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saltofmercury · 1 year

Note

Yooohooo

Thank you for all your lovely stories, can I put in a request... Reader came home one day with huge bruise on the side of your arms ( not because someone hurt u .. because u r clumsy. I often walk into things at work hubby is shocked how many bruises i have on my legs. ) and König's reaction?

Thank you if you decided to accept :D

Pairing: König x f!reader

author's note: I wrote this but never published?

"Clumsy"

Since you were a kid, you have been labeled clumsy. Clumsy was a nice word for it but holy hell did you bump, hit, fall, and bruise the hell out of your body.

Your parents had put you in gymnastics to hopefully get you to stay still or gain some balance, but you came home with a few broken arms, a few broken wrists, and your ego shattered.

Progressing into your teen years, you had become somewhat better at your balance, but while your mind raced with a million thoughts, your body could never really keep up. Adulthood was the same, but you had always wanted to be two steps ahead in your head and your body, rushing to keep up.

When you met König, it wasn’t any better. Your first date you had dropped the water onto the table, dropped the utensils on the floor, and to make the date even more disastrous, you had even dropped some of the food you had been eating onto your shirt.

“Sorry!” You exhaled attempting to clean up the mess you made on your shirt. “I’m a bit clumsy.”

König had been relieved someone was taking the first date jitters to an extreme and it wasn’t him. He seemed enamored by it, wondering if you were really clumsy or nervous like he was.

It wasn’t until one night that you guys had been inseparable making out like teenagers on the couch that he had slowly taken off your top and had your breasts in his mouth that he realized a bruise on your arm.

He wondered if it was the way he grabbed you and pulled you into him that he was the one who left the mark.

“Oh, shit, are you okay?”

You had been mentally in the moment wondering why his mouth and hands weren’t on you.

“Yeah everything’s good, keep going.”

“No schatz, what’s this?”

He had held your arm in his hand, wrapped around it, rubbing the deep purple mark with his thumb.

“Oh! I got that at work.” You had said embarrassed that you bruised easily.

He had looked at you with concern, this bruise looked too purple, almost red, and it was placed on your arm.

“How did you get this at work?”

“I was racing inside from the rain and had bumped into the door frame while I slipped.”

He looked at you, baffled by how you said it so casually.

“You did this to yourself?”

“Mhmm” you nodded, wanting to shut him up and get his mouth on your body.

He dropped it, but König kept this in the back of his head, wondering if there was any sort of weird thing happening at work, he would not stop himself from intervening.

So the next day that he walked you to work hoping and praying that there was some asshole lurking nearby just so he could get his hands on them. Tucked under his arm under a wide umbrella, you had babbled his ear off, your fingers interlaced with his on your shoulder.

“Well I gotta send those emails out because otherwise I’ll never remind the staff, I also needed to place an order for more ink for the office, I swear we go through it so much. I also think Friday I’ll bring donuts in for the staff since they worked so hard the last two weeks pitching the ideas to our boss and —“

You had slipped, but luckily caught by him, his arm wrapped the front of your body.

“Careful” came out as an order. He had seen how careless you were crossing the street, walking into puddles. Your shoes were not rain boots, but converse high tops. Now here you were slipping right next to him. Jesus, he thought. This woman is in the clouds more than on earth.

He walked you to the door, inside of the building and sure enough, you bumped into the door frame again, with the same arm.

“Thank you for walking me!”

“I’ll be here at lunch time, so don’t order out.” He had scoped the large office, just to be sure, there wasn’t some asshole, then kissed you goodbye and walked to a cafe to get your lunch.

By the time he had come back, he saw you in motion.

You had been running around the room, talking with a colleague, then bumping into the large printer. You barely rubbed your side, eyes glowing and continued the conversation with your friend as she had reached over and double checked if you were ok.

He saw you get up to refill your bottle from the water cooler, knocking down the big plant in the office.

Holy shit, it was such a sight. You weren’t mentally on earth ever. You had visited, but remained mentally on Saturn. He adoringly watched you stumble across your own two feet. Why your parents hadn’t named you klutz was beyond him.

You saw him peering through the office, and you ran over. His eyes widened, his heart raced, standing up and going towards you hoping that you would not fall down.

“Hi! Long time no see” you said. You brought him over to the designated eating area, where he had told you to sit, seeing you bounce up and down for lunch.

As soon as you stuffed your face, he made the confession.

“So, about walking you to work…”

“Mmmm?”

“The reason I walked you to work today was because I needed to make sure nobody had any issues with you here.”

“Oh? Like what kind of issues?” You had been thinking of asking him for a bite of his food.

“The bruise I saw on your arm was so bad that I needed to make sure it was purely accidental, and not on purpose.”

“Oh! Can I have some of yours?”

He pushed the plate towards you, one eyebrow raised.

“I told you I bumped into the frame. No big deal.”

He then exhaled, laughing at you.

“But have you really seen yourself schatz? You’re the definition of clumsy.”

You looked at him, like it wasn’t a big deal. Clumsy, forgetful, uncoordinated were all in your dictionary.

“I think you need to slow down schatz. Really be in the moment sometimes. Aware of your surroundings.”

You nodded, but didn’t really listen. He could sense you weren’t listening, so he made a deal with you.

“You come to the gym with me 3x out of the week, work on your coordination, I’ll buy you that weird pumpkin pot you’ve kept mentioning every night.”

You looked at him, “Le Creuset Cast Iron Pumpkin Cocotte?”

“Whatever it’s called. That I will buy you. But please, we need to work on your coordination.”

And so, began the weekly sessions at the gym, where you focused on your environment, you focused on one thing at a time, where your thoughts weren’t racing every 5 minutes.

You also focused on him, how great he was, and how sweet he was that he took time out of his gym time to help you.

#könig one shot #könig #könig x fem reader #könig imagine #könig mw2 #könig x you #call of duty mwii

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bump1nthen1ght · 3 years

Text

I’m Still Hurting (F!Reader/M!Orc)

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: (Almost) Infidelity

Word Count: 3376 words

Summary: Your boyfriend does something he’d never thought he’d do, and you’re left to try and pick up the pieces.

Request: can I make a request? About an angst story between an m!orc and f!human. I like the idea of like maybe the orc sorta misses being with other orc women or like she can't fulfill his needs and she hears this. I like the idea of almost infidelity

A/N: Surprise bitches! I’m alive! And back with some delicious angst for y’all!! I really loved doing this request, as I don’t often write full on angst. I am also working on a fluffy request at the moment, if some of you would like some nice comfort after this haha. Hope y’all enjoy!

Honey ❤️: Babe

Honey ❤️: Babe please answer the phone I need to talk to you

Honey ❤️: I know you’re angry, you should be angry, but please talk to me

Honey ❤️: Baby please

“____? Is that my phone?” Brynn yells from the kitchen, already mixing another cocktail for you to down. Her bright red horns peek over the living room divider, bouncing back as she grabs the alcohol from the fridge. Still looking at your bright screen, you don’t even have the energy to respond.

“____?” You throw your phone away as she peaks her head over, giving her a shameful look. Brynn furrows her brow, pulling away from the kitchen island and putting one hand on her hip. “Was that him?” With your eyes darting back and forth from the pillow you shoved your phone under and Brynn’s face, you nod.

“Y-yeah, it was him.”

Brynn sighs, fiddling with her hands.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do, especially not tonight, but I just think-”

“No, no, it’s alright. You’re right, you’re right.” A jolt hits you as your phone vibrates, the vibrations rumbling through the fabric and stabbing right into your stomach. You force yourself to look away, fiddling with your fingers. Brynn shoots you a pitiful look, you’re sure of it, even as your efuse to meet her gaze. “I shouldn’t talk to him tonight. Not right now, not when I’m like….this.” A slow, tired breath escapes you. “I’ll make him wait, just like he did.”

The coach cushion bends as Brynn sits next to you, rubbing your shoulder as she leans in for a side each. You accept it, your body like a deadweight as you let yourself go slack in her arms.

“Do you want anything? Chocolate, maybe a movie? I’ve got some leftover cheesecake?”

“A movie sounds nice.” You murmur, nodding against her chest. Brynn hums, her tail coming up and massaging your lower back as she kisses you on the forward.

“Of course, your choice. Do you want me to get your drink?”

You nod once more, letting Brynn untangle herself from the hug and laying back on the couch, grabbing the comfiest blanket and the remote. You quickly flick through you and Brynn’s ‘most watched’ section on Netflix. You need something new tonight, something to get your mind off.

All your regular comfort movies are romances, after all.

By the time Brynn comes back, a rum and coke and a carton of ice cream in hand, you’re already snuggled into a blanket burrito. She hands you a spoon and the glass, which you wordlessly accept. She sits down and throws a hand over your shoulder, trying her best to massage the left over tension in your neck. You sink into the feeling, pressing on your movie of choice.

“Mad Max: Fury Road, huh? I’ve heard this movie’s great.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “It is.”

And chocked full of shitty men getting what they deserve.

As the opening title plays, the deep voice of Tom Hardy kicking the movie off, you snuggle into Brynn’s side. Your phone buzzes again, but it’s drowned out by screaming men and loud engines. Just how you like it.

Honey ❤️: Could you call me in the morning?

Honey ❤️: I’ll leave you alone for the night, I’m sorry

Honey ❤️: I love you

--------

Waruck sighs, his fingers shaking as another small ‘message delivered’ shows up on his screen. No response, just like the last 15 texts. He finds himself typing out another anyway.

I love you so fucking much

It reads, but is quickly deleted. Waruck clicks off his phone, but it stays in his hand, taunting him. The black mirror shows a sad, pathetic boyfriend, getting the silent treatment.

He falls back onto his bed, exhausted from a day of doing nothing. Nothing but worrying and feeling guilty, with the occasional flicking through TV channels and texting his girlfriend.

It’s getting late, his bedside clock cutting through the dark of his room to remind him he’s been up for almost 16 hours now. Waruck slides a hand through his hair and gets up. He’s going to have to camp out in front of the TV, because he knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Not after what he did.

--------

He had gone out with friends. Friends from highschool who he still occasionally chatted with, friends he didn’t even really like anymore. But the past two weeks had him feeling oddly...nostalgic, like something was out of place. So when his buddy Simon had invited him to the bar, he had eagerly accepted.

He remembers grabbing his coat, you sending him a text to have fun, and him not replying. He didn’t know why he didn’t respond, he still doesn’t. The two of you had been going strong for almost 8 months now, with only the occasional hiccup that most couples have. So why didn’t he respond? What made him casually throw your sweet remark to the side like that?

Waruck shakes his head, trying to focus on the movie in front of him. Now isn’t the time to get existential over tiny shit like that, not with how the rest of the night went.

When he met up with the group, Waruck immediately knew that tonight was going to be different. His current group of friends are quite different, less rowdy, than his old posse. At only 10 PM, three of the guys we’re already halfway drunk, saving a spot in line from him outside the noisy bar. The electronic music that thrummed through the concrete and out onto the street reminded him of how much time has passed, how different his usual party-scene is now, and he revels in that feeling of former good-times.

Simon greets him with a hug, the guys shouting his name as he joins them. From the corner of his eye, he sees a gaggle of girls giggling.

And that's where it started.

An orc woman, dressed in a beautiful black dress, winks as she passes him at the bar. Simon nudges his side as Waruck takes a drink.

“Dude, that chick is totally sending you the look”

Waruck furrows his brow, stirring his drink.

“What’s ‘the look’?” He says, taking another sip of his scotch.

Simon rolls his eyes. “The ‘come hit on me’ look dude! That’s the sign you need to go for it!”

“I have a girlfriend, Simon.”

Simon scoffs, throwing his hand out dramatically. “What, that human chick?”

Waruck has half of mind to set down his drink and ask Simon what he means with that sarcastic tone of voice. It pisses him off, but he says nothing, just rolls his eyes.

“No offense, bro, she looks cute and all. But is she really worth missing out on some great ass?”

Waruck grimaces and shoots Simon a dirty look. “Jesus, Simon, are you serious?”

“I’m serious! When was the last time you had fun, y’know? Everyone knows an orc chick can throw down, wild-style.” Simon nudges him in his side, playfully, but it only serves to make Waruck more annoyed. “C’mon, you seriously don’t miss it?”

Waruck should tell him a firm ‘No’, finish his drink, and leave. He should call a cab and go home, call you and rant about his gross misogynistic friend from high school.

But he doesn’t.

The part of him, the part of him that feels slightly off, wonders if this is it. It had been a long time since he had been with another orc. You were a great girlfriend, but so different from in so many ways. Is that it?

Maybe relieving the old days will satisfy whatever longing he has, and then it will leave forever. Would that be so bad, to let loose for one night?

Waruck feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns to see the orc girl from earlier; The one who sent him ‘the look’.

“Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink?”

Between the boosted bass of the music and the orc woman pressing up against him, Waruck doesn’t notice Simon slip away, giving him a pat on the back.

Leave, say no, tell her she’s got the wrong guy, you fucking idiot. His consciousness yells.

“U-uh, sure.” He stutters.

She introduces herself as Naz and says she noticed him the minute he walked in.

“Hard not to notice the best-dressed guy in the room.” She flirts, pressing herself closer and up against him.

He has a thousand little moments like that, to say something; To pull back and apologize, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he slips into a corner booth with her, purposely ignoring the texts you send to check up on him. You had remembered that he wasn’t sure how much fun this night would be, and routinely checked in if he needed a convenient excuse to leave early. You’re sweet like that.

Naz is sweet too. She's a great conversationalist, with a good head on her shoulders and an interesting career in zoology. Waruck could see the two of you being good friends.

Is that why she seems so alluring? Because she’s so similar to you? Waruck’s mind does mental gymnastics to try and justify his hesitance, his compliance in believing that maybe she has something different after all, even though he knows that isn’t true.

The two of them talk for a solid hour and a half, Naz slowly inching herself closer and putting a hand on his knee. His body screams in resistance, his stomach tying up into knots, but he doesn’t push her away.

“So, I’ve got a room not too far from here. What do you say we go make ourselves a bit more comfortable?”

This is his final chance to find an excuse and say goodnight. To run back home and forget this ever happened. But the words are caught in his throat and he’s further silenced by the nearby whooping of his asshole friends.

“Yeah, Waruck! Get some!”

Naz chuckles and mistakenly reads his seething anger at himself with embarrassment for his friends. She leans in, grabbing his jaw, and whispers.

“Let's give them a show, huh?” Then, she kisses him.

The noises of the bar, his friends, and Naz all drown away as her lips mold into his. Waruck’s body goes rigid, terrified as time seems to freeze as he kisses someone who is not his girlfriend.

But all of that stops when your ringtone begins to blast in his pocket. It should be near silent when compared to the pounding bar music, but that familiar jingle seems to cut deep into his skin and skewer his heart. Waruck pulls away with a quick jerk, Naz almost falling over as he pushes himself into his seat and away from her body-heat. Every nerve is a light with tension as he quickly pulls out his phone.

There on the screen is a picture of you, your contact name, “Sweetie❤️”, shining through the dimmed light of that bar. Waruck breathes heavily, feeling like he’s just run an emotional marathon, stuck in his own head until Naz slides away from him.

“Wait, hold on, do you have a girlfriend?”

Waruck looks at her, then looks at his still-ringing phone, then back to Naz. He nods.

Naz's face curls up into obvious disgust, quickly directing her body to be as far away from him as possible. “Fucking hell, dude. What the fuck?” She grabs her handbag and stomps out of the booth, not before throwing her drink in his face and telling him to go to hell.

He almost watches her move across the bar, most likely to go complain to her friends about the asshole she just wasted the last 2 hours chatting up, but all he can focus on is your picture on his phone.

--------

Waruck practically runs out of the bar, his whole body covered in sweat and his mind racing a mile a minute.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He felt like a 15 year old, goaded into another shitty prank just because he wanted to look cool in front of his friends, buying into their weird bullshit about humans. Was he seriously going to throw away your wonderful relationship over one night, over one urge?

Naz had been strikingly beautiful, in all the ways he was taught an orc like himself should look for. She could probably get any guy in that club tonight, but she wasn’t you. You’re different, but in so many cool, inconsequential, uniquely-you ways.

Waruck doesn’t know how long he walks before he sits down outside a cafe, trying to collect his racing emotions. He feels gross, sticky with the kind of sweat you only get after too much alcohol and too many people. The screen of his phone seems to reflect every smudge and finger-print as he swipes it to unlock it, finally getting the courage to read your text messages.

They start off normal, spread out over several hours. The occasional “How are the guys?” and “Hope you are having fun! Just let me know when you get home safe.” before dropping off into nothing. Right up until 20 minutes ago, where you send a short and curt text that has his heart dropping to his stomach.

Sweetie❤️: Can you call me right now?

Sweetie❤️: Waruck, I need to talk to you

Sweetie❤️: Are you still at the bar?

After that is a notification of your missed call from earlier and Waruck can’t help but feel guilt stir in his gut.

It could be nothing, something unrelated to what he almost did tonight. But the notification he gets from his Instagram says otherwise. It says a mutual of his tagged him in a photo 30 minutes ago.

Waruck feels like vomiting when he opens up Simon’s story and sees a shaky picture of Naz, draped over him in the corner booth, with him looking all too happy to have her there. The caption reads

“At least someone’s getting lucky tonight 🤣🤣 #BoysNight20XX”

But what comes next is even worse; An even blurrier photo of Naz kissing him, both of their eyes closed as she almost sits in his lap.

Waruck can’t even look at the caption, quickly exiting out of the app and calling you.

He needs to explain himself.

But what will he say?

The phone rings, rings, rings….

Waruck waits with bated breath, thinking you’re going to let it go to voicemail, but you answer. There is no cheerful “Hi Babe” or even a tired and drawn-out “Hey.” Instead all Waruck hears is a shaky sigh, waiting for an explanation.

The words stay caught in Warucks throat, trying to find a way to maneuver and swing around to a solid excuse, a lie he hopes you won’t catch.

But he can’t, he can’t. Not to you.

So you make it easy for him, like you always do, and start the conversation off instead.

“Were you flirting with that girl?”

Waruck’s mind doesn’t give him a choice, the truth already spilling out like a tidal wave.

“Yes.”

Waruck hears you suck in a breath, before you shakily ask once more,

“Did you kiss her? Did you kiss her back?”

“Yes.”

There's 15 seconds of brutal silence as Waruck sits with his confession. In the moment, Waruck feels like he can hear your pounding heartbeat through the receiver.

You hang up.

---------

You hate the weather outside for two reasons.

One: You had far too much rum last night to enjoy any amount of sunlight. And,

Two: On a terrible morning like this one, it feels unfair that there aren't any dramatic thunder storms.

The bell rings on the cafe door as you walk in, causing you to wince as you pull down your sunglasses.

Thank god for the low lighting of these cafes.

You rub your brow, eyes scanning the menu above the bar. Some caffeine should do you good, at least with your headache.

But when you spot him, tucked away at a table, tapping his foot, all that aching pain seems to fall to your subconscious. Before you can meet eyes, you look away, forcing yourself to re-read the menu and blink away your tears.

You face the inevitable when you put in your order, turning to walk towards Waruck. He’s locked his gaze into the wood grain of the table, his large body hunched up and small, like he wants to sink into the shadows. He looks like shit, with large bags under his eyes and a nervous tension in his face.

He startles when you pull out a chair, sitting down across from him, but quickly curls back into his ball of shame. He looks so guilty, a small part of you wants to comfort him and tell him it’ll be alright.

You punch away that part of you with a baseball bat.

“Why did you flirt with her?”

Waruck says nothing. He looks at you with his tired eyes, big and racked with guilt.

I don’t know. They whisper.

Your fingers dig into your jeans, anger boiling up and through your nerves.

That’s not a good enough answer.

“Were you,” You suck in a breath, trying to control your volume, “Were you going to sleep with her? If I hadn’t called you, would you have-”

“No!” Waruck nearly shouts, shaking the table as his knees bang against the bottom, but he recoils once he sees the way you flinch. “No, I wasn’t going to.”

Those pesky tears press against your eyelids once more. You can feel your nails digging indents into your thighs.

“I don’t know if I can believe that.” You whisper, failing to catch the crack in your voice.

Waruck’s brow furrows as he nervously chews his bottom lip. He tries to meet your gaze, but you seem to look right through him.

“I know.” Waruck sighs, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

There's a tenuous silence; Waruck tries to find the words to fix things while you focus on the details of the cafe walls, examining every nook and cranny as you try not to sob.

“I-I understand if you don’t trust me. I understand if you hate me, or you want to break up. But please, please know that I love you, and that I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve been kicking myself over flirting with that girl because I love you so fucking much. I-”

You hold up your hand, stopping Waruck in his tracks. He realizes how loud he’s been talking and that people are beginning to stare. He huddles back into his corner, tucking his hands into his lap. You let out a long breath. Waruck takes the risk and looks up.

When his eyes finally meet yours, he realizes just how sad you look. A treacherous tear has begun falling down your cheek, sending a lightning bolt of remorse into Waruck’s chest.

You take in another deep breath, wiping away the tear with the back of your hand. You look at Waruck, exhausted.

“I don’t,” You falter, but catch yourself, “I don’t want to break up with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you yet.”

Waruck nods, fiddling with his fingers.

“Of course, I get it-”

“I’m not done.” Waruck quickly shuts his mouth. “You hurt me, Waruck. Hurt me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever forget. So I need time. Time before I can even see you again without thinking,” You hiccup, but this time you let the wave of emotion hit you, full force. “Without thinking about that night.”

A lady calls out your order, but neither of you makes a move. You sit in each other's presence, trying to wrap yourselves around the mess of emotions, trying to read the others mind without seeming too obvious.

You both sit here, in the presence of something that's been broken, damaged in a way that’s cut the heart of your chest and slams them on the table. There’s a crack that runs down between you two, inching open more and more with each breath.

But somehow, somehow, you both think you have a chance of fixing it.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #female reader #monster romance #orc x reader #angst #orc

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itacats · 3 years

Text

Summary: 8 months ago all you wanted was a baby. Now? All you want is sleep.

Character(s): ProHero!Bakugo; f!Reader

Word Count: 1.05k

Warnings: crack-ish writing, cursing, pregnancy, mentions of crying and internal bruising, general pregnancy angst(?), like-2 lines of mild sexual suggestion, use of the nickname Katsu (just in case)

A/N: baby fever hit hard today and this is how I let out both my lack of sleep from last night and todays sight of baby in a Bakugo outfit. Also this isn’t super proof read since I typed this up during my lunch, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless lovelies!

When you had seen that baby in the convenience store wearing the Ground Zero onesie 8 months ago, you hadn’t expected the baby fever to hit you as hard as it had. You also weren’t expecting how willing your pro hero husband Bakugo Katuski would have been to help you out with your newfound predicament either, you should have known better though. Now here you were with what felt like a future gymnast backflipping against your ribs as your sleeping husband did to villains during his hero work. God, it felt like the kid inside you was on a mission to leave at least one bruise on all of your organs tonight. You hadn’t been able to get a solid hour of sleep with all of the commotion going on inside of you and you were reaching a breaking point.

You brought a hand to soothingly rub your swollen belly. “Please, just…stop. Let me sleep….just for a little bit. Please.” All you wanted was sleep. At least two or three hours. Letting out a disgruntled huff, you unceremoniously turned onto your other side- facing Katsuki. Some of the moonlight that pooled around the room fell against his face, illuminating some of the small scars from past battles and wrinkles from scowling at press and villains alike. You stared at him, a wave of peace washing over you like it had every other time you took in his features. These were the times he didn’t look angry or on-edge. He looked- relaxed, as if there wasn’t anything to worry about. You enjoyed the quiet moments like these, ones where you were able to study his softer features. The ones he tried so hard to suppress and hide from the world. Raising your free hand, you began to delicately trace over his sculpted face. Midway down his cheekbone, the brat inside you decided to deliver a rather harsh kick to one of your many already bruised organs, causing you to recoil your hand with a hiss. Giving up on the concept of sleep, you slowly sit up.

“I know ‘m hot, but ‘m not that hot babe.” You hear a sleepy blond groggily slur. “Why’re ya still up?” He says, the sleepy haze clearing as his signature scowl began to creep its way onto his face. Katsuki was never one to like missing out on his sleep, which was one of the few reasons you were surprised he was onboard with-in his words- “putting a brat or two in ya.” “It’s nothing Katsu, go back to bed love.” You half heartedly smile, if that was even possible with how tired you were. “Don’t lie to me shitty woman- I can see the bags under your eyes. Prada called and they’re thinking about suing.”

A sluggish, but sharp slap to his toned chest causes a loose chuckle to escape him as he joins you in sitting up. “Seriously though Y/N, what’s going on?” His hand reaches for yours, engulfing it in warmth. Red eyes soften as they take in your disheveled and sleep-deprived form, strands of hair that defy gravity only visible in the light of the alarm clock on your bedside table. “Our kid decided to try some of your ‘plus ultra’ backflips around nine o’clock and hasn’t stopped…” pausing, the lack of sleep and rising emotions causing tears to well up in your eyes the more you think about it. “I just want- I just want them to stop kicking me every 7 minutes so I can sleep!” a choked back sob escapes you as you finish your sentence. You were tired, sore, and downright cranky at this point- and Katsuki could tell. He carefully wrapped his arms around you, mindful of your belly. “Y/N, don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” He muffled into the top of your head, softly peppering kisses here and there.

“I could-“ He stops, almost as if he’s mentally preparing himself for what he’s about to say next. “I…could…sing them a lullaby?” It seems more of a question for himself rather than for you. “You’d do that for me?” You say, pulling away looking up to him with tired and teary eyes. “Tch, of course I would. I would do anything for you. You and the brat” Pressing a soft kiss to your temple, a calloused hand making its way to replace the one you currently had on your restless belly. “Jesus, kid. Give your mom a break.” Realizing just how rough the brat was being on you.

Moving you so you were seated in front of him in a comfortable manner to where if you fell asleep on his chest you wouldn’t feel completely stiff and sore the next morning. His hands automatically gravitate to your stomach. One closer to your chest while you snuggle your head into his chest while the other resumes rubbing soothing circles. “Thank you Katsu.” It comes out more as a hushed whisper of anticipation, like a child about to listen to their favourite song. Despite everything going on, you couldn’t help it- hearing Katsuki sing or hum was a sight not many (including yourself) got to witness, but when they did it was like hearing beauty incarnate for the first time.

When Kastuki sang to and for you, it was as if you were hearing the raw emotion of love itself flow through the air and into your soul. He didn’t respond out loud, just with a simple kiss to the top of your head once more before he began to hum. You could feel the low timbre of his voice as your head lay against his chest. This combined with the every loving movement of his circling hand brought not only you, but also your restless child closer to sleep. Not before they got one last kick in. “Oh, fuck you too kid.” You softly mumble, earning another quiet chuckle from your husband, interrupting his humming. “You can’t make me laugh while I’m humming you to sleep.” He picks his humming back up, giving you soft, loving kisses every now and then just to show you how much you mean to him. To show you that he’ll always be there for you. And with that you drift off knowing you couldn’t ask for a better family.

#this totally wasn’t just for self indulgent purposes #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x you #bnha #mha #BT extra

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zankivich · 4 years

Text

An Unexpected Romance: Chris Evans x Black! Female Reader Part 1

a/n: *sticks head out* omg hi. It’s been a while. A long while. Somehow I am back writing for another white man, a different one this time. We can only hope he does not disappoint as drastically as the last one does. I genuinely have no idea if this is good? I think it’s kinda cute, and I’ve been feeling very traumatized in regards to blackness lately so I really needed some black and brown women having a good time and being happy. We deserve that tbh. There could obvi be another part to this. Let me know if anyone even cares enough for that lol. Okay bye now.

Part 2 Part 3

There’s an unspoken rule amongst you and your friends. Like a secret code, if you will. If a man hits on you at the bar and you’re not interested, and friends always know when you’re not interested, swarm and diffuse the situation. But? If a man hits on you at the bar and you are interested? Then that is a different story entirely.

It was a Thursday night out with the girls. You were at your favorite bar. It was quiet and quaint but still modern enough to attract a younger crowd. Sometimes there’s nothing better than getting dressed up and sipping on drinks with your girls. No dancing or club hopping or excessive uber rides. Just one bar, shit talk, and a lot of bacardi.

You were all sat directly at the bar in high standing chairs, Your back was turned to the entrance as you listened intently to your friend Tanya complain about her latest Hinge hook up.

“Can you believe I took my fine ass self all the way over to that nigga’s house in satin shorts? Satin! And he had a pizza box on his bedside table and the second he laid me down my back hit a bong. Make it make sense Jesus.”

Tanya was a beautiful Black woman. She was taller than all of you at six feet, and she strutted every step. Her skin was deep espresso and she was almost always rocking a vibrant colored wig that matched a vibrant colored outfit. Tonight’s color was lavender.

“I don’t know how many times we have to tell ya ass to stay away from them white boys.” You snorted, sticking your tongue out in search of your straw.

Your friends, Tanya, Raya, and Jesse all did a collective eye roll in your direction that did not go unnoticed.

“Yes ladies?” You asked with a straightened spine and arched brow.

Jesse was one of them girls you would have hated in high school. Skinny waist, slim thick thighs, and skin so clear that her Puertio Rican skin was only left to dazzle and shine. She had long, tight curls that hung all the way down to her belly button, and she always kept them gelled down and tied back. She, like all of your friends, did not hold back when it came to the group. You were honest, thick as thieves, and frankly a little brutal.

“You don’t even count. Your refusal to go near a white man is excessive and weird.” She cackled. “You're just as bad as Tanya, just on the other end of the spectrum sis.”

“Excuse me? Now Tanya dates boys...I date men. You see the difference? And if I am gone lie in some ivory sheets there’s gonna have to be some extra special attention being paid to me. And trust, there always is.”

You stuck your tongue out lewdly and laughed sending the whole table into a fit of giggles. You all clinked your glasses together and revelled in the atmosphere of melanin, acceptance, and tomfoolery. What a group.

“You tellin’ me that if a fine ass man walked in here right now and checked every box: his own money, his own car, intelligent, funny, etcetera, and he just happened to be of the vanilla variety you wouldn’t bite?” Raya asked.

Raya was the thickest of the group, voluptuous in every sense of the word and also the only one happily married. She just put up with y’all honestly.

You rolled your eyes through with the conversation already.

“I’m saying...he’d have to be pretty fucking special and pretty fucking dedicated. Men are a headache as it is. I don’t need the added layer of some man pulling at my weave like I’m Lilly Ane from his hometown, or asking me to do race play in the bedroom. Now I’m going to the bathroom and when I come back I’d like for us to talk about literally anything else? Okay? Okay.”

You slid out of your seat and headed for the bathroom with the grace and power of a woman in her thirties who had managed the insecurities of her younger self and had decided to only live her life revelling in her own excellence.

If Tayna was the darkest of the group you weren't at all far behind. If she was expresso, you were simply an americano with a dash of cream. And you rocked it with a full head of curls that ranged from nappy to bursting with life and moisture depending on both the day and temperature. It was all set upon the shoulders of a woman with curves and hips and chest. It was your body and you loved it endlessly, a matter quite evident in the way you walked.

That night you were wearing a coral pink jumpsuit with a long, flowy kimono and heels to match. Your kimono billowed behind you and made you feel fierce, even on the walk to the bathroom, which is perhaps why you weren’t paying that much attention. One second you’re strutting in the heels that you only wore when there wouldn’t be too much standing, and the next you’re slipping on some liquid that must have been spilt on the floor. Your whole life flashed before your eyes. The wind flew out of your lungs. This was the end…

And then you were caught by the waist. Not caught, more like gripped. Firmly. And perhaps not the waist so much as the hips. You expected to be lying straight on the floor staring up at the ceiling, and instead you were staring at a chest. A firm chest. No not firm. Chiseled might be a better description. So chiseled that your hands began to wander amongst the suit clad flesh before your mind had caught up with you. Heafer.

“Oh my god. Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I can’t believe I--”

You peered up into deep blue eyes and let’s not forget that your fingers were still wandering along that chest. Had a chest ever been so broad? No. Not unless you count Captain America apparently.

“Please, I always like to pull a rescue mission before dinner. Makes me feel like I earned my meal.” He grinned down at you.

Chris Evans. What are even the statistical chances? You wouldn’t know, you were too busy drooling.

His hands were still on your hips. Yours still on his chest. And now you were just plain staring at him. Good look.

A waiter with a towel to clean up the mess broke up the moment by clearing their throat and alerting the two of you that you were way too close to one another still.

“Oh--Oh.” You mumbled idiotically. “You’re…”

He nodded. “Chris. And you are?”

“I’m...I’m…”

The waiter snickered under their breath and you realized just how much you were ruining this moment. You straightened your spine and tried to act like you had some sort of sense.

“I’m y/n. Thank you again for the save. I was actually just on my way to the bathroom so I’ll uh let you get back to your night and try not to fall on you again.” You smiled.

“Yea, we definitely wouldn’t want that would we?” He asked.

But the way his face was looking told you maybe he might not mind it after all. Sheesh.

“Okay well uh you have a nice night, Chris.”

You tapped at his hands on your hips and he quickly stumbled back with an apology. It was the first time he looked even the slightest bit flustered in your interaction with him. You found that you liked it.

“You have a nice night too, y/n.”

You smiled at him one final time before walking to the bathroom as you had intended. But he didn't leave your mind the entire time you were there. And not just because it was Chris Evans, it didn’t feel fair to call it star struck. That was too simple, too miniscule. Instead it was the way his hands had felt on your hips. You had the tendency to lean away from men, didn’t feel comfortable with them when you didn't know who they were. And yet there you had stood, completely at ease in his hold. You couldn’t explain it even to yourself. He had just felt right.

“Of course he felt right, he’s practically a figment of your imagination.” You mumbled to yourself at the sinks.

That was it. He didn’t even count. The only time you ever saw him was on your netflix account, so surely your perception was warped. The reality was that Chris Evans was just another white man who looked good in a sweater. The end.

That’s what you convinced yourself as you walked back to your friend, but not without taking extra precautions against the floor. By the time you arrived back at your table you had done the mental gymnastics needed to completely eliminate him from your system. Good girl.

“Now, I trust you all found something better to talk about while I was away.” You grinned as you slid back into the table.

All of your friends were snickering behind their hands and they wasted no time at all laughing at you.

“Oh did we!” Jesse laughed. “You see we had just moved on to a new topic when a little someone got a drink delivered to the table.”

Your eyes widened as Jesse pushed a glass of what looked like processo closer your way. She then pointed over by the bar leading the entire table to turn that way. Seated by his seat with his arms leaning against the bar, shoulders even broader against the wood, was none other than Chris Evans himself. As if on a Hollywood cue he turned to look at you with a smile that was both innocent and filthy at the same time. He lifted a drink of his own in the air and tilted it in your direction in silent cheers. If you had been ten shades lighter you’da blushed like a schoolgirl. It was ridiculous.

“Now...What was that you were saying about white boys sis?” Tanya asked.

You groaned to yourself softly and plopped your head down in your hands in embarrassment. This was only to notice that your sparkling glass of prosecco was perched upon a napkin with his phone number written upon it. Home boy was slick and he was bold. A man confident enough to come put himself out there, and respectful enough to do it in a way that wasn’t disruptive or rude to your friends nor yourself. It was the sort of thing that made you take notice for sure, which explained why your girlfriends were looking at you like cats that had just discovered the canary.

“What? What?! What?” You gasped at the table, clearly annoyed.

Jesse grinned. “What’chu mean ‘what’, mija! You gone get your mans or what?”

They all giggled and looked clearly in his direction, only embarrassing you further.

“Stop it!” You hissed. “He is not ‘my mans’ by any stretch of the imagination. He probably just feels bad for me slipping. I fell and he caught me. Clearly he’s a gentleman, which is nice but that don’t mean nothin.”

“Girl please! This man done sent you prosecco and a phone number. That’s like a rich modern version of a love letter. You better go talk to that man.” Raya snorted.

Women who hype up other women are the world’s greatest treasure. You loved your friends with everything in you, and you valued all of their intellects greatly. However, this was not a regular-degular man. This was literally a superhero. You had confidence for days, but this was simply a different stratosphere. You were just about to silence your friends again when a ghost must have descended because everyone else began to gasp.

“Girl he movin’. Captain America is comin in for the landing.” Raya stage-whispered.

“Oooo you know what? Suddenly I have to pee.” Tanya mumbled.

“Oh me too!” Jesse nodded.

And just like that….your table was empty. The audacity!

“Wow. I sure can clear a room huh?” He chuckled, stepping up beside you. “I hope I don’t offend too much.”

You sighed turning to face him head on.

“You certainly do not offend. In fact, I think my friends are around some corner cackling like the witches they are. They just wanted to give you space to shoot your shot.”

He smiled with a raised eyebrow. “My shot, huh? I better not fuck it up them.”

You shrugged, eyes raking gently over him. Beyond the obvious attraction, it was important for you to search for any warning signs. His body language was good. He had one hand draped over the back of your chair, but he stood two steps back from the table so that he wasn’t over-crowding your space. He seemed to be aware of himself physically, an important marker in your estimation. He was playful enough, but also clearly interested if he’d decided to come up to the table after all that. This did not bode well for you at all. The man was kinda nice.

“I just wanted to see if you were enjoying your drink is all.”

Your fingers flitted with the glass before pulling it to your lips for a sip. The way his eyes seemed to follow the motion had a heat pooling in your gut.

“I do enjoy a good prosecco.” You nodded. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure. I didn’t want to be too forward but uh--I think you’re stunning and I was wondering if I could take you out sometime.” He murmured.

Your legs were crossed in your seat, and you bobbed your leg a little, anxiety coursing through you.

“Were you afraid the number on the napkin was too subtle?”

He chuckled softly, eyes falling to the ground in an almost...embarrassed fashion? Lord, please.

“Sorry, I tend to second guess myself. I never know how people are gonna take me with my line of work. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to set up a one night stand or something. Wanted to show you I’m genuinely interested.”

Well that was unnervingly wholesome. Where they get this man from?

You let a small grin form across your mouth, a metaphorical step forward closer to his very inviting energy.

“Well, I do like the sound of stunning.”

“Yea? I think I could say some other stuff you’d like too if you give me a chance. What do you say?”

He licked the edge of his lip and it really was so miniscule but it had your thighs tightening in a way that was unholy. Rude.

You couldn’t say yes just off principle. Ten minutes ago you had just shamed all your friends for their white proclivities and the first one that walks off the street and bats his eyelashes at you causes you to cave? The hypocrisy! But...he was fine. Like capital “F” fine. Fwine with a “w”, fine. And it’s not like he was going to take you home to pizza boxes and lost bongs and then hit you up for gas money later. He was more set in his life than you were. Him being rich wasn’t even for you to utilize; it just felt good to know that he was accomplished and secure for himself. Again you dated men...not boys. And yet still you found yourself in such a conundrum.

“You look hesitant.” He noted, eyes locking onto yours.

You nodded. “I am...Excuse my bluntness but I had just gotten done explaining to my friends that dating white men often comes with more hassle than good. It can be difficult to connect cross-culturally. And quite frankly y’all are usually racist and/or fetishists. I’m not looking to upset your mama, nor am I looking to play slave master in the bedroom.”

Honestly the little speech was usually enough to send weaker men running. You say the r-word to a white man when you’re a black woman and he either calls you the n-word or gets upset and walks away. That had been your experience thus far. Not always, but enough to set precedence. The fact that he bothered to stay at the table further already separates himself from the pack.

“I can understand where you’re coming from.” He nodded, and a crease formed subtly between his eyebrows. “Not that I could ever really understand, just that I understand your hesitancy towards me. And I understand that it’s more complicated for you than it is for me. I really wish it wasn’t that way, but obviously that isn’t exactly something you and I can fix together in this very moment.”

You steadied for yourself for his next words, sure that he was about to leave you with, “have a nice life, I’ve got a spandex fitting in the morning.” There was a feeling in your tummy that felt out of place. You noted absently that it was a flutter of disappointment. And then he kept speaking.

“I don’t want to change your opinions on all white guys. I’d be willing to wager that most of us suck, and you probably should definitely steer clear.”

This caused you to snicker a little bit, a smile coming back to your face. He practically beamed in response, teeth coming together in a megawatt smile.

“However, I’d truly hate to never see that smile again.” He groaned and layed a firm hand against his own chest. “I don’t wanna change your mind about all of us...but maybe I can change your mind about me. I don’t want to feshitize you, I don’t want some weird power play between us. I don’t wanna do anything that would hurt you or make you uncomfortable. I just wanna take a really beautiful woman out if I could, if you’ll have me? Please? And if not, I take no as my answer and I walk away a little wounded, and you’ll still be here, stunning as always.”

Ooof. Boy was good. Real good.

You twisted your lips together and eyed him another time as if you were seeing each other for the very first time. Seemingly good guy. Persistent, not demanding. Willing to have conversations about race? Biceps the size of your head. Damn it was like the devil had crafted him especially for you.

“You know I think my friends have been spying long enough. I should probably meet up with them.” You mumbled.

You reached for the check in front of you adding your tip to your total and squaring out your tab. The way his eyes raked over you did not go unnoticed, unfelt. With the check closed and on the table you reached for one of the cocktail napkins on the table, pen still in hand, and wrote a note of your own. Sliding from your seat, you reached for the prosecco and downed the fizzy beverage before pressing the napkin to his chest with your nail. There was confusion, and perhaps a bit of hurt, in his baby blue eyes. This was gonna be some real trouble for you.

His palm came to rest over yours, trapping your fingers against his chest. There was a warmth there that seemed to leave your fingertips tingling. Definitely trouble.

“You have a nice night Chris.” You grinned.

His hand fell away from yours at the slightest movement on your part. He stood there, seemingly shell shocked, as you reached for your purse and his cocktail napkin. You almost thought he was going to let you get away as you went to step around him, only for his palm to grab gently at your hip.

“Good night y/n.” He whispered and reached to kiss chastly at your cheek.

The warmth of him was more intoxicating up close. He radiated heat like he radiated pheromones. And the smell of him was absolutely ridiculous as well. Was that gucci? Dior maybe?

It was a miracle you made it around the corner.

As to be expected, your awful ass group of friends were all standing by the hostess booth peaking around at you like a couple of dumbasses. They were lucky you loved em. You had an exit to execute though, and for that at least, they were useful.

You resumed your power walk, matched with clicking heels and a teasing pop of your hips, towards them.

“Is he watching?” You asked quietly.

They all nodded in various levels of incredulousness.

“Good. Let’s go.”

And then you walked your ass out that bar only to collapse the first second you cleared the doors. Your girls descended the way only women do, like fucking superheros of their own, and helped you float back to the car.

“Girl if you don’t start spilling A-S-A-P I swear fo’ God!” Raya gasped hands shaking on the steering wheel.

“What happened what happened what happened?!” Jesse screeched.

Your head nestled against the headrest of the car, your breathing having gone unsteady by the little game you’d just played.

“I think I just told him he can take my black ass on a date.” You mumbled in shock.

The tension in the car hit an all time high as everyone went silent...And then they all bursted out laughing as if you’d mentioned the funniest joke in the damn world.

“I KNEW IT BITCH!” Tayna screamed. “OOOOOOO BITCH I KNEW IT!”

“She finna be down with the swirl tonight, y’all!” Raya cackled.

“In the category of white boys y/n will fuck with, this one has a networth of millions and the highest grossing movie of all time.” Jesse spoke in her best game host voice.

“I’ll take Captain America for six hundred, Alex!” Tayna snickered.

And they all continued to laugh.

“I gotta get some new friends.”

TBC?

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fandom #chris evans fluff #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x black ofc #chris evans x black woman #chris evans one shot #chris evans blurb #chris evans and reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans writing #chris evans story #chris evans series #alex writes again #maybe

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imaginetings · 4 years

Text

if you love me don’t let go - eggsy unwin

Y/N - Your Name

M/N - Middle Name

L/N - Last Name

M/O - McDonalds Order

Word Count - 2471

Requested? - Nope

Warnings? - Swearing, mention of dying and injury, flashbacks that may get you in feels

Notes - I’m in my feels okay :( also it’s formatted more space for paragraphs and i canny be bothered to fix it sorry. also would you guys want a second part of this in eggsy’s pov??

part two

When they say you’re meant to see important parts of your life flash through your head before you die, they weren’t wrong. Yet after all that I’ve done there is one common denominator in these flashes, Eggsy. The man that has held a significant part of my heart for most of my life ever since we met in infants and he had that glimmer of hope in his eyes, we were the terrible twosome as Michelle loved to call us.

I never believed this would be the way I would go, alone in an alleyway, bleeding out because of a mugger or possible enemy of Kingsman. The details I didn’t care for, all apart from the fact that I didn’t have Eggsy with me.

Yet with the strength I have left, I reach for my phone and whilst my initial thought was to call Eggsy I know that if I am to get out of here alive, it’ll have to be the emergency services. After all, Eggsy is probably out with someone who’s most definitely not me. Best friends, that’s all we’ve ever been yet I love him more than that and I guess he’ll never reciprocate because it’s just plain old me.

Smearing blood on the phone screen as I typed in the one digit thrice I could only feel myself start to grow weaker as the time flew by. I can assure you that although time is flying, i’m not having fun.

“Hello, Emergency Service Operator speaking, which service do you require?”

“erm, the one with the ambulance thing. Yeah that’s it, ambulance please,” I ask and the operator who connects me instantly “Hello? I’m currently in an alleyway on Chiswick High Road and I was attacked and I’m bleeding really badly and I think they might have shot me, I don’t know it happened so fast and I just need help please,” I explain swiftly to the operator who keeps a calm tone.

“Okay miss can you stay on the phone? There’s an ambulance heading your way now. Can you stay on the line as I ask you questions?” The operator asks.

“I can try, but things are getting fuzzy.” I explain.

“Okay, so what’s your name miss”

“Y/N M/N L/N”

“What’s your age?”

“Oh erm what year is it again? Oh yeah 2015, so I am 23” I figure out.

“Okay miss, now what’s your blood type?”

“Red? I don’t know for the life of me Jesus Christ this is bad, i’m sorry,” I say to the operator as things start to fade in and out and I try to fight it, I really do yet black spots cover my vision and as I feel myself start to fall the last things I can hear is the operator on my phone asking me to stay awake.

——

“Okay class settle down today we are going to be doing work with partners so buddy up!” The teacher explains and I look around to see everyone buddy up with their best friends whilst i’m on my own. “Y/N, come here. Now you’re going to pair up with Gary okay?” I nod and we sit down at his table.

“My names not Gary, it’s Eggsy. It’s such a cooler name than Gary,” Gary, no. Eggsy says to me. I smile at him.

“Okay, Eggsy. I’m Y/N and you’re going to be my new best friend.”

“But you’re a girl.”

“So what if I am?”

“Do you pinky swear that you’re not gross like other girls.”

“I pinky swear.”

“Now we can be best friends,” Eggsy says with a toothy grin and I return it with him and we begin to work on the poster that the teacher had set for us.

——

“Wooo! Go Eggsy!” I shout in the stands next to Eggsy’s mum. Both of us cheering him on in his gymnastics competition.

“That’s my boy!” Michelle shouts and I shout alongside her cheering for my best friend as if the noise I make will make him win even more.

He pulls off the routine effortlessly as per usual and I sit there restlessly with a cheshire grin on my face, waiting until I can congratulate him because that’s some talent needed.

It was no surprise he won the competition, again, yet to congratulate him we went to the one place anybody goes for celebration, McDonalds. He orders a big mac whilst I get a M/O and we sit down and eat across from one another and Michelle is sat next to Eggsy with her meal as well.

“Well done babes,” Michelle says.

“Yeah, well done Eggsy!” I say with a mouthful of food and Michelle gives me a motherly glare. “Sorry.”

“Did you see me out there? I was flying like a bird and just swinging and it was amazing!” Eggsy explains rushingly which Michelle just chuckles at and I nod and carry on eating my meal.

——

“Oh come on Y/N what’s one night going to do to your study plan? We’ve literally only just started year eleven you’ll be fine, you’re a clever clogs anyways.”

“Eggsy, we had this conversation when it came to mocks in year ten and what did I do? I flunked it, so we are not going there.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport love come onnnn, you know you want to,” Eggsy eggs on with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Fine. I’ll take the day off and we can do what you want.”

“Oh you’re going to regret saying that now,” Eggsy chides and I roll my eyes at his antics.

“Are you trying to make me change my mind?” He shakes his head and we leave my room to go and follow whatever antics he had in store.

That night ended up with us in A & E because Eggsy got into a fight and I attempted to break it up and a for sale house sign ended up hitting me in the face.

A busted lip with a scar to remember it with since the sign managed to break through into my mouth.

The look on Eggsy’s face when it happened seemed to be one of pure anger and fear, but I could’ve been seeing things. Yet at fifteen I knew for definite after all the years I’d known Eggsy Unwin, I loved him. For the following weeks he was so protective of me that it was almost overbearing. Almost.

I managed to get him to watch some movies with me and we even ended up eventually on watching My Fair Lady which I fell asleep to within ten minutes whilst Eggsy watched the whole thing.

——

It was one of them nights, I instantly knew when the phone rang. It was Eggsy, Dean was being a dick again. He came over to my house and I put aside all of my a level revision and brought him into a hug. “Why did she pick him of all people Y/N?”

“I don’t know Eggs, it’ll get better eventually, I promise.”

“How can you promise that?” he asks and that’s when I know he needs a pick me up.

“Because i’m psychic okay, and obviously I can see your future which is extremely blinding to the naked eye that you’d need factor a thousand sun cream okay?” I explain to him with a sorrowful smile on my features, he simply nods and I pull him back into a hug although it’s an awkward angle due to the height difference.

“I was thinking about joining the marines.” Eggsy blurts out.

“That’d be great for you Eggs, I mean it’s what you want to do right?” I ask him looking into his green eyes.

“Yeah, but.” He stops.

“But what Eggsy?” I ask.

“I don’t want to leave you or mum.” He explains.

“Look, if you do just know I’m with you every step of the way regardless, and i’ll be there for your mum as well. I’ll look after her.” I explain and rub his back soothingly. He gives me a incredulous look. “Oi, don’t be cheeky. Need I remind you on how I got this scar?” I nudge him and he chuckles.

“Okay, you’ve got me,” he sighs and loops his arms around me and brings me in tightly. “How do you always know to say the right thing?” he asks.

“I’m an a level student, I’m smart what can I say?” I say cheekily with a wink and that causes him to tickle my sides and I have no escape. “Eggsy! Stop! Please!” I plead.

“Say uncle!”

“Neverrr!” I laugh out and it starts to pain me. Yet he is relentless in tickling me. “Okay okay! Uncle,” I relent and he laughs before launching himself on my bed.

“So… rom com or horror?” he asks.

“which would you prefer?” I return.

“Romcom.”

“Horror it is then,” I retort and he gasps from behind me. “Deal with it Eggboy, you prefer the romcoms and I like the horror movies I thought we had established this by now. Okay, now pick. Left or right.”

“Right.”

“It’s…. Saw!” I exclaim pulling the movie out from behind my back and he rolls his eyes at my excitement for the franchise. “Don’t worry, you can hide in my arms if you get scared,” I tease as I put in the dvd.

“Oi!” he shouts and throws a pillow which hits me square in the face as I turn around.

“What? It’s the truth and you know it,” I chastise.

——

Eggsy was halfway through training before his mum went mental at him not wanting to lose him like how she lost his dad and I could understand and so did Eggsy to the point that he dropped out.

When he returned home I had my final exam of my whole a levels. Three and a half hours of pure writing and by the time it was done my hand had cramped up into the position of how I hold my pen. Yet when leaving the building he was there waiting for me in casual clothes. “Eggsy!” I exclaimed as I ran to him to which he brought me into his arms with ease.

“Hello love,” he states with a smirk on his face. “Pub?”

“Yes, you read my mind. Especially after that exam,” I state and we head to my car that I had saved up for with work.

——

All throughout the time I was in university, Eggsy was by my side. Even when I dropped out because the band that I had been working with was starting to take off and I decided it was for the best to drop out of my degree.

He was there when my family kicked me out after learning of me dropping out and helped me find a flat as well.

There were many lows and many highs. There was always the almosts. The almost love, the almost kiss. Yet it never happened.

And thus darkness, the only familiar thing throughout, when I was attacked it was dark and that’s what it’s like for me without him, dark.

Yet in the near distance a rhythmic droning beats. It sounds almost like a heart monitor. Wait. I must have made it to the hospital. I was found in time.

Fighting to open up my eyes was probably harder than it should have been but I was determined. Although it was bright, I soon adjusted and I’m met with the clinical space of a hospital bedroom. Flowers are dotted around the room and I notice a small teddy bear in a suit amongst them all. I smile at the gesture. Then the door swings open where two nurses are chatting amongst themselves and that’s when they notice i’m awake.

The next few days were a blur and before I knew it I was heading home, alone. Although the days were a blur, nobody visited. Lying in my bed for the first time in what felt like forever was luxurious yet it was interrupted by a knock at my door and a groan from my mouth following suit. I grab my crutches and hobble to the door, ready to tell the person to fuck off yet when the door opens I’m met with the familiar green eyes.

“You’re okay!” he exclaims and goes to hug me which I recoil against.

“Yeah, as much as someone who was attacked can I guess.” I say and hobble back in leaving him to follow me in and I head back towards my bedroom where my bed beckons me.

“Are you okay?” he inquires. I just nod and sit on my bed. “Okay now I know you’re not okay, talk to me Y/N.” Tears start to well in my eyes.

“I don’t know okay. One minute I’m walking from Amy’s and the next I know someone is attacking me and asking me about your job and then I was alone and it just felt so cold and it felt horrible, like I haven’t felt like that since my parents were screaming and shouting at me for dropping out of University. Yet I was on the verge of death. But the worst thing Eggsy, it was being there bleeding out in the middle of London alone. I don’t think I can be alone again if I’m honest.” He pulls me into his side gently and motions for me to carry on. “I realised that all of the best moment in my life are with you and I don’t know what I am going to do with myself if I don’t tell you that I love you Eggsy. I have done since we were kids and I mean in a romantic way, not a platonic way and if you leave i’ll understand but I had to say it.”

“Y/N, when I got the call from the hospital saying that you were there, I froze. I don’t freeze. I was with Merlin and Roxy and I broke down hearing that news because guess what, Y/N M/N L/N I am in love with you and I have been for years okay?” He confesses and we lean into one another, it was like it went in slow motion and then the next thing I knew we were kissing. “God i’ve waited years to do that,”

“I can bet I have been waiting longer than you Eggs,” I smirk and cock my eyebrow at him. That’s when he tries to lay me down. “Ah ah ah, nope mister. I’m not allowed to engage in any physical activity for six weeks until the stitches can be taken out.” I explain to which he huffs and decides to just cuddle me instead. “But this, I can get used to,” I mutter and lay my head on his chest.

“I love you Eggsy.”

“I love you too Y/N”

#imaginetings #eggsy unwin x reader #eggsy x reader #eggsy unwin imagine #eggsy imagine #kingsman imagine

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ofstarsandvibranium · 5 years

Text

Some Alpha: Part 8

Fandom: Marvel (ABO AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky is an Alpha, but can never seem to find someone who wants him to be their Alpha. Until he finds you, a Beta, who’s as firey as an Alpha, yet also tender-hearted like an Omega.

Warning: smut - fingering

A/N: slowly and surely. we’re getting close to the mating chapter!!!

Bucky couldn’t make it to your class today. He was called in for work early to supervise some trial runs. Despite you being so understanding and supportive of Bucky, he still felt like he was failing you. Even though you had a smile on his face and made him promise to come by after he gets off of work, he still couldn’t help that he was disappointing you, and he hated that.

To make up for that nagging feeling, Bucky decided to come by during lunch, a bag of takeout from one of your favorite restaurants in hand. He planned on surprising you while you were in the pool, but that immediately failed because as soon as he walked into the gym lobby, you were at the reception desk talking to Hope.

“Hey, Tubby!”

You look over your shoulder to see Bucky and you immediately scold Hope, “Knock it off, Gregory!” and then you sauntered your sweet ass over to him, pecking his lips, “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you.”

He shrugged, “Surprise! I brought some sustenance for my beautiful Beta.”

You bounced with delight as you kissed Bucky’s cheek, “Why thank you, my handsome Alpha. Good timing too ‘cause I’m starving!”

Bucky’s proudful grin immediately turned into worry, his Alpha instincts kicking in, “Starving? Did you not eat this morning?”

You regretfully shook your head, “No. I woke up a bit late since we stayed up all night marathoning Black Mirror.”

Bucky physically winced, mentally berating himself for not being considerate of your sleep schedule and that you had work the next morning. What kind of Alpha keeps their Beta up all night to to then not have them eat breakfast because they slept so late? You’re a terrible Alpha. Not only are you inconsiderate, you’re ugly, and fat and-

“Bucky,” you cup his cheeks to get him to look at you, “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. I knew it was likely to happen. You didn’t make me stay at your place all night. I wanted to be there, so it’s my fault. It’s my fault I didn’t get anything to eat this morning either. Not yours.” your thumbs softly stroke his stubbled cheeks, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Alpha. I promise,” you whispered.

Bucky took your hands and kissed them, mumbling, “You’re such an angel, you know that?”

“Gag me with a fork!” Hope hollered from the counter, obnoxiously chewing on some bubblegum.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “I believe the saying is ‘gag me with a spoon’, Hope.”

“No, gag with me a fork so it could puncture my throat and I can die. Jesus, you guys are disgusting!”

You snorted and wrapped your arms around Bucky, “It’s okay, Hope, once you find your someone, you’ll be just as cute and disgusting as us.”

“I’d rather die,” she sneers before turning on her heels and heading to the gymnastics room.

You rolled your eyes, “Pretty sure she’s cranky ‘cause her heat is creeping up. Anyway, wanna eat this at the tables in the back?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Bucky leans in and kisses your nose. He then proceeds slip his fingers into yours and follows you towards the picnic area towards the back of the gym.

____________________________

Bucky had come to your place after you got home from work. Your hair was still damp from your shower. A hoodie and shorts donning your form. Bucky still wore his suit from work. A heather gray blazer with matching slacks and a white button up shirt. However, his blazer was tossed on the back of your couch, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, and the top two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. He looked delectable.

Offer yourself to him. That’s what you’re here for, to serve Alphas like him. Your inner Beta was telling you, but your logical mind was scolding it. You shook your head and went back to paying attention to Bucky talking.

“Something wrong?”

“Tired. I know I asked you to come here, but I can’t help but feel exhausted.”

Bucky chuckled, “I get it, baby. It’s alright.” he stood up with a grunt, stretching his arms out, “I’ll leave and you can-”

“Actually...can you stay? It’ll probably be just a two hour nap. After that, we can go out and eat or something?”

“If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay.” He helps you stand and guides to your room, “Finally get to see if you talk in your sleep or not.”

You scoff, “I mumble nonsense, so I highly doubt you’ll hear anything good.”

“We’ll see about that,” he mutters into your hair and kisses your head.

_______________________

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. Looks like you were exhausted just as you told him. Bucky laid in your bed, down to his undershirt and boxers, not wanting to feel uncomfortable as he laid in bed with you.

You were curled up into him, his protective arm wrapped around you as you soundly slept off today’s work. You made little noises here and there, but no mumbling or talking in your sleep so far.

“Bu...cky.” Nevermind.

“Bucky,” you whispered in your sleep, a moan following his name. So...that’s how you sound like.

“Alpha,” you panted as you rolled over, your back now facing Bucky’s, but you scoot back until your ass met his crotch, “Alpha, please,” you whimpered, grinding your ass against Bucky.

Oh shit. She’s having a sex dream! A sex dream about you!

This is it. You can take her. Listen to her! She’s begging for you!

He grunted as you pushed your ass back to him hard. He could feel his cock harden within every second. His arm around you tightened. A part of him, his Alpha part of him, wanted him to take you. Fuck you and mark you his. But his logical part of him was shaking his head: You can’t take advantage of her like that. It’s wrong and she deserves better than that.

Bucky, despite his urges growing, removed his arm from you and began to shake you awake, “Y/N, baby, wake up.” He couldn’t see if you were beginning to stir, so he continued, “Sweetheart, come on, can you wake up? Please? Y/N?”

After a few more shakes you groaned and lifted your head, “Wh-Bucky? What’s wrong?” you turn over to look at him, you notice that his cheeks are flushed and there’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead, “What happened? Did I do something wro-” that’s when you smell it. The musky smell of lust radiating off him, “You-You woke me up ‘cause you’re horny?”

Bucky sat up in an instant, “No, well, yes, but no! You-You were talking in your sleep. You were moaning my name and then you started grinding against me a-and I was, well, you know, so I decided to wake you up.”

“Oh,” you look down in shame and embarrassment, “I’m sorry, Bucky, I didn’t-I guess I’m still a bit turned on from earlier.”

“Earlier?” he looked at you confused, his heading cocking to the side like a confused puppy.

“Yeah. Earlier you looked really sexy with your sleeves rolled up and your shirt unbuttoned. I guess the thoughts I was having about you slipped into my dreams.”

“Were you,” he gulps, “Were you having a sex dream about me?”

You bit your lip and nodded, avoiding his gaze, “Yeah, but I know you wanna take things slow so I don’t expect-”

“How about we help each other out?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m clearly turned on right now, and I’m pretty sure you are too, so we, uh, handle it together?”

“But-”

Bucky raises his hand and wiggles his fingers, “Some hand and mouth action should take care of it in a jiffy.” he repeats your words from the last time, making you giggle.

“Alright then, Alpha. Want me to work on you first-”

“Actually, can-can I go first w-with you? I won’t use my mouth, I just-I wanna touch you.”

“Okay,” you whisper as you kick off the blanket and wiggle out of your shorts. You then take his hand and slip it your underwear, you gasp when you feel his fingers graze along your slit.

“You’re so wet already, Beta,” his whispers.

You whimper out for him, “Alpha, please, touch me. Fuck me with your fingers.”

You watch as his eyes dilate and darken. He smirks and lets out a dark chuckle, “My Beta wants me to finger fuck her, then finger fuck her I shall.” His fingers delve into your folds, already coating themselves in your juices.

“Fuck,” you moan and hide your face in Bucky’s chest, but it doesn’t stay there.

He pulls you back and tsks, “No, no. I wanna look at you while my fingers are inside your pussy, my sweet Beta. Wanna see your eyes when I make you cum.”

“Alpha,” you cry out as your fingers dig into Bucky’s arm. His fingers are pumping in and out of you hard and fast, “So good, Alpha.”

“Yeah? Your Alpha making you feel good, sweetheart? Is your Alpha gonna make you cum all over his fingers?”

“Want it, Alpha. Please, make me cum.”

“Rub your clit while I finger you, Beta.”

You gasp as even more pleasure is added to the mix. You haven’t felt this much heated, raw pleasure in a while. It felt so good, so euphoric. You skin felt like it was on fire, hot to the touch.

You hear humming and Bucky’s chuckle, “I feel you tightening, my Beta. You’re close aren’t you? Can’t wait to feel you cum. Come on honey. Let me feel you. Cum for your, Alpha, will ya?”

You feel the pressure building up inside and when Bucky started to go harder and faster, that’s when the dam broke loose. You squirt all over Bucky’s fingers as well as your underwear, plus some of your bed.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he growls as he helps you ride through your orgasm right until you grab at his hand to make him stop. Slowly and carefully, he pulls his fingers out of you, purposefully grazing along your clit before pulling his hand out. It’s completely covered in your juices. You watch with hazy eyes as Bucky licks his fingers and hand clean, while remaining eye contact with you.

“So taste delicious, Beta. Can’t wait to get my mouth on you someday.”

You groan and hide your face into the neck, “Thank you, Bucky. Shall I do you now?”

He shakes his head and confuses you, “No, it’s alright. You should probably go back to sleep now.”

“But-”

“Y/N, I promise. It’s alright. I just want you to sleep, okay? I don’t mind that I’m not taken care of. Once you’re asleep, I’ll just take care of myself in the bathroom.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” he kisses your lips and then your forehead, “Go back to sleep, my Beta.”

You hum in compliance, your eyes fluttering closed and you mumble out, “Thank you, Alpha.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #chubby!bucky #abo au #au #marvel #smut

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transitverse · 4 years

Text

Faith (an interlude)

WORDS: 1800 CHAPTERS: 1 CHARACTERS: Zenith, Pox

You have to trust that everything will right itself, one way or another. (Or: Pox and Zenith find a depressing kind of peace in a hotel room.)

Set between chapters 1 and 2 of Long-distance charges, but not mutually required reading.

Soundtrack: take care, lady legs - hyi

The walk back to the hotel is spent in near silence. Even as you climb into the elevator, fly past all of the other arrondissements to your floor, neither of you says a word. Pox clings to your arm, though, her head against your shoulder. It says all that needs to be said.

"What are we gonna tell Tech?"

She poses the question as you're entering the hotel lobby. Dak--you can only assume, having seen neither head nor tail of him, and knowing who he is as a person--is still out at the bar.

"I... I don't know. I don't think I want to tell him anything." Easier said than done. "I don't want to have this conversation yet."

Pox doesn't question it. What she does question--what you both do--is the empty hotel room you arrive back to.

"What the fuck?" Pox stares alongside you at the room; The Nutting Professor is still playing on the TV, for some goddamn reason, and Tech's robes are laid out on the bed, but the man himself is nowhere to be seen. She opens the bathroom door, and--"What the fuck?"

"What?"

"'WENT WITH GUY, BRB .'" You poke your head into the door to see what in God's name she's talking about, and, yep, there it is: "WENT WITH GUY, BRB," smeared across the mirror in soap.

"What the fuck?" Your immediate instinct is to fire off a message asking where he is. He's probably not dead. Probably. If he was in trouble, he'd let you know. You think. You hope.

"He's... fine, probably. Look, I'll ask him." You send the message, just for peace of mind. Pox's danger sense would flare up if he was in harm's way, too, right? Yeah, sure. So he's good. It’s hard to think about this with the sound of nasty sex going on in the background. "Okay, Jesus, I need to turn off that fucking porno before I lose my mind."

Switching the channel to something mundane and boring but at-least-not-sexually-graphic takes all of about three seconds, at which point you've already claimed a bed and thrown yourself down on it. Pox sheds her coat, crawls up beside you and half-drapes herself across your body, her head tucked into the crook of your neck. It's a little more than what you're used to, even from her, but tonight, you're glad for it. You let your head fall against hers. She nuzzles into you gently.

"It's gonna be okay, you know," she says, after a little while, so matter-of-factly you feel like you almost have to believe her.

"Yeah." You press your face into her hair slightly, eyes drifting shut for a moment. A nauseous feeling has settled itself in the pit of your stomach and hasn't left since you walked into that godforsaken shop.

"It was Aubrey you called earlier, right?"

"Mhm."

"Did she say anything?"

"She said she knew about this. About how they wipe our minds if we get too fucked up to be useful anymore. But that was it. She never knew-- doesn’t know any more than I do."

Pox shifts slightly, adjusting her position in a way that makes her hair tickle your neck. "Anything else?"

"...She said it'll be okay." Conveniently ignoring that you left out that you-- No, you don't even want to think about it. But you told her everything else. "She said I've been through worse. And, like, I guess I have, but I don't know how useful that is when I can't remember most of it to put it in context." You take in a slow, measured breath and exhale. "But she said I’ll be fine, because I have people to look after me. As long as I... let them look after me."

You can't stop thinking about that. You think back to your conversations out on the balcony, too, barely a day ago. It wasn’t a request, was it? It was a warning. Don’t make the same mistakes I did.

"So let us look after you." Pox pulls idly at one of the tags on your jacket. "We're going to get this fixed. And then you can do whatever you want about… finding them."

Mm. The delicate matter of what you want to do about the organisation responsible for the way your life played out. After all this, you're still wanting for answers; that much you know, and you're still going to get them. After that... somewhere, under the nausea, under the fear, under the uncertainty and regret and apprehension, anger is already flaring to life. They took everything you could have had in life. Promises be damned; you have your own reasons for wanting to burn them to the ground.

But right now, you have more difficult issues to grapple with: not what they did, but what you did. Ten rounds out in battlefields you barely remember. All those visions and dreams of dead bodies that now feel so, so much more real. You think of what Aubrey said about bombs and fire and killing; about it all being twisted into some kind of sick game. The cold, hard truth has been thrust in your face, and there's no way you can turn a blind eye to it anymore. No more pretending. No more burying. No more mental gymnastics in search of an explanation to extricate yourself from deeds you’ve quietly suspected for a long time that you might have participated in.

You have to face this head-on. Stare it down. You can't change it. Your only choice is in how you respond to it.

"You're brilliant, you know," Pox continues, quietly, after a moment, drawing you out of your own head. "Whatever they say about you. They don't really know you."

"I feel like I don't even know me right now."

"I know you." She turns her head up to you, silver eyes wide in the low light. "I know you're not weak. And Dak knows you, and Tech knows you, and they don't think you're weak. Not how these--this--some big creepy fucking corporation thinks you are. Whatever they think is bullshit, okay? They don't care about you. They think you're weak because they didn't want you to care about things. But you do. That's what makes you better than them.”

All you can do is... stare, wordless. You manage a nod. Even if you had the energy, you wouldn't argue with her. There's no point. She's an immovable object when she's made up her mind about something.

Besides: you know, somewhere, deep down, that there's truth in what she says.

"I-- Yeah. Yeah. I know. It's just-- This is--" You keep stumbling and tripping in the process of trying to form a coherent sentence, but Pox understands without having to hear it aloud.

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow." You heave a deep sigh and let your eyes slip shut for a moment as she settles back against your chest. How you're supposed to sleep tonight, you have no idea. At times like this, it'd be handy if you could switch your brain off as easily as you can your complete cybernetics. Emotional burnout has never hit so hard so fast. For now, you need to do what you've become so good at doing over the years: compartmentalise. Box this up and set it aside. There will be time to address it all. The time is not now, but it will come. When you've slept. When this death race is over. When you've left Fyre Tower in the rear-view mirror and you can all look towards the future with clear heads and fresh eyes.

"Did Tech answer yet?"

You glance down at Pox with your left eye. Your AR feed is clear.

"No. You'd get the creeps if something was up, though, right?"

"Not if he's miles away!"

"I mean, he said he'd be back! He'll be fine. I... I think I trust him. Anyway, you saw how he was earlier. I don't think we should go looking for him. I think he wants to be left alone right now."

Pox is silent. She lays her head back down on your shoulder, fingers fiddling with your shirt this time.

"I just want everyone to be happy," she says, eventually, just above a whisper. "With Tech, earlier, and Dak--and now you, and-- Everything keeps getting fucked up, and I don't know what to do."

Your immediate response is to slip an arm around her shoulders and pull her closer into your side. You forget how tiny she really is without that coat on and a thousand mystery objects padding it out. She turns her face into your neck and you rest your head atop hers, chin sinking into stark white curls.

"You're doing fine, Pox." You feel her hand under your jacket, sliding all the way around you, clinging to you. "You're here. You're doing everything you can. That's more than enough." You pause, and then, because you realise you never said it earlier: “Thank you.”

She doesn't answer, or move, or respond in any way that you can tell. You keep hold of her anyway. God, you hope Dak doesn't come barging in, drunk off his ass right now. You kind of hope Tech doesn't, either, sober or not, though either way (and no matter his substance of choice) he'd be more manageable than Dak.

You find yourself curling a lock of Pox’s hair around your fingers as you lay there with her, tuning out the late-night reruns of shitty trid shows in the background. With that gone and your own woes packed away for the time being, you're left with a completely clear head for the first time in... well, probably the last two weeks. It's refreshing. You bask in the tranquillity of it for a little while. God only knows when you'll get another moment to do so.

Seeing perhaps your only window of opportunity in which to fall asleep, your brain seizes the chance and before you know it, you’re dozing off. You're vaguely aware, at some point, of switching off the TV. With the room now silent, and Pox a comforting dead weight on your side, drifting back off right where you lie comes easy.

Maybe when you wake up, everything will make more sense. Maybe the world will have fixed itself: Tech will be back, unharmed, happy. So will Dak. Your little visit to Sons of Adam will have been one big mix-up and you won’t be hurtling towards an uncertain death at a hundred miles per hour. Pox won’t need to feel guilty and helpless about problems far beyond her control.

Maybe none of it will be fixed at all.

You’ll just have to hold on tight,

Wait,

And see.

#neoscum #lost in transit #side story #standalone #complete #zenith #pox

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quirkless-deku-aus · 4 years

Text

Those Times That Dick Grayson Got Tangled Up with The BatFamily

It was one of those days where Dick starts to question – just for a tiny bit – the decision he made for himself.

Was it a good idea to become a policeman in the first place?

Living in one of the most crime-ridden and corrupt city in the world, also being a policeman at that, it’s safe to say that NO, it wasn’t such a good idea. Not to mention that vigilantes and villains also roamed (owned) the streets all the time.

He might as well have thrown himself off of a building and that would have been a much more merciful ending to his life.

So, did he ever regret the decision of being a policeman?

Hell no, he doesn’t.

Okay, so maybe he does regret it but only for a small bit. There’s still a part of him that wishes that he should have pursued his career of becoming a gymnast instructor instead or even as a stripper but no, he still chose to become a cop.

Because call him silly and weird but despite witnessing something traumatic at the tender age of ten and also being mentally and emotionally scarred for life, he still try – and succeed most of time – to see the beauty of life and give the love and joy that the world deserves.

Crazy, right?

It might be even crazier than the Joker.

Um, maybe not crazier than the Joker. Nobody’s beating that record and he doubts that anyone actually wants to in the first place. Periodt.

Dick is pretty much aware that most of the people believes that everyone who lives in this world deserves to suffer and die because of the sins we have done and sometimes, he may or may not agree with that statement but it’s the harsh truth. The world and the people in it can be cruel and mean and disgusting. It’s just that, it doesn’t have to stay that way.

There’s this saying that, “The brighter the light, the darker the shadow.” So, meaning that no matter how dark the world gets, a ray of light will still manage to penetrate it and serve as a beacon of hope.

So that’s what he’s going to do.

Serve as beacon of hope for those who needs it.

Sure, the superheroes and vigilantes and heck, even the anti-heroes already got that covered, he would still like to contribute using his own way.

Like, helping an old man cross the street. Chasing a snatcher in between the very busy and crowded streets of Gotham. Even by just preparing a cup of coffee for Commissioner Gordon during a hasty night.

These actions might seems small to others but he enjoys doing them and he never gets tired seeing the smiles of those he help.

Although, the coffee one had caused him to be teased relentlessly by his fellow co-workers that he’d make an awesome errand boy.

It hurt but he knew better so he laughed it off with them. Every time.

John Blake, Commissioner Gordon, and even his daughter seemed to be the only ones who notices his discomfort whenever someone in the office makes a joke about him being an errand boy and calls them out for it.

He flashes them a grin every time.

Well, it originally started as a joke. Since his ‘saviours’ aren’t always there to ‘save’ him, the others started to actually send him on errands.

Ranging from simple errands to downright ridiculous ones. You know, the type of ridiculous where he wouldn’t have believed if he didn’t get to witness it first-hand.

Just like the situation he is in right now.

Dick finds himself gawking at a child wielding a katana inside a pet shop near downtown. Like, who lets a child have access to deadly weapons?!

He knew he should’ve just told Commissioner Gordon about the others sending him on errands.

Damn it.

Dick let out a small sigh. Okay, he can do this.

He let a small grin grace his lips, “Hey there, buddy.”

The kid narrowed his eyes more and spat out, “Do not call me with such a demeaning name. Heed that and I assure you that you will not be leaving this establishment with your right hand missing.”

Dick blinked at that and he felt his grin falter. Oh boy.

“Alright then, no using of demeaning names.” He said as he manage a gesture of air-quoting and he also didn’t fail to notice how the other’s grip on the katana tightened, “Do you have a name I could use?”

Silence met his question and he wasn’t even surprised. This is going to be a long day.

A second sigh left his lips that hour and his hands found permanent residence on his hips. “So no names too, huh?”

He let his eyes take in the kid in front of him. If he were to base the kid’s age by his height, he couldn’t have been older than ten and his voice served as another factor for his theory.

A deep scowl lay across his youthful face and Dick briefly wonders if that’ll stay there for the rest of his life. He’s also wearing a black hoodie and despite the hood obstructing his full view of the other’s face, his piercing teal eyes seemed to be glinting with relentless rage and intense distrust.

The distrust he could fathom but the rage doesn’t seem to be directed towards him. So, who could that rage be for?

Dick knew that he wasn’t the only one doing an assessment, the kid looked pretty keen on observing him as well.

Probably to find some sort of weakness he could use against me. His mind supplied bitterly.

“-Tt- You’re a detective, are you not?” He could sense a hint of sarcasm in the kid’s voice, “Surely, you will be able to discern those yourself.”

He wasn’t even sure if the kid was serious or is just being a huge brat but he doesn’t have enough will in him to explain to the other that there’s a huge difference between being a police officer and being a detective.

But, he likes the idea of becoming a detective one day too.

“Okay, can you at least tell me what are you doing here?”

Dick was sure that he wouldn’t get a straight answer again but was startled when the other diverted his gaze elsewhere. His piercing eyes landed on a cowering man – probably the owner of this pet shop – sitting on the floor.

“This imbecile does not have enough qualifications to run this pathetic-excuse of an establishment, much less to have the audacity to sell these animals.”

He wasn’t sure how to react on the raw emotion that bled into that statement so he remained silent and instead decided to actually look around him.

He noticed how most of the cages appear to be crowded. The AC wasn’t really running and the sunlight were directly hitting some of the cages.

Dick frowns. He knows that this isn’t his field of expertise but he can still tell that this isn’t a standard condition for the animals to be placed in.

Maybe he could call someone from the Animal Control to deal with this—

“Please don’t kill me!”

Dick didn’t have enough time to let the situation sink in but he used his quick reflexes to grab the kid’s hood and pull back. The katana missed the man’s head by a few inches.

Holy shit.

“Oh my God!” the man continued to shriek then he proceeded to scramble on his feet and hid behind the counter.

The kid flailed around for a moment before trying to stab him next. Luckily, Dick anticipated this and so used his height and flexibility to his advantage. He manage to avoid the unforgiving end of the katana before forcefully trying to pull it away from the kid’s grasp.

He’s basically just having a tug-of-war with a ten-year old with the rope being a deadly katana.

It was definitely hard with using only one hand to pull it away while he also have to hold the kid up with the other.

“Unhand me this instant, you bastard!”

Okay so he’s a homicidal brat and a potty mouth. Great.

“No can do.” Dick supressed the urge to sigh again for the third time that hour, “At least, not until I make sure you won’t kill the poor guy over there.”

“He deserves it!” the kid screeched and pulled at the katana harder. He also heard the guy whimper from behind the counter.

With how strong the rage the kid is fuelled with, Dick wasn’t really sure on how he’s still holding on to the katana.

“Jesus, kid. Calm down for a second.”

The answer he received is more disgruntled outbursts and revitalized tugging from the kid.

He needs a new tactic to use.

“How about we make a deal then?”

Surprisingly, the kid paused at that. He didn’t get to dwell on that because the other turned towards him and gave him such a dark and spine-chilling glare that may or may not rival the infamous Bat-glare (yeah that’s what he calls it).

“I shall not partake in a deal with a disgusting and vile figure of this society. I was not wrong to assume that the GCPG serve as a breeding ground for corruption and treacherous acts.”

Dick bristled at that. He felt temper suddenly flared up.

The kid noticed this and gave him a crooked and sharp grin, “Oh, did I hit a nerve there, detective?”

Fucking brat.

“Look, I have been really, really patient with you, young man but I think that you have gone far enough.” He growled out, “And haven’t anyone told you that it’s not nice to start spouting assumptions? That could really get you in trouble.”

The other blinked at him and something flashed through his eyes but it was gone before Dick was able to identify it.

The kid’s expression turned blank. He gestured towards the katana and deadpanned, “I am not nice.”

Dick rolled his eyes and wrenched the weapon away from the other’s grasp. Immediately, the kid reached after it and bared his teeth at him like some pissed-off cat.

“Return that at once!”

“And I will.” He drawled out, “I just need you to listen to what I have to say. I know that you don’t trust me like a lot and I get that but you have to understand that I can’t let you murder the pet shop owner.”

He saw the other starting to open their mouth so he spoke up again quickly, “However, I can offer an alternative where I call the Animal Control and let them deal with this. They’re much more qualified with handling this sort of situation.”

The kid remained silent. He was probably contemplating the pros and cons of his offer.

Smart kid. Murderous, bratty, and a potty mouth but definitely smart.

“-Tt- very well then.” The kid crossed his arms and held his chin up, “I accept your alternative offer but do not think for a moment that I trust people of your calibre.”

“Should you do something that upset me, I will not hesitate to take you down.” His eyes flicked towards his name badge for a moment before settling on his eyes, “I will be watching you, Grayson.”

Dick let the third sigh of that hour escape his lips.

“Duly noted.”

Please continue reading here:

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svtskneecaps · 5 years

Text

Walls Could Talk Part 1 ~ handsome student

(Seventeen Fic, Superpower! Non-Idol! High school! AU)

You’re just a high school kid trying to survive your senior year. Seems simple enough. Problem is, you landed a major crush on a good looking transfer student, and unfortunately, the both of you are hiding some abilities that are a bit less than normal, and there’s a ghost you thought you buried in your past that’s rearing his ugly head. So… maybe this won’t be as easy as you were hoping.

((Optional Main Cast Introduction))

You were not a tutor.

You were very afraid to take matters in your own hands and accidentally do things the wrong way. You were even more afraid to take matters in your own hands and accidentally teach someone to do something wrong. You were absolutely terrified to screw someone else over because you weren’t smart enough.

Working with the English Language Learners was different. English was a strong suit of yours. You’d grown up speaking the damn language, you knew what you were doing. It just came naturally; you didn’t even have to pay attention to get it. And besides, you were just a student assist there, not the freaking teacher! You just sat there and acted as a second opinion if asked and occasionally woke Jihoon when the over exhausted junior passed out on his desk again.

But this? This was different. This was new. You didn’t like it, not a bit, but also, you needed service hours and your teacher practically begged you to tutor this struggling student, so you’d signed up. Just because you adored that teacher and wanted to help her out because she was new and had a bunch of classes filled with those kinds of kids who were incapable of shutting their mouths.

Your math classes usually were. It was infuriating. You were almost shocked you were even able to pass the class yourself.

Oh shoot, you were complaining again. You hated it when you did that. Rambled off on the same shit over and over and no one shut you up. Purely out of habit you reached for your phone, maybe to text a friend, get some moral support-

You halted the motion. You forgot, you’d purged everyone from your phone and changed your number. You had three contacts now: your mom, your dad, and your grandparents, and you couldn’t text your online friend on school internet. No support was coming.

You’d been waiting in the math classroom for about fifteen minutes. Your teacher said you’d all meet there right after school. Either she’d been lying or you had gotten the room number wrong. You checked your email for the millionth time, rechecking the room number to make absolutely certain you were in the right spot. Really, none of this was helping with the backflips your internal organs were doing. You were going to be a professional gymnast by the time they showed up.

The math teacher entered the room twenty nine minutes and thirty two seconds after she said she would be there, according to the clock on the wall. “Sorry, one of my students stayed behind to take a quiz!”

“It’s fine,” you said almost automatically.

“Where’s Jun? I sent him down ahead of me.”

“Maybe he got lost?” you offered, sincerely hoping it wasn’t the Jun you were thinking of, because if it was, you were in need of a cliff. Nothing against him, just you were highly intimidated and weren’t sure how you could handle teaching him the weird math stuff like the unit circle or anti derivatives or something equally bananas.

Shoot, you got distracted. What was she saying?

“Oh, Jun!”

Shit.

So. . . you were right. It was Junhui Wen you were going to be tutoring. The really intimidating guy from sixth period ELL.

You were gonna implode.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said sheepishly (with that infuriatingly attractive accent of his, like could you get any more cliché but you absolutely loved accents and his was so cute). “I guess I didn’t understand the room number.”

“That’s okay, you’re here now,” your teacher said encouragingly. You did a mental sweep of your body, trying to make sure you weren’t visibly freaking out. Inside was enough. “Jun, this is Y/N. Y/N, Jun.”

You forced an uncertain smile and a quiet greeting. He beamed at you.

Jesus Christ, you were going to combust.

“I’ll leave you two to set up a schedule.” The teacher ducked out. No don’t go, I’ll straight up pass. . . . . Away.

You shifted awkwardly, even more afraid now that the adult was gone. Because of course you were. Time to fall back on your best excuse.

“My ride is actually here, and I don’t really want to keep them waiting,” you said. “Can we exchange numbers or something and maybe text tonight to set something up?”

“That’s fine!”

At least he was enthusiastic. You handed him your phone, trusting him to input his number as you input your own. You just titled the contact with your name. No need to be extravagant, even though you had all sorts of extravagant names. ‘Probably not captain america’ was your current personal favorite. Last week you’d had the sudden urge to change it to ‘extremely judgmental hat’. It wasn’t particularly funny, but it amused you.

You heard Jun laugh and your face caught fire. Did he see your contact names? Oh god, you forgot your dad’s contact was ‘overlarge lumberjack’. Did he know what that meant? Oh god. You had the sudden urge to hide yourself in a sweatshirt, but it was too hot for those still. Your short sleeved shirt didn’t exactly leave you much room to bury yourself.

He handed you your phone back, and you pocketed it, thinking that if he commented on how red your face definitely was you were going to blame it on a rare genetic condition and spew some sciency sounding words, like deoxyribonucleic acid and supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. “I’ll text you tonight then?” you said, as though your brain wasn’t essentially that Spongebob gif where everything’s on fire.

“Yeah.”

You beat a hasty retreat, slinging your things into the backseat of your car and not truly relaxing until you pulled out of the parking lot, resting your head on the steering wheel at a particularly long red light. Technically you hadn’t lied to him, you reasoned. Being your own ride, you hadn’t lied when you said your ride was there, and you didn’t want to keep yourself waiting because your mind would eat you alive if you did you had homework you needed to do, but it still wasn’t quite the truth. Not a lie, a misleading truth, you reasoned.

But maybe that was just as bad.

The memory of your anxious words resonated through your skull, every little falter, every slightly off pitch, every piece of intonation. You groaned, the only thing keeping you from slamming your head into the steering wheel of your car being the knowledge that she would complain about it until the end of time itself. That was unusual for a car, but not for Wendy, evidently.

“Bad day?” her metallic voice rang in your ears.

“You could call it that.”

You were long unfazed by objects talking to you. Actually, you’d never been fazed. It took you seven years to realize it wasn’t something everyone could do, which was about two years too long.

The car huffed, a puff of exhaust rising behind you like an exhale. “Was it Derek? Tell me it wasn’t Derek. No, tell me it was. I’ve got a couple things I’d like to do to him.” Her engine revved threateningly.

“Not Derek, don’t worry. Just the guy I’m going to tutor. It’s stressing me out a little.”

“Is he like Derek? Do you need me to run him over for you?”

“No no no, he’s nice,” you hastily reassured her. “I mean, I think so anyway.” You’d thought Derek was nice too.

“Green light,” the car warned. You looked up and refocused on driving as the car continued speaking. “You just say the word and I’ll get him, sweetheart. I ain’t about to let another Derek get within ten miles of hurting my baby girl.”

“Me either,” you mumbled. Never again.

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Sorry about the shoddy formatting on the pics n whatever. I fiddled with the html but it didn’t do jack so idk what to do.

Anyway, update schedule’s the same as Stop Loving (my previous text story; a Choi Seungcheol Hanahaki AU if that sounds interesting). Next update should come between Thursday, January 24 and Saturday, January 26.

#seventeen #wen junhui #seventeen au #wen junhui au #junhui #seventeen scenario #wen junhui scenario #wen junhui imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #wen junhui fluff #seventeen angst #wen junhui angst #i refuse to be subtle about the pairing in the tags

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ticklishhpickle · 7 years

Text

Perfect

Aghhh this is my first fanfiction, if anyone actually reads this, please enjoy!

Word count: 1800

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Dan sat in his sofa crease furiously typing on his laptop. He needed to finish writing the script for his new video, film and edit it by tonight. Why do I do this to myself? He thought. I’m a fucking piece of trash. I’m literally the human embodiment of procrastination, jesus fucking christ the video’s not going to be done on time and I’ll be disappointing my viewers agai-

“Dan stop stressing so hard, it’s okay! Surely the Phans can wait another day for your video.” his train of thought was cut short by his flatmate’s soothing voice. A sympathetic smile graced his pink lips, his arms crossed against his pokemon pyjama shirt.

“No Phil you don’t understand I do this every time, I had all week to finish the video and now you’ve just wasted even more of my time, like you haven’t done enough of that already for the past five years.” Dan replied hotly. Shit. He knew he took it too far this time, but it was for the best. Anything done with Phil could never be a waste of time. He mentally slapped himself, he was sure he told his almost definitely unrequited feelings for Phil to go fuck off in a ditch, and to never come back. He knew he had been snappy with Phil lately, mostly due to his internal struggles with his stupid little crush on the black-haired boy that refused to go away.

Dan didn’t notice Phil’s face fall upon hearing his harsh words. “You don’t mean that. I’m going to leave you to do this, let me know if you need anything.” Phil’s words were soft and kind, just like the man who spoke them. Why did he have to be so.. so nice? Couldn’t he be anyone else and retaliate to the shit Dan just spurted at him? But no, he had to be perfect, sweet and logical Phil Lester. He was not making it any easier on Dan to fall out of love with him.

Dan could no longer concentrate on his video script- the guilt had hit him hard. But this was for the best. Perhaps if he was meaner to Phil, they would slowly drift apart and not be joined at the hip by their previously established unbreakable bond. Surely this would help Dan get over him, he reasoned. After years of relentless pining Dan finally put his foot down and made a plan to distance himself from the closest person to him, his best friend, his long time collaborator and flatmate. The distancing wasn’t necessarily working, per se as they lived in the same flat, shared nearly the exact same lives and with Phil always roping Dan into doing everything with him, they didn’t get much time apart. It was torturous bliss. On one hand, every second spent with Phil made him feel light and free, but whenever the truth of the matter, that Phil almost certainly would move out eventually and start a new life with some beautiful girl, hit him he felt heavy and crushed. The blue-eyed man was so damn oblivious to the effect he had on him. Dan was at the same time grateful yet so incapacitated for Phil’s failure to see something that was staring him right in the face. For heaven’s sake Dan pretty much swooned whenever Phil so much as brushed his fingers against his, by accident of course. Or mindlessly fiddled with his own fringe, making sure it was perfect (it always was). Phil was an idiot in this sense, but Dan was a buffoon.

They didn’t speak until the next evening, just after Dan finally uploaded his new video. It’s not like he didn’t want to talk to Phil, he always did, but the video was a great excuse not to talk to him and to hopefully speed up the murder of his inconvenient- to say the least- feelings.

“You did a really great job, Dan. The thumbnail is hilarious.” Dan’s stomach fluttered. He had actually put a lot of effort into creating an entire picture of the beach with every component made of his own face. He was particularly proud of his Dan-faced sun, a structure extremely reminiscent of the Teletubbies. Play it cool, Dan. Say something that makes it seem like your stomach doesn’t do a fucking gymnastics routine whenever he gives you the slightest compliment.

“Ah it was no big deal, only took me an hour to photoshop myself into a low budget version of the Teletubbies sun.” Dan internally cheered when he got through the sentence without stuttering or blushing (for the most part). “Well it was definitely worth it, it seriously looks great and the whole video is so well put together, Dan.” Dan opened his mouth to respond, when Phil continued, “So now that you’re done with making that masterpiece, do you want to maybe… watch some anime with me?” Phil looked so nervous and adorable, like a little puppy, his blue eyes looking hopefully at Dan.

Say no, say no, anime means spending more time with him, which means more pain in the long run. Dan pondered on this instinctual response for a second, before promptly telling his brain to shut the fuck up and let him enjoy just one night with his best friend.

“I’d like that.”

“OH MY GOD THAT IS THE MOST DRAMATIC THING I HAVE EVER SEEN A POTATO CHIP INVOLVED IN… EVER!!!” Phil bellowed out between shocks of laughter.

“First I take the chip… and then I EAT IT!” Dan imitated the anime character, grabbing a potato chip from the bag wedged in between him and Phil, and shoving it in his mouth for dramatic effect. This triggered another fit of uncontrollable laughter between the two men, that anyone would think they were drunk off their asses. They weren’t, they were just drunk off spending time with their favourite person.

When the laughter finally died down, Phil spoke up. “I’ve missed this Dan. I miss you.” Dan sobered up from the remnants of his laughter-induced drunk state. He knew this was Phil’s subtle way of asking why he had been so distant lately, while allowing Dan to not answer if he wasn’t comfortable. Again, why was Phil so considerate?

Dan considered his options in his head. Firstly, he could ignore the unspoken question and just say I miss you too Phil. But that would be unfair on Phil, surely he deserved to know why his best friend was drifting away after 5 years of friendship. But that left the alternative, of telling Phil how he felt, the very thing Dan had been avoiding for 5 years. Dan looked into Phil’s expectant blue eyes, and his heart ached. Phil deserved so much better than what Dan was treating him, and at the very least an explanation.

“Okay, Phil I’m going to tell you something that I’ve been wanting-no, needing to say for a long time. I know I’ve been so distant from you recently, and there’s a reason for that. You are my most favourite person in the universe, and I’m so lucky that I even have you as a friend. You’re truly amazing Phil.” Phil’s entire face lit up. “But back to the reason for my behaviour lately, yes I’ve been moody and snappy and basically just a dick for the past few weeks, months even and it’s nothing you’ve done. It’s all me.” Dan took a big gulp of air. This was it. “Remember that first night I stayed over and we stayed up until 4am just talking and laughing and sharing stories about our lives?” Phil’s eyes softened and he nodded, he was clearly very fond of the memory too. “That’s when I realised I was falling in proper love with you, and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. And at first I hoped, I prayed that it would go away but the truth is it’s just gotten worse, and so what I’m saying is I’m in love with you Phil, and I know you don’t feel the same way which is why I thought it would be for the best to distance myself from you, so that my stupid feelings would die. But it hasn’t done anything, it’s just upset both of us and God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Dan didn’t realise his hands were shaking until someone else’s warm pair reached out to steady them. “Dan, you are literally the biggest idiot alive right now.” What the fuck? Dan had just spilled the entire contents of his inner cocktail of turmoil and torturous feelings out, only to be responded to with this? He knew his feelings were stupid and Phil didn’t love him back.. but he didn’t need to be so harsh. Dan’s eyes began to well up and immediately he looked down, avoiding Phil’s gaze.

“Why do you think I haven’t dated anyone since we met? Why do you think I barely spend time with anyone but you? Why do you think, despite being almost 30 I choose to keep living with you? Dan, I’m in love with you too. I always have been.”

Dan’s heart dropped then soared in the matter of two seconds. “You do? Are you serious right now? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better are you, Phil?” He prayed his ears weren’t betraying him.

“Oh Dan, how could I not love you? You’re perfect. I didn’t say anything either for the same reason, I thought you would never love me back.” His pale fingers reached up to cup Dan’s face. His eyes very obviously flickered down to his lips.

“May I?”

Dan swore his brain and heart were malfunctioning, this was too much for them to handle. It was a miracle he made out a choked, “Y-yes.”

Phil closed the small gap between their lips immediately. His lips were soft and warm, just like Dan had imagined so many times. But this was real, so real he could smell the aftershave on Phil he loved so much, so real he could taste the sweetness of Phil on his own lips. It felt like a dream.

When they finally broke apart for air, Dan cut the silence with a typical sarcastic remark. “I mean, so I guess we should be boyfriends now. Like not that I care or anything just thought you might want to.” Phil rolled his eyes at him before pulling him close, “I guess we should.”

Later that night Phil held his boyfriend close, kissing the top of his head before drifting off to sleep. “You may be a low budget Teletubbies sun, but you are my low budget Teletubbies sun.” Dan snorted, before snuggling even further into his boyfriend’s warm chest.

#phan #phanfiction #phanfic fluff #fluff #friends to lovers #getting together #amazingphil #danielhowell #oneshot #fanfiction

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shslshortie · 7 years

Text

Okay I'm going to make a post because I can't deal with everything that got asked/shat out my way

I am sorry for this rant, but I am legit ready to leave tumblr again. Like I forgot why I hated it so much, but lord is this an unhealthy environment for so many reasons. Mainly, because of discourse/call out culture. And I'm obviously not talking about being "PC" or anything, but just being an all around mean spirited person if anyone says anything that either 1) doesn't agree with you/your views/your fandom, 2) if anything is even slightly false or not entirely fact-checked, or 3) goes against most popular opinions without writing an entire graduate-level thesis about why you believe your opinion/view/observation is valid. Like if you want to complain or voice an opinion about anything, or even joke about something that you think is funny, you could very likely almost immediately be called out or even be sent WAVES of hate that usually is completely undeserved. Especially since people are hiding behind a screen of anonymity or at least behind an online persona, they don't think about the person on the receiving end of it. They don't think how their mean spirited comments or backlash could effect them mentally, and they don't even stop to think what else could be going on in their lives. Yesterday, (was it yesterday? I think it was yesterday, but GOD was it a long fucking day if it was) I made some posts after recapping through the Rost. Cup after I watched each medalist's short and long, as well as all the US skaters, big names, and for the men and ladies, almost all 11 skaters honestly. I love figure skating, and NO, unlike a lot of people wrongfully assumed, am not a part of the "fandom" and did not get into it because of YOI. Was a passion reignited from like a barbeque level flame to a bonfire with YOI's help? Yes. But would it probably have gone to a similar level with the Olympic season going into full swing? Highly likely. But anyways, I made some posts because I wanted to voice some observations, complaints, and things I thought were funny because tumblr is the only place I ever really rant/voice theories/talk about a lot of my interests, since I don't have any irl friends who are interested in almost half of the things I am. So, tumblr is usually the place that I dump these feelings/thoughts. Sure, one of them was a little off-color, and posted without thinking, but after about an hour (and like 3-4 replies I think), I looked back on it, and realized it didn't need to be posted out there, even if I didn't mean it to be mean. Does this mean I owed every single person who "called me out" for being uninformed, or for being mean, or for being whatever the hell I am a reply? No. Did I know that some things were answered over Twitter, or weibo (sp?) or Reddit, or whatever other gd social media that I don't use? No. Does that man I am uniformed and spreading lies or whatever? I don't think so, and that doesn't make me a fucking villain. I also deleted it, because I realized I was wrong. End of story, part 1. But then, the figure skating fandom found some of my posts/commentary/rants. (god forbid they somehow find this and attack me ALL OVER AGAIN, except for y'all that were part of this whole issue. I hope y'all see this, because it's not like I blocked you. Except for one tumblr user who blocked me because of my post? Like you do you, except don't reblog my post and block me so I can't see what you said, presumably about how I am a terrible person). And apparently 1) if you insult/don't like/say Y***** H**** didn't do his best/were disappointed in him, or if you like the person who won over him more... Then you deserve to die. And 2) if you even make a post about YOI or other anime, you are a fake fan who knows nothing. And 3) even mirroring almost the exact words of sports (specifically figure skating) commentators in your posts means nothing? Like it OBVIOUSLY means that you are making up bullshit to hate on skaters that are popular and are misinformed, right??? Or if you say one thing that was similar to an APPARENTLY problematic broadcast group, that nothing (including any commentary from official other broadcasts, because GUESS WHAT: it's hard to find recordings of all of the programs and exhibitions with English commentary, and there are usually 3-4 networks that have it, and SO MANY people upload different ones to YouTube) else you say matters or has any merit. I haven't even read all of the hate mail and submissions I received from this debacle. My mental health can't take it. I literally woke up for school the next morning, saw my notifications and couldn't get myself to stop crying from the anger/upsetness/trauma/depressed thoughts that bubbled up with all of it, and I couldn't even get myself to go to class because I was so shaken. Like visibly, physically shaken, to the point where I couldn't think straight and I literally had tremors from how upset and unstable it made me feel. Tumblr should be a place where I can voice my opinion on something I am passionate about without all this hate. I literally have no other place. Right now, irl, I got dragged into drama (not mine, I swear, I was just a witness and got pulled into the mess) with my honor society, and the girl who started it all is trying to pit the entire organization against me. I can't post anything on my finsta, and God forbid I even tried to post anything in Facebook. (Not like I would). I am already in a very dark place mentally and emotionally because of the trauma this is putting me through, and how unwanted, useless and disgusting everybody is making me feel. I shouldn't be getting that from strangers who just decided to make my life even more miserable on top of it. Legitimately, out of the 30-40 comments/asks/replies/submissions I recieved, only one person even tried to realize where I was coming from or to educate me on what I had done wrong or missed in my analysis. But some of their wording just mirrored all the hate l had recieved, or even other things I had been told in real life that just made me cry even harder and I still can't bring myself to reply to even the person who was civil. My one big point to anyone who sees this is (besides don't be a dick/cyber bully/create and stir up unnecessary discourse) is don't assume that people don't know what they're talking about? Or don't assume that they are fake fans? And don't make people spell every letter of their opinion out for you in a 12 page thesis if it doesn't comply with the tumblr norm. Cuz here are some fun facts about me that I don't normally publicize / post about on tumblr: Yes, I am an anime fan, but Jesus Christ I love/am a huge fan of WAY more than I am in the fandom for. I am honestly only in like 4-5 anime fandoms. Same thing goes for other things I like, such as Harry Potter or marvel. I can like things, A LOT, and be passionate about them without being in the fandom. That doesn't mean I don't like it or I'm not knowledgable on the subject. That doesn't mean that I am an idiot for not knowing a fact/opinion/theory that has made its way around the fandom, that I'm not a part of. YES, I am a HUGE SPORTS FAN. It was legitimately also my fucking career (as a sports reporter/journalist/broadcaster). Do I post on tumblr about Baseball or Football or Hockey? Almost never. Does that make me any less of a fan, or does that make me any less knowledgeable about teams and rules? No. Does that mean that I didn't play/participate in almost every sport growing up? (baseball for 6 years, I still play Intermural football, tennis for 3 years, volleyball for 4, soccer for 1, swimming for like 5 years, I tried track, even karate and some other random stuff.) YES, I AM FUCKING KNOWLEDGABLE ABOUT PERFORMANCE SPORTS. I have participated/competed/trained/still watch almost every kind of performance sport. Of course color guard and marching band has been the longest, and the thing I was best at (7 years), but I grew up doing all kinds of dance and I still do lots of dance, as well as TONS of my own choreography. I've done baton and cheer for about 1-2 years each too. I did gymnastics for 4 years — was I very good? hell no. But do I know about it and appreciate it? Yes. SAME THING GOES FOR FIGURE SKATING. I only had like half a years worth of lessons, and like 3 routines that I ever finished and performed with figure skating, but that is because it is an expensive af sport, and I had way more activities and sports that I was better at, more passionate about learning, and were more accessible. BUT did I grow up going to figure skating shows like Disney on Ice or Stars on ice? Did that stop me from waiting in line for hours to get Michelle Kwan and other famous figure skaters autographs? No. Did that stop me from watching almost every single minute of the 2014 and 2010 Olympics? No. Do I still remember watching parts of the 2006 Olympics with my parents and absolutely being ENTHRALLED and wanting to do that too? YES. I still remember watching the 2014 Olympics from my aunt's house when I was staying on a cot in her living room because my mother was in the hospital and CRYING when I saw Y* H* perform, break world records, and win the gold. It was a sense of normalcy and awe because everything else going wrong in my life didn't matter while I was watching these amazing athletes perform. And GUESS WHAT, since I'm not really a part of the Figure Skating fandom (just like I'm not in the musical theatre fandom, or in anything regards to hair or makeup) I don't post about my own hype or plans regarding how excited I am for things to come out. So nobody here on tumblr, or almost ANYONE knew how excited I was for this upcoming Grand Prix season for the first actual competition of the Olympic season. I watched almost every challenger series video, as well as the autumn winter classic and competitions of the like. Even the JGPF events in anticipation. But guess what: I literally have a note on my phone that has all of Team USA's competition schedules, and their scores that they have gotten so far (like at the COR), along with a list of my favorite international skaters, and other new skaters to watch. I was so hype, so excited, and I thought that maybe, since figure skating had boomed in popularity, thanks in part to YOI (but also, helped people be more vocal and open about how much they love the sport even if ex already did) I would be able to discuss the excitement with other people. But no. Instead of being able to say "omg I'm so excited for blah blah blah, I hope they make the Olympic team. But I also love this show concept and this other persons costume, and you also can't count out blah blah blah" and being civil with conversation among other fans... They instead will say " wow you like blah blah blah? But you said this about them, and that offends me so you're wrong, and you forgot this tiny detail from 3 years ago, and you like anime so you OBVIOUSLY only care about figure skating because of YOI. Take your bandwagon fan bullshit away from me and go kill yourself". So now, I am staying the fuck away from the figure skating fandom, I've literally left half of my choreography untouched for almost 2-3 months, don't want to read/finish any of my YOI fanfics, and will probably even have a hard time watching Skate Can this weekend (even though like 6 of my favorite skaters are competing, and I was so excited before). Guess I'll just have to annoy my snapchat friends with videos of skating and me screaming because of skating. Fuck you tumblr, and I doubt I'll make any more original posts outside of APO planning and reblogs in the foreseeable future,

#figure skating #I don't care about other tags so oops oh well #fuck you FS fandom #you are ruining something I love #I literally have cried again while writing this #and I feel sick like I want to vomit #my self esteem is at a healthy -94 right now #shut up Dani #long post

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d-dumais-blog · 7 years

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Religious Symbolism in Kemono Friends

DISCLAIMER

I’m going to be discussing Kemono Friends and its comparisons to Christianity as I see them. I feel it’s only fair to provide a short disclaimer here at the top. For starters I mean no disrespect to those of faith. I realize that I’m comparing your lord and savior to a cute anime girl named bag chan, but I hope you’ll understand and appreciate these comparisons all the same. Second, I do not think this show is in anyway trying to convert children, or anyone for that matter, to any religion. I think that religion is used here as a guiding story structure. The writers of the show simply pulled from the best selling story of all time, the bible. Third, I’ll provide my personal context here at the top so you do not feel as a reader at any point that I’ve mislead you. I’ll be writing using the capitalized letters for God and Father and the like because it helps delineate that I am specifically referring to the proper noun name used in Christian stories and not referring to any other gods in other faiths. I am currently non religious and uncertain of my faith. I have however previously spent years working for the church in various capacities, and I spent time studying theology both in early schooling and into my college courses. I don’t write this article to try and change your mind about anything, or even to change how you think of this series. I simply thought my perspective and insight was interesting so I wanted to share it with you all. Lastly I’ll add that this was originally written at the end of March, but has been edited and posted here now since it never saw the light of day previously. With all that out of the way let’s fall down this rabbit hole together.

Kemono Friends is an exceptionally well developed children’s show that succeeds in creating an intelligently designed world where the story unfolds. I don’t simply use the term intelligent design without reverence and understanding of its meaning in a broader context. Intelligent design is a term used by Christianity in describing God’s creations and plan, and I believe at its core Kemono Friends draws heavily from Christianity in developing its themes and characters. At first glance when comparing the two my mind goes to the Old Testament stories of the Garden of Eden, where humans and animals cohabitate and communicate peacefully together. There’s even an Apple representing knowledge in the Library, but the apple has already been eaten and the ceruleans represent a clear and present danger that suggests the story must take place later on. I instead assert that the story of Kemono Friends is the story of the Gospels, the story of Jesus Christ himself, with Kaban acting as the savior or Messiah figure. Furthermore I believe the entirety of the Holy Trinity is present in the show: Kaban as the Son, Lucky Beast as the Holy Ghost, and Mirai as the Father. These connections vary in strength for these three, with Kaban’s comparisons to Jesus being the strongest and the focus of this blog post.

We’ll begin with our protagonist, Kaban and her similarities to Jesus. Kaban travels from area to area solving problems for the many Friends she encounters through her journey. Others describe her journey as heroic; they say she stops wars and builds bridges, and a certain amount of mythos begins to form around her. Though she is similar to the Friends, she knows that she is somehow different and ultimately her goal is to discover who she is, where she came from, and where she belongs. While these are all clearly analogous to the story of Christ, right down to performing “miracles” in the eyes of the Friends she encounters, they are also the traits and story of most great heroes. The writers behind Kemono Friends knew for Kban to be a true Christ like figure the similarities needed to go further, and further down the rabbit hole we shall go. Kaban is born from nothing and quite literally has an immaculate conception. It’s not until the final episodes that we finally see how Kaban entered this world. She’s a spherical ball of light that forms into a person as the safari hat falls on to it. There are no parents, hell there aren’t even any other humans near her when she bursts into existence. Her birth isn’t the result of science, of some experiment taking place on the island. Her birth into the world is a miracle. An unlikely savior is impossibly born into the world to travel across it helping those she passes, teaching where she can, and at the end, through self sacrifice saving them from the evil that is threatening their peaceful lives on the island. Her death and revival are also miraculous.

If Sin is the evil that Jesus died to save his followers from, then clearly the ceruleans represent that sin and evil. The ceruleans look to consume and destroy the light and the life of the world they inhabit. They eat Friends and return them to their “original” forms; in the series we are led to believe the Friends turn back into normal animals before the sandstar turned them into Friends, though this is never shown. Think about that for a second though, ceruleans, or in this context sin, comes and washes away the blessings given to the Friends that allow them to live and communicate effectively, reverting them back to more primal and basic animals without reason and understanding. In Kaban’s attempt to rid the world of this evil, she is forced to sacrifice herself in order to save Serval from the beast. She is swallowed up into the darkness where she remains for far longer than anyone. While inside the monstrous cerulean her body returns to a spherical ball of light, just as she was at her immaculate birth. When she is finally pulled from the darkness she transforms back into the girl all the Friends know and love. The giant cerulean is defeated and light begins to shine on the island once more. All the Friends assume that because her original form is human and she was never transformed into anything, being eaten by the cerulean didn’t affect her and that all humans must turn back into humans after being eaten. This assumption made by the Friends is of course false. Only the Messiah could be reborn after being eaten by darkness, and we know this because all other humans fled the park in fear of the ceruleans. If the ceruleans truly posed no danger to the humans there would be no purpose in evacuating, and more knowing figures, like Lucky Beast, would not have been frightened for Kaban. There are even contextual clues of a battle foguth between the humans and ceruleans in the form of abandoned weaponry and empty bomb shells. I think it’s fair to make the assumption these were used by humans against ceruleans because the show never introduces another threat, and it’s clear that the friends don’t know anything about these weapons cause they are never mentioned. In the final moments of the show Kaban leaves to go where she believes and hopes she belongs, off into the unknown across the ocean to a new island. If the first island represents our earth, covered in sin, then the new place she heads that is free from such hardship must be Heaven, and like Christ guiding his apostles, Kaban ventures forth with Serval and Friends close behind.

The next figure in the Kemono Friends Holy Trinity is Lucky Beast acting as the Holy Spirit. Beforew e get too deep I’ll admit these connections are far weaker than those of Kaban and Jesus, but this is fun so follow along and be willing to perform some mental gymnastics along the way please. In scriptures, the Holy Ghost is the omnipresent part of God that acts as the guide. Lucky Beast is very clearly the guide in this series, doing everything from driving the bus to explaining attractions and directions. Lucky Beast is also omnipresent because there are a countless number of Lucky Beasts spread across the various areas of the park that can all at once act together to accomplish a singular goal as shown by Lucky Beast gathering all of the Friends across the many areas in the final episode. Lucky Beast’s white colors are also reminiscent of the white dove the Holy Spirit embodies in scripture, though I admit this would be more evident if its shape was that of a dove, though perhaps that would be too on the nose. Similar to the Holy Ghost in the Bible, communication with Lucky Beast is facilitated through Kaban. Lucky Beast only ever communicates directly with Friends upon Kaban’s initial passing. The Holy Ghost is also seen in scriptures as the communicative vessel for the Father which in this series would be Mirai. Mirai speaks through and is eventually seen through the eyes of Lucky Beast, and it is through this connection we find out what little we do know about the only older figure in the entire series.

Mirai is the Father in the Trinity that is Kemono Friends. The connections here become even scarcer, which makes perfect sense. If Kemono Friends is the story of the Gospels, then it makes sense that the Father is rarely shown, because that is similar to the gospels in the Bible. The story of the father is written primarily in the Old Testament, and we’d need to see the prequel to Kemono Friends (oh please please please yes) if we’d like the full story on Mirai. Here I’ll try and break down what we do know. Mirai was part of the park staff, meaning she was part of the ruling body of the park in charge of attractions and Friends alike. To be more specific, she is the only known staff member of the park until Kaban assumes the responsibility in the final episodes of the show in order to overcome the ceruleans. We know that she was doing research on the sandstars and was responsible for the discovery, if not creation, of the Friends. She lived among the Friends until the ceruleans began consuming the island, just as the Father lived among humans in the Garden of Eden until sin took root. We also know that her hat is worn by kaban for the entirety of the show, and is the initial catalyst for kaban turning from a ball of light into the savior the world so desperately needs. She is more knowledgeable than any other character in the series and thus appears omniscient. She also embodies and represents the place Kaban feels she belongs, just as the Son must sit at the side of the Father, Kaban must go to be with Mirai. Mrai’s character helps embody both what is good about the show and faith. Her character isn’t fully understood, and the viewer is left thirsting for more knowledge. Just as Christians are taught that they do not understand God, they should want with all they have to be close to Him and to know Him better.

To recap, Kban is born from nothing and resembles the only known authority figure in the world. She sacrifices herself to protect her friends, comes back to life shortly there after, then ultimately succeeds in protecting her friends from harm. Lucky Beast is a guiding figure that only communicates through Kaban unless otherwise ordered by Kaban, and has information on Mirai. Mirai is the only known authority figure who is shown to be at least partially responsible for the creation of Friends, and is a ruling party over the park. I’m willing to put on my tin foil hat for this one! Hope you’ve been following along at home if not I’ve got a very easy to follow wall of notes that will help this all make sense.

Kemono Friends isn’t a show with a dark twist; it’s not a deconstruction of any existing genre. Kemono Friends is a kids’ show that tells the same story countless parents and preachers across the world have been telling children for centuries, the story of a savior that came to travel the world, a savior that made many friends, the story of a savior who loves her friends so dearly she will give herself to protect them from evil. Kemono Friends succeeds where other shows fall short because it is both extremely deep in its symbolism and themes, while remaining approachable and friendly towards children. It’s incredible that such a great show was born from such a troubled past. The series is based on a failed license. The phone game it draws inspiration from was shut down a month before the show began airing. The studio, Yaoyorozu, has yet to achieve critical or commercial success prior to this series. The entire staff is rather unknown, and they should be celebrated and heralded as the most unlikely of success stories. It seems unlikely that we’ll ever get to see the prequel Old Testament story of the park before ceruleans, and that might be sad, but ultimately it’s okay because the story told here is so complete and well done. I tip my hat to you Yaoyorozu, you’ve made a fan out of me.

PPPS. PPP is awesome just a pppublic service announcement

#kemono friends #anime #religion

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