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sashi-ya · 7 months

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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 21: FEAR PLAY Äs Nödt x F! Reader

Requested by: @muzans-stuff ➡ Hello If it's okay I'd like to participate in the kinktober event. I'm an AFAB with pronouns of she/her. I choose Äs Nödt with these following kinks: Dom/sub, impregnation ,humiliation ,CNC and ESPECIALLY fear play. thank you ♥️ ➡ i'm sorry for the delay my love, but here it is finally! hope you enjoy :3 tw: MDNI. In any case I am saying being admitted to a psychiatric hospital is scary, however being dragged to a place like that without being informed... CNC (rape/forced to mentions. be extremely careful). fear play. rough sex. humiliation. kinda dominant as (duh). slapping. humiliation. and everything dark. wc: 1,3kmasterlist

Eyes wide open, mouth covered. Boney hands, a chill running through your spine. “You are mine…” “Am I?”

White cold flickering lights, padded walls… why is everything so empty? Why does it look like a mental hospital room?

Your back pressed against the wall; it doesn’t hurt, it’s soft and secure. But your legs are shaking, you even feel like peeing yourself.

“Äs… what are we doing here?” you ask, with trembling voice and watery eyes. “Shut up…” he whispers, with low raspy voice that’s both terrifying and sexy.

You swallow, blinking fast enough for a single tear to finally fall from your eye. You try to search for an exit, perhaps the door. When have he taken you here? was it while sleeping? The last thing you remember was feeling dizzy and sleepy during dinner with the Sternritters.

When your eyes finally devise what it might look like a door, you take a deep breath and decide to run towards it. You love Äs, in a sick twisted way… but you are also scared… and there are still, maybe, boundaries you aren’t ready to take. Or are you?

As you move your foot, he approaches you violently. One of his hands cover your mouth, while the other pushes you from your lower belly against the padded wall. You can’t move a single muscle, you feel your blood turning cold, as if you were instilled with a poison right in your veins.

“Do not search for an exit. Haven’t I tell you already that you are mine?” he grunts, with his tiny nose pressed against your cheek but still wearing his black mask over it.

You try to deny with your eyes, as he is pressing your head so hard against the wall. He seems to be losing control, as if your fear fed something feral inside of him…

“Stop crying. Stop crying. Stop crying!” he suddenly screams, when your tears become profuse and wet the back of his pale hand. The veins on it become swollen, and his muscles tense more and more.

You can’t help it; you can’t stop crying.

His black pointy nails carve in your cheeks, as he shakes your face and then pushes you to the ground in a swift and violent motion.

Your knees carve in the padded floor. And somehow you begin to see the situation as a dark metaphor for the love you both hold for the other; it’s humiliating, it’s painful… but it’s pure white, and it doesn’t really hurt… it’s sick, but it’s healing.

You turn to look at him, his black boots, his black hair, and black eyes contrast with the white around as he walks to you. He does it slowly, but it is terrifying.

Äs looks at you from the side, as he tilts his neck to the right. His silky long hair falls like an onyx downpour on his frame. “You are pathetic” he growls, but you get the impression he is smiling under his mask as his eyes get squinted and the black orb takes over the whole socket.

Your white uniform has been slightly tore, but you don’t even remember when it happened. Nor you realize his heavy boot is now over your chest. Time seems to pass either too slow, or too fast… you feel like missing parts of reality… have you been drugged? Or is it Äs’s power? Is it the F supposed to be used this way?

“Will you hurt me?” you ask him, still crying. “Oh no… it is yourself who will if you don’t comply to my orders” he says, using his foot to spread your legs.

You soon realize that what he is meaning to do is not killing you… but fucking you. He is not willing to hear a “no” as a response, that’s why he isn’t even asking. You are, however, afraid of his words… knowing that he has the means to make you hurt yourself, makes you tremble.

You begin crawling back, you are sweating cold, you get tunnel vision having him to be the only image in the centre of your sight.

In a blink of an eye, he is already pinning you against the floor. Äs is topping you, with his long hair tickling your cheeks and the mask barely separating your lips from his.

His body feels like a bag of bones, a characteristic you have always loved about him. You enjoyed the way his hipbones protruded through the long white cover of his uniform, and always wished to be able to see his collar bones... well, now you will.

His hand slides down until your leg, lifting it up until his waist. Your skirt, that’s probably falling off by now, will allow him to have easy access to your core.

You are terrified and confused.

You aren’t sure if you want it or not, but the way his erection feels against your core fans the flame of need and yet of fright. And the more he grazes his hardness against you, the more you cry; this time, uncontrollably sobbing but with bucking up hips searching for more. What a beautiful yet painful dichotomy.

“You are such a slut, crying because you don’t want to get fucked but still rubbing yourself against me” he growls, searching with his bony hand for your panties to rip them off.

You catch a glimpse of logic and begin fighting -or trying to look like you are- to get him off of you. Deep inside, the more you want him to force you, the more that turns you on.

Ripped your underwear, his hand is now grabbing yours by the wrist above your head. “Stay still, bitch. You are getting that hole raped by me because… YOU. ARE. MINE”

You squirm under his firm touch. He might look like he is weak, but he is stronger than you in every way.

With his free hand, he slaps your face and then takes off his mask. For the first time you discover how his façade looks and you are beyond pleased. He is beautiful; pale, chapped lips, sick looking eyes but still full of a strong desire to live.

“Stop crying, you are not making me stop… come on” he whispers, now with his lips playfully grazing yours.

You sniff, trying to obey, trembling in fear but also in need. You feel his hand going down, while his dress like clothes go up. You get a glimpse of his pale, almost white abs. There is not a single gram of fat on his abs, and you discover that he is indeed way thinner than what you thought he was.

While his flesh is generally cold, his sex isn’t. You can sense the throbbing warmth reaching your slippery entrance.

“Even if I am forcing my dick in you, you are still so wet…” he moans, attacking your lips afterwards and impaling you with no mercy.

You arch your back, mewling in his mouth. But he won’t let you breathe any other air that the one coming from his own lungs.

Äs fucks you excessively rough, making you sure you aren’t able to escape from his claws, leaving you at his complete mercy… with your head spinning, and your legs losing their total strength.

He enjoys your clenching walls, your milking insides, slapping you once in a while. Sometimes he even stays inside you for some seconds, to show you how much you want him to keep ramming into you.

“You were crying and kicking before, and now you want more of my dick? Don’t you see how much of a needy whore you are? Why don’t you become my cum dump too? Let me get you pregnant, so that everybody knows you are only mine”

You widen your eyes; humiliated, asking for more of his dick, pleading with tears for your womb to be filled with his semen… forced to get pregnant by him.

Do it, Äs… After all, you have become crazy… stupidly psychiatric for him…

taglist: @miabiaria @carmenthedreamer @stygianoir @electronicwitchcollection @aizenwifey @deputy-videogamer @efrodd17 @mizugami @uzxotic @cyberdazetragedy @bookandyarndragon @fushiguroshotwife 💖

#as nodt #as nodt x reader #as nodt bleach #bleach #bleach fanfic #bleach x reader #bleach anime #bleach imagines #bleach fanfiction #bleach fanart #as nodt fan fic #as nodt fan fiction #sashi ya #bleach quincy #kinktober #kinktober 23 #kinktober 2023

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

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You’re Wet, You’re Naked

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: Here’s Part 3 of Charlie spending a hot smutty night with his biggest fan Y/N! This fic is also my next entry for @band–psycho’s Bingo Challenge! In this Part 3, now that Charlie has read some of the smut that you’ve written about him... you’ll get to reenact those filthy fantasies with him 😜

Pairing: Charlie Hunnam x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, teasing, punishment, spanking, dom!Charlie Request: This anon request + separate request from @rayslittlekitten (Charlie reading smutty fanfics) Bingo Square Filled: Losing a bet

Word Count: 2.9k

… Continued from Part 2 [Read Here]

Charlie Hunnam is having entirely too much fun scrolling through your whole collection of sin.

And he’s still convinced that he’s going to win. He’s determined. Thinks that if he digs deep enough, into some of the dirtiest stuff, he’ll find some kind of content that will make you die of embarrassment.

“Hmm, apparently this Miss ‘Y/N’ is a glutton for punishment...” he remarks, noting that it’s a theme in a lot of your works. Pronouncing ‘Y/N’ like ‘Wyenne’ as if she’s a real woman.

“Well, Miss ‘Y/N’ won’t tolerate that tone of judgment, Mr. Hunnam. She loves getting spanked and has no fucking shame,” you huff, acting all confident and tough. “And you do know that those letters stand for ‘your name’?”

“Yeah, I’m getting a sense of the whole reader-insert thing. But who ever said I was judging?”

“That smirk on your stupidly beautiful face, for one thing.”

“Hey, listen—if I’m gonna judge Miss ‘Y/N’ for anything...” he taunts, as he skims through the first piece of fiction that you’d ever written about his character from The Gentlemen, Raymond, “...it’s the fact that she’s apparently obsessed with being called a filthy little cunt.”

... Oh no. You suddenly feel like a damn tomato, which is exactly what Sir Hunnam wants.

He’s basically just won; you should’ve known to never doubt him. Your desire for this man to call you ‘cunt’ is really not even the kinkiest of kinks you have about him—no, not even close—but somehow it just feels embarrassing as fuck and he just knows.

“What’s the matter darling? Thought you’re proud of all your kinks.”

“I am, but—”

“Mmm, but what?” he sneers, pulling you near, lips brushing up against your ear. “You’re getting all bothered and hot. Did I just hit the fucking jackpot? Tell me, slut.”

“You’ll never get me to admit embarrassment, if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, but I always get what I want,�� he goads you on, as all your walls start crumbling down. He’s won, without a doubt. “So stop fucking around. ‘Cause if I can’t win a confession from this pretty little mouth... guess I’ll just have to win it from your naughty little cunt.”

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

Conveniently, the limousine ride is now done, and Charlie Fucking Hunnam takes you up to his hotel room for a night of filthy fun. There’s a special private entrance for celebrities to make sure that you won’t be seen by anyone. He literally sweeps you off your feet, like it’s your damn wedding or something as he whisks you to his swanky penthouse suite.

Apparently he’s feeling quite inspired and has a raging erection, from the smut that he just read from your collection, which was straight up pornographic. It’s clear that he intends to bring those fantasies to life and work his magic.

By the time you stumble through the door, you’re moaning like a whore, and ready to go at it. “But Charlie, we—we can’t reenact that fic...”

“Why the hell not, you little slut? I thought it’s what you’d want...” he grunts, as you both tumble down onto the mattress. Your skin and his are separated only by a few layers of fabric. He’s planning to act out the fic about Raymond dishing out smutty punishment, now that he knows just what a slut you are for spanking and for being called a cunt. His dirty talk is such a drug and you’re an addict.

“Because in that fic ‘Y/N’ never gets to suck on her man’s dick.”

Charlie’s suit-clad physique is pressed against your dress so that you can feel every perfect inch of him. “...And that’s a problem?”

It’s no secret how badly you want him. “I’ve only been dreaming about your big cock in my mouth every night of my life, Mr. Hunnam.”

Those words off your lips fucking fire him up, as the dominant side of him starts to erupt. With a growl he lifts off of your body and stands at the foot of the bed, removing his suit jacket. Looking down at your body as if it’s an object for him to corrupt. Made for him to attack it.

“Why don’t you get down on the floor, you dirty little whore,” he says, watching as you eagerly obey. Your butt is burning up with the need for this sex god to smack it. “That’s it, on all fours. Hands and knees. With that pretty ass facing towards me.”

This is so much like the setup for your fic with Raymond Smith and you have never been so horny. Pussy soaking so intensely as you relive what you wrote in your own stories. Charlie’s hardly gotten started, and already you are probably dripping through your panties all across the carpet, sorry you’re not even sorry.

Of course he loves to see you following his orders in a hurry. Pours on praise that has your senses going blurry. “Such a perfect little slut for me...”

You whimper in submission, as you get into position. You are in literal heaven—except for the fact that from this angle you can’t witness his perfection. Of course you try to turn your head in his direction; thankfully he makes it easier by moving now to stand in front of you so you can look up at his magnificent face and his massive fucking erection.

He then begins unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his pants, and you are filled with the most all-consuming need��you’ve ever felt, utterly hypnotized with every move of his masterful hands. The thought of laying eyes on his cock has you in a trance. And maybe more than just your loving gaze—maybe you’ll get a fucking taste, if he commands...

This isn’t how your Raymond fic began, the fic that led Charlie to win your little bet. He’ll get back into it again. But just for now he’d rather go off-script instead. He’s focused on that thing you said, when you were spread beneath him on the bed. How you’ve been wanting for so long to give him head.

“So you’ve been dreaming of this big cock in that slutty mouth of yours?” he teases, as his right hand reaches in his pants and squeezes. “Just how badly do you want it, whore?”

“Sir, there is nothing I want more...” you breathlessly implore.

“It’s everything you live for? Everything you’ve ever dreamed?”

All you can do is nod, submitting to this god, desperately kneeling. By now you’re thirsting to the absolute extreme and bursting at the seams. Your mind is reeling. Here you are at the mercy of Sir Charlie Hunnam, and damn, there is no better feeling.

“Mmm, well maybe it’s time to stop dreaming...” he declares, destroying you with his stare, blue eyes gleaming, promising you hell and heaven and taking you there, “...‘cause baby, you’re about to get the real thing.”

And so you are. When Charlie finally whips out his perfect cock, so long and thick and pink and hard as a damn rock... you die of shock. You’re seeing stars. The piece of meat throbbing in front of you is beautiful as fuck. This is hands down the greatest moment of your life so far. You can’t believe your luck.

“What’re you waiting for, you filthy whore?” he quips, wrapping his fist around his shaft and slowly guiding it toward your thirsty lips. “Now open up that pretty mouth of yours and suck.”

Never have you obeyed an order any faster. You could seriously spend your whole life servicing your master. Swirling your tongue around the tip, eyes rolling back into your skull, in pleasure as you savor the flavor of his arousal, wrapping your lips around his thick girth in an act of total worship, taking him deeper down your throat than you’d have thought physically possible.

Admiring the view, Charlie smirks devilishly down at you, the evil fucking bastard. You both groan in satisfaction, getting off on your reactions. He knows that he is your whole world. That you’d do anything to serve him as his dirty little girl.

“Mmm yeah, right there...” he snarls, twining his fingers in your hair, the husky rumble of his voice making your toes curl. On the next upstroke you pull back to tease your tongue around the pink tip with a playful little twirl, then quickly seal your lips around his length again to take him deeper than you’ve ever fucking dared. Gorging yourself on his enormous, gorgeous cock. And all the while your eyes are locked. “Ughh holy fuck—right fucking there...”

At this rate his gigantic dick will probably break your jaw and you don’t even fucking care.

Reading your mind, he swiftly strips out of his shirt, so you can look upon his sculpted upper body which is honestly divine, so goddamn beautiful it hurts. The sight of Charlie Fucking Hunnam’s chiseled muscles just intensifies your thirst. You love him so much you could die, expressing that as passionately as you can with every movement of your mouth as you kneel down between his thighs, gaze up at him with wide unblinking eyes. Completely motherfucking mesmerized.

“My God, you’re perfect...” Charlie moans as you continue with your service. Clearly loves the way you’re worshiping his dick just like a good little slut should. “So good... so fucking good...”

He’s buried deep inside your throat, and from the luscious way he pulsates on your tongue you know he’s ready to explode. Reaching around to grab his ass, taking those firm muscular globes within your grasp, you make sure that he stays in place and wordlessly beg him to feed you with his load.

“Mmm...” he hums, smiling suggestively as he caresses your cheek with a smooth sweep of his thumb, “...does my perfect little cockslut want some cum?”

Even if you could talk, even if your mouth weren’t so stuffed full of his cock, you’d be struck dumb.

“Wait just a few more seconds,” Charlie taunts, “and let me fuck this pretty face of yours, you dirty fucking whore. Why don’t you reach down and play with your cunt. Touch yourself till that sweet pussy squirts out all over the floor.”

Oh holy fuck—before you can even process what he just said, he grabs a firm hold of your head, and starts to ferociously hammer your mouth with his huge rock hard cock. He’s thrusting so fast you can’t even keep the pace to slurp and suck. You didn’t think your throat could take him any further, but he shows you just how wrong you were.

And it’s all that you can do to follow orders, reaching up your dress and into your panties to rub your pussy while he furiously face-fucks you like bloody fucking murder.

Given what this man is doing to your face, pounding you into a submissive haze... all it takes is a few flicks of your fingers on your clit to cause you to start cumming all over the place. In all your days, until today you didn’t know you were a squirter.

“That’s a good little cunt,” he grunts, taking such pleasure in what he just witnessed, that suddenly he himself reaches his finish. Shoots his sweet creamy load down your throat as you swallow down every drop of it like nobody’s business. So fucking delicious. “Mmm, is this what you want? Yeah, know it is. Take that cum while you sit there all soaked in your juices.”

His dirty talk is fucking ruthless. Gets off on the fact that he just made you do this. Once he finally slips out of your mouth you attempt to thank him for the privilege, of serving as his little cock-sucking bitch, but your cum-slathered tongue has become absolutely useless.

That mind-blowing session of sucking his dick... you can’t believe that that just happened. It was so far beyond anything that you’d ever imagined, ever written in your fics.

Speaking of which—you know that he still plans to finish what he’d started with that fic about the punishment, and calling you a cunt. Even though you just came the thought of that already makes your pussy twitch. It’s everything you want.

He doesn’t waste a second, getting you into position for another round of wrecking. Lifting you up off of the floor to throw you down onto the sumptuous king bed. Recalling those words he had said, during his talk show interview—wet and naked—two words that had inevitably made him think of you.

Now that he has you in his bed, he can do literally anything he wants to do. “So you’re already plenty wet... I think it’s time we get you naked.”

Charlie is handling you like a goddamn rag doll and you cannot fucking take it. Somehow every move he makes is carefully steady and soft, even when he’s terribly rough. You don’t know how he manages to make you feel like your whole body is a precious treasure even as he breaks it. Makes you feel more alive than ever and yet... super fucking dead.

“How much do you fancy this pretty little dress, princess?” he asks, reaching beneath the cloth to grope your ass, as he hovers above you on the bed. “Would it be alright if I just... rip it to shreds?”

“God, yes...” you gasp, melting into the mattress, as he takes a fistful of the fabric in his grasp. And does exactly as he said he would. The sensation of your dress getting savagely torn to pieces feels ridiculously good.

Your bra and panties follow afterwards. Leaving you naked like a whore, exposing your glistening core. Charlie looks down at it with such insatiable thirst. “You know I’m gonna spend the whole damn night eating this sweet pussy of yours...” he purrs, which sounds like such a blessing and a curse—you can already tell that he’ll be edging you to death and telling you to keep yourself from cumming till you fucking burst. “But first—”

He suddenly flips you over, grabbing hold of your shoulders, and repositioning your body on all fours.

It’s finally time to reenact that fic of course.

“First I’m gonna have to punish you for being such a filthy fucking cunt,” he sneers, sinful lips pressed against your ear. “For writing all that smutty fiction, all those pornographic words. These kinky fantasies about me that made you cringe in embarrassment. I’m gonna have to spank this naughty little ass until it hurts.”

“Yes, sir...” you yelp, your inner slut unable to be helped, trembling in pleasure.

He’s leaning over you now from behind, blowing your mind. “Now is that what you want? Are you done fucking around, cunt?”

“Yes, sir...!” again you answer, powerless to say anything else before your master.

“That’s a good slut,” he mutters as he slides his palm across the bare skin of your butt. “You gonna be my perfect little whore? Take everything I have in store, and beg for more?”

Before you can even say ‘yes sir’ yet again... the punishment begins.

Sir Charlie Hunnam doesn’t need you to respond, to know that this shit is exactly what you want. You scream in ecstasy, fulfilling all your fantasies, each time his hand comes down. Don’t even bother keeping count. You lose all sense of your sanity, and your whole fucking identity, here in the presence of someone so unimaginably dominant.

“That’s it, cunt. Take your punishment,” he taunts, his words and actions straight out of the smut that you had written about Raymond. Spanks you raw until your skin is fucking flaming. Every second of this experience with him is even better than the fiction. You could never have imagined such a heavenly sensation of submission.

It goes without saying that you don’t get to have another orgasm till Charlie gives permission. Thankfully he himself is near the edge as well; from his heated breathing and the feeling of his throbbing cock when it brushes against your skin you can just tell. And he wants both of you to come undone at the same time again. So he gets into position...

But in the moment just before he plunges in and splits you open, as you have always been hoping... he leans in to whisper words into your ear, which are for sure the hottest thing that you will ever fucking hear: “Now Miss Y/N—I’m gonna fuck you better than any damn thing you’ve ever written.”

That is a promise and you both know it. And you can’t fucking wait for him to show it. Fuck you in ways that take you someplace far beyond the filthy fantasies of fanfiction.

And that is how your love affair with Charlie Hunnam began—how you lost a bet, ended up in his bed, wet and naked, just as he had said. It’s a night you won’t ever forget... one that you hope will happen again...

You may not know it yet, but Charlie hopes that too. Already knows he’ll never get enough of you. This is the first but hopefully not the last night you’ll get to spend. Lucky for you two—unlike any piece of fanfiction that finishes once Miss Y/N is done playing pretend—this real-life romance that you’ve started... never has to end.

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

Hope you enjoyed this, and would love to hear if you did! 🤗❤️

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#charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam smut #charlie hunnam imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam fic #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you #jax teller #sons of anarchy #soa #rpf #rpf fanfic #rpf fanfiction #celebrity imagines

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nashibirne · 3 years

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Where The Wild Roses Grow - An August Walker Story

Pairing: August Walker x OFC (Fern) Summary: Don't screw the crew? This doesn't work for August Walker Warnings: Smut, Sex, 18+, NSFW, unprotected sex, oral sex mentioned, kinda soft August This is kinda AU, because August survived the events of MI:Fallout Unbeta'ed! English is not my mother tongue, so consider yourself warned Disclaimer: I don't own August Walker (but he owns me...) Credits: Pics for the header from Pinterest

A big thank you to the wonderful @legendarywizarddetective Honey, thanks for your support, your advice and your opinion. You have no idea, how much I appreciate your help <3 xxx

tag list: @lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @madbaddic7ed @artandotherdelights

You can find the next parts and my other fics on my Masterlist

~~~~~

Chapter 1

Fern

I'm bent over my desk, still recovering from my orgasm, while August is railing me hard from behind to reach his own climax. It doesn't take him long. He comes with a suppressed growl that turns into a satisfied moan slowly. As usual he pulls out right after, gives me a playful slap on my naked butt and stuffs his dick back into his pants with a smug smile.

He never undresses to fuck me and he never asks me to get naked. He just hitches up my skirt or dress, pulls my panties out of the way and enters my pussy with his fingers, his tongue or his dick. My clothes have turned into some kind of code with time. If I wear trousers I know he won't touch me, so if I choose to wear a pair of jeans it's my way to say no. If I wear a skirt or a dress he knows he can have me if he wants to. It doesn't happen every day or on a regular basis, sometimes we fuck five days in a row and sometimes we don't for two weeks and that's part of its charm.

Whenever it happens, it is always quick and dirty and pretty good. Sure, there's no tenderness, no cuddling, hardly any kissing but it still is great sex. Satisfying and uncomplicated, no strings attached. I never thought I could enjoy physical love without being emotionally involved, but with August it works somehow. I don't even know how it happened, can hardly tell how this started.

I used to work at the CIA as a team assistant, he was THE notorious agent, August "The Hammer" Walker, effective, discreet, intimidating, mysterious, larger-than-life. Yeah, I know, this alone sounds sexy as hell and you haven't even seen him. Tall, broad shouldered, dark hair, blue eyes, face like an angel but his signature mustache and the three-days-stubble giving it a dangerous touch. We got along quite well but it was all strictly professional back then. He always kept a distance, not only from me but from everyone and I knew he was well out of my league anyway, even if we hadn't worked together.

After the disaster with Ethan Hunt I was shocked, devastated even, because I'd never expected him to be a traitor and I was sure I'd seen the last of him after the events in Kashmir. To my big surprise he contacted me a few weeks after. He had somehow survived the fight with Hunt and the explosion and bailed himself out of this mess. I still don't know how he made it, what or who he sold to the government but it must have been a huge deal because they cleared his record and he was free to do whatever he wanted under one condition, he had to leave the country. He chose to make a fresh start in London and to set up a cyber security business with a partner. This partner is Peter Brooks, who is an ex-hacker August knows from some CIA investigations, and they are the perfect team -August sells security, Peter programs it, August is responsible for the hardware, Pete for the software. And a good team needs a team assistant and that was the point where I got involved.

I don't know why he asked me of all people, maybe because he knew I was unattached and because we had already proven that we worked together well. I asked him several times for his reasons but he always shrugged it off. I was hesitant about taking his offer, of course I was, I didn't trust him anymore, he had been public enemy number one and to be honest I was scared. I was afraid of him, of what he could be up to, of the potential for violence he was radiating and his criminal energy in general, but he offered me lots of money, a wonderful apartment in Shoreditch and he promised me that he would never expose me to any kind of danger, that he'd changed and that I would never have to do something illegal for him. I believed him, mostly because I wanted to. I was desperate to add a little adventure to my boring existence and earning much more than an average assistant plus living in one of the greatest cities in the world seemed to be an attractive prospect. Up to now I haven't regretted my decision.

August has kept his word. There are no signs that the company is involved in any illegal deals and as far as I know he is not scheming or hiding something. Actually I'm quite sure of that because we all know that the federal authorities keep a close eye on him and his little business. Moreover we've got to know each other quite well and I imagine that I would know if he was hiding something from me. Maybe I would, maybe it's just wishful thinking but I tend to say that I can judge him quite well by now. That's not surprising actually, considering how much time we spend together, 12 to 16 hours a day, five to six days a week.

How did the sex thing begin you ask? I don't really know. Maybe it was the glances he started to give me, the attention I wasn't used to. I just started to feel good around him, sexy and wanted. Of course it's flattering that a handsome man like him shows interest in someone like me, even if it's just physical.

I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one. He travels a lot, is away for days or weeks sometimes and I know he doesn't end up lonely in his hotel room every night. But we have kind of a don't-ask-don't-tell-policy and I'm fine with it.

The first time we fucked was a good year ago and 9 months after I came to London to work for Walker & Brooks SecTec. I wore one of my summer dresses, dark blue with white dots, plain but cute, and August complimented me on my outfit several times that day. He had never done this before. When I was just about to leave he suddenly stood in the doorway of my office and looked at me with a feral grin that gave me goosebumps. "What?" I asked him with a frown.

"Nothing. It's just...you better not wear that dress again at work." His grin turned into a smirk.

"Why? You said you like it." I looked down at my body, feeling self-conscious all of the sudden.

"Right. I like it a little too much, Fern."

I gave him a sheepish smile. "What's that supposed to mean?" He came closer, standing right in front of me now.

"It means you look so delicious in that dress, you're giving me a hard time trying to control myself around you."

I was speechless in that moment and pretty sure that he was making fun of me. In my whole life there hadn't been a single man that had problems with his self control around me. I'm just not the kind of woman that drives a guy out of his mind.

"That's not funny."

"It's not supposed to be funny. I'm serious."

He looked me deep in the eyes, his face was just inches away from mine. Suddenly he grabbed me by my waist and spinned me around, pulling me close to him. "Your ass is so juicy in that dress, your waist so small, your breasts so beautiful, I just can't stop thinking about touching you." He whispered all this into my ear and then I felt his lips on my neck. They brushed the sensitive flesh just lightly. He did nothing more for a moment, and I knew he hesitated to give me a chance to turn him down, to say no to him. I didn't. I said yes that day. I let him kiss my neck. I let him squeeze my ass. I let him caress my tits. I turned around and kissed him and I moaned into his mouth under his touch. I felt how hard he was, how much he wanted me and it was the greatest turn-on. All the dirty things he told me, the magic his skilled hands worked on my body, the sexual energy and the dominance he was radiating from every pore - I was putty in his hands, willing to give him everything...everything I had craved since I'd moved here. I was touch starved, there hadn't been a single date or something because my whole life was like eat-work-sleep-repeat. He fucked me on my desk that day. Standing between my legs -my dress hitched up, my panties lying in the corner of the room- he thrust his big dick into my needy pussy with force and without mercy, giving me one of the most intense orgasms of my life.

***

August

Fern. I know she hates her name, but if you ask me, it's beautiful. Old fashioned in a good way, special, innocent and very pretty. Just like the woman who bears it. You wonder if that's the reason why I asked her to work for me? Because she's so pretty with her long honeyblond hair and the big brown eyes? You think I hired her because I wanted to fuck her right from the start? I'm sorry to disappoint you but you're wrong. I didn't see her that way in the beginning.

When we worked together for the CIA she was in a relationship anyway. We never talked about it, it was all strictly professional back then, but she had this picture of a guy on her desk, a good looking man with a boyish smile and the aura of an intellectual snob. Eventually the picture vanished and wasn't replaced by a new one so I assumed she was unattached, which was one reason I considered her to be suitable. But the main reason was that she is simply very good at her job. Of all the assistants we had she was the best organized and structured one, she is smart and her quickness is extraordinary. She's friendly and sociable but most of all she is loyal and has integrity. In the old days you'd called her virtuous and that was exactly what I was looking for.

I knew to start a new life, a life as an upright citizen, I'd need help. Help from someone like her, not from someone like my partner Peter who struggles with keeping things legal too. To put it in a nutshell, I needed a moral compass and she was the right woman for the job and she still is. Keeping us on track, guiding us without even knowing it just by her natural sense of justice. Of course it was hard to convince her to trust me and to make her give up her life in the states and to begin anew in London and when she finally agreed it was a big relief.

Yeah, yeah, yackety-yack, you say? But why did you start to fuck her?

Well, the not so flattering answer is, I did it because I wanted to know if I could. Peter said no. Never ever would a smart woman like Fern fuck her boss, he said when we talked about it one boozy evening. The two of us were celebrating a huge deal and I said something like I'd love to give Fern a special reward for her good work and he laughed out loud when he realized what I meant.

Well, I love a good challenge and there was something in her eyes, a gleam, a spark, that told me she was looking for an adventure, for anything to make her life a little more exciting and I was willing to give her what she was craving. And so it began.

It was supposed to be a one-off, just to prove to myself that I was able to seduce her but after the first time I wanted more. The way she let me fuck her and the way her body responded to mine was just too good to not do it again. She knows it's just sex, I didn't even have to explain it to her, it is obvious. As I said she's a quick thinker and she knows what it means that I don't even strip off my pants, that I just get out my dick to rail her.

Sometimes I eat her pussy before I fuck her, sometimes I make her ride my fingers, but I never undress myself or her. And she doesn't seem to care, she likes it and she never asks for more. She just wants a good orgasm and that's what she gets. She cums easily, she's clearly not one of the women who need a lot of time to have an orgasm, who need a long foreplay and cuddles afterwards and that's great because I'm not the right man for this kind of intimacy. I'm just a man who wants a good, satisfying fuck. I don't need love, I just need sex.

And today she's just given me that. After making her come with my mouth I fucked her hard on her desk and it was great. But now it's back to business, we have a job to do and Peter will be back from his lunch break in a few minutes. Of course he knows what's going on but we never fuck when he's around. I would because it's none of his business what happens behind closed doors but Fern is scared that he could walk in on us. "I could never look him in the eyes again, August. I swear I'd die from embarrassment." That's what she said when I wanted to have my ways with her in my office with Peter working next door one day. Virtuous, as I said. Luckily she's not such a prude when we're alone.

"Here's the Henderson file, I signed the contract. Send it back to them please." She nods and takes the papers from my hand. She's sitting behind her desk, the one I just fucked her on, and I love the thought that my cum is dripping into her panties right now. She never reeks of sex though, I guess she always has fresh panties in her handbag and she washes her pussy in the bathroom when we're done. Well organized and always prepared, that's Fern.

"I need to leave a little earlier today if that's okay. I have an appointment." She looks at me with a smile that I don't return. I hardly ever smile and she knows it. She doesn't take offence and keeps on giving me her sweet smiles that often brighten up my busy days and I appreciate it.

"Sure. What kind of appointment?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Curious much, huh?"

"It's job related...ex agent...you know how it is." I grin and turn to leave because I don't expect an answer.

"Piano lessons." Her voice makes me stop and turn around.

"So you finally decided to do it."

"Yeah. I thought a lot about what you told me. That you're never too old to learn stuff and to start with something new. So I decided to give it a try."

"That's good, Fern. I'm sure you're gonna nail it."

"Thanks, August. To be honest I'm pretty nervous. I still think I might be too old to learn it properly."

"You're only 32 and you don't have to become the next Rachmaninoff."

She laughs and it sounds as clear as a bell. "I'll keep that in mind." "Good girl."

~~~~~~

#august walker #august walker smut #august walker x ofc #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #mission impossible fallout #august walker au #august walker fic

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muchadoaboutbucky · 3 years

Text

all the time in the world | oneshot

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes x Native American!Reader WORD COUNT: 3,954 WARNINGS: slow burn, eventual smut, fluff, minor injury NOTE: Imagine if Bucky hadn’t been injured in Civil War and went on the run with everyone else. The reader’s face claim is Crystle Lightning. I also used Sebastian’s “Destroyer” look for inspiration as well. Enjoy!

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I do not consent to minors (17-) reading my work.

It’s been six months since Siberia. Six long, rough months of dodging the government and living off the grid. No phones, no computers, no connection to the outside world other than the daily newspapers you manage to pick up.

Living in close quarters isn’t the easiest. The jet doesn’t have the best sleeping quarters, just five open bunks on the lower level. The other two have become storage, a cluttered mess of papers and empty weapons boxes and ammunition that has yet to be organized.

It doesn’t help that you and Bucky have become a little more than friends.

He’s become different since you went on the run. He’s quiet, broody, and absolutely merciless when it comes to getting a mission done. To say the sight of the former assassin taking down the bad guys with nothing but a couple weapons and his bare metal hand doesn’t get you all kinds of riled up.

The five of you have just finished up a weekend in Portugal. A weapons bust had gone almost perfectly to plan, with the small exception of you getting a bullet graze on your thigh from one of the barely-alive arms dealers on your way out the door. You’d hit the ground hard, and before you could say anything or make a move to recover, Bucky scooped you off the ground and took the fire escape all the way up to the roof and into the jet without a second glance back.

Fortunately the medical bay’s been fully restocked, and Nat quickly gets you on the examining table while Sam takes off, the jet’s cloaking technology vanishing instantly into the dark three-am sky.

“Suit off,” Nat directs, reaching into one of the storage cupboards for a prepped cleaning kit. You strip out of your suit, wincing as the fabric grazes your wound. Natasha bends to examine the wound, gently pressing along the edges with a gloved finger.

“No stitches, please,” you mutter.

“Nope, you won’t need those.” Nat grabs an antiseptic wipe. “Just some bandages and you’ll need to take it easy for a couple days.”

You grumble. “Gross.”

“Could be worse.” Nat dabs the antiseptic wipe along the thin red line of your injury, and you wince, trying not to jerk away. “So… you and Barnes, huh?”

You frown, glancing down at the shimmer of her red hair. “What?”

She chuckles. “He carried you outta there like his ass was on fire. You two’ve been dancing around each other for a couple months.”

Your cheeks flush hot. “We just… it’s complicated.”

“How complicated can it be?” She smiles. “Two people like each other, they go out on a couple dates, maybe they fall in love.”

“It’s not like we have a lot in common,” you explain. “It’s just fooling around, right now, at least.”

If ‘fooling around’ counts as the time he pinned you up against the side of the jet and kissed the shit out of you with his thigh between your legs… or the time he’d waited for everyone else to be occupied with organizing the weapons closet before tugging your panties aside and sliding two fingers deep inside—

“You don’t have to bond over all the bad stuff.” She tosses the wipe into the trash and peels the wrapping off a patch of gauze. “Maybe you have small similarities. Maybe you both like chocolate, maybe you used to go to the same park as kids. It’s the little things.”

As slick and smart as she is, Natasha has no idea about the dirty things you and Bucky have done in the dark.

“I’m just not sure it would work.” You peer down when she lays a pair of large Band-Aids over the patch of gauze. “He’s a little more rough around the edges than I am, he’s still adjusting to this whole modern-life thing, I’m not sure saying ‘hey, you wanna be my boyfriend’ in the middle of it would be smart.”

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Oh please, he knows what he wants, he’s just afraid to ask for it. Men are like that.”

The privacy curtain slides back, and you and Natasha look up so fast you both nearly get whiplash. Bucky’s standing there, eyes wide as he takes in the full sight of you sitting on the table, clothed only in a plain black bra and panties.

“Oh.” He swallows, and his cheeks flush bright red. “Never mind, I was just—”

Natasha grins. “Barnes, if you have something to say—”

The curtain swishes shut, and the heavy tread of his boots fades away. You giggle, raising a hand to cover your mouth. He’s never seen you this degree of undressed before, much less seen a naked woman in the last several decades.

“Teach him how to knock,” Natasha jokes, sweeping the used kit into the trash and tugging her gloves off. “I’ll grab you some clothes, we don’t need all the men stroking out from seeing a pair of boobs.”

***

You emerge from the medical room dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a tee shirt. Steve and Sam are settled comfortably in the pilots’ seats, and Natasha herself has changed into flannel pants and a one of the tee shirts she’s stolen from Sam.

Bucky’s nowhere to be found.

“We’ll find somewhere to land in a couple hours,” Steve says, glancing back at you. “How’s your leg, kid?”

“Hurts, but I’ve had worse.” You offer a smile before turning to Nat. “Where’s Bucky?” you ask her silently.

“Downstairs,” she replies, the corner of her mouth turning up into a little smirk. “Alone.”

You roll your eyes, cheeks burning as you head to the descending ladder for the lower level. Bucky’s sitting on the floor, earphones on, eyes closed. He somehow hears you approach, because he opens his eyes and reaches up to pull the scuffed headphones off and pause the old cassette player clutched in his left hand.

You’re so used to him being big and strong and dominant. Now he just seems… weary. A side you don’t see very often.

“Hi.” You slide down to sit next to him. “It’s late, Nat and I are going to bed, you should wash up and get some rest.”

“I’m not tired,” he replies softly.

“Are you worried about walkin’ in on me half naked?” you ask, reaching up to run your fingers through the longer hair at the top of his head. Since almost shaving it off, it’s grown back, and he almost looks like he used to back in his time.

His cheeks flush. “You were a little more than half naked.”

“It’s not a problem, I didn’t mind.” You rest your head on his shoulder. “You look exhausted, you should really get some rest.”

“I’m not tired.” Bucky sets the cassette player and headphones on the floor next to him. “Been trying to get some alone time with you for a long time, and tonight when you went down… I just got a lot of ‘what if’s’ goin’ on in my head.”

You hum. “I’m fine. My leg hurts and Nat’s gonna kill me if I don’t take it easy, but—”

“I wanna take you somewhere.” He turns to face you. “I hate dancin’ around like this, and I get that it’s risky for us to be… involved, or whatever we’re trying to be, but…” he swipes his tongue over his lower lip, “I think we deserve one night where we aren’t gonna be sleeping in these stupid bunks. Just you and me.”

You wrap your fingers through his warm metal ones. “We do have that tent in the storage cupboard… we could make a camping night of it?”

He sighs. “I want a real bed. In a real… house, or hotel, or whatever, but I wanna be alone with you. We deserve that, we’ve been playing back and forth for the last six months and I’m tired of it.”

Smiling, you press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “What else do you want?”

He lets out a soft breath before tipping his head back against the wall. “I wanna make love to you, and I can’t do that in a stupid little bunk where three other people can see us.”

You stifle a flustered giggle in his chest. “We can still fool around, Bucky.”

He grunts, dissatisfied. “Can’t you pretend your leg is worse than it is and they can drop us off somewhere?”

“I don’t know, they’ve seen me walking just fine.”

“You could be in shock and not know how bad it is.”

“Bucky.” You slide onto his lap and cup his face. “I’ve been in shock before, several times, and I’m not in shock.”

He smiles lazily, skimming his hands up your sides. “Really? You look a little cold.”

“Because we’re at fifteen-thousand feet,” you kiss him softly, wincing when your bandage pulls, “and Sam’s slacking on fixing the temperature regulator.”

“Maybe I should take you somewhere with a fireplace.” He peers at you through the dim light. “I could do a lot with that.”

“Oh yeah?” You run a finger over his cheek. “Like what?”

He grins wolfishly. “Put some blankets out in front of the fire… get you all warm and toasty before I make love to you.”

You bite your lip, shifting on his lap. “Bucky…”

“Hmm?”

“Hearing you talk about making love to me isn’t making the fact that I really want that right now any better.”

He chuckles. “I can be quick, you know that.”

“I’m not having our first time on the jet floor.” You stand up, pulling on his metal arm. “Come on, let’s get some sleep.”

He stands obediently, eyes raking up your bare thighs and the bandage on as he rises. “You know, you look really hot with a bandage on your thigh.”

“Oh, so you’re glad I got shot?”

“I didn’t say that.” He wraps his arms around your waist. “I mean I like seein’ you with things on your thighs. Holsters… those thigh-high socks you wore a month ago, that made me…” he shivers and digs his fingers into your hips.

“Freak,” you giggle. “Bucky, if you don’ let me go...”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Mmm.” You slip a teasing finger into his belt.

He grins, slowly backing you up until your shoulders press against the steel wall. In a playful attempt to duck away, you try to slip just to his left, and warm metal wraps around your arm, pinning you firmly in place.

“Hold on,” he mutters, “you think you can just do that and walk away?”

You let out a long, soft moan when he presses his lips to yours, stepping up so close you can feel the firm heat of his body. Your fingers twist in his shirt, and he slots a knee between your thighs, careful to avoid your injured one as flesh fingers twist into your hair. He hums when you give an instinctual push of your hips against the rough fabric of his pants, and you

“Better rest up, then, honey.”

You giggle when he lands a firm swat on your ass and scamper up the ladder, heaving yourself onto the upper level with Bucky close behind you. The grin on Bucky’s face earns you a quizzical look from Sam, but you roll your eyes and head down to your bunk, making sure that nobody can see before stretching up on your toes and giving Bucky a goodnight kiss.

***

The jolt of the jet landing just over four hours later wakes you. You sit up, almost banging your head on the top of your bunk, and curse Sam for winning Rock Paper Scissors for the top one. You emerge blearily, shoving your privacy curtain aside with a grimace as a ray of sunlight smacks you in the face.

“Ow,” you mutter as Sam drops down from the bunk above you, “what time is it?”

“It’s late morning,” Steve replies, emerging from the cockpit. “We’re in Austria. Found us a place to lay low for a couple days. We’re gonna have to do a little bit of hiking and wear disguises when we check in, but the jet’s on stealth mode. Town’s about a twenty-minute walk away.”

Town. Thank God.

The four of you stumble around, stuffing things into your bags and checking your nanomasks before stepping off the jet. It’s a brisk morning, and you tug a jacket over your shoulders as you take in your surroundings.

Steve’s touched down in a large field of flowers. The jet’s invisible to your eye when the hatch closes, and you set off to the East, keeping your heads low as you head into a more-populated area and onto busy streets. There’s a market across from the closest hotel, and you make a note to sneak out and get some of the pretty fruits and breads on display.

When you get up to the counter, Steve shoves a wad of cash from his duffel bag at the attendant and asks for two rooms, which you get with a three-night guarantee.

“Okay,” Sam murmurs once you’re in the elevator heading up to your floor, “who shares with who? I’m not havin’ Barnes hogging all the covers again.”

“Mmm, you won’t.” Natasha slips you a sly look. “Barnes and Y/N together, I’ll share with Steve, so you, Sam, can have all the covers you want.”

You cast a quick glance at Bucky and find his cheeks stained bright pink. “That’s fine,” you cover when he fails to respond, “we’re gonna get some rest anyway.”

Nat smirks when the elevator doors slide open, and you roll your eyes before accepting the key card Steve offers you. “Sure, sure,” she replies, “make sure it’s a good rest.”

You give her a playful glare as she follows Steve and Sam into their room and closes the door, leaving you and Bucky to slip into your room across the hall with burning faces.

It’s definitely not the biggest—or best—room that you’ve ever stayed in, but it’ll do the trick. The bed is king-sized, with several lumpy-looking pillows stacked on a thin white comforter. You set your bag down on the floor and toe off your boots, stretching your arms over your head while Bucky goes to inspect the bathroom.

“It’s not bad,” he calls out, “just a shower stall, no tub.”

“That’s good enough for me.” You tug a fresh set of clothes out of your duffel and snag your almost-empty toiletries from the front pocket. “You wanna go first, or…”

“Nah, you.” He runs a hand up your back and leans in to press his lips against yours. “I’m gonna try and get some shut-eye. I never sleep well on the jet.”

You hum against his mouth, grateful for the sudden solitude. “I’ll be out in fifteen. Knock if you need anything, ‘kay?”

He smiles and slumps down on the bed, watching you slip into the bathroom and leave the door slightly ajar.

The water pressure isn’t too bad. It’s been a few days since you’ve been able to properly clean up, and your hair gets washed thoroughly, pits get shaved, well… everything that isn’t permanently done gets shaved, and you emerge from the steam-filled shower dressed in panties and a tee shirt, towel held to the now-exposed wound on your thigh. Bucky’s stretched out on the bed, a pillow tucked under his head, eyes closed. The medical kit’s in his bag, and you tug it free and watch one crystal-blue eye open as you perch on the edge of the bed.

“How’s that?” His eyes rake over the bare skin of your thigh as you pull it away to inspect the slowly-scabbing graze.

“Healing.” You gently poke at the angry bruise along the side and wince. “I still need to bandage it.”

Bucky sighs, watching you tug out a roll of gauze and tape. “Want some help with that?”

You smile gladly in return. “Please?”

“You got it.” He slides off the bed and reaches for the paper-wrapped supplies. Nimble fingers tear open the packets, and you lean back as he kneels on the carpet, flesh hand gently splayed out against your knee as he gently lowers a folded strip of cause to cover the exposed flesh. Medical tape snaps off between his teeth, and you watch him lay four strips, one on each side until he’s satisfied that your injury is sufficiently protected.

“Thanks.” You reach over and rub the top of his head. “So walking in on me in just my bra and panties didn’t… that didn’t bother you?”

He chuckles. “No, it didn’t bother me. Just surprised me.”

You giggle. “Really? ‘Cause you looked like a total virgin.”

“Shush.” He kisses your knee and gazes up at you, eyes wide and almost deceivingly innocent. “Not a virgin, honey, just… you look hot in that suit, and seeing you out of it was… a shock. Good shock.”

***

The rest of the day passes slowly, with you and Bucky dozing in and out of naps until Sam knocks on the door, asking if Bucky wants to go to the market outside. You watch him leave, donning his nanomask and swiping a couple bills from the plastic bag he keeps in his duffel before slipping out the door.

He’s back in an hour, carrying a large paper bag full of what looks like bread and fruit and all kinds of goodies. You eat slowly, sneaking kisses between bites of fresh, juicy watermelon for a mock-dessert.

Around six, Natasha comes by, inviting you to the other room for a much better dinner of pizza and drinks… which, as it turns out, hasn’t even been delivered yet. You and Bucky spend the first ten minutes enduring innuendo from Natasha, which Steve is quick to defend, although he snorts at one comment about peaches that makes Bucky choke on his bottle of ale.

The pizza finally arrives, three boxes to cater to two supersoldier appetites, and you’re able to unwind, laughing and joking and teasing each other until it’s late and Sam starts to yawn incessantly. You and Bucky make an excuse for being tired as well, and Natasha watches you leave with a glimmer in her eye as the door swings shut.

The moment you and Bucky are safely tucked in the seclusion of your room, he pulls you into his arms and plants a warm, sweet kiss on your lips.

“Baby,” he breathes, “we only got three nights here and I… I wanna take you, tonight…”

You giggle. “Bucky, we’re not in your time anymore. You can tell me what you want.”

He swallows, metal fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt. “I wanna make love with you.”

You roll your eyes and wind your arms around his neck. “Is that all?”

He grumbles. “Baby, you’re making it harder than it needs to be.”

“Sorry.” You stretch up on your toes and kiss him again, hips rubbing deliciously against his. “Only thing I need to be hard is this… and looks like you’re way ‘head of me.”

Bucky groans, breaking away to tug your shirt over your head. “If you keep doing that, you’re not gonna feel it for a while.”

You bite your lip, watching him strip his own shirt and toss it to the ground. Before you can do anything else, he lifts you up, careful to avoid your injured thigh, and lays you out on the bed, reaching for your pajama shorts and tugging them down to leave you in just a plain pair of panties.

Now he’s nervous, you can see it in his eyes. He’s had you open before, got his fingers wet inside your pussy, and kissed the shit out of you until you could barely breathe, but he’s never had you completely naked and exposed.

“Hey.” You reach for his hand, guiding it to the little blue bow between your hips. “It’s okay, baby.”

He chuckles, easing his fingers beneath the elastic and watching with held breath as he teases them down, letting them fall off the edge of the bed with a soft pat. His palms smooth down the insides of your thighs, spreading you open, and when he trails the pad of his thumb over your clit and you press your hips up to get closer, he lets out a strangled groan and curls over you, completely helpless.

Your hands push at his sweats, and you giggle when he clumsily kicks them down over his feet, leaving himself completely bare for you as well. When your fingers drift to wrap around his thick, heavy shaft, he stops, gritting his teeth against the side of your neck.

“Baby…” he clears his throat, raising his head to look at you. “We’re not movin’ too fast, right?”

“Don’t get soft on me,” you reply, “we’re good, Bucky, I’m happy, I wanna feel you…”

He nods, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Good, it’s just… it’s been a long time and—”

“Shhh.” You rub your hands over his hips. “I don’t care, I just want you.”

Bucky’s eyes darken, and he reaches down to grab himself, experimentally running the swollen tip of his cock through yout pussy until he finds your opening, and you grab on tight, a cry of pleasure dying in your throat as he pumps his hips forward and sinks in.

“Ahh, fuck—” he grunts quietly against your lips when your nails dig into his ass, “baby…”

You can’t even find the words to reply. He’s so deep, thick and hot and pulsing inside where your body grips him tight. All you can do is give a little tug, trying to urge him on, and he gives you what you want without question.

All sense of awkwardness or anxiety melts away as he props himself up on both arms, watching your body roll and move under his as he searches a rhythm, inexperience getting the better of him when his hips stutter and slide. He finds it, a steady, rough beat back and forth that makes your clit rub against the skin above his cock and high-pitched sighs and whimpers to rattle in your throat.

“C’mere,” he pants, hooking his flesh arm under your shoulders to keep you close, and you brace yourself as his thrusts grow hard enough for your bodies to slap together. It’s been so long since you’ve been able to feel this good that when his lips find one nipple and latch on, your body decides to follow its own path.

All it takes for you to cum is a few quick rolls of your clit under your fingers, and Bucky lets out a choked gasp when he feels the rapid contractions, burying his face in the crook of your neck and matching your moans with his own, panting harder and louder as he stutters, pushes in as far and hard as he can, and cums with a growl that resonates deep in your soul as you wrap your legs tight around his waist.

You come back to reality slowly, sweaty bodies sticking as he drops down over you, pressing a lazy kiss to your lips.

“That was fast,” he murmurs, “sorry, baby, I couldn’t—”

“It’s okay.” You run your fingers through his hair. “It’s been a long time for me too, it was… that was good.”

“Good.” He chuckles and pulls away, watching the first dribble of white slide from your core. “We got three more days to make it longer, huh?”

“Yeah.” You reach for his hand, fingers intertwining with his. “Right now, we have all the time in the world.”

💕 Reblogs and comments are lovely 💕

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction

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totallytododeku · 4 years

Text

☁ studying together ( x reader hc's) ☁

characters: midoriya, bakugou, todoroki, kirishima, yaoyorozu, uraraka, + ashido

genre: fluff <33

☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁☁

I. Midoriya 🌳🍀🌻

this poor boy is so excited to be spending time with you

but he will not take his nose out of his textbook

he can't help it

he's so happy to be in the hero course he takes his schoolwork a little too seriously

however, you can use this to your advantage ;)

normally you're almost as invested in his journey to becoming the next Symbol of Peace and achieving his dream as he is

and you would never dream of doing anything that could jeopardize it

So you were silently bouncing off the walls with glee when you realized he was impervious to distractions when it came to studying

literally anything is fair game

which is why studying with him is your new favorite time of day

pet his hair

kiss his cheeks

climb into his lap

pat his head

hold his non-dominant hand

hug him from behind his chair

rest your head on his shoulder and take a nap

do whatever you want

you can basically do anything to him while he's studying without having to worry about distracting him

he will blush a little bit of you kiss him but but you think it's adorable

lol turn on whatever tv or music you want

but only if you're done with your work!!

hes very adamant that you keep up with your work as best you can do you can graduate side by side and be pro heroes together someday

K. Bakugou 💣💥 📢

he would totally be the one to invite you to study and he would probably want to study in his dorm

it's super quiet and nobody will bother you guys because they know it's that spiky gremlin's room

overall his room just has a really relaxing atmosphere

you love being near him as much as possible

and he's much more affectionate in the comfort of his dorm room

but that doesn't mean he's gonna go easy on u ;-;

he still has his gruff attitude and will make sure you're studying every day

or else he will call u baka and force you to sit down and study until you know all your material

he's actually a great tutor tho

he writes out all the work for each problem and explains them thoroughly

all while holding in you in his arms while you sit in his lap

sometimes you can convince him to play a game with you where every time you get an answer right he gives you a kiss

but you whine when you get one wrong and he won't kiss you

he huffs before giving you a kiss while still trying to look annoyed

stupid girl he mutters

but he pulls you a bit closer to him to hide his blush and moves on to the next problem despite your giggles

S. Todoroki ❄🔥🍜

he doesn't really need to study but he doesn't know how to just .. relax

like he doesn't know how to not do what his dad tells him to do

and his dad wants him to study

it's just easier for Todoroki to do what his dad wants than to rebel

that is, it was

Until he met you and the dekusquad

obviously everyone cares about their homework and wants to graduate well and go Plus Ultra!

but study sessions with Todoroki usually end up just being you guys trying to help him be less hard on himself while you have him as a captive audience

he doesn't really mind, though, especially when it's just you two

the intimacy of studying together in comfortable silence and just

enjoying each other's company

makes his heart go (*￣∇￣*)

like i said he doesn't really need to study so he'll just end up helping you review material

please just ... hold his hand :)

after you're done studying for the day just pull him into a hug and over to your bed

he needs a nap

you feel warm fuzzies inside from how caring he's been to sit with you while you finished your homework and bring you warm tea

you don't even think you just

Time for cuddles :3

it becomes your daily ritual to study together and then cuddle

he always falls asleep in your arms with a small smile

E. Kirishima 🗿🗿🗿

(HAHAHSHNSJ THE 🗿 EMOJI OMG I'M LITERALLY SO FUNNY LOL I'M CRYING)

"Okay, Y/N, let's study hard and do our homework like men!" *fist-pumping the air and grinning like an idiot*

"...what's so funny? "

he doesn't care if you're not a man it's his trademark

he likes to study at his desk because he says it's "important to stay focused and work diligently"

generally he is the least focused person, ever. besides kaminari.

however, he's so energetic and enthusiastic that once you sit down and start studying he'll be able to keep your motivation up until you've finished all your homework

GREAT at studying for tests and quizzes (in theory)

he will never give up

like I said he could keep studying for hours once he sets his mind to it

So you have to compromise and get him to study in short bursts throughout the day to help him have a better chance of remembering anything ;-;

his memory is not great but it's kinda cute

you, being the smart cookie that u are, realized the best way to help him memorize things was to study with flashcards frequently throughout the weekend while doing other activities

so you plan to hang out together and do something fun every week while having your study material on index cards in your back pockets

it's a literal study date.

a weekly date out to the mall or the park or a little coffee shop but with math trivia thrown in randomly throughout the afternoon!! :D

Of course he was ready to turn it into a game he's a literal puppy

he just wants to show you you can be proud of him

you giggle lightly when you hear him say that and let him know that you'll always be proud of him, no matter what

M. Yaoyorozu 👑🏆☕

studyblr wants what u have.

studying in momo's room makes you feel like a Victorian young lady studying moral philosophy, writing poetry about the mourning doves outside the garden window, and waiting for her husband to come home from sailing the seven seas

it's your Belle moment where she's in the royal library except it's every day

stacks of beautiful, old books

the smell of the crisp, white pages

soft classical music floating through the air

the window cracked open slightly

and you are the luckiest student in all of UA because you get to study with the smartest girl in the whole school

she's also gorgeous and sweet and perfect which def doesn't hurt

u know that joke that ur teacher can spend a year explaining something and u never understand but then a random indian guy on YouTube explains it in 2 minutes and you finally get it

she is that random indian guy

you will never struggle with a single concept after you start studying with her

And she's so proud of you for every little question you answer correctly

(even thought she's the one that explained it all so well in the first place)

it's the definition of comfortable silence

she insists that neither of you study too hard and that you take lots of breaks to stretch

she says its to help you stay concentrated but really she just wants to feel your gentle hands on her shoulders as you massage out the knots

you take turns kneading the tension out of each other's shoulders

you feel a pleasant tingle down your spine at the feeling of her soft breath on the back of your neck

She pulls away and you share awkward smiles, neither of you realizing the other one of blushing, too

(((*≧艸≦)ﾌﾟﾌﾟｯ

O. Uraraka 🌜🚀🙏

ur actually super productive study buddies

Like u started studying together and then all of a sudden you were almost at the top of your class

she's just so sweet that being with her gives you the energy you need to write that essay all in one sitting instead of procrastinating like a normal person

Shows up at your dorm with snacks and drinks to keep your energy up!! :D

even though she's still going to end up getting sleepy anyway later in the afternoon

You get most of your studying done at the beginning of your study date so it's not really a problem

you know she doesn't have a lot of money to be throwing around so you pay for dinner every night

It's usually takeout but sometimes you guys make your own dinner for fun!

it always turns out almost inedible and burned because neither of you were paying attention to the stove

don't let baku see it or he'll start screaming about how you need to try your best at everything so he can beat you fair and square and that includes cooking too

neither you nor uraraka can handle spicey food so you never eat what Bakugou cooks for the class

You grab a few bags of chips and some sushi and shut yourselves in your dorm to pull an all-nighter study session about once a month

it should make you tired but, again, studying with her is so enjoyable that you don't mind

u two enjoy each others company in studying so much that you sometimes read ahead in your textbooks just to be able to study more

overall, hanging out with her is just lighthearted and filled with giggles

and you just so happen to get all your homework done along the way

M. Ashido 👾👽🚿

"studying" with her is so much fun

Hanging out with Mina in general is so much fun

it's impossible not to smile when she's around so even if you have a huge exam tomorrow, all your worries fade away just from being with her

She is pretty distracting in cases where you actually wanted to get stuff done

But you don't care

Change of plans

you're doing mani pedi's with Mina

No more studying

it's not as bad as it sounds though

You're not slacking off or anything and you can still keep your grades up with help from your other friends like Momo and Iida

you guys are just goofing off in the privacy of your dorm room when you should be studying

"It's not a crime to be young, Y/ N ;)"

she's just so energetic and happy like a little pink ball of sunshine

you can't help but laugh at her silliness and cute antics after a long day of classes

she makes your heart beat faster like you're on a roller coaster but without the nerves

somehow you feel giddy and comfortable in her presence at the same time

it doesn't matter what you two are doing, you always have fun

make sure she goes to bed on time, though, or she might end up baking a seven-tier cake at 3 am and Bakugou will scream at you for waking him up

don't feed her after midnight lmao

i started writing this after i almost died of boredom in my online calc class. my senioritis is already kicking in and it's still September (｡-ω-)

#boku no hero academia x reader #bnha x reader fluff #bnha headcannons #bakugou katsuki x reader fluff #midoriya izuku x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shoto todoroki #Uraraka ochako #uraraka ochako x reader #Mina ashido x reader #yaoyorozu momo x reader #yaomomo #Kirishima eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima #mha x reader #my hero academia x reader fluff headcannons #study date #hc

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fanficgenerator112 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1

Catra’s POV

These princesses are so loud. Don’t they understand the meaning of “inside voice”? Their voices are even louder echoing off the marble walls of Brightmoon castle.

We’re gathered in the war room for what was supposed to be a meeting but has turned into a party. Wrong Hordak, or whatever Entrapta calls him, made food for everyone and it’s surprisingly good for a clone making it. Adora called them sandwiches and there’s some sort of cake.

I think we had it once when Adora turned 10 back at the Fright Zone. She was just starting cadet training and beat the record her first time in the simulation.

There’s some other stuff that no one has told me the name of yet but at least it tastes good. It’s better than the ration bars from the Horde that’s for sure.

I look over at Adora and smile. She’s laughing at a joke Arrow Boy told her. Her smile seems to light up the whole room, and not in the She-Ra way. She looks over at me and winks before turning to Sparkles and Scorpia.

I can’t believe someone like her could love someone like me. No, Catra you deserve love. Remember what Perfuma said. You are loved, you are deserving, and Adora loves you, no matter what.

“Are you alright?” Melog purrs at my feet. “You looked troubled.” They wrap themselves around my ankles and nudge my calf.

“I’m fine buddy, just practicing what flowers told me. Positive thinking you know?” I pet their fur gently. “I’m alive, I’m with Adora, I’m... Happy.”

I smile looking at the group but Melog knows me too well. “There is still something Catra. What is wrong?”

“I just feel off.. like I still don’t belong. Sure everyone has forgiven me, even if I don’t deserve it, and they just ignore how horrible I was.” I look at everyone smiling and laughing. No one has come over to talk to me, not even Scorpia. I just fade into the background when the whole Princess Squad is together.

“Perhaps our sessions haven’t been successful.” I jump hearing Perfuma’s voice come from behind me. “Sorry! I forgot how jumpy you are still. Do we need a session sooner then next week?”

“I-i..” I blush as I realize she’s heard everything I’ve said. “I’m fine!”

“Catra, do not push away the flowery one. She only intends to help.” I hate it when Melog is my voice of reason. They look up at me smugly.

“I promise you are wanted Catra. You helped save us all. With out you we would have never known about hitting the chip on the back of the neck. And don’t forget how you saved Adora by confessing your love for her!” Perfuma gently places a hand on my shoulder.

“She told you about that!?” I cover my face embarrassed feeling my cheeks heat up.

“Catra are you ok?” Adora looks over at me concerned. “Do you need to step out for a sec?”

I blush at her kind gesture. “No, I’m fine. Thanks Adora.” I smile shyly as she comes over and kisses my cheek.

“One point for me,” She whispers before walking back to sparkles and arrow boy. I growl softly and Perfuma looks at me confused.

“We have a competition to see who can make the other blush more.” I explain quietly. “It’s dumb but she wants me to be more open about our relationship and she knows how competitive I am.”

“That’s a great way to get you out of your shell! And yes she did tell me but it was only me and it was during one of our sessions-”

“Wait Adora goes to you too?” I interrupt Perfuma saying my thoughts out loud. “I thought she was only pestering me about my issues. Does everyone go to you for therapy?” I suddenly feel very insecure. Melog wraps themselves around my legs and purrs softly.

“Everyone has problems and trauma to work through because of the war. Some are worse than others but everything we talk about is confidential unless specified. Adora wants to be able to talk to you about things but a first step we’re taking is using me as a bridge between you two.” I stare at her blankly. She gently takes my hand in her’s. “She knows you went through a lot when she left and wants to talk to you about it but doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable or defensive.”

I sigh. “I guess that makes sense. Just please don’t tell her anything from our sessions, I’m not ready for her to know.” I look down at her hand on mine. A week ago I would have yanked my hand away but it feels, comforting, somehow.

“Of course, do you want to take a walk?��

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” She leads me down the halls still holding my hand. I chuckle and she looks back at me.

“What is it?”

“Oh just how I used to hate you and now here we are holding hands like we’ve been friends our whole lives.”

Perfuma smiles gently. “I am very happy to hear you say you consider me a friend.”

I smile as we make our way into the courtyard and sit by the fountain. I pick at my claws absentmindedly and pull my knees to my chest. The flowers are in full bloom thanks to Perfuma and the magic returning to Etheria only elevates the brightness of the colors. Melog turns a gentle yellow color and rests their head on Perfuma’s lap.

“Catra,” Perfuma places a hand on my knee. “Remember what we said about body language.” I slowly put my feet on the ground, placing my hands in my lap. “Good. Now tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I don’t know. I just feel out of place.” I shrug softly, “Like everyone could function fine if I wasn’t there. Adora is strong and capable as She-Ra, Glimmer and Bow have each other, and even Scorpia spends most of her time with you. I just feel-”

“Overlooked? Not needed?”

“Yeah,” I sigh looking up at the stars. “I don’t feel in control of anything. In the Horde I had power, I was looked up to for decisions and here I just fade into the background. I’m not a princess, I don’t have powers. The only thing I have going for me is Adora and even that doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean by that?”

I look down ashamed. “Adora is all I’ve ever wanted. She’s the reason I did everything I did. But now that I have her there is still-”

“A gap.” Perfuma smiles.

“How are you so good at this?” I laugh.

“I know because Adora feels the same. She feels you don’t need or want her to protect her. You both have very strong personalities. You’re what I would call Alpha personalities. You are protectors, providers, and dominant. Tell me, who takes the lead when you are involved sexually?”

I stand up quickly, puffing up my tail. “Why would you ask something like that?!” She raises her eyebrows and I mumble under my breath, “Adora.”

“And would you like to take the lead sometimes?” I blush and Melog turns a light shade of pink. “I’ll take that as a yes. But you’re too afraid to say that cause you know she is a dominant person. So you both seem to be dancing around the problem of you love each other but are not what each other need.”

“What do you mean by that?” I sit on the ground by Melog and scratch their head trying to calm my breathing.

“You are both Alphas like I said. You protect. But an Alpha needs a nurturer. Someone to be a voice of reason and to look after the Alpha. You’ve tried to take that submissive role but that’s not who you are.”

“What do you suggest we do?” I tilt my head, my ears pinned to my head.

She stands, “That’s for you and Adora to discuss.” She walks off into the castle past a tearing up Adora.

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

A/N

1355 Words

Whooo. there’s my first ever Catradora fic chapter. I am so so so sorry it took so long. I’ve been bombarded with schoolwork and my part-time job so writing has been put on the back burner. Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter and let me know what you all think! My asks are always open.

Thank you so much to @she-ra-writings for inspiring me and letting me use some of her headcannon as inspiration!

Thanks for reading Lovelies!

<3, M.

#catradora x reader #catradora #catra #adora #She Ra #she ra fanfic #She Ra and the Princesses of Power #spop #spopfic #blimmer #scorfuma #frosta #entrapdak #entrapta

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funkymbtifiction · 3 years

Text

hey, me again (the person you typed as SFP). Thanks for your respond. First of all; you are certainly right about me using fi-te, thats actually i am quiet sure about by now (even though i had some trouble seeing myself as a feeler at first because it is usually described that feelers are in general more empathic and i can assure you no person i know would ever use the word "empathic" to describe me)...

You sound like an NP in what you wrote here, yes.

Fi's appear stoic on the outside, but are a swarm of specific emotions on the inside. They are self-referencing; if something doesn't ignite an emotional response in them, they don't care and aren't particularly sympathetic from "the outside," hence why people call them "cold." But they are very easily insulted, if they're INFPs. Much more so than an ENFP, who will consider it through Ne/Te more often than Fi.

#question

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dazaii-sann · 3 years

Text

DAZAI x CHUUYA FANFICTION: ONE-SHOT [LOVE OR GUILT]

Blue.

Brown.

Green.

Yellow.

Orange.

Varied colors blended with each other like a 24-color palette. The wind blew from the west, causing the nearby tree leaves to dance along with the non-existent beat. The blue, clear water rampaged in silence, creating an almost seemingly soft serenade. A huge shining orb in the distance was split in half, projecting its reflection on the calm, unmoving water from below.

The whole place is quiet as if every single living soul had already vacated the area.

Well, not quite.

Two figures stood beneath a tree's shadow, taking refuge and solace after a whole day of struggles. The calm, light afternoon breeze soothe their souls as they look at the orange-painted sky.

Silence ensues but for them, it's what they need.

The quiet rage of the sea.

The hushing sound of overlapping leaves.

The way the remaining rays of the dusk kiss their flesh.

The sound of their even breathing.

Sounds romantic, right?

It is, except for one thing.

Everything, everything seems to retain its brilliance but something decided to exclude itself from that small band of glow.

A redhead's eyes… It's empty. The very exact opposite to his surrounding's radiance.

Meanwhile, the brunet beside him stood still, unmoving, as if he's already accustomed to that kind of scenario.

But is he?

No. Definitely not. Not in a million years.

Seeing his ex-partner like that made his knees wobble. All the remaining courage in his body had left him that even panning his head to Chuuya became an impossible task.

The guilt is slowly consuming him, pulling him into a world far more hellish than hell itself.

They stayed like that for a while, the stillness of the setting sun completely vanished into existence and was dethroned by a huge dark blanket covered with stars. The moon is in its crescent form, seems incomplete but whole all the same.

The coldness of the night embraced the two up to their bones, causing them to shiver.

"It's getting cold, Chuuya. Let's go inside?" The brunet proposed without looking at Chuuya.

He can't. Or maybe he actually can, but he chose not to.

Chuuya nods his head slightly and Dazai saw that movement from his eyes' corners.

Dazai's feet move in front of Chuuya's rear. With a slight push, the wheels on Chuuya's seat were sent into motion, carrying Chuuya's body along with it. Trails of the redhead's wheelchair and the brunet's footprints were engraved in the shore's sand and were immediately erased by the wave's arrival.

In just a few minutes, they reached a small house built near the shore. From its size, one can conclude that its interior can only shelter two people at once.

Upon entering the house, Dazai turned on the lights that he closed before going outside with Chuuya this afternoon. It has a simple structure. A kitchen, two couches and a table in between them, the comfort room, and a shared bedroom.

Dazai carefully lifts Chuuya's body and transfer it to one of the couches.

"You're so light, Chuuya~ Am I not feeding you well?" Dazai tried to annoy Chuuya like he used to back in the days but the redhead's expressions didn't even change. Not even a single move in his facial muscles. The brunet knew from the very start, that he could no longer hear Chuuya's annoyed response coming from his own mouth but he's still hoping, hoping that he could still hear Chuuya's voice one more time.

Chuuya's just like a lump of flesh without a soul inside of it. It is said that the soul is the trigger of an ability.

Maybe that's the exact reason why Chuuya lost his.

Ah no… There's no one to be blamed but Dazai.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

After moving Chuuya in a comfortable position, Dazai left him and went straight to the kitchen.

Dazai was a bad cook. Everyone must ready their pitiful stomach before taking in Dazai's food. Not only that but for the aftermath (puking included). But who would eat those kinds of stuff (can't consider them as "food") in the first place?

Everything changed when he started to live and take care of Chuuya over the past 3 years. He learned how to prepare varied homemade viands. Well, he doesn't want the redhead to eat canned goods every single day!

Dazai turned on the flame and let the ingredients fly and land on the pan's heated surface. He hummed a familiar tune, hoping that Chuuya might remember its tune but to no avail.

Dazai arranged the food into a plate and went to the redhead, utensils in his other hand.

Without a word, he scooped a spoonful and brought it closer to Chuuya's mouth.

"Say ah~"

If anyone could see this kind of scenario, the brunet looks like he's feeding a 3-month old baby.

"Well, he's indeed a baby," Dazai said at the back of his mind while moving the spoon back and forth.

After that dinner, Dazai once again carried Chuuya to their bed. It's not that big, but not too small. Just enough for the two of them.

Dazai then wrapped his arms around Chuuya's body. To give him warmth, a human's warmth to liberate the coldness of the night.

With the brunet's slender arms encircled around the redhead's body, and Chuuya's head leaning against Dazai's shoulder, they fall asleep.

Almost at the same time.

***

For three years, the very same sequence of events happened.

Watching the sunrise and sunset together.

Helping him to eat his own food.

And then finally, cradling each other until they got consumed by the God of Sleep.

Have they grown tired of it, especially Dazai?

Even he doesn't know the answer. He was known as the Demon Prodigy of the Port Mafia, someone who can see through everything. But why can't his superior, almost inhumane mind comprehend this feeling of longing?

Longing for what?

Is it for the return of his ex-partner's glory or the longing to return to his old life?

Maybe, but maybe not.

Dazai thought that the same exact happenings will happen again for today, and the days after that.

But he's wrong.

On with their usual routine, they watch the sun's tiny movement, trying to pull itself up higher in the sky as if it's trying to assert dominance and power. Somehow, the sunrise resembles Dazai every time he rose to bed, struggling his way up like he was being pulled down by the Earth's gravity. To make it less fancy, he's just simply lazy.

"C-chuuya… Is that you?"

Dazai froze, literally.

T-that voice…

Dazai panned his head to where the sound originated.

"A-ane…san…"

Kouyou smiled, but there's hidden remorse in it. The intensity of her eyes changed the moment it landed on Chuuya's frail body.

She looked away and face the brunet once more.

"It's been a while, demon."

***

"So… You're still taking care of him?" Kouyou sat in one of the couches inside of their house.

"Mm…" A simple nod is the only response that he could offer. He's not in the right mood to entertain a conversation right now, especially to those with whom he had ties.

Despite his seemingly uninterested remarks, he's still on the lookout. Who knows? Kouyou might try to do something funny. As for Chuuya, he doubts that this woman will do such a thing.

"I see… I see…" At the same time, a mocking laugh escaped out of her lips. Dazai, on the other hand, painted confusion throughout his face.

"It's all your fault anyway. You've got to clean your own mess and atone with what you had done."

Dazai clenched his fist as tightly as he could.

"Why are you still taking care of him?"

Dazai's lips went agape, trying to utter a word or two but failed miserably.

Why then? What keeps him from escaping and leaving Chuuya behind?

He doesn't know.

"I…"

"Do you love him?" Kouyou's question streak kept on bugging Dazai's feelings.

Dazai's so sure of that fact not until Kouyou retorted once more.

"Or is it because of guilt?"

Guilt, huh?

The brunet said no more and silence governed the two of them.

"Now demon… Which one is it?"

***

Darkness… Just pure darkness…

Or at least, that's what Chuuya sees.

He can't feel anything, nor grasp reality. He's just there, floating in the middle of nothingness. But amidst that abyss, he can feel his bones cracking, his body collapsing, and his blood leaking out of his system. The pain must be immeasurable and unbearable but none of those physical pains can equal his suffering.

He hates the dark, the emptiness because it always made him feel alone.

He can hear a huge crowd of people screaming at the top of their lungs as if their lives are in danger of death.

Yes, that's actually the case.

They're fleeing, away from the young boy in the middle of that immense object and that enemy he's battling against.

Their abilities clashed and the fiery battle caused a deal of damage to the establishments and facilities in the city, but Chuuya came out victorious. Yokohama is safe once again. The civilians already evacuated, thus no casualties recorded.

Everything's fine now.

But Chuuya's still not.

He's on his limit, and his rampage will continue up to the end of his life.

He had already accepted his fate, that corruption will disappear along with his existence but a bandaged hand tamed him.

But it's already late.

Chuuya got hospitalized after that. His life was saved, but his nervous system was badly affected.

Dazai couldn't help but blame himself. He was doing a lot of paper works at the armed detective agency's office (forced by Kunikida of course) but the unexpected foe barged its way to Yokohoma without even knocking.

That's why he's late to arrive at the scene.

Why did Chuuya activate his corrupted form without him?

He's such an idiot, an utter idiot…

But he's far worse than that.

***

"Chuuya~ Let's go outside?" Dazai asked his ex-partner but the latter shook his head weakly, much to the former's surprise. It's the first time Chuuya declined his invitation.

Instead of going outside, Chuuya points his finger to their room's direction, by which, Dazai understood and followed. Maybe Chuuya is just sick of watching the sun's routinary motion every day or he just wants to rest.

To ease his boredom, Dazai cooked for their supper, but a creaking sound came out from Chuuya's location.

Dazai dropped the spatula in hand and sprinted to their bedroom only to find Chuuya scribbling something on a small piece of paper. Because of his malfunctioning muscles, the pen he used created a noise as it dropped on the floor.

"Chuuya? What are you doi-" Dazai is stopped dead in his tracks the moment he saw the letters inscribed on his paper. Beside the redhead is a small calendar with eighteen days crossed out for the month of June.

Today's June 19. Dazai's birthday.

"Ha…" Chuuya struggled to say something with his shivering and shaky voice. "Ha…ppy bir-th-da…y, sh-itt…y mac…ke-rel."

Dazai's heart starts to pound harder as if it wants to leap out of his ribcage. His head feels so fuzzy, but light at the time.

What's this feeling…?

Sadness?

Happiness?

Longing?

But Dazai knew that it's more than that.

"Now demon… Which one is it?"

"Ane-san… I already know the answer." He said at the back of his mind before embracing the redhead. He leaned closer to the former executive's ear and whispered, "Thank you, chibi."

Chuuya might not be able to restore his condition the way it once was but for Dazai, that doesn't matter now.

Whether Chuuya the petite mafia executive who kept on bickering with him back in the days or the Chuuya who's struggling to write a single sentence of greeting over a sheet of paper… Dazai's always fond of him, whatever the version.

And that will not change until the end of time.

-END-

#dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #soukoku #double black #dazai x chuuya #bungo stray dogs

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fanfics4all · 4 years

Text

Painless

Request: Yes / No

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3200

Warnings: SCHOOL BOMBING, CURSING, it’s criminal minds so read at your own risk!

Y/N: Your Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

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Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Another day at work. Another day of someone dead. I thought as I walked into the office. I saw everyone was already in the round table room and sighed. Another case. I put my stuff down at my desk and walked into the room. I took my seat next to my boyfriend Spencer and gave a smile at everyone.

“Does anyone remember this picture?” Garcia asked, bringing up a picture of a man and a girl looking distressed.

“Hotch and I were there. That’s Principal Doug Gavens. We had to drag him to safety.” Rossi said, making everyone look at him.

“High school bombing in Boise, right?” Emily asked.

“School shooter and school bomber.” JJ said and it triggered my memory.

“A kid named Randy Slade shot three students and then set off an I.E.D. in the cafeteria via cell phone, killing himself and thirteen kids total, but not before posting all his plans online.” I said and Garcia nodded.

“It was one of those “Where were you?” events. My whole campus was glued to the T.V..” JJ said.

“Last night, Principal Givens was killed by a bomb modeled exactly like the old one.” Garcia said.

“It feels like the unsub wants to attack the man who kept the school together after the bombing. It’s a pretty symbolic target.” Morgan said.

“And this week is the tenth anniversary of the massacre.” Hotch said.

“And today is the first day of a four day event to commemorate the bombing at the school.” Garcia said.

“Except commemorating it isn’t enough for this unsub.” Emily said.

“No. He wants to relive it.” Hotch said. We gathered our things and got on the plane. We were all sitting down and going over the case files.

“Perpetrators of school violence are often sophisticated with their weapons. Randy Slade carried his bomb in his backpack. This guy hid his in Givens’ clock radio.” Spencer said.

“Yeah, and progressive. Each one tries to top the body count of the one previous.”

“And they’re loners by default, not by choice. They try to join various social groups, but they get shut out.” JJ said.

“Randy Slade wasn’t a loner at all.” Hotch said.

“The family cooperated fully with us. He was a high-functioning psychopath, straight-A student, varsity wrestler, lots of girlfriends.” Rossi said.

“With an above-average intelligence that made him incredibly resourceful. His explosive of choice was Semtex.” I said looking at the files.

“It’s found at demolition sites, but it’s held under lock and key.” Spencer said.

“Which made us consider the possibility of a partner. Never found one.” Rossi said.

“Slade was too much of a narcissist to share credit. But he was also an impulsive teen, which is what bothers me about this unsub.” Hotch said.

“His sense of control?” Emily asked.

“And the end game that he’s working toward.” Hotch answered with a nod.

“Slade’s pathology revolved around the big kill. This unsub could have done the same if he’d waited for the candlelight vigil.” Hotch added.

“Which means there’s no blaze of glory fantasy here. This unsub has more bombs made, and he’s savoring the anticipation of his next attack.” Rossi said. After we talked everyone moved to their own spots to think and relax before we had the hard work to do. I sat next to Spencer and smiled at him.

“This poor town.” I said and he sighed.

“I know, but the odds are against them in this situation.” He said and I nodded.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean it sucks any less.” I said and he nodded.

“It’s a hard thing to deal with.” He said.

“Yeah…” I sighed. We tried to keep our minds on things that would help us, instead of how much people were hurting right now.

As soon as we landed we dropped our stuff off at our hotel then split up. Hotch and Rossi went to the station with Emily and Morgan. Spencer, JJ and I went to the crime scene. We walked inside and it was a mess, not shocking though considering what happened.

“Okay, so the unsub has to be tied to the school somehow, right?” JJ asked.

“Current student, alumni, family member who lost someone…” I listed off.

“It could be Slade groupies celebrating his hero. He taped nails to the exterior of the bomb, specifically to rip open flesh. That’s a sadistic detail of Slade’s the unsub copied.” Spencer said.

“Except he tricked Givens into blowing himself up. A groupie probably wouldn’t show that much self-control.” JJ said.

“But someone with an ax to grind against the principal would. Maybe he’s a surrogate for the tomenters in high school he can’t punish.” Spencer said.

“Who were yours?” He asked us.

“I don’t even remember.” JJ answered.

“You don’t even remember? Wait, were you one of those mean girls?” Spencer questioned.

“No.” JJ said.

“Valedictorian, soccer scholarship, corn-fed, but still a size zero. I think that you might have been a mean girl.” Spencer said.

“Spence.” I said.

“I was actually one of the nice girls, even to guys like you.” JJ answered and I shook my head. There was no stopping this now.

“Guys like me? I’ll have you know that my social standing increased once I started winning at basketball.” Spencer said, I always forget that he coached basketball.

“Oh yeah? You played basketball?” JJ asked.

“Actually he coached it.” I answered.

“You coached it?” She asked.

“Yeah, I broke down the opposing team’s shooting strategy.” He said.

“Is that why Morgan kicked you two out of the pool last week?” She asked.

“Yeah, it took him three rounds to realize we were hustling him.” I answered with a laugh.

“Huh.” She said and we went back to looking at the crime scene. As soon as we were done looking we got a call about another murder. So we made our way there. The three of us looked around and JJ decided to call Hotch and tell him.

“You’re on speaker JJ.” Hotch answered.

“So, we might have another one.” She said.

“Might?” He asked.

“One of the North Valley alumni was killed in her motel room.” She answered.

“No bomb or gun this time. Looks like he used his bare hands.” I added.

“You got a name?” Hotch asked.

“Chelsea Grant.” Spencer answered.

The next day Spencer and I returned to the crime scene with Hotch. It was good to come back and look at it with fresh eyes.

“The unsub crushed Chelsea’s throat so she couldn’t scream, then he pulverized her ribs, sending fragments of bone into her heart.” Spencer said.

“Principal Givens was high-profile. Chelsea wasn’t. Right now the only thing connecting them is they’re both on the kill list.” Hotch said.

“A list that Brandon kept secret for ten years, but he was in custody when this happened. So the question is, how did the unsub get the exact same list?” I asked.

“Well, we ruled out a partner, but not conclusively.” Hotch said.

“Slade made every part of his plan public. It doesn’t make sense that he would hide a partner.” Spencer said.

“He didn’t want to share the credit. And this weekend is the partner’s best chance to claim it.” Hotch said.

“Let’s go back to the station, we have a profile to deliver.” He said and we followed him.

When we got back to the station we gathered everyone up and we were ready to deliver the profile.

“Partners of dominant psychopaths are usually submissive, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t be intelligent or that they’re physically weak.” Hotch said.

“This unsub laid low after the bombing and successfully evaded police and FBI. That took cunning and patience, which he’s exhibiting now with his current murders.” Morgan said.

“We think he fits the loner profile Slade debunked. He grew up in an abusive home, which kept him from forming the normal social bonds in high school.” JJ said.

“We interviewed all the outcasts from back then. How did this guy slip through?” Chief Cole asked.

“Even outcasts eventually form friendships. But this unsub was the outcast the outcasts rejected.” Spencer said.

“Exactly, he won’t stand out in any capacity, and as a matter of fact, most of his fellow students probably won’t even remember graduating with him.” I said.

“And that invisibility is what made him attractive to Slade. This partner wouldn’t steal the spotlight.” Rossi said.

“Slade targeted the cafeteria because most of the names on his list ate there together during fifth period.” Spencer said.

“So his hatred festered when the names on the list emerged from the cafeteria as media heroes. And now he wants to finish the job that Randy started.” Morgan said.

“Emotionally, this weekend is more a high school reunion to him than a memorial. We go to reunions to show who we grew up to be. Often that means changing everything about who we were.” Rossi said.

“Consciously or not, Randy Slade revealed clues as to his partner’s identity when he detonated his bomb. Agent Prentiss will be conducting cognitive interviews to see what the survivors might remember.” Hotch said. We answered a few questions the cops had then went on to try and work out who this guy could be. Emily was with the survivors now working on them.

“So, as you can see from your board there, this kill list is weirdly similar to high school.

“Group on is like the popular kids, prom court, football team, dean’s list. The Heathers, if you will.” Garcia said.

“Kids in Slade’s social circle.” Hotch said.

“What about number two?” JJ asked.

“Uh, mmhmm, that would be the kids from the other side of the tracks, 180-degree difference, kids this close to getting kicked out, Stoners, burnouts, mental cases. Chelsea Grant is on this list.” Garcia said.

“Maybe Slade targeted them because they disgusted him?” JJ asked while Spencer’s phone was ringing. We have been doing a lot of that since we got here.

“But they didn’t threaten Slade’s sense of superiority. He wouldn’t have even cared about them.” Hotch said as we ignored Spencer’s phone.

“So maybe the partner put them on the list. They’d be closer to his social status than Slade’s.” I said as Spencer’s phone stopped ringing.

“Why would the-” Spencer was cut off by his phone ringing again.

“I’m so sorry.” He said, taking his phone out and hung up.

“Why would the unsub list kids that he fit in with?” Spencer asked, putting his phone away again.

“Apparently that’s how this clique worked. The kids in it were meaner to each other than kids on the outside. Garcia, separate out all the kids who got into trouble regularly. Then eliminate the names that the partner put on the list. Now, who’s left that came to the memorial?” Hotch asked.

“Right. Whoever made the list wouldn’t put their name on it. Uh… sir, I think- I think I’ve got him. His name is Lewis Ramsey.” Garcia said.

“Where is he?” Hotch asked.

“Uhh… According to his cell phone he’s at a local bar.” She answered.

“Send it to Morgan’s phone.” Hotch ordered and called him. Morgan brought him in and him and Hotch started interviewing him. Once they were done they told the rest of us.

“You buy it?” Emily asked.

“He fits the profile, and the evidence points to him, but he seems sincere.” Hotch said.

“He’s not the unsub. He was the partner, but look at how Slade added “All the losers in this Godforsaken school.” This capitalization isn’t an accident. Look.” Spencer said and wrote it on the white board.

“L-S-R, Lewis Stuart Ramsey.” He said.

“So Slade named his own partner.” I said.

“Ironically, Lewis’ marijuana addiction saved his life.” He said with a nod.

“Well, that puts us back to our original problem. If the unsub isn’t the partner, how did he get his hands on a list that Slade and Lewis kept to themselves?” I asked.

“The only answer is that part of the profile is wrong. The unsub’s vendetta has nothing to do with the list. Did you get anything from Jerry Holtz?” Hotch asked Emily.

“Only that he mixed up the cell phones that Slade used. It felt like he was making the story up, but I only had a hunch.” Emily said.

“We need to find him now. There’s a connection to the victimology that we’re missing. Whatever he’s holding back might be the key.” Hotch said. We found Jerry, but he was dead. He was killed at the school. We made our way there and Emily met us there.

“Jerry Holtz? How long?” She asked.

“Less than an hour. Security guard heard the commotion, but the unsub was already gone.” JJ answered.

“The only people who knew we were doing the cognitive interviews were the other survivors. The unsub must be part of that group.” Emily said.

“Well, we don’t know that for a fact. He could have been lying in wait.” I said.

“Look, Hotch wants me to go through the victims’ lives and find the overlaps. We can compare their histories with the unsub’s.” JJ said.

“What else do we have to go on?” Emily asked, looking at Spencer and I.

“Spence said the unsub would have broken his hand beating Chelsea to death. Did you notice anyone with a cast on their hand, someone who seemed hurt?” JJ asked.

“No.” Emily shook her head.

“I might know why.” Spencer said and we all looked at him.

“This unsub doesn’t feel pain.” He said.

“You mean he has pain asymbolia?” I asked and he nodded.

“We need to get back to the station. Spencer told them about his theorie and no one understood what he was saying.

“In english for the other people in the room.” Morgan asked.

“There’s a medical condition called pain asymbolia, where patients register harmful stimuli without being bothered by it. They’ve been documented holding their hand over an open flame because their brain doesn’t send pain signals to the central nervous system.” Spencer explained.

“Sounds pretty rare. You sure the unsub has it?” Rossi asked.

“The crime scenes prove it. Once Spencer said it, everything clicked. He displayed an unusual level of savagery towards his victims. And consider this, he smashed through a glass display case, but there were no cuts on Jerry. That means he most likely punched through it as a show of force.” I said.

“Now, the only way the human body could withstand that level of pain is if he couldn’t feel it at all.” Spencer added.

“It must take a major toll on someone’s emotional development.” Rossi said and Spencer’s phone rang… again.

“A significant contributor to our sense of empathy is the way we personally experience pain.” Morgan said and Spencer silenced his phone again.

“And the unsub didn’t develop his sense of empathy because it was cut off. Does every person with Asymbolia have this?” Hotch asked.

“Actually, most feel empathy just fine, which makes me think the rest of our profile is still accurate. Loner, invisible, outcast, boiling rage- Son of a bitch!” Spencer said, pulling out his ringing cell phone and answered it. I notice Morgan trying to hide a smirk.

“Hi! This is Dr. Spencer Reid. I actually can come to the phone right now with a very special message that your mother is-”

“Reid.” Hotch cut him off and he hung up.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I don’t know what got into me. Where were we?” He asked, putting his phone away.

“I’m going to have Garcia check medical records. Uh, what causes Asymbolia?” Hotch asked.

“Ssss- Severe trauma produces lesions on the insular cortex, usually after a stroke but this unsub’s so young, it’s most likely caused by an external factor.” Spencer said looking at Morgan the whole time.

“Like a bomb going off next to him?” Rossi asked.

“Yeah, like a bomb going off next to him.” He repeated at Morgan. Morgan just smirked and Hotch walked off to talk to Garcia.

“I will crush you.” Spencer whispered.

“What?” Morgan asked.

“What?” Spencer repeated and walked off. I looked at Rossi and shook my head with a smirk.

“You two are seriously pranking each other while on a case?” I asked and Morgan just smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said and I shook my head again. I swear these two…

JJ and Emily came by a little later with some new information. JJ was rearranging some pictures on the board. We looked on with confusion.

“Recognize the top ten?” JJ asked.

“No.” Hotch answered.

“They were the students that went in front of the cameras after the bombing.” She answered.

“I thought all the surviving students were interviewed?” I asked.

“After the initial aftermath, yes, but these are the kids that went on talk shows, traveled to other schools. My guess is that they didn’t self-select who made the cut.” JJ said.

“Principal Givens did.” Hotch said.

“That’s why the unsub killed him first. He was an outcast who wanted to fit in. Being a survivor should have been his golden ticket.” She said.

“But he was excluded again, and that’s why he’s killing them.” I said.

“Yeah. The rules of high school never changed, not even after a tragedy.” JJ said. Hotch’s phone rang and he put it on speaker.

“Go ahead, Garcia.” He said.

“Hey, listen up. I crossed-referenced student files with medical records. Now, there were six kids that were knocked unconscious in that blast, but only one fit the outcast profile. His name is Robert Adams, and he just used his credit card at a local restaurant, the address of which I just sent you right now.” She said.

“I’m on my way.” Hotch said looking at us. Hotch gathered everyone up and JJ and I stayed back. When they came back Robert wasn’t with them. Hotch had to shoot him, there was no other way this was going to end. Once we got everything sorted we got on the plane to go home. I was sitting next to Spencer, who was resting his head on my shoulder while I read a book. We were sitting across from Morgan and Emily, Morgan was listening to music and Emily was reading a paper. He took his headphones off and we heard Spencer screaming from them.

“Okay, kid, that was cute. But that’s all you got?” Morgan asked him, he was very clearly pretending to be asleep. Morgan’s cell ran and he answered it.

“Hey baby girl-” He was cut off by Spencer screaming coming through his phone. Spencer had a smile on his face and Rossi held up a white napkin.

“Uh-uh. Alright, Reid, it’s on. Just know that paybacks are a bitch.” Morgan said. Spencer just responded with snoring. I shook my head at the two of them.

“You started this Morgan, it’s your own fault.” I said with a slight laugh.

“Of course you’re taking his side, Y/N.” He rolled his eyes.

“Well I am dating him, so yes I’m taking his side.” I said and Rossi chuckled.

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#Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x fem!reader #fanfic #criminal minds bingo 2020 #painless

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thetorchwoodnineroleplayerwriter · 4 years

Text

Popular!Luz AU concept post

This au concept is something me, @crispyclown , and @molotov-does-stuff worked out together on @pastatiger ‘s TOH discord.

The basic concept is “what if Luz never did become friends with Willow and actually did become popular” based on an offhanded comment from boscha in ‘Understanding Willow’ that went to the effect of “that human could have been popular if she wasn’t hanging out with Willow”.

Here’s all the headcanons we’ve all put together:

Timeline:

1) 'teenage abomination' never happens. Luz just has a boring day and becomes vaguely aware of Hexside.

2) during ’Covention’, Amity and Luz meet for the first time. They don’t hit it off but they don’t not hit it off either. After the Lilith speech, Amity still steps on King’s cupcake, but it’s completely by accident. Amity tries to ‘keep up appearances as a Blight’ and ends up accidentally insulting Luz and King while attempting to apologize. Luz ultimately still has the “Bog of Immediate Regret” line, but Amity doesn’t really care one way or the other, so she nearly says ‘you read Azura too?!’ Before instead accepting. Amity and Luz’s bet is pretty low stakes — Amity apologizes to king if she loses, Luz apologizes to Amity if she loses, maybe? But Eda and Lillith get waaaay into the bet and both sides cheat as canon. Amity still breaks down when the construction glyph is revealed, but Luz formally concedes anyways (with low stakes she doesn’t have any serious need to win, and she still would rather be this girl’s friend than her enemy), citing their own relative skill levels, before going and talking to Amity. Amity is still DISTRAUGHT about the whole ordeal, but she and Luz have a much more in-depth heart-to-heart, where Luz explains what she did, tells Amity how cool Luz thinks she is, and manages to tell her the “I’m not a witch, but… I’m training to be one“ line. Amity leaves Luz with the line, ‘they say humans can't learn any magic. But... I don't think that's going to stop you.' And… they’re, maybe friends? Unclear friends? Probably just acquaintances but the point is its nonnegative relationship development.

3) ‘Hooty's Moving Hassle' is removed.

4) in ‘Lost in Language’, Luz is still a little over-friendly with Amity (Amity respects her for serious but also She Has A Reputation, Luz) when they meet in the library. Luz still gets sucked in to the twins’ chaotic energy, and Luz still thinks hanging out with them will somehow translate to brownie points with Amity. When Amity walks in on them in the secret room, she’s much more visibly and viscerally betrayed by (what she thinks) Luz did. However after saving themselves from evil Otabin, Luz does convince her the twins tricked her, they book trade as canon, Amity actually clearly thinks of Luz as a friend at the end of it all.

5) the moonlight conjuration incident happens after the library incident. Amity spins a BS story about Luz being a skilled witch to her parents and invites her to the conjuring. While initially their conjuring goes as canon (ie nowhere), Luz turns it to a regular party with Boscha, Skara, Amity, and herself. (and Cat, i think? Whoever their canon fourth was, she’s still here.) Eventually they try again, and since (in this au) the conjuring's power == your conjuring group's friendship's strength, and everyone here is at least somewhat friends with luz now, they do manage to animate a few things.

6) at some point here, Luz, Boscha, and Skara team up for a pickup game of grudgeby, and Luz learns the fireball glyph.

7) During ‘Once Upon a Swap', both Skara and Boscha notice how out of character King!Luz is acting. They can admit King!Luz is being cool, if a lil dorky, but they have an out-of-character moment where Boscha tries to ask 'Luz' if she's okay. King doesn't get it, but the others walk in on it so Boscha resumes acting like a challenged alpha bitch. (Luz eventually explains to Skara what was goin on that day. Luz ‘conveniently’ never got the chance to clue Boscha in.)

8) at some point around here, Luz manages to get Eda to enroll her in Hexside.

9) 'adventures in the elements' is changed bc Luz does know two glyphs. However, She and Amity want to hang out some more and Amity thought Luz's fire glyph could help her learn the fireball spell, so they still go to the knee together (with Eda, Emira, and Edric as terrible excuses for chaperones.) Luz learns the ice spell under Eda’s somewhat hands-off tutelage, possibly after accidentally angering the Slitherbeast as in canon.

10) In ‘First Day', Boscha is looking forward to finally getting a read on this girl who wormed her way straight into Amity's heart. (she's not jealous. nuhuh. not even a little. YOU’RE jealous!) Luz still immediately gets Detention'd, tho, but this time Amity and Boscha show up to bust her out unprompted, leading to a VERY awkward moment where Viney (and Jerbo and Barcus) refuse to trust Luz on the basis that Boscha and Amity are her friends, and both of them are notorious jerks who would ABSOLUTELY bully the DT kids. Amity has to duck out for her performance tho. the episode concludes as canon.

11) we get an extended time where we see how Luz easily makes friends with almost everyone at Hexside. She's friend-shaped and she gets a HUGE popularity boost for being honest friends with Skara and Amity. (she gets rancid vibes from Boscha when they’re at school together, but she can't put her finger on *why*. and besides, Boscha calls Luz her friend too, so that probably counts.) during this time Luz meets Gus, who is one of E&E's classmates. Gus can have an episode, as a treat.

12) Luz finally meets Willow, and gets slapped in the face HARD with confirmation that Amity and Boscha are kind of massive assholes. Luz tries to befriend Willow, but Willow refuses to trust her due to how often Boscha, Amity, and the rest of the popular girls who make up most of Luz’s closer friend group have bullied her.

13) Luz tries to get Boscha to take it down a notch. Boscha takes it up a notch. Luz tries to get Amity to help, Amity asks why it matters — it’s just ‘half a witch willow’, no one cares. Luz realizes, awkwardly (and probably with the assistance of Jerbo and/or Barcus), that while she currently has a lot a friends and is popular, if she defends Willow from Boscha’s bullying she’ll lose a lot of her popularity. Luz kind of has a small breakdown over this, because she doesn’t want to risk friends here when in the human world she has so few, but at the same time, she has Principles! She can’t just ignore this! As one of her schemes to help Willow without going against Boscha directly, Luz manages to get Willow transferred out of Abominations, although Willow is kinda annoyed by this since even though she’s in plant track she feels a stranger. (This alienation eventually goes away, but not before…) 

14) Luz snaps and punches Boscha in the face one day for bullying Willow once too many times. Boscha gets PISSED and Luz is NOT BACKING DOWN, even though she’s scared. Boscha basically exiles Luz from the friend group, which has the added effect of making almost all of Luz’s friends stop talking to her, most painfully Skara and Amity. Willow starts to tolerate her, but only barely. (Gus is still Luz’s friend tho. In fact, Gus, the DT kids, and E&E Are the only Hexside students at this point who’ll be caught dead with Luz.) 

15) ‘Understanding Willow’ Is changed; Luz catches Amity burning up Willow’s memories. However, since Amity, Luz, and Willow are distinctly *not* talking to each other, the quest to save Willow’s mind is *much* more tense. Luz keeps taking potshots at Amity for abandoning the both of them, Inner Willow hates both of them, and Amity is trying desperately not to have fun with people who hate her and also trying desperately to defend her actions. Amity still reveals the same secret of the day she stopped being Willow’s friend; Luz, meanwhile, reveals some bad memories of her own human school that make it very obvious how much the chance to be popular meant to her and how she genuinely empathizes with Willow’s whole situation. Ultimately ends with a bit of a tense moment between the three where they admit they’re not friends yet… but at the very least they’re all willing to be friends, now.

16) We get some time watching Luz slowly re-making her friends throughout the school, as people decide they really do like Willow and Luz as people and they’re kinda tired of Boscha been an alpha bitch. Maybe spliced with Willow & Luz & Amity hangin out, being friendly, or with Boscha been salty and Skara et al. being here by obligation even though they *clearly* wanna hang out with Luz some more.

17) ‘Wing It Like Witches’ happens largely beat for beat here. Boscha attempts to re-assert social dominance, Luz invokes the sacred rites of a game of grubby with a bet, Luz tries to get Willow and Gus in for it but Gus can’t and Willow won’t; Amity talks Willow into forming a 3 person team with her. Extra angst from the fact that Boscha and Luz did actually have some bonding over being on the same team on an earlier grubby game.

18) Grom happens now, largely as canon. When preparing Luz for the main fight, Amity theorizes (incorrectly) that Luz’s greatest fear is losing her friends on the boiling isles; Luz goes along with it, because ‘I already faced that fear once this year, it’ll be a cinch’. Grom tries it but it doesn’t work, but then from turns into her mom. (We see Amity nearly cry from Grom turning into her, but realizes what’s going on, and then has a massive blush from being called ‘her’ Amity. Skara rolls her eyes, bc she’s been clued in. Boscha is deliberately not caring.)

20) Boscha eventually gets to the point where she decides to apologize to Willow. She starts with a BS ‘lol sry’ approach, ends with a record-scratch-sudden rant where Boscha really does break it — and herself — down in honest apology. Some of the bad attempts are played for comedy, this one played completely straight.

Miscellanious other elements:

Unrequited Boschamity / exes Boschamity, boscha has cool banter with her friends (mildly platonic boschluz banter, snarky boschamity banter, member boschkara banter, etc), Boscha being really jealous of Luz, Everyone — EVERYONE — pines at Skara, Luz also pines at willow eventually, BOSCHA ACTUALLY GETS A REDEMPTION ARC AND ITS WELL WRITTEN AND NO ITS NOT IN SERVICE OF A SHIP, Boscha::Azula Amity::Zuko wrt redemption arcs, Boscha joins the inevitable rebellion as one of those ‘everyone in public thinks I’m an enemy of the rebellion so I can help them out real nice in the DL’ people, and yes we ARE overthrowing the government at some point in this au just not right now, right now we’re having ANGST and LUMITY, boscha is actually very nice to her friends when she wants to be she just usually doesn’t feel like she Should Be Vulnerable, any episode that’s just ‘Luz With Willow And/or Gus doing Hijinks’ (ex ‘Really Small Problems’, ‘Something Ventured, Someone Framed’) that hasn’t already been mapped to an event in this timeline is skipped completely, yes that means Mathholomule successfully becomes president of the human club, none of this aus cast is actually friends with him tho don’t worry, Edric has been quietly dating Jerbo for a while now but his sisters don’t know, Emira is a disaster lesbian for Viney and the teasing is relentless, Emira is a terminal prankster with a maladapted sense of boundaries as a result of her parents, this is a point of contention for her courtship of Viney who can and will go OFF on her for crossing the line and not feeling guilty, Edric is very aware of boundaries but he also finds looking to her for direction gets him in trouble the least at home so he just feels terrible afterwards and tries to get Emira to tone it down and/or apologize, basically the library incident was her idea in this au and he went along with it because of blight child optics stuff, Luz’s memory may out Luz to Willow and Amity, Willow and Amity absolutely say ‘gay rights’, in fact the entire isle says ‘gay rights’, this au tricks you into thinking ‘oh easy lumity’ but then Willow comes in like a wrecking ball, during that murky period when Luz’s friends all hate her bc she punched boscha all the people still willing to talk to her get friendly REAL fast, yes that includes willow and amity once they all stop hating each other, nobody lets Amity live down “Oh, wow,,, sports” except Luz who didn’t get it, Everyone has a song assigned to them at the sleepover, Luz’s is Bad Reputation, Skara’s is Caramelldansen, Boscha’s is Money Machine, Amity’s is Eminence Front because I say so

#the owl house #toh #toh luz #toh amity #toh skara #toh boscha #toh willow #toh au #feel free to use #but please tell us #also feel free to comment

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tsubaki3192 · 4 years

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250+ Follower HCs! Spending Time With Their Kids [Nobunaga, Kenshin, Yukimura

Requested by: @nad-zeta

Aww Thank you so much Love! <3

Yuki added on her request! :3

Warnings: .... YUki’s became crack I’m so sorry... so I’m putting that at the beginning lol

Tags underneath cut! Let me know if you wanna be (un)tagged! :3

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

Yukimura:

a…. Girl?

Hmm… I dunno. Haven’t put much thought into this one. But it’d be funny if his child was a girl.

He… Doesn’t know how to react to his baby girl.

Maybe it’s bc he has no idea how to treat her, but when she’s a baby, he does talk and interact with her more

Okay, let’s timeskip to the future and your daughter is now…. 7.

Yukimura probably has a tendency to avoid girls other than MC, and I think that also goes with his daughter… Not because he doesn’t like her, but because he has no idea how to care for her.

She grows up with a ton of toys… But….

QUESTION WHY ‘Daddy won’t spend time with me’

YOU’RE LIVID- Tbh, I would smack him for that and Shingen or Sasuke wouldn’t even be able to hold her back, and Kenshin would be impressed….

He does end up spending time with her tho.

It’s awkward at first

And then he opens up, even if he’s grumbling about the messy makeup and mess at the end of the day.

It’s not surprising that since Yuki wasn’t in her life, she usually goes to Shingen for help bc he’s been so open

Yuki actually cries at that, but only with you… there was this one time she actually caught him crying, so she started crying and it became this mess of “Stop crying” “no u-”

They bond pretty quickly after that lol

LOts of outings and helping Yuki to sell goods :3

Any piggy backs

Yes.

Lots of piggy backs

He has become so cute wtf

Kenshin:

A boy…. then a girl... I think.

So I stan an overprotective father here for his daughter, in the very least.

That’s not because his son is ‘too weak’- It’s the fact that culturally and in that time period, he’s supposed to be the stronger one.

Kenshin teaches him the art of sword-fighting from the age of 5, but soon realises that he’s much more into Senbon and, well… Flowery stuff. It’s good, in a way, since his son has quite the feminine face shape and your eyes. It’s a very good thing, actually. He’d make a successful ninja-

So that’s what he becomes, xD

Together with Sasuke, Kenshin trains him in the art of ninja skills. It’s significantly more interesting to him, maybe because you’ve told him random stories you’ve read from your time.

There’s fluff time too- You pretty much bring all the warlords together and teach them how to sew. Yuki too, because Shingen and you have told him it’s the exact same thing as sewing a wound and practice is good.

Kenshin’s baby girl is a complete treat to the whole family.

You know she’s bound to be spoiled in the same way as you- With probably twice as much gifts as he gives you, and his special fatherly-love.

“I hope you remember she’s a baby, Kenshin… No stop- A dagger isn’t suitable for a baby-”

So it’s a lot of cooing, playing with toys given to her by both Shingen and Kenshin and cuddles…

YES CUDDLES ARE EVERYTHING-

Ironically or not, the boy also becomes protective of his mother and his younger sister, no matter how young he is. He’s spent quite a bit of time with Kenshin, after all.

Ngl, but I think when the girl is older, she’s not gonna like the over-protectiveness. So expect a lot of ninja work by her brother, joined by Sasuke bc Kenshin doesn’t trust everyone to be safe xD

She still, notices them tho….

*Cue scolding by Daughter bc of of irritation*

MC does nothing to help bc they honestly deserved it xD

Nobunaga:

A son… I mean what did you expect?

So Nobunaga and his son are the most endearingly domineering… pair?

I mean your son’s personality stems directly from Nobunaga, despite having your looks and that does make you wonder why, since you spend the most time with him.

Nobunaga’s probably the busiest man on Earth. So when he does find time to spend with his son, they’re the most mischievous pair. You’re not even surprised when Masamune joins in one day, with Mitsuhide just chucking away at the sight.

Hideyoshi doesn’t even try when they get to this messy point, and to be fair neither do you. If you stopped them, they’d casually rope you into the mess.

You’ve long learnt to leave them be when they’re like this.

You pretty much take over the castle when they’re playing- Can’t have the castle’s structure falling apart because of a handful of idiots, right?

Hideyoshi still hasn’t learnt his lesson, it seems-

The two of them are always thieving konpeito from the kitchens and screwing around the castle in the most ridiculous ways.

You swore they had somehow once gotten hold of some black paint (or was that charcoal?), only to end up fully covered in the colour…

You only found out after nearly giving Nobunaga a back massage- His back was COVERED in the pigment. Obviously, your son had dropped a handful and some down his clothes and back.

Honestly? You just sighed at their antics and dragged him by the ear to the bathhouse. And you can’t even say anything when he drags you in, fully clothed.

When Nobunaga does spend time with his son, the adrenaline and joy just lasts until the following morning when he’s slept it off. It’s very different from the type of adrenaline from war- Less stress and fear, and more joy and… out of control actions.

So expect an extremely hyper Nobunaga when you both retire to your bedroom…

Mitsuhide:

A girl. I don’t budge. … Okay, maybe a baby boy in the future, but for now? Just a baby girl.

So Mitsuhide’s one of those ‘I-never-expected-to-be-this-happy’ or ‘I-never-expected-to-one-day-have-a-family-of-my-own’ warlords.

So when you announce you were having a baby, he just… freezes. Like one of those signature ‘holy-crap-what’ freezes.

He’s so silent you swore you broke him. But when you reach out to press a hand against his cheek, he turns, presses a deep, loving kiss to your palm. He’s exceptionally gentle with you now as he draws you to his chest, thanking you for every miracle you’ve given him.

So I also headcannon that Mitsuhide’s the epitome of practicality y’all… Like he’s so busy he doesn’t have time for anything he deems ‘useless’... or will he buy things that will never be used.

So expect some gender-neutral toys and tiny clothes for your young one, even before she’s born.

Did I mention he’s also quite protective of you? That doubles or triples when he finds out you’re pregnant. And again, when he finds out it’s a girl after birth.

Literally. It has to be either him or Kyubei with you and the ‘little one’. AT ALL TIMES.

Mitsuhide’s the only one he’ll allow to care for the your- and his- daughter when you’re busy with something. On occasion, it’s Kyubei, but it does mean that he and his daughter must be in the same room.

More than often, this ends up with Mitsuhide being W E A K for his daughter’s laugh and dropping his work- That can always be finished later, after all.

Dress up. Make up. Toys. Games. Anything. Mitsuhide would literally kill for some time with his daughter.

When she was younger, Mitsuhide used to cradle her against his chest, whispering sweet stories or singing to her as she giggled from the vibration of his low voice.

Now that she’s older, he spends his time with her carefully. Teaching her with gentle teasing- Something she’s become accustomed to

NGL, but Kyubei ends up being her ‘older brother’ figure when she grows up.

The look on Mitsuhide’s face when she says she wants to marry Kyubei is gold.

Just don’t let Masamune hear okay?

Tagging: @tsuki-no-usagiii @unstoppablelinda @zavannahmj @nad-zeta @thesirenwashere @ikemenmitsuhide @choi-jiyu @nuttytani

#250+ Followers Celebration #Ikemen Sengoku #Mitsuhide #Kenshin #Yukimura #Nobunaga

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peterpan-ouat-imagines · 3 years

Text

In Hell I Will: Part 3

I’m sooo sorry for such a delay on posting this. I was on winter break and did not mean to post so late! I am much more active now please forgive me!

Prompt number 29: He doesn’t need to know

Warning: Smut

We all go to the sorcerers mansion which is huge and gorgeous. Each room is designed fabulous and with detail and tons and tons of shelves filled with books in other rooms and nooks. We go so we can look for the book and me and Henry are assigned “lookout” I feel pathetic, Cruella is right, I do have no clue what I’m doing.

“Y/n, come with me I want you to help me find the quill,” Henry tells me.

“You want me to join you? What about yesterday? I thought you have to take care of this quill business alone?” I ask kind of angry.

“That was different, Cruella wanted me to be alone and I didn’t know what was going to happen,” he pauses for a moment, “You could have gotten hurt,” he tells me.

I freeze when he talks about being concerned for my safety which makes me feel better, “Okay fine, it’s okay, but will you at least explain what happened?” I ask, “I almost went to follow you but decided to do otherwise,” I tell him.

We start walking around and he explains how he is the sorcerers unfinished business and has to do the right thing about recording stories rather than writing new ones.

“I think I see something!” he walks over to a lamp and grabs a pen and ink hidden on the inside.

Later that night Henry runs upstairs upset which is weird. I don’t think anything I said was offensive. Either way, I go after him.

“Henry, talk to me,” I tell him.

He doesn’t answer.

“Okay you don’t have to talk. Let me. I haven’t had such a great day. I don’t know what I should do to help ever and have no one to guide me. I don’t belong here. Back where I’m from I’m used to doing what is right. But being here in the underworld and saving people I don’t know what decisions I make will be a mistake. The only people I’ve met here so far I can talk to about stuff like this is you and Hook. My point is, you have a whole family of people to talk to, I never had that. I’ll go now,” I head to the ladder to crawl down.

“Y/n wait,” he stands up and goes to hug me, “Thank you, and I’ll try to include you from now on,” he goes down the ladder and I follow him. He tells everyone about the quill and what we found.

A couple days later Belle somehow falls through a portal along with Zelena and “her baby.” the quotation marks is because she is the biological mother yet Regina has taken the responsibilities of that role and I don’t think that will change.

“Henry, y/n, I need you to get me something from Rumple’s shop. I would do it but I need to help find Robin’s baby,” Henry agrees for us and we head there.

Me and Henry walk towards Main Street in silence which starts to get awkward, “Can we talk about what you said the other day?” I ask.

“About what?” he asks.

“You said that you didn’t want me to get hurt and were worried about what would happen if I went on your secret operation,” I remind him.

“Oh yeah,” he blushes softly, “I just care about you. I wanted you to know that,” he tells me.

I kiss his cheek.

We continue walking and finally arrive. We walk in.

So Belle said we needed a certain book from his shop. What was it called?” I ask him.

“Her Handsome Hero“ he answers.

I go in the back and he stays in the front to look around. I flip through the shelves looking at the books and in cabinets and all through all the elaborate antiques.

“You just couldn’t stay away could you?” I hear a familiar British accent say.

“Pan I did not come here for you, I came here for other reasons,” I tell him as I stay focused and don’t look at him.

For a moment it is only silence besides the sounds of books moving, “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he tells me.

I stop what I’m doing for a moment when he says that in shock but then walk to the other side of the room still not looking at him.

“Y/n, look at me,” he says firmly but I don’t. After a moment he pulls my shoulder so I’m facing him and I’m staring in his gorgeous green eyes. After a moment I see them trail down to my lips and I can feel the sexual tension between us starting to build.

“Henry is in the next room, stop this I don’t want him to see us like this,” I tell him trying to stop a mistake.

“He doesn’t need to know. No one does for that matter,”

“Pan if you don’t stop I think I might-” I begin but I get lost in those eyes and his voice makes me weak, “forget it,” I mutter and kiss him passionately.

He kissed me back the same and I just can’t help myself. He pushes me against a wall kissing me harder and I have the same intensity. All I can focus on are his mouth and body against me as our lips fight for dominance. He pulls me away from the wall and we continue to makeout. I can feel his hot breath on my neck as his mouth trails down my neck and I don’t want it to stop.

He eventually pulls away and I look at him confused.

“Why’d you stop?” I ask.

“Just giving you a taste,” he smirks.

“Tease. Two can play that game,” I smirk back, “Anyway,” I start to get serious again, “We can’t do that again, me and Henry have something going and I can’t have you mess it up with doing something,”

“But we did do something,” he tells me.

“And like you said, no one needs to know,” I say sternly.

“Y/n, I think I found something,” I hear Henry say in the next room.

“Till next time,” Pan whispers and kisses my cheek. He goes away.

Henry comes in the room, “Look I think I found what my grandma was saying,” I look at it.

“That’s it I’m pretty sure,” I say looking at the cover.

We get it and walk back.

“Hey we’re you talking to someone?” He asks.

My face starts getting a little red when he asks that, “No? Who would I be talking to? It was only us and no one else in the store,” I try to sound casual but it comes off panicky.

Pan takes up all the space in my head and I know I have to see him again, “Hey Henry I think I left my phone back there I’ll be back,”

I head back with nothing but intentions with a bad person in mind as I try to act cool.

I open the door and step in. I walk around and don’t see him but expect him to pop up behind me. I sigh when he doesn’t come and open the door to go.

I hear footsteps walk from the back and pause in my trail, “Going so fast are you?” I hear him say.

I turn around and walk towards him, “I think you know what I’m doing here,”

“Yes, I do,” he kisses me.

“But Pan, a rendezvous is so sneaky, I don’t want to lie to anyone,” I say second guessing being here.

“That makes it more fun though,” he smirks.

“But it’ll look weird if I come down here all the time,” I counter.

“Different meeting locations can be arranged,” he tells me.

“Why do you want this to happen so bad?” I ask him.

“Why don’t you?” He asks.

“I’ve gotten hurt in the past and I don’t want it to happen again. Alright?!” I say a little bit angry.

“If your so worried it can just be a physical thing” he lets me know which makes me a bit uneasy but I need to be loved by more than just a familial way like Hook or whatever feelings are with me and Henry.

“But- fine meet me at the well in the woods tomorrow at 9,” I tell him.

He nods and I go.

When I return the group is planning the next move. I hear them go on about whatever we have to do that I won’t be included in. I zone out the whole time with butterflies in my stomach already anticipating tomorrow morning.

“Y/n, did you get that?”

“What?” I ask

“Tomorrow morning, you go with me and Hook to get what we need. We need you,” Emma tells me.

“You do?” I ask and she nods.

How do I choose? My one chance at proving what I can do and learning about being a hero or time with Pan who makes me feel good and real about myself just by his presence and I enjoy.

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pinkysfaultorbrainsfault · 4 years

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animaniacs - season 1 episode 38 - spellbound

episode summary: inexplicably stuck in camelot times, brain tries to get the ingredience for a magic spell that allows the caster to take over the world. this episode has no relation to the other camelot episode and i don't... know why.

the rundown: we begin our episode with the assertion that this is England in 1194. at this point in history, everyone from fire emblem 16 has grown up and is gay married, but we're not focusing on them right now. we're going to camelot and asking about their round table.

lol.

anyway after we see this creepy spider do whatever he's doing, we meet... merlin, i guess.

my dude??? he looks different. did you go on queer eye, merlin? whatever. he technically doesn't say he's merlin, so... maybe he's the other guy? the older guy? who's like merlin's dad?

this fucker. is he in the original king arthur? idk man i only watch cartoons. anyway he is casting a spell and it is very important. important enough to require components from yoko ono, apparently. like she hasn't suffered on this show enough.

but who do we have here?

"mouse" as my flatmate elegantly put it when he walked past the tv room to get a water. but even better than mouse??? mouse in SHORTS. MOUSE IN SHORTS MOUSE IN SHORTS??? MOUSE IN SHORTS. MOUSE IN SHORTS LOOK AT HIS LITTLE LEGYS MOUSE IN SHORTS MOUSE IN. SHORTS MOUSE IN SHORTS. MOUSE IN SHORTS.

YES.

pinky is not wearing shorts, which is incredibly disappointing. he's wearing some sort of sleeveless shirt dress tunic thing in an awful colour that someone like kanye west or justin bieber probably sells on their merch store for like a thousand dollars. he got the yeezy fit, damn. despite the designer status of his clothes, his bedroom eyes still do not convince me.

"i wish i was a windowsill so i could be--! ah. um."

"an imbecile?"

"ah! haha good rhyme, brain!" the bop of the century. kanye west sells the "windowsill" remix in vinyl on his online store for an additional fifty dollars.

after naming a few more celebrities ("I win, you win, edwin newman") the cauldron explodes in a puff of green smoke! and we get!

a pie. “lo!” he cries. “i’ve made a nice pie.”

hm. pinky is impressed. brain is uh. i think he mentally checked out? whatever he's doing i cannot stop fucking laughing at it. i actually had to put this post on pause for longer than anticipated because brain’s stupid face got to me. i’m so sorry. i started writing this at like 11pm gmt on the 11th and it just didn’t get to y’all in time because of brain’s stupid fucking face.

i’m sorry. brain is less impressed and declares it a “waste of magic”, and that he “would never squander such mystical powers over mere pastry.”

“poit. but what if you were eating dinner and you forgot dessert?”

“maybe then.”

but there is trouble afoot! Old Man Merlin has realised that king arthur will want some of his pie, and decides he’d better eat it in the dungeon so that doesn’t happen.

brain takes this opportunity to look through Old Man Merlin’s big book of spells. he “will use merlin’s magic to take control of the world” and then we get another nice closeup of his funny little face.

i don’t know why animaniacs was so keen on doing this? does it happen this much in the reboot? it feels like every episode we stare brain down to assert dominance.

“oh, no, no. where will you find a magic spell for that?”

“in the table of contents, pinky.”

“oh, well, very good.”

(the table of contents also contains a spell to “win at blackjack”, next to the taking over the world spell. brain considers this, for a moment, and then decides now is probably not the time.)

so good thing they have all the components for the magic spell, eh? including the Half Eaten Gingerbread Cookie That’s Been Left On The Counter All Night.

hmm.

oh, wait, no they don’t. turns out they’re fresh out of red dragon toenails, so brain’s solution to this problem is just to... go and get more, which is obviously a thing people do. they have to cross the enchanted forest to do that. it has witches and stuff. pinky rightfully points out that that is a lot of danger to overcome, and brain gets his stealing-the-minivan vibes back and nicks Old Man Merlin’s magic wand. he only knows one spell, but that won’t stop him.

the first obstacle they have to cross is the gingerbread house owned by... witch hazel from looney tunes. she’s a lot less annoying here than in bugs bunny lost in time, and informs brain that she is “waiting for pudgy german children.” instead of taking her suggestion to “get outta here”, brain magics her ass.

charlie sheen, ben vereen, shrink to the size of a lima bean.

they do get their ass handed to them by aforementioned pudgy german children, but then the german children decide that the mice have syphillis and yeet them in the general direction of slappy squirrel, who is here now.

she starts an argument with the goodfeathers, who are also here now, and brain takes it as their cue to leave.

but never mind all that! good thing there’s a handy bridge over this stream!

unfortunately, the bridge likes to spawn Giant Purple Hands That Kidnap Goats, so brain concludes they should cross said bridge using Stealth. unfortunately pinky drops the wand on the source of the Giant Purple Hands, and it is... relatively unhappy.

so brain pulls out the old “ charlie sheen, ben vereen, shrink to the size of a lima bean” again.

i did definitely think the troll was going to kick him in the crotch. i was very much sure of this, actually. instead it yeets him into rita and runt and fucks off.

“for goodness sake boxy” i hear you cry, “aren’t they at the dragon yet! this review has lasted a good twenty years of scrolling down my dashboard!” and i hear you, and you’re right, but the first thing you need to understand is; pinky has spent this whole episode singing. that little guitar he has? he has spent the whole episode replicating windowsill. “we’re in the woods so dark and stinky, to conquer the world, go brain and--” and then he forgets his name and brain has to remind him that it’s pinky. or remind him of his own name, or suggest like, steam to rhyme with stream. that is the running gag of this episode, and it is very important, at this stage, that you know that. pinky has not, as of yet, stopped singing and playing the lute.

so even though they make it to the dragon pretty mucn unscathed (aside from brain getting sat on by a giant, but i won’t go into that unless y’all specifically want details) pinky just has to have his little song in order to keep the dragon asleep.

and then brain yells at him for forgetting the word “sandman”, which breaks the toenail off completely,

and also wakes up the dragon, which can’t be good. it’s not happy! it was growing its’ nails out for paris fashion week.

brain tries his best to rectify this situation.

“charlie sheen, ben vereen--!”

charlie sheen and ben vereen are dead. i’m sorry to have to tell you. they shrunk down so much they got stuck in the quantum zone from antman and the wasp. someone should probably do something about that.

anyway the mice decide to hightail it back to Old Man Merlin’s.

conclusion:

spoilies: they do make it back in one piece. i won’t detail the whole chase scene because it’s just a bunch of running, because the post is long enough already, and also because tumblr has eaten it three fucking times and i could basically type all this in my sleep now. the things i do for y’all. donate to the wavemaiden.

so pinky shoves all the ingredients into the pot, while brain finds The Take Over The World Spell. the dragon is harassing them this whole time, which feels unfair.

“listen carefully, pinky. i need to recite this spell exactly, and once i start i cannot stop. so i need you to be extra quiet, okay?”

“sure thing, brain.”

this lasts for approximately five minutes.

“brain’s the boss! he’ll rule with ease!”

“mystical powers, your might unfurled, grant that i become--”

“he’s the one! the big, erm. banana?”

“cheese!” yells brain, who has given up entirely by this point. “it rhymes with ease! big! cheese!”

hm.

“are you alright, brain?”

“i feel. odd.”

this is an interesting development.

so brain is cheese now! cool. i guess they have to wait for merlin to get back from Pie Heaven and turn him back, somehow? with his spare wand or whatever. this is definitely pinky’s fault, because brain did ask him to stay quiet for a bit surprisingly nicely (in brain terms) and he... did not. and now brain is a cheese.

on the other hand, this would probably work again if they tried it again, once merlin goes back to pick up some more toenails.

brain: 2 pinky: 3 outside influence: 5

“can i get you anything, brain? some medicine? a cracker?”

“were i not a large cheese, i would make you pay for that remark.”

#patb #animaniacs #pinky and the brain #a!#tumblr has now eaten this four times.#this time i saved the html though.#anyway sorry this took so long the heatwave is making everyone tired xnx

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tsarinastorm · 4 years

Text

Stare Blankly-Adam Sackler/Reader- Part 1, Chapter 4

Part 1:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Adam can’t remember the last time he had an enjoyable argument. Or if he had ever had an enjoyable argument. God, he felt so damn alive. Y/N was frustrating, intelligent, beautiful, and stubborn. He knew those traits would spell the end of him. He watches the sway of her hips as she walks away. He can’t take his eyes of her, though he knows that she more than likely hates him after that exchange. He should have played it cool after the yuppie comment, maybe he took it too far, and scared her away already. Why couldn’t he be normal and just accept her initial compliment. Adam can’t help but wonder how he could approach her if he ever sees her again. He’s so lost in his thoughts of Y/N that he doesn’t even notice that Jessa’s moved in close to him.

“You know, you should totally fuck her,” Jessa says in her typical accent. Adam’s not sure if he’s heard her correctly so he crooks his head to watch her face to see if she’s serious or being an asshole.

“What are you saying, Jessa?”

“You obviously want to fuck her. Get it out of your system. Go for it, she’s hot, you’re hot.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, I think she’d more likely to push me in front of a train than fuck me.”

“You don’t know that. That argument you just had was full of passion. Something will happen between you, I’d be willing to bet on that.”

Adam laughs and shakes his head. Jessa offers him a cigarette and he follows her out for a smoke. But he can’t help but think of how much enjoyed that conversation with Y/N even if he was arguing with her. He couldn’t wait to find more about her. He didn’t think he could feel that way again and here he is. He feels hopeful, invigorated, and almost giddy. Jessa is standing close to him, and she’s looking at him with heavy lidded eyes. He finishes the cigarette then realizes that he needs to get away from Jessa. He knows her and he knows that look, she’ll try to go home with him again, or pry into his thoughts on Y/N, so she can find a way to destroy that too. He makes up an excuse to leave, and emphasizes that he needs to be alone. Jessa takes the hint, and doesn’t follow him. Half way back to his new place, Adam remembers that he didn’t even ask for Y/N’s number, he’ll just have to get it some other way.

Several days had passed since Marnie’s gig, and you were going shopping with her. You finished paying for your coffee as the two of you walk. She takes a sip of her coffee as you finally ask, “So what’s the deal with Adam, Hannah, and Jessa?”

Marnie takes a deep breath before recounting to you the whole Adam saga. She talks about how he was there for Hannah, then moved on, then came back to her. Then he moved on with Jessa, but they didn’t even tell Hannah, she had to find out a theater event. She goes off on a sidetrack by adding what a shit friend Jessa is, and according to her, that was even before the Adam thing. You listen contently as you process the information you’re getting and let her vent. Marnie finishes by adding, “I don’t understand his appeal at all. He’s into a lot of weird stuff sexually, and I found him drinking milk while on the toilet. Drinking milk on the toilet, Y/N!”

“That is pretty weird, he never gave me weird vibes. He’s definitely different though. What do you mean weird stuff sexually?” You do your best to hide your interest in that topic, but you were incredibly curious to find out what she meant by that. You could see him being the kinky type, maybe into BDSM or something. She says, “He was always doing intense dirty talk according to Hannah, and when he made a movie about his relationship with Hannah, he included a big part with a whole scene where he spanks her before they fuck.”

I knew it, you think to yourself. You could see him as the dominant type. You were going to have track that movie down and watch it for yourself. While making a movie about a past relationship didn’t sit well with you, you were more than interested in observing that one scene. You can’t help but smile as you and Marnie continue on your walk. Marnie keeps complaining about her studio apartment and how she needs to look for a new place but hasn’t found the time, or a roommate. You needed to move out your apartment too, and you would prefer a roommate because you got lonely and combined incomes could help you both afford a nicer neighborhood. You were successful as an author but you only allotted yourself so much of your income to live on so you wouldn’t fly through it. And money was easy to fly through in New York City. You told Marnie your big idea, “Marnie, we should be roommates. I need to move out of my apartment because the lease expires soon and I want to live somewhere else. Roommates are normal in the city, we get along, so why not?”

“That’s such a good idea! We could probably get a nicer place with both of our incomes combined than we could get on our own too.”

“What neighborhoods are you thinking?” You ask her and hope she doesn’t choose somewhere like the Upper Eastside, or Staten Island. She says, “Let’s look at Greenwich Village. I have an old friend who may be able to help. I mean I used to hook up with him, so he owes me.”

“Sounds great. We’ll see what happens.”

You’re sitting at one of your favorite bookstores working on outlining your next novel. You’ve had three cups of a coffee and a raspberry scone already but you can’t seem to concentrate. When you’re about to get up to walk around, hoping that some exercise may help you focus. Upon standing, you lock eyes with none other than Adam Sackler. What is he doing here, you think to yourself. Continuing in your direction, he stops and gets himself a coffee, before sitting across from you. You watch him with curious eyes, he must be able to read the surprise on your face, because he answers your question without you having to ask it out loud.

“A friend of a friend of a friend told me you’d likely be here. I just wanted to say that I hope I didn’t take our ‘discussion’ too far.” He says while making the air quotes gesture when pronouncing discussion.

“Oh no, it was fine. I went to law school so an intense argument doesn’t scare me or offend me.” He raises his eyebrows at your last comments and snickers, “I should have known. You are very opinionated and argumentative.”

“Want to share more of your controversial opinions?” You say as you laugh at his reaction. Somehow you’re able to tell that he has plenty of controversial, or unique opinions, and you’re not getting any work done anyway. He smiles before he starts babbling on about how he hates ice cream. You can’t believe that!

BING! BING! Your phone goes off in the middle of your heated conversation, and Adam stops talking when he realizes that you’re reading the text you received from Marnie instead of listening to his point.

“It’s Marnie. We’re looking for a place, she got a lead on a great place.” You say as Adam hisses in response. He looks around nervously before he finally says, “You need to find a new friend group.”

“Really? I think it’s pretty clear that you liked at least half of that friend group.” You snort.

“You’re bringing that up? You weren’t even around when that happened.” Adam says with a slight bit of venom in his voice.

“I wasn’t but I am here now to see the results of it. If it makes you feel better it probably won’t be a friend group for much longer.” You say as you internally debate changing the conversation or talking it out. This could be a difficult topic to discuss but you were genuinely interested in what his feelings were about it. He dated two friends, what was he thinking? He had to know the risks and consequences.

“It was always fucked up. Even before me. Tell me what you think, I can tell you’re holding something back.”

“I think it was a dick move. It seems like you went for Jessa because you knew it would hurt Hannah the most, then when it was convenient for you, you went back to Hannah knowing it would hurt Jessa.”

“Unbelievable. You’re being a judgmental bitch about a situation that you know nothing about.”

“Probably so, but you’re still an asshole who pulled a dick move.” You say as he walks away this time. Damn, he was frustrating. He had to know how that love triangle looked and seemed. He provoked the conversation then got offended when you told him what you thought. Luckily, it was a big city and you’d likely never see him again.

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

Adam sits there with his face in a frown, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. He was what may be the worst blind date of his life. The redhead named Leah (at least he thinks that was her name) continues to ramble on about something on her social media account, and how annoying it was to have so many followers. Adam tries to come up with some plan of escape. He wonders why he agreed to this date, but he wanted to find someone else and move on like everyone else has. He’s moved on in every other way but his love life. And that clearly wasn’t going anywhere tonight.

He scans the room as the waiter approaches and asks if there’s anything else he can do. Adam tries to get the check but that is destroyed when Leah orders dessert. Then his eyes catch Y/N heading over to the bar. Of course she’s here, it’s the worst date of his life, there are eight million people in this city and he runs into her again. She looks amazing, as she has the other times he’s saw her. She doesn’t take his shit, she doesn’t coddle him, or even pretend to, which is a breath of fresh air from Jessa and Hannah. Though, her harshness does anger him, but he knows that she’s right. He is enraged by, intoxicated by, and aroused by her all at the same time; it’s a frustrating mix of emotions.

Y/N locks eyes with him and nods her head to acknowledge that she sees him. He moves his head in response, trying not to look miserable, but she must notice it because she watches him and his date and throws her head back to laugh. Great, if he ever sees her again, she’ll definitely bring it up. Then he notices his phone is ringing, and his date is too busy dining on her cheesecake to notice what’s going on. He answers and is surprised by the voice that talks to him, “Use this as a way to leave the date. Say it’s some kind of emergency or something.”

Adam had forgotten that he had exchanged numbers with Y/N at their last encounter before they argued and he stormed away. Here she was bailing him out, he never would have guessed that she’d try to help him out. He assumed she’d like watching him squirm, yet she found ways to surprise him and keep him on his toes. He looks to Leah and tells her it’s an emergency so he’ll have to leave soon, but he’ll get the check before he goes. Leah has no problem gathering her bag and heading out, and mercifully doesn’t mention ever seeing him again. He lets out a sigh of relief, then after paying the bill he heads over to where Y/N is perched at the bar. Taking a seat beside her, he says to her, “Thank you for that, I appreciate it. I was about to crawl under the table or fake an injury.”

“No problem, I’m a humane person. I can’t stand to see any other human or animal suffer. And that looked like the kind of torture that violates human rights treaties.” She says and takes a sip of her drink through a straw. Adam feels a rush come over him by talking to her again, and likes her sense of humor and sarcasm. He has a strange sense of humor and a lot of weird habits so he can appreciate them in someone else, especially in a beautiful woman.

“That was a terrible blind date.” He says in a mater-of-fact way, but he’s sure she noticed that it was an arranged date already.

“You should never talk to whoever set you up on that date again. They obviously hate you.” She says with a hint of laughter in her voice this time. She makes eye contact with him again, and turns her seat so she’s facing him. His eyes wander over her body from her long legs hanging over the chair up to her chest that’s rising with her breath. He remembers that he’s been glancing at her chest long enough that he fears she’ll notice so he pulls his eyes back to her face.

“Our talks are bad, but still not that bad. That was a ring of hell not mentioned by Dante.” He says, and she laughs at his response. He’s happy that he finally made her laugh, though he’s sure that he’ll soon say something and ruin the moment.

“Though, I do understand her horror at realizing that she had to socialize with you. You’re an acquired taste.” She smiles at him. He really notices how perfect her smile is: her teeth are straight and white, but don’t look like the fake perfect smiles that people buy. Her red lips are plump and practically mocking him. Fuck, I’m getting too deep, he thinks to himself.

“Like a fine wine or aged cheese.” He says in a voice that shows nothing but pride. He likes this banter between them, it’s not typical flirting, but it’s them and it’s pleasant.

“Look I don’t particularly care for you and you don’t particularly care for me, we’ve established that already. But do you want a drink?” She gestures to the bartender and he turns to head their way.

“No I don’t drink, I’m a recovering alcoholic.”

“Oh well, that’s good for you. I mean that seriously, that’s good you’re sober and got help. But I’ll see ya around, my guest has arrived.” She smiles at him and he saunters off to the door. This was the first of hopefully more pleasant exchanges between them. Adam thinks that his blind date may not have gone as planned but something good did come out of it.

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

“What else can I get you, Miss?” The bartender (or mixologist) asks you, jerking you out of your trance, Adam seemed to have that effect on you even when you were arguing with him, and you seemed to be in your own little world. You go choose something different, a Manhattan, rather than your normal drink of choice: vodka tonic. The restaurant has great classic foods and a great bar, so you chose it to meet up with Marc. You hadn’t told Marnie about your past as a sugar baby and you wanted to ask Marc not to mention it to her. You’d like to keep that aspect of your past as discreet as possible. You never did anything morally wrong but it wasn’t something you were proud of because of the stigma that came with it. Marnie was excited that she got the job, apparently it went both ways because Marc was also impressed with her, and actually thanked you for recommending her. When he’d thanked you, you suggested grabbing a drink just to catch up.

You took an opportunity to take in the rest of the restaurant and saw a number of people ordering drinks, getting food, or otherwise engaged. Then you saw Marc walking your way, and you were glad that he was as punctual as usual because you didn’t appreciate the nerves that came with waiting around. Marc sits next to you and he orders a whiskey sour. He breaks the silence, “It’s good to see you, Y/N. You look beautiful.”

“Hi, Marc, good to see you too. I hope all is well.” You say back as you try to hide your nerves and take another drink.

“I can’t thank you enough for sending Marnie my way, she’s perfect for the position. I think it’s going to go well.” He says and the way he’s watching you reminds you that you need to get to the point of this meeting.

“Look Marc, can you please not tell Marnie about how we met? She’s my friend and I haven’t told her about that part of my past.” He shakes his head in agreement and tells you, “Yeah, of course. I understand and I wouldn’t want to overstep my place. Can I tell her that we dated?”

“Feel free to tell her that, that won’t be an issue.” You say as you realize that you’ve finished your drink and that you need another.

#adam sackler #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler fic #adam driver #hbo girls #girls hbo

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sprnklersplashes · 4 years

Text

heart of stone (5/?)

AO3

Janis will always remember this morning.

The sun is just about up as she stands in her bedroom, fighting for dominance with grey clouds that promise a shower later on. Across the city, kids are groaning and pressing the snooze buttons, getting dressed and brushing their teeth, packing their bags and making sure they have everything for the day ahead. Janis is doing the almost same thing, but instead of packing for school, she’s squashing as much as she can into her bag, trying to take as much of home with her as she possibly can. They’re all headed off to school and will see their homes again tonight, she won’t see this bedroom for another two weeks.

Her teeth dig into her lip and she pushes another sweater into the bag. It’s a little like going on vacation; she has no idea what’s enough pairs of underwear and if she’ll need a sweater and if she really needs this t-shirt she hasn’t worn in two years. Maybe if she pretends it’s a vacation she can get through it.

She picks up the small stuffed kitten that lay across her pillows. He’s been her constant companion since she was five, accompanying her to sleepovers and overnight field trips and Girl Scout retreats. Wherever she slept, he slept. Which is why she doesn’t hesitate in putting him in her bag. She drops a little kiss to his forehead before she packs him, though, and decides to put him in the side of her backpack instead. To let him look out at everything. And so she can grab him if she needs him.

She hasn’t eaten anything. Her stomach has twisted itself into knots and tied those knots together and folded in on itself. She picked at oatmeal downstairs but despite her parents insistence, she couldn’t eat any of it. Her dad had reminded her that she’d need her strength for the day ahead and Janis had stifled a laugh. She doesn’t feel strong at all right now and doubts oatmeal could help. Her parents had only allowed her to go upstairs to finish packing when she agreed to take her breakfast with her.

To kill time, and to avoid the cold oatmeal glaring at her from her nightstand, she looks through the open drawers, trying to find something to add to the mass in her bag. Her doctor had advised her to pack what she’d be most comfortable in. He of course meant PJs and sweatpants and stuff Janis can lounge in during her treatment, but the two of them seem to have different versions of ‘comfortable’. For Janis, comfort means being happy with herself, and what she wears is sort of like a manifestation of her own soul. After all, it did take longer than she thought to find out what she likes wearing. So in that vein, her bag is filled with fishnet tights and graphic tees and shorts and denim skirts. And a few pairs of leggings, just to keep her mom happy.

As she looks through the drawers and tries to block out her parents’ muffled conversations, she pulls out a hoodie that’s far too big to be hers. She pulls it out, falling back against her bed as she does so. She knows who owns it before she opens it up, and her breath catches in her throat. It’s Damian’s; originally plain white but she had tie-dyed it for him and sewn little a little rainbow under the hood as a birthday present last year. He must have left it here and a while ago and she had always intended to give it back. But now…

She holds it against her body, burying her face in the soft fabric inside the hood. She knows how it sounds, but having this sweater is the next best thing to having Damian with her. It feels like him, his big teddy bear body pulling her into a hug that lasts for ages, making her feel more safe than she does anywhere else.

Hopefully, he’ll understand.

“Janis?” She jumps a bit before turning around, her dad having caught her off guard. He stands awkwardly in the doorway, his shoulders hunched over and his hips moving back and forth like someone is pulling strings on both sides. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she replies, thankful that her eyes are dry. She pushes herself up and heads to the bed, wringing the sweater in her hands. “Just went to get this.” She manages to squish it into the bag and zip it up, catching on clothes along the way. Her dad does offer to help but she shakes him off and manages to get the thing closed, even if it is straining and reminds her vaguely of an overstuffed Christmas turkey.

“That’s everything,” she says. “Right?”

“Is it? You got the essentials?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “Um, underwear, PJs, clothes, laptop, notebook, pencils, chargers, phone, toothbrush, hairbrush…” She rattles them off on her fingers, the monotony of it somehow calming her.

“I see your little kitty’s coming too,” her dad points out, tapping under the toy’s chin. “Didn’t want to miss out, did he?” Janis chuckles at that. Despite her having grown out of that phase, her dad has kept on treating Purrlock like he’s real. She loves him for that.

“He said two weeks without me was too long,” she replies. Two weeks of sleeping in a different bed and eating food that wasn’t cooked in their kitchen, not seeing her friends and instead getting medicines pumped into her body because her body is being wrecked from the inside.

She comes back to herself just in time to see her hand reaching to grab Purrlock out of her bag.

“Hey.” Her dad takes the toy and gently presses it into her hand, his free hand rubbing up and down her arm. She can’t be imagining him trembling. Even so, she rests her head on his shoulder and lets him hold her tight. They stand in silence for a while before her dad whispers “Come on, it’s time to go,” in her ear. He has to pull her out of her room and takes both her bags with him. In the back of her mind, she wishes she could help, but she feels a little like her brain is on standby.

Her mom is already waiting in the car, her own bag packed. Her parents agreed that her mom would stay in the hospital with Janis while her dad stays at work, promising to visit her every night. ‘They’re going to have to extend visiting hours just for me’ he had promised. She slides into the backseat and places her backpack on her lap for something to hold on to.

“Everybody say ‘bye bye house’,” she says. It’s barely a joke, just something her parents liked to say when they would go on road trips when she was little, but it gets a laugh out of both of them.

As the car pulls out of the drive, she gives a minute wave goodbye to her house. Suddenly two weeks seems a lot longer than it had.

*****

Janis will never understand how people who work in hospitals are so damn cheerful. The receptionist who greets them, the nurses who guide her to her new room and give her a medical bracelet, they all have such a peppy, wholesome demeanour that makes them feel unsuited for the job they have. Like they should be on the side-lines of a football game instead,

Her room is identical to the other ones they passed; pale blue walls and a large window, in her case overlooking the parking lot, and a bathroom attached. Little Janis is jumping up and down with glee. She always wanted an en suite. Then there’s the bed, the one thing she doesn’t want to look at. With its sturdy grey frame and spotless, perfectly made white sheets it looks even more impersonal than the rest of the room. The worst part by far is the white bar above it which has outlets and hooks along it. All to house her various medicines and drugs.

Ward 3, Room 21. Her new home.

“Okay, let’s get you settled in,” the nurse begins. She did introduce herself, something beginning with an L, but it didn’t stick. “And then Doctor Wiley will be down to see you in a few minutes.” Again, the all-too-happy manners feel more like they belong in a hotel lobby. Like she’s just gone on vacation for a week. So, as though she’s on vacation, she wanders over and sits on the mattress, pushing herself up and down.

“Not very bouncy,” she concludes.

“I’ll put in a complaint with the manager,” her dad replies and she laughs, really laughs.

“You’re such a Karen,” she chuckles. “Not my Karen. Just you know… the species Karen.”

“I’ll get a bob and amber highlights,” he goes on and she leans back on the bed, still laughing. “Start ordering ice Frappuccino’s at Starbucks. Those are what Karens drink, right?”

“No, that’s what Regina George drinks,” her mom corrects him. “A Karen would have a latte, skim milk, no cream, half a pack of sweetener and then bring her own organic chocolate.” Janis’ cheeks almost hurt from smiling and laughing, but it fades almost instantly when she sees the doctor appearing behind them, the same one they spoke to before. Doctor Wiley, she assumes, but she’ll almost always be calling him Mr Doctor Man in the future.

Her parents take notice of him and in one motion, move away from the door and next to her, flanking her on either side.

“Well, I wish I was seeing you under different circumstances, Janis,” he says, a grim edge to his voice.

“The feeling’s mutual,” she replies. The corners of his mouth turn up at that. For her, the air turns chilly and she pulls her cardigan tighter around her.

“First thing’s first, we’re going to take a little blood test-”

“I already did one,” she interrupts. “Isn’t that the whole reason I’m here?”

“Well, yes, but this is a different one,” he explains. “That was to determine the type of cancer you have; this will be so we know how best to administer the chemo. We’ll also need to do a quick physical exam, check your height, weight, breathing, all so we know how to tailor your treatment to you.”

“Treatment that’s personally tailored to me,” she says. “What a dream.” Mr Doctor nods, a knowing smirk on his face that lifts Janis’ head. They lock eyes for a fraction of a second before he looks at her parents, as though he knows something they don’t.

“She’s going to be a fighter, I can tell,” he says. At that, her dad squeezes her hand and for a second, she wonders if she might actually make it through this.

Doctor Man’s comment and her parents’ pride both give her the strength to make it through the physical exam at least. It’s all quick and easy, even when he gets the needle out to draw her blood. Unlike Karen, who balks at the mere mention of one, she’s not particularly frightened of needles. She doesn’t love the idea either, but the only reaction she gives is her hand tightening on the arm of the chair.

So before homeroom ends for her friends, she’s standing with a cookie in one hand, juice box in the other and a tiny bandage on her arm.

“We’ll hope to get you started as quickly as possible,” her nurse explains. “In the meantime, why don’t you go check the place out? There’s a good teen lounge down the hall. There’s TV, games, movies. The whole shebang.”

“The whole shebang,” Janis echoes, a faint smile on her face.

“Do the kids not say ‘shebang’ anymore?” the nurse asks innocently.

“Not since the 90s, I think,” she replies. She kicks the ground with the toe of her boot, her hands plunged into her pockets. When she takes a tiny look up, she sees her parents deep in conversation with the doctor. If she doesn’t go to the lounge, it’s back to her room and that isn’t appealing to her. Besides, been there, seen that. “Sounds cool. Where do I find it?”

She probably could have found it without the nurse’s directions, but the sunny smile she delivers them with does something to calm Janis’ nerves. It’s a bit down past her room, honey-coloured double doors open revealing a bigger area with three baby blue walls and one white and covered in pencil doodles. They’ve clearly gone all out to make it cheerful and inviting, from the yellow sunshine rug on the floor to the overstuffed bookshelves and equally overstuffed DVD and game cabinet, to the large plush armchairs, each one with a brightly coloured cushion on it that looks like it was brought in a thrift store. A cool thrift store, though. One of the chairs is occupied now by what appears to be the only person in the room besides Janis.

“Wow.” Janis jumps, and then surprisingly, she supresses a sigh. She simply assumed her parents were still talking to the doctors, but that was probably a stupid assumption. Of course they’d be on her heels. Why would they let their illness-stricken daughter out of their sight? “Well this is cool.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles in reply. As her parents take in the room, the other kid looks up at her. She can’t be more than fourteen, legs folded beneath her on the chair, clad in rainbow-stripped leggings and a pink hoodie with who she recognises to be Princess Aurora on the front. And a beanie on her head, made from purple wool. Janis’ hand clenches in her pocket, her mouth running dry.

“Hey, sweetie,” her mom says, appearing at her side. “Do you need anything? There was a little store downstairs and the doctors said you might want to eat or drink something before your treatment starts.”

Relief hits her like a water balloon being thrown and guilt quickly follows. Not enough to make her refuse, but enough to make her notice and hope this doesn’t become common.

“That’d be great, Mom,” she replies. “I didn’t really eat breakfast.”

“That’s fine, we’ll get you something. Anything in particular you want? I can get you some candy if you want, or some-”

“It’s fine,” she says, plastering a smile on her face and patting her mom’s hand. “I trust your judgement. I’ll be here.”

Her mom cups her face before she finally leaves and Janis lets out a sigh before she can stop herself. Her eyes move to the other girl out on instinct and she finds her giggling. Should she be annoyed by that? If so, she’s doing the opposite. She pauses for a second before moving towards her and sitting on the arm of the chair next to her.

“Hey,” she greets. “I’m Janis.”

Damian’s voice whispers ‘and je m’appelle Sasha Fierce’ in her ear. She shakes her head to get it out.

“Hey,” she replies, putting her tablet by her side. “I’m Maddie.” Her eyes are green and there are braces on her teeth and dimples in her cheeks and as cute as Janis finds it, there’s an air of discomfort that she hopes Maddie doesn’t pick up on. She doesn’t appear to, instead looking at her with inquisitive eyes. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, first off, I’ve never seen you. And I know everything that goes on in here.” Janis chuckles.

“So you’re the all-seeing eye,” she states and Maddie nods excitedly. “No one gets in or out without you noticing.”

“Nope.” The smile on Maddie’s face falters and her fingers fidget in her lap. “And you look… well…” As her voice trails off, the pieces click together in Janis’ mind. Even despite the height difference, there’s a visible contrast between her and Maddie that she can’t ignore. Her hand twitches to touch her hair.

“Scary? Yeah, well, I’m 5”9’,” she responds, bringing the grin back. “Plus the dye job makes me look tougher than I actually am.” She leans back so that she sits on the seat, her feet dangling over the arm.

“Oh, I love your boots!” Maddie squeaks, her eyes going wide.

“Yeah?” There’s a rush of protective affection in her chest, slightly similar to when she saw Cady looking helpless and hopeless in health class, but she’s certain it won’t develop the way those feelings did. She wiggles her legs, letting the light catch her boots. “$15 at a thrift store.”

“Woah,” she breathes. A sheepish look crosses her face, a question on her mind that may as well be written across her forehead.

“You want to try them on?”

“Can I?” Maddie’s mouth has fallen open and her eyes bulge in a perfect picture of delight that warms Janis’ heart. That feeling doesn’t go away when she toes off her boots and only swells when Maddie steps into them. Even in those boots, she barely comes up to Janis’ chest. She looks up at her with so much giddy excitement that Janis wouldn’t be surprised if she started singing.

“Oh they suit you,” she says.

“Thanks.” She looks down at them, clumsily tapping the heels together like Dorothy. “I’ve always wanted a pair of shoes like these but my mom always said they’re too adult for me. Though she has been whittled down from ‘not until your 18’ to ‘maybe for your birthday’.”

“You must be quite the negotiator.”

“Well, I guess. But she finds it hard to say no to me these days,” she shrugs.

“Ah.” Suddenly the light in Janis’ chest begins to dim and she finds herself cold again. “Well that’s fun.”

“Yeah…” Maddie must have picked up on the mood change because she sits back down and Janis follows her, once again picking at her nails. “So… what are you in for?”

“You sound like we’re in prison,” she jokes. She puts on a gruff voice and a stern expression and says “I’ve killed a man. I killed a man for a jar of pickles. And I’d do it again.” Maddie chuckles again, the sound sweet and light and well… happier than Janis thought possible given the circumstances. She picks at her fishnets, her chest heavily. “I’m in for leukaemia.”

“Oh,” is Maddie’s response, as well as a nod. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it sucks,” she sighs. She considers what she wants to say carefully, reasoning that Maddie asked her the same. Maybe boundaries don’t exist here, or at least they’re different. Maybe discussing your cancer here is like discussing your test scores at school. “What about you?”

“My stomach,” she replies. “I started feeling weird two months ago, went to a doctor and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Two months?” Janis asks, astonished. She can barely imagine being here for a week, let alone two months. Her heart aches for herself and for Maddie, but there’s also a small spark of hope. Maddie’s been here two months and she seems strong enough. Who says she can’t?

“Yeah. I’m scheduled to finish soon though.” Maddie ducks her head, but it doesn’t stop Janis from seeing the sad expression on her little face. As she shakes her head and gives her a false-looking smile, Janis feels like she’s watching a replay of her own life.

“You’re incredibly tough,” she tells her and she watches the smile become real. She looks around the room, noticing things she hadn’t picked up on like the pile of board games in the corner and the flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. “So this is where you guys hang out?”

“Yeah. It’s usually more crowded than this,” she explains. “But you know… teenagers.”

“Hey, miss,” she says. “I’m a teenager too. And so are you.”

“Fair.” She taps her fingers on her knee in a rhythm Janis can’t quite place. “So your parents are with you?”

“Yeah,” she answers. “They just went to get me some food.”

“They seem cool.”

“I guess,” she says with a shrug. “You know. For parents. Speaking of, where are yours? Or do they just let a little kid like you sit alone in here with all the valuables.”

“I’m not a kid. I’ll be 13 in six weeks,” she tells her rather sternly. “I told my mom my feet were cold, so I asked her to go get me my fuzzy socks.” Janis nods, but quickly catches on to the flaw in Maddie’s idea.

“Those wouldn’t be the red fuzzy socks that you’re wearing underneath those boots, would it?” she asks.

“Shh,” she commands, finger to her lips. “She doesn’t need to know that!”

Janis throws her head back laughing at that. It’s like God took everything she could like about a human and condensed it into one little kid.

“Sneaky little brat,” she says approvingly. She’s keeping this one.

“Janis.” She turns and finds her parents right behind her chair, both with their hands full of goodies from the store. Definitely more than she can stomach now.

“Wow,” she says. “Did you leave any for anyone else?”

“Well we didn’t know exactly what you wanted,” her mom admits, flustered. “We did text you but you didn’t respond.”

“Sorry,” she shrugs. Her phone is both off and in her bag. There’s probably a lot she’s missed by now.

“It’s okay hon.” The three (four, including Maddie) sit in a tense, awkward silence in which everyone’s eyes avoid everyone else’s. Embarrassment flurries in Janis’ chest and she squirms in the chair, grappling in the empty air for a conversation topic.

“So what did you get?” she asks and everything comes back to normal again.

“Well, I got you… rice cakes, chips, candy bars… oh and we got you some water as well.” Janis stifles a laugh. Her parents are more than well-intentioned and her heart is warmed, but they’ve never gone this far before.

“Thanks,” she says, pulling a rice cake out of her mom’s arms. Out of the corner of her eye she notices Maddie shifting in her chair and she shares look with her mom, who drops another candy bar into her hand.

“Hey.” She barely has to stretch to poke Maddie in the arm with the candy. Her mouth falls open, the most sweet-sounding gasp that’s ever existed emitting from it and her eyes lighting up. Janis had no idea there was a way for a gasp to sound cute, but there is apparently. “Here. Take some sugar, kid.”

“Thanks!” she says. She takes the bar and weighs it in her hand, a decisive smile on her face for just a second before she slips the bar into her pocket. “For later,” she says.

Janis’ parents ask Maddie stuff Janis wouldn’t care for, about her school (as it happens, North Shore Middle School) and where she lives (again, as if happens, Edgewood Drive). All the while skirting around the obvious.

“Oh, my girlfriend lives there,” Janis remarks, breaking a rice cake in half. An empty packet is already sitting her lap; she hadn’t realised exactly how hungry skipping breakfast had made her. “Caddy Heron, you know her?”

“Heron? Is she the girl whose parents are zoologists?” she asks.

“The very one.”

“Oh yeah, I met them!” she answers brightly. “After they moved in my parents brought them a pie. You know, the neighbourly thing…” She leans on the chair, her eyes wide and glittering as though she’s about to drop a huge secret. “You know they used to live in Kenya?”

“Yeah,” Janis chuckles. “Yeah I knew that.”

“Oh right.” That doesn’t deter Maddie though. Quite the opposite, she shuffles closer to her, eagerness written all over her little face. When she speaks, it’s in a hushed, low voice that trembles with excitement. “She’s your girlfriend?”

“Yep. I got lucky, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. She’s really pretty. Well, she was the last time I saw her.”

“Oh she’s very pretty,” she says matter-of-factly. She reaches for her phone to show Maddie all the photos of her, but the thought of turning her phone on freezes it in its path. Turning her phone on means anyone in the world can contact her…

“I thought her name was Cady though,” she goes on, oblivious to Janis’ conflict. She shoves the phone behind her and turns to Maddie, finding it easy to get lost in conversation with her. “Not Caddy.”

“It’s Caddy in my world,” she replies, making Maddie giggle.

“So how long have you two been together?”

“Since the end of school.” There’s a blush creeping across her face that’s warm and no doubt pink coloured and her insides feel warm and gooey like a melted brownie, the way she always feels when she talks about Cady. “I asked her out and then we got dinner and saw a movie and then… you know…” She wiggles her eyebrows, Maddie’s laughing face half hidden between her hands. “Okay actually it wasn’t like that. But our first date was dinner and a movie.”

“Cool,” Maddie breathes. “I can’t wait to get my first girlfriend. Which might not happen for a while…” Oh no Janis thinks. “I mean, I don’t know how to talk to girls.”

“Neither do I,” she tells her, letting out a breath. “My friend had to push me to go talk to her. If it weren’t for him we’d probably still be friends right now.” She reaches out and playfully punches Maddie’s shoulder, the pull in her gut too big to ignore. She can almost hear Damian telling her not to meddle. To which she would reply ‘how is this meddling?’. “Tell you what, kid. If you ever need a wing woman or a gay guru, you come straight to me.”

“You mean that?” Her eyes grow ever wider, to the point where Janis starts wondering if they have limits. Just like with Cady’s equations, the limit does not exist.

“Of course. Us gays have to stick together. Like Luke Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Who are those guys?” she asks, wrinkling her nose and confusion clouding her eyes. Janis opens her mouth to explain that it’s from some old (and not that good but still culturally relevant) movie, but her dad lets out an offended gasp before she can.

“I’m sorry,” he says when he’s met with one confused face and two amused ones. “I just can’t believe kids these days have never heard of Star Wars.”

“Oh, Star Wars,” Maddie says, as though it should have been obvious. “My brother loves them. Especially the old ones.”

“Which old ones?” he asks. “The old ones or the old-old ones?”

“There’s a difference?” she mumbles, looking over to Janis with an expression that says, ‘help me’.

“It’s not that important,” Janis tells her. When she sees her dad’s face, she can tell that to him it very much is. As they keep talking, they compare each other’s favourite Disney movies, finding they both have a deep love for Tangled and Frozen, but Maddie’s love for the mouse seems to far outweigh Janis as she lists off her favourite Princesses, which one she thinks she’s most like, which one she thinks Janis is most like (“you give off kind of an Elsa-Belle vibe” she tells her, which Janis is more than happy with). She also enthusiastically tells her about her plans to visit Disney World soon and Janis tells her the one in Paris is way better.

“You’ve been to Paris?”

“A few times,” she replies, nodding towards her dad. “You probably can’t tell, but he’s French. I have a whole army of cousins out there. You seen the Hunchback of Notre Dame?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve seen Notre Dame. Before it caught fire, obviously.” She blesses herself and presses a quick kiss to her fingertips. “May she RIP in peace.”

“Cool,” Maddie says. “The coolest vacation I had before this was New York.”

“Oh, I love New York,” Janis nods. “My aunt lives out there. Ever seen Broadway?”

“Yeah, we saw Lion King!” she replies. “I was like nine years old and my dad got them-”

“Janis?” Their conversation is interrupted by her nurse, who hovers in the doorway holding a clipboard and of course, a smile. “Your doctor’s ready for you.”

“Hi Nurse Lucy!” Maddie pipes up, leaning forwards in her chair.

Lucy. That was her name. Really, how could it have been anything else?

“Hi Maddie,” she says warmly, looking at the pair of them. “Making new friends?”

“Apparently, she’s the eyes and ears around here,” Janis says as she gets up. She turns back to Maddie, giving a quick wave. “See you around, kid.”

“Bye Janis.”

She stretches her legs out and hops as they walk, her body stiff from having folded itself into a chair for that long. She finishes off the rice cake and saves the other one in her pocket for later and is reminded how much she loves these little guys. Low calories (not that she cares about that), covered in chocolate and deliciously delicate. She needs to get back into these bad boys.

She also slips a bit on the floor and realises that she left her boots back with Maddie. She shrugs and makes a mental note to get them later as she steps into her room.

Her eyes land on the IV next to her bed immediately, barely acknowledging Doctor Wiley next to it. All at once, every good feeling she had built up with Maddie, every ounce of comfort and happiness is abruptly and cruelly yanked from her and she’s reminded why she’s actually here. She’s left feeling cold and winded and frozen.

Back there she could almost have tricked herself into believing she was here for a fun little vacation. So much for that.

“Janis.” She hadn’t noticed, but she’s stepped back. Where’s she going? Back to the lounge with Maddie? To the school, where Damian and Cady are? Back home?

Her mom’s hand wraps around hers and the other rubs her shoulder.

“It’s okay baby.”

“No, I know,” she says. “I know.” She forces her feet forwards, over to where the IV is. She feels her sleeves wrapping around her arms and sticking to her skin. Her arm is encased by her hand. “Okay so what’s the drill, doc?”

“Well, we’re planning to have you get a few sessions each day,” he explains. “Between two and four really. Now that we know the type of leukaemia you have and where it’s at, this is the best place to start.”

“Sounds like fun,” she mumbles. She lowers herself on to the bed, her hand still around her arm.

“Unfortunately, it’s going to make you feel pretty bad most days,” he confesses. “But it’s going to kill the leukaemia cells as well.” She nods minutely, passively listening to him explaining the process to both her and her parents. She’s not scared of needles. At all. And she thinks that she shouldn’t be scared of this, since it’s the good thing. So why is her heart pounding so fast?

She takes off her cardigan, exposing the white t-shirt and its skull print and most importantly, her bare arms. Beneath the lights they look almost translucent. At least Nurse Lucy doesn’t have any issue finding the vein. They could be seen on Google maps like blue rivers running through a snowy mountain.

“You ready?” the nurse asks. She’s not and she never will be. But the world won’t wait for her to be ready. Nor will the cancer in her body. She twists one of the rings on her hand, a little plastic thing Cady won in an arcade game. Her fearless girl. Wouldn’t Cady want her to be fearless too?

It takes a while, but the words “I’m ready” fall from her lips and the needle goes into her vein.

“You probably know all about the sound effects by now,” Lucy explains. “Might make you a little tired, might make you feel nauseous. Or it could go the other way and make you feel stronger than normal.”

“I hope it’s the other one,” she remarks as tape is secured over her arm. “I want superpowers.”

“Wouldn’t it be lovely if it worked that way?” she replies as she straightens up. “Okay. This is going to take around two hours to-”

“Two hours?” she echoes in disbelief. She looks up at the little bag at the top of her IV. There’s no way there’s two hours’ worth of medicine in there.

“Afraid so,” she says sympathetically, patting Janis’ shoulder.

“What am I meant to do for the next two hours?”

“There’s a TV,” the nurse reminds her. “Normally we’d let you do this in the lounge, but since it’s your first go we want to monitor you.”

“Consider me monitored,” she replies dryly, sneaking a glance up at the bag. Absolutely no change.

“You’ve got your TV in here,” her nurse reminds her. “And I’m sure there’s loads of gadgets in your bag to keep you occupied while you wait.” She turns more to her parents than to Janis, no doubt trying to ease their worries. “I’ve got a sixteen year old. She’s never off that phone.”

She leaves with the instruction that Janis keep hydrated throughout and a promise to call back in later. Her mom turns on the TV and flicks through channels even though it doesn’t have half the channels it does at home. She settles on some cute home renovation show that should normally get her creative buzz going and lead to hours on Pinterest, but instead she only half pays attention to it, the rest of her mind jumping from the IV above her head to the flowers she’s doodling in her sketchbook to her still-off phone that sits coldly in her lap.

“How’s everyone in school?” her dad asks, likely aware of what he’s doing. She taps her fingers on the screen as though it were on and takes a swing of water.

“I’m sure they’re all fine,” she says, adding another flower to her doodle. “Damian can keep me updated with the tea tonight.”

Janis never thought she’d miss school. Even disregarding the ugly history that’s followed her around the halls, she just never grew attached to it. She’d rolled her eyes at people who told her she’d cry on her last day and swore up and down to Damian, and later Cady, that they’d be the only things she’s miss. It wasn’t like she was counting down the days to graduation, but at the same time, she wasn’t going to lose any sleep over moving on.

But now North Shore is the only place she wants to be. For the first time she wishes she were in physics writing about gravity and mass or in history learning the severely edited version of the Civil War. She’d take the cafeteria food and its health violations over corner store rice cakes any day and at least at school there’s a change of scenery every forty minutes or so. And more than anything, she misses her friends. Going this long without Damian’s warm hearted words of wisdom or Cady’s soft spoken support has been physically painful, but she’s even found herself missing Karen and Gretchen too. Who knows, maybe if this year was going normally, they’d have even become friends. She could never imagine not being in North Shore would hurt as much as it does, but here she is, sitting in near-silence with a deep, harrowing ache in her chest that’s not from the cancer nor the medicine. Like a lot of stuff she’s come across today, it’s something she’ll have to get used it.

Even with that agony it takes almost an hour for her to work up the courage to open her phone, just as the medicine is beginning to cloud her head. She presses the screen into the bed until the buzzing and pinging and ringing stop, the corner of her mouth twitching up. She’s never been so popular.

On Facebook and in all her DMs are messages from people from every cafeteria table; the band geeks, the debate team, the dance team and both sets of jocks all send her good wishes. The messages range from the stilted and awkward to the over-emotional; some offer her two to three lines hoping she’s okay and some give her miniature essays telling her how horrible it yes (tell me something I don’t know she thinks) and how brave she is and if she needs anything, anything at all, they’re here for her. Even the Christian believers have sent her little prayers, despite the clashes she’s had with them over the years. She guesses she appreciates it, despite what her inner atheist-slash-witch thinks. Isn’t it nice to have people thinking of you?

When she goes back to her feed, her face is the first thing she sees. Not her own post and not one of her friend’s either, but one put up by the North Shore account. It’s her standing in the art room holding the prize she got from the art expo, grinning at the camera so proudly you wouldn’t guess she’d just fought with someone the night before.

‘Shout out to our brave student Janis Sarkisian, who is battling leukaemia this year. Janis is a bright star in our art program and co-founder of our new LGBT+ society. The North Shore Lions are roaring with you every step of the way, Janis!!’

Well that’s almost sweet, she thinks. Even if the idea of lions roaring at her is a little off-putting. What’s even more off-putting is the comments on it, all sobbing about how awful it is for her, people she’s never met preaching about how brave she is and how they know she’ll fight like hell. Even though she’s alone in this room, she feels hundreds of eyes on her, none of them familiar, and the attention makes her squirm.

Biting her nail, she clicks out of Instagram and takes in a breath before checking her texts instead. She hopes to find some sanity and order in there and she almost does… until she finds a text from someone. The contact isn’t saved in her phone, but she knows who it is, and it sparks fury and disgust in her gut.

“Hey Janis. Hope you’re doing okay. We all got told about it in school. We’re all thinking of you. -Regina xx.”

“Seriously?” Janis sighs, not realising she’s spoken out loud.

“Seriously what?” her mom asks with poorly masked concern. Her cheeks grow warm as she shows her mom the text and an uncertain look spreads across her mother’s face.

“Well that’s nice, isn’t it?” she says. Asks, more like.

“Not at all.” Regina George isn’t nice, ever. “And does she need to sign off her texts like that. This isn’t Gossip Girl.”

Thankfully, there are texts rom Cady and Damian to restore balance to the universe. At some point last night, she and Damian stopped using words and started using GIFs. The last thing in their chat is her sending him one of two kittens cuddling, obviously meant to be them. And after she fell asleep, Cad had texted her a sweet good night she managed to miss. Followed by a voice message, one that’s earnest and quiet and sent at 2:31am. She pops her headphones in, a myriad of emotions stirring in her foggy brain, and presses play.

“Hey. It’s me. Of course it’s me who else would it be? I just um…. This is scary. I don’t know why I’m telling you that, you know. You know more than anyone. Anyway I just wanted to let you know that I’m not going anywhere. I meant it. And whenever you get scared or it gets intense… just call me. Or text me. Or even think of me, okay? Just think of me. I miss you. A lot. I know I saw you today but I miss you. I… you mean a lot to me, Janis. And I know you’re going to kick this thing’s butt. I know you will and I hope you know that you know you will. I also really hope you’re asleep right now instead of listening to this because if you’re not asleep I’m coming over there. I wish I could come over there. I wish I could come with you… Okay, okay, I’m getting too sappy here, so I’m going to go to sleep now. Bye, Janis. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

Janis lets out something that’s halfway between a laugh and a sob. It reflects what’s going on in her head perfectly; all those bubbling and complex feelings boiled down to ‘half happy, half sad’. She’s fairly confident that’s the way she’ll go on for the next few weeks, and some days will have more sad than others. And she bets that the happiness is going to be harder to come by and harder to fight for on those days. So she makes a start. She sends Cady a quick ‘lol that’s gay’ message, followed up by a thank you and a little gay message of her own. Then she replays the message and feels the smile on her face grow a bit wider each time she does.

#cadnis #cady x janis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #mean girls fanfic #mean girls broadway #mean girls the musical

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