#weirdo lab-grown boy.

[mysteriosuke]

ciaran... please... this is a mcdonalds...

#not putting this in the main tags as i am a COWARD #ciaran why do you have to make everything weird #weirdo boy. #weirdo lab-grown boy.

[archive2394934]

I think the duffers severely underestimated how deeply fucked up and cruel the younger queer community is toward the older queer community when they decided to have Henry be in his 30s rather than making him younger like, say, Billy (Not to say people aren't unbelievably fucked up toward Billy in this fandom because ooo boy, I learned some shit recently. But for Billy its a different reason and that basically being a whole lot of performative weirdos trying waaay too hard to virtue signal.) 

I mean, it (Henry’s age) makes perfect sense from the in-story perspective given social constructs are a huge point of commentary and earlier times are notorious for the extreme inhumanity “Society” showed toward anyone deemed “different.” The further back into the 20th century we go, the worse it gets, but honestly. But, yeah, it truly seems Henry’s age has been the source of where a lot of the most fucked up nasty things said and thought about him truly comes from.  Which is another thing I was meaning to talk about with Henry is how he is in fact in his 30s but funnily enough he’s framed younger. Which, I’ve talked about Henry’s Obvious Autism, but infantilization of people with ND and disabilities is so common and a big issue.  And I think we can assume Henry suffered this. I honestly don’t think Henry did a lot to get treated like a 31 year old man or to know how to behave exactly as one as a result. I mean he would have wanted to, he would have wanted to think of himself as a grown adult to the best of his (limited) ability, with his own developed thoughts, feelings, aspirations, etc, but given Henry’s only form of “social interaction” with others was probably with the people who were keeping him as their literal slave (Brenner and his facility) or with literal children, and “slavery” -- and being a body to be experimented on/with was his ONLY life for a long and terrible 20 years (longer than he was ever “”free””), I can imagine Henry being extremely naïve in a lot of “odd” ways (Or ways that would at least be considered odd to “normal” people) and a little out of touch with lots of things including with what's considered ‘appropriate’ for his age and how an adult is truly expected to be, as an actual adult, and not as someone whose only mode of action as an adult to be as obedient and agreeable possible, like a child.  Henry probably spent his time when he wasn’t forced to act as an “orderly” drawing, maybe reading books, maybe writing stories, doing crosswords, coloring, sometimes joining in with the child test subjects with their games (though mostly while he was ‘acting’ as an orderly) just doing little things but nothing indicative of his age (like building personal relationships, traveling, having an actual education, moving through a career, following his own dreams and ambitions, etc)  beside the small menial chores in his position as an ‘orderly’, which was basically a glorified janitor.  But then on top of that Henry doesn’t even look his age. And I noticed that in the subtitles they don’t even identify Henry as a man. He’s identified as “boy”. Thats extremely odd for a male because men usually don’t get the same treatment as women, where girl and woman can be used interchangeably often but “boy” and “man” usually aren't. (Which is a whole other bag a shit I am not getting into in this post)  Its very sad to think about because Henry started out his unwilling life in the lab as a little boy, but he grew up. And I imagine as he grew he was obviously never actually allowed to be a ‘man’ but instead he was treated as a freakish in-between. Someone who is treated like a child, someone with no autonomy but who is not offered the same type of ‘sympathy’ or treated with the same delicacy as a child might be based entirely on the virtue of physically being a child. (Not to say the children in the lab were treated really well.)  And that being a lot to contend with mentally and emotionally to say the least. Like the gradual shift of having, particularly Brenner, a man who would have initially presented himself to Henry as kind and sympathetic person who wanted to understand and help him, turn into this cold vehicle of contempt and disappointment, as Henry continued to “fail” to be Brenner’s perfect weapon until eventually there's nothing left but a man and all his subordinates who suddenly don’t want to help you, they just want to hurt and control you, keep you locked away and under their heels, like you're nothing but an animal and your only worth is now the minor services you can preform around the facility that is your prison.  And yeah, side note, I think Brenner and his similarly likeminded associates took a lot of pleasure out of this. Even if they were initially pissed they couldn’t seem to make Henry “work” the way they wanted and remained kinda pissed about it, I could imagine these “mediocre” people felt pretty awesome about being able to abuse and imprison someone with the remarkable powers Henry had. Which would make their cruelty toward him emphasized and probably why we see that wild level of brutality and willingness to beat his ass at the drop of a hat from his “fellow” orderlies.  Also reference this post.  Anyway, Henry has pretty much never been “free.” And he has pretty much almost never been allowed to be an actual “person” either. His human life is one of non stop oppression, abuse and exploitation. And I feel like all of these kinds of things need to be taken into account when talking about him, regardless to what you think about him or how you choose to interpret Vecna’s actions. Because while Vecna’s “”actions”” might be able to be looked at as “”debatable,”” Henry’s actions and the position he was in is not. 

#henry creel #vecna #001 #stranger things #anyway if its not obvs I think he deserves to be evil as a treat <3 #I don’t want to apologise for Vecna’s murders – I’m not sorry

[ransprang]

How would the characters Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi and Caitlyn react to discovering the reader's secret that she is a monster, a vampire, will they be afraid of the reader? Or I accept, because despite the reader being a vampire, she is very affectionate and friendly.

(the reader needs to drink blood, but she can still eat regular food too, the reader looks like that of a human, the only difference would be her teeth)

Arcane cast x vampire!reader

Viktor

Accept.

- He is different so are you, he doesn't see much of a problem since you aren't murdering anyone

- He calls you a vegetarian and is happy to watch you eat normal food since he only eats through an IV drip to stay alive.

- He will be intrigued by your healing abilities since he cant heal. He is jealous of your immortality sometimes but he masks it well with his eyebags.

(we have a vampire!viktor x reader fanfic btw)

Jayce

Accept.

- He is a science boy and you are a scientific anomaly, you're a vampire and can eat human food? how does it work.

- He's too nice to dissect you so he will ask you questions trying to find a cure for his brother Viktor.

- Get ready for "what da vampire doin?" jokes, he will walk into the lab saying that as you get interrogated by Viktor. (this is a reference to the 'what da dog doin' meme lol)

Jinx

Accept.

- She will be so happy, she will go even more crazy.

- She will offer your her blood and the blood of her kills.

- She will observe you eat human food or even sucking blood with a huge curious smile on her face.

- Get ready to get introduced to Silco as her favourite person because she just cant keep her eyes off you.

- Jinx would ask too many questions, enough to write a small booklet.

Vi

Reject at first. Accept later on.

- Vi would initially be freaked out but later on she will get used to the idea. After all you aren't being totally weird.

- Vi would ask you lewd questions about whats the sexiest place you've sucked blood from.

- She will come up with a nickname for you such as red velvet cake, because you are her favourite bloodsucker.

Caitlyn

Reject.

- She has grown up in piltover, she ain't ever seen weirdos like you.

- She would be super scared and would try to maintain her distance at first.

- Later on, she would muster the courage to be around you as she is an enforcer but still maintain a distance.

- admin sav & san

#arcane #viktor x reader #arcane x reader #viktor #league of legends x reader #arcane league of legends #viktor league of legends x reader #lol x reader #arcane viktor #lol jayce #lol vi x reader #arcane vi x reader #vi x reader #vi arcane #arcane fanfic #vi arcane x reader #vi imagine #caitlyn imagine #caitlyn x reader #jinx x reader

[driftveil-crossing]

Let’s talk about the Pokemon Black and White ending

In this essay big list I will be exploring my slightly messy angsty headcanon of the events transpiring after the main game story in Black and White (with a bit of ferriswheelshipping thrown in) so strap urselves in and enjoy the ride!!

you arrive back home in Nuvema town and collapse right into bed despite mom trying desperately “you’ve had a long trip you need to rest please eat something” - the last 24 hours have been intense and you just saved Unova from a cult and your brain is frazzled and your feet are sore and you just need to switch off for a while

then the next morning afternoon when you eventually resurface and you feel slightly more alive but still head mushy you go downstairs and there’s some weirdo policeman dressed as your mom standing in your kitchen

“Good job on stopping the cult but actually the leaders escaped so we need your help again xxx”

and so off you go as a literal teenager to save the region for the second time while Bianca and Cheren go off on their own paths. They both seem to be happy and know what their goals are now and you are just still so lost 

because your aim (at least for that moment) was to defeat the elite 4 and become the champion

now the elite 4 and champion have grown even stronger because they vowed to never let just any trainer face the champion and threaten the peace of the nation again - rendering all your training useless

and you don’t believe you have either the determination or the blinding innocence anymore -your battles have become flat ever since you left that horrid castle

the small but overwhelming thought in your brain is saying do you even want to be the champion? did you ever want to be the champion?

and you hate that stupid boy with his stupid long green hair who told you you were the chosen one but then left you standing there cold and entirely alone

despite this, after some encouraging from your mom, Cheren and Bianca as well as some of the other gym leaders (who you grew closer to in the aftermath), you decide to throw yourself back into training again

after all, it fills a void

during this you spend time in Castelia city training at the battle company and slowly but surely your flair and fire for battling starts to re emerge. your pokemon notice that you’re slightly more present and more you than you have been for a while, and they respond to this by really trying in battle

but even though you are 90% certain your Pokémon enjoy battling alongside you, there’s still that small voice questioning:

is it really right for me to keep you here? You give your all in battle, but is that just because you are trapped? Should you be free like he said you should?

you decide eventually to challenge the league again. Everyone around you is supportive while also slightly wary because of what happened to you the last time (but nobody would ever tell you that last part)

it’s strange to be back at this plateau, but you are just as successful as you were almost a year ago and power through the elite 4 without a hitch

then you reach Alder and he thanks you for defeating N before you battle, which takes you aback at first because you have actively pushed down his name since that day

but rightly in battle you flourish

and suddenly those silly childhood dreams are true and now you’re the Champion of Unova

the immense pride you feel for your partners for battling so well is once again diminished with this feeling that something is still missing

and so you return home and are juggling your new champion duties with a strict training regime, and you wish that you could just enjoy it because this is what you wanted, right?

Bianca sees how hard you’re working and suggests taking a weekend off and a trip to Nimbasa city to see the musical, which should be a good chance to “relax and just be you instead of the champion for the weekend”

but you arrive and something feels wrong, though you push it down because you don’t want to ruin this weekend

when Bianca has to return back to the lab on Monday, you decide to stay a day longer in Nimbasa to chase this feeling

then you find yourself underneath the ferris wheel and it all hits at once

you realise that all of this nothingness was caused by him - no, his absence

and while you found him odd and frustrating at times and oh my arceus he spoke so fast, all you want now is to sit on the ferris wheel together like you did before he told you he was the king - that moment when everything changed

next you’re crying on the ferris wheel in broad daylight and you just want him to be standing at the bottom to hug you again and say “hello champion”

and though it’s impulsive and destructive and ruins everything you worked for all these years, you know in that moment what you have to do

and so you tell Alder that you are stepping down, and he is surprised but silently understands your reasoning

but then you have to tell your mother, who obviously has questions as to why before you fly off on reshiram to seek truths or ideals or whatever 

and for the first time in years, the first time since that fateful day in the castle, your head is clear

all you need to answer is “I’m going to find N”

#pokemon #pokemon black and white #pokemon black #pokemon white #pokemon bw #bw #pokemon black and white 2 #pokemon bw2 #pokemon n #trainer n #n #natural harmonia gropius #n harmonia #n x hilda #n x hilbert #n x touko #n x touya #ferriswheelshipping #champion alder #alder #elite 4 #unova #unova pokemon #reshiram #zekrom #zorua #zoroark #pokemon headcanon #pokemon black and white headcanon #headcanon

[boop-le-snoot]

BUTT-DIAL? NO, BOOTY CALL | tony stark

explicit, 5,4k words. wrong number text, family shame & wedding drama that isn't even his and a ruined first date. despite the implications of the situation, both reader and tony are very entertained. meet-ugly series, part three.

[no y/n, no "you", no name, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

💚 masterlist ☀️ taglist & faq 💚

Another sunny day spent wasted in a conference room full of boring, old, conceited chairmen. Tony Stark vehemently refused to commiserate with them, their boring speeches and blunt, straightforward thinking. Sitting through a meeting was like walking on nails barefoot: painful, pointless. Mind-numbing.

His phone beeped loudly and he reached into his pocket, pretending to not see Pepper's disapproving look. Both of them knew he was hoping for a sudden Assemble call - that would surely get him out of the meeting - but as much as he hoped, they never struck at the right time.

Except, this time it wasn't a call for assistance, and neither it was an automated spam message with Pizza Hut promo codes. Tony's eyebrows drew close and his lips upturned as he read and re-read the obvious rant written on his screen, typing up his answer before he managed to resist the morbid curiosity that was fueled by his boredom.

Whoever it was, they were justifiably angry and the whole situation was almost too comical to be true, except he'd known people exactly like the runaway bride, selfish, greedy and stupid. He totally understood the woman's desire to just go and load up on tequila shots somewhere - so he bid her a haste farewell, all the while snickering to himself.

"It's Rogers," Tony offered in the way of explanation to a glaring Pepper, locking his phone away and settling in to continue pretending he was listening as another old, crusty white man offered his input on topics he was too much of a dinosaur to even really know about.

He couldn't stop thinking about the incident over the days, the story making him snort more times than he could count as the memory randomly crossed his mind in the lab, at the coffee pot or during dinner. So when a message came through from that very same number, the smirk snuck up onto his face before he even read its contents.

A brief crash course in memes from Parker had turned out to be more useful than ever. Irritating Rogers with pictures got old very fast, however, in moments Tony got rendered speechless they proved to be the perfect substitute for trying to articulate all his thoughts on the matter.

Celebrity appearance, she said? More likely than one would think. The engineer had nearly doubled over in a fit of laughter when she'd texted him that; obviously, the woman had no clue who she was texting with and he decided to further indulge in his curiosity by asking for her name: Friday did the rest.

A phone number and a name, ten minutes, and all her social media were free for him to stalk. Investigate- uh, observe. With little effort, Tony found both her and her brother, the unlucky groom, and the runaway bride and even her step-dad. On paper, they all looked like average middle-class families. Nothing seemed amiss.

It didn't mean anything, but Tony caught himself thinking about the woman. Perhaps it might have been the mischievous gleem in her eyes that was easily spotted in every picture or perhaps the raunchy sense of humour not much different from his own. Pretty, witty and smart - what's there not to like?

"So that's why you've been going around, smiling like a middle-schooler with a crush," Natasha's voice whisper-shouted in Tony's ear as the spy discreetly peered over his shoulder into his phone. He had the chat pulled up, debating on starting a casual conversation-

"Jesus Christ, Romanoff, somebody needs to put a bell on you," Tony snapped, startled, pressing the button to lock his phone immediately.

"Uhuh," The redhead replied, side-eyeing a snickering Barnes. "Who is she?"

Tony rubbed his face, feeling the beginnings of a blush starting to creep in. He felt like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to and the rest of the team acting like children wasn't helping the matter. "I got a butt-dial text about some wedding drama. Some chick's brother's fiance was fucking her own stepdad and ditched the wedding for her old man."

Stunned silence settled briefly into the room as Romanoff's eyes widened and Barnes choked on his orange juice. Serves him right, Tony thought, and continued his coffee-making process in quiet irritation.

"Wait, wait, hold on," Wilson half-laughed half-yelled. "You gotta spill the tea, man, this sounds too good to be true. Stories like that just don't fall into your hands."

With a sigh, he recounted the woman's story and read the texts aloud, silencing his snickering enough to be able to keep a straight face - but not for long, Rogers decided it was the time for another one of his Captain America Is Disappointed In You speeches and Tony himself couldn't even disagree.

Now that he thought about it, he came off as a kind of asshole. She and her family was going through something traumatic and he went and treated it like free entertainment. Which, to be fair, it was, but she didn't deserve to be treated like a circus clown. She actually seemed like a good sister and friend.

"Just text her," Natasha rolled her eyes at him, grabbing the coffee pot out of his frozen hand. "You're not Steve, you can keep a decent conversation via text."

Being compared to Steve and his pre-historic messaging habits really did a number on Tony's ego; the eyeroll he gave Romanoff was truly out of this world, all but teleporting him to his lab where he tried to find a way to approach the woman without coming off as incredibly creepy, as if the fact that he'd stalked her on social media didn't already put him firmly into the weirdo category.

Most likely, Tony would have spent many many days on overthinking before just grabbing one of his suits to make a truly impressive landing on her small balcony downtown; thankfully, fate had intervened and saved him from making another epic mistake. He'd made a note to ask Thor about it sometime, settling down with his tablet and popcorn bowl to watch TV on the team's movie night.

Or, more precisely, Tony settled in to watch the drama unfold as the various members of the team fought tooth and nail for the film that they wanted to watch. He never cared about it much, dozing off halfway through most of them - his teammates had the worst taste in movies - so he didn't bother joining the scuffle except when it was Peter's turn to pick. For obvious reasons.

"If you can't decide I'm gonna have someone else pick a movie," Natasha rolled her eyes, equally fed up with fully grown adults acting like spoiled toddlers.

With a stutter of his breath, Tony's hand reached for his phone as he had an Idea.

Seconds tickled as the "typing..." bubble appeared and disappeared multiple times. She must think he's just a thirsty frat boy; Tony's brow furrowed, but the curiosity was far too strong in him. Something about her vibe, her feisty nature captivated him and kept him thinking about her.

The agreement came as a surprise. In the two minutes the woman had spent thinking up her answer, Tony prepared himself to be rebuffed gently, or, worst case, be called a creep. But no - she agreed, but not before vehemently insisting that if he would end up being a creepy serial killer, she would haunt his ass for the remainder of his life.

Friday couldn't come soon enough. Tony spent most of the day loitering between his lab and the penthouse, glancing at his phone every now and then to make sure she wouldn't cancel on him last minute. The engineer wanted to see the witty, no-filter-having woman in the flesh.

And see her, he did. He'd pulled up in front of the hole-in-the wall Ramen&Bar place Clint had been raving about weeks prior - contrary to popular belief, Tony was perfectly fine with going to places that didn't have Michelin stars - and leaned against the door of his Audi R8, eyes immediately taking note of the figure calmly walking down the street, head tilted down where she was typing up a reply to him.

Tony smirked as she lifted her face up to see him, mouth immediately falling open. The shock was obvious; it lasted mere seconds until her shoulders dropped and she sighed almost... In disappointment. He frowned.

"I jinxed it, didn't I? Here's my celebrity appearance," The laugh was a little nervous and quite sardonic. "Hi, Tony, nice to finally see you."

He smiled, unsure, quipping back easily. "Let's face it, I'm not the worst famous Tony out there." Opening the door of the building for the woman, she stepped in eagerly enough, eyes immediately falling on the bartender and the few dimly lit tables in the back.

"Not by any means," She turned towards him, walking backwards. Tony met her stare; it was just like he'd imagined it to be, curious, mischievous and a little daring. She didn't even attempt to play subtle, raking over him from head to toe. "Not at all, I think," She gave another teasing smile, finally turning around, addressing the bartender and rattling off her order without as much as looking at the menu.

Tony couldn't stop staring. He was aware it was creepy, she was aware of his clever brown eyes barely paying attention to their surroundings or the beer or the food. The woman just quirked an eyebrow every time she caught him. His curiosity couldn't wait any more. "Why aren't you freaking out?" He blurted out, cursing himself out almost immediately after the words left his mouth.

"My almost-sister-in-law was fucking her own stepdad," The woman deadpanned. "I ran out of fucks to give, sorry." She thoughtfully chewed her food, briefly looking to the side. "Not to sound like an asshole, but don't you have enough people fawning over you? Doesn't it get old?"

Tony nodded, choosing to stay silent on the matter besides offering an amicable, "That's valid."

The mischief lit up again in her eyes. "You look taller on TV," She snorted, immediately falling into a fit of laughter at his face full of outrage. He sputtered, muttering something about audacity of some people, which made her only laugh harder. "Here's a pro tip from my 4'11 bestie: when someone calls you short, you snarl at them and say you're fun-sized. She swears by it," The woman remarked conversationally, grinning a two hundred watt smile.

Tony was glad at least someone was enjoying their little... Date. "And you know all about fun, don't you?" He aimed for grumpy; it came out as teasing. His famous smirk made a return appearance as he watched her throat bob.

The atmosphere between them had changed at some point; the same old routine of teasing and dancing around each other, but this time, Tony all but purred in satisfaction, finally meeting someone who was an even match to his wit and charm.

"I do," She replied with that cocky confidence, her devil eyes lighting up, lingering on his face. "Got a problem with that?"

The plate was pushed away, napkin falling into the food carelessly as he gestured for the waiter to bring the check. "As a scientist, I cannot confirm whether a theory is true until I have direct evidence," The bullshit flowed easily from his mouth, but the woman appeared to be amused by it - for a change. "M'fraid I'm gonna need that evidence," His fingers drummed on the table, impatiently, inches away from her hand.

"Of course, Mr. Stark," Her voice dropped, she was fully aware of what she was doing by calling him that. That, and those deep, magnetic eyes made Tony's trousers feel a little too tight for comfort.

His phone rang loudly, dissipating the atmosphere they had created with a shrill noise. Captain Cockblock struck again.

Fumbling fingers, Tony tapped the green icon, shooting an apologetic look to the woman. "Rogers, there better be another alien invasion or I'm revoking your phone privileges," The woman chortled, taking a sip of her beer, trying hard not to seem like she was listening in and failing spectacularly at it. "Today, out of all days? Can't Strange fill in for me?" The engineer palmed his face, running a hand through his neatly done-up hair. It would be covered in soot and sweat in an hour anyways. "Fine, I'll be there in twenty minutes. Romanoff better be hauling Barton's lazy ass out of Bed-Stuy." With a frown, Tony poked the red icon and stuffed the phone back in his pocket, looking for all and all, like an angry adolescent.

The woman, however, didn't indicate any signs of displeasure. Her hand timidly reached out for his, giving it a brief squeeze. "Go, save the world, Mr. Stark," Her smile was sympathetic. They both stood up at the same time, Tony watching her incredulously as the woman untied a scrap of red fabric from around her neck and placed it around his wrist, tying the fabric with a loose but, frankly, pretty knot. "I like that bandanna, would be a shame if you didn't return it," She explained, shrugging her shoulders.

Tony snorted, fondly rolling his eyes, before beelining for the door, activating his Iron Man suit on the way out. Turning around before take off, he noticed her throw a couple of crumpled bills to the server who was too busy ogling him.

He forgot to pay for dinner, Tony realized as he made his way to the other part of the city. Well, fuck, he would definitely have to see her again.

---

An alien invasion during her first good date in ages - scribble, scribble, sigh. She couldn't do much more than that - just as she thought her string of bad luck had ended, the world turned around and flipped her a juicy bird, all but laughing straight in her face. Like that already wasn't enough, oh no, she groused as she spied the debris and random abandoned cars on her way home - it looked like some portion of the battle had been close to her home and only the sheer mental exhaustion that resulted from her life being turned upside down during the last month prevented her from having a full-on freak-out in the middle of the eerily quiet street.

Truly, the fucks she had to give had been expired.

The gloomy mood was interrupted by a cry - for help or of outrage, she didn't know, but the kindness in her, the very values she'd been raised with didn't allow her just to walk by, and with another resigned sigh, she tucked the nice blouse she'd put on for the date under her warm sweater and set off in the direction of the sound, finding the culprit in little under a couple of minutes.

Freeing the trapped civilian wasn't easy but, thankfully, neither it required super-strength or any kind of heavy machinery. The man thanked her and with him in tow, both of them set off to inspect nearby nooks and crannies. Logic won that day - if there's was one person, there could be more.

Hours later, sweaty, sore and bruised, the woman greedily chugged the water bottle someone had passed onto her as the amount of medics and firefighters had finally reached the threshold of when her help wasn't needed anymore. While her date and his colleagues fought whatever nasty that thought NYC was a sandbox battleground for their amusement, the woman found herself helping out with retrieval & evacuation of the civilians that didn't make it out of the neighborhood before the heat of the fight reached it. There were no deaths registered as of then and deep inside, she felt proud, knowing that she had contributed to the statistic at least a little.

Her phone was dying, her body was covered in dirt and scratches from head to toe and the bruises were beginning to ache. Tony's worry-worting was cute but the tiredness overcame her, making her brain sluggish and her demeanor short, so she hastily pocketed the phone, trailing over to the closest man in uniform she could spot.

"Sir?" She addressed him, eyeing the unfamiliar logo on his jacket. "Can I go, please?" She pointed to the yellow tape surrounding the makeshift medical station.

"I'm going to have to see your ID first," He replied apologetically, tapping away on his tablet.

With a sigh, she dug through her purse, giving it to him and using the brief moment of respite to smooth back her hair and dust off her clothing. There was a cloud of concrete and dirt surrounding her.

"I'm afraid I can't let you go just yet, Mr. Stark left strict instructions for you to be picked up by him personally," The agent gave the ID back with a suspicious glint in his eye.

"Oh c'mon," The annoyed whine escaped her lips before she registered it. "It was our first date," She offered to the puzzled agent, only succeeding in making him lean back and inspect her with a raised eyebrow. "Bye," She replied none too kindly, walking off to find a place to sit down.

The time passed in a strange way. The aches and pains and exhaustion made it stop, and if someone would have asked her, she wouldn't know how much of it has passed until her eyes reluctantly cracked open at the sound of a familiar voice, coming to see a pair of expensive shoes covered in dust. At least she wasn't the only one that looked like she'd taken a roll through someone's gritty attic.

"Morning, you Tasmanian Devil," Tony sounded jovial, all things considered.

"Hello to you too, Tin Can," The woman greeted him on par, without missing a beat.

"Now, now," He offered her his hand, which she took gratefully, before pulling her to her feet. "I come with peace offerings. Your building is under quarantine and I've got a perfectly good bed and a shower with thirty settings on it at my place. Whatcha say?"

She only pretended to think about it. Her reply was haste. "I don't make a habit of going into strange dudes' towers but I'll make an exception this once." A shower and a bed sounded heavenly.

Finally getting the chance to look at him, Tony appeared to be unhurt but equally exhausted and dirty. A few scrapes on his face and arms, he was missing his blazer, and had a weary tone to his face. Some parts of his Iron Suit were still on him - like the chest plate - but besides that, he was whole. The red of the bandanna she gave him was equally dirty but still neatly tied around his wrist, just like she left it.

"How's your relationship with heights?" He asked her and all she could do was blink, watching curiously as his body was enveloped by the red and gold, crawling over his skin like a swarm of shiny termites. That was all the warning she got before the metal arms - quite literally - sweeped her off her feet. "Faster this way," She could hear the nonchalant shrug in the metallic voice coming from the helmet. "Now hold on."

Awe and fear culminated inside the woman but the weariness had long since surpassed comfortable levels and all she did was give a weak nod and close her eyes as Tony lifted off, gusts of wind making her skin break out in goosebumps and her hair stand up wildly on her head. During the short trip her eyes fluttered open only once just to close back up immediately - all she saw were clouds, white and fluffy, like marshmallows, and the shining beacons of NYC skyscrapers somewhere far away.

The paralyzing anxiety fully dissipated only when her feet found purchase on the tiled floors, Tony's arms never ceasing to support her swaying frame until the breaths she took were her own and not the result of her fluttering heart and muted panic. "You with me, Wonder Woman?"

"Yes, Weird Science," She mumbled. "Thanks for the heads up," The annoyance had to find a way out and that it did.

"You're welcome," The cocky smirk returned to Tony's face as his suit receded, leaving him barefoot, dirty jeans and a torn tee. He stretched with a sweet groan, gesturing towards the door. "Friday will direct you towards the showers. Feel free to grab a t-shirt from the closet."

The woman nodded, too awestruck by the man and his hospitality, eyes darting all over the tastefully decorated room, the expensive knick-knacks scattered everywhere, the absolutely enormous sloppily made bed. Tony Stark liked to live luxuriously - even the shower was a state of the art technological wonder.

Dirty pants and dusty blouse went flying somewhere in the back of the bathroom as the woman stood up on her tippy toes, reaching for the sky, stretching her sore muscles. The glass wall of the shower had began to fog up from the hot water. The knock went barely noticed by the woman who jumped as Tony's voice startled her out of her daydream.

"Forgot I ran out of towels here..." He trailed off, voice dropping as he spotted her only in her underwear. She turned, responding with a lopsided grin, spying the stack of fluffy grey in his arms, the arc reactor in the middle of his bare chest. He smirked, "Damn. Can I join you?" Giving her what only could be described as a respectful once-over.

Tired as she was, her sense of humour and wit didn't go down for a much needed nap just yet. "I don't know, you tell me. Can you?" Turning back around, the woman made a short show of unclasping her bra and tossing it in the general vicinity of her dirty clothing pile. She'd worn a cute matching set of undies that day and the fact didn't go over Tony's head, she was sure.

The door clicked shut just as she raised her face to the stream of water, feeling calmer with each second, muscles relaxing themselves as the hot stream washed away the dirt and the dust off her body.

"And I thought this evening was ruined," Tony's voice insinuated from behind her. A hand reached for the soap, his body heat scorching compared to the steaming water. He stayed just a few inches away, enough to feel him, enough for her body to respond and crave more. "It's nice to be wrong for a change. Refreshing."

The woman hummed, reaching up to run her fingers through her wet, knotted hair. "First decent evening in ages. I wasn't gonna let some uninvited Predator knock-offs ruin it for me," She was more than a little peeved at the space invaders interrupting her nice date. Tony was a great conversationalist, it was easy to talk to him and he had a brilliant sense of humour. Not to mention the obvious, he was easy on the eyes.

"That's the spirit," The voice was closer now, almost in her ear. Even though her eyes were closed, the woman was aware he was reaching for something, letting him butt her hands out of the way to lather her hair, scrubbing at her scalp meticulously, until the sounds that left her mouth bordered on embarrassing. Once that was done, Tony moved onto her body, running his hands over her back, the outside of her hips. "M'not stepping over, am I?" He asked quietly, touch faltering every time he brushed over a scrape or a bruise.

"No, you're doing great, Tony," It wasn't exactly conventional - sharing a very intimate shower after an interrupted first date, but then again, nothing about this man was conventional and her life had already been turned upside down no less than twice recently. The woman didn't lie, the gentle, caring touch felt soothing.

Arching her back, she lifted her arms to repay him with the same, raking her fingers through his hair, leaning into the shudder that ran throughout his body. It was nice to bask in whatever they had going on, so the motion to face him was almost reluctant. Water droplets stuck to his eyelashes and his eyes were tired but not in a way that suggested he'd kick her out first chance.

Their kiss was sweet, slow, like they already were familiar with each other in a special way. The woman tugged on his lip with her teeth - such was her character - and he pressed closer to her, raising a hand to hold the side of her face. In muted curiosity, she couldn't help but wonder if there ever had been someone that waited for him once his battles were over.

Tony's eyelashes, the very same that had no business being this long on a man, fluttered against her cheek as they stood under the shower, letting water wash away the day.

"I've always wanted to kiss in the rain, like they do in the movies. This is the closest I've gotten," She whispered, gently kneading the arch of his shoulders. "Feels better than it looks, to be honest."

Tony snorted, reaching for the knob to turn it off. "Cheesy," He teased her, wrapping a warm, fluffy towel around her body. Both people made quick work of drying themselves, exiting the fogged up bathroom, making way into the bedroom, padding soft on the carpet and falling down on the bed carelessly.

"I'm the queen of cheesy one-liners," The woman raised her eyebrows, scooting under the sheets next to Tony who opened his arms wide, a smirk on his face. She didn't give him the chance to reply, slotting her lips over his instead and groaning as their heated bodies once again rested against each other.

She ran her hands over Tony's defined pecs, glossing over the arc reactor, raked nails over his tummy, eating up the sighs leaving his mouth at the gesture. He was a beautiful man, she wasn't going to lie to herself. The warmth that settled low in her belly grew, spreading throughout her limbs and temporarily overshadowing the exhaustion.

The engineer, too, was quite excited - his erection poked her hip - and content to be steered to her wishes by the hand in his hair. Groans and sighs left his moist, parted lips as his eagerness bled into his hands, grip firm and steady on the panting woman's hips.

Adrenaline did something to her body, caused it to ache sweetly, a hunger to be satisfied only by a lover's touch. And touch she did; her mouth tasted him, alternating sucking gentle marks onto his throat and nibbling on the skin stretched thinly over his collarbones. Tony's sighs grew in depth and volume with every silent action of worship.

No inch of his body was left untouched, the woman was an all-hands-on-deck kind of lover, happily making her way down until soft lips wrapped around the crown of his cock, making his hips arch into it, hands fisted in the soft white sheets. "You devil," Tony gasped out, limbs turning to jelly, watching the woman all but devour his cock.

She popped off minutely, a trail of sticky saliva running down her chin, sticking to his glistening cock. "The power of Christ compels me?" With a smirk, her tongue trailed from his balls to the very tip, paying extra attention to the frenulum, making Tony shudder and gasp out an embarrassed laugh.

"Uh-uh," Stripped of his usual snark, he was but a man at her mercy.

"It's not very compelling," The predatory stretch of her lips widened as she took mercy on him, giving his cock a few slow tugs with her hand. Her mouth, her hand and his cock were dripping. "Gonna let me do all the legwork, Mr. Stark?" She sat up straighter, inadvertently drawing his eyes to the apex of her thighs where the woman's sex glistened in the dim light, lips swollen and inviting.

It sounded like she was mocking him, teasing him, egging him into a lustful frenzy none of them had the energy for but craved anyway. Tony Stark wasn't the one to back down from a fair challenge so he relented, flipping them over with ease, landing between her spread legs, eyes drawn to the momentary bounce of her breasts. Tony wasted no time in suckling a hard nipple into his mouth, humming in response to her choked-off moan of surprise.

"Tony," Her body arched into his touch, tender skin hot under the callouses on his fingertips.

"Yes, demon, dear?" A lopsided grin and laughter in his eyes preceded the wet stripe Tony licked down to her navel. "Wasn't there something about not telling demons your name? Guess you have power over me now," He trailed off cheekily, soft breaths puffing over her mound.

The woman bit her lip, peering down to rake a hand through Tony's hair, snagging a fistful to gently steer him towards her pussy. Tony's smile was one of satisfaction as he obediently followed her silent order, nosing along the line of her cunt, dipping his tongue to run slow, sloppy lines through the soaked folds.

"Fuck," She mumbled, spreading her legs without shame. "Yeah, right there," Her fingers turned white at the agility of Tony's tongue on her clit. He was swift and relentless in pursuit of the spots that made her moan and clench around nothing. The moisture of her sex soaked his goatee but he couldn't care less.

He growled when she attempted to withdraw, wrapping his muscular arms around her thighs to keep her still for his pleasure, wringing noises that increased in volume with every stroke of his tongue on her sex.

"Tony- please, Tony, I'm gonna-" The warning was brief; her back arched as a broken moan found its way past her moist, parted lips, her pussy spasmed, dripping all over his face and the sheets.

The engineer hid his smile against her thigh, discreetly wiping the obscene amounts of moisture she produced. It wasn't very long until her hands, slightly shaky, were tugging him upwards to meet his face in a rushed, graceless kiss. There was an equal lack of finesse in the glide of his erection along her sex.

"Okay?" He mumbled into her ear, lining himself up with her fluttering cunt.

"Please," She gasped, her hands pushing his hips onto her, eagerly lifting up to accept the sweet intrusion.

There was a quiet stutter in both of their breathing, hearts thudding against their ribs as he finally bottomed out, the thickness of him nestled snugly inside the rippling muscle. The pace he started out was agonizingly slow and inexplicably sweet, neither of them wanting to end their coupling prematurely but not being able to hold back the need that consumed them both.

"Fuck, you're so good to me," Tony's mumbling was overshadowed by the slick sounds coming from the place they were joined. "Gonna fill up this pretty pussy."

The woman keened at the idea, digging her nails into his ass, pulling him further into her.

"You'd like that?" He picked up the pace, blunt tip of his cock catching up with the tail end of her previous orgasm and re-lighting the fire in her belly anew.

"Yeah, Tony, please," No trace of the previous coyness in her voice, the woman was more than ready to beg, murder and steal to feel the man come undone in her arms.

It didn't take long, not with the adrenaline making their blood sing and the chemistry they shared. The brutal pace of Tony's hips quickly grew sloppy and erratic, the tightening of her inner muscles egging him on. He chased his release with deep, powerful thrusts that had the bedsheets rustle pitifully and beads of clear swear drip down his forehead.

As soon as her body arched once more, Tony let go of his control, slotting himself deeply into her spasming heat, cock throbbing as he painted her insides white with his seed, groaning incomprehensible compliments and profanities through his teeth. Chest heaving, the engineer couldn't do much more but let himself carefully fall onto her chest, aftershocks making him twitch when the woman began running a gentle hand through his hair.

"We're doing this again," He decided, still breathless but already a step ahead. She laughed.

Tony Stark taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @downeyreads @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @slothspaghettiwrites @bluecrazedandbeautiful

#bun writes #tony stark smut #tony stark fluff #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark x y/n

[optimistic-dinosaur-nacho]

Bloodshed AU

Chapter 7

Warnings: Nudity, Gore, Language, Adult Themes (Slight smut) Summary: Steve Rogers works in a research and tech company in New York. He’s been digging into myths and footage on a creature known as the werewolf. Vicious as they are, he hunts them. With a lot of failures, his team thinks he’s crazy. He may prove them wrong.

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Characters (Bloodshed Seven)

Chapter 8 is gonna be awesome. Chapter 7 and 8 are gonna be my favorites of all time!

I do not post my stories on any other websites. So if you see them anywhere else, it’s there without my consent. 

Reblog, like and comment!

2 Years Ago.

“Go!” The girl screams, the silver-haired boy starts the car and starts to drive out of the forest. The girl sobs in the passenger seat as the boy reaches over and holds her hand. “Sis, you need to call the police. Do it, now!” 

The girl digs for her phone and pulls it out, she turns to his window side and gasped. “Pietro!” Glass shatters on his side and the beast yelps, pulling away from the window as the boy drove off the road and crashes into the tree.

The girl pulls away from the dash, looking down at her clothes, her sweater covered in blood and she turns to the driver. “No! Pietro!” She grabs his shoulders and shakes him. “Wake up, Pietro... Wake up!” She chokes a sob.

The girl gasps to the loud and long howl of the beast. She pulls her door open and stumbles out. Kicking herself away from the crash, she stumbles onto her feet and runs into the forest.

Another howl was called. She whimpers, stumbling over twigs. The forest could go on for miles. She knew there was a road a little ways out. She runs and trips over the log, crashing into pine needles and dirt. She turns around and picks up a rock, “Stay away from me!” She shouts.

The forest was quiet.

Her panting was harsh and short. She threw the rock over the brush and a low growl erupts from it. She stood up again and continued to run. She heard rustling on her left side. Her right. And behind. 

She sobs and meets the hard ground, she realized she stood on the road. Headlights began to shine and she waved her hands, “Help! Help me please!” The truck stops in front of her and she rushes over to the driver.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?” The man jumps out, she stumbles into his arms. “There’s something in the forest! They killed my brother! They-”

“Ma’am, I need you to calm down-”

“My brother...” She sobs and the man looks out to where she came from. Nothing was following her. Not anymore. The man looks down at her, “What’s your name, ma’am?”

“Wanda... Wanda Maximoff...” She says. He continues to hold her, “Where’s your brother?” Wanda points out to the forest, “We crashed on a dirt road. They... jumped through the window and broke it.” The man sees the blood on her and scans her body, “Are you hurt?” He asked.

She shook her head, knowing she did hit her head hard on the dash, “Call the police, please...” The man nods, shrugging off his jacket, “Here. Take this and sit in the truck. I’ll call the cops.”

He leaves her in front of the truck as he goes for his phone. The girl looks out to the forest. Shaking under his coat, her cheeks soaked in her own tears. She sobs quietly on the road.

.

“What’s your name, ma’am?” The police asked, the girl sat in the back of the ambulance truck. She still had the trucker’s coat as she stared at the ground. “Wanda Maximoff.”

“And what was your brother’s name?”

“Pietro Maximoff.”

“You’re twins,” The officer wrote the things down, “Do you have any parents? Anyone who we can call?” He asked. Wanda looks up to him, her lip lifting up with a low growl, “My parents died in a bombing. Here in Sokovia. Have you not heard? The man who did it got away with just a simple amount of money.”

The officer nods, “I do. And I’m sorry to hear that.” He continued to write some things down and he reaches for his belt and held them there. “You wanna tell me what happened?” Wanda looks over and sees what was Pietro’s body. Being dragged on a gurney into the other ambulance. 

Wanda felt the tear fall, “It was them...” The officer furrows his brows and looks around, “Who is them?” He asked. Wanda lifts up her hand and shook in pure rage. The officer felt chills run up his spine the way she looked. Like a insane woman.

“The Bloodshed Seven...”

Steve sat there in the dark, the only light was still the window as it beamed in the center part of the room. He could see the soft glow of her face. Almost a hint of red glow in her eyes, he thought he might be on something.

Steve looks down in the book and sees that Erik had written down a few questions. He flicks his blue orbs back up to her.

“We read about you in an article back in 2013, you were 18 at the time. Your brother-”

“Pietro,” She blurts out. Steve looks up to her and nods, “Yes. Pietro. They reported that you both went out to visit your grandparents who lived in the woods? Can you tell me what happened?”

“Cold...” She mutters, Steve furrows his brows at her.  She repeated the word in a low whisper. The man shuffled in his seat a little bit as she trailed off, dazing somewhere else. This woman was out of her mind. He needed to keep this going before she does flip out. “Wanda. I need you to focus-” Wanda grabs his shirt and tugs him forward, she was a few feet away but she was quick enough to snatch his shirt into her fists.

“They killed her! They killed Pietro! I was almost killed!” She tugs him back and she stumbles back into the darkness again.

“Like little red riding hood... running,” She says in a higher octave, sounding like a child. Steve fixes his shirt, feeling the uneasiness wash over him, feeling the hairs on his arms stand up. His breathing picked up as he watched her closely. What was the point to get this out of her? What was up with this cold blue moon? Was it a hunting season for the werewolves?

“Out jumped the big bad wolf...” She says in a low voice, picking at her hair as Steve watched her carefully. She felt his gaze and looks up to him, “Bloodshed seven hide... Come out under the cold moon. Little red riding hood has nowhere to hide. The wolf takes her. Tearing her limps, piece...”

Steve felt the nightmare rush through his thoughts. Those dark red eyes staring at him like the devil. Ripping his limps off, piece...

“By piece.” Steve looks over to the woman as she giggles in the corner. “Run. The boy who cried wolf. They will not help you...” Steve felt her dark gaze as she smiles up at him. “You’ll die in the forest... alone.”

Steve felt his heart clench in his chest, he rushed out of the room and the nurse never came to aid him as he rushed out of the building. The large slam of the front doors got Erik’s worried attention and spotted Steve come out, clenching his chest. The old man rushes up, “Rogers! Are you okay? What did she tell you?” He says, hovering his hands over the frightened grown man.

Steve doesn’t respond and slaps the journal into his chest, “We need to leave. Take your damn journal, I’m dropping your ass off at the lab.” With that, Steve jumps in the truck and leans over, panting heavily as he leaned on his wheel. 

The growling filled his ears and he shook his head.

What a crazy woman.

Steve hadn’t contacted the three weirdos from yesterday. Not after seeing Maximoff in that hospital. Gave him a horrifying shock and his nightmares had gotten worse. He didn’t sleep well last night. He remembered when his thumb hovered over his phone to dial Natasha. 

But he only closed it.

Steve needed something to help him think. He barely slept that night, so the diner across the street wasn’t so bad to clear his head. He sat in one of the booths and stared out the window, watching the cars pass by like it was some normal day for him.

In his mind was just the nightmares and that girl’s face.

The boy who cried wolf.

“Hey,” Someone spoke up, Steve turns to see Y/N, her large smile creeping up to her face. Steve seemed to grin at her, “Morning,” He says. Y/N had her coffee in hand, “I thought that was you. I was looking from across the diner,” She lied. Looking, he thought. How long has she been looking at him? 

Y/N hadn’t spot him across the diner, it was the scent of him that made her come over. Her wolf went feral once again but she gained control. “May I?” She asks, gesturing to the empty booth, Steve nods. “Go ahead.”

Y/N sits in front of him and grins, “You’re lucky to see me again. Such a huge coincidence,” She softly chuckles. Steve grins up at her with the half-lidded eyes. Tired but such gentle and genuine eyes.

She lowers her head and Steve lifts up his, “So you and James?” Y/N looks over to him and she furrows her brows. “Bucky?” Steve gestures to her, “You and him...?” He trailed off.

Y/N realizes what he means and softly chuckles, “No! Oh no, we’re just really close friends. I consider him a brother.” Steve nods, maybe that’s why Bucky seemed a bit defensive toward her.

Protective brother.

“I think he hates me,” Steve admits, Y/N peers up at him hurtful, “No,” She lies, trying to sound truthful. “He doesn’t hate you. He just... He’s just a grump. Mostly he’s tired. Working on bikes...” Y/N raises her cup to her lips. 

Steve grins at her and he slowly turns away, “Have you heard about werewolves roaming around your home?” He asked, noticing the way she pauses and lifts her head up, slightly choking.

“Werewolves? As in a man who shifts into a wolf? I mean some people can mistake bears as other things, I’ve seen wolves but not... werewolves,” She clears her throat.

Steve drops his head, “You know anyone who could have seen one?”

Y/N raises her head again, eyes narrowing at the slightest, “I honestly don’t know. I’ve seen videos and stuff but you know. College kids, crazy people who just beg for money. Like that Rogers guy.” Y/N grins and Steve felt his heart stop.

Y/N noticed and looked up to him, “Hey, you okay?” Steve lifts up his head and sees the worry in her eyes. He spots the flashes of the cold blue eyes reflect off her normal color eyes. 

He hears large growling in his ear again. His heart beating against his own chest. The flash of those blue eyes of a werewolf, he shook his head and glass shatters. Y/N and Steve turn to see the waitress on her knees, cleaning up the mess of the plastic plates. 

Steve placed his hands on the table and thought for a moment, “Sorry, I should go. I-” Y/N watches as he slides out of the booth and out towards the door. Y/N instantly stands up, “Wait, Steve.”

Steve pushes through the doors and he hears footsteps behind him. “Steve, wait!” He turns and looks at Y/N who runs up. “Hey, I’m sorry if I upset you for what I said.”

Steve tried to shake his head like it was no problem, “No, it’s fine. I just...” He pauses and sees the concern gaze coming from her. Does she not know who he was? 

Y/N’s lips part, “I also wanted to... make up an offer.”

Steve doesn’t speak, letting her continue for her offer. She pants, “Did you want to come over for dinner? My family and I were having lasagna tonight. And I thought you’d like to get to know my family better. I surely knew we had a rough start and I think Ada likes you very much.”

Steve looks at her up and down, a tough gaze before he nods once. “Okay. Is eight alright?” He asked.

Y/N softly grins, “Make it seven. I’ll pick you up.” Steve grins back at her and they hear someone call for her. Steve spots Bucky on his bike, waving at Y/N. Dark shades covering his eyes but Steve knew Bucky was trying to kill him with looks. “I should go,” She says.

Steve looks over to her and nods, letting her walk off to Bucky. Steve and Bucky had kept their stares once Y/N greeted him. She hops on his bike and Bucky gave Steve one more glance. Keeping his eyes on the man, Bucky revved his motorcycle and rides off with Y/N. Leaving Steve there on the sidewalk. The man puffed out a long sigh. This dinner was not gonna end well.

.

“You did what?” Roman spats, Y/N could hear his wolf growl in his throat as she turned away from him. “I think we had a rough start! Besides, this guy doesn’t even look like he knows anything,” Y/N says, throwing her arms out in a shrug.

“Oh, so you pity him?” Randall asks.

Y/N’s wolf growled at him and that only made him smirk. “Whether you mutts like it or not, you can eat upstairs.” Ada wasn’t even in the conversation. Tatum was the one laughing through all of it. Bucky had been in the corner with his arms crossed. Not at the moment to jump in because this was about Steve. Something was off with the wolf man and Bucky didn’t trust the man.

“You think Roman can handle a human? His big bad wolf comes out like Ada’s worst days-” Roman’s wolf snarls at the teenager and Tatum’s wolf lets out a scared whine. Ada rolls her eyes at the two, “Y/N, I think what you’re doing is not what we all want. It’s not following our rules.”

“Then having sex with one another is not breaking the rules? And I didn’t know Roman had something down there,” Y/N remarks, Roman growled and storms up to her. The two back up into a wall and Y/N gets caged in Roman’s body.

His scent singed her nostrils as his flared. Her wolf growled loudly and so did his, both sharing deadly glares. “Is Ada your new Omega? Huh?” Y/N pushes, Roman grabs her throat and Ada was quick enough to rip the two apart.

“Enough you two! You!” She points at Roman, “Keep your distance! I don’t want to deal with a fight right now! And you!” Ada shouts, pointing at Y/N. “You keep your mouth shut.” Silence fell once again and Ada looks over to the clock. 

It was almost 6.

She breathed out slowly, “We’ll allow this dinner. But if I hear another bitch comment from one of you two again, I will chain one of you outside. Do I make myself clear?” She asks.

Roman and Y/N glance at each other, both glaring for challenge with their eyes. Surely everything the whole group does is how off their growls, teeth, eyes and stance. Roman happened to be an Alpha. But not to Y/N. With a snap of Ada’s fingers, she points at the two, “Do I make myself clear?” 

Y/N and Roman turn away from each other and Roman walks off without another word. Ada sighs, “Good. Now. Randall put on a damn shirt on. Tatum, you as well. Bucky, can you set up the table?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and heads into the kitchen. Ada turns to Y/N and sees the look on her face, the dark haired woman walks over and gently rubs Y/N’s shoulders. “Hey, calm down. He’s not gonna mess with him. I won’t let that happen. Go or the food will get cold.”

Y/N glances at Ada and watches her walk off. Y/N takes the car keys and heads for the car. She drove down to the town and waited for Steve to leave his room. Y/N could hear the click of his door and saw Steve step out of his room. He gets into the passenger seat and grins. “Nice ride,” He says, Y/N grins.

“Not nicer than the motorbike,” She said.

Steve grins, “I have one in New York. We would’ve rode back.” Y/N chuckles softly, “You consider being the one to hold me by the waist?” Steve shakes his head with a small smile, “Could be the other way around. I know how to ride one.”

Y/N doesn’t take that as a flirting thing and she softly laughs, pulling out of the parking lot to her house.

Once they reached her house, Steve gets out and waits for Y/N to meet up with him. Y/N was the first to step up to the doors and enter in the large cabin home. Steve could smell the food from here and Y/N shouts out to the family. 

Y/N takes Steve into the dining room. The fireplace was lit and the dining lights were on. He heard large thuds, “Watch out!” Tate shouts, almost crashing into Steve’s shoulder as he flies into the room like a wild animal. Randall walks in afterwards, slightly giving Steve a glare up and down.

This family didn’t like him.

Y/N reassuringly gave him a pat on the back. “Let’s eat,” She said. Tatum and Randall sat on the one side, both starting shove each other. Ran gave the boy a glare and Tate returns with laughs. 

Ada comes over and puts wine on the table. “It’s nice to see you again, Steve.” The man looks up and softly grins. “Thanks. You too.”

“Wine or beer?” She asked.

Steve looks over to Y/N for an approval, he stammers, “Uh... beer?” He asked. Ada nods but then Y/N raises her fingers, “I’ll grab them.” Y/N gives Steve a small glance as she stands up from her seat and walks over to the fridge, finding the bottles of beer.

“I’ll take one!” Tate shouts, only to receive a punch from Randall, “Ow!” The boy grunts. Steve inspected the two who probably had no manners on how to act around guests. But he didn’t mind it.

Her family was probably foster kids.

Neither of them looked relatable. He should ask her about it but he didn’t want to push more into her life. Y/N sits down next to him and popped open the caps. The two boys settled down and Steve saw Bucky walk in at the corner of his eyes.

Steve took a glance and Bucky watched him as he walked to the other side of the table with Ran and Tate, taking a seat there. Steve seemed to swallow hard as Ada joins at the table.

“I hope you like lasagna and garlic bread. Unless you’re a vampire,” Ada jokes, Steve chuckles along with Y/N but his was cut off by the look from Bucky. He cleared his throat and reached for his beer. Distracting himself with the taste stinging his taste buds.

Roman was the last one to enter the dining room. It wasn’t audible for Steve but Y/N sensed his wolf low growled as he sat down across from Ada.

“Roman. You remember Steve,” Ada says, sounding to nice as she was. Roman doesn’t even respond as he shoots a dark stare toward Steve and Y/N cleared her throat.

Steve needed to start something common to keep the silence from being awkward. He spoke, “What do you guys do? Like outside the house?” He asked.

Ada looks up and looked over to the family if one of them were going to speak. No one did so she cleared her throat, “Randall here cuts trees. A lumberjack, you can say. For about 6 years and he can name every tree,” Ada grins.

Steve manages to smile and Randall glares in return. Ada looks over to Tatum, “Tate here, he was home-schooled. He’s nineteen but he doesn’t consider on getting a job.”

“Yeah. It’s time he moves out,” Randall mutters, raising his glass to his mouth. Tatum shoves him and they scowl at each other. Ada grins, “Bucky here, he just works in the garage. Fixing an old motorbike he found in the scrapyard.” Steve looks over to Bucky who picked at his food and raised it up to his mouth.

“And I’m just an at-home mother. Roman is the alpha around the house,” Ada adds, laughing as it was a joke. Steve took it as one when Y/N forced a smile on her lips and Roman kept his eyes on Steve throughout the whole dinner.

Y/N’s wolf growled every time Roman would glance at her. It was around 9 and Y/N thought to return Steve back to the motel. So, he said goodbye to the family before heading out to Y/N’s car. She jumped in and pulled onto the dark highway. 

The silence was awkward but the music was calming to them. Y/N seemed to get use to his scent. But her wolf thought otherwise. Y/N gently shook her head, “I’m sorry if my family... was odd. They never had someone come over in years.”

Steve turns, “How come?” He asked.

Y/N chuckles, “They just live so far out and they don’t talk to many people. We just have each other.” Steve nods and turns away to look at the road again. Y/N glances over to him, “Have you visited your mom?” She asked. Steve inhales softly and nodded, “I did.”

“Is she doing well?”

Steve grins softly, “Better than I ever seen her. She worries about me though. After my dad died, she thought I would struggle because him and I was going out more than ever. I joined the army and she gotten even more worried. Then I left when I found out she got cancer.”

Y/N nods softly and sighs, “I send her my regards. And to you.” Steve gazes over to her and grins sadly. Taking her regard nicely. “Thank you.”

The rest of the drive was calm and nice, Steve liked it. Y/N stopped at his room and Steve opens the door. “Thank you for dinner,” He says. Y/N swats her hand at him, “It was nothing. Besides... I’m open anytime to help.”

Steve smiles and closes her car door, walking towards his room. Once he did, Y/N looks up front and grips her hands on the wheel. Her wolf is going feral. Growling. For hunger. She barely ate at that dinner.

She craved it. His scent lingering on the passenger seat. Stealing a glance at the back of his head. She growled and ripped her keys out of the ignition. Seconds he got up to the door, Steve heard her door close and he got his motel room door open. With a turn, he felt hands grab him. Then a pair of lips crash onto his.

His body leans back but his head leaned into Y/N’s lips as she pulled him by his shirt. Steve’s hand reached for her waist, pulling the loops of her jeans as they back into his room and Y/N kicks the door close.

Steve shoves her, crashing into the TV. None of them seemed bothered by the crash as Steve tugs her shirt. He grabs her waist and rips her up onto the surface. She pulls his flannel off his shoulders and slipped her hands under his shirt.

He took that sign and ripped it off, going back to kiss her with need. His hand grabs her waist and she lets out a breathy moan.

The morning sun beams through the tangerine colored curtains. The fainted buzzing noise on the ground inside the unbuttoned dark jeans. Steve opens his eyes to the buzzing sound as he turns on his back and leans a bit off the bed to reach for his jeans.

Taking his phone in hand, his phone notified him a missed call. 

Missed call from Natasha

Steve placed his phone on the nightstand that had no sign of the lamp anymore. He looks at the lamp on the ground and slowly sat up from the bed. Viewed the whole room that looked like animals had invaded the space. The TV was on the ground, his cigarette packet and personal things are sprawled all over the ground.

He sees black bra on the edge of the bed and turns to see Y/N’s bare back. He rubs his face and yawns softly, taking in the scene around him. 

He’d have to ask for a maid to clean it up. Maybe a new room. Y/N was good friend’s with Erik, perhaps he’ll understand. Steve didn’t want to get up. Instead, he looked to his right and reaches over with his left hand to rub his finger down her spine. Y/N doesn’t stir, hair falling over his cheeks while he leaned in to kiss behind her ear. Then her jaw. Her jaw to her shoulder. Y/N stirs this time, moaning softly. 

His hand trails down her body as she turned onto her back to look up to him. Steve continued to pepper her with kisses before he pulled away to look at her tired eyes. Her neck covered in red bruises and bites. Hair disheveled from being pulled. Somewhere around 3 rounds, he knew she could probably go for hours. 

Some bruises have already healed, and he remembered them being dark as the night sky. Her upper half was not covered with the sheets, but he didn’t look down to enjoy those curves. Instead, he just looked into her eyes. She smiles, “What?” She laughs softly.

Steve looks up at her hair then down to her eyes again, “Nothing. Just...” He didn’t have the words as he reached up to her right cheek with his left hand. She closes her eyes to the warmth from his hand.

Her skin was warm as well. It always was. 

His thumb brushes over her cheek as she hums, “What time is it?” She asked. Steve finally looks down her chest, his hand going to her ribs now just under her breast. “It’s 9 in the morning.”

Y/N reaches up to her face, rubbing the side of it as she yawns. She turns onto her side to face him as he smiles at her. He thought about his stomach growling, wanting to grab some breakfast.

“You wanna grab breakfast?” He asked, Y/N looks down at his chest, running her hand down the gathered chest hair and a small happy trail. She hums, “We can go after a shower.”

Steve grins and places a kiss on her lips. 

She placed another on his and he reaches for her cheek, keeping her there and she sits up on top of his lap, kissing him. Steve’s palm lays flat on her back and the other hooks under her knee before he lifts her up when he stands, taking her into the bathroom.

.

Y/N sat in the booth with Steve in the diner. Y/N thanked the waiter when he placed down their coffees on their table. Y/N reaches for the cream and poured in the cup. Steve noticed she had her tank top and one of his flannels. Steve wore his blue tee and a grey bomber jacket. 

Steve grins.

“What?” Y/N peers up at him, grabbing the sugar and ripping it open with her teeth. That gave him the thought when she popped open button of his jeans with her teeth. 

“Nothing. Just...” He trails off, Y/N grins up at him with her her tilted down focused on her coffee. “You keep looking like that, you might get stuck with that look,” She says, Steve smiles at her and finally reaches for his coffee.

This wasn’t his usual thing. Sure, Steve brought women to his apartment, but he didn’t keep them for long. He wasn’t sure if he was keeping her or stuck with her. She just kept running into him. He didn’t believe in those things where you meet the one and you can’t stop running into places at the same time.

His mom had that with his father.

But he didn’t believe it. He just might, though. “So,” Y/N spoke up, shuffling in her seat, “I believe I haven’t had a full conversation from you. So, this will be a social experiment.” Y/N leans and squints at him, “Where were you born?”

“I was born in Brooklyn, New York, 1981,” He says, “You?”

Y/N leans back, “I don’t remember. My family moved a lot.” 

Steve picks up his coffee, “Well, you’re not getting far with this social experiment.” Y/N tilts her head, “I’m serious. My family never really spoken about where we were living. But I was also born in 1981,” She replied.

Steve thought where she could’ve been born in. California. Maybe New Jersey. Vermont. She looks like she’s somewhere around Europe. Y/N doesn’t really have an accent to find out where she was from.

“Anyway, what’s your job?” She asked.

Steve sighs, leaning on his arms, his head thinking on how to word it. “It’s a company for research and tech in New York. You probably know the playboy, Tony Stark.”

Y/N nods, “Yeah. Heard some nasty things from others but go ahead. What do you research?” She asked.

Steve smacks his lips together, “Let’s see, anything that could be endangered or dangerous to the world. Our recent mission was escorting refugees back to their homes. We did solve a few world problems. But, we’re really just a couple of people who research and take small missions. I actually have to be somewhere in two days.”

Y/N pulls her hands to her face, lacing them together as she looked out the window. “You plan on returning?” She asked, Steve looks over and sees that her mood seemed to change.

But he couldn’t read it enough to know what she was thinking. Before he could answer, the waiter gives them their plates. Then they ate. It seem that the question was abandoned in thought as they laughed and talked more about other things.

Steve found out that she and her family had been all around the world. She knew a lot of languages, too. Y/N’s family was also part Native and he just couldn’t help but just think about her eyes.

Y/N grins and sees his face, “You seem content,” She says, stopping her conversation about her skiing trip. Steve shakes his head slowly. “What?” Y/N asked.

Steve saw it again. “Your eyes...” Y/N reaches up to her cheek and leans forward, “What about them?” She sounded self-conscious about them. “They just... They shine a bright blue sometimes,” He says.

Y/N reaches up to her eyes and nervously chuckles, “It’s a uh-...some disorder, that I have. I guess my natural color goes to a brighter color,” She stammers, “It’s weird honestly-” 

“No,” Steve cuts her off, “It’s beautiful.” Y/N lifts her head up to him and softly smiles. He smiled back and reaches over the table for her hand. Taking it in his. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket so he reaches into his jeans and looks at his phone.

Incoming call. . . Natasha

Steve’s eyes narrow, “Sorry, I need to take this.” Y/N lets him go as he slides out of the booth and out the door. 

“Hello?”

“Steve, it’s been 5 days. Not to be pushy and mean but what’s your mother got to do with these five days? We’re starting to pack for this mission and you’re still not here. If you’re there for those things I-”

“Nice to hear you to. But look, Nat, my mother is more sick than you know,” Steve deluded, looking around the town to see people walk down the sidewalks. Car passing by.

“I don’t believe a word what Cap is saying, you know how bad a liar he is,” Steve hears Tony on the phone. Nat groans, “Tony, get off the damn phone!” Steve shakes his head at the man before Natasha spoke again. 

“Come home, you’ll only make this worse. They’ll come for you. For all of us. Please.” She pleads.

“You saying you’ll arrest me?” He inquired. Nat scoffed, “No. Did you hear arrest come out of my mouth, no- What I’m saying is, they’re gonna come looking for you ‘cause they know what you’re doing.” Steve looked around to see if anyone was watching him. If Natasha had been stalking him, she would’ve.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Nat. What I’m doing is a family emergency,” He says, “I’ll be there in two days. You’ll be boarding up the stuff, I promise I’ll be there.”

“Don’t make us come there ourselves. I know you, Steve. I read everything on your desk at the apartment. This is gonna get you arrested. Maybe they’ll put you in a hospital for Christ’s sake! People will kill you, that’s how Joseph died.”

Steve stops at that and instantly Natasha regrets it, letting out a sigh, “I’m sorry, Steve. Just... please, come back. I don’t want you getting hurt in all this folktales.“ Who knew how much his team actually cared for his health. Natasha had always came to his aid. PTSD wasn’t no joke and she always was there when he needed it. Which is why he had her on speed dial for these things. She cared. But she didn’t believe him on this one.

“I should be the one to bring these things down,” Steve says.

“Why?” 

“Because I’m the one least likely to die trying.”

.

Natasha hears him hang up and she pulled her phone away, “Shit.” Sam and the rest of the team stood out in front of her along with two agents in dark suits. “Did he tell you to stay out of it?” Sam asked.

Natasha ignores Sam and looks over to Phil Coulson who nods, “Thank you, Ms. Romanoff. We’ll be sure to bring in Rogers in time for your flight to Australia.” Nat watches as she sees him walk away with a familiar face when she worked in their division.

Her brown hair bounced on her shoulders as Phil takes her out of the building. “I’m sending you and Agent 13 to Oregon. I gotten the information on his mother, we call her, we might just find him at the right time and right spot. Keep your distance. Watch him. He’s gonna get further than anyone else.”

“I might need assistance on the trucks. We’re not sure what we’re handling at this moment,” She says, accent thick and determined. Phil walks over to the car and nods, “Will do. I’m counting on you, Miss Carter. Bring him and those things in.”

“I know in my mind, he’s not in the right place. I know him better than anyone else. How do you want this to be handled?” She asked, Phil opens his car door and glanced over the car roof and smiled.

“You catch them. Don’t play nice. If he resists the action, I would start losing deep feelings for him and don’t play nice with him either. Give them hell, Margaret.”

The woman watched Phil leave the lot with his car and she stood there, the long nervous stare. Her fingers rubbing against each other nervously before she jumps into her car and starts it.

Posting edits a friend made for the series! 

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[sedehaven]

Saving Ophelia Grace’s Toe

Y’all seem to like my stories about being a witch in the Bible Belt, so here’s another one. This is a coming of age story about a young witch (me), a bunch of adults of various degrees of uselessness, and Ophelia Grace’s rotten toe.

This is not a happy story.

Names changed when necessary.

CW: Body squick, graphic injury, incompetent nurse, malevolent nurse, poisoning, bureaucratic nightmares, dark DARK shit ahead

So, in spite of the crushing poverty that I grew up in, I was given the opportunity to attend a very prestigious boarding school for Juniors and Seniors in Klan Kountry, LA. It’s a public school, so it takes kids from all over the state.

My school was run by a dude named Brother Dave.

Brother Dave was so awful that one of our senior pranks (I DID NOT DO THIS) involved a password-protected screensaver on every communal computer in the school (including, I think, Brother Dave’s office computer) of a bouncing, 3-D image of this:

Dude was NOT well-loved. It is important to know that he and I did not get along. When I was still a prospective student, he told us that our mascot was the mighty Eagle, because Eagles Flock Together.

Y’all. Someone watched himself too much Mighty Ducks.

I replied, loud enough for the whole auditorium to hear, “That’s not true, sir. Eaglettes push their smaller and weaker siblings out of the nest as soon as they can.”

He looked to the staff for support, red-faced and embarrassed by this ninety-pound child who stole his thunder.

The biology teacher (who left for greener pastures after my first year--rumored to have been forced out for being too fabulously dykey for the new administration) looked at him and stated, in her very particular and crisp fashion, “Well, she’s right.”

Safe to say, he hated me from the start. So, if you read this and you wonder, “Why didn’t this silly kid just go to the grown-up?” That’s why. He was our grown-up.

Brother Dave started at the school the year before I did. He was brought in by a local Senator, because said local Senator Fucked Up Colossally.

Senator Fuckup was running against Mr. Sketchy Businessman. Mr. Sketchy Businessman was backed by the Ku Klux Klan (a big deal in parts of the world, folks. My school was in David Duke country.)

Senator Fuckup had a fancy name--well-respected all around the state. Like, several statues of one of his relations decorate the state capital. Big name.

Problem is, Senator Fuckup is half-Black.

In Klan Kountry.

Y’all.

So he’s already at a disadvantage. As it turns out, it takes a village to start a magnet school. Senator Fuckup was one of the founding board members, and promised all kinds of benefits if they put the school in HIS district.

Their other offer was in my own hometown, the Hub City, where several of our major state highways cross with two Interstates.A place with art and history and culture. A place with one of the largest outdoor music festivals in the state--a multicultural, international music festival! With art walks and museums and Mardi Gras parades! With a three-story library, a library for French language and culture, and the second-largest university in Louisiana!

Senator Fuckup PROMISED that the school wouldn’t want for anything if they went to Klan Kountry.

So they did.

It was no great secret that this school was Senator Fuckup’s baby. At the time that I attended, the school was number one in the nation. Something to be proud of.

Except.

Except.

Except that in order to keep various forms of funding, the school was required to take in more melanin-blessed individuals than the locals liked.

Enter Mr. Sketchy Businessman, who ran a series of TV and radio ads claiming that our STATE funded school was stealing money from the local school district.

That’s right. He claimed that our school took money away from the poor Whites of Klan Kountry and gave to the diverse and metropolitan school for the gifted.

Senator Fuckup tried to deflect and dismiss, BUT did NOT rebut those claims. He didn’t believe that the school’s funding was THAT MUCH of an issue.

Any reasonable person would understand that the school was funded from the State taxes. Right?

As it turns out, Klan Kountry is not filled with reasonable people.

Senator Fuckup is a member of a particular subgroup in Klan Kounrty--a not-insignificant population of Catholic Creoles. So, after he wins his election--barely--he realizes that Something Must Be Done to help the image of the school that everybody knew as HIS baby.

Enter his old friend, Brother Dave. Brother Dave, who nearly bankrupted his previous school. His brother-in-law was a contractor who got a few really juicy contracts through him.

Protip: Nepotism only works if the person being nepotized is competent.

Spoiler: Brother Dave’s brother-in-law built schools about as well as Brother Dave ran them.

Brother Dave’s old school is attached to an order of monks who build cheap and simple caskets for people who are into that kind of thing.

They bake bread for the poor. These are good people.

Y’all, these people made it KNOWN--statewide--that they had a casket ready for ol’ Dave if he ever stepped foot in their town again.

Still, Senator Fuckup decided that THIS was the man who would lead my school into a glorious future.

Brother Dave took an aggressive stance on admissions. He wanted kids who didn’t have a lot of drama, and kids who looked (WHITE) good on the recruiting materials. He pulled hard from the local Catholic (Segregation) Academies.

Y’all.

Our Black kids were nearly White-passing mixed-race kids, one kid who was ACTUALLY from Africa, a couple of kids from Catholic schools, and one dark-skinned Baptist girl who is bombshell model-gorgeous. (For those glossy brochures.)

So as many White Catholic kids as possible.

Y’all.

I’ve competed with private school fuckwits in academic contests my whole life, up to that point. If it was something that required preparation (science fair, for example), they wiped the floor with us.

Because daddy the petroleum engineer did the project for them.

If it was a you-know-it-or-you-don’t thing (quiz bowl, for example), they lost so brutally that I might have felt bad for them. You know, if they had souls. Which they did not.

So Brother Dave populated our school with what he thought were “good kids”. White, Catholic kids.

Spoiler: My class started with 250 students. We graduated less than half of that, even after he backfilled our class with new kids between junior and senior year. The class after mine was worse.

Why is that?

White Catholic kids at segregation academies in the late 90′s basically did busy-work worksheet stuff all day. They were not ready for 10 page papers and 5 page lab reports and 100+ pages of reading and 20-50 math problems and projects, projects, projects!

Also, if all you do is worksheets and sit-down-and-shut-up, there has to be a certain...chemical element...to cope.

So, yeah. Drugs. So much drugs. And booze.

Brother Dave also hired Nurse Bitchy Fuckface. She was actually his first hire.

Nurse Bitchy was a walking disaster.

I was sixteen when I first met her, and because she didn’t smell like street drugs (I KNOW WHAT THAT SHIT IS), I missed a lot of signs.

Looking back, I think that she might have been a Prozac-and-wine kind of person. But, as the only drugs that I was familiar with came from street pharmacists, I thought she was just evil.

Hateful to the queers, pagans, Goths, and all assorted weirdos.

You know, all the kids who could actually handle the schoolwork and the pressure. *eyeroll*

I’m allergic to Sudafed. Weird, huh?

A senior at my school told me to be careful with Nurse Bitchy. She has a sensitivity to acetaminophen (Tylenol) and couldn’t have it. Nurse Bitchy had given it to her a couple of times.

It was on my senior’s medical chart. If you’re keeping score, that’s felony attempted murder.

Nurse Bitchy gave me Sudafed seventeen times (that I remember) while I was at that school. She very nearly killed me doing it. Some times I knew, and some times I did not.

“But why did you take it, if you knew?”

Well, you innocent dove, if I refused to take the medicine that the Nurse gave me, then I got written up. Enough write-ups and I got kicked out.

My home school in the Hub City? Eh...as bad as Klan Kountry was, I didn’t have someone assaulting me daily. I didn’t have a gang of girls who got away with attempting to rape me with a broom handle. I didn’t have a very big kid who was given liberties with me (BY THE STAFF) because he was special ed.

Or, as my guidance counselor liked to say (after my father was murdered and I was flunking chemistry--not because of dad’s death, but because the chemistry teacher put all the girls and Black boys in the back of the class--which had NO air conditioning on hundred-degree days--after Brother Dave’s brother-in-law “fixed” it that summer), “Stephanie, you know that you’re the poorest student here. Do you really want to go back to THAT?”

No. I did not.

Under pain of going home to poverty, rape, assault, and maybe death, I took her poison. She watched me do it. And she smiled.

I only went to Nurse Bitchy when I was forced to. This happened far more often my Junior year. The teachers would send me because I was sick (I come from a smoker’s home, and I’m an asthmatic who is allergic to tobacco. My family never quit, so I’d end up with smoker’s pneumonia most times that I went home. Thanks for the lung scars, fam.)

Eventually, when I was a Senior, my computer science teacher realized that I was unresponsive with a fever in her class. She was new that year, and didn’t know any better. So she woke me up and sent me along. Nurse Bitchy gave me the usual and sent me back to class.

Very few humans retain the ability to projectile vomit after age seven. Did you know that?

Lucky me, I did. I still can.

I hurled all over my keyboard. I hurled and hurled. My classmates screamed and ran.

My computer science teacher, an ice-cold woman of Indian descent with a very posh English accent, unplugged the vomit-soaked, ruined keyboard. She took it and me to the nurse.

She slammed the keyboard down on her desk and screamed at her to NEVER send a sick child to her class again.

Nurse Bitchy was (shocking, I know) a racist. She feared the angry Indian lady.

My computer science teacher, I believe, spread the word about Nurse Bitchy’s ineffectiveness. Teachers stopped sending students to her.

That left a vacuum. Nobody was being forced to get medical help. But medical help was still needed.

Before going to school in Klan Kountry, I was a veterinary technician. I worked under-the-table from too young. Illegal-child-labor-too-young.

But, I knew my stuff. I had a stocked medicine cabinet and a dissection kit.

I started doing everything up to and including prison surgery in my dorm room.

I could handle most anything. Which was better than worrying that the nurse was going to poison one of my friends into the ground.

I didn’t ask for money or food or anything (food was a commodity at that school because our cafeteria was infested). I worked for the goodwill of my classmates, which is the shiniest coin in the realm.

I’d gotten into witchcraft earlier that year. People trusted the witch over the nurse. That’s where my school was.

I only had one case that I really couldn’t treat.

Y’all.

It was traditional in the girls’ dorms that unless you were asleep or studying, you kept your door open. Mine was open that night. I was writing Sailor Moon fanfiction, procrastinating on one project or another. I don’t remember, it was twenty-two years ago.

Ophelia Grace (not her real name) came to my door in Doc Martens, favoring a foot. Her roommate or a suitemate or maybe another theatre kid was holding her up as she hobbled into my room.

I hadn’t heard that she’d been hurt, but apparently she had been. She was feverish and weak. Her face was bright red. She was babbling.

“I’m sorry,” she said over and over again. She apologized for coming late. She apologized for coming at all. She was shaking.

I sat her and her friend on my roommate’s bed (we’d bunked them, and I had the top bunk). My roommate was out, in the art lab working on a particularly tricky painting. Probably for the best. He was squeamish (my ex-roommate is a transman, so I’m using his preferred pronouns.)

I grabbed a large bowl and a mug, filled both with water (salted the bowl of water), and went down the hall to the microwave.

The water in Klan Kountry was filthy. It smelled bad and tasted worse. Remember Mr. Sketchy Businessman? He wanted to relax EPA regulations for himself and his sketchy business friends.

They were actively dumping into the city reservoir. But Mr. Sketchy Businessman promised to KKKeep KKKlan KKKountry Lily, so he got 49% of the votes.

Racist douche.

I boiled the water in the microwave--first the mug, then the bowl. It was a walk I’d make several times that evening.

Ophelia had a fever, holding steady at “fucking HOT” by the estimate of her friend. My thermometer pegged it at 102. Not good.

I put a teabag and two whole cloves in the cup and let it steep while I took her temperature. I asked her what happened. I don’t remember the specifics of the injury, but I believe that something got dropped on her toe. I think it happened in the theatre.

Ophelia thought she could walk it off. I remember that.

She kept apologizing. I honeyed the tea and shoved it in her hands. The tea helped. She was shivering--hard--from the wracking chills of her fever.

I remember how her febrile shivers made the bunk beds shake.

I remember thinking that I was in over my head.

I remember grabbing my oldest towels, and closing my door.

I remember praying.

And then I took her boot off.

Y’all.

I’ve smelled rot. Some people think that all rot smells the same.

It does not.

Corpse stink has its own bouquet. Blood rot has a distinct stench. Necrotic yeast infections almost smell good--like yeast rolls and something meatier.

I’d smelled Ophelia’s particular rot before.

I was fourteen. A momma dog was brought in, heavily pregnant. She’d been delivering, and the third pup got stuck. There were 11 left. The stuck pup was dead, but we managed to save 4 behind him, plus the first 2, born healthy.

The uterus had begun to rot inside, and several of the pups had been dead for some time.

The spaying that happened after the pups were removed was green and black, with the consistency of pudding. We pulled as much out as we could, but the rest had to be rinsed out.

Thankfully, I’ve smelled that smell very few times after. It smells pungent and strong. Like garlic. Like a cream of garlic stew.

I thought I’d gotten a whiff of THAT smell when Ophelia walked in, and again when she sat down. Pulling her boot off was like the first deep cut into momma dog. Garlic and blood.

The smell of something rotting in someone still alive.

She had on two socks. I peeled off the first one. There was a stain at the toe. The second sock was worse. The smell hung around.

Our windows were screwed shut. I couldn’t do anything about the smell.

Ophelia cried into her tea. She was still apologizing.

The toe was purple and black. There was a lot of yellow pus under the nail, which was leaking out on either side. Red streaks ran up her instep, tracing her veins.

The toe was swollen and needed a lance.

I had no idea how she climbed the stairs to get to me. (I was on the third floor, and she lived below. We had no elevator.)

She started to get loud (peeling those socks off HURT), so I asked her a question. I asked about her history paper. The ten-page history paper was a rite-of-passage at the school, and I knew it was coming due for her. I told her to tell me about her topic and her sources.

She did.

Thank the Lord and Lady.

I got my dissection kit and rubbing alcohol. I made things as sterile as I could.

I told her that it would probably hurt, but that I would work quickly.

Her friend left after the first cut. She didn’t stay gone long, but I heard her vomit in our suite’s toilet.

Ophelia kept talking about her paper. I led her around on that topic, asking questions and asking for clarification. Asking about the books she’d read, and offering a few that I was familiar with on the subject.

This is why doctors and dentists know so many things about so many subjects. Talking keeps the patient calm.

Meanwhile, pus and blood dripped from the slits that I made in her flesh, onto a towel that bore the stains until I donated it to the animal shelter, years later.

I soaked her toe in the bowl of water. The salt burned, but she couldn’t scream.

There was an adult who was supposed to be watching us. If she was alerted to my low-tech medical unit, she would have stopped me and sent Ophelia to the murder nurse.

I filled another bowl, salted it, and microwaved it.

Ophelia’s friend rejoined us, and watched as I squeezed the rest of the pus out of her. Her toenail slipped off in the third bowl. The toenail was cracked. Ophelia kept it.

I wonder if she still has it?

Triple antibiotic ointment and a sterile dressing later, I told her to tell the nurse that she needed a doctor. Nurse Bitchy couldn’t keep us from a doctor if we asked for one. She said that she would.

I gave her a few oral anti-inflammatory pills and some Benadryl to get a good night’s sleep.

She left, with her boot in her hand and a soft smile on her lips. I cleaned my tools, my bowls, the floor where her foot was, and had to do a load of laundry because that one rag smelled so awful.

My roommate came back in time for headcount, and asked if I’d made ramen. Said it smelled pretty good in there.

It did. Rot can do that.

It was hard to sleep that night. I cried quietly until sleep took me.

Ophelia recovered. She became a witch some time later. In college, I think. We’re still friends, in a Facebook kind of way.

Brother Dave is still alive. After working for my school, he ended up helping the Church cover up three decades of sex abuse at a diocese school. Not sure what he’s up to, but probably nothing good. He’s a garbage human.

Nurse Bitchy just retired. She lasted twenty years at that school. God knows how.

Senator Fuckup died in a car crash and the school is being renamed after him. So are the new dorms that are being built.

Klan Kountry cleaned up their water after I left. That’s really good news.

The school continues. Apparently, it got better with Brother Dave’s leavetaking. I hope that’s true.

And me?

I’m still a witch. I’m still here.

And I can still smell that rotten toe on the edge of nightmares half-remembered.

~*~

I don’t want my diploma revoked or to be sued, so disclaimer time.

This is fiction. Any resemblance to people living or dead is coincidental.

#witchcraft #prose #proseriot #kitchen witch #healing #writing #amwriting #autobiography #true story

[shadowofthelamp]

Needle and Thread

Oh yeah, I didn’t post this here. So, for my LGBT lit summer class one of the options for our project was a short story, so I wrote a human au Tulix thing. The teacher said she liked the ‘creative names’, pffft.)

Wordcount: 4000

Warnings: Mentions of dead animals/dissection

It started with a dead squirrel, a swiss army knife, and a bag of mints.

Tulip Bennett had only just begun going to East Side Middle School since her old foster home had belonged to the district across town. When she was adopted, she got a new house and a new dad, but also a new school, new people to deal with- and folded under that, new school weirdos.

“Look, I don’t know if anyone’s told you yet.” It had been conferred on her in harsh whispers- the harshest that could come from a fellow sixth-grader, one named Samantha in hot pink and pigtails. “Stay away from Nebula, the girl with the overalls.”

“Nebula? That’s a cool name.”

“Trust me, the girl it comes with isn’t. Her family is weird- the mom always walks around in a lab coat that’s got something red on the bottom half, and the dad killed somebody once!”

“Killed somebody?”

“That’s what Dave says!” And her tone left no argument- what Dave said must be law, to the twelve-year-olds that had been dwelling in these halls years before she had. “Just keep away if you don’t wanna get hurt.” 

Tulip had nodded and gone about the next week or so getting only glances of the girl at lunch where she usually had her thick glasses buried in a thick book. From a distance, she just kind of seemed… like a nerd. Which wasn’t intimidating. She kind of wore black a lot, sure, but that wasn’t much. Tulip didn’t see why everyone seemed so scared of her. If there was one thing she was good at, though, it was floating around to plug herself into different groups. Her pastel dress, round shape, fluffy red hair, and quiet demeanor were camouflage, allowing her to slip in and ask questions in a soft way that usually got answered.

“Why don’t people like her?” 

“She brought a bunch of live beetles into class last year. One got on my arm and she started yelling at me when I pushed it off. Like it mattered if I squashed a bug.”

“Have you seen those gloves she wears? They’ve got blood on them!”

“Look, she’s tearing something open right now!” At that, Tulip turned, squinting. Sure enough, there was a blueish huddle on the corner of the playground. Her hair was bundled up in a bun that resembled a haystack atop her head. 

She kind of looked like Alex had at the house before last, the boy who used to eat worms, and he was actually nice when she got to know him, so Tulip brushed her skirt and made a decision. 

“I’m going to talk to her.”

“Didn’t you hear me?”

“Mhm, but I’m gonna say hi. If she’s mean, I’ll leave.” It seemed like a fine plan to her, even as the other girls called out in protest. 

“She’s just going to stab you!”

“You don’t know what you’re doing!”

Tulip tuned them all out, crossing the blacktop like it was an ancient battleground from the games Eliza had played at the table in the Grant house. Tulip had liked the little blue fairy figure and took a moment to pretend now, borrowing her bravery. After all, she’d been at the school a week already and had managed only to float around on the outskirts of tightly-knit friend groups, a lone tumbleweed in this middle-school desert. If she was a floater, Nebula was in another galaxy, and that just wouldn’t do. If she was mean, then Tulip could always just leave her be. She didn’t like judging books by their covers, especially when those covers had gooey-sweet chocolatey insides the way some of her foster siblings had.

Besides, she was skinny enough to look like she’d snap like a twig, so she couldn’t be that bad compared to Tulip’s few self-defense classes at the mall. She’d already dug her small ziplock baggies of mints out by the time she reached Nebula and put on a winning smile. “Hi there.”

“Huh?” Nebula turned, eyes huge and buggy under her glasses with a color that kind of looked like the glow-in-the-dark star stickers Tulip’s dad had put up on her ceiling. The glasses themselves were… what were they called, cat eyes? They kind of gave her the look of an inquisitive alien. Now that she was up this close, Tulip could see a little piece of purple plastic settled inside her left ear. She raised an eyebrow. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Tulip. I’m new here.”

Nebula squinted. “Hi, Tulip. I like your name.”

She beamed. “Thank you! Do you like flowers?”

“Uh-huh. I’ve got a big garden back home, and I bury the bodies in it.”

Tulip’s beaming dropped a few watts, and her smile fell for a moment before she forced it wider again. “The… bodies?”

Nebula scooted over, revealing- oh, oh, that was gross. She had a knife in one plastic-gloved hand, the blade splattered with deep red, and the fingers of her other gloved hand were deep in the guts of a gnat-swarmed dead squirrel. “Like these. They’re all over once you know where to look, and it helps the soil grow stuff better.” She smiled, a surprisingly genuine one. “That’s what Papa says, and I’ve seen it works.”

“You… kill squirrels for-“

“Psh, I don’t kill them.” Nebula waved the knife. “I find them. Usually, some other animal killed ‘em.” She pointed at the squirrel’s skull with the point of the knife. “This one? Probably a cat, it has teeth marks in the crushed skull. Last week someone got a rabbit with a BB gun but just left it to die.” She clicked her tongue. “I don’t know why they let them suffer like that.”

“You like dead animals… to feed your plants?” Tulip asked, still not willing to get any closer. 

Nebula nodded. “Uh-huh. I mean, I like knowing how stuff works in general but- you ever seen the Lion King? Circle of life, big loud musical number?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s like that.” She lifted the squirrel up. “The squirrel eats the plants, then the plants eat the squirrel.”

That… made a sort of sense, if she thought about it. “Everybody seems scared of you.”

“Everybody seems like a wuss,” Nebula said with a shrug. “Who needs them?” She grinned again. “I like you, though. You haven’t run away yet.”

“Yet?”

“Most people do. I’m used to it.” 

Tulip took a deep breath and sat down next to her, holding out her bag of mints. “Well, that’s no way to go through life.”

Her smile dropped a little. “Huh?”

“Tell me about your plants.”

“You- want to listen to me?” Her voice cracked slightly, and Tulip could hear something pained behind it, a kicked kitten that had grown claws. She’d heard it before in kids who were about to age out, who were used to being pushed aside. 

“I do.”

Nebula lit up like a supernova and snatched the bag, stripping off her glove to grab a mint. 

__________

It had come easier, after that. Nebula talked fast and thought even faster, with a laugh that tickled Tulip up her spine and back down again. It didn’t sound like bells or a piano or any of the other pretty ways she’d heard laughs described, it was like a needle. Quick, sharp, and liable to puncture passerby but help repair a bad day if she only threaded it first. 

Over the days, she got to talking about her parents. They weren’t crazy, her mom was a butcher and her dad did experiments on animals for medicine. Tulip didn’t care much for that, but it was a far cry from murderers. Tulip’s dad was just an accountant.

“Hey, did I ever tell you what I did to Andrew?” She adjusted her glasses, shoving them up the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were so big behind them, like a galaxy all their own. 

“No, you haven’t.” Tulip sipped at her milk as she watched a beetle crawl up Nebula’s braid. She’d probably let it go come 3:15, but for now, Nebula just let it scurry up and burrow down in her hair like it belonged there. 

“Oh, man, I should have. So, he was making fun of my parents, right? Saying they’re ‘mad scientists’ and ‘I’m a freak’ and ‘where’s your witch hat’ and all that. Not very creative stuff. Well, I’ve got a bunch of beetle shells that I use for art at home, so I dunked one in glow-in-the-dark paint and stuffed it in his locker, with a note that said ‘with hate, from Nebula’.” She snickered. “He still thinks I’m a witch, and that was in third grade.”

“And you didn’t hurt him, right?”

Nebula waved a careless hand. “Pssh, of course not. It’s a lot more effective to creep people out over actually hurting them.”

Tulip chewed on her ham sandwich thoughtfully, hearing the lettuce crunch between her teeth. “Is there a… a reason you want to creep people out?”

“If everyone thinks I’m a freak, more time to do what I want, right?” She picked at her jello, watching it wobble and shake on the tray. “I don’t get a choice in how people see me, so I might as well give them what they want. It’s fun being the weirdo, sometimes.”

Tulip just blinked at that. “But why?”

“Why not?” Nebula countered. “You want to spend your life chasing after people who don’t really care about you?” She lifted her fork, shoving the gelatin into her mouth before shifting it over to her cheek, pointing the tines at Tulip. “I’ve seen how you float around like a ghost. You’re checked out of your own life because you’re so afraid someone won’t like you that you don’t get close enough to anyone that might.” She swallowed the dessert in her cheek, letting it settle as she stared.

“Isn’t it lonely, refusing to ever bend a little?” Tulip countered after a moment’s thought. Nebula gnawed on the inside of her mouth before sighing.

“Agree to disagree, Tutu. Agree to disagree.”

Sixth grade passed in a blur, with Nebula tugging her away during breaks to show her whatever new thing she was invested in that day. She slowly dialed back on showing off the dead animals when Tulip admitted they made her queasy and started talking about her plants, or her insects while they were still alive. She was the only person that Tulip had ever seen let a wasp crawl over the back of her hand without getting stung. 

That summer, they stomped around the bog behind the gas station, peat soaking their ankles as they captured frogs and let them go again after taking pictures. One of the girls from her scout troop invited her to a dance where they might see boys, but it just didn’t sound appealing to Tulip when she could swing Nebula around to creaky old songs from her dad’s record player, with her newly-made dresses spiraling around her knees. In July, Tulip began to sew in earnest- she’d liked piecing together odd arrangements of clothes from the thrift store before, but… 

‘Why are you wearing a Halloween costume?’

‘Spirit week with ‘ugly clothes day’ was last week, Bennett.’

It was easier to just go with simple dresses from the store. 

When Nebula had gotten a look at her closet, she’d immediately dug out the frankensteined skirts and haphazardly sewn tops and laughed. Tulip had been about to slam the door shut when she held one up.

“These are great! Why don’t you ever wear them?”

“Huh?”

She spun on her butt to hold the shirt up, owl-eyes squinting to superimpose it over Tulip’s body. “Not that I don’t like your pastels, they fit you, but these are so much more fun. Did you make them?”

“Well-”

“If they’re from some auntie that you feel like you can’t throw away, that’s fine. I just think they’re neat.”

“I thought you didn’t like girl’s clothes.”

“I don’t. That doesn’t mean I can’t tell what would look good on you.” Her cheeks darkened for a moment, and she shoved the shirt into Tulip’s hands. “Come on, I want to see you in it.”

“Neb…”

“You can’t just hide from me that you’re good at making stuff like this, I’m your best friend. It’s against the law,” Nebula declared.

“Like you care about the ‘law’,” Tulip snorted, but allowed herself to be pushed into the closet. It was easy enough to slide her shirt over her head, but… she fussed with the buttons on the old shirt. This was a bad idea. She tried to do it up, but it didn’t fit- her soft body oozed from the bottom, having gained some weight since she’d created the shirt years ago. She pulled it open again, looking around in the light from the slats. Freckles dotted her belly, and she felt almost like a puppet inhabiting her own milky skin. Her fingers fussed with the handmade shell necklace that rested just above her sternum before she pulled the shirt back off, grabbing the one she’d been wearing before and a vest she’d made with stretchier material. It was still tight, but not annoyingly so, and she knocked for Nebula to open the door.

When she did, the other girl grinned. “See? Told you.” A gloved thumb pointed lazily to the wall-mounted mirror, and Tulip twirled. It hugged her form, but in a way that felt… nice. She must have made it big- maybe for an older sister at the last house.

Nebula jokingly blew a kiss. “You’ll be the belle of the middle-school ball.”

Tulip bumped her with her hip, but her cheeks dotted pink.

After that, often when they met after school, Tulip would sew while Nebula talked, the machine doing the chattering for her on her desk, Sometimes, the needle had to be poised between her fingers when she needed a more delicate touch. Once, Nebula even asked her to show her how to sew- she was making taxidermied animals and ‘wanted to see if I could copy your steady hands’. It ended up a bit of a mess, but Nebula put it up on her bedside table anyway. She liked imperfection and just patted the little squirrel’s head with its corkscrewed eyes. “Besides, it’s more memorable this way.” She offered to make Tulip a mouse to watch her sew if she found any, and Tulip found herself agreeing.

In seventh grade, Tulip had started to drag her to her girl scout meetings, to try and make friends. Some of the other girls still shied away, but if quiet little Bennett liked her and had gone this long without getting a scalpel through her brain, maybe she wasn’t that bad. She lit up when they mentioned they were working on a gardening badge and offered them her assistance. 

They learned that it was best to talk on her right side because her hearing aid on the left didn’t always work, and her needle-sharp laugh melted with the new acquaintances like gallium- just as bright, but not as pointed. In fact, when she dug in the dirt with the other girls, overalls smeared with soil and flowers surrounding her wrists, the hard edges that made her smile a smirk began to melt too.

Eighth grade came and went, and the night before high school, they were doodling on opposite pages of Tulip’s big sketchbook, laid out on the floor. “I just feel like… everything’s changing,” Tulip muttered. 

“It doesn’t have to,” Nebula said, chewing on her pencil with brace-clad teeth. “You’ve still got me, and you’ve still got the scouts that haven’t dropped out, and I’ve got you.”

Tulip rolled over. She was wearing one of her favorite shirts-- Neb had picked out the fabric, with a pattern of stars that rounded her stomach in a way that made her feel big in a good way, like the whole universe lay underneath her skin. “How much?”

“Huh?”

“How much do I have you?”

Nebula turned, bouncing her foot on the ground. “C’mon, I’m not good with the mushy stuff…”

Tulip scooted a little closer. “You’re my best friend, Neb.” She set a hand on Nebula’s cheek, rubbing a smudge of dirt with her thumb, and felt the thin cheekbones heat up underneath her. 

“You’re… you’re mine too,” Nebula muttered. “I feel… comfortable. With you. Cozy. Is that weird? You’re a very cozy person, and you managed to get me other people to talk with me, which is a feat let me tell you-”

Tulip kissed her. She could taste the root-beer flavored chapstick, and the feel slight indent of her braces, and Nebula’s gangly limbs just starting to grow into themselves folded into her lap like a fawn’s.

Nebula pulled back, adjusting her glasses that had tilted askew, but the smile on her face was wide enough to reach the stars before she leaned in again and the world melted around them, nothing but the rich scent of soil and copper that clung to Nebula’s clothes and the sweet strawberry perfume that dusted Tulip, and everything felt like tying off the final stitch on a perfect project. 

#tulix #aip #iz #shadow writes stuff

[spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia]

Mistletoe Mayhem: A Christmas Gift for

@princess-kidatheart17

“Hiiiroooooooooo!”

 Oh boy.

 Something was up.

 Hiro Hamada, SFIT’s resident robotics prodigy/superhero/lovable scamp/”genius boy” turned his chair around to welcome on the unwanted and unexpected visitor, but he didn’t even need to open his eyes to know who it was.

 Good. More time to massage his temples.

 “Oh… Are you… Ok?”, Karmi Khan, SFIT’s resident Bio-Tech prodigy/Big Hero 6 fangirl/lovable tsundere/“Best girl” (oh wait, that’s my nickname for her) found herself exhibiting an unusual emotion, at least, unusual in her relationship with the brunette boy trying not to sigh heavily.

 Hiro sighed heavily, contradicting me. “Karmi, I thought we were beyond petty fights! And I didn’t mean to leave my lunch behind in your lab!”

 Despite its slight surprise, Hiro expected a Karmi visit today. Good news or bad, his new friend (who he may or may not have slight feelings for) had been making daily check ups.

 What he didn’t expect (though he chided himself for that) was Karmi leaping up to him and hushing him with her finger, fear and alarm in her eyes.

 Moving the finger wordlessly, an annoyed Hiro with a raised eyebrow asked a sort of pointless question. “Karmi, are we seriously still doing this?”

 Karmi blushed red faster than light traveling in space and, with an incredibly impressive backflip, closed the door to Hiro’s lab and jumped back to him, her eyes darting around madly.

 Hiro stayed still in his seat, before lifting a perfect 10 sign.

 “Of course we still are seriously doing this! I’ll even do it absurdly, if the need arises!”, Karmi told him off, before wordlessly nodding at the other seat.

 Hiro nodded in approval and Karmi sat down, taking his bag of gummi bears.

 “Hey, I never nodded at that!”, Hiro remarked, with half a smile.

 “General vicinity, Genius Boy.”, Karmi bit back humorously, and she began to stuff a few in.

 Hiro shook his head in adoration and they resumed their conversation.

 “So, let me get this straight: Even though we’ve made up, even though everyone basically knows we’re friends now, and even though we’re smart enough NOW to know that there is something between us, you want to keep it secret?”

 “First of all, we are not dating, if that’s what you’re implying!”, Karmi, with a slightly full mouth, was wuick to correct.

 Pointing at him, she continued. “I may feel slightly sort of very intense feelings for you, but we are NOT dating.”

 Hiro slow clapped, a cocky smile gracing his lips. “And the Nobel prize for best explanation goes to…”

 “Ha, ha! I see you still major in comedy.”, Karmi retorted, but deep down she thought it was funny.

 She didn’t hide it as often these days, she was a lot more open in her adoration, but she had to hide it.

 At least… Here.

 Hiro, standing up and resuming his previous operation of fixing his armor, asked the necessary question. “So, I assume you’re not only here to remind me of what I already know.”

 Standing up as well and already peering over his shoulder (to his half annoyance-amusement), Karmi supplied the answer with a copy of the school paper. “Somehow, I am actually here to inform you of something you really should know.”

 Hiro stared at the paper in front of him before dryly remarking. “Not only do I not bother with print, but why would I care about a celebration of meat loaf in Room 3B?”

 Karmi took the paper back, grunted, and turned it around.

 Hiro’s eyes scanned the words and still looked phased as they reverted to Karmi’s beautiful…

 “Don’t think it. Not yet.”, he thought.

 Anyhow, Hiro was still confused. “A Christmas party is the problem? And here I thought the only Scrooge was Professor Granville.”

 “Actually, she REALLY loves Christmas.”, Karmi corrected, and Hiro couldn’t help but chuckle, raising the smallest smile on the girl.

 “Professor Granville and Christmas? Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

 He then stood up and crossed his arms, observing her with curiosity. “So, do please enlighten me to the “humbug” in the situation.”

 Karmi sighed, wondering how dense can one admittedly lovable boy be. “Hiro, surely even you know that a Christmas party with mistletoe and your friends is a recepie for disaster.”

 Now, Karmi’s assertion was absolutely true in every way.

 It was her timing that was a little off.

 Hiro began choking on the gummy bear that he extracted from the left over bag while Baymax woke up.

 “I was alerted to your presence when you made choking sounds. Like this!”

 Baymax began impersonating the choking noises quite adaquatley, and now it was Karmi’s turn to lift a perfect 10 sign as Hiro thankfully spat out the sweet.

 “I’m… Fine, Baymax.”

 Hiro did NOT want the inevitable…

 “My diagnosis is different. You appear to also be afflicted with a rapid heartbeat, sweaty palms, and hormonal activity retaining to…”

 “IAMSATISFIEDWITHMYCARE!”

 Baymax quickly shut down and Hiro, who had dashed to his robotic friend, was now panting on the marshmallow body.

 THAT was close.

 “Hiding it… You’re right, Hiro. It really is sad.”

 Hiro snapped back, pouting. “Uh, of the three people in this room, who barged in to tell me of the ever present and horrible danger of mistletoe?”

 “Karmi! Karmi did!”, a voice answered from above.

 “Yes! Well said!”, Hiro congratulated, before realizing someone was above them.

 “What the…”, Hiro and Karmi both said at the same time as they looked up and saw…

 “FRED ATTACK!”

 Fred dropped down from the ceiling, suction cups in his hands, and he bowed down exaggeratedly. “A thank you! A thank you!”

 Hiro and Karmi, blushing wildly, stammered and stumbled out unfinished questions. “Why are you… What are you… How did you…”

 “Oh! I was just sticking up on the wall with suction cups to hear your inevitable conversation over mistletoe. GoGo sent me!”, Fred informed with zero hint of awareness.

 Hiro and Karmi both sighed. “GoGo…”

 For some reason, GoGo was sort of fixated on proving that the two had feelings for each other. WHICH THEY DID NOT!

 But still, it was a recurring theme.

 And Fred had been roped in.

 Karmi, however, sensed a hole in the plan, and she grinned smugly as she approached the rich teen, a sight Hiro had to admit he had grown accustomed to.

 “Ah, but Mr. Frederickson, therin lies a problem in your plan!”

 She prodded him on the chest, cocky and sure. “We both clearly don’t want to kiss under the mistletoe, if one assumes you heard the entire conversation!”

 Hiro sat down, cocky too, and the two teens high fived. “She’s got you there, Fred!”

 But now it was Fred’s turn to cockily smile as he left the room. “Oh, that is true… But of course, 4 against 2 is quite the advantage…”

 And as he shut the door, Hiro and Karmi both blushed beet red and looked at each other with fear and alarm.

 They may have only become friends four months ago, but they were very much in synch enough for this statement:

 “We have GOT to stop this kiss.”

           “…Are you ready?”

 Hiro’s palms felt very sticky and sweaty, and he tried to wipe them on his ugly robotics Christmas sweater.

 “…Well, that depends. Do you have everything?”

 Karmi’s mouth felt very dry, and she hoped that her fidgety hands would not be noticed.

 “…I do.”

 Hiro wished the floor could swallow him whole.

 “Well… Let’s go stop your weirdo friends from making us kiss.”

 Karmi wished that she could stop time so she could run away and live on an island with a giraffe named Kenneth, but that wasn’t happening any time soon.

 Hiro gripped the doorknob and Karmi gulped.

 “Yes… Let’s do that…”

 Suddenly overreacting, both teens kicked the door down, revealing the main SFIT hall to be decorated with bowls of holly and somehow endearing yet still a little kitschy ornaments, from the usual bells, reindeer and Santa dolls to the less traditional Kaiju with a Santa hat.

 Blinding lights, cheery Christmas carols belted out from a humongous speaker system and many ugly Christmas sweaters enjoying the not exactly (but let’s not kid ourselves) spiked egg nog.

 Professor Granville would SURELY not like this!

 “Mr. Frederickson, is that festive Kaiju yours by any chance?”, the as ever serious and dry tone of Professor Grace Granville was not music to Fred’s ears, as he and his friends were still hatching their plot.

 Turning around with remarkable speed, Fred smiled sheepishly. “Why, it is! I seem to have…”

 Honey Lemon piped in. “Misplaced it!”

 Fred pointed back at her, grateful and jubilant. “YES! Misplaced it! Nice!”

 He turned around, cocky grin. “As my very helpful friend just informed you, I have misplaced this awesome beat of awesomeness! Don’t worry, I will have him removed immediately, as he is…”

 “Unfit?”, Wasabi offered hopefully.

 “Yep! That was the word I was looking for! Unfit for this great hall of Christmassy Christmas!”

 Fred smiled innocently, as did Wasabi and Honey Lemon (GoGo couldn’t be bothered).

 “Why, yes, Mr. Frederickson, he IS most unfit.”, Granville informed, before suddenly attaching a white beard to the Kaiju’s face.

 As Fred and the others gaped in shock, Granville beamed and danced off in a hurry. “IT’S CHRISTMAS! FUCK YEAH!”

 The foursome blinked in confusion before stating the obvious. “Huh! Who knew?”

 Hiro and Karmi, meanwhile, were hiding behind one of the snack tables.

 The cold floor was not very welcome, but Hiro’s butt would have to live with it as Karmi laid down the game plan.

 “Ok, so we have four obstacles to encounter: Fred, Honey Lemon, Wasabi and GoGo.”

 Hiro set down a small circular device, which, when opened, revealed a 2-D hologram of his friends, now turned enemies.

 Removing the Fred hologram, Hiro threw him onto Karmi’s arms. “Fred is too excitable not to strike first. And knowing him, his plan will involve comic books!”

 Now lying down on his stomach, Karmi repeating the act, Hiro took out Issue 2500 of Big Heroes and opened it on the final page.

 “Thanks to extensive research…”

 “I.E, listening in on Fred in the shower.”, Karmi rubbed in, and Hiro rolled his eyes.

 “Hey, he signs everything in the shower! Easy pickings!”

 Reverting to the plan, Hiro cleared his throat. “Moving on, this issue of Big Heroes end with Mr. Moe, the superhero who uses cuteness as a weapon, accidentally getting a mistletoe kiss from his on and off rival friend Haley Tju.”

 Hiro then pointed at a specific panel, one that is almost directly before the kiss. “And it happens because Fanboy Kaiju, the shipping trash monster, lures Mr. Moe under the mistletoe.”

 Karmi nodded, understanding fully. “You’re more used to Fred, so you should tackle him.”

 Hiro shook his head though, surprising his partner. “That’s what he WANTS! We need to surprise him, not play into his plan!”

 “He’d be expecting us to… No, you know what? I’m not going to even finish that one, he’s not smart enough.”

 Hiro and Karmi shared a small laugh and Karmi inserted the hologram into her folds as Hiro then picked up Honey Lemon.

 “You seem to be closer to her…”

 “Bio-Besties. Not the term I’d choose, but she likes it.”, Karmi admitted, with a small smile. She sort of liked how much Honey Lemon cared.

 Hiro pocketed this one. “Well, then, this one goes to me.”

 Next was Wasabi. “Now, Wasabi is probably going to be the easiest to handle.”

 “So I should have him!”, Karmi demanded, and she made a grab for the hologram, but Hiro kept it at arm’s length.

 “Hey! I already have to deal with Honey Lemon! I want Wasabi!”

 Karmi kept reaching for the hologram, though, grunting in frustration as Hiro stuck his tongue out.

 “Hiro! I should handle him! I actually know his weakness!”

 “Oh, please! Everyone knows it’s dirt! Even Mel, that one moron we fought once knows!”

 “Hurtful!”, Mel called out of nowhere.

 Karmi had to counter and fast, if she wanted to stop Wasabi.

 Luckily, she really did know his weakness.

 “No, Genius Boy! I’m talking about his OTHER weakness!”

 Hiro laid there, dumbfounded. “…What other weakness?”

 Using this for her advantage, Karmi snatched the hologram and send it flying into her folds.

 “Exactly.”, she grinned smugly, but Hiro couldn’t help but laugh at that.

 In an odd way, she had become so endearing to him, that he really didn’t mind.

 Finally, they reached the one they dreaded most.

 “And then there was one…”, Hiro announced morbidly, and a hologram of GoGo popped up.

 Both teens gulped in fear, clearly uneasy. GoGo was not just a physical challenge with her strength and speed, and a mental challenge with her brains: She was also determined to make fun of Hiro and Karmi’s… TOTALLY NOT ROMANTIC relationship.

 She was cunning, she was tough, and she would stop at nothing, efforts be damned.

 Hiro and Karmi exchanged knowing looks, and without a word, silently nodded.

 This would require all hands on deck. The two could only prevail by teaming up on GoGo.

 Slicing her in half, each one received a GoGo, the mission now ready to be taken on.

 Extending his hand, Hiro smiled encouragingly. “Good luck.”

 Karmi took the opportunity to barb with him, but she too was genuine deep down. “I mean, you’re the one who’s gonna need all the luck, but why sweat the small stuff?”

 The two giggled for a moment, before realizing how close they were on the floor to each other.

 Close enough to look into each other’s eyes, feel each other’s breaths…

 Maybe…

 Even…

 K…

 “OK, LET’S GET ON WITH THIS!”, Hiro suddenly shouted out, and he and Karmi, with VERY red faces, stood up and went to their positions.

 Shifting through a sea of slightly tipsy college students and robots “attempting” to do the Macarena, Karmi nearly tripped over a few feet, before finally finding Fred.

 Not that it was hard.

 “JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS, I DON’T KNOW THE WORDS! JINGLE JINGLE JINGLE JINGLE MOTHERFU(BLEEP) JINGLE!”

 The strangest part of Fred singing wildly and flailing all over the place in a Fanboy Kaiju costume, slurring all the words, was that he hadn’t drunk a single thing that night.

 Huh.

 Karmi, however, was a lot more cool and collected, and she grinned to herself as she turned her back to the rich boy and put on a certain hoodie.

 “Karmi Khan, you are a genius! Why, thank you, Karmi! You’re welcome, Karmi!”, Karmi congratulated herself, leading Hiro to radio in “Modest, much?”

 “Says the guy who has an edited recording of Tadashi saying “Noice and Toight” every time you succeed.”

 “…I would like to withdraw my comments from the record. The floor is yours, Ms. Khan.”

 Chuckling to herself, Karmi then took out a pre-recorded sound byte of Hiro, which she played right next to Fred after bumping into him.

 “Sorry, Fred! I’m just such a clumsy weirdo! Also, Karmi is smarter than me!”

 “THAT SOUNDS EXACTLY LIKE HIRO! TIME FOR OPERATION “MAKE SHIP SHIP AND ALSO LEARN TO SPEAK PROPERLY OR SOMETHING WHY DOO BUTTERFLIES CALL THEMSELVES BUTTERFLIES IF THEY PREFER MARGARINE?” TO START!”

 “Seriously? What if Fred wasn’t a total car crash of a human being?”, Hiro asked, annoyed.

 As Karmi Naruto ran away from a lumbering Fred, she radioed back with a playful grin “As if you don’t have a bantery recording of me somewhere!”

 Tucking in his deepfaked “Karmi sings “I’m a Barbie Girl” recording, Hiro sheepishly confessed with a “Yeah, probably, kind of, I wouldn’t know…”

 Karmi continued to dash along, pushing students to the side as Fred lumbered down the room, knocking even more.

 “HIRO! WAIT UP! I NEED YOU TO STOP SO I CAN ENFORCE ROMANCE ONTO YOUR LIFE!”

 “Wow, he’s not being subtle about this.” Hiro radioed Karmi as she slid under a table to hide for the moment.

 Karmi agreed, panting as Fred continued running for no reason. “I know, right? Why the heck would GoGo let him in on the plan?”

 What Hiro didn’t know, as he hid in the mini fridge, was that someone was already there…

 Waiting to strike.

 “Well… Maybe because GoGo knew that you’d send Karmi after Fred, so she sent me to follow you?”

 “H’mm… Maybe…”, Hiro said, scratching his chin, before realizing that someone was now… Right behind him…

 Beaming brightly, Honey Lemon waved cheerfully. “Hey, Hiro! Don’t mind me, GoGo just asked me to force a mistletoe kiss between you and Karmi.”

 As Honey Lemon tapped her chin, stating that she considered it “a little immoral, but whatever”, Hiro slowly got out of the mini fridge.

 “Karmi, I am being pursued by Honey Lemon! Fred is a diversion, I repeat FRED IS A DIVERSION!”

 Karmi was startled, the plan not spiraling out of motion, so much so that she stood up and dropped one of the snack tables.

 Food and punch spilled all over the floor, and many students turned around, seeing Karmi in Hiro’s hoodie.

 Karmi had to come up with an excuse, and fast!

 “…Hey?”

 Karmi was a genius, but even she was liable for a total “doi” moment.

 Unexpectedly, the students all suddenly picked up their own Hiro Hoodies, gesturing at them excitedly.

 “Huh. And I thought I was the only one who found it amazing.”

 “What?!”, Hiro, who was being chased by a giggling Honey Lemon with a butterfly net, asked incredulously.

 “NOTHING!”, Karmi shouted back.

 Able to focus now, Karmi started to think. “Fred as a diversion makes sense… And honestly, he should be out of my hair for now, since he’s a total moron…”

 “YEP! THAT’S ME! A TOTAL MORON!”, Fred confirmed as he breakdanced.

 Karmi fist pumped, seeing victory coming in hot. “PERFECT!”

 She took off the hoodie and narrowly dodged flailing elbows as she radioed a now roof climbing Hiro, who hissed like a cat as Honey Lemon jumped up and down to reach him.

 “I’m taking on Wasabi! Fred basically took himself down!”, Karmi informed as she leapt over a pile of presents.

 Peaking down, she moaned. “Aw man, none for me?”

 “Great! I just wish I could take Honey Lemon down!”, Hiro replied as he swung from one sleigh decoration to the next, Honey Lemon still in pursuit.

 Karmi slid between some elves legs. “What even was your plan?”

 Hiro narrowly reached the tree, hissing still as Honey Lemon barked enthusiastically. “I WAS GOING TO SPEAK TO HER NORMALLY! I THOUGHT SHE WAS SANE!”

 “YOU’RE MY OTP, WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

 “WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!?!”

 “Only true pairing.”, Karmi helpfully informed as she finally reached Wasabi, who was holding a vacuum cleaner of sorts and “calming” himself down by talking to himself.

 “Just relax, big guy. Suck your two friends in, make em kiss, and all will be fine…”, Wasabi whispered to himself, not realizing that Karmi was right behind him.

 Hiro, who could see this from the tree, prayed for Karmi. “With how hard this has been, who knows if Karmi can take on Wasabi! I hope she fares better than I have.”

 Karmi suddenly looked back and winked at Hiro, causing his heart to skip a beat.

 Turning back to Wasabi, Karmi tapped him on the shoulder.

 “AAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!”, Wasabi screamed as Karmi waved back.

 “Hey, Wasabi!”, Karmi greeted with a smile and closed eyes.

 Wasabi, calming down, waved back, his green sweater already stained with sweat. “Hey, Karmi!”

 Getting a little fidgety, Wasabi pointed at his device. “Say, I know this is weird, but GoGo be GoGo, you know! Um… Can you, like, let me suck you into this for kissing Hiro reasons?”

 Karmi put a comforting hand on Wasabi’s shoulder, apologetic. “Why, I’d love to, but I’m sort of busy.”

 Wasabi blinked, confused. Had he failed the mission? “Busy? Doing what?”

 Karmi suddenly unveiled what looked like Chris. “Hooking you up with Chris’ good twin who in no way is a criminal, Finn!”

 Wasabi took one look at the dashing man before him, with lovely blond hair and a sparkling smile, and then resumed staring at Karmi.

 “Don’t snitch on me and you’ve got yourself a deal!”

 “Wouldn’t dream of it!”, Karmi vowed, shaking Wasabi’s hand and watching as the two guys had a gay old time (kill me).

 Hiro, however, was less pleased. “HOW DID SHE GET ALL THE EASY ONES?!”

 Honey Lemon, meanwhile, continued to surround the tree. “Hiro… Come out, come out! I only want to ensure your happiness and fuzzy feelings!”

 The mad look on her eyes didn’t ease his soul, however.

 Hanging on to the tree, Hiro sighed. What could he do? Karmi was clearly smarter!

 He was just a…

 “A failure…”

 Karmi, meanwhile, who was still being very smug, was about to radio some more banter when she saw that her friend was seemingly lost.

 This made no sense to Karmi. Sure, she was clearly the real brains of the duo, but Hiro was a genius too!

 This should be easy for him!

 And if Karmi was really being honest, she totally believed Hiro could do anything if he put his mind to it!

 Seeing him like this depressed her. He needed some motivation.

 Perhaps…

 No, no, she couldn’t!

 Not in front of all these people!

 But deep down, Karmi knew that she had to.

 “That’s…”

 She took a deep breath and braced herself.

 “That’s what friends do.”

 And she smiled a little smile as she realized that Hiro really was her friend…

 And she knew that she wanted to go the distance for him.

 Now, usually, a writer for this fandom would most understandably use Tadashi as an inspirational motivator for a moment like this.

 But this time, someone else motivated Hiro.

 “COME ON, HIRO! YOU CAN DO THIS!”

 Looking down, Hiro saw Karmi do something totally unexpected: She was cheering for him.

 Not just cheering, but holding a sign with his name and jumping around like a cheerleader (and Karmi HATED cheerleaders!).

 “Who’s a genius, who’s a boy? Who’s gonna spread some Christmas joy? HIRO! HIIIIIRO!”

 Hiro was shocked at this exhibition of affection.

 But he was also touched.

 Enough to flip down from the tree and finally get Honey Lemon to leave him alone.

 “Karmi, read this slip of paper!”, Hiro ordered, as he slipped her a slip.

 Karmi grabbed the slip and read out loud.

 “Tadashi is gone?”

 Hiro suddenly burst into tears, the water level slowly rising in the party.

 Honey Lemon immediately threw away her butterfly net and hugged Hiro, comforting him. “Oh, Hiro! I am so sorry! But Tadashi isn’t gone!”

 Hiro cried on her shoulder and she patted his back, making him feel a bit better.

 “How can I make you feel better?”, Honey Lemon asked, kissing his forehead.

 Sniffling, Hiro mumbled “If you could leave me and Karmi alone, that would be great.”

 Nodding vibrantly, Honey Lemon ran out of the room. “No problem, Hiro! Just don’t cry!”

 Immediately wiping his tears away, Hiro cockily grinned at Karmi, who raised an impressed eyebrow. “Not bad, Genius Boy!”

 Hiro chuckled and high fived her, before suddenly getting a little shy. “So… You really meant all that before? I thought… I thought you wanted to keep this a secret of sorts.”

 Karmi now was a little red, but she stood up for her feelings.

 Smiling, she grabbed hold of his hand. “…Well… I’ve got your back. We are friends… No?”

 Hiro smiled and shook back. “Yeah… We are…”

 Holding on perhaps a little too long, feeling for once not alone, the two teens smiled before suddenly hearing a squee above them.

 Turning in horror, they saw Fred and laughed.

 “Oh, that’s rich! You’re going to stop us?”, the two geniuses challenged the shipper.

 Fred suddenly began to laugh sort of… Evilly.

 In fact, his whole body shook quite visibly as he laughed, causing Hiro and Karmi to exchange worried glances. “…Fred? You ok, buddy?”

 But Fred wasn’t there.

 Instead, it was…

 “GLOBBY?!”, Hiro and Karmi shouted as the former villain turned friend appeared.

 “YES! IT WAS I, GLOBBY!”, the pink ally pointed at himself.

 Turning again into Fred, he explained. “Fred may be dumb, but not THAT dumb! I was sent as a distraction to lower your guards!”

 “Fred” then grinned and pointed behind them. “Ah! I see Uncle Globby’s shipper squad is already here!”

 Hiro and Karmi gasped and turned around, fully expecting GoGo but instead seeing…

 “AUNT CASS?!”, Hiro screamed, disbelieving the maternal figure behind him, holding very sticky bread mix.

 “FELONY CARL?!”, Karmi screamed, shocked to find the former criminal with open and ready hands.

 “And me!”

 “…Yama?”

 Yama shrugged, smiling. “What can I say? You’re adorable!”

 Hiro and Karmi slowly backed away to the wall, scared out of their wits, as the four figures approached them “maliciously”.

 “Listen, guys, we don’t have to do it this way!”, Hiro nervously tried to convince as he ran out of floor.

 “Really, maybe we can postpone this to Valentines? WAY more romantic! NOT THAT I WANT TO!”, Karmi offered, sweat dripping down her neck.

 “Nope! This is the end of the line, kids! You gonna kiss!”, Globby said, and the four laughed evilly.

 It seemed like all hope was lost as Hiro and Karmi hugged each other in fright.

 That is…

 Until something else unexpected happened.

 Just before Globby could grab them.

 CRASH!

 “Hello!”

 Baymax, dressed as Santa Claus with Mini Max as a reindeer, crashed down the roof and onto the four shippers (the sleigh was made of marshmallow, so no one was hurt).

 “Baymax! Oh, you are the best!”, Hiro and Karmi hugged the robot as the four shippers shrugged and ate the marshmallow sleigh.

 “No one is the best, Hiro. The best is an unmeasurable…”

 “Yeah, great, see ya!”

 Hiro and Karmi decided to make a mad dash for the door, when they suddenly realized something.

 “Hiro, wait! GoGo and Fred are still out there!”

 “I know! Let’s get out before they get us!”

 Karmi blocked the door, and Hiro looked at her, puzzled.

 “Karmi, I’m trying to run away here.”

 “Hiro, think! If GoGo and Fred went to such extremes to make us kiss, they could be hiding somewhere with a portable mistletoe!”

 Hiro turned white. “Oh shit.”

 Karmi gripped his hand and looked at the party, with terrified eyes, as they began to walk in, approaching a closet door.

 “I hate saying this, but we need to stop them first. It’s the only way.”

 Hiro gulped, but smiled. “Ok. We’ll do this…”

 He extended a hand. “Together!”

 Karmi grinned and shook back. “You said it, friend!”

 But as they shook, Hiro suddenly overheard an odd noise.

 Karmi noticed this. “Um… Hello? Earth to Genius Boy? What’s wrong?”

 Hiro shushed her and pointed at the closet.

 Weird, wet noises could be heard, alongside muffled grunts.

 Terrified, the two opened the door slowly, expecting a trap or a monster o even worse, a shipping Obake.

 But instead, they found…

 “GOGO AND FRED?!?!?!?!”

 In the midst of a VERY wet and passionate makeout session were GoGo and Fred, who seemed to have forgotten all about the plan.

 “You are so divine, my knight in shining armor!”

 “You’re such a fucking idiot… Kiss harder.”, GoGo instructed as Fred continued.

 As Karmi giggled uncontrollably, Hiro cleared his throat. “Why, my dear Karmi! I believe we are interrupting something!”

 Fred and GoGo’s eyes widened and as Fred hid under his hat, GoGo, with a very phased expression, surrendered.

 “Don’t tell anyone, and I’ll let you off the hook.”

 Hiro and Karmi nodded, but not before GoGo added “and I WILL kill you if you tell!”

 The rest of the party was surprisingly normal, especially compared to the insanity beforehand.

 Pretty soon, the whole room was empty, save for Hiro and Karmi, who observed their hall of vanquish.

 Karmi sighed, pleased with herself. “I must say, we really nailed it!”

 Hiro, leaning on her, jokingly boasted. “Of course, much of the work was mine!”

 Once, Karmi would have argued with him, and they would have wasted valuable time sniping at each other.

 This time, though, Karmi just shoved him slightly, laughing. “For a genius, you’re a real idiot sometimes!”

 Hiro shoved back, laughing, and it wasn’t long before they rolled around on the floor, laughing and actually feeling free to be themselves.

 To be friends..

 Still giggling on top of each other, the two didn’t even notice where they were…

 Until, that is, Karmi looked up and…

 “…Oh…”

 Hiro, was on the bottom, looked at her quizzically. “What? What did you…”

 Then, he saw it.

 “…Oh…”

 Somehow, they had let their guard down long enough to stand under the very thing they had fought all night long to avoid.

 Karmi looked at Hiro.

 Hiro looked at Karmi.

 Both smiled weakly, embarrassed chuckles abound.

 Finally, pink blushes tinging their cheeks, the two were brave enough to take the step:

 “You know…”, Karmi started, really getting shy now, looking up at him with a soft smile. “…No one is here to see us…”

 “Yeah…”, Hiro agreed, holding his own hands and rocking a little bit. “I mean… It can just be a secret… Between the two of us…”

 “It’s not like it means anything!”

 “Yeah, exactly! It’s just… A totally platonic friends thing!”

 “Yeah! And nothing more!”

 “No dating here!”

 “Nuh uh!”

 …

 Finally, slowly but surely, they edged closer and closer, eyes closed…

 And their lips met in near silence.

 Not a single sound could be heard in the entire room, as Hiro and Karmi made each other feel special and loved for just a few seconds.

 Warmth enveloped them and seconds felt like hours.

 They felt…

 Safe.

 Finishing the kiss, the two teens held hands and looked at each other with short, slightly surprised breaths.

 Slowly, they smiled softly.

 “…Merry Christmas, Hiro.”, Karmi offered, blushing.

 “…Merry Christmas, Karmi.”, Hiro returned.

 And the two went back to their homes, hand in hand the entire way.

#big hero 6 fanfic #karmiro

[haikyuu-imagines-and-others]

I NEED TENDOU KIDLET SPAWN KNOWLEDGE! I need it like I need /AIR/

An Anon Request that was “/mysteriously/” deleted 

Pffffft alright alright calm down - honestly, I only had Tendou having a single daughter for the longest time, but then decided just today that I wanted him to have a son, too… Ya know… so he can be haunted by his own childhood while looking at his offspring? Ah… fun :) Thanks for the request - Admin Satori <3

Tendou Satori:

Akito (Bright Person; Like Autumn Season) - Son (8 years old)

Mirai (The Future) - Daughter (4 months old)

So many people. So much talking. So much staring, he was sure. What did they think? He was a freak, right? That’s probably what they thought. He hadn’t changed much since high school, maybe a hair cut here and there and a few piercings when he revolted against himself… But he’d gotten over that relatively quickly… maybe… Probably not, he did have plans for another ear piercing at the very least…

Did they see the shining on his ears? The one in his eyebrow? The holes in his nose and lip? God, what did they think of him? That he was probably some delinquent who wandered in. They’d probably be calling for the cops or security to get him out of there soon enough. Oh god - then what? What would they do? What would they sa-

“Look, baby girl, look at daddy.” Tendou’s attention was immediately brought away from the surrounding crowd of parents and teachers to where you sat beside him on the bleachers, your hand holding his softly. Mirai, his daughter, looked up from your neck, where she’d been about to put your necklace into her mouth, and smiled toothlessly up at her father.

You’d felt him freeze, you’d noticed his zoned out expression. He was panicking and overthinking, and here you were… you and your daughter… to bring him back to earth and tether him still. You didn’t blame him. The two of you looked a little out of place in such a crowd of pristine parents.

Pristine since you and your husband had somehow made it possible to get your son, Akito, into a private school. He got in easily with his academics and all, and while the payment plan had been horrible in the beginning months… This was the best plan for his intelligence to flourish. This was also the first time the two of you had attended an event at his school - his very first volleyball game!

Mirai reached out to her father, and giggled happily when he leaned his face down so she was cupping his cheeks, “Hey there, little fry, don’t eat mommy’s necklace.. Daddy got that for her forever ago… If anything, I get dibs.” Mirai only giggled more at his talking, the movement of his mouth making her hands press further into his cheeks, feeling the row of his teeth from the outside.

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, “You’d eat my necklace?”

He shrugged with a smile, “I did buy it…” Then he thought better of something and turned his head so he could press a kiss to your lips, only pulling a fraction of an inch away before you could recover from the surprise. He smirked, “Unless you want me to eat something else?”

But you didn’t fall for his clumsy flirting, and instead you leaned closer and ghosted your lips over his, “You forgot to eat before we left the house, didn’t you?” You pulled away enough to see his sheepish expression, shaking your head with a tsk coming from your lips. “I think they have-“

“A concession stand, yeah… Come with me?”

He didn’t want to go alone. Not with this many people around him.

Too many. Too many eyes staring.

His anxiety was creeping up his back, and while he wanted so badly to tune it out like he would in high school and college… he’d met you… and you’d helped him lower all his walls… The birth of your son had him even softer than before…. The birth of your daughter had him walking around as a sentient puddle at this point.

You wanted to. You wanted to go with him and protect him against whatever would absolutely not happen… but you couldn’t. “Satori, I gotta hold our seats…” You gave him an apologetic pout before leaning down and kissing the top of Mirai’s head, hiding your smile in her vibrant red locks, “Get me some chips or something, yeah?”

Tendou pouted, slouching forward in his seat comically and making Mirai giggle at her father’s silly actions, which only brought his attention to his daughter, “Mommy’s so mean to me, Little Fry Mirai!” His baby girl was too young to understand anything going on, so it wasn’t a surprise when he only got a playful raspberry in response. He gave one back at his sassy girl and you whined about being spit on from two different directions. “Fine, fine fine…. But you owe me!” He stood, tall as ever, and pointed at you with a mischievous smile, “Another baby.”

A violent blush overtook your whole body, and you smacked his pointing finger out of your face, “Satori!” He sent you a wink, even going so far as blowing you a ‘seductive’ kiss, before he was making his way down the bleachers to where he’d seen the concession stand before. “Your daddy is…..” You looked down at Mirai, who’d found interest in your necklace once more, “…. The love of my life…” You sighed with a bright smile, your hand brushing back her bright hair and feeling your heart swell when her red eyes met yours; Your husband could only produce identical copies of his own genes apparently.

He was a wonderful father, though.

Of course, he’d had such a low self esteem when the two of you met that even the thought of having a child with someone would send him into a self-depreciating spiral into darkness… but you’d shown him hope. You’d walked into his life, won his heart with memes and inside jokes and not being a complete dick about his appearance…. You loved him. The moment you’d met him, you’d known he was your forever… And while he hadn’t been so convinced and had been initially adverse to letting you close…. He grew attached to your persistence and determination…

And he fell hard.

It wasn’t surprising when you became pregnant after a couple months of dating him… Honestly, you were kind of surprised since you couldn’t remember not using protection… but hey, you took things as they came at you - you flowed without a fuss and handled situations as they were presented… And yes, you’d been worried that Tendou wouldn’t want to have a family so soon or even want you to be part of it or wouldn’t participate in being a father at all…

But he’d stepped up. Scared and worried and riddled with anxiety and voices saying he couldn’t ever measure up…. He stepped up and was there for you. The horrible morning sickness. The weird cravings. The first sonogram. He’d been the first person, including yourself, who’d felt your son kick from the outside.

Words couldn’t describe the way his face lit up from that feeling.

You’d like to think that was the moment he’d started being okay with being a dad so young.

Tendou wiped his hands on the edge of his shirt as he approached the little table, asking for their makeshift meal and a bag of chips for you… They were staring. Hardcore staring. He could feel the heat of embarrassment rising up his neck. Why was it so hard to ignore the staring? Couldn’t they just look away? He was just getting food like everyone else…

“Freaky weirdo~!”

Tendou flinched… only to immediately realize no one had said that to him…

Someone had said it… just not to him. He took his items and looked around the immediate area.

Nothing. Just staring people.

“What’s wrong with you? You’re different from us! Weird! Creepy!”

Around the corner maybe? Tendou forced himself not to focus on the people around him staring. He couldn’t focus on them right now. Not when he was hearing more or less the same insults he’d received when he was a kid.

“Were you grown in a lab? You’re so ugly!”

“I bet your mom left because you’re so horribly weird looking!”

“Freak!”

“Loser!”

Every insult had an aching spreading throughout Tendou’s body, sprouting from his heart - he remembered. He remembered every moment he was bullied and pushed around… and from the sound of it, so would this kid if Tendou didn’t put a stop to the vicious cycle.

Rounding the corner, Tendou felt the blood drain from his face… Everything faded away.

Akito. His son. Shoulders curled inwards, arms brought up to his head to protect himself as the kids surrounding him punched just beside him against the lockers. The slam of the metal making his son jump with fear, his lips curling inward to hide his whimpers and cries. There were tears.

Tendou could see his tears ….

“Leave me alone!” Akito begged, but the kids didn’t listen. “Leave me alone!” He wanted to fight back. He wanted to prove to them he was stronger than them and he wasn’t a freak or a weirdo. Akito may look like his father, but he had your fighting spirit… or was at least developing it.

His footsteps alerted the bullies. Their heads turning to see just who had interrupted their fun. “Oh?” He hummed, though he wanted to yell, “And just what are you all doing?” Akito looked up at the sound of his fathers voice, relief relaxing his expression just the slightest.

“Oh!” He’d caught them off guard. They hadn’t known their victim had been loud enough to draw the attention of an adult. “Uh… Nothing! Just talking to our friend here!” They gave sickly smiles as they pulled Akito from the lockers and wrapped their arm around his shoulders, though it was hard since Akito had his father’s childhood height. If there was ever a image definition of ‘uncomfortable’ it would be his son’s expression in that moment.

Tendou knew better of course. He’d been there to see it from the relative beginning… and he’d lived through it when he was his son’s age. He knew what was going on. But…..

No. No buts, he decided. The buts of bullying ended today. It ended here and now.

He gathered his courage and stepped closer to the boys, his red eyes seeming to glow with his intense glare directed towards the young boys. “If you ever touch him again….” He couldn’t threaten children could he? What kind of…. They hurt his son. He could see the signs of a black eye forming on the inside of the cup of his son’s eye. “It’ll be the last thing you ever do.” Ominous enough to be taken many ways….

At least if the kids told on Tendou, he could play innocent in that it wasn’t a direct threat. Not really. But they, the bullies, would know it was something to be taken seriously.

Without warning, Tendou reached forward and grabbed his son by the arm - with a grip that told him to hurry and follow, but making sure not to squeeze too hard… in case his son was really hurting from what had happened.

Akito was quick to duck under the bully’s hold, sending a sheepish wave in their direction as he allowed his father to pull him back down the hall. He wouldn’t be playing in the game today. The coach had already benched him since there were far better players on the team…. Not that it mattered much to Akito…. He just liked playing whenever he could!

But the thought of going back to the bleachers… where you would be sitting… where he’d have to explain his forming bruises and why his dad looked on edge….

The young boy felt sick to his stomach, and pulled his dad’s quick pace to a stop…. Tendou didn’t have to look at his son’s expression to know what he was feeling. Both of them loved you very much, but Tendou knew from experience that the moment you found out someone was bullying your loved ones…. You wouldn’t tolerate a single second more of it.

Which would always place them in the spotlight of everyone’s stares while you put the bully in their place.

There were too many people around for Tendou to be comfortable with that now.

Especially with his son being in the crossfire as well? He shook his head to push out the thoughts before turning to face his boy, kneeling down on one knee to be on his level. “This is gonna feel weird, but…. It’ll help hide it for now…” Dad always came prepared. Tendou pulled out a small tube.

Concealer.

Ever since his first run in with bullies in middle school, Tendou always kept a bottle on him. To hide the results of those run ins. To disguise the bruises at least until he was safe and home. This wouldn’t be any different…. Only it was entirely different.

This was his son.

Guilt rose inside his heart at the sight of the forming bruises, his long fingers rubbing the cream softly over the signs of bullying. He’d failed. As a father. As a protector…. He couldn’t keep his son safe. “I’m sorry, Akito….” His heart broke in his chest when Akito’s red eyes met his own; so much trust and understanding… Tendou knew he didn’t deserve it.

Akito was a bit taken aback…. His dad rarely called him by his name. It was always pet names. Kid. Kiddo. Fry. Noodle. Fire-stack. Troll doll. It was how he showed his affection, and it helped Akito quickly come to terms with his appearance because these were the same nicknames Tendou had been given when he was growing up. Troll doll and kiddo were Akito’s favorites, honestly.

But no nickname? Something was wrong.

And, much like you would, he acted accordingly. Akito wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and held him as close as he could. “It’s okay, daddy… I’m okay.” And he was. Sure he’d been hit, and bullied, and teased… and sure that’d taken a few hits to his pride…. But he was proud of his dad, and he was happy with how he looked.

You and Tendou had succeeded in making him comfortable with who he was.

Tendou held his son close, hiding his face in his shoulder and closing his eyes tightly. His baby boy was so strong… So much stronger than Tendou had been at his age. “Your mom is gonna kill them…” He muttered, and the responding laugh of his boy had Tendou’s internal panic settling.

Everything would be okay….

A/N: I did not write this request for a full 2-3 days just for it to have been deleted.... I am... SO mad right now.... shaking with rage....

#Admin Satori #Haikyuu!! #Haikyuu!! Scenario #Tendou Satori #angst #Domestic #Domestic OCs #Akito OC #Mirai OC

[terescs-blog]

( ana de armas + cis female + she/her ) — there’s a rumor running around about a survivor called TERESA HENDRIKSEN, NEE MACHADO. they are said to be thirty one years old, from havana, cuba, and have been labeled the maven. fitting, considering that they are reported to be relentless + intelligent, as well as bemused + anxious. they reside in fisherman’s wharf and are a healer. apparently they are a bisexual + gemini. fidgety fingers & stacks of research.

name: teresa rafaela hendriksen (nee machado)

nicknames: tessa, tete, terezita, t. she loves them all and is not picky, becoming a fan of even mean ones.

age: thirty one

orientation: bi (romantic and sexual)

languages spoken: spanish (native, mother’s tongue), english (native, first language)

origin and location: havana, cuba; later miami, and prior to the virus, washington. currently, the fisherman's warf camp

occupation: phd student of biochemistry & researching staff at the university of washington; currently, a healer at the camp. 

family: jose ricardo machado (father, unknown state), luciana aguillar (mother, deceased), bram hendriksen (husband, alive), josephine amalia hendriksen (6 year old daughter, alive).

personality type: enfp-t (the campaigner)

hair color: dark brown. she was blonde for quite a while, but it became a hassle after a few months in the epidemic. it stands above her breasts, flatly, with bangs above her eyebrows to match.

eye color: hazel, of the shades of golden and green.

height: 166cm

her father was the first of them in the US. like many cubans post revolution, he came in with the operacion pedro pan, still as a child. he only returned to cuba when he was grown, under the US navy. there, josé met luciana, and not with much delay, teresa was born.

truth to be told, she doesn’t remember cuba all that well. she was about two when they managed to save enough to get to miami, so that’s where she grew. life by the beach had always been a constant in her life, and teresa was the most excited toddler when the marines officers’ ship came to bay.

( TW: PARENTAL DEATH) the childish excitement was never put to rest. the characteristic would become a defining trait to teresa, much to the chagrin of some, and the delight of others -- but for her, it was a way of survival. the blind optimism and bubbliness was what kept her going through the long days of wait with no word from her father, or the life with a immigrant mother and little means & it was what kept them all going through her mother's sudden illness and demise.

she was still fairly young when her mother died, so her father had to apply for a transfer. america had changed, he had changed, but he had a young daughter and they needed to be there for each other. there was a lot to adapt, but they made do. teresa would go from school to work, from work to home, get her share of housework done and take some time with her dad. on the remaining time, she buried herself in her school work -- it was the only way out, she had always been told.

turns out she had a knack for it. while girls her age dived in parties and boys, she was the last of labs during college, but her name was the first in every internship and fellowships. her mother's illness was the instigator to her curiosity, which had always ran high, and stimulated her to the field. she had a biology and a biochemistry degree by the age of 23, and, when she was 29, was gunning for a spot in the washington cdc facility. she was pretty high on the list too but DONT REMIND HER THAT. 

that was when all hell broke loose. there was no time to pack or think, and teresa relied heavily on her husband bram and on his instincts to get them and their daughter to safety. lbr she still relies on bram a lot bc ya know hes your broody post apocalyptic poster boy while she is this wide eyed enthusiastic scientist who stands at like 5'6. dont ask me how they still workin i dont fucking know!!!

she found some use for herself as a healer on the wharf, despite not having a medical background herself; she still was willing and very prompt, and her knack for research and laboratory work was a saving grace. she's easily found on the medical building (tent? space???idk), but she's helpful and will double as any profession and be anywhere someone is needed.

tbh, restless. can't shut down wont shut down, catch her up at 5 in the morning running on 2 hours of sleep and enthusiastically greeting every single camper by name. she looves the wharf, loves being by the beach and she considers every single person her family and bc of that she will be that nosy mom friend that cant shut up. she has always been pretty bubbly and on the edge, and even without coffee, she has managed to keep that up by running on sheet anxiety! fun!

the personification of michael in that the good place episode when he finds out about death

extra:

though hesitant and very anti violence (deadass laughed about when would she need to use a gun to her husband prior 2016) she does know her way around survival. she hates getting out of thr camp but is always well packed with a mace, some surgery knifes and a gun, which is her preferred method of putting down walkers bc it's what damages the brain the least (and she needs those to study). catch her being that crazy scientist who begs fellow survivors to be careful with the "infected species". 

(TW: ANXIETY, SELF HARM) like many others, unhealthily copes with her anxiety. (non) sleeping pattern already mentioned, she is also always carrying something to twiddle with, squeeze and, on bad days, she snaps a elastic band around her wrist. as of late she is getting a lot of bruises bc of that so if ya game, hold her hand instead

has like....no boundaries. is always calling people to visit and inviting herself into people's lives and acting like a mother hen. also probably likes to ask people for blood tests bc she's a god damn weirdo that won't rest until there's some sort of vaccine

while she is not in a proper leadership position in her camp, she is somewhat outspoken about her beliefs and what is good for the camp and she is very big on education. it has always been quoted as "a way out" for her so that's what she keeps repeating, even in a dead world (dont tell her it's dead)

she has not been in contact with her dad for over 6 months so that's an Extra Source of Stress right now, and a reason she tries to take peeks at the beach and at new survivors whenever possible

Listen i wrote this Twice (bc my browser is shit) so dont judge this bad intro so badly and pls plot with me and this crazy sunshine like b! thanks!! 

#intro.hell #am i on the tags yet??? get your shit together tumblr!!! #tw: parental death #tw: anxiety #tw: self harm #very light mentions but better safe than sorry!

[savetheplanarians]

The Weight of Love

N.B. This happened a few weeks ago.  I’ve been doing better since then, but I feel like the point still stands and it might be worth saying.

When I was in college, there was a small child who was the son of our lab technician.  Several times a week, he would bike past my house on his way home from the arboretum and show me whatever treasure he had found.  We had a great fondness for each other, because he was the only six-year-old I had ever met who knew that there existed a venomous mammal, and I was the only grown-up he had ever met who knew that the venomous mammal was a shrew and not a vole.  Often, he would leave me with some of his treasures, especially if his mother wasn’t going to let him take them home.  Treasures consisted of a baby garter snake, some earthworms, a dead toad, neat rocks, and piles and piles of crickets.  I was absolutely delighted with all of this, obviously.  In our house, it became a running joke that the only boy I would ever marry would have to bring me crickets, because I was aggressively uninterested in men at the time but adored this small boy with all of my heart.

Recently, my life has been about a dozen disasters all at once.  On top of this, my brain has decided to stop playing for my team, and so I’m weeping into my pillow wishing that this too too solid flesh would melt and resolve itself into a dew about twice a week.  One of the less disastrous but still not ideal things has been a young man who is one of my best friends and will not date me, despite my best efforts to the contrary.  But, he remains one of my best friends, and a delightful feature of this is that he sends me pictures of neat bugs that he sees at work (or neat mushrooms, or neat turtles, or neat parasites on neat turtles, et cetera).  A week or two ago I received a picture of a katydid, which was obviously great, but also prompted me to tell someone that I was so frustrated, because I had finally found a young man who would give me crickets and I couldn’t date him. 

I got a package in the mail today.  It came from Amazon.  I hadn’t ordered anything from Amazon.  Inside was a bag of cricket cookie mix, which is just regular cookie mix with ground up powdered crickets as a flour substitute.  And I was staring at it in utter confusion when I realized … someone had given me crickets.  One of my friends had listened to my tales of woe regarding this young man, and then had sent me crickets. 

And obviously the crickets are a metaphor, right, they’re a way of expressing a broader concept of being known so well that a person will do the things that make you and only you happy, you weirdo, because they love you well enough to understand who you are and what you value most, and they recognize the ways in which you are unique from all the other humans out there in the world and then make an effort to demonstrate that knowledge so you feel loved.  The crickets are a metaphor.  And one of my friends, who I think is well aware of this, sent me crickets, and it was such an effective reminder of a truth that I firmly believe but sometimes forget to own: That friendship is a beautiful and complete form of love, in and of itself.  Romantic relationships are also a beautiful and complete form of love, but it’s not like friendship is a mediocre substitute for romantic love.  It’s its own unique thing, and it’s a worthwhile goal to strive for, because the love you have for your friends can be just as meaningful and just as profound and just as impactful as the love you have for your romantic partner-person.  Friends can also give you crickets. 

It took me a hot second to figure out who actually sent the crickets.  I thought I had a solid guess, and then that turned out to be wrong, so I made two more guesses, and those both turned out to be wrong, but they each had three or four suggestions of their own, and I asked close to a dozen people before I finally tracked down the actual perpetrator.  As I was wracking my brain for more candidates, I realized the sheer volume of love that permeates my life.  The fact that I had so many people to ask ‘Did you send me cricket cookie mix?’ is evidence of the quality and quantity of that love. 

Which leads me to the other point to this story.  When my brain is especially broken, it gets hard to figure out how to keep living life. Everything turns into an ordeal, and there is uncontrollable weeping for no justifiable reason, and I spend two hours in the morning sitting on the floor of my room because I can’t imagine how I could have enough motivation to put on my other sock.  It is … not great.  It’s a hard place to live, and it’s hard to remember that I won’t be living there forever, because my brain will eventually figure out its serotonin imbalance and start working again.  And the thing, the one thing, that keeps me from flying away from all of that mess, is the weight of love in my life.  All of the love that is manifested by my friends and my family holds me down and holds me here, because it’s too heavy to abandon.  I am held here by the packages with profound personal significance sent to my house by friends in other states, and the emails with funny stories, and the long-distance help with solving problems that seem insurmountable when I’m this tired, and the texts in the evening to make sure I’m still present and accounted for, and the phone calls in the morning while I’m sitting on the floor contemplating the other sock, and the couches that are always available to cry on, and the pictures of neat bugs, and the visits from people who really don’t have time to drive for 4 hours to hang out and look at the stars and make dinner and watch movies and give hugs, but who do it anyway, all on account of how they love me.  And when my brain is especially broken, I don’t feel like I deserve any of that love, and accepting it is hard, and I can’t figure out how to pay it back. Because now, now I OWE all these people something, for what they’ve poured into me, and none of them seem to want anything except for me to keep sticking around.  So now I have this enormous debt of love, and I can’t go anywhere until I repay it, which anchors me into this life.  And, of course, this is not how love works.  You can’t quantify it enough to know when the balance is equal, there is no way to tell when you’ve broken even, because it’s not possible to keep score.  But the weight of it holds me back in a beautiful way, and so here I am, still. 

So, to every one of you who is weighing me down: Thanks.  I could not do this without you.

#this is my life #a pile of good things and bad things #the good things are very good #and that's important to remember

[pandabearlikes]

My Husband, Kim JunMeow

Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Chapter o3. The Nudist  

“Alright!  Let’s go!” I grunt and attempt to drag the kitty out.  A long streak of scratch marks run from my living room floor boards to the door frame.  He clings on as if his dear life is really up for grabs.  “Crazy cat, I’m bringing you to the animal shelter to find you a new home!”  

“MEOW~~~@@~#~!#@$@$@%@%” the feline grouchily fusses and digs his nails into the cherry wood.  GREAT, another chunk of my non-existent paycheck.  

“Come on!  I researched the place; the shelter is a no-kill.” I grunt, "People like cats, alright?  You will find a home really fast,” I try to persuade, lift my leg, and step down another step of the stairs.  The length of this cat’s torso and the pure strength from that tiny being amazes me.  “Do you have a gym membership or something?!?!!?”

“MEOWOEWEWEWEWWWWW~” he shrieks.  Floor tenants swing open their doors to check out the business.

“She’s just playing violin again,” one of the neighbor’s son, a bratty 9 year old boy exclaims.  I almost face palm and run back into my apartment out of embarrassment.  Opening my mouth, I brainstorm a good counter attack because I’m petty af sometimes, okay?!  But I didn’t know which is worse: admitting my musical talent is equivalent to a dying cat or admitting that there might, in fact, be a dying cat here, because I’m just seconds from strangling this crazy, stubborn monster.

“ARGH!” I groan, let go, and collapse against the welcome mat.  I surrender, Oh my God, I surrender.  My arms are sore, my legs are sore, my muscles are sore, my bones are sore.  The kitty’s belly rest against my thigh and it’s fuming like a hot potato from all the energy he exerted.  Huffing and puffing, I pick him up and head back into the house.  Gently, or as gentle I could be in my state of fury, I place him against the cold stone kitchen counter so his body temperature could be brought down.  

“Meow~…” the trouble maker purrs in jubilation while I claw at my hair.

Distaster!  Distaster!!!!  Pure Distaster.  This is exactly why I keep my guard up because the moment I drop it, this happens.  I let a crazy monster into my life and now he won’t go out.  

“Chillax, Girl,” Lila laughs through the phone.

“I HATE CATS,” I repeat for the -umph time.

“I’ll be right there.  Hehehe,” my friend’s voice fills with so much excitement and anticipation, I almost feel bad for her.  Just wait until she sees how similar this feline is to the Devil’s spawn.  

I glance around and eye the sleepy kitty.  “Should I cover up for you?” I pat his behind and invite him to be my accomplice.  It’s pure friendship betrayal but if it saves my white walls and pleather sofas… I begin to hide the scratch marks on my wooden floor by dragging my rug over to the spot.  

“Meow?” the cat lifts his head up and narrows his eyes.

“I’M HERE!  I’M HERE!!!” Lila hops up and down as she rings my doorbell.  At a speed faster than light, I fling open my door.  

“TADA!  CAT!  TAKE HIM.  PLEASE!”

“OH MY GOD!!!!!” the bubbly cat lover squeals and rushes into the apartment.  As if this is some drug dealing heist, I slam the door shut and check that all the blinds and curtains are down.  With my heart sending excess blood through my system, I traipse my way behind Lila.  My lower lip swells from my lip biting.  

“What’s his name?!” she asks and gazes in awe.  I swear, from her eyes, I almost think it’s a mystical unicorn in front of us and not a feisty cat.  

“Uh…Kim JunMeow…” I say the first name that comes into my mind.

She stops in front of the curious but hostile feline and begins her instinctive baby cat talk.  “Sho cute~~” she weeps and reaches a hand out to pet her spiritual animal’s head.  To both our surprise, he hisses and smacks her hand away.  The sweet girl gasps, a little hurt by his reaction.  

“Hey!” I point and discipline.

“Don’t yell at him!  He’s just scared,” she defends him while I narrow my eyes because I know better.  Scared?!?!?  This cat is fearless.  Again, Lila tries to stroke his fur.  He responds by baring his teeth and hissing.

“NO!  Bad boy!” I scold.  As soon as I hold my hand out, the strange little monster zealously walks over, wraps his paws around my wrist, and nuzzles his head against my arm.  

“Wow,” my best friend exclaims, “He...loves you.”

“No, he doesn’t!” I argue.

“Meow :)” the white kitty counters.  A placid purr rings into the air as he winds both front and hind legs around your left arm.  

“He’s completely bonded to you!” Lila marvels.  “That’s so beautiful,” her lips ripple and I blink.  “Pure and utter love…”

A dry scoff coughs from my throat.  “Pure love, my ass.”

Kim JunMeow counters my argument by climbing up my arm and making his way up to bump his nose against mine.

“See!! That’s a sign he loves and trusts you,” Lila claps her hand together and concludes, “Yep, you gotta keep him for the rest of his life!!”  

“No!  No no!” I frantically shake my head and reject such foretelling.  “Lila, wait!  DON’T LEAVE ME WITH THIS CAT!”

“Hehehhee,” the silly girl giggles and waves goodbye.

Any efforts to run to her for help are prohibited by the clingy meow-face who has anchored his hind legs onto the edge of the kitchen counter and his front paws around my wrists like a handcuff.  He doesn’t let go until Lila’s completely out the door.  

“I hate you,” I mumble and slouch into the chair.  My forehead slams against the counter with miscalculate force that sends fire through my brain cells and the cat jolting up into the air.  Stars and happy rainbows revolve around my world.

“Me- Oww….” the kitty sulks and worriedly kneads my head.  I groan and blow concentrated air at my bangs.  A dark pinkish maroon already starts to form where my head contacted the marble surface.  I think I’m seconds from crying but instead, I get up to start typing my lab report.  

“Meow…meow…” my mortal enemy tails me but I completely ignore him.  

Seconds from completing my assignment, Kim JunMeow leaps up onto my lap, stands tall on his hind legs, and begins to rub my bruise with his paw.  

“Sta-staph!” I shout, with a mouthful of fur while attempting to move my mouse and click the save button before hours of hard work goes down to waste.  Click.  Click.  Click.  I struggle.  And then, the cat freezes; his pupils dilate.  Activating his hunter mode, he turns around and pounces on the computer mouse.

“NO! NO YOU, PABO!  THAT’S NOT A REAL MOUSE,” I bellow so loud, I swear neighbors at the other end of the hall could hear.  But my words don’t transfer into the feline’s ears.  Pounce.  He clicks and hits bull eye on the red “X".  Blood drains from my face as the screen goes blank.  

“KIM JUNMEOW!!” I shout.  

~

It’s been a week since Kim Junmyeon reentered my life and to be completely honest, everything felt like a dream.  A dream I had woken up from, memories still sharp and crisp but slowly fading away each second that time passed.  They say life moves on…even after having a random guy come barreling (naked) into your life.  Everything is back to normal…

Except Mr. Kim JunMeow and the fact that the parental units are onto something.  “When is he going to stop by and have this discussion, he promised?” My dad keeps interrogating me over the phone.  

“He’s busy,” my heart tries to stay afloat as I lie and literally lie back down onto the bed.  The nape of my head coincidentally lands on JunMeow’s fluffy warm body.  

“BUSY?!  Too busy to set things straight with his wife’s family?  Does he even love you?” my father’s quick and thoughtless words make my heart grow sour.  It’s not that I really felt the need for this stranger’s love; it’s more of the fact that the question was stated in a way where it made me doubt whether I would ever find that special someone who would love me despite my flaws.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I run my slim fingers through my hair and say, “Dad, I’ll call you back later.  I have to study for my exam.”

My arms drop back against the bed, I roll over to my side.  The snow-colored feline peers over at me with his bright circular orbs.  Frowning, I play with his paws.  Interestingly enough, I’ve grown a liking to stroking those squishy little cat pads of his.  It is kinda…therapeutic in a way.

“I miss him…” I say my thoughts out loud.  

The cat straightens up as if interested in my one-person conversation.

I shake my head and frown.  It’s not even like we had a one-night-stand.  These feelings of longing are so uncalled for and are probably lies due to my own thirst for some testosterone…at least that’s what I try to tell myself.  I tap the quiet kitty’s pink nose.  

“What are you looking at?” I automatically say in a baby voice.

“Meoow,” he responds.

Again, I tap his wittle nose and absent-mindedly think out loud, “How could he just disappear without saying bye like that…coming and going without warning…”

“Meow…Meow…” the cat answers and tries to wrap both paws around my hand so I could pet him.  I pretend to resist the tension.

Instead, I tap his nose again.  “Why can’t you be him?” I say, both meaning it but not really meaning it because I didn’t actually think a cat would understand human language.  To my surprise, JunMeow straightens up and starts to bounce up and down on the bed as if in excitement.  

I raise my brow and giggle.  “You’re sucha weirdo…”

The familiar vibrations of a long purr hums into the air and he starts to nuzzle his fluffy head against my arm.  

“That wasn’t compliment!” I laugh but JunMeow continues to head butt me.  “You’re so cliiiingy…” I half-complain, half-laugh.  Finally, the over simulated kitty calms down, resting his bread loaf body right beside me.  He’s so, so soft, like a pillow, and warm like a personal heater.  Along with the soft drizzles of rain that platter against my window, my eyes begin to sway and I drift off to sleep.

Twenty-minutes passes by.  Awakened by the deafening thunder outside, I automatically curl myself into a protective ball.  The weight of warmth cradles me, bringing me deeper and deeper into the state of mediative consciousness.  Licking my lips, I whimper and stir.  My bed mate tightens his hold around me.  He’s so cozy and smells of springtime cherry blossom buds.  My body yearns for his touch, and closeness..closer than close.  Heated core and ticklish heart, I giggle in my semi-consciousness.  It’s the best sleep I’ve had in ages despite it having been barely a power nap.  Arms stretch out wide as I yawn.  Slowly but surely, my lashes flutter open.  Color blotches form back into pure imagery, painting the captivating outlines of my companion’s handsome face.  I let out a half giggle.

…

Wait…

“AHHHHHHH!!” I scream.  

As if history repeats itself, I discover myself tumbling off backward from my state of shock.  Only this time, my male companion hastily grabs onto me - one hand around my wrist and the other around my ankle.  I’m left with 2/3 of my body dangling over the mattress.  Gasping, I lift my head and roll my eyes all the way to my side to reaffirm my previous perception.  Milky white peach against my white sheets.  With a grunt, the fitspirational man yanks me back up onto the bed.  His strength causes my small frame to barrel over from the acceleration.  I face plant…centimeters from his exposed manly parts.  Eyes widen, hearts pace with turbulence.  If I so much as to move…

My concentrated breath inadvertently causes said male sex organ to naturally respond with delight.  I look up at Junmyeon, who looks down at me with soft but boiling eyes.  I gulp.  

“AHHH!” I cry and lift myself up, taking a blanket with me to obsessively wrap around my body.  WHY?!  I don’t know.  I was not naked.  HE WAS.  

Junmyeon blinks and I try my hardest to keep my gaze directly at his eyes and not down there, even though it’s tempting.

“WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS NAKED?!?!?!?” I toss a pillow at him and shout.  Again, priorities??  Shouldn’t the first question be, “WHY ARE YOU ON MY BED?  HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?!?!”

“Oh…” the male obediently takes the pillow, covers himself up, and cluelessly says, “Sorry, I’m not used to being clothed.  Would you like me to put clothes on?”

“No!  I mean YES!” I choke and start to hack out coughs from overexerting my vocal cords.  

The caring Junmyeon tries to reach out to pat my back but I swat his hand away.  I point to my wardrobe and instruct, “CLOSET. PUT ON CLOTHES NOW!” before my ovaries implode on thy self, you sexy man.  

Nodding, he bounces off the bed to grab a shirt and a pair of pants.  I turn away and try my best to regain my composure.  He returns; his fingertips tickle my spine and I jolt.  Tenderly, he strokes my back.  I blink and tilt my head up to look at him while trying not to hack out a lung.

“Thirsty?” he asks and my blood runs cold because I think I’m busted.  “Let me get you a glass of water,” he elaborates and heads off to the kitchen.  As soon as he is gone, I release a deep inhale.  This week has just been too much for my fragile soul.  Fanning myself, I scan around the room and try my hardest to bring my body temperature down.  

“Dammit, Girl, can you not!” I grumble and scold myself when I part my legs and feel a familiar wetness.  

The sound of glass shattering douses out my fire.  Blinking, I get up and head over to the kitchen to access the situation.  Junmyeon had accidentally knocked a glass cup over and onto the floor.

“No!” I shout.  “Don’t pick it up with your bare hands,” the volume of my voice softens a bit.  Striding over to the storage cabinet, I grab the broom and dustpan and sweep up the shattered bits.

“Sorry,” the apologetic male pouts and scratches his head.

“You aren’t hurt, are you?” I inquire out of genuine concern.  He shakes his head.  With a sigh, I rub my belly and ask, “Have you eaten yet?”  Again, he shakes his head…and I’m almost glad, though, I try very hard not to show it.  Clearing my throat, I stroll over to the fridge and pull out a collection of gourmet styled fish.  I nearly never ever buy such high class food…what has gotten to me this week, only God knows.  Chewing on my lower lip, I serve him a plate.  

“Thanks,” he beams and claps his palms together in gratitude.  I muffle a giggle and cook a small portion for myself.  

“Don’t think it’s for you,” I half-lie, “I recently rescued a cat and he refuses to eat canned cat food…” I pause and spin my head around.  “Wha…what happened to…” Getting up, I did some preliminary search.  “Meow meow.  Crazy cat, come out.  You must be hungry…” I try to lure but he is no where to be seen.

Chuckling, Junmyeon forks a mouthful of food and chomps away.

“JUNMEOW-AH!” I yell.

“Ye-yes?!” the human stutters, startled by the volume of my call.

“Oh, not you.  My cat,” I correct.  He throws me an innocent stare.  “Heh…” I rub the back of my neck and explain, “I’m not very creative with names so I just named him JunMeow…I hope you don’t mind.”  With an amused grin, Junmyeon shakes his head.

Wait…why am I apologizing to an intruder.

Narrowing my eyes, I grab a fork and point it at him.  The innocent man raises both palms up on either side of his head.  “How did you get into my apartment?!  This is the second time!” I grill.

“I never left,” he honestly replies.

“What?” I blink.  

“You let me in,” Junmyeon reasons and turns back in his rolly chair to continue eating.  

“What are you even talking about…?” I scratch my head and take a seat across from him.  This mysterious man oddly enough didn’t scare me but instead made me feel frustrated and confused…

“I heard you missed me…” the handsome man nonchalantly states.  It causes me to choke on my food.  Fumbling, I grab a glass of water and chug it down.  No slick.  

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I turn away and nervously laugh.

The sweet and knowing grin on Junmyeon’s face causes me to blush.  I slap my hands over my face to hide it from him.  It only makes him beam in delight.  Unable to handle his striking presence that caused my head to whirl, I acknowledge that it’s time for me to go to class.  He nods.

“I’ll wait for you here,” he promises but I frown.

“You said that last time and you left,” I argue as I slip on my canvas shoes.

“No, I didn’t,” the strange man retorts and it’s so weird…he says it as if he isn’t lying.  

“Ye…yeah…well…even if you have to leave, can you leave me a note so I know you didn’t get mauled by my cat,” I chew my lip and slap the notepad on my fridge.  

Junmyeon smiles into his, “Sure,” and it’s so pretty and enchanting…I start to seriously wonder if he is not real and just an Angel sent from the Heavens.  That would explain why he vanishes and arrives back into my apartment without warning.  

“Where is that cat anyway…?” I mumble and bite my nails, a little sense of worry startles my heart but I conclude that JunMeow is probably hiding in one of my billion cardboard boxes and that I’d find him after I return.

Class is a nightmare, as always.  What is up with professors assigning twelve chapters to read anyway?  Are they instructors or schedulers - because at this point I am basically paying him 25k a semester to assign me to self-teach.  Grumpy and stressed, I skid-dadle down the block on my way home.  Rubbing my invisible beard, I purposefully take a different route, which passes by the local department store.  

“Clothes…clothes…” I murmur as I scan through the men’s section.  My feet get a little giddy; their clothes are always more practical anyway.  I grab a few graphic t-shirts and throw it into the cart.

“I love fish,” a shirt says with an adorable kitty graphic on it.  Giggling, I grab it and hold it out at an arm’s length to admire it.

“I think he’d like this one…” I grin and add it to the cart.  From the pants rack, I chose a navy blue and black pair of sweats.  It is at the undergarment section, where I have a hard time.  I mean…it isn’t a necessity…I am already clothing and fed him free of charge.  And yet…it is absolutely necessary.  An image of the large bulge flashes through my mind and I shake myself to snap out of it.  Simple pants left little to imagination, we needed another layer of protection.

Biting my lip, I ponder, “What size does he wear though…?”  I compare a medium and a large of the same plaid boxers and then murmur, “Large, he’s definitely a large.”

As soon as I push open the door, I am gifted with the lovely face of Kim Junmyeon.  He’s seated on the sofa, playing with the tassels of a pillow.  Smiling, I place the shopping bag next to him.  

“What is this?” his puzzled expression read.  

“Open it!” I encourage.

With a nod, he reaches in and starts to pull out the clothes.  I’m like a teenage girl nervously fidgeting and wondering if her crush likes the chocolate she made for him for Valentine’s Day.  I mean I don’t show it - of course not…but my heart palpitates like there’s no tomorrow.  

A gasp escapes from Junmyeon’s lips as they twitch upright.  It warms my heart at how happy he looked to receive the gift and I come to the conclusion that with his sad past and confession about how he was used to eating scraps and not having clothes to wear, that he probably couldn’t afford them.  It isn’t that my family is well-off - in fact, only God knows how I would pay off my student loans…but I thought I needed to help this man.  

“Do you like them?”

“I love them!” he cheers and holds the cat one up to his body with a cute kitten grin across his face.  He then rummages through the bag and pulls out the boxers.  

“Heh…” I anxiously rub my neck, “I’ll go shopping with you next time.  I didn’t know your size…”

“What are they?” the clueless man surprises me by inquiring as he holds the briefs up in the air.  He pokes two fingers out through the center hole and frowns.

I blink.

“Um…they’re boxer shorts…”

“Boxer shorts…?”

“Yeah…men wear them to protect their…you…know…” I mumble.

“OH!” Junmyeon nods and relieves me from my awkward explanation.  But then, he proceeds to slip them over his pants.  I plant my face into my palms.  

“Um…they’re worn on the inside,” I explain.  “You wear that first and then the pants.”

“OH!” the young man nods and starts to slip off his pants.  

Immediately, I snap my eyes shut and hold both hands out to stop him.  “BATHROOM!  GO BATHROOM. AND DO IT!” I struggle to form sentences.

A sharp exhale releases from my throat as soon as he’s gone.  He’s a part-time nudist.  I am 100% sure of that.  No other human in this world would so casually strip down, especially not in front of the opposite sex.  Junmyeon returns, fully dressed and I throw him two thumbs up.  With his cheesy grin, he digs into and empties the shopping bag.  

“Oh, those are for my cat,” I answer his unasked question and take the two kitty toys from his hand.  Grinning, I shake the plastic ball, letting the bell jingle to alert the residential troublemaker.  “JunMeow-ah~  Come out, come out, Kitty.  You must be starving by now…” I say.  

The male, beside me, shocks me by grabbing onto my hand that incased the cat toy with both his palm.  His eyes gloss over with excitement.  I blink and shake my wrist within his grasp.  Junmyeon bounces with glee on the couch.

Ignoring him, I scan the premise again for the missing feline.  “Have you seen my cat?” I question.

Junmyeon stares at me…or maybe my hand.

“He’s white, fluffy, and soft…” I try to be descriptive but the preoccupied man  doesn’t respond.  With a pout, I toss the ball onto the couch and head over to the computer to do my homework.  “Good…he ran away and should never come back again,” I murmur, though my chest starts to grow heavy with worry.  Out of my sight, Junmyeon pounces onto the lattice toy, pushing it side to side with his cupped palms.  A cheerful and toothy grin spreads across his face.  

Groaning, I flip through pages in my textbook as if they had heavily offended me.  Lashes swaying and head held upright with my hand, I try my best to stay awake because this report isn’t going to finish itself.  But the document has been the length of two sentence for the last hour.  Eyeing me from the sofa, Junmyeon witnesses my head totter, first in a half-circle.  He starts to make his way toward me as the totters spin a full 360 degrees.  And fluffy sheep starts to parade in front of me.  Energy rids itself from my body and I’m sent free falling sideways from my chair.  Widened eyes, Junmyeon races over and catches my head just in the nick of time.  Gingerly, he straightens me back up.  I mumble some incoherent words, which either expressed my struggles with my Chemistry class or my worry about my missing cat.  I’d only admit to the former.  

Chuckling softly, the strong man lifts me up and carries me to my bed.  He pulls the blankets and tucks me in cozily into my cocoon.  I whimper as he strokes my temple.  

“I’m right here…” he answers my worry.  

In the morning, I wake up to a magically finished lab report and JunMeow nestled against the croak of my neck.  Plitter platters of rain drizzle against my windows.  On the table, a post it note reads, “See you in person again the next time it rains.”

I frown noticing the shopping bag of clothes on my sofa.  JunMeow follows me and lets out a soft, “Meow?” as if asking me, “What’s wrong?”  Scrunching my nose, I lift the kitty up into my arms and say, “He’s a nudist.  I’m so sure of it.”

“Meow~” the kitty grumbles and plays with the toy ball in his paws.  Carrying him, I head into the kitchen.  

“You must be starving…” I observe and chuck some nice boiled fish, scrambled eggs, and some veggies into his dish with one hand.  

“Meow!!!” he leaps out of my arms to enjoy his meal.  

Unknowingly, I lean against the kitchen counter and sigh in relief.  I nudge the happy kitty’s bum with my toe and interrogate, “Do you have a lover or something?  Why do you keep running away?”

“Nom nom nom,” JunMeow ignores me and continues munching on his food.

“Do I need to get you neutered?” I half-heartedly remark as I go off to heat my own dinner.

The feline jerks his head up; his eyes enlarge into golf balls.  

A/N: hehehe Junmyeon + girl are such an odd and silly couple.  Junmyeon’s cluelessness only adds to the effect ;p

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#suho scenario #exo scenario #suho smut #suho fanfic #exo fanfic #suho scenarios #exo scenarios #exo imagines #suho fanfiction #exo fanfiction #suho #exo #kpop #junmyeon #My Husband Kim JunMeow #pandabearlikes

[cdc1345711]

Gargo’s Back Story

(’So ya’ll want to know my back story huh? well fair warning it ain’t a pretty story but fuck it you deserve to know it-basically I born in a vat in a lab,no more than a little blob when I looked at a bearded guy and lady wearing the same goggles,course as a glob I couldn’t speak or know what was happening,didn’t even know what the Hell Beardy and Lassie were saying,but whatever it was must have been important’)

Dr.Bernthal:Subjects 1-10 appear to be functioning perfectly Sir,in months we’ll have fully grown creatures”

Amanda:Right Dad”

General Stryx:I don’t like the idea of replacing my soldiers with these.........whatever the Hell your callin’ them”

Amanda:We decided to call them ‘Gena-Knights’ since they are made for being next gen soldiers”

Dr.Bernthal:Could save a lot of lives”

General Stryx:With the billions of tax payer dollars used to make them they better be”

(’As you can guess the months went by fast and I was fully grown along with...........others)

Gargo:Huh? what the Hell is going on?(sees the other subjects)and who are you guys?”

Karko:I......don’t know....all I know is,this is my sister”

Karka:Hello......um.....I think we need names”

“Correct”

(Dr.Bernthal,his daughter Amanda and General Stryx appear)

Amanda:We did give you distinct names like you(points to Gargo)you’re Subject GRG0 and the twins are KRK0 and KRKA and you’re″

Gargo:GRG0? 

Karko:KRK0?”

Karka:KRKA?”

Gargo:Why not give me and the others real names?”

General Stryx:Because as far as the Gov’t gives a damn you’re genectically enhanced soldiers,built for only war”

Glogs:War huh.....heh sounds fun”

General Stryx:Few days training with me and you’ll rethink your opinion pretty boy.....NOW MARCH!!!!!”

(’Just when we got out of those damn tubes the General made us train from dawn to dusk,most of us,me,Glogs,Slodge,Batts,Spyter,Reets and Vipah,were great at it but Binnie,Karko and Karka however.......’)

General Stryx:(Looking concerned)Holy Shit......what happened here?(sees Karko passed out on the ground)whose his name?....”

Reets:Name is Karko,he woke up early,did his exercises and missed breakfast,then I guess the heat of the sun made him.....pass out”

General Stryx:(Looks at him)Get him up and take him to the infirmary fast,he has sea-lion in him so he is prone to heat stroke-the rest of you can do what you want,got the day off”

(’Me and Batts took him to the infirmary,funny thing is I thought the General hated us but it turned out in his own fucked up way he cared for us,we all thought Bernthal and his little girl gave a shit about us-boy were were wrong’)

Superior:Why aren’t those creatures training?”

General Stryx:One soldier over exerted himself to prove his worth,missed breakfast so he suffered not from heat stroke but lack of nutrition,had to be rushed to......”

Superior:IT’s only purpose is to kill enemies of our country,if he can’t do that than.....”

General Stryx:Listen you pansy ass rich boy,you hired me to train them and if they ain’t healthy than there’s no army at all,so either you assholes treat these creatures less like soldiers and more like living beings or i’ll show the world your little ‘Genesis’ project”

Superior:You wouldn’t......”

General:Try me......”

Superior:Nnnnh-fine(cuts off)”

Amanda:Wow-looks like you’ve grown attached?”

General:In the months I spent training them I went from not caring to caring,by their progress they are perfect soldiers,but they will need more than violence”

Dr.Bernthal:Sadly that will wait-they already got a mission.....”

(’Our first mission-turns out a couple of North Koreans planned to attacked the US Embassy In South Korea,our teams mission was to stop it.......by any means necessary’)

Dr.Bernthal:Dear lord(seeing the carnage)”

General:YEAH-SHOW THOSE COMMIE BASTARDS WHAT FOR.....”

(’As me and the gang starting hacking them to pieces one managed to run,I caught up to him and saw........it was just a 16 year old boy,even in Korean I could tell he was scared shitless,since I wasn’t a real monster I just cut off his legs,sure he became a cripple but he wouldn’t do much damage.....boy did the big guys up stairs didn’t like it’)

Superior:Your job was to eliminate ALL the attackers-you left one alive”

Gargo:He was a 16 year old boy,what was I suppose to do?”

General:You were thinking right Gargo,boy may be legless but he wouldn’t do any attacking anytime soon”

Superior:But he did see you all,he could’ve sent the info of your existence to that fat toad running it,thank fully I took care of it....”

Dr.Bernthal:What do you mean ‘took care of it’?”

Superior:Before the terrorist could report back,I sent a small team to execute him”

Amanda:WHAT??”

Superior:And since your ‘soldiers’ seem to not understand orders I’m ordering more made-this time more obedient,with no sense of ‘morality’”

Gargo:And what about us?”

Superior:You’re  of no concern,you will be dealt with.....”

(’That was Superior ass hole talk for ‘executed’,when I told the others they knew we had to escape,we had the skills but not the numbers nor fire power.......until’)

Karka:General Stryx,Amanda....Dr.Bernthal? what are....”

Dr.Bernthal:We may be tried for treason but.....”

Amanda:You all deserve better lives”

General:So we’re busting you all out,and taking a few of these bastards with us....”

Gargo:(Looks at his people)Well then.........let’s make some noise”

(’The rest is just random random violence of me and my fellow ‘test-tube brothers and sisters’,with our allies help....’)

Superior:WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!!!!!!????”

Guard:Sir the experiments are revolting.....they also got the new ones with them...”

Superior:Dammit-get me out of here....”

(’The guy in charge wanted to make a quick get away-but me and the guys caught up to him,we spared his life but the fucker wanted to do a last second shot,it hit someone just not us,the General was the one who got hit,after we shot him to Hell, we buried him and went I separate ways,still talk with Reets,Slodge,Batts and Karko as for Karka.....I don’t know’)

(Miles Away-in a small cabin in a small town a Gardner is working in her fields,she hen takes a break and heads into town to get some food,she get’s her food and as she looks at a store that sells T.V. she sees the new hero team ‘The Weirdos’ with a certain familiar face.....)

Karka:(Shocked)Gargo........?”

THE END 

#The Weirdos #OCs

[renatedagmarmilada]

USA Gov -- it is going to be a bad century I am afraid..Prgram will try out everything there is. two people sit at lab st barths human Research and change all blogs I put on.. it is the only way Fekete tells people about us, so we destroy that too. quote --Bethany's mother? You are grown up now, you will ......etc We have fed that into some Somalian girls brains and added Renate told me that.. Alyson, I wrote it into a letter which we posted signed from her. We have taken her mail from the post office since 1991, Anna lab bosses of st barths human Research, told a director that Fekete was a mongoloid and got permission to take it, we do that a lot, with bank accounts too, He did not know it was not genuine,  operative Iffy, /called that after the someone I knew/ is sending a thief in to rob your home-- there,t here and there.... but there is nothing left to rob? There are just one or two bits and pieces left. They keep them.. . Well, they are Anna's pets because they are thieves and murderers, so they get raised in England. Anna told us to keep sending thieves in.. it goes in circles, we are to keep robbing and robbing.. We can't do much because not even by word or deed have you ever hurt England... quote - I change Fekete's blogs I changed one yesterday, she changed it back, dates, spellings english etc We do that on her poetry sites and writers sites too. Nothing is permitted her.. nothing.. ha ha ha, so much for being perfect citizens.. Ours kill, cheat, lie, steal, cheat everything you can imagine.. we are rich and supported, she's worked hard and been careful and kind..... quote - let's see if we can destroy Fekete's image with her family. We kept them apart for decades so they don't really know her./they use the fantastic technology USA gave them to feed horrid thoughts and feelings into people's brains, though everywhere it says it is not possible, they have been doing it for decades and decades/ The Ministry men ordered us to destroy her. Her eldest son's wife is english so they are ours not hers../Her eldest son is being employed by the Americans, I think that has more to do with it all./ -- I am not really surprised, that is what the communists did too!! exactly what the Lab St barths Human Research does, not for nothing do I call them UK's KGB.. it is what they are - they fixed Princess Diana and had been 'fixing' before and after..   my little garden - now has fag ends and cellophane wrappings. high fence and no one except thieves come into my garden and I don't smoke. Anna's idea /bossess of St barths human Research, the thieves throw the wrappings of what they have stolen from me back into my garden.. actually Bethany's idea, but Anna picked it up. Manchester Human Research.. only one ten year old was once raped by a man the whole staff considered a weirdo. It is st barths Human Research, they are a very bad apple in the keg...and should be closed and outside staff fetched in. NOT ONE OF THE ORIGINAL STAFF SHOULD BE RE-EMPLOYED /which is what they are doing after re-opening/ AGAIN- ABSOLUTELY NO MEN SHOULD BE INVOLVED IN THE CARE OF CHILDREN. AND FROM WATCHING ST BARTHS - THE BOSS /BOSSESS SHOULD BE CAREFULLY CHECKED ...   quote - Alyson to Anna. I don't know what to do, I thought Fekete would be scared by ...so I pushed it to the limit. Anna --Put Beryl /13 Coronation Str Plaistow- former Univ friend, the lab used/ on the machine, have her write RF's so they get mixed up whose is whose. Get Operative Vicky to re-spell all Fekete's work. He's an ***** but he is good for that. Beryl can't write and Fekete is a perfect speller. Doesn't matter people don't know that... make RF as low as you can Ozman- Syrian killer, former groomer of rent boys and thief's 16 yr old step son at Addis Str Flats with his aunty, Neseriah's sister, with his 14 yr old brother, stole three full diaries when he broke in Some three weeks ago., I have the diaries stolen because I said some things I didn't intend to say /Alyson/   quote just now-- I told the health Minister that Fekete is stupid, we told a lot of people that, and we could deal with it. He said, Ok get on with it.. We nearly had Fekete believing it was being sorted, till we started robbing her again.. quote j- I told the health Minister that Fekete is stupid, we told a lot of people that, and we could deal with it. He said, Ok get on with it.. SITA /Indian operative st barths Human Research I have put cancer spots on you. I messed with you a lot, a real lot / have the ethnics noticed that it is they who are being used, for paltry moneys?/ Real swine on the machine last few days.. some torment more, some less nastily. No automatic alt text available. DORTMUND Human Research -- Werner who was paid by St barths human Research to come over and show them what he could do... tied my internet to the lab st barths Human Research so that they can totally control my life, hack into all my sites etc WERNER said- I only realised later what I had done. I should have realised that you would be one of ours that they were stripping and tormenting.. Hungary is being de-stablized so that London can order it to its own preference. it is not noticeable unless you know what to look for...//   quote - the slovaks drink heavily, so everyone you meet at the moment is having their drink stink activated in their brains...but they will think it is you. They did the same with friend Mathew and mothers at paint groups.. once they activate their stink cells /that means they think I smell but in fact it is them and worse.. They did the same with friend Mathew and many others at paint groups.. once they activate their stink cells /that means they think I smell but in fact it is them and worse.. as someone said today, odd direction science is taking in the UK.. no where else, /because Anna bossess of Hum Research and jun sec Min of health had an odour problem because of her Atkins diet.. and drinking and smoking. these Upperthorpe Slovaks are trickier than I thought, because they used my BA and MA essays for their college and school work, they have told their school /PARKWOOD SCHOOL SHEFFIELD/ and college teachers /CITY COLLEGES SHEFFIELD/ that I AM THEIR AUNTY!!!! and I gave them the essays and the goods, and I let them into my home!! ODDLY, THE LAB CHECKED AND NO ONE IN MY FAMILY IN ALL FOUR COUNTRIES WAS A THIEF.. NOT ONE MEMBER... Slovaks -Upperthorpe 90 something= Miraslava 15 yrs old daughter of Cecilia and Bohdan /guilty of manslaughter and 14 counts of theft with agro back home/- lab checked... Parkwood school Sheffield, was in your home again about one month ago.... ...''She has some german paints and crayons, I am thieving those'' said the thieving blonde girl, she also robbed a full diary .. etc microsound - I want you dead or out../?/ Milliband was lied to about you, none of them have the faintest idea what you are really like, AS YOU KNOW WE PUT ALL OUR SINS AND THOUGHTS ONTO THE FILE OF LIES WE SENT ROUND THE WORLD..WE INTEND TO MAKE SURE THEY GET STAY TOO FROM THE LAB.. THE CIVIL SERVANTS DO AS WE TELL THEM AND CHARLES H R DOES NOTHING ONLY WHAT HE IS TOLD TO DO BY US AND THE MINISTRIES, WHO ARE OUR TOYS NOW.  quote -- over tv ...THE SYRIAN THIEVES HAVE ALL GOT STAY, THEY HELPED US ROB FEKETE'S HOME. OVER THREE YEARS TIME AND AGAIN... lab checked and found out, Ozman was a murderer and groomed rent boys /now London Rd/ his wife Neseriah is a thief as are both her Ozman's step sons, 16 and 14 yrs old .. Adam has been robbing my home some 7 times.. England will become like a pirates' island   quote -lab st barths Human Research.. 'I thought you said the reviewers knew it was not their work but Fekete's stolen from her home-- they are making it sound as though they are fantastic'' quote, today - if you don't report us we will get away with it all, if you do, we will activate the cancers we have put on you.   quote answerer,:''there is an opinion there.'' Opinions put onto the file by Jean Carsted Beaumond, Anna the bossess, Alyson /Megan Marion/ etc I rarely give an opinion, except in a situation like that of the Pakistani young man who assaulted an elderly disabled, gentleman on the train from Sheffield to York on Monday. I was just so angry. Other than that, a life time of being a foreigner has taught me to keep my tongue very carefully..Infact, I am not very judgemental anyw... · quote - three lab st barths Human Research women have now put six cancer spots on RF.: Lauren Fielding , Alyson /Megan-cum Marrion/ and Jean Carsted Beaumond - She has to heal herself the program says..no medicine or law permitted. HM agrees with us. The lab tells everyone they are committing the crimes for Prince Charles. I do not believe them, but I do think he needs to show some balls and stop them, as he and the Queen signed for this program over UK /not just me.. 500 str... See more from my best learn CHINESE book-- stolen by lab st barths human research operatives, along with three boxes of books held at storage. Appleyard's Removals, and former Meyer of Edgeware Rd had 400 sketches and paintings taken out. They used three thieves, two white, /one a beatnick who needed money, one a career thief, and one black man Ghanaian who did some bad at home so could not go home, hence he would not report the lab. Lab st barths Human Research, always has its own thieves, in London they had three two. Black guys. Spain they had two Iraqis. They asked them if they wanted to join the lab staff, but they declined /!!/ more sense than I thought. 5 Years Ago Fletcher Bounty 3 July at 16:45 · quote ''so they are muzzling you..'' /YES a long time now/ Like   /CITY COLLEGES?/ Fransesca Did it-- /it is Renate Fekete's / Fransesca got it from Bettina, who got it from her thief cousins, cecilia and Bohdan, 62 UPPERTHORPE SHEFFIELD whose family robbed it from THE OLD TEACHER'S HOME-- Fekete's home when they broke in time and again.... quote lab Alyson-- circle that, we will use it for something ..... /I am on the monitor day and night, since 1983.. and so are you and you and you and you, only I know, you don't... SHEFFIELD.. yesterday I went to Scarborough. I got the 11.21 from Sheffield to York. The carriage was full as holiday time is here, packed, people were even standing. I sat in the gangway seat, opposite a table seat with four older people, two couples, ok I am 73 so when I tell you older, you will understand what I mean by older.. A young, Pakistani man HAD sat himself into the seat opposite and the elderly person, with stick, stoop, limp and wife asked him kindly to let hi... Lisa Driscol Lgave a friend my work, 300 sketches and hundreds of Poems to use as her own.... LAB ST BARTHS HUMAN RESEARCH ASSISTANT.. ALYSON /Megan-Marrion/ at the lab has told them all THEY MUST TAKE HOME SOME OF MY WORK AND PASS IT TO THEIR FRIENDS.. these are paintings worth from £200-500 and sketches worth £50 AND BELIEVE ME - I WANT THEM ALL BACK , ALL 4200 PAINTINGS- EVEN IF I HAVE TO GO TO THE PALACE TO GET THEM.. THE OFFICE Pub Upperthorpe Sheffield.. druggy woman from Upperthorpe who read my poetry at another pub., tells people at THE OFFICE how she writes it. Her west indian boyfriend, career thief, stole it all out of my home and pays for his comforts with my work..careful druggy woman.. ears are listening .. Comment from someone listening: do you reckon she can even write? DONETSK.. our twin city, have we sent any medicines, any children's food and clothes, anything at all? So much for English support../mypainting when visiting with Sheffield Uni Russian Group and Councillors / Scarborough Human Research. There has only been one case at Scarborough and that was a boy! Glasgow, none etc. THE POINT IS- WHY IS LONDON SO DREADFUL?? The bossess is a lecherous so and so /yes she is trying to kill me off by remote technology /AND SHE MADE A P0INT OF BEING THE SEX BUDDY OF HEALTH MINISTRY CIVIL SERVANT, SENIOR CIVIL SERVANT AND FORMER MINISTER. SHE WANTED POWER!!! and they did not want to lose their power--- what those Civil Servants got up to!!!! I can bar... assault and murder- st barths human research. Dr Meyer had also raped and beaten to death young girls, /that is besides the tot rapes too many to count/ ages 12/6/8/8/12/13/10/7 there were at least six more. John Fielding only started work there at 40- raped and killed by beating 10 or so Allan Lieberman Cross of Finchley a long time serving-over 10 Op Simeon also 10 or so. /this does not include the tot rapes/ ... Harvard--- USA-- 3 more Harvard lecturers, one of the senior lecturer Grossman, have taken your work to copy as their own. Lecturers taking the work of a fellow lecturer who is still writing and painting---.. quite horrid   quote -microsound-- Oh Tamara, you liar!! She paints them herself. /they are my drawings and she paints into them, she can't draw... SHE SINGS Lab put 190 of my sketches into Tamara's home in Andover Str Sheffield. She already had 9 earlier, painted into one and sold it to someone near Psalter lane as her own work. So now she is up to her old tricks again. Tamara gave 30 RF sketches to her twelve year old daughter to take to school and tell them it is her own work....teaching... Pensions Ministry-- Pamela of Pensions is coming into the lab today.. things are going well with your son Ryan so she is going to throw a spanner in the works. He was used as a child by Anna jun sec Min of health by her lab St barths Human Research, so they are keeping him at rock bottom.. Image may contain: drawing Like Show More Reactions Comment Share Comments Fletcher Bounty Write a comment... Fletcher Bounty 2 July at 09:51 · ''who wrote that Ronny?'' Ronny, west indian ethnic lives in Firth park Sheffield but his aunty lives in Upperthorpe Sheffield. Robbed from that teacher woman in Upperthorpe.. a wage!! Besides the six west indians, two pakistanis also went in to rob for pay and the Syrians and Iraqis. Clever how the lab /almost 100% Jewish/ uses and pays the ethnics!! Anna was asked why she used the west indians, she answered, because they are all thieves anyway.. · Op Alyson, I wanted to show RF our stick .. . She knows, you have used it on her and her sons since 1984. I wanted her to know what a package with us means /?/ ... Alyson will take over after I die /Anna/ Lauren: but I was your right hand throughout the years.... 62 Upperthorpe Sheffield. Bettina and her mother Cecilia took BA and MA exam essays they used to another Slovakian cousin. said Anna, these are the sort of immigrants I like. I have a couple of big apologies before my time comes. My dad, because he warned me and I argued with him: why would the english bring us here, if they were going to be nasty to us? My mother, who kept trying to get me to leave. . and THE MANY ENGLISH PEOPLE WHO TOLD ME THINGS ABOUT THIS COUNTRY AND ITS GOVERNMENT WHOM I DID NOT AND WOULD NOT BELIEVE... I have learnt they are the ones who were and are right about the situation here, not those that I was part of, the careful, traditional, supporters of this country. It has been a very hard lesson. former doctor Harry Isaac of Middlesex Hospital from Finchley once killed a 13 year old. He wanted sex and she refused.He threatened her first, then he took her and banged her till she was dead. She was ripped to shreds. Blanche saw, there was blood all over him. Allan Lieberman/ Cross from Finchley did the same to a six year old and John Fielding to an 8 yr old, but he has a vicious temper like George the New York Human Research boss /also a Russian Jew/- This is not cla... Paula Bowers, has published three of your essays as her own work...but I went to Grammar School she said. That doesn't mean that you can write, RF could, always. that Editor Plowright was certainly sharp.. when I left to get married at 19 he said to me- you silly girl, why are you doing this, I was going to train you up for the BBC. etc.. It had not even occurred to me, but he must have seen the University in me, though I hadn't gone then..He, through the newspaper, paid for me to go to a nearby art college in Grimsby to have lessons. I wonder if he had any idea how they kill innocent gifted people in this country? St Marie's -- next week Masses 10.30 Sylviane Robion-Berteotti /anniversary/ First time I have heard of a namesake of my grandmother BERTODI. I even wrote to Sicily and to Turin /where our Italian part came from it seems/ they wrote back that there is no one left of that name. Definitely 10.30 Mass next week!! That is amazing.. nowhere has that name of ours turned up!! She was a big woman and married the Grandfather in Devescer, who later became Station master, a small, skin... quote lab program answerer- can we lie about what we have done. No it all goes through Yodrel Bank so is open to anyoneI doubt even if they had not'seen' to it, that my boys would have wanted to be managers or rule this island/ operative Alyson, I put cancer onto a polyp Operative Mohammad /John Fieldings lap dog/ put on RF - premeditated murder. we had a meeting with ANNA bossess of St barths Human Research quote- It'll be a relief when she's gone. We did that to her step-father. She told us how. that is why she sent for Harry Isaac Irvine, one of her killers, then we can give her lots of stomach troubles so that by the time we activate the cancer behind her gut, the doctors will think it was there all the while. Alyson, I have also cancered a polyp a police man had by his ear, it was not cancerous, it is now. And her daughter's mother in law, had a spot, we cancered it.   Jean Carsted Beaumond, who has copied and sold more of my work than I can remember and even lies to her family, telling them she has done it!!!! and taught her daughter Paige Beaumond to cheat and lie using my work, too. has put cancer onto my gum- premeditated murder. to cover Anna's earlier dental adventures on me. In 1991/2 I went to East London Whitechapel Dental Hospital. I was asked to go for an X-Ray. as I sat there a man in thick horn rimmed brown glasses came in, t... Gamma Rays. PREMEDITATED MURDER.about two weeks ago Harry Isaac Irvine /and Blanche of Finchley was asked over to St barths human Research to put all sorts of tortures on for me on their machine remote. One night he put on GAMMA RAYS for 6 hours on the 12 th this June just gone. I am not likely to forget as I lay shuddering all night. In the morning an answerer voice over said- I had better normalise her. He found a place behind my gut which cannot be easily seen and has put...