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wornoutmouse · 3 years

Note

May I request Ogun with a Black shy female reader doing a training session that leads to a little bit more 🙈

Anon please

You’re a second-generation pyrokinetic (Like Joker and Maki). Idk why but I made up in my head that you have flint-bottomed tap-dancing shoes that briefly light when you scrape your feet against the floor…..so that’s where you get your fire from 🤣🤣🤣

This one is a bit longer than normal cause i gotta build the tension

I am terrible at action scenes bruh

Chug- lift heels, slide forward, and then drop the heels at the end of the slide forwards

“Hey, Y/n!” You look up from the bland mashed potatoes and corn Company 5 had prepared. It was a hot Sunday morning and your partner in crime was as excited as ever. He stood a few feet away at the back entrance in the cafeteria. Cocking a thumb behind him, he dawns a toothy grin. “Want to play a quick game?” The game Ogun hinted at was one you were quite familiar with and one you should have known he would ask you to participate in today. “Fine, but don’t cry when I win.” You scoop another spoonful of corn before tossing your tray away for recycling. You’d need all your strength cause Ogun never lost without asking for back-to-back redos.

.You didn’t quite understand the need to be sweaty all the time, but always gave in to his whims

Ogun preferred to train in the field where the sun shined the most throughout the day at the far left of the Company. Often as you went on throughout your day-to-day training, you’d spot Ogun doing laps and practicing his attacks throughout the day.

“I’m feeling fired up today Y/n, you might want to be worried.” You close your eyes as you stretched an arm over your chest. You had yet to lose but you knew Ogun only saw that as a personal goal to get past. “Let’s get this over with, I’m tired.” The smell of smoke enters your nostrils giving you enough time to dodge Oguns boosted attack. “I told you about letting yourself known Mr. Montgomery.” You open your eyes, Oguns skin was lit ablaze with his pyrokinetic abilities.

From afar you’ve always admired the swirls that decorated his skin whenever you got amped up, and this time was no different. “I see you’re already using “Flaming Ink” what, you already scared?” Ogun widened his stance, glowing white eyes watching you shift your feet. “I’ve been working on a new move that I want to show you so why don’t you try your little fire trick.”

Curious, you scuff your shoe on the floor and draw your fire...only the fire doesn’t come. You do it again and the light goes out just as quick as it came. “What did you do?” You narrowed your eyes at Ogun. “Oh nothing, I’m just faster than you now.” You take a few steps back, “Oh that’s how you want to play it? Okay!” You take off running at the very edge of the field and Ogun is fast behind you. Internally you admit that he had gotten much faster, but a simple fact as that wasn’t going to make you lose.

Doing your best to maintain speed, you chug and draw the flames close to your chest out of Montgomery’s line of sight. It was small, mostly snuffed by the kick of your legs as you ran but it was big enough to get the job done. Similar to Ogun in his natural state, you too could throw projectiles just not as damage-inducing.

Turning around as you run, your eyes widen when Ogun appears just inches in front of you, “Surprise!” Your flame is snuffed and you tumble bringing Montgomery down with you. You prepare to feel your body be crushed by his muscled one but at the last minute your shoulders are grabbed and you flip again. The change in elevation causes you to lose a bit of focus, but you can still clearly feel Ogun cushion your fall.

“Oh wow, this looks like something out of an anime.” Ogun laughs when he finds himself lying flat on his back, you positioned comfortably on top of him. The position was completely ridiculous with your thighs straddling his stomach but you were thankful that you wouldn’t be in any sort of pain later.

“Looks like I’ll need to train harder huh?” You playfully punch Ogun’s shoulder. Even though the whole ordeal only lasted 6 minutes, you could feel your back drenched with sweat. While you couldn’t wait to get in the shower, Ogun seemed content with being in a salty state. “You’re dripping all over me you know?” Your head immediately snapped down to look at Ogun with wide eyes, “Excuse me?”

Ogun had a neutral look on his face not hinting at any humor behind his words. “You’re sweating really bad. Did little ole me get you all worked up?” He had to be teasing you at this point, but you couldn’t find a single crack in his facade. “Yeah well, maybe if you didn’t choose this big ass field with no trees I wouldn’t be 2 seconds from passing out.” You stand up, a bit wobbly, and help him up. “I’m going to go shower, you can stay out here if you want to.”

Ogun happily joins you on the way to the showers. You could hear his excitement from finally beating you. “Don’t get cocky, it was a one-time occurrence Ogun.” An arm is slung over your shoulder. In a smug tone, Ogun mocks you, “Don’t be mad cause you lost. You’ve had enough time to be cocky on your own terms.” You gasp mockingly before turning your head to spit back a remark but lose your breath from how close his face is to yours. At such close proximity, you become aware of small details. How his skin shinned in the sunlight, how Oguns eyes contained such a very specific hue of orange that they mimicked the fire of Sol almost precisely. You even wouldn’t be surprised if they would burn to the touch.

“What’s the matter, got nothing to say?” Out of instinct, you shove his head away with so much force he goes flying before landing on his ass. Before any questions are asked you deflect, “Gross I got your B.O all on my shoulders.” From behind Ogun scoffs, “How dare you, any other fine lady would be blessed to be near my manly musk.” Stifling a laugh you utter one final tease before slipping into the girl’s shower, “Yeah, manly must.”

It was endless labor as your captain followed you around, blowing that damn whistle. Given laundry duty, you had to take multiple shifts back and forth throughout each level of the building to collect everyone’s clothing. When you came across Ogun’s level your job was hindered as you were forced to wait as he sifts through his piles of dirty laundry, “Trush me Y/n, there’s a shirt that I accidentally put in here but it’s actually clean.” “Ogun if it’s in the dirty clothes then it’s dirty.” You try to haul his stuff out but he stops you. “I swear if you don’t move I’ll burn your stuff.”

Ogun chuckles, “You burn my clothes and it’ll catch your clothing as well.” Ogun reaches inside the pile you held pulling out a blank white T-shirt that looked annoyingly similar to the 12 other T-shirts you had watched him toss to the side. “Unless of course, you’re trying to go streaking which by all means I encourage you to.” You ignore his joke and pretend it doesn’t strike a certain feeling in your gut.

For your next task, you had to prepare different levels of activities for a group of 5th graders coming to the company the next day. Of course, Ogun would be assigned to the same task as well so while you worked diligently to bring equipment from the storage room, Ogun spent his time using each of the items incorrectly. “Please stop bouncing the footballs with the tennis racket before you get hurt.” Ogun ignored you as he dribbled with the racket. “Don’t be mad cause you’re not as creative as me.”

Well, as you predicted Ogun ends up getting punted in the face when he tries to toss the football in the hoop. Even though the sound it made on impact was loud and hollow, Ogun barely flinches when it ricochets. “Wow you seem pretty experienced with getting hit in the face with balls, you barely moved.” Ogun glared as he watched you pick up the football. Absentmindedly you spin the football as you speak, “You know if I didn’t know any bet-” Your speech is gargled when your mouth becomes stuffed.

While you weren’t watching Ogun through a basketball at your hand making you push the end of the football in your mouth. “Wow you seem pretty experienced with balls in your mouth, you gotta show me some time.” You cradle your mouth, it throbbed with dull pain and resentment filled your mind. “I’m sure it’ll be easy, there aren’t going to be too many inches stopping me.”

At this point, both your nerves are on high alert, and the energy in the air shifts from playful to angry. “Oh yeah?” Ogun walks slowly and calmly towards you, raising a brow when you stumble back yet still maintain your glare. The hand cradling your jaw is held tightly in his grasp, “Would you like to try?” The dare only eggs you on, “You won’t last a second.” The faint twitch of his temple lets you know you hit a nerve.

*Wheeeeze*

Both you and Ogun’s heads snap to the left. Pan stood at the gym doorway arms waving and whistle blowing, a clear attempt at reprimanding your laziness. The playful aura comes back and you and Ogun are subjected to extra work for your negligence. “This is your fault you know.” he shoots back, “I don’t want to hear it Montgomery.”

Ogun walked down the hallway in search of a new victim to torture, so it was only pure convenience when he stumbled near your living quarters and caught you just before you walked inside. “Y/n! You were absent for dinner.” You take one look at him before dashing into your room. All you wanted was to sleep, training with Ogun, and then having to complete your own set of chores plus extra was tiering. So seeing Ogun wandering out and about during the late hours only met trouble.

You jolt from your train of thought as your door is banged on. “Go away Montgomery, I’m trying to sleep.” Ogun whined, “Well you weren’t trying too hard cause you weren’t in your room yet, now let me in.” You kicked the door back, “No, now go away!”

No sound is heard, not even a shuffle. Sighing you walk towards your bed with a content smile, you’d apologize to him later but now it was your time for rest. Heavy wind billowed through your opened window making you shiver as the curtains tickle your skin. The sharp coolness made your teeth rattle but it was just the right amount of cool you needed in order to head off quickly to dream land. Turning the dial of your lamp, your room is shrouded in darkness and you climb underneath the covers. Nothing could stop the relaxation you were about to receive…….nothing but the feeling of “something ain’t right.”

Opening your eyes and expecting the worse, you are then greeted with the worst as the same fiery eyes you admired hours before, hovered above your face. “You should really close your window.” You scream and throw a punch in Oguns direction but it is in vain as he catches it and pins it down. “I should really get you back for doing that earlier.” Ogun doesn’t make any move to let you go or even speak again. “How the hell did you get there so fast?” You are unable to look away from his eyes, nothing else would have mattered anyway.

More wind blows through your curtains. “I told you I’ve gotten faster.” You can feel his breath caressing your cheek the closer he gets to your face. The hand wrapped around your wrist tightens despite your body being slackened. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah”

No one knows who moved first. All you know is that your pajamas were being ripped off of your body as Ogun aggressively devoured your lips. Tossing everything to the ground, Ogun sits above you, with his shirt was off, you are given the liberty to admire his chiseled body. Ogun makes quick work with fingering you open, watching with a toothy grin as your chest shakes and your breath stutters. “Not talking much now are you?” He doesn’t care if you respond, all he cares about is wearing you down. You pull him closer, nails dragging down his back, as your orgasm overwhelms you. “Ogun!” Your legs are hiked up and over his shoulders as he positions below you.

“Good job, I don’t want to hear anything else but my name.” The stretch was burning and filled you tightly. “How many inches you think that is?” You weakly slap Ogun’s arm as he weakly ruts into you before pulling out completely, “S-Stop making fun of me.” “ Aww, but it’s fun!” Ogun is slow and precise as he mashes his hips forward. There is no hesitation and the pace stays at a fluid toe-curling pressure. “You’re so silent now Y/n. Tell me, how does it feel, huh?” Your back raises from off the bed, “It...good-I oh god!”

The simple fact that you couldn’t speak sent tremors to Oguns cock. He wanted to tease you more, make you break. Your pussy was wet and sopping for him and not even Sol could make him stop fucking you, not when you looked so beautiful underneath him. But a mischievous streak doesn’t go away that easy.

Leaning back on his haunches, you are put back on top of Ogun, the same position you were in when on the feild. He doesn’t move and just looks at you, “What are, what are you doing?” You try to bounce but he holds you down making you pulse around him. “Please let me move.” But he doesn’t, the only movement you get is when you’re held down harder on his cock. “How many inches Y/n?” You shrug, “I don’t freaking know like 5 or something!?” You just wanted to cum not answer a random questionnaire.

Ogun uses his strength to lift you up and slam you back down. “Wrong, try again.” It takes a moment for you to catch the breath that got knocked out at the second stroke. “Do you really want me to stroke your stupid ego, fine 8inches!” You are slammed down again and this time it hits a special spot just short of your G. “Wrong again, don’t be a smart ass Y/n” He rubbed your side. “Come on, play my game for a little bit, don’t you want to cum on my dick?” Oguns hands squeeze your breasts, thumbs rotating the dark circles of your areolas leaving your nipples to tingle in need.

“Si-Six damn it! It has to be like 6.” your answer is mumbled but is loud enough to satisfy Ogun. As if you weighed nothing less than a piece of paper, Ogun uses his thighs to bounce you on his cock. Your chest bounces in his face taking his immature mind to cloud nine. He could feel the tell tell sign of his own orgasms cumming, as your ass slammed down on his shaft. “Stop squeezing down so damn hard!”

Being the person you are, you don’t listen even after you feel Ogun spill inside of you. “Oh fuck!” You rearrange your own legs and start bouncing at your own pace. The tight grip on your waist means nothing as you chase your second cumming. “Hurry up you little shit my balls are burning!” Ogun tossed his head back as his mouth releases cracked moans. His cock continued to twitch as it became softer but still stimulated. Soon, Ogun couldn’t take the stimuli anymore and pushes you down on the bed. The feeling of his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy was a little less satisfying than his cock but you cream around it just as easily.

You lay down giggling while Ogun goes in and out of sleep. “I was right, you didn’t last a second.” “Shut the hell up, you’re like a vice.” Your sweaty state somehow doesn’t bother you as you rest in the afterglow. Your blinds continue to shimmer as the wind continues to blow. “Five and a half.” The numbers mean nothing to your muddled brain, “What?” Ogun looks at you, “5 and a half inches is the correct answer but I appreciate the 6.”

Suddenly the glow was no longer worth it.

#ogun x reader #ogun smut #fire force smut #anime smut #poc reader

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tu-sugar-mami · 3 years

Text

Tales of the side of the road: Day #2)

You can read the first part here

"There you go sir, have a nice night!" You say politely to the customer while handing out the paper bag. The humanoid blob gives you a smile displaying innumerable tiny sharp teeth, wobbling as it leaves through the window. You sigh as you approach the glass to close it after the customer has disappeared out of your sight. Outside is freezing, which would be normal in winter but right now is the middle of July. Your eyes snap to look at the water clock and you take a sharp breath as realization hits you. Your stomach ties into a knot knowing that you were right. Each drop is filling the crystal cylinder more and more, way above the red line.

"Oh crap..."

Allow me to explain: Here at Itsy Bitchy Spider we value responsibility and punctuality. There are several rules that have to be strictly followed in order to keep the shop working without any major, ajem... inconveniences. Not following correctly said rules can result in highly catastrophic situations. And just a reminder; we're not responsible for any damage received by your person.

Even though you keep telling yourself that it'll be the last time you always forget something, whether that be not changing the dying glow stick in the back alley or forgetting to feed Chuy. This time, an hour has passed without you noticing and you know you fucked up.

Without missing another second you run as fast as your legs can carry you and hurry to close all entrances to the building. You grab the plastic water gun from below the counter and fill it with boiling water from the coffee machine while beating yourself up internally for being so careless yet again.

What a rocky way to end the day, huh? This time though, you're ready for it.

When the ground starts rumbling and the mist starts forming you know it's your turn to charge...

...

....

After the eternal night finally ends and the sun starts rising, with the first rays of sunshine entering through the windows basking the room in a warm welcoming hue, you let yourself relax. The danger is already gone and you can take a break before starting the activities of the day.

Yawning, you go the break room to get your soaked clothes changed and your wounds bandaged before starting to fill the bucket with boiling water to mop the floors. It seems today is going to be nice, and it might be the hard lack of proper sleep or just the blood loss doing its thing but you feel happy.

Where you work a lot of interesting stuff happens at random times of the day. Sometimes you’re not even sure if what you see is real or not, but anyway, they’re paying you to serve anything that comes through the door —or whatever other entrance—, so you really don’t question the odd customers. You wonder when or if the tall lady from the other week will come by today. As you sink the mop on the bucket and start your chore you also wonder if the three girls liked the drinks you gave them. You can’t help but to smile as you remember how the tall woman carried herself with elegance and grace, and her voice held such authority that— right, you still need to feed the raccoon. Ejem, i mean The Raccoon.

Hurrying up to finish scrubbing the floorboards until they’re spotless you go to the back of the store to retrieve a cookie from a very secured cardboard box and proceed to go out, walking through the parking lot until you reach the road. Inhaling as much air as you can you let out a whistle that sounds thunderous in the solitude of the place and wait. A few seconds pass with nothing happening and you get anxious, wondering if The Raccoon has finally decided he wanted to keep the deal no more, but then you hear it; many low whistles answering in return to your own and you see the familiar swarm of giant rats making their hurried way to you from the other side of the pavement like a small army in search of treasure for their leader. You waste no time in leaving the cookie on the ground, carefully and with respect as to no upset them before returning to the building.

So far so good.

It’s an especially long and rough day, contrary to what you first believed, and thanks to your duties and being called by Mark for a special favor more than three times you're exhausted by the end of it. You take a second to look down to your left wrist to the digital watch that is always glued to it, and you suppress a sigh of disappointment. You don’t know why you even bother anymore, it still marks the same hour just like the many other times you checked. You’re not sure what causes it, but normal clocks just freeze here, same with wristwatches and phones. That time in this area passes differently is a fact, and some days can last more than two laps on the water clock, or they can just last half lap before everything is dark and the moon shines dangerously.

This time daylight lasted only one lap before the moon rose and the howls of the wolves could be heard from deep in the forest.

As usual, you’re ready to take the ‘night shift’ head on with three shots of espresso in your system when you hear the jingle of a little bell announcing that a new customer has arrived. You look up from the counter, where you are wrapping orders for Mark, and there she is: The tall lady from the other day.

A big smile spread in your face and you feel like your hunch from the morning was right. It was a good day after all.

“Hi, I see that you came back. What can I offer you today ma’am?”

-------

I need sleep too plz

This one is more in-depth about the story that us simping for our beloved Lady but next chap will be all about her

@thejennystuttle

#lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #re8 #my fic

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7wanderingpaws · 3 years

Text

Always, Yours (8)

(he is back 🥰)

Word count: 6.6K

Warnings: suggestive themes

tags: @geniusloey @taemin-jaemin @wooya1224 @f4ncyvelvet @usernameloaa @kyoongsthetic

Masterlist / story masterlist

<– Previous - Next -->

“Hi, honey,” you spoke up as he finally reached your awaiting figure.

You had Jun still in your grasp and all the triplets were sleeping peacefully in their respective carriers. His eyes roamed over you once, as if making sure you were alright. You knew Baekhyun was anything but hot headed, but you were also aware that you did him dirty. If he was mad, then he’d be rightfully so.

“Sweetheart,” Baekhyun mumbled distractedly as a greeting. His focus was set on you, as if trying not to look elsewhere.

You smiled at him and walked the remaining steps to give him a small hug. As soon as your scent wafted over Baekhyun’s senses, he smiled a small smile and carefully enveloped you in a hug, pressing his forehead to yours and looking down at Jun nestled between your chests. “I missed you, my angel,” he breathed and pressed a quiet, longing peck on your cheek, before leaning lower and kissing the top of Jun’s head. “Hi there, little buddy.”

“I missed you too. Welcome home,” you smiled wider when he looked you in the eyes.

Baekhyun nodded with a smile all too aware that you and him were now in your personal bubble. Eventually he had to address the elephant in the room. Clearing his throat he straightened up, letting his hand slide down your back. “The girls?”

You turned swiftly and finally the both of you faced Sonhee and Junho, each with a baby. You could see Baekhyun’s face going blank, only wanting to greet and retrieve his little baby girls, until he finally looked at the lady next to Lee Junho. His face expression morphed instantly; shock and surprise were an understatement.

“Sonhee?” he asked loudly and to that, the mentioned girl brightened up even more and with her free hand took Junho’s hand, leading him to the both of you.

“Nice to see you again, Baek,” she giggled. “We thought we would help out by giving your sweet wife a ride - me and my boyfriend Junho,” she emphasized and you thanked her through a short eye contact.

You could sense Baekhyun became tense before easing up a bit, his hand that was around your waist now leaving you so he could reach out for his daughters. He didn't know what to ask first; how did Sonhee meet you? Or how did Sonhee come to meet Junho?

“You’re in a relationship?” he finally asked politely as both Junho and Sonhee handed him the carrier baskets, the babies lying inside, sleeping. He thought it was a miracle. Even Junhee wasn’t keen on being up. While waiting for an answer, he looked over the sleeping munchkins, noting the way their faces were so focused on sleeping, lips glistening from saliva as their cheeks were rosy and puffed up. His heart swelled with affection at the sight of his healthy offsprings.

“Yes, we are,” grinned Sonhee and hugged Junho’s arm to herself while Junho nodded in agreement, not talking.

Baekhyun had a lot of thoughts at that moment. Of course, the small anger about spotting you with Junho around was still present, albeit dying down quickly. Seeing his long-time childhood friend was a shock by itself. He would have never thought he’d see you with her out of all people. There was also a sort of relief that Junho was taken but he still had an uneasy feeling about him. Did Sonhee know about Junho coming to seek you in the past?

“You guys met in the village?” questioned Baekhyun, trying to keep the awkward conversation rolling. He felt you move close to him, your arms touching.

“Yes, it’s all surreal to be honest. We first met in Junho’s gym where I work in the baby corner,” Sonhee told him, smiley and cheerful. “We didn’t know we come from the same village and even though her last name is Byun, there are still quite a lot of Byuns around, so I couldn’t connect it to you.”

“How long have you been together?”

“Three years,” replied Junho, his face calm and collected.

Baekhyun met his eye, nodding. “I see. That’s great. Thanks a lot for bringing my family home safely.”

Baekhyun found himself internally cringing. He already once thanked Junho for bringing his wife home. It just enhanced the fact that he was never around when the family needed him.

“The pleasure is ours, Baek,” mumbled gently Sonhee. There was something in her eyes that you couldn't decipher. “We will keep in touch. Go up and rest, both of you.”

You nodded and went to hug Sonhee from the side since you had Jun on your chest. You noticed Baekhyun and Junho nodding at each other before you stepped back.

“I’ll text you soon,” promised Sonhee and looked at the babies for the last time. “I hope to see you soon, little biscuits.”

You smiled at the term and said bye to the couple. Before you knew it, you were already walking inside the building to the elevators, the tension leaving your body after separating from Junho.

“So happy to be home,” you smiled pleasantly.

Baekhyun hummed, throwing you a gentle smile himself when he pressed the button for your floor and the doors closed.

“Were the babies okay?” he asked you quietly and looked at the still sleeping girls in the baskets.

“Yeah, they were all fine, don’t worry,” you reassured him as you observed his face. His hair was longer and fluffy and fell over his forehead, making him look younger. Wordlessly you reached up and brushed away some strands so they wouldn’t obscure his vision. “Are you okay, baby?”

He hummed, reciprocating now the eye contact. “Much better now that you guys are home with me. I didn’t like coming home to an empty apartment.”

You tiptoed to peck him on the lips just when the elevator stopped and you arrived at your floor. “We are together now.”

You were fast to type in the code and step in the apartment that you left one week ago.

You left it quite in distress and exhaustion, and you couldn’t have been more relieved at how refreshed and happy you were to be back.

Baekhyun already opened the windows and you heard the washing machine working. He must have already started on the chores. “Let's put them in their crib,” he told you. Quickly following him, you undid the safety straps around Jun, trying to be as quiet as possible, and lowered him in his baby blue blanket. He stirred a little, whimpering, but you shushed him gently and rubbed his head which worked right away.

Baekhyun didn’t have problems with Juna but the crybaby Junhee was always a little nightmare. As soon as he placed her on the baby yellow blanket, she scrunched up her face and let out a wail, unsatisfied with the placement. He, just like you, shushed her while caressing her soft baby hair but she wasn’t that easy to convince. So his hand went to rub on her belly gently as he whispered: “It’s okay, daddy’s here. Sleep, sweetheart, sleep.”

He could feel her tummy going up and down, the muscles tightening frantically but a few more careful drags of air and she gradually relaxed. He didn’t stop caressing her even after she went silent and fell back into her slumber, worried she would start crying. His palm could feel the nappy underneath her overall, and hear the way it rustled gently under his touch. Each baby was dressed in overalls, covering their feet and hands. It wouldn't be long before they would grow them out and the clothes would be exchanged with bigger ones.

You giggled into your palm and left him in the room to go clean yourself up. Baekhyun wasn’t dependent on you with the babies and you knew he could take equally good care of them as you did.

After a thorough shower and collecting all of yours and babies clothes, you went into the washing room and put them in the basket, ready to wash once Baekhyun’s batch was done.

You found your husband sitting on the stool chair,waiting for you. He smiled when he saw you approaching and he opened his arms widely so you could finally greet him properly. His arms enveloped around your waist, your figure standing between his legs. You buried your face in his neck and smelled that familiar scent of his.

Ah, finally, finally.

His grip tightened and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. “I missed you so much.”

You smiled. Even though you texted and called and kept reminding how much you missed one another while being separated, he still had to remind you.

“I missed you too. It wasn’t the same without you back home.”

He pulled away far enough to see your face up close. “Speaking of home - what exactly happened, baby?” he asked and eyed your lips. He pecked you quickly as if to say I’m not mad but please explain. “You know… I asked you something before I left.”

You sighed but affectionately. Naturally, your hand went to cup his soft cheek and he leaned into the touch, keeping the eye contact. “I know, and I promise I felt guilty for not telling you but I didn’t want you to be worried or get mad. We met in the middle of the week— well, more like Kyunga’s younger sister brought us together. She is friends with Sonhee’s sibling and this is how he came to hang out.”

“You already met a few days ago?” Baekhyun was hurt as he frowned gently, pouting. Both of you were in close touch with each other while he was in Japan and yet you didn’t even mention Sonhee or Junho.

You sucked your lips in, knowing this could hurt him and make him potentially angry at you. “Yeah, but I didn’t want you to worry…”

“Sweetheart.”

“Yes?”

He sighed, his hold around you loosening. “Should I consider you keeping stuff from me as lying? Have you been lying to me? I asked you not to meet Junho and yet you spent time with him.”

Your heart made a painful jump at his accusatory words. “No, no, Baek! I was mostly with Kyunga’s sister and Sonhee, and they explained to me why was Junho acting the way he was-“

“So you’re telling me that Sonhee is okay with Junho following married women and letting him into other people's businesses? She is okay with him eyeing other women that are taken and have children?”

Well, when he put it like that...

You looked at him with wide, innocent eyes as you made a step even closer to him. “Let me tell you what they told me. He has his reasons.”

“It just doesn’t make sense, babe,” Baekhyun reasoned with a hint of seriousness. “And I don’t see how Sonhee is okay with this. Out of all people - Sonhee? She is scared of men and everything that they can potentially do to harm her. What if Junho is also doing something to her?”

You pouted. “Let me explain, honey,” you tried one more time and caressed his cheek, fighting with your own anxiety at a possible fight.

Baekhyun looked you in the eyes, seeing the way you were honest and ready to talk. If you were lying you’d be cowering away from him, he knew that for sure.

With another sigh, he nodded. “You know when I tell you that I trust you, I don’t mean that you should keep any secrets from me. When I say I trust you I expect you to tell me things that can potentially hurt me.” He paused when he saw your prominently growing pout. “Your secrecy doesn’t sit well with me. You’ve kept stuff away from me with your work, then your jealousy and now this. Should we talk about trust again?”

A little taken aback at him pulling out the happenings of the past, you only blinked a few times, feeling guilty. He wasn't wrong. After all, you were a secretive girlfriend and you would understand if he got mad at you keeping stuff away from him again. It wasn't even about Junho. It was about you.

“Hm?” he prodded, tapping your chin from under with his index finger. “Hiding things from me doesn't help. It makes it worse,” he told you in a somber voice, raising his eyebrows.

With a sigh, you quickly tucked some unruly hair behind your ear, feeling like a scolded child. “I know. This is... '' another sigh, “just… can you hear me out? I promise I won't keep anything away from you.”

He observed you for a moment with a calm countenance. He wasn’t being unfair but you also wished he didn’t think of you the way he did.

After sucking his lips in and popping them back out, he uttered: “Tell me everything.”

And with that he took your hand away from his cheek and you almost felt hurt. Then you felt him standing up but he interlaced your fingers and went over to the couch where you sat down, facing each other. He prompted you to talk with an eyebrow raise and you nodded, telling him everything just as he wished. Just as you should have from the beginning.

You managed to become a little emotional when you told Baekhyun about Sonhee’s sister but, of course, he already knew all of it and probably even more. As soon as he saw you tear up, he was fast to hug you to him, shushing you gently while he murmured that it was okay. “Sonhee’s little sister is a happy child. Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

“I’m just… how can the world be so cruel…” you hugged him tighter around his neck and he didn’t respond anymore, instead letting you cry out your heavy heart. He tapped your leg, prompting you to sit on his lap and you did while not leaving the spot in his neck.

“And it made me realize how thankful and lucky I am to have you, Baekhyun oppa,” you weeped. Baekhyun felt the moisture from your tears on his neck, your breathing hot as you exhaled harshly through your pants. He felt the same way you did, and his heart swelled with warmth and love for you. Now that he had you sniffling and crying like this in his arms, he was reminded of a crying Junhee a while back.

“I’m thankful for what we have had since the beginning. I’m thankful that you appreciate me and respect me and that you’re there for the babies whenever you can be. I love you so much,” you said through sobs and squeezed your eyes shut, letting out more tears.

Baekhyun could only continue with rubbing your back, hoping to console you. “I love you so much, sweetheart,” he murmured into your ear. “I’m forever thankful that I have you and our healthy babies. What Sonhee’s father did is animalistic and should be punished by law. But know that both Sonhee’s mother and sister are alright and they are healthy.” He heard you sniffling more and he added: “Don’t cry, it breaks my heart.”

With the help of his words and his soft, shushing voice, you tried to ground yourself. You didn’t realize how much Sonhee’s story affected you and how much you’d been trying not to think about it. Maybe seeing Baekhyun who was the hero of Sonhee’s story made you finally weak and realize just what a gem of a man you were blessed enough to marry and receive his attention.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he shushed gently, and you heaved out one final, heavy sigh. “Everything is alright.”

Licking your dry lips, you pulled away to look at his expectant orbs. He cooed when he saw you, and his hands were on your cheeks, tapping away the tears. “You’re not mad anymore, are you?”

He looked you in the eyes, his more down-wards from the sadness swimming in them. He shook his head. “No, I’m not mad. I was just hurt. Surely you can see why oppa was hurt, right, baby?”

You nodded, pressing your lips together to will the burning tears away. “I’m sorry for making you feel hurt. I’m sorry,” you whispered and leaned your forehead against his.

“That’s okay,” he whispered back and closed his eyes. “As long as nothing happened, it’s alright and forgotten.”

You pecked him in a quick thanks.

You stayed in a comfortable silence for another ten minutes, both of you taking the time to bask in each other’s presence and collecting your thoughts. Not once did his hand stop drawing patterns on your back, the regularity of the action lulling you into a pleasant emptiness you felt after a good cry. Eventually Baekhyun patted your bum gently. “Are you sleeping, my princess?”

You murmured a small no as you laid on his shoulder and his head was resting against the backrest.

“Wanna see what oppa got you from Japan?”

At his words, you perked up with a curious smile. “You didn’t have to, honey.”

“I wanted to,” he said, mirroring your smile. “Just a little something since you’ve never been there.”

You’ve never traveled outside of Korea at all. You didn’t even own a passport but since you got everything you needed in Korea, which was Byun Baekhyun and now the munchkins, you didn’t have the need to travel anywhere unless it was with him.

“Okay.” You pushed yourself off of him and stood up, feeling a little sleepy and tired. It was already dark outside and it looked like rain was about to start pouring. That fact made you even more excited because you didn’t have to go anywhere and you could be cozy with your husband and your munchkins inside.

He took you to your bedroom where he had the bag of various snacks prepared. Among them, a box of matcha green tea that you loved, and even a pretty red lipstick.

You looked at him with questioning eyes. “A lipstick?”

“It’s a Japanese brand,” he told you with a shrug and observed how you turned the product in your fingers. “Red lipstick suits you and I wanted to spoil you for once.”

“You always spoil me,” you told him softly when you looked up at him.

“Well, maybe when we finally get to go on a date together you can wear it for me and spoil me, hm?”

Your heart jumped at his suggestive tone. “Sure, whenever we will get to go on a date,” you added cheekily. Baekhyun groaned but he was amused.

“We will have to bother Chen and Sukyeong again.”

At the mention of Sukyeong’s name your heart deflated. You took notice of the change and you pursed your lips, unsure what these feelings were about.

“Babe? You good?” asked Baekhyun when he saw you becoming distant.

You nodded, snapping back to a smile. You tiptoed and pressed your lips to his cheek. “Thank you for the gift,” you murmured. “I’ll make sure to wear it for you well.

In a second you felt his lips touch yours, not letting you retrieve from his personal space. His arms circled your waist and he took the lipstick in your hand to throw it on the bed before he placed his warm palm on your cheek.

You circled your arms around his neck and hummed when he outlined your lower lip with his tongue. He pressed himself closer to you, savoring the moment that enabled him to finally kiss you.

“Since you were with Junho behind my back, I’m keeping the picture in my phone,” he murmured against your lips when he separated with a wet smooch. “I’m not deleting it.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “But oppa-“

“I said,” he pressed strictly though playfully, and his hands wandered to your bum, fondling with the cheeks before pressing down on them. “You better listen to me, little lady.”

Once again the passion in your tummy was reignited. Baekhyun was gazing at you through hooded eyes, his voice low and warning. It shot electricity down your insides and you squirmed in his arms. “What will you do with it?”

More like, what did I do with it, he thought.

Baekhyun wanted to laugh at your innocence. No matter what he did with you, be it in bed or just play with words, he never could break through your endless innocence. “Hmm, what do you think I’ll do with it?”

You bit your lip, which caught Baekhyun’s eye. “Threaten me with it.”

“What? No, babe, why would I use it against you…”

“I don’t know,” you murmured sheepishly. “If you need to keep it, then…” you blinked your eyes at him, and it made Baekhyun become breathless. “I’d like to make a new one. I want to be satisfied with the picture too, you know?”

Baekhyun had a hard time keeping his cool. He swallowed harshly and he felt like he wasn’t leading the game anymore. You were. “You’d like me to…” he nuzzled your nose, his thumbs resting next to your lips, each pressing down on the corner of them, “take a picture of your body again?” He breathed a kiss on your parted lips, still watching you. “Is that what you’re saying, my little lady?”

Shakily, you breathed him in. “Yeah.” Even when the babies started to whimper and cry in the background, you didn't separate. Intensively looking him in the eye, you were keen on making him quiver.

“Baby,” he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead to yours. “What are you doing to me? I can't just let you leave now.”

Your eyes danced as they tried to count each eyelash that brushed his flushed cheeks. “Not now, but let me prepare better later.”

“What is there to prepare? Your body is a goddess,” he almost hissed and placed his hands on your hips. His eyes were fiery as they reopened, burning into your soul. But he softened up quickly. “But I'll do as you wish.”

You smiled gently, pecking him. Baekhyun was about to deepen the kiss, leaning over you and therefore making you bend backwards with a smile but you stepped back and out of his grip. “Duty calls,” you smirked, untangling yourself. You just heard his flustered laugh as you made your way out of the bedroom, satisfied but very much bothered.

His body heat under the blanket made you feel warm and cozy. You buried your face deeper in his neck, and Baekhyun chuckled quietly at your clinginess. He tightened his arms around you, squeezing your waist and middle to his side.

“You smell like baby oil,” you murmured with appreciation, “I love it.”

While you were working around the house, Baekhyun took good care of the triplets. He missed them more than he thought he would, given how much hard work they were, and he ended up being with them for almost the rest of the day. He bugged you about helping out but you were more than happy to leave him with the crybabies that needed a nappy change every two hours (or sooner).

Throughout the day you saw him playing with the triplets, lying on the playmat with them as he lifted each of them up above his body, then slowly bringing them back down and straight to his puckered lips to kiss their wild laughter away. Their chubby cheeks were protruding, their grins were toothless, and you’d never been happier to hear your babies’ laughter. Baekhyun’s own chuckles were making you realize what happiness truly was, despite being busy and tired.

After lining up each baby, he had told them to wait when their turn was up, because at the airports the planes also patiently wait until it would be their time to take off.

“You’re a helicopter, Juna,” he’d told the clueless baby nonchalantly as he lifted her up. “You’re helping daddy to train biceps too, so I’d say you’re almost a five kilogram weight! How’s that!” With that he had lifted her higher as he made a noise that was supposed to sound like a helicopter, and then swiftly brought her down, Juna’s hysterical laugh resounding in each room of the apartment. At those moments, you had found yourself eagerly snapping pictures and videos from the corner, your own smile hurting your cheeks.

Back to the present, Baekhyun spoke up: “You always smell like baby oil,” he pointed, his breath fanning the top of your head. “I actually went to this shop in Japan and smelled a baby oil just to be reminded of you and our babies,” he admitted. You could hear amusement in his voice and you giggled, hiding your face deeper in his neck. If it was even possible.

“So cute, daddy Baek. You missed the nappy change too?”

He squeezed you in warning. “Yah, don’t tease.”

“Just admit that you didn’t,” you quipped, your lips brushing the skin on his neck. Baekhyun shivered, your light touches making it hard for him to stay focused.

“Okay, I didn’t,” he sulked. “Who does…?”

His fingers ran through your hair, the way he brushed the strands causing ticklish sensations. You brought your face out from his neck and looked at him, caching his glinting eyes. Grinning cheekily, you saw how he registered your mischief and responded with an equally cheeky smile before you leaned in, pecking him on the lips, too quickly for his lips to react and therefore accidentally kissing his teeth.

“Oh, wait, that didn’t count,” he protested with a laugh, “one more.”

“Hmm, I don’t know…”

He squeezed you again and you laughed. “One more, that’s not fair.” He puckered his lips and you had to suppress a wide smile at the way he looked so cute and soft and just so cuddle-worthy.

You leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to his awaiting lips, making a little smooch sound. “Mmm, that’s better.” But you didn’t stop, instead leaned in again and this time opened your lips slightly, catching his upper one between yours. You enveloped yourself lips around it, bringing it into your mouth and Baekhyun instantly closed his eyes at the moist feel of your mouth. A low moan rumbled in his throat when he let you lead the kiss that grew passionate within seconds.

Soon enough, you climbed over him, straddling his waist while being careful not to touch an inappropriate part. His hands slid around your naked thighs, the palms outlining their shape as they made their way to your backside, caressing and massaging the mounds that poked out from under the shirt’s hem.

God, you missed him and his presence.

He deepened the kiss when he licked into your mouth, challenging your dominance in the kiss. Your hands were in his hair and on his cheeks and neck before they dove back into his soft strands. One of his hands wandered inside your shirt, the trailing fingertips tickling the untouched skin on your hips and sides. You opened your mouth with a loud exhale and Baekhyun hummed again when you shimmied on his middle. Your hands now caressed his chest and pectorals, loving the feel of the ridges under your palms.

“Ah, babe,” you groaned when he cupped your mound and massaged it gently. He chased your lips as he lifted his head up a bit, tipping his chin up to reach your pink lips.

He moaned at the feel of the fullness of your breast and you were becoming affected quickly as well, heartbeat speeding up, his touches electrifying you into a sighing, whimpering mess.

“Hell, I need you,” he practically groaned into your mouth. He had been restless throughout the day, fighting the urge to take you just like that whenever he saw you as much as lean over the babies or feed them. The time he spent away from his family gave him a good idea of what was important in his life. Though time made him yearn for you more, he also realized that he just wanted to make you feel good, too. Having hardships with triplets, he had to make sure you would have some good time with him when the time allowed it.

Also, he almost couldn't believe the words you uttered today, only irking him more and making him curious about this new part of you that he and you were discovering at the same time. Baekhyun started to believe that whatever game he would start with you, you would continue.

You whimpered and pushed yourself lower so that you could tease him where he needed you the most. Baekhyun groaned loudly, head craning back to reveal his smooth neck that you didn't hesitate to kiss and bite gently, so as not to mark the skin.

“Missed me, oppa?” you breathed eagerly.

“Yeah, I missed my sweetest sweetheart so much, but,” he trailed off as one hand went up to cup your cheek, “now you have an idea what oppa had your photo for.” With a cheeky wink, he kissed you again and you swore you felt even more aroused than before, the whole idea of Baekhyun doing stuff while looking at the—

He made you squeal as he switched positions, your back gently colliding with the mattress as you tried to quieten your laugh. He nestled himself between your legs and with a bright, boyish smile dived back to kiss you senseless.

Even though he had your photo, a real you could never compare.

The next day you awoke too early, even before your babies could do the job for you. You were a little warm, and you had a queasy feeling in your tummy, almost as if you were nauseous. Quickly recollecting what you had the day before, you concluded you didn’t eat anything out of the ordinary. Yet the undeniable reflex to gag was still there.

You turned to the other side, facing Baekhyun who was still fast asleep. His bare shoulders were poking out from beneath the comforter and his hair was messy, most probably due to what you did last night.

You admired his sleeping features and he seemed so peaceful. There was a lot happening for him and you chastised yourself for giving him more things to worry about. Slowly you reached out and brushed some hair away from his eyes, his slumber so deep he didn’t even budge at your silk touch.

Since the uncomfortable feeling wasn’t going away, you slid out of the warm sheets quietly. You ignored the gentle throbbing between your legs and thighs, and went to the bathroom. Cold water and freshening up should be the cure to everything.

You were a little alarmed, because it couldn’t be what you were scared it could be. With a cringe, you remembered how last night went as well. Unable to pull out, passion and desire too strong to be careful about what consequences the action could lead to. And you could only slap your forehead for being irresponsible like that. Neither of you were horny teenagers, so why had it been so hard to behave recently?

“It’s impossible,” you murmured to yourself after finishing a quick, cold shower to make the feeling go away. “I can’t be pregnant...”

Thankfully, the shower did its magic and you made your way to the kitchen, ready to prepare breakfast and Baekhyun’s lunch for work.

Only then you were able to process something that you had completely forgotten about yesterday.

Kyunghee and the YouTube channel.

You were stirring the morning porridge when you pulled out your phone with a haste, your heart beating just a little faster than it was normal. Just as expected, you found many unopened messages from an eager Kyunghee. She linked the video in your chatroom and when you clicked on it, you were immediately met with your parents' house and her cheerful: “I'm at the Byun's!”

Your eyes automatically darted to the viewer count and your eyes doubled in size. “What!”

“What what?”

You whirled around from the stove to spot Baekhyun emerging from your bedroom, buttoning up his white shirt, the action immediately catching your eye. He was giving you a questioning look as he smirked.

“I just…” you sighed inwardly when you had yet another thing that you didn’t mention to him. Even though you didn’t fight, you were worried this would tick your husband off for real. You quickly turned off the stove and faced him.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he murmured, finishing the last button. He caressed your lower back after stopping in front of you, a hum following the action to coax you into talking. It was unconscious but you squeezed the phone in your hands and braced yourself.

“Honey, so you know how Kyunghee spent a lot of time with me and our munchkins?” you started, carefully picking your words as you stood up straight to face him. Your hand smoothened his chest, the surface dipping with the outline of his pectoral underneath. You went on to finger the buttons, innocently blinking up at him to ease the severity of your news to him.

Honestly, you yourself had no clue what to think of this. Your face wasn’t visible in the videos but your babies were exposed.

“Baby, as much as I’d love to give you time, I’ve got a morning lecture to do,” spoke up Baekhyun after going quiet on him. “Tell me.”

“So… Uh, Kyunghee is doing Youtube and she happened to make a video about me and our babies and so she uploaded that video and now it has almost one million views though yesterday it was only the half of it and I had no clue it will-“

“She what? The youtube video has… what,” he breathed in disbelief.

“Yeah, she uploaded a video and now it is trending and-“

“Show me,” he said, not waiting for you, instead stepping away so he could reach for your phone.

Your hand shot out to grab it and you blurted: “Maybe once you’re back!”

“Oh, darling, you just said my family is exposed to almost a million people and I should wait until evening to see the video?” he asked, scoffing. “I want to see it now.”

You whimpered, pushing out your lower lip at him. Baekhyun eyed your lip with amusement.

“C’mon, I don’t have a lot of time,” he reminded you with an eyebrow raise.

With a deep sigh, you unlocked your phone and then clicked to play the video. You sat up on the high chair and Baekhyun moved behind you, his arms circling your waist. “I just want to see you guys shine,” he whispered into your ear, kissing the shell of it gently. He didn’t want any funny thoughts entering your mind. Your heart skipped at his gentleness and you finally pressed play.

As you were watching the YouTube video in the kitchen, with his arms nestled under your breasts, you couldn’t help the wide smile whenever you saw your babies and your hands or half of your body.

Baekhyun chuckled lowly at some points; you felt his arms tighten when the video showed you struggling with the babies. Upon Junho appearing together with Sonhee for the slightest of moments, you felt him go a little motionless.

“There were so many people at the market,” you told him with a chirped voice to distract him, “and they were all so talkative and gossipy and just-” you sighed, “paying too much attention to me.”

Baekhyun let out a little laugh, his breath fanning your neck. He knew you were too shy when you received more attention than what you were used to receiving. “I don't like it,” he murmured with a small sigh eventually into your neck while his eyes were taking in the way the village boys were roaming around your stall, your mother diligently consulting the price while some of them were eyeing you. “I don't like them looking at you like that.”

An electric shock ran down your spine when he sounded so husky out of nowhere. Suddenly, you were all too aware of his intimate touch, the way he had you in his arms and his warm breaths on your skin. “It was just a market craze.”

“Market craze? Or my little lady craze?” he whispered.

You pinked under his strong spell; one week apart and you grew weaker. Baekhyun's power would always have the same magic it had on you years ago. You couldn't run away and hide.

Instead of replying, you only squirmed in his hold, and Baekhyun breathed a kiss on your neck. “I guess we both know the answer.”

You turned your head slightly and caught his eye instantly. “You’re not mad then?”

His features softened. “I’m not mad. I mean… wasn’t it fun? Kyunghee and her comments are so cute and it captures well the reality of having triplets.”

The video ended and Baekhyun reached out for your phone to scroll through the comments while you turned in the chair so you were facing him again. He had a slight frown as his thumb was scrolling too fast for you to catch up.

“Some people want you to reveal your face,” he murmured, engrossed, “and some want more tips from the cute mother. Oh, another one is asking if you have your own YouTube channel!” He looked up at you as if he had light-bulbs lighting up around him.

You shrugged. “I don’t…?”

Baekhyun mimicked your shrug and put your phone down. “But you could…?”

“Huh? Me? A YouTube channel? I don’t even have a camera!”

“Well, how did Kyunghee film?” he asked nonchalantly.

Did he really want that answer? “She got a camera as a gift.”

“No way,” Baekhyun blinked. “Who gives such expensive gifts in our village?”

You shrugged. “Ask her.”

“I’m sure you know it.”

“Well, I forgot!”

He sighed, albeit affectionately but he didn’t bug you. “You can make a video with your phone camera too.”

“I don’t know…” you trailed off, eyes going back down to the wooden floor.

As you tried to avoid his stare you realized that the babies had yet to wake up which was a surprise. They really slept through many hours and even though you checked them after waking up, it was still strange. “I will check the munchkins, they need feeding,” you murmured absolutely not trying to avoid the conversation.

“Honey,” he stopped you as you slid off the chair. “You can think about it and fill up your days with filming, that would be cool, right?”

“You’re right but… I’d have to figure it first out.”

“Just call Kyunghee and ask what she does, I bet she would be super happy to tell you. Especially since she is responsible for your fame now..”

Baekhyun was looking at you with sincere interest and a very sweet smile. He wanted you to give it a go. You seemed quite natural with the baby work, and talking like a good friend to the camera and, he had to admit, the both of you had something not many had - triplets.

And Baekhyun, as much as he tried not being busy, knew he couldn’t be by your and munchkins' side all the time. If this meant you’d finally find a hobby and become a little open to the world, he’d wanted you to try. He wanted you to go back to the way you used to be.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

A/N: The previous chapter ended with “double-trouble” and some of you didnt know what exactly it meant. The issues the couple has arent even directly about Junho anymore - its the communication that OC doesnt do well with Baek. I hope it was clear in this part ^^

Happy weekend! 💛🤗

#exowritersnet #supermwritersnet #baekhyun #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #superm fanfic #baekhyun ff #baekhyun romance #mywritings #AY

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ruthiswriting · 3 years

Text

body of choice

chainsaw man | denji, power, hayakawa aki, gen, 5k | on ao3

“It’s just…” He stopped. “You really don’t care about tits?”

There was a long silence, punctuated only by low buzz of Aki’s desk lamp. “You care about tits,” Aki said finally, “an unusual amount.”

(or: Time off work means that Denji gets to spend a lot of time thinking about what exactly it is that he likes about tits, anyway. Gender is involved. Power helps.)

inspired by my roommate’s headcanon that denji is a trans lesbian and doesnt know it yet! this fic takes place after the international assassin arc but before ch 73.

trigger warning for denji making transphobic statements due to the fact that he doesnt know that being trans is a thing, internalized transphobia, and body dysphoria. general disclaimer that i am not a trans woman but have been known to experience a gender from time to time. enjoy!

They’d all been given time off work, after the Darkness Devil. A leave of absence for Aki to recover, for Power to get her head screwed back on straight, and for Denji to sit and wait for them to be well, since he wasn’t allowed to go on work missions by himself. It was coming to an end soon— Aki had acclimated to his one arm pretty well, and Power didn’t wake up screaming anymore, so they’d be back to work soon.

Still, Denji was running out of ways to fill the empty time. Having nothing to do made him sizzle with nervous energy, waiting for something to do, for a task and directive to achieve. Aki provided the direction of reading materials, movies, and chores— but it still gave him too much time to think.

So it was a lazy afternoon, not long after lunch but still too early for another meal, when Denji asked Power a question.

“Hey, Power,” he said. “You took over a dead body, right?”

She was stretched out on the floor on her back, hugging Meowy in her arms— Aki always said that she held him too tightly, but no matter what Power did the stupid cat purred like a pleased, rusty motorboat. Denji’s question made her stall, frowning as Meowy squirmed. “Eh?”

“That’s what Aki said a fiend was,” Denji said, rolling onto his elbow to look at her from the couch. “A devil that took over a human’s dead body. So you did that, right?”

She paused, thinking this over— reaching for something hidden in her memory. Then her eyes widened, and she sat up. “That’s right,” she said, suddenly triumphant. She rubbed one finger under her nose, pivoting Meowy to rest awkwardly in the crook of her other arm. “I forgot… The way Power was born!”

There was the beginning of the story in the gleam of her eyes— something that would go on, and be uninteresting and mostly nonsensical. “Yeah, I don’t really care about any of that,” Denji said, before she could begin. “I was just wondering, like,” he paused, and one hand rose up, like he could better form the thought if he could grab it. “…Why’d you end up picking the body you did?”

“I used whatever was convenient,” she said. “Of course, my body is the best body I could have gotten. Tis one of the reasons I am so perfect.”

“So you didn’t care about what it looked like?”

Power sniffed, immediately dismissive of the question. “Only humans care about things like that,” she said. Denji could tell she was starting to lose interest in the conversation— she was starting to lift Meowy in front of her, the cat’s little arms jutting awkwardly toward her as his body dangled. “It is very sad! The only good devil feature I have now are my horns… Human bodies really are so unappealing. And they all look the same.”

This caught Denji off guard. He slid forward on the couch, trying to get Power’s attention again to argue. “Huh? That’s not true at all. We all look completely different. Like, you don’t look anything like me. And Aki looks super different from us…” His argument warmed up slowly as he cooked it over, and suddenly, he was invigorated. “We all look super fucking different! That’s crazy.”

“What are you two talking about?” Aki appeared in the doorframe, his one remaining arm wrapped over the white laundry basket he’d been struggling with the whole day.

“Denji is jealous of my perfect body,” Power said.

“No way!”

Before Power could say anything else stupid, Meowy squirmed over her shoulder to land on the ground behind her with a thump. She wheeled again to grab at him, but he scooted comfortably out of her arm’s reach to vanish under the couch, curling his patchy tail around his feet. “Meowy!”

Denji pointed at her, victorious. “That’s what you get. He’s not gonna come out for the rest of the day.”

“You two, stop fighting,” Aki said, before Power’s high pitched whine could end in a yell. “Denji, help me hang up the laundry. And Power, you need to clean Meowy’s litter box. It stinks.”

“Meowy should be allowed to shit wherever he wants,” Power grumbled.

“He does shit wherever he wants,” Aki said. “He just has better manners than you.”

As he stood on the balcony with Aki, picking up shirts one by one to hang, Power’s words continued to turn in Denji’s chest, until they finally stopped to lodge themselves there at an uncomfortable angle. It felt like he’d swallowed a piece of food before chewing it all the way through, and some piece was sticking there. His breaths couldn’t dislodge it.

Was he jealous of Power’s body?

No. There was no way. Why would he want a body like Power’s?

He’d seen a lot of Power’s body. All of it, actually. He knew what it looked like, what it felt like— even what it tasted like, not that he’d wanted to drink her blood. And he’d decided, pretty thoroughly, he wasn’t interested. Whatever exciting mystery lay under a girl’s clothes had fallen flat when it was attached to Power.

But maybe there was something else to want about her body? Something not about sex, or touch. He couldn’t name it. Or maybe, eventually, he could name it— but he definitely shouldn’t.

Laundry ended with hanging their spare public safety uniforms, all in an identical line. Denji was bigger than Power, and Aki was taller than both of them— still, they were all close enough in size that their clothes could easily mingle together in a confused heap. Denji had gotten halfway through getting dressed into Power’s too-small clothes to know he couldn’t wear her pant size, but on the line they almost looked identical. Empty squares of fabric, wafting in the warm breeze. When the sleeves moved, they looked like they were waving in time.

“You’re thinking about something,” Aki said.

He was kneeling by the now empty laundry basket, because even though Denji could have hung the laundry by himself in about the same amount of time, Aki had insistently stayed to pass the laundry to him. Denji guessed he just didn’t like being able to finish the stuff he could before, when he had both arms, and that maybe if he stuck around to the end of the task it was like he could do it anyway. But also, it felt like he was watching Denji. Waiting for something important.

Denji clipped the last shirt up, letting the clothespin clap shut around the starched white collar. “It’s nothin’ important,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

The next day, Denji remembered something that brought him back to Power, reading through a manga that Aki had brought home from the conbini.

“I thought of something else about what you said that doesn’t make sense,” Denji said, standing over her.

She had to move the volume down out of her face to look at him, scowling immediately at the interruption. “What?”

“You said that you don’t care about your body, but you do,” Denji said, accusatory. “You wore those— fake boob things. Why the hell would you do that if you didn’t care about what your body looked like?”

She stared at him, and Denji could see from her expression, instantly, she’d forgotten the whole conversation already. Power forgot about a lot of shit, admittedly, but for some reason it felt like a bad sign— like Denji was putting way too much thought into something stupid. He went on pointlessly to add, “you know— what we talked about. How you said human bodies are gross…”

“Correct. Human bodies are gross,” Power said, instantly confident even if she’d forgotten the context. “But there are ways to make them less gross.”

She sat up, throwing the magazine aside. Denji jerked back, out of the circumference of her turning legs, and watched her draw herself up. “It is also helpful to have large breasts,” she said, confident. “Because many people desire them, and so they act in useful ways— like when you helped me save Meowy.” She folded her legs under her and crossed her arms, with sudden finality.“Isn’t that right?”

“Well— yeah,” Denji said. “But you couldn’t have known I would do that before we met…” His eyes flickered to her chest automatically at the memory— she wasn’t wearing them right now, so her t-shirt hung loosely against her body.

“But I knew humans are disgusting. And that they would be interested in me having larger breasts.” She crossed her arms and legs at once, forming a defiant pretzel. “Maybe you should try it some time, Denji.”

Any further argument Denji had against this line of reasoning immediately evaporated. He felt his face flush instantly, and he struggled for words— or anything at all, really. “What—“ he stopped, sputtering. “Don’t be fucking stupid! I can’t have tits, I’m a guy.”

“Why not?”

He stared at her, bewildered. “Cause— cause guys don’t have tits.”

It was so obvious it felt stupid to say— but even with it being obvious it felt like a weak argument. Power wrinkled her nose. “Stupid! Very stupid, Denji. Come with me.” She stood up, briefly on the couch before hopping down next to him. And then, she grabbed his arm and marched him to the bathroom, her fingers making a vise grip against his skin.

“You’re lucky I’m here to help you,” Power said, shutting the bathroom door behind them. This seemed like a bad sign to Denji— Power had to practically be bribed to not leave the door open when shitting, and she didn’t care when they shut the door either. She was trying to cut off his escape route. “Humans are so limited and rigid in their thinking! It’s very boring, so I will help you.”

She was wriggling out of her t-shirt as she talked, discarding it on the floor between them. Then, she ducked her arms behind her back to undo the clasps on her bra. That wasn’t really a big deal— Denji had seen Power naked before, and he’d done her laundry enough times to know what her underwear looked like. But he was starting to feel nervous about wherever this conversation was going. “Power,” he said, eyes flickering to follow her movements, “I don’t know about this.”

“I’m only trying to show you,” she said. “That it is very easy. And that humans do look alike.”

And then, she was pulling his shirt off— Denji choked as the cloth dragged against his mouth, arms jerking up automatically to follow the movement. His shirt joined hers on the floor.

With businesslike hands, Power turned him around so he was staring at the blank drywall. He felt the bra drag around his ribcage. “Whoa— whoa,” Denji yelped.

“Don’t bother fighting me! This is for your own good!” She was snapping the clasps in place, so it was snug against his body. They scratched against his back as they clicked.

Then, she pulled the straps over his arms. Denji felt his eyes drop, to where his cleavage would be, if he had cleavage (but he didn’t because he was a guy, and so he shouldn’t be thinking about this). The rip cord of his chainsaw heart curled awkwardly out between the bra’s lace detailing. He could feel it constrict in his chest— an ugly spasm in reaction to the way it gapped against him.

Power’s hands snaked out from under his armpits. She was holding the breast pads. “Put them on,” she commanded.

Hell no, Denji screamed. Or, well, he thought he screamed. His voice wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, his hand moved, mechanical, to take them from her.

They were pretty much how he remembered the first time— silicone. Kind of squishy, except for an odd firmness in the middle. There was a sticky backing that probably helped keep them from falling off your chest. They also stank, since they lived up against Power’s sweaty unwashed body most of the time.

He raised them to his chest, and after a few moments of arranging, they were on, cool and sticky against his skin.

Power turned him again with one firm hand on his upper arm. Now, they were both facing the mirror— Denji in Power’s bra. Both shirtless. Both, somehow, with tits. She leaned against him and crossed her arms, smirking with satisfaction. “Now you see,” she declared. “We don’t look so different.”

She was wrong, obviously. Denji was taller than Power, and broader shouldered, and just— different. They looked different. Because they were two different people, obviously, but also because Denji wasn’t a chick. No way anyone would buy that he was just from some fake boobs.

But also, he couldn’t stop looking at them. Why? He knew they weren’t real, and also, they were on him. The usual reasons Denji wanted to be looking at tits couldn’t really apply. Especially when Power, who had actual tits, was standing next to him, naked from the waist up.

Of course, he’d already figured out he wasn’t interested in Power, so it made sense that he wasn’t looking at her— except nothing about this situation made sense at all. Especially that some noise, buzzing in the back of his skull constantly, had gone quiet. A feeling that he hadn’t even known was there was gone.

“You can keep them if you want, Denji,” Power said generously. “I only wear the bra because Aki makes me.”

Reality snapped back into place. Denji pushed her away, yanking off the bra. The boob pads unstuck from his body with only a little coaxing, and they fell to the floor with a mushy plap. “Fucking— keep your clothes on, Power!”

Denji ran from the bathroom without reclaiming his shirt, hiding in his room from both Power and whatever he had seen in the mirror. He’d have to come back for the shirt later— Aki always got onto them for leaving their clothes in the bathroom when they showered. But he wanted to be sure that Power would be gone. Power, and her stupid fake boobs, and whatever she’d done to him when she snapped that bra into place.

That night, Aki turned on an old cartoon while he cooked dinner— the sizzle of grease popping over the tinny background music and shouted dialogue. TV always mesmerized Power, although she complained if there wasn’t blood and gore. She still sat close to the screen, blocking the bottom half with the top of her head and horns.

Denji didn’t care about TV, really. It had been kind of novel at first, since his dad had sold the TV set when he was pretty young and they’d never had money for things like movies. But since he’d gotten to watch movies with Makima, watching grainy TV on Aki’s tiny television set had hardly been appealing. But he still watched, apathetic, until his stomach began to twist again.

The show was about some kid who got cursed, so that every time they got wet they’d change from a boy to a girl— or a girl to a boy. Denji wasn’t sure. It seemed pretty inconvenient, honestly. You probably couldn’t plan for being splashed with water in every situation, and the kid didn’t want everyone to know about it, so it just ended up being a lot of dumb shit about the kid managing all the different identities and what people thought he was— or she was. Denji could hardly keep up with his one life, so managing two seemed like a huge hassle.

So he didn’t know he felt so much envy, every time the dumb kid slipped into some water fountain or got dunked in a river. It didn’t make sense to want that. Nothing he was feeling made sense.

He took a shower after dinner. The hot water steamed over the mirror, leaving Denji alone with his thoughts, and the water, trickling over his back. His naked chest.

It was probably something wrong with his head. He knew that already, though—everyone had already made it clear that whatever Denji thought about anything was probably weird and fucked up. This was probably the same sort of thing. Whatever this was.

He rubbed his skin raw with soap and tried not to look down.

It was early in the morning when Denji couldn’t take it anymore.

Without understanding why, he crawled out of bed— over where Power was sprawled, taking up half the space in his bed, like she always ended up doing whenever she passed out there— and crept down the hall to Aki’s room.

When Makima had arranged for Denji to live with Aki, the door to Aki’s room had stayed solidly shut. He hadn’t been explicitly told to stay out, but Denji knew when not to sniff. And it wasn’t like he’d been especially compelled by whatever Aki got up to, so, whatever.

But then, Power had moved in too, along with her near-constant impulse to wreck most of Aki’s possessions and her cat that liked to sleep under Aki’s desk. Aki had waged an intense internal battle between wanting to make sure he could hear when Power was up to shit and wanting to keep at least an illusion of privacy. But at some point, he’d admitted defeat, and the door remained just slightly cracked, even when he was sleeping.

Then, after the Darkness Devil, Power would alternate between sleeping in Denji’s bed and Aki’s, so whatever privacy Aki had attempted to maintain had been thoroughly destroyed. He didn’t seem to care too much anymore anyway— even when it was Denji’s turn Aki always ended up ghosting down the hall to check on them, when he thought they were both asleep.

The light was off, and Denji was at least smart enough to feel bad about bugging Aki when he was definitely asleep, and when Denji should be too. He hovered in front of the door, hand half clenched over the knob, before finally reasoning that he’d known when he’d walked over here that Aki would be asleep, so he might as well follow through. He pulled the door open, and crept into the room.

Denji had seen Aki fall asleep on the couch enough times to know that he slept like the dead. It wasn’t something he understood— it seemed like a pretty big weakness for a devil hunter, if he was being honest. But at this point he at least knew the drill. In the dark, Denji hunted for Aki’s desk lamp, and clicked it on.

The warm yellow bulb cast dozy light over the room. Aki stayed stone still, body half curved on the bed in an uncomfortable contortion. Denji sat next to him, touching his shoulder. “Hey, Aki,” he said, voice a mutter, and felt his ears turn red.

On any other day, Aki would have remained asleep long enough for Denji to back out of this terrible idea. But as Denji hurriedly pulled his hand away, Aki’s nose wrinkled, and he slowly blinked awake. Denji’s shoulders sunk.

“Denji?” Aki’s voice was still thick with sleep, and even in the dim light he squinted like it hurt. “What’s going on? Did Power clog the toilet?”

“It’s not important,” Denji blurted. “Don’t let me bug you, actually.” He stood, planning to leave, but he couldn’t get his feet to unstick from the floor. Every attempt he made just rooted him more solidly in place.

Behind him, Aki’s gaze slowly focused on his back. “…Is everything okay?”

It was a weird sentence, from Aki. He knew it, too— there was something self conscious in the way the words formed, even through his fuzzy concern. But this whole moment was weird, and Denji figured if they both knew it he might as well take advantage of it. He glanced over his shoulder to look at Aki. “I was just, like,” he stalled, trying to find a way to word what was sitting in his chest. “Wanting to know what you thought of something I’ve been thinking about. It’s not important, but, you know…”

The lamp’s bulb was making a weird buzzing noise, filling the dead space between Denji’s fumbling sentences. Aki’s body hadn’t moved, but his eyebrows kept contracting, like if he furrowed them enough he could get to the point of Denji’s sentence. Finally, he said, words slow, “you want my advice.”

Super lame. It sounded so lame when Aki said it, in his weird, grown up way of talking about everything. “Yeah,” Denji said.

Aki looked at Denji. Looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table that was scheduled to go off in three hours (which Denji knew because whenever he couldn’t sleep he could hear Aki start to move at the same time every morning). Looked up, finally, at the ceiling, squinting into nothing. Then, he said, “okay.” And he sat up.

Before he could stop himself, Denji sat again on the bed. This time, Aki drew his legs up, making room for Denji. He waited expectantly for Denji to start talking.

“It’s just..” Denji was glad, suddenly, for the awkward configuration on the bed. Looking at Aki in the eye felt too intense. “You know. I was thinking about…” He took a breath, and said in a burst, “Aki, you’re gay, right?”

The silence suddenly got a lot thicker. Denji could feel the way Aki stared into the side of his head with a new, unwelcome intensity. When he talked, there was a beginning of an aggravated edge to his voice. “Did you wake me up at three in the morning to ask me why I’m gay?”

“No,” Denji said defensively. “It’s just— I’m trying to understand something, okay.”

“Why..” Aki stopped, and ran a hand over his face. He tried again, voice mechanically even. “Why do you think I’m gay?”

This, at least, was an easy one. “Your ears,” Denji said. And he pointed at Aki’s ear, where normally, black stud earrings would poke out from behind his bangs. “They’re both pierced, so like… One of them’s gotta be the gay one, right.”

Aki’s face was beginning to sour at his usual impressive rate. Unusually, though, he made an effort to contain it— to keep his bad mood from running off the edges of his face into the rest of the house. “We can unpack that later,” he said. “What’s your point?”

Denji wasn’t sure, was the thing. He wasn’t sure what his point was— only that there was this unknown thing lurking in the base of his stomach, something he didn’t know was good or not. He tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, like the answer was living up there. “It’s just…” He stopped. “You really don’t care about tits?”

There was a long silence, punctuated only by low buzz of Aki’s desk lamp. “You care about tits,” Aki said finally, “an unusual amount.”

“Fuck,” Denji said. He rubbed one arm over his eyes. “I know you think it’s stupid, okay. It’s...” He didn’t know. He didn’t know what it was.

Aki’s head tilted, just a little— the lamp shadowing the way he squinted at Denji. But then, he said, voice slow, ponderous: “are you thinking you don’t care about tits? And that…” He raised his eyebrow, leaving the connection for Denji to make.

“I’m not gay,” Denji said, voice definitive.

Aki didn’t argue this point. He nodded, willing to accept it without trouble. “But there’s something else about it that bothers you,” he said. “Like…” He paused, slowly feeling out his words. “That you think what you want about them— might not be normal?”

They were statements of fact, made carefully— Aki watching his reaction between every minute word. So Denji knew that he saw the way his shoulders shriveled, inching away from whatever Aki was arriving to. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore,” he mumbled.

“Why not?”

Denji stared down at his hands. His hands, resting on his legs, and the curve of his stomach against his boxers. “When all those assassins were coming after me,” he said finally. “One of them said… That some things you’re just better not knowing about. So, maybe it’s one of those things.”

Aki considered. “I suppose that can be true in some cases,” he allowed. “But I’d rather know the truth, however painful. …And I don’t think it really is one of those things, this time.”

“So what do you think it is?” Denji challenged him, finally turning his head to look Aki in the eye. “You’ve got something in mind, right? You wouldn’t have said something like that otherwise.”

“Not really.”

Denji couldn’t make out Aki’s face clearly in the dark, so it was hard to tell if he was lying. “Yeah, right,” he said. And he looked away again.

It was a while before Aki responded. Before he said anything, he shifted to be sitting next to Denji— legs close together, the ghost of his empty sleeve batting against Denji’s arm. Denji chanced a look at him, out of the corner of his eyes, but Aki wasn’t meeting his eyes either. He was just looking at some point on the wall. Reflecting.

“Some things you might be better off knowing,” Aki said. “Some things maybe you shouldn’t. But I don’t think it’s wrong to want to get to know yourself better… Even if it’s uncomfortable in the meantime.”

“You do have something in mind,” Denji mumbled.

Aki paused again. “Only based off of what you told me,” he said, voice light. “What you asked me.”

Denji’s vision swam. He squeezed his eyes shut, insistent on blocking out whatever he was feeling, and however Aki was looking at him. “It really doesn’t matter,” he said again, because maybe if he kept saying it it would be true.

The bed creaked, and he felt the mattress rise underneath him as Aki stood. Denji dared to open his eyes to watch him move. Aki was turning to face Denji, so he could use his one remaining arm to push him down to the bed— gently, one hand firm on his shoulder. Denji didn’t fight. He let his body sag, until his head was resting against one of Aki’s lumpy pillows. His eyes kept prickling, so laying down was probably a bad idea. Whatever was burning behind his eyes only got worse the gentler Aki was.

But then, mercifully, Aki turned the lamp off, dropping them both into darkness. He went around to the far side of the bed, and laid next to Denji, a tiny sigh bursting out from behind his lips. Denji felt his throat click.

Aki’s arm cuffed around his head, almost cradling him in the crook of his elbow. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore, if you don’t want to,” he said. “It’s fine if it takes you time to figure it out.”

Denji wanted to protest more. To say that really, there was nothing to figure out, and that Denji was just making a big deal out of nothing. Power had said and done some weird Power shit, and that was all. He could get over it. But at this point, that felt even stupider. So Denji swallowed, and nodded. He didn’t trust his voice anymore, so Aki’s only answer would have to be the way the back of Denji’s neck shifted against his wrist.

Aki didn’t say anything else, only laid against him in the dark, a silent, still presence. Denji drew in breaths until his heart calmed, until he could trust himself to speak. “Should check on Power,” he muttered. “She still gets nightmares sometimes… ‘Specially if she wakes up alone.”

“Right,” Aki murmured. “I can go look— you don’t have to get up.”

“Nah,” Denji said, and he started to sit up.

Before he could get further than his elbows, though, a heavy, furry weight thudded into Denji’s chest. Meowy sank heavily against him, like a furry rock pinning him to the bed.

Denji swore, and in response, Power’s cat meowed in his face. “God, your breath stinks,” he muttered.

“What are you both doing in here?” The vague outline of Power’s body lingered in Aki’s doorway, like a horror movie monster. If a horror movie monster refused to eat vegetables or brush her teeth. “You left me alone, Denji.”

Denji grumbled, still trying to move the cat. “What’s it look like we’re doing? We’re sleeping. And you defeated the Darkness Devil, so it’s fine, right? Nothing bad’s gonna happen. You’re too tough.”

“Not important!” She stepped into the room and the bare sliver of moonlight coming through Aki’s balcony. It made her face white, almost gleaming with sweat. “I knew Meowy wouldn’t leave me for no reason. You two are too weak and pathetic to be left alone! Very good work, Meowy.” She crossed the room to crawl into bed next to them, pressing up against Denji in an insistent effort to fit.

Denji grumbled in protest, but there wasn’t any stopping her— in a matter of seconds she was insistently pretzeled next to him.

“Thanks for watching out for us, Power,” Aki murmured. “Good job.”

He was already falling back asleep. Which was really pretty annoying, because Aki’s bed really wasn’t big enough for the three of them. But if Denji wanted to move, he’d have to drag all of them with him and he just didn’t want to deal with that. So he sighed and wriggled over, making room for Power by jamming himself against Aki’s shoulder.

Meowy slid off his chest like a heavy ooze, landing between him and Power on the crook of his shoulder. Power curled happily around the cat, one arm catching around it to drape across Denji’s chest.

And then, they were asleep again, with just Denji awake. Watching the dawn light start to crawl across the ceiling.

Sometimes, when he was stuck on shit like this, he started to wonder if he had been better off when it was just him and Pochita. Even if he didn’t have money and food, it was less complicated. He didn’t have time to think about things like tits, because he was too busy trying to pay rent, and the bills, and feed him and Pochita. It was harder, but also way, way fucking easier.

Right now, though, it was okay. Denji could stand thinking a little more, if it was like this.

He let his eyes close. This time, he fell asleep.

#chainsaw man #csm #chainsaw man fic #denji chainsaw man #power chainsaw man #aki hayakawa #hayakawa aki

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stonerz4sokka · 3 years

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i rlly like your analysis and interpretation of the characters!! what do you think is the correlation between katara's trauma with being put on the mother role and her relationship with sokka? because it's obvious none of them are the sole parental figure to each other, but for some reasom people seem to think sokka is always irresponsible while katara had to keep him from doing stupid stuff and being his ‘mom’ or whatever. do you think sokka only being able to picture his mom as through katara has to do more with how katara is the girl and what sokka imagines his mother would be in theory, more than the actual dynamic they have in practice?

thank you for the compliment!

short answer; yea you’re pretty much right. here’s the long answer though:

katara had her childhood stripped from her at such a young age and shouldered the domestic and emotional labor both in her home & within the gaang. she performs tasks like washing clothes, sewing sokka’s pants, even in s1ep1 she’s doing the chores while sokka is ‘playing warrior.’ it makes sense for her to do water related chores since... y’know... she’s a waterbender. she can wash clothes way faster than a nonbender like sokka would. but it’s clear that both sokka and katara throughout the show hold gender essentialist values. like when katara tells toph she’s not being ladylike or when she made fun of sokka for carrying a purse and wearing a ponytail. or even when sokka tells aang to not respond to ‘twinkle toes’ because it’s not manly. both sokka and katara grew up in the same environment, so they’ve both internalized these misogynistic beliefs, but since their respective genders are different, how it manifests in their actions differs as well.

it’s safe to say that mothers are more often than not the bearers of emotional and domestic labor, so sokka envisioning katara when trying to remember his mom is actually a reflection on how skewed his understanding of motherhood is, because he genuinely cannot remember his mom like katara does. mothers are more than the domestic and emotional labor they provide, but if you are a young boy who doesn’t remember his mom and holds the belief that women are the natural caretakers, if your sister does those tasks that your mom isn’t there to complete then it makes sense why she’s filled that void. but katara remembers kya, which is why she was so offended when toph said she acted like a mom. she knows the hole her mother’s death left is one she cannot and does not want to fill. katara doesn’t want to shoulder these responsibilities, but she never had a choice. it’s clear from the beginning when she and aang went penguin sledding that she’s just a young girl who wants to have fun.

just like katara was forced to take on more responsibility, so was sokka. going back to TBITIB, look at the precision in his warrior makeup application, how he kneeled at the edge of the village ready to fight knowing he would lose. he’s had a very real understanding of his own and his people’s mortality from a young age. not that katara doesn’t share any of this awareness, but she’s sokka’s little sister, which is a crucial aspect of their dynamic. sokka plays the role of the ‘wet blanket’ so katara can retain at least some of her innocence. even though he’s a boy who insists on fact and logic, he always follows katara down her impulsive paths because she’s his number one priority, period. he doesn’t care how irrational or selfish she’s being, he will always be there to protect her.

your point about people misinterpreting katara’s empathetic and bossy nature as motherhood boils down to three things: 1) a lack of understanding of what motherhood entails, 2) racism & misogyny and 3) lack of experience with youngest sisters OR are the youngest themselves and lack self-awareness. i am not a mother, so i cannot paint an accurate picture of what motherhood is. what i can say, as someone who loves my mom very much, is that if she acted like a 14 year old katara i would’ve died years ago. katara’s trauma forced her to assume certain responsibilities that the target audience of atla couldn’t understand, but that doesn’t mean she’s not a child. if you’ve ever spoken to a fourteen year old you know that one minute they could say something thoughtful & intriguing and the next say something incredibly stupid. she’s still growing as a person and she still deserves to be treated as a child even if her obligations aren’t of one.

it’s also rooted in racialized misogyny because of the notion that traumatized dark-skinned girls are inherently more mature than their light-skinned peers. it strips brown girls of their innocence and acts as if their experiences are ‘justified’ or ‘less harmful’ because naturally, of course, they can handle more. again, katara is still very much a child and is no one’s mother, please stop viewing the brown women in your life as emotional dumpsters. and finally, katara is the youngest sister. i am the youngest sister, and although my relationship with my sibling is one that’s not similar to sokka and katara’s & is too complex and personal to unpack on tumblr.edu, it is a universal fact that we are insufferable. we’re bossy & can be really mean and snarky. it’s in our nature to make our eldest sibling(s)’ life as hard as possible. the “himboification” of my brown king sokka is also rooted in racism & fandom’s general affliction towards critical thinking. y’all literally cannot handle when a brown man is intelligent and the terrible takes around his character shows how y’all don’t actually engage with the text but just view these characters as barbie dolls to dress up with whatever imaginary traits and ‘headcannons’ you pull out your ass.

basically, while sokka leans on katara’s emotional and domestic labor, she also leans on him as the ‘plan guy’ and as her older brother who’ll be there for her no matter what. they both feel strong duties to uphold the sacrifices of their same-gender parent but through their arcs, they subverted their respective gender roles and redefined what being ‘the last waterbender’ and a ‘warrior’ meant. they are both deeply traumatized children who raised one another and are nowhere near capable of raising kids.

#sokka #katara #sokka and katara #analysis #asks #anon #im slowly learning that its impossible for me to give a concise answer #i just love these siblings so much!!! they're the greatest #post s1ep3 all of sokka's sexist moments are honestly just reflections of his own insecurities in his masculinity #anyways i dont trust yall with sokka..... i mean ofc besides ... well you know who u are <3 #and same thing with katara...... i refuse to let yall adulterate the most well written teenage girl in western cinema PERIOD #writing this reminded me of how important their respective relationships with aang are because #he really showed them how to have fun and enjoy things just to enjoy them #anyways #people who dont get sokka dont understand abed and they dont understand wirt!!! let's talk about it #god i hope this is cohesive and answers ur question sometimes i ramble and completely forget what the point of what im writing is because i #get too excited #feel free 2 lmk if this isn't the answer u were looking for

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granny-griffin · 3 years

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Hi guys! This post has content warnings for the following: suicide, incest, abortion, politics, and swearing. I've tagged this post for all of the above, so you should add one or all of them to your blocked tags if you don't want to see it. Stay safe friends!

@arists started a conversation with me on this post. I'm making my own post now so that I don't clog up op's notifications with our discussion. I'll post the relevant screenshots here, but I'm including the link so that you can fact check what happened if you want.

#1 (op's post)

Image Description: "A screenshot of a twitter thread. Sarah Chavez writes, 'It's not hard to see what a pro-life world looks like. It looks like a world with a lot of dead women in it." An article is linked, but the url is cut off. Emily Gould replies to the first tweet, saying, '"Amnesty International reports that suicide now accounts for 57 percent of deaths of pregnant femals ages 10-19 in El Salvador." That's what a "culture of life" looks like.'"

#2 (in the notes of op's post)

Image Description: "granny-griffin replies, 'This. Suicide is an evil we have to prevent. But murder is NEVER the answer. I'm not sure how it even became a viable option. We need a better solution.'"

(note that there is a significant time gap between images #2 and #3)

Image Description: "arists replies, '@granny-griffin the only other "solution" is mandatory vasectomies on males but good luck telling men what you want to force onto their bodies. ntm abortion at 6 weeks isn't fucking murder but science doesn't fucking matter to you.' Then granny-griffin replies, '@arists if you want to start a conversation, then I'm happy to talk! you can dm me or whatever! But if you're just angry, then I'm glad you found an outlet and I hope you feel better soon'"

Image Description: "arists replies, '@granny-griffin go start a conversation with the women of texas' Then granny-griffin replies, '@arists I mean. I am a woman living in texas so that should be pretty easy. I'll try to do that sometime soon! It's always helpful to me to hear other people's perspectives on important issues'"

Image Description: "arists replies '@granny-griffin so you're a traitor then? when you see little girls being forced to birth a product of incest you feel better about yourself? you see women who have a dead baby in their body forced to cary to full at the risk of her life and think "nice job me!!" And you've probably never adopted with makes it even funnier. youre an embodiment ignorance and selfishness.'"

#6 (private message between arists and granny-griffin)

Image Description: "granny-griffin says, 'hey I really. don't want to fight you. I know that you're upset. I think we both want to help women in vulnerable situations, we just have different ideas of how that should work out practically.' In a second text, granny-griffin continues, 'If you need to keep venting, you should do it here. That way if you say something you might regret, it won't be in public'"

Image Description: "arists sends three messages. The first one says, 'I'm not venting I'm saying it how it is' The second one says, 'I've dealt with ill-minded christians like you my entire life I know your strategy' The third one says, 'now go back to the post because I refuse to deal with you behind doors so you can appear "holier than thou" by putting on a fake image'"

Image Description: "granny-griffin sends seven messages. The first one says, 'ok we can do this in public' The second one says 'give me until tonight though I've got school' The third one says 'do you care if I make a separate post? I'll copy all the previous stuff from our conversation and the main post' The fourth one says, 'I just don't want to have a whole conversation on op's thread' The fifth one says, 'it would feel disrespectful almost?' The sixth one says, 'like they have their whole point and I don't want to completely de-rail them' The seventh one says, 'but if you aren't cool with moving them then I can come to wherever is comfortable to you'"

Image Description: "arists says, 'go ahead'"

to preface—airsts I'm still not totally sure what you want out of this. You aren't obligated to respond to anything I say—just like I'm not obligated to respond to you. We don't know each other, and this is kind of an unfortunate way for us to meet. Still, I hope we can have a productive conversation going forward. I'll go through everything and ask questions. You can respond to as many or as few of them as you want.

#3:

The only other solution to what—suicide? unwanted pregnancy? incest? Is that really the only other solution? What are some policies you would like to see implemented to deal with each of these?

How do you define murder? How do you define what a human life is? Are there particular scientific facts or theories you make use of in your definition? If you have time, please either explain them, or reference an article/book/other source that does. I would like to learn! But I understand that fact checking is a lot of work so if you're too busy I understand.

#4:

(A note here—my knowledge of the situation is not as thorough as I would like it to be, but from what I know I'm not satisfied with the way abortion restrictions are being implemented in Texas. What are we doing—reporting each other to the secret police or something? Notifying the authorities of a crime is one thing, but why is there a finder's fee? Why are we sueing each other? This kind of thing will only breed corruption and mistrust.)

#5:

Huh, what am I a traitor to? Women? Is there a point of view that is specifically the "pro-women" point of view? Traitor makes this sound like a war—are there sides? are there good and bad guys? Who gets to define all of this?

No, I don't like it when girls are forced to birth a child conceived in incest. What are some ways that this situation could be prevented? Do you think that easy abortion access could ever perpetuate abuse by allowing abusers to get rid of the evidence of their actions? Is providing abortion services to victims of incest worth this risk? (and I mean that as a legitimate question, not a leading question)

(Another note here—I am pretty sure children who die in the womb can still be born naturally (hence the term "still-born"). But again, my knowledge here is limited and my issue with abortion is largely because of the harm it does to the child. If the child is dead already, and abortion is the only way to remove them, then I don't have a problem with this.)

Do you think adoption is the only way to take care of vulnerable children? Did you know that people who adopt sometimes need help raising funds to do so, or need help with babysitting, or need meals made and chores done for them? Did you know that mothers who raise their own children need these things too? Is this an attack on my argument, or an attack on me (ad hominem)?

Sorry to assume you were venting—I should have asked what your purpose was instead of making assumptions.

Okay but do please tell me—what is my strategy? I am curious to hear your psychoanalysis of me and my goals.

Arists, I'm really sorry if I came off as "holier than thou." I'm not a better person than you. I know that I think I'm right—everybody does. But I do want to be open to hearing and learning from your perspective. Even if you don't change my mind, you can increase my empathy, and that's extremely valuable to me.

okay, that’s it! I’ll wait for your response!

#cw suicide #cw incest #cw abortion #pro life #pro choice #cw politics #cw swearing #long post

15 notes · View notes

katehuntington · 4 years

Text

Title: Ride With Me (part twenty two) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±7650 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part twenty two: Y/N is about to take the stage together with her horse Meadow, but stage fright is making it very difficult to bring the evening to a successful end. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Opening scene: First Defeat - Noah Gundersen, Meadow’s freestyle: Stairway To Heaven, Immigrant Song, Whole Lotta Love - Led Zeppelin. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @atc74, and @winchest09 for helping me. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

Y/N dips the sponge foaming with leather soap in a small bucket of water, and softly moves it in circles over the gullet of Meadow’s cognac colored saddle. Making sure to get into the little curves and edges of the beautifully decorated piece of craftsmanship, she picks up an old toothbrush and gently sweeps the dirt out of the grooves; it’s one of the older tricks in the book.

The maintenance does a lot of things besides calm the mind. It keeps the material supple, stops it from tearing, therefore saddles and bridles last longer. The leather will be soft on the horse’s coat and prevent sores and irritation of the skin. Clean and shiny tack says a lot about a person. They are usually precise, provident, and have a keen eye for detail. Often perfectionists who leave nothing to chance. Y/N is such a person.

Dean watches her, adoration on his features. She hasn’t spotted him yet, too focused on the chore. His hands are buried in the front pockets of his jeans while he leans against the door of the makeshift tack room, where she’s working in silence. He notices how loose hairs have escaped her french braid, how she bites her lip while concentrating. He notices the black smear on her cheek, her hands grimy from the mixture of soap and dirt coming from the saddle. He notices all those little things, and all else he loves about her.

There might be a soft smile on his lips, but his eyes give away how much his heart is hurting. He hasn’t been able to ban the haunting words from his thoughts, nor the realization that came with it; no matter how much time he puts between the past and present, he can’t outrun those dark days. The troubled cowboy wishes he could tell her, but he doesn’t want to drag his girl into this. She would pity him, be disgusted. She would run as far away as she could, and he wouldn’t even blame her if she does just that. The fact that he is unable to be truthful, has him doubt everything they have accomplished. How can he ask her to trust him, when he can’t be honest with her? When he doesn’t even trust himself?

Y/N rises from the small stool to get a cloth from her tack box in order to polish the saddle, when she notices a figure from the corner of her eye. For a second she startles, but then realizes it’s her boyfriend. “How long have you been standing there?” she chuckles. “For a little while,” he admits, the corner of his mouth pulling into a slightly bigger smile. “Didn’t mean to creep you out.” “Don’t worry, you didn’t. Fergus MacLeod on the other hand…” Y/N comments, squirting some shine cream on the cloth.

Before she returns to her stool again to finish the dirty job, Dean steps closer and takes her hand. Desperate for her to ground him, he lets his fingers trace her stained knuckles, taking the cleaning product from her and putting it aside. He focuses on their hold and keeps quiet, being more tentative than conversational. “Dean?” Her voice is laced with confusion and worry, and when he looks up, he sees that her eyes match the warm sound. Willing to do anything to take those concerns away, he cups her face and gently pulls Y/N closer. His lips catch hers, sweetly at first. Dean cherishes the moment when she melts into his touch, deepening the kiss. It doesn’t unsettle him when she unwinds her fingers from his, because he can feel his cowboy hat leave his head, those same fingers now running through his short hair.

Dean takes his time, eyes closed and his long lashes brushing against her cheek. He draws her in, moving his hand up her side as if he’s afraid she might slip away at any moment. There’s a hint of distress in the way he is kissing her, even though she can tell he is trying to hide it. Knowing that now is not the time to question his reasoning, she gives him what he needs so hopelessly. After a long, intimate minute, in the shelter of the small tack room, Dean parts from her. Y/N hopes to see a smile, but his eyes remain closed as he presses his forehead against hers.

“What’s going on?” she encourages, gently. “Nothin’. I’m alright,” he claims, but when she raises her eyebrows at him knowingly, he gives her an explanation, even though it’s not the whole truth. “Fergus MacLeod got under my skin with the way he spoke to you, is all.” “Oh, you mean the pet names?” She scoffs, shaking her head at the memory. “I wouldn’t read into it. He’s an Englishman; they address women like that.” “Still…” Dean rubs the pad of his thumb over her cheek, wiping away the grease. He is beginning to find his footing again. “I’m the only one who gets to call you that.” “And you think I’m the jealous one,” Y/N jokes. “You never call me ‘darling’ or ‘love’ anyway.” He grins at her mockery, especially when she overdoes the accent. His eyes are still sincere as ever. “Because you’re my Yankee,” he says softly.

Her smile becomes brighter, her nickname rolling from his tongue usually having that effect. And for just a second, Dean forgets about all the worry in the world. He kisses her once more, short and sweet this time, daring to take a hold of her gaze now that his mask fits again. “You stood your ground when that stuck up made that offer on Meadow,” he compliments. “You basically told him to go fuck himself. That was pretty badass.”

Shyly, Y/N shrugs. To her it didn’t cost her an ounce of bravery or willpower. She has gotten offers on her horse before, although never one this high. But Fergus could offer a billion, there is no way in hell she will ever let Meadow go. “She’s priceless, Dean,” the cowgirl explains, simply. “I wouldn’t trade her for the world.” “I know,” her boyfriend acknowledges. “All I’m saying is that many would have considered it. The fact that it’s not even an option for you, just shows how much she means to you.” He pauses, admiring the strong minded woman before him. “She’s your soul horse.” “My what?” Y/N recalls, curiously.

Dean chuckles, realizing that it’s not a widely known term. It was Ellen who told him about the special bond between human and horse, when he was younger. It became something that always stuck with him, words he never forgot. “Every equestrian comes across that one horse in their life. The one that stands out from all the others, that captures you, takes up a huge space in here.” He taps two fingers on his chest, right where his heart is. “The one you have this unbreakable bond with, who you trust and trusts you. The one you will never forget,” he explains. “That’s your soul horse.”

Y/N begins to glow, because every word he spoke sounds familiar. Dean is right; Meadow is her soul horse. “I like that,” she says, thinking about his words for a second.

Content, she moves past Dean to pick up the polish, in order for her to return to the task she needs to finish. “What else did the snobby Brit have to say?” she wonders, sitting back down on her stool, beginning to rub the cream onto the horn and the pommel of the saddle. “He bought Jovi and Ringo, actually,” the cowboy elaborates, turning to the side to check out the perfectly clean bridle hanging from the tack box door. He’s giving himself something to focus on, feeling the soft leather under his fingers. “Did he! That’s great, right?” she checks, noticing that her boyfriend isn’t exactly thrilled about the matter. Dean glances at her, forcing a smile. “Yeah, the money is certainly welcome.” “I bet Bobby is pleased,” Y/N assumes, wiping down the saddle one last time before she puts the cover back on. “Did he say anything about our dance last night?” “He didn’t. I think he’s lettin’ it slide.” Dean shrugs. “He’s not someone to discuss this kinda stuff anyway, so I’m guessin’ no word about it is good.” Y/N is willing to accept his reasoning. “Well, alright. If you’re sure it won’t get you into trouble.” “I doubt it, and even if he’d give me a hard time, it’s worth the lecture.” Dean chuckles, glancing down at his boots. “Fergus made another business proposition, too.” The cowgirl gets up and lifts the heavy saddle from its stand, carrying it to the tack box and storing it away. “What’s that?” “He wants me to train one of his horses,” he tells her. Her eyes grow wide as she shuts the door. “A stallion? Dean, that’s huge!” The wrangler chuckles at her enthusiasm. “It’s just the one.”

“Do you realize that this could be the start of something very rewarding? He owns stables full of licensed stallions. It might be a great stepping stone. I mean, look at Jovi and Ringo; they were sold from under you before you could really shine with them,” Y/N brings to mind. “Riding a talented horse for an owner who has no desire to sell because of the money already coming in with stud fees, is really good for you. This could become your big break.”

Dean hasn’t even looked at it that way, but he guesses it’s why his girlfriend is so good in her field. She always thinks five steps ahead, seeing opportunities where another person would just see a lot of work. He remains realistic, though, not wanting to celebrate too quickly. “Well, apparently Cain is a handful, so we’ll see how it goes.” “Wait… Cain?” She was already staring at him in astonishment, but now her jaw almost drops to the floor. “As in the Quarter sired by Dual Ray. The one that went for 1.2 million at the Derby auction?! Shut up!”

“Someone watched the news.” Dean grins, the sight of her girlfriend so perplexed being quite amusing. “But, yeah. He’s arriving at the ranch next week. Depending on how bad his behavioral problems are, he’s staying or leaving. I have a feeling MacLeod isn’t telling the whole story.” “Well, even if Cain’s issues are worse than Fergus let on--” She steps closer, slipping her arms around his neck. “- if anyone can fix him, it’s you.”

The confidence she has in him astonishes the cowboy. He doesn’t deserve it, her never ending support, her faith. Even now, all he’s doing is bullshitting his way through this exchange. He hopes to God Y/N doesn’t pick up on his insecurities, because maybe if she doesn’t, they can stay in this bubble for a little while longer.

Another kiss is pressed on his lips and for just that moment, Dean forgets about the demons that so often torment his mind. Unable to resist her even if he tries, the cowboy reels her in. He can sense his Yankee smile against his mouth and he can’t help to copy her expression. When he can feel her weaken in his hold, however, it is quickly replaced with a look of concern. “You okay?” he asks apprehensively, his grip on her firmer to make sure she doesn’t go down, but thankfully she steadies. “Yeah, just a little lightheaded.” Y/N takes a breath. “I’m fine.” “Did you eat today?” Dean requires, both stern and worried. “No,” she admits. “I can’t eat before a competition. Nerves and all.” “Are you kiddin’ me? You’re not up until 8 PM!” he returns, not having any of it. “Yankee, You gotta eat. I’ll buy you somethin’.” “I wouldn’t be able to take even one bite, Dean. Don’t bother. I’ll have an energy drink before I get on Meadow.” “Oh, hell no. You can’t do your run while low on fuel,” her boyfriend decides, carefully letting her go when he’s sure she has found her balance again. “How about yoghurt? Or some fruit? Did that really just come out of my mouth?” Y/N snorts when she notices the double take at his own suggestions, his nose wrinkling in revulsion, as if he just said something vile and doesn’t even know himself anymore. “Would a smoothie work? I saw a stand by the arena,” Dean offers. She shrugs, appreciating his efforts and not wanting to deny him. “I could try.” “Alright.” He leaves a quick kiss on her mouth and picks up his hat, before he intends to leave the tack room. In the doorway he turns around, his body language showing confusion, yet his eyes sparkle. “I never in my life thought I was gonna say this, but I’m gonna buy a smoothie,” he announces, before shooting her a wink and disappearing. Y/N laughs now, shaking her head at his comical ways. Bless him, at least he’s trying.

7.00 PM. Y/N is back in the tack room where she spent most of her morning cleaning her gear. When there was absolutely nothing left to polish, every bit of brass on her saddle and bridle shining so bright it could quite possibly blind the judges once in the arena, she tried to distract herself another way. She did manage to consume the smoothie her boyfriend brought her, though, much to his delight. It helped, because the dizziness has passed, but a stress headache remains. She sat down for lunch with Benny, Jo and Dean, although she didn’t eat anything. Conversation moved past her like the Arizona autumn breeze that’s blowing across the show grounds.

Afterwards, she assisted Dean with his last ride of the day, this time in the ‘working cow horse’ class, which is a fun combination between reining and managing cattle. After feeding the horses and providing them with water, the crew went to the arena to watch some runs. It only triggered restlessness in her heart that seemed impossible to calm, and it didn’t take long before she returned to the stable. She spent some time with Meadow, her dance partner tonight, simply sitting in the corner of her box, watching the beautiful animal chew on her hay, completely at ease with her owner’s presence.

Now, it’s time to prepare herself. Meadow is already tacked up, waiting in her stall until Y/N is ready, one hind hoof resting on its toe, preserving energy. It’s like the animal knows, since she normally is quite impatient, but right before a competition, she prefers to nap on her feet. It’s a huge contrast to her human, who has trouble controlling her anxiety. The smoothie she had earlier is bubbling inside Y/N, her stomach unsettled. Trying to calm herself by making sure that everything is perfect, she goes through the familiar checklist in her head while the soundtrack of her freestyle plays on her phone.

Dean helped her work out the new routine, thankfully. After setting the bar way too high in her first draft, almost making herself cry when she realized just how impossible it was, he suggested more simple lines, but combinations of the patterns. This is supposed to kick up the degree of difficulty without the floorplan being a tangled mess, and highlights Meadow’s strengths. What she had to figure out next, was what kind of music she wanted to ride to.

Her boyfriend contacted Ash, who was more than willing to edit the tunes for the intern. When she offered Dean the idea, she knew it was a hit when she saw his eyes twinkle. They took the request to the former ranch hand, who went to work and knocked it out of the park. Honestly, a part of Y/N cannot wait to ride her new freestyle, but she’s also downright petrified. What if she screws up? What if she forgets her routine? What if she doesn’t nail it, with Congress only two weeks away? What if she fails?

Everything is ready, all she needs to do is change into her show outfit. Y/N strips down, switching her blue jeans and plaid shirt for black. The back of her button up is decorated with golden studs in the shape of a guitar, and so are the cuffs and shoulders. During a freestyle the rider is allowed to ‘dress up’ and add elements in the arena, make a show of it. Although she’s not a fan of the whole circus act, and much rather prefers to let her performance do the talking and convincing, she wasn’t resenting the idea Ash offered when they listened to the soundtrack. Ellen helped her sow on the miniature pyramid-shaped beads, and the end result is better than Y/N could have hoped for.

The focused competitor slips into her onyx chaps which she just took out, and laces the leather strap through the belt loop of her jeans. She then continues to unpack her cowboy boots, which are the same color as Meadow’s fiery brown tack, shining just as bright. Her brass spurs follow, the rowel jingling when she turns to take a round box from the top, unzipping the lid. The beautiful Milano hat inside has her smile down on the crafted head piece; it was a Christmas gift from her parents. One she received right before her first show with the Quarter mare, the horse who gives her so much more than she could ever hope for. She picks it up by the crown and places it on her smooth hair which Jo braided earlier, the action raising a sense of pride in her chest. The hat makes the outfit, but it comes along with so much more. It gives back some of the confidence her insecurities took away. She’s a cowgirl, in heart and soul.

Last but not least, she takes an object from the same container that safeguarded the Milano. Reminiscing, Y/N draws her thumb over the gold plated metal, feeling the edges of the letters and symbols under her fingertip; it’s her State Championship belt buckle. She closes her eyes, the memories of that epic run flooding her thoughts welcomingly. The stadium spotlights, the roaring crowd, her name in bright letters on the scoreboard. And then that indescribable feeling of horse and rider becoming one, the thrill of coming down that centerline and just knowing that this was going to be their moment, the ride of their lives. She will be in seventh heaven if she manages to get even remotely close to the pinnacle they reached that day.

Footsteps draw her back to reality, the dry ground crunching under heavy boots in the alleyway between the stables. Y/N doesn’t question who it is, Dean promised to help her with the warmup, and since she has stated in her very detailed schedule that she is going to get on her horse ten minutes from now, she is expecting his arrival. Turning around, she meets his astonished gaze in the doorway, his jaw slightly ajar. “Do you think I’d be showing off if I wear this?” she wonders, offering him a look at the coveted buckle.

But Dean only has eyes for a different prize. He needs a moment to recover from the sight of his girlfriend. She’s drop dead gorgeous after a morning muck out, with hay in her messy locks and dust sticking to her damp skin. But now, dressed in her black show outfit, her hair braided and her make-up bringing out the color of her eyes even more, he can’t help but stammer. He chuckles warmly, a blush on his cheeks. “You look - you look amazing.”

His reaction draws a smile on her lips, but she’s too anxious to really appreciate the compliment. There is a time schedule to be considered after all. “My State Champion buckle, or a simple one?” she asks him again, not daring to make the call herself. Dean takes the shiny object, tilting it to admire the award. ‘AQHA State Champion - Maine, 2008’ it says, the inscription curved around a horse’s head, edged in silver and gold. “Wear it,” he decides. “You won that championship fair and square.” “Yeah, I know, it’s just that--” She pauses, fiddling to close the buttons on her cuffs. “I don’t wanna fail to meet everyone's expectations.” The cowboy looks up at her from under his lashes, his green eyes reading her for a second. “Everyone’s expectations? Or your own?”

Dean has a solid point, but evaluating thought processes is not something she needs right now. She sighs and tries to bury her frustrations, very much aware that she snaps easily when she’s on edge like she is now. It wouldn’t be the first time that she loses her cool with someone who is actually there to support her, it usually being either her parents or her brothers. She doesn’t want her boyfriend to endure the same unreasonable behavior, and so she shrugs at that. “I don’t know, really. I mean, yes, I expect a lot from myself, but the thought that people on the sideline, like Bobby, Jody, Donna… you, will judge my every move,” she pauses, letting an anxious sigh fall from her lips. “It honestly makes me feel sick.”

“You shouldn’t let it get to you like that,” Dean suggests, handing her back the buckle. “Yeah, well, that’s easier said than done,” she returns, the edge of her voice much sharper than she meant to come out. While pulling her belt through the loops, she briefly looks up, noticing his head cocked back slightly while his brows meet his hairline, which triggers her to mutter an apology. “Sorry.”

He can see the embarrassment in her stance as she turns her gaze to the floor. The slight offense he took desolates, making room for sympathy. He can tell she’s struggling to cope with the nerves and the pressure she is under, pressure she shouldn’t even be experiencing. This competition is a practice run, an environment to test her new freestyle and get back into the rhythm of the shows after a long break. However, he understands that downgrading this event will not do her any good. What he needs to convince her of, is to believe in herself, like he believes in her.

“Yankee, you’re never gonna fail my expectations. The way I see you doesn’t stand or fall with this performance, or any.” He takes her hands in his, squeezing them softly in order to prevent her from getting lost in that dark forest of negative thoughts. “I get that you want to prove yourself, but it ain’t necessary. The girls already love you, and the fact that Bobby didn’t rip me a new one for kissing you last night proves a point too. All that won’t change after today’s run.”

Carefully, Y/N glances up, met by the sight of empathy swimming in mystic green eyes. “I’m here to back you up, okay? I’ll help you with the warm up, and Jo will be there to assist. It’s gonna be fine. Your horse is awesome, your freestyle is awesome, you are awesome,” he reassures, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Now get your fine butt on that horse.” She takes a slow breath, the smile that his words surface saying just how much that means to her. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

With Meadow’s bridle in hand, she exits the tack room, feeling somewhat lighter than she did ten minutes ago. Dean’s kind words and endless support doesn’t take away the anxiety entirely, but it has enough of an effect to have her believe that maybe, just maybe, she is going to survive this evening. At least he is by her side, not just as her man, but as her trainer as well, and with the way he has been with her so far, she can already tell how different he is from her former instructor. No list of exercises she needs to go through during the warm up, no ‘do this’ or ‘don’t do that’ while she’s preparing to get on her horse. It’s a huge contrast, but one for the better. Maybe Dean is right, maybe it is going to be fine.

Dean looks up when he notices someone approaching from the corner of his eye, the small framed silhouette with a dancing ponytail unmistakably Jo’s. She has a bucket half full with water in one hand with a sponge floating on the surface, a rag hanging from her back pocket and a groom bag over her shoulder. “You ready, sis?” she asks, popping her head over the stable door. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Y/N sighs, tightening the sinch. “You’re gonna do great. Especially with your lover whispering in your ear.” She hands them both a headset, one with a small microphone for Dean and one with an earpiece for her best friend. “Keep it clean, no heavy breathing. The poor girl needs to stay focused.”

The cowboy glares at his cousin, but he bites his tongue, simply because the comment made his girl let out a laugh. Instead he turns on the small device and pushes it in his pocket, secures the mic to the collar of his shirt. Y/N clips the headset behind her belt as well and pushes the bud into her ear. After holding the bit in front of Meadow’s mouth for her to accept, her owner pulls the crown piece of the bridle over her horse’s ears, securing the straps. Focused on her task at hand, she notices a crucial element missing. “Crap, Grandpa’s pendant,” she realizes, pushing the reins into Jo’s hand before rushing back into the tack box.

A moment later, she returns with a small suede bag in her hand, from which she carefully allows a piece of jewelry to roll into her hand. Curious, Dean watches her pick it up between her delicate fingers, after which she attaches it to Meadow’s bridle. Two beads are laced onto a thin leather cord, and the way she handles the small yet precious object, he can tell it holds much value. “Is that your good luck charm?” Jo wonders. “Yeah,” the rider acknowledges, taking back the reins from her friend and leading Meadow out of the stable. “My grandfather gave it to me on my very first show when I was seven.”

Y/N has never ridden a test without the jewel, and she can’t picture doing so in the future. The top bead is made from her birthstone, the one dangling underneath represents a guardian angel. While taking her horse outside, she rubs Meadow’s neck, tracing the charm for a second as the setting sun catches the gem. Before she had to say goodbye to the most influential person in her life, she never really pictured anyone when she saw the little figure with wings dangling from Meadow’s browband, but now she likes to think it is him, watching over her.

A couple of minutes later, Y/N has taken a seat on Meadow’s back, who excitedly walks towards the warm up area with Dean and Jo in tow. Flanked by her trainer on her right side and her groom on the left, a hint of relief hits the cowgirl unexpectedly; she has never been surrounded by a team this solid.

The horse and rider enter the side arena, where a dozen others are warming up in what seems to be a whirlwind of sensories. Music reaches Y/N’s hearing, coming from the competition ring and mixing with loud cheers of the spectators. Trainers shout at their pupils from the sideline, the steward calling for the next on the list. In her first loop in a simple walk, someone cuts her off and Meadow pins her ears back, clearly not at ease in the chaos.

“Can you hear me?” Dean asks through the headset, leaning over the fence of the training field. The familiar warm yet gruff sound in her ear silences the distractions that have her dizzy in an instance. She looks over her shoulder at the head wrangler, nodding in response. “Okay, good. Warm her up like you would do so at home. Try to seek a space where it’s not too crowded, you don’t have to use the entire area,” Dean advises, calmly. “Just focus on my voice, alright? Take a deep breath and focus on me.”

Y/N closes her eyes for a short second and collects herself, doing precisely what he tells her to do. Throughout the warm up he never underlines what she’s doing wrong, but praises her for every right move, building her confidence. For a short period of time it has her wondering if he’s sugarcoating and isn’t giving it to her straight, but minute by minute, she finds it easier to let go of that thought. His encouraging words manage to cast away the fear of screwing up, and before she knows it, she has forgotten about the other riders in the arena, nor does she notice her distracting surroundings. All she hears is his soothing vocals, all she feels is the large animal underneath her, who seems to respond well to their trainer too. Meadow might not be able to hear Dean, but apparently senses the tension oozing from her rider, and becomes more relaxed with every stride.

It’s five minutes until her starting time, when Y/N halts by the fence, next to Jo and Dean. Her friend and groom for the day takes her cue and approaches her with the bucket, wiping down Meadow’s sweaty skin with the sponge, cleaning the mare up before it’s her time to shine. Y/N takes out her ear buds, since she’s not allowed to compete with them, and hands the headset to Jo, trading it for a water bottle. “She feels good, doesn’t she?” Dean checks, smiling up at her while he takes the plastic flask from his student. The woman in the saddle nods. “She does.”

“Y/N Y/L/N! Two minutes!” The rider feels the nerves find their traction again when she glances at the steward who called out her name. She nods in acknowledgement at the man holding a clipboard, and when Jo is done toweling Meadow down, she steers the Quarter towards the entrance of the main arena. The applause that the previous competitor receives grows louder as they approach, meeting the rider on their way over. He seems very pleased with his horse, and the first thing that comes to her mind is that he must have had a good score, a score she needs to beat. The serene mindset the wrangler got her in, is threatened to be disturbed by the stage fright that grips her by the throat. Suddenly, it hits her; this is it.

“Hey…” Dean lays his hand on her knee when he detects that he’s losing her again. “Yankee?” The cowgirl snaps her gaze from the intimidating competition ground to her trainer, who meets her with the most relaxed expression he can muster, despite his worry about her current mental state. He can tell she’s downright scared, not to fall off her horse or anything, but to make a mistake, drop the ball and to have to leave the boxing ring defeated. Right now, the illuminated soil that is about to be her stage isn’t a dance floor to Y/N. No, her eyes tell him a different story, the one of a gladiator in a colosseum, being thrown into the pit for the lions, destined to be defeated, destined to fail.

“When you go in there, I need you to forget about everything,” he starts off, earning a confused look. “What do you mean?” she wonders. “Forget the judges, forget the audience, hell, forget what I’ve told you,” Dean continues, his thumb rubbing her leg soothingly. “The only one you need to listen to, is Meadow. Feel what she tells you and trust your gut when you answer. Let go of all the rest, alright?”

Y/N nods, wetting her dry lips, shooting another glance at the arena before she looks down on the man who has been able to ground her like only one other person has. Dean seems to know who is on her mind, because he reaches for the pendant attached to her horse’s bridle. “He’s with you, and I will be waiting right here, no matter what. You got this, Yankee.”

The encouraging words close off her throat much like the anxiety did earlier, but this time the sentiment is welcoming. Dean’s pep talk helped her see what is truly important, and that this moment is just a short clip of a larger motion picture. She has Meadow, she has Dean, and she has the memory of her grandfather, along with all the wise life lessons that he taught her. Whatever happens in the coming five minutes, that will not change. She trusts the beacon of support that is the man by her side. But in this very moment, most importantly, she trusts Meadow.

Y/N breathes in through her nose and exhales slowly, rubbing her horse’s shoulder, more confident than she has felt all week. The gatekeeper opens the fence for the horse and rider, nothing standing between them and the brightly lit competition ring.

“The next contestant of the evening is Y/N Y/L/N, all the way from Freeport, Maine. This young lady rides Meadowsweet, a nine year old mare sired by Gunner, and these two have made a name for themselves already. Folks, you are going to be watching the current State Champion and this pair has qualified for the prestigious All American Quarter Horse Congress in three weeks. This will be the premiere of their brand new freestyle, so get ready for a rock ‘n roll ride, y’all.”

Y/N peers into the grand arena, tilting her hat forward just enough to keep the spotlights from blinding her. She can feel Dean’s fingers slip from her knee, setting her free now that she has taken control. Focused and determined, the cowgirl makes eye contact with the sound technician, raising her hand. Showtime.

The first tones of Led Zeppelin’s Stairway To Heaven begins to play, and Y/N enters the arena slowly. The timid music silences the crowd, suspense hanging thick in the air. Meadow moves down the centerline and halts, her head low and submissive, waiting for her cue. The intro finishes, the acoustic notes dying down and leaving a second long silence. Knowing the music by heart, the woman in the saddle squeezes her fist holding the reins slightly, preparing Meadow for what is about to come. Then, right as Immigrant Song rings in her ears, she sends her Quarterhorse into a spin.

With high speed and great technique, the mare revolves on the spot like a helicopter rotor, and after going full circle four times stops dead in her tracks, before doing the exact same movement, only this time turning right. The crowd goes absolutely ballistic, and it’s then that Y/N feels a wide smile spreading on her face; she’s gonna nail this run.

One small aid is enough to push Meadow forward, the horse shooting down the centerline like an arrow leaving its bow. With only a few yards between the cowgirl and the judges, she sits back in the saddle, signalling Meadow to dig her hind legs into the ground and progress into an impressive sliding stop. It’s bold, because if the maneuver isn’t spot on, the panel will easily detect the error. The execution is perfect, however, and gathering from the entertained and impressed expressions on the judges’ faces, Y/N’s game plan is working.

With attitude, Meadow rolls back and races around the arena on a large circle, her long strides evenly powerful and rhythmic, this time to the soundtrack of Whole Lotta Love. With her left hand forward between the bay horse’s ears, the cowgirl peers down the path that’s to come, and after having gone full circle, she switches to a left canter through a flying change and mirrors the previous pattern.

The buzz ignited by both the thrilling ride and the response of the audience only fuels her confidence. When she exits the last full speed circle, she transitions into a lope, a collected gate Meadow masters well. The horse and rider combination crosses the arena through a neat half pass. It’s a sideways movement right in front of the judges, the talented mare showing off her reach and finesse.

Not once does Y/N have to correct her dancing partner, every small cue effective. Meadow follows the instructions without question, unable to give a damn about the vibrant ambiance. It’s almost as if the animal can read her owner’s mind, a telepathic connection which can only be established when human and horse have that click and share an unique bond. This is what horse riding is all about, this is the ultimate goal. Two hearts beating as one.

The music builds up to its zenith and shifts to the finishing electric guitar solo in Stairway To Heaven, by the same famous rock band that has been the backing track to this epic performance. On the diagonal, Meadow picks up speed again, her strong muscles rippling under her copper colored coat. The thousand pound being reaches a speed of forty-five miles an hour, accelerating until the opposite corner, where she performs another perfect stop followed by a roll back. There is not a speck of hesitation or doubt, nor any sign of fatigue, despite a sequential series of maneuvers.

After a third stop, she has executed the mandatory patterns, and all that’s left is to go out with a bang. Y/N sends Meadow into one final spin, the tremendous momentum having her dizzy. The sheer power radiating from under her only heightens the high the cowgirl is experiencing, the adrenaline coursing through her veins with the same speed as her horse is turning. After the rapid pirouettes, Meadow breaks off the maneuver on cue in the dead center of the arena, facing the judges. The cheering and whistling crowd almost overrules the dying sound of the guitar strings that are the last notes of the freestyle. Unable to comprehend what just happened, Y/N drops the reins, spreads her arms and folds them around her horse’s neck. Overcome with emotion she hugs her four-legged friend, without words thanking her for the ride of her life.

Only then the cowgirl realizes the roar coming from the spectators, many of them having risen to their feet. As the commentator praises her performance, she circles Meadow back toward the exit of the ring, waving at the enthusiastic kids on the first row. In that four minute run, Y/N and Meadow have stolen the hearts of everyone who is here to witness the definition of horsemanship. She can’t stop herself from smiling so widely that her cheeks hurt while her horse walks along the bleachers, the mare looking at the applauding audience, seeming to understand that it’s for her.

As they approach the gate, the rider hears one girl squeal above all others. Y/N hasn’t even looked in the direction of where the sound came from, but she already knows it’s Jo. Dancing on her feet in absolute delight, she meets her by the fence and high fives her best friend. “God damn, Sis! You rocked out there!” she exclaims, patting Meadow on her neck as well.

Y/N laughs full heartedly at her giddy friend, the ecstasy of her perfect run still in full effect. But when her gaze meets Dean’s, that happiness becomes overwhelming. The handsome cowboy is waiting for her, just like he promised. Gleaming eyes match his sly smirk, but there’s more to the expression, sentiment swimming in his emerald greens. The sight of him breaks something inside of her, and she’s unable to keep the tears at bay.

It’s then that Meadow halts, and just outside of the main arena, Dean steps towards his girl and pulls her into a hug. With her left hand still holding the reins, Y/N embraces the man who she owes so much gratitude. After all, if it wasn’t for him, the freestyle wouldn’t have turned out remotely as good, not to mention that the stress would have done her in. Today he was more than just a trainer or her boyfriend. He was the anchor that kept her grounded, the rock that wouldn’t budge when the waves crashed against her, and the sign that she needed to get out of the maze of self-doubt. She can feel Dean nuzzle his nose into her hair. “I’m so damn proud of you,” he whispers, words only meant for her to hear. Moved by his words, she hugs him a little tighter before she lets him go and wipes away her happy tears. A smile that reaches his ears is still there when she pulls herself together again. “She - she was absolutely amazing,” Y/N stammers, combing her fingers through Meadow’s mane. “The feeling she gave me… I can’t explain it. It was like we were flying.” “That’s because you were, Amelia Earhart,” Jo quips, clearly over the moon for her friend. “Want me to cool Meadow down so you can wait here for your score?”

Y/N nods, feeling her horse’s flanks expand rather rapidly every time the large animal inhales; she really gave it her everything. Once the cowgirl has both feet planted on solid ground, she scratches the mare’s favorite spot behind her ear, facing the beautiful Quarter. Meadow presses her large head against her owner’s chest, more to get rid of an itch than to return the love, making her human giggle. Then the rider hands over the reins to Jo, who takes the bay horse away from the commotion.

Still stunned, Y/N takes another breath, glancing back into the arena. “Did they call the points yet?” Dean comes to stand next to her, gazing at the board in the corner, above the bleachers. “No, I didn’t hear anything.” With her hands placed on her waist, she breathes in, trying to ignore her stomach, which begins to do backflips again. This time, there is not much she can do to influence the outcome, however. Meadow did the best she could and she didn’t make a single mistake; Y/N couldn’t have wished for more. But the new freestyle hasn’t been graded yet, so how the judges will reward the music and the degree of difficulty is still a mystery. The rider tries to tell herself that no matter what number will appear on the screen, she’s satisfied with today’s performance. But as seconds tick by, the suspense builds and eats at her composure.

She can feel Dean’s hand on the small of her back, fingertips tracing soft, calming circles. The motion helps her to pull her gaze away from the digital board, and she glances at the man by her side. Focusing on him has worked so far, so as the tension rises, she tries that tactic again. The world around her stops, her own breathing the only sound she hears, Dean’s touch the only sensation she feels. For a moment, time slows down. But when her trainer’s eyes widen and his jaw falls slack in disbelief, she’s almost too afraid to look at the definite white numbers that can make or break her evening.

It’s only when the crowd erupts that she dares to face the verdict, and what she witnesses, triggers her to clasp her hand over her mouth. Completely stunned, her eyes stay locked on the score, convinced that if she blinks, the numbers will change. She barely registers her boyfriend letting out a cheer, pumping his fists into the air and bouncing on his feet like a little kid. Her view is obstructed when strong arms wrap around her middle and lift her off the ground, but when her gaze locks on the display again, it still tells the same story of victory.

220.5 points.

Unknowingly, she holds her breath, her heart still beating against her chest so wildly, that her cowboy must be able to feel it too. It’s not just a personal best; it tops her old record by three whole points. She broke through the two-twenties, something she only ever dreamed of accomplishing, yet here she is. Shutting her eyes, her thoughts go out to her grandfather, realizing that she has done her guardian angel proud once more.

Dean must have sensed that she got lost in her own head, because he brings her back down from the heavens to their world with a gentle touch upon her cheek. He wipes a stray tear away with the pad of his thumb and takes off her hat, looking at her with so much adoration. His hand slips to the nape of her neck, his forehead bowing to gently rest against hers. Radiant light touches everything in reach, leaving what’s behind them in darkness, together with all the worries and fears. The audience doesn’t seem to be applauding the high score anymore, the wolf whistles and bellows of encouragement instead directed at the couple in the spotlight. Dean didn’t need any more motivation, his lips encasing hers in a soft kiss.

Closing her eyes, she cherishes the moment and smiles against his mouth when Dean uses her cowboy hat to shield them away from all the extra attention. It is in this instance the equestrian realizes something; out of all the rides that she experienced, either in the saddle or in life, this is the one that will go down in memory.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-tree here

#Ride With Me #Cowboy!Dean #Dean x Reader #Supernatural AU #Dean Winchester #Supernatural #Supernatural fanfiction #Dean Winchester fanfiction

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gracelessfighters · 4 years

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ditched

Sarah Cameron x female reader

Masterlist

Request/summary: ‘hi! I saw that you were willing to do sarah cameron on your masterlists and I was wondering if you could write one where Sarah and the reader are together? and the pouges find out when they see the two of them on sarah Cameron's boat together? and they're a lil upset bc the reader ditched them and bc they didn't know the reader liked girls?’

Warnings: fluffy with a small bit of angst but it be cute, language, (bad writing in general)

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: this is my first time writing something like this so I hope it’s alright and I enjoyed writing it so thank you for the request anon 🥺💗

“I wish we could spend everyday like this.” You say, turning to look at Sarah who was laying next to you on the deck of her family’s boat, sunning herself whilst she listened to you ramble about your life.

She opened her eyes and smiled at you, “I would love it if we did.”

You had been dating for about a month, but had been talking long before that so neither of you were certain when you caught feelings, you just knew they were strong feelings. Just being in her presence distracted you from all your internal conflicts - the main one being you were yet to come out to your friends. You knew your friends loved you and were almost positive they would support you, but the fact that you were dating Sarah Cameron, Kie’s worst enemy might not go down well at all so you had been lying to them for this whole month whenever you were with Sarah.

You hated lying to people, especially your closest friends, but for now it was necessary until you were ready to tell them. This was becoming harder and harder to do though, as you were seeing Sarah more and more often which meant you were coming up with more excuses to not hang out with your friends - they were really believable at first, stuff like ‘I’m being made to do chores’ or ‘I’m ill’ but you were now pretty sure they were becoming suspicious, Kie especially, and you didn’t know if you should tell them or not.

Today was another day where you’d had to lie, John B had messaged you saying they were all going out on the HMS Pogue, but you already had plans to join Sarah on her boat so you’d lied. Again. This time you were ‘going grocery shopping’ and you knew you were talking out of your ass but they were yet to confront you so the problem was being ignored.

A slow song came up on your playlist, Sarah stood up, holding her hand out to you, “Would this fine lady like to dance?”

You laughed, taking her hand, “She would love to.”

You stayed like that for the whole song, swaying in each others arms, foreheads pressed together, feeling at peace and shockingly, you realised, feeling love. Your stomach was doing flips at this realisation, not wanting to say it yet as you weren’t sure she felt the same, but you were smiling widely.

She looked at you, “What?”

“Nothing, I’m just really happy with you.”

She blushed slightly, “Same here.”

She looked at your lips and leant forward, you let your eyes fall shut as your lips met hers. Whenever you kissed her, the butterflies in your stomach were extreme, and you were pretty sure kissing her would never get old - you wanted to do it forever.

Unfortunately life had other plans for you, yours and Sarah’s moment interrupted by someone shouting your name.

“Y/N! Is that you?” Kiara shouted from their boat.

You jumped out of Sarah’s arms, “Shit what do we do?”

“Hey calm down, maybe it’s time they knew about us, and if they’re dicks about I’m here for you babe, always.” She squeezed your hand as you went to look over the side of the boat to speak to them.

“Hey guys, how’s your day been?” Sarah attempted to suppress a chuckle behind you at your awkward greeting.

You turned to scowl at her but couldn’t help but smile when she gave you a playful thumbs up.

“Uh, do you want to come up here quickly to talk?” You asked them

“Are we allowed? It is a kook boat after all, we don’t want to get it dirty.” JJ sneered at Sarah who had now made herself visible behind you.

“Yes you can,” you said, turning to Sarah, “they can right?”

She smiled at you softly, “Of course, and you’ve got this don’t worry.”

It took a few minutes for them all to climb up the ladder at the back of the boat, but they were all there in front of you now, John B and Pope smiling at you in greeting, JJ acting indifferent and Kiara scowling at Sarah. God you hoped this goes well.

John B interrupted the silence, “I thought you were busy grocery shopping or something today?”

Before you could begin to explain yourself, JJ jumped in, “That was clearly a lie man,” he turned to you, “Are we not good enough anymore or something?”

“No that’s not-“

“I can’t believe you’d ditch us for her.” Kie said, disbelief on her face.

“Just let her speak guys.” Pope cut in, stopping them from saying stuff they might regret and waving at you to speak.

“Thanks,” you smiled at him before taking a deep breath, “Um Sarah and me are dating, and I wasn’t bailing on you, I just want to spend time with her as well and I feel so shitty about lying to you all but I didn’t know how you’d all react and I’m sorry. Like really sorry”

You looked down at the floor, avoiding their stares as silence engulfed the boat.

“You like girls?” JJ asked, a softness on his face after you’d revealed your secret.

“Yeah,” you smiled, looking back at Sarah, “I like them a lot.”

“Alright, that’s pretty cool and I’m glad you’ve told us because now you can be my wingwoman,” JJ joked, causing both John B and Pope to laugh as well as they nodded their agreement.

You grinned at them, but as you turned to face Kie, she was still scowling, “Kie?”

“Y/N, I fully support who you are but does it have to be with her? I mean none of us even like her.”

“Yes but I love her!” You raised your voice slightly, freezing when you realised what you’d said.

“You love me?” You heard from behind you, turning you saw Sarah smiling at you, a small tear falling down her face.

“Yeah I do.”

You went to turn back towards the others when she cupped your face and kissed you passionately, quickly breaking away to whisper to you, “I love you too.”

John B cleared his throat behind you, breaking up your moment so you turned back around to the group.

“Kie, I know you two have a bad history but if I’m as good as friend to you that you are to me, could you maybe put it behind you and be happy for me? Please.”

She nodded, pulling you into a hug, “I’m sorry, I am happy for you, I’ll try not to be bitchy when she’s around,” she pulled away from you, “because now we know what’s been happening here, you don’t have an excuse as to why you can’t spend time with us and her together, yes?”

There was a chorus of agreement from everyone on the boat, and you smiled, the weight on your chest no longer there, your love for Sarah out in the open and all your friends supporting you. Who knew this day would be even better than you imagined?

#sarah cameron x reader #sarah cameron imagine #madelyn cline #outerbanks fic #Outer Banks #obx fic #jj maybank x reader #obx #john b routledge #kiara carrera #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outrebanx #outrebanx request

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mevekagvain · 3 years

Text

Chapter 121 - I hope none of the birds affected by the sleeping gas died from falling from a height, especially if they fell on concrete. I don't think the gas itself would affect the birds but it also very well might since they can't handle as much due to being much smaller animals or from not being able to handle the chemicals used.

Chapter 122 - Shark's expressions are so hideous 🤢

- At least Raizel knows how to be nice by sharing food lmao. Frankenstein beaming like a proud father of a 2-year-old who's doing that is definitely not praxis though.

Chapter 124 - Shark being astounded that nobles care about innocents is amusing. I suppose that aside from the Elders, the Union members think nobles consider other species to be inferior or like cockroaches or toys.

- Although I do find Frankenstein plotting to teach Seira cooking so she can cook for Raizel when he can't extremely funny, I do also find it somewhat disturbing. He's essentially making a teen girl do child labour. Yes she and Regis are imposing on him and I do think they should be doing some manner of chores, but making her cook lavish meals? I also know she's doing it willingly but it still makes me cringe since something being one's choice doesn't negate it being bad. And yes technically she's 'of age' since she's 217, whatever that means since she's still obviously a teen compared to Raizel who actually is an adult going to school with children (which is a whole other can of worms), but aside from her position as clan leader she's very obviously not viewed as an adult by most.

Chapter 125 - On one hand I'd love to get a front row seat to the internal drama within the DA-5 lile M-21 but otoh I don't want to die a painful death or get beaten up.

- So like obviously Seira knows that Raizel and Frankenstein aren't ordinary humans unlike Regis but it is hilarious to think she just told the truth to two men she thinks are frail innocent humans.

Chapter 127 - You'd really think that the Union would be investing more into memory altering drugs but nah. The only ones they have will also fuck your brain up. Really not a good idea when most of your agents/experiments obviously have been administered aforementioned drugs. If it was only used sparingly on civilians I'd get it but it's quite widespread so...

Chapter 128 - As much as Frankenstein complains about the mess the kids make, he enjoys having them over as much as Raizel does. Soft hearted bastard.

Chapter 130 - The girls bandaging M-21 up even as Regis fights has them being smarter than like 90% of other characters in media. They're the real reason he didn't hit the dust immediately smh.

Chapter 132 - I still think the coming of age ceremony has a 50% chance of actually being them ingesting drugs that are the equivalent of stat boosting items in games but also ya know, real world drugs that fuck you up. The other 50% is just them getting much stronger after they turn 200 because their bodies are just like that and it truly is purely ceremonial and a fun tradition like children's day or girl's day or birthdays rather than something that actually affects them.

- Lol Kranz, Regis won't be leaving a corpse if he dies. Purebloods are just special like that. Can you imagine if they did see a pureblood dying? They'd regret killing them so bad.

Chapter 133 - Raizel commanding Frankenstein to stop his experiments is definitely something, like bro maybe he was figuring out electrolysis, not like you know what he was doing. Plus it's not like Frankenstein listened completely. Man has a lab under his house and it wasn't built after Raizel woke. I guess he only stopped modification experiements on others and only did checkups on himself but didn't stop experimenting for other stuff like idk, better fertiliser.

- Kinda amazing Takeo didn't get stabbed in the heart.

Chapter 137 - I know it's just because Gejutel likely explained the lord's powers to him but the idea that Regis knows what a blood field is because Raskreia does demonstrations to entertain little kids is making me giggle.

Chapter 140 - So the Union only came upon Frankenstein's research 540 years ago... that's only 40 years before Raskreia became lord. Interesting.

- Ah yes... the classic joke of Tao not teaching Takeo korean properly. It's also very amusing envisioning Tao teaching the DA-5 members korean.

- ARIS ARIS ARIS. God she looks adorbs. Also I love her referring to DA-5 as 'my children' and 'my babies'. Aris >>> all other scientists. Amd hi Yuri :)

Chapter 141 - Yuri listening to Aris insulting Crombel repeatedly,,, he probably enjoys every aspect of it from knowing she's not aware he's his underling to being able to hear someone insult Crombel.

- Once again union members don't know jack shit. They think werewolves are extinct while Maduke and Lunark are literally Elders 😭🤡😭

- Werewolves having a small population never made sense to me even with the whole thing about them not having mind control and thus keeping away from humans secretly since even civilians are stronger than humans on average but like why tf would wolves have such a low reproduction rate? And that's why I hc that 90% of them are just homosexual.

Chapter 142 - D doesn't consume your lifeforce bro. That's just the drugs causing heavy strain on the body, etc etc. The rest of your explanation was fine but talking about lifeforce or vitality makes no sense.

- We all know Yuri's smart but the fact that he tries to get Frankenstein as a subject by scouting him first is very clever. It's believable too since Frankenstein is supposed to be quite handsome.

Chapter 144 - Well we don't know of Crombel microchips his Assassination Squad but Aris canonically microchips her experiments 🤣

Chapter 147 - Okay but this panel... she's hot. I'd let her dissect me <3

- If this was some other media I'd talk about the symbolism of the attack looking like a rapier and go on for a paragraph but this is Noblesse so it's obviously just a coincidence lmao.

- "A living robot" so like... a cyborg.

Chapter 148 - Yuri getting pissed at being attacked and retaliating but pretending it was him being loyal to Aris... Love it. Also he must be really confused as to who tf Frankenstein is since as one of Crombel's most important lackeys he'd definitely know about such a powerful experiment under him if they existed and thus unlike Aris knows that he's not been sent by Crombel.

Chapter 149 - Yup def confused, especially when he realises Frankenstein's power is like Crombel's.

Chapter 150 - Girlboss,,, also it's been years and I'm still wondering... why is her outfit like that? Neon genesis evangelion girlboss does have a ring to it though.

- Ah yes, Taivra time.

Chapter 151 - Okay yeah I feel so bad for Takeo but also Aris is so good at manipulating him and and and iwi. The fact that she can cry on command though... impressive.

- "From the beginning you were an only child. That's why I got you to experiment on." Okay cool time to ignore that again for my own amusement of having all of noblesse's named modified human women be related to Takeo.

- Okay I'm obsessed with strawberry milk myself but strawberries do not taste anywhere near that good. Not even the sweet ones.

Chapter 153 - Yeah no I don't agree that Takeo losing his will to live is an insult to your comrades M-21. You could have said all that in a gentler way. Just because Takeo was luckier than you experiment wise doesn't mean you get to be so rude.

Chapter 154 - M-21 misleading Tao and Takeo to thinking he's being experimented on and then turning around to laugh at them when they find out it's just ramyeon... mood.

- I really do wonder what 12th Elder's military medals are for.

Sidenotes - Hammer being smart <3 I honestly didn't remember that part of him and I'm glad he's not given purely negative traits. He's the only reason Shark lived past 2 chapters tbh.

- Truly, D is one of the worst letters of the alphabet to have named the drugs DA-5 uses. The other bad choice would be P. On the opposite end of the spectrum, T would have been a great choice for the irony. Not that it matters since the inspiration for the drug from name to physical transformation is obviously 🍆

- Nobles being so nonchalant about murder is kinda fucked up like yeah they suck but you can't just kill them??? Lukedonia my beloved your justice system sucks. I do hc they can't just do this in Lukedonia though or to other nobles even if outside of Lukedonia, it's just that the jurisdiction of nobles doesn't apply outside of Lukedonia and they do on some level think of themselves as a superior species so they're fine with just... killing people.

- Aris obsessing over handsome men as experiments and treating them like toys but ignoring women altogether? Not experimenting on women? Gaslight gatekeep girlboss,,, a feministe of our own,,, perhaps even a... lesbienne. But yeah I just love how she acts and I love her and how she interacts with Yuri. And yeah he's cool too.

- Tbh aside from how short the skirts are and the white blazers, the Ye Ran uniform really reminds me of my own school's uniform. The colours are exactly the same. We just didn't have blazers since it was a forever summer tropical country, only jumpers for if it got too cold in the air conditioned rooms. And for some people who grow up in tropical countries... 25°C can be too cold.

#noblesse #raining while reading #volume 2 done

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captaindaddykru · 3 years

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☆for emily☆

today it’s @keiraknighted‘s birthday. i wanted to finish this before today, but everything is flaming garbage, so a preview will have to do. no, i will no be giving out more details. happy birthday to my musical soulmate, the kinkiest queen of them all, em. my ol’ cobber. my favorite drongo. quite the spunk you are. you’re a classic. and you live in the worst possible timezone imaginable. here’s some best friends, pining, sexy, below <10k hopefully. also, sorry for the ugly temporary moodboard???? i was getting desperate at this point and am no grapic designer. i just needed something to distract from what you’re about to read. cheers!

So, by the time their holiday break rolls around, Clarke isn’t only sexually frustrated, she’s also kind of desperate. Which only intensifies when a few days before they’re all flying back to their hometown, Wells casually lets it drop he’s now in a relationship with a girl from his old chess club and things are ‘heating up fast’, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. She’s just more aware than ever she’s running out of time.

Clarke doesn’t even know why it’s such a big deal to her. Maybe it’s her competitive streak coming into play, or the fact she really just wants to get the whole awkward virginity thing over with, maybe it’s the dark inexplicable pang in the middle of her chest whenever she sees the constant rotation of girls on Bellamy’s Instagram and Snapchat. She figures it’s a healthy amount of jealousy, courtesy of their very codependent ways, sharing everything with each other since childhood. They’re all apart for the first time in a decade, going their own ways, perhaps even growing apart.

She doesn’t think about why Wells’ honest to God girlfriend doesn’t bother her as much when in reality that should make her feel even worse. A girlfriend could screw with their dynamic, a bunch of one night stands rationally speaking won’t. It could be that she knows Wells too well to know there’s still a very big chance he won’t go through with it, that he’ll let the girl down easy before Christmas even rolls around.

But. Then she finds herself thinking of his jacket covering her shivering body, drenched from the rain, her left arm throbbing with pain, his hand wrapped around hers as he told her it was all going to be okay. She thinks of that time he left Gina’s birthday party early to come pick her up at a friend’s house after almost having a panic attack, the nights he spent sleeping in her bed after her father died, how he never once complained about getting her coffee from the drive through that was more than his hard limit of three dollars, and that one throw-away moment at the end of summer. That goodbye hug that lasted just a little too long, his arms tight around her waist, the intense look mirrored in both of their eyes as they pulled apart, the way she was afraid to say anything in case her voice gave out, before she got into her mom’s car and watched him and Wells disappear in the rearview mirror.

It’s hard to explain, even to herself. It’s why she never thinks about it for too long.

Which all brings her to tonight. A new year’s party at the house of someone who went to the same high school as them, that has all the charms of a bad hang-over in the making — terrible beer, music that’s mostly EDM and completely shit-faced people plastered across every surface.

She hasn’t seen Wells since his father’s Christmas party. Clarke finally met Luna there in person. She’s beautiful, easily talked to her about the non-profit she’s interning at for half an hour and had nothing but love in her eyes whenever she looked at Wells. He’s with her at her parents’ ski cabin right now, and from the way Bellamy was clapping his shoulder before he left early in the morning, Clarke figures he’s probably losing his v-card to her there which means that she’ll be the only one out of the three of them not to complete the pact. There’s no way she’s finding someone before midnight that she’d both feel comfortable with taking hers, and is even willing to do so in the first place.

To make matters worse, Bellamy has totally ditched her to play beer pong with Bree, which she isn’t even sure isn’t code for hooking up in the coat closet. He knows she hates parties, especially when she doesn’t know anyone else there, and that she’s horrific at first impressions. She’s forced to make small-talk with Murphy, the loser who still hangs around their high school parking lot and she used to share one Culinary Arts class with before he got suspended.

All of it combined has put her in a sour mood. And a drinking mood, but since all there is fucking shitty beer that might as well be toilet water she can’t even get drunk, so that just makes her even more unreasonably upset at nothing in particular. Maybe at the fact she’s so high strung and obsessed with controlling every little detail, that she didn’t just get it over with back on campus with some frat boy she never had to see again after, or that Wells and Bellamy managed to make it happen without even trying. It’s probably because she’s trying way too hard, people can probably tell.

It’s not fair that both of them beat her to it. Clarke wants to just be done with already, too. She wants to get it over with so she can get to the good, non first time stuff like them. She wants to be flirting with boys and girls at parties, or ask for someone’s number at a coffee shop without having to worry about having to explain it’s her first time doing any of it when they eventually invite her over to their room. She wants to be free and nonchalant and spontaneous, not constantly weighed down by the fact that she’s a virgin. It’s not like she’s asking for much.

Half an hour to midnight, she pushes her way outside to the porch for some fresh air. It’s there where Bellamy finally bothers to leave Bree and her attention-seeking ways behind and come find her.

“What’s up with you?” He asks, half a chuckle in his voice as he leans his forearms on the railing, mirroring her.

Clarke grits her teeth together, then slowly exhales through her nose. She keeps her eyes on the tree swing in the distance, swaying softly because of the wind. “Nothing.”

He elbows her playfully, although his tone is serious. Of course he sees right through her. “Come on. Don’t give me that.”

She just grumbles something indecipherable, pushing back her hair from her face with one hand. She still doesn’t look at him, scared she might give anything more away. From inside, there’s the muffled beat of a hiphop song playing joined by the distanced tumult of college kids getting drunk and having fun. Except for the couple making out on the other end of the porch and one stoner sprawled over the grass smoking and staring at the sky, they’re alone.

“I’m sorry about leaving you for Bree—” Bellamy starts, straightening back to his full height, and before she knows it, a flare of anger rises within her, burning white hot. She doesn’t recognize the feeling, but gets too lost in it to analyze it for very long.

Her head snaps to the side to glare at him, fingers tightening around the railing until her knuckles turn a pale white. “It’s not about Bree and her pathetic fuck-me eyes.”

“Okay,” he replies, sounding a bit too amused for her liking. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. It makes his biceps bulge in a way that’s completely unfair when she’s been perpetually turned on since Halloween, and it sends a surge of want pulsing from her core. “Then what’s it about, princess?”

Has his voice always been so deep? She hesitates, not sure she even wants to share this with him. He might be her best friend, but it’s embarrassing on a level she can’t even try and start to describe. “I’m annoyed, okay?” She bites, heated, which immediately makes her feel guilty. It’s not his fault nobody wants her. “I expected that I’d at least beat Wells to it. And since it’s all I can think about all the time now, I’m constantly horny.” A blush forms on her cheeks, down her neck and all over her collarbone, but she refuses to let that or the way his eyes widen slightly stop her. It’s only awkward if she lets it be. “I just feel so stupid. I mean, I had five months to get it over with like both of you, and here we are. What the hell is wrong with me?”

A tense silence wraps around them for a moment, Clarke’s heart pounding loudly in her chest as panic claws up her throat. She’s such a fucking idiot. She shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. She’s sure neither of them would’ve actually held it against her if she didn’t lose her virginity before new year’s, they’re better than that. She knows they are. Clarke is just so — frustrated.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and she finds herself entranced with the movement. “I didn’t know you were so upset about it,” he starts, tentatively. Her blue eyes snap up to meet his, a smirk breaking across his face. He’s teasing her, the asshole, when he says, “I mean, if you’re that desperate, I’ll do it.”

Her eyes narrow, finally pushing off the railing. A gust of wind greets her body, bristling her hair and making tiny goosebumps appear over her arms. She’s seconds away from angry tears, she can tell. “Don’t make it sound like it’s such a fucking chore.”

Bellamy just kind of stares at her dumbly, his whole body grown tense, making her even more furious. Did he lose his tongue all of a sudden? He’s never had a problem sharing his opinions on her, no matter how negative, before. “What?” She snaps, roughly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before tucking her hands back underneath her opposite armpits.

“It wouldn’t be a chore, Clarke,” he corrects her, his eyes still slightly widened as if alarmed by the sound of himself speaking. He swallows visibly, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down in the low glow of the Christmas lights draped across the ceiling of the porch. Bellamy lifts one of his shoulders, casual, even if the movement is stiffer than it usually would be. “I just — I didn’t realize I was an option.”

Her heart trips over itself as silence stretches between them for a moment. She wants to ask him a million questions, but the best thing she can come up with is, “So you were serious?” Clarke raises her eyebrows, trying to figure out if he was just being nice, taking pity on her or if it was something much more dangerous than that. “You’ll do it?”

His jaw clenches briefly, his nostrils flaring. Another second, and he asks, rough, “Do you want me to do it?”

She considers it. This is Bellamy, her best friend. He can always make her laugh, and there’s no one else she feels as much at ease with, and he’s definitely attractive, even she has noticed as much. She likes his stubborn curls, his smile when someone catches him off guard, the sharp line of his jaw. And at the very least he would know what he’s doing. She trusts him. “Yes.”

Now that she’s aware it’s a possibility, she refuses to want anything else. It’d be kind of perfect, actually.

He clears his throat, blinking hard as he tears his eyes off her for a second, scrubbing his face with one of his hands. It’s very big, and Clarke finds herself wondering for the first time if it means the rest of him is big as well. Bellamy sniffs when his dark eyes land back on her. “Have you been drinking?”

“Just half a beer,” she answers, maybe a bit too eager, her hands dropping at her sides after smoothing down the bottom of her glittery top. She doesn’t want to give him enough time to talk himself out of it. “And I think someone diluted it with water so it barely counts.”

He nods, once, then nudges his head to the side. “Want to get out of here?”

Taking one more look around the porch, Clarke worries her bottom lip pensively, shooting him an apologetic look. “My parents are having friends over, so my house is definitely not an option.”

Besides, she doesn’t want to risk them finding out and making it weird. Especially not if the consequence is going to be an open door policy whenever he or Wells are over. Nothing has to change after tonight.

“Thelonious is out,” he offers, then flinches when he seems to remember something else. “But Octavia might show up with her friends.”

Clarke nods, giving him another long searching look before she makes up her mind. It’ll be fine. This is Bellamy. She’s a pro at compartmentalizing and he’s sleeping with a different girl like every other night. It can just be sex. “Upstairs then?”

#keirakneighted #arysafics #emily's birthday #bellarke fic #preview #bellamy x clarke #bellarke #drabble #idk wtf im even tagging #to be continued hopefully this week

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peace-coast-island · 3 years

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Diary of a Junebug

Fireworks, paper lanterns, and glittering stardust

The Sea of Lights is so beautiful! Lanterns and fireworks decorate the sky like constellations, little specks of stardust scattered about. I enjoy taking the time to craft a lantern, make a wish, and watching the lantern float away until it's nothing but a little speck in the sky.

Prepping for the Sea of Lights was a lot of work. Once again, the camp has held the honor of hosting a big event so naturally, we had to go all out. Luckily, we have some friends helping out with the festivities - two who happen to be a part of the committee.

Rika and Elowyn have been part of the Sea of Lights crew since last year so they pretty much know how to make the festivities a hit. Alma and Milana aren't directly part of the crew but they've been to the festival a few times so they were also able to chime in.

Elowyn hopes to get the couple to volunteer for next year but since they have to do a lot of work for the annual cherry blossom festival at their hometown, I don't think they're too interested in helping run another big event. Let's be honest, Alma and Milana are mostly here for the food - I mean, who isn't? That, and also the fact that they're finally visiting the camp after all this time!

Things have been pretty much the same at Corentine, well for the most part. Alma said there's some new guy who's been scouting the outskirts of the village due to rumored abnormal supernatural activity. It's not unusual for them to have strangers walking around these areas though it's frustrating for everyone - especially the stranger - when the mission's unclear. Despite suspicions nothing's been confirmed so the poor guy's been scouting the woods for weeks with absolutely no progress or direction. And since he's gonna stick around for a while, the town council insisted on providing him a place to stay so he's staying in Alma's old room.

Rika hasn't had too much of a chance to get to know the guy but from what she and the others learned, he acts all tough but gets startled easily. Knowing these girls, they've been messing around with him quite a bit. Alma says he's cool, probably a bit shy and prideful, but once his guard's down he has a good sense of humor. Milana wants to use him to test out her latest contraptions as she's in need of a newbie to critique her inventions. RIP (or good luck?) to the new guy.

Alma and Milana are enjoying their new house, which is only about five minutes from Alma's family house. They both figured that now they've been married for over a year, it's probably time to leave the nest and finally give Alma's father some peace of mind. However that still doesn't stop Alma from using him to occasionally get away with chores. Milana says that if Alma keeps this up, they might as well hire him as a housekeeper and pay him by the hour. Then Alma promised that she'll try to do her share of the chores so they could instead use that money to either dine out in a fancy place or go on a fun vacation.

There's never a dull moment with these two. They can be a bit much, especially when you throw in Rika, Elowyn, Emerald, Jade, and Kei into the mix. It's been forever since I've seen the latter three - last I've heard, they joined Rika in Jamie's entourage for a bit before it disbanded. I think all three transferred to Seashore Path so I guess Emerald and Jade probably graduated or will be soon by now while Kei's probably got another year to go.

Rika's been working on some new projects, teasing us as usual. They're always up to something. As of last week Rika now goes by she/they, which feels right for them. The elders are a bit out of touch but they try to be supportive. Ojiichan started complimenting Rika by saying they look gnc af and now all the other elders are saying it, which is sweet! The big mystery though is who taught Ojiichan that and whether or not he fully knows what it means. Still, it's nice to hear how supportive everyone is.

They have also taken up pickling veggies, which sounds kinda surprising but isn't at the same time. Given how much she loves kimchi, it makes sense that she'd want to make her own. My mom sometimes makes her own kimchi and she says it can be a hit or miss. It also looks like a lot of work so kudos for Rika for being successful! It also takes some patience and even then you never know how they'll turn out until they're ready. They plan on doing beets next. After that it's daikon and carrots, and then garlic - all which sound good.

As for the kimchi, it's great! They like it super spicy though so I was only able to eat a little bit before I couldn't handle the heat anymore, but it's tasty. The veggies are perfectly crisp and it's not too liquidy and salty. Rika plans on refining the recipe as well as make a mild version for those who can't take the heat - she means a weakling like me - which is something to look forward to, Buuut Rika's definition of mildly spicy and mine's is probably very different so either way I'll be chugging a lot of water or tea between every bite.

Rika's also been helping Elowyn start her own Patreon, which is exciting! A friend's friend of theirs is also gonna launch a Patreon too so I'm gonna keep an eye out for that as her work seems interesting. The friend had just moved from Japan a few months ago and she's an artist who has an ongoing manga/webcomic about a high school girl who becomes bonded with a young ghost whose job is to keep order between spirits and mortals. According to Rika and Miki - who knows her as well - the story's inspired by true events that happened to the author.

The premise sounds interesting and an english translation by a friend of hers who also serves as an editor/beta reader is usually uploaded the day after so when I have time, I'll definitely read it. From first glance, the art style looks nice so I'm intrigued. It definitely has the vibes of a deceptively cute and lighthearted story that's complex and tragic underneath. The manga's ongoing and usually updates twice a month.

Elowyn's also gonna be in a short fantasy murder mystery film directed by her brother called The Scythe. A few weeks ago she appeared in a music video as a backup dancer for Avery Ronnie. In between gigs Elowyn practices magic with Rika by going on various missions. Though Elowyn says it's no different than being an unpaid intern, except with an increased risk of dying and things going terribly wrong.

Rika and Alma are alike as they're hard working but also kinda lazy. Without prompting they can accomplish something cool and badass but ask them to pick their things up from the floor or do some cleaning around the house and they'll make up some excuse. We roast them for it but at the same time we get it - and it's not like they can't take care of themselves but sometimes they do need a bit of prodding. Both also have this charm that let them get away with it half the time so it's kinda on us too.

We've been hard at work setting up the stalls and decor as well as making lanterns and planning out the fireworks show. To our surprise, Rika and Alma have been pulling their weight, though I think bribing them with food helped with that.

Rika got some glittering stardust from a friend and wanted to put that to good use by adding some spark to the lights. We tested out the fireworks with it and it produced some dazzling effects. Problem is that glittering stardust is super flammable so we have to be super careful. So that's why I left fireworks duty to Rika while the rest of us kept our distance.

Making lanterns was a lot of fun! A while back Pai and Connie sent me a lantern they made for a similar festival in Bonsai Harbor. Apparently the two really got into making lanterns so they started giving away a bunch of them to friends.

Yeah, I think we also kinda went overboard with our lanterns. But they're so much fun to make! Well, I could just give them away too - I know a bunch of people who would love to have a souvenir from a festival. I'm gonna keep a bunch to decorate the camp and cabin when we're in a festive decorating mood. As for the inevitable surplus - I'll figure that out later.

The fireworks and lanterns were easily the highlights of the night, second to the food. Thankfully there were no incidents with the glittering stardust - we did a bunch of test runs to make absolutely sure that there's no chance of the lanterns and fireworks colliding to create a possibly catastrophic explosion as glittering stardust is dangerous around anything that involves flames.

(I mean it turned out to be a great idea, but why the hell did we take such a risk by using flammable stuff around fireworks? Then again, it's Rika and when they overlook something, we tend to follow suit too because it's too easy to get caught up and carried away. It's not our fault that she makes it easy to get away with a lot of dangerous stunts - but it all worked out for the better so it's good.)

Being surrounded by fireworks and lanterns, I feel light on my feet. Wishes floating up in the sky, finding their way into the black night sky. I wonder how far will the lanterns fly before their lights go out.

I wonder how many wishes were released throughout the night.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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noneatnonedotcom · 4 years

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Magical Girl rwby au

yang idly wondered if enjoying this made her a bad person as her flame covered fist crushed the skull of a beowolf. she sidestepped the one behind it as it lunged forward swiping and snarling at the air where she was before. she brought her leg up with a devastating kick to its midsection as the Grimm went sailing through the air wincing at the mistake yang went to follow it only to be distracted by her sister Ruby: yang we’re all done here you ready to head back? yang looked over to her sister the silver-eyed girl was smiling as the read scythe she rested against her shoulder was dissipated into silver sparkles. the scene was almost cute if not for the Grimm viscera that was splattered all over her frilly dress and red hood Yang: yeah we’ll head home, you look like you could use a bath ruby pouted cutely at the remark and yang smirked Ruby: it’s the price I pay for awesome, and crescent rose is definitely that! I mean did you see my baby cutting through those Grimm? she was all “swing” and they were all “bleah” and then they went “fwoosh” and it was like those ninja movies blake likes but it’s a lot less cool when you have to clean off the blood yang smiled at the excitement in her baby sister's voice. it wasn’t always like this back, in the beginning, they had trouble using their powers it was more a chore than anything but then they’d met Weiss and blake and Pyrrha and the five of them working together really helped cut down on the amount of work they had to do any given night. tonight it was her and ruby. tomorrow would be Weiss and blake, then Pyrrha the strongest of them would take a swing at it solo. then a day off and back to her and ruby unless one of them wanted to switch off for someone else which they did on occasion. sometimes they all decided to go out together when there was nothing going on. which was most days. since Pyrrha was the only one with after school stuff like sports and Weiss had her job as a singer to work on it was typically just her and ruby. and blake but the cat could be so damn lazy and Ruby: swear jar! yang: but I didn’t say anything! Ruby: you were thinking it! yang reached down and started to give her sister a noogie yang: little brat! Ruby: arg, yang no! ruby took off in a flurry of rose petals as she used her magic to run away yang smirked and took off after her a streak of fire burning through the sky completely forgetting about the Grimm she’d sent flying in the opposite direction ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- jaune idly wondered if avoiding this would make him a bad person over the last few days, a beowolf had been seen in the area. most thought it was a superstition but jaune knew the truth. and he hated that fact he checked his gear again, his family sword hung at his hip, on his back was a small pack holding an emergency medical kit, extra water and a little bit of food (he’d learned his lesson after that time he’d gotten trapped in the cave) his hoodie was more a source of comfort than disguise. after all most people didn’t focus on him when there were Grimm around. still, the hood made him feel more disguised so he’d keep it. his back up knife hung on the opposite hip from his sword. frankly, he’d have liked a gun but guns didn’t hurt Grimm. only his family's ancestral blades. he wielded crocea mors, his father wielded Claíomh Solais and they were alone against the dark. he silently cursed the lack of a brother and thanked the gods that Adrian wasn’t required to fight. he drew his blade and stood. briefly shaking out the stiffness of his limbs as he followed the Grimm back into its den. he’d honestly have preferred a pack of beowolves. yes, they were dangerous in numbers but those numbers could be mitigated when they were alone they tended to grow... alpha beowolf: *lands behind jaune and roars, shaking the crumbling building around them* bigger jaune lunged to the side but just a second too late as the Grimm grabbed his leg with its clawed hand. throwing him into and through the ruined wall of the abandoned building. he rolled as he hit the ground dodging the claws of the Grimm before retaliating with a slash of his own to the beast which howled in rage great now it was mad. he struggled to breathe as he moved around the debris-covered floor trying to get away from the steel rending claws by the barest margin. trying to preserve as much room as he could for further movement. barely flinching as the claws cut open his face just under his eye as they grazed him. dipping under a swipe jaune saw his opportunity and slashed open its neck. as the black blood spilled freely from the new wound it backhanded him launching him into the wall once more as he struggled to stay awake against the coming blackout. jaune: *through gritted teeth* get up jaune the Grimm having noticed he was still alive lunged at him jaune: fucking move dumb ass! he rolls to the side stumbling as he stood tripping and twisting his ankle as he grunted in pain. luckily for him, he was distracted from the pain by the pain of a set of claws ripping through his chest just barely shallow enough to survive. he rolled back as the Grimm lunged again he managed to get the sword in-between its teeth as the Grimm tried desperately to bite his face off. they struggled for what felt like an hour before he felt the Grimm weaken. loss of blood taking it’s tole as the massive beast was finally rolled off of him. he placed his sword against its throat before cutting it open. as the Grimm dispersed into the air jaune leaned back against a wall and slid down exhausted doing a quick check he had four deep cuts on his chest that he was going to have to stitch shut, a cut on his face that was definitely gonna scare jaune snorted at that thought jaune: oh no, my precious modeling career a couple of broken ribs, a sprained ankle, and a concussion he was gonna be out of commission for a while. jaune: *forcing himself to stand* that went far better than expected he limped off, heading back home where his sisters and mother could patch him up. great thing about having such a large family there was always someone around to patch up your horrible painful wounds ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ruby wondered if this was some sort of punishment for being a bad person she’d been transferred to beacon at the behest of ozpin, an old friend of her moms and someone who knew about the maidens and their powers. her silver eyes being the main reason but her recent breakthrough with her mechanical engineering class had given him an excuse to invite her to the prestigious school. her friends had promised to show her around but there was only one problem with that Ruby: where the heck was I supposed to meet them again? she studied the map of the admittedly huge campus as if it would offer any more information unknown voice: excuse me? do you need some help? ruby: *turning around grateful for the help* yeah I was looking for... the guy she saw when she turned around was tall. his shaggy blonde hair framed a scared and tired face that didn’t look any less scary for the smile on it as he leaned down. ruby backed up against the map on the wall scary guy: for...? ruby: *squeaking* library the guy nodded scary guy: alright, so you’ll wanna head for the music room the stares past that will take you to the third floor the other stairs are down after something ripped them up pretty bad so that’s the only way up there ruby remembered exactly what had ripped up those stares she’d been the one to kill it after all. she might have made the stares worse with her baby but now wasn't the time to cast blame. even if it was she blamed violent video games scary guy: now did you catch all that? ruby froze, she’d zoned out, why had she zoned out! oh god now he was frowning at her, she’d made him mad! who knows what he’d do to her now? he grabbed her hand and she felt her life flash before her eyes scary guy:*growling* come on she was too young to die! contrary to her previous thoughts, she wasn’t actually in danger. as they had walked she’d noticed something that took her back ruby: you have a cute bunny on your hoodie! scary guy:* embarrassed* it’s pumpkin Pete ruby: *giggles* scary guy: *chuckles* sure go ahead and destroy my pride, ah well at least I made a pretty girl laugh *winks* from there the conversation went to things like comic books, then it went to weapons (scythes are impractical but really cool regardless, he though swords were better the philistine) guns (guns were awesome) older sisters (they both loved them but sometimes they were too much) and sweets (he was actually quite the baker since his mother had told him the fastest way to a girls heart was through her sweet tooth) by the time they made it to the library they were laughing at each others jokes and he was smiling and now she had to say he didn’t actually look that scary... maybe rugged oh no, he was hot! ruby:*blushing* uhsoanywaystheresmysisterishouldgobye! she ran into the library only to be caught by yang and pulled into a bone-crushing hug yang: he didn’t do anything to you right? I swear to god if that asshole touched you Weiss: we’ll need to talk to him blake: why was he even around you? Pyrrha: did jaune hurt you at all? ruby: *struggling to get free* who are you talking about? yang: *looking ruby over* that guy you were running away from ruby: *finally getting free* oh, uh... no, no he didn’t do anything, he actually helped me get here when I got lost Ruby:*internally* so his name’s jaune? huh, short, sweet, rolls off the tongue *nods* I love it Weiss: well I suppose even a monster like him can be kind blake: you should be careful ruby, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what he could have done to you ruby: *tilting her head* huh? Pyrrha: ruby he didn’t touch you did he? ruby: *remembers him grabbing her hand* uh yeah, it was a little scary at first since I didn’t know him *remembers the conversation as they walked* but then I kinda really enjoyed it *remembers what she thought of him before getting to the library, blushes red* I think I kinda maybe really like him now wby+p: *shocked silence* yang: he needs to die

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 3 years

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Share a Lair 06 || Sharing His Space

Max surfaced some time in the afternoon. Jasper and Henry were sitting at the island, eating plates of food whenever he walked into the kitchen and smirked to himself when he saw them. Charlotte’s face brightened up as soon as she saw him. That made him break out into a wide smile. “Morning, Charlotte!”

“Morning? Try maybe three hours ago, Friend.” She laughed and he came over to where she was standing near the stove and leaned against the counter, “You cook?” He asked.

“Oh, no. I didn’t have time, but my Uncle Roscoe is ALWAYS concerned that if the whole family doesn’t have greens and black eyed peas that the year won’t go right. Despite the fact that he’s been cooking and eating this every year himself for ages and I haven’t seen him have a year that I thought went right in my entire life.”

“Can I have some?” Max asked.

“You ask for things nicely?” Henry asked.

“He asks Charlotte things nicely,” Jasper said. The two of them smiled at each other and she furrowed her eyebrows. What the heck did they mean by that?

She ignored them and told Max, “Of course you can. There’s greens and black eyes peas that he gave me entire pots of. All I had to do was warm it on the stove. And also a whole meat pan of ribs, and I may have shot my shot with his cornbread recipe.”

Max grabbed a plate, “So, your family has like a FEAST for New Year’s Day?”

“Kinda,” she said. He just smiled at her.

Jasper watched them carefully and wondered, “Is there something going on here?” Max realized that he was standing extremely close to Charlotte, practically in her personal space and they were just smiling at each other. They both got some distance at Jasper’s question, and he said, “Nevermind.”

Max sat at the table and ate, then had seconds and thirds… Henry’s eyes were wide, “You can really put some food away, huh?”

“I’ve got superpowers,” was all that Max said.

Charlotte, having been finished eating a while ago, but was still in an apron, now nursing a cup of tea sat down and said, “Right, your biology is a little bit different than ours. Like, your scans and vitals and stuff register differently, so of course, your metabolism and probably other functions would too. Plus, with the range of powers that you have, your natural internal processes are probably so different from ours that our estimations can’t really comprehend it!” She sounded so interested, but also, Max almost felt like she was speaking about some bizarre creature.

“I’m human. I have human functions, but yes… my genes do some things differently.”

“Yeah, I mean, yes - obviously you’re human, but you’re superhuman. It’s not exactly the same.”

“I mean… It’s not, but it is!” He said, kind of irritated. Something about the thought of her seeing him differently was troubling for him. Henry grabbed his empty plate and gave Max a weird look as he went to make another plate for himself.

Charlotte said, gently, but sternly, “I wasn’t trying to upset you, Max. I’m trying to understand.” She shrugged her shoulders and left it alone. He obviously didn’t care to talk about this.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” He wondered. “We got back here pretty late and you called me this morning.” Great. Subject change. She nodded.

“I got about 4 hours of sleep, no… 3.” She sipped her tea. “I’ll probably crash tonight as soon as my head touches my pillow.”

“I wore you out last night, I’m sure,” he said. Jasper choked on his food and Henry snorted laughter. Charlotte’s lip dropped. “Grow up. I only meant I kept her out all night, party hopping.”

“What else would he mean? Because everybody here knows that nothing else would have ever happened between us! I’m not… That girl.” He thought about last night’s little kiss… Actually, he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. He’d been thinking about it from the time it happened, even through the dream portion of his sleep. He couldn’t believe that something that lasted so short in real time was having such a lengthy after effect. But also, she clearly didn’t want her friends to know that it even happened.

He got up, collected his plate and tossed it in the sink. “Henry, don’t forget that you or Jasper have clean up duty for the next two months,” he said and retreated back into his chambers.

Charlotte asked, “You lose a bet or something?”

Henry and Jasper both stammered over word vomit, avoiding admitting that they sold her out with house chores. She put her tea cup away, went to Max’s door, and pressed the button that she guessed worked like a doorbell. His voice came through the speaker, “Yes, Charlotte?”

“Hey… Are we okay?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know. You seemed… different… than last night…”

He was quiet for a while and she wasn’t sure if the connection had ended, but he sighed and said, “I’m not the only one.”

She whispered, “Okay, sorry. I will loosen up more. Like last night… Well, maybe not like last night, but…”

He heard him chuckle, “Okay, Charlotte. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Charlotte was more at home in the place than Henry felt lately. He was usually trying to be more mindful about the shared space, considering that he had to be the one to clean it up for now, while she just sort of chilled. She would straight up go into the shared spaces without checking in with Max anymore. She’d pretty much made herself at home.

She even started to wander in wearing night clothes or bringing some to change into, at times. That started, she claimed at Max’s suggestion.

It was the third weekend in January and she staggered out of the tower, exhausted beyond imagination and almost didn’t even notice that Max was outside. When she did, she yelped and startled him. “What is your problem?” He asked, with his hand over his chest.

“What’s yours? What in the world are you doing out here at this time of night?” She asked.

“I live here. I can be out here at whatever time of night I feel like it. What are you doing out here?”

“Getting ready to go home!” She said, a little snappy. “It’s the MLK Weekend and if I miss ANY of the festivities, my parents will have a long, civil rightsy fit. So, I am about to try not to fall asleep as I head back to Swellview so that I can hopefully get a few winks of it before the parade tomorrow morning. Why are you outside of the tower, though?”

This was the best spot for testing out his experiments when he went outside, because the opening was larger than on the other side of the lair. But, he was more concerned about what she’d said before that. “Should you be driving, if you’re this tired? I mean… You could just crash here and meet your folks in the morning, right? Or at least take a nap or something before you go?”

“It sounds like you’re worried,” she said amused.

“You’re the only thing that keeps my housemate and I from battling to his death,” he joked. “But, seriously, it’s dangerous, not just to yourself, but to others on the road.”

“I don’t have much of a choice. Captain Man and Kid Danger didn’t finish their assignment until a few minutes ago, and I can’t sleep in my day stench and old clothes. Gross.”

He sighed, frustrated, but forced a smile that she could see perfectly, even with just a few lanterns and the moonlight. “How about this? Tonight, I can lend you overnight clothes and my shower and stuff and the next time you come around, be sure to have a weekend bag, in case your shift goes too long.”

“Max, I could’ve inconvenienced Henry this way, but I’m not gonna do that to you.”

“It’s not an inconvenience. I’m gonna be way more inconvenienced by wondering if you and the other people on the road made it home safely when I should be testing out this awesome new hoverboard. And Henry? Don’t make me laugh. I feel like I can confidently assume that you wouldn’t be caught dead using his bath products.”

“He uses the same soap for everything.”

“There’s a special place for people like that,” Max said.

She sighed. She really didn’t want to make that drive. “Well… if you’re offering, it’d be rude of me to decline, especially since you’ve made such valid points. But, first thing’s first, lets see what’s so special about this hoverboard.”

Max LOVED when Charlotte was around for one of his inventions. She was one of the few people who he felt genuinely was curious, interested, and impressed by them from the moment she first heard about or saw them. He explained to her about the issues that previous hoverboards ran into and how he made this one with adjustments to those problems and also what he added to make it even better. She totally understood. Whenever he got on it to test it, it took off way faster than she expected and she gasped, but then laughed with excitement at how fluid he seemed on it, even when he did tricks and stuff. Like… WOW. She knew he was athletic, but dang… Ugh… He looked so cool doing stuff on that expert equipment. He pulled back in next to her, kicked an end of it as he leapt off and caught it and placed it under his arm. “I’m gonna be bringing this baby into battle with me. Can you imagine me fighting someone with the aid of this?” He was truly excited, and she was too.

“I can imagine it. I am imagining it, and I will download and save any Hero Tracks that capture it…” He put his free hand in the small of her back and walked her back towards the front entrance.

That night, she realized that his provisions were DEFINITELY more reflective of his work than she would’ve imagined. When you first entered his chambers, there was a long hallway and she noticed that he was deactivating stuff as they walked it, casually speaking and flicking his fingers. So, the lead up must’ve had some great security. Then, they came to what looked like an elevator and he moved his fingers, like he was pressing a code, but of course, didn’t need to actually touch the keys to do so. She worried. Was this going to be like Ray’s elevator? Because she wasn’t sure her head could handle it. But, when it opened, he opened a trap door in the floor and said, “Okay… This slide is really intense. You want me to hang on to you?”

“What? Slide?” She laughed. He sat down and reached for her. “Dear God…” She didn’t know what to pray as she climbed onto his lap and he smiled mischievously before pushing them off with one hand and holding on to her with the other. She. Screamed. This… might have been WORSE than Ray’s elevator. It was like one of those super slides from a water park, but no water and a terrifying drop down. Whenever they came out on the other end, they were practically shot out of the tunnel and floated for a moment as the gravity level of the room accommodated their safety. Her screams should have woken up the entire neighborhood. His laughter was a little bit louder, though. Then, they were released onto a landing pad. He smiled at her as she caught her breath.

“I… That was… Really fun!” She cackled and covered her face. “Oh my God. Is this how you always come home?”

“Usually I cross my arms across my chest like an X, slide down like a boss and control my own landing, but the slide sensed another body and tripped the gravity field control.” Now, she got up and looked around. She never thought that she would be here. He wasn’t a very open person and this was his most private space. It was very dark and mysterious, but also… not creepy, weird, or scary. More like… deep and tranquil. She explored, and to her pleasant surprise, he didn’t stop her. He let her meet his current Venus fly trap, showed her a few gadgets that he was currently working on, and such, and warned her which things to be careful around, because they were either weapons in disguise or guarded possessions with safety systems attached or nearby.

“How do you never accidentally set things off yourself?”

“Gifted, I guess,” he said, grabbing a onesie for her. “Here,” he said and tossed it to her.

“Why do you have a bunny onesie?” She asked, chuckling.

“I can’t wanna be cute and cuddly sometimes?” He gave her a washcloth and a drying towel and said, “Soap and stuff’s in there. Nothing hazardous. The one place that’s completely harmless.”

Charlotte stepped in and asked out loud, “What did they give him the prefect’s bathroom?” She studied the bathtub… She wasn’t really a bath person, but the stuff that was there for a nice long soak might be good for her, and she could always get into the shower afterwards, which there was a little walkway with drains leading to. She went to look at the shower. It had what seemed to be music settings, steam settings, aromatherapy… This bathroom was like… she didn’t want to leave it, to be honest. Henry’s bathroom had your traditional two in one bath/shower and the tub wasn’t even half as big as Max’s. Also… while he just had a toilet, Max also had a bidet! She was gonna have to light a fire under Henry. He would have to work his chops off if he wanted to get some good funding. He probably couldn’t really catch up to Max, but he could maybe at least upgrade a little. “You okay? I don’t hear anything…” Max called from the other side of the door.

“I am fangirling over your amazing bathroom, if that’s okay?”

He laughed. “Carry on. Also… The bathtub has a hot tub setting. If you need it.”

“Oh my God, can I come work for you, instead?” She joked.

“I don’t need any staff, but if you just wanna use my bathroom sometimes, I can grant you an access code.”

And he did! She didn’t tell Henry and Jasper, because, well… it wasn’t their business. And whenever she got up in the morning, having slept in Max’s bed, he was asleep on the landing pad beneath his slide with a sleeping mask on. She wasn’t sure that morning how to get out of the place, so she unfortunately had to wake him up. He ripped off his sleeping mask, alert and practically ready to fight, until he saw her. “Oh… Hey… Morning.”

“Sorry. I don’t know how to get back to the surface.”

He pointed to a door that looked yet again like an elevator, but whenever she opened it, it was an escalator. Okay. She got on, thanked him and left. He dragged himself into bed and laid down. His pillow smelled like her hair. He couldn’t help but to smile about that. He hugged it close and kinda wished it was her. He could’ve possibly made a move last night, but… then she might have thought that he was only nice to her for that. He didn’t want to scare her or make her distrust him. Besides, it was cool kinda building a friendship with her. They didn’t HAVE to be more… Probably wouldn’t be.

But, whatever they were, Henry knew that Charlotte had some type of… power in this house. Power that he didn’t seem to have. “Char… You think that you could get Max to agree to some more living room time?”

“I’m not his housemate, Hen. You are.”

“I know, but he likes you, though.”

Her face got warm, “What? No he doesn’t! I mean, we respect each other. We have a sort of rapport that we’ve managed to develop. But, that’s it. Besides, I told you which of those tower rooms you can make into a wonderful living room within your chambers.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have the SAL swag that is in our shared living room.”

“Technically… That stuff belongs to both of you, or it’d be in Max’s chambers. Believe me, his space is SUPER luxurious.”

“You’ve… been in there?” Henry asked, shocked. “This is what I mean! He let you into his chambers. He would never let me or Jasper in there… Maybe he does like you.”

“God, Henry, not everybody is like you. Some people can just be nice because you’re friends, colleagues, or kindred souls. You don’t have to like everybody that you’re nice to!”

“You’re acting so weird about this. Can you please just get me the living room for the last weekend of this month slash first weekend of next month for a videogame tournament?”

“Ohhhh… He’s having that here, with his friends. You can probably come.” She laughed and waved a hand, “You live here. Of course you can come!”

“His friends? He… Has friends?” Henry said.

“The guys from his high school band, Billy and Nora, and maybe Phoebe? I can’t remember who all was tagged in the post.”

“He… You were tagged in a post invited here, where I live, and I wasn’t even so much as spoken to about it?”

“I didn’t think to…”

“I have to try to get a new housemate,” Henry said, shaking his head.

“Henry…”

“No. I don’t care that in the past couple of weeks he’s become your buddy or whatever is happening there. I work hard too and he can’t treat me like an unwanted guest in my own lair that I share with him.”

“I’m just going to tell you that if you file for a transfer, it’s a lot of paperwork and they ask you to try a number of roommate reconciliation tasks and morale building before they determine that indeed you can’t live with the person that they placed you with. He can’t be that bad, Henry.”

“He is, though. He’s the absolute worst. I’d rather live with Ray.”

“Shameless lie, huh?”

“It felt differently before I actually said it.”

“Tell you what… I will talk to him and if he doesn’t care, then we start looking into some of the SAL reconciliation tasks.” Henry gave Charlotte a big hug, lifting her off of the ground and kissed her hard on the cheek.

“You’re the best, Char!”

“Yeah, every time you need something,” she teased and gave him a shove.

#Share a Lair #Henry Danger #The Thundermans #crossover #crossover fanfic #Nesha Crossover #Thundanger #Thunderbolt #Share a Lair Repost #Nesha HD Fanfic #fanfiction #Share a Lair 06

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