#like it was typed in a frenzy during my lunch break

[heyclickadee]

Tech’s Alive, Part 6: The Matter of Weight (cw for discussions of death, suicide mention, genocide mention)

AKA, why “Tech should stay dead for the stakes” and “Tech should stay dead so the moment he sacrifices himself retains its weight” are arguments I will not be entertaining in this household. And by this household, I mean my blog. But also probably my actual apartment here in real space.

So, this isn’t really an argument for why Tech is alive, per se. It’s more just me trying to counter the two most common arguments I see people making for why he should be dead, whether the person making the argument thinks he’s dead or not.

Stakes:

The first argument, that Tech should stay dead for the sake of the “stakes” is, to me, the most nebulous. On this here interwebs we tend to talk about “stakes” purely in the negative; everyone’s going to die, the villains are going to win, everything is going to be sad forever, etc. But stakes in a story are really just about potential consequences—what could happen if the characters succeed, and what could happen if they fail. And while it’s true that killing a character can raise the stakes in a story, it’s best accomplished by killing off a secondary character, and it can really only raise them in a story in which death was never a potential consequence.

Death has always been a potential consequence for these characters, not just for failure, but just for existing in the world in which they live. Scratch that, dying is quite literally what they were made to do. This is a series in which two genocides have already taken place—that of the Jedi, then of the Kaminoans—and which has us watching a third ongoing—that of the clones themselves. Almost every new named clone we’ve met has died, and died violently. The clone force 99 characters have all almost died about once an episode so far, and every time they do, the show tends to treat it as a serious close call.

So killing off Tech doesn’t raise the potential consequences of failure to “death” because that potential was always there. Killing off a secondary but known clone character like, say, Howser could have made heightened that risk more effectively. Heck, Mayday’s death does a better job of raising that risk for Crosshair, for example; the only reason Crosshair wasn’t the one who died in the avalanche was was because Mayday noticed the rock and pushed Crosshair out of the way. Killing off Tech and leaving him dead, by contrast, would actually, in a way, lower the stakes—because, again, the risk of “potential consequences” is gone (it’s just reality now), AND stakes are also about what could happen if the characters succeed and get what they want. Meaning that if Tech’s gone for good, the potential positive consequences are much, much lower. The positive consequence of the clone force 99 family reuniting—the thing the story keeps making us want—would just be gone. There’s only so far you can ratchet the spring of tension before it snaps.

That said, when some people argue for Tech’s death in favor of raised stakes, I don’t think the above is really what they’re talking about. They’re mostly making a somewhat edgelordy argument about death needing to feel real in the star war and darkness being the “mature” option. Let’s say I bought that argument. Let’s say I actually thought “the reality of death” and “maturity” were valid reasons to kill off a main character. Let’s even push aside all the reasons why I think killing off any one of the bad batchers permanently would break the story. Let’s do this thought experiment. Killing off Tech in this season and leaving him dead still doesn’t work, specifically because so much time this season was spent on developing and helping the other characters to understand him better.

You can spend time building up a character and developing them for the sole purpose of killing them and giving them a send-off if your show has an unserialized format. Think Gray’s Anatomy or Bones; unserialized shows are just taking the characters and putting them in different combinations or scenarios until the end of time without really worrying about arcs or narrative threads, so in that format spending time with a character before killing them off makes sense. Spending an entire season of a serialized show building up a character and their relationships, using them to develop certain themes and narrative threads, using them to push certain parts of the plot forward, and then killing them off in which a way which does nothing to resolve any of those arcs, themes, or narrative threads, though? That’s just a waste of time. Of limited time—because fully serialized shows have an ending. I’d be more willing to buy into this line of argument if it was Wrecker, not Tech, simply because he hasn’t had the kind of development Tech has.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d still absolutely hate it and would see perma-deathing Wrecker as just as story breaking as perma-deathing Tech. But if we’re doing the thought experiment where I’m talking about stakes the way some people seem to be doing, I could see it working better in that context than perma-deathing Tech. People can make that argument about Tech’s “death,” sure, but what they’re really advocating for is bad writing. And hey! Maybe we’ll get to the end of the show and it will turn out to have been badly written! I just…don’t really buy that right now.

(Of course, this is all moot anyway, because I fundamentally disagree with the definition of stakes being used by some people making this argument and see this line of thinking as somewhat edgelordy bologna anyway. But! Moving on.)

Wanting Tech’s Sacrifice to Have Weight:

So, I’m more sympathetic to this line of thinking. I don’t agree with it, but I can kind of respect where it’s coming from. I’ve mostly seen this from people who really hate the idea that Tech is dead, but don’t see a way for the moment in which Tech sacrifices himself to maintain its emotional weight if it turns out he’s alive, and who want the writers to respect Tech’s choice. And I get that. I’ve watched more than one show that had some big emotional moment that got completely ruined by being undone or having some other development come up later on. So it’s not that I think this argument is invalid; I just don’t think it applies in this specific case.

Because…okay, first, when it comes to the writers respecting Tech’s choice, I want us to think really hard about what he’s choosing to do. Because he’s not choosing to die. Not exactly. He’s choosing to do something extremely risky that will probably get him killed, and he knows it, in order to save his family. And I know it maybe doesn’t seem like there’s a distinction there, but there is one, and it’s important, because—I mean—listen to that last heavy sigh he gives before his last line. He doesn’t want to do it. He doesn’t want to die. He just doesn’t see any way out for the others if he doesn’t risk it. (Also I feel like the “the writers need to respect his choice argument” really kind of…not…real great bad, actually, it’s real bad guys, even if he was choosing to die, specifically, because that’s way too close to advocating for suicide for comfort. I don’t think that’s what anyone is intending by this argument but….)

Second, I don’t agree that Tech’s “death” is what gives that moment its emotional weight. Let’s say that Tech does die here. Let’s say he really isn’t coming back. In that case, his death is kind of meaningless, because he was going to die anyway. If we’re saying he died, then it was either all of them die, or just him. Which means that the thing that gives that moment weight can’t be his death, because he had no way out of dying, if we’re looking at it that way and accepting that he’s just gone for good.

The thing that gives that moment weight—just a warning, I’m about to get tooth-achingly schmaltzy here, and I’m not sorry—is love. It’s everyone in the batch’s love for Tech shattering into a million little pieces of grief and horror as they watch him fall. It’s Tech loving his family so damn much he refuses to even consider letting them fall with him. It’s Tech, not knowing that he’s a character in a story, looking at the situation, knowing what he’s about to do will probably kill him—because if he wasn’t a character in a story, it probably would—knowing that if he does it he’ll probably never see Crosshair again, never see Echo or Hunter at peace, never get to hear Wrecker laugh again, never get to see Omega grow up, and still choosing to take the fall for them because there’s no chance he’d let them take the same risk. That’s why that moment has meaning. And because that’s where the meaning comes from, I can’t see how that meaning or weight would evaporate if he came back.

I mean—let’s say you were waking down the street with a friend. You step out in front of a bus, purely by accident. Your friend notices and pushes you out of the way, and in so doing steps in front of the bus, gets hit, and miraculously survives. Does their survival do anything to decrease the fact that they were willing to get hit by a bus for you? Are we really going to argue “death, or it doesn’t count” when it comes to self-sacrifice?

Furthermore, the “Tech has to stay dead for his sacrifice to have weight” argument seems to be made at least partly from the point of view that “dead” and “fully abled” are the only two options. They’re not. Other people have covered the possibility that Tech will come back with a physical disability that he has to adjust to way better than I ever could, but that’s a very real consequence the show could deal with.

I don’t really have a conclusion to this. Basically, while I have seen the stakes and weight arguments floating around, I don’t really see either of them as valid narrative arguments for keeping Tech dead, and I wanted to explain why.

#the bad batch #tbb spoilers #the bad batch speculation #sort of #tech’salive #tech’saliveseries #ya thought you were rid of me #something something bad penny #if this reads #like it was typed in a frenzy during my lunch break #that’s because it was #cw death #cw suicide mention #cw genocide mention

[miyagihawk]

for hawk

lover of mine - 5sos

it's a selfship anthem, bby!

the lyrics make so much sense

i love 5sos!!!! ty for the request :)

lover of mine | eli “hawk” moskowitz x reader

warnings: cursing, i think that’s it?

summary: based on lover of mine by 5sos <3

Lover of mine

Maybe we'll take some time

Kaleidoscope mind

Gets in the way

Your relationship with Hawk was more complicated than most.

You had to be patient with him. His mind was like a kaleidoscope; his thoughts were in intricate patterns that you could never comprehend. It amazed you, but it also frustrated you when you couldn’t understand him.

And when it seemed like you finally did understand, he would shift into new colors and you’d have to start all over again.

“I just- I don’t get you, Hawk! Why are you always lying to me?” you said loudly, already feeling exhausted from the argument.

“I’m not! You just never believe me!” he turned it on you. Like always.

You looked at him with a hard stare and crossed your arms. “Did you or did you not break Demetri’s arm?” you asked in a calmer, but still threatening tone.

You already knew the answer; everyone was talking about what happened in the laser tag room. But here Hawk was, denying it. You just couldn’t grasp why he hid so much from you.

When he stayed silent with his gaze not meeting yours, you sat on your bed with an exasperated sigh.“We should take a break,” you interrupted the quiet atmosphere, looking up at where your boyfriend stood in front of you.

“What?” Hawk finally met your eyes with a hurt expression.

You patted the spot on the bed next to you, and he sat reluctantly. “I’m just tired. We need a break Hawk.”

“We don’t need a break,” he protested quietly, and the subtle sadness in his voice was enough to make your heart pang with hurt.

Hope and I pray

Darling, that you will stay

Butterfly lies

Chase them away

He was scared. Even through all the countless arguments and lies, you never left. Now you were suggesting a break, and Hawk knows from seeing other relationships that they always just end in an actual break up.

In a weird way, you did want to scare him. Because he would never change if you didn’t. You hated the idea of a break, but maybe Hawk would finally stop lying to you if you showed him you were serious.

“It’s not a breakup,” you assured, because you knew what he was thinking. For once. “We just need time apart for a little bit. To think.”

“About what?” he asked defensively, starting to raise his voice again.

“You and I. We’re quite toxic, you know?” you contrasted his volume in a lighter tone, making his face relax and his lips turn up a bit.

His small smile dropped suddenly, replaced by an anxious expression. “Don’t leave me Y/N.”

Your heart dropped at his words, and you wanted to wrap your arms around him. To tell him you’d never leave and that it was all okay. But it wasn’t all okay.

You grabbed his hand instead, “You’re my best friend. I love you. But I need this, okay? We both do. Just some time to figure out how we can fix... us.”

“I can fix it now, we don’t need to take a break. Please. I’ll never lie to you again. I just- I hate disappointing you,” he pleaded, tightening his hand around yours, and you wanted to give in.

But you knew that letting this go on, this never ending cycle, would only end with the both of you in a huge crash and burn.

“You said that last time,” you gave him a sad smile. “Let’s just figure our shit out, and then come back better for each other. We need this Hawk.”

-

6 months later

Things didn’t end so well after your break with Hawk. After spending some time apart, you two were just never close again.

None of you planned for it to happen; you just drifted away from each other. And neither of you exactly established when the “break” would be over.

So for the next few months, you passed each other in the halls without any acknowledgment of the other’s existence. Of course you missed him, but not being with him just became the new normal. And you accepted it and pushed your feelings aside.

“So you’ll meet us there? You sure you don’t want the limo to pick you up?” your friend Cara asked from across the lunch table.

“Yeah don’t worry about me, Jesse’s picking me up,” you replied, making the rest of your friends wiggle their eyebrows teasingly.

“What happened to prom with the girls, Y/N? I thought we established no boyfriends during prom season,” Cara pouted playfully, and you elbowed her in the ribs.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He just asked me to prom and that’s it,” you corrected.

Your other friend jumped in, “And why not? Jesse is so cute.”

As she asked, your eyes trailed away from your friends and towards a certain someone with loud red hair, sitting across the room with his karate posse.

Your group noticed your lack of attention and turned to see what you were looking at. They sighed in unison, making you bring your focus back to them.

“He’s why, isn’t he?” Cara gave you an understanding smile and rubbed your shoulder comfortingly. “It’s okay. Just have fun tonight.”

You only nodded, giving your kind friends a soft smile of appreciation.

As much as you tried to convince yourself that you’ve moved on fully, the boy with a kaleidoscope mind would always have a place in your heart.

-

Where is he?

You paced around your living room anxiously, checking your phone for what seemed like the millionth time in the past hour.

You scrolled through the numerous texts you’ve sent, contemplating if you should send another one. Calling him wasn’t even an option; it went straight to voicemail everytime.

After an hour and a half, you gave up waiting and hoping that your prom date would show up. You flopped down onto the couch despairingly, replying to worried texts from your friends.

‘I’m not going to make it, just don’t worry about me. Have fun my loves.’ you typed, throwing your phone onto the floor right after.

You didn’t want to ask them to pick you up and ruin their night, and you were honestly too drained from being stood up to call an Uber.

So prom night ended up with you spread out on the couch with your outfit that you’ve planned out months ago, eating out of a carton of rocky road ice cream.

Honestly, it could’ve been worse. You could’ve been spending the night with an absolute jerk named Jesse. (a/n: so sorry if ur name is jesse lmao)

In the middle of your rom com movie marathon, an abrupt knock at the front door made you sit up from your pathetic, ice cream eating position on the sofa.

Immediately, you turned off the TV and tiptoed towards the door. You silently grabbed the baseball bat next to it, while squinting to see through the peephole.

Your stomach immediately dropped when you saw him.

Clad in a black suit, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

Shifting on his feet and chewing on his lip nervously, as he waited for you to open the door.

The boy you didn’t know you needed to see until now.

What is he doing here?

You covered your mouth in shock as you ran to the mirror to check if you had chocolate stains around your mouth. You smoothed down your hair and straightened out your dress in a frenzy, before unlocking the door with a deep breath in.

“Hawk?” you tried to act surprised, which wasn’t hard because your heart was racing.

He took a second to look at you in your wasted prom attire, and he was locked in a trance for a second before he snapped out of it. “Oh... uh, these are for you,” he held out the flowers to you and you took them with a smile.

“Wow, I love them. Thank you,” you brought them up to your nose for a whiff of your favorite floral scent. “So, what are you doing here?” you asked awkwardly.

“Oh crap, sorry, do you want to come in?” you said before he would answer, and you opened the door wider so he could step inside.

Hawk looked around the room where he’s been countless times, and he frowned at the sight of 13 Going On 30 paused on the screen with half melted ice cream on the coffee table. That movie plus the sweet dessert was your absolute comfort pairing, and it made him sad that you needed it.

“Cara texted me, and I was worried,” he finally spoke, answering your earlier question. You suddenly felt embarrassed as you placed the bouquet in a vase. You didn’t want to be pitied. Especially by your ex-boyfriend.

“I’m fine,” you said bluntly, busying yourself with the flowers so that you wouldn’t have to face him. You hadn’t talked to him since the night you suggested the break, and you already felt too exhausted from tonight’s events to even talk about it with him. “It’s better that I didn’t go to prom with that dick.”

Hawk chuckled at your remark, and you felt more at ease. The tension between you was thicker than an iceberg, and you didn’t know if you could handle it.

“So did you leave? Or are you just dressed up like that for me?” you smiled, sitting down on the couch where he followed.

He laughed again, lightening the mood even more. “I was there, but you know, Cara told me about what happened and... I just felt like I needed to come. It was lame though. The whole thing is just dancing. And I don’t dance,” Hawk explained, and you found yourself smiling at the thought of him caring about you. “But I know how excited you were about prom, so I thought I’d bring it to you. Some romantic shit like that.”

Your eyebrows raised at “romantic shit”, but you decided not to say anything about it. Although, it did make your cheeks heat up and you hoped he didn’t notice. “That’s really sweet Hawk. Thank you. Really,” you placed your hand on top of his, but you recoiled awkwardly because it felt too intimate, given the circumstances.

You cleared your throat, “So... since you’re bringing prom to me, does that mean I get a dance?” you got up and stood in front of him with your arms playfully crossed.

Hawk squinted his blue eyes at you, crossing his arms as well, “I don’t dance, remember?”

“For me you will, right? Or I could just, you know, dance by myself. It’s already been such a great night for me,” you teased, walking away from him towards a clear space in the living room.

He groaned from behind you and got up to follow, making you cheer happily. “For you I will,” he stated under his breath, releasing dozens of butterflies in your stomach.

Dance around the living room

Lose me in the sight of you

I've seen the red, I've seen the blue

Take all of me

You turned on your Dad’s old record player, where a slow, jazzy, 60s vinyl was spinning. You almost wanted to change it because it felt too romantic, but Hawk was already waiting behind you and you were scared he would change his mind.

The rush his presence gave you made you boldly put your hands on his shoulders, and he stiffly placed his own on the curve of your waist. Your hands were locked at the nape of his neck; his hold on you was light as if you were fragile china.

You forgot how intoxicating it felt to be this close to him, and you wondered how you went so long without that feeling.

The both of you swayed to the smooth melodies of Nina Simone with interlocked eyes, and with every second his hands on your hips became more relaxed. You rested your head on his chest, pulling him closer.

For a song or two, none of you said anything; there was just an unspoken appreciation of each other’s presence. After 6 months without him, you needed this.

I'll never give you away

'Cause I've already made that mistake

If my name never fell off your lips again

I know it'd be such a shame

When I take a look at my life

And all of my crimes

You're the only thing that I think I got I right

“I should’ve never let you go,” Hawk whispered close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I was the one who wanted the break. It’s my fault,” you opposed, lifting your head up from his chest to look up at him.

He raised one of his hands to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, and it brought a warm smile to your face. “But I didn’t chase after you,” his lips turned down into a frown.

You put your hands on the sides of his face while you two continued to sway to the staticky vinyl. “Maybe it’s both of our faults,” you laughed lightly, touching his soft skin.

“It’s me Y/N. I’m the one who lied to you throughout the whole relationship. I’m so sorry,” Hawk looked down at you with glossy eyes. “I’ve done so much fucked up shit. But you’re the only thing I got right. I hate myself for ruining it too.”

Your felt yourself melt at his confession. “It’s not ruined,” you disputed. “You aren’t perfect and I’m not either. I shouldn’t have given up on us. I’m sorry.”

He closed his eyes in peace as your hands ran through his bright hair. It was down from its usual style, giving him a softer look.

“Maybe we both messed up. But I’m never giving you away again Y/N. I won’t make that mistake. I love you,” the boy you’ve missed for months admitted, saying everything you wanted to hear.

You kissed him in reply.

a/n: ah idk if i like this but i hope u do, i feel like my writings are getting repetitive im having bad writers block (as u can tell by how slow im doing requests)

#cobra kai #eli moskowitz #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz x reader #hawk imagine #hawk x reader #cobrakai

[bunnyywritings]

true love’s kiss

tenya iida x gn!reader

word count: 1.5k

requested by @coleluuviida : So may I request a iida tenya x gn! reader? The plot I want is where reader likes reading a lot of books and comics, they will read romance, action, horror, etc. So then one day reader and the dekusquad are eating lunch together, reader was quick eating their lunch so that they can continue reading their book but then iida ask about what their reading and reader go on and on how, and why they like the story with passion iida was listen with joy even the dekusquad are listening in. After that reader let iida borrow their book the rest is up to your imagination!

[a/n: thank you so much for trusting me with your request sweetheart!! i’m sorry it took so long but here it is, i hope you enjoy! I kinda got carried away...it’s been a while since i’ve properly written so i apologize if it’s not very good :/ without further adieu, here’s some adorable iida content cause he’s the best and deserves the world - yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´-]

It was never strange to see you with your nose buried in between the pages of a book. Your friends found it endearing.Some people, literally just Bakugou, found it a bit ridiculous. 

Denki and Kirishima made a game out of it. They would bet on the genre you were reading purely based on your reactions alone. If your cheeks ever got flushed and your eyes wide, 10/10 it was probably a cheesy romance manga. If your brows were furrowed and your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, it was a mystery novel. A forlorn look in your eyes ment it was some type of magical book with Knights, Wizards, and Dragons (oh my!)

But somebody in particular, albeit enamored by your love of literature, was also concerned.

Iida was in your group of friends and so he had witnessed first hand your obsession with finishing a book. Sometimes you wouldn't eat during lunch because you were so enthralled and when he did get you to eat something, you raced to finish your food so you could grab your book once more and pick up where you left off. You weren't much of a talker and no one at the table really minded your lack of conversation and let you be.

However, this time around, it was different. Iida noticed the bags under your eyes and knew that you hadn't been sleeping. You had been engaging in class and you were keeping up with your studies but the second you guys were allowed a break or you all were let out for lunch, you picked up your book and resumed reading.

Even as you walked with them to the cafeteria, your eyes hadn't left the page. You had your book in one hand and your other was gripping the end of Shoto's blazer, leading you to where you needed to go.

 "It must be a really good one this time." Kirishima muttered to Denki, both watching in amusement as you were being led around by a nonchalant Shoto.

So as you sat at the lunch table, Iida watched in concern. Even with your favorite food in front of you, you still hadn't put the book down. As much as he hated what he was about to do, he just couldn't do nothing.

"(Y/n), as much as I hate to disrupt your reading...I must know, is a book really more important than sleep? Or more important than eating a healthy meal?"

All conversation came to a screeching halt. No one had ever really disrupted your reading before...so no one knew what to expect when Iida spoke up. The seconds were tense as they ticked by and as you moved your hand, they all held their breath, but instead of bookmarking your page, your finger deftly slipped under the corner of the page and turned to the next one.

 "Huh...they didn't even hear you." Ochako giggled.

Sighing, Iida reached over and placed his hand flat on the pages, successfully obstructing your view of the letter on the pages.  

"(Y/n)..."

Normally, you'd be a slight bit annoyed that someone had interrupted you but it was Iida. Sweet, sweet Iida.

"Oh. Sorry." Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, "I must've not heard you. What's wrong?"

Iida sighs.

“I'm just concerned, is all. What's got you so interested?"

 "You really want to know?" He noticed how your eyes twinkled with excitement.

 "Yes, I really want to know."

And with that, you went off on a whole tangent.

Explaining the story from the very beginning. Giving character description with wild and elaborate hand gestures. Even going as far as adding sound effects to fight scenes. This was nothing new for Shoto or Midoriya. They had often asked about the stories you read and quite enjoyed hearing you re-tell them. Shoto never had anyone tell him bedtime stories but he assumes

this is what they would've been like.

Iida was stunned. Absolutely stunned. He's never seen you speak about something so passionately, other than the time he had asked you why you wanted to be a hero.

So as you went on and explained what you've been reading, he felt himself fall even more. He was intently listening.

You had been reading a rom-com style, action book about two knights going on a quest to slay a dragon to break an evil curse. There were wizards and mystical forest creatures. Once you finished, you had asked if he wanted to read it once you were done.

Now...this wasn't really Iida's cup of tea. Don't get him wrong, he loves sitting and enjoying a book but fantasy books

aren't really his style.

  "So..? Would you want to read it? Ya' know, see for yourself?" The look in your eyes was absolutely adorable, he couldn't possibly say no.

    "S-Sure, I'd love to borrow it."

He wasn't too worried though, you still had a few chapters to go and surely you'd forget about it.

Boy was he wrong.

As he was getting ready for bed, the knock on his door confused him. Upon opening the door, there you stood in your pajamas

with the book tightly clutched in your hands.

    "Sorry I took so long but here you go. Let me know what you think." You had an excited smile playing on your lips.

    "Oh...thank you." He reached out and took the book from your outstretched grasp.

He read through the first chapter before going to bed, slightly intrigued.

It took him about a month to read, maybe a little longer since he definitely took breaks and focused more on school than anything...but eventually, he finished. 

You had been hanging out in the common room when Iida had walked in, book in hand. It took you a while to notice since  you had been buried in another . 

    “Oh, hey Iida!” Ochako grinned. 

You turned and took notice of what was in his possession and your smile grew.

    “You finished! What’d you think?” 

    “Uhm well, it was quite...quite interesting-” He was fumbling with his words, something that’s a bit unusual for him. 

    “Oh...you didn’t like it?” your face fell and his heart dropped a little.

    “No, no! What I mean is that-!”

    “It’s okay, you can be honest. It’s not for everyone.” 

    “I did like it but there’s something that I didn’t quite understand. Why would they risk leaving the magma gem? From my understanding, it would’ve given them the abilities needed to slay the dragon.” The complete and utter confusion on his face was adorable. 

    “Come on, Ingenium!” You chuckled quietly. “If they had gotten the gem, they wouldn’t have been able to save their partner. Remember, sometimes the best strategy is to run and get help instead of fighting a fight that you can’t win.” 

    “But they didn’t even slay the dragon!”

    “They didn’t because that wasn’t needed to break the curse. The only way to break the curse was with true love’s kiss.” 

    “That’s not very logical. How would that break a deadly curse?” 

    “Don’t underestimate the power of love, Iida. It’s quite strong.” 

Upon hearing those words he looked up from the book and into your eyes...had they always been that mesmerizing? His heart hammered in his chest as he parted his lips to speak once more. 

    “W-would you show me?” This was a big leap of faith for him. He had confided in Midoriya a while ago when he realized his feelings for you, and ever the observant one, Midoriya had a feeling that you felt the same way. There had been multiple times where he had caught you gazing longingly at the class rep. 

Now you...you were stunned. Your cheeks had flushed red and your mouth was agape. Taking your silence as a rejection, he swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. 

    “I apologize, that was quite forward of me. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” He placed the book down on the couch and got up. Once he turned away from you, you had realized that the words in your head never left your mouth so you reached out and grabbed his wrist. 

        “Wait…” your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard you and turned back around. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I’m just surprised that you feel the same way I do.” 

There was a small silence that followed but your body seemed to move on its own. You held his face in your hands, the feeling of your thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones sent the butterflies into a frenzy. 

    “Can I still kiss you?” Your voice was hesitant, quiet, and it made him smile, gazing into your eyes with such a fondness that it made your stomach do flips. 

    “Yes...please.” 

That was all you needed before leaning in, his eyes and yours fluttered shut as your lips met. Both of you were unsure but he trusted you and you trusted him. The feeling of his lips moving languidly with yours was absolutely euphoric. He tasted like mint and black tea, and his lips were soft. Gaining confidence, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. 

After finally pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours. 

    “Believe it’s strong enough now?” 

    “Hmm…” His chest vibrated as he hummed in feign thoughtfulness. “I may need more convincing.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha x gn!reader #mha x gn!reader #tenya iida x reader #tenya iida x gn!reader #request

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Family - 9

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2443

Warnings:  Pregnancy, mentions of past child abuse

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family.  When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 9: Ghost of Family Past

It wasn’t long before I felt settled in the new place.  I loved the house out at the compound and I was glad we had it, but it had been so large that it still felt a lot like a hotel to me.  This new layout at the tower and the familiarity of being in the place where I’d spent so much time, I felt at home.  Not to mention it was nice being in the city again.  We could order in food, something that had been impossible out at the compound.  It was great having the big meals where we arranged them all by type and then just took what we wanted again.  People had gone back to stealing things from each other’s plates.  All these little habits that had been a huge part of our collective lives were coming back and I loved it even after a few days.

Things quickly found their rhythm too.  Natasha and Wanda’s morning sickness was hitting hard in the morning so they were generally staying home.  Wanda was in full nesting mode.  She was spending a lot of time with the kids and looking at baby clothes online.  Natasha was working in the office, going over mission briefings, and compiling intel.  She also was adamant that we did not take the kids out without her, so she would finish work in the afternoons and take them and anyone else that wanted to go to the park and the library for storytime.  Her new cloaking powers meant that they were going to be able to live a fairly normal childhood in the end.  Or at least, paparazzi free.

I was mostly spending my time between the lab and home and planned to keep it that way as long as I could.  So far I wasn’t getting any morning sickness.  I was still really only barely pregnant, so all those signs hadn’t kicked in yet, though I was expecting them to start soon.  Mostly I was just relaxed and enjoying life returning to normal.

Bucky had booked Tyr and Spotty in to be groomed and the two of us went to take them to the groomers during our lunch break one day not long after getting back.  It was the first time I had gone out without Natasha since the wedding and so my first experience with the paparazzi after they got word that I had married Tony Stark.

They had been grouped around the front door and security had to push them back as we made our way out with the dogs.  Mostly they were calling out my name and asking about the wedding.  Some seemed to be trying to make Bucky angry for some inconceivable reason.  Yelling out to him about being a second choice.  Luckily he was good at keeping his reactions neutral.  He just put his arm around me and pulled me a little closer.

“Should have gone out the back,” I said.

He shrugged.  “They’re around there too.  Just ignore them.  You’re all glowy so the pics are gonna be nice.”

I giggled.  “‘Cause that’s what I care about.”

“Just keep walking, don't engage.  Security will keep them out of arm's length and if they get past them, they won’t have any arms when I’m done with them,” Bucky said.

“Bucky!” I scolded.

He chucked and rubbed my shoulder.  “I was kidding.”

“How long will we have to worry about them?”  I asked, looking back over my shoulder at the crowd following after us.

“They’re just greedy ‘cause they don’t get how the wedding thing worked.  They’ll get over it soon.  It’s not like they’re gonna catch us going out that way very often,” Bucky explained.  “If it makes you feel any better, the dogs think they’re fucking annoying too.”

I laughed.  “Oh no, babies,” I cooed and reached down and scratched Spotty’s back.

“You better pat Tyr too,” Bucky said. “He’s jealous.”

I bit back more laughter and pet the Cavalier awkwardly as we kept moving.

“Elly!”

The use of my less formal name by someone in the crowd drew my attention and I turned to see who had called out.  The voice was familiar too, and yet it wasn’t until I saw who was calling out to me that I recognized who it was.

“Elly, please.”  My younger sister was being held back by two security guards, looking at me imploringly.  I hadn’t heard from any of my family in years.  I had kept in touch with my sisters for a little while after I ran away from home, but when they started dating what my father would have considered the right people and I remained the black sheep.  The last time I spoke to any of them was around the time I had been kidnapped by Madame Masque and only then was I calling my father once a month so he wouldn’t send out the police to find me.

“It’s alright,” I said the security.  Bucky looked at me confused.   “It’s my sister,” I explained quietly as they let her through.

He nodded.  “Keep walking,” he said, his voice low and serious.

I started walking again letting Amanda catch up to me.  I wasn’t sure what to say to her.  Or why she was here.  It wasn’t like people hadn’t known where I was for the past six years.  I’d been in the media on and off since my first date with Tony.

“Tell us what you want,” Bucky said as she pulled up next to us.  There was a growl in his voice.  He was angry and protective and worried Amanda was here to hurt me.

“It’s okay, Buck,” I said rubbing his hip.  “Let her say what she wants to say.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch,” Amanda said.

“I didn’t exactly keep in touch either, Mandy,” I said.

She shrugged a little.  “I know but I was the one that stopped first.”

I could feel Bucky tensing more and more as we walked.  I slipped my hand into his back pocket and looked up at him.  “It’s okay,” I said quietly.  He scowled at me and nodded but he didn’t relax at all.

“So… what?”  I asked.  “You suddenly got into the mood to make amends and you thought rather than calling or reaching out to me online you’d stalk my home?”

“It’s not like that,” Amanda said.  “You cut us all off when you started -” she waved her hand in the direction of me and Bucky.  “-all of this.  We haven’t been able to get through to you.”

“We?”  I asked, not sure who exactly she meant by ‘we’.  Then the rest of what she’d said sunk in.  “Wait… what?”

“Mom and dad.  They’ve been trying to get through to you, but they can’t get past your security,” I stopped walking and it took a few steps for either Buck or Amanda to realize I wasn’t with them anymore.

“El?”  Bucky said, turning back to me.

“Why wouldn’t I have been told that my parents were trying to get in contact with me?”  I asked.

Bucky shook his head.  “I don’t know, doll,” he replied.  “Would you want them to?”

“I - I -” I shook my head, trying to clear it.  My brain was a jumble of thoughts that involved my abusive parents trying to get back into my life and my overprotective spouses not telling me shit that directly involved me again.  “How long?  When did they first try?”

“We need to keep moving, El,” Bucky said.

“When?!”  I shouted.  The paparazzi had all started taking pictures in a frenzy like this was the best scoop they’d ever gotten.  Bucky moved to me quickly, putting his arm around my waist.

“Come on, darlin’.  Not here,” he said quietly.

I nodded and we started walking again.  “When was it?” I asked again.

“When they read about the wedding,” she said.

“Oh, that’d be right,” I snarked, rolling my eyes. “And you haven’t thought about me at all?  You have a niece and nephew and it didn’t cross your mind.”

“Well, so do you,” Amanda retorted.  “You’re hardly in a position to judge me for that.”

“You have kids?”  I asked, frowning as I looked her over.  She looked a lot like me.  Her hair was cut short, in one of those ‘I want to speak to the manager’ styles, and she was dressed in a grey skirt suit.  But aside from the styling differences between us, there was no mistaking this woman was my sister.

“Yes, three,” she said.  “And so does Olivia, and so does Ian.”

“Right,” I said.  “I’m sorry.”

We’d arrived at the dog groomers and Bucky turned to Amanda.  “Wait here,” he growled.

Amanda drew herself up, obviously not used to being ordered around by random strangers.  “Now listen here…”

“No, you listen to me,” Bucky hissed.  “You ambush us while we’re out walking the dogs and you think you get to run the show?  I don’t fuckin’ think so.  You’re gonna wait here while we drop our dogs off and then we’ll talk.”

Amanda took a few steps back like she was facing a wild animal.  Bucky put his hand in the middle of my back and guided me inside.  “You okay?”  He asked.

“I … I don’t really know,” I admitted.  I didn’t know how I felt.  It was a mess.

“Tell her to fuck off then,” Bucky said, picking Tyr up and putting him in my arms.

“She wasn’t the one that hit me, Buck,” I said.  “She was a kid in that house too.”

“Right,” Bucky huffed.  He picked up Spotty and we carried them to the counter.  We checked them in and were given some paperwork and a time to pick them back up and Bucky took me aside.  “Alright, this is what we’re gonna do.  We’ll take her to that bar on the corner.  Get something to eat and get to the bottom of why exactly she’s here.  Then we’ll get the dogs and go home and you can think about it, alright?”

I nodded.  I couldn’t fault the logic.  He went to move and I grabbed his arm.  “Why didn’t anyone tell me they were trying to get in touch?”

“I don’t know, El,” he said.  “I promise if I did I’d tell you.  I’m guessing either Steve or Tony said not to let their calls come through, or they just haven’t got that far into the messages while we were away.”

“Right,” I said.

“You can ask them tonight,” he said.  “It’s gonna be okay.  I promise.  I’m here.  You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

I nodded and we went out to find Amanda.  She was waiting with our security detail and Bucky approached her.  She took a few steps back, and I saw that same kind of terror in her eyes I always felt when I knew I was in trouble.  It made me feel sick and I hurried up to Bucky and took his elbow.  “Mandy,” I said quickly.  “Can we have lunch?  Talk this over?”

Her eyes flicked from Bucky to me and she nodded.  “Yes.  Yes, please.”

We walked down to the bar in silence, me clinging to Bucky’s hand.  We were given a booth in the back and some of the security took a booth near us, while others waited outside.  After a quick peruse of the menu, Bucky went to place an order for us.  I wanted nothing more than to order a whole tray of shots and just drink myself into a coma, but thankfully rationality won out.

“Ended up with someone just like dad after all, didn’t you?”  Amanda snapped when Bucky went to the bar.

“Bucky is nothing like our father,” I hissed, balling my fists under the table.

“Right, looks it,” she snarked.

I clenched my jaw as I tried not to completely lose my temper.  I wanted to just yell at her that she didn’t know him and she didn’t know me.  That I hadn’t ever felt safer with anyone than I had with the people I was with.  But there was no point.  She had her idea of what he was like and while he was in angry protective mode, that wouldn’t change.

“Why are you here?  Really?” I asked.  “And why now?”

Bucky returned to the table with a number, a glass of white wine for Amanda, a beer for him, and a pineapple juice for me.  He sat close to me, putting his arm around my shoulders and resting his hand on my hip.

Amanda’s eyes flicked to Bucky and back to me and she let out a breath.  “Mom and dad asked me to come.  You’d blocked them on most things, and they tried calling the Avengers people, but they weren’t getting through.  They want to see you.”

“Over my dead body,” Bucky growled.

“Buck, honey.  I really need you to not do that,” I said.  He huffed and took a drink of his beer.

Amanda took a sip of her wine and fiddled with the glass.  “They did think about it when you were pregnant.”

“But they waited until I got a rich husband, huh?” I snarked.

“They’ve changed, Elly,” Amanda said.  “Dad’s mellowed out.”

I shook my head.  “Uh-huh.  And the fact they’ve chosen now that I’ve married one of the most famous billionaires to get in contact is a coincidence.”

Amanda sagged a little and blinked her eyes.  “Elly, I know it was harder for you than the rest of us.  I know that when you ran away they just wrote you off.  When it came out you were in this big -” she waved her hands again.

“Polyamorous.  The word you’re looking for is polyamorous,” I hissed.

“Right, that,” Amanda said.  “He completely lost it.  Said it was going to look bad on them.  That if people found out he’d lose his position.”

“You’re not spinning it in his favor there, Mandy,” I deadpanned.

She sighed.  “I know, but… he’s your dad.  And they’re your kid’s grandparents.  They’re really good grandparents.”

Bucky stiffened up.  “If you think for one second, I’m letting my kids near that monster…”

Amanda leaned over the table and put her hand on mine.  “Please, Elly.  Consider it.  For me.”

There was a fear in her eyes and I looked down.  There was a thread that joined me to her.  It was very faint and hard to see with all the other much brighter ones.  I looked at it and I knew… we were family and I was going to have to meet with my parents.

// NEXT

#the avengers #steve rogers #bucky barnes #tony stark #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #clint barton #wanda maximoff #sam wilson #avengers fanfic #avengers x oc #steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #tony stark x oc #stucky #clintasha #natasha romanoff x oc #wanda maximoff x oc #clint barton x oc #bruce banner x oc #sam wilson x oc #all caps #thor x oc #thor #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #the tower #pregnancy

[spicysoftsweet]

Okay so hear me out, HELLO FIRST OF ALL :), I was reading your list of "normal things Hisoka does" and smiled at "hisoka sitting down with investment portfolio manager and talking about his financial goals". I was like "wow lucky lady who gets to sit in front of his fine self" but then I was also like "...what if they get NSFW at work!?":$ Sooooo if you don't mind (and want to), can I ask for an imagine of that with Hisoka (or Illumi he can get it too lol) Thank you

LET ME JUST LET YOU KNOW THAT I AM ASHAMED OF THIS. Man this is so dirty. Also it’s a tiny bit cracky on top of being NSFW. Also just assume at some point Hisoka put on a condom. Anyway here you go.

You sipped the last of your coffee, tapping your foot impatiently under the desk as you watched the clock on the bottom right corner of your office computer.

Late. Your client was late.

And as a result, you were now almost twenty minutes into your already too short lunch break, which you usually took starting 11:30am, just so that you could cover phone calls during the noon hours when everyone else would leave the office.

How could someone be late when it comes to talking about money? Didn’t they care?

Suddenly, you heard a sharp knock on your door, as if the very heavens were telling you to get over yourself. Hastily setting your mug down, and quickly closing out of Facelook, you fixed your customer service smile back onto your face and sat up straight in your chair, the picture of professionalism. You wouldn’t let whatever sloppy everyman who came in ruin your dedication to your craft.

Before you could even say ‘Come on in!’, a tall, somehow attractively disheveled-looking young man burst into the room, pausing briefly as he looked around, then giving you a half-smile that was almost inappropriately seductive. Or maybe you were just imagining it.

“Sorry that I’m late.” He said with a soft chuckle, adjusting his loose tie and smoothing out his slightly tight suit jacket as he sat down in the chair across from you, without asking your permission.

You faltered just a little bit before standing up and reaching out your hand to shake his, and introducing yourself as his new financial advisor. 

“Mr. M-Morow, is it?” You said, warmth settling in your cheeks as you looked him in the eyes. It was a warm summer day, but just a few hours ago the room had been freezing. His eyes were golden, narrow and heavy-lidded which gave him the impression of studying you a little too closely, which you realized was making you a little bit uncomfortable. He nodded slowly, still smiling all the while, his legs crossed and leaning forward. He was waiting for you to speak. 

While you opened up his portfolio and took a look at his rudimentary profile, all you could think of was how the clearly-borrowed, ill-fitting navy suit outlined his broad shoulders, narrow waist and obviously muscular arms. You gulped slightly focusing on the screen before you.

“I-It looks like you have never made any investments before,” you said, your voice higher than usual. You silently berated yourself in your head; this was so embarrassing. You hoped your pits weren’t sweating through your blouse with how warm it was in the room.  You really needed to fix the AC the moment this meeting was done.

He didn’t respond, so you looked back at him for a nonverbal response, and he was still watching you carefully, now leaned in even further, his chin resting in his hand.

This was too much. Your heart started to pound, and you started talking loudly to distract yourself.

“Do you own a mortgage or have a car that you’re leasing currently?” You asked. 

“Nope,” he said, curtly.

“Okay, uh.. Do you have any overseas investments?”  You followed up now, hoping for a reasonable response you could work with. 

“None at all,” he almost sang.

You turned to him again, your concern about his financial profile now outweighing your concern about how you were going to keep your panties dry during this meeting. You hated when people made your job difficult for you.

“What made you interested in investing now?” You asked, as politely as possible. While he was 28 years old based on his application, which was younger than many people who came into your office, he seemed disinterested himself in this meeting, his gaze still resting comfortably on you.

“I recently came into a large sum of money.”

“Inheritance?” You asked, preparing to give condolences to a likely deceased family member.

“Prize money,” he leaned back in his chair, relaxed and crossing his arms over his chest. A power pose. “To be fair, I’ve been winning the same amount every year, but it’s been building up.”

“What do you do for a living?” You clarified. He hadn’t written anything in the application in the occupation section, you had noticed earlier.

“Why, fight, of course,” he said, with another mischievous grin. 

You’d worked with people who were boxers or other types of athletes before, but for some reason, you had the impression that what he was referring to was different. The most important question to ask in his case was what he would do when he was no longer able to fight. That was the issue that plagued a lot of these types of clients.

When you asked him this very question, he laughed as if it were the most ridiculous thing to ask in the world. You might as well have told him to prepare for when he grew a third eyeball in the middle of his head. But then he added, “You do raise a good point, which is the very reason why I’m here today, on a friend’s recommendation.”

You gave him an odd look again, and turned back to your computer, still confused at his amusement from earlier. Then you took a quick look at his stated monetary assets and paled.

200 million Jenny a year? And no investments? This man was a financial disaster. 

“Would it be alright if I make a suggestion?” You started, whipping around in your chair to face him, only to find that he had moved almost imperceptibly to look over your shoulder at the computer.

You almost jumped, your heart beating out of your chest.  

“... Mr. Morow?” You started, looking up at him from where you were seated.

“Oh, am I too close?” He said, now with a low, sultry voice as he rested his hand on the back of your chair. 

Yes, he’s too fucking close, what the hell does he mean, ‘am I too close?’, you thought, both angry and flustered, but then he suddenly took a seat on the desk before you, hugging one knee.

“I can sense exactly how you feel about me, and I find you quite delicious myself.”

And now your heart was beating in an actual frenzy. Your mouth opened and closed, stunned. Was this really happening? At work? You glanced at the door, now concerned that at any moment, someone would walk in and find you getting a little too comfortable with your client. He saw your eyes travel frantically, and in an excessive show of confidence walked over to the door and promptly locked it.

Then he pulled off his suit jacket and tossed it aside, shaking out his well-built arms now that they were free from the restrictive fabric.

“If you aren’t too loud, no one will know.”

That was enough to convince you. 

He was before you quickly and hoisted you up onto the desk before kissing you on the neck, then lips, then in a trail down your chest between your breasts once you had unfastened the buttons of your blouse as fast as you possibly could. He unhooked the clasps of your bra, which somehow conveniently were at the front instead of the back, and palmed a breast, then both as he laid you onto your back, kissing hungrily all the while. Your legs hanging off the edge of the desk, he pulled down your already soaked panties, and tested the wetness of your heat with two fingers.

Sufficiently satisfied with your arousal, he flipped you over on your back so that you were bent over the desk. 

“Why aren’t you a dirty, dirty woman?” He whispered, pulling onto your hair just so, enough that your back arched. “This is just so incredibly unprofessional.”

Too embarrassed to speak and too worried to be heard outside, you stayed silent as he grabbed a handful of your ass. You decided to focus instead on the flood of sensation washing over you - the heat rising in the pit of your belly, the searing pain of his rough grip on your skin, and the clang of his belt unbuckling as he undid his pants. 

And in just mere moments, he was entering you, and you bit your lip hard enough you were sure you tasted blood to prevent yourself from crying out at the painful but delightful plunge of his hard cock into you. He continued to rut inside you, his hands in your hair, then around your throat and then gripping your hips as he moved faster and faster inside you, challenging your ability to stay stoic with a firm slap of your ass every so often. 

You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan several thrusts in, and he leaned over, whispering into your ear to tease you.

“It looks like you’re not too worried about losing your job.”

And to that your fire only increased, your walls tightening around him, and your eyes now stinging from the overwhelming pleasure you felt. 

And then he finally became more and more erratic, holding pressure on your bruising hips as he finally came, timed just mere seconds after you had tipped over into a shaking extremis and collapsed, sprawling over the desk.  

Dislodging from you, he quickly redressed, you still shaking and panting from pleasure, and sat back down in front of you, legs crossed and smiling as you struggled to reorganize yourself, a quivering mess.

“So about my assets, you were saying?” He said, at normal volume now, a sparkle in his eye.

#hisoka x reader #hisoka #hisoka morow x reader #thanks for the ask! #work shenanigans

[spadejin]

Let Me Care For You || Shouto Todoroki x Reader (*TW*)

Warnings: Self Harm, Bullying, implied thoughts of suicide, implied depression.

Summary: Shouto Todoroki finds out that his girlfriend has been self-harming in secret after she’s been bullied for a while. After confronting her in the confines of her dorm, he encourages her to let him take her to the hospital, and that he’ll be there with her every step of the way.

A/N: Reader has brown hair and sea green eyes as per the request, I hope you enjoy <3.

Requested By: @cosplaynewbieyuki​

Word Count: 2.3k

Shouto always considered himself observant of everything, there wasn’t really much that could go past him unnoticed… that’s what he always thought, anyways.

You’d usually make it to the cafeteria before him, so when his eyes gazed upon the empty table that you both usually sit at, he tilted his head in a confused manner. With his food in hand, he maneuvered his way through the aisles to sit in his usual spot. He figured you just stopped to use the bathroom, so for now, he would keep the table occupied. As time went by, he took small bites out of his food, waiting for your appearance, soon realizing halfway through lunch, you probably weren’t going to show.

‘That’s strange,’ Shouto thought to himself. He shuffled a bit, sliding his hand into his pocket before pulling out his phone to check if you left a message for him. You didn’t.

What was keeping you so long?

He quickly input the password to his phone, shooting you a quick, short text. “Is everything alright? You aren’t at lunch yet, and fifteen minutes have passed. Are you feeling unwell?” He typed. Shouto noticed that his message was read almost immediately after he sent it to you.

“Everything is fine, I wanted a change of scenery, so I went up to the roof to eat today. You’re welcome to join! Sorry I didn’t tell you before, I was lost in my thoughts before your message.” Reading your response, Shouto smiled fondly to himself, relieved to know that you just had your head in the clouds. He stands up, taking his food with him, and excused himself out of the cafeteria, trudging up the stairs to the roof to eat. The door swings open, and he’s met with your figure sitting right where you said you’d be. He made his way over to you, sitting down next to you silently.

“Hi,” Shouto said quietly as he slid his arm around your waist. He wasn’t normally one for PDA, but in private times like this, he was willing to extend an effort. You looked over at him, giving him a small smile in return while he squeezed you tighter against him. “So, a change in scenery, hm?” He questions.

“I get tired of being in the cafeteria around people sometimes. It’s quiet up here, and hardly anyone comes out here to mess with me.”

“Mess with you?” Shouto repeats, quirking his eyebrow up. “Well… I shouldn’t say it like that, but it’s nice to get some time to myself,” you rephrase. Of course over text, he probably would’ve had more confidence in your correction, but your words just didn’t sit right with him. “If there’s someone bothering you, (Y/N), you can tell me,” he begins. You quickly shake your head, “Of course not! That didn’t come out the way I intended it to.”

Shouto stares at you a moment more, obviously not buying your refute, but he wasn’t one to force you to talk if you didn’t want to. With a small sigh, he turned his head forward, his fingers tapping against his food container. Usually, you would bring up something to talk to him about. The silence between you two was not a comfortable one after your strained attempt at “explaining” yourself, which only added to Shouto’s apprehensiveness.

Lunch ended the same way it started; quiet. After you both pick up your belongings so as to not leave the roof a mess, Shouto glances at you, opening his mouth to speak. “We should head back to class now.” Chewing on your bottom lip, you manage to say, “I have to use the restroom, go on ahead without me, I’ll see you later.”

Shouto adjusts his clothes slightly, and he nods skeptically at you. He moved closer to you, and he took your chin with his finger, lifting it up and planting a small kiss on your lips, but he couldn’t help but to notice the lack of reaction from you.

The rest of the school day passed by, and you couldn’t help but to notice Shouto sneaking glances at you every so often during class. ‘He knows something is wrong,’ you thought to yourself, mentally berating yourself for being so awkward during lunch. Everyone was packing up their things to go back to the dorms after a long day of learning, and you weren’t far behind them. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Shouto making his way back to you, before stopping in front of your desk with his bag around his shoulders.

“Do you want to walk back to the dorms together today?” He asks.

You shook your head, sliding your bag around your shoulders, “I would love to, but I have some studying to catch up on in the library.” Shouto nods in response. “Would you like me to walk you there?”

You shake your head again, a small smile on your face. “I can manage by myself, Shouto, but thank you for offering. I’ll see you back at the dorms.” Shouto nods again, a slight shade a pink rising to his cheeks as you place a gentle kiss against his lips, and you wave him goodbye as he makes way to leave the classroom. A smile makes its way onto your face, and you exited the classroom shortly after, making your way to the library to study, just as you said you would.

The sun was setting when you finally arrived back at the dorms, taking your shoes off when you entered. You were mentally exhausted. Being picked on before school, during school, and after school was starting to take a toll on you. You weren’t lying when you said that you went to the library to study, but only because you didn’t want to run into the very people that made your school life harder than it needed to be. You quickly made a beeline upstairs to get to your room, needing some time to yourself to gather your composure. Managing to slip into the comforts of your own dorm safely, you sighed in relief. No unnecessary conversations, contact, or stares due to your odd behavior.

Or so you thought.

As you hurried down the hall and into your dorm, you didn’t notice Shouto walking down it, catching a glimpse of you locking yourself in your room. Seeing you in such a frenzy to get back to your room only confirmed his suspicions. He approached your door, knocking his knuckles against it gently. “(Y/N)? Can I talk to you about something?”

“Yeah! Give me a moment.” He heard you say from the other side, accompanied with a bit of rustling from the inside. Shouto stepped away from the door, and a few moments later, the door swings open, revealing you after changing out of your school uniform. You smile gently, motioning for him to come in, and he follows your gesture, stepping into your room as you close the door behind him.

“So, what is it that you want to talk about?” You asked.

Shouto turns around, his gaze fixed upon your face. “You.” He simply replies. Your eyebrows knit together in false confusion, “I’m not quite sure I follow?” Shouto heaves a heavy sigh. “You haven’t been acting yourself lately. You did imply that you were fine before, but your actions have made your statement less believable. Have I done something to upset you?”

You wanted to scream. Of course Shouto wasn’t the cause of your behavior! If anything, he was one of the only things keeping you together. You swallowed thickly, shaking your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Shouto, why do you think that?”

He peers into your eyes, and you both stare at each other for a while. “You’ve been acting strange lately. Today has only raised my suspicions. Initially, there were just little things and I thought you were having a bad day, but as the week progressed, I’ve started to notice a shift in your behavior.” You began to chew on your bottom lip nervously, “I’ve just been a bit tired and stressed out lately. It’s nothing to worry about, really.” You tried your best to deflect his questions, but Shouto was far too observant to just play your behavior off as just being tired.

You saw this, and you shifted your weight to your other foot, resting your gaze to the floor. There was no getting out of this, now. “You don’t have to hide from me, (Y/N). You can tell me,” he murmurs. Moving closer to you, he slowly reaches out, taking your hand in his and interlacing your fingers. He didn’t miss how lately every time he moved towards your arm, you’d tense up or move away, and this time wasn’t any different.

Out of instinct, his bicolored eyes trailed down your arm, seeing marks that he never noticed before. Some seemed to be quite old, but most appeared to be fresh. The gears in Shouto’s mind began to turn slowly as he moved his hand up, gently running his thumb against the raised skin of your wrist. He felt you stiffen against his hold, and for a split second, Shouto thought you were going to move away.

Much to his surprise, you stayed right where you were, your arm gradually relaxing into his hold, but you refused to make eye contact with him. ‘It’s progress,’ Shouto thought to himself. His thoughts were mushed back into alarm and confusion when he heard a quiet sniffle come from your figure.

“(Y/N)…” He cooed softly, “… tell me what’s wrong.”

The hand that was resting on your side moved up, and you wiped the tears that were only beginning to form. “I haven’t been feeling good lately, Shouto… It’s not you, its other people.” You took a deep breath, “I can’t do this anymore. Listening to negative comments about myself from other people when I’m trying my hardest to be strong only breaks me down more. Sometimes it gets to be too much. Their words get to me. Sometimes… sometimes they get physical. This isn’t a new occurrence, but… I… didn’t want anyone to worry, but it looks like I’ve already worried you to death.”

As you spoke, Shouto listened to you intently. It hurt to see you in such an emotional state. You were always so bright and supportive to him when he was at his lowest. He was no stranger to being the subject of harsh words, comments, and opinions, so he had no problems seeing where you were coming from.

He closed his eyes, slowly wrapping his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him. His fingers threaded through your head smoothly, your brown locks slipping between his fingers effortlessly as he tried to provide you with a sense of comfort.

Your face was buried in Shouto’s chest, and his comfort only made you more vulnerable. The tears were falling freely, now. “I want them to stop. I know I’m not the strongest, fastest, or smartest at U.A., but I bust my ass all the time trying to improve myself. No one cares to see the amount of progress I’ve made since the beginning. I don’t want to feel inferior to anyone, I want to feel as if I could actually stand on my own two feet. I want people to see that I’m not… useless!”

Your words caused Shouto’s grip to tighten around you.

He pulled away, and he stares down at you, his eyes staring into your own. “You’re not useless or inferior. Everyone goes at their own pace and you shouldn’t compare yourself to other people. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses, and there will always be people willing to exploit these things to make people feel just like you’re feeling.”

“You’re not alone in this, (Y/N), you can talk to me about anything. You don’t have to hide anything from me. And this,” He gently raises your wrist, kissing over your scars with the faintest brush of his lips, “This isn’t the way to go about coping. Inflicting pain onto yourself because of other’s opinions isn’t healthy. You’re strong, but you can’t do everything alone. I want to support you, and I’m here whenever you need to talk, or whenever you need help, just don’t resort to this.”

You avoid eye contact with Shouto, but that doesn’t stop his persistence. “I want you to go to the hospital.”

Your eyes widen, “What?”

“I just want to make sure you’re alright, and that your cuts are properly treated. I am aware that some of them may be old scars but... not all of them are.” You quickly shake your head, deeming it not that serious. You don’t want to be judged by strangers for what you did to yourself, but Shouto presses further. “If you don’t want to go to the hospital, please, at least see Recovery Girl.”

“No one’s going to judge you for what you’re going through, and I’ll be there with you every step of the way.”

Shouto presses his forehead against yours gently, taking your hands in his and he rubs the back of your knuckles with his thumbs gently.

“So please, let me care for you.”

#shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto #Todoroki x Reader #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha oneshots #bnha x reader #todoroki #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #bnha fanfiction #bnha drabbles #mha #bnha #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #midoriya x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader

[ye4gerz]

reflections; baekhyun

you knew better than to give permission to a demon.

++ genre: supernatural au! angst; smut[teasing, fingering, oral, degradation, choking and bondage.]

++ word count: 5k

++ pairs: demon!baekhyun x fem reader [mentions of jongdae & sehun.]

++ song: jekyll – exo

++ warnings: mentions of ghosts, demons, possession, ouija boards.

You were freezing. The tips of your fingers were almost numb, nearly shaking in fear. You couldn’t figure out exactly why you were scared, but you knew you were somewhere bad. It was pitch black and not a person in sight. You can hear your own breath, footsteps and gulps.

“Where am I? How did I get here?” You asked yourself, trying to look for any source of light.

Before you knew it, your body was trembling. The freezing cold was no longer and instead the burning sensation of heat became apparent. Within a second, you felt your body go into flames; only there weren’t any. Burns so bad, so hot, you couldn’t control yourself from the bloody screams exiting your mouth.

“Somebody! Please help me! Please!” You yell out for help, only to get your echo in response.

You fall to your knees, hugging your burning body. Tears streaming down your face. How did you manage to get here? Was this possibly a nightmare? Sleep paralysis? Anything but reality.

“Give me permission,” you heard a faint whisper.

It was an unfamiliar voice. A voice that left your mind in a frenzy. It was smooth, practically mesmerizing. It was angelic.

“W-What?” You thought to yourself, only screams still leaving your body, in utter agony.

“If you want it to stop, give me permission. Give me your permission. I can stop it,” the whisper spoke, but very slowly. “Would you like me to stop it? Only I can save you. I want to help you,” it continued.

“YES!” You managed to scream.

You want it to stop. You want to wake up. You want to be able to feel your body again. This couldn’t be real, it was too much of a fantasy. It was almost out of a really bad horror movie. If this was a dream, it was possibly the worst dream you have ever had.

“Your wish is my command, princess,” it speaks, much more confident than before. You can almost hear the smirk behind it.

Then you woke up.

Nearly bolting out of your bed, you rapidly bring your hands up to your face. You were alive, you were finally okay. Your chest was uncontrollably rising from the fear you just experienced.

After taking a few minutes to catch your breath, you turn your head to your clock.

“Shit, I’m late!” You hop out your bed, getting ready for work, your nightmare suddenly slipping out of your memory.

Being at work was a drag. It wasn’t the best job, but it paid the bills. An office job is what it was, a very long and boring office job. A mutual friend of yours offered you the secretary position, knowing you were in need of something.

“Wow, someone looks dead,” Jongdae hovers over your desk, handing over your daily coffee. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asked, pushing up his glasses.

“Barely. I keep having weird dreams. I think I’m stressing myself out too much,” you sigh, taking a sip of your coffee.

“No way, it’s because of your haunted apartment. Seriously it’s been four months since you’ve moved in and nothing but weird things have been happening to you,” he turns around, grabbing a nearby chair and sitting right next to you.

“Goodness Dae, when are you going to give it up with the whole ghost thing? They aren’t even real,” you roll your eyes.

“Ever since you settled in, weird stuff has been happening to you. How can you explain all of your random bruises? The headaches? The fact you’re always dizzy now. You lost all energy within the same four months,” he continues.

“I’m no doctor, but I’m sure anyone can tell you that’s called iron deficiency, my friend,” you sarcastically say. “Not to mention I’ve been working more hours and still trying to adjust from the move.”

“It’s sketchy is what it is,” he raises his brow.

“Whatever, I’m tired of this conversation. I have calls to make, so if you could excuse me before we both get in trouble, thank youuu,” you say, pushing his chair as he rolls away to the following desk.

Haunted, pft, you laugh at the mere thought. Ghosts and ghouls just aren’t a thing, pure fiction is what it was in your mind. Besides, no records show of anyone ever dying in your apartment. There’s no evidence at all.

So why has it been eating you up all day.

Lunch came around and you couldn’t help but head over to Jongdae’s cubicle. This time accompanied him was your coworker, Sehun.

“Hey guys,” you side smile, giving them a little wave.

“Hey, I was just telling Sehun about your nightmares and guess what?!” He jumps in excitement.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, “what?”

“Ghosts,” Sehun snaps his fingers at you.

“Even he agrees!” Jongdae exclaims, relieved someone finally sees eye to eye with him.

“Okay okay, so what if it is a ghost? How the hell do I get rid of it?” You fold your arms.

The men look at each other, clueless. They probably didn’t think they would get this far in convincing you of the paranormal, but Sehun knew what to say, as so he thought.

“Talk to it, tell it to leave you alone,” he says.

“Are you crazy?! You want me to talk to a possible angry spirit and tell it to leave me alone? Yeah, no, I’m not ready to get dragged by my feet tonight,” you scoff.

He rolls his eyes, “well do you have any better ideas?”

“I’ve got one,” Jongdae chimes in. “There’s this game that people use to talk to spirits. Some type of board game, uh, ouija board, I believe. You see, you talk to the spirit and it spells out words on the board, but there’s rules to it. You need to follow by the rules accordingly or else bad things can happen, very bad things.”

“And you want me to go buy this scary board?” Raising your brows, eyeing him as if he’s the craziest man on earth.

“You can borrow mine. My cousins and I used it once as a party gag and nothing bad happened to us. It’s still in my car, I can go get it and leave it on your desk before you clock out. Like I said, if you follow the rules, you’ll be completely safe, I swear,” Your friend promises.

“You sure about this one? My idea seemed a lot less intense than that, geez,” Sehun gives a concerned look at Jongdae.

“Well, what else do you wanna do? We aren’t professionals at this,” Jongdae sighs, helpless.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” you say.

Their heads turn at you, gawking at your answer. You? Of all people? They couldn’t believe you were completely giving into their ideas, especially Jongdae.

Jongdae has been your best friend since your freshman year in college. You guys knew everything about each other and have irreplaceable memories. He knew your weaknesses, what made you tick and your turn offs. It’s a given, you’re a stubborn person. He always knew you as one. Never in his life would he expect you to agree to something so fast.

“You said as long as I follow the instructions I’ll be safe, correct? Unlike you fools, I follow by the book. If nothing happens then I was right and there’s no such thing as ghosts,” you comply.

“And if we’re right? If you do talk to this ghost?” Sehun twists the cap of his pen out of nervousness, leaning against your friends cubicle.

“Then I’ll kindly ask it to leave and let you guys know you were right. Fair enough?” Without letting them continue a word, you nod and turn your back, ready to walk away.

“Remember to have it by my desk before we leave,” is the last thing you say to them before you exit the floor.

Night comes and you’re all alone. You had finally left work and as promised, it was there. You were having second thoughts, as you looked up more about the board. Jongdae said it was harmless if you were responsible yet your research says else wise. It’s bad enough the car ride back home was eerie. It was hard trying to get rid of the knot in your stomach while the board sat right next to you, mocking you.

You’re desperate. You had enough of these occurrences. You had enough of the screams, the fear… the torture. Although you didn’t want to admit it, deep down you wanted to hear the voice you once heard.

It was so intoxicating, all day you tried your best to remember it. Playing it’s words over and over again in your head. You were certainly drawn to it and itched a thought about his intentions. Surely with a voice as sweet as his you would be safe, right?

“Just one night with him,” you told yourself.

One night to figure out what was going on in this apartment. One night to meet him, talk to him. What were these feelings? Your sudden need to be near him? You missed him more than ever. It’s as if he left a curse on you. If he had marked his spot on you.

Your fear grew into excitement, realizing it was just after midnight. You got comfortable in your place, setting up the candles and board in your room. You begged with each second that he would appear tonight. You want to see him. You want to touch him and confirm if he’s real.

The closer it gets to three am, the more you ache for him. Tingles on the tips of your fingers, they remind you of the burning sensation, only pleasurable.

When you were finally ready, you settle down the planchette, picking up the instructions.

RULE ONE: Do Not Play Alone.

Well great, here you are already breaking the first rule.

RULE TWO: Do Not Play During Devils Hour (Three AM).

Check. It was only a few minutes after midnight.

RULE THREE: Do Not Take Your Hands Off The Planchette Without Saying Goodbye First.

RULE FOUR: Be respectful

After going through more rules, you were a bit annoyed over how much time it took. You knew there were a few rules, but not this many. You predicted most of them, but the warning left you uneasy.

WARNING: Do NOT Accept A Demons Invitation. This Can Easily Cause A Possession. Demons Will Try To Convince You To Give Up Your Soul. If Met With A Demon, End The Game Immediately And Call Your Local Church.

Your throat suddenly went dry. Demonic possessions? That’s a thing?! You presumed those were only in the movies and books. The knot in your stomach makes a reappearance, causing your mind to fog up.

You don’t have a demon in your apartment. It’s just a silly ghost who’s trapped and somehow attached to you. It’s a friendly spirit who’s still mourning over their death. You kept telling yourself these things until the knot subsided. You knew you needed to get this over and done with.

Taking a deep breath you put your fingers on the planchette. You eyed the board closely, making sure nothing could interfere in the way.

“I invite the spirit who haunts me to communicate,” you start speaking out loud.

“You’ve been haunting me for quite some time now. I welcome you to come talk to me, are you here right now?” You ask, a shaky breath escaping your lips.

Everything was silent. Nothing was moving. No one was in sight.

Being frustrated you cleared your throat and asked again, “I said, are you here with me? Are you listening?”

Before a blink of an eye your fingers move the planchette to yes.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Could it have been nerves? There must be a scientific explanation to this. Your body must be nervous. You’re only trying to feed yourself the answers you want.

Moving your hands back to the center of the board, you clear your throat. “Thank you for responding to me. I’m sure you know my name by now, could you spell out your name for me?” you ask.

It took a while but a few seconds later your hands were moving up to ‘yes’. This time the movements were slower, it was losing energy. It came back down to the middle and started slowly but surely spelling out its name.

You read along with it, “B-A-E-K…”

“Baek..?” you whisper to yourself.

“H-Y-U-N,” it spells.

“Baekhyun. Your name is Baekhyun? That’s a nice name for a spirit,” you anxiously chuckle, trying your best not to upset the paranormal force in your home.

“Why are you haunting me, Baekhyun? Did I upset you when I moved in?” You question.

This time it moves to no. You raise a brow in confusion but it continues to spell out a word. A word you were not expecting.

Lonely.

“You’re a lonely ghost? Oh, so my company brings you comfort,” you nod along to yourself, trying to make of the current situation.

“You see, Baekhyun, I don’t know if it’s because you’re sad or perhaps upset, but you’ve been causing me these nightmares. I’ve woken up with bruises and have seen visions so graphic, were these all you?” you bravely ask.

This time you didn’t get an answer. You waited a while and even asked again, but nothing. You decide to skip the question and continue with a different one.

“Baekhyun, how old are you?” you managed to choke out in fear.

As said in the rules, never ask a spirit for its age. It was another rule you decided to break. You wanted to break the tension and had forgotten what was forbidden versus what wasn’t.

You hoped for anything, a young man, even an old man. Anything but zero, for zero indicates a demon.

RULE SEVEN: Do Not Ask For The Spirits Age. If Said Spirit Gives You Information Of Their Age, Beware. If A Spirit Says They Are Zero Years Old, End The Game Immediately. Demons Are Unborn Creatures, Never Made With A Human Body, Therefore They Are Zero.

Frustrated you repeat yourself, “I’ll ask again, how old are you, Baekhyun?”

Suddenly your planchette landed where you prayed it wouldn’t.

Zero.

You gasped, accidentally pushing away the board and everything along with it.

“No! No!” You gather everything, frantically placing the planchette back on the board.

Tears were trickling down your face as you repeated and screamed, “Goodbye! Goodbye! Thank you and goodb–”

All your candles go out. Yelling in fear you make your way to your lamp, being able to give you the light you need.

You closed the portal, why is this happening?

“I said goodbye!” you yell, looking around, making sure you were safe.

“I thought you missed me?” The voice announces, finally making itself present again.

“I’m here to protect you. If you let me, I can guard you,” it says.

“Someone.. Please help me…” You weep.

The lightbulb in your room bursts, the darkness clouding your vision. You felt like you were in your nightmare all over again and you couldn’t take it.

“Just say the word and I’ll be there to protect you. Give me access, princess.”

“YES! YES! YES!” You screamed, hands covering your ears and your eyes shut tight from anything that could possibly be around you.

Within less than a second, your light goes back on. It flickers as if it never popped. Your home is silent, and the candles seem to be lit again, as if nothing ever happened.

You step back from the board, not wanting to touch it. You continued backwards, as far as you can, until you bumped into something– someone.

Turning around, you face a man who had suddenly appeared. You wanted to scream, you really did. You wanted to cry for help and run out your apartment without a doubt. However, looking at this man, embracing all his beauties, made you want to stay.

He was tall and slightly built. His hair was white and his skin was pale. His eyes were a warm shade of brown and his lips were plumped and pink. His cheeks were slightly flushed and he was dressed in a white button up, tucked into some black pants. His dress shoes completed the look, giving him an extra bit of height.

He was perfect.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long…” The man who belongs to the beautiful face, speaks. “For years I have guarded over you. For years I’ve watched you grow and become stronger. Your soul, it’s so pure, so beautiful. It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” his plushed lips pout.

“W-What are you? What do you want?” you ask under your breath, not even sure if he could hear you.

“I’m your angel. You’ve been hurt by a demon, haven’t you, beautiful? I’m Baekhyun, a guardian angel,” he smiles at you, his eyes sparkling.

Confused, you shake your head, “No, you told me you were a demon.”

“They’re trying to confuse you. Demons are known to lie as much as they can to try to take a humans soul. They knew I was looking after you and tried to use my name to manipulate you. It’s okay now, they shouldn’t be back anytime soon, I’ve got you,” he reassures.

He was charming yet sort of nerdy, innocent almost. He made you feel safe. You can't bring yourself to fully trust him though, but you knew you were falling for his mask.

“Why should I trust you? How do I know you aren’t lying to me?” You question the man in front of you.

“If an angel lies, they turn to dust. It is taught in heaven, if an angel goes against their word of god, they perish,” he licks his lips, bringing himself closer to you.

His mouth was slowly approaching your ear, You could feel his breath tickling your neck sending goosebumps all over your body. He was daringly close to you.

“And I’m still here, baby. Waiting for you… Wanting you…” he whispers, leaving you slightly gasping.

“Why me?” you mumble.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Watching you for so long, I fell in love with you. You’re everything I’ve ever needed…” his mouth got closer and slowly aimed for your neck.

Softly, he kissed your neck. Placing sweet little kisses on all your weak spots. Something in you didn’t want to move. Something in you liked it, you wanted more.

His tongue lapped over your sensitive spot, a soft moan escaping your mouth.

“You sound so beautiful. I can’t believe you can finally see me. I just want to make you feel good,” he removes his lips from your neck and looks into your eyes.

His eyes twinkle. They’re soft and warm. The most calming shade of brown. He looks at you with passion, care and love.

“May I? May I have the honors and make you feel good tonight?” He asks, this time almost anxiously.

It could’ve been his eyes, it could’ve been his beauty, it could’ve been his pure talent at kissing, but you without a doubt caved in and agreed.

“Yes, please,” you beg.

He smiles, holding you closer to him. Your chests were pressed up against each other as he leaned down slowly, his lips meeting with yours.

You froze, still adjusting to the situation. Your tension starting to fade as his hands roamed your body. Your lips were moving perfectly together. His lips were soft and he tasted sweet like candy. His tongue slightly pokes at yours, wanting for more. You were stubborn, as always, but eventually gave in and gave him access.

He was such a great kisser.

He knew what he was doing and the effect it had on you. He continued until he needed more, bringing his knee in between your legs, earning a moan from you. The friction felt so euphoric.

Here you are, in the middle of your room, about to have sex with an angel. It was impossible to process, especially with how well he was making you feel. A wet patch forming at the center of your underwear.

“Baekhyun…” you moan, wishing for more.

“Is this what you want? You want me, don’t you?” He snickers.

“Y-Yes,” You lean your head back as he starts marking your neck again.

“Say it,” he demands.

It was quiet. Too shy and too occupied in the pleasure, you completely tune him out.

He moves his knee away, leaving you begging.

“I want you to say it,” he repeats.

“I want you, Baekhyun. Please, I want you to fuck me. I want you right now,” you plea.

His fingers trailing up against your thighs, teasing slowly. His slender fingers nearly poking the center of your pajama shorts.

“Where do you want me, baby? Be more detailed for me, will you love?” He focuses his eyes on yours, enjoying the view of you completely helpless.

“Baekhyun… Please.. I need you, I need you inside me now or else I’ll go crazy. Can you please just–” he interrupts you.

He makes out with you again, this time rough. He picks you up and throws you on the bed. He unbuttons his top, chuckling to himself. He had you right where he wanted you.

You were in the middle of taking off your shirt when he completely undressed his top half. Your eyes ate up every single detail of him. His body was beautiful, not a mark in sight. He was toned, strong and perfect. He really is a gift from god, practically a sculpture.

“Like what you see, huh?” He smirks, helping undress the rest of you.

“You’re perfect,” you say, staring at him in awe.

“You’re even more perfect,” he responds, leaving kisses from your legs, working his way up in between your thighs.

“So fucking good,” he mumbles, his breath hitting against your weak spot, sending chills down your spine.

He felt your legs press against his head, you were needy for more. You wanted him more than anything else. For so long you felt you were missing something in your life. You questioned for so long why these things were happening, but now grateful for your savior. Whenever you needed him, he was there. Now this was his turn to erase all those scars from your memories. He wanted to heal you and appreciate your body.

When his tongue lightly licked your wetness you couldn’t help but hiss. Your hands tangled in his perfect silky hair as a reflex.

His tongue continues, this time adding pressure to your sensitive bud. He made sure to keep his eyes on you while his tongue fucked you, he never wanted to forget the look on your face as he ate you out. He was aware of his power, and he tried his best to keep his eyes pure.

“Baekhyun!” You screamed, grinding yourself against his mouth.

His lips were completely soaked of your essence and it turned you on even more. His tongue was entering your body in ways no other person has done. It definitely couldn’t compare, especially once he brought his two slender fingers back up, pushing them inside you, as his mouth was still at it.

Your other hand was clawing at the bedsheets. His movements were faster, harder. He groaned against you, needing you more than anything else. He can tell you were close from how messy your panting was getting, jumbling up all your words.

“So needy for me, you love having my fingers inside you, fucking you, huh baby?” He edges you almost in full bliss.

“Fuck yes, you feel so good, Baek,” You scream, almost reaching your high, until he completely stopped.

You look up at him; you were a mess. Your eyes gaze with confusion and want. His smirk never leaves, only his hands traveling down to his pants and removing the rest of his clothes.

“You want me? Well you’re gonna get me,” Baekhyun grabs his hardened length, entering you without a warning.

You arch your back in response, curses escaping under your breath. He laughed while he watched you struggle to adjust to his size, it turned him on even more. His pace was slow, allowing you to get used to the friction.

“You’re so tight me for me baby, just how I like them,” He grunts, picking up speed as he fucks you deep into your bed.

You were too focused on the pleasure to even choke out a response. He was hitting all your sensitive spots and areas you haven’t explored yet. For a moment his hands stopped holding you down, quickly reaching over for his tossed shirt, and tying up your hands to your headboard.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

“Fucking amazing,” you grind against his dick, receiving a moan out of him.

You were restricted, wanting to touch him and feel every part of him. Not wanting to admit it, the new position felt amazing. It made you crave him more, wanting him to meet your highs together. Your hips snapped up and moved along with his thrusts.

“You’re all mine, I’m gonna use you so well,” he says, hands reaching to your neck, choking you at a reasonable point. It wasn’t too hard nor too soft, still managing to breathe, but boy, did it feel good.

Unable to speak, whines left your parted lips as you were near reaching your limit. He knew you were close as he felt you tightening up against his dick, causing him to almost reach his high as well.

“I know you want to cum,” Baekhyun pants, grinning while his length continues to pound in you. “Do it, cum all over my dick, baby. Show me how good I fuck a weak little human like you,” he grits through his teeth.

With those words and a couple of more thrusts, he leaves you in a state of euphoria. You chant his name as loud as possible, the heels of your feet digging deep into his lower back, bringing him closer inside of you. Struggling with your hands tied up, your back arches one last time and he uses this opportunity to reach his release, spewing his remains inside of you.

“Fuck!” He curses under his breath, positive his hold on your waist will leave bruises later.

The two of you lay there, catching your breath and enjoying each other's embrace. He remains inside of your wetness, trying to keep his mess deep in you.

Reaching up to meet eye to eye, he smiles, “you’re wonderful.”

A sincere smile appears on your exhausted face, “you made me feel wonderful.”

An innocent giggle left his mouth, “is it okay if we stay like this for the night? I promise to clean you up and attend to your wrists in this morning. I just really like being this close to you, I’ve never been this close to a human before.”

Your eyes widen in shock; was this the first time he had done this? Clearly he would’ve disappeared if he was lying. Would he get in trouble in heaven? Would you get in trouble? Is this considered a threat to the demons now that Baekhyun is with you?

“Will everything be okay though? Won’t you get in trouble for this?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “even if it means having to spend the rest of my being in hell, I’ll do anything to be one with you.”

A sadden smile comes across your face. Who knew a lonely game with an ouija board would end up in angel sex? You certainly weren’t ever a believer, but this changed so much for you. This was the feeling you’ve been yearning for.

Suddenly you let out a yawn, and your eyes become heavy. You could barely keep your eyes open, closing them slightly and humming and when you felt Baekhyun kissing your cheek. His mouth near your ears once again, he chuckles, only this time it wasn’t innocently.

“Rest your eyes, you’ve had a very long day,” his chuckles turn into evil laughs; “you honestly should’ve known better than to give yourself to a lying no good demon like me, princess.”

Everything started to hit you. The smirks, chuckles and pet names. It was all a lie. It was him. It was the same creature who’s been taunting you, making your life a living hell. The same creature who scared you, leaving you marked up on multiple occasions. The same creature who got his way into your mind and controlled everything.

Your body went into complete shock, trying with all your might to open your eyes, but they’re practically glued shut. Your arms were still restricted and no matter how much you moved, they wouldn’t let go. You tried kicking the demonic creature hovering over you, only to realize he was no longer there. He was gone.

Where the hell could he have possibly went?

“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!” You cry out, hoping someone would hear and come to your rescue.

“It’s too late,” he whispers, “you’re all mine.”

With that, your body came to a full stop. You were one hundred percent frozen. Your entire body started growing in pain. Your mind was going frantic. You tried to scream some more, but was unable to.

He was taking over your body as his own.

The burning sensation became present, tears sliding down your cheek, still unable to move any part of you. It was pitch black once again and you were utterly hopeless. You managed to let this happen, you fell for his tricks. You fell for him, so you gave up and let him.

The pain all came to a stop, your mind entirely blank. You can talk again, you can finally pull yourself out of your restraint. A smirk grows on your face, however you don’t want to smirk. You have no control over your expressions. You wanna scream, frown, jump up and get some help.

You sit up straight, all knowledge of your identity completely vanished. You are no longer apparent as your new soul sits up and opens its new black eyes.

Baekhyun’s new eyes.

#help i cant believe i wrote this #sorry if there's any errors ive been writing this for so long #baek hard hours #baekhyun #byun baekhyun #byun baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun smut #baekhyun angst #baekhyun drabble #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun au #demon baekhyun #demon baekhyun au #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun x reader #exo #exo baekhyun #superm #superm baekhyun #exo smut #superm smut #kpop #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop au #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun x you #jongdae

[nyc-uws]

The Story Behind the Famous Kiss 

The two participants in the world’s most famous kiss didn’t even know each other, nor was their photograph staged. A new book, The Kissing Sailor, tells how it came about and was captured for posterity. The following condensed version weaves together key sections of chapters 9 through 12.                        By Lawrence Verria and Captain George Galdorisi, U.S. Navy (Retired)               July 2012  Naval History Magazine

Tuesday, August 14, 1945, started off for Greta Zimmer in the same manner as did most weekdays during that year. Hurrying to get ready for work, she showered, dressed, and pinned her hair up tightly to keep her long locks from covering her ears and neck. Before leaving her Manhattan apartment she grabbed a quick bite to eat, reached for her multicolored, small purse, and rushed out the door. When running late, Greta walked briskly toward the subway station to catch a train that could get her to work on time.

Her destination was the 33rd and Lexington subway stop, approximately three blocks from Dr. J. L. Berke’s dentist office. Greta had worked as a dental assistant at the Manhattan office for several months. While she hoped to someday design theater sets and pursue other vocations in the arts, work as a dental assistant bought her some independence and took her mind off a prolonged war.

When Greta arrived at the office on the morning of August 14, she changed into her working uniform. If it were not for her place of employment, she could have been easily mistaken for a nurse. Her white dress, white stockings, white shoes, and white cap did not distinguish her from thousands of other caregivers in New York.

While Greta performed her dental assistant duties that Tuesday morning, many patients burst into the office short of breath and beaming. Excitedly, they informed the staff and patients that the war with Japan had ended. Most patients and workers believed them. Greta wasn’t so sure. She wanted to trust their reports, but the war had rained more than a fair share of misery upon Greta. Her defenses remained high. She opted to delay a celebratory mindset that could prove painfully premature.

During the later morning hours, patients continued to enter the dentists’ office with more optimistic news. While Greta tried to ignore the positive developments, the temptation to flow with the prevailing winds challenged her reserve. As the reports became more definitive and promising, Greta found herself listening, contemplating, and growing eager.

When the two dentists returned from their lunches after 1:00 pm, Greta quickly finished the business before her. Soon after, she grabbed her small hand purse with the colorful pattern, took off her white dental assistant cap (as was customary before going out in public), and set out during her lunch break for Times Square. There the Times news zipper utilized lit and moving type to report the latest news. She wanted to know for herself if the claims that had been tossed about over the past several hours were misleading hearsay, or if, on this day, the reports would finally be true.

When Greta arrived at Times Square, a holiday atmosphere was taking hold. While the celebration was subdued compared to what would follow later that day, Greta sensed a vibrant energy in the air. Suited businessmen, well-dressed women, and uniformed soldiers and sailors entered the pandemonium from all directions. Some ran with no determined direction. Others walked with purpose. Some remained stationary, as if waiting for something big to happen. Greta paid no one particular person much attention.

As she proceeded into the square she moved by several recognizable landmarks: the 42nd Street subway stairwell, a replica of the Statue of Liberty, and a large statue of Joe Rosenthal’s famous picture from a few months earlier. After walking a few paces beyond the 25-foot model of the Marines raising the flag at Iwo Jima, Greta spun around and looked in the direction of the Times Building. She focused her sight just above the third-floor windows where the scrolling lighted letters spelled out the latest headlines. Greta read the racing and succinctly worded message quickly. Now she knew the truth.

The Last Day of Leave

On the last day of his leave, Petty Officer First Class George Mendonsa paid no attention to the day’s newspaper headlines and worried little about his Japanese enemy. After almost two years in World War II’s Pacific theater, his mindset was that the war would unfold independent of his blessing or curse. On the morning of August 14, 1945, his thoughts focused primarily on Rita Petry, an attractive Long Island girl he’d met a few weeks earlier in Rhode Island.

George woke up that Tuesday morning alone in a bedroom at the Petry family’s Long Island home. After breakfast with Rita’s family, he leafed through The New York Times looking for show times in New York’s theaters. He and his new girlfriend decided to take in a matinee at Radio City Music Hall. They thought the 1:05 pm showing of A Bell for Adano would give them plenty of time to make it back to Long Island by early evening. George was scheduled to depart for San Francisco that night. In a few days he expected to board The Sullivans and prepare for what he hoped would be the last battles of World War II. He knew an invasion of the Japanese mainland was imminent. While he did not welcome the looming chain of events, he thought finishing off the Japanese in their homeland would be a fitting bookend to a war that had commenced almost four years earlier with the empire’s surprise bombing of Pearl Harbor. But all that was in the future. He still had one day left to enjoy in New York.

Preparing for that day, George wore a formal blue Navy uniform that he’d had tailor-made while on leave in Newport. Rita liked how well fitted the new uniform appeared, but she’d also noticed that “he didn’t look like a usual sailor. He didn’t have those things [rates] on his shoulder.” She’d offered to sew on the chevron, but George had insisted he would take care of the matter with a crossbow hand-stitch he had perfected affixing rates on uniforms on board The Sullivans. He never got around to it, so, in the event the shore patrol inquired as to the whereabouts of his rating badge, George made sure to carry the chevron on his person when he and Rita set out for the city.

When they arrived in Manhattan at approximately noon, the city already buzzed with rumors of Japan’s anticipated surrender. However, neither Rita nor George listened much to people’s conversations. Intent on getting to the theater for the 1:05 movie, they made their way from the subway directly to Radio City Music Hall.

For all their rushing, George and Rita never saw the climax of A Bell for Adano, the movie they had come to see. After a few scenes of the film had played on the large screen, a theater employee interrupted the show by pounding on the entrance door and announcing loudly that World War II had ended. Radio City Music Hall patrons simultaneously leaped to their feet with a thunderous applause. Though President Truman had not yet received Japan’s official surrender, and the White House’s official announcement of Japan’s capitulation was still hours away, few raised the slightest objection to the premature declaration.

Seconds after the theater attendant’s announcement, George, Rita, and most other moviegoers poured out of Radio City Music Hall into a bustling 50th Street and 6th Avenue. As they merged into the frenzied scene, they fed off the contagious excitement that surrounded them. People yelled out news of victory and peace. They smiled and laughed. They jumped up and down with no thought of proper decorum. As if caught in a magnetic field, the historic celebration moved toward Times Square. People from other sections of the city were funneled to the same crossroads where they had gathered for celebrations in the past.

At the corner of 7th Avenue and 49th Street, George and Rita dropped into Childs restaurant for celebratory libations. As in other watering holes in New York, people walked, skipped and ran up to the jam-packed counter to tip a glass or two (or significantly more) to the war that they thought had finally ended. The scene at Childs looked much like that on 7th Avenue. Order and etiquette had been cast away. Rather than placing orders for a specific mug of beer or a favorite glass of wine, patrons forced their way toward the bar and reached out an arm to grab one of the shot glasses of liquor that lined the counter. A generous bartender continuously poured the contents of hard liquor bottles into waiting glasses. George grabbed whatever the server dispensed and did not ask what it was he drank. He knew the desired result would be the same whether the contributor was Jack Daniel’s, Jameson, or Old Grand-Dad. Even Rita gave over to the reckless abandon. After several minutes and the consumption of too many drinks, George and his date made their way out of the packed bar.

Emotions and alcohol-based fuel propelled them out into Times Square where victorious World War II celebrants continued to mass. George thought, My God, Times Square is going wild. And at that point, so was George. He felt uncharacteristically blissful and jubilant. As George moved briskly toward the 42nd Street subway station, the sailor from The Sullivans outpaced his girlfriend. For the moment, no one could corral George. And no one tried—not even Rita. The realization of a triumphant war created more vigor than his large frame could hold. He needed to release the energy. Rita did her best to keep up. At most points she trailed him by only a few feet. Although she enjoyed the folic through Times Square, she wondered if George would ever stop for a breather.

In Search of the Picture

As the spirited celebration of Japan’s surrender grew, reporters from the Associated Press, The New York Times, the New York Daily News, and other well-known publications descended on Times Square to record the spontaneous merriment that was enveloping the world’s most important crossroads. Photographers added more bodies to a burgeoning impromptu gala. One of them represented Life magazine.

On August 14, 1945, the magazine sought pictures that differed from most others printed earlier in the war. On this day, Life wanted its viewers to know what the end of the war felt like. The editors didn’t know with any degree of certainty what incarnation that feeling might take, but they left it to their photographers to show them—just like they had with other events over the publication’s nine-year history. Those unsupervised approaches had rarely led to disappointment in the past, and Life’s editors trusted their photographers to deliver again today.

The magazine’s trust in its photographers was especially complete when Alfred Eisenstaedt was on assignment. He had photographed the people and personalities of World War II, some prior to the declaration of war and others even before Life existed. As a German Jew in the 1930s, he had chronicled the developing storm, including a picture of Benito Mussolini’s first meeting with Adolf Hitler in Venice, on June 13, 1934. In another shoot he’d photographed an Ethiopian soldier’s bare cracked feet on the eve of Fascist Italy’s attack in 1935.

After the outbreak of war between Japan and the United States, Eisenstaedt focused on the American home front. In 1942 he photographed a six-member Missouri draft board classifying a young farmer as 2-C, indicating draft deferment because of his occupation’s importance to the nation. For another series in 1945, he visited Washington and photographed freshman senators performing comical monologues and musical numbers to entertain Capitol reporters. During World War II, Eisenstaedt showed the world what war looked like on the U.S. mainland.

On the day World War II ended, Eisenstaedt entered Times Square dressed in a tan suit, a white shirt with a lined tie, tan saddle shoes, and a Leica camera hanging from his neck. Despite his distinctive ensemble, he traveled stealthily amongst the kaleidoscope of moving parts looking for the picture. He made sure not to call attention to himself. He was on the hunt. He knew there was a picture in the making. Kinetic energy filled the square. Eisenstaedt wished for others to feel it, too. To create that sense, Eisenstaedt’s photo needed a tactile element. It was a tall order for the five-foot, four-inch photographer. He relished the challenge.

At some point after 1:00 pm, Eisenstaedt took a picture of several women celebrating in front of a theater across the street from the 42nd Street subway station stairwell. The picture showed ladies throwing pieces of paper into the air, creating a mini-ticker-tape parade. While the photo had its charm, it was not the defining picture Eisenstaedt was searching for that day.

Shortly after closing the shutter on that scene, he turned to his left and looked up Broadway and 7th Avenue to where 43rd Street connected to Times Square’s main artery. As Eisenstaedt continued to search for a photograph that would forever define the moment at hand, he peered around and beneath, but probably not over, the sea of humanity. News of the war’s end had primed America’s meeting place for a one-in-a-million kind of picture. A prospect would present itself soon. Eisenstaedt knew that. So he looked and waited.

The Kiss

Greta Zimmer stood motionless in Times Square near a replica of the Statue of Liberty and a model of the Marines raising the flag at Iwo Jima. To Greta’s left was Childs restaurant, one of several in New York, including this establishment at 7th Avenue and 49th Street. But Greta did not come to Times Square to stare at statues or belly up to bars. She wanted to read the Times zipper and learn if Japan really had surrendered to the United States.

With the 44th Street sign and the Astor Hotel to her back, she looked up at the tall triangular building that divided one street into two. The lit message running around the Times Building read, “VJ, VJ, VJ, VJ . . .” Greta gazed at the moving type without blinking. A faint smile widened her lips and narrowed her eyes. She took in the moment fully and thought, The war is over. It’s really over.

Though Greta had arrived in Times Square by herself, she was not alone. While she continued to watch the motioning “VJ” message, hundreds of people moved around her. Greta paid little attention to the swelling mass of humanity. But they were about to take notice of her, and never forget what they saw. Within a few seconds she became Times Square’s nucleus. Everybody orbited around her, with one exception. He was drawn to her.

Fresh from the revelry at a Childs on 49th, George Mendonsa and his new girlfriend, Rita Petry, made their way down Times Square toward the 42nd Street subway station. Rita fell behind George by a few steps. Meanwhile, Eisenstaedt persisted in his hunt for the photo. After traveling a block or so up Times Square, he took notice of a fast moving sailor who he thought he saw grabbing a woman and kissing her. That sailor was heading quickly south down Broadway and 7th Avenue. Wondering what he might do next, Eisenstaedt changed direction and raced ahead of the darting sailor. To avoid bumping into people in the crowded street, he had to look away from the sailor he was trying to track. He struggled to regain his focus on the Navy man wearing the formal Navy blue uniform. As he did so, Greta looked away from the Times zipper and started to turn to her right. George crossed the intersection of 44th and 7th Avenue, lengthening the space between him and Rita. The photographer, the sailor, and the dental assistant were on a collision course.

With a quickening pace that matched the surrounding scene’s rising pulse, the sailor who served his country aboard The Sullivans zeroed in on a woman whom he assumed to be a nurse. The liquor running through his veins transfixed his glassy stare. He remembered a war scene when he had rescued maimed sailors from a burning ship in a vast ocean of water. Afterward, gentle nurses, angels in white, tended to the injured men. From the bridge of The Sullivans he watched them perform miracles. Their selfless service reassured him that one day the war would end. Peace would reign, again. That day had arrived.

George steamed forward several more feet. His girlfriend was now farther behind. He focused on Greta, the “nurse.” She remained unaware of his advance. That served his purpose well. He sought no permission for what he was about to do. He just knew that she looked like those nurses who saved lives during the war. Their care and nurturing had provided a short and precious reprieve from kamikaze-filled skies. But that nightmare had ended. And there she stood. Before him. With background noises barely registering, he rushed toward her as if in a vacuum.

Though George halted his steps just before running into Greta, his upper torso’s momentum swept over her. The motion’s force bent Greta backward and to her right. As he overtook Greta’s slender frame, his right hand cupped her slim waist. He pulled her inward toward his lean and muscular body. Her initial attempt to physically separate her person from the intruder proved a futile exertion against the dark-uniformed man’s strong hold. With her right arm pinned between their two bodies, she instinctively brought her left arm and clenched fist upward in defense. The effort was unnecessary. He never intended to hurt her.

As their lips locked, his left arm supported her neck. His left hand, turned backward and away from her face, offered the singular gesture of restraint, caution or doubt. The struck pose created an oddly appealing mixture of brutish force, caring embrace, and awkward hesitation. He didn’t let go. As he continued to lean forward, she lowered her right arm and gave over to her pursuer—but only for three or four seconds. He tried to hold her closer, wanting the moment to last longer. And longer still. But they parted, the space between them and the moment shared ever widening, releasing the heat born from their embrace into the New York summer afternoon.

The encounter, brief and impromptu, transpired beyond the participants’ governance. Even George, the initiator, commanded little more resolve than a floating twig in a rushing river of fate. He just had to kiss her. He didn’t know why.

For that moment, George had thought Times Square’s streets belonged to him. They did not. Alfred Eisenstaedt owned them. When he was on assignment, nothing worth capturing on film escaped his purview. Before George and Greta parted, Eisenstaedt spun around, aimed his Leica and clicked the camera’s shutter release closed four times. One of those clicks produced V-J Day, 1945, Times Square. That photograph became his career’s most famous, Life magazine’s most reproduced, and one of history’s most popular. The image of a sailor kissing a nurse on the day World War II ended kept company with Joe Rosenthal’s photo of the flag raising at Iwo Jima. That photo proudly exemplified what a hard-fought victory looks like. This photo savored what a long-sought peace feels like.

Alfred Eisenstaedt was not the only photographer to take notice of George and Greta. Navy Lieutenant Victor Jorgensen, standing to Eisenstaedt’s right, fired off one shot of the entwined couple at the precise moment the Life photographer took his second picture of four. Though Jorgensen’s photo did not captivate audiences to the same degree that Eisenstaedt’s second photograph did, Kissing the War Goodbye drew many admirers as well.

And then it was over. Shortly after the taking of V-J Day, 1945, Times Square, Greta returned to the dental office and told everyone what was happening on the streets. Dr. Berke had her cancel the rest of the day’s appointments and closed the office. Afterward, as Greta made her way home, another sailor kissed her, this time politely on the cheek. For this kiss Greta no longer wore her dental assistant uniform and no photographers took her picture. And as far she could tell, she had not been photographed at any point in time during that day. She did not learn otherwise until years later, when she saw Eisenstaedt’s photograph of a Times Square couple kissing in a book entitled The Eyes of Eisenstaedt.

George did not realize that he had been photographed, either. When George turned from the act he’d instigated, he smiled at Rita and offered little explanation for what had transpired. As hard as it is to believe, she made no serious objection. George’s actions fell within the acceptable norms of August 14, 1945, but not any other day. Actually, neither George nor Rita thought much of the episode and proceeded to Rita’s parents’ home via the 42nd Street subway train. Later that evening, the Petrys transported George to LaGuardia Airport for a flight to San Francisco that left at approximately midnight. Neither he nor Rita discovered Eisenstaedt’s V-J Day, 1945, Times Square until 1980.

Excerpt reprinted, by permission, from Lawrence Verria and George Galdorisi,

The Kissing Sailor: The Mystery Behind the Photo That Ended World War II

(Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 2012).

https://www.usni.org/magazines/naval-history-magazine/2012/july/story-behind-famous-kiss

#Story Behind the Famous Kiss #The Kissing Sailor #NYC

[maarmendes]

Chapter 2: Unknown Territory [II]

Warnings: Swearing, fighting, mental illness... (the main characters are pretty rough around the edges)

Genre: OC insertion; angst; fluff; others.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x OC [Anahita Shuzenji]

Word Count: 2751

Tags: @bnhabookclub​

[Wattpad Link]

Lunch with Bakugo was nicer than expected. We had a lot more in common than I thought. Besides both of us getting in trouble a lot and both getting caught by villains, we both liked old rock bands, MMA, and old action movies. No matter how nicely we hit it off, I couldn't bring myself to be honest with what happened to me. Not that Bakugo would ask me anyway. I was grateful for how understanding he was. We also shared notes on other heroes, he gave me work-out advice and I helped with some strategy studying. It felt like any gaps one of us had, the other would fill in perfectly. He was more of a strength and power type of person, as I was a speed and strategy type of person. Not to say he wasn't good at strategy, he was one of the smartest persons I've met even if he didn't show it. Bakugo admitted he had a tendency to let his emotions get the best of him. I admitted I did as well and it took some training to deal with it. But we also disagree in a lot, such as how good that sandwich place actually was. It wasn't that good. He was delusional.

"I can't believe you're eating ice-cream... It's still cold out!" Bakugo frowned.

"I've told you already like ten times! There's no such thing as the perfect time to eat sweet stuff,-"

"Except all the time... Yeah, yeah, I get it!" He finished for me with an eye-roll.

"If you're that worried, you can always warm me up..." I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.

"I'll fucking blast you into fucking space."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Blast Boy!"

Teasing Bakugo was turning into my most amusing hobby. It's not like he'd get flustered, that wouldn't suit his 'cool' demeanor. Instead he'd get annoyed, and that's way more entertaining. Back at the U.A, we were met with Aizawa already in class.

"I told you to keep her out of trouble, not kidnap her during lunch." Aizawa glared at us.

"Calm down, old man. It was just a sandwich!"

I prayed for Bakugo's soul. May he rest in peace and find solace in his next life. Blessed be, Blasty.

Luckily, Aizawa simply sighed pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I don't have time for this... Gear up, you're training with All Might today." I jumped in excitement. Training with the number one hero? That would be the best research opportunity I could ask for. "Except you, Ana. You're with me." All excitement washed away and Bakugo muffled a laugh as he walked away.

"What? Why?!" I walked over to the teacher in hopes of begging for mercy. "Aizawa, please... I promise I will never leave without telling you first ever again!" Adding a pout for good measure was useless against this man.

"You didn't do any of your tests and I have to submit them before the end of the day." I kept pouting, hoping I could at least get something out of it, and I did. With a grunt he caved in. "You can join the rest of the class after the tests."

I threw a punch in the air in victory and wasted no time running over to get my gear, shouting a quick thanks over my shoulder. I was excited about getting my suit on and jumping back into action! It'd been a few weeks since I'd been allowed to go all out and the tests would serve as a nice warm-up. And All Might? The cherry on top of this messed up situation I call life. I was glad the girls shared my enthusiasm for our first real training session. Once changed and walking back to class, we were all having fun commenting on our suits.

"Uraraka! We're twins!" She took a good look at me and laughed.

"Oh, my God! We're like the Pink and Blue Bodysuit Crew!" I gasped dramatically. That got all the girls laughing. I had to admit, she got us a pretty cool team name.

"Then Tsu and Mina can be the Green Dream Team! And Momo, Jiro, and Toru..." I paused for a moment. "The Sexy Squad?" This time I burst out laughing with them.

I'm glad I could fit in even if I got into the class later than the others. They were all very welcoming despite the fact they knew nothing about me or why I transferred. Walking into class, a ping of sadness hit me when I realized I had to leave them.

"Sit down. All Might will be here soon to take you to Ground Beta, where you'll get special training. I'll leave the explaining to him." He turned to me. "Let's get this over with, kiddo."

I sighed and waved the girls goodbye while I followed him out. Taking one last glance over my shoulder at Bakugo, he paid no attention to anyone around him while adjusting the biggest grenades I'd ever seen around his wrists. It amused me how much they suited him.

Once outside, Aizawa didn't waste any time pushing me to the limit. From jumping as high as possible to running as fast as possible to bench pressing the heaviest weights. By the end of the tests, All Might was a long-gone dream of mine.

"Come on, get up. I've seen you do more for less." Aizawa dragged me to my feet.

"For the last time... It wasn't for nothing! I got free pizza."

"And now you get to meet All Might. Sounds more worth it than pizza." I retorted with a look. That was as much as I was willing to move. "Come on, I'll take you there."

For some reason, it still surprised me that we had to drive to some facilities in this school. The amount of resources they have will always astonish me. Once there, Aizawa guided me to some kind of control room where the class was watching some team practice All Might plan out.

"All Might. This is Anahita Shuzenji, Recovery Girl's granddaughter." Aizawa introduced me and I couldn't help but beam at the giant in front of me.

"Ah! Young Shuzenji! Welcome to class 1-A!" Some explosions on-screen caught my attention and I shot the hero a questioning look. "Ah, yes! Today's exercise! The students were divided into teams, some will take the role of heroes and others the villains. The goal is to secure the payload the villains are keeping somewhere in the building with minimal casualties."

A bigger explosion echoed in the room along with a few gasps. Looking at the screen I recognized the sandy-hair student. Bakugo was ceaselessly attacking Midoriya, leaving no room for the boy to breathe. It was the most intense battle I'd ever seen. The look of pure rage in Bakugo's face told me this fight had gone out of hand a long while ago.

"All Might..." Aizawa's tone was low and cold. "Did you just put Katsuki Bakugo in a fight against Izuku Midoriya after I told you to not do exactly that?"

I never thought I'd see the number one hero cower under anyone's gaze, but I guess Aizawa had to be the one to do it.

"I- I might have forgotten about that..."

The giant cleared his throat, avoiding Aizawa's glare. Turning on the microphone, All Might issued Bakugo a warning in hopes to calm the fight down without calling it off. To no one's surprise, that only pushed Bakugo further off the edge. With what to us was a silent scream, the boy blasted off back into the fight. Everyone was commenting on his fighting style and how talented he was, but I couldn't focus on that. This wasn't fair. This isn't what heroes are supposed to do. Heroes are supposed to protect, not hurt. During lunch, Bakugo expressed how much he wanted to fight to the top and become the best hero ever, but also admitted he wanted to protect people, followed by some threats about if I ever told anyone about it. He made it sound like we shared the same desire to make the world a better place... But this wasn't it.

"Call it off..." I mumbled as I watched the boys run towards each other with one last cry of war. "Call it off! He's gonna hurt him!" I turned to Aizawa in a frenzy but it was too late. Midoriya screams and one last explosion echoes. Uraraka deals the last blow and All Might gives the sign.

The fight was over.

"The heroes win!" The hero yelled at the microphone as I bolted out of the room. Midoriya needed immediate medical support. There are only so many blasts one can take. Aizawa tried to stop me but there was no way I'd let this go on anymore.

Running into the building as fast as I could, I get in just in time to see Bakugo standing over Midoriya, trembling with rage.

"Bakugo! Stop!" I yelled out and he froze. I spared no attention to the idiot as I run past him to assist Midoriya. The boy had fainted from exhaustion after sustaining many burns and breaking his arm. He held out for as long as it took to win the challenge and could not fight a minute longer,  yet Bakugo showed no mercy. I placed his head on my lap and brush his hair off his bruised face. Rage built up in my chest as I stared at the poor boy on my lap.

"How much of a dickhead can you be?!" Bakugo wasn't expecting the bitterness in my tone. He glared back at me but I stopped him before he could say anything stupid. "You lied to me! You told me you'd make the world a better place! You liar!" I burst out, unable to contain the emotion in my voice. "You're supposed to be good. You're supposed to be a hero! You're worse than a bully, you're a villain!"

I took the crack in my voice as a sign to stop talking and start helping Midoriya. Bakugo didn't say anything back to me. He just stared at the ground, quiet as I healed his opponent. Aizawa and All Might arrived soon with a stretcher and I followed Aizawa as we took the boy back so my grandma could look after him.

I couldn't look at Bakugo. When we hanged out, we shared the same ideas on what it means to be a true hero, to protect everyone from villains. But now, he seemed more like a villain than a hero... Maybe that's why they put us together. Two kids at risk of becoming this worlds' worst nightmare. I couldn't blame them though. I just thought maybe Bakugo would call out to me and prove me wrong.

But he didn't.

Leaving the class behind, I insisted on taking Midoriya back with Aizawa. I was worried he might wake up in pain on the drive back. I wasn't as much of a healer as grandma was, but I could at least reduce his pain and lull him back to sleep. I played with Midoriya's hair in the hope it makes him feel better. I wished I could do more for him, but I wasn't strong enough yet.

"Feeling better?" Aizawa glanced over the mirror.

"I don't know, he's still unconscious."

"I was talking about you." My attention shifted towards the teacher, not understanding what he was getting at. "I heard what you told Bakugo... It was a bit too much, Ana."

"He lied. I thought he was different, but he's just another jackass." I looked back at the bruised boy on my lap.

"Watch your mouth, Ana." I scoffed at him, earning a glare. "You shouldn't judge people when you have no idea what's going on in their lives. Especially Bakugo. That short temper of his already got him into enough problems as it is."

"That doesn't justify his actions!" My voice came out louder than intended.

"Anahita." He called out softly. "Sometimes we need to be understanding in order to help others. He messed up, that doesn't mean he's hopeless. He just needs a little patience."

I knew he was right, Aizawa was always right. He always knew what to say when I mess up. And I knew I messed up. I said something I would hate to hear and I didn't even understand the situation. There's no excuse for his aggressive behavior but there's no reason for me to be an ass too. There's no way I'd forgive Bakugo for his behavior, even if I had to apologize for what I said. I stayed silent for a while, reflecting on my actions, much as I usually do after getting told off by Aizawa.

"I'm sorry..." I sighed. "I know you're right. I'm sorry I did it... And I'm sorry I raised my voice at you."

"Don't sweat it, kiddo. I got you." He smirked at me over the mirror, making me smile and remember why I look up to him so much.

Back in the main building, I left Midoriya with Aizawa. He instructed me to change, grab my stuff, and meet him back in his office. Sometimes I wish I'd never done anything stupid enough to call for this sweatshop labor... Or at least that I wouldn't have been caught. But I did. And now I have to help Aizawa with his stupid paperwork until grandma's ready to go home.

I was making my way back to class when I spot Bakugo stomping down the hall, a distraught Kirishima trying to catch up behind him. I knew I had to apologize sooner or later, and I'm too impulsive to wait around for the perfect timing, so I might as well get this over with. Running to catch up to him, I called out.

"Bakugo!" He stopped. "We need to talk."

"I don't wanna hear it!" He faced me, clearly still upset, and got closer glaring down at me as he yelled. "You can fuck right off with your stupid opinions! Sorry if I didn't meet your dumb fucking expectations. Too bad you're disappointed, I don't fucking care! So you can fuck right off." We stayed like that for a minute. Both glaring at each other infuriated in our own ways. I tried not to forget what Aizawa said about patience, but he didn't mention anything about being polite though.

"I came to apologize, dipshit!" That remark made Kirishima wince and Bakugo freeze. "I know I was an asshole and I wanted to apologize because I know I did something stupid. Now, my 'stupid opinions' and my 'dumb fucking expectations' used to be the same as yours, asshole! You said so at lunch. That is why I'm so pissed off!" Poking my finger on his chest I unintentionally get louder. "You know you fucked up! You know you did something stupid! And, even if I was indeed too harsh, you know you deserved to be called the fuck out! I'm sorry I hurt you but no way in fucking hell I'll ever be sorry for calling you out on being a fucking dick." Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed a handful of my grandma's signature candy and threw them in his face. "And here! Have some sweets! Maybe then you'll stop being so god damn salty."

I stomped away, leaving a really scared Kirishima mumbling something about Bakugo finally meeting his match. I didn't care. I did what I had to do. If he wants me to fuck off, then so be it, I'll fuck right off just like he wants. I paced around the changing room, still pissed at the way he spoke. I knew he had some anger issues, it was obvious, but you hit it off nicely during lunch.

I thought I'd made a friend, guess it was all bullshit.

I took one last deep breath proceeding to get changed, following Aizawa's orders. All I wanted was to forget about this and get back to work. Who cares about some stupid bully either way? It doesn't matter. It's not like I need anyone anyway. I'll get to the top on my own. People are just a distraction from my goals anyway. Nothing good comes from trusting someone anyway.

That's what I told myself for the rest of the day. Helping Aizawa, walking home, doing homework, eating dinner, laying in bed...

I don't need anyone.

[NEXT CHAPTER]

#bakubro #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo x reader #bakugo #bakusquad #bakubabe #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bnha bakugo #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha katsuki #katsuki #kaachan #bnha bakugou katsuki #mha #mha oc #bnha fanfiction #bnha fic #mha bakugo #bnha imagines #bnha scenarios #bnha writing #bakugou imagine #bakugo imagine #mha writing #fanfic #fanfiction #paroxysm

[queencocoakimmie]

Just Us (Jim Mason)

Jim Mason X Female Reader

Word Count: +6000 

Warnings: Angst, talk of suicide, smut, unprotected sex, drug use.

A/N: So, Surprise! If you know me, you know that I love Cody’s character, Jim Mason. I think I’ve seen The Tribes of Palos Verdes so many times, and it always leaves me feeling so brokenhearted. I’ve always wanted to give him a different ending, maybe even a happier one. This fic runs along the same theme as the movie, except it diverges in the middle. I changed a couple of characters and some big parts. The Real Estate Agent (Ava) that Phil (the twins’ dad) falls in love with, has a son in the movie, but in this fic, she actually has a daughter, our protagonist. It gets really deep for a bit. The girl suffered a big loss in her life and her memories of it are pretty raw. Anyway, I hope that you like it. Here we go.

           Life in Palos Verdes was boring. Every day was literally the same thing over and over. School, the country club, this fucking house. It was all so monotonous. I hated it here and longed to be away, maybe someplace new. New York? Miami? Mexico? The only thing that I loved about this place was the beach. It’s like the ocean would call my name and beg me to go out there and sketch it. It was all around us, and it was mine.

           I would stare out of my window for hours, it would seem and daydream about moving away from everyone. From her. My relationship with my mother was complicated at best. At worst? I hated that bitch and she hated me. She was your typical Palos Verdes sheep. They all played tennis in their tight, little green tennis outfits, trying to bag the next rich guy or fuck the towel boy. They would gossip in the club’s restaurant and be drunk by noon. Every time there was a new member, they’d swarm them like sharks at a feeding frenzy. I hated them.

Ava (my mom) would always try to get me to hang around with them and maybe go on dates with their sons. Seriously? What would I want with them? They all looked the same. Like they all came out of the same lame factory or something.

Then one night, she dragged me to some party at the club. “We have a new family to welcome”, she said. Like I cared. “Honey, they have a son and a daughter, maybe you’ll hit it off with them. I sold them a house, isn’t that funny? The kids’ father seems so…nice.” Dear God, I knew that twinkle in her eye. She thought he was attractive. I feel sorry for his wife, against my piranha of a mother, she’ll stand no chance.

The party was like everything else here, bland and full of middle-aged rich people, trying to be cool. I saw some kids from school and waved to them. But I had zero interest in talking to any of them. It was enough that I saw them at school during the day, but here? Now? Nope. I wanted to get away. Take a midnight swim. Sketch some doodles by the water. Forget about my life for a few hours.

I saw the pack descend on the new family. There were people all over them, I couldn’t even get a good look at them. All I could hear were people saying how good looking a family they were. How nice they seemed. Great, another group of social climbers, as if we didn’t already have enough. I had to leave.

I walked outside onto the lanai and felt the cool breeze from the water roll off my skin. The air was clean and fresh, not like other places. I could taste the salt in the air when I opened my mouth. The DJ put on some 90’s hip-hop and I started to sway to it. It reminded me of my dad. He loved 90’s music. God, I miss him.

“Hey” I heard a small voice from behind me say. I turn to see a pretty blond girl who looks a bit lost. “Hey,” I say back. She stands next to me and we both look out at the ocean. We don’t say a word to each other. It’s like…it’s like we just understand. Is that weird?

After a few minutes of silence, I say, “My name is Kassidy, but people just call me Kass.” She nods her head. But, before she can tell me her name, she sees her mom and takes off without saying a word. I call after her, “Nice to meet you.” She turns back to wave then continues walking over to her mother.

It’s a curious sight watching the two of them. The mom was sitting there smoking all by herself. The girl walks over to her and sits next to her on the steps. They’re actually talking to each other. I wish I had that with my mom. After dad died, our relationship was never the same. She didn’t talk to me for a while, she said that I looked too much like him and it hurt her to see me. As if that was my fault.

I see them both look off into the distance and I follow their gaze. I see Heather has caught another boy in her web. He’s cute and a bit dorky. He’s wearing a sombrero, with a white shirt and tie. Totally not Heather’s type. He has a nice smile, though.

No longer wanting to stick around, I leave the party, without my mother. What’s the worst the could happen? I get grounded? Big deal. I’d rather walk along the beach anyway, alone. I look back and see the mom and daughter still talking. Tears sting my eyes. Ava and I would never be like that. There’s too much baggage there. In two years, I’ll be 18, then I’ll go wherever I want. Do whatever I want. I’ll be away from her and this place.

At school the next day, I see the new girl at the lunch table by herself. I contemplate walking over there to sit with her because she seems lonely. Instead, I join my friends, if that’s what you would call them. They’re in mid-conversation about the new kids. “She’s weird. Her brother is over there with them and she’s sitting by herself?” “What a freak!” I shake my head, “Guys, you don’t even know her, chill.” They laugh and call me sensitive. “It’s gotta be hard coming here from another place. We’ve been in Palos Verdes our whole lives. It’s gotta be a culture shock.” They nod their heads in agreement and then start talking about plans for the weekend. I look back over to her and feel her sadness. She’s staring at her brother. He seemed to fit right in with everybody. Ugh, Heather is sitting on the edge of the table, flirting heavily with him. I roll my eyes. I hate that girl.

In class, I say hi to her as I pass her desk. She looks up at me and smiles, “hey”.  I sit at the desk next to her and get my books and pencils out. “My name’s Medina. I didn’t get to tell you the other night.” I smile at her. She seems like a sad soul. Kind of like me.

After school is over, I wait for my mom on the steps of the school and see her and her brother ride off on their bikes. I wish I could go with them, they look so happy. What I would give to have that. If only my dad were here…

One night, I overheard Ava on the phone with some man, making plans for the night. It makes me sick to my stomach. Here she goes again. Pretty soon, she’ll come up and tell me to get lost, go stay at friend’s house, so she can have some privacy. I leave before she comes to knock on my door. I run out to the beach and strip off my clothes. My tears mixing with the salty water. I sob into the waves. My lonely mother, stalking her prey, like a hungry animal. She can’t have her own happiness, so she’s going to take someone else’s. It’s not fair.

I swim until my arms are sore. I can’t do this anymore. I contemplate drowning myself right here and now, to escape the pain. But, a memory of my dad flashes through my mind. He’s laughing and teaching me how to swim. We were so happy then. It’s been so long since he’s been gone, that I’ve begun to forget his voice. He had such sad eyes. Like Medina, like Jim. I drag myself out of the water and dry myself off. I go home to pack an overnight bag. I’ll have to find a place to sleep tonight.

I text Medina. She says come right over. We all stay up late that night. Laying on the floor, me, her and Jim. Talking about moving to Bali or Fiji, getting away from here. Jim rubs my back and I feel a tingle go down my spine. Medina throws a pillow at me and laughs. We all end up falling asleep on the floor of Medina’s room, wrapped up in each other’s arms. I wish I could freeze this moment and keep it forever.

As time goes by, Medina, Jim and I spend more time together. Most of it is spent watching them surf, while I sketch them in my notebook. We laugh and talk about the future. What we want to do or hope to have. I can tell there is something just underneath the surface. A tension going on behind the scenes. There’s a real sadness that’s taken over the two of them. I want to ask, but I’m afraid.

Medina texted me one afternoon and told me to meet them at our usual spot. I rush out of the house and arrive to see a big group of people hanging out. I’m confused because the Bay Boys are there. I expected just the three of us, like always. The guys are passing beer and weed around, and pills too. I see Heather and she’s cornered, Jim. I watch helplessly as she reaches up on her tiptoes to kiss him. It hurts and I feel my heartbreak. I turn to see that Medina has seen it too. She looks at me in horror. She knew how I felt about him.

When it would be just me and her, she would tease me about how I looked at him, how I acted around him. “Medina, you’re insane. You guys are like my family. I don’t see him like that, he is like my brother.” She would roll her eyes and nod, “Yeah, ok Kass. I see things y’know.”

The sun goes down and they’re all high and drunk. Even Jim. His eyes glazed over and blissed out. He’s not acting like himself. I watch as he runs and jumps on the hood of someone’s car and hangs on as it drives around in circles. It’s not like him. I look over to Medina and she shakes her head. She doesn’t know what to do either. We get away from the group and find ourselves sitting together on the rocks watching the waves crash against the shore.  

“You should tell him, you know.” She breaks the silence. I don’t look at her, but I know what she’s talking about. “You should tell him that you’re in love with him. If you don’t, I will.” I sigh, “But Medina, he’s with Heather. I don’t want to break them up. I’d be just like Ava.” It hurts to say that out loud. I’ve never said that to anyone. I’ve never actually acknowledged what she had done to our family. “You can’t tell your heart what not to feel, Kass. You should just tell him.”

Medina calls me frantic one day. Her father told her that he’s fallen in love with someone else. That he has a new chance in life to have love. “How could he do this to us?” She screams over and over into the phone. When I get there, her and Jim are standing outside, hugging each other. I can still hear their mother screaming at their dad. It’s hard to hear because it reminds me of my parents. I grab them both and we all stand there, locked into this triangle embrace. I feel their loss. I’ve been through this before.

When my Dad found out that my mom was cheating on him. He flipped out and lost it. It really broke his heart. They argued and argued, and things never got better. After the divorce, I would still try to see him every day after school, but it got really tough. He was so sad all of the time. Until one day, I came to visit him and there were an ambulance and police cars outside. I tried to run to the condo, but they kept pushing me back. One of the neighbors came over to me and hugged me. She kept apologizing to me. I saw them roll the stretcher out of his condo. Realization and nausea hit me like a wave. It was him. It was my Dad.

I’m there long enough to hear my mom’s name come up in their parents’ argument and I crane my neck to hear what they’re saying. He said that he loves her and has a chance to be happy. She screams when she realizes that Ava is the Real Estate agent, they had dinner with a year ago, the one that sold them this house. Jim and Medina look at me and Medina says, “Isn’t that your mom?” I nod my head and we all just stand there in silence. We don’t know what to say to each other.

My phone buzzes as I see Phil’s car pull away from the house. It’s her, it’s Ava. I don’t answer. I know what she wants to tell me. I throw my phone into the sand. I hate her even more now.

Time passes and Phil has now moved into our house. It’s so disturbing to see him at the kitchen table in the morning. Sitting in the same spot my dad used to. He tries to talk to me, to reach out but I have nothing to say to him. I don’t want a “relationship” with him. Even if they are engaged. She scolds me for not speaking to my soon-to-be stepfather. Disgusting.

Medina and I have grown closer as we’ve grown apart from our parents. All we have is each other these days. Jim is growing more and more distant. When I see him now, he’s always so wasted. I’m worried about him. Medina tells me that she’s watching him spiral and she can’t do anything to stop it. Their mother, Sandy, is so deep into her depression, that she doesn’t even notice Jim’s change. She’s even begun to treat him like a husband instead of a son. She reminds me of my Dad when he started to lose himself.

A text in the middle of the night from Medina, makes me jump in my seat by the window. I have insomnia so at night when I can’t sleep, I draw. I was lost in concentration. Sketching the planes of Jim’s face from memory, when her frantic texts ping on my phone. She tells me to meet her at the hospital. When I get there, I find her sitting next to a sleeping Jim. He’s wearing a hospital gown, with tubes in his arms. She looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “He overdosed tonight. He almost died.” She cries. I feel myself get faint. My poor sweet Jim, laying there like an Angel. He looks so…

I walk over to him and touch his cheek and it’s cold. My heart is heavy because I know that he is struggling with so much inner turmoil. Trying to be strong for Medina. Trying to be supportive to Sandy. But who is there for him? Who can he turn to? He can’t lay all of his problems at his sister’s feet. My poor Jim is lost. But, not anymore, he has me. I lean forward and kiss his forehead and whisper in his ear, “I love you, James.”

Medina and I walk outside, arms around each other. Her mother looks at us both with so much spite. I’m almost certain that she hates not only me but Medina as well. We sit together in the waiting room all night. We make a promise to each other, from here on out, it’s just us. No more Sandy, Ava. No more Phil no more Heather. Just us.

It’s been months since that night. Jim hasn’t touched the drugs. We’ve stuck to our pact, even after Ava married their Dad. The night of my 17th birthday, they all planned a party at the country club. I didn’t want to go, but Medina convinced me. I knew that they were going to be there, so it made me feel better. I had shut myself off from the other people I used to hang out with. They were toxic and immature. Lately, my life seemed to revolve around the twins. At times, I thought that maybe we suffocated each other, but in all actuality, we needed each other. No one else understood loneliness like ours. My love for Jim grew by the minute. I was in love with every detail of him. His floppy hair that always fell into his eyes. The beauty marks that dotted his face and chest. His smile and the way he would laugh at my stupid jokes. Medina would beg me to tell him, he wasn’t with Heather anymore, so there’d be no excuse not to.

           She helped me pick out the dress I got for my party. We had gone into town that previous weekend to buy it. Jim didn’t want to go with us, he couldn’t stand shopping at girly stores. Instead, he went surfing. We worried so about him but he assured us that he would be safe. She picked out a pretty, pale pink sheath dress that fell like silk against my tanned skin. I secretly hoped that it would catch his eye and make him look at me differently.

           The party goes off without a hitch. The country club ballroom was cordoned off just for me. Ava and Phil stood over there in the middle of it all like it was their party. They were it new “it couple”, holding court for the masses. They see me and wave me over to them, to bask in adoration. These people are fake and clamoring for their attention. Half of them don’t even know me.

           After, all the glad-handing, I searched the crowd for the twins. I had started to get nervous until I saw Medina. Her head thrown back in laughter, she was talking to a boy. I remember her talking about him, a few weeks back. His name was Adrian. He was cute, with dark hair and long eyelashes. I watched as she touched his arm and he touched her hand. It made me smile to see her so happy. She deserved that. I kept looking through the crowd for Jim. But when I couldn’t find him and that little bit of pain grew in my heart, I left the ballroom to get away. I couldn’t let anyone see me cry. Today of all days.

When I reach the end of the hallway, I look around to make sure no one is there. I feel the tears well up and the sob begins to rip from my chest. Tonight, was the night I was going to tell him. I was going to tell him that I love him. I’ve loved him since the first time I saw him, with that silly sombrero on his head. I was going to tell him that I needed him more than a friend.

A hand touches my shoulder and I jump. “Hey, what are you crying for?” His voice, so sweet and smooth. I don’t want to face him, I’m too embarrassed. He walks around and steps in front of me. He places one hand on my waist and one under my chin. “Hey”, his voice softer now, “Kass, what’s wrong?” I look up at him, eyes blurry and I say, “I thought you weren’t here. I thought you hadn’t come.” It sounds stupid when I say it out loud. “Why wouldn’t I come, you’re my best friend.”

He pulls me closer to him and stares into my eyes. His face full of understanding, and I think for the first time, he really sees me. He understands my tears. He holds me and we look at each other for what seems like forever. I’m sure he knows how I feel. But I’m too scared to say it.

I hear my name being called, and I know that this moment is gone. He takes my hand and we walk back to the party, not wanting this to end. We walk in and everyone starts singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me. I smile, cheeks blushing. They bring out the big cake and it has seventeen beautiful candles on it. I look over at Ava and she smiles at me, a real smile. She tells me to make a wish. I look over at Medina and Jim, as they flank either side of me. They smile big smiles at me too, they’re happiness filling me with joy. Jim squeezes my hand, I close my eyes, make my wish and I blow out my candles.

A few weeks later, I hear Phil tell Ava that Sandy is going away for a while to get some help and that he wants Jim and Medina to live with us. But he worries about Jim and I being around each other too much. He suspects that we are more than just friends. “It wouldn’t be right, Ava. They’re step-siblings”. After a minute of silence, she says, “If they are in love, it’s not our job to stand in their way. They have been close since before you and I were even together. How horrible would it be to tear that apart?” She’s never stood up for me before. Not for school, not with anything, so I stand there eavesdropping at their door in shock. “Besides, who gives a shit what anyone has to say about us or them?” She continues, “It’s none of their goddamn business. If the kids want to, let them move in for however long they want.”

After they move in, everything is like a dream. We hang out every day on the beach after school, them surfing, me drawing. We have study sessions and throw chips at each other when the topic is getting too boring or we’ve had enough. We have big breakfasts with each other and laugh at our inside jokes. Medina’s boyfriend, Adrian comes around a lot, so now our group of three has expanded to a group of four. Jim and I are getting closer and closer. We have tiny moments when I think something will happen. A brush of his fingertips across my hand when we pass each other. His hand on my hip, when he reaches up to get the cereal over our heads. When he lingers in my bedroom after we all say goodnight. It’s there, that sexual tension. It hangs over us, like a cord ready to snap.

Movie Fridays we all usually go out together, but this time Medina is sick, and Adrian is upstairs taking care of her. Ava and Phil have gone to Paris for some work conference thing of his. It’s just me and Jim and it’s my turn to pick the movie. He makes a huge bowl of popcorn and grabs candy from the pantry. “Ok, Kass, what are we watching tonight?” I picked out ‘A Quiet Place’, I remember Jim saying that he had seen it and thought it was so good. “I thought scary movies freaked you out?” I nod and say, “But you’re here with me. I won’t be too scared.”

As the movie goes on and my anxiety level ratchets up, I feel my nerves bundling. I moved so close to him, I’m almost on top of his thigh. A jump scare happens on screen and I gasp and bury my face into his chest. He wraps his arm around me and when I look up at him, I become hyper-aware of his body and that we are alone. Our eyes lock onto one another and everything else falls away.

Our eyes saying things to each other that words could never convey. I move closer to him, doe-eyed, lips wet. He brings his other hand down to touch my face. “You are so beautiful, Kassidy.” Slowly, our lips meet, and the kiss is passionate and tender. I was expecting it to be hungry and ravenous. But it’s gentle and loving. He runs his hand through my hair and grips it at the base of my head. I feel him moan against my lips when I touch his inner thigh. He pulls me onto his lap and lifts my shirt up over my head. I’ve been around him plenty of times in my bathing suit, but this is so intimate, I suddenly become nervous. I cover up my stomach with my arm, not wanting him to see my soft belly. He pulls my arm away and places my hand on his face. I kiss him again and help him take off his shirt. We share an unspoken understanding. We belong to each other. He asks for my permission to keep going and I nod. He then unfastens my bra and frees my breasts, from their constriction. I sigh audibly at the welcome relief. He holds them in his hands and bites his bottom lip. I’ve never been this close to a boy before. I’ve made out with boys before, but never like this.

He bends his head down and licks languidly at my nipple. I breathe in a sharp intake of air at the sensation. He takes my nipple into his mouth and sucks on it slowly, lazily. I grip his hair, absentmindedly, and pull his head back. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks, huskily. “Please don’t.” I moan. I can feel the wetness pool in my panties, I’m almost certain he can too.

He keeps sucking at my nipple and caressing and pinching the other. I feel my body rocking back and forth on his lap, rubbing myself against his thighs. I don’t know if I can take much more. His bulge growing and becoming harder against his grey sweatpants. He suddenly picks me up and wraps my legs around his waist. “Not here, not like this.”, he says against my neck. He takes me upstairs, kissing me, hands gripping my ass. Our breaths are ragged from excitement. I hear Medina’s door creak open and then shut. I hear her and Adrian laugh. I look down at him and smile, “I think they can hear us.” His blue eyes shine at me, under the moonlight. “I don’t care. I only care about you.” He opens the door and lays me onto the bed.

I look around his room, and his walls are littered with pictures of the three of us. Always the three of us. Laughing, smiling, happy. I look at him standing there and warmth flushes through my body. “I love you, James Mason. I love you with all of my heart.” I scoot to the end of the bed and start to untie his sweatpants, but he stops me. He gets down on his knees and kisses me before he says, “I love you too. I’ve loved you since the beginning. I heard you that night when I was in the hospital. You gave me the will to live. I’m here because you saved me.” I wrap my arms around his neck and tears begin to fall down my face and splash onto his shoulder.

He pulls back from me to wipe my tears and kisses me again. He lays me back down and helps me shimmy out of my pajama pants. Then he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of my panties and slowly pulls them off. The air hits my naked skin, and goosebumps pimple my flesh. I feel so exposed, I put my hand over my vagina. He looks up me, a lust has darkened his face. His eyes look like he is ready to devour me. He pulls my hand away and licks his lips. I raise myself up onto my elbows in anticipation. I’ve always heard how good this feels, but I’ve never experienced this before. I’m not sure what to expect.

He scoots in closer and pushes my legs apart. He starts with tiny little kisses on my inner thighs, and my hips are already bucking against him, “Not yet, kitten, you’re going to have to wait.” I feel the heat low in my abdomen and my mind is starting to spin. His tiny kisses turn into tiny licks and when he gets to my entrance, he licks a flat wide, stripe against my folds. I gasp so loudly, I have to cover my mouth with my hand. He licks slow and gentle against my clit, as I buck against his mouth. My hand buries itself in his hair and pulls on it. He groans and sucks on my clit vigorously. The sensations I’m feeling wrack my body. I’m writhing on the bed and push his face into my dripping cunt. His licks and sucks are becoming wetter and the noises are obscene. The tensions building and building until he gently pushes his index finger into me. He starts off slowly and then in between licks he pushes in a little further. I begin to unravel as I breathlessly call out his name. “Please…don't…stop James.” He inserts another finger and stretches me wide. My body can’t take anymore, and I explode. I scream out his name against the inside of my hand and cum all over his tongue. My body still rolling with pleasure, he licks my cunt clean.

I scoot my body up the bed and he crawls on top of me. His chin glistening with my juices. The moonlight streaming through the windows, playing shadows across his face. I’m so turned on by his smile, I pull him towards me roughly. Kissing him, I can taste the tanginess of myself on his lips. He kisses down the side of my face and onto my neck, I turn my head and see the ripples of muscles in his arms as he holds himself above me. He moves down to suck on my nipples again, but I stop him, “I want you, James. I want all of you.”

“Are you sure? I want you to be sure this is what you want” I nod at him and tell him that I am. He hops off the bed and unties his pants, they drop to the floor and there he is, in all his glory. His dick was hardened and the tip was slick with precum. My mouth waters wanting to taste him in my mouth, but before I can, he crawls back on top of me. Kissing me hungrily, rubbing himself against me. I reach down and grab his dick and he tilts his head back in pleasure. I begin to rub up and down the shaft, circling my thumb on the tip. He growls through gritted teeth, “I need you now, are you ready?” I squeeze his dick in response and open my legs wide. He lines himself up with my entrance and slowly starts to guide himself in. A rush of pain pools in my vagina as he thrusts. He’s so gentle, but my body craves this release. I grab his hips and pull him forward. His eyes go big and he takes this a sign to keep going. His rhythm, in tune with my body, rocks back and forth, going deeper and deeper. We’re both breathing so heavily, moans mixed in unison with each other. I feel so much pleasure that I don’t feel the sting of the loss of my virginity. I dig my fingers into his hips, begging him to fill me up. Harder and faster until we both are slick with sweat; his thumb finds its way to my clit and rubs it in circles. With him pumping in and out of me and playing with my clit, I feel the pressure of another orgasm building. “Do you like that, Kass? Does it feel good inside of you?” He says in my ear. The sensation of his breath of the outer shell of my ear, send shocks down my body. I can’t hold on anymore. My body bucks against him and the sounds of our sweaty bodies slapping against each other is explicit and loud. I cum so hard that my body shakes under his. Still clenched onto him, I feel his movements getting sloppier until his body gives out. He cums, calling out my name and collapses on top of me.

Neither of us moves, even after he’s gone soft inside of me. He lays there, kissing my shoulder and my face. “Are you ok, baby?” I smile at him and tell him that I am. He finally pulls out of me and we both get under the covers. He wraps his arm around me and asks, “I never did ask you, what did you wish for on your birthday?” I roll over and look up at him, “I’ll never tell, but this is pretty damn close.”

2 Years Later

The summer we all turned 18, we decided to leave Palos Verdes, like we had always planned. Sandy, the twins’ mom, was doing so much better now. She had moved back to Michigan and started teaching again. She seemed really happy. They would go visit her at Thanksgiving or Christmas and she’d always ask them to stay. But their lives were here in P.V they weren’t ready to leave just yet. Ava and Phil had a nasty divorce. He cheated on her with one of the nurses, apparently, this wasn’t news to Jim and Medina, as it had happened many times before when he was married to their mom. They were surprised though that he had been faithful this long. Ava kicked him out, but let the twins stay with us, much to his chagrin. He moved into a condo on the beach and we’d see him when we’d go surf and hang out. Adrian had been accepted to college but convinced his parents to let him take a gap year. Phil must have felt so bad about disrupting the twins’ lives in the first place, that he barely needed any convincing on letting them travel the world.

When I sat down and told Ava about our plans, she was hesitant at first. She said we were too young to travel without supervision. But I explained to her that we’re all of age now, and could just leave if wanted to, without permission. She seemed to think it over before saying, “Ok, but you have to call every day and check in. I need to know where you are at all times. Do you understand?” I hugged and kissed her cheek, something I hadn’t done since before Dad died. “Thank you, Mom. I love you.” She was so shocked that tears sprang from her eyes and she hugged me so tight I thought I would suffocate.

The day we left Palos Verdes, we all stood on the rocks, arms around each other and said goodbye to this place. Let the spray from the ocean sprinkle our faces. This was the last time, I’d feel this here. This was the last time this sun would set on my face. We were taking the good memories, like the ones I had of my dad and the laughs the four of us shared together, with us. We were leaving behind the bad memories, like the twins’ parents breaking up and Jim’s drug overdose. That stuff didn’t matter anymore. We had each other, and we were going to look out for one another.

We packed up the van and said our goodbyes to our parents. I sat in the passenger seat as Jim drove. Medina and Adrian played Uno in the back, singing along to the radio. This was as close to perfect as life could get. I was staring out of the window, lost in thought when I felt Jim’s hand enclose around mine. I look over at him and smile. He was so beautiful, and he was mine. All mine. I turn back to the window and I’m reminded of the wish I made for my 17th birthday. It had come true after all. I wanted to leave Palos Verdes and its perfectly manicured lawns and glistening white sands. I wanted to leave this place and be with the people who loved me the most. I wanted to be with him. Just us.

  Taglist:

@lovelykhaleesiii @petersfern-fics @langdonsoceaneyes @katiekitty261@xtheinevitableprophecyx @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonsrapture@langdonsinferno @confettucini @queenie435 @kinlovecody @ghostiesbedroom@floweryshell @itschelseag @flowersirenreads @maso-xchrist @thelangdoncooperative@icylangdon @my-ahs-nightmare @americanhorrorstudies @the–queen-of-hell@trashisawayoflife @mytrash-mylife @ccodyfern @sojournmichael @michaellangdom@hisgirlwonder @winxfred @langdons-rep @langdonsdemon @sassylangdon @napping-is-my-favorite @stupidocupido @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @7-wonders @elangdon4@michaellangdong @khaleesimel @fanfictionrecommendations-com@disappointing-cheesecake @whoviancumberbunny @thedeviltohisangel @jimmlangdon@lvngdvns @lxngdonscoven @duncvn @marvelgal666 @lovemesomeworlddomination @readsalot73 @heda-mikaelson @cvrrigvn @ritualmichael @sweetlangdon @michael-langdon6 @michael-lngdon @yourkingcodyfern @dark-jim

#jim mason #jim mason x female reader #michael langdon #jim mason smut #jim mason fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #fanfic #michael langdon fanfiction #the tribes of palos verdes #topv #smut #fluff

[ilovemybirdy]

When Heartbeats Collide Chapter 1

Kairi, a budding pop star is out of luck when her music producer suddenly has to take a leave of absence. But an up and coming producer by the name of Sora could be just what she needs to finish her album (and spice up her life).

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Chapter 1: A New Partnership

“Click, tap tap, click.” the sounds of my laptop echoed in the small studio room. Often times, I liked to coop up in here whenever inspiration struck; and last night I had been fortunate enough to strike a gold mine of it. I had been re-watching sleeping beauty for the millionth time and upon this particular re-watch the movie had made me think about the implications of love at first sight. Or I guess, in her case love at first sleep. I thought that it might be an interesting metaphor to talk about love from a dream like state of mind or perspective. I wanted to emulate an airy sound and make the listener feel like they were up in the clouds listening to angels.

I had finished the first verse, the chorus, and had settled on doing the song in Bflat minor. As I hummed potential melodies to myself, a sudden knock interrupted my thoughts.

“Come in!” I called. The door clicked open and my assistant Selphie entered.

“Hey Kairi! How’s the song writing going today?” she asked. She gently smiled at me and walked over.

“Well… I’m having trouble thinking of a bridge and a second verse, but other than that I’m making good progress.”

“I’m glad to hear it!” she exclaimed. “I know you’ve been having writer’s block lately, so it’s great you finally un-stuck yourself. Unfortunately, you’ll have to finish working on this later; your meeting starts in 10.” She checked her watch and gave me an apologetic look. I glanced at the time on my phone: 11:50PM. Right on the dot, as Selphie always was.  

“Oh fun,” I groaned. “My favorite part of the month.”

“That’s why I brought you your favorite: iced caramel coffee with a shot of espresso and extra creamer!” I had been so absorbed in my work that I hadn’t yet noticed the coffee in her hand. “I also got you one of those overpriced snack boxes at Papoubucks because I know you forget to eat when you go into these creative frenzies. Seriously! You’ve been in here for hours.” The time had really flown by; we had gotten here around 8 and it was already noon now.

“Thanks Selph. I swear, I don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.”

“Probably starve to death and go into cardiac arrest from caffeine withdrawal.”

We erupted into a fit of giggles at the snide remark. As I took a much, much needed sip of coffee (my insomnia had been particularly bad lately) Selphie helped me pack up my belongings. On the walk to the conference room I began explaining my new song to her.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” she asked.

“Some contenders I have are dreamy, cloud, and maybe rem? You know, the stage of sleep you have dreams in. Or at least that’s what web MD said.”

“I never like looking up medical problems on there, it just always tells me that I have cancer and that I’m going to die or that I’m pregnant,” she chortled. “Out of those names though I think I like rem the best.”

“Selphie, you’re supposed to take the advice from websites like that with a grain of salt.” I giggled, before continuing. “But yeah, I think I’ll go with rem; it has more meaning behind it than the other names.”

“Look sometimes I get curious and can’t resist looking my symptoms up! Anyway, it sounds like you’re making a really sweet love song! It’s a pretty interesting concept too. I’m sure I’ll love it when you’re done with it.”

Our conversation came to a halt as we arrived at the conference room. We took our seats in the black leather chairs, and unpacked our belongings as members of my team arrived. Selphie readied a pen and notebook to record important points from the meeting. Glancing up, I saw my manager Aqua make her entrance. We made eye contact and she smiled warmly at me; I grinned back. She always wore suits, but today she was sporting a slightly more casual outfit: a navy button up shirt tucked into a pair of black jeans. Her black heels clicked on the tiles and I noticed that she had her sleeves rolled up; probably due to the recent heatwaves. Destiny Islands was famous for having the highest temperatures out of all the worlds, especially during summer.

The rest of my team followed suit behind Aqua: Olette (the head of my PR team), Xion (head of my marketing team), and Marluxia (performance coordinator).  Olette was donning a flowing orange sundress with wedge sandals, Xion was wearing a sleek grey suit, and Marluxia was sporting a pink polo shirt with jeans. Aqua briefly scanned the room to make sure all members of my team were accounted for before starting.

“Alright guys let’s get started. I know I want to take my lunch break just as much as you all,” Aqua said. The room filled with soft laughter at the cheeky comment.

“First things first, let’s check in with you Kairi. How much progress have you made on your album since our last update?”

“Well…” I fidgeted with my pen as I skimmed over my notes. “I have about 5 songs that I finished writing lyrics for. I’m in the process of finish a 6thsong right now. How much time do I have left before the album has to be finalized?”

Aqua paused for a moment and glanced at her laptop.

“I met with Mickey, the head of the department and he said he’d like to have it finalized by September so… that gives you about 4 more months. He also said you needed to have at least 10 songs on the album, if not more.”

“That’s cutting a little bit short but as long as I have Pence to help me finish writing it should be okay. Is he going to be back soon?”

“Well… about that. Pence’s younger brother finally found a kidney donor.”

“Really?! That’s great!” I smiled and clasped my hands. They had been waiting for 6 months at this point. I sighed in relief, things would finally be okay for Pence’s family again.

“I know!” Aqua beamed back at me. “However, because of that he’s decided to take a leave of absence to help out his family back in Twilight Town. Which unfortunately means we have no music producer for you for a while.  However, no need to fear manager Aqua is here! I’ve already recruited some local producers to replace Pence in the meantime. If you don’t click with any, I can always look for more candidates, but it would be easier if you chose one of them for convivence’s sake. I’ll email you their resumes and sample songs for you to look over later. I even took the liberty to schedule interviews with them for this evening so we can get the ball rolling ASAP.”

My anxiety began to flare up at the prospect of interviewing strangers. Writing music was such an emotional and personal process for me; not to mention with someone completely new. Pence had helped me write some of my greatest radio hits and I trusted him so much. It was going to be difficult having to go without him this time.

“Thanks, Aqua, I’ll look over them during lunch. When are the interviews?” I responded, trying to mask the shakiness in my voice. I hid my hands under the table as they shook.

“I have 3 candidates; interviews start at 3PM with 30 minute time blocks for each candidate. Don’t worry, you’ll get out of here no later than 5 today. And with that out of the way, let’s move on to the next topic!”

Chatter broke out into the room and I began munching on my snack. Olette and Selphie discussed some modeling opportunity for ‘Destiny’ magazine, but I was barely paying attention. I breathed slowly, trying to calm down from the anxiety eating away at me until Olette interjected.

“Hey Kairi, have you heard of the Radiant Garden Met Gala? Yuffie is one of the fashion designers for this year; I met her at a networking conference last week. Apparently, she’s a big fan of yours and asked if she could have the honor of designing for you!” She pushed a stray hair behind her ear as she beamed at me excitedly.

The Met Gala was one of the biggest annual fashion events throughout all the worlds. While I never really cared for the press at big events, getting dressed up and admiring all of the designer’s hard work was my favorite thing about red carpet events.

“I’d love to attend, Selphie do I have room in my schedule for it?”

“Mmmmm…” she paused as she flipped through her planner, “Yeah! It is cutting it a bit close to your performance for the Island’s summer fest but definitely doable. Olette, can you give me Yuffie’s email so that I can coordinate the consultation and fitting?”

Olette nodded and began typing away at her laptop. Xion then stepped up to show some new merch designs for the team to look over on the projector. Aqua and I approved some, and requested alterations on others for her team to work on. Marluxia and Selphie then discussed some future performance dates. By the time the meeting was finished, my coffee and snack box were no more. Everyone fled out of the room saying their goodbyes quickly, excited for lunch.

“Hey Kairi, what are you in the mood for? Why don’t you go prepare for those interviews while I go pick up lunch?” Selphie asked.

“How about comfort food? Maybe some pad thai from that Asian place on Shinjitsu street?” I desperately needed something to calm my nerves with how on edge I felt.

“Oh, I love their orange chicken! I’ll head out now, be back in a flash! I wanna take a look at those resumes too when I get back. A new producer, how exciting!” she squealed. Grabbing her purse, she dashed out the door. I quickly packed up and headed back to my studio room. Once there, I made myself comfortable at the desk and pulled up my email.

Hey sweetheart!

Here are the 3 candidates I’ve picked out for you: Hayner, Seifer , and Sora. The first two have worked with some of my other artists I manage, and Sora was a recommendation from Xion herself. Apparently, they went to college together and he works with some of her other merchandise clients. As a reminder, interviews start at 3PM! I’ve told them to just meet you in your studio. Good luck and remember to check in with me tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Aqua

Artist Manager at Destiny Island Records

Deciding it was best to just go in order, I clicked on the first file titled ‘hayner.docx’. Previous artists he’d worked with included big names like Yuna and Paine. Yuna was well known for fast paced hip hop EDM songs and Paine did a lot of alternative rock. At least he was multifaceted, but neither genre was exactly my cup of tea. I clicked on the links to the sample songs listed but was only slightly impressed.

Then, I pulled up Seifer’s resume. Apparently, he’d been behind some of the top hits lately; many that I knew and enjoyed. I didn’t even need to take a listen to the samples; I knew the songs already. However, his style didn’t fit the vibe I was trying to go for on this album.  It was way too… club music-y and sexual. Before I even got a chance to look at the last candidate, Selphie waltzed in.

           “Kairi! I’m back!” the plastic bags crinkled loudly as she set them down on the table. She handed me my food and started to dig into hers before barraging me with questions.

           “So, have you looked at the resumes yet? What do you think so far?”

           “I’ve only looked at two. I’m not particularly interested in Hayner and Seifer is a maybe. I haven’t had a chance to look at this ‘Sora’ guy yet though.” I turned my laptop to her.

           “Wow the first two guys seem pretty accomplished! What’s wrong with the Hayner guy?”

           “His style doesn’t really fit with my vision for this album. I’m also not a punk or rock singer.”

           “Oh, I guess that’s true. Why is Seifer a maybe?”

           “I feel like he has a good track record for making hit singles, but that’s the only reason I’m considering him.”

           “You don’t need a producer to make hits! You have some of the best, no, thebest vocals I’ve ever heard. Don’t go with him just because you think he’s the technically correct choice. Why don’t we take a look at the last guy tog-e-herfmmf?”

           “After I finish my lunch. And Selphie, I love you but please don’t talk with your mouth full of food.”

           “Hey!” she pouted, and her face made me burst into a fit of giggles.

           Selphie scarfed down her lunch in 2 minutes while I ate my pad thai at a reasonable pace. She may have looked tiny and ladylike on the outside, but the girl was a monster when it came to food. There was a reason she didn’t do dinner dates on the first date; I’ve never met anyone with a more bottomless stomach than her.

           “Kairiiiii, I’m trying to be patient but you’re taking so long to eat! Can I just start looking at the Sora guy now?”

           I rolled my eyes. “It’s not my fault you eat at the speed of light. Are you sure you’re human?”

           She smacked my shoulder lightly and pouted.

           “Sorry, sorry. Yeah go ahead. Once Selphie had finished skimming the written portion, she played one of the sample songs. The song was soft and gentle, and a beautiful tenor voice sang over it.

           Don’t get me wrong I love you

           But does that mean I have to meet, your father

           When we are older, you’ll understand what I meant when I said no

           I don’t think, life is quite that simple

I was hooked. It was exactly the tone I was looking for with the added bonus of meaningful lyrics. Selphie noticed my eyes widen and sniggered.

           “There’s more sample songs listed, I’m assuming you want to hear the rest?”            “Yes please.” I immediately answered. She giggled once more at my eagerness.

           A sanctuary, my sanctuary, yeah

           Where fears and lies melt away

           Music in time

           I need more affection than you know

           What’s left of me, what’s left of me

The first song had been a bit more upbeat but this one sounded heavenly and dreamy… which is exactly what I had wanted for the song I was working on this morning. I quickly scarfed down the rest of my food before beckoning Selphie to give the laptop back.

           “Quite the eager beaver we have here huh?”

           “Shut up. I just happen to like these samples okay?”

I wiped my hands off on a napkin before scrolling back to the top of the resume. He had only worked with lesser known artists, and only had two years in the industry under his belt. Experience or not, it was obvious the guy was gifted. I absolutely needed to meet this man.

#sokai #fanfiction #au #kairi #sora #kingdom hearts

[themoonkissedexplorer-blog]

Finding My Rhythm!

My nursery school experience is one I do not often talk about,a kid should not be able to recall how their teacher had a psychotic break in the middle of a lesson ,went into coloring a bunch of books in a frenzy while screaming and had to be carried out , I did not feel so terrible though,this was the same teacher who told me not to sing the national anthem during morning assembly as she was lost on where to place my voice, I was too off key.

This blew my one chance of making friends as an awkward kid.I wasn't accepted in the little boys and girls choir club ,and that was pretty much the only thing we had going on in that school.The whole episode about a teacher losing her wits infront of the class did not sit in too well with the parents ,so before I had made any meaningful connections,I was off with my first bag ,crayons and evenly spaced exercise books to another school.This was not just a nursery school,it consisted of a lower and upper primary too.

My adventures were just beginning,I thought it was going to be a lovely rosy experience but this school had the toughest bunch in it,I immediately stood out as I was able to read ,albeit with some difficulties a few english sentences here and there,the cheerfulness I displayed when raising my hands in class did not work on my favor,I learnt that there was a way things were running in this school and I was not being a good fit.My new school mates praised illiteracy,this were young kids who thought life was out of school and were just passing time .

Reading or even speaking a bit of english alienated me further from making any meaningful connection or friendship,I had to acquire a tough exterior somehow while still maintaining my grades to avoid any trouble with the old lady at home.I labored so hard to make new friends but it seems the kids knew right away I was a bit apprehensive.My resolve towards bullies was pretty simple as I had one objective in mind,turn foe into friend,and the process involved giving in to their demands with a smile.

The first encounter was around lunch hour with Jamila ,a girl who should not have been in class one.Jamila towered even over our mathematics teacher ,one could always spot the tremor in Mrs Wanja's voice as she called out Jamila's name while going through the register.Jamila asked for my shoes and socks without flinching ,I knew they did not fit her so that confirmed the suspicion that she could have been having a family outside school or was possibly running a business for second hand wares,I gave lady Jamila the brightest smile ever and proceeded to give her my new shoes and old pair of socks.

Back home my mother was infuriated and also worried about my slothful like nature but this gradually went to rage when I came home without school uniform the second week and the last straw was when I walked back home with a polythene bag holding my books having given out my first bag as well.My mother had had enough ,I could tell from my burning ears after she'd pulled them for so long trying to understand what submissive demon had possessed me into giving out everything she was buying for me,she was also worried I was a bit slow.

I had to toughen up ,luckily my cousin Ibrahim and his friend Baraka joined around the same time.With the two I found company and got a bit of respect around school,but it was not enough ,this was all revealed when Jamila towered over us one day after class ,took all our erasers and books and left.A front of three ,and we still got bullied,it was time to think of concise and effective ways to get some respect around school,but outside Jamila's turf of course.I saw in Baraka and Ibrahim friends but I was an outsider in their friendship bond.When they talked me into after school street fighting,I did not ask why I as a female was the fighter and they,two males were managing me.

So we got to watching indian movies in video cafes to learn a few moves and in a day I was ready to take on the world.The mechanism was simple ,Ibrahim and Baraka would get into trouble with someone,to weasel out of it they would throw in a challenge,a fight, and the prize was just respect .They'd meet me outside my class after school,we would then proceed to the back of the school and I would immediately be thrown in to the ring.The first few fights were peanuts ,I was in the best form,thin and fast and throwing in a few shah ru khan moves here and there I would have my opponent begging for mercy in no time at all.

I became quite popular as a result and in class three I was completely unafraid to raise my hands  in class or speak english , but that was till the day we challenged Atman who had sat on Ibrahim's desk and refused to budge.With growing tenacity ,I walked into Ibrahim's class just before the lesson started and told Atman about the pain that was about to rain down on him.I should have observed Atman clearly I understand that now,Atman like jamila seemed the type of guy or kid as I was unable to discern later who would not be going home to do homework but in a certain degree to solve real life problems like rent,or issues like was the gardening hoe returned by the neighbor,or trouble himself about financial issues and the rising price of a loaf of bread.

 Atman was all muscle,muscles were bulging throughout every visible part of him.It did not last long ,one minute I was holding my fist defiantly the next I was face down in the middle of the desk with my legs up in the air,my promoters had taken off and were nowhere to be seen.I went home looking like I had been fished out of a muddy pond,mom took one look at me and took me off to a private school-yet again,another unsuccessful attempt at making friends.

The private school covered what remained of my upper primary years,I was fast tracking into the puberty phase .I had some vague notions of what a private school would be like ,ideas we had passed around in my former schools while walking home when the big new school buses for private schools with english names printed across carrying all this bright faces would zoom past us.We thought to ourselves that the kids must have been born in big hospitals with fancy doctors and the first stream of words they heard were probably bunch of english words.

Fancy we thought,this were a different type of people who only conversed in this words we see in text books,fascinating!I was thrust into yet another environment that I did not fit in,I remember my new class gasping as I read an english statement with the knowledge of the school I was from,a mish mash of tenses. I rose through the ranks slowly in this new establishment by doing a lot of homework for people but it all paid off as I was chosen to be a head girl,attempt at making friends yet again ineffective because power tends to push people away.

Mother says she was worried about me for quite sometime,I was always colliding with bicycles while going to the shop,losing money,forgetting change,zoning off and creepily staring at people ,and my mouth would go off and say the wrong things in a family reunion like aunty Letifa's late night meetings with the village chief which would come as quite a surprise to her husband.So I treaded on looking for people to fit in with, I did not find that escape in high school as the zoning off and staring into space became a topic and people would allude to me when conversing about characters that were not quite okay in the head,the straw that broke the camels back was when I attempted a dance during the entertainment hour in my third year.

I let the beat completely take over me and started gyrating and convulsing to it,I moved like a white girl they said while laughing so I let dancing become a private affair while showering.I was made to feel awkward all through and it happens to date,but I always celebrated the fact that I was different and I was always convinced that there had to be a breed of people I would fit right in with.I  have felt like a box was being designed for me at each stage and I was expected to fit in.Growing up,I had to explain myself to my peers why I enjoyed reading,but at some point ,books became my only solace,and my adventures were restricted to my wandering imagination.

I went camping recently and a picture was taken of me on top of a tree,I spent the next two days on social media being asked by people what brain malady had overtaken me and made me climb a tree.I was shocked,that even as a twenty six year old I was put on the stand to validate my actions as if it was any ones business.I spent so much time growing up trying to fit in to the idea of normal ,what everybody expected of me ,but at each step I was amiss because I was either not tough enough,my hips were too narrow or my ideas too wild.But I stopped trying to fit in a long time ago,I learnt that life is that big dance floor and as I let go and let the rhythm of life overtake me,no matter how absurd my convulsions and gyrations may seem to others ,when I open my eyes I will find some people close to me.

#africa africanlife lifeinafrica kenya #beach life blacklife roots

[ororowrites]

“42 Reasons” Chadwick x OC: Chapter One

Chadwick x OC 

Hey readers, here is the official first chapter of ‘42 Reasons’. I posted the introduction a couple of weeks ago and it’s linked below. I’m beginning a tag list for this story. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters. 

Taglist: @wakanda-shit-is-that @destinio1 @lavitabella87

Synopsis, Introduction

December 2019

That lunch with Chadwick never happened. Time got away from the two friends once again and they didn’t stay in touch.

Time seemed to fly and December 7th had finally arrived. Holly packed the remaining items she had sorted out on her bed. Her heart rested in her stomach as time ticked by and she waited for the black Cadillac Escalade to pull up in front of her apartment. Nervousness built up inside of her coupled with a bit of doubt. Getting this role was not even about the money for Holly. She needed it for her well being. To build her confidence and allow her to finally breathe again. A role like this would erase all that had happened a few years ago. Maybe it would even set her free from those demons that still ate at her soul. 

The ring of her doorbell interrupted her thoughts and she drug her suitcases to the door. 

“Ms. Wood,” a woman greeted her when she opened the door. “Your car is waiting outside. I’ll help you with these.” 

“Thank you. What’s your name,” Holly asked, extending her hand. 

“Maggie. I’ll be assisting you while you’re in Atlanta during your audition,” the red-head introduced herself, quickly shaking Holly’s hand. 

“Cool. Thanks Maggie,” the actress replied, closing her door and locking the three locks. “Got to get used to leaving for flights this early again.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure it’s all worth it in the end,” Maggie beamed. When the two reached the front door, a driver was waiting for them. He grabbed the two suitcases and placed them in the trunk before shutting the back doors. 

There was no turning back now. Not that Holly planned on it or wanted to. 

Atlanta

Sitting in the conference room surrounded by warm hues of blue and ceiling to floor windows, still didn’t relax Holly’s nerves. Her hands grew clammy as she tapped her manicured nails against the glass table top. 

“Holly Raye Wood,” a voice boomed from the doorway, sending Holly into a scurrying frenzy to stand on her feet. 

“Yes,” she exclaimed with a bit too much enthusiasm. Get a grip, girl. 

“I’m Kevin Feige, President of Marvel Studios. Nice to see you in person,” Kevin introduced himself with a warm smile, calming Holly’s nerves for the most part. “Take a seat and we’ll get started.” The actress took her seat in front of the President’s chair while he poured two cups of coffee. “Cream and sugar, Ms. Wood?” 

“No, I like my coffee black, please,” Holly answered, quickly thinking Kevin would find a double meaning in her answer. Kevin didn’t even seem phased and placed a coffee mug in front of his guest. Thoughts of what happened with her last job still plagued how she auditioned for other roles. Sadly, she had already been blackballed once for being too political and pro-black as the network put it. 

“How was your flight,” Mr. Feige questioned. 

“Great. Very comfortable, thank you,” Holly replied, taking a sip of the hot liquid. Hopefully Kevin didn’t notice the slight shake in her hands. 

“Good, we try to make everyone as comfortable as possible,” he began, pulling a pen from his shirt pocket. “I’m sure you’ve heard that Chadwick Boseman put in a good word for you by now.” 

Hearing that name made her take a deep breath. “Yes, I heard. I’m very grateful for that and hopefully he said all good things about me,” Holly joked. 

“Oh yeah, he did. He spoke highly of you and your work ethic. I must say that you two had amazing chemistry in ‘42′ and that’s one thing that very important for this role. Introducing Storm into the MCU is huge, especially in a Black Panther film. Obviously chemistry is important between whoever plays Ororo Munroe and Chadwick. We hit the nail on the head with Lupita playing Nakia, now we have to take it to the next level. So I’m glad he mentioned you.” 

Holly nodded as she listened to Kevin explain the importance the role. “Storm has always been one of my favorite Marvel characters. I know she is powerful not only because of her abilities but the type of woman she is outside of that. I understand her relationship with T’Challa is one fans have been waiting to see onscreen for awhile. If I had the opportunity to take on the role, you wouldn’t be disappointed. I can promise you that.” 

The President appeared to be impressed and scribbled a few notes in his planner. “Cool,” he smiled, tapping his pen against the notebook.

After the interview and first audition, Holly was allowed to go back to her hotel suite. When she arrived in her room, a large vase of flowers was sitting on the kitchen counter with a note attached. The actress frowned, pulling the note off to read: 

I didn’t forget about our coffee date, Raye. Meet me at the coffee house downstairs at 4pm?-Chad

Holly’s heart seemed to skip a beat when she figured out the person behind her beautiful roses. She pulled out her phone and took a picture of the roses and typed a message to her ex co-star: 

Holly: Thanks for the roses. Hope your ass doesn’t stand me up this time. 🙄 

Chadwick: Don’t be like that. I’m heading over now so I don’t have much of a choice, do I? 🙃

She playfully rolled her eyes at his reply, freshened up and headed downstairs to the coffee shop. Thankfully it wasn’t as crowded as she thought and her anxiety vanish when she spotted her friend in a corner of the shop. That infamous toothy grin was already on full display and there went her heart to her stomach for the second time that week. He looked as handsome as ever. Smooth dark skin, accompanied by broad shoulders and toned arms. The man was fine as hell and only seemed to get finer as he aged. 

Holly shook her head, hoping to loosen some of memories that flooded her brain. Don’t think about those nights, don’t you even do it girl. Memories of his naked body- 

“Raye, Raye,” Chadwick sang, grabbing his old friend’s hand and pulling her into a hug. His body still felt the same. Warm, toned, and like...home. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Holly squealed, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “It’s been forever.” 

“Yeah and it shouldn’t have been. You look good, girl,” he complimented Holly, moving back so he could get a good look at her. “How you been?” 

“I’ve been okay, good times and bad. You know how the business is,” she explained, taking a seat in the opposite booth. “I don’t even need to know how you’ve been, King T’Challa. Congrats on the movie, man. I’m proud of you.” 

One thing Holly always loved about Chadwick was his humbleness. He waved her off with a shy grin, “Thanks. It’s been crazy out here but I’m glad I can at least come in here without doing the Wakanda salute.” 

“Oh, should I have bowed before sitting down,” Holly joked, bending her head. “How rude of me.” 

“If you don’t stop,” he laughed. “But seriously, I’m blessed. It’s definitely been a ride and I’m enjoying it. Enough about me though, what have you been up to?” 

Holly’s face instantly fell but she tried to cover it up with a smile. “Can’t say I’ve been too busy after what happened with my show.” Chadwick nodded sympathetically. He had heard rumors of what happened and how the executives left Holly out to dry. All because she spoke up about how she was being treated as a black woman on a predominately white show. Little did Chadwick know, there were other reasons why the network forced his ex co-star off the show. 

“Sorry to hear about that Raye. These networks can be shitty, but things happen for a reason. Maybe there’s something bigger out there for you,” he said, reaching across the table for Holly’s hand. The tenderness of his touch instantly sent chills throughout her body. Those memories once again rearing a head. 

“I hope so. It hasn’t been the same since and I’m starting to regret getting into this business. Should have taken my ass right back to Howard for grad school,” Holly huffed, staring at their intertwined fingers. “I’m 29 years old and still going at it to only come up short every damn time.” 

“Okay and I’m 42 years old. I’ve been in the business for awhile and people are just now starting to respect my talent. Trust the process. The fact that you’re still trying let’s me know you still want it. And there’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll have a big break. Your dedication and faith will lead the way,” Chadwick comforted Holly, drawing circles around her knuckles with his thumb. “I respect that about you. Hang in there.” 

Her eyes got misty and it was hard to hold back her emotions. The actress had been through hell and back though people only knew about her controversial firing. 

“Hey,” he said softly. “Things will get better.” 

“Thanks,” Holly sniffed. “I needed to hear that.”

“You know I always have your back. Even if we haven’t been as close as we used to be,” Chadwick added, squeezing Holly’s hand slightly. Their eyes connected for a long second before they were interrupted. 

“Hi, Mr. Boseman, can I have your autograph,” a small boy asked, barely able to see over the table. His wide eyes were full of innocence and awe. 

“Hey little man, sure thing,” Chadwick cheesed, reaching down to grab the torn off notebook paper from the boy. “What’s your name?”

“Dontae,” he replied shyly, looking back at his mother who was watching from the coffee shop entrance. 

“Alright, Dontae. Here you go,” the actor wrote a short message and signed his name to the paper. 

“Thank you,” Dontae expressed, a wide smile taking over his small face. Holly couldn’t help but smile at the scene before her. It was truly a beautiful moment. 

“You’re welcome. Wakanda Forever,” Chadwick responded, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Wakanda Forever,” he cheesed, running back to his mother with excitement. “Mommy, he signed it for me!” The young mother waved in Chadwick’s direction before grabbing her son’s hand. Dontae didn’t take his eyes off his favorite Superhero until they were out of sight. 

“Wow. That’s something,” Holly hummed. “You probably made that kid’s day.” 

“You know I’ve always loved the kids, Raye,” he beamed, causing the two friends to burst out in laughter at their inside joke. 

For once, things were looking up for Holly.

Two Months Later 

Auditioning for the role of Storm had taken a lot out of Holly. The process was long and at times rough when she didn’t hear back from Marvel for days. They were finally down to their last three possible Ororo Munroe’s. In all honesty, Holly was afraid she would be beat out for the role. The other two ladies were new to the business without the tag of ‘Angry Black Woman’ attached to them. 

Two months had gone by and she had not heard from anyone about the role. Thinking the worse, Holly tried to forget about the possibility and started thinking about her plan B. Maybe Hollywood wasn’t for her and this was her last sign. 

Pulling out her laptop, she searched for graduate programs at her alma mater. Back to the regular life she went. When she got deep into her search, her cellphone rang from the bedroom. 

“Hey Angie,” she answered, putting the phone on speaker. 

“Holly, I’ve got good news,” Angie piped, barely able to speak clearly. “Congratulations, you’re the new Ororo Munroe. You got the part.” 

Suddenly, time stopped along with Holly’s breathing. “What...what did you say?”

“You’re Storm, Holly. Marvel wants you to play Storm in the MCU,” Angie explained to her shocked client. “I know you worked hard for this. I’m proud of you and I hope you’re ready for this ride. This is huge!” 

“Oh my God,” the actress whispered. “Are you sure I’m not dreaming? They want me to play Storm for real?” 

“White hair and all, Holly. Congrats honey,” Angie added. 

Tears of joy rolled down Holly’s cheeks. “Thank you so much. Thank you.” 

When she hung up from Angie, she opened the text message notification from Chadwick. 

Congrats, my Queen. What did I tell you? Things will get better, right? 😍🙌🏿

“You were right,” Holly muttered, holding her phone to her chest. 

#black panther #black panther fanfics #black panther fandom #fanfics #chadwick boseman #chadwick boseman fanfics #chadwick boseman x oc #chadwick boseman x black oc #king t'challa #ororo munroe #storm

[afjakwritesarchive]

Title: Some Things Never Change (5/5) Pairing: USUK Words: 2,979 Rating: T AU: Human Genre: Romance Summary: After Alfred develops amnesia, Arthur must win back the love of his fiancee while competing with Alfred’s ex-boyfriend, Ivan. A/N: Wow, I’m already finished!! Thank you so so much for supporting this fic and I hope you babes enjoyed it! If you have any feedback, feel free to let me know! <3  Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3  Chapter 4 

To Arthur’s disdain, he had to resume his job two days after bringing Alfred home. As much as he apologized to Alfred, the American insisted that it was alright and that he understood. He reasoned that he would most likely have to get used to saying goodbye to him during the day since at least one of them had to work, but Arthur still considered asking for another week off from his job. He eventually decided against it after it was decided that Matthew would come to check on Alfred every day on his lunch break for the next week or two to make sure all was well.

Thus, Arthur went to work. He spent the majority of the day entirely distracted, unable to think of anything other than his fiancee. He’d never been the clingy type, but it took all of his self-restraint not to constantly text Alfred and check in. He knew that the American was most likely in no danger—the house may be unfamiliar, but there was nothing particularly dangerous within. Alfred was no idiot (although he did seem to lack common sense in some areas) and he could certainly manage on his own. Still, the thought of him being alone in a strange home with nothing to do and nowhere to go tugged at Arthur’s heartstrings.

When he was finally able to leave work, he practically sprinted to his car. He sped out of the parking lot in a hurry, making it home in record time. He rushed up the stairs to their apartment and was about to open the door when he heard Alfred speaking from within. Arthur’s thick brows furrowed. Strange—it was far past Matthew’s lunch break, and Arthur was quite certain Alfred wasn’t in any mood to have guests. Unless… Arthur’s eyes widened and he pressed his ear to the door, listening intently.

Inside, Alfred’s voice was slightly muffled but comprehensible. “Ivan, you know I care about you, I just… Yeah, I know. I know. I miss you too. You know I do!” There was a long pause and then Alfred sighed heavily. “I-I know, I just… We broke up for a reason, didn’t we? Why don’t you just tell me?” Another pause. “I—I don’t know what I want! I barely know him! I just know that he’s been nicer to me in four days than you are—were—most of the time! I feel something when I’m with him. No, no, Ivan, wait—”

Arthur chose this moment to open the door and step inside, hurriedly storming toward the living room. “Alfred?” He asked, his tone somewhat angry.

Alfred looked up and his eyes went wide. “Arthur!” He exclaimed, quickly ending the call and tossing his phone onto the couch. “I-I was just—”

“On the phone with Ivan, talking about how much you miss him.” Arthur deadpanned.

Alfred’s face fell. “I’m just confused,” he replied. “I was in love with him for so long and when I woke up I thought I still was! Ivan and I have been together for so long, I-I—”

“You’re not being fair to me, Alfred.” Arthur interrupted once more. “You have to decide what you want! You can’t have us both!”

“I know that!” Alfred cried, raising his voice to match Arthur’s volume. “You’re the one who's not being fair to me! I don’t even know you! How can you expect me to make a choice like that?! Ivan and I have been together two years, and I’ve known you for four days! I-I don’t remember years of my life, Arthur!”

“You said you wanted to come here and stay with me! This is our house, damn it! I don’t want you calling your exes to tell them how much you miss them—especially not him!” Arthur huffed, growing angrier despite knowing that he should be calming down for Alfred’s sake.

Hurt and pain was written plainly across Alfred’s face. “H-How can you be so mean?! You told me you were going to stand by me no matter what and help me through this!”

“And I will, damn it! But that doesn’t mean I’ll give you my blessing to run off with another man! You and I are together, Alfred! If you give me a goddamned chance and don’t run to Ivan the second you’re alone, I’ll prove to you that we’re a better match than you and him ever were!”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t really seem like it right now!” Alfred yelled back, his eyes becoming glossy.

Arthur threw his hands up in the air. “Oh, that’s not fair at all! If you knew what he’s done to you, you would be on my side!”

“This isn’t about whose side I’m on anymore! Y-You’re mad at me over something I can’t control! How can you expect me to just run back to you when I don’t even know you?!”

“You do know me, damn it! You’re my fiance! It’s reasonable that I don’t want you calling other men!”

“Not when I have amnesia and I’m trying to figure out what the fuck is going on!” Alfred huffed. Tears were spilling from his eyes now and he rushed past Arthur toward the door, leaving the apartment before any more could be said.

The door slammed roughly behind him and Arthur let out a loud huff of frustration. Then, his shoulders slumped as anguish suddenly set in. He turned toward and then fell down upon it, dropping his head into his hands. As he recounted the argument in his head, his eyes burned and his shoulders began to shake with sobs.

God, Alfred had been right. Arthur thought back upon his harsh words to the American and began to cry harder. How could he have ever been so insensitive? Alfred was right—Arthur was sure that he would act similarly were he in the same situation. Alfred was simply looking for any source of familiarity, and Arthur had no right to be upset with him for it. Arthur couldn’t believe how blind, how idiotic, he’d been to treat Alfred in such a way. Not only had he been entirely wrong, but now Alfred’s opinion of him was certainly negative. Alfred would probably go running directly to Ivan, and Arthur wouldn’t blame him.

Arthur turned and laid down on the couch, pulling a pillow into him for comfort. He clung to it and closed his eyes, allowing himself to cry for a moment as he waited for Alfred to return. When they fought like this, Alfred often left for a minute or two, but he always came back after a walk down the block to cool his head. Then, they would be able to talk things through calmly, and Arthur promised himself that he would apologize to Alfred and beg him for forgiveness.

It was only after Arthur had waited ten minutes for Alfred to return that he realized very suddenly that Alfred wasn’t familiar with the area. No wonder he wasn’t back yet—he probably didn’t know where he was. Arthur leapt off the couch and grabbed his phone, dialing Alfred’s number in a frenzy. When he heard the familiar ringtone from beside him, he looked over and noted Alfred’s phone, sitting on the couch and blaring ‘God Save the Queen.’ Arthur’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

Immediately, Arthur rushed out the door to their apartment and down the street. He had no idea where to go—Alfred was rather unpredictable, and he could have gone anywhere. Still, he had to try; if he didn’t find Alfred and something happened, he’d never forgive himself.

Arthur wandered around the area surrounding their apartment for almost ten minutes before finally catching sight of Alfred seated on a bench outside of a cafe, looking down at his lap and fiddling absently with his thumbs. Relieved, Arthur called out his name and ran to him, stopping when he was standing directly in front of him.

Alfred looked up at him with the traces of tear-tracks still clear on his face, his eyes red and puffy. Arthur’s heart drooped and he nearly began to cry again seeing the hurt he’d put the man he loved through.

“Alfred, I’m sorry. You were right, love. I’ll be patient with you, I swear it to you. Whatever you think is necessary, I promise I’ll help you and support you. I love you, Alfred. I don’t want to lose you.”

Alfred stared at him for a moment, shocked. Then, he scooted over on the bench and patted the spot beside him. Arthur sat down beside him and slowly reached out, gently laying his hand over Alfred’s.

“I’m sorry too,” Alfred said, turning his palm over as he took Arthur’s hand in his. “I can’t imagine how hard this has been for you. I need to be fair to you, Arthur.”

Arthur shook his head. “You do, but I also need to be fair to you. It wasn’t right for me to ask you to make a decision like that. I know you need time. If you need to see him or speak to him more to make a decision, I’ll respect that too. But you need to know how much I love you, Alfred. No matter what, I will be here for you, ready to take care of you in every way I can.” Arthur promised, looking him in the eyes as he spoke.

Alfred smiled gently and squeezed his hand. “Thank you,’ he murmured. “I do want to see him again. I need to know why we broke up, and he keeps avoiding it. But… When we kissed, Arthur… I swear, I’ve never felt something like that before. It felt better than I could have ever imagined.”

Arthur looked to Alfred and grinned. “You said the same thing after we kissed for the first time. That you didn’t know it could be so amazing.”

Alfred laughed a bit. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

Arthur smiled and scooted closer. “Mhm, yes, but it’s endearing. Besides, I was the same way—I’ve never felt anything so wonderful as your skin on mine. Every kiss is like the first time.”

Alfred smiled and stood up, pulling Arthur up with him. “Can you take me home?” He asked.

Arthur nodded. “There’s a park over there with a beautiful garden this time of year. Would you mind going the long way?” He asked.

“Sounds nice,” Alfred said. “Do you… D’you mind if I put my arm around you?” He asked carefully, flushed.

“No, dear, not at all.” Arthur said, smiling fondly. He smiled as Alfred tugged him closer and then he felt the familiar, comforting press of the American’s arm across his shoulders. He leaned into him and they walked together, talking quietly to one another.

When they finally arrived home, Alfred smiled softly and tugged Arthur to the couch. “Do you mind if I invite Ivan over tomorrow? We’ll just talk, I swear.”

Arthur felt a pang of hurt in his chest, but he nodded. Alfred needed him to be supportive right now, and he knew that the American deserved answers. “Of course. But I’d like it if he could come over later so that I can speak to him when I’m off work, if that’s alright.”

Alfred nodded. “Alright. I’ll have him come over like an hour before you get here so we can talk about everything, and then you can talk to him.”

Arthur nodded. “Thank you.”

Alfred smiled softly back at him. “Arthur…” He murmured, drawing the Brit closer to him. “I really like you, and I’m sorry to put you through this.”

“Don’t apologize.” Arthur told him gently. “I want this for you, Alfred. I want you to understand as much as you can. It’s only fair that you try to find out what happened in your past, especially with a man you were with for such a long time.”

Alfred smiled gently and then leaned forward, giving Arthur a quick peck to the lips. When he pulled away, his face was red in a way Arthur couldn’t help but to find incredibly endearing. He hadn’t seen Alfred’s shy side in a long time, and it was a sweet reminder of how the American had been when they’d first started dating.

“I’ll make us dinner.” Arthur said, smiling gently and patting Alfred’s knee as he stood.

(LINE BREAK)

Once again, Arthur returned home to the sound of Alfred speaking. This time, though, Alfred’s voice was accompanied by another familiar one—that of Ivan.

Ivan was speaking loudly, clearly angry. Arthur was also sure he was hearing sniffling, as though Alfred was crying.

“I-I just don’t understand! Why would I—I-I would never do something like that! I know I wouldn’t! I would never cheat, no matter what!” Alfred cried, his voice watery. Arthur suspicions were confirmed—he was crying.

“But you did,” Ivan hissed angrily. “It’s in the past, Alfred. I’m willing to forgive you, but only if you leave Arthur and come stay with me instead.”

“I—I can’t make a decision like that right now!” Alfred cried.

Arthur’s chest burned with anger. He could hardly believe what he was hearing! Ivan was blatantly lying to Alfred! Not only that, but he was pressuring the American in a moment of weakness. It was despicable.

“You made the decision to come here and stay with him, didn’t you? Is there something you’re not telling me, Alfred? If you’re willing to sacrifice everything we had for a man you hardly know, then tell me now so I don’t waste my time.” Ivan snarled angrily.

“You’re—You’re not giving me a chance to fucking think!” Alfred cried angrily. “I don’t know, Ivan, I just wanted to know why we broke up!”

“We broke up because you made a shitty decision. Tell me now, Alfred: do you have feelings for Arthur?”

There was a pause for a moment. Then, Alfred spoke. “Yes, alright?! He’s nice and romantic and he says things you would never say to me! He’s treated me better in four days than you treated me the whole time we were together!”

“Fine, then you can stay with him! But when all the sweet words disappear and you’re left with a man you don’t love, don’t come crying to me. I won’t be there to pick up the pieces. You left me for someone else once—I’m not going to let you do it again.”

At this, Arthur could no longer stop himself. He burst into the house and stormed angrily into the living room, advancing on Ivan and landing a punch to his jaw before anything could be said. Ivan let out a cry of shock and stumbled back.

“Arthur!” Alfred cried loudly, gaping in shock.

Arthur looked to Alfred and the sight of tears on his face only enraged him further. He turned to Ivan. “You lying bastard! Don’t you ever accuse Alfred of cheating on you! We both know what really happened between you! If you ever—and I mean ever—make Alfred cry again after all that you’ve put him through, you’ll get a lot worse than a sore jaw!”

Ivan was standing, wide-eyed and gaping, with a hand to his face. His cheeks were colored with shame, as though embarrassed to have been caught. “I-I—”

“No, now I get to speak.” Arthur whirled around to face his fiancee. “Alfred, you didn’t cheat on Ivan; he cheated on you. He’s lying to guilt trip you, like he always did. Not only have I heard far too many stories about his despicable behavior, but I’ve seen it more than once. Calling and texting you all hours of the day and night, threatening Matthew and I, trying to get your mutual friends to talk to you on his behalf. It was only after Katyusha and Natalia intervened that he stopped! And then he walks back into your life as though he cares so much—has he told you yet that he hadn’t seen you for three years prior to your hospitalization?”

Alfred looked to Ivan with his eyes widened in horror. “I-Is that true, Ivan?” He asked shakily.

Ivan looked down, remaining silent. Then, he leaned down and took his coat from the couch. “I think I should go.” He muttered.

Arthur folded his arms across his chest and glared darkly. “Damn right it is.”

Alfred and Arthur stood silently as Ivan left, waiting until he’d left to speak.

“...Thanks.” Alfred said gently.

Arthur looked to him and nodded. “I—I’m sorry I got upset and intervened. He was lying to your face, Alfred, and I couldn’t stand hearing him treat you that way.”

Alfred came forward and took Arthur’s hand in his. “Does it hurt?” He asked worriedly.

“No, don’t worry.” Arthur murmured, looking up to Alfred softly. “Are you alright?”

“I am now.”

“I hope you don’t think worse of me now. I don’t usually hit people, I swear. That man invokes a special sort of anger within me.”

Alfred laughed some. “No, I don’t think worse of you. Seeing you do that just reassured me that I made the right choice in coming to stay with you. Ivan would have never defended me like that. I should’ve known he’d lie—he always did.”

Arthur reached for his hand and Alfred took it. “I’m sorry.” Arthur said softly.

“Don’t be. I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Arthur felt warmth blossom in his chest and he couldn’t help but to grin. With Alfred close and Ivan out of the picture, he knew they could endure anything. Even if Alfred never recovered his memory, they would move forward together, stronger than ever.

So, when Alfred tugged Arthur closer and kissed him, Arthur gladly reciprocated and flung his arms around the American’s neck, kissing him happily. And when two weeks passed and Alfred woke on a Saturday morning with his memory returned to him, Arthur could only kiss him in giddy excitement.

#mine #text #usuk #aph #hetalia fic #usuk fic #aph england #aph america #aph fic #aph america fic #aph england fic #hetalia usuk #my writing

[sitavnabi]

How I Saved $10000 in 10 Months

I’m not a saver by birth. I like to spend money. I view money as only one type of currency, not the most valuable one. Time comes first in the ranks, followed by energy, and then comes money. Money is not and has never been particularly valuable to me. It rarely ever brought me happiness but I was convinced while growing up that my net worth was a reflection of my self worth.

I never liked the idea of being frugal. I didn’t enjoy having to go without to prepare for a future emergency. For the last three years I have made a pretty consistent yearly amount through tutoring, babysitting, administrative tasks, and other similar odd jobs. But, I lived like I made a lot more. I wasn’t spending on luxuries and going out. I was just spending more than I had on things that I needed, or seemed to need. I became increasingly worried about not having enough money.

The fear of not having enough money, instilled into me at such a young age added to this terror churning inside me. I went to bed and woke up in frenzy of overwhelming nausea and tears.

But one day, after a particularly bad incident with a client, I decided that enough was enough. This particular client generously offered to pay my semester tuition in full in exchange for unlimited tutoring. Eternally grateful, I accepted. This client proceeded to give me the run around for four weeks and on the final day, had me drive over 30 miles from town to town chasing her for the check. After a grueling three hours, she called to let me know that she was in the hospital and her husband never agreed to give me the money.

I was embarrassed, humiliated, exhausted, spent, and so ashamed of myself for letting this person take advantage of me and exploit my needs. It was in that moment that I decided to stop letting money have any hold on me whatsoever. I was going to manage my money; it was not going to manage me.

I joined Frugal Families on Facebook and gathered several books to help me. I read Ana Newell Jones, Amy Dacyzyn, and Dave Ramsey among countless others. (I don’t necessarily recommend this but I like to read so it was a win win) You can get similar information by watching Youtube videos or short articles.

Through all my collectives, I found that managing finances and saving money comes down to a pretty simple idea: don’t spend money. But, my problem, along with many people, isn’t that I didn’t know HOW to save money, but that I couldn’t convince myself of WHY.

My thinking of money was all screwed up! I associated saving with withholding, going without, deprivation, dependence, poverty, and unhappiness. I held money in the top tier of my self esteem and felt that I needed it to prove to people that they should respect me. Putting $1000 in the bank and not touching it is infinitely easier than learning to love yourself if you don’t already. Once your self esteem has been tied into how much money you spend, its a tough knot to untangle.

So, I took these baby steps ( to all my Dave Ramsey fans out there). It took me a couple months to compile all these steps and even longer to start to truly follow all of them. I am 23 years old, I make about 24K a year, I am a part time college student, and I don’t have any kids or dependents. A lot of people may be discouraged from reading this article because maybe I don’t fit their demographic, make more or less, have fewer expenses or some other excuse. They may be right. I don’t know how well these steps may work for other people and I definitely cannot guarantee any results. It’s just a look into my own experience. But, if you want to break the ball and chain of money has around your ankle or maybe even save up $10000, grab a notebook and at least give this a try!

1.

Remove people from your life that you feel value money too much. These people are easy to identify: who in your life do you feel judges you the most? Limit contact with these people for a set period of time (maybe forever), or just until you save $10000. These people breed thoughts of inadequacy and manipulate us into spending money we don't need and becoming people we don't want to be, i.e. a woman in the Tightwad Gazette who admitted that she spent more money on her wealthy nephew’s Christmas presents than her own children.

2. 

Write down your goals, hopes and dreams (not financial goals). What kind of person are you now and what do you hope will change after you become financially stable? Where do you see yourself in ten years? What would you do if you had a million dollars? What are some things about your life that you wish you could change? Why can’t you? What are aspects of life that you are grateful for? What is your dream career? What are some of your insecurities and fears? Ask yourself all these questions and any more you can think of. This should be a private journal entry that you can look back to so, be as open as you can for yourself.

3.

Write down your financial goals. How much money do you want to save? My goal was $20,000.

4.

Analyze your spending. Print out the last few months of your bank statements. Make a list. In and out. What went into the bank account and what went out. This is on the bottom of every monthly statement.

5. 

Categorize all the items that went “out”. I use a pretty simple system for this: necessary and not necessary. Rent, car payments, gas, and doctors are needs. Mcdonald’s, make up, even buying books instead of borrowing them are not necessary. Be careful not to categorize non necessities as “wants”. This implies a careless decision was made and that we should feel bad or embarrassed about it. Our money is ours and we may choose to spend it however we wish. Remember that we want to feel more confident in our decisions through this process.

6.

Evaluate your needs list. Obviously rent and car payments can’t be negotiated down but if all your needs eat up more than half your income, see if anything can change. In my personal example, I had a car payment of $198/month. During the summer months, when babysitting jobs were scarce, I only made about $900/month. Coupled with rent, I had $100 left over every month to survive on. The solution was not easy, short term, or inexpensive. I had to buy a used car and get rid of my lease, find another side gig for the summer, or find a cheaper place to stay.

7.

Evaluate your non necessities list.Create a category for every expense (eating out, crafts, shopping, subscriptions) and then prioritize them in order of used. If you spent $300 this month on books, it goes to the top of the list. Next, think about what you could and couldnt live without. Put those in order too. Note: this does not mean cutting everything out. Think about what is important to you and what can change. Just because something isnt a basic need, does not mean it is not important. For me, going out with friends, and a small budget to grab some fast food if I was still hungry after lunch meant a lot. So those went to the top of my list.

8.

For future reference, I recommend using a debit card as cash to be able to track all your purchases. So this baby step is get a debit card at a bank that is near you with a safe and convenient ATM. Commit to putting cash onto the card in small amounts to avoid temptation, but often, like once a week. I never keep more than $50 available on my debit card at any time. I have worked my weekly amount down to just $15, just enough to eat out twice a week.

9.

PAY DAY. If you are like me and don’t have a regular deposit schedule, make one and keep to it. Be flexible about how often and how much you want to see your money grow. I tried a bi-weekly deposit schedule but learned that I prefer looking at how much I made at the end of the week. So, I deposit money into my account every Friday.

10.

You have money, now what do you do with it?? Consult your needs list and put aside the amount that you cannot change this month. Pay your bills immediately. 

11.

What is left over? Budget your non-necessities and leave that in your account. Take whatever is left and shove it into your savings account.

12.

Reconsider your budget. This is the part when you slowly trick your brain into enjoying frugality. Remember that amount that you shoved into savings? No you don’t! Next month, create your budget without that chunk of savings, so immediately after payday, shove it into your savings account after bills and before non-necessities. Don’t be discouraged if you have to touch your savings account because you went over budget. Just try to average out the same amount for 3-4 months. Also, even $5 is a hefty deposit amount if you’ve been picking away at your account for the past 6 months. Be proud of yourself for any and all progress!

This last step was very helpful to me because it helped me become more and more creative about how to live on less. I learned to prioritize my hobbies, treated myself sparingly, and invest time I had in place of money I didn’t have. Overall, I became much happier than I was.

Another tip, I’d like to include is to be kinder to yourself. In hindsight it is easy to look at my expenses and realize I could’ve put a little more away here and there but I have no regrets about the mistakes I have made. Step 4 was arguably the hardest thing I’ve had to do in my life; analyze my mistakes and have compassion for myself. Even going forward, the continued slip ups I had taught me more about myself and helped me to make better decisions the next time.

I know this article seemingly boils down to taking a portion of your income and putting it into a savings account. But quite honestly, it has nothing to do with money. I have calculated that I could have put an extra $5000 away in the last ten months if I had really stuck to my needs, but that wasn’t the point. I wanted to live a life without the fear of money: not having enough, always wanting more. I was afraid to check my bank balance and I couldn’t resist a great sale that added to my net worth. Since I started my journey to financial stability, I don’t worry as much about what I have. That isn’t because I have a lot, but because I always know exactly what I had and I am confident about my ability to work with it.  It shifted my mentality of depending on money to take care of me to realizing that only I am responsible and capable of taking care of myself and money is just one of many tools that can help me. Break the chain!

[losbella]