#im so sorry that this was so long I opened the family floodgates Im soRRY FIOSDHOGIHSDGOISD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moririki · 3 years ago

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⤷ A DEVIL, THEN A MAN

DENJI X READER -> 1.2K there's only so much blood and killing that you can take

REQUEST -> ✰ CONTAINS -> nonspecific gore and mentions of blood, basically you are like reze but perfectly normal (spoiler alert), uhhhh heavy on the angst :(, mentions of death, mostly consisting of flashbacks in italics, one (1) awkward ass joke, shit writing honestly, i omitted one of the prompts anon im sorry!!! MORI'S THOUGHTS -> i'm so sorry for this one but i didn’t know what else to write!! denji smut coming soon <3

YOU'VE HEARD YOUR FAIR SHARE OF HORROR STORIES ABOUT WORKING A GRAVEYARD SHIFT. under the guise of a pitch black sky, all manners of people started crawling around, hungry for something. and with you being a waitress at a diner, it was safe to say that you'd see a good selection of said people.

you didn't exactly work in the safest neighbourhood, and you've learnt that it's best to keep your head down while you took orders. the words avoid confrontation were pretty prominent in your mind when your eyes zeroed in on questionably coloured stains or bloodied hands. it wasn't your business, after all. and hey, some of them even tipped well.

it was a pretty good rule to follow. so in a way, you only really had yourself to blame for the following events that occured over the span of these last two weeks.

it had all started so ordinarily. you had been wiping down a freshly vacated table in an otherwise empty diner when you heard the chime of the front door as someone new came in.

"hi, how can i help y-" as your eyes caught up with your mouth, words died on your tongue as you took in the sight in front of you. a boy, wearing a shirt and tie, completely covered in blood from head to toe. if you looked past all the red, you could see his blond hair, and that he looked to be around your age.

"oh my god." you stood up straight, feeling panic set in as you saw just how much blood there was. "do you need me to call an ambulance?" the boy just shook his head, even smiling, before walking up to the counter and taking a seat.

"i'm good, can i just get a burger?"

that seemed so long ago. in reality, it had only been two weeks. against, your better judgement, you decided to take his order and leave him be. for the most part, anyway.

"what's your name?" you couldn't help but blurt it out. you had just set the burger that the boy had ordered down in front of him, and the additional question spilled out. his hands were already picking it up, but he paused and looked at you, mildly surprised.

"it's denji."

that information was like a key to open some floodgates, and it was a bitter memory of yours.

the food here must have been better than you thought, because denji was back. though this time the sun was still up, and his shirt and tie were devoid of any blood or guts.

you couldn't help your smile when you turned your head towards the ringing bell of the front door and spotted his familiar face. you finished taking the order of the family sat at the table in front of you, before sauntering over to where denji was. funnily enough, it was the exact same spot as last time.

"hey, stranger." denji perked up at your voice, almost like he'd been waiting for you. you smiled at the thought, taking out your notepad to keep your mind busy. "how can i help you?" denji smiled up at you, shamelessly.

"well, you could tell me your name. i never got it last time." he made you laugh, and you bit your lip as you tapped your nametag with your pen.

"it's right here, mister."

"i can't read."

you went bright red at that, feeling embarrassed about your blunder. the feeling only worsened when denji laughed at your face, resting his chin on one of his hands. you covered your face with your own, peeking out at him between two fingers.

"it's y/n," you mumbled, voice muffled by your palms.

as you sat curled in front of your tv, eyes widened in horror as you took in the content of the news report, you found yourself wondering whether denji was really as harmless as he let on.

“so, denji, what do you do?” your favourite customer was back, though it was just for a bowl of fries this time. he held one between his fingers, though his attention was still trained on you.

“what do you mean?”

you giggled, sliding into a seat next to him. it was late, and he was the only one left. with the cook out back for a smoke break, you were effectively the only two in the building. not that you minded.

“i mean, where else do you go when you aren’t here?”

“i’m a devil for hire.”

you thought he was just joking at the time, but with the news reporter’s voice rattling off a list of casualties, things seemed to be slotting into place. there was a bigger picture forming, and you didn’t like it.

the last time denji visited you while you worked, it was a lot more different than the other times.

for starters, his presence didn’t make a smile spread across your face. you almost dreaded the bell, and having to turn to see his cheery face and just act like everything was okay.

he was perceptive. the smile from his face dropped, and you approached his table on shaky legs.

“can i take your order?” your tone was a lot more clipped, completely devoid of any previous warmth. denji recoiled, like you had reached across the counter and slapped him.

“are you alright?” his voice was tentative, and you were glad that there weren’t any other customers in the diner right now. it really had been just denji these past few days. and try as you might, you just couldn't bring yourself to hate him.

even if the news reports coming in every day spoke of the violence used by a chainsaw devil, one who was sat right in front of you, your head and heart couldn't make the distinction between denji and that thing.

"i don't know who you are any more." your voice sounded hollow, and the blond boy's eyes widened in panic.

"y/n? what do you mean?" the panic in his tone sounded so genuine, so human, and it was messing with your head. surely, he was anything but.

"the news, denji. i hear stories of some chainsaw devil mowing down so many people. it's you, isn't it?" the boy was silent, now, and it spoke louder than any words could. you felt your pen and notepad slip from your grasp, one of your hands covering your mouth as you felt your lip tremble. as if moving on strings, you started staggering away from denji's seats, feeling tears start to well up in your eyes as it dawned on you.

"i'm sorry," denji tried. he was out of his seat by now, torn between wanting to go to you or respect the fact that he was the last person that you wanted to see right now. you shook your head at his outstretched hand, vehemently, and denji withdrew it like you had slapped him.

you couldn't bring yourself to look into his eyes.

eyes that had been so delicate and warm when you first met him, and then kept meeting him. eyes that lit up whenever you spoke to him, ones that you never thought belonged to a murderer.

eyes that now looked like they had been extinguished as denji nodded, an air of finality to the motion.

you could only watch his back as he headed to the door, not even giving you a second glance as the bell chimed and the door slammed shut behind him one final time.

take a look at the menu - ,, 🫀 ·˚ ༘ ꒱

#moririki‧₊˚✩彡.🧺#100 followers event!‧₊˚✩彡.📦#x reader #csm #chainsaw man #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader #denji x reader #denji angst #chainsaw man angst #csm angst #csm imagines #chainsaw man imagines #denji imagines #denji #angst‧₊˚✩彡.🕰#event‧₊˚✩彡.📦

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bts-reveries · 3 years ago

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expect the unexpected |15

The Kim family had just finished dinner and were having family time in the living room!

Minseok played with his siblings on the coffee table. He was teaching his younger brother and sister how to share their toys as they often fought with each other. The two youngest’s personalities often clashed as Soojin and Haneul were both chaotic in their own ways.

“Soojinie,” Minseok calls, he notices that his brother was pouting next to his sister. “Let Haneul borrow that.” He points to the car Soojin was playing with. “You’ve been holding onto that this whole time, Haneul’s been wanting to play with it too.”

“But it’s mine,” Soojin says, holding it close to her chest.

“I know, but Haneul just wants to play with it. It will still be yours,” Minseok says, holding his arm out for the toy. Soojin hesitates, but gives it to him anyway.

“Here Han-Han,” Minseok says, acting cute when he gives the toy to Haneul. He only calls Haneul that when Haneul’s sad.

Haneul immediately lights up when the toy car is given to him.

“Thanks hyungie~”

“At least we raised one nice one,” Jin says, watching his three kids. The two of you were sitting on the couch. Well, you were sitting on the couch. Jin was laying down, facing up, with his feet on the arm of the couch and his head on your lap.

He turns his head to look up at you, snuggling his head on your lap.

“They’re all sweet in their own way,” you respond, watching Soojin finally play with Haneul and Minseok smiling as he watches them two. “Look at them.” You gesture to the kids, watching them laugh with each other.

“Yeah, if only it was like this all the time,” Jin sighs. Nowadays, he’s been busier and has been out of the house often. When he is with the kids, they’re often in bad moods, or he’s had a stressful day. Sometimes they're all in bad moods which makes it all just stressful for one another. If only it was like this all the time. When everyone’s happy~

He turns his head to look up at you.

“Can you believe it’s almost been a month since our trip?” Jin says. Your anniversary trip was almost a month ago. Which is crazy to think. Time goes by fast doesn’t it?

The two of you have been busy, with work and with the kids. Sometimes together, sometimes individually. There’s been long nights and long days. But it’s all worth it in the end. For nights like this.

“I miss Jeju,” Jin pouts, closing his eyes. You giggle, poking his round cheeks. “I wanna go on anodo twip~~” he whines, talking in aegyo. You roll your eyes, cupping his cheeks and shaking his head from side to side.

“My baby wants to go on anodo twip?” you repeat, jutting out your bottom lip. Right when the word baby leaves your mouth, you see Haneul’s head whip towards you from your peripheral vision. You look up at him and he’s frowning.

“I’m the baby,” he says, pointing to himself. Jin turns to look at him and shakes his head.

“I’m mommy’s baby,” Jin says, turning his head toward your stomach, looking away from his kids. You look up at Haneul and you can tell that he’s mad. Minseok starts to giggle as Haneul starts walking up to his dad.

“No! Me!” Haneul yells as he stands in front of his dad. “I’m baby!” With that came a smack to Jin’s shoulder. Jin’s head whips toward him so fast and his eyes are wide.

“Did you just hit me?”

Haneul hits him again. “I’m mommy’s baby,” he says, smacking Jin’s chest.

“Stop hitting my daddy!” Soojin yells, running towards her brother. She pushes him to the side and hugs Jin. Of course this made Haneul scream.

A quiet household doesn’t last long for you five.

“Soojinah,” Jin whines, holding onto his chest. Acting as if he was so hurt. “Haneul hurt daddy.”

“See you hurt my daddy!” Soojin yells, pushing Haneul back down as he finally gets up on his feet.

“Yah--” You say, putting an arm on her shoulder. Let’s not take this too far.

“That’s my daddy too!” Haneul yells out. This whole time Minseok was just leaning over the coffee table, watching everything unfold before him.

“No he’s mine!” Soojin yells.

“No, daddy is mine,” you say, making both of them turn to you. You lean down and hug Jin’s head, pressing his cheek against yours. “And I have known daddy for longer.”

You give Jin a kiss on the cheek, he already had a cheeky smile on his face. You turn to look back up at Soojin and her lips are quivering and her eyebrows were already turned upwards.

“Soojinah--” You say, right before the floodgates have opened.

Now you had two screaming and crying children as Haneul started crying right after his sister did. You froze, looking up at your last, quiet child. You and Minseok made eye contact and he let out a little smile, making you laugh. Your laughing only made Soojin cry louder.

“Alright alright, daddy is yours, come here,” Jin says, sitting up and opening his arms. Soojin is still crying as she walks into her dad’s embrace. Jin picks her up, placing her on his lap. Soojin tucks her arms under herself, sandwiched between hers and Jin’s chest. Jin rubs her back, saying “it’s okay, no need to cry.”

“Haneul come to mommy?” You say, opening your arms as well. Haneul stands up and runs into your arms, crying into your chest.

“How’d it turn out like this?” You say to Jin, letting out a small laugh. He shrugs his shoulders, smiling at you.

You both are rubbing the two youngest’s backs, trying to calm them down.

“Look at Minseok,” Jin tells you. You look up at your oldest and see him just awkwardly looking at you two.

“What about you? Who’s your favorite?” You ask him. Clearly Soojin was more of a daddy’s girl and Haneul was more of a mommy’s boy, even though he was fighting over Jin.

“I love both of you equally,” Minseok answers. Jin nodded in approval, he said the right answer.

“Oh! But hey, Haneul looks like you’re winning him over,” you tell Jin. Haneul often liked to be trouble with his dad, as if he hated him. But of course he was always sweet with you.

“Is that true Haneul-ah?~” Jin says, lowering his head down and looking at Haneul. He’s calmed down now, both him and his sister. “Do you like daddy more now?”

Haneul looks up at Jin and looks back down, ignoring his answer.

He definitely loves his dad.

“Can you two make up now?” You say, referring to Haneul and Soojin. You and Jin pulled away from the little ones for them to sit up and look at one another.

“Make up so we can play already,” Minseok says, walking towards his siblings.

“Han-Han~” Minseok says, putting a hand on Haneul’s back. “Jinie-Jinie-Soojinie~” He says in a sing-songy voice, turning to his sister and putting a hand on her back.

Haneul slides off of you and hugs Minseok, looking up at his sister.

“Go say sorry to Haneul,” Jin tells Soojin. She frowns, sliding off of him and walking towards Minseok.

“Sorry Haneul,” she says, pulling and tugging onto Minseok’s shirt, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Haneul say sorry to noona too,” you say.

“Sorry~” He says, looking up at his sister.

“Okay~ Let’s play now,” Minseok says, patting Haneul’s back.

With that, the three turned around and began playing as if nothing had just happened. Jin sighs, going back to his previous position and laying back into your lap.

“Yeah,” he says, eyes closed and all. “I want to go back to Jeju.”

You laugh, patting his cheeks.

“We can go,” you say, his eyes opened so quickly. As if they were saying ‘really??’

You nod, ��but with the kids this time.” He whines, dropping his head down and shutting his eyes. You laugh at his reaction, squishing his cheeks once again.

*ring ring*

You turn to the sound. “Is that mine?” You say. You and Jin have the same ringtones.

“I think so, my phone is in our room,” Jin responds. Eyes still closed, not budging one bit.

“Well can you get off of me so I can get it?”

Jin shakes his head no. You sigh.

“I’ll get it mommy,” Minseok says, running to your phone.

“Thanks sweetie,” you say, watching your oldest run and get your phone. He gives it back to you quickly and returns back to his siblings.

“Oh it’s my dad,” you say, answering the call.

“Hello?” You say. “Dad, is everything okay?” Your eyes widen as he explains the unexpected call. You didn’t have much to say but ‘Yes-- What?-- When?-- Wait-- Why?-- Tomorrow?-- Okay.. I’ll be there.’

You ended the call after what seemed like forever.

It was mostly you listening while your dad talked. Jin looks up at you, he couldn’t hear much of the conversation.

“What did he say?” he asks.

“My mom’s sick,” you say, feeling uneasy. “I have to leave tomorrow.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

expect the unexpected

♡ part fifteen: im baby ♡

pairings: ceo, dad!jin x interior designer, mom!reader

a/n: okay i feel like i’ve been saying this, but nOw we’re getting somewhere

also, i know i haven’t been constant as i used to be and that’s more of a part of me not being in the mood to post much, which is also on the fact that i don’t think much people (at least compared to the previous member’s au), are reading this one? i have new readers everyday for the other au’s and although a lot of people love this series and were anticipating this au, this has been the au with the least feedback/readers which make me wonder if it’s boring or what haha ahh.. i don’t want to be that person who’s looking for likes or anything but in the bts tumblr fanfic community idk if everyone’s aware of this, but jin’s au tend to be the ones with the least amount of readers etc. which is why there isn’t much fics on him, a lot of writers gets unmotivated to write for him when they know it doesn’t get as much as tae’s and jungkook’s. and im starting to feel that way, just because for previous au’s i’d constantly post because i’d always get feedback on every update and it motivates me to write more but this au has been the driest au ever lol which is sad because a lot of people were asking to be added to the taglist and i have no idea what happened to them now but i just hope everyone’s okay! i know none of us are obligated to be on top of reading updates but i just wanted to say how i felt. the only thing keeping me going on this au is jin. haha, as silly as that sounds, i don’t want more au’s on him to discontinue because of things like this. im ot7, this whole au is for all of the members so i hope my followers and fellow tmbmil fam continue to read till the end because i did had something planned for the ending, which might just not happen depending on how this au ends. but also the others that keep me going is my sister, a fellow jin bias, and the handful of readers who comment on my updates haha but yeah, this is just how im feeling. i don’t want anyone to think im just not in the mood to do this thing anymore. i really did enjoy this

this was an unexpectedly long a/n, im sure only a few will read this actually, but to those 3 or 5 people who see this, i hope you have a lovely day/night! thank you for reading this, you have my love 💜

taglist: @silentlyimpractical @jillianmarie @waddlebby @cecedrake2217 @ddofa @samros95 @sope-and-shine @joonjoonsmiles @codeinebelle @aianloveseven @Chamchamcham @princessjazzyjazz @notvantaes @casspirit0705 @ramyagovindraj @brinnalaine @ephyra1230 @betysotelo18 @thoughtfultaledreamer @salty-for-suga @cosmicdaylight @dreamcatcherjiah @kookoo-kachoo @justinetingball @josierosie @jayhope88 @butterflylion @hobiismyhopeu @momma-said-that-it-was-oke @shinyplaidbagellamp @catspancake @somewhereofftheglobe @strawberryforever25 @rjsmochii @prdshobi @beeeb05 @eatjeanjin @taekookcaneatme @Cheeely14 @kookietsukkie @anpanman-sonyeondan @glitteringcoffeefreak @chocobetterknot @alpaca1612 @ohmy-fandoms @liljooniecutie @Jikachoo @preciouschimine @fan-ati--c @Joondala @httpmuffin @dammit-jjk @jikooksgirl19

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

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margarethx · 3 years ago

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hello ! any ideas for sambucky fanarts you'd like to see ? im looking for some inspiration and motivation

Oh boy... You cannot ask me questions like that (/j). It's like opening the floodgates. With my inability to finish any story or artwork all I really have is ideas :D But okay! I'll gladly give you some :> I even wanted to make a list of art prompts for Sambucky, so I can start here.

And anyone can use these btw. You can tag me if you do.

--- ----- ---

25 Sambucky art prompts

1. I already said that somewhere, but: Sam with long hair. So he and Bucky can be each other's hairdressers.

2. Sam and Bucky trying on the 40s clothes. (Military uniforms or not.)

3. Them switching outfits from any of their MCU movies.

4. Honestly... Them in any other super-hero costume. Draw Sam as Doctor Strange and Bucky as... I don't know. Nebula. And make them fall in love :>

5. Sam and Bucky as two Winter Soldiers also counts.

6. Bucky lifting very heavy things for Sam to show off.

7. Both of them looking at old photos of their family and friends, learning about each other and sharing memories.

8. Every artwork with Sam as Rapunzel and Bucky as Eugene is great since someone compared the way they look at each other to Tangled.

9. Sam as a real angel falling in love with humanity. By "humanity" I mean one problematic, grumpy human.

10. Them as normal kids who grew up together. At whatever age. Can be 5, 11, or 17. Or all of these.

11. Sam visiting Bucky in Wakanda.

12. Sam finding Bucky around 2015. (They can sit in a cafe or in a hotel room. Or hide from everyone on some rooftop.)

13. Sam taking Bucky flying.

14. Wait... it's all positive. So one of them being injured and unconscious and the other one trying to wake them up or waiting next to a hospital bed :)))

15. Sam and Bucky meeting their versions from another reality.

16. Sam summoning birds at random moments when he's with Bucky. (Bucky attracts raccoons instead.)

17. Them trying to make impressions of each other.

18. Another angsty one: them trying to say sorry after a more painful argument.

19. Bucky trying to be an oldfashioned gentleman on a date.

20. Younger Sam (like in the military with Riley) meeting the Winter Soldier. Maybe helping him with injuries or something.

21. Them but with Star Wars aesthetic.

22. Anything with their two cats is cool.

23. Give Sam real wings. A pretty angel-like ones. The falcon-inspired ones. Some dark and creepy ones. Doesn't matter. He can carry Bucky on all of these all the same.

24. One of them is a very annoying ghost "haunting" their still alive partner... friend... guy. By haunting I mean bothering.

25. The Sun/Moon symbolism is always nice for them. But also consider: Spring/Winter. Or Fire/Water. Or Life/Death.

--- ----- ---

I don't know how confident you are with your artistic skills or what kind of things you usually enjoy to draw, so I just threw everything together and I tried to simplify it a little so it's not like an idea for a comic necessarily.

Hope any of these will help :>

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bump1nthen1ght · 4 years ago

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Deep Blue Sea (Shark Merman x Reader) Chapter 2

Pairing: Gender Neutral! Reader/Shark Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Warning: Slight description of Animal Violence. Nothing too graphic, but if the genre of stuff you see on Shark week isn’t for you, skip over the part denoted by the *******

Word Count: 3530 words

Summary: You learn more about Cruz and about yourself

Prologue

Chapter 1

“-and then he just leaves. What do I even do with that?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Your roommate hums, refilling up your glass of wine. “And you don’t have his number, so you can’t call or text him right?” You take a large sip, nodding and trying not to spill wine on your pajamas.

Well, kind of.

You hadn’t told anyone about Cruz, not even your family, because frankly you didn't know where to start. But when you walked into the apartment, sullen and dragging your feet, your roommate, Caitlyn, had offered wine, ice cream, and a willing ear. That's when the floodgates opened (with some modified details, of course).

“We’re meeting at our usual place in a couple days, I just…”Another sip of wine,”...hate sitting here, not knowing what he’s feeling, what I did, how I’m feeling.” You set down your glass and throw yourself back against the couch, sinking into the cushions. “I feel so stupid, like a fucking teenager, and I hate it.” Caitlyn sets her own wine glass down and nudges the half-empty ice cream carton towards you.

“It’s for the best your feeling all this now, then you can come at ‘im all composed and articulate. Really throw him off his game.” You grab a spoon and the carton, Caitlyn patting your shoulder as you take a pathetic bite.

“You’re right but I-I don’t even know. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Sounds like this guy’s got you hooked. At least that’s a start right?” Caitlyn hums, pressing her chin into her palm. “To be completely honest, Sam took a couple days to warm up to me. And I never told her this, but she gave me hardcore pretentious vibes on our first date.”

Caitlyn gives a long spiel about her awkward first soulmate date (“Seriously, who brings up ‘the superiority of vinyl’ on the first date!”), and if you were in the mind to be a good roommate, or hadn’t heard this story before, you might’ve listened closer. But only one question was occupying your thoughts; Did Cruz like you?

--------

You arrive at the boardwalk an hour early. You don’t immediately go to the tidepool, instead choosing to take a long walk on the beach, taking a moment to calm your racing heart and collect your thoughts.

You like Cruz. You like him as much as two people who just met can, despite a less-than-romantic first impression. But does he like you?

You never thought you would have to ask your soulmate that.

There’s a small thwap as you slap your cheeks, heat simmering your skin even as the cold water laps at your feet.

This is ridiculous. You’ve talked twice. Caitlyn and Sam have a thriving relationship (You should know, you share a wall with Caitlyn) and even they got off to a rocky start.

The pit grows in your stomach, thinking of Cruz’s disinterested stare as he swims into the open ocean. The weight of it almost sinks to your toes.

You shake your head, slapping your cheeks once more.

Today is a new day. Just go through the motions _____.

You reach the tidepool, setting down your picnic blanket and bag. You grab one of your notebooks and prop it open as you bite into an apple. You’re 30 minutes early, might as well get some reading done.

The waves crash and pull against the rocks, pleasant studying ambience, but is interrupted by several clicks and abrupt, out of rhythm, splashes. You look up, immediately in awe of the sight.

About 50 feet away from the entrance to the tidepool is a pod of dolphins, breaching out of the water. You grab a pencil, your phone, and your notebook, tiptoeing through the tidepool to get a better look.

Good choice wearing water shoes today.

From closer up, you notice the distinct lack of dorsal fins and realize they must be Northern White Whale Dolphins. 60 of them have congregated in a group, most likely scouting for easy food or taking a rest.

Their pod is pretty small though. What are they doing so close to the shore?

The pod continues to play as you take shaky photos with your camera, trying to balance your notebook and pencil in the crook of your elbow. Through your viewfinder, you spot a familiar shape, not 30 feet from the pod, peeking his head out of the water. Cruz’s black eyes narrow into focus before he fully submerges. Your eyes widen as you lower your camera.

The water above Cruz rushes as he swims closer and closer to the pod. You tuck your phone back into your pocket as you finagle your way up to a nearby rock. You need a better view, and it might be best to be out of the water while this happens.

The dolphins haven’t noticed Cruz yet, still gliding along the waves. There's a quick flash of his strong back before he dives even deeper into the water. The rock slightly digs into your stomach as you lean over to get a better look.

What I wouldn’t give for a drone right now.

Before long, there is a burst of clicks, the largest dolphins quickly surrounding the group and issuing them away. They’ve spotted Cruz, but one is a little too slow.

Cruz’s dorsal fin cuts through the water, close enough to the surface that you can make out the details of his determined face. His eyes have latched onto the slowest dolphin and his speed increases exponentially. His long tail flicks back and forth as he gains on it.

*******

The dolphin flips into the air, trying to gain distance. But like a flash Cruz’s large hand shoots out of the water, getting a hold of the dolphin’s tail, and pulls. You see his shoulder and tricep bulge as the dolphin thrashes in his grip. His head once again breaches the water as he digs his other clawed hand into the dolphin’s side, raking into it as he pulls the dolphin closer to him. The two tussle and wrestle against each other, going in and out of the water as the dolphin tries to push Cruz away.

But Cruz is limber, keeping a tight grip on the dolphin as he maneuvers his body alongside it. His torso raises up as he pushes the dolphin down under the water and into submission. Cruz then yanks the dolphin’s front upwards and out of the water, grip still tight on it’s rear, before opening up his maw and tearing into the dolphin’s neck. He rips his head back and forth until the dolphin stills, a large pool of red slowly cascading around them.

*******

Your pencil hangs loosely in your fingers as you watch, eyes locked on Cruz. You think the struggle must’ve lasted only 20 seconds, but in the moment, it felt like hours. Cruz’s chest heaves as he takes another bite, serrated teeth easily ripping the flesh, as casual as the lobster roll from your last meeting.

Blood drips from his mouth and covers his claws. His cards his fingers back through his hair, leaving crimson streaks that shine against his black locks. Cruz bites off another mouthful before heaving the dolphin onto his shoulder.

As a large science nerd, you’ve always enjoyed watching nature in progress. But a new, exciting, vaguely uncomfortable feeling stirs in your gut as you watch Cruz suck in his fingers, picking out stray bits of meat from his large, sharp teeth. A feeling like a shiver rushing down your spine and heat in between your legs.

Oh my god. Why was that the hottest thing I’ve ever seen?

Cruz turns away and submerges himself, giving you a nice shot of his defined back muscles as he sums up his hunt. You can’t take your eyes off his form moving just below the water, even as your 5 PM alarm goes off.

You knew Cruz was larger, and far stronger, than you, but seeing him in his element reminds you just how easily he could tear you apart.

God, and I kind of want him to.

As he swims further away from the shore, you see two black dots in the distance. You take out your phone again and open up the camera to zoom in.

Speaking of huge. Holy shit.

The focus is a little blurry, but it’d be hard for you to miss the massive mermaids. With only their shoulders and up out of water, they still tower over Cruz by at least a head each. Both have long black hair, intertwined with what looks to be seaweed and various types of shells. The one on the right is holding two larger masses over her shoulders, positioned the way a lumberjack would hold a fallen tree. Cruz reemerges with his dolphin in tow, frighteningly small.

Cruz’s gestures indicate they’re having a conversation, mostly one-sided. The dolphin on Cruz’s back bounces as he talks animatedly, his hunt small when compared to the two weights the right mermaid carries. With your old phone you can only catch a glimpse of the left mermaid’s lips moving. Cruz’s energy dims as she continues and he seems to sink deeper into the water.

The left mermaid holds out her hand. Cruz hesitates, then throws his dolphin into her arms. She swings it over like it weighs nothing and then shakes her hand as if to shoo him away. The right one rumbles with laughter. Cruz nods, solemn as the two submerge and swim away.

Cruz stays there for a minute, looking out at the horizon. When he finally turns, his movements are lethargic as he swims towards the tidepool.

You scramble down from the rock and quickly tiptoe back to your blanket, fumbling to stuff your notebook and pencil back into your bag.

Cruz glides in, his eyes not meeting yours, locked in thought.

“Hey Cruz.” You wave, struggling to catch your breath from your impromptu rush.

Cruz slowly looks up at you, still slightly downcast.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” You shake your head furiously.

“It’s no problem! I got her kind of early, and then I saw you hunting and didn’t want to bother.” Cruz’s eyes widen a bit, before her recoils into himself and sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

“Oh, sorry. You probably didn’t want to see that….” You once again shake your hands and head back and forth.

“No! No I-, I actually thought it was super cool!” Cruz quirks his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Yeah! It was like my own personal Shark week. Like wow, you looked amazing out there.”

Cruz’s cheek tint a cerulean blue, the corners of his lips turning up at the sides as he fiddles with his fingers.

“And those dolphins are the fastest kind around here, but bam! You were on them like a firecracker, kind of wish I had a slow motion camera.” You laugh, before realizing Cruz probably didn’t understand half of your analogies. “You looked uh, you were really good at it.”

Well duh, you idiot. He’s a shark.

“Thank you.” Cruz shoots you a tiny smile, blush still running across his face and down his neck. The ensuing silence is only slightly uncomfortable, as Cruz’s blush stays strong and you're sure you develop one of your own. You try and focus on something else to calm down, but catch a glimpse of his biceps, and fail miserably.

“Oh, that’s right.” Cruz reaches over and sticks his hand in between two nearby rocks. His brow furrows before his eyes light up, and he pulls out a….handbag?

It’s loosely sewn together with kelp, made of some sort of seal skin and closed with a seashell button. Cruz pops it open and begins to rummage inside.

“Gotcha.” Cruz pulls something out of the bag, before turning and hiding it behind his back.

“Uh, whatcha got there?” Cruz smiles, his blue blush painting his face from top to tip.

“I found this thing and thought you um….might want to look at it?” Cruz pulls his arm in front, revealing a reflective white shell, just a bit longer than his palm.

“It’s not a crab, but I thought it was neat looking so….”

You slowly move towards him, gesturing to ask if you can hold the shell. Cruz nods, almost shoving it into your hand.

The color is completely white, sharp, almost polished-looking. It carves into several rings before sloping into a point. It’s empty, the inside free of any sand or tiny algae.

“Do you know what it’s called?”

You look back to Cruz and nearly brush your nose against his. You realize how hot his body heat is as he leans over you to look at the shell. Your shoulders just barely touch.

As if dipped into boiling water, your face alights into red and your body convulses to jerk away from the heat.

“Yeah-Yes! Actually I do, it’s-it looks like a Kellets W-Welk. Well, the remains of one’s shell anyway.”

Cruz stays close, letting out a small “Ohhh.” as he squints his eyes to get a closer look. It’s the most on-land you’ve seen him, with the water lapping at the base of his tail. Sitting down, your head only comes to his clavicle. The uncomfortable burning stirs in your gut.

“Is it a hermit crab?”

“Not, it’s a sea snail. They're not really on land like crabs.” You brush your thumbs over the shell’s ridges. “There are quite a few varieties of sea snails around here, lots of beautiful shells. Their babies look pretty cool too.”

Cruz nods, eyes intent, and it reminds you of the elementary kids you saw when working at the aquarium. Your heart skips as you futilely try to fight the smile on your face.

“Can you eat ‘em?”

You chuckle and Cruz’s face grows a darker shade of blue. “Yeah, you can. You’ve got a good eye for snacks huh?”

Cruz pouts playfully, blue still awash on his cheeks. “Maybe, but I’m not always thinking about food.” Just as he finishes, you hear his stomach rumble. You stifle your laugh with your hand and Cruz grabs his stomach angrily. “Sh-Shut up! It’s almost dinner!”

The two mermaids flash in your mind. You see Cruz handing over the dolphin as they swim away. Then you see Cruz, furiously cracking open crabs with a single-minded purpose. The smile drops from your chin.

How often does that happen?

Cruz was small for a Great White. You hadn’t even thought about why. You don’t even know if you want to.

“They’re pretty tasty, but their shells are a lot more fun.” Cruz furrows his brow again. “Here, let me show you.” You scoot yourself closer to him, putting the white shell against his ear. His eyes widen and he leans backwards a bit from your closeness, but the shell still lingers by his ear. “Do you hear it?”

Cruz stills, furrowing his brows even deeper, but then they rise in surprise. He leans back towards you, tentatively grabbing your wrist and pulling the shell closer.

“Its-”

“The ocean.”

The same childlike wonder from before flushes on his face as he looks at you, bringing your stomach a flutter. Cruz presses his head down closer to the shell, the bottom of his cheek now touching your palm. Cruz’s skin is cool against yours, slightly damp, and you feel the hint of roughness as his chin brushes against your wrist.

“How-How did you-”

“My mom showed me once. I mean, technically it’s the echo of the blood coursing through your ear, which reverberates and sounds like waves crashing. But it’s still a neat trick.”

“Oh, I see….”

From this close, you can see the small freckles which dapple Cruz’s cheeks, peppering across the bridge of his nose and up onto his forehead. Specks of dark blue, black, and green contrasts against his light gray skin, like the setting sun catching the pulling tides.

In the moment, you long to touch them.

So you do.

It’s so….soft.

As your thumb brushes up his jaw, the mottled colors are overwhelmed and overshadowed by Cruz’s furious blush. Cruz moves away so quickly that he unfurls his grip on a nearby rock and loses his balance. He braces himself and hisses as his thin skin nicks the corner of a rock.

“Oh my god, I’m so-so sorry! I just- oh my goodness are you okay?” You retract the shell closer to your chest, your other hand outstretched to steady Cruz. When he flinches away, you pull it back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have invaded your personal space like that.”

Cruz's chest heaves but he doesn’t move or say anything. From the corner of your eye you spot a tiny bit of blood leaking onto the rock.

“Oh shit, wait I-I should have something.” You whip around to your backpack, shuffling and pushing aside your notebook to find your emergency first aid kit. Water wells in the corner of your eyes as you frantically search. You desperately try to will the tears away.

Stupid, stupid, stupid stupid-

Your inner insults are interrupted when your fingers brush against the familiar plastic fabric pouch. Before turning back to Cruz, you hastily wipe your eyes.

“Here, this should help.” You hold out the small thing of gauze and an antiseptic wipe. Cruz slowly takes them, fiddling with the gauze until it's undone. He picks up the antiseptic package with the tips of his forefinger and thumb, eyes squinting as he tries to read the small text.

“That’s to clean the wound with, to get the gross stuff out.” Cruz’s eyes narrow even further, brushing his thumb over the paper wrapping. Tentatively, he plops the unwrapped wipe on his wound. He looks back, clearly confused. “You have to unwrap it first, then wipe it.” His blush returns as he jerks his eyes away from you, embarrassed with you watching.

“I could do-”

“I’ve got it.” Cruz snaps, finding the perforation and ripping it off quickly.

“Okay, but it’s gonna sting-”

“Ow, shit!” Cruz curses as he presses the wipe against the apex of his cut, whining and biting his lower lip.

“If it’s hurting that means it’s working.” Cruz nods, but he hastily wipes the wound and sighs as he crumples it up.Cruz wraps his cut with medical precision, reminding you of boxers right before a match. He cuts the gauze short with a snip of his teeth

“Wow, you're really good at that.” Cruz snorts.

“I don’t need any jackasses going into a frenzy anytime soon. That would be the perfect end to this shit day.”

Your heart freezes as your stomach drops, and you recoil into yourself. The nausea of guilt washes over you. And then that makes you feel even worse, and so the cycle continues.

Cruz notices your sheepish, downtrodden stare, and frantically waves his good hand.

“Wait, shit, no, thats-thats not what I meant. Uh…” He loses track of his sentence, mouth agape as he looks for words. “I mean….thank you.” He fiddles with his claws. “For the bandage, a-and the food a couple days ago. This is...nice.”

You’re almost embarrassed by how quickly his praise perks you up, rolling over your tense muscles like a masseuse.

“Thank you for the shell, it was very thoughtful of you.” Cruz sputters.

“I just passed by it on a swim, it wasn’t a big deal. The reefs got a ton of them, so, y’know.”

You don’t know, but it’s cute watching him fumble with his words. He’s so bashful for an apex predator you saw kill a dolphin not 20 minutes ago.

“I could even-well, it’s close that we- we could go sometime? You and me?” Cruz fiddles with his claws once more, and you wonder if it’s a nervous compulsion. “It’s a little ways away from the coast but with me carrying you, we could probably see a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Cruz’s nervous smile is much more lopsided than his regular one. It accentuates the dimple on his left cheek.

“I would love that.”

-----------

You decide to meet up early on Saturday to get a head start on the sunlight. You leave the boardwalk giddy, your nerves tingling pleasantly with pre-plan jitters. All this energy means you might have to spill to Caitlyn once more, just to let it all out. You’ll most likely tell her you two are getting breakfast by the beach, maybe stop by an aquarium.

Looking at all the coral and the crustaceans. Just me, in Cruz’s arms-

You stop, your nerves bubbling up under your skin, like steam is blowing out of your ears as you think about what is in store for Saturday.

You’re still not sure how Cruz feels about you. But there isn’t a show of a doubt now; You have a crush on him.

----------

Cruz sits in the water, cracking open a leftover oyster he had left in his bag for emergencies. Emergencies like being so flustered he can't possibly go back to the pod, not without looking incredibly suspicious.

He brushes his thumb over his cheek, and it’s almost like you're there again.

So….soft.

#my writing #monster romance #monster x reader #reader insert #shark merman #merman #shark merman x reader

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kingleon420 · 3 years ago

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I'm sorry I dropped off the earth, I know it was dead wrong to do.

I was given an ultimatum of stopping contact with you then and there otherwise Lindsay and me would have been over and I would have been homeless and living in my car with no place to go, which is still the case and why I haven't contacted you. She gave me a place to go when my own family turned their back to me and all but kicked me out of the bathroom I was living in. But It's also because of how strong my feelings for you are, I msged you everyday pretty much all the time I've been out here and more or less declaring my love at every turn for you so I know you know how I felt. I still have all my feelings for you rushing back full force even as I type this and even though I know you rightly hate me and everything I am. That is the main reason I was asked to stop contact because I can't control my feelings for you at all, they are so strong.

I want nothing more to watch sunsets into our old age too but I can't do it as just friends, I'm sorry I was never able to neuter my feelings for you back to just friends. Once I opened the floodgates to loving you and feeling more there was no going back, especially with the other worldly bond we share. Maybe a stupid part of me thought stopping talking would fix my feelings and all it has done is make me miss you and long for you more.

I know your in a relationship and I'm assuming don't give a fuck anymore about me in any way which I understand and deserve nothing less after how I made you feel. Did you keep anything of us or any photos or did you pretty much destroy everything so you'd never have to see or be reminded of me or my face again? Did you burn every good feeling you have for me to ash or is there anything left even in a deep dark corner?

I never wanted to make you feel like I made you feel especially after all the effort I put into trying to be a good man to you, special and worth your love and attention. I am living all my nightmares and being "just another man" stings me just as hard as I know you intended it too.

I wanted to send this to your msgs directly but it was too long so I through it in the void anyway. Im Presuming you don't care anymore after what I did and prob don't have anything left in your heart for me so I don't expect you to read this but I wanted to tell you why I dropped off and haven't contacted even if my "reasons" are stupid and weak and do nothing but illustrate what a fool and coward I am.

I miss my Imzadi with all my heart and I regret turning my back every moment of everyday. I'd rather have unrequited love and the respect I once had then unrequited love and knowing that you hate me and that I did it all to myself. I don't know where I got such fatuous ideas that this wouldn't come crashing down and hurt everyone I cared about.

I am so fucking stupid and you didn't deserve the bear the pain I brought on. I've lost myself and I'm so beyond sorry that I dropped off the fucking earth in a blink of an eye. I'm sorry I was selfish and deceptive to keep you all to myself so I wouldn't "lose you" or our bond which my stupid actions ended up doing anyway. I'm sorry I ignored every attempt you made to contact me, I was scared that I would end up getting myself kicked out on the street if I replied, (I know its hardly an excuse and is pathetic). I'm sorry I failed you as a person that you trusted and shared yourself with, as a lover, as a friend and soul mate. I still believe you are my true blue soul mate. I'm sorry for turning my back when everything came crashing down. Everyday since the last time I spoke has been a mental battle and I suspect it will continue because everything I've done to us and myself I fear is irreparable.

I wish I'd never come out here and lost myself, I wish I'd stayed in Ontario and kept fighting for you. I struggle everyday with wanting to text you as soon as I wake up and share every thought, so much has happened and honestly your the only person I've wanted to talk to and tell everything too.

As I said I don't deserve your attention now and I don't suspect that you will have any interest in what I've just written but thats literally all the "reasons" I have even though they are nothing.

I've been a presumptuous fuck this whole time so I don't know of you miss me anymore or not but I miss you so much I can't even find enough words to explain it.

I hope your enjoying the new apt, congrats on the new fur babies. I hope Bean is adjusting ok, I know you have stripped me of Daddy status and will almost certainly never tell Bean that daddy loves/misses her for me but I really do and I hope she is healthy and happy. I hope your enjoying your new apt and living situation too although I'm sure your dad misses you terribly. I know how stressed you were living in Keswick so I'm glad you finally have your own place.

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halorocks1214 · 4 years ago

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ბარტერი (a Thunderbirds fic)

Chapter 2: უბედურება

AO3 Link

Word Count: 2368

Summary: And here they thought getting their father back was the least of their worries.

Chapter 1 | [YOU ARE HERE]

I BE ALIVE. BARELY. BUT I AM ALIVE. my motivation levels are still dead to hell and back, especially for my other Big Fics atm, but my brain decided to hardwire itself all of a sudden for this one and i was able to squirm something out. no promises for consistent uploads just yet because A.) aforementioned “dead inside” ness and B.) college is starting in two weeks and im Very Excite!!!! hope you enjoy this update regardless!

warnings for VERY UNCOMFORTABLENESS. unconsensual/creepy sexual comments and actions are made and boy were they hard to write (sorry Al). also violence violence violence, but hopefully angery older brother makes up for it

He hated it he hated it he hated it hated it he hated it--

Okay, Alan hated a lot of things about this moment right now, so he should probably be more specific. He hated those men, he hated leaving Gordon, he hated how his lungs were trying to heave themselves out of his chest with the way he was running, he hated how there were so many obstacles in his path that it was slowing him down, he hated how he was effectively alone--

Wait, no he wasn’t, the comms! He never turned them back on! No wonder John always told him not to panic, it made him do stupid stuff like that! Not breaking his stride, Alan pulled up his wrist and tried doing just that, but before he could even squeak, a hand came around to the front of his face, essentially muffling him and holding him in one spot.

Okay now this was just straight awful. Bringing his hands up to try and get the stranger’s singular one off his face, Alan bucked and kicked his legs around like a cornered horse, anything to break free from this terrible grip. Jesus, wasn’t this man the smaller one? And he was still able to pick Alan straight up off the ground?! Just what do these guys eat?

Gross and creepy chuckling filled Alan’s ear, somewhat freezing his attempts at escaping. He was still struggling and twitching, but for some reason, his dumb brain was trying to get him to hear whatever this man was going to say, “Ooh, you’re quite the squirmer, aren’t ya? I suppose that’s not a bad thing with those freckles and all. Quite a few clients dig the young thing. The baby fat’s a nice touch, too.” As if those words could be any worse, the man used his free hand to pinch Alan’s cheek right after he finished talking.

Alan keened. He knew his whining was high pitched to begin with, but the noises that came from his mouth were on some kind of level only dogs could hear. Tears started pouring out of his eyes like molten lava, meanwhile, his incessant kicking started up again. This time, it got somewhat literal and kicked up a few notches. Swivels started being involved, and amidst his panic, Alan found it in his brain to try and aim his feet. Any hit landing would be stellar.

But as the Tracy Family Luck would have it, nothing seemed to be working. It didn’t help that the man’s creepy chuckles just seemed to get louder as more time went on. For a split second, Alan felt the man move about an inch as if he were about to drag Alan away to whatever torturous situation he had dreamed up for the blonde. Alan wasn’t aware hope could die in the blink of an eye like that.

But then they both stopped simultaneously.

The rather loud snapping of a tree branch from a few feet away made both men swivel their heads in the direction of the noise. Alan was shocked by how much he could turn with how his neck was essentially trapped.

Alan felt both relief and anxiety wash over him because that was Virgil coming through the bushes to see what exactly his youngest brother had been getting up to. But that’s also where the anxiety was coming from as well. There were very few ways this was ending, and even less of those endings didn’t involve blood.

“Alright, the two of you have been completely dead on the comms for the past 10 minutes and I don’t know which older person in our family I want to deal with less at the moment. You better have a good expla--”

Virgil looked up from watching his steps to see that it very much wasn’t Gordon with their baby brother. It was a random man, which his in-the-middle-of-a-job brain was going to write off as a person Alan saved while Gordon went off to save others, but then he blinked once. Then twice. Then he had to fight the urge to rub his eyes with fists like a scene from a cartoon because he had to let go and realize that yup, what he was seeing was real.

And he fucking despised it.

Because this random, strange man was holding Alan as if his kid bro were random cargo and not a person. His big, sweaty hand wrapped around Alan’s mouth wouldn’t be as incriminating (and it already was a thousand times) if Alan didn’t have giant, blatant tear tracks running down over them. Meaning the hand was there before Alan started crying. Meaning this man was the cause of his brother’s distress.

Virgil’s pupils shrunk (man, that’s a reoccurring theme tonight), and while Alan was scared before, right now, he was terrified.

The floodgates were opened, and Alan was hoping that the damage the metaphorical water created wouldn’t be anything close to the mess the literal tsunami they were cleaning up caused.

---

Virgil was the least violent person in their family.

That’s not to say his thoughts weren’t. Believe him, if you pissed him off the right way he could come up with some pretty beautiful imagery as a form of therapy, but what made him different is that he channeled that anger into something productive and helpful. He didn’t quietly carry out revenge plots like John or threw punches like Scott.

But right now, any kind of breathing exercise was out the door the minute his brain registered the scene. The way the man was gleaming at his brother like he was freshly cut meat was sickening and Virgil was literally willing to resort to a bloody killing to make it stop. What filled him wasn’t anger, nor was it fiery rage.

No, it was red hot, animalistic fury and God help the person who was able to make Virgil come even close to that.

It must have somehow displayed itself. Maybe it was the way Virgil’s eyes zoned in on the man, maybe it was his fists clenching so hard his fingers might break, maybe it was the way his breathing became ragged and dangerous, maybe it was Virgil’s sheer size alone; whatever it was, it made the man’s giddy look drop off his face at the speed of light into pure, unbridled terror.

Good, now he saw how Alan was feeling.

As soon as Virgil saw the man release his hold on Alan to try and run, the middle Tracy moved.

The man wanted to leave very suddenly, huge money-load or not. Sure, it would be a big loss to let go of such a highly well-known person (one that was so young too), but if it meant he wouldn’t be folded in a way that was akin to an origami project, then the man was willing to drop everything and run. He let go of the target, turned around and took about 2 and a half steps before--

The man yelped as he felt himself be grabbed and aggressively shoved into a tree, head bouncing off of it because of momentum. With a groan, he opened his eyes and cried out in fear. Right in front of him was that other IR member. The giant one with muscles as big as steel and probably has the ability to bench press a small herd of bison. He couldn’t help the trembles that were overtaking him, and he was hoping he would at least be alive long enough to go change into a new pair of pants.

“What,” the IR member growled out, “the hell, do you think you’re doing?”

His sputters were weak and laughable, but maybe they would convince the IR member to take pity, “W-W-What? C’ mon, man, I know it looks bad, and yeah, m-maybe you’re coworkers, but, like, als-so relent a little b-bit. He’s cute, n-no?”

A millisecond of silence. Suddenly, Virgil pushed his arms into the man even more, dangerously close to ‘be careful, he might not be able to breathe’ territory, “You’re sick.”

The man, in all of his panicked glory, felt the blood rush to his head and greatly affect his mouth. He was never good at tact, “H-Hey! Don’t kn-knock it till you t-try it.”

Before Virgil could even start to think, his fist moved and collided directly in the man’s face and nose. He's sparred with Kayo. He knew how to hurt. With a step backward, he watched with satisfaction as the man, who was now out cold, slid uncomfortably down the tree. The sight put a grin on Virgil’s face. It was the least he deserved: a crick in his neck.

Now then, this man clearly couldn’t be left to just wake up and go home. He was a menace, and Virgil would hate himself for leaving such a dangerous thing on the streets. The only problem the Tracy couldn’t figure out was that he wasn’t sure where he would put him on ‘Two. It wasn’t anywhere near his brothers, that’s for sure. As Virgil pulled out some spare rope he managed to just have on him (thank God for small coincidences), his mind gleefully became playful. Yes, the roof of his girl would be a fitting seat for his kind. Right as he finished tying one of the strongest knots he knew, he heard a small, quiet, and scared voice speak up from a few feet away.

“Is he, uh, going to wake up soon?”

Oh fuck. Well, any anger or rage left his body like a gust of wind.

Letting the man’s tied up hands fall from his grasp, Virgil snapped his head up to look directly at Alan as if his younger brother caught Virgil with his hand in the cookie jar. ‘Deer in the headlights’ was a good way of describing Virgil, actually. His eyes were wide and his pupils were small once more, but that was because he was suddenly panicking over what exactly all of this entailed.

Because Alan was as far away as he could be from the man but close enough to be able to see Virgil and what the brother was doing to said stranger. Alan was desperately trying to seem like he was holding it together, but the way he held his arms around himself, and the thin sheen of sweat covering his face, Virgil thought he wasn’t succeeding as much as he wanted. A little bit of color had returned, at least, it looked like that, compared to how Alan was when he was being held by his captor. Not to mention the now-drying tear tracks...

Was that Virgil’s breath that was extremely heavy and labored? You know, maybe he should stop doing that. Taking a deep breath, Virgil stood up one knee at a time and carefully walked over to his younger brother. It broke his heart to see how Alan tensed up, so Virgil slowed his strides and re-thought out his plan for when he got close enough to touch his younger brother.

About a foot away from Alan, Virgil held his hands up like he was coaching a frightened animal, staring into those gigantic baby blue eyes as if this were ten years ago and Virgil was comforting a brother that just had a nightmare, not a brother that was nearly… God, he doesn’t even want to think that thought to himself, “Hey. Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Keep it specific, give the shock victim something to focus on. Alan took a moment to register Virgil’s words before taking a deep breath and relaxing ever so slightly, “N-No, he just… startled me. I’ve never…” Alan closed his eyes and shuddered, the awful memory from just minutes ago washing over him like toxic waste.

Virgil’s hesitation was next to none as he stepped forward and practically engulfed his brother in his large frame. If not for Alan, at least for himself, because his own shock was just about kicking in, adrenaline wearing off at the speed of ‘One. Jesus, that was close. Jesus, that was close. If Virgil hadn’t shown up at that moment, just a few seconds later…

After a moment of flinching (that Virgil didn’t notice, thank God), Alan eventually melted into his Virgil’s embrace wholeheartedly. Part of him was still tense, his body still not completely sure that the danger was gone, but boy did that not matter while his older brother was here. Heh, older brothers, Scott was going to freak about this, John probably wouldn’t be much better…

Oh, oh shit-

Virgil couldn’t stop the eyebrow raise, followed by his utter surprise when Alan suddenly shot out of his arms and started waving his own almost like a drowning man would. Virgil was very concerned over why Alan was getting worked up again, but before he could even say ‘what’ in ‘what’s wrong’, Alan practically read his mind.

“Gordon! Virge, oh my God, they have Gor-”

There wasn’t much explanation needed after that.

Except there was a little bit, mainly for Virgil’s sake. Alan’s panic was overtaking a lot of his common sense, and the last thing Virgil was going to let happen was Alan getting near any of these people, not even with 10 feet between them. So with Alan’s promise that he won’t leave Virgil’s side at all, no more than a foot at most, they both hoofed it back to where Alan last saw Gordon.

Virgil was about to put a leash on the kid with how much he was jumping out of his skin, but eventually, they were there, and Virgil regrets his whole just because you left Gordon doesn’t mean he was taken speech he gave to consol Alan, because the spot he led them to had nothing but a semi-ripped up, familiar yellow sash on the ground.

Alan’s grip on Virgil’s arm was better than a tourniquet they’ve ever used. At least Virgil won’t have to worry about him running off anymore.

Lifting his wrist so he could contact everyone else, Virgil could feel the blood drain from his face just like Alan’s.

“International Rescue, we… shit, John, we’ve gotta big problem.”

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #alan tracy #virgil tracy #my post #my fic

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squirrelly831 · 5 years ago

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Child Makes Mom Cry [Jooheon and Changkyun]

I apologize for how long these turned out. Some angst and what not.

Enjoy~~

Jooheon

It was summer vacation for Jackie’s and Jooheon’s kids. They had a babysitter come to their place Monday through Friday at the same time as always before Jackie left for work. However, the babysitter called in sick that day and Jackie was prepared to take the day off from work. She knew it wasn’t a great time as the fashion company she worked at was close to finishing their magazine and they needed Jackie there to help finalize it. She knew she couldn’t call Jooheon as he as working on a track for a solo artist that was close to being finished.

Her 15-year-old daughter, Jiae, convinced her mom to let her babysit her 9-year-old brother, Youngjoo. She insisted he’d just play video games and just hang out at the house. Nothing could go wrong were her daughter’s words.

Deciding to trust her daughter, she handed her some money for the two of them to go out and get food if they wanted. Then, just like that, Jackie left thinking how it would be good to give Jiae some more responsibilities since she was older.

Late afternoon, Jackie dragged her feet into the house, “I’m home!” She noticed the smoke coming from the kitchen before the sound of the alarm and her eyes widened, “KIDS!” She ran inside to see a small fire starting on the oven with Youngjoo right by it. She yanked her son from the oven and went for the fire extinguisher.

Once the fire was out and windows were opened to air out the house, she turned to her son who was standing there with big deer in the headlight eyes, “Baby” she knelt down in front of him and patted his hair. She was trying to calm her racing heart as she tried to keep a steady even voice, “what were you doing at the oven?” She was trying to keep her cool as she spoke to him, she wasn’t mad at him and she didn’t want him thinking she was. Youngjoo, however, looked at his mom and the floodgates broke as he sobbed. “Aww no no mijo” she cooed as she picked him up with a huff. He wrapped his arms and legs around her as he buried his head in her shoulder. “It’s okay” she hummed, “It was scary, huh? But you were such a brave boy for mama.” She cooed as she looked around for Jiae. She kissed the side of his face and rubbed his back. “Let’s go find your sister, yea? She’s probably fast asleep…”

“She’s not home” he cried.

Her heart dropped, “What? What do you mean she’s not home?” She put down her son feeling panicked. Jackie rushed around the house as she called her daughter’s phone.

Youngjoo followed her at her heels, “–friends.”

Jackie stopped and she hung up her phone, “What?”

“Her friends asked her to go to the pool. She told me she’d be back before you got home. She told me to find something to eat.”

Jackie shut her eyes as a list of curse words flooded her mind. “Lord, give me patience because if you give me strength Imma beat her” she said in Spanish as her anger rose. She inhaled a large breath then exhaled and turned to her son with a smile, “What about I order us some food?”

Jiae came home an hour later. She stayed out fearful of her mom’s reaction. She knew when her mom kept calling and texting her, she knew that Youngjoo was home alone. Jiae dreaded the thought of going home though her friends didn’t understand. They didn’t have a Puerto Rican mom. They didn’t know the demon that possessed those women when they were angry.

Youngjoo was picked up by Amanda after Jackie told her what Jiae did. Jackie didn’t need her son to see what was about to go down. Jackie even texted Jooheon about the situation and he told her he’d handle it, but no, Jackie wasn’t going to let that work.

Jiae snuck inside the house and let out a relieved sigh as her mom wasn’t around. She put down her purse and phone as she went to the kitchen for some water. When she entered the room, she stared at the oven area that had been wrapped off and taped by her mom. “What the–”

“Nice, isn’t it?” Jiae let out a scream as her mom suddenly appeared behind her. Jackie’s eyes were red from crying earlier after Youngjoo was picked up. “I came home to find a lovely gift. Wanna know what it was?” Her voice was light and inviting. If it wasn’t for the dark look in her eyes, Jiae would think her mom wasn’t pissed. “Really” she placed her flip-flop that was in her hand on the counter, “Take a guess.”

Jiae’s heart pounded against her chest, “I-I do-don” Jackie slammed the flip-flop on the counter. “I don’t know!” She squeaked out.

“Well I’ll tell you. It was a fire” Jiae’s eyes widened. “Yea, your brother was hungry and his babysitter–which was you. I mean I’m sure it was you, but I could be wrong. WAS GONE!” Jackie held up Jiae’s bag and took her phone and the keys from her bag. She walked up to her daughter and pushed the bag in Jiae’s shaky hands. “If I wasn’t home–” Jackie’s voice caught in her throat. “Not only would this house have gone in smokes, but Youngjoo—” She let out shaky breath as her eyes water. “You’re a selfish girl.” Was all she could manage to say before she stormed out the kitchen past Jooheon who had arrived just minutes before.

Jiae had tears in her eyes, “Dad, you gotta believe me! I’d never would have gone out if I knew this would have happened. I swear!”

Jooheon had a disappointed look on his face as he looked away from his daughter to the covered oven. He said nothing as he swallowed and followed after his wife leaving Jiae to take in the severity of her actions. He heard her break down into tears and he wanted to comfort her, but he knew he couldn’t and he headed to his room.

Changkyun

Changkyun’s and McKenzie’s two boys were polar opposites. Minkyun, 15, was calm and stoic. He wasn’t a huge talkers, but he would stand up for anyone if he found he needed to. However, Junkyun, 12, was impulsive and loud. He was explosive and never thought before he spoke or acted. He wasn’t like that as a child, but once he went to middle school, he changed. He wasn’t above trying to fight someone to prove he was stronger. Even going so far as becoming a bully. He gave them both the most trouble of the two, but whenever they tried to talk to him, he would shut down and never answer.

McKenzie was on a time crunch for her comic’s deadline and was working hard on it when she got a call from her youngest son’s school. “Hello?”

“Hello, this is Principal Choi from Junkyun’s middle school.”

She put her tablet pen down, “What did he do now?” She pressed her hand to her brow preparing for the worse.

Principal Choi cleared his throat, “Well, Mrs. Im, I’m calling because your son Junkyun got into a fight–”

“I am so sorry–”

“With his homeroom teacher.” The color drained from her face as the severity of what her son did came to life. “His teacher will not press charges, but we cannot tolerate a punk like your son in our school.”

Her hand tightened to a fist as she felt disappointed, “I understand. I will pick him up.”

“Yes…” the principal drew out the word as if to figure how to break the news to her. “About that. After he attacked his teacher, he left the school’s premises. Junkyun has been banned from our school. We will proceed with our expulsion procedure.”

“I understand. I am terribly sorry…” She apologized again before she hung up the phone. She heard the front door open and the chime sound. She pushed out of her chair and stormed out of her office space, “Junkyun!” She shouted angrily as she stormed down the stairs and was greeted by her oldest, “Oh, Minkyun, you’re home early?”

Minkyun set down his back, “Yea, because of the seniors’ upcoming exams, we’re being let out early.” He noticed the stressed look on his mom’s face. “What’s wrong, mom?”

She gave him a fake smile and shook her head, “It’s nothing, baby. I’m sure you have a lot of homework, don’t let me keep you.” She kissed his cheek. Just as he went up the stairs, his younger brother walked with a pissed off look. McKenzie’s lips fell as she met her youngest’s eyes. “Living room. Now.”

He scoffed as he walked past her into the living room. Minkyun stopped halfway up the stairs as his mom followed Junkyun into the living room. Junkyun sat on the sofa and McKenzie began her lecture.

“Do you realize you can’t go back to that school, Junkyun? What in the world would possess you to think hitting your teacher was smart?” He said nothing. “Hello, am I suddenly talking to a brick wall?”

“I don’t need this shit. I’m going out” he tsked as he stood up. He walked past his mom with a slight shoulder bump.

McKenzie followed after him, “Excuse me? Junkyun, wait. You need to talk to us. If you need help or if something is wrong–”

“SERIOUSLY, MOM! FUCK OF–” He was cut off with a fist to the jaw stunning him and his mom. He stumbled, but caught himself from falling as he glared at his attacker.

Minkyun stood over him with his arms crossed showing off his muscles. “That’s enough, Jun. You’re being a disrespectful brat. Apologize to mom and go to your room.”

Junkyun tensed as his fists clenched, “You’re not my fucking father, hyung” he growled.

McKenzie noticed the change in between her two sons, “Guys. That’s enough! Minkyun it’s fine, okay?” She raised her voice. Junkyun lunged at his older brother Minkyun who easily dodged his fist. “BOYS!” She screamed, but to no avail as they threw fists at one another. They grabbed hold of one another and Junkyun slammed his brother into the wall behind knocking off a family picture. McKenzie tried to scream for their attention as her panic grew, “Junkyun! Minkyun! STOP! PLEASE!” She looked on in horror as the two punched one another relentlessly. She pressed a hand to her lips as tears streamed from her eyes unsure what to do.

“THAT’S. ENOUGH!”

Everything froze in time. None of them knew when Changkyun entered, but his voice was assertive enough to stop the two boy’s fists mid-swing. He put down his suitcase as he stormed up to his sons in the hallway, “What the fuck is going on here?” He growled at his sons.

“He cursed mom out and disrespected–”

“And you decided that beating the shit out of him would solve anything?” He snarled, “You’re the oldest for a damn reason. Act like it.” His eyes narrowed as he approached his youngest, “I don’t know what is with you, but there is one thing you won’t do in this house and that is disrespect your mother. If you can’t do that, you can get the hell out of our house. Do you understand?” Junkyun’s jaws clenched. “Do you understand, Junkyun?” He repeated.

“Yes sir.”

Changkyun nodded as he backed away from them, “Apologize to your mom and go to your rooms. You’re both grounded a month. Put your phones on the table and get out of my sight.” The two boys apologized to their tearful mom as they made a beeline to their separate rooms.

Once they were out of sight, McKenzie broke down into sobs alerting Changkyun. He rushed to her side and engulfed her in a hug. “I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t do anything” she cried to her husband. “They just kept punching each other--”

Changkyun held her close, “It’s not your fault. You don’t need to get in the middle of those two when it gets violent. Okay, my love?”

Neither of them knew their sons were listening in up the stairs. Both were consumed with guilt for making their mom cry. The two boys glared at one another before they went to their rooms. Junkyun slammed his door where as Minkyun shut his a quietly as possible.

Changkyun lead his wife to the living room and she lay down on the couch to calm down. He stayed with her until she finally got herself up to go back to her study not wanting to be around anyone. Changkyun watched her leave the room before he went to the hallway with a broom and dustpan to clean up the shattered picture frame. He was livid, but he was going to wait until everyone in the house had calmed down before he sat them down to talk it out.

Part I | Part II

Credit to gif owners

Written & revamped by Squirrelly831

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#monsta x #monsta x scenarios #monsta x reactions #kpop #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #jooheon #jooheon scenarios #jooheon reactions #changkyun #changkyun reactions #changkyun scenarios

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miafic · 6 years ago

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i should have never opened the mrs. wood floodgates cause now i have a million questions. did he ever bring her his report cards? did she put them on the fridge with otto’s? i bet she did. when did she start to notice that things at awsten’s house were really bad? did she ever confront awsten’s mom? did otto ever get jealous when they were real little cause he didn’t understand why his mom paid so much attention to awsten? did awsten ever do anything for her for mother’s day? he is gonna now?

this is a mess and it’s so long and so CHEESY im sorry

he did well in history and science when he was younger. not english or math or spelling, but he liked history and science. on the day they brought report cards home, he’d tear off the bad parts and throw them away (i think about him tearing up school stuff a lot tbh). but he’d keep the good parts, so she could only see the parts that he wanted her to.

when otto wasn’t there (in the bathroom, changing clothes, whatever), awsten would shyly bring the scraps to her, and she’d make a big deal about it, giving him a hug and a big kiss and telling him how proud of him she was and what a great job he’d done. he’d put the pieces back in his pocket because he knew otto always did better than he did, but sometimes he would do well on a test, and that would get put up on the fridge (cough, like in MIA, cough).

she could tell right away, but she grew desensitized to it. i think we’d all be guilty of this to some degree - after several months, you get used to a kid wearing the same clothes two days in a row or never having shoes that fit right. and awsten wasn’t acting like anything was wrong because he was five years old and he’d never known anything different.

she knew just from otto talking about awsten that he came from a house that was different than hers. but she was thinking maybe he was living with an underprivileged family. so when she was alone with awsten, she’d start slipping little questions in here and there to try to learn more, and his answers were weird. she figured out that he was alone most of the time, that he was always hungry and in trouble at school, and that he’d have a lot of headaches and a glaring lack of baths, clothes, and sleep. she discovered that this wasn’t neglect but full-on abuse when she coaxed him into a warm bath when he was in first grade and he had five finger-shaped bruises on each of his arms.

she couldn’t ever find awsten’s mom to confront her. if she managed to get a hold of her on the phone, awsten’s mom would just swear at her and then hang up. and then things would be worse for awsten. so she stayed quiet but reported what she could to the police, but nothing was ever really done.

well, she was pretty subtle. a little went a long way with awsten, so it didn’t seem like much to otto when mom would spend a few extra seconds buckling awsten into a car seat so she could touch his cheek and smile at him - because she did the same for otto.

when otto got a little older (first grade), he thought it was weird because not only did other parents not do that, but mom didn’t do it for any of otto’s other friends. he asked about it one night after awsten went home, and she explained carefully to him that while awsten had people to take care of him, they didn’t always do a very good job. so she was trying to make sure he knew that he was cared about.

otto takes after his mom in a lot of ways, but that big heart is the most obvious. he had always loved awsten a whole lot, but he was sure after that to make it a little more obvious.

when the kids were required to make mother’s day cards at school, awsten would act out. he was so little that he didn’t know why he was mad, but he was still mad. he’d tear the pages up then, too, or draw things that would freak the teachers out, like skulls and fire and angry faces. he’d get sent to the counselor’s office, where he’d lie and say he didn’t know why he did it, and it was okay because he’d get a piece of candy on the way out.

in third grade, though, he cooperated and just made a card so the teachers wouldn’t send him to the counselor again. people had started to ask more questions by then, and he’d figured out that it was better to lie and hide everything than it was to cause a scene and draw attention to himself.

he decorated a plain white piece of paper with a drawing of a green and yellow horse. inside it just said a generic, “happy mother’s day. i love you. awsten” and he fully intended to stuff it inside his backpack and then crumple it up and throw it away on the walk home, because on the off chance that his mom was home, he’d never give it to her. she’d be mean about it, and then he’d be sad, so she’d get angry, and then he’d get hurt. he just wanted to get rid of it. it’d be better for everyone.

but then he saw mrs. wood picking up otto, and he thought maybe she’d like it. maybe she’d hug him and say something nice about his horse. after all, he’d spent a long time getting the zig-zags on it just right…

so he went to the woods’ house after school and knocked on the door, and she answered and told him otto was working on homework. and he said something like, that’s okay. i just wanted to give you this. and he was so embarrassed that he couldn’t even look at her, but he held the card out, and she took it, and she read it and crouched down and she was willing herself so firmly not to cry and she thanked him profusely and told him how much she loved it and what a beautiful horse you drew for me, baby, thank you.

and he didn’t know why, but he just stood on the doorstep - head hung, shoulders drooping, big backpack still on his back - and started to cry. he didn’t get it, why he hated this damn holiday so much, but she did. she knew. and she cried too, just a little, and she reached her arms out for him, and he went into them, and she folded him up all safe and warm and, right there outside, she told him how much she loved him and that she knew things were hard at home but she would always, always be there for him if he needed anything.

he asked her why she was crying, and she said because he was sad and that made her sad, too. and he asked why that made her sad. and she said because she loved him. and they were just on the front step, the two of them, hugging each other tightly.

awsten felt like he was too old, like he shouldn’t be needing anyone, especially since his parents always made him do everything for himself. but it just felt so nice… so when she asked him to come inside and stay for dinner, he nodded instead of disappearing like he usually did.

he sat at the counter and watched her while she moved around the kitchen making him a snack, humming along to her crackly little radio. and sitting there, safe, in the clean house with the nice family, he was so angry and so sad and so thankful and so confused and frustrated and happy and heartbroken that he started to cry a second time. and she went over to him and held him again, cheese and crackers forgotten several feet away.

#awsten #otto #mrs. wood #awstenskknight #ask Aly

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porchwood · 7 years ago

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Writing Check-In: Six Months to Strawberry Time, Ch 4

I was hoping to finish this chapter in time for Gadge Day but didn’t manage to get beyond the first scene. :/ However, in the spirit of Gadge Day, I’m posting all that’s written thus far (approx. 2500 words). Still a bit rough around the edges, but here you go. ❤

“Your mother is a witch,” I declare by way of greeting, and none too kindly, and Prim gives much the same answer as my own mother when I expressed the same sentiment about Alyssum Everdeen at breakfast.

“I know,” she answers without batting an eye, her own opening words obligingly set aside to deal with my concern. “Though, to be fair, I think the magic usually happens by accident, and of course she can’t use it on herself. What did she do to you?” she asks with a little smile.

“Dreams,” I reveal tersely. “Vivid ones.”

“Bad ones?” she ventures with what almost passes for concern, but her eyes are dancing.

“I married Gale and had his baby,” I reply, as though such is the stuff of nightmares, and her entire face curls up in a grin.

“And, um…you’re complaining?” she wonders merrily, her sympathy thoroughly abandoned.

“Shut up,” I retort, but without malice, and slip my arm through hers.

“I wonder if she found some old mugwort,” she muses as we head down the street. “I really thought the lozenges were just lavender and honey, but I suppose even that might be enough to crumble your resistance on a subconscious level and open the floodgates, as it were.”

“How do you know about the lozenges?” I ask, looking at her with a start.

“Well, your mom stopped by last night and left with a pouch of them,” she observes. “While your dad was at the bakery, and I know you’ve had a difficult couple of days –”

“I’m sorry!” I blurt, though she’s said nothing to prompt it, or even to indicate that she was aware of my presence in the alley last night. “They left me outside for a few minutes and –”

“I know,” she says, to my surprise, and without the slightest indication of offense. “I heard your parents talking to you after and figured you must have been out there at least part of the time, whether or not you wanted to be. Any insights to share?” she wonders.

“You…you’re not furious with me for eavesdropping?” I sputter, taken aback by her response.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m going to make you tell me all about your dream in a minute,” she promises with gleeful relish. “And then I might pick on you for a bit for running away and hiding from me after school. But we’re courting from our windowsills, for pity’s sake,” she reminds me. “I mean, our conversations are private, but I doubt you’re the first to overhear one.”

“So you’re calling it courting now?” I ask, dropping my voice a little. “Outright and for-real?”

“Not outright,” she hedges. “Not even between ourselves, really, but the word did come up at last night – after you left, probably.”

“And who brought it up?” I wonder, gleeful in my turn, because I have a reasonably good idea how this may have played out, and Prim blushes like a midsummer rose.

“Of course it was him,” she whispers through a sprawling smile. “And it wasn’t like that. He said he can’t court me properly – not the way he wants – for at least two more winters, so I proposed we carry on courting improperly in the meantime.”

“Prim!” I gasp, scandalized.

“I meant after-dinner chocolate at the windows and mysterious ribbons!” she hisses, her blush deepening to crimson as she ducks her face toward my coat sleeve. “You know, secret little things that only we share and understand. Marko got it –”

“Before or after he blushed like a beetroot and told you that wasn’t a good idea?” I guess, grinning now, and her small face disappears into my shoulder.

“He figured it out quickly enough,” is the muffled response. “And I mean, really: who wants improper courtship?”

“I don’t know; what is ‘improper courtship’?” I puzzle impishly, wondering whether it was Prim’s lover or mother who clarified this for her and wishing wildly to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation.

“I know where babies come from, Madge,” she replies, raising a face crinkled in genuine disgust. “Quite literally, as it happens, and how they get there has got to be a means-to-an-end kind of thing because…” Her mouth twists like she’s just tasted something awful. “It’s just so…ick,” she declares, as though that word sums up the business entirely.

I grin, unsurprised by her sentiment – if also, faintly, relieved – and ruffle her capped head, because the mere idea of seeing a boy naked, let alone lying placidly beneath him while he pushes that strange jutting appendage up between my legs, is still every bit as revolting to me as it must be to Prim. “Ick indeed,” I agree heartily, but can’t resist adding, “But you know: you can’t get pregnant from hand-holding or kisses, and nobody has to be naked for that.”

“I’m well aware,” she answers, unamused and refusing to rise to the bait. “But both of those fall under the heading of ‘proper courtship,’ never mind Marko’s in no hurry to do either one with me.”

I wonder if he actually told her this outright or something along those lines, and if that was his way of gently keeping her at arm’s length till she reaches a more acceptable courting age. “You’re already sneaking in hand-holds all over the place,” I reassure her. “So I wouldn’t be too worried – and honestly, I say find out when your mom and his dad had their first kiss and set that as your benchmark.”

“Because that worked out so well for them?” she wonders wryly.

“Well, unless you can see yourself marrying Rory Hawthorne someday,” I tease, “I think the pair of you are safe.”

“Ugh!” she exclaims, just shy of a gagging noise, and I can’t help feeling the slightest bit sorry for her gangly, hopeless admirer. “Anyway, if you’re looking for the next generation of Jack Everdeen, I think Vick or even Gale is a closer match,” she points out. “And as both of them are in love with you, I’m not worried about either one spontaneously singing his way into my heart.”

“But you’re the Everdeen in this equation,” I point out – quickly, hoping to cover up my blush with a witty rejoinder. “Best watch where you sing before you have every man in the Seam sighing and pining at your back door, ribbons in hand.”

“I got Mom’s voice, not Dad’s,” she dismisses, though this means less than she thinks. For a long while after Aunt Maysi died, the only thing that could bring my mother any measure of restful sleep was Alyssum Ebberfeld’s soft husky voice gently crooning a lullaby. “So there’s no danger of birds falling silent to hear me, let alone men,” Prim concludes matter-of-factly. “Now, tell me about your dream. Did it involve proper or improper courtship?” she wonders, her practicality vanishing in the face of fresh mischief.

“Proper, of course,” I answer with mock-affront. “I told you, we got married –”

“And you had his baby,” she reminds me. “Did you get ‘round to making that baby,” she wheedles wickedly, “or did it just show up?”

I blush in spite of myself, abruptly recalling the tryst in the woods – the damp, almost piney scent of wild lavender crushed by the tangle of two ardent bodies – and shake my head furiously in lieu of a reply.

“Oho!” Prim crows triumphantly. “Do tell!”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I lie, “and the baby just showed up, really. One minute there was a toasting and then a bridal bed – that I saw, nothing more,” I add firmly, leaving out the familiar olive-skinned hand brushing away lavender blossoms from between the sheets. “And the next moment I was soaking in a tub, holding this newborn baby and…”

“And?” she prompts breathlessly.

“Crying,” I confess, almost a whisper. “Well, laughing and crying in equal measure.”

Prim stops us in our tracks, her mirth exchanged for a grave gentleness. “Have you ever seen a birth?” she asks softly. “Because that’s pretty much what happens. Once the mother has the baby in her arms – fresh from the womb, not all pretty and clean and bundled up – the joy just comes crashing out. She’s laughing and sobbing all at once, as if there isn’t an expression strong enough for what she’s feeling.”

“That was it exactly,” I whisper and ache for that tiny body cradled to my breast, its thatch of wet black hair scattered with lavender buds.

“Do you want kids, Madge?” she asks, so gently. “I know our mothers never did, for obvious reasons, and Katniss doesn’t either, but I suspect a winter in the woods with a boy who was born to be a father will change that.”

“I never much thought about it,” I admit and marvel inwardly that I haven’t even made it to the woods with the Hawthornes’ stand-in father yet and already I’m dreaming of having his child. “I didn’t – don’t – expect I’ll ever marry, so it’s not something that could ever be a part of my future.”

“And if you happened to fall in love – with, say, a virile young Seam man who wants a family of him own?” she presses, but still so somberly. “Dad wanted us desperately but he loved Mom so much he married her in spite of her never wanting kids. She changed her mind, obviously, several years down the road, but…Gale isn’t that kind of patient.”

“I gathered,” I reply with the faintest of smiles and wonder if Gale would be the type of husband who’s never truly happy unless his wife is pregnant and spends every night diligently endeavoring to start a child inside her. As repellent as the idea of sex still is to me, there’s something oddly endearing about that fierce, angry boy wanting a baby of his own – and the idea of him attempting, night after night, to create one.

I suppose it’s as primal a desire as they come, the urge – no, need – to procreate and forge your own bloodline, but still I can’t hold back a giggle at the image of Gale climbing over me in an old-fashioned nightshirt, gruffly grumbling something along the lines of, Come on, woman, we haven’t got all night! as he impatiently hikes up the hem.

“I’m being entirely serious, you know,” Prim breaks into this daydream with decided consternation. “Acting like there’s nothing whatsoever amusing – or intriguing – about you and Gale getting married and promptly creating a baby, and here you are giggling!”

“I’m sorry!” I claim through bubbles of laughter. “I was just imagining him as a grumpy, impatient husband, determined to plant a baby in his long-suffering wife at every opportunity.”

Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “You’re looking forward to all those ‘opportunities,’ aren’t you?” she exclaims. “I knew it!”

“No!” I insist, because my brain truly can’t think past the nightshirt – I couldn’t visualize the act of intercourse even if I wanted to – but there’s an inexplicable, warm pleasant stirring low in my belly at the prospect of repeatedly making love with Gale, so on some primitive level that I can’t begin to understand, Prim’s right.

“No,” I tell her again, as firmly as I can manage. “I’m not looking forward to – I’m not even thinking about! – being in bed with Gale, or any of the rest of it. I’m going to spend the rest of my life alone, looking after my parents and, like as not, teaching piano lessons.”

“There’s a certain Seam man who might have something to say about that,” she warns mirthfully. “And I’m sure it would be much more acceptable for you to marry him openly than to sneak him in through your bedroom window every night for passionate interludes, till suddenly you’re the pregnant spinster with high lace collars to hide the love-bites.”

“You have a diseased imagination,” I scold, tugging her down the street once more, but it’s impossible to stay angry at, let alone properly chastise, a merrily grinning Prim. “And anyway, how do you know about high collars and love-bites?” I counter sternly.

“I’m in secondary school,” she reminds me, “so I overhear things, and my mother is the town apothecary. Once couples go much beyond love-bites, there’s usually a visit to the Justice Building and then to our place for prenatal advice – not necessarily in that order.”

“Love-bites would be improper courting, then?” I tease, and she rolls her eyes.

“I fail to see the appeal,” she says dryly, then adds with a wink, “But I expect you can tell me all about it in a week or two. Rumor has it that Gale leaves ‘great’ ones, whatever that means.”

I frown. What she said about Gale is hardly a secret, especially around the secondary school, but for the first time it’s affecting me with something sharper than the typical annoyance. I don’t care two pins about the couples propped against the back of the school building devouring each other in grunts and shallow breaths, but suddenly it bothers me that Gale has done this with multiple other girls, enough to garner a reputation as a dispenser of “great” love-bites.

Maybe he really is in love with someone and maybe he’s not, but at least half of those girls must have thought she was it – the one he wants to marry and start that family with – only to be discarded after a few passionate rounds of groping and kisses.

“Sorry,” Prim says, perceiving my distress, if not the reason for it. “I didn't mean to imply that Gale is such a…wastrel.”

But it’s true. His name has been linked with a generous, indefinite handful of girls, all Seam that I can think of, and never for long. Never for real. I can't think of any one ever being acknowledged as his sweetheart, let alone girlfriend. To the best of my recollection, the only girl he’s ever stuck around for any length of time is Katniss, and she’s an incandescent sliver of the moon itself. I can’t quite decide whether she’d burn or freeze his lips off if he ever came close enough to steal a kiss, to say nothing of dispensing a love-bite.

“No, you’re right,” I tell her. “Gale hasn’t exactly been choosy in his kissing partners.”

“Maybe he’s too choosy,” she suggests. “He doesn’t ever keep them around – take them home to meet his family, and the rest – and I know he never laid a finger on Katniss.”

“And how do you know that?” I wonder, though these tidings are as welcome as they are unsurprising.

“Well, he still has all of those fingers, doesn’t he?” she replies with a grin. “Katniss would’ve snapped off the offending one at the base if he ever once tried.”

I return her smile, grateful to have an answer at last, and she goes on, “Don’t misunderstand me: I’m not approving his behavior, just trying to make sense of it. I think he loves someone he doesn’t think he can ever have and so he’s coping with meaningless encounters with any girl he can get.”

“He could’ve had Katniss,” I insist, but Prim shakes her head.

“Wild things need bread and soft words and shyness,” she reminds me. “I’m not sure she even saw him as a male, just another feral creature to share the hunt and the spoils. And you know that’s not who I’m talking about.”

#writing check-in #six months to strawberry time #gadge day #gadge #gale/madge #when the mooniverse

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wayneooverton · 7 years ago

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All the mean, nasty and godawful hateful things people say to me online

Guys, why do people troll on the internet? Why are blogger hate comments a thing? Let this be the philosophical question of the day. Please, god, why? WHY? WHY?

And of all the people, why me? I’m a perfectly innocent little travel blogger over here, just minding my own business. The purpose of this blog is to inspire people to travel, what is so confronting about that? Move along. Why can people be so mean to me online? I don’t get it. I’m lovely, alright?

Just kidding. Sometimes I’m a shit stirrer. I stir the pot on purpose. If I see something I think is wrong, I say it. Also, god did not see fit to gift me with grace or tact. I am really good at regularly putting my foot in my mouth, often publicly. I also don’t know when to back away. And I’m cynical. Is this a recipe for a well-loved image? I’m not quite sure.

At least I’m real, right? Of all my flaws at least I like to think I’m authentic, the only truly honest blogger in a sea of vapid, shallow fools.

Stop talking, Liz. Like right now.

Anyways, it’s no secret, I get mean comments on the regular, so regular in fact that I have been doing annual round ups of the best mean comments I get every single year since 2012. I know I’m shamefully overdue on this post. I completely missed 2016.

2016 was an intense year for me, and when it came down to digging through comments looking for the horrible ones, I just couldn’t bring myself to go down that particular roller coaster. It was also the first year I started to get death threats. I just wasn’t in the mood. Can you forgive me?

Hate comments aren’t a novelty to me anymore, and they haven’t been for a long time. I’ve gotten tens of thousands of comments over the years, with a small percentage of them being ugly, and I’ve learned to just let them slide by in a giant wave of pity – I truly for sorry for anyone that takes the time to hate me so much online. Also, I’m probably laughing at you.

The best hate I got in 2015

The best hate I got in 2014

The best hate I got in 2013

The best hate I got in 2012

Also, I’ve really just stopped paying attention when people troll me; five years of regular trolls has given me armor. I went from being a delicate rose who bruised easily to a goddamn rhino. Go on, try and say something to mean to me. It can hardly be any worse that what I’ve gotten before.

And to be honest, it’s the same shit day in and day out. You’re privileged (yeah I know), you’re entitled (no I am not, thank you), you travel off your daddy’s money (HA, if you only knew…), you’re ugly, you’re fat, you’re stupid, you swear too much, you’re a know it all, you do this why don’t you do that, blah blah blah it never fucking ends.

Honestly, I yearn for the creative insults. I think my trolls have gotten lazy. Where’s the witty banter? The colorful backhanded comments? The passive aggressive DMs? They’ve disappeared into regular grammatically ugly “what a c*nt” and “how is this blog even popular” lazy comments. I mean for fuck’s sakes guys, if you’re gonna come for me, try a little.

But I digress. Back by popular demand, I’ve taken the time to dig through my work and find the best of the best blogger hate comments, the most entertaining, the ugliest, the cruelest, the worst hate comments I get just for you. Because at the end of the day, the only way we can deal with this BS is just to laugh. You’re welcome. Enjoy.

1. The most popular Facebook comment in response to an article about how I built my career in blogging

And if she wasn’t a young blond with a penchant for putting out to old men she’d be working at Officeworks for $15/hr

I want to start an argument about feminism here but just can’t be fucked.

2. And the second most liked comment on the same article

The only thing worse than a human that resembles a vacuous opportunistic sponge is the plethora of parasites that aspire to be just that.

Just so we’re clear, I’m the sponge and you’re the parasite in this allegory.

3. Writing about how Jane Goodall inspires me to be better with conservation

You are not an “activist for saving the planet.” The number of flights you take each year creates more carbon emissions that most of us create in our LIVES. If you actually cared about the environment you would travel solely by bike and public transport with an occasional flight, not dozens of international flights a year. Get a grip.

I mean, fair point. I’d love some tips about biking overseas from the island of New Zealand where I live.

4. I really hate it when people don’t get sarcasm online on my how to cheat on Instagram

Teaching young people that life depends on Instagram. Thats great and people were wondering what was happening to our decaying society. Telling them that their popularity will increase if they sell their sexuality too. Wow what a true feminist you are. Pathetic. The whole millennial generation is going to be morally bankrupt.

I just facepalmed so hard.

5. Speaking of Instagram…

Not to be rude, just honest, but I noticed your photos have extremely low engagement for “168K” followers. I wonder if the companies who pay you notice this.

Guys, I’m literally one of the ONLY people who doesn’t cheat on Instagram! That’s why my engagement isn’t out of this world. But thanks for pointing that out.

6. That one time I wrote that Central Otago is one of the only regions in New Zealand that has four distinct seasons (which is true)

Seriously? The only region in New Zealand that experiences four distinct seasons? You need to travel more and drink less Pinot. I’m not even sure how I got your spam mail, but I live here, not just a FIFO tourist. If you want to trade travel stories, I’m sure you’ll lose.

You can’t make me drink less Pinot!!!! YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!

7. When I wrote a million years ago about things that I hate that people do on airplanes

Sounds like a person who wrote the original article needs more than Ambien. probably could use some Xanax and some Prozac also. when you travel on a plane you know there is also something called other human beings. Get a grip. judging by your photo, You’re not that cute or anything special…..

Hope you find the help you need.

Kisses!

You know, funny story. One time in Bangkok I went to a pharmacy to get some sleeping pills for upcoming long haul flights – sometimes in Southeast Asia I can get strong sleeping pills over the counter. They gave me Xanax, no questions asked. Best flight ever. In fact, imagine if Xanax was provided on all long-haul flights. Who do I need to speak to about this?

8. Any time I provoke the vegans, one of my favorite pastimes

Me: writes thousands of words about wildlife, travel, sustainable tourism practices or about anything really

All of the vegans: You should consider going vegan

Me: but, bacon? So tasty.

All of the vegans: PITCHFORKS AT ATTENTION!

As a close friend used to say, do not negotiate with terrorists, Liz.

9. When I wrote a blog post about how to move to New Zealand as American (if you need some entertaining, go read through the comments) which is a minefield!

It is not your home. even if you wish it was it’s not, it is new zealands home. fuck off to your own home. leave mine alone… just fuck off back to usa and leave nz to be nz. stop telling people how to get here, we don’t want you. most nzers hate americans, you are boring n have no sense of humour, just fuck off bck to usa and leave nzers to our own country, plus u don’t get my point cos u dumb american.if u don’t want to be thought of a american sterotype don’t act like dunb american cunt….you are such a dunb cunt. this is why we hate you.

I can’t look beyond the grammatical and spelling errors in this, honestly I tried, but I can’t.

Yes go ahead pls MOVE out from US we don’t need weak, pathetic, ignorant ppl here who need “safe-spaces” You have been brain washed by fake media like cnn, fox, abc etc for too long

I just can’t.

Congratulations on proving again that liberal thought is shallow and feelings-based. Too much reading making your head hurt?

I’m literally the biggest reader you’ve ever met. Don’t even.

I read the first couple of paragraphs and had to stop. As a Trump supporter, I am offended by your words and will now stop following you. It’s really too bad that you offend some of your followers, here I thought I was following a travel blog. Please do move to NZ, because America will be better off without you!!

It’s ok, I’m ashamed to have had you as a reader.

That response obviously shows why 20 something women shouldn’t even have the right to vote.

*Begins to pull hair out of own head*

Im just trying to save you from having to take depression medication for the rest of your life thats all. What are you on now Zoloft or Prozac?

Neither, unfortunately. I sure could use one after reading this.

10. I appeared in a big NBC Dateline special about American’s moving to New Zealand and man, that opened the floodgates of crazy

Stay out of America you traitor bitch.

This was the first of many comments calling me a traitor.

STAY OUT OF AMERICA YOU BITCH. HOPE A HOBBIT KILLS YOUR SORRY ASS CUNT.

LOL!!!

STAY OUT OF AMERICA YOU BITCH. I hope a sheep kills you and your family you faggot, the USA is the best country ever.

Me: I feel so sorry for you

I feel worse for you, you no good commie bastard. Stay out of my country and fuck off cunt. Fuck you you no life blogger get a real job.

Me: You feel better now?

Yes, I’m living in the US of A #MAGA fuck. Cuck.

Me: Well I feel better living in a place with people nicer than you. And I have healthcare. And I can spell.

BOOM! How’d they do? What’s the worst thing anyone has said to you online? Do you get trolled? How do you cope? Spill!

The post All the mean, nasty and godawful hateful things people say to me online appeared first on Young Adventuress.

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