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makeste · 3 years ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OH MY GOD SUDDENLY THESE PEOPLE HAVE EYES IMAGINE THAT

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

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

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

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

-- SDKFJWIGKS

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

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

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

easy there Lizzie Borden

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

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

(ETA: or maybe not lmao.

DEKU: [falls to his knees]

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

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

also lowkey loving this OchaTsu moment here

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

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

oh my lord IT’S FINALLY HAPPENING

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

ffklkdw

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

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

SSDLHK AIZAWA SIGHTING AAHHHHHH

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

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

speaking of soft faces, Enji’s is also excellent

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

OMGGGG

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

SDOFFHSMH

I’m telling you guys. lethally, catastrophically cute

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

UNEXPECTED TOGA WHAT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-- son of a --

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

DEKU WHY

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

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

GIGANTIC FOX LADY!!!

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

!!!!

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

FOR THE LOVE OF --

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

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

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

#bnha 324 #uraraka ochako #midoriya izuku #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

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Closer | Bucky Barnes x reader

I wrote this for @mariessecretfantasies’ 500 follower challenge, took me forever but it’s done!! congrats on 500 love, although I bet (and hope) you’re well past that now.

my ‘prompt’ was a song, specifically Closer by Nine Inch Nails… so it’s filthy. purely filth, no plot. don’t say I didn’t warn you. special thanks to @evnscvll for the proofread!

warnings: SMUT of course, mild(?) dub con, d/s dynamics, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal sex, anal sex (and the prep is...not that good), ass-to-mouth (i’m literally blushing as I type this oml i’m so sorry), mentions of blood, slapping, spitting, degradation, semi-public sex, pain kink, and some other generally unhygienic behaviors… this isn’t a dark fic per se but it’s got 0 fluff. not even one ounce of fluff detected. definitely no aftercare lmao. ain’t nobody got time for that.

word count: a bit under 3k

He couldn’t drink anymore-- well, he could, but he couldn’t get drunk, so there was no use. Couldn’t get high on any drug, either. Pain didn’t affect him the way it did other people. But everybody has their vice, their way of hurting themselves to feel something when they can’t feel anything else. You were his, and he was yours.

You couldn’t even remember now how it started. There was definitely alcohol involved, but past that you weren’t sure what had compelled you two to stumble into bed together. Even at the time you had realized it was irresponsible and probably not worth the trouble, but it seemed inevitable in some weird way.

That was how it always felt, actually. Like tonight, when he met your gaze from across the bar. His eyes were so dark, demanding-- it made you shiver even though it only lasted for a moment before he looked away, pulled into conversation with Bruce. But you knew what it meant.

Didn’t matter anyhow; it was a big party, the whole crew and nearly all of the Tower staff were crawling the halls. There was no guarantee of privacy at a time like this.

You were chatting with Wanda when you felt a hand slip around your arm, pulling you back into somebody’s form-- of course you knew it was him, you could tell by the roughness of his skin, the smell of him, the way he pressed against your back…

“Can I speak to you privately for a moment?” Bucky requested with poorly-suppressed irritation, his lips almost pressed against your ear.

“S-sure,” you stumbled over your response. You got the sense that there wouldn’t be much speaking, but you couldn’t turn him down in front of these people without giving yourself away.

And that was how you ended up in a broom closet, pressed against the wall with his tongue dominating your mouth and his hands somehow feeling like they were touching you everywhere all at once.

“Buck, wait,” you managed to murmur against his mouth as his lips crashed into yours.

“Tired of waiting,” he growled in reply. “Turn around.”

You didn’t even think to question it, just obeyed his command blindly as he slammed you into the wall and began pushing your dress up, pulling your underwear aside.

“Not here,” you groaned.

“Shut up,” he hissed.

The absolute second that his cock was free he was shoving it between your legs and fucking you with unmatched speed and ferocity. It nearly burned, the way it forced you open, but it was exactly what you needed. You arched your back to accept his length more easily, your head falling back in pleasure. He responded by grabbing your hair and pulling it until your back arched even more.

“Oh god, Bucky,” you whimpered. In response, he slammed his hand over your mouth and fucked you even harder, as if it were punishment; he didn’t like when you said his name in times like this. He didn’t want to think about who he was, or who you were, or what the two of you were doing. He just wanted to feel you and nothing else.

Funny how a man who’d been unwillingly brainwashed actually craved the chance to forget.

His other hand moved from your hair and slipped down between your legs, roughly rubbing your clit as your hips bucked and thrashed in response. He held you still through it, biting down on your neck hard enough to make you worry about the skin breaking. But he knew by now that you liked the threat of pain, which is why he slipped his left hand down from your mouth to your neck. The sound of your breath halting to silence was so perfect that he had to bite his lip to keep from moaning.

Already your vision was spotting into darkness, starting at the corner of your eyes and moving in. As you lost your connection with the visual aspects of your reality, everything else became stronger, and it felt like you were somehow seeing better than ever.

He stopped thrusting and leaned closer to your ear. “When I let go of your neck,” he explained quietly, his voice dark and rough, “get on the floor on your hands and knees.”

He released his grip and your lungs sucked in air faster than they could handle, making you cough and sputter a little. Still, you turned around to begin following his instructions. You got a better look at him than you had before. His eyes were so blown out that they were nearly black, watching you with hungry rage. Or maybe it was raging hunger.

You felt his gaze follow you as you stepped around him, bending down and getting on the floor. It was cold and a little bit gritty, both of which made you shudder. You became aware of the wetness which had leaked from your opening, smeared over your thighs and made an uncomfortable patch on the edge of your panties. You didn’t have to worry about that much longer, though, as he kneeled behind you and ripped them off.

“Buck, I need those--”

He slapped your ass, with the vibranium hand. It was so hard that you perceived the sound before your body processed the pain. As you lurched forward, your squeal of pain tore and cracked in your throat, so much that you could barely recognize it as yourself.

One hand slid your dress up further, admiring the warmth and smoothness of your skin, two fingers running along your spine; the other guided his cock to your pussy again.

You weren’t quite ready, not exactly wet or warmed up enough for this angle. You were sure this was the most your body could take, if not a little bit more. The way he pushed into you-- ignoring the resistance of your inner walls, your skin breaking out into goosebumps, your arms and legs quivering-- put you entirely at his mercy. Just as you were about to cry out in response to it all, he roughly shoved three fingers into your mouth: flesh, sweaty and dirty, tasting slightly of scotch and gun oil. They pushed your cheeks out from the inside, stretched your chapped lips until they cracked and you tasted blood. You swirled your tongue around them anyways, ignoring the way it caused drool to lewdly drip down his hand and your chin.

He smiled, in a twisted way, as he looked down at you. “You need it so bad, don’t you?”

You nodded feverishly, groaning around his fingers and letting your eyes flutter shut.

He used the hand on your back to guide your movements, watching your body as it swallowed his length to the base. He could tell you were struggling with his size, and he was almost impressed with your fortitude. Unfortunately for you, it only made him want to push you further.

Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he grabbed your arms at your elbow and held them behind your back, using them to keep you upright as he slammed into you. Each thrust made your knees scrape on the concrete, and your shoulders were twisted into an awkward position that made your muscles burn, but you didn’t care. All it did was add tinder to the flame of pleasure.

Tears stung the back of your eyes. You always cried when he fucked you like this, and he either didn’t care or didn’t notice; it was just so intense, you couldn’t stop yourself. You would probably be bleeding when he was finally done with you, and you would definitely be sore (on the outside and inside) tomorrow.

“Gonna cry, bitch? Can’t take it?” he hissed. You always got wet when he talked like that. Then again, you got wet whenever he talked at all.

Your voice came out hoarse and cracked when you spoke. “Harder,” you barely managed to grit out through your teeth.

Instead what he did was pull out and flip you over, slapping you straight across the face. There was nowhere to hide from him now, with your legs spread and your clothes torn to shreds, so you didn’t even try to suppress the moan when he hit you. He grunted and hit you again, spinning your face the other way. You wanted to ask him to hit you again but he just shoved himself inside you again, putting his weight on your neck as he wrapped a hand around it. You couldn’t moan but you could arch your back; he pushed down on your stomach until you couldn’t do that anymore either, and it forced your g-spot to push right into his cock. You would’ve screamed if you could; it felt so fucking good, too good, too much all at once.

Who could say how long that went on for? It didn’t feel subject to time or space, it all just felt like sensation-- sensation which washed over you until you didn’t know how to experience anything else. So often our bodies feel like machines, slaves to routine. A body which must rise in the morning, rest in the evening; a mind which must toil over the past and worry for the future. Now, you didn’t even know your own name-- you didn’t even understand what a name was for. Your only purpose now, and your only goal, was to feel.

That was what you craved about this: the chance to forget about everything else.

At some point you were pulled back into reality by the way he was manhandling you, tossing you back onto your knees and pulling your body flush with his by your hair.

“Beg me to let you come,” he growled, but you couldn’t even think long enough to put a sentence together, let alone actually get it out. He bit down on your shoulder and you whimpered in pain.

“P-please,” you sighed-- it came out so quiet that even you could barely hear it. His teeth sunk in deeper; you tried to say it again but it was caught in your throat.

He pulled your head to the side by your hair, and slapped the half that was exposed. “Beg me to let you come,” he repeated, slower, “you dumb fucking whore.”

“Please… please, let me come,” you mumbled.

“Louder.”

You hesitated, about to remind him that the hallways outside probably had people passing through and someone might hear you, but your hesitation was rewarded only with more violence as he hit you again-- even harder than the last time. You yelped and bit down on your lip.

You hadn’t realized how weak you were until he let go and you instantly fell to the floor, your hips held up by his hands but your face pressed against the cold cement.

“You can come,” he decided, almost flippantly, as he fucked into you deeper and harder. It seemed like he knew your body better than you did: he made you come faster, for one, and he saw it coming sooner as well. It was slightly embarrassing, but then again, you were on your knees in a broom closet so that was sort of beside the point.

It seemed to hit you all at once, and with no sign of stopping. You reached up to claw at the wall but it did nothing to keep you stable as shocks reverberated through your body. You were about to space out again when you felt the metal tip of his thumb press against your tighter rim.

“W-wait,” you gasped, but he pressed in further and your words were lost to a whimper.

“Oh, you can’t play innocent with me, sweetheart. I know you want me to fuck this little ass. Go ahead, say it.”

“F-fuck my ass, please,” you begged. It sounded shameless, but there was certainly shame (and fear) tingling in your gut.

The thumb pushed in all the way, and before you could deal with the way that felt, it was replaced with two fingers. You hissed from the sting, but willed your body to relax as you fell back into that headspace and simply let everything happen to you.

The transition from two to three fingers was barely noticeable. But you definitely noticed when he pulled everything out of you, guiding the head of his cock higher up. He moved your hips closer as you went limp in his grasp-- a drooling, mindless fuckdoll who, apparently, spread your legs for him whenever he wanted. It was some undefinable mixture of demeaning and liberating.

His cock pressed against your opening, and when it finally pushed past the tightness with a nauseating pop, you bit your lip.

You almost felt prideful when you heard him moan; he was usually pretty quiet. How you managed to feel any sense of achievement or value when you were face down in a broom closet getting fucked up the ass… that was a different issue.

He didn’t give you much time to adjust as he picked up his speed, fucking you so much gentler than he ever did but still rougher than you were expecting, somehow. Each time he was buried all the way inside, you felt like you were miles beyond your body’s limits, fuller and wider than was possible. It made you wet, uselessly.

When he moved faster, his balls slapped against your pussy and you could hear how much you were loving this, even as disgusting and painful as it was. He leaned forward to push your face into the ground and fucked you harder. The new angle pushed him even deeper, opened you up even more brutally, and you couldn’t suppress a cry of pain.

“How’s it feel, huh?” he taunted.

“It hurts,” you told him with a voice much whinier than you intended, but you weren’t exactly complaining. And you definitely weren’t asking him to stop.

Not that you were worried that he would. If anything, it only inspired him to push you further as he grabbed your hips tight to slam you back onto his cock.

He didn’t announce that he was close, but you could just barely tell based on the way your hazy brain couldn’t ignore the rapid increase in his thrusts. A broken growl was your signal that he was filling you with come but you were too numb to feel any difference. He kept fucking you through it, only stopping once every drop was inside you. When he slowed to a stop you sighed with relief, wincing a little as he pulled out and trying to ignore the lewd way that your hole flexed and constricted. You felt his come leaking as it dripped down over your pussy, down your thighs and onto the floor.

The smell in this cramped space was inescapable, and putrid, and only now did you really become aware of it.

“Don’t just lay there,” he scoffed as he stood up, “come over here and get on your knees.”

At this point, you were so well-trained that you were obeying his words before you’d even processed them or taken the time to question what his intentions were.

You looked up at him with watery eyes as he stroked his cock right above your face. He was looking at you with the most uninterpretable expression… cold eyes, tightened jaw, lips curled into a grimace.

“Clean me off,” he demanded, shoving his softening length into your mouth, “come on, clean my cock off.”

You grimaced but did as he asked, sucking and licking as it slid down your tongue and back into your throat. Didn’t take much of him for you to start choking, considering his size.

“Breathe through your nose,” he offered as a solution, but you had been trying to avoid smelling or tasting it. You didn’t even want to think about it.

You even took the time to lick his balls clean, too, and they tasted like your own arousal, bringing back some memories which managed to disturb you in spite of their recentness. When he was satisfied, he pushed you back onto the floor by your throat, and you swallowed thickly.

As per usual, he said nothing as he stuffed himself back into his jeans, or as he made a hasty exit. When he shut the door behind him, you were left there used up and tossed aside; dress ruined, mascara smeared, panties torn, come seeping out of you, gasping for breath. You had no plan for getting out of here without everyone seeing you; you had no plan for getting out of this sick, addictive cycle with him. In the meantime, you would sit in the empty room and wait for the blood flow to return to your numbed extremities, wait for the aftershocks of arousal and orgasm to subside, and let yourself bask in the comfort of the dark.

#maries500challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier smut #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader

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shimmershae · 3 years ago

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My thoughts on Episode 3--Hunted.

Most of you lovelies already realize this, but my thoughts tend to zig and zag quite a bit, lol. So. To save some of you the headache and spare you from seeing spoilers you’d rather not see yet, I’m again placing them behind a cut.

First things first. I have totally turned into Yvette Nicole Brown with her TWD notebooks, lol, and I’m not even sorry. I just felt like it would be fun to go back when the final episode is in the books and see how well my thoughts from these early episodes line up with what I’m feeling when we say our (not-so) final goodbyes.

But that’s enough about that. Let’s get to this thing.

It really is insane how very much I love Melissa McBride. Just hearing her doing the previously on TWD recap voiceover makes me ridiculously happy.

Cole! Dude! We hardly knew ya.

Not gonna lie. That first shot of Maggie in all the chaos reminded of a shirt I’ve seen. It says--”Well, well, well. If it isn’t the consequences of my actions.”

I have to hand it to Angela and the rest of her team. These opening scenes--on all 3 episodes--have been BOMB so far. They really hook you in right away. At least IMHO.

I realize I’m behind the game on this little tidbit, but how much do I adore the fact that Dog is now in the opening credits?

Okay. Alexandria might look like it’s been on some kind of post-apocalyptic bender but all our girls are looking beautiful as ever. Maybe it’s Maybelline, lol.

I love to see Kelly and Carol still gravitating toward each other. It really speaks to each woman’s heart. Carol wants to make amends so badly and Kelly just has the most lovely, warm, forgiving heart.

Carol’s point about Alexandria still needing the horses to help with the heavy lifting and pointing out the walls and rebuilding won’t matter quite as much if they’re limited by their hunger and what they can physically lift on their own isn’t wrong. But I’m sure the same viewers that were okay with Daryl and Co. going out on Maggie’s suicide mission (using the same reasoning) and saying it made sense for the bigger picture will pretend not to recognize that the same element is there in Carol’s desire to go out there and look for the horses. You know. Because it was Carol’s idea and not that of their fave(s).

Aaron, Man. Or maybe I should say Angela. You just had to put a pit of dread in my belly mentioning Buttons like that. RIP, Buttons. You deserved better. I’m still traumatized.

Look at all the babies bonding. Look at RJ getting to sit at the big kid table.

“My mom always comes back.” She damn well better. Those babies need her. Until she does, though, Uncle Daryl and Aunt Carol (and Aunt Rosita and everybody else) are going to be there.

Anyway. Poor RJ. He barely ever gets any lines, lol.

Hershel and Judith are obviously the mini-adults in this group and baby Rhee is already more cynical and jaded than his sweet daddy was until they reached Alexandria and the wheels started to come off.

So. Does Maggie just think everybody’s already dead here or what? Hmm.

You know. Any building can be creepy AF when the lights are off and it’s dark, lol. Any building.

So much darkness so far this season. I’m going to have to invest in some blackout curtains. I just know it.

Where are all those stairs leading? Why am I thinking of Hitchcock? Am I mixing up my scary, suspenseful movies? Probably.

Of fucking course, Maggie dropped her flashlight. Thank goodness she had that lighter at the ready just before Ghost Face Reaper took a swipe at her.

Is that Father G with a screwdriver impaled in his thigh? Listen. These people deserve a Mega Bottle of pain killers and a week just vegging out in a soft, luxurious bed.

All these horror movie tropes. Some of them are cheesy, yes. But I’m totally here for it.

LMAO. That’s it, Maggie. A good old punch in the nuts works every time.

Alden really is having a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day.

Negan is still Negan. Self-serving and looking out for number one. But I believe the man really does feel the group is his group too. He’s like that long lost, sketchy uncle nobody wants to acknowledge much less invite to the dinner table, but that bond? However thin? Is there.

I am both hating that Maggie is being forced to work with the man that murdered her husband (my baby Glenn) and finding it fascinating the lengths she’s willing to go to survive. This your plan, Angela?

Rosita and Carol! How sad is it that the last really significant scene I can remember the two of these women sharing was way back? Before Rick and Co. attacked Negan’s outpost and Maggie and Carol were subsequently taken? If only the show had done more of these kind of scenes.

How much do I love all the girls working together? Gimps would never. They’d all be stuck back at Alexandria minding the kids and the community.

Shallow aside--Rosita is so pretty in this scene.

Rosita being worried about Carol honestly makes my heart hurt, because it’s about damn time more of them actually did. Her saying Abraham is trying to tell her something in her dreams is interesting. Angela sure loves her dreams, doesn’t she?

Where are Daryl’s dreams, hmm? No. Seriously. I guess they want to give some viewers plausible deniability until the bitter end.

“Really? We’re just gonna go toward the screaming? Cool.” Hahaha. You know. Even the smart people in horror movies sometimes bite it, Negan. Just saying. Maggie really does need to “stop running up the staircase” when she could just run out the front door though, lol.

Poor Duncan. I think you could have been another Tyreese, Jerry type for me.

WTF does this show have against horses? Those poor creatures.

Kelly is totally me right now. I’d be freaking inconsolable.

Carol needed that hug. Thank you, Magna. From the bottom of this tired fangirl’s heart, thank you.

Why give us that beautiful, golden shot with the horses when you’re planning to stab us through the heart later and twist the knife. Oh. Yeah. That’s exactly why.

Oh snap! Father G’s delivery when he tells that Reaper “I’m not. God isn’t here anymore.” Cold as ice.

Judas. That the Reapers’ work. Or. Damn. Either way, that’s harsh.

Back to what Alden was saying. All these oprhaned children. Who’s going to take on Adam if he dies? That poor kid has had a rough go of it. Knowing that, makes you wonder what Alden was thinking volunteering for the suicide mission.

Omigosh. There went Agatha. Terrible way to go. Right, Beatrice?

I’m sobbing. Carol with the horse. That hurt my baby so much but she hurt herself for her family the same way she has been doing since the Prison. Melissa Mcbride? When she cries, I cry. Every effin’ time. Aaron being there just made it hurt more. But at least someone was there to see how and really take in how she continues to break pieces of herself off to keep her family as whole and safe and happy as she can.

Rewinding a minute--that Magna and Carol conversation. I get Magna’s reasoning too. I do. But Angela is just making everything so dire right now so that the sun when Connie is ultimate found shines a ltitle brighter.

Those babies know they’re eating horse. I could never.

That’s got to be a different Coco. She’s even smaller. But she’s gorgeous.

Fucking finally. Angela having the other characters notice after an eternity of being blind to it, just how much Carol sacrifices of herself for them. It’s so long overdue and I imagine Rosita’s even more worried for Carol now. It’s a shame it’s taken 11 seasons. My baby’s had blood on her hands trying to keep her family safe and whole and happy and fed for a long damn time. So heartbreaking watching her try to scrub the blood away.

Sweet, sweet hug that Kelly gave Magna. She’s such a sweetheart kid sis to all of them, isn’t she?

Interesting place of refuge. A gutted church. A visual symbol, Angela, of where Maggie and the rest of our people are now perhaps?

“It’s easy for you, isn’t it? Being reckless with sombody’s life...” Maggie. Maggie. Those words would have hit so much harder if we hadn’t spent the majority of the last 2.5 episodes watching you ignore sound advice just because it came out of the mouth of somebody you (justifiably) hate.

But will Alden be there when Maggie and Negan get back? That is the question. Or will he eventually Lucille himself?

That little bit of lineup Negan music to remind the audience of Negan lovers and sympathizers that he once took great pleasure in murderously swinging a bag at people’s heads was a nice, subtle touch there. Like agree with her or not, Maggie is literally left to rely on the hope, however small it is, that Negan has changed just enough that he won’t try to finish a job he taken on years before--killing what’s left of her.

Oh lawd. Next episode sees the return of a character literally nobody asked for. How excited am I not?

Dog better not be harmed or so help me.

Now for Angela’s weekly explanations of WTF she/there were thinking because they been doing this plausible deniability thing so long some people out there watching with biased, muddy stan glasses can no longer separate head canon from canon.

Is Maggie worried at all about Daryl or does she just assume his superhero powers are in full effect in this episode?

“You can’t really say it wasn’t going to happen anyway.” Not Angela pointing out that simply laying the blame for literally everything bad that ever happens at Carol’s feet isn’t the answer. Say it louder for those in the back. Alpha was going to do what Alpha wanted to do.

“There is love there. There is respect there. However, there’s also frustration...” You damn skippy. Friendships and human relationships are complex AF. Like Carol. She’s honestly one of the most complicated characters on this show and any show, IMHO. That’s what makes her so memorable and such a lightning rod for discussion.

I know I might be in a minority, but I really feel like they need more of those little scenes between the kids to keep things real.

Kang saying she always feels like she’s going to get murdered in a staircase or parking lot is relatable, funny, and sad all at the same time. It’s a girl thing.

Why is Carol’s story giving me Dark Knight vibes? Like I feel like she’ll gladly shoulder the burden of their distrust, their hate, or their judgment as long as the hard choices she makes keeps them safe. And she’s still ultimately going to come back to save their asses even when they forsake her. Just like Bruce Wayne/Batman. Am I reaching too far, lol? Because sometimes I do that.

Anyway. This is the third episode of the season and the third episode in a row that I mostly enjoyed. I don’t know if I’m just so relieved and happy to have all the characters and my show back or what, but overall? I’ve been pleased with the episodes and found something to love in all of them.

There’s a much stronger horror vibe woven throughout Season 11 so far. I feel like it’s a return to the roots of the show and I like that. Literally none of the characters are making perfect choices and this viewer is here for it. My only complaint so far is there hasn’t been enough Carol but what we’ve been given has felt like a gift and significant in a way that Gimps’ version was not. Also? I really hope the trend of the ladies working together and supporting each other continues because they rule the TWD world, lol.

Hope you enjoyed at least some of my TWD word vomit.

Until next episode.

#The Walking Dead #Season 11 #TWD spoilers #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons #my heart

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kyluxtrashpit · 4 years ago

Text

2020 Fic Recap

I really like writing these and 2020 has been a HELL of a year, so here we go lmao. It’s been a wild ride for sure

Total wordcount: 88 109 words (note: I’m subtracting the ‘sorry I didn’t finish this, here’s a summary of the remaining plot’ that I published for a fic in a previous fandom from this since it’s not relevant here). Overall I wrote less than last year, but given all that happened in terms of the world and personally and fandom-wise and all of it, I don’t feel too bad about it lmao. I also have a lot of WIP words of half-finished things and some planning and such so I feel okay with this

Favours, 4906 words, posted Jan 4

This was a weird one cause this is a two chapter reader insert fic, the same story but told with both Phasma and Hux. I originally wrote this for Phasma, but later decided it would be easy to tweak into a Hux story (which it was lmao) and figured people might like that, so I did both. I had fun doing it, even if this is kind of a very small niche ship and trope wise

Know Your Shadow, 5022 words, posted Feb 16

Ah yes, here we are, the first foray into renben, a ship I had NO idea would grab me so hard but here we are lmao. I’m not done with them either yet, don’t you worry. There’s something about the corruption angle I really like, also Ren is HOT, and it’s also interesting to think about Kylo truly getting to find himself and be who he wants to be. Canon didn’t really satisfy on this, but the concept still interests me and it’s what had me writing this fic. Also, Ben losing his virginity to an older man like Ren is just *chef’s kiss*

Public Indecency, 3719 words, posted Mar 1

And my second renben! This was partially inspired by art and partially by just the idea of not giving one single fuck, and how thrilling that must be for someone like Ben to experience. Ren and the KOR truly do not give a shit and it’s really beautiful in a way. Plus some hinting at found family with the KOR. Ngl, Ben/Kylo finding his place and acceptance with the KOR makes me so Soft and there’s so many words I could write about it. Plus public sex is very hot lmao

Beautiful, 3254 words, posted Mar 8

Back to kylux, and this one was an old WIP I started back when the prompt was first posted on KHK in like 2019 or something. I got stuck on it and then left it for a while. I was digging through my old WIPs, looking for something that might catch my interest and boom, this one did, so I finished it and then posted it. I quite like the fic and it’s a bit more in the ~classic~ style. It’s also always a good feeling to get an old WIP done lmao

Choose Your Destiny, 5077 words, posted Mar 20

More renben and this was my fix it fic for ROKR vol 4. I talked about this more on twitter at the time and why I found the story as it was unsatisfying, but ultimately it’s really just a case of rushed writing and playing into established bad writing (e.g. showing a fall from grace by having someone kill someone eviler than themselves). I also really liked Ren and I felt like Kylo didn’t really get to have enough agency in like... any of it. His motivations were weirdly absent as well, despite this being ostensibly about him. So I wrote this, which I think handled how the story should have gone a lot better and, plus, it’s got smut!

(Okay and the rest are behind a cut for length)

Show of Devotion, 2479 words, posted Mar 28

Renben once again and this time, I mean, it’s all inappropriate use of lightsabers lmao. I was looking at the Ren and was like ‘wow that is SO phallic’ and then the horny brain turned on and, well, here we are. I also wanted a side of found family with the KOR and I think got that with this. It’s horny. It’s fun. What more could one want?

Aural, 2729 words, posted May 12

Okay this one... I have absolutely no excuses for lmao. I’m not even sure where the inspiration came from, I just remember I was in an online work meeting that was boring and the entire sequence of events played itself out in my head. It was all I could do to focus on work for the rest of the day and not immediately write this cursed creation lmao. The worst part was I’d been totally blocked on writing since March and this, THIS, was what eventually broke out of me. In case you haven’t read this one, it’s ear sex. Hux’s dick, Kylo’s ear. No, I don’t know the logistics either. But hey, I had a blast with it, both in terms of writing it and the reactions lmao. Someday I gotta write a follow up involving a nose too

Missed Chances, 10 749 words, posted Jun 7

Ah yes, this is the point where my renben met my kylux and created this absolutely enormous peanut butter cup of a fic lmao. It really was supposed to be like half the length it was, but alas, it was not. Also cockblocking kylux was SO hard, they wanted to fuck SO bad, but I had to stop them, the story demanded it lmao (and people in the comments were MAD, which is always excellent). It’s also when my renben series really started to have like, an overarching plot (aside from the modern au fics which I’ll talk about later). I even still have more instalments planned

Free Use, 6971 words, posted Jun 23

Another one that turned out far longer than initially planned, and also my most popular fic this year! I’m both surprised and not cause like. It’s a complete smut fest + my heavy headcanoning of the personalities of the KOR. People like smut, but I also feel it’s kinda niche considering how deep I’m in for the KOR lmao. So idk, I guess the smut won out. I did have a lot of fun with this one and there’s a lot of characterization thought put into each KOR, so it was really nice to see people loving that as much as I did. Canon gave us crumbs, but I just used them to make meatballs

Eat You Up, 1573 words, posted Jul 5

There’s not a lot to this one, it’s really just renben rimming cause the sexual dynamic with renben is so fun. Kylo/Ben is inexperienced yet eager and depraved enough to impress Ren, which is something considering I think of Ren as Very Experienced lmao. I really do love this ship; it’s a lot of fun to play with

In the Vents, 2002 words, posted Aug 3

Ah and this was my first piece for the stuck inside event on twitter, which I had a lot of fun with. Stuck fetish is one I’ve always wanted to explore, but never had any concrete ideas for. This event led to me finally getting to have Kylo stuck in a wall (plus more as well), which was fun. Also I spent far too long thinking about Hux’s vent contraption set up cause I knew he would never let Millie go anywhere that might hurt her, so I had to come up with a way to make the vent safe and here we are lmao. Hux being an engineer and also the most extra cat owner in existence worked out very well indeed. This was also the start of my creativity boom near the middle-end of the year that uh kinda burned out in a not so great way, but I’ll talk about that later lmao

Distraction, 3658 words, posted Aug 6

Another for the stuck inside event and another kylux/renben sandwich! Also featuring the KOR this time! Listen... it’s a gangbang, it’s got renben, it’s got kylux, it’s got Kylo getting stuffed from all ends... this is the kind of fic that, to me, is pure indulgence lmao. I had a tremendous amount of fun with it

Entrapped, 3484 words, posted Aug 8

So this was also for the stuck inside event (yes, I wrote 3 fics in about a week lmao - I don’t know how I did it either) and it’s darker than the sort of things I usually write. I enjoyed exploring something like this though, something outside my usual purview. It didn’t perform super well, but tbh the dark ones rarely do so lmao

Pit Stop, 1505 words, posted Aug 31

Welp, this is just an excuse for watersports lmao. I like piss, what can I say? And I’ve done it to kylux, so I had to do it to renben, and the modern au ‘need to pee on a road trip’ seemed like the perfect opportunity for it. Not much to say for it really

The Deal, 2431 words, posted Sep 3

Ah and this one here was the first for the throwback event I ran on twitter! The event itself ended up kind of being tainted by drama from one singular person who kind of ruined it by being a jerk for literally no good reason, but I’m not going to talk too much about that. Even with that, I still greatly enjoyed it and this piece might be my favourite from it as a whole. Kylo Amidala, political scandals, neither of them being nice... ahhhh yes, it definitely brought me back lmao

Devotion, 1929 words, posted Sep 10

Another for the throwback event, this time with Emperor and Hound dynamics which, unf, yes, I will literally never get tired of it. I really had fun with every fic from this event and this one was great because I so rarely get to write real action scenes, even if they’re in a flashback here. That and the dynamic itself really made it fun

To Be Wanted, 10 473 words, posted Sep 16

Ah yes, and here is my KBB for the year! I did a minibang this time, as, well, everything was going horribly wrong around the time of sign ups and I thought a mini would be more realistic. I think I was right on that and I’m glad I did it, even if I was torn at the time. The idea itself is one I’d been thinking about for a while. I can’t remember if I thought of it after seeing the leaks for tros or after watching the movie itself, but it’s been with me for a while and while I dithered over whether or not to sign up this year, the idea came back and was just perfect for a minibang. Plus I got an absolutely amazing and wonderful partner, which is really what makes the experience of doing bangs so great. I love this fic, I LOVE the art for it, and the whole experience was definitely a highlight to 2020 as a whole, both overall and in terms of my fandom/writing experience this year

Floss Me, 2033 words, posted Sep 21

My third for the throwback event and also the dental fetish fic I’ve wanted to write for a while now lmao but could never figure out a scenario for. As some of you may remember, 2018-2019, I went through some pretty horrific dental stuff and ultimately I think it kinda gave me a fetish lmao. Also I feel like there may or may not have been a kinky flossing prompt on one of the prompt sites at some point, but I looked everywhere and couldn’t find it so. But anyway, it was a fun fic for a kink I think is quite underrated tbh

The Cost of Certainty, 2541 words, posted Sep 25

My fourth and final piece for the throwback event, and this one is also a contender for my favourite piece from that event. I have always loved the idea of Hux being a serial killer and this was a perfect excuse to write it. I’d also recently finished a rewatch of Hannibal and, well, you can see where this came from lmao. I love writing tension and it was just very fun all around. I almost wish I’d done something like this as a long fic but tbh I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed writing it as much

Huxloween Drawings, 676 words, posted Nov 1

So this isn’t a fic but rather the drawings I did for huxloween, but people wanted them on ao3, so posted they are. Now, I mentioned above that I had this massive creative boom in Aug-Sep, but that it burned out rather badly. This is when that happened. I got into this place where I just... felt like everything I made wasn’t wanted or needed in the fandom. That everything I like is so unpopular at this point that I should just give up and leave. That I’ve spent all this time and energy over the years trying so desperately to get people engaged and so few ever cared and I just... ugh. It was bad. It was really bad and definitely partly fuelled by the bullshit that someone brought up regarding the throwback event (and I still believe that they are the sole cause of it’s poor reception). I, uh, am doing better now and still working through it all but it was a really rough time. But I found myself still wanting to be creative so I decided to draw. I am not good at drawing. I am not an artist. But that’s what made it fun: I went into each drawing knowing it wasn’t gonna look great. That wasn’t the point. So I never got upset about it. I think it helped me a lot tbh and I did really enjoy it and I’m glad I did it

Unconventional, 7243 words (in progress), updated Dec 20, first posted Nov 18

So the next part of me trying to fix the bullshit in my brain creativity-wise was to post the first chapter to this fic. This is a piece I’ve been working on since 2016-2017 (I don’t remember exactly when, but it was pre-TLJ, and I’ve gotten a new computer since so I don’t have the original creation date of the document) but I could just... never get a plot together for it and ever since I abandoned a fic in my old fandom (and this year I finally posted the ‘sorry this isn’t getting finished, here’s a closure summary’ chapter), I’ve been hesitant to post WIPs before being at least 80% done. So I said fuck it, I’m gonna post this and not be scared. Is this fic complete? Nope, but the plan is starting to come together. Do I know exactly where it’s going? Nope, but I don’t need to. Is it self-indulgent as all hell? Absolutely. I love this fic and I love this story and I love the concepts within it. So I posted it and tbh, it really helped. And I think this, combined with my writing break where I drew for 31 days straight lmao were really my saving graces here

Test Run, 3661 words, posted Dec 31

And now my final fic of the year! Which is a ship I honestly wasn’t super into (I don’t hate it, it just generally doesn’t do much for me) but then I did that thing where I thought ‘hmm but could it be written in a way that I am into?’ which, in my experience, always leads to me writing exactly that. Which is what I did here lmao. I’m pretty happy with it though and despite it being very strange to write, as I really had to work to get these two to get where they were going lmao, I had fun with it. I honestly doubt I’ll write more of them, but I’m glad I wrote this one, and I think it’s a good experiment to close out the year with

What have I learned?

Honestly, this year was a clusterfuck lmao. 2019 wasn’t great for me either, but we all lived through this and it was certainly An Experience. I think what this year really helped me focus on was what made me happy. I ended up in some dark places and I don’t want to go there again. It feels repetitive to say that, once again, I have learned that writing what I want is key when I say that every damn year, but tbh I think 2020 underscored it even more so. Spite as a motivator, when used to much, smothers the spark of creativity and the joy of creation. The most important lesson I learned this year by far is to not let that take the driver’s seat. A dash here and there? That’s fine. But as your main motivator? That’s just not healthy. And I need to work to keep it from consuming me like it has been for too long

Goals for 2021?

So last year I didn’t set any hard goals and boy, is it a good thing I didn’t, cause I achieved none of them lmao. I didn’t write more words (though I did write more individual fics, and the word count gap between this year and last is about the size of the difference between a big bang fic and a mini bang fic so really, I think I did okay), I didn’t even write a single fic for BTHB, and, to be really honest, I did not manage to keep my love for writing alive the whole time. I was in a really dark place a few times this year, but that drop in Sep-Oct was the worst from a creative standpoint. I feel like I’m mostly out of it now, even if I still have some work to do maintaining it. I’m hopeful for the future in that regard. The only thing I really did accomplish was that I feel positively towards all the fics I wrote; I’m happy and proud of all of them

So what is my goal? Honestly, I feel like every year I have to relearn the lesson of ‘write what you want, have fun, be self-indulgent, fuck expectations, etc.’ and my goal this year is to not have to relearn that again, but to keep that energy and carry it with me for the whole year. I realize I may have to put some effort in there, but I’m okay with that. I don’t know what 2021 has in store, but if I can just keep my passion alive and not fall into that pit again, I’m calling it a win

#kylux #renben #hey I'm not late this year lmao #it's been an interesting one that's for sure #anyway I'm happy with all my fics this year which is good #but I need to keep working at keeping my head in the right space #which will likely take some practice #but I'm off to a good start #and I have good feelings about the future in that regard #so here's to a 2020 full of writing about kylo getting railed to high heaven #and to a 2021 full of the same!#my fic #long post #shut up nerd

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blackenedwhite97 · 4 years ago

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Birthday Gifts-Reader x Aizawa [BNHA] {NSFW}

Request:

“Idk if your requests are open or anything but can I get a (really detailed lmao) Aizawa oneshot? It's the reader's birthday and to celebrate it they go out with their friends (Aizawa, Mic, Midnight, those peeps) and they get drunk with Aizawa? Then Aizawa takes them to his house and they have a heated, drunken makeout session and end up doing it? And they wake up sober and all and they just look at eachother like 👀 Please and thank you (you can just delete this if you don't wanna write it lol)”

This post includes: , sexual content (so many), cursing, alcohol use and unprotected sex.

As usual I overwrote! Use the “keep reading” page breaks as your guide, the smut and fun times will be nested in between breaks for easy access to anyone who just wants a one way ticket, no lay overs, to horn town.

Author’s note: Requests are super cool and fuel me when I’m brain dead. If you want something sexy/ steamy please keep the character request over 18+ and keep it (fantasies/ role play aside) groovy and consensual.

Okay, birthday sex now.

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

You could hear Midnight’s heals echoing down through the halls of your apartment, the thin walls couldn’t defend against her unstoppable strut. You looked yourself over in the full-length mirror you’d hung next to the coat rack, smoothing out your mesh shirt. You had tried your best to dress up, you had even rooted through your closet until you had found your good jeans. If you were honest with yourself, you were a full-time teacher and a full-time pro-hero, most social events usually demanded your hero costume, or your agency provided appropriate formal wear.

In recent years your wardrobe had thinned out considerably, any and all clubbing clothes were long gone or buried under the pile of ruined costume pieces you refused to clean out from your closet. The black mesh shirt you were wearing was borrowed, embarrassingly enough, from your niece who also had to supply the black tank top under it. You had never felt so desperate for clothes than when your niece had to start lending you clothes for your own birthday party. The one silver lining was seeing the scandalized look on your brother’s face when he saw what you had grabbed from her closet.

The front door swung open, Midnight’s spare key dangling in the lock.

“You know you can knock if I’m home.” You took stock of the mass of bags hanging from her arms.

She paused and looked you up and down. “A for effort but I have something for you to wear.”

You looked down at yourself then back at her. You had thought the mesh shirt was bordering on scandalous but compared to Midnight’s shimmering cut out dress you definitely looked like your sixteen-year-old niece had dressed you.

“But,” You gestured to your torso dramatically. “I did the mesh thing! That’s not hot?”

Midnight laughed and dropped one arm of bags unceremoniously on the ground. She scurried around you towards the kitchen pulling out a very luxurious looking bottle of champagne. “It’s your birthday and you aren’t showing leg.”

Since becoming friends with Midnight you had found yourself being spoiled left and right by her. She enjoyed the finer things in life, fine clothes, good drink and gourmet food. She also enjoyed good company, which she reminded you daily that you fit that bill. It was nice, when it wasn’t overwhelming.

“Pink bag.” She said and pointed to the pile of bags on the floor. “I’m getting you laid tonight.”

Your mind tried to picture the dress and all you could come up with was different iterations of Midnight’s hero costume. While you adored Midnight and her style and confidence, it wasn’t quite you. Aside from that the bag was embellished with the logo of a local high-end boutique. Expensive. “How much-”

“It’s a birthday present.” She cut you off.

“Midnight I can’t take-” you tried again.

“Don’t refuse a gift,” the bottle of the champagne rocketed up and dented your low ceiling. “it’s rude.”

You pointed to the ceiling. “That’s rude.”

“Just go put it on!” she waved you off as she began a fruitless search for champagne flutes that you surely didn’t own.

You scoped up the bag and looked at your jean clad legs longingly, you could do so much in jeans and so little in a dress (without revealing yourself). You peaked inside, a neatly folded mound of matt black fabric peeking through the decorative tissue paper. At least it’s not shiny.

As you headed to your room Midnight called after you. “The boys are coming here and we’re all splitting the cab there!”

Your heart jumped in your chest. The boys. Plural. Did that include- no he hates clubs. If he is coming over then that meant that he’d see you in whatever Midnight had selected for you. You grinned to yourself as you stared at the bag on your bed. Sneaky. No wonder she seemed so proud of herself. Although you certainly tried to keep it a secret, Midnight read you like an open book. She noticed how you trailed after him, stared at doors he’d left through.

You lifted the dress from the bag and left it unfold in your hands. It was simple, fitted and clean. You sighed in relief. A small bundle of lace fell out of the bundle to the ground and you looked down red faced to find a black thong on the floor.

“Put everything on!” You could hear the shit eating grin plastered on Midnight’s face.

You huffed and slid off your jeans, staring at the lacey panties with hesitation. Dressed fly up all the time, and you were somewhat of a public figure. But it would be hot to reach up your dress to find those.

Shit.

You swapped your underwear and slid the dress on. You very quickly realized that you’d have to go braless, the plunging neckline wouldn’t allow it. You had to admit, Midnight knew how to dress just about anyone. When she didn’t get overzealous that is. A memory of the sequinned ball gown she tried to convince you to buy last Christmas for Mt. Lady’s party flashed through your mind. You peaked into the bag, the shoes she’d thrown in were a pair of her own and were far too tall and had far too much ankle snapping capabilities for you. Luckily you had swiped a pair of heels from your agency’s closet, you were the only one with the right size of feet to wear them anyways. They were semi ornate burgundy heels that were tall enough to give you those sculpted calves but not so tall as to lend themselves to causing you serious bodily harm should you take a tumble.

You looked yourself over in the mirror and liked what you saw, a new confidence washed over you.

“I look hot as hell.” You declared under your breath.You opened your door, ready to show off Midnight’s hard work.

All confidence drained out of you for a split second when you made eye contact with the Aizawa as he leaned on your counter, a wine glass filled with champagne.

“Uh, H-Hi!” you squeaked. Aizawa looked lost for a moment, probably trying to zone out the energetic conversation Mic and Midnight seemed to be having on the opposite side of the kitchen island from him. He straightened up at the sight of you and you could have sworn a light pink blush attempted to break through across his cheeks. You liked to hope it was you he was blushing at but told yourself he could be a blusher when he drank.

“Hi.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “You look…like the birthday girl.”

He blinked long and hard. That sentence was as awkward for him as it was for you. Midnight jumped towards you, arms outstretched and demanded a spin.

“Let me see my work.” She spun you around and leaned in close so no one could hear. “Is it all on?”

You grinned despite yourself. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Her hand patted your ass and she stepped away.

“You don’t have any champagne flutes!” She said, declaring a change in topic.

“I don’t drink champagne, why do I need champagne flutes?” You defended yourself and she slid a bubbly filled wine glass towards you, but also suspiciously close to where Aizawa was leaning. You took the glass and settled for a more comfortable distance from him, not that you didn’t crave getting as close as possible but you thought you should at least wait until you could blame any embarrassing advances on the alcohol.

“Yeah,” Midnight gestures at herself. “but I do!”

“They’re just skinny wine glasses, though.” Aizawa chimed in, his low calm voice hinting at entertained.

“Sho, my man.” Mic reached across the island and clapped a hand on Aizawa’s shoulder. “You are not a man culture.”

Aizawa turned directly to you, his deep eyes boring into yours. Again, you noticed that slight flush of color on his cheeks. “I think you wine glasses are just fine, don’t listen to these two.”

You grinned at him. “Thank-you, on behalf of me and my wine glasses.”

Midnight jumped, pulling her phone from her ample cleavage. “Cabs here!”

Aizawa began collecting wine glasses but you waved him off. “Don’t worry, I’ll get them in the morning.”

He placed his in the sink before Midnight was practically yanking you and him out the door.

“I need my wallet!” you yelped trying to grab your purse on the way out.

“No, you don’t! You aren’t paying for anything tonight!” she said wrapping a ridiculously strong arm around your shoulders.

Aizawa shot an arm out grabbing your purse off your coat rack as he was ushered out the door and handed it to you. “Uh, here.”

“Thanks.” You turned to lock the door, but Midnight was already pulling her key from the lock.

“Let’s go!” she sang as she began her unstoppable strut out of the building.

Midnight had shoved you and Aizawa in the back seat of the SUV, demanded her jacket be given its own seat in the back with you and insisted it could not get wrinkled. She was really good at this. You ended up sitting in the middle seat, having to lean into Aizawa periodically when she would remind you not to lean into her jacket. It was a very nice faux fur jacket, but you knew fur didn’t wrinkle. And you were pretty sure Aizawa knew that too.

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There was a big surprise that was ill timed but all together commendable. When you entered the bar some of the guests were still scurrying into their hiding places, you pretended for everyone’s sake to be very surprised. You even jumped and grabbed onto Aizawa for support, which the thankfully played along with by “catching” you in your shock. You were flooded with drink offers, some by hero’s you’d never even met before. Big parties with lots of booze do that, make everyone want to buy the birthday girl a drink. You gladly accepted a handful of drinks before pawning them off on All Might who had the metabolism of a God and Aizawa who soon enough was drunker than you.

Midnight and Mic were in their element, dancing and singing away. The crowd was so drawn to them that after a while you were able to retreat to a booth in the back and watch them light up the room from afar. You spun your untouched glass of god knows what, watching the melting ice swirl around the nearly fluorescent liquid.

“What’s that?” Aizawa grumbled towards your drink as he slid into the booth next to you. At some point in the night his shirt had become progressively more undone, the sleeves were rolled up and his hair fell from its elastic. He smelled of booze but beyond that a subtle wave of musk and soap washed over you.

“Dunno.” You said pushing it away and leaning into his shoulder. “Stay still, kay?”

“Room spinning?” He asked, leaning into you.

You nodded and closed your eyes taking in his smell. Something about this was so comfortable.

“I like this.” You said pulling on his shirt. “You look good in a dress shirt.”

“Thanks.” He chuckled. “You look beautiful tonight.”

You smirked. Hell yeah you did. “You should see what Midnight has me wearing underneath.”

There was a moment when all you could feel was Aizawa taking a deep breath beneath your head. “Is that an invitation?”

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. He was definitely blushing now, but there was no awkwardness in his eyes. They were intense, alight with heat and intent. You nodded against his shoulder and watched a smirk spread across his lips. A warm calloused hand found its way to your thigh and traveled upward under your dress, barely brushing the lace panties. It was barely a brush, but you felt excitement pull at your gut.

“Well, shit.” He breathed.

You swallowed your fear and decided that you were drunk enough to be able to blame it on that if this went poorly. You sat yourself up and pressed your hands to his chest, his hand stayed at its post between your legs and his eyes stayed glued to yours. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. He melted into you, his spare hand finding your hip. He instantly began nipping at your bottom lip and running his tongue across your lips until you gave into the wet sloppy drunk kisses. Not that you minded, you too were wet, sloppy and drunk.

His hands traveled everywhere, grabbing and stroking any part of you he could. By the time his hand found your inner thigh again you had swung a leg over his lap and he had begun to leave love bites across your collarbone and neck. You reached down and palmed him between your legs and he hissed, pulling away from you and taking hold of your jaw so he could look you in the eyes. It took you a minute to focus on him, the heat running through you threatening to burn through your clothes.

“Not here.” He breathed, huffing when you stroked him through his pants again. “I’m not fucking you here.”

You pouted and slumped back, hitting the table filled with drinks at varying stages of finished. He caught you by the hips before you fell too far back and laughed, his eyes impossibly warm and soft. “My place is two blocks away.”

You slid off of him and pulled our skirt down, hiding what fraction of our pride you still could for any possible on lookers. You reached out towards him. “This is my get laid dress, so lay me.”

He paused for a second, shaking his head and chuckling. You cringed inwards, possibly the worst sentence you leave your mouth.

“I know what you mean.” Aizawa said, ducking back to grab your purse from the booth. “Here.”

You grabbed it and latched onto his arm as the two of you leaned onto each other for support, hopefully creating the appearance of two only mildly buzzed people. You were both swaying, his hand unable to detach itself from your ass and yours keeping itself warm under his shirt. The walk was quick but clumsy, your “practical” heels failing you and demanding to be taken off over a sewer grate.

The most treacherous part of your journey was perhaps the dreaded keyhole in his door handle. You thanked god he lived on the first floor, at this point stairs were not an option. As soon as the door was open you were practically thrown inside to the dark apartment, your back hitting a wall a few feet from the door. He kicked the door closed behind him and was on you before the latch closed. In one smooth movement he hoisted you up into his arms and turned to place you on a set of drawers where you hit a glass key dish. It fell to the ground with a crash and off in the dark apartment a surprised cat yelped. You let out a giggle, holding onto Aizawa’s head as you pulled away to laugh. His head fell to your chest as he finished off the buttons on his shirt, shedding it and laughed with you. “You good?”

You nodded and pulled his face back to yours. He began working on your dress, the zipper on the back gave way under his surprisingly steady hands. In one swift movement he scooped you up and slid the rest of the dress from your body and placed you back down, this time careful to mind any stray key dishes. His hand ran along the wall looking for the light switch. The entrance to the apartment lit up with a dim amber light, his hair was mussed and his cheeks red, one of your love marks already bruising nicely against the pale skin of his throat.

You realized that you were nearly completely naked save the thong. Under any other circumstance you would have been mortified and scrambling for cover but given the alcohol and the way he was looking at you right now, you let the moment exist. He leaned forward pressing his forehead to yours.

“Beautiful.” He whispered.

“Pants.” You whispered back. “Off.”

He chuckled and obliged, dropping his pants and stepping out of them.

“Okay, sex now.” He huffed as he grabbed you by the waist and carried you into the barely illuminated living room.

He dropped you on the couch unceremoniously and manhandled you into position until you were sitting on the edge of the couch, your legs draped over his shoulders and his strong hands grasping at your thigh and breast. He trailed kisses up your thigh, his fingers hooking around your panties and tugging them down your legs. His hands left your body briefly, warm air hitting your face as your thong whipped past your head and over the couch. His hands gripped your thighs tight, holding them in place on his shoulders and he ducked down and began his work.

At first it was slow, tentative, almost shy. Then he found the spot, the spot that made you shiver and clench your thighs. You felt his scruff rub against your sensitive skin as he grinned, his grip tightening, and you began to squirm. He lapped at your clit, slow then fast, nipping when your squirming seemed to slow, keeping the knot in your gut swelling with every move. You moaned and dug your hand into his wild hair, the soft curls swallowing your fingers. You held him closer, practically begging him not to stop.

The knot in your stomach swelled until your thighs shook and your breath came out in quivering waves. You wanted him to fuck you so badly that the thought of cumming now felt like treason. You pushed against his head, yet he was unyielding in his assault on your core.

“Fuck.” You breathed, trying to delay the inevitable. “Sho, fuck me already.”

He pulled back, his hand replacing his tongue. “Not until you cum first.”

“N-no, please. Fuck me.” You begged, the knot tightening impossibly.

“I’m drunk.” He huffed, his breath washing over your already hot core. “Once I cum I cannot be held responsible if I fucking pass out. Now hold still so I can give you a birthday present!”

He dove back into your core, this time renewed with an almost aggressive approach, not that you were complaining. Your hands tighten in his curls and you gave in to him, everything he was building up to until you were rocking into his mouth and mewling like a cat in heat. He slipped in two fingers, your slick greedy vagina gladly accepted them. You felt him curse against you, no doubt the warm wet feeling of you wrapped around his fingers a siren’s call straight to his dick.

He pumped in and out, his tongue never yielding until finally the knot in your stomach released and a wave euphoria and shiver racked your body, your legs and arms twitching as your body felt as if it was floating.He helped you ride your high, adding another finger and whispering a cacophony of dirty words in your ear. You gripped his shoulders as you came back to yourself, he was covered in a thin layer of sweat and his scent wafted in painfully alluring waved towards you.

He lifted your weak legs and folded them into your chest, his boxers now discarded along with your lace panties, tossed into the dark abyss of the apartment. He placed a hot kiss to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose then to your lips. There he stayed as he lined himself up with your entrance and pushed forward. He was girthy and stretched you in ways you hadn’t expected.

“Breathe.” He pulled back, looking into your eyes. You hadn’t noticed you’d been holding your breath until now and let out the breath you were keeping locked away in your chest. Your body melted into the couch, forming to fit him perfectly as you relaxed. Again, he started slow, setting a pace while he figured out what felt right. He must have found the jackpot because suddenly his pace picked up, his breath hot on your neck. You felt a familiar knot, loosely forming in your stomach, your nerves still buzzing from your previous orgasms.

Aizawa reached forward, his hands finding your breasts as he leaned down into you. You were pressed back further into the couch as he drilled into you, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing in the dark. With each thrust the knot in your stomach tugged on itself, tightening. Aizawa paused, adjusting himself at your entrance before thrusting forward, stars shooting across your vision as a hot wave rattled through you. You’re mewls grew to yelps and gasps with every thrust, his grunts starting to match your love sounds.

You could feel yourself starting to shake, the tension in your gut almost too much to take, when he began to get sloppy. Every thrust became an endeavor as he struggled to find a pace he could keep while slowly coming undone. His hands slid down to the couch, gripping the fabric like he was going to be whisked away at any moment.

“Fuck.” He cursed; his body twitching out of rhythm.

You grabbed each side of his face and looked him in the eyes, pools of deep lust consuming your vision. You pulled him close, suddenly craving his lips on yours. He mirrored your urgency and soon his pace evened out, each thrust stronger and faster than the last. You felt yourself clenching around him, your legs locked at his shoulders.

He pressed his head against yours pulling out of the kiss so he could look into your eyes as he came. He drilled into you until your yelps turned into a silent scream of pleasure as the knot in your gut burst for a second time that night. With a final, strong thrust warmth spread through you as he leaned into you, his uneven breaths washing over your skin.

He slid down to his elbows as he rode out his own orgasm, his lips brushing your collar bone as he muttered sweet nothings to you.You twitched beneath him, stars and black spots dancing in your periphery. Your legs slipped off his shoulders and found rest at his hip, the two of you sweating and panting in the sweet afterglow of sloppy drunk sex.

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The rays of sun that broke through the blinds berated your eyes, the searing white light like a smite from god with the hangover you were about the nurse. Groaning against the light you reached over to your bedside table for the bottle of water you put there before leaving for the night. Your hand stopped short at a wall of plush and springy fabric…like the back of a couch. Your eyes shot open, bright hot sunlight filling your vision. You groaned and scrambled backwards out of the light’s reach, kicking something on your way back.

“Fuck!” You knew that voice.

You blinked away the retina burns, and your stomach dropped. At your feet a very sleepy and very naked Aizawa was lying on his front, his arms folded under his head.

“Sorry!” you chirped; realizing it was him you had just kicked. “D-did we-”

Aizawa looked up at you, at first he seemed just as dazed and confused as you did but then a sly grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

You looked down at yourself, realizing you too were very naked. You pulled your legs up to cover as much as you could and wrapped your arms around your chest. “Do you…remember any of-”

“Not at all.” He grumbled, sitting himself up and grabbing a pillow from the ground to cover his junk. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

You squinted into the distance, calling on fuzzy memories of fluorescent cocktails and straying hands. You could feel your cheeks heating up. “Your hand up my skirt.”

“Was that-”

“My idea? Yep.” You recalled.

“Oh.” He nodded to himself. “Good.”

You both sat in silence staring at each other. A long-haired white cat leapt up onto the couch and rubbed its body up against your shins, begging for affection.

“Did you want to shower? I have some sweats you can-”

“Yeah, thanks!” you interrupted and jumped up, painfully aware of how very vey naked you were. You dashed towards the first door you saw.

“That’s my room, Bathroom’s down the hall.” You could feel him smirking at you.

“Right!” you said as you turned and strutted down the hall.

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #reader x bnha #reader x aizawa #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #aizawa shouta #mha #mha x reader #reader insert #reader insert mha #reader insert bnha #my hero #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanfic #my hero academia fanfiction

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godkilller · 4 years ago

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ROLEPLAYING A FIGHT

DETAILS AND EXAMPLES.

As I touched on in my previous tips ‘n tricks post, fight threads should never happen in a void. There should be concrete connections to your character’s main storyline, their goals, their motivations, and other contributors to why and how they’ve found themselves in this current situation. That ALSO being said, the fight should literally not happen in a void: WHERE IS THIS CONFLICT TAKING PLACE? Describe, as an ‘establishing shot’, where your character is. Are they outside, is there a lot of room for them to run around and get into a scuffle? Are there trees, cars, buildings nearby? Will there be a high potential for objects (and people passing by) to get harmed / damaged in this battle? Does your character care about causing destruction during a fight, are they the type to say “let’s go somewhere else”?

Describing the space your characters are in is an excellent way of UNDERSTANDING WHERE YOUR CHARACTER STANDS, literally, because POSITIONING IS REALLY IMPORTANT! You don’t have to go absolutely crazy detailed when dishing out specs on where your characters are, but a general sense of “an opening within a clustered bamboo forest” or. “a half-constructed abandoned building” can really determine how the fight goes within that space, and most importantly how your character moves through that space.

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER MOVE? Are they fluid, are they clumsy? Do they hunch, do they stand tall? Describing essential details pertaining to your character’s appearance, their demeanor, can help solidify them in that space. Do they sway when they talk? Do they jitter when they’re nervous or anxious? A conflict is brewing, are they looking for an escape? Do their eyes keep darting to other distractions, or to look for an opening?

THE FIRST MOVE. Who makes it and why? Example taken from a threeway thread involving Matsumoto Rangiku, Nnoitra Gigla, and Ichimaru Gin. Featuring @oboete-iru & @despairforme respectfully. Gin’s POV:

“ ❝ I saaaid... that’s e-nou-gh. Besides, why would ya go ‘n break her wieldin’ arm if she ain’t a thre---- ❞ in a flashing beam, a bared blade, his left foot swept back to brace as black-lined white billowed to reveal Shinso’s lunging bite directly past Rangiku’s hip------to drive a deep unrelenting strike into his upper ribcage; close to the armpit of the limb that held her still in favor of convincing the uncoiling reflex of his fingers. Gin aimed with precision, and with deliberate proximity to the very target he wished to not be thrown into the line of fire----quite impossible for the Espada to potentially thrust her into the fray considering Gin’s angled approach... lulled by his interrupted speech. The traitor sought to be swift; the blow would surely send the Espada backward in its connection------and hopefully result in her release. ”

Throwing the first punch is a decisive moment for many reasons, but it also should still speak to your character: DON’T EVER FORCE A FIGHT THREAD FOR THE SAKE OF ONE, if your character would rather talk their way out of a situation, exhaust that route first before going feral at your thread partner.

With that aside, let’s dissect this moment.

We get some dialogue to start the moment off, because Gin is a character who will casually chat, but he’s also cunning -- he interrupts himself to create a more abrupt attack. The motion is described as swift, so NOT MUCH IS SAID ABOUT EXACT MOVEMENTS, but we get what we need: his blade is drawn (”a bared blade”) it’s moving fast (“a flashing beam”) Gin has added strength to this strike by falling into a wider stance (“left foot swept back to brace”) and we also get where he’s aiming “directly past Rangiku’s hip to drive a deep and unrelenting strike into [Nnoitra’s] upper ribcage, close to the armpit” We also get motivation: Gin wants Nnoitra to let go of Rangiku, striking to “convince the uncoiling reflex of [Nnoitra’s] fingers” -- so we get this all relatively quick. In fact, it’s all almost condensed into one big sentence.

I don’t really worry about proper sentence structures and lengths because in fights, things should not be adhering to neat sentence pacing, they should be paced the way the fight is unfolding. Gin moves fast, and a lot of things happen at once, so that’s my style choice when writing a lot in one sentence. You can do things differently, this is just my preference!

Notice that none of the language implies that Gin’s target is being struck. The words and phrases used are open for Nnoitra to respond to, to react to, rather than to submit to. I describe things as “quite impossible” for Nnoitra to, say, throw Rangiku in front of Shinso in time -- because I want to stress the speed of Gin’s attack, and guide Nnoitra’s writer away from doing something I feel wouldn’t be realistic without the outright act of godmodding. I say this, however, by still giving Nnoitra the OPTION to do exactly what I have just stressed as DIFFICULT TO DO. Maybe he can still try to throw Rangiku into the way! It’ll be a tight window, but hey, surprise me! Writing this moment also shows that my character is actively deciphering yours, deciding what they could do and preparing for that: Gin knows Nnoitra’s dirty, and thus he’s taken a measure to avoid Rangiku paying the price by striking quickly and at an angle that would make it hard for Nnoitra to bring her harm.

At the end of this Moment(™) I top off the attack by mentioning that IF IT HITS, it’ll do X. Not only that, but IF MY ATTACK HITS, IT’LL DO X TO YOUR CHARACTER, AND HOPEFULLY CAUSE X. This sets up a potential chain of events for your writing partner to consider. If they decide that Nnoitra is going to take this hit, they can also consider: will Nnoitra be sent back through a wall, or will he drive his weapon into the ground to slow his skidding enough to avoid that? Will this be enough to make him let go of Rangiku? I have now given Nnoitra’s mun a few things to think about, or “goals” to either reach or adjust the outcome in their following reply. Nnoitra now has to a.) react to an incoming strike b.) be moved by it, either via being struck or by dodging, and c.) deal with holding onto or letting go of Rangiku, with the option of d.) a counterattack at Gin, or at Rangiku, in response to Gin likely pissing him off.

Describing motion that impacts a character other than yours: KEEP YOUR LANGUAGE OPEN, you can legit drop a “if this hits” to keep yourself from unintentionally godmodding contact onto your opponent. If you’re ever unsure, write like your character is thinking: they’re not thinking that their sword has already landed, they’re thinking about what’ll happen IF it does, or WHEN, but in an open-ended sense. The character themselves should never just manifest a blow landing in their heads as they’re swinging it, if that makes sense.

Open-ended language go-to’s for me: “aimed with the desire to cause (insert what’ll happen if your blow were to land, like ‘causing an immense force to blast all debris, and even dare to throw [opponent] backwards’)” or “their weapon sought to (insert what their attack trying to do, like cut off an arm, slash across a chest, or chop at the other’s weapon) with a wide strike” or “they parried, then moved to attempt a disarming scrape of their blade against the other’s, the swinging momentum a convincing pull to urge the swift release of the blade” etc. etc. I’m staying very vague, but the concept’s there!

THESAURUS TIME! Does your character move fast? Swift, fast, quick… those can get a little boring if your character is ALWAYS moving in that nature. So try to sometimes spice things up by playing with words that can replace your common descriptors.

https://www.thesaurus.com/ is your fellow student who’s working on a group project with you -- you shouldn’t lean so heavily on it because they’re not your friend, but it’s there to help you get the job done and together you can spruce up a neat end result.

MAKE SURE THEY STILL MEAN THE SAME THING, and don’t go too crazy as to lose your reader or distinctly destroy your pacing, your style, and your voice. Sometimes simplified is better, like describing the WOOSH of a fast moment as opposed to saying “this moved fast” -- “a WOOSH of the blade” rather than “he swung his blade quickly” can sometimes make a moment more exciting and easier to read without things droning on.

Hey, speaking of droning on, (this post lmao!!! Amirite lads???) does your character’s weapon have multiple ways of being referred to? Since a fight stars your character and their trusty weapon, having a few different ways to title it in your reply can be a lifesaver from sounding too repetitive. Shinso is Gin’s Zanpakuto, a Shinigami’s katana, and it’s in a wakizashi form. This can be called a short-sword, a wakizashi, a soul-slayer, a blade, a sword, a Zanpakuto, a ‘fang’ (swords or blades in general can be called fangs, especially if your character has animal symbolism tied to them), a beam (when it’s being shot) … and a few other things, too, to avoid me having to constantly write “Shinso” or “wakizashi” when moving it during a fight thread. I try not to alternate TOO much, because then it becomes obvious, kind of like when people start deliberately avoiding ‘said’ and it’s a dialogue-heavy scene… don’t go out of your way, this is just to help you avoid having 34 mentions of ‘sword’ in your 5 paragraph reply.

So you threw the first punch, but what happens next? Well, you can actually end your reply once your blow’s been polished up and finished. But a little bit of juicy introspection can’t hurt, too! Your character’s just started a fight, what are they thinking? What’s the damage? Did your character just do something destructive or brash? Tell us how, and what’s to be made of the attack your character just threw. Here’s Gin’s following moment after striking at Nnoitra:

“ … it’d feel nice ( akin to a surging punch ) to slam his blade into the pitiful pawn’s side. One hundred sword lengths called for, due to their confinement, a collision course that involved Nnoitra taking a shortcut through a neighboring wall. No matter the Espada’s tough exterior, solid defenses, Shinso would not stop shy. ”

There’s some more info pertaining to Gin’s attack in here, drizzled with a brief introspection that Gin will feel immensely satisfied if he gets to land a decent hit on Nnoitra (coupled with a “pitiful pawn” quip that notifies readers that Gin really DOES NOT LIKE this character, nor does he think very highly of his status, which may or may not be a chance for the character of Nnoitra to surprise or impress Gin via a hearty fight)

The details of exactly how far Gin’s blow would carry Nnoitra are important due to the nature of Gin’s special ability / sword. Shinso will “not stop shy” implying that Nnoitra’s going to either have to dodge or get slammed, because the blade that’s hitting him won’t stop its travel until it’s 100 katana-length’s long. Now, back up to the first section of this post: describing your character’s surroundings. Gin and Nnoitra are in a hallway, and Gin struck in a way that means the hallway is not going to suffice in terms of room. SO DESCRIBING POTENTIAL DAMAGES IS IMPORTANT: it paints the scene better. If Nnoitra is going to take this hit, this also means that a wall is likely going to crumble and collapse due to how tough and tanky Nnoitra is. Cue a classic anime moment of dust billowing up, rocks tumbling, and rubble shifting.

In all of this, don’t forget to respect your opponent -- Gin’s strike may land, but right from the get go there’s never an assumption that Shinso will be able to pierce Nnoitra’s tough skin. Knowing about your enemy’s special traits and abilities can help you make these moments more respectable: I know that Gin’s Shikai will not be enough to cut past Nnoitra’s hierro, his ‘steel skin’ defense. The most that’s described is the action of Shinso batting Nnoitra aside and into a wall, despite it being a sharp blade, it’s not described as an impaling moment.

That being said, don’t pull your punches if your character is a powerhouse! Respect others, don’t godmod, but also look out for defending your character’s own strengths! This can involve you studying up on how strong your character is in their universe, and finding some relations and comparisons to draw from in order to properly ‘rate’ them against your opponent. This can also lead you to a very IMPORTANT step, though not always required if both writers feel comfortable enough to proceed unplanned: TALK TO THE WRITER.

Discuss what you think your character is capable of vs. their character in a respectful way, open to hearing “actually, I don’t think that would happen” or “maybe we can go this route instead, since my character can x y and z?” Learning how to protect your character’s power while also being mindful and open to your writing partner’s character can lead to a really fun exchange and a memorable fight. You can literally drop a tentative “hey, I’m replying to our thread and Gin wants to punch Nnoitra in the face” and be responded to with a “go for it, it’ll probably break Gin’s hand” or “oh snap! that’s his one weakness!!!” LOL. I mean, unrealistic, but seriously talk to your writing partner about things if this is something you’re both passionate and excited about!

PLEASE, PLEASE REMEMBER THAT FIGHTS SHOULDN’T HAPPEN IN VOIDS, if you feel like your characters should be interrupted, or end in a draw, or lose interest / dissolve back into talking rather than fighting, then do this! Will your character chose to run away if the fight starts going south for them? Will your character try to offer a merciful end, will they be open to sparing the wounded enemy character if they feel they’ve successfully won? Does your character end up saving the other character by getting them medical help? This can go so many different ways than just blankly fighting and someone winning whilst the other dies.

CONSEQUENCES! What will the consequences of this fight be? For Gin, he has struck out at a supposed ally in defense of a Shinigami intruder that by all means should be considered the enemy. He can get into some trouble for this, or at the very least gain some speculation on where his loyalties lie if word gets out about what he’s done. Other consequences include, too, the very real threat that if Gin fails, Rangiku’s going to be killed. Find how this fight between characters can ADD MORE WEIGHT. Gin really wants this battle to end quickly and quietly. It’s going to drive him to act in a no-nonsense manner, too, because he doesn’t have time to play around. THIS IS VASTLY DIFFERENT, DUE TO THE CURRENT CONSEQUENCES, IN COMPARISON TO HIM PLAYING AROUND WITH ANOTHER MUN’S CHARACTER IN A LESS STRESSFUL SETTING.

Long term consequences, and calling back to a past fight thread in a later thread can make things extra spicy. For example, now Rangiku knows that Gin’ll fight one of his own to defend her; he can no longer pretend to be some emotionless husk standing on the opposing side in the war, he can be confronted about this moment -- by Nnoitra, too, or by other characters who are told about what happened. Gossip’s a bitch, right lads?

Now let your character recover: have them take that nap, or indulge yourself in some juicy hurt/comfort threads with an ally of yours, or some angst about a lost fight hitting your character’s confidence and mentality hard; do they train, do they rest, do they seek out someplace safe to heal, do they hunt down their rival / opponent for a second try? Are they now afraid of certain things, do they have trauma? Near-death experience, or a major injury that now hinders them?

This is a great resource to writing injuries (tw for blood and other graphic depictions of violence, injuries, detailed there) If you’re not squeamish, you can really dive into the medical side of things and study up what kind of damages your character may be faced with. It’s alright to not be totally realistic, though, considering much of what’s being written is based entirely on fake super-powered scenarios.

Sometimes, when struggling on how to describe movement, I’ll go onto Youtube and look up “Battle choreography” or “top ten realistic swordfights” or other relatable content to assist me creatively. Watching things in slow motion or multiple times to nail the positioning can help immensely. By watching similar-themed fights, I can see how those people are moving and try my best to describe that motion in written form. I try to avoid TV/Movie scenes that have been obviously hounded on for their anti-realism, especially sword fights, the common victim to Hollywood’s ridiculousness. But hey, if your character is an absolute mad lad and can pull a John Wick moment, then pull up that badass clip and go for it!

THERE’S SO MUCH TO EXPLORE, SO HAVE FUN WITH IT!

#[ roleplay resource ]#[ out of character ] masquerade; hide your face #long post #PHEW.#this was extra hard and annoying considering a few of my laptop keys have been popping off.#also: i'm not trying to toot my own horn by using my own writing as examples to dissect: i'm well aware that my writing isn't perfect.#i just didn't want anyone to feel weirded out if i put their writing under a spotlight.

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slashiest-slasher · 5 years ago

Note

since you've watched black christmas could you do a poly billy lenz and brahms ficlet???

I’m just going to go under the assumption that the reader hopped across the pond to be Brahms nanny and an obsessed Billy followed for whatever reason

also i just found this new emoticon and it’s 100% Brahms when you don’t give him enough attention or try to leave: (´༎ຶ۝༎ຶ). i’m still trying to characterize Billy so pls forgive for any discrepancies.

Read more bc i ramble for waaay to long lmao. Warnings for classic Billy dirty talk

Billy/Brahms/s/o polyship

All you wanted was to leave behind that entire fucking mess that happened over at your college. All the murders at the sorority you were 100% not supposed to be crashing at, the creepy crank calls that left shivers up your spine, and the distinct feeling there was someone up in your attic.

You thought, hell, I just graduated! Why not take up a job in an entirely different country? If it’ll get you away from the nightmares of all the dead bodies and heavy breathing voices and squeals from the phone.

The instructions you were left were more than cryptic, and the following days when you couldn’t contact the Heelshire’s at their hotel room was even more puzzling. the whole mystery surrounding the doll left your head spinning, but it was the creaking from the walls that sent shivers up your spine.

When a grown, and very hairy man wearing a mask crawled out when you tried leaving just for a walk through town. He had grabbed you shyly by your sleeve and asked you in a small and babyish voice to stay.

For a moment, you were going to run. It was the same, someone hiding within the unseen part of the house, watching you, but the demure way he was presenting himself was nothing like you imagined the Moaner to act like. Then that baby voice clicked, and you knew that this must be Brahms, somehow alive after all those years.

Things were different and the same since then. He was more obvious with crawling through the walls, and you saw more of this man who easily and regularly overpowered you. But he had the temperment of a child and that was easy to deal with, as long as you spoke to him like one.

Yeah, sometimes when you gave him his goodnight kiss he would try pushing things further, and you would have to scold him and tell him that was a very rude thing to do. But in all honestly, it was an easy life to be lulled into, and aside from the occasional nightmare or flashback, that whole mess at the sorority was nearly completely forgotten.

You were pushed into a full relapse when the hallway phone rang while you were preparing. You managed to get Brahms to stir the pot of soup, despite him being barely able to stand from the cold he caught, with him whining about it the entire time.

“Heelshire residence,” yous chirped, leaning against the wall. But all you got in response was dead air. “Hello?” You repeated several times, each time more and more dread rising in your gut.

Eventually, there was a shrill giggle on the other end. “Agnes, it’s me Billy!” he says in a moment of composure. “Don’t tell them Agnes, don’t tell them where you are. It’s just us.” He lets out a heavy, shaking sigh before snorting and snuffling. “I- I’ll fuh- fuck your piggy ass, lick you aaallll up. G-g-give you my f-fat juicy cock!”

Your legs give out underneath you, but you clutch the receiver to your ear. “This isn’t fucking funny! How’d you get this number?” He couldn’t be here, didn’t Jess kill him? And how does some sick fuck like him even get a plane ticket, let alone make it through an airport?

Brahms peers into the hallway, but you shoot him a look and wave him away.

“You wa-want me stick m-my tongue up your pretty pinky ass? Filthy, filthy Billy, I’ll fuck y-y-y-you all good. Know you wants it, seen y-you piggy, seen you all pink and bothered when Billy calls,” he lets out another choking laugh. “I’m going to get you,” he says, before the line goes dead.

The receiver smacks into the wall when you finally let it out of your grasp. You expected there to be tears, for there to be something but heat and dread and anxious excitement roiling deep within, but there isn’t and it makes you sick.

You can hear the gas stove click off, and Brahms walks into the hallway. His eyes bug momentarily when they catch yours and see how blank they are. He scoops you up into his arms and sets you down on a nearby chair. His hands grab your face. “Who was that? Is everything okay?”

You plop your face into his shoulder, and even though you have been increasing the amount of hug you give him the past few weeks, he still flinches. “Just some creep crank calling. Nothing to worry about Brahmsy.”

You have to push yourself up, and lead him back to the kitchen where you finish up dinner, and manage to get him to eat an entire bowl before the heat made him too drowsy to sit upright.

It was quite the task to get up the stairs and into the master bedroom to tuck him in. You go through the entire routine even though there was still light in the sky. He promises to stay in bed the entire night if you kiss him under his mask, and your mind is too far away to clearly deny him.

He covers your eyes with a large, overheated hand when he takes off his mask, and leads you down to press his lips to yours. He, of course, presses more urgently and runs his tongue along your lips, and tries to pull you into bed with him, like he does every night.

“Brahmsy, not tonight sweetie,” is all you can muster up.

“But some night?” How hopeful he sounds makes a weak smile come to your face.

“Lets get you over this cold first, then we’ll see. But if you’re a bad boy and get out of bed in the night, then it’ll be longer.”

Brahms doesn’t even care about you catching a glimpse of his face when he rushes to snuggle underneath the covers you pulled up tight around him, partially hiding his face.

You can see the smile in his eyes when you lean down to place a kiss to his forehead and ruffle his hair. “Call me if you need anything, alright?”

He nods and clutches the blankets tighter, pulling them up higher when you leave the room.

You don’t go back to your own bedroom, and instead head to the main foyer and sit down with a book in your lap, keeping a fixed stare at the main entrance, and Brahms’ hidden ones out of the corner of your eyes. If Billy was going to try and pull something, then let him. He was going to be in for a world of hurt if he disturbed Brahms, or something else entirely if he beelined straight for your.

The only reason you never picked up on Brahms crawling through the walls as keenly was, according to him, he knew how avoid making noise. Everything else echoed through the house like a gunshot. Every time Brahms tossed himself to his other side in his sleep, or when the heater clicked on, or the rats (friends, assured Brahms) in the walls scurried around.

So you heard as soon as the unlocked backdoor creaked open and softly shut, and someone padded through the house. You ensured that every window and door, sans that one was shut and locked tightly, and all the lights in that part of the house were turned off.

You didn’t know how he got into the sorority the first time, but you knew the girls there chronically forgot to lock the doors and windows.

Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness, so you could easily see a thin form go by the doorway of the foyer. “Billy,” you called out, loud enough for him to hear, but not enough for Brahms to pick up on.

Unlike his phone calls, he was deathly silent as he backtracked and entered the room. You could see an outline, a lithe man in a turtleneck and shoulder length hair. But the only thing you could see clearly was an eye illuminated by the moon coming a crack in the curtain.

He stood there in the middle of the room, staring you down. In a jerky movement, he lunges for you.

If you hadn’t been dealing with the living Brahms for the better part of a month, you likely would have tried to run, maybe scream, but you sat perfectly still, and gripped his wrist tight when he wrapped a hand around your throat.

He didn’t squeeze, maybe because of how surely and firmly you grabbed him, but let it rest there. Loose, but there was no way you were going to pry his hand off.

“What is it that you want from me Billy?” you asked, grabbing his other wrist, much tighter than the other one. “Do you want to kill me?” Your voice is soft.

He tries stuttering something out, but he can’t get the words to form, and his body shakes too much to keep his gaze on your face.

You can see his eye drift down to look at the rest of your body. “Do you want to fuck me Billy? You followed me all the way here for that?”

“Sick fuck!” he finally manages to get out, his voice not sounding like any you remember hearing over the phone. “Sick fuck! Sick fuck! Need help, Billy needs help. Need to find Billy, need to get Billy the help he needs. Want to give Billy a hug, a good hug, a tight hug. Billy needs a hug.”

It clicks when he rambles. You. That was you. You remember speaking with Claude after a call, because none of the sorority sisters wanted to hear about how the Moaner needed some serious psychiatric care. You held Claude in your your and sat right underneath the attic while you told that silly old cat in a hushed whisper what you really thought about Billy.

You’re just glad he has the hindsight to not bring up what you said right before, about how Billy’s ramblings turned you on, and how you’d probably let him go down on you if the mad lad just asked.

Billy suddenly collapsed into your lap, letting go of your neck. His legs bracketed yours on either side, clutched his hands tightly into the front of your shirt, and hid his face in your neck. Between the snuffles and snorts, you could make out him saying, “Billy wants help, if you give it to Billy. Give soft fuzzies and hugs and kissies.”

You wrap your arms around him, tight and sturdy to keep him pressed to your chest. He quiets down to barely audible muttering, but presses his face closer to your neck, taking in deep breaths of your scent. “I’ll help Billy, as long as Billy wants it.” Your assure him, rubbing his back.

He nods, and for a brief moment, everything is still and calm until the lights of the foyer are flipped on. You’re blinded for a moment until you can make sense of Brahms pulling Billy off of your and onto the floor.

You can see the rage and heat pulsing behind his eyes, a snarl on his unmasked face as he advances on Billy’s stunned and trembling form with a knife he must have snatched from the kitchen.

You don’t really think before launching yourself off the sofa. “Brahms, don’t you dare!” you shout at him, gripping the blade before he can swing it down.

Brahms drops it the instant he sees your blood spilling into the floor, but redoubles when Billy hides behinds your legs and grabs onto them. “You can’t have someone else! I’m the only one you’re allowed to love.” He grabs you by your wounded hand, squeezing tight, but you refuse to falter. He voice drops to his deep, adult voice. “You aren’t leaving me.”

There’s only one way you know how to deal with Brahms when he’s like this, so you square your shoulder and look him in the eyes, squeezing his hand back even tighter, no matter how much it hurt. “Brahmsy you are being an extremely naughty boy. You go back to your room right now and we will talk about this in the morning.”

Something vicious flashes in his eyes, flickering between adult and child. “No!” he stomps his foot. “I’m not letting him take you away from me.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Billy reaching for the fallen knife, so you stand on the blade. “You’re already not getting goodnight kisses for a week because of this, if you want that to be a month, you better get your ass up the bed!”

His eyes widen and he falters. “Y- you’re not leaving?” he asks, letting your injured hand drop.

“Shhh Agnes, don’t tell them we did. Naughty, filthy Billy, they get mad,” Billy whispers, looking up at Brahms. “Billy, Billy where’s the baby? What did you do to the baby?” his voice turns shrill, completely unlike himself.

“Shut up,” Brahms snaps, glaring at him. “He’s not staying here.”

“Yes, he is, because I’m in charge and I say so,” you snip right back, kneeling down to wrap your arms around Billy’s shoulders. “Billy, this is Brahms. We don’t hurt Brahms okay?”

In a voice eerily similar to yours, Billy speaks up again. “Brahms, naughty naughty Brahmsy. Do you know Agnes, Brahmsy?”

#billy lenz #brahms heelshire #billy lenz x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms x reader #black christmas #billy lenz hc #brahms hc #Anonymous #bb polyship

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writingthrones · 5 years ago

Text

the northern dragon- part 3.

PART 3: INDEPENDENCE.

TAGS: @psychosupernatural , @xleviiiix , @ashtronomyyyy , @starkbelova , @5aftermidnight , @makapaka11 , @mxxkscreate-write , @scorpiosmalfoy , @harrison-shot-first (feel free to shoot me a message if you’d also like to be tagged!)

DESCRIPTION: the world thought that just 2 dragons survived, that house targaryen was missing its third head. but there was another– the youngest, the final child of the mad king and queen rhaella. of course, she was almost part of the near extermination of her house. but the honorable ned stark, unable to watch a babe be murdered for crimes she did not commit, rescued her from an awful fate. instead, she grew up amongst wolves within the walls of winterfell.

NOTES: things are really beginning to take off in this part! it’s only gonna get more intense from here so i hope y’all are ready. thanks so much for being patient with me! i really want to get these parts out as fast as i can because i know how much waiting sucks when you’re really invested in a story but i also wanna make sure that it feels like the story is furthering itself along rather than just mindless filler before things suddenly take a turn. also i know i’ve messed with the timeline a bit but try not to think about it too much please lmao. it’s been a little confusing going back and forth between episodes and writing but it should all still make sense. any kind of feedback is welcome and thank you to everyone who has given some so far!

WARNINGS: ned’s death :( so angst, naturally.

When Lady Stark learned of what you had done, she was reasonably upset. You were someone who she cared for, a woman and someone not meant for battle. She did scold you, saying that what you had done was foolish before becoming softer and explaining that she just worried and needed you around while they sought to reunite their family. She helped you tend to your wound and when the next battle came, she was sure to keep you close to her to make sure that you didn’t sneak off again. You understood, of course, but it didn’t make it any less disappointing. The thrill of battle was like a drug and you couldn’t help but to seek more. Who knows what kind of action Robb would have to take if you continually disobeyed him, though.

After finishing tending to what wounds you could, you were headed back for your tent. As you did, though, you had to pass the cage that was housing The Kingslayer. The man who murdered your father, breaking his oath and driving a sword through his back. You knew he was a truly evil man but it didn’t stop the feeling of anger that swelled in your chest. Clenching your jaw and fists, you picked up your pace.

“Hey, girl!” he called. It caused you to jump slightly, then stop dead in your tracks. Why would he be calling to you, a random peasant girl who just so happened to be taken along with the Northern army. You had half a mind to keep walking and act as if you’d never heard him but instead you swallowed hard and turned to face him. Stepping close-- but not too close-- to the bars, you stared down at him. “What?” you questioned simply.

“I.. remember you,” he said with sudden realization as the light of the torch lit your face. “Yes... you’re the Stark’s pet!” he said, smirking, clearly pleased with the way it had obviously gotten under your skin. It certainly wasn’t the first time you’d heard something like that. You stepped back, ready to walk away and never look back. “Wait!” he called again. Cursing the curiosity you felt, you stepped forward again. “What do you want?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“You’re actually quite pretty, do you know that?” he tilted his head, the pleased smirk never wavering. He knew exactly what he was doing. “It’s a shame they keep you all covered up like an old hag.” It was easy to see through the game he was playing but that didn’t make it hurt any less. You had to remind yourself, though, that it wasn’t their fault. Had it not been for all this, you’d be dead. Was beauty really worth risking your life? Opening your mouth to speak, he cut you off. “Anyways, I’m sure you’ve heard...” his voice trailed off and you waited for his next words with bated breath. “A Lannister always pays his debts. And if you freed me now, my father would grant you riches you couldn’t possibly imagine. You’d finally be out from underneath their thumb. Do you really want to shrivel up and die in that freezing and quite frankly, depressing place? Of course not. So let me go right now and we will both escape. Nothing and no one will be able to touch you so long as you’re by my side and once you’ve been repaid, you’ll be free to go wherever you like.” Speechless, all you could do was stare.

“So what do you say?” he finally asks, obviously annoyed by your silence. Swallowing hard, you responded, “No.” Turning around without looking back, you walked away. You could hear him call out again, but that only made you quicken your pace. After making it into your tent, you fell to your bed and began to hyperventilate. Tears pricked at your eyes as you put your hands over your face. You hated yourself for considering the offer, even if it was only a split second. You loved the Starks, you wanted nothing more than to bring Ned and the girls home but... there was a longing to be more than a peasant girl. Being a noble, a royal, it meant you could... but you shoved away the thoughts. It didn’t matter because it could never happen. All that could be done was to accept the life you were given. It was a good one, even if it was not the one that had been originally laid out for you.

You woke up to the sound of your tent’s entrance being thrown open harshly. Startled, you pulled the covers up over yourself. Thankfully, it was Lady Stark. But she was disheveled; swollen, red eyes and visibly shaking. “Y/N...” her voice broke. “Lord Stark, he’s...” You felt your heart sink into your stomach as you waited for her to finish the sentence. “He’s gone. Joffrey beheaded him for treason.” Just saying the words out loud caused her pain. Hurrying out of bed, you threw your arms around her. She squeezed you for a moment before backing up to look at you. “Cover yourself, quickly,” she said while sniffling. Her tone was that of worry. Nodding, you hurried over to your trunk completed the wrap. Walking back to her, your eyes grew wide and watery. “And Sansa? Arya?” you questioned, voice shaking. “We know that they are holding Sansa. Arya..” she broke, tears trailing down her cheeks as she screwed her eyes shut. Opening them and trying to calm her breathing, “No one is quite sure where she is.”

Grief began to intertwine with rage as you thought about that sick bastard who beheaded the man who risked everything to save your life. He would pay-- no matter what it cost you-- you would make sure that he paid with his mistake in blood. “We’re going to get them back,” you said, trying to keep yourself from completely breaking. “I know we are. We’re going to get them back and-- and Joffrey will pay!” All she could do was nod. “I’ll leave now,” she said quietly then exited without another word. You quickly dressed and when you left your tent, you could feel the difference in the air. The tension was thick. The Northerners were truly bloodthirsty now, if they hadn’t been before. Taking note of his absence, you began to search for Robb. It didn’t matter that you two weren’t on great terms (and hadn’t truly been in years, frankly), you needed to see him in a time like this. You needed him to know that you were ready to do anything and everything to make sure that Ned’s death was avenged.

After some searching, you followed the sound of grunting. Lifting your light skirts, you made your way through the wood until you saw him-- striking a tree in a clearing. He hadn’t noticed you at first and you watched him, eyes watering as you did so. Not once did you flinch, instead feeling the tears streak down the fair skin of your cheeks. He finally turned to you and you quickly wiped them away. “Robb..” you said as you inched closer, noticing the wetness of his cheeks, the glassy look and red nose. His breathing was heavy and it seemed as if he stared right through you. Carefully, you made your way closer. He dropped his weapon and, taking this as a good sign, you finally got within arm’s length of him. “They killed him,” was all he managed to get out. Nodding, you reached for his hand, causing him to recoil. “No, I...” he couldn’t complete his sentence but he just looked to you, eyes wide. “We’ll make him pay. Every last one of them, they’ll all pay for what they’ve done. I’ll-- I’ll make sure of it.” You didn’t sound nearly as strong as you had with Catelyn.

His expression hardened slightly, while yours did the opposite. “Please,” you said, your indigo eyes pleading. He said nothing, instead just reaching out to touch your hand as you had his. You looked down at them and took a risk as you inched closer, drawing a deep breath before wrapping your arms gently around his neck and embracing him. He was as stiff and still as could be before finally allowing himself to wrap his arms just as gently, if not more so, around your waist. It felt like you were children again. The tender moment was over just as quickly as it began, though. Neither of you said a word as you broke apart. “We will,” he nodded before walking past you. He hadn’t elaborated on the extent to which he would allow you participate. Nonetheless, you were happy to get some cooperation finally. You absolutely refused to stand aside as a pathetic excuse for a medic but now had not been the time to fight him on it. Maybe it was just in the moment but you wouldn’t push any further on the subject.

It was impossible to sleep that night. All you could think about was the final moments of Ned’s life and wondering what Sansa was doing and what they could be doing to her to make the Starks suffer even more. And Arya, where could she possibly be? Had she escaped or was she just dead somewhere? The thoughts were racing and endless, nearly sending you into a panic attack just lying there in your bed. So you shot up, panting and hurried over to your trunk and threw on the wrap. You exited the tent, the brisk air giving you a sense of relief. Men could be heard recounting their experiences in the battles and discussing what the next move would be or what they thought it should be. Walking through, you kept from making eye contact with any of them. All you needed was just a moment to breathe without being disturbed. That’s when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Jumping, you turned around quickly and took several steps back. Eyes adjusting to the low light, you saw that it was Theon. A sigh of relief fell from your full lips.

“Sorry...” his normal tone was understandably gone. No one could manage their usual act today. “I want you to know that it’s clear you know what you’re doing and you deserve to be out there with us. I know what Lord Stark meant to you, you deserve to fight for him, too.” You didn’t know what to say but it really didn’t matter, because he turned and walked away immediately. Sighing, ventured to the edge of camp and leaned on a tree, staring up at the moon. After calming yourself as much as possible, you returned to your bed and succumbed to pure exhaustion.

The air felt different again the next morning. It was less melancholic. Everyone was ready to continue the advance, to cut down every Lannister that came their way. But there was no battle to be had today, only gaining ground and planning the next move. Riding beside Lady Catelyn, you stole a glance at Robb every so often. You wanted to be beside him, to join in the planning and fight together.

When you finally set up camp, there was really nothing to do. Robb had been cooped up since you stopped with all his advisors and the rest of the men polished their weapons, drank and ate. With the lack of action, all you could do was find whatever mundane chores would be useful. Nightfall came and there was a more formal dinner to which you had been invited. It was a time to raise the morale and prepare the men for the hardships to come. You didn’t have anything to say and instead watched the others, finally being able to smile after the news had hit. Your eyes always seemed to find their way to Robb but you tried to keep them away. The men eventually directed the conversation to the growing conflict, discussing this issue with the Iron Throne. Ned had died trying to reveal the truth about Joffrey and the true heir. Robb clearly wanted to honor his father’s wishes, but the men wondered why they should bother themselves with what these Southerners did.

“Why shouldn’t we rule ourselves again?” said Lord Karstark, looking out to each and every lord. “It was the dragons we bowed to and now the dragons are dead!” Your eyes went wide for a moment as you remembered it was your ancestors who took their independence. Your namesake had been the one to take the Vale, a land thought to be impenetrable. “There sits the only king I mean to bend my knee to-- the King in the North!” he exclaimed, unsheathing his sword as he got down on one knee. Robb rose from his seat and the other lords began to join in. Theon pledged himself to the man who he called a brother and then the chants began. Surely it could’ve been heard for a ways away. Your eyes fell on Robb’s shocked face as you felt yourself truly smile. For a second, his eyes fell on you and you swore you could see a smile. Just as quickly, though, they flicked away and moved back and forth to watch all the men.

You returned to your bed that night with a smile on your face you’d thought impossible after all that had happened. So Robb Stark, the boy you’d grown up alongside, was a now a king. The King in the North, they had cheered, who would deliver revenge and take back their independence. You felt happy for him and yet.. there something else, a feeling you couldn’t quite explain. Deciding not to dwell on it, you threw the furs over yourself and drifted off to sleep.

The dream tonight, a memory of your past, was not so pleasant. You were 13 at the time, same as Jon, with Robb and Theon newly 14. They were all starting to truly pay attention to girls, though Jon was not nearly as obvious as the previously mentioned two. This all meant that they paid less attention to you, save for Jon. The once sweet relationship between you and Robb was all but forgotten. He was growing into a man now and he had no time for you. It was about the time for Lord and Lady Stark to start considering marriage prospects, which meant for lots of feasts inviting the various noble houses of the North. You were lucky enough to be included in such occasions though you never really wanted to be there. Often, you would sneak away to keep Jon company. He had never been allowed to attend such events, breaking your tiny heart. This particular night, though, you happened to stick around when young Sansa insisted you should. Unable to refuse the girl, you nodded with a forced smile and sat beside her. She told you all about the family who had been invited this time. You nodded every so often to let her know you were listening when you heard snickering. Your brow furrowed in confusion and that’s when you began to hear whispers coming from somewhere behind you. “Why does your father even let her come to these anymore? The girl’s an eyesore.” The voice was unmistakably Theon’s, followed by nothing but a chuckle from Robb. You felt your heartbeat quicken and your face flush with embarrassment. Sansa clearly took note of the way your demeanor changed but by the look on her face, she hadn’t heard what you did. “Y/N...?” she asked, though she sounded so far away. As the tears started to well in your eyes, you hurried to pick up your skirts and slip out of the Great Hall without causing any kind of scene. As soon as you were out of there, you began to wail. Dashing down a quiet hall, you tried to lower yourself to a silent sob as you sat leaning up against a wall.

The next morning you were dressing when you had been disturbed by someone barging in. You pulled the top half of your dress tight to your chest, leaving your back exposed to whoever had come without knocking. “Y/N--oh!” said Theon. Your face was red but luckily he was unable to see. “I’m sorry, Y/N...” his voice sounded distracted and you didn’t even want to imagine what his thoughts might be. “We are leaving soon but, uh, Robb wanted to speak to you first.” You nodded, “I need to dress first, obviously.” He didn’t give a response, though you noticed there was a few moments before he finally stepped out.

You pulled up the top and zipped yourself in before smoothing out the skirts. Why would Robb need to speak to you privately? Swallowing the lump in your throat, the heart in your chest thudding at an unnatural pace. You took a deep breath before holding your head up high. He may be a king now but you would not cower subserviently. Making your way quickly through camp, your hand reached out to grab hold on the fabric that acted as an entrance to his quarters. You were no longer facing Robb Stark, the acting Lord of Winterfell but King in the North Robb of House Stark.

#game of thrones imagine #robb stark imagine #robb stark x reader #theon greyjoy imagine #targaryen!reader #the northern dragon.

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elsaclack · 5 years ago

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I love all of your stories, you're an amazing writer! I'm not sure if you're taking requests rn, but if you are, maybe a soulmate au where it's canon (jake and amy are together and getting married), but they aren't soulmates and the puzzler ends up being amy's soulmate (they stay together ofc).

me reading this concept for the first time

anyways this is also 40,000 years late and i sincerely hope you’re still following me/will see this anon lmao

the basic concept is that soulmates are denoted by matching tattoos which i think makes sense but also you can blame @startofamoment for jake/sophia’s matching tattoos HONESTLY

He waits for her in the living room.

It hadn’t taken much thought, in all honesty - he’d just thrown himself down on the first available surface upon trudging through the front door, which just happened to be the couch. He hadn’t bothered messing with the lamps on either end table or the light over the sink in the kitchen; sunlight was still streaming in through the windows at that point and he didn’t really care all that much about seeing, anyways.

Not when all there was to look at was an empty apartment.

Of course, he hadn’t counted on her being gone for so long. Hours passed - darkness grew - and with it came an impenetrable mountain of dread.

Amy Santiago - his fiancée - finally found her soulmate.

He was there. He’d seen the exact moment her eyes landed on the little puzzle piece-shaped tattoo on the inside of Vin’s wrist. He’d seen her body freeze, the color drain from her face. He’d seen her fingers absently brush against her right hip - the place where her puzzle piece tattoo, identical to Vin’s, is hidden. And he’d seen the understanding light Vin’s eyes.

And his world had fallen to pieces in a matter of seconds.

His own soulmate, a whip-smart defense attorney with sparkling eyes and a dazzling personality, had decided long ago that he was far too immature and didn’t quite live up to her standards in a significant other. She’d left him heartbroken and alone at a bed and breakfast in Rhode Island.

He hasn’t seen her in years, but he heard she still covers her chicken wing-shaped tattoo with heavy makeup.

With Amy, things were different. She’s never been one to be tied down by the concept of a soulmate; she is the fiercest champion of free will he’s ever met. And he has to admit - being in love with someone who actively chooses to love him back is an incredible feeling.

Of course, it’s certainly less than incredible right now.

The apartment is nearly pitch-black by the time he hears her key in the lock on the front door. He keeps his eyes closed and face stubbornly hidden in the couch cushions when she steps inside, and she’s quiet aside from the sounds of her purse and jacket sliding off of her body and thumping against the wall as they settle on her designated hook.

She must have toed her shoes off, too, for her steps are so light they’re nearly silent as she makes her way across the living room, toward him. He clenches his jaw when the cushion above his head dips beneath her weight, and a moment later he feels the warm weight of her hand on the back of his head. “Jake,” she says softly.

It’s like a knife through his heart.

She strokes his hair until he fully sits up, and he shivers as her fingers graze along the side of his neck and down his chest before her hand falls back into her lap. For a moment, the space between them is a bottomless chasm.

Amy moves closer to him, until their thighs are touching, and reaches to pull his left hand into her lap. She doesn’t say anything - just traces the length of his fingers with hers, rolling and flattening them out with her knuckles, gently ghosting the pads of her thumbs along the meat of his palm.

It’s like grinding his heart into a bed of barbed wire.

“Amy,” he says hoarsely, and her fingers still against his hand. “If you’re gonna do what I think you gonna do...please, just - just do it. Please.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees her turn her head to look at him. “What are you talking about?” she asks, voice soft.

He swallows hard, resisting the urge to pull his hand from her grasp. “You were with him for hours,” he mumbles.

“We had a lot to talk about.”

“I know, but - I mean, you have to know what that looks like from where I’m standing, so if you’re leaving me for him I would appreciate it if you would just say it instead of -”

“Stop,” she quietly interrupts, and he feels himself deflate. “I know that this has been really scary for you, and that it’s brought up a lot of really bad memories. I’m sorry that you’ve had to sort through that alone tonight. It isn’t fair. But, Jake - I’m not leaving you.”

The words are droplets of soothing balm against his burning chest; slowly, he turns his head to find her gazing at him earnestly. “What?” he breathes.

“I’m not leaving you.” she repeats slowly. “I knew within the first five seconds, I don’t want to be with Vin. I want you.”

He automatically curls his fingers, capturing hers in a firm squeeze. “Are - are you serious?”

“Vin’s a nice person,” she says, “and I could see why the universe would think that he’s my soulmate. And maybe if you and I had never met, it would have worked out for me and Vin, but that doesn’t matter. Because I want you, Jake. Only you.”

“But he’s your soulmate,” he blurts. “He’s literally perfect for you -”

“He was my soulmate,” she corrects. “He isn’t anymore.”

He blinks, and blinks again, but the earnestness in Amy’s gaze never falters. “What are you saying?”

“My tattoo changed.”

He knows his jaw has dropped, but he can’t help it - his disbelief is a palpable thing. “What?”

“I didn’t notice it until I got in my car to come home, but...it changed. And something tells me that yours changed, too.”

Slowly, he lifts the hem of his shirt, only breaking eye-contact when the spot on his ribs is exposed to open air. And in the exact place where his chicken wing tattoo was not hours ago, a new shape has taken form - about the length and width of his thumb.

“Infinity,” he whispers, following the track the shape creates. Amy’s smiling when he looks back at her, and then she’s leaning away, pulling the hem of her pants down until he catches sight of an identical symbol on her hip. The puzzle piece is no where in sight.

“Infinity,” Amy repeats, squeezing his hand still in her lap. “You’re the right person for me, Jake. I’ve always known that, but now I have the proof.”

Joy, overwhelming joy bubbles up from the deepest layers of his subconscious; he leans forward and kisses her forcefully, grinning like a fool. And Amy kisses him back with equal ferocity, her free hand anchoring in his hair, her lips curling against his.

“But wait,” he gasps as he suddenly pulls away, “if you knew in the first five seconds, why - why were you gone for so long?”

Pity cracks across her expression, but instinctively he knows it isn’t for him. “Vin didn’t, um...he wasn’t quite ready to just let go.” she says carefully.

“He tried to convince you to -”

“It doesn’t matter,” Amy interrupts quickly. “I feel bad for him, because I know firsthand how deeply this can affect a person.” She nods to him, brows rising, and he swallows thickly. “It took a lot longer than I thought it would, but eventually he came around. I think part of him is relieved, honestly. Apparently there’s a woman he works with he’s been interested in but hasn’t made a move on because he’s been looking for - well, for me. Now that he’s not obligated, he’s a free agent.”

He nods, tightening his grip on her hand. “I understand,” he says. “If the roles were reversed, I...I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Well, now you never have to worry about it. You’re never getting rid of me, Peralta.”

“Is that a Santiago guarantee?”

She smothers her laughter against his lips.

#brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn nine nine fanfiction #peraltiago fanfiction #jake x amy #peraltiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #my b99 fics #em answers #Anonymous

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universal-kitty · 5 years ago

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For the F/O Love Tropes ask meme, how about all of 'em with Wrench? 😸

F/O Love Tropes Asks || You’re the maddest of lads...

Aborted Declaration of Love: How long did it take for you to finally confess to your F/O? How did it go? Were there several attempts, or was it just The One?

Well, definitely a few months with the crew... It started around the time of me joining, with Wrench having some interest and vice versa, but it was far MORE time before all that tension could bubble up into a, “Hey, you wanna go out with me?” That, and some meddling on Retr0′s part to make it happen faster, LMAO!

As for how it went... Heh, well, he made his point known, y’know~? So I’d say it was to the point...and I guess “several” attempts were made, but it was all super subtle stuff, y’know? Wordplay that could go any number of ways, so who knows, at the end of the day?

But we made it! Hooray!

Accidental Hand Hold: When did you first hold hands with your F/O?

Hmm... If I remember right, it was because I almost thoughtlessly walked into the street, freaking Wrench out. He grabbed my hand and wouldn’t let go! (It was on one of the “dates” Retr0 set us up on, btw.) I do remember wondering for WEEKS what was going through his head when he did that, though... Aside from “sweaty.”

Wrench later told me “sweaty” was a good summary of his emotions, but also a mix between freaked out and elated beyond belief... So that’s super cute~

After-Action Patch-Up: How does your F/O react when they see you got hurt? How do they tend to your injury?

Predictably, he flies off the fucking handle. Asking how hurt I am, who did it? Does he need to go kick their ass? Does someone have to die??? I have to calm him down before he gets too livid at anyone or anything (yes, thing) and fly away from the handle completely.

After which, he’ll tend to the wound however works best. Grip might be too tight if he’s still worried, but otherwise has a really gentle hand, despite how rough they feel. (It’s really nice, though...)

Almost Kiss: What was your first kiss with your F/O like?

....I think the first time Wrench kissed me, I ascended to nirvana and never quite came back... Cause keep in mind, I didn’t see his face for the LONGEST time. The fact he kissed me at all was the highest honor I could’ve been given...

So anyways, I’m a sap. But what’s new?

Beautiful Dreamer: Who’s usually the first to fall asleep while the other stares and admires?

It all depends on the day, really! Sometimes he goes to bed early and I have some time to admire him... Other times, I go to bed and he stays up a little later, so then he’s the one sparing a few minutes more looking at me while I sleep. Probably half-clinging to a pillow because he wasn’t there for me to snuggle with.

Other times, we’re both in bed and- if we don’t fall asleep at the same time- then it’s one of us trying to get into dreamland to catch up with the other.

Bodyguard Crush: How does your F/O make you feel safe?

Honestly... I guess it’s his superior knowledge of weapons and degree of possessiveness. (That isn’t overwhelming.) I’m definitely a feral little gremlin when it comes to fighting, but that can’t save my ass all the time; being in or thinking we might get into a dangerous situation helps when Wrench knows what he’s doing, no matter what he has on him. (Typically a knife or two, along with a pistol/handgun of some kind.)

For the latter- possessiveness- I’m anxious a lot. There’s no weapon on Earth that’s gonna make me feel safe when I’m getting paranoid or having a panic attack... But you know what does help? Having a husband who’s protective of me. If he sees or overhears me being too trusting of someone who wants to abuse my kindness, he’s on that. He’s the one who reminds me to never return to a forgotten drink or would slap the hand of an offered drink to make sure I’m safe.

If anything happened to me- no matter what my brain comes up with- I’m assured that Wrench would be there in a moment to make sure I’m safe and having fun. If not, then we can go, no pressure.

...I love that about him. It’s nice to not feel pressured by my own anxieties or fears. To feel safe.

Caught In The Rain: How does your F/O react if a sudden rainstorm interrupts your date with them?

He’d probably read my reaction to it. I love rain, but if there were a lot of outdoor activities planned, I might be temporarily bummed about it... Though he’s been with me long enough now to know that I love rain!!

So we’d probably just go outside and play in it until we’re freezing and soaked~

Grow Old With Me: How long have you and your F/O been together?

We’ll have been together 2 years this coming February 15th!

Laugh Of Love: What are some things your F/O does to make you laugh?

All of the ridiculous jokes he makes. He makes so many of them, too!!! Ugh, it’s ridiculous...but I love it. Just as much as he makes dirty jokes or teases me about something or the other; I giggle when I’m flustered, so that fuels him all the more. Wrench is also the classic “class clown” type, so he’ll go to any lengths to get a smile on my face, especially if I’m feeling down...

His recent favorite is to shove his thumbs into my mouth and pull my mouth up. We love our references and though it’s a little creepy (because, y’know....Joker), I still laugh cause at the end of the day, he’s only doing it to be a nerd. I appreciate that. (It’s the same deal as when he says “I know” when I try to tell him I love him; just being a nerd and making references. Besides, if it makes me smile or laugh, why not?)

Love Epiphany: When and how did you realize you loved your F/O? When and how did they realize they loved you?

I think it’s fair to say we realized it pretty early on, just didn’t realize the magnitude of how much we loved each other until far later. Because when Wrench finally asked me out? All those months later? That was the crux of him realizing how much he liked me and how he really wanted to be with me.

...And despite realizing we’re this in love..... I think it’s actually a term that doesn’t quite apply to us, in a way. Because we’re still falling for each other all over again, in different ways. Me initially falling for him was so different compared to when I saw his face for the first time! And when we got married!! It’s been stages of falling in love and I don’t think it’s going to ever stop~

....Cheesy as that all sounds!!!

Marry For Love: Are you and your F/O married? If so, how was the wedding like? If you aren’t, do you plan on getting married, and if so, how would you like it to be like?

Yes, we did~! Almost been married for a year now already, as of December 16th. We had this small, official wedding, then a larger, still-private (friends and my cousin only) deal that was a bit more of an “average” wedding... Complete with playlist as debated and worked on by the both of us!

Post-Kiss Catatonia: How did you and your F/O react to your first kiss together?

Well, I mentioned my side (absolutely starstruck), so for Wrench... Heh, just as elated, if not with more anxiety!! He told me waaaayyy later that- had he more confidence back then- he definitely would have tried to make out with me, but... The prospect was terrifying at the time, so he bailed, of course.

Not that I minded!!! Even just that had us both sitting on cloud nine for a good while...

Sickeningly Sweethearts: Do you and your F/O engage in PDA? If yes, how do the surrounding people react?

Ooooohhhh, you bet we do...not that it’s always tasteful PDA when it’s Wrench, I tell you what.... But ah, what else do I love him for, if not for his best and most perverted of moments? Besides, either way, we make people pretty sick.

There’s passing PDA (giving quick kisses on our way out or as we pass each other by), but if one of us has time on our hands... That’s where we get gross. Cause then it’s a wild card between us being sappy and domestic as hell (petnames and all) OR it’s Wrench getting handsy, eager to get back home... This is usually where food being thrown comes in. On occasion, plastic cutlery.

Either way, nobody’s winning...except us~!♡

You Must Be Cold: How does your F/O keep you warm when it’s cold outside?

Easy. Many blankets, our extra pillows, and maybe a soft, warm sweater if it’s particularly freezing that day/night. We hog the couch in a wrap of warmth, and cocoon like that! Anyone with cold hands or feetsies must warm up quickly or be tossed to the floor in a heap if said cold limbs touch the other!! XP

...Winter’s a fun time. (But this also why I got wool socks the last time I was forced to visit family. Take that, cold weather! I’m onto you!!)

Zip Me Up: Does your F/O help you get dressed for the day? Do you help them?

We usually don’t need to, since we dress pretty casually...but sometimes I help Wrench with his vest. I can do it myself, but if we’re in a rush, then Wrench puts on my spiked choker for me. (Which is fine anyways, since he got that for me. It’s only fitting, right?)

If we get dressy, though... Then it’s basically law. :3c I learned to work with ties for him! And damn, does he look good in a vest and rolled up sleeves...... Mmph~♡

#supernaturalcat98 #Aki answers #self insert #self ship #self insert community #self ship community #otp; purrfect anarchy #HI I LOVE MY HUSBAND SO MUCH DID YA'LL KNOW THIS???#surprise bc it's STILL true!! wrow!#dkfghfjdk but seriously Elo you're the MADDEST of lads #only you would look me in the metaphorical eyes and go #'answer all of them with Wrench' like.....nani #you mad lad I'm so proud of u

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deitiesofduat · 7 years ago

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I was wondering if u can do a bunch of random facts/headcannons for the main cast?

Oh man, I mean, I’m happy to try, but I’m not sure where to start for the entire cast of 10… well, now 11 gods. I know have some that are scattered around the blog’s tags, and also in places other than tumblr, but It’ll take me a bit to find them or think of new ones without revealing spoilers, hmm…

So here’s what I’ll try that’s similar to the 1 Like 1 Fact meme I did on twitter a while ago: for every note this post receives, I’ll add a DEITIES-related headcanon or fact about the main cast. The main cast includes Set, Horus, Anubis, Osiris, Isis, Nephthys, Bastet, Sekhmet, Thoth, Ra, and nowwwww Sobek – and maybe the Set Spawn and the big bad serpent too, if relevant. You can add a note by +liking this post, and if you’re interested in learning about a particular deity, you can mention their name in a comment (and it’s not necessary to reblog this, unless you want to!).

This should help give me a bit more focus and time to think of some decent non-spoiler headcanons/facts to share. I’ll come back to this post in a few hours and add any many as I can, depending on the amount of notes it receives, and I’ll bump and place them under the cut for easy access. So yeah, go for it /o/!!

[1] Been playing with a headcanon where Horus’s Eye can see an object’s or person’s weak spots – though only for like, a moment once it’s activated, cuz I’ve wanted to avoid him being OP (but then again… he’s a literal god… so >>)

Also a related-headcanon where he can see a person’s past injuries thru his Eye too, including the hidden ones that have long-ago healed and left no visible scar. I’d like to draw the ones he “sees” on others one day if I keep it…

[2] Set is the only one of his siblings that doesn’t have an avian sacred animal, and for a while I wanted to keep it that way and literally keep him “grounded” compared to his family (sans Anubis). But I found that he’s sometimes also associated with crows (and falcons??? interestingly enough), and even though I haven’t found solid evidence of this yet, I also like the idea of him being associated with bats even before I read about it in Kane Chronicles I swear– So those 2-3 animals are probably some alternate animal form that he has but just rarely takes.

[3] Actually while I’m at it– aside from the Sha Animal, here’s a list of 30-ish animals that I keep as Set’s canon forms in DEITIES verse (based on a combination of historical speculation, recorded myths, and personal headcanons), and would love to eventually draw him as one day:

Aardvark, African Wild Ass (and Donkey), Giant Anteater, Baboon, Bat, Boar/Pig, Bull, Camel, Crocodile, Crow/Raven, Dog (some sort of sighthound?), Fennec Fox, Fish (Eel?), Gazelle/Antelope, Giraffe, Goat, Goose, Hare/Rabbit, Hippopotamus, [Spotted] Hyena, Jackal, Jerboa, Okapi, Oryx, Panther, Rat, Scorpion, Shark, Snake (Viper), and Zebra/Quagga.

[4] RELATEDLY… I REALLY REALLY like the idea of Set somehow acquiring a Thylacine form even tho it’s in no realistic way in the current timeline because thylacines weren’t native to Africa let alone Egypt. BUT… I JUST… THEY REMIND ME OF SHA ANIMALS SO MUCH o)——–

[5] When I was considering the color schemes for the main cast, I once briefly envisioned a purple/violet scheme for Nephthys, but decided to scrap it because (1) I wanted her colors to contrast with her sister’s and match a bit more with her husband’s and son’s and (2) I found that purple was nigh impossible to find in AE wall art and admittedly worried “maybe it won’t look authentic if I use those colors;;;”

Even though I’m happy with her orange/black/red scheme now, I’ve recently found that purple is a common association / kemetic UPG (or doxa?) with her?? SO THAT WAS INTERESTING… I don’t think I’ll change her color scheme for DEITIES, but maybe I’ll draw her in an alternate purple outfit one day to see how it looks on her >>

[6] One of the reasons why I like Horus, Anubis, and Bastet as their own casual friend group in DEITIES verse is that, because they’re all relatively young gods, they all share the experience/pressure of being measured up against their older royal relatives – Horus being seen as both his father and mother’s legacy and feeling the pressure to restore his family’s throne; Anubis being know for his infamous father, and even having his paternity questioned (via rumors and “myths”); and Bastet being the youngest of Ra’s daughter, sometimes being compared to her sister’s roles and achievements.

They’re all really good at masking any pressure they feel, but they also probably confide in each other about it more than with others, cuz they’ve all “been there.”

[7] Relatedly, one of the earliest version of DEITIES Project, before it was known as “Deities Project,” had Horus, Anubis, and Bastet as the main trio. That’s been changed “for reasons” since then, and their characters were quite different back then, but it might be fun to explore a story that focused on the 3 of them someday.

[8] Okay ya’ll know the part during The Contendings where Horus and Set are racing in stone boats and Horus “wins” by painting his wooden boat to look like stone? I have ideas for how that entire race happens in DEITIES verse that would be fun to explore as a side story, but in order for me to give Horus a “legit” way to win without outright cheating, he covers his boat with stone casing/accents, and after he wins and is confronted about it… well…

HORUS: “The rules we agreed on were to sail a boat made with stone. They said nothing about it needing to be made entirely out of stone.”SET: “…”HORUS: “ :)c ”SET: “…” *Internally raging*

[9] I’ve headcanon’d that Nephthys has her own set of ~7 Shabti who act as her personal assistants while she’s conducting her nightly duties, or working around her home, but I haven’t decided much more past that (still debating on how she acquired them, and if she more-than-likely named them…).

The concept and number were loosely based on how many of the other goddesses had their own sets of 7 as extensions of their power and/or control (7 Ribbons of Hathor, 7 Arrows of Sekhmet, Isis’s 7 Scorpions), and I thought it’d be neat if the Goddess of Service had her own Shabti that exemplified that part of her domain.

[10] Thoth is an avid lover of puzzles, trivia, and strategy games, and he’s also exceptionally skilled at games of chance. He doesn’t gamble or make bets often because he understands the risks, but when he does he tries to be calculative about it… and also has a natural knack for luck going his way (EX: That one game of senet that he won to help assist Nut with having her children… which is another story for another day)

[11] Ummmmm Isis is the only one of the main cast who I haven’t drawn a ref of her sacred animal form yet… or at least, not digitally. Her animal is the kite, but I’ve been debating on a while for what species to base her design on. I like the idea of her kite form looking like the Black-winged Kite, although those species aren’t native to Egypt… but some are native to Africa… and they’re so fricken pretty and they fit her colors so well so I might cave on this ffffffffffff–

[12] While we’re on the subject of sacred animals (and to help me get somewhat closer to the note count lmao I’m trying guys–), Horus’s falcon form is based on both the Peregrine falcon and the Lanner falcon, with more simplified markings for my own sanity when I draw him in dozens of panels.

At one point, I considered making his falcon form leucistic to contrast more with Anubis and Set, buuuuuut I also liked the brown colors on the falcons’ normal coloration, so I kept it. (That and more leucistic birds of prey are hawks, so… maybe for Khonsu tho if I don’t change him to an owl, hmmmm…)

[13] Okay continuing thoughts on animal forms, Bastet is able to shift her cat form into nearly any coloration or breed she desires (aside from her eyes, which remain green), but for the purposes of DEITIES I draw her as a brown cat with light gradation markings. I knew of the Egyptian Mau but also realized the spots would take a lot of effort to redraw in the panels where she appears as a cat (much like the spots on falcons for Horus). I also personally really like solid-colored coats on cats, and in particular I liked the coloration of the Havana Brown, so it may be a little less authentic but it did factor into her colors as well.

[14] I'm still debating on Sekhmet's main hairstyle and want to play with it a bit more -- not the arrangement per se but whether to keep it as locks or to make them more obvious twists -- or perhaps a combination -- since I can see her with both style at certain points in time. Either way, at full length Sekhmet's hair is very long: if she were to loosen her tie and let it fall, her longest locks would reach past her hips.

[15] I initially gave Set yellow eyes because even though he's often depicted with red eyes, I didn't want to over saturate his design with just... well, red -- especially in his animal form where his entire body is covered in red fur (red eyes + red sclera would have been, a lot). I like how his yellow eyes provide some contrast, and I've since found some story-related reasons where his eyes might play some role in the plot… but anything further might be spoilery 8')c

[16] It took me a while to settle on Osiris's "resurrected" skin tone because there were a lot of sources that describe his skin as being green, or blue, or black in coloration. I even tried them out in an earlier color test that I shared on patreon, but I eventually went with black since the color has had various meanings in Ancient Egypt that include both life and death. (It also gave me some opportunity to give green skin to Ptah and blue skin to Hapi to help vary the designs for each of those gods).

[17] Relatedly, Osiris's mortal form is a naturally dark skin tone, but following this death he can no longer appear in that form. He is also unable to travel to the overworld / realm of the living, though I'm still debating on how restrictive this is (if it's limited to his physical body or if he can split his soul under special circumstances, or with assistance). Regardless, most of his correspondence with other deities have to be arranged within Duat for this reason.

[18] I haven't made any plans to designate a spouse or romantic partner for Ra. I understand that there were a number of goddesses that were associated with him in the myths and often said to be his wife, but for that reason it was hard to settle on choosing one -- or multiple, and I realized that for the purpose of the main story it might not be necessary. I also kinda like exploring the idea of this high king and powerful creator deity who's also a happily single father, and where it's not for tragic reasons like the separation from or death of his spouse (not to knock that trope at all tho sdjfdsf). I'm not opposed to him being shipped with anyone though, I just don't think I've been inclined to do it myself lmAO;;

[19] RELATEDLY, while Ra's daughters (Sekhmet, Mafdet, Hathor, Serqet, Bastet) don't have a biological mother, I like to think that they were raised in an environment with a lot of parental figures and mentors to go around, aside from just their father. I haven't quite settled on how it was organized though, but I know that the daughters regard Thoth as something of an uncle/secondary dad (tho their dynamic with Thoth is can vary a lot from the one the have with Ra), as well as their teacher and mentor. I can also see where other gods like Khnum, Khepri, and Bes, and goddesses like Neith, Seshat, Taweret, Ma'at, and Mut, might also have played some direct mentor role in the daughters' upbringing and sense of self.

[20] (squick + implied nsfw) I uh… have this minor gag headcanon where Horus, Isis, and Osiris just don't eat fish. They just… don't. And it's entirely based on that one part of the myths after Osiris's death, where a certain part of Osiris's desecrated body ended up in the river and was swallowed by a fish 8')c (should be noted that I'm not saying that event did happened in DEITIES canon, but I'm also not disputing it either >>).

Apparently that was considered a bad omen, and I still find conflicting information on whether consumption of fish was taboo for some or all in Ancient Egypt (I think "for some" makes better sense, cuz why would an entire society that resides near the Nile river pass up on a perfectly available food source?? But I digress, I might need to review this again so take my thoughts with a grain of salt--). I also admit that I've seen it mentioned that fish are not ideal food offerings for Isis and Osiris?? and I can imagine that maybe Horus adopts the distaste for them as well. Either way, I go with the DEITIES canon that while most people and deities happily consume fish, Horus and his parents will not, and they don't enjoy it as offerings either.

I’MMMMMM gonna end it here for now cuz my headcanons have run dry for the time being, thank you guys!!

#// I'M SRSLY JUST blanking on new facts right now o)-----< but I wanna give this a try later after I make dinner in a bit #// I will… also see if I can make a tag for the headcanon-type replies since it seems that people are interested in them!#DEITIES asks #general asks #meme #Horus #Set #Anubis #Bastet #Nephthys #Ra #Thoth #Isis #Osiris #Sekhmet #headcanons

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abunchofsemicoherentwords · 7 years ago

Text

Pranking Tom

Summary: She comes to visit her roommates, Tom and Haz in Montreal. Harry is there too and along with him, she and Haz prank Tom. It’s the perfect place - they’re surrounded by woods and who knows what lurks amongst those trees.

Based on this gifset. Full video here.

This is part of @spxderman-s and I’s collaborative Roommates Collection, which you can find in full on my masterlist page.

Pairings: Reader (?) x Tom Holland x Harry Holland x Haz Osterfield (Tbh there’s a subtle love triangle situation between reader x tom x harry)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Swearing, that’s it really.

A/n: I recommend watching the video beforehand, or even just having a look at the gifset, just so you have a better understanding of the setting and scenario. Seriously tho, watch the video and imagine Tom as the guy being pranked in it, and it’s the funniest thing you’ll ever see, I promise. I die every time lmao

Shout out to Effie for helping me write this <3 Hope you guys enjoy it, I’d love to know what you think!

Masterlist

She stood in front of the television with her hands on her hips and glared at the three boys lazing on the couch.

“Did you losers finish my Lucky Charms?”

“Can you move, please?” Harrison asked, completely disregarding her question.

“Why do you want Lucky Charms now? We just had dinner,” Tom queried.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“I will have Lucky Charms whenever I damn well please, thank you very much,” she snapped.

“I’ll be your lucky charm, love,” Harry winked at her.

Before she could respond, Tom threw a cushion at his head.

“Shut up, Harry.”

“Ow.”

She watched the exchange, amused at Tom defending her, yet again. Harry had been hitting on her since she had arrived in Montreal. He was unfazed by the age gap, taking every opportunity to make a sly remark or throw a wink in her direction. For her part, sure, he was cute, and she was flattered, but he was still her roommate’s little brother – nothing was going to happen there. If she was being honest though, she was pretty sure he was doing it just to annoy his older sibling, anyway.

“Well, I’m going to go get a new box. Don’t even think about touching it this time,” she said icily.

“How are you going to get there? We need the car to go to the gym in a bit,” Harrison indicated himself and Tom.

“I’ll walk.”

“In the dark? By yourself?” Tom sat up, concerned.

“Hey, lucky charm,” she looked at the youngest boy, “Want to come with me?”

A grin spread across his face when he realised she had chosen him over his brother.

“Sure, darling. I’ll protect you from the monsters in the dark.”

She turned back to Tom.

“Happy?”

He simply rolled his eyes.

“I would have bought you Lucky Charms on the way home,” he muttered under his breath. She didn’t hear him.

“Drive safe, boys. See you later,” she pulled on her coat and waved her hand at them.

“Later, Haz. Later, bro,” Harry smirked at him as he placed a hand on her back and guided her out the door.

The two of them walked down the driveway and a little further down the dirt road. They stopped at a seemingly random bush where Harry crouched down. He pushed aside the branches to reveal a backpack.

“Here,” he handed it to her.

She unzipped it and pulled out two white gowns and two black wigs.

“This is going to be hilarious!”

Harry turned his torch on. They shed their jackets and pulled the dresses over their heads. It was quite cold, so they had opted to keep their jeans and shirts on underneath. Next, she took her wig and roughly combed the long straight strands with her fingers. She placed it on her head, the fake hair hanging in front of her face instead of at the back. Parting the wig so she could see, she helped Harry tug his on the same way she had. They were identical, in loose fitting, floor-length, white gowns and black hair hiding their faces. The only difference was that Harry stood a couple of inches taller than her.

“You look hot,” he teased.

“Not too bad yourself, lucky charm,” she reciprocated, the corners of her mouth quirking up.

“Do you think we’ll scare him?” she asked.

“Definitely, Tom is going to shit his pants.”

She giggled, envisioning his face.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Harry yanked on his jacket.

“Here, take mine too,” she handed him hers, “I don’t want you to catch hypothermia or anything. I’m going to be inside the car, so I won’t be as cold.”

“Thanks,” he smiled gratefully, taking on a bulky figure as he put her coat on as well. It was a tight fit, but he was warmer now.

“Are you sure you’re okay to walk through the woods by yourself? I can come with you, if you’d like,” she offered, worrying about the younger boy wandering through the woods alone in the dark.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured, squeezing her shoulder.

“We can take a romantic stroll through the woods another night,” he flashed a cheeky grin.

“Oh, shut up,” she lightly shoved him in the chest.

Laughing, he picked up the backpack and started in the direction of the woods.

She watched him walk him into the foliage, shrouded in darkness and shadows. It wasn’t a clear night; the moon was full, yet hidden behind clouds. She continued to track the beam of his flashlight until it was no longer visible. She shivered, the chilly air seeping into her skin. She folded her arms to ward off the cold and aimed her torch in front of her. She slowly trudged along the lonely road, back towards the house they were staying at. She made sure nobody was around before quietly creeping up the driveway to the parked vehicle. Checking her surroundings once more, specifically the house, she turned off her torch and opened the back door, climbing inside. Earlier, Harrison had left the car unlocked.

She slowly shut the door, careful not to make any noise. Glad that she had been successful thus far, she crawled over the back seat and into the trunk. She took out her phone and messaged Harry.

Her: I’m in the car, where are you?

A minute later her phone lit up.

Harry: Almost there.

Her: Text me when you get there and I’ll let Haz know we’re ready.

She tried to find a comfortable position while she waited for his response. It was a confined space and she struggled to stretch her legs out. Finally giving in, she lay down on her side, tucking her knees into her chest. Soon after, she received a notification.

Harry: I’m here.

Her: I’ll tell Haz. Are you ok?

Harry: Yeah, I’m good. Bloody freezing though :/

Her: Just a little bit longer. It’s going to be so worth it when we scare Tom lol

Smiling at the thought, she messaged Harrison.

Her: Harry and I are ready.

Harrison: Ok, we’re leaving soon.

Harrison: Make sure you’re hidden.

Ten minutes later, when she was beginning to squirm to prevent pins and needles, she heard the front door close. Stilling immediately, she strained her ears. Haz and Tom were chatting as they walked towards the car. The muffled voices came closer and she curled up tight, holding her breath. The car doors opened and bags were thrown in. They both got in the car and Harrison started the engine. She sighed with relief. Undetected.

Her: We’re leaving the house now, get ready.

Harry: Ok.

She locked her phone and slipped it into her back pocket. She settled in, Harry was up first.

She couldn’t see them, but the boys were quiet. She knew Harrison was probably mentally preparing for his role. The whole prank depended on his ability to sell the fear of the ‘monster in the woods’; having said that, Tom scared easily. A giggle almost escaped her lips as she thought about it. She clamped a hand over her mouth and prayed she hadn’t been caught. Neither of the boys said a word. She was fine.

They had been driving for a short distance now, and she guessed they were very close to Harry’s hiding spot.

Right on time, Harrison spoke up.

“I need to pee.”

“Just wait until we get to the gym.”

“No, I can’t wait that long.”

“Fine, hurry up.”

She smiled. This was it.

Harrison pulled the car over and turned off the engine. He exited the car and she heard Tom exhale. She didn’t dare peek a look, not willing to risk being caught. Instead, she tried to steady her breathing, the anticipation causing adrenalin to course through her blood. Very quietly, inch by inch, she repositioned herself. She checked the lock of the seat was undone so that she could quickly push it forward and pounce on Tom.

A moment passed before she heard the car door open. Haz jumped in, and she felt the whoosh of air as he pulled the door closed. She heard his pants and fearful stuttering.

“Wha – what the fuck? Shit, what the fuck was that?” he cried.

Tom seemed more confused than frightened.

“Are you okay, dude? What’s wrong?”

“Fuck! Tom, there was something in the woods, I’m telling you.”

She was impressed; she could really hear the distress in his voice. He was doing brilliantly.

“What are you talking about? What was out there?” Tom was beginning to panic now.

She pressed her palm against her mouth to keep from laughing. She knew what was coming next.

Still swearing, Harrison turned the engine over and the headlights came on.

She could only imagine Harry standing in front of the car, lit up by the beam of the lights. He was only standing there, but it was enough.

Harrison’s performance reached new heights as he began shouting at the top of his lungs. She heard them shifting in their seats, jostling the entire vehicle.

“Shit! What the fuck is it? Oh my god, Tom! What the fuck? Shit! Fuck! Fuck!”

Tom had broken by now.

“What the fuck? What the fuck? What is that? Shit! Harrison, what the fuck?”

As they had rehearsed, Harry would now ‘disappear’ below the car, allowing her to make her big entrance. Although she couldn’t see him, she knew he had done his part because a shrill, high-pitched shriek filled the small space. It was Tom. She had to draw upon every ounce of will power not to burst out laughing right then and there. Taking a deep breath, she got into character. She made sure her wig was on properly, covering her face.

“What the fuck? Where did it go?” Harrison yelled.

“Where the fuck is it? Where is it?” Tom screeched. That was her cue.

Shoving the seat down, she crawled forward, letting out an elongated, throaty groan. She was going to have a hoarse throat for the next two days but she didn’t care.

Hearing her, Tom realised she was behind him. His face contorted into pure terror as he tried to simultaneously turn around and also move away from her. When she reached him, she wrapped her fingers around his neck. She moved her face right up to his ear, still making the strange noise, the tresses of her wig brushing against the side of his face. He struggled in her grasp and his hands came over hers, trying to free himself. He was wrestling within the confines of the seatbelt, his body cowering away from her. He was hyperventilating and his legs were kicking about. His eyes were bugged out and his mouth was open in a strangled scream.

Harrison was next to him, curse words falling from his mouth as he tried – poorly – to help push her away. Due to the awkward angle in which she had come at him, her grip on him wasn’t too firm. He managed to free himself, swinging his arm wildly at her face in an attempt to warn her off. He was flattened against the door, moving as far away from her as possible, breath erratic and sweating. He was leaning all the way towards the dashboard, knee up as protection. Her throat was feeling very dry now and she was relatively blind in the wig. She kept going though, patting her hands over his body to find his neck again, and sounding the horrific groan.

Then, amid their screams, Harrison began to laugh.

“Gotcha!”

With his break in character, she stopped too, sitting back and pulling off the wig. She began to laugh as well. Tom had his hand over his heart, his chest rising and falling dramatically as he tried to catch his breath. Understanding slowly dawned on him and she doubled over laughing, clutching her belly. Harrison slapped Tom on the back, eyes crinkled and an ear-splitting grin upon his face. Looking at her, they convulsed into giggles again. They high-fived, proud of themselves. She wiped away the tears streaming down her face. Tom’s breathing was still uneven and his face conveyed unease. He hadn’t moved from his position against the door and looked between the two of them defensively.

Suddenly, she remembered that Harry was still outside. She looked through the windshield but didn’t see him.

“Harry?” she yelled.

“Harry’s here too?” Tom asked incredulously. He had somewhat recovered and the indignation of being pranked was beginning to set in.

“We’ve been planning this for weeks, mate. We got you so good,” Harrison snickered.

“For fucks sake, you assholes,” Tom uttered, mad at himself for having being so oblivious.

“Where’s Harry?” Haz asked.

“Harry?” she yelled again, looking out all the windows. Still unable to find him, she opened the door and stepped out. The cold hit her like a ton of bricks as she ventured towards the trees, but there was no sign of him.

“Harry?” she called hesitantly. She peered into the darkness. Still nothing. She looked back at the boys in the car but they shrugged, not seeing him either.

With her back to the shrubbery, she didn’t notice Harry jumping out. He yelled, ‘Boo!” and grabbed her from behind. She let out a shriek, hands frantically trying to release herself from his clutches. As her mind rationalised the lack of threat, she began to breathe again. He hugged her to his chest, his deep laugh filling her ears.

“God damn it, Harry!” she chided. The warmth from his body comforted her, the tension leaving her limbs.

“You, div!” she scolded again, removing herself from his hold and glaring at him. He couldn’t even maintain eye contact, he was laughing so hard. Unable to help herself, she broke into a fit of giggles too. He had gotten her fair and square.

They collected the backpack and jackets and walked back to the car. They clambered in once the seat was pushed back up. The drive home was full of the pranksters reminiscing Tom’s reaction as he silently seethed. He was first out of the car, slamming the door on his way out. She quickly got out and caught up to him.

“Oh, come on, Tom,” she tried.

He ignored her, walking into the house and heading for his room. She followed him in and found him sitting on his bed, looking at his phone.

“Leave me alone.”

“Tommm,” she dragged his name out, kneeling beside him.

“It was just a joke, Tom. We were only having some fun,” she reasoned.

“Whatever.”

She poked his cheek.

“Come on, Tom, you know it was funny.”

She poked him again. And again. Poke. Poke.

He caught her finger in his fist.

“Stop.”

“Fine.”

“Hey, what if we get Harry and Haz back? Just you and me?” she suggested.

At this, he finally looked at her.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?” she asked hopefully. She didn’t like it when Tom was mad at her.

“Yeah,” he smiled.

“Yay!” she cheered softly, so as not to be heard by the other two boys.

“Can you get out of that gown though? It’s creepy,” Tom shuddered.

“Harry thought I was hot,” she sneered, hopping off the bed.

“Harry’s an idiot.”

“Mmhm,” she murmured as she removed the gown. Dropping it to the floor in a heap, she sat beside Tom once more.

“Okay, so what kind of prank were you thinking?”

Tagging: @tommysdarlin @everythinguncharted @lionfart @settlebackeasy @johnmurphys-sass @bisexualmomfriend @girlwith100names @jjgirl4797 @spideytomsbutt @spideyontherun @unfoxs @fandomscombine @oswald-1998 @spxderman-s @timemngmtoptimisationproblems

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craft-rose · 7 years ago

Text

up and down

Title: up and down

Pairing: Reader/Hoseok

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Sexy things.

A/N: I wrote this in one sitting and it probably shows lmao.

You climb out of your tent to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. The quiet zip of your tent flaps fills the silence in the clearing as you step into your hiking boots. It’s only as you glance up, shrugging your coat on to shield yourself from the frigid winds, that you spot Hoseok by the campfire, by himself.

Startled by sight of him, you quickly back pedal, crunching a twig under the weight of your boot.

The sound of it cuts through the silence like a knife through butter, catching the dancer’s attention as he lifts his head up to look at you.

Your lips twitch apart as if you mean to greet him, but no words come out.

Truthfully, you’ve always felt a little awkward around Hoseok. You have many of the same friends as him, and you see each other at random social gatherings all the time, but you’ve never really interacted with each other beyond that. It’s always a polite nod, followed by an excuse to go over there.

In that moment, however, there is no over there to run off to.

“Going somewhere?” Hoseok asks, calmly nodding to the flashlight in your hand.

You glance down at it, forgetting for a moment that you have to pee. “Uh …” Usually, you have no shame talking about your bodily functions. In fact you had an in-depth discussion about your menstrual cycle with Seokjin just a few hours ago at dinner. He was curious to know how tampons worked and how often you had to change them.

Suffice to say you’re nowhere near as comfortable around Hoseok.

The second you think to make up an excuse as to where you’re going, the toilet paper that you shoved into your coat pocket earlier, falls out, and unravels at your feet.

Cheeks burning with heat, you drop to your knees to collect the mess of paper, bundling it up into a fat wad as Hoseok casually comes over to help.

Your insides jumble up in response.

Get it together, ________. He’s just a normal guy.

“Is that the same flashlight that Jimin was using last night?” he asks, kneeling down beside you.

You nod, tentatively. “Uh … I think so. Why?”

“He left it on all day,” the idol explains. “The batteries are probably drained by now.”

Curiously, you shift your attention to the flashlight, flicking the switch, but to no avail.

“Shit,” You mutter to yourself, smacking the side of it a couple of times before you finally give up, coming to your feet.

Hoseok straightens with ease, brushing the dirt from his knees. “Do you know the way to the rock?” he asks, referring to the large rock in the middle of the woods where you’ve all been going to the bathroom for the past two nights and three days.

Bouncing a look at the trees beyond the clearing, you feel your stomach tense up. “I think so …” You say, quite unconvincingly.

“It’s pretty dark out there,” he asserts, rubbing the side of his neck. “I can walk with you if you want.”

Your stomach lurches at the idea of that. “Oh. No, no. That’s okay. I-I can manage on my own.”

“Are you sure?”

Quickly nodding, you stumble off into the woods without another word as if to prove some sort of point. To him and to yourself. You’ve always loved camping, and the outdoors, and you certainly don’t need a guy to walk you anywhere.

Especially not Jung Hoseok.

Regardless, you glance back a second later to see if he’s there, dutifully walking you to the rock against your wishes the way Yoongi or Seokjin would have in this situation, but he’s not.

He stays back at camp as you carry on, breaking various twigs and tripping over various rocks and protruding tree roots as you hike deeper into the dark, winding forest.

For whatever reason you’re annoyed he’s not chasing after you, and you’ve no idea why.

Shoving it all aside, you make your way to the rock, squatting a few feet away from the hole that you dug earlier with a wad of toilet paper in your grasp. You normally use leaves to do the job but Seokjin went ahead and bought a pack of biodegradable toilet paper before the trip and insisted that you take a roll.

Within seconds the pressure in your bladder dies down, and you let out a breathless sigh, unquestionably relieved that Hoseok isn’t there to witness this.

Once you’re done, you clean up, securing your pyjama bottoms before turning around to retrace your steps back to camp. You’ve done this at least five or six times in the past few days. More than enough to have memorized the way. Granted you normally have another person to walk with you, or the sun to light your path … but you made it there just fine, so you should have no trouble finding your way back.

You hug your coat as a brisk, positively glacial gust of wind howls through the trees. It’s so cold, in fact, you lose your sense of direction, bouncing a look over your shoulder as you try to remember the way.

“Shit …” You mutter for the second time that night, turning on the spot, trying to identify the markers that you had noted earlier.

There’s meant to be a lopsided tree stump somewhere close, after which you’re meant to turn left and continue in that direction until you arrive back at camp. But as you look back, and to both sides, you find no such tree stump. Only the tallest, dizzying trees and a thick, ugly root that you swear came out of nowhere.

You trip over it as you stumble backwards, quickly losing your footing and falling down to the ground with a swift, heart-stopping snap.

For a split second you’re worried you’ve broken a bone, but the only thing that’s broken is the twig under your ass. Even so, you slowly come to your feet, aching in places you didn’t know existed.

If it weren’t so cold, you’d have stayed and waited until sunrise, but you had no immediate desire to freeze to death in the wilderness. Scrunching your face in pain, you place a hand on your side, where it hurts the most, and forge onward.

Somehow you find your way back to the same thick, ugly root, and the same twig that you snapped in half with the lower left side of your ass.

Wheeling a look around, everything begins to blend together into one dark, blurry haze.

You shift your gaze in all directions, slowly and then quickly as the panic begins to set in.

I’m lost, You realize. I’m actually fucking lost.

Forgetting the camp, you turn back in the direction of the rock to give this another go, but your efforts bring you nowhere. Somehow you reach an incline, meaning you’ve traveled far too deep in what is absolutely and unquestionably, the wrong direction.

You squint hard, trying to find the familiar glow of the campsite, but it’s too dark. So dark you can barely see your hands and feet in front of you.

“Hello?” You call out, weakly. “Guys? Is … is anyone there?”

There’s no response.

Not a sound apart the rustling of branches nearby. Maybe five or ten feet away at the most.

“H-hello? Seokjin? Y-Yoongi? Is — is that you?”

Again, there’s no response. Just more rustling.

The fear and unease of what could potentially happen, slowly but steadily crawls the length of your spine. It grows louder with each second, consuming you as you stand there frozen.

Whatever’s there, it’s not who — or what — you think it is.

Run.

Louder.

I need to run.

And louder.

I need to fucking run!

So loud you can already feel the beast sink its teeth into your throat and rip it out with one sharp tug.

RUN! RUN! RUN!

You whip around, dashing off as fast as you can, and with no sense of where you’re going, only the deepest, most powerful surge of adrenaline you’ve ever felt.

“_________?” Someone suddenly asks, maybe half a second before you run straight into them.

Smacking your skull directly against theirs, you fall to the ground with a loud, resounding clunk, the ground shaking beside you as the other person falls down immediately after you do.

Suddenly everything goes blurry, and you forget there’s a beast chasing after you.

“Holy … fucking … shit …” You groan, grasping your skull. “Fuck me … in the … fucking … ass.”

Your head is aching so badly, you barely take notice of the other person.

“Are you blind or something?” they ask you accusingly, the sound of their voice coming to you swiftly like a kick in the gut.

You blink your eyes open, startled as they adjust to the familiar outline of the guy before you. “H-Hoseok?”

“Yes, it’s me,” the idol grumbles, massaging the part of his head that you had accidentally smacked against yours. “I-I went out looking for you when you didn’t come back.”

Eyebrows twitching up, you utter the first words that come to mind. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I?” he counters, rather defensively at that.

“Well, for one …” You grunt, slowly coming upright. “We’re barely friends.”

He looks at you as if you’ve gone mad. “What, you think I would let you wander the woods alone just because I don’t know you that well?”

“Uh …” Hearing it back like that, you quickly realize how ridiculous you sound. “I-I don’t know, okay? Let’s just go back. Before we run into a bear or something.”

Slowly coming to his feet, he mutters something that sounds an awful lot like, “You could always head-butt it if we do,” under his breath.

You scrunch your lips into a frown, ignoring the hand he extends to you as you get up.

In the moments that follow, he takes the lead, creating a path through the trees and all the jutting branches as you trail behind. To your knowledge, he’s one of those people who’s afraid of everything, especially things you’d find in the outdoors. You’re surprised he even agreed to go camping, let alone that he was able to find you in the dark, and that he didn’t simply wake up one of the other guys and make them do it.

“Okay …” he says, coming to halt roughly two minutes later, a twitch of uncertainty along his bottom lip as he glances back. “I-I think this is the way.”

Your face screws. “I’m sorry, did you just say you think this is the way?”

“Well, I can’t say precisely. You veered so far from the actual path, I-I don’t know where we are anymore.”

Clapping both hands over your face, you groan loudly. “We’re fucked. We’re so fucked.”

“In the ass, apparently.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“You shut up,” he fires back, facing you. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just come back like you were supposed to.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” You snort.

He makes a face at you. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Maybe if you had walked me to the rock like a proper gentleman, I wouldn’t have tripped over that root and lost my bearings, and we’d both be safely back at camp by now!”

“I offered and you said no!”

“Oh, barely …” You say in a mocking tone, wiggling your arms around as you mimic the way he had offered earlier. “I cAn waLk wiTh yOu iF yoU wAnt.”

Hoseok narrows his eyes at you, glaring deeply. “That’s not how I said it.”

“Whatever. Did you at least bring a flashlight?”

“Do you think we’d be standing here in the dark if I had one?”

You exhale loudly, plopping down to the ground after with your arms folded. “Fuck this. I’m not moving until the sun comes up.”

“You’ll freeze to death.”

“I’d rather freeze than go stumbling around in the wrong direction.”

“Fine!” he shouts, turning his back to you as if to walk off.

Your mouth falls open. “Are you seriously leaving me here al — ?!”

He takes his backpack off, hanging it up on a tree nearby, and then unzipping it to extract what looks like a blanket from within the largest compartment.

You lift an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“What?”

“You brought a blanket but not a flashlight?”

Frowning, he settles down about a foot away, opening and extending part of the blanket to you as if to share.

There’s a soft tug in your chest, but you ignore it, hugging your coat tighter. “I’m fine like this.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugs, gladly taking the blanket up all to himself.

You force your eyes closed, leaning back against the base of a tree and turning your head to the side so you don’t have to look at him. There’s no way you’re going to fall asleep in the cold like this, but you try to anyway. You pull out all the usual tricks — sheep, math, Taylor Swift’s entire discography — but none of it works.

In fact the longer you sit there, bundled up in nothing but your pyjamas and your coat, the harder it is to breathe, and to stop your teeth from chattering.

Before you know it, you feel a pair of warm, toned arms wrap around you, sealing whatever body heat you have left in a blanket.

You struggle to open your eyes, only then realizing how numb you feel all over, and that every inch of the ground, including the part where you’re sitting, is covered in frost.

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Hoseok tells you, rubbing your arms up and down under the blanket.

If you had the energy, you’d have rolled your eyes just then. Instead you settle for the only words you can manage. “Th-that’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible?”

“Wh-whatever it is you’re implying.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, he simply continues rubbing your arms until the feeling in them slowly returns.

You close your eyes again, breathing in and then out, and then gradually coming to notice how close in proximity the two of you are. For one, you’re under the same blanket, and his arms are wrapped loosely, but warmly, almost protectively, around your body. And on top of that, you’re not sure you hate it.

Perhaps it’s the cold playing tricks on you.

Perhaps it’s the residual fear of nearly having your throat torn out by a beast.

Perhaps it’s the fact that you’d once had a slight a crush on a certain someone for reasons that are still unknown to you.

Or perhaps it’s all three bundled up into one Hoseok-shaped package.

Whatever it is, you swallow it down, every inch of your body suddenly prickling with heat as Hoseok stops rubbing. Slowly you feel a different sort of adrenaline settle in. His hands are warm and motionless, cupping the backs of yours in a way that’s almost affectionate …but you’re not totally sure that’s aware of it.

For a split second you convince yourself that he’s fallen asleep.

As you glance back to check, however, you find that his eyes are wide open, alert as if he’s concentrating hard on something, but you have no idea what.

It’s only as you silence your thoughts that you hear it.

The growling in the distance.

“D-do you hear that?” Hoseok asks you in a whisper, his voice breaking slightly.

You swallow hard, trying not to make any sudden movements. “Be quiet. Don’t move.”

“Wh-what if it charges at — ?”

Without warning, you clap a hand over his mouth, both of you shaking under the blanket as the sounds grow louder. Growling followed closely by the rustling of branches, and the twist, snap and crunch of a slow, but steady approach.

Whatever it is, it sounds big and heavy.

Hoseok’s breathing intensifies.

On instinct, you drop your hand from his mouth to his forearm, slowly sliding it down and lacing your fingers between his. You’re afraid, yes, but the way he’s shaking, he’s terrified. And you’re not in any rush to letting him get devoured by whatever beast is lurking in the distance.

Closing your eyes at the same time he does, the two of you stay like that for what feels like an eternity, but is probably closer to a couple of minutes.

Whatever it is, it goes away.

A sense of quiet sweeps over the area, and the only sound that you hear now is the wind.

You release the breath that you were holding in, along with the death grip that you have on Hoseok’s hand. Perhaps you were a little more afraid than you had thought.

Shifting away a few inches, you tilt your head back, sighing in relief. “That was close.”

“I’m never going camping again.”

You can’t help but laugh. “It’s not always so bad.”

“I take it you do this a lot?”

“Sometimes,” You shrug. “Let’s just say I prefer daylight hours.”

This time he laughs, sharply glancing back as he hears more rustling in the distance, even though it’s clearly just wind. “Are we really going to stay here like this until sunrise?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“I guess not …”

You chew your bottom lip, trying to think of some way to distract him. If he’s going to stay on edge like this, it’s just going to be a long night for both of you.

“I have a question,” You begin.

“What is it?”

“Why didn’t you just wake up one of the other guys when you realized I was lost?”

There’s a slight twitch in his face as he thinks. “I-I don’t know. I guess I felt responsible.”

“Responsible?” You repeat, quietly taken aback. “I wasn’t serious when I said it was your fault for letting me wander off alone. You know that, right?”

He glances down a moment. “Yeah, but if I’d just gone with you, none of this would have happened.”

“That’s not true. Look at us now,” You say. “We’re both here, and we’re still lost.”

“I guess …”

“Also, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea or anything, but … it was really nice of you to come looking for me,” You further, in no particular way. “I wasn’t expecting that at all.”

“What were you expecting?” he asks.

You’re not entirely sure. “I don’t know. I’m just glad that we didn’t get eaten by whatever that was earlier.”

He snorts. “Don’t speak too soon. We still have a long night ahead of us.”

For whatever reason you feel a smile tug at your lips, one that you’d probably let happen if you weren’t so cold. Teeth chattering, you bring your knees to your chest, the innermost part of which gently quickens as Hoseok comes a little bit closer.

The warmth of the blanket spreads through every inch of your body, and you slowly begin to lean into it, the feeling of him.

Whatever it is that’s prompting this, you don’t care for the details.

On that same wavelength he tilts his head down, giving you enough time to make a choice, and you do. Chest hitching inside your shirt, you ignore the voice in the back of your head that’s telling you to think about this before you proceed.

You have thought about it.

In fact you’ve thought about more times than you can count.

And going by the way Hoseok looks at you in those last few seconds, he’s thought about it, too.

You close your eyes, turning your body towards him as he leans in, and kisses you.

The air is frigid, and the earth beneath you is hard and icy, but your cheeks are ablaze, and you quickly come to realize how badly you’ve wanted this. Within seconds of contact, you weave your fingers through his hair and he wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you closer, and kissing you deeper.

Honestly, it’s the best kiss you’ve had in a long time.

It might even be the best you’ve had, ever.

Without a doubt, it’s the hottest, and most random.

Sinking to the ground together, and yanking at various parts of each other’s clothing as if to tear them clean off, you almost miss when one of your friends calls out to you.

“Hoseok-ah! _________-ah!” Yoongi shouts, from not that far away.

Your movements screech to an abrupt, and frustratingly reluctant halt, and you suddenly glance to each other in a panic as you realize you’re about three seconds away from getting caught.

The two of you quickly separate, hurriedly scrambling to your feet and righting your coats as a beam of light shines down you from about ten or fifteen feet away.

Yoongi and Taehyung soon follow, a flashlight in the older boy’s grasp.

“Why are you two all the way out here?” he asks. “We’ve been looking everywhere. Jimin woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t find you guys.”

Both you and Hoseok bounce a look at each other, stringing together whatever you could in that moment without saying too much.

“I went out to use the bathroom,” You explain. “And I took too long, so Hoseok went out to look for me, and …”

“And then we lost track of how to get back,” he adds. “Also, we were nearly eaten alive by some sort of bear.”

Yoongi and Taehyung exchange a look, briefly, a hint of a smirk on both their faces before they glance back at the both of you.

Clearly they don’t believe that’s all that happened but they neglect to question you further. Instead the four of you walk back to camp, arriving in about five minutes — much to your embarrassment — and then waiting for the other guys to come back before breaking off to your separate tents.

You climb inside yours, zipping it up and curling up inside your sleeping bag, as you think for a long time about what happened out there and how badly you wish it would have lasted longer.

Part of you wonders if he’s thinking about it, too.

I guess I’ll find out tomorrow, you decide, allowing your eyes to fall shut as the exhaustion washes over you.

#hoseok #jung hoseok #bts #j-hope #hoseok fanfic #j-hope fanfic #bts fanfic #j-hope scenarios #hoseok scenarios #bts scenarios

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allwaswell16 · 8 years ago

Photo

Happy Birthday, B! 🎉🎉🎉

Happy birthday to my sweet, wonderful friend @nottooldforthisship ! I’ve written you a time stamp from Just Hear This and Then I’ll Go, and there’s a reason why I chose to write this particular thing for you.

Before I was done writing the original fic, you asked for lyrics to make lyrics edits, and I had just finished writing a scene about Harry singing karaoke. So I sent you the lyrics to the song he sang even though we had never talked before. You made me a lovely edit, and then graciously said that when I was done writing the fic, I could use it to make a tumblr post. You were one of the very first people I ever told I was writing a fic. I wasn’t even convinced yet that I would ever publish it. But you and your edit were a lot of the motivation I needed to finish it and have the courage to finally post it. (I remember during that time you posted about what a fan you are of Pride and Prejudice and that just made it all even more nerve wracking. Lmao.) So I hope you will enjoy rereading that scene of Harry singing ‘Dangerous Woman,’ but this time it’s in Harry’s point of view. All the love! xx -A

Don’t Need Permission

by @allwaswell16, mature, 2k

Indie artist Harry Styles has become captivated by former pop star Louis Tomlinson after their paths begin crossing because Louis hopes to sign Harry’s friend to his record label. They haven’t always seen eye to eye, but Harry is confident that his feelings for Louis must be mutual. (He’s wrong.)

Or a time stamp from ‘Just Hear This and Then I’ll Go’. The 'Dangerous Woman’ karaoke scene, but this time from Harry’s point of view.

Read here on AO3 or under the cut

The Alibi is crowded tonight. Bodies press together in waves of people as anyone tries to pass another on the way to the bar or the loo or to sing karaoke. Harry stands with his friends, ignoring anyone else who tries to engage his attention. He tries to subtly scan the crowd for Louis. Louis’ friends are already here, and he feels annoyed at both Louis and himself for having to await his arrival. He hasn’t spoken to Louis since his confession about his sexuality, and unease sits heavily in the pit of his stomach. He has no misgivings about Louis knowing something like this about him. He may not know Louis as well as he would like to, but it’s clear the man is a loyal sort. No, his unease has to do with someone else entirely. That thought brings with it a different face flashing through his mind. One much less pleasant to think of--Ben. Harry’s vision clouds with red as he thinks about that viper sitting next to Louis, chatting him up at Jamie’s restaurant just a few nights ago. He knows Ben much better than he’d like to, and he’s quite pleased that Ben seems to have bowed out of coming tonight. He’s also quite pleased that it probably has to do with avoiding him, which makes it even that much sweeter.

His vision clears, and even though it would seem nearly impossible to find anyone amidst the throng, his eyes immediately narrow in on the beautiful man walking alongside Liam. He takes in the full picture as he watches Louis walk towards him. His eyes travel up the length of Louis’ powerful legs encased in skin tight black denim, a black graphic t-shirt begging to be rucked up and over his head, his hair done up and off his face, showcasing the sharp edges of his beauty. Harry doesn’t realize how intense his staring is until Louis meets his gaze before looking away quickly. Harry smirks.

Louis edges along the outside of their group as far from Harry as possible. Harry frowns but presumes Louis’ purpose is simply to spend more time with James whilst he’s here in London. However, he begins to find it more and more irksome that as he tries to sidle closer to Louis, Louis seems to remain just out of his grasp. He doesn’t bother to hide his interest. Louis glances over at him fairly often, and Harry always returns the look. What exactly is Louis playing at here? Hard to get? Does he want Harry to chase him? Because Harry is definitely up for that.

They may be in a VIP section of the club, but their server is having trouble getting across to them as often as they’d like. He wonders if he should make his way to the bar for another scotch, when Louis begins moving in the direction of the bar. By the time he can make his way over, he sees Louis squeezed in up against Niall. He finally makes it fairly close to Louis, when Niall slings an arm around Louis’ shoulder and points his drink in the direction of their table.

“Louis! Have ya seen our lovebirds then?”

For the first time tonight, something else steals Harry’s attention. He whips his head towards the direction indicated by Niall’s drink and sees what’s been in front of him all night, Zayn and Liam. They’re pressed together, talking to each other and ignoring everyone else. Harry has seen that look in Liam’s eyes before, a starry eyed one. It worries him a bit. He tries to set that thought aside for the moment.

“We’re gonna sign that kid, Louis. Mark. My. Words.” At the sound of Niall’s voice, Harry looks back at the bar and watches as Niall punctuates his words with taps of his pint glass to Louis’ forehead.

Louis glances at him and then back at Niall. “Mind if you keep your voice down, and oh, I don’t know, maybe stop putting your drink on my face.”

“Why do I gotta keep my voice down, Lou? It’s fucking obvious as fuck that Liam is mad for him. So ya think Zayn’ll ask you to be best man or what? Ha! That’ll be hilarious what with Harry probably being Liam’s!” Niall laughs loudly as he sets his drink on the bar carelessly spilling it down the side.

Harry suddenly finds that he’s finally made his way close enough to Louis as to be undeniably noticed by him and finally able to say something, anything. “Hello.”

“Hello? I’ve been here for like two hours. If you were wanting to say hello you’re a few hours late,” Louis retorts.

“Yes, I know. You’ve been busy talking to people though. I saw you at Jamie Oliver’s opening. Did you enjoy your meal?” Harry replies, stiffly.

“Yes, I did,” Louis answers. “Actually, I believe you know someone I met that night.”

Harry can feel his face turn to stone.

Louis swallows a shot of whatever liquor that was placed in front of him and continues on. “He’s not here tonight though. Too bad. We seemed to have a lot in common.”

Harry has had just enough alcohol as to not quite know what to think about this. He opens his mouth to speak when the music suddenly kicks in for the next karaoke singer. He watches Louis’ personal assistant walk up to the mic and begin drunkenly singing Shania Twain’s “You’re Still the One.” It makes him smile. He’s always liked this song.

His attention returns to Louis when he hears him call out to Niall. “Be back in a minute. Going to take a piss.”

Louis doesn’t turn back to see that he’s following him, but fuck it. He’s finally seeing his chance to at least speak with Louis for a few minutes without an audience. He stands outside the door to the loo for a minute before walking in. He finds Louis, alone, washing his hands. Harry walks over to him and stands next to the sink, staring at their joint reflection in the mirror. He stares ruminating on how Louis’ beauty so perfectly matches his own until he sees Louis look back at him through the glass. Louis looks a bit petulant but says nothing, so Harry finally says, “I like this song.”

“What?” Louis snaps.

“’You’re Still the One.’ It’s a Shania Twain song.”

Louis stops drying his hands and looks at Harry in astonishment.

Harry grins back at him a bit proud that he’s surprised him. “What? I’ve always liked it.” He shrugs.

“I know it’s a fucking Shania Twain song. I just can’t believe you like that song. Oh sure, you like Shania Twain, but hate my songs. My songs are fucking great, you wanker. Three to four minutes of heaven, I’d say. Better than Shania fucking Twain that’s for fucking sure.”

What ? Harry’s brows furrow. That’s not at all his opinion of Louis’ songs. “They are, Lou. Really. Your songs. They really are great. They’re catchy and wonderful and beautiful, and I can’t get them out of my head.” He can’t get Louis out of his head period.

Louis pokes him in the chest with his finger. “You don’t get to say that now! I know what you really think you pretentious arsehole.”

Harry ignores Louis’ words and smiles at his touch as he captures Louis’ hand in his own. “You’re drunk.”

Louis shakes him off. “So are you!” Louis fires back. “Drunk, I mean. You’re drunk, too!”

“Maybe,” Harry laughs. God, this is confusing. He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol running through him or not, but all he can think about is how fit Louis looks with his eyes shooting blue flames. “Fuck. I must be.”

Louis’ eyes narrow. “Are you laughing at me?”

Harry’s voice deepens. “What if I am? What are you going to do about it?”

“Listen you twat. I’m not going to hit you. For one thing you’re a lot bigger than me. For another thing I’m not a fighter. I’m a lover not a fighter. Well, except for maybe on Twitter.”

“Prove it.” Harry walks over and locks the door.

Louis looks at the door incredulously. “What in the actual fuck. Why would there be a lock on this door? That is so bizarre. This is a bathroom for multiple people. There are stalls in here. They’re practically encouraging people to have sex in their bathrooms and inconvenience everyone else. This is outrageous.”

Harry shrugs as he watches Louis walk over to the door and lock and unlock the door multiple times as though to be sure it’s actually a lock. Harry honestly couldn’t tell anyone his thought processes at the moment, but he moves his body until he’s crowding Louis into the door. He reaches over Louis’s shoulder and clicks the lock back into place. He’s close enough to smell Louis now, and nothing could stop him from nosing along Louis’ neck to chase more of it. Lavender washing powder and tobacco and something indescribable. He’s so close he can feel Louis’ muscles tense. His lips nearly press up against Louis’ ear as he growls into it. “I think I asked you to prove you aren’t a fighter, Louis.”

“Erm, what?” Louis chokes out. “I…I…don’t…” Louis turns around to face him. He looks as confused as Harry felt a few moments prior, but now Harry’s body is burning with want and his confusion has gone up in smoke. He licks his lips as he wonders what Louis tastes like. He decides to find out. Louis’ eyes open wide is the last thing he sees before he presses his lips to Louis’.

If he’d thought his body was aflame before this moment, he thought wrong. Flames rip through his veins as he groans into Louis’ mouth and presses him up against the door. All reason, all thought in cinders as he pushes their hips together and slides his hands over Louis’ spectacular bum. God, how he’s longed to get his hands on him like this. How many times has he awaken from his dreams burning for Louis? He uses the leverage his hands give him to forcefully push Louis even further against him as his fingers press in just as he has been fantasizing of doing. His tongue finds entrance into Louis’ mouth as one small thought makes it through the haze. Louis is kissing him back.

It’s the last thought he has before Louis’s fingers reach through his hair and tug at the curls he finds there, and fuck if that isn’t the one thing guaranteed to go straight to Harry’s cock. He groans as he feels his dick harden against Louis’ body and just as Harry starts to move against him, the door behind Louis’ back falls open as they both stumble out into the corridor.

“What the fuck?” Harry croaks as his body cries out at the loss of what he has been coveting for weeks.

Louis is standing a few paces away laughing in triumph, his eyes sparkling with mischief. So damn captivating. Harry is left with a bemused smile as Louis hops up one time clapping his hands together, still laughing, before he turns and pushes into the crowd.

Harry wills his dick to calm down now that it’s clear it will be seeing no action, but it doesn’t want to seem to take no for an answer. He stands at the edge of the crowd and looks towards their table of friends. He sees Louis’ head turned his way although he can’t discern the look on his face from here. He tries to adjust himself a bit and then makes his way towards the karaoke set up. The DJ takes his headphones off to hear him.

“What song you looking for, mate?”

“Do you have ‘Dangerous Woman?’”

The DJ lifts an eyebrow and grins. “As a matter of fact, I do. Very ambitious.”

Harry lifts an eyebrow in return. “Sing it in my shower all the time.”

He waits for the last person to come off the small stage and glances out at the crowds. Quite a few are eying him curiously, probably wondering if he’s going to sing. As he walks up to the stage, the place erupts into drunken cheers.

He can feel his stage persona begin to take over as he smiles wickedly at the crowd. He seems to have every person’s attention just as he intends. He’s still hard in his jeans, and he wonders if anyone can tell. Louis will know, and really that's all that matters. He clutches the mic and knows his biceps bulge out of the tight black t-shirt he’s wearing. The opening guitar riff of Ariana Grande’s ‘Dangerous Woman’ begins. Harry licks his lips and sings the first line.

Don’t need permission

Made my decision

To test my limits

He loses sight of Louis as every person there seems to jump up, hooting and hollering at him. He’s almost to the chorus when he finally sees Louis stand up as well. He lets a sultry sideways smile cross his face. Harry stares at him intently as he belts out the next lines of the song.

Somethin’ ‘bout you

Makes me feel like a dangerous woman

Somethin’ ‘bout, somethin’ ‘bout, somethin’ ‘bout you

Makes me wanna do things that I shouldn’t

His eyes burn straight through the crowd to Louis’ face. He watches as Louis sinks back into his chair and disappears from sight.

#happy birthday B #nottoooldforthisship #don't need permission #my fic!#just hear this and then I'll go #time stamp

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