#unfortunately when my friend comes over on saturday there's probably not gonna be any sucking bc i also have to keep an eye on my dogs

[kinglypup]

fucking HELLO that audio. I want to make you make those noises for the love of god please ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I need to suck tdick SO bad it’s not even fair - 🌊 (still using this so I don’t have to type out my url every time)

aaahh it wouldnt be hard to make me make those noises, im a whimpery kinda guy ;) i also need to suck tdick so bad but also i need my dick sucked so bad im Crazy

[atlabeth]

fever - sokka x reader

this has been sitting in my drafts half finished for 3 weeks so i thot it was prime time i actually finished it

this is kinda based off the song w dua lipa and angele so you can listen to that if you want

summary: sokka's convinced there's a mystery illness keeping you from focusing, but somehow he's completely oblivious that the only 'sick' you are is lovesick, and he's the reason you can't focus.

a/n: i have never written a sickfic. but this is like. a fake sick fic. its an idiots in love fic. i mean this is coming from mr "is he taller than me? is he better looking?" himself so. it makes sense. as usual, this is not proofread bc im a lazy mf

also im sorry for being vague with the calc but i was NOT about to do math during summer who do you think i am? ??

wc: 1.7k

warning(s): mentions of being sick and 🤢calculus 🤮 but otherwise tooth rotting fluff

-

How could the smartest man you knew be so, so incredibly stupid?

You thought that you were being obvious, so obviously that you were sure he knew. It was embarrassing how obvious you were.

You had met Sokka in your calculus class at the start of the new semester after you ended up sitting next to each other, and it wasn’t a stretch to say that you were immediately smitten. With eyes like the ocean and a face that had to have been crafted by the gods, you were almost too distracted to respond when he asked you for a pencil. But when he winked at you after giving his thanks, it only solidified what you had already suspected: you had known this man for all of five minutes, and you already had a crush on him.

Little did you know, it was going to turn into the most infuriating crush you had ever experienced.

You and Sokka became fast friends even though calculus was the only class you had together. Unfortunately, it was also something that you completely sucked at. Bad news, it was required for your major. Good news, Sokka was some sort of genius and offered to tutor you — Wednesdays in the library turned into a weekly occasion, and served as an opening for your calculus skills, your feelings for Sokka, and your exasperation to all grow stronger.

You normally weren’t someone to beat around the bush. If you started to like someone, you told them and dealt with whatever happened after, but something about Sokka just kept you from spilling your feelings outright. You knew that if he didn’t feel the same way, your relationship likely wouldn’t change, but there was still that tiny voice that said it’s better to stay like this in case things do go wrong — and this was the first time you listened to that voice. You simply valued your friendship too much.

But that didn’t mean you were going to be completely quiet about it — you hoped that if you did enough, he would be able to realize you liked him and do the whole process for you. A bit of a dim hope, but crushes make people do stupid things.

Things like bringing an extra coffee to every session, laughing at all his jokes (even the bad ones), sitting a little closer to him than usual, not dropping out of this wretched class so you could spend time together (it might’ve been required, but you still counted it). He didn’t make a point to object to anything, so you knew you weren’t making him uncomfortable — but you had concluded after nearly a whole semester of working and studying together that he was the most oblivious person in all of Ba Sing Se. He could teach you all kinds of formulas, but had no idea that you liked him. Grand.

Today was arguably the most important session out of any of them, seeing as your next class was the final, so it was only fitting that Sokka unknowingly made himself more interesting than any material you could’ve been working with. His arms were going to be the death of both you and your calc grade. You swore that the heat rushing to your cheeks was actually emanating off of you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sokka grinned as he saw you and raised a hand in greeting, a sentiment you would’ve returned had it not been for the coffee cups in your hands. You settled for mirroring his grin and settled down in the seat across from him. You slid his coffee cup over, set your own down, then shrugged your bag off all before taking a seat.

“You ready to study ‘till your eyes bleed?” he asked, prompting a nervous laugh from you.

“You jest, but my eyes might actually start bleeding depending on how long we go,” you sighed. “There’s a reason I got an extra shot of espresso today.”

“Come on — by now you should know that you have nothing to worry about! I am the best teacher there is, and you got me all to yourself.”

Your eyes widened momentarily and you coughed, purposefully averting your gaze to give yourself some time to recover. Okay, he was going to make it really hard to focus today. “Let’s just get into it.”

He nodded and flipped open his notebook, beginning to talk as he rifled through his bag for a few extra things. “Okay, we’re just gonna start with going over the basics, then we’ll work our way up. There’s a couple practice problems on that page, so you can go ahead and answer those as a warmup.

You slid the notebook over in front of you and after approximately five seconds of looking at the first problem, found yourself studying Sokka rather than the material. Who could blame you? In the battle of cute tutor boy versus calculus, he was going to win every time.

He turned around and you immediately averted your eyes once again, trying to appear extremely involved, but you found that your mind was empty on anything to do with math. “Hey, uh— how do you do this first one? I’m totally blanking here.”

“We use limits in everything — this is actually something you’re really good at!” He studied you intensely and frowned. “Are you okay? Like, you’re not sick or anything, are you? You seem kinda out of it.”

You choked out a laugh and shook your head. “No, no — I’m fine. I guess I’m just a little tired.” As if to demonstrate your lie, you took a sip from your coffee and cringed internally. Love had turned you into an idiot.

He seemed to buy it as he nodded and picked up the pencil, scribbling a couple of notes as he explained the first problem to you. “Does that make sense?” You nodded and he handed the pencil back to you. “Okay — the other ones follow the same kind of process. It should be easy enough.”

You managed to get a little further in the second problem, but your lovestruck mind would not stop focusing back on Sokka every time you tried to do, well, anything. Curse him and his perfect arms, and eyes, and hairstyle, and everything.

You shook your head and set the pencil down once more, letting loose a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Yes, you did. “I just can’t focus at all.” Because of you. You picked up your cup once more and took a sip, hoping it would do something to get you back into the math state of mind.

Sokka frowned once more as he put the back of his hand against your forehead. “God, you’re hot.” You nearly choked on your coffee as your eyes practically bulged out of their sockets — he had to know what he was doing by now — how could he not? “Like, you’re completely burning up. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I swear— I just…” you set your cup down on the table and heaved a sigh that was a touch more exasperated than necessary. “Are you telling me you seriously haven’t noticed? Like, not a single thing this whole year?”

“I’ve noticed a lot of things this year,” he chuckled. “It’s kind of our whole job, so you’re gonna have to be a lot more specific.”

You finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Sokka, I’m not— I’m not sick! Haven’t you noticed that I’m only ever flustered, or running into things, or forgetting info, or— or just a complete idiot when I’m around you? I like you, like, a lot, and I have for an embarrassingly long time! The reason I can’t focus is because I am hopelessly attracted to you in every single way.”

His brows creased for a moment and you clamped your mouth shut, worried that you had just ruined everything. It was only after a pause that felt like a century that he finally responded, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Well, why didn’t you just say something?”

You stared at him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in pure surprise before the annoyance set in. You set your jaw as your brows furrowed and you hit him lightly on the side of his arm with the back of your palm. “You can’t be serious! You— you’ve gotta be messing with me by now. I really can’t believe that you can be that smart but this oblivious!”

He finally let the grin play across his lips in full force and he shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, I don’t know how you don’t expect me to mess with you when you scrunch up your face all cute like that every time you get mad. Besides, I started liking you after that fifth class; I offered to help you out so I could spend more time with you! I didn’t realize you felt the same way. I kinda just enjoyed the free coffee and getting to look at you all the time.”

“I can’t believe you!” you cried as you hit his other arm. “You’re telling me that I had to deal with this- this mental turmoil about whether you liked me back, while you were just enjoying the free eye candy and coffee the whole time?”

“You have nothing to worry about! I enjoyed the company far more than the coffee,” he joked, a certain twinkle in his eye. “But, you are probably out a couple twenties after all of that. So, what do you say about this Saturday, the cafe by the shoe store? My treat.”

“Damn right it’s your treat,” you shot back, though you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your face. “You owe me a lot — you have to make up for those coffees and all the emotional distress you caused.”

“Oh, I think I’ll have plenty of time to make up for lost time. After all, we do have a lot of coffee dates to get through.” And when he winked at you just like that first day, you remembered just how impossible it was to be angry at Sokka. “But first, we kinda have to get through this study date. The final’s still happening tomorrow.”

You responded with a raised brow. “This is a study date?”

Sokka shrugged and grinned. “They’ve all been study dates. You just didn’t know it.”

-

idiots in love idiots in love idiots In LOVe

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

atla: @marianne1806

[mrkcore]

𝐄𝐏 𝟏: 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓 - 𝐥.𝐡𝐜

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lee donghyuck x fem!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: college!au (cs - computer science major haechan, psychology major y/n)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, slight angst

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): suggestive innuendo(s), infidelity, drinking

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

𝐚/𝐧: the first chapter of the and they were roommates! series :D send in an ask or comment here to be added to the taglist! (sorry for the delay, i have been really unproductive so uh, yeah)

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

you’ve been stuck with haechan for about a month. you’ve successfully avoided him for the majority of the time, he’s still a bit flirty, but he’s been pretty quiet too.

except for when he streams. did he mention that he was a streamer? unfortunately no, you had to find out the hard way.

“haechan, can you fucking tone it down?” you storm into his room after enduring half an hour of his screaming on a thursday night. “i have an essay due tomorrow and it’s 30 percent of my mar-”

you see a professional looking mic, webcam, and another monitor with what seems like comments flowing in constantly on the screen.

“oh…” you trail off taking in all the equipment in front of you as haechan looks up at you.

“oh hey, sorry about that, jeno and renjun were being noobs and i needed to teach them a lesson, chat knows. i’ll keep it down, sorry.” he turns back to his game in front of him, completely unbothered.

“yeah.. uh sorry for barging in, thanks.” you say quickly and dash out his room, hearing the other voices from his headset laugh.

your face is hot, and you feel so embarrassed. 

anyways, lesson learned.

a few days later, you were complaining to your friend about haechan on a zoom call–as usual.

this time, however, she needed to spill the tea about her thoughts.

“ma’am, what is this tension,” she jokes. “i can feel it from miles away.”

“hey!” you snap back. “need i remind you that i have a boyfriend? and haechan? ew no, he gets on my nerves too much for that.”

“oh right, your boyfriend.” she rolls her eyes.  “i think you need to visit him, you’re so uptight all the time, i’m gonna get wrinkles if you keep complaining to me about shit.”

“oh right, restrictions have been slightly lifted, i can probably go visit him.” you remember reading about it in the news.

“yep, go.” your friend sips on her iced coffee and you laugh.

the next day, you go through with your plan to go visit your boyfriend.

all prepped and ready and you were going to walk out the door before you hear haechan coming out his room.

“oh, good morning, i’ll be out for a bit, maybe the whole day.” you say to him.

“good morning.” he yawns. “look at you all dolled up and pretty, where you going?” he smirks as you roll your eyes.

“visiting my boyfriend,” you scowl out. “now if you’ll excuse me, i better get going.”

“oh great, hope you enjoy your time with him.” he smiles and you think he’s going to be nice for once. “don’t forget protection.”

you groan. of course he had to ruin it.

“thanks haechan.” you yell behind you as you walk out the door.

it takes around 1 hour to drive to your boyfriend’s university, and an additional 10 minutes to his apartment, and you’re giddy the whole time. 

you’ve missed human interaction. 

and no, lee haechan does not count. 

you’ve missed the warmth and fuzzy feeling of an embrace, of having someone’s arms around you, protecting you from the outside world. 

you couldn’t wait to get cuddles.

hopefully your boyfriend likes this surprise.

gleefully walking into the building, pressing in the password to his apartment complex. completely missing the creaking coming from his room, but as you entered, you hear the voice of another person, who was definitely not your boyfriend.

you stomp right up to the door, and push it open.

there’s two people in the bed, and your eyes glower at your boyfriend.

“what?” the girl screams, scrambling to cover herself.

“babe?” your boyfriend is frozen on the spot as the girl looks at him as if he just said the most bizarre thing ever.

“babe?” she seems angry now. “you said you were single? what the fuck?”

“yeah, i think he lied to you.” you say coldly. “do you have anything to confess, ‘babe’?”

“you’re a douche, what the fuck.” she gets up and gets dressed. “i’m so sorry, he told me he was available, i would literally never agree to sleep with anyone who’s taken.”

“yeah, it’s okay.” you say, kind of relieved, and the two stare are you like you’re an alien. “at least now i know what type of person i was dating.”

and you turn to walk out.

“wait, babe please.” your ex tries to run after you. “y/n, let me explain.”

“no need to, we’re over.” you turn to say. “you need a ride?” you ask the girl.

“yeah sure.” she says. “don’t call me.”  

“babe please, can we talk this out?”

you couldn’t believe it. you drove 1 hour to see him and he has the audacity to pull this shit and expect you to just easily forgive? nope, lesson learned.

pfft, and he said long distance would work. 

“no we can’t, now if you’ll excuse us, we have somewhere else to be.” you grab the girls arm and walk out the door, slamming it in front of your ex’s face before he can catch up.

“do you have any plans for the rest of today?” you ask the girl after entering your car. she shakes her head while you smile. “great, any bar or night club recommendations you have?”

“uhh, bar then nightclub?” she suggests. 

“i like the way you think.” you giggle. “i’m y/n btw.”

“yina.” she smiles back at you as you pull out of the parking lot. 

a few hours later, and way too many drinks in, you’re at a table with yina, spilling your deepest secrets about your relationship with your ex.

“can you believe he made me wash his socks?” you take a sip before continuing. “and with my hands too!”

“what? that’s disgusting!” she listens to you rant in disbelief.

“yeah, he said that his socks were precious and the washing machine was too harsh on the cotton or some crap.” you snicker as you recall the other stupid stuff he told you. “ah the shit i did for love.”

“men are trash,” yina says. “cheers to that.” and you both down the rest of what’s left of your drink.

fast forward another 2 hours, you’re wasted. absolutely wasted. 

yina held you back a little bit, but its no use. you needed this.

“y/n, it’s like 11 pm, you’re drunk, i’m barely sober, i think we should call someone to come and get us.” yina tries to reason with you while you shake your head.

finally after 10 minutes of bickering, you finally agree.

“here’s my phone, you can call anyone.” you rest your head on your folded hands after handing her your unlocked phone. “anyone but haechan.” you start to doze off. “anyone but haechan…”

“hbbhng” you jolt up, feeling the warmth of your own bed. 

how did you get back home?

groaning, you feel your headache. you feel the vomit coming up your throat as you gag.

you almost fall trying to get out of your covers.

“woah there, be careful.” haechan is suddenly barging into your room, holding onto you so you don’t fall on your face, guiding you to your bathroom.

you’re too nauseous to wonder why he’s even helping you or even bother screaming at him like usual.

he pats your back soothingly as you vomit into the toilet.

“there you go, that’s it. i’ve got you.” he reassures you.

“what are you even doing helping me?” you’ve washed up and downed some water, you’re 100% sober now.

“wow,” haechan chuckles, rolling his eyes. “after saving your ass last night, this is the thank you i get?”

“what do you mean you saved me?” you’re genuinely confused by what he means.

“this yina girl called me from your phone, telling me that you’re blacked out drunk in a nightclub at 11:32 PM, on a saturday. asking me to come and get you.” he says, matter-of-factly. “i call a cab, get to the nightclub, haul your ass out the club, drive yina back home, and then us. where during our commute back, you wake up, start crying, and when we get home, you’re bawling about how your boyfriend cheated and you were a dumbass for thinking he would change. remember now?”

you’re in shock.

yina called haechan? you remember clearly that you told her not to, this is so embarrassing. you even cried about your ex to him? oh dear lord you wanted to crawl back into your room into a deep pit and never come out. 

haechan must’ve noticed your distressed expression because his face turns softer.

“hey hey hey, sorry, that was a bit mean. you just got out of a relationship, that was really inappropriate of me and i do not blame you for wanting to relax a bit.” he tries to comfort you once again. you’re in even more shock by his words. “honestly, me driving you back home, and taking care of you was the least i could do. it would have been so mean if i just left you guys there.”

you wanted to burst out into tears. 

this is the nicest thing you’ve heard in about 6 months.

unfortunately, haechan doesn’t know that.

“oh gosh, jheez, i’m not helping aren’t i.” he’s panicked by your emotional state. “uhm, to make it up to you, i’ll watch one of those scary movies with you?”

your tears instantly are sucked back into your eyes in excitement.

“really?” you ask, just making sure.

“yep, ahaha.” he laughs nervously, but happy to see your mood lighten up.

“you free tonight?” bouncing up and down practically.

“yeah…” haechan is a bit scared. “aren’t you going a bit too fast though, princess? you jut got out of a relationship.”

you gasp and slap him in the arm.

“okay okay! that was a joke. yeah i’m free, i have an essay due, but i’ll be done by 6.” haechan says.

“sounds good!” you b-line for the kitchen, your stomach is completely empty. “see you then haechan!”

oh how haechan regrets his offer.

6 o’clock rolls by, and you choose “the shining” to watch with haechan. anticipating the terror it would bring him. 

and you were right.

every jumpscare, even the smallest sounds, haechan would screech in fright. the last straw for him was the knock on your door.

“AHHHH!” he screams, almost knocking the popcorn out of your hands.

“calm down, dude.” you say, standing up to open the door.

to the unfortunate sight of your ex.

“y/n?” he says, softly.

“what are you doing here? how did you find out where i lived?” you were very sure you never gave him your dorm address.

“your friend gave it to me,” the eye bags he has are very evident. “listen, can we talk?”

“no?” haechan suddenly butts into the conversation. “you literally cheated on her, she doesn’t owe you anything.”

“who are you? her rebound?” your ex frowns. 

“her roommate, and if you even bothered to keep up with y/n, you’d know.” haechan returns the frown.

“it’s between me and y/n, you have no business telling us what to do.” your ex is getting more aggressive now.

“that’s funny, i was the one who was called to drive her home while she was out drunk, i was the one who listened to her talk about how she regretted believing you again, i was the one who held her hair back when she was vomiting this morning from her hangover.” haechan again returns the energy. “you tried to contact her, but she blocked your number and you had to get her address from her friend. you never even cared to ask her beforehand, and now you wanna try and show up to seem like you care? bullshit. now if you’ll excuse us now, we have a movie to finish.” he slams the door in his face and haechan surprises you for the millionth time today.

your ex bangs on the door for about 3 minutes before giving up, and you guys sit in silence as the movie still plays.

“hey haechan.” you try and start.

“AHHH!” he screams again, scaring you this time.

“JHEEZ BRO I WAS TRYING TO START A CONVO, CHILL OUT.” you scream back.

“okay, i’m fine, yeah sorry, continue.” haechan pants out.

“thanks for that.” you say, genuinely. “not even joking, you didn’t have to do that.”

“well i did, because that dude was a douche. literally having the guts to come over here and try and ask for forgiveness after he cheats. unbelievable.”

“yeah.” you fiddle with your fingers anxiously.

“i like this side of you,” haechan breaks the awkwardness. “you’re usually uptight, little-miss-perfect, and cranky, so i like this raw side of you.”

“mhm, i realized that now. sorry for being such a bitch.” you admit.

“no, i honestly deserve it. but i hope we can be friends now, it would be great to have real conversations with someone, you know?” he says.

“seriously?” you hit him in the chest as he chuckles.

“i’m joking! i swear. but seriously, friends?” he asks.

“yeah, friends.” 

and that’s where it started.

© mrkcore. 2021.

[ticklishfiend]

What Do You Know?!

My Hero Academia [Kaminari, Sero, Mina]

Summary: Sero and Mina see Bakugou and Kirishima cuddling, and wanna tell Denki to surprise him with this news. Unfortunately for them, he already knew about this and is refusing to answer their questions...well, nothing a little “persuasion” can’t fix.

AN: i haven’t written in a hot second!! i knew i said i was gonna write smth for saiki k, and i probably still will, but denki getting tickled silly has been on my mind recently and i couldn’t just Not. i hope u enjoy!!

Word Count: 1,829

~~~

There’s nothing in the world Denki Kaminari treasures more than a good old-fashioned lazy Saturday, even if a lot of his friends judge him harshly for it. He doesn’t care, though, cause right now the feeling of snuggling himself into the corner of this UA dorm couch cushion feels way better than any exercise routine his friends could ever recommend. 

Fully dressed in only his shorts and tank top covered in the fluffiest blanket he could find laying around, he swore he could just about fall into the deepest lazy-induced coma the world had ever seen. That is, until, two of his best friends ran into the common areas from the hallway.

“Denki! Denki!” He heard a familiar female-voice shout, grinning as he heard the pink girls slippers slide against the slippery floor.

“Dude, holy shit have we got something to tell you,” Sero’s voice joined in from right behind Kaminari’s head, making the blonde look up to see the all-too familiar wide smile from his best friend. The black-haired boy jumped over the back of the sofa, landing beside Denki with a huff.

“What’s up?” Denki asked, turning his tired body towards the pair with raised eyebrows. Mina let out a dramatic muffled shriek from behind her hands, before excitedly waving them around her head. 

“Okay okay okay! So, Bakugou is like, super not-cool with touchy stuff, right?” Ashido said in an almost whisper as if she would get caught for what she was about to say.

“Well yeah, he’d probably kill us if we so much as patted his shoulder,” Kaminari chuckled, rolling his eyes at the thought. 

“Yeah, us maybe; but apparently not Kirishima,” Sero grinned widely, eyeing Mina with a knowing expression. “We just saw them cuddling in Kiri’s bed; guess they forgot to close the door all the way cause we could see it all.”

“But that’s not even all! Kirishima was like, kinda tickling Bakugou? Not like attacking him, but just, like, lightly tickling his stomach and making him all giggly and stuff,” Mina was buzzing where she sat on the coffee table in front of the two boys, excitement in her eyes.

Denki just chuckled, looking away for a moment before looking them both back in the eyes. “Yknow, I thought I was supposed to be the stupid one in this friend group.”

“Huh?” The others said in unison, Sero’s head cocking to the side.

“What do you mean? We just found out about them. Are you saying you already knew?!” Sero frowned. Denki would’ve thought he was actually angry if he didn’t notice the small smile he was fighting off his face.

“Well obviously, but they told me not to say anything, so don’t ask for any info cause I’m NOT spilling. If you think I’m about to die at the hands of Katsuki Bakugou just cause you two are nosy, you’ve got another thing coming,” Denki giggled, already starting to lay back down in his spot before Sero grabbed him by his forearm suddenly.

“Hey, you’re not getting off that easy, Sparky. You’re gonna tell us everything you know about those two, no backing out.”

“Yeah, we’ve been out of the loop for way too long! That’s totally unfair!” Mina pouted, her arms crossing in front of her chest.

“No way! I’m not asking for a fucking death wish, dude!” Kaminari tried pulling his arm out of Sero’s grip, but it wasn’t budging. Before he knew what was happening, Denki was flipped on his stomach, both hands behind his back in Sero’s firm grip. “Hey, what the-!”

Suddenly, Kaminari could feel the familiar feeling of Sero’s sticky tape being wrapped with precision around his wrists, before being flipped back over on his back, his arms raising his body just slightly off the couch. “Yo what the hell, Tapeface!”

“Oh nice one, Sero!” Mina shouted excitedly, clapping to herself. “We thinkin’ the same thing?”

“Without a doubt, Pinky,” Sero smirked, his eyes never leaving the squirming boy under him. Sero was propped up on Denki’s thighs, holding down his lower body with  his weight. “So, are you gonna start talking, or would you rather suffer a fate worse than death?” Sero smiled wickedly, his hands raising in the air above Denki’s belly with wiggling fingers. Kaminari’s eyes went wide, an accidental worried grin appearing in his face.

“Plehehease don’t,” Denki whimpered, his belly quivering under Sero’s fingers that were still in the air. He giggled helpessly, his eyes never leaving those wiggling fingers.

“I’m not even touching you yet!” Sero laughed.

“Denki, you know what you have to do if you don’t want this,~” Mina moved over towards Kaminari’s feet, using one hand to hold his left ankle down while her other hand’s fingers just rested still on his sole.

“Mina nohoho! Pleheheease, I can’t tell you guys, you know thahahat!” Denki squirmed, trying half-heartedly to get away, his Saturday laziness almost outweighing his desire to not be tickled silly.

“Alright Mina...on three…” Sero started, his fingers slowly getting closer to Kaminari’s belly.

“No! Waahait! C’mon, can’t we talk about this?!” Denki struggled, giggles leaving him without even trying.

“That’s what we’re trying to get you to do, Denki! Spill!” Mina smirked, before scribbling over Denki’s feet with no patience. Denki screamed with laughter, back arching off the couch as his hands tried desperately to release themselves from their sticky bonds.

“Mina, you were supposed to wait!” Sero smiled before suddenly digging his fingers into Kaminari’s sides without mercy. 

“NOHOHO! STOHOHOP! I’M SOHOHORRY!” Denki cackled, his eyes squeezed tightly shut and smile so wide it nearly split his face. His right leg, not being held down by the pink torturer, kicked uselessly under Sero’s weight.

“So does that mean you’re gonna tell us everything you know about Kirishima and Bakugou?” Sero smiled, creeping his hands under Denki’s shirt and fluttering over his lower belly. This elicited higher-pitched shrieks from the smaller boy, his stomach sucking in uselessly

“I CAHAHAN’T! I CAHAHA-” Kaminari’s words dissolved into nothing but giggles. He felt the smallest bit of relief once he felt Mina’s hands finally leave his feet alone. The pink girl stood from her spot at his feet and began walking towards his thrashing head (not like Denki could see this, as his eyes were squeezed shut so tightly he was seeing colorful spots).

Ashido knelt down beside his head, her fingers now barely fluttering over his incredibly sensitive neck. Denki let out a girlish shriek, dissolving into childish giggles while trying to bunch his shoulders up to fend off her wiggling fingers.

“C’mon, Denki, I know you wanna talk~” Sero teased, his left fingers still fluttering over Kaminari’s very sensitive lower-belly, while his left hand dug ruthlessly into his ribs. Denki was cackling, his now semi-free legs kicking helplessly, ankles occasionally digging into the cushions with mirth.

Suddenly, Mina stopped tickling his neck, looking over towards her fellow killer. “Sero...go for the spot.” Denki let out a loud gasp, eyes snapping open to look towards Sero with pleading eyes. Sero stopped his tickling for a moment, allowing Denki to breathe for just a moment, not like Kaminari took this as an actual chance to catch his breath. Of course, he instead used this moment to plead for his life.

“SERO! Sero! We’re buddies, right?1 You don’t have to do this! We can talk about this plehehease! Please!” Kaminari pleaded like he was about to lose his life, though the wide, happy smile on his face told his friends all they needed to know about what he really wanted.

“Hey, Sparky, you know he doesn’t have to do a thing if you just tell us what we wanna know~” Mina whispered teasingly in the blonde’s ear, her tickly breath causing a giggle to leave his throat as he scrunched up his neck yet again.

“Christ, Kaminari, you’re so ticklish,” Sero laughed, his hands now resting on Denki’s hips.

“Nohoho! Please not there, plehehease! What do you wanna know?!” Denki pleaded, his hands still struggling in their bonds beneath his back.

“How long have you known?!” Mina poked his cheek.

“What other cute stuff have you seen that you kept from us?!” Sero squeezed Denki’s hips once, though the action still made the boy jolt with a choked laugh.

“And why are they hiding it from us?!”  Mina pinched Denki’s nose, making him move his head away with a stifled uncomfortable giggle.

“Okahahy, okay. I’ll...I’ll talk. Just...not my hips, GOD not my hips,” Kaminari rolled his head back with another giggle.

“Whatever you say, giggle-monster,” Sero chuckled, sneaking in two quick squeezes to Denki’s hips, causing the smaller boy to shriek. Sero rolled off of Kaminari, flipping the boy back over on his stomach and untying the tape binding his hands together. Kaminari finally sat up, stretching his now slightly-sore arms.

“Jesus, you two are way too good at that. I swore for a minute there I was gonna die,” Kaminari smiled, covering himself up with his blanket again before facing the two offenders before him.

“Well, get on with it,” Ashido said, raising her hands to her face with wiggling fingers. Kaminari giggled nervously at this, suriming a bit in his seat.

“Oh right, that,” he smiled. “I’ve known for like...I don’t know, 4 months now? I don’t actually know exactly how long it’s been happening, but definitely 4 months minimum.”

Sero and Mina pouted like children at that. “Seriously, that long and we never knew?!” Sero whined.

“How did you find out!?” Mina asked.

“I walked in on them making out when I was going to ask Bakugou with help on my homework. Kirishima basically had to convince Bakugou not to murder me on the spot for being a witness, and I had to promise them I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Well why did they keep it from us in the first place?” Sero asked, his head cocking to the side in confusion. “It’s not like we’d judge them for it, y’know?”

“Yeah, well, you know Bakugou. Can’t let anyone know he experiences human emotions other than pure, fiery rage,” Denki said, his hands mimicking Bakugou’s signature hand motion he uses before blasting someone into the next dimension.

“THE HELL’D YOU SAY ABOUT ME, POWER OUTLET?!” A loud yell came from the hallway, Kaminari’s hair standing on edge at the sound. 

“Oh shit...you think he knows I spilled?” Denki whispered worriedly at his ex-torturers.

“Maybe not now, but he will,” Sero smiled wickedly before jumping off the couch and walking confidently towards the hallway.

“Wait, what?!-” Kaminari started before going uiet as he heard muffled talking coming from the hallway. There was a few moments of nothing but pure silence. Then-

“I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU WALKING SHORT-CIRCUIT!” 

“You should probably run,” Mina smiled, giggling behind her hand. Denki shot up off the couch, making a b-line towards the front door, giggling the whole way there.

~~~

AN: hope you enjoyed that! reblogs are highly appreciated, but likes are great too!!

[milktyama]

karasuno boys on first dates pt.2

part 1

a/n: idk about yall but this pandemic making me feel extra lonely </3 LIKE I CAN’T EVEN HUG MY OWN FRIENDS FFFFFF. sucks being a physical person during this time. i’m also procrastinating from math homework, words make more sense than numbers

genre: fluff, lighthearted, g!n s/o, kinda?? cliche??

includes: tanaka, sugawara, asahi, daichi

wc: 1489

tanaka ryunosuke

he is the type to bring you to a movie date

classic and simple

he wants to recreate that oh so romantic moment of casually laying his arm over your shoulder and bring you slightly closer together

maybe if he wants to get a little spicy have you lay your head on his shoulder

but let’s move a few steps back to the asking out part

oh dear god

this man, although he is a mad gentleman, cannot handle feelings for the life of him

and in all honesty, probably took him a little far too long to ask you out

he had this whole scenario out of a movie in his head, all the vibes of a protagonist; boy meets girls moment

and the second he musters his courage and walk up to you during the end of the day, he freezes up

needed ennoshita to give you that sweet insight so you made the first move yourself or it would’ve taken a solid month or two before he could manage to greet you and start some small talk

he does not deal with feelings too well

fast forward to the date

he suggests a a rather romantic movie since he is kinda that type of guy

but you were feeling rather active today and suggests an action movie

and honestly he couldn’t thank you more because although he’s a hopeless romantic, probably could not stand a 2 hour romance movie

he doesn’t like to be called out by a movie </3

anyways, remember that movie scenario in his head? yea that’s out of the question

for one, you two were too hype during the movie; something about superheroes kicking ass is just oh so exciting

secondly, he was wimping out a little

at the end of the movie, you just, shine the brightest smile he has ever seen on you

and oh baby does he feel so HONOURED to be the cause of that smile

but the next thing you do absolutely makes his heart swell

you ask him for a second date

we did it gamers

quite ironically you guys go on a arcade game for your second date, and this mans does not give you an easy time, but you just love that competitiveness in him

sugawara koushi

starting at the beginning, he asks you out

he keeps it simple and straightforward

calls you out right before you exit school buildings, and asks you if you wanna watch practice because he’s obviously trying to woo you a little before his nerve wrecking question

and you gladly agree

i mean who can say no to mr. refreshing sugawara koushi

when he walks through the gym doors and the members seeing you walk right behind him, they would totally kinda misread the situation

i mean no questions asked when it comes to the boys having some insight to the setter’s feelings, however they were just a few steps too forward

saddest part it was DAICHI himself who went “woahh suga you already asked her out? good job man!”

his soul never left his body as fast as that time

like his boys really ruined that one time he wanted to go perfect

but it’s fine

because although you two were in a little of a blushing mess, you lightly grip his sleeve and murmured the cutest “i’m free on saturday afternoon”

saying that he short circuited is honestly an understatement

saturday rolls around and you two unanimously agreed to baking class date

it’s just a really fun and interactive date idea and suga is so in for activity dates

even though you two knew it was gonna get a little messy, yall SIMPS still put on some of your fav outfits

it was so worth it though ‘cause suga’s reaction to your outfit was just all you needed in the world

the date is really fun and playful

totally not at you two flouring each other haha nooo....

he walks you home just before you two part ways, his bold little butt places his hand on top of your head, pecks your forehead and gives you the widest smile

“pottery painting next?”

azumane asahi

asahi is a simple and shy man

i’m pretty sure that’s the obvious

and he would def opt for a simple, at home date

of course only if the other party is comfortable enough for that

don’t get me started at how he asked you

asahi is such a baby and probably has so much trouble with expressing his emotions on the whim/real time

he’ll probably go for a love letter (damn cheesey) just in case he messes up his wording and turns into a blabbering mess trying to make up for the previous mistake

i can imagine his love lever being just the most aesthetically pleasing

like homeboy pulled one of those scrapbooking, journaling people on instagram

plus points he did a wax seal thing (so fancy oml)

most likely put in your locker and then just RAN out of the place like usain bolt

and for the cherry on top, you would return a letter with the same amount of effort (probably not as pretty as his tho LMFAO) accepting his little date uwu

when the date comes, he would set up and clean his house to the tip top utmost cleanliness it could be

at his house, you two would probably watch some movies, play some board games, bake a little and so on

but the highlight of the date is when while watching your like 3rd movie, you doze off into asahi’s shoulder and boy you should’ve seen his FACE

so read and so cute

*insert pleading eyes emoji x2000*

he would gently stroke your hair, careful trying not to wake you up

but unfortunately for him you are a light sleeper

so you would wake up but allow him to run his fingers through your hair

and then when you decide to wake wake up, you tell him that when he strokes your head feels so nice and makes you feel safe AIJFSOLDKRG

and you ask him if you can do the same to him or try styling his hair

and how could he say no to you?

you two spend hours playing with each other’s hair (or only his if you have short hair)

oh and you took so any adorable pictures of him

he got so flustered but it was fine if it was you

sawamura daichi

as a man with the biggest appetite in the series, no surprise that daichi would bring you to a local restaurant for a little date

daichi is also a confident man

so he would puff his chest and put the effort to approach you

though as confident as i make him out to be, there’s still light pink dusted on the apples of his cheeks and hand awkwardly scratching the back of his neck as he makes eye contact with you

he’ll have you watch their practice and right after you two would make your to his favorite local restaurant for dinner

also during practice the third and second years would NOT give their captain a break while the first years are probably either too confused or don’t care (COUGH COUGH TSUKISHIMA)

anyways after practice and walking to the place is literally so perfect because sun in setting and the atmosphere is so romantic

you two probably walk right beside each other and making small talk when daichi is hinting that he wants to hold you hand by brushes that back of your hands together often

BUT YOU’RE PROBABLY SO SHY THAT EVERYTIME IS HAPPENS YOU JUST BLUSH AND APOLOGIZE AND EVENTUALLY U PUT YOUR HAND INSIDE YOUR BLAZER POCKET?????

HONEY YOU CAN ONLY BE SO  D E N S E

n e ways

knowing daichi, he probably goes to this restaurant very often and knows the menu like the back of his hand

so he would ask you for your preferences and then give you his recommendations based on that

he just wants to make sure you will enjoy your meal to the fullest

as a regular, he is also well acquainted with the restaurant owner

so like when mr. restaurant owner sees daichi walk in with another person while sporting a very clear blush on his face, he KNOWS something is up

while serving your orders, he was being sNEAKY by giving yall a freebie

and it turns out to be like the couple special

like those very pretty sparkly milkshakes with one of those straws that has two sides to it branching out

and like he refuse to serve yall other drinks FAGKFHJADH so you two had to with the milkshake and like oopsie moment when you two decide to go for it at the same time

the restaurant owner DEF took a pick of that exact moment and gave it to daichi as a gift AHAHAH

[imekitty]

If you're interested, I'd have a suggestion for a DP oneshot: it takes place in a classroom, with only Danny and Paulina in it since they're retaking a test they failed. Unfortunately for Paulina, she still doesn't have a clue about the right answers; Danny, on the other hand, having spent a lot of time studying, knows exactly what to do and is almost done. But just as he's about to put his signature, Paulina walks up to him and sweetly asks him what he would like to do since there's still ...

So I know you sent more asks basically giving an entire outline from start to end. However, because I like more freedom when writing, I’ve decided to go with the premise of Danny and Paulina in detention together to get help for a failed test and create my own story. I encourage you to write your full idea yourself if you would like to see it! :)

----------

“Danny, why are you still here?” asked Sam as she shut her locker. “Lancer’s gonna be mad if you’re late for detention.”

Danny groaned. “You’re right. I’m going.”

“Good luck, dude,” said Tucker. “Text us when you’re done and we’ll meet you at Nasty Burger or something.”

Danny grumbled agreement and headed to Lancer’s classroom. Lancer gave him a dull stare from behind his desk as Danny reached the doorway.

But there was another student sitting at one of the front desks, a student who escalated Danny’s heartbeat.

“Paulina?” Danny stammered. “Am I interrupting something? Should I wait outside?”

“No, Mr. Fenton,” said Lancer. “Miss Sanchez also failed our most recent test, so I’m giving both of you some extra help.”

“Hi, Danny,” greeted Paulina, her voice sweet and sultry.

“Hi.” Danny felt stuck in the doorway but forced himself to walk into the room. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect to see you here.”

Paulina laughed. “Well, I can’t say the same about you. This is exactly where I’d expect to see you.”

Danny took a seat next to Paulina. “I don’t actually get detention that often, you know.”

“Yes, you do, Mr. Fenton,” said Lancer, turning to face the whiteboard and write notes with a fresh blue marker. “You currently hold the record for most detentions received in a semester.”

Danny blushed. Paulina giggled softly.

Lancer began drawling on about some poet who died but Danny could barely pay attention. Oh, he certainly tried, but being so close to the most beautiful girl in school was really hurting his concentration.

He stole glances at her out of the corner of his eye. And one time, he swore he could see her looking at him as well.

After lecturing for some time, Lancer assigned a few independent practice exercises from their textbook and disappeared out into the hall. Danny could hear the voice of another English teacher in the school and knew Lancer would likely be talking to her for a while.

Danny looked down at his textbook. He was supposed to answer questions about poetry devices or some other thing he still didn’t really get. He had no idea why English was such a pain in the ass. He definitely didn’t know why he had to learn all this crap about poetry, like when was that ever going to help him fight ghosts or do anything actually important?

His gaze travelled down the textbook page to his blank sheet of paper and then across and off his desk to Paulina, who was busy writing. She stopped when she caught him staring at her.

“Can I help you with something, Danny?” she asked, her tone snide but kind.

“Sorry.” Danny sucked his teeth. “So, um… You failed the test too, huh?”

Paulina breathed hard out her nose and sat back in her seat. “Yeah. I didn’t really have the time to study, you know? And I guess I didn’t realize it would be as hard as it was.”

“Didn’t have time to study?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I’m not, like, stupid.” Paulina chuckled. “I could’ve passed if I just wasn’t so busy.”

“Busy with what?” asked Danny. “Do you and the A-List hang out a lot?”

“Sure, but that’s not what keeps me busy. Cheerleading, for one. We have to practice all the time, sometimes even in the morning. And the mornings we don’t practice, I’m still getting up early to get in a run and some exercise. I’m the cheerleading captain, you know. I have to keep everyone at their best and motivated. Every day, I’m working out choreography for new routines and figuring out new fundraising ideas.”

“Don’t you have a coach for that?”

“Yeah, of course, but I still do a lot. Cheerleading isn’t just some silly girls’ activity, you know.”

“I—I didn’t say it was—”

“I have to make sure everything and everyone is ready for practice.” Paulina pulled back a finger on one hand as she listed off responsibilities. “I have to text all the girls and let them know about changes in our practice schedule or upcoming events. If any of the girls aren’t getting along, I have to try to keep the peace as much as possible so that we’re still a team. I’m also the one greeting visiting cheer squads during games, making them feel welcome at our school.”

“I didn’t know you did all that,” said Danny.

“The coach manages our time and schedule and makes sure none of the girls are failing in their classes, things like that, but I’m the one really communicating with the girls, you know?” Paulina sighed. “But I wish that was all I had going on.”

“You’re busy with other things?”

“Yeah, being as popular as I am, I’m often being asked by teachers and student clubs to do things. Advertising stuff, endorsing student council candidates, making appearances, giving fashion advice for uniforms. And I never turn anyone down, I always say yes.” Paulina leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “Sometimes I wish I could just say no.”

“Why don’t you?” asked Danny.

“Because it’s expected of me. Being popular means doing things to maintain that popularity. If I start turning people down, they’re gonna think I’m a bitch, you know?”

“But you turn guys down for dates all the time.” Danny smiled and propped his elbow on his desk. “Me being one of them.”

Paulina also smiled. “Personal things like that are okay to turn down. I mean like anything to do with the school and clubs. Of course I can’t just date every guy who asks me out. Can’t give the impression I’m easy either.”

She looked ahead at the whiteboard, her smile vanishing.

“I do get a lot of guys asking me out,” said Paulina. “I know it’s just because I’m pretty. But looking this pretty all the time is work too. I have to eat right and watch my weight and exercise and spend half an hour each night on my skin care routine and an hour each morning on my hair and makeup and then touchups throughout the day. I never know when someone might take a picture of me and send it around. I can’t risk ever looking bad.”

“You have never looked bad,” said Danny. “Like ever.”

Paulina’s smile returned. “Thank you. That’s sweet.” She groaned and stretched out her arms. “But I tell you, Danny. I probably only get three to four hours of sleep a night. I’m running on coffee and energy drinks all day long. This detention is really cutting into my time, too. I’m probably gonna be up late finishing all my other homework.”

She continued to stretch. Danny normally might’ve enjoyed watching her but he was too struck by her words.

She only got three to four hours of sleep a night?

But… That was how much sleep he usually got a night.

And yet she looked amazing every day and he knew he was just a pale haunted mess with dark eyes.

“So what about you, Danny?”

Danny blinked. “Hmm?”

“Why did you fail this test?” asked Paulina.

“Oh. Um.” Danny looked up and to the right. “I was also too busy.”

“Oh, yeah?” Paulina tossed a piece of hair over her shoulder. “You do come to class late a lot. Do you have like some sort of astronomy club meeting in the morning?”

“Astronomy club?”

“Yeah, don’t you like space and stuff?”

“Oh. Yeah! I do. But I’m not in the astronomy club.”

“Really? I would think you’d be their president.” Paulina chuckled. “Well, are you in any school clubs, then?”

Danny thought about the meetings he had with Sam, Tucker, and sometimes Jazz about their ghost-fighting strategies. “Not school clubs, no.”

“Any extracurricular activities at all? I know you don’t play any sports.”

“No…”

Paulina pursed her lips. “Well, then what is it that keeps you too busy to study?”

Danny looked off to the side, humming softly to himself.

“I often see you with Sam and Tucker after school at the Nasty Burger. Or on Saturdays at the mall.”

Danny turned back to her. “Well, yeah, we like to hang out after school to wind down. Don’t you hang out with your friends? You don’t do all that work all the time, do you?”

“Yeah, of course! I’m actually scheduled to hang out with them right after detention.”

“Scheduled?”

“Yeah. It’s important to me to make time for my friends, so I often schedule it to make sure it happens.” She tapped open her calendar on her phone and showed it to him. “I even keep Saturday nights free for possible dates, see?”

Danny stared at the empty slot under Saturday and wondered if this was a hint and if she wanted him to ask her to go out on Saturday.

But no way was he about to risk embarrassing himself by asking.

“So do the three of you do something that keeps you too busy to study?” Paulina put her phone back in her lap. “You, Sam, and Tucker, I mean.”

Danny scratched through his mind, raking for something, anything that wasn’t the truth but also maybe not a complete lie. He couldn’t let Paulina think he was just lazy and hung out with his friends eating burgers or walking around the mall all day.

“We, uh… Yeah.” Danny pretended to cough. “We help my parents out with their research.”

“Research?” Paulina scrunched her mouth. “You mean, like, ghost stuff?”

Danny nodded. “We sometimes test out their inventions.”

“That sounds kind of dangerous. Is it?” Paulina narrowed her eyes, appearing to scrutinize him. “Is that why you so often have injuries? Like that bruise by your collarbone there?”

Danny hastily tugged at his shirt collar. “Oh. You noticed that?”

“Yeah. Of course. A lot of people notice you’re often sporting some new cut or bruise.”

“Oh. Well, that’s, uh—”

“I’ve even heard some teachers say they might need to call CPS.”

Danny’s stomach flopped. “What?”

“Yeah, I hear lots of things teachers say since I’m around the whole school a lot.” Paulina shrugged. “But I’ve noticed Sam and Tucker sometimes have injuries as well. So is it from helping your parents out with their ghost research?”

“No, it’s not like that!” said Danny quickly, almost panting with the effort. “We just sometimes test out their inventions, give feedback, strategize on how to catch certain ghosts. Just stuff like that, nothing huge.”

“Ooh, catch ghosts like the ghost boy?” Paulina’s tone changed to almost a squeal. She held her hands near her chest.

“Uh.” Danny swallowed. “Well—”

“If your parents do ever catch him, you must let me know, okay?”

“I—”

“Because then I can get the A-List together so we can find a way to rescue him!”

Danny stared at her. “You’d really do that?”

“Well, of course! The ghost boy has done so much for all of us. He even saved my life once, you know! I could never just let him be captured.” Paulina lowered her voice. “Oh, but please don’t tell your parents that.”

Danny slowly nodded, holding back a smile. “Oh, sure, I would never tell them that. You have my word.”

“Here. You should have my number.” Paulina ripped off a corner of her notebook paper and scribbled some numbers on it before handing it to him. “Call or text me if they ever catch him, okay? Please?”

Danny took the piece of paper from her, feeling like he was in some sort of trance. Did this just happen? Did Paulina Sanchez, the most gorgeous girl in all of Casper High, just give him her number? To her cell phone? Like her personal cell phone?

He very carefully folded and placed the paper in his pocket. “Sure, absolutely. I’ll definitely call you if they catch him.”

She smiled and hummed, such a cute sound that made his heart flitter. But then her smile faded when her gaze travelled to his collarbone. Danny casually raised his shoulder and pulled his arm across his body to cover the bruise.

“So.” Paulina’s pretty full lips smacked. “If those injuries you keep getting aren’t from helping your parents with their inventions, then where are they from?”

Danny could feel sweat forming behind his ears.

“I mean, you’re not really that clumsy, are you?” Paulina chuckled.

Danny also chuckled, not really sure why except that she was doing it and he had no idea what else to do because he couldn’t tell her the truth and yes he was clumsy but no not that clumsy but what else could he tell her?

What would protect his parents? What would protect him?

Her expression grew warier the longer he stayed quiet.

The classroom door opened. Danny and Paulina promptly faced forward and hunched over their desks.

“Sorry I was gone so long,” said Lancer as he reclaimed his spot at the head of the room. “How are you two understanding everything?”

Paulina looked up and smiled, a secret smile Danny could tell was meant for him even though she never once glanced in his direction. “I think we’re understanding just fine, Mr. Lancer.”

Lancer looked over her notebook page and nodded his approval. Danny had no idea why he even bothered to try covering his completely blank page when Lancer came to look over his work.

“Why am I not surprised,” muttered Lancer. He knelt beside Danny’s desk with a sigh. “All right, Mr. Fenton. Let’s do this first one together to get you started.”

Behind Lancer, Danny could see Paulina flash him a smirk before returning to her own work.

He had always thought he was just busier than other students, had more responsibilities and expectations than everyone else. But he didn’t even have extracurricular activities like most students. Ghost fighting was his extracurricular activity. And somehow Paulina and everyone else still managed to do okay so why couldn’t he?

Maybe he really wasn’t that different from other kids his age after all.

Lancer was trying to talk him through something. Paulina was still wearing a small smile as she did her own work.

Danny nodded to himself and focused. He could do this. He could be like everyone else.

[boxoftheskyking]

Pick Up Every Piece, Part Three

This chapter is rated M, warning for PTSD, alcohol, war, probably a bunch of other stuff.

Wei Ying and the important gals in his life. 

(You know when you’re trying to do a style thing and then you’re like Maybe I just don’t Get Prose? this is one of those times.)

Part One, Part Two

--

Wei Ying is having a hard time breathing, but he doesn’t really mind. His face is shoved into his pillow and Wen Qing’s elbow is digging into the right side of his spine in a way that he thinks might bruise later. Just when he’s about to cry uncle, she lets up and sweeps the heels of her palms down to his waist, and it’s so good a few tears come out.

It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon with nowhere to be, and he’s just a body on a bed with his best friend, not a thought in the world.

“What is this one anyway?” she asks, pressing her thumb into a spot on the right side of his spine, just below where his waistband would be if he were wearing anything.

He turns his head and spits out the pillow. “Huh? Which?”

“This little one.” She rubs it again.

He thinks over his tattoos; there’s seven on his back, if he’s remembering right, scattered around in blacks and reds.

“Oh, the goat?”

“That’s a goat ?”

“Yeah.”

She rubs over it again. “From which angle is that supposed to be a goat?”

He props his chin up on his arm. “Have you not noticed it before?”

She squirts out some more lotion and starts working on his lower back. He doesn’t moan, because Wen Qing says she hates it when clients moan, and even though he’s not a client, he does try to be polite.

“I’ve never paid much attention to it.”

“Clearly you need to pay more attention to my ass.”

He tries to wiggle the ass in question, and she pinches him. Which is fair.

“Be nice. That’s my prison tattoo.”

“Your prison tattoo.”

“Yeah. I was in prison, so I had to get a prison tattoo.”

She scoffs. “You were in prison for like a year.”

He was, technically, in prison for a year. That’s what it says on his record. Right after leaving Gusu, on the road to Yiling, he got drunk and fought a cop, and a year was the best his brother’s influence could get him. As far as everyone knows, he served his time, annoyed the life out of hardened criminals, and went on his merry way.

Everything else that happened that year, that’s between him and Jin Guangyao and the dead.

“I can’t believe you got a stick and poke in prison.” Wen Qing is doing her judgy voice, which unfortunately always gets him hard. Well, harder. It’s some kind of automatic response—he never paid enough attention in the one psych class he took in college, so he doesn’t know the right word for it. At the moment it’s just uncomfortable because she’s got him pressed down into the mattress

“Lots of people get them,” he says, a little defensive. “I paid for it, too.”

“Do I want to know how?”

“Two weeks of my meat rations and a blow job.”

“Wei Ying.”

“What, the guy was cute.”

She sighs, judgmentally. “Why a goat?”

“He said that’s the only thing he knew how to draw.”

“Well he lied to you. You could’ve gotten an infection. On your ass.”

“He was very clean. Cleanest guy I ever sucked off behind a dryer, and that’s saying something.”

She snorts at him and then digs her knuckles into the meat of his ass, scooting down so she’s sitting on his legs. She’s just in her underwear; he can feel the soft insides of her thighs against his calves.

“So I don’t pay enough attention to your ass, huh?” she asks, pinching him again.

He hums.

“We could, you know, do more of that.” She sounds carefully disinterested, going to town on his glutes but not pushing in any other way.

He swallows. “Um. Maybe.” He’s blushing for some reason, but the pillows hide it.

“Cool. Turn over?”

This means the sex part is going to start, which is great since he’s been ready to go for the past half hour. The massage part is equally great, and he really needs it. He knows he’s the luckiest person in the entire world, because his best friend happened to have a massage and acupuncture certification as her fallback degree after he ruined her life. He’s doubly lucky that she still speaks to him, never mind has sex with him sometimes. Add in free massages and he’s basically won every lottery in the country.

He’s tried to return the favor, but she can get better from her coworkers, so he just pays her back in orgasms. Orgasms and journalistic brilliance, when he can manage it.

He turns over and she settles back over him, shifting his dick around so she’s comfortable, making him bite his lip almost bloody. She drives her knuckles in the front of his shoulders until he hisses.

“Are you doing the stretches I gave you?”

“Yeah. Sometimes.”

“So, only on the days that I remind you.”

He pouts. “Ow! Yes. Which is sometimes.”

She grinds her hips down on him so he chokes on his own spit. He tries to reach up to kiss her, suddenly very ready to move things along, but she leans over him and presses all her weight down on his shoulders. He tries to push her up, but he doesn’t have the core strength.

“Mean,” he whines. “Mean, mean, mean.”

“You like mean.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

She lets him up and grinds back down. “Hm. You really like mean.”

He catches her then, she lets him, and they lazily make out for a while. This is the best part about hooking up with his best friend. He’s not worried about being smooth or clever or impressive, he’s just enjoying the softness of her skin and her hips and the underside of her arms, the small but solid weight on top of him, her sharp teeth. Way back at the beginning—in college, when she was his kind-of advisor—he was always so bewildered that she was interested in him, always trying to do twelve things at once, to prove to her he was worth it, that he could be amazing. Calm down, kid, she’d laugh at him, pinning his arms over his head.

Now they just roll around, warm and comfortable in an angled patch of sunlight, heading vaguely towards sex.

“Hey,” she says, a little breathless as he sucks on her ear. “Can I sit on your face?”

“Fuck. Yes. Please.”

“Awesome.”

She crawls off him to take her underwear off. “Lan Ziyi never lets me sit on her face.”

Wei Ying laughs. “That’s what you get for dating a Lan.”

“We’re not dating . We’re just—hanging out.”

“Whatever. They’re all repressed.” He feels a flash of guilt. “Not repressed. Logical. It’s an illogical activity.”

“She’s good at other stuff.”

He doesn’t have to respond; she crawls up and settles on his chest, running her finger over his bottom lip. “Comfortable?” she asks.

He tugs her closer in response and sets to work. It’s one of his favorite activities, the overwhelm of it, being held down. He’s always trying to be steps ahead, to be good at things, to be vigilant, but when she’s riding his mouth and his chin and his tongue he forgets all of it and surrenders to the heat, the wet, the rhythm of her.

“Fuck, I’m gonna drown,” he mumbles against her.

“Huh?” she gasps, lifting herself up.

“I’m gonna drown.”

“What a way to go, though.” She smiles down at him, red-faced and panting, one hand against the wall, the other tugging at her nipple.

“Fuck yes.” He yanks her back down with a growl and loves the way her laugh gets broken by a groan.

“Can you scratch my back?” she asks. He reaches up and runs his nails lightly down her sides. “I mean hard. Can you scratch me hard?”

He reaches up her back as high as he can and rakes his nails down. She shudders on top of him.

“Thank you,” she gasps, and he blacks out for a moment.

He’s always had an unexplored thing for being thanked in bed. That one psych professor—or the doctors at the hospital that one time—would probably say something about his childhood, his desperate need for approval. In reality it probably has more to do with that one night in college, Lan Zhan pressed between him and the wall, panting “ Thank you, thank you ” into his ear.

Wen Qing slams her hand on the wall when she comes, sweet and hot over his lips. He imagines himself dripping with it, down his neck and his chest to his feet, soaking into his skin. She pulls away after a minute and shifts back down over him, kissing his whole face, his cheeks, licking him clean.

“Good?” he asks.

“Mmm,” is all she says, but it’s enough to make him preen a little.

She reaches over to his bedside drawer and grabs a condom, and he’s suddenly reminded of how painfully hard he is. After nearly an hour of ignoring it he’s certain he’ll pass out the second she touches him.

He doesn’t, but he does grab her hips and shut his eyes. When she sinks down on him—one smooth slide—his breath punches out and he surges up to hold onto her, to hold onto something. It’s fast and inelegant from there, loud and jerky and ragged and so incredibly good. She throws her head back when she comes again and he buries his face in her chest as he follows—a long, shaking, suspended moment.

After, he collapses back onto the pillows and she goes to the bathroom. The massage and the orgasm catch up with him and he’s nearly asleep by the time she comes back. She doesn’t leave, though, just pulls her underwear back on and curls around him. It’s got to be close to  five o’clock and they’re framed by the lowering sunlight, warm and golden.

“Sleep?” he mumbles. She shushes him and pulls up the blanket and he’s out.

A lake, a raft. Lotus flowers. Someone beside him, tapping his arm. A river, narrowing. Wind. Yanli talking behind him, saying . . . Trees by the riverbank, branches growing toward him, twisting, sharp fingernails inches from his skin. He’s standing in the mud. Alone. Not alone. Feet sunk into the mud, up to his ankles. Dry creek bed. Flies. A dozen people standing, frozen, staring at him. Eyes so wide, he can see the whites all the way around. Flies on their faces, crawling into their eyes. Darkness rising like a cloud, like fingers, grasping. He reaches out—

“Wei Ying!”

“— looked. I just looked. I just looked at them. I just looked .”

“Wei Ying! Stop, stop, Wei Ying.”

He throws himself off the bed, gasping, crouching against the wall, nails digging into his arms. His throat is aching, he’s been shouting.

“You’re okay,” Wen Qing says carefully. Her hands are held out to him like he’s a wild dog, something that could bite her.

“I’m okay,” he says, rough, wiping at his face.

“You’re back.”

“Yeah. Fuck.” He digs his fists into his eyes for a moment, pressing hard enough to see a starburst of light. “Fuck, fuck. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It’s not, it’s really not, he can hear it in her voice.

He sits back on the bed and runs his fingers through his hair. Wen Qing wraps herself in the blanket, watching him.

“I’m okay.”

She nods.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. No, it’s not that.” She looks away, blinks hard. “You were saying— You know, you were saying it again. Same thing.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I know. It’s not your fault.” She’s not looking at him, though, and where she holds onto the blanket her knuckles are white.

“Fuck,” he says again, like that can cover it, everything he owes her.

“It’s fine.” Her voice is tight. It always happens like this, his hurt doesn’t line up with hers, they’re not in unison. He covers one of her hands with his. She holds it, rubs her thumb over the back of it, where it’s rough and patchy. He’s not sure if it actually helps, feeling the scars, but it’s the best thing he has to say, Look, it already happened, it’s over.

She lets him go and goes into the bathroom. He flops down and holds a pillow over his face. It’s not as good a weight as her body, but it keeps him in one place and not breathing and it’s nice for a moment.

There was a time, in the direct aftermath of the war and the Bad Time, where he thought maybe they’d get back together. That maybe they had complementary damage, that their ripped out parts might fit and close up. But they hurt each other—unintentionally, but his shattered edges always cut her. Sometimes he lashes out in his sleep. And even when he doesn’t, it’s a chain reaction. He gets set off and reacts and it activates all the bad memories in her. It’s why she doesn’t spend the night anymore, why they never moved back in together after he got back from the hospital five years ago.

Five years. It should all be scar tissue by now. Nothing should be raw, pulsing, bleeding anymore.

What’s wrong with them, that they still bleed?

By the time she comes out he’s in his boxers and t-shirt again, fishing under the bed.

She sits down next to him, face wet and toweled dry, and tugs his comb through her hair. He pulls a half-empty bottle out from under the bed.

“You want?” He takes a sip from it.

“What’s that?”

“Bedroom whiskey.”

She raises her eyebrow. “To go with the desk whiskey and the couch whiskey?”

“And the bike whiskey, yes.” He gives her a salute. “Always be prepared.”

She rolls her eyes, but takes the bottle and drinks.

He stretches, twisting his spine. He tenses up so bad after a nightmare, it sucks when it happens after massage and sex. “You know,” he says. “There was a few weeks, back this summer, when I got sick anytime I drank. Like sick to my stomach, indigestion.”

“Probably had a bug.”

“Yeah. It freaked me out, though.” He takes another drink.

“Because you thought you’d have to quit?”

“No. ‘Cause I thought I didn’t like it anymore. Like listening to your favorite song and all of a sudden the singer’s off key. It was . . . unsettling. I didn’t really know what to do instead. It passed, though.”

“It’s gonna come bite you.”

“Someday, yeah.”

Her hair untangled, she gets up and goes to his closet. “Is my red sweater still here?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

She digs around. The right side of his closet is all hers—not a ton of clothes, just a collection of years of days like this.

“Plans?” he asks.

“I’m having dinner with Ziyi.”

“Aren’t you popular?” he teases.

“You should get out there. You know. Date around.”

He snorts and lays back down. “I’m not made for relationships.”

She stops digging through the closet and looks at him. “Wei Ying, you are tailor made for relationships. You were made in a lab, specifically, for a relationship.”

“If that was true I’d have more of them.”

“No. Your problem—”

“Oh, here we go.”

“Your problem is you’re so obsessed with being a partner, you never put any work into finding a partner. You just throw all this partner energy at people and they don’t know what to do with it.”

He throws his arm over his face.

“I’m right.” He can’t see her but he imagines she’s waving her finger at him like a grandma. “You just want to be dropped into a relationship three years in. You want to wake up with a spouse and kid and a mortgage payment due on Monday. You don’t want to do the awkward beginning stuff.”

He squints over at her. “I did it with you.”

She sighs. “A long time ago.”

“Yeah, but—”

“In the literal eighties , Wei Ying.”

He sighs. “You should wear the black sparkly thing.”

“Hmm.” She considers him like she might keep pushing, then lets it go. “The dress?” She pulls it out, holds it up thoughtfully. “Nah, it’s too cold. I don’t feel like wearing tights.”

She pulls on her jeans and the sweater, then twirls her hair up in a bun. He kind of wants to tell her to wear it down, or to ask if he can braid it. But it looks good like this, swept up, showing off her neck. It makes him want to kiss it, so it’s an effective style for a date.

“You look good,” he says. She smiles at him then, a real one, and things feel settled again. She gives him a kiss before she goes.

“Tomorrow night,” she says, pointing at him from the doorway. “I want that column and I want two new proposals for next week.”

“Sir yes sir.”

She snorts and goes. He takes another drink and then tucks the bottle back under the bed.

He goes out to his desk in the living room and pokes around at his column for a while—the beginning and the end are there, but he’s missing a connection in the middle. He’s rambling about cultivation again, potential civilian applications if the government ever allowed real scientists to study it. It’ll piss people off, particularly Jin Zixuan, but it’s his column and he’s used to it.

He accepts that he’s definitely stuck and goes to the kitchen to grab the phone. He’s old-fashioned, still not switched to cordless, so he hops up on the kitchen counter and twirls the cord as he listens to the ringer.

“ Hello! ” Yanli’s voice, cheerful and musical. “ Thank you for calling Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli! Oh! And little A-Ling! ” she laughs. “ We’re not available at the moment, but please leave a message with your phone number and we’ll be sure to call you back. Take care, we will speak to you soon! ”

He smiles and leans his head against the fridge.

“Hi Jiejie! I just wanted to hear your voice. A-Cheng went back to Yunmeng this week, so I’m all alone. Well, I’m not all alone, Wen Qing was just here. Do you remember when we all played that game—what was it? That card game. And you and Wen Qing just destroyed us. Jin Zixuan was so angry, it was so funny. How is A-Ling? Did he already read the books I sent him for his birthday? I’m sure he is a good reader with such a smart mama. Does he remember me? I know I haven’t visited . . . Well, I better go. Zixuan hates when I use up all the tape, I know. He’s so grumpy, your husband! That’s why he and A-Cheng get along so well. I’m all alone without you here.” He shuts his eyes, feels the cool of the fridge against his cheek. “Okay. I love you, Jiejie. Bye.”

He hops down and hangs up, contemplates a drink. Decides against it, which is some form of progress, probably.

He’s finally worked out the middle of the column when his buzzer goes. He blinks over at the window—somehow night fell, a while ago. The buzzer goes again, in rhythm. Bzzzzz bzt bzt bzt bzzzzzz.

“Yeah, yeah,” he yells, not that she can hear him. He doesn’t bother with the intercom, just buzzes her in and goes back to the computer. A-Qing slams the door open just as he’s triple-saving and digging around for a floppy to backup. He keeps everything saved in a couple of places now. He’s learned.

“Hey, kid,” he says.

She grunts at him and dumps her backpack on the ground, kicks off her shoes. The futon is more hers than his at this point, and she’s not shy about flopping down.

“Hungry?” he asks, tucking the backup of his backup into the hidden file on the bookshelf.

“I could eat.” Her voice sounds younger than she is. He’s not sure if it’s intentional, part of the act, or if she’ll just sound like a little kid her whole life.

“Want a shower?”

She sniffs at her armpit and scratches at her scalp. “Yeah, okay.”

She never asks for anything beyond the futon. When she stays with him, she never asks for food, for the shower, for an extra blanket or a sweatshirt. For the first month or so he never thought to offer anything until one night he was still working and she was asleep and her stomach growled so loudly he thought it was a dog. Since then he’s learned how to offer, to set things out in front of her to take if she wants.

He calls in their usual order and starts flipping through his stack of newspapers while she showers. He gets as many as he can from as far afield as will deliver to Yiling. He always reads the Gusu Herald first, old time’s sake. He makes a few notes on his steno pad, a couple stories that might lead somewhere interesting or might have a local angle. No one bothers to cover this far West, no one but him and Wen Qing, but there are a couple of national stories he might be able to work with.

A-Qing comes out in a pair of Wen Qing’s sweats and an old sweater of his, which is like a dress on her. He keeps a clean towel and something comfortable on the hamper in the bathroom every day, just in case. Her hair is wet and stringy around her face, she looks so little.

They ignore each other until the food comes. Sometimes she’s quiet and solitary, turning away from him and going to sleep. But sometimes, on a good day, after a little decompression time, she wants to talk.

“Whatcha writing about?” she asks around a mouthful of noodles.

“Mm. Not sure yet. Just finished my column for the week. About cultivation.”

“Again.”

He sticks out his tongue at her. “You want to read it?”

She doesn’t answer. He does this sometimes, pokes at her, tries to get her to admit she’s faking the blindness. She never really does. Six months ago, back at the beginning, he’d experimented with leaving the lights on, waiting for her to ask or turn them off herself, but she never did. It’s not that she doesn’t trust him. At least, he doesn’t think that’s it. She wouldn’t sleep in his apartment if she didn’t trust him. Probably.

There was one time he came stumbling out of his room after a nightmare, before he had bedroom whiskey, scrambling for a bottle and crying through the phantom pain in his arms and hands. She’d stood up and come over to him, keeping a wary distance but not scared.

“You look terrible,” she’d said. He’d snorted around his mouthful and gotten whiskey up his nose and choked and she’d laughed at him.

She has nightmares too, but they don’t bother each other too much. So the partial blindness or completely fake blindness or whatever it is ends up just another thing they don’t talk about.

Now he considers her as they eat. “You go to school this week?”

She shrugs. “A little bit. It’s boring. They keep me at the back, there’s nothing to do. Teacher Wang keeps saying they’re getting a classroom aide for me, when they have the budget. I’ll be gone before then.”

“Where will you go?”

She shrugs again. “Dunno. Nowhere. Not school.” She drops her empty takeout container on the coffee table and flops down on the futon, propping her feet up on the back. She grabs a pen from the table and starts spinning it through her fingers, deft and controlled, not looking at it. Times like this he remembers what a good pickpocket she is.

He cleans up and gets an orange and a knife from the kitchen.

“Does it help getting what you need?” he asks casually, slicing it. “Being blind, I mean.”

“Kind of.” He hands her an orange slice and she eats it thoughtfully, licking the juice off her fingers. “I’m old now.”

He snorts. She glares over at him.

“I am. When you’re a kid, a little kid, people give you stuff because they feel bad, because you’re small. Because you’re cute, or you’re pitiful. Nobody wants to give anything to a teenager. I look like a teenager now, I think.” She looks over at him.

“I guess. You’re still pretty small.”

“How old were you?”

“When I was on the street? Really small. I got adopted at like six, I think. My birthday’s made up, so I’ve never been sure.”

“I got adopted when I was six, too.”

He stops slicing. “You had a family?”

She nods. “It didn’t last.” He gives her another slice. “When you’re little, and they catch you, people will smack you around, but a teenager—people want to teach you a lesson. People want to give you a limp or something, a scar maybe. Set an example.”

His instinct is to ask Who? and then head out with a bat, but he stamps it down. He remembers the slaps, the kicks, the dogs. But he was tiny and smiley, and no one wanted him hurt badly, not really. They just wanted him gone.

“But being blind helps?” He hands her another orange slice. She sticks it in her mouth and smiles around the peel.

“Mm-hmm.” She chews. “For now. But I’m getting too old. I’ll have to get a baby or something.”

His knife slips. “Fucking—” He sticks his bleeding thumb in his mouth and points the knife at her. “Do not get a baby.”

She purses her lips. “It’s one of the best things you can do. People always give to a baby. Babies are a great distraction.”

“Yeah, but then you have to feed it and take care of it. Never mind getting —” he waves the thought away, too disturbing. “It’d be a wash. Babies are expensive.”

“Is that why you don’t have any? Too broke?”

“Ha ha.”

She scoots so her hair is hanging off the edge of the futon, kicking her feet up on the wall.

“Don’t digest upside down,” he scolds, sounding like Ms. Yu. “You’ll puke.” He goes to the bathroom for a band-aid.

“What if you could rent a baby? Like just for a couple hours? Do you think people do that?”

He pokes his head out of the bathroom. “You could just get a really convincing puppet.”

She laughs, loud and delighted. She’s missing a couple of back teeth, which he can only see when she actually laughs.

He straightens up the towels, the bottles she knocked over, and moves to put his comb away. “Do you want—” he clears his throat and goes to the door. “I could braid your hair. If you want.”

She stops laughing and looks at him.

“It won’t tangle, then. If you want.”

She considers him, then turns right-side up. “You know how to braid?”

“Yeah. It’s not hard.”

“Okay.” She plops down on the ground. He comes and settles behind her. It’s weird to be this close, suddenly, but she’s not tense or uncomfortable, picking at the fibers in his shitty old rug.

“Do you have a tie?” She holds up her wrist to show him the rubber band. “Okay, scootch up a bit.”

He starts combing her hair from the bottom, careful not to pull.

“It was my uncle who taught me. How to braid my jiejie’s hair.”

“You had an uncle?”

He hums. “Yeah. He adopted me. I guess technically his wife did too, but she wasn’t really like my auntie. I think maybe I called her Auntie when I was really little, but . . . I don’t know. I’ve got a bad memory.”

“My memory’s really good.” She says it seriously, like it’s an admission of something.

“Yeah, I bet.”

A silence settles, but not a bad one. He can feel her breathing where she’s leaning against his shins. It’s nice, alive. It reminds him oddly of when A-Ling was first born, the first night Yanli let him babysit by himself. The hours he spent humming little songs, rocking him, smelling his head, listening to his snuffles and squeaks, watching him dream. The warm weight against his chest. Like a fresh baked potato , he’d told Yanli, and she’d laughed.

Suddenly, quietly, she speaks. “I had a family.”

He waits, combs.

“I had two uncles. And a cat.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They adopted me when I was six.”

“Was it good? Having uncles?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He starts braiding, trying something complicated to make it last longer. He always liked people playing with his hair.

“They weren’t bullshitters. Sometimes the foster families are so full of it. They act like they’re going to keep you forever even when they know they’re not. I don’t like those. They’re worse than the children’s home, or the ones who just ignore you.”

He waits.

“They weren’t like that. Uncle Song always called me Little Shit.”

Wei Ying grins. “Suits you.”

“The cat was named Little Pig.” She runs her thumb over the corner of the coffee table where the wood’s worn down. “Uncle Xiao was blind.”

He pauses. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Is that how you learned?”

She shrugs. “I guess. He was good at everything. People would try to do stuff for him all the time, but he never needed help. Sometimes he’d let them, so they’d feel good. That’s what he told me. He said sometimes you have to let people help you, even if you don’t need it, because sometimes people need to help someone.”

“Sounds smart.”

“Yeah, he was smart. Uncle Song said he was too nice.”

“Ms. Yu used to say that about my uncle, too. She always said people were going to take advantage of him.”

She laughs. “That’s what Uncle Song would say.”

He undoes the braid and starts over.

“Did your uncle die in the war?” She asks it quietly, chewing on her fingernail.

“Yeah. My aunt, too. He worked in the government, and Qishan came to Yunmeng early on. You probably don’t remember it. We had a big— Well, it was our house but then a bunch of other buildings. Like a compound. Ms. Yu had a textile business, she worked out of Lotus Pier and a lot of workers lived there. And Wen Chao thought it would be a good base, so he— It was early, so they thought they could fight him off. Nobody knew how big the army was. I don’t know if you— Wen Chao was one of Wen Ruohan’s sons. He was a dick. I don’t know what they teach you about it in school.”

She shrugs. He tilts her head back for a better angle. Her eyes are closed.

“That’s what happened at our house, too.”

“Hmm?”

“The army wanted to take the house. They came at night. I think I was eight? It was a long time ago. My uncles said no. They said to leave us alone.”

He swallows. “Yeah.”

“The killed Uncle Xiao. They wanted Uncle Song to see. That’s what the guy said, the guy in charge. I could hear them from the doorway. And Uncle Song said no, and they shot him too. And then I went outside, and they pointed their guns at me.” She holds up her hand, fingers out like a gun. “But the guy in charge said no. He said, ‘It’s just a kid.’ And I didn’t look down at them on the ground. Uncle Song always said, ‘Just look where you’re going. When you’re scared just look straight where you’re going.’ So I didn’t look down. And they said, ‘Look, she can't see.’ They said, ‘The kid can’t see.’ and they let me just keep walking.”

Wei Ying closes his eyes, tight.

“I forgot Little Pig though. I should have taken her with me.”

He leans forward to press his forehead to the top of her hair, just lightly. She rubs her nose on her sleeve.

“That’s the secret to being blind, anyways.”

He swallows. “What is?”

“Just look where you’re going.” She holds her arm out again, pointing. “Look straight ahead, and don’t let your eyes touch anything.”

Don’t let your eyes touch anything. People in the creek bed, flies on faces.

He looks down at his wrist, the spot where one of the scars curves like a ragged half moon, like a melon with a bite out of it. His hands are shaking.

“Tie?” he says instead of anything else.

She pulls the rubber band off her wrist and hands it back to him. He ties off the braid and pats it. He can’t hug her, or anything like that, so he just pats her hair.

“Do you want an extra blanket?”

She stretches and gets up. “It’s not that cold.”

“Still.”

“Yeah, okay.”

He goes into his room for the blanket and sits down on the bed for a moment, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. His ribs itch, his lungs are tied up in rubber bands. He considers the bottle under the bed, but doesn’t reach for it.

She’s curled under her one blanket when he gets back. He thinks for a second about spreading the extra one over her, tucking it under her chin, but he doesn’t. He leaves it folded by her feet. She doesn’t say anything, just watches him.

“Do you want the light on?” he asks, standing by her feet.

She shakes her head.

“Okay.” He scratches his nose. “Good night, A-Qing.”

“Night, boss.”

It makes him smile, a little. He checks the door locks, pulls the curtains closed, turns off the lamp. The light from the kitchen reaches into the living room—it can barely be called a separate room, anyway. He goes to the kitchen and fills a glass with water, leaves it on the coffee table. Just in case. He watches her for a moment from the kitchen door, holding on to the light switch. She doesn’t say anything, and he starts to feel creepy, so he turns out the light and goes to bed. He lays on his back and looks up at the streetlights filtering in through the curtains and tries to think about nothing.

Part Four

[ambivalent-anarchy]

Star Wars 101

Masterlist

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: None

Reader has never seen a single one of Peter's favorite movies.

A/N- I really need to stop making new series lol, I swear this is the last new one for a while, at least until I finish some other ones.

Hope you like it!!!

---------------------------------------

"In case I don't see you... good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight!"

Peter watched you intently as you stared, wide eyes glued to each and every movement on the screen, even sniffling a bit when the credits began to roll. Really? The Truman Show was making you tear up?

"[Y/N], really?," he snickered lightly, wiping one of your cheeks and then showing you the wetness on his finger. He gave a teasing smile as he moved to take the DVD out. "I understood when you cried during the Titanic, but this is just The Truman Show."

"Don't judge me!," you scolded, cheeks quickly becoming red with embarrassment. "It was frickin' sad! The dude's been stuck in a tv show his whole life and he didn't even know it! That's freaky!"

"It's a Jim Carrey movie," Peter laughed. "How can you cry at a Jim Carrey movie?"

You rolled your eyes and turned away, trying to hide your growing grin. Who was Peter Parker to judge you on how you react to movies anyway? At least this was just a movie. Peter got flustered with everything in real life!

"-And a movie as crappy as this particular Jim Carrey movie too!," he smirked.

You turned around with a loud, overdramatic gasp. "What was that, Parker? Did you just call one of my favorite movies CRAPPY?!"

Peter turned from the DVD player with a small, innocent smile and nodded his head vigorously before sprinting away as he predicted that you would chase after him.

He was right.

"How dare you!," you yelled, quickly jumping into action. "Jim Carrey may be a bit of an overacter, but he's still AWESOME!!"

You were high on adrenaline, running after him with all you had, but it didn't take you long for you to realize that chasing Peter in his own house was a bad idea. It was his home. He knew it like the back of his hand. And you, however, did not.

You bumped into every other corner. The more you ran the more bruises you were probably getting. Until finally after hitting your hip on the kitchen counter, frustrated, you squeezed your eyes shut tight and yelled out, "YOU DON'T HEAR ME JUDGING YOUR CRAPPY STAR WARS MOVIES!!!"

You hadn't seen where he came from or how he got you, but in an instant, Peter was smack dab in your face. "What did you just say?"

Quickly coming to a stop, the corners of your mouth twitched upwards, knowing you'd just hit a nerve. "I said, you don't hear me judging your crappy star wars movies."

He stared, stunned, for a second. ".. you did not just say that," he whispered, more to himself than to you. He turned towards you. "You did not just call one of the best franchises in the universe crappy."

You turned away with a smirk before he gently grabbed you by your arm and whirled you back around. "[Y/N]. Star Wars is ICONIC!"

You rolled your eyes with a light giggle and turned to walk away before you were whirled around again. His eyes looked right into yours, his face holding an extremely serious expression, which of course was nothing but hilarious to you. "Dude, I'm NOT letting you leave this kitchen before you give me a valid reason why Star Wars is bad to you."

You sighed loudly. So he's holding you hostage now, is he? Well, two could play at that game. "Not until you tell me why The Truman Show was so bad," you shot back.

Unfortunately for you, Peter was ready with his reasons.

You stared, dumbfounded as he read them off. "Predictable. Took too long to get where it was trying to go. When it finally got there, it didn't give an actual satisfying ending! Did Sylvia find him after that or not?! And what point was the movie trying to make about the world anyway? That really wasn't clear. Also, I couldn't tell whether some parts were funny or them just trying too hard to be serious. Should I go on?"

"N-no no, you're good," you chirped, your voice cracking a bit. "Didn't know you were such a harsh critic, Pete."

"And your reasons?," Peter asked with a shit-eating grin. He knew you didn't have any.

You scrunched your eyebrows together and stared up to the ceiling. "Umm," you mumbled before you blurted out. "It just seems like classic NERD crap, honestly okay?!?!?!"

Peter dramatically threw his hand to his chest, as if he'd been stabbed. "Ah, you hurt me, babe. How could you?"

You rolled your eyes. "Can we just go back to watching movies, Pete?! My hip frickin' hurts." You shifted slightly while rubbing the your hip with your hand, trying to relieve the pain. Peter noticed and immediately the previous topic of conversation was dropped.

"A-are you okay?! C'mon, let's go sit down.."

You breathed a breath of relief. Thankfully, a dumbass situation stopped due to Peter's relentless helpfulness and need to be a gentleman.

-

An hour later and you were watching Mean Girls now, something both you and Peter could agree on, especially after he'd told you he'd never seen it before.

And how could he have never seen Mean Girls? It was ICONIC!

"Gretchen, stop trying to make fetch happen. It's NOT going to happen..."

"I don't like this Regina character," Peter mumbled as he reached for more popcorn.

"You wouldn't," you chuckled softly.

Peter Parker was a sap and an overall nice guy. Regina George was probably not a character that he would be caught fanboying over.

"I mean," he started again, squinting his eyes at the character on the screen. "Villain characters are supposed to be BADASS. She's just rude."

You threw your head back and laughed, ruffling his hair. "Only you would think that way, Pete."

"And this Cady character," he continued. "She can't honestly think she's doing all of this and is still a good person. How is she a proper protagonist?"

You rolled your eyes and smiled. You hadn't noticed until actually watching a few movies with Peter how much of a movie critic he was. And he took it seriously. "Okay, that's enough rotten tomatoes for one movie, Pete."

Peter shrugged, rolled his eyes, and laid back on the couch. "I'm just calling it like I see it."

He kept quiet after that, just giving grunts, hums, and muttering things at choice times.

When your favorite part came along, Regina getting hit by the bus, you bit your lip with a smile. "Oooh, wait for it," you said lightly slapping Peter's shoulder excitedly. "She's gonna get it."

"So don't act all innocent! You can take that fake apology and shove it right up your hairy-"

Just as the part you were waiting for came, Peter paused the tv.

Quickly, you turned to him, eyes wide. "What'd you do that for?!?! She was gonna get smashed!"

He turned towards you, narrowing his eyes slightly. "So you've never watched Star Wars before?"

You turned to face him. "What?"

"What you said earlier... You said that it seems like nerdy crap," he explained, piecing it all together. " Seems! Meaning that you don't know for a fact meaning that you haven't watched it!"

"Are we seriously still on that,?!" you teased, your smile widening. This whole thing was beyond frivolous to you.

"Well yeah, because it's one of the greatest series ever!"

"It's predictable!"

"It is known for one of the biggest reveals in cinematic HISTORY!"

"What, the 'I-am-your-father' scene? Yeah, totally predictable."

Peter's jaw completely dropped. "Wha- how?!"

"Y'know Vader in German means father, right?," you snickered. "His name is literally Darth father." You picked up a soda, shaking your head slightly. "But yeah, if you must know... I haven't seen Star Wars."

Peter stopped responding. He just stood up and stepped away silently.

"Are you seriously mad over this?," you yelled out, watching him with a frown. "It's just a movie..."

Was he brooding right now? Over something as dumb as Star Wars? Well, you certainly weren't gonna be the person to go after him.

You whipped your head back to the screen in front of you and unpaused the movie, waiting for your friend to come back to sit next to you. It was official, Peter Parker was a nerd bitch.

As the movie went on, eventually you'd forgotten that Peter was even gone.

"The limit does not exist!"

It sucked that he left, but still though, you wouldn't rather be anywhere else. Surrounded by popcorn, pretzels, fruit, fruit roll ups, and practically any snack you could think of. Endlessly watching movies on a Saturday morning. Well, technically it was the afternoon now. But you'd lost track of time by about the sixth movie.

However, there was only so much movies could do for you. As time passed on, it started to weigh on you. You'd come there to see Peter, not Mean Girls. But if there was one thing to get on a nerd's nerves, it would be Star Wars wouldn't it?

Ugghhhhh.

After much anticipation, you finally decided to go up to his room and talk to him.

You turned to walk up the stairs and was immediately collided with a big wall.

Well not a wall, Peter.

And not just Peter. Peter with a gigantic box in his arms.

"Sorry it took me so long, didn't mean to leave you waiting. I was just just trying to find this," he said, tapping the cardboard box with his fingers. "So did you finish the movie?"

"Yeah," you said, looking at the box. "What's in it?"

"Guess I'll finish it myself later then..." He pushed past you and sat the box on the couch.

"What's in the box, Peter?," you repeated, trying to get a good look at it.

"Oh nothing," he said dramatically, taking the Mean Girls DVD out of the DVD player. "Just what will soon be the best 25 hours of your life.."

"25 hours?"

Peter smiled. "That's how long the entire Star Wars trilogy is." He picked up the box cutter. "24 hours and 52 mintues actually, if you're doing the original editions of the original trilogy instead of the special edition." He turned back towards you. "You need a movie-cation and I'm gonna give it to you."

"A movie-cation?"

"Movie education, [Y/N]."

You held your head back and laughed. "Oh my God, Pete.."

He was on his knees in front of you in a second. "C'mon!! Please, it's the best. I promise you won't regret it!"

Ugh. This was it. You were gonna do this. Force yourself through 25 (24: 52, but who's counting?) hours of boredom just to please some guy that wasn't even your boyfriend. I mean, he was practically begging you. God help you.

"Fine! Fine.. I'll watch your lame nerd movie."

---------------------------------------

@underoosjae @spn-assemble-seven @of-your-eyes-begonia-skies @parkerpeter24, @audreylovespidey706

[perlukafarinn]

4 + 39, Destiel, obviously

Mistaken for a couple + Kid ficThis got really long (2.4k words) but I have no regrets.

In October, Dean has an unremarkable one night stand with a woman named Lydia. He doesn’t hear from her again but eleven months later, he’s suddenly a single father to a baby girl who just survived the car crash that killed her mother.

It’s a lot of change in a short amount of time, especially considering he doesn’t know of Emma’s existence until he gets the call from the hospital. He’s responsible for a whole ass person now - a tiny, fragile person who won’t stop crying and who screams bloody murder whenever Dean tries to put her in a car seat.

The little hypocrite is fine with the bus, so Dean resigns himself to public transport for the next while. Dealing with dirty looks from his fellow passengers as Emma cries her head off is easier than the alternative. At least it’s regular crying, not those demonic shrieks she makes in the car.

“Maybe you’re holding her wrong.”

Dean glares at Cas, who’s in the seat next to him. He’s been taking the bus with them ever since Dean brought Emma home, and although Dean is grateful for the company that doesn’t mean he’s gonna put up with unsolicited criticisms.

“Maybe you should shove it.”

“Hand her over,” Cas says, ignoring him.

Dean hesitates but then complies. Maybe the tiny bit of distance will make the endless crying more bearable. 

Cas takes her carefully into his arms, supporting her head like the nurse at the hospital had shown Dean and cradling her to his chest. He bounces her just slightly and then, miracle of miracles, her crying starts to die down.

Dean stares at him in wonder. “How did you do that?”

Cas shrugs. He’s looking down at Emma with a small, gentle smile and Dean feels something in his chest clench at the sight.

“What a sweet girl you two have,” coos a woman sitting across the aisle from them.

It takes Dean a moment to realize she’s misinterpreted the situation. He wonders if he should correct her but before he can, Cas answers, “Thank you.”

Unfortunately, the woman takes that as her cue to continue the conversation. “Did you adopt?”

“No,” Cas responds dryly. “Dean forgot the condom.”

“O-oh.”

She stops bothering them after that and a couple of stops later, she’s off.

“So,” Dean says as soon as she’s gone, “is it an open relationship or did I cheat?”

“You cheated,” Cas answers without hesitating. “Hussy.”

*

The zoo is Emma’s favorite place in the world. Dean’s not crazy about it himself but he’s a sucker for those big blue eyes of hers so they go every week - twice, if Emma’s feeling fussy.

Cas always joins them, even though he must have better things to do. Dean expected his social life to suffer since becoming a single parent, and it has, but he’s seen more of Cas in the past few months than in the last three years combined.

(It probably helps that Cas is divorced now - Daphne never could stand Dean.)

It’s early Saturday afternoon but the slight drizzle keeps most people away. Dean has Emma strapped to his chest, shielding her from the rain with an umbrella, but he gets the feeling she wouldn’t notice it anyway. Their first stop is one of the monkey cages and Emma is captivated, shrieking with laughter and babbling cheerful nonsense at the unimpressed looking monkeys.

“I don’t get why she’s so obsessed with those things,” Dean says.

“I do.” Cas crouches, holding out a finger to Emma who grasps it in her chubby hand. “It’s because she’s a monkey herself.”

“Don’t listen to him, Em,” Dean tells his daughter, taking her unoccupied hand and kissing it. “You’re the cutest little girl in the world.”

Cas straightens and shoots him a wry smile. “Is that why you put that bow in her hair? Or is it because of that woman who told you how handsome your son is?”

Dean pats Emma’s head, careful not to disturb the pink bow clinging precariously to a few strands of hair. That woman was not the first person to confuse Emma for a boy, probably because most of her clothes are hand-me-downs from Cas’ nephew, Jack.

“No,” he lies, because he’s not up for another one of Cas’ lectures about how gender is a construct.

They watch the monkeys a while longer, since Emma can’t seem to get enough of them. The drizzle is starting to turn into proper rain so Cas huddles close, underneath Dean’s umbrella

Eventually, Dean decides they need to check out the rest of the zoo. He begins to walk away from the cage but Emma starts immediately wailing, reaching both hands out to the monkeys.

“Let her stay a little longer,” Cas says.

“If it were up to her, we’d never leave. We can’t give in every time she starts crying, she’ll stop as soon as she sees something else she likes.”

“Ten more minutes.”

Dean rolls his eyes but relents. Next to him, a woman who just arrived with her baby in a stroller laughs.

“Sucks to have to be the strict one, huh?” she asks. 

“Oh, we’re not-” Dean cuts himself off, because why bother. “Yeah, it does.”

“My husband is just as bad,” she confides. “He would let this one get away with murder if it weren’t for me.”

Dean hums. Cas isn’t paying attention to the conversation, too busy reading the plaque in front of the cage.

“I would have figured it would be twice as bad with two daddies, but you seem to be doing okay.”

“Yeah, sure.”

The woman cranes her neck, peering curiously around Dean at Cas. “Which one of you is her real dad?”

A shot of annoyance goes through Dean and he answers without thinking, “We’re both her real dads.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“I don’t. Cas,” Dean adds a little louder. “C'mon, let’s check out the tapirs.”

Emma starts wailing again as they walk away but like Dean predicted, she stops as soon as she spots something else to occupy her interest - in this case, a big rock.

“We’re both her real dads?” Cas asks.

Dean blushes. “Sorry. I just hate it when people talk about family not being real, just because you’re not related by blood.”

“I know.”

“Didn’t mean to drag you into it.”

“It’s fine. I do consider you and Emma to be my family.”

Dean swallows past the lump that’s suddenly formed in his throat. “Yeah. Well. Right back at you.”

He ignores the flutter of hope in his chest. That way only lies danger.

*

Dean is expecting some tears on Emma’s first day of pre-school. If not from her, then from himself. Surprisingly, they both handle it well. Emma stumbles off without saying goodbye when she spots a slide on the playground and although Dean gets a little misty-eyed, he keeps it together.

Then he turns to Cas, who is noticeably distressed.

Dean nudges him. “You okay, buddy?”

“Yes, I’m-” Cas clears his throat and Dean pretends not to notice when he wipes away a tear. “I’m fine.”

“It’s only a few hours. I’m sure you can handle it.”

Cas shoots him a glare. “I’m going to wait in the car.”

He walks off and Dean feels a little bad for teasing but not enough to actually go and apologize. 

Emma’s new teacher walks up to him. “This is nothing unusual,” she says, gesturing at Cas’ retreating back. “But Emma is adjusting remarkably well.”

“Yeah, she’s a champ,” Dean says, chest swelling with pride. He can still see Emma from here, toddling her way up the short steps to the slide. 

“Will you or your partner be picking her up? Or both of you?”

Emma slides down, stumbling as she lands but managing to stay on her feet. She shrieks in delight, running back around to the steps to go again.

“Hm?”

“Sorry, husband.”

Dean turns to the teacher, attention caught by that word. “What?”

“Which one of you will be picking up Emma?” she asks again. “You or your husband?”

Dean stares at her blankly for a moment. “Me,” he finally answers. “My - uh, my husband is working late.”

Later, once he’s taken care of all the formalities with the teacher and has said goodbye to Emma, Dean heads back to the car and wonders why he didn’t correct her. Why he went along with her mistake.

Why the hell the word ‘husband’ sounded so good when applied to Cas.

*

On Emma’s second birthday, Dean discovers that strangers aren’t the only ones who have been mistaking him and Cas for a couple.

He’s in his kitchen, putting away all the dirty dishes from Emma’s party. The birthday girl herself is taking a nap and although most of the guests have gone home, a few still linger in the living room, talking quietly among themselves.

He’s just about done loading the machine and putting the leftovers away when Mom joins him.

“Bobby and I are about to head home,” she tells him. “Just wanted to say goodbye.”

Dean closes the fridge and walks over to hug her. She’s smiling at him when they part, eyes shining. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says. She clears her throat, pats Dean’s chest. “I’m just… really happy for you, sweetie.”

“Mom,” Dean says, putting his hand over hers. “Have you been drinking?”

Mom snorts, swatting him. “I mean it, kid. I was so worried about you when you got the call about Emma but you’ve handled the situation better than I could have hoped for.”

Dean shrugs, uncomfortable at the deluge of sincere praise. This is the kind of emotional honesty members of the Winchester family don’t usually engage in unless somebody’s on their deathbed. 

“She’s lucky to have you,” Mom continues. “And you’re both lucky to have Castiel. I’m glad you’ve all found each other.”

Dean’s stomach sinks. He searches Mom’s expression for any hint of a joke but she looks completely serious. 

“Mom… I don’t have Cas. We’re not together.”

“…You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Mom blinks. “But you’re…” She huffs. “I don’t understand.”

“Sorry?” Dean scratches the back of his neck. “I dunno what to tell you, we’re just friends.”

Neither one of them speaks, the silence between them growing awkward.

“I’m… gonna go,” Mom finally says. “Just forget I said anything about Castiel.”

“Okay,” Dean says, knowing full well he’s not gonna be able to.

Strangers thinking he and Cas are involved is one thing. But Mom? Maybe it’s time for Dean to reevaluate the way they come off to people. The last thing he needs is for Emma to get confused about the situation.

*

Dean considers bringing it up with Cas but it’s just too awkward and in the end, very little reevaluating is done. Dean likes that they’re close, even if they’re never as close as he actually wants. He doesn’t wanna lose any part of what he and Cas have, doesn’t want anything to change between them.

So he says nothing, and things stay the same. 

The conversation with Mom is all but forgotten a few months later. Dean is working late, so Cas offers to picks Emma up from pre-school. They’re both kneeling around the coffee table in the living room when Dean comes home, drawing with crayons on the blank pages of Emma’s coloring book.

Dean feels ten different kinds of warm and fuzzy at the sight of them and he can’t help but smile. Cas looks up, finally noticing him, and answers with a gummy smile of his own. 

“You staying for dinner?” Dean asks, ignoring the way his heart just skipped a beat.

“Mhm,” Emma hums without looking up from the coloring book.

“I suppose I am,” Cas agrees.

He stays for dinner and then he stays after, helping Dean get Emma to bed. Even once she’s asleep, he stays and does the dishes while Dean throws a load in the laundry. 

Neither one of them says anything, but by the time they’re done with the chores and collapse on the couch in front of the TV it’s clear that he’s not going home to sleep. It’s not the first time he’s staying the night, or even the fiftieth - it’s become something of a habit since Dean got Emma. The guest room is basically Cas’ room by now. 

They channel surf until Cas makes Dean stop on some competitive reality show about blowing glass. Dean becomes invested despite himself but even then, he’s exhausted and the couch is very soft and inviting.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep but when he wakes up, his head is laying on Cas’ shoulder and Cas is slumped against him, snoring softly. It’s dark outside and the only source of light is from the television, now showing a late night talk show with the volume off.

Dean sits up, jostling Cas awake. For a moment, they just look at each other, both smiling sleepily. Then Dean, forgetting for a moment everything they are and everything they aren’t, leans in and kisses him.

It’s not a first kiss. It isn’t tentative, or curious, or impatient and passionate. It’s a routine kiss, the kind you give a partner you’ve been with for a while, brief but assured and loving.

He pulls away and it’s not until he sees Cas’ face that his brain finally catches up with him. 

“Shit,” he mutters, recoiling. “Cas, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

He moves to get up, but Cas grabs his hand, holding him still. He doesn’t look shocked or disturbed. Dean can’t read his expression at all, can’t tell what that searching look in his eyes means.

“Don’t apologize,” he finally says. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for ten years.”

Dean’s jaw goes slack. “Wh- ten years?” 

“Yes,” Cas says, matter-of-factly. Then, “I’m going to kiss you again, if you don’t mind.”

Dean doesn’t mind. He very, very much doesn’t mind, especially with the way Cas’ hand cups the back of his neck, thumb rubbing the sensitive skin behind his ear before he leans in, kissing Dean with gentle pressure and precision. Or the way he licks the seams of his lips until he opens them, turning the kiss a little filthy and sending bolts of heat dancing down to Dean’s gut.

They part, and something occurs to Dean.

“Wait, is that why Daphne hated me?”

Cas laughs. He’s so close, Dean can feel the way it rumbles in his chest warm and low. “No, actually. She thought you drank too much.”

Then he’s kissing Dean again, and the conversation is officially over.

*

It isn’t until he’s in a relationship with Cas that Dean realizes he was basically in a relationship with Cas already.

Seems he was the one misunderstanding things all along.

[ah-sh1t-here-we-go]

Welcome to Therapy

Hi, hello, welcome. Today I’m gonna talk about everything in my life that sucks. Feel free to come along for the journey. 

Let’s start with the obvious: Covid. Greetings lockdown #973, oh how I’ve missed you. Now here’s the thing, generally speaking, I rather enjoy lockdowns. It gives me an excuse to work from home and just not leave the house. My ferrets get to be out of their cage a lot more, I get to cuddle with them a lot more. It’s a great arrangement. I also don’t have any friends here (which is another therapy point that we’ll get to) so restrictions and shit don’t bother me. But this lockdown in particular couldn’t have come at a worse time. 

My birthday is June 2nd and I had some great plans. I was gonna go book shopping, op shopping, I had an appointment to get my septum pierced, I was gonna take myself for some nice lunch. Guess I’m not doing any of that now. Oh, and my mum was gonna fly over from Perth to visit too. So, I can kiss all of that goodbye. And this isn’t the first birthday I’ve had to spend alone because of Covid. I had to spend my 21st alone last year too. So this is great. 

So, that sucks. But you know what else sucks about this lockdown? I STILL HAVE TO WORK AT THE FUCKING OFFICE! Why?! My boss was like “*british man voice* oh, fantastic. We get to keep working from the office because that was one of the exceptions.” So I don’t even get to have extra ferret cuddles! What a load of bullshit! 

I mentioned having no friends earlier. That’s going to be therapy point number two, let’s go. I made the dumb decision to move to Melbourne in March last year just before Covid really hit. Now, yes, I will be using that excuse as to why I still have no friends here. It sure isn’t because I have the social skills of a turnip and the confidence of a squirrel. Ordinarily, it doesn’t bother me to be alone but I went to SupaNova on Saturday and that was really upsetting. 

As a little bit of backstory, I have been to every SupaNova/Comic Con since I was 14 with my family and my friends. I would go with my mum, step-dad, little brother, and like 3-6 friends. I’d never been to a convention by myself until Saturday. I didn’t cosplay either, which was also a bit weird. Seeing everyone else there so happy and loud with their friends really made me feel so alone. Being in a place I’d never been before also made me nervous. Unfortunately, to compensate, I spent way more money than I should have and fed the capitalist worms that eat my brain. 

Saturday was a particularly hard day because that was also the day my family dog was put down. I’ve already made a post about him but he was my fifth birthday present so we had him for 16 years. I knew he was on the way out when I saw him last Christmas but having Mum tell me that he was finally laid to rest has really affected me. I start crying randomly. It’s like I just spontaneously remember that I’m never going to be able to see my dog again. It hurts but I know it’ll pass. 

My home life hasn’t been great at the moment either. Which probably sounds ridiculous considering I live alone but it really has been a struggle. I have no motivation. I can barely get myself to do things that make me happy, let alone cooking for myself or cleaning up after myself. Don’t even get me started on the state of the things the ferrets have touched. Last night, I didn’t make dinner. Not necessarily a problem but considering I didn't have lunch or breakfast either I’d say it’s a bit of an issue. I took myself to bed at 7 after a shower because “there was nothing else to do”. Obviously not true. I couldn’t sleep either though, and my stomach starts to give me the worst pain by 9pm. I still didn’t want to cook so I just made one of my microwave meals. I couldn’t finish eating it though, it was too much. 

I just think that when you can’t even be motivated to watch tv someone thing has to be wrong and I can barely get through an episode. 

[ignisgalaxia]

I usually stay as far away from politics as possible because it’s nothing but a shitshow, but I need to get my turbulent thoughts out there. I apologize for how long this post is going to be. For anyone that reads this, thank you for taking the time listen to me.

On Saturday I went to a gun show with my father. I wasn’t particularly interested, but I’ve wanted to have a day out with him for a while so we went. The sheer amount of old white men, without masks of any kind, was unbelievable (both my dad and I had masks on). But the worst part was their almost complete support and faith in Donald Trump. I overheard one man talking to a potential buyer saying how he would always support Trump and how all Democrats are trash. There was even a dollar bill for sale with his face printed on it. I had the thought of buying it just so I could set it on fire, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of giving my money for that.

We were only there for about half an hour, but that was too much time for me. We drove to a hardware store afterwards because my dad had to buy a tool. I stayed in the car and cried.

I wish I could express how wrong it felt being around those people. Usually I would just chalk it up to my anxiety, but while I’m sure that played a part, I figured out it was the realization that those people were so blinded and misguided. They truly believed they were following a saint.

And yet despite expressing my valid concerns, my dad still decided to vote for Trump.

He made some big speech about how the Democrats do not support his beliefs, their policies are actively supporting citizens who refuse to work/contribute to society (and how they’re abusing his hard-earned tax money), they’re trying to take his God-given right to bear arms (which yes I agree is extreme but the right’s policy is not any better), and so on. He was quite clear that voting left goes against what he believes in and that Biden is a nut job.

When I brought up that Trump was racist, he went on a tangent about how everybody is racist in some capacity because of how society raised them. We both agreed that it’s an unfortunate aspect that might never go away, but when I asked if he had ever experienced such prejudice, he said not really.

This coming from a man who is a Central American immigrant.

I’m not saying my dad is stupid. He’s actually much more sensible than most Republicans. I’m saying he doesn’t know the treatment that most of his race has experienced. He and I can very easily pass as white, and I acknowledge that is a privilege. But because of this, he doesn’t see the damage Trump’s attitude does to those of his race, especially immigrants.

That was the extent of our conversation before I became so pissed I didn’t want to talk anymore. I didn’t even get to the fact that he’s a giant misogynist. I will never get over his “grab em by the pussy” remark from back before he got elected.

I am outraged, depressed, disappointed, but most of all I’m desperate. All of my closest friends share the same mindset about Trump as me, and that does give me some comfort. But the people whose opinions matter to me the most are my parents. And seeing just how adamant they are that Biden is the greater of two evils makes me so upset. Short of grabbing them and screaming, I don’t know what else to do.

I wish I could get them to see past the damn labels, because guess what? It doesn’t matter what side they’re on. What matters is who they are as people and what policies they are promising to implement. Look, I’m not saying I like Biden cause he apparently sucks as well. But he doesn’t display traits of actual fascism like Trump.

So you may be thinking, why am I writing this? I accept that I can’t prevent Trump from getting re-elected. In all honesty that’s probably what’s gonna happen because people are stupid and don’t learn from their mistakes. I also accept that I cannot get most Republicans to see what a monster he is. But I refuse to let my parents continue to be misguided. I have to convince them to see my point of view.

I have to make them see the truth.

So I am begging, anyone reading this post, please send me credible materials that show what a disgusting person Trump is, why he’s a terrible president, and why re-electing him will only make the country worse. I am too dejected to sift through dozens of biased articles just to only find a few facts. If that’s asking too much, then just share your stories. How has this presidency affected you? My hope is that with enough evidence, they will understand why I hate him so much. Unfortunately I can’t change their vote, but maybe I can change their view.

And for anyone who hasn’t voted yet, you know who I’m gonna urge you to vote for. You don’t have to agree with him, but for the sake of our country, vote blue.

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 55: Friends Helping Friends

Presenting the next chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia!

Due to scheduling things, this is being simultaneously posted here and AO3!

This chapter and earlier ones can be found here

“So who should we do for our project?”

Kenta looked up from his math textbook and the notes spread out on his desk.  He, Takuma, and Kimiko were all studying in his room.  It was the least cluttered and busy of their three rooms, without Kimiko’s plushies and martial arts equipment or the eye-searing and garish decorations that filled Takuma’s.  Other than Shoji’s, it was probably the most boring room in the dormitory. At least he had stuff in his, mostly a few posters and some family photos. Pretty basic, but it was his.

“I asked what we should do for our project,” Takuma said.  He was sitting on the floor, a book on his lap and a notepad next to him.

“What project?” Kenta asked.

“Our Hero History project?” Takuma prompted.  “From Skyline’s class today?  A presentation on a Pro Hero who made a significant contribution to society, either through good actions or bad behavior?”

“Oh, right,” he replied. “That.”

His pink-skinned friend held his gaze for a minute.  “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

Kenta let out a sigh. “Yeah, sorry, nothing.”

Kimiko, sitting on his bed, gave him a look.  He couldn’t see her eyes or expression, of course, but he could practically feel the concern radiating off her. There was a slight denting on the collar of her shirt, which told him she was tilting her head.  One sleeve came up.  Was she maybe pointing?   “You okay, Kenta?” she asked.  “You’ve been kind of spacey ever since you got back last night.”

He frowned.  “You guys have your sessions with Hound Dog yet?”  

“During English today,” Kimiko said.  She tensed. “You did notice I was gone, didn’t you?”

Kenta swallowed hard. “I didn’t.  Sorry, Kimmie.”   He felt bad about that.  Kimiko tried so hard to make sure she was noticed, and he hadn’t even realized she was gone.   Sure, he’d kind of been sleepwalking through the day, but he didn’t feel like that was any kind of excuse.

“Kenta!” she yelled, arms flailing, “how could you just miss me like that!  I oughta….”

She trailed off.   Kenta guessed he must have looked distressed enough to prevent a full on rant and swat.   There was some small blessing in that.  Kimiko wasn’t that tall, but she was fit and packed a lot of power behind her smacks.   He was surprised Takuma didn’t have brain damage from all the times she’d gone upside his head.

Though she never did seem to smack him as hard she did him.

She arms dropped to her lap. “It was fine.  I really didn’t see much of anything.  Just one of those things when me and Doctor Izumi got closer to the hospital.  I made us invisible and Mister Aoyama zapped the hell out of it.  Thing sure was ugly though.  But I got cleared right away.”

“Me too,” Takuma said. “During Science.  Tsukuyomi did pretty much all the lifting and just tore the one we were fighting apart.  Scary, kinda gross.  But I wasn’t in any danger.”

Keta wondered if wasn’t noticing how his voice was shaking with that. But his best friend’s lighter nature returned almost immediately.  “Please tell me you noticed,” Takuma continued.  “Because I sit right next to you.”

Kenta squirmed uncomfortably.  

“Bro.” Takuma gave him an incredulous look.

“Seriously, Kenta, what’s going on?” Kimiko asked.  “This isn’t like you.  You’re usually the one keeping us focused.”

Well, how was he supposed to answer that?  That he’d used his Quirk on what he’d thought had been a living thing?  That he couldn’t get the taste of its freakish (false?) flesh out of his mouth?  That he’d been scared he was going to die?   That if he had a better or more impressive Quirk, he wouldn’t have nearly died?

How about the fact that he’d been planning on asking Kimiko out before everything turned to shit? He’d gone from riding a victory high after helping to beat that gunk villain to being scared out of his mind just days later.

Suneater and Nejire-Chan said he’d saved their lives.

So why didn’t he feel like a Hero?

“It’s nothing,” he said, trying to change the subject.  “So, you said we’ve got a report?”

Unfortunately, his attempts at diversion did not work and just got both of them staring at him intently.   “”It’s not nothing,” Takuma said, crossing his arms.  The frown looked badly out of place on his pink face.  “You’ve been out of it all day.”

Kenta looked away.  “I really don’t…”

“Bro,” Takuma said again.  “I’m your best friend.”

“Hey!”

“Sorry, Kimmie, but it’s true.  You’re a real close second, though.  But Kenta, we’re your friends.  We’ve been through some shit together.  That time we tried to hide a kitten in your room.  The cookie fiasco.  Mrs. Tendo’s math class.”

Left unspoken was the death of his mother, but Kenta knew it was there all the same.  Takuma, Kimiko, Akaya, they’d all been there, as much as five year olds could, when his mom had been killed.  And the friendships there had stayed ever since.  

“Talk to us,” Takuma said, softly.

Kimiko moved over to his side of the room.  “Aw, Kenta,” she began. Some inner warning system told him to flinch, which was wise, because the next thing he knew, she was hitting him, smacking him across the arms and shoulders with her hands.  “If you don’t tell us what’s wrong, I’m going to beat the stuffing out of you!  We’re your friends! If there’s something wrong with you, we wanna know about it!  Why don’t you talk to us?!”

“Kimmie!  You’re gonna leave bruises!”  Takuma grabbed her arm before she could hit him again, and pulled her slightly away.  

Kenta rubbed his arm where she’d been smacking him.  “No, she’s right.  You’re… both right.  I shouldn’t…”

He looked down.  The floor was more comfortable than having to look two of the people who mattered most to him in the eyes.  “I nearly died, guys.”  He heard gasps from both of them.  Kimiko didn’t even protest that she was “not a guy.”  

Kenta sucked in a breath. “That Nomu knocked out Suneater and then Nejire-Chan. She hit her head.  I was pretty sure she was dead, until I saw her breathing.  But it kept coming. I thought for sure it was going to kill her, then me.  Or some combination of that.  So I… I took a bite out of it.”

He shook his head.  “I was pretty sure it was alive.  Or as alive as something like that could be. Not a robot.  But I still did it.  Because I thought it was the only way to get out of there alive. And then I tried to hightail it out of there with Nejire-Chan.  But it kept following us, even with half its calve missing.  If Deku hadn’t shown up… she’d be dead, I’d be dead, and then it probably would have gone back and finished off Suneater.”

He was aware, suddenly, that he was sobbing. Kenta held his head in his hands.  “We’d all be dead and Dad…   Dad’d be all alone…  Maybe if I was stronger or had a better Quirk or…”

Arms wrapped around him, Takuma’s wiry ones and Kimiko’s fit ones.  A group hug.  “Oh, Kenta,” Kimiko said.  “We had no idea.”

“Dude,” Takuma added, “you can’t just keep this stuff to yourself.  We’re your friends.  We’re the ones you’re supposed to tell this stuff to.

“And besides,” he went on, causing Kenta to look up, “do you know how much time we’ve invested in your social media presence?  All of that’d be wasted if you got killed.”  He had on his “good idea grin,” the one he always did when he was trying to convince someone to go along with his ideas and trying to push the charm. It rarely ever worked.

This time, though, Kenta found himself laughing.  Slowly at first, but then faster, louder, until he was laughing as hard as he’d been sobbing, and the tears of pain he’d cried turned to tears of joy.  When Kimiko and Takuma released him, he wiped his eyes.  “Oh, man,” he said, feeling lighter for the first time since Saturday morning, “I needed that.  Thanks, both of you.”

“Anytime, Bro,” Takuma said.

“What’re friends for?” Kimiko asked.   “But if you ever pull anything like that again…”   She raised an arm, menacingly.

“’Make Kimiko go whacko, you get the smacko,’” Kenta repeated from memory.

“Damn right you will,” she said firmly.  

“The three of us,” Takuma said, “we’re together to the end.  No matter what.”

He could still hear the Nomu’s roar.  Still smell its fetid breath.  Still taste its putrid flesh in his mouth.  Still feel the fear threatening to drive his heart from his chest.

But now, it all felt just a little more distant.  And maybe, just maybe, he was a little more determined to tell Kimiko how he felt. After nearly dying, there were way worse things than maybe being a little embarrassed.

Worst she’d probably do was smack him.

***

“Thanks, both of you, for coming,” Kana Tetsutetsu said, walking up the stairs to the fourth floor of the Class 1-B dormitory.  She let out a weary sigh. “I’ve tried talking to him, but he practically hid from everyone at lunch and he holed up in his room immediately after class.”

“Anything for ‘Ro,” Mika said.  “He’s been ignoring me too, for what it’s worth.  I was about to send him some steamy pics when you called.  See if that worked.”  

She had a really great bikini for it too.  Combined with her rocking bod, it was guaranteed to get some kind of response out of anyone female-attracted. She should still probably send some of those to Shinji.  He was on a social media lockdown as part of his punishment for flying to the rescue across Japan (And how romantic was that?), but texts should still count…

“Maybe you should try sending Haimawari some, Kana,” she said.  “Guys like those things.  Keeps the fire in the relationship.”

“We’ve texted and watched some movies together,” Kana said, sounding annoyed.  “He’s a nice guy—and he is cute—but we’re definitely not at that stage yet.  And Mika…”

“Yes?”

“Stop hitting on him or I’ll break your legs.”

Mika like out a frightened eep.  “Yes, ma’am,” she said.

“Should you not tell your Homeroom Teacher?” Akaya asked, trying to drag the subject back to the actual reason they were there.  It wasn’t Mika’s fault so many things lead to sexual or relationshipal thoughts!  “The welfare of students is his job.  Or perhaps your mother?  She is a close family friend.”

Kana shook her head, setting her orange-red ponytail swaying.  “Getting Fujii-sensei or Mom involved is just asking for trouble. Plus it might end up on the record, even with Mom.  The line between family friend and teacher gets a little weird.  Plus Mom’d tell his parents and Shiro already feels like he’s here hanging on by a thread.  Who knows what would happen if he thought it was getting worse.”

Mika was definitely glad her mom wasn’t a UA teacher.  She needed freedom to pursue her various interests, like boys.  And girls.  And other individuals to which she was attracted.  Having that much scrutiny around all the time during your teenage years couldn’t be good for you.

“Understandable,” Akaya said.  “But if Shiro is so deeply troubled, I would prefer he get the help he needs, regardless of what it may mean for his career.  Still… perhaps we can convince him to seek the help himself.”

“Thanks,” Kana said, opening the stairwell door.  “Fukidashi says he’s “undergoing character development,” but that’s pretty par for the course for her nonsense.”  Even Mika would admit that Anime sometimes didn’t make a lot of sense.

“Think it has something to do with his Internship?” Mika asked.  

Shiro had interned with Red Riot.  Considering Shiro was hung up on Kirishima-Bakugo, that had to have been awkward.  Wasn’t he supposed to have done some kind of dramatic confession before they started those?  If it had gone well, he’d probably have bragged about it to everyone who would listen, so she could only assume she’d turned him down, but still…

“I asked Shoji what happened,” Akaya said.  “But he said it was not his place to discuss it.”

“Of course he did,” Mike said, rolling her eyes.  “He makes minding his own business a Sports Festival level event.”  Understandable, but not helpful in this particular situation.

Two of the four doors were open, one on either side nearest the stairwell.  In one of them, a very attractive guy who looked like a humanoid bat was strumming on what looked like a heavily modified guitar with his long fingers.  His fur was white, save for a mane of wild blond hair.  She could just imagine him folding his wing-arms around her and…

A tug on her arm brought her back to reality.  “Help friends now, carnal pursuits later,” Akaya cautioned her.    

“I’ll introduce you to Koumori later, if this pans out, okay?” Kana said, giving her the same look other people did when they were fighting the urge to roll their eyes.

If he was interested in music though, maybe she could pass up a hot guy this one time, introduce him to Chihio?  Her best friend was nearly flat as a board, so she needed a different hook to get a guy… Chi did have good legs and a great ass (She noticed these things, even if she’d never hit on her best friend), so throw in a mutual interest…

From the doorway of the other open room, a large young man—He had to be nearly three meters tall!—poked his head out.  “Everything okay, Tetsutetsu?” he asked.  

“I don’t know yet, Fukui,” Kana told him.  “Have you seen Shiro today?  Outside of class, I mean.”

The big guy shook his head. “I think I saw him go down and get some food, but that’s it.  He was doing that sneaky ninja creep thing he does.”

Kana just sighed and pinched her nose again.  “Of course, he did.  Thank you, Fukui.”

“Yes, thank you,” Akaya added.  She gave him a little wave.  “Hello, Fukui.”

The big guy smiled and returned the wave.  “Hi, Koda. Still planning on joining us in the garden this weekend?”

“If time and weather permit.”

Mika looked between the two. She knew they were friends, but were they friends or “friends”?  None of her usual radar was going off, so probably just the former.  And also not relevant to the task at hand!  If she didn’t get any action on this trip, nobody did!

***

Shiro’s room was at the end of the hall, on the left.  Kana knocked on it.  “Shiro! Open up!”  

Silence greeted her.   She knocked again.  “Shiro, this is me as your friend, not as your classmate or Class Rep.  Open up. Please.”

A muffled sound came from within.  It sounded a bit like “Go away.”

Kana threw her hands up in the air.  “Argh. He’s power sulking, I just know it. He was doing this before the Internships too.”

Yeah, that definitely suggested whatever had happened with Kirishima-Bakugo hadn’t gone well.  Poor Shiro.  There was a sweet guy under all that ego.  He’d definitely treated her like a princess when they’d been dating.

Kana turned to Akaya. “Okay, your turn.  We’ll try reasonableness.”  

“Shiro,” Akaya said, with that soft voice of hers, like wind through reeds, “Shiro, please.  We are worried about you.  Whatever happened, allow us to share your burdens.”

This too, was met by silence.

Akaya placed a hand on the door.  “Shiro. Please.  I am asking you not to hide from us.”

Silence again greeted them, until the soft sound of footsteps on carpet followed.  The door opened slightly and Mika peered around Akaya’s bulk to a get a look at him.   She would be the first to admit that she was frequently surprised, whether it was by unexpected hotness or Kirishia-Bakugo showing up out of nowhere to yell at her.  But what she saw with Shiro took her breath away.

He looked like he hadn’t slept in a couple of days, with deep, dark bags hanging under his eyes.  He was slouching.  He hadn’t changed out of his uniform, other than to shuck the jacket, so it was it was wrinkled.  He’d allowed his hair to become unkempt.

That was when she realized just how serious this was.

“Holy crap,” Mika said, softly.

“I’m fine, Akaya,” he said, not looking her in the eyes.  “Just tired.”

“Kana was worried about you,” Akaya said.  “And I see now that she was right to be so.  You are very much not yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” Shiro insisted.  It looked very much like he’d been crying.  And like he hadn’t even been doing his skin care regime!  “If you’ll excuse me, Akaya, it’s nice of you to check on me.  But I’m in the middle of something.”

Mika could just see into Shiro’s room.  The vaguely French décor, the expansive hair care set up, it looked just like the last time she had been in his room (It had been entirely platonic, despite how she kept dropping things and had to keep bending over to pick them up.), except for the suitcases on the floor.  It was entirely possible, given his depressive state, that he had never unpacked. It would have been unlike his usual collected self, but possible under current circumstances.  Except for the fact that most of his dresser drawers appeared to be open.  And empty.

“What,” she said, “the actual fuck?!”

She quickly became aware that she must have been rather loud, because Akaya, Kana, and Shiro were all staring at her.   Even the other boys on the floor had come out of their rooms to see.  Fortunately for her, she didn’t care.

She pushed past Akaya and shoved Shiro into his room, roughly.  “I’ve got this.”

The door slammed shut behind her.

***

Mika gave Shiro another shove further into the room, and then one more, to knock him onto the bed. She pointed at him and opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.  Trembling with rage, she forced herself to be able to speak.

“What.  The Hell. Is wrong with you?” she demanded, going back to pointing.   “Are you giving up?  Quitting?  Since when the hell do you do that?!”

She realized he was staring at her, eyes wide, a frighten expression on his face, shaking like a leaf.   “Hey, no, no,” Mika said quickly, joining him on the bed.  She put her arms around him.  Under most circumstances, she’d have pulled his head to her bosom, but it didn’t seem like it would work here.  “I’m not mad. Okay, yes, I am mad at you. Because you got me all worried. But why are you leaving?”

“Because I don’t belong here.”

“The hell you don’t.”

Shiro gestured to his desk, where some of his things were still out.  A deck of playing cards, a set of lock picks, even a twirling baton. A small pair of hand weights sat on the floor, and DVDs of Heroes in action in hand-lettered cases occupied a significant section of the bookshelf.

“Did you know there’s a running bet among some of the other courses as to whether or not I even have a Quick?  Do you know how hard I have to work, just to keep up with people with real powers?  Just because I can move like Eraserhead or copy Gunhead’s moves doesn’t mean I’ve got any of their strength unless I work at it.  All the time.  So I’ve worked for years to be able to keep up.”

He closed his eyes. “And when I was out in the field… when that monster attacked… my Quirk and body betrayed me.  It might have been a robot, but cloaked in dead skin, all I could see was how profoundly wrong it was.  Not like Ojiro or Fukidashi, they’re just blind spots.  But just pure, unadulterated, unnaturalness.  And I knew, in that moment, no matter what I did… there was nothing I could have done that would have even slowed it down for a moment.”

His eyes snapped open, tears trailing down his cheeks.  “I froze! Shoji had to carry me out of there, like a child!  I could have run, I could have done anything, but instead, I was exactly what they always used to say I was… a useless kid with a useless, fake Quirk, deluding himself about being a Hero!”

Mika blinked slowly, processing everything Shiro had just unloaded on her.  She knew he had plenty of crisises of confidence.  She remembered comforting him after he’d lost at the Sports Festival.  She remembered the many times where he’d wondered if he was good enough.

But she had never seen him as broken as he was right now.  Self-doubt was one thing, he had wanted to be talked out of those bouts.  She wasn’t sure he did right now.

“So I might as well pack my things.  Maybe they can give my spot to a Gen Ed kid like Kocho.  Somebody who’ll do something with it.  It’s not too late to take up a career as a street performer.”

Mika frowned.  Kana would have had some words of encouragement. Akaya would have had something deep and thoughtful to add to the conversation.  Even Kirishima-Bakugo would have known what to say here, though her answer probably would have been “Suck up and get over it.”  Unfortunately, Mika was none of those people, so she was going to have to improvise.

“Okay,” she said, “first, I’m going to need the names of whoever’s organizing these bets.  Because I need to adjust the hoof to ass ratio around here something fierce.”

He gave her an incredulous look.  “That’s your takeaway from this?”

“Look, I don’t have a lot of tools here, Shiro.  So ass kicking on your behalf seems like a good start.”

“You’re impossible, you know that?” he said.  “But even if you beat them all up, it doesn’t change anything.”

She gave him a small poke in the chest with her finger.  “Listen to me, Shiro.  You’re going to stay here, and you’re going to be a big damn Hero.  And do you know why?”

He gave a little laugh. “Because you’ll adjust my ass to hoof ratio?”

“No,” she said. “Well, yes, if this moping thing keeps up.  But that’s not why.  It’s because you’re a spiteful little bastard who never let anybody tell him what he can and can’t do.  And if you think you can’t cut it… then do it to spite yourself.”

This got another laugh, one that was quickly replaced by a frown. “You realize that made no sense? And it still doesn’t change anything.”

“Got you to forget your problems for a minute, didn’t I?” Mika asked.   “You change your mind yet?”

“No.”

Her eyes widened.  “What?”

Shiro shook his head. “As… refreshing as this chat’s been, I’m still the guy who froze up when he should have acted.”  

She was rapidly running out of ideas here.  “How’s your class going to get by without you?”

“Kana is the Representative. She’ll do a fine job, even without me. She might not have quite the same competitive spirit I do, but she’s got enough of one to ensure they won’t fall behind.”

“The term’s not over and you won’t be able to transfer anywhere, even to a non-Hero school, without a complete transcript.”

He opened and closed his mouth.  “…Dammit.”

“Stay at least that long?” she asked.  “Please?”

“For the sake of my academics, yes.”

“Great!  That gives me a few weeks to work with!”

He just shook his head. “You’re really not giving up on me, are you?”

“Of course not,” she told him, leaning over to give him a little peck on the cheek.  

She really didn’t know how to solve this.  This was every problem Shiro had had turned up to eleven.  Being rejected on top of having his perceived weaknesses brought to the forefront…  There really wasn’t a good way to get past that.  At least, not that she could see right now.  Maybe Akaya or Kana or Anime could think of something.

But she could be there. And she’d bought herself a little time.

***

“Hey, ah, can we come in?”

The voice at the door snapped Katsumi’s attention out of her math homework.  Or rather, her attempts at her homework.  She wasn’t exactly having an easy time focusing on the numbers and formulae.  The more she tried to concentrate, the more it all ran away from her and sent her spiraling down dark paths.  

At least Izzy and Toshi were giving her space.  They’d both assured her they were here for her if she needed them, but knew to let her process it all in her own way.  Though Izzy was extremely insistent that she unburden herself somehow, to someone. Still unable to say no to Izzy, she’d said she would.  Which meant she’d have to deal with this sooner or later.  Because while she was many things, she wasn’t a liar.  

“Kirishima-Bakugo?” a second voice, this one male,  joined the first.  “You going to give us an answer?”

“Katsumi.”

That last one definitely got her attention.  She turned and saw Sero and Kaminari standing in her doorway.  She gave them a glare and both squawked.  Sero actually took an awkward step backwards, losing his balance and falling on his ass.  Kaminari let out an equally terrified squeak, her Extension Cords standing upright and sending off sparks.  “Kaminari, we definitely aren’t close enough to be to be using my first name,”

“We used to be,” Kaminari said as she helped Sero back to his feet.

“Yeah,” Sero said. “Bakusquad Generation Two!  What happened to that?”

Her glare must be getting weak.  They were still there and still talking.  “Because you two got dumb as fuck.”  

They weren’t wrong. They’d been friends, once, when they were children and when they were pre-teens.  But then Sero got obsessed with internet fame and Kaminari had started listening to Mineta more and more, where Katsumi remained one hundred percent focused on her goal of being a Hero.  So they’d drifted apart.  Kaminari, she saw more often still, since she was also friends with Izzy, but it was never quite the same.

They weren’t friends, but they were still…  Something. She wasn’t sure what the word was. Classmates, at least.  Family friends, sure.  And she’d put them ahead of Horse-Girl or the Glowstick on the list of people she tolerated, so there was that.

“Right,” Sero said, unfazed by her barb.  “And you got terrifying beyond all reason.  You know, the usual.”

“So can we come in or not?” Kaminari asked.

“Is there any answer I can give that would make you go away?”

They exchanged a look. “Nope,” Sero said.

“Nope,” Kaminari added.

“Nope!” both said at once.

“No,” Katsumi said, because some things had to be tried, no matter how futile they were.  She wasn’t surprised when they ignored her and came in anyway.

“Dig the posters,” Kaminari said, looking at the posters for the heavy metal bands on her walls.  “Scream Girls?  Great sound. You’ve got good taste.”

“I’ve heard about them,” Sero said.  “Loud, angry-sounding lesbians in leather costumes.  I can total see why you dig them, Kirishima-Bakugo.”

Katsumi gave him a look that would peel paint.  He panicked appropriately, flailing his hands in an apologetic gesture.  “N..not that there’s anything wrong with that!  Kind of loud for me, though.  I gotta go with the Nyan-Band myself.  Their stuff’s catchy!”

This time, both Katsumi and Kaminari gave him a look.  “You’re an idiot,” Kaminari said.

“Dumbass,” Katsumi said.

There was a brief pause as Katsumi exchanged a look with Kaminari.  It said “in this moment, I respect that you are not Sero.”

“So seriously, what are you two doing here?” she demanded.  “Other than lowering the average IQ in the room?”

“Look, it’s like you said, we’re not really friends anymore,” Sero said.  “Not close, anyway.  But all our families are still friends.  We were worried about you and your dad.”

“Yeah,” Kaminari said. She frowned, which Katsumi admitted looked out of place on her features.  She was a dumbass, but Kaminari was usually cheerful.  “Um, I just… remember when Dad was hurt.  Back in the day.  And how messed up it all was even back then.  So now…”

Back when Papa had been hurt.  And Uncle Tetsutetsu had been hurt.  And Sato had lost his mother.  Lots of people had been hurt on that one.  Kaminari’s dad had been stabbed.  A lot.  When they hadn’t been sure if they were going to lose Papa…

At least in the here and now, they had a guarantee that Dad was going to be all right.  Him living wasn’t a question.  But how well he’d take to, well, pretty much anything, was still up in the air.  She’d talked to both her parents today.  Lots of physical therapy for Dad, so he could at least be fitted for a normal prosthetic eventually, even if he couldn’t use his Quirk with it.  Papa was also trying to get him to talk to a real therapist… it wasn’t going well.

Of course, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to her own sessions with Hound Dog either.  Because she was pretty sure she wasn’t getting away with just one.  The school therapist probably had a thing about people suppressing their uncomfortable emotions and channeling them for violence.  Some stupid rule about not using “unhealthy coping mechanisms.”

“He’s… he’s healing,” Katsumi said, hoping they didn’t notice the hesitancy in her voice.  The last thing she needed was for either of them to stop being afraid of her.  “Still a way’s away from being discharged though.”

“Eeesh,” Sero said. “Rough.  Mom said Dad’s going home tomorrow.  Gotta take it easy for a while though.”

“Dad went home to day,” Kaminari said.  “He actually got off pretty easy.”

Katsumi clenched a fist and gritted her teeth.  She wasn’t going to snap at them.  She wasn’t going to yell.  She wasn’t going to protest the unfairness of it all.  It was all part of the risks of being a Hero.  But damn, she wanted to.

“Still,” Sero said, “good to hear about your dad.  When we heard what had happened to him…”

“Got pretty scared,” Kaminari said.  “Somebody like him can get hurt like that…  Somebody we know and who took care of us as kids…”

Yeah.  A big name Hero like Dad getting hurt, that was shocking. Brought them down to normal suddenly, deleted the myth of invincibility.   But she’d learned that lesson early.

Didn’t make it hurt any less right now.  Or make her worry go away.

“So…,” Kaminari went on, as an awkwardness hung in the air.  She gestured vaguely with her Cords, hands stuffed into the pockets of her pants. “We just wanted to say we’re here if you need us.”

“Just wanna talk, or whatever,” Sero said.  He held up a finger.  “Or even if you just want to yell at us.  That always seems to make you happy.”

A free pass at that?   A grin slowly spread over Katsumi’s face.  “I just might have to take you up on that,” she said.  “…But not when you’re expecting it.”

“So what you’re saying is we’ve got a free shot at annoying you now?” Sero asked.  “Because I could totally film that.  Simmering kettle, I’ll call it…”

Katsumi just rolled her eyes.  “Under no circumstances.”

“Yeah, okay,” Kaminari said, tugging on Sero’s arm to get him moving toward the door.  “Let’s get out of here before you get us both killed. But we meant it, Kirishima-Bakugo. You need us, talk to us.”

Maybe she would. Maybe she would.

[noxleyfin]

Newsies Imagine: Homeless And Annoyed PART 2

Newsies x 13-year-old (M) Newsie (Homeless And Annoyed) Part. 2

→ a/n: I don’t know any of the actors personally nor do I own them or their characters. What’s written below is fiction and should be thought of and treated as such. I am essentially using them as a name-claim and face-claim. I’m creating my own character and using the actors as background characters, and just using their name and features for details. I do not directly associate the actors with any ideas used in my writing. This writing is to be used for entertainment and fictional purposes only. → summary: this kids done with his living situation and stumbles upon a fellow guy in need. → warnings: mentions of past abuse, violence, strong language, stupid Delancey's, bad writing → word count: 1097 → completion: done → (Y/N) - Your Name 

Saturday, August 15th, 1899 5:04 p.m. 2nd Person POV

Life sucks. And that’s a fact. 

“Hey, dirtbag! Where ya’ running to?” Your new ‘friend’ called from behind you.

Up your mother’s ass.

Of course, you didn’t say that. Probably wouldn’t have been a very good idea. 

What you really said was, “Didn’t know there was a curfew, Nerf Herder!” 

...That probably wasn’t much better, was it?

“The hell you call me?” 

You turned into your alley. “You deaf or somethin’?” 

Swinging your body around, you watched the dark shadow figure follow behind you. 

Well, at least this one isn’t super ugly. It’s real embarrassing to get beat by a guy who’s less handsome than you. Luckily, that doesn’t happen often. He was older than you, maybe by 5 years. His face was bare of any hair but his dumb looking hat distracted you from the fact that he hasn’t puberty yet. You’ve seen him around before; he and his brother like to go around messing with people. Speaking of which, where is his brother? 

“So you found the rat, Oscar?”

Speak of the asshole.

“He tried to escape, but he couldn’t get past me,” Oscar informed his brother with a smirk.

You just stood there looking at them and they looked at you. 

“Get him.”

Your mind was fuzzy after he said that. 

“Geroff!”

You could faintly hear the sound of your body flopping to the ground and the insults that the brothers yelled at you as white-hot pain exploded everywhere. “Leave me alone!” 

It felt different from when that one man kicked you in the chest, that had only lasted a few days but this felt like it would stay with you forever. “I’m...I’m warning’ ya’.” You don’t even remember when they stopped hitting you. 

“Hey! Leave ‘em alone!” 

And then it went dark. 

Sunday, August 16th, 1899 8:13 a.m. 3rd Person POV

“What’s gonna happen to him?” 

“I got no clue, Kid.” 

“But what about his family?” 

Les wasn’t exactly happy about what happened to his new friend. The night before, while on a walk, Race and Jojo had found  a half-dead (Y/N) unconscious in an alley with the Delancys on top of them. When they finally managed to chase them away, they dragged him between them to the Lodging House. The warden had sent for a doctor and Snipeshooter ran to the Jacobs’ apartment to bring David and Les along. Les, unfortunately, was not allowed to stay the night so only David could come. When he saw what had happened to the boy who had reunited him with his little brother, he went into a rage, mumbling about how he was gonna kill Oscar and Morris, all while wiping at the bloody wound on (Y/N)’s forehead. 

After he cleaned them up to the best of his ability, the doctor arrived with the warden and Davey was shoved to the side. With an extensive evaluation, the doctor concluded that while nothing was broken (thank god), he had a severe concussion and was ordered to stay in bed for at least a week. The newsies gave him the extra bunk that David usually used while he slept over. In the meantime, David decided to sleep on the old couch in the front room. It wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, but he wasn’t leaving. He felt a strange protectiveness over the young boy, like he was another younger brother. 

Jack sighed. Les had been brought over by Race not too long ago and wouldn’t shut his trap. We love the kid but (Y/N) was right, the kid really is annoying. 

“We don’t even know if the guy has a family or not, Kid. We just have to wait ta ask him.” He explained. 

“C’mon, Les,” David called from the corner. “Leave Jack alone. Wanna draw with Smalls?” He gestured to the close-in-age girl sitting next to him. 

Smalls looked up with a smile and waved Les over. Les grinned and jogged over and was handed a green crayon and the two kids began to color together. At this point, David started to worry and for the fifth time that day, sat next to (Y/N) and brushed some hair out of his face. 

“Dave,” Jack sighed from his spot at the cards table, “Leave the poor kid alone. You gonna give him a heart attack when he wakes up.”

David sighed and began to stand up, knowing Jack was right, but as soon as he did, a soft groan emitted from (Y/N)’s body. Conversations stopped as everyone stared at the young boy. Jack and Davey were the closest and therefore, the first faces he saw when (Y/N) finally opened his eyes. They opened slowly, more groans and grunts coming out as he did. However, when he saw who was above him, he was not happy.

“Get away!” He started to yell. He went to sit up but Jack held him down...only making (Y/N) more mad but he only attempted to fight for a few minutes before falling back in exhaustion. “Where...where am I?” He stuttered out, trying to move his head but hissing at the pain it caused. 

“Woah! Slow down, Kid,” Jack did his best to calm him down but he was still attempting to fight the tight grip on his shoulders. 

“Please let me go,” (Y/N) begged. David could see tears forming in his eyes. His gaze met Jack’s and he nodded to the other boy.

Jack slowly let go of (Y/N)’s shoulders but didn’t put his arms down right away. 

“Is’okay. We ain’t gonna hurt ya’.”

Eventually (Y/N) relaxed back into the hard mattress but anyone could see he was still tense; that is, everyone except Les. As soon as he thought was appropriate, the boy rushed over to the other, ignoring Smalls’ offended look when he threw her green crayon to the floor. 

“(Y/N)!” He called out, smiling brighter than he had in a fair while.

Once (Y/N) saw Les, at first he grimaced but it soon melted into a reluctant smile. “Hey, Kid,” he called briefly. That was enough for the expectant Les. He began to ramble on about nothing and everything while David and Jack backed off, choosing to ignore (Y/N)’s desperate look. They exited the room and spoke quietly despite being away from the group. 

“You think he’s gonna be okay?” David asked. 

Jack thought for a moment. He and the others had seen the flinches and heard the boy’s not so quiet pleas back in the bunkroom; it wasn’t hard to determine what had possibly happened to him in previous times. He sighed deeply before answering his friend, “I’m not sure, Dave. But that’s what we’re here for.”

[bi-bi-richie]

Bubblegum Love

Richie just needs a few suckers for the week, but life is a little unpredictable, isn’t it? 

Ao3

Richie sucked a red sucker in his mouth. The mellow taste of artificial cherry flavoring coated his tongue. It reminded him of old days when he’d be sick with a cold and his mom was have to bribe him to take the disgusting cough syrup. But, after all, cherry was better than grape. Truth be told, Richie didn’t care for suckers at all. The way they made his lips chapped and mouth run dry wasn’t anything favorable for him, not to mention water didn’t taste too great afterward. It’s just that Richie had quit cigarettes and they sort of left him with this confusing oral fixation. So now he sucks in the sickly sweet cherry suckers, hoping one day he’ll leave this addiction behind.

Saturday was a rough day for Richie. He ran out of suckers, which was something he was scolded for by his friend Bev, who made it clear that he needed to have them on hand at all times. No, running out of the disgusting sugar-on-sticks wasn’t too bad, it was the feeling of needing something all day and the scolding from Bev that made it miserable. He couldn’t break away from his shift at the diner, he knew he’d have to wait all day to get down to the gas station to pick up a bag for the next week.

When his shift ended, he shot out of the diner so fast he almost forgot his backpack and tips. Unfortunately, he walked that day, and, even worse, the nearest gas station was two miles away. But, there was one thing that wasn’t two miles away.

“Welcome to Ben’s Candy Shoppe,” an unenthusiastic man called from behind a cash register, “tell me if you need anything.”

Richie nodded his head, though he was certain this man didn’t see it, nor did he care that Richie acknowledged him at all.

Richie directed himself to the nearest aisle out of sight from the man and started looking up and down the small rows for any sort of fruit flavored candy. Chocolate seemed to be this candy shop’s specialty, which didn’t exactly make sense since chocolate wasn’t candy. He walked down another aisle and found things like Jolly Ranchers, Warheads, Sour Patch Kids, but no suckers. He was beginning to wonder why a candy shop wouldn’t have any fucking suckers! What kind of shit place is this?

He was almost ready to dip and suffer a two-mile walk down to the gas station, but then soft footsteps came up from behind him and in two seconds made him change his mind entirely.

“Hi, can I help you?” A young man, Richie’s age, no doubt, asked. Richie turned around and felt his entire soul leave his body from pure shock about how incredibly attractive the man was in front of him.

“Oh wow…” Richie whispered, looking into the man’s soft, chocolate eyes. The man was… beyond words for Richie. He had soft brown hair, beautiful doe eyes, freckles painting his sun-kissed skin, shiny plump lips and to top it off he wore a yellow, red, and white striped shirt. In short, he was Richie’s fucking dream man.

“Uh,” the boy coughed, “do you need help?”

Richie snapped and shook his head as if to show it, “sorry! Uh, yes actually I do need help.”

The boy smiled and nodded his head, “well, I’m Eddie, what’re you looking for?”

“Well, I kinda really need some suckers, but I can’t find any.” He pointed to the shelves of chocolate and tart treats.

Eddie nodded his head and pointed to the end of the aisle, “actually we have suckers on the aisle next to us, guess you were in too much of a hurry to see?”

Richie blushed, “well, sweets are my addiction. And, who’s to say me missing the suckers was a bad thing? I got a pretty cute knight in shining armor to save me.”

Fuck fuck fuck! What was that!? Why would I-

Eddie giggled, “guess I’m lucky that Stan didn’t come over instead.”

Then Richie giggled, feeling his stomach do flips and his heart flutter. Richie hadn’t really been in the dating game for a while, after he quit cigarettes he decided he would focus on himself. He was going to build a better Richie. Now, he may be addicted to sugar on a stick, but he thinks he’s done an amazing job that was definitely good enough for him to work his Tozier charm once again.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” Richie said quietly, but not so Eddie couldn’t hear. “Walk me to the suckers?” He felt overjoyed when Eddie gave him a shy nod.

It wasn’t a long walk, obviously, but Richie felt himself glow with excitement. He couldn’t help but feel like hot shit, I mean, the guy had the most beautiful man he’s ever met walking right beside him. At the same time though, he was intrigued by Eddie, even if they’ve had a pretty basic conversation.

When they reached the suckers, Richie felt his mouth water and the need to have something in his mouth overwhelm him. What threw him off was the number of flavors presented to him, definitely far off from his basic cough syrup cherry.

“Wider selection than you thought?” Eddie asked with a smile.

“Mhm,” Richie nodded, “I usually just take a cherry one and call it a day.”

Eddie made a fake gagging noise and shook his head in disgust, “cherry is probably the worst! Taste like kid’s medicine, grape isn’t that far off either.”

Richie couldn’t help but let out a bark of a laugh, “you raise a good point, Spaghetti.”

“They taste as bad as that nickname, what the hell was that?”

Richie let out a loud cackle that echoed throughout the mostly empty store, “just a cute nickname for a cute guy! Don’t like it?”

Eddie made another  fake gagging sound and shook his head, “it’s horrendous,”  he complained, but the beaming smile on his face said otherwise.

“Whatever you say, Eds. I guess I’ll take a handful of these babies here!” He went to grab at the cherry flavored suckers to the right, but Eddie’s hand shot out and directed Richie to the pink ones right next to them.

“Buy bubblegum, it’s easily the best flavor.” Eddie’s face was tinted pink as he started to realize what he just did and how his hand was still on Richie’s, but he definitely wasn’t gonna let it show.

Richie blushed and took a handful of about sixteen, after all, he needs a lot to keep him going throughout the week. “Thanks for the advice, Eds.”

“Anytime,” Eddie squeaked.

They stood in silence for a few seconds before Richie nodded his head over to the cash registers. “Any chance you’ll check me out of this place?”

“Unfortunately, no, but I’ll see you around…” he trailed off and furrowed his eyebrows in the most adorable way possible, “uh, I didn’t get your name.”

“Oh! It’s Richie! Well, it’s Richard but that’s so grossly formal, so, y’know, call me Richie.” He was rambling, he knew that but Eddie’s smile and bright eyes made him nervous.

“Well, Richie, I’ll see you around.”

Richie never felt to pained to watch someone walk away. So, as he walked away after paying $0.50 for sixteen suckers, he swore he’d show back up and ask the boy out. Nobody was going to stop him either.

That was six weeks ago. Every day since then, Richie walked in, talked and poorly flirted with Eddie, then he bought a single bubblegum sucker and then walked out telling himself that he would ask Eddie out the next day. Now, to Richie’s credit, he was actually learning a lot about the smaller man every single day. He found out that he grew up in a small town not too far from Richie’s own, he had no mom but he lived with a wonderful dad that he adored, he was the same age as Richie, and he was gay. That last one made things at least ten times easier for Richie. In return, Richie liked to think that Eddie knew quite a bit about him too. He talked about his parents who worried about him, but he loved them dearly, his struggle to quit cigarettes, his not so glamorous job at a small diner, and that he was bisexual. Meanless to say, Richie felt like he opened up more to Eddie than he had anyone in his whole life and it was only in six short weeks.

Today, Richie once again swore he would ask Eddie out. He would! He just needed the right moment that’s all. He walked into the store and looked over to Stan and smiled. Stan had yet to say more than a few words to him, but he constantly gives Richie this dude are you serious look after Richie sees Eddie. After saying hi to Stan, he turns to the sucker aisle. Sometimes Eddie is down that aisle, other times Richie picks up his sucker and goes on a little hunt for the boy he likes so much. Eddie isn’t down the aisle today, so Richie figures he’d grab his bubblegum sucker and leave, but there wasn’t any. The only suckers left were cherry and grape, the flavors Richie grew to find disgusting thanks to various conversations with Eddie.

Richie was just about to turn around and find Eddie but he didn’t need to look far. Eddie was standing right behind him in casual clothes, ones that Richie almost full on swooned over, and he held two handfuls of bubblegum suckers. He had a warm blush spread across his cheeks and a nervous smile that Richie believed to be the cutest thing.

“Um,” Eddie squeaked out, “you’re gonna think this is stupid…”

“No no!” Richie cried out, “please continue.”

Eddie snorted and walked closer to him, “well, I have no script planned out but I was really hoping you’d go out with me tonight…”

Now it was Richie’s turn to blush from head to toe.

“It’s just that… We talk every day and I liked you since the day I met you, I’ve been kind of beating myself up over not asking you out sooner, ha. So… What do you say?”

Richie looked at him completely dumbfounded, yeah, he really liked Eddie but he definitely didn’t expect Eddie to like him back! That stuff only exists in the movies, yet here it is happening to little ol’ Richie Tozier.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been silent for too long though, “unless you don’t like me back! Oh god did I misread everything-”

“Oh fuck no!” Richie cried out, “I’ve been trying to ask you out for… literally a month, I really fucking like you!”

Eddie smiled at him and let out a loud sigh of relief, “so, are you free tonight?”

Richie smiled and plucked a sucker from Eddie’s hands, “for you, Eds, I’m always free.

[oskea93]

Think of You: Part Four

-A/N: Hey guys! So sorry it took so long to get this to you all. It’s been a bit rough since I got back from vacation. I broke a bone and I got sick. And, my internet kept messing up. I’m back now and hopefully there won’t be any long gaps in the updates. I also want to apologize for any grammar mistakes that are in this update. I’ll try to go back later on and fix those. Secondly, this update may seem a little boring but the story is gonna pick up in pace and start moving forward in time. All of that will happen in the 5th update and beyond. I just want to thank all of those that have read my story and are enjoying it! It really means a lot to me :)  PS: If you want to be added to the tagged list, let me know! 

“What do you mean you turned him down?”

I removed the phone away from my ear as Mac yelled into the receiver. “He fucking wants you, Caroline! He’s actually interested and you’re turning him down?” She questioned. “Don’t get mad or anything, but are you fucking stupid?” I let out a sigh. I was growing very tired of being yelled at for my dating choices. I’m sorry that I wasn’t like her and jumped into bed with every guy that looked my way. I was not raised to be some floosy on the Sunset Strip, pining for the attention of some wannabe rock star. “You have to give him a chance, Caroline. You need to see where it goes and break out of this funk you’re in.”

“I’m not in a funk.” I whispered. “I just don’t feel like being in a relationship right now.” I could hear Mac mutter a string of curse words on the other line. “I’m not like you, Mac. I can’t just go out there and expose myself for the world to see. I don’t have that type of attitude and I never will.” I sounded pathetic.

“First of all-”Mac started, clearing her throat. “I don’t expose myself to the world. You’re making me sound like some kind of whore on the Strip.” She expressed. “Secondly, you do have that type of attitude. Every girl has it in them somewhere, it’s just up to you to find it and set it free.” Her voice was now soft. “You know I would never push you into something if I didn’t think it would be worthwhile. Yeah, Nikki may be rough around the edges but he’s really into you. Tommy even told me that Nikki’s crazy for you, and he doesn’t even know you!”

My heart was telling me to trust her but my brain was on guard duty. Nikki Sixx was very handsome in his own way but he was too dangerous. He reeked of sex, drugs, and rock n roll. He was everything that my parents warned me about. They would have a heart attack if I were to bring him home for Easter Dinner or any occasion for that matter. I would no doubt be booted from the family, and I’m an only child! “Caroline!”

I snapped out of my thoughts, “I can’t.” I quickly stated. “ I can’t be with someone like him. I don’t care how good of a guy you think he is or if he’s the leader in the church choir, he’s just not for me.” I rambled.  My brain was back in charge, pushing my poor heart into the shredder.

“Dammit, Caroline!” Mac seethed through the phone. I knew she was going to be mad but it was my life, not hers. I have to think about what’s best for me and me only. “I hate to say this but you need to grow the fuck up, Caroline.” I was a little taken back by her statement. I was the most mature out of the two of us. “You need to get your head out of your ass and actually live your fucking life. You’re twenty-fucking-one years old but you’re acting as if your five and still afraid of catching cooties on the playground. Grow the fuck up, suck some dick, and live a little!”

I stayed silent, not sure if she was done yelling at me or not. “This isn’t fucking Georgia. Your mom and dad aren’t here to reprimand your every move anymore. You’re a grown ass woman who has the world at her feet. You’re a grown ass woman who not only has brains but the looks of a fucking Hollywood starlet. You’re fucking beautiful, Caroline and a very sexy rock star wants you for you. He wants you because you’re real and that’s hard to find in this town.” I picked at my nails as her words seemed into my head. “Yeah, he may not be the young, outstanding man your parents want you to be with but he may just be what you needed in your life to get you out of this slump.”

I tried my best to take Mac’s suggestions to heart but I was still holding back. My heart was pleading with my mind, trying to convince it that Mac was right on every level. Nikki probably was a nice guy but his whole world was everything I disagreed with. I guess you could blame my parents for my ways of thinking. From a young age, they drilled into my head that I needed to meet and marry a boy with good Christian values. He needed to be a hard-working guy with a good head on his shoulders. God needed to come first in his life and then of course me. Basically, he needed to be just like my father and nothing less. The only problem with that was I had met a guy like that in the past. My very first boyfriend was similar to my father. He was a church going guy and your typical country boy. He loved the Lord first and those he surrounded himself around second. The only thing was that it was all an act. He played a role on Sundays and Wednesdays. He would act one way in front of the congregation and then turn into a different person on the other five days. He was a real piece of work!

My parents wanted me to marry him but I decided to pursue my dreams instead. To say they were disappointed would be an understatement but I didn’t want to be tied down like my mother was. When I was little, I would ask my mom what her dreams were when she was my age. She would tell me how she wanted to be a librarian since she loved to read. She would tell me different stories that she had memorized, acting them out as if we were right in the pages. The way her imagination worked was incredible. The only thing was that her imagination only came out when it was just her and I. Her love if fiction and books in general never showed up when my father was involved. My mom was your typical housewife. She was my very own June Cleaver. She committed herself to her husband and child, never taking time for herself. Now that I’m an adult, it’s very sad to think of my mother in that way. She deserved so much more…

“Earth to Caroline!”

“What?” I blurted out.

Mac let out an annoyed sigh, “Just get your ass dressed and meet me at the Rainbow.” Before I could interject, Mac ended the phone call. “Fabulous.” I muttered as I hung up the phone. I looked over at the clock and saw that it was far too late to be going to the Rainbow. Not only would it take me an hour to get ready but then it would take even longer to get there. It was Saturday night and everybody in Los Angeles would be on the Strip. Mac didn’t even like the Rainbow, so didn’t understand why she wanted to go there.

I sat in the same spot for another 10 minutes before I dragged myself to the bathroom to get ready. It was hotter than blazes outside today and the heat was still there as nighttime was nearing. I decided on a simple skater dress with flowers and a pair of strappy sandals. I pulled my hair off my neck and into a high ponytail and kept my makeup light. The last thing I needed was my makeup running down my face due to the heat. I grabbed my keys and purse and made my way out the door.

“Why the fuck am I even friends with her!” I yelled out loud as I sat in LA traffic. The drive was going okay for the first 15 minutes but as I delved deeper into the city, the cars were bumper-to-bumper. People were walking in between the cars to get to the other side of the street and people were laying on their car horns as if they were playing musical horns. The heat was not helping the situation either. I looked down at my watch and saw that it was 20 till nine. I had left my apartment at 7:55! I had been in traffic for almost an hour and for what reason I have no idea. If Mac isn’t there when I arrive, I might just kill her…

She wasn’t here.

At first I thought that she could have been caught in the same traffic jam as I was but I soon realized that it was all a setup when I saw Nikki Sixx walk through the door. As soon as I saw him, I placed my menu in front of my face, trying my best to hide as I watched him try to find who he was looking for. Unfortunately for me, I was the person he was looking for. A giant smile appeared on his face when he spotted me. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I laid the menu back onto the table. “Well, well, well-“ He smiled. “I figured it would just be Mac, Tommy, and I but I’m so happy you showed up.” I looked up at him unamused.

He slowly removed his leather jacket and took the seat in front of me. “What are you doing here?” I asked. A smirk appeared across his lips as he leaned forward. “I was invited.” He whispered. I rolled my eyes again. “You keep doing that, your eyes are gonna get stuck in the back of your head.” I narrowed my eyes at him as the waitress made her way over. I watched as she spoke to Nikki first. It was clear that she was flirting with him but he wasn’t paying her any mind. “I’ll have a Jack and Coke.” He simply told her. I was a bit shocked to say the least. I think the girl was even shocked. She didn’t seem to take it too well, especially when it was my turn to tell her what I wanted. She basically rushed me throughout my order and I would be surprised if I receive what I wanted.

“She digs me.” Nikki smiled as soon as the girl walked away. “Too bad the feeling isn’t mutual.” I couldn’t help but smile slightly as I leaned back into the booth. The girl quickly made her way back and dropped off our drinks, making sure to give Nikki a look before walking away. “She’s not really my type anyway.” Nikki spoke as he mixed the liquids together.

“Why’s that?” I questioned. He smirked as he continued to stir his drink. I don’t even know why I asked, I’m sure it was something superficial.

“She’s not you.” I could have sworn my heart stopped for a second. I may have also gone deaf during those seconds. I just stared at him. Was he being serious? “What?” I chocked. My mouth was suddenly dry as well.

He looked up from his drink, his expression suddenly serious. “She’s not you.” He spoke again. “In case you haven’t noticed, I really like you. Hell, I’ve liked you the moment I saw you walk out of our show.” His voice was softer, more intimate. “You intrigue me, Caroline.

I looked down at the table, unsure of what to say or do. I never had someone tell me that I “intrigued them.” He could have any girl he wanted. I’m sure there were girls all over the Strip that would do anything to get his attention, even the waitress was trying. “Why me?” I blurted out. “Why pick me?” My brain was in overdrive. “You could be with any girl on the Sunset Strip but you’re picking me. Why? I’m a second-grade teacher who goes to bed at eight o’ clock at night and spends her weekend either doing laundry or watching The Facts of Life. I don’t listen to the music you play or like. The only time I go to parties is when Mac drags me there and I usually end up leaving five minutes after I arrive. I’m a very boring person!” I rambled. “I don’t enjoy parties or hanging out with people I don’t know. I enjoy going to the grocery store or even the library. I don’t dress sexy or even own anything considered sexy. According to Mac, I dress like I’m a 50-year-old widow. I’m not like the other girls on the Strip or California for that matter.” I was talking so fast that I was out of breath.

Nikki had a giant smile spread across his face. “Why are you smiling like that?” I asked. He leaned forward in his seat, “You’re right-“ He began. “I could have any girl on the Strip but every girl on the Strip is exactly the same. Teased out hair, tight clothes, too much makeup, and a career that involves taking their clothes off. You may think that’s what I want but I want normalcy. I want boring. I want grocery shopping, library card owning, Facts of Life watching normalcy.”  

I didn’t know what to say. Was he being serious? He didn’t strike me as the type that would sit around on a Saturday night and watch sitcoms. “I’ve rendered you speechless.” He chuckled. “I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or not.” Before I could respond, the waitress came back with our food. Nikki thanked her with a smile, causing her ego to grow even more. I couldn’t help but just stare at my food. I was suddenly not hungry anymore This guy was into me, at least that’s what he was leading me to believe. “Why aren’t you eating?”

I looked up at Nikki, a piece of spaghetti hanging out of his mouth. I couldn’t help giggle at the sight. “It’s really good, you know.” He smiled. He truly was an idiot, but he was a pretty cute idiot….

“So- Does this mean you’ll go out with me again?”

I rolled my eyes, a smirk also making its way across my lips. We had just finished a nice dinner and here he was asking the “important” question as he liked to call it. “You gonna answer me?” He placed his arm beside my body, partially trapping me against the car. I looked at his arm and then to his face. “I don’t know.” I stated. “Why should I?” It looked as if his eyes were going to bulge out of his skull. I usually wasn’t the type of girl to lead a guy on. If I was into him and he was into me, then I would totally agree on a second date. There was something different when it came to Nikki. I found it funny to lead him on and keep him wondering. It was almost like a game for me and I wanted to see how long it would take to win or even lose. In all honesty, I enjoyed our dinner together. He was not only devilishly handsome but also witty and smart. He may have the rock star looks but there was so much more.  I liked it and I liked him.

“Tell you what-”He began. “If you want to see me again, Motley is playing our first huge gig on Friday. It’s our first mega show as a band and I would love to see you front row.” He expressed. “Hopefully this time you stay the whole show and don’t walk out.” His signature smirk danced across his face as he stared down at me.

I gave him a small smile, “Have a good night, Nikki.”

I slowly turned toward my car door and stepped into the driver’s seat. I looked at him once more before starting the engine and making my way out of the parking lot. I couldn’t help but look back in the rear-view mirror. He was just standing there but that damn smirk was still plastered on his face.

gif property of: @dramatique-moi

@triplehaitches @sighsophiia @divaanya @fandomshit6000 

[julianmakesmydickhard]

uncomfortably deep and personal questions

questions here

————

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

thankfully, me and my mom are super close.... we don’t talk about my dad tho

02: Who’s the last person you said “i love you” too?

man, i tell everyone that i love them. i truly love everyone that shows even the slightest bit of kindness towards me

03: Do you regret anything?

yes,

04: Are you insecure?

oh yea. part of it is my introverted, soft spoken personality, and part of it is just how negatively i see myself oop

05: What is your relationship status?

single, unfortunately lol

06: How do you want to die?

painlessly. the pain that comes with death is what scares me the most i think

07: When did you last eat?

lunch!! i had a bomb ass colombian dish,, man do my people know how cook good food

08: Played any sports?

does show choir count?? aggressive dancing with aggressive singing??

09: Do you bite your nails?

nope

10: When was your last physical fight?

i know i say that i want to slap people sometimes, but i’ve never actually done it

11: Do you like someone?

y’all, im always attracted to someone sksksk

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

yup

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

yes, but we don’t talk about him

14: Do you miss someone?

oh god yes...

15: Have any pets?

yes!! i have one lil doggie

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

i’m very tired lol. it’s like 11pm which is v late for me since i have 7am classes

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

nope, bathrooms are gross

18: Are you scared of spiders?

yes, have you seen them??

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

yes, imagine all the things you could change or prevent

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

honestly, it’s been a while, i don’t really remember

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

i’m gonna go see a play that one of my friends is starring in on saturday and then i’m gonna celebrate my birthday with my doggo on sunday

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

ahh, this is such a difficult question. i want to give my kids the childhood that i never got. but what happens if by some circumstance, i give them the childhood i had, and negatively impact their life through it?

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

i just have my ears pierced

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

english and art! math and science are my worst. i guess i function best when i’m able to use the creative and imaginative side of me whereas i fail when logic and reason come into play

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

yes yes yes and yes

26: What are you craving right now?

blueberries

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

no, never

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

yes

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

no. unless something changed in their heart and they, for some reason, felt bad for treating me so badly, and decided to weep, no

30: What’s irritating you right now?

so many things ahhh,, why do i have to be so introverted? why am i so deperate to find love, when it keeps biting me in the butt?.why can’t i make friends as easily as other people?

31: Does somebody love you?

honestly, i don’t think anyone does, maybe only my mother?

32: What is your favourite color?

auburn

33: Do you have trust issues?

oh god i wish i did. i wish i was able to keep people at a distance. i let people in and basically ask them to use my secrets, my insecurities, my whatever, to break me. and then the cycle goes on and on

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

i dreamt about me meeting billie eilish a couple of days ago. it was v nice

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

i don’t know lol, there’s not a lot of people around to see me cry i guess

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

yea, it’s not good i know

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

forgive

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

no, but it’s definitely not the worst, and i’m thankful for that

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

i don’t remember, but i do know that i was v late to the game

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

god no

51: Favourite food?

colombian food, thai food, japanese food

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

i want to believe this, but sometimes shitty things happen and i’m like wow, there’s literally no benefit or reason to why this happened except to make me feel like shit

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

kissed my doggo goodnight

54: Is cheating ever okay?

if you’re my friend, i’m just gonna say that even if you’ve cheated on someone before, i don’t see you as less of a person or a friend. people make mistakes, and it’s also part of who i am: someone who tried to look past the bad and see the good, ahhh i don’t know how to explain this the right way but i hope you understand my pov. anyways, i’ve been cheated on before and it sucked balls. so no, i don’t think it’s ever ok in a relationship. but i also don’t think that it’s something that should affect your friendship with someone. i think cheating is something that needs to be dealt with among the cheater and the cheated and shouldn’t bleed into your friendship with a random, uninvolved person. but you can totally disagree with me and that’s fine!! everyone is subject to their own opinion based on their own experiences and personalities etc.

55: Are you mean?

i don’t think so!! but then again, i can’t really be the judge of that lol. i try my hardest to be the friend that i’ve always wanted, if that makes sense. i try to be kind, and supportive, and positive, and there for them, etc.

56: How many people have you fist fought?

no one, ive never gotten into a physical fight

57: Do you believe in true love?

it’s not that i believe in true love, it’s that i hope and pray for it. i hope that one day i’ll find it

58: Favourite weather?

cold, cloudy, people walking around in big, fluffy jackets and scarves

59: Do you like the snow?

yes! i saw snow for the first time in my life a couple of weeks ago!

60: Do you wanna get married?

ahhhh,, my parents set a really bad example for good marriage. my parents’ marriage taught me that men can change over time. and that once they’re safe in the bounds of marriage, theyll stop their act, get tired of you, and act like a totally new person. and that... scares me. i don’t want a husband like my dad and i’m so afraid that the same situation will happen to me

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

yes, names like baby, sweetheart, love, honey etc. make my heart weak

62: What makes you happy?

real friends, tight hugs, platonic cuddling, romantic cuddling, acts of service, uplifting words, hand holding, forehead kisses, soft intimacy, need i go on?

63: Would you change your name?

i wold ditch my last name.. can you guess why? i’d love if my middle name became my last name, legally

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

romantically? yea

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

nothing, cuz that kind of stuff doesn’t happen to me

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

no. i try my hardest to only let my friends see the happy side of me. i don’t like burdening them with all the bad emotions i sometimes feel. my complete self would be if i shared ALL of my emotions, the bad as well as the good. but i think it’s better this way, they would most definitely get annoyed after a little bit of time

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

probably my friend tino

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

i don’t remember,, it’s been a long time since i’ve actually talks about truly deep subjects with someone personally,,

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

i want to believe it. i want to believe that i’ll one day find the person of my dreams. the person that fits so perfectly with me and is just so perfect ahhh

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

i don’t know, i’m selfish when it comes to dying. death scares me