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ashes-writing · 2 years

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daydreams | stranger things ; s.harrington

A/N ; Okay soooo.. Remember the two I wrote for Steve (mine, caught up in you) This is... set further down the road from those but can be a part of them if you wanna look at it like that. This is taken from season 4 Vol 2 loosely. And when I say loose I mean.. whew. Loose.

I listened to his little speech in the van and like.. I got inspired so here we fuckin go I guess.

Pairing ; Steve Harrington!Femreader. Mentions of RoNance and Eddie!Femgirlfriend.

Timeline / Other Stuff to Note ; That scene when they're driving and Steve ahem.. admits that he wants a big family just got me all dopey, all love struck. So, this is set in season 4 but this was kind of written to be a companion piece to mine + caught up in you.

Tag List ; There's nobody on my stranger things taglist but.. I'll throw a tag to @rampagewriting, feel free to ignore if you don't want to see this bb. if you'd like to be added to my taglists for anything including fandom piece in question is for, please let me know or add yourself -> here.

Warnings ; Steve talking about the fact that he wants a big family (implied breeding kink) Innuendo after the fact, dry humping / lap riding and teasing. Look, this one is tame. Kinda. But the part I write to follow up to this might not be, if I actually yannow.. get off my ass and do it.

Other Stuff ; tag list doc || my rules - fandoms and some characters I write for || requests are open (pls.. pls... send me things) but they're limited to headcanon asks + filth/fluff alphabet letters and I'm not accepting wrestling / wrestlers in my ask box. Any other fandom/character but wrestling that I happen to write for is fine and I beg of you -> send me things.

I do not consent to my work being reposted elsewhere or copied/reworked/rewritten and reposted here or elsewhere. You don't own this, I do. So like... don't steal my shit.

The topic comes up and it catches you by complete surprise. You’re hanging on his every word when he starts talking about how he’s always pictured himself with a big family… Six kids. Three boys, three girls. It has you smiling softly to yourself when he brings that up. You swallow hard when he says it and you squirm a little in the passenger seat. He continues with this dreamy and faraway look in his eyes as he talks about the summers, when he’d pack everyone together into an RV or something and he’d take them to see the world. Or the parts of it they could access. There’s something about the look in his eyes when he’s talking about it that tugs at you. The mental images form in your head as he’s talking and they form so easily that it’s a bit of a shock for you.

When he pauses as he’s just started to talk about going to some little beach town in California, maybe learning to surf, you break the silence. “Go on.” you urge.

In the backseat, you can feel Robin and Nancy staring at you intently because you’ve reached out and taken hold of his hand and you’re dragging your thumb over his knuckles. You laugh softly and so does he. He shrugs, “Nothin, it’s dumb.” and he attempts to go quiet.

The silence that settles in the vehicle is thick and it’s too much. And all you can think about is how much you didn’t realize you want to be the one to give him everything he wants. Even the six kids, which considering you never once stopped to think about something so… Permanent with anybody else, that’s saying a lot.

What you’re starting to realize is huge and you’re struggling with it internally for the entirety of the rest of the little road trip you’ve all gone on. You can feel him watching you while he’s driving and you’re watching him right back. He pulls into a gas station, up to a pump to get some more gas. Eddie and his girlfriend as well as Robin and Nancy all make very hasty retreats out of the vehicle and this leaves only you and Steve sitting inside.

He chuckles awkwardly. “That was, um.. It was too much, huh?”

The words break through the happy little hazy and half-formed mental imagery in your brain and you jump a little at the way you’re shattering back to reality, pouting when you realize that nothing you’ve been imagining for most of the ride up to this cabin by the lake you’re all going to spend the weekend at is real. It’s all been imagined by you and you’d gotten yourself so lost -so entrenched in it… that you’ve been zoned out for at least twenty minutes now, just lost in it all. Trying to wrap your head around what you now know you want more than anything. With him and only him because you’ve never thought about this with anybody else.

“Look, if it’s too much or I scared you..” he speaks up again, pounding at the steering wheel lightly.

The other couples are still inside the gas station. You have a little time. Not much, but enough to say what you’re dying to.. To do something so he knows he’s not about to lose you. Because he looks like he wants to kick himself for even bringing it up.

“You didn’t. It wasn’t. I, um..” you stammer out as you glance towards the little gas station. The coast is clear.

You unfasten your seatbelt and settle yourself in Steve’s lap and you turn to face him, melting against him with a dopey little smile as you drag your finger over his bottom lip. “I want it too. All of it, okay?”

He nearly chokes on his tongue and he’s not sure whether it’s because of what you’ve just said or the fact that you’ve centered yourself right over the way he’s straining hard against his favorite jeans. His hands grip your hips and his head falls back as you roll your hips and bear down on the bulge just a little heavier. His hand wanders up beneath the little dress you were wearing and his fingers squeeze your thighs as he bucks himself up into you. He laughs. “Wow.” he mutters quietly, “You, uh… You’re sure, right?”

You nod and let your forehead settle against his as you hold either side of his face in your hands. Laughing. “Mhm.. Just curious, when did you ah… How soon do you wanna start, hm?” you rock yourself against him with another series of quiet giggles as you ask the question.

Steve growls quietly and leans into you, nipping at the front of your throat as his hand slips further up the bottom of your dress, settling palm down against your clothed sex to squeeze. You bite your lip and whimper, whining as you feel yourself getting even wetter. He locks eyes with you and gives you this gentle and yet somehow, wicked smile. He pretends to think it over.

“Tonight?” Steve laughs and he’s mostly joking when he says it but the look in his eyes is anything but joking. He looks so hungry. Like he’s barely holding on to restraint by a thin thread and any second, that thread is going to snap.

You gasp because he squeezes your cunt harder. You’re rocking yourself against his hand and whimpering and he ruts up into you from below as his forehead settles against yours. You grab either side of his face to pull your mouth against his greedily, dying for another kiss. “Tonight it is, then.” you answer quietly, unable to resist teasing him just a little more. Pussy aching at the thought of him buried inside you deep. Filling you up. And the way he stretches you out, ugh…You want it now. But you have to be patient because the cabin is at least another hour away.

“Baaabe.” he whines as you start to rock against his bulge a little more urgently. His teeth latch onto your lip and he mutters in warning, “Keep it up and it’ll be right here, right now.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader

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percontaion-points · 1 year

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TOWB chapters 5-8

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 5

One guard flinched when she looked at him, and drew a prayer circle on his chest, whispering about the curses of witch-women.

“Can I copy your homework?”

“Sure, but change some of the answers so that it doesn’t look like you did.”

Ranka turned—and met the eyes of the prince she’d come here to kill.

Chapter 5 summary: At the palace, she meets the captain of the guard, a man who introduces himself as Foldrey. She thinks that if anybody can help her find Yeva, this guy can. She says that since she’s here, that they can release the other witch that they kidnapped. But Foldrey acts like he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Ranka isn’t sure if he’s playing dumb or not, but doesn’t know who else would have taken Yeva.

They take her across the palace, and for some reason, this takes two fucking pages. They finally go into a dining hall, and Ranka starts to reach for some food. However, somebody stops her, and she mistakes him for Prince Galen. The other guy laughs and then realises that she legit doesn’t know who she is. Ranka is instantly on edge when she realises that this man is a male witch.

Chapter 6

Pastries and pale-pink wedges of cake were whisked forward. Ranka reached for the nearest and someone made a disapproving tsk to her right. Two silver forks gleamed in front of her, one slightly smaller than the other, their handles carved into the shape of a bird in flight. She hesitated, hand hovering over the forks. They looked the same. Why would anyone in their right mind have rules about forks that looked the same?

I don’t know why she gives a shit. She’s literally there to murder Galen.

Ranka knew, because on the way here she’d passed right through Kerth territory, hoping they’d know something about the rotting witch in the woods. Instead she’d found cold firepits, unlocked cabins, and dishes of maggot-infested venison still set out on tables, as though they had vanished midbite. There were no bodies, no bloodshed. They were just gone.

But why? And how could the palace not know?

This entire time, Ranka has not shut up about how the humans have been literally starving Witchik out of their home. And she’s somehow surprised and baffled that another coven would have packed up and moved on to greener pastures?

She would start, then, with the ones who did seem to have a keen eye fixed on the happenings within the palace walls—the noble boy and the princess. And she would start with winalin.

Chapter 6 summary: Galen and his twin sister, Aramis, come into the room, and we spend nearly a full page describing them. According to the reviews, the only thing of value anybody needs to take away from this is that their skin is “dark”. Aramis was raised from the time she was born to not only become the next queen, but also to be a powerful witch. But the magic never manifested in her, and her parents eventually gave the crown to Galen. Their parents died under mysterious circumstances last year, and Ranka suspects an angry Aramis poisoned them.

Ranka tries to talk about the weather; she’s from the mountains, where the snow never really goes away, so she’s dressed in a coat and boots. It’s a lot warmer down here, and people are wearing sandals.

They sit down to eat, where Ranka tries again to make conversation. It’s not going well. Eventually Aramis asks why it is that Ranka took so long to get here, and then scoffs at her answer of “I needed time to adjust to the idea of my new feature.”

Aramis then starts leading the conversation, and mentions one of the other covens that’s closer to the city. Ranka had passed that way in the hopes of asking them about the weird witch she’d encountered, but found their home abandoned. Literally nobody can put together why they would have left, even though the answer should be quite obvious.

Eventually, Aramis and the male witch leave, and Ranka is alone with Galen. She realises that Galen might be counting down the days to his coronation, but he’s not actually in charge here. Killing him would be beneficial towards the people, but wouldn’t solve the problems of the witches.

Chapter 7

And when that happened, there wouldn’t be enough blood-magic in the world to stop him.

Chapter 7 summary: They leave Ranka alone after that. She wanders the palace in search of Yeva, but fails to find her. She’s forced to admit that maybe the guard was telling the truth; there aren’t any other witches there.

She also hates how her entire role has been fulfilled simply by her showing up. Nobody gives a shit about her. But that leaves her free to explore the palace grounds without anybody stopping her. The only place she can’t go is into the dungeons, which are guarded night and day.

She’s exploring the stables when Aramis, Galen, and the mysterious male witch show up. He’s finally introduced as Percy, and he’s an ambassador from the Star Isles. This surprises Ranka a lot, since the Star Isles were involved in a war a while ago, and kind of “disappeared off the face of the earth”. At least politically. The fact that there’s representation here, that he’s chummy with the to-be-king, and the fact that they would have sent this glorified soldier is baffling to Ranka.

Anyway, they came to the stables to work on Galen’s storm magic. Ranka hides and watches. After they leave, she realises that when Galen finally matures and learns to control his magic, he’s going to be a powerful weapon. One that not even she can stop.

Chapter 8

Ranka opened the hatch and leapt into the dark.

Chapter 8 summary: Some more days pass without event. Ranka is finally awoken by the start of her period. It also coincides with her blood witch hunger; she needs to feed, and it needs to be now.

She remembers Aramis, Galen, and Percy mentioning tunnels in the stables, so she goes out there in search of them. If she can get out of the palace, she can subsist on rats or literally anything. But she can’t find them.

Then Aramis and Percy show up. They talk about keeping something from Galen. With her blood magic, Ranka can sense anxiety and guilt coming from both of them. Foldrey shows up, and mentions that the witch is dead, and the morgue has been alerted for the next two hours. Aramis and Percy leave via the tunnel Ranka had been searching for, but Foldrey remains for a moment longer.

It’s only after he leaves that Ranka decides that she can’t sit by knowing that Aramis and Percy are going to go look at a dead witch. She hops into the tunnel to follow them.

#The Ones We Burn #chapter 05 #chapter 06 #chapter 07 #chapter 08 #Ranka (TOWB)#Yeva (TOWB)#Foldrey (TOWB)#padding padding everywhere and no story to be found #HEADDESKING #sometimes a really does equal b #Aramis (TOWB)#Galen (TOWB)#Percy (TOWB)#how convenient

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glenflower · 2 years

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I think it is my new annual tradition to log into livejournal and send acromantulabtch’s abandoned account a desperate message, begging for the privilege of once again reading the all time classic darlenn fic, pack rules, knowing that my hope is futile but unable to give up

#the walking dead #twd #darlenn #acromantulabtch #personal #if anybody has a copy of pack rules #i will literally pay you to read it #i'm not even kidding #if somebody has a pdf or a download please for the love of god hit me up

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getitinbusan · 3 years

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10 years with Jungkook

California

You met Jeon Jeongguk in the summer of 2012. Two kids brought together by a calling to California and a chance at making it big. Best friends from the start, what happens when only one of you becomes successful? Do you ever forget your first love?

Childhood friends to lovers, angst and smut.

Words: 4600

Warnings: 18 plus smut. Oral F, Sex MF, Swearing. Pretty Mild for me. This is a previously posted fic that has been updated and reworked.

It was a rare rainy August day in California. The heavy drops created a sad melody on the window as you put the dishes away. Tired and lonely, the feeling in your gut kept nagging at you, maybe it was time to give up.

The savings account was drained, there were no jobs to be found and this was the second month of falling short on rent. Surely it would only be a matter of time before your roommates would stop exchanging house cleaning for money.

Hanging the threadbare towel over its hook you stood in the kitchen, your mood mirroring the dim light of the afternoon. Feeling frusterated and stupid, it had taken you way longer than it should have to realize that in LA, you were nothing. Not pretty enough, rich enough, skinny enough or talented enough to ever make it big. So this is how the great Califonia chapter of your life would end, not by choice but necessity.

Gathering up the mail that was strewn across the countertop, you shuffled through it sorting its priority. Junk mail, bills, personal…one in particular standing out. Your heart began pounding as you took in the details.

The penmanship was nice, black ink on an unassuming envelope. But it was the stamp that caught your attention. It was sent from Korea.

Flipping it in your hand you examined the torn top. The letter, having been read, was cradled back safely inside. Addressed to your roommate a frown crept onto your face. Why wouldn’t he write to you?

It was a ridiculously hopeful notion but you widened the envelope and inhaled trying to find a trace of his fragrance, something, anything to trigger a happy memory. Cool California nights were the best excuse. How many times had you borrowed his sweaters just to have his smell on you?

You missed him. It had been a year and a half and you couldn't help but once again ponder the nagging question that always crept back. If you hadn't forced him to break the rules would he still be a part of your life?

It was too tempting to resist, your fingers pinched the paper inside of the envelope and pulled it free.

I’m feeling low, I don’t know who I am, only who I’m supposed to be.

What would life be like if I had stayed in California? We could all be roommates, hanging out and having fun, going to the beach on weekends.

Does she even think about me?

It sounds greedy that with how much I have right now, it’s not enough. I would give anything to wake up in bed beside her everyday. I want more than anything to be able to talk to her about these things but I can’t. I’ve made the mistake of trading her for fame and now I’m destined to keep her at an arm’s length so she’ll never know the price I paid.

How does she even see me? As an Idol? As the boy who abandoned her? Has she forgotten the good days we spent together?

I’ve been wrestling with myself, whoever that is. I wish I could be the teenage boy from that long ago summer again. I wrote this song thinking about it…

~When I see you smile in the screen

You’re good at everything

You’re just perfect

Feels like I've never been you

Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don’t like me like that

I want to be your decalcomania~

I’m afraid I may not get back for a while, please write. Your friendship and thoughts of her are the only things that are keeping me tethered to some semblance of reality.

Clutching the letter to your chest, your mind took you back to that day.

"Decalcomania, the art or process of transferring pictures and designs. Making a copy of the original on a different medium"

Reading the description on the wall you’d both stood laughing at the piece's strange name, Decalcomania. The gallery visit felt like lifetimes ago but you still remembered clearly. You remembered, not because the piece had struck you as particularly special but because that's where you had decided that Jeongguk's laugh was the best sound you'd ever heard.

California had lured you into its promise when you turned 14. Having been accepted to an intensive dance program at The Movement Lifestyle Studio you packed up and headed West for the summer.

It was July and it was hot, the dancers stepping off the bus one at a time took their places in the studio.

Looking around there were so many older kids, you were probably one of the youngest. Calling out names they put you into groups, it appeared to be by age so you made your way across the unfamiliar wooden floor to the tiny gathering of teens in the darkened corner.

Shy introductions were made as one more member was ushered over to where you had congregated. “This is Jeongguk.”

He had the cutest smile and barely spoke english but his eyes twinkled like the constellations. Immediately drawn to each other you became fast friends.

Absolutely exhausted by the end of the first few days he quietly knocked at your door.

He was homesick and lonely, used to being surrounded by his six members, he couldn’t sleep well without someone beside him. You let him crawl into bed with you, you were 14 and it was innocent.

Inseparable, days and nights were spent side by side, the others began referring to you as the twins. It was the best summer of your life but like every boy meets girl summer story, it had to come to a close. Promising through tears to keep in touch and stay friends you went your separate ways.

Jeongguk would send silly videos of his practice sessions, goofing around with the other members. He’d facetime and text but he always loved to send handwritten letters.

They lived in a box under your bed and contained stories of how hard he was working to become an idol. He always signed off with, "I miss you,” and a few lines of lyrics he’d written.

You didn’t know then how important they would become, the only tangible piece of him you could still hold on to.

Whenever he came back to America you did everything you could to see him. You always found a way to get to the small tour stops whenever they came through. 2015 was the first, then KCon in 2016, but 2017, it was different.

Facetiming you with the news that they were bringing the Wings tour to NY, Chicago and Anaheim, he asked if you’d be part of the dance crew. How could you turn down two weeks with Jungkook the hottest new K-pop Idol? They were getting bigger, more popular and their lives were changing rapidly.

He had strict rules, girls were completely off limits. No talking, no hugging, no smiling at one another, any little thing could be easily misconstrued by the fans. Everything had to be done in secret. Jungkook would sneak you into his hotel room where you would spend your nights together catching up. The boys would bring you in food and cover for him while you both stayed locked away out of sight.

While happy to be with him, you could tell there was an underlying sadness he was holding on to.

"I wish I could go and explore the city with you like we used to," his voice trailed off.

You were laying in each other’s arms cuddling on his bed. Leaning over he kissed the top of your head.

"All I really want is to take you on a proper date."

You snuggled closer into his side as he exhaled deeply, releasing his secret.

"I’ve been waiting so long to become someone, a man worthy of your affection. Now I’m stuck. I have everything I wanted and I’m not allowed to share it with you."

His arms gripped you tighter.

"I’m sorry, this is a terrible confession. I don’t expect you to love me back, not under these circumstances, I just need you to know, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and there won’t be anybody else, ever."

Every bit of his confession, every moment of that last night in the hotel room had stuck with you to this day. The words of a 19 year old boy whose life had become bigger than the feelings of two people.

He'd left in the morning without knowing. You were a coward, too afraid to tell him you loved him too.

LA became your home right after they left Anaheim. Focused on your dancing, if you became good enough, maybe you could join the tour with him.

A letter with a big bouquet of flowers arrived a few weeks later.

"Congratulations on your new house in LA!

I hope that all of you are getting along as roommates, it’s hard living with others sometimes.

Last night I dreamt that I was there with you and all of our friends. We were having a party on the beach and we sat together watching the sunset.

Do you remember after practice when we would skateboard as fast as we could to the ocean so we wouldn’t miss the colors?

Maybe one day my toes can feel the sand there again.

I miss you, I miss me… the me I am when I get to be with you.

We're coming back in October for a few days and I’m hoping I can see you, I’m lonely already.

Jeongguk

~Won’t you please stay in dreams

I can hear the sea from far away

Across the dream, over the bush

Go there where it becomes clear

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

When I’m with you, I’m in utopia~

By the time The AMAs came, the plan had been finalized. You would steal Jungkook away so that you could take him on your first real date.

Having enlisted Namjoon to help, he was your inside man. The boys, happy to help finally get you together, would cover for his whereabouts with management. The day before the awards they were only scheduled for styling, as long as he wasn’t late for the press rounds the next afternoon your plan could work.

It was Namjoon’s job to get him out of the building. Telling him to follow his lead, Joon convinced the managers that Jungkook must have eaten something bad for lunch. Claiming to not feel well, he was whisked away to meet you at the hotel’s back receiving door.

Sitting in the shiny red rented convertible you tossed him a pair of sunglasses. What you wouldn’t give now to see that smile again.

Barely giving him time to get in you’d sped away heading straight for In And Out Burger.

"Kookie, I hope you’re ready for the best day of your life! We’re going to eat until we explode, drink and party at the beach and then, instead of returning you to your fancy 5 star hotel you’re staying the night in my crappy little house with a tiny uncomfortable bed!!"

He laughed, that perfect laugh. It was so pure and honest, thinking about it now made you sad. Was that the last moment he'd gotten to be his true self? Jeongguk the man not Jungkook the personna?

Knowing you only had one day to give him everything, one day to show him you loved him, you tried to make the best of it.

Picking up the food Jungkook held onto the red and white bags in the passenger seat, sneaking his hand in to steal fries when he thought you weren’t looking. If you weren’t sure you were in love with him before you you certainly were now.

Pulling up beside the tree on the beach he was stunned, "Ahhh Jagi, I can’t believe you brought me here."

Happy that it meant as much to him as it did to you, you both sat on the branch and ate. Two blocks from the old studio this used to be your escape. Every break you’d make your way to the tree for some time alone, together.

With the burgers done he turned to you and smiled. It felt like he wanted to say something, but stupidly, you'd cut him short leading him back towards the car.

Making your way through your checklist you brought him back to where you'd first met. The Movement studios students were starstruck when he walked in. After insisting that he teach some choreography, he reluctantly led the class.

Your eyes were glued to him as he moved in front of the mirrors, no longer that awkward teenager but a full grown man mesmerizing you with his every move.

Getting back to the car he stopped you before you reached for the handle. Putting his arms around you he pulled you in close. But again, you resisted him.

"You stink Jungkook, our next stop is the ocean."

You remember pulling away. How stupid you were, you should have held on to him longer. Reaching into the back seat you revealed a pair of swim shorts and a towel. He looked disappointed that you kept interrupting his attempts at intimacy. It broke your heart but you had a plan and limited time to execute it.

The Ocean was chilly but the wind was warm, he came out of the change room with the shorts on but still wearing his shirt.

"Kookie, this isn’t Korea, you don’t have to be so modest here. Plus, you should grab some sun, you may not believe it but when your skin is sunkissed," you grinned, "you look really sexy."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly removed the shirt at your request.

Running into the water you splashed and played and he took great pleasure in picking you up and throwing you as far as he could.

The sun was getting ready to set and you wanted to dry off before the cooler air set in.

Leading him back to the shore you both laid down on the towel. He put his arm around you and you cuddled into his side.

"My god Guk, look at your abs!"

He blushed like crazy as you traced the muscles on his stomach.

"Stop, it tickles," he giggled.

But you didn’t, you kept tickling him until he held you so tight you couldn’t move. He had you pinned, flipping you on your back he shook his wet hair flinging water droplets all over you. Pleased with himself he leaned in closer to you, his eyes asking for permission to kiss you. As the gap between you got narrower you could hear his name being shouted and footsteps running closer. He flopped onto his back and sighed as your roommates and friends piled on top of him.

Eating, drinking and catching up with everyone you watched each other from across the bonfire. Moving from person to person he slowly made his way back to your side.

"Welcome back." Running your hand through the back of his hair, it was now or never.

Pulling him closer your lips finally met in the way they were destined, soft, slow and full of love. His hands instinctively moved to cup your face as the world stopped around you.

"I love you," you whispered.

Nose to nose he smiled at you and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

It didn’t last long, his phone started going off incessantly. The managers knew, you’d been careless, photos and videos of him from the studio had been posted online.

"I’m so sorry Jungkook, I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble."

His eyes turned hungry as he grabbed your hand.

"You promised I wouldn’t be going back to my hotel tonight, let’s get out of here."

If he was going to get in trouble anyway, why stop now?

The drive back to your place was quiet, adrenaline and hormones flowing like electricity through you both. The time for smiling was over as the seriousness of the situation lingered in the air between you.

It wasn’t just being in trouble or being caught, but the fact that you both knew what was going to happen when you stepped into your bedroom. One act that would change everything between you, it held the power to change the dynamic of your relationship forever.

Leading him to your room you closed the door and stood staring at him as he sat on your bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before he spoke.

"I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to be able to make love to you. BUT I also know that when I leave I’m not going to get to see you again for a very long time." His head hung low. "Management is going to do everything possible to keep us apart and that won’t be fair to you. I think that maybe we should just let our happy memories of today be enough, I don’t want you to regret anything. "

Walking closer you stood between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"The only thing I'll regret is never getting to experience all of you. I can’t live not knowing how it feels to be totally yours even if it's only for one night."

He rested his head against your chest, "You’ll always be mine."

His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ran over the soft skin of your stomach. Undoing the button of your jeans he slowly slid them down your legs and you stepped out of them.

Standing up he lifted the thin fabric of your shirt over your head and you stood before him waiting as he took his off too. Unclasping your bra he sighed as he looked at you taking in your shape, his fingertips hovering over your hard nipples.

"I’ve never done this before," he confessed.

"Me either," you whispered. "I've only ever wanted it to be you."

More relaxed he let his mouth start exploring your body. You were goosebumps and shivers beneath him as his tongue found it’s home between your legs.

He was soft and careful, placing his lips over your clit sucking it in delicately until your moans couldn’t be contained any longer. You could feel his eyes burning into you as he watched in awe as his finger slid inside you.

"It feels good Kookie, please…"

You could feel his mouth stopping to smile before he picked up speed. Moving your hips to eagerly meet his mouth you were unravelling quickly.

"The way you taste is better than anything I had imagined."

Devouring you in sessions between his words of adoration you came hard on his tongue.

"I'm really regretting running you all over town today when we could have just been here...doing that.. " You were out of breath.

"I was worried that I wouldn't be any good." He grinned at you pleased with himself.

Moving up to where your head lay on the pillow he pushed the dampened hair off your face, "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"

He placed his forehead against yours.

"I just want you. I need you to know I'm yours, forever.

Rolling a condom on he moved slowly to line himself up with your entrance.

"Tell me if you need me to stop okay?"

He pushed carefully, slowly stretching you around him. Watching intently for discomfort he froze when he saw the tears welling in your eyes.

"Shit, I’m so sorry, let’s stop, I didn’t mean to hurt you." He was apologetic as he thumbed away the tears.

"No," you delicately kissed his lips. "I’m okay… I’m just so happy, so overwhelmed with how much I’m feeling right now."

He smiled down at you, pressing his body closer he gave another push until he was fully inside. Your bodies fell into a beautifully choreographed rhythm until Jungkook was so lost in pleasure he began to move at his own pace. Quicker and deeper he moved until he finally spilled into the condom.

Laying together in euphoria you kissed, and kissed, and kissed until you finally found sleep while wrapped around one other.

Every few hours he’d wake you up. His hands running over your body checking to make sure you weren't just a dream. You’d made love each time, everytime better than the last.

It was 9 am when he caressed you awake once more.

"I have to leave soon. I don’t want to." He spoke in whispers nestled into your neck. "Please tell me to stay."

Your heart broke at his words. "If I ask you to stay, I’m selfish, you’ll always wonder if you made the right decision." The tears came, knowing you had to do what was right. "If I tell you to go, your dreams come true… ” your voice trailed off.

"And I’ll always wonder if I made the right decision,” he finished.

Your phone started ringing and you knew time was up.

It was Joon, "I’m outside. Sorry, I held them off as long as I could. I told them that I’d come get him so you could at least have time to say goodbye."

Your tears fell out in heavy ugly sobs, "Okay, five minutes… and Joon… thanks, I know you’re probably in trouble too."

Hanging up you turned back, Jungkook was already out of bed with his clothes thrown on. He stood with open arms bravely waiting.

"Thank you for yesterday I'll never forget it."

Laying your head against his chest you took a moment to listen to his heartbeat. You could hear him sniffle and knew he was crying too.

You flashed back remembering that night long ago when he came to you homesick, holding you so he could sleep while he tried to hide his tears. There was a knock at the door and Namjoon’s voice broke through the moment.

"We’ve got to go Jungkook."

Stepping away you’d left his shirt soaked in tears, handing him his sweater he pushed it back towards you. "You keep it."

He kissed you one last time before opening the door to reveal Namjoon's weary face. His Hyung put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car.

Turning one last time he looked back, his eyes were filled with tears as he gave a small wave before getting in the back of the big black sedan.

For months you pretended that management was the only thing keeping you apart.

You held on to that silly notion until May when they were coming for the Billboard awards. For weeks leading up you waited for a message, a secret meeting arrangement, but you got nothing. His image was all over the TV and his voice echoed through your empty heart. Then, just like that, it was over and he was gone again.

Now, here you stood in your kitchen, his letter bringing him to the forefront of your mind and opening old wounds.

He was just as sad as you but what could you do?

Picking up a pen you began writing…

I shouldn’t have done it but I read it in your letter

You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better

I wanted to reach out but I never said a thing

You don’t ever have to be stronger than you really are

And honey, you don’t ever have to act cooler than you think you should

You’re brighter than the brightest stars

You’re scared to win, scared to lose

I’ve heard the war was over if you really choose

The one in and around you

You hate the heat, you got the blues

You’re changing like the weather, oh, that’s so like you

I’ll pick you up

I’ll catch you on the flipside

If you come back to California

We’ll do whatever you want, travel wherever, how far

We’ll hit up all the old places

We’ll have a party, we can dance till dawn…

Y/N

October came again and a chill was in the air, the smell of the ocean hit your nose and you stopped to take it in.

Bundled in Jungkook’s hoodie you threw your bag over your shoulder and began your walk to work. You'd gotten lucky, Movement had hired you just as you were about to give up and leave California. Filled with hope and excitement a new intensive program was scheduled to start today and you were going to meet the future superstars of the dance world.

Memories flooded your mind as you made your way through the familiar neighborhood. It still hurt, but things were beginning to feel happy again. Writing the letter had given you closure, he knew how you felt and beyond that there was nothing else you could do.

Opening the heavy door to the studio you caught a familiar reflection moving in the mirror. Chalk marker in hand he was writing something, It couldn’t be?

Hearing the door click back into place he turned to face you.

"Hi."

He walked towards you slowly. Unsure of what your reaction would be, he approached with caution.

"Hi."

You were breathless, in the months of not seeing him he’d only grown more handsome.

"I can’t change what happened… and for the rest of my life I’ll be sorry for all of the time we missed."

He was getting closer.

"But I can’t take another day not knowing if I can fix this… somehow…"

He reached for your hand but you pulled it away. His head fell in disappointment.

"Jungkook, I can’t listen to this… look at me."

Reaching for his chin you pulled his head up until he was facing you again.

"I refuse to listen to you apologize for something that is out of your control. Your life was decided before you met me and I am nothing but grateful that I got to appear in some part of your story."

He tilted his head and pressed a small kiss into the hand that was still holding his chin.

"God I’ve missed you." He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

"How long are you here? I’ve got to teach class.. It’s the first day but I’d love it if we could catch up?"

He laughed at you and your knees buckled at the sound of his happiness.

Taking his chance he pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile forming on his face.

"I’m your private lesson Jagi, I’ve booked you for the next two weeks."

Taking a step back you had to ask, "How Jungkook? What will you be giving up?"

Pulling you back to his embrace he began to dance with you.

"There is no more giving up, on anything. Our contracts were over and I only had one thing I wouldn’t negotiate on, that’s you."

He guided you to look at the mirror.

"I wrote you something."

~Please call my name one more time

I’m standing under the frozen light,

but I’ll walk step by step towards you

Still with you ~

"I promise I’ll never let you go again."

#jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #Jeongguk #jungkook x reader #kookie #nochu #10 years with jungkook #california #lana del rey

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

Erased From the Stars: Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4254

Series Warnings: Toxic Relationships, Cheating, Physical Abuse, Underage Drinking, Drug Use (marijuana), Motor Vehicle Accident, Cursing

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Sex, Cocky Bucky, Nervous Bucky, Bucky Bucky

A/N: I actually have ideas for this story, so I’m cranking it out! I definitely wasn’t expecting to post today, but here we are! This chapter has a lot of dialogue and some of Reader’s thoughts, but not much action, yet. We’re kind of still getting in the roll of things, it still being the first week of college and all that. We do get to meet Bucky, though! Next chapter we’ll meet mostly everyone else, and there will be more things happening other than classes and work. I kinda feel like I’m rushing these first few chapters, so I’m sorry about that, but it’s mostly introductions and setting up the story and I’m the type of person who likes writing the climax and only the climax. So this is steady growth for me.

I do want to point out the series warnings, just in case! I don’t want anyone feeling uncomfortable or being triggered while reading this so please take those seriously as it will happen later on in the story! Thank you!

Once again, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading and please enjoy!

Erased From the Stars Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts’ Masterlist

You woke up in a much better mood on Tuesday, having gotten more sleep than the previous night, especially considering how tired you were when you got home past midnight from working at Shield. You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow.

You took your time getting ready and eating breakfast, saying bye to Christine and the kids, leaving first that time since your Public Speaking class started before Kayla’s preschool did.

Which you were late to.

Of course as soon as you let your guard down, thinking you’d be fine since your first day was fine, you weren’t fine.

Fortunately, you were only a few minutes late and didn’t miss anything, since today would be another day of going over rules and course requirements for the two new classes you had.

Public Speaking was the worst. You’re older - and only - sister, Kimberly, convinced you to take the class after saying it was one of her favorites. Of course, you forgot that you and Kim were very different people. For starting at 9:05, it was too early of a class, especially when the whole point was, you know, public speaking. You hadn’t done anything yet, but one glance at the plans your professor had for the semester and you were dreading it already.

Your next class was a US History lecture, which started fifteen minutes after Public Speaking. You were again late because you severely underestimated how far the buildings were and your professor let you out a bit later than you anticipated.

You practically threw all your stuff into your bag the moment he dismissed you and sprinted out.

Arriving, you tried slipping in as silently as possible, but the door slammed shut, rather loudly, making you cringe. You felt yourself heat up as several pairs of eyes snapped towards you, but luckily the professor, Coulson you remembered, was just gathering papers and hadn’t started yet. Ignoring your peers - none of whom you knew and you weren’t sure if that made it worse or not - you shuffled over to the nearest empty seat a few rows down and to the right. You were surprised and extremely grateful to find it was an aisle seat.

Pulling out your laptop, you huffed when it wouldn’t turn on. You hadn’t used it in your previous class, meaning it was dead before, but you could’ve sworn you plugged it in last night. Whatever. You were fine with pen and paper.

“Aw shit.” You resisted the urge to smack your head on the table as you dug through your bag. Seriously?! You forgot to pack a pen?! That couldn’t have been your only pen, right?!

This is why you were anxious. Next morning, you swore you’d get up early and triple check to make sure you had everything.

You quietly threw your bag to the ground and slumped in your seat, your arms crossed. That meant you couldn’t even doodle! You had to sit there for over an hour and listen to this guy talk about another syllabus. Joy.

Suddenly, something hit you in the back of your head. You rubbed where it hit and looked down at your feet, eyebrows knitting together at the scrunched up ball of paper sitting there. “Psst.” Another hit to the head made you whip around, glaring at the culprit.

“What?” You hissed before faltering. Damn. Now that was one hell of a specimen.

Steel blue eyes crinkled at the corner as pink lips pulled up into an entertained grin, pearly whites on display. Sharp jawline covered with light scruff. Fluffy chestnut hair styled with the perfect amount of gel fell a little past his ears, with a single pesky strand falling in his eyes. The white shirt he was wearing was loose with a low collar, a leather jacket thrown over it. You could see the combat boots from underneath the table. He was a pretty boy, yeah, but you hung out with (*cough cough* dated) enough guys dressed like him in high school to know his game.

“Need a pen?” He offered in a whisper, holding up the said object.

“Uhm…yes?”

He smirked, leaning forwards in his chair, closer to you. “I’ll let you have it on one condition.” You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Just a name, babygirl. Yours, specifically.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing around the room to see if you were disturbing anybody. Not seeing anyone paying attention to you two, you turned back to him. “Y/N.”

“Bucky.” He introduced himself, reaching over to shake your hand. You took it, a bit hesitant, blinking when you felt something fall into your palm once he pulled back. The pen.

“I, uh, thanks.”

He winked at you, leaning back in his chair, hands linked behind his head. “No problem, doll.”

You turned back to the lecture, holding in your scoff at his pet name, hating the fact that it nearly made you smile. He was definitely a fuckboy and you told yourself before college that you wouldn’t play around with them anymore.

So you tuned him out of your mind for the rest of the lecture and, thank God, you had to rush out of class once it ended because you had to work in half an hour, not even letting the blue eyed pretty boy say a word in your direction.

You worked for the rest of the day, Russo’s for lunch, a few hours break to look over school stuff and have dinner with your family, before Shield from 9 to 1. It was fine. Long, but nothing you weren’t used to already. You really enjoyed both your jobs and you got lucky with your bosses.

Joe and Anthony were brothers who took over Russo’s for their parents. The pizzeria had been in their family for generations, and they gladly took on the tradition. They had kids of their own and dealt with their school, so they were very understanding - almost parental - to you.

Phillips had started Shield after retiring from the Army, wanting to settle down with a place to drink, smoke, and play poker with his buddies. He was stern, but that was to be expected. He always told you, “you can take the man out of the Army, but you can’t take the Army out of the man.” Despite him being strict, though, he was reasonable, and had taken a liken to you since the moment you stepped foot in the bar.

And not only did you like your jobs, the money wasn’t too bad either.

But, despite that, you were still human, and having two back-to-back college classes and then working two jobs for over eight hours was draining.

You made sure everything was ready for the next day before you left for Shield, that way you could just get home, change, and sleep. Tuesday might’ve been a rough starting day, but you’d learn for Thursday, and Wednesday’s morning was definitely better.

Peter even texted you his coffee order, telling you he’d probably be late. You chuckled to yourself when you got the text at breakfast. You totally called it.

In his defense, he really was running late, and you could tell just by looking at him. One shoe untied, hair messy like he just rolled out of bed, sweater haphazardly thrown on like it was an afterthought, which it probably was.

“You,” he puffed, sinking into his chair and taking the coffee cup you held out. “Are my savior and I’ll love you until the end of time.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “And you, my friend, are so much more chaotic than I thought. What’d you do? Stay up until three last night?”

He shrugged, shooting you an innocent smile while his cheeks turned red. “I got caught up binge watching Clone Wars.”

“Of course you did. Here’s the notes you missed so far.”

He gave you an adoring smile. “Did I tell you I love you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sap. Hurry and copy them down so I don’t miss anything.”

********************

It was when you were checking your things Wednesday night when you realized you had an extra pen. It took you a moment to remember the blue eyed pretty boy from Coulson’s History lecture, but when you did you groaned.

Your dating record in high school was pretty bad. Not that you would really call it dating. But Whitney was right when she said it was you wanting attention. It wasn’t easy being the middle of seven. But you dealt with it and now that you were across the country from your family - who you loved but Jesus Christ did you need a break - you didn’t need to act out to seek attention.

You were an adult. Meaning you wouldn’t goof off with guys like that anymore. Meaning you didn’t even want to talk to guys like that anymore.

Meaning you were severely regretting taking his stupid pen.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice if you didn’t give it back. Yeah. Maybe you could just ignore him and he won’t even remember that he let you borrow it.

Those were your hopes as you walked into your US History lecture, taking the seat you had on Tuesday.

“On time today? Glad to see we’re learning.” And there go your hopes, crashing straight into the floor, shattering into millions of tiny pieces. Going for ‘not interested’, you quirked an eyebrow, twisting your head as a bag landed on the table next to your open laptop, a body falling into the seat beside you. The leather jacket was replaced with a denim one, his black button up tighter around his chest than Tuesday’s white t-shirt. “And you charged your computer! Very nice, doll.”

You shrugged, going back to your doodling. “Time management’s always been a bit of an issue for me.”

“Ah. Gotchu, gotchu. I’ve got a pal like that too. A couple of them, actually.” He chuckled. “Is that why you high-tailed outta here Tuesday?”

“I’ve got work right after this class.” You answered shortly.

He leaned his elbow on the table, his legs spread as he turned fully to, a slight smirk on his face. “I haven’t seen you ‘round campus before. You new here? A freshman? You don’t look like it.”

You hummed. “Maybe. It’s a big campus.”

“Which you don’t live on.”

Frowning at the question that he said more like a statement, you moved your head back to him. “I don’t?”

He shook his head, setting his cheek in his palm. “Nope. I know everyone who lives on campus.”

A bit distracted due to Professor Coulson just walking in and announcing the lesson for the day, you hummed and shut your notebook and set up a page on your laptop for notes. “Everyone, huh?”

He nodded with a click of his tongue. “I get around.”

There it was. “Oh? A party animal?”

“I wouldn’t say that. My friends and I are just outgoing. We enjoy life.”

“Enjoy life or enjoy getting into girl’s pants?”

He hissed, shaking his hand like he burned it. “Ouch, doll. That stung. For your information, quite a few people in my group are goin’ steady. And we’re of mixed genders and sexualities. It’s not always girls’ pants.”

You raised an eyebrow, turning to him while still trying to pay attention. “For you or your group.”

“Does it matter?” He shrugged. “Would it bother you if I did fuck guys? ‘Cause I have experimented and it’s not half bad.”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’, shaking your head. “You do you, pal. Or…do whoever you want to. Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to-”

He nodded. “Right, right. Yeah. Sorry. Just…listen. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m not gonna force you to do anything, you know. Yeah, sure, I’ve seen a few beds around campus, but I’ve got female friends who I don’t sleep with. What if I just wanna be friends with you, huh doll?”

“Just friends?”

“Yup.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Okay. How many of these so-called female friends you don’t sleep with single?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “The list gets smaller, but yeah.”

“How about single straight female friends?”

He paused at that, eyebrows scrunched up. After a moment you clicked your tongue with a slight smirk, facing your computer and typing the notes Coulson was writing on the projector. “Hold on, hold on. Yes, I’ve got a few of them. Listen, babygirl, you’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be.”

You scoffed. “Don’t call me ‘babygirl’ and we’ll see where that gets you.”

“Okay, okay. That’s fair. What? Don’t you believe that guys and girls can be friends with nothing between ‘em?”

“Yeah, I do. Just not guys like you.”

He frowned, eyes narrowing. “Well that’s not fair. You don’t even know me!”

“Mister Barnes.” Bucky winced at the teacher’s annoyed shout, before throwing Coulson a dashing grin.

“Hey, Phil! How was your summer, man? You still goin’ out with that cellist?”

The professor raised his eyebrows, unamused. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

“Oh yeah! Thanks for the reminder, Phil!” Bucky stood up and cleared his throat. “Yo! First football game of the season is next Friday! It’s gonna be a blast! Watch out for number 41! Handsome devil’s gonna score the winning touchdown! Avengers assemble, am I right?!”

Coulson gave him an unamused look as the room cheered, making you laugh behind your hand. Bucky fell back into his seat, shooting you a wink as Coulson calmed down the room.

“You’re a football player?”

“Fullback, yes ma’am. Co-captain of the team, in fact.” He smugly leaned his seat onto the back two legs, setting his feet up on the desk.

Unbelievable. Why were you always attracted to these idiots? A player in both senses of the word. “There it is.”

He blinked, his chair falling forwards with a ‘thud’ that made Coulson shot him a warning glare. Bucky smiled innocently, before shifting his chair so he was turned towards you again, the smile turning upside down. “There what is?”

“That cocky, conceited air you fill the room with. Attention is what you live for. I should’ve guessed you were a jock too. I’m surprised you’re not wearing a letterman jacket or something just to make sure everyone knows who you are.”

His frown deepened. “Look, doll. I dunno what you think you know about me, or what you’ve heard-”

“I’ve never heard about you before you lent me a pen Tuesday. Which I appreciate and here it is back, by the way. But I know your type. I’ve been down that road. So excuse me for trying not to make the same mistake twice.”

He stared at the pen you set down by his bag, before his gaze flitted back to you, but you wouldn’t meet those pretty eyes of his. “Fine. Sue me for trying to get to know the new girl.”

“This is a mainly freshman class. Half the girls in here are new.”

“Yeah, but they’re chattering away with the posse they’ve already discovered.” He nodded over across the room. Your eyes scanned the lecture hall to find that he was right. Most girls were giggling and whispering to each other, no doubt freshman straight from high school. The others were most likely maturing sophomores. “And, hey, if you want extra reassurance I’m not trying to get you in my bed; I don’t fuck with freshman. Nothing against you or anything, just…straight outta high school and all that? Not really my jam.”

You eyed him, before shrugging and looking down to make sure you got the notes Coulson was starting to talk about. “Yeah, well, too bad I’m not straight out of high school, then.”

He tilted his head, an eyebrow raising in curiosity. “So you’re not a freshman. I didn’t think you were.”

“No, I am. But I took a year break between high school and college. But if you didn’t think I was a freshman, that reassurance doesn’t really work, now does it.” He opened his mouth to defend himself, but you continued, not wanting excuses. “What about you? You’re definitely not a freshman.”

“Nah. I’m a junior. I studied abroad for a semester last year and there were mishaps my freshman year, so I’ve got a few classes to make up. My friend had this class last year, so I just took all his notes. Coulson never changes his lectures. Pretty sure he doesn’t even change the tests.” You hummed, pretending you were barely listening when you really heard every word loud and clear. Bucky huffed, reaching out to grab your wrist gently, making you stop typing and look up to meet his eyes. “Can we start over? Please. I don’t know what type of guys you used to know or whatever and, yeah, I’ll admit I started the conversation like an idiot, but I promise I’m not that bad.”

Pursing your lips, you scanned his features, taking in the pleading eyes and the pouty lips. Clearing your throat, you took your hands off the keyboard, straightened a bit, and turned to him, holding out your hand, your full name falling from your lips.

The beam he gave you had you severely doubting your initial thoughts about him, his larger, calloused hand taking your eagerly. “James Barnes. Everyone calls me Bucky.”

You nodded, before starting to type again. “What are you studying?”

“Mechanical engineering.”

You paused, not expecting that answer. Maybe you were wrong - majorly wrong. “Really?”

“Yeah. I dunno. Technology’s always interested me and I like fixing cars and stuff; I work at an auto shop actually. I dunno what I’m gonna do with it yet, but it feels like a step in the right direction, ya know?”

“I’m afraid not.” You shook your head. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

He chuckled, drumming his fingers against the table. “That’s alright, doll. I don’t think anyone does. They just think they do.”

“That’s…very true, actually.”

He grinned, running a hand through his hair again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I told you: I’m not an idiot all the time. I swear.” That made you laugh.

Bucky talked to you throughout the rest of the class, never going above a whisper as he babbled about his other classes and how one of his friends, Sam, tripped down the stairs that morning. You were almost annoyed at him, but he was a very good conversationalist and he wasn’t distracting you too badly. There weren’t any awkward pauses while he stumbled around for something to talk about and if he wasn’t talking, it was a comfortable silence filled with Coulson’s voice, pen scribbling on paper, and the clicking of computer keys. He never pushed you for responses, either, only asking a couple questions, like where you worked and what other classes you had.

“Sorry if I’m bothering you.” He said a few minutes before class was over. “I’m just bored.”

“No. You’re fine.” Honestly, besides a few flirty comments and that pet name ‘doll’ popping up here and there, he wasn’t as bad as you were thinking.

He went quiet for a moment before clearing his throat, almost nervously. Your forehead creased as you snuck a glance at him. He licked his lips, a hand combing through his locks, scratching the back of his head. You wondered why he did that so often.

“So, uh, there’s this cabin in the woods by the lake about half an hour away…” His eyes widened at the weird look you shot him. “Oh fuck, that sounds so bad. No, no. It’s not - I’m not a serial killer or anything. My friend owns it. Well, technically his dad does, but it’s his. Anyways, he always throws a party the first weekend of a new semester. On Saturday. Noon to midnight. If you’d wanna come.”

You quirked an eyebrow, packing up your stuff as Coulson dismissed class early. “You’re asking me to go to your friend’s cabin in the woods-?”

He shook his head with a little laugh. “It sounds so sketchy. I promise it’s legit, though. Honest. You can ask anyone. It’s Tony Stark’s party. He holds one every-”

“You’re friends with Tony Stark?”

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. We’re in the same circle. I know how it sounds, but-”

“I’m working.” You cut him off, finding it amusing how he rambled. Who knew a fuckboy could get so nervous about asking a girl to a party. “But if you give me the address I’ll see if I can get some time off.”

“That’d be awesome. Yeah, yeah. Here.” He quickly grabbed the post-it note you handed to him and scribbled the address down. “It’d be really cool if you could make it.”

“I’ll try. Cross my heart.” You smiled, taking the paper from him. “I do have to go, though-”

“Oh right. Yeah. Work. I’ll see you this weekend, then. Maybe.” He grinned.

You bit your lip, nodding. “Maybe.”

As he started walking out, you looked down to grab your bag, the pen left on the table catching your attention. “Hey!” You called after him, making him turn around, walking backwards with that grin still on his lips. You lifted the writing utensil to show him. “Your pen!”

He shook his head. “Keep it! I don’t take notes in this class anyways!” He shot you a wink, before spinning on his heel, his hands in his pockets, whistling some random tune, without a care in the world.

**********************

“There she is! So?! How’s school been?! I wanna know!”

You grinned at Whitney as she bounced in, looking at you excitedly while going to wash her hands. “You’re working early today. It’s only 3.”

She shrugged. “They wanted me in before dinner rush tonight. Don’t dodge the question!”

“It’s been fine. I’ve met a couple people, doodled a few things, ignored syllabus talk - the usual.”

She sniggered, moving her eyebrows. “Any cute guys so far?” You thought back to your History lecture and Bucky, who confused the hell out of you. Whitney’s squeal pulled you out of your thoughts. “That’s a yes! Tell me about him immediately!”

“It’s not a ‘yes’. There’s nothing to tell.”

“But he is hot, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips pulled up at the corners. “He’s…very easy on the eyes.”

Whitney gave an excited squeak, quickly drying her hands and putting on gloves before sliding up to you. “So? Tell me all about him.”

“Nothing to tell.”

“Bull.” She called out. “What’s his name?”

You huffed, focusing on the pizza you were making. “Bucky.”

She tried it out on her tongue before nodding. “Cute, cute. How old is he?”

“He’s a junior, so I’m guessing 20. Maybe 21 if his birthday was in the past week.”

Whitney hounded on you for every detail of your conversation, which you told her with some exception, leaving out the pen and some of the random stuff he told you. “So he’s a fuckboy?”

“Oh yeah. No doubt.”

“But he’s a charming fuckboy?”

“Mhmm.”

“And he’s not a dick?”

“So far.”

“So…he’s your type.”

You scoffed, giving her a look. “I don’t have a ‘type’.”

She gave you a bemused expression back. “Honey, it’s not a secret you like the charismatic guys that every girl swoons over. You just don’t swoon over them and that’s what makes you different.”

You scowled. “I don’t swoon over them because they don’t deserve my effort. And no. I don’t have a thing for them. I just…tend to get their attention more than other guys.”

“Because you don’t swoon over them.”

“Whitney-”

“Okay, okay. What happened next?”

You shrugged. “Nothing. He just sorta…talked the entire class. He did invite me to a party on Saturday though-”

“Oh my God! You have to go! College parties are the best! You’ll have so much fun!” She stopped to give you a serious look, pointing a finger towards you. “You’re going, right?”

“I dunno. Maybe. I’ve got to ask Phillips if I can get time off and I-I dunno if I even want to go.”

Whitney groaned, throwing her hands in the air and letting her head fall back. “This is the first party of your college life! There shouldn’t be any doubt!”

“Apparently Tony Stark is the one throwing it-”

“Are you fucking - you can’t not go!”

You snickered, Whitney’s persistence amusing you. “Again. It depends on Phillips. We’ll see. I promise.”

“At least tell me you got this guy’s number.”

“Nope.”

Whitney glared at you. “You are the absolute worst person to try getting drama out of, you know that? You’re not interested at all in this guy?”

You shrugged, turning to throw the pizza in. “Maybe. I wanna try out this whole friend thing first. Tommy’s the first real guy friend I’ve had since middle school and that’s mostly because he’s gay and we barely even talk outside work. I’ve never just…let myself take a break from dating before.”

A sigh came from the other girl, who reluctantly nodded. “That’s good, actually. Take a mental break. I respect that. But please, for the love of God, please try to have fun.”

You smirked, nodding. “I’ve told you, Whit. I know how to have fun. Don’t worry; if I do go to that party, I’ll have enough for both of us.”

“Yes! I have to live college through you now, so it’s your responsibility!”

You mockingly saluted. “I won’t let you down, babe.”

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sizhuyu · 3 years

Note

A'Yuan x fem! Reader

Him and the reader are very close friends and are both top students in the lan clan. However to protect Yuan during an ambush of puppets during a night hunt she ends up getting badly hurt and falls into a coma for a long time while recovering and him taking care of her.

Feel free to make it angsty.

*sniffs* Okay... My tears for this.. I love A-Yuan and how this request will make him care for the reader :’) here’s to your request! இ௰இ

☆*: .｡..｡.:*☆

You and Sizhui were the perfect duo, he was defense and you were offense in any night hunt. You both thought that today’s night hunt will be easy but you were wrong.. There were puppets! “Don’t inhale the poisonous mist Y/N!” Sizhui says while covering his face in just the right time while you inhaled some since you were the closets among the 4 ( Junior quartet UwU ).. “Y/N!!” You were late to cover your face but you turned back and saw a puppet aiming at Sizhui you run as fast as you could and used your self as a shield to protect your friend. “Y-Y/N..” You were bleeding from your shoulder, it was quite deep and a massive amount of blood loss. “What do we do..” Jin Ling says still horrified “We have to treat her! But.. There is no physician around in this area and she will most likely die of blood loss and the mist..” Says Zizhen. Sizhui hugs you closer to him and brings you to a safer place while he rips his sleeve and used it to clean and wound while Jingyi and Jin Ling bring him some water. “What can we expect from the top student! He can do first aid though.” Says Jingyi, Sizhui just laughs a little while he was done treating the wound. “Jingyi I will cook some food when we get back. Tell senior Wei and Hanguang-Jun.” Jingyi replies with a “Mn.” And all hurry up to go to Gusu while Sizhui is carrying you on his arms.

☆*: .｡..｡.:*☆ in Cloud Recesses ☆*: .｡..｡.:*☆

“Hanguang-Jun! Wei-Qianbei!” The 4 scream even if it is prohibited. “Y-Y/N.. She..” As the ONLY girl in the juniors YOU were supposed to be protected but then you were always the one who literally saves their soft behinds from getting whipped or slashed. But this time it was uncalled for.. “Take her inside. We will ask a doctor to treat her wound.” they all waited outside until the doctor went out and told them what they must do “I had already fed her the antidote for the poison, all she needs to do is rest for some days since this type of poison drains spiritual energy and weakens the body.. Assign anybody close to her and whom she trusts to take care of her for a couple of days until she feels better. By then her fever will be gone and by then NO night hunts till you boys are ready to protect a girl from ever having this kind of a serious injury!” the doctor points her finger at the 4 “Yes ma’am.. And thank you.” They reply politely as the doctor packs her stuff and changes your robes. “I changed her robes by now she should be sleeping. A lot of blood was lost so was the spiritual energy.. No need to transfer though, the medicine will make her better.” then she left. Sizhui couldn’t sleep the whole night thinking on what he could’ve done to protect you from being hurt.. He felt guilty.. After a week you still couldn’t move your arm.. You were in his care and often cried tears when he changed your bandages “I-I’m so sorry!!” Sizhui panics since the doctors have a day-off “I-It hurts..” Your voice sounds so.. dry.. “Here drink some tea..” The tea was warm and it soothe you a little but the pain is still there.. He rubs your back and you hug him with your other arm. You hiss slightly when he applied medicine on your wound “It will get better.. Don’t worry Y/N..” Jingyi, Zizhen, and Jin Ling has never seen you shed a tear! Or worse.. Cry.. It was worse when you had to sit up and lie down, so of course every time that happens you cry and no wonder why your eyes are so red and puffy. “We’re sorry Y/N!!” The 3 kneeled in front of you while bowing their heads. “H-hey.. It’s okay.. No need to kneel..” You say while wiping your tears. the cut was quite deep and it has only been a week since the juniors can hear your cries when Sizhui changes your bandages. Wei Wuxian already scolded them and they were punished ( except for Sizhui ) to copy all the 4,019 rules 20 times ( 80,380 rules to copy for each... ) You thought the punishment was too harsh bet nevertheless Lan Qiren instructed you to get better. After a month the pain was unbearable.. the doctor said you are getting better but your hand could barely move.. ( yes time skip ) After 3 months you finally got better but they didn’t know yet of course, they were still copying rules and Sizhui was making medicine for your wound. “Sizhui!!” He looked at you with eyes widening “Y/N! Stay in bed! Your wound-” He was interrupted by the strong hug you gave him ( I assume reader IS a Lan sorry if I am wrong ). He hugs you back and checks your wound “Does it hurt?” There was not much of a scar since the medicine was working well but it took a long time.. But atleast you were better! By now the 3 only copied half of the rules but you persuaded Lan Qiren to lift the punishment and he did “Fine.. But they will protect you since it was their fault too.” They thank you for saving their hands. Wei Wuxian ran over to you and hugged you that you almost fell “Y/N!!!!!! How are you feeling?! Is your wound better?! How is my favorite girl child?!” You laugh “Wait.. pfft.. Girl child? And I feel better.” You reply holding your laugh “GOOD! Looks like my Favorite child took care of you well!” You nod even if you cried many times ( He only saw the shoulder not half the body incase your wondering ) “But you cried many times! Even your eyes are red! Are you SURE?! Or did something happen?~” Wei Wuxian says to you while gripping to his husband “You!-” You were about to hit him but Sizhui hugged you from behind “Y/N..” You blush and say sorry to Wei Wuxian for almost hitting him “Ah, so something DID

happen?” “NO!! Well.. Not like that..” You both are a blushing mess because something did happen ( He confessed but I was lazy to write it i’m sorry! So yall basically BF and GF ) “We are dating now Wei-Qianbei.” Sizhui announces ( oml i’m off topic no? ) and the 4.. Wait.. No.. Sorry 5! Celebrate “You know we can plan a wedding-” You cut him off and “I’m too young!!” Your face was red as a tomato by now and they all laugh and you were still in his comforting arms.. He is definitely gonna think about this often now.

☆*: .｡..｡.:*☆ End since the pain of classes made me rush ☆*: .｡..｡.:*☆

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detroitbydark · 4 years

Text

Every Dog Has His Day

Chapter 3

Characters: Hound/OC

Summary: Good boys, fuck boys, and the things between

Warnings: Aggression toward women.

A/N: does anyone feel like I should put Mando’a translations in at the end? Would it be helpful?

——-

“Good morning GAR. It’s 0400. What does “o” stand for? Well I can think of a few things but let’s go with Oh maker, I’m ready to hit the rack. Any boys in white care to join me?”

Hound would. In a heartbeat. In a Coruscant minute.

Hound is in the gym early. Really early. He’s never needed much sleep to function at his peak but 0400 is stupid o’clock even for him. He passes the time until the mess opens lifting while Grizzer snores near his armor across the room. Right now the massiff is using his rolled up kama as a pillow and Hound wonders idly how hard it’s going to be to clean the drool off. He’s alone with his thoughts and the radio.

He falls into the steady rhythm of sets and reps. He wasn’t a small vod by any means. There’s been a joke in his batch that the settings had malfunctioned on his pod. He was only a half an inch taller, but he was thicker than his batchmates, not commando big but enough to be noticeable in a line up. Lifting weights kept his bulk from atrophying. He didn’t mind the small layer of fluff over his muscles but he wanted them strong and ready for whatever the Grand Army called him to do.

The radio plays quietly over the weight room’s audio channel. Nuna’s smokey voice is a highlight too late to save a very bad week. Two bombings and a half dozen threats (most, copy cats) had kept the Guard on edge and high alert. He and Grizzer had worked them all, tracking and searching wreckage for survivors. Hound glances at his partner. One too many dead bodies had left the massiff feeling dejected and down. Not even his favorite tug toy or a big meaty bantha knuckle has been able to cheer him up. Hound isn’t feeling much better.

He’s not sure what was causing the surge but he knows he’d give just about anything for it to be over with. On top of that (and a far better distraction than the chaos and death of terrorist attacks), there was still the matter of Nuna herself that had him spun out of sorts. They’d had fun at the Fete, even if it had only been a short time. She hadn’t been faking that and he certainly hadn’t. Maybe he’d come on too strong with the call but, honestly, he’d thought it was cute. Maybe he’d embarrassed her?

He wasn’t ready to give up just yet. It was how he’d gotten his name. Tenacious like a hound. The trainers on Kamino had joked that once he was on a trail he wasn’t giving up ‘til he completed his prime objective.

His prime objective now was getting Nuna Skii’s commlink. And a date.

It didn’t matter that Rule had teased him after his on-air brush-off or that Ryk had given him a look that said he didn’t believe he'd had lunch with anybody let alone Nuna Skii. Hound knew though, and he knew that she’d had fun. If she hadn't, why had she smiled so brightly when he’d asked her questions? Why had she braced her hand on his arm and dissolved into laughter when he said something that was, admittedly, not as funny as it sounded in his head?

The barbell comes to rest on the rack with a clatter. Grizzer looks up from his nap, his great tongue licking lazily at his maw.

“Do you think I’m being stupid?”

The massiff stares blankly.

“Well, yeah, but she did seem interested.”

Grizzer rises slowly, stretching with a groan before ambling over to his partner and laying his head in Hound’s lap. He manages to roll onto his back without losing contact. Hound reaches down to scratch his leathery belly.

“Yeah, well, there’s something about her I really like. I think I should try again.”

Grizzer whines.

“But how, you ask? I’m not sure, bud.”

“In bigger news, it’s the end of the week and I think we all deserve a bit of a treat, don’t you?”

Grizzer turns toward Nuna’s voice and lets out a happy sound. Hound laughs.

“No treats before breakfast, Grizz. You know the rules.” The massiff offers his handler a sad pair of eyes and Hound shakes his head. “Not gonna fall for that.”

“Tonight ladies and lads we’re having ladies’ night at 79’s. Come find yourself a battle buddy and if one of you lucky listeners can find me I may have a special surprise just for you!”

Hound listens intently. Ryk and Rule were sure to be down for a night out after the week they’d had. The Commander has been busy keeping his assistant working late so he likely wouldn’t be game - not that Hound could blame him - but Thire might be convinced. Since the scuffle with the 501st boys a few weeks back the buddy system has been in play. The more the merrier as far as he was concerned. Now all he had to do was find a way to talk to her.

———

“If you pull on the skirt one more time, I swear to the maker I will end you.”

Nuna rolls her eyes at Tully’s threat. The skirt was too short and the Pantoran was out of her fekking mind if she thought this wouldn’t be the way the rest of the night played out.

“I dressed you pretty for a reason. Stop trying to ruin it.”

“I look like a cased sausage.” She tries - and fails - to keep the whine from her voice. Tully softens and grips her shoulders gently.

“First off, if that's the case, you are the sexiest sausage I’ve ever seen.” Nuna stifles a laugh behind a pout. “Second,” Nuna winces as her friend punches her in the shoulder, “There’s more where that came from if I hear one more second of negative self talk tonight. Got me?”

“Kriff Tull-“ Nuna rubs at her shoulder. “Fine, I’m the sexiest sausage Coruscant has ever seen. Just don’t hurt me anymore.”

The Pantoran laughs and leans forward, placing a smacking kiss on the shorter woman’s head. “I love you and your issues,” she mumbles.

“Can we just have a drink now?”

79’s is packed. Shebs to gett’se. There’s the usual mix of clones from various divisions and battalions crowded in small groups of grey and white with pops of color signaling who they were to the world. There’s also a large contingent of women - every species, color and shape known to man. Nuna smiles happily as she brings her drink to her lips only to frown a moment later at the deep plum smear of lipstick on the glass.

“No transfer my ass,” she grumbles as she takes another long pull. Tully bought the first round, and whatever it is is sweet on Nuna’s tongue like star cherry candy with the familiar burn of booze behind it. It’s good but if she fills her night with more of them she’ll be nursing a killer hangover come morning. “I’ve got the next round.”

“As if I was going to let you get away without paying your fair share.”

Nuna rolls her eyes as she finishes the last of her drink. She’s already feeling just a little bit more loose and relaxed. Her hips move in a mindless, lazy figure-eight to the driving thud of the bass. Not her favorite, but Nuna loved to dance nearly as much as she loved music. Well maybe not that much, but certainly a close second.

Back home on Irmenu both had been frowned upon by the Priesthood and if they didn’t approve it was almost heretical to go against them. It hadn’t been ‘til she’d been exiled with her parents that she’d heard her first real music - outside of mindless chanting - and her first experience with really letting go and letting her body take over. It was freeing. Liberating. It was at that moment that she’d known she wanted to work around it, to be part of it somehow, for the rest of her life. It had been the driving force for so long that she had a hard time looking outside of it. Maybe that was how she’d gotten to nearly 25 and had nothing but a paycheck and an empty apartment to keep her company. Tully tries to say something over the noise of the speakers.

She had Tully too. A better best friend no girl has ever had.

“Have you finished yours yet?” The Pantoran holds up her glass, shaking the lone ice cubes around for show. Nuna holds hers up to show hers in the same state of emptiness.

“Ready for another?”

“You have to ask? Pony up girl. It’s your turn.”

There was something nice about the anonymity of her radio persona. As she moves through the crowd she doesn’t need to worry about being recognized or stopped by a fan looking for a picture. The one disappointment was that she still had to wait at the bar like everyone else.

She taps on the bar once to get the tender’s attention. The Twi’lek woman gives her a nod and the finger gesture for ‘one moment’ before quickly changing it to ‘two moments.’ Nuna blows a breath from the corner of her mouth. Ok, maybe a little notoriety wouldn’t be so bad once in a while. She’s waiting patiently, hip pressed against the bar, booted foot tapping along to the beat when someone taps her on the shoulder.

“Nuna?” She cringes at the voice, doing her best to press a convincing smile into place as she turns. “Hey, I thought that was you.” She flinches when a long thin finger flicks at one of the curls she’d managed to cultivate in her short hair. It bounces merrily as she looks into the face of the last man she’d hoped to see.

She only has one to go off of but, as far as exes went, Nuna was fairly certain she had one of the worst. All of the things she’d once found incredibly handsome about Alistar S’uun were now… what did Tully refer to him as?… ah yes, smarmy.

She’d been lonely and wholly too innocent to get involved with him when she’d first arrived in the Triple-Zero, but that hadn’t stopped her from losing her heart - and other things - to the arrogant son of a bantha. He’d been all slicked back hair and clothes that screamed money. He’d taken her to nice places, introduced her to important people. She’d thought it was love until she’d walked in on him and his assistant one day when she’d stopped by to bring him lunch.

To say it ended badly was an understatement, but she’d been lucky. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a standard year. Lucky until tonight.

“Alistar,” she greets, tucking her hair back behind her ears, as if it would stop him from touching it if he wanted to. Alistar did what he wanted when he wanted, and you either dealt with it or got out of the way.

“You look great. Lost a few of those troublesome pounds?”

A wave of annoyance washes over her as she glances back over her shoulder and toward the bartender. She just needed her karking drinks so she could make her escape. The Twi’lek is still occupied further down the bar.

“How have you been?” she asks, ignoring his questions and the undertones it entailed.

“Oh you know, doing a bit of this and that. Father is letting me take some of reins on the new acquisitions-“

“That’s lovely, Alistar. I’m very happy for you,” she lies through her teeth. His father was a shipping magnate and nepotism had been good to Alistar.

Nuna glances toward where she’d left Tully and sees a flash of red and white talking to her. Her heart stutters only to realize that it’s not the now somewhat familiar armor Hound wore. The trooper is somewhat smaller, less broad through the middle. The tell-tale snarl is missing from his helmet.

“I hear that little radio show of yours is still doing well.”

Here it comes, she thinks. This was always how it started. Alistar would make some little undermining comment and she’d get upset. Inevitably she’d be crying and he’d tell her she needed to get a sense of humor. Nuna could see it all unfolding before her eyes, but this time she wasn’t going to fall for it.

“I always knew you had a face for radio-” he smiles widely holding his hands up, “Oops! you know what I meant, right Nunz?”

“Yeah, Al, I got you loud and clear.” Her smile is forced and she grits her teeth with such force she’s surprised one doesn’t crack. “So it’s been lovely catching up but I’m going to go find Tull-“ His hand catches her upper arm as she turns to leave. She regrets wearing the sleeveless top Tully had picked out. She doesn’t like the feel of his skin against her own.

“Still friends with the Pant? Maker, you really are desperate aren’t you? Stay and talk for a while. I’m better company.” She shakes off his grip, his smile now beginning to look just as fake as the one she’d been wearing.

She promised herself wasn’t going to take the bait, really she wasn’t, she was better than that… but he’d brought Tully into it.

“She cares about me more than you ever did.” The smile is gone now and Aliatar’s pale brows arch up in surprise at the venom in her voice.

“So are you laying like a cold fish for her to fuck you too? Low standards-“

She turns to move again, puts one foot in front of the other, before he yanks her back. The heel of her boot slips and her stumble only makes his grip tighten. Her arm twists in a way that sends pain shooting like wildfire from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers.

“Don’t you dare walk-“

Nuna had never hurt so much as a fly in her life, but the blinding rage that rises up from her gut does something to her. Before she can even comprehend what she’s doing her balled up fist is connecting solidly with Alistar’s face. He doubles over while Nuna whines, snapping her hand back to her chest before beginning to shake it roughly. The pain she’d felt in her arm was nothing to what her knuckles were feeling now.

“Kriff, Kriff, Kriff,” she grits out, flexing her fingers.

“Why you dumb little nerf cow-“ She glances up to see Alistar take a step toward her. Something akin to fear prickles at the back of her senses. She’d seen that look before in his eyes. It scared her now like it had back then.

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Red and white armor steps into Nunas view. “What seems to be the problem here?” Hound's voice is easy going as his head swings from Nuna to Alistar, who is rubbing his jaw, his other finger jabbing accusingly in Nuna’s direction.

“This little bitch-“

“Alright buddy” Hound holds a hand up calmingly “I’m going to stop you right there. Let me clarify-“ he turns to Nuna fully. Her heart stutters as he pulls the hand she’s cradling close to her chest up for inspection. “What’s going on here, sweetheart?” he asks quietly.

“I was just trying to leave and he grabbed me. It hurt,” she tries to tamp down the tremble in her voice, “I just wanted him to let go.”

Hound gives her an unreadable look. His thumbs stroke gently over her knuckles. Something warm springs to life in her belly that takes the edge off her discomfort.

“Hey, you! Clone,” Alistar’s voice rises up, “I demand this woman be arrested. I’ve been assaulted. You’re in the Guard. Do your job.”

There’s a tic in Hound’s jaw, really the only thing that gives the slightest hint of his annoyance as he turns back to the other man. A small crowd is gathering around them, mostly clones with a few civilians scattered in.

“Ok friend, first it’s Sargeant. Second,” he glances around and Nuna sees familiar colors of clone armor; blues, yellows, and reds surrounding them, “From my vantage point it looked like you were hurting the lady.” The clones around them nod in agreement.

“Oh this is just fracking great!” Alistar laughs, throwing his head back and taking a deep breath before glaring between Hound and Nuna. “You’re fucking her aren’t you?” he spits at Hound before rounding on Nuna, “You’re fucking government property now? That’s low even for you.”

Nuna feels tears welling up. She didn’t want to do anything now but go home and get away from the looks she just knew were coming her way. She glances down at her feet. When she looks up Hound is grabbing Alistar by the shoulders. His movements are quick, efficient, and practiced.

Hound tips Alistar forward just enough to bring an armored knee up into the other man’s unprotected gut. Alistar doubles over with a strangled wheeze, gripping at the bar for support before sinking to his knees. Hound turns his soft eyes to her.

“You’ve never punched someone.” It’s not a question. He takes her hand again, thumb stroking over her tender knuckles. “Wiggle your thumb,” he encourages, offering her a bright smile when she does.

“Ok. Good. It’s not broken,” he announces to himself, “Never wrap your fingers around your thumb. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

Nuna nods mutely.

“So what you want to do is-“ he proceeds to shape her hand into a fist. His big gloved hands completely envelop her smaller one as he tucks her thumb against the outside of her balled fingers. He presses it firmly as if to make the point that this was where it was supposed to be.

From the way he’s acting, she’s more inclined to believe she’s part of one of the ‘girl power’ self defense classes at the community center around the corner from her apartment as opposed to a clone bar. Hound is pleasant- no, he’s nearly perky.

“See how much nicer that looks? Certainly safer for your hand.” Nuna hears a few clones around them hum in agreement. Surreal. “Now, it wasn’t a bad first swing, but you didn’t follow through.”

“Kriffing… seven hells,” Alistar wheezes behind them. Hound makes a sound in his throat to catch her attention from the other man struggling to stand up.

“What you need to do next time is follow through. The target isn’t his jaw. It’s this magic little spot behind his jaw. Do you understand?”

Nuna’s eyes are drawn to Alistar who is rising to full height, murder written in his eyes.

“Hound-“ she tries to warn him but he merrily waves her off.

“Let me show you, ok?” The big man turns without missing a beat and his fist makes its best attempt at going through Alistar’s jaw. Her ex crumples into a heap, platinum hair disheveled, onto the sticky bar floor.

“Kriffing glass jawed pretty boy,” Hound mumbles as he turns back to her just as jovial and happy as he’d been devouring the nerf skewers and talking about Grizzer at the fete.

She hears a small cheer of “Oya!” go through the gathered ranks as a few clones grab the unconscious man by the shoulder and the rest begin to disperse back to their various areas.

“See? Just like that.”

Nuna swallows hard, bites back a nervous smile and finds her voice. “Just like that?”

“Yup.” Hound rocks back on his heels. “So do you wanna come have a drink with me- us?”

He sounds so hopeful, like pulling the whole Jedi Knight in shining armor bit hadn’t won him at least a little favor. She nods and he gestures for her to move ahead of him, leaving the other troopers to see her unconscious ex out the door.

Hound takes up a position behind her, his hand hovering over her hip to guide her toward the table his brothers stood around. Tully is already there with a serious look on her face.

“Are you ok?” She takes Nuna by the shoulders, looks her over.

“I’m good. I promise.”

“Maker I hate that no good piece of bantha spit.” One of the Guard behind her chokes out a laugh. Tully’s eyes fly to Hound, narrowed and assessing. “So this is the guy?”

“I’m the guy? What guy?” He looks at Nuna questioningly. Something mischievous sparkles in his gentle brown eyes.

Nuna feels her cheeks heat up as she bites out her friend's name. Tully ignores her.

“You bought her lunch at the Festival of Life?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you called into the show to ask her on a date?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tully looks to Nuna and then back to Hound. “What’s up with the ma’am?”

Hound rubs at the back of his neck. His brothers snicker in the background. “Courtesy, ma’am?”

“Call me Tully,” she orders shortly, finally relaxing. Hound breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Vod? You gonna introduce us to your little friend?”

#sergeant hound #sergeant hound/oc #the clone wars #hound/nuna #grizzer the massiff

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sliceofplumbobpie · 3 years

Text

Either tonight or tomorrow I’m going to start uploading my LEPacy to my queue so thought I’d best give it a quick introduction. I’m going to be using the rules found here (x) written by @anneliesembsims with a few tweaks by me to suit my playstyle, as well as incorporating the completionist aspect into it. As of right now, it’s a whopping 22 generation challenge so I’m hopefully going to be here for the long haul. I feel this post may get quite long so for more information look under the cut!

I’ve decided that to make the most of each pack I’m going to begin the challenge with all packs deactivated so I can reactive them as I progress. This means I can hopefully get the most out of each pack without having the interference of future released content. I’m also going to be using only a minimal amount of mods, most of which are minor tweaks and/or bug fixes (shoutout to Bienchen and Zero for making the game bloody playable!) Considering I want to experience as much as I possibly can that the game has to offer there are a ton of things I’m going to be tracking as part of the completionist challenge. These include: using all traits, maxing out all skills, completing all aspirations, completing both tracks of all careers, unlocking all reward store rewards, unlocking all club perks, completing all collections, having a sim be all life states, finding all death types and woohoo locations and discovering all secret lots. I’m also going to see how many achievements I can get. I’m going to be tracking my progress here (x) if anybody is interested and I’m happy to supply a blank copy if anyone fancies having a go. I hope you enjoy!

#sims #sims 4 #ts4 #simblr #lepacy #ts4 lepacy #bishoplepacy #bishoplepacygenone #lepacychallenge

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saleintothe90s · 3 years

Text

427. Super Bowl 1991 Commercials (1/27/1991)

(I love that this carefree ad ran in the WE’RE AT WAR issue of my local paper, Daily Press, ten days before the Super Bowl):

I believe my mom would save the papers from the war, and send them to my dad who was out to sea at the time. That’s the only reason why we still have this copy that’s in my collection right now (I took this pic back in 2017 when I re-found it).

So, anyway, just like 30 years ago, Super Bowl 2021 is being held during an uncertain time in the country, and just like in 1991, advertisers were hesitant. Diet Pepsi pulled a “call this number for your chance at a million dollars” ad days before the game, citing “world events”, and the fear of “Disrupting our nation’s ability to communicate” 1:

New York Times on wartime Super Bowl coverage the following day:

Even the commercials were affected by events in the Gulf. In most Super Bowl telecasts, the messages are slick and expensive. This year's batch was somewhat toned down because of the war, most notably the ads of Coke and Pepsi, which abandoned ambitious promotions and made sure the viewer knew it. (And didn't Pepsi have to love that halftime shot of a soldier drinking its product while watching the game in Saudi Arabia?) 2

(source)

Before we get started, I have to mention Whitney Houston’s Star Spangled Banner from that year. Every Monday morning in elementary school, we had to stand for the Star Spangled Banner along with the Pledge of Allegiance. For weeks after the game, we always stood for the Whitney version. I always refer to this Super Bowl as the “Whitney Houston Super Bowl”.

Ok, now to the “subdued” (?) commercials, beginning here:

Look, I know that Jay from the Purple Stuff Podcast said he loved this commercial in the Super Bowl Commercials episode, but I think this Bugle Boy commercial with the GoGos is so lame. I mean, I’m going to say it, were the GoGos still relevant in 1991? Was Bugle Boy clothes still a thing in 1991?

Are picture-in picture TVs still a thing?!

Bud Bowl 3 with Bud Dry this year! I predict Bud Light will win this year.

At 4 minutes in, Advertising History happens. Yes, it’s the Ray Charles Diet Pepsi UH-HUH commercial! I was seven when this aired, so this was one of the first big commercial campaigns I really remembered. I have this strange memory of seeing a TV interview with the Uh-Huh girls (Meilani Paul, Darlene Dillinger and Gretchen Palmer) , and they said they were coming out with an album soon, and little me was like, “I’m going to buy that album”. It never came out.

Ray made an appearance on Pepsi cans in 2018. I never got my hands on the Ray can, I always got Britney or MJ when I got a pack of Diet Pepsi that Summer.

I’ve been meaning to watch the John Goodman critical flop King Ralph for months now.

Is wielding around a giant bottle opener legal at the Bud Bowl?

Part 2 starts with an upset at the Bud Bowl -- Bud Light hid the football in his label? what? So many questions with the commercials this year.

Peter Jennings updates us during the commercial break about the war. The Air Force was using smart bombs to disturb the oil flow into the Gulf, started by the Iraqis. It was 3am and quiet in Saudi Arabia.

Earlier, I mentioned that I was just a little kid when this was going on, and I don’t remember much. However, I do remember thinking “Iraq” was spelled “Arrack”, until I saw the word “Iraq” in a newspaper headline.

Peter will be back at halftime for another update. Yup, you heard me, no halftime show was broadcast that year. If you were at the stadium in Tampa that year you saw the show with the New Kids on the Block and an “all kids Super Bowl”, but if you were watching it on TV, you got the news, and maybe after the premiere of Davis Rules after the game, you saw the show, pretaped, but most people didn’t see the show. There’s a great video by Secret Base about the “worst halftime show ever”. Peter Jennings was “the Beyonce of 1991″. It looks like from Secret Base’s video that we didn’t miss anything. i mean a small bowl-cut haired boy sang “Wind Beneath My Wings”, which I’ve mentioned before, is the saddest song ever:

(that little kid has major hair roots)

The original World Football League only lasted two years. I found an early game on YouTube.

McDonalds thought that neon clad skiers could sell its steak sandwich with onions, mushrooms, and sauce that looks little McRib-y.

Here is a Harlem Globetrotter dancing with Miss Piggy.

Karl Malone had some jazzy LAGears. Did you know that there are some LAGears on the Payless Shoes website?

I have more questions, what is that popping out of that Panasonic TV? A remote control? Way back in the beginning of this website, I asked another question about a Panasonic Commercial that aired this evening.

Bud Bowl update at the end of part 2:

Part 3

Oh, give me a break with this elementary school garbage, Hertz. This is the Super Bowl.

All the goodwill I gave the Ray Charles Diet Pepsi commercial is out the door after hearing Jerry Lewis sing murder the song.

A 40 oz of Budweiser crushed and murdered some Bud Light bottles. Game’s tied.

Part 4

~the new Panasonic portable laptop word processor~ Nope, this wasn’t a computer, it just handled word processing.

Eriq La Salle played an olympian in a Budweiser commercial. ~America~

Ok, Boomer. But seriously, l’m 37, and I still want Reebok Pumps.

Diet Coke dumped their Leslie Nielsen commercial, and instead ran a commercial stating why they didn’t feel right airing it? I don’t think this commercial would hurt anybody’s feelings or offend anybody, Diet Coke. In 1994, The New York Times mentioned it as an ad fail:

In 1991 the Persian Gulf War overshadowed the cola wars, forcing Coca-Cola and Pepsi-Cola to reassess plans to promote contests with humorous commercials.

Coca-Cola went ahead with its contest, but replaced its silly spots, starring Leslie Nielsen as a bumbling police detective, with serious spots, including one announcing a $1 million donation to the U.S.O. There have been few more surreal moments in advertising history than when a somber-voiced announcer in a no-frills Diet Coke commercial asked consumers to play the "Crack the Code for Real Refreshment" game.

Pepsi, by contrast, scrapped its contest but stuck with its funny commercials, featuring Ray Charles warbling "You got the right one baby, uh-huh!" for Diet Pepsi. The result: Diet Pepsi trounced Diet Coke -- and Coca-Cola has yet to return to the Super Bowl. 3

A sense of relief washed over me when I saw my bbys, Jon Lovitz and Dana Carvey in an American Express commercial.

Jon couldn’t shop at Needless Markup.

Budweiser is cheating again.

(part 5)

Bud Light won fair and square!

1. “Pepsi Promotion Fizzles Out.” Broadcasting, January 28, 1991. 26. https://worldradiohistory.com/Archive-BC/BC-1991/BC-1991-01-28.pdf

2. Lapointe, Joe. “SUPER BOWL XXV: TELEVISION; ABC’s Coverage Stays in Perspective.” The New York Times, January 28, 1991, sec. Sports. https://www.nytimes.com/1991/01/28/sports/super-bowl-xxv-television-abc-s-coverage-stays-in-perspective.html.

3. Elliott, Stuart. “Super Triumphs and Super Flops.” The New York Times, January 30, 1994, sec. Business. https://www.nytimes.com/1994/01/30/business/super-triumphs-and-super-flops.html.

#super bowl #superbowl #1991 #persian gulf war #operation desert storm #peter jennings #old commercials #diet coke #diet pepsi #ray charles #randy quaid #bud bowl #jon lovitz #dana carvey #eriq la salle #america

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heliosthegriffin · 3 years

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What to do after death; Vampirism

Preface -

I feel the name says it all.

But, I will elaborate anyhow.

I don’t intend on becoming a Vampire, at all. It’s a raw deal and one-way passage into a hell of my own making.

I suspect should I actively pursue becoming a Vampire I will lose my soul to damnation. Vampire’s are often the results of the foulest of magic and consorting with satanic entities with depraved offerings or just as often the results of those black souled individuals who find happiness in the torment of others. If I am not planning on becoming a Vampire, why I am I making this list?

Easy, it pays to be prepared. Just because I don’t seek undeath doesn’t protect me from being turned against my will. I am of the belief, once you have become a Vampire against your will you die and lose your soul, leaving a husk behind. A husk that has all your memories, personality, and desires, but none of the restraint, humanity or compassion. A sociopath with supernatural powers and a need for life essence of others to maintain my own parasitic existence.

I am making the list to give myself direction after death so as to prevent as much suffering as I can, and if possible, try and help humanity grow.

I can only hope my husk listens to my will.

My family is well armed otherwise, they will do what must be done, as I would do for them.

-----------

The List

-----------

Step One - Leave home, let’s not take any chances hurting my loved ones, or former loved ones, I owe them that much.

a) Construct a note though, tell them all how much they meant to me and why I am leaving, be through and leave nothing out, but don’t tell them where I am headed. Leave the code-word I have with our elder brother so he understands and tell him he’s free to what I leave behind.

b) Make a pack, get one of our knives in there and get a gun. Get some blankets so I can cover-up during the day, actually many blankets and some stones so that they’ll be weighted down. This is a temporary solution however.

c) Empty my bank account as much as possible. Cash and coin will be more beneficial if I’m going off the grid.

d) Leave town.

Step Two - Head north and head to a bigger city

a) Buy a sleeping bag and tent at the closest opportunity.

b) Keep an ear to the ground, find out who can go missing and people would be thankful that their gone. Pick my targets carefully, never more than one person at a time and always when their not expecting it, I’m a predator I should act like it. I might have supernatural powers, but I can’t be prepared for everything and people will know my weakness if I get found out.

c) Aim for the scum of the earth, get rid of them, but not until I have conclusive evidence. But, when I do have it, it’s feeding time, make sure to take their valuables, will need it for future plans.

d) Do that for about a month and move on, can’t stay anywhere for too long. But, before we leave buy a couple books on architecture, vampires, morals and ethics, stone-working, physics, building ect. We’re going to need it.

e) Find out if I can sustain our-self off animal blood.

Step Three - Rinse and Repeat. Go from city to city in our state till I’ve cleaned out what I can. Hopefully I’ll have a duffel-bag of money and valuables, along with those books.

a) Study those books. Find out what kind of vampire I am, make sure I learn about building castles.

b) Take some time to practice building.

c) Practice hunting; Hunt some animals to drink their blood if that helps, practice skinning and chopping up the parts. Donate the meat if I can, or leave at a poor home, they probably won’t be able to afford throwing it away.

d) Learn about interior decoration.

e) Get some better guns, drop off the gun we borrowed from our family along with a chunk of changes, leave them another note that we’re doing fine.

Step Four - Time to move. By the time I’ve hit this step I should have hit all the large towns, which depending we’re counting above or below ten thousand as a big town could take us from anywhere three years to around four if I cut off at nine thousand in population for a big town. It’s hard to say how much money I’ll have at this point, but It must be at least ten thousand dollars at a minimum if I’ve spent all my time eating, murdering, and robbing scum of the earth at least once a month for three to four years.

a) Head north. I need to get to Detroit. That place is so crime ridden no will notice a vampire. If there already vampires there leave, go find another crime-ridden hell-hole. I assume vampires get stronger, or at least craftier with age, I am not fucking with any old monsters.

b) On the way there repeat the Step three on any big cities on the way there, cover my tracks.

c) Make sure to pawn off what I can. Invest in urban camo and a bullet-resistant vest.

d) Keep practicing stone masonry, and improve my gun skills. I don’t need to chase anyone down if they can run, plus I can suck the blood from the wounds, it’ll be like a water fountain.

e) Read that book on physics and other science books, I am playing the long game, look into magic too. Nothing is better than magic or science than knowing the rules to both. Don’t fuck with demon’s though.

Step Five - Settle down for a while and then move again, once I get to my crime-ridden hellhole of my choice take some time to start eliminating the seedy elements. If not, start going for the low hanging fruit, I can’t help everybody, but I can help somebody.

a) Find some random kid and become their guardian, a great way to kill time probably.

ai.) By guardian, I don’t mean parent, I’m talking more guardian spirit. A vampire rasing a child is a recipe for disaster.

aii.) Don’t get too attached though, after their in a good place leave. I’m not doing it for good, I’m doing it to maintain a little humanity.

b) By now I should have enough to fund a new identity and since I now live in a corrupt hell-hole it should be easy to enter the system. If I don’t have enough money, then attain it. Don’t try and intimidate anybody just yet me, I don’t have enough influence yet and it’ll just end up screwing me over.

c) Buy an actually house, fake a life for about ten years, then move to another corrupt hell-hole. Start saving valuable, no, start a war found, we’re going to need it.

Step Six - Start prepping for the End. Humanity has conflict in it’s blood, it’s only a matter of time before we go nuclear. Use the funds we have to buy some land in the mountains. Use the stone masonry skills and architect skills I’ve attained over the last several decades to build a fortified castle with space age materials.

a) Create a underground vault for my mortals.

b) Install anti-air defenses, install ground defences, booby-trap my land.

c) Creating a sustainable area for farming if possible, if not work on making sustainable green houses.

d) Start preserving all of human history, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Movies, games, books, porn, all of it. It needs to be preserves. Put it all in the vault. Record all the science, by hand if neccasary.

e) Start stealing relics so that they can be preserved by me. I am definitely going Trazyn the Infinite.

f) Start recruiting people for my cause, screen each and every one.

g) Put my room at the top of the mountain with as long stair case as possible, If these fuckers want to kill me while I sleep I want them to have leg cramps while they do it. Also put booby trap my coffin room.

Step Seven - Rebuilding Society or keep playing the waiting game. If the world has torn itself apart, I will then do what I feel is the best choice. Create bio-augmented techno-knights, or not.

a) Hopefully decades of research on physics, matter, and engineering will allow me to create powered armor knights, but if not, just keep researching.

b) Make a secret castle deeper into the mountains no one else can reach without significant resources, or supernatural abilities. Start moving my lab, my vault, my copies of human history and media, plus my stored blood there.

c) When I finally succeed leave my first castle to my servants and teach them what I have to offer, leave them the blue prints for becoming techno-knights and leave. I no longer have a place among men or their future, I will merely safeguard the past and record it.

d) Go to my new castle and spend eternity studies reality and building more castles.

-------

Afterword: The probability of me becoming a vampire is close to zero, and the idea of my soul-less husk following is these steps is even less, but should it work it will have been worth it.

#My Stuff #Vampire #After death

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planepair9 · 3 years

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Want to resolve our disputes through mediation: Dhananjay Munde, his former partner tell Bombay HC - The Indian Express

Want to resolve our disputes through mediation: Dhananjay Munde, his former partner tell Bombay HC.

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the-cookie-of-doom · 4 years

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https://princeescaluswords.tumblr.com/post/190234795925/stiles-sterek-and-steter-shippers-we-luv#notes

@princeescaluswords:

Morally gray characters don’t really exist. What Sterek and Steter shippers mean when they say morally gray characters are amoral characters – characters who don’t understand or are completely unconcerned with right and wrong.

You could argue that, for example, Stiles Stilinski is an amoral character. He’s unconcerned with the moral dimensions of many of his actions as long as it protects the people and relationships he values. I think this is most clearly shown by the joke in Illuminated (3x16) where Scott asks Stiles if copying the sheriff’s station’s key cards is worse than stealing them, and his befuddled reply is “It’s smarter.”

I would argue that Derek Hale is a very moral character, even when he’s fucking up big time in Season 2. He’s not abusing those kids for personal pleasure. He’s doing it to salvage his family’s legacy, which he considers the right thing to do and resisting predatory Argents, which is also the right thing to do. He’s still wrong – so wrong that he’s a villain – but when he shouts “I can’t let her live!” he means it, and he’s doing it because he thinks it’s the right thing to do.

I think it’s pretty obvious that Peter Hale is an immoral character. He’s completely motivated by self interest, rage, and greed, but he understands that what he is doing is wrong. If killing his niece was the right thing to do, why did he try to pass it off as an accident or madness? He knows that Scott didn’t take anything from the Hales, that he’s simply jealous and greedy, but he tries to cover it up by nattering on about his family’s legacy. Peter’s different from Stiles in that he has chosen to do the wrong thing to get what he wants.

It’s why I always laugh at Left Hand stories. For all his verbal bullshit, Peter’s actions always and only benefited himself. Killing Laura damaged his family forever. Biting Scott and ravaging Lydia served no one but himself. Where was the Left Hand when they were trying to rescue Erica and Boyd (”You think I really care?”) or when Derek tried to kill Deucalion in the abandoned mall? (It’s always telling that for all his blandly-moral self-righteousness, Scott helps Derek in that fight, while Peter is nowhere to be seen). He argues constantly that Derek should take their familial relationship into account and vanishes when it’s not in his interest to be familial.

The reason they don’t like Scott’s ‘black-and-white world’ or ‘bland morality’ is not because they don’t think it’s effective, it’s because they wanted the white family on top, and Peter Hale provided them ammunition. Scott is moral, but he is hardly black and white. He doesn’t believe in killing people, but he makes exceptions all the time – in Party Guessed (Scott: Ugh, I get it. We can’t save Jackson.), in Fury, in Master Plan, in Frayed, in Lunar Ellipse, in the entirety of 3B, in Muted, and in Monstrous – and that’s not black-and-white morality. Scott expressed dismay when Stiles breaks the rules, but he doesn’t get angry with him.

Lies of Omission is an excellent case because not only did Stiles kill someone, but he killed a victim of the Doctors’ experiments. Scott had watched Tracy murder the people who loved her, and he had heard Corey’s description of Lucas’ change in personality. In addition, Stiles lied to him. He told Scott that he had gotten hurt by the hood of his jeep, when it had been Donovan. Why would you believe someone who lied to you – who’s lied to everyone he’s ever cared about?

Peter Hale (and parts of the fandom) paint Scott as self-righteous because they don’t want to recognize that the people in the show need someone like Scott McCall to fight for their right to life. Imagine if Scott decided that Peter was right, and that the true survivors live in Shades of Gray. What if he decided to protect only his pack and not to care about the rest of the supernaturals of Beacon Hills? What if he decided, after dying at Liam’s and Theo’s hands, that someone else could stop the Beast? That would be the immoral thing to do. That is what Peter would do, and did do.

What fiction writers try to do is paint amorality and immorality as a different kind of morality, and that’s a definist fallacy. They are not alternate versions of the same thing.

It’s most clearly seen in stories where Stiles excoriates Scott for not killing threats, even defeated threats such as Deucalion or Gerard, or for not executing those who hurt or killed their friends and allies, such as Theo or the twins, but Peter is standing next to Stiles whispering “Left Hand, Left Hand” in his ear like a deranged parrot. The inevitable malfunction there is so huge it can be seen from space.

If Scott McCall was going to abandon his moral stance on second chances and the possibilities of forgiveness, if he was going to become a “survivor and live in shades of gray,” if he was going to kill defeated threats and execute killers and villains, why not start with Peter Hale? If he’s no longer concerned with right and wrong, what’s Scott’s motivation for allowing that monster to take one more breath? He wouldn’t have any.

~•~

“Peter Hale and non Scott/Posey fans don’t like Scott McCall and paint him as a self-righteous coward because they don’t want to recognize that the people in the show need someone like Scott to fight for their right to life” Tyler Posey is that you?

Cookie:

“Stiles Stilinski is an amoral character. He’s unconcerned with the moral dimensions of many of his actions as long as it protects the people and relationships he values.”

That’s.... that’s literally what morally gray means.

Morally grey characters do what’s right for the people they love, regardless of the consequences. They will do something Bad if it means getting a good outcome. They are the literally definition of the ends justify the means.

“I think this is most clearly shown by the joke in Illuminated (3x16) where Scott asks Stiles if copying the sheriff’s station’s key cards is worse than stealing them, and his befuddled reply is “It’s smarter.””

This is adorable. PEW is seriously taking things out of context here, isn’t he? I love how he neglects to mention that Stiles copies the key card for Scott. Because Scott wanted to break into the Sheriff’s station to impress the new girl he likes (shocker), and made Stiles is accomplice, because Stiles was the obvious in. That’s not a moral choice, PEW. No one was in danger. They weren’t protecting anybody. They weren’t even protecting Kira, when anybody who saw the picture of her would assume it was a damn Instagram filter!

Also, who the fuck uses “befuddled” anymore? You’re showing your age again, PEW.

#cookie speaks #im not going to address the rest bc its just not worth it #PEW one again demonstrates he does not know what words mean #authority more like audacity #submission

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princeescaluswords · 4 years

Note

Stiles, Sterek and Steter shippers: We luv ~morally gray~ characters and narratives. Not everybody has to like ur fave Scott! Their fanfictions: Anybody that doesn't worship the ground Stiles walks on is unrepentant evil and must be annihilated (seriously, that's literally a ~giveaway~ in so many fics that a character is bad: they dislike Stiles and it's often portrayed as this crime akin to murder)

Morally gray characters don’t really exist. What they mean when they say morally gray characters are amoral characters -- characters who don’t understand or are completely unconcerned with right and wrong.

You could argue that, for example, Stiles Stilinski is an amoral character. He’s unconcerned with the moral dimensions of many of his actions as long as it protects the people and relationships he values. I think this is most clearly shown by the joke in Illuminated (3x16) where Scott asks him if copying the sheriff’s station’s key cards is worse than stealing them, and his befuddled reply is “It’s smarter.”

I would argue that Derek Hale is a very moral character, even when he’s fucking up big time in Season 2. He’s not abusing those kids for personal pleasure. He’s doing it to salvage his family’s legacy, which he considers the right thing to do and resisting predatory Argents, which is also the right thing to do. He’s still wrong -- so wrong that he’s a villain -- but when he shouts “I can’t let her live!” he means it, and he’s doing it because he thinks it’s the right thing to do.

I think it’s pretty obvious that Peter Hale is an immoral character. He’s completely motivated by self interest, rage, and greed, but he understands that what he is doing is wrong. If killing his niece was the right thing to do, why did he try to pass it off as an accident or madness? He knows that Scott didn’t take anything from the Hales, that he’s simply jealous and greedy, but he tries to cover it up by nattering on about his family’s legacy. He’s different from Stiles in that he has chosen to do the wrong thing to get what he wants.

The reason they don’t like Scott’s ‘black-and-white world’ or ‘bland morality’ is not because they don’t think it’s effective, it’s because they wanted the white family on top, and Peter provided them ammunition. Scott is moral, but he is hardly black and white. He doesn’t believe in killing people, but he makes exceptions all the time -- in Party Guessed ( Scott: Ugh, I get it. We can't save Jackson.), in Fury, in Master Plan, in Frayed, in Lunar Ellipse, in the entirety of 3B, in Muted, and in Monstrous -- and that’s not black-and-white morality. He expressed dismay when Stiles breaks the rules, but he doesn’t get angry with him.

Lies of Omission is an excellent case because not only did Stiles kill someone, but he killed a victim of the Doctors’ experiments. Scott had watched Tracy murder the people who loved her, and he had heard Corey’s description of Lucas’ change in personality. In addition, Stiles lied to him. He told Scott that he had gotten hurt by the hood of his jeep, when it had been Donovan. Why would you believe someone who lied to you -- who’s lied to everyone he’s ever cared about?

Peter (and parts of the fandom) paint Scott as self-righteous because they don’t want to recognize that the people in the show need someone like Scott to fight for their right to life. Imagine if Scott decided that Peter was right, and that the true survivors live in Shades of Gray. What if he decided that he couldn’t save Stiles and let the Oni get him? What if he decided to protect only his pack and not to care about the rest of the supernaturals of Beacon Hills? What if he decided, after dying at Liam’s and Theo’s hands, that someone else could stop the Beast? That would be the immoral thing to do. That is what Peter would do, and did do.

What fiction writers try to do is paint amorality and immorality as a different kind of morality, and that’s a definist fallacy. They are not alternate versions of the same thing.

If Scott was going to abandon his moral stance on second chances and the possibilities of forgiveness, if he was going to become a “survivor and live in shades of gray,” if he was going to kill defeated threats and execute killers and villains, why not start with Peter Hale? If he’s no longer concerned with right and wrong, what’s Scott’s motivation for allowing that monster to take one more breath? He wouldn’t have any.

#teen wolf meta #teen wolf fandom problems #scott mccall defense squad

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getitinbusan · 4 years

Text

Jungkook's first love. Angst and smut, inspired by the song California.

It was the second month of not making rent and it was only a matter of time before your roommates would stop exchanging house cleaning duties for money.

Standing in the kitchen feeling stupid, It had taken you way longer than it should have to realize in LA you were nothing. Not pretty enough, rich enough, skinny enough or talented enough.

Gathering up the mail that was strewn across the countertop, you shuffled through to sort priority. Junk mail, bills, personal… one standing out in particular. The penmanship was nice, black ink, unassuming envelope, but it was the stamp that caught your attention, it was sent from Korea.

The top had already been torn, the letter having been read, was cradled back safely inside. Addressed to your roommate a frown crept onto your face, why wouldn’t he write to you?

It was a ridiculously hopeful notion but you widened the envelope and inhaled trying to find his fragrance, something, anything to trigger a happy memory. How many times had you borrowed his sweater just to have his smell on your skin? Cool California nights were the best excuse to wrap yourself in his scent.

You missed him, it had been a year and a half since he’d last come around.

It was too tempting to resist, your fingers pinched the paper inside of the envelope and pulled it free.

I’m feeling low, I don’t know who I am, only who I’m supposed to be.

What would life be like if I had stayed in California? We could all be roommates, hanging out and having fun, going to the beach on weekends.

Does she even think about me?

It sounds greedy that with how much I have right now, it’s not enough. I would give anything to wake up in bed beside her everyday. I want more than anything to be able to talk to her about these things but I can’t. I've made the mistake of trading her for fame and now I’m destined to keep her at an arm’s length so she’ll never know the price I paid.

How does she even see me now? Just an Idol? Has she forgotten the days we spent together?

I’ve been wrestling with myself, whoever that is. I wish I could be the teenage boy from that long ago summer again. I wrote this song thinking about it…

~When I see you smile in the screen

You’re good at everything

You’re just perfect

Feels like I've never been you

Do you even see me?

Do you know who I am?

Or how do I look now?

You don’t like me like that

I want to be your decalcomania~

I’m afraid I may not get back for a while, please write. Your friendship and thoughts of Y/N are the only things that are keeping me tethered to some semblance of reality.

Clutching the letter to your chest, your mind took you back to that day.

“Decalcomania, the art or process of transferring pictures and designs. Making a copy of the original on a different medium"

You’d both laughed at the strange name, reading the description of the art on the museum wall during your visit so long ago.

California had lured you into its promise when you turned 14. Having been accepted to an intensive dance program at The Movement Lifestyle Studio you packed up and headed West for the summer.

It was July and it was hot, the dancers stepping off the bus one at a time took their places in the studio.

Looking around there were so many older kids, you were probably one of the youngest. Calling out names they put you into groups, it appeared to be by age so you made your way to the tiny gathering of four.

Shy introductions were made as one more member was ushered over to where you had congregated. "This is Jungkook.”

He had the cutest smile and barely spoke english but his eyes twinkled like the constellations. Immediately drawn to each other you became fast friends.

Absolutely exhausted at the end of the first few days he’d knocked at your door.

He was homesick and lonely, used to being surrounded by his six members, he couldn’t sleep well without someone beside him. You let him crawl into bed with you, you were 14 and it was innocent.

Jungkook would send silly videos of his practice sessions, goofing around with the other members. He’d facetime and text but he always loved to send handwritten letters.

They lived in a box under your bed and contained stories of how hard he was working to become an idol. He always signed off with, "I miss you" and a few lines of lyrics he’d written.

You didn’t know then how important they would become, the only tangible piece of him you could still hold on to.

Whenever he came back to America you did everything you could to see him. You went to the small tour stops when they came through in 2015, KCon in 2016, but 2017 was different.

Facetiming you with the news that they were bringing the Wings tour to NY, Chicago and Anaheim, he asked if you’d be part of the dance crew. How could you turn down two weeks with Jungkook? They were getting bigger, more popular and their lives were changing rapidly.

Jungkook would sneak you into his hotel room so you could spend your nights catching up. He had strict rules. Girls were not allowed and even though it was just friendship, it could be easily misconstrued by the fans. Everything had to be done in secret. The boys would bring in food and cover for him while you both stayed locked away out of sight.

While happy to be with him, you could tell there was an underlying sadness he was holding on to.

“I wish I could go and explore the city with you like we used to,” his voice trailed off.

You were laying in each other’s arms cuddling on his bed. Leaning over he kissed the top of your head.

“All I really want is to take you on a proper date."

Your head moved on his chest as he inhaled deeply.

"I’ve been waiting so long to become someone, to become a man worthy of your affection. Now I’m stuck, I have everything and I’m not allowed to share it with you.”

His arms gripped you tighter, “I’m sorry, this is a terrible confession. I don’t expect you to love me back, not under these circumstances, I just need you to know, you’re the only girl I’ve ever loved and there won’t be anybody else, ever."

You remembered every word of his confession, every moment of that last night in the hotel room. The words of a 19 year old boy whose life had become bigger than the feelings of two people.

He left in the morning without knowing. You were too afraid to tell him, you loved him too.

LA became home right after the they left Anaheim. Focused on dancing, if you became good enough maybe you could join the tour with him.

A letter with a big bouquet of flowers arrived a few weeks later.

"Congratulations on your new house in LA!

I hope that all of you are getting along as roommates, it’s hard living with others sometimes.

Last night I dreamt that I was there with you and all our friends, we were having a party on the beach and we sat together and watched the sunset.

Remember after practice we would skateboard as fast as we could to the ocean so we wouldn’t miss the colors?

Maybe one day my toes can feel the sand there again.

I miss you, I miss me… the me I am when I get to be with you.

We are coming back in November for a few days and I’m hoping I can see you, I’m lonely already.

Jeongguk

~Won’t you please stay in dreams

I can hear the sea from far away

Across the dream, over the bush

Go there where it becomes clear

Take my hands now

You are the cause of my euphoria

When I’m with you, I’m in utopia~

When The AMAs came, all of your friends in LA were involved with the production. Your roommates helped organize the coup to steal Jungkook away so you could take him on a real date.

Having enlisted Namjoon to help, the boys would cover for his whereabouts. The day before the awards they were only scheduled for styling, as long as he wasn’t late for the press rounds the next afternoon your plan could work.

Sitting in the shiny red rented convertible you tossed him a pair of sunglasses. What you wouldn’t give now to see that smile again.

Barely giving him time to get in you’d sped away heading straight for In And Out Burger.

"Kookie, I hope you're ready for the best day of your life! We’re going to eat until we explode, drink and party at the beach and then, instead of returning you to your fancy 5 star hotel you’re staying the night in my crappy little house with a tiny uncomfortable bed!!”

He laughed, so pure and happy, thinking about it now made you sad. Was that the last time he got to be his true self, Jeongguk the man not Jungkook the personna?

Knowing you only had one day to give him everything, one day to show him you loved him, you tried to make the best of it.

Pulling up beside the tree on the beach he was stunned, “Ahhh Jagi, I can’t believe you brought me here.”

With the burgers done he turned to you and smiled. It felt like he wanted to say something, cutting him short you pulled him up and back towards the car.

Making your way to the Movement studio the students were starstruck when he walked in. After insisting that he teach some choreography, he reluctantly led the class.

Your eyes were glued to him as he moved in front of the mirrors, no longer that awkward teenager but a full grown man mesmerizing you with every move.

Getting back to the car he stopped you before you reached for the handle. Putting his arms around you he pulled you in close, “You stink Jungkook, I think our next stop is the ocean.”

You remember pulling away, how stupid you were, you should have held on to him longer. Reaching into the back seat you revealed a pair of swim shorts and a towel. He looked disappointed that you kept interrupting his attempts at intimacy, but you had a plan and limited time to execute it.

The Ocean was cold but the wind was warm, he came out of the change room with the shorts on but was still wearing his shirt.

“Kookie, this isn’t Korea, you don’t have to be so modest here. Plus, you should grab some sun, you may not believe it but when your skin is sunkissed… you look really good.”

He raised his eyebrows and quickly removed the shirt at your request.

Running into the water you splashed and played and he took great pleasure in picking you up and throwing you as far as he could.

The sun was getting ready to set and you wanted to dry off before the cooler air set in.

Leading him out of the water you both laid down on the towel. He put his arm around you under your neck and you cuddled into his side.

“My god Guk, look at your abs!”

He blushed like crazy as you traced the muscles on his stomach.

“Stop, it tickles,” he giggled.

Eating, drinking and catching up with everyone you watched each other from across the bonfire. Moving from person to person he slowly made his way back to your side.

“Welcome back,” running your hand through the back of his hair, it was now or never.

Pulling him closer your lips finally met in the way they were destined, soft, slow and full of love. His hands instinctively moved to cup your face as the world stopped around you.

“I love you,” you whispered.

Nose to nose he smiled at you and it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

It didn’t last long, his phone started going off incessantly. The managers knew, you'd been careless, photos and videos of him from the studio had been posted online.

“I’m so sorry Jungkook, I didn’t mean for you to get in trouble.”

His eyes turned hungry as he grabbed your hand.

“Let’s get out of here, you promised I wouldn’t be going back to my hotel tonight.”

If he was going to get in trouble anyway, why stop now?

The drive back to your place was quiet, adrenaline and hormones flowing like electricity through you both. The time for smiling was over as the seriousness of the situation hung in the air.

It wasn’t just being in trouble or being caught, but the fact that you both knew what was going to happen when you stepped into your bedroom. One act that would change everything between you, holding the power to change the dynamic of your relationship forever.

Leading him to your room you closed the door and stood staring at him as he sat on your bed. He raked his fingers through his hair before he spoke, “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to be able to make love to you. BUT I also know that when I leave I’m not going to get to see you again for a very long time. Management is going to do everything to keep us apart and that won’t be fair to you. I think that maybe we should just let our happy memories of today be enough, I don’t want you to get hurt."

Walking closer you stood between his legs and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"The only way I can be hurt is if I never get to experience all of you. I can’t live not knowing how it feels to be totally yours if only for the night.”

He rested his head against your chest, “You’ll always be mine.”

His hands traveled to the hem of your shirt and his fingers ran over the soft skin of your stomach. Undoing the button of your jeans he slowly slid them down your legs and you stepped out of them.

“I’ve never done this before,” he confessed.

“Me either,” you whispered, “So, I guess the bar's pretty low.”

His giggles cut the tension before he pulled you on top of him onto the bed. More relaxed he let his mouth start exploring your body. You were goosebumps and shivers beneath him as his tongue found it’s home between your legs.

“It feels good Kookie, please…”

He sighed as his mouth picked up speed and another finger slid in. Moving your hips to meet his mouth you were unravelling quickly.

“The way you taste is better than anything I had imagined.”

Devouring your clit in sessions between his words you came hard on his tongue.

“I made you so wet,” he said, impressed with himself.

Moving up to where your head lay on the pillow he pushed the dampened hair off your face, “Are you ok? Do you need anything?”

He placed his forehead against yours.

“Just you Kookie, I love you so much… I want you so badly.”

Moving slowly he lined himself up with your wet entrance.

“Tell me if you need me to stop okay?”

He pushed slowly and you could feel yourself stretching around him. He watched your face and froze when he saw the tear roll out of the corner of your eye.

“I’m so sorry, let’s stop, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He thumbed away the tear.

“No, baby… I’m okay… I’m just so happy, so overwhelmed with how much I’m feeling right now.”

He smiled down at you, pressing his body closer as he gave another push until he was fully inside. Your bodies fell into a beautifully choreographed rhythm until Jungkook was so lost in pleasure he began to move at his own pace. Quicker and deeper he moved until he finally spilled into the condom.

You kissed, and kissed, and kissed until you fell asleep wrapped around each other.

Every few hours he’d wake you up, checking to make sure it wasn’t a dream, you'd made love each time, everytime better than the last.

It was 9 am when he caressed you awake once more.

“I have to leave soon. I don’t want to,” he spoke nestled into your neck just under your ear, “Please tell me to stay.”

Your heart broke at his words, “If I ask you to stay, I’m selfish, you’ll always wonder if you made the right decision. If I tell you to go, your dreams come true… ” your voice trailed off...

“And I’ll always wonder if I made the right decision,” he finished.

Your phone started ringing and you knew time was up.

It was Joon, “I’m outside, sorry, I held them off as long as I could. I told them I’d come get him so you could at least have time to say goodbye.”

Your tears fell out in heavy ugly sobs, “Okay, five minutes… and Joon… thanks, I know you’re probably in trouble too.”

Hanging up you turned back, Jungkook was already out of bed with his clothes thrown on. He stood with open arms waiting,

"Thank you for yesterday.“

Laying your head against his chest you took a moment to listen to his heartbeat. You could hear him sniffle, and knew he was crying.

"We’ve got to go Jungkook.”

Stepping away you’d left his shirt soaked in tears, handing him his sweater he pushed it back towards you, “You keep it.”

He kissed you one last time and turned the handle opening it to reveal Namjoon. His Hyung put his arm around his shoulder and led him to the car.

Turning one more time his eyes were filled with tears and he gave a small wave before getting in the back of the big black sedan.

For months you pretended that management was the only thing keeping you apart.

You held onto your silly notions until May when they were coming for the Billboard awards. For weeks leading up you waited for a message, a secret meeting arrangement, but you got nothing. His image was all over the TV and his voice echoed through you empty heart and then he was gone again.

Now, here you stood in your kitchen, his letter bringing him to the forefront of your mind, opening old wounds.

He was just as sad as you but what could you do? Picking up a pen you began writing…

I shouldn’t have done it but I read it in your letter

You said to a friend that you wish you were doing better

I wanted to reach out but I never said a thing

You don’t ever have to be stronger than you really are

And honey, you don’t ever have to act cooler than you think you should

You’re brighter than the brightest stars

You’re scared to win, scared to lose

I’ve heard the war was over if you really choose

The one in and around you

You hate the heat, you got the blues

You’re changing like the weather, oh, that’s so like you

I’ll pick you up

I’ll catch you on the flipside

If you come back to California

We’ll do whatever you want, travel wherever, how far

We’ll hit up all the old places

We’ll have a party, we can dance till dawn…

Y/N

October came and a chill was in the air, the smell of winter hit your nose and you stopped to take it in.

Bundled in Jungkook’s hoodie you threw your bag over your shoulder and began your walk to work. Movement had hired you on for a new intensive program and today you were going to meet your students.

So many memories flooded your mind as you made your way through the familiar neighborhood. It still hurt but things were beginning to feel happy again. Writing the letter had given you closure, he knew how you felt and beyond that there was nothing else you could do.

Opening the heavy door to the studio you caught a familiar reflection moving in the mirror writing something on the glass, It couldn’t be?

Hearing the door click back into place he turned to face you,

“Hi.”

He walked towards you slowly, unsure of what your reaction would be, he approached with caution.

“Hi.”

You were breathless, in the months of not seeing him he’d grown more handsome.

“I can’t change what happened… and for the rest of my life I’ll be sorry for all of the time we missed.”

He was getting closer.

“But I can’t take another day not knowing if I can fix this… somehow…”

He reached for your hand but you pulled it away. His head fell in disappointment.

“Jungkook, I can’t listen to this… look at me.”

Reaching for his chin you pulled his head up until he was facing you again.

“I refuse to listen to you apologize for something that was out of your control. Your life was decided before you met me and I can only be grateful that I got to appear in some part of your story.”

He tilted his head and pressed a small kiss into the hand that was still holding his chin.

“God I’ve missed you” he said as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

“How long are you here? I’ve got to teach class.. It’s my first day but I’d love it if we could catch up?”

He laughed at you and your knees buckled at the sound of his happiness.

Taking his chance he pressed his lips to yours and you could feel the smile forming on his face.

“I’m your private lesson Jagi, I’ve booked you for the next two weeks”

Taking a step back you had to ask, “How Jungkook? What will you be giving up?”

Pulling you back to his embrace he began to dance with you.

“There is no more giving up… on anything. Our contracts were over and I only had one thing I wouldn’t negotiate on…that’s you."

Holding you tightly he moved you to look at the mirror.

"I wrote you something”

Please call my name one more time

I’m standing under the frozen light,

but I’ll walk step by step towards you

Still with you

“Y/N, I promise I’ll never let you go again"

#jungkook #jungkook smut #kookie #guk #bts

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illnessandinjury · 5 years

Text

Whumptober Day 24 - Secret Injury

ALRIGHT FUCKERS IT'S LATE BUT IT'S HERE - I wrote half of this while basically high off xanax (it's prescribed, don't come for me), so if it sucks, I blame it on that.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Summary: During a "Survival" exercise, class 1-A is sent into the woods to fend for themselves and make it through the night; it goes well, until it doesn't. The League of Villains drop of a nomu at the campsite, and chaos ensues. Bakugou kind of gets thrown into a tree and gets a bit fucked up, but neglects to mention it until he basically can't hide it any longer. Time line of the story happens before All Might retires. Warnings: Blood, violence, slight emeto. Parings: KiriBaku if you really squint, because fuck you Words: 6,713

Art and fic under the cut!!

Bakugou POV

Goddammit, Bakugou hated the outdoors. He always thought that families who went camping "for fun" were psychopaths and/or masochists. So it explains why the blonde was less than enthused when it was announced that the class would be doing a survival trip in the wilderness. Which, in the first place, didn't make any fucking sense. This wasn't boy scouts - they were all UA students, future heroes. Aizawa made some bullshit excuse that it was going to be a way to test resourcefulness and teamwork.

Everyone else in the class seemed pretty excited, seemed to be viewing it as a vacation, and Bakugou secretly added all their names to the list of "psychopaths and/or masochists". He thought maybe he could tell them he caught a bad bug and had to stay home, but Aizawa told them that the exercise was being scored as a test, and well, goddammit that just ruined that idea. There was no way out of this apparently, so Bakugou held his tongue and retired to his dorm that night to pack his bag - which mind you, there was not much they were allowed to bring. A change of clothes, and that was pretty much it. No cellphones, no electronics or any kind for that matter, they couldn't even bring books for recreation. Wanna brush your teeth in the morning? Too damn bad, use a leaf for all they cared.

The sun had barely risen and they were on their way. The bus ride was long... and fucking loud. He was sharing his seat with Kirishima, although Bakugou didn't really get a say in the matter, the spiky haired bastard just sat down and made himself at home. Mina was leaning over the seat in front of them talking excitedly to Kirishima about all the "cool and fun" things they were gonna do, who was going to build the best shelter, what kind of food they could catch, blah, blah, fucking blah. Bakugou never wished for his phone and earphones more in his life.

By the time they arrived at the site, they had to hike (yes, fucking hike) about a mile to a safe house. Apparently U.A. had a lot of these little buildings placed in the most random places ever. Basically armed with what people would need in case of emergencies. There was rationed food, water, a radio broadcaster, a TV that looked like it was straight from the 1990's, etc. Someone had also taken the time to pack all the class' hero gear into a crate which was being brought in by All Might.

Bakugou watched as Aizawa was desperately trying to get a hold of everyone's attention, before President Mic basically said, "Nah, I got this", and screamed at the top of his lungs which basically gave everyone a heart attack, but successfully got them to be quiet. Aizawa rubbed at his ears, "Yeah, okay, thanks President Mic. Anyway, students, here we start our Survival Test. Let's get the rules out of the way first. Rule number one, absolutely no use of any of your quirks. Two, if I find out that one of you managed to sneak in something on the "do not bring" list, you will be given a failing grade. And three, everyone must make their own shelter; no shaking up. Now, there will be three main areas set up, and you will all be divided between those three. I will be accompanying one-"

"And me one!" President Mic boomed. Bakugou prayed to any god that was listening that he wouldn't get stuck at that one.

"And me, of course!" All Might stood heroically.

Aizawa continues, "Yes, anyway, there's 20 of you in total so there will be one group of six, and two group of seven. These goes as follows; My group will be the one with six. I will have Aoyama, Asui, Iida, Koda, Shoji, and Tokoyami."

Present Mic took the stand next, "And I will have Mineta, Sero, Todoroki, Sato, Kaminari, Ojiro, and Mina."

Kirishima elbowed Bakugou and whispered to him, "That means we're together with All Might!" Bakugou inwardly groaned, not just that, but he was about to be paired up with fucking Deku of all people.

"And of course that means," All Might spoke next, "I will have Uraraka, Kirishima, Yaoyorozu, Midoriya, Hagekure, Bakugou, and Jiro."

There was a little bit of mixed groaning from those who got split up from their friends, and the gleeful cheering of those who got paired with theirs. Aizawa spoke up again, "It was all selected randomly, so if you have complaints, I really don't care. Get with your team leader, pay attention and take the lesson seriously, and we'll meet up tomorrow afternoon."

Clicking his tongue, annoyed by the whole situation, Bakugou followed Kirishima to meet up with everyone else around All Might, taking precaution to stay as far away from Deku as possible; this trip was already shitty enough, he really didn't need that fucking nerd ruining it anymore.

"Alright team!" All Might started, and then handed everyone a paper with instructions, tips, and a small map on it, "We have many tasks to do today, and not much time to do them! Everything has to be completed by nightfall or you will either wake up hungry, or be forced to sleep on nothing but dirt. I will be supervising you - after all this is for a grade. If I see someone slacking off and not pulling their weight, their grade will be docked. But," He paused, "That doesn't mean we can't have fun while we're at it!"

'Oh, gag me with a fucking spoon', Bakugou thought to himself. Round face and Deku were looking at the map and excitedly pointing things out to each other, Hagekure was jumping up and down in thrill, and Kirishima was already talking to Jiro about how they were gonna start a forest fire, which... fucking hell, let's hope not. "Alright gang, let's head out!"

They had all fucking neglected to mention the fact that the camp sites were an almost a seven mile hike away from the safe house, and by the time they got there, Bakugou was already ready to call it quits. If the summer heat paired with the hiking wasn't going to kill him, it was going to be the dozens of bug bites he's probably already gotten.

With a small huddle and deviation of tasks it seemed that Bakugou was stuck with Jiro and Kirishima to collect enough fire wood to last the night, set up animal snares (which damn, that seemed a little brutal for a school trip), finding a good source of reliable water, and of course, building their own shelter.

It was tiring, boring, irritating, and by the end of it all Bakugou's body was already covered in a light sun burn, countless thorn bush scratches, and somehow had gotten burs in his hair. They had successfully caught two rabbits, while Yaoyorozu and Hagekure had caught enough fish for them to all have at least one - so they were good on food although they were all a little grossed out by the aspect of the whole wilderness to table dining.

Bakugou set to building his shelter pretty fast but honestly had no fucking idea where to even start. There were some tips on the paper they were given, but honestly he was just stealing looks at the one Yaoyorozu was building and trying to copy it as much as possible, and pretty much failing miserably. Well... it was standing and it was big enough for him to fit under if he curled up, so Bakugou decided to count that as a win.

Night fell pretty quickly, and it was time to get the fire started and make dinner. Starting a fire was not the easiest task in the world, and after about ten minutes of a bunch of his useless classmates trying and failing to get a good spark, Bakugou just wanted to run over there and set the whole thing ablaze - but noooo, that was against the rules. After what seemed like fucking forever, the kindling caught and they had enough fire to spit roast their catches.

Turns out - unseasoned fish and rabbit? Not that fucking good. Like... at all. But with all the energy that Bakugou had spent that day completing dumb tasks out in this godforsaken forest, he didn't complain much; and just chased down the bland food with the water he collected from a nearby river earlier.

Everyone retired for the night (can he just mention the absolute fuckery it was that All Might got to bring a whole pop up tent) and Bakugou celebrated how close they were to being done with this bullshit. Wake up in the morning, tear everything down, clean up, and head back home. Hallelujah.

Of course though - things can't go that smoothly for anybody in this fucking school.

Bakugou was roused from his not very restful slumber, I mean how nice can you sleep when you're laying on a bunch of dirt and twigs, by a scream coming that ran out through air; Hagakure. At first he thought the girl had woken up to a bug crawling on her, and just turned over and tried to go back to sleep - but that wasn't the case. He heard something he would never be able to forget his whole life, a sound that was introduced to him when they first met, the heart-dropping sadistic laugh of Shigaraki.

The League of Villains.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. Bakugou jumped up from his shelter, hands immediately sparking up, looking the threat - but it was dark. The campfire had almost died down and he could barely make out some shadows, which he didn't know who was his classmates, and who were villains. By this time it seemed everyone had jolted from their sleep, mumbling to each other about what was going on, who was screaming, was it a false alarm. Maybe it was? Maybe it was a training exercise and that was the real reason the were brought out here?

Before Bakugou's brain could land on a concrete answer, there was suddenly a huge hand on his shoulder, gripping it painfully before violently flinging him backwards. He helplessly flew through the air until his body collided with a nearby tree, knocking the air from his lungs, and Bakugou swore he could hear something inside him crack. Consciousness must have left Bakugou for a second, but when he opened his eyes again things were still just as dark, and everyone was still engulfed in a confused panic.

His mouth tasted like copper, and he was briefly aware of a warm liquid lazily sliding down his forehead. Then, like a sick, sadistic light switch got flipped on, agony ripped through the blonde. Everything hurt, but the pain seemed to blossom from his left shoulder and side, and then jolt like hot electricity throughout the rest of his body. Turning his head to the side, Bakugou sit the copper from his mouth, and wiped a mixture of blood and sweat from his brow. He sat there for a while, just trying to regain his bearings, breathe through the pain. If Bakugou were a betting man, he'd guess he cracked a few of his ribs, but he couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with the shoulder; it hurt like hell and felt... just wrong. Goddammit, every breath was like getting a knife jabbed into his side.

Another scream rang out from one his classmates, and there was suddenly a bright flash of what looked like lightening with All Might's voice ringing out an attack's name. It was quick, but it the moment of light Bakugou could see a little bit of what was going on - All Might charging at a huge, muscled humanoid; a nomu. That must have been what grabbed him and flung him around like a good damn yo-yo.

He would never admit it, but he let out a breath of relief when he saw that the rest of his classmates seemed fine, just shaken up and starting to scramble back from the direction that All Might had projected himself towards. In the bright flash there were also no signs of other villains. It was almost like Shigaraki dropped off the nomu and just dipped out - making his head spin of where he had gone and what he was doing. He thought of the other campsites.

"Bakugou?" Kirishima's voice spoke up, soft and shaking, "Where are you?"

Trying to stand up was easier said than done; his whole body protested. As soon as any pressure was put on his left arm to try and push himself up, Bakugou's vision went white with blinding pain and he had to bite his cheek to keep from yelling out. Okay, right arm it was. Gingerly, he was able to pull himself into a somewhat steady standing position and walk, well more like limp, his way over to Kirishima. He gingerly placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, feeling Kirishima jump under it, "It's me, shitty hair."

Blindly, Bakugou reached around before his hand landed on one of the other classmate's shelter before he quickly lit it ablaze to get a better picture of what was going on, "There we fucking go."

Like he had seen earlier, all of the other classmates were fine and accounted for. Following the noises of the fight, Bakugou was able to get a clear look at All Might; hand to hand with the nomu and trying to push him backwards. The first idea that popped into Bakugou's mind was to help his teacher out and join the fight, but with his busted arm and ribs, he didn't think he'd be much use. Of course the most competent one here would get put on a fucking crutch.

Suddenly All Might spoke up, his voice booming through the stagnant night air and echoing off the trees, "Listen, students, I need you all to hurry back to the safe house. The other teachers will tell the rest of the students to do the same. Once you're-" He was cut off by the nomu taking a swing at him which he successfully dodged and was able to knock the creature back a bit, "Once you're there, radio the school. Tell them what's going on. Fight only if absolutely necessary, and stick together."

Running was the absolute last thing Bakugou wanted to do - that was such a weak thing to do, so cowardly. He wanted to yell back at All Might and tell him that wasn't going to fucking happen, but the nomu jumped on him again and they locked up together again, "Go!"

Yaoyorozu ran up to Bakugou and the other students who were now standing closely together under the flames that he had created earlier, "I memorized the map from the paper, let's get the hell out of here," she took note of the worry written on some of the other student's faces, "All Might can handle it. He's counting on us to do our part in this situation too."

Okay, yeah, easier said than done, Bakugou thought. Just a moment ago he was wanting to rush in to join the fight, but his adrenaline was leaving his bloodstream slowly and the pain was getting more and more nagging as time went on. He let out an aggravated groan, "Fine, let's fucking go. Yaoyorozu, lead the way."

She nodded in confirmation and without hesitation materialized a flashlight before taking off, the rest of the class following behind her.

Running was... uncomfortable, to say the least. Every time one of Bakugou's feet connected with the ground, a spike of pain shot through him like a bullet, but at this point the only thing he could do about it was grin and bear it. After the noises of fighting from All Might and the nomu slowly faded behind them, Deku spoke up, "Everyone okay?"

Everyone rang in with a hushed, "fine," or, "all good here," and Kirishima's personal, "scared shitless, but other wise okay!" Bakugou spoke up as well, "We're all fine, so shut the fuck up, and focus on not running into a tree, shitty nerd." Bakugou was anything but fine, but there was no way in hell he was going to admit that; it would also cause everyone else to give him their needless pity instead of focusing on the task at hand. Best to keep it under wraps for now, but goddammit did it fucking hurt. Every quick dash around an obstacle twisted his body in a way where he swear he could feel the broken bone fragments rub together and his vision would go white for a moment, but he continued onward.

Bakugou was lagging behind, taking up the rear with Kirishima an arms length away from him, so nobody could see him cradle his injured arm protectively to his body, trying to keep it from being jostled too much. If he was being honest though, there was a cold numbness that was starting to seep into Bakugou's left hand, starting in his fingers and slowly working it's way up - that couldn't be good; although part of him was glad because it made it a little less painful.

Suddenly, a horrible familiar raspy voice sounded from behind them, "And where do you all thing you're going?"

Shigaraki. Fuck.

They all whipped around, the flash light illuminating him a bit, his disgustingly pale face, as he reached a hand Bakugou. Shit, if that fucker touched him, Bakugou was going to have a lot more to deal with on his plate, so with quick thinking he blasted himself backwards, "Fuck off!"

Without warning, the light was extinguished and Yaoyorozu's voice rang out, "Scatter!"

Before Bakugou could think about which direction to run in, a rough calloused hand grabbed hold of his left wrist and pulled right. It took everything in Bakugou's will to not let out a shriek of agony, gritting his teeth so hard he tasted blood. The owner of the hand on him spoke up, it was Kirishima, "I have no idea where I'm going!"

The way Kirishima was jostling his arm was almost unbearable, "Fucking let go of me, shitty hair!"

Kirishima did as he was told, but complained, "Fine, but stay close, I don't want to lose you in here!"

"I can handle my damn self, I'm not incompetent like the rest of you fuckers," Bakugou bit back, "Worry about yourself!" The moon had finally moved directly over the woods, and while the line of vision was still not the best, it was at least a little easier to see the basics of what was going on around them. Bakugou glanced behind him, "That fucker isn't following us."

Kirishima made an affirmative noise, "We should find a place to hide for a bit to collect our thoughts and come up with a plan."

Stopping didn't really seem like the best choice, but at this point, Bakugou would take any chance to sit down and try and even out his breathing. The harsh gasps that came from running were like shattered glass running through his blood, "Fine." The pain that enveloped Bakugou unfortunately wasn't the type you could get used to, instead it was the kind that was growing in intensity - aside from his arm which was numb almost all the way up to his elbow at this point. The pain was making Bakugou's mind hazy, he wasn't going to be able to keep a clear head much longer, god he just... just wanted to sit down.

"There!" Kirishima pointed at a large hollow tree that was a couple yards ahead of them. Bakugou followed and they finally collapsed into the shadow's of the tree's cavernous opening. The boy's labored breathing echoed off the wood walls that encompassed them, working their way up the trunk. Kirishima broke the silence first, "O-Okay, so we ran right, right?" he breathed through gasps of air, and Bakugou gave him a hum of approval, "So if Yaoyorozu was going to the safe house in a straight shot, we just need to run forwards, but diagonally left."

Bakugou didn't really think it was all that simple, but it was the best shot they had at this point, "Sounds good enough, shitty hair."

The two rested there a bit longer taking a moment to catch their breath and recharge their stamina a bit, but this time Bakugou's adrenaline was hanging on by a tiny thread at this point. A wave of pain rushed over him, eyes going wide, biting his cheek until blood filled his mouth and slammed his head into the hollow wood behind him; anything to take the edge off the torment that was his ribs and shoulder.

"You good over there?"

"Just frustrated," not technically a lie.

Bakugou could feel Kirishima's skepticism and hesitance, "Alright, well... you ready to head back out there and run for our lives?"

No, "Yep, let's go."

Getting back up again proved to be almost as challenging as it was the first time Bakugou pushed himself up and away from the fucking tree he got slammed into. With only his right arm working properly, he used the tree's trunk to help himself up onto unsteady legs. He was being slow, Bakugou knew, but if he moved too fast he would be engulfed in pain, but if he was too slow he was going to compromise both his and Shitty Hair's safety. They had to keep moving, because holy fuck they were being chased by maniacs; actual psychopaths, and not just the "I like camping" ones.

The two took off running again; it felt like Bakugou had been doing this for hours, he was exhausted. His body was crashing, fast. A rouge tree branch wacked him painfully, catching him right in his injured shoulder and he couldn't bite back the gasp of pain that left his lips fast enough.

"Yeah, man, these thorn bushes are killer on the legs," Kirishima let out a weakhearted chuckle.

Yeah, thorn bushes. Honestly the little pricks cutting up his legs was all but ignored compared to the agony that was radiating through his side. God, he was so fucking weak. Bakugou hated feeling inferior, and that exact feeling was starting to overwhelm him as he realized he was lagging behind, putting more and more distance between him and Kirishima. In a last ditch effort, Bakugou tried pushing more power into his legs, but it didn't too much. The exhaustion, the pain, the... everything was taking over. It was torture.

Up ahead, Kirishima cursed, "Fuck!"

Panic seized Bakugou's chest, "What? What's wrong?" Kirishima had stopped running, and Bakugou caught up with him before he saw it - a small cliff standing right in front of them, easily seven feet tall, "Ah, fuck indeed." Bakugou cast a glance to the left, then to his right, but it seemed that the cliff stretched on for quite some distance; Kirishima seemed to notice this as well. If the boys wanted to keep their straight shot, they were going to have to find a way over it.

"Fuck!" Kirishima cursed again, "Okay, Bakugou, blast yourself up there, and then help pull me up. There's nothing my quirk can do to help me here."

The thought of having to pull up his lug of a friend was enough to cause him to pale, but Bakugou didn't see any other option at this point. Fuck! "Fine, let's get this over with." Bakugou sent off little pops in his hands, gearing up for the bigger blast that followed shortly after. Shit! He overshot it! Good news, Bakugou cleared the cliff just fine - bad news, the ground was rushing up to him pretty fast. With quick thinking, he let off another small explosion to cushion the fall, which worked as good as it could have in theory. Bakugou landed on his back, the breath knocked out of his lungs and for a split second he thought he was going to pass out again. FUCK, it hurt. Taking a moment to try and catch his breath and wait for the agony to slowly ebb away, Bakugou stared up at this sky, not knowing if the stars he was seeing were real or just the exhaustion and dizziness taking him over.

"Bakugou?" Kirishima whispered harshly, "Everything okay up there? You need to pull me up."

"I know!" Bakugou barked, "Shut the fuck up, just give me a second."

Bakugou stole a breath and steeled himself. He could do this. All he had to do was pull Kirishima up. Bakugou wasn't weak, he could do this dammit! Bakugou leaned over the side of the cliff, his arms dangling down for Kirishima to grab, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his ribs as they dug into the ground below him. Kirishima grabbed his hands and Bakugou pulled up and-

No, nope, he couldn't do this. There was no fucking way. Bakugou let go immediately, letting out a strangled cry, cradling his left arm in his lap, eyes pickling with forced tears. He barely registered the sound of Kirishima landing harshly back on the ground below him, but Bakugou could care less. At this point it took everything in Bakugou to keep his vision stable and clear as white, hot bolts of lightning jolted outwards across his body from his shoulder.

"-kugou!" Kirishima was yelling up at him, "What happened? Are you okay? Bakugou, answer me!"

"Shut up, shitty hair! I'm fucking fine, just..," Okay, how was Bakugou going to explain this, did he tell the truth? No, he could just use his right arm to pull him up. He reached back down and Kirishima hesitantly took his arm.

"You got me this time?"

"Yes, so shut the fuck up, and get the hell up here already!"

Kirishima used Bakugou's strength and the wall as he repelled his way up the cliff. It didn't hurt as much as the first attempt, but this one was much harder on his ribs. The muscles in his sides contracted around the broken bones, using whatever strength Bakugou had left to pull up his friend. Afer a lot of discomfort and curses, Kirishima was finally up, already on his feet. Bakugou stayed on the ground, rolling again onto his back and gasping up at the sky. Reaching his hand out for Bakugou, Kirishima said, "Alright let's go." Already? "Just let me fucking breathe for a second, fuck." Bakugou know he didn't have time to just sit around feeling sorry for himself, "Please... Just a second."

Please? Really? Since when did Bakugou let that word slip past his lips.

"So, uh," Kirishima spoke up tentatively, "What's wrong with your arm?" Bakugou cursed at himself. Kirishima may not have the best grades, but he was pretty attentive to details, "Nothing, asshole. I'm fine."

"I'm not blind, Bakugou," He crouched down next to Bakugou's flat out body, "It's your left arm, right? You tried pulling me up, yelled, and then used just your right. Did you hurt it?"

Bakugou wanted to scream at him, tell him to keep his shitty opinions to himself, but he could only let out a strained, "No." Kirishima snapped, yelling in a hushed whisper, "Just be truthful with me for once, goddammit! For once. Shove your damn pride out of the way and tell me what's wrong!"

"I don't know what's wrong with it, okay?" Bakugou bit back, "It just hurts, now fuck off and let's go." Which was the last thing he wanted to do, but if it got him away from this conversation, Bakugou would gladly push onward.

"When did it start hurting?" His friend pressed him, "Did you run into a tree or something?"

Before Bakugou could stop himself he was blurting out the truth, "More like thrown into one."

"What?" Kirishima's voice raised before he quieted himself, "When the hell did that happen?"

He shouldn't have said anything. Bakugou should have just kept his damn mouth shut, but there was no hiding anything anymore. The moment Kirishima got a whiff of something even the smallest bit off, he'd keep pressing and pressing the issue until the person facing him finally caved, "Back at the campsite. That fucking nomu bastard threw me; hard. Fucked up my arm."

Kirishima was silent for a moment and Bakugou could tell he was seething, "You should have told me right away, asshole! Are you at least okay besides the arm?"

Bakugou remained silent. Why did he feel guilty? It wasn't his fault he got injured. It wasn't his fucking fault.

"I'll take that as a no then," Kirishima responded to his lack of answer, "What else is wrong?"

Bakugou opened his mouth to answer before shutting it again. He didn't want to admit anything. He didn't want to tell Kirishima. Pain was a sign of weakness. Injuries were weaknesses, "I, uh," Bakugou's voice faltered as it broke the silence, "I think some of my ribs are broken."

Suddenly, a harsh thud came from the ground right beside Bakugou's head, and for a second his heart seized thinking that the enemies found them, but realized that Kirishima had punched the dirt, "Dammit, Bakugou! Why the fuck didn't you say anything?"

Guilt. It ran through him rampantly, "It wasn't the time. It still isn't. All Might said to get to the safe house. I would have just... slowed everyone down." God, why the fuck did he feel like crying. Why was he so fucking weak?

When Kirishima spoke again, his voice was softer, "You arm. Is it broken too? Or?"

Bakugou let out a weak laugh that sounded more like a groan, "I don't know. It doesn't feel like it is. It just feels wrong," he closed his eyes tightly, "Hurts. The shoulder anyway, the arm itself it just... numb at this point..,”

Kirishima took on a more serious tone, "Let me take a look at it. I might know what's wrong," he started grabbing a few sticks that laid nearby, "I did some brief medical training during my internship. It's risky, but light these on fire real quick so I can get a better look."

Doing what he was told, Bakugou put his hand over the twigs and with nothing more than a small pop, they were ablaze. Kirishima got a good look at his face, and his smile fell, "Damn, you look like shit, man."

"Shut the fuck up, shitty hair."

Kirishima started working the sleeve of Bakugou's shirt up to get a better look at his shoulder. Bakugou bit his lip, trying to keep any embarrassing noises at bay as Kirishima laid his hand on the injured joint; although he wasn't all that successful as a few pained whimpers got through. As soon as they left his throat, Bakugou wanted to punch himself directly in his fucking face.

"Shit."

"What?"

Kirishima stomped out the fire desperatley, "I was right. Your shoulder is dislocated. It needs to be put back in place. Like, now."

"Fuck no," Bakugou paled, "That's not fucking happening."

"Do you want to keep your arm or not?" Kirishima asked him harshly, but it was more deserpate than bitter, "Numbness is a bad sign, so if you want the nerves to keep dying, you can continue being stubborn - or you can let me put it back in place and hopefully be able to use your arm in the future."

Fuck. Fuck! Bakugou sighed in defeat, "Okay. Fine. Just get it over with."

Kirishima sat him up a bit, one hardened hand was placed behind the shoulder, and the other rested painfully on the out of place bone, "It's easier than you see in movies, I promise. But... it's going to hurt. You have to try and keep quiet. I know it's easier said than done, but if the villains find us like this while you're injured..." He trailed off.

Bakugou knew. It wouldn't be good. He wouldn't be able to hold him own. He'd get in the way. He'd be useless. Useless..., "I'm not a weakling like you, I can take it. Just do it already, asshole."

The grip on the bone tightened, and Bakugou bristled, gritting his teeth, "Ready?" Bakugou nodded.

With a rough push, and a paralyzing POP! of the bone realigning into the socket, Bakugou's eyes went wide in pain. It was absolute agony. Sharp, hot, stabbing, electric. Oh god, it hurt so fucking bad. A strangled scream rose up his throat but was cut off by Kirishima slapping a hand over his mouth, and cradling his head, "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. Please be quiet. It's okay. It's over. It's okay now. I'm sorry."

Bakugou dug his fingers roughly into the dirt below him; pain was the only thing he could feel. Tears leaked through his scrunched eyed and Bakugou realized, 'Oh fuck, I'm gonna be sick'. He slapped his friend's hand away from the mouth and tuned his head to the side to gag wetly onto the ground, bringing up thin streams of his meager dinner that night along with the burn of stomach acid and bile.

The sharp pain in his shoulder was starting to receded a bit, only to be replaced with the knife in his side that the muscles around his broken ribs contracting as he retched weakly. Bakugou let out a pathetic whimper before collapsing forwards into Kirishima. The later let out a noise of surprise, and Bakugou's face burned with embarrassment. This was so out of character; so pathetic. Weak. Pathetic.

Kirishima ran his hands through Bakugou's hair, "I'm so sorry, Bakugou." He was exhausted. Whatever adrenaline Bakugou's body was desperately holding onto, left him the moment his shoulder was relocated. For a moment, Bakugou thought he might fall asleep right then and there. The dirt below him and his friend's chest was suddenly so comfortable. Maybe he could just- Suddenly there was a blast far away, and Bakugou looked up to see a mushroom cloud of dirt reach up towards the sky, birds flying away in a hurry to get the hell out of there.

"We need to get moving again," Kirishima informed, "I- I'm so sorry. But we have to get to the safe house."

Bakugou lifted his head up, wiping away stray tears and the vomit that still clung to his chin, "Don't be, 's fine. I'm fine." He tried standing up, but as soon as Bakugou's feet was underneath him again, they buckled and he was sent back towards the ground.

Kirishima grabbed him before he fell back down completely, helping to steady himself, "Woah, there buddy. It's okay."

Weakly, Bakugou slapped away the hands on him as soon as he felt that he was stable enough to stand without help, "I said I was fine, dammit," his retort barely had any bite to it, instead it sounded like an exhausted sigh. The worst thing was that the feeling was starting to return back to Bakugou's arm, the blood returning back to the limb. The numbness was gone, and it just started hurting again; throbbing in time with his jostled ribs. Bakugou tried to keep his breathing low and shallow as to not aggravate his side anymore, but he wasn't very successful, "Alright... let's go."

Kirishima's POV Bakugou was in bad shape. Kirishima cast a glance over at his friend, and even in the dimness of the moon's light it was easy to see how pale his tan skin was, how sweat glistened off of it and stuck his spiky hair to his forehead. Not only that, but Bakugou was barely keeping up any kind of fast pace - but Kirishima expected that; the fiery blonde was clearly exhausted. He broke the silence, "We'll reach the safe house soon, I promise." It was an empty promise, and Kirishima had a hunch that Bakugou knew that as well; they still weren't even sure they were going in the right direction, and they were only going at a fraction of the pace they had been holding up earlier. The other classmates had probably already made it to the safe house. Kirishima hoped, anyway. That would mean that the other pro heroes were on their way. Another explosion sounded off in the distance, and the blonde picked up his speed a bit, and Kirishima matched it. Ever since they took off again after relocating Bakugou's shoulder, Kirishima wasn't working up a sweat at all, but Bakugou's breathing was so labored, and it seemed extremely painful. Briefly, Kirishima remembered the time he cracked a rib as a kid doing something stupid - and it still hurt like a bitch even after the pain killers; he didn't even want to imagine what Bakugou was feeling. That mixed with the agony of a dislocated shoulder? Kirishima shivered at the thought, thinking, 'Nope, no thank you.'

Caught up in his thoughts, Kirishima hadn't noticed that Bakugou started lagging behind him again. He turned his head back just in time to see Bakugou, who's eyes were closed, his face scrunched up in pain, clip his bad shoulder on a nearby tree.

A hoarse yelp rang out through the air as Bakugou was sent to the ground, curling in on himself, hands gripping his left shoulder so hard it looked like his finger nails were going to start piercing the skin, "Bakugou!" Kirishima rushed over, wincing himself at just the thought of it, "Hey, buddy, you alright?" His hands anxiously hovered over his friend, not sure what he could do to make it better, to help ease the pain.

"M' fine..." Bakugou breathed into the dirt covered ground beneath him "M' fine, just... give me a moment."

Kirishima nodded, "Of course, buddy." He kneeled there for what felt like forever, just watching Bakugou writhe in pain. Kirishima couldn't get over how out of character for the blonde; he almost never showed signs of discomfort. It seemed like it was was beyond him; almost like he didn't have any pain receptors. Kirishima took a moment to actually feel glad they got split up together, knowing that Bakugou would probably just had continued hiding his injuries otherwise. It seemed you'd really had to push this kid before he would break down and admit something was wrong.

Finally, Bakugou's whimpers and desperate gasps died down, and his breathing evened out a bit, "Better?"

"Yeah," it was a lie that they both knew.

"Alright," Kirishima pulled Bakugou's good arm up and over his shoulder, "Up we go."

At this point, Bakugou was nothing more than a dead weight. His feet were barely moving, and it was more like Kirishima was just dragging him along. God, he prayed that they didn't run into Shigaraki again, or any of the other villains for that matter. Things were bad; terrible even.

Suddenly another noise rang out through the stagnant night air, but this one was different. A small shot, like the firing of a gun. Both boys looked up the direction of the sound and saw a blast of light shoot upwards towards the sky before slowly dying out. A flare! Oh thank god. It wasn't that far away from them, a little bit to the left and about another mile out. Kirishima smiled and turned to Bakugou, "Look! It's a signal. The others made it just fine." Bakugou let out a weak smile, "G-Guess the others aren't so fucking useless after all."

Kirishima let out a chuckle, glad to see the blonde was still his usual asshole self, but the laugh cut off abruptly as he watched Bakugou's eyes roll backwards, and he collapsed forwards, "Bakugou!" The only thing that kept his friend from falling flat on his face was the arm that was still draped around Kirishima's shoulder. Shit, shit, shit.

In a moment of panic, Kirishima scooped Bakugou up into his arms bridal style and started rushing towards the direction of the flare. Looking down, he took a little solace in the fact that his friend's face was smooth and calm, no longer scrunched in pain and blanketed with exhaustion; but he desperately needed help, and fast.

"Just a little longer, Bakugou," Kirishima spoke to the unconscious form in his arms, "I told you we were gonna be there soon. I promised.”

#whumtober #i can't fucking write for shit but i couldn't help myself #katwrites #katdraws #bnha #fic #art #injury #blood #dislocation #slight emeto #just lemme throw this fic and run tbh #the xanax is gonna wear off and im gonna read this and just die inside i can feel it

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