#and the even crazier thing is that logically i know exactly why i’m feeling like this and it’s genuinely not my fault | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chronosaurusnot · 3 years

Text

VIP boy

pairing: dom!bangchan x bratty sub!reader

genre: smut

word count: 2.1k

warnings: +18, night club, mentions of alcohol, teasing (with minho), jealousy, possessiveness, bratty behavior, explicit sexual content, bathroom sex, choking, pet names, degrading, slight humiliation, fingering, oral sex (m), rough sex, unprotected sex (stay safe please), cumming, creampie

note: so the original idea was a request from my friend about chan in a night club, but after that teaser i can't get out of my mind that scene of him choking hyunjin from behind. so, this is a mix of both things, i hope you like it!

as always, i’d like to clarify that english is not my first language, so please let me know if there are any mistakes, and feel free to give me suggestions<3

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you ended up in the night club again with your friends; another night when you don’t know why you are there. it’s been a rough week, full of work and with stressful exams, so your friends insisted on getting you out to distress yourself a little bit. but between the time you’ve spent on getting ready plus all the sweaty people pushing you all around right now, you could swear you would’ve been better in your bed watching a movie or something, or even sleeping. it’s been already an hour maybe? you don’t know so you go straight to the bar to get some drink to see if time gets faster; hopefully it’ll make you less grumpy.

but when you are there, you see him on the vip section of the first floor. chan is there with his friends, talking and looking good as he always does. you start feeling like the night could maybe get a little more interesting, but when you get to see him talking with a girl that feeling changes to anger. sure, you agreed on being friends with benefits -if that was even a title or smt- so you both could be with anyone else you wanted, always respecting each other. so if he didn’t know you were there, in the same way you didn’t know he was coming too, it was okay if he wanted to be with someone else, right? but all the logic didn’t seem to care to your emotions, because you were now in a horrible mood.

you took your drink from the bar and drank it in less than a minute without taking your eyes off him and that girl. that dumb girl, she really thinks he’s hers tonight. but it’s stupid to feel like fighting over a man, so you get your mind clear and go back with your friends to tell them what you just saw to laught about it.

but when you look up again, you see chris leaning on the railing looking at you. he smiles when he notices your stare and waves at you, and after you wave back he makes gestures to let you know you can go there with them. you really wanted to play hard but you go there with your friends, following his instructions like a puppy obeys his owner.

“hey princess, you didn’t tell me you were coming” he greets you with a smile on his face. “yeah, the girls insisted on going out to destress a little bit, but i think i would have been better sleeping” you answer, trying to hide your growing excitement to see him there. “oh don’t be grumpy y/n, it’s early, we can still have a good night” he said in a cute and smirky way, an attitude that you hated and loved at the same time.

“yes i see you were already having a good time” you answer, and chris looks kinda confused. you point with your eyes to the girl he has been talking to, and he smirks at your reaction. “don’t be jealous princess, i was just talking”

you rolled your eyes at his stupid answer, and he just smiles. you hated how flirty he was and his fuck boy vibes, but there was something about him that eventually made you like him; maybe way too much. it all started as just a sex partner, but since day one you discover he was actually a super sweet, caring and fun guy, so you got really atractted to him in a matter of time. friends with benefits sounded right for both of you, but you always wanted more from him. maybe it’s his fault, cause he’s always giving you everything you want, but not only sexually; he is a pleasant man, you know he would give and do anything for his girl. and you wanted to be that girl. his only one.

and especially tonight. how could someone be so fine? he was all in black as always: black pants, black leather jacket and a black silk shirt that let you see his whole chest. “what a fucking fuck boy” you said to yourself, trying to hate him.

“what do you wanna drink, babygirl?” chan said, bringing you back from your thoughts. “your favourite one?” he continued while taking off his wallet from his pocket. you knew he was just doing it to show his hands; chan knew exactly the power his hands hold on you.

“yes, please” he smiles at your answer and goes to the bar for your drink.

but as soon as he goes, minho comes to you. “come on change that shitty face and dance a little y/n” he says while grabbing you from your arms to force you to dance with him. he takes you maybe way too closer to his body considering he is chris’s friend. but you think to yourself that maybe it’s a good idea; using this to get chan’s attention, to look at you, to make him jealous, and taking advantage to dance with a man so fine like minho. you wouldn’t be with him, sure, he is his friend; but it would be nice to at least flirt with him a little bit.

you sincerely got lost while dancing with him, so close to each other; till you notice chan looking at you both while leaning on the railing with the two cups on his hands. he looks at you in a challenging way, like wanting to see how far you can go.

and you accept the challenge, getting minho even closer to your body without cutting the eye contact with chris; you can see how his eyes turned darker, and you just smirk at his reaction. you dance a couple more minutes with minho, his hands on your waist, yours on his neck; after deciding it was enough teasing, you go back to chan playing the innocent. “he was helping me to cut out the bad mood, he’s so sweet. thank you for the drink channie”

“yeah i see, you should hang out with him.” he answers, his look darker; you prouder. “oh you think so? i mean, he seems to want to help me out to not be bored.” you answer, loving to see how your dumb plan worked.

“oh you just want to have fun, mh?” he says in a dark way, making you feel nervous and taking a big sip from your drink. “i know a place when you could have fun”.

you finished your drink in a couple of seconds, so he just takes your cup away from your hand. “why don’t you follow me, princess?”

he lefts the cups in the table, and takes you by the hand to guide you through the place. he talked to you calmly, but you knew he wasn’t not only because of the way he looked at you, but also cause he was holding you rough.

“get in, princess” chris says, letting you place to came in the bathroom. you get shocked; is a public space, but you are feeling so aroused with this situation that you just got in. chan locks the door behind you and turns you around to put you against it, resting his hand above you.

“you’ve been such a bratty, babygirl” he says, using his free hand to caress your cheek, slowly moving down to your neck. “if you were just bored, you should have told me instead of acting like a slut with my friend” chan continues while adding pressure on your neck, making you shut your legs from the feeling. he notices it and smirks in a mocking way. “are you already turned on, y/n? are you that desperate?”

he keeps on adding pressure, driving you crazy. you felt your panties getting wetter as every second passed by. so you decided to keep pushing his limits. “you’re not the only one who pays attention to me, chris. you should try better” his smile turns devilish.

“do you want me to remind you how good i fuck you, y/n?” he keeps choking you, but uses his other hand to touch you under your skirt. “do you want me to remind you whose name you repeat endless times while moaning?” he moves your panties to a side and start touching your pussy while still choking you, making you moan at the feeling of his cold hands rubbing against your clit. he laughs mockingly again at your desperate face.

“did you get this wet while dancing with minho? do you prefer his fingers over mine?” he never desease the smirk on his face, his nose touching yours and the feeling of his heavy breathing so close to you while you were cutted out of air made you go crazy. but you let out a moan after he gets two fingers inside you, making him laugh again.

“tell me, princess. tell me whose are you” you wanna answer, but he curls his fingers inside you while increasing his pace and makes you even harder to breathe. “i’m yours” you answer, and he takes his fingers out of you to put them in your mouth. you suck them instinctively, keeping eye contact with him, seeing the arousal in his eyes.

“you’re mine, y/n. no one else” you keep sucking on his fingers while his other hand finally moves from your neck to your waist, getting you closer to him. he softly moans at the feeling of his hardened dick rubbing against your hot core. “you are my baby slut, and the only one i want to please”

that was everything you needed to hear for being now completely at his will. the only thing you wanted was to be his only girl, the only one who he pleases, the only one who pleased him. you were feeling more desperate than ever now, getting crazier at the way he was rubbing his bulge against you in such a needy way, with both of his hands now on your hips, guiding you to make the touch rougher.

you remove his jacket and your eyes travel all over his chest, revealed by the thin silk. one of your hands caresses his chest, shoulders and neck, while the other one unzips his pants to get his cock out, making him moan louder at the feeling of your skin. “let me please you too, chris” you tell him in a whiny voice that makes him shiver.

you kneeled before him, and as soon as your lips touched the tip of his cock he rested both of his hands on the door that was behind you, moving his head backwards between deep groans.

“you’re such a pretty slut for me, y/n” he says and you speed up your pace. he starts to feel uncomfortable in any position, battling his urge to cum only to have you sucking on his dick for a longer time.

just when you feel his precum in your mouth he lifts you up, getting his eyes teary due to the denied orgasm. “turn around, princess. i’m not over yet”.

chan pushes your body against the door, guiding your ass close to him and lifting your skirt. he kisses your neck before pulling his cock inside you, making you both moan at the feeling of your stretched and wet pussy. “tell me who can fuck you this good, y/n?” he says while keeping a painful fast speed, tears forming in your eyes from the intense excitement.

“are you still thinking in minho, mh?” he says while he chokes you from behind, the other hand guiding your hips to move on his cock even harder. “tell me again, babygirl, who do you belong to?”

the feeling of his fast and hard pace, his hand holding you hard from your hips, his other hand cutting your air, his heavy breathing on your neck, his possessiveness, his moans; everything was making you feel extremely sensitive, desperate for a release of the tension that’s been building up. “you, o-only to you” you cried out in a broken voice.

his now clumsy moves showed you he was close too, getting weak to your submission. “only mine, y/n. f-fuck.” his last words whispered in your ear made you hit your orgasm. the feeling of your release all over his cock made him cum inside you, groaning your name in a completely fucked up way.

after a moment to catch up your breaths, he turned you back, facing you with a relaxed smile. “you’re still my girl after this, y/n. and i’ll always please my girl.”

#kpop smut #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #skz smut #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x y/n #bang chan smut #bangchan smut #bangchan x reader #bang chan x reader #bangchan x y/n #bang chan x y/n #bangchan imagines

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skylarmoon71 · 3 years

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Harry Wells x Witch Reader (Flash) Short Story: Chapter 1

“Harry get down!” The male ducked at Iris’s words, and Iris flinched, barely dodging the blaze of fire that blasted in her direction.

“Whooo! Next time make sure those cuffs are on!!” Their present metahuman had not very safe fire wielding powers. After just barely stopping him from blowing up his old job building, they were now struggling to contain him. Barry was dealing with another situation, so they were fighting to hold their own.

“Killer frost would come in handy right about now.” Iris squealed, ducking behind an overturned table, and Harry frowned, jumping to the same location. Without his gun he was a sitting duck.

“What’s the plan?” Harry asked.

“Wait it out.” she advised. They couldn’t exactly face him off. Harry raised his head to glimpse the spot of his weapon. It was on the other side of the room. If he was fast enough, he could make a break for it. Iris followed his gaze. “Harry no, we wait for Barry and the others. I don’t want to explain why you got barbecued!!”

The laughter of their assailant wasn’t very comforting.

“Come on old man, let’s see if you can outrun my flames.” He challenged. Harry’s mood was quickly depleting.

“Ready or no-” The bright flash of a light temporarily blinded the meta, and both Harry and Iris turned in the direction. She sighed in relief, assuming it was Cisco vibing in, but was surprised when a young woman jumped through the circular portal. Sporting a duffle bag too. It disappeared almost as quick as it appeared, and now all the attention shifted.

“What do we have here?” the male snickered, raising his hands as flames erupted.

“W-Watch out!” Iris yelled.

Your eyes shifted between the man standing in front of you and the two people hiding behind a desk.

“You’re kinda cute, might not set you on fire.” He spoke. Harry thought for sure you would at least react to the man that was holding fire in his palms, then again, you’d just jumped through a portal from who knows where.

“Damn it, so much for a vacation, I was so ready to kick back and relax, now I gotta deal with this.” you dropped the bag, stretching your limbs. The meta raised an eyebrow, a bit annoyed at your reaction.

“Hey! Don’t you realize you’re in some real danger. Don’t ignore me you bi-”

“Somnum.” As soon as the words left your lips his eyes shined blue, and he fell to the ground, unmoving. Iris and Harry released a breath, now they were facing an entirely different problem. When you saw the guarded way they were looking at you, you waved your hands around.

“O-Oh shit no I didn’t kill him or anything, he’s just asleep!” you said hurriedly, running over and flipping him unto his back. Iris felt a bit more reassured when she saw the steady rise and fall of his chest. “See, completely fine. Maybe a moron but fine.” you grinned, and Iris picked herself from behind the desk. Harry wasn’t as welcoming. He squinted, taking slow steps to his gun, just in case.

“You really saved us there. Thank you.” Iris moved closer with a friendly smile which you returned. “Of course, fighting demons is sort of my thing.” Iris’s brows furrowed. “Demons?” you nod. “Yeah, what else could he be. Humans don’t exactly have magic powers am I right?” you laughed at your own joke, and Iris realized at that moment that maybe she didn’t really understand this. She thought for sure you were a meta. “He..he wasn’t a demon, he’s a meta.”

“A what now? “

You had no idea what metahumans were, so the theory of you being one was completely off.

Harry grabbed his gun, charging it up and pointing it at you.

“Who are and what do you want!”

“Harry!” Iris scolded.

“What, she just pops up from a circle light and knocks that meta out without so much as a flinch. I think we should be a little more cautious. “

You were still smiling widely at Harry. He didn’t know what was more unsettling, the fact that you didn’t look the least bit intimidated, or the way your smile directed at him was giving him weirdly calming vibes.

“I’m a witch!” you chirped.

“Come again?” Harry spoke.

“Witch, you know, magical powers, fighting demons and other evil magical creatures. I know what you’re thinking, brooms and pointing hats which personally I’d like to say is a bit offensive if you really think about it and-” The whiplash of wind smacked into your face and your eyes widen at the man now standing at the dark skinned women’s side. He was wearing a suit and all.

“Woah, that’s a lot of red..”

“Iris are you okay, what happened? I got a notification that the lab was under attack. “ He seemed distracted with his worry for the woman, and she quickly reassured him.

“I’m good Barry, after you guys dropped that meta off he kind of went on a rampage. The cuffs got loose.” Barry looked over, now noticing the way Harry was still holding a gun, when he followed he saw the very unconscious male, and an unfamiliar woman.

“Uh, hi.” he said a bit awkwardly.

“Sup.” you greeted.

“Who umm, who is this?” he inquired.

“(Y/N), (L/N) at your service. Full fledged witch.”

“A...witch?”

“Yep! So you guys get any food around here. Been travelling for a while. “ you just started walking around, in search of a fridge it would seem. Barry’s brows knitted and Iris sighed.

“Interesting...”

That was an understatement.

~~~~

“So while we were out superheroing, you guys found a wizard?” Cisco voiced.

“Witch.” you corrected, munching on your fries.

“Well, I’m just glad you came in when you did, you really saved us.” Iris thanked.

“We had it handled.” Harry groused from his side. He was messing with some type of machine, and you just scrunched your nose at him. In which he blinked in confusion. “Please tell me why again we’re entertaining this kid.”

“Excuse me I’m thirty-five! Although I’m flattered by your compliment.”

“You’re older than me?” Barry asked in confusion. You nod. “What, do I really not look like it.” It did make sense why those bouncers always asked you for ID before entering.

“What can I say, got good genes.”

Iris was still watching you with a little smile. You smiled back of course, a bit confused, but still happy that she wasn’t as mean as Harry. Barry noticed, and he had a feeling he knew why his wife was looking at you so fondly. He reached over, giving her arm a squeeze, and she looked up at him, glowing. There was a secret exchange between the both of them.

“Can I just comment that you guys are so cute, kind of remind me of Harry and Macy, if they ever stop avoiding the obvious that is.”

“Wait, there’s a Harry in your world too?”

“Well yeah, but he isn’t like Mr. Grumpy over there. Plus he british. He’s a whitelighter.”

“What’s that?” Cisco was as expected curious about all you had to offer. He’d been quizzing you since he got back from as he phrased ‘superheroing.’

“They're like guardians, they protect witches like me. Macy and her sisters, their witches like me. I needed to take a break from the whole helping save the world thing. It seemed safe now so I thought I’d do a little universe jumping. My day job was getting a little stressful too. My brother thought I could use the relaxation so he’s running our business right now. I wonder sometimes if we’re even related because the guy loves working. Guess you get that way when you work long enough and I feel like I’m rambling, am I rambling?”

“Annoyingly.” came Harry’s flat response.

“Kay..so do you guys mind if I stick around town for a while. I can even help with your little meta problem which is even crazier than fighting demons every once in a while. “

You were grinning so widely, Barry didn’t really have the will to turn you down.

“S-Sure why not.”

“Are you serious Allen, for all we know this whole story could be made up. Witches, really? What if she’s just some psychopathic meta.”

“First of all, ouch, I’m not some psycho.” he looked utterly unimpressed.

“Is it really that hard for you to believe in magic, you fight superhuman people on the daily. “

“They were brought about by science, logical explanation. Magic isn’t real. No proof, no logic.”

You shifted from your seat, dusting your hands. Stepping closer, you stopped when you were face to face with him. He was pretty tall now that you were closer.

“Handsome.”

He was still somewhat glaring at you, and the others in the room were watching in anticipation.

“Let our eyes reveal what cannot be seen, and show those what seems make believe.” you turned your palm, and Harry’s gaze shifted to the pink light now emitting from your hand.

“Terra, ventus, ignis, aqua.”

Right before his eyes, he could see the elements swerving in your hand. The four major elements connected, right before they rose, in seconds the light from you dissipated, flashing quick and evaporating, leaving nothing but bright specs of what appeared to be crystals. Harry gaped.

“Awesome…” Cisco muttered.

“Somethings in life aren’t logical Harrison, doesn’t mean they don’t exist. Love, fear, hope...these are all things that exist, but we can’t see it, touch it, does that deter the belief in its existence?”

Harry was speechless. This time when you watched him, you were just beaming, and he couldn’t comprehend why it erupted a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. You just stared at each other, after a few silent moments, Harry moved his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses. Without another word he was walking off. You watched him until he made it around the counter.

“I think he likes me.”

Cisco laughed, and so did everyone else in the room.

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lesserfandomappreciation · 3 years

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Hello! I saw you wrote for Toriko and nearly went wild. Can I request headcanons for Coco dating a blind, semi-feral chef who’s just not scared of him? Kinda like the “extrovert adopts introvert” thing. SFW and NSFW please! (Coco is a bottom and no one can convince me otherwise)

“Kinda”? This is absolutely an extrovert adopting an introvert. Always glad for Toriko!

Also this wound up being a partial scenario - the feral chef demanded a short story.

Coco and the blind, feral chef with 0 self-preservation skills (Toriko)

The 4 Heavenly Kings. Throughout the world of gourmet, there are no finer Gourmet Hunters to partner with. For years Chefs from around the world have been unable to do so. The walls around the 4 Heavenly Kings were tall and strong - those that didn’t live in self-imposed isolation were in jail. It was a tragedy Chefs had to accept - some partnering with lesser Gourmet Hunters in an attempt to cover the wound, others refusing partnership in it’s entirety.

Then. Toriko, one of the Heavenly Kings, Gourmet Hunter Extraordinaire, self-isolated due to boredom. Befriends a chef.

A world of opportunities opened.

“There’s a thousand things I want to cook. Everyone wants to cook safe, little things - who the hell wants that?! We live in a world where there’s a mountain giant made of sugar rocks - why would you settle for some fruit when that’s right there?!” S/o threw hands up in the air, aggravation etched onto their face. “But there’s a problem - I’m a chef. Not a Hunter. Half the stuff I wanna cook is too dangerous to hunt on my own! Sure, it’s not done much to stop me so far but the very nice Government agent was pretty firm about me attempting to break in again instead of hiring a Gourmet Hunter would mean getting arrested, and like, there’s nothing in prison worth cooking?! Ya’ know?!”

Coco nodded along at their explanation with a blank look on his face, not getting any of this. At all. They’re going to spill the tea he poured for them if they keep gesturing so wildly. Should he stop them?

Frankly he had no idea how they got up here. Well, he does but he has no idea what logic was driving them. The sun usually woke him up first thing in the morning. A cheery chef grinning ear to ear, dirt under their nails from scaling up his mountain, demanding to speak to him about ‘a hell of a deal that you’re lucky to be getting’ was a new alarm clock he wasn’t aiming at getting. Especially one that went around knocking on self-imposed hermits minding their own business’ doors at 4:00 AM in the gods-damned morning.

S/o slammed down more tea before clacking the cup against the table. “That got me to thinkin’ - every sissy Gourmet Hunters run for the damn hills when I mention some of the weaker stuff I wanna cook. The Government Agents insist I get one every time they send me a notice-” Coco closed his eyes, quietly offering a prayer of patience for those poor souls. “-everybody says they’re not strong enough. SO! Why not go for a Gourmet Hunter who is known for being stupid strong? It only makes sense! I got a ticket, got directions, realized you had no stairs -very rude by the way, at least make in handicap accessible you ass - and here I am! What do you think?”

“I think you certainly are a very determined spirit.” He smiled at them grinning at the compliment. Their passion was to be commended. As... strangely as it manifested in their actions. “You want to hire me as a Gourmet Hunter then?”

“As my Gourmet Hunter.”

He chuckled. “Ah. Of course. Your Gourmet Hunter.” He drummed his fingers against his cup. He let out a pensive hum. “Certainly a tempting offer. I imagine my brothers have received a similar offer?”

“Fuck no.” Coco caught his dropped cup. “Why the fuck would I ask for their help?”

Coco coughed to keep the tea inside. “Forg- guh, -forgive me, I choked on my tea,” why the ...what they said.. wouldn’t they ask for their help?! “Why would you not? They are equally talented hunters.” If not more so - said his inner voice. A poison Gourmet Hunter was not exactly popular - though he did have his fair share of requests, Coco’s abilities made him a difficult Gourmet Hunter to request. And the others (two of the others, anyways) were more amiable to the idea of requests from such a unique character as the one in front of him. “They would certainly be able to do the same as myself-”

“But they’re not YOU!” S/o’s hands slammed against the table, their face dangerously close when they leaned forward. “...I know I look like a mess of a chef. People act like I’m either too wild or too unable to take me seriously. I’ve never met anyone able to keep up with me. BUT!” They stuck out their hand, pointing at his chest. “You can! You’re amazing - you do amazing shit as if it was nothing, you’re humble, you understand how tough it is out here. And I know you can be more amazing when we work together.”

With a huff they leaned back, stretching out their hand to him. “I want to work with you. Got a problem with that?”

Coco blinked blankly at them. At the dirt-covered hands that had clawed their way to be there. And smiled.

“No,” he said, clasping their hand with his own. “None at all. Where do we start?”

SFW

Coco is mostly in awe of their extroverted nature. This is a person who has likely faced extra challenges (due to both their blindness and their... unique approach to life) to get in their profession on top of the standard tests every chef must face and still, still keeps themselves entirely up-beat and unafraid of the world. They remind him a bit of a younger Toriko, only somehow more wild than him (what a frightening thought..). He can’t help but enjoy some of their crazier antics.

He does however have the foresight to pick them up by the back of the shirt in several instances. S/o is a feral kitten, and Coco is a resigned mother cat stuck getting them out of trouble.

This is a couple that talks a lot. S/o is certainly a talker just out of their very nature of being, happily ranting about new recipes, ideas, what they experienced that day, or even the must random question out there. Coco is just as much a talker, only with certain people. Once their connection is established they have a lot of long-winding conversations. Some of them get to be pretty deep!

He does however wish they would save the deep questions for when there’s sunlight rather than 3 minutes after minutes when he wants to sleep.

“Do animals hunt Gourmet Hunters? Are there Gourmet Hunters Hunters? Hm? Coco why do I hear your sleeping bag being dragged away?”

Coco falls for them first. He already likes them from their straight-forward nature, but their continued (much-neeed) positivity in his life just cements that into romantic affection. He pines for a while about it - it’s up to s/o to figure out he likes them.

...Which granted is a little hard since he doesn’t act on it and when he talks about it he’s incredibly cryptic about his feelings. Good luck!

When they do get together, touch is something they’re going to have to be patient with. Because of his powers he is wary of letting his emotions get the best of him in the wrong time, so slowly adjusting to getting more affection is a requirement.

Once he is used to it, any affection S/o has given him will be returned 10 fold. Not in public but they will be dragged into his lap when he’s reading something.

NSFW

You’re not wrong about him being a bottom, though I will say he’s also a service top. He wants to please them so so so badly.

He does however prefer for them to take the lead. Coco does not strike me as someone experienced. Makes sense, considering his abilities - I too wouldn’t be confident enough to even hold a hand, much less have sex, if my touch could wilt a mammoth. Having his partner on top of his, breathing into his ear sweet teasing words while their hands wander around his body. Gently dom him and he’s like puddy in one’s hand.

If his partner wants him on top, they can order him to please them by any means necessary - drive them crazy the way they know he can. Coco will be undone by this, and while he adores the gentleness of lovemaking, these orders will bring out a more rugged side of sexual appetite.

Coco has a very low sex drive so it is rare he wants sex. That said, all his s/o has to do is tell him they “want something special” from him and he’s down to serve their needs. Just because he’s not hard for sex at that moment doesn’t mean his hands and tongue are unable to get the job done.

Fingering master. His oral/blow techniques are fine, but his fingers- holy shit are they dexterous little bastards. There is no sight lovelier to Coco than his partner ordering him to keep going as his fingers make them lose their mind.

#toriko #toriko imagine #imagine #lemon #scenario #this was longer than anticipated #coco deserves love okay?

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ghost-ghost-baby · 4 years

Text

Scales pt. 4a //yan!bakusquad fantasy au//

a/n: im so fuckin sorr this took so long lol, it was actually written but life was too crazy to edit/post. i had to make this angsty so it wouldnt turn out horny

Pt. 5

warnings: swearing, mature themes? mentions of past abuse/trauma

Things felt weirdly normal when you woke up, and despite the memories that flashed through your head you kept your cool. You needed to be logical, it was the only way you’d be able to get out of here alive. Denki was in your arms when you finally opened your eyes, and a weight lifted from your chest. Oh thank gods you were together. That made things easier. The room was… undoubtedly luxurious, Shigaraki sure knew how to play nice when he wanted. Horror shot through you when you saw the iron collar clamped around Denki’s neck. Fuck, you knew what that was. you’d seen it used before, and Denki wasn’t going to be able to help with it on. You’d need a diamond to get it off, unless you could get the key. Fucking Shigaraki, he’d be here soon to gloat. The fucker loved nothing more than being validated for what he’d done.

“I didn’t appreciate your little stunt.” Shigaraki finally showed his face, and your eyes narrowed as you stared at him from the bed.

“If you were bored you should have just told me. I thought you liked the solitude while I was busy, but obviously I was wrong.” He took a seat next to you and your skin crawled, had he gotten crazier? “But that’s all in the past now, and you have your own pet to keep you entertained.” Oh yeah he absolutely lost it while you were gone. You stayed silent as you watched his fingers trail over your leg to Denki’s sleeping form next to you. The threat was clear despite him staying silent. If you tried anything, he’d take it out on Denki.

“Thank you.” You had to force the words out, any feelings you had right now didn’t matter. You just needed to keep Denki safe, and that meant keeping Shigaraki happy until you could get away. It worked, his chapped lips stretched into a grin as he made himself comfortable besides you, showing no intention of leaving any time soon.

“They did WHAT?” Katsuki flung his sword across the room, the metal sending up a puff of feathers when it hit the bed. He’d just gotten back from a war meeting, and this was the first thing he had to hear?

“How dare that dry ass motherfucker send his cronies here, I’ll get Y/n and Denki back myself.” He snarled, and Hanta had to jump on him before he could leave .

“Katsuki, calm down, if you go rushing in it’ll only make the situation worse.” Mina crouched down, making sure she was in the blondes line of sight so he had no choice but to listen.

“Yeah man, Izuku can help, right?” Hanta added, still pinning Katsuki down.

“And Shoto too, we have allies Katsuki, we don’t have to just rush in.” Mina glanced at Kiri, who nodded in agreement despite the fact he wanted nothing more than to bolt to wherever you were. He just needed to make sure you were safe. At least Denki was with you, the two of you could take care of each other for the time being, and it would be enough that the bond wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“Fine, get them here, now! We need to do this quickly!” Katsuki gave in with a snarl, the more people he had to crush that extra, the better.

Fingers tapping your thigh made you jump, and you dropped the book in your hands as you turned to Denki. He’d just been…dozing, barely waking up to eat and drink.

“Oh, you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“Weird, kinda out of it… where are we?” Gold eyes darted around the room, horror growing in them with every passing second. “What happened to Mina?” Denki was starting to panic, and you had to grab his hand to make him look at you.

“She got away, I sent her back to Katsuki so she could get help.” You soothed, hand smoothing over his hair. “You know what they're like, I'm sure they're planning something right now.” He didn't look convinced, and you wondered how he hasn't noticed the iron around his neck.

“Why can't we just break out?”

“If there's a sure opportunity for us to escape I'll take it, but you can't fight with the collar on, and I can't get it off while we're here.” You grabbed his wrists to stop him tearing at it, there was no use.

“Don't try to use your powers, okay? I'm not sure what it'll do, but the ones I've had have never been good. Your powers will activate the selected gem, and depending on that the collar will do something. I don’t want to risk it.”

“How do you know all this?” Denki squinted at you, and you dropped his arms, hands folding in your lap as you thought about how to explain that.

“I um, always had a talent for magic, my teachers kept track and when I graduated Shigaraki noticed and I uh… didn’t exactly go along with him at first, so he chose a… harsher…? Way for me to learn and fit into his… role for me.” The words stuck in your throat on the way up, you never thought you’d have to tell anyone that.

“I know it might be… a lot, and I promise I’ll tell you everything when we get out of here, but you need to trust me, okay Denki?” You couldn't look at him, your whole plan needed him, you couldn’t leave him here alone.

“Okay Y/n, but I’ll hold you to that promise.” You couldn’t help startle when Denki surged forward, nuzzling your neck and wrapping his arms around your waist. This wasn’t the reaction you expected, he went along so easily?

“O-Okay, just follow my lead, he needs to let his guard down and I… know how to do that.”

“The meeting was awful, honestly that scum are lucky I have you to calm me down… so I don’t have to resort to more extreme methods.” You’d tuned out most of Shigaraki’s rant, Denki had fallen asleep and you didn’t see the point in waking him for this. The king had his head in your lap, your fingers carding through his hair with a familiarity you hated. Shigaraki turned so he was facing you, one hand coming up to caress your cheek and you were lucky he was delusional enough to think the shudder that ran through you was good.

“Hmm? What happened this time?” You forced the words out, pretending to care really fucking sucked. His answer was lost as Denki started to stir next to you, oh god why’d he have to wake up now? He was gonna say something bad and it’d be over for the both of you. Shigaraki was still mumbling on while your eyes were fixed on Denki, humming your acknowledgment at the appropriate intervals so he’d think you cared.

“I swear it’d be better if I just ripped their heads off, then I could just stay here with you.” These words were mumbled into your skin,, Shigaraki going from laying in your lap to straddling you and hiding his face in your neck before you could do anything to stop him. You hated when he got like this, it could last for days if he was feeling particularly insecure or clingy.

“But then you’d have nobody to do what needs to be done, and you’d be spending even less time here.” Denki spoke and your heart stopped, oh god oh god ohgod. Shigsraki pulled back to look at the blonde, eyebrows raised as he considered that option.

“You have a point.” The king shrugged before he went back to your neck as if nobody had spoken, lips brushing against your skin as he grew bolder. Unease surged through you at the contact, the force of it through the bond almost made Denki transform, but he remembered you needed him to be good so you could get them out of here, and so he settled for buying his face in your thighs. He really hoped you knew what you were doing, and that the others were planning something. A knock at the door had your heart jumping into your throat, and after a growled answer from Shigaraki, Dabi entered the room. His voice was bored as ever while he spoke, something about needing Shigaraki back in the war room because their scouts had spotted something. A grunt left the king as he started to get up, unable to stop himself nipping at your neck before he pulled away, the red already blooming had him satisfied enough to slink over to Dabi and, in turn, leave you and Denki alone again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry this is all my fault-“ your anxiety took over the second the door closed, throat clogging up and tears clouding your vision. Kiri should have just left you to die, then none of them would be in this mess.

“C’mon, you’re okay, come back to me now.” Denki pulled your chest to his, forcing your breathing to follow his as he focused on calming you down. Your eyes slowly came back into focus, gold was the only thing you could see for a moment before Denki pulled back.

“Is that better?” His hand brushed the tears off your face, a comforting smile on his face. How could he look so angelic in this situation?

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You wiped your nose, humiliation setting in as you realised how pathetic you must look, you needed to be stronger if you were going to get out of here alive.

“There’s nothing to apologise for, this is a tough situation.” Denki shrugged, he didn’t want to pressure you into talking about your past, but something big had obviously happened. Your unease was still flooding through the bond, easily alerting Denki to the fact you weren’t fine, worse, you were lying to him about it. He just wanted to help. Maybe he should try and distract you? Opting to cheer you up any way he could, Denki cuddled into your side, making sure he was monitoring how you felt though the bond. Your gaze shifted as the blonde rubbed over your skin, making a noise you could only describe as a croon while his face nuzzled against your neck. The noise was… weirdly comforting, and it wasn’t long before you felt some of the anxiety leaving you. Denki was over the moon, you were responding so well! His crooning picked up at how happy he was, and you let your head rest on his shoulder, your own hands finding his and intertwining with them. You were almost asleep when the door opening had you jumping awake, Denki slowly blinking as he figured out what had spooked you. Confusion was all that remained when you saw Dabi there, Shigaraki nowhere to be seen as he closed the door behind him.

“I talked to Shoto, I’m gonna help you out.”

“Dabi agreed to help us, but in return he wants Shigaraki alive, for himself. It’s the best chance we have, he’s the kings right hand.” Shoto deadpanned, completely unbothered by the snarling warrior being held back by Kirishima next to him.

“I wanna rip that bastard to shreds, fuck Dabi, we can do this without him.” Katsuki finally managed to get out after he’d been calmed down, a task that took several minutes.

“It’d take longer, you really want to sacrifice Y/n and Denki so you can kill someone?” Hanta had to help hold Katsuki back at that remark from Shoto.

“Katsu, Shoto’s right, our priority needs to be getting them quickly, not killing Shigaraki.” Mina placed her hand on Katsuki’s shoulder, the thing that finally calmed him down enough to mumble out a fine and get on with the actual planning.

“Finally, now what we’re going to do is cause a distraction on the battlefield, during which Dabi will knock out Shigaraki and get Denki and Yn to a safe destination we’ll go to after the battle. Now, onto the details…”

“You’re what? No way, it’s a trap right? Shigaraki is testing my loyalty? I’m not falling for something like this again.” You shook your head as you paced the room, Denki still sitting on the bed and Dabi lounging on a chair next to the desk. It was exactly the kind of thing that bastard would do.

“Bakugo told me to tell Denki about the dandelions.” Dabi ignored your rant, instead turning to Denki and raising his eyebrows at the blonde. Lower lip between his teeth, The blonde slunk over to you, grabbing your hand tightly before he spoke.

“It’s not a trap, Y/n, he’s telling the truth.”

“You don’t know that, what if they captured someone that told him?” You hissed, eyes darting over to the nonchalant figure in the chair.

“Hey, you asked me to trust you before, I need you to trust me now. Okay?” He presses a kiss to your cheek when he was finished, and despite your best efforts that smile got to you, made you relax and squeeze his hand.

“I-Fuck. Okay, I trust you.”

Taglist under the cut (let me know if there are any problems/you want to be added)

@averydrearydiana@wolfygecko@baby-snart@ssnaketongue@that-one-piece-oftrash@emilysimaginesblog@generousdigitalartartghost@slowly-gently@toffee1812@izzys-complete-insanity@sexisquid@icecreamguru03@tessamarie22@peculiar-faerie@lunaralpha270@max7500@graduatedmelon@everstrange1@saltytocrusade@dark-side-blog2@tinyspacesaurus@shimyshimyagustd@teacaku@shinethesensational@yooalicee@radnickeltoadbat@superrllama@trinshappyplaces@kai-iaa@mini-kunoichi-universe@estellegladiolus@kirapholia@lemonmaim@skylerstorm2@phantomfunguschild@naked-canadians@meaper112@cute-cotton-tail@xxnatashahicksxx @elektraeriseros@alpacalunches@a-mistake-tbh@evienorville@kirapholia@lemonmaim

@skylerstorm2@naked-canadians@degenerate-yandere@cute-cotton-tail@xxnatashahicksxx@artificially-chill@brbgettingchocolates@redvelevetdog@zaboomanyoom@alpacalunches@bad-boquet-of-emotions@tokyohealth@okthensherlock@imlosingmyshit@smallangrynerd@cherry-mariss@frostfox382

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my-soul-sings · 3 years

Text

just my luck: chapter 7

Fandom: Wannabe Challenge Characters: Taehee x Reader

***

Chapter 7 (full)

***

Your life had officially gone up in flames. Literally.

You knew your bad luck had been getting worse and worse, but you hadn’t expected it to come down to this. Three fire trucks parked were outside your apartment building, there were firefighters scattered all around the place and a bunch of people who had been rescued but otherwise looked uninjured for the most part. The fire had already been put out, but the damage was severe. The walls of the building had been charred black, the smell of smoke and burning lingered in the stuffy air and from what you could tell, the fire had scorched and destroyed almost everything.

At a distance you spotted your landlady speaking to a police officer in tears. Your heart broke at the sight. She was a sweet old lady who didn’t deserve any of this. Would she even have a place to stay after this?

‘It’s because of you,’ a voice within you whispered, ‘you bring bad luck wherever you go.’

You shook your head, pushing that thought out of your mind. Spiralling wouldn’t do any good right now; it was the last thing you needed. In any case, you weren’t in a position to worry about other people. You were basically homeless now, and the bigger question you had to think about was: what next?

A hand rested on your shoulder. You didn’t have to look to know that it was Taehee. You knew he probably wanted to ask if you were okay, but he remained quiet, which you were grateful for. He had driven you here when you insisted on leaving to come here. Maybe it was because you didn't believe him—it wasn’t common for someone to find their home scorched to the ground, even for you. Or maybe it was because you didn’t want to believe it. The whole ride here you desperately prayed to whatever god existed out there, hoping that it wasn’t true, that maybe Taehee had gotten it wrong somehow and that you still had a home to return to at the end of this.

Of course, you had been dead wrong. And now you were sitting in the passenger seat of his car, at a complete, utter loss. There was nothing you could do now. You hadn’t even lasted a week out here on your own, so maybe this was the universe just telling you to suck it up, get your mother to forgive you one way or another, and just go along with whatever she wanted now.

You had to survive, and there weren’t any options left.

The hand from your shoulder slipped away, the missing warmth now making you feel emptier than before. But that was resolved quickly when you found yourself being pulled into his arms, with your forehead resting on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” you asked tiredly, not having the strength to push him away anymore. You didn’t have the energy for anything at the moment. You just wanted to sleep and pretend this was all just a horrible, horrible nightmare. And when you woke up, maybe everything would be alright again.

“Lending you a shoulder to cry on.” You could feel the soft vibrations of his deep, quiet voice as he spoke. He placed a hand on your head, running his fingers through your hair, patting you like you were a child in need of comfort.

“I never said I was going to cry,” you murmured, just as moisture began to burn in the back of your eyes.

“You didn’t have to,” he told you, squeezing you tighter and pressing you closer to him. The smell of his cologne was nice. “So take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

“You shouldn’t be so nice to me.” Your voice was coming out in a shaky whisper now; it was hard to keep it even when your shoulders were starting to shake as an involuntary sob escaped you.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re going to give me the wrong idea.”

“About?”

“I’ll… start to think... that you care about me.”

He chuckled, and you could feel his warm breaths on your head. “That’s actually what I’ve been hoping for.”

But you didn’t want that—having someone care for you, provide for you. Because you would end up depending on them, caring for them in return. And then eventually, you would lose them.

In the end, no one wanted to stay with the bad luck charm. Not even the woman who gave birth to you.

“I’ll be here."

Taehee’s words echoed in your mind, and you were acutely aware of his arms that were tightly wrapped around your frame and his stillness as he held you and listened to you cry into his shirt. He wouldn’t be any different. You were fairly certain of it. Maybe he knew you like he claimed he did, but as with everyone else, he would leave somewhere down the road.

Maybe for now—just for a few minutes—you could stay like this. It didn’t matter if he left eventually; you were already used to being alone.

But just for the moment, you needed this: someone to hold you, to be by your side and hold you together, before you shattered completely.

***

You ended up crying for an hour. Taehee had kept true to his word, content to let you cry for as long as you needed to. The whole time he didn’t say a word, only hugging you tightly and running his hand through your hair. By the end of it, your eyes were puffy and swollen, half of the tissue box he had in his car had been emptied, and his shirt had a huge puddle stain where you had cried.

Taehee didn’t complain, but you could tell his arms and back were sore from that awkward hugging position in the car. Although you apologised, he insisted that he was fine and that he was happy he could be here for you. He offered to drive you back to his place for the time being, and you couldn’t protest since there really wasn’t anywhere else you could go.

His kindness made you feel bad for that confrontation with him in the morning. He obviously had hidden intentions for why he was doing all this, but maybe those intentions weren’t bad.

Although, there was one thing that still bothered you somewhat…

“Earlier… Hansol, was it? He had my bags with him, saying you told him to get them for you. Why did you do that? Did you know something was going to happen?”

He was quiet. Oddly so. You assumed he was just focusing on driving, but when he remained silent even when the car rolled to a stop at a red light, you decided to ask him again. Something was definitely up.

“It’s a bit difficult to explain,” he admitted after a beat of silence, a rueful smile hanging from his lips. “You might not believe me.”

“Try me.” Crazier things had happened. Besides, there was no reason for him to lie to you at this point.

He nodded. The car began to move as the light turned green.

“Have you heard of people who can see the future?”

With a confused frown, you replied, “You mean in movies? Yeah. Sure.”

“I mean in real life. People with… what they call a sixth sense.”

You stared at him, wondering if it was a trick question of some sort. “Where is this conversation going?” you asked. “Aren’t you a doctor? I didn’t think you’d believe in this stuff.”

“Well,” he cleared his throat, “that’s because I have that ability.”

“...You can see the future?”

“Glimpses of it,” he clarified. “But getting a vision doesn’t mean I know when exactly it’s going to happen. It could happen in the next couple of minutes or in a few days; it varies. And I can only cover one person at a time.”

At this point you had heard that tone of voice enough to know that he wasn’t pulling your leg; he was being completely serious. And you’re telling me all this, because..?”

“You asked me why I had Hansol help me move your things out of your apartment.”

Oh, right. That. Wait, but that would mean—

“You saw it coming? The fire?”

He nodded, and you could already see the silent apology on his trembling lips. “When I held you in my arms that day, I saw an image of you... surrounded by flames. I panicked, so I brought you home and had Hansol help me pack your things later that night. I didn’t think the fire would happen so soon after we left. I thought I could warn the landlady or someone about it in the morning when they were awake. Sorry.”

“No, it’s not your fault,” you muttered, reeling from this information. You were beginning to understand why he never shared much about himself; you would have written him off as insane on the spot. The only reason you could believe him now was because of everything that had happened; his was the only logical explanation possible.

“Thanks for getting me out of there. And my things. Otherwise, I really would have lost everything,” you said.

Taehee smiled, casting a quick side-glance at you. “I’m just glad that you’re safe.” His voice was filled with relief. “Thanks for believing me.”

You shrugged. “It’s not like there’s another possible explanation for this.”

“Hmm… maybe I set fire to the apartment building and kidnapped you?”

A short laugh escaped you. “I think that’s the first joke I’ve heard you make, Dr. Kim.”

He grinned, casting a sideways glance at you. “You’re finally smiling.”

The curve of your lips faltered, and you turned aside to look out the window. It became quiet, save for the soft music from the radio that was playing. Strangely enough, it didn’t feel awkward just sitting here in silence, watching the clouds and cars whizz by. Your eyes lingered on the vast blue sky above. For a brief moment, its vastness made your problems feel small—and the suffocating tightness in your chest loosened little by little.

“The weather’s nice today,” you murmured. There was nary a trace of grey clouds in the distance. The sun wasn’t glaringly bright, and the trees passing you by were swaying in the wind.

“Looks like it’ll be a good day today,” Taehee agreed.

It was anything but a good day. This had to be one of the worst days in your life.

And yet, somehow, it didn’t feel so bad. Not as bad as it did an hour ago, at least. Maybe it was because you had become numb, having run out of tears to cry. Maybe it was the sky that made you and your problems feel so much smaller in comparison.

Or maybe it was simply that you didn’t feel like you had to manage it all on your own anymore, since you weren’t alone this time.

You turned your head to the side, eyeing his side profile, tracing the curves of his wavy hair, his nose, his jawline… The man next to you seemed determined to butt into your life and to help you as best as he could, for reasons he didn’t want to reveal just yet. Perhaps those reasons were as unbelievable as his claim that he could see the future.

But… since he had already revealed that to you, surely he could tell you more now?

“You said you can only cover one person at a time with your… your ability,” you began. “Why me? Why are you helping me?”

His lips turned up into a vague smile. It was difficult to decipher the emotion that briefly crossed his face. “I’m afraid you’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I believe you can see the future. What can be crazier than that?”

He stole a hesitant glance at you, and the apartment building where he lived in slowly came into view around the corner.

“It was love at first sight.”

Oh.

Stunned, you couldn’t speak a word. All you could do was stare at him incredulously.

Well, Taehee was right about one thing.

“You’re crazy,” you said, completely serious.

He only laughed, but didn’t retract his words.

#wannabe challenge #wannabe challenge taehee #kim taehee #wannabe challenge fanfiction #wannabe challenge fanfic #just my luck #my writing #posting this chapter in full just because im happy with the way the dialogue at the end turned out hehe #love shitting on romance tropes heh

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imacrowcawcaw · 4 years

Text

Eyes of Juniper Ch. 1 (A Metallica Fic)

Ao3 Link

Author (as known on Various sites): Lady Lover- Rockfic, Luluthechoosingcrow - AO3, theladylovingcrow - Deviantart and Wattpad, @sammy_bluebells - Instagram, @imacrowcawcaw - main Tumblr, @insannywestan - Sanny shipping Tumblr Pairing: Lars Ulrich/James Hetfield, Kirk Hammett/Cliff Burton, Lars/Female Character (briefly), Lars/Male Character (kinda, more just awkward one sided flirting then Lars gets rescued by his knight in a ratty Motorhead shirt) Fandom: Metallica Tags/warnings: Sex-swap AU, early 80s era 'tallica, smut, gay smut, also het smut since the whole gender switch thing, drinking and alcohol, lots of cussing and profanity, should warn that Lars goes into detail about taking a piss cuz ya know it's new to him, Idk I'll add tags per chapter as I think of shit

Notes:

1. Okay, so I spent like months thinking about whether to do this or not. On the one hand, yes this has so much potential to be fun (and I've seen some other sex swap stories i like). On the other hand, a lot of the whole sex/Gender swap thing is really stereotypical gender shit and goes against what I personally believe. But, creative juices won out and I'll try to keep true to character as much as possible while also making this funny and not too misogynistic (if that's possible).

2. This is a work in progress! I started it a year and a half ago, and now a friend is helping me continue

3. This story is inspired by the song 'Jewel of the Summertime' by Audioslave (on their album Revelations) I love this song and it is awesome you should totally go listen to it.

4. The witch-lady is inspired by Aine, Celtic goddess of love, summer, wealth, and sovereignty. I literally just googled 'goddess of love' then scrolled through a list to find someone other than Aphrodite (don't get me wrong I love Greek mythology but it just wasn't right for this fic) and came across this girl. I only did a quick Wikipedia read, I'm not planning on going too heavy into her myth and more just using her for the plot but.... If anybody is more well versed in Celtic mythology and I seem to get something wrong, please feel free to comment and I'll try my best to make it accurate!

5. Woo damn that was a lot of stuff, I don't blame you if you didn't bother reading it. Now, on with the show!

----------

1984 (Lars' POV)

The first thing I felt when I woke up was this odd sense of.... well, just something being fuckin' off. Like I was missing something, but also like I had gained something? I felt like a brand-new person, although in my gut I was still me.... Man, I must have had WAY too much Jager last night, it's fucking with my head.

I slowly peeled the itchy fleece blanket off of my body and rolled onto the floor, which was about a foot from the bare mattress. We really needed to invest in some sheets, especially if we wanted to keep bringing chicks back to the house. Apparently, most girls are not at all impressed by stained, lumpy mattresses with almost no bedding on them.

Speaking of girls and mattresses, didn't I bring one home last night? I raised my head slightly from its position from the threadbare carpet and looked at the bed, trying to see if Anna (Was that her name?) was still there. Yep, there was a naked hippy still passed out in my bed, sweet!

I groaned quietly as I stood and shuffled my way out the door and down the hall to the bathroom. It was then I noticed that I didn't really have the usual alcohol-and-early-morning-and-piss induced erection, but my bladder was still straining. Huh, weird.

Whatever. I just wanted to pee, get rid of that feeling in my gut, and get that dead possum taste out of my mouth. Pushing open the door and wincing as the creaky hinges screeched through my headache, I pulled down my boxers and reached for my dick.... What the fuck?

WHAT THE FUCK?

WHERE WAS MY MOTHERFUCKIN DICK?!

Trying not to panic, I looked down, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment so I wouldn't have to see right away. But, of course, that kind of defeated the purpose of looking down, so I opened them again. No dick. The hell was going on?

Taking a deep, calming breath, I tried to think through this rationally. My dick, for whatever reason, was not where it was supposed to be. But, my bladder was still full and begging to be released, so obviously my system or whatever was still working. That need to pee was turning into a burning pain, so I tried to come up with a solution. If I don't have a cock, then I can piss through....what, exactly? Is there anything down there at all? What is even going on!?

Pulling in another deep breath through my nose, I let it hiss out between clenched teeth as I slowly, so slowly, touched my fingers to my abdomen and moved them downwards, dreading what I would find. Annnnnd....... Yep, there it was.

Velvety soft lips, slick, pungent juices; anatomy I knew so well but never, EVER expected to feel on myself. My crisis would have to wait a minute, though, 'cause my bladder was going to explode and no dick be damned I needed to do something about it.

Gingerly sitting my ass down on the toilet (god, so weird sitting down just to piss) I tried to slowly let it out. The feeling was...well there was certainly relief of the pressure, but it also felt strange in a way I couldn't really describe. I could possibly get used to it, not that I'm planning on staying like this or anything.

Cringing as I wiped, I slowly pulled the boxers back up to my hips that I just now noticed were a little wider than usual. And my hands, were they smaller? Softer? My chest too....HOLY SHIT I HAVE BOOBS! That, I might be able to get used to.

I turned to the mirror, and was quite shocked at what I saw. There was a girl standing there, with large, doe-like green eyes staring back at me from underneath brown bangs. She had a nice tan on her upper body, although her breasts were still pale where she clutched at them, small rosy nipples poking through her fingers. A pair of black cotton boxers stretched tight around the small curve of her hips, but hung loose around her milky thighs that almost touched. And this...this chick was me. ME.

Shaking my head, I splashed some water onto my face and rubbed my eyes, hoping it was just a fucked up dream. No such luck.

I was considering hiding in the bathroom forever, because no way in hell could I let the guys see me like this, let alone figure out how to explain, when I heard a scream. It sounded a lot like Kirk's voice, so I pushed my problems to the back of my head and ran into the hallway, stopping dead in my tracks at what I saw.

Anna, or whatever her name was, stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in flowing black robes with green Celtic designs all over them. She had jewels and charms hanging from her waist, wrists, neck, and ears, each tinkling as she tossed some sort of... Powder onto a very shocked looking Kirk. Or at least, I was pretty sure it was Kirk. He (she?) seemed to be in the same boat as me as far as bodies were concerned at the moment.

With a final dusting of powder, witchy-chick turned to me and smirked. "I hope you learn your lesson, I'll be back in a week. And as for you...." She turned to Kirk, "Well, you're just too damn cute! I couldn't resist seeing what a pretty girl you'd make!"

"This is your fault? You bitch! " I yelled. "Why the hell did you do this to us? Who are you? Change us back, then get the fuck out! I don't wanna be a damn girl, and neither does Kirk!" God this was fucking insane, that chick was crazy!

She hissed at me, eyes flashing in a way that could not be human. "Now you listen, GIRL. You'll stay like this for as long as I deem fit. You need to learn some respect for women, and being one is the best way to do that. I suppose you don't remember what you did last night?" She asked, looking bored and ready lo go fuck up someone else's life.

I thought hard, then it came creeping back to me. The bar, the Jager, the flirting with a group of girls, copping a feel and getting slapped, then her changing her mind and coming home with me, talking dirty in her ear, then unworldly sex, her whispering what sounded like a spell in my ear as I came... Holy shit.

"Is this about me grabbing your ass? I'm sorry! Please don't do this!" I begged, finally starting to let the situation sink in and desperation set. This could not be happening.

"Hmph," she snorted, "Begging isn't going to get you anywhere. I've seen humans beg for much less, and they still didn't get it. No, you'll love your life as a woman for a week, both of you, and hopefully you'll come to realize the struggles and terror that comes with it. If you've learned your lessons and are truly sorry, then you will be turned back. If not... Well you'll just have to stay like this until you do."

And just like that, she turned with a flourish and disappeared into thin air. My morning could not get any crazier, I was sure if it. But, because I wasn't actually sure and was suddenly doubting all logical occurrences in the world, I knocked on the wooden railing. That done, I turned towards Kirk.

He (seriously, do I call us he's or she's now? This is so fucked up) was shaking like a leaf, looking like he'd fall over any moment. I went over to grab him, calm him down, something.

"Shh shh, it's all right, Kirk," I muttered in his ear, awkwardly patting his back. I never thought I'd need to, but it really fucking sucks I can't comfort him any better than this. It was like this sour feeling in my chest that nestled in right next to my heart, whispering how awful I was at this and how he's probably mad at me for getting him into this situation.

Before I could ask him if he wanted to punt me out of a window, though, I heard some shuffling and talking coming from downstairs. James and Cliff were headed up here. As much as I wanted to hide for a week until my fuckin' "lesson" was up, I couldn't exactly drag Kirk into the hall closet in his current state, so I stood my ground.

"Hey, ladies, we do appreciate the service you've done our ugly ass friends, but could you keep the cat fight down until you've left the house?"

Ah, James, the man still didn't know how to talk to women after all this time. He was either too shy to form a sentence, or he put on this macho bravado that turned him into a drink asshole. Either way, this lady was not pleased.

By now I guess the guys had reached the landing Kirk and I were at and saw me hugging him, because Cliff chimed in, "Aww, they've made up! Good! Now, can I ask what exactly you two were telling about so loudly that it woke me and my boy James up? Did Lars do something?"

My back straightened at that, and I turned my head to him indignantly. "I did fucking not!" I retorted, even though apparently this whole situation was my fault. No need for them to know that, though.

"Holy shit, Lars!?!" James screamed.

I sighed. "Hi, Jamie."

----------

Chapter 2

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themysteryofwriting · 5 years

Text

The Creativity Split

When we talked to Thomas about his creativity becoming two parts, it was probably easy to believe that it happened overnight. But it was clear to pretty much all of the other sides, light, dark, or otherwise, that it was actually a more elongated process. Patton would never admit it, but Creativity splitting into Roman and Remus was partially his fault.

While no one is sure when exactly it started, it was clearly during some time in Thomas’s late toddler to early kid phase. Because by the time Thomas was a preteen, Romulus was no more. Romulus being Creativity, at least before he split.

The change in Romulus started small. And we were 90 percent sure that it was Patton’s comments that started the split. I wasn’t even there at the beginning but I did get some information from Logan later, as I knew he had been there for the whole thing. Romulus used to share all his ideas with anyone who would listen. Which was actually more than just Patton and Logan as the mind palace hadn’t yet split into the light and dark sides yet, which also meant that the neutral sides also just hung around, seeing no reason to not split up. Maybe that was Romulus’s first mistake. Not that there was anything wrong with him sharing his ideas, but maybe he shouldn’t have shared the darker ones with Patton. That’s where Logan believes the change in Romulus started.

Logan first noticed it one day when Romulus, happy and grinning as usual, decided to show it on a day where his idea wasn’t exactly a happy one. His drawing was more dark and disturbing than his recent drawings,most of which had been happy and cheerful. Logan said that Thomas had a nightmare the night before, so he assumed that’s where Romulus’ idea had come from. Romulus started doing his normal thing and showing the picture to everyone. And everyone reacted fine, maybe a little creeped out by it, until he showed it to Patton. Patton originally was happy to see the picture, until he saw what it actually was. The change on Patton’s face was immediate.

“Romulus,” Patton said, his voice changing to the parent trying to teach his kid a lesson, “Why did you draw this?”

“It was an idea,” Romulus said so cheerfully, cheerfully enough that Logan was sure he had no idea what was coming.

“Romulus, this is something only a bad person would draw, you’re not a bad person are you?”

That statement caused every single person in the common area to shoot their head up. Logan himself, knew that wasn’t true. While at the time, he was Curiosity and not Logic, he still inherently knew that to be false. Everyone had a different reaction to what Patton said, but one thing stayed constant. No one could believe that Patton had said that to Romulus, as he was currently the youngest side, and therefore the most impressionable. It was an unwritten rule that you were to let the younger sides figure out themselves where they belonged. And yet it seemed Patton was trying to convince Romulus otherwise.

“No,” Romulus muttered, not understanding why Patton was so upset with him. As far as Logan could determine, Romulus hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Then you probably shouldn’t create things like this, right,” Patton asked Romulus.

“I guess not,” he muttered so most of them could barely hear.

Patton smiled at Romulus and patted his head. “Good, after all, handsome princes like you don’t create things like this.” Romulus, dejected from what Patton had just told him ran back to his room. From what Logan said, most of the other sides started yelling at Patton. And from it sounded like, this happened repeatedly.

It eventually got to the point where when I appeared four years later, Deceit took me in so Patton couldn’t try to do the same to me. By that point I showed up, Romulus had gotten more conservative when it came to sharing his ideas, and he rarely, if ever, showed the bad ones. He never even showed the bad ones to Patton anymore yet somehow Patton still found out about them. It was never good when Patton found out. He would normally pull Romulus to the side and have a stern talking to him.

Logan told me that he believes that Patton’s manipulating someone who was clearly supposed to be a neutral side into becoming a ‘light’ side is what caused it. And that wasn’t the worst of what happened.

The worst happened later. When the ‘dark side’ of Romulus decided that enough was enough. No one, besides probably Romulus was sure how it had started. I tried asking Roman about and he told me he didn’t remember enough of that time to answer. He told me something like, “The time before we split was hazy. I know I remembered it then but now I only remember bits and pieces.” I’m not sure if he was telling the truth, didn’t want to talk about it, or if Romulus had blocked it out. None of us are really sure which it is.

While between the time I showed up and the obvious changes nothing seemed to be happening with Romulus, both Logan and I believed that wasn’t the case. Thinking about how Remus represents intrusive thoughts, it’s almost improbable that Romulus wasn’t hearing some sort of voice from his ‘dark side’ after Patton finally convinced him to stop drawing things that Patton saw as dark and disturbing. This is almost confirmed by how quiet Romulus would suddenly become sometimes during a conversation. It definitely drew the attention of a lot of the others of Romulus was normally a happy and cheerful side. But after he stopped catering to his ‘dark side’ he became quieter.

The thing that made everyone take notice, even Patton, who we were all sure was trying to deny what he had done to Romulus, was when he wasn’t just Romulus again. If was still even Romulus. At that point, he could have already split and we wouldn’t have known. I can’t be for certain, but I’m pretty sure I was the first one to find out. Like I said, I can't be 100 percent certain but no one else had talked about it yet so it’s what I believe happened.

All I had been trying to do was get a snack from the kitchen. As I walked I saw Romulus but he seemed ...different. “Het, you doing okay,” I asked quietly as a walked up. For some reason I could feel my anxiety ramping up. I wasn’t completely sure why until he turned around and shot me a grin that was nothing like Romulus. I took a step back, realizing why I felt so anxious as I walked in. That may have been Romulus’ body but it wasn’t Romulus.

Whoever it was grinned at me. “Fear, it’s good to see you. Do you think you can help me set up this prank for Logan.”

I hesitated before asking my own question. “Who exactly are you? You’re not Romulus, that much is clear.”

The side in front of me stuck at his tongue and blew a raspberry at me. “Come on Fear, I thought you would be more fun than that.” He paused for a second before he grinned. “I know, I’ll go ask Deceit, he’ll probably help me.” Romulus, no that wasn’t Romulus. Whoever he was ran off, probably to find Deceit, and I just stood there in shock.

It didn’t take long for the other sides to realize what was going on and start talking about it. From what he sounded like, what Ro, I mean whoever he was at the time, acted like depended on who he was talking to. If he talked to Patton or Logan, he acted like the Romulus that everyone knew and loved. If he talked to any of the dark sides, including me, he acted like the guy I ran into the kitchen. And for the neutral sides, who he acted like depended where they currently leaned towards.

For Deceit and the others this was the last straw. They started separating from the others, specifically Patton. Though it was clear Patton was starting to feel guilty. The only reason we weren’t leaving the others entirely. It’s almost like Deceit knew what was about to happen.

It finally happened about two months after I noticed Romulus acting strange. We were all in the main living room and Romulus started muttering to himself. I glanced up from what I was looking at, trying to figure out if both versions of him had gone crazy or if it was just the crazier one arguing with himself like I had walked upon him doing before. I almost jumped back when I saw what was really happening.

It was almost exactly like an unfusing from Steven Universe. One second Romulus was arguing with himself, and the next there was this bright flash and there were two different Creativities.

One looked exactly like a Prince with a white suit and a red sash. He looked really neat, at least compared to the other one. Not to mention he looked like the Prince from every single fairy tale ever. It gave me a weird urge to punch him, which didn’t really go away until after I was accepted into the group.

The other Creativity was probably the one I had been talking to. He looked a lot dirtier than the other one. He wore an outfit that was similar to the one the other Creativity was wearing, except it was green and black instead of red and white. Not to mention it almost looked like he had thrown it into a trash compactor. Before I could even react, Deceit stood up and grabbed the trashier Creativity.

“Fear, we’re leaving,” he said, and I went to follow him. As I left, I noticed the look of horror on Patton’s face, as it seemed he was just realizing exactly what he had done by manipulating Romulus. I almost paused before Deceit yelled again and I followed him.

Looking back on what happened, I realized there were multiple opportunities where even I could have stepped in to stop Patton. This is not saying Patton is completely innocent, but he isn’t completely at fault either. There were multiple times we could have stopped him. No one knows what it would have been like if we had Romulus instead of Roman or Remus but we know it would’ve been different.

~Virgil

#virgil sanders #unsympathetic patton #deceit sanders #romulus sanders #creativity split #remus sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides one shots #sander sides

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twoidiotwriters1 · 5 years

Text

Starcrossed Losers II (Josh Wheeler xReader)

A/N: Loving this thing already, seriously hoping to keep the constant of posting two chapters every week lmao

Words: 2,766

Warnings: Swearing ig

Previous Chapter // Next chapter

Of course. Of course, it was this guy.

Eli fucking Cardashyan, or as I liked to call him, the goblin under the bridge that always copied my answers on every test since we were thirteen. Just like Josh, Angelica and Wesley, I knew Eli from a while back. He wasn’t exactly popular but everyone knew him as the school’s “wanna-be”, I thought he would be dead by now, I’m glad to see I was wrong.

But I can’t believe he’s got the mall for himself. Even worse, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. The mall was neutral territory, everyone could go and hang out with their friends, so the most logical thing is to say everyone had the same right over it. And is Eli Cardashyan the one who gets to have it all for himself? I call bullshit. This kind of situation is what leads me to believe that there is really no god.

“This is who we’ve been scared of?” Angelica complains, “A light breeze could kick his ass!”

“I thought it was gonna be Hoyles,” Wesley adds in a mix of disbelief and disappointment, “this is... Who is this again?”

“It’s Eli,” sighs Josh, he walks towards the bike and examines it, then lets out a childish laugh, “it’s fine, He’s a knock-off Baron Triumph”

And yes, obviously he was. Eli could be an idiot sometimes but he wasn’t a murderer. He went off on his (honestly weird as hell) speech until Josh cut him off.

“Who else is with you? Where is Sam Dean?” Eli scoffs.

“Do I look like her publicist?”

“Sam’s not here?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just me and my girlf, Mavis” He answers with a smirk.

Josh and I share a look, I shrug and mouth a ‘sorry’, Josh shakes his head, telling me not to worry about it.

“You have the entire mall? You?” asks Angelica.

“Right?! How did that even happen?” I ask in frustration. Wesley mumbles a ‘chill, girl’ that I decide to ignore.

Eli went on and on, and to be honest I think I only understood like fifty percent of what he was saying, part because I wasn’t listening, and part ‘cause the boy has a wild vocabulary. Josh and I looked at each other in annoyance and I knew he was feeling as done as me with the conversation. When I was starting to think this day couldn’t get any crazier, the real Baron Triumph made his entrance.

We all hurl up at the doors and Eli pulls out a set of keys from his pocket, desperately trying to open them.

“Faster, he’s almost here!” says Josh.

“Get your own mall, this one’s mine” Eli grumbles.

“Are you twelve?” I reply, “We’re on the same side here!”

“We’re finna get eaten out here...”

“Not helping, Wesley.”

“Got it!” Says Eli. The other boys pull him aside and practically rip the chains from the handles, “Hey!”

Josh pushes me inside hurriedly before entering himself. The others soon following after. I hear the door slamming shut and I look over my shoulder to see Eli running behind us; we’re all safe.

We reach one of the halls and Josh stops in awe, it takes me an extra second to stop completely cause I’m still wearing my skates, but when I do I’m just as amazed as him. Behind me, I hear Angelica talk.

“There’s power and air conditioning...”

“Everything is so... clean”

“Still smells like cinnabon”

“Am I still alive?” I look over at Josh, “You sure I didn’t die when you hit me this afternoon?”

“I didn’t hit you that hard,” He replies, still looking around like it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

“Solar panels on the roof!” Eli sings, “This is an island of paradise in an ocean of poop.”

“What a fancy allegory,” I snicker.

I’ll allow myself to remember, I don’t do it as often as I’d like...

-Flashback time-

What? You thought I wasn’t going to do this? C’mon, I’m a lonely child. All I have are my memories of the good ol’ times, so you’ll be forced to relive them with me. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. (I do, but I don’t wanna brag about it).

“We should go to my place, there’s nothing to do here...”

“Maya, for the last time,” I look at the girl standing next to me, “we told Alex we would meet here.”

“I know,” She whines, “but Hoyles is here and that guy gives me the creeps. I heard he tried to have sex with Ashley Miller while she was completely wasted”

“Sounds like Hoyles,” I nod in agreement, “but we can’t scatter everytime we run into them. We’re not little kids anymore, he can’t hurt us”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” She points to the opposite corner, Hoyles and his gang are terrorizing a freshman and the people around does nothing but move away.

“Can you belive that?” I start to walk towards them but Maya grabs my arm tightly, “What?”

“Don’t be stupid,” She rolls her eyes, “don’t even try to stop them, seriously, they won’t stop and you’ll get harassed.”

“It’s a freshman!” I insist, “Hoyles is like three times his size! You can’t expect me to do nothing”

“Listen,” my friend raises an eyebrow, “Y/N, those guys are crazy, please...”

I look back at the boys and realize they’re no longer there, I turn to her in defeat.

“I just really hate bullies, okay?”

“Let’s face it, we don’t have the ability to stop them all.”

“To stop what?”

I quickly turn around and see the person I’ve been waiting for: Alex, my best friend since childhood. My mood switches instantly and I shrugg it off, already starting to forget.

“Just the usual dumbassery,” I reply with a chuckle.

“Hey loser,” Maya adds, “you’re late.”

“Yeah, I know” Alex nods awkwardly, “lost track of time again, sorry.”

“What was it this time?” I ask, “youtube or the comic?”

“Youtube,” He smirks, “vine is honestly a national treasure.”

“Sure,” I snort, “too bad is dead now.”

“Those who are great live the shortest lives,” He replies with his ‘wise old man’ voice.

“So,” Maya hops between us and puts her arms around our shoulders, “you want to look around?”

“I wanna go see the skates,” Alex adds, basically vibrating, “they have a new model and I wanna try them on.”

“The skates place, then,” My friend nods and pulls us with her.

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

A loud bang brings me back to the present and I remember why were we hiding here in the first place.

“This way, quick!” Eli tells us before he starts running. I move fast since I’m the only one with wheels on her feet. And soon most of them are behind me. Eli presses a button on the keychain he has, and the metal curtain lifts up enough for us to get in. “Go under, we’ll be safe in here...”

As soon as Josh, Angelica and I get in, the curtain comes back down.

“What the hell?” asks Josh.

“I’m not sharing my kingdom with you, sheep. No one busts into Eli’s mall. And don’t even try to escape.”

“We weren’t trying to escape, you brainless leprechaun!” This is unbelievable, I swear, I just want out of this day, “We’re running away from the monster that's on your side! You won’t make it on your own against Triumph, he’ll find a way to get in and eat you”

“Every door is locked or booby-trapped.” A laugh distracts us from the discussion and I see Wesley next to Eli... on the other side.

“Booby,” He chuckles. He’s been smoking, so you can’t expect him to behave.

Eli groans. Josh steps closer and smirks.

“Wesley Fists lead the state in sacks last season. Take him out, Samurai.”

“To fight someone so obviously inferior would be dishonorable.” He raises a brow. Eli shows us both of his middle fingers.

“Great,” I throw my backpack on the floor and walk away from the curtain, “this is only getting better and better...”

“One punch, Wesley, come on,” Josh insists, “one punch.”

I let out a sharp breath and sit on the bench a few feet away from them to take off my skates. As useful as they are, I’m starting to feel sore and they’re not the most comfortable thing to wear after a few hours of running. While I’m doing so, another memory comes to mind and I’m unable to stop it.

Where was I? Oh, right...

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

“I think these are more you’re style,” I grab the bright, lime-green pair from the right shelf and hand them to Alex, he laughs and examines them for a moment like he’s actually considering the idea.

“I mean, they wouldn’t match any of my outfits but they’d totally be catching everyone’s eye.”

“Isn’t that the point, though?”

“Obviously,” He shakes his head pretending to be offended by the question, “though I think I’ll have to pass this time. I already made my choice.”

He shows me a pair of white-colored ones.

“Dude, are you serious?” I grab the skates and raise them to his eye level, “These are the most boring pair of skates ever”

“Now they are,” Alex moves my hand slightly so he can see my face, “but I bet that you can turn them into a masterpiece”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Please, Y/N don’t play dumb, you know I love your drawings”

I blush at his reply. Sure, I like drawing but I’m no Van Gogh at it. The best thing I ever drew was probably a worm.

“You’re telling me you’d spend your money on the newest model of skates just to ruin them with your best friend’s nonexistent skills?”

“To me, their value would go up by a thousand if they had your drawings in them.”

“Jesus, get a room!” Maya exclaims beside us, she’s sitting on a small chair, trying random pairs of skates out of pure boredom.

“Shut up!” We both respond quickly.

He looks at me and I’m pretty sure he’s blushin but I can’t really look at his face cause I’m too embarrassed to do so.

Oh, right. I forgot to mention that I had a crush on my best friend, didn’t I? No, I wasn’t avoiding this topic. I thought it wasn’t important anymore. And it isn’t! I promise it isn’t. Alex is gone, and with him so are my feelings.

Yes, you can laugh all you want cause I was one of those basic idiots who fell in love with their best friend just cause he treats me like any decent human being should. Can you blame me, though? Compared to Hoyles and his team of dickheads, Alex was a fucking teddy bear.

And the worst part? I’m pretty sure he liked me back.

We never made a move.

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

A loud scream makes me drop my broken skates and I run back to were Angelica and Josh are.

“What the fuck...” I whisper, clinging to the curtain.

“What the fuck is here with us?” Angelica is the first to ask what Josh and I were wondering as well.

“Ooh, a ghoulie witch,” Eli steps closer, lowering his voice, “once upon a time, she was a normal girl who liked hanging out at the mall. But now she’s got mad powers, and she will fuck your shit up. She is unkillable and she is hangry.”

“There is no such thing as witches.”

“Well, a few months ago there weren’t mutant squirrels or ghoulies either.” Adds Angelica.

“That’s right. And when the witch eats your intestines like spaghetti, you’ll think: I never should’ve dissed king Eli...” He walks backwards and leaves us here with fuck knows what.

“I swear every time he opens his mouth I feel like I’m having a stroke,” Now that I don’t have my skates on, I realize Josh’s taller than me. I barely reach the tip of his nose.

“Don’t worry, I’ll convince him to let you out.” Wesley says, “I’mma go full Gandhi on his ass. Hunger strike.”

“Easy there, we don’t want to traumatize him for life” I reply dryly.

Angelica and Josh step back from the curtain and I follow them. We sit on the bench and I look at my skates, cursing under my breath. Josh notices and gently nudges my side with his arm.

“Sorry about that. We can find a new pair somewhere around here if you want.”

“I hope so,” I kick them and they slide miserably on the floor, the wheels almost fully worn out, “I really liked them.”

“You used to skate a lot? Before the nuke,” He asks in curiosity.

“Not at all. I didn’t even know how to use them,” I laugh lightly, “my best friend used to, though. He promised he would teach me one day but... things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is he..?” He leaves the question open but I understand perfectly what he’s trying to say.

“Fuck, no,” I feel a shiver going down my spine just by thinking about it, “we wanted different things, that’s all. He had a plan and I had another. Alex wanted to leave town and travel around the country now that we’re free to do whatever we please. I just wanted to find my sister.”

“And where is she?”

“She turned into a ghoulie, so I... I took care of it.”

“Shit,” He whispers, passing a hand through his hair and looking a little pale, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Again, I’m not gonna talk about this stuff with someone I just met.

“Did I ever meet your friend?” Maybe Josh can tell I don’t want to keep going with the hard topics, and I appreciate his effort to respect that.

“Dunno,” I shrug, softly massaging my feet, “He’s Alex Murphy. Bit taller than me, cool guy...”

“Oh, him,” He nods, then adds, “I have no clue of who that is.”

I laugh louder this time, giving him a gentle push.

“Dumbass,” I shake my head, “anyway, after Alex and I went our separate ways I decided to learn on my own and I think I did pretty well, they’re quieter than cars and definitely easier to control than skateboards.”

“Oh, so you’re still not over that?” He raises a brow, a smirk growing on his face.

“Well, I’m not the one running over innocent people on the street.”

“It was an accident! I wasn’t watching where I was going. I was too busy trying not to get killed by the jocks”

“You sure? Cause so far all I’ve seen you do is nothing but the opposite. If I may give my humble opinion, it's not something very smart considering you’re alone.”

“I was doing well until today,” He sighs.

“I believe you, Wheeler,” I eye him up, “you're not like I'd pictured.”

“Really?” He smiles, “What did you imagine?”

“Kinda like those boys who pretend to be all grown up,” I reply, scrunching up my nose, “the ones that can’t be caught having fun or they’d lose their cool, like some sort of bitter old man in the body of a seventeen-year-old boy...”

“Okay, okay! I get it,” Josh laughs, raising his hands in defeat, “jeez, thanks for the compliments”

“I am complimenting you!” I exclaim, “I’m saying I was wrong and you’re not what I thought you were”

“You did think I was, though”

“Well, at least I had an opinion on you,” I scoff, “I’m sure you didn’t even think of that after we did our school project, I probably just stopped existing in your world or something...”

“Of course not,” It was his time to act offended, “every time I saw you on the hall after our project I made sure to wave at you, remember?”

“How kind of you”

“What can I say? I’m a real-life gentleman.”

I laugh again and pull my shoes out of my bag to put them on.

“Is that the reason why Sam Dean fell head over heels for you?”

The effect was immediate. Josh’s shoulders tense and his smile disappears, he clears his throat and looks anywhere but me.

“Uhm, I don’t really know if she...”

“It’s alright,” I add promptly, “sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad”

“I’m not sad,” He shakes his head, “it’s just that I keep thinking... maybe things could’ve been different if I had said something sooner, you know?”

Trust me, Josh. I know.

Taglist.

@letsbloodmagic

#twoidiots writing #josh wheeler #josh wheeler xreader #wesley fists #eli cardashyan #angelica green #daybreak #netflix #Starcrossed fic #daybreak fanfic

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tslasvegas · 3 years

Text

Episode 12: “I’ve been awakened.” - Xavier

Well that vote went exactly how I had hoped it would... and then the super idol came out! I'm glad that it's out of the game now once and for all, but I guarantee that Liv is going to find something else along the way. It's so hard for me to summarize everything that I'm doing around here because I feel like I'm doing a lot. Maybe that's going to come bite me in the ass this coming vote but idk, I'm not mad about it. I definitely limited myself a lot by really not going for the money shot and convincing Jeff to use his vote steal on Joey to get Joey the hell out of here, but maybe in some weird way it works. Because now I have John's 8 chips and I'm going to need as many as I can get to somehow beat Livingston. I definitely think that snubbing this vote is going to be my biggest detriment only bc it provides the opportunity for Livingston to ascend higher as a threat, but also avoid getting voted out at our next convenience. I still really want Kailyn to go, but I think the goal for everyone else is to get rid of Livingston or myself (maybe Joey) at the next tribal council. Ugh. Heh... I never would've thought that I could pull off that kind of a move and have it not fully work out in my favor. It was a cool feeling regardless and I'm not crushed if it means I played myself out of the game. I give myself credit where it's due, I'm going to continue fighting as always and hopefully I come out on top :~)

Last Luxor standing

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Whelp, there goes the Super Idol. Jaiden is a snakey little snake snake. Pat and Jeff are naïve as all hell. I'm not 100% sure I believe Jaiden now, but apparently Joey's plan was to cut me at like final 6 or something. And people are so convinced that Livingston and I are a duo. I mean we are, but like maybe if anyone would ACTUALLY FUCKING TALK TO ME AND TRY TO WORK WITH ME, we wouldn't be??? Like don't whine and bitch that Livingston and I are a duo who are going to stick together and not turn against each other if you can't even be bothered to respond to a single fucking message of mine. I have no issues voting out whoever is necessary for me to get farther in the game. But when only a limited number of people express in interest in going farther with me? You better fucking bet I'm working with those people. Anyways, can't wait to vote out Jaiden, Kailyn and Xavier. xoxo Gossip Girl

Waiting on Immunity Results, but whatever happens the 5 of us need to vote together, and be smart about it! We know that liv, Keegan and Joey will vote together. Probably for me next. So Jeff Pat need to stick with us. We need to split the votes 3-2, and use a vote steal, cancel or extra to get it to 3-3 just in case of idols. We need to be smart about this. Going all out and proposing this once results are in. I am going to the Jury next anyway, go out guns blazing.

...five seconds later

OMG I WON IMMUNITY! Finally something good! I figured most people gave their correct numbers, and if not, just chose a number close to theirs. OR they didn't coordinate so well, so some gave a higher number and others gave a lower one, so it cancelled out. Also helps that I knew Liv and Pat's numbers with the advantage. Pat gave mine accidentally so I knew his was in the 40s as well. Phew. Now to figure out whether to use the Steal a Vote now or not.

I came so close to winning immunity but it was rudely snatched away from me by Xavier. On the plus side, Livingston found the hidden immunity idol on the idol board! Heck yeah! As long as there isn’t a full blindside we should be good now!

(originally written 11/23, night after super idol) Anyways what rly bugs me is that Jeff is actually mad at me now for the fact that he wasted his vote on Joey and I tried to get rid of Livingston instead... and I think I put myself into a spot where I need to apologize to him and make him feel good about me again. Tbh no I don’t. Jeff said to me that he’s got to play his own game first and mine second. So why am I playing some other people’s games first? Because it benefits me to play everyone’s hand for them, yes, but also I’ve been caught trying to run the entire table a little too early. So maybe now it’s time for me to do something a little different - play my game first. It’s now fully Jeff’s fault that Joey didn’t leave. I told Jeff precisely what he needed to do to ensure Joey went home. He needed to play the vote steal and send Joey on packing... and he didn’t. So now when Pat and I finally talk tomorrow and he tells me what’s up, I’m not gonna hold back. I’m going to throw Jeff under that bus so fucking hard his head will spin. Pat doesn’t know about the vote steal and I think I’ll hold that piece of information over Jeff’s head a little bit longer - I know something no one else knows about you, keep me safe or it’s coming out and everyone’s going to come after you. So tomorrow I will blame Jeff to Pat. Sure I was the person who made the move, but it’s my game and I’m playing it now. If Pat doesn’t like my apology, then kiss my ass and take eighth place. Bye!

...five seconds later

I'm pessimistic as FUCK so I'm fully expecting to go home tonight and I'm writing this confessional against better judgment because I need to rly focus on letting my mental state get back to normal rather than Survivor mode before I get voted out lmfao. Anyways, tonight is FINALLY the night where I'm making my last move against Joey, one way or another. This is the decision that will either determine oops sorry as I was writing that, I just realized something else... this is ME making yet another move that makes Jeff think I'm controlling the whole entire game I love that for me hehe. Should I convince the entire tribe to vote out Jeff instead??? Let's go fully with the chaos mode. DRAW ROCKS BITCHES!!!! Jk Jk Back to my original point - this is the vote that determines whether I was worth being brought back for this game or not. I'm not trying to be this like crazy strategist who has all these cracked plans to take out Joey but that's where we're at rn. One side of me like, trusts Jeff but the other side of me doesn't. So I told Jeff about Joey's legacy advantage and now it's like, getting Jeff to want to turn on Joey. Even though Joey told me he wanted to get rid of Jeff it seems like Jeff is not as stressed about it. I'm pretty sure Jeff turned votes against me instead, it is what it is. It's the game. However, Jeff would be really stupid to not vote out Joey now while he has the chance... it's probably going to come down to Jeff winning this whole entire thing if he makes the correct move tonight because I'm certainly not going to turn my back on him if he follows through. But, crazy things have happened tonight. And it's about to get a whole lot crazier. :) Although I'm like, CERTAIN I'm going home tonight or at least getting votes. OK IM TRYING SO HARD TO WRITE THIS CONFESSIONAL BUT SO MUCH IS HAPPENING AHHHH IM STRESSING OUT BUT I KNOW THERES A GOOD PLAN OUT THERE FOR ME TO MAKE AND HOPEFULLY IM NOT SCREWING MYSELF OVER

...five seconds later

OKAY I think I'm gonna be ok but I'm taking a HUGE risk rn!!! Basically putting my vote onto Liv with Joey and hoping Joey 1) doesnt have an idol and 2) gets the rest of the votes. But my logic for voting Liv is simple. If Joey actually has an idol he's been hiding, he plays it and reveals I voted for him again if I don't do it. It also prevents me/Kailyn from going home 2-1-0 since Keegan and Liv seem to be locked in on one of us (likely me). If somehow Jeff/Pat are lying and are part of split, it'll go 2-2-2-2 which is not only insane but it also gives me a PERFECT platform to light people up, namely Jeff and his vote steal advantage. But we'll see! I'm predicting to go home tonight :) But at least I made a move when I could. Good luck to me <3

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honeypiehotchner · 5 years

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Covered Memories -- part 1

TW for mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, paranoia(?), sadness. Stay safe lovelies.

Here is the Sherlock I promised. It has a couple parts, so I’m going to let this one settle before I give you the next (I’m also editing it as I reread it haha). This was inspired by Billie Eilish’s song “listen before i go” but you don’t need to listen to it while reading or anything. Enjoy! Love you guys xx.

I went to sleep watching Sherlock and woke up on a bus in London.

It sounds crazier than it actually is, I promise.

Just kidding, it’s absolutely insane. I’m on a fucking bus in London and I’m from Ohio. I’m from the United States of fucking America, and I somehow woke up on a bus in England.

I didn’t realize where I was at first, to be completely honest. I didn’t recognize it. The first dead giveaway was that the bus was driving on the wrong side of the road – well, the correct side here, but the wrong side to me completely.

I’m still in my pajamas, and I’m a little more than thankful that last night I fell asleep in a hoodie and leggings. At least I’m not half naked on a bus in downtown London.

Things could be a lot worse than they are, that’s for sure.

But the situation I’m in also isn’t exactly okay. I don’t have my purse, my phone, or any damn shoes on my feet. I don’t even have my damn glasses, so walking around is going to be a little more than challenging, which is partly why I’ve stayed on this bus for longer than I should.

Eventually, though, I figure I’ve been on here for long enough, so I decide to step down and onto the sidewalk.

Okay, bad idea. Foreign city, foreign person, and I have no earthly idea where I’m at or where I should go.

One piece at a time. Okay, I have no money, so a cab ride is out of the park. And so is…basically everything else.

Okay.

When one wakes up in London, what does one do – especially if one has never been to London before?

I have no earthly idea.

The only knowledge I have of London is from the show I fell asleep watching – Sherlock – and even then, it’s a TV show. It’s fiction.

My eyes widen at the idea that just came into my head.

I know, logically, that Sherlock Holmes does not exist. He’s a fictional character, but in knowing that, I know that the show itself is pretty popular. I know a lot about said show. And I know that Baker Street is actually a real place. There’s a museum there now, or something.

Well, if I’m going to be stuck here, I might as well take advantage. I’ve always wanted to come to the museum, and since I’m here basically for free, I’m going to go see it.

Strange that I’m not freaking out right now, I know. I don’t know why I’m not freaking out either. I don’t think it has sunk in just yet. It always takes me a good week to really process things, actually, but who knows what that’s about.

Okay, Baker Street. I need to find my way to Baker Street.

Because I have no other option, I walk up to the least scary looking woman on the sidewalk with me, tapping her shoulder. Thankfully, she looks to be around my age, so she doesn’t seem too alarmed by me tapping her.

“Hi, you wouldn’t happen to know where the Sherlock Holmes museum is, would you?”

She smiles, sort of knowingly and nods. “You’re lookin’ for Sherlock Holmes?”

“Yes…” I nod slowly, not sure if she’s messing with me and is about to tell me to get lost, but she doesn’t.

“Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

If she wasn’t also a female and young, then I would not have followed her, but she looks like she means well, and knows where she’s going, which is evident when I vaguely see the awning to the museum in the distance.

“So, what’s up with you?”

I blink, letting out a weak laugh. “What?”

“Why do you need to see Sherlock Holmes?” She clarifies. “What’s your case?”

Okay, now I’m not sure if she’s the one who knows Sherlock Holmes doesn’t exist. I don’t even know how to respond to her.

“Oh, I’m not supposed to be here right now,” I shrug. “Just wondering if maybe he could…help me out.”

“Sounds interesting,” she nods seriously. “Well, it’s just up there. I’ve gotta get to work. Nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, you too…” I furrow my eyebrows, watching her cross the street.

I shake my head, rubbing my face with my hands. This no longer feels as concerning as it feels strange. Especially after that interaction.

I continue walking, continue feeling the concrete underneath my bare feet as I walk. I come up on the awning of the museum only to find it’s…it’s not the museum. It’s Speedy’s Café.

But Speedy’s isn’t here. Speedy’s isn’t supposed to be on this street – They don’t actually film the show at the exact 221B Baker Street. They film it on North Gower Street, everyone knows that.

I look up at the brick building, and sure enough, she led me to Baker Street, where the museum should be, but it’s Speedy’s.

I shake my head again, walking past the building to find someone else. I cast a quick glance at the door next to it, doing a doubletake when I see the golden 221B on the outside.

“This day is just getting weirder and weirder,” I sigh.

I rub at my eyes, stepping closer to see if it’s my eyes just playing a trick on me, but it’s not. It really does say 221B on the outside. Complete with the knocker turned to the side like Sherlock keeps it.

Okay, stop it. Sherlock Holmes is fictional. He keeps it that way in his fictional world. This is the real world, and yes, it’s short circuiting right now, it’s still reality.

It’s short circuiting? Really? I just woke up on a bus halfway across the globe after going to sleep in my apartment, and the best answer my brain can come up with is that the world is short circuiting?

Just for that, I’m going to ring the doorbell. Just once. If nothing happens, then I’ll go…find the police station, I don’t know.

Without giving it a single second thought, I step up, and briefly press the doorbell.

Nothing happens. Literally, nothing. Which gives me the impression that this is the flat they film in, and that it’s just made to look like it really is Baker Street, even though everyone knows it’s just North Gower.

I scoff to myself, feeling silly for even entertaining the idea, turning around to walk the other way. It’s when I turn my back that I hear the sound of the door opening, followed by an all too familiar voice.

“Ma’am, wait!”

I freeze. Absolutely not. There’s no absolute way that could be him.

I take a deep breath, slowly turning myself back around, coming face to face with the man I’ve only ever seen on my laptop or phone screen.

John Watson.

No…it’s not. It’s Martin Freeman, come on, John Watson doesn’t actually exist. He’s a fictional character.

“Would you like to come in?” He asks, stepping back and gesturing inside.

My legs move before I tell them to, walking me inside the flat. I wait until John closes the door, before I turn back around to look at him.

I probably look more than startled because he returns the expression, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Are you alright?”

“…no.”

“Alright, well, come upstairs. I’ll get Mrs. Hudson to make you a cuppa.”

I let him guide me up the stairs, checking on me every few steps to make sure I haven’t fainted, I’m sure. I’m not feeling faint, but I know I must look white as a sheet.

This is just wrong. And not real. I’m dreaming. Surely, this is just a dream.

“Mrs. Hudson, would you make…”

He looks to me for my name, so I answer him. “Liz.”

“Liz here a cuppa, please?”

Mrs. Hudson – yes, the Mrs. Hudson I’ve seen in the show, Una Stubbs – nods, frowning. “Of course, dear. Are you alright? You look a little spooked.”

“Yeah…I’m…I’m spooked,” I let out a breathy chuckle.

I glance around the apartment – flat, they’re flats here – with wide eyes. Everything is the same. The yellow smiley face ridden with bullet holes is on the wall above the couch. The messy coffee table that Sherlock always steps over is in front of the couch. The wall itself has various pictures and things pinned up, but I can’t see them clearly enough to know if it’s anything I’d recognize.

“Here you go, dear,” Mrs. Hudson hands me a cup of steaming tea. “Drink that and it should make you feel better.”

“Thanks, Mrs. H.”

John freezes, staring at me with wide eyes. “Mrs. H?”

“I’m sorry, force of habit,” I grimace. I’m ruining this already.

“Habit? Do you know Mrs. Hudson?”

“No, I—” I sigh. “It’s not a long story, but it’s really complicated, and I’m still trying to process everything right now and— Oh my God.”

The grip on my tea loosens completely, the cup falling from my hands and shattering at my feet. Standing before me is the man I’ve watched on a screen for years. Sherlock Holmes.

He finishes buttoning his blazer, raising an eyebrow. “Client?”

John answers, whilst cleaning up the broken shards of the teacup. “Yeah, I think. She said it’s complicated.” He stands, tossing them into the trashcan that Mrs. Hudson brought over before taking the towel from her to soak up the tea.

“It always is,” Sherlock dismisses John’s answer, holding his hand out to you. “Sherlock Holmes.”

“I know,” I blurt, immediately smacking myself in the forehead. I take his hand, giving it a firm shake. “I mean, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Liz. Liz Singleton.”

“Singleton,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes. “I know that name.”

“You do?”

“Yes…I’m not sure from where. Well, it’ll come to me soon enough.” He walks around me, pulling the chair out from under the table and sitting it in the middle of the floor. “Have a seat, Miss Singleton and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“I want to stand, actually,” I say, the past moments’ events coming back to me. “I’m sorry about the cup, Mrs. H. I’m having delayed reactions to things.”

“It’s alright, dear, I’ve got plenty others. Sherlock has a bad habit of breaking them.”

I smile softly, turning back to Sherlock, only to find him staring me down. Deducing me, most likely, so I brace myself for the onslaught of accusations and truths I’m not aware of.

“Why do you speak to Mrs. Hudson with such familiarity?”

I pause, nodding slowly. “That’s part of my story.”

Sherlock sighs tiredly. “Go on, then.” He stays standing as well, continuing to look me over while John sits down in his chair.

“I’m not from here.”

“Yes, I gathered that from your alarming American accent.”

Ignoring the ‘alarming’ adjective, I continue. “I’m from Ohio. The state in the U.S. Thing is, I went to sleep there last night. But I woke up about an hour ago on a bus in downtown London.” My heart is pounding in my chest, the severity of what’s happening finally settling in now that I’ve said it aloud. “Any ideas, Mr. Holmes?”

“A few,” he mutters. “Those are clearly pajamas and judging by your lack of shoes, the sleeping bit does make sense.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “What were you doing last night?”

“That’s,” I pause to chuckle. “That’s the kicker, really, because I was watching you.”

His arms fall to his sides. “I’m sorry?”

“There’s a show, on BBC, it’s called Sherlock. It’s about you and John and Mrs. Hudson,” I swallow thickly. “And Molly, and Lestrade, and Mary.”

“Mary? Who’s Mary?”

“No one,” I cover quickly, not entirely sure what I’ve done, but I know it isn’t good. It sounds ridiculous, but I must be in the world before he met Mary, so before…before the Reichenbach. “Just a random person. But my point is, it’s a TV show. I was watching it when I fell asleep last night, and I woke up on a bus here, in London. And now I’m talking to you. And you’re not supposed to exist – none of you are. You’re fictional characters. I thought when I first got here that it was a little weird, but I was coming here to see the museum. There’s supposed to be a Sherlock Holmes museum here, not this flat. This flat isn’t supposed to exist – none of it is.”

I turn in a circle, looking at everything I’ve seen over the years. I used to dream about visiting this flat – visiting the set and sitting down in John’s chair or grazing my fingers over the smiley face on the wall, but now I’m here and I don’t even want to be. Now I’m here, and this is the worst nightmare I could ever imagine.

I stop, pointing at John, my mind spinning. “You. Your name isn’t John Watson, it’s supposed to be Martin Freeman. And you,” I point at Sherlock. “Your name isn’t Sherlock Holmes, it’s supposed to be Benedict Cumberbatch.”

John laughs loudly. “What kind of a name is that?”

“You played Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit,” I tell John—Martin. He’s Martin. “And Ian McKelpie in Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. And you,” I turn back around to Benedict. “You played Khan in Star Trek. And Alan Turing in The Imitation Game. You guys are actors.” I cover my face with my hands. “This is one weird dream. I need to wake up.” I open my eyes, looking dead at Benedict. “Punch me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Punch me. Right now. Knock me out in here, so it’ll wake me up back home.”

“I’m not going to punch you, Miss Singleton.” He pauses. “Because I think I know what’s going on here.”

John looks as surprised as I am. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, John, I’m quite serious,” Sherlock tucks his hands behind him. “I’m at the height of my fame. You know that because we’ve been in the papers almost every day for the last month.”

“No idea where you’re going with this, Sherlock.”

“Oh, come on, open your eyes,” Sherlock cries. “Look at her outfit, look at her eyes. She’s an addict, clearly still high, and one of her delusions is that there’s a TV show starring the both of us. The TV show is incredibly popular, I’m assuming, which falls into the current pattern of my own popularity.” He turns to me. “I suggest you find your own way back home.”

“What—”

“Leave,” he points to the door. “I don’t have time to solve the delusions of an addict when there are more pressing issues on my mind.”

I stare at him, thinking maybe he’s kidding with me, but it’s clear on his face that he’s not. I look to John and he doesn’t say anything. Why would he? They don’t know who I am here. I’m not supposed to be here.

“Fine,” I mutter. “Sorry for bothering you.”

I turn and exit the flat, stepping slowly down the stairs. I let myself focus on how the wood feels beneath my bare feet, something I was too dazed to feel when I first walked up. Now I’m feeling entirely too many emotions all at once and the stairs don’t feel magical beneath my feet, they just hurt. Like a million splinters being stabbed into my skin all at once. It’s not a dream like I wanted it to be. This is a literal nightmare.

I stop at the bottom, letting my hand linger on the railing for just a moment longer. This is the first and last time I’ll ever be in 221B Baker Street and it couldn’t have gone any further from how I wanted.

“Wait!”

I ignore the voice – it’s John, but why does he care? – and pull open the front door, slamming it as I step out onto the sidewalk. I barely get past Speedy’s when I feel an arm on my shoulder, turning me around, making me face John Watson – stupid John Watson—

“What do you want?”

He removes his hand rather quickly, holding both up in surrender. “Hey, sorry.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “What?”

He hesitates, gathering his words. “Is what you said—Is it true? Is there a TV show about us?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not having this conversation right now.” I turn around, walking down the sidewalk, and much to my dissatisfaction, John follows beside me.

“I just… I know what an addict looks like, and you’re not one. You looked too scared when I opened the door earlier and you walked around the flat like you’ve been there before—”

“You know what?” I stop walking, turning to face him. “The show – You two idiots have gotten me through the roughest points of my life, alright? I’ve watched the show over and over until I could speak Sherlock’s dialogue in perfect timing, I’ve paused scenes to examine the background, I’ve even paused scenes to try to deduce things that Sherlock doesn’t to see what piece of the puzzle he doesn’t explain. So yes, I walked in there like I’d been there before, because I feel like I have. I used to want to live in this world more than my own, but that was a mistake because now that I am here – I don’t even want to be. I just want to go home. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go throw myself off a building and hope I wake up back in my bed. In my home. Because this doesn’t feel like home anymore. And I was so stupid to think it could’ve been.”

John’s frown deepens the more that I speak, and part of me thinks I see tears in his eyes when I finish. But it doesn’t matter what I see because this isn’t real, and it never is going to be.

“Good night, Dr. Watson,” I breathe, blinking and realizing the tears I see are actually in my own eyes. I sniffle, pressure rising in my chest as I try to hold back a sob. And I can’t cry about this in front of him, so I turn and leave, biting my sleeve to keep myself under control until I turn the corner, collapsing against the building in a fit of sobs that wrack my body.

This is the biggest mess I’ve ever been in. If this is some trick the universe is trying to play on me to tell me that I had it good back home, despite the shit I went through, then that’s fine. I get it, Universe. Lesson learned. Take me back home now, please.

#tw suicide #tw mentions of suicide #tw paranoia #tw sadness #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfic #bbc sherlock fanfiction #sherlock holmes #john watson #mrs hudson #sherlock

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natsubeatsrock · 4 years

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The Rewrite of Fairy Tail: Bonus (What If? #9)

What if Erza was born during the Mildian Academy era?

I think the fact that I've had wacky ideas in the past has been greatly understated. I mean, sure, I've had a few ideas in this series. I wouldn't possibly think of something crazy involving important characters. Right?

Weirdly enough, one of my craziest ideas involved Erza. I don't know that this is my craziest idea so far and I'm not willing to say I won't think of something crazier (I say as if I don't know some of the ones to come). However, this is one of the more wacky things I've thought of.

One of the stupider issues I had with the Erza situation was how her age ought to be counted. See, Natsu and the other Dragon Slayers were considered to be close to 400 years old because they were born around that time. However, they are technically the much younger biological ages we generally expect them to be.

But how does this play with Erza? As we know, she was conceived during the Mildian Academy Era but was born close to the time of the events of the series. So she's considered to be 18, which is why she passes through the barrier during Fantasia but Natsu and Gajeel can't.

But what if she was born during that time?

My original revised origin for Erza starts with Irene around the time that she gets the Dragon Seed. In this version, she's further on in the pregnancy than she was in canon and doesn't have the time or ability to inhibit Erza's growth. Due to the events that lead to Irene being taken over by the Dragon Seed, Erza doesn't survive to a full term. After a certain point, Erza ends up being stillborn.

Now, that's not where the story ends as Erza has to be around for the series to function properly. But here's where it gets interesting. In the original Zeref is responsible for Irene's transformation to a more human form. Similarly, after realizing her inability to taste and stuff, this Irene immediately shifts her focus towards finding Erza's remains to use her body as a replacement for her own. And once she finds them, she seeks out Zeref to recreate the experiment he used to form E.N.D.

That's right. This version of Erza is etherious. At the very least, she's about as much demon as Natsu was before Demon or Dragon.

There are some cool benefits to this origin. For starters, this was going to be my original explanation for Irene not being able to enchant herself on Erza. It's not a matter of loving Erza too much. It's a physiological incongruence between half-dragon and half-demon. This is why Wendy makes more sense as her ultimate choice.

Even beyond Irene, this helps to explain Erza's strength. It's joked about in and out of canon that Erza's strength breaks human logic. Natsu and Gray even question if Erza is human before we meet her in the anime. With this, we have one of the best possible explanations for how Erza can pull off superhuman feats - she's more than human. Her strength breaks the bounds of human logic specifically because she's not operating on them.

And remember, this is work based on Natsu becoming E.N.D. Not only am I working with a pre-established experiment set within the series. I'm also giving Erza a similar background to Natsu, a character I was bound to connect with her. If you think my post on how he stays in the guild because of her was good, consider I almost had these two connected by origin. I even had the idea to set this up with a snide remark about how no one gets him as she does. (It's at this point that my Natza shipping bias is showing.)

Why did I decide against this? (Oh boys...)

Frankly, the conceit of this scenario feels a bit much on a few levels. First off, Irene can find Erza's remain exactly where she buried them, hundreds of years after the fact. And that's assuming she cared enough about the daughter she was planning to replace bodies with to bury her remains in the first place.

But let's assume that she's able to find the body over the long amount of time she'd need. Hopefully, there's nothing built on top of them and she's able to escape Acnologia in the process. (Something that barely works in the canon, to begin with.) You would still have to believe that this is a plan Zeref would be willing to go through. Even if he remembers the process (not that I think he'd forget), I feel like he'd be apprehensive of the idea. This was a process he used to bring back his brother from the dead with the intention of Natsu killing him. Either the sanctity of the process' original use or the existence of another etherious may dissuade him from the repetition of this experiment.

And let's say that we grant all of that. Irene finds what she needs to and Zeref is willing to go through with the plan. This still is a fundamental change to Erza that would seriously need to be accounted for. I'd have to write circles around some of the bigger conflicts this causes. I'd have to come up with an explanation for how Erza either can pass through the barrier or isn't behind the barrier with the other girls. I'd have to address Kyouka potentially realizing she's dealing with another etherious in torturing her and why she doesn't get a similar treatment to Mirajane. I'd have to skate around any times this potentially could have been revealed up to the moment we learn of Erza's true origin. And, for what it's worth, Grayza isn't a ship I've left off the table for the rewrite proper. (Enough said.)

For all the trouble this could cause me, it's not like its influence is lost on me. Consider that Natsu and Erza's relationship is going to be a bit more pronounced than it was in the original. Irene doesn't enchant herself onto Erza as their bodies are incompatible. Part of Erza's strength comes from what Irene had done to her own body before she was born. So, even as I put this aside as a possibility for the official rewrite, it does affect it in some interesting and important ways.

Based on Part 23

#irene belserion #erza scarlet #the rewrite of fairy tail #what if 9 #i have another one of these ideas #anyways #this is a fun peak behind the curtain #especially considering this was a scrapped idea #that i'm revealing to the public #not unlike mashima

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hilllsnholland · 5 years

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Bucket List - (3)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Deaf!Reader

Wc: 3.5k

Warnings: mentioning of depression and suicide

Summary: Car lights are not good for signing

A/N: Yes Bucket List is finally coming back!!! I’ve actually been working on this all summer but never posted it because people didn’t seem interested in it. BUT I don’t care anymore. I love this fic more than anything and it means so much to me so if you’re here to read it then I hope you enjoy :)

Brant slammed the ice cream machine off while whistling to himself a song that Tom did not recognize. He always had a song on his mind, singing or humming at all hours of the day. Even at one of the football games Tom attended he heard Brant singing to himself. And like most days, Tom was fucking sick of it.

Tom’s eyes were burning from the long day in the sun and scanning the bucket list Y/N had handed him. Not to mention the lack of appropriate sleep Tom was getting, he was a wreck. The sun was setting though, meaning that their shift was over and Tom could retreat back into his house for the night. He could plan out what to say and do with Y/N, and figuring out what he wanted to do for his own bucket list.

“You wanna kick back at my place tonight?” Brant dangled his keys from his finger, showing off the BMW symbol.

“Not tonight,” Tom threw his badge onto the back desk. “Haz and I are going to do stuff tonight,”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you two are fucking,”

Tom faked a laugh, rolling his eyes at the immature joke.

“Not my type, mate,”

Brant said something unintelligible and left out the backdoor leaving Tom to finish closing. Thankfully Milky was a small place, cleaning took maybe twenty minutes tops, and Tom had been keeping up with chores for the whole day. After some last-minute sweeping and soaking, Tom locked the store and went out to his car, throwing the bucket list onto the dash.

Everyone had a bucket list, that was obvious. Most people had things like, ‘go to Disneyland’ or ‘visit the Grand Canyon’ and even ‘climb Mt. Everest’. These adventures scaled from tangible to daydreams. Yet, reading Y/N’s was different. It was a look inside of her mind, a puzzle of sorts of what she wanted. It was an amalgamation of things she wanted and loved, so Tom should do the same. He racked his brain for the entire drive over to his house of things he wanted. His seemed so insignificant to the grand scale that Y/N had shown him. Tom wanted this summer to be legendary, like all young people do. But to write it down and not make it cheesy, that was the ultimate battle.

Yet, the only quests he could think of were basic and ordinary. It had dawned on Tom that maybe he was boring. That would explain why he couldn’t pick a major, or why he only had one friend he truly trusted. Maybe his whole life was just that. A simple, non-important stream in a universe of many others. It was days like this Tom wished to turn his brain off. Maybe he should study philosophy because all he did was dread the unknown and unimportance. That doesn’t pay bills though.

Tom turned into the driveway of his rented home, almost unaware that he arrived there. He sat in a trance, staring at the bucket list over and over again. Why did this paper have so much power over him? It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. But Y/N had made out to be some sign from God. That was the thing about California, the girls were crazier than back in London.

“Mate, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Harrison’s voice spooked Tom from his daydream.

“No, but I did spend six hours in hell with Brant,”

Harrison shudders dramatically while Tom slides out of the car holding back a laugh. The two enter the home where Tom can tell Harrison had been cooking because the batteries are out of the fire alarm and there’s an aroma of burnt batter. There’s colorful frosting smashed into the granite countertops with glitter sprinkles everywhere.

“Uh ...did a unicorn explode in here or?”

“LJ needed cupcakes for a sorority summer fling,” Harrison starts to wipe the stained counters with a wet rag while he tries to hide his embarrassment. “Moving on, what’s that paper in your hand?”

“What paper?”

Tom slides the list into his pocket as he nonchalantly strides to the fridge and grabs a beer. Harrison folds his arms over his chest and leans into his back leg, staring at Tom like he’s a child who broke something. Maybe Brant was right. They do act like a couple sometimes. Tom rolls his eyes and throws the list onto the island counter. Harrison reads it while mouthing the words like a child learning to read.

“So...a bucket list?”

“Y/N’s bucket list,” Tom prodes the paper with his finger. “She came to Milky with her friend from the party. We talked...and she was all mysterious you know? And she gave me this list and told me to read it.”

Harrison nodded slowly and tried to put on a supportive front for his best friend, but honestly he was sure Tom lost his marbles.

“Is this like some treasure hunt for her hand in marriage or something?”

“No you div!” Tom takes the paper back in frustration. “I don’t...I just...I don’t know Haz. She makes me happy. And this list makes her happy, so ergo, I need to make a bucket list too,”

Tom had never felt this way before. He was logical of course, but fuck this was driving him to hallucinations. Something about Y/N made him go crazy with the need to find himself. Maybe it was her whimsical being, or the fact she was so confident with herself, but it made Tom want to pursue this more.

“Tom, are you sure this doesn’t have to do with school-”

“Haz, we’re not talking-”

“Your parents called me. They said you haven’t returned any of their calls. They want to figure out their plans when they come to visit and they’re worried about you. Tom, why won’t you tell them the truth? Or me? What are you ashamed of?”

It felt like a sour ball was stuck at the base of Tom’s throat. He wanted to throw up, cry, and scream in the same breath. For a while, he’d been sending his parents calls to voicemail. Then the twins. Even Paddy he barely messaged back. But it hurt Tom too much to talk to them. He couldn’t face them without feeling like a complete failure. Now his own best friend was looking at him like he was a child. Always, Tom felt like a child in a world of people who had their shit together.

“I’m not talking about this-”

“You fucking have to! Are you depressed? Suicidal? Why are you drinking so much Tom? Seriously, what is your deal and why won’t you talk to us?”

Tom looks at the unopen bottle of beer in his hand. Maybe he did come home and drink more often now. Maybe he did stay secluded to his room and not talk as much. But he didn’t want to die and he didn’t need beer to live. It just filled him with something other than anxiety. Or maybe it was a feeling of being lost? Tom was a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what was actually going on in his own head, except for wanting to see Y/N.

“Here, I don’t want it,” Tom slides the bottle across the kitchen counter to Harrisons.

“Stop avoiding me Tom,” Harrison warns. “Stop using that girl as an excuse to fuck off. If you need help or a friend, I’m here. You don’t need to chase her around like she’s the most amazing thing on this planet,”

“Maybe she is,”

“Well, you don’t fucking know that because you don’t fucking know her!”

Harrison had yelled so loud that even he was shocked. He never raised his voice, Tom had only known a handful of times that he has and it was all at parties or during a bar rumble with drunken dicks. Both men stood in the kitchen staring at each other, waiting for the other to make a move, but it didn’t happen. Both felt the anger of Harrison’s words and that was all Tom needed.

“I’m...gonna go for a drive,” Tom said flatly.

“Tom…”

“No, we just need to cool off.”

Married couple indeed. Tom grabbed his keys again and walks out the door without looking back at his best friend. He didn’t know where he was driving, but he knew for sure he needed at least an hour to calm down before facing his friend. That was the problem with Harrison, he was always so emotional and took everything to heart. Nothing could be grey, it always had to be black or white. Harrison had always pushed Tom to make a decision, ‘now, now, now’. It always had to be now.

Tom takes a right turn through the residential, turning the radio down so it was softly playing a Lewis Capaldi song. He scanned the neighborhood for any kids playing late night hide and seek. With the city-wide curfew, the kids had to be smart with how they would have their nightly adventures. Tom watched a few kids dive behind a bush as he slowly rode down the street, his mind consumed with words that didn’t connect.

It was a lot of angry words, a string of consciousness of things that Tom couldn’t shake. There were too many things happening at once and he didn’t know how to handle it all. Fuck, it was a never-ending cycle of thoughts. To turn his brain off would be a miracle, just for a day to know things were exactly where they needed to be.

Tom blinks himself out of frustration to find himself turning down Mainstreet. It was frightening how far he could go without realizing it. The subconscious can do amazing things really. Tom huffs, trying to take in the beautiful scenery of the hanging lights down the rustic buildings. The college kids stumbling from parties or the dive bar at the end of the street. Older couple racing to their cars from their expensive dinners. Creekview never faltered from this. Any night of the week it would be the same old thing.

Except for pink. There it was again. Now racing down the street in a snug ponytail. Tom catches Y/N’s figure as she runs through Mainstreet in athleisure attire. Would it be too creepy to pull up? To ask if she needs a running buddy or a ride? Tom slows the car down as she comes to the crosswalk. Y/N runs past, looking at his bright headlights and then stops. A smirk appears on her lips while her eyes squint at the blinding light. She continues her spring up to the side of the car.

“Hello, stalker,” She greets.

“This is definitely a coincidence,”

Y/N pulls on the handle of the car to try to open it. Was she really trying to catch a ride? Tom unlocks the door and Y/N hops in, clicking the roof light on so she can watch Tom talk.

“Yeah just finding me right after dark and picking me up so no one will ever see me again,”

“I never invited you in. You’re trespassing,”

Y/N laughs, nodding in agreement. She signs something which Tom’s guesses means ‘true’ and then unties her hair. It was faded now, returning to the original color. The remains were a pastel pink, kinda like the sky. It was soft, wavy from being put up for the run. Y/N turns the radio up and places her hand on the speaker, humming along to the bass.

“Is this Bay Area music?”

“Yeah, I leave it on because the other channels are Spanish or Country,”

“Interesting,” Y/N raises an eyebrow as Tom tries to think of a non-sketchy route to take. “So, the list,”

That was why she entered the car. To test him to see if he actually read the note or made any attempt to decode it. She analyzed him, looking for any trace of confusion or understanding. Tom reaches into his pocket and throws it back to her.

“I like it a lot. I want to add to it,”

“Good, I was hoping you would,” Y/N smiles at him. “Go to the Bridge,”

“The Bridge?”

“I thought I was the Deaf one. Yes, the Bridge by Canary Street.”

Tom motions a yes and takes the side street down to head towards the Bridge. The Bridge was an old road that barely anyone took anymore. Now there were freeways that connected Creekview to everything, while the Bridge became a site for teens to fuck in their car or people to hide out. There are even ghost stories about a woman in white haunting the area. Tom had only been there twice before with Brant and Ty so they could drink. It was isolated and dark, probably not the best location to get to know Y/N but it was a start.

“Why were you out on a run this late?” Tom asks.

Y/N watches his lips move and shrugs.

“I got into a fight with my parents so I went on a run. Creekview is usually fine after dark.” Y/N states as she runs her finger down the gear panel. “Why were you driving around?”

“Got into a fight with Harrison,”

“Is that your friend from the party?” Y/N motions to her hair. “The blond? Crazy blue eyes and eye-fucking Lauren J all night?”

“That’s the one,” Tom laughs.

He turns into the abandoned Bridge site, parking off the side of the road and putting the car in park. He triple checks the doors are locked and turns to Y/N. She’s looking over the list again and holding out her hand.

“Pen?”

Tom scrambles in the center console for a pen, knowing Harrison always stashed them away because he could never remember one. Tom pulls out a blue pen and hands it to Y/N and she instantly starts writing Tom’s name under her list.

“So fate has brought us together much faster than I thought,” Y/N stifles a laugh. “This summer, Tom….”

“Holland,”

“Tom Holland, I want you to join me in making this summer our very best. We complete everything on our To-Do list without a single fuck about anyone else or anything else. We have until August 2nd, if you choose to take on this task,”

Y/N raises her pinky finger up, her face in the most breathtakingly beautiful smile he’s ever seen. She exudes confidence. She is the grace that Tom has always wanted. He bites his lip and connects pinkies with her.

“I accept this, under one condition,” She quirks at him. “You teach me sign language and everything about Deaf…”

“Culture?”

Tom nods.

“I would love to,”

Y/N’s cheeks perked into a darker color as she pursued her lips together in a poor attempt to hide her smile. They disconnect pinkies and Y/N holds the pen to write, her eyes hover over Tom expectantly.

“So, what is your bucket list?”

Tom swallowed hard. Hours of thought was put into this exact moment but he couldn’t think of a thing. His mind was consumed with wants that were juvenile compared to Y/N’s. Or what he thought would be unsatisfactory.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day and I can’t think of anything as cool as yours,” Tom shrugs. “I don’t want you to waste your summer with dumb things,”

“Tom, I have 'getting into a fistfight' on my bucket list. Nothing is stupid.” Y/N bops the pen on the tip of Tom’s nose. “You overthink too much. Just live, you know? Whatever is your wildest dream we’ll do it. Or something small that you’ve always wanted to do. Stop imaging this inconceivable life and start enjoying the one you can have,”

It felt like he was smacked in the face. Y/N’s words made more sense to him than anything Harrison or his parents had ever said to him. Although it was an echo chamber, Tom believed Y/N more. Whether it was her amazing charisma or the fact his brain was controlled by his dick, he listened to her.

“I want to get kicked out of a diner,”

“What?”

“Kicked out of a diner,” He said again a little louder. “In Pulp Fiction the cops get held up in a diner and then Samuel L. Jackson’s character talks the robbers out of shooting everyone and then him and Travalto leave the diner, guns tucked into their belts, and they look really cool,”

“So what does that have to do with getting kicked out of a diner?” Y/N laughed, following along as best as she could.

“Well I don’t want an actual diner to get robbed so I think best-case scenario would be to get kicked out and leave all cool like they did. Minus the guns. It doesn’t make any sense but it will if it happens.”

Y/N looks at him cluelessly, trying to follow the mangle of words that spilled out of his mouth in an embarrassing fluster. Tom bites his tongue and takes the paper out of her hand, scribbling down the other items on his bucket list. Tom leaned over the middle console and opened his dry mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry,” He looks up so she can see his mouth. “I don’t know how to...be better? I don’t want you to feel lost or confused,”

“That’s my entire life,” Y/N dryly chuckles and shrugs. “We’ll meet each other in the middle. You sign and I talk,”

Tom could smell the peach shampoo in her hair as she moved closer to his face. The dim light in the car was not ideal, but the shadows played tricks on Y/N’s face. Tom saw the darkness emphasize her full cheeks and the curve of her lip as she forced a smile. Her eyes were dark as they met his.

“I want to sign, not talk,” Tom stated. “I really like the way you and Tejas talk...sign...uh you know what I mean. I love the way your hands move when you sign my name and how…”

Tom paused, looking to her hand that was gripping the leather of the center console to settle her nerves. She was nervous, just like him. Y/N hid it well. She looked down at her hands and flushed, looking back to Tom and swallowing hard. Their faces were so close, just like the party, and Tom missed the way her lips felt. He almost forgot how that kiss felt, almost. He remembered the silk of her lips and his heart exploding out of his chest. Tom remembered wanting to kiss her again and again. Yet, he also remembered the insane guilt that buried him alive after realizing she was just trying to read to his lips.

Y/N seemingly moves in closer but stops before meeting his lips. Both hold their breaths, scared of who will make the next move. Tom flinched forward, so close to grasping the euphoric taste of her lips, but retreats back. He didn’t want to make the same mistake. He doesn’t want to push it too far so he sits back into the drivers chair and finishes the last item on the list. Y/N stares at him in surprise. She’s quiet, watching him etch the last letter into the page.

“Here,”

Y/N looks over the paper, making a confirming ‘hmph’ noise as she reads the last four items.

“Hike through the hills of Creekview?”

“I’ve never been,” Tom shrugs.

“Crowdsurf?”

“Looks fun,”

Y/N laughs at the fourth one.

“Set something on fire? Pyromaniac much?”

“Nothing too big and not a firepit. Think ...artistic.” Tom explains.

“I’m starting to think you’re a psychopath,”

Y/N quips and gains an easy laugh from Tom. He decided on adventures that were close to his heart but also possible. In the time he’d live in Creekview he’d never been near the popular hiking trails, and it would also go great with Y/N’s first item, swimming in Creek Lake. Crowd surfing was something that is one everyone’s bucket list. Simple. Y/N looks at the last item and pauses, looking Tom straight in the eye.

“...deciding your future,” Y/N says. “What does that mean?”

The most important one of all. The one that Tom had bookmarked in his subconscious for this list. Through these adventures, he’d hope to find his meaning or what Y/N called her purpose. Most importantly, Tom wanted to find his passion and he believed Y/N would be the right person to help.

“I guess we’ll figure that out together,”

Tom extends his pinky again, to close the promise they made before. The rest of the summer was going to be the two of them against whoever stood in their way to finish this glorified piece of paper. Maybe it was a dumb idea, like Harrison had inferred it to be, but Tom saw it as his answer. And a way to find out more about this mysterious pink-haired girl. Y/N connects her pinky, kissing her hand as they touched.

“It’s a deal,”

Taglist:

@screeching-student-unknown / @nyctophilicstyles / @vintage-moonlight / @breadbudzo / @h-natale / @originalpinkpowerranger/ @happywolves81 / @drunkgreek / @iamnida95 / @sydthekidsloth / @spiderboytotherescue / @laureharrier / @starksparker / @madon566 / @nophunleague / @itsbrittneynicoleee / @hereiamhereigo / @kkaup04 / @way-ward-whale / @thewackywriter / @safarimama / @watermelonfruitsalad / @ceciliaromeroo / @lovely-luke / @ninjalex1d / @captainbuckyy

#Tom Holland imagines #Tom Holland fics #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland blurb #Tom Holland blurbs #Tom Holland fluff #Tom Holland angst #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker imagines

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robert-c · 4 years

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The Abortion “Debate”

What has always amazed me about this was the completely untenable position of those opposed to the right to choose; as well as their moral hypocrisy.

Let’s skip over the theological debate over when life begins etc. unless we are going to live in a society where there is an official state religion, that should have no bearing on the issue. Only independent living beings can be supported, protected etc. by a government. Something living only while it is inside of a person, should give that person the primary say about what happens.

But let’s skip past that for a moment too.

Those who support these restrictions on abortion (all of which are intended to be a piece by piece removal of the right to a safe and legal abortion) believe some pretty strange things. For example, I read that a lot of women opposed to abortions believe that today it is being used as a means of birth control. There is not one shred of evidence to suggest that this is widespread let alone a majority of the reasons for abortions – BUT even if it were true…what would preventing such a woman from having an abortion do? Can anyone really be so naïve as to think that a woman who would casually have an abortion as a means of birth control would suddenly become a responsible mother? Or even use birth control? Can you even imagine her being responsible during the pregnancy? More to the point, would any of these people so sure that banning abortions for women like that actually adopt a baby from such a woman? People believe some pretty unrealistic things when it is easy for them to do so, especially when it allows them to have a simple answer to complex issues.

But let’s return to the often cited argument about when “personhood” should be defined to start. It sounds like a legitimate question but it is nothing more than a ploy to enforce a particular religious view point under the guise of a legitimate question. So let’s examine what happens when we try to go down that path. Pick any point you want before birth to claim that the fetus has become a person entitled to equal protection under the law, same as any other citizen. That would mean that every miscarriage, every still birth would have to be investigated as a possible homicide. Since the people who propose these sorts of restrictions don’t actually care about people as much as their simplistic “principles” we can skip over the anguish and emotional turmoil the women involved would be feeling. How does an investigation like that go? Do we examine every detail of the woman’s life? Did she not exercise enough? Or too much? Was she eating properly? (and what does that mean, exactly and who decides?) Did she perhaps have a drink of wine before she knew she was pregnant? And since we can’t always pinpoint the reason for the miscarriage how will we pin this on any one cause? The proposals at the heart of this “movement” are incapable of being enforced with any objectivity, fairness or accuracy. And any attempt to do so is just intrusive, in a way more personal than any of the other aspects right wingers love to complain about.

And what about those situations where health conditions force a choice between the life of the mother or the baby? Who gets the priority? If the “fetus” is accorded all the rights of a fully independent human, how does the law work in a case like that?

Let’s look at a big picture here. The one thing the world isn’t short of is people. We are not on the verge of extinction through lack of procreation. We have plenty of societal problems from people who were raised in dysfunctional families, why would we want to encourage more unfit parents to have children that they don’t want and can’t afford (financially or emotionally) to raise? I think this goes back to the idea of not wanting to be wrong and to have simple answers for all of life’s complicated issues.

I suppose we should give some examination of the religious issue, even though a truly free society cannot have an official religion. Most, if not all, of the anti-choice forces I’ve read about or met, seem to focus on a Christian version of religion for an excuse to ban it. But consider this, abortion has been around for thousands of years. It was certainly known and practiced in the time of Jesus. And yet he doesn’t mention it at all in his teachings about moral behavior.

While Catholics don’t believe in artificial birth control or abortion, it is less them and more the evangelical protestants that want to ban others choices in these matters. I suspect that the strenuous objection to others choice of an abortion is the product of various preachers, and their flock. The same flock who thump a Bible they’ve never fully read or understood, and take their beliefs from a preacher instead of from the book they claim it comes from. In other matters they will point to a passage in Leviticus claiming to condemn homosexuality (which technically only condemns voluntarily taking the role of “bottom” in such an act) but omit mentioning the passages where they would be condemned for their polyester cotton mix clothing; for eating bacon, lobster, shrimp; or for their lack of animal sacrifices at the temple.

In short, the religious objection to abortion is irrelevant in a society without a State religion and inaccurate on its own terms. It is little more than a few influential people swaying a larger group of folks who don’t want to have to think for themselves. The unfounded fear that there are people, “out there somewhere”, not living in the same confining box, seems to be the real issue. It’s a lot easier to be an advocate for living in a 50+ year ago past if you don’t have to live side by side with people who aren’t restricting themselves that way.

Morality and ethics, spiritually or legally, are much more complex than simple absolutes. Admittedly, “thou shalt not kill” has a nice simplicity, a punchy “ad man sound bite” quality, but the better translation is “murder” not “kill”. And even there are we to make no distinction between a premeditated murder, and that conducted in a fit of passion or rage? And what of those who leave someone in a situation which reasonably could be expected to lead to their death? Try as we might to reduce the world and all of its potential behavior into a few simplistic rules, true justice and compassion demand that we look at more.

As a man, it is impossible for me to fully imagine what it would be like to be a woman facing the choice of an abortion. The best I can do is come up with the “rational” side of the argument pro and con, if it were my choice to make for me. But that ignores the emotional and even chemical changes that such an event would have on me. It humbles me to attempt to put myself in that place. At the same time, I can fully appreciate the fact that it is a decision I would have to live with and I wouldn’t want someone else dictating it to me based on such flawed logic and morality as the “pro-lifers”. I know women who support abortion rights and choice, who personally could never choose to have an abortion. And I know Pro Choice women who have had an abortion, who believe it was the right decision at the time, and are still bothered by the fact that they had to make that choice. This is the essence of understanding freedom and personal liberty. It is, in fact, the core issue of what real freedom of belief is all about; making our own choices and living with the outcomes – THAT is real responsibility.

Anti-choice forces have tried to make this about responsibility, about “when life begins” and a host of other quasi-moral and quasi-scientific issues. But the real issue is and has always been about who controls your own life and your own body. It has always been a huge contradiction that the same people who fear government “over reach” and intrusion into the personal lives of people support such personal and intrusive action when it comes to personal ethical beliefs. The only truly uniting principle of their agenda is to dictate their set of personal beliefs on everyone. They often try to portray this as what is happening to them. But look at the facts. No one is forcing them to have an abortion if they don’t want one. They are only being prevented from dictating the choices of others.

Then there is the return of the “Domino Theory”. As a quick refresher; staunch anti-communists of the Cold War era believed we needed to be militarily involved in stopping the spread of Communism, notably in Viet Nam, because if we didn’t stop it in that country, then there would be another and another until it was this country. As unrealistic and idiotic as this idea was its reincarnation in the abortion debate is even … well, crazier. According to this logic, the ability to choose an abortion is the first domino in a chain that leads to “mercy killings” of people with birth defects, mental disabilities and … well, fill in the blank for whatever will get you riled up. That would certainly be awful, but I’m truly at a loss to see how the connection works, they are two very different situations. And just for the record, throughout all of history, those who seek to impose their religious views on others don’t seem to shrink back from killing those who don’t share their beliefs, and that has got to be at least as horrible and much more likely.

Do we need any more evidence that the anti-abortion, anti-choice forces are more about control than morality? Ask how much money have they donated to anti-abortion candidates compared to how much they have donated to providing health care and adoption to women with unwanted pregnancies. If, indeed, you are more interested in preventing abortions and providing for the consequences of unwanted pregnancies, where is the financial support for women to carry a baby to term and put it up for adoption? Can anyone provide data that shows that at least as much money is donated by anti-abortion supporters to this, than to candidates who simply want to make it illegal?

As a final note, you may not be aware of this salient fact. Many years ago when abortion was illegal, pregnant women needing to find doctors who would safely terminate a pregnancy were often helped by ministers and others of faith. They knew the dangers of unsafe abortions and they knew of the heartbreaking challenges of the women. Some trying to provide for another child when they couldn’t completely provide for the ones they had, some fearing violence merely for being pregnant, etc. These were men and women of faith who actually were aware of the pain in all aspects of the choices these people faced and who were there to provide comfort and help where they could.

If this is still a religious and ethical issue to you, then please try to answer honestly for yourself: if Jesus were here today, do you see him as someone providing comfort to a woman in such a situation, or one leading the crowd to throw stones? And if, in fact, this is some sort of sin that God will punish, well He will have His shot at all of us eventually, He doesn’t need a political hack interfering with our free will.

#abortion #pro-choice

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as-write-as-rain · 5 years

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Once Upon A Dream (remix) - Chapter 4

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: A Sleeping Beauty/Winter Soldier remix, featuring the reader as a SHIELD agent who might have powers (or just a really finely tuned intuition)

Warnings: None. If you’ve seen and enjoyed the Captain America films, you shouldn’t find anything troubling here.

The fourth chapter of my Fairy Tale AU for @moonbeambucky’s 5k Writing Challenge!

Chapter 4

While the droning computerized voice monologued, your feeling of danger had increased. And you’d been correct, as always – but it turned out things were a lot worse than even you had expected.

Still, the new information you’d obtained from the computer-claiming-to-be-a-man did serve to answer a lot of your lingering questions about why things at SHIELD had felt increasingly off, and precisely why all of you were now being hunted by your former colleagues.

As you drove back down the same highway you’d driven up only a few hours earlier, Nat napping in the backseat and Steve dozing beside you, you couldn’t help but mentally berate yourself for your inability to have foreseen this situation.

What good was an acutely sensitive sixth sense if it only told you something was up, but not what to look for? That’s like a fire station whose alarm only says there’s a fire somewhere, good luck finding it yourself. You depended upon your intuition, and your team depended on you – and you were letting not only them down, but the whole freaking country at this point.

“You alright?” Steve’s voice was a low murmur, careful not to wake Natasha; yet it startled you out of your internal diatribe.

“Yeah.” You paused and shook your head. “I mean, no. I mean – I just don’t even know anymore, you know?” He stayed quiet, listening, so you rushed to fill in the silence. “I just…how did I not see this coming?” You hated how your voice sounded strained, like you were on the verge of tears. There was no way you were going to cry.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. None of us saw this coming.”He reassured you.

“Okay, but I’m supposed to see stuff – stuff like this. And I’ve known for a while something was up, but this….this is so much more than what I’m used to. I just feel so far out of my depth, Steve. And I feel like I’m letting everyone down.”

“Y/N.” His voice was so calm and so serious you heaved a sigh and took your eyes off the road for a few seconds to glance at him. Even in the dimming twilight, the kindness in his eyes almost made you break. “Nobody blames you for this. Nobody expects you to see everything. Your quick thinking in there, shoving us into that vent shaft or whatever before the missile hit? That saved our lives. Nobody cares that you didn’t see this coming ten years earlier.”

You took a shaky breath and let it out. His words made sense; was it possible you were being too hard on yourself?

“Hell, if you wanna blame someone, blame me. I’m the one who failed to stop Zola all those years ago; if we’d managed to take him out then, this never would have happened.”

Stunned, you glared at him, quicker to leap to his defense than to your own. “Now you’re just talking crazy.”

Giving you that small, sincere Captain America Believes In You smile, he responded, “No crazier than you.”

“Steve. How could anyone think Zola’s actions – or HYDRA’s actions – were your fault? You did everything you could and then some. You were Captain Freaking America, the biggest hero of World War Two. You punched Hitler in the face like a million times! Nobody could possibly hold you responsible for anything that happened while you were in the ice.”

The volume of your whispers climbed higher, threatening to wake Nat, and Steve motioned for you to keep it down.

“What I’m trying to say, Y/N, is that the only people we can blame for Zola’s – or HYDRA’s – actions are Zola and HYDRA. Sitting around pointing fingers, even at ourselves, is a waste of time. It doesn’t matter whether any of us could have seen it coming – not that I’m even sure we could have done something to prevent it. This was put in motion long before you were even born; and even if you had noticed it last year or five years ago, would that even have made a difference?” He shook his head firmly, as if to answer his own question. “Ultimately, what really matters is what we do next, now that we know the threat.”

You made a face and chewed on the inside of your lip. There was a definite logic to what he was saying. The seeds of this had been planted eons ago. And regardless of whether you could have seen it coming, you hadn’t – so every moment spent beating yourself up about the past was a moment not spent figuring out what to do about the present. Continuing to waste time and energy on self-flagellation was far from helpful, and could honestly only make the situation worse.

“I guess you’re right,” you finally mumbled. The smartest course of action would be to immediately put all your focus into your intuition – to be fully present so you could know what to do. After all, tuning into your sixth sense took a lot of concentration, so being distracted by a self-inflicted guilt trip was bound to make it hard to hear. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Hey, what are friends for?” He gave you a wider, warmer smile; you tried to return it, but ended up yawning instead. He chuckled. “Here, pull over at the next rest stop and I’ll take over. You need to get some sleep.”

You napped until the sun came up, but couldn’t really get much more rest. Your dreams were once again full of searching – this time through a wild, tangled forest where thick branches choked out the sun and every strange sound felt menacing – so even though you slept for a good chunk of time, you still woke up exhausted.

Now the three of you were parked in a parking lot near the Tidal Basin, keeping an eye out for a guy Steve knew, a former Air Force pilot he thought might be able to help out. Apparently he jogged along the same route every morning, since Steve had seen him here on more than one occasion. Just as you were about to voice your hope that he’d pass by soon (you were in dire need of a shower and some grub), Steve turned the engine back on and started to exit the parking lot. Glancing around, you spied your target not far ahead, and sighed in relief. Steve slowly and covertly followed him back to a small complex in VA, and the three of you threw yourselves on his mercy.

One hot shower and one hot breakfast later, you’d found yourselves a fourth team member, and had at least a vague plan. You’d been impressed by Sam from the moment he invited the three of you into his home without hesitation. And his willingness to join the cause, knowing the risks involved, definitely endeared him to you.

Tracking down and threatening that jerk Sitwell had done wonders for helping you work out some of your frustration about the whole situation, and you were riding happily in the back of Sam’s car, listening to the traitor whine, when suddenly your intuition went absolutely haywire. Tensing, you grabbed Nat’s knee, and one look at your face told her to stay alert; Steve caught your expression in the rearview mirror and did the same. Sitwell was screaming some nonsense when suddenly something or someone jumped on top of the car and dragged him out of the window. You ducked instinctively, grabbing your knives from your boots and narrowly avoiding the bullets the assassin emptied into the seats.

Sam hit the brakes, and suddenly your attacker was skidding to a surprisingly graceful stop on the road in front of you, as though he hadn’t just been hurled though the air. He stood there menacingly, all black leather, metal arm, and muscle, a creepy mask covering the half of his face that wasn’t obscured by his long hair.

With a gasp, you rolled yourself into a ball, suddenly anticipating a collision. It came in the form of a heavily armored Hummer, which slammed into the back of Sam’s Impala and shoved it back into motion, propelling it directly towards the masked figure. He leapt back over the car, landing on top of it and shattering windows with the force of his impact.

“Sam!” you screamed, but you didn’t even have time to finish your warning before a metal fist penetrated the windshield and snatched the steering wheel through it, as easily as grabbing a handful of candy.

The weight on top of the car lightened considerably, and you knew the metal man in black had disembarked once again. However, the damage had already been done, and you braced yourself, knowing that it was only a matter of seconds before you were forcibly ejected from the vehicle.

Sure enough, mere moments later the four of you were rolling across the asphalt, trying to keep your injuries to a minimum. The other three jumped back up, but you lay there a minute, gasping – your head was screaming every time you looked at the assassin, and you couldn’t piece together a single coherent thought.

Once four men exited the Hummer and opened fire, marching forward with an almost mechanical calm, you dove behind a vehicle to shield yourself. The bullets tracked you relentlessly, and when Steve got flung off the bridge, you and Natasha immediately headed in opposite directions, hoping to split their barrage of bullets.

The meaty metal-armed guy – what had Nat called him? The Winter Soldier? – went after her, while the four agents focused on you. You drew your glocks and tried to return fire when you could, but their machine guns had the advantage. Luckily, Natasha swung off the bridge and managed to get in a nice shot at her pursuer, giving you the distraction you needed to deploy your own utility belt and join her at street level.

Taking a couple deep breaths, you looked around, trying to gauge exactly where in the city you’d landed. So many of the federal buildings down here looked the same, which meant it was often difficult to get your bearings.

But with enemies hot on your trail, you knew you didn’t have time to dally. You picked a direction and ran, praying your intuition would guide you to the location least likely to be filled with civilians. Luckily, it was still the middle of the workday, so you were counting on the fact that most people would be safely ensconced in their office buildings.

You spied an abandoned gift shop with a small park beyond, so you ran around its corner and knelt behind the trashcan conveniently located there, ready to ambush anyone who followed you. Your ploy paid off immediately, as two figures hurried around the corner and past the trashcan, eyes sweeping the grassy area. If it had been lunchtime, there might have been more people on the benches surrounding the bronze statue at the center, but right now it was empty.

You pounced silently from your concealed hiding place onto the shoulders of the closest agent, swiftly incapacitating him with a blow from your electrified gauntlets – Nat had given you a pair once after catching you admiring hers, and you never tired of using them.

Your assailant’s partner whirled around, but you were ready, and with a few swift kicks you managed to knock him unconscious too. Quickly checking both bodies, you disarmed the men and then used a length of cord you’d found on one of them to tie them up, back to back.

Hopefully when this was over, your team would be able to question these men and formulate a better plan for how to beat HYDRA. But for now, no new enemies arrived, and you realized the rest of the assailants must have decided to follow your friends instead of you.

You desperately wanted to get back out there and help them, but first you desperately needed to pause and get a handle on what your intuition was trying to tell you. It was something about the guy in the mask, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

Cursing your sixth sense for the 600th time that day, you gathered yourself back up and headed in the direction of the gunshots and screaming.

You reached the action just as Steve and the Soldier were fighting one-on-one in the middle of the street. Cars had been abandoned left and right, and a battered bus lay on its side at the closest intersection. Luckily, it appeared that any civilians who might have been in the area had managed to flee. At least that much was a relief.

Natasha and Sam were nowhere in sight, though that didn’t stop you from scouring the area hoping for a glimpse of them, before finally turning your attention back to the main event. Creeping carefully behind the parked cars lining the street, you kept an eye out for an opportunity to shoot. Unfortunately, the two men were fighting at near lightning speed, literally inches apart – making it nigh impossible to get a clean shot.

Sure, Steve would likely survive if you shot him by accident, but you’d rather not help his attacker if at all possible.

Watching the action intently, you noted with interest just how evenly matched the two of them were. Usually Steve took out every opponent with ease, sometimes five at a time. But this guy was able to block a lot of his hits, and get in more than a few of his own. You quickly deduced this was no ordinary human, that he was probably enhanced in much the same way Steve was. Maybe it was gamma radiation? You’d heard some scientists had had spotty success creating superhuman strength that way.

Finally, Steve got in a few good punches and threw his foe far enough away from him that you knew it was the perfect opportunity to shoot – though you were admittedly unsure at this point whether your bullets would even make a difference, you had to at least try.

And yet, as you raised your gun, time seemed to slow down, and you suddenly found yourself unable to pull the trigger. Because when you glimpsed his face, you recognized it in an instant, and your heart leapt.

You knew every inch of that face.

You’d seen that face every night for the better part of 10+ years.

I guess he wasn’t really dead after all.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #fairy tale au #marvel #once upon a dream (remix)#taras5kwritingchallenge

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divinion1990 · 5 years

Text

Things We Do Not Speak Of Ch2

~~~~CHAPTER TWO~~~~~

Read Chapter 1: Tumblr | A03 | fanfiction.net

Summary: Following the Alverez war, Natsu needs to talk to Gray. There is too much left unspoken, events that they haven’t been able to talk through, but he can’t even step through his front door without seeing his friendly stalker outside… Characters: Natsu Dragneel; Gray Fullbuster; Juvia Lockster Ships: Natsu x Gray, Gray x Juvia

On the second day, Natsu had known to expect Juvia on the bench outside Gray’s house. Instead of going directly to the home of his friend, he walked on the other side of the street and straight towards the rain woman. “Still no luck?” he asked absently, more to make his presence known than anything else.

Her eyes lit up seeing the company, though he did notice they dropped a little when realising it wasn’t who she’d hoped for. He tried not to take offense to that. “Natsu, you’re back!” she said, as she pushed away the bags and made room for him to sit once more beside her.

He grinned back and sat down, holding out what looked to be some kind of baton for Juvia to take. “What’s this?” she asked curiously, examining the thermos flask. As opened it slowly, the scents of warming spices and rich chocolate engulfed her.

“I figured even you could get sick of the cold sometimes,” he told her, watching as she took it close to her chest and secretly admiring how easily she could hold the scorching metal. “You been out here for a while?”

“Thank you, Natsu…” she said with a small blush. Not like the blushes she would so often have when experiencing her sweet girl crush, but softer and genuinely thankful. “Juvia doesn’t mind the cold. But she does appreciate the warmth too… Would you like a drink?”

Natsu couldn’t rightly refuse, nodding and beaming from ear to ear. Quickly, the two cups were placed between them and filled with the surprisingly thick hot chocolate, overpowering the air with a richly sweet taste.

“Sometimes, Gray-sama will bring Juvia a hot drink when it’s cold. Sometimes he will even come out and drink it with Juvia,” Juvia said into her steaming mug thoughtfully, looking back up at the house, warmed by her memories.

It was something Natsu had been thinking about over the last day or so, mulling over who he would be seeing that evening and what he would say to them. Time and time again, he found himself reflecting on Gray and Juvia, their twisted relationship and the adoration that struggled to come to the surface, all the while trying to ignore the twisting in his stomach. “Doesn’t that irritate you?” he asked, somewhere between confused and genuinely concerned. “His house is right there. He knows that we’re sitting here, and he doesn’t even think to come out? He just sits in there, probably all smug and warm and laughing at us!”

Juvia watched Natsu carefully, trying to pull apart his grumblings. It was a familiar tone, one that she knew all too well from years of studying Gray and Natsu’s friendship straining to the point of constant fights. Her expression softened. “Gray-sama has his own way of showing others that he wants them close,” she tried to explain.

Natsu turned back to Juvia, caught by surprise by her confidence. “Like what?”

She smiled again. “He bought Juvia a bench.”

He blinked. He stared at her again, for longer this time, turning his head to the side. “What bench?”

“This bench!” Juvia said brightly, looking back at the house and blushing again. “Juvia now can always have somewhere to stay if she wants to be close to her Gray-sama!”

Natsu decided that he was no longer sure which of the two was crazier than the other. He just had images of Gray finally losing his patience with Juvia standing outside of his house, knowing he couldn’t beat her entirely and reluctantly trying to make her as comfortable as possible. But then, maybe Juvia was right. Maybe he couldn’t bare the idea of her staying apart from him, even if he couldn’t gather the courage to let her inside.

“Juvia told Gray-sama where you were,” Juvia continued, hearing only skeptics silence from the dragon slayer. “Juvia said that you would looking forward to seeing him but he… said there was work to be done on the markets. Is something wrong…?”

Natsu pulled a face, sinking low into his seat until he was almost horizontal. “Who knows?” he grumbled, taking a sip of the hot liquid. “I haven’t really talked to the iced bastard for a while.”

Juvia nodded, a glimmer of deep understanding in her soft smile. “Gray-sama has spent a long time by himself since the battle. He spends time working, or with the guild… but in the evenings he is usually alone.”

“Not even with you?” Natsu looked up.

“Why would Gray-sama be with Juvia?”

Sometimes, Natsu felt like shaking her and her innocence. There was that horrible feeling in the back of his throat again, which he drowned with more hot chocolate before sitting upright. “Because he loves you!”

Juvia’s face went scarlet. Her hands went weak, barely balancing the mug and avoiding disaster.“Juv-Juvia doesn’t- Gray-sama is so very-“

“Seriously?!” Natsu shouted in disbelief, unable to see how even he had seen this! His mind was racing, staring between the girl stuck in the seat and the house to the other side. Only one road between them, coated with layers of uncertainty and miscommunication which just continued to irritate Natsu. It had been years like this, not moving anywhere, and he’d just assumed there was something trickling slowly but surely between them. The worst kept secret of Fairy Tail.

He couldn’t quite explain the rush of urgency that came from deep inside him as he grabbed her hand. The hot chocolate slipped from her hands and fell onto the ground, spilling dark steaming liquid into the cracks below and barely missing the water woman’s skirt.

“N-Natsu, what are you-?!” she gasped.

"I'm sorting this out," Natsu answered stiffly, dragging her to her feet.

All of Fairy Tail had hoped that Gray and Juvia would one day work their relationship out for themselves, but it was clear that even after all these years nothing had changed. And it was unhealthy. For both of them. Natsu had no idea when or where that tipping point had appeared, when the strange games they played between each other had started to cause damage instead of annoyance, but now it was obvious. Alvarez had made a lot of unpleasant truths obvious.

Natsu kept his expression stony as he crossed the road, walking up to the front door of his best friend. He ignored how intense his smell was here, how much Juvia tried to pull away from his firm grip and offer some explanation. His determination was as powerful as it was foolhardy, and he made no hesitation to bang on the door loudly.

"Gray! I know you're in there so get your ass down here right now!!"

Juvia's face was turning brighter and brighter red. She could feel the heat of Natsu's palms tightly gripping her wrist, growing warmer as his words became filled with an inexplicable anger and frustration. Even if she'd wanted to, there was no escape. “Natsu, you don’t need to do this-“

They were both silenced by the sound of heavy footsteps. Natsu took a small step back, letting the door open to show the Devil Slayer, running a hand through his hair and wearing a heavy-set frown.

It was only then that Natsu remembered that this wasn’t just the first time he’d spoken to Gray for a several days; it was also the the first time he'd seen him. Some broken logic had expected him to look exactly as he had at the end battle, bloodied and bruised but wearing the smile of victory they all proudly donned. He’d expected to see muscles pumped on adrenaline, an exhaustion that itched to take on the next challenge while dreading yet another. The difference made him temporarily forget why he was standing in his doorway. That strange lump in the back of his throat returned. Gray looked drained. His body slouched and hair fell flat. He looked tired. He looked-

Gray just blinked, looking between his two guests in confusion. "What’s… going on?"

Natsu swallowed hard, pulling Juvia in front of him like a shield. “You should know what’s going on!! You’ve been getting Juvia to sit outside your damn house for years without even letting her in!!” he yelled, realising that he was biting with more anger than he’d expected.

Gray just looked blank and dazed. His gaze now shifted from Natsu solely to Juvia, watching as her face continued to burn.

"Juvia tried to explain…" she excused herself weakly, eyes flicking up to Gray's and down to the ground.

Gray's mouth turned dry. He just couldn't even work out how to respond, though his hands were instinctively starting to curl into tight fists. "Natsu, what the hell are you-"

Natsu wasn't going to simply argue with words. He dragged Juvia forward and suddenly let go, leaving the young woman stumbling forward. She gasped, only realising too late that she was thrown into the strong arms of her half-naked crush. Her face when from rose to crimson red, a heat radiating from her cheeks and hissing in steam against his cooling touch. "Juvia-Juvia-" she mumbled, words completely escaping her.

"Natsu!!" Gray hissed at him.

"Work it out!" Natsu yelled at them both, taking another step back. His body felt ready to collapse with the adrenaline through his veins, his heart pounding so hard he could no longer hear the thoughts in his head. That was probably a good thing. This needed to run on instincts alone; instincts and anger. "Both of you stop fucking around. She loves you, you love her - so get over it and just admit it already!"

Gray and Juvia looked back at each other, a moment of shock written across both of their expressions. It was nearly impossible to read anything else but pure surprise when they were literally being pushed together, although Natsu couldn't miss the way that Juvia's body leaned closer against Gray's bare chest.

It was definitely time to leave them to it. Before either of them could raise a word of protest, Natsu had slammed the door on their faces. Whatever was going to happen now, he didn't want to see it. Didn't want to be a part of it any more than he already was.

For the life of him, he couldn't work out why his good deed had left him with such a pain…

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! If you wanna read a nice cute Gruvia, you can stop here. Otherwise, next chapter will hopefully be up and running shortly :)

#gratsu #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #gray fullbuster #juvia lockster #love #rivalry #mixed messages

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