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dabis-devil · 5 years ago

Note

Could you pretty please do Shinso, Dabi, Overhaul, Kirishima, Shiggy, Bakugo and Tamaki with an S/O with is a ballet dancer and looks fragile but can actually kick ass? Sorry for the long ask but I just really adore you’re stuff!!!!!

Pretty Poison

Aw, thank you anon! Okay, I'd just like to apologize for holding off on my asks. I've seen busy and not feeling well lately, but I'm getting to my requests now! Love you all 🖤

Shinsou Hitoshi

Shinsou is an observational guy

He figured you weren't as innocent as you looked before you proved him right

All of which he figured out with distance.

When set to spar together, he was avoiding all of your agile moves, each one of your attacks

You were pressed to do give it your 100%

With a swing, you attempted to go for his neck with your fist, the purple haired man catching your fist.

He tried to get a blow at your torso, you swatted his fist.

when you tried a strike with the other, he caught that one too.

His leg scooped in the back of your knees, the two of you toppling to the ground.

Toshi is a good boi, he made sure you wouldn't get hurt before he went through with such a calculated move

“ oh kitten- ” he chuckled, tired eyes lock in onto your own. “ nobody expects this of you. . Only fools will underestimate you. ” his tone was eerie

You used your propped up knee to push yourself over. Turning the tables, Toshi on bottom now. “ nice to know. ” you mumbled with a savage smile.

Next thing you know you were helping each other up and leaving the training grounds.

Its when you and Shinsou went on your first date that he learned you were a dancer.

He didn't seem too phased honestly, but he thought it was cool!

“ Can I go to your next recital? ” he asked, thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

You said yes

Before the start of the recital, your eyes wandered endlessly around the stadium.

' where is he? ' your lips curling into a frown.

Maybe he decided he didn't care?

Little did you know, he was in the front row. Just dressed in a suit. . Classy Shinsou is rare

When you leaped across the stage, his large purple orbs followed your angelic form like a puppy eyeing a treat.

He isn't one to pump you up with compliments, but when you finally realized he was staring with a strong force of admiration, that said all.

He would stand and applaud afterward, meeting you in the back room for a bland congratulations and soft hug.

He'll be at every single recital

Every. One.

Dabi

Your innocence was cute, don't get him wrong

But his goal was to corrupt you.

He would place wondering hands on your body, expecting you to become a shell of a human and color to drain from your face

Instead your expression turned playful as you prompted him

Sinful things probably followed

And that's how he learned you werent fragile

With that in mind, this man had nO control

You already know a relationship with him entails dirtiness to keep it sPiCy

And I kid you not, your gracefulness drives him over the edge

Your movement was so controlled it's just- *chefs kiss*

The part of the town the compound was in definitely wasn't a good part of town

So you got harrased :((

“ hey pretty lady, ” a drunk man cooed, his large and sweaty hands running down your arm. “ come with me to the back. . ” he smiled and roughly tugged at your arm.

You could have easily shown this man a piece of your mind. The ghastly shrieks that filled the air stopped you though.

Dabi melted his face off, then left with you like nothing happened.

This why people don't mess with you anymore

Again, this is what makes the two of you a good team. He has your back, you have his, but you can both take care of yourselves.

He didn't really care to know you danced

It's just a hobby, when should he care? Do what you want.

If you dragged him off to recitals or anything don't be surprised if you see him playing on his phone or otherwise not paying attention.

Gives 0 fucks.

If for any reason he is watching

Probably because he think you look sexy.

Maybe it's the outfit, maybe it the way your body flows, who knows?

If you come to him bothered that he doesn't like your dancing, he will either

reassure you that he thinks you look incredibly sexy when you dance, and try to pay a little more attention to your routines

No promises^

Brush off your feelings and move on

Really isn't his cup of tea but A for effort

Bonus: he's asked you to dance on/for him

You're a dancer, of course you know how to lap dance. Of CoUrSe.

Idiot

“ doll, why don't you come show me some of those moves? ” he asks cheekily, already leading you back to the bedroom.

You still did. And you did well. So that's a win on his part-

Overhaul

Kai could appreciate your dancing, there was some sort of elegance in it.

The way your body moved from one figure to another just had his eyes drawn to you like magnets.

The fact that he kidnapped you for entertainment was besides the point

Well initially

You were given the option to leave, but you didn't.

Same offer does NOT apply now that you made your choice

The reason you were taken is for your doe eyes and soulful smile

You put up a damn good fight

But in the end you were being jumped by a few gang members.

Not to mention your escape attempts?

So thought out, and you came this close to busting out of the secret door each time.

Kai’s eyes burned holes hrough your skull when you were restrained to your bed.

“ love, why would you try to leave me? You know bad things could happen. . ” his tone sent goosebumps down your back

He's just possessive

Other than that, you can pretty much do what you want

So long as you stay in base

He turned a room into a dance studio for you

That's just how he shows affection.

he wants to sit and watch you dance until your knees buckle.

You bet your ass he will too.

“ where are you going? ” his eye brows knitted. “ I'm not done watching. ” he growled lowly, as you returned to your craft with a pout.

But that's fine,,,,

Even though he's not a huge fan of touching you

He gives the best massages.

(I'm actually so so sorry for this one, I haven't written Kai and oh my gOd I need to fix this characterization)

Eijiro Kirishima

This beautiful rock man

He thinks you are so adorable.

Literally precious okay, even before romantic ties developed

But when you become a badass out of nowhere, he's kinda stunned

You turned to Mineta and told him off for objectifying you, finishing that confrontation with a kick right to his crotch.

The grape boy wheezed and began to cry, but you walked off unbothered.

Of course Kiri, who had been on his way to save you from his perverted classmate, was like- “ huh?? ”

You being anything but reserved was a new emotion.

He didn't mind of course, he was excited to learn more about you.

And when he learns you're a dancer?

Oh boy.

Eiji supports you. Without a question!

And that's on being manly.

He shows up with roses to every single recital you have, dressed in fine attire, and will be the loudest person in the crowd.

“ WOoOOo!! YOU DID AMAZING Y/N! I LOVE YOUU!! ” He shouted from the top of his lungs.

Actually the first time he said I love you

Lowkey has good moves himself

You'll see that when he's dancing around the dorms to some cheesy music denki or Mina played

If you need help with a move he will put sweat, blood, and tears into perfecting it with you.

He literally won't shut up about you

When he's with his friends?

“ she's so beautiful! You should see her dance too! ” he gushed

Family?

“ y/n is so amazing. . (More babbles about you) ”

A wall?

“ I love y/n so much- ”

Just love him back okay

Tomura Shigaraki

This crusty man has his head in the game and all, but he totally swept you to the side.

He wants things to be blunt and direct

So when you were over there looking like a pure angel he just thought you were

As apart of the liberation front, he expected you to be there for covert missions, and not throw yourself into battle

But when you were over here taking out three heroes simultaneously??

It dawned on him that you were so much more useful.

It had been a late night and Shigs couldn't sleep, so he planned to hang out with you.

Your light shone under the crack of your door, prompting him to ask for your company

He placed a soft knock on your door to which there was no reply.

Instead, the melody of soft classical tunes drifted to his ears. The door creaked open, allowing the blue haired man a peak of insight as to what you were doing.

He saw your figure parading around the room in small leaps, harmonious twirls, and gentle hand movements.

His crimson eyes widened at what he saw. Not only did he realize how beautiful you are, but you were so soothing to watch?

For a little while he will beat around the bush

“ y/n, what were you up to last night? ” he asked, sounding as innocent as a mere child. “ hmm? ” his hands weaved together under his chin, leg swing in under his barstool.

Like when you already know something but you ask somebody anyways just to see what they would say yknow

He would make this one of his favorite things to do, watch you dance.

Over time you caught him staring through your door, and you weren't exactly happy about it

“ tomura! ” you squeaked, catching a glimpse of his florescent red orbs.

You raced over to the door, pausing your music with a fast tap to the pad of your phone.

“ why were you watching me? ” you frowned at your boyfriend, your shoulders building tense.

“ y/n. . ” he mumbled, hand searching for his agitated neck. “ I just couldn't look away. ”

Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo did not underestimate your abilities. Ever.

From his experiences, he knows not to judge a person's abilities until you get a taste of what they can do.

He tried so hard to manipulate you into using your quirk, or just not being the peaceful person you came off as.

He faaaaailed

When you got to knew him better, you didn't hesitate to mop the floor with him.

He's impressed by your effort, so points there

He definitely liked your soft persona, on the contrary to his.

He won't tell you that though.

The closer you two got, the more he would step in to defend you and stick by your side.

The one time you snapped on somebody, he was left shaking in his boots.

He hasn't seen you behave like that. . He liked it 😏

Now don't get me wrong-

Baku didn't care for your dancing.

He didn't give a single fuck, okay

But whenever he actually saw your graceful dances on stage???

Consider him your biggest fan

But you wouldn't ever find that out. At least he thoughts so.

“ I have another recital tonig- ” you were cut off by an irritated Baku.

“ if you want me to go, just ask, dumbass! Stop whining. ” he snapped, leaving you blinking and dumbstruck

go off lord explosion murder-

He's in the front row just sitting there like

W O W

You already know he'll praise you for your preformance, whether those compliment were backhanded or of pure intent.

And if anybody dare thinks about down talking your dancing? They will be ripped. ..He would tear them apart with him bare hands. no cap.

If you absolutely amaze him, you will get the one in a lifetime chance to watch him stand up and scream your name with a proud grin, something along the lines of-

“ LOOK AT Y/N! (pronoun)'S DOING FUCKING AMAZING, JUST FUCKING LOOK AT MY BABY- ” his hand directed towards you, and you couldn't help but burn a shade of deep rose.

Tamaki Amajiki

Before you two were in a relationship, you had him fooled.

Like Tamaki, you look like a cinnamon roll, but can murder somebody.

You are commonly underestimated, which gives you the upper hand. A lot.

Tamaki taught you how to use that

Training with him was just so sweet.

He'd be scared to hurt you though

Let's add to the fact that since you like like an easy target, you would probably get messed with.

He would be the first to step in and protect you

Despite the fact his hands are shaking, and he stutters a mess.

“ my suneater. . My hero. ” you planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

Here lies Tamaki Amajiki, Rest In Peace

Don't even get me started on your dancing.

He loves it! Absolutely melts his heart.

When he watches you at recitals, rehearsals, maybe even in the dorms, he feels the depth of your movement.

He becomes a flustered mess in the distance,,,,

“ I can't believe thats my bunny, she's doing so well! ” he quietly cooed from the audience.

He will not miss any of your recitals. Unless it's an emergency.

Even then, get prepared for massive cuddles when he gets back.

He'll feel guilty about not being there, he's more upset than you are.

“ Tama it's fine- ” you chuckled softly, cradling your boyfriend in a hug.

“ are you sure bunny? I'm sure you did amazing, and I missed it! ” he whined, fighting the urge to plant his face onto a wall and never look back.

Other than tons of extra love after a missed performance, he will without a doubt dress fancy and bring you a bouquet and some little gifts.

100/10 will pepper you with compliments

Honestly he's an angel

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linkspooky · 5 years ago

Photo

ozone hawks wants to shelter jin from the coming storm of the hero invasion and know he’ll be safe when it’s over, even though he’s the one putting him in the most danger // writing for the jinkei bang written for this art by @comradetodoroki

Storms have always put me at ease.

There’s something about the way they ravage our ridiculous world and wash it away like so much sludge.

🌩️

He pulled his hands back through feathered hair. He smoothed it, only for it to pop back up ruffled again. It’s out of character. It’s anxious behavior. Hawks needed to be smooth. Water had to roll off of him and nothing could stick to him otherwise he would get weighed down. He’s just talking. Someone is talking. It’s amazing how his mouth is like a machine. He can hear the words come out and he doesn’t have to think too hard about them because he’s been trained at talking to others.

But this guy. Jin. He’s easier to talk to than most.

“It’s pretty dumb for a bird to be afraid of heights.” “Yeah, yeah. It’s bird brained.” “…You are my favorite person for saying that.”

Hawks doesn’t bear his soul, that sort of requires having a soul and a soul is another thing that would weigh him down. Jin asked him what his fear was, actually Jin talked about his fears. It turns out Jin is afraid of almost everything.

Jin, Jin, he’s calling him Jin now. It’s Twice. Hawks doesn’t know if he’s scared of anything, but then Jin stared at him with those big eyes and he realized he was supposed to say something and ‘heights’ was the first thing that came out of his mouth. It’s not exactly heights, he can be in high places just fine. It’s the idea of falling. It’s out of his control, the falling. He doesn’t even mind the idea of hitting the ground. Just, smashing, and leaving a carcass of feathers, and fragile bones shattered. It’s the idea of falling forever unable to control his trajectory, utterly helpless. Falling at terminal velocity. The air doesn’t leave your lungs like you’d expect it to. And even though you’re surrounded by nothing but air, you’re suffocating, drowning in the blue sky. No, maybe it was the sky that scared him.

Everyone else looked up at the sky and saw freedom. It was so liberating. The sky seemed endless to Hawks. But there was nothing to see. Jin suddenly threw his arms around him from behind, looping them on his shoulder. Jin- Twice was so touchy feely, and so heavy, almost too heavy as he leaned his entire body weight on Hawks. Hawks stumbled forward and hit his face against the glass of the window in the room the two of them used as a hangout. “Let’s go outside! No, I want to stay in my room forever. I’m never going to be a corporate slave, I’ll be a NEET like Spinner!” Twice tended to have two minds about everything, but Hawks was a good listener. “We can’t go out in full costume. People will see us.” Hawks wondered if he was really listening. Birds have a habit called mirroring. They can imitate the noises humans make with their mouths, they can say words, but it’s not like the words carry any real meaning behind them. Just a hollow imitation. He is a mirror that Jin looks into and sees a friend. Jin suddenly has a burst of energy and shakes Hawks by the shoulders. Hawks was shaken. His head bobbed back and forth. “Please, please, please. I’m not going to beg you.”

“Look, at least one of us has to have common sense.” “And it’s me, right? Because I’m just a normal guy. I’m just your friendly neighborhood Jin.”

“Yeah, totally.” Hawks doesn’t want to be mean. “You don’t want to be seen with me, is that it? Well, I’m too cool for you anyway.” Jin had stopped shaking him now, and Hawks kind of wished he would have kept at it. Now that they’ve both stopped, Jin’s hands were on his shoulders. His large hands, capable of holding so much. And Jin stared into his eyes. Jin is wearing a mask and yet his every feeling is so obvious. The emotions in those eyes… heavy. Heavier than the whole sky, like the sky’s weight bearing down on him, crushing him.

“Yeah man, you’re way out of my league. The cool kids never let me hang out with them in high school. That’s why I became a villain.” Actually, he never even went to high school. “But that’s not it. It’s going to storm soon.” “Huh? So what?” “Can’t fly if my feathers get wet.” “Have Dabi dry them off for you!”

“Um, thanks but no thanks.” “How do you know it’s storming anyway?”

“I can feel it in my bones,” Hawks chirped. He can. His bones are light and hollow so he can fly, and when he was with Jin he felt a sort of empty pang in them. A feeling that made his toes curl, and his fingernails dig so deep into his palms that he left red welts. “Are you an old man?” “Something like that…” Hawks muttered. He certainly wasn’t a kid. He never was. “If we don’t go outside right now, I’ll cry. Is that what you want? You want me to cry? You meanie, big bully, villain, fiend! All of my friends will beat you up!” Hawks opened his mouth. He tasted only air. He dry swallowed. Twice smiled so earnestly with his whole face, in a way that it couldn’t be a lie. For some reason the thought of making him cry at this moment cut him. It peeled back all the layers, scars, skins, feathers, bone. Hawks was caught completely offguard. Bad, bad, bad. He was the one manipulating Jin, not the other way around. He couldn’t be moved by this he must stay firmly rooted to the ground. He closed his eyes and put on a smile, his smile so fake compared to Jin’s. “Awe man, I can’t say no to you, huh?”

🌩️

“This is the best day ever. This is the worst day ever! I can’t believe it rained on our parade. Jin, you stupid idiot, who would ever throw you a parade?”

The pounding of raining, the rolling of thunder, both of them beat against Hawks relentlessly. The two of them stranded on a park bench. The noise of the storm washed away everything else, and it was like the two of them were the only ones there. If this storm was some kind of apocalyptic hurricane that washed away everything would and the two of them were the only ones left. If nobody was watching, under the cover of the noise of the storm, could he be his true self in front of Twice? Probably not. Anyway, enough with the deep thoughts bird boy. They walked for a little bit before it suddenly started to storm. The entire time Hawks studied Jin’s hand as if he was trying to comprehend the shape of it. He even tried to reach for it once, only to grasp at empty air when Jin suddenly got distracted by it and turned around. “Hey, a bird! A bird! Look at the stupid feathery asshole! You can talk with birds, right?” “God, I wish…” Hawks stared at the place where Jin’s hand was supposed to be with melancholy, but thought it was probably a bad idea in the first place. Then suddenly, Jin noticed and grabbed his hand. He made it seem so simple. Touching other people, being close to other people. Then the rain started, and the two of them were on the bench and Jin freaked out. He raised his hands up in the air, and played nice guy to calm Jin down. “Hey, hey, I don’t really mind.” “You should mind! You should care a little bit. You’re so careless.” Oh no, Jin was agreeing with himself for once. Hawks wondered what he had done. He could read the emotions on his face, but he didn’t really get what other people felt. He just knew he probably felt less than them, he was lighter, more hollow. “Oh come on, I care as much as the next guy.” That was a lie. He lied without showing anything.

Hawks fidgeted. Sitting still was, hard, difficult. And Jin looked at him so intensely, in a way he wasn’t used to being looked at. He hated being scrutinized, was Jin suspicious? No maybe he just hated being seen. “You don’t care about yourself at all!” “What? We’re talking about me? Don’t I talk about myself enough? I’m a little bit self-obsessed. You know, pretty bird, pretty bird.” Hawks cooed. “You looked so upset! So I tried taking you out to cheer you up, but then I screwed it up and it started raining, and you don’t even care at all.”

“Ah, I was sad?” Hawks head tilted, as if he might comprehend better by looking at Jin from a slightly different angle. “Hey, hey, no reason to be upset. Nothing bad is going to happen.” Lots of bad things are going to happen very soon. Hawks wing moved. Even though he was sure he did not give it the command. His wing moved on his own, it stretched into the sky and curled around Twice serving as an umbrella. His feathers stretched as far apart from each other as possible. He did not want a single drop of rain to touch Twice. He wanted Twice to stop shivering with the chill of rain.

How many people had he saved? Countless. Thousands, probably. He did it without thinking. He had complete confidence in himself. Then, why was he so afraid that he might not be able to save this one person. That he could do nothing to protect him from the coming storm. The people he saved were always faceless. To be honest, he was afraid of looking them in the eye. Even when they thanked him, he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t do anything special. He had never wanted to save one person so much. And he might not. He might let him fall. Twice’s words are gravity. They drag him back from where Hawks is always floating. “You’re not understanding me. It’s my fault.” “No, you’re not, it’s fine.” “Stop saying it’s fine. Liar, liar, pants on fire. Dabi’s going to light your pants on fire, then you’ll just be standing there without any pants and everyone will laugh. Liar, stupid, I hate you. I don’t hate you.”

Twice suddenly grabs his head. A piercing headache. A splitting headache. Hawks does not know what to do so he simply floats there, his hands just hanging there in the air unable to grab anything.

“This is getting in the way.” Twice grabbed at his mask. He clawed it for a moment. It’s like he’s trying to scratch the skin off of his face. Hawks felt an immediate sense of danger. Fearful. Twice is broken. He broke into jagged edges. Glass that can cut and sink deep into you. He pulled his mask off slowly.

“Hey, you should put that back on.” Hawks said, genuine concern creeping into his voice. He realized, he didn’t care about blowing the mission, he didn’t care about the hoops he’d have to jump through to explain being seen with league of villains Twice in public. He just doesn’t want to see Twice break in two pieces in front of him.

“It’s fine, I won’t break apart if you’re here.” But I’m not here. “Hawks, I want to meet you…” “But, I’m right here?” “I know. What I mean is. I just want to meet you.”

The mask was getting in the way. Of what? Hawks perched on the bench, his knees drawn up to his chest, huddling like a child. He made himself look as small as possible. A nesting instinct. He wanted to be cozy. He wanted to be comfortable. To feel like he belonged somewhere. Jin, sitting on the other side of the bench. Hawks’ wings outstretched, the two of them udnerneath the same unmbrella. Jin’s hair, bleached white by stress. A large scar running down the center of his forehead. A perpetual five o clock shadow. A latex suit that covered his whole body, and the muscles which bulged underneath. He could see the way they shifted as his body moved and studied it in close detail. There was something about the way he was shaped that made him look comfortable to lean against. His toes tap awkward on the ground, because Twice is as bad at sitting still as Hawks is. The rain was so loud, and even louder is Jin’s breathing, and his heartbeat, and Hawks’ senses were finely tuned to both. Jin’s shoulders were broad. Hawks’ were concave and narrow. They were going to break. It was heavy, too heavy. Heavy like gravity. He noticed finally that Jin was drifting towards him. Jin was falling. Hawks has to look at him directly, what good is the terrifying draw of gravity unless you know what you’re facing. Jin’s lips get closer, and Hawks’ imagines what it would be like to be tickled by the unshaven scruff on Jin’s chin. There are so many details that make up Jin, and Hawks’ is just not there, he is not present, he is observing the scene from behind a pair of eyes but he can’t be there with Jin. He can never be there with anyone.

“You wouldn’t like me,” He finally murmured. Hawks said, trying to get what’s happening to stop. “How come?” “Because I’ve met him. I don’t like him.” “I used to not like me either, but even when you don’t like yourself there are people that will like you.” Jin probably didn’t like him. Jin is just a person who would be kind to anybody. All Hawks needed to do was look a little pathetic and Jin pitied him. That was all this was. He was nothing special to Jin. He was nobody special. He had been told that enough times. If he died, if he fell out of the sky what would happen? The hero rankings would shift a little bit and that would be all. There were plenty of people that used him but no one really needed him. Jin gets closer and his lips pull back. Hawks’ contemplated what it would be like to be struck by lightning. A hot stinging pain, every single muscle in your body tenses, and locks. A whiteness you see behind your eyeballs. You spend an eternal moment trapped, your brain sending signals but your body not listening to them, you tingle because your brain can’t comprehend the intensity of what you’re feeling.

Is it painful? That’s not it, it’s a sensation that’s impossible to describe. Then you wake up after it’s done, and there’s a scar left in your skin. The point of contact between his land twice’s lips felt like they were burning as Twice pulled away, or maybe that was just his imagination. The acrid smell surrounded him. His nostrils wee full of ozone. His brain was full of fear. The entire sky is contained in Jin’s eyes for that brief moment. There’s a queasy feeling inside of him, dizzying, and it’s the first time he’s ever felt the joy of vertigo. He doesn’t know where he is or how he feels and it’s unbelievably pleasant. Jin is the entire sky. Jin would never know how much Hawks wanted to throw himself into the arms of that vast emptiness. Hawks’ head is empty. He’s empty. But he’s not. He’s filled with secrets, and lies. When he wants to think about nothing more than Jin and the smell of ozones, a thought broke through. It’s like a crack in the mirror. Hawks immediately rocked back. You lied to him. Jin looks like he did something wrong. Hawks wants to tell him he’s done nothing wrong but that’s not true, he’s a criminal, a murderer. A good kisser, but with blood on his lips. Hawks’ hands flew in the air. “I-I’m just shy. I’m a shy bird.” He pulled the collar of his fur jacket all the way up to just below his nose to conceal the expression on his face.

Hawks looked at the scar that cut cleanly across Jin’s forehead. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the thought. Jin who had given him so much, and Hawks would only give him scars in return. His hands, his lips. There would be lines carved on his skin wherever he touched. Hawks’ and Twice the fact that they met was an incredibly unlikely event like a lightning strike, and just like a lightning strike it never should have happened. It was luck, it was bad luck. He would mark him worse than any lightning strike.The places where he had once caressed so sweetly would only burn now. He should have smelled the ozone ahead of time. He should have seen the storm coming. But it’s too late now, and he’s stuck here with Jin, and he’s completely hopeless, and he can’t fly in the middle of a storm the wind will whip at him back and forth and the water will soak him, and chill him down all the way to the bone. Hawks finally gasped for air. Ozone in his lungs he had forgotten to breathe.” “Twice.” “Jin, you can call me Jin. I always call you by your first name.”

“…What do you think my full name is?” “Hawks Birdman?” Hawks wanted to laugh but he couldn’t. He was someone who could not even smile correctly. “Wait, wait, wait, is that not your real name? Oh shit, oh shit, I’m so dumb. I’m so dumb.” Jin rocked back and forth and Hawks was completely still. He finally looked Hawks in the eye again. “W-we don’t have to kiss ever again if you don’t want to. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” Why was he the one apologizing? Why was Jin apologizing? “It’s really hard to tell what you like and don’t like sometimes. If I got something wrong, I’m sorry because I’m stupid, and I don’t think, but ummm…can I call you by your real name?” “One day…” “When?” “When the storm ends.” Hawks said. Everything he said so far to Jin was a lie, and that might also be a lie. But he didn’t want it to be.

#jinkei #jinkeiminibang #twicehawks #hawkstwice #twice #hawks #jin bubaigawara #takami keigo #bnha #bnha fic #zeldi drabbles tag #theres a ff7 reference in this

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vs-redemption · 4 years ago

Text

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare. (Ch 18)

Chapter Eighteen: Those Words (HawksxGN!Reader)

Plot summary: You thought your hands were full as a regular quirk geneticist, but then you meet Hawks and things get even more exciting!

Warnings:

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

Tag List: @gayforkeigo @marshmallow-witch @redflannel @toyo-shiro @elsasshole @astronomyturtle

Next Chapter : Chapter Guide

“Hey, I brought over a book I want you to check out.”

You turn away from the food you were cooking to raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend who was standing behind you holding a decent sized hard cover book with ‘Meta Liberation War’ printed across the cover. Hawks had an apologetic look on his face, but you weren’t surprised he was doing this. Staging the murder of Best Jeanist had definitely earned him points with the league of villains, but now he had to continue winning their trust by doing everything he could to prove he believed in the ideals they’d adopted after merging with the liberation army in Deika city. It would look strange if he never brought up the topic he was pretending to be so passionate about with the person he was dating. You let out a sigh, knowing you had to play along.

“Isn’t that book a little outdated?” you ask while turning back to the stove. “Plus, I’m pretty sure the guy that wrote it ended up in prison.” You decided not to jump on board right away so that Hawks would have the chance to convince you. It would help the villains trust him even more if they heard how much he understood and supported the cause.

“The fact that he was arrested is all the more reason to check it out,” Hawks comes up behind you to see what you were making. He hardly got to see you anymore now that he spent half his time in another city with the league of villains, who were now calling themselves the paranormal liberation front. It made communicating very difficult since there were limits to what you could tell each other over phone or text. You both had to make do with seeing each other for an hour or so at a time when you could find time between his hero duties and spy duties. “He was an advocate for quirk liberation back when people first started getting powers and governments around the world were fighting to suppress the people’s freedom to use those powers.”

“He was an advocate for chaos,” you correct him calmly. “There’s a huge difference between rallying people together to protest laws you don’t agree with and scaring people into listening by committing acts of terrorism.”

“That’s simplifying the story just a bit, don’t you think?” Hawks begins sending his feathers around the kitchen to get out any plates and utensils you both would need. “Our quirks are a part of who we are, and putting so many rules and regulations on them is a form of repression.”

“I’d hardly say anyone is being repressed,” you retort with a laugh. “We’re allowed to use our quirks as it suits us in our careers and in the privacy of our homes. It would be much worse, for example, if someone was forbidden to use the extra set of arms they were born with or something just because most other people only have two. I don’t think it’s unfair to restrict the use of quirks in public though.”

“Why do you say that?” Hawks asks curiously as you both grab some dinner and head over to the small table to eat. You really wished you could talk about something else in the limited time you had with your boyfriend, but it was important to act like you had no idea what he was up to with the villains.

“Well, I mean, think about it Bird-kun,” you can’t help but smile at the way he perks up when you use the stupid little nickname, “you spent so many years training your quirk just so that you’d be able to use it safely and effectively around other people. Can you imagine if a person without your control tried sending feathers out everywhere like you do and stabbed someone by mistake or blocked someone’s vision and caused an accident? And that’s just one example. If you imagine a whole community of people using their quirks all willy-nilly like that, you can start to see how things would get out of control.”

“The idea isn’t to create a world like that,” Hawks continues his spiel, “it’s about allowing people the chance to use their quirks to defend themselves or help others instead of having to rely on heroes all the time.”

You let out a sigh, wanting to put this conversation to rest now so that you both could enjoy the rest of your dinner like a normal couple. “Look, It isn’t like I think the system we have now is perfect or anything,” you tell him honestly. “And I won’t claim that I have any better ideas. I’m a scientist, after all. My area of expertise is quirk genetics not quirk regulation.”

“I know, and that’s fine,” Hawks promises. “But, can you at least give the book a shot?” He gives you puppy eyes from across the table. “For me?”

“Magic face.” You mutter under your breath while rolling your eyes dramatically. “Fine! I’ll read it if it means that much to you. You’re lucky I love you.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Hawks asks, looking genuinely taken aback to hear you say something like that.

“Huh?” You tilt your head, “I said you’re lucky I love you.” You had been trying to tease him but a look of vulnerability crosses over his face as he processes your comment. It was the first time you’d said those words to him, but you really hadn’t expected them to trip him up like that. Surely it couldn’t be that much of a surprise. Suddenly, Hawks leans forward and cups his hand around his ear with a small smile.

“I heard the first part,” he says, “But one more time… I’m lucky what?”

“I love you.” You decide not to make him work for it since it obviously meant more to him than you realized to hear how you felt. You hoped he didn’t feel strange that you’d thrown something so real into a fake conversation. By the way the feathers on his wings fluffed up you assumed not.

“Nobody has ever said that to me before,” He lets out an awkward laugh while leaning back in his seat.

“What?” You had a hard time believing him until you remembered that he hadn’t seen his family since he was taken in by the hero training facility he’d told you about. He’d also mentioned never having any real friends. Perhaps he wasn’t joking, and that made you feel kind of sad.

“Well, I’ve heard fans say that kind of stuff before,” Hawks admits with a shrug, “But I don’t think they meant it the way you do. You do mean it that way, right?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t,” You promise while reaching across the table to cover his hand with yours. He seemed satisfied with that and his vulnerable energy faded away.

“That’s good,” He grins happily while interlacing your fingers, “Because I love you too!”

“Glad to hear it,” you smile back. The two of you finish up the food and clean up just in time for Hawks to have to take off again. Neither one of you wanted to part ways, but hopefully things wouldn’t have to be this way for too much longer. Hawks was gathering as much information as he could about the internal structure of the Paranormal Liberation Front, and you were spending every moment you could trying to figure out what Dr. Garaki was planning with All For One’s DNA. Hopefully once those pieces fell into place, the heroes could be notified about what was happening so that they could stop the villains before things got even worse.

“Don’t forget to read that book,” Hawks tells you, staying true to his role.

“Yeah, yeah,” you pull him into a kiss so that you wouldn’t have to talk about that subject any longer. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

“I know,” He sighs in disappointment. “But you know I can’t skip my night patrols. That’s when all the really scary guys come out to play.”

“Well, let’s just hope they play nice,” you let out a dry laugh, “I worry about you.”

“Aw,” Hawks coos your name and pulls you into a hug. You prolong the good-bye as long as you can, but eventually he does have to leave. Once you’re alone in your apartment you send a glare over to the book Hawks had left on your kitchen counter. You had already read it cover to cover and knew it was filled with the ramblings of a dangerous extremist who had no qualms about using people to fight and die for his fanatical ideas. If there were problems in society, there were plenty of reasonable ways to find a solution. All-out war, in your opinion, was not one of them.

#Keigo Takami x Reader #Hawks x Reader #Bnha x reader #mha x reader #keigo takami #hawks #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my writing

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makeste · 6 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 223: Let Me Give You a Hand

Previously on BnHA: Tomura had a flashback to when he first met All for One. AFO told him he’d spontaneously developed a rare quirk which led to him accidentally killing his entire family and his adorable dog. Baby Tenko was able to recall “fragmented images” of the incident but curiously has no clear memories of his life beforehand. But I’m sure AFO isn’t lying, him being such a stand up guy with no obvious ulterior motives here. Anyway so we also found out that the hands are supposedly all that’s left of Tomura’s family, if anyone actually buys that. And Ujiko is the one that made them. Ujiko, as it turns out, doesn’t really plan to withhold the Noumus and everything from Tomura, but he does want Tomura to prove he’s ready to handle them, and to do that he wants him to go back and win over Gigantomachia. Tomura was all “okay fine” and so Ujiko teleported him back along with the rest of the Shigaraki Squad, except for Dabi who didn’t wanna (he’d rather antagonize Hawks instead). So that’s where we’re at now. Oh and I almost forgot, but Tomura wants to destroy everything, like the whole fucking world, because he feels like that might help to ease his constant inner pain and torment. So that’s nice. What a nice chapter.

Today on BnHA: We fast-forward to mid-December. Tomura and the gang have been dueling Gigantomachia near-ceaselessly for the past month and a half. Giganto can fight for a full 48 hours (and 44 minutes) at a time without rest, so the Squad has been taking it in shifts, but since Tomura is Giganto’s main target he’s been fighting almost constantly. He seems to be in good spirits, though, and is confident they’re making progress. Anyway, so shortly after Giganto’s scheduled nap begins, Twice gets a call from Giran! Or rather, Re-Destro, calling from Giran’s phone, to brag about having kidnapped Giran. Apparently he’s been keeping busy by chopping off Giran’s fingers. Ramsay Bolton-ing it, if you will. He’s been leaving them at strategic locations across the country trying to get the League’s attention, but his buddies finally managed to hack Giran’s phone and get his contact info, so it turns out the finger-chopping wasn’t strictly necessary. So he explains who he is and what he’s about, says there are 116,516 members of the Liberation Army spread throughout the nation (did you do a fucking census?!), and explains that they have a satellite tracking Tomura’s location. He then delivers an ultimatum: come and fight, or be captured by the authorities.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 226, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

so the title of this chapter is “cockroach”, which could mean anything, but is most likely being used in the “pesky little bugger who’s obnoxiously hard to kill” sense. Tomura are you the cockroach. who is the cockroach. hmm

(ETA: yeah I still don’t know. whatever)

anyway so now it’s mid-December...! holy shit what, we’re caught up?

actually, scratch that, we’re ahead of where we were before because our last update was “early December, Sunday morning” on the day of Shouto and Katsuki’s provisional license retest. shit. Tomura I’m gonna need you to stop whatever it is you’re doing and go on your phone and look up articles about the purse snatchers who were stopped by the two young heroes who placed first and second in the U.A. sports festival earlier this year. specifically I need you to find out for me what Kacchan’s fucking hero name is omfg. can you do that

Tomura. Tomura, focus

...

okay I can see that you’re busy right now. wow. okay, uh

so lol this guy’s been at it for a month?? more or less? do I have that right? Tomura how the fuck are you still alive. you really are a cockroach

also did Giganto just fucking snap you in two here or

oh I should have known

hahaha they’re so cute!

I’m honestly amazed they haven’t fucking quit. they’re still at it. this is one loyal bunch of bastards. and Tomura is showing more dogged perseverance than I ever expected him to be capable of. makes me sad for what could have been, honestly

why doesn’t Compress just compress him. you’re telling me he hasn’t managed to touch him once in the however many weeks that they’ve been at this? or maybe he has and that’s how they’ve managed to survive this long lol

anyways, so Giganto is all “WEAK!” again and now he’s doing this

so maybe that’s why Compress hasn’t been able to touch him. he got that DBZ battle aura shit going on

(ETA: he’s kinda giving me All Might vibes, actually. Deku you wanna take a crack at this?)

meanwhile Spinner and Toga are watching from a safe distance like smart people

Toga says it looks like Tomura’s in trouble, and Spinner’s all “same as always then”

also Spinner has changed out of his Stain cosplay at long last and I don’t know what to make of this you guys

this is a shockingly normal look. a hoodie and a fucking jacket. I’m just... I’m still processing this. okay you win this round Spinner

so he’s explaining for those who aren’t paying attention to the timeline that it’s been more than a month and a half since Tomura was tasked with getting Gigantomachia to chill out, and he has still not chilled out

holyyyyyyy shit

I have to assume Spinner is exaggerating things here for the sake of drama because Tomura would fucking be dead. or else he’d have quit by the second day. screw destroying the world, I’m gonna take up knitting or something

I seriously can’t believe this shit though? was this part of AFO’s plan also? talk about a way to level up your protege in record time. either he dies or he becomes the strongest bitch who ever lived. has AFO been sneaking peeks at U.A.’s lesson plans

holy shit

wow they really are true ride or dies. also Dabi 100% had the right idea. best decision you ever made Touya

but seriously though Tomura should be dead. forget just sleeping, when is he eating and drinking? are the others going on coffee and bagel runs on their breaks? are you telling me Tomura’s been fighting this guy for the past 40 days all doped up on caffeine with only cup ramen to sustain him and running on 9 days’ worth of sleep spread out over six weeks wtf. he should be dead from exhaustion or else a fucking heart attack

holy shit Horikoshi actually explained how their broke asses didn’t just up and starve to death though omg

they got an allowance awww

also Toga is still the cutest and my favorite and fuck yeah girl you tell him though. nobody wants to be running around in the woods in fucking December without a fucking coat, Spinner

interesting that she’ll steal a bikini but not a jacket lol. nah we’re paying for that like good honest citizens

holy shit Spinner you’re still having your identity crisis?

I can’t decide if Horikoshi is setting things up to have him jump ship and join Detnerat (what with him feeling increasingly disillusioned with the League, and Destro’s philosophy being something that would almost certainly appeal to someone with his quirk and history), or purposely trying to make it seem like he is so that he can subvert everyone’s expectations and have him unexpectedly remain loyal to Tomura at the critical moment. kinda like what happened when Katsuki got captured. right now I’m leaning more to him defecting though; I think that plot would open up a lot more possibilities story-wise

(ETA: after reading Toga’s latest chapter I’ve swung back around on this. the Liberation Army is full of fucking phonies who don’t practice what they preach. look at how Kizuki was trying to make Toga into a martyr for their cause. I feel like Spinner would be able to see through their bullshit. hopefully.)

by the way you guys has Ochako always been on this list or is this a recent development??

and I love you, Toga! even though this in no way even comes close to answering Spinner’s question though! it’s okay it was foolish of him to ask

(ETA: so apparently she loves Ochako because she ships her and Deku! this is one of the most relatable things in this manga to date.)

lol

hush you that’s what makes her so perfect

and now I guess some time is passing and now they’re finally getting to take a break!

you know, that’s a good point about him eating. he’s gotta power himself up somehow. all quirks have a limit, we’ve known that since very early on. at some point Giganto has to reach his, right?

holy shit you guys

I just got some strong Katsuki vibes coming off of our resident crazyboy here and I need a moment to process this. damn. that’s some powerful character development from a guy whose signature move up till this point was sitting on a couch

Spinner’s watching him and thinking that Tomura’s gaze looks like that of “a young boy chasing his dreams”

yeah, his dream of destroying the whole world and everything in it. so pure

oh FUCK

YOUR BOY GIRAN WHO’S CURRENTLY BEING HELD BY DETNERAT?? THAT GIRAN? UH

lol Compress is telling Twice to ask if his robot arm is insured. Giran has bigger things to worry about than your arm dude. if this even is Giran calling and Giran isn’t fucking dead, since we do know this series isn’t above killing people off every now and then, and we had quite the disturbing image of what looked like a finger lying on what was apparently Giran’s signature scarf in the last chapter

Twice is saying that Giran is a real good guy and that he looked out for Twice even after he joined the League

ffffff he really is fucking dead huh

lmao but because it’s Twice he then immediately shouts at Giran for being an asshole and not answering Compress’s calls

OH FUCK

FUCK ME YOU GUYS GIRAN WAS FUCKING TORTURED TO DEATH. HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS SERIES KEEP ESCALATING ITS LEVELS OF HARDCORE WHEN IT COMES TO VILLAINS

so Compress is stupidly asking if Giran’s using a voice changer, but Twice has already conned on to what’s going on

oh fuck oh shit oh fucking shit

Compress is immediately whipping out his phone

OH FUSCK

JUST VILLAIN THINGS

fuck me this fucking series not pulling any punches. “what timeslot does the anime currently run in, again?” Horikoshi asks absentmindedly while he proceeds to not give a flying fuck one way or the other

ksdjlfkjw jesus fucking christ

IS THIS FUCKING GAME OF THRONES??! are you fucking for real with this shit??! AND SURE, WHY NOT, LET’S JUST DRAW THE FUCKING FINGER JUST LYING THERE ON THE SIDEWALK

BREAKING NEWS, JUST ANNOUNCED, SEASON 5 OF THE RUNAWAY ANIME HIT “MY HERO ACADEMIA” TO AIR EXCLUSIVELY ON HBO

oh hold up lol there’s more

well fuck me y’all if that ain’t a whole fucking hand

and fuck me also because the site of All Might’s last stand against AFO in Kamino is officially known as Ground Zero and it’s commemorated with a fucking statue and everything. my Kacchan hero name theory is decimated, Ground Zero as Kacchan’s hero name is fucking confirmed and if it is the case I’m going to get extremely emotional now at what his obvious reasons would be for choosing that name holy shit though

(ETA: although to be fair! what’s written in the chapter here is グラウンドゼロ (Guraundozero), whereas Bakugou’s name from those old character book sketches was 爆心地 (Bakushinchi). so it’s not quite the same! I feel like it’s still up in the air. I really just need this to be settled already lol. can you tell by the way I keep bringing it up multiple times each chapter even though this is an arc about the fucking villains for pete’s sake.)

-- oh shit he’s right. so we’ve got the Eight Precepts’ house, Hosu City, the Highway to Hell, Kamino, and now Fukuoka. you guys if memory serves, that is indeed every known League of Villains incident location... except for one. the very first one. as if U.A. needed any more reason to be on edge lately holy christ. let’s hope to god they don’t start chopping off the other hand

oh snap Joker’s got himself a name now!

Redestro? or ReDestro? lol that’s one of those names that looks fine in all-caps comic book letters but when typed out like this it looks stupid as hell

(ETA: I’m going with Re-Destro since it looks the least weird to me. idk.)

wow Tomura you’ve had time to keep up with the NY Times bestselling list while fighting for your life for the last six weeks? I’m impressed

this kid is not in a mood to play nice with others today and I’m loving it

Twice. where the fuck do you think Giran is. smdh

wow, Re-Destro says he’s actually still alive. hey you don’t have to show us what kind of condition he’s in, Horikoshi. just putting that out there. we have functioning imaginations, we get it. we’re good

(ETA: he’s actually doing a lot better than I thought he’d be. though I still want to take him home and wrap him up in a blanket and make him watch Jaime’s redemption arc in GoT and see if he gets inspired.)

anyway so Re-Des says they’re gonna destroy the status quo and rebuild the world into a place where everyone is free to use their powers to their full extent whenever

wow, Compress

um idk maybe because they chopped your broker’s fucking fingers off??? were you guys not tight with Giran or what? poor dude suffered some horrific shit all because he didn’t want to sell you fuckers out. least you could do is be offended

meanwhile Tomura wants to get a raincheck on this whole affair because he has other pressing matters to deal with right now

at least he told them to release Giran

oh fuuuuuuuuuuuck

where are they?? an observation tower somewhere??

jesus christ is that blood on his lap there??

how are his arms even tied behind him if he’s missing a fucking hand????

(ETA: genuinely curious about that last one though lol.)

wow Re-Destro is really testing the League’s empathy levels here

well, Tomura, that’s some pretty fucked up shit he did to your guy. what do you think. are you even slightly horrified. pissed off?

oh shit you guys!!

HE DIDN’T EVEN TALK. THIS MOTHERFUCKER DIDN’T BREAK, THEY HAD TO HACK HIS PHONE WITH THEIR MAD IT SKILLS IN ORDER TO GET THE LEAGUE’S CONTACT INFO. AND GIRAN LOOKS FUCKING HORRIFIED OH MY GOD

guys I can’t believe Giran is my new favorite character I s2g Horikoshi if you touch him again I’ll

...anyway. let’s do this whole two-page spread now because I’m super hyped in spite of my also being horrified by everything

FEEL GOOD INC. is that a fucking Gorillaz reference in my fucking shounen manga about superheroes. do I need to analyze me some lyrics. I can’t actually see any connection lol aside from it being a badass name for a villain corporation

guys I can’t believe Kizuki is my new favorite character I s2g Horikoshi if you touch her I’ll

oh hey, cool, shouldn’t be too hard to take these guys out. they’ve just got billions of dollars (presumably) and one hundred thousand soldiers lying in wait ready to rise to action at a moment’s notice, their words not mine. cool. cool cool cool cool cool cool cool we’re fucked

OH SHIT

is that why he’s in that observation place? fucking hell, how?

OH SHIT, AGAIN

HOW FUCKING NOBLE OF Y’ALL. though honestly I guess if we have to pick between the villains with the 12 Noumus of the Apocalypse who want to destroy everything, or the villains capable of running a successful business who just want people with quirks to be free, objectively the latter group is a better bet to side with

except for the fact that the latter group is totally cool with snapping their poor mouse secretary’s neck just because he didn’t like their book. and they’re also down to chop off a guy’s fingers one by one just to make a damn point. so yeah, pardon me but I’m gonna side with the League here in spite of everything

wow what the hell kind of negotiations are these??

so you just called to tell them that? “hi hello just wanted to introduce myself and let you all know I hate you and here’s how fucking screwed you are lol have fun with that”

haha hey Horikoshi what the fuck

(ETA: so yeah this is that same hand gesture that he’s doing in the panel immediately after this one. I guess it’s just their thing. these guys think they’re so fucking cool. it’s not cool to chop off people’s hands, Re-Destro!!)

I can’t believe I have to deal with this shit on the same day I’m posting the damn mushroom chapter recap

oh wow okay so he is actually giving them a chance here

lol wow this fucking arc. holy shit

but who was cockroach. well whatever. fucking villain arcs though, you guys. omg

#bnha #boku no hero academia #shigaraki tomura #gigantomachia #re-destro #himiko toga #spinner (bnha)#twice (bnha)#mr. compress #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #the real cockroach was the friends we made along the way #I guess #I don't know #it's late and I'm completely out of ideas lol

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julia-highstorms · 6 years ago

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Jane Is Here (ILITW AU) - Chapter 6

Summary: Have you ever wondered what would have happened if Jane had survived the game and got a chance to grow up with her friends?

Disclaimer: all the characters belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Note: Gender neutral MC. BACK FROM HIATUS AGAIN!!!! I was going to publish it tomorrow, but it still is Wednesday, It Lives day, so... Jane Is Here summary. My masterlist

Pairing: Noah x MC

Rating: T

Word count: 2195

Chapter 6 - The Return of an Old Friend

"Did y'all hear it?" - Andy asks bluntly as he and Ava reunite with their friends in the back of the school's library. It's lunch time and there's no one else there. The librarian is on her desk, far away from them.

"Yeah." - Dan answers, still looking uneasy. Lily seems to be on the verge of crying.

“It doesn’t make sense.” - Lucas states, adjusting his glasses, passing around nervously. - “It just doesn’t make sense. Why? After all these years? Why now?”

“It doesn’t matter why! What it matters is that we stop that psycho before he does something and hurts people!” - Noah snaps, taking a look at his sister, who’s been looking pale and tense since they all heard Redfield’s voice.

“And why does it have to be us?!” - Stacy scowls back at him, crossing her arms. - “It’s none of our business. We didn’t even go back there after everything that happened.”

MC bits their lower lip, remembering the strange events that happened in the sleepover, then when they went camping with the Marshall twins.

“I’m not so sure about it. ” - they affirm before turning to their best friend. - “Jane, do you have it with you?” - the redhead girl nods and pulls out something from her backpack. - “We went camping in the woods on the weekend before Dan’s party. And we found this.” - all their friends gather closer around them, staring at the small wooden object on their hand. - “It’s the whistle I gave Jane ten years ago. That went missing after we met Mr. Red.”

“This doesn’t mean anything. ” - Stacy murmurs stubbornly, but with less conviction.

“There’s another thing…” - MC’s mind drifts back to the talk they had with Mrs. García that morning. - “There’s someone missing. My neighbor, a shy little boy named Samuel. I babysit him sometimes and his mom told me that he went missing since yesterday afternoon."

"Oh yeah, I heard about it. My dad went looking for him in the woods with a search party last night… but they found nothing." - Ava, whose father's the town's sheriff, says with her usual stoic face. - "They're there again at this moment, now that they have the sun to help them."

MC proceeds to tell them a bit about Sam. On how the boy's always alone especially since his parents divorce… and how he likes playing outside and that he lied to his mother about going to the woods to play with some friends.

"...And I have a guess of who’s his friend.” - they conclude with a frown.

“Mr. Red…” - Lily murmurs, her body shaking. MC nods.

“Redfield is back. And he most likely got the kid. We have to do something.” - they state with resolution, the fear gone and replaced with determination.

"Hold on." - Lucas rises his hands in a calming gesture. - "We're not sure about it. He might have just ran away from home. Based on what you said about Samuel, MC, this is likely to have happened."

"Oh yeah, let's keep being skeptical about all this, especially after that creepy-ass voice we all heard." - Noah glares back at the Student Body President, saying through gritted teeth.

“Listen, I agree that this probably is Mr. Red's doing… but, come on. This kid needs actual help. From like, adults. And professionals. Professional adults." - Stacy says.

“No, it’s gotta be us.” - MC is resolute.

"And why is that, precisely?" - Lucas asks at them.

"Because we know who took him."

"Right, an imaginary friend we had when we were, like, eight years old." - Stacy rolls her eyes.

"You know damn well Redfield isn't imaginary." - Jane finally finds her voice, scowling back at the other cheerleader. Stacy avoids her gaze. - "I know nobody wants to dredge all that stuff back up. Do you think I like remembering all that happened?" - no one says a thing. Jane feels her brother's comforting hand on her shoulder, calming her a bit. - "...We all remember him, we just heard him. And we all know what's his capable of doing. We can't let him do the same thing to this boy. It's gotta be us." - MC grins proudly at Jane.

"And no one would believe if we said that the kid got kidnapped by some shadow monster nightmare dude that lives in the woods." - Noah concludes.

"But… it doesn't make sense." - Dan's voice is just a whisper. - "I mean, why would he suddenly appears again, after 10 years? Why didn’t he come back before, if he’s still out there?”

“Because something must have happened. Maybe he was trapped again, since Jane survived, but maybe Sam found the ruins and liberated him.” - MC ponders.

"Alright." - Andy finally speaks. - "So, what's the plan?"

"We have to go find Samuel and figure out what he did, so we can undo it. We have to go--"

"...into the woods..." - Lily interrupts MC, her face going even paler. She backs away, shaking her head, fear in her eyes.

The group falls in silence again.

"Guys… I know this is scary… but we need everyone's help." - MC breaks the silence.

"Besides, we have each other. I know we'll be alright." - Jane takes Lily's hand in hers and squeeze it reassuringly. - "If we pulled it out when we were kids, imagine now, that we're practically adults?!" - she sees small smiles on her friend's faces. - "As long as we’re together, I fear nothing."

"Nice words, Jane." - Noah compliments her and they all chuckle softly. MC turns to their friends:

"So, are we going in or what?"

"A creepy deep-woods ghost hunt is emphatically my brand. Of course I'm in." - Ava smiles confidently.

"Me too." - Dan nods. - "I won't be able to sleep at night knowing I did nothing to help a little boy."

Andy cracks his knuckles:

"I don't know about this ghost crap… but I'm really looking forward to kick some monster's ass."

"Yeah, we're in." - the twins smile, braveness irradiating from them.

"I believe… there's strength in numbers, right?"- Lily takes a deep breath. - "So I'm going too." - Jane lets out an excited squeal and hugs her tightly.

"What about you two?" - Noah turns to Lucas and Stacy.

"When are we going? Friday?" - the Student President asks.

"What? No! We have to go tonight!” - The Beanie Boy exclaims. MC agrees:

“We can't waste time. We don't know what Redfield night do until then.”

“Ugh. I can’t.” - it’s Ava who responds. - “My dad’s got this really strict school night curfew and WOW does this sound lame out loud.”

"Look, even if I did believe all of this... I just don’t have the time.” - Jane gives Lucas a disappointment look.

“Uh… I have training until six.” - Andy says with a frown.

“Yeah, I have football training too. But we can meet with you guys later… before we go in there.” - Dan proposes.

“And we have cheer practice today and early tomorrow morning too.” - Stacy says.

“C’mon guys, we need everyone.” - MC turns to Ava. - “What if we told your father you’re coming to study at my house?”

“Huh. That might actually do it. He always liked you all.” - she rolls her eyes. Lily giggles.

“Like you!! You love us!” - and she pulls the witch girl into a hug. Ava rolls her eyes again but pats her friend’s back.

“And Lucas, I know that you have a busy schedule… but I do believe the school won’t blow up for just one night.”

Lucas wants to tell them that there’s more, but he bites back his tongue. No one knows about his parents’ expectations. Aside from Jane.

His eyes unconsciously find her big brown eyes. And no one was able to deny her anything she gave them that pleading look.

“...Alright, I’ll go. Let’s say that Mr. Cooper has decided to give us a test tomorrow and we all will go to MC’s house to study.” - everybody nods in agreement. It’s stupid, Lucas knows it, but he feels his heart more at ease after seeing Jane gazing at him with adoring eyes.

“And Stacy, you’re the head cheerleader. You can cancel training whenever you want.” - the redhead turns to her. - “Let’s tell the girls that the cheer practice was postponed to Wednesday morning.”

“Britney won’t be happy about it.”

“To hell with Britney! Sorry, Lil.” - she quickly turns to the girl by her side. She giggles and says that ‘it’s fine’. Lily’s fully aware that her girlfriend isn’t very popular among we friends. - “C’mon, Stacy. You know the rules…”

“Everyone plays together.” - Noah murmurs in a morbid voice. He chuckles softly when MC elbows him, disapprovingly.

“...and we need everyone.”

Stacy mentally curses herself. Jane’s big brown pleasing eyes has always been her weakness.

"Okay, okay, training postponed." - Jane cheers. - "But you'll be the one who'll tell Britney."

"Aye, captain!"

"Crap, lunch time's almost over!" - Andy shouts as he notices the time on his phone. He just got a text from Tom: "Dude, where r u?!"

The nine teenagers stand up, ready to leave the dark and dusty library. They all agree to follow Dan's suggestion to meet later after their training.

MC has just come back from school and is petting Hilda for a little bit before going to do their homework when someone rings the bell of their house.

"Shh, Hilda!" - they mutter, approaching the front door with cautious steps, their heart pounding inside their chest, a cold shiver running down their spine… is it…?

They let out a relieved sigh when they open the door and see two cops, one of them Mr. Cunningham, standing there.

"Good afternoon, MC. Are your parents there?" - the sheriff asks, giving them a stiff nod.

"No, they still haven't come back from their trip. It's just me." - the cops nod again.

"We're here to ask you about Samuel García." - MC invites them to enter the house.

"Yeah, Mrs. García told me that he went missing."

"We do not suspect about you, but we're asking the neighbors if someone saw him or has any idea of where he possibly went."

MC had a good guess. But they would never believe them. Noah's words echoed in their mind: "...no one would believe if we said that the kid got kidnapped by some shadow monster nightmare dude that lives in the woods".

They wouldn't.

"The last time I saw Sam was Saturday evening." - when they were going to Dan's party. - "He was playing by himself in the front yard of his house, as usual."

"Did you talk to him? Did he seem different?"

MC's mind focuses on the image of the small boy with big glasses playing with his ball.

"I just waved at him and he waved back at me before resuming kicking his ball. Even though I've been his babysitter for the past three years, Samuel is not much of a talker. He doesn't talk much about his friends in school and he's a very shy and lonely boy. And I guess it got worse after his parent's started fighting and divorced. We could hear their arguments from my house sometimes. I guess he became even more secluded after it all started. I believe he likes playing outside so he couldn't be right in the middle of the fights, you know?" - Sheriff Cunningham nods, his hands expertly writing everything MC says.

"So you think he might have ran away?"

MC bites their lips.

"Probably. But where to?"

MC knows where. But they can't tell them. The lesser people know Redfield, the better.

"We had a search party into the woods last night but we found nothing. Not even footprints. We sent word to the closest town's Police Station, Pine Springs, just across the lake, about Samuel's missing. The chief there, Chief Kelley, says that his team will be looking around too. We believe he might not have gone too far away, even with the intermunicipal bus. Someone at some point would find strange a boy his age travelling around by himself."

MC agrees with him. They talk a little more - the cops tell them that they had already talked to Cid that morning before he left town, to MC's relief. They would hate if good old Cid turned into a suspect of Samuel's disappearance - and leave the house, asking MC to call them if they knew anything about Sam's whereabouts.

The teenager is more resolute than ever that they have to find the little boy as soon as possible. They take a quick shower before focusing on homework. Around 5pm, their phone buzzes on their desk.

Their heart skips a beat when they see that it's a text from Noah:

Noah: "hey, want to meet up sooner? I'm going to Gunther's Hardware store. I was thinking we should gear up before we go. I'd feel safer if we got something to defend ourselves from Mr. Red... plus who knows what else is in there.”

MC: “Do you think the hardware store will have Ghostbusters equipment stuff?"

Noah: “Very funny.”

MC grins to themself. They almost can see Noah rolling his eyes, annoyed.

MC: "Anyway… I'm in. Are we going together then?"

The next text takes longer than necessary to be answered, but it finally comes: Noah: "Yeah."

MC: "okay, meet you in five."

Tagging @kurbqa-deactivated20180730 @miragemeister @yertletheturtle04 @mysteriouslady4 @klaudiana-beaumontkkreal @katiehawkeyebishop @melchann @hippiekiyay @lovethemarshalltwins @american-duchess @jadedpixiescribbles @gameofstrangerwars @blackheartdreams @indiacater @nuttatulipa @lcnelywclf @sazanes @mmmmmmyyyah @ietss @noahfield @pixelburied @noahpologiste

#jane is here #noah marshall #jane marshall #noah x mc #it lives in the woods #ilitw #playchoices #ilitw fanfic #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #playchoices faniction

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junionigiri · 6 years ago

Text

Work In Progress [BNHA] [Preview of Chapter 1!]

Rating: T for strong language (since Bakugou is in it )

Summary: For the year’s Interscholastic Fantasy Festival, Class 2A is working on a musical! The reluctant Bakugou is assigned to work on the script with Uraraka, who proves to be a more eccentric writer than he thought.

Relationship: Kacchako <3

Notes/Warnings: This is a preview of a part of chapter 1. Since there’s the main story and the story within the story, the chapters are pretty darn long. I’ll start publishing the chapters in full once I’m five chapters in ^^’ Apart from Bakugou’s language and liberal 4th wall breaks I don’t think there’s anything to worry about in this fic~

Bakugou seriously did not want to work on Uraraka’s dumbass script. It’s not that he was bad at writing--in fact, beyond his good grades, he knew he was pretty good at it. Principal Nezu had personally informed him that the essay he submitted on “Why I Want To Be A Hero” was one of the most well-composed ones he’s ever read.

It’s just that Bakugou hated fantasy. And hated fiction-writing (because fiction was not real, therefore it was a waste of his fuckin’ time).

Most of all though, he hated having to work with other people to achieve any kind of common goal. Look at his damn stats for cooperativeness in the character book and anyone with half a brain would get it. And to cooperate for a stupid ass waste of time like the Fantasy Festival? Who the hell thought up of the stupid Fantasy Festival anyway?! Weren’t there more important things in society to worry about?

And the fact that he was working with Uraraka fuckin’ Ochako was in itself pretty aggravating. It’s not that he hated her--in fact, she was one of the few to earn Bakugou’s (grudging) respect, since their infamous Sports Festival encounter when they were first years.

However, since their encounter at the festival, Uraraka learned not to be the tiniest bit afraid of him anymore. He knew that this girl wouldn’t be the type to just shut up and do what he tells her to, and he really didn’t feel like making such an effort just to write a stupid play.

But now that he knew that fuckin’ All Might was counting on him to write the script, well… he couldn’t get out of it now, could he? Bakugou was many things, but a disappointment to All Might, he’d rather not be.

So that was how he found himself stomping his way away from the common areas to his room, with Uraraka bouncing right behind him. They were going to sit down there to look over her draft, but it was overrun by the costumes, set-design, and props people with all their shit.

“Why your room?” Uraraka said, huffing as she struggled to keep up with Bakugou’s pace. “I don’t think girls are allowed there…”

“Let ‘em try to kick you out, Round-Face,” he growled as he tapped on the elevator button impatiently.

“If you say so, Explodey-face,” she teased, earning her a growl which was received with a giggle. This was what Bakugou was talking about. This damn girl knew no fear.

They eventually made it to his room, with Bakugou stomping the entire way and Uraraka skipping like an oblivious little red riding hood romping through the forest with a picnic basket, the purest picture of ignorance and innocence, unwitting of the ravenous wolf who lurked in the foreboding shadows of the dark, nightmarish wood.

Ugh. Really, Bakugou? Already gearing yourself up to write this fuckin’ fantasy shit? You guys haven’t even sat down yet. Don’t be too fuckin’ eager.

“Uwaa, your room’s amazing, Bakugou! I didn’t think it would be so neat and sparkly~”

Much to his annoyance, Little Pink Riding Cheeks was already making herself right at home next to his desk. He felt a vein or two pop over his forehead, like in animes if they were in an anime. “Why the fuck wouldn’t it be neat and sparkly?! You expect a guy like me to just live in a dump?!”

“I’m just sayin’, I wish my room was as neat. I knew you were great at lots of things, but even cleaning?” she said wistfully. “Hey, I have an idea! Next time, let’s go to my room, and--”

“I ain’t helping you clean your damn room, Round-Face.”

She pouted and innocently twiddled her thumbs. “I -wasn’t- going to say that, but, you know, now that you mentioned it…”

He grit his teeth so loudly Uraraka gasped and asked him if his teeth were okay. “Let’s just…!!! Get this fuckin’ script over and done with already!”

“Eh, fine, fine. Sorry for teasin’ ya! Watch yer blood pressure, a’ight?” She reached over to open her bag and pulled out a messy folder that was crumpled, filled to its limit with papers with tags pointing in all directions. A post-it with a messy scrawl on it flew out as she pulled out the mess. “So, this is what we’re gonna be workin’ on!”

“What the fuck is that mess? Did you fuckin’ sit on it and flush it down the toilet and set it on fire?”

“How rude!” Uraraka puffed her cheeks. “I only sat on it once! On accident! And I don’t bring homework to the toilet! That’s just unladylike.” She opened up the folder and revealed a disorganized array of handwritten scripts scrawled on legal pad, post-its, sketches, more post-its, reference photos of their classmates with post-its on them, receipts, a grocery list, and a few folded-up paper bags from Tokyu Hands.

Bakugou’s fingers itched. He spent so much energy restraining himself from fixing the mess that was now taking over his desk that he barely heard Uraraka’s spiel.

“So, in the meeting which you missed, we drew lots. Everyone’s working on the production and stuff but all of us will be acting in the play too. Some of us bit parts and stuff, but yeah. I asked everyone what they wanted their roles to be. Based on those ideas, I sketched out my ideas on what their characters would be.”

She pulled out the sketches, and Bakugou had to admit, they weren’t badly done. He would go so far as to say that she might have a talent in drawing. They were scratchy and messy, but Uraraka seemed to place great care in drawing out the likeness of each classmate, and the details of each character and costume and even background information were at least 70% fleshed out for each of them.

“So based on the lottery, Deku-kun’s the lead character. You, me, Tsuyu-chan, and Todoroki-kun are gettin’ large roles, plus we gotta pay attention to All-Might-sensei’s important cameo. We’re gonna write the story based on all of this! And, if we want to allot time for practice and stuff, we have to finish most of the script in a week!”

“The f-- I’m gettin’ a large role too?! Nobody said that!”

“It ain’t my fault you weren’t at the meeting, Bakugou-kun.”

The blonde boy scowled as he went through the sketches. The fucking nerd Deku’s role was that of a ‘Squire’ (but his costume made him look like a fucking hobbit). Uraraka had a hood (fuckin’ coincidence from his red riding hood fantasy earlier) and a staff, and she was a ‘Mage’. Frog was a froggy lookin’ barmaid. IcyHot was a Prince (probably of the Land of Half and Halfs where people were always shitty and constipated). All Might was a Legendary Knight in exile (also fitting, in a morbid sort of way).

And Bakugou was… a Bard. His sketch had him wear fuckin’ poofy pants and a stupid fuckin’ hat with a feather on it and a stupid shitty tiny harp that the chubby babies in those old fuckin’ European paintings had. He all but made the paper disappear from a blast from his fist. “Oi, Roundface. Who’s the fucker I gotta kill besides you for giving me this pansy-ass role?!”

“Hey, it’s your fault. You weren’t there yesterday.” Uraraka repeated, not even the least bit apologetic. “And that thing you destroyed was a brilliant joint effort between me, Kirishima-kun and Kaminari-kun. Nice goin’, Explodey-face.”

“Fuck y’all! I’ll kill those idiots!” He shredded the paper further. “Gimme that pencil!” Within seconds, he sketched out something different, muttering expletives the entire time. After he was done, he dumped the pencil on the desk, almost breaking it into tiny little pieces.

Uraraka gasped. “Wow, Bakugou! That’s really impressive! A Dragon Tamer, huh?” She traced his sketch with one finger, which showed him with a fur cape, tattoos, a necklace made of the fuckin’ skulls and teeth of his enemies, pants and boots, and lots of fire blazing in the background for extra badassery. She grinned at him teasingly. “So you have been thinkin’ about this so-called fantasy shit too!”

“Fuck you,” he said, shoving her in the face unceremoniously. “Now I know that I gotta change that fuckin’ script of yours. Let’s just get this fuckin’ shit over with.”

“Okay…” Uraraka pulled out the legal pads, but shielded them from Bakugou. “Um. Just so you know, Bakugou, these are really, really, rough drafts, okay?”

His jaw jutted out in annoyance. “The fuck you mean by rough drafts. I thought I was just gonna edit your shit.”

She gave him a ridiculous look. “Well, you are. But also, I started workin’ on this just a week ago sooooo you gotta help me finish like a teeny bit of it.”

“How fuckin’ teeny do you mean.”

“Um. Like. 50% of it, mmmaybe…?”

Bakugou could almost see the smoke coming out of his own fuckin’ nostrils.

“Anyway, that’s exactly why we can’t waste anymore time, right?” said Uraraka, a positive beam glowing out of both ears. “And don’t you worry! The story’s practically finished in my head!”

There’s probably nothing in there but a single light bulb struggling to survive, thought Bakugou in annoyance. He put his palm to his face and tried his hardest not to yell at her. “Fine, Uraraka. Let’s just fuckin’ start already. No matter what, I’m kickin’ you out of my room by 10 PM.”

“Okay! Glad ya see it my way, Bakugou-kun!” She smiled and pulled out the first page of the script, which read:

- Deku and the Final Fantastic Lord of the School of Wizardry!: The Legend of the Airbender’s Song of Ice and Fire -

(A Work in Progress)

Act One, Scene One: In Which Deku-kun Leaves His House and Adventure Begins

Written by: Uraraka Ochako

“The fuck? Are you trying to outdo Class B’s lameass play from the last year’s cultural festival, Round-face?”

“It’s a work in progress! We can edit it out later.” Uraraka said as she scribbled Explodey McSplodeface next to her name on the by-line.

#bnha fic #bnha #boku no hero academia #kacchako #kacchako fic #bakuraka #bakugou x uraraka #bnha fantasy au #kinda

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 7 years ago

Text

Valentine’s Day Looks For Lonely Old Maids Wishing To Be Courted!

HEY guys! So I was gonna do a ~vlog~ type deal here but I unexpectedly lost my voice, which was probably God telling me not to do this, but I chose to ignore that message. Anyway, Valentine‘s Day is creeping up on us like it does every year, and seems like every day I see another new VDay Date night makeup tutorial put out into the world by the lovely beauty vloggers. But it got me thinking- what about people who are single on Valentine’s Day? All the guys, gals and people in between who were unable to score a date? Plenty of people go out of their way to try and feel nice on Valentine’s Day, right? Right. Do those people not deserve their own tutorial? So, I present to you: Looks for a Valentine’s Day All Alone.

Now, I don’t normally wear makeup, actually, because, well- I trust we’re all familiar with the term ‘putting lipstick on a big’? I happen to bring new, exciting, and literal definitions to that phrase. But if I go to a party or a holiday shindig I’ll put a little on, and Valentine’s Day is no different. I want the illusion of feeling nice, you know? Even though makeup isn’t an everyday thing for me, I haven’t felt the love of another human person in over two decades, so I really think I’m the best person to walk you through the looks today. I’m a pro at lonely Valentine’s Days. So, here’s how we started:

Average, but workable. I made sure to pull my hair out of my face. Now, I’m gonna go step-by-step here for the looks achieved, so feel free to follow along!

All the VDay makeup styles I’ve seen so far have been eye-popping and phenom and all, but that’s not the look we’re going for today. We’re single old maids, remember? We need subtly on our side to draw someone in, because they won’t be expecting it. A sweet, subdued look that subconsciously screams ‘please marry me immediately and support me financially as I write the Next Great American Novel’. That’s what we’re going for today. Now, most people start off with foundation, so apply that now if you want- I personally opted out on account of my foundation is three (3) shades darker than my actual skin, because I don’t go into the sun and therefore have an unhealthy complexion they can’t match in stores, and also because I only use it in stage shows so I don’t appear faceless. So, anyway, I started out with the eye shadow:

I went for that nice light pink and the sparkly brown next to it to create my Look. They worked quite nicely together, and the sparkle didn’t overpower the ‘marriage-material-girl-next-store’ vibes. After I applied it all I tried to take pictures to show it off, but the lighting in my house was against us. But I promise it was cute, and I’m sure whichever colors you’ve selected for yourself look cute as well! I also just used some of the eyeshadow to add to my brows- I don’t like, ever bother with them because in all honesty I don’t usually need to, but they haven’t been touched up in a bit so I figured what the hell. Anyway, let’s move onto mascara!

I had two options to pick from- a volume-specific mascara or the bare minerals. I’ve heard great things about the bare minerals brand, but a couple years ago I had said something to the effect of ‘I don’t see the point in glue on eyelashes, that would make me so nervous’ and my friend Annika immediately said ‘Molly, do you even have eyelashes?!?! You should love those things!’ and sometimes I still think about that if I’m having a bad day, so I opted for the bigger volume kind.

Make sure to be CAREFUL when applying! I’ll never forget 8th grade graduation when my friend let her mom do her makeup and she got straight up stabbed by the mascara wand. Her eye was completely red for the whole ceremony and reception. You don’t need that alone on Valentine’s Day, honeys.

Now, this is the part where most people apply winged eyeliner, and I literally love that style to the ends of the earth, but one time a makeup artist took my face in her hands and begged me to never touch eyeliner because my eyes are apparently too damn small for it to look good, so I just don’t have it. Absolutely add it to your look if you want, though! I can’t imagine it would take away from the sweet simplicity too much. Onto lipstick!

I had three super cute shades to pick from- the one on the left, I adore, but I felt it was too strong a shade for our Simple Look. The pink was lovely, shy but popping, the perfect Valentine’s Day color! But when I wear it, I’m forced to physically confront my fears that I’m slowly turning into my mother and am cursed to live out her life, and I figured we already have enough issues to deal with being alone and unloved on Valentine’s Day, why bother to throw that one in too, you know? But the red on the right? Perfect! It’s a great, fun shade by a brand I’ve literally never heard of before, but the shade is nice on me, There might be a little glitter in there, but ignore that, because it’s not actually part of the lipstick, there was just an incident on the floor of a train station bathroom on New Years Eve and we’re still dealing with the repercussions. Don’t worry about it! Just pick a nice VDay shade that’ll draw the attention of your dinner delivery person!

The application has to be precise, kids, because cleaning it up and wiping it off can be a real female dog. We don’t need any more stress than we already have, being alone and unloved on Valentine’s Day.

And look at that! That’s not the face of a girl who’s doomed to become her mother! That’s the face of a girl who’s going to sit on her couch watching MTV’s Catfish while telling herself she’s gonna marry a doctor someday. You know, when I was a kid my mother was always so quick to lay on the praise, to assure me that I’d be rich and successful and happy as an adult. These days, she’s all about me finding a rich husband. All the time, it’s ‘we need to get you a rich husband so you can be taken care of and have a lot of babies!’ And like, would I mind if that’s how the future played out? No, absolutely not, it’d be great. But like….what happened? When did she loose her faith in me? What made her give up? If I can’t be trusted to make a name for myself, how can I be trusted to find the Rich Husband I deserve? I look like a twelve year old, do you know how hard it is to get men to seriously flirt with you when you’ve got my face? Sometimes girls will flirt with me, but before I can a chance to even decide if I’m into it or not my mom appears from the shadows, apparently doesn’t read any of the Vibes going on, and effectively kills the moment. She’s a total cockblocker considering how much she wants grandchildren. And even she’s not giving me a pity Valentine’s Day card this year…

So anyway! This is the Fun part of the night alone! You look cute, you’ll probably goof around and take some selfies, selfies you think in the moment are gorgeous and not even like you and the pinnacle of human beauty, post them online to make it look like you have a life but then you’ll delete them tomorrow when you realize they got no likes. Here’s what they may look like for you:

But….we’ve reached That part of Valentine’s Day Single

You start to grow disillusioned with everything. Why were you even bothering with this? You aren’t going to get a rich spouse, you aren’t even going to get laid. All you’re going to get is a pity smile from the Chinese Food Delivery Guy when he drops off General Tso Chicken for one. Screw this, right? You head to the kitchen

Make sure you grab the PINK wine, because it’s still festive and you’re desperately hoping to feel any sort of enjoyment out of the holiday still!

You’ll chug for as long as you can. Make sure to be careful, though! Don’t want to mess up your lipstick!

This brand I’m using is dead awful, by the way- the label implies it’s made by reindeer pissing into a bottle, and I’m pretty sure that’s an apt way to describe the taste. But it’s pink and festive!!! And besides, the good red wine is GIVEN to people who DESERVE it. It’s saved for dates and sex and romance and relaxation. Why waste it on some nobody who’s gonna waste away alone? Keep the bottle with you.

Time to shift into our second look for the night!!!

So we’re gonna come back to the eyeshadow pallet- see the brown and black at the end? We’re gonna use them to represent all the chocolate we’re going to be eating! Spread it around your mouth and lips as unevenly as you can- we’re really pigging out tonight.

Look in the mirror. Look at what you’ve done. Feel the self disgust churning in your stomach with the wine and chocolate. You promised yourself today was gonna be a nice day, a Treat Yo Self day, a day filled with self care and self love. Pitiful. How can you ever love yourself if a rich man never will?

So now we’re gonna bust out my absolute FAVORITE product, this lovely blue nail polish:

I know with other products for our looks so far I’ve been liberal, insisting you choose colors that work for you- but I really must insist you get blue nail polish for this part. Because obviously after the chocolate and wine binge we’re going to start crying! Valentine’s Day, all alone, never experiencing love in your life so far? What’s there to even be happy about! But crying is like…such hard work, you know? You get headaches, your eyes puff and redden, you make obnoxious noises that make the old lady in the apartment next to yours bang her cane on the wall to get you to shut up. Who wants to deal with that, right? So we’re going to get a little ingenuitive and use this to represent our tears!

Draw on as many as you please, just be careful not to get any in your eyes! Then we’ll have real tears, huh? Wouldn’t that be wild…it would give off the illusion of feeling something even though now there’s just a burning emptiness inside you. You’re still crying, but you feel numb more than anything else.

Now, of course- crying is going to smudge your eye makeup. I brought out my second mascara, the bare minerals, to achieve the look:

Scratchy!

What else would crying cause? Oh, right, it’d completely wash off all your cover-up and broadcast your damn acne to the world! Use some lipstick to achieve!

And now, I mean, what’s the fucking point in pretending anymore, right? It’s all fucking useless. Did we actually think we were gonna find someone ON Valentine’s Day? Did we think someone we knew was just gonna confess their love for us today? Of course not! They all know us! We can dream and pray for love all we want but we know the truth, so what’s the point in hiding? Grab that bright pink mom fear lipstick and write ‘UNLOVABLE’ right on your forehead and tell the world. Tell the world.

At this point I had planned to make a dunce cap that read ‘STUPID SENTIMENTAL BITCH’ but I discovered that my head is too Goddamn big for any material in this house that could be turned into a hat. Because of course it is. Because I have to discover another flaw in the middle of this breakdown. So let’s just stop pretending, huh? Just go ahead and give yourself a nice big clown nose.

You played yourself for a fool. Fucking disgrace. Fucking clown. When the fuck is my chicken getting here.

It’s at this point you’re going to start blasting P!NK music as you force yourself to hold eye contact with your reflection. Maybe the night will turn around, Maybe I can still be happy- No. That’s not going to happen. That’s not going to happen ever. We’re all going to die the fuck alone. Look at what you’ve become:

Who could ever love this?!?!?! But guys, don’t worry, the looks almost complete! Just gather an array of junk food and alcohol and hop right on into your bathtub!

This is where you’re going to stay for the next 72 hours! Doesn’t that sound fun?! You’re gonna mope and eat too much and fantasize about celebrities or fictional characters falling in love with you and cry some more. While all your friends and family are out on romantic, sweet, Valentine’s Day dates with their beloved, you’re gonna be in a dark bathtub eating fried rice and reading fanfiction on your phone. Nice!

You try to salvage the night one more time by taking a great cleavage pic(or dic pic if thats what you're working with)-

What a #Look! But it doesn’t work. This is how Valentine’s Day will always go. Time to finish the look completely by turning the shower on and just standing under it with all your clothes still on

At least the water will touch your body without any complaints.

So yeah, guys, that’s it for my Lonely Valentine’s Day makeup tutorial! Hope you guys enjoyed, hope something spoke to you, hope you found yourself inspired! Let me know how the looks turned out for you!!!! Happy Valentine’s Day guys!!!! Love you all!!!!!!

#beauty guru #makeup #valentine's day #valentines day #transformation tuesday #molly mumbles

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eudaimonic-writes · 6 years ago

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Whisper Your Love - Chapter 1

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14005500/chapters/32251545

Masterpost

Some say life has a way of bringing you what you need, and that if you let it, happiness will come to you. Others take a more liberal approach, claim that to find happiness you must grab it by the balls and run with it... or something.

Richie Tozier has never been one to listen to what other people say, he prefers to think that the reality of life is somewhere in the middle; what you give is what you get, where you go is what you see, and what you find is what you take. Blah blah blah. So, when Richie's mom decides to leave his dad (about time) and move them out to Bumfuck Nowhere, Maine, Richie (ever the obedient son) grumbles unhappily the whole way there, but goes anyway. Despite his outward appearance and general attitude, Richie's always been a sort of "it is what you make of it" kind of guy, and so he decides, walking into Derry High on his first day of senior year, that he'll take whatever this shitstick of a school has to throw at him and he'll make it something worthwhile.

After all, when life gives you lemons...

"Make it your bitch." he mumbles, hiking his backpack higher on his shoulder as he curves past a group of younger girls who standing by the obnoxious statue of a man with a handlebar moustache and are actively staring at him, doing nothing to hide their obvious gossiping. He grins back, tossing out his signature wink as the girl's titter and hide behind their hands, huddling in towards each other in that way all high school girls seem to do.

Richie's early, he knows, because he's used to a longer walk to school in Cali and hadn't really accounted for the fact that Derry is half the size of his old town. Everything here seems to be half the size, even the cheerleaders, he thinks, eyes lingering on a particularly short boy in a baby blue cheer uniform, crossing the lawn in front of the school gates towards another group of people - mostly girls - dressed in baby blue. The group scream loudly as he gets within hugging distance, and soon the boy is lost among a sea of ponytails and blue pleated skirts, and Richie is left scowling at the unnecessary amount of cheer they seem to exude. Even on a Monday.

"Tiring, isn't it?" a voice calls from behind him, and Richie turns towards a girl with short auburn-red hair standing a short distance away from him, leant against the waist high brick wall surrounding the school's perimeter with an unlit cigarette in her hand. She smiles when Richie moves closer.

"I thought Cali cheerleaders were loud, but I guess nobody told me about small-town pride." Richie remarks. The girl tilts her head, a small smile playing at her lips as her eyes rove over Richie's form. A little closer up, Richie notices that the girl is taller than he expected - though, still not tall by his standards - and has freckles all over her face that she hasn't bothered to hide with any sort of makeup.

The girl seems to make up her mind about something, because soon she's nodding and patting the space on the wall next to her. Richie joins her, already pulling his packet of tobacco from his back pocket and his papers from his front. "Pride is one thing Derry High has far too much of." The girl says, placing her cigarette in her mouth and lighting it with a clipper. "I'm Beverly Marsh." she says around a mouth of smoke, holding out her hand.

Richie fumbles with the half-rolled cigarette he'd managed to accomplish as she spoke, shifting it to one hand so he can shake hers. "Richie Tozier."

"So, you're a roll-up kinda guy? Think you could teach me?" She asks offering her lighter once Richie is done. Richie takes it, quickly lighting up before passing it back without a word. He takes a moment to suck in a drag, breathing the smoke out through his teeth as he leans his head back, relishing in his first nicotine rush of the day.

"You've never rolled before?" He asks. She shakes her head. "Not even a joint?" Another shake. "Huh. You Maine kids are weird, everyone knows how to roll in Cali."

Beverly scoffs. "Okay, Mr. West Coast, can you teach this poor East Coast Kid your magical hipster ways?" She leans towards him as she says it, flicking the ceramic clown pin Richie has on the collar of his favourite denim jacket.

Richie laughs enthusiastically, deciding that Bev would make a good friend to have around. "Sure, Marsh, sure."

He can see a sparkle of mischief in Bev's eyes, but just as she opens her mouth to say something else, a sudden burst of loud music begins playing from across the lawn. Every pair of eyes in the courtyard turns towards the grass, and Richie's eyes widen at the sight. Small town pride indeed. The Cheerleaders Richie had clocked when he first entered school grounds were now in formation, a few already chanting along to the upbeat music as a crowd of boys in varsity jackets that hadn’t been there before gather off to the side. As Richie watches, time itself seems to slow as he spots the short boy again, a pair of pompoms in hand as a taller male holds him high in the air by his foot. There's a smile plastered on his face, but unlike a few of the other cheerleaders, his doesn't seem forced. His eyes crinkle prettily as he raises his arms along with the now indiscernible chanting, and Richie's eyes zero in on the way his lightly curled hair falls slightly into his face.

With a jolt, Richie realises that the chanting has stopped, as well as the cheerleader's movements, as one of the jocks steps out from the huddle to address the watching crowd. He's in the middle of some speech about the football team, and how they're definitely going to win the East Coast championships this year, but all Richie can focus on is the boy in baby blue, still smiling, and still perfectly balanced in the air. The speech must end, because there's a flurry of movement and the boy is gracefully dropping into the waiting arms of two cheerleaders below, and then stepping into the embrace of the jock - who must be the team captain - and promptly kisses him on the mouth.

Richie coughs and looks away, suddenly noticing that his cigarette has burned down to the filter and that he's in danger of adding to the litany of small burn scars on his fingertips if he doesn't smush it out against the wall. When Richie looks back up, the cheerleader is tucked under the arm of the jock, smiling at a taller boy with tight curly blonde hair and the most pristine collared shirt Richie has ever seen a person wear.

A chuckle from beside him brings his attention away, and Richie turns to Bev, refusing to let his ears burn red for being caught staring. "His name is Eddie, Derry's resident Gay Angel, his boyfriend, Chris, is the football captain."

Richie grunts, chastising himself internally for being so transparent, "bit cliché that, isn't it?"

Bev grins knowingly, tilting her head again in that same considering way she did earlier. Richie has yet to decide if he likes that look. “It would be, if it weren't for the whole, raging homosexuals thing."

Richie learns pretty quickly that Derry is both exactly how he imagine small town life, and exactly the opposite of how he imagine it - all at the same time. It's a bit of a dream town, if he's being honest. White picket fences everywhere, nice mom's in pastel blouses smiling from their pristine lawns, your local pastor living two doors down, the butcher just after that. It has that 'everyone knows everyone' vibe that he'd thought would make him feel like an outsider but, surprisingly, he fits in quite nicely with Beverly Marsh, and her friend, Bill Denbrough. He's still the 'new kid' (one day Bev points out the last 'new kid', a stocky boy with sandy brown hair sitting beside Eddie Kaspbrak at lunch, and says that it’s kind of redundant to call him that since he moved there more than five years ago. "He's just called Ben now," she'd explained, "We all kind of forget that he hasn't always been here like the rest of us."). So what Richie is learning, and what he'd expected, is that everybody here is nice, but what he hadn't expected about that, is that people are actually nice - not just smile at you when you walk by and then talk shit about you at the book club nice. He'd been fully prepared to have to shove himself back in the closet when he came here, and had been pleasantly surprised to find out that that wasn't the case; he'd asked Bev all the way back on that first day how everyone felt about their star quarterback being gay with the cheerleader, and Bev had looked at him like maybe she was reconsidering befriending him until he'd clarified that he is in fact very queer and was just concerned about how that was going to go down in the small-town life.

Apparently, an incident a few years back had rocked the people of Derry, and since then the town had all collectively decided that it was more important to protect their own than hold hostilities based on personal preferences. And thus, the small-town life Richie found himself in was one of "see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil".

And he was perfectly fine with that.

So, Richie sunk into his new life with an ease he hadn't necessarily expected.

Another of those things he didn't expect was quite how often he'd see Eddie around town - which, in retrospect, he really should've been expecting since the town is pint-sized and there's only so many places to hide - but Eddie really was everywhere. In his classes, Richie finds himself distracted by the way Eddie's light brown hair curls over the collar of his baby blue cheer uniform (and occasionally the adorable white knit cardigan he wears over it). In the library during the same free period, Richie spots him reading quietly just a table over from where Richie is pretending to do homework but really listening to music. At lunch, Eddie's table is close enough that Richie can sometimes hear him laugh. Even outside of school, Richie catches Eddie leaving the greengrocers with a paper bag full of veg, he sees Eddie at the cinema eating popcorn with his friends, and he sees Eddie in the street, walking with his headphones in and his nose in a book.

He doesn't mind, not really, but Richie knows his crush is as pointless as they come - and he really wishes Eddie wouldn't constantly be in his peripherals, because it doesn’t help the fact that he's also constantly on his mind.

Pointless. Richie thinks, two weeks into his first semester, as he's standing on the edge of what Bev's friend Bill described as The Rager (seriously, not A rager, The rager), at Derry's quarry and listening to shitty pop music, watching as Eddie and his boyfriend dance in the middle of a mismatched group of seniors. Richie had never partied with such a diverse group in his life, even in a diverse place like California, Richie had only ever partied with people like him; the fuck-ups, the ones who listen to fast music with too much guitar and smoked cigarettes like they breathed through them. In Cali, Richie had never ran in the same circles as the cheerleaders, or the jocks, or anyone else, so he never partied with them. When he agreed to go to The Rager with Bill and Bev, he hadn't accounted for the fact that Derry only has one social circle - and that is Derry Residents.

"What do you think?" Bill asks - Bev is God knows where doing God knows what, Richie had discovered within five hours of knowing the girl that she's even more of a free spirit than he is. You can’t hold her down or expect her to do anything, because she'll do exactly the opposite and then call you a loser for having any expectations at all. Bill's a cool guy, if a little quiet on the quiet side; he's told that the guy used to stutter pretty badly in middle-school, but that he'd grown out of it around 10th grade. He's tall (shorter than Richie, but go figure) with a floppy fringe just a shade less red than Bev's and slightly mysterious blue eyes that he likes to underline with a smudge of black. He's handsome, but he's not Richie's type.

"I think I've never been to a party where literally the whole school was invited before." Richie replies sardonically, frowning down at his empty solo cup. He was told when he arrived that they only had so many, so he had to keep it if he wanted any more drinks. "Or rules."

"Derry isn't really big enough to be divided... I s-suppose it wasn't the same in California?"

"Being in a clique is a prerequisite to being a Californian. If you get to high school and you haven't found your niche yet, you're pretty much a social pariah." Bill snorts, and Richie sighs. "I'm going to get another drink."

He doesn't notice as he's walking over, too absorbed in not walking straight into anyone's flailing limbs, that Eddie and his boyfriend had migrated over to the 'bar' (an overlarge table filled with bottles of assorted alcohol and mixers), but he sure notices once he finally reaches the table. He's standing on the opposite side, and he feels his limbs freezing up slightly when he hears the conversation currently going on between the two and another boy, dressed similarly to Chris. They're arguing, or, at least, Chris and the unknown (jock?) are arguing. Eddie's just looking away dejectedly, like he doesn't quite know what to do.

Richie places his cup on the table, reaching blindly for the bottle of Jack Daniels as his eyes flit from Eddie to where it rests, right by Eddie's arm. He feel's almost awkward, like if he gets too close he'll hurt Eddie - like Eddie is a butterfly and Richie is at risk of accidentally breaking one of his pretty wings if he so much as brushes him with his pinkie. Eddie moves slightly, and Richie has more room to grab the Jack, so he does, snatching it up quickly and pouring himself a good amount before placing it back. Eddie is grabbing onto Chris's arm pleadingly, his brown eyes wide with concern.

"C'mon. Baby, drop it, let’s go dance again." He mumbles. Richie swallows, he's never heard Eddie's voice this up-close and it’s possibly the sweetest sound he's ever heard. He feels a little resentment when Chris just shakes Eddie's arm off, like it's nothing, and Eddie only sighs, eyes sweeping along the table awkwardly. His eyes rove straight over Richie - like they always do - but Richie's heart skips a beat anyhow. He jerkily reaches for the bottle of Coke to cover up the fact that he's been standing there way too long, but once again, Eddie doesn't seem to notice or care.

Others have started to notice the argument now that Chris and the other guy have resorted to shoving, and Eddie tries once again to pull away his neanderthal of a boyfriend. He tugs on the back of his jacket, and groans, "Chris plea-" just then, the guy Chris is arguing with yells, shoving Chris harder than before, and Chris stumbles backwards into Eddie, sending the boy careening a few steps back before he loses balance on the uneven ground. Richie's heart skips another beat, another several beats, and curses whoever placed the stupid drinks table where they did because it is way too close to the edge of the cliff - the edge of the cliff that, with a surprised squeal, Eddie has just disappeared off of.

There's a collective gasp from the crowd, someone yells Eddie's name, and Richie barely has time to take in the sound of a splash from down below, and Chris leaning over the edge of the cliff before he's throwing off his leather jacket onto the table and diving off the cliff after Eddie.

He briefly wonders if he'll ever be the type of person to consider the consequences of this actions before the icy water is hitting him full on and shit this is nothing like the water in California - which is warm. Richie break's the surface with a gasp, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes and taking a moment to take in his surroundings. A few feet away he can hear Eddie thrashing in the water, his breaths gasping, and from above he can hear the distant screams of the entire senior class of Derry High. Richie ignores them, paddling over to Eddie and snaking an arm around his waist.

"I've got you." He murmurs, hoping Eddie can hear him. Eddie's thrashing slows and his arm grips around Richie's neck like a lifeline. "I've got you, Eddie, c'mon we need to get to shore."

"Oh my God." Eddie yelps, and Richie can hear the fear in his voice. In the dark it's hard to tell where the shore is, but he can just make it out from the light of the moon and the several dozen flashlights from above that only just reach the quarry. Richie begins to swim in that direction, ignoring the chill of the water and the way Eddie seems to drag through the water. Eddie appears to be attempting to swim, but he's mostly just making a lot of noise and kicking Richie in the shin with his weird doggy paddling, and Richie is suddenly glad for his rash thinking when he realises that Eddie probably can't swim. He could have drowned.

They make it to the shore, and Eddie's one armed grip on Richie’s neck loosens as he sinks to the dusty ground, shaking all over. Beverly is right there when they make it, holding Richie's jacket out and Richie takes it without thinking, draping it over Eddie's quaking shoulders. The boy seems out of it, huddling into the material with eyes that are unfocused and teeth that are chattering so loud Richie's own jaw hurts - or maybe that's because his teeth are chattering too.

"Oh my God is he okay?" Beverly asks.

"I'm not sure." He tells her, crouching back down in front of the smaller boy and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, his own breathing is loud in his ears, adrenaline still coursing through his veins, and he's barely aware of the sounds of several pairs of feet heading towards them from above. "Eddie? Eddie are you alright?" Eddie doesn't respond and Richie does the only thing he can think of; he reaches out and places his hand on Eddie's neck, turning his head so they can make eye contact. His eyes are out of focus at first, but soon they seem to zero in on Richie and stay there. "Eddie?" He repeats, trying to get over the jolt of satisfaction he feels at finally being noticed by Eddie Kaspbrak. Now is not the time, nor the situation, to get sappy over a dumb crush. Eddie almost died. "Are you okay? Eddie?"

Eddie still doesn't answer, but his eyes are wide and clear. He's still shaking but his breathing is less erratic, his panic seemingly calming down. He's looking at Richie like he's some kind of saint, and Richie, inappropriately, takes this moment to really take in Eddie Kaspbrak up close. Short answer: he's beautiful. Long answer: his hair is plastered to his head, though the curls are still evident in the way the strands bunch and form, he has freckles over his nose and cheekbones, and those, coupled with his unnecessarily large doe eyes make him look youthful and pixie-like. His skin, though currently pale from the cold and near-death experience, is tanned and clear, and his lips look so soft and kissable as they are, wet parted slightly as Eddie pants through them. As Richie watches, enraptured, they widen, as if Eddie is about to speak but, before he can, Richie feels a hand on his chest, none-too gently pushing him aside.

"Eddie, oh my God, Eddie, I am so sorry, baby, so sorry!" Chris is saying. Richie gapes at him for a moment, but then he looks at Eddie and Eddie's eyes have followed his and any insults he has for the dumb jock fly straight out of his head. Eddie isn't looking at Chris, his boyfriend, he's looking at Richie. His mouth is closed now, like whatever words he was going to say have lost their meaning, and Richie really wishes Chris could've been just a little slower navigating the path down to the water's edge.

Chris is moving, and Richie thinks he's going to pull Eddie into a hug but then he just pushes Richie's jacket off of Eddie's shoulders and replaces it with his own - and that’s when Eddie seems to snap out of it. His eyes flashing back to his boyfriend and his teeth chattering anew. Chris picks Richie's jacket up off the ground and hands it to him, and it's only by sheer force of will that Richie takes it without making a dumb quip that'll come across bitter - because he's bitter but it would be weird for him to come across like it. "Hey, thanks man, I'll take it from here." Chris mutters, barely even looking in Richie's direction. Typical.

Richie says nothing once again, and only thinks a little bit about how much he'd like to kick Chris' head in before he turns his gaze once more to Eddie, and finds, for the second time that night, Eddie looking back at him. Richie wishes Eddie would say something, anything at all, but Eddie only blinks, and then he's looking down, and Richie huffs, taking that for what it is and standing so that he can leave.

The walk home is a cold one, and Bev and Bill are only there half of the way to fill his thoughts with insults about Chris and the other neanderthal before they're each splitting off in the direction of their own houses, Bev with a hug and Bill with a simple wave.

For the rest of the way home, Richie's thoughts are filled with every possible word Eddie could have said to him, had Chris not intervened.

Eddie may not have gotten to speak to him, but he saw him. He looked at him. And in that moment, everything changed.

The next school day is a doozy, Richie is approached by several people proclaiming him the new hero of Derry High (better than new kid of Derry High) and clapping him on the back. He sees Chris in the short break between second and third period, and receives a bright smile that some may consider charming but Richie just considers asshole-ish, and another brief thanks.

Yeah, you're welcome dickhead. I only saved your ass from accidentally drowning your boyfriend.

But he doesn't see Eddie. He's beginning to wonder if the boy is even in school - it would make sense for him to take a few days to recover after a fright like that - but then fifth period study hall rolls around and Richie spots Eddie at the library sitting in his usual place at the table one over from his, huddled in a pastel pink woollen jumper he's certain is probably non-regulation with his cheer uniform, with his nose, as always, buried in a book. It's a paperback this time, and white, but that’s about all Richie can tell from such a distance away.

Eddie glances up as Richie is watching, and their eyes catch. Eddie smiles, and Richie nods, trying not to die at the cute way Eddie's cheeks dimple on one side, because his smile is lopsided when he smiles with his mouth closed. Adorable.

This happens a few times over the course of the hour long period, Richie will glance up from pretending to be doing his trig homework (as he always has) and Eddie will be looking right back (as has never happened before). Five minutes before the end of period bell is due to chime, Richie glances up and Eddie stands, Richie thinks for one heart-stopping second that Eddie is going to come over, but instead, Eddie briefly glances in his direction and then makes his way over to the librarian's desk. He returns a moment later with a piece of paper, that he folds carefully, four times. As Richie watches, Eddie reaches into his bag by his feet and pulls out a non-distinct black ballpoint pen and begins to scribble on the paper. He looks up when he's done, and Richie quickly looks down and pretends he hasn't been staring. A tapping noise brings his attention back to Eddie, and Richie is once again shocked to see Eddie looking at him - this time with intent.

He's tapping the end of his capped pen onto the piece of paper, lying flat on the desk, and when he notices he has Richie's attention he picks it up and tucks it in-between the pages of the book he'd been reading before flicking it closed. He bites his lip as his gaze lingers on Richie once more, as if he's trying to say something, but he only drops his pen back into his backpack and slings it onto his shoulder, and with one last meaningful glance, he saunters over to the library doors just as the first bell chimes.

Richie's spirits droop a little - he'd really thought Eddie was going to finally talk to him.

The tables around him are emptying, and Richie collects his stuff as students begin to filter out of the library. It's then that Richie notices it; Eddie's book is still there. Richie glances around, though he isn't sure why since he's not exactly doing anything wrong, and he rounds his own table to get to Eddie's vacated one. He'll never admit it but his heart is racing, and it only gets quicker when he picks up the abandoned book.

The Year of Magical Thinking it reads, and up close Richie can see how loved the book is. There's a faint dog ear on the cover page, like it had been in and out of bags or accidentally dropped, and the spine is bent but not totally cracked. There's no plastic wrap covering, like the rest of the library books have, and Richie's suspicions that this is a personal copy are confirmed when he opens the front page and finds no library card. This is Eddie's book.

Suddenly, Richie remembers Eddie placing the folded up piece of paper he'd been scratching on into the book before he left, and the meaningful glances suddenly make sense. Eddie didn't leave the book by accident, he left it for Richie. The late bell rings as Richie tips the book, allowing it to fall open naturally to the page with the paper inside it, and he keeps his thumb between the pages to keep it from closing back up as he reads the note Eddie left him.

butterfly garden, 16:00 - E

Richie's grin feels like it may be splitting his face, "yes!" he whoops, making sure to keep his voice quiet as students for the next study hall period begin to filter into the library. He's going to be late, so he quickly slips the note back into the book, but as he does so, something catches his eye - a bright red mark on the page where Eddie had underlined something. Curious, Richie reads the words Eddie had highlighted, wondering if they were perhaps important as to why Eddie had left the note on this page, or if it had just been a coincidence.

"Life changes in the instant. The ordinary instant."

Richie thinks he might get it, the way he felt back at the quarry when Eddie first noticed him - like something in the air had changed - but he's not sure if that's what Eddie was thinking about when he underlined these words. The book looks old, well loved, and Eddie very well could have underlined these words a long time ago. Richie glances at his watch and realises he’s nearly ten minutes late to his next period, and quickly drops the book into his backpack before he can waste any more time deliberating.

Whatever Eddie meant by it, he's pretty sure he agrees. Life does change in the ordinary instant.

Chapter 2

Masterpost

#so like this is still a WIP #and for anyone who has been reading it on Ao3 I do intend to update asap!#i just got super swamped with uni work and then like died for a good month afterwards #im currently looking for a job and tryna catch up with all of my friends from home while im here so idk what my schedule will be like buttt #i'll be back very soon i promise im already 4k into the next chap #also this is now my official tumblr hi hello #reddie #reddie fic #reddie fanfic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it #wyl #whisper your love

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snaurus · 7 years ago

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UPDATE: Prescription (1/2)

Pairings: None Ratings: T Categories: Angst/Friendship/Humor Warnings: Blood, Illness, Violence

Maybe getting sick was just the thing Noctis needed.

I’m doing something a little different this time around. Since this story turned into an absolute beast and spanned over twenty pages, I split it in half to make it a tad easier for @glyphenthusiast to edit. That said, I want to archive it when it’s completed, so until then I’ll be posting the parts here on my writing blog and posting the finished version on my AO3 account later! Lucky for my Tumblr followers, right?

Also, sick!Noct anon from awhile ago, if you’re still following this blog here’s that story I was foreshadowing for you! Although, this fic turned into an excuse to write my chocobo!headcanons for the bros and to explore certain aspects of Noctis’ character that weren’t really touched on in the game. Still, I hope this will appease the whump lovers in each of us. :’)

"Do you see anything?" Noctis shouted. He'd cupped both hands around his mouth so Prompto could hear him better. His friend was balanced on top of Ignis' shoulders, who in turn stood on Gladiolus' shoulders. The three of them had formed a human ladder to reach a potential opening in the cave ceiling, after Noctis failed to warp onto the too soft roof.

"I can't tell; there's no sunlight!" Prompto yelled back.

"We've been here for going on thirty-seven hours. No doubt it's merely nighttime," Ignis said. He gripped Prompto by his calves when the other man almost overbalanced them by standing on his tippy-toes to better access the ceiling. "Keep checking!"

"Wait. I feel a breeze! And it smells like…pine trees? I think I've found us an exit!" There were the sounds of shuffling, and then clods of mud toppled down as Prompto presumably dug a bigger hole.

Gladiolus sputtered as some of the dirt ended up on his face. "Hey! Next time warn a guy."

"Oh, right. Look out below," Prompto said, seconds after he knocked another large portion of the roof loose. Gladiolus stumbled as he tried to avoid the clutter raining down on him, which caused Ignis to grunt and attempt to offset the movement. "Gladio, could you not?"

"Could you not mess around up there?" he snapped in return. "What are you even doing?"

"Almost…got it…ahah!" Prompto must have grabbed onto something because his feet left Ignis' shoulders completely. His boots wriggled and then disappeared into the ceiling. More debris fell before a tree root poked out of the opening.

Ignis motioned Noctis to climb up, but Gladiolus shook his head. "Specs, you next. Scope out the other side and then I'll boost him up after you."

For once there wasn't an argument; the prospect of the unknown had Ignis convinced. He waved his hands around until he caught the root on the third pass and pulled himself through. They waited until the advisor's faint affirmative carried down to them.

Gladiolus clasped both hands together and bent at the knees. "Alley-oop, Noct. Just like we've practiced."

Noctis planted his foot in the center of the other man's palms and rested a hand on his broad shoulder. With all his strength, Gladiolus tossed him upwards, with Noctis also pushing off to gain a little more air. He latched onto the lead with one hand, dangling precariously. He was able to take hold with his other hand at the last minute. It was difficult to shimmy the rest of the way, but just when Noctis thought he was losing his grip again he crawled inside the muddy tunnel. Two sets of hands took him by the wrists and tugged him the rest of the way out.

With their combined efforts, they ripped the root off the tree and lowered it far enough for Gladiolus to grab on his own. At one point Noctis worried Gladiolus may become stuck, but after several heave-hos and a threat from the man himself, he popped free.

"Do you guys know what this means? We're finally liberated!" Prompto cheered, once the group was all gathered together. He dramatically fell to his knees. "I never thought we'd escape that soggy dungeon! Just look at these bushes, and flowers, and…nature! I could kiss it and the sky for being so dry— Ack!"

Just as Prompto was about to finish singing praises, a raindrop decided to fall into his eye. He brought a hand up a little too hard to blot his face and smacked himself in the nose by mistake.

"Tch. Yeah, real 'dry'," Gladiolus deadpanned. He tugged the sullied neckline of his tank top up to wipe off his face, although it was pointless with the incoming storm. Nevermind he smeared the dirt worse, rather than removed any.

"Betrayer," Prompto seethed. He shook a fist at the clouds and it poured harder on him. "Aw, man."

Noctis laughed at his friend's antics. Maybe he did so too hard since the tail end of his chuckle turned into coughing. No one else seemed to take notice except Ignis, whose head inclined in Noctis' direction. He asked, "Noct, are you all right?"

"M'fine," he said quickly. Noctis walked over to Prompto and grabbed him by the angry-fist to pull him to his feet. "Come on, let's return to camp."

"Where even is camp? After those creeps—"

"Goblins," Ignis corrected.

"After those assholes caused that rockslide and blocked us in I've been turned around." Sensing Ignis’ confusion, Prompto pointed to a yellow mystery patch on his cheek and said, "Look it, I swear one of'em spit on me, okay? So I'm not calling them by their proper name for as long as I hold a grudge, which is forever. From now on they are anything except Goblins to me."

"You just said their name," Gladiolus indicated.

"No, I said their names are 'anything except Goblins'—"

Noctis sighed and said, "This is stupid" and reached inside his pants pocket for the chocobo whistle. They'd been stuck searching that ancestral tomb lead (which they could now confirm was false) for less than the five allotted days they'd rented birds from Wiz. Their rides should be roving somewhere waiting for them.

After one use of the whistle, a white blur dropped from a stony ridge and landed heavily at Noctis' back. His chocobo kicked up twigs and leaves as she flapped her wings. She squawked impatiently, so Noctis gave her a big hug and several deep neck rubs in apology.

"Sorry for keeping you, Bon Bon," he said. He'd tested a lot of other nicknames, but she'd refused to respond to anything else but the candy he'd offered her on the sly the first time they met. And ever since he greeted her with the gesture, the bird seemed to expect a hug every time, like it was her just reward. The one instance Noctis forgot, she pecked him on top of his head and taken a couple hairs as payment.

Ignis' chocobo arrived right after, only second to Noctis' own ride in speed. The pastel blue fowl was exceptionally limber and would make a large profit in racing competitions, if Ignis were ever so inclined as to participate regularly. For now, he tended to limit his sessions to scouting ahead during excursions and not much else.

Last were Prompto's and Gladiolus' chocobos. Both were temperamental beasts, which might be why they were a suited mated pair. Gladiolus' more so than Prompto's, although the bodyguard had a ritual to settle matters.

He took the bird by the reins now and looked him dead in one eye, asking, "We gonna have a problem this time or what?" Gladiolus waited for the chocobo to blink, once, and then nodded. He gave the crown of feathers a quick ruffle. "Attaboy."

As they mounted their rides, Prompto cooed and pet his bird's front. "You coming along, girl? You coming along? Yeah, I can tell—" He stumbled as her wings flapped in his face. "Sorry, sorry! I forgot how sensitive you are on the chest, sorry. You're still beautiful and precious and I love you. Hey Gladio, do you think the chicks will look like Silky? If they do, I hope they're just as bright a yellow as she is."

Gladiolus hummed. "Maybe. Nothing wrong with another red Drumstick, though."

Prompto made a face as he settled onto the saddle and ushered his chocobo along, keeping pace with Bon Bon’s idle gait. "Well if they do, then they're definitely not sharing his namesake! Why couldn't you stick with something like…Vlad the Impaler or William the Conqueror?"

"Where do you come up with this stuff? William? Nobody has a name like that."

"I'm an expert, okay? I put effort and consideration into them. See, I've already got Silky's and Drumstick's baby names picked out. A girl should be Meryl and a boy should be Irons; they're foolproof and the same ones I'm gonna use when I have kids," he boasted.

"You're naming your offspring after chocobos?" Gladiolus asked incredulously.

"What? No! My future children are inspiring the present— It doesn't matter," Prompto said, sulking. "If you're so smart, then what have you decided for yours? Come on, out with it! I bet a stud like you has the next generation of Amicitia's all figured out."

Gladiolus snorted. "Not me. I'll be awhile yet, although the way my sister tells it she's got that all covered. Iris is convinced she won't stop until she has a starter set."

Noctis and Ignis hadn't been involved with the exchange, but they joined Prompto in giving him peculiar looks. They knew the other man's disposition on having children until the future of Lucis was settled, but this tidbit was new. Gladiolus shrugged. "My mother's side of the family is predisposed to having one after the other. My uncle had a boy and a girl, too."

"Huh. What about you, Noct?" The prince tensed at Prompto's question, trying not to appear alarmed at the change of focus in the conversation. He stayed quiet, as if he hadn't heard the inquiry, but his friend was persistent. The gunner sidled his chocobo closer and elbowed Noctis in the arm. "Noooct? You still plan to marry Lady Lunafreya, right? I'm sure you must be set to have tons of heirs."

"Perish the thought," Ignis jested in his place. "It is said the child reflects the parent, magnified. I'm not certain the world is ready for all that increased mischief."

"Whatever," he mumbled, torn on the matter. Noctis was relieved not to talk about his future, especially in terms of matrimony and the responsibilities therein, but he could have done without the teasing. "Sometimes kids are the opposite. Maybe yours will be way more rebellious than you, ya know."

"All the more reason for me to adopt," Ignis said matter-of-factly. It was his turn to earn a couple surprised stares. The scrutiny must have gotten to him because Ignis turned in his saddle to catch their ogling. "Surely it does not seem so farfetched? The war has made no shortages of orphans. It would be a privilege to take in one or more such children and provide them a stable upbringing."

In a softened tone, Prompto is surprisingly the first to say, "That'd be really super awesome of you to do."

"Someday, yes, I suppose it would be 'really super awesome'," Ignis said. Despite the straight-laced way he repeated Prompto’s words, the edges of his smile were apparent.

Talk thankfully shifted to more idle subjects, allowing Noctis to fade into the background. The longer they traveled the wetter and colder he became, which lessened his willingness to want to participate in conversation. Soon he was soaked through, his uniform giving up the ghost after almost two days of abuse. Noctis' shaking would have loosened his grasp of the reins were it not for the fact his fingers had frozen in place.

It was also fortunate that Gladiolus was an expert trekker. During the downpour, it became impossible to see the lingering smoke trails from the campfire, but the guardsman's sense of direction was impeccable no matter the conditions. Eventually the telltale glow of the Oracle's wards shined through a thicket of trees.

The rain gave way to drizzle as they ascended the outcropping where the group made their campsite, then tapered off completely. Everything was still soaked. They'd left the chairs out, never intending to be gone this long. The weather report hadn't predicted a storm when they headed toward the supposed royal crypt.

While Noctis dismounted, a wave of dizziness struck him and he leaned into his chocobo for support. He'd assumed the exertion from the trip through the dungeon was temporary, but it'd been wishful thinking. Noctis startled as a gloved hand took the reins from his slackening grip.

The prince pushed away from Bon Bon to see Ignis standing there. His own blue chocobo hovered behind him, its reins in Ignis' other hand. Noctis stared his advisor in the eye, keeping his expression as neutral as possible.

"Go get changed, if you'd like. I can take care of Bon Bon in your stead," Ignis offered.

Gladiolus had no qualms stripping right there, and while he had the right idea, Noctis was less of an exhibitionist. He accepted Ignis' proposal, but opted to duck inside the tent to retrieve a new set of clothes. Noctis found the least offensive smelling towel shoved into a corner and used that to rub off the sweat and grime. He still felt grungy afterwards, however, it was too chilly to risk washing off in a nearby lake. He'd have to settle for the haphazard wipe down until they were ready to resume their journey and find a motel or caravan with a shower.

Noctis searched his duffel bag and wore whatever he found first. There was no reason for being fashionable. A pair of jeans, long-sleeve shirt, and pillow vest were thrown over a fresh set of undergarments. He'd worn the different attire earlier in the week, but they were an improvement compared to the alternative.

"You almost done?" Prompto asked. His shadow shown through the material of the tent.

Noctis rumbled his assent and crawled out to give his friend a turn. In the time he'd been inside, Ignis had dressed down. He'd stripped his jacket to reveal his arms in a gray undershirt. He was hard at work stewing something in a cast iron pot over the portable grill. Noctis left him to it.

By the campfire, Gladiolus had settled in while just wearing his boxers. He was talking into his cell phone. Now that they were outside with a reliable signal and at the safety of camp, it sounded like he was updating his sibling on their return status. Noctis joined him by the warm fire, sidestepping Drumstick and Silky. They had cuddled together behind Gladiolus' folding chair, the red chocobo preening the crest feathers on top of his mate's head.

Someone had draped a towel over his seat, similarly to Gladiolus', so he flopped into his own chair. He slumped to access the device in the deep recesses of his pants pocket. He'd transferred all his personal effects after he'd switched clothes. There were no messages, so while Noctis waited for dinner he played some games on his phone.

Noctis didn't realize how drowsy he was until a couple insistent prods from Bon Bon's beak roused him. He turned and she was just there, when a moment ago he could have sworn she was wandering the region below. She tended to scour their resting places, like a protective mother guarding her nest, but she was more demanding of his attention today.

He gave his chocobo some extra loving strokes to her neck in hopes of appeasing her. She lowered her giant head, it taking up most of his torso, and gave Noctis a mouthful of feathers with her forced closeness.

"What is with you?" he asked, more bemused than anything else. His throat felt prickly, but he laughed at Bon Bon's behavior.

"Chocobos have an innate ability to sense certain changes in their masters. They're akin to some pets, in that respect," Ignis said. He'd come up behind him, carrying plastic mugs with thick handles. One he passed to Gladiolus. The other he held with both hands, cupping the container until Noctis could accept the meal.

Noctis clenched his jaw tight, not wanting to give his advisor an opening to comment further on his condition. Ignis was just worrying worse than usual. There was nothing going on.

A handful of gysahl greens materialized in Noctis' fingers, summoned from the armiger. He tossed them off the side of the campsite to distract Bon Bon. She chirped loudly, her tail quivering, and chased after the treat.

Ignis took the opportunity to hand him his food – some kind of warm, broth-y soup. Mixed in were a few chunks of carrots and celery. He set the mug in his lap and ate without a word, concentrating on picking around the vegetables. The vitamins were in the liquid, anyway, so no need to eat the mushy, nasty parts. It soothed his throat going down.

Bon Bon returned. Her feathers were puffed up, giving Noctis the impression she may be a tad peeved at his trickery. She hunkered down and leaned heavily against his chair; her much larger body threatened to topple him over. She kweh-ed incessantly. In apology, Noctis fed her his extra carrots and stroked her with an absent free hand.

"D'aw! Isn't that adorable?" Prompto said with sugary sweetness. After exiting the tent, he'd decided to shoot some pictures of Silky. He was documenting her progress when he noticed the prince with Bon Bon. Noctis flipped him off before Prompto could take a photo, ruining the shot he tried to take. "Hey! That's not very cute."

"I'm going to bed," Noctis announced. He was already full, despite the small amount he'd managed to eat. The remainder of his meal went to his chocobo.

He returned to the tent, ignoring everyone's stares. He shut the flap in their faces. With no one there as a witness, Noctis let the exhaustion take over. He collapsed on his front, toeing off his shoes, and wasn't awake long enough to do much else. The next morning came and went. Noctis knew this because he noticed when Prompto clambered awake, and his friend was always the last to get up after Gladiolus and Ignis. He turned over and lazed in his sleeping bag. Eventually, a coughing fit demanded his attention more. After hacking into a fist for five minutes, there was no way Noctis was comfortable enough to return to sleep.

He reluctantly went outside and hissed as the sun blinded him. Noctis hadn't expected the sun to be so high in the sky; it was much later in the day then even he was usually permitted to sleep in. He raised a hand to shield his eyes, then decided better of it. There was a beat up old hat stuffed in his luggage that Navyth had gifted him after his first successful catch at Neeglyss Pond, and Noctis hunted for it now. Setting the headgear in place, he attempted to leave the tent again.

It was stifling and humid outside, when yesterday it was freezing. The effort to remove his extra layers of clothes was more than Noctis was willing to expel. He left them as-is.

Gladiolus was the sole person in sight, along with three of the four chocobos. Drumstick and Silky were still nestled together behind his chair. As soon as Noctis made a reappearance, Bon Bon waddled back from the edge of the woods.

He mumbled a "good morning" and crumpled into a chair. The walk from the tent to the campfire couldn't have been more than a couple steps, but Noctis felt like he'd run a marathon. His body ached everywhere.

"Good afternoon," Gladiolus stated. He was honing a sword and didn't look up from the task. At least he’d opted to wear some pants today.

Noctis scowled and closed his eyes. "Where's Prompto and Iggy?"

"Ignis wanted to scavenge for some herbs, since you're sick and all. Prompto went with to expedite the gathering process," he informed him. The offhand way he said it grated on Noctis' last nerve, but that explained why Gladiolus was here. Even if it was for a stupid reason.

"I'm not sick," Noctis grouched. His throat betrayed him then, his voice cracking on the last word. It stung to talk. A cooler was by his feet and he reached inside for a bottle of water. Noctis was just parched from oversleeping or he hadn't hydrated himself enough during the previous trip. Whatever. He was fine.

Just then, the rest of their group happened to return. They'd doubled up on Ignis' chocobo, his advisor behind the reins. He slowed their ride to a stop. Noctis rounded on him before Ignis even stepped foot on the ground. "Did you tell them I was sick?"

Ignis came up short, maybe at the sharp tone or at the accusation. Prompto leaned around him and answered, instead. "Huh, you're sick? I mean, I kind of figured, since you were boiling hot all night. And you're sort of pale…"

"No. I'm not," he snapped.

Gladiolus said, "Get off'em. I determined that you're unwell on my own."

"I said I'm not sick!"

That's when Noctis passed out. The sounds of Bon Bon squawking in distress followed him into darkness. There was a faint beeping sound. It was enough that Noctis couldn't ignore the disturbance. His eyelids clenched tighter together against the intrusion. He rolled over and hid under the covers more to try and block out the electronic noises.

The sounds cutoff, to be replaced with the rustling of bed sheets. "Noct? Psst, Noct!"

He buried deeper into the blankets, but the person was adamant.

"Hey, you awake?"

"No," Noctis mumbled.

"Dude!" It had to be Prompto making that racket. Nobody else was this excitable. Noctis frowned and refused to budge. He hoped his friend would take the hint and leave him alone, but a hand on his shoulder gave his body a couple shakes. He asked, "How're you feeling?"

"Tired," he stressed, wanting to spur him into silence.

"You passed out! How can you still be tired?"

That didn't seem right. Noctis remembered… Well. Musing on it, he didn't recollect much of anything. Had he already woken up? He vaguely recalled that he might have met up with Gladiolus, but afterwards was such a hazy blur.

"I don't…" Noctis tried to sit up, but his arms shook too much as he pushed himself upright. Prompto hurried to steady him, both palms flat on his back. If it were anyone else Noctis would have brushed off the contact, the area being sensitive, but the sensation of comfort broke through his revere.

In a somber tone, Prompto said, "Hey. Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy."

"What happened?" He dropped to an elbow and watched Prompto over his shoulder, the blanket covering the lower portion of his face.

"I'm not really sure? This morning Ignis randomly wanted to go plant picking, and when we got back you weren't talking sense. Then you collapsed."

Some of what Prompto recited came back to him in stages. Noctis ducked his head in shame as he recalled the way he lashed out at Gladiolus and the allegations he flung at Ignis. To Prompto, who'd sparingly been exposed to Noctis at his lowest, the severe lapse in his mood would appear confusing.

"You had us all kinds of worried," Prompto said, almost hushed. It garnered Noctis' attention, regardless. He adjusted his shoulders in nervous habit, and his friend removed his hands like he was burned. Noctis couldn't have felt guiltier.

"This just happens sometimes. It's no big deal."

"Um, this never happened when we were in school! I'd remember if you passed out in the middle of math class. The only time you were gone was when your dad summoned you to the Citadel for those top secret—" Prompto's expression went blank. The gunner was so expressive, animated even when idle, so he knew Prompto was serious when he went still in contemplation.

"You weren't in council meetings all those times you had to skip school, were you?" he asked directly.

The words wouldn't form; all he could do was nod in confirmation. His friend moved beside him, and in a panic Noctis scrambled to halt Prompto from leaving. His worrying was unfounded. Prompto was reaching out to him again. Noctis met him halfway, his fingertips catching on the other man's bracelets. He was relieved Prompto wasn't angry enough to flounce off, but Noctis wanted to make sure he didn't.

"Ever since—" the Marilith attack, but he couldn't put a name to his childhood misery, even after the creature's demise at his hands. The monster haunted his nightmares for years and would continue to haunt him for the near future. "—my accident as a kid, the doctors said my immune system was weakened."

Saying 'weakened' made his stomach churn worse. Admitting that to anyone, most of all Prompto, hurt worse than the illness wracking his body. He owed it to his friend, though. Noctis had kept this hidden from him long enough.

"Back then, I'd get sick all the time. It was like I had no natural defenses left in me. We tried everything: gut therapy, boosters, remedies. Shit like that."

"When you were in Tenebrea?" Prompto asked. He whispered, as if afraid Noctis would stop if he interrupted.

"Luna's mom… Her magic was all that helped," Noctis confirmed. At least, until the queen couldn't anymore. Her treatments ended with the invasion of Niflheim. That was another painful reminder, one which he wasn't equipped to delve into, even with Prompto.

"As I got older I didn't get sick as often, but when I did… It was better if the public didn't know." Better if his best and only friend outside the palace didn't know how pathetic he was, but what Noctis actually confessed was, "That's what my dad and his staff concluded, anyway. It'd be risky if anyone found out how easy a target I was during those times."

"I'm sorry," he said, surprising the prince. Prompto shifted on his knees, but kept his hand firmly in place, under Noctis'. "That totally sucks. It must have been miserable and lonely for you. I know you said it was dangerous to tell me, but I am sorry that I didn’t do more for you."

"No, I should have told you," Noctis said in his own apologetic way.

"Nah, no biggie. I'll just have to make up for all the lost opportunities!" Prompto pulled away, but only enough to lie against the prince's side. He stayed on top of the layers of blankets and sleeping bags, but shared Noctis' pillow. Noctis should have protested – he was feverish and resembled a swamp. Nevermind Prompto could catch his illness, too, by such close proximity.

Instead, Noctis transferred onto his opposite side and watched as Prompto resumed playing games on his phone. It'd been what was generating the strange noises earlier. He watched for awhile, offering idle commentary in the forms of suggestions or jibes. He felt fatigued from his prior confession, however, and without his noticing he dozed off.

#noctis lucis caelum #ignis stupeo scientia #gladiolus amicitia #prompto argentum #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #ff15 #ffxv #final fantasy #video games #prescription #my writing #snarechan's writing #UPDATE

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artificialqueens · 8 years ago

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Caught Up In Obscenity (Rajila) - Circe

AN: Halleloo I’m back bitches

I saw Raja and Manila together with my own two eyes and so thought in celebration I should dig up this thing that I wrote ages ago. I have not entirely abandoned AQ, but I frequent it less, so this is not a return, merely a revisiting. Never say never, however.

There were two prompts ages ago: same-season friends-with-benefits and the more specific “people notice that Raja has started wearing mostly Manila merchandise”. This is the love child of both, with a side order of Raven because I’m also kinda Ravja trash apparently. It is definitely not my best work. Sorry.

Title from Ms Luzon herself because I’m unoriginal.

- Circe x

000

“Are you gonna hang around for a bit? That guy over there said he’d buy us shots if we do one off his body.”

“Nah, I have an early start tomorrow. I’m just gonna go home.”

“Boo, you whore! This is fourth time in a row you’ve blown me off in the last two weeks. Are you sick of me or something?”

“As if I could ever get sick of you, bitch. No, I’m just tired. I don’t wanna risk over-sleeping.”

“God, you’re getting old.”

“That’s what happens when you hit 40, Rave.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Don’t be a bitter bitch. It’s nothing personal, I swear.”

“Yeah yeah, grandpa. You’d better run back to your rocking chair and your knitting, you’re gonna miss Golden Girls.”

Raja sighs heavily. She doesn’t like doing this. This is the only niggling doubt in the grand scheme of things.

“Are you ok? I know you’re old but this isn’t like you. Are you depressed? Are you having a mid-life crisis?”

“No, David. I’m fine I promise. I’ve been in drag for 5 hours and I have to be up in 5 hours for a photo shoot and I’m sobering up and I’m tired. I just wanna go to bed tonight. Have fun though, just don’t let Martin find out what you did for free shots.”

Raven smiles tightly as Raja leans in to kiss her cheek, and frowns at her retreating back as she winds her way through the crowd towards the door.

000

“So I’ll be in Brazil for like two weeks so this’ll be the last time I’ll see you until next month.” Karl says, like he’s thinking aloud. The weight of his head is warm against Sutan’s shoulder. Sutan wonders if he realises he is counting his ribs with his fingertips and stirring up the warmth in Sutan’s lower stomach all over again.

“That’s probably for the best. Raven’s getting suspicious.”

“Huh?” Karl’s fingers pause in their pointillism patterns across Sutan’s chest. His low voice rumbles through Karl’s temple where it’s pressed against his skin.

“I turned down body shots off a Marco Marco model and apparently that was out of character.”

Karl laughs; a bright sound. Sutan frowns as he feels it somewhere near his lungs.

“Well I don’t think she’ll guess. She knows I’m not your type.” Karl tilts his head up to look wistfully at the light fitting.

Sutan frowns again but there’s nothing negative behind it. He follows Karl’s eyeline to the single cobweb hanging from the light. “I don’t have a type.”

“Yeah you do.” Says Karl easily.

Sutan glances at his phone. Three missed calls from his agent. Great. He sighs and pulls himself out of Karl’s embrace and off the bed.

He pulls on his underwear and runs a hand through his gray hair, longer now than it has been in years. Karl rolls onto his side to admire the smooth expanse of his back and marvel at his best friend’s beauty like he usually does at this time in the morning.

“Fuck. I need to stop coming here in drag.” Says Sutan, sifting through the pile of his clothes. “I can’t walk out of here in a bra and robe”

“Fuck gender roles, Raja.” Says Karl flamboyantly from where he is still splayed across the bed.

“Seriously. You’re gonna have to lend me clothes again.”

Karl groans into the mattress. “I just got my shorts back from you, and you’re gonna have to borrow them again because you sure aren’t gonna fit any of my pants.”

“Sorry, Heather. I didn’t consider practicalities.”

Karl groans again, face still buried in his sheets. “You know where they are.”

Sutan leaves Karl’s apartment in yellow shorts and a Manila shirt, not for the first time, without a formal word or a kiss goodbye.

000

The two weeks that follow see Sutan hook up with three people in the first week and then no one in the following week. No matter how hot the guy is, he seems to be unable to remove the itch behind his eyeballs, the dryness in his mouth.

His friends potentially notice something is…not wrong…just not quite right. But nobody says anything.

When Karl returns, he shows up to Raja’s gig. When the cute lighting technician who has been eyeing Raja for the last two weeks and may or may not be behind the never-ending complimentary refills of her wine she’s been enjoy lately finally plucks up the courage to hold a proper conversation with her, she apologises sweetly. A week ago, she would have felt that flutter of flirtatious excitement, but tonight she thanks him for the drinks and excuses herself, her hand clasped firmly in Karl’s.

She arrives back at her own house the next morning in a different Mania t-shirt and everything returns to normal.

000

“Wow, you’re up early. I came round expecting to have to break in considering you’re rarely conscious at this hour.” Says David from the doorstep.

“Yeah, today is the rare exception. What can I do for you, Raven?”

“I just came to drop off these.” She holds up a pair of Raja’s favourite heels. “Thanks for letting me borrow them, whore.”

Sutan scoffs as he takes the shoes. “You better not have scuffed them or anything.”

“Not a scratch, I promise. I wouldn’t dream of being so careless.” Says David, and he runs his gaze up Sutan, taking in his boots and jacket.

“Are you going out?”

“Hm? No, just a lazy morning in I think…”

“So why are you dressed like you are? Have you just got in?”

“Um, yeah. Yeah I went to grab some stuff from Whole Foods.”

David decides that he has never seen that shirt before, and he’s seen most of Sutan’s clothes. Those shorts don’t look familiar either, and he was wearing those boots last night in drag. But Sutan would never lie about something so trivial as a hookup. In fact, he’d boast. David isn’t sure he wants to know what was going on. Maybe the guy had been someone embarrassing…

“Thanks Rave. Like I said, lazy morning in, I’m so tired from the show last night.”

It finished at 1 and you left straight away…

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see you next week, bitch.”

000

It started at LA Pride a few years back.

Detox seems to make everything a little less serious, and that’s exactly what Raja needed; to feel unrestrained and happy and gay at that time of celebration. Manila was there too, standing beside her and leaning on her shoulder and holding her hand for most of the day. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was about that day that made them even more tactile than normal, so she puts it down to the liberating feeling of performing in front of thousands of drunk queers who all knew their names.

She announced that she wanted Detox to kiss her, and Detox being Detox had no qualms about fulfilling this request. She was so pumped full of silicone that it was quite unlike kissing anyone else, almost like she wasn’t quite human, but enjoyable none the less, and she was too drunk to pay too much attention to the crowd.

If she remembers correctly, she asked Manila to kiss her as well, right there in front of an audience, which seemed to come from some dark chasm inside Raja that she hadn’t fully acknowledged. But, Pride was about pushing boundaries. She can’t quite remember if Manila actually did kiss her then, or if she just pressed her entire body against Raja’s back in a gesture that was almost as bad.

There was certainly kissing later. That was all, however. First it was a light peck in front of fans between fits of laughter, then something more questionable a few hours after that, when the growing darkness of evening could hide it. Manila looked at her like she wanted to try something new. Raja thought that if the Bible Bashers were right and there was an all-powerful homophobe sitting above the clouds watching her every move, then today was a good day to really piss him off. So when Manila’s fingers brushed over her jaw and her smile was small and powerful, she went with it, because that’s what you do at Pride; you drunkenly make out with your best friend for 20 minutes on a couch at the back of some gay bar somewhere.

They didn’t actually sleep together until a few months later.

000

“Are you even into me?”

“Huh?”

“See? You’re barely listening even now.”

“I don’t understand the question. Of course I’m into you; we’re dating.”

“Are we though? Because it’s been months and I still have to text you first. And for someone who is famous for having a high sex drive, we fuck an awful lot less than I expected.”

“Look, if this isn’t all you hoped it would be, then –“

“It is, Sutan! I like you so much, and I like you more and more every time I see you. But you’re a fucking closed book. You spend entire nights at the club and don’t come back until the morning. You don’t want me seeing you perform as Raja that often even though that’s how we met. You’re skittish at best and secretive at worst and I don’t understand why I’m doing all the work. If you don’t like me, why are you still dating me?”

“I do like you. Of course I do. It’s just…being a drag queen means my life isn’t necessarily normal. I do have to stay out all night sometimes, and I tour and I keep myself busy so I don’t have time to devote myself completely to you at this point.”

“You’re everything I hoped you would be and also you’re completely not. You have secrets, I know that, but I only see you once a week, twice if I’m lucky, and where the fuck have all these Manila Luzon shirts come from? Do you have some twink on the side or something?”

“Listen; I’m a performer. I borrow people’s clothes and I keep secrets and I flirt with strangers and that’s something you’ll have to get used to. This is what dating me is like, I’m sorry, that probably isn’t going to change.”

It isn’t strictly speaking a lie, although Sutan is usually a much better boyfriend but there’s this one habit that he’s finding it rather impossible to shake off and it’s certainly not something he could talk to his boyfriend about.

��Right, as long as we’re clear on that. I don’t think it’s gonna work, Sutan. I can’t share you with everyone else. I have to be treated differently. I’d say I’m moving out but I never moved in.”

“If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”

000

“I’m sorry, honey.” Says Karl.

“Don’t be. He was right, it was for the best.”

“Did he give you a reason?”

Sutan knows Karl and his conscience and he isn’t about to let slip that he caused the breakup of the first relationship Sutan has had in years that lasted longer than a month.

“He wanted more of me. He didn’t understand the lifestyle.”

“Ugh, the gays sure do love drama.” Karl says ironically. He finishes his tea. Sutan feels the warmth of it sooth something in his soul.

“Either way it’s done now. It’s over.” Sighs Sutan.

“There’ll be others. There’s always others.”

Sutan nods. He has other offers, he knows, but he feels like maybe he doesn’t want a relationship right now. He has international tours coming up, several of which will be with Manila, so it’s not like he’ll need sex on the road.

“I’ve brought a load of your shirts back, by the way. I think we need to be more careful.”

“Honey, you know I have entire trash bags full of those things.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to throw them away.”

Karl smiles warmly at him. Maybe Sutan needs to date another drag queen in the future, as Karl has always accepted what his job demands of him without question, because he does it too.

“So, not to be indelicate, but did you come for a kiki or a kai kai?”

Sutan drums tattooed fingers on his lips as he rests his chin on the heel of his hand.

“The first one. I wouldn’t say no to the second one, of course, but that’s why I came. I came for Karl not Manila.”

“You can come for Manila too if you want.” Says Karl with a coy smile and Sutan actually rolls his eyes.

“Pathetic.”

Karl stands and moves round the table to sit himself in Sutan’s lap. Sutan sighs as his friend strokes his hands over his shoulders and loops them loosely round his neck.

“I’m just trying to make you feel better, Heather.” Says Karl softly, kissing the tip of his nose.

“You’re succeeding.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” He says between gentle kisses against his lips that linger long enough for Sutan to start reciprocating but not enough to be satisfying.

When Sutan’s hand move from his hips to his ass, he grinds down into Sutan’s lap a little, teasing. Sutan sighs against his lips.

“Come on. I’ll help you forget about the whole thing.”

000

The sex started where these things usually start; BOTS tour.

It wasn’t a fumble in the tiny coffin of a bunk on the bus, or a small hotel where they had to share rooms. It was a strange shift in reality where Raja was horny and there was no trade around and somehow she thought it would be a good idea to walk the three steps across the corridor and knock on her best friend’s door. She can’t remember what she expected to happen; if she went with the intention of sleeping with Manila or if she just wanted to complain to someone who would be sympathetic but would ultimately tell her to pull herself together.

It was months after the kiss that was much longer and more passionate than most kisses that mean nothing and it lingered somewhere in Raja’s subconscious. Manila was stripping herself of her makeup and turning into Karl again and Raja sat on the floor watching her, her back against the bathtub. They’d talked for a while about their sisters and their journey and the lack of trade and they’d fallen into a silence while Karl washed the remnants of foundation off his face. Raja was in half-drag, too lazy and semi-drunk to change completely. She ran a finger down the line of a ladder in Manila’s tights, Karl stopped what he was doing as the touch seemed to shoot up his spinal chord and go right to his head and then down to his pelvis, but carried on without a word.

Fresh-faced, he turned to look down at Raja, and offered her a hand to pull her to her feet. Even without heels she stood notably taller than Karl. He realized that they hadn’t been this alone and this tipsy and this isolated together since LA Pride.

Raja followed his thought pattern through his face.

They stood close in the silent bathroom. A thud through the wall announced that it was likely that Sharon had fallen over in the bathroom next door, probably out of inebriation. Raja looked over her shoulder at the wall that separated the rooms, and then back to Karl.

It took Karl standing on his toes to reach Raja’s mouth to peck her lips affectionately. The gesture was friendly, and Raja smiled. Karl looked satisfied, and walked back through to the bedroom.

They talked for a bit longer, and then when it got to the early hours of the morning and Karl was eyeing the alarm clock warily, Raja decided to go back and collapse into her own bed. She hugged Karl from behind, enveloping him in long, artistic arms. He fell back into the embrace, fitting against Raja’s chest. He smiled comfortably as Raja pressed a friendly kiss to his head, then his temple and his cheek, and a slightly-less-friendly kiss to his jaw and an undeniably more-than-friendly kiss to his neck. The atmosphere change was palpable, like someone turned on the stage lights.

Karl felt completely malleable in her arms, not so much trapped as fixed to the spot, and could do little more than accept the situation as Raja’s kisses against his neck became more concrete. When he felt her teeth his eyes fluttered shut.

And just like that it had been set in motion. Karl let her mouth at his neck for a few moments before his heartbeat seemed to block out everything, and turned in her arms to look at her frankly, face undoubtedly flushed.

“Are we gonna fuck, Raja?”

Raja tilted her head on one side. “I guess so. Do you want to?”

Karl stood and stared at her with narrowed eyes for a while, internally debating. He sighed heavily.

“Yeah.”

The lack of hesitation when Karl reached up to kiss her again, properly this time, made the whole situation feel sort of inevitable.

000

They’re friends with benefits. After the night in the hotel, Sutan berated himself for a lapse in judgement while subconsciously looking for another opportunity for something similar to happen. When it does it actually makes his desire for it worse. He tries sleeping with other people to convince himself it’s just his general wish for sex, but it’s no good; it’s Karl. It’s something about his friend that keeps him pulling him into closets and inviting him over for wine-addled movie nights that lead to hours and hours making up for all the time they knew each other, but didn’t know each other.

Eventually when they talk, they both agree that relationships are terrifying and their respective and combined fame would make privacy virtually impossible. No, it’s not worth it. Neither wishes to risk their close friendship, but they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other when the sky gets dark and the alcohol warms their stomachs.

“We’ll just have to be fuck buddies then.” Says Karl with a shrug.

“Aren’t we a bit old for that?”

“Well, it seems like the only way to keep sleeping together without ruining everything.”

“You have a point.”

So it’s kept casual and kept a secret. Raja goes to Karl after gigs. Karl shows up on Sutan’s doorstep late at night, or on a quiet Sunday evening. They request rooms next to each other when touring, or they make do with hurried, hot embraces in the cramped space of the tour bus. No one finds out because they’re careful not to bite too hard or groan too loudly.

Karl doesn’t date; he doesn’t meet anyone he wants to date. Sutan tries, but he can’t seem to keep any of them. He finds he doesn’t really care.

They’re not exclusive; there are one-night stands and hook-ups and fairly touchy meet-and-greets, but neither seem to fully realise that the only constant contact in their lives at this point is each other. In a way they are exclusive, just without noticing.

They text and talk like they always have. They meet for dinner and go on trips with their friends and they tweet each other passive-aggressively and hold hands on red carpets and get ready next to each other, using the same dressing room mirror. Their friendship is as strong as it has ever been, if not stronger.

Sutan wears Karl’s borrowed clothes around his house for a while once he gets home because he likes the way the material carries his smell. Manila asks to do more and more shows together because she wants to watch Raja with her mouth going dry, her eyes wide and her head fuzzy with lust from the comforting secrecy of the wings of the stage. They don’t kiss after sex because they seem to have entered a silent agreement that such a gesture would be too close to tender and there’s no point unless they’re going to have sex again. One morning Karl’s blonde streak is glowing in the morning sun and he bites his tongue as he teases Sutan about his age or his hair or his cluttered house or something, and the image causes something to stir in Sutan and he realises he wants to kiss him. But no, that would be ridiculous and couple-y and totally out of line. So he doesn’t.

One of Karl’s friends finds Sutan’s glasses by Karl’s bed. The blind idiot will be walking into everything, thinks Karl. His friend makes a joke that is worryingly close to the truth and Karl brushes it off, taking the glasses off him, holding them carefully so he doesn’t smudge the lenses with his fingerprints while he considers whether people just assume that they’ve slept together at some point in the past.

Sutan takes a guy home from the club at least ten years younger than him because he has black hair and a pineapple necklace.

Sutan goes to Europe for ten days and both of them can barely sit still, being used to seeing each other at least once a week.

When he gets back, Karl drives to his house and kisses him on the fucking doorstep like a 40s housewife whose husband has returned from the war. Sutan smiles against his lips and holds him against him for a while before they move to the bedroom.

Fuck, he thinks.

000

“Who is he then?”

“Who is who?”

“The dude you’re fucking in secret. I’m dumb, but not that dumb. I’m kinda hurt you don’t wanna share, Su.”

“I’m not ‘fucking’ anyone in secret.”

“You so are.”

Sutan sighs and shakes his head. “Fuck off, Raven. I don’t need this today. We’re gonna be late for filming.”

The playful tone drops from David’s voice and he sets his jaw, staring at his friend as he packs up his drag.

“I call you and you don’t answer. You’re covered in hickeys half the time and it’s been months since you hooked up with someone. You’re seeing someone. I know you are. Just tell me.”

“Even if I was, I don’t see how it’s any of your business, David.” Sutan feels his temper rising with his panic as he’s backed into a corner.

“I’m worried about you! You’re acting fucking weird. You’re always awake really early and you’re home by 11 and you’re not over-sharing or anything normal.”

“I just—“

“And look at your room, it’s bad even by your standard, Raja!” David kicks at the clutter lining the floor. Sutan has spent very little time in his own bedroom recently, and things seem to have stacked up, both figuratively and literally. “I know you’re a hoarder and a slob and everything but it looks like you haven’t even been sleeping in here! And you’re always so careful with your clothes and you’ve just left them here in this pile, which is so unlike you, and they’re not even like your clothes, since when did your style change to be mostly brightly coloured shorts and fucking Manila Luzon shirts—“

David freezes where he stands, the end of the last word trailing off. His grip slackens and the shirts he’d been holding fall from his fist. He looks at Sutan incredulously.

“Since when did you own so many…? Since when…”

He trails off as he stares at his friend in utter disbelief. Sutan swallows hard and says nothing.

His rant finishes in a decisive and yet somehow still interrogatory utterance of “Manila.”

“Listen–“

“Sutan what the fuck is going on?” He asks frankly, and there’s a tinge of fear in his voice.

Raven’s eyes are cold, like stone, like a snake. Sutan’s mouth goes dry, unable to form words.

“It’s not what you think…” He manages. It’s exactly what he thinks, however. Sutan doesn’t like lying to David.

“Yeah right.” David releases Sutan from his stony gaze and looks at the pile of clothes. Leave Manila’s shirts out for everyone to pick through, smart move, Raja.

“I honestly can’t with you.” He says like it’s a eulogy. Sutan is still struggling to find a way to defend himself…and Karl as well, he supposes…

“I can explain.”

“I don’t wanna hear it. This is…this is not what I expected at all…I don’t – I don’t know what to say…I’m so – I can’t believe you kept this from me when you know how much I care about you both and—“

“Rave, you have no idea what’s going on.”

“Yeah, I don’t really want to know. I need – I need to go home and, uh…try to get my head round this whole fucked up situation.” He says and he’s already moving to the door. Sutan follows him.

“David, just listen, it’ll make more sense…”

“Doubt it. Don’t call me. I need some time.” He says over his shoulder. The snake stare is back and it makes Sutan’s skin crawl. David leaves. Sutan stares at the door for a while after it shuts.

It took a while for David to trust him like a best friend. He knows how much he hates being lied to. He knows that he’s angry because he cares. He knows he’s more than likely a bit confused by the whole thing.

Join the club, thinks Sutan.

He pushes all of Manila’s shirts under his bed.

000

“Girl, where have you been? It’s been like a week and I haven’t heard from you. Are you ok?”

Karl doesn’t sound mad. He sounds worried, and that’s all. Sutan’s throat closes up.

“Yeah, I’m sorry I’ve been so quiet. I’m fine though.”

“What’s your damage, Heather?”

Sutan sighs down the phone. “Raven knows.”

“…”

Sutan bites his nails, chewing the black nail polish off his thumb.

“Raven…knows?”

“Yes. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.”

“Right, um…what did he say?”

“He was mad. He hasn’t spoken to me since and we have shows to do together, it’s gonna be really awkward.”

“Why was he mad?”

“I don’t know, it’s David, he’s temperamental. Probably just because I didn’t tell him or because we’re both his friends or something.”

He hears Karl sigh heavily through the phone. It crackles against the speaker.

“Fuck.”

“Yep.”

“He’ll…he’ll come around. He has to. Did you explain what’s going on?”

Sutan thinks maybe he doesn’t quite know what’s going on himself.

“I didn’t get a chance to. He stormed out.”

“Well maybe when he understands the whole situation, he might calm down a bit.”

“Maybe.”

“Are you sure you’re ok? Do you want me to come over?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Sutan presses his nails into the palm of his hand.

“We don’t have to do anything. We could just…I don’t know…watch a movie? Order pizza? Cuddle until you feel better?”

That sounds to Sutan like the complete opposite of what he should be doing. It also sounds undeniably appealing.

“Sure. That sounds nice.”

“Sweet. I’ll be over in a sec.” He hangs up. Sutan sits down heavily in his armchair.

You’re a fucking idiot, Raja.

000

Karl’s attraction to Raja is really something he should have got over by now.

They’ve known each other for years, plus they met in drag. They spent the first months of rapidly-moving friendship in drag, or talking about drag or working on drag, and so she really shouldn’t still have this effect.

As practically a queen since birth, Karl has always been able to appreciate feminine beauty and all its different definitions and forms, but it seems like the corner of his mind that isn’t quite 100% homosexual comes out from the heavy darkness, hovering ominously in the corner of his vision, whenever he sees Raja in all her long-legged, inked-up, glittery glory.

Sure, she has pretty much the same effect on everyone, but it’s difficult when Karl’s supposed to be platonically fucking her. It’s a weird sensation; something he never thought would actually happen, but feels oddly natural since he has to admit that it’s been happening right at the back of his mind pretty much since he met Sutan.

He knows there’s a problem even though there doesn’t feel like there is because Sutan is his best friend and he’s always loved him and when he wakes up next to him he presses himself up against him like he’s trying to meld them together permanently and there’s something in his kisses that’s similar to what makes Karl want to write stupid love songs and he knows he’s a cliché but he’s a drag queen, they both are, so what do people expect?

“Ooh, baby, you’re driving me crazy, I can’t sleep at night…” Thinks Karl, swallowing heavily, staring at his bedroom ceiling and wishing it was Sutan’s. He won’t allow himself to see him too often, but he finds himself agitated and melancholy after a few days of silence. He hears his own stupid song echoing in his ears, knocking patiently against his eardrums, probing at his brain like it needs some form of ironic acknowledgement, like his past self is getting off on being ever-so-slightly prophetic.

You got yourself into this, Westerberg.

Maybe past-him is right. Maybe he’s stuck on him.

000

“Happy birthday!”

“That’s the seventh time today you’ve said that. I’ve been counting.”

“I thought I’d say it again. It’s not every day you turn…geez, how old are you now? Around…102, right?”

“107 actually.”

“Right.”

Sutan wants a cigarette, but he doesn’t want to move. They’re going to meet a big group of friends out in West Hollywood in an hour and a half, and he wants to bask in the afterglow for a while longer.

He thinks about being a year older and how in his profession it’s difficult to be a drag queen past 40 with dignity, especially in the strand of drag he does. He may not look his age, but it’s damn hard work to keep it that way.

He’s also very much single, and as much as he never wanted the whole nuclear family setup with a husband and children to come home to, society has clearly bred in him a subconscious worry that he isn’t living the life he is supposed to at his age.

Karl reads the furrow in his brow like actual text.

“Honey, what’s up? You know I’m joking right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Just…the usual feeling of getting older I suppose.”

“Babe, I was joking.” Karl has that soft neutral expression on his face, like he knows he has to be serious, but the light can’t quite drain out of his features completely.

“It isn’t your fault. I’m being dramatic again.”

“Please don’t have a mid-life crisis on me.”

He sighs. “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?”

“Su, your life is incredible. You’ve achieved so much. You’ve done, like, everything…everything you ever wanted to do…”

“I know.” Sutan nods. He runs his hand through gray hair. “I feel like some part of me thinks I haven’t done everything right since I’m not married, or even close to it, and that’s somehow…wrong at my age? Shit, even Needles is getting married.” He theorises. Karl has his cheek pressed against Sutan’s bare chest. He can feel his heartbeat under his chin.

“You hardly live a conventional life.”

“I know.”

“Is that what you want?”

“God no. I’m happy.”

“Then don’t let society’s expectations, or Raven’s fucking sappy Facebook posts, get you down. You don’t need marriage to be happy. You could never belong to just one person anyway.”

Sutan wonders if that’s true. He doesn’t doubt it, or question it, or reaffirm it, just wonders…

“And you have me and you have all your sisters and your friends and your family and so you have no excuse to be lonely.”

Karl raises his head, propping himself up on his arms. The sheets slide down off his back. Sutan’s gaze scans over his messy hair, the hickeys blossoming on his neck and collarbone, this unusual and inviting quality in his gaze that makes friends, enemies and strangers alike fall in love with him without really knowing why.

“I’m not lonely.” He says finally.

That small smile is back, that lifts the corner of Karl’s lips that Sutan has always envied for being such a perfect shape without needing any pumping. His eyes are so huge and Sutan’s train of thought skims past the eight-year age difference between them. Karl’s thoughts are somewhere different, but probably equally risky as they tilt precariously on the cusp of something new.

“Good.” Says Karl softly, like he understands at last.

He feels out Sutan’s cheekbone with feather light touches, sliding across smooth skin down to his square jaw. He closes the distance between them painfully slowly, and Sutan is screaming at himself inside his head, something about boundaries and best friends and bad decisions, something about sex and love, but he feels like sighing in relief that Karl took the first step so he didn’t have to.

The kiss is weird. Karl’s lips have never felt more tentative, he’s never held back like this, like he’s fighting against his tether. Even as Sutan slowly returns the contact, Karl doesn’t quite commit, teetering on the edge. He falls into it though, as he was always going to, and it’s soft and cautious and so hideously weighted with the unspoken that it leaves Sutan more breathless than all the hours of sex they’ve had combined.

Karl pulls away, carefully, like he’s extracting something delicate, and Sutan blinks his eyes open slowly to look at him.

“Happy birthday.” He says again, quietly, into the heated space between their mouths.

000

“So you’re fucking Raja?”

“Who told you that?”

“No one had to tell me. She made all her Manila shirts into cushions. She seems to now have an infinite supply and it’s all over social media.”

“Maybe she just bought them? Maybe she wanted more? Why jump to conclusions, Juju?”

“Because you haven’t denied it. You’re fucking him and I know you are, so cut the bullshit.”

“…”

“And also Raven told me.”

000

The sun is beginning to rise. The night has officially become morning with it’s watery light.

Manila feels heavy and uncomfortable under her makeup. She sits at the side of the pool, in a rare moment of quiet without someone coming to talk to her. It’s 5 am. She presumes most people are heading home.

Pool parties are fun, especially when she gets paid a lot of money to attend, but there’s a chill that comes with the morning that prickles at her skin under the robe she’s draped over her swimsuit.

She’s drinking water. Her throat is dry from talking and singing. Her calves ache from dancing, her shoes have pinched at her heels from standing in them for too long.

Raven appears, sitting on the bench next to her without a word.

There’s something both peaceful and dislikeable about this time of the gig; a calm after the storm of a party, but a winding down that parallels her descent into sobriety that makes her just want to go home.

Raven sighs. They haven’t had much of a chance to talk while the party was in full swing. This is the first time she’s seen Manila since she figured out she was fucking her best friend.

“Just ask, Raven. I don’t have the energy to dance around this all day.”

“How do you know I have an agenda? I’m fucking exhausted and my feet are killing me. Maybe I just wanna chill in silence.”

“You’re chewing off your lipstick. You’d never do that if you weren’t anxious.”

A beat of silence follows.

“So you’re sleeping with my best friend.”

“Yes.”

“You’re sleeping with your best friend.”

“I suppose so.”

“How did that happen?” Her tone is light and casual, like she’s asking how her weekend was.

“BOTS. Drunk and alone. Pretty standard.”

“Romantic.”

Manila laughs resentfully.

“We sort of slipped into a habit. We thought it’d be best not to tell anyone because it wasn’t serious and we have too much to lose.”

“Except it is serious.”

Manila sighs, weighed down and crumbling under it all.

“You’re both a bit old to have meaningless sex, you know that, right?”

“That’s what he said.”

“And of course you do realise it isn’t meaningless, right?”

“I’m beginning to.”

“It isn’t a good idea to love him, Manila.”

“I know and that’s why I don’t.”

Raven’s smile is filled with pity. She looks forward across the valley again, at the sun slowly rising.

“Yes you do.”

Manila sighs again.

“It’s so easy just having him there. It’s all too easy. It’s all my fault.”

“Don’t give up yet. It isn’t all bad. I haven’t seen him like this in a long time. Either your dick is magic or he’s caught up in it all just like you. He hasn’t fucked a backup dancer in months.”

Manila pulls all of her thick hair over one shoulder and flexes her shoulders that are starting to seize up, her waist strangled by her corset.

“Are you mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Raja said you were mad.”

“I was mad she didn’t tell me. I was mad because I was shocked.”

Manila nods. She licks her lips; most of her lipstick has rubbed off and she can’t remember where she put her gloss to reapply it.

“Have you ever fucked her?”

“Yes.”

“Thought so.”

“The situation was different though. I didn’t love her.”

“Are you sure?”

Raven takes a minute. “Yes. Yes I’m pretty sure. We were drag sisters, and then rivals, and then both RuGirls, and then friends. We’ve never been anything outside that. It was a few nights of boredom and nothing much else. Besides, I’ve found my soul mate, and he’s nothing like Raja.”

Manila nods. She looks down at her feet and absentmindedly kicks an empty bottle in front of her.

“You got off fucking easy, honey.”

Raven smiles a little at that.

“Maybe. You’ve just gotta make it right, and it’ll be worth it…probably…”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Sorry I don’t do supportive that often. Just talk to her or something, I don’t know.”

000

“Someone’s started an internet rumour about us.” Mumbles Sutan. Karl takes the phone from his outstretched hand.

“Hm.” He stares at the screen intently for a while. “Is it a rumour if it’s true?”

“Yes.” Sutan takes the phone off him. “Are we that obvious?”

Karl shrugs. They’re out drag shopping. Together. Karl’s life has become a blur of yellow dresses and walls around his heart and Sutan this, Raja that, both of them wherever he turns and whenever he closes his eyes. He can’t tell if he’s getting tired or getting comfortable.

Sutan is too engrossed in corset fittings and chasing up each individual piece for concepts and looks to worry about it. The internet swells and stews in its theories that are closer to the truth than it probably expect. Karl takes pictures of his best friend as he stands in a floor-length gown, without pads or makeup or a wig or anything, just checking the colour with his complexion, and he’s carrying himself in the proud, effortless way that’s quintessential Raja even when he’s Sutan. Karl compliments and critiques. They get lunch and walk the long route back with Starbucks and Karl hasn’t thought about sex all day.

000

They don’t get to perform together that much. Manila’s wanted everywhere, Raja’s needed everywhere else, and the BOTS schedule keeps them on separate continents for a while. That’s why moments like these are sort of precious, when World of Wonder gives them a call and the Drag Race family must assemble and they get to paint their alter-egos onto their faces side by side again.

The lighting is shitty, and Sutan worries that he’ll look busted, but it also isn’t worth leaving the bathroom to find better light because then he wouldn’t get to tease Manila about her attempts to glue down a particularly stubborn lash. He watches her blend her wing into her crease and step back to admire herself in the mirror, pouting slightly to tighten her cheeks and tilting her jaw up to watch the shadow catch underneath.

Sutan glances back at his own reflection, the light sitting on his cheekbones as he paints over Sutan’s slight signs of age with Raja’s immortality.

“Are you in love with me?” Raja asks, because she gets told that a lot by strangers. She thinks about how many times people have professed love to her, how many men have sighed it into the dark hot air of Sutan’s bedroom. She wonders how one would go about validating that statement.

“Yes.” Says Manila. “I am.”

She isn’t looking at Raja, she’s looking at herself. She’s stopped applying her lipstick, and is just staring at herself with an edge of resentment, like she’s berating her own weakness. Her shoulders slump, she sighs, she presses her lips together. Raja catches every idiosyncrasy reflected in the mirror.

Raja has never wanted to hear someone say they love her less.

She nods solemnly and goes back to blending her foundation down her neck. Their light and easy relationship just got a lot harder and heavier.

“Why did you make me say that?”

I didn’t. “Because I wanted to make sure.”

“You knew?”

“Sort of.” Sutan has known since Karl kissed him in the cold light of day on Sutan’s birthday with no agenda other than feeling him kiss back.

Manila laughs sardonically. “That obvious, huh? I’m sorry, Raja.”

“Don’t be.”

“I think we both knew it was always gonna be this way. You sleep around and I catch feelings; it’s who we are. This whole thing was a terrible idea.”

“Probably.” It doesn’t seem that bad in Raja’s memories. It seems warm then hot and forbidden then natural. It seems like an eventuality they had no chance of escaping.

“I think it’s, um…I think it’s best if I just, give you some space for a bit…” Manila says. She’s putting on mascara, and the conversation is the most serious and least dramatic that two drag queens have ever had. It’s like a business transaction and the detachment in Manila’s voice probes at Raja.

“I don’t want that.” She says, because it’s the truth.

“Now everything is out in the open, I don’t wanna hurt every time I see you, Raja. I need to get my shit together.”

“If that’s what you want.” Raja swallows.

“It isn’t.” Says Manila lightly, with a slight hitch in her voice.

“Then why does anything have to change?”

Manila looks across at her then, and Raja turns to meet her eyes. When she sees the muted pain there, crushed and suppressed under Manila’s unquenchable need to be vibrant, she starts to laugh.

The hurt in Manila’s eyes deepens and then warps into confusion as Raja chuckles to herself. She moves closer to pull Manila into her arms. The other stiffens.

“You fucking fool.” Raja says softly, dipping her head to be closer Manila. She nudges her forehead with her nose to make the shorter queen look up at her.

“I was wondering what the fuck you were talking about.” There’s relief in Raja’s voice, and it makes Manila relax a little. “You think I don’t feel the same. That’s it, right?”

Manila swallows hard. With her eyebrows raised and her crease cut, her eyes look bigger than ever. “You…you do?”

Raja laughs again, happily and breathily. Her grip tightens round Manila’s waist. She kisses her gently despite their lipstick.

“You’re over complicating things as usual.” Raja says softly. “I’m head over heels, bitch. Pun intended.”

“You couldn’t have mentioned that earlier, you whore?” Manila murmurs in a sigh of relief. Her eyes are closed. She’s smiling and it’s contagious.

“Watching you squirm was fun.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you.”

“Gay.” Says Manila. Raja’s grinning like an idiot and she wants to kiss her again but she remembers the car arriving to pick them up in around fifteen minutes and she doesn’t have time to redo her makeup. Nothing feels even remotely unnatural or new about holding each other like this, talking close, sharing breathing space, because they’ve been doing it for almost a year now.

“What are we gonna tell everyone?”

“Nothing? The truth? I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”

“What are we gonna tell Raven?”

“Uh…I’ll get to that later.”

000

“Do you love me again?”

“I never didn’t love you, bitch.”

“Well you didn’t talk to me for weeks which is almost as bad.”

“It was the shock, I think. I don’t like being left out of this kind of thing, Raja.”

“I won’t keep important stuff from you anymore, ok? It is legitimately none of your business, though.”

“I know.”

“Are you…are you at least happy for us?”

“Of course. Mostly because I know you won’t screw each other over. Whenever you tell me you’re seeing someone, I immediately pity them because I know what you’re like with relationships, but with her, I’m not worried. She won’t break your heart because she isn’t physically capable of it, and you won’t screw it up because you know how much is at stake.”

“The public will react how they react, we try not to care too much.”

“I don’t mean the public, you dick. I’ve never seen you in this deep. All this time, it turns out you just needed to date your best friend. You fuckers are perfect for each other, and you’ll be married in two years.”

“Looks like you have a soft centre after all, Rave.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Neither of us wanna get married. That’s not our thing.”

“Sure.”

000

They tell the rest of the world on a stage in front of hundreds of screaming fans of all genders, ages, races and sexualities, surrounded by their sisters and under the welcoming glare of stage lights. Michelle Visage takes the microphone off Manila and after the noise of the crowd finally dies down, she says; “All I have to say about this development, ladies, is that RuPaul owes me 20 bucks.”

#raja gemini #manila luzon #raven #rajila #circe #rpdr fanfiction #submission

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blueraith · 7 years ago

Text

Less funny post, but:

These movies also heavily feature the Catholic Church. Same church I was raised in, don’t follow anymore with the exception of holidays with my family, and heavily resent.

I prefer not to think of it most days, and when I do, I joke about how bad of a Catholic I am. Very bad. The worst.

But these movies the Church is front and center in, and I find myself thinking about them and my relation to them. I used to be a far better Catholic. Not a perfect one. I did find myself stuck in between what I could see for myself and what faith meant to me. Faith is something I still grapple with. I suppose it means something different to everyone, but I’ve never been much of a faithful person. Why believe in something if you can’t prove it? I find comfort in things like numbers, statistics, and trends. It means that whatever it is I’m looking at has happened before, this was how it panned out, what people did, and how it ended. Rinse and repeat for a vast variety of subjects.

Faith, on the other hand, means believing in something that may not even be real. That no one has seen. That you just have to hope is real.

I’ve tried that before. I used to pray every night. As a kid it was about dumb stuff. That kid’s prayer one will see in movies a lot. Praying for a Christmas present. That my school bully wouldn’t mess with me the next day. Those were easy prayers to ‘answer.’ If such a thing was happening. People like to say God challenges you. Well, I’d like to think that I challenged God as a teenager. Because that was when my prayers started to get more serious.

My ADHD hit around the eighth grade. That was when I started to fall apart academically. I didn’t happen all at once nor did I completely collapse all in one moment, but between that time and the time I graduated, it was a rollercoaster of failure, developing mental illness, and constant, nightly prayers that desperately hoped for something to change. To get better. For an answer or even a goddamned hint as to why this kept happening. Why couldn’t I just do my homework? Why was I always overwhelmed to the point of feeling sick? Why couldn’t I get out of bed sometimes? Why did I feel this way? Why was I doing these things? Why?

I hate that question, because that was one I was asked by my parents, teachers, and administrators constantly. Why? I don’t know. That’s not an answer. I don’t know. Why not? How can you not know what’s wrong with you? I don’t know.

See, I pray to this guy every night, and nothing happens. I wake up to the same repeating nightmare over and over again. My parents call me a failure and eventually, I see myself as one too. Because I was smart enough for the grades they wanted. My teachers and administrators were so confused as to why a previous straight A student could just systematically collapse like this for seemingly no reason.

It was maddening. Oh. I remember sitting on the couch and getting absolutely roasted by my parents for an answer as to why I couldn’t just pass my classes. For hours. The stress eventually got to me, and I distinctly remember telling my dad I hated him in a fit of anger. Man. That was the last time he ever spanked me. It sucked.

And you know, I didn’t get answers until I was twenty-two years old. Long after I stopped praying. Long after I was out of the view of the adults who really should have noticed what was wrong. I went after answers on my own. Got a therapist, who suggested a psychiatrist, got evaluated, and suddenly, I do have a mental illness on top of a disorder. Oh, man. My mom used to ask mockingly if I had some kind of learning disorder.

“What do you have ADHD or something? Do you need medication?”

Why, yes, mother. Medication would have actually helped a hell of a lot.

Too bad nobody ever answered my fucking prayers and had anybody notice a god fucking thing and sent me to a mother fucking doctor to get this shit sorted out. I slipped through the cracks, and I will forever resent certain people for that. My parents for one. That bitch high school counselor I had, who I talked to regularly, who barely enjoyed her job, said trite things to me every meeting, and never did actually ask me any real questions.

So, science ended up saving the day. Soft science, perhaps, but a real science, nonetheless.

But that’s not the only thing that led to my resentment of the Catholic Church. Because, all of the above is really just the first sledgehammer sized hole knocked into my sense of faith as a whole. I didn’t become angry at the Church itself until I realized I might just be gay.

That was a tough one. First, I didn’t even know gay people was a thing until I got into junior high and heard kids joking, mockingly or course because I live in Texas, about them. Didn’t even know homosexuality as a concept. No wonder it took me until twenty fucking years old to realize what was up with me. Geez. Anyway, I eventually did realize that I was possibly gay, and then proceeded to have an existential crisis.

Because gay people aren’t hidden from you, aren’t renounced as a ‘lifestyle choice’ and ‘sin’, unless the purpose is to make you hate them. I mean, Catholics who believe this shit might say that ‘hate’ is a strong word, but that’s what they believe when you get right down to it. I’ve heard my grandparents enough times to know that. “Hate the sinner, not the sin” is a bullshit lie. They hate the sinner too.

I had a lot of beliefs that threatened to crush me. I tried to literally pray the gay away. And, like before, received no sign that I was even heard, let alone answered. It’s absolutely crushing to grow up religious, led to believe that someone’s always listening, that you can turn to this person if you can’t go to anyone else, and then when you absolutely need them:

Nothing fucking happens.

I mean, yeah, sure, I didn’t expect God himself to come down and solve my problems. But, if this religious stuff was to be believed, he was supposed to act through others. If God had heard me, I would have been noticed struggling in highschool. That didn’t happen. If God had heard me, I would have been able to find some kind of sexual feeling towards men. Neither of those things happened.

Turned to him. Twice. And was either ignored, or just wasn’t heard.

For a formerly religious person, this hurt a lot.

But what ended up being the final nail in the coffin was when I turned to the Church itself for answers.

When I realized that this gay concept wasn’t going to go away.

Well, if it wasn’t going away, if it was my new normal, then what did the Church expect me to do with it?

My mother has a catechism book. It’s thick, and heavy, and dry, and the pages are about as thin as an actual bible’s, and small printed. The index was a thing to behold. I looked up homosexuality in it.

And what I found was what finally made me angry. At all of it.

Because the Church believed that what I was going though was either a ‘trial of abstinence’ or a call to serve.

My choices were either to never act on any of my sexual or romantic feelings for the rest of my life.

Or become a nun.

I’d always struggled with the story of Job. That story seemed cruel to me. Excessively so. I mean, what kind of God just goes out and absolutely torments an innocent man, worse a man who believes in him with all his heart, just to get in a pissing contest with the devil? I mean, this is an all knowing, all powerful being. The devil basically told God, “Na-na, I bet I can get this guy to believe in me more than you! What are you gonna do about it, huh?”

And then God did his best to destroy this man, just to see if Job would still believe in him in the end.

The story, of course, ends with Job still believing in God, God gives him back everything he took (which includes the guy’s family for fuck’s sake) as if to say, “Psych! Just fucking with you, man! Tee-hee!”

You mean to tell me that God was so fucking insecure, that he spiritually, mentally, and emotionally tormented a human being to his breaking point, just to prove his superiority to the devil?

Fuck that.

That story was the only thing I could think of when I read that in the catechism. I didn’t want to be a trial or a test. My life was mine. I didn’t want to have my faith tested or some shit. I just wanted what everyone else got to have. The option to get married. Maybe have kids if I was so inclined. I don’t even know if I want that stuff, but the fact that some being whose never heard a goddamned thing I’ve ever asked of him just thought he could close the door on those options, without even so much as asking me, it stung. Worse than that, it was infuriating. It was the last straw, because it felt like my life was a joke to him.

I remember closing that book and going to bed.

The fiery resentment didn’t kick in till later when I processed all this over the course of a couple of years. When people tell me about ‘God’s plan’ and shit like that, I just feel it in my chest. That anger. They say that about all kinds of things. Gay people trying to abstain. People dying too young. All part of ‘God’s plan.’

It’s a shitty fucking plan if you ask me. I don’t want any part of it. I don’t find comfort in it. And I sure as hell don’t want to be told about it. Because if God has a plan that involved tormenting me to the point of potential suicide, then I was going to systematically go through every single thing I believed in and determine whether or not that belief needed to be changed. For my own mental health. If what I believed in made me hate myself, then it needed to be changed.

Religious or politically inclined, those beliefs were flipped seemingly over-night. (It took just over two years. Hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done. Changing your entire belief system is not easy and if I had to do it again, I’d do it with the help of a therapist because this shit was emotionally backbreaking.) My mother just doesn’t get it. She thinks all of this is because of her. That I became a ‘raging liberal’ overnight just to spite her.

No Mom, I became a ‘raging liberal’ because I didn’t want to kill myself over the toxic beliefs the Church uses on its members. Because God never answered my prayers. Because I didn’t want to be a living ‘trial’ and I sure as hell didn’t want to end up serving a nebulous being that put me in this situation in the first place. Become a fucking nun?! Are you serious? After the shit you’ve already put me through? No.

I’m sorry. This rant is particularly long, sad, and angry. I’m mostly making it because I’ve been reminded of it by the movies I’ve been watching, and because I know I’m going to actually be talking about these thoughts very soon. I’m sure my parents will bring up religion when I come out.

Hoo-man. I’m gonna have to come out twice in one conversation. Once for sexuality, and second for my less than stellar views on religion. I don’t know if I’m strictly atheist. I’d like to think that something’s out there. But I’m currently mad at that something. If it wants to talk to me or judge me, then it can do it when I fucking die. Clearly it doesn’t want to talk while I’m alive.

#personal shit

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