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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 3 years

Text

Inked

Still on hiatus. But I found an old piece of writing and I revamped it just a smidge! It was originally published in 2018 on calumh-excess. Which is now deactivated. Hooray for finding pieces!

Calum's been watching Jay for a while. She's cute, talented, but a bit of mystery. Should he really give into her? What will it take for him to admit he has a crush?

Enjoy my masterlist (on hiatus)

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He watched her sometimes for far too long. The way her tongue stuck out as she pulled the skin and her hand worked steadily with the needle made it hard for him to resist. Her face always seemed to catch the harsh fluorescent lights and reflect it back so that it twinkled against her skin. A slight sheen, but nothing just of ethereal. He wasn’t even interested in any new ink, not seriously anyway. He had slowed on the ink train, but the shop his tattoo artist owned was a nice place to hang out sometimes. When he wanted to get out of his house but didn’t want to actually go somewhere, he could hang out here, listening to the buzz of the tattoo gun, poke his hand at trying a design here or there. They weren't great. He hadn't considered him this kind of artist, but the shop felt like a second home.

Besides, having her around was a more than welcomed bonus.

He wasn’t even sure what it was about her. She showed up about a year and a half ago, under an apprenticeship. Calum’s artist was unsure of her, much like everyone else that asked to work under him. A hazard of the job, according to the job, according to Calum's artist. However, her drawings spoke volumes; the colors and line work were impeccable. She had talent and knew it without being cocky about it. Well, sometimes she wasn’t. Calum watched her run into the occasional asshole that tried to belittle her; she always put her foot down in those situations. He didn’t fault her.

Today’s no different. When Calum walks in, he greets the guy at the front desk, eyes searching for her. He spots her in the back with her oversized frames creating a small glare over her brown eyes. He never quite got the appeal of the grandma-shaped glasses trend, but on her, they worked. She looked wise but soft. The glass pulled him in, felt like she was seeing into his soul. Maybe she was; maybe the pain made people more vulnerable than they anticipated--entrusting someone, a stranger in some ways, to permanently mark you and not fuck it up. Whatever the reason, looking at her felt timeless. Like she had seen it all, and you are just waiting for you to spill all the secrets.

“You finally going to get some new ink?” Calum’s artist teases.

Calum shakes his head, turning his attention away from her. “You finally took her training wheels off?”

“Your girlfriend’s got mad skills. I couldn’t baby her forever. Jay works hard on each piece, learned fast. Got a steady ass hand and pretty gentle for handling a needle.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, because you haven’t hardly even talked to her. Go for it, you wuss. What’s the worst she says? No?”

Calum exhales a chuckle. "I mean, the worst she stabs me with the tattoo gun. But considering the ink I'm already sporting, I doubt that's really all that bad.”

“Jay would not do that unless you asked for it, ff course. But really, go on, ask her out.”

Calum glances back at Jay. It’s a nickname. No one in the shop calls her by her full name. The only reason Calum heard it was when a client came asking for her. Jay was quick to correct them.

She wipes, clearing excess ink, before dipping back into the small cup. Jay smiles up at her client. Calum's sure they appreciate the reprise. Getting tattoos weren't always fun, but bearable enough to forget about it and get more.

Calum turns his gaze away. “I recommended you to a friend,” he says, hoping that he’ll escape the teasing. It’s not likely to happen. But at least he tries to minimize the ridicule.

"I appreciate it. Are they a first-timer?"

"A second-timer, but they're visiting town and want some new ink. I figured best not to fuck them over."

The two men laugh before Calum's escorted back to look through some new designs. Just in case something sparks his interest. Calum's visit is supposed to be short, but there's not much else on his to-do list for the day. He could kill a few hours here.

When Calum comes out from the back, after spending too much time pretending art was ever a talent of his, he looks for Jay again. She’s not in her corner, nor is she at the front. Calum shrugs, figuring she might have gone for lunch, or home depending.

As Calum walks to his car, he checks his phone. Nothing major's happened.

“Leaving so soon?” A voice states. Calum knows that voice, a little gravelly, mostly sweet. He’s dreamt of it every so often. He prays to hear it when he visits the shop.

He turns to Jay, who leans against the bricks. A vape is wrapped in her fingers. “Gotta get some dinner, maybe make a run to the grocery store," Calum returns. "I've gotten lazy."

She nods. “This reminds me that I can't survive off BLTs forever," she laughs.

"You could try, but I think you'd need other vegetables and some fruit in that mix too."

She pushes up on her glass with a nod. "Ah, yes, gotta get the whole food pyramid." It goes silent between them and Calum gives another nod, raising a few fingers to signal his departure while still keeping his phone in a secure enough grip.

"Hey, wait!" Jay calls out again, taking a half step forward. Calum turns to her. "Can I give you something before you leave?”

Calum nods, not trusting his voice. What would she give him? She nods back to the front door, taking back that initial half-step. “It's inside. Give me like two minutes.”

She disappears inside and Calum stands, his phone still in his hands, staring at the spot she once stood. Just as quickly as she disappeared, Jay reappears. In hand is her portfolio. She flips through before stopping and slides the heavy-duty drawing paper out.

Calum stares down at the green and black drawing. It’s his face, for the most part, that stares back at him. It’s distorted by a crystal ball that glows green. Inside are some instruments and something else, but right now he can’t really put it all together. His eyes keep moving over the lightning bolt, the crystal ball, the uncanniness of his face on a piece of paper, his three-dimensional face somehow translated perfectly into a 2-D space.

“Holy shit, this is amazing,” he breathes. “Thank you,” he says looking back up to her.

She shrugs with a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“Seriously, this is so fucking awesome. I’m going to frame it,” he gushes. He’s too excited to be nervous, or be embarrassed. "What are the dimensions?"

“I'm just really glad you don’t find it too creepy. I was watching you a couple weeks ago when you stopped by. It just sort hit me, the image of the crystal ball and lightning bolt; I had to draw it,” Jay elaborates. "And it's 8.5 by 11--standard printer paper size."

Calum shakes his head, staring over the drawing again. It feels so delicate suddenly in his hands. It’s almost like Jay recognizes the change in his handling. She shuffles her load in her hands and pulls out an empty plastic over. “Here,” she laughs handing it over. “So it doesn’t smudge or anything if you're worried."

Calum slides it in. “Thank you. Again. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome, Calum. Good luck with your grocery store trip and dinner,” Jay nods and then heads back inside. Calum watches the way the denim stretches across her hips, the way her hair billows just a little in the breeze of her strut.

For a moment, Calum can't move. The weight of the paper in his hand is hardly ounces, but it holds him--traps him to the point of the sidewalk. Jay thought enough of him to draw him. What did it all mean? Should he have found the courage to ask her out? He could walk back inside. But what if she didn't like him like that? Would it be too weird?

Calum blinks up into the hardly settling sun and thinks to himself, the second he can come back here, it better be with a bit more courage and possibly a gift certificate. No one can be made about free food, right?

It’s months before Calum can visit the shop again. The tour is a whirlwind and he only gets a few days off between legs. Not long enough to get back home or feel like he had any energy to drive out to the shop. But now that he's settled back in at home, he knows exactly where he's going.

It’s not his typical practice to just walk in and ask for a tattoo. But given the ink already on him, worse things could happen. When he pulls open the door, he notices it's kind of slow. Jay greets him at the front desk. “Hey, stranger,” she grins.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks in return.

“Pretty good. How was it? The tour? See any cool places?”

He nods. “Yeah, got to explore a few cities.” He taps his fingers against the wooden desk. “Do you have an appointment anytime soon?”

Jay shakes her head. “My 2 o’clock had to reschedule. I’m here until 4 before I see anyone. Why? What's tickling your fancy?”

“I was wondering if you could do a tat for me? I know this is very last minute and if you need me to come in another day this week, I totally can.” His words run into each other; his palms start to sweat. He wipes them on his jeans.

Jay laughs, holding up a hand. “Whoa, pump the brakes. One, what are you looking for?”

“You know that drawing you did for me?” She nods. “I was kind of hoping you could create something with just the crystal ball and lightning bolt. I know the drawing itself is kind of big.”

A grin lifts her cheeks; Calum’s heart settles for a second. “I think I can do that. Where are you thinking to put it?”

“Inner bicep.” He watches her gaze land on his arm. The t-shirt is baggy, he at least thought about that with enough advance.

“Give me 30 minutes to come up with some sketches.” Jay pushes away from the front desk and heads to the back, but not for calling to the shop to watch the front desk.

Calum slides into the seat at the front, leg bouncing as he settles down. This isn’t even his first tattoo, but the nerves flood his body. His scalp tingles. The thirty minutes move by too fast, but also too slow simultaneously. The seconds feel like hours but move by milliseconds.

Eventually, Jay resurfaces, waving him over to her. He walks back and looks at the sketches she places out in front of him. There are two different ones. One’s a bit more minimalistic, which is her style, with the lightning bolt in the background and a simple crystal ball at the point. The other is a bit bolder, the ball has a slightly warped edge where it connects to the bolt. It looks like the bolt is melting the glass ball.

“I can whip up more if neither one of them are quite right. But I wasn’t sure if it wanted something a bit more crisp and sharp or not,” Jay explains.

Calum admits that most of his tattoos are more cleaned up and sharp. He likes the idea of playing with a new style. “I like the second one,” he says, tapping it.

“You sure?” He nods, he’s never been more sure of something in his life. “Which bicep? Let me line it up and make sure it’ll fit.”

Calum lifts his left arm up for her. Laying the stencil over his skin, Jay notes she has to make a couple small tweaks. But after that, she’ll be ready. They discuss full color, or just outline, or shading, price, and a few other details before Jay concludes with, “Hop in my seat. I’ll be there soon.”

Calum nods and walks over to her station. Her stuff is already laid out, probably for her canceled 2 o’clock. It’s about five more minutes before Jay returns with the final stencil. Calum rolls up the sleeve of his shirt before she places the stencil. Happy with the placement, he stretches out on the table.

Jay gets herself ready before she brings the needle over his skin. The first puncture always makes him jolt a little, the first jab of pain causes his heart to race. “Do you plan on relaxing now that you're back home?"

"Yeah, for a little bit. I might go see my family, but I know we'll be back in the studio soon. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"I mean exciting things happen every day at this place. But it's not like I could recall them all now."

Calum hums, acknowledging her statement, but not quite sure what to say next. Luckily, Jay's faster to fill in the silence. "You do realize you didn’t have to get a tattoo to have a real conversation with me?” Jay teases, pushing up her glasses.

Calum’s cheeks heat. “It’s not like that,” he chuckles.

“Well, that’s how it seems.”

“You were always busy when I stopped by. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Not always,” she laughs. “But it’s alright. You’re going to have plenty of time while I’m stabbing you to say all those things you didn’t.”

A chuckle escapes him; of course, Jay would have this sense of humor. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m paying so much for people just to stab me and act as a therapy. Maybe I am a masochist.”

“So are a lot of people. Sometimes you just take the emotional pain out in the physical realm.”

“I always imagined people that worked in a tattoo shop to be more heavily tatted,” Calum hums, taking in scattered ink across her arms and one pokes out from the V in her t-shirt.

“I focused it more on my back and legs and not so much my arms. I’m getting there. So, why this one today?”

Calum goes to shrug, but stops himself as he hears the gun nearing his skin again. “Not really sure. It looked cool. I guess it also serves to remind me that fate isn’t linear. There’s going to be twists and turns, maybe some trouble. And that’s okay. Don’t be afraid of the journey. Also, it's really fucking cool art.”

Jay hums her laugh, “Why thank you. Wise brain you got there. Besides, it seems like you also have people you keep close to you.” She eyes the initials and the name under the bird. “Whoever they are to you, I hope you all stay close.”

“Those are my parents' initials,” he explains. “And my sister’s name. They’ve been with me through it all--I love them dearly.”

“So sweet. I wish my parents and I were closer. I tattooed my brother’s jersey number on me. It was my first tattoo.”

“What did he play?”

“Soccer, or for your kind, football.”

“Hey now, it’s played with the feet, it makes much more sense.”

Jay laughs, wiping off excess ink. She cocks her head to the side a little, then goes back in for the black ink. “I’m only teasing. Us Americans are so dumb sometimes. Like why is our football not called something else? Literally, the only thing that happens with the feet is the running. We carry the fucking ball.”

“I’ve wondered that as well!” he laughs. "Does your brother still play?"

“Yeah, the whole knucklehead still plays for his college.”

“What position?”

Jay laughs. “I'll have you know my job as the older sister is to show up and cheer him on. Something defensive? I don’t remember off the top my head.”

“I’ll give you credit for that. I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“He does until he sees with me in face paint on and then he’s acting like he doesn’t know me. Oh, oh wait, I think remember what he does. It’s defensive,” she pauses, lips pursed together, “something fielder.”

“Defensive midfielder?” he asks.

“Yeah, that. But like I said, I show up when I can and scream. That’s it. When he’s old enough, I’ll buy him a beer after his games too.”

“How old is he?”

“Nineteen, we’re three years apart.”

“The only sibling you have?”

“Nah, got a baby sister too. She’s fifteen. If you’re impressed by my eyeshadow thank her. Because she’s the one that taught me how to do it.”

Calum finds himself staring at the red and gold coloring her eyelids. “It looks really nice,” he breathes.

“Why thank you.” She pauses to bats her eyelashes. “I even managed to get those godforsaken falsies on right too. They look good, but the raise hell.”

“I think you’re the first woman I’ve met in LA that’s not obsessed with makeup,” he notes.

“Oh, you were doing so well. There are a lot of people of who aren’t huge in the makeup scene.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries to backtrack. “I’m sorry. In my experience, it’s not like that. They’re hiding the fact they aren’t wearing makeup--embarrassed by it or something.”

Jay nods, pushing up her glasses yet again. “Yeah, it’s not easy. We’re told to be perfect, but in reality, we’re just like everyone. We’re human, imperfect and flaw-full and beautiful.”

“Not in spite of, but because of.”

“Exactly,” she chuckles. Silences settles in around them. Calum wonders why she said she was closer to her family, but the way she talks about her siblings doesn’t match. She’s cheering her brother on at his game; she’s sitting down to learn makeup with and from her sister.

“Can I ask a bit of a personal question?” he asks.

“What kind of personal? Do I get a lifeline?”

Cal exhales a laugh. “You can always say no.”

“Hit me with it.”

“Why say that you’re family isn’t close but you clearly take a lot of pride in your siblings?”

“An observant one on my table, I see. It’s my parents. They don’t like that I’m pansexual, say I’m going to hell. My siblings don’t fucking care. I’m still the crazy-ass sister that loves and supports them.”

With a hum of acknowledgment from Calum, it goes quiet again around them for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He knows it doesn’t really fix anything for her; it doesn’t take away the potential years of her suffering. It’s the only thing he can offer her though. It feels right to say.

“Oh, no need for you to be sorry. It’s not like you threw me out of the house.”

“Ouch. You’re making it though right?”

“Yeah, now that I work here, things are on the up and up.”

“That’s good; I’m glad.”

“Thanks.”

“Favorite tattoo you’ve done?” he asks, wanting to hear her voice again.

“This one,” she laughs. “Though I had someone ask for a pin-up witch, which was also pretty fucking cool to do.”

Calum remembers seeing that on her Instagram. “That one was amazing! Her lips looked so good; I know that’s a strange thing to admit.”

“Don’t worry. I am quite proud of that myself.”

“Do you have a favorite tattoo on you?”

“The blue jay on my shoulder. My parents would take me on walks when I was still an infant. According to the legend, while they were sitting on a park bench a blue jay landed on me. I didn’t cry; it didn’t hurt me. It just landed for a second and then flew off. They called me Blue Jay ever since. I just shortened the nickname as I got older.” She gives one more wipe. “Finished. Check it out.”

Calum sits up, walking over to the mirror. He grins seeing the melting ball sitting against his skin. He grins over to Jay. “It looks amazing. Thank you.”

“No problem.” They head back over to her station. Jay cleans it and wraps the fresh ink. Calum carefully gets his sleeve back down with a little help from Jay. He pays their agreed price with his card, but slides two fifties over to her. “You do know that’s more than double a twenty percent tip right?”

Calum shrugs. “Is it? I’m bad at math,” he grins. “Treat your sister to a new palette or something. Treat yourself to something.”

“Thank you. Now next time, you come by, I hope we don’t talk while I’m stabbing you repeatedly.”

Calum shakes his head, a grin still on his face. Of course. He had forgotten to get the gift certificate. But possibly asking Jay to dinner wouldn't be such a bad idea. “Give me your number and I can promise the next time we talk, it won’t in your chair.”

She holds out her hand, waiting. He hands her his phone, after unlocking it. She puts her number in. She goes to hand the phone back but just before his fingers touch it, she draws it back. "I mean it--actually text me. I adore memes, dogs, TikToks, your favorite songs."

"I'll actually talk to you. I promise."

Jay hands over his phone with a smile. Calum steps outside the glass doors. Why should he wait? He could do it now. For fuck sake, the last hour had been the groundwork for a clear sign a date was absolutely an option. His fingers hovering over her name. He taps it, and then presses for a call. Holding the phone to his ear, he listens to it ring for a second.

“I can still see you, you know?” Jay laughs.

Calum turns around, catching her leaning against the front desk. “I told you the next time we talked you wouldn’t be inking me.”

“What can I help you with, Calum?”

“Dinner, tonight-- I may have ordered too many appetizers for just little old me."

Her laugh trickles in over the speaker. She drops her head, giving it a shake before looking back up to him in the afternoon sun. “I think I can help you with that. Give me the time and place."

Calum rattles off the name of a restaurant that he had been wanting to try. Nothing too upscale, but not something that would be too casual. "How does 8 sound?"

"I love it there. I'll see you at 8."

“Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Calum.” As he walks to his car, his phone buzzes yet again. This time a text from his artist, I’m being fucking replaced, I see. I can’t be too mad since it’s Jay. Calum laughs as he slides into his car. Maybe he is getting replaced; maybe he’s not. Calum’s not sure. He is sure that he needs to figure out if he can make reservations and what to wear for tonight.

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shesawriter39049 · 3 years

Text

|UNWRAP ME| M|

Pairing : Jimin X Reader (Ft a lil Tae)

“There’s a bow on my panties because my ass is a present!”

About- Honestly, you were just trying to prep gift bags for your company’s holiday party! But Jimins stressed, and needs a little brain reset sooo….I guess we’re prepping gift bags later!

Or- The company has quite a few deadlines to hit before you guys close for the holiday! Jimin’s in charge of talent and everybody’s fucking up…but in your line of work it’s a domino affect! So if his crew falls behind ultimately everybody’s behind! Hints Jimin’s stress and frustration....

WC: Sneak peek (1k)

WARNINGS: (FULL THING): Teasing, light edging, dirty talk, top/bottom OC, top/power bottom Jimin, hand restraints, unprotected sex, over stimulation, fingering (F receiving), biting/marking kink, VERY light degration kink (he playfully calls her a “little bitch/slut” once) light come play, light spanking

FINAL NOTE: This is a stand alone smut drabble within my OT7 poly universe called “7 DEEP”. Short AU SUMMARY: Your husband Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in an open relationship with! P.S. If you’re new here Kookie joins the party a little later….

*Pierced Jimin/Red haired “Dope” Era Jimin meets 2020 Jimin!?

*Also it should go without being said but Jimin, IS Westernized, he’s from LA in this ffs!

*In true Rocki fashion I decided to do holidy prompts late af & did not finish in time for the main Holiday but w/e! Note, there is some backstory here bc this was set to be the 1st of 3 holiday prompts!** ___________________________________________________

Sunday, December 14TH, 4PM

“Alright, so you wanna hear some bullshit?!”

K, well that’s apparently Jimin, musing around a mouth full of fries! I love how no one even bothers to knock, give notice they just show the fuck up! Whenever...

Cute.

I swear it sounds like your running a damn liquor store because there’s an obnoxious amount of bells and mistletoe hanging above the door almost acting as a doorbell at this point. Just casually Fa-la-laing together, echoing throughout your entire apartment every damn time the door opens! Honestly, your slowly regretting giving Jin and Tae free reign with decorations because that shits annoying as all hell!

Gaze still focused on your original task, not even looking in his direction “Don’t trip over the-“ There's a loud thud, followed by an obscene groan, accompanied by an even louder “Fuckkk!” Which solidified he did in fact trip over the ....

“....Box with Jin’s other Christmas tree in it ...” The words kinda died off your tongue at this point because well, clearly the warning did not fare well! “If anything’s broken I’m totally snitching just so we’re clear” Sassing over a half empty glass of spiked eggnog.

Now that you’ve finally looked at him, you find yourself hiding a smirk behind your cocktail as well! The boy is fine, you’d give him that! Looking like a model off duty, in his low cut white v, neck hidden beneath a distressed leather jacket! Topping off the look with a pair of chunky combats and disrespectfully tight dark wash denim jeans! I swear they damn near looked painted on, aviators resting on the bridge of his nose! Gucci backpack slung over his shoulder, Starbucks in one hand, and some brown bag full of grease in the other! Jimin recently went back red, looking dangerously close to the same 18 year old you met, at UCLA almost years ago now! Just a boujier version, it’s like this Jimin’s from Calabasas instead of the Bay! Though your down for both options if we’re being real!

Not that Jimin’s not equally as good of company as well, you were honestly just expecting Tae! The two of you were starting to put together the gift bags for next week's holiday party! Hints the hot ass mess all over the floor of your living room, it’s a disgusting pile of shopping bags and boxes! Everything from Amazon to Saks Fifth, at this point you aren’t even sure where the fuck your floor starts or ends! One thing you do know for damn sure is Hobi’s going to have an aneurysm If he sees it! Sooo, hopefully Tae shows up sooner than later...

It’s become a tradition, or at least since the companies been profitable enough to do so! First off, you’re love language has always been a combination of “Gifts” and “Acts of service, so shit like this is essentially second nature!

However, quality time has slowly slipped its way into the mix over the past couple of years as well! Especially considering it’s almost a luxury for the seven of you at this point but you try not to complain! I mean Namjoon and yourself just did an interview last week for Forbes 30 under 30 for fucks sake! But anyway, like I was originally saying this little party is your way of trying to give your staff a combination of all 3 said love languages!

Above everything else you all work your asses off well, aware this is far from a 9-5, yet they give you their best constantly! Yeah, it was built on the backs of you and your boys but it wouldn’t be were it is now without everyone else! So, with that being said the schedule is as follows!

1.Bust ass and hit all of your year end deadlines by December 22nd.

2.The holiday party is on the 23rd...

3. Thennnnnn....after that the companies closed until the 2nd of January!

Well kinda, if we’re being real the 7 of you never fully stop working, but you damn sure plan to try! I guess it’s the beauty and the curse of having damn near everything accessible on your phone! I swear this morning Joon was washing your back whilst you read him the latest profit/loss update from Jin soooo......that’s that!

Everyone else however....off duty with pay!

Which brings us back to the original task at hand before Jimin showed up,prepping the gift bags that get handed out at said holiday party! The invite list is pretty exclusive honestly,outside of your staff, and there plus one, the other guests are typically the immediate crew/ talent used throughout the year on various productions! Oh, there’s also special little packages mailed out to a couple of the company's sponsors as well! So all together were looking at at least 100 gift bags give or take! Of course at this stage you guys go all out but that’s not what it’s about! It’s legitimately the thought that counts!

Little gestures like this just remind people that you care,that they’re on your mind even if they aren’t currently doing you a favor! That’s what sets Onyx apart, all the little things you do without even thinking about it! Coffee, donuts, catering on set for long shoots,or even the little kits Jimin brings with him to set for the models! Fully stocked with soothing cream, heating pads, the full nine! It’s actually sad how much of a rarity it is in your line of work!

Obviously, it goes without saying that those types of gestures aren’t feasible for everyone....However there’s companies worth more than you that do amples less!

But anyway back to Jimin and Tae! As I mentioned when the door originally opened you were expecting a mop of silver locks as opposed to red! Baby boy ran out to pick up the custom gift bags from this Indie vendor in WeHo. Hint’s why you were expecting Tae instead, now, why Jimins here I have no damn idea! Clearly we’re about to find out and apparently it’s “Some Bullshit!”

Honestly outside of checking his OOTD you didn't truly look at him. Far too busy propped on top of your oversized dining room table sorting through a manusery of “Thank you” cards!

Eyes flicking to the left ever so slightly as you hear him shuffle closer “I-yeah sure what bullsh-wait are you eating my DoorDash?!”

It’s the way you constantly have to remind yourself that jail will not be like Orange is in the new black! Because I swear you damn near chucked this martini glass at that fire engine red dome of his!

Jimin just shrugs, a little nonchalant and unenthusiastic, almost as if he’s inconvenienced actually...

“Mmm, depends on perspective” He deadass just stuffed two more fires in his mouth! You're literally going to strangle him! It’s borderline painful how hard your jaw tick, eyes narrowed in his direction!

Brows arched so damn high your gonna end up needing Botox from the permanent crease embedding within your skin. “Perspect-your literally eating-“

Holding a solitary finger in your direction “Tae just text me and said look at your phone and text him back...with like, a million pouty faces. Also, different note, who changed the decorations I placed on the mantle?! “

Jimin’s hand is now resting on his hip, legitimately angry about these damn decorations! I think his neck even did a couple rolls in the process, and I’m willing to bet,before he leaves they will be swapped out again!

A frustrated groan attempts to leave your throat though it goes unacknowledged as your lacking any ounce or bite! Far too fond of both of your boys to truly be agitated at the moment! Actually that’s a lie, you high key wanna punch Jimin but it’s fine ....

“That, would be Jin, he said they clashed with the table decor” Pointing to all of the gold, and maroon colored decorations donning the marble coffee table “So, if your pissed go curse him out because I could give less than a damn! Now where the fuck is my phoneeee”

Hopping off the table causing your oversized UCLA Alum hoodie to hike over your ass. Said ass is covered or barely covered considering your cheeky, red, ruffle little panties are in fact assless! A cute little bow perched right on top of your tailbone, as if to direct the eye where to go….

Jimin is now choking on stolen fires and yeah there’s a smirk on your face as you grab your phone!

Mmmmhmmmm...and to think, maybe if he wasn’t being such a brat you’d let him unwrap one of his gifts a little early!

“Baby now he’s calling meeee” Anddddd he’s whining, wiggling his phone like it’s on fire! Ya know, moments like these in fact remind you that Tae and Jimin are the youngest!

“Oh for fucks sake!” Huffing in his direction snatching the phone and bag of Five Guys away in the process!

“Yes baby?” It’s actually terrifying how quickly your tone, and entire demeanor just switched! Somewhat reminiscent to how you’d see a mom scold one child then baby talk another all in the same breath!

Jimin without a doubt noticed too, lip jutting out in a pout and no matter how many times you roll your eyes you still find yourself leaning forward kissing it right off! He moans into it and you Instantly taste the tangy seasoning from your fries, especially once he tries to swipe his tongue past the seam of your lips. The feeling of that tiny piece of metal playing in his mouth almost distracted you, but alas...the notion immediately reminds you why you were irked to begin with! Without even thinking you lean back into nipping at his bottom lip, though...this is Jimin we’re dealing with here! So whatever you thought you’d achieve is now dead, because a needy little whine just rustled in the back of his throat

Speaking of love languages,there’s another called “Physical Touch” which has the words Jimin Park written all over it. So with that being said you really should’ve already been prepared for whatever’s about to unfold.

It’s subconscious at this point, head dropping down to the crook of your neck, nosing up a vein like a neglected puppy! Squeezing your waist hard enough to damn near engrave his thumb print in against your hip bones! Well, clearly he doesn’t want you going anywhere anytime soon!

So what do you do instead? Place the bag of food on the bar, hold the phone in one hand and bring the other up to play in his freshly dyed locks! I swear this man is a second away from purring so maybe he’s not a puppy after all. Suddenly his ring clanned fingers trickle down your spine heading south, flexing his palm to squeeze down around the swell of your ass! Shifting you forward so your chest to chest...

So, here you are trying to cater to both of your boys at once...lord help you!

“No, of course I wasn’t ignoring you, I was just busy-yes Tae. You wanna put what in a what,Now?”

~~~~~

Hiii, as I mentioned above this was kinda last minute, I wrote out prompts on the 21st, then adult life kicked in. I actually had my own little office Christmas party to plan (Nothing on this scale obviously because well, we know the way the real world is rn) However because of that I couldn’t truly work on this until the 24th. However it’s been a long time since I wrote/wanted to write so I opted to just post it anyway! Hopefully the full thing will be up by the 28th at the latest.

I have also attached the overall masterlist for this AU!

7 DEEP

#jimin #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x you #park jimin #park jimin smut #park jimin x reader #bts #bts smut #bts x reader #bts au #kpop #kpop smut #bts poly #bts poly au

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rosyk · 3 years

Text

I’ll never love again

pairing: bang chan x reader genre: angst warnings: none, some cussing word: 1.4k a/n: I tried to make it as short as possible because I’m used to very long wattpad ffs. This is my very first published story tho so it isn’t real good. I’m new to tumblr but I just wanted to share a bit of my one shots. Hope you enjoy!

I just got off from practice which is why I am feeling so exhausted. Typically in times like this, the only cure would be you. But before all my thoughts turns to actions, I stopped. For the very first time, I hesitated looking your way. I hesitated approaching you. Where did everything go wrong? We’ve been dating for several months but why can’t this pain inside me leave? It felt as if I was devoured by the numbness inside me and the thoughts rambling on and on inside my mind. We were supposed to be fine until the end, what happened to all that? I know it was hard for you to let me move on from my past. I know it was hard for you to show me that I could love again. You made me feel as if after all the heartbreaks, you were finally the one. You made my day go brighter but now all I could see is the colors slowly fading. Were you tired of me when you said years ago that you wouldn’t? Were you annoyed when you said you would never be? Or were you falling out of love when you showed me the meaning of forever? I know feelings do change. But since when were promises made to be broken? It all started at the sidewalk in Cheonggyecheon Stream. I was crying, sitting at the stairs very late at night, feeling so heartbroken. And yes, that was the exact spot where you found me. You tried to cheer me up and I was very embarrassed because someone witnessed how vulnerable I am. Weeks later, we’ve been meeting in different places which I described as “creepy” and even labeled you as a stalker. You laughed it off and took the opportunity to ask whether I wanted to chill with you near the coffee shop. As unrealistic as it may seem, even after the harsh break-up I had faced, even after some guys tried to ask me out, you were the only one among them who made me want to love again. Perhaps, I was too naive. And now here I am in front of your dorm. The rest of your members had gone out so I decided to continue my routine. I took a deep breath before entering your music studio/room. I saw you in your favorite chair, talking to someone on the phone. You seemed “happy”, happier than you could ever be with me. You were too caught up with the conversation that it took several minutes before you had noticed me. Waiting was very much a pain pushed in. Your gaze met mine and as usual, I masked everything with a facade that everything is okay, when it clearly isn’t. I know you’re getting annoyed of me, though that isn’t the reason why we slowly drifted apart. “Chan, I’m back!” I beamed a smile and you gave a slight nod in response. It was pretty much awkward as I sat on a different chair. This silence was the loudest thing I’ve ever heard. “Why are you here again?” You wearily sighed and emphasized the last word in the sentence. I bit my lip trying to calm myself down as my throat dried. This is fine, I could get used to it and much better then. “I was needing your comfort” I giggled in a low volume and fiddled with my fingers nervously as you gave me a silent treatment. My eyes roamed around the room and decided to talk it out. “Was it Jeon Hana?” Jeon Hana was the girl you’ve been working with your music lately. You’ve been on secret collaborations and projects with her. You described her as someone who could make you produce the right vibe and melody when I couldn’t. Someone who had the same passion and goal as yours, when I don’t. It was starting to get late but you were finally done producing. You walked me back to home looking forced to do so. We walked past the street and I decided to kill the tension. “Oh, remember this place?” I tugged your black jacket and pointed at the stairs. I showed you an eye smile as your eyes look slightly surprised.

“Wasn’t this where we went on a little date?” And that was it. We never went on a date here because you didn’t want to. I lowered my head down, as I took a big deep breath before I continued walking and leaving you behind. I didn’t even look at you for a moment.You tried to call my name and tried to approach me but stopped on your tracks once I turned and forced myself to stop crying. You hate to see me cry, afterall. “You’re tired of me aren’t you?” You were left surprised after those words left my lips. Even I, myself didn’t know I was capable of confronting you. Everything, was just too much and I was on my limit. “You like Hana, don’t you?” I slowly walked back to you and smiled a bit to at least lift myself up. It was not effective as tears rolled down my cheeks. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t-“ I cut his sentence of as sudden realization hits me. “Oh, of course you don’t. You were just too absorbed with your music” I licked my lips trying to cool myself off as I continued speaking “You don’t love her but love the fact she gives you the right taste you need in that shitty passion of yours” I wasn’t stuttering but my tone raised as I gave up and showed you how vulnerable and weak I am once again. Everything was played like the past, except the part that it was now you who I was crying over. “Everything was fine before. You made me hope for something I wasn’t supposed to feel but now you’ve broken it. I gave you my time and my trust but why does it turn out like this?” My voice was cracking but I wanted to speak up “Why did you make me hopelessly try to pull the one-sided us you made me feel? Was it because I was never good enough to catch up with you or maybe just your ambition being much stronger than me?” I waited for your response. Again, a silent treatment. You wanted to speak up as your breath shakily tried to pick up the right words. It started to rain heavily yet you haven’t still answered. “Fuck, chan. I’m looking like a whole idiot here!” I screamed to fight the sound of the rain and made sure my words were heard. Tears non-stop came out in the least moment I would’ve wanted it to. “I shouldn’t have trusted you…” “Yes, it was true I was annoyed with you.” Your sentence struck through me to the point I wanted to run away. “I was too caught up with the thoughts of me not being able to produce songs unlike the past. I thought that maybe you weren’t the right girl who could show me the song I wanted to produce. But I loved you and had never thought of breaking up with you” your voice was shaky and that was when I knew it was a first to see you cry like this. It was a fucking painful view. “But I love you, and that’s the problem” I halted for a second and continued “You loved me, but I still do. You loved me but my love for you is stronger. You loved me, but there’s a limit, it expires” I looked at you in the eye and you did to me as well. You realized what I was about to say. “Please don’t, I promise I’ll fix this” you softly cried out while you held my hand, gently caressing it despite your shaking. “We can’t be going on like this if I’m the only one trying to figure things out. We can’t if we have different goals set in life. We can’t if we had given up fighting an obstacle in our relationship. Maybe, this wasn’t just it. It wasn’t bound to happen. Maybe, it isn’t fate.” I walked back to my house but made sure you know what I wanted to say beforehand. “Thank you Chan. I hope you find the one you’ve been looking for.” “Thank you, take care” You mumbled as you held your hands and felt the guilt. And that, was the last relationship I got myself into as I promised to never love again.

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delfts-purple · 3 years

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Saints Row Reboot Thoughts

So originally I had a massive ass post of my SR5 wish list sitting in my drafts but since that's now useless, gonna do this. For some context I have been playing since 06, when I was way to young and I fucking hated 4. Now lets go!

My Wants and not wants:

Reboot after SR2 or SRTT. No hate, SRTT was alright but it may be easier and better to reboot from SR2. I seriously do not want you to redo 1 and 2. They are very good games that can stand the test of time and deserve their place. I may be more pissed if you retcon 1 and 2 than I was at 4. Like I guess I could live with a remaster if it was a graphical and control scheme overhaul only. I do hear you young fans, we did have clunky controls back then but they were normal so I don't get put off by it.

It looks to be the case we are going back to the roots and my god are we overdue.

Lets talk clothing. Basically the entire clothing system from SR2, that is what I want pray for. It was peak customization that I have not had another game match.

BIG PHAT GOLD CHAINS PLEZ. I know its probably not fashionable anymore but hot damn it looks so good.

Body slider/Gender slider (idk what to call it) from SR2. Not only is it great for our Trans homies. It was just a great, nah, amazing tool. Really before its time.

Please, make it so I don't have to be a body builder. Like skinny Bosses need more love. My boy Ty was always skinny till 3 and 4 forced him to be bulky. Skinny boys need love tooo!!!!

Honestly like a hybrid of the character builder from 2 and 3 would work. The color, make up and feature diversity of SR3. Paired with the fine tuning of SR2. Its just like chefs kiss.

Custom walking styles, I always loved that my and my friends boss not walk alike.

Two tone hair again maybe? I just think its neat.

Honestly just all the fucking activities from SR2 and SR1. I loved them all, well except Heli assault but people liked that to so let them have it.

Tagging, please, I love tagging.

GOLD/PLATNUIM WEPON UNLOCKS! So gangster like hot damn.

BOOZE AND DRUGS! Like I have had 100s of hours of fun fucking about with that. Like if we had the variety of SR1 in booze and drugs, I would die and got to heaven.

I mean if you can find a way to not make romancing a bastardization I guess you can keep it.

JUST DON'T! Don't bastardize that charaters.

Can we maybe have back some of that grit? Like SR2 was a prefect balance of grit and humour. SRTT felt like I was a toddler been mollycoddled by shallow humour. Not enough grit and felt like it was wrote by a 10th grader tbh.

Make the Boss... them again. Like non of this 'he hu puckish rouge' shit. I don't play a gang game to be a fucking hero. I know, shock, horror. I play it to be a sociopathic bastard. I got 100 fucking games where I am the good guy, sometimes ya boi needs a break. A evil, going to hell for this, I do question my mental status when I laugh at this, break.

Mission and cut scene replay. One of the reason SR1 and 2 save files can rack up into the 1000s of hours for me is this feature. If I want to play one mission, I don't have to replay the whole game. I can give in to whims. I do not have a word for it in English but it is maximum happiness with fun.

More cut scenes. Like there felt like there was less of them in 3 and 4.

Idle animations. My Boss just been like 'yep, Delfts gone, time to go fishing or drinking or smoking' was just great.

Look Gat was never some weird immortal, unbeatable guy until you made him that way in 4 onwards. He was the kinda hot headed, asshole, who got him self into trouble over it, guy who we adored. Bring my boi back.

A photo mode. I mean I got very, very good at cropping screenshots and clipping my camera of walls but, my Boss deserves better! He his my handsome little killer and people need to know that.

MKUltra elevator nightmare shopping/wardrobe/garage screens, you know the ones, fucking scrap them. Go back to how it was in 1 and 2. I do not need to be subjected to CIA brutality while playing SR. I got enough of that thanks.

Keep the phone menu, that shit was tight. Real immersed me and I love seeing the Bosses phone. I mean I have bought and made replicas of them ffs.

Make hazel eyes behave like the did in the remaster. Like damn. Just. I have a whole post on this shit thats how good it was.

I know you guys are good for it but keep them fun af cheats. I spent to long as a massive af beating up super small people as it rained corpses. Oh and the gravity was gone.

Don't have dual wielding as a fucking upgrade. My Boss just dual wields, let him, like you did in 2.

Weapon skins, like in SR4, that was alright. I wouldn't mind that one.

Keep the Bosses back story vague still. I haven't wrote and perfected his back story over the last decade or more so you can piss on it.

Jackets and hoodie, stop the putting my hair in a ponytail. Last time I put on a fucking track jacket I didn't have to tie my hair back, It didn't happen in 2 so why 3 and 4?

Respect and Missions. Can we either have a return to the old style respect system to make people play the side missions or just not make people play them by force. I fucking hate Heli assault and all that flying shit, so been forced to do it made me want rip my hair out. Like if they are there people will play the ones they want, I do not want to be made to do it by the main story. THX

Bring back the day/night cycle. I could play for much longer when it wasn't so monotone. Also it made me think about what I was doing when. Like I wouldn't got to the night club at 10am.

Bring back Nightclubs. Tyde want's to party and so does Delfts.

Stop making the character hollow 2D’s of their former selves.

A varied city, like Stilwater. Seriously, feels like a real city and I have lived or worked in over 6 in my life so I know. Steelport felt like what some Vatnik Babushka (Boomer Grandma) in rural Siberia would describe the city, dull and unrealistic.

Have the gangs act like actual gangs. You know, go around doing crime and harassing NPCs like they did in 1 and 2.

NPCs, make them like you did in SR2. They acted like real people, did the most random and weird shit. Felt real. They also all look different or their was such a wide variety in base models I didn’t notice repetition. SRTT and SRIV they were like 5 NPCs. I had occasions where there was 10 of the same model and I was like, two or three is okay but fucking 10?

Make them drive the way they did in 1 and 2 too. I have drove in a city for a long time and that shit was so real. People are dumb sometimes.

Bring back Freckle Bitches!!!!!!

If I think of anything else I will add it but feel free to add your own and disagree with me. I kinda want to here how all you others be feeling about this. I feel fear and happy. Also can you tell I blasted this out at like 4am.

#Saints Row #Saints Row V #Saints Row 5 #Saints Row Reboot #SR #SRV #SR5 #SR Reboot

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daughterofthunder · 3 years

Text

like everything I do, I've been procrastinating to make this post but ngl I didn't see nearly as much chaotic academia this semester as I wanted to so i made a list of all the things that happened or I did that irradiate chaotic energy but make it academia:

• listening to Hozier and Lorde while reading Oresteia and eating chips in my bed

• completely ignoring what I had to study for my classic culture class to instead keep on reading some dictionary about greek mythology

• where the FUCK is my pen

• may or may have not read over 300 pages in 2 ish (more like started reading then fall asleep for the next 7 hours and woke up at 10 pm and then read) days.

• reading Aeneid ( just the parts that the teacher told us to) one day before the test

• WHERE THE FUCK IS MY HIGHLIGHTER?!?!!!

• studying on the floor and bed because the desk Is full of things that most definitely shouldn't be there

• ffs where is my highlighter

• having 4 highlighters and 2 of them ending but you like the color so you just keep. on. going. (proceeds to realize that mixing those two colours actually makes a pretty neat color)

• "does it count as blasphemy to ship Gods?"

• "I should make a pause I've already read for hours today, maybe I should read fanfic"

• "its 3 am and I think I know nothing yet I have an idea of everything, maybe I can bullshit my way through it" proceeds to have 15/20 on that test

• coffe coffee coffee coffee or tea tea tea tea or, if you are exquisite like ✨me✨, hot chocolate hot chocolate hot chocolate hot chocolate because you have a sweet tooth that's giving you literal cavities

• bed F U L L of random shit, including but not exclusively: ALL of my notebooks for classes, my computer, headphones, some random bag of potato chips, and a shit ton of plushies/pillows/edrodonts (idk how to write that word but the hot thing you cover yourself with that is also great to hug), all of my pens/pencils/highlighters of the past 3 years

• random stains on my notebooks/books

• pages E V E R Y W H E R E

• coffee way to late at night because you have no sense of self preservation

• telling people about your daily routine and getting very concerned looks (trying to get this one better tho, not cute or quirky just unhealthy tbh)

• being obsessed with random shit you learn in your classes (my most recent is greek mythology and the symbolism octavioan used to get in a position of power, yes Im currently studying this for a test)

• sweaters just stained with things you didn't even knew

• just..... ripped thighhighs because there's no way I can keep those not ripped

• using the same jacket because it's your favourite even if it doesn't fit the outfit at all

• sleeping on the floor/couch because the bed is full with random stuff

• messaging people like "ok so ik it's 3 am but..."

• hands write fast but brain thinks faster, missing letters and words

• same thing with passing my ideas into words, just.... a mess

• preferring to write over talking because at least there you don't have 8 different thoughts

• SIKE!!! but at least when writing you can write on the margins and let that thought be for a bit

• always running because I'm late, but never actually late

• leaves E V E R Y W H E R EM, between books, in my notebooks, in my wallet , in my phone case, on my floor, just everywhere

• mismatched everything: socks, shoelaces, earrings

• started reading duzens of books never actually finished any

• buying books impulsively (thrifted because books are expensive and I don't have the luxury to buy new books)

• ohhhh pretty clouds!!!

• I think this is more to lit students and humanities, but having pens, notebooks and post its wherever you go

• and on the same note, post its everywhere

• a little journal I have in my inside pocket of my jacket (THATS WHY ITS MY FAVOURITE!!!)

• inside of that pocket there's also pens, leaves, rocks, maybe a pencil and an eraser

well this is all!! for nowww

#chaotic academia #im sorry its such a mess #and completely unrelated but dont forget: eat the rich!!!#dark academia #maybe???#well whatever #hope yall have a good year!!!

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macgyvertape · 3 years

Text

50 or so hours into Cyberpunk 2077

This should be roughly the correct amount of time, ive been leaving the game running as I get up to get food or do stretches. Quests are roughly in order I did them

non spoilers above cut:

i haven't found a single hat/helmet i like, and since you can't hide them I just am not wearing any. It matters that much.

I posted the other day about bugs, every few hours I play I find new bugs. some require me to go back and reload a save others I honestly can’t tell if it’s a bug or just really poor development

there are several perks that don’t quite do what the description says, like the Anamesis perk. Based on reddit and trying it out it seems to just not do anything.

sometimes in car chase segments the passenger will say “look out” as cars spawn in my path and hit me. Can’t tell if that was deliberate or a pop in issue

Yeah I’ve just totally given up on doing pacifist things unless required by a mission. Given up on doing stealth too unless a mission objective, except for sneaking around to set up a fight.

:readmore:

the delemain car quest is fun. From the shock of the one going "beep beep motherfucker" and doing a hit and run to start it off, to the GLADOS car i see a lot of people talking about. It was fun to explore the city when i might have missed places like the landfill apparently there is follow up on T-bug's death if you go back to the quick hack shop in Kabuki. It's not much but better than nothing I made the pass with Panam of "what if the room just had one bed". I know she won't do a wlw romance, which is fine since I wouldn’t have chosen her. I enjoy her as a character, don’t get me wrong, my V considers her as a friend, but it seems like theres always drama going on which would be tiring. I would have gone for a fling, i like her leotard-pants combo with all the straps

but also her questline was buggy as hell. Multiple cases of having to reload due to clipping into objects, including her in a driving section, or just insta-dying when collision physics with some rocks broke "your neural network can no longer function independantly of the chip" me slapping my desk: s y m b i o te!!! come on lets have some s y m b i o s i s

in the scene with hellman i really liked how Johnny moved around the room. It made him feel like he was really there. it was hard to follow the convo as I left the room, i would not have understood it without subtitles. But i guess Takemura fucking waterboarded hellman. :|

lol I hope the dialogue is different b/c i refuse to smoke for Johnny

i am level 18 and still can't beat the first opponents in the fist fighting quest. ffs

I looked up the romances options so I went to do the I fought the law quest as soon as i got it. ACAB, but like I literally just met River Ward 2 minutes ago, and I really like him. His earring and cyborg eye, his big fluffy coat. I'm definitely gonna sleep with him Ok i like how when River Ward is dealing with the tiger claws if you interject it leads to a fight. It goes better if you follow his instructions and let him deal with it. Seriously I enjoy that sometimes its good to not pick a dialogue choice.

during the red queen club part, there was no dialogue over the phone. So i reloaded a save and got myself spotted and attacked. Then River showed up to help me <3 and it was more enjoyable having him there. I honestly am not sure if him not going to the club level is bug or not.

then uuuuuugh the worst of irl police "cops are my family" from Detective Han. Again ACAB "FRATERNITY OF CITY COPS RESEMBLES A [Nomad] CLAN NOT AT ALL" ok a few minutes ago i was complaining about bugs, but the character modeling in this game is good (when they're there). You can see body posture, characters jiggle their legs when they are nervous. Like I though character A was just throwing a cigarette on the ground, but then character B flinches back; I realize Char A threw it at B as a fuck you

I'm honestly curious if "I fought the Law" quest will have any impact later on. My choices were that I thought there was more going on than Holt being the only person behind this (based on how complicated the main questline heist is, and keeping an eye on some of the in game news), and told him not to take it to internal affairs, and I loved his response of how he doesn't give a shit what we think, he's doing it anyway.

In the elevator to report in, Johnny said "this muck is deeper than you think, tell them nothing", so i just said that the case was complicated. anyway i love how much of a sarcastic asshole V is

I thought i was being nonlethal with the monk quest, but it seems i accidently killed someone. RIP, but thats kind of the problem with this game. Like when i do the non lethal cyberpychosis quests I equip my non lethal modded gun and hope for the est. I like how a go here kill things quest led to Charles the ripperdoc. He's getting all his parts from scav gang members so I felt obligated to take him out. I got a police bounty for it but w/e.

I merged the Delemain fragments with the whole. Guess he's the meta now. (Side note: some of my favorite rvb fanfic plots are Ai consiousness/memory merging with the humans, so I’m having fun with this game and look foward to introspective fanfic)

Honestly Jonny made some good points, the fragments didn't deserve to die; but also destroying the core and freeing the fragments, they couldn't really function alone.

I was able to rescue Saul fine with stealth. Using cameras and the synapse overload really made it easy. Can't use the sniper rifle reward b/c I don't have the stats for it, and while it has a silencer the fact that it's a ricochette weapon and not a shoot through walls weapons, makes it not as good imo; and theres a legendary one that is stats free for only 100k.

Lol made a pass again at Panam, and she immediately shut me down. I then did Mitch's quest and I love every time someone tells V they area good person.

I hacked the operation carpe noctem shard, and wow the corporations are using ai to make people have cyberpsychosis, or something like that. What a shocker /s, I've played Deus Ex HR before

lol driving through the unifinished interstate, past the fight from Panam's first quest I found a "batcave" with a very nice car, and a manifesto written by "muckman'. But here's my complaint about the loot, there is a legendary top, but it had 16 armor. My current top has 84 armor, like why would i switch?? then later i found a bunker with soviet spies in it. Wild

Doing River's second quest, love the timing of as soon as you ask, why are we breaking in, someone shows up to tell you he got kicked off the force. It's funny how Johnny comments how maybe River's into you, and V just doubts Johnny's words. Love how the first kid asks River if I'm his girlfriend. also wow like oof both the second parts of Judy and River's quest are SUPER fucked UP!! oof like i stopped doing first person mode on the braindances for those quests as soon as i could, just made me too uncomfortable seeing that in first person.

DRIVING IN THE GAME IS BAD! nowhere is it more apparent than the sinnerman quest, which took me 3 times to get the driving section done, as cars spawned out of nowhere to hit me. Then when you restart, there is a bunch of dialogue it doesn't let you fast forward through. The rest of the Sinnerman questline is interesting. My V took every option to tell the dude that he was messed up, and what he was doing was wrong. idk, I was surprised how much dialogue there was that let you buy into his whole "forgiveness thing" and how there wasn't any real dialogue to call him the fuck out, that in seeking forgiveness he continues to do harm both emotional to the mother of the man he killed, but also that he got the husband killed via cop. The later follow up quest, I told him that what he is doing is crazy, studio is just going to profit off this vid. Then I refused to join him prayer, and told him fuck no i wasn't going to hammer him to the cross, or even watch. Yes, the man is scared of dying, and the corporation is exploiting him, but he keeps creating burdens for others. I think the discussion on this quest will be interesting to read, it's definitely my own personal experience with religion coloring my view. Anyway back to a main quest, yeah i don't trust Placide, especially in that scene where he grabs my hand, then jacks in. I ran off to do most of the sidequests here and got some criticism from him. I do love how in the cinema the western movie switches to a mission brief as the netwatch agent talks. its a fun enviromental detail. I took the netwatch offer, i don't think he's being fully honest with me, but he didn't put a virus in my head. As I told Placide later, I didn't pick a side. I like how you can then talk with the agent, who is a fan of Western movies, b/c they show "a simpler time where all good guys carry badges" :eyeroll:, and then V recommends Unforgiven, which from the wiki summary goes against that theme.

Looks like the Voodoo boys all got killed by Netwatch, but I as revenge for them trying to set me up I'm fine with it. Honestly after speaking with ai!Alt I don’t believe their plan of trying to be on good relations with AI would work.

doing the johnny flashback 2, and wow Johnny really is an asshole. Like I had gotten so used to him in side missions I forgot how self centered and unlikable he was.You constantly get prompts to drink or do drugs, which I ignored. But i do love the goth/punk love Rogue and others have.

lol i called it, when Hellman said that the engram would seek to override the host, put V on the engram. I really like how as the relic malfunctions, you wind up in the chair with a cigarette, which you can either smoke and say you are turning into Johnny or throw away. My dialogue "your problem is the ends justify the means", which is true!!! He and Rogue detonated a nuke downtown, does anyone know that, and like ask Rogue about it????

(Funny you can ask Rouge about Johnny silverhand, over the phone, then the game bugs out and spawns her npc where you are. She doens't say much about the nuke, but she does say no one trusts you for jobs). The line of no one trusting you for jobs is pretty funny at level 46 street cred where im at “respected” status. really loving the family atmosphere at River's 3rd quest. Also his big strong arms, and the fact he is no longer a cop. I totally let the kids win, and wow the family dinner where they GRILL YOU over the relationship and try to set the two of you up, then the water tower scene!!!!! I don't love the first person sex cutscenes but they do have personality. I'm glad afterwards you got to tell River about the biochip and that you might die. Because he's so far removed from your personal plot. So I took that option to back out of a relationship.

I do love that you wake up with "river's tanktop" that says "fuck the police" It actually has extremely good armor stats, so thats what I'll wear now.

panam 3rd quest, when shes like why did you help me, I'm like "because it's important to you". Basically the closest you can get to "when a friend asks for help you help them", which as an ex-nomad backstory I really choose the nomad options when ever i can Paralezes quest part 2! I love the piano song but I always think of it as ocean's 11 music. It's also fun to see the computer and see Judy recommended you for the first quest. The emails talk about "forgetting" to hire a staffer, on the balocony a strange antennia was scannable, the color of the roses was remembered wrong... lol guess i was right with those giant wall screens. Its fun environmental details that spell things out before you can notice, and it ties into some other quests where people's behavior is being altered. Actually, this quest "Dream On" I love it! For a while I've been like "wheres the illuminati conspiracy! Here it IS! I chose to follow Elisabeth's wishes and not tell her husband he was being brainwashed. In best case they program him to forget again, in worst case he ends up dead. The gaslighting Elisabeth described is CHILLING, her husband describes a vacation she can't remember and she doesn't know whose memories have been messed with. On your way to the plaza you get a call from someone/something that says the know exactly WHAT you are, any you black out!!! It's such a great feeling of helplessness that you're just one person in a world so big that you can't fight every power. As Johnny said, could be a corporation, could be a rogue ai, either way Jefferson is fucked (and so are you).

#cyberpunk 2077 #mac plays video games #a lot of this journaling i do #so in a few years i can look back #and see my first impressions

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lifeinahole27 · 5 years

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CS ff: “Love So Sweetly” (Part 2 of 2) (au)

Summary: If you ask either of them, they’ll both claim it isn’t their fault. It starts with feuding musicians, a pair of handcuffs, and the evolution a relationship can go through over the course of 24 hours.

Rating: M

Warnings: handcuffs?

A/N: My goodness. It’s finally finished. AND I had to bump the rating back DOWN for once. WTF is that?! Lol. Sorry all. This is a first in my book, too. Much love to all the usual players for their help, especially @phiralovesloki and @captainstudmuffin for their phenomenal beta and proofreading duties. And to the Discord ladies for putting up with the fact that I only pop in ever three days to randomly yell something and promptly fall asleep. Special side dedication goes to @let-it-raines for the most recent time I ran in and screamed something in there. LOL. All right - without further ado... I hope you all enjoy this!

Find it on Ao3 or FFN!

-x-

Trying to sprint after a hint of Granny was maybe not his brightest idea. Now he’s even more exhausted than he was before, and he can feel Emma dragging along beside him as they turn another corner to find it barren of all humanity.

It’s only then that he becomes aware of how quiet it’s gotten. This late at night, all of the stages are shut down and even the dance parties that sometimes happen after hours seem to be missing tonight, probably due to the lurking clouds in the distance. They’re deep in the campgrounds, and he can hear music drifting from some of the different tents and yurts, various styles and levels of skill, but gentle music surrounds them.

“Killian, we have to stop. I’m too tired. We’ll find her in the morning. Let’s just… head out.”

“Aye, love. Sorry we lost her again,” he grumbles, wanting nothing more than to sleep for days after the evening they’ve had.

“God, and all I have to look forward to after all of this is to figure out how we’ll both fit on my stupid bunk!” Emma grouses as they slowly wander through the campgrounds.

He blames the fact that the tent they’re passing has some spirited amorous activities going on it in for why it takes him so long to connect what she’s just said with their current predicament.

“You only have a bunk?” he asks with the rise of an eyebrow. He’d just assumed she was up in the swankier trailers on the top of the hill – it’s where all the other headliners seem to have congregated for the duration of the festival.

“Yeah,” she says distractedly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes shift over to the tent he’s been trying to avoid and her eyebrows go clear up to her hairline when she looks back at him. There’s a hint of a smile hiding in the corners of her mouth but she says nothing.

“On a bus?” he asks, trying to distract them both from a fireworks-worthy ending as they pass the lovers.

“Yeah,” she repeats a little harsher this time, and Killian suppresses the chuckle that comes unbidden. Her tone speaks of something more than frustration at the conversation, and while there’s a temptation to prod and see what responses he could elicit, he chooses the higher road. Well, sort of.

“Oh, love, for once I finally get the upper hand with you. Turn to your left up here. We’ll go find my humble abode.”

“Killian, I’m not sleeping on a pile of rocks in some flimsy tent.”

“Where on earth would you get the notion I was sleeping in a tent? Those things are bloody miserable. Unless you’re those people, of course.” He hitches his thumb at the tent that’s now almost out of view and he smiles.

“I just – “

“Assumed that’s where I would be staying with my much smaller named band?” He cuts in, more amused than offended, and takes charge in leading them away from the truly muddy path to the less-trodden grass around them. With a few searches for landmarks and a couple more turns, he gestures in front of them to the small yurt he’s rented out. “Behold! My pirate’s lair!”

“You take this pirate crap way too seriously, for one. Also, it’s not the exterior that counts, Jones. You said it yourself. I want to see the inside of this before I pass judgement.”

With a smug grin and a lift of his eyebrows, Killian unlocks the door and pushes it open, finding the switch for the lamp next to the door to bathe the area in a soft glow. Emma whimpers at the sight, clearly seeing their sleeping arrangements for the evening as acceptable.

“Bed,” she whispers, following automatically as Killian pulls her in the rest of the way and shuts the doors behind them. From outside, the soft sounds of rain begin, and Killian is thankful they didn’t have to do another soggy dash to safety this time.

He secures the latch from the inside and goes to move towards the bed, only to realize they’re still fully clothed. With one tap of his boot to hers, Emma snaps out of it and struggles to unstick the zippers from the mud that’s begun to cake them. Killian kicks off his own before holding her steady as she balances to pry each one of hers off in turn.

Funny, when he had originally decided to full-on rent a yurt, it was for the idea of bringing back a lady friend for a night or two. He had no idea this was going to be the end result.

There’s a hidden intimacy in the delicate dance they do in the doorway, trying to ready themselves for sleep when they are both so far outside their comfort zones. He imagines, suddenly, the context being different as she brushes an errant strand of hair off her face and waits for him to grab the lamp from its hook and lead her over.

He looks disparagingly down at the both of them, but reasons with himself that the bedding is all old stuff specifically brought along in case it gets dirty, so it doesn’t exactly matter. What matters is that there’s an inexpensive mattress and pillows and they’re finally about to relax for the first time since either of them woke up yesterday morning.

“Phone,” he says, holding out his free hand to her. When she doesn’t automatically do anything, Killian smiles patiently. “I have a power pack that’s fully charged. And I have any type of cord you need. Surely after a day of running around, you’ll need a charge, yeah?”

She grumbles out some response, digging her phone out of a pocket on the side of her leggings and handing it over. They both shift to the side for a moment so he can plug in their phones and set down the lantern on the side he reasons he’ll be sleeping on.

They do another shuffle to get to where they’ll need to be in order to get into the bed before they both collapse onto the foot of the bed, pushing up and maneuvering until they’re under the covers. Side by side, they both exhale in relief as their heads hit the pillows. Emma, in a fit of wanting to be comfortable, insists on removing her leggings, and Killian endures the five-minute process of having his shoulder jolted until she’s happy.

The leggings get tossed off the side of the bed, and then he makes her go through the same thing as he pulls off his jeans. He could’ve withstood wearing them, but if she’s going to make herself at home, he’s going to do the same.

“Thanks,” Emma says quietly, after they’re both settled. “And I mean, for everything. Not just the bed. This could’ve been a disaster, but it hasn’t been the worst day I’ve ever had.”

“Same to you, love.” He pauses, taking the opportunity to roll on his side the best he can to look over at her. When she shifts as well, they both bring their hands up to tuck under their pillows. It leaves them practically nose to nose with the length of the chain.

“Your first festival, huh?

“Aye, and it was luck we got into this spot.”

“How long had you been trying?”

“This was the third attempt. The only reason we got the invite is because another band double booked for the weekend and since they’d participated a few times in the past at this one, they decided to give up their invitation.”

“It took us four tries before we made it in, and that first year, Regina was here to see another band. Once she saw us, she signed us almost immediately and the band took off. I still can’t believe it sometimes.”

“You’re a hero, Swan. I’ve seen your fans. They adore you.”

“Yeah, well, so are you. I got to see that firsthand today.”

He has no response to that, other than a flustered shrug. It’s a risk to reveal too much – he knows this, and yet, he can’t stop himself from telling her more. “You know, I rather fancy you when you’re not yelling at me.”

“Yeah?”

He hums out affirmation, letting his eyes roam over her facial features and take in all the details he’s seen in pictures. There’s different flecks of colors in her eyes that the photos just can’t capture, and he watches the faint light dance there. Her laugh lines are peeking out with the way she’s barely smiling. Barely, but still…

“Good,” she says after a moment. It’s like permission and acceptance all at once. He watches her eyes start to flutter, her body finally succumbing to the length of their day. “Goodnight, Killian.” Her quiet sentiments drift through the space between them, and he’s overtaken again by the urge to kiss her. It would be so easy, but it would mean so much more than just one night at this point.

“Sweet dreams, Swan.”

With no further preamble, he finds the switch for the lantern and flips it. It doesn’t take her long to fall asleep, and Emma is a turbulent sleeper as he soon finds out. She ends up wrapped around him shortly after her breathing evens out. Her head rests near his shoulder, and he’s thankful for the still darkness surrounding them. Unable to sleep, the best he can do is hold his breath every time she shifts and twitches next to him.

As the night chills further, he’s thankful for Emma’s improvised pullover. Or step-into. It was quite the ridiculous process but she never seemed cold from that point forward, so he’s pretty sure it was a total success. Now, that same item is keeping him warm as the summer temperatures fluctuate to their low.

Finally, after what seems like hours, Killian’s body fully relaxes and he slips into sleep, unintentionally pulling Emma closer as they both flutter through their dreams. He’s surprised then, to be awoken shortly after that, after he’d already entered a dream where they held hands without being locked together.

It’s way too early when Emma shakes him awake, and the space around them is still dark in pre-dawn bliss.

“I’m sorry,” she says when he finally wrenches open his eyes. “I have to use the bathroom.”

She’s so close, her breath fanning across his neck when she speaks, and he feels the sleepy surge of want roll through him. Instead, he clears his throat and rubs at his eyes, trying to push away the image in his head of kissing her until they both forget about the calls of their bodies.

With a yawn, Killian waves away her apology and motions her to follow him out of the bed so he can grab a pair of track shorts to slip into. He’s shoving his feet into a pair of sneakers when he turns and sees Emma, one sock lost to the covers and her legs bare. The sweatshirt from the day prior falls just to her thighs, and he swallows hard as his eyes trail back up the length of her body to meet her eyes.

“Would you like, um, for the walk?” He holds up a pair of clean boxers from his stock, trying hard to stop from transfixing on her legs some more.

She shakes her head, seemingly unaware or totally uncaring of her half-dressed state as she rips the second sock from her right foot and slips back into her boots. It’s an utterly ridiculous outfit – boots up to her knees and sweater only, from appearances, but suddenly Killian has to go through chords in his mind as he wills his body to stay neutral to the woman beside him.

“Let’s go,” she says, waiting just long enough for him to secure the lock on the outside before they wander off in search of a better bathroom than the portaloo experiences they had yesterday. All of the trips were necessary but always very uncomfortable.

After a few turns, they can see the VIP section at the top of a hill, and Killian sighs in relief. This will have stalls, where they can both stand inside, even if that’s slightly more awkward. At least they’ll be clean, with running sinks. They start the trek upward, but it doesn’t take long before Killian’s shoe loses grip on the incline.

“Oh, son of a –“

“Hey, whoa!”

The moment his footing is gone, so is Emma’s, and the both of them slide back down on their hands and knees. They stay there for a moment, the shock and the exhaustion just weighing on them for a moment.

“Fuck,” Emma exhales.

It takes three more attempts for them to get up the hill, and it’s with no lack of attitude that Emma fishes her badge out from beneath the hoodie and swipes them into one of the trailers reserved for those with the clearance for them.

First comes rinsing off their hands to avoid getting mud in places they really wouldn’t want it, and then business, of course. He hums a medley of Beatles tunes to keep them both distracted from the situation. They switch spots when she’s done, and they hum together through the last of his turn. It’s as they’re washing all their collective hands when Emma realizes there’s a shower stall where he initially thought there was another accessible toilet. She nudges him, directing his gaze with a nod in that direction.

They hadn’t come up with a plan, not really, but this might be able to get them minimally less muddy before they get back to his accommodations. There’s also some splattered along the braid that Ruby twisted her hair into sometime after their set.

“You can go first, if you’d like,” he tells her, motioning toward the potential of being clean.

She’s slowly picking at the safety pins holding the jumper on her shoulder, but something is holding her back. For once, their hands swing un-joined between them, but as she considers something, her pinkie finger reaches out and brushes against his.

“I mean,” she starts, her eyes focusing on anything but him. “It would be easier if we were in there together.” For a moment, he thinks that yeah, it would be easier if they got in there together. And her fingers slowly slide against his, her thumb brushing along his as she shifts a little closer.

When the words and their meaning finally sink through his sleep-addled brain, Killian snorts. “Why, Emma Swan, did you just proposition me to shower with you?” He tugs at their joined hands to bring her attention back to him, and there he finds several emotions flickering through her expression.

She wants; that much is plain to see just by looking. She’s uncertain, and he doesn’t blame her. It’s a bit of a risk to sleep with someone you’re undeniably stuck with, and sometimes a risk to sleep with someone you can immediately walk away from. What strikes him most is that her eyes reflect a level of passion he was not expecting. When she looked at him at the end of their set, she set his blood pumping harder than it had been from performing. Now to see it reflected back is quite the unexpected turn.

“If you don’t think you can handle it…”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one that couldn’t handle it,” Killian counters, his eyebrow flicking up in challenge. This is it. This will be the moment that decides their course of action. Much like the anticipation during their disagreement, he waits for her next move.

And wait he does; Emma stands there immobile for what feels like hours before she yanks him down by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. She crowds him into the outer chamber of the shower, shoving the door shut behind them as she angles her head for a kiss deeper and stronger than the last.

He has kissed all sorts of women in his lifetime, but one thing is startlingly clear very quickly: Killian Jones has never kissed a woman like Emma Swan, and he could spend the rest of his life trying to recapture the way she feels and never again find it.

There’s heat and desire in the way she moves against him, and Killian will blame it on the sleep deprivation that he doesn’t consider the thousands of outcomes this moment might have. Instead, he’s intent on pulling the band from the end of Emma’s braid and slowly unwinding the thick plait with his free hand. Their joined arms are caught between their bodies, hands clasped tightly as they dive deeper into the kiss.

Removing clothing is quite the obstacle. They work together to unpin the sweater from her shoulder, leaving it hanging from one of the hooks in the small dressing space outside of the actual shower.. The stall itself is pristine, likely unused by any of the festival participants if the walls are still this sparkling white, so neither of them take much issue with kicking off their shoes and stepping into the vinyl area after removing as much as they can. His shirt, for instance, ends up balled up along the chain, along with the top she’s wearing. His now-muddy shorts end up with their shoes, water be damned.

It’s not everything – it could be but there’s some unspoken agreement between them that it’s just not feasible right now. They’re down to just underwear, but it doesn’t leave anything to the imagination as they both find each other under the steady-but-unimpressive spray of water falling down on them. He wants to look, but he’s more interested in the way Emma’s mouth fits against his, and the way the slick skin of her back feels beneath his palm.

Their shower is stilted, interrupted by intimate touches and wandering hands, as well as figuring out the logistics of how to hold their joined arms so the clothing they can’t get rid of doesn’t weigh them down. They do the best they can, though, and struggle to dry off with the towels provided. They wring out their shirts from where they still got wet, and Killian balls up his shorts with her sweatshirt to take back to the yurt. It’ll be cold outside but if they hustle, they’ll be warm again soon enough. With as much as necessary back in place, they push out into the predawn light hand in hand.

They carefully pick their way across the campgrounds to stay as close to clean as they can. As they walk, Emma hums a familiar tune, and Killian does his best to find the harmony as she continues. It speaks volumes more than anything they could say; he resists the urge to sing the lyrics as they fit the circumstances just a little too well.

My honey I know with the dawn that you will be gone. But tonight, you belong to me...

The sun is just barely cresting over the horizon, but that doesn’t dissuade them from shutting the door to the rented space, locking themselves away from the outside world for just a few hours more.

They may currently be chained together, but Killian genuinely has no idea where the next day will take them. This far in, this far deep, he knows he may walk away with a heartache if it all fell apart in the light of day.

-x-

While everything had remained dormant on their trip back to the yurt, Emma is pleased when Killian is already meeting her halfway when she turns to him inside the door. With impatient movements, they leave their shoes by the door, and she urges him to drop the clothes he’s still holding. They make their way back to the bed, and Emma crawls into his lap and presses their linked hands into the mattress by Killian’s head as her mouth turns greedy.

She wants him bare, she wants all of him, dammit, and he growls into the kiss as if he knows this as she fists her free hand in his hair to hold him steady against her, their lips devouring. She wants, wants, wants, but Killian pulls back for a moment, halting her in her tracks.

“Emma, before this goes any further, I have to know that you’re sure about this.”

The fact that he asks makes Killian one of the most considerate men she’s ever gone to bed with. Here she is, in his lap, half-naked, chained to him, and he’s still willing to give it all up if she just says the word.

There’s some part of her that almost takes the out: this could get weird. They’re likely going to be spending the rest of this festival together if they can’t get ahold of Granny tomorrow. Not that there’s much more festival to contend with. After their set in the afternoon, her obligations are completed. She could always get him back to Storybrooke and get Billy to cut off the cuffs if she has to.

And in the meantime, she thinks, here Killian is beneath her, the hard length of his cock pressed almost exactly where she wants it to be. She doesn’t have to sleep with him, she knows this, but they can certainly have some fun. Any guy willing to track down the best onion rings at the festival for her is worthy of that, in her opinion.

Something suddenly clicks in her mind, something about the food from yesterday. “Killian,” she says, her eyes trained on his. “How did you know about the onion rings? How did you know to offer me that specific food?”

It’s equal parts totally endearing and hilarious to watch Killian’s face turn red. Right to the tips of his ears and down his neck are all a tomato red she never anticipated and he blinks several times in surprise.

“Lucky guess,” he says, but it’s a lie. She can tell just by the intonation, by the way his eyes flutter so he’s not fully meeting her gaze.

“Try again.”

He sighs, shifting his focus away from her and looking somewhere at the top of the yurt. When he does speak, it’s muttered, and she has the distinct feeling that he’s hoping she can’t hear him in the quiet stillness of the solitary space. But oh, she hears him loud and clear. “Everyone knows that Emma Swan’s favorites are grilled cheese and onion rings, and hot chocolate depending on the weather. With cinnamon,” he adds at the very end, finally chancing a look at her again.

This is the first time he’s openly admitted that he’s one of her fans – in fact, when they started arguing yesterday about whatever it was that started the argument, she was sure he was totally oblivious to who she was.

“You follow me on Instagram?”

His face morphs into something distinctly mortified, but she doesn’t wait for him to answer. Instead, she bites her lip to stop the laugh that wants to escape and leans down to kiss him again. She pushes all thoughts of his previous knowledge of her to the back of her mind, instead focusing on the way his tongue is tracing along her top row of teeth before he suddenly sits up. His free arm wraps around her waist to hold her steady as he pulls her down hard against him and she gasps at the sensation.

There’s a startling thought in her mind that she could get used to this - the push and pull of who has control. They shift the dominance often enough that her stomach swoops every time he gains it back, knowing he’ll turn to putty in her arms again in a matter of moments. There’s no chance they’ll be able to be naked for this experience, so they come to a mutual understanding that they’ll take what they can get. This can be good enough, because it has to be for now.

The real question is whether or not the “for now” part will turn into “to be continued” for them. Where the thought even comes from is beyond her, but just as suddenly, their future possibilities flee her mind because Killian lines up perfectly, his erection pressing through their underwear to slide just right against her clit and her breath hitches as she buries her head against his neck, letting her teeth graze along his skin to taste and tease.

With the blood rushing in her ears, it takes her a while to grasp that Killian is repeating her name like a mantra, perfectly timed with his thrusts, and she can feel how close the both of them are by the tension in his shoulders and the way she’s clutching tightly to any part of him she can. And then she’s there, climax quick but powerful, her thighs shaking as she sits astride his lap, and she cries out softly against him as she holds on tight. It doesn’t take more than a few more thrusts until he’s following behind her, his body going rigid for a few seconds before he coaxes her head back to kiss her again.

“You’re a bloody marvel, Swan.”

His voice, his smile, the sincere look in his eyes – it’s all too much and not enough all at once and Emma closes her eyes to kiss him again, suddenly terrified of what this all means. She hasn’t felt like this in so long, and not just the boneless pleasure of a good orgasm. Killian is the first person who hasn’t dangled her fame in her face or used that as the badge to get into bed with her. It strikes her again that it took nearly the length of a whole day for him to even admit he was a fan prior to their meeting.

All of a sudden, she’s exhausted, dealing with both the physical toll their last day has had on her and the emotional toll that she just did that with him, and so she lets Killian shift her to stand and shuffle them around until he can reach his stash of clothes. This time, she accepts the boxers he hands her in favor of swapping out her underwear. They stand side-by-side, changing in tandem, and they both seem to respect the unsaid rule of no peeking.

She doesn’t have a chance to overanalyze after that; Killian leads her back to the bed, going so far as to maneuver in a way that he’s pressed against her back, their clasped hands nestled against her chest. She’s asleep in no time again, lulled by the sound of whatever Killian is humming and the gentle pressure of his lips against her shoulder.

She wakes to the sound of their phones both ringing. She’s so tired, though, that she reaches out with her right hand and stops short when she realizes it’s still attached to Killian’s left. She grunts, then, switching hands as Killian stirs, murmuring something about shutting off their alarms as he burrows into her hair.

Without looking, she silences the ringtone and lets her arm fall back to the bed. Of course, the ringing starts right back up and Emma finally wrenches open one eye enough to look at the caller ID on her screen. She flicks at the screen, accepting the call and shoving the phone against her ear.

“What?”

“Emma, ping your damn location right now so Granny can get those cuffs off. We play in two hours. Do you hear me? Two hours.”

It takes a couple minutes for Ruby’s rushed words to connect in her brain, and then Emma’s gasping, sitting up in a tangle of arms and not even paying attention as Ruby rants on while still connected.

“I’ll ping it,” she blurts out, hurrying to end the call so she can share her location with her friend in order for her to locate the yurt in the camp. “Killian, get up,” Emma urges. She shakes him the best she can, turning in their pretzel to face him and leaning down to press her lips against his frantically. “Hey, wake up!”

He seems much happier to rejoin the land of the living when she’s kissing him, but it can’t last. She has to hurry. Besides, the intimacy of that move after such a short period of time has her rattled more than she expected it would. There’s a part of her that wants to just keep kissing him, wants to stay in this bed in this little cocoon they’ve created for themselves. And while she knows she could have that, theoretically...

“We’re about to have company,” she tells him, finally breaking through his sleep haze.

“Somebody to join for a threesome, then?”

She smacks his shoulder for that, biting her lip against the chuckle that wants to break out. “No, unless you want me to step outside while you and Granny have a good time,” she says. His eyes pop open at that.

“Oh, then we’re getting out of jail?” He lifts the chain for emphasis before he struggles to sit up. They scramble off the bed like that, and Killian unlatches the door just in time for a golf cart with Granny and Ruby to pull up right outside.

“Finally! Have a good night, lovebirds?” Ruby’s already dressed, her make-up and hair impeccable, and her smile is wide and bright. “Here,” she says, leaning off the cart to hand them the key and handing it back to Granny when they’ve each unlatched the offending metal.

Emma and Killian both take a moment to rub at their wrists before Ruby interrupts to remind Emma they’re on a deadline.

“Sure, of course, gimme just a minute, okay?”

The way Ruby’s eyebrow raises up is all Emma needs and she gives her friend a pointed look while slipping back just inside the door to find her leggings and boots. She wraps her sadly dirty hoodie around her waist before she looks at Killian.

“Well, I guess this eliminates the need to find another song to duet today,” she remarks, trying to put some humor into the moment. He does chuckle, but it’s dry and solemn.

“Aye, but that’s okay. You’ll enjoy your show more when you’re able to move around without me holding you back.”

There’s something in the way he says it that punches at her heart despite the way he smiles when he says it. So it’s only natural that she’d soothe that statement with a kiss. This one is a tinge desperate and apologetic because she’s about to dash away for her own performance and they’ve just left everything a giant question mark.

“I’ll see you around,” she breathes out, a smile tilting up her lips as she runs her fingers along the back of his ear, her thumb playing with his earring for just a second. Without further ado, she plants one last kiss directly on his lips and darts out the door. She does her best to not look back and instead focuses on the day ahead of them.

Ruby’s words are ringing through her brain as they speed back to the bus where Emma can shower and change. She flashes through the water as fast as she can, only cleaning her body and leaving her hair naturally wavy as it dried last night.

“Is Killian coming to watch?” Mary Margaret asks from her left as Emma painstakingly applies her makeup. Her hands are shaking, just the tiniest bit. It’s probably the lack of sleep, and so she pauses from applying her eyeshadow to take another deep gulp of the coffee that they had waiting for her.

“I don’t know,” she answers, trying for a dismissive tone. She doesn’t have the mental capacity to deal with anything surrounding that topic right now so she hopes that Mary Margaret drops it. Her hand shakes a little more and she takes a steadying breath before swiping on her eyeliner as carefully as she can. With practiced speed, she coats her lashes in mascara and stands, giving herself one last look.

If there’s a word to describe how she feels she looks right now, it’s “softer.” It’s more than just the hair and the lack of false eyelashes. The outfit she’s wearing is the same as she would always go on stage with. The jeans are practically painted on, her backup boots are up to her calves, and the tank top she’s wearing flows freely around her torso to give her room to breathe. So she guesses it must be something about her expression, about the small smile that won’t go away no matter how stern she tries to look as she makes one last fix to her lipstick.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Emma says, giving Mary Margaret the broadest smile she can manage as she picks up her leather jacket from the back of her chair. She doesn’t need it, not really, but it’s like armor to her. Her friend looks at her carefully, tilting her head to the side for a moment and raising her eyebrow like she’s also trying to puzzle out the difference in Emma’s demeanor. But she just smiles, holding out her hand to take Emma’s as they leave the bus and join Ruby and Mulan outside.

It’s an easy trip to the main stage, with security leading the way and Mulan assisting. It helps that they’re not making a mad dash to the other side of the festival, and that she’s not being yanked in a thousand directions. Twice now, she’s caught herself reaching for a hand that isn’t there, though.

She is surprised to find a bit of a crowd in their backstage section. There’s David with his charming smiles and supportive words, extending beyond the woman he is so clearly enamored with. And Robin and Regina are actually standing less than five inches apart which is closer than she’s ever seen her manager standing to anyone else. There’s a suspicious lack of their third, however, and Emma stifles her disappointment best she can. She wants to ask, even opens her mouth to question David, but they’re being ushered on to the stage and he gives her a shrug and a final call of encouragement.

It’s all come down to this, Emma thinks - the lights are blaring even though it’s a bright and sunny day. She’s glad she left her leather jacket back stage because she’d already be roasting if she had it on. With that in mind, she pulls deeply from the water bottle she brought with her and turns to her bandmates for the start of their show. More than once, she can hear a yell from a fan about the lack of Killian on stage, and she tries to laugh it off.

“Sorry, folks. This is a solo-Emma adventure,” she says, forcing a smile on her face when a sudden wave of loneliness comes over her.

It goes so quickly from that point forward. She takes up her guitar when it’s called for, sits down at the keyboard for one or two songs, and grabs the ukulele she uses for just two of their songs right before they make it to the halfway mark of their set.

They finish the first of those songs to wild applause and cheers, and Emma smiles as she takes the microphone off the stand. It isn’t until she brings it back up to her mouth that she realizes it’s her left hand, her right arm still dangling at her side despite her natural inclinations. She even put back on the stupid wristband that he bought them to stop the cuffs from chafing their skin. She huffs out a chuckle, closing her eyes and smiling while Ruby and Mary Margaret wait for her cue to start the next song.

She looks back to them, seeing Ruby tilt her head to call her over. Emma clips her mic back on the stand and wanders over, away from the amplifying devices. “Mulan told me that a bunch of the fans have been asking about Killian. They’d heard about some kind of publicity thing with handcuffs and were excited to see it in person.”

“Should I --?”

“Yes,” Ruby says, and Mary Margaret echoes from five feet away where she can tell what’s being said. Emma groans with nerves, bouncing on the balls of her feet for a second before going back to her place.

“I seem to have exorcised my demon too soon,” Emma says thickly into her microphone. “Turns out he may have grown on me a little. So Killian, this next song is for you.”

This wasn’t the next song on their set - not one she’s ever played in public. They mostly stick to their own original works, but sometimes she finds the best way to express herself is using someone else’s music and lyrics instead. The chords and words of “Tonight You Belong to Me” are ones she knows by heart, and it echoes their early morning trip back from the bathrooms where he hummed along right with her. Ruby and Mary Margaret both hang back, instead letting her solo with the ukulele.

When the final note rings out, the crowd cheers, the frenzied yells making her freely laugh. She glances to the side of the stage and sees both David and Robin frantically trying to text. Mulan is recording the whole thing, as she’s sure a lot of the audience members are. It’s not every day fairytales come true, apparently. Now to just hope it works.

It all gives her courage to chant the syllables of his name so they’ll all catch on. If his band members can’t get a hold of him, maybe the entire main stage can. Mary Margaret and Ruby follow suit, wide smiles on their faces as their voices join in over the sound system. She has no idea if he’s even going to hear her, hear them, but she has to try. For once in her life, she wants things to work out.

It’s astonishing to hear all these people chanting his name, and Emma can’t fight the smile that’s breaking out as she keeps it up. Not knowing if he can hear her, or if he’s on his way, or what his progress is if he is on his way, she takes a bit of a chance.

“Killian, if you can hear us, I want that second duet, after all.”

It’s like a tidal wave when it happens: the cheers start in the back - the very, very back - and she watches as the wide crowd parts little by little and the cheers get louder and closer. If she tries, she can see the figure that’s moving them, his hand shooting up once when he’s halfway back to show the matching wrist band. She watches with ever-growing fascination as he moves through the audience. As the ripples of awareness travel upwards, they move easier and suddenly he’s sprinting towards them, a look of pure determination on his face.

It takes some help from the security at the front, but then he’s there in front of her, breathless but smiling, his left hand reaching for her right to link their fingers together.

“So you missed me then, love?”

“Shut up and sing with me,” she says, smiling as he inches a little closer.

“May I kiss you hello first?”

To this, she doesn’t respond. She reaches for his t-shirt and pulls him closer, leaning up on her toes to kiss him and then laughing through it when the whole crowd goes wild behind him. “Now can we sing?” she asks.

“Aye, love. What’s your choice?”

“You know ‘Always By Your Side’?”

He flushes in clear answer to her question, and Emma smiles. It’s the first single that made it onto the radio, and even more fitting now given where they began the day.

“Good. Also? You wouldn’t have held me back, just so you know,” she says away from the microphone. There’s more to be said - this isn’t where their conversation is even close to ending - but he ducks his head in a surprisingly bashful nod. They’ll have time to discuss it all later when they’re not ticking down their stage time.

The videos of their duet on the main stage end up going viral. There are pictures everywhere of them singing, eyes locked together, matching smiles on their faces. He posts a shot of their joined hands on Instagram later that he simply captions “Best festival ever” underneath, with an emoji of chains afterwards.

The next year, when they’re both invited back, they’re booked back to back on the mainstage with one act melding into the other as they sing together to close out one set and open the next. The year after that, he posts the same picture of their hands linked together, but Emma’s left hand is clasped over top of their joined ones, the ring just catching the sparkle of the dim light of their festival lodgings. His caption this time reads “Amendment: THIS was the best festival ever.”

And really? She can’t disagree with him on that one bit.

#cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan ff #sarah writes ff #holy fuck it's done #after almost three fucking years

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coffee-mugz · 5 years

Text

The Galeo (Sanders Sides FF) Part 2

*unedited*

Part one/Chapter 1

As the day continued to pass, the sun began to set. However, the warm oranges and pale red lit in the sky paled in comparison to Roman's scales, which attractd much more attention now that the skies were dim.

Small children gasped in aw upon seeing the glowing scales, touching the glass and even taking pictures. Roman smiled at each one, waving at each child who spared a glance at him, even posing for selfies other folks requested.

He continued this for hours, completely exhausted and yet still swimming around and acting energetic. He was only given a break when the sky turned dark, the colors faded, and the stars could be seen high above them.

And that time was right now.

"Roman," his owner called out to him as he jumped out of the tank, landing with two feet instead of a tail, his hair magically dry. The clothes he wore were soaking wet, as he put them on in the tank before hopping out.

" Yes, sir?" Roman answered, jumping back in shock as a bag of coins were tossed into his hands.

"Sir...?" He muttered, staring at the bag full of silver coins with a few gold coins tossed in there. That's a lot of money- more than be expected.

(How the money works=

copper coins: lowest value, often used for street food, bread, or small accessories like earrings or bracelets. Also commonly used and known to be change.

Silver coins: mid value, most common. Used for food in average restaurants, clothing, most store items, some small rent/bills, as well as most gear for adventurers.

50 copper coins= 1 silver coin

Gold coins: highest value. Used for paying rent/bills, purchasing high level equipment, buying food in fancy restaurants, some furniture such as beds, purchasing land, buying refined gemstones, jewelry, luxury clothing.

50 silver coins= 1 gold coin.

Coin Credit (also known as CC or a CC account):

Can put large amounts of coins in to the account so you don't have to carry the heavy coins everywhere. Usable through phone screen or card.

CC (example): Gold:0 Silver: 0 Copper: 0

Galeo CC (also known as GC or GC Account):

Only for Galeo, works the same as normal CC accounts except there is a much higher security level. Usable through Phone screen or card.

Some humans can have the same level of security, however it costs them money unlike Galeo.

Perfect Galeo CC ( known as PGC or a PGC account): highest security level, nobody except Perfect Galeo can have this level of security. Usable only with fingerprint scan (all stores and stalls are required to have one).

Shows credit the same way as others, but the background design can be customized.

Finally, done.)

"I'm no longer your owner. The GRH took you in, and they want you there by the end of the week. That's your pay for the month. You did a good job." The man patted a hand against Roman's back.

"Wait- the GRH? But that means I can't- why?" Roman panicked. He can't retire now! He still wants to compete! How could this have happened!?

"Don't worry, boy," the man said, speaking confidently. "The one that wants you will allow you to compete again if you really want to. I'm sorry I couldn't, the restaurant got more crowded than I could have ever imagined. Go take your break."

Roman nodded, his brain processing the information. So...this owner only didn't take him to competitions because the restaurant got too busy?

Roman left after saying his thanks, and walked towards his rented small house. It was nearby luckily, only a couple of streets away. Looks like he has to make a call to the owner of the house tomorrow.

___________________________________________

The next morning, Roman is all packed up. He bought a few boxes in the middle of the night, as strange as it must've been to the last few remaining stores willing to sell them to him.

Everything besides the furniture was packed neatly in the box, so much so that even Roman was suprised.

But that moment didn't last any longer, as he heard the horses hooves click and clack against the stone streets, and the bumps coming from the wagon outside the house and a firm three knocks on the door.

"Moving company! Is this Roman Stancy?"

Roman sighed aloud. His last name wasn't Stancy, for the last time! That's his breeder's last name! His last name he inherited from his mother's maiden name was Pristey! Roman. Pristey. (Pronounced Pry-stee)

"Yes, yes! Come in!" He unlocked the door, seeing a handful of men and women dressed in the same uniform. Light blue shirt, pants, hat, the only different were the shoes which ranged from white to brown to black and to blue.

"I prefer you not use my breeder's last name. It's Pristey. Jeez, I really need to change that legally."

"Sorry, that was the name listed. So, Mr. Pristey, are you moving the furniture as well?" A polite man asked, and Roman smiled. That's the first time somebody called him Mr. Pristey.

"No, just the boxes. But be careful with the green ones- all my plates and cups are there." Roman stepped aside, allowing the crew of workers to start moving his stuff. And like he said, instead of one person handling the green box like all the others, three people did.

He liked this moving company already. He originally only called them because it was the first one to appear on the most reccomend list, but now he knows why they were rated the best.

The last one he hired destroyed a whole box of plates and cups, and he had to do everything with a bowl for a solid week. Drinking coffee in a bowl was an odd experience.

And just like that, he was off to go to the GRH.

___________________________________________

Patton had just gotten back from work, and unlike earlier in the day, his attitude seemed a little deflated.

The volunteer workers asked him what was wrong- the Patton they knew didn't get sad often, so they wondered what the cause was.

"Nothing, I just saw another Galeo at that pet shop in the same tank. Her scales are beautiful, too." Patton clenched his fist. He would have bought them if he could, give them enough money to live properly and help them get a job and stable life, he would for all of them. If only he could.

Galeo are expensive, they really are. The price she was selling at was currently 25 gold coins. That's expensive even for a Galeo. Most are about 5-20, depending on it's genetics, attitude and such. The only one he saw selling any higher were ones that had a huge chance of winning the I.C. (International Competition).

The workers could only sigh. While, yes, people are doing what they could for Galeo thrown away, they can't exactly stop Galeo abuse quite yet. They are working on passing a law for it, though, as well as giving them equal rights, but at this moment, controversy is common about the topic.

But, one of the workers permed up. "Patton," she grinned, "today the new Galeo is coming."

Patton blinked once, and then twice, and then his eyes sparked with joy.

"Really? Today?!" He jumped up from his depressed state. While they knew it was temporary, it was better than watching him down in the dumps for hours.

"Yep! The other one is coming in two days late due to.....complicated reasons." She sighed, remembering his crazy outburst the first time they tried transferring him from the Otzzie Breeding estate to here.

"No! Don't you dare move me ten inches from here! I'm not leaving him alone you dirt brains!"

"Please! It's for the best-"

"SHUT! UP! Insignificant human beings- I'm not leaving without him! Are you that idiotic! Am I not coherent?"

"But you have to come by th-"

"Silence! The odds of me going unacompanied by him are infinitesimal! Go on and leave us! Either that or arrange for V to come with me!"

"What happened?" Patton asked, hearing her sigh.

"We are currently fighting to have another Galeo retire....as he refuses to come without him. We have the court's favor, because there are signs of him being abused, but Mr. Otzzie has quite a firm grip on him. Of course he does..."

"Why? Tell me! Please?" Patton begged.

"Because....he..." she hesitated to tell him.

"Pleaaaassseeee?" Patton used his puppy dog eyes, and the worker could only look away and sigh once more.

"Let's just say...he's very important." She replied, telling herself that it was his decision to tell other people. After all...

Not all Perfect Galeo want the spotlight.

To be continued....

Sorry it's a bit short, the next one will be longer!

#roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #galeo series #sanders sides #sanders side fic #fantasy #gay #prinxiety #logicality #fantasy au

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purpleswans1 · 5 years

Text

Izuku’s Feud with the Yakuza

Another addition to my Villain!Izuku AU. For Villain Month day 11. The prompt is redemption, but I think I used the prompt very liberally... BTW this is the second time I’ve posted this section, I wasn’t able to format the original correctly, and my computer complained every time I tried to edit it to add links.

Read also on FF and AO3

It all started with what was supposed to be an easy robbery.

Izuku had noticed a certain casino with an unusual security system. He’d suspected that it had some less-than-legal activities going on behind closed doors, but didn’t consider the implications of that until it was too late.

A couple of days before they planned to rob the casino, Toga had stealthily extracted blood from a random businessman. It was just a small syringe, small enough that the target wouldn’t notice what the girl who bumped into him was doing, but large enough to get the blood Toga would need for 2 hours of transformation.

Now, Toga was walking towards the seedy casino disguised as the businessman, pretending that she was stressed and wanted to gamble.

“Just got my paycheck, now all I need is to play the odds and I’ll get enough to retire!” She gruffly told the man in line behind her.

“I thought I told her to stay inconspicuous,” Izuku said even though there was no way for Toga to hear him. “We don't want them to notice anything is different, and we definitely don’t want them paying attention to her.”

“She’ll be fine,” Uraraka insisted. “Toga’s used to this kind of stuff.”

“I know, I know.” Izuku said. “Just remind me to get her some inconspicuous communication device for her to wear so I can give her instructions when she’s on missions like this.”

Dabi raised his eyebrows. “You mean like a cell phone? We’re already using that.”

He was right. The audio Izuku was currently hearing came from Toga’s phone, which she had called Izuku with before they started. Izuku’s phone was currently on mute.

“I mean like an earpiece,” Izuku explained. “I may make one hidden as an earring, but I’d prefer one that was either invisible or flesh-colored.”

Around that time, Toga wandered into the casino and started to scope out the place. Izuku had told her to find the security room, where all the security and bank information would be. There wasn’t a door directly in the back, but there was a side door that wasn’t as well decorated as the other doors, so she decided to start with that one.

The door opened to stairs leading down. Toga followed the stairs to the bottom, where she saw a crowd of people surrounding a large metal cage. She couldn’t see what was going on, but there were a lot of growling sounds. To the side, she saw several dogs packed into too-small cages, covered in matted fur, flees, and blood.

Poor puppies. They look so cute covered in blood, but they also look miserable, Toga thought. I’ll ask Izuku if I could release them as a distraction.

On the other side of the room, she saw another door. None of the patrons where passing through it, but she did see a security guard use a keycard to open it.

Bingo.

Near a side wall, Toga found a broom closet. She grabbed one of the brooms and went to linger in the shadows on one side. After a few minutes, another security guard came her way.

As soon as he’d passed her, Toga hit him on the head with the broom handle. Swiftly, she caught the unconscious guard and dragged him into the broom closet, shutting the door behind her.

It was a cramped, dark space, but at least it was private.

She pulled out her phone to give Izuku and update. “I’ve knocked out one of the security guards. I’ll take some of his blood and his security card, which should let me in the back room.”

On his end, Izuku turned off mute. “Good job. Find some way to clear out the room, then put us on speaker.”

“I will,” She confirmed.

Toga emptied the contents of her fake-clothes pockets, including a trusty pocket knife. She used the knife to make a small cut in the guard’s arm. Several drops of blood decorated the cut, and she was quick to lap them up.

A few moments later, Toga left the broom closet, now looking like a security guard in this place. She easily slipped the security card in the slot and opened the door to a room filled with computers.

Two other security guards were watching monitors in the room. Well, no big deal.

Toga pretended to be relieved. “I’m so glad I found you guys! The boss is upstairs, he wants to speak to you.”

The two others looked up with wide eyes. “Overhall is here?” one asked.

Toga had no idea who that was, but nodded anyway.

The other security guard stood up. “Come on Kaname, I’ll show you to the private rooms. I only hope that he’s in a forgiving mood.”

Once the two had left the room, Toga sat down at one of the monitors and pulled out her phone.

“Okay Izuku, you’re on speaker,” she said after putting it on speaker.

“Good. Put the flashdrive I gave you in any of the desktops. If there are multiple computers there, you may have to try several, but I’ll be able to check each of them individually.”

Toga took the flashdrive out and did as she was asked. Shortly afterwards, the mouse on her monitor started moving on its own, bypassing passwords and opening programs all over the place.

Izuku’s tech skills are really great, Toga thought.

Eventually, Izuku spoke through the phone once again. “Okay, I’ve found the accounts. Let me just transfer the money, shouldn’t take more than a minute. By the way, do you know anything about these “kennels” that have cameras?”

“Oh, that must be for the doggies being kept here. That reminds me, can I try to free them as a distraction before I get away?”

“Did you say that there are dogs being kept there?” Uraraka asked. “Why would they…”

“They were all covered in blood, but looked really miserable. Can I, Izuku?” Toga asked again.

“Dogfighting,” Izuku said. He sounded like he was seething, something she’d only seen him do around Shigaraki before. “That’s what they’re doing behind closed doors. Don’t worry Toga, we’ll help the dogs escape. I think I can unlock their cages from here.”

“Yay!” Toga said. She spun around in her chair, which led to her eyes catching something on the floor in the corner of the room. “Hey guys? I think I found a safe.”

“What kind of safe is it?” Izuku asked.

Toga walked over to the safe and kneeled down. “Just a standard turning dial. Should I try to open it?”

“Leave it. We don’t know the combination, and I don’t want you to make noise trying to break it.”

Toga looked at a little slip of yellow she saw on the side of the safe. “There’s a sticky note here with the number 5, 15, 25 on it.”

“...In that case, go ahead and try it.”

Toga tried it. The safe opened.

“Well, there’s a few stacks of cash in here, as well as a gun with amo. Want me to take it all?”

“Wow, yeah, please do.”

Toga grabbed an empty briefcase from the floor and started shoving the money in it. “You got it, Izuku.”

“Good. Okay, the money has finished transferring. I’m going to open the kennels in a moment. Get the flashdrive, get out quickly, and take the long way to our hideout. Got it?”

Toga closed the briefcase, stood up, and grabbed her phone. “Got it.”

Outside the door, she could hear the clang of metal, followed by loud barks and screams. She pulled out the flashdrive and calmly power-walked out of the casino. When she passed the broom closet, she stealthily dropped the access card so her victim could find it later.

She got away scot-free, or so they thought.

--------

The next day, Izuku pulled out the new gun and ammo Toga had brought back. He wanted to sit on their new funds for a couple of days, but Toga had demanded a present for completing the job, so he gave her some cash to go shopping. Spinner had decided to join her and get some fresh air. Dabi had gone out to find another place they could make their hideout, since Izuku didn’t want to stay in someplace that All For One technically owned any longer than necessary. The only people still in the hideout were Uraraka and Izuku.

Izuku studied the gun. It was very similar to what he was used to: semi-automatic pistol with 12 in the clip and 1 in the chamber. The bullet size wasn’t the 9mm he used with his usual gun, so he’d have to keep a couple on hand to compare when he restocked. Still, there were enough in the box that once he’d loaded the clip half the box was still left.

He pushed the clip in and made sure the safety was on before walking away with the gun. “Uraraka, I’m going to shoot in the basement,” he shouted to the only other person in the house.

Uraraka looked up from the computer she’d been watching videos on. “Oh, okay. Want me to come with you?”

Izuku shook his head. “It’ll be loud, and all I’m doing is shooting at tin cans. Not the most interesting training, to be honest.”

Uraraka shrugged. “If you say so.”

Izuku descended the steps to the basement. He wasn’t sure why this particular warehouse had a basement, especially one this big, but he was grateful for it. The basement stretched out far beyond the boundaries of the building and probably even several blocks, giving Izuku a long concrete tunnel that suited him just fine as a shooting gallery.

He’d already set up makeshift targets from old tin cans about 10 feet from the entrance, so all he had to do was aim and shoot.

Bang!

The first bullet missed, significantly to the right of the target. Izuku was about to shoot another round, but he noticed some discoloration on the ground where the bullet hit.

He walked up to the target. The trajectory of the bullet was marked by a deep read, similar to blood. The bullet had traveled quite a distance, but it wasn’t hard for Izuku to find it on the ground several feet from the target. The bullet had split along the sides and squished on impact, opening up like a metallic flower.

Along the splits, Izuku found a thick, red liquid.

It it is blood, Toga will be able to tell.

Izuku decided to store the bullet in a plastic bag so Toga could look at it later. He was walking up the stairs to store it when he heard a loud noise from upstairs.

Izuku ran up to see what was going on.

Two men were standing in the entranceway, having thrown the front door off its hinges. They were both wearing plague masks. One was a large wall of muscles with long white hair. The other had black hair, but didn’t look particularly imposing. Izuku knew enough about the world of villains to know the smaller man was probably the greater threat, especially with his air of superiority.

Uraraka was standing in front of the unexpected guests. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. “Who do you think you are?”

The smaller man spoke first. “I am Overhaul, the leader of the Eight Precepts of Death.”

Izuku had heard that name before and laughed. “The Yakuza? Come on, you don’t seriously think anyone is scared of you gangsters anymore!”

Overhaul’s eyes jumped to Izuku and narrowed. “You’re going to regret that. We originally came for retribution and to return the items you stole from our casino, but now you’ve insulted our honor.”

Izuku only rolled his eyes and laughed harder. “You really need to increase your security there, by the way. A sticky note with the lock combination right next to the safe? Really?”

Overhaul turned to his companion. “Kendo, teach him a lesson.”

Kendo, the larger man, nodded. “Sure thing, boss.”

Kendo took off running towards Izuku, but he only took a couple of steps before Uraraka flew towards him and knocked him back. Her air-powered jet shoes shot both her and Kendo into the opposite wall.

Izuku was glad he’d gotten her into the habit of wearing her support equipment all the time, even when resting.

A single hand hold followed by throwing the large man into the air ensured that Uraraka had the upper hand in the fight. It was hard for people with physical quirks to attack with zero gravity.

“Tck,” Overhaul turned to Izuku again. “I’ll just do it myself then.” He then took off running towards Izuku.

Shit, Izuku realized. I have no idea what their quirks are.

He turned and led his attacker to the other side of the room. Overhaul followed, gradually gaining distance. Considering how much Izuku had trained this was rather impressive, but not impressive enough to be his quirk.

When Overhaul was a few seconds from touching Izuku, he snagged Toga’s favorite pillow from a nearby bed and blocked Overhaul’s touch with it.

The pillow scattered into a million fragments, feathers and threads flying everywhere and hindering both fighter’s views. Izuku took the opportunity to jump on top of a table and climb up a shelf just out of Overhaul’s reach.

It’s a good thing he did, since a few seconds later the pillow miracuously came together again.

“Ah, so that’s how your quirk works,” Izuku said. “You’re able to deconstruct and reconstruct things you touch, correct?”

Overhaul glared at Izuku. “Yes, but you should know that’s not my only trick.”

Quick as a flash, Overhaul pulled a gun out of his jacket and fired at Uraraka. Right after impact, she fell.

“URARAKA!”

“Don’t worry, she should recover with time.” Overhaul said.

Izuku didn’t care. He’d forgotten until now, but he was still holding the new gun. Without thinking, he fired it at Overhaul.

It missed the heart by a wide margin, but still hit the Yakuza boss’s side.

Overhaul winced in pain, but surged forward to touch the shelf Izuku was standing on.

Nothing happened.

Overhaul raised his eyebrows. “Oh? So you’re already using those bullets?”

Izuku had no idea what he was talking about, but pretended he did and said, “Yes. They’re very useful.”

Overhaul gave Izuku a calculating gaze.

“Oi! What happened here? Get away from my friends!”

A flash of blue flames shot across the room and forced Overhaul to back away.

Dabi was standing in the destroyed entranceway, looking as effortlessly casual as usual.

Overhaul’s eyes shifted between Izuku, Uraraka (who had started to stand up again), Dabi, and Kendo. He must have realized he’d lost the advantage.

“Kendo, we’re leaving.”

“But Boss, I wanted to rough them up more!” Kendo said.

“You’ll get another chance,” Overhaul said, “But for now, we have more important things to do.”

Izuku couldn’t resist the urge to snort.

Overhaul gave him one last look. “You’re getting away with it now, but don’t you dare consider stealing from the Eight Precepts of Death again. You will regret it.”

He then turned and led Kendo out the door, brushing shoulders with Dabi on the way out.

Once they were out of sight, Izuku climbed down from the shelf.

“I’m gone for a few hours and you guys manage to get in a fight,” Dabi said. “Seriously, who were those thugs?”

“The Eight Precepts of Death, the Yakuza organization that owned the casino from yesterday,” Izuku explained.

Dabi sighed. “Only you could accidentally piss off he Yakuza. I thought those organizations had lost power with the age of quirks?”

“You and me both,” Izuku walked over where Uraraka was clutching her calf. “How bad is it?”

“Not bad, at least, I think.” Uraraka said, biting her lip “It’s just a graze, but something still feels off…” She leaned down and touched her shoes. “My quirk… It’s not getting lighter. I think my quirk stopped working!”

Izuku frowned. That was worrying, but might explain why Overhaul wasn’t able to finish the job after Izuku shot him. If the bullets these Yakuza used were the same as the ones Toga picked up yesterday, then Overhaul must have lost his quirk when Izuku shot him. The fact that Overhaul didn’t seem too worried about this meant that Uraraka was probably going to be okay eventually.

“Come on, let’s get that bandaged up.” Izuku lead her over to the couch. “Dabi, did you find a new place?”

“Yeah, there’s an old house for sale about 10 minutes from here. It’s not in the best shape, but should only cost us about half of what we got from the casino job,” Dabi explained. “I guess you want to move sooner rather than later?”

“Yes. I’ll move the money through a couple of dummy accounts to make sure they can’t trace it, but we should be able to buy the new place by this evening.” Izuku said, pulling out some bandages to wrap up Uraraka’s leg.

“Well, you should make sure they can’t track us there with whatever they used to find us here,” Dabi said. He noticed the box of bullets on the table. “Hey, are those from yesterday?”

Izuku looked at what Dabi was talking about. “Yes. I was trying out the gun this morning, but I’m starting to think there’s something special about those bullets.”

Dabi emptied the box onto the table. Bullets rolled around the table and fell on the floor, but Dabi was only interested in the empty box.

He shoved the empty bullet box under Izuku’s nose. “Doesn’t that look like an electronic tracker?”

A small red light was blinking at the bottom of the box. There wasn’t much encasing it, but it should be enough for a little circuitry.

Izuku scowled. “You’re right. Do me a favor and destroy it?”

A puff of blue flames later and it was done.

------

Izuku had planned a while ago on meeting with a local support gear supplier to refill Uraraka’s air canisters, order more syringes for Toga, and get more bullets for himself. However, the morning after they moved hideouts he didn’t start the meeting with any of those requests.

Instead, he slapped a wad of cash on the table. “I’ll give you all this right now if you can tell me the location of the Eight Precepts of Death’s headquarters.

The supplier raised an eyebrow, but was more than happy to provide that information.

----------

“You know, all this sneaking around is more of Toga’s thing,” Dagi said. “Why didn’t we bring her?”

“She wanted to look after Uraraka,” Izuku reminded him. “Besides, we shouldn’t need her quirk for this.”

About a week after the confrontation with Overhaul in the old warehouse, Uraraka had gotten her quirk back but still wasn’t in fighting shape. Izuku would never say how relieved he was when she made her blanket float by accident, but getting shot in the leg would put her out of condition for a while longer. Toga had felt so guilty for not checking for trackers when she brought stuff home, so she’d gone above and beyond to make Uraraka’s recovery as comfortable as possible.

Izuku, though, had thrown himself into getting revenge on the Eight Precepts of Death and Overhaul. A few innocent questions to the local small-time villains and Izuku had gathered plenty of information on both the major members and their business practices. Apparently they were trying to dominate the underground again using drugs that enhanced and removed quirks, and held a monopoly on both quirk enhancers and the quirk-erasing bullets.

To be honest, it kind of reminded Izuku of how All For One had maintained a stranglehold on villain society for so many years by taking and giving quirks as he saw fit. Izuku knew how much power that could potentially bring, and wanted to make sure the Yakuza couldn't keep it.

Or, better yet, he wanted to take it for himself.

That was why Dabi, Spinner, and Izuku were here now, sneaking into the Eight Precepts of Death’s compound. Toga had given all three of them training on hiding their presence, so they should be able to slip in undetected and destroy the supply of drugs and special bullets. Hopefully they'd get some critical manufacturing equipment as well. Even better, Izuku was hoping to take pictures of their bullet-making process so he could reverse-engineer it.

Spinner, who had been crawling on the ceiling until now, dropped down in front of Izuku and Dabi. “There’s a door to the left,” he whispered.

Izuku nodded. “Let’s check it out.”

Just around the corner where spinner had said, Izuku found a closed door. It wasn’t locked. He opened it, but what he saw made him stop in his tracks.

It was a little girl’s room. Izuku had expected to find a stockpile of weapons, drugs, or the labs they’d use to make those things. Instead, he saw a rainbow painting, dolls strewn all over the floor, and a pink bed.

On the bed, a little girl with a horn looked at Izuku with fear in her eyes.

“A-are you… Is he…” The girl was trembling, but tried to voice her question. “Does he need to unmake and remake me again?”

Unmake and remake? Izuku wondered. That sounds like Overhaul’s quirk...

Suddenly, what she was saying clicked in Izuku’s mind.

“Dabi, Spinner, go on ahead. Take pictures of anything you think I’d be interested in, and destroy any stockpiles you can find.” He said.

Izuku heard the two of them leave, but didn’t take his eyes off the girl. He walked slowly towards her, holding out his hand.

“Don’t worry, I’m not with Overhaul,” he said. “My name’s Izuku, what’s yours?”

The girl looked at his hand wearily and didn’t move. Eventually, her quiet voice said, “I’m Eri.”

Izuku gave her a comforting smile. “Hello Eri. Do you mind if I sit next to you?”

Eri did not respond, so Izuku went ahead and sat on the bed.

“Does Overhaul unmake and remake you a lot?” he asked.

Eri looked down at her hands, but eventually nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure it must be painful.” Izuku reached a comforting hand out and gave her a one-armed hug.

Surprisingly, Eri didn’t flinch. She actually started to lean into his arm some more.

“Do you want to leave here?”

Eri looked up at Izuku in surprise. “I.. Can I leave?”

Izuku gave her a comforting smile. “If you want, I can take you away from here. There’s already five people in one house so it might not be as comfortable as you’re used to, but at least Overhaul won’t hurt you anymore.”

Eri clutched his hand, holding onto it with more strength than he thought her small body could muster. Her eyes were wide with hope. “Please, please, please! I don’t want to be unmade anymore!” She was on the edge of sobbing.

Izuku held her close, shushing her. Looking at Eri, he couldn’t help but remember when he was young and All For One had just taken him in. Did he tremble in fear as much as Eri?

No, he probably hadn’t. All For One hadn’t been actively torturing him.

Izuku tightened her arms around Eri and lifted her off the bed. She was so light, Izuku suspected she’d been malnourished.

“Try to be quiet,” he whispered. “I don’t want anyone to notice what I’m doing.”

Eri nodded and put a finger to her lips, the universal symbol for “quiet.”

And so, Izuku walked out of the Eight Precepts of Death’s facility with a little girl in tow, leaving Dabi and Spinner to destroy the drugs and bullets.

For some reason, they weren’t able to find the process to make quirk-destroying bullets.

---------

“Aw, aren’t you the cutest thing!” Uraraka squealed at the sight of Eri.

Dabi, on the other hand, gave Izuku a hard look. “Izuku, why did you have to take her home?”

Izuku rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“Aw, Dabi, you’re just jealous that she’s so cute!” Toga said.

“Umm…” Eri fidgeted with her nightgown. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to be a burden…”

“No, no, no you’re not a burden!” Uraraka said. “Dabi’s just being a stick in the mud. By the way, it doesn't look like Izuku brought any of your clothes with you. Would you like to get some new clothes?”

Eri fiddled with her nightgown some more. “If you want.”

“Hm… you can’t go to the store in that nightgown…” Toga considered. “Oh, I’ve got it! Eri, come with me real quick.”

Toga led the tiny girl up the stairs to the bedrooms.

Once the girl was out of earshot, Izuku turned to Dabi. “Overhaul has been using his quirk on her. Regularly destroying her body and putting it back together. I couldn’t leave here there.”

“I see,” Dabi suddenly turned away from Izuku. “Well, there’s also the fact that she’s a kid growing up in the ‘care’ of a villain organization…”

“Dabi!” Uraraka hissed.

Izuku couldn’t figure out what they were implying, but before he could ask Toga returned with Eri.

“Ta-da!” Toga said, showing off Eri dressed in a black t-shirt that was so much bigger than her it worked like a dress.

Izuku recognized the design. “Isn’t that my shirt?”

“Well, you’re not using it right now,” Uraraka said. “Besides, it looks so much better than that ratty nightgown.”

Eri shuffled over to Uraraka, apparently to show off her clothes. Something made her trip and hit Urarak’s hurt leg.

“Ugh!” Uraraka grunted in pain from the impact.

Eri immediately jumped back. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Oh, no, it’s fine sweety,” Uraraka assured her, sitting up from the couch. “It was an accident, after all…”

Uraraka froze. Something was different. She unwrapped the bandages around her leg. The wound was completely gone.

Somehow, Eri’s bump had healed her.

“Wow Eri! You have a healing quirk?” Toga asked.

“N-no, that’s not it.” Eri was trembling again. “It’s dangerous. I ‘rewind’ people, and it can make people completely disappear by accident…”

“Well, that just means you need to learn to control it,” Uraraka said.

Eri was close to tears now. “But I can’t control it. The only person who can control it is Overhaul, when he uses me to cleanse the world of quirks…”

Izuku’s breath caught. Is she saying…?

Swiftly, Izuku kneeled down so he was eye level with her. “Eri, your quirk is your power, nobody else’s. Overhaul won’t touch you again, and I know you’ll figure out how to control it with time.”

“But… But what if I hurt someone?” Eri asked.

“We’ll be careful, and I’ll help you get a handle on it. Okay?” Izuku said, patting her on the head.

Eri still looked concerned, but didn’t protest.

“Hey Uraraka, since you’re doing better, how about you take Eri and Toga shopping? She needs clothes, after all.” Izuku said.

“Right! That’s a wonderful idea,” Uraraka said, bolting up off the couch. “Come on you two!”

“Yay! It's a girls-only outing!” Toga cheered, taking Eri’s hand and following Uraraka out the door.

With the girls gone, Dabi and Spinner went to their rooms to catch up on sleep. Izuku though, grabbed a particular gun and the corresponding bullets and walked down to the old hideout where his shooting gallery was still set up.

One by one, Izuku emptied clip after clip of the quirk-erasing bullets. They destroyed the cans and stained the whole place red, but Izuku just kept shooting until the last bullet made from a little girl’s suffering had been spent.

This was his redemption.

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

The next day, the Mustafu police force received an anonymous tip about the source of illegal quirk enhancing and erasing drugs. They forwarded this information to the Nighteye agency, where All Might’s successor was still interning. This prompted a raid on the Eight Precepts of Death’s facility, where the hero LeMillion defeated the villain Overhaul.

The public at large didn’t think too much of this, but Mirio and Sir Nighteye both thought it was too convenient, especially since none of the Yakuza and tried to use their quirk-erasing bullets. They asked to interrogate Overhaul about this, and the police granted their request.

“Someone took the child. My guess is that green-haired kid with a smart mouth, but I can’t say for sure,” Overhaul said in response to questioning.

"The child?" Mirio asked.

"What green-haired kid?" Nighteye asked instead.

Overhaul scratched the side of his face. "The girl is none of your concern, but if you must know she's the Boss's granddaughter. Now for the green-haired kid, he's apparently the leader of a new small-time group of villains. I don't know his name, and I wouldn't have even concerned myself with him if he hadn't stolen some quirk-erasing bullets from me. He didn't even seem to realize what he'd done, but still made himself a nuisance."

"You still haven't explained what this has to do with your lack of resources," Nighteye pressed.

Mirio want to ask about the girl again, but let his mentor take the lead.

"A few days ago someone broke into our facility and destroyed our entire stash of bullets and drugs. They burned them and scattered the ashes so even I couldn’t reonstruct them. They also took the only source I had for the quirk-erasing bullets. I investigated, and found out that some green-haired boy had been asking about our operations. His description matched someone I’d recently caught stealing from our legitimate businesses, so I planned to track him and his gang down, but you showed up first.”

“You say this boys took your source for the quirk-erasing bullets. Is it possible he’ll try to create his own?” Nighteye asked.

“I doubt it. But if he does, well, that’s your problem isn’t it?” Overhaul responded.

“Would you be willing to tell us what you know about the green-haired boy and his gang?” Mirio asked, “If nothing else, so we can save the girl.”

Overhaul gave Mirio a calculating stare for a few moments. “I’ve only seen three of them. I don’t know what the green-haired boy’s quirk is, but he is skilled with a pistol and has a deep understanding of the underworld and how it works. He’s got this brunette girl in his group, and her quirk somehow lets her and the people she’s fighting float. The last one I only saw a glimpse of, but his body was covered in burn scars that may have been because by his blue-flame quirk. Is that good enough for you?”

“It’s a decent start,” Nighteye said. “Mirio, let’s go.”

As they walked through the walls of Tartarus, Mirio turned to Nighteye. “Did you get enough information?”

“Not even close. Overhaul is definitely hiding something,” Nighteye pulled out his phone and started texting his sidekicks. “There’s a good chance we’ll learn more if we can find that green-haired kid and figure out if he really did destroy the stash and steal the source of those bullets.”

“And the girl?” Mirio asked.

“Again, we need to find the green-haired kid before we can judge.” Nighteye suddenly stopped, a look of shock on his face. “Mirio, did you notice how Overhaul started talking about the girl but quickly changed to talking about the source of the bullets?”

Mirio's heart sunk. “You think that’s because they’re the same thing?”

Nighteye started walking faster. “I don’t know for sure, but we have to find that green-haired boy.”

Unfortunately, the Nighteye Agency’s investigation on this matter proved fruitless for about a month. The most they got were a few rumors about a kid collecting support gear, but they never led anywhere.

That is, until a green-haired boy introduced himself and his friends to the world by attacking Endeavour.

#villain month 2019 #mha villain au #bnha #overhaul #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #abuse tw #guns tw #violence tw #myfanfic

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onepunchmiss · 5 years

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OPM s2e6 Live Blog

“The Monster Uprising”

Sorry this is later than usual. I’ve been having some personal issues lately that have been rather time consuming. But anyway yall ain’t here for that! So let’s get on with the episode. As always, I’m watching from the perspective of someone who has read both the manga and web comic

Once again, picking up right where we left off! Suiryu finally makes his fighting debut. He’s been introduced like what, 3 episodes ago? But honestly idgaf about him nearly as much as

MAX MY BOI I KNOW HOW THIS ENDS FOR YOU BUT I’M ROUTING FOR YOU ANYWAY. Oh god I gotta say, I forgot Suirya has a couple nightmare faces yikes. Also, I love how the Sea King keeps having an impact on heroes so long after his defeat. First Prisoner during the alien invasion, then Max and I know in just a bit Snek too. What a villain. Jeez, the mildly ominous music really isn’t subtle about making Suiryu out to be antagonistic, yeah? Also, this is the most we’ve heard him talk so far- Suiryu’s voice is exactly what I imagined I love it. MAX NO ITS OK I LOVE YOU ANYWAY AND SUIRYU IS A DICK ITS FINE YOU DID GREAT

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh this is the sixth episode this season and i STILL pause every time Zombieman is in the intro. Even his tiny silhouette at the end. just

NGAH BEST ONE YET MY BBY GIRL

Ok ok back to the action. Genos makes a good point and I wonder that, too. Saitama broke his limiter through sheer willpower right, like thats crazy but also not THAT crazy. Is he REALLY the only person EVER to have done that thus far (aside from probably blast)? Thankfully no monster ever has otherwise we’d surely know about it. Is Saitama really just THAT insane? Its not even like he had an extreme desire his whole life, he just beat some crab guy and snapped one day? OH OH GENO’S PHONE OS RINGING MONSTERS! MONSTER! MO N S T ER S ! aw wait no go to the monsters hey

OH WAIT NEVERMIND THIS IS OK SNEK SNEK S N E K OK I actually really like him?? He’s like they show’s resident butt-monkey but also just a good guy.

OH HEY THAATS DIFFERENT!?!? Wow ok so in the manga, it just happened by chance that the cheering in the stadium was so loud that no one heard the monster evacuation alarms, but here they’re setting up Bakuzan preemptively as an asshole who actively disregarded the alarm and everyone’s safety (although he kinda has a point?). Because the way he acts later on is clearly not evil enough already? I feel like that’s unnecessary but it doesn’t add or detract from anything really so whatever I guess?

FUCKIN KEK DAVE. Top tier humor ffs the random mundane name joke will never get old fite me ooh Oh good god OK Choze’s face is also terrifying oh no. Dude you don’t need a monster cell you ALREADY LOOK LIKE ONE but OK

YASSS GENOS SLAY YAAASSSSS He finally wins a few rounds WITHOUT losing any limbs! IM JUST! SO EXCITED TO SEE HIM FIGHTING YASSS WAIT NO GO BACK HEKK so much jumping around is making this more difficult to maintain any semblance of coherency asdfghjk

HAH you know what? When I was rereading the manga and came across face ripper, I thought to myself he looks like he would be some tan/ olive/ pale purple color or something so I bet the anime will be like HAHA RED BITCH. and looky here. I’m catching on finally. hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Genos my boy my son you are such a bad ass and I love you hhhhhhhhhhhhhh HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAA AWAKENED COCKROACH AWAKENED COCKROACH ALREADY FUCK THIS EPISODE IS HAPPENING FASTER THAN I ANTICIPATED HECK HECK THERE GOES MY HEART RATE I THOUGHT I WAS PREPARED ALAS I AM BUT A FO O L

HAH I think this is anime-only too?? I dont remember it Why is this so funny what the fuck?? “Dark Hell Killing” Juijitsu omg calm down you absolute edgelord literally half of that name would have been sufficient.

FFFFFFFFFF The slowly building intense music just cut off like- I was so distracted by Bakuzam’s freaky murder face i forgot this happened DAMNIT SAITAMA i NEED my LUNGS to BREATH but no i LAFF and then the silence in the stadium turns to TRIUMPHANT MUSIC as if that was some valiant victory and THAT SOUR FACE FACE FUCK IM DEAD ITS TOO GOOD IM DEAD

Aw Tareo Sweetheart its ok noooooo also side note don’t they also mention Metal Bat is hospitalized? Hey! HEY! TALK ABOUT MY OTHER SON WE DONT EVEN SEE HIM FOREVER HEY oh oh I spoke too soon my b my b

Well shit it’s Shiny vs Shiny jeezus. I don’t have a particular issue with the coloring of Genos’ arms and such but this is just very noticable- Roach could’ve done without the SHINE. Eyyyy a complimentary Sonic for all yall SOS fans out there HAH “No matter it’s still fatal” r u sure about that child r u sure

AAHHH THE WIFE AGAINNNN yo I have A Lot Of Thoughts ™ about the females in OPM that I think I’ll make a separate post about because of the inevitable backlash of Super-S’ design.

OH FUCK COOL SHOT COOL COOL OH FUCK THAT WAS COOL TOO OUT OF NO WHERE hey wait was that supposed to be the Hell Storm attack? WHAT REALLY. AW MAN I was getting hyped about how that would look cmon

Super-S with messed up hair is perfection just saying

Also, Tatsumaki is the definition of Yandere and its terrifying jeez.

Terrifying, but also this. HEK

Aw snekm nooooo I BELIEVE IN YOU OK HES A DICK DONT LISTEN TO HIM YOU JUST WAIT A FEW EPISODES SWEETHEART THEN YOULL SEE

Oh weird dude seeing the Madhouse animation in the middle of season 2 is weird not jarring which is good because at least to me that means JC staff is keeping up well enough but still weirdddd

“Everything about you disgusts me” me too snek DONT LISTEN TO HIM HES A DICK

((((((((((((((((((((ew amai mask go away)))))))))))))))))))))

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I SCREAM FOR THE FIRST TIME OUT LOUD I WAS HONESTLY DOUBTING HED BE SHOWN CAUSE THEY SKIPPED SOME OTHER MONSTERS BEFORE BUT THERE HE IS NYAN NYANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

OOF OUCH I FELT THAT KICK THE IMPACT IN MY BONES

ok post credits scene i have an idea of what it might be and I’m shaking in my seat but hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK HECK

yoooooooooooooooooooooo I WAS NOT IMAGINING GYOROS VOICE LIKE THAT HONESTLY I WAS READING IN ALL IN URSULA’S VOICE LIKE FROM THE LITTLE MERMAID BUT OK THIS IS GOOD OH FUCK GOUKETSU OH HECK OK HEY AT LEAST HES NOT RAINBOW COLORED BUT HECK OH GENOS NO

OH HEY BITCH YOU DIDNT DO SHIT AGAINST METAL BAT YOU GOT LUCKY HE DOESNT COUNT

THERE IS LITERALLY NO AVOIDING IT NOW NEXT WEEK CHILD EMPEROR MY DEAR AND DRIVE KNIGHT AT THE VERY LEAST LIKE THIS IS LITERALLY CONFIRMED AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Good Episode GOOD EPISODE OK so my least favorite thing easily was the cop-out on Fubuki’s Hell Storm attack but otherwise my favorite thing was??? I dont know?? Like this episode was a lot of build up for next week’s episode but also so much happened anyway?? I loved seeing Genos in action and also BDSM Wife AND OROCHI AND GYORO and also also I know a lot of people have an issue with the existence of the tournament thing in general but I don’t mind it because its hilarious honestly and all of the happenings otherwise feel well balanced enough sooooooooo yeah I’m SO PUMPED for next week like bring me THE S CLASS BRING ME BRING

#opmiss mumbling #one punch man #live blogging #opm #s2e6 #s2e18 #super-s #genos #saitama #fubuki #tatsumaki #pig god #lightning max #suiryu #snek #nyan #orochi #gyoro gyoro

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bookenders · 5 years

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11/11/11 Tag Game: Rounds 24, 25, 26, and 27

Tagged by the wonderful @corsairesque, the lovely @azawrites, the stellar @sunlight-and-starskies, and the incomparable @inexorableblob - thanks!

And @inexorableblob, thank you for letting me rewrite the end of The Great Gatsby. It was very cathartic.

Rules: Answer 11 questions, write 11 questions, tag 11 people!

Bilbo Taggins: @aurumni-writes @quilloftheclouds @aslanwrites @starlitesymphony @writingonesdreams @waterfallwritings @cataclysmic-writer @ren-c-leyn @timefirewrites @minusfractions @ink-flavored - and if you like the questions and aren’t tagged, feel free to answer them! And tag me so I can see!

My Questions:

How many licks would it take for your OCs to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop?

What are your favorite smells?

What’s the book you’ve read most recently? What did you think of it? What impressed you? What would you have done differently?

What are your thoughts on mugs?

If your OCs had a comic book series/graphic novel about them, what would it be called? What would be on the cover? What would the art style be?

Can you draw a bear?

Do you do any other kinds of art? Are you ever influenced by other kinds of art? What about other areas like science or mathematics/other disciplines?

Have you read any craft books or writing advice books? If yes, how have the helped or hindered you? Which would you recommend? If no, would you ever consider reading them?

What are your favorite kinds of narratives? What narrative structures do you prefer to write and what do you prefer to read?

What’s your favorite recipe?

What are some signs that make you consider setting a project aside vs continuing with it?

As always, answers under the cut!

@corsairesque‘s Questions:

1. Do you create playlists for your stories or characters?

I do!

Here’s a detailed post about how I make them.

This is Mel’s from H2H.

This is Gemma’s from H2H.

This is one for the story I recently posted.

And I have one for each WIP on my WIP page! (Mostly, I’m still working on Fish Food’s.)

I actually have folders in Spotify for my characters and stories. Each one gets a playlist.

2. What is your stance on endings that don’t end with some hope?

Sometimes a story needs to have a certain ending to have an emotionally satisfying conclusion. I don’t think hope is absolutely required for an ending. I’ve ended stories without hope because that’s how the story ends. If I wrote it to conclude with an upturn, it would’ve been disloyal to the narrative. Like life, not everything ends happily, or with a positive outlook.

If you want it from a more technical perspective, there are three sorts of endings: positive, negative, and neutral. They can mix and match, but these are the three base ones. I tend toward neutral or positive-neutral endings. The best story I’ve written so far has a negative-leaning neutral ending because it concludes with a loss that does not promise hope. Positive endings are not necessary for a narrative, or for a conclusion.

Sometimes you need to write a hopeful ending. Sometimes you need to read a hopeful ending. And sometimes you need to read or write something that ends on a down-note. I know I have.

So, TL;DR, there is no ending hierarchy. It all depends on the reader and the writer, what they need, and what the story demands.

3. What author would you love to hear feedback from on your WIP?

Of literally anyone? Dead or alive? I mean. I’d love to hear what Flannery O’Connor would have to say about my short stories. I try to do a remix-version of her moments of grace in each of them.

4. What is the genre of your WIP(s)?

I mention these on my WIP page!

Most of my short stories are literary and contemporary fiction. My longer projects tend toward low fantasy.

5. How do you come up with new ideas for your WIP(s)?

I don’t have a method or anything for idea generation. My brain works in the background while I’m doing other things, so I’ll be washing dishes, or brushing my teeth, or writing something else, and an idea goes HI HELLO WHAT ABOUT THIS HUH? and I scramble to write it down.

Most of the time, my story ideas come from cool sentences I think of while observing. That sounds super weird and nerdy, but it’s true! When I’m bored or need to occupy my brain or just sorta feel like creating something spontaneous, I’ll look around and figure out how I’d write about a certain thing in the vicinity.

Some examples of this from my phone notes:

“Laughter echoing through a cave, bouncing off the walls, the gift of hearing it over and over until it fades like gentle waking”

“Cheeks baked pink from the flush of her modesty”

“The last remnants of home, the dirt hidden beneath their fingernails”

“Headlights flicker between the gaps in the barrier like a slipstream of stars”

Ya know, stuff like that.

Sometimes, if I’m stuck while writing and need a thought, I look at the plot and think up complications for my characters to face. That’s how I figured out how to make Lithium 100% more plot relevant. I thought, okay, so she has this role right now, what can I add to make her stand in the way of X plan while also being an asset to Y? And boom, idea generated and problem solved.

6. What do you use to keep all your writing on? (Scrivener, Google Docs, good old pen and paper…)

I use Scrivener for all my main writing. I have a ton of phone memo notes for ideas on the go. I have a notebook full of random stuff for when I’m blocked and need to hand write something.

I also answered this further down!

7. What gave you initial inspiration for your WIP(s)?

H2H: There was a publisher who had a call for shapeshifter stories, and then I missed the deadline so I decided to try for a zine instead, then I got rejected, so I made it into my own thing.

AOPC: I needed to flesh out a piece of my homebrew DnD world, so I started worldbuilding, then it was my turn to turn in a story to be workshopped in my writing class, so I wrote a thing set in the village about the tribe and it all spiraled out from there.

FF: I had an errant thought about the script that hero and villain stories follow and wrote a thing about what would happen if one of them decided to deviate from it and BOOM the plot hit me like a semi truck.

Almost all of my short stories start with a sentence I think sounds really cool, a tone I want to try to capture (ex. the feeling of standing inside an old cathedral), or the ending moment of a character arc (I tend to work backwards).

8. How long have you been working on your WIP(s)?

I’ve been working with Heart to Heart since November 2018. I started thinking about Fish Food like 3 months ago I think? And I got the idea for All Our Painted Colors 3ish years ago, but it started as a short story that I thought about expanding about 8 months ago.

My writing process starts with a long period of thought percolation before I write anything definitive down.

9. What was the first thing you came up with for your WIP(s)?

H2H: The fact that the main character is an apothecary who uses recipes from historical documents to brew things and lives in a small town, and that their love interest changes shapes in some way.

AOPC: That the tribe is a society based around body paint, art, preserving their personal history, and stories. But mostly paint.

FF: The hero danging over a pit of hungry piranhas and asking the villain a question that throws off the whole “death threat” vibe.

10. Have you considered Hogwarts houses for your characters? If so, what are they?

Answered this for the H2H cast here.

As for the Fish Food cast:

Iron Will - Hufflepuff

Overseer - Ravenclaw

Nightmare - A Hufflepuff who asked to be in Slytherin and the hat said “yeah okay”

Lithium - Gryffindor

Babylon - Slytherin

Sparkplug - Gryffindor

11. What do you find easiest to write? (Description, dialogue, etc.)

Interiority! Free indirect discourse! Unvoiced character brain thoughts! Which I guess means description?

Writing dialogue sucks old car tires!

@azawrites‘ Questions:

what’s the best part about your writing style? I like how I build up to emotional punches. It’s like walking up a ramp, but in a literary way. And at the top of the ramp you either get a gut punch of feels or an ice cream cone.

do you write on the computer or on paper? I do most of my writing on my laptop because my hands can’t write fast enough to keep up with my brain. My typing is way faster. If I’m having trouble getting an idea down, or the tone of the writing lends itself to being handwritten (idk how to describe this, but sometimes words just gotta be scribbled, ya know?), I’ll hand write it in pen. I don’t use pencils anymore because I wasn’t allowed to in college and it kinda stuck.

what are your favourite books and why? Oh, no, there are too many. So I’ll just say my top book: The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien because of how it deals with stories and grief and remembering, the fact that it’s a story cycle (which is very cool), and the way he writes - it’s beautiful and sad and messed up and poignant. I love it.

why did you start writing? I’ve answered this before, but there was never really starting point for me. It’s just something I’ve always done.

why did you continue writing? Because I had too much fun to stop! I also get creatively constipated, I guess is how I would phrase it, and need to have some sort of narrative outlet or my brain gets really mad at me.

where do you usually write? Pretty much anywhere, but most often at my desk. I think I need a taller chair, though...

can you describe your favourite piece (written by you) in one sentence? Let’s get authory with this one: The teacher hands out the tests, multiple choice this time, but when the stapled packet slides across your desk, there’s something odd about it, something that brings the war to life inside your head, a long-forgotten voice that speaks the souls of the soldiers and tells their stories from the annals of history. Or: A multiple choice test about WWII that tells the story of 4 men from Company B from enlistment to the end of their campaign.

what’s one cliche/trope you overuse, but still like anyway? It’s a trope when it comes to my own writing, actually. Person Sits Alone in the Dark and Contemplates. I love it, I abuse the hell out of it, and I will never stop.

what music do you listen to when working on a WIP? Depends. I have a go-to Writing Flow State song, playlists to help me get in the right head space when writing certain characters, and playlists that help guide the tone of a story. I can never listen to movie or video game scores because the association of song and cinematic moment is too strong for me.

have you ever dreamed of a fictional character? Uh, I have the occasional nightmare about Kokopelli? Does that count?

what’s one thing that makes you automatically dislike a book? Overly pretentious first person POV prose (and I don’t mean purple. I mean a character who - honestly and without a hint of satire - thinks like a writer from the 1920s who just discovered what “paid by the word” means and believes they’re the wisest human being in the universe and everyone who doesn’t agree with them is the basest of idiots - barf). Gratuitous female violence. The use of the word “loins” outside of an animal context. Everything about The Beginners by Rebecca Wolff.

@inexorableblob‘s Questions:

Which of your characters could you write as twice their current age? Oh, man, I think writing Iron Will in his forties or fifties would be really cool. It’d certainly give the story a new commentary twist.

Which of your characters could you write as half their current age? (I’m not gonna cheat and say Mel, I promise.) I think writing a 30yo Treena would be very cool. However, writing a 13 or 14yo Lithium who is just learning how to use her super powers would be WILD.

What big city would your characters do best in? London? New York? Tokyo? Mexico City? Rio? The Fish Food characters would all do best in New York or London, since they’re very close to Conover. Lithium would prefer Rio, though, and Babylon would lobby for everyone to move to Tokyo. The H2H characters would do best in Mexico City or London, depending on who decides to take charge and teach everyone the local customs.

What would your characters do if they were in a small rural community that was attacked by underground worms? This is giving me too many ideas for H2H. Gemma would be a little bit furious, since she hates having to get rid of animals, especially when they’re invasive. If the worms just minded their own gosh dang business then everyone could live in peace. If we’re talkin’ normal sized worms, like worm-sized worms, then Gemma would develop a pesticide that wouldn’t kill them, but force them to the surface where they would then be stunned by whatever weird solution Mel comes up with. Then the town would have a Worm-Off, where the person who collects the most worms wins free pie for a year, courtesy of Harry’s. If we’re talkin’ DnD-style Purple Worms, like Beetlejuice worms, then Mel would take over. She’d help organize an evacuation and steal Oz’s gun, just in case. Then she’d do some spoilery things with Gemma assisting.

What is the worst place where you’ve ever wanted to write? Probably while I was taking the math section of the SATs. Kinda inconvenient, brain, thanks for that. Other terrible places: mid job interview, in the middle of an empty street at midnight, anywhere I’m sitting where I have terrible posture, watching a slam poetry event in a very crowded bar, etc.

What’s the most uncomfortable subject you’ve ever written about? I’ve written a little bit about hate crimes and loathed every second. I’ve written a character actively contemplating suicide (he was a WWII soldier) and that was not fun at all. I mean, I also wrote a paper about sexy (somewhat graphic) wlw poetry for my Sexuality class, which a lot of people would be uncomfortable with, but I thought it was a very good collection. Go read Marilyn Hacker’s stuff, it’s good.

If you had to change the ending of any famous novel, which would you pick? The Great Gatsby. We don’t end with the green light, screw the green light. Gatsby wills all of his possessions and wealth to Nick and Nick becomes the next James Gatz. But this time around, he pines for the man who was killed in the pool just below his balcony while pretending to love Jordan, who finds out and amicably marries him because 1920s. She then uses Nick/Gatsby’s money to purchase an automobile manufacturing company and makes cars in every color but yellow. (Gotta maintain that color symbolism for F. Scott, I guess.) Nick discovers Gatz’ old bootlegging and illegal activities buddies and starts up a criminal empire. He and Jordan become the biggest, queerest, most spiteful and angsty crime bosses in New York. Nick makes it his life’s mission to take down false accusers, vigilante style. The car manufacturing company is what they use to launder money. Daisy divorces Tom because they’re both terrible people. Daisy takes her daughter and moves to California. Jordan sends Daisy’s daughter money secretly, about a hundred dollars a month. The last line is something about how Gatz was always reaching out and chasing green, but because of him, Nick is steeped in dark, bloody red. I would then write a sequel about Nick and Jordan and their crime empire that spans the East Coast. God, I hate this book.

If you had to change your life, what would you change without regret? Start therapy way earlier, 100%. That would have saved me a lot of nonsense.

If the end of the world where scheduled a week from tomorrow, what would you do? Would you tell anybody? Everybody? Keep it a secret? Assuming this was legit and the end of the world was actually happening, I’d probably try to tell some big-shot geologist or something, hoping they spread the word. Other than that, since debt won’t be a thing, I’d take the people I love on a killer trip around the world.

What would you do if a wizard offered to cast one spell for you, but your worst enemy got the same spell? Hmmm. I’d ask them to cast the Self-Realization spell, so they would instantly become aware of the effect their actions have on others and know exactly how terrible they’ve been to other people their whole life. Maybe then they can be a better person. My anxiety makes this spell ineffective on me, since it’s already there! Thanks, brain!

Which would you choose, never eating in the same place, always eating the same meal, always eating with the same people, or never eating with the same people? I’d choose always eating with the same people. I like frequenting restaurants I like and eating different things. I don’t think I could deal with only eating the same thing/off the same menu forever. And I have bad social anxiety, so constantly eating with new people would probably short-circuit my brain eventually. A good meal in good company is pretty great, though.

@sunlight-and-starskies‘ Questions:

What is your favorite genre of music? I’ll always be a rock fan at heart. Right now, I really like folk rock and any kind of music that sounds like it has history behind it.

What are your favorite words? Illustrious, shimmer, soliloquy, incarnate, bound, and many more. Also most Yiddish curses.

Describe your ideal vacation. Somewhere cozy where I can explore and chill at my leisure. A week of artsy events in the city. Exploring landscapes in the country.

If you could have any fictional creature for a pet, what would it be? Why? Pegasus! I can ride and they can fly. We’d make an excellent team, and where we’d go, we wouldn’t need roads.

Which fictional universe would you live in if you had to live there for the rest of your life? Logic dictates the Star Trek universe, since I’d probably be an average civilian. Post-scarcity society? Sign me the hell up. My heart, however, is screaming ROHAN.

Favorite childhood toy? Uh... I honestly can’t remember.

What is your aesthetic? Good smelling old books with doodles and notes in the margins, a pile of unfolded clean clothes on a chair, a stack of handwritten papers perched on the corner of a desk, the smell of breakfast cooking when you wake up, the immediate “woops” shock the moment you trip over something you should’ve moved earlier.

Tell me a random fact about your current project or you. About me: I have a birthmark that kinda sorta looks like an elephant. About Fish Food: The Coalition knows what happened to Hydrophase. So does Sparkplug.

Are you an early bird or a night owl? Night owl, all the way. I like the idea of being a morning person, though.

What is your favorite food? Pasta! Or any kind of Asian food.

What is your happiest memory? Oh, geez. Ummm. When I was little, I would curl up in my grandpa’s armchair and eat Burger King breakfast sandwiches on Saturday mornings.

#about me #writeblr #my process #tag game #11/11/11 tag #11/11/11 tag game #writer tag

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ratretro · 5 years

Text

The Heart Beats Chapter 4 - Scars

Title: The Heart Beats

Pairing: NaLu

Summary: Soulmate AU mashup - Red Strings. Forgotten Dreams. Colors of Gray. Marked Skin. Unfamiliar Names. Soulmates have different meanings for everyone, and Lucy struggles to find the courage to take her next step forward. Will she finally claim her future or will feelings go left unsaid?

Rating: M – sort of??? probably??????

None of these characters are owned by me, they are all owned by the wonderful Hiro Mashima!

A/N:

Alright everyone! We’ve got our winners! So, after tallying votes from my asks, dms, and on FF (ao3 had no comments) we came to these results. For NaLu: the midnight video call (honestly truly this was a super close race) and for Jerza: Coffee Shop. Based on the winning options for the ships we won’t be meeting Wendy this chapter! However, we will meet her in ch 5 or 6 so no worries haha also the midnight video call option is just good okay

FF.net - AO3

Natsu Dragneel was, by all intents and purposes, an idiot. He wracked his brain for answers on why he would put his name as ‘Hot Stuff’ in her phone. Oh man, she was going to think he was a moron. Shit, he just might be.

“Troubles with the blonde?” Jellal gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder and Natsu briefly wondered if the man was doing alright. He’d JUST moved back to his hometown and all.

“The blonde’s name is Lucy and Natsu looooves her,” Juvia called from across the empty cafe. He was after closing but the trio still had business to take care of and that took precedence over his idiocy with a girl he definitely did NOT love. He loved his soulmate. Though, sometimes that worked for and against him. Today, it was against him because damn it all the girl was amazing. She was selfless and caring.

He could inconvenience her a million times and she’d forgive him each and every one. But Lucy. Lucy was real. He could touch her, hear her voice, watch her nose scrunch up when she took a sip of a drink much too bitter. Today, it worked against him.

“I don’t like ‘er, Juvia. She’s not my soulmate.” He threw the rag down on the countertop with an annoyed grunt.

Jellal, in his infinite wisdom, assumed Natsu was one of the ‘following the crowd’ types and made the first of many mistakes.

“So? Why should that matter?” the darker-haired blunette’s voice rang into the silence and Natsu, dear Natsu, exploded.

“Huh!? What do ya mean why!? ‘Cause I love her and I can’t stand liking someone who isn’t her!”

“Have you guys met before?” because surely after a week of working at the shop Jellal would have met her by now. But he’d only ever seen the blo-- ‘Lucy’ here to visit the pinkette.

“N-no, we haven’t.” the pinkette’s head hung low and he expected the same thing he always got: then go see her instead of raging.

“Are you dating?” this was a different line of questioning then he was used to. So, Natsu, for once, listened.

“No?” Jellal spoke calmly even in the face of Natsu’s disdain. Natsu, himself, was beginning to question Jellal’s motive at this point.

“Then do as you please. See who you end up liking the most. Although, you should probably meet your soulmate if--”

“I KNOW.” an aggravated yowl left the pinkette’s throat and that was enough for Jellal to know it was a subject to drop. And so he continued to sweep and they worked in awkward silence until the cafe was closed for the night. They even had the ‘closed for emergency’ sign outside so patrons knew they’d be closed for a few days.

The trio had business to attend to after all. Business that had nothing to do with his love life.

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

The dinging of her phone was what woke her in the dead of night. The blonde fumbled and smacked at her phone in an attempt to decline the call but much to her chagrin she tapped the answer button instead.

“Hey, Lucy.” Natsu’s voice was soft and barely audible from her bedside table and it took her a moment to register who was speaking.

“Natsu?” her voice was groggy and at first the pinkette wasn’t sure what Lucy had even said. Meanwhile, the blonde herself was struggling to focus on the bright lit up screen where the vague shape of her barista was. Half-asleep and barely functioning, she waited for a response.

“Look at the screen.” Lucy had barely heard what he said. Which wasn’t surprising since she still hadn’t lifted the phone from her table.

“Don’t wanna.” a grumbled response that Natsu understood. Sort of.

“Luuuuce.” he groaned while the haze of the blonde’s waking mind began to clear.

“Fiiiiiiine,” she grumbled. The pinkette watched as her face came to view. Well, a dark outline of her face barely illuminated from the light of the phone.

“You realize it’s...” she glanced to the upper right, “12:37 AM. Right?”

“Yeah,” he said it like a statement but his voice was becoming strained, almost as if he was hurt.

“I just felt the need to talk to ya is all. Not sure why.” more strained vocals from the pinkette. He looked to be in a dimly lit location. She could hear cars passing by and even the sound of a microwave going off in the distance.

“What about? Are you okay?” she didn’t think he was but she was already expecting his lie.

“I’m fine. Nothin’ to worry about, Luce.” it seemed that the nickname would be sticking unless she rejected it but honestly it felt right. It felt like a personal connection to him. She liked that.

“Ya sure?” she grumbled, a mixture of tired and irritation at being woken if nothing was wrong.

“Where are you anyway?” now THAT was a question he’d hoped she wouldn’t ask.

“I’m on my balcony.” Technically speaking, he was on a balcony – it just wasn’t his.

“Uh huh. Sure. Are you sure you’re okay?” Her bed creaked as she shifted to an upright position to continue talking to him.

“I am. Uh--” the sound of a fight broke out in the background and Natsu cursed before the call abruptly ended. Lucy was left with a bright screen reading ‘Call Ended’ and several questions. Luckily, these could easily be answered with her visit to the shop tomorrow. Still, she worried about him. She considered calling him back to see if he was okay but quickly dismissed the thought.

Besides, she’d see him tomorrow anyway.

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

Natsu laid in his bed, cut to hell, and internally thanked the fact that Lucy hadn’t called him back. That failure of a mission was just one of their many mistakes but he’d made the biggest blunder. He’d gotten hurt; bad. Wendy had spent the entire night attempting to keep the wound from scarring but in the end, she hadn’t been able to. He’d needed several stitches.

He’d also been ignoring the inked messages on his forearm filled with panic, worry and God knew what else. Of course, she’d seen it. It would scar, badly, which would cause it to stay on her as well. Forever, it would never leave. Now, Natsu himself wouldn’t care about a measly scar but he wasn’t a girl. Girls care about things like that.

Maybe once he was out of recovery and cleared for active duty again he could talk to Juvia about it. Still, that bitch Briar would pay the next time he saw her. Though, the pinkette couldn’t say it was a total bust. They’d finally gotten information that they could turn into the police which would finally end their job. Plus, the mob syndicate, Avatar would go down in ashes. He couldn’t have them anywhere near Lucy or his soulmate which meant they couldn’t be rifling around in this city.

“We got ‘em right, gramps?” he questioned the small, elder man who was sitting on the dresser across from his bed.

“We got ‘em. But. I hate that you disobeyed a direct order AND got yourself injured.” his voice was booming for an old man and Natsu had to admit: he was scared.

“You leave me with no choice.”

“Gramps, no. Anything but that.” Natsu’s voice was exasperated.

“You’re grounded. For an entire week, you won’t leave the apartment and you WON’T be working at the shop either.” Now, Natsu wasn’t worried about funds. Most of his bills were paid by Fairy Tail including his rent. However, being forced away from the shop bothered him. He wouldn’t see Lucy or her friends. And he even liked her friends. Except for Gray. Everyone but him.

“Graaaaamps,” he whined

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

Lucy tapped her pen on the table in anger. She’d heard nothing from Natsu or her soulmate in nearly four days. Lucy was pissed, which wasn’t exactly a first for her, at her soulmate. It wasn’t about the scarring left on her abdomen. This was about her worry. She cared for him; missed him. But he’d gotten seriously injured and dropped off the face of the earth.

Lucy didn’t want to ask the question that was on her mind and it seemed like the redhead didn't either.

“Ah! May I get another winterberry tea? The color is quite refreshing.” Erza’s voice snapped her out of her stupor causing her to watch the exchange closely. She recognized the blunette male from the week prior when she and Natsu had given each other their numbers.

“You think so too? I love the color. It has to be my favorite. It’s a scarlet color, just like your hair.” the pair were smiling at each other with tinted red cheeks and the blonde nearly cooed at the two. The scene felt like sweet tea on her tongue; strong and full of diabetes. Meanwhile, her soulmate gets cut up and just disappears.

The blunette returned to the counter where Juvia, her second-favorite barista, began showing the male the ropes of making Erza’s favorite drink of the week. It’d surely change by next week but Lucy wasn’t one to judge on picky taste. She’d refused to drink a cappuccino made by anyone other than Natsu so she was getting her caffeine via the unlikely source of Earl Grey. It barely took the edge off. Still, somehow she was still steadfast on the pinkette making her drink.

She was also stubbornly waiting for his call. Pale fingers caressed her abdomen where the ragged mark of an ‘X’ now laid upon her skin.

First, her soulmate. Now, Natsu. Hives broke out across her skin as worry fell over her.

“Luce! It’s been a while, huh?”

And truly it hadn’t been.

A/N:

NEXT CHAPTER:

Gruvia. We get some Gruvia.

So next is choosing what scenes you want for each couple next:

NaLu: Balcony Scene or THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED

and

Gajevy: Lucy meets the bae or Kiss in the rain

Gruvia doesn’t get a choice because I have a dream sequence coming for them. Small reminder this is mainly nalu so i’m trying to keep it mainly about them.

I LOOK FORWARD TO NEXT CHAPTER WITH YOU ALL.

#nalu #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #otp: welcome home #ft #thb #the heart beats

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