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#someone salivating at the thought of getting one over on dead school kids: did you know we banned guns and now we don’t have gun violence wh
marisatomay · 3 years
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it’s so bizarre to watch non-americans talk at us about gun violence like we don’t know that we’re being held hostage by one line in a centuries-old piece of parchment. “have you thought about changing it?” no, we haven’t. you’re the first person to suggest it. congrats.
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Yandere Bully Jasper Hale X bullied Male Reader
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Warning: little violence, bullying, and a little smut. 
Requested from Peramess. 
Background: In this world vampires and humans live together in peace but vampires still mistreat humans because they are weaklings. Then this brings us to Jasper Hale he is the king of H/S/N. He bullies those that weak he likes to pick on one kid specifically... M/n. this goes on for a while until a new boy arrives at school. Jasper doesn’t like how you and him are close. Jasper had to ‘deal’ with Elijah.
M/N: Male name
L/N: Last name
H/S/N: High School Name.
Disclaimer: I have never seen twilight so my knowledge of it low. All I know is its about werewolves and vampires and a girl named Bella.
sorry if this is bad!
Word count: 2026
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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES
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*beep, beep, beep*
You heard your annoying alarm clock going off. “Ugh!” you turned off your alarm clock and got up. You see hints of the sun’s rays penetrating through the closed curtains. ‘New day, and more torture.’ 
You were bullied by Jasper Hale, the “Vampire King” of H/S/N. You didn’t understand why he was doing it, you weren’t weak like others. You do go to the gym and workout, but you weren’t strong as Jasper. 
After just staring at the corner for 5 minutes, you finally got up and began your daily routine. You emptied your blabber, bushed your teeth until they were crystal white, and you put on your uniform. 
After a few minutes some finalizations, you made your way downstairs, where you see your mother cooking her famous pancakes. “Good morning sweetie!” Your mother acknowledges your presence entering the kitchen. 
‘Hey mom,” you said with a tired voice. “You okay sweetie? You don’t seem excited.” Your mother asked worriedly. “I’m just tired. I just wanna go back to sleep.” you said, ‘If only she knew.’ You thought to yourself. “Oh okay, anyways breakfast is ready! Dig in!” your mother placed down a plate full of pancakes, bacon, sausages, and eggs with toast and milk on the side. Your mouth was salivating. “Thanks, mom.” 
After a few minutes of eating, you said goodbye to your mother and began walking to school. As you were walking, you began to take in the sights before entering prison- school. 
You began to the building appear in the distance. When you entered, you were met with a kick to the leg. “Ahh.” you fell onto the concrete floor, you looked you see the same blond-haired guy that made your life a living hell, Jasper Hale. (is that blond hair?) 
“Well, well, well look at what we got here.” you heard him say clearly mocking you. “Well, you need to get your daily beating.” You were now scared, nobody was coming to aid you. Everyone was afraid of what might happen to them. You felt pain spread throughout your body as they kicked. 
The bell ring and the kicking stopped. “I’ll be back later to finish what we started.” Jasper whispered into your ear before leaving with his gang. You stayed there for minutes before attempting to get back up.
While you were getting up, you see a hand in front of you. You looked up and see an unfamiliar person. ‘Who is he?’ You questioned. You just stared at his hand before finally taking it. 
“You okay? You looked pretty beat up.” this stranger said. “Yeah, I’m okay this happens daily,” you replied not caring about how he would respond. “If you say so,” he responded. “So are you new here or something? Cause I have never seen you around,” You asked curiously. “Oh, yes. Yes, I am new. And I was wondering if you knew where this class is?” he asked handing you his schedule. You looked over and he had the same classes as you. “We both have the same classes. I can show around if you want,” you offered him. “Okay, let’s get going!”
“By the way, what’s your name?” You asked wanting to get to know him, ‘He could be my first friend!’ you thought excitedly. “Elijah. Elijah Wilson. Nice to meet you. what’s your name?” he now asked you the same question. “Oh, umm M/n. M/N L/N…” you replied nervously since this was your first time having a normal conversation. “Nice to meet you M/N! Now I feel like we should get going.” He replied in a friendly tone. ‘Maybe he isn’t that bad.’ “Yeah, let’s get going,” you replied with a smile on your face. 
“So you have trigonometry for the first period! Come on let me show you where it is.” You said walking in the direction of both you’re first-period class. “Ugh, trigonometry?! Why is math my first-period class!” Elijah said annoyed, while you laughed at him.  
Time skip (4 minutes)
After walking for 4 minutes you and Elijah both made it to class. Once you open the door everybody stared at you. “You’re late!” your teacher said aggravated that you interrupted her class. In the corner of your eye, you can Jasper be chuckling and smirking along with everybody else. That was when Elijah made himself noticed after walking in. Now everybody’s attention was on him. 
“Ahh, you must the new student right?” “Yes, I am. my name is Elijah Wilson,” Elijah replied timidly. “Alright, class Elijah will be joining our class and treat him with respect. Do you need someone to show you around?” Your teacher asked trying to get this over with. “No, M/N said he’ll show me around,” Elijah replied. “Okay, M/N you will show him around! Now… take your seats.” the teacher demanded. 
You went to your seat while Elijah followed you and took his seat next to you since no one wanted to. Everybody was looking at you both, some with a look of pity, and the others just a look of fear of what was going to happen. Jasper was fuming at this and everybody could feel his anger, he just glared at Elijah the whole time. 
Time skip (30 minutes later)
The bell rang signaling that class is over and its time to move to the next class. You packed your things and waited for Elijah at the door. While you were waiting you got for Elijah, you got punched in the back and kicked in the leg, then you felt someone pulling your hair. You looked and wouldn’t you know it, it was Jasper with a furious look on his face. He was about to continue until someone stepped in.
“Hey stop that!” Elijah yelled, gaining the attention of everyone in the hallway. “Or what? What are going to do, you weak human.” Jasper said with venom, he let go of your hair and began to walk towards Elijah. Elijah walked forward as well. Jasper was about to punch Elijah but he quickly dodges and landed a punch on Jasper. Then the fight happened, you were just standing there shocked. 
They were both beaten up but Jasper seems to be more injured. ‘How is he doing this?! Jasper is a vampire! He’s human?!’ You thought to yourself as you were confused. Jasper was the first to put out. “Gasp.” everybody gasped. ‘Jasper never backed down!’ you too were shocked. 
After it was over you got up and went to aid Elijah. “Come on we need to get to the nurse’s office.” You helped a very bruised Elijah up and made your way to the office. While you were walking, Jasper was just staring at your back. ‘You’ll be mine M/n…’ 
Time skip (5 minutes)
You knocked on the door. No one answered. You decided to just enter anyways. “Looks like the nurse isn’t here. Go get on the bed and I’ll get the bandages.” you got the bandages and the alcohol from one of the cabinets. You both sat there in silence until Elijah asked something personal… 
“Why don’t you have many friends?” you stopped what you were doing and just looked at him. “I’m sorry if I offended you,” Elijah apologize. “No don’t worry, you didn’t offend me.” it went back to being quiet until you man up and told him what happen. “If you’re wondering why I don’t have many friends… (you paused for a moment) My friends went missing. I don’t know what happened to them,” you said while tears began to pour out of your eyes. You felt Elijah hug you whispering, “It’s alright.”
Jasper was looking in through the window of the door. Jealousy and anger raged through his veins. 
Time skip (2 months later)
You and Elijah have grown close. Jasper for some reason stopped bullying you, now all he does is stare at you, but you paid no attention to it.
It was the end of the school day and you said your goodbyes to Elijah and began your walk home. While you were walking you felt like someone was watching you. 
You heard footsteps behind and you decided to walk faster the figure behind also began to walk faster. Before you know it, you ran trying to get away from this unknown person. But in the end, this unknown figure caught you and pulled you into an alleyway. 
This hooded figure pulled out a cloth with chloroform on it and put it onto your nose. You tried your best not to inhale it but failed. You passed out. 
You woke up and see that you’re chained to the wall. You began to panic, you looked around trying to see you’re surrounding. In the corner of the room you… Elijah chained up to the wall as well. “Elijah!” you called out to him but he didn’t respond. You heard footsteps coming down into the basement. You looked at the entrance and you see…… Jasper. 
“Jasper?! You did this!” You yelled with anger. “Watch that mouth of your sweetheart.” when he said you were flabbergasted. ‘Sweetheart?!?!’ “Sweetheart?! One, why are you calling me that, and two, what did you do to Elijah?!” when I said Elijah’s name, his face changed immediately. ‘Bipolar much.’ 
“Elijah, Elijah! It always about him! Why?!” He said with resentment. “Why?! Because you bullied me every day! Elijah was the only one who actually stood up for me and stood up to you!”  you yelled back at him. After you said that he just looked at you before making a move. “You wanna see what I did to Elijah?! Here have a look!” With that said Jasper throws the dead body of Elijah. You screamed at the sight, his eyes were ripped out and his fingers were ripped off as well. Also, his blood was drained. 
Jasper just laughs at your expression. “Wanna know why his eyes and fingers are ripped off? Because he looked at you. His fingers? He touched you.” you were screaming at how calm he was. While you’re crying out your tears, Jasper began to step closer. 
He grabbed the chains raising you up. He grabbed your wrist pulling you closer and tilt your head to the other side. Jasper began to lick your neck trying your sweet spot, he put his hand over your mouth so you wouldn’t make a sound. “Mmm.” you whimpering until…
“Ahhhh!” you felt fangs penetrating your skin. “Mmm.” Jasper was sucking your blood. He then stopped and began to whisper in your ear. “You taste delicious. Better than that scumbag’s blood. You taste so sweet,” Jasper whispered in your ear while also licking it and biting. 
He went back to sucking your blood in the same location. You passed out from blood loss but before you did, you heard him say something. “You’ll make the best bride.”
Time skip (5 months. 5 months since you went missing.)
“You may now kiss the bride.” Jasper immediately grabbed you and kissed you. “We are now married. Now you’ll be mine forever. Nobody will come to save you. Dead is the only thing that will divide us…”
How did this happen? It started off as Jasper bullying you, now it ends with your Bully marrying you. 
You’re his and he’ll never let you go. 
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xmagicxshopx · 4 years
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Love Bytes - Prologue
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Genre: Fantasy, Adventure, Romance, Mild Angst, Slice of Life Rating: PG-13 (M for future smut) Warnings: none for the prologue Pairing: Jungkook x reader, Taehyung x oc (Ebony) Notes: vampire!bts. Not idol!bts. Other groups might appear. Single quote marks ‘ ‘ are for thoughts and double “ “ are for talking. Additional Notes: to get an understanding of the boys, you might want to click on the link below that says meet the clan~
Tagging: @grxnadxs​
Summary: They say if it’s too good to be true, it usually isn’t. You and your roommate Ebony are struggling. But that may soon be over with the help of seven men that call themselves Bangtan. But there’s always a catch, right? Being two maids to seven men can’t be all that bad, though.
MASTERLIST || MEET THE CLAN
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In an abandoned location somewhere in South Korea, seven young men who also just happened to be vampires, found themselves staring on with pride as they took in the sight of their new home.
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“Not too shabby if I do say so myself.”
“You? What did you do besides make a better paperweight?”
“Hey----It’s called delegating. It’s an important job, thank you very much.”
Namjoon found himself subconsciously scratching at his head as he side glanced his older brother Jin. The two were watching the pair of fellow vampires as they bickered back and forth. Yoongi, who had been called the paperweight, was insisting that he contributed to the reconstruction of the abandoned mansion while Taehyung felt otherwise. Of course it was all in good fun. Everyone truly had put in their fair share of effort into bringing the old structure back to it’s former glory.
It was perfect for them, really.
It fit their old fashioned taste and yet they were able to revamp where it was needed. Jin insisted that the kitchen be completely upgraded with stainless steel modern appliances but Jungkook wanted to keep some of the character it held. The common room was modernized with a huge flat screen smart TV to make it look more like an every day living room. Not to mention there was at least three different gaming consoles for family nights.
After assessing all the original rooms in the place, they were able to knock out some walls here and reconstruct walls there and once it was all said and done, each vampire had his own bedroom with an en suite bathroom. Jungkook, being the resident laundry fairy, got dibs on deciding where the laundry room would be. The others gave him whatever he wanted because one, they appreciated him doing the laundry. And two, he was their baby boy who got everything he wanted.
Since some of the boys enjoyed swimming laps as a form of exercise, it was decided that they would have not only an indoor pool, but an outdoor pool as well for in the summertime. Because believe it or not, the Bangtan Clan was a different breed of vampires. But we’ll get to that later.
Namjoon, with his love for all things nature, took it upon himself to rid the estate of all the overgrown weeds and other trash that had floated cross country into their territory. In its place, he had planted various flowers and shrubs along with various fruit trees. Again, not your typical run-of-the-mill vampires. Ever heard of a fruit bat???
“Welp. Now that all of that is done, who’s gonna be the designated house maid that keeps this place spic ‘n span?”
With a bright, boxy smile and hands on his hips, Taehyung turned to the rest of his clan and gave them an expectant look. They all gave him about the same blank look in return as some of them even blinked slowly in thought. Clearing his throat, Jin took a step forward with a hand over his chest as he said casually,
“I’m the cook so don’t look at me.”
“And I’m already doing laundry for everyone so count me out.”
“And I’m allergic to cleaning supplies.”
Everyone gave Yoongi a deadpanned look as he just shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets before proceeding to take a walk inside their new home. It would seem the Bangtan clan was at a standstill. Sure, they had put in tons of money and time and hard work into restoring the mansion, but did the world really expect 7 bachelors to maintain the place and keep it clean and tidy??? Naaaah.
“We could always just hire some people to help around the house and keep it clean. It’s not like we don’t have the money. The Bullet phones are a huge hit with our latest release of updates.”
Jhope was right, they weren’t exactly low on cash flow. You see, Bangtan has been around for a long long time. Dating back from centuries when gentleman with manners were the real men of the world. But over time, the world changed and Bangtan had to try and keep up with those changes. However, they always stayed true to themselves. Boys will be boys but they could and would remain as gentlemen with manners and be humble.
With the world changing and some of the most popular material items being these things called cell phones, the boys knew they had to do something or else they were going to fall behind and fall victim to their own old fashioned ways. So after several years of schooling in computer science and business management, the seven young men were able to join together and create what the modern world now knows as the Bullet phone. A cell phone ahead of it’s time. Hence why they aren’t hurt for money.
“Good point. Perhaps it’s something we should look into.”
And so that’s how the group of men agreed that for now, they’d do their best to try and keep the place as tidy and clean as they could till they could find some hired help willing to put up with seven young men.
As the others began to trickle back inside to get settled into their new home, Taehyung walked up beside the youngest of the clan and gently put him in a headlock. Which of course he knew was stupid because despite being the youngest, Jungkook was also the strongest.
“Wanna go grab some pizza for the guys so that Jin hyung doesn’t have to cook on our first night settled in?”
Easily overpowering his older brother, Jungkook swiftly managed to put Taehyung in a headlock as if he had done so a million times before while he replied with a cocky smirk,
“Yeah sure. Considering as how we have no food in the first place and Namjoonie hyung has only just now planted the fruit trees.”
After the two were done rough housing around with each other, they quickly went inside to inform their older brothers that they were going to grab some pizzas and other snacks from town. Immediately the older men relayed their own special requests which left Jungkook playing the Golden Secretary as he jotted it all down on his phone.
“Alright. We’ll be back shortly.”
Not really having a need for a vehicle but deciding it would be best to look normal and blend in with society, they decided to hop in Jungkook’s car and head to town. Vampire or not, with their popular status of being the young geniuses behind the Bullet phones, it was still going to be difficult to blend in with society. But they’d do their best as they parked their expensive car on the street.
“Okay so Jin hyung specifically asked for------”
Taehyung was just about to ask his little brother if he was okay before he too suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. It was evening and the middle of the workweek so not many people were walking the streets but something, or rather someone, had caught the two boys attention.
But......it just didn’t seem possible. For years it had went on like this without a trace and now suddenly......it’s happening. The legends that their Namjoon hyung had talked about when they were just fledglings was real. Before it was just a bedtime story but now......it was suddenly very real.
“What does yours smell like, Kook?”
“Bananas. I think I’m salivating. Oh god. What about yours, hyung?”
“Fresh cut strawberries.”
Both males took one look at each other before starting to follow the scent of their favorite fruit. This was crazy. Just absolutely crazy. It was supposed to be a myth. Just a fairy tale told to young vampires of their kind to help them have good dreams at night. However, it didn’t seem like such a fairy tale now that they were walking like they were two men on a mission to find the holy grail.
“Mine went this way. You text me, maknae!”
“I will, hyung! Good luck!”
“You too, kid!”
Taehyung used his amazing sense of smell to help him track down where the strong scent of strawberries was coming from. In all his years of consuming the juicy red fruits, he had never smelled any quite like this. It was like someone had took the freshest strawberries ever to be grown and shoved them under his nose. It nearly knocked him out when he had first gotten out of the car.
By now, he had wandered several blocks away from their vehicle and was on a much quieter part of town. Then again, it was getting late. The sun was still out but dusk was quickly approaching. That worked for him. The sun wasn’t painful but it tended to give him a dull headache if he stood out in direct light for too long.
The scent was getting stronger and it only made the handsome young male walk faster. Soon enough, he found himself staring at the storefront of what appeared to be an old antique bookstore that someone tried to remodel and revamp but had little success. This was it. He could smell the scent rolling from under the door in waves.
His mate was through this door.
Jungkook lost all sense of direction and time as he simply kept following the scent. Gosh it was so strong he could taste it! It tasted like the best carton of banana milk he had ever had in his life! Trying not to choke on his own drool, he sped up in pace when he could tell the scent was getting stronger and stronger. It’d be real fun to try and find his car later. But that was the least of his worries right now.
What felt like hours but was really only about 20 or 25 minutes, the young male halted in his tracks as he came across what appeared to be a modest looking diner. The neon lights had just turned on as the sun was continuing to set. Subconsciously licking his lips, Jungkook slowly approached the door to the diner and opened it; hearing the little bell chime of his arrival.
“Good evening! Will it be for here or to go?”
“Bloody hell.”
It was you. With your bright smile turning into a confused one as you heard the two words he mumbled under his breath. God you were beautiful. Your hair all tied up to keep it out of customers’ food and that cute frilly apron that made you fit the cookie cutter diner waitress role to a T. You were perfect.
And you were his. All his.
“Hello. Welcome to Shin’s Bookstore. Is there anything I can help you find?”
Taehyung stood there at the front register where she sat. Her. The girl who smelled like fresh cut strawberries. She was just sitting there with her laptop but to the male, she was like a goddess sitting on her pedestal of perfection. He knew his mouth was hanging open but there was nothing he could do about it. So captured by her beauty he was that it left him completely immobile.
The guys weren’t going to be getting their pizza any time soon tonight.
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madamslayyy · 5 years
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Log Cabin And A Brewing Fire VIII
Pairing: Nebraska Williams (Trevante Rhodes) x Reader
Warnings: This is a SLOW BURN FIC. I’m going at what I believe is a realistic place via my perception. I know y’all want some steam but this is SLOW BURN. Please checkout my Masterlist for other works if you’re looking for a little raunchiness.
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A/N: To everyone I trolled yesterday, April Fools! (Except it’s not April) I’m definitely finishing this series, just had to make y’all sweat a little bit 😂😘 If you haven’t caught up on the previous chapters, check them out here via MY MASTERLIST.
Also I usually put this at the bottom of the Chapter but I don’t think people actually read that so I’m putting it here, if you want to be tagged, THIS POST will tell you how. Please don’t come to my inbox asking or leaving it on the chapters because I always forget to check and I feel so guilty leaving people out when they ask or accidentally ignoring them.
Anyway I’ve rambled long enough, love y’all and hope y’all enjoy this.
~*~
“Training Day again, Mr. Williams?” Nebraska’s students whined.
“It’s either that or run laps.” He grinned.
“It’s too cold to run laps. And it’s snowing outside. Aren’t there like... child labor laws or something?” One of his students asked.
“Could always make you guys run laps inside until 12:00. You all prefer that?” Nebraska grinned at the chorus of “No’s” coming from his class.
“Alright, Training Day it is,” Nebraska put on the film and retreated to his office. Today was the last day of school before Thanksgivings break. It was the Tuesday before the holiday and the students were only required to attend a “Half” day before being dismissed at noon.
You actually had the entire week off for the holiday and were planning on going to see your Aunt and Uncle this week. Nebraska has insisted you go on alone and enjoy your time with your family but you had refused.
“I’ll only go if you’re going. No one should be alone during the holidays.”
In these last couple of weeks Nebraska thought he’d been doing a pretty good job distancing himself from you. The two of you no longer slept in the same bed together, he was careful not to get too close to you when the two of you had to be around each other and even then he kept that to a minimal. The two of you rarely ever saw eachother and he was trying to keep it that way.
You, on the other hand, had a different idea. It seemed like the more he retreated, the more you would seek him out. You were determined not to let things get weird between the two of you. Nebraska wasn’t sure if it was out of pity that you were still being so nice to him after his screw up but he knew it only served to further his guilt.
Nebraska used the hour or so he had left to grade papers and before he knew it, the bell rang at noon and his students began filing out the classroom. He walked out his office to stop the movie and put up the equipment. That was one thing he actually did love about teaching the JROTC students, they were typically pretty well behaved. Nebraska was also sure it was because the other coach, Colonel McNeal, even in his old age, had put the fear of god in these kids.
Nebraska was almost through with his stack of papers he’d been grading and decided to finish it out before leaving so that was one less thing to grade during the break.
“Knock Knock,” Tonya peeped her head in through the door before coming in fully and taking a seat.
“Ah I thought you’d be halfway to St. Mary’s by now,” Nebraska chuckled. St. Mary’s was the elementary school her sons attended.
“Well the boys’ father have them today and tomorrow but Mama gets Thanksgiving,” she grinned, showing all thirty two of her nearly perfect teeth.
“Always good to get a little peace and quiet before the holidays,” Nebraska nodded.
“Amen to that. Which actually brings me to my next point. I know you’re new in town and single and I would hate for a nice guy such as yourself to be alone for Thanksgiving. What do you say to coming to my house for Thanksgiving? You could even stop by the night before, help me do a little Pre-dinner Turkey stuffing,” Tonya offered cheekily and Nebraska knew exactly where she was going with this. Again.
“Thanks for the... um... generous offer T, but I won’t be alone for the holidays, I have Y/N,” Nebraska said trying to let her down as gently as possible.
“Y/N? I didn’t know you two were so.... close,” Tonya said, her smile faltering.
“Yeah we’re driving down to see her Uncle. He was... actually still is... my Lieutenant. Anyway we’re just gonna stay with them for the holiday,” Nebraska smiled but the atmosphere was awkward. It was awkward every time he had to reject her but she was persistent to say the least.
“I see. Well I’ll get out of your hair. Gotta get going to the store before all of the good Turkeys are gone,” she laughed dryly before exiting his office.
“Enjoy your break, T,” he called as she made her hasty getaway.
~*~
Nebraska awoke with a start. He glanced over from his position in the passengers seat to see you, your eyes in deep concentration of the road ahead. He yawned and your face relaxed a bit from its focused contortion as you were made aware of his wakefulness.
“Morning sleeping beauty,” you chuckled. Nebraska glanced at the clock in the car and it read 12:34.
“That late huh?” He said sitting up.
“Yeah but the plus side is we’ll be there in half an hour.”
“I was out for that long? Sheesh,” Nebraska scoffed.
“Well you had been at work all day. I was snoozing the whole time.” You said in that melodic voice of yours. How were you this chipper even in the dead of night?
~*~
The two of you continued on the road until finally making it to your Uncle and Aunt’s home. It was well after 1 a.m. so you and Nebraska did your best to sneak in quietly. You were grateful they still kept a spare key in a potted plant just in case someone ever got locked out.
You and Nebraska creeped upstairs and made it to your room, it seemed, without being detected.
“Sheesh, I’m exhausted,” you said stretching out on your bed. Nebraska came in afterwards, carrying your luggage and his because he was still ever the gentleman.
“There’s a-“ Nebraska’s sentence was cut off by your bedroom door swinging open to reveal your Uncle carrying a steel baseball bat, eyes alert.
“Uncle RayRay!!!” You squealed jumping up to hug the man.
“Do you all have any idea what time it is? We weren’t expecting you to get here until Wednesday,” he croaked. He had clearly just woken up.
“It is Wednesday. And we wanted to get ahead of the traffic,” you pointed out.
“Well you nearly gave Mabel a heart attack. Williams, good to see you, boy. Let me show you to your room,” He said indicating for Nebraska to follow him.
“You as well, sir” Nebraska said, following your Uncle, his luggage in hand.
You had never really thought about it but you’d always just assumed Nebraska would stay in the same room as you, just like at home. Then it dawned on you, your Uncle had no idea how bad Nebraska’s sleeping patterns were. You thought maybe you should mention it but there was no way he’d willingly allow you and Nebraska in the same bed without a marriage certificate between you two. He was old fashioned that way.
So you reluctantly just resigned to your bed alone, the exhaustion from driving sending you immediately into slumber before you even had a chance to unpack.
~*~
The next morning you came downstairs to none other than your Aunt’s amazing home cooked breakfast. She was hovering over the stove still making Breakfast while Nebraska and your Uncle were seated at the table, already eating.
“So nobody was gonna wake me up?” You yawned, taking your seat next to Nebraska.
“Figured you’d be out til dinner the way you sleep,” your Aunt said putting down your breakfast in front of you. French toast, sunny side up eggs and her special fried hash browns. Your mouth began to salivate just looking at it.
“Thank you MaeMae,” you said, digging in. Breakfast carried on peacibly but you kept glancing over at Nebraska. He seemed tired, and quiet. Well he was always quiet but a little more than usual. Maybe he was a little uncomfortable here. The last time he saw his General, he had put a bullet through his brain. He never told you the reason why because you two never talked about it but you’d bet Raynard knew. And that’s probably what made it so awkward.
“Alright now Y/N I got a list here for you of things I need done today. I need you to run by the store and pick up some...” Your Aunt Mabel began naming off the various ingredients she still needed for Thanksgiving tomorrow and the other chores she’d assigned you for today. Even though you were an adult, she still believed in putting you to work.
“There. That shouldn’t be too tough,” she said finishing the list of tasks and handing it to you, “Maybe you could take that quiet fella with you, he’s pretty big, he can help you carry some of that stuff.”
“Oh Nebraska probably doesn’t wanna be bothered running errands with me,” you said shrugging off the notion.
“Sure I do,” Nebraska was on the other side of the kitchen leaning against the counter. Both you and your Aunt jumped in surprise, neither of you having heard him even enter the room.
“Good lord boy, anybody ever told you about sneaking up on an old woman! About to give me a heart attack,” Mae said clutching her chest.
~*~
“Why do we need so many flowers, again?” Nebraska asked as he watched the florist load bundle after bundle of fresh cut flowers into your car.
“Mae takes any holiday when family comes over serious. One time she ordered over 20 preplanted trees for Arbor Day. Ended up giving them away as party favors as everyone left.” You said smiling at the memory.
“So it’ll be pretty packed tomorrow, huh?” Tre said watching the florist load the last bundle into the car.
“You have no idea.���
~*~
You couldn’t sleep. You’d tried everything from drinking tea to counting sheep but your body just couldn’t seem to fall into restful bliss without a certain burly figure wrapped around you.
You’d thought about going to see what he was doing, if he was still up but you refrained, not wanting to bother him.
He’d been... weird about things since the camping trip, even tried sleeping in his own bed again but you’d eventually broke him down by acting as if nothing had changed. That was a lie though, everything had changed. Where you merely acknowledged his attractiveness before, you now ached at the sight of him. The mere thought of his lips, so soft and inviting, was enough to send you into a frenzy. When his hand was on your stomach you could practically feel the strength beneath his fingers. You often thought of his strength and stamina. Fantasized about it actually. Fantasized about him getting rough with you, throwing you around before returning to his default sweet nature, making up for it in every possible way.
You were interrupted mid-daydream (or night dream since it was a little past 11p.m.) by a round of small knocks at the door followed by Nebraska peeking his head in.
“You still up?” He asked. You nodded and he came all the way in, closing the door behind him and leaning against it.
“Mind if I join you?” He asked and you felt that familiar shimmer in your stomach as your insides intertwined.
“Of course,” you said a bit breathlessly. He crawled in next you and it was actually a bit... awkward.
“I missed you,” you quipped, interrupting the silence. A goofy grin instantly broke out across Nebraska’s face, which he tried to hide via scratching the back of his head and looking away.
“I, uh, gotta admit I feel the same,” now it was your turn to be bashful.
“Why are we acting like we never see each? Like we didn’t just spend the last two whole days together?” You giggled and Nebraska smirked.
“I guess this is..... different, you know.... more... physical....” he was staring at your lips and you unconsciously bit your lip in response. That seemed to break his trance and he glanced up, a look of guilt marring his perfect features.
“I should probably-,” he said shifting away from you to stand up.
“Nebraska please, don’t...go,” your arm was now wrapped around his chest in an attempt to keep him from leaving. He was so warm, the curls of his chest hair tickling your fingers. His muscles were tense, you could feel them flex beneath you.
“I need you...” you whispered and that’s when the dam broke between the two of you. Nebraska pivoted in your arms, crashing his lips to your own. This wasn’t the same kind of kiss as in the woods. This was something completely different; something hungry and desperate. You could feel him still holding back so you decided to go all in, returning the smooch tenfold, both hands leaving their position at his torso to cup his face.
“Y/N...” he moaned, you felt like you might pass out. His hands latched themselves to your hips, pulling you into his lap. Your hands shifted from his jaw to his shoulders in order to steady yourself, pulling him even closer, meeting his eagerness with your own.
“Take thi- shit,” he moaned as you perched your full weight onto his lap, his already awakened member there to greet you.
“Too much? Am I too heavy?” You asked, beginning to rise from his lap only to have him pull you back down.
“No, you’re perfect babygirl. More than perfect,” he began kissing down your neck, his teeth grazing against the base of your neck hard enough to bruise.
You were melting beneath his touch. He was so quiet and reserved in his daily life so to be succumbed to his passion in such a raw and unfiltered way made your head swim. You never thought a man of his beauty, candor, and strength would look twice at someone like you yet here he was, your touch alone powerful enough to leave him a moaning, whimpering figure of lust beneath you. It gave you a surge of confidence you’d never quite experienced in the bedroom before.
“Take this off,” Nebraska said tugging at your night shirt. That’s when you remembered you weren’t wearing a bra. Meaning you’d be completely exposed to him, pooch, rolls and all.
“Hey, it’s just us here, okay?” He said pecking your lips when he sensed your hesitation.
“O-okay. Can you get the light?” You nodded towards the lamp on you side desk next to your bed.
“As long as I’ve been dreaming about this moment? No way, I gotta see you,” Nebraska said biting his lips, his eyes gazing over you with pure karnal lust. Your stomach fluttered.
You took your shirt off and he was immediately in awe. He gently took one soft mound in his hand, plopping your already hardened nipple into his mouth. Your nails dug into his shoulders as his tongue swirled around the sensitive flesh. Nebraska smirked at your obvious arousal, the vision of his pristine white teeth against your brown areola was almost a work of art.
When he began to go for the other nipple you pushed him back gently, crawling off his lap but he swiftly pulled you back on.
“Where are you going?
“Shhh... just relax,” you said and he finally let you go, allowing you to maneuver yourself between his legs, pulling his boxers down. His swollen member sprang free of the fabric and for a second you thought you might be hallucinating. He was certainly bigger than any man you’d ever been with, and his girth definitely looked more delectable, the pigment from his shaft to his head all one even color that matched the ebony complexion of his skin.
“You were hiding... all this... this whole time?” Your eyes were fixated on his throbbing length.
“Didn’t think you would care either way,” Nebraska said in a breathy voice. You gazed into his brown eyes in utter disbelief before returning to the task at hand.
You kissed your way up his thighs slowly to tease him, dragging your nails lightly along the sensitive area. His dick jumped in excitement.
He was already leaking precum, the head glistening with his essence. You gripped his base and feathered kisses up his shaft, teasing his head with your tongue. The second you took his tip fully into your mouth, he shuddered, gripping the bedsheets for dear life.
“Relax, Braska, let me take care of you,” you said in what you hoped was a ‘sultry’ voice. It had been a while since you’d gave a man head and you were racking your brain, trying to make sure there wasn’t anything you forgot with the inexperience of time.
You slurped him from base to tip, taking your time to get it extremely wet so your hand could pump him easily. You made sure to spit on it just for extra measure and you swore you saw Nebraska’s eyes roll into the back of his head.
You took him into your mouth and immediately hollowed your cheeks, sucking his over sensitive tip while pumping his base. You alternated between this motions and deep throating him as far as you could take him, making quite the show of gagging on his incredible length. You traveled down further, making sure to not to forget his scrotum, sucking one half and then the other while your hands handled the main attraction.
Where Nebraska was tembling before, he was a blubbering mess now, moaning your name along with a string of curse words as he chased his own pleasure. He took one hand and brought it to the back of your head, guiding you back to his swollen tip. You knew he couldn’t keep his orgasm at bay for much longer so you switched into full concentration mode, paying close attention to what would get him over that edge. His hand on the back of your head was gripping you so tight, you thought he might snatch your headscarf off.
“Shit, Y/N, don’t stop. Please, baby, right there, right there,” he begged and you made sure to adhere to him. Right as he was about to explode in your mouth, he grabbed himself and took it out, opting instead to nut on your face. You graciously accepted his release , the warm essence coating your face. You couldn’t help but giggle as he smeared some of it across your lips with his head, tapping the semi-firm member against them.
“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Nebraska asked out of breath. You shrugged as you got up to go wash your face.
You’d were in the middle of wiping off his ‘gift’ when he followed right after you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.
“Nebraska, I gotta wash my face and brush my teeth,” you cooed, grabbing a clean face towel and your night routine face wash. Nebraska turned your head to the side, capturing your lips in one of the slowest, sloppiest kisses you’d ever experienced, emphasizing his tongues presence in your mouth as a ‘Thank You’. When Nebraska finally let your lips go he continued clinging to you, only unwrapping himself once so that he could clean off his own member.
Once the two of you were clean, you took to bed. Nebraska, in a position much similar to earlier, engulfed you in himself, peppering you with kisses until he fell asleep. You fell asleep soon after, still not a hundred percent sure if what had just transpired was real or a dream.
~*~
You woke up noticeably cold. And alone. You glanced over to the other side of the bed to find it empty. That wouldn’t be that unusual any other morning but then the events of last night came flooding back to you. You couldn’t believe how brazen you’d been with him last night and the embarrassment immediately came crushing in.
Also why wasn’t he here? There wasn’t a single sign he’d ever been here. Even back home it was unusual for Nebraska to just silently wake up and creep out like a thief in the night. He probably came to his senses about you last night, which is why he’d ran for the hills.
What more could he possibly want anyway? You’ve already sucked him off. He doesn’t need to entertain you anymore. He got what he came for.
You tried to shake the negative thoughts from your head as you hopped in the shower but they were incessant.
What if he was in a relationship with Tonya. You were so desperate for him last night, you hadn’t even thought to ask. What if you made him a cheater because you couldn’t control yourself around him and just had to jump at the chance to show him you could be a slut. What would he want with one of those anyway when he has a woman like Tonya waiting for him back home.
As you walked down stairs you saw Nebraska moving tables with your Aunt supervising. You couldn’t bare to make eye contact with either of them. It didn’t matter because Mabel heard you anyway
“Y/N! About time you woke up girl, I need you to run down to Annie Sinclair’s- you remember Miss Sinclair don’t you? I need you to runs down to her place and pick up the four Pecan Pies she was supposed to have delivered yesterday,” Mabel said scribbling down the address. You nodded and grabbed your keys, leaving without a word. You didn’t notice Nebraska’s intense eyes longingly look after you as you left.
~*~
By the time you returned back home with your Aunt’s pies, there were cars filling up the driveway and parked on the street out front.
You carried them in but the kitchen was full of different dishes, along with her cooking and you had no where to put them. You sat them down on the dining table and hoped that would suffice for now.
You wandered around looking for her, speaking to various extended family members. Almost everyone here was from her side of the family but they didn’t treat you any different.
“So how’s that museum going baby? What is it you do there again?” You great Aunt Lettie asked.
“Well actually I-“
“Y/N! Girl I been looking for you everywhere! Come on in here and help ya Auntie in the kitchen,” Mabel said thundering down the stairs. You said your condolences to Lettie then followed your Aunt into the kitchen.
You looked around as she began stirring something in a pot, “So what exactly was it that you needed help with?”
“Oh child, nothing. I just know how Lettie gets and she’ll talk your head off all day if you let her,” she chuckled, throwing on her Apron. You sighed in relief, sinking down in a chair for the first time in what felt like hours.
“Tired?” Mabel quipped.
“You have no idea,” you rubbed the side of your temples trying to alleviate a potential headache in its tracks.
“Maybe you wouldn’t be if you actually slept at night,” you felt your heart drop as your eyes flew open.
“Save it. I went to fetch that boy this morning so he could move some furniture around for me. Imagine my surprise to see not only his room empty but that he’d some how stumbled into yours. Better be glad it was me who drug him out of there and not your uncle.” She turned her attention away from stirring the pot to... well... stir the pot.
“There’s nothing going on between us... we just sleep next to each other. But we’re not... like that,” you averted your eyes. Wait, did she say she drug him out of your room this morning?
“Sell that tale to some other simpleton, I’ve seen the way you been eyeing that man. And more importantly, how he looks at you. That’s love, honey, clear as day,” Was it that obvious that your heart ached for him every time you were in a five feet radius of the man?
“I... I.... I didn’t mean for this to happen...”
“For what to happen? To fall for him harder than a piano with a paper parachute?” She didn’t need an answer, your face said it all. “Look, I don’t know exactly what you two got going on rattling around in those big, pretty heads of yours but what I do know is if there were ever two people who needed a little love, deserved a little love in their life, I’m looking at them.”
You felt like you could cry. You’d been so in denial about everything you felt for this man for so long that now faced with your own feelings, they almost threatened to overpower you.
“I- if he doesn’t feel the same, if this is one sided- I- I’ve never really felt this way about anyone before. If he rejects me, it’ll tear me apart. I can’t risk the heartache,”
“Child the world is full of heartache the same way it’s full of rejection. That’s just the nature of life. But one things for sure, nothing will ever come of the two of you skirting around each other like a pair of mice. You need to clear things up even if it doesn’t go according to your plan, which knowing you, you probably don’t even have one. Go talk to the man.” And that was that on her lecture. She turned around and resumed stirring whatever she was cooking on the stoveto, only glancing over her shoulder when she noticed you hadn’t moved.
“I meant now.”
~*~
“And that’s when I told him, ‘look, I don’t care if the god damn Marshal himself rides up on a golden chariot and declares the sanction with feathers flying straight out his ass, I’m not moving my platoon for nobody!’” The table Nebraska was currently sitting at burst into laughter and he cracked a smile to be polite but he didn’t have the slightest clue what the conversation was about. Didn’t really care to be honest. His mind was on one thing and one thing only, that thing of course being you.
It all still felt like a dream to him, he’d almost believe it was if he hadn’t woke up in your bed. Correction, somebody woke him up and it wasn’t you. One look at your Aunt’s face and he knew the jig was up.
“Come help me move some tables, big fella,” she said closing your door behind her. He pulled on his sweatpants which had still been discarded on the floor and followed behind her. He stopped quickly in his own room to grab a shirt. Thank god you’d had the mind to cover up after last night’s escapade. That would only make the situation look worse.
Nebraska was sure he was in for a lecture but the older woman continued on as if she’d seen nothing out of the ordinary, giving out various orders to get ready for the day. Preparation that was much needed by the way. In only a matter of hours the house was filled to the brim with more people than Nebraska could have possibly anticipated. But that was hardly a problem because that gave him ample opportunity to avoid you.
He didn’t know what was going through his mind last night but he had embarrassed himself beyond belief. Looking back, he wished he’d done so many things differently. He wished he had been man enough not to ejaculate so early. He wished he had took care of your pleasure first before obtaining his own. He wished he had thrown all the foreplay out the window and been inside you. When you came downstairs this morning and wouldn’t even look at him, he knew you regretted it. Of course you’d expected more out of him. He had expected more out of himself, but he promised himself if he ever got the opportunity for such intimacies with you again, he’d ravish you the way you deserved.
And oh did you deserve it and then some. The way your mouth had worked Nebraska last night, he could have died a happy man right then, right there. You sucked him off in a way he’d never been before, leaving him completely putty on your well-versed hands. You obviously must have had quite the experience in this area because you knew exactly what to do at every turn, getting him to his release faster than he could himself. Just the thought alone made him crave you, want to seek you out. It had been easier for him to deny his sexual urges for you when he had no point of reference but last night had only served to intensify his need to bed you. A need he’d probably never satisfy after his embrassing performance last night.
Nebraska realized he was completely lost to the conversation with the oldhead army men around him, friends of the Lieutenant no doubt, so he respectfully excused himself then went to head upstairs. He needed a moment to himself to collect his thoughts and stop obsessing over you. But it looked as if luck wasn’t on his side today.
As he began his ascension up the stairs you were coming down and suddenly, your eyes locked. You looked just as beautiful as ever, your mauve skirt and Jean button down accentuating your tempting chubby figure. His mind immediately went to the feel of your curves molding against his own physique, the memory of your delicious weight on his lap igniting a fire in him. He really needed to calm down.
“Hey...” you said in a voice he almost couldn’t hear.
“Hey,”
“Can, um, can we talk?” You asked tugging at the bottom of your skirt.
“Course,” Shit, Nebraska knew where this was going.
“Okay, um..... in here,” she tugged his arm and pulled him into the nearest bathroom, locking the door behind her.
“We need to talk about last night,” Nebraska’s blood went cold.
“I’m listening...”
“I didn’t mean to- That wasn’t my intention to- if you- I wasn’t trying to-“
“Save it, Y/N. Just forget it ever happened.” Nebraska couldn’t listen to this. He couldn’t hear how much you regret being with him. What easily was a night of utter perfection for him was nothing more than an impulsive mistake for you and that realization hurt too much to hear verbalized.
“Nebraska please just... let me talk. Even if you don’t care about what I have to say, at least let me say it. Please...,” your voice cracked and he could hear the tears you were fighting back in your voice. He thought about storming out to save himself from having to watch this breakdown but he knew him leaving would only cause you to burst into tears and he just couldn’t do that to you. So Nebraska resigned to leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest, indicating to you that you had his full attention.
“Ok look. I- I don’t know the full nature of you and Tonya’s relationship but I’m not an idiot. I knew something was going on with you two but I still went after you anyway and I just want to apologize profusely for impeding on your relationship with her,” you took a breath, “but I feel I owe it to you, and to myself, to be honest about my... feelings the last few months. I- I’m not the most experienced with men. I often read into things way too much. I’m anxious to a fault. But either way, I somehow deluded myself into seeing your kindness and gentleman-like ways for something they weren’t. I- I began developing feeling for you when I shouldn’t have. And for that I apologize.... again.” You took another breath, swallowing this time.
“You’re a great guy. One of the best men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Last night... I don’t know what came over me. I’m usually not so aggressive, especially sexually, and I’m sorry for coming at you like some sort of deranged animal in heat. It wasn’t right and I promise you it’ll never happen again. I know all hope for the two of us being as close as we were is out the window. And I don’t blame you for that, by the way. It’s my fault and I take full responsibility. I just hope, that maybe, in time you’ll be able to forgive me and I can move on from feeling like this. I promise you I’ll get over it, I just need a little time but until then I was hoping we could at least remain friends. I know that’s a lot to ask but I don’t really think I could handle if things continued like this with you ignoring me completely. I know I’m probably being overly sensitive right now but it just... hurts....” you trailed off. Nebraska hadn’t said a word, his body frozen in that spot while his mind raced to process everything you’d just told him.
“Are you finished?” His voice was low, rugged.
“.... yeah, I guess I am,” he could hear the disappointment.
Nebraska walked up to you, cupping your jaw with hand as he captured your lips in his own. You eyes bulged out of your head in shock and for a second he though you were going to push him away.
“N-n-Nebraska I-“
“Shhhh. You got your chance to speak, now it’s my turn,” he returned to your lips, deepening the kiss. You moaned into his mouth as he lifted you onto the bathroom counter. His hands traveled under your skirt, gripping your thighs, undoubtedly his new favorite part of you. You let out a squeak of surprise when he suddenly pulled you flush against him.
“I’ve been agonizing over you since I met you. You think any man could be in proximity to all of this-“ he smacked your ass “and not want to break you in half? If you’re delusional then I’m in this fantasy right with you because I’ve been enamored with you for months. But you just seemed so disinterested I.... I couldn’t... I didn’t know...”
“Hey, it’s alright.” You cooed, cupping his face. He rest his forehead against your own, grateful for the intimacy.
“I just need you to know this isn’t one sided. You have nothing to apologize to me for, not now, not ever.” Nebraska wished he could say more. Wished he could articulate more coherently exactly how deep his feelings went for you. Wished he could express how you made him feel like he wasn’t such a monster, like he was worthy of his own personhood, even if he doubted it himself most times.
Nebraska opened his eyes to see you staring at his lips, the wanton look in your eyes making his cock throb. Yes he wanted to proclaim his undying love and affection for you but he also wanted to fuck you so good your pussy would need crutches the next day.
“C’mere,” he growled lowly and you almost bounced off the counter wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him. He could appreciate his position of standing between your thighs however he knew realistically he couldn’t fuck you right here in the bathroom. Not with the house damn near filled to capacity. No, he’d have to show a little more restraint for your sake and his own.
“And, Y/N, about last night...,” Nebraska said breaking the kiss. You hummed in reply as you began trailing kisses down his neck.
“How did you expect to give head like that and not have a man fall in love with you?”
~*~
A/N: What y’all think? Told y’all I was gonna give y’all some action if you stuck with me 😘😘 I hope y’all liked this chapter because I actually worked harder on this one than any other chapter so far. As always please let me know what y’all think, it really helps me get ideas for the next chapter. 💕💕🥰
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nijicx · 5 years
Text
BNHA OC- Shimisuke
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Name:
Shimisuke ['Shimi' for short]Age: 17 (one year older than everyone else in first year)
Nationality
Japanese
Hero Name:
Pustule
Quirk:
Pustule  [Gross-out Warning]
Quirk Characteristics:
Shimi has a particularly destructive quirk. Upon contact is made with the flat of his palm, tiny, almost microscopic barbs release a bio-toxin which immediately causes bouquets of pustules and boils to form.  An even more intense effect can be had by scratching someones skin with his fingernails, which produce the toxin beneath the fingernails as a way to defend from would-be predators.
Lastly, he has two glands at the back of his mouth where his wisdom teeth should be. These have a hyper concentration of the toxin, and by coating things in the secretion from this gland, he can cause boils and pustules so large and severe, that he can command them to explode from a distance away.
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Quirk Limitations:
Overuse sometimes causes him to have break-outs, which to him is the worst of any quirk limitation ever. He would much rather just get headaches or throw up like most people. He often wears masks to school after over usage. Other annoying side effects is when overused he can develop hives or rashes or his gums might swell.
While the toxins from the glands at the back of his mouth are incredibly useful for dealing painful damage to an enemy, he cannot shoot them from the glands. Instead, he coats something in it by putting it in his mouth and then launching it at them. The way he has devised for this to work is by chewing sour jawbreakers. The sourness stimulates the glands as it also triggers salivation, and then he places it into a sling mounted on his glove and shoots it at the opponent. There is a strap both between his thumb and fore-finger, as well as one on the back of his hand. While he is quite a good shot, a moving target at long range would be very difficult to hit.
Secondly, because his quirk can be very dangerous and destructive, he must be very careful when using it. When the large pustules or boils explode, infection can set in incredibly quickly for the opponent, and if they are attacked and get away, the opponent must seek medical attention shortly afterwards or possibly be left with a very painful flesh wound and dangerous infection of the tissues.
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Background:
Shimi, like most young boys, dreamed of being a hero until he was around 11 years old. Before then he was a little shit. (Again, like most young boys) he gave teachers trouble, was rowdy, and was the class clown. He could be disruptive but was overall just a harmless, albeit, annoying little brat.
With a gentle tap his quirk can cause small breakouts on people and so his favorite gag was bopping one of them on the forehead during school picture day.
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While messing around with his friends one day he got a brilliant idea to spitball a girl he had a crush on in class.
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Nana was seen by the nurse and it wasn't serious, but it left her with a scar on her face for life.
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Shimi was sent to a quirk doctor straight from the school and it was discovered that he had physically matured into the glands as they hadn't been present when his quirk manifested around 4.
He wasn't punished for the harm he caused as it was proven he had no idea he thought he would hurt her but he did get detention for the spitball in general. During his time in detention he became aware of how grave it would have been if she'd been hit in the eye. She likely would have lost her sight in it immediately. It left him feeling like he got off very easy for something that could have affected someones whole life.
After this is became rather introverted. Always fearful that his body would somehow mature and develop another new dangerous ability and hurt someone. He became distanced from his friends and instead, made relationships with people online, as he didn't have to make contact with them at all to be friends.
This led to him spending late nights online playing games with others to supplement the lack of human interaction during the day. It led to him getting the reputation of a lazy, sort of delinquent later in middle school. It also didn't help that rumors were spread and twisted that he had been bullying a quirkless girl, something that really didn't sit right with the other kids.  It was in his second year of middle school that he was finally put back into a class with Nana.
He made up his mind that he needed to apologize to her better, since the first one he made was in the presence of both of their sets of parents and didn't feel like he got to say the things he wanted to say.
Approaching her wasn't difficult though, she had always been quiet and removed from most circles. She was quirkless and while she had friends she never really did anything with them. After explaining everything to her she told him that she never held it against them. Because of the two's lonely nature and being the last to be picked for everything in class due to how much he stood out as a delinquent, and how little Nana stood out at all. They worked together often and gradually became best friends.
Trouble with them didn't start until the end of middle school when they were studying and applying for the exams at the highschools of their choice. The trouble came when going through his paperwork she didn't see any applications for any of the known hero schools at all.
She shoved them in his face and asked what exactly he was doing in what probably was the most show of force he'd ever seen her exude. He told her that his quirk was dangerous, and that he couldn't know what its capable of. It being best to subdue it and try and live a normal life. Understandably confused by the sudden frustration from her he asked her if he was wrong somehow.
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"I've never resented you for this until just now"
She stormed out, and this caused an almost month-long rift between then, Nana refusing to see or study with him at all. Eventually Shimi asked her to explain, since he didn't want to go off to highschool without knowing what he did wrong. Nanako relenting and explaining to him, that she didn't resent him for it, not because it was an accident, but because someday the same power that hurt her would be used to do something , which in-turn, would give her a reason not to be so self-conscious about it. She was a quirkless civilian and in her mind, could only be saved or hurt by others powers. And if it was a Hero who scarred her, the anger she felt about being born quirkless at all would disappear.  Her outlook alarmed Shimi but she refused to be swayed.
They reconciled that neither could change the others beliefs but it didn't stop Nana's subtle guilt-trips which gradually got more and more out-there as time went on. The act of trying to motivate Shimi to do something with his power by showing him how cool he could look, actually helping her to come out of her shell a bit and become more confident.  Often striking All-Might-esque poses while standing on benches and saying "THIS COULD BE YOU YOUNG-SHIMI"
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This continued into their first year of highschool. They both got in, and since Shimi didn't have any particular motivations for his future, he decided to go to the school Nana was choosing. Not having her in his class though also meant less motivation to come to school again.
Shimi would often show up late to class with coffee and his headphones in, and was sometimes absent all together. His grades suffered and his teachers were all at a loss as to what to do with him as no amount of afterschool chores or detentions seemed to have any effect on him.
Close to the end of their first year of highschool, while Nana and him were walking home. She asked him again if this is how he's gunna live forever. Telling him that just having the choice already made his life so full of opportunities that she'll never even realize. And yet he wanted to live just like her instead. She asked him again, why he thought his quirk couldn't be useful, to which Shimi replied: "Because my quirk can really, really hurt people." To which Nana replied, "Yeah, and some people do it on purpose." Shimi applied for U.A. a week later.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He was accepted but would be far too behind to enter second year, even if he spent all summer trying to catch up. Instead, he was allowed to join first years and start from the ground up. Therefore, he is a year older than the rest of the other students and was the butt of a lot of jokes in the beginning. Him and Gangan quickly became friends after their first match-ups and often team up when fighting against the kids in the International Exchange course.
Nana sends him a text before every big match that says "don't miss! (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧" To which Shimi always responds "When in your life, have you ever known me to miss."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Funfacts:
-Him and Winston are mortal enemies, Him and Gangan are rivals to most of my main U.A. children.
-He is a very good strategist likely because he's constantly playing strategy video-games. He is the one on his team who usually comes up with the plan of attack.
-He is a member of the same guild that Eite is in their online MMO, but neither know that the two spend all night playing with eachother.
-Because he is a year older than everyone in first year, people, to his dismay, trust him with a lot of things, and due to his dead-pan, rather removed expression, he can sometimes tease them by feeding them false information and then when they go "really" he'll be like "no." -_-
-Shimi means “blotch” in Japanese
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j3mjj3m · 5 years
Text
Cass n Steph (p2)
ye boi
tw for shitty teenager language
“Cloves, Steph?” George asked. “Really?”
She shrugged. “They’re nice.”
“Look at yourself.” Steph did. “You just scream fag.”
“George.” She said flatly. “That’s for a fucking reason. What’s gotten into you today? I know you hate when younger kids get in your way, but dumping your Monster on them is just asking to get a warning now. You’re on probation.”
He shrugged, sucking on his teeth and taking another drag of his cigarette.
“Are you still salty for being friend-zoned by me?” She was honestly awed. “I’m a fag with bad acne and serious mental problems. I’m astounded you were into me at all.”
“You sucked my dick multiple times.” He pointed at her. “So you’re not completely a dyke.” She rolled her eyes. “And you only have acne scars from 9th year. And those mental problems render you with such a low sense of self-esteem. You should see the way that closeted girls salivate over you.” He dropped his bud onto the floor and ground it dead with his shoe. “And I’m not salty. I’m just horny and now I’m completely out of options.”
“Those were the nicest things you’ve ever said to me, Georgie-boy.” She smiled and pinched his cheek. “And simultaneously the douchiest thing I’ve ever fucking heard.”
He put his hands up. “Sue me.”
“Just go jerk off, loser.”
He stuck his tongue out and waved goodbye, rounding the corner of the dumpster. Students came out in waves as the school bell rung, shrill and irritating. She was jealous of his tongue piercing: She wanted one so bad but wouldn’t have enough money to spend for herself for another month. She needed to pay the rent next week.
She dropped her clove on the floor and kicked dust over it, then wiping the dust off her boots. She loved her boots. She was not getting them dirty.
“Steph! Steph, hey!”
Steph winced for theatrics when Cass bounced to a stop in front of her. “What?”
“Want a lift?” She looked over her shoulder. “Corinne’s dropping me home.”
A girl with gorgeously clear, golden brown skin and perfectly styled coil hair waved her keys at Steph with a smile.
“We’ve got an extra seat.” Cass nudged her shoulder, like she had this morning. “C’mon, you know you want to.”
“Why?”
“Don’t look so disgusted, ha!” Cass grabbed her by the wrist. “Because we live close together and it wouldn’t make sense otherwise? Stop dragging your feet, Nanie, come on!”
“Don’t fucking call me that.” Steph spluttered.
Cass only winked. Steph’s heart squeezed. “Make me.”
What is happening. She thought flatly. Cass had to be playing with her. This was all so much, so fast.
She got thrown into a baby-blue convertible.
“Of course you have rich friends.” She murmured to Cass.
“Oh, Corinne’s dad hot-wired this and transformed it so no one would find it.” Cass said cooly, making eye-contact with Steph in the rear-view mirror. “It’s even a hybrid-engine, so we barely have to pay for gas.”
Steph blanched. “Is that true?”
Corinne snorted, turning around in the driver’s seat to look at Steph. “If I say yes, will you go telling someone?”
“I smoke outside the dumpsters instead of going to 6th period. Do you think I’m going to tell someone? No, I’m just going to ask your dad to teach me how to hot-wire a car.”
“Hey, bitches.” Another girl swung over the edge of the car instead of using the door. “Corinne, do you really trust the English weather enough to keep your car top-down all day like this? Or the Truro folk?”
“No?” The engine revved to life and Steph grabbed onto the door’s handle to sturdy herself.
“Well, it was left down all day today!” The girl punched the back of Corinne’s seat with a cackle. Steph was pretty sure her name was Annie. She had frizzy brown hair, tied up into a high bun and stunning eyelashes.
“Fuck me!” Corinne laughed. They sped out of the school’s parking lot with haste.
This had to be the weirdest afternoon in Steph’s life.
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justine1518 · 5 years
Text
PORTENTS
Positive, she said cheerily, as if I shouldn’t go out and hang myself this instant. I held on to the phone for a long time; I was sure that if I let go I would fall down. The coffee turned to mud in my mouth—I ran to the sink and heaved. Congratulations, it’s a fetus. You frigging idiot. 
Afterwards I sat at the kitchen table and tried to make sense of the stuff swirling around in my head. Visions of blood and umbilical cords and feeding bottles whirled before my eyes like malevolent frisbees. The newspaper was lying next to the platter of toast; I read the headline about two hundred times. “May use poison gas, Iraq warns.” Next to it a picture of a dead Kurdish woman clutching the body of her dead child. Mother. Child. I felt like throwing up all over again. I imagined a creature ripping out of my stomach in a gory mess, like the monster in Alien. 
There was a Post-it note on the mirror: “Lunch with Lawrence, 12:30,” Lawrence being a fifty-fifty candidate for the father. I painted a face on and stared at the mirror. I saw my belly swelling up, my clothes rising like a circus tent, and all I could think about was the ten pounds I’d just lost, and the new dress I bought to mark the occasion. Finally I got my new dress out of the closet and put it on while it still fit. 
In the elevator my next-door neighbor smiled and said Good morning. She had this sort of knowing smile, and I found myself wondering if she knew about me. I wasn’t just being paranoid; this is Manila, the neighbors know everything. They are extremely sympathetic, and if you let them they will take over your life. It turned out she was just trying to sell me a watch. Her husband had managed to get out of Kuwait by driving across the desert, and when he got home the banks refused to change his Kuwaiti dinars. That’s why she was selling his watches. I felt kind of sorry for Mrs. Santos, setting out with her imitation Gucci handbag and several dozen gold bracelets to sell her husband’s watches. Or was it Mrs. San Juan, I can never remember.  A nervous breakdown would’ve been in order, or a fit of tears and keening, the kind that comes with a runny nose and smeared mascara. But I’ve never been one for hysterics. Thanks to my parents, by the time I was eight, the sight of a chair being hurled across the room was no longer cause for alarm. Maybe there is something to be said for a lousy home life. Ramon says my emotional range is limited to rage, guilt, and occasional hilarity. He neglected to mention blanknesss—there are times when I just don’t feel anything.  Ramon also claims he can read my thoughts by looking at me—he says I’m transparent. I hope so; it’s embarrassing to tell somebody there’s a fifty per cent chance that he may be a father in several months.  By the time it occurred to me to catch a ride I was halfway to my office and decided to walk the rest of the way. I was swallowed up by the crowd of people hurrying to work; rising above the din of traffic, their footfalls sounded like the marching of a distant army.  In front of the church where rosaries and good-luck charms were sold under the baleful stare of the Archangel Michael’s statue, a strange figure appeared on my right; a filthy man with long, matted hair. A tattered bag was slung across his bare chest, upon which his ribs protruded like spikes. A thick layer of soot covered his emaciated body—he looked like a walking pile of ashes. He started speaking to me in urgent tones, as if he were revealing important secrets, and there was a crazy glint in his eyes. I understood nothing. He was speaking either in dialect of in gibberish, I couldn’t tell, I looked on stupidly. People stared, expecting perhaps that he would produce a cleaver and hack me to death. The man went on with his weird recitation; why he chose me I had no idea, maybe he could see past the designer clothes into my dark and grimy soul. After a while he frowned like a teacher who had just given up on a particularly moronic student. Then he wheeled and dashed into the church, stopping a moment to rub with his filthy hand the scowling face of the Archangel Michael.  Through the glass I could see the cashier, Wilma, on the telephone, spewing vile words like poisoned toads into the receiver. She was screaming at some poor bastard who owed her money. Across from me, Pocholo, in his pink shirt and red paisley necktie, sat flipping through the morning papers.  “It’s exactly as Nostradamus said,” Pocholo said. “He predicted earthquakes signaling the end of the world, and we had that big one last month. Then he said a leader from the Middle East would launch a world war. I thought it would be Khadaffi but no, it’s Saddam Hussein.  “Sure,” I said. I watched Wilma slam the phone so hard it fell to the floor. Cursing mightily, she stopped to pick it up. On this particular day she was clad in polyester cloth abloom with pink and purple flowers, which made her look like a demented sofa.  “Anyway,” Pocholo continued, “my aunts say they saw this vision in Taal.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “They saw a horseman in the sky.”  “A what?”  “A man on a horse. Riding across the sky. A hundred schoolchildren saw it. According to my aunt it looked like the statue of St. Martin that stands in their church.”  “St. Martin on a horse?” I said. “Maybe it was St. George or Joan of Arc. I don’t think St. Martin rode a horse.”  “No, stupid,” he said. “You’re thinking of St. Martin de Porres. We’re elating about St. Martin of Tours. And you know what? My aunt says they saw the same vision just before World War II. Then the Japanese arrived.” He ran his fingers through his artfully moussed and tousled hair. “Oh my God, what if it’s really the end. I mean, I don’t even have a kid yet.”  I looked away so he wouldn’t see me grimace, and was just in time to see Wilma spitting into her wastebasket.  All morning I wondered whether I should ask Wilma for her abortionist’s address. She would give the address, I knew, even accompany me to the place. Probably some decrepit wooden house in the fetid alleys of Tondo, where the gangs hunted each other down with homemade revolvers. Wilma hid nothing, she wore her brazen honesty like a soiled and rusty halo. She had had four abortions, she told me casually while I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom; the washerwoman down her street performed the operation, she owed Wilma money. I imagine Wilma’s insides, as torn and bloody as a battlefield. She said she’d regretted her last abortion: it was a girl, she’s always wanted a baby girl. She put the fetus in a jar of formalin and kept it in the drawer where her wedding dress, which had outlasted her marriage, lay yellowing among mothballs and dead flowers.  The others she’d flushed down the toilet.  Lawrence ate his lunch the way he lived his life: very carefully, as if he would choke on it. Everything about him was resoundingly correct, from his hair to his Italian shoes, from the schools he’d attended to the fashionable gym where he wrestled with machines three times a week. I knew that as he read the menu he was figuring out how much cholesterol, how much sodium and fat were in the entrees.  “It’s going to be bad,” he was saying. “By next year the official exchange rate could be 28 pesos to the dollar. That’s a conservative projection. We haven’t considered oil prices and the damage from the earthquake.” Daintily, he chewed on his vegetable. “Inflation will go through the roof,” he added, almost with relish.  While he delivered his analysis of the economy, I twirled the noodles around my fork but I hardly ate anything. No appetite. Idly, I wondered if Lawrence was sleeping with someone else. One of the girls from his office, someone tall and svelte who worked in PR, shopped in Hong Kong, and wore linen suits with tiny skirts. I concluded that he wasn’t—I had no illusions about his undying love and fidelity, but I trusted his fear of AIDS.  “Am I boring you?” he said at last. Mr. Sensitive. He put his hand on my knee—maybe he expected me to salivate like one of Pavlov’s dogs. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know we haven’t seen each other much lately, but it’s been hell at the office.” Without missing a beat he slid his hand up my skirt. Boy, he was smooth, no one would’ve suspected that the earnest-looking young man in the pinstripe shirt could be doing something as ignoble as giving a girl a feel in a restaurant. “That guy from the head office is a major asshole. Goes around trying to catch people loafing. The office feels like a...”  Abruptly he withdrew his hand and stood up. A large, red-nosed white man in an ill-fitting brown suit was approaching our table.  “Mr. Fowler,” said Lawrence.  “Alvarado,” said the man, shaking the hand Lawrence extended.  “How was the beach?” Lawrence said. I had to restrain myself from calling the waiter and asking for a receptacle I could puke into.  “Fine,” said Fowler, “Well. Enjoy your meal.”  “Is that the asshole from the main office?” I said.  “Sssh,” Lawrence hissed. “He might hear you.”  “Let him.” I reached over with my fork and speared food off his plate. He hated it whenever I did that. Lawrence had a very definite concept of “mine.” For instance, all his books were stamped “Private Library of Lawrence R. Alvarado.” The strange thing was, he didn’t even read his books. They were lined up according to height on his antique bookshelf, neatly covered in plastic. One time I took a book out of the shelf, and it had been there unopened for so long the pages stuck together.  “Anyway,” Lawrence said, “where were we?”  “You mean until your sahib came along?”  “What’s the matter with you?” he said. Funny he should use the exact same words he said coming up to me at Diday’s birthday party while I stood in a corner holding my breath to get rid of my hiccups. He said he was Lawrence and I should breathe into a paper bag, so we went into the kitchen and rummaged in the closets. There weren’t any paper bags, and when he found a plastic shopping bag I didn’t need anymore, my hiccups were gone. He got my name and my telephone number, it was as easy as that.  “Miggy,” he said. Miggy, for Chrissakes. I knew Lawrence wasn’t going to follow me, he hated scenes—and I walked out of the restaurant, it was as easy as that.  I wandered around the mall for a while. I went into stores and looked at things. There was this outfit that looked like our uniform at the Academy of Our Lady’s Seven Sorrows—white blouse, blue necktie, and a navy-blue skirt—only the skirt was too short. At Seven Sorrows, skirts had to cover the entire knee area. If your knees were exposed the nuns would give you a lecture on modesty. There was no spanking—the nuns were an enlightened bunch—but after fifteen minutes of having guilt laid thickly on you, you’d wish they’d give you ten lashes instead and get it over with.  Corporal punishment would simplify everything. For sleeping with a guy you weren’t married to, you’d get, say, five hundred lashes. For sleeping with two guys, neither of whom you were married to, one thousand lashes. For even thinking about abortion, ten thousand lashes. And I’d been such a good girl too, until recently, anyway, so I’d probably get five hundred extra lashes for being such a disappointment.  I made a mental list of the reasons for and against having this baby. Pro: This child would be mine, really truly mine, which couldn’t be said of a lot of things. Pro: Maybe I’ll turn out to be a genius who will invent something beneficial to mankind, like a device that would cause world leaders to self-destruct if they got the urge to wage war.  Anti: I’m not sure I’d be such a hot parent. I have serious deficiencies in the responsibility department, as the credit card people will attest. Anti: The lack of a husband, the resulting social stigma, and if not that, my own paranoia. I would drive myself crazy wondering if someone was going to cast stones at me. Anti: my mother would freak. She’s in California, running a Filipino restaurant, and she’s always going on about the decline of traditional Filipino values. I don’t think she would appreciate having me prove her theories. I can just see her talking to my father, blaming him for dying young and leaving her to raise his daughter to adulthood (I was always “his daughter” everytime I screwed up).  When I got back to the office people were scurrying about like newly-beheaded chickens.  “What’s going on?” I asked Pocholo. He was alternately squirting his asthma medication into his mouth with an inhaler and stuffing folders into his briefcase.  “There’s going to be a big earthquake at 2:30,” he said, only there were no pauses between his words.  “Says who?” I demanded.  “It was on the radio,” he said. He snapped his briefcase shut. People were running into elevators. Wilma let loose a steady stream of obscenities while she stuffed into shopping bags the fake Benetton shirts she sold on installment.  “That’s crazy,” I said. “You can’t predict exactly when an earthquake will happen.”  "It was on the radio,” Pocholo repeated, as if media coverage were an infallible confirmation of truth. “2:30. Powerful earthquake, intensity nine.”  “Well, I’m not leaving,” I declared. “I’m not going to fall for an idiotic prank.”  “This building could collapse!” he screeched. “Like the Hyatt Terraces!” “You can’t predict an earthquake exactly.”  “What if there is one? Be reasonable!”  Reasonable! I nearly laughed at that. Pocholo gave up, gathered his briefcase and inhaler, and ran to the elevator.  “Come on,” said Wilma, “It’s almost time.”  “It’s a prank,” I said. “I’m not leaving.”  “They’re closing the building,” she said. “Everyone’s getting out. Do you want to get locked in?”  She had a point. I got my bag—I could use the afternoon off, anyway.  I figured I’d go home and get some sleep; maybe when I woke up this whole thing would turn out to be a bad dream like the one that killed my Uncle Danding. One night he ate too much rice and stewed pork, then went to bed and started screaming horribly in his sleep. They slapped him, poured cold water on him, pounded and bit him, but he never woke up. He died uttering strange garbled noises. The official cause of death was cardiac arrest, but everyone said it was bangungot, the sleeping sickness.  It did seem like a dream, the crowd of people gathered at the parking lot and looking at the building, waiting for the swaying to start. Idiots, I muttered, as I flagged down a taxi.  “Where to?” the driver snarled.  “Salcedo,” I said.  “Too near,” he snapped, zooming off before I could get in the cab. Taxi drivers! This was not a great moment for humanity: everyone was being an idiot or an asshole.  All the taxis were taken, and the buses were so full people were sprouting out the windows. I could see the passengers crammed together like fillings in an enormous sandwich, bumping and rubbing against each other with every lurch of the bus. Maybe if something asks who my kid’s father is, I could say I took a really crowded bus and got knocked up.  By the time I got back to my apartment my feet were throbbing. A menu from a pizza parlor that delivered had been shoved under my door; reading it I had a sudden wild craving for anchovy pizza. Pregnant women are supposed to have these wild cravings, but I was slightly worried. I’ve heard old people say that what you crave during pregnancy determines how your child will turn out. For instance, if you crave guavas, your child will be stubborn. My friend claims her clumsiness was caused by her mother’s fondness for noodles. And singkamas is supposed to produce fair-complexioned children, no matter how dark their parents are. I thought, if I ate a lot of anchovies, would my child have scaly skin, or look like a fish?  I phoned the pizza place anyway, and when I put the phone down it rang. “Hi,” said Ramon.  “How did you know I was home?” I said.  “You’re always home on Sunday.”  “It’s Monday.”  “Oh. Are you going out tonight?” he said. “Can I come over?”  “Okay.”  When I hung up I noticed how quiet the building was. No radios blaring, no TV, no brats squalling down the hall. For a second I wondered if there really was an earthquake. The last time, when the tremors started there was a stunned silence. The phones stopped ringing, the printers stopped whirring, conversations paused in mid-sentence; everyone sat gripping their desks, their eyes wide open and their mouths shaped into O’s. Then people dove under tables and Wilma was saying “OhGodOhGodOhGod” and there was a loud wailing in the air. When the tremors stopped I heard Pocholo’s radio, and the B-52s were singing, “Cosmic! Cosmic!”  I switched the TV on. There was this soap opera about a little girl whom everyone maltreated. The actress was played by a little girl was so good at being a martyr, it was as if she had a sign on her forehead that said, “Kick me.” The soap was interrupted by a news broadcast: 262 more Filipinos had fled Kuwait. A middle-aged woman told a reporter she had been raped by Iraqi soldiers. Why should I be ashamed, she said, I didn’t want it to happen. It was amazing how casual she was. How could she be so cool? War could break out any second, and that madman could use chemical weapons. I thought of worldwide recession, rioting for food, and pictures I had seen of Hiroshima after that blast.  Maybe Pocholo and his aunt were right, the world was coming to an end. What a lousy time it was to be born, with madmen waiting to gas you or blow you away, and the earth opening up to swallow you. On the other hand, with everything going against you, you didn’t need your own mother plotting to get rid of you.  Ramon came in at six. His hair looked like he’d cut it himself, which he often did. He brought a take-out box of friend noodles and a videotape of Road Runner cartoons. I heated the pizza leftovers and he ate them on the card table on the terrace.  He looked exhausted. “I stayed up late filling out the forms for my grant,” he explained, rubbing his eyes.  “I had a weird day,” I said. I told him about the street crazy in front of the church, and his strange message.  He rubbed a spot of sauce off my chin with his thumb. “Maybe it was an obscene proposal. Or maybe he was speaking Aramaic. Repent or else.”  “My officemate says the world is ending,” I said.  He ate the last crumb of pizza. “Maybe.”  “Doesn’t it worry you?”  “It’s not like I can do anything about it. If it’s true. What’s scary is being the last person on earth,” Ramon said.  "Everyone else is dead, and you wander around the rubble and slowly realize you’re alone.”  “God,” I said. “What would you do?”  “Keep looking for another survivor. Try to go crazy,” he reached over and picked a noodle from my plate. “We’re being morbid tonight.”  “I can’t help it,” I said. “All this talk about war.”  It started to rain, so we got up and went inside. As I closed the door to the terrace I thought I saw something in the sky—a man on a black horse, riding through the rain.  “You want some coffee?” Ramon called from the kitchen.  “Yes, please,” I said. My knees were wobbly, I had to sit down. You’re seeing things, I told myself. Pregnant women do it all the time, it’s hormones or something.  “What’s wrong?” said Ramon.  “Nothing,” I said, and in the pit of my stomach I felt a little kick.
Malevolent- having or showing a wish to do evil to others.
like malevolent Frisbees- The persona in the story feels like the problem she is facing is being thrown towards her.
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glass-ladybug · 7 years
Text
Mae woke up at the perfect time of 1:35 pm, only to be decked in the face by exhaustion and boredom. As a kid, getting a day off of school was like heaven. Unfortunately, after you become a disappointment to the family and a college drop out with literally nothing to do, and no responsibilities past showering occasionally, it starts being less fun and more... depressing. Mae didn't like thinking about that too much. As light filtered into her messy little room, Mae opened her eyes and immediately regretted it, sinking deeper into the bed covers. Waves of pain and nausea coursed through her head, and she clenched her teeth, clutching onto the bedspread. The dreams hadn't gotten... worse, necessarily, but it seemed that they were getting more vivid. Which sucked. Face still firmly planted in the covers, Mae blindly groped around for her laptop, shuffling things around on the nightstand as she dragged it onto her lap. Unfortunately, this was the step where she would need to be able to see. Slowly, she rubbed her eyes and reluctantly opened them, giving a sigh of relief when no second burst of pain affected her. She absently logged on, yawning as she waited for the morning's messages to load in. greggrulz: Heeeeey!!!! greggrulz: at work 2day.... u should stop by!!! greggrulz: my boss dropped off some new stuff greggrulz: lightbulbs for like..... 68 cents greggrulz: im sure she wouldnt notice if a few... went missing greggrulz: anyway!!! see u later greggrulz: Sincerely, Greggory. Well, it was too late now. Gregg had the morning and evening shifts which meant he'd probably be at home with Angus right now. And Mae really didn't want to stick her finger in their broken call button again. So, that was out. Wouldn't hurt to text him back, though! witchdagger1031: Hey gregg witchdagger1031: ur not online now, but we can def hang tomorrow witchdagger1031: im down with whatever witchdagger1031: tell the big guy i say hi witchdagger1031: over and out Yeah, that was good. Angus, per usual, had only left an away message, but that was okay. He was probably having fun fixing a giant robot, or programming a top-secret device for the FBI. Or... Whatever Angus did in his spare time. BeatriceSantello: Morning. BeatriceSantello: I'm at work, If you want to come by or whatever. BeatriceSantello: See you soon. Mae shuddered. So.... Formal. Aack. For as much of a badass Bea was, she kinda needed to loosen up a little. Mae let her mind wander. Maybe there'd be another furnace to beat the shit out of today. Hmm. No, she was actually more in the mood to destroy a refrigerator. Yeah, that sounded good. Dragging herself out of bed, Mae pulled on a worn orange sweatshirt and yanked a pair of shoes onto her feet. She trudged down the steps, feeling a little lonely when her mom wasn't in the kitchen. She knew it was unreasonable for her mom to still be there, considering, y'know, she had a ...job. She still couldn't help feeling a little sad, though. Mae thew together some cereal and an Eggo waffle - a delicious combination, despite what everyone else seemed to think. Losers. They didn't know how to appreciate good food. After dumping her bowl into the sink, Mae disappeared out the door and into the quiet atmosphere of Possum Springs. The door to The Ol' Pickaxe jingled softly, and Mae sauntered up to the counter, and plopped herself down on it. "Hey, Bea!" Amused, Bea continued to stock the register. "Hey, Mae." "So," Mae shifted around, "how's the Pickaxe?" "Trying to kill me." Bea muttered. "Unsuccessfully, thus far at least." "What's so stressful?" "Well, on top of everything else, we're hosting that Harfest play tomorrow." Bea grumbled, tapped out numbers on her keyboard and absently handing a customer their receipt. "Oh, wooooooooww. Lucky you." Mae snickered. "Yeah. I'm never offering to help with this again." Mae swung her legs, bouncing on the counter. "So, what are you up to tonight?" Bea raised an eyebrow. "Uh. Nothing?" She shook her head. "I'm, like, super tired." Frowning now, Bea began organizing a list of fluorescent labels in a pattern Mae didn't really want to decipher. "Because everything in my life is exhausting. And I'm doing the work of like /three/ employees, plus a store owner. Even though I'm one employee, and I /do not own this store/!" Bea's husky, low voice quickly rose in volume, and she ended the sentence with something near a shout as she slammed down her pen with a bang. "Oh," Mae said helpfully, "weird." Bea gave another worn out sigh, and for the first time Mae noticed how /tired/ she looked. She did a good job of hiding with her black, expertly applied eyeshadow, but creases and dark circles were still visible if you looked closer. "I thought for some reason you owned this place now." Mae said. Bea let out a derisive laugh. "You'd think. Actually, though, I'd rather die. Like, make me a coffin using tools from this store, and bury me literally anywhere else." "Wow. That got intense." A drawer clicked as Bea slid her finished work into a file. "Aaaaagh. Sorry I'm so high strung." Mae scuffed her shoes against the counter, attracting a dirty look from an employee across the store. "It's chill." "Anyway. I'm doing nothing tonight." Mae perked up, sitting a little taller. "I can do nothing too!" There was a beat of dead quiet. "Fine." Mae did a little victory dance to herself, pumping a fist into the air. "Nice!" "So, are we doing this now? My shift is over soon." "Yeah! Let's hang out!" Bea began packing up, wrangling a set of several scratched keys. "I don't having anything very interesting to do. I'm just knocking off work early to pick up some groceries." Mae shrugged, and hopped off the counter. "That's fine!" Bea shouted to the other on-duty employee that she was leaving early, giving them a glare that just dared them the contradict her. As Bea turned around, Mae stuck her tongue out and waved at the employee, reveling in her retribution. Take that, capitalism! ------------------------------------------ "-And that's why U.S. pennies aren't 100% copper." Mae rambled. "You sure know a lot of useless shit." "Yep! That's my specialty. Knowing useless shit and beating things up." "It's a good combination." Bea snorted. The two walked side by side in the Ham Panther, Bea adding various items to her red plastic basket, and Mae salivating over the snack section. Bea held up a can of corn, examining it before dropping it in with the myriad of other food items. "OK. I need to grab a few things quick." "Aww, I thought we were gonna hang out!" "Uh. We are hanging out. I'm just here to grab something for dinner for Dad and me. I don't feel like ordering again." Mae beamed widely. "Let me pick out what we have!" Bea choked, grinning slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry. You're coming to dinner?" "Can I?" The older girl let out a disbelieving laugh. "Um. I guess?" Mae fluttered her eyelashes, smiling saccharinely. "Are you asking?" "I wasn't." Mae snapped her fingers. "Damn." "I wasn't, but now it feels weird not to..." "Great! Then I'll pick out what we have to eat!" Mae yanked the basket from Bea's arm, and began speeding down an aisle, when she felt someone grab onto her arm. Bea looked at her carefully. "Wait, you're actually serious?" Mae nodded excitedly. "You know what? Go for it. I hate shopping. We need a main course and like, two sides?" Smiling brighter than ever, Mae pointed at her beloved snack aisle. "Dessert?" "We're not children." "Appetizer?" "We're on a /budget/, Mae." Still not letting go, Bea held Mae out at arms length. "And no shoplifting. I can afford a few groceries, and this place has cameras." "Good point." Mae complied. Bea let her arm fall away, and the self-proclaimed 'fierce warrior' sped down a random aisle with a clumsy salute. She quickly grabbed the brightest and most colorful looking can, which turned out to be chicken noodle soup (with stars!). Then, satisfied with that decision, Mae sprinted toward the boxed, 'make it yourself' aisle, yanking some 'Nice Rice' off the shelf. Niiiiice riiice. Mmm, great. Shoes screeching on the shiny tiled floor, Mae sharply turned into the refrigerator aisle, eyes flicking over the array of goods stacked neatly. She tossed a roll of off-brand biscuits into her basket, not really even looking at what she grabbed. Facing her own invisible time limit, Mae booked it back to where Bea was meandering under the Ham Panther's fluorescent lights. "That was quick." Panting, Mae rested her hands on her knees. "Haah.... Good..." Mae looked up, still out of breath. "My dad, uh, works at the deli! We could get meat from there." "Lead the way." As they walked, Mae noticed Shakey Bakey was on sale. Nice. That stuff was awesome. She added it to the basket. Over at the Deli Counter, Mae's father, a kind of robust (but lovable!) man, was working the cash register, fully decked out with apron, hair net, and thin rubber gloves. "Ladies!" He greeted. "Hey, Dad." "Bea, long time no see!" Bea smiled politely. "How are you, Mr. Borowski?" "Can't complain." Mr. Borowski's chest shook as laughed. "Just me and the meats." He smiled, patting a fish fillet. "Still weird seeing you here, Dad." Mae chimed in. "Beats the alternative!" Bea furrowed her eyebrows. "What's the alternative?" "Unemployment." "Oh." He smiled cheerfully, his eyes crinkling up around the edges. "So what are you lovely ladies doing here?" "Just grabbing something for dinner." "How's your dad?" Bea's expression darkened briefly. "Alright." Mae's father nodded absently. "What can I get for you?" Gesturing to Mae, Bea took a step back, allowing the smaller of the two to press her hands on the glass display counter, scrutinizing their options. "She's picking." "One of your best fishes, please!" Bea hummed vaguely. "Whatever's good. Dinner for three people, nothing pricey." Mr. Borowski slid out a tray of fish, wrapping one in paper. "Bea, you should come by for dinner sometime!" Mae's heart immediately froze, and she repressed the urge to bolt out the door, steal Bea's truck, and never return. While her body was unfortunately stuck here, her brain was already far gone. "A-at the Ham Panther?" She stumbled. "At home, Mae. I'll grill us up something nice!" Bea was calm as ever, and Mae almost hated her for it. "That'd be nice. Thank you." "Ok-ok, let's check out!" Mae said, hastily shoving her basket at her dad, who was trying not to smile. Pulling out a cigarette, Bea flicked her lighter, much to Mae's distaste. "I'm not even looking at what you got. That is how straight up tired I am." "It's gonna be great!" "If you say so. Let's keep moving." Mae's father began bagging their groceries. "Hmm. Hmm, yes, okay. Oh? Well that's... interesting." "Interesting?" Mae said hopefully. "Maybe I'm just behind the times. Have a nice day, girls." Bea grabbed her keys and their bags. "Alright. Thanks, Mr. Borowski." "See you later, Dad!" Her father gave a little wave, as the two departed from the Ham Panther, and into Bea's car. That was his girl. Awkward and odd, but with a good heart. ------------------------------------------ Bea's apartment was messy. It looked like someone had /attempted/ to keep it clean, but over time it had just fallen into despair. Mae didn't miss the nervous little glances Bea shot her when she thought she couldn't see, nor the way her body tensed up as they walked through the doorway. Seeing the disarray the house was in, Mae felt a little less... underdressed than before. She looked over at Bea, waiting for her to extinguish her cigarette. She didn't. "I'm home." She yelled out. The couch- wait, no, a /person/ on the couch- answered back. "You're early." Bea set the groceries on the table, leading Mae to a slightly scratched chair. "We're having someone over. Do you remember Mae?" Mae gave a little wave, and the figure on the couch grunted. Grabbing a pan from under a cupboard, Bea started preheating the stove. Motioning for Mae to help, she began spouting off instructions. "Butter. Top shelf in the refrigerator. Add it to the pan, and then stir in the rice. When you're done with that, grab the biscuits and open them." "Aye-aye!" In about a half hour of splattering, sarcasm, and Mae stealing a taste of food whenever Bea turned around, dinner was cooked. "No, don't touch the oven. I don't need a house fire." "I was ten!" Mae cried indignantly. "Pyromania is for life." As Bea pulled the fish from the oven, her father stood up, and seated himself at the table. "Nice to see you, Mae. Been awhile." Mae raised her eyebrows at the quick attitude change, but gave a nervous smile in return. "Uh... Hi?" "Um." Bea said. "Huh?" "You.... Put Shakey Bakey. On fish." "So?" "Just take a bite." Mae bit into the crispy fish, and almost gagged. It tasted spicy, sour, and a whole bunch of other things that fish should definitely not taste like. "Oh." Bea sighed. "Yeah. 'Oh' about sums it up. Dad, do you want me to order a pizza?" "Go ahead." Suddenly filled with guilt, embarrassment prickled over Mae's skin. "Did I ruin dinner?" Mr. Santello laughed- a far cry from his attitude when Mae arrived. It was a little unnerving. "Yep. But we'll live, I think. The fish just didn't work out." Mae fidgeted and looked away. "I thought: Hey, fish is good. Shakey Bakey is good..." Bea snorted. "Did you like it?" "No, I agree. It's pretty terrible." With that, Mr. Santello made his way back to the couch, and flicked on the T.V. Bea sat next to him, and started talking business, leaving Mae to only be vaguely tuned in, and staring at the putrid orange walls. "So, we're all paid up 'til the 15th next month." Bea's father grunted. "Alright. That rock salt sorted?" "Yeah, should be fine." She was looking away now, a crease forming on her high forehead, and her posture tense. "Okay, uh, I need you to sign some things. Left them on the table." "Think I might just get to 'em." "Please do. We have to pay the guys in a few days." "I don't need you to remind me." There was a prolonged beat of silence, and Mae could swear the temperature dropped a few degrees. Bea pursed her lips. "I know, but-" "I /don't/, Beatrice. Whose name is on the deed?" "...Yours, Dad." "Whose names on the checks?" Bea was almost perfectly still now, her fingers clutching the armrest so hard they were turning pale. "Yours." She ground out. Mae wanted so badly to pipe up, but before she could say a word, Bea shot her a Look. It wasn't harsh, nor a glare like she gave her co-worker. It was almost a ...plea. Like she was silently begging her to shut up. So, Mae did. But she wasn't happy about it. Bea stood up stiffly. "Mae and I are gonna hang out in my room." Mr. Santello smiled kindly. "You girls have a nice time! Thanks for dinner, Mae." "O...kay." "C'mon, Mae." Bea muttered. Mae lingered around for a few seconds, running a hand over the apartment's chipped and cracked walls. Bea. Badass, smart, always calm and cool Bea lived /here/. For as cynical and sarcastic as she was, there was no way Bea was okay with that. ((NO TRANSITION SENTENCE BC I CAN'T THINK OF ONE)) Bea's room was filled with an array of boxes, some semi-unpacked, and some completely untouched. There was a laundry hamper pushed to a corner, and a laptop laying on the carpet, plugged into an outlet. Bea herself was curled up on a tiny, rickety blue wooden bed, her heavy-lidded eyes only half open. "So... Did you guys move in recently?" Mae questioned. "10 months ago." "Why aren't you unpacked?" Bea just shifted over, fiddling with a loose string on the bed, wrapping it over her finger again and again. "So I've got a question." Mae said. "Mmhmm?" "Your dad is kinda up and down, huh?" "He has good days, and bad days. Often in the same day." "Haha, Gregg's always been like that too. Just more...uh... zany about it." "Well Gregg is most likely bi-polar, or on the autism spectrum. He's never actually told me the specifics." "Yeah, he doesn't talk about it much. But thanks, Doctor Bea." "My pleasure. Whereas, my dad is having a years long breakdown." "You run the whole store now, right?" "More or less." "Yeah," Mae huffed, "but it's still his name on everything." "Yep." "And meanwhile, you're running basically /everything/." "Yep. And! And! Working there /every day/ too. Yep." "I just think you shouldn't! I mean, I would probably just quit. Or, like, take over the store. Like, you not doing anything just reinforces-" The string Bea was pulling on snapped. "Is this really the road you want to go down with this?" Mae clenched her jaw. "I'm /saying/ it's not right that you roll over and take it." Bea's voice was dangerously calm, and Mae was sightly taken aback. "Take it?" "Take it?!" Her words were filled with a seething, dark anger, and it took all of Mae's willpower not to back up. "You're doing all the work, and he's getting all the credit!" Mae snapped. "Oh, go to Hell." Mae's jaw dropped, and she stared at her friend. "Why? What is your /problem/?" Bea's eyes were squeezed shut now, and her mouth was twisted into a grimace. "Here's some reality for you: You know Creek? Repair guy Creek, at the shop?" "...Yeah?" "When I was fifteen he asked my dad if he could teach my how to drive. And my dad said no, and then told me not to be alone with him." "Oh my God." Mae whispered. "Yeah. Exactly. And you know what? He still works for us." "Why haven't you fired him?!" "I can't fire people! And, even if I could, he's on the crew. Frankly, he's our best guy. Practically heads up the repair team, since my dad's not doing anything!" Bea's voice was losing it's anger, and melting into disdain and exhaustion. "Creek's got a family, and he needs to work." "I'm gonna be sick." "Yeah! Me too! I have /no power/, Mae, and I can't change that." Mae paused, not caring that she was being blunt. "I'm just saying, if you keep letting these dudes off the hook-" "Off the hook?!" "Like, you're stronger than this, Bea." Mae gestured wildly. "You're like... Badass, and shit!" Bea froze. "Y-you..." Bea slowly sat up, and rose to her full height. Fueled by anger, Mae stared Bea dead in the eye, stepping forward. Every inch of Bea seemed to be dripping with fury, outrage, and most surprisingly... hurt? Bea's temper was barely in check, and Mae could see her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. All of her features that had before seemed pretty, were now imposing. Her dark eyeshadow made her eyes look fierce, and cold. Her long painted nails brought on thoughts of metal screeching on a chalkboard. Her half shaven head, and the little knobs of black hair bunched up at the back stopped being cool, and started being foreign, and odd. It's amazing how different things seem when you look through a different perspective. "Badass?" Her voice was trembling now. "My mom dying was not very 'badass'." "Me sitting in this tiny, mess of a room complaining is not very 'badass'." Her voice cracked, and she gritted her teeth. Tears were glinting in Bea's eyes, and Mae's fury and delusion began dissipating on the spot. "I... Okay, sorry, I-" "Your are such a shithead, you know that?" "What the hell?" Nope, never mind. It was back. "You don't get it, Mae. Most people can't just get up and 'choose' to do whatever it is you decree to be the right thing! Because they /can't/ do anything else!" "You can /always/ choose." "Choose what?" Bea's voice was scathing. "No, tell me. What is my choice here?" "Tell your dad you're not gonna take this!" Mae shouted. Really, it was surprising he hadn't heard them screaming already. "Tell him what? What is your magic solution, that /I/ need to do?" Mae opened her mouth to respond, but Bea held up a hand, silencing her. "I am seriously gonna punch your goddamn lights out." Bea didn't break eye contact, but her voice lost some of its wrath, exhaustion overlaying her tone. "You come in here and start telling me how /I'm/ screwing things up? You want to come in here and say, 'Oh yeah, just ditch your dad, who is both getting old, and can barely get off the couch half the time'? You want to come in here and say, 'Oh yeah, just start this big drama, and make your life way more stressful?'" "It's just not right is what I'm saying!" Mae said, ignoring the guilt prickling over her. "Yeah. It isn't. Nothing's right. The whole effing world isn't right. Like Gregg is probably off doing /God knows/ what wacky shit right now, and I'm here making an awful dinner and doing payroll. You know, like, /nothing/ about my life. You just know what I should do." Mae bit the inside of her cheek. "And you- you're the last person I'd ask for advice." Bea said. Mae finally looked away, staring down at the musty, worn carpet. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Bea's voice was raspy, and tired. "Yeah, you're sorry. Everyone's sorry. But you don't get it. You did what you wanted. You threw away the thing that I've always wanted- that I've dreamt about for years. And now you're here, waltzing in and telling me I should do the same with my life. But I can't, Mae. I have responsibilities. This is it for me. This is all I have, and I can't just walk away from it." Mae looked up, and Bea looked like a hollow shell of herself. Eyes tired, posture weary, face drawn, and sad. "I should go." Mae whispered. "You should go." And with that, Mae departed from the tiny, rundown house, and walked home. ------------------------------------------ ((I wanted to add another scene in here, one that wasn't included in the real bit, but idk what to do???? bc rn its basically a rewrite, with added dialogue and emotion and monologue??? if u have any thoughts let me kno!))
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