#excuse my dirty nails I was in charge of cooking
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had KBBQ today with my cousins (and their fam)! So worth it! 🫰🏼
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hii <3
i would like to request a headcanon with kazutora, chifuyu mitsuya having sex with their s/o please? if it's too much feel free to ignore it :)
thanks <33 have a nice day/night
- hi there my love !! don’t worry, this request is absolutely fine, and it’s actually the first full nsfw one so I do hope you like it
Kazutora, Chifuyu and Mitsuya general n/sfw headcanons
genre: smut. the characters are depicted as their present selves
warnings: explicit content & language.
Kazutora
jumping right into it, i feel that kazutora is more on the make love side rather than blowing your back out. sure, if you asked him to be rough on an odd day, he'd happily comply. he's just more on the softer side
this is mostly due to his past; he knows what he's capable of, even after all those years since his toman days, so he'd be very precautious not to hurt you in any way
you'll know when he's needy, like you just will. kazutora will turn ever to touchy and try to remain as close to you as possible when he's trying to get you into bed
he doesn't really need words, but he'll speak if you ask him to
"i...really need to be inside you"
don't think this translates as skipping foreplay, though
very much the opposite. kazutora loves feeling up on your soft skin, leaving faint marks with his teeth that would gradually turn into darker shades of purple
he quite likes marking you up, it's really the only thing that could be mildly classed as rough, as he'd frequently leave teeth marks. he adores hearing your voice when he'd catch you off guard with a particularly harsh bite, squirming beneath him
this man is an avid lover of giving oral
he won't turn down a blowjob, but he'd sometimes feel a little awkward whenever you did. he'd ease into it after a few minutes, but he still preferred pleasuring you instead
between your thighs is his favourite place to be, no matter the time of the day. whether you're laying on your back or hovering over his face, kazutora will keep you there for a good while, voicing out praises at you as he basked in your reactions
if his tongue wasn't too occupied, of course
"god, i just can't get enough of you"
make sure to praise him just as much. he absolutely loves hearing loving nicknames from you whenever you tell him how much of a good job he's doing
it gets him even more riled up, and would frequently grind himself against whatever surface you were on
speaking of surfaces, though the bed is the most convenient place to indulge in you, kazutora isn't picky about the location, so long as it's somewhere inside
he's been known to take you whilst you watched a movie, on a counter as you waited for food to cook, even up against a wall when he couldn't be bothered to make it all the way to the bed
as long as he gets to watch your face twist into one of pleasure, he really couldn't care less where it was
a key point when having sex with kazutora: pull his hair
it can be in a ponytail or loose, doesn't matter; he will let out the prettiest moans ever if you just so tugged gently on his locks
it's a sensitive spot of his, so be sure to use it wisely. it'll take him some self control to not go absolutely feral on you if you do, so its best you tell him it's okay to let go before you play with his hair
whenever you start reaching your high, no matter if he's over or behind you, he will bury his face into your neck and suck on the skin, emphasising the already noticeable marks
during aftercare - because this man will pamper you after a session, no matter how long or short it was - he will trace over the marks with light kisses, asking if any of them were still sore
and, of course, a shower will be waiting for you as soon as he's done with that. it's a perfect excuse to spend so more time pressed up against you; a double win, in his eyes
Chifuyu
let's get one thing straight: chifuyu is ready to get it on with you whenever and, frankly wherever. it doesn't take much to get him all needy and, more times that not, he will approach you with the intention of getting in your pants, no matter what you were doing
of course, he will ask if you're up for it, too - consent is key, people
see, he's a very touchy, affectionate person. he loves being around you and will take up any chance to be near you. sometimes, though, this need to be close to you will escalated into something more. even if you were simply cuddling, chifuyu will, occasionally, start to feel his pants getting a little too tight for comfort
when things get going, he is an absolute sweetheart. treating you with care, he will melt into your lips, hands roaming around your body. he's not very talkative during foreplay, but that's mostly because his mouth is usually occupied
however, once your clothes have been discarded, something with click inside of him, making his only goal to leave you in an absolute mess by the time he was done with you
littering your skin with kisses and subtle bites, he will run his hands along your sides, causing goosebumps on your skin that he'd always notice, a sly smile on his lips whenever he did
he's a tease. whilst you try and push your hips towards him, he will simply place kisses on your skin near the area you most needed him to touch
you're going to actually have to tell him what you want before you loose sight of the playful smile that hung on his lips
"that's it...wasn't that hard to ask, now was it?"
chifuyu will get right to the point once he drops his teasing act, though, and expect a good two to three orgasms before he decides he's done with you
when it comes to positions, he likes those in which he can be closest to you. skin on skin is his favourite feeling, and the closer his face can be to yours, the better
when he's pounding into you, he'll bring a hand up to your face. he'd hold it softly, contrasting from his rough pace, and whisper out a series of praises
"you look so pretty like this...does it feel that good? tell me, i want to hear your voice"
a fun thing about chifuyu is that he's a switch, a big one at that. if you find the impulse to flip him onto his back, or simply take over, he will automatically slip out of his position in charge
this is when you'll be able to hear his pretty voice. although he will start with small whimpers here and there, by the time he's edging towards his orgasm he will let out a string of soft moans, grabbing onto you in any way he can as he does
when he reaches his orgasm, his grip will keep you in the position you were in, his body stiffening up as his eyes would close shut
this will be applied whether he's in control or not, honestly. chifuyu loses most of his focus when he's nearing his high, only having enough to call out your name
he may be shorter than most of the guys, but he has one hell of a stamina. one round will never be sufficient for him, and he'd certainly be up to waiting for you to calm down until the next one if it meant he could make you - and himself - see stars again
this will be when, as well as during aftercare, he will give you soft kisses against your skin, massaging areas such as your stomach and thighs as he'd let out hums of happiness
as said before, he's a sweetheart. sure, sometimes you'd be sore after being with him, but he'd always make it up to you with the most perfect cuddling session afterwards
Mitsuya
mitsuya is very skilled with his hands, as shown by his talent when it comes to designing and creating magnificent fashion pieces
watching him work is quite the sight, and even more so if you're familiar with other wonders he's able to do with those fingers of his
but, to start off, know that it will take him some determination to start anything up with you
he's a busy man with a lot on his mind, so it would take him a bit to hold himself back from just jumping on you because of the growing stress that had built up throughout the day
he's a respectful man and, therefore, will take his time and look for subtle hints to see if perhaps you'd follow his lead
when you catch his drift, though, he will be all hands on you
sex is a perfect way to wind down from his hectic schedule, and he couldn't ask for anyone else better to do it with rather than you
oral is key during foreplay. he will start by making his way down on you, his voice speaking words of appreciation between the kisses he'd place on your skin
watching you writhe from the position between your legs was something he thoroughly adored, your body jerking with every skilled move from both his mouth and his fingers
after a good few minutes of pulling his hair and high pitched moans from your behalf, he will lift himself away from you. this will be your turn to switch up places
and also when you'd see the truly, needy mitsuya
you see, he has very, very sensitive skin. his neck, his chest, his waist...with simple touches of your hand, you can reduce him to a squirming mess
when he's the one receiving oral, he will absolutely lose any sense of straightforward thinking, especially if you run your hands on his thighs whilst you peer up at him through your lashes
his moans are like music to your ears. he won't speak much, unable to actually form words as he shivers from the feeling of you between his legs, but his hand on your head will be enough to tell you that you're doing a good job
if he's sat up whilst you give him the blowjob, expect to be pushed down as soon as he reaches his orgasm. he tends to curl over when he does, his whole body turning into a trembling mess
he will make up for accidentally making you gag, though. in the sense that you won't be able to walk straight for the next few days
he may be sensitive, but he also isn't one to go slow when it comes to intercourse. he will also go for a few rounds, loving how you'd come undone before him every time
hold on to him when he does: the feeling of your nails digging into his back whenever he's on top of you always makes him pick up his speed, and he loves the marks that would appear afterwards
it was a way to know that he was taking good care of you
mitsuya isn't one to talk dirty, but he will shower you with loving comments during aftercare. he'd trace your skin with his fingers as you lay on his chest, both equally as tired and worn out
his sex drive is high, but so is his love for you
so he'd always prepare a bath for you afterwards, where he'd try and keep you awake with soft kisses and talking to you whilst you enjoyed the warm water
#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers kazutora#kazutora hanemiya#tokyo revengers chifuyu#chifuyu matsuno#tokyo revengers mitsuya#takashi mitsuya#smut#i just ... phew
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Elude (1)
Moodboard | Prologue
Main Characters: Kyungsoo x Reader (ft. Baekhyun)
Genre: Dystopian AU
Warnings: Mentions of death, murder, illness and suicide
Tags: @squishysoo-12
Word count ~ 1400
A/N: Kinda unedited, sorry! Please let me know your thoughts.
***
You gradually opened your eyes to a rectangular room. It was just adequate enough to accommodate a small table besides the single bed you lay on. On the table stood a battery powered fan and a carefully placed wooden cup of ginseng tea. There were three open shelves affixed to the opposite wall for all your belongings. On the adjacent wall, a pathetic excuse for a window fitted with thick iron bars. Your servant's quarter was devoid of any plug points, ceiling fan, iron nails, sharp edges - for obvious reasons. You had only gone from one prison to another. At least you had the room all to yourself.
You took another glance at the wooden cup. There was a note underneath it.
That was quite an entrance -B
You felt a faint throbbing in the back of your head. Flashes of events from earlier came rushing to you.
Realization hit you like a truck. You froze.
You were in treacherous waters. This house belonged to the man you hated and feared the most. The sheer proximity to him filled you with a sense of dread. No one must find out. But then again no one would find out. Your father succeeded in keeping your identity a secret. As far as the world was concerned, his daughter died in the same car crash that took his wife. You were merely the daughter of two ordinary fisherpeople. The kind the world didn't care about. And to your credit, you had mastered the art of obscurity.
You read the note again.
B?
Byun Baekhyun!
Byun!
Commander Byun was the President's right hand man - second in charge. He had played a major role in thwarting the Rebellion by having several spies on his payroll, eventually causing the Rebels to lose faith in each other. He was the man who had saved the President's life during the Rebels assassination attempt. Not by the showcase of his bravado, but by deceit.
Commander Byun had lost his wife in an illness at the time of the Rebellion. The event didn't weaken him in the slightest. It turned him into a bigger monster instead. Baekhyun must be his son. You wondered how he dealt with it all. The loss, the fear, the chaos.
You were swimming among sharks. And nobody was to be trusted. Your father had taught you to be smart. You would quietly accept any punishment they gave you for fainting, lie low and go on about your job as any other servant would.
You glanced at the teacup again. Unable to remember the last time you had ginseng tea. Although it had gone cold, you relished every sip of it. As if it was your last.
***
The news of your fainting episode had spread like wildfire. It had earned you a nickname in the kitchen - Princess. Your poor partner was stuck with 'Sloth' since the past two years.
"Set these plates on the dining table, will you Princess? Be careful about it", the head-chef ordered.
The volley of taunts and jibes had just begun.
The mahogany dining table, although elegant, seemed a little ostentatious. But then again, what about this place wasn't a gross display of wealth.
You set the three plates in order as instructed. One for the President at the head of the table. One for his wife and the other for their son.
Like any other family, there were stories about this one, too. Apparently, in her younger days, the First Lady was betrothed to a high ranking officer in the Army. The officer died under mysterious circumstances within a week of his engagement. The President had married her almost immediately after, in a hush hush affair. Speculations galore over her decision to marry a man almost twice her age. Some called her a gold digger. Still do. While many called it a moment of insanity.
Their son mostly flew under the radar. His name is Doh Kyungsoo. He is in his mid-twenties. And he’s being trained to be his father’s successor. He has a regimented daily routine. There are hardly any photographs of him in the public domain. Except the ones from the National Day parades. In the pictures, he's always sat next to his father. Dressed in the same black generals uniform, minus the maroon stars, his expressions unreadable. That was all there was to know about him.
You heard footsteps approach from behind, heading towards the kitchen, as you sat straightening the table covers and mats. You didn't bother to turn around. Dinnertime wasn't for another hour at least. It must be your partner making useless trips from the kitchen. Probably trying to get rid of her nickname by overcompensating. The thought filled you with rage. Half of the population was left to starve in detention centres and here you were, along with a small army of people, fussing over a dinner for three.
"Good evening, Imo! Mmm....smells delicious as always"
You heard a gentle but masculine voice coming from the kitchen. The kitchen staff was all women and none of the soldiers or guards were allowed to visit.
"Kyungsooya!", you overheard the head chef squeak, "where were you all this week? Promise you won't disappear on me like that again! I've been so worried! Imo has been cooking all of your favourite dishes! Oh my God, son....you look so frail! You haven't been eating well, have you? You have to fill up on all that I've cooked today, okay?"
Kyungsoo merely chuckled affectionately over the head chefs fretting.
Her sugary sweet tone towards a dictator's son made you want to gag.
You realized that you'd already started off on the wrong foot. And now you'd broken another unspoken rule by not greeting him when he walked past you. You rushed inside the kitchen just so that you could make amends.....it was your turn to overcompensate.
You hurried to the kitchen, stole a quick glance at Kyungsoo, not meeting his eyes and bowed down almost in reverence. To your utter surprise, he bowed back!
He seemed nothing like the man you've been seeing in the newspapers or the State controlled news channels all these years. His otherwise shrewd and stoic expressions looked much softer sans the uniform and the glaring spotlight of manufactured story-tellers. The thick round glasses gracing his face made him seem like the friendliest person to ever exist.
If this was an act, he was pulling it off with immense conviction.
You pretended to do something around the kitchen, picked up a few rag cloths and walked out. And all the while you felt Kyungsoo's eyes lingering on you.
***
The head-chef had a small garden for everyday herbs she used in the kitchen. Every morning you were supposed to water the plants and make sure they didn't die before you did.
"Morning, Princess!"
You recognized the owner of this voice and groaned internally.
You stood up only to bow down to him, "Good morning, Soldier Byun"
"It's Baekhyun for you", he said with a cheeky grin.
A small smile was all you could manage in response.
"You should come see my garden sometime", he said excitedly.
"You keep a garden?", a quizzical smile spread across your face. You just wanted to get this conversation over with. But didn't want to seem disinterested.
"Yes, but it might be a bit too.....bit too refined for your taste. Anyway, I have a question for you. Do you know what's the most important thing big mansions like these have?"
"A good staff to run the place smoothly", you said almost immediately regretting it.
He chuckled, "Correct, but the answer I was looking for is trapdoors"
Your face fell. Whatever his plan, you didn't want to partake in it.
"And there's one right underneath your bed", he thrust a small locked black box in your dirty hands.
He was now dangerously close to you, his voice down to a whisper "A little something from my garden, and I want you to hide this there"
"What...what happened to the girl who worked here before.... before me", you blurted out.
"I killed her", his nonchalant reply disturbed you. Also made you wonder whether this was some kind of a distasteful joke.
"But you have nothing to worry about, Princess. As long as you do exactly as I say"
A look of pure dread clouded your face.
He let out a small laugh and smirked, "Don't worry about it too much. Just follow my lead"
#exosnet#exo series#kyungsoo series#baekhyun series#kyungsoo fanfic#baekhyun fanfic#exo fluff#exo angst#kyungsoo fluff#kyungsoo angst#exo dystopia#baekhyun angst
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So I have 2 requests, you don't have to do both. 1. Loki meeting Wanda for the first time 2. Dr. Strange meeting Wanda for the first time. Neither are in a romantic way just how they would react to meeting her because she is a total badass.
@becausewhyknotme Hello again! So, sorry this took so long, but I finally wrote the fanfic! I’m going to save you all the excuses and just apologize for not writing this sooner, but at least it’s finally here! I didn’t know if you wanted two separate fics of them meeting Wanda, but I ended up writing it all in one. Sorry if it’s not what you wanted, but I hope it is, and I hope y’all enjoy it!
Word Count: 3,503 words
Warnings: None
A/N: I didn’t know if you wanted two separate fics of them meeting Wanda, but I ended up writing it all in one. Sorry if it’s not what you wanted, but I hope it is, and I hope y’all enjoy it!
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“I’m exhausted,” Wanda collapses against the couch in the Avengers Tower living room, resting her head back with a heavy sigh.
“Aww, you’re getting it dirty!” Sam exclaims, making exaggerated arm gestures at the couch, now covered with the mud crusted on Wanda’s jacket. She pops one eye open, raising a brow up at him.
“So?”
“So, it’s the couch!”
“It’s not your house.”
“No, I only live here about five days a week,” Sam scoffs sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
“You should know by now that Sam is a clean freak, Wand,” Natasha walks into the room, dressed in her workout gear and smirking at the two teammates.
“Yeah, apparently the only one here,” Sam mutters, plopping down on a bar stool. “Tony would give you shit too if he was here. I’m pretty sure that one couch alone cost him ten grand.”
“Like that makes a dent in his wallet,” Wanda waves him off, pulling out her phone. Natasha watches the two of them in amusement as she makes her protein shake.
“So how’d the mission go?”
“A success,” Sam jumps on the change of subject, grinning. “Busted the sex trafficking ring, and managed to get the guy in charge of it all.”
“Good,” Natasha nods, spooning the powder into a cup. “I’m going to go do reports right now. Do you have any?”
Sam groans, nodding. “I have some to finish, too. I’ll join you, lemme just go and shower,” With that, he grabs his duffel bag and jogs off to the elevator. Natasha mixes together her drink, looking up at the teenager, who is still occupied on her device.
“What about you, Maximoff? Any reports?”
“I was going to go into the city to get some groceries.” Wanda stands up, brushing off the dirt she left on the couch. “I’ll catch you guys later,” The two bid farewell, the enhanced rushing off to wash up. Once she’s changed into a pair of jeans and an Avengers hoodie, she makes her way into the busier parts of New York. It’s a fairly normal day in the city, with an averagely large crowd roaming the streets and doing their business. No one recognizes her, which is nice. It’s hard to go out nowadays without being recognized by someone as, “That one witch girl”. It can get annoying, but she has it far better than someone like Natasha, or Steve, or God forbid Tony.
However, nothing out of the usual happens. She goes into the market, and buys some groceries, even getting a few more so she can make some Goulash for dinner. Last time she made it, Sam and Natasha had cleaned off their entire bowl in a matter of seconds, letting her know it was a hit. Of course, there were chefs stationed in the cafeteria that were always there to create intricate and delicious dishes, but cooking a meal from home brought back a swarm of memories of standing in the kitchen with her mother as she carefully added in the correct amount of seasonings and spices, with Pietro being shooed out every now and then for trying to steal some food.
The memory… it makes her heart ache. That was a time when things were normal When she would go to school, and run across the streets of Sokovia with her friends without a care in the world. When her biggest problem was Pietro being the world’s most annoying brother, or a girl at school telling her that her shoes were ugly. What a thought that less than ten years later, everyone she once knew and loved were six feet underground.
As her eyes begin to sting with tears, Wanda takes a deep breath and holds her head high, refusing to shed anymore tears. Today is a good day. She’s had a victory with her team, and she is now going to go home and create a victory dinner. She can reminisce on memories another day.
Instead of wallowing in her own thoughts, Wanda decides to dive into others. She’s not breaking their privacy… per se. She is simply making herself aware of those around her, without really listening to what they’re saying. It’s calming, and to focus on the specific person rather than their specific thought helps to down out the chaos going on in her head. Her eyes flicker around, listening to white noise of thoughts emitting from each individuals head. A middle aged man who has rather quiet ones. An exasperated mother whose thoughts are basically screaming. A homeless man who happens to have a fairly serene set of them. She comes across a teenage boy and accidentally listens in on his actual thought, disgust filling her as he seems to be thinking about Wanda, and a vulgar set of things along side it. She sneers at him and rushes forward.
She continues to do that as she walks through the streets, looking in between alleys for more people. However, she halts to a stop when there seems to be some kind of defect. No thoughts. Not one. Not even a trace of thoughts. That’s…. That’s impossible. Everyone thinks. Not one person has ever had an empty head.
It’s a man, who is leaning against the wall of an alleyway with his head held down. He stands there with an uneasy presence, dressed from head to toe in black. Black pants, a black dress shirt, black boots, and even a black coat that cuts off at his calves. The hood of his coat is thrown overtop his head, covering his face.
Another thing Wanda misses about Sokovia? If she had ever seen a man like this at that time, she would have kept her head down and quickened her pace. Now? Now, the driving force of being a hero forces her to investigate.
She walks into the alley, trying not to look like she’s approaching him, and continues to try and pry into his thoughts. It’s almost as if… he’s pushing her out? How is that even possible? She feels like she’s trying to push helplessly against a locked door, with no hope of entering.
“You can stop trying to read my thoughts,” She jumps at the voice, held with a deep British accent. It sounds familiar, but she can’t pinpoint from where.
‘Maybe if I pretend I didn’t hear him-’
“He-llo?” He tilts his head slightly, revealing a bit of pale skin a sharp cheekbone. “I’m talking to you. It’s rude to ignore someone.”
“Do I know you?” Wanda asks, tightening her grip on the groceries. Her other hand is held behind her back, red wisps of energy curling around her fingertips.
“Not personally, no,” He sighs. “But I know quite a bit about you, little witch,” Before Wanda can react, his hand has flown out, a blast of bright green light slamming against her. Damn it. Natasha always told her her reflexes were too slow.
The superhuman slams against the ground with full force, knocking the wind out of her. Wanda groans in pain, squeezing her eyes shut as she rolls on her side and tries to force her powers out, but her body refuses to cooperate. When she opens her eyes, however, that’s the least of her worries.
A gasp escapes Wanda’s throat as she gazes at the setting. She’s no longer in New York. In fact, she’s not sure where she is. It’s dark, with a shadow of green over every rock and mountain that litters this place. Where is she?
“I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now,” Wanda whips around, looking for the man. She pushes aside the pain and forces through a small wisp of red on her palms. “I’ve heard many great things, but I wanted to see it for myself. The Witch, they call you.” The voice seems to be coming from all directions.
Finally, however, as if he’s appeared from thin air, a man sits on a rock, calmly watching Wanda with just a tinge of amusement in his emerald eyes. Wanda squints at him. He looks so familiar… Oh!
“You’re Thor’s brother,” She realizes, holding her hands up as the magic begins to grow. How did she not recognize him immediately? He’s out of the dark clothing and now wears his traditional Asgardian outfit, his black hair slicked back. What was his name again?
“I’m not ‘Thor’s brother’,” He rolls his eyes and mocks her in a high pitched tone. “I am Loki, son of Laufey, prince of Asgard, rightful king of Jotunheim, God of mis-”
“I don’t care,” Wanda spits, and doesn’t hesitate to wire up a big energy blast and direct it at him. It slams against him, knocking him dead on the ground. Wanda lets out a breath she had been holding, but it’s knocked back again when Loki materializes beside her, sighing at the body on the floor. His body. “H-how-”
“You really are so rude,” He scoffs. What is it that Steve and Natasha always tell her? Never lose your cool in a battle? She tries to maintain it to the best of her ability, using another blast to disintegrate him this time. That had to have taken him out, right?
Wrong.
Loki appears again, this time looking a bit bored. “As I said. Rude,” A low growl of frustration escapes her throat, Wadna losing her patience. She normally wouldn’t if this was just any other criminal. But angry, murderous villains who wipe out a significant amount of people because they believe they should be able to rule the world?
Those kind of villains get especially on her nerves.
She uses a bigger blast of energy this time, surrounding him first before caving the ground in on itself. He disappears into the ground, dead. This is the third time, however, and Wanda knows exactly what is about to happen. Another form of Loki appears, sitting leaning contently against a rocky wall while studying his nails.
“But your power,” He remarks in awe. “Now that is quite impressive. If only you knew how to control it. Come on, keep going. This is entertaining,” Wanda stands up, staring at him straightly. When no attack come, he looks up. “I’m assuming we’re ready for a civil conversation?” He yawns. Wanda doesn’t respond, but he takes her silence as answer enough.
With a snap of his fingers, everything vanishes. Well, not everything. They just appear in a different room. It’s not New York, and Wanda is now assuming he has her in some sort of makeshift reality. She just can’t seem to figure out how to snap out of it.
The room is clean, and white. There are no windows, and the walls and flooring seem to be made out of the same glossy white material. There are a few pieces of blocky white furniture, and the only color in the room is the large, breathtaking mural on the ceiling. A war between two colonies, one army of people who look a bit like Thor with a variation of body sizes and colors, while the other are blue giants. In the center is a baby, one half blue, and the other of normal skin color. It is so out of place in this colorless room it sends a series of chills up Wanda’s arms.
Loki sits in one of the chairs, dressed in his green and gold attire, sipping from a silver goblet of what looks like rich red wine. Or blood. Wanda wouldn’t be surprised if it were blood.
“What do you want?” Wanda snarls, her powers boiling on her fingertips. She knows it will do no good, but it’s habit at this point. Loki sets the cup down slowly, staring down at his lap.
“We’ve already covered this,” Chilling emerald pupils snap up, practically burning holes into her own. “I have been wanting to meet you for-” The trickster doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, for in just a second, he’s cut off by a golden circle angrily sparking like a fire forming around his feet, slowly opening up. His eyes frantically move between the ground and Wanda, who is just as confused. In an instant, he falls through, the circle swallowing him whole and closing up again.
It takes a few minutes for Wanda to process what just happened. What just happened?! Her thoughts go a mile a minute. Loki is a trickster God. She knows this., Perhaps this is just another one of his tricks… ? But what good would this even do for him?
The setting slowly begins to disappear, the room turning back to the busy streets of New York. People continue walking beside the alley, as if they have no clue she was just sucked into the twisted reality of a Norse God. They don’t know. Shakily, Wanda walks over to her groceries and picks them up, fumbling for her phone. She needs Avengers back up for this. Wanda wasn’t exactly a superhero when Loki attempted to take over New York, but she knows enough. Enough that she is aware that Steve, Natasha, Tony, and even the retired Clint need to know about this situation.
However, that chance is sucked away from her as another golden circle appears, this time beneath her own feet.
“Oh shi-”
***
Wanda groans softly as she lays on the floor. She doesn't want to get up. If Steve were here, he’d chastise her for giving up so soon. “A hero always needs to get back up,” He would say. If Natasha were here she would probably just attack her and force her to get up.
However, Wanda is tired. She can hear thoughts now, and not one of them is attempting to attack her. If anything, they’re all fairly calm. Curious. Some are cautious, but that’s nothing new.
After a moment, she finds a particularly interesting one. Not quiet like the others, but louder, and, to be quite honest, a bit annoying with the amount of pride. It reminds her a bit of Tony, without all the self pity and guilt. He- it’s he, as far as she can tell- decides to try and grab her. Not in a vicious manner, but more to help her up. She doesn’t want help.
Sighing through her nostrils in annoyance, Wanda flicks her wrist, easily knocking back the man without having to open her eyes. Once she hears a loud oof, followed by alarming thoughts attacking her mind, she opens her eyes and sits up.
Seeing a bunch of men and women dressed in robes while holding up shields and whips that have fiery golden sparks bouncing off of them is not what she expected.
“Stand down,” The man she knocked back holds his hand up, levitating up off the ground.
“Who are you?” Wanda spits, jumping up and getting into a defensive position. Who are these people? The man she attacked seems to be their leader, dressed in the same robes apart from a crisp red cloak wrapped around his shoulders, an eye shaped amule sitting on his chest. The cloak… has thoughts? It’s a living being? What is this, some kind of cult?
“My name is Doctor Stephen Strange,” The man- Doctor Strange- explains, holding his hands up. A ring loops around two of his fingers, but other than that, he seems defenseless. “We were trying to help you.”
“I don’t need help.”
“Well, you managed to attract the attention of a being that we have been keeping watch on,” Doctor Strange looks behind him, sneering. Wanda follows his line of sight to find Loki on his knees, some kind of metal device wrapped around his body, holding it in place. He doesn’t seem angry, or worried. More annoyed, if anything.
“I was doing fine,” Wanda rolls her eyes, shooting a deadly glance at Loki. “He’s annoying, but not deadly.”
Loki’s voice comes out muffled beneath the restraints as he tries to speak, his brows lowering. Wanda has no doubt he’s trying to defend himself, while also insulting her in some way.
“Do you know why he was after you?” Strange asks, ignoring his prisoner. Wanda doesn't get an alarming vibes off of the surroundings individuals, so she deems it okay to allow her powers to die down.
“I don’t know. Something about my powers,” The witch replies, raising a brow at him. “You’re turn to answer questions. Who the hell are you and why am I here?”
“We’re sorcerers,” Stephen holds his hand up, dismissing his fellow… sorcerers? They depart, and the few that stay go back to completing their own tasks of meditating or reading. “We monitor and protect the Earth, along with the Eye of Agamotto. There are a list of creatures in this universe we monitor, and you and Loki are on that list.”
Wanda blinks at him. “I’m sorry… what?”
“What part of that was confusing?”
“All of it?” Wanda scoffs, her brows shooting up. Though, not really. She’s already read their minds, and knows exactly what they are speaking of. All this time… sorcerers? Wizards exist? Some magical force protecting the universe has been hiding in the shadows since Earth was first created? She has so many questions running through her mind, but finally decides to settle with one. The one question that gnaws at her the most. “Why are you watching us?”
It’s simple enough, but the thought of someone watching her… it brings an uneasiness to Wanda. She’s been watched. By Hydra, for what felt like centuries. Kept in a little containment room like a bug, observed closely for some sick science project.
“Loki has brought up many reasons to be viewed as a threat,” Stephen explains, raising a brow at the Norse God. “The attack on New York, attempting to take over Asgard, working with other individuals that are also viewed as threats… I don’t think I need to go on. But you,” He nods to one of the men that had stayed in the room, and after reading his mind, Wanda was able to see that his name was Wong, and he was a librarian of sorts. Wong made a few odd symbols with his hands, and above them projected a glowing image. It seemed to be the outline of a girl, who, judging by the body shape, seemed to be Wanda. Surrounded around her was a chaotic mess of scarlet powers. “You have the potential to be one of the most powerful beings that has ever walked this earth. We monitor you to make sure that power doesn’t get out of control.”
“Because you think I don’t know how to handle it?” Wanda spits, glaring. She may still be learning the extent of her abilities, but she won’t have some group of magicians treating her like some child that’s on the verge of a tantrum. Strange is quiet for a moment, not breaking eye contact for a second.
“Yes,” Wanda scoffs at his answer. “Can you blame us? You’ve underestimated them before. Luckily, in those situations, the Avengers handled you. But what if they can’t? You may be powerful, but you almost got manipulated by Loki here easily.”
“He’s the God of mischief!” Wanda bursts, feeling energy bubble up on the surface of her hands. She’s had enough of this. She will leave, whether they allow her or not. Doctor Strange notices the red heat coming from her hands. In the corner, while watching them, Loki begins to speak beneath his chains, however, it all comes out muffled.
“Wait,” Stephen holds out a hand. “I’d really rather speak to you without having to get violent.”
“I don’t want to speak,” Wanda glares, ignoring as Loki’s muffles become louder. “Move, or I will make you move.”
The sorcerer opens his mouth to argue back, however, he’s cut off by Loki’s muffled words getting too loud to ignore. Both individuals turn towards the Frost Giant, annoyed.
“What?” Stephen snaps. Wanda rolls her eyes and flicks her wrist, the mouthpiece coming apart. As soon as it does, Loki stretches his jaw, clenching and unclenching it.
“Thank you,” He rolls his eyes. “And I was saying that I did not reach out to you-”
“Kidnap,” Wanda corrects, glaring. Loki sighs.
“Whatever. I did not speak to you because I thought your powers seemed intriguing. That was one of the reasons, but not the main,” Stephen crosses his arms.
“Then what’s the reason?”
“Really? The great and powerful Sorcerer Supreme does not know?”
“Fine. I’ll go get the chains.”
“Will you two stop arguing?” Wanda snaps at both of them, turning back to Loki. “Speak. Why are you ‘reaching out’ to us?”
“Well,” Loki clears his throat. “I was trying to speak with you, not Strange, however, I suppose it’s better this way.”
He stops speaking for a moment, thinking over his words. Stephen frowns. He’s never heard of Loki Odinson being left at a loss for words.
“I… need your help,” Loki’s features turn worrisome. “There is something coming to Earth.”
---
So, I wasn’t sure how to end this off, so I decided to end it with a mysterious mission! Hope you enjoyed :)
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"You're always on my mind" Renzei
A little more explicit than I’m used to. Name used here is Valkyrie. ——When Duke had suggested a meal at his place as a team bonding exercise, I had not been expecting this. The breakfast Duke lays out for us in his apartment is worth more than what I make in a month. Every ingredient looks like it has been imported from countries I could never hope to find on a map, and the scents dance around the room promising something entirely new and foreign. I am both in awe and intimidated by the sheer luxury of it all. Andi lets out a shrill whistle, excitement in her gaze, and reaches for a plate. She snags a crepe loaded with fruits and snatches a muffin that looks like it had been purchased from a high end bakery I could never even afford to breathe in. “This is quite the spread, Duke, are you trying to impress us?” Andi tilts her head and pops a piece of the crepe in her mouth, “Because it’s working.”Duke lifts his coffee to his lips and shrugs. He looks utterly nonchalant at the meal as if used to eating like this all the time. And if his net-worth online is anything to go by, he probably is. “I just wanted to make sure everyone would enjoy a meal. I invited Bat but he sent me a string of mad emojis and complained that I was discriminating against masked people,” Duke admits. I make a sound at the back of my throat to feign listening and lean back in my chair. Everyone around me is utterly at ease. Duke rests back on his chair with a coffee mug in his hands, Lorelei picks out an assortment of fruits on her plate, Andi babbles on about a new SnapShot event upcoming while piling her plate with more sweets than what I could eat in a month let alone a day-And Renzei looks at me while filling his mug with coffee. I bristle at him and forcibly tear my gaze away from him. I am still mad from our argument last night and want nothing more than to forget about his existence. My fingers drum on the table and I busy myself chasing a grape around with my fork. “Did you make these yourself?” Lorelei voices out. She sits next to Renzei and cuts a delicate piece from a sausage. Duke admits he did and seems flustered by the attention. He begins to talk details about his cooking while Renzei reaches out his leg. His shoe bumps mine underneath the table lightly and he gazes me. His face is impassive to everyone yet his voice sounds pouty in my head. ”Are you still mad at me, Val?” He inclined his head to one side and takes a long drink from his cup. I pretend not to hear him, hard to do with my powers, and busy myself folding my napkin in my lap. “They’re good, Duke,” I hold up a sausage with my fork and pointedly avoid looking at Renzei. Duke nods, a fine dust of pink on his cheeks, and changes the subject to something he is working to unveil at his company. I listen for half a second before Renzei’s voice comes back on my mind. ”Val…I’m sorry.”I hum and continue to ignore him. My fork stabs a piece of egg a little more forcefully than necessary. Andi finishes her bite of crepe before reaching for another one. “I wish SnapShot added some of the emojis ChatSphere has. Who designed them?” “I have a team in charge of the design…” Duke begins to list off some names and I feel Renzei’s shoe bumping mine again. ”Talk to me?” He meets my gaze evenly and there’s a little glimmer of something in his eyes. I bite my lip and turn my body to face Duke at one end of the table yet direct my thoughts at Renzei. ”There’s nothing left to say,” I make my voice sound final. Renzei isn’t giving up without a fight. He also turns his body towards Duke, feigning interest, and projects his thoughts to me. His calf rest against mine under the table to serve as a tether to my powers. ”I thought about what you said, and I’m sorry. I was out of line. Forgive me?” His eyes meet mine for half a second and he gives me a pleading look. He is remorseful, I can tell. I’m not sure I want to let him off the hook so easily. ”So now you want to think about me? Now you care?” I forcibly kick his shin. He doesn’t react to the pain aside from biting down on his fork a little harsher than necessary. I have to suppress my smirk. “What bakery are these from?” Andi brandishes a crepe. “It’s a few blocks from here. I recognize the taste. I don’t have a sweet tooth but I enjoy their pastries,” Lorelei answers her. Renzei settles his leg back against mine. ”You’re always on my mind.”I bite my cheek. “These are really good,” I hold up a piece of bacon. “It’s from Italy,” Duke shrugs nonchalant. I nearly spit it out in shock. Renzei curls his fingers around his own piece and holds it up to the light. “I won’t even ask how much it cost.” His gaze turns back to mine. ”But I will ask you how I can make it up to you?”“You don’t want to know,” Andi chirps. I mimic her. ”You don’t want to know.”Duke looks confused, used to eating like a millionaire no doubt, and frowns.“I just like Italian bacon better. The ones from here are good, but nothing compares to these,” he sounds defensive. “No one is judging you,” I clarify. I try and tap Renzei’s leg from mine again to cut off our bond. It’s the equivalent of trying to move a rock. ”What if I take you to lunch at that place you like?” Renzei tilts his head. “I’m getting full. Thanks for this Duke,” I smile at Duke but aim my words at Renzei. Duke shrugs and sips his coffee, Renzei bites his lip. “I have a bottomless stomach,” Andi smirks. She’s on her third crepe now and it really looks like she can go for three more. I envy her. “Which is why I ordered extra,” Duke’s lips quirk up at Andi. ”Movies then? That new one, Starship Comet looks good,” Renzei tries again. At this point, I’m no longer angry but it’s interesting to see him try. I try and tune in to Lorelei’s talk about a new project she’s working on while directing my thought at Renzei. ”Saw it last week with Robin. She gets with the badass, super-soldier.” I purposefully send him a memory of the main character kissing Nova. Renzei groans at the spoiler in my head and sends me a dirty look. I ease back in my seat content with the mental quiet. “…still drawing it out but I think it’ll look good. For some reason, gothic homes are coming back into fashion. Maybe I can add a few tweaks to make it more modern,” Lorelei concludes. She traces her fingers on the table’s surface as if sketching out her new architect project. “That sounds great,” I encourage. Renzei continues to be quiet, probably giving up on ways to atone, and moodily picks at his napkin. He’s silent for about two minutes before new inspiration shines on his face. Over the rim of his coffee, I can see the corners of his mouth tilt up in a smirk. ”I know how I can make it up to you then,” he all but purrs in my ear. I narrow my eyes at him and pass Andi a napkin. I am both concerned and excited by the mischief shining in his eyes. Renzei’s leg moves up to my shin and he sends me a smug smile. He looks like he’s paying attention to Lorelei, but his mind is definitely on me. I don’t like this, feel more than a little suspicious, and kick at his shoe inquisitively. ”There’s so many ways I can make this up to you,” Renzei purrs in my ear. I feel his mental confidence in every syllable. Before I can ask what he means, he shows me. His thoughts flood into me so suddenly that I can’t guard myself against them. I can see us at Renzei’s apartment. He is behind me, pressing into my back, and his mouth is right on my ear. His breath is shallow and his body is shivering against me. My hands work slow on him, teasing him, and my own heart is racing. In the bathroom mirror, I can see us. Renzei is pressing behind me, gray eyes half lidded in utter pleasure and teeth grinding. He is shirtless and his belt is undone to grant me access. He presses me into the sink so that I can see my reflection clearly. My hair is a mess, my teeth are digging into my lower lip, my face is flushed, and one hand holds me steady against the sink while the other reaches back behind me and-I jerk away from the memory and slam a mental door on Renzei’s thoughts. My face feels hot and I have to wipe at my mouth with a napkin to hide it. None of the others have noticed but Renzei looks a little too innocent in his seat. I send him a mental image of my finger. ”Stop it. Ass.”Renzei raises an eyebrow at me, still feigning angelic innocence, and leans back in his chair. He picks a piece of sausage from his plate and holds it up to his lips. “There’s a new book I’m reading. It’s number one on the New York list.”He chews on his meal as an excuse not to continue verbally. Instead, his voice is a satisfied smirk in my head. ”You didn’t like that one? Fine. There are other ways to make it up to you.”I bite my cheek and try to resist his next mental image but it’s too strong.This time I’m at a restaurant booth and am pressing into the wall. Renzei has sat next to me as opposed to opposite of me and has one hand on my lap. He is talking to the server about a menu item he saw that he wants to modify for his order. With one hand, he animates his talk with the waiter about adding some spices while, with the other, he works a line against my thigh. My lips are pressed tight to avoid making a sound and my nails are digging into his wrist as a warning. A part of me is mortified that we’re in public and the waiter could see if he looked down rather than at his clipboard, but another part of me really doesn’t want him to stop. My breath begins to hitch as his fingers work higher. His nails skim the bottom of my skirt and teasingly ghost underneath. My grip on his wrist tightens and I try to use the table mantel to cover our laps. Renzei continues his talk with the waiter, this time ordering an expensive drink, and looks completely normal. He taps at a wine on the menu with his right, and his left hand ventures to the one place I really want him to go to. My breath begins to hitch and I have to bite down on my lip to keep quiet-I tear away from the second mental image and glare pointedly at Renzei. My face is really burning now and I am grateful Andi is the center of attention as she tells us about her day. My fingers shake as I stab my eggs. ”We’re in public, Renzei.” I mean to hiss it at him, scold him for misbehaving, but it comes out breathless. My mind is a muddled mess and it shows. Renzei’s smirk grows. He makes a noise at the back of his throat like he is agreeing with Andi and swirls his tongue against his fork to clean off the last of his meal. I burn at the sight and train my eyes intently at my plate as a distraction. Nevertheless, Renzei is back in my head. ”Then be quiet,” he purrs. I jolt as another memory floods me. This time I’m in my own apartment and am spread on the couch. Robin is in their room, I can hear them playing a game on the television. Renzei is on top of me, hands pinning me down on either side, and his lips are working on my neck. My heart is pounding and I am trying not to make a sound. My fingers shake against his jacket collar and I take a fistful of fabric to steady myself. “Robin is in their room,” I hiss it under my breath and accidentally let out a small pant as he finds a spot beneath my ear. Renzei draws away and there is a part of me that really doesn’t want him to. His hands move down to my sides where he lifts my sweater up. His fingers skim my skin and his lips brush past mine. “Then be quiet,” he whispers. He is so close his mouth tickles mine as he talks. I draw away, body quivering, and bite down on my hand. Quiet is something that doesn’t exist in that moment. Every part of me is burning like a supernova and I really, really am trying to keep my breaths even, yet it’s not working. Renzei rolls his hips forward and it is all I am not to make a sound. He seems to be enjoying the effect he has and moves his head from my chest to my stomach. His fingers are already starting to wander further south. I bite down on my wrist to the point of almost breaking through the skin. My room is so close from here, we could go there instead. When I float the idea to Renzei, he shakes his head and smirks. “You’d never make it there,” he murmurs. He’s right. My limbs already feel like jelly and walking takes effort. I clamp my mouth down on my hand and squeeze my eyes shut. Robin is still playing their games oblivious to what is happening right outside their door. I wish they would close it all the way so that there would be no risk of being found out-A hiss escapes my mouth as Renzei’s mouth moves lower. My fingers grasp at his hair and I clamp my other hand over my mouth to muffle my breaths-I jump in place and my fork goes skittering away. It clatters next to Andi’s foot and I become the center of attention. Lorelei and Duke, previously in conversation, stop and stare. Andi raises an eyebrow and Renzei hides his smirk by wiping at his mouth with a napkin. “Sorry,” I apologize. My breath comes out a little uneven and I am embarrassed further. Andi bends down to pick up my fork as Duke raises an eyebrow. “Are you alright?” I try to remember how to form coherent thoughts. Renzei, the asshole, looks like the picture of innocence in his seat. His eyebrow is raised in concern and he looks as baffled as everyone else. I clench my jaw and accept the fork from Andi. “Fine. My finger slipped.”Duke waves the fork away and passes me a new one with the explanation that the old one touched the floor. I take it from him and try to hide the fact that my fingers are shaking. If he notices, he decides not to comment on it. After another pause where the Syndicate each levels me with concerned stares, Lorelei launches back into her conversation with Duke. I jab my new fork into my toast and all but glare at Renzei. ”Fuck you,” I hiss. Renzei raises an eyebrow at me and looks amused. He busies himself folding a napkin into an origami shape. ”You already have.”His tone is extreme amused and mischievous. I all but melt as his thoughts prod at me again. This time, we’re in his bedroom. His full weight is on top of me and his breath is right in my ear. I can hear each shallow paint and groan as it leaves his throat. My nails claw at his back, mouth moves with his name, and body jerks with every movement. He once told me he’d make me loud, and he is a man of his word. His name spills from my lips like a prayer but there is nothing holy about what he’s doing to me. The headboard clangs with every movement and I am sure we’ll get a noise complaint soon. My own voice rises in tone and I feel him shiver with energy. My body is aflame and my mind is melting. I open my mouth and his name falls out in midscream. I hear my own name in his mouth, taste it as he presses his lips to mine in an attempt to muffle it, and he presses deeper. The bed creaks with every movement, my mind explodes with fireworks and flames, and his body begins to grow more frenzied. I begin to scream and his once quiet breaths turn into guttural pants and then forceful groans. He grows more impatient, moves faster so much so that I worry his bed will give way, and his body jerks erratically. My head lolls back and I take in the sight of his face flushed, eyes half lidded in ecstasy, and sweat forming on his brow. We’re both so close. I can feel it. He jerks forward again and he brings us closer. And closer. And closer. And closer-I force myself out of the memory with a jerk. My leg moves away from his to sever our connection and I slam my mind shut. I freeze him out as my heartbeat pounds in my ears. Renzei looks like the paragon of innocence and almost has a halo above his head. I shake with frustration and grit my teeth. Fuck him. Asshole. I aim a hard kick at him-And Duke jerks up instead. His knee bumps the table and he jerks at me. He stops mid sentence and glares. “Valkyrie!” His voice is harsh but there is more confusement than anger. I stammer, realizing that I have kicked him rather than Renzei, and press a hand to my knee. “Muscle spasm,” I gasp out. I rub at my leg to make it look convincing. Andi nearly chokes on her pastry and Lorelei narrows her eyes at me. Duke turns his icy gaze on me longer. And Renzei looks like the cat that ate the canary. He presses a hand to his mouth to muffle his laughter and gives me a triumphant smirk. I can almost feel the satisfaction and mischief rolling off him in waves. He reels it in after a pause and sits upright in his chair. “Are you sure you’re alright, Val? You look red,” he manages to sound entirely concerned. I debate on kicking him again but Duke is still rubbing at his calf and I decide that might not be the best course of action. Instead, I glare at Renzei and clench my jaw. “I feel fine. Sorry, Duke.”Duke waves away my apologies although he is still pressing his hand to his leg and motions for Andi to continue whatever question she was going to ask. I clench my fingers around the napkin in my lap and glare at Renzei. He has accomplished whatever goal he set out to do and is now paying avid attention to Andi. I can’t let that go. I decide to play his little game and feign finishing up my coffee. I direct my thoughts at him and put them on blast. His hands are at my hair and his breath is shallow. He’s louder than I’ve ever heard him before and his entire body is quaking. I’m so used to seeing Renzei composed and sure of himself that it is a pleasant surprise to see him come undone like this. His mouth is in a perfect ‘o’, his eyes are squeezed shut, his hands are guiding my head into a rhythm, and his entire face is flushed. It is a very welcome sight and I focus all of my attentions on getting him to that finish. He’s so close now, I can tell. His hands are becoming more frantic and his voice is raising in volume. My name spills from his lips like a mantra and I try not to let him spill from my own. His excitement is almost palpable and he’s so, so close. He’s teetering over that edge, ready to fall apart. I move my head one last time. Just as he gets that release-I cut off the transmission. Renzei, previously poised to ask Lorelei a question, cuts himself off with a gasp. He drops his coffee cup suddenly and it goes flying down. He manages to catch it with his wind powers moments later but the liquid spills across his front. Lorelei and Duke bolt upright. Some coffee has spilled on the table top and Duke dives for the napkins. Andi jumps from her seat. “Oh my God! Are you okay?” She moves to help Renzei and shoves napkins in his hands.The coffee has spilled on his front and some steam is curling up. It had to have hurt when it splashed. The liquid was piping hot. I almost feel guilty until I remember how much he has teased me today. I get up from my seat and go around the table. Renzei is wiping at his shirt although his hands are shaking. Duke and Lorelei move the plates from the table before any more liquid can seep into them. Andi goes for more napkins. “What was that?” Lorelei aims a look at Renzei. I come up from behind him and give him my own innocent look. “Are you feeling okay?” I echo him from earlier and reach over him to get him more napkins. “I lost my grip on the cup. Sorry,” Renzei aims the apology at Duke. The coffee has made a mess of things and has even splashed on Duke’s sweater. He shakes his head and dabs at the tablecloth with a napkin. It’s a futile attempt. The fabric is soaked and ruined. “Do you need a change of clothes? The coffee was hot,” Duke eyes Renzei’s front. Steam is still rising from where the coffee has spilled everywhere. For some reason, Renzei jerks forward into the table. He lifts the tablecloth up and bends his body forward as if to shield something from view. “No. I’m fine.” He doesn’t sound fine. Lorelei and Duke move away and tug the tablecloth up. Renzei is forced to let go although he doesn’t adjust his posture. “Your clothes are soaked. Just borrow a sweater from Duke,” Lorelei scolds. Renzei shakes his head and remains adamant. He yanks his jacket off and moves to tie it around his waist. When he moves to stand up, I realize why he was shielding himself earlier. My little retaliation has gotten to him more than I thought. His excitement level is up-And it isn’t the only thing up. I bite my laugh back and press my hand into his back. He rises and turns around to hide himself from view. Thankfully, Duke, Lorelei, and Andi are too busy cleaning up the mess to notice. Renzei sends me a look that promises to get back at me tenfold and I blink innocently back at him. “Perhaps I should take Renzei home. He needs new clothes,” I suggest. The others agree and I guide Renzei out. He apologizes to Duke for the mess again but doesn’t turn around. This earns him confused stares but no one asks anything. We reach the front door to Duke’s apartment and I guide Renzei out. As soon as the door closes behind us, he whirls on me. “The coffee was hot,” he hisses. He lifts his shirt away from his skin and I can see the redness of his stomach. I smirk. “Not the only thing about you that is hot right now.”I turn to walk away and hear the growl in his voice. His fingers catch my arm and he dives for me. His arm presses me into his side and his lips go for my ear. I can feel his excitement and anger. “Tease,” he breaths out, “Are you still mad at me?”I think on it and pretend to be nonchalant. “Mm…no. But you still need to make it up to me.”He glares. “How?”I smirk and let my hand drift to what he tried to use his sweater sleeves to hide. When I find my target, I hear his hiss of breath and feel him tighten his arms around me. I lower my breath into a sultry whisper and give him a burning look from the corner of my eye. “I have a few ideas.”Renzei’s lips quirk up and he leads me away from Duke’s apartment. By the looks of things, he likes my idea. Breathless and more than a little excited, he smirks. “Deal.”
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stand by me
1 - Are you one of those people who can watch TV shows and movies over and over again without getting bored? yes!!! I prefer to water my favs over trying something new, I’d really have to be interested to watch something else
2 - If you drink coffee, do you like it plain or would you rather have something like a latte or something flavoured? latte for sure, preferably a matcha latte (from pret :))))))
3 - How did you used to dress ten years ago? Do you dress in a similar way now? so aged 11, a lot of stretchy jean jeggings and colourful tops, no elaborate accessorising, very simple and basic and most importantly comfortable
4 - When you’re grocery shopping, do you buy known brands or are you happy to go with the generic store version? I can go both ways
5 - Do you have a close relationship with any of your cousins? not really
6 - Who was the last person to sleep over at your house? Does this person stay over often or was it more of a one-off? I had a one night stand last year
7 - Does bad weather put you off going out if you’ve got plans to do so? Have you ever cancelled plans due to the weather? depends if the plans are spent outside but if we are going to a bar or restaurant then the weather wouldn’t stop me
8 - When you’re on vacation, do you prefer doing the typical tourist things, or would you rather explore somewhere off the beaten track? typical tourist things but once they’re done I could go off the beaten track
9 - Did your family travel a lot when you were younger? we went to places around Europe but never outside of it
10 - When was the last time you went shopping for clothes? Did you get anything decent or find any bargains? shopping online for clothes, literally had a delivery yesterday, I needed a raincoat
11 - Is it true that accessories can make or break an outfit? for sure, I wish 11 year old me knew a bit more about accessorising!!
12 - What is your worst memory from high school? What about the best? worst memories were probs fighting with my friends, it was an awful stressful feeling but the best memories is laughing around with those same friends!
13 - Is there any trait in a potential partner that would be a total deal breaker for you? different sense of humour probably
14 - Do you insist people use coasters if they’re putting drinks down in your house? nope but I think they do automatically
15 - Have you ever been arrested? Were you guilty of whatever it is you were arrested for? nope never
16 - Name five items on the shelf nearest to you: vinyl player, ben e king record, camera, camera bag, passport
17 - After meals, do you wash dishes up right away, or do you leave them in the sink and do a whole days worth at once? leave them on the side for the dishwasher
18 - What websites do you find yourself spending the most time on? recently, netflix, asos, twitter, tumblr, redit, insta,
19 - Do you still download music and TV shows? sure if I’m going on a long journey I download them to listen to offline
20 - Does your phone have a good battery life? How long does it last before you need to charge it again? depending how much I use it but I can usually get through the whole day before I charge it at night
21 - When was the last time you hit snooze? this morning
22 - Did you ever play The Sims? Which expansion pack was your favourite, if you had any? I used to play Sims castaway but it was ages ago
23 - Are there any popular film series or TV shows that you just don’t get the appeal of? cooking shows, I find them quite boring and they make me hungry!
24 - As a child, did you receive pocket money or an allowance? How much did you get? Was it dependent on you doing chores of some kind? yes I think it was £10 a week or something, nope no chores I guess I was lucky
25 - Do you think your parents did a good job of raising you? Would you do anything differently with your own kids? I’d try and go outside of europe for holidays, but I guess that will depend on my finances and what my children are up for
26 - If something is bothering you, do you have to fix it right away? my brother is talking to his friend and its really annoyingly loud
27 - Are there any household jobs you enjoy doing? If so, what’s the reason that you enjoy those things? hoovering my room and seeing my floor become cleaner
28 - Do you still live in the area you grew up in? Would you like to live somewhere else one day? Where would you go? I had to move back home after uni but I really want to go back to London once everything resumes
29 - Do you smoke, drink or do drugs? How old were you the first time you tried those things? Do you want to quit? drinking happened at 15/ 16 and marijuana at 17
30 - What’s one thing that really grosses you out? Is it something you have to deal with anyway? How do you cope? hair in the shower drain GROSS or I guess anything in the shower drain just grosses me out
31 - Have you ever grown your own fruits or veggies? Did it work out okay or was it a bit of a failure? my padre does! tomatoes and blueberries, used to grow raspberries
32 - Could you ever raise animals only to kill and eat them later on, or would you struggle to kill a living thing you’d formed an attachment to? If it is my last resort you gotta do what you gotta do
33 - When was the last time you painted your nails? I got my nails done just before lockdown happened last week
34 - If you regularly sit in the same place (on your bed or the sofa, for example) do you have a cupboard or something to keep supplies in so you don’t have to keep moving all the time? I have a snack tin next to me and a jug of water, been thinking about moving my spare kettle into my room to make teas instead of having to go downstairs but that would be the height of my laziness
35 - Have you ever been a witness to a crime? Did you have to make a statement to the police? nope
36 - Do you prefer Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings? Harry Potter ofc
37 - Do you like to air your house or room out every day to stop it getting musty? in the summer yes
38 - Have you ever visited a landmark or place made famous by a TV show or film? Did you go there because it was featured on TV? not yet but I want to
39 - Who taught you how to tie your shoe laces? parents
40 - Do you have any pets? What are they all doing at the moment? I don’t but wished I did
41 - Do you prefer sweet or savoury snacks? sweet
42 - What’s the most painful place you’ve ever had a spot? Was it a big relief when you finally managed to squeeze it? forehead spots can hurt like a bitch
43 - Talking of spots, have you ever watched videos like those by Dr Pimple Popper? Do you think that kind of stuff is cool or gross?
44 - When was the last time you attended a bonfire? literally last week, dad had a bonfire for 5th November to remember his mother
45 - Is there anything you wish you enjoyed, but you just struggle with for some reason? Maybe you hate the crowds or the noise? I wish I liked running
46 - What’s worse - someone constantly blowing their nose or someone who’s constantly sniffing? sniffing
47 - Do you have any genuine phobias? What are they and have you ever done anything to address them? nope
48 - Do you hate the feeling of being sweaty and dirty from exercise? Is this something that’s put you off working out in the past? I don’t like that it makes my hair gross and that sometimes prevents me from working out
49 - Is there anything “normal” that you have a real aversion to? Like a certain noise or smell or taste? I’m not fond of fireworks, high risk low reward imo
50 - If you’ve made plans with someone and you really don’t want to go when the time comes, do you suck it up or make an excuse? I usually don’t make plans that I don’t wanna go to, I’ll make plans that I can be excited for
51 - What’s your favourite thing to do with each of your parents? Do you get a chance to do that regularly? Used to go for lunch with my mum most weekends but that doesn’t happen anymore
52 - If you were to adopt a pet, is there anything that would put you off, like a certain colour or breed? If I was to adapt a dog it would be a golden retriever otherwise I just wouldn’t get a dog, for a cat I’m less picky, just no completely white cats and no hairless ones.
53 - Would you ever like to give circus skills a go? What would you be most interested in trying? trampolining looks like fun
54 - What are your thoughts on circuses that allow animal performances? shame shame I know your name
55 - Are there any habits or traditions you’ve picked up from your parents what you’ve carried on in your own home? I don’t have my own home yet but I’m sure I will
56 - Are there any remakes that you think are better than the originals? the shrek series and Ice series are strong contenders
57 - How about cover songs? Do you prefer any of those to the original versions? I used to only listen to the glee version of songs, it was so weird hearing the original
58 - What’s the first movie you remember seeing in the cinema? What about the last? HSM 3 when I was 9 and Pixie at 21
59 - Do you listen to more music, or watch more TV? Is this something that’s changed over the years? over lockdown I’ve been really into blasting my music but before then I deffo wated more tv
60 - Do you have any weird fears or worries? Like thinking you’ve forgotten to lock a door or blow out a candle? What do you do to reassure yourself you’ve not forgotten? whenever I go somewhere I have to triple check I’ve not left anything - it almost happened to me a couple of weeks ago with my purse and thank god I triple check because I saw it and thought that would have been hell for parallel universe me
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“Unplanned Picnic”
This fic is a first attempt at writing with someone else’s character within this universe. A quick story of @teensiest‘s Penny taunting some prey and getting a late night snack. Just a quick cw of some mild sexual descriptions and obviously blood/death that sort of thing. Hope you guys like it and remember to check out their page for more info on their version of the character. Enjoy!
When the City Council voted to construct new parking lots around the more serene parts of Derry, you would think at least one of them would foresee the local teens using them for a late night rendezvous point—especially the one that overlooked the river. It was a popular hotspot for Forth of July and Labor Day barbecues, since it provided the best sights for fireworks. Beside it, a small clearing was developed by the woods with a circular array of picnic tables and streetlamps that were set up by a stationary grill, free for anyone to use. Despite the 7pm curfew, several of those whose parents worked late shifts—or perhaps didn’t care one way or the other—would find themselves sneaking off to this area in the offseason when they knew it’d be deserted.
It was a Friday night when a couple found themselves alone at that same lot. It was the first cold night of winter, at least for Maine’s standards, and snow was due any day now to cover up the fallen leaves.
Brandon and Daisy had just shared a pizza and a couple of root beer floats together at a local, family-owned arcade where Daisy worked part-time and where Brandon was sent to chaperone his kid brother for a birthday party of one of his classmates. When the birthday boy’s mother offered to have the kids join her son at their house for more cake and a slumber party, Brandon was more than willing to agree, thinking that on the drive home to drop off Daisy, they could make a short pit-stop without the interference of his brother in the backseat.
Brandon pulled his dad’s ’82 Camaro into a cracked, graveled spot near the edge of the lot—a section that seemed half-finished compared to the rest of the smoother pavement, but it was closest to the picnic area and more well lit. With that maniac on the loose that took three of his classmates in the past eight months—depending on which rumors you heard—you never could be too careful.
The eighteen year old killed the engine and the lights, but kept the radio on a low hum to give some ambiance to their impromptu date night. They’d only been together a short while but dates over the past couple months were few and far between, so any chance he could to spend some time alone with her, he welcomed. He’d often wondered if Daisy felt the same, considering she was quiet experienced in an area that he wasn’t, unless he was in the locker room with the boys in which case, he flaunted that he had a long history with the ladies.
He’d been held back a year in grade school, and since he was technically an adult at eighteen, the lie wasn’t that farfetched. Most of the guys believed him anyway.
Neither needed words to immediately want to go in for the first kiss of the night, and Brandon’s hand was already up to cup her when her chest would inevitably push against him. But despite this, there was some hesitation on Daisy’s part and to block him, she put up her own hand to hold onto his.
“I’m thinking of trying something new,” she said in a whisper, and his eyes fixated on her soft pink lips covered in gloss.
“O-Oh?”
He tried to act surprised, but really he’d been waiting for this night to happen for a long, long time.
“Yeah.” But her voice wavered slightly—as if having second thoughts about being so bold with him. “But I’m just going to…freshen up first.”
Daisy leaned back away from him and against her door. Her blonde hair slouched where she leaned against it on the window, and with a sultry move, she opened the latch to climb out.
“Wait here, okay? I’ll be back in a second.”
Brandon watched with one hand on the wheel as she shut the door and walked around the back of the car toward the picnic tables. He waited until she disappeared behind a lock of trees before he sat back and blew out, tugging at his collar.
“Happy birthday, kid, and happy birthday to me,” he said under his breath.
Outside, Daisy walked further toward the end of the picnic area until she was out of sight of the car. She found herself soon after down a trail into a small wooded area, where she too blew out a breath she held. She ran her painted nails through her hair, pacing back and forth, trying to psych herself up for what she wanted to do.
Sex was no problem for her. Even at seventeen, she already had over four different boys under her belt—literally and figuratively—but Brandon was different. She wanted their first time to be special, and considering she had a feeling Brandon was still a virgin, she wanted to make it comfortable for him too. But was his dad’s car in a parking lot really that special? It was different than what she was used to, which was usually a bed of one of her classmates or in the shower stalls of the locker rooms at school. At least this place had a view.
Maybe she’d start out soft and see where that went. Not too soft, but something...sexy? An idea popped into her head as she slipped off her small cardigan to hang over the cook of her arm, and she then began to unbutton the peppermint-striped blouse of her uniform. It would really make her night to make him blush if she came back to the car like this. Maybe a soft slide over the hood with her breasts pressed against the windshield would do the trick. Yeah, that would really get him rolling…she giggled to herself.
“Oh, thank God. I haven’t seen a pair of tits for hours!”
Daisy’s head jerked up in the direction of the woods, the soft giggle dead on her lips. The streetlamps around her flickered slightly, but it didn’t stop her from trying to see beyond the light into the darkness. That voice...a man’s voice...it came from just past the clearing where the lights stopped glowing and there was only a void where the rest of the forest flourished.
She waited to hear for something, for anything, but there was nothing. Not a scuffle of feet against leaves, or the creaking of a picnic table. Not even a breath or a giggle from the man at what he’d said to her.
“Is someone there?” She took a step back toward the car. She didn’t want to think she was crazy, but that voice was too loud to be imagined. There was still silence, but that rough, deep voice had unsettled her down to the bone. She swallowed.
“I have a boyfriend you know! He’s here with me right now!”
Silence again. Her nerves were starting to settle but when she turned to head back, that voice boomed loud in her ear once more.
“A boyfriend! Then thank Baby Jesus, cause I haven’t seen a dick for months!”
She whirled back around and pulled her cardigan back up over her chest, frantically searching for the source of that awful sound.
“Fuck off, creep, or I’m calling the cops!”
Back to silence…Surely that must have scared him.
“Yeah...yeah, won’t be so funny when you get arrested, huh, you fucking weirdo!”
Quiet.
She smirked to herself and went to retreat back to the car. She was out of her sensual mood now, but hopefully Brandon would understand she wanted to get out of here as quick as possible after she’d tell him what happened. Maybe she would call the police...if she’d be the one to turn in that guy kidnapping and mutilating all those kids, she’d be a hero.
But when she turned around, her vision was blocked by a short, stocky silhouette that stood on top of a picnic table in her immediate way—a shadow cast over her.
Had that table always been there? No, that was impossible. It was right in the path she took to get here.
She didn’t even hear it move, or be put down, and that man...
No, wait...a clown?
xxx
Brandon had turned up the music on the radio, psyching himself up in the meantime until Daisy got back. Rock n’ Roll was a great decision. That would be a great underscore for his first…well, score.
He didn’t even hear the passenger door open again before Daisy came back and sat herself down, smiling at him with a seductive, half-lidded look. She seemed older somehow, like a girl in her late twenties in one of those Hollywood movies, or was that only because he was seeing her in a different light?
Before he could say anything, she leaned forward and stared him right in the eye as she popped off every button of her blouse with one long finger, pulling the fabric back to reveal soft skin underneath without even one goosebump on her flesh from the cold. Her pastel bra was pushed out toward him, as if inviting him to take a grab.
And in speaking of grab, she had crawled forward ever so slightly to place her other palm over the bulge of his pants.
“Oh, what, that’s it?” she teased him. “You’ve got to be joking! It feels like a dead mouse! Man, if I was you, I’d hang my folks for giving me a smell pecker like this sad excuse here. Ha! I’d be crying tears!”
“What? Daisy?” He was half insulted at what she said to him, but also concerned and worried over the fact she said it at all.
“Don’t rain on your own parade, sweet cakes. I’ve done more with less.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He sat back to get away from her.
“This is how big girls talk, Brandy. Girls like me talk a dirty game. You’d know that if you’ve ever been around one longer than the size of your dick.”
“Okay, fuck this.” He readjusted himself in the driver’s seat to reach for the keys. He was taking her home and breaking up with her the minute he dropped her off. What a—
“Bitch?” she said, a hand against her chest, as if shocked. “That’s what you call your dates? Well then, I’d better start acting like one and charging money for that kind of dirty talk.”
“Daisy, seriously, what the fuck? What’s gotten into you?”
“Into me? Girls like me are like gumball machines, Brandy. You put a little money in and I’ll put a little somethin’ out back. Isn’t that what you want?”
“No, and I’m taking you home.”
“Well, someone’s being a buzzkill. Bet I could take care of that.”
“Not tonight you aren’t.”
But as he tried to start the engine, Daisy practically crawled onto his lap and turned his head slightly to the side to kiss at his neck.
“Daisy, stop it.” He was mildly annoyed more than anything.
“I’m sorry for being such a mean girl,” she said with a pouting baby face. “I didn’t mean to hurt your fee-weeings.”
“I said cut it out!”
But she didn’t listen. Instead, Daisy’s mouth trailed around his neck as she continued to turn his head, as if wanting to reach and kiss the tip of his spine. And what he felt against his skin as soft lip balm soon mushed against his neck in globs, and he felt sticky and disgusting.
He shoved her off him and didn’t look at her when he felt the back of his neck and pulled his hand back to reveal red lipstick. Even though she wasn’t wearing any red...
He glanced up, wanting an explanation, but Daisy wasn’t there. He sat forward and looked in the backseat but it too was empty. Did she leave? He didn’t hear a door...
But something touched his knee from the passenger seat, and when he looked again, a small, frumpy clown was sitting there with him. Red hair popped out of his head in a cartoony fashion, as if he’d stuck a fork in an electric socket, and his mouth was smeared with red, as if he had been the one to kiss Brandon’s neck.
Brandon threw himself against the door in shock.
“You shouldn’t push a girl like that, Brandy,” the clown said, but what should be something low and gruff sounded more like Daisy. It was her exact tone. How was that possible? Was he hallucinating? This car was old, and the gas fumes...
“What’s wrong, Brandy?” the thing taunted. That feminine tone turned sour after each word, and his voice finally dropped several octaves to match the one he’d imagine a thing like this having. There was a flick of long eyelashes against his painted skin, and a delicate, gloved hand curled into a fist against one of his chubby cheeks. “Don’t you wuv me anymore?”
Brandon screamed and felt for the door handle behind him, and with a quick yank, pulled it open and pushed out in one fluid motion, all before toppling like a sack of potatoes onto the ground outside the car. He scampered up sit on the rear of his pants and backed away from the Camaro—his eyes entranced by that circus clown now making its way into the driver’s seat. Although this wasn’t any circus clown he’d ever see near kids—this one was something out of a nightmare—a drunken imposter out for shits and giggles.
“Why won’t you kiss me, Brandon?” he whined in a mocking cry. “Is it because I’m ugly?”
His body was frozen. Why couldn’t he move?
“Is it because I’m fat?”
And now his heart was racing, trying to make sense of this. But before long, those painted lips curled into a sneering, shit-eating grin.
“Or, is something in my teeth?”
Each corner of those cracked lips stretched further up its face, more so than what any human was capable of doing—and for a moment, Brandon thought Jim Carey would be put to shame—and the clown bared for him several rows of sharp, drooling fangs that protruded from his mouth.
That was enough to emit a horrified yell from him, and he crawled backwards, trying to get his feet to stand himself up. There was no question of fight or flight. Flight was the only message his brain could shout to him from the corners of his mind as the clown was now halfway out the frame of the door, mocking and laughing at the boy’s fear.
“C’mon, don’t be like that!” His voice was practically growling. “It’s a beautiful night out to kiss under the stars!”
Finally, Brandon could take hold of his nerves, and he rolled over onto his stomach and broke out into a run toward the main road. He could outrun that fucking thing, no problem. Those clown legs were like stumpy little sausages.
As soon as he hit the road and began to make his way toward town, thoughts were bouncing around in his head like the love handles on his hips that did so with every running stride he took.
Was this the guy killing kids and teenagers? It was possible; the dude was crazy enough. He was minding his own business, thinking about Daisy, and then he just snuck into his car! So this fucker is why there was a curfew?
And what was worse...did he get Daisy?
Headlights appeared from around the bend and in defense of his senses, he raised his hands to shield his eyes. A horn blared from the vehicle, but it wasn’t that of a car horn...it sounded more like a bicycle horn, followed by a silly carnival tune like when the clown car comes out at the circus.
Brandon’s legs instinctively curved to the right, leading him to crash into a telephone pole that knocked him down to the ground.
He coughed, feeling the wind knocked out of his back and a hot trail of something oozing down his head. He hit his head pretty hard on the base of the pole, and one swipe of his hand to illuminate in the headlights of the car would show it to be blood.
He was blinded as a car door slammed, and the soft crunch of sneakers on gravel filled his ringing ears. He sat up against the pole and tried to make out the figure, curling up into himself with a racing heart.
When the dark silhouette approached, he saw his Daisy.
“Brandon, holy shit! Are you okay?” She knelt down beside him and blocked the light with her body. He could see her a bit more clearly now—a worried expression painted on her face.
“Daisy…that fucking maniac…did you see him?”
“See who?”
“Th-the guy, th-the clown guy…” He stammered trying to find words as crazy as they sounded. “He snuck into the car…”
“Brandy,” she giggled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He looked up in to her eyes.
“Daisy…?”
She smiled in a wide grin with sharp pointed teeth. “You look like you could use something to eat.”
She got to her knees and reached behind her to bring forth a silver platter with a round, dome atop it to match. Brandon saw his reflection in the silver—frightened and bloodied and panting with sweat pouring from his temples—and when it was removed, he was face to face with Daisy’s severed head. Her eyes open, mouth ajar in fright herself, and char marks on her as if she’d been barbecued on a grill.
He cried. He couldn’t even scream as the plate and head were thrown aside, and that clown was in front of him again, those fangs bared, eyes a demonic yellow, and two strong hands reaching out to hold him still.
“Not hungry?” he threatened.
As he said this, the headlights beyond had died out, and yet in the darkness, Brandon could still see the glow coming from his eyes, as he teased him one final time before those awful rows of teeth descended onto his body.
“Well, I am.”
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Towards A Less Sexy Apocalypse Or, Do 70 Million People Shit In The Woods?
I harbor a love of post-apocalyptic writing that dates back to The Cold War, because I came of age when dad books about Soviet tanks charging through The Fulda Gap were all the rage. The current wave of post-apocalyptic books inspire a sort of rough romance amidst the fantasy of prepping, imagining riding around in your modified dune buggy with an AK gunning down the zombie hordes or the undead or whatever other monsters are out there.
But where, dear friend, do you poop?
Even Immortan Joe and his coterie of wives had to poop somewhere, and this is something we don’t often see portrayed in the literature. The truth of the matter is a lot less sexy: you’re less likely to die from the killer walking corpses than anything else out there. Millions of walking corpses shambling around and millions of dead corpses rotting create all matter of disease-ridden filth.
One good rain shower washes all that into the rivers.
You drink from the river downstream.
You die, eventually, shooting liquid from every orifice because you got cholera.
I am going to say “shit” a lot in the post, by the way.
One of the most important--but decidedly unsexy--parts of modern civilization is readily available, clean, drinkable, fluoridated water, and we do take it for granted.
A very general guideline can be 3-4 liters of water per day to stay alive, more if you’re, say, tilling the fields of your subsistence farm to try and carve out a living now that modern civilization has been destroyed by The Bomb. And consider all the other things we use water for. There’s all the cooking, the laundry, and the hygiene.
Let’s talk about hygiene for a moment: Washing your hands is a very modern idea. In fact, it was in the late 1840s that the idea occurred to doctors that hey, maybe we should wash all this blood and stuff off our hands, and it took substantially longer to catch on.
If you’ve been on a camping trip and don’t have access to a stream, you know you tend to get a little funky by the end. If you’re drinking from cantines and rainwater traps, you’re probably disinclined to waste water that could be saving your life or getting yourself through a post-apocalyptic wasteland on washing your hands, especially when they just get dirty anyway.
Ah, but perhaps your raiders will just pillage the local supermarket and get all the bottled water there.
One of the problems I have with the theory of the supermarket as survival cache is supermarkets don’t actually have that much food in them. It seems like a lot when you’re doing your weekly shopping, but you’re actually at the end of a very long chain of suppliers. Most businesses today operate using a “just in time” chain of production, where they forecast demand and then get in what they think they’ll need, then put it out where it sells so they don’t have to keep it for long.
This is where I break some bad news to you: That’s why they never seem to have it “in the back” when you ask. There’s usually not much “in the back” unless they’ve just gotten a pallet in. Usually it’s a nice excuse to hang out and make fun of you with whoever else got sent back there. Sorry.
As a child that grew up in the South, I can tell you that any weather stronger than a thunderstorm is preceded with dire warnings to BUY BREAD AND MILK. I never knew why. I don’t think anyone knows why. But you go into the supermarket and all the bread and milk is gone. Likewise, when a natural disaster like a hurricane or big storm is coming, the shelves are gone of anything tasty or even useful. Hope you like radioactive beets or those weird mixed vegetables we used to get in a grade school cafeteria.
To say nothing of the simple fact that literally everyone else is going to have the same idea of heading to the grocery store. And that’s without taking into account all the rotting perishables, themselves additional vectors of disease. If you haven’t smelled rotting chicken and spoiled milk together, I suggest you don’t. The linoleum floors are likely to be covered with the vomit of those that tried before.
And that’s not even bringing up the biggest issue of all.
Let’s talk about shitting: Where are you going to shit?
Imagine trying to find a public bathroom in any major city. A former work colleague and I used to play a game in the morning when we went to San Francisco. The game is “How far can we get before we see a pile of human shit on the sidewalk?” 3 blocks was the record.
Until recently, the public sewer was “the street when it rains” and if you lived in a modern utopia, they may have bothered to cut a ditch in the roadside so you weren’t knee deep in human filth. It’s still like that in many cities of the world and even if you have a pretense of a sewer system, the fallback if the sewer system backs up is just dumping it into the nearest body of water.
Imagine a rainstorm in a post-apocalyptic city with knee or waist-high water filled with dead bodies and all the effluences and leavings of human civilization. We already know what that looks like. It’s called Hurricane Katrina. And that’s with a FEMA and local effort to clean up the debris and chaos. What if it just hangs around?
To say nothing of finding toilet paper or, like I said above, washing your hands. And you’re not going to use precious potable water cleaning out your butthole. C’mon now. We’re among friends here.
Ah, but you’ll take to the woods, you say. Just bury it in a hole in the backyard. Perhaps you even have dreams of composting toilets in your tiny post-apocalyptic house. We can entertain that idea, certainly, and that may be a suitable solution for a small family in a remote area where a hole in the ground. But the estimated population of Europe in 1340 was close to 70 million. Can they all, dear reader, shit in the woods?
That’s not really a solution that scales. A few people can use an outhouse. But get yourself a proper raiding gang or even the beginnings of a post-apocalyptic cult, and that outhouse is going to start filling up fast. Even nutritionally deprived apocalypse survivors poop a lot, and that’s assuming you can dig a hole and bury it without hitting the water table you’re drinking from. And just a little bit of the wrong bacteria or virus in the wrong water going into your mouth means you spend what’s left of your life praying for the sweet release of death, because there’s something else we aren’t going to have.
Medicines.
It’s a New Age fantasy that all those herbs are waiting out there in the woods to be discovered and, even if they are, are you suddenly going to become an expert on herbal lore. The truth of the matter is you depend on antibiotics. Even if you’re not taking them yourself, they’re what keep that guy in the next cube that insists on coming in from coughing infectious bacteria into your face when he starts bragging about how he’s never missed a day.
Let’s not even mention vaccines because good god that is the stupidest debate of all time and isn’t even a debate.
But we can mention them for the sake of this: You step on a rusty nail in The Wasteland and you’re not getting a tetanus shot.
Okay, and we can mention them for the sake of this: All those dogs and cats that survive us (my cats hide under the bed just for the sake of doing so, they’ll survive When The Nukes Drop) won’t be getting rabies shots anymore. Or any shots, really. So add tetanus and rabies to measles, mumps, whooping cough, and everything else coming back because Kale Smoothie Junior couldn’t get a stick in his precious arm.
And then there’s the less urgent drugs: Raise your hand if there’s a drug you take every day to survive. Think of mundane things beyond even antibiotics. Heart pills. Insulin injections. Vitamin supplements. Mood stabilizers. Imagine the entire drug supply chain has gone away. Grandpa doesn’t get his heart pills, you don’t get your insulin, there’s no blood transfusions, and if a limb gets infected you get a leather strap to bite and a shot of whiskey before a carpenter cuts your leg off with a saw.
Moving beyond the obvious medical issues, let’s discuss the one addiction pretty much everyone on the planet has: Caffeine. Imagine everyone that has soda, tea, and coffee going through withdrawals at once. Sure, if you’re lucky enough to live in Kenya or Colombia, you’ll be rolling in the stuff but it’s not like any of us know what a coca leaf looks like or how to synthesize caffeine. It’s not going to be the zombies that get you. It’s going to be the red-eyed zombie that didn’t get twelve lattes yesterday and is really trigger happy as a result.
Let’s not even discuss smoking, good lord. Every smoker in the world suddenly going cold turkey. Think how pissy they are in our world. Imagine how pissy they’ll be in the Wasteland.
Now that’s the real horror show.
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