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moonctzeny · 4 years ago

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Softer than velvet

pairing: magazine co-editor! mark lee x fem!y/n

genre: smut

warnings: office sex

word count: 2,926

summary: “Mark is a co-editor in the fashion magazine you work for, monopolizing everyones attention with his looks, including yours. Prompted by his vast knowledge about lingerie and his tendency to want to rip them apart, you invite him in your office, and you definitely put him to work”

a/n: inspired by the legendary scene from ‘Community’ and a discussion I had with my bf and best friend about lingerie.

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He looked dashing again, as always.

While Monday morning finds most employees in their tousled bed hair, dark eye circles and crooked buttons from hasting to be on time, Mark Lee looks like he jumped out of the fashion magazine you worked for. He was an editor, like yourself, yet the way he confidently strolled through the hallways, capturing everyone’s attention, had executives and employees alike toying with the idea of having him in their bed.

Mark’s shoulders looked even broader in the white shirt he had chosen for the day, neatly ironed and held together with a bright coral tie. A suede brown vest, that would look plain weird on anyone else that would dare pull it off, showed off his tiny waist perfectly, short enough for the workers on the welcome desk to whisper in admiration about his ‘cute perky butt’.

As one of Mark’s many secret fans, you wanted to join in on their giggling, but as his coworker you had to keep yourself from indulging in those dirty thoughts that kept creeping in your head. It was hard to deny this sweet distraction, that perks you up in excitement and turns up the heat of your body. Like now, that he makes his way towards you in the main lobby, and you wonder how nice his pink locks would look between your thighs.

“Good morning, y/n”, he says when he’s finally standing in front of you, and you almost spill your mug filled with instant coffee in the sound of his raspy morning voice.

“Lee”, you address him almost coldy, but your smirk as you take a sip of the hot liquid gives you away. You can’t stop yourself from checking him out, his new high-end belt begging to be tugged on and used in other ways that it was originally made for. He bites his cheek when he notices your eyes laying on his crotch a second too long but he decides not to mention it.

“Are you going on a cigarette break soon?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes before making sure to lower your voice. “Didn’t you hear yesterday’s briefing? New boss is trying to cut them and apparently so must we. No smoking allowed here anymore.”

“Then you chose the wrong outfit”

He seems satisfied with the little yelp you let out, internally scolding yourself for getting so worked up over his compliment but hell, there’s nothing more you want than to fuck that smile off his face. If that’s what he wanted that’s what he’d get, but you refuse to look all fucked out here in the open just from the mere words of Mark Lee. Not when so many of your assistants were watching.

“We got assigned the lingerie issue together”, you change the subject and start walking towards your offices at the end of the floor. “ I need you to show me your picks later”

“It was hard finding anything worth including, except for Savage X Fenty nothing new is in the game. The La Perla designs are so outdated, and don’t get me started on Fleur du Mal.”

“Wow, you seem to know a lot about lingerie, huh?”, you exclaim, genuinely impressed, and you let him bask in his pride for a little. He runs his fingers through his hair and you catch a whiff of his shampoo, its scent coupled with his cologne highly addictive.

“I love fashion, and it’s kind of my job so I have to keep up. I’m not really a big fan of them, though.”

You raise an eyebrow at his confession, and halt as you arrive outside his office that is a little nearer than yours. Your body is leaning up against the wall, in a way that accentuates the curves of your body and Mark doesn’t try to be discreet in his staring. He might as well raise his hands, go through the layers and layers of palpable sexual tension between you and run them all over your body like you so desperately want.

“Don’t get me wrong, they’re pretty”, he starts, and you’re not sure if he’s addressing you, your lips or your decolletage.”But if we were getting down to business and I saw you in lingerie, all I’d think about is how to rip it off of you”

It takes every ounce of self control in your body and the thought of how much you need your salary not to pounce at him, and start removing his clothes right then and there. The masks of professionalism have vanished and so has your patience with him, so you fix his tie, tying it up a little tighter than it needs to be and you love the gasp that leaves his chapped lips.

“Since you are so knowledgeable Mark, I’m not sure if the lingerie I’m wearing is off-season. How about you come to my office later to hand me your picks and give me your honest opinion?”

He chokes on thin air, the angry veins on his neck twitching from the lack of circulation to his head as he huffs out a chuckle.

“I’ll be there before the meeting starts”, he promises before slipping inside his office, his hands brushing yours as he slides past you. You bet he thinks he’s smooth, but his reflection on the glass door of his neighboring office betrays him, catching him in the act of staring at your ass as you walk away. You wink at his reflection and he winces when he realizes, but you’ll forgive him. This sweet distraction in the name of Mark Lee was all you needed this boring Monday morning, and you can’t wait to see if your coworker is as skillful as he talks himself up to be.

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The wait wasn’t long, but it sure was painful, your mind wandering at the conversation you had with Mark this morning and eyes checking the time every five minutes. You’d almost miss his figure in your absentmindedness, standing outside your office, nervously shifting his body weight from one leg to the other.

The glass separating your office with the main hall was tinted, with a few stripes of clear glass on the very top, giving you a limited view of the people hurrying past. Through those lines you also saw Mark, hesitating to knock and giving himself what looks like a pep talk. You think it’s adorable and decide to take him out of his misery, getting up yourself to open the door.

His mouth drops open when you do, looking like a deer in the headlights with his big doe eyes and binder that is placed -strategically- over his crotch. You smile politely and motion him to come in, your meetup not seeming strange to any passerby, as you have worked together many times in the past. The moment he turns the knob behind him to close the door, Mark drops the designs from his hands, pictures of lingerie flying in the air and landing across the carpeted floor. You barely manage to turn the lock before he pushes you backwards with a hand on your jaw, until you feel the wood of your desk digging against your ass.

You close your eyes and immediately are braced with the feeling of his tongue entering your mouth, the strong aftertaste of cinnamon candy tingling your tastebuds. Bringing him closer by his tie, you let him lift you up the table, legs wrapping around his waist and you verify that he was, indeed, already hard behind that binder.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that”, he murmurs in the kiss and tugs on the roots of your hair suddenly, forcing your head to tilt back and thus expose your neck.

His breath is hot over your collarbones and the feeling of his hardness is driving you insane, so you let your blazer fall from your shoulders before taking off his vest. Mark helps you out by loosening his tie and starts to unbutton his shirt, but you stop him when his chest is almost half-exposed.

“Don’t take it off, you look sexy like that”

He blushes from your compliment, momentarily letting go of his surprisingly dom persona.

“I thought I was supposed to examine your outfit though?”, he asks cheekily and you remove your blouse, revealing the teddy that’s been hugging your body.

It’s black, with a mesh body and velvet lining over the cups and crotch area. The adjustable straps help your boobs look full and round, the velvet strips that are going down, parallel to your body lines, make you look as curvy as ever.

Mark looks a little lost, like a kid in a candy store and he clears his throat before speaking up again.

“I need to feel the fabric”, he states, almost too seriously for the situation you were both in currently and he runs his fingers from your belly button upwards to your abs. His fingers toy with the lace adorning the cups and he finally squeezes your boobs. He chuckles at the naughtiness of what you’re doing right now, breaking character, and you’re reminded of how young Mark really is. You free your right boob from its constraint and the sight of your nipple, hard and erect for him, immediately sobers him up.

His mouth has stayed open in his trance, and you take advantage of it by placing your fingers over his lips, then slowly pushing them in. With his tongue wetting your fingertips, and his big eyes glued on you, waiting for your next move, he really resembles a puppy, and you gloat in the sudden gain of control over him.

When you feel that he’s had enough, or rather, that you’ve had enough, you push your digits out of the comfortable rim of his mouth, coating your nipple with a light layer of his spit.

“So?”, you mewl seductively, “what do you think?”

“It needs to be softer, I think”

You stop massaging yourself, tilting your head in confusion by his critique.

“Softer? What is softer than velvet?”

Mark smirks back at you, hand leaving your breast and travelling south.

“I can think of something”

He finds the buttons over the crotch of the teddy, the pieces of fabric they’re holding together damp with your arousal. You shiver when you feel his fingers easily gliding through your folds, teasing your entrance and pinching your clit.

A whine leaves your lips as he removes his fingers momentarily, falling on his knees in front of you. Suddenly remembering where you are, you stretch your body a little in your paranoia, checking if anyone is standing outside your office, witnessing your dirty meetup. But Mark is quick to bring you back up to heaven, with a flick of his tongue over your clit.

“Mmmm, so soft”

He looks so fucking delicious looking up at you, tie discarded on the floor now and lips coated with your wetness and his spit. You can feel the scruffiness of his 5 o’clock shadow slightly scratching the inside of your thighs that are so sensitive and shake in pleasure. Reaching your hands back for any form of stability you knock down some of the stationery, but how can you care when Mark draws circles with his fingers on your entrance?

He pushes in his index, then his middle finger as well, setting a pace that is as slow as it is sinfully pleasurable. Your small office is filled with the sounds of his kissing and slurping, but you can’t ask him to be quiet when you struggle to lower your moans as well. The feeling of the soft pads of his fingers massaging your walls and his tongue sucking on your pussy makes you light-headed, your nails digging in the wooden surface and desperately chasing your high. Your orgasm hits you like a wave, and you bite your fist so as not to make a sound, but Mark’s not done yet.

He places one hand sturdily on your hips, the other cupping your left boob, successfully helping you keep your balance. He keeps lapping up your arousal, sucking on the swollen bud and you swear you see stars. You’re thrashing around in your overstimulation, too close to screaming from pleasure and you grab Mark’s hair to push him away.

His eyes are blown out from arousal, mouth gasping for air and chin wet with your juices. The desire to have him is animalistic, and you force him up by his collar, replacing his place on the floor.

“My turn”

Unbuckling his belt in swift moves, you manage to free his member from his boxers, bright red and leaking for you. Placing his tip on your tongue, you can taste the saltiness of his precum, and Mark sighs at the warmth of your mouth. You rest your hands on his thighs, looking up to see his pretty face contorted in pleasure when you swirl your tongue around his length.

“Oh my god, just like that”

Determined to return the favour, you gulp around him, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You ignore the burning feeling on your knees and throat and keep him there, until tears are threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes. After bobbing your head over his cock, listening to his swears over and over again you can tell he is close, and you start jerking him, slowly picking up your pace.

He lets out a guttural groan when you start palming his tip and he slaps your hand away, taking his dick in his own grasp. “Show me something worth cumming for. I want to see your body”

You fumble with the cups of your lingerie, trying to free your boobs but it’s hard, with the straps getting in the way and the fabric being too sturdy to stretch so far. Mark gets impatient with you taking so long, so he crouches forward, bunching up the mesh in his fists and ripping it in half.

Shocked yet turned on by his action you let the garment drop from your body, leaving you in only your skirt that is bunched up over your hips. Passing the mounds on your breasts you let your hands move lower, and you start to play with your pussy for Mark to see. You’re still so sensitive from your orgasm earlier and you let him know, moaning his name as you expose yourself fully for him.

As he moves his wrist frantically over his shaft, his eyes are glued on your lower lips. They are a raging red at this point, and he’s losing his mind over the look of pure lust painted on your face. He wishes he could paint it with something else but he knows you’re in the workplace, yet nothing can keep him from entertaining the thought.

“Where do you want it?”, he huffs out just a second before he’s reaching his own high and you open your mouth, giving him a silent invitation. He moves his hips closer to you, tapping his tip over your eager tongue and he watches intently at the ropes of cum that are slowly filling up your mouth.

You raise your thumb on your lips, collecting the drops that are spilling from the corner of your mouth and you swallow before Mark can even hand you the metal bin next to your desk. He seems to be in complete ecstasy, chuckling for no reason as he puts his softening member back into his underwear and helps you back into your clothes (or whatever is left from them).

“I’m sorry for ripping your lingerie”, he mumbles finally and you want to coo at how cute he sounds, “I’ll buy you a new one, I promise”

You laugh lightly, helping him at picking up the pictures of the lingerie pieces that are scattered on your floor. “It better be one of your picks”, you tease him, waving the burgundy set you were holding and he licks his lips, picturing you in it.

“Sure. How about I give it to you over some dinner this weekend?”

His offer excites you, so you nod in agreement, and you shuffle awkwardly in the heavy atmosphere of the room. As you pick up the last picture, placing it neatly inside Mark’s binder, you feel his hand wrapping around your waist, bringing you close against him. Instinctively, you kiss him, allowing yourself to get lost in the movement of his lips, that mostly taste like you and you nibble at them lightly. Mark was in the middle of squeezing the softness of your ass, humming in appreciation, when a beep comes simultaneously from both of your phones. It’s the meeting he was talking about this morning and you groan for having to let him go.

He hands you a piece of gum when you both enter the hall and you take it, praying that no one will smell his cologne all over your skin, or notice that you’re going commando under your clothes. One of your co-workers and Mark’s buddy, that you address with a nod every time you cross paths in the office kitchen catches up to you, and throws an arm over his shoulders.

“Mark, my man, you’re glowing today! Wanna grab a bite after the meeting?”

The boy turns his head in your direction, giving you a once over and winking your way, before answering with a smile that is so evident in his voice.

“Nah, thanks. I already ate”

#nct au #nct smut #mark lee smut #neosmutcollective #mark smut #nct 127 #nct scenario #mark x reader #nct imagines #superm smut #nct dream smut

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crimsonheart01 · 4 years ago

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Sugarplums (Oliver Wood x Female!Reader)

A/N: This is dedicated to @thegirlwhowritesfics and @juniperjane. No particular reason. None at all. It’s not like they were the ones to anonymously request this! This is just a random dedication of my love to them!

Prompt: “Are you humming the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy?” Word Count: 1.9K words Playlist: Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy - Tchaikovsky [Spotify] [YouTube] Warnings: None

“Statistically speaking, that’s impossible!” Her statement rang across several tables in the Great Hall.

She hadn’t yelled, but her voice carried. All the chatter and buzz came to an immediate halt, nothing but the sound of a bench scraping across the floor. She didn’t even bother looking up from the paper in her hand. She ducked her head down, rolling her lips together to hide the smirk growing. She chuckled to herself as she heard the collection of whispers make their way up the aisles between the tables.

He’d been arguing his point for weeks now, and while she appreciated his enthusiasm, it needed to end somewhere. Everyone knew it was impossible, himself included. Today seemed like a fine day to really rile him up. The final day of classes before Christmas hols, it was the perfect storm. It also helped that he was halfway there on his own anyway. His voice had been climbing up over the chatter from the Gryffindor table. She knew they were on his side. True to their namesake, the pride of lions always stuck together.

Regardless, she thoroughly enjoyed a good debate, especially with one such Gryffindor. Logic superseded a lot of their banter, but on this particular topic, he was a dog with a bone. Refusing to let go or give up. The sounds of his footfalls drifted up into the swirl of his robes while he walked. She knew he had a flair for the dramatic when he was on a tangent, and he was in peak form this morning.

Two of her classmates skirted in opposite directions on the bench across from her. Keen to avoid his approach. No one had ever challenged him in general. Not Oliver Wood, the headstrong Gryffindor. Not Oliver Wood, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Not when it came to the one game he was being scouted for. The one game where his talent exceeded everyone’s expectations. Smarts aside, quidditch was his and most definitely, not hers.

“Strong words coming from someone who doesn’t even follow quidditch.” He accused, his voice low and on the verge of shaking.

She lifted her eyes to regard him, her face a mask of indifference, “You think that just because I don’t obsess over it, it means I don’t keep track of the most popular wizarding sport?”

He scoffed at her, reaching down and pressing his palm flat over the paper she held. Their eyes connected as he hovered over the Ravenclaw table, pushing the paper down so that she would give him his undivided attention. She made a show of blinking innocently up at him. He narrowed his eyes briefly, starting to understand the game she was initiating.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” He determined, licking his bottom lip in irritation.

A collective gasp could be heard amongst the other students, even a few smug sniffs from the Gryffindor table. Head Girl and the Captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team in a tiff. In front of all to see. Every eye in the castle trained on the two of them. Even the teachers were straining to listen in. She chuckled to herself. She wondered how many of them were hedging their bets. It was common knowledge to the older students that the professors got a good laugh out of the typical house rivalries. They joined in on their own terms, always in good fun—a way to keep up morale and to encourage healthy competition.

She tugged her hand out from under his grip and finally lifted her head to acknowledge him fully. The torch he held for Portree was misguided in his patriotism, believing beyond any doubt that they were taking the world cup this year. It was the only time he became irrational about how the game really worked. She enjoyed his dedication to his country’s national team and his childhood favourite team, but again, this argument was weeks old now, and they weren’t advancing anywhere near the top of the league. Not this year.

“Puddlemere has a higher scoring average. Their Chasers score an average of 215 each game, without calculating in the caught snitch points. Even if Portree won their next game by 150 points, they’re still fourth in the league overall.” She dismissively explained, “You saying that they’re on track to come first is like saying the Canons will win their next game. It’s statistically impossible.”

Everyone knew the Canons were just a filler team. They hadn’t won a game in the last century and weren’t likely to win one in the next. She gave him a smug grin as she laid it all out for him. He narrowed his eyes at her, curling his hand into a fist, his knuckles turning white. He knew she was right but didn’t want to admit defeat. Oh no, not him. Not the quidditch all-knowing, Oliver Wood. He could never.

“Scoring average aside,” He countered, “Their newest recruits for the season have played well beyond any expectations, and they still have chance on their side. If Puddlemere loses the next two games, regardless of points, they drop out of the winning and it makes room for the other teams to move up.”

He stood up, straightening his back and crossed his arms over his chest. Proud of his statement, of his deductions. She let out a condescending laugh at his stance, looking back down at her empty plate for a second. When she glanced back up, she could see his resolve starting to crumble. He was doing the math in his head. He’d figured out that he was off base. That even though he had faith, the numbers weren’t on his side.

“You want to place your faith on the best team in the British league losing their next two games? Even after they’ve won every single one up until this point. You want to ride on the fact that they might choke? A maybe?” She cocked her head to the side, knowing that she had him right where she wanted him, “Care to place a wager on that?”

Her eyebrows lifted into her hairline as she stared at him, strongarming him to make the losing bet or admit defeat. The hall fell into a tense silence, waiting for the outcome. She was sure others had caught up with the data, the proof that Pride of Portree wasn’t winning any cups this year.

He faltered, and everyone saw it. Everyone saw the fall in his confidence. The whispers grew again, as those who knew about quidditch were informing those who weren’t avid fans. Oliver took a deep breath in and stared over at her, shocked that he’d been beaten at the game. Mostly because he’d been beaten by the least likely person he expected it from.

In hindsight, he should’ve known she’d be the only one to best him. She always did. She was the only person who could. It was why he loved her. She could go up against the best in any debate and come out victorious. Without a chance to rectify his downfall, the bells rang, signalling breakfast over and time to get on to their classes.

Excitement rose into the air as benches scratched along the stone floors and books were scraped up off the tables. She grinned up at Oliver, and he shook his head, a small smile creeping in. He turned around and headed back to his table to gather his effects before exiting the hall. He could feel the stares of the younger students were giving him. All the while, they were murmuring behind their hands to one another. The “it” couple of the year had a public row. Little did they all know, it was a ploy. One that she put into place to get him to see reality. There was never a hint of animosity between them, and even if there had been, it dissipated when she thoroughly bested him in his top subject.

~(HP)~

Students continued to file out of the great hall, the volume of their conversations rising as they retold the events of breakfast. Several versions began circulating, all from a different house’s perspective. She enjoyed hearing the snippets as she travelled along the sides of the table. Every version with its own telling features. Quite a few long sighs from the younger kids about how romantic it all was. A few chest thumps from the older ones who defended Wood’s devotion. Almost everyone with a quiet whispered holiday wish that they would find someone to share in their passions as equally as they did with each other.

She found him standing a ways outside the opened doors and grinned over at him. In her glory, she kept up a quiet tune while she strolled in his direction. Something about the electricity in the air had her feeling light. Upon reaching him, she lifted up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Are you humming the Dance of the Sugarplum Fairy?” He asked, mystified at how her genuine good mood had him feeling uplifted even after that spectacular defeat, “It’s incredibly ominous considering our current situation.”

She laughed and shrugged her shoulders. He sighed but smiled over at her. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder while his arm slipped around her middle and clung to her. He tilted his head so that his laid on top of hers while they stood admiring the snowy grounds.

“I’m never going to live this down,” He murmured to her.

She nodded, “Oh, I know.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. If there was anyone in this castle that could school him in the sport of his passion, it was her, hands down—the only person to be able to keep up with him on statistics and gameplay. Even the most die-hard fans couldn’t retain the same amount of knowledge she did. There were times when even she gave him a run for his money. He had to give kudos to her house. She was most definitely sorted correctly. After a long moment, they both turned together and began walking down the corridor towards their next class.

“I guess I’ll have to get you a new present now,” He sighed, purposely sounding forlorn.

She furrowed her brows as she glanced up at him, “Why’s that?”

He frowned, “I can’t very well gift you with a Portree jersey that has my name emblazoned across the back when you don’t even support the team, now can I.”

She stopped abruptly and grabbed his hand, tugging him around to face her. He trained his face into a cool mask of disinterest, hoping that she could piece it together herself.

“Ollie, what are you saying?” She bit her lip, the shock of his statement settling in.

He smirked at her, and she squealed, jumping up to gather him in her arms.

“They signed you!” She whispered excitedly into his chest, “You got first draft! You’re going to be the Keeper for Portree? To think, the term is barely over, and they’ve already committed!”

He laughed along with her, keeping his arms tight around her back. He held her close to him, enjoying how thrilled she was for his news. It was an anxiety he’d had since the end of last year, but thankfully all the extra training he put in over the summer and with the first few games of the year under his belt, the recruiters were impressed and offered him an early contract.

When she let go of him, she held his biceps tightly and grinned, “I’ll proudly wear the losing team’s jersey if it has your name on it.”

His mouth dropped open in disbelief, but he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.

He took her hand in his, threading their fingers together and held his head high, “With me as their keeper, we won’t be the losing team anymore.”

#oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood imagines #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #12 days of ficmas 2020 #holiday prompts #yes i know the gif is of the slytherin quidditch team #don't come for me #it was the best one I could find that I liked #lmao

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fluffi · 4 years ago

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SNOW-COVERED KISS :: FELIX

pairing: felix x gn!reader

genre: 70% fluff, 30% angst, barista!felix, angst subplot

word count: 2k

author’s note: hi @constellynx! you knew already, but im your secret santa! you mightve deactivated by now (which im pissed at myself for not uploading sooner) but if you havent i hope you enjoy this! have a great new year :)

warnings: mentions of getting stood up

Maybe it was the fact that it was a Friday morning and you had no classes, or that you had walked past the cute little coffee shop on the corner of Avenue street twenty times this week, and you still hadn’t bothered to check it out. Nonetheless, you had the afternoon free today, and you were planning to spend it at Little Leaf Café.

“Welcome to Little Leaf! We hope you have a wonderful time here!” Chorused voices from employees at the café echoed as you opened the door to cold air and overlapping conversations.

It was a gorgeous café, you could tell why it was so popular. Plants of various colors were placed around the area -- hung from grids on the ceiling, on tables, growing on the sides of the walls. Not to mention the festive decorations — an assortment of green and red items meticulously placed around the café.

However, there was something...rather, someone, that was way more gorgeous than the entire café.

“Hello! How can I help you today?”

You were met with an ethereal face after lining up for what felt like ages. As soon as the last heart-struck girl left, an angel entered your line of view.

The sunny boy stood across the counter with a googly smile on his face. You noticed the way his eyes crinkled upwards, and how the apples of his cheeks turned a shade of baby pink when he saw you. He had a silver mullet that looked perfectly trimmed and maintained...you were tempted to run your hands through it. However, his contrasting baritone voice caught you off guard.

In shock and nervousness of talking to new (handsome) people, you completely messed up.

“Hi...I, um, anything? I’ll get anything?” You stuttered and internally facepalmed.

You just embarrassed yourself in front of a very cute boy, but he didn’t seem to notice. Rather, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Sure, I can give you some recommendations. Right now our xmas-special Peppermint Mocha is popular, but if I’m going to be honest, it’s not one of my favorites. I would recommend the Gingerbread Spiced Coffee, but it's your call.” He leaned over the counter and whispered, looking around to make sure his boss didn’t hear him.

As he leaned over to talk to you, you were able to see him clearer. He had glowing skin and his eyes sparkled in excitement, but it made you feel calm. You felt serene and happy looking into his dazzling brown orbs.

Just then, said eyes blinked and squinted at you. That brought you down to Earth.

“Right, right! I’ll get whatever you said! The Singerbread Giced Coffee?” You nodded your head in panic before you realized what you just said.

“Uh, it's called the Gingerbread Spiced Coffee, but sure. Anything else?” He looked back at you after inputting your order with a teasing gleam in his eye.

“Nothing else. I’m sorry, I’m such a mess today!” You bowed in embarrassment and looked at your fidgeting fingers.

He chuckled. “Nothing to worry about. What’s your name?”

“Y/N. What’s yours?” You answered, before realizing that he only needed it to write your name on the plastic cup.

“Oh! I’ve never had anyone ask me my name before. It’s Felix.” He flashed another dazzling smile at you before handing you a table number.

Felix put your order on the pick up table and left to man the counter. Through your peripheral vision, however, you could catch him nervously glancing at you. Ignoring the rising butterflies in your stomach, you walked over to your reserved seat and placed your tray down.

However, as you were about to take a sip of your specially recommended drink, you glanced down and saw your receipt, with a specially written note on it.

Hi, Y/N. If you see this. Read my continued message on the serviette under your drink ;)

-felix

Your heart shuddered as you began to overthink pretty much every possibility that could happen between you and Felix. Maybe he wrote you a note to tell you that you were annoying? Maybe kind of weird? A little cuckoo? A bunch of mind-boggling thoughts started circulating your brain as you slowly flipped your serviette over.

Hi Y/N.

I know this seems like a really unconventional method, but I honestly don’t have the courage to ask someone out on a date in person hehe. Oops! I just said it...uh, would you want to go out with me on a date? I think you’re really cute and I love your personality! Also, um, you’re really pretty.

I was thinking that we can maybe meet at the 31st Bus Stop at 4pm? I have a shift till 3.30 so I could go there and meet you. We can plan everything else out later :3

If you’re already taken, that's alright! You can ignore this message. But do what you will with the information I gave you.

-felix the little leaf barista dude

Your face was in a dark shade of beet red as you looked up timidly and immediately locked eyes with Felix. You tried not to smile as you looked away and giggled shyly.

On Felix’s side, he had been staring at you ever since you took your order. When the two of you met eyes, his entire body froze, and he stopped what he was doing, dropping his half-washed cup into the sink.

“Dude, what are you doing, I- “ Bang Chan, his senior colleague and friend, followed Felix’s line of sight to you and chuckled slyly.

“In my opinion, the color of their face probably means that they’ll go out with you. Get back to work Lix, or you might not be able to see her later.” He nudged Felix’s side, prompting him to continue working. Felix looked up at Bang Chan in confusion and continued his work, still glancing at you occasionally.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. How can I help yo-oh. Oh.” Felix looked up at you smiling, still blessed with a tinge of pink across your cheeks.

“I should’ve given more context. Yes, I’ll go out with you tonight!” You didn’t know where you received this newfound confidence, but you were going to use all of it.

“Oh, really? That’s great! I’ll meet you there then. Be careful, okay? Can’t have you getting hurt before we have our first date.”

Once again you had melted into a puddle of nervousness. Unable to voice out anything, you nodded your head multiple times and ran out the café. Your hands were cold from the chilly season, but your heart was warm from the cute barista.

It was ten past four. You were sitting under the shade of 31st Bus Stop, fidgeting with the hem of your waistband and looking around, by yourself.

You weren’t losing hope, you were sure Felix was on his way right now. He would never stand you up, right?

Right?

Regardless, you sat on the uncomfortable metal bench in freezing weather, and you were about to text him, when…

You realized you didn’t have his phone number.

You weren’t going to go home, however. Determined Y/N was planning to wait for as long as it would take. You trusted Felix.

Forty minutes now. You had been playing some mobile games, looking out at the bustling street in front of you. During the winter season, the sun set earlier, so it was already dark and it definitely wasn’t safe for you to be alone. However, you were determined that Felix would arrive soon.

Five more minutes was what you told yourself as you stared out into the empty road, now barren of cars as the rush hour was over.

“Lee Yongbok, where do you think you’re going?”

Felix cursed under his breath and turned to Mr. Park with a small smile. “I’m done with my shift boss, I’ll get going now.”

“Felix, it's peak season right now. If you don’t remember what I told you guys during the brief meeting, I’ll say it again. From the 12th of December to the 25th of December, all of you have your shifts extended for two hours due to the influx of customers during the Christmas season. Is that so hard to understand?” Mr. Park crossed his arms and squinted at Felix.

“Mr. Park, I’ve understood that rule. I did my two-hour extension, now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going now. I have somewhere to be.” Felix tried opening the door and walking out but was pulled back by a stronger arm grabbing his.

“Nuh-uh, young man. I’m sure that whatever event you have today isn’t going to be as important as the wellbeing of Little Leaf. Now if you’ll excuse me, do get your apron and hat back on and go back to manning the counter.” Mr. Park mocked.

Felix sighed and tried one last time at changing the mind of his horrible boss. “But Mr. Park, I swear, I did my two-hour extension, you can check the roster if you-”

“Get back to work, boy. Unless you want to start a new job in 2021.”

Felix sighed and threw his bag down, walking to the staff room to retie his apron.

Later, when Mr. Park checked the roster, he would find out that Felix did do his two-hour extension, and that he never lied.

An hour and a half, that was how long you waited. No one would ever wait for that long. No one would ever stay alone at late hours of the day, waiting for someone who probably wouldn’t even show up.

Tears stung your eyes as you sighed and stood up, huffing and smoothening your outfit out. You thought that Felix had probably stood you up. It was probably a dare, maybe he had been dared to write a generic love serviette to some desperate person who fell for his charming looks. Even then you couldn’t help but think of Felix, and tears streamed down your face as you trudged back home.

“Y/N! Y/N, wait up! Y/N, don’t leave, hear me out.” The voice you had been waiting for finally could be heard.

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face a panting Felix. His hair was disheveled, apron still on, and his jacket was worn the wrong way round. What an entrance to a first date.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Mr. Park honestly...he kept me for an hour more, before I convinced him to let me leave. I don’t know why, I’m so sorry. I honestly didn’t think you would be here, no one would stay that long. Please, give me another chance?” Felix took a few steps closer to you but maintained his distance. His eyes scanned yours for any response.

“I’m- I mean, it's not your fault...but you made me wait for so long. I just, I don’t know what to say. I thought you stood me up.” Your eyes watered once again.

Felix immediately waved his hands in denial and took one more step closer to you. “No, no, Y/N. I would never. I’m sorry if you thought I would ever stand you up. I should have made my way here over faster, if only I gave you my phone number. I’m so sorry-”

Your eyes suddenly widened, and you looked up. White, shimmering, pieces of ice fell upon the both of you. You stared at him in awe, mouth open wide.

It hadn’t snowed in Seoul for a long, long time. Maybe this moment was special.

Felix smiled back at you. Amidst the white rain, he took a few steps closer to you until the both of you were so close that you could...kiss.

“Y/N. I apologize. I’m sorry for being a horrible first date. Will you forgive me?” His dark chocolate orbs glanced into yours, dragging you into a new universe.

“Yes. I’ll forgive you.” You whispered, looking at the ground.

His eyes scanned yours for any sort of consolation. He didn’t even need to ask anymore. “Y/N, can I kiss you?” He quietly asked, using his pointer finger to tilt your chin upwards.

As you nodded, he leaned in and placed his lips on yours, as the both of you stood amidst the snow. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he put his around your waist and the both of you deepened the kiss.

Two lone beings, coming together as one, in the midst of a snow-struck city.

2021 © fluffi

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keijikunn · 4 years ago

Text

The things we do for love

── A @babythotshq collab “Winter Wonderland”

BUILD A SNOWMAN

Pairing: Kunimi Akira x fem!reader Tags: time skip, fluff Summary: Kunimi Akira learned to love the snow through the years. All because of you. Word count: ~2.5k

Author’s note: This is my piece of Winter Wonderland, and my Secret Santa is Mimi from @mimi-cee-hq! It’s the first time I’ve ever written for Kunimi, so I hope I didn’t mess up too much. We don’t talk that much, but you are very dear to me, Mimi! Hope you had a great holiday and an even better New Year!!

Kunimi Akira hated snow. It bothers him how it wets his clothes, how moving around gets complicated because of the iced streets and, obviously, the cold weather. The boy couldn't see the appeal of the traditional white cover of the winter. He has to wear layers of coats to protect himself, not to mention the constant need to remove the snow from the sidewalk.

Leaving bed in the morning was hard, going to practice wasn’t pleasant - not that the other days were, in Kunimi’s opinion. Whenever the forecast announced the first snow of the season would fall soon the raven haired boy's mood instantly dropped. As a child, no one could talk to him as soon as he woke up - his young version needed his sweet time to get warm and cozy inside his school uniform.

The adult life didn’t make it any easier, only adding to his dislike. After moving out of his parents’ house at the beginning of his second year in college, Kunimi faced all the problems of snow by himself. He had to clean up the muddy trail his boots left at the entrance, shoveling all of it every morning before classes and the worst of all, in his opinion, the constant black outs because of heavy snowfall.

Kunimi absolutely hated snow.

Contrasting his opinion, there were yours. You loved the iced water that falls during winter, painting Miyagi in white. This season of the year has some magic in it, you couldn’t really explain; but ever since you can remember, early december mornings meant bundling yourself in your thickest coat to play with the first snow.

His first impression of you wasn’t the greatest, since you were the reason why he got a cold.

Kunimi wasn’t in his best humor.

He adjusted his scarf around his neck, pulling the strings of his hoodie together, trying to prevent the cold wind from hitting his ears. He underestimated mother nature, not believing it could snow as much as it did during the morning while he was in class. Kunimi’s clothes, though they seemed to be warm enough to the cold day of winter, didn’t suit the wetness of melting ice on the street.

“I hate this.” The boy muttered under his breath, taking another step into a thick layer of snow. His socks, drenched in a ridiculous freezing water, could be enough to stop his blood circulation on his feet. “And people wonder why I despise snow.”

The familiar beige wall of his house appeared on his eyesight, ripping a sigh from his chest. Kunimi was so ready to reach his home, take a long and hot shower and confine himself under his fluffy comforts to sleep. All he needed to do was take a few more steps, then he’ll be-

A sudden touch on his back made him fall over, his arms barely reacting on time in order to prevent major injuries on himself. The weight of a second body on top of him knocked the air out of his lungs, said sensation intensified by the cold snow wetting the front of his hoodie. His feet were already cold, the tip of his nose was red and now this? Kunimi was fuming to say the least.

“Oh my gosh, Kunimi-kun, I’m so sorry!” He recognized that high pitched tone, it was his neighbour’s daughter, Risa, and an unknown girl trailing behind her. The older one sported an apologetic smile on her face, but her gloves covered in snow gave away she wasn’t that sorry. “I didn’t mean to bump into you. I was building a snowman with my cousin, Y/n, but then she decided to throw snow at me!”

“Sorry!” She was pretty, Kunimi had to admit it, even though she was wearing a white beanie matching with a scarf hiding almost her entire face. A pang of jealousy struck him at the sight of such a comfortable and warm outfit she’s wearing.

“Whatever.” Kunimi exhaled deeply, evidencing all his annoyance, not sparing a second glance at both girls. Risa exchanged a few words with her cousin that he couldn’t make out- and he didn’t care at all.

Now he had another reason to arrive quickly at his house. He definitely needed a warm bath.

No words could describe how pissed off Akira was the next morning, when he woke up with a sore throat and high fever. He didn’t know if he was more angry at nature for having snow as part of it, the pretty cousin of his neighbour or himself for not checking the forecast. Either way, he still was sick and cranky regardless of the blame he desperately wanted to attribute to somebody else besides himself.

His parents were off to work, leaving him by himself in the house. At least I got to stay in bed the whole day, Kunimi reasoned with himself, letting a content sigh escape his lips. He snuggled into his soft covers, turning to his side to reach out his phone to kill some time. The first thing that caught his eyes was the little icon on his forecast app, indicating it wouldn’t snow that day. Kunimi rolled his eyes at the coincidence, exactly the day when he hadn't to leave his house he checked the weather.

“I should sleep, it’s not like I have many free days to do whatever I want.” He muttered under his breath, voice raspy and a few octaves lower than usual.

The boy didn’t know how long he slept, but he was harshly pulled off from subconsciousness by a loud knock on his front door. He groaned in annoyance, turning to face the wall, covering his head with the black covers over him. Kunimi thought that pretending no one was at home would make the unexpected visitor leave after a few tries.

“Kunimi-kun, I know you’re in there. Your parents dropped by Risa’s house asking me to check on you. Heard you’re sick.” A feminine voice shouted, making him wonder how old his parents thought he was. Ask for the neighbours check on me? Am I 7 years old, mom?

Having no choice but to open the door for the strange girl, Kunimi put on the nearest hoodie he found and a disposable mask his dad left on his desk. He didn’t realise the sickness made him weak and gave him body ache- after all, he spent the whole morning lying down. Preparing mentally to have that social interaction, the black haired boy unlocked knob, opening the entrance.

The familiar beanie, now with a dark blue scarf, hiding almost her entire face - besides her eyes - came into Akira’s sight. Behind the girl, he could see the little path that led the gates to the door was cleared from snow and he wondered when his dad had time to do it between his tight schedule. Focusing once again on the person in front of him, Kunimi noticed a thermal bag in her hands.

“Hi, Kunimi-kun, I’m Y/n- Risa’s cousin. We met yesterday.” She bowed quickly, minding the object she had in hands.

“How could I not remember?” Kunimi shot back under his breath, but he knew Y/n heard what he grumpily said, offering him half smile.

“Your parents stopped by Risa’s house in hopes to talk to her parents, but they’re off on a business trip and I’m babysitting that little rascal,” Y/n started to explain. “They told me you were sick, and I imagined that me and my cousin had some blame on it. So we cleaned the doorstep and I made okayu* and a bottle of shogayu** as apology gifts.”

“You didn’t have to Y/n-san.” He faked a smile, you actually had to, it’s your fault I’m sick. “Thank you for these, though. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it!” She answered passing him the item and slowly stepping away from him. “Get better soon. And next time, wear thicker clothes!”

“Thanks, I will.” Kunimi scoffed, finally closing the door from the outside’s cold weather.

His first impression of Y/n was terrible. She liked snow, she made him sick and teased him about his questionable choices. Kunimi hoped he’d never see her again.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Kunimi’s first encounter with you pulled him out of his slumber, a faint smile on his face as he remembered the very first time he saw you. Almost three years after that, he found himself lying on the bed you share with him.

Life is funny, huh?

He was quick to notice you weren't there beside him, your side of the mattress still a bit warm - indicating you just left your position. Rubbing the sleep away from his eyes, the black haired man got up and headed to the bathroom outside his room. The water was unnecessarily cold, though justified by the season: it was winter after all. The exact period of time Akira grew to tolerate by your side. Much to his surprise, since the very first winter you two spent as a couple he watched his words about your favourite weather.

You were at the living room, staring through the glass door that led to the backyard. The man quickly noticed the reason that captured your attention: the snowflakes danced in the air, slowly falling down. The first snow always captivated you, and Kunimi didn’t understand why, just like he didn’t wrap his head around the fact the iced water could be actually nice.

“I’m surprised you’re not out there desperately trying to get a cold.” Kunimi teased, voice still husky from the long period of inactivity of his vocal chords. You turned to look at him, a smile plastered on your face. “Good morning, weirdo.”

“Morning, grumpy.” You extended your hand, signalizing the boy to scoot over - which he complied. The sensation of your arms wrapped around his waist was comforting, emanating enough warm to face whatever winter storm that has yet to come. “Will you build a snowman with me?”

“Is this a nicer way to say you want to knock me down on snow just like you did when we first met up?” He asked sarcastically, causing you to let out a loud laugh as you recalled said memory. “I got sick for days that time, it wasn’t good.”

“But I did clean your doorstep and made you food, Akira.” His facade broke at your beautiful smile. Of course you would pull this card, you always did when you two would playfully banter about how Kunimi always manages to get sick after spending some time outside during winter. “And I always take care of you whenever you get sick.”

“Touché, hm?” The pad of his index finger ran softly across your cheek, then Kunimi’s large hand cupped your face lovingly. The man recalled the past three years you spent as a couple, traditionally going out to please you; followed by a couple of days of Akira’s bed rest and tons of missoshiro*** to ease his aching throat from the cold he always manages to get. “Let’s go change clothes, yeah? I know later the snow will be stronger, and I definitely don’t want to be out there when it comes.”

The sparks in your eyes never fails to swell Kunimi’s heart, resulting in a soft look he casts at your back as you retreat to your shared bedroom to change from your fluffy pajamas. As the time passed in your relationship, Kunimi learned how to… tolerate little things he usually doesn’t - all because of you. You definitely changed his sour winter spirit.

“C’mon, Akira!” You screamed from the other room, too excited to wait any longer for your lazy boyfriend.

“Don’t rush me, woman, the snow won’t melt in five minutes!”

Kunimi’s hands were stupidly cold. Even the leather gloves he has on weren’t enough to keep the warmth inside, all because he had to help you build a snowman. It wasn’t working, the snow was too soft to form any shape you wanted, but he hadn’t had the heart to tell you this - not when you were so happy to be in your backyard with him.

So, instead of complaining, Kunimi kneeled down to scoop more snow, trying to create a well sized ball to be the base of your personal Olaf (he called you dumb for this). After a couple of attempts, and slightly giving up on making in perfectly, the black haired man managed to finish his task. It was falling on the edges, the top slowly crumbling due to its softness and Kunimi held back a scowl at the sight of it.

“Oh, Akira! You did it,” you beamed happily, bringing a pile of snow that he assumed to be its head, and placed it on the top. The two of you completely ignored the proportion, as the body was way larger than the head, but that didn’t seem to upset you. Instead, you clapped your hands, quickly assembling the branches you found to make its arms and a few stones from your flower pots to make its eyes and mouth. “It would look better if Olaf had his carrot nose, though.”

“No, we’re not using our food in this.” Kunimi quickly denied, earning a huff as response from you. He stood next to you, carefully eyeing the poorly-done snowman, cringing at the fact he actually did it.

“It looks terrible!” Your sudden comment was followed by you bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Yes, because you can’t wait a few days to play in the snow like a 10-year-old kid.” He said back, bumping his elbow lightly on your side. As you protested at such action, Kunimi decided to unwrap his scarf around his neck, gently putting on the snowman in front of you. “Still looks like shit, but I guess it’s a bit better. Now, let’s go inside before I freeze to death.”

“You wanted to take off your scarf, dumbass!”

“I did it because you’d pout if I didn’t!”

The bickering continued even after the two of you took a nice and hot shower, slipping once again in your pajamas. While you were freshening yourself, Kunimi busied himself in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. It probably was a psychological effect, but he could swear his throat already itched a bit, even though any cold barely had the time to affect his system.

The things we do for love.

His train of thoughts were quickly interrupted by a tight embrace on his waist and a light pressure on his back. Your perfume overpowered any aroma the food in front of him emanated, filling his senses with the smell he associated as home. His left hand dropped from the pan on the stove, resting it on the top of yours on his abdomen.

“Thank you for this morning, Akira.” It was such a trivial thing to thank another person, but it wasn’t for you and him. Because you knew he despises snow.

“You better take care of me when I get sick from this, huh?” He playfully demanded, but he meant well- and you knew it.

The things I do for love.

*okayu: Japanese rice porrigde **shogayu: ginger tea ***missoshiro: miso soup

WINTER WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

DO YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN THE FUTURE RELEASMENT? FILL THIS FORM AND BECOME A BOOKWORM!

#baby thots collab #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu x reader #kunimi akira x reader #kunimi akira fluff #kunimi akira #haikyuu

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hheeyyhay · 4 years ago

Text

The Familiarity of New Memories

Pairing: Hitoshi Shinso x Reader (can pass as gender neutral if ya squint)

Summary: Old traditions make way for new ones as reader makes new friends with the help of a certain ball of fur.

OR Shinso volunteers at a shelter with a grumpy old cat who just so happens to play matchmaker between himself and the newcomer to town.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy my contribution to the Konoha Simps’ latest server collab!! You can check out all the other wonderful pieces in this event right here. This is the first piece of fan fiction that I have written since high school, and the first piece I have ever put out into the world for others to see. I cannot thank the members of the Konoha Simps Server enough for giving me the motivation and courage I needed to FINALLY do this-- I love you guys so much!!

Warning(s): fluff, mentions of anxiety/depression

quirkless college AU

Word Count: ~3K

There was no doubt about it, summer was officially on the way out. You could tell by the way green leaves were giving way to crisp splotches of red, yellow, and orange. In the way the cool breeze kissed your cheeks as it danced by. Most importantly, you could tell by the way your workload for classes picked up.

You tried to take in your surroundings-- take a moment to process a quick hello to autumn, and with it a farewell to simpler times. Gone would be the times where your biggest worries were what kind of trouble you would have to convince the rest of your friends to stay out of in between shifts at the local cafe. Normally, this goodbye was easier to say as it leaned to the happier side of bittersweet. After all, back home fall was your favorite season. That was all in the past though.

In your hometown, your walks around the neighborhood at the start of fall were comforting. You could stroll the streets with a snack in one hand, and a warm drink in the other as you headed to meet up with your friends under the canopy of changing leaves at the park. With textbooks sprawled across picnic tables and blankets the support of your friends kept you all warm against the slowly dropping temperatures. However, it was no longer the streets of your hometown that you were strolling along with a backpack over your shoulders, and it was no longer your friends at your side, but strangers.

You shivered, pulling your thick cardigan closer around yourself with a heavy sigh. You had been so certain that moving hundreds of miles away from home to finish your college work was a good idea. You had told your anxious family and friends that you would be fine, being alone in a new place for a while was just a sacrifice you had to be willing to make in order to pursue your dreams. Yet you began to doubt the truth in your own claims as the usual cold autumn wind whipped your hair about. It felt foreign rather than welcome as it would back home. The chill sunk into your bones where it mixed with your new found loneliness causing you to wrap your arms around your middle.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” you thought to yourself pulling out your phone to see no new messages in response to all the ones you had sent out. You had known your friends for years and were lost without them. You sighed once more, shaking your head as you pocketed your phone. It had been the fifth time in an hour that you checked your phone knowing there were not any notifications you had already seen. You scolded yourself for being foolish and worrying that your friends had moved on without you.

You had been distracted by the chatter of your own inner demons the entire rest of your walk, and it was not long before you were turning off the sidewalk onto the back walkway leading around to the front of the library.

You were headed inside to study on your own at the tables inside. It had become your new tradition after having found it too hard to study outside at any of the parks, where all the passerby would remind you of just how lonely you were here in this new town. As you rounded the corner and came up alongside the library you paused, noticing a lot more noise and chatter than usual. Balloons and signs amongst the visitors caught your eye. “Adoption day?”

You wandered closer to the tents that were set up in a corner of the parking lot. Upon closer inspection you realized that the people were gathering around various cages, crates, and pens filled with pets from the local shelter. There were as many different people there looking for new four legged family members to bring home as there were animals. Some children were leaning over a crate full of guinea pigs, others were picking out rabbits from one of the other pens, and still others were begging their parents for either a puppy or kitten. There were couples young and old alike speaking with the volunteers about which cat or dog was the best fit for them. You wished you could hang around a little longer, but there were so many people in such a small space that you could not help, but feel anxious. Turning away to finally walk inside you pulled out your phone once more to smile down at your lock screen; a photo of your cat from back home.

Pocketing your phone you caught a glimpse of something familiar out of the corner of your eye. Following your line of sight as you walked away, you were surprised to recognize a boy from campus. If his wild purple hair and dark under eye bags were not enough to make him stand out from the crowd then his lanky limbs decked out in his unique dark, edgy style definitely was. You paused at the top of the staircase to the library and watched as he spun around to crouch in front of a cage. As he stood there squatting in front of the cage you realized that he was a volunteer from the shelter along with the others.

With one last final look over your shoulder you walked through the door, leaving the boy and all the homeless pets outside. As he disappeared from view at your departure, you caught a last glimpse of him pulling a rather forsaken cat out of the cage he had previously been standing in front of. Heading to your usual secluded table behind some less frequented bookshelves you tried to not think of the cat or the boy who held it in his arms. From what you had observed from your short visit to the Adoption Day Event, no one else had shown the poor old cat any sort of attention. The lump of fur was not only fluffy, but a bit on the large side, and while his coat was far from scraggly you could tell that he had only recently fallen on some sort of good fortune. He was missing a leg and both eyes, rendering him blind. It made you sad to think that the others were more than likely passing over the cat in favor of the other healthier, younger cats who would not have as many problems. As far as the boy, you could not even begin to guess why he seemed to be clouding up your thoughts. It was not like you had ever spoken to him before.

Your thoughts were a jumbled mess and before you had known it you were throwing your pen down in frustration. “Ughhhh! This is useless! It has been two hours and I have barely put a dent into this chapter,” you dropped your head into your notebook as you slammed your textbook closed.

“Maybe I would have been better off just studying at home afterall,” you thought to yourself as you packed up the rest of your belongings.

You stopped at the circulation desk on your way to the exit to check out a book you had reserved on your previous trip in. “At least today wasn’t a total loss,” you thought to yourself as you gripped the book to your chest and headed for the door.

As you threw open the door and made your exit you were once again met with the chill of the outside air. It did not feel as cold as it had that morning though. You looked down at the book clutched to your chest and then back out across the parking lot. With a smile on your face and a new sense of determination that you had not felt since you had moved you found yourself walking across back to the makeshift shelter. The crowds from earlier had long since thinned only serving to further justify your impulsive decision.

With a deep breath you had brought yourself up to one of the tables where the last few volunteers were congregated around the forlorn cat. Everything else was just about picked up and it was clear he had not been able to find a “furever” home at the event. The volunteers, mostly middle aged women with bright smiles, greeted you and asked if you wanted any information on the shelter they were from or if you were perhaps interested in volunteering yourself.

You explained that you had recently moved to the area to finish your schooling, but that you had been especially missing your cat from back home. You showed them a few pictures as you expressed interest in the cat lounging on the table and using his one good front paw to swat away anyone who tried to pet him.

A deep voice from behind you startled you out of your conversation, “You really want that mangey thing instead of a cute kitten?”

You turned around and were met with the lanky boy from campus. You had been about to argue with him, stand up for your new feline friend when you noticed the boy was giving you a devilish smirk and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Shinso Hitoshi,” he extended his other hand to you, “I’ve uh--seen you around school a few times.”

You shook the offered hand and introduced yourself as well, “We have two classes together. I’d hope you’ve seen me around at least once or twice.” You tried to play it off cool as a blush crept up the back of your own neck. Your eyes searched each other up and down briefly and it took a lot of self control to not make an attempt to hide your face as you felt the blush grow across your cheeks as you watched Shinso’s own face begin to turn red.

“Ahh, well, I’m fostering old Charlie here until he recovers more from his surgery,” Shinso made a show of gesturing to his own eyes and then to Charlie’s like it was some secret or he did not want to hurt the cat’s feelings. You could not help, but stifle a laugh. From the impressions you had of Shinso you had not expected him to be so forward, or funny for that matter. “Lucky for you, Charlie is quite picky and has scared away any potential suitors.”

Shinso reached around you and was able to give Charlie a few successful scratches under his chin. You reached forward too and copied Shinso’s movements. While Charlie was a little hesitant at first, he quickly warmed up to you and much to Shinso’s surprise, even let you pick him up and give him forehead kisses.

“Alright, well I guess you passed the test,” he congratulated you as he took Charlie from your arms and gently placed him into a carrier. “He has another week or so, until he’s ready to go to a new home. If you want you can fill out one of the adoption contact cards and then one of us at the shelter can give you a call when it’s time for him to get ready to go home to you?” Shinso turned away as he once again began rubbing the back of his neck as he started turning red again, “Orrrrr, I don’t know. Maybe you could give me your number and I could text you updates or something?”

The other volunteers had slowly begun to disperse during your interaction with Shinso, and the last older woman who was left chuckled a bit to herself as she passed you a clipboard with the adoption paperwork. “Just fill this out for me dear and then Charlie will be all yours pending his final follow up with the vet. Shinso can go ahead and answer any questions you may have.” She gave you a final pat on the shoulder as she wandered off to help the others finish cleaning up.

You quickly filled out the paperwork and handed it back to Shinso, your phone sitting on top of the clipboard unlocked and already opened to the messaging app so he could add his number, “Please don’t tell me you volunteer at the shelter just to use the poor animals as your wingmen.”

Shinso made quick work of adding his number to your contacts and made sure he had yours as well before adding the clipboard to a pile on the table. “Only when they help me get the courage to finally talk to a girl I’ve had my eye on since she first transferred a couple weeks ago.” His face was red and his eyes were downcast. You wondered if maybe your first impressions of him were true and that Charlie had inspired him to do something out of his comfort zone just like the cat had done for you.

You could not put your finger on it, but you once again found your thoughts swimming with the boy from campus. This time though you had a name and even a voice to put to the face. You were not ready to say goodbye and decided to stay to help Shinso and the other volunteers finish cleaning up. The sun was quickly setting at that point and as the darkness rolled in so did another bout of cool autumn wind. However, this time you hardly noticed it. It carried a clean, crisp scent of fall that felt the most familiar than it had since your move.

You passed the time with idle chit chat, quickly becoming closer and closer to Shinso. You learned a lot about each other and came to realize you had a lot more in common than you would have ever thought.

Pausing you closed your eyes and tilted your head back taking a few deep breaths. It had been ages since you felt this content. You were not alone, you were not worried about the many different reasons your friends could possibly have for not texting you back, and you were not worried about the fear of never finding somewhere to fit in within this new place. You walked over to where Shinso had Charlie’s carrier resting on the sidewalk leading towards the back of the library. Kneeling down you poked your fingers as far through the bars as you could manage, “Thanks Charlie. Without you, I really wouldn’t have any friends here and I don’t think I would be able to love the fall anymore. With you by my side maybe I’ll be able to remember being stuck in this new place will be worth it all in the end.”

You had not realized that Shinso had come up behind you, and you bumped into him as you tried standing up. He gripped your elbow tightly as you regained your balance, “So you really are new around here huh? I thought so, but. Well. I don’t know.” Shinso shrugged his shoulders sheepishly as he let go of you and quickly gave you back your space. As he avoided your gaze and looked up at the setting sun you noticed just how dark the circles under his eyes really were.

“Yeah. Uhm,” you shifted your weight back and forth nervously as you tugged at your own sleeves. “Thanks for helping me with the adoption stuff. I hope Charlie doesn’t give you too much of a hard time before he can come home.”

There was a tension in the air as you were both starting to get cold as the dark approached, but neither of you particularly wanted to be the first to leave. You tucked a strand of loose hair between your ear, using the action to hide your face a bit as you gnawed on your lip. Shinso mirrored your uneasy behavior, staying halfway turned away and pulling his fingers through the mop of purple hair on his head. Luckily, Charlie had woken up and given a pitiful meow that sounded more like a chirp. It was just the encouragement you both needed as you and Shinso were once again able to make eye contact.

“It’s getting pretty dark and looks like it may rain,” Shinso broke away and looked up at the sky momentarily. You could not help, but be mesmerized by the way the sunset played on his pale features, accentuating his jawline. You felt the blush making its presence known on your face once more and simply nodded. Charlie chirpped again as if he were trying to encourage Shinso to continue on before he blew his shot. “My place isn’t too far from here. We could head there and hangout with Charlie for a bit to wait out the rain, and then I could walk you home if you’d like?...”

You could tell Shinso was nervous to hear your answer as he began rubbing at the back of his neck. Grabbing his wrist to gently guide it back down you flashed him a genuine smile as it felt like a weight was being lifted from your shoulders. The moment was interrupted by Charlie who decided that was the perfect opportunity to make it known that it was past his dinner time. “Come on Shinso, we wouldn’t want to make old Charlie think we’re planning on starving him.”

Shinso laughed and bent down to grab the carrier. “Wait until he realizes he’s going on a d-i-e-t after he’s fully healed up,” he spelt out. Charlie made a noise from the back of his carrier like he understood what Shinso was saying and was not pleased about it, which only made you laugh that much harder.

You once again found yourself taking the rear pathway behind the library into town. This time was different though. You were no longer alone. You had two new friends you could confide in. The leaves dancing in the autumn breeze were once again a welcomed sight. The dropping temperatures no longer reached the innermost corners of your bones amplifying your loneliness. The ghosts of the memories of your friends were no longer haunting you everywhere you looked as you walked down the street. There was now someone special you could create new memories and cherish the autumn with.

#hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinso x reader #shinso #bnha shinsou #mha shinsou #bnha shinso x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #fan fiction #shinso x y/n #bnha imagines #mha imagines

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starcrossed-pharaoh · 4 years ago

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Red Crackle Breakdown

Itstalkcartoons recently had a live stream interview with Carmen Sandiego’s showrunner Duane Capizzi, I’ve seen some thoughts on tumblr so after watching the interview I thought I’d drop down some direct quotes and talk about what happened. You can find the interview on Istalkcartoon’s IG page, it’s about an hour and a half long full of other tidbits about the characters and the show so definitely check it out if you’re interested. The post below will have spoilers from season 1 - season 4 so if you haven’t seen it yet, do not read below.

- Duane confirms that Gray is the most complex character and has the most complex arc of anyone in the show.

- Gray’s story was meant to be wrapped up in the season 1 pilot. Duane created his story for that episode only. After the pilot, the Writer’s Room was developed and he was blown away by the interest that people had in Gray as a character. It was from there they decided to go with the ‘amnesia’ arc to expand and enrich his character.

- Duane confirms that in the pilot episode, at that point in time, Gray “was willing to kill her [Carmen] for V.I.L.E on the train”. He says a little earlier to this quote that “we know Gray has good qualities, from his days back at the school protecting Black Sheep, but he’s still a criminal, still a sociopath” and he admits that this is a controversial opinion of the character. “He [Gray] says one of the most awful things to her, that anybody in the series has ever said, something like ‘You proved yourself to V.I.L.E, that’s all you ever wanted, wasn’t it?’ and it’s so demeaning.” By Carmen leaving him gift-wrapped in her coat on the train, Gray “got what he deserved” and Carmen “moved on”.

So what we do know is that despite Gray and Black Sheep being very close on the island, when Black Sheep defected, no matter how hard Gray could have found this he was still grimly determined to kill Carmen for V.I.L.E. This is heart breaking, not only for their friendship, but because of the successful brainwashing and nurturing of sociopathic tendencies that V.I.L.E did to these barely legal adults. Carmen clearly proved herself unique to this, she had the longest exposure to villains and brainwashing on the island, but her innate empathy for others won over her drive for success.

I suppose, we don’t know exactly what the lives of the other V.I.L.E members were like. We know from season 4 that Gray’s drive was to be successful, he was a junior technician at the Sydney Opera House and wanted more out of his life. But V.I.L.E is, essentially, a cult. V.I.L.E engages in mind altering practises, cull dissenters, dictate their students’ beliefs, education, social communities. They clearly target and prey on teenagers with specific skill sets, who likely have specific backgrounds that make them more vulnerable in society, or more likely to respond to a vigilante or criminal way of living. They clearly make sure that their students know V.I.L.E is their entire life, their entire community, and if you want that: you need to follow the rules.

It’s not too surprising to me that Gray is like this in the pilot. He’s a complex character leaning into sociopathic tendencies, he was written to be that way.

- Gray’s arc changes with his amnesia. Duane confirms Bellum created nice guy Graham Calloway onto Gray, it was a personality “grafted onto him” that opposes his personality in the pilot. Carmen protects Graham Calloway, she recognises that he isn’t the ‘V.I.L.E Gray’ and that he is innocent and has the potential for a do-over. This shows Carmen’s true selflessness, despite her ex-best friend trying to essentially kill her/take her down, she sees he doesn’t remember any of that and believes in his goodness. So much so that she protects it. It’s the opposite of where Gray was in the beginning.

- Tragically, when Gray gets his memories back, he does revert back to V.I.L.E. Duane does not confirm exactly why this is but he does say that Gray was never good enough for Carmen up until the finale. We can theorize and infer a lot from what he’s told us of Gray’s character, despite the good qualities he does have, he struggles with doing the right thing. How much of Gray is because of V.I.L.E’s cult-like brainwashing and how much of it is due to Gray’s own chaotic morality and ambition is up to interpretation. I’m of the belief it’s a strong mix of both. In saying that, I’d like to think Gray’s aware that if he defects with Carmen, he knows he’s as good as dead. Graham Calloway might have believed Professor Maelstrom would let him walk free, but Gray is not so naive. He made his choice a long time ago and taking Carmen’s hand is not just about caring about her, it’s choosing a side and who he wants to be.

Just because Gray doesn’t join Carmen doesn’t mean his arc is entirely reverted though. In the pilot, he was willing to kill her. After knowing her through the eyes of Graham Calloway, and having the empathy and naivety and kindness of Graham Calloway literally injected into him, Gray truly feels regret and empathy. V.I.L.E unintentionally gave Gray a huge gift they likely never foresaw: a different perspective. He regrets ever hurting Carmen and never wants to do so again. That’s a huge step from where he was at the beginning, but is it enough to leave what he’s familiar and used to?

There’s a lot to unpack there that I won’t go into because this is long enough. I think it’d be interesting to go more in depth about the psychology of cults and how future Gray and future Carmen would assimilate the personalities they were forced into. Do those personalities go away when the memories come back? Can the trauma of it cause black outs and more memory loss? What does it do to your mental health? Do you assimilate it into who you are? But I digress

- The most important part of Gray’s arc is in the finale. As Duane says, it’s Gray’s “coming of age, when he becomes a real person” and he does so by showing what Carmen stood for: true selflessness. There’s a bitter irony to Gray’s ambitions of success, his desire to work with Carmen as a team, pulling off successful and incredible heists ... all his dreams are coming true. But she takes more risks, he’s shocked by her ruthless and individualistic impulses, he knows it isn’t truly her, and whatever he could excuse before, he knows it’s wrong. He chose to be a criminal, Carmen didn’t. The final thing that gets through to him is what Gray knows she can never take back: killing Shadowsan. He defects and betrays, not for himself, not for success, not for anything except for her. He’ll risk getting killed, imprisoned, he’ll even betray this Carmen, out of a true selflessness for her to be herself again. He proves he has become a person good enough for Carmen Sandiego.

- I also absolutely love that at some point he changed his Crackle Rod to stun mode as a ‘maximum setting’. He didn’t plan for Carmen to be able to use it against him because he thought she couldn’t use it, so for awhile now he’s been ‘stunning’ people instead of killing them. Even though he returned to V.I.L.E, he came back as a changed person.

- His decision in the hospital room was also quite tragic, he didn’t want to complicate her life any further and Duane confirms he felt shame over his actions. That it was the right narrative at the time. I agree with this, though I’m a RedCrackle shipper at heart, the writer in me recognises the parallels of Carmen selflessly staying away from Gray to not ‘complicate’ his new beginning, and now Gray showing the same selflessness is a mirror to me that they’re on equal footing. (But also, please meet up again and talk to each other, because they’re the only ones who have gone through traumatic memory altering and personality grafting and there’s bound to be mental issues with that and they could help each other!)

And now, some talk by Duane on some RedCrackle hints:

- Carmen [on V.I.L.E island] was at an age where she probably didn’t know how to interpret her feelings for him, referencing when she called him a big brother to her. She tells Player she cares about him but doesn’t specifically reference that this is romantic or not

- 100% Graham was flirting with her in Australia

- They absolutely will meet up again in the future.

Anyway, I’ve seen some things circulating about the interview on Tumblr and I just wanted to provide some context and quotes from the interview. It was surprising to me that we were to read Gray as someone ruthless enough to kill Carmen in the pilot, because I didn’t interpret that exactly from my viewing, but I suppose that’s the great thing about art: it’s your interpretation. It also makes sense to me that Gray was written for the pilot and it was the Writer’s Room afterwards that took his character in new ways, just proof of organic storytelling. I also love that in the interview, he doesn’t specify any of the pairings as canon but if we saw things happen between characters or implied by a character, it was intentional, and I love that.

Definitely check out the interview for yourselves on Itstalkcartoon’s IG, they had a lot more to talk about, particularly with the goodbye to Zack and Ivy and Carulia.

Special thank you to Duane Capizzi, I doubt he’’ll ever read this, but thank you for your part in bringing this amazing show and its characters to a new narrative. It’s such a shame it only lasted for four seasons, hopefully in the future we get new stories to tell with these characters. As a complete side note, I am a New Zealander and it was so great to see NZ represented in media, even better that it was a Carmen and Gray episode :D To everyone else, thanks for reading this if you have gotten this far :)

#redcrackle #carmen x gray #carmen sandeigo netflix #duane capizzi #carulia #spoilers

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years ago

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The Headless Halloween Special || Morgan & Deirdre

TIMING: Halloween

PARTIES: @deathduty & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Some good stories are real, and there he is.

CONTAINS: mild gore, death

Stuffing cartons of milk behind dusty boxes of organic tea was a thankless job, and not a job anyone should be doing at all, actually. But Deirdre grinned wide and lopsided, proud of herself and hungry for more in the same breath. In any other month, she might have spared one pitying thought to the poor underpaid, overworked employee that would undoubtedly come across it and the acrid scent of spoiled milk. “What should we do next?” She beamed at Morgan, brilliant under the harsh grocery store fluorescents. For the better part of an hour, going around their usual shopping trip to cause what little bits of mischief they could, she had been bouncing on her feet, excitedly taking Morgan’s hands in hers and awarding her girlfriend generously with kisses and whispered affections. While delight of mayhem was nothing new, the season sparked a certain propensity inside fae, and especially for Deirdre--who had never gone this far into October without indulging a ring or two. “Oh but we do need---” Deirdre reached into the shelf and plucked a particularly pungent tea off the shelf--pungency known by way of trial--and dropped it into their basket. She was sure if she steeped enough teas together she’d be able to concoct a mixture that Morgan could taste. So far she’d blocked her own sense of smell and created something that had just a whiff of taste for Morgan. It might have helped to use something with more inherent flavor, but she was nothing if not determined. “There,” she grinned again, leaning in to press her lips to Morgan in another flurry of kisses. “Ooh, we should switch prices around! We can stick some ‘out of order’ signs on things too, I brought a marker! And--and--” Her eyes darted around, seeing a kaleidoscope of possibilities. In the end, she turned to Morgan and her grin softened as it so often did for her love. She wanted to know what Morgan thought, more than anything. It didn’t matter to her how many soda bottles they hissed out of their carbonation, only that Morgan was there with her. And just as her grins softened, her words were coded: “....you know I think we were actually supposed to get milk. Last I remember we were out.” This was one for I love you and no one moment would ever be enough.

Following Deirdre down her impulse rabbit hole was like dancing blindfolded on Hanging Rock. Morgan could sense the edge just beyond her, in the side eye of the tired cashiers, in the double-take of a fellow customer as they took a can of what they thought was baked beans but what was definitely spaghetti-o’s thanks to Morgan’s deft re-packaging skills. But Deirdre, floating on the call of distant mushrooms and the buzz of All Hallow’s Eve, reeled her from exhilaration, to panic, and back to safety again with just a crook of her finger, a stretch in her smile, a whisper in her words. Nestled so close on their misfit misadventure, with Deirdre’s lips fluttering around her like so many butterflies, Morgan almost forgot her fear that this wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her, keep her. Morgan fished out her notebook and craft tape from her purse and handed them off to her girlfriend; she had come prepared.

“I think that’s an excellent idea, my love,” she said, stretching up to kiss her back. “I bet you could switch the bathroom signs with the storage closet signs too.” It was going to make a lot of work for a lot of underpaid and undervalued workers, a pain Morgan understood too well, but whatever havoc they wreaked was better than losing Deirdre for two weeks and risking just as many people getting maimed and murdered with her mushroom brainwashing. So, really the universe should thank her for the mischief or keep its trap shut. And even if Morgan was hesitant to admit it, the experience was a little thrilling, especially given the night. In trying to get nearer to Deirdre’s mindwave, Morgan was able to unglue herself from some of her concerns. Tomorrow, when the black and orange crepe went down and the skeletons folded into boxes, she would worry about the consequences. But here, under the dangling cardboard Frankensteins and Draculas, it was all hazy and not quite real.

Grinning, Morgan peeled off a sale sticker and moved it across the aisle before saying, “When we pick up that milk, we can take an extra carton to hide somewhere til it spoils in a few days?” She said. “Ooh! Or maybe by the heating vent, so it gets smelly faster and the smell circulates!” She steered their cart toward the refrigerated section. “Also, what are your thoughts on cream or eggnog? It’s so pungent, it might be good to try. But I want it to be something you like too, just in case.” She pulled open the frozen doors and took out some of the cartons they needed when the sound of shattered glass broke through the hum of the everyday. Morgan clutched Deirdre’s sleeve. “Babe…?” She said, voice shrill in a way that asked what’s going on?

Deirdre set about making her ‘Out of Order’ sign, the letters big and bold and straight, her best attempt at typeface. The idea to switch the bathroom and storage signs was genius, and she whispered as much to her girlfriend, aglow with affection for her. They hadn’t quite mastered pushing a cart around while stuck together the same way they had walking, but Deirdre tried it anyway, body flush against Morgan’s band and arms wrapped around her waist. She had her love sandwiched between her and the cart she commanded, delighted at the ease at which she could lean down and press her lips to Morgan’s neck. Eggnog by the heater was such a good idea, yes, she mumbled her praise there, equally as gleeful about the mischief they could commit as she was about simply being in the presence of her girlfriend. In fact, she could have left the mischief altogether, and basked in her love. The part of her that retained sense, questioned if Morgan thought this was as fun as she did. She hadn’t stopped to ask yet, and just as she parted her lips to do it, shattering glass cut across their conversation. Deirdre snapped up, trying to hear the residual ring of a scream---maybe Regan thought it was a good idea to shop. But there was no scream, just the murmur of confused humans around her. “Someone must’ve just dropped a jar…” She sighed, eager to get back to their fun. But as her grip snaked tightly back around Morgan, she considered that the crash was too loud to be a tiny jar. Was it a whole crate dropped? No, there wasn’t enough rattling for that. Deirdre knew her glass breaking well, and it sounded more like a window. Then, as she considered it again, did she really care about someone’s window? There was Morgan and the prospect of stinky eggnog and what did it matter to her if the window broke and---Deirdre blinked. She remembered Constance, and her rage and havoc, and frowned. “Let’s go see, okay?” Her voice turned soft, “it might just be nothing, but there’s never anything wrong with going to check.” She took the cart from Morgan’s grip and took the lead as she moved them along.

She stiffened suddenly, shot up like an animal on alert. The cart slipped from her grip, crashing into the shelves, letting a few cookie boxes topple down into their cart. Deirdre thrust her hand into her pocket and fished out her enchanted choker, snapping it around her neck. She was aglow with something else now and she turned to her girlfriend with a toothy grin. “Someone’s going to die!” Deirdre took Morgan’s hand and sprinted to the scene---she couldn’t be late for the show, after all.

Morgan froze alongside Deirdre, her anxiety firing off one catastrophe after another in her mind. Constance loved breaking windows. If her classroom invasion was anything to go by, she was sure to like a grand production too. Maybe she’d gotten tired of waiting and she’d plough through the whole store so there was no one left to help her. Maybe she was trying to turn into a poltergeist on purpose, and reach that last bit of power she didn’t have yet so she could have all the fun she wanted. Or maybe this was some new eldritch horror. Maybe this was how the literal apocalypse started. Neither Deirdre nor her were going to know if this was where Morgan died. It wouldn’t be as peaceful as before. She wouldn’t be held or loved, she would just be here one second and gone the next, like that moment when you realize you’ve tripped and you’re about to fall. It would end with a gasp, and she would be all alone, and maybe… Deirdre fumbled for her choker and Morgan pulled her down as if for a kiss. It gave her something to hold on to, and if anyone was watching anything but whatever had just happened, they wouldn’t see the veins on her face. “You’re beautiful all the time,” she muttered, eyes flickering around them. Was it going to come when she turned around? Was it coming right now?

Then Deirdre pulled back, smiling like a kid in a Christmas special.

Morgan’s face pulled with confusion. “Uhh…” Before she could find the words for a question, they were sprinting down the nearest aisle to a cluster of humans holding out their phones to capture the mayhem.

“Deirdre—!” She hissed. “Wait! What if it’s—!” Dangerous? Potentially lethal?

A twenty-something guy stood in the middle, doused head to foot in blood. It was clumped all over his face and glasses, and running brown, ugly stains on his tweet and t-shirt combo. “Not cool, this was my grandpa’s vest! And you know what, he makes better fake blood than this! From the grave!” He pointed angrily and took off his glasses, trying in vain to wipe them clean while stained all over. Morgan followed his finger, still clinging tight to Deirdre so they wouldn’t be separated.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” Morgan whispered.

The horse was darker than dark. Morgan felt sure he wasn’t even black at all, just that her brain didn’t know how to process the void of death turned into hair and lean, restless muscle. Its eyes seemed to glow beneath its long, wild hair. Steam rose from this nostrils as it sniffed and reared, looking for something. The rider was dressed to match his steed. Everything from his cloak to his gloves were black and brought to a shine. He—and it must have been a he, Morgan had seen the cartoon specials and the horror movies and the legends too many times for him to be anything else—clasped the bridle with one hand, assured and patient. She had never been more awed or scared of such calm. How could such menace be so still?

He turned to survey the store. How he could manage that with no head, Morgan couldn’t guess, but she felt someone, something’s attention on her and felt it fade again. He lifted a saber, bright as the glinting spurs on his boots, and steered the horse into the crowd of shoppers, already taking aim.

Morgan watched, too transfixed to look at Deirdre as she hissed, “Is that what you saw?”

Deirdre didn’t know how, when or why it would happen, only that it would and that it would be here. The sting of holding in a scream would be worth it to watch the last moments of life for herself, in person---as if a vision would spoil the surprise. If only she’d known who she’d be seeing, she would have let her scream rip across the store. She could imagine no greater honor than announcing him with a wail. “The Dullahan…” Her delight grew in invaluable measures. She pulled Morgan close to her, arms strategically protective of her neck lest the Dullahan have slippery fingers. She smiled at the argumentative human now marked for death, she hadn’t screamed for him just yet, but she committed his face to memory so she might watch him later. “Where the banshee screams, the Dullahan claims…” She whispered, gaze fixed on him. He was better than any story described him; horse darker than any words could commit to description, cloaked in finer material than her grandmother cared to describe, and more commanding than their mythic retellings did justice to. “Don’t worry,” she held Morgan tighter, just as she would were they cuddling together at home, watching a movie. “The Dullahan won’t take what he hasn’t marked.” Which meant she didn’t need to keep her body wrapped around Morgan like a protective sheet, but even knowing the Dullahan’s truth, she wouldn’t be moved from concern. “You don’t have to look but…” Her warning died on her lips, sequestered between her grin. She watched his spine whip clack to the ground, dragging along as he trotted slowly, saber raised in his other hand. Would he let her come close enough to touch it? Would he let her wield it, just once? Surely, he must know of her too. The banshees and the dullahan were always linked in her stories, in the way her family spoke of his legend. Should she snap a picture to rub in her cousin’s faces later? Enamored, she nearly missed the main attraction.

It was the old man’s head who went first, a satisfying swish in the air and then a dun-dun as it bounced dully on the floor--one short hop and then nothing. Then it was his wife, who hadn’t gotten the chance to finish her screaming. The small crowd murmured around them, the bloody college student groaned his disapproval. It wasn’t realistic, he said. Too much blood, he complained. Such unnecessary gore, he could do better. Deirdre wanted to see him try. The Dullahan’s steed raised into the air, whinnying, small plumes of fire snorted out as it turned and started the trot back. Glass crunched beneath its feet as the humans conversed amongst themselves; was it fake, was it real, did they get a discount now that their fruits were blood-covered? Deirdre reached for Morgan’s hand and tugged her along. “Come on, let’s follow him! I want to talk to him. I want to--Fates, there’s so much I want to do.”

With Deirdre’s arms snuffing out the rest of the world around her, Morgan could almost imagine that she was watching some strange immersive play. The Dullahan’s whip was so finely articulated, she couldn’t catch how it held together except by magic. It glistened under the fluorescent lights in the supermarket, cracking louder than the rotation of 90’s pop hits wheezing through the speakers. The tune changed to “My Heart Will Go On” as the blade slashed through the air. Blood flew in one curling wave through the store to the tune of a romantic flute. Morgan covered her mouth, trying not to salivate as it bounced to the floor. Even with all she knew, all she understood about the world, finding out the headless horseman and all those Scottish legends were true sent her brain into some out-of-body experience limbo until the head rolled right to her feet as if it wanted to say hello. The brain inside was probably so juicy and firm, like a fucking burger fresh off the grill. Then came the second, the old woman’s scream cut off in favor of Celine Dion jumping into the next key. The bodies thunked to the floor, which ran slick and heavy with blood. They would be soft for an hour or two, the veins and sinew tender as spaghetti. Morgan’s stomach growled and begged for just one Halloween treat. Surely no one would notice, just one mouthful and--

Then they were running.“Deirdre!”

Morgan whined, missing her chance at just one cheat night from her diet, but she managed to call out a, “Totally just performance art, y’all! Sorry about your groceries!” Before they were too far away to be heard. They chased him through the parking lot, halting by the Subaru just in time to see the Dullahan’s horse launch itself onto a car and then into running traffic with preternatural ease. It was so bewildering she couldn’t help but start to laugh. What else was next? The Great Pumpkin? Morgan scraped a glob of blood from her cheek and sucked it off. “When were you going to tell me the Headless Horseman was real? And a what--ethereal banshee groupie? Banshee idol?” She asked. From Deirdre’s rapturous voice, she had a sense that she was at least close. “Come on, fangirl, you’re not gonna beat a horse on foot.”

“He’s not supposed to be real!” Deirdre beamed, committing the sight of his horse, whip, and headless body to memory. As a child, she only dreamed of him. There were paintings and pictures, of course, but none were like this. And though she often tried to bury the little girl that she was, she tried to awaken her now. She wanted to point and say there he is. Some good stories are real, and there he is. She met Morgan’s gaze, bright with glee. There was something else she could point to here, and she wished to stir her past awake again. There’s the Dullahan and a woman that loves you, both are real, both can be real. She would have been happier to know it. “Just a tale we enjoy,” she explained, giddily hopping around the parking lot. There was no horse of her own to give chase in, though she looked around as if one might pop up---the night was magical enough, it only seemed fair. She turned to Morgan and the Subaru, far from a noble steed but certainly...better than running. “Okay but drive really fast,” Deirdre bounced into the passenger seat, forging a seat belt and pushing down her window until she could stick her head out and watch the Dullahan. By luck, he seemed to be following the roads. “And of course I’m a fan,” she pulled her head back in, “have you seen him? His whip is made from spines! And fates I wish I could dump blood on the people I screamed for, or ride in to the sound of thunderous hooves. We’d dress like him with our robes and claim heads with our scythes but it really isn’t the same.” With a sigh, she fell back into her seat. “I don’t understand why he’s running away. I think by all accounts, he should really like me. Do you think I was too excited? I was too excited, wasn’t I?” When they caught up to him, she’d remember to tone it down.

Morgan’s dry incredulity melted at the sight of Deirdre’s childlike excitement. Four year olds in line to meet the ‘real’ Santa Claus couldn’t be any closer to joy than Deirdre watching the glint of that shiny whip in the evening. Morgan kissed her then, wrapping this moment in all its strangeness up and keeping it for later when needed to remember happy times. They had no trouble speeding out of the store. By now someone would have realized that the elderly couple had been killed, for real, and would need to stay put and give statements if they weren’t simply frozen with shock. Soccer moms and dads were most likely out inching along residential streets with their small armies of foam-clad superheroes, princesses, and monsters. College kids, already walled up in their parties. The winding freeway was quiet. The mist that rolled down was fine enough that the scant cars ahead were easy to spot and weave around, and down and down they drove, until Morgan could see the sparks flying up from under the horse’s hooves in the dark. “Oh, babe,” Morgan laughed. “No such thing as too excited. I want to remember you being this incredibly excited forever.” She gave Deirdre’s hand a squeeze, keeping her tethered down to the car. “Maybe he’s on a tight schedule. You should get your camera out, or throw him a gift to catch, or a scream, so he knows who you are.” Morgan’s hands tingled on the wheel as she spoke; she had that feeling of being on the edge again, whirling into somewhere unknown, like anything could happen next. It was enough to silence the worried questions at the back of her mind. “Also, when we get back, you absolutely have to tell me about the dress up games you played. And the stories. I know of human written stories about headless riders, including at least one female apparition, but I’ve only read Washington Irving and that silly Disney special that gave me nightmares.” She nodded at Deirdre encouragingly, there was no one around to endanger as far as she could see, and they were so close, she was almost on the Dullahan’s heels. “Go on. Let yourself have this.”

The Dullahan was a myth to her family no different from love, care, and humans of equal status. What did it say that she could see the Dullahan galloping away in front of her? That Morgan was holding her hand, speaking with laughter about her excitement. “Camera!” Deirdre exclaimed, wide-eyed. She searched herself frantically for her phone. Not that pocket, no that was a knife, that was also a knife, move knives---“Got it!” She unlocked her phone and found the camera app, a skill she had only recently learned. “Do you think he’ll want to take a picture with me?” She turned to Morgan, alight with possibility. Maybe he could come over? Would he come over? But as the car moved closer to him, Deirdre harnessed her chance and stuck her head out the window. “I LOVE YOU,” she screeched with inhuman power, too thrilled to contain herself enough to stop from cracking the Subaru’s glass. Web-like ripples shot across the windows, but Deirdre’s attention was on the Dullahan. He had no head to regard her with, but it seemed like he slowed, ethereal saber raised in one hand, whip cracked against the road in the other. Deirdre’s body lifted, she fell back into her seat a smile the widest her face could manage. “Did you see that!?” She laughed with bubbling energy. “I think he was waving at me!” She turned back to him, now at a loss for what to say. She held her phone up and snapped the best photo she could, a blurry piece of his whip, and savored it. “Are we going to follow him?” She asked. “I know we really didn’t get to look at the bodies back there, but I bet he’d let you have a snack from them, if he gets to another tonight.”

Deirdre’s excitement was so infectious, it almost took the edge off Morgan’s brain cravings. “Babe, you have to hold the phone still long enough so it can scan—babe, tap and hold the center of the screen for better exposure, the thing that looks like a sun—“ Morgan was laughing too much to be very helpful. She fished in the cup holder for her phone and tried to arrange it on the dashboard to take a video. She thought she mostly had a set up going that wouldn’t get them in a wreck, when Deirdre’s voice broke in shrill, wild waves over the night. Morgan hadn’t been thinking about the windshield when she encouraged this. The glass shattered, bowing outward as if it couldn’t get away fast enough. Morgan swerved, ears ringing, and almost launched them off the side of the road. The ringing faded in moments and she slammed on the brake so they screeched to a halt on the shoulder, just in time to see the Dullahan rear his horse ahead of them, sabre slicing the air under the full golden moon. Morgan couldn’t help but stare in a daze of disbelief of her own—was he showing off? Then he launched onto the other side of the turnpike, pounced onto a passing convertible to cut another red splatter before diving into the trees to take his next bounty. Morgan deflated, laughing deliriously. “What the fuck…!” She looked sidelong at Deirdre, panting as if she were alive again. “What the fuck…” It was all she could seem to say. Morgan varied the inflections, trying to squeeze the buzz of gobsmacked sensation electrifying her brain into them. When even those words felt like nonsense, she finally managed, “This is the officially the craziest Halloween I’ve ever had, and we’re not even in our costumes yet.”

It seemed like the Dullahan was here, and then he was gone. Deirdre watched him leave with her body pressed against the dashboard, trying to catch the last glimpses of him. “He left,” she pouted, but in the still of the night, another excitement rose to her. She looked over at Morgan, hair tousled by the wind, cracked windshield beyond her, and crawled across the console. She took her laughter against her lips, trapping them in a kiss. “I love you…” she mumbled, spilling her own delight. The Dullahan was gone someplace away from them, and she still had a dozen complaints about that, but for now she’d only wanted to bask in their glow of adventure together. “It’s the best Halloween,” she rasped, breaking into laughter. “Fates, I love you so much. I don’t know how we got so lucky to see the Dullahan, but I feel like it’s all you---your magic. It has to be. You make everything perfect.” She grinned and kissed her again, and another time for good measure. “I can’t believe he left.” Finally, coming down from her height of glee, she pouted, half-crawled into Morgan’s lap. “I didn’t even get to ask him if he liked that offering I made when I was twelve. And I took such a terrible photo...and his whip! I wanted to hold his whip.” Deirdre leaned against her girlfriend, sighing. “You’re amazing...you know that?” With a chuckle and a grin, mischief in her voice, she kissed her love again. “Let’s get you something to eat and then go home, okay?”

Morgan welcomed Deridre’s kiss, scooping her the rest of the way into her lap. Her hands tingled, clumsy, and she hit the car horn trying to cup her girlfriend’s ass. A passing car honked back, the shotgun passenger flashing a middle finger. “Sorry! Happy Halloween!” Morgan cackled. She hid her face in Deirdre’s shoulder, pressing kiss after kiss until her laughter petered out into soft giggles. “I love you, too,” she sighed. “So much, Deirdre. Stars above, this wouldn’t be fun at all if you weren’t here.” Without Deirdre she would have been terrified, and then scarfing down the elderly in the middle of the supermarket and ending up arrested or meme-ified on YouTube. But her head was light and tingling, maybe from repairing some minor damage, but mostly from the strange thrill of following Deirdre’s company wherever it led her. As they kicked back the chair and Deirdre finally settled herself against Morgan’s body, the zombie felt herself falling back into the warm safety that was them.

With the Dullahan gone, the only sound was the woosh of cars speeding past them, the night song of hungry bugs and owls and bats. Inside the Subaru, cracked and dented again, the quiet was perfect. “I don’t have any magic left in me to summon your childhood heroes for you, babe,” Morgan said. “If there’s any kind of magic going on, it’s the two of us, together. Everything’s better when it’s you and me.” Sometimes better was just hurting less; sometimes, more delight and strange, incomprehensible wonder than she knew how to process. “If you ask me, he wouldn’t have waved—twice—if he didn’t think you were pretty great, Deirdre.” Maybe he was a menacing show-off by nature, but with Deirdre on her shoulder, the kindest reading of the night felt like the right one. “You’re amazing,” Morgan murmured, growing soft and quiet as the rush continued to peel away from her like so much traffic.

She snorted dryly at Deirdre’s suggestion and kissed her again. “You just want to get out of Linda’s costume party,” she teased. “I’ll just have the leftovers at home. And we’ll have our own fun and treats before we arrive fashionably late for the party. How’s that for a good time?”

“By Death, Fate, and everything there is to be in this world, I love you Morgan. With Fate’s command, I love you. I love you.” Deirdre’s prayers became a nonsensical jumble of ancient phrases and what she could remember of her family’s religious teaching. Her mother would have called it blasphemy to take Fate’s name and press it to the skin of a once-human, still wholly human. But Deirdre thought it was right, it was true. Worship of Morgan was one she would gladly take part in, even squished together in the same car seat at the side of the road. Magic was a good way of putting it; something so beyond natural order that it defied law and rule. Something freer than the wind, more nebulous than the stars. Something that was just the two of them, together and at peace and in love. “And if you ask me,” she started with a smile, lifted her teeth from where she had begun nipping at Morgan’s neck, “he wouldn’t have showed up at all if the world wasn’t kind and good, just like how you make it.” With a huff, she pulled her arm out from where it had gotten crammed between Morgan and the armrest and reached it up to cup her love’s cheek. “I wish someone would have told me years ago that good things are real; the Dullahan, nights like these...you. Ignorance might have helped convince me that there was nothing better, but I think the truth would have made life so much easier to get through. If I knew I’d be here, one day, my days would have been colored with happiness.” Just as they were now. She leaned down and kissed Morgan again, content to stay there, content to—Deirdre groaned, and then dissolved into laughter. “I was hoping you’d forgotten,” she breathed, “I don’t want this night to end, sue me.” And, well, as far as she was concerned, Linda’s costume party was a doomed event by concept alone.

But she knew, with resounding truth, that everything was better when they were together. Even parties hosted by their annoying neighbours. And so, she smiled and said simply: “that sounds perfect to me.”

#wr deirdre #wr chatzy #wr deirdre chatzy #the headless halloween special #//it's short AND soft #wickedswriting

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altumvidetur · 5 years ago

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MCU Daredevil: MattFoggy Fic Recs

MCU Fic Recs Masterpost

So, I was thinking about the coronavirus pandemic and what I could do to help people out. I’m isolated because I’m at higher risk, so I can’t really offer to go out for my elderly neighbors or my family… but I thought I could try to help keep people entertained.

Because I don’t have an AO3 account right now, I’ve been compiling fic recs for my own amusement for a year or so. And I thought – maybe that’s the time to share these with everyone? So everyone will have plenty of things to read while they have to stay at home, or even to escape anxiety a little bit if you’re forced to go out.

Of course, these cater to my own tastes, so you may find stuff you don’t like around here. I never include works in progress. The Mature and Explicit works will be in italic. I ask you to READ THE WORK’S TAGS before continuing, so you won’t find anything that makes you uncomfortable.

I didn’t actually watch season 3 of Daredevil, so my recs are all from before that. I still plan to watch, so please take that into account when interacting with this post!

Fitter. Happier. More Productive., by what_alchemy

Matt tries to let go. He's not too good at it.

through the bookcase, imagining a scene, by returnsandreturns

“He’s back,” Karen says, making Foggy jump and drop his armful of books. She winces and drops down immediately to help him pick them up.

“Matt?” Foggy asks. It’s an optimistic guess—there are a lot of guys who could be back, like the guy who sits in a study carrel and eats peanut butter out of a jar with his hands and Uncomfortable Religious Missionary Guy, who is actually three different guys.

“Yep,” she replies, nodding and widening her eyes when she grins. “He’s flirting with the circulation ladies, which means you’ve got just enough time to steal my shift at the reference desk before he gets there.”

The Constellation of Touch, by what_alchemy

Months after Fisk is put away, nothing's right between the partners at Nelson and Murdock. But Christmas is here, and Matt is still expected at the Nelson house.

you won’t get better till you’re worse, by annperkinsface

The road to forgiveness has a lot of vodka.

my name on your lips, by unnecessary

It starts when Matt and Marci have coffee. Then Foggy and Claire have coffee. Then Claire throws a Christmas party, and really, it isn't like Foggy means to keep almost confessing to Matt, but can anyone really blame him?

I Decided This, by patster223

“I’m contributing yet another lovely sign to our office,” Foggy says, brandishing the finished product with a flourish. Matt can’t see the sign, but he can probably sense the flourish, which is what matters. “It says, ‘It has been ‘0’ days since Matt made an idiotic decision.’”

“Doesn’t seem like it will inspire much trust from our clients.”

What the sign instead inspires: debates, understanding, a patented Murdock-level guilt trip, ice cream celebrations, a kiss, and perhaps even a way to finally move forward.

We Just Lost the Beat, by knight_tracer and lady_ragnell

Matt hears a lot in the city at night, sirens and crime--and the late-night radio show Foggy With a Chance, which sometimes runs a Daredevil Watch if he's been particularly active, but which mostly plays music. He probably shouldn't call in and request a song, but he does it anyway.

I’ll Most Likely Kill You in the Morning, by inkfingers_mcgee

Foggy and Matt never met at school. They cross paths for the first time while working opposite sides of a case, and Matt doesn't leave an impression beyond the superficial: a blind, pro-bono crusader who Foggy will feel really guilty about having to oppose in court one of these days. Seemed like a nice guy, but no one Foggy will worry about a week later.

He has more important things on his mind, like the masked vigilante who keeps cornering him in dark alleys to threaten him for information.

Touch Me, Don’t Feel Me, by fabella

Foggy struggles to navigate a casual sexual relationship with Matt after the events of season two. It's predictably complicated.

Hold Me Fast and Fear Me Not, by lady_ragnell

Something in New York has everyone walking around with iron in their pockets, and it seems like the vigilante they're calling the Devil of Hell's Kitchen is at the center of it all. Foggy knows how to steer clear of that kind of trouble, but when the Devil seeks him out, he ends up in the middle of it with him.

A Janet and Tam Lin AU.

jump, check parachute, by augustbird

Foggy Nelson: good at law, terrible at feelings.

Just Wanna Take Him Home, by lady_ragnell

Foggy mostly takes little old ladies to parties doing escort jobs, which he's fine with.

Getting hired to spend two hours hugging a lawyer is kind of a departure. He should have known it would all get complicated fast.

Daredevils Don’t Drink Decaf, by ChuckleVoodoos

“I really, really want to make a joke about bats and blindness. Will you punch me if I make a joke about bats and blindness?” Matt shakes his head, grinning. “Okay, so we’re Superspud and Blind-As-A-Batman.”

In which Foggy uses his law degree to peddle coffee to unsuspecting caffeine junkies, and Matt is his favorite customer. Who may or may not be Batman.

Say You’ll Still Be By My Side, by lady_ragnell

Bless me, Foggy, for I have sinned.

Eres Mi Grande Avocado, by ChuckleVoodoos

Matt's got this way of speaking in Spanish that's just a little different than his way of speaking in English. In English, all of Matt's words are carefully weighed and measured and cut like crystal. They're precious but planned. With Spanish, the words seem to fall like drops of liquid gold, hot and rich and wild, and it makes Foggy want to gather them to himself and finally be warm.

Gazelle, Lion, Gun, by ChuckleVoodoos

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen has got some competition. Sassy sharpshooters do not make good crime-fighting partners, except that they really do.

Dream Catcher, by ChuckleVoodoos

When Matt has nightmares, so does Foggy. Unfortunately, Matt has a lot of nightmares. Even when he's not asleep.

Or: Matt visits Foggy after the bombings, and it doesn't go well.

Red Cross, by ChuckleVoodoos

Foggy is perfectly happy being a law-abiding physician with a weakness for cupcakes.

No one else seems to understand this.

Rocky Horror Pancake Show, by ChuckleVoodoos

Foggy falls asleep at exactly 12:00 AM, and he’s making a wish. He wakes up at 12:00 AM too—twenty-four hours before he fell asleep.

"Let's do the time warp again!"

The Boxer-Puncher, by one_flying_ace

“Matt, you’re my best friend, but you’re a goddamn idiot sometimes. It’s not about you. I’m not training, I’m not looking to get in a ring or do what you do. I just wanted to know a little more.” He says it fiercely, strongly, right into Matt’s ear like that’ll get it through to him any easier. “It’s not like I’m any good at it,” he adds, which is probably a mistake.

His heartbeat definitely spikes on the lie, because Matt flinches.

if ever joy surrounds you (you have to let it), by KiaraSayre

"I mean, I did think that maybe vigilantism is actually good for you in terms of, like, self-actualization or whatever, but - have you been seeing a therapist or something? Good talks with your priest?"

(Or, it's weird how weird things aren't between Matt and Foggy. Particularly when they're talking about boners.)

That Spin I’m In, by Werelibrarian and poisonivory

"What does that mean?" Matt asks Strange.

"Well, that depends," Strange says, unfolding his legs and letting his feet touch the floor again. Matt gets the distinct impression Strange is hedging. "Are you currently suffering heartbreak?"

Matt very carefully doesn't think about Elektra. Or Karen. Or Foggy. "Let's leave my personal life out of this."

Strange clears his throat. "Yes, well, that option may no longer be on the table."

Matt really hates magic.

How Your Heart Pounds Inside Me, by poisonivory

Hiring a surrogate alpha is supposed to be the simplest way to get through a heat - and Matt doesn't want to risk his heart again, not after the last time. But nothing in Matt's life is ever simple, and when his surrogate turns up again to oppose both Matt Murdock, Attorney-at-Law and the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, it's more than just Matt's heart at risk.

Just Our Hands Clasped So Tight, by poisonivory

If there's one thing Foggy Nelson knows about Matt Murdock, it's how tactile he is.

Will You, by poisonivory

Foggy's always joking when he asks Matt to marry him. Matt's always serious when he says yes.

- OR -

Five proposals Foggy forgot, and one Matt makes sure he'll remember.

Stay In My Arms (If You Dare), by poisonivory

The Defenders are the most elite bodyguard agency in the world. When Wilson Fisk's personal attorney Foggy Nelson walks in looking for protection from a mysterious man in black, Matt Murdock is more than happy to take Mr. Nelson's safety in hand. But Nelson's guilt is hard to prove, and Matt may have gotten himself in too deep - especially once someone besides the man in black starts gunning for his client.

I Would Know You by Touch Alone, by unnecessary

It doesn’t matter if Matt has a soulmate, because if he does, it’s not Foggy.

Written for this prompt on the kink meme: “Foggy’s soulmate mark is raised birthmarks that read ‘Matt’ in Braille.”

...Aaaaaand a series within the Spider-Gwen universe:

The Lawyer All the Wickedness, by poisonivory

(Summary by me: in which Foggy is, at turns, angered, baffled and aroused by scumbag defense attorney Matt Murdock.)

#daredevil #mcu #mattfoggy #fic recs #matt murdock #foggy nelson #otp: avocados at law #please warn me if any links are broken #and reblog it if you can so more people will see it

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ask-garnet-n-ruby · 5 years ago

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A Loving Christmas Gift

(A Christmas Special Story, Collabed alongside with my friend @vecnawrites Featuring Garnet and the Lovely Yang, Weiss, and Blake in a new AU of mine. I hope you all enjoy it.)

Another wonderful year had come and gone in the world of Remnant, and with Thanksgiving having long passed. The citizen within the Kingdom of Vale was beginning to settle into the mood of the Holiday Season. Families, friends, and lovers alike were out shopping; preparing for what would be a momentous occasion. Amongst them, a certain family a four was especially excited for the upcoming holiday.

“Yang, you got the rest of the decorations for the living room?!”

“Gimme a sec!”

Inside a fairly a large manor, activity was in full swing as three ladies were hard at work. Decorating and setting their house for a wonderful Christmas. The ladies in question where none other than Yang Xiao Long, Blake Belladonna, and Weiss Schnee. Former Beacon Academy students, who long since graduated and had worked hard to become the respectable Huntresses they are today. The girls had been through many things and had stuck by each other through thick and thin. They had come a long way since their first meeting eight years ago. And if one were to ask how they saw one another. It would be a simple, but heartfelt answer; they weren’t mere friends…

They were family.

“I’m finally done with the hallways,” Weiss called out, stifling a grunt as she stepped into the living room. Only to look with astonishment at the current state. “Oh my…”

The entirety of the living room looked beautiful; covered from top to bottom in Christmas decorations. Yang grinned, walking in with a box of finishing touches. “Nice huh?”

“I must admit, you two did a splendid job.” Weiss found herself agreeing, as Blake jumped down from the latter. Dusting her hands to join Weiss and Yang at the results of their two hours of hard work.

“Now all we need is a Christmas Tree, and it’ll be perfect,” Yang commented, no shortness of pride lost within her tone. Looking over to her partners, she asked, “Think he’ll like it?”

That question immediately brought smiles to the other two ladies in the room. As they knew exactly whom Yang had been referring to; the fourth and final member within their small family. And someone who had managed to single-handedly change all of their lives for the better.

Their beloved son: Garnet Rose

“Of course,” Was Weiss’ immediate answer. Out of all the holidays, Weiss had been looking forward to; Christmas had been the most highly anticipated for the Schnee Heiress.

Blake nodding in agreement. “Definitely; he’s gonna be amazed by what he’ll see.”

Yang brightened at the responses, thrilled that they had been sharing the same feeling she was in terms of their son. Thinking back; it had been a full 6 months since she and the others had first met the boy in question. Who would’ve thought a simple chance encounter at an orphanage during a simple community service, would spark the beginning to a life-changing decision. Not Yang, Weiss, or Blake; they would tell you that much. But neither one of them would complain about it, to them, Garnet had been a wonderful joy to have in their life. Something that they hadn’t been expecting to have this much of an impact on them.

Hearing the sounds of a car approaching, cut the blonde off from her thoughts. “That must be Garnet now.” She heard Weiss speak, already heading for the door before she and Blake could say anything. Blake chuckling in amusement as she followed her friend out of the room as well.

“Welp may as well go join them.” Muttered the Busty Blonde, setting the box down and heading to join the girls.

-X-

“Thanks again for giving me a lift Mrs. Goodwitch.”

A pleasant chuckled left the lips of the mature blonde, glancing over to the teenage boy sitting in the passenger seat of her car. The two on their way to the boy’s home after he had spent the day hanging out with the blonde woman’s son. “It was my pleasure, Garnet. But please, call me Glynda; Mrs. Glynda makes me feel like my mother.”

15-year-old Garnet Rose blinked before smiling and nodding. “Sure, Ms. Glynda.” He said before looking out to see the approaching mansion.

Glynda honestly couldn’t help but feel the ironic amusement swelling inside her at the moment. If anyone had ever told her that at one point she would driving home a child to some of her former students from Beacon Academy. Or that said child was friends with her adopted son. She would’ve honestly laughed at the mere notion, and yet here she was. She had been thoroughly surprised when she had learned who the boy’s mother, or rather MOTHERS, were. And while had a few legitimate questions as to how all three of them came to wanting to adopt the boy all at the same time. Seeing the look of happiness expressed all over the 16-year old’s face, made it feel a bit inappropriate to ask them; at least for the time being, however. Still, to think three of her most rowdiest students, would end up becoming caring and nurturing parents; it was almost mind-boggling in a sense. Coming up to the entrance of the house, Glynda nodded to Garnet as the boy stepped out of the car.

“Have a pleasant evening Garnet, give your mother’s my regards.” The blonde said through the windows.

“You too, hope you and Domino have the same as well.” Garnet grinned; with that all said. Garnet waved as the car pulled away and drove off until he could barely see it in the distance. Turning on his heel, he trekked up the small staircase of the mansion and made to open the door until...

“MMPH?!”

“Hey, Heeey~ Welcome back.”

The boy had not even gotten a chance to even touched the handle when the door suddenly flew open and he was pulled into a huge pair of breasts. Smothering and cutting off his circulation. “Mmph! MMMMPH!!!”

Yang chuckled as she held her precious son close, “You have fun at Domino’s today, sweetie?”

“Yang! Release him at once!” Weiss demanded, both upset and concerned for the welfare of her son.

“Aw, what’s the matter Weiss, jealous~” Yang grinned.

“Of you suffocating our son?! Never!”

“Oh please, we both know that if I didn’t grab Garnet first. You would’ve smothered him in a tighter bear hug than me.” Yang chuckled, rubbing Garnet’s head despite the boy comically flailing his arms. “You may not have tits like me and Blake, but that doesn’t mean you don’t trap our son in an iron grip. I swear me and Blake needed to get the jaws of life on you last time.”

Weiss’ cheeks flushed at the joking jab at her but didn’t immediately reply back to the cheekily grinning blonde. Though she didn’t want to admit it, Yang did have a point with her comment. She has been rather infamous when it came to her affections towards the crimsonette. Something she truly couldn’t help, she always did have a weakness for cute things. It was primarily the reason she loved working with things. She knew that, and she knew that Yang knew that. But there was no way she was going to give the blonde the satisfaction of knowing that.

So she just settled for folding her arms and turning away, “Hmph!”

Chuckling at her friend’s response, Blake pried Garnet away from a surprised Yang. Dusting her son off, “You okay sweetie?”

Gasping and finally happy for the much-needed air, Garnet nodded and looked up at Blake, “Y-Yeah, thanks, mom.”

Blake smiled and rubbed Garnet on his head before Yang slung an arm over her shoulder. Grinning down at the boy in question. “Alright son, I want you to close your eyes for us. The girls and I got something to show you.”

Garnet blinked, “Eh?” He looked at the two confused, only to glance at Weiss as the woman gently placed her hands on his shoulders and gestured him towards the other room.

“Just trust us and close your eyes.”

Confused but willing to trust his mother’s word, Garnet nodded and shut his eyes tightly. Letting his mothers guide him to wherever they were leading him too. His curiosity growing from the soft giggles that were leaving the trio of women around him. It nearly made him want to open one of his eyes to take a peek, but he knew that his mom would catch him immediately. Fortunately, it felt as though he wouldn’t have to wait long as the group suddenly stopped walking.

“Okay, open your eyes, honey.”

Silver-colored eyes opened and widened in shock, a gasp of astonishment leaving him before even realized it. Not even registering the look of joy and amusement from the surrounding Huntresses, as Garnet was staring at the completely decorated living room. Covered top to bottom traditional Christmas lights, stockings, ornaments and everything else until the broken moon. The crimsonette nearly dropped his bag, still speechless at the amazing display.

“What do you think?” Weiss smiled towards her astonished son.

“I-It’s… amazing…” Garnet managed to say, his mind suddenly going back to Christmas time when he was younger.

Back when his parents had still been. . .

A pair of arms wrapped around his neck, ceasing the boy’s thoughts before they could continue anymore. Looking to seeing Yang being the culprit, the blonde had a tender smile on her face.

“Hey, I know we can’t ever replace your folks. In fact, I don’t want us too,” She placed a hand on his head. “I just want you to know that we’ll be here from now on to make wonderful new memories from now on.”

“Yang’s right,” Blake chimed in. “No matter what, don’t ever forget who brought you into this world. And no matter what, don’t ever forget who’s your caring family now.”

“We love you, Garnet.” Weiss added lastly, “Now and always.”

Garnet smiled, wiping the light tears that was pricking the corner of his eyes as he nodded and hugged Yang. Feeling Blake and Weiss surrounding him for a deep three-way Motherly Bear Hug.

-X-

Dinner had been a small but pleasant one for the family of four, light chatter going about talking about one’s day for the most part. The evening, however, took a turn for the interesting by the time it had been nearing bedtime for the boy. When he was suddenly approached by Yang. Who was harboring an odd smile on her face; something that made Garnet raise a brow at.

“Um, Mom, is everything okay?” He asked, getting notable curious about her expression.

“Everything is fine honey,” Yang assured, folding her arms under her breasts before waving her hand. “But can you do mommy a solid. Come to our room in about… oh, 10 minutes? There’s something me and your mothers want to show you.”

“Eh,” Garnet’s curiosity rose at the odd request, wondering just what could his mother want to show him at this time. Never the less though, he agreed, “Um sure?” He responded slowly.

Yang smiled, completely pleased by the answers, “Perfect, 10 minutes now, and not a moment earlier, you hear me?” Not letting her son reply, the blonde had sauntered off, and if Garnet had been paying attention. He would’ve noticed the subtly sway in her hips as she walked off.

Curious but patient, Garnet silently sat and waited until the appropriate time was up before making his way upstairs to his mothers’ shared bedroom. His mind constantly trying to figure out what it was that they could possibly want to show him. Upon reaching the door, he knocked on it gently, “Mom, it’s me, Garnet,” He called out, only to blink at the sound of… giggling being heard?

“Come in~” Sang Yang’s voice in a surprisingly melodious tone. Making Garnet pause for a moment at the tone before shrugging it off and opening the door.

“I’m here,” He said entering the room slowly. “What did you-”

The rest of Garnet’s words immediately died in his mouth at the sight before him. There, sitting atop the middle bed, was his adoptive Mothers, Blake and Weiss. The two of them with a slight blush on their faces, posing seductively as they currently had on skimpy Santa-themed lingeries.

Weiss’ outfit was a simple halter-like lingerie piece with a fur trim lining the edge, held together by a string bow know. Covering her breasts while her toned abs were left exposed, and a pair of red g-string underwear to go along with the ensemble. Which only helped to serve the amazing hips, thighs, and ass, the petite Schnee Heiress had on her. With her hair down, she had a Santa Claus hat sitting on top of her head, to help complete the entire look.

Blake’s outfit, however, was totally different from Weiss’. Wearing a red two-piece outfit, complete with a fur-trimmed sleeveless hooded top. Barely reaching down to the underside of her chest, leaving her entire abs and stomach exposed; the top also sporting a cleavage window, with a bow tied at the front. Along with two protrudes at the top of the hood, allowing blake’s cat ears to freely wriggle about inside of them. She had on red boyshorts panties, showing off her iconic wonderful Bellabooty to the entire world.

The two mothers were harboring a completely flustered look upon their faces, but despite the embarrassing position they were in. They didn’t look the least bit embarrassed or humiliated to be wearing their outfits. Too bad the same couldn’t be said before their loving son.

“M-M-MOM?!” He exclaimed with his voice taking a cute high-pitched, as he immediately covered his eyes with his hands, “W-What are you wearing?!”

“You early Christmas gift.”

At the sound of Yang’s voice, Garnet quickly turned his head over to his third mother. Like Weiss and Blake, the blonde was also dressed up in a sexy Santa-themed outfit. But surprisingly, her’s was more conservative in a sense compared to the former two. As Yang had on a red dress-like robe, with white Santa fur lining the neck, wrists, and very bottom of the outfit. The robe held closed by a Santa Claus belt buckle wrapped just underneath her breast. But despite the somewhat reserved appearance, the outfit itself did nothing to detract from the wide hips and huge bust that the blonde huntress had been known for, for most of her life.

With the robe parting at the front, Garnet could see the white lacy panties that the blonde had on. Along with a pair of white thigh-high stockings. Completing the entire look. Garnet didn’t even realize how much he had been staring at the ladies in the room before his mind decided to snap back into reality. His gaze shooting downwards to the floor, finding it completely interesting all of a sudden.

“W-What do you mean early Christmas Gift?” He asked, cursing himself for the slight stutter.

“Exactly what I said,” Yang hummed with a giggle. “With the year coming to a close and you getting ready to spend your first Christmas with us. I thought why not make your first one, a memorable one? Something you can look back on for years to come?”

“I-Isn’t this a little excessive?!” Garnet choked a bit, still keeping his head down and refusing to make eye contact with Yang. “Even though you say it’s supposed to be a gift…”

“Hm~?” Yang tapped a finger against her cheek, a small grin forming on her face. “I’m not really seeing what the problem is; it’s not as if you haven’t seen us naked before.” The grin grew wider with Yang’s expression turning cheeky, “And it’s DEFINITELY not like you haven’t received ‘this’ type of gift from one of us before, either.”

The moment that statement was said, Blake and Weiss joined Garnet in the Ripe Tomato face club. It was the truth, something that was a well-guarded secret within the three mothers and sole-child of this adopted family. Was the sinful fact that Garnet had been rather… sexually active with all of his mothers. Something that occurred purely by accident once and by all rights SHOULD have been a one time mistake. But upon catching Garnet and Yang in the act that fateful day. A couple of things have been learned within the group.

Weiss and Blake were more perverted than they ever admit.

Yang’s slutty face, as she took their son’s dick from the back, was fucking hot.

And as for Garnet. . .

Well… let’s just say, not everything about him was as little as they initially thought.

Seeing that there was going to be no form of comment or rebuttal from her flustered baby boy. Yang took this chance to grab him and plop him on the bed; right in between the Schnee Heiress and Faunus Princess. Garnet himself momentarily stunned, didn’t have a chance to stop his as she yanked down his pants and show off his member to the trio of beauties before him. “MOM?!”

A chuckle left the blonde’s lips at the sight Garnet’s ‘not-so-little’ Rose, stood tall and proud. Twitching occasionally, “Boy, for someone who supposedly doesn’t like his gift; your friend here seems to be telling us another story.” She ran a finger down the 16-inch monolithic length. It wasn’t long before the musk coming from the cock wafted through the air, hitting Yang’s nose with his intense smell. Nearly making the milf cave and pounce on the boy.

“Oh man, if only,” She said softly, but slapped her cheeks and snapped out of her trance. “But alas, I’m not going to be the one servicing you first; that little privilege belongs to another.”

As if on cue, Weiss took a deep breath and joined Yang, getting on her knees. The sight itself surprising Garnet, “W-Wait, what?”

“The girls and I decided on the order on who would please you first.” Yang clarified, smirking as she put her hands on Weiss’ small shoulders. “And since you had came up with the team name ‘RWBY’ for our little family. What better way than going down the letters in the respective order.”

Weiss didn’t say anything but gave a slight nod confirming everything Yang had just said.

“Well now, come on~” She pushed Weiss into Garnet’s crotch. Her face rubbing against the hot member, “You don’t want to keep our son waiting now, do you?”

Weiss pouted and glared at the blonde sitting at the crimsonette’s side. “You’re enjoying this way too much.” Blake watched the interplay between the blonde and snowy-haired woman in amusement.

“Me? And exactly WHO was it that suggested we go out and buy some sexy lingerie outfits for Garnet to enjoy?” That quickly shut Weiss up. “EXAAACTLY.”

That little revelation surprised Garnet, “Wait, mother, you were the one who-”

“I-Ignore her!” Weiss said abruptly, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Yes,” Blake said, nodding her head solemnly, although the wicked smirk on her face said how much she was enjoying this, as well as getting a betrayed look from the Schnee.

“Blake! Why?!” The woman nearly shouted.

“What, I see no reason to lie to our son. It’s the truth isn’t it?” Blake said with a playful shrug, “And besides, it wouldn’t be proper to set the example of it being okay to lie to those close to us.” She nuzzled against Garnet, “Isn’t that right, honey?”

“Ah, um…” The boy just remained silently, opting to keep out of the little banter between the older huntresses.

Mortification set into the petite Schnee, with no help coming from the rousing laughter from Yang. ‘Hate you, hate you both.’ Was the sole thought running through the Heiress mind. “Alright fine, I admit it. I suggested this when I learned we would be doing this for you. Happy?”

Garnet’s dick twitching and hitting against Weiss’ chin lightly told everyone in the room what the boy thought of that.

“Seems like he does,” Yang giggled at the boy covering his face again. “But anyways, Weiss, you were about to start?”

Sighing deeply, she took a breath and mentally prepared herself. Looking up at the 16 inches of raw intimidating dick before her; no matter how many times she looked at it. She still couldn’t believe something like this had been hiding within her son’s trousers this entire time. And the fact that her son had an innocent, almost baby-like face made this fact even more jarring.

Still… ‘Better than her wasting her time on a certain Vasilias.’ Weiss didn’t care what any said, supposedly skilled or not. Four measly inches is not something one should brag about. At least it provided entertainment when Weiss spread that little rumor amongst her friends and the Huntsmen/women community.

That aside, coming back to the main focus at hand, Weiss gently gripped the length in hand, her fingers barely wrapping around the cock as she began stroking him off gently. Her hand already feeling the heat pulsating against her palm; a silent gulp leaving the Schnee. Leaning in, she started kissing the tip of Garnet’s cock, working her way down slowly peppering the inches not occupied by her hand. While her other free hand made its way down his huge ballsack. Cupping them and giving a light massage as she fondled them. The double assault eliciting moans of pleasure from the teenage boy in question.

Emboldened, Weiss decided to waste no time and get to the main event. Wrapping her soft lips around the tip of the length, the Schnee Huntress slowly descending down her son’s member. Inch after every thick girthy inch disappearing into the Heiress’ mouth. The sight itself almost like a magic trick with how easily the mother was able to take him without any problems.

Hissing lightly, Garnet gripped the edge of the bed tightly, his body never getting enough whenever his mother pleased him with her mother. From her tiny mouth, down to her incredibly tight throat coiling around the length. He wanted to say something but choked on his own words. And preferred to just sit back let his mother take over. Weiss continued until she reached the very based of Garnet’s dick, anyone who was to catch a glimpse of her neck; would see how disfigured it was from the massive bulge. A testament to how endowed Garnet was.

Steeling herself, and placing a hand one of Garnet’s thighs, she began bobbing up and down. Her pace starting out slowly, wanting to savor the taste of her child’s dick coating her mouth. Her tongue working eagerly, licking the underside of his cock; shuddering at the salty, but by no means unpleasant taste. Her thighs beginning to rub together unconsciously as she moved faster. The sounds of her slurps filling the air of the quiet room as Blake and Yang watched their friend worked Garnet’s shaft.

“Heh, as usual, doesn’t take Weiss long getting into blowing Garnet,” Blake commented, no shortage of amusement in her tone.

“Yeah, for someone who’s supposedly embarrassed being sexually intimate with someone younger than her. She has no problem letting her inner slut come out.” Yang chirped with a small laugh.

A bulge pulsed under her left eye at the comments and was about to pull away to say something. But two hands, suddenly grabbing her head and forcing her back down to the base of the cock; robbed her of any chances of speaking. Light blue eyes widened before looking up to see a pleasure-riddled Garnet being the culprit of the abrupt action. The teen unable to hold himself back as he began to face fuck Weiss’ mouth himself; grunting to himself in exertion. Weiss for her part, while stunned, didn’t attempt to fight off or resist Garnet; in fact, it was something she had been secretly anticipating.

One thing she had absolutely come to love during her time she’s had sex with Garnet; was her growing addiction to being face fucked by the young teenage boy. The sense of helplessness she felt whenever he grabbed her hair and skull, driving his cock as deep as he physically could into her tight little throat, turned her on more than anything else. Her hands were already in her panties, pumping two of her fingers into her heated, now soaked core. Moaning sluttily around the cock, no caring about Blake and Yang seeing this other side of her beginning to come out. Not that it really mattered as the two other milfs started playing with Garnet as well.

Blake turning the boy’s head pulling him in for a kiss, her rough cat tongue playing Garnet’s regular one; the two battling for dominance. Whereas Yang reached down to cup and fondle Garnet’s unattended balls; having been abandoned by Weiss for her own stimulation. The blonde also took to teasing Garnet’s nipples, licking and softly biting the sensitive teat. Leaving Blake to pinch and rub the other one. The triple assault on his body overloaded Garnet’s brain, becoming too much for the teen to handle. Toes curling, Garnet yanked down and buried Weiss’ face into his crotch; breaking away from his kiss with Blake and grunted loudly.

The Schnee Dust Heiress could feel her precious son’s hot sticky cum exploding into her mouth. The salty texture coating every inch of her tongue and throat, making her shudder; her eyes rolling into the back of her skull as she reached her climax as well. Her juices squirting intensely over her fingers and panties; coating the floor as well with her essence. The two remained the way they were for a few long moments before releasing his hold on Weiss. Letting the lithe figured woman free to pull up and gasp for air; coughing lightly as some excess of Garnet’s seed shot out on to her face.

“S-So thick…” She uttered breathless, licking whatever she could with her tongue. Closing an eye, feeling Garnet’s jizz run down her face. “You must’ve been backed up quite a bit, huh sweetheart?”

Garnet panted, his face flushed red; though whether it was from the orgasm or his mom’s comment, no one would know.

Blake smirked and kissed Garnet on the back of his neck, “Don’t fade on us now sweetie,” She whispered softly. “I’m up next.”

Pressing a quick kiss to Garnet’s lips, Blake turned and moved further up the bed, giving her ass a little wiggle as she looked over her shoulder, a smirk on her lips despite the redness of her cheeks. “Well, Kitten? Come and get your present!”

Blushing, Garnet shifted onto the bed, carefully reaching out and rubbing one of his three mother’s rears through the silky lingerie, making the cat-eared woman arch her rear up, pressing the bountiful flesh into his hands. “That’s it, Kitten…”

Garnet took a deep breath, hooking his fingers into her lingerie bottoms and slowly pulling them down, swallowing roughly and cock twitching as the wide expanse of Blake’s rear was pulled more and more into view. As he pulled them down her thighs, he blushed as he saw how damp the insides were and how wet her core was.

“No need to blush, baby boy…” Yang whispered from the sidelines. “That’s what you do to us…” Weiss squeaked as Yang’s hand invaded her panties and rubbed her slick core, gathering her dew and rubbing it around her clit as they watched.

Blake licked her lips. “Let me do something real quick, baby…” arching her hips up and gently rubbing her soaked core over her son’s sixteen-inch cock, making sure it was nice and slick for what she imagined. Shifting again after a few moments, she let that massive cock slip between the cheeks of her ass. “There you go...now, do what you like to do to mommy’s butt.” she murmured, remembering the first morning they had done this like yesterday.

Slowly, Garnet began to grind his slick shaft between Blake's half-moons, his hands cupping and playing with the soft, jiggly flesh. Both moaned deeply as the moved with and against each other. "That's it, baby boy…" Blake moaned, "You can be rough...you know I don't mind…"

Garnet grunted as he began to move faster and harder against his mother's rear, squeezing the plump cheeks tenderly. He knew that this was basically only foreplay for the main event: fucking his mother’s ass. The smaller, hornier part of him screamed at him to ram it in already. And plunder his mother’s Bellabooty, but he ignored it, knowing the more he held back, the greater the reward would be.

After a few more minutes of rubbing his cock between the cheeks of Blake’s rear, Garnet finally lost his patience and pulled back, placing his tip against the small, dark pink pucker and beginning to press inwards.

Blake released a “Hnnnn…” as her rear started to be invaded, making herself relax and bear down, accepting her son’s long shaft inside her body, moaning as she felt him finally rest against her, hip to ass. “God, baby...have you somehow grown bigger?” she asked, rocking her hips and looking back at him, nibbling on her lower lip.

Garnet grinned slightly. “I will neither confirm nor deny that, mom.” he chuckled softly, savoring the tight heat that wrapped around every inch of his shaft, feeling some of Blake’s slick slide down his balls. “Relax, mom, I’m about to start…” he knew she wouldn’t relax, surprisingly, or perhaps not, Blake loved rough anal. Just like with Weiss and oral, it got the faunus beauty off harder than any other way he would usually fuck her.

True to Garnet’s thoughts, as he began to draw back, Blake tightened down as though not to let him leave. Pulling back until only his tip was till within her grasp, Garnet plunged down, getting a high-pitched “Mreow!” from the dark-haired faunus, cat ears twitching.

Garnet gave Blake a few moments before he began to pound into her, bringing his hips all the way back and then slamming them in, making a loud clap, clap, clap, as his hips met the older woman’s backside. Causing Blake to mewl and scream, burying herself into the pillow with a look of absolute joy on her face. Her toes curling tightly each time she felt his heavy balls slap against her sex.

“Wow, look at him go…” Yang whispered proudly, still fingering her white-haired partner. Weiss moaned, nodding as she watched Garnet’s hips slam into Blake’s backside repeatedly, turning the creamy white flesh a bright pink in a short time.

Garnet took steady breaths as he pounded back and forth into the inviting backside before him, feeling it quiver and ripple around him as Blake shuddered heavily, moaning helplessly as she came hard. “Cumming already, mom?” he asked, his tone breathless as he picked up speed, taking care not to tap into his semblance. He wanted to be able to talk to her later, after all. “Don’t worry...I am...too!” he groaned loudly, bucking his hips hard several times against Blake as he began to cum, large spurts of his backed up seed spraying into her rear.

Blake moaned as liquid heat filled her backside. “That’s it, Kitten…” she moaned; feeling herself reach an orgasm as well. Her pussy quivering as her juices flowed out. “Let it all out…” she squeezed her ass around him, getting a stilted gasp from her son as he humped against her, releasing more and more spurts of cum until he was just lazily rocking back and forth against her. “That’s it, baby…”

With a gulped sigh, Garnet slid out of his mother, his cock miraculously still hard despite being milked greedily by the ass slut. Falling back, his head rested against a pair of soft bosoms and looking up at a grinning Yang staring back down at him.

“You really laid into her, did ya?” She giggled, caressing his cheek as she looked at her twitching partner. “And you’re still hard despite it all.”

Seeing that the bed was getting a little crowded, Yang decided to pick up Garnet and transfer him to another bed. “Hope you don’t mind if I borrow your bed, Blake.”

The Faunus was so out of it, she could barely form a coherent sound. Weiss smiling comfortingly as she had the limp cat girl’s head resting in her lap.

Taking her friend’s moans as a yes, Yang plopped the somewhat spent boy on his back. Taking the time to rest his head against the pillow before ridding his of his pajama pants entirely. Garnet tried to speak, but a finger to his lips cut him off. “Shh~ Just sit back, and let Mama Yang take care of the rest.” She whispered, undoing the buckle to her robe and setting it aside before shrugging the outfit off of her.

There Garnet got to see his mother’s massive tits in all their glory. But instead of seeing a pair of pink-colored nipples exposed, they were covered in a pair of custom-made pasties. Designed to look like her son’s Burning Rose insignia, making the boy blushed deeply. “Not exactly festive for the holiday season. But I think it’s still meaningful nonetheless, don’t you agree?”

Garnet could only nod dumbly, his throat getting extremely dry from seeing the pasties being poked through by Yang’s erect nubs; showing him just how excited the woman was. Getting into position, Yang found herself face to face with the throbbing erection, covered in her friend’s and son’s saliva, cum and pussy juices. The smell was powerful, as it was intoxicating to the blonde. Unable to hold herself back; much like Weiss, she took the coated cock into her mouth. Happily cleaning off the mess that her friends had left behind in her wake. Until there was nothing but a nice sheen of her own saliva

Bobbing her head fervently up and down, she swirled her tongue along the underside of the girthy length. Yang may not have had a tight throat as Weiss, but by no means was she lacking in skill. And unlike the petite heiress, she had something that would help in satisfying her cute little boy. Garnet third present for the evening; Yang’s large and supple tits. The object of desires of men and women alike; many had dreamed and fantasized about smothering themselves in those stacked bosom. Yet none had ever come close to being successful.

Save for one lucky little boy, and his ‘not so little’ friend.

Wrapping her soft mounds around her son’s sex, Yang momentarily allowed herself to be amazed at the cock easily sticking out of her breasts. No matter how many times she saw, it still astonished her just how easily he was able to perform this feat. Smiling, she started the steady rhythm of rubbing her breasts up and down. The slickness from her spit allowing her plump mounds to glide with relative ease. Planting a soft teasing kiss on the tip, each time it would poke out from her breasts.

Garnet’s breath labored, hitching and panting from the soft pillows smothering his dick. It was truly one of the best things he had ever felt in his life, better than Blake’s ass or Weiss’ thighs. Though he would never truly say something like that out loud; he would never hear the end of it from all three of them. With a sound grunt, the cock twitched spastically, pre-leaking out from the tip in abundance.

Yang blinked at the sudden action, “Oh sweetie, already about to cum so soon?” She chuckled humorously, alternating up and down between breasts. “Guess our little gifts for you this evening was a little much for you.”

“Y-Yang. . .” The boy managed out.

“Shh, it’s okay honey.” She quickly lapped up some of the pre, “Go ahead and cum anytime you want to. Don’t hold back for Mama.”

The gentle cooing was enough to coax Garnet over the edge. Bucking his hips, his entire cock erupted like a volcano. Shooting out and showering Yang in his thick hot seed. Coating the woman’s face and chest white, and while some of it got into her hair. Yang ultimately didn’t mind, since it was her son doing this. Which said a lot given how much she loved caring for her precious hair. Soon, the stiff cock started softening, letting out weakened spurts. Yet even as it went limp between Yang’s tits, the cock was still big even to still poke out of her chest with ease.

‘This thing’s amazing, you have to say that much.’ Giggling, she licked the cum from her lips and anywhere she could reach. Running a finger above her brow to help her see. “I take you loved our little present, sweetie?”

Garnet could only gulp and nod; without a doubt, this had been one of the best presents he had received from his mothers ever since being adopted. And considering all they had done for him, that spoke volumes. Yang smiled, climbing onto the bed and snuggling up next to her son. Weiss and Blake, who managed to gather what little strength she had, managed to join the pair in bed; cuddling all around the boy. Feeling himself spent and beginning to drift off, a long day of playing, and fooling around with his mothers, finally catching up to him. He heard some parting words coming from a grinning Yang.

“Just wait, if you enjoyed this, you haven’t seen what we have in store for you on Christmas.”

Garnet simple blushed, excited for what awaited him, Christmas Eve.

#Garnet Rose #Weiss Schnee #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long #Team RWBY #Pollination #RWBY Smut #Milf!AU

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scavengerfive · 5 years ago

Text

Good Enough

I actually signed up for the Abel Secret Santa exchange which was nerve-wracking. Writing fiction about people you know is a bit weird, I know, but it’s all in good fun. I even got Sam to proofread it for me, but between him and me, it’s likely things are still a bit rough. Nonetheless, here it is.

I hope it’s something, @puzzle-of-many-pieces. Thanks for putting all of this together, @runnerzero and @notforconsumption. It takes place in some obscure limbo of season 1. I’m used to writing quiet, stoic, or shy Fives, so when Lyric said they headcanoned Five as vocal, Five ended up coming out as quirky and weird which was fun.

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!

---

“Looking good, Runner Five.”

“There he goes again. It’s really unfair. How come I can never get Sam to flirt with me? It makes a man feel a bit insecure.”

“W-what? I-I’m not flirting… I was just–Five is making good time, and there are no zombs close enough to worry about. That’s all I meant.”

“Sure, it is. So, how come you didn’t say, ‘Looking good, runners’?” There are three of us out here, you know.”

“Well-I–I mean–I didn’t forget–I just… shut up, Simon.”

“Hey, you know the rules. Numbers only.”

“You!? You want to talk about rules?”

Jody’s muffled giggles were clear over the commlink, and you too snickered to yourself as Sam’s voice hit a new octave. Simon never failed to wind Sam up. You didn’t mind the banter. It was better than the oppressive silence of another ghost town or a chorus of the undead making their rounds. Like Sam said, there were no zombs in the immediate vicinity, so you couldn’t hear any eerie moaning filling the air.

You couldn’t see the other two runners anymore, but you trusted them to take care of themselves. You would all meet up soon enough anyways. For now, you scanned the signs of the buildings you passed. Each runner had specific items to collect, things the township was running low on, but there was enough leeway for you to snag anything you thought would be handy or appreciated.

You found yourself stepping into an old convenience store. It had clearly been ransacked quite a few times, but there were always things people overlooked. You bagged a few expired painkillers and batteries, along with twine and deodorant (which was definitely needed). Your eyes alighted on a box behind the counter, and with a small smile, you shoved it into your bag before roaming the aisles, snagging a few more supplies. You knocked some books into the bag along with magazines, paper, and pens.

“All right, guys. It’s time to head back home. You’ve got everything you need?” Sam asked.

The commlink was filled with affirmatives, and as you jogged back towards Abel, you were joined by Jody then Simon, the two runners falling to your side. You flashed a quick smile to each of them.

“So, how was your luck?” Simon asked, an easy smile on his lips.

Jody grimaced.

“I got most of my stuff, but it’s really hard to find a working radio nowadays,” she said. “Found a broken one. It should be good for parts.”

“Five?”

You adjusted the bag on your back, squinting into the setting sun. You thought you could see the radio tower in the distance even though you should be too far off to spot it yet. It was most likely wistful imaginings.

“Good. You?”

“Janine should be pleased. I got her those wire strippers she’s always asking for. Plus, a few things for the Doc.”

Your headset crackled to life, and you heard Sam’s voice over the commlink again.

“I’ve spotted a few zombs in your path, but they should shamble on before you guys reach them. Keep an eye out though.”

“Got it, Sam,” Simon and Jody said at the same time, and Jody added, “Thanks.”

The three of you ran in comfortable silence, each keeping an eye out for any nasty surprises lurking. Soon enough, you could actually see the tower this time, the red beacon switched on even though there was still enough light to see your surroundings.

“So…”

Your eyes drifted over to look at Simon who had a mischievous smile growing on his face. You felt mild trepidation at the sight, but it was swiftly overpowered by a familiar excitement. You and Simon were dangerous together because you were too easily caught up in his recklessness. So, you were not the least bit surprised when the next two words came out of his mouth.

“Race ya?”

“Wait, what? Guys!” Jody yelled as you booked it after Simon’s cackling form.

“Keep up, Runner 4!”

“Not again, guys,” Sam groaned in your ears, and you grinned.

—

“You’ve really been keeping yourself busy, Five. I think you have your name down for every supply run we have coming up for the next month. All that on top of your regular missions? If you keep this up, Maxine might mandate a break for you, and I would agree with her.”

You were rifling through the sports equipment as Sam worried in your ears, something you were used to by now. You supposed some of these compression sleeves you were examining would be useful and bagged them. Extra protection. Circulation efficiency. Whoo!

“I’m fine, Sam. I won’t overdo it.”

“If you say so… what are you looking for anyways?”

“Cricket bat.”

“Why?”

“Request.”

“Ah…”

You moved into the next aisle, coming across some fishing gear and archery equipment. There were no rods left (understandably), but there were some string and a few hooks. You knew Janine would be eager to get her hands on anything useful, so you were quick to fill your pockets, snagging the hooks through your bag’s straps to secure them. There was little else of note but two plastic bows, a few arrows, and other archery equipment like sights and guards, which surprised you. You would have expected people to have taken everything, but you supposed archery wasn’t the most common skill. A bow and quiver of arrows would be an unnecessary burden if someone didn’t know how to use them.

You picked up a bow and plucked the string in thought.

Cr-clash!

A stand collapsed to the ground, and a zombie in a tattered shirt stumbled over it. It still had a name tag hanging off the torn fabric. The undead employee shambled towards you, arms out, and a moan whistling through its rotting jaw.

“Five! Is that a zombie I hear? Tell me it isn’t.”

“It isn’t,” you lied as you stumbled back, hand reaching out for something. D-mnit, you didn’t bring your bat because you wanted your hands free. The store was supposed to be cleared. You turned in time to see another zombie on the other end of the aisle, blocking your escape. Its groans joined the first. “It’s two zombies.”

“Aw, man… it should have been empty. Can you run out of there?”

“Not really.”

Your fingers closed around a smooth, narrow shaft, and with little hesitation, you notched the arrow and aimed at the first zombie which was closest, elbow high. One of your eyes squeezed shut, and the head of the arrow buried itself in the zombies forehead with a solid thud. With no pause, you grabbed another arrow, swung around, and got the second zombie through the eye just as its hand brushed your arm.

When it crumbled to the ground like the first, you waited a moment longer, just in case, before you let your stance drop. Your breathing was loud in your ears, and as you sought to calm your heart back down, your ears tuned back into Sam’s frantic voice.

“–VE! Answer me, d-mnit! What’s going on?! Are you all right?”

You blinked and let out a shaky breath. Slumped against the wall, you said, “I’m fine, Sam. I took care of them.”

“Thank G-d,” he breathed. “Don’t go quiet on me like that again. Not like that. I was worried.”

“Sorry, Sam. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better.”

The twitching of the zombies’ bodies stilled, and you gingerly padded over to the first one, planting a shoe on its jaw. Wrapping a hand around the arrow, you yanked it out with a nauseating squelch. The tip was red and wet, but you figured you could wipe it down easily enough. You retrieved the second one similarly. Honestly, this wasn’t the first time you found yourself thankful since the outbreak for that summer at camp. Even you couldn’t miss with targets that close.

You left the shop minutes later with the cricket bat you had come for and some other useful supplies but not before snagging a thin book off one of the shelves that caught your eye.

“I’m heading back, Sam.”

“Good. You owe me a Curly Wurly for my troubles.”

“Fine.”

—

“Runner Five, I thought I had ordered you to be taken off the roster for at least a week,” Maxine’s disapproving voice said through your headset.

You grimaced from where you were hunkered down behind a low wall at the edge of someone’s old yard. Dirt was working its way under your nails as your fingers burrowed into the wilted grass. The sound of the undead surrounding your hiding spot was almost deafening. You needed Sam right now, not a lecture.

“Now’s not the best time, doc,” you hissed into your mic, peeking over the faded bricks before ducking back down.

“You wouldn’t be in this situation if you had listened to me.”

“That’s fair but still not the time.”

“Maxie!” You could hear Sam’s muffled yell through the headset. There was a scuffling sound before his voice became much clearer. “How many times–Runner Five! What the h-ll?! I was only gone for three minutes. How did you end up surrounded by–what is it? At least, thirty zombies! Five!”

“Luck?”

He sighed, and a strained smile flashed across your face. You were certain that was a sigh reserved only for you.

“You’re giving me grey hairs, Five. I’m gonna get you out of there, and then we’re gonna have words.”

“Get me out, and you can have a whole dictionary.”

“Right. To your left, there’s a break between those two houses, the blue and green one. Head for it. You won’t be able to avoid catching some of the zombies’ attention, but you should be able to lose most of them if you are quick. Go. Now!”

You sprang up and made a dash for the gap Sam had pointed out. From the way the groans got even louder behind you, you knew you had been spotted. No worry. You’d dealt with worse. Compared to what you and Sara usually got up to, this was a holiday.

“Five, things aren’t looking pretty anymore. Change of plans. Can you get into that house right there? The one with the broken window. Yes, that one. In you go. Yup! Be careful. Don’t cut yourself.”

Your shoes crunched over the broken glass on the tiled floor as you levered yourself down from the sill. You peered around, hands tight around the handle of the bat you had collected from a garage before getting trapped in the neighborhood. You couldn’t be certain that there were no zombies waiting out of sight, ready to jump you if you let your guard down.

“If you can go out the front door, that street is a bit more deserted. It won’t be for long, so be quick.”

Your feet were nearly silent as you made your way out of the kitchen and into the living room, the room dim and musty. Expected when there was no one to dust. The smell of decay hit your nose, and you startled at the sight of a body on the couch.

Swinging around, you had your bat at the ready. It took a moment to register that the body’s head was caved in and slumped into the cushions. It didn’t look fresh. The blood had dried into a dark stain with clumps of hair in it. Someone else had already taken care of the zombie–if it had been one. Humans still killed humans despite the apocalypse.

“I don’t see you on my cameras, Five. What’s taking you so long? Your way out is getting more crowded by the second.”

“There’s a body. Dead.”

“Dead dead or about to bite you and make you one of them dead?”

“…dead dead.”

“One less thing to worry about… what is it, Maxine?” You heard a muffled voice. “What do you mean Five is supposed to be off running duty? Their name was… Five? What did you do?”

“Runner Six was feeling sick, so I covered for her.”

“Five…”

Your eyes perused the shelves out of habit, looking for anything an Abel resident might like. Wait…

You pulled down a DVD case and popped open the cover.

“Woah…”

“What is it?”

You snapped it shut, the plastic making a dull clicking sound. Looking back at the shelves, you grinned.

“Nothing. I’m coming out.”

You ran out into the horde a moment later and trusted Sam to get you home but not before a few more things made their home in your bag.

—

The gates rose before you, and you pedaled hard to clear them, riding under the spray of bullets that mowed down the zombies that had been on your tail. Residents looked up as you came to a smooth stop, a wild grin on your face that only died a little when you saw Maxine waiting for you with her arms crossed.

You held up your hands and waited for the klaxon of the lowering gate to go quiet.

“I swear, this time, I meant to help out in the kitchen, but Janine asked for me personally. I couldn’t say no, could I?”

“You could have, and you will,” Maxine said. “The guards have been informed that you’re not allowed to leave Abel for the next week, so don’t expect anyone to raise the gates for you–even if your name is on the roster.”

“Aw… Maxine…”

“Five.”

“I’m an Abel runner and an able runner,” you said, grinning when Maxine groaned. “If I can run, shouldn’t I?”

“If you overdo it, you won’t be able to run when we need you to.”

She frowned when you snickered at her unintentional pun. You sobered up (sans a small pout) and nodded.

“Fine. Doctor’s orders are doctor’s orders,“ you ceded, climbing off the bike. "I’ll be by the clinic for my bite check in a second. I just need to drop some things off. Scout’s honour.”

“I’m certain you’ve never been a scout.”

“Fine… runner’s honour.”

“You have honour now?”

You mock gasped as you walked away then went in search of Runner 16. You figured the bike was too big to hide, and too many people had seen you ride in on it, so you might as well deliver it to the runner now. The back tire was a bit flat, but it got you home safely. You were certain the runner would be able to fix it up, no problem.

Now, Sixteen didn’t cry per se, but you were certain his eyes looked a little misty as you passed him the bike. You awkwardly waved off his effusive gratitude and made an escape to your room that barely had any space left in it, digging through your supply bag and tossing some things onto your bed, which was about the only free space left at this point. The more people trusted a runner, the less likely their bag was taken from them the moment they got back to Abel and all the supplies stored away.

You had managed to get about the last few things you were looking for before Maxine took you off rotation. There was more you could have gotten, but this should suffice. Thankfully, no one checked the rooms regularly, or you would have gotten in trouble by now. It was worth it though. This was the best way you knew to express what you didn’t know how to in words.

You took the rest of the mostly full bag and stepped out of the cramped room. On the wall next to your “door”, where you had first missed it, a small, hand-written note was stuck to the wood. You peeled it off. At closer inspection, you realized it was a flyer for this year’s holiday party, hosted by Jack and Eugene. You’ve heard stories about past ones. You were almost surprised Janine would allow it (if the men indeed asked her permission), but you also knew she knew the importance of keeping up morale. She would most definitely regret it by the end of the night though.

Tucking the slip of paper away into your pocket, you adjusted the bag on your shoulders and jogged out of the runners’ quarters. You made sure to drop off the rest of the collected supplies and made a quick detour to the comm shack to return your headset. Then, you went to the clinic where Maxine was waiting for you.

—

Despite your best efforts, you did not manage to sneak out of the township for a run again. It was a long shot, but you tried anyways. The guards, however, were not willing to risk Maxine’s wrath, not when she had reign over the good stuff, like aspirin and plasters, so you were stuck helping out around the township. You took a shift in the kitchen almost every day and volunteered to read to the children at the school where they were working their way through the Harry Potter series.

Around the township, you could see the oncoming holiday season due to the collective efforts of Abel’s residents. There were festive decorations, found or made, hung up on or tacked onto different buildings. There was even a tree in the quad, small but brightly decorated. Simon had brought it in.

You breathed into your hands, having forgotten to wear your threadbare gloves before you started making your way to the clinic to help Maxine. There had been an accident with one of the construction efforts. No one was killed, but there were a few injuries that Maxine needed a few extra hands on. You liked to be useful. Plus, you hoped, if you put yourself in the good graces of everyone, you might be forgiven if you got caught tonight.

—

It was moments like this you wished you had an operator in your ear, preferably Sam, but you knew he would talk you out of this or get you both caught. You wouldn’t want to get him in trouble. Plus, he would probably spill everything.

It was risky being out past curfew. The consequences were severe because Janine and the Major enforced them, but it was also the best time to act if you wanted your plan to be a success. The only downside was that you had to keep making trips back to your room because everything was too much to carry at once. Each dash back to the runners’ quarters increased your chances of getting caught, but it was unavoidable. You were surprised you made it this far anyways. The apocalypse had trained everyone to be light sleepers, and you found yourself blending into shadows more often than not when a groggy individual swung first, opened their eyes later.

“Hey! Who’s there? Joe!”

You threw yourself down behind a woodpile as torchlight shone where you were just moments ago. With your back pressed against the wood, splinters embedding themselves into the fabric of your coat, you held your breath.

“I didn’t see anything, Pete.”

“I was certain… never mind. No one would be stupid enough to be out here now anyways.”

You bet your -rse there’d be someone stupid enough. Case in point: you. You smothered your anxious snicker before you could give yourself away.

Waiting with bated breath for the light to move on, you still waited moments more before you risked moving. You had only one more delivery to make anyways, but it would certainly be the riskiest, which is why you saved it for last.

The wall of Janine’s farmhouse loomed over you, and you questioned your sanity once more. You must be insane for even considering breaking into Janine’s home, let alone actually doing it, but here you were, pushing open a window you had made sure was unlocked earlier when you visited to drop of some files. You weren’t going to try anything fancy like getting into her room. You were stupid, not suicidal. The counter should do.

When you got the window open wide enough, you bent down to pick up the items you placed on the ground after you managed not to drop them on your way over. You straightened up…

Click.

…only to be face to face with the barrel of a rifle.

Sh-t.

“Runner Five, I do hope you have authorization to be out past curfew. Though, where you would have gotten that authorization, I don’t know, since I’m the only one who can grant it.”

“…Happy Christmas?” you squeaked, holding up your gifts with a shaky smile.

—

It smelled like death. You were ready to die. Your muscles shook as you hefted another shovelful of semi-frozen sh-t to add to the growing pile of semi-frozen sh-t in the wheelbarrow before driving the shovel back into the earth.

Latrine duty. You supposed it could have been worse. Janine could have been shot you or exiled you, or worse, taken you off running duty permanently. You shuddered at the thought then scratched your nose through the handkerchief that did little to block out the smell. At least, it wasn’t as bad as it was in the summer when the rain made it all wet and the sun made it smell to high heaven. As winter settled in, it only really hit you when you were ankle deep in it. You just hoped you wouldn’t smell like sh-t at the party tonight.

The intercom announced that it was time for breakfast right when your stomach growled, and you shucked the shovel to the side, peeling off and folding the work gloves before placing them on the shelf. You pulled on the new gloves you had traded a screwdriver for because it was getting too for your old ones to do any good. You would come back after you’ve eaten. You’ve been working since sunrise and deserved a break.

As you walked through Abel, towards the kitchen, you took a moment to observe the residents moving about around you. You could see lil’ Molly, walking hand-in-hand with Ed, clutching her old bunny which now bore a red knit hat and scarf. The tot fussed with it then babbled excitedly at her dad. They passed by Runner 16 who was standing with his new bike, gesturing wildly as he spoke with a big smile to Runner Six who was clutching a blue notebook and pen.

You hid a smile and joined the food queue to wait for your ration, listening to the conversations around you.

“I just woke up and found a Cluedo box in my room. Unopened. Do you know how rare that is? I don’t know…”

“…a Bible. A little worn and marked up, but it’s not missing any pages. When I saw it, I just started crying…”

“…new boots and pants. I’m almost embarrassed to ask who knew I needed…”

“It was only a pack, but I had just about forgotten what gum tastes like. You want one? I have…”

“…loose tea. I can finally have a decent cuppa. Just because the world ended…”

“Five?”

Your head jerked up, and you realized you were at the front of the queue. Some people were giving you weird or impatient looks, but you just grabbed a tray and worked your way down the table. There was a rare offering of hot chocolate at the end, and you took a cup. You wondered how the kitchen got their hands on hot chocolate mix and smirked to yourself as you inhaled the rich scent in the steam.

“Five! Over here!”

Sam waved widely at you from his spot at a table, his smile big under a red tinged nose. An orange knit hat shoved his bangs down over his eyes, and he brushed them aside to beam at you as you walked over to where he was sitting with Jody and Simon. Jody was hunched over yarn and knitting needles, having chosen to brave the cold it seemed rather than wear gloves that would hinder her work, while Simon seemed intent on inhaling his meal with no room for coming up for air.

“Five!” Sam exclaimed as you sat across from him. He was clutching a DVD case to his chest. “You wouldn’t believe it! An actually copy of Toy Story. No one’s been able to find one since the outbreak. It’s unbelievable. When I went to the comms shack this morning to check the equipment, the case was just laying on my desk–along with a jar of Marmite and a bat. Can you believe it?”

“Yeah,” Simon said between mouthfuls (or rather, with a mouthful). “I found a football in my room. Don’t know how it got there. It certainly wasn’t there when I turned in.”

Jody flashed him a disgusted look at his lack of table manners before she beamed at you.

“It looks like Abel’s got itself a Secret Santa. They got me yarn and needles, wool, a strander… just about everything I needed to keep knitting.”

“And a bow and arrows,” Sam added. "Which is–majorly cool.”

“Yeah,” Jody said with a blush. “I guess they must have heard me on Radio Abel. It’s sweet. They even got me a book on how to make my own supplies.”

You saw Janine queue up with Sara over Sam’s shoulder. The two women were conversing, and when one looked at you, the other turned too. Janine had a glare that you would swear was not as harsh as usual while Sara cocked a brow at you. You could see she was carrying a familiar, hardcover book.

You tried not to wheeze. She knew, didn’t she?

“Did you get anything, Five?” Sam asked.

“Huh?” you gasped, looking back at him. “Oh… I got new socks and these gloves,” you said, holding up your hands and wiggling your fingers. “Warm and cozy.”

“Do you think they’ll come out?”

“Who?”

“The Secret Santa.”

“I think if they had wanted credit, they wouldn’t have gone through so much trouble to avoid getting found out,” you said, sipping your hot chocolate when Sam squinted at you.

“I just don’t get how they did it,” Jody said.

“They’ve got to be a runner. Or working with one,” said Simon.

“No, that’s obvious. I meant how they delivered everything. What about curfew?”

“Maybe they got permission from Janine or got a guard to help them.”

“Or maybe they just didn’t get caught,” Sam added, an amused smile on his face as he shot a look at you.

Hah! You sipped your hot chocolate aggressively and almost choked as it burned your throat. You didn’t need this type of irony or suspicion in your life right now.

“And thank G-d for the hot chocolate.”

“Are you all going to the party later? If I heard correctly, Jack and Eugene got their hands on some booze, and I, for one, am thirsty,” said Simon.

“When aren’t you?”

Simon shot a glare at Jody then you for snickering.

“I should be back from my run on time,” Jody said. “Are you still grounded, Five?”

“Haha… yes…” You huffed. “Which means I’ll be around for it at least.”

“I’ve got a shift at the clinic today, so I’m free tonight,” Simon said.

The intercom came to life over their heads, calling all runners on duty today to retrieve their headsets and report to the gates for briefing.

“That’s my cue as well,” Sam said as Jody packed away her knitting.

“See ya, guys,” Jody said.

The two took their empty trays with them as you and Simon bid them good luck. You turned your focus to the rest of your meal, wanting to eat it all before it got too cold.

“So, did you get permission from Janine?”

“For what?” you asked around a banger halfway in your mouth.

“To sneak around past curfew.”

“…I don’t know what you mean. Oh, look at the time, I have to get back to latrine duty. See ya, Simon.”

Smooth.

—

“And let us make a toast to the Secret Santa that brought a little more needed cheer to our dreary existence this year!”

“Jack!”

“What? It’s true.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to say it. To our very Secret Santa who we are all very thankful for.”

The room cheered while Jack bickered back at Eugene. Jody accepted a cup from Simon and shifted over to let him sit.

“So, when are we going to tell Five that pretty much everyone knows it was them?” Simon asked.

Ed, who was nearby, snorted, and the two runners chuckled. They could see you by the wall with Sam, the two of you watching Jack and Eugene drunkenly joke off. You were clearly trying to hide a smile in your sleeve.

“What did Five get you, Ed?” Jody asked.

“Some old driving games,” Ed said over his cup. “I missed playing them. And they got Molly a hat and scarf for her rabbit. She adores them.”

“I don’t think we should tell them,” Jody decided.

“Why is that?” Simon asked.

“They clearly went through so much trouble to keep it a secret. I don’t think they’d want the attention.”

They saw you look up when Sam leaned over to say something to you, and you started sputtering, gesturing wildly in what looked like denial.

“So, what? We say nothing?”

“I know, the idea is new to you,” Jody teased, grinning at Simon’s offense, “but yeah. We all know. That’s good enough. Let’s let them think they got away with it.”

“All right. Here’s to ‘Secret’ Santas,” Simon said, raising his cup.

“And oblivious Fives.”

"I’ll drink to that,” Ed said.

“Hear, hear,” crowed those around them.

Jody snickered when the commotion caught your attention from across the room, but she wasn’t too worried. You weren’t the most perceptive, but, at least, your heart was always in the right place. She figured that was good enough.

65 notes · View notes

bugheadfamily · 5 years ago

Photo

🎶 They're creepy and they're kooky

Mysterious and spooky

They're all together ooky

The Bughead family

Their fic is for the season

When people come to read 'em

They really are a scream

The Bughead family 🎶

Happy Halloween, Buggies! We gladly feast on these mysterious and spooky fics. Below you’ll find a mix of supernatural, horror, dark, and seasonal type fics with Halloween specific ones (marked with a 🎃). Curl up in your favorite costume, pull out the treats, and get your Halloween fic fix here below the cut!

🎃 10.31.17 by @jugandbettsdetectiveagency | T

On that night, when the veil is at its thinnest, he finds his way home.

🎃 A Kiss That Thrills by @lilibetts | E

On Halloween, college students Betty and Jughead go through a Haunted House and finally act on their respective crushes.

And the Ash Shall Rise by @likemereckless | M

Riverdale is actually Purgatory (why else would so many crazy things happen in one town!) Jughead Jones, Shadowman of purgatory level one has been tasked with finding an Awakened soul, one who the Premier Shadowman says jeopardizes the future of their world. When Jughead discovers Betty Cooper’s soul down by the River Styx he finds all is not as it seems and a final battle between Heaven and Hell is on the verge of breakout. *It’s Purgatory so ALL characters are dead. *You will find out how they died. *Get ready for a ride!

🎃 Be More Chill by @literatiruinedme | M

Betty and Jughead run into each other in the bathroom at the annual Blossom Halloween party.

body talks by @justcourbeau | NR

Instead of late morning light being his wake up call, Jughead was woken by the horrendous chirp of an alarm clock going off, and, really, that should have been the first sign that something was wrong.

Cooper’s Monsters by @cooperandjonesinc | M

In the darkened halls of an abandoned mental hospital Dr. Hal Cooper has been making monsters.Betty, oblivious to her father’s machinations, comes across a horrifying creature. Together can they stop the doctor and free the others?

Curl of Ash by @darknessaroundus | T

Jughead attempts to save a strangers life in Queens one night. Nothing is what it appears to be.

Darkside by @exmachina187, @itsmarscosta | E

Jughead has had centuries to reflect on his life, but none of it had meaning until she came along.

Dear Angel series by @tory-b | M/E

🎃 Dirty Devil by @thesecretfandom | E

Betty and Jughead are celebrating Halloween, but their costumes seem to be interfering with their fun.

Dust & Desire by @darknessaroundus | T

They have a rhythm to their days, the result of having very little company but each other for years now. When Betty wakes from the nap, they eat mac and cheese before they go hunting. A Vampire Slayer AU.

erase & rewind by @sopaloma | M

When a powerful storm hits Riverdale, five students are hit by lightning as they leave school. The result of that storm will change their lives forever, in ways they never could have imagined. A Misfits AU.

Ever Since We Met by @lilibetts | M

It's almost All Hallow's Eve and witch!Betty has a broomstick breakdown. She lands near werewolf!Jughead's bar and he helps her out...by giving her another broom to ride.

🎃 go home people (the party’s not over) by @grilledcheesusyouredelic | T

“It was your dad’s idea,” Betty chirped. “He told my mom that if people were going to stare at us she may as well make it worth her while.” Jughead bit back a sigh. “And she said ‘like what, throw a party’? And he said ‘sure, Alice, the perfect holiday is coming up’.”

🎃 Howling by @lovedinapastlife | T

Jughead’s working a shift at the Blossom haunted house when he spots a familiar blonde ponytail and decides to try and give her a scare. He ends up smashed in the face, real blood added to his costume. Horrified, Betty tries to make it up to him. She’s nervous to finish the house by herself, so Jughead offers to let her work on a few scenes and scares with him until Archie comes back from his break. There’s nothing quite like method acting with a childhood crush and best friend when hearts are pounding and limbs are entangled in a ravenous display. Something’s building inside of them, a low, penetrating howl.

🎃 I Don’t Have a Lot of Friends by @typing123 | M

Joker Jughead and Harley Betty meet at a Halloween Party. It’s definitely a treat.

Interview with the Coopers by @typing123 | E

What a perfect little family they make

🎃 It’s A Great Pumpkin, Jughead Jones by @alisoncollis | NR

Jughead and Betty go to a pumpkin patch.

i will hang on the hook of your splendour by @jughead-jones/@stark | G

“We have to go up to Woodland House tomorrow,” Betty said, hopping out of the back of the van the night before, dressed in something that she called summer sleepwear and Jughead deemed to be sweet torture. “There has to be a clue there about these abductions.”Mystery Inc AU

Jug the Ripper by @lovedinapastlife @theheavycrown | NR

Murder kink isn’t on the menu—not really. But he’ll do anything for his beloved.

🎃 Let the Right One In by @yavannie | T

When Jellybean talks Jughead into going to a Halloween-themed birthday party in Greendale, she does such a good job on his make-up that not even his best friend can tell it’s him.

🎃 love is kinda crazy (with a spooky little girl like you) by @whaticameherefor | G

Jughead always thought that falling in love would feel like a punch to the gut. It didn’t, of course. It was more like a punch to the face. Right in the nose, to be exact.

🎃 Movie Night on Elm Street by @bettsc | NR

Jughead Jones finds himself at the Cooper household on Halloween night, and it’s not just the scary movies that are giving him goosebumps.

🎃 No Guts No Glory by @thesecretfandom | E

Jughead may have taken their pumpkin carving competition a bit too far, and now it’s Betty’s job to get the both of them cleaned up.

🎃 Nobody Knows You Now by @bettsc | M

They moved like this for what seemed like hours; neither one relenting to the other; both losing themselves in the intertwining of two souls.

🎃 october 2017 by @elizabethbettscooper | G

“Jug, you’re home!” she glanced up, grinning at him. He nudged off his shoes and started towards her.

“So it seems.” he said, smirking and dropped onto the floor beside her. “What’s up, Betts?”

“Do you have plans tomorrow? I want to go to the pumpkin patch.”

“The… pumpkin patch.” Jughead raised an eyebrow and put his arm across the sofa seat, leaning in to look at Betty’s planner.

Outbreak by @moon--mama | T

The breakdown only took 36 hours.

🎃 Over the Wall by @typing123 | T

The Over the Garden Wall AU nobody asked for.

🎃 Pumpkin Spice (and all things nice) by @itsindiansummer13 | G

Jughead, Betty, and Halloween through the years.

Seek Forbidden Things by @maeve-of-winter | T

Kevin Keller has gone missing from Riverdale, and it’s up to Betty and the rest of the gang to bring him back.

🎃 Self control by @bettyscooperr | NR

Jughead just really hates Halloween

Spirits, Are You There? by @jugandbettsdetectiveagency | T

An abandoned asylum, plus a ouija board, plus Cheryl Blossom? The perfect potion.

Strange and Unusual by @lovedinapastlife | M

AU loosely based on the film Beetlejuice - where a ravenous ghoul and a shrewd teen make a strange and unusual alliance that goes far deeper than convenience.

strange days by @sopaloma | T

His sister is missing, his dad is talking to Christmas lights and Betty Cooper needs his help. November 1983 is a strange time for Jughead Jones. A Stranger Things AU.

Taboo. by anonymous | NR

Death becomes her.

The Beast Within series by @cooperjones2020 | M/E

He likes to watch her sleep.

🎃 the business of being dead (and the curse of virginity) by @thetaoofbetty | M

🎃 The Cooper House by @satelliteinasupernova | T

“Let’s go to a haunted house, Jughead,” Jellybean had said. “It’ll be fun,” she said.

Except, now he was turned around somewhere in a dark hallway; alone. With no source of light nearby, he could barely make out his surroundings. Tentatively, he reached out to use the wall to guide him, taking one step at a time. The surface of the wall was uneven and with each step he felt another notch as his hand moved across one panel of wood to the next. The floor creaked softly under his feet. Here in the dark, it was unnervingly quiet. The only other sound he could hear was of the wind passing through the trees outside the house.

“Hey, JB?” he called out. “Where the hell did you go?”

🎃 The First Halloween Since by @typing123 | G

Single Mom Betty doesn’t think she can face Halloween this year. She just wants a quiet night in with her daughter. Jughead’s not so sure.

THE HOUSE IS NOT HAUNTED by @satelliteinasupernova | T

“For the hundredth time, the house is not haunted,” said Gladys Jones as she lifted another box from the U-haul to carry into the house. “Now, go help your brother carry your things to your bedroom.”

JB huffed, and marched over to Jughead, reaching for her box of vinyl records, “How else did we get this place so cheap? You know it’s because that girl disappeared here.”

Silently, Jughead agreed with her, but he was getting tired of the argument. He knew JB wasn’t bringing this up to stop them from moving into the new house, she just wanted their mom to admit that was the reason they could even afford it. Gladys Jones wasn’t one to own up to her own methods, much less admit weakness.

The Hunger by @mistressofmalplaquet | M

Betty is being slowly starved at the Farm, while Jughead is hungry for blood. Hunger and seductive Blood Lust leads the pair into a swirl of terror, torture, and an inescapable dark fate.

🎃 The Jack-O-Gram by @noorakardemmomesaetre | T

The Jack-O-Gram has become the perfect way for Riverdale High students to express their feelings for someone special before the Halloween Banshee Bash at the end of the week.

Betty can't help but hope she receives one from the only boy who's ever captured her heart, Jughead Jones.

the key to (harm)ony by @lovedinapastlife | E

Everything else falls away, even her mother, sister, and Geraldine, when he steps towards her, untethered and confident with the grace of a circulating fountain. Up close, his eyes are blue - brilliant and deep like Sweetwater River, just on the verge of a knowing wink. His long spider-leg lashes flutter as he exhales in a hum of satisfaction, and the longer she looks at him the more it feels like she’s in the tub, water rising up over her chin until she can’t breathe.

“Hello, Betty,” he says with a soft, secret smile, and her heart rattles.

~~~

Betty resents her drunken mother's attempt to replace the recently deceased Charles with a stranger, his enigmatic half-brother Jughead. It's almost like he's waiting for the right moment to please her, to slink into her latest mystery and submerge her in something foreign: Freedom.

🎃 The Mouse by @typing123 | G

A hungry Jughead is lured into the woods on Halloween by a hungry vampire.

🎃 The One That I Want by @dreamersshouldknowbetter | T

Betty and Jughead meet at a Halloween party where they accidentally form two halves of a couples costume

the strange death of Elizabeth Cooper by @wolfofansbach | T

Betty Cooper, after a long struggle with illness, has passed away. Except–she hasn’t, because against all rhyme and reason, she awakens on the coroner’s slab, hale and healthy. The illness is gone, and she couldn’t be in better condition, to the weeping relief of her friends and family, not least of all her longtime boyfriend, Jughead Jones. No real explanation is forthcoming, but what does it really matter, when Betty is alive? And he can discount the occasional oddity in her behavior. She’s been through a lot, after all. Except, as the days go by and the strange happenings pile on, Jughead begins to suspect that whatever it is that crawled out of the grave that day isn’t really Betty Cooper.

🎃 the unexpected perks of being a pumpkin by @thetaoofbetty | M

Jughead Jones has a damn good Halloween.

🎃 Things that Go Bump in the Night by @createandconstruct | T

Are sometimes things that also squeal…

Thrill Me, Chill Me, Fulfill Me by @ms-maj | T

The gang does Rocky Horror.

Time Honoured Tradition by @jugandbettsdetectiveagency | T

When Cheryl dares Betty to spend some time in the abandoned house across the street she gets a little more than she bargained for.

What Happened on Elm Street by @tory-b | M

When Jughead Jones moves to Riverdale with his family, he uncovers a few mysteries this simple small town has been trying to cover up–specifically the murder that occurred in his house during the late 1950s that was never properly solved. Unable to keep his curiosity away, he teams up with neighbor and fellow mystery lover Betty Cooper to uncover the truth.

🎃 what we pretend to be by @sylwrites | G

It’s his little sister’s first Halloween, but his parents don’t have money for a costume or the time to take her trick-or-treating. The answer to both of these problems comes in the form of his best friend’s neighbour.

🎃 What’s Your Favourite Scary Movie? by @gellsbellshead | T

Betty Cooper doesn’t do scary movies. However maybe she could be persuaded by some cuddling from her boyfriend Jughead. This is a continuation of the fic “Movie Night”

🎃 when things go bump and grind at night by @rainystripe | M

Betty dresses up and Jughead is her slave.

Wild Creatures by @lilibetts | E

Neither Betty Cooper or Jughead Jones were particularly hopeful about their soulmarks; the inky black First Words seemed custom built for their hole-hearted selves. But with a mysterious game ensnaring students on campus, and killing some, it was a question of whether they would learn to work together before them being at cross-purposes destroyed everything.

🎃 Wish Fulfillment by @lilibetts | T

On Halloween, the core four meet up to go Trick-or-Treating, only to find themselves turning into their costumes. Revelations are had for Jughead and Betty.

🎃 won’t you tell me what you’re thinking of? by @flwrpotts | G

Betty enlists Jughead, Reggie, and Archie to help her set up for the annual Riverdale middle school Halloween dance.

Still haven’t satisfied your itch for Halloween fics? Check out our fanfic tag on @riverdale-events! Our Halloween event, Tricks and Treats of Riverdale, is going on and you can find fics posted exclusively to Tumblr there!

#bughead #betty x jughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead fanfic #bughead fic rec #riverdale #betty cooper #jughead jones #halloween #fanfic #fic rec #masterlist #*admin #tricksandtreatsofriverdale #riverdaleevents

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minaa-munch · 5 years ago

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Writing Prompt: Minato's feelings on being abandoned by Jiraiya for the Ame orphans

The conclusion of October would usually witness the first, biting winds of winter; complete with frost-tipped promises borne of the dying breaths of autumn. Thick clouds settled against the horizon, akin to the wide strokes of an ink brush, whereas the leaves that had withdrawn into their golden-brown shells offered a most satisfying crunch against the brick laden path.

This particular night was privy to the first ever flurries that heralded a less hostile season as opposed to the year before - or maybe that was just the idea being favored by an all too eager populace. The war had ended recently, you see, and in Konoha’s favor too. It had been the first decided victory in three years. Shinobi who had been stationed in the various outposts littering the borders of Hi no Kuni had been called back amidst cheers and laurels; and a mass funeral arranged for those that had hardly been as lucky.

Still, there was little that could damper their high spirits, as the sacrifices of their shinobi had been worth it. The taverns and tea houses were packed, as were the multiple restaurants that had managed to open their doors after years of no-service due to a lack of guests. Konoha was a shinobi village, after all, with an alarmingly low civilian population who were nothing but loyal to the cause.

Besides, it was more fun this way. The air, although crisp with cold, was alive with a different sort of energy altogether; ripe with hearty laughter and the familiar clack of sandal-clad footfalls against narrow pathways. The scent of mixed spices and ground herbs drifted tantalizingly from the open food inns - all was well, and promised nothing but well for a long time.

Unless if you asked him, of course.

“…what about Jiraiya sensei?”

Hazel hues met his own and he felt his stomach drop. There was no way that the Gama Sage had fallen in battle while his teammates were alive and well - Jiraiya was much stronger than that, he had contingencies for practically every sce–

“He decided to stay back to help the community.” Tsunade’s dry words cut his inner ramblings short, and he found himself blinking owlishly; almost stupidly, as if deciphering everyday language was a foreign concept.

Huh?

Cue a dismissive wave of calloused fingers, “Something about a child of destiny and how he needed to train the orphans for some prophecy a toad told him.” She added nonchalantly, before raising an eyebrow at his frozen features.

“Oi.” The kunoichi cocked her head for a brief moment. Light hues narrowed, somewhat annoyed at the lack of response and she flicked his forehead with enough strength to cause a migraine, if not a nasty bruise.

“Did you even hear me, gaki?”

“Oh”

“What do you mean, oh?”

Tan digits curled around the tiny porcelain cup at the memory, the sake having lost its warmth a while ago. The sounds of clinking dishes and jovial conversation practically reeking of camaraderie were a mere echo caressing the fringes of the blond’s subconscious. Instead, blue hues stared at the shimmering surface of his cup; dim lamp light reflecting precariously against his fleeting thoughts which were ironically, far from Konoha.

To an onlooker, he may very well have been part of the furniture; a brooding little blond storm cloud clad in the standard chunin flak jacket, blue uniform still dirty from his time spent at the training field earlier. His hitai-ate was wrapped around his upper arm instead of his head, and only because Inoichi had been a downright pain when he had refused the peach yukata the Yamanaka had flashed his way.

That had been a few hours ago. The Namikaze however, was still stuck on last week - Jiraiya sensei, or lack thereof, to be exact.

To be fair, he should have expected as much; his sensei had always fostered a kind heart; much more so as compared to his teammates. It should come as no surprise that he would go out on a limb to help people he owed nothing to - and they were orphans to boot, so…

…

Kami, what was wrong with him? Cue a light frown before the cup was raised and promptly downed in a single breath.

He wasn’t jealous of war orphans, was he? Amegakure was - quite honestly - in complete ruin because of Konoha’s war strategies. Not to say that they hadn’t suffered their fair share of losses likewise, since the only ones to return had been the newly dubbed ‘Sanin’.

Regardless, their deficit in numbers was nothing compared to the number of civilian deaths and the anarchy that had taken control of the volatile little nation. At least Konoha had the opportunity to lick its wounds and build a-new, whereas Ame would probably never be the same again.

And then there was the child of prophecy business. The thought prompted a distasteful flicker towards the ceramic bottle on his table; gaze lingering for a brief moment before calloused fingers tipped the container to his cup for a refill. He wasn’t exactly prone towards alcohol, since the mind-numbing buzz that usually followed made him feel slower than usual, but at the moment, he couldn’t care less—

—because at the moment, he couldn’t help but feel that his sensei’s ramblings about the child of prophecy were a little silly - perhaps just a tad bit irresponsible, maybe even a little illogical?

Or maybe, at the moment, he was feeling just a little jealous that he wasn’t worth the newly dubbed sanin’s attention, now that he wasn’t the blasted child of prophecy.

Maybe, for all his wisdom, his sensei had failed to realize just how highly his first student thought of him; almost like a father because Kami forsake it all, he had never had one.

“I’m telling you, you’re special!”

“What makes you think that?”

“Apart from you beating the old man’s record?” Cue a hearty laugh before the man leaned closer, almost conspiratorially so, his large form enveloping the slip of a boy in its shadow, “Well there’s this prophecy, you see…”

Pause. His brow twitched at the treacherous thought; blue hues wide for a painstaking, raw moment, before faltering to a shuddering close.

Had he always been this selfish? He couldn’t - wouldn’t - hold the man responsible. Jiraiya had never asked to be put on such a pedestal; in fact, his tutelage was till the genin entrusted to him were promoted to chunin. Since Minato had done just that before Konoha had been pushed into the throes of war, he had no right to complain.

The man had taught him all he needed to know. He was a chunin now, his duties and loyalties were owed to the village, not Jiraiya.

No, definitely not Jiraiya. The very thought made him feel sick, and he found himself bracing his hands against the table; there was nothing jovial about the evening (for him, at least) and maybe he needed to haunt another training field because he really needed to do something about that twitch in his fingers—

“Another round, on me?” Cue a welcome interruption as a loosely clothed arm found his shoulder; Inoichi was all wide eyes and an all-too-charming-borderline-drunk smile, “Ne, chichu-e told me that your name was being circulated around the council for a Jōnin promotion” He rambled, and shook the other blond lightly as he did, nearly upsetting the pitcher on the table, “Isn’t that neat? You’ll be the first Jōnin in our entire batch!”

“Oh.”

“What do you mean oh? This guy, I swear.” Cue an onslaught of drunken grumbling which tugged a minuscule, bitter smile from his previously emotionless facade.

Jōnin eh?

They were soon joined by the rest of their rag-tag group of chunin, amidst a round of good cheer and generously poured sake - it was a wonder they didn’t break anything. It didn’t take long for Inoichi to grab the lone bottle of sake in front of them and climb up on the table, brandishing the ceramic like a trophy.

“To Konoha!” Came a rousing yell from the Yamanaka, one that invited the rest of the tavern occupants to raise their cups for the toast, “May the will of fire keep burning forever!”

This prompted another round of boisterous cheers and the occasional hooting. Minato raised his cup too, dim light painting blue orbs in an dull, amber hue, as they stared listlessly ahead.

Here’s to you, sensei. I hope you’re well.

P.s. I follow this timeline.

#Namikaze Minato #headcanon #Jiraiya sensei #Ame orphans #thanks blondie ^^#I do enjoy angst #golden boy? what golden boy #he's human #also I made that gif :D #...which would explain why its broken #TT_TT #senjutsunade #Jiraiya

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