#tHE SHEER AMOUNT OF SAVE ROLLS I MADE WAS ASTOUNDING

[purplebehittindifferent]

Am I a high strength stat dwarf? No. I’m a bard.

Did I single-handedly kill Gorthok the thunder boar because my friends were in danger?

Yep.

[missjosie27]

Year 3 Part 2- Boggarts and Slytherins

Hello, everyone. New day, different chapter. Hope you guys like it as always!

One small note: this is the beginning of the arc I have planned for Merula which will be quite extensive. For now she’s still perpetually angry and vengeful but I plan to plant the seeds very subtly along the way.

Constructive feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Enjoy!

The next morning the Gryffindors received their schedules for the year from Professor McGonagall and certain times had been switched around from the previous year.

“Looks like we have Herbology first thing in the morning now,” Rowan observed. “I always liked it in the afternoon.”

“At least we still take it with the Hufflepuffs,” David shrugged. “Potions on the other hand…”

“Slytherins, I know,” Rowan sighed, shaking his head.

“And that means another year of having to deal with Merula Snyde trying to get underneath my skin or attempting to blow up my cauldron.”

“Just be thankful, it’s not Ismelda,” Ben came up behind them, timidity in his brown eyes. “She doesn’t announce beforehand how she’s going to make your life miserable.”

“Well then brace yourself, because we have that today too,” David stated glumly.

“At least the rest of the week doesn’t look so bad,” Rowan pointed out on the schedule. “We get Transfiguration and Charms on the same day. Defense Against the Dark Arts on Wednesdays and Fridays along with our electives.”

“Can’t wait to see what rubbish teacher they picked for that class, if the previous two are any indicator,” David muttered.

Just then Charlie interrupted them, hustling over, a gigantic bag slung over his shoulders.

“Hey, guys. Did you get the schedules? What electives did you take? I can’t wait to take Care of Magical Creatures.”

David had never seen Charlie so excited before. He suspected the reason why.

“Well I’m taking Magical Creatures as well alongside Ancient Runes…Charlie are you taking this class so you can see a dragon?”

The response was predictable.

“No��.maybe.”

“You realize that logistics of getting a dragon to Hogwarts are extremely difficult, bordering on impossible, especially with the more aggressive species. The sheer manpower alone would be astounding, not to mention the amount of sedation,” Rowan rattled off.

“I know, I know,” Charlie said sheepishly. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t learn about them. Hagrid is pretty knowledgeable about dragons too. Even offered to lend me a few books.”

“Out of curiosity, did anyone take Divination?” Ben asked.

The rest of the boys shook their heads.

“Heard the professor for it is completely bonkers,” David replied. “My parents also think the subject is a load of old tripe. For once I agree with them.”

“Not really my style either,” Rowan concurred. “I like dealing in facts not predictions.”

“I guess I dodged a bullet then,” Ben said with relief.

“Dodged a what now?” Charlie asked.

“Muggle saying,” Rowan informed.

It was then that Professor McGonagall came up to shoo them away as their cue to leave.

“We better get to Herbology before Professor Sprout gets cross with us,” David said aloud.

And off the Gryffindors went.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Professor Sprout took her job very seriously as head of Herbology, taking immense care of her greenhouses. However, being the Hufflepuff she was, she was not the type to give detention for tardiness. David personally enjoyed her class due to her friendly but fair demeanor. She even gave him a personal greeting upon arrival as the rest of the students set up.

“David Grant,” she said cheerfully. “So nice to see you in Herbology instead of inside of a Cursed Vault.”

Grinning at the good natured humor, David was thankful for Sprout’s non judgemental disposition.

“Cursed Vaults don’t compare to your class, Professor Sprout. I hope you had a nice summer.”

“How thoughtful of you to ask, your brother was always the same way.”

David ignored the pang in his chest as he listened politely.

“My summer was splendid! I conducted several experiments on the composition of dragon dung fertilizer. The quantity and quality of it has a tremendous impact on a plant’s growth.”

“Interesting. Just don’t let Charlie hear the word ‘dragon’ he might trip over himself trying to find it.”

Professor Sprout gave a hearty chuckle.

“There’s that wonderful sense of humor of yours. Ten points to Gryffindor for the laugh. Now, find your place Mr. Grant, we are about to begin today’s lesson.”

Feeling quite pleased with himself gaining points for simply making his professor laugh, David gladly took up a spot in between Tonks and Penny (the former gave him a wink) as the demonstration commenced.

“Good morning, class! Welcome back to Hogwarts and I hope you all had wonderful summer holidays!” Professor Sprout greeted in her usual affable manner. “Today we will be learning to grow Valerian. The roots of this magical plant can be used in many magical potions. All eyes up front, please!”

The lecture began with information about the plant itself, its properties, and the potions commonly used for. Penny was particularly excited as it turned it was a common ingredient in more advanced brews such as the Draught of Peace and the Forgetfulness Potion. Following that were notes on the proper care of the Valerian, the gathering of equipment and working on soil and roots. Greenhouse three usually housed far more dangerous plants, but that wasn’t what made the Valerian tricky. It required a very specific amount of water and light and if botched, died quite easily, something Professor Sprout was very quick to point out.

“Gather around, everyone,” she called out. “Too much water on the Valerian root will kill it within moments. I will demonstrate the proper amount to use. Miss Haywood, will you fetch me that pail on the shelf?”

“Yes, Professor Sprout,” the blonde beamed, hopping over to the shelf.

While that was occurring, Tonks took the time to catch up.

“Wotcher, Dave. I felt like I hardly saw you at the end of last year.”

“Saving the school from becoming the Arctic tundra will take up a good deal of time,” David joked. “But I promise we’ll hang out more this year.”

“Smashing! We can start right away. Which of these plants do you think would work best for bothering a certain, irritable librarian?”

The third year Gryffindor rolled his eyes but smiled all the same.

“Tonks, just how many detentions do you plan on getting this year?”

But before she could retort with a quip of her own there was a sudden crash and scream. Everyone turned to see Penny Haywood standing in front of one of the pots, positively petrified with fear. Standing over them all, was a vicious, snarling werewolf.

Immediately some of the class started screaming and a cold washed over David’s body.

How on earth did a full grown werewolf get in here?!.....In the middle of the day….when it’s two weeks before full moon….

None of this added up but before he came to the obvious conclusion, Professor Sprout leapt forward, wand drawn.

“Everyone remain calm!” she ordered. “There is nothing to fear. Please stand back, Miss Haywood.”

Penny dove underneath the table as the head of Hufflepuff house yelled out, “Riddikulus!”

The werewolf immediately transformed into a harmless, poorly stitched, teddy bear causing some of the class to laugh at the sheer hilarity. It proceeded to burst into a pile of smoke and vanish completely.

“What the hell was that?” Tonks asked aloud. “Was that a real werewolf?”

“It wasn’t,” Professor Sprout answered. “That was a boggart. Nasty shapeshifting creature that takes the form of a victim’s worst fear.”

“I’ve heard of those things,” Rowan informed them. “They’re found in almost every country. My grandfather came across one in India once. Not a pleasant experience.”

“Very true, Mr. Khanna. However, a boggart cannot physically harm you. The true damage it causes is to the mind. It is repelled by laughter and the incantation I just used will change it into something humorous.”

Sprout checked underneath the table.

“Miss Haywood, you may come out now. You do not need to be afraid any longer.”

Slowly, the blonde peaked her head out and slowly brought herself to her feet though her body was still trembling mightily.

“Oh, you poor, dear. I think a trip to Madam Pomfrey might be in order just to be safe.”

“I’ll take her,” Chiara Lobosca immediately volunteered. “I have some experience helping in the Hospital Wing. It’s the least I can do.”

David could already guess why Chiara was doing this so readily. As a werewolf herself, there was a guilt that she carried that he hardly blamed her for. And though Penny knew her secret and the two were friends, no doubt Chiara did not want to run the risk of her dormmate’s fear tainting that friendship again.

“That is very kind of you Miss Lobosca. I think we’ve all had enough for one day. I will also be forced to report this to the Headmaster; to my knowledge this is the first time a boggart has ever been seen inside the greenhouses. Class dismissed.”

Professor Sprout waved her wand, sending the Valerians back to their proper stations as the rest of the class put away their materials, gloves, and packed their things. Chiara hurried Penny away, the blonde still holding back tears and unable to speak.

David made up his mind to pay her a visit later on just to make sure she was okay. He also reflected on Professor Sprout’s comment that a boggart had never been seen in the greenhouses before.

Hogwarts was never what anyone would call ‘normal’ but even so, something very odd was going on.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lunch time only served to prove his hunch further. He and Rowan discussed the issue over pumpkin juice and ham sandwiches.

“An anomaly to be sure,” his best friend commented. “Boggarts typically like dark, decaying places.”

“A pot filled with soil is technically dark and decaying,” David joked.

“A pot in a greenhouse which absorbs and takes in massive amounts of sunlight,” Rowan pointed out. “When my grandfather stumbled across one in India, it was in a cave. It hardly adds up.”

He took out a book titled ‘Blithe’s Guide to Dark Creatures’ and flipped a few pages.

“Case and point,” he said, showing him the underlined text. “And I don’t know if you noticed this, but that boggart looked a lot more…realistic than normal.”

“It is odd I grant you that,” David conceded. “I’m just concerned about Penny mostly. She looked as though she might die of fright.”

“And that’s precisely what I’m getting at….what if that was no ordinary boggart?”

Before he could elaborate further, they were joined by the Weasley brothers, who sat down next to them.

“Did you hear about what happened?” Bill asked them.

“Charlie filled you in pretty quickly, eh?”

“No, not Penny. There was an incident in McGonagall’s sixth year Transfiguration class with the Ravenclaws. A boggart in the form of a banshee popped in out of nowhere and nearly gave this one bloke a heart attack. And there was another one in the Astronomy tower with the Slytherins. Second year broke down after seeing a bloodthirsty ogre.”

Rowan gave David a knowing look. Yes, something was definitely going on here.

“In other words, Penny wasn’t the only one to see their worst fear today,” Charlie summed it all up.

“One day back and we’re already dealing with a crisis,” David muttered. “If it isn’t cursed ice it’s the ‘Attack of the Boggarts’. Oh, joy.”

“You don’t think this has to do with another cursed vault, does it?” Rowan asked.

“And if it is, should we try and find it?” Bill added. There was an eagerness in his voice, but as it was during the feast, he tempered that eagerness.

David thought for a brief moment. It seemed preposterous to think that a cursed vault would be active so early in the year. Then again there wasn’t a viable explanation outside of that. But what did boggarts have to do with ancient curses anyway? They were sentient dark creatures, not tied to anything other than taking the shape of someone’s worst fear.

“I think we need to learn more about boggarts,” David said aloud. “There’s only so much a book can tell you. As far as whether this stems from a cursed vault, it’s too early to tell.”

“You should ask Hagrid,” Bill told him. “He knows all about terrifying creatures. He’s actually in the courtyard now if you want to talk to him. Let me know what you find.”

Just then the group had to duck as a custard tart narrowly missed hitting Charlie on the head.

“Duty calls,” Bill grinned, tapping his prefect badge. “OI! You first years! Stop throwing food in the Great Hall!”

As he left to handle the situation, David couldn’t help but shake his head and snicker a bit.

“He seems to be getting a handle on the job.”

“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t entertaining when he tries to corral the first years,” Charlie laughed. “But this is going to work to your benefit, Dave. Bill can give you cover when you’re searching for the vaults. Like I said, he has no interest in stopping the search.”

David nodded but kept his response neutral. This wasn’t the time to go galloping off in search of another vault…not yet anyway. Dumbledore would not be pleased if he were to find out he directly disobeyed him. Nor did he want a howler from his parents.

He tried to ignore the memory of his brother once more as his face became quite vivid in his mind.

“Let’s just take it one step at a time.” Draining the last of his pumpkin juice, he got up from the table. “Shall we go visit Hagrid?”

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Finding a ten foot tall human was not a difficult task. David and Rowan spotted him right away. He was tending after Fang, who had grown quite considerably since the previous year, throwing him treats and laughing mightily.

It was a bright, sunny day. Perfect weather for going outside, and it seemed that most of the students had not heard of the mishaps with the boggarts. Not yet at least.

“Hey, Hagrid!”

The giant turned around and waved cheerily.

“Dave! Rowan! Good to see yeh.”

“Likewise. How was your summer?”

“It was fine. Thanks for askin,” Hagrid replied cheerily. “Raised a litter of flobberworms in the hut but now they’re fully grown. Don’t know what to do with em, really. Not very interestin creatures, flobberworms.”

“You could always set them free, Hagrid,” Rowan suggested. “Especially if Professor Snape doesn’t need them for any other potion.”

“Not a bad idea, though I’d have ter set em free away from me garden. They’ll eat all the pumpkins I’m growing fer this years Halloween feast. But enough of me flobberworm problems. What can I do fer yeh?”

David tried to phrase the question innocently.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard but there have been multiple boggart attacks today around the school, including Penny. Seeing as you’re an expert on creatures, we were wondering if you knew why so many are popping up out of nowhere.”

Hagrid’s normally warm, beetle eyes narrowed as he rubbed his massive beard.

“A boggart will occasionally get in here, but I haven’t seen one o’ them in ages. Not since…”

There was a pause and it was clear the gamekeeper was reluctant to reveal more.

“Since when, Hagrid?” he pressed.

“Since yer brother was a student and came askin about them as well.”

As it usually was with these cursed vaults, all questions seemed to lead to more questions, including several David had off the top of his head. He could not contain his desire for more information about Jacob this time.

“Why was my brother asking about boggarts? What did he say? What did you tell him?”

“Slow down, Dave. I’ll tell yeh everything yeh want to know,” Hagrid eased. “Years back, there was an infestation of the ruddy things. Yer brother came to me seekin’ ter know more. He had a theory that one of the vaults at Hogwarts played on the fears anyone who tried ter open it. If these boggarts are suddenly appearin’ again, it might mean someone’s bin messin with that vault.”

That all but confirmed that another Cursed Vault was currently active in the school. Except this time they had no idea where it was, unlike the ice which originated from a specific source.

“It is another vault,” Rowan whispered. “I knew it.”

“Do you know if my brother kept research on the vaults? Any writings of that nature?”

“Fraid not,” Hagrid said truthfully. “Yer brother didn’t have a lot o’ friends at Hogwarts. But he did spend a lot of time at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. Madam Rosmerta is the innkeeper, I ‘spect she migh’ know more about any writings or notes he kept.”

David gave a wide smile.

“Well that’s quite convenient, because we’re third years now and we’re allowed to visit the village.”

Hagrid beamed. “Wonderful. I’ll have teh introduce yeh to her. She’s quite the woman, Rosmerta.”

“First trip is scheduled for the first week in October. We can meet then.”

“Sounds good ter me, Dave. I’ll see yeh around. Come along Fang.

*woof!

As Hagrid lumbered away, Rowan gave David a half inquisitive, half worried expression.

“What?”

“I know you and I know that look you get in your eye. This newfound information on your brother has you all excited again.”

“So what if it does? Do you know what I’ve had to put up with over the summer? Living with…”

He stopped, unwilling to reveal anything more. As always, the status of his family was not something he enjoyed or wanted to talk about and kept it under wraps. Rowan, gazed at him sympathetically, however.

“David, only a day ago you said you didn’t know whether we should continue searching for the vaults. One talk with Hagrid and you’re ready to go to Hogsmeade right now. Just be careful. Don’t get sucked back into this too early.”

His best friend definitely had a point. There were places in time during the previous two years where the search for Jacob had caused him to lose his rationality. Still, if there was a lead, he couldn’t simply stand by and not follow it.

“Don’t worry, Rowan. That Hogsmeade trip isn’t for another month. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with talking to Madam Rosmerta just to learn more about my brother.”

“We both know that’s not the only reason you want to talk to her.”

“Fine. You caught me. I’m going so I can stare at her chest all day. Happy?”

Rowan couldn’t help but chortle at that as he adjusted his glasses.

“David, I know I can’t stop you from talking to Rosmerta. When you put your mind to something there’s very little anyone can do to stop you. I just don’t want to see you expelled.”

“I won’t be, I can promise you that,” he replied, putting an arm around the Indian boy. “And I know you’re looking out for me like you always do. Thank you.”

That brought a big smile to Rowan’s face. Underneath the surface he was always a bit insecure about his place at Hogwarts and to reaffirm his friendship was exactly what a person like him needed now and again.

“I always will.” He checked his watch and frowned. “Lunch is almost over, and potions starts soon. You know what happens if we’re tardy.”

David groaned. Though potions was actually a subject he normally did well in, it also meant afternoons spent with two of his least favorite people: Severus Snape and Merula Snyde. And though he had not seen the latter of the two yet, there was no doubt the Slytherin girl would have multiple choice words for him.

“Let’s face it then, yeah? Nothing like trading warm air and sunshine for the black pit of the dungeons and Merula.”

It would have been a lot funnier were the prospect not so bleak.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sure enough, upon their entry to the Potions classroom Merula was waiting for them. Her look had changed slightly over the summer- she sported black eyeliner, heavy dark eyeshadow, and what looked like a tiny amount of blush in her cheeks. Otherwise, there was very little difference in her appearance- the orange tuft of hair, ripped tights and combat boots were still there. However, this time she wasn’t alone.

“Welcome back to Hogwarts, Grant. How did it feel to be publicly humiliated by Dumbledore at the welcome feast?”

“You know as lovely a tradition arguing with you every first potions class is, I really don’t have the patience to keep it going this year,” came the witty retort. David also wasn’t lying. His ire against the girl certainly hadn’t subsided but on days like this it receded into a kind of bored exasperation.

“You’ll need more than just patience this time around. In fact, I wouldn’t even bother trying to find the next vault. I’m going to open them all before you even have a chance to find them,” she sneered at him in her usual manner. “With my associates Ismelda and Barnaby here, all of the fortune and glory in the vaults will be mine.”

It was like the speech of a badly written villain, however Merula wasn’t fibbing on one aspect of her statement. Flanked on each side was indeed Ismelda Murk and Barnaby Lee, two people he was familiar with- the former once tried to threaten him into revealing more information about the vaults while the latter was notorious for consuming potions he wasn’t supposed to drink.

“Didn’t you say something similar to that last year?” Rowan pipped up.

“I don’t believe I was talking to you, four eyes,” Merula snapped at him as she turned back to David, violet eyes glinting maliciously. “You got lucky last year, Grant. But that luck is about to run out.”

The third year Gryffindor gave a false yawn as he slung his bag over his chair.

“Truly, I’m shaking in my boots. Merula. When you actually find a vault as opposed to talking about finding one get back to me. Otherwise, I have better things to do than listen to you carry on like a prat.”

Merula’s rosy pink cheeks turned a bright shade of red as anger surged through her.

“Like what?!”

“Uh, literally anything else.”

The Slytherin witch had no time to reply, however as Snape entered the room, his usual slumped over, bat like silhouette taking immediate command of the room. That certainly hadn’t changed.

“Alright you insufferable lot,” he droned in his usual monotone. “Take your seats, heat up your cauldrons and do try to not ruin another lesson…Mr. Lee that goes double for you. Any consumption of potions and I’ll have you repeating your third year faster than it takes you to form a sentence. Now, take out your books and turn to the first pages. Today we will be learning Wide Eye Potion.”

The class did not hesitate in obeying the Potions master and set to work. David was also extra careful to pay close attention to Merula and Ismelda, the latter of whom frightened the life out of Ben and never missed an opportunity to screw with his brew. However, Merula didn’t attempt to sabotage him today, nor did she whisper unsettling, annoying threats underneath her breath. Instead there was a pronounced smirk on her face, one that she occasionally threw his way. He did not care for it one bit.

After adding the two sprigs of wolfsbane and adding three counter-clockwise turns, David figured he’d brewed an acceptable concoction and placed a sample on Snape’s desk, who barely acknowledged his presence and waved him away. All in all, the class itself was uneventful. But Merula and her cronies weren’t done trying to antagonize him. After leaving the potions classroom, David and Rowan were again confronted by the Slytherin gang.

“You think you’re so amazing,” Merula snarled at him. “But you’ve had a team of people helping all along the way and taking the credit. Well that’s exactly what I have now. Wherever the next cursed vault is and whatever is inside it, it’s mine for the taking.”

David was about to retort but before he could, Barnaby interrupted. The hulking mass was easily the tallest among the group and was already just under six feet. When he spoke his voice was deep but surprisingly gentle.

“What do you think is inside the next Cursed Vault?” he wondered aloud more to himself than anyone else.

“I hope it’s something that can bring back the Dark Lord,” Ismelda said darkly. This caused Barnaby to look slightly fearful and the two Gryffindors extremely apprehensive.

“Maybe it’s something that can bring back Grant’s brother,” Merula said tapping a finger on her chin, her eyes up towards the sky. Her expression then turned back to her usual nasty leer. “On second thought, no one cares about that loser.”

As it was with David, he had very few sore spots, but his brother unfortunately was one of them. He could handle her usual barbs and insults, but if she needed another lesson when it came to talking badly about his family, he would teach it.

“I’d shut your mouth, Merula. Unless you want to duel again and we both know how that ended up the last two times.”

He stepped forward. She was still his equal in height but he held no fear of her. Malicious violet eyes clashed with the cold fury of hazel-blue ones and the tension was considerably heightened.

“You got lucky, Grant. You always get lucky. Next time, you’ll be begging for mercy…” Merula said dangerously.

“Didn’t you beg a bit when Grant beat you the last time?” Barnaby asked her stupidly. “People told me you cried too, but I could have sworn there was begging.”

It wasn’t until a few seconds passed that David realized the question was not a jab at Merula but a genuine one. He had heard Barnaby wasn’t the brightest candle in the room, even so his lack of brain power clearly irritated his leader.

“Shut up, Barnaby,” Merula growled. “Let’s go. This loser isn’t worth our time.”

She brushed past him, while Ismelda gave Rowan a rough shove. However, Barnaby did not immediately follow the two girls as he stared down at the Gryffindors in front of him, his face taking on a serious, stoic expression.

“If you mess with Merula, I’ll vanish all the bones in your body,” came the words. It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.

David sized up the burly Slytherin. This was probably not someone he wanted to tangle with both physically or in a duel. And yet there was something he didn’t understand.

“In case you haven’t noticed, she’s the one constantly messing with me,” he pointed out. “Why are you friends with her? She treats you like rubbish.”

“She treats everyone like rubbish, actually,” Rowan muttered.

“Merula says whatever is inside the vaults is something really powerful. If it makes me stronger, I want it. She’s the most cunning witch at Hogwarts and the only way I’ll ever get that power is to do exactly what she says.”

David resisted rolling his eyes at that logic. It was typical Slytherin speak. Power over everything else no matter how intelligent or moronic you were. In Barnaby’s case it was the latter.

“Is that what she told you?” he asked sincerely.

“Yes,” came the simple response.

“You ever think she might be lying in order to manipulate you?”

That gave Barnaby pause scrunching up his face as though he were trying to solve an incredibly difficult math equation. After a few moments, he frowned.

“Don’t try to make me think, Grant,” he growled, cracking his knuckles menacingly, multiple silver rings glinting as he did so. He too walked off to find the rest of his gang though he did not shove either one of them as Ismelda and Merula had.

“Is it just me, or was that conversation literally the stupidest thing I’ve ever been a part of?” David asked aloud.

“Barnaby is one of the strongest wizards in our year,” Rowan told him. “Has quite the reputation as a duelist. Even so he’s still thicker than a troll.”

“Even a bloody troll would know better than to trust Merula. Then again, I’m surprised that bloke knows how to put on his trousers properly in the morning.”

Rowan laughed and they continued on their way, but David couldn’t help but feel that his third year at Hogwarts might be the most challenging one yet. Between the possibility of another cursed vault and dealing with three hostile Slytherins as opposed to the usual one, the message was clear.

He had his work cut out for him. 

[writingsofmyimagination]

King and Queen |2|

Summary:  Jungkook becomes very needy before he goes on tour and becomes even more desperate when he gets back (Part 2 of a 2 Shot)

Jungkook x Reader

Words:2841

Warnings:Smut, Sub/Jungkook, Dom Reader, Switch!Jungkook, Light bondage, Swearing, Copious amounts of teasing.

Happy Reading :) Comment, Reblog :)

For the first time i’m actually  happy with my writing, love this one!

-Did you get my present?– 17:49

 -Yes, are we going to use it later? ;) – 17:51

 -No bunny, you’re going to use it now and wear it at the party for me – 17:53

 -What? Are you serious? That’ll be torture! – 17:57

 -That’s kind of the point, I want you desperate – 18:00

You smirk was nothing but wicked putting the remote control into your bag.

       -Are you really going to be that much of a tease after a whole month apart? – 18:04

       - Yes, now do as you’re told and I’ll see you in a bit baby, I’m leaving now – 18:06

You could feel the hum of the bass as you approached the boy’s dorm. The apartment was crowded and the loud music which thumped in your chest was marginally drowned out by the indistinct chatter of the guests. Jin was at the breakfast bar announcing loudly what he was putting in a lethal sounding cocktail; deciding that was a good starting point you made your way over to get a drink. You smiled and waved at some of the familiar staff that greeted you back with warm smiles.

“Hey Y/N good to see you! Here have a Jin special” he passed you a plastic cup of a bluey purple liquid.

“Thanks, good to see you back, where’s Kook?” You took a hesitant sniff of the drink attempting to assess its potency.

“I think he’s playing Mario Kart with Jimin” You raised the cup and took a mouthful, you tilted your head and nodded minimally to yourself; after the burn of the vodka the Chambord and Blue Curacao taste wasn’t so bad. Heading past dashes of groups,

“Wah!” the unmistakeable wail of J-Hope dragged your attention to the centre of the room, a huddle of people surrounding a twister mat. From the looks of the small bundle on the floor V had just collapsed on J-Hope causing a burst of laughter. You contracted the infectious laughter and chuckled, still slowly slipping your way through your drink. Yoongi was observing the chaos seated on the sofa, his left leg tucked under himself while sipping wine. Obviously.

You continued breaking through flurries of people until you heard the high adorable laugh of Jimin to you left, you followed it to the TV area. The two youngest were as Jin said. They were sat shoulder to shoulder nudging each other eyes frozen in front of them, Namjoon was sat on the floor cross legged leaning up against the sofa arm with equal amount of concentration. The boys were too engrossed on their last lap to notice your presence. They looked so relaxed, a surge of warmth and comfort hit your insides at the sight. You made your way behind the sofa and launched your arms over Jungkook’s chest and squeezed, kissing the side of his face with sweetness. He carried on staring at the screen for a few seconds until he finished in 1st.

“Yes!” a triumphant expression smacked on his face as he jumped up clapped and then yanked you into a desperate embrace. You struggled to keep your drink upright as you nuzzled as tightly into his neck as you possible could; drowning yourself in his intoxicating scent.

“I missed you so much” squeezing you even tighter.

“I missed you too Kook, can we go on the balcony? I’ve missed the view” asking cutely as if butter wouldn’t melt.

“Of course baby” he kissed you, but the kiss was laced with that familiar sense of urgency despite his cool appearance; it seeped through his iris’s flooding his eyes. You gripped his hand and followed him onto the balcony. You walked to the further right point of the balcony where the window section was now wall giving you privacy. Placing your bag down onto the glass table as you passed it. You turned and lent against the metal barrier and smirked. You watched with amusement as his expression evolved now he was alone, it transitioned from happy and relaxed to pained and frustrated.

“You look so beautiful when your frustrated Kookie”

“Can I please take it out now I’ve been good for you” his eye grew doe-eyed, the bambi look you called it; there was a pleasant tug between your legs. His arms draped around your shoulders, hands tracing over your neck. His touch sparking heat where his fingers met your skin.

“Not until I say so, and I want you to touch yourself first” He pulled back looking into your eyes flashing wickedly at him.

“What?”

“You heard me bunny, don’t pretend like you haven’t wanted to since putting that in” you grabbed his behind pulling him back into you the throaty groan that escaped from him told you were right.

“But out here?” his eyes flitted around before landing back on you grinning teasing your bottom lip.

“Out here, just for me” you reiterated. The sheepish expression failed to leave his face, you stroked your finger under his chin and leaned within kissing distance

“Don’t worry about anyone else, I’ll use the safe word if someone comes out. You folded your arms, your left pinky finger replaced your lower lip teasing it with your teeth and waited for Jungkook to start. His hand hesitated but eventually slipped beneath the thick waistband of his knee length Puma shorts.

Within moments his eyes closed, his head tilted back with his jaw open slightly. The exhaled breaths perfumed with long relief. You thighs pressed together, your arousal transferring to your lacy underwear.

“Such a good boy, look at you touching yourself on the balcony. So filthy” his hands moved faster, Jungkook never noticed you take the small remote from your bag which was no cocooned in your palm pressed to your waist. You clicked it.

“Ah fuck” he cried as the vibration against his prostate snapped his eyes to you. You held up the remote your lips twisted up.

“Don’t stop bunny.” His hands vigorously continued pumping himself. “God you look so good, I’d even let you fuck me into the mattress with my hands behind my back, but you won’t will you because you’re too much of a slut for me aren’t you”

“My queen, I’m not going to last much longer, I need to cum” he panted out.

“Well I can’t have you cumming yet. Stop!” You clicked the off button. He obeyed instantly his mouth still agape.

“So quick to listen bunny I’m impressed” your hand swept some of his hair free from his moist forehead and planted a delicate kiss. Your hands travelled up your thigh catching his gaze, your fingers laced with your arousal

“You can have a taste, you’ve been a good boy” He greedily sucked at your fingers, his eyes holding yours with a seductive magnetism.

“How about we go inside now I’ve had plenty of the view” You walked past reclaimed your drink and bag and headed inside, leaving him to try and hide his problem. You went to the bathroom unbuckled the thin red belt round your waist, unzipped your navy knee length skirt, pulled off your white and navy stripped shirt. The mirror reflected back what was left, a red corset style lingerie set, sheer floral lace that flatters your bare skin, a triangular bust with a low rise open mesh back. The thong to match was low slung and left my hips exposed. The suspenders were clipped onto black stockings. After a few attempts you got the angle you were happy with and sent it.

-Photo.jpg – 19:37

 -You are going to be the death of me – 19:38.

You redressed quickly after taking of the thong and went back to the main room. You wanted to see his face, you knew you were being probably a bit too much of a tease but you wanted to see if you could tease him to switch.

All the boys had come together and were sat across two sofas facing each other. J-Hope was stood up with a large whiteboard attempting to draw a picture for the others to guess, his cheeks were flushed red with intoxication. You scooted past Yoongi and Namjoon and took a seat on Jungkooks lap. You had to snatch up the pillow he’d placed there first. He shuffled uncomfortably but smiled at you that bunny smile regardless. His arm snaked round your waist, his fingertips more firmly planted as an outlet for his frustration.

“Hey Jungkook why you so quiet, do you not want to win anymore?” J-Hope said standing proud of his artwork as the others were frantically guessing around us.

“Yeah, c’mon Kook we’re ahead!” Yoongi scolded. You took a swig of your drink hiding the smirk that was growing upwards.

“Sorry, uh,…”

“Jurassic Park?” you cut in saving him from tumbling over his words.

“Woah! Yes good job!” J Hope said looking astounded. The others huffed and J-Hope sat back down.

“Yoongi you go draw for us this time” you suggested. When he left you didn’t take his seat and remained on Jungkook’s lap. You slid your underwear into his left hand. He shuffled again, he must be getting very uncomfortable now with his erection tucked and compressed away. He whined almost inaudibly.

“No whining, don’t make me use the remote” Anguish blanketed his face, your ground your ass into his tensed thigh

“You have no idea how wet you’ve made me bunny. You’re so good for me” your tone a whisper in his ear.

“Please stop teasing noona, It’s too much” he responded equally as quiet. You had one more idea and if he still didn’t cave you’b be sure to make him suffer until tears streamed from him eyes and he could hardly beg from pure exhaustion. Without saying a word you left and went to Jungkook’s room knowing he wouldn’t follow because that would be too obvious.

Licking your lips you went straight to his bed and made yourself comfortable turning lamps on making the room glow with ambience and once again stripping down to just your lingerie. You ghosted your hand down your body, over the swell of your breast, passed your navel in a delicate motion down to your throbbing bud.

“Aah” You exhaled, rolled your head back into the sheets, shocked at how wet you’d managed to tease yourself to. Every inch of your skin yearned for Jungkook’s attention and touch. Hopefully it wouldn’t be long as you clicked send on the video. You wasn’t going to wait for him either your body ached too much, impatient you got up and went to the chest of draws on your side of the bed near the door and slid open the third draw. Your eyes flurried, scanning over all the toys in front of you, picturing how each of them will make you feel sent your mind into overdrive.

The door clicked open, Jungkook’s face was flushed, and it swirled into a chimera of determination and wildness as his eyes followed to the contents of the draw. You halted all movement, looking up through innocent flutters of your eyelashes, mouth slightly agape; tongue guilty poking out from the corner of your lips.

“You’re not going to want any of that when I’ve fucked you” his words were rushed through a heavy breath, which you caught the end of as his lips met with yours with unbridled starvation. One of his hands pressed gently at your throat, his hips knocking into you forcing you back closing the draw of goodies.

“You’ve pushed me today sweetheart” his other hand aggressive with its grip round my wrist. He manipulated me around, my mid-section pressed roughly against the draw. A hand pulled my ass away from the draw, his foot kicked at my ankle spreading my legs. His shirt was on the ground within seconds, his fist tangled and pulling at hair within a couple more. His free hand travelled down your side, nails nipping into your skin the whole way. His palm followed he curve of your back and over your behind squeezing firm. You rewarded him a moan, your open mouth quickly took the shape of victory. His hand drifted down and felt you from behind.

“You’ve missed me as much as I have you haven’t you?” there was no trace of the sweet Jungkook with that voice and boy did it feed your arousal not to mention your ego. The fact you could rile him up enough to dominate was a challenge you gladly liked to accept sometimes when you needed it. He yanked at your hair again when you didn’t respond.

“Aah fuck, yes!” You curled your fingers atop the drawers where they were keeping you balanced. Your head dropped feeling his tip gliding through your folds before he stopped, hesitating. He leaned and reached for a draw to his right and fumbled with one hand and grabbed a pair of fur-lined leather cuffs. If your body was built of ice it would melt rapidly with the heat rising in your stomach, smiling to yourself like a sly fox as he captured your wrists behind your back. Pulling at the cuffs he more or less launched you onto the bed, you landed on your side with a shallow bounce.

“Ass up kitten, where’s the remote?  I don’t want you having that now” you took a breath and realised he was still obeying you and hadn’t taken it out.

“On the side” you mumbled shifting yourself into position, your face half buried into the mattress. His shoulders dropped, happy with your response apparently. He dropped his clothes in such a rush you thought he’d fall. Climbing up behind you, your anticipation at boiling point.

Nothing.

You shuffled trying feebly to ascertain what the fuck he was playing it.

Pulsing vibrations diffused from your core, the power of your vibrating wand undeniable. You turned your head fully into the sheets camouflaging your cry as he alternated the power from off to on continuously.

“Is this what you wanted princess? Or do you want something else?” he already knew the answer.

“I… want you” you panted.

“Oh come on Y/N, that beg would not be good enough you, I’m sure as hell not going to let it be” he was right; and you’d underestimated how much you needed him and you was more than happy in your current state to beg for it.

“Kook… your queen needs your cock… so bad…I need you fucking me so hard…into this mattress… until I’m cumming so hard around your cock…please” your plea couldn’t sound anymore desperate if you tried. He turned off the wand for the final time and launched it on the floor.

“Fucking hell babe, I had no idea you could beg like that” not being able to restrain himself any longer after hearing you beg for him like that he slammed himself into you. The room was filled with both your cries of relief fully culminated. You loved when he came home from tour, the passion, the lust and the rush to just fuck each other. It’s like you both needed it before any of your normal relationship with each other could continue. Both being so needy it never lasted long but in the heat of it, it felt like hours. You were both breathing hot and heavy, you felt the moisture creep in a forming a layer where his hands clenched around your hips. Your shoulders felt the bleeding of ache seep in. Your muscles deep in your abdomen tightened, you were conscious of your cries becoming louder and buried your face again. Jungkook moans, almost rhythmic were slowly becoming deeper and sounded more like grunts. You almost wailed when Jungkook hand grabbed your hair again and pulled your face free from the sheets.

“I want to hear you when you cum” He didn’t have to wait long, your body refused to hold on to the tension anymore.

“Fuck…Jungk…” your body washed over with bliss, he carried on thrusting into you, unrelenting. Overwhelming your core with oversensitivity until his hips jerked into your behind, your walls clenching around him dragging every bit of cum from him. His grunt was so guttural and deep. Your breath had just about steadied when he rolled beside you un-clipping the metal links of the cuffs. You slumped your bottom half down before stretching some life back into your muscles. A weary satisfied smirk rested on your face.

“You cum so hard when you have something up your ass” he responded with an agreeing smile. “You did good bunny better than I ever expected” you rolled onto your front and rested your head on your hands.

“I did good?” he paused “You wound me up on purpose didn’t you? I was never really in control was I”

Your grin gave away everything. His head shook amused with half-hearted betrayal.

“But it was cute that you thought you were” you chuckled in a light breath. You patted his chest sarcastically and stretched and gave him a delicate, love filled kiss on his forehead.

[quiet-onset]

Pâro (2)

Pairing: Cap!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,532

Tag List: @thisisbullshytt, @here-for-your-bullshit, @unknownuserhasjoined, @bees-are-more-important, @catvader1o1, @i-bitch-you-bitch, @slavsher, @thefridgeismybestie

Bucky groaned when six in the morning rolled around. He turned over in his bed and hit his alarm clock in a blind search for the snooze button. Sadly, he hit it too hard, and it broke.

He let out another loud groan while he sat up against the headboard. He had been up all night, thinking back to his fight with MODOK. He had been trying to discover his motives for attacking New York out of the blue. Not to mention, he seemed hyper-focused on Bucky alone. Bucky had let the thoughts fill his head until nearly four in the morning when sleep finally took over.

He shook his head and wiped his eyes, preparing to get ready for the day. He grabbed his phone as it lit up with a text from Bruce.

Call the team for a meeting in the morning. Think I’ve got something on this MODOK guy.

Bucky let out a sigh and called FRIDAY. “Let the team know we’ve got a briefing at ten.”

“Of course, Captain.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed for but a moment until he remembered. He was Captain now. It was still hard to get used to. He wondered how Steve did it for so long. He’d barely had the position for two months, and he was already exhausted. On the other hand, he was glad that Steve was finally getting what he deserved. His own little happily ever after.

It was an inspiration, really. Something to hope for. If Steve could have that, maybe the rest of them could eventually have it, too.

Hours later, everyone had gathered in the conference room. Thor brought everyone coffee, and Peter picked up a box of donuts on the way in. It all seemed kind of normal for a moment. Then, Bruce turned on the projector, and that damned floating head was staring at them.

Normal is overrated, right?

“This is MODOK. At least, that’s what everyone calls him.” Bruce said. “It stands for Mental Organism Designed for Only Killing.”

“Well, that’s just peachy,” Thor said sarcastically.

“He’s an experiment gone wrong from AIM.”

“Wait, AIM? Advanced Idea Mechanics? That AIM?” Tony asked.

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “You’ve heard of them?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t. They’re a branch of HYDRA. They basically design as much tech as they can in hopes of overthrowing literally every government on Earth.”

“Again,” Thor said. “Peachy.”

“Well, I can’t find any files on his real identity.” Bruce continued. “They must be destroyed or hidden with a complex encryption. We’d have to break into AIM’s headquarters.”

“Sounds like a plan, let’s go.” Peter stood up, ready to go.

“Kid, wait.” Bucky stopped him. “We can’t go in there half-cocked. This MODOK guy is ridiculously smart, and their security is probably heightened now. We need to do recon and come up with a plan.”

Peter huffed and sat back down, itching to help. “Okay, well how about we ask the civilians that were around when the attack started?”

“Good thinking, Pete.” Tony nodded.

Bucky agreed as he stood. “I want Sam, Tony, Rhodey, and Peter on recon. The aerial view should help. Everyone else, go around the city and start questioning.”

Everyone started filing out of the room as Bucky began tidying up the conference room. Bruce and Tony looked at him with amused eyes, holding back their chuckles. “You know we have people for that,” Tony told him.

“I know,” Bucky said. He looked up as he put all the trash in the donut box. “Just thought I’d help.”

“Right.” Tony drawled out. “By the way, you being on the questioning detail is purely professional, right?”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” Bruce repeated. “Because why would we want someone with military experience on the recon team?”

“Sam and Rhodey were both in the military.” Bucky pointed out with an eye roll.

“So, there’s no other reason? No pretty-girl kind of reason?” Tony asked.

Bucky was caught completely off guard. He didn’t know they knew about you; he didn’t tell them. He found no reason to tell anyone. You were just a woman he saved. A woman amongst a sea of people he had protected. Yet, you were the only one in that sea of people who he couldn’t stop thinking about. There was just something about you that kept you on his mind. He kept telling himself it was the timing, but he knew, deep down, that it was more than that.

Tony chuckled, “Bucky, I’m a genius, and Bruce has seven PhDs. It was simple deduction.”

“Plus, we saw you save her,” Bruce added.

“Look, I just think it’d be easier if I talk to her. She’s talked to me before; she’ll be comfortable talking to me again.” Bucky said defensively.

“Sure, sure,” Tony said with a smirk. “Go ahead. We got this.”

Bucky exited the room with another poignant eye roll, leaving Tony and Bruce alone. Bruce was staring at the feed of you just before Bucky saved you on a loop. Bruce wasn’t sure what was wrong with the picture. Something just didn’t sit right with him. Tony placed a hand on his shoulder, “You good?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just..” Bruce shook his head. “She doesn’t look scared to you, does she?”

“Scared?”

“Yeah. Anyone in their right mind would be terrified at the sight of a pillar coming straight for them. But she doesn’t. She looks surprised, but not scared.”

“Everyone reacts differently, Bruce. You know that.” Tony said with an amused tone. “Besides, isn’t it time Bucky had something good in his life?”

“Yeah. You’re right. Guess I’m just overanalyzing again.”

“As usual.” Tony joked.

“Funny.” Bruce said sarcastically. “Look, I’ll get in contact with Shuri. See if she can help me hack into these AIM files.”

“You do that. And buddy, relax, alright?”

Tony didn’t wait for an answer before exiting the room, knowing that Bruce would only nod halfheartedly. And Bruce did just that, nodded to himself as he stared at the photo of you. Something just didn’t sit right with him, and he was determined to figure out what it was.

—

Bucky wasn’t sure what to expect when he pulled up to your house on his motorcycle. New York was different now. He didn’t know exactly how people lived anymore. But when he parked in a small neighborhood just outside of Hell’s Kitchen, he smiled.

Everything was so familiar. Children playing in the streets. Adults outside playing cards. It was one of those rare neighborhoods where everyone was a family. It seemed fitting for you to live there. Somewhere happy.

The kids stopped and watched as Bucky walked to the nearby apartment building. Some of the parents pulled their children back or shielded their eyes; he tried not to take that to heart. He could hear the murmurs but would never admit that they almost made him falter.

He just smiled kindly and kept moving.

Upon entering the apartment building, he walked to the elevator, repeating the number to himself, 506. He pressed the button, only to be called by the desk attendant, a teenager with bright purple hair.

“‘S broken. Stairs are to your right.” She said, not even looking up from her magazine.

He turned his head and hummed to himself. “Alright then.”

Minutes later, he stood in front of your door and raised his fist, knocking on your door. There was a commotion behind the door that had him on edge, ready to pounce. He heard voices whispering back and forth at each other. He was just about to kick in the door when a couple exited from one apartment over, clearly in the middle of a fight.

Oh, Bucky thought. Must’ve been next door.

He shrugged to himself and raised his fist to knock again, but you opened the door before he could. You looked a little disheveled, but you smiled when you saw him. “Cap.”

“Call me Bucky.”

“Bucky, right. Sorry it took so long, I dropped my coffee pot just as you knocked so—“

“It’s no problem, really.” He assured you. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Oh, of course not. Come in.”

You stepped aside, allowing the tall man to walk past you. You led him to the living room, and he smiled. You folded your arms across your chest, turning to him sheepishly. “It’s not much. Kinda small, but it’s enough for me.”

“No, no. It’s nice.” He said, almost as if he were reminiscing. “Small, cozy. I like it.”

You fiddled with your hands, watching him take in his surroundings. He seemed a bit nervous, but you were sure that your humble abode brought him some kind of familiar comfort. You watched as he glanced at your window seat down the hall, admiring the sheer amount of books for but a second. As he turned once more, his eyes landed on the floor next to you, and, suddenly, you remembered the broken pot on the floor. “Shit, I totally forgot.”

You picked up a handheld broom and dustpan and began to sweep up the broken glass when Bucky joined you on the floor. “Here, let me.” He told you.

“Wow.” He said, noticing the new bracelet on your now brace-free wrist. “You heal fast.”

You looked down, remembering that it was no longer there. “Oh yeah. It wasn’t super serious, so it healed pretty quickly.”

“Right.” Bucky nodded.

He thought nothing of it as he swept up the last of the glass, handing it to you so you could throw it away. When you turned back around, you had a sweet smile on your lips, the kind that made Bucky’s heart skip a beat.

He was nervous, he could admit that. Back in the forties, he was much more confident in himself, so getting the girl (or girls, in some cases) was never a problem. But times were different now, and Bucky was, too. His confidence had dwindled, and he shut himself off. It was just now, looking at your smile, that made him begin to reconsider being the self-proclaimed loner.

“I’d offer you coffee but.” You looked around and huffed, gesturing to your potless coffee maker. “What about tea?”

Bucky smiled and nodded. “Tea would be great.”

He had lost his train of thought as he watched you put a kettle on. You moved around so swiftly and softly. It was mundane, but it was fascinating to him. His entire life had been nothing short of hard and rough, so having such a graceful being in front of him was astounding.

He turned on his heel and took a deep breath. Focus.

“Well, um, I’m here on official Avengers business and—“

“Official Avengers business?” You asked, a teasing smile on your lips.

He chuckled, “Yes. I, uh, I need to ask you some questions about the day of MODOK’s attack.”

“MODOK is his name? What does that stand for?”

“Mental Organism Designed Only for Killing.”

“Oh.” You said, taken aback. “Isn’t that pleasant.”

“Do you mind if I…?”

“Oh, please, ask away.”

Bucky tried his best to treat you as anybody else he would question. He had to remind himself that he couldn’t give leeway just because you’re pretty. Very pretty, in fact.

“What brought you to the area the day of the attack?”

“Work, actually. I work at an accounting firm, but I, uh, was on my lunch break. Trying this pizzeria all my coworkers were raving about, Jerry’s.” You told him. “I was on my way back to work when I saw people running in the opposite direction.”

“Then?”

“Then, MODOK threw a pillar at me, and you saved me.”

Bucky hummed as he approached the mantle. He looked at all the pictures, smiling at some of the childhood ones. You walked up behind him and sucked in a breath. “Already looking at my baby pictures, huh? I just wanna say, I was a dorky kid, but I think I’ve outgrown that.”

“They’re cute pictures.” He chuckled.

He scanned the pictures, watching as you got older in each one. Then, he came across one of you and a guy with wide smiles. You both wore Harvard sweatshirts, so he assumed it was from college. “You went to Harvard?” He asked.

When you saw the pictures, your smile faded almost instantly. “Um, yeah. That’s my best friend, George. Or, he was my best friend.”

Bucky froze, “Did he…?”

“Oh, no. No, we just... had a really bad falling out.”

Just then, kettle began to whistle loudly, interrupting your conservation. You were grateful for it; as much as you liked talking to Bucky, you hated talking about George. Your falling out had been fairly recent, so talking about it was like cutting open a healing wound.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Bucky turned as you walked back to the kitchen, clearly uncomfortable with the topic at hand.

“It’s alright.” You said. “You couldn’t have known.”

Moments later, you returned with two small mugs of tea. You handed one to Bucky carefully, reminding him that it was hot. “It’s, uh, called Country Peach. Hope you don’t mind.”

He chuckled at the name but shook his head. “It’s perfect, thanks.”

“C’mon.” You smiled, beckoning him down the hall. “Let’s sit.”

Bucky followed you to the window seat he’d noticed before. It was nice, almost like a small, plush couch fit into the window, bookshelves on either wall. His brow furrowed as he noticed the window was wide open, the fire escape just on the outside. “Wasn’t this closed when I came in?” He asked.

“Maybe.” You answered. You watched as he set the mug on the windowsill and closed it for you. Your mind wandered briefly when you saw his biceps moving under the dark green shirt he wore, but you quickly regained your senses. “The wind can blow it open sometimes.”

“That’s not safe, y’know.” He said as he secured the window as best he could. He peered out the closed window once more before sitting down.

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to find someone to fix it, but the base prices are ridiculous.” You mentioned, sitting next to him while sipping your tea.

“I could fix it.” He said nonchalantly. “Y’know, for free.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Bucky.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” He smiled when you looked away, trying to hide your shy grin behind your mug. “Back in the day, Steve’s place had a really crappy window, so we fixed it together.”

“Steve Rogers?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah. Plus, it could be nice. Having a side project to work on where I’m just Bucky—“

“Not Captain.”

He was surprised, how easily you understood his struggle without him even having to say it. “Exactly.”

You thought about it for a moment, then set your mug down with a playful gaze. “Under one condition.”

“Name it.” He mimicked your actions.

“I get to help.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” He joked. “But alright.”

You stuck your hand out for a deal-sealing handshake, making him chuckle. He shook it with a smile on his face, almost just like your own. “Looks like you’re my new contractor.”

“Looks like it.”

[thehollowprince]

I read this thing by Michael's actor saying he's a tragic figure & I had to laugh, because it's such peak white boy interpretation, of Michael as tragic because everyone "uses" him as if he isn't grown (he's not a child lol) and bemoans the witches viewing him as evil, despite him being the Antichrist + was excited about "killing their entire fucking coven" before they even knew him. Yet stans eat it up + cheer on witches dying yet also say they're obligated to ~redeem~ Michael lol

People bring up Michael’s tragic childhood and how no child deserved that, but they swoon over him slaughtering the witches, even the ones who never even met or harmed him, and some were most likely teenagers at most. And he talks about “saving” the world but he could’ve ended capitalism and exploitation of resources but naw, apocalypse time. Also, his edgy little “all humans are evil motherfuckers” line that his fans love is so eye roll inducing 🙄 yet he just needs luv right?

I got these yesterday and I’m sorry that it took me so long to get to them, but I was at work when they arrived and then I had a dentist appointment.  But now I’m all rested up and ready to tackle this.

It’s funny you should mention this, especially how many months after AHS: Apocalypse ended, because I’m pretty sure I haven’t posted anything about it since, but that’s alright because I’m always ready to stand by my opinions.  No, the funny comes from my best friend, who I got together with a week or so ago (the first time we’d been able to get together in about a month) and she was telling me about how she had to use the tag filtering function on Tumblr for the first time and the tag she blocked was Cody Fern.  Apparently one or more of the people she followed just suddenly became a Cody Fern appreciation blog and did that horrible stan thing where they waxed poetically about the actor and the characters they play, no matter how horrible.

And that was one of the things I didn’t get through the season.  Why so many people were so damn thirsty for this character?  I mean, had they never seen a pale, white twink before?  Was Slenderman suddenly a sex symbol?  It baffled me.  Especially considering how the character of Michael was introduced into that season, as a knock-off Lestat.  I mean… that wig and the velvet jacket?  (Shudder).  I mean, to each their own, but I still didn’t get it.

The other stuff, though; the woobification of the villain/antagonist of a series isn’t anything new, especially if they’re played by even a moderately attractive white man.  (Note: he doesn’t even have to be attractive)  This is something I’ve seen for years across multiple fandoms.  I’ve even made posts about it before, and complained about how disturbing it is that women (because fandom is overwhelmingly female) are so quick to put down any and all female protagonists in the name of wanting to fuck whatever pasty white guy is the villain.

Just within the show of American Horror Story we have literally every character that’s been played by Evan Peters (another guy that girls scream about how attractive he is but I just don’t see it).

But then we also have things like

Kylo Ren

Damon Salvatore

Klaus Mikaelson

Kai Parker

Theo Raeken

Stiles Stilinski

Severus Snape

Loki Laufeyson

And these are just the examples that come to me right off the top of my head from the shows and movies and books that I’ve seen/read.  I’m more than positive that if I were to branch out into other fandoms I’d find the same exact thing with just a different character.  The sheer amount of people that will stan a mediocre white guy yet completely ignore (and often villainize) any POC hero is astounding.  Just going off of the list I have above, we have characters like Scott McCall and Finn (from Star Wars) that are completely brushed under the rug to make way for either the sidekick or the actually antagonist of the story.  I’ve seen thesis-length metas about how they were really the villains of the story and that the true heroes were these other characters that they coincidentally wanted to bang (in this case, Stiles and Kylo).

People, it’s alright to like a villain.  I have plenty of villains I like and even sometimes root for, but to do so by twisting the character and turning them into the hero of the story (therefor making them totally OOC from their actual incarnation in the show/book/movie/etc.) just screams that you want to fuck the actor.  It’s not that hard to just make thirst posts about the actor (as cringy as some of them are) as opposed to tearing down every other character in a fandom in an effort to make the villain you like “redeemable”.

I know I got away from the point of the asks and the topic of Michael Langdon, but I just see this happen so often that they all sort of blur together for me.  Sorry anon(s).

[averagedoctor]

could you possibly do an imagine where y/n swears in front of the doctor and he's like taken back? love your work so much!

Sure! Thank you so much!!!! This is lowkey word vomit by the way and deviated quite a bit? I got an ask very similar to this one though so I’ll be doing both with two different stories. Sorry for this one not being anything too good!

The time you swore in front of the Doctor, the TARDIS got invaded, and you got shot:

Word count: 1,355

Pronouns: gender neutral

TWs: cursing, gun, injury, blood

Tagging: @evyiione (if you’d like to be added to this list, shoot me a message! i also keep forgetting about this oops)

- you cursed A LOT in your head, nearly all the time, but you tried to never say any of them. of course, a few slipped out here and there, but only when you were alone and no one could possibly hear you

- since traveling with the Doctor, there had been many times when a steady stream of curses was running their way through your head as your only inner dialogue. none of that ever made it out of your mouth though, and it could probably be classified as astonishing that that never happened

- one faithful day, however, your streak of not cursing aloud broke.

- you had just been minding your own business with some earbuds in listening to music. it was a pretty chill day so far, as you had just woken up, and the Doctor was off somewhere in the TARDIS by himself

- figuring you had some free time to yourself, you plopped down with a book and turned the music up loud

- the only drawback with that was you could hear absolutely NOTHING with those in so when you felt something cold point into the back of your neck, you went rigid with fear and mouthed “s**t” as you held your hands up in surrender. next, you slowly removed your earbuds, dropping them on the floor

- your attacker commanded you to stand and paraded you into the console room where the Doctor was handcuffed to a set of railings. he immediately started tugging at his restraints when he saw you, a look of remorse on his face

- the man pointing a gun at you chained you up next to the Doctor where he started to profusely apologize and whisper to you what exactly was happening

- TDLR: the TARDIS was being broken into by rouges who were bent on ransacking her for goods and whatever else they could find in there that had a shred of value. they managed to get onboard with the help of stolen Vortex Manipulators and had now tied you and the Doctor to a railing. he wasn’t sure on your chances for survival, but was playing it off with optimism as always

- in total, there were 5 thieves on board and one was assigned to guard the pair of you. when he had his head turned, the Doctor motioned for you to quickly reach into his jacket and fish out his sonic screwdriver. just barely managing to scrape it out, he maneuvered it in a way so he could unlock the handcuffs

- this, obviously, got the guard’s attention and you sent him down with a piercing blow to the head. the Doctor was shocked, and a little appalled at your use of violence, but told you sternly that he’d talk to you about that later

- you just rolled your eyes, bellowing curses in your mind at the man you knocked down for his and his group’s audacity to break in

- the Doctor and you took the hallways with caution, him with his screwdriver extended, and you clutching a piece of clutter you had picked up along the way. he wasn’t too happy with your choice to do that but straightened his bow tie and continued on. he couldn’t have understood that you wanted the option to defend yourself so as not to be at the mercy of whoever you would be facing

- slowly treading down the hall, you passed a room with a door ajar and four voices arguing inside. the Doctor shoved you against the wall as he also flattened himself so both of you could listen in

- it seemed like they couldn’t figure out what to grab and that one of the people in there was nervous about stealing. by his tone of voice, apprehension to take anything, and need to go check on where you guys were supposedly tied up, he seemed frightened and that his morals were beginning to crash down on him. the rest of the party quickly shut him up with blunt remarks as the clatter of objects signaled the purge of all valuables in the room

- the Doctor took that moment to burst in with his ever so charming style of crashing into plans and surprised the gang inside. taking a few deep breaths, you hauled yourself in as well. knees

- at first, they were shocked that you had managed to get in there, but got over that pretty quickly. you were tense and watched with wary eyes to see what moves they could possibly make. however, the leader simply blew a kiss at the Doctor, fired a shot off her gun, and they vanished away into time

- a burning pain ripped through your side as you watched them leave and you fell to the ground with a grunt. gasping, you looked at your side and screamed “F*CK!” and various other awful words as blood pooled in your hands and the pain began to flare through your body

- the Doctor was really shocked at that, not only because you got shot, but also because of the words uttered out of your mouth with such ferocity that he was a little afraid of the outburst

- he quickly rushed to your side anyway and hobbled you down to the medical area while you muttered curses with every step taken

- he finally got you on a table and started patching you up. catching sight of how much blood there was and the sheer amount of pain beginning to settle fully, you passed out. hours later, you fluttered your eyes open to find the Doctor pacing nervously around the room. you made a strangled sort of noise and he instantly rushed over, clearly relieved to see you had woken up

- after getting you some water, he quietly asked you to.. uh… not curse as much please. basically, he was asking if you could keep it PG. you could tell the topic made him uncomfortable so of course you complied. you did laugh though at the fact that he couldn’t handle your amount of cursing. he looked like an embarrassed student admitting they were wrong, but obviously he hadn’t done anything wrong in this situation, it was just his preference

-  when the gunshot healed up more (easier to do with alien medical tech) the Doctor revealed to you his thoughts with what all went down. as soon as those first few colorful words left your mouth, he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. it made sense of course for you to be talking like that, but he was astounded. walking you down the hallway was a trip for his ears, hearing you say things you had never once uttered around him in the past. he described it as “eye opening” and you burst out into a fit laughter to which the Doctor cracked a shy smile. the laughter was cut off quite abruptly by your healing side however, which jerked you to silence

- as you steadied your breathing, the Doctor looked at the ground and confessed how scared for you he was. he was so horribly afraid that you were going to die from that gun shot. he wasn’t much of a medical doctor, at least for wounds like what you had, despite what his name would suggest. the only reason you were saved was from the advanced technology he had onboard and the fact that the bullet hadn’t hit anything vital. tears welled in his eyes and you found your breath stuttering in your chest as you realized how close to dying you had been. the Doctor enveloped you in a hug and you muttered “ow, s**t” into his ear which had him jerking back quick. turns out he had hugged just a little too tight for now. you apologized for cursing at him and he retaliated at the same time by apologizing for hurting you and it turned into an apology competition for who could say it louder and it ended in the both of you breaking down into laughter

[kirintorfanboy]

Aperture

The house had been quiet without the boy around. Whether it was the constant shuffling of bare feet across the bedroom floor, or the accidental fumble of a book atop the same surface, there was never a moment of peaceful silence within the Granders’ residence. An ambiance his father had grown to find comfort in.

While Judas’ scholarly endeavors often kept him from home throughout the day’s entirety, the boy himself thought it a crime to not return once finished even if the hour be ridiculously late. The door always tossed open out of excitement-- for each day the young magi learned something was a day well spent --only to scare his father awake and hardly allow him time to prepare for the verbal onslaught of knowledge Judas was ready to unleash from his lessons. The man would listen with interest, smile his way through, and eventually bid his son goodnight as he dragged his feet through a tired fog into the refuge of his bed.

The next day would bring a similar pattern. Rinsed, repeated, and revered. But not as of late. 

Judas hadn’t been seen for days now, his father cycling through several scenarios despite knowing nothing with the boy was predictable. The man’s curiosity of course eventually got the best of him, and though a deal was made years ago to keep him away from the scholar’s room in favor of not disrupting the organized chaos that his items were positioned in, his concern weighed too heavy. 

The bedroom’s door swung upon without a creak nor croak, swaying a steady path until flattened against the adjacent wall. The door’s pause brought upon an immediate flood of candlelight, multiple candelabras hanging from wooden supports lining the room’s walls igniting into a vibrant display of several colors; some violet, others azure, even mossy green. With the added normalcy of standard candles, the area established itself as a lively atmosphere of glowing entropy that matched the boy’s personality. The space itself was a wide circle, lofting high into a domed ceiling that Judas’ mother had enchanted before his birth to reveal the star-speckled night sky once the overhead sun had set. Voile fabrics of cerulean began a draping hang from the ceiling’s base, falling down either side of the sizable bookshelves that lined every inch of the room’s walls between supports to pool in a small bouts along the hickory wood floor. Stacks compiled of tomes, encyclopedias, stories, and various other literature sat front of the bookshelves due to their utter lack of space-- seeing as the magi had somehow managed to fill every shelf so taut in pages that one would have to force their desired book free. At the far end of the room opposite of the door was the only space free of an occupying bookshelf, the wall instead consumed in a sizable window overlooking the city’s lower streets from the small alcove it rested in. The window’s borders were lined in stained glass of violet that reflected the inner candlelight to emanate a soft glow behind identical curtains to those falling from the ceiling’s upper reaches. Where the window ended at it’s lower edge is where Judas’ bed began, protruding out from the wall until it met with the bookshelves’ circling border. As to be expected given the rest of the room’s state, the boy’s bed was overflowing in heavy blankets and a questionable amount of pillows, enough to supply three beds as opposed to his one. 

The last remaining feature of Judas’ room, the one his father had even come in for, was the desk sitting directly center. Resting upon a rug that almost covered the floor’s entire surface, the rounded furniture was crafted of dark oak and embellished with the magi’s favorite stone around it’s curved design: sapphire. The desk was a reflection of the magi’s working mind, a tumultuous collection of trinkets, tomes, quills, folded fabrics, empty vials and mugs, various stones, wands-- if a wizard were to ever wield it, it could be found upon this table. Though despite the lawless accumulation of objects that none save for Judas would be able to navigate, his father was swift to find his target. Purposefully charmed to float in plain sight was a rolled parchment bound in violet ribbon, patiently awaiting it’s intended reader. A concerned exhale sounded from the man as he took a gingerly pace forward, his mind beginning to consider whether or not it was wise to turn back around if the written letter contained a truth he didn’t wish to learn. His worry outweighed his hesitance, however, and in only a moment’s time was the parchment taken into hand and flattened out between palms. In the boy’s impeccable penmanship, it read;

Dear Father, 

I will begin this letter with the apology you are rightfully owed for leaving without word, I know such disorder is considerably unbecoming of me. Forgive me if you are reading this days after I have left it, for I know your fear of the worst has likely risen if such is the case. I assure you I am in no danger, at least not anymore. 

When you finally allowed me my leave of Dalaran two years ago, I could not be more excited to explore every land of lore I had only read about in my years of study. To meet those who have wielded the arcane for thousands of years, to walk ruins of ancient civilizations that shaped the very world we lived over, to familiarize myself with cultures I was shamefully ignorant to; had I the ability, I would have conjured mimics of myself to see it all at once. I was finally being given the chance to become the person mother once was, or at least begin to.

I met brilliant people! Brave soldiers, wise druids, resourceful scouts.. I was astounded by the sheer variety of life that I had been missing out on. They all told me grand tales of treasure hunts and wild escapes, my mind could hardly manage to imagine all of the possibilities before me. The knowledge I could now acquire with my new freedom made me feel as if I was a little kid again finally understanding the world I was living in.

My endeavors did not go how I intended them too. I was requested to kill enemies I knew little of. Guided into expeditions I was unequipped for on the promise I would learn much from it, only to find myself in threatening trouble. Asked to work alongside criminals on the empty assurance that their cause was just. Abandoned by mentors for reasons unknown to me. I even fell in love, father, and they have disappeared on me same as I have done to you.

This world is not what I thought it to be. People’s intentions are sinister, selfish-- if I continue to serve their interests, I will never be allowed the scholarly path I have always wanted. I refuse to continue being put in danger’s way. I have sought out a mentor I believe truly fit for me, and together we are travelling in search of the understanding I have been looking for. Away from others, away from harm. Once completed I will return home, this I promise. It won’t be long. 

I know you will understand, father. You always have. I have left fragile stone atop my windowsill engraved with runes for you to take. Should there be an emergency when you need me, you may shatter it-- I will be brought to you. I trust you will only use it if necessary.

Stay safe, father. I eagerly await the day when I can tell you of my journey.

                                                                                          Love, Judas

A nod was given, and the letter rolled back to it’s original state. The man was hardly one to cry at moments like these, but his heavy expression spoke all of the sadness otherwise given through tears. Three days had been difficult enough as is without Judas’ lively presence, and now he was given an indefinite time frame of absence. Because the boy had gotten hurt, and he wasn’t able to do anything to prevent it. After a near half hour of standing still in ringing silence, his father turned to take his leave from the room. Giving a final glance towards the window before swinging the door back shut, he gave a sorrowful scan of the enchanted ceiling before whispering a repeated departure to ears that couldn’t receive it. 

“Stay safe, son.”

[taytcanterbury]

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What Is The Difference Between A Cat Spraying And Peeing

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[i-w-p-chan]

The Feelings of a Fanboy

Summary: Whenever Izuku is Emotional, his Quirk reacts by kicking him into high gear. Unfortunately (?) for Izuku, it happens half the time.

Note: Who even let me…

WARNINGS: Kinda Cracky In Places, Creative Usage of Feels, Quirk!Izuku, Self-Indulgent Quirk Rambling, Canon Events Slipped In-Between Izuku Mentally Rambling About His Quirk, No Really, Artistic License: Physics And Sound Waves, Jumps Around Canon Events.

Disclaimer: Don't own BNHA.

.

Midoriya Izuku's Quirk was… unique, to say the least.

At first, people assumed it was a speed-enhancing Quirk.

.

Four year-old Izuku tugged at his mother's skirt as he pointed at the hero figurines on display; his mother promised to buy him one of All Might and he was so excited, he was vibrating in place.

Inko smiled at her son as she walked over to the store's entrance.

Her son, in his excitement, ran up ahead of her.

Except, when he ran, he was a blur shooting with impressive speed forward. Impressive speed he had no control over, which caused him to stumble, trip and fall to the ground. Instead of crying, he shot up again and looked back at his mother with sheer enthusiasm.

"Did you see that?!" He shouted, "My Quirk! My Quirk!"

.

But then Izuku discovered that his Quirk didn't just enhance his speed.

.

Izuku stared at the bent wall among silence from his peers. He had just punched it in excitement over the new All Might movie, and it just… bent inwardly.

Everyone knew his Quirk made him fast and he was scrawny with no muscles to speak of; so how-?

.

"Midoriya-san, it appears that your son's Quirk doesn't just enhance his speed but also his strength. You said he didn't hurt his hand, right?"

"Yes."

"That means his Quirk augments his body's speed, strength and sturdiness. But for a short amount of time, and it's always fueled by a burst of emotions."

.

Midoriya Izuku, age: 6, Quirk: Emotional Rush.

.

Izuku liked to analyze Quirks and his own was no exception. So far, he figured out that his Quirk increased his speed and strength, made him practically invincible while it was active, and it activated whenever he felt a particularly strong burst of emotions.

He felt quite strongly, which meant he unintentionally activated his Quirk a lot.

And that was how he figured out the drawback to his Quirk.

.

Inko sighed fondly as she saw her son curled up on the floor, staring blankly at the wall.

"Izukkun, it's time for lunch."

Izuku made a sound at the back of his throat and rolled to his room.

Inko sighed again and pulled her son using her Quirk, lamenting how her son's Quirk left him drained after it activated.

.

No one knew just how many functions of his body his Quirk enhanced aside from him. No one knew how wide the range of emotions that fueled his Quirk was, better than him.

And that was why, when the slime villain rushed at him from the sewers, when the terror roaring in his veins kick-started his Quirk, when he opened his mouth and screamed so loudly he probably would have seriously hurt his ears if his Quirk didn't prevent it, he wasn't surprised in the least.

.

He was saved from the villain, and was left shaking in his shoes due to the aftereffects of his Quirk.

And then he saw All Might in the flesh.

The sheer, transcendent excitement of meeting his idol woke his Quirk again, causing it to metaphorically grab him from rock bottom to launch him into the freaking sun.

(He was, once more, reminded of why it was a Very Bad Idea to activate his Quirk multiple times in succession as he lied on the ground, empty, with All Might hovering over him worriedly.)

.

One of the greatest challenges Izuku faced was gaining a measure of control over his Quirk so that he won't launch into a Rushed state (as he called it) every time he got overly excited and/or nervous. Which was basically 90% of the time.

As he stared at the U.A building on the day of the entrance exam, he was completely and intimately reminded of why it was such a challenge; he could barely take a step or, heck, breathe without his Quirk being on the verge of activating.

And that was a Very, Very Bad Idea.

He needed to save his energy for the practical exam and there was no way he was taking the written exam while simultaneously gathering every scrap of energy he could muster post-Rush.

.

At least, Izuku thought, staring at the city construct and listening to Present Mic, the amount of emotions he kept at bay so far was bound to last him a decent amount of time-

"START!"

"WHOO!" Izuku shot like a bullet towards the city, leaving a small crater, a trail of dust and silent, gaping fellow examinees behind him.

"That's the spirit!" Present Mic shouted, "What are the rest of you waiting for?"

.

One of the most embarrassing things about his Quirk was that it also fueled his ramblings.

"Ohmygod," He stared back at where the zero points robot stood awkwardly in place as its leg were bent where he kicked them, "We almost died aretheyforreal-?!" He continued on in hysterics. His fellow examinee whom he just saved, the nice girl with gravity manipulation Quirk, patted him on the back in an attempt to calm him down.

Izuku halted just as abruptly as he shot off at the start of the exam and toppled to the floor. The girl freaked out, "Hey, are you all right?! Are you hurt?"

"Nghhh." Izuku ignored her and curled up, god, he just wanted to sleep.

.

It was highly embarrassing, "I'm so sorry for ignoring you back then!" Izuku rambled, "It's just, my Quirk leaves me tootiredandIkindofuseditmorethanusual-"

"It's okay!" Uraraka Ochako smiled at him.

"If you're all done." A man in a sleeping bag rolled into view.

Izuku stared in awe at him, was this man their homeroom teacher? Would he teach Izuku the arts of lethargic rolling in a sleeping bag? Izuku needed that particular skill in his life like nobody's business.

.

A Quirk apprehension test?

Izuku fidgeted nervously; oh god, a test on the first day? Well, that was U.A for you. Izuku was enough of a nervous wreck to activate his Quirk on command- actually, he was barely holding his Quirk back, if he relented even for one second it would totally-

"The student who ranks last in terms of points will be expelled."

Izuku's Quirk high-fived him in the face with a fist.

.

"Why does your hero costume have a skirt instead of pants, Deku-kun?"  

How could Izuku tell Uraraka that it was to make sure that no matter how tired he got, the sheer embarrassment of wearing a skirt would be enough to fuel him?

(At least she didn't ask about the tiny writing on his sleeves; there was no way he was going to explain how helpful fanfiction was in fueling his Quirk.)

.

Izuku looked at the villains in the water and gulped, "I… I can do it. I can jump there and get them."

"But they'll hurt you, Midoriya."

Izuku smiled weakly at Tsuyu, "My Quirk doesn't just enhance my speed and strength; while it's active, I'm practically invincible."  

Izuku breathed in, out, before he let his fear and anxiety consume him.

His Rushed state engulfed him and he leapt into the air.

He sucked in as much air as he could, pushed the most of his Quirk towards his throat and shrieked at the water.

If he couldn't physically attack the villains, then he'd pull a Present Mic.

.

Izuku didn't know what type of rotten luck he had to be told 'I'm going to beat you' by the strongest student in class.

It wasn't like he hadn't trained at all for the sports festival.

And so, he looked Todoroki in the eye and said, "I'm going for it with all my might, too."

.

The first event was an obstacle race. It was the exact sort of set-up that put Izuku at a disadvantage, considering his Quirk.

There were other events after, and so, he had to be sure not to overexert himself at the first event in a way that would prevent him from reaching the next event.

Izuku breathed in deeply, eyes closed and mind focused on his Quirk. His Quirk activated in bursts with very good results; the speed, strength and durability he could reach with his Quirk going 100% in one go were astounding, from an objective standpoint. But it exhausted him, and doing multiple bursts in succession was digging himself a deeper grave.

If he could play around with the effects of his Quirk and their extent, then he could go from doing it at full throttle for a short amount of time and ending up being burned out, to doing it at half power, or lower, for a longer period of time, achieving a steadier input and slowly burning his energy so that the eventual tiredness won't be a shock to his system.

While the set-up put him at a disadvantage with what he was comfortably knowledgeable about of his Quirk, it was a good testing ground to experiment with his Quirk.

(Unfortunately, he didn't have the chance to leisurely experiment, all of it would be in the middle of an all-out challenge everyone and their mother were gunning to win.)

.

When the race started, Izuku pushed forward, his Quirk rushing through him putting him at the head of the pack. With every step he took, he reduced the influence of the Quirk on his body, leaving him in a steady run with a small stream of energy enhancing him.

One of the upsides of not having his Quirk in full effect was keeping his mind clear and stopping himself from spontaneous split-second decisions. And so, he jumped, using the shoulders of the other students with him in the lead as steps instead of just jumping clear of them all (had his Quirk been running full power).

He rushed through the first obstacle in the course and went on to face the next.

He was aiming to tell the world that he had arrived, and for that, he'd need to use not just his Quirk, but every trick at his disposal.

.

Izuku wanted nothing more than to flop to the floor and nap. Except he couldn't, not at the moment; he hadn't used his Quirk to its full extent through both the race and cavalry battle (even though he came close, during the latter).

And, more importantly, Todoroki wanted to talk to him alone.

Izuku braced himself.

.

"Are you All Might's illegitimate son?"

Izuku choked, "What? Where did that come from?" Izuku was bewildered, was this about Izuku having a Quirk similar to All Might's? Sure, the most obvious physical enhancements done by Emotional Rush could be easily considered similar, but he was sure the technicalities were all different.

Then again, he never had a reason to explain his Quirk to his classmates in excruciating detail.

(And he thought it was just a one-time thing, bringing up the similarities.)

"Look, I know the effects may look the same, but I'm completely sure that All Might's Quirk is nowhere near the same as mine." Izuku flailed his arms around, "There is no way that All Might is related to me like that. I already have a father. Sure, he's rarely around and the last time I saw him was years ago and-"

"Midoriya."

Izuku snapped his mouth shut.

"If All Might is not related to you like that, then how is he connected to you? Everyone saw you two talk more than once outside of class."

Izuku sweated bullets, how could he explain that the first time he met All Might, his Quirk went haywire and he ended up distracting All Might as a result which caused All Might to run out of time while Izuku was rambling to him a mile a minute?

.

Izuku inwardly cursed himself as a haze descended on his thoughts. He had one job! And he went and failed at it.

(And Ojirou had warned him about it, too.)

Now, where was he supposed to get something to hit him to get him from underneath the effects of the Quirk?

His frustration and anxiety welled up within him, rising higher and higher the closer he stepped to the outline of the ring.

His feelings reached the edge before his Quirk metaphorically threw him over it. His Rushed state coursed through his body, intense and hot and burning before it fizzled out in its usual fashion, making way for fatigue to slam into him like a speeding truck.

He reeled, falling on his back and gasping, he looked around him, noting that the only haze in his mind came from being tired instead of under the control of Shinsou's Quirk.

He breathed in deeply and refocused on his Quirk; he'd have to catch a nap later but he wasn't going to be as tired as usual, thankfully.

Pushing himself up, he rushed Shinsou.

.

Izuku prepared himself to face off against Todoroki both mentally and physically; a fight against someone of Todoroki's caliber would require him to pull all the stops. He'd need his Quirk at max.

He did not expect accidentally meeting Endeavor before the fight would push him towards a Rushed state before the match even started.

For once, the feeling pushing him into Rushed state was anger. For once, his mind was clear during it.

Izuku giggled as he stared at Endeavor with gleaming eyes, "Oho? I don't know if you need your eyes and ears checked or something, but you clearly missed the memo: this match will be between me and Todoroki Shouto, not between me and you and definitely not between All Might and you. Better to quickly get rid of your habit of seeing Todoroki-kun as an extension of you, it's pissing me off."

Izuku pivoted on a heel and continued on to the arena.

(One of the things about Rushed state was that whichever emotion triggered it could influence Izuku's attitude during its activation period.

He wondered what being angry would mean to the confrontation between him and Todoroki.)

.

The match started, and Izuku found himself facing an incoming ice glacier.

He took in a breath and screamed, the sound rattling the ice and cracking it. He took the opportunity to bulldoze his way though; the ice, already unstable and shaking, broke down under Izuku's frontal assault, completely incapable of grasping onto him.

Using his superior speed, he cleared the ice and reached Todoroki in mere seconds, and lashed out with his leg towards Todoroki's left side.

If Izuku was going at 100%, then by god he was going to make Todoroki do the same.

.

The match was brutal.

Izuku did not relent and never left Todoroki a chance to breathe, consistently aiming for his left side in a bid to pull his flames out.

But at the same time, he made sure to pull his strikes enough not to seriously hurt him.

Izuku did not allow himself to strike the strongest he could manage without seriously harming Todoroki until Todoroki used his full Quirk.

And when that finally happened, when Izuku had screamed and struck hard enough to drag Todoroki's flames out into the open, Izuku allowed himself to kick Todoroki out of bounds before his Rushed state fizzled out and he toppled to the floor, completely exhausted and almost blacking out.

"Winner, Midoriya!"

.

Izuku dragged himself to the arena to face off against Iida.

He was still exhausted, he had been running on fumes since some point halfway through his fight against Todoroki; there was no way he could put on half a decent challenge against Iida and they both knew it.

It was no wonder Iida won the match.

.

Izuku knew himself well enough to tell anyone how strongly and quickly he feels. His Quirk just enabled it and helped him with it at the same time; he never had the chance to bottle emotions for a long period of time before he hit his threshold and his Quirk made itself known.

(Cathartic screaming into the void was one of his many past-times in his Rushed state.)

And so, when he heard about Iida's brother being attacked, Izuku was the last person surprised about how he tackled Iida into the ground, wrapped himself around him and refused to get up or let go until his Quirk's effects faded.

He was emotionally rambling as well; there were many a tearful 'mama will make everything better my child', 'hush my child, let mama take care of you', 'do you want blankets? Hot chocolate? Mama will bring you everything', 'my son my son I care about you very much, mama cares about you very much' and 'I need to fucking punch a wall or something'.

("Wait, is he calling himself 'mama'?!"

"He's declaring himself Iida's mama?"

"HE JUST SWORE. OH MY GOD, MIDORIYA JUST SAID –")

Thankfully, he was too tired to stay wrapped around Iida for longer than a few minutes, causing him to let go, dropping into sleep and setting Iida free.

.

"Hero name, huh?"

Izuku stared blankly at his hands, wondering what hero name he could pick that would pass Midnight's scrutiny.

Pick Feels, a small voice inside of him whispered, giggling, and Izuku ruthlessly squashed it.  

Izuku pondered for the entirety of the class period, and when it was his turn to show his pick of a hero name, he shyly walked up to the front of the classroom and showed his name.

"Swift Burst, huh."

Izuku nodded.

.

Izuku stared at the decrepit building, hesitating before entering. Was this the right address? He couldn't believe that the pro hero who trained All Might lived here.

Oh well, he had to go and check at least.

As he opened the door he was greeted by the sight of a small, old man slumped over in a puddle of red.

Emotional Rush slammed into him, sending him shooting through the air to land next to the man (he dearly hoped he wasn't dead).

He was about to roll him over and see the extent of the injury when the old man snapped his head up and declared, "I'm alive!"

Izuku leaped back in surprise, slamming into the wall behind him and sliding down it to the ground while staring in shock that was quickly fading to give way to tiredness as he slipped from his Rushed state.

Oh, great. What a nice start he was at.

.

Izuku stared at Gran Torino, then back at the taiyaki; what did he just say about distribution?

He'd always had his Quirk distributed equally in all of his body and it was only in the last year that he learned how to slightly skew the balance toward one part to strengthen it, which was how he rendered his unholy screech into an effective weapon.

He'd though about lowering the energy input to lower the chance of crashing after each Rushed state.

But what if he consciously pushed all of his Quirk's energy towards one aspect or one part of his boy?

That would require thorough testing.

.

Izuku stared at the wall of the hospital room he, Iida and Todoroki were in before he sighed and turned to the other two.

Their faces were marked by fatigue, Izuku winced, "I'm really sorry. I had no idea my Quirk could affect others."

Todoroki looked at him, baffled, "That was your Quirk?!"

Izuku nodded.

"Midoriya," Iida started, "You never told us what your Quirk was other from it being a body enhancement Quirk."

"Well." Izuku chewed his lower lip, "It is, technically. But it's also more complicated than that? It's called Emotional Rush. At first, I thought it was a speed enhancement Quirk, but then-"

.

End.

Emotional Rush is basically a collection of various feels in Quirk form.

This fic was pretty much an exploration fic, as it's my first BNHA fic that is not a crossover and covers events depicted in canon (unlike Flame Hero which is set pre-canon).

[andavs]

Another from this long list of prompts, completely unprompted.

Number Ten: “If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!!”

Stiles needed to take a good long look at his life, he decided as he dug the emergency plastic seat covers out of the trunk of the Camaro.

Reason number one: he and all of his friends kept emergency plastic seat covers in their trunks so in the event of a big bad monster exploding all over them, they wouldn’t have to explain massive blood stains to the guy at the auto detailing shop.

Again.

They only made that mistake once, and Lydia spent the night in jail three counties over.

Stiles shook out the plastic with a spiteful flourish at the universe, and laid it out over the leather passenger seat, while Derek did the same for the driver’s before sliding in.

Stiles hesitated, bracing himself.

Reason number two: Stiles was far too young to always be this sore.

He groaned as he lowered himself into the car and the plastic crinkled underneath him. His knee was messed up, he knew that much without professional opinion, but he was going to hold off on an official diagnosis unless it got to the point where he couldn’t walk on it. And he was pretty sure that none of the blood soaking his khakis was actually his, so compared to the last few big faceoffs, he was doing pretty well.

But it was the soreness, the constant aches when he got up in the morning—his shoulder actually ached with the weather. His grandfather had that problem, and even his dad didn’t have as many back problems.

Stiles was twenty-eight and there were days when a bad enough thunderstorm rolled through, and all he could do was lie on the couch and pop Tylenol like candy.

At this rate he’d be using a cane at thirty.

He yawned as Derek put the car in gear and drove towards home, letting himself drift off.

Reason number three: he was always, always exhausted.

As far as he coworkers knew, the only exercise Stiles ever got was pickup games of lacrosse in the park, so when he came in with an arm in a sling, they laughed at his clumsiness. When he ended up in the hospital from another “car accident”, they laughed at his bad luck.

Classic Stilinski.

But the exhaustion, the almost daily cat naps on his desk—that was harder to explain away.

The proper response to “go to bed earlier” was definitely not, “can’t, there’s a full moon tonight.”

When Glen laughed and said, “just don’t go out with people,” he couldn’t say, “they will literally die if I’m not there with mountain ash.”

If he came in looking hungover, and that was what people assumed, he wasn’t about to correct them with the truth of getting infected by a mildly toxic spore that made everything hurt and left all of his senses fried and oversensitive.

Basically, the entire office thought he was living life like a frat bro college student and he didn’t have a decent lie to replace that perception. The only upside was that his boss found it weirdly endearing that he took naps on his desk and didn’t try to make him stop or threaten to fire him for it.

(He had a sneaking suspicion there was an Instagram full of pictures of him sleeping at work and the entire office was following it, but he hadn’t been able to find it and if there wasn’t one, he didn’t want to give them any ideas by asking.)

It was after midnight when the Camaro finally pulled into the parking lot of their building. Another long late night, another 10am desk nap in the morning.

Another Instagram post.

They trudged/limped up the stairs to their fourth floor apartment in silence (reason number three-point-five: the stairs), locked the door behind them, and quietly started to strip off their filthy, stained clothes. Stiles gathered them up while Derek put away their wallets and keys, and headed into the kitchen. He pulled the trash out from under the sink, and as if Derek read his mind, he called,

“Throw them out, I’m not even trying.”

There was no saving them.

Reason number four: their astronomical clothing budget.

The sheer amount of clothing they’d thrown out in just the last year alone was astounding. Stiles had just stopped getting attached to anything he owned, because even if he tried to plan it out, kept spare clothes in his trunk, there was always some stupid emergency popping up when he was wearing his favorite shirt. When the Creature from the Black Lagoon was dragging Scott back into its lair, there was no time for a wardrobe change.

Derek had it easy. He’d always opted for grabbing a five pack of generic henleys, he didn’t like logos or jokes on his shirts.

Stiles, on the other hand, had gone through eight Batman shirts in three years.

He stripped off his pants and tossed them in too.

The shower turned on, and Stiles realized he’d missed his chance to go first.

Motherfucker.

“Hey! If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god, you’re on the couch for a month!” Stiles called, knowing Derek could hear him over the running water, and Derek yelled back,

“Just shower with me!”

Stiles stared out the kitchen window for a second, debating.

Reason number five: their shower.

Derek owned their building so at least they didn’t have to explain the constant clogs to a landlord, but god, their poor shower. There was no telling what kind of bits and pieces went down that drain, probably straight up body parts, and the drain certainly made its displeasure known. They were single-handedly paying for their plumber’s daughter’s private school education with his near monthly visits. If they didn’t call, he called to check up on them.

Whatever, they were due for a declogging anyway.

He tossed his underwear in the trash for good measure, and padded down the hall to the bathroom, trying not to touch anything on the way.

They showered in silence, washing away grime and…fluids and shampooing each other’s hair, trying to avoid shallow cuts with the soap and failing, trading spaces under the steady stream of water until it started getting cold.

It was their drain’s personal form of revenge, since Derek had recently updated the water heater for the entire building and no other tenants had reported this issue. Because of course their drain was some level of sentient.

Of course.

They dressed quietly, Derek wrapped up Stiles’ knee and got some ice, and they finally settled in bed. For all the crap their lives threw at them, for all the total and complete bullshit they’d gone through in the last ten years, this—climbing into bed with Derek and feeling his warm arms around him—this made it worth it.

Stiles adjusted the bag of ice on his knee and stretched it out carefully, groaning at the pull in his muscles. That was definitely going to bruise, and it would be impressive.

“Need a drain?” Derek murmured, already half asleep, but holding up his hand, ready to help.

Stiles shook his head and snuggled back into his pillows. “Save that for tomorrow when the pain really kicks in.”

Derek put his arm down, patting around the bed until he found Stiles’ hand to hold loosely. They were both too tired and sore to do anything more than thread their fingers together and lay there.

Reason number six: Stiles would really like to be able to do more than lie on each other in a sore and exhausted silence. The nights they had energy to do more than fall asleep mid-lazy kiss were depressingly few and far between.

What he wouldn’t give for a regular and frequent sex life that didn’t involve maneuvering around a busted knee again.

Derek tapped his thumb against Stiles’. “Rethinking your life again?”

Stiles nodded against his shoulder.

“What’s the verdict this time?”

Stiles wiggled in a little closer and sighed, closing his eyes. “We’re doing just fine.”

[baileysouth]

PITCH WARS 2017 #PimpMyBio

WELCOME, FRIENDS.

First, I’ve gotta say: all the other mentee hopefuls are slaying their bios with ACTUAL WEBSITES and gifs galore. I am not so skilled in the ways of being Boss as Fuck, so I welcome one and all to my humble Tumblr Dot Com space on the Internet.

My nom de plume is Bailey South, but a quick search will return woefully little on my exploits and infamy. Thus, the evil plan succeeds. You see, I’ve spent the last ten years writing all kinds of sordid fan fiction under another name.

The kind of fanfic that received thousands of reviews and endless amounts of lovingly rendered fan art. People tattooed my words on their bodies. That is nuts. All over two college dudes doing drugs and really wanting to suck each others Ds.

Sure, there was a fair amount of crippling depression and chaotic memetic desire thrown in, but I had no idea, when I was writing it, what sort of beast it would become. In order to gain some distance, I developed a shiny new name and brushed off the dusty outlines and painstaking map-making I made way back in 2005. There was magic! And a boarding school! It was basically Harry Potter! I tried for years to get things rolling with the manuscript, but I lost focus, then I lost interest.

Fast forward to 2014. I have an idea one night, hating the mundanity of my existence and loathing the sight of the restaurant I force myself into day in and day out, smiling at strangers and putting on the Grand Show of hospitality. I’m angry and educated and tired, so tired, of doing nothing. I open a Word document and words begin pouring out. Those words eventually became my Pitch Wars 2017 submission: MINNOWS, speculative contemporary YA that is furious and philosophical and probably going to end up buried on my hard drive never seeing the light of day because agents hate post-apocalyptic YA right now. But I did it. I wrote it.

I remember being in fourth grade and reading Bruce Coville’s Into the Land of Unicorns. I was all batshit about it and made a teeny-tiny pocket-sized book about unicorns, crayon-scrawled hard cardboard cover and all. In essence, I wrote fanfic. I wanted to create more, wanted to know more about these different worlds and characters. Even now, when I really love something and it ends, I just want more. Writing MINNOWS, for me, was about learning to love what I create, about wanting more of the worlds and characters I’ve created. 

And now, AN ABBREVIATED LIST OF THINGS I LOVE:

books

Shades of Magic series by V.E. Schwab because holy world creating and Kell and the Londons and Rhy and it’s the first series since Harry Potter that had me THERE. You know where I mean. RIGHT THERE.

The Mortal Instruments and The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare because H/D fanfic writer turned YA fantasy dominator who the haters are gunna hate, but I love wholly anyway. Because HERONDALES and angels and demons and the entire chronology of Jem and Will as parabatai. I think about Will Herondale even now, years later, and hurt.

The Magicians trilogy by Lev Grossman because gritty magical boarding school? Fuck yes.

Harry Potter series by…. you know who it’s by. Because I don’t care how problematic it’s supposed to be or why XYZ is wrong because of varyingly valid reasons. I love it because it changed my life as a junior in high school when I felt like the whole world was against me. Harry’s entire life, from his childhood to his destiny, was and is the most moving, soul-encompassing experience of my life thus far. I’m a Hogwarts Ravenclaw and Ilvermorny Thunderbird. My wand is 10 ¾" elm wood with a unicorn hair core. My patronus is a wild boar. (Which is HILARIOUS). I went to the California Wizarding World of Harry Potter last October and did magic in the streets of Hogsmeade with a bunch of ten-year-olds and LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT.

Fight Club and Survivor and Choke by Chuck Palahniuk. Instrumental in crafting my idea of what it means to write.

films

The Social Network by David Fincher. I tend to like directors’ entire filmography and this is definitely true for Fincher. Se7en, anyone? But TSN is spectacularly cast, searingly written by Sorkin, and just fantastic filmmaking. It’s smart and devastating. It’s compellingly told and so realistically depicted. And it’s a film about Facebook of all things. I was in Speech 101 in college and for our final we had to give a persuasive speech on any topic. The professor joked that it could be about saving the whales, politics, or even simply being a good person. The last bit got a huge laugh out of the class, like it’s somehow a joke to be a good person. Wrong. I picked compassion as my topic and received a standing ovation. Making something Big out of something not so big, making it into an amazing piece of art, that’s why I love The Social Network.

The Fountain by Darren Aronofsky. Another amazing filmmaker with an impressive oeuvre (Requiem for a Dream, Black Swan, etc). It’s a love story at heart, but woven so intricately and directed so hauntingly. A true cinematic work of art.

Sunshine by Danny Boyle. Great ensemble cast and a powerful message about awe. Boyle is another director with all sorts of staggering achievements under his belt (Slumdog Millionaire, 28 Days Later, Trainspotting).

Dead Poets Society. Because gather ye rosebuds while ye may, carpe diem, O’ captain my captain, etc.

music

Brand New. Literally my favorite band of all time. Jesse Lacey, you are beyond words.

The Receiving End of Sirens. Sheer beauty.

Gatsby’s American Dream. Thematically astounding with lyrical elements embedded both in my soul and in my manuscript! A band that writes practically a whole record on Ursula Le Guin’s The Wizard of Earthsea can do no wrong. 

and a whole slew of 2000s emo/punk/pop-punk/post-punk/melodic hardcore/pop-core like New Found Glory, Say Anything,The Starting Line, All Time Low, Fall Out Boy, Set Your Goals, Four Year Strong, Forgive Durden, This Providence, The Juliana Theory, Taking Back Sunday, Dashboard Confessional, Allister, Further Seems Forever, Blink 182, Green Day. I lived in Los Angeles for the first twenty-six years of my life; I cut my teeth on Hollywood club shows.

SOME TRU FUN FAX ABT ME:

I can’t whistle. So whenever Sabriel whistled instead of using her dope ass bells in the Garth Nix books, I was sad.

I wanted to be an English professor. I graduated summa cum laude from the University of California Santa Barbara (right on the beach, which was the setting of my aforementioned massive 133k fanfic). Then I went to a graduate school I hated because they offered me a scholarship, and I promptly dropped out after a semester.

I moved away from the endless independent contracting offered to me in Los Angeles and moved to Greenville, South Carolina for absolutely no reason at all other than I thought the Dawson’s Creek scenes shot in North Carolina looked pretty. Really.

And that’s it. The gif threshold has been reached. Check out the other hopefuls on the Blog Hop HERE. Best of luck to all other Pitch Wars participants–we really are all winners. I mean, come on, WE WROTE BOOKS! WHOLE ACTUAL BOOKS!