets anakin when he's still on tatooine. i will also still do the second idea because like. i liked them equally as much rip me

but i told myself these were going to both be very short snippets and instead this one is uh 2k so i'll post the second one tomorrow instead of tonight!

(ficlet where obi-wan is captured by pirates/unspecified forces at a young age and then tortured for a decade before he escapes to tatooine when anakin is like 6. obi-wan, after a decade of torture is....not alright in this fic though he's only here at the end) (2k)

Shmi had known that when she sent her little Anakin away to follow after the stern-faced, warm-eyed Jedi Master, that this would not be the last time she ever saw her boy. She couldn’t explain how she knew, just as she had not been able to explain how she became pregnant, but she knew beyond a doubt that one day, she would see her little boy back in her arms.

She just hadn’t known it would be so soon.

“He died, Master Jinn died,” Anakin mumbles into the front of her dress, unwilling to move his head far back enough from her hug that he could talk clearly. “On Naboo. And the stupid Jedi council refused to train me even after I was so amazing in the air. Mom, I destroyed a blockade! Entirely! And they wouldn’t--they didn’t--” his little face scrunches up and then he’s bawling into his hands.

A slave, a born slave, knows intrinsically the injustice of the galaxy. It is not often they know hope.

“Oh my boy,” she whispers, smoothing a hand over the top of his head. She has questions. She has so many questions about everything he’s just said and what those strangers have put her son through, but the most important thing is a question she cannot wait until he has cried himself out to ask. “Is your chip gone, Ani? Did they remove your transmitter?”

Because she had sent him away from her so that he could be free. And that had been her own twisted version of hope, that her son could know a life she never would again. If the Jedi masters had proven to be just like every other master in the world, she would find herself sobbing into her own hands.

“Yeah,” Anakin sniffles and wipes at his ruddy cheeks, pulling back a few steps. “They removed it and everything. And--”

He pauses and drops his satchel to the ground in front of her. “They gave me credits. To buy you. For my trouble.”

He spits out the last three words like they’re the most disgusting thing in the entire world. As if Shmi’s freedom isn’t laying at their feet, mere centimeters away.

“Republic credits are no good here,” she hears herself say faintly.

“Padme, the handmaiden you met, she talked to the queen about me I guess,” Anakin mumbles, kicking his feet. “And when the queen learned that the Jedi didn’t want me even after all that, Padme says the queen says I’ll always have a place on Naboo. Me and my family. And then she took the Jedi credits and gave me these instead. It should be enough, Mom.”

Shmi sits down on the floor. With shaking hands, she opens the bag and looks inside. Yes. Yes.

There’s more than enough.

There’s enough to buy her freedom and take her boy away from Mos Espa. There’s enough to take her boy away from Tatooine completely.

“I…” she says. “Ani, I…”

“Padme said she’d send a ship for us,” Ani reports as if their lives are not changing right in front of their eyes. “In two days ‘cause I told her it might take a little bit of time to get Ben to come with us. But we can’t leave without him.”

This is said fiercely and with his arms crossed tightly over his little chest.

Shmi stares at him.

“I’ve already left him once!” Anakin says, stomping his foot. “But that was okay, because I knew you would bring him food and water and stuff. But if we’re both gone, no one’s going to be there for him.”

Shmi bites at her lip. There’s a lot of things happening very quickly right now, and she doesn’t know how to process half of them.

Her son has come back, after only being gone for a week and a half.

He has apparently either endeared himself so much to the queen of Naboo that she was willing to give him the money necessary to buy his mother from slavery and also promise him sanctuary on her planet. He says he’s done this by single-handedly ending a blockade, which is something she just cannot even think about right now.

He has told this queen--queen--that he will gladly live on Naboo with his family. Yes. Alright.

His family seems to include his imaginary friend, Ben.

Anakin has been talking about Ben for years now, ever since he was six and a half years old and sent by Watto to retrieve any scraps he could from what looked to be a crashed pod in the Wastelands. She’d let him ramble on about the ghost of a friend, because she’d known it to be something all children go through and experience. She hadn’t thought Anakin a lonely child, not with the friends he made in Mos Espa, but she’d always known that Anakin had a wandering spirit, ill-suited for Tatooine. If he liked to imagine an older man from a strange world hiding in the caves of the Wastes, then she wasn’t going to say anything.

“You have been leaving him food, haven’t you, Mom?” Anakin asks, almost accusatory. “I told him to expect you and everything.”

No. Shmi has not been traveling to the edge of the Wastelands every day during her precious few hours of free time in order to leave food to be picked apart by womp rats and desert critters and not her boy’s imaginary friend.

“Ani,” she says cautiously, quietly, “we cannot...we won’t be able to bring Ben with us when we go.”

Anakin, predictably, does not react well. “Why not!” he yells, backing away from her even further and looking as if she is the enemy. “Padme’s fine with it!”

“Aren’t you a little old for imaginary friends?” Shmi asks desperately, feeling cold suddenly even though the heat of the mid-morning sun has not abated at all.

If anything, her son looks more offended. “He’s not imaginary! Saying...saying that he’s not coming with us...is...is a bunch of poodoo!”

“Anakin!” Shmi gasps.

“Come on,” her boy says forcefully, grabbing at her hand and tugging her towards the door. She gets on her feet reluctantly and has half a mind to pull back just because he needs to learn that this sort of behavior is not okay, war hero or not. “We’re going to buy you from Watto. And then we’re going to go visit Ben!”

---

Buying her freedom takes less time than Shmi Skywalker ever thought it would. It feels distant as well, as if it’s happening to someone else.

It doesn’t help that her Ani is impatient and surly by turn, spilling the coin out onto Watto’s counter and barely waiting for him to finish counting it before he’s looking at the price of renting a four-person speeder parked outside.

“You won’t survive out there on your own,” Watto sneers, even as he’s passing her the kill-switch of her own slave chip. “Days. It’ll be days until the Hutts find out there’s a newly freed slave with no connections out there in the open. Ripe for the pickin’.”

Watto doesn’t have to tell her any of this. She knows. Gods, does she know.

But Anakin seems so sure about possessing the favor of the Queen of Naboo, or at least her handmaiden, which might be close enough to the same thing. She thanks Watto--she thanks him and then doesn’t even know why--and meets Anakin outside.

He’s bouncing around the speeder, little hands clutching his satchel to his chest. “Good!” he says when he sees her, hopping onto the machine and putting the parcel between his feet. “I got Ben something called a fig on Naboo, but I don’t know how long it’ll take for it to go bad. Apparently they’re sweet.”

Shmi goes along with it. Shmi doesn’t know why she goes along with it, but she does. She can see this is important to her boy, and though she’d rather spend the afternoon and early evening saying goodbye to her friends, she will allow Ani to say goodbye to his imaginary friend. Maybe she’ll even talk to it. “Hi, hello, I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed the imaginary blue milk and delicacies I’ve left out for you this past week and half. Oh no, it was no bother. My son insisted.”

The ride is quick--Anakin has always been a driver to push the limits of any engine he comes across--and before she knows it, he’s dismounting on a piece of desert and rock that look exactly the same as the last four pieces of rocky terrain they’ve past.

“Ben!” Ani calls, satchel clutched firmly in his hands as he makes his way deeper into the crevices of the landscape. “Ben, it’s Ani! I’m really sorry that I left! Ben? Ben! I’m back now! Ani’s back!”

It’s actually...quite pathetic, to watch her boy speak so pleadingly to the cold stone faces of the rocks around them, but if this is what he needs to do to say goodbye to his life on Tatooine, Shmi won’t say a word.

“Ben--” Anakin draws in a breath to call again, but then there’s movement out of the corner of Shmi’s eyes, and something jumps from the rock down to land on her boy.

She screams and darts forward, but the thing on top of her son snarls at her in guttural warning.

“No, Ben,” Ani coos, stroking at the face that yes, is human, now that it’s not in unnaturally fast motion. “That’s my mom, Ben.”

Ben--Ben??--growls anyway, pinning the boy--her boy--beneath him with his legs and arms.

“She’s fine,” Ani murmurs gently, one hand reaching up to stoke over the beginnings of a beard on Obi-Wan’s face “Oh Ben, I’m sorry.”

The man on top of Shmi’s child finally looks away from her and at her boy, which is both better and worse.

“Ani,” Ben drawls out, as if the word--or perhaps forming the word--hurts him.

Anakin is happy. Shmi can tell he’s happy without even being able to see much of him. It’s like the very air vibrates with his joy. “Yes!” her son says. “Ani. Ben.” He taps the man’s chest. “Ben. Ani.”

The man buries his head into Anakin’s hair, hands rubbing up and down his sides and his arms and his face.

Shmi needs to say something, wants to say something about this strange man touching boy like he owns him, but the memory of his growl and the flash of his golden eyes stops her from stepping forward.

“Anakin, get away from him,” she hisses instead of stepping forward and tearing the stranger off of her son. She has the distinct feeling Anakin wouldn’t let Ben go anywhere, not with the way his little hands are holding so tight to the man’s shoulders. The man’s shoulders that are covered with one of her old tunics that Anakin had told her became unsalvageable after its last wash.

“No,” Anakin says, tightening his hold on his...friend. “He says you didn’t give him food the entire time I was gone! He’s hungry.”

Shmi thinks there’s a very good possibility that this Ben is going to eat her, but she knows not to say anything of the sort. Not when it’s two against one.

“He hasn’t said anything!” She cries instead.

Anakin huffs at this and pats at the feral’s head. “Maybe not to you, but he talks to me.”

Shmi stares at him and wonders if there’s something she’s supposed to be doing or saying here. The man won’t allow her to tear him off her child, she knows that automatically. But she can’t--she doesn’t know--

“Anakin,” she tries, desperately.

But Anakin doesn’t even look at her, too busy petting over the man, who has at least allowed him to sit up. “Hey, I’m sorry, I thought she would,” he tells him in an undertone. “I really thought she would, but I’m back now. I’m not going anywhere without you again--”

He extends his hand and Ben presses his cheek against it with enough force that it pushes him back slightly.

“You’re coming to Naboo with us, Ben,” Anakin promises, clutching at the ends of the man’s long hair. “Or I’m not going at all.”

To Shmi, it sounds like a threat.

The way her son’s eyes flash an unfamiliar golden color makes her feel cold as a Tatooine night. She shivers, but no one notices.

#asks #feral!obi-wan #cw: torture aftermath #its really quite vague tbh #i wanted to use shmi as a narrator because i never really have before #but that means nothing but shmi's perspective gets shared #i mean obviously #but its defo outside perspective here #but this was fun #im not gonna tag it as obikin because anakin here is nine #but yeah i see them living on naboo and healing together from their traumas #and being the most important person to each other #and eventually when anakin is like 25 maybe even older #they kiss #but that's the story i didnt write lmao

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prismatales · 5 years ago

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Anon: can you please write (if you can) hawks' sister dating tokoyami 🥺👀?? i love your writing btw!! 💞💞

This one was so funny to write about!

My mentor's sister

You and Tokoyami quickly befriended each other during the beginning of the school year, ironically, you ended up bonding over your bird traits.

For some reason Dark Shadow loves to play with your feathers, and being the social and friendly person you are, entertaining the sentient quirk is not a big deal for you.

Tokoyami on the other hand...He's full-on embarrassed by the creature's behavior.

Have you seen those videos where people stick two feathers up a bird's head to make it look like ears? You do that to Dark Shadow all the time and he loves it.

A lot of people keep mentioning how cute you both look together, but most of the time you just brush it off...At least in the beginning.

Nobody knows this, but you guys secretly share tips about witchcraft every now and then.

By the time the sports festival came up, Tokoyami and you already started dating a few days after, although the relationship was still pretty casual something as simple as hanging out together was pretty nice.

One of your favorite past times is sitting together somewhere nice and quiet while reading some books, manga, etc. You could spend hours in silence and still be able to have a good time.

Remember my kissing headcanons with Tokoyami? Well the same thing happens here, instead of regular kisses he nuzzles your face affectionately.

Sometimes you convince Tokoyami to mess around with the other, both of you hiding in the dark while others walk by, the last thing they see are the shadow of a giant humanoid bird before screaming and running away.

He doesn't admit it out loud but Tokoyami's having the time of his life pulling that prank with you.

Some people end up being surprised seeing someone as friendly as you dating someone as mysterious as Tokoyami, but then they see you both hanging out and don't ask anymore.

Theeeen comes the part about family.

When Tokoyami tells you WHO he's going to an internship with he can see you freeze comically at the mention of Hawks.

"Say what now?"

The funniest -or rather scariest- thing is your wings going all big and puffy, if that doesn't scare somebody the look in your eyes definitely does.

So far nobody outside school knows you're both dating and a small part of your brain is glad about it once Tokoyami send a text mentioning how everything's going well at his internship.

Though a few months later your boyfriend's confused when his mentor comes to visit his classroom and right as he steps inside with a huge grin on his face, Y/N just stands up from her seat mumbling "nononononono" and yeets herself out the window.

The students are shocked, Hawks is moping in the corner and Aizawa is 100% done. He just looks out the windows and yells "You're suspended Takami!"

After coming back everyone's starts asking about your reaction to Hawk's appearance, that's when they find out he's your older brother and well, it's quite a surprise since only a handful of people knows the winged hero's real name.

Poor Tokoyami turned into stone at the realization he had no idea his girlfriend's the sister of his mentor and one of the top ranking heroes.

He's not really upset, and realizes the signs were a bit too obvious, the same quirk, eye markings and even some similarities in their behaviours one could point out if they paid enough attention.

Of course, the last one is also overridden by Y/N's behaviour towards her brother.

"C'mon Y/N! Don't you want a hug from your dear ol' big brother?" Hawks whines while trying to approach them during a date, grining teasingly at his little sister.

"Had it not been for the laws of this land I would have slaughtered you!" She goes as far to threaten him with her own blade feathers, something Y/N rarely does.

Tokoyami was lucky his mentor found out about their relationship after the internships, otherwise Hawks would have ended up scaring him off with that characteristic glare of his (Manga readers will know what I'm talking about)

Tho Y/N has the same glare so Tokoyami's partially immune to it.

Saying Hawks approves of their relationship is putting it lightly, he's actually over the moon when he found out Tokoyami's the guy you're dating.

He wasn't spying on you after you made a post about going to he movies with your boyfriend.

Takami may fully approve their relationship with joy, but That doesn't mean he won't tease his baby sister every now and then in front of her boyfriend.

"Should I throw corn chips at the wedding instead of rice?"

"I'LL BLOODY END YOU KEIGO!!!"

"Tokoyami, did you know Y/N came out of an egg? That means it's highly possible she'll lay one if she has a baby!"

"OH MY GOD STOP IT WITH THE EGG THING ALREADY YOU BIRDBRAIN, FUMI DON'T LISTEN TO HIM!!!"

"You guys will literally have a baby chick once you decide to have children! Isn't that nice?"

"...Fumi...Please hold my bag"

Dark Shadow pulled a pair of pom poms out of nowhere when Y/N started chasing Takami around, and even began cheering for her once she got Takami in a headlock.

"What a mad banquet of darkness..." Tokoyami mutters while his mentor's turning blue because of the girl's grip on him.

Remember when I said these two share tips about witchcraft? One time Takami was being unbearable so Y/N just grabbed a smudge stick and slapped him with it.

Tokoyami started choking on his tea when he saw the scene unfolding before him.

He tried hard but failed to contain his laughter when Hawks held his face all while giving his sister the most offended look in his whole life, so dramatic it could have been worthy of an Oscar.

*Starts drama in Japanese*

@t-amajiki @undead0relived @shoobirino @bnha-ra @godtieruwu @mysticalite

#mha imagine #bnha imagine #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #tokoyami fluff #tokoyami x reader #tokoyami fumikage #fumikage tokoyami #reader insert #female reader

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miyaniacs · 4 years ago

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Mafia AU - Bokuto x fem!reader

Chapter 8 - I love you’s and lies

Chapter 7- take you home ; Index ; masterlist

warnings: slight NSFW and FLUFF

a/n: this is kind of long upss - also sorry for typos, I looked through it and corrected everything but then posted it and everything was gone except the headline, so I had to edit everything again but was too lazy too really correct everything again ( two times )

Thursday, 9am

The sun shines on your face.

You groan and hide your face in the sheets. Your head hurts. You extend your arm and reach for your phone.

9:48 am.

Well your class already started so there’s no need to get up now.

You’re about to put your phone away when a message pops up.

From: Bokuto

9:48am

Hey there sunshine! I hoped you slept well! I’m sorry for not texting you before, I was busy with .. work… and well yeah- don’t worry tho I’m fine!

9:48am

I miss you..

9:49am

Do you want to hang out today?

You feel something shift behind you, immediately you’re pulled back against a strong chest, as small kisses are planted all over your shoulders.

Forgetting about the messages you’ve just read, you turn around and look up at beautiful olive eyes. “Good morning my love.” He says in his even deeper morning voice.

“Hey baby.” You beam back, pressing kisses all over his face.

“How’d you sleep?” He laughs softly.

“Perfect! Your bed is so comfy - I can’t believe you hid it from me all the time.” You playfully pout.

Ushijima laughs softly and rolls on his back, pulling you with him.

“That’s not funny.” You pout and he laughs even more. “Wait until you see the rest of it - and wait until you get a taste of the amazing coffee I make.” He smirks and kisses your forehead.

“Oh? An amazing coffee made by my amazing boyfriend?” You joke around until you realise what you just called him. Your whole body stiffens and you start ramble: “I - I that’s not what I meant I know we -“ but Ushijima interrupts you.

“Baby, baby, stop. There is no need to apologise. I’d love it when you call me your boyfriend.” He smiles at you lovingly.

You look up at him with big eyes, a blush on your face and a big smile.

“Does that mean … that you’ll call me your girlfriend? That you introduce myself as your girlfriend when we’re with others?”

“Yes baby. That’s what I mean. I would love to make things even more official, so everyone knew you’re mine and that they better not mess with you… but I can’t You still got your job to do.” He frowns.

Ah yes, the job.

Bokuto.

You sigh at the thought of his face, his golden eyes.. his smile.

“But love, don’t worry. I trust you. I know that you’ll always come back to me at the end of the day. That your heart belongs to me. I uhm… I’m sorry if I come off too jealous … I just.. I wasn’t sure if you’d feel the same.. and..” You shut him off by placing your lips on his.

“You big stupid idiot. Of course I feel the same.” You chuckle.

“Say it.” He looks into your eyes.

“I love you Toshi.” You say softly and blush.

Ushijimas face breaks his usual neural mask and he smiles.

He smiles such a beautiful and heartwarming simile, you have never seen him smile like this before.

“I love you too Y/N.” He leans upwards and kisses you passionately, rolling over you, deepening the kiss. “ I love you so so much.” He mutters over and over again. It feels as if a wall broke done between the two of you.

Your hands roam over his broad shoulders and you begin to kiss his neck when you hear your phone ring.

Ushijima rolls to his side and groans.

Grabbing your phone you look at the caller ID and suck in your breath.

“It’s him right?” He rolls his eyes when he sees you nod, “Then go get it.”

“Hey?” You shyly say.

“HEYY Y/N! Sorry did I wake you up?” Bokuto beams and you feel Ushijima shift beside you.

“No noo, you didn’t ! What’s up Kou?” Your smile quickly drops as soon as you see Ushijima sitting in-between your legs, evilly smirking. You mouth a “NO” and try to crawl away, but he simply grabs your legs with his big hands holding you in place - and then he begins his magic.

“Oh nothing much…, I uhm… I just missed you..” Bokuto stutters. You let out a surprised squeal when you feel two fingers inside of you.

“Oh.. uhm I’m sorry I shouldn't have called you.” Bokuto begins. “No noooo I’m sorry I was just surprised. Uhm… do you want to meet up?” You ask, trying your best to ignore Ushijima.

“YES! I- uhm I mean Yes, sure.” You can practically see Bokuto scratching his head through the phone and you smile to yourself.

“So… tonight at uhmmm.. 8pm?” You suggest.

“Yes! Perfect- I’ll pick you up at yours and we can go shopping and then head to mine?” He asks now shy again.

“That sounds perfect Kou.” You smile.

“Okay - I - uhm need to go now. Boss is calling.” He laughs, “ See you tonight!” And he hangs up.

Immediately you throw your phone on the other side of the bed and your hands grab Ushijimas hair. You scream when he bites your clit. “TOSHI OMG!”

“So … tonight?” He mumbles against you, “What do you two do?”

“I… ughhhhh fuckkkk - we chill at his… and — AHHHG!” Arching your back you groan and grab the pillow.

“Ahh… so you and him alone… in his flat.. late at night…” his fingers move faster and faster while his tongue circles around your sensitive knot.

“No.. Toshi.. this.. OMG TOSH I’M GONNA COME!”

“Yes babygirl, scream my name.” He demands.

“USHIJIMA !!!!” You scream and lift up your body.

Thursday, 11am

“Andddd here’s your special coffee!” Ushijima places the coffee mug in front of you on the table.

Taking a sip you frown.

“Wow. I can’t believe you’ve hid, an amazing bed, this beautiful view, this whole beautiful place, AND that you’re practically a barista. Ushijima? Who are you? OH also are you a florist? How do you keep all those plants alive?” You shake your head and he laughs loudly.

“I’m sorry love, I promise you form this day on, you’ll get to see all of me.” He smiles and looks at you with love filled eyes. You grab his face and kiss him passionately. His hands wander down your body and he grabs your waist, lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his torso, your hands find their way to his hair. His arms move upwards to your back, pulling you closer to him.

Pulling away, Ushijima looks into your eyes. His eyes are soft, so incredibly soft, you feel your heart getting heavier with each second you look into them. Then your stomach grumbles, ruining this perfect moment.

“Well… I’ll better make something to eat.” He laughs.

Thursday, 7:50pm

You came home just a few minutes ago. You and Ushijima spent the day at his, watching movies talking, cuddling and eating. Today felt as if you finally got to know him. From now on you can say that you know the infamous Ushijima Wakatoshi, that you truly know him.

As for now, you stand in front of your mirror, you’re wearing some tight black highwaisted sports leggings, an oversized dark grey cropped hoody and some black platform Doc Martens. Pulling up the hood, you grab your phone and head towards the front door. Bokuto should be there in a few minutes and you definitely need some fresh air to clear your mind and get into your role.

You hear the sound of the black Bugatti and in a matter of seconds it’s parked right in front of you.

Taking a deep breath you put on a fake smile and open the door. The second you see Bokutos face though, your fake smile switched into a real smile. He’s dresses as casual as you are. Grey sweatpants, black oversized T-Shirt and a black and yellow Nike Jordans cap, which he has on backwards.

“Hey there!” He smiles as you sit down and close the door.

“So… shopping now?” You wiggle your brows and smirk.

“You bet!” He says sheepishly and speeds down the road.

“How was your day?” You ask casually.

“Well… the usual…” He scratches his head, “Some business to deal with, but everything worked out just fine.” He smiles and quickly looks over at you.

“Ohh - well I’m glad.” You smile and look out of the window. Bokuto turns on the music and ironically “Gangsta’s Paradise” starts playing. You look over at him with an are you serious - look, but Bokuto just smirks and starts sining along on the top of his lungs while turning up the volume.

“Tell me why are we so blind to see That the ones we hurt are you and me?" He sings and you just had to join him.

“Been spendin' most their lives livin' in the gangsta's paradise Been spendin' most their lives livin' in the gangsta's paradise Keep spendin' most our lives livin' in the gangsta's paradise Keep spendin' most our lives livin' in the gangsta's paradise" you two sing on the top of your lungs

He stops the car on the parking lot of the grocery store and looks at you. For a second it’s silent then you two burst out in laughter.

“Okay okay, let’s get out.” You menage to say while trying to catch your breath.

You walk over to get a shopping cart and walk back to Bokuto, who’s already waiting for you with an evil smirk on his face.

“Kou - what are you planning now?” You ask and stop in front of him, a worried expression on your face.

“This.” He says and jumps in the cart, “TO THE SNACKS” he yells and extends his arm as if he’s some general on a horse, telling his soldiers to march forward.

“Omg why am I doing this to myself?” You fake whine and gather all your strength to move the cart.

“You do it for the SNACKS!” He laughs.

About an hour later, you got all the chips, chocolates, ice cream, sweets, drinks, alcohol and a watermelon, which Bokuto - still sitting in the cart - holds proudly. You move to the check- out, Bokuto lifts all the stuff out of the cart and pays - still in the cart. All the people around you two look as if you’re the craziest thing they have ever seen. The best looks you two get are the ones when you move the cart to the black Bugatti, that everyone on the parking lot is starring at.

Winking at you, Bokuto revs up the engine drives off to his apartment.

Friday 1:20am

All the snacks are open, the water melon exploded in the kitchen, the bottle of tequila almost empty and you and Bokuto have a dane off to “Hollaback Girl”. Sadly you have to admit that he is winning, simply and only to the fact that he can throw it back like a pro.

The song switches to “No Diggity” and Bokuto walks up behind you wrapping his arms around you, pressing his body against yours while you start moving your hips to the beat.

His lips find the soft skin right behind your ear.

You arch your back at the sudden contact, pressing your lower back even tighter against him.

“You’ve been with him this morning, haven’t you?” He purrs into your ear. You bite your lips and shake your head. “Don’t lie to me. I know what he’s done while I called you.” He growls in such a deep voice, your whole body shivers. “Kou.. I’m sorry I-“ you begin but quickly stop talking as you feel him biting down on your skin. “I know you’re not sorry, love. You enjoy all of this right? Having two dangerous man fighting over you?” He starts sucking on your neck, leaving marks that’ll be hard to cover up. You lean your head back against his shoulder, giving him more space to work with. One of his hands move under your hoody, fingers gazing over your skin. “I can’t blame you, love, yet I can promise that I’ll fight for you.”

Your heart arches at his words. Bokuto is so honest with his emotions and you start to feel a warm feeling filling up your heart. You can’t let this happen, you’ve just told Ushijima that you loved him, have you been lying? No. You do love him, but what is this feeling now? What is this warm feeling that fills you up?

Bokuto moves you around in his arms finally looking down at your beautiful face. With big eyes you look up to him, how could he hold back now? His lips crash with yours in a hungry kiss that leaves you breathless afterwards.

“Kouu..” You moan against his lips, but he pulls away.

“No. Not now.” he turns away. You open your eyes and the second his hands left your body you feel cold and empty.

“What.. Bokuto .. I’m sorry .. “ you stutter confused.

“No, it has nothing to do with you. I just.. I want to be sure that you really want me and that it’s not the alcohol speaking.” He says shyly and looks at the ground. At this moment, he looks more like a 16 years old that has to ask his mother to leave the house and not like a gang member.

“Thank you for being so respectful.” You smile warmly at him and walk towards him.

He looks over to you, “ You don’t think I’m weak for being that way?”

“What?! NO! How could I?” You ask confused.

“I - It’s just - I feel like I have to act a certain way since I’m in a gang… and that I don’t really fulfil those expectations.” He looks at you with big eyes. Gently you place your hands on either side of his face forcing him to look at you.

“Bokuto, there’s nothing wrong with it. You’re still dangerous and whoever messes with you has some serious death wishes. Also I believe you don’t show this side to everyone.” You smile at him and kiss his nose.

“No.. only to the ones I trust.” He mumbles embarrassed, “Have I trusted you too early, y/n?” He asks innocently and your heart breaks.

Yes yes, he did. He certainly did, but he’s not one to blame. You’ve been too open and carefree around him. You didn't act, they’ve all been your true emotions and feeling. Who is he to blame for trusting you?

“Yes Kou you did, but it’s fine. I won’t betray you.” You say and his eyes lit up.

“Thank you. It’s so hard for me to find someone to trust and who accepts me outside the gang.” He kisses your cheek and grabs your hand, “NOW we haven’t decided who won the dace off!” He laughs and starts looking for the right song.

You feel your phone vibrating.

From Tosh:

Are you okay?

Yes I am.

Okay good. Please, remember that you’re just playing a role…

I know Toshi.

Good, sorry.. I’m just worried. I’m with the boss rn and he asked where you are and I just- got worried...

I know- but you don’t have to, I’m all yours love.

I love you.

Shaking your head, you brush off the feeling of guilt and put your phone away.

Bokuto looks at you with sharp eyes.

“Hm?” you ask and look at him confused.

“Does he know you're with me?” he asks.

How. How is he able to read you so easily?

“Yes he does.” you honestly reply.

“Good.” he smirks, “I hope it bother his as much as it bothers me knowing you’re with him.” You roll your eyes and grab his phone. “You take too long to find a song.” you comment and scroll though his playlist. He hugs you from behind and he rests his chin on your shoulder. “How about we end the night with some movies?” he kisses your shoulder. “Sounds like a plan.” you smile and add “Movies and cuddles?”

“Baby, by deciding to have me as friend you signed up for a lifelong subscription for cuddles.” he laughs.

Friday, 4:40 am

Bokuto wakes up by his phone ringing.

“Yes?” he answers still sleepy.

“Bokuto? Where are you?” Sakusa asks from the other line.

“Home. Why?”

“Come to the club now. We got some business to take care of?”

“What kind of business?”

“We found someone who works for the Adlers and we need our best man to make sure we get all the needed information out of him.”

“Coming.”

Bokuto sighs and hangs up. He looks down at your sleeping form. Gently he frees himself out off your grip and lifts you up, carrying you to his bed. He stays for a few more seconds, gently running his fingers through your hair. The he kisses you goodbye and leaves.

Taglist (open) : @kageyamasbraincell , @tendouthighs , @lilacshouko @softhourswithseb @theperksofcoffee @cuddlesslut @shhhlikeme, @kynyta @yammmers @asahi-is-jesus-periodt @hxnni-bxnni @theduvetpirate @chromaticstudio @gywjd0131

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fanfiction #bokuto x reader #bokuto imagine #bokuto headcanons #ushijima x reader #ushijima headcanons #ushijima imagine

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plush-rabbit · 5 years ago

Text

Can I Ask You Something?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

You were online a week later.

It was a boring day, with a slow start and by night, you were starting to feel restless, your feet bouncing and an empty bag of chips rests on your nightstand. You were itching for something to do, anything to distract but no show or game could hold your attention. You throw your head back and gnaw at your bottom lip.

Your fingers tap against the keyboard, and with a glance at the time, you pull up the calendar for the group time slots and with a fairly positive outlook that that you wouldn’t run into the other team members, you booted up the game, and started a simple mission but even then your attention couldn’t be held. The game had already lost its spark for you.

You admit that you reacted childishly in response to being yelled at. You were always sensitive, you cried too much and took everything personally even if you tried not to but for some reason it just hit different when he had yelled at you.

You were so angry with him at the time. But when you awoke the next day, you were angry with yourself. You made that dumb post and now you had to hold off for a month to show that his words didn’t hurt you- you had a point to prove, you didn’t want to seem as someone who reacted so childishly.

You thought you would miss the game but having not played for a period of time, you were starting to enjoy your time. You slept a bit earlier, your back wasn’t sore from hunching over and you had started to pick up old hobbies that you dropped when you got sucked into this game. Picking it back up, the game no longer felt the same. You remember you could get lost in this game for hours, you liked the customization options, the weapons, and the soundtrack was pretty good, but for now as you wandered around a forest, looking for a crystal that wouldn’t be of any real use to you seeing as you had already decided to quit the game for good, you were grateful for the distraction.

But as the clock ticked on, you had already grown bored, feeling your joints become sore and a headache forming. You were about to exit out of the game and pray that none of the members would see that you were active but then a ‘ding’ startled you awake. You peeked at the corner of the screen, a familiar icon popping up. You frowned, your shoulders slumped and you debated with yourself on whether you should open the message or not but your curiosity won over.

>Are you quitting the game or not?

“Blunt as always,” you thought to yourself, your fingers already typing at the keyboard.

<User_Name>

>Yeah:P

His reply came a second later.

>Why?

You wanted to type, “Why do you care?” You really did. You had the words on screen, the cursor blinking back at you, but you couldn’t force yourself to press the ‘Enter’ key. The corner of your mouth twitched and you backspaced, the message disappearing and replaced by another.

<User_Name>

>I don’t know. I’m kinda sick of it, you know? The user base is p toxic and I know that can be said for most games but I don’t know┐(´～｀)┌

>Plus after taking a break and coming back to it,,, the game doesn’t feel the same anymore

>I’m kind of bored of it

>That’s stupid

You let of a scoff, rolling your eyes at his answer.

<User_Name>

>I have been known to be pretty dumb

>I’m sure you’ve called me stupid before too lol

You watch as the three dots bubble up and down the screen, signifying his reply is being typed out and having no other form of entertainment, you take in a deep breath and with butterflies flapping around in your stomach, you type out more before he can reply to your original message.

>Will you be fine without me?

>You won’t miss your bestest pal uwu

On the other side of the screen, Shigaraki narrows his eyes. His eyes shine dangerously, and he’s positive if you knew who were talking to, you’d be shaking and begging for you life. Or perhaps you’d be dead. He’s not sure.

>I have better ‘friends’ than you

“Ouch.” You cringe inwardly. “Strike one.”

<User_Name>

>Wow, rude much??

>Well if I’m quitting, do you want my stuff? I’ve racked up a decent amount of gold and other stuff:P

“I sound like I’m dying and writing my will, stop being weird about it. You never even meet the dude,” you mumble to yourself, grateful that the voice chat function was off. “Oh my god. He could be like super old or something”

>Does it look like I take handouts?

“Is that a strike two?” You chewed on the idea of your cheek. “If I have to ask, it probably was.”

<User_Name>

Can I ask you something?

You just did

<User_Name>

:////

You were about to type out your question, the four words staring back at you unblinking. It would be weird, right? Of course it would be. And even if you did ask him that, the odds of him accepting would be slim. Plus, if he did reject, that would be strike three and you really didn’t want to strike out so much.

>Well?

<User_Name>

>Um,,,

>How old are you?

You threw your head into your hands and let out an agonized moan. Maybe you should just delete your account now. You don’t even know the guy’s name and he doesn’t know yours. So you could just delete your account and that would be it. You’d never have to speak to him ever again.

>You’re weird

You start laughing.

<User_Name>

>Says the guy who would tell other players to be careful who they’re talking to

>Who are you? Light Yagami?

>That’s a shit reference

<User_Name>

>You got it tho

>(ʃƪ¬‿¬)

>Why do you want to know?

“You have nothing to lose really,” you try to convince yourself as a way to just get to talk to him more.

<User_Name>

>I don’t know

>After a while, I always thought of you as a friend

>The other members sorta liked me, but I think it was more of them putting up with me

>But I thought we were beginning to form a friendship so I don’t know

>I guess a dumb part of me thought we could’ve been friends outside of the game:P

Shigaraki stares at the screen in disbelief. You must not have much or any friends at all if you thought he was being friendly. He’s positive that he would kill you if he knew you in real life. Probably right away if he met you on the street or maybe he’d take you as a hostage. He’s sure that he’d kill you but now he’s not sure when.

>You really are dumb

<User_Name>

>I can’t tell if you mean it or not

>Knowing you, you probably do

>Can I say good-bye to you? Like facecam wise?

He’d kill you on sight.

<User_Name>

>You don’t have to turn your camera on!! I guess, as my last like dumb wish, I wanna say bye?

>Pleaseee（/｡＼)

>I’ll promise to log out afterwards

Shigaraki stares at your messages, trying to gauge at what you’re trying to get at. Do you really want to just say bye? Who the hell gets so emotional in a fucking game? But he would be lying is he said he wasn’t at least a bit curious to see what you look like. Maybe if he’s lucky you’ll be attractive and he could probably jerk at the thought of you before he goes to bed.

>I’m not showing my face

You smile at his answer. It’s the best that you were hoping for and you start to brush your hair out of your face, checking the mirror on your nightstand to see if you look presentable.

<User_Name>

>Fine by me

>It’ll be quick, promise:)

And soon he’s staring at the pop-up screen asking if he’d like to request a video call from you. He’s tempted to click no. He cranes his head behind him and once he’s certain that the door is closed, he accepts your call.

You pop up on screen. You’re cute, that’s as much as he’s willing to admit. You adjusting yourself, putting a strand of hair behind your ear before you realize that the call has been accepted. You look startled, and a shade of pink fills in your cheeks. You giggle nervously, waving a hand at the screen.

“Ahaha, hi!” You giggle nervously and he’s pretty sure you’re already regretting this decision. “So like I promised to keep this short and all, so I will.” You looked determined; you stand a bit straighter and take in a deep breath. You remind him of an anime character, someone with exaggerated movements and he’s positive that you’ve confessed your feelings to someone before in that same action.

“Now, now,” his voice freezes you in place, he reminds me you of snake, slithering towards their unassuming prey and you’re pretty sure that’s what he’s trying to convey, “what’s the rush? I thought we were “bestest friends”.” His voice is sickly sweet, taunting you with words that you’ve spoken. His words make you nervous, your hands clenching together and your stomach forming knots.

And suddenly it’s clicked in your mind that he wants to make you feel uncomfortable. He’s probably getting off at the thought of it. And while he is succeeding at that, you don’t want to lose whatever game he’s playing.

“Ha! You admitted it.” You swallow the lump in your throat and flex your fingers. “Okay bestie,” the way you say the word is like you’re trying to bait him into something, and even you’re not sure what you’re leading him into, “I gotta ask. Are you an old man? You sound kind of creepy. Not like a pervy creepy but like you’re gonna kidnap me and murder me in your basement kind of creepy.”

He laughs and you decide that you want to hear more of it- even if it does sound eerie.

“Do me a favor? If you do end up kidnapping me, can you at least bring me a smoothie from BlueBird’s?” You test out your luck, hoping that he’ll play along so you’re not the only talking and maybe it’ll disrupt whatever ruse he was planning.

“What flavor?” He sneered, playing at this sick roleplay that you made up.

You smiled brightly, as if you had gotten one over him, and surprisingly, he didn’t hate your smile. He’s seen all sorts of smiles directed towards him- crazed, trying to get into his good graces, smiles that held murderous intent but yours just looked happy, happy that you were talking to him. Illuminated by a yellow glow, his sneer looks more twisted, his upper lip curling in a twisted way and crimson eyes narrowed with revulsion.

“Mango, please and thank you.” You nodded your head, your smile wasn’t gentle as it was before, it was now playful, as if you wanted to continue this whole kidnapping scenario. He wanted to see how long this conversation would go before you said goodbye. For good. “Anyways, I said I’d make this quick and I will. I—”

“I’m not an old man.”

You laughed at his answer, covering your smile with your hand, and you looked up at him, your eyes brimming with mischief and excitement.

“Okay. And I’m not some elderly person either.”

“Yeah dumbass, I can see that.”

You crossed your arms and you continued to smile at him. “I get that we’re besties and all, but do you really have to keep insulting me?” You pouted your lips, before they broke out into a toothy smile, it was a bit forced but it was only to show that you were joking around with him.

“Is there any other type of friendship?” He genuinely sounded a bit curious.

“Mm, maybe?” You tilted you head to the side and he had a fleeting thought that you reminded him of a cat. “I mean, when I’m with my friends, we joke a lot but we don’t really insult each other too often.” You frowned a bit, your eyebrows furrowed before returning to the screen, giving out a half smile and shrugging your shoulders. “Thin skin, I guess.” A pause was in the air, too uncomfortable for your liking. “Are your friendships like that? Insulting, I mean.”

He hesitated for a second before replying, his voice drenched in fake nonchalance, “That’s a dumb question.”

You took that as a clue to not dwell on the subject any longer. You nodded to yourself forgetting that you were screen, only to hear him chortle on the other side.

“Are you agreeing that it’s a dumb question?”

You stretched your mouth into a nervous smile, heat lighting your cheeks as you racked your brain for a solid excuse on why you nodded to yourself. “Um, yeah?” You didn’t sound confident in the slightest but Shigaraki was curious on how you would save your own skin this time even if this conversation was rather dull. “Like, I guess it would make sense that you said that.” You brought your hands up, and shrugged them, your fingers curling inwards. “It was you who like really enforced the rule about not talking about your personal life so it makes sense that you wouldn’t want to talk about your IRL friend groups.” You leaned further back, your pillows providing comfort against the hard wood that was your bed frame.

No noise came from him other than that of fabric being moved around and scratching at the microphone. “Did you really just say ‘IRL’ instead of ‘in real life’?” He sounded smug about it, as if he had proof that you were a total dweeb. “I never took you for one of those people.” He said ‘those people’ as if it left a sour taste in his mouth.

You let out a nervous laugh, before it grew into a snicker with your eyes shut. “First of all, ‘IRL” is faster to say compared to ‘in real life’ so jot that down. Second of all,” you tilted your chin upwards, giving you a false sense of superiority, “you’re the only always going on about “eat shit and die” and “suck my dick”,” your voice dropped an octave, a poor imitation of the man who hide behind a black screen. “So if I’m one of those people, then you’re like the poster boy of a gamer gatekeeper.”

“It’s not my fault other players are shit.” He breathed out.

“Oh yeah, the other players are shit; it totally isn’t you acting better than everyone.” You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, your tone teasing.

“I’m glad you agree,” he replied, letting out huffs of air through his nose.

It grew silent once more, and this time you weren’t uncomfortable with it, it had actually felt nice. Comfortable, even. Well at least as comfortable as it could get when you couldn’t see the other game but he could see you and all your mannerisms. You clasped your hands together, intertwining them, your attention focused on the black that took up nearly all of your screen, save for your own square that held you on the left hand corner.

“I think,” you started out, the words heavy on your lips, “I think I’m ready to say goodbye.” Once you started, you couldn’t stop. A part of you wished he would interrupt and maybe ask for your email or phone number so you could continue to keep in contact, but you knew that wouldn’t happen. Whatever this was, this odd one-sided friendship, stayed and died here. “It was fun talking to you. Even if you were a dick.” You gave the man a smile, you hoped that it was seen as happy, teasing one. “I liked this one-sided friendship. Even if it hadn’t lasted for long.” You bite down on your lips, your teeth dragging against your dry, bottom lip and you reached over to your nightstand, grabbing your chapstick, rubbing the tube with your fingers before clenching it in one hand. “It was nice knowing you Tomaraki. Take care, okay?”

You didn’t wait for his reply- you knew that you wouldn’t get one. You scrolled your mouse of to the telephone outline, and as you were about to click it, his voice rasped out, telling you to wait. Startled you pulled back, the mouse jerked downwards, moving past the outline and you stared at him, eyes wide and head cocked to the side, waiting for him to speak further.

He hadn’t known why he shouted for you to wait. He didn’t even want to talk to you in the first place, it was your promise that you would leave him alone that even convinced him to accept your request but here he was, barking at you to wait as you stared at him with owlish eyes and a closed mouth as you gave him the floor to speak. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why he sounded so frantic at the thought of you leaving and then quitting the game, any form of communication getting erased within minutes.

“I,” he started out, grateful that the screen was black on his end, his hands coming up to pick at his neck, “What’s that?” He was going to kick himself later, he was sure of it.

You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing before landing on the tube in your hand. “This?” You held the tube upright, a confused smile gracing your features. “It’s chapstick. It’s uh-” you turned the tube over, looking for the label where it stated its flavor- “It’s vanilla honey flavored.” You opened the tube and rubbed the chapstick on your lips, smacking them together. “Why? You looking for recommendations?”

He decided to go for a truth, knowing that it wouldn’t give anything away. “I have dry lips.”

“Oh.” You pursed your lips, and you scratched at the area where your jawline meets your neck. “I’m not knowledgeable about the different types of chapsticks, I usually like to get the ones that have a nice flavor. I had this peppermint one but I lost it. Are you drinking enough water? That should help too. You could also try lip scrubs. You don’t have to buy them, you could always make them at home but you’d need brown sugar for a rougher feel.” You rambled on, moving your hands around, and his eyes stayed trained at your moving hands, your voice growing distant. He could only hum in response as you continued to talk and mention stores that sold lip scrubs.

“Uh, Toma? You there?” You asked, your hands clenching and bringing them closer to your chest.

He raised his eyebrows at the sound of a nickname. “Toma?”

“Hah, uh yeah. Tomaraki is too long, I mean unless you want me to call you something else?” You seemed invested with continuing the conversation and he could understand why. You always craved attention- always undermined your skills, all so someone could praise you. But why did he want to continue this conversation? Was it simply because he had someone talk to him about mundane things, things that didn’t carry so much weight? Was it because you treated him as if he were a person first, rather than a villain?

“No. No I don’t mind.” His voice came out softer than he expecting, than you were expecting given that your eyes widen, your mouth pulled into an ‘o’ shape before you smiled gently at him, your lips turning slightly upwards.

“Okay.” You held your breath for a second. “Do you wanna call me by my name?” Your voice was soft, matching his tone from earlier.

He wanted to snap at you, asking why he would even want to but he couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t know how to answer you without snapping. But you took pity on him, his silence deafening and you told him your name, you voice sweet and heating him up from within, the heat pooling in his stomach before travelling upwards into his chest, a momentary blast of warmth before it faded away. He tested your name on his tongue, the word heavy and foreign on his tongue. He repeated your name, the odd feeling being replaced by familiarity.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” You smiled, your tone playful but still soft, as you sank deeper into your mattress, your legs aching in protest from being in a still position for so long.

He didn’t have a comeback. He remained silent, repeating your name in his head, the tone of your voice when you asked him if he had wanted to know and when you spoke it, invading all of his thoughts.

“You know,” you started out, stifling a yawn behind a hand, “if you had wanted to continue this conversation you could’ve just said so. I don’t mind talking to you.”

“You’re tired.” He opted to avoid confirming or denying your accusation.

“It’s late, of course I’m tired.” He suddenly took notice of the way your eyes were starting to droop, how your eyes would widen, forcing them to stay open.

“You should go to bed.” His voice was stiff, he didn’t want to continue this conversation but he saw you frown, your lips downturned, noticing the difference in tone but you quickly smiled, any features of disappointment being erased.

“But this conversation was just getting good,” You whined, another yawn coming out, tears pricking your eyes. “Hey, I got a dumb idea,” you said.

“All your ideas are dumb,” he muttered underneath his breath, missing the fall of your face that disappeared before he could turn back.

“You want my number?” You ran a hand through your hair, swallowing deeply, your mouth suddenly dry and the chapstick on your lips too heavy. “If you want, of course. You don’t have to exchange yours. But you aren’t obligated to reply to me either. Obviously.”

He hesitated to answer; both to see you squirm in your seat but also because he was unsure. Did he want to continue this friendship that would only end sour, that wouldn’t progress further than what it already was. He reasoned to himself that if the friendship was going to stay stagnated, what was the harm of saying yes? What was the harm of talking to you a bit longer?

He nodded his head, only to realize that you couldn’t see him. The only reason you weren’t reporting him to the police, calling and screaming for heroes was because you couldn’t see him. A hand reached over to grab Father, his other hand tugging at the skin on his neck, feeling the cold air of the room sting at the raw flesh. Your reaction to his answer gave him an odd sense of pride on how you had swelled up, giving him a wide grin, the smile reaching your eyes and you sat up straighter, asking him if he was ready and you began to tell him your phone number, repeating it to make sure he had gotten it down correctly, the grin on your lips never leaving.

Ten minutes later, your account was deleted, all assets transferred over to Toma. Your eyes burned with sleep, the blankets on top of you suddenly weighed a ton, and right before you gave in to sleep, butterflies slowly started to form in your stomach.

In a dark room, only lit up by the screen of his phone, Shigaraki stays up, his eyes burning with the need for sleep as he just stares blankly at the your number. He wonders to himself why he had even agreed to accept your number, but he couldn’t go back in time and reject your offer- the most he could do was not message you. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting back and forth between ignoring you tomorrow or attempt to have a conversation with you.

Tagged:

@rogueofbullshit

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #bnha shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki x reader #i havent touched this in a while #i made a few changes to it #yikes #reading #its a slow burn for those who are interested #anyways #should have a new one shot in two days #so adios #ciays

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dickpuncher420 · 4 years ago

Text

author interview tag

i was tagged by @klabautermanns thank u fam

name: ambre or dickpuncher or miss dickpuncher

fandoms: exclusively zukka for the past ~5 years lmao. theres some old fics from a couple old fandoms still on my ao3 tho

where you post: ao3, but i also crosspost onto ffnet for the like 3 people in the world who still use it

most popular one-shot: i would say fumbling towards ecstasy but technically that has 2 chapters so i’ll go w love language instead. still kinda flabbergasted by the response to that one

most popular multi-chapter fic: fumbling towards ecstasy only wins by a technicality, also bc i only have one other actual multichap fic

favourite story you’ve written so far: ooh this ones tough. i rlly like how love language came out, and kmjtsmu is really fun to write, but i honestly might have to go w sunday morning. i had a very specific tone and vibe that i wanted to express w that fic and i think i kinda nailed it. i end up rereading it a lot just for shits

fic you were nervous to post: kiss me just to shut me up. i’ve never written a real multichapter fic before so this was a new experience, and i was rlly worried abt things like update schedules and the possibility of me abandoning it partway thru (which i do a lot w one shots. i have so many half dead wips. rip)

how you choose your titles: half of the time it’s a lyric from a song that i think matches the vibe of the fic, and the other half its just. idk. trying to come up w something fitting but also kinda witty. fumbling towards ecstasy is the exception in that its the name of a ballet i saw once.

do you outline?: only sometimes, and usually quite vaguely. i like to write down the ideas i have for each scene and generally what happens in it, but dont go super detailed and leave a lot of it up to when im actually writing. i also like to write down any specific lines of dialogue that i want to include in the scene

complete: all of them except for kmjtsmu

in progress: kmjtsmu, obviously. but i also have a post-canon longfic that ive been chipping away at kind of on and off since 2018. who knows when thatll ever get finished tho

coming soon: the last 3 chapters of kmjtsmu are my priority at the moment. i cant guarantee anything other than that

do you accept prompts?: nope

upcoming story you’re the most excited to write?: i wouldnt call it an upcoming story bc theres rlly not much of it except for a vague outline, but its an ambassador sokka fic that focuses on sokka’s difficulty adjusting to life in the fire nation. i see a lot of fic abt zuko having a rough time as fire lord and sokka caring for him, but not much of the other way around

upcoming story you’re most excited about?: hrm. i dont read a ton of wips bc i cant keep them all straight in my head (i have so many in my marked for later that im waiting to start once theyre complete) buuut im rlly looking forward to updates from feels like we only go backwards, do you take this jerk to be (your one and only), The Prince’s Guard, and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands), Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dumbasses, Unchained Melody, Epistles, and At the Top of the World. ive also been hearing talk abt a zukka big bang? so im looking forward to those being posted

tagging: @azenkii @oldpotatoe @quenchyest @dykefirelord @mavy1 @engagedzukka @this-lady-of-the-flowers if youve already been tagged i apologize

#did i do all this on my phone at 3 am bc i cant sleep? yes #good news tho! i just found out u can embed links on mobile now #tag meme #dick punches

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redbeanboi · 5 years ago

Note

same anon for mista and i love your hcs! 💖 is it ok if i ask again but this time with him pining after you for so long and just wants to be out with it and sweep you off your feet and call you his if thats alright?

AHHH!!! I love pining. And I think Mista would be such a sweet sweet doofus in love so I have fun imagining these kinds of things for him. I’m going to do a hybrid between a fanfic and an hc post, so expect like… a story, but in bullet form??? hopefully that makes sense (and hopefully this is ok!!). Here’s some Mista pining for the longest time ever… FT. the members of the Bucci gang (and Trish), who collectively decide to meddle a bit so you can just start going out already.

absolutel y LOVIng the enthusiasm for our italian marksman,,,, so if you like this ask for more Mista because writing him is actually really fun for me

also i purposely made my grammar and spelling and my voice and such very silly for this thing so please excuse that. i’m having some fun too

**mostly written from Mista’s POV**

wordcount: 3.0k

it’s been a few years now that Giorno’s been the boss

and you joined the gang a couple years ago

haven’t really climbed up the ranks, but!! Bucciarati took notice of your good work and so did Giorno

so you were assigned to work with Bucci’s team

and you’ve been there for the past year and a half

and for the past year or so, mista has had the fattest crush on you

narancia and trish took an immediate liking to you when bruno introduced you

so they introduced you to mista

anyway it’s just

so easy to fall in love with you

you’ve got the heartiest and dorkiest laugh he’s ever heard and he loves it

face of an angel

loves how you know when to crack a joke and when to get serious

beautiful lips!!! pretty and soft looking and he just wants to kiss you!!

ahem–

right

beautiful eyes!! he has no idea how many times he’s gotten lost in them, but he’s stared at them pretty often

very very intelligent, always seen with a book when the team has downtime

mista reads a lot too, but he’s been picking up more books now that he’s seen you read

that way he can do something together with you

sometimes you’ll recommend books to him

he THOUGHT he would hate the philosophy book you recommended to him

he hates philosophy and hates overthinking anything

but it turns out, the course of love was right up his alley like you suggested

and now mista is more convinced than ever that you’re his soulmate

he’s like

dead sure

100%

you’re perfect to him

sweet, funny, caring–the entire package

unfortunately guido’s convinced that you’re wayy out of his league

usually he’ll ask someone out regardless

the possibility of being shot down never scared him before

“ya win some ya lose some”

thaT used to be his mindset

but with you?!! no

he’s definitely not risking that

he’s already got something pretty good going on with you

doesn’t want to wreck the current relationship you have with each other

you’re friends and you have fun with each other

it’s basically perfect!!

except

mista obviously wants a little more than that

kisses and cuddles and maybe some other stuff too if you’re up to it

but what if you don’t want that??

and if he asks you out or tells you how he really feels

what happens???

if you say no, what’ll happen to your friendship after that??

god now he’s overthinking everything again!!

anyway it’s valentine’s day

and the entire team celebrates together because none of you have any plans

and you’re all just hanging around giorno’s big fancy house in the posillipo district of napoli

everyone’s just lounging around one of the sitting rooms when mista gets up and excuses himself to get a drink from the kitchen

Trish notices he’s been in the kitchen for way too long tho (and isolating yourself from the rest of the company is NOT party behavior)

so she goes there, sees Mista feeding the Sex Pistols a bunch of snacks and decides to take action

“Mista”

“mhm” Mista feeds number 5 another chip, looks up at trish and then goes back to feeding his babies again

final straw for trish

“oh look it’s y/n” trish points over his shoulder and mista immediaTELY scrambles around the counter and starts to stutter “I was just joking, calm down”

at least he’s snapped out of it

“don’t make jokes like that!!” mista huffs and smooths his sweater down before like, triple checking to make sure you’re not actually within earshot

“what’s the matter with you? you always get so jumpy when someone mentions y/n” she starts wagging her finger at him. “is it because you think y/n’s cute?? or is it because you have a crush on--”

“i don’t–i don’T have a crush on y/n!!” he starts digging around giorno’s fridge for a drink and just settles on cracking open a peroni

yes, mista

drink some beer

that will totally solve your problems

anyway he does like you

the thing is

he’s not sure if you like him back

and usually he’s ok with people knowing if he has a crush on someone

but now that it’s you he wants to keep it to himself

he’s always considered bucciarati, abbacchio, narancia, fugo, giorno and trish like family, but he’s not about to admit he has a crush on you

because he knows 100% that they’ll all tease him,

((ok maybe not giorno so much, but guido definitely wouldn’t put it past the other five))

he’s just not about that lifestyle

especially because narancia and trish would definitely end up letting it slip to you

and he can’t have that

no sir

when someone even slightly suggests that what mista feels for you is more than just plain old friendship he just goes pffFFfffTT me? no. no crush. i don’t do dating. or crushing. too busy for that crap

but like

cmon

everYONE knows

it’s pretty damn obvious he has a crush on you

always being the first to volunteer to get paired up with you on missions

always the first to shoo away any creep who tries to flirt with you

also he definitely throws longing glances at you whenever you’re not looking

has stared at your lips

and bruno’s caught him doing that MORE than once

((seven times now, if you must know. bruno’s been counting))

“are you going to talk to y/n tonight?” trish asks, nudging him. “neither of you have said a word to each other”

mista’s cheeks flare up immediately

now everyone knows you’re single

even mista

it’s the only reason why he’s letting himself daydream about you

but just the thought of asking you out makes him want to piss himself

he’s part of a gang, yes

he’s also part of bucciarati’s team

he’s been through life or death scenarios

he’s been at death’s doorstep more times than you can probably count

he has a place among these hardened criminals

but you just make him SO so nervous

he can’t look at you straight in the eye for more than three seconds before he starts blushing and looking away

and either you’re too dumb to notice or he’s just so so out of your radar that you ignore all his obvious feelings

“was wondering where you guys went” narancia came to get a drink too, cracks open a beer too and sits on the counter. “what’re we talking about”

“we’re talking about how much mista loves y/n”

“oh i love talking about that–wait” narancia coughs on his beer.

mista knows EXACTLY where this is going. “don’t–”

“you and–” narancia claps a hand over his mouth and starts laughing “i KNEW IT”

and soon enough everybody else (minus you) has joined them in the kitchen

everyone’s teasing mista about you (minus giorno, who’s just shaking his head), narancia’s making kissy noises

abbacchio keeps making these “just ask her out already, you idiot”

Bruno is saying “you’ll never know what happens if you don’t say anything, and we all know you want to say something–”

fugo is telling him “if you don’t take your shot now, you might not get your chance”

mista wants to SCREECH

“shut up! what if y/n hears you idiots”

and fugo goes “has anyone else noticed that thing that mista does, where he feeds y/n a bite of his food ALL the time, but he never does it with us unless we ask”

“or the one time mista took a bullet for y/n”

“or that one time he broke y/n’s umbrella so they’d HAVE to share his umbrella”

“it was broken, idiots! that’s why I shared mine”

“mmmmhm sure it was”

and fugo nudges mista a little too hard and mista spills beer on himself

“fuck you guys” and mista grumbles and shoves past them to go to the bathroom upstairs

everyone exchanges glances

giorno just jams his thumb into his temple and sighs. “how have they not gotten together yet?”

literally everyone in that room has actively tried to push you two together

none of it has worked, obviously

you aren’t making a move

neither has mista

you two are adults but you’re acting like teenagers

except most teenagers prob would’ve acted on their feelings now

and just two minutes after, you stroll into the kitchen super grumpy

“why did everyone ditch me in the sitting room?”

“oh we were just talking about you” bruno hums and pops a biscotto into his mouth

“yeah? what about?”

“talking about how wimpy you and mist–MmmP” Abbacchio claps a hand over Narancia’s mouth before he finishes

“want anything to drink?” fugo asks. his eyes are darting around like crazy and you think its s u s p i c i o u s !!!

“it’s alright I’ll get something later”

giorno wants to conduct a little experiment

mista doesn’t want to talk about his feelings for you

and you haven’t said anything really, but he has a feeling you’re not going to deny any of this

“oh, there you are mista”

and immediately you just duck under the counter behind giorno and start fixing yourself–hair, shirt, EVERYTHING

giorno just stares at you

so do the others

god its official–you and mista were made for each other

“god help me,” abbacchio gives you a hand. “what’s up with you? slip on a wet patch or something?”

you glare at all of them. “Why the hell did you do that?”

giorno smiles. you’re all pretty familiar with each other so cussing and acting a little friendly isn’t an issue.

but now bruno wants to go upstairs and dunk mista’s head into some water and tell him to just ask you out already

it’s so infuriating for them

everyone knows how much you like each other

everyone

everyone except you and mista anyway

and you’ve liked mista for almost the same amount of time he’s liked you

it’s not your fault!!!

Mista is beautiful

the most beautiful face in the world!!! and the body of a greek god

sculpted like some fancy statue

he’s sweet, can be very polite

does his job so well

smart

best, dreamiest smile you’ve ever seen

great taste in food

the best person to talk to–never too serious, but you always know he’s listening

always super super protective and considerate towards civilians and is TOTALLY against getting normal people wrapped up into their fights and work

and he’s so perfect

also not to be a pig, but you can definitely appreciate what a great ass he has

“you like mista, don’t you?” trish asks

you shrugged. “so what if I do? lots of people like mista”

“but you LIKE like him”

you’re not going to flat out deny it

otherwise giorno might take it as “oh y/n doesn’t want to be paired up with mista anymore for missions, so blah blah blah”

and nope, can’t have that

you can at least tell your new friends about your feelings

not that you’ll act out on them of course

and you’re shy about it still so you’re not going to even tHINK about telling mista

it’s fine you can just read books next to him forever

and then just watch when he finally finds someone he likes and goes out with them instead

ouch

speaking of mista

where is he

“so,… where’s mista?”

“he’s in the bathroom, but he’ll be coming down soon” fugo just points to the staircase

giorno just adds “i was thinking of taking us all out for dinner too”

so half an hour later you’re at libeccio

which is great, service and food are sublime

except you’re seated across the table from mista

and he’s not looking at you

so you just decide to talk to abbacchio and bruno since mista’s ignoring you

and mista gets a little nervous and sees how you’re talking away with abbacchio

and fair enough, abbacchio’s a great guy to talk to once he’s warmed up to you

and he’s smart and good looking

and mista’s convinced that maybe you’re just into older guys!! and bad boys!!

abbacchio’s got that aesthetic nailed down

mista starts wondering if he can pull it off

and he looks at abbacchio’s get up and gets pretty depressed

yeah, that’s not happening

you’d definitely make fun of him if you caught him dressing up like abbacchio

and he kinda stares into the bottle of mineral water on the table and spaces out

fuck this he’ll just pretend he’s on a date with you and zone everyone else out

and all of a sudden giorno looks at his watch and gets up from his seat

“I’m sorry, it looks like I’m going to have to leave early–I forgot about an appointment I was supposed to have”

mista looks confused

so do you

everyone else though is like “yeah that makes total sense giorno”

and you’re looking at them all like ??? “It’s night time”

and Bruno, the underboss gets up too

“I should probably go with you actually,”

and then Abbacchio quirks a brow…. and then a couple of seconds later sighs and adds “actually I think I have to go home and water some plants”

and you’re getting annoyed at this point “I thought you guys wanted to celebrate valentine’s day together!! I could’ve stayed home and watched movies or something tonight, jerks”

and then fugo leaves because he’s suddenly got some errands to do

and narancia and trish leave when they realize they’ve “suddenly got mani-pedi appointments” even though…. all the salons are closed at this hour

and you’re PISSED

mista stays behind though, and you’re actually really really happy about that

“thank god, at least I have you, right?”

and mista just laughs nervously

“yeah,,, I’m here for you”

and he WANTS TO SCREECH

but thankfully you just smile and clap your hands excitedly and lean over and share a menu with him

“ok !! let’s order some really expensive food and have them send the bill to the almighty ‘Don Giorno,’ huh???” and mista’s heart melts because

that is such a a brilliant idea

god you’re perfect

“yeah let’s do that,” and he just kinda basks in the proximity and lets himself get comfortable

and you both order some really tasty stuff!!!

affetati misti and burrata affumicata for appetizer (the pistols love it), risotto al pescatore and spaghetti alla carbonara for the first course, gamberoni alla griglia and filetto alla brace for the second course

and then you guys leave libeccio and find some gelateria

and you’re not really up for getting your own gelato because you’re so stuffed

but mista’s still a little hungry

and after that he offers to walk you home

the weather’s pretty nice anyway so you’re like “!! yes that sounds perfect”

and then halfway thru you ask if you can try some of his gelato and he’s like

“yeah,,, totally fine haha”

and he’s NOT screaming when you start helping yourself to his hazelnut gelato

and he kinda gestures at your mouth when some of it gets plastered to the corner of your lip

and you’re about to wipe it off yourself when he swipes his thumb around your lip

and he just kinda looks away and mutters “yeah, all good now”

the rest of the walk is super silent

so silent

not that either of you mind really

and then suddenly you’re at your apartment

and you’re about to say bye to mista

and it’s just you two and no one’s around and it’s Valentine’s Day so

why not give him a hug

so you lean in to give him a hug and mista’s like thinking ok this is happening and i am actually very fine with this

and he just kinda meets you halfway and hugs you

except he trips and all his weight kinda pushes you up against the door to you apartment

and it takes you a good minute to realize that

you’re kissing him

mista’s lips

your lips

and you wanted it to happen, yes but

oh no now everything’s RUINED

and mista just scrambles away when he realizes what he’s done and bows his head

and all of a sudden he’s babbling a bunch of nonsense and he’s so nervous

oh god it’s ruined

everything’s ruined

and he’s just moving his hands around and talking way too fast

and he’s so so full of remorse

and he tries to like lay a hand on your shoulder or like hold your hand or something but you’re staring at him like he’s grown five EXTRA heads

and maybe they’re all very attractive heads because he swears you’re blinking and babbling and looking away bashfully

and it’s so cute but he fucked up

he fucked up real bad

this is all his fault

“oh god, i’m so sorry” and he’s speaking so quickly. “please don��t leave. or you can i guess, i messed up–”

and you’re really confused because??? you thought he like flinched away because he DIDN’T like you

“i don’t understand what you’re saying mista–”

“it’s fine ! don’t worry about me, just–” he’s like shaking his head because he already messed up by kissing you, he doesn’t want to say something stupid “please just tell me what you want me to do? I know I fucked up”

and you’re just staring at him and he wants to be swallowed up by the ground right about now

“do you want me to leave you alone? i can ask giorno to transfer you to another team or something, please just–”

“I didn’t mind it”

mista just stops talking and looks at you … what

“I… actually liked it”

and he’s blinking

this can’t be real

you’re way way wayy out of his league

does this mean

“this is probably the worst time to say it, but I like you”

mista’s silent now

and then you have to swat him in the shoulder

“I said that i like you, you idiot”

and mista just gets this cheesey smile on his face and starts repeating it “you like me?? really???”

“i said it twice now, mista” and you’re just standing in front of him, hands on your hips. “at least say something back or-or SOMETHING”

and he does

he says everything

he just lets it all out

he’s liked you ever since he met you

he thought you were pretty cool already at first

and then he just got the biggest crush on you the more he got to know you

and basically

“do you…. want to keep doing this?? dinner and stuff”

and you nod so much your head might fall of your shoulders

and yes

it’s official

guido mista is now your boyfriend

unreal

and

when you guys come to work the next day and are chatting up a storm and mista just leans on you and has this big goofy grin on his face

everyone’s watching and noticing

and bruno just smiles and shakes his head

and you’re just glowing!! and smiling ear to ear

abbacchio just goes

“took you guys long enough”

ok but

im so sorry this was long--

but i love mista he’s my son and i want him to be in LOVE!!!!

best boy in the world, point blank.

fr though guys, if you want more fic/hc hybrids like this

let me know…. this was actually really fun and like

super stress free,,,, no pressure at all,,,, just all fun and laughs!!!

sidenote: that book i linked, “the course of love” is actually a very good book…. and if you’re a total romantic or just love the idea of love… then I highly recommend that you read it. i know mista would love it.

#asks #anon #guido mista x reader #guido mista #pining #we love pining #ugh this was so cute and fun

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bolbianddolanhouse · 4 years ago

Text

Book 3 FAQ!

Need to catch up? Heres all the previous FAQs 1 * 2 Heres the master post of all three books 1 * 2 * 3

Wow...you would think that with the whole pandemic that I’d get these chapters out faster. But alas this year got the best of me too. I’ve been a lil vulnerable in the tags with y’all and the check-in messages really touched me. So thank you very much to everyone that has checked up on me and enjoyed the chapters! I appreciate all of you :3 So lets roll out the questions!

Q: Who is Iwata based off? A: Iwata is based off my self-insert, which is also me. I know that sounds a lil narcissistic but it’s that real life reference that you’re a spitting image of your parent. Iwata was designed to look and act very similar to his mother based off that. What made him a little more original and not a copy of my self-insert is the tropes I added. I mirrored the trope of that of the relationship between Steven and his mom in Steven Universe; where he adored, then hated but then came to terms that he is not his mom but someone better. A whole journey of self-discovery and self-worth.

Q: The representation is amazing! How did you come up with these queer characters? A: Glad you liked them! Like I’ve said in previous FAQs and in the tags, all these characters were dreamt and I just build upon them in writing. So yes, most of my characters were created queer in my dreams but I make them more in depth by setting up how they discovered they’re queer. I did a bit of research on coming out stories and self-discovery epiphanies to have these characters more relatable so a fellow queer reader feels seen in a way. There’s already too much hetero works out there, I just want to gay it up in a respectful way.

Q: The culture mixing is really good and consistent, how do you do it? A: For starters, I am latina. But the culture mixing stems from my knowledge about other cultures through language. I’ve been studying Japanese for almost a decade now and Chinese for about 4 years, so it’s no surprise that I’m referencing them in my work. Maybe what I depict isn’t what other half-Japanese half-Latinx families do, but it’s what I’d do if I started such a family. Plus there’s some overlap within those cultures and it makes it easy to put into writing.

Q: So. much. drama! Why is this book more dramatic than the previous two? A: Book 3 is were main on-going plot gets picked up more and shows signs of resolution. In book 2, it was to focus on not only Lili and the family dynamic but to remind the reader that life moved on with little resolve for the self-insert character. Iwata has a HUGE role in the resolution but in his own special way. And I’m not saying the answer is love...but it’s leaning there.

Q: You reference specific food and snacks in this AU/ what are your favorite Cheetos? A: Like I said, I’m latina! Of course I write in the food of my home culture. Mainly the home cooked meals my mom would make for me and my siblings. It might not seem like much to the reader, but those simple meals add to the narrative of being home and traditions that help them embrace their mixed heritage. The reference of Cheetos are all over this AU because they’re my favorite hot chip. Naturally, my favorite Cheetos are the Hot con Límon with chamoy.

Q: Love that there’s no canon character deaths in this book so far, but are there any major deaths planned? A: Just one but it’s not a tragic, hero fallen type death. It’s a natural death but it’s gonna be a tear jerker. That death won’t come until the WAY end of this AU, so I’m not gonna spoil anything yet.

Q: Can’t believe you predicted Dabi’s true identity. A: It was obvious tho. I didn’t really predict anything canon if you’re an anime only for BNHA. In this AU (without spoiling too much) there’s no Endeavor redemption and Dabi doesn’t cause that big drama on live TV. So if you’re an Endeavor hater like me, you’re gonna love what I have in store for them in the next book!

Q: I love Tenya being a dad and loving husband in this AU! Will we see more dad moments? A: Glad you like those snippets of dad Tenya! I love writing them for my own indulgence since there isn’t enough love for this character in the fandom. Plus I see a whole lot of consistent readers are Iida-stans and that makes me want to write more married fluff whenever I can.

Q: Beizu is best boi/Who is Beizu based off of? A: Beizu is the genius trope in this book. I made his character a more chill version of his mom but with that ‘who is my dad’ trope. Beizu is part of a trio that’s to mirror the agent trio of Ita, Jin and Mimi. The third member is yet to be revealed but they’re a BIG plot device in the coming book. But Beizu is one of my favorite OCs, maybe I’ll do a ranking of my OCs when everyone is introduced.

Q: The villains and Hawks plot has me SHOOK! What’s going to happen to hero society when this case gets solved? A: Without spoiling it, the truth is going to expose the corrupt higher ups in hero society. The kids in the household has a part in taking down hero society as well but in their own, special way. Iwata has the biggest part in closing the case (but it’s spoiler if I say how), Lili and twins help tearing down minor things like education systems and laws. I will say though, the case gets resolved after the trio retires because Ita gets to return to America and found an heir to the company before they could draw to a conclusion. Which is a happy ending at the end of the storyline, no major deaths!

Q: Confirmed weddings? A: Yes :) because Lili and Iwata deserve good things and love. The twins have it easy in the coming book. Lili’s comes first and Iwata’s comes later than expected (can’t say why yet, gotta keep reading :3). I guess I can say that all of them get married but Lili’s and Iwata’s are the only queer ones. All the spouses that marry into the family take the Iida name, so Lili and Hanaka don’t change family names when they get married! Y’all already know those wedding chapters are gonna be lavish and take up most of the chapter, you’ll love them.

Q: But are the kids Joji stans? A: Oh jeez...they are the same way we like 80′s music. It’s pleasant to listen to but kinda cringe when you see your parents dance to it. I don’t really portray it, but the family digital library has all of Joji’s music in a playlist called ‘Sad hours Soundtrack’. If you ask Mr Muffins 2.0 who last listened to the playlist, they’ll snitch who and how many times it has been looped. That’s how Tenya knows who needs cheering up.

Q: I love the little references to their childhood, what else can you tell us about their pre-book childhood? A: As I said a few times in the tags, I cut a ton of stuff that isn’t relevant to the plot. Most of it was their childhood and how they manifested their quirks. Lili really liked to scream before she learned to talk, a very fast learner and at 3 years old got her engine quirk and later that year showed signs of a second quirk. Iwata was very quiet child, hardly cried or gets upset but latched on to mom a lot. His first words were in Spanish but struggled a bit with Japanese before entering kinder. Tensei was born first, then Hanaka followed 10 minutes later. Hanaka’s fire quirk manifested after the first breast feeding when she was getting burped by mom in the hospital. Mom likes to believe Tensei came out first to warn everybody that Hanaka can breathe fire. Tensei didn’t manifest his metal quirk until the age of 7, making him a very late bloomer. Though very different in personalities, Hanaka and Tensei get along and get very creative when it’s playtime. Up until the age of 5, mom would place Hanaka in kindling to get the BBQ grill or bonfire started. Hanaka has been known to randomly burst into flames as a baby, so Tensei had to sleep in a different crib for his safety. Tensei spent more time reading as a child because everyone was focused on managing Hanaka’s flames, thus making him a very studious boy.

Q: Not an AU question, but how are you doing?/ We don’t mind waiting for the chapters! Please take your time. A: I’ve been getting check ins and validation in my asks for the inconsistent schedule. Too many things came at me this year, both good and bad. I was doing well in speech and debate that I went to nationals and prepared myself for some serious competition, leaving no time to do chapters. Then I fell in and out of depressive episodes during lockdown where I’m from. In the summer my grandmother passed away from the virus in Mexico, then my beloved dog Mr Muffins passed away of old age. Those deaths hurt me and my family the most that I was having a hard time trying to cope plus trying to be responsible by adhering to CDC guidelines (I’m in the immune-comprised group). In my want to get over my grief, I trained and received my certificate in ordained ministry (yea I know that’s not the best first step, but I just needed to feel like I’ve achieved something being cooped up at home). I’ve very grateful that theres some readers that see the tags and check up on me. All your kind words gives me a little strength to write and finish every chapter at my pace.

Q: More art please? A: Yes :3 I have one coming up real soon! After the end of this book is where I’ll be releasing some art as a sort of place holder.

Q: Is the the estate drama eluding to the ending? A: Yup! And it will show up every now and then in the next book.

Q: This is a really good self insert AU! There’s complexity to your character and others...how do you write these interactions/relationships really close to actual ones? A: Thanks for the complement :3 When I first started this AU, I was in the middle of my semester of a creative writing course. Near the end of book 2 was when I finished the course work for it and by then you could see the progression in writing. ALSO, I’m a communications major as well! Writing these relationships and other social things were things that I remembered learning in my interpersonal communications class. I was a bit on fence on whether or not to start this AU because I didn’t think my writing skill was at all that good. With some encouragement from my classmates and friends, I pushed myself to write this whole AU out. I don’t plan on stopping until I finish the storyline, plus I hate leaving things unfinished.

And that wraps up this FAQ! Hopefully I got everyone’s questions since most were check-ins for me. But expect the last chapter for book 3 in the next few days. After Book 3, I’m going on a lil hiatus until the end of February. I have so many life events happening in the upcoming weeks that I’m gonna need time to recharge before resuming this AU. Y’all know I bounce back as promised, in the meantime, I have some art things queued to remind y’all that Book 4 is in the works. Only 2 more books to go! Thanks again for reading and I’ll talk you y’all again later in the tags~

-Love, Palma-sama

P.S. Heres the end of Book 3 for your connivence :3 other links are at the top of this post!

#mha #bnha #self insert au #not canon #FAQ 3 #Book 3 #ask me anything

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blakescoven · 6 years ago

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Undress Rehearsal (Duncan Shepherd x fem!Reader)

Summary: You got a fashion degree and moved to DC to work as stylist assistant. Unexpectedly you meet a familiar face during a meeting and it seems there’s a spark between you two...but things may take a wrong turn.

A/N: Hey lovelies!! This is my first fic EVER, so be nice! Also, forgive any grammar mistake (English isn’t my first language). Since the ending is kinda open, I guess I could write a PART 2. I’m so happy to finally be able to post this one-shot, even though it sucks! I’d appreciate every comment/reblog/DM about it and about how I could actually improve my writing. This is a sort of experiment! I’m still trying to figure out “my style”. Oh and this is important: bold type means flashback, italics are Y/N’s thoughts and // means a few days passed! ENJOY and thank you for reading! I love you.

Warnings: mean!Duncan (just a little), making out and veeery light NSFW, plot!twist, lol I think that’s enough(?)

Word count: 6.1K

moodboard by the talented @hecohansen31

You were late again. It happened twice this week. But how could that happen? You had always been a punctual and reliable person, at night you ensured that the alarm was correctly set and you never went to bed too late, afraid to not being able to wake up the morning after. So how could it be possible? Maybe because of your jetlag, but after almost a month, well, this had become a really bad excuse. Then perhaps, the frenetic pace was already affecting you that much, making you too tired to hurry up and get ready. This couldn’t happen again; you were jeopardizing your new dream job because of this straggler behavior. While you were running along the streets of Washington DC, those were your recurring thoughts. Your wheezing and the speeded-up heartbeats, pounding in your hears, were drowning out any deafening noise coming from cars and traffic, which always filled the city driveways.

From the early hours of the day, the avenues were swarming with people going to their office, each of them withdrawn into oneself, busy minding their own business with their smartphones, bringing takeaway breakfast on the other hand. You were way too anxious and distracted from running breathlessly; you had already bumped into three stupid human beings, slowly strolling down the sidewalk like damn sloths. Every single step was followed by a quick glance at your cellphone screen, checking the time and ensuring there was no missed call of your boss.

If you knew anything in this world, it was that you had to take this job seriously, dealing with the fact that your exhausting dues would have allowed your eager ass to work your way up and finally become a fashion designer. So, you didn’t expect any great satisfaction to come very soon. And starting from the bottom was really tough. After years of studying and a well-deserved university degree, you were prepared for whatever the future might have brought. Despite that, you didn’t expect at all to end up in DC, working as a stylist assistant. Sure, this would have opened the door to your real dream job, be part of the style department, designing collections for a luxury brand. You had tried your luck moving to New York, but you ended up broke, with no savings left and no available job opening. For this reason, you decided to take that chance here. You hadn’t made any progress till now though. You were new, yes, but your tasks and assignments were hardly restricted to bring coffee or running around the Capital with tons of garment bags for upcoming fittings.

Finally, after that insane 3km rush, without even stopping for a second - no, you couldn’t afford an Uber ride every time -, you arrived. Your feet hurt like hell, your cheeks covered with scarlet shades like the worst of sunburns and your breath coming in short gasps…and your hair, oh dear Lord, it was a mess. You were sure you were also sweating. Luckily, Richard, your boss, was quite nice to you and somewhat tolerant; he was sincerely impressed by all your efforts, skills and abilities, so much that he wasn’t utterly certain what you were doing there.

Five minutes past the established hour and, thank God, the client hadn’t arrived yet. You didn’t have much information or details about that meeting. You only knew that you had to help during a fitting for a client, extremely influential on the political scene. He needed a few new looks and outfits for public appearances, interviews, and fundraising events. Of course, you assumed he would have been an old middle-aged white man, with too much money to count and eager for power.

Mr moneybags is getting late tho. Too busy making grands? you thought.

Meanwhile, you were trying to look more presentable, also to not risk damaging the brand reputation.

“Y/N?”

Your calves burned and, in that moment, you thought that bringing extra sneakers would have been a good idea.

“Y/N?!”

Since the client hadn’t arrived yet, maybe you could sit down and rest for a minute on that super comfy booth near the mirror…

“Y/N!!!! HELLOO!!!” Your train of thoughts was abruptly interrupted by your boss’ yells, which suddenly caught your attention.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, I zoned out! Forgive me, what can I do for you?”

The man, a healthy and elegant 40ish brunette, looked at you concerned “Y/N I know it’s hard to settle down, but I need you to be 100% focused today. The man who’s coming is a big deal for us, he’s a powerful figure in Washington politics! He has recently taken her mother’s place as CEO of the family company. So, I want us to make a good impression!” after saying that, he looked at you from head to toe, a bit baffled.

“So…” he continued “…I need you to – in that moment you really hoped you were about to receive a major task, finally a turning point – ..to run to the bar across the street and buy some coffee, and come back quickly!” All your expectations fell apart in a sea of disappointment. “Hurry up!”

You put on a forced smile and went straight to the exit.

After having waited in line for centuries, you figured that probably the client had to have arrived, and therefore, just as you had started your day, you came back running as fast as you could, to save time.

You were holding the coffee cups in your left hand, while you were struggling to turn off your phone, which had started ringing. Opening the glass door with your hip, you were still trying to silence the ringtone, this, without even minding where put your feet up. Ugh, mom, stop calling me...always the worst timing! you screamed in your own mind, frowning. Before you could slow down your steps, one of your heels didn’t grip well the lacquered floor, making you stumble and trip. A sudden change in your balance and you couldn’t avoid slipping forward, causing the not-so-angelic flying of coffee directly on the special guest of the situation.

Damn it.

And to make matters worse, you fell to the ground, cursing the day you were born. Hell no, it can’t have really happened to me. You had just made a complete ass of yourself. You would have rather sink below the waves into the oblivion.

“OH SHIT SHIT SHIT I-I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know h-how it happened!” you were apologizing, still keeping your eyes fixed on the once-full cups rolling down the parquet, next to your badly chipped mobile touchscreen.

“The floor must be slippery…please let me make it up to you, I ca- ” you stopped all of a sudden when you lifted your gaze, for the first time since you had stepped in. Standing in front of you there was the most attractive man you’d ever seen. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on you, like two burning flames almost forming deep holes in your soul.

It’s hot in here or it’s just me?

He was tall and his toned arms were easily visible through the once-white shirt. Now that expensive fashion piece was all covered by a huge stain of hot coffee. And it was your fault. You were speechless. Your attention all focused on the man’s features. Your gaze was busy running down those perfect shaped cheekbones and the sharp jawline. Oh boy, gods’ gift indeed.

Oddly familiar to you though.

You clearly remained to stare for too long to not be noticed, because the man himself broke the silence.

“Uhm, don’t worry” he seemed taken aback for a second “I’ll send it to the cleaners or I’ll throw it away, I don’t care” he said, immediately composing himself, while carefully unbuttoning the ruined shirt, with those long fingers... You were blushing. His low soothing voice sent shivers down your spine. But his tone was plain, no apparent emotion, he seemed almost indifferent, maybe even a little annoyed. Ah, pompous ass.

Your attention was caught by your boss, who, with a worried voice, while pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed, proposed him to choose another shirt among the others and take it as an apology gift. The man accepted, nodding with a crooked smile and with smug remarks about the needlessness of gifts for a man as rich as him.

Cocky asshole! You mused, with a roll of her eyes.

Anxious to change the subject, Richard, started the introductions. “Mr Shepherd, she is my smart – but clearly clumsy – assistant, Y/N” at that very moment that name awoke the memories in your mind.

No. It can’t be true.

“Well, nice to meet you” he remarked “Y/N”, repeating your name like he was tasting it on his own tongue “..or so.” he added, with a stupid smug grin on his breathtaking face. When they shook hands, you felt a sort of jolt and realized you had been holding your breath all this time. You remained silent.

That was the same man you met 6 months ago on the flight you took to go to New York, when you moved for the first time. It was him the influential man of the meeting.

Duncan-fucking-Shepherd.

Duncan. This name was the only thing in your mind right now, while you were lying on the couch, in your little apartment, with a glass of wine loosely resting on your lower lip. Oh my God, did he recognize me? Did he figure out it was me? How had he called me that day? Oh, his angel, right. Fuck.

Your head hurt, but you couldn’t help but keep on repeat your two first meetings again and again in your mind. The Duncan Shepherd from today was completely different, compared to the man you had encountered on that plane.

He hadn’t talked about himself very much, just spilled that he was a businessman traveling for work. You had immediately noticed how mature he was to be in his late 20ish. And incredibly handsome. And charming. And seductive.

Ok, stop.

You still couldn’t understand why you. Among all the attractive available women he could easily have, during all the time of the flight, he had been flirting with you. You. He made you feel sexy, desirable and safe, after a very long time.

It was the first class. You were there because of a lucky misunderstanding. While the plane was taking off, you two had a moment, since he saw you panicking. You had started talking for real only two hours after having left Milan. The conversation started casually, then developed into a flirty game. Little did you knew that a few hours later, you would eventually find yourselves making out so much intensely, whilst the rest of the passengers was sleeping with lights off. This wasn’t like you; you were strangers after all. Damn, you only knew his first name. But you couldn’t help your crazy attraction towards him. A sort of electricity, a particular connection that you had never felt with anybody else in your life.

You were staring off into space, completely lost in your inner thoughts, while biting hard your lip and fidgeting with the hem of your oversize t-shirt. You nervously swallowed and closed your eyes. Your hand began to move from the fabric and wander over your bare legs, brushing them with your fingertips. Throwing back your head and swallowing again, you frowned and sighed. You couldn’t make those thoughts disappear. He got under your skin and no matter what you did, you couldn’t shake him.

His soft lips on yours, hot and peachy, the trailing of his wet open-mouthed kisses along your throat and the series of marks he was leaving on your skin, on the way down your collarbone. Feeling the smile of the other against your lips as you two kissed. The best feeling in the world. His small moans when you had pulled his lower lips between your teeth, while his hands were touching and roaming all over your body, as if he wanted to memorize each spot, each curve, each part of you. “Baby I wish it was just the two of us right now, damn, I want you so badly” he whispered. God, if they had been alone, you’d have gone further for sure. You were both turned on, you could tell, especially from the prominent bulge on his designer pants. All you wanted was to climb on top of him, straddling his hips, panting in his hear and feel his hot breath all over you. Intense was the craving to undress him, feel his skin against yours. Shit, it was like a living a dream.

The meeting had been canceled and rescheduled for tomorrow. The situation was quite unpleasant. What you were supposed to do now?

Judgment Day had come. You hadn’t slept at all, all night spent tossing and turning between the sheets and looking at the ceiling. How were you supposed to act now? Should you have mentioned anything? What was really killing you, was the feeling that ‘your moment’ had meant nothing for him. Yes, after 6 months, you had gone over it, also because you had no idea how to contact him. But after seeing him again, all the buried thrills came rushing back. You absolutely needed to test the waters today. What did you have to lose? Well, your dignity maybe. If he wanted to, Duncan could have easily said something. And of course, a man of his status could have anything, or anybody, he wanted. Maybe you were overthinking, maybe not.

Since it was almost dawn, and the sun was peeking through the blinds, creating a delicate play of lights and shadows on the curtains, you decided you could actually distract yourself choosing what to wear for the meeting. You shouldn’t have done it. Your bedroom had become a battlefield, all your clothes scattered all over it, like some lifeless leftovers of the closet, now empty. Almost like a little bomb went off. You kept trying combinations on combinations, each time taking off the pieces and throwing them away anywhere around you, as if you were on the verge of a breakdown. It was still a business meeting; you couldn’t dress up too revealing or doll up too much. But at the same time, you’d never give up on being yourself and express your personality through what you wore. Respecting yourself was the most important thing. Self-love. However, this didn’t solve the problem at all. You wanted to appear at your best, challenge him, in a subtle way.

On your way to the office, an unexpected call tuned you away from your own thoughts.

“Richard! Good morning! Are you calling me for coffee? Because I’ve already stopped off at the bar, now tell me who is the best assistant in the whole world?! And I’m not even late!” your smile vanished as soon as your boss answered.

“WHAT?! What does it mean you won’t be there today?” Your heart skipped a beat and started pumping so much blood through your veins, that you felt as a heatwave was rushing inside of you. “W-well if you have family issues, we agree that it’s necessary to postpone the gathering..I-” your eyes widened at the realization that you’d be alone. With Duncan.

You almost fainted on the spot.

“I’m sure you can handle it on your own! You can still reach me with a phone call, if you ever need me. Plus, don’t you think this would be the right chance to prove yourself and finally level up, get noticed and considered for that vacant position in the style & design dep.? My money’s on you, girl!”

How could you blame him, though? He was always so encouraging.

You sighed through the phone, so he added “Look, it won’t be hard. Remember that Mr Shepherd is in your hands. We have to turn him into one of the brand advocates; he’s young, a self-made man, the best choice to promote the brand awareness. It’s up to you now.”

Wow, that’s very reassuring you figured, shaking your head.

“Ok, you can do this, I have to go now, let me know how it goes. Bye!” Fuck.

“W-wait! I can’t do that withou-” he has already hung up. Looking up to the sky and letting out a frustrating grunt, you allowed yourself a childish whine and mumbled a ‘why me’.

Now you were standing outside the building, trying to collect yourself before entering. You were wearing an oversized see-through blouse, tucked in a black knee-length skirt, and an *accent color* blazer with rolled-up sleeves, to complete the look. You were ready to fight. No more clumsy bullshit.

Breathe, remember to breathe you reminded yourself, looking at the elevator door.

You strode next to the receptionist’s desk, Tiffany, or, as you liked to call her, ‘Crazypants’; since her eyes were always so disturbingly wide open – Does she ever blink? – and her hair painfully pinned back, so tight that must have hurt her. She seemed a cross between a barbie and a psycho killer. As soon as you walked by her desk, Crazypants greeted you overly excited, calling you with her earsplitting high-pitched voice. You put on your fakest smile and replied,

“Morning Tiff, uhm, I wish I could stay and chat, but I have work to-”

“The client is already here. He’s waiting for you in the fitting room” she winked. Hell, you hoped your blushing wasn’t so obvious, you couldn’t even have a few minutes to be psychologically prepared. Well, maybe better pull off the band-aid.

“Thank you for warning me! I’ll be right there” you answered. Not even before your exams you felt all this pressure.

Why is it always so hot?!

Walking along the hallway as if you were going to your own execution, you found yourself in front of the door of the rehearsal room. You gently opened it and entered. Do you know when, at some point in movies, there’s a slow-motion moment with background music?! There it was. Precisely. He had his back turned, gazing the skyline through the glass wall. And the second he heard the clicking of a pair of heels, he turned his head, smiling at you and looking intensely at your figure. You were about to die for real now.

How could someone be so beautiful?

His hair perfectly styled, his hot stubble,... Oh, that stubble was your weakness. You could already feel it between your legs and…

“Hey hey, easy with that” he teased with his deep honeyed voice, pointing the take-out coffee cups you were holding. You winced and giggled

“I’ll never stop apologizing about that, ehm, incident…but if you want one, go ahead!”

You looked at each other smiling for a while, until you had to break the silence and eventually get down to business. “So, I guess it’s better if we start…Mr Shepherd, so then you’ll be free to go back to work”, he exhaled and nodded

“Oh please, just call me Duncan.”

You saw a sort of shift in his features. His face went blank. He adopted a bossier and intimidating position, like last time. Ok, maybe he just wants to keep it professional, I understand.

“When is Richard coming?” he questioned while taking his trench coat off. “To be honest, it’ll just be me today, but it’s all right, you’re in good hands” you slightly smiled. He sighed again and you rose your eyebrow, taking it as an unspoken insult.

“Is there a problem?”

“Well, yes, I didn’t come here to waste my time with a newbie assistant.” Your jaw dropped.

“Excuse me?”

“No need to get upset darling, this is what you are, after all” he stated shrugging. You were speechless; yes, you were an assistant, but the way he said that, as if you were a dumb zero…What an asshole.

“Oookay, since I’m here..let’s continue” he glanced at you, waiting for her next move. “I agree, you can change in the wa-” you paused; he was literally undressing in front of you.

“What? There’s nothing you’ve never seen...I guess” You were confused…was he teasing you or something? “You should be more professional, I’m saying it for you”, your rage slowly increasing and flowing throughout your entire body. He was a completely different man, with all those unnecessary mean remarks. He gave you mixed feelings. You would have punched him, but at the same time, contemplating his perfectly-shaped heavenly body, his toned muscles, his thighs..you wanted to jump on him, kiss him and be his, in every way possible.

“You’re staring.”

“W-what?! No. I’m waiting for you to finish undressing, so I can give you the first change to wear..”

“Sure.”

You’d already had enough of his attitude. “I suggest starting with this evening suit, since Richard told me you’ll attend a charity gala in a few days.”

“Hush, please, save it. I don’t need all your pointless suggestions. I can handle it by myself.” he seemed almost..angry? You didn’t know how to hit back anymore. Why was he acting like that, all of a sudden? He tried on a few different outfits while you were staying there, silent, shifting your weight from a leg to another, your eyes wandering through the room, your lips pressed into a thin line and your mind trying to figure out what was happening. Duncan, noticing the tapping of your fingers on your thigh, rolled his eyes and gave you an annoyed look.

Then he huffed “Impatient, uh?”

You were hovering on the brink of an outburst.

“Why don’t you do your job and bring me some water, or take notes, or whatever you get paid for?”

“My job is helping you find a set of appropriate clothes for various occasions, trying to create the right mix & match that suits your taste and personality...” you retorted in a plain tone.

“Oh, thanks for the not required explanation, Wikipedia..”

“..but I’m not stupid, I know what a fucking stylist does” he was pushing your buttons.

“If you’d allow me to do my job, instead of questioning me, I could recommend something..”

“No need to whine, baby girl…So do it, instead of staying there like a scared little girl.”

“If relying on someone to select your wardrobe really bothers you..why don’t you choose them by yourself?” you sassed, struggling to remain polite.

“Well, I’ve demanded the help of a professional, not that of a ‘coffee-bringer’…and I’m wasting my time here”.

Ok, that’s enough.

He was still a client, but for you being treated like that wasn’t acceptable anymore. “You know what? I don’t fucking care if I get fired after saying these words. But I’m done with your dumbass comments. You’re a douchebag. I’m trying to do my job and, just because you’re rich and influential, you think you can treat me like that. Like I’m trash?” you were finally giving in to an outburst “The saddest thing is that I really hoped you would remember me. About that moment we shared 6 months ago, on that flight to New York. But obviously, I’ve given it much thought. Turns out that I’m just one of many, aren’t I? I’ve been thinking about you for weeks and when I saw you again, it all came flooding back. I’m so stupid. It’s not your fault, I was wrong to think that day could have really meant something.”

While talking, you were struggling to hold back the tears, you weren’t supposed to look pathetic, but your eyes were already watering. “So, do me a favor: end this meeting now. I’ll call Richard and tell him to take care of you, since you do not believe I’m capable enough to fulfill your needs..”

“..oh and don’t worry about seeing me again, I don’t want anything to do with you! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.” you spat, entering the small wardrobe room, without bothering to switch on the light, hoping that your angry tears would have remained unnoticed in the darkness and that Duncan would have gone for good. So you started moving crutches on the clothes stand, to make room for those outfits to restock over.

Unexpectedly you felt an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. It was Duncan. He hadn’t left.

His body pressed against yours, you were paralyzed, his arms keeping a firm grip on you. What’s happening? You knew you should have pushed him back and kick him out, but something inside you decided against it. It was like a part of your dumb heart wanted to stay still in that position forever. You two remained silent, until he whispered in your hear, with his hot breath and his cologne filling your nostrils - a mixture of cinnamon, sandalwood and tobacco.

“I’m sorry..” he sighed. He sounded sincere.

“..I went too far.”

Now your own hands were resting upon his arms. You could feel the heat his body was radiating right now. With a honeyed soft tone, he murmured “Please forgive me, I don’t know what came over me. It’s just that having you standing here again, in front of me, stunned me. I didn’t know what to do and I misunderstood your demeanor. I thought you were pretending nothing had happened, or that you didn’t recall that day, or that you simply didn’t care.”

His hold slowly loosened, allowing you to turn around and look at him with narrowed eyes and a puzzled expression, without a word.

“Uhm, I’m not very good at communicating my emotions, but you’re right. I’ve been a dick. You didn’t deserve it, but I was overwhelmed by the attempt to suppress my own feelings. Since I saw you again,”

he paused,

“you are all I can think about.” he admitted, stroking your tear-stained cheek with his thumb, but you tried to resist him,

“I hope you’re not trying to play me, because otherwise I’ll smash that stupid hot smirk to the ground.”

“So do you think I’m hot, uh?!”

“You dumbass.”

“God, you’re so damn sexy when you’re mad.” he teased, coming closer.

“What?” you giggled. He stared at your lips “I just can’t stop thinking about kissing you right now…” and unexpectedly, his hand drifted to your hip, pulling you even closer. You inhaled deeply. You were against his warm chest, sculpted to perfection. Why must he be so perfect? You placed your hand against it, intending to push him away, but instead you left it there. You froze, from both fear and excitement.

You two stared into each other’s eyes and his breathing quickened as did yours. He slowly leaned in, so his forehead rested against yours. You closed your eyes. Your faces were inches apart now, and he lightly traced your lips with one finger. His other hand placed behind your neck, shortening the distance even more.

Your noses bumped and your mouths matched up slightly-opened, breathing each other’s air directly. He brushed his lips against yours and you freaking loved it. You loved the way your body melted into his. The way your lips perfectly fitted like two puzzle pieces. The way Duncan held you tighter and tighter. It sent shivers down your back. His only desire was to touch you, to move his hands under your layers and feel your smooth skin.

You two broke the kiss for a second to catch your breath. Then he pulled you in, claiming your mouth again, hungry and intense. Duncan lowered his hands down your hips, cupping your ass and dragging you impossibly close. You deepened the kiss swallowing his groan of pleasure as you lost into each other, no space between you two. His hands were exploring your body, while you grabbed his hair tightly to restrain your own moans.

Slowly, you started exploring each other’s mouths with your tongues. Sometimes sucking his lower lip and biting it a little bit. He started kissing your jaw and leaving hickeys on your neck. He didn’t want to let you go, so he pulled you again and kissed you so hard, with much more intensity. He squeezed you, suggesting that he wasn’t going to stop. You didn’t mind at all and continued making out.

He slowly put his hands under your blouse, trying to reach and unhook your bra, eager to run his fingers along your breasts and rub it. You began unbuttoning his button-down, seductively leaving wet kisses and love bites on his chest. He moaned. Then Duncan raised your blouse and took it off completely, so he could see you.

“You’re beautiful” he purred, and started massaging your chest and kissing it hardly, licking and biting gently your nipple. While Duncan was playing with your body, you could only keep on tugging his hair, making his moans vibrate against your body. Then he kneeled down kissing your stomach.

Both of you couldn’t silent your groans anymore, the entire room was filled by sexual noises. But you didn’t care at all. You knew where it was going. Duncan pushed you against a wall, grinding on you and you could clearly feel his hardness pressed against your body. You needed more friction.

“Jump.” he suddenly hinted, and used his veiny arms to hold you up by your thighs lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Your core was throbbing at that very moment.

But you were brought back to planet Earth right after; that divine feeling was ruined by a pesky thought that clouded your mind.

What if he’s just interested in sex?

He sensed your sudden slowing down. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you remained silent, he brushed his mouth against your temple,

“Or now.”

he followed the line of your cheekbone,

“Or now.”

now he was kissing your chin,

“Or—”

then your lips were against his, again. You kept undressing slowly, savoring the moment.

But that damn thought came back, stuck in your mind. And eventually it hit you. “Wait…wait” you said, trying to steady your breathing.

“What’s wrong angel? I did something wrong or..” he questioned worriedly. “No, not at all, it was perfect..but I don’t think this is right.”

“Wait what?! Why?” Duncan replied in disbelief.

“I’m not a yes girl, Duncan. I’m not looking for casual hookups, I really want to know you better and see where this leads us.” you smiled reassuringly, caressing his cheek. You were scared as fuck. Maybe he wasn’t interested in any kind of relationship, just random booty calls. But you had to take the risk. You wanted to.

“Uhm..yeah. I guess that sounds fair enough.” he chuckled and you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “How about a coffee date? I know a place, it’s quite secluded, to not attract the attention of press and journalists” you tilted your head and frowned,

“What do you mean?”

“Angel, I don’t want you to be targeted by newspapers, they aim to find some dirt on me and make every aspect of my private life public. I prefer keeping a low profile, and put you in an uncomfortable position is the last thing I would want.” “Oh, ok. I got it.” you were a little thoughtful, to be honest. But in that moment, you would have agreed with everything he was saying. You used every inch of strength you had, to stop and not go further. Not that there was anything wrong with that. You just wished to learn more about that handsome man in front of you; his desires, his passions, his values and aspirations.

“I’d better get back to work, they’ll wonder what happened to me.” he smirked. “Yeah, you better hurry up, then” you laughed, while putting your blouse on. “I’m gonna put aside the chosen clothes” you informed, but before you could leave the cramped room, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in his arms, giving a last soft peck on your lips.

“How can I focus now, with the thought of you against me?!”

“You’ll have to make do with the memory..” you shot back “..for now.” you cooed, whispering in his hear.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. You had exchanged numbers and with all those texts you were sending to each other, you felt like a schoolgirl again. Nothing could have ruined that sensation. Before going back home, Richard called you, questioning you about the meeting, not noticing your struggle to not make disconnected sentences or beat around the bush, to hide your embarrassment. Then, to thank you for having his back, he gave you another assignment: a high-society lady had requested a selection of gowns to choose, to attend a few fundraising events. Another important add-on for your CV. A few more efforts and they would have finally offered you the long-awaited position in the creative team.

The consultation had been set up two days later, you had to go to the customer’s penthouse this time. Ugh, lazy rich people. You rang the doorbell and right after you were greeted by a thin blonde girl, all fake boobs and tinted tips, wearing a dress that seemed closer to a long top, rather than an actual dress.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Come in! I’ll be right back” she yelled. You came in holding the garment bag; you were shocked when you found out how actually big the apartment was: super modern, black & white themed and with some art hanging on the walls.

Uhm, de gustibus you muttered to yourself.

“Here I am, sorry for the waiting. I am Madison!” Why rich people seem so reluctant to share their last name with me? you mused, smiling to yourself.

“Let’s start, shall we?”

And then Madison took you to what has to be her large bedroom. Odd. That seemed more like a bachelor to you, but judging wasn’t your thing.

The fitting went smooth as silk. This Madison was a bombshell, every single dress fitted her body as it was sewn on her. For the upcoming event she chose a nude silk dress, that perfectly matched her skin tone. She looked pretty excited for the pick, so much that she started screaming and calling out loud, making you aware that there was someone else around.

“Muffin come here!!! I chose the dress!! It’s perfect oh my God! You must see it before I take it off!”

MUFFIN.

Seriously? Do not laugh, please, do not laugh.

You were biting her lip a little too hard. While Madison kept calling her…muffin, you decided to do something and began packing all the stuff back up into the bag.

“Oh finally, you walk so slow, babe…now, look! What do you think?” Before the man could answer she continued “Oh wait, how rude I am. Y/N, this is my fiancé...”

As soon as you turned around and lifted your gaze, your heart stopped beating.

“…Duncan!”

His smile soon disappeared too, replaced by a shocked and guilty expression, like a deer caught in the headlights. You froze in place.

You were trying to hold back the impending flood of tears, washing it away with your anger. A million different feelings rushed through you, but at the same time you couldn’t feel anything, just your own heart, literally breaking down in pieces.

“Do you already know each other?” Madison asked, noting Duncan’s surprise. You gathered all the strength left within you and stated

“Just one of the many customers.”

Then, lowering your broken voice, you sputtered a “Now I really have to go.”

Without saying anything more, you took the garment bag and run straight to the door, shutting it down behind your back. Right after, a teardrop rolled over your cheek, and your eyes started watering. Once that the first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream. Before turning into a sobbing mess, you walked fast down the hallway, reaching the elevator and waiting for the doors to open up.

Before you could take another step, a large hand took you by the wrist, keeping you in place. You turned around and instantly pushed him back, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“Please,” he begged,

“Let me explain. Please, I don’t want to lose you! We have something..w-we can talk about it, please, wait!”

“Go to Hell” you snapped;

and then you shoved his hand away, entering the elevator. Stupid. I am so fucking stupid. You two looked at each other one last time, shedding tears. The eyes of both soaking blatantly. And then the doors shut.

That heartbreak felt like concrete drying in your chest.

________________________________________________________________

Tagging: (I hope you don’t mind BUT tell me if you want to be removed, I was just curious to know your opinion about it, if you'd like to read it) MUCH LOVE @ladynuwanda @hecohansen31 @michael-langdon-appreciation @sojournmichael @so-langdon @stupidocupido @sammythankyou @emmyrosee

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joneswuzhere · 5 years ago

Text

in anticipation of episode 4.14, i watched ‘how to get away with murder’ s1

here’s my thoughts on how rd might be playing out an homage to the show, and on what these parallels might suggest to expect from the whole ‘jughead dies’ plot

below are complete spoilers for ‘how to get away with murder’ s1, a few spoilers for s2 and s3. and also. spoilers for donna tartt’s ‘the secret history.’ cool ok here we go

- first. we’re abbreviating the title to htg

- second. htg’s plot is pretty convoluted and out-of-order, so it’s hard to mention one thing without having to explain four other things. riverdale’s format is so chill in comparison. i apologize for repetition and confusing timeline discussion

- also, maybe u watched this show! or maybe u want to. or maybe ur impatient and just here for riverdale lol. i’m not going to make u scroll through a whole plot summary of htg’s first season. BUT i did write one up here if that’s something u want to read. it will probably make the following easier to understand, but i’ll do my best to make it accessible without that

- third. like i said, my goal here is finding potential parallels and, based on that, speculating on what rd is doing with this plot. i have no conclusions but i do have some thoughts and maybe you do too

- ok the basics of htg:

- this show is the visual inspiration for rd’s flash forward hook, as well as for the murder cover up in the woods.

- the show structure is: a main timeline, intercut occasionally with flash forwards to a murder that happens at the midseason point. similar to rd

- a difference: in rd, the flashes jump to different points over a period of days - burning their clothes, the search party, body identification, then the arrests, the line up, and then back to the ‘death’ scene. in htg, all the flashes jump to different points during one particular night, and only deal with the groups effort to dispose of the body and evidence.

- where was i. oh, but there’s 2 murders in htg. murder #1 happened before the series start point. in the main timeline, the investigation into murder #1 builds up to the midseason climax that results in murder #2 (the one the group is covering up).

- after the timeline has caught up to the midseason murder, then the flash forwards are replaced with flash backs that begin to reveal past details about murder #1.

- so right away, what stands out to me is the possibility that, once the main timeline catches up to whatever happens to jughead in the woods, rd will continue to follow this format. but what would rd flash back to? hang on,

- the genre here is inverted detective story, where instead of finding out someone was killed and following along to find out who did it,, you learn right away who’s doing the murdering and how. the mystery lies in whether they’ll get away with it and/or what led up to that point.

- in htg, murder #1 is a regular mystery, and murder #2 is inverted. in rd, jughead’s death is an inverted mystery, and there’s several other regular mysteries/deaths: chipping’s suspicious suicide, the old generation of the quill & skull society, + the missing kids that jughead and betty are investigating

- so it may transpire that we see flashbacks to those missing students, like moose or the stonewall 5. or maybe context on why chipping jumped, what dupont said to him. or a glimpse into fpj1′s time at stonewall. i’m spitballing

- hm a note on genre here: maybe there’s a conversation to be had about inverted murder mysteries and perfect murders (recall, the theme dupont assigned for the class). like, crime fiction specifically told through the perspective of getting away with it. (a perfect murder is specifically a murder that resists all explanation. no suspects, no evidence)

- ok. the first half of htg s1 is the lead up to the night of murder #2. the second half of the season focuses on how participating in and covering up a murder is affecting the people involved. grief, guilt, anxiety, nightmares. strain and changes in their relationships with each other, friends, and family. again, perhaps we’ll see rd focus on this in a similar way.

- hey btw, does that sound a little familiar to u? it might if you read the secret history. we already know this book is one of the influences behind rd’s s4 plot, but i was surprised at how much overlap is apparent between htg’s plot and the book plot. i made a chart about it lmao. more on that later

- what else fits into a parallel between rd and htg?

- some similarities between characters. htg has a group of law students from privileged backgrounds who are super competitive with each other, similar to the stonewall kids. and there’s the one outsider student who gets into the class last minute, is far less privileged, and who has a tragic past and a head for snooping and investigation.

- there’s a student/teacher affair that gets violent. it goes down pretty much the opposite of in rd; the girl gets pregnant, is totally in love, suggests the affair should be revealed to the teacher’s wife, and then she goes missing and turns up dead (murder #1)

- also, unlike rd where we have only donna’s word, in htg the affair is confirmed, and revealed through a bunch of evidence - dick pics on phones and postmortem pregnancy results, etc

- some other minor details from the show that the rd writers may have reflected upon:

- a window jumper suicide. circumstances very not the same tho

- a blink-and-miss-it scene with a dog named mr. chips, which is the nickname of the film character who rd’s mr. chipping is probably named after (goodbye mr. chips)

- also, ok. the 2 murders story is the show’s long A plot, but each episode also has a short B plot in the form of court cases that annalise and her group of student/interns work on. (btw lead character annalise is a criminal defense lawyer & law professor). details worth mentioning from some of these subplots:

- there’s a case involving cult brainwashing. a former devotee is charged with something terroristic with a bomb she did years ago, idk. annalise has her visit her old cult leader in prison to ask him to help her by testifying that he forced her to participate. this backfires - she falls back under his sway, he escapes custody during the trial, and they run away together, abandoning the family she made after leaving the cult

- in this ep the patty hearst trial is mentioned - the difficulty of trying to legally prove someone acted under duress, or prove they were brainwashed. and how trying to claim both at the same time is a terrible legal defense

- in another case, a woman is charged with murdering her housemaid while sleepwalking. she resists help from annalise bc she feels so guilty. the woman says ‘can u imagine waking up to realize that you killed somebody you loved? that’s what i did.’ except she didn’t; they figure out she was being framed by the real killer, her husband, who was jealous bc he thought he was the only one sleeping with the maid but he found out his teen son was too. yikes

- there is so much cheating in this show smh. anyway,

- these subplots are interesting to compare to rd, but sort of trivial in terms of htg’s overall plot. so what happens in the A plot after murder #2?

- a catch-up if u skipped the plot summary: annalise keating, lawyer, professor, is the central character. she’s direct, takes no shit, and puts up an emotionally impervious wall that keeps almost everyone out. but it’s also apparent from ep1 that she’s really suffering - her marriage is falling apart, she’s cheating and finds out her husband, sam, is too. they agree to repair things and sam seems to be making a big effort, but she keeps catching him in lies that point toward murder #1.

- in the latter half of the season, while she’s helping make sure the kids get away with murder #2 (they accidentally kill sam while pursuing him as the murder suspect), annalise’s grieving process is a focus. there’s an emphasis on her appearance as her armor, guarding her complicated grief over the trauma of her loss and the destruction of her trust. her cold exterior is both a protection and, at the same time, a point of suspicion for police, lawyers, and public who wonder how she can be so unaffected. meanwhile, in private, she has a total breakdown.

- this builds from a parallel that’s played with throughout the season - annalise’s control of her image vs hiding or confronting the truth. like, at one point, it’s evening, she wipes off all her makeup and pulls off her wig, then turns barefaced to her husband and asks him bluntly for the truth, why she caught him in a huge lie. and the flip side, later walking around with her whole look in place, as if nothing is wrong, is part of her effort to cover up the murder.

- i bring this up bc it reminds me of something that (the brilliant, the illuminating) @bettycooperoutfitwatch talked about in her 4.05 post, regarding That Sweater.

- in this post, at the flash forward arrest scene, she points out ‘it’s betty cooper in disguise as betty cooper.’ which, like. i’m floored by this observation

- the persona betty originally created to conform to her parents’ unattainable expectations of perfection and normality, now (not for the first time) dialed up and re-purposed to try to disperse suspicion???? love this

- annalise and betty are very Not alike as characters. but it seems that betty, like annalise, will be involved in the murder of her loved one. i’m interested to see if rd will follow htg’s emphasis on emotional turmoil and pretense in the aftermath of trying to get away with something horrible

- oh but that reminds me, i promised a chart

- i haven’t read the secret history and i have no desire to, but i foraged enough details to be able to point out some bare bones similarities going on here. it’s important to include this bc, at the moment, it complicates any attempt to figure out which, if either, inverted murder plot rd might be paralleling at any time.

- in other words, all my speculations here about htg parallels might be worthless bc i might be looking at the wrong text. it’s cool, i think that makes it more fun

- book spoilers in here. sorry it’s small, u can try to zoom in here

- please feel free to jump in with corrections or more details if you’ve read the book

- [update as of 2/25: i’m reading the fuckin book after all, so i may make another post with an updated chart at some point. maybe]

- last thing. in htg, the inverted mystery (whether or not the kids get away with it) is resolved by annalise planting evidence that frames someone else (whom she chooses bc she’s confident she can get him safely out of the charges). the bottom line there is: someone innocent is framed for murder #2.

- and then a new development - one kid involved in murder #2 freaks out and may decide to turn the others in - leads to a 3rd death. hm (post s4 update: that’s jonathan i guess)

- actually no, the real last thing. wikipedia says there’s a subplot in htg s2 that involves blackmailing annalise and others with uhhhh creepy surveillance videos of them, some that incriminate them in murder #2.

- and then, in s3, drawn out over another series of flash forwards, there’s a character death reveal... of the guy who’s most in parallel to jughead.... lmao. and speak nothing of s6. so like, there’s definitely potential for more or continuing parallels here

- i kind of hope not though, bc i don’t have it in me to watch more of this show. it’s Very high strung, i can’t deal with it (post s4 update: no i never watched any more of this show but yes, that was all definitely used by rd)

- bonus: wait do u want some of my opinions on the actual show?? favorite characters: annalise, bonnie, and oliver. i liked the fast pace but the constant tension stressed me out. also, not enough lesbians; i kept expecting bonnie and annalise to kiss. the guy who plays wes.... not a very good actor, is he? viola davis though: amazing. that’s all. watch if u like stress. sorry i spoiled everything

#riverdale speculation #episode thoughts #least coherent thing i've ever put up here but i sure did write all of that down #anyway i love when rd's plot finds a balance of different homage #man and this isn't even touching on the agatha christie stuff. it'd be neat to see betty's narrative follow something like marta/knives out #not sure how that could work tho since riverdale lacks wealthy people of any benevolence

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emu-lumberjack · 5 years ago

Text

A Text, A Mess, and Some Cookies

Newt wasn’t expecting to hear From April today, or really ever. so when he gets a text from her obviously he’ll help. plus he’ll do a little extra.

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

Ok so this has been bugging me for about a week, and I decided to finally write it out, it’s just OC work so not any fandom stuff. I feel like this comes in the middle of the characters development so yeah. I want to post it because why not, also just as backround April only likes being called Ril by close friends or family. which is also explained in my head earlier in the story. oh yeah did I mention that this is like the middle of it in my head. anyway here y’all are.

I wasn’t expecting to get the text from April, but sure enough there was her contact picture. It was one she had taken herself when they first met, she had one eye closed was holding up a peace sign and her tongue was sticking out. I loved it, it was so her and not that facade she puts up around other people where she was perfectly polite and kind.

Hey, you wouldn’t by chance be at your house? And have Advil present would you?

Strange request but you’re in luck I’m both home and have advil present

Thank you! Would you mind bringing it over? You can come through the deck and my room, I’m kinda currently couch ridden.

I’ll be over in 2

I went to the kitchen and grabbed the Advil, at this point, I trusted her enough that she legitimately needed it and she wasn’t just trying to annoy the crap out of me.

Once I got through the door I noticed her room was really messy When was the last time she cleaned? I thought to myself, walking through the hallway to the living room wasn’t much better. There were laundry baskets all around with stacks of books and papers thrown in periodically. Walking into the living room I noticed the smell coming from the garbage, not pleasant. The kitchen was right next door and even from a brief glance, I could tell the dishes were piled up high.

“Hey” a smaller voice than I was used to came from the couch. I walked around to see April with a heating pad pressed to her stomach and a blanket covering her legs, it was then that I realized how cold it was in here.

“Sorry for the mess, I haven’t exactly been feeling great the last few days.”

I handed her the Advil and said, “this isn’t exactly a few days worth of mess.”

“Yeah I know, it’s been a harder few weeks, it’s just most people buy the few days act.”

“Too bad for you I’m not most people, do you want water for the Advil?”

“That would actually be awesome.” I walked into the kitchen and my initial feeling about the it was correct, it was a total mess. How she lived like this I had no idea. Fast as I could I grabbed the last clean glass from the cabinet and got some water into it. Walking back I noticed the stains on the counter.

“Here you go April.”

“Have I mentioned your a lifesaver?” she cracked a small smile and downed the Advil.

“So you want to tell me what’s up with the getup?” I motioned to the sweats plus heating pad plus blanket combo.

“Well uh… let’s just say having two X-chromosomes sucks ass, and this time is particularly bad. I forgot to start taking Advil when I initially felt the symptoms and by the time I really needed it, I couldn’t find any. I was actually looking for a solid half hour before I texted you. Thanks again by the way, sorry I had to text you in the first place.” She looked up at me, and I swear I had never seen her that tired.

“Hey it’s completely fine I had nothing to do today anyway, you know me the most exciting thing I was planning today was sorting out my colored pens for the fourteenth time today.” we both chuckled at that.

“Well if you don’t have anything to do want to come to watch the new episode of Doctor Who with me? I recorded it last night I hear that the new fan theory is the Master coming back.”

“Scooch over you’ve got me invested now.” She sat up and motioned for me to sit where her head had been lying seconds before.

“I bet you a batch of cookies the Master doesn’t actually show up.”

“Oh, I’ll take that bet. Chocolate chip is my favorite by the way.” She was looking better but she still looked absolutely exhausted. Over the episode, I guess we must have drifted closer because at about 20 minutes in I felt a small weight on my shoulder. When I looked over I saw April sleeping softly with her head resting right where the small weight was I think that was the first time I’d ever seen her truely asleep. I moved a strand of blonde hair out of her face, she looked so much younger sleeping. I never really noticed before how much stress she carried with her until it was gone. That’s when I got the idea to help ease her stress, if just for a little.

Careful not to wake her up I gently laid her back down on the couch, before I did anything I turned off the heating pad and moved it to the table. I started by taking out the trash, then I worked through the kitchen doing the dishes and cleaning the stained countertop. I quickly realized I’d probably have to bring cleaning supplies from my house but that wouldn’t be too much of an issue. I listened to the episode as I worked, and it was on one of my supply runs that I added to my mental checklist to see what she had here for baking and what I needed to bring over. Quickly the kitchen looked less and less like a tornado had just ripped through it, and more like someone just needed to vacuum, which I would do once, she got up. Once most of the kitchen was done I started on the cookies. She had most of the stuff for the recipe so I only had to bring over chocolate chips and brown sugar. While they were in the oven I started tackling the hallway.

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

Why does it smell like heaven was my first thought upon waking up, then I remembered. Newt, Advil, Doctor Who. Wait did I fall asleep? Shit! I hated falling asleep in front of people, but I guess the 4 closing shifts combined with the 2 doubles I’d done finally caught up with me. I went to stand up thankful to notice the cramp was finally done, those are probably in my top ten painful experiences and this was definitely one of the worst ones.

I followed my nose to the kitchen where I saw Newt of all people scrubbing at a mixing bowl, chocolate chip cookies stood on a cooling rack a pleasant vanilla scent rang through the kitchen. In my groginess it took me a moment but I finally noticed that the counter was, clean? When did that happen? I must have made a noise because Newt turned around from his cleaning.

“Look whose finally awake, have a nice nap?” He tried to put in our usual sarcasm but I could tell it was really just a joke rather than our normal banter.

“Uh.. yeah. I actually really needed that. One question though, when did this,” I motioned to the clean kitchen, “happen. Because the last thing I remember the Doctor Who theme was playing and it smelled like someone just died in here.”

“Yeah, so you fell asleep about a third of the way through the episode. I personally wanted to keep watching but the smell was just so bad so I took out the trash, then I realized if you were right I was gonna need space to bake cookies, so I started doing the dishes.” It sounded true enough, but I still smelled something funny, something he wasn’t telling me about. “Then well I couldn’t really walk through the hallway when I came in so I just tidied that up a little, and I needed a place to sit on the couch, so I also put that stuff up and cleaned that a little. I didn’t want to wake you up so I left the vacuuming up to you.”

“And the cookies?” “Oh you were right, it was such a twist ending.” there was a twinkle in his eyes and he smiled at me. I gave him one right back.

“See I told you, anyway I’m sad I missed it.”

“Ya know I was busy doing this I was only able to listen to the episode, I didn’t get to watch. How bout we rewind it and watch it together? This time both of us staying awake.”

“Sounds like a plan. How bout you go get it set up, and bring the cookies out and I’ll finish cleaning up. You’ve already done so much.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah tho I think you should take the cookies out of the oven, I have a bad habit of over baking them.”

“That I remember.” we both gave a shudder of the burned cookie fiasco of October. He produced a cookie platter where he got it I have no idea and started putting cookies on it, I finished up with the mixing bowl and cleaned the electric mixer, there really wasn’t a lot to do after all Newt had done a lot.”

“Hey Ril which remote is it?” He called from the living room

“The silver one.” I hollered back. A second later I realized what he called me, and I think he did too because I swear there was complete silence even from the birds outside.

“Uh… Sorry I didn’t realize if----” he began from the other room.

“It’s fine don’t worry bout it Newt.” A breath and we were all back to normal or at least our version of normal.

Newt came back in a few minutes later, the timer on his phone must’ve gone off because he was getting the cookies out of the oven. I’m not too proud to admit that when he did I followed the cookies with my nose, they smelled amazing.

“Careful, these are still really hot.” So he did see me eyeing the cookies.

“There are cooler ones out on the living room table.”

“Yeah, but they aren’t as gooey.” I tried to sneak my arm past him to grab one, but hegrabbed my wrist and directed me away from the too hot tray.

“You’re no fun.”

“And you’re gonna get burned. At least let me move them to the cooling tray first.”

“Fine.” I sighed heavily. Once he did I grabbed the cookie sheet and dumped it in the sink to clean it, when that was done I looked over to see the still cooling cookies. Newt had his back turned, so I obviously did the only reasonable thing. I grabbed a cookie and started eating it. “Mhmmm. That is the best cookie I’ve ever had.”

“High praise coming from the picky eater herself.” back to our usual sarcasm, I could work with this.

“Well you see, there are slight imbalances with the salt to sugar ratio. I feel as though it’s a little too sweet.”

“Oh, you’re so full of shit.” We looked at each other and broke out laughing.

“Come on let’s go finish the show. I’ve got to know how right I was about the Master.”

“Oh like only nine percent.”

“Nine?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Ty.”

“That sounds more like it.” he gave a laugh, one I don’t usually hear on it’s own. It was quick but real, one that’s hard to place but will infect anyone around them with happiness. I like seeing that laugh.

#my writing #oc writing #original content #original character #Emu writes #here y'all are #I know I should be updating my fics #but I haven't been able to get this out of my head #for a WEEK #also this is definitely #not me procrastinating my final #which is a big ass project #also in my head #this is the middle of the story #so I might update it #and put stuff before it #or after it #but I just needed to write this out

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hereticpriest · 5 years ago

Text

Social Media Drabbles

Sero’s brows furrowed as a notification popped up on his phone, but he smiled when he noticed it was only that a TikTok had been uploaded by a friend. He flicked it open lazily with his thumb while chugging a bit of his recovery drink, and nearly spat the drink out when the video began to play.

Bakugo Katsuki, also known as Ground Zero, was cooking in a brightly lit kitchen. The camera was set up in one corner of the room, seemingly propped up on a shelf. He wore a black crop top advertising the hero Augment, a pair of low-slung grey sweatpants, and a white apron. The hero was tossing vegetables in a large pan, and he paused for a moment to shout over his shoulder -

“Babe, do you want food?”

The song ‘My Type’ by Saweetie began to play as the hero added a splash of oil to the pan and began to stir. A woman with pink roots and white hair danced into the room in a pair of skin-tight leggings and an oversized Red Riot t-shirt. She gave a couple of twerk-like movements while grinning and gesturing to the blond in front of her, then danced her way over to him and began pelvic thrusting barely an inch from his back while lip-syncing the song. A scowl marred Bakugo’s face as he turned to see what she was up to, sensing her presence even though he didn’t hear her. His whole act was softened by the fact that he didn’t even try to push his girlfriend away, even when her hips ground into his ass. A white hearing aid was visible in his right ear when he turned his head to look at her.

“You’re a fucking gremlin. Offer you food and you start humping my leg.”

The woman gasped, then punched her boyfriend directly in the left ass cheek before the video cut out and replayed.

@therealAugment 08-04

Stupidly hot? Check. Tsundere? Check. Chef of my dreams? Check!

#thatsmytype #groundzero #augment

Sero stared in a sort of awed horror, tapped the like button, then sent the video to one of his many groupchats with his old UA classmates.

ZerotoSero: http://vm.tiktok.com/b2k3mzc

ZerotoSero: Why ru coming for my brand Kei?

PikaPika: The fuck? What kind of loser gets mad at his gf for grinding on his ass?

Gremlin: IKR? My phenomenal sense of humour is wasted on this man

RedRiot: K but that ass punch looked like it hurt

ZerotoSero: Well deserved

PikaPika: Where the lie tho?

Splodeyboi: SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU NERDS

Splodeyboi: Who tf changed my nickname in chat?!@

Gremlin: Who tf doesn’t know how to use his phone?

Splodeyboi: I’m going to WRECK YOU

Gremlin: Promise?

PikaPika: Oop

Pinky: I left you idiots alone for five damn minutes...

~+~

Mina let out an excited giggle when a notification popped up mid-way through an intensive scrolling session on Instagram. She opened up her Snapchat and tapped on the unread message. Keiko was sprawled out over Bakugo’s lap, her cheek pressed to his shoulder and a hand tracing the column of his neck. The blond was clearly invested in the movie they were watching, as he didn’t react much when Keiko nipped at his jaw.

“I look intimidating until I smile check.” She sang, pressing her lips to his cheek, then blowing a raspberry right below his ear with her nose pressed against his hearing aid. Bakugo laughed and smushed his hand in her face, pushing her away so he could dive in to bite and kiss at her neck. Keiko giggled wildly, nearly dropping her phone before she could turn the video off.

“Fuck, those losers are so damn cute.” Mina said with a soft sigh, sending back a stream of coloured hearts in the chat.

~+~

“Aw damn it!” Kaminari dropped his controller in his seat as he stood up, brushing himself down exasperatedly, “I’m gonna get a drink. S’your turn Kiri.”

“Can you grab me a beer?” Kirishima requested, picking up the controller and flopping down on the abandoned armchair. Kaminari waved a hand in acknowledgement as he headed into the kitchen. Keiko pouted at the sight of him, putting down the bowl of diced tomatoes she’d been about to mix into a dip she was making. An answering pout from Kaminari had her opening her arms and hugging the hero as he shuffled in to cuddle her.

“You okay Pikachu?” Keiko asked in her poutiest baby voice. He gave her a little whine and a pout, drawing a soft ‘Tch’ from her, followed by a laugh.

“You’re becoming more and more like your boyfriend.”

“Am I? I didn’t think Katsu would hug you. Do you guys cuddle often? Can I join in? Go on, sparkplug. I’ll bring out some beers and some chips n’ dip.” Keiko promised.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Sarcasm queen.”

Kaminari headed into the living room again and collapsed in a chair, watching as Kirishima and Bakugo tried to find and kill eachother in the game. Keiko soon joined them with a six pack, a bowl of homemade tortilla chips, and a bowl of a homemade salsa-esque dip. She laid everything out on the table, popping the caps on three beers and setting them out for the boys. Kaminari tried to yank Keiko into his lap to distract Bakugo via jealousy, but Keiko dodged his hands easily and headed down the hall to her bedroom to grab a hoodie. Bakugo’s hoodie, of course. Kaminari was on his phone when Keiko came back into the room, circling the wooden dining chair Bakugo was sitting on. He quickly began to film as Keiko eyed her boyfriend for a moment from the side, then carefully slid into his lap facing him, snuggled tight up to his chest.

Bakugo grunted but didn’t protest, simply adjusting his arms around her so he could continue playing his game. Keiko hummed happily, nuzzling her face into his neck and letting her arms rest around his shoulders loosely. When he won, the blond leaned over to put the controller down on the table and replaced it with one of the opened beers, his hand grasping Keiko’s bum to keep her from sliding down his thighs when he leaned forwards. He swigged from the beer while Keiko barely even reacted to the movement, just kissed her boyfriend’s throat as he drank. Kaminari snickered, zooming in on his hand on her butt, then gasping as it gave a squeeze. He flicked the camera up to Bakugo’s smirking face, crimson eyes fixed on the camera.

“Shit.”

The video was later sent to Keiko and Bakugo, and the only reason he didn’t get murdered was Keiko insisting the video was adorable. Keiko trimmed out the ‘butt grab zoom’ and posted the video to Instagram, tagging Kaminari as ‘the creeper with the camera’ just to make him laugh.

~+~

The notification light flickered on Kirishima’s phone, so he dropped the weights he was lifting and grabbed his phone and water bottle to take a quick break. He squirted some of the water on his face, then downed the rest of the bottle before finally unlocking his phone.

Precious: Eiji-boo!!! Honey, come visit us! I wanna film a tiktok with you.

Precious: Have you seen the one I posted with Katsu?

Eiji: I haven’t! I’ll watch it on the way over.

Precious: See you soon Eiji! I won’t tell Katsu, he’ll be so happy to see you

Precious: You know, in his way.

Kirishima smiled, heading to the locker room to get changed and shower, but pulling up TikTok on his phone on the way. He opened Keiko’s page and grinned at the sight of her latest videos. A good half of her videos were dance videos, and the other half consisted of her pissing off her boyfriend to varying degrees. Bakugo didn’t use social media much, but he had Keiko to manage his public image with his PR rep, so he didn’t really need to. Kirishima liked that Keiko always respected Bakugo’s boundaries with what she posted or sent to them. He’d seen her record a video, show Bakugo, notice he didn’t like it and immediately delete it. It wasn’t often, however. The blond hero seemed to have endless levels of patience with his girlfriend’s antics. It seemed Keiko was the only person he had any sort of patience for.

The most recent video began with Bakugo lifting weights. Music played in the background as he bent over to pick up a weight, and as the music began to crescendo, Keiko darted onto the screen and slapped both of Bakugo’s asscheeks in time with the two claps in the music. She tried to run away after, but Bakugo caught her ankle and yanked her back to him, pinning her to the floor. The screen went black, then came back with the music repeating. Bakugo was shirtless now, and doing pull-ups in a doorway. Keiko watched him shamelessly, standing when he dropped back to the ground. She approached Bakugo, her posture and the sway to her hips saying he was about to be a very happy man. She slowly skimmed her hands over his stomach, leaning in for a brief kiss, then slapping his pecs in time with the claps in the music once again. She didn’t even have a chance to try and run. Bakugo picked her up and slammed her up against the wall, her legs around his waist and her wrists in his hands. The video ended there, and Kirishima was finally able to breathe. If anyone else had ever done that to Bakugo, he was sure they’d be murdered. He remembered (mostly fondly) when Kaminari and Sero went through their ‘fuck with Bakugo’ phase, and the many nurse office trips that resulted in.

~+~

It’s Present Mic who shows Aizawa the video. The Instagram video is exceptionally popular, but Aizawa wasn’t really a social media guy, so he never would’ve seen it otherwise. It starts a trend that is now blowing up, and Mic admits that he’s already filmed a response video. Of course he has. Dork.

It opens with Keiko on a flat grey background. She’s wearing her hero costume without her gloves, but the heavy scarring on her hands is obvious. As is the fact that she can’t close her hands fully.

“I am Augment, the unyielding hero. I have permanent damage in my hands from backlash of my quirk. I will never again be able to close my hands fully, or open them fully. My grip strength has also been reduced. My ability is not defined by my injury. I stand alongside the disabled, and those who have been permanently disfigured. Your disability does not define you. You too can be a hero.” Keiko offers a smile to the camera. Bakugo steps up beside her in his hero costume, his hearing aids clearly visible. He’s wearing his home ones, not the ones created as part of his hero costume. He swiftly fingerspells his hero name.

“I’m Ground Zero. I’m hard of hearing, but that hasn’t stopped me from being the number one hero, so you losers better step up too! Don’t let anyone tell you you can’t do something, or else you’re just as weak as they say you are!” Katsuki shouts and signs simultaneously. He tended towards simcom, and always had, even when the hearing loss was minimal.

“What Ground Zero means is that true weakness is giving up to fear, while true bravery is acknowledging fear and doing what needs be done regardless.” Keiko says, then gives the camera a peace sign, “Real heroes are defined by their heart, not their power!”

“Hey! That’s not what I said stupid woman!” Bakugo shouts, and the video ends. The comments are full of linked videos of other people saying the same sort of things. It swiftly has expanded to include mental illnesses, mental disabilities, addictions and personality issues.

After a ton of needling from Present Mic, Aizawa will eventually make one about the backlash of his own quirk. All of his previous students end up commenting on it, and Aizawa will forever deny crying over it.

#BNHA #boku no hero academia #prohero au #social media au #bakugo x oc #bakugo katsuki x oc #bakugo has hearing loss fight me #drabbles for days #mywriting

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quicksilversquared · 6 years ago

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How to Fake a Marriage Ch. 32

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(AO3) (FF.net)

Saturday morning, Adrien groaned as he woke up to the sound of an alarm blaring. He lay there for a few moments- it was Marinette's alarm, and she always turned it off pretty quickly- but the lump at his side didn't even budge.

In the background, the alarm continued to beep.

Frowning, Adrien pushed himself up and reached over Marinette to turn the alarm off before bending down to check on his girlfriend. Within a second, it became obvious that Marinette was very much asleep. Her breathing was deep and even, and she hadn't even budged on the bed.

Okay, so she clearly needed more sleep. Adrien checked her phone to make sure that she didn't have any more alarms set (she didn't; clearly she had been planning on getting up with the first one) and then he rolled back over to fall asleep.

Maybe he should have tried to wake her up, but Adrien was worried. She had been pushing so hard to get things finished for weeks now, stressing out and worrying herself into the ground. Adrien knew that she had made a lot of progress on her commissions, too- of her twelve commissions, nine were finished, two were nearly done, and one, well...

The last one required some work still, but there would be plenty of time. They had all weekend and the week, and after that was Easter Break.

Adrien fell back asleep, one hand resting against Marinette's hair. He didn't wake up again until the bed shook and he heard a shriek of "What do you mean it's ten-thirty?"

It took Adrien a few seconds to remember that a) it was the weekend, so he didn't need to try to scramble to try to get ready as well and b) it was 100% his fault that they slept so late, so he should probably be working on keeping Marinette from panicking too much.

"It's still plenty early," Adrien said, reaching out to snag Marinette before she could shoot out of bed and end up tripping over her own feet and hurting herself in the scramble. "Bugaboo, slow down. There's plenty of time in the day still. And since you got enough sleep, maybe you'll be able to focus better."

Marinette blinked and turned to look at him. "Wait- did you turn the alarm off?"

"You were sleeping through it, so I figured that you could use the extra time." Adrien slid out of bed after Marinette. "And you're mostly caught up with commissions. It's not going to help anything if you end up making mistakes because you're exhausted or if you work so long that you make yourself sick."

"Oh, I suppose. I just want to get everything finished before break, though!" Marinette yanked a new shirt on and hopped across the room as she tugged on a pair of lounge pants. She snagged a comb and started yanking it through her hair. "And I'm so close! I want to get a lot done this weekend so I can maybe take it a little easier during the week."

Adrien nodded to thin air. Marinette was already in the bathroom, frantically brushing her teeth. With a sigh, Adrien decided to head out to the kitchen to get breakfast ready.

"That was nice of you to let her sleep," Tikki said, popping out of the hall closet. Plagg was close behind, probably because he wanted his morning cheese. "She's been yawning at work really often."

"Are you telling on me?" Marinette demanded incredulously from the bathroom. "Tikki!"

"We just want you to take care of yourself, love!" Adrien called over his shoulder. "If you aren't doing anything wrong, then Tikki wouldn't be able to tell on you!"

He got a rather rude noise as a response. Laughing, Adrien headed to the kitchen and got some toast going.

Twenty minutes later, Marinette had been fed and headed over to work in her apartment. Adrien cleaned up and tried to figure out how he could help her now. There was no hardware to attach to anything, no chains to cut, no more screen printed shirts to iron (because Adrien had spent all. week. long. chipping away at those to get them finished)... but there were several boxes to mail yet, sitting in a neat stack just inside Marinette's door. He could get those mailed off before the post office closed for the day, and then Marinette would be able to fully check those commissions off of her list.

(Adrien was pretty sure that by the time the last of the commissions got sent off, everyone at the post office was going to know him by name. Since he could only carry two boxes at most over at a time, he had been making a lot of trips.)

"I bet you'll be glad when this is all done," Plagg said as he rode along on Adrien's shoulder as Adrien struggled to carry the two large boxes. "Then you'll have your wife all to yourself again!"

"She'll still be taking commissions, just not so many so she won't be so stressed. Hopefully she'll only be working for an hour or two every night instead of four." Adrien paused to push one of the boxes against a railing to he could adjust his grip. "But yeah, I'm looking forward to this batch of commissions being over. She's planning on taking a bit of a break from the commissions to recalibrate a bit so she can do quality work again, so I'm looking forward to that." It looked like the start of her break was going to line up well with the start of his break. Adrien had a large rough draft paper project due plus two midterms that he really had to study for, so he would be busy for most of the week. Any study breaks he took would be spent helping Marinette finish up in any way he could.

It was going to be a busy week.

"Dude, I thought you normally started studying ages ahead of time," Paul commented when he saw Adrien studying before class on Wednesday. "What's going on?"

"I've been spending a lot of time helping Marinette with commissions." Adrien flipped the page and kept reading. "She's only catching up now, so I'm having to crunch all of my study time. It's not that bad, though. And part of the problem was that I had the Quantum Mechanics exam last week and I had to really focus on that then."

Paul winced and nodded. "Yeah, that exam was hard. But it looked like you sailed right through it!"

"Yeah, because I studied!" Adrien had been pleasantly surprised at how straightforward the exam had seemed, so much so that he had spent a fair amount of time reviewing all of the questions and his answers just to make sure he hadn't misunderstood anything. Part of him was still worried that he had forgotten or misunderstood something important, but they were meant to be getting the scores back during class today. "I just really want to know how I did. Like, I think I did well, but who knows."

"I already know what's going to happen," one of Paul's other friends joked from the next row back. "You're going to do better than most of us and you'll still wish that you had done better, because you'll have made, like, three 'stupid' mistakes."

Adrien shrugged. So he had high standards, so what. He didn't like losing points on things that he should have gotten right.

Adrien had to put the book away as the professor entered, stack of graded exams in her arms. Everyone sat up and watched as she handed the exams back. Some people looked thrilled when they got their papers back. Others shrugged and put their returned exams away- they must have gotten the grades that they were expecting- while others groaned, flipping through the pages to see where they had gone wrong. Paul made a bit of a face at his paper before flipping through. Adrien accepted his own paper from the professor and grinned at the near-perfect score.

Clearly even spending so much time helping Marinette hadn't affected his scores. Marinette would be pleased to hear that, since she had been so concerned about how her mistakes when it came to dealing with commissions were costing him study time, too.

Adrien practically hummed his way through the rest of the day. He returned home to his apartment, studied for a couple hours, then did a quick run to the post office to mail one more package of clothes. Marinette just had one more commission to finish now, and based on the state of the pieces around the sewing machine, she didn't have too much longer to go. They were more intricate than a lot of the other designs- apparently the band had some sort of owl theme and an owl's face had to be worked both into the design of the jacket and the top. It was a gorgeous design, one that would no doubt have the band coming back for more- but it was a lot of little fiddly pieces, a lot of piecing, a lot of short seams and odd joins.

Adrien was of the opinion that it was very good that this particular commission was the last one. Marinette could take her time working on it instead of feeling like she had to rush at all.

Once the package was in the mail, Adrien headed back to his apartment to study. He was busy writing up a summary sheet when Marinette arrived home, looking a little wilted.

"Photoshoot day," Marinette explained. She shoved her hair back out of her face. "Lots of hot lights that we had to run around in all day. I don't know how the models do it."

Adrien grinned at that. "Easy. We don't run around. We just sit and look pretty and try to keep out of the way of the people running around."

"I'm taking a shower," Marinette decided. "I feel half-dead right now, but I still want to work on my commission like normal tonight. If I keep working on it, I'll be done with it and have it sent off before my birthday!" She headed towards the bathroom, still talking as she went and completely missing the frozen look on Adrien's face. "That'll be nice, to just be able to kick back and relax then."

"Right, right, of course!"

Tikki gave him a somewhat unimpressed look as soon as the bathroom door shut and they heard the water start running. "You forgot, didn't you?"

"I knew it was coming up," Adrien defended himself. He checked the calendar on his phone. "And I know it's on Saturday. I just wasn't on top of, ah, remembering stuff." He scrambled for a second, trying to think of what he could do for Marinette's birthday. She had indicated interest in having a relaxing day, which meant nothing crazy. Maybe he could invite a few of Marinette's closest colleagues and friends for a dinner together and they could all eat out somewhere. He didn't know what he could get her as a gift, though. If he could buy relaxation...

Suddenly it hit him like a train. He and Marinette had talked about going to the Bath spa at some point, and they hadn't done that yet. They could both use some relaxation time in the warm waters and maybe even a massage. Adrien scrambled for his computer, pulling up the Bath Spa page. He scrolled through page after page, trying to figure out when they would want to go. It would be easiest to go Sunday, because Marinette wouldn't have work, but Sundays were busy and it sounded like the services would be more limited. Midweek was least busy, but Adrien wasn't sure how good of an idea interrupting Marinette's work week would be.

Monday would probably work best, then. It was definitely a good thing that Marinette wouldn't be returning to Paris until Thursday evening and that he hadn't gotten his train tickets yet (much to Nathalie's everlasting ire). Sure, he was meant to have fittings Tuesday, but if he got an early train back to Paris then maybe the fittings could be pushed to Tuesday afternoon and evening.

But what if there was something going on at Madam Rosalie's on Monday that Marinette wouldn't want to miss? He wouldn't want that to happen and make a day at the spa turn into a stress fest. Maybe he could ask Madam Rosalie, but then again, she might not know everything about what was going on in Marinette's design group at all times. It would be better to ask one of the members on Marinette's team.

"Is Sarah home, do you know?" Adrien asked Tikki. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You aren't going to ask her about what to get Marinette, are you?"

"So little faith! No, I just want to ask her about timing for Marinette's present." Adrien headed for the door, figuring that since Marinette was home, Sarah probably was as well. "And I might ask about if people on Marinette's team might be interested in getting together on Saturday."

"Oh!" Tikki promptly cheered right back up. "Okay! In that case, Sarah is home."

Adrien checked to make sure he hadn't left his computer open to the Bath Spa page and then headed upstairs to Sarah's apartment. She answered within a couple seconds and raised an eyebrow when she saw him standing there. "Adrien! Does Marinette need more help on something? I think I'm too wiped to be much help today."

"She's good with the commissions right now," Adrien told her. "I just had a question- is there anything important going on at work on Monday? I wanted to get Marinette a trip to the spa up in Bath for her birthday, and from what I can tell it would be best to go on Monday instead of over the weekend so it's not so busy."

"It's her birthday soon?" Sarah sounded surprised. "Oh! Shoot, we totally forgot. She should have said something! We always go out for lunch or dinner when it's someone's birthday. I'll have to tell the rest of our team. What day is it?"

"Saturday."

"She should have said something," Sarah repeated. "I think most of us should be able to be here, though. How does dinner on Saturday sound? Do you know what her favorite restaurant is?"

"That Greek place down the road is a big favorite of hers," Adrien told her. "But about Monday-"

"It's just a normal day," Sarah assured him. "And I can talk to the head of our group to make sure Monday stays normal so Marinette can miss it. Do you know what you're doing at the spa? There's some really great massages and everything."

Adrien just grinned and shrugged. "I figured that I would leave the specifics up to Marinette to decide. I'm guessing that she'll probably go for some sort of massage , though, after all of the time she's spent bent over her sewing machine lately." At the rate they were going, both of them were going to have aching backs like a pair of elderly grandparents before they got back to London. He had seen her stretching and twisting like he did whenever his back got stiff, and more and more frequently. "Have you been? Any suggestions?"

"I like the traditional massage, but then again that's the only one I've ever done." Sarah grinned. "So maybe I'm not the best person to ask. And I've only done it twice, since that place is expensive. But it was great."

"Fabulous." Adrien couldn't help but smile as well. Hopefully Marinette would like her present. "So, what time do you think would work best on Saturday?"

The last piece of the commissions was finished Friday afternoon and mailed three minutes before the post office closed, and the last of the edits for the last album cover was sent off several hours later. Once it was sent off, Marinette collapsed in bed and just slept for a solid fifteen hours. Adrien did his best to not wake her up either when he went to bed or when he got up Saturday morning, though he did fetch his heated rice pack and arrange it on her back for her both times in hopes that it might help alleviate some of the pain that she was getting from being hunched over her sketchpad (or her tablet, or her sewing machine) for so long.

"Ah, she lives!" Adrien announced with a grin when Marinette stumbled into the kitchen mid-morning, yawning widely. "Happy birthday, Bug."

"Mm-hmm." Marinette yawned again and hugged him. Adrien tried not to laugh as she snuggled into his chest.

"Are you seriously still tired?"

"No making fun of the birthday girl," Marinette informed him. "'S not nice."

Tikki giggled. "But Marinette, you've been sleeping forever! Do you even know what day it is anymore?"

For a moment, Marinette looked truly alarmed. Then Tikki giggled, and Marinette pouted as she swatted at her kwami. "Don't joke like that! I thought I had slept for an entire day for a minute!"

"Technically, if it were Sunday, you would have slept for a day and a half," Adrien teased, dodging his own swat. "And I wouldn't have said anything about your birthday, either."

"Ooh, you're being terrible," Marinette grumbled, but she kissed him anyway. "So what are we doing today?"

"Besides sleeping, you mean- ah! I yield, I yield!" Adrien yelped, dancing away from a pouting Marinette. "Well, I was making mac 'n cheese for lunch, and then we can do your favorite Greek place for dinner? It sounds like some of your team members want to join us for that."

Marinette perked up. "Really? We did lunch last year, but I thought maybe we wouldn't this year since my birthday is on the weekend."

"So you didn't even mention it?" Adrien asked incredulously. "I said something to Sarah and she immediately started asking around to see if people could come. She said that someone named Lily wouldn't be able to make it because she was going home to see her parents, but the others could come."

The first part of the day went by fast enough (probably because Marinette had slept through most of it), and then they were heading down the sidewalk towards the restaurant. Adrien carried his present for Marinette (wrapped in festive paper) in the bag hanging at his side, just in case the opportunity came up to give it to her while they were at dinner. Sarah had texted them to say that she and several others were already at the restaurant, holding a table so that they wouldn't find themselves standing around waiting during the diner rush.

"I actually first ate here for Ellen's birthday last summer," Marinette told him as Adrien ushered her in the restaurant's door in front of him. At his slightly puzzled look- who was Ellen, again?- Marinette explained. "She was an intern last year, but now she's working at some fashion house up in Glasgow, I think. It was closer to where she grew up, so she could see her family more often."

"Aha."

"Oh, look, there they are!" Marinette exclaimed, pointing. Adrien glanced over and saw six people sitting around a series of tables pushed together in the middle of the room. He recognized most of them, either from other dinners together or from ducking into Marinette's workplace. Only two of them were guys, which surprised Adrien slightly. He had always gotten the impression from his father that there were a good number of aspiring male fashion designers as well, nearly as many as women designers, but Marinette's team was apparently skewed two guys to six women.

"There's a lot of women on your team, aren't there?" Adrien asked Marinette as they headed towards the table. "Is that typical?"

Marinette shrugged. "Yeah, at least at Madam Rosalie's place. Her aesthetic is just something that draws more women than men, I guess." She giggled. "We design practical stuff for women, that's probably a deciding factor. A lot of men don't tend to think about things like pockets and bra straps when they're designing tops and dresses, and that's fine in some companies. Not for Madam Rosalie's, though."

"Happy Birthday, Marinette!" the table chorused as they approached. Marinette turned a bit pink as all of the attention turned to her, and several people from other tables turned as well to glance over. She didn't waste any time in settling down in one of the chairs that had been left open in the middle of the table and waving shyly to everyone. Shannon laughed.

"Don't go turning so shy on us! Man, is it ever a good thing we hadn't gotten the chance to ask the servers if they ever sing to people on their birthdays."

"Oh, don't tease her like that," Mrs. Kelley scolded playfully. "And happy birthday, dear. I'm glad you chose this place. It's my favorite, too."

Even with as busy as the restaurant was, it didn't take long for them to order and for a couple appetizer plates to arrive. The eight of them laughed and talked as they waited for their meal to arrive, and Adrien learned more about everything that was going on at Madam Rosalie's. With the spring Fashion Week done and a number of photoshoots for late spring and early summer done, they were in a bit of a lull now, getting final polishes done on the spring lines and little details cleaned up before they could move on to proper summer designs. Pieces from photoshoots and runway had to be put away, and shoes and repeat accessories sold off. They had to communicate with the manufacturer how to make specific pieces so they would match what was shown in the catalogue, and then the fabric room had to be reorganized so that the heavier-weight fabrics and more wintery colors were put away until fall and the light cottons and silks and pale-colored fabrics more common in summer were brought forward for easier access.

"I kind of just want to go driving into the scraps and fabric ends bin and see what I could make out of some of that stuff," Emily admitted. "Like, just make something crazy, something I would wear but that might not sell really, really well. I've seen patchwork dresses before and I would love to make one. Or five, or ten, or-"

Shannon was laughing. "Okay, okay, we get it," she teased. "But honestly, I think it would be fun to just go bin-diving some time and then have some quality alone time with the fabric and a sewing machine, just to see what would come out. There's some crazy variety in the fabrics in there."

Adrien couldn't help grinning and shaking his head at the number of agreements from around the table. He would never stop being amazed by how creative designers could be, creating endless variations on dresses and shirts and skirts and jackets and everything, and on such a regular basis, too. If he saw a bin of leftover fabric, he would think quilt, or maybe...uh...

Yup, that was it. A quilt or maybe a pillowcase cover. Creative, he was not.

"I might be able to persuade Madam Rosalie to let you guys scavenge the bins," Mrs. Kelly offered. "I know she's mentioned before how full it's getting, and with the bit of a lull before we really have to dive into the summer stuff. We might have to put it aside at a moment's notice to do actual work, though."

There was a cheer around the table.

Dinner arrived shortly, and they all dug in. Adrien had to swat Marinette's fingers away she tried to swipe a slice of pita bread from his plate, and then the second his back was turned to talk to Justin, the pita bread piece mysteriously vanished.

Adrien sighed and stole a bite of her spinach-feta pie in retribution.

It didn't take long for them to finish their meal, even with all of the talking and laughter among the group. They ordered dessert, and while they were waiting Mrs. Kelly passed a colorful bag down the table to Marinette.

"We all pitched in to give you a little something for your birthday," she told Marinette. "And I might have done a small amount of digging in the ends bin, too."

Grinning, Marinette took the bag and pulled it down into her lap to peer into the large bag, The first thing she pulled out was a clear bag of what looked like fairly common sewing supplies- a set of white pens, rotary cutter blades, and three seam cutters, plus what was apparently a sharpening stone for her scissors. Adrien was puzzled- surely Marinette's coworkers knew that she already had stuff like that, and she had gotten some similar stuff from her parents at Christmas- but Marinette seemed thrilled.

"Oh, this is great!" she was exclaiming, digging through the bag. "My marking pens are all practically dry after all that leather from the commissions, and I swear every blade I own is pretty dull. And I can always use more seam rippers!"

"Yes, I know," Sarah told her dryly. "Considering that you told me that you own five and yet it still took you five minutes to track down any of them whenever we needed one."

...ooookay, so maybe he didn't have a great idea of what designers did and didn't need, despite being the son of one and dating another. Huh.

Maybe he should start taking notes.

The next thing to come out of the bag was a small iron and something rolled up in a tube. Marinette inspected the packaging and then grinned. "A travel iron and roll-up ironing mat! That's great!"

"We figured that a small iron would mean that you would be able to take it back to Paris once you're done in London," Abbey explained. "And it's useful for travel, too, if you need to iron something on the go but don't want to haul along a big iron. And that's a good brand, I have one just like it."

"Thank you!" Marinette exclaimed. "This is great. My old iron at home died right before I came over to London, so I'll definitely be using this all the time."

"And you'll be able to do your printed shirts whenever you want," Sarah pointed out. "Travel irons might be smaller than normal, but they don't lack anything in power."

Grinning, Marinette dug into the bag one last time, and pulled out several pieces of folded cloth. Adrien had been around designers for long enough to be able to tell that the pieces were probably no larger than half a meter (or a meter at most), but they were fun colors and clearly quality fabric. Adrien couldn't tell just by eyeballing the fabric if there would be enough for Marinette to make a shirt or skirt- he had no idea what kind of yardage was needed for anything, really- but judging by the gleam in Marinette's eyes, she probably already had plans.

"Oh, I loved working with this fabric!" Marinette exclaimed as she thumbed through the folded pieces. "This is great! Thanks, guys!"

There was a chorus of "You're welcome"s from around the table as Marinette packed her gifts back into her bag for easy carrying. While she was distracted, Adrien slid his present onto the table in front of her. It was a small box, not at all like the large bag that Marinette's coworkers had gotten her, but Adrien wouldn't let the difference in size bother him.

After all, great things could come in small packages, and he was sure that Marinette would love it.

Marinette blinked in surprise when she glanced back up and saw the package in front of her. It only took her a second to see the tag and glance over at Adrien with a questioning look before starting to unwrap it. The first thing she pulled out was a cute bird-shaped patchwork pincushion. Marinette groaned.

"Adrien!"

Adrien grinned as everyone around the table looked on in confusion. "What?"

"Still?"

"It was a good idea!"

"I'm lost," Abbey admitted. "What's wrong with it? That's a really cute pincushion."

"It's part of a joke," Marinette told the rest of the table, trying not to laugh. "It wouldn't make sense out of context, but he's been getting me something bird-themed for every holiday ever since Christmas."

Emily grinned at them. "So... just Christmas and now, or for Valentine's Day, too?"

Marinette froze, deer-in-the-headlights look on her face, and floundered. Adrien froze for a moment as well, then recovered and tried for some of that tried-and-true Chat Noir charm and smoothness. "Well, you know, it was an opportunity to give gifts, so I did."

"Well, it is pretty," Sarah told them, though she was grinning widely as well. "I don't know where you find stuff like that."

Adrien grinned at the opening that she had just handed him and Marinette groaned, burying her face in her arms. "Well, I had to do a bit of hunting, but I was happy with my catch in the end."

"I regret everything."

"You know it's funny."

"Is there something else in the box, Marinette?" Sarah asked, craning her neck to peer into the box. She glanced over at Adrien. "It looks like there's a brochure or something."

Marinette reached back into the box and pulled out the Bath spa brochure. Adrien had stuck a Post-it with the information for what day he had gotten the train tickets for and that he would pay for entry and whatever treatment she wanted. He had made sure to call ahead to check that there wouldn't be any groups taking up the spa and that there were treatment package spaces still available, so they wouldn't get to Bath and discover that they couldn't get in because something was reserved.

That would have stunk if that happened, especially since they had to have train tickets and Marinette would have to take a day off.

"I remembered that we had talked about going there last time we were in Bath," Adrien told Marinette. "And it would be a chance to relax after the last few weeks."

Marinette was grinning as she flipped through the brochure. "I love it!" Then she laughed. "I like the white-out over the prices. Very subtle."

Adrien grinned. "Yeah, I thought so too." He hadn't wanted Marinette obsessing over the prices and just trying to pick what might be cheapest over what she actually wanted to try. While yes, some of the spa packages were maybe a little expensive, it was hardly as though he couldn't afford it. He had years of modeling payments saved up, plus what he had earned the past summer with his job, and he only really had groceries as an expense at the moment thanks to his father paying for everything else. "So, does that work for you, going on Monday?"

"I already got it cleared with Madam Rosalie," Sarah piped up, grinning at Marinette's startled look. "She said to tell you to have fun."

"Well, I was already thinking about taking an extra day off next week to relax and get my head back on straight after all of those commissions and photoshoot week," Marinette admitted, a smile on her face as she flipped the brochure over again to look at one of the pictures. "So this is just, like, an upgrade of that day. Thanks, Adrien! I can't wait!"

It was mid-morning by the time Adrien and Marinette arrived at the train station on Monday, loaded down with bags packed with their swimming things and a light lunch. Marinette had left both her tablet and her sketchbook at their apartment after several minutes of consideration, admitting that if she brought either along, the idea that she should be looking for design inspiration would be in the back of her head the entire time.

"I feel like I've done nothing all weekend," Marinette admitted as they found their seats and settled in for the ride. "I haven't designed anything, the only reason I touched my sewing machine was to unplug it and get it covered so that it wouldn't get all dusty, and I haven't cleaned things up from my commissions at all. And I haven't responded to anyone on the wait list yet."

"Doing nothing is a good thing sometimes," Adrien reminded her, and he could see Tikki nodding in agreement just inside Marinette's bag. "You'll get creative burnout if you keep going at the rate you were going, and that's no good if you're in the middle of a commission. Add on to that the fact that it would affect you at work, too, and that wouldn't look good."

"No, it wouldn't," Marinette agreed. The train gave a small shudder as it started up, and then they were slowly starting to pull away from the station. "It helped- creatively, I mean- that what I was designing for commissions and what I design at Madam Rosalie's are so different in style, but there's only so many ideas I can come up with in a short amount of time."

The train picked up speed, and their conversation turned towards the upcoming holiday. Marinette was looking forward to going home, even if she would doubtless be spending at least a day working in the bakery. The stuff she helped with- the decorations, mostly- were apparently mindless work for her and were all but automatic after so many years and hundreds upon hundreds of similar treats decorated in just the same way. Adrien would be doing fittings, photoshoots, and commercials (what a surprise), leaving him with only odds and ends of time left to meet up with Alya and Nino.

Well, odds and ends and Thursday evening, when the newspaper contest people were hosting an awards dinner where the winners would be announced. They had learned the previous week that Alya had gotten past the semi-finalist pool and into the finalists, and she had invited them to join herself and Nino for the dinner since her parents weren't able to make it. Of course, both Adrien and Marinette had accepted. It would be a good time to be able to see their friends for an extended period of time, and if Alya won they would be able to celebrate with her.

And if she didn't win... well, they would be there to distract her, then. At least for a couple days.

"I think Ladybug and Chat Noir should make a short appearance if Alya wins," Adrien said as the train slowed for their stop. He scooped up their bags and pulled Marinette to her feet. "Not at the dinner itself, probably, since it'll be hard to excuse ourselves without it being obvious. But afterwards, once we've all gone home for the night."

Marinette grinned. "I think that would be a great idea! And it would be fun to go out for a run either way. It's been way too long."

It had been. Adrien's legs were itching to go out and run- he could tell that he had lost some muscle tone without his superhero activities and at some point, his photographer was going to notice as well.

Maybe he should look into getting a gym membership of some sort. It wouldn't be as much fun as going out as a superhero, but it would be better than not getting that energy out just because the moon was out or the weather was poor. It might also help him with his back problem if he spent more time moving and less sitting, since the problem seemed to be with him spending too much time sitting hunched over at a desk.

They headed down the sidewalk towards the spa, bags slung over their shoulders. They barely had to wait at all to pay for their passes. Marinette had picked out a couple's package that included a massage and a meal, a choice Adrien heartily approved of. He had once learned how to do a bit of a shoulder massage, but Marinette had gotten so tense over the past few weeks that having a professional work their magic would be much better. He had booked their treatment as soon as Marinette decided on it Saturday evening, and the massage would fall about halfway through their spa time.

"Oh, that's expensive," Marinette murmured immediately when the price came up. "Adrien-"

"Nope, you didn't see anything," Adrien teased her, sliding one hand over her eyes while he handed over his credit card to pay. "And honestly, it's not that much if you take everything into consideration. It's passes for four hours for two people, plus a meal for both of us, plus a massage for both of us. It would cost more if we got all of that separately."

"I don't need a massage-"

"But you wanted one and you're getting one, and it'll feel wonderful." Adrien signed the receipt and tucked his credit card back in his wallet and took the receipt and the bracelets the cashier handed him. He slid one on Marinette's wrist and the other on his own before urging her forward. He glanced at the receipt, checking the times on it. "We'll have some time in the pools first to unwind a bit, and then we'll have the massage. Now c'mon, let's go get changed."

"What about us?" Plagg wanted to know, peering out of Adrien's bag. "Do you expect us to stay in your bags for- what? Six hours, with the massage and the lunch and the pool time? That's forever."

Adrien sighed, poking Plagg back into the bag before anyone could see him. "No, you can go out as long as you don't get spotted and as long as you don't completely pig out in the kitchen. And if you aren't back by the time we leave, we'll hang around outside so we don't get charged for the extra time. Tikki, can you keep an eye on the clock once it's about time for us to leave?"

Tikki popped out, beaming up at him. "Don't worry, Adrien! I'll make sure we're back before your time runs out. And if we get too far from you, we'll know anyway."

Once again, Adrien couldn't be more thankful for Tikki. The little kwami could keep even Plagg in line so that Adrien wouldn't spend the whole time worrying about what trouble Plagg might be getting up to.

Once they had changed, the two of them wasted no time in heading down to the main pool area. Adrien hung back to let Marinette slid into the water first with a happy sigh (and no, he was not just doing that for the view), then followed.

Ahh. Oh, Adrien could see why people might come back here frequently. The warm water was heavenly, and the lazy tendrils of steam rising up from the water made the whole scene feel a bit surreal. There weren't a ton of other people in the pool, but the drifting steam obscured most of them from view, making it feel even more private.

Adrien just had to remember that it wasn't completely private and he couldn't kiss Marinette or flirt ridiculously. He could manage that. Probably.

"Oh, I like this." Marinette was already paddling around, flipping over to float on her back. "Best birthday gift ever."

"I hope you know that I'm doing my best to stop myself from splashing you," Adrien informed her with a grin. "But I figured that it wouldn't be very relaxing."

"Rude."

"Hey, I said I wouldn't do it!"

Marinette rolled back over onto her stomach to grin over at him. "Uh-huh. And I'm just supposed to trust you?"

Adrien pouted at her and reached through the water to snag her hand so he could press a kiss to her knuckles. "But of course, my lady! What do you think I am, a ratty alley cat?"

Marinette pasted on an overly thoughtful face, and Adrien laughed.

The two of them drifted between pools and even ventured over to try out one of the steam rooms. Adrien saw a couple people giving them lingering looks- apparently some people recognized him, and maybe Marinette as well- but the spa's ban on bringing phones or cameras into the pool area meant that no one was snapping pictures of him pulling faces at Marinette while she paddled in circles around him or both of them wandering around the spa together.

"I'm going to turn into a raisin by the time we leave, but I'll love every minute of it," Marinette told Adrien as they pulled themselves out of the pool to head over to where they were supposed to check in for their massage. "I'm so much more relaxed already."

"Hopefully this will relax you even more." Adrien guided Marinette around a corner with one hand on her back. "Your parents won't be happy with me if you go home with an aching back because you overworked yourself."

Marinette giggled. "What, did they tell you to keep me from overworking myself? They're so overprotective sometimes."

"They had me promise to try to keep you from overworking yourself when I got your sewing machine back in the fall," Adrien told her. "Which I failed to do, by the way, because someone didn't ever mention to me that she was absolutely buried in work. Which reminds me- I meant to ask Tikki why she didn't say anything, but I keep forgetting."

Marinette cringed. "Yes, well... I thought I had it under control, until I didn't. And I won't let it happen again. I'll only accept one commission at a time to work on, and I'll give myself really long deadlines. That way, I only need to do a little bit of work per night. I can be finished for the evening when you're done with your homework, or even before, and I can work on my own projects too if I want. And I'm going to take a break before I start anything else. I want designing to be fun again."

Adrien couldn't help but grin. He had hoped that Marinette would say that, but he hadn't been able to help worrying that Marinette would want to do two commissions at a time, or otherwise push herself to do as many commissions as possible without overwhelming herself just to get her resume and portfolio built up. He just hoped that she would keep the same attitude even months in the future, when the piles of commissions and late nights and her aching back were just distant memories.

"And promise me that you'll work on not sitting for so long that you hurt your back when you're doing schoolwork," Marinette said, looping her arm through Adrien's. "I wasn't the only one overworking myself in the past couple months."

"I promise," Adrien said immediately. "I just took Ben's advice too literally about the papers for classes this semester. He told me that too when he proofread everything before midterms, that I tried to shove three-quarters of a semester's work into a quarter of the time. He's making me suggested timelines again for next year's classes, since he's taking them now, and I've gotten strict instructions to stick to that schedule, or at least not get more than a week ahead." He made a face as a thought occurred to him. "But I'll have to find someone else to read through my essays for grammatical errors for me, since he'll be graduating. So I might try to be a couple weeks ahead of schedule- but nothing like what I did this semester, I swear!" he added quickly when Marinette gave him a displeased look. "It's just that since other people will be busy with their own projects at the same time I have stuff due, I'll need to have mine ready to proofread a little early. Or I'll try to find another proofreader from the tutoring center."

"And you'll remember to take breaks?"

"I'll take breaks to get up and stretch and walk around a bit," Adrien promised. "No more sitting for hours on end and only getting up if I want something to eat- or if Plagg wants to eat. I know the problem was that I was sitting for too long instead of getting up and moving around, because when I was younger I always had to do homework between akuma attacks and photoshoots and my other activities so I couldn't just be getting up and doing other stuff all the time. But enough about that- ready for our massage?"

It was two very relaxed and loose superheroes who left the spa several hours later, muscles freshly massaged and hair still damp from the pools. Plagg and Tikki had managed to return to their bags while Adrien and Marinette changed into their street clothes, so there was no need to wait around before they headed back towards the train station.

"I've never been so relaxed in my life," Marinette said happily, bumping up against Adrien's side as they walked. She stretched, bending backwards before continuing to walk. "It's hurt to bend like that for weeks, but now it's fine again."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." They paused at a street corner to let a car pass before crossing. "I'm glad that you picked that package. We got plenty of time in the pools, plus the massage, plus the meal. Totally worth it."

Getting on the train and sitting in the less-than-comfortable seats there was a bit of a shock after the uber-comfortable spa chairs, but Adrien wasn't going to let it bother him. Next to him, Marinette nodded off ten minutes into the ride, her head pillowed on his shoulder.

All in all, it had been a wonderful day and a very successful birthday present. Adrien wished that he wouldn't have to head back to Paris so early the next day, so he could have more time to spend with Marinette now that they were both so relaxed and ache-free. But he supposed that Marinette would be at work for the next couple days, and he would be earning money to replace what he had just spent (and then some) with his modeling, even if it wasn't the most enjoyable work in the world for him.

Smiling, Adrien settled back into his seat and adjusted Marinette's head against his shoulder. Perhaps they wouldn't get to have quite as much time together post-spa as he would have wanted, but he wasn't going to let that tarnish the time that they did get to spend together before he had to go back to Paris.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #How to Fake a Marriage #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng

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never-ending-wip · 6 years ago

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Chapter 1

Another one of my works in progresses is realistic fiction (I think idk). I decided to post the first part of it Warnings: Swearing, child abuse, kidnapping, underage prostitution (doesn’t go into details), sexual comments

I tried my hardest to stay in this house. I really did. Everything was great. The dad cooked every day. He even packed me lunch. The mom didn't seem to like me a lot. She would really just ignore me which is fine. But there I was in the backseat of my social worker's car heading to god knows were.

“You were doing so well Val. They were even talking about adoption. You just had to go and ruin it.” Mr. Davidson looked at me from the front seat. They had mentioned adoption but I didn't think they were serious. No one wants to adopt a 16-year-old. Especially one that they called a “violent animal” after one fight. The mom even slapped me.

“I didn't even start the fight, that bitc-”

“Valentina,” Mr. Davidson warned. “The other girl almost had to go to the hospital. Just be lucky her parents didn't press charges.” No, they didn't instead, they got me expelled. She was faking half the injuries anyway. I only go to hit her twice.

I stayed quiet this time. I have to learn to stay quiet in front of Mr. Davidson. He could ruin my life in a second. My silence only lasted 10 minutes tho.

“Have you heard anything from Alex?” I tried to act casually. Like I didn’t really want to know, but really I would do anything to see my brother again.

“Not in over a year Valentina. Do you really believe he's coming back for you? He's 26. If he was going to get custody of you he would have done it by now.” I wanted to shout at him. To tell him he was wrong. But instead, my hands clenched harder around my trash bag. My nails made a small tear. There was no way Alex abandoned me. He was probably just in trouble again. That's what happened last time he disappeared for this long.

“Fine can you at least tell me where we are going?”

“A small town called Kibly. The family’s nice and the best I could do with the time I had.” I nodded. I'm not sure what I expected, this was a last minute emergency placement. They were never good. “If you get kicked out again I won't hesitate to put you in a group home. Do you understand?” I nodded once again.

An hour later Mr. Davidson parked the car. The house was small with only one story. One of the windows was boarded up with wood. The whole front yard was overgrown and had random chairs and broken shit was just thrown around. No, I couldn't do this again. Mr. Davidson was getting out of the car but I didn't move.

“Can I try my chances at a group home?” I asked only half joking. I'd rather go to a group home that another one of these houses. At least there I knew the rules and that they’ll have to feed me.

“Valentina, get out of the car,” he practically growled. I listened, clenching my bag to my chest. We walked to the front door and Mr. Davidson rang the doorbell. A few seconds later the door flung open revealing a lady probably in her mid-30s. She had blonde hair, but her brown roots were showing. Her skin looked orange from a fake tan. She was wearing a crop top, short shorts, and a choker. she also looked slightly high.

“Hello, Bella. This is Valentina. She’ll start school tomorrow and is already set up..” Mr. Davidson kept on talking but I blocked it out. At one point Mr. Davidson left and I was in the rundown house. The inside was just as bad as the outside. The entrance led to a living room, which had a beaten up couch, beer bottles all over the floor and trash on the coffee table. There was a nice enough looking TV but then I realized it was cracked and probably stolen. There might have been a computer on a desk in the corner but I couldn't see it with all the papers and trash.

“Listen, kid, your rooms the last door to the right.” Bella pointed to a short hallway that had four doors. “If I were you I would stay in there at all times. And don't disturb my husband, Henry. He should be in his way home from work with some of his poker buddies, and he doesn't like his games being interrupted.” I shrugged. I already knew the drill in homes like these, Listen to rules and don't show emotion. If you show any sign of resistance or wine in any way, well you might leave with a few bruises.

I went into the bedroom. If you can call it that. it might have once been a really small office space or a large closet. A twin size air mattress with a pillow and blanket threw onto it sat in a corner. That took up the majority of the room, only leaving a foot of space between the bed and the wall it wasn't touching. There was a window but it was one of the windows boarded up with wood. Great. I threw my trash bag onto the bed and sat down next to it. The air mattress sunk under me. My watch told me it was six. If I planned on going to school tomorrow I’ll need new school supplies. My old foster family didn't let me take any of the things they bought for me. I pulled on an old red hoodie from my bag and dug through to my emergency cash. I only had $30. I took ten even though that meant I wouldn't be able to get everything I need.

I shoved the money in my pocket and left the ‘room’. As I walked down the hall I heard laughter. Shit, the husband must be home. I poked my head to see if there was a way out. There where four men in the living room. I'd have to walk right past them to leave the house. I was about to slowly back up and see if the window in the bathroom opens, but I was already spotted.

”Hey Harry, whos the kid?” one of the men asked. I stepped out of the hall knowing that there was no point in turning back.

“That must be the foster kid. Bella’s friends a social worker. We get a lot of cash from her. Girl what's your name,” A guys, who I can assume is Bella's husband Harry, barked. He was swaying slightly in his seat and holding a half-empty beer bottle.

“Valentina,” I answered. I didn't make any eye contact but I tried to stand up tall and just walk past them. My back was turned to them when a voice stopped me.

“Where do you think you're going?” Henry asked when I started to move to the door.

“Look at that ass,” Another guy slurred after whistling. The others chuckled. I immediately turned to face them. I shoved my hands in my sweatshirt pocket and gripped the ten dollars. At least the sweater I was wearing was baggy and not revealing like the t-shirt under it. I tried to just turn around and leave again but someone grabbed my arm. It was Harry.

“I asked you a question bitch,” He growled right in my face. I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I have to get school supplies,” I explained.

“We can give you some money,” one of the guys suggested.

“Oh yes all you have to do is entertain us a little,” another said. Harry seemed to like this idea since he smirked and pushed me into the center of the living room.

I left the house an hour later with five ones stuffed in my bra. I moved it to my pocket.

By some miracle, I found a Walmart after about a half an hour of wandering. The sun was already starting to set as I entered the store. I grabbed a basket and went straight to the school supplies. It was the end of the year so there wasn’t a lot of school stuff.

My basket had a small $7 backpack, 2 notebooks, and a folder. I had a pack of pencils in my sweater pocket. They were expensive okay. After tax, I should have a dollar left. It’s enough to maybe buy chips at school tomorrow. That might be all I eat if I don't have free or maybe reduced lunch.

The sun was probably setting outside and there was no way I could find a way back to the house.

Luckily I had a plan. My eyes searched the aisle until they caught a girl about My age a few feet away. She was gorgeous. I could only see half of her face but her skin was a beautiful dark brown and her hair was up in a bun. She could see that she is proudly wearing a rainbow bracelet. That means she’s either an “I love unicorns and rainbows” girl or gay. Judging by her flannel shirt and serious demeanor It's safe to assume the latter. Perfect. It's so much easier to flirt with a girl than with a guy.

I slipped off my sweater and wrapped it around my waste. I was wearing a tank top since it was hot earlier. It was wearing a crop top since it was hot earlier. That will come in handy now.

I walked over to where she was standing and picked up a pack of led pencils that were way above my price range. As I went to place them back I ‘Accidentally’ dropped my entire basket. The little stuff I had scattered across the aisle.

“Shoot,” I muttered, deciding not to swear so I can keep an ‘innocent damsel in distress’ look. Apparently, it worked because when I kneeled the girl did as well. She helped me gather everything and put it in the basket. “Thank you so much!” I tried to make the gratitude not sound forced. I’ve been told that I'm a scary good liar. I could feel her eyes on me, looking me up and down. I usually would feel grossed out, but I didn't with her.

“It’s no problem. I don’t think I've seen you around, and I usually know all the pretty girls in town,” she smirked and her eyes found their way back to mine. Wow, she really wasn’t holding back, and her voice was beautiful. My cheeks turned a slightly pink and broke eyes contact, instead looked at her lips while slightly biting on mine. All of this was, of course, part of the act. I never act this embarrassed when someone's actually flirting with me, well at least I never show it.

“Oh I just moved here,” I said quickly making eye contact and smiling.

“Are you going to Kibly High? If so I’d love to be the one to show you around.” she winked and moved closer to me. Wow, I know that I’m good looking but this girl is making things so easy. I didn't know what school I was going to but these towns small so there's no way it has more than one public high school.

“Yeah, I am. I’m a little nervous. I’ve never been the new kid before.” I've told this lie a million times. Always looking shy and sweet each time.

“Don't worry everyone is really nice,” she said inching closer. There was a small awkward silence. Shit, I had to think of something to say.

“If they are anything like you then that’s not hard to believe,” I said looking down at my feet with another fake blush.

“Well I can't promise that they are as nice as me.” she winked. I giggled. “I'm Mia by the way.”

“I’m Valentina, but you can call me Val,” I inched closer as well. I didn't tell her a fake name just in case we did end up going to the same school. There was less than a foot between us and Mia was looking down at me. I hadn’t realized how tall she was. I didn't look her in the eye instead, I stared at her lips while I nibbled on my own.

“Well, Val how about we get out of Walmart and go somewhere a little more... interesting.” Her voice was low. Our heads were so close and I thought she was about to kiss me, but instead of going to my lips her mouth was next to my ear. “I would love to be the first to show you around town.”

“Sur sure let's just um let's go and pay,” I didn't even have to fake the stutter. Why did I have to pick a hot one? It's going to be so much harder when she finds out half the stuff I said a lie. Mia backed away smiling at me.

“Of course,” Mia chirped as she grabbed my hand. “Do you have everything?”

Our lips were connected as soon as we were in the car. We didn't even bother with pretending we were planning to drive. Both of us were in the backseat where the windows were tinted. Mia’s knees were on either side of my leg’s while we kiss. It was one of the best make-out sessions I've ever had.

It didn't last long. After a moment the doors on either side of us swung open. I was ripped away from Mia. something cold was placed against my temple and a hand was over my mouth. I looked at Mia and saw a masked man holding her tight with a gun to her skull and a cloth to her mouth. Her eyes were getting droopy. The same thing was probably happening to me just without the cloth.

“We are going to take you to the van. Any resistance and I’ll shoot. Understand?” I nodded, my eyes getting watery. The man with Mia just picked her up since she was passed out but the man holding me practically dragged me to a van right behind the car. It was the stereotypical black windowless van. Great, I’m going to die. He shoved me in the back and got in himself. Once inside the car jerked forward. Mia was placed on the ground while my arms were forced behind my back. What felt like plastic was wrapped around them. I was then forced to sit next to Mia’s body. I could see her breathing so at least I knew she was alive.

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fatass-verified · 4 years ago

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A lil update, mostly what I've been up to and future plans and whatnot

Oh well, how the turntables. Looks like I'm back, my phone is gone now, it turned off and won't turn on anymore so I'm using my old ass laptop again, I can't make any kind of posts or stories on instagram so I guess I'm gonna get back on here, I wanted to delete this one and make a new blog cuz I don't feel like going through the people I follow and weeding out people so my dash is good again but I also want my name so idk, maybe I'll start anew with a new identity and not even tell people this is my old blog lol idk we'll see, anyway idk if I can call this recovery, but basically I've stopped starving myself, and I'm trying my best not to binge eat anymore (and failing miserably, but at least my binges aren't that big so meh), but I've been wanting to get back on track and lose some weight since I'm literally almost back at my hw but I had very important exams these passed couple weeks so I've been eating enough to be studying aka too much cuz I can't get shit done unless I do it with a million other shit so I just blast music and text my friends and eat and keep drinking stuff the whole time whatever lol I'm rambling again, SO, I still got exams but I'm positive I can pull off the rest while starving I already finished the important ones so idrc about the rest, and I wanna start changing my relationship with food.

Me and food... It's a long story. Growing up not knowing whether this will be the last time you can afford this food you really like or food in general really while also not "owning" anything around you really fucks you up. I took my merry time trying to figure out why I'm like that with food and... I think that's why, I don't know if this will be the last apple I'm gonna eat, I didn't know that was the last bar of chocolate I was ever gonna have when I ate it and look, I haven't had another since ages cuz it's too expensive and rare to find in stores now, same goes for a lot of other stuff, not to mention that at home, nothing's really mine, I don't work cuz I just turned 18 five days ago so I couldn't work before and now we're in the middle of a pandemic AND an economic crisis so no way in hell I can find a job and I'm not even done with highschool let alone have any kind of degree or work experience... shit rambling again okay so what I was saying is that I don't make money, and my parents don't believe that I need allowance because they're buying me food so what do I need money for, which would be right if they saw that food as "mine", which they don't, I'm always getting shamed for eating the food even when they buy it for me, and when they do buy my favorite food I don't know if there'll be any left the next day cuz the could and probably will eat it, and then we don't have any more money left to buy more so I don't get any more... And yeah my logical brain tells me this is stupid, but that really IS the problem now that I've been thinking about it and working hard at noticing queues, when I know they don't like the food I have and want, I don't feel the urge to binge on it as much, and when I know I'll be able to buy more once I run out I also don't do it as much, add up to it that I'm expected to make sure I leave a bit for each one of them even if that means I can barely eat from the food they allegedly bought for ME and no one even considers me, and it's not just food it's everything but I'm not getting into this right now, like they'd buy food and make food for themselves and not give me any even when I'm around, and like deadass I'd wait for them for dinner multiple times so we eat together and they end up eating out together not only without me and without bringing me any, but also without telling me they're not gonna eat home when they know i'm waiting for them, so yes this has made me lose sense of safety around food I guess, and moving out to my grandma really helped with that actually, I'm glad I did that even tho my grandma is literally two steps away and I see them everyday and stuff it's still better than living there, it is a challenge to fast and exercise here but I'll make it work I'll figure it out.

Soo yeah now that I figured it out I feel it's easier for me to help myself, and I wanna relapse in starvation really really bad like y'all got no idea, and to be completely honest, I've only ever cut out one thing and it's sugary drinks, and I've done an amazing job at it I almost never have it anymore, and I really wanna add some stuff to the list, and I wanna start with my favorite, bread, which I've said is impossible my whole life cuz like 90% of my daily intake is bread, so it's gonna be tricky, but I really wanna cut it cold turkey like I did with liquid calories and animal products (okay the animal products one I can't take credit for it since it literally disgusts me now that I've done my research on the animal industry and veganism and whatnot) but I think this one is gonna be a bit more gradual, mainly cuz I don't want my grandma to notice much and I might slip up a couple times but I really wanna be able to say "oh I don't eat bread" one day, like not because of carbs and that bullshit but because I like it so much, and like liquid calories and bread... they're like essential to most people, so I guess people would be impressed knowing that I don't eat bread as much as it impresses them when I say "oh I don't drink x" or "oh yeah I never put sugar in my tea" or "oh yeah the only coffee I drink is black coffee"... weird ik lol, and I also wanna cut of fried food at some point, like I technically only eat fries when it comes to "fried food" but I wanna be able to cut it off as well, that would make me happy, a food that once used to have control over me doesn't even tempt me anymore... that's... that would be a dream come true. Hmmm what else, that's mainly it, I barely ever have chocolate or sweets anymore cuz of money so that's not a problem anymore so I'mma work on those first then I'll see what's next, maybe pasta? But then again I don't wanna be cutting out just carbs lol it's not intentional I just wanna cut off my favorite foods, okay maybe chips next, definitely chips next, even before the fries, I think I'mma do that starting now, we barely have chips but I really like it and have never had it without binging, sooo yeah I guess that's it. Anyway, this has been a long one, I'll definitely be posting more unless I decide to change my blog, soo yeah see y'all later

#meee

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mrspookyfox · 7 years ago

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A summary of weird things that live in my shop (long post)

As some of you might already know, I work in a kiosk, selling newspapers, candy and other assorted stuff. It's not a pathway to riches, nor a particularly exciting job, but at least is easy enough and I get to meet some nice people. There are, however, some quirks about my workplace that I'd like to share with you.

See, this locale is located in an old building, a relic from the town's Modernist period, restored and remodeled time after time. The kiosk itself has been open and working since before I was born, passing from one owner to the next along the years.

There has also been a couple of unhappy incidents in its past, but I'm not going to talk about them out of respect for the previous owners.

It seems that these kind of places with a long history behind them, where many visitors leave their impression, are prone to attracting certain kinds of phenomena. The person that worked here before me warned me about a couple of them, and I've discovered the others during the time I've spent here.

Before listing them, let me describe the place a bit; it will help you figuring out where and how each manifestation works, so bear with me for a while.

The kiosk itself, where I meet my customers, is a pretty big, square room. To the right, there is a shelf lined with magazines, a tobacco vending machine leaning against a pillar, and more shelves for school supplies, books and small toys. In the left wall you have a fridge with cold drinks, and racks crammed with bags of chips, candy, and assorted trash food. The key to a healthy lifestyle!

The front wall where the entry is located, is basically a big window, so the place is pretty well-lit during most of the day, and in the opposite wall, behind the counter, there are two doorways. One leads to the storage room, a small, cramped space where the lights only work half the time, and the other to a small office connected to the bathroom. Both are covered by those cheap curtains made of chains that hang to the floor. Those get caught everywhere and are a real pain to cross if you are carrying something big, but they are there for a reason you will see later.

Enough description! These are the... Beings that I have to deal with:

- The goblin: the previous owner told me about this one. It seems to be partially invisible most of the time, but I've managed to see his shadow a couple of times, and his hands once. It (he?) takes the shape of a child or a very small humanoid, around [1 m.] tall. He has a hole in the left hand, but it doesn't seem to affect its functionality. Other than that, you know he's around because of his muffled giggling or the effects of his pranks

The goblin usually manifests in the office, but sometimes also appears in the storage, or causes mischief in the shop at night, after I've left. He loves misplacing stuff (usually important stuff, like bills, or my keys) knocking things off their place, cutting the base of candy bags so the contents will spread everywhere when I grab them, and other assorted dickery. He's more mischievous than openly malignant, tho, and the previous tenant taught me a way to counter him: If he's being too obnoxious, toss a handful of something small (candies, paperclips, whatever you have lying around) to the floor and say something like "Count those, do something useful!" He will snatch them into his current hiding place and you will hear how they are dropped to the floor one by one, I guess because they fall through the hole in his hand as he tries to count them. After a while, he'll throw a small tantrum and remain unheard of for some days.

He also loves it when people swear, and if he's too active and there are no customers, I tend to let out a long stream of profanities as creative as I can manage. He seems to enjoy that enormously, giggling in his raspy voice, and behave for the rest of the day.

-The stuff in the bathroom: On rainy days, the bathroom is invaded by a moldy, damp smell (which is something quite mundane) and the sound of whimpers and chattering teeth coming from every drain ( which is definitely not)

-The mold woman: this is the other phenomenon that the old owner told me about, and he was absolutely TERRIFIED of her, although I haven't seen her manifest fully, so I can only count on his description.

She usually appears late, when it's dark, as a wet stain in the office wall, at face height. The stain grows slowly, but noticeably, dripping towards the floor and sprouting a blackish mold, until it starts taking the shape and dimensions of a tall, emaciated woman. If one gets close enough, a faint breathing can be heard. Supposedly, shortly after that, something will emerge from that stain, and my predecessor made me swear that I'll stay away from it at any costs. I couldn't make him tell me why. What he told me is that the thing cannot cross the chain curtains, for some reason; it is confined to the area of the office.

As I said, it appears after sunset, so most of the time I close before it even has time of manifesting fully. However, some specially busy winter days, when I had to stay later than my usual closing hours, I've sometimes heard that breathing coming from the darkened office, getting harsher. It's my cue to hurry up, close the shop, and run home without looking back.

- The tobacco lady: At first I thought this was a normal customer until I noticed that she never seems to use the door. She just pops into existence in front of the counter whenever I'm not looking. She appears as a middle aged woman with a tired expression. Her hair, teeth and clothes are the same shade of dirty yellow. She comes once or twice a week, very early in the morning, when it's still dark, and asks me to activate the tobacco machine for her. Then, she stays next to it, stroking it tenderly and moving her lips, as if whispering something. If I try to interact with her, or if somebody is about to enter and see her, she vanishes into thin air.

- Toothy : This one dwells in the storage room, and I have only caught glimpses of its face, so I don't know much about its appearance or if it has a body properly.

That face is like an abyssal creature, all eyes and teeth, and radiates a faint whiteish glow. Despite that appearance, it seems to be quite shy and curious, preferring to hide among a pile of empty boxes that I keep on the far side of the storage. Sometimes it cooes excitedly if I bring new stuff in to store.

-The moths: Some Tuesdays I arrive to the kiosk to find a perfect circle of dead moths right in front of the fridge. So now I leave the broom by the door before closing every Monday night.

-That Asshole: He has a real name, and I think I've figured it out, but I'm gonna call him That Asshole because I'm petty like that.

Like the Tobbaco Lady, he looks like a regular patron, more so in that sometimes I saw him through the window, walking down the street to enter the kiosk. However, when I asked the owners of other shops near mine (avoiding the spooky details, of course) none of them recogniced him. It seems that he only comes to visit me, so I guess he is just another of those beings linked to the kiosk.

He always takes the shape of a man, but other than that, his appearance, age, voice, or behaviour will be totally different from one visit to another, so it takes some time to recognize him for what he is. His goal is always the same, though: to get money from me.

Until now, he has never used violence to meet his goals. He poses as a homeless man asking for some coins, a salesman, a boy selling lottery... And he tries to trick me to give him money, usually a small quantity. He is a very good actor, convincing, and very, very persistent. It's almost impossible to make him leave without what he wants. And if he gets it...

If I pay him, he'll smile smugly, as if to let me know that he has tricked me, and leave. After that, if I check the cash register, any money I paid him will be back in there, and any stuff I bought from him will have become a pile of ashes. But worst of all: small wounds, like round, coin sized abrasions, will appear on my skin few minutes after his departure, usually on my hands and tights. The more money he got, the more wounds will appear. They are gone after a day, but itch like hell.

He started appearing seldomly, once a month or so, but his visits got slowly more frequent, until one week where he was coming every day, and sometimes twice a day, so the new wounds covered the old ones in my skin. Luckily, it was then when I finally found the way to outsmart him, and since then his visits are rarer, though he still tricks me from time to time.

See, he changes his shape every time he comes, but there are always some tells:

+His name will always be composed of certain syllabes rearranged differently, as if it was an acronym or an abbreviation of his true name. I'm trying to discover what that is, but for now I only know that is long as heck

+Similarly, any number that he identifies himself with (ID numbers, phone numbers, numbers printed in whatever he tries to sell) will be mostly combinations of the numbers 3, 9, and 27.

+Any knot that appears in his person (shoelaces, ties, braids, even patterns printed on his clothes) will be impossibly convoluted, even making one dizzy after looking at them for too long

+He has a slight limp on his right foot. Always. But he is very good at hiding it.

It took me a long time catching on these, but identifying him is only half the battle. Confrfronting him about his nature wont work, as he'll remain firmly in character and deny everything. However, what does work marvellously is shouting at him and chasing him off, preferibly with a blunt object at hand.

With time, I'm getting better at catching him in his games, trusting my senses to identify him without mistake.

Well... Almost. But that Avon salesman was kind enough to not sue me...

#creepypasta #I guess #just a collection of weird atuff #creepy #horror #fantasy #short story #horror story #tw: body horror

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