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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

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Ch. 3

18+ MINORS DNI

Pairing: Shigaraki x Dabi (just this part), Tomura Shigaraki x fem!reader (very brief and vague reference to Dabi x Hawks)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut and feels, it's literally just smut, blow jobs, friends(?) with benefits, blow jobs, anal fingering, light degradation (both for shigs and reader), could maybe be interpreted as slight dubcon, dirty talk, slutty dabi, dabi is an asshole, so is tomura, reader has gender neutral pronouns, I'm keeping it fem cause Shigs hates women and calls them that

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which the boys share in some good ole roommate bonding activities and Tomura has a blow job induced epiphany.

AO3 Mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg (shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged and make sure to check my rules!)

Dabi’s mouth was wet and so fucking warm as he swallowed around Tomura’s dick.

“Oh fuck…” he groaned as Dabi hummed around his length and did that thing where he flicked the ball of his tongue ring over Tomura’s slit.

Bright blue eyes stared up through deceptively long lashes, smirking at the way Tomura drooled as he got his soul sucked out the tip of dick. The mattress underneath him creaked despite the negligible weight of both their bodies. Dabi settled on his stomach between Tomura’s pale thighs leaving fingerprint bruises in soft flesh.

They did this sometimes, though he wasn’t quite sure when exactly it started. Dabi had been his randomly assigned roommate freshman year and he grew so used to living with him that the two of them had just silently, yet mutually agreed not to fuck something up that wasn’t broken. They both berated each other for their strange and somewhat disgusting habits—Dabi would say that Tomura was a gross shut-in creep who needed a fucking shower and Tomura called Dabi out on his slutty pastimes and obsession with piercing the hell out of every available inch of skin.

And sometimes they sucked each other off.

It was overall not a terrible arrangement—Dabi got his fill of dick and Tomura could no longer be made fun of for being completely inexperienced. Plus, as much as he was loathe to admit, Dabi was really fucking good at oral. Like, demonically good. He’d been going down on Tomura for so long now too that he’d learned all the things that had him spilling onto that pierced tongue in minutes.

Tomura jerked from his thoughts when two, lube slicked fingers prodding at his ass.

“Dabi, what the fuck are you—” he protested, wiggling his scrawny hips up the bed and inadvertently letting his cock slip out of the inviting heat between his roommate’s lips.

He couldn’t see much other than the shaking mop of black hair and pale hands with chipped black nail polish digging into his legs, yanking him back.

“Shut up freak,” Dabi slurred, words slick with spit and Tomura’s precum. Dabi said it tasted like battery acid, but it never stopped him from guzzling it like he did with cheap whiskey and cigarettes on the weekends. “I know you like it.”

He did like it, but Tomura wasn’t about to contribute to the fucking evil grin Dabi was giving him as he circled the tight ring of muscle, slipping in a finger to the first knuckle.

Tomura’s head flopped back on the pillows as he bit back a low moan, “Fuck off.”

“If you say so,” Dabi shoved his finger in roughly, squeezing a second in behind it and letting Tomura bask in the burn of being stretched too quickly before ripping his hands away.

“No!” Tomura wailed pretty fucking shamelessly and grabbed the retreating wrist, placing Dabi’s tatted hand back on his dick that throbbed and leaked painfully.

“Dude, what’s gotten the fuck into you?” his roommate asked, smirking still, but pumping Tomura's cock loosely nonetheless. “Our walls are thin as hell, you know I can hear you jerkin' it in here every night, and now you’re practically begging for me to suck you off. Usually I gotta come to you.”

He was infuriatingly right again.

Tomura had indeed asked for him to do this, which was definitely out of character for him. Most of the time when they ended up in this position, it was because Dabi spent hours hounding him about it or just fucking dropped to his knees and whipped Tomura’s cock out in the middle of a movie night or snuck into his room while Tomura was gaming and swallowed him whole just to laugh at the way his online friends reacted to the noises.

He’s just been so pent up lately, and you insisting on fucking touching his arm or sitting on the floor between his feet at League meetings was really not helping it.

“I don’t know,” Tomura lied, both to Dabi and himself in the hopes that the head of black hair would just go back to bobbing on his dick like he so desperately needed it to.

“Bro, I have fucked with enough people to know when they’re wishing I was someone else,” Dabi scoffed and ran a blessedly hot tongue from base to tip and suckled softly at the blush pink head before pulling back with a wet pop. “So who is it?”

“I’m not fucking thinking about anyone,” Tomura hissed, fisting Dabi’s spiky, black locks and thrusting into his mouth till he felt the contractions of Dabi gagging around his length. “Usually you're jumping at the chance to get dick in your mouth, so why does it matter?”

Dabi pulled back, wiping the silvery string of spit leaking past his lips away and scowling as his fingers ghosted over Tomura’s balls and sank back into his pliant ass.

“Seriously creep, I’m five seconds away from ghosting and you can fuck your hand like the sad little bitch you are. So tell me their name or I’m walking right now.”

Tomura huffed as he felt Dabi’s long, rough fingers pulled from him again and the heat of his mouth growing farther away.

“Ugh fine, it’s that bitch I’ve been working on the English thing with.”

Dabi made a face like his brain was buffering.

“Seriously?” he asked, mouth gaping in a way that had Tomura even more furious his dick wasn’t buried in it.

“Yes!” he shouted and grabbed Dabi’s cheeks in both hands, sinking past his waiting lips and practically purring when he felt them close around the base as his long tongue massaged the shaft. “Oh god yes…”

Dabi rolled his eyes, managing to look smug even with a cock stretching his lips taught against the piercings. He used to try and tease Tomura about how small his dick was, but it was hard to believe him. Especially with how he choked sometimes when Tomura got rough with him despite his boasts of lacking a gag reflex. Not to mention how he looked now, jaw probably aching with the stretch and loving every second of it.

Tomura lazily bucked his hips up and whined high when the fingers in his ass curled and thrust against that fucking spot he hadn’t known was there until Dabi found it for him.

The pleased sound he made tapered off into a growl though, when his roommate with questionable benefits pulled off again to run his slutty fucking mouth.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled, kitten licking at Tomura’s cock and running the ball of his piercing through the slit again. Tomura gulped when he pulled it back into his mouth to swallow the bead of precum he’d collected. “I’ve seen your fucking paramour around before, pretty serious about school though. And kinda out of your league too, not gonna lie. So, what would you do if your cute little partner was here instead?”

Tomura bristled at the insult but couldn’t keep his pissed off look when Dabi went back to sucking his cock like a pro and curling those fucking fingers against his prostate. When he did speak, he blushed hard at the way his voice cracked and sounded like he was crying.

“I don’t fucking—holy shit—know,” he gasped and Dabi hummed both to egg him on and to get a whole new wave of precum gushing out of Tomura’s dick.

“C’mon man,” Dabi groaned, and Tomura distinctly heard the sound of a pants zipper and felt Dabi’s hips canting against the sheets.

That fucking masochistic whore. He would get off to Tomura dirty talking about someone else while he sucked his dick.

He considered stopping the whole thing right there, but then Dabi was sinking a third finger into his ass and thrusting hard while he hallowed his cheeks around Tomura’s cock and sucked—

“Tits!” Tomura cried and covered his burning, red cheeks with his hands. “I want to put my fucking face in them and taste them in my mouth. Sometimes I can see the outline of their nipples when we’re working and the air conditioning comes on and I want to suck on them so fucking bad I can’t think about anything else the whole night.”

Once he got started, Tomura found the words just spilled from him like a dam had burst. Dabi, the depraved bastard, groaned loud and ground his pierced dick harder against the mattress as he continued to deepthroat Tomura’s cock and fuck his ass at that perfect angle.

“Sometimes when they drag me to their stupid club I lose the rounds cause I—oh god, oh fuck—just imagine them in my lap, sitting on my cock and fucking writhing and squeezing me while we face off. Such a fucking—Dabi more!—stereotypical try-hard, bitch but I want to be inside them so fucking bad,” he felt actual tears stinging the raw corners of his eyes when Dabi sped up on his dick.

Tomura scrapped his nails against Dabi’s scalp, holding on for dear life as his breathing became even more ragged than usual. His friend’s cruelty streak reared its ugly head as Dabi sensed the tensing of Tomura’s balls and the clench of his tight ass and slowed down a fraction, keeping him teetering on the edge of an explosively pleasurable release.

“Fucking asshole,” he growled, but didn’t dare try to fuck Dabi’s face lest he make good on his threat to leave Tomura high and dry. “I just—shit, ah, don’t stop—they talk to me sometimes and I just wanna suck their tongue into my mouth so they shut up and I need to hear them fucking falling apart or using that stupid, stuck up teacher voice on me and fucking my ass—Dabi Fuck—is that what you wanted to hear?”

Dabi, because he got off on being a little shit, gave him one last delicious swallow before pulling back and fisting Tomura’s sopping wet cock. The fingers had stopped thrusting and were now pressed hard against his prostate, sending shocks through his body and making him twitch violently as his blood rushed with endorphins. He never stopped grinding his own dick against Tomura’s cotton sheets the whole time.

“You got it bad huh, don’t ya creep,” he mused, letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips and keep his palm slick. “That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about fucking anything, much less another actual person.”

“No I fucking don’t, “ Tomura writhed against the pillows, giving in to the undeniable urge to simultaneously fuck up into Dabi’s hand and ride his fingers.

“Who knew you were such a desperate whore, falling for the first person to show you a modicum of attention,” Dabi jeered and squeezed the tip of his dick hard, listening to Tomura let out a choked sob. “I’m actually kinda proud of you, bro. My little incel baby’s growing up.”

Dabi cooed at Tomura, sinking sharp teeth deep into the meat of his thigh and sucking a bruise into the flesh.

“You’re the one—nghh—getting off on it,” Tomura clapped back but didn’t bother denying it again.

There was a sense of dread growing in his gut alongside the mounting pleasure of his orgasm that Dabi was currently holding hostage. Dabi may have had a dickish personality just as massive as the actual dick that was currently painting his comforter in stains, but he knew Tomura.

And he did, admittedly have much more experience with these types of things.

“Fuck yeah I am,” Dabi grunted. “Last time I let you return the favor you bit my fucking cock. I gotta get off somehow.”

“Don’t say rude shit to me and I won’t bite you.”

“Watch it, Tomura,” Dabi huffed and nipped at his thigh again. “You should be thanking me for my services.”

“Not if you’re gonna keep running your mouth instead of sucking me off,” he tried to sound intimidating but he was well and truly wrecked and couldn’t find the energy to give his words an edge.

“You should ask them out,” Dabi continued, ignoring the failed attempts at banter. “Bring ‘em over or some shit. Maybe then if I lock down that blonde piece of ass I’ve been talking to, we’ll both have much more interesting things to go down on.”

“Your whore ass is the one always jumping me, don’t act like it’s a fucking chore,” Tomura groaned as Dabi started licking at his cock again, pressing sloppy, half kisses on the tip as he jerked it in his fist.

“Not my fault I get bored sometimes,” he replied and closed his eyes as Tomura clenched particularly hard around Dabi’s relentless fingers. “But seriously, you should go for it. I’d kill to find out if you’re just as bad at eating pussy as you are sucking dick.”

“Fuck y—” Tomura started to say when Dabi reared up till they were chest to chest and their foreheads knocked together.

“I fucking will if you don’t shut up, creep, and I think it’d be so much better if you handed your fucking virginity to that pretty little partner bitch instead,” he said and stunned Tomura into silence when he licked into his mouth.

Dabi had kissed him before, but Tomura could count the number of occasions on one hand and almost all had been when his punk ass roommate was drunk as hell and in his feels about some tortured past. But Dabi’s eyes were bright and lucid now, blinking down at Tomura as he dragged their tongues together, flooding his mouth with the faint taste of cigarettes and jizz.

Their cocks brushed together too, the stimulation making Tomura whine into Dabi’s lips, who dropped a merciful hand down, taking them both in his fist and began pumping.

He didn’t stop as he pulled back, grinning down at Tomura like a fucking maniac—all shitty tattoos and silver piercings. The little barbels that stuck through Dabi’s nipples brushed against his own and made him moan at the cool metal and hot skin on his sensitive chest. Tomura was fucking sensitive everywhere, as Dabi had helped him discover, probably from a lifetime of being touched more by cheap sweatshirts than human hands.

“Now,” Dabi grunted as he thrust loosely against Tomura’s cock and his own fist before pulling away to settle back between his legs. “Shut up and cum down my throat—gotta give your virgin ass a refresher on mind shattering orgasms, so you know if that bitch is any good or not.”

Tomura’s tongue was halfway around a witty comeback when Dabi swallowed him to the hilt once again and started working his ass even harder. He really fucked hoped the neighbors were not home to hear him get his shit rocked at 2pm on a fucking Tuesday, cause Dabi might have been flunking out of his classes but he’d get a goddamn A plus for sucking dick.

The hand on his thigh, spreading him open, migrated to his hip so that Tomura could snap his legs shut hard around Dabi’s ring littered ears as he guided Tomura to grind down on his hand. The pressure in his gut built up exponentially higher now that Dabi wasn’t trying to hold him on the edge of climax. It took an embarrassingly short amount of time for him to acquiesce to Dabi’s request, as he tightened up in a full body clench before gripping Dabi’s hair and spilling rope after rope of hot, sticky release straight onto his roommate’s tongue.

Dabi, the fucking slut, made a show of swallowing every drop that spilled from Tomura’s abused cock, milking his prostate the whole time and only letting Tomura slip from his mouth when he was soft and finally spent.

The fingers in his ass remained though, still for the most part and slowly dipping in and out every so often. Tomura whimpered and clenched but was somewhat thankful for the remaining feeling of fullness.

“So, did you really mean all that?” Dabi asked with his signature smirk. “You really want your group project partner to cockwarm you and fuck your tight little ass?”

“Fuck off,” Tomura scowled and smacked Dabi hard across the face with an errant pillow.

Dabi yanked it from his grasp and tossed his ammunition onto the floor. “Hey, it’s not actually too bad in here,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis which elicited an embarrassingly high gasp from Tomura, “give ‘em my number if you need a reference for asshole tightness.”

“Get the fuck out of my ass and my room,” Tomura kicked at Dabi’s back as it shook with laughter that lacked it’s usual jeering bite.

“What? Saving the cuddles for your new S/O?” he shot back, nuzzling his cum and spit covered face into Tomura’s neck.

With their chests pressed together, Tomura could feel the cooling, sticky remnants of Dabi’s own release coating his stomach. He squirmed against the sensation and pushed at the offending chest until his friend flopped down onto the scant space left between the mattress and the wall.

“Ew,” Tomura ran a finger through the mess Dabi had left smeared on him. “I’m taking a fucking shower.”

“God, finally!” Dabi exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and producing a cigarette from god knows where. He let the paper rest between his lips unlit. “I should have thought about getting you fucked out on the reg earlier, creep, if it’ll stop you smelling like ass.”

Tomura launched the discarded pillow which hit it’s mark with a dull thump.

“You better be fucking gone when I get back,” he hissed and stumbled naked, on shaking legs into the hall and to their shared bathroom.

Dabi’s cackling followed him until the door shut and the lock clicked behind him.

Tomura turned the water on quickly, letting steam cloud the mirror before he jumped under the spray. The only products on the shelves were Dabi’s for the most part with the exception of a store brand bar of soap and some 3 in one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

Tomura knew he should clean himself more often, but his skin was so fucking raw all the time it hurt to do, so he mostly avoided it unless the smell got really unbearable—or Dabi was painting him in jizz whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He tried to get in and out as quickly as possible so he didn’t have the opportunity to think too hard about the admission his fuck buddy roommate had pulled from him mid blow job. Because if he did—in his post nut, clingy state—he’d most certainly imagine you were with him, tits pressed against his back and your soft, insistent tongue dipping past his lips, tasting like fruit gum and expensive cafe drinks instead of nicotine and cum.

And he really couldn’t handle that. Cause Dabi was right, he had something fucking bad for you and the thought of another rejection loomed large.

When he did towel himself off and shuffle, still naked back into his bedroom Dabi was nowhere to be seen. Tomura’s phone however, was left sitting right next to the jizz stain on his sheets. He frowned at the open balcony door where Dabi was no doubt smoking and snatched the device before tumbling onto the pillows.

He powered it on and scrolled through his notifs before one caught his eyes. You and Dabi were really the only people that ever texted him, but the contact name above this one had changed.

bitch (endearing)

— hey, starting an impromptu round of Smash soon if you’re interested <3

The stupid text heart made his chest throb and he stared at Dabi’s new nickname for you, not even noticing the fucking grin that tugged at his cheeks.

He bit his lip to stop the twitching when it pulled too hard at the chapped skin and scrambled for his clothes before shooting a quick confirmation text back. Tomura opted for his only pair of black jeans this time instead of sweats and the least stained sweatshirt he owned.

Dabi peaked around the corner when he heard the clink of Tomura’s keys. The bastard was smoking in just a pair of underwear that left half his ass on display for all the whole fucking street. He smirked, quirking his eyebrows and bringing his hands up to slip his index finger through the circle he made on the other hand in a silent, vulgar gesture.

“Screw off,” Tomura shouted over his shoulder and made for the door.

“Wrap it before you tap it, bro!” Dabi called after him, cut off by the subsequent slamming.

Tomura took the stairs two at a time, pulling out his phone and tucking the hood over his damp hair, this time to hide the growing smile playing at his lips.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x dabi #shigaraki x dabi #shigadabi #bee.writes

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j4gm · 4 years

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Obsidian lore thread!

Sharing this thread of lore, episode connections, and Easter eggs from Adventure Time: Distant Lands: Obsidian, originally written for my Twitter.

SPOILERS AHEAD, WATCH OBSIDIAN ON HBO MAX IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY

Keep reading for the full thread!

1) We've seen bombs scattered around the Land of Ooo before, but this is the first time we've seen the word "fission", confirming that they are nukes. Although we have seen the radiation roundel plenty of times so it's pretty obvious.

2) The "magic lightning" that created the Glass Kingdom could itself have been one of the nukes. Alternatively, it could have been the catalyst comet, although Finn has no connection to this place so that's probably not the case.

3) The subtitles for the first four minutes video suggested that Glassboy was saying "crap" here. However, the HBO Max subtitles confirm he is actually saying "crack".

4) All of Marceline's classic furniture is present, but Bubblegum's influence is very visible; a doily on the couch, a flask underneath, new barstools from the Candy Kingdom, and the pink lamp in the bedroom, just to name a few examples.

5) Lady Rainicorn slippers. That is all.

6) Chocoberry on the cover of a magazine. Looks like she's been dipped in white chocolate for this shoot.

7) This is the first time we've seen Choose Goose since he appeared as "Achoos Goose" in the Elements miniseries. Last time we saw his normal form was all the way back in season five's "Blade of Grass", nearly seven years ago. Is it weird that Choose Goose was the first thing in the episode to make me cry?

8) It appears that Princess Bubblegum has not rebuilt the Gumball Guardians since they were destroyed in the battle against GOLB.

9) There are lots of familiar candy people in and around the tavern, from a variety of seasons, including Kenneth, Dirt Beer Guy, Cherry Cream Soda, a Banana Guard 500, Lollipop Girl, and Smudge.

10) Simon is of course singing "Remember You". He is also using the omnichord that was used in that episode. Interestingly, this suggests he might remember some of his experiences as the Ice King.

11) This isn't the first time Dirt Beer Guy's tavern has hosted an open mic night. He also held one in "Son of Rap Bear", and even used the same banner, although it's looking a little tattered and worn out now.

12) Simon doesn't look any older than he did in the finale. This might mean that Betty's wish made him immortal, or it simply might not have been long enough for him to visibly age.

13) This is the oversized shirt given to Marceline by her father in the episode "Marcy & Hunson". It's looking a little faded these days.

14) Bubblegum's outfit is of a similar style to the one in "The Vault", but it's not the same. The fact she's not wearing her amulet might suggest this flashback takes place after "The Vault", but nothing is known for certain.

15) There are gravestones outside Marceline's house, but these actually aren’t new. They previously appeared in “Go With Me”. So don’t worry, these don’t belong to Jake or anything like that.

16) Simon's coping mechanism would be funny if it wasn't so sad. It's going to be a long time before he fully recovers. On a lighter note, the magnets on the fridge say "M PB" which is pretty cute.

17) This is our first time seeing the outside of Elise's van. We previously saw the interior in "Everything Stays". Also, we learned from the credits and subtitles that her name is Elise!

18) Previously, it wasn't known whether or not Elise survived the Mushroom War. Turns out she did... but not for long. It's also now unclear whether the flashback from "Everything Stays" happened before or after the war.

19) A nice little timeline detail: Marceline travelling with her mother for a while explains the awkward two year gap between the Mushroom War and the events of "Simon & Marcy".

20) Here's a comparison of the parts of Marceline's song that got corrupted into the current version. The Glass People got really obsessed with the idea of the song being about coconuts for some reason.

21) PB yelling "Scree!" to summon the Morrow is a callback all the way to the season two episode "Death in Bloom", which is when the Morrow made their debut.

22) Disease is added to the long list of things that helped wipe out humanity. I wonder if this disease is related to the one that Hugo and his crew gave to the grays in the BMO special. I also wonder if Marceline is immune thanks to her demon half.

23) The mutant puppy was able to say the word "wassup". Perhaps this is a halfway stage to the talking animals that now populate the Land of Ooo.

24) Turns out Marceline discovered her demon powers before she defeated the Fool. This is the first appearance of these kinds of soulless husks since "It Came From the Nightosphere" in season two.

25) This is the first new candy power we've seen Princess Bubblegum use since she learned how to create mints and soda in "Jelly Beans Have Power".

26) Marceline not caring about the glass people is very in line with her personality in the early seasons, such as when she was happy to let her father suck souls as long as she got her bass back.

27) No Easter egg here, just an extremely good image.

28) Here's the screenshot leaked by Adam Muto last month. Like the gas station in "Bonnibel Bubblegum", the graffiti here tells an interesting story. Seems like the Land of Ooo had a bit of a Mad Max phase while the humans were still around.

29) This is (as far as I know) only the second time an Adventure Time character has ever been shown bleeding. The first was the heart monster in "The Enchiridion", but that was a lot less realistic.

30) The fact that humans survived long enough to construct a whole Fallout-style bunker confirms that the near-extinction of humanity wasn't a quick process. It makes you wonder whether any other groups made it, besides the Islanders.

31) Apart from this being one of the darkest scenes in the entire show, I like the background detail of bank notes being used as toilet paper.

32) Marceline grew up blaming herself for her mother leaving, and says she is like her dad. It sounds like Elise has told Marceline a bit about Hunson Abadeer, and is scared and angry at him.

33) This actually isn't the first time Marceline's bass has been broken. She also snapped the handle during her fight with the Vampire King. However, it's never been completely shattered like this.

34) This might be a reference to the Hall of Egress. That's the only other time we've heard Bubblegum use that word.

35) Confirmation that Princess Bubblegum doesn't have bones. I guess that counts as lore?

36) The gag of the Banana Guards slipping over each other was also done in "The Thin Yellow Line" and probably some other episodes I'm forgetting.

37) Jake’s granddaughter Bronwyn is certainly an unexpected appearance. I wonder what affiliation she has with the main cast now?

38) And of course... FINN! I would estimate he's aged about five to ten years since the finale, but it's hard to tell with Adventure Time's style. He looks younger than he did in Puhoy's alternate future.

39) Lots of people have been theorising that the tattoo implies that something unfortunate has happened to Jake. Perhaps we'll get to know more about that in Together Again. Let's not dwell on it for now.

40) A canon origin story for the shirt, plus a Bubbline first meeting! This overrides the P.B. & Marcy comic, and re-contextualises a whole bunch of the old Bubbline episodes!

That’s all for now! Let me know if you can think of anything I missed!

#adventure time #obsidian #bubbline #lorepost

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mk-wizard · 3 years

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So Long, Garfield: A fanscript on how Garfield could end well

Hello, fans and fat cats. Here I am with another Garfield essay, but this one is different. It is not exploration, fan theory or character analysis, but a fanscript on how the iconic comic strip cat could end on a high note. Keep in mind that this fanscript also tries to uphold all the things that made Garfield great and brings the original concept as well as many original ideas full circle. The premise of Garfield was that we saw life through his eyes namely how he saw his owner Jon’s life at how socially awkward, pathetic and bad with women he was. The audience was also subtly led to believe that if Jon ever did finally find a woman namely his most often go-to-gal Garfield’s vet Liz who found him revolting, it would mean the end of Garfield. Yet when that happened, it still went on. I think the story should end now and here is a fan script that I put together on how Garfield could end in my opinion on a high note while honouring its legacy. It is divided into four parts which symbolize the four stages of a very drastic change in one’s life. Specifically, how everything around Garfield changes in an almost domino effect kind of way because Jon and Liz finally became a couple. Note that that four stages serve as four story arcs which make up what would make for Garfield’s very last volume in the book series.

1- Jon wants to marry Liz meaning she will move in and the household dynamic and lifestyle will change forever (resistance). - After becoming an official couple, Jon and Liz decide to move onto the next big step which is to get married. Before, when they were just dating, it made Garfield a bit jealous yet he could deal with it because at least everything else was the same in his life and he grew to like having Liz around as a visitor, but having her around full time means things will change the household dynamic forever. It turns out that adapting to having Liz live with them is going to take a lot changes and it means the way they act, live and do every day tasks will not be the same anymore. Initially, Garfield will react very bad to this because unlike Jon, he likes bachelorhood and isn’t ready to give it up, so he would probably do everything he could to foil Jon’s attempts to propose to Liz and even go as far as making Liz very uncomfortable in an effort to get her to dump Jon. However, Garfield’s stunts in fact backfire as Liz turns out to be very tolerant and patient with him as she is not only good with animals since she is a vet, but kind of see right through him so she sympathizes with him not wanting her to intrude. Also, despite all of Garfield’s efforts, Jon still somehow manages to propose to Liz and she says yes. When that happens, Garfield stops resisting and just resigns. Note that from here on end, the planning of Jon and Liz’s wedding is ongoing in the background.

2- Lyman finally finds his own place and job meaning he will move out, but so will Odie (denial). - This leads us to phase two which also brings up the forgotten yet still present idea that Lyman is Jon’s roommate and Odie is not actually Jon’s dog. After so many years, Lyman finally lands a great job and is able to move out, BUT if he goes, so will Odie. Obvious, neither Garfield or Odie are happy about this because they’re actually good friends. I would imagine that there would be tons upon tons of gags of trying to stop the move out from happening like the pets emptying out the luggage to trying to sneak Odie away so that he secretly stays in Jon and Garfield’s house, but of course, all of these attempts to keep the status quo would not only fail, they would make both Jon and Lyman very angry. I imagine the punchline in the end would be that it turns out that Lyman is only moving away into his own house a few blocks away which is just walking distance. Also, the serious side that keeping Odie isn’t just unrealistic, it’s mean because he’s all Lyman’s got. Of course, Jon and his own friend still be cool. It is also here we finally find out what Lyman does for a living; he is a photographer and he will be taking pictures for Jon and Liz’s wedding. And bittersweetly, while it turns out Garfield and Odie won’t be split up that far apart, them not living together is still a huge change to get used to as their absence in each other’s lives is felt.

3- Nermal comes to terms with leaving kittenhood and abandonment issues in his mind (depression). - At this phase, Garfield is sad and depressed, and things seem to get worse as Jon and Liz are going to the Arbuckle farm to celebrate their engagement. And fun long lost fact; Nermal is the kitten of Ma and Pa Arbuckle... but things have changed there too and so has Nermal. Mom and Dad have their own announcement which is that they are retiring and have decided to start traveling which means they are leaving the farm and the little guy in Doc Boy’s care. And while the parents are optimistic about this new phase in their lives, Doc Boy is facing some issues as Nermal is no longer a kitten. He is now a “teenager” meaning he is no longer cute and has taken up a rebellious as well as an unfriendly streak. He has become spiteful and does unkind things which as first annoys Garfield until he notices a familiar pattern and recalls he went through the same thing... when his previous owner, a pasta chef gave him to Jon. Despite all of his better judgement, Garfield gets Nermal to have a heart to heart talk, and Nermal admits that he is hurt that Mr. and Mrs. Arbuckle are leaving him behind. He thinks that they are abandoning him because he’s not a cute little kitten anymore. Of course, it turns out that the real reason they are leaving him with Doc Boy is out of love. Nermal has needs and requires stability that the Arbuckles cannot give him at their age, so they are leaving him with Doc Boy so he’ll be in good hands and have a good life. Garfield then finally comes to terms with his own abandonment issues and discovers that the pasta chef did the same thing. He didn’t give him to Jon to get rid of him because he was eating the lasagna all the time. Garfield getting older and hungrier was a sign that he was growing up and needed a good home, so the chef helped Garfield find an owner who could be there for him full time. Through this, for the first time ever, Garfield and Nermal finally find common ground and get to like each other. It turns out that underneath it all, Nermal is a lot like Garfield in how he likes to eat and secretly enjoys mischief. So much so that like how Garfield loves lasagna, Nermal adores country style apple pie. At the end of the engagement party and trip, both Garfield and Nermal’s spirits are lifted, and while Nermal has eased up a little, it is hinted that he has become Doc Boy’s “Garfield” which makes Garfield for the first time ever, finds Nermal cute for it.

4- Jon gets to know Liz’s parents and Garfield rethinks his own relationship with Arlene (acceptance). - Nearing the end of the wedding plans, Jon must now get to know Liz’s parents and become accepted by them. It turns out that Liz’s dad is an easy going guy who seems to have a lot in common with Jon while her mom is the stern one who seems to have a lot of Liz’s sarcastic and no nonsense demeanor. She is also a big time zoologist. Meanwhile, Garfield is taking in all of the changes that are going on around them and decides that maybe, change isn’t so bad after all. Namely, maybe it isn’t so bad to love someone other than yourself. This makes him think that instead of just being casual with Arlene yet keeping her at an arm’s length, he decides he wants to go steady with her and officially become boyfriend and girlfriend with her. In the midst of all of this, it turns out that despite how intimidating Liz’s mom has acted towards Jon, she actually always accepted him and thinks he is a good match for her daughter because they balance each other kind of like how her own quirky and socially awkward husband balances himself with her. More importantly, Jon makes Liz happier than any other man she has met before. Once that resolution is made and all of the wedding plans are made, Garfield at long last introduces Arlene to the family indicating that they are officially together. Of course, Jon and Liz being who they are, take an immediate liking to Arlene and agree to take her in meaning that she is also not part of the household too. At this point, the wedding plans are finally put into place which offers tons of hilarious antics namely the things that go wrong to the things that are over the top. Though at the end, the wedding finally happens and the final scene is of Jon and Liz becoming husband and wife while Garfield thanks the audience for coming this far with them and saying goodbye.

The End

Well, there you have it. This is my fanscript on how Garfield ought to end in the best way possible. What do you all think of it? I would love to hear what you all think. Do you think any of this will happen?

If you have a fan theory, character analysis or anything of a comic media you want me to make an essay for, let me know in my ask section. Also, please give this a like, give me a watch and support me either by Ko-fi or Patreon. Links are in my profile.

Thanks guys and as always, stay safe.

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neokids · 3 years

Text

Fortune's Fool: Act X

Masterlist (read previous and future ones here!)

Act X

Tw: Lots of blood, character death, violence, murder, guns, knives, weapons, foul language, self-inflicted wounds, suicide, overall graphic content

“Watch out,” Yeji warned Karina and Lia as they stood outside another opium den, it was 1929 and opium was the only substance capable of distracting people from what was truly happening. The three of them were at the entrance of Viper-owned territory so they shouldn’t have to worry about anything, but Karina couldn’t help the bubbling emotion of anxiety in her stomach.

“Stay close to me,” Yeji continued as she and her cousins stepped inside the establishment. The establishment looked very unkempt, you could hear the uneven floorboards creaking each step they took. Some of the lights were flickering, and they could see the discoloration of the walls. The walls were a shade of smokey gray, possibly from all the dust and smoke accumulated all these years. What once was a shade of pure and innocent white, had now turned into dark gray. Soon enough, it would be black. “Be careful, there may be hostile assassins working here.”

“What? Assassins?” Karina asked, placing her hands on her waist as she felt her weapons pressed underneath the rich fabric of her clothing. “I thought we were here to collect petty rent money?”

“We are,” Yeji parted the old beaded curtains, revealing the main entrance to the den. “Never hurts to be careful.”

The smell of the place can be compared to a burning rose, it was truly sad how a smell so nice can be linked to addiction and other vices. The more they went in, the more faint the smell of roses lingered in their noses. The previous scent of burning roses were now replaced by the smell of gasoline and fire. Just as they reached the last door in the hallway, a group of women came out from one of the doors. Judging by their lack of fabric used for their clothes and their skirt riding up their thighs, they were courtesans.

“How may I help you?”

Yeji turned around to look for the source of the cheery voice, a woman in her thirties stood before them. Yeji eyed her clothes as she saw stains of black and loose threads hanging, causing her to unconsciously scrunch her nose. The lady took notice and stepped forward towards the younger, this time examining her closely.

“Oh my,” the woman said as she brought a hand to her chest, “Yeji Hwang, the last time I saw you, you couldn’t even pick up a gun.”

Yeji raised her brow, “Forgive me, but have we met before?”

The woman let out a warm chuckle as she placed her hands on her waist, “How dare you forget your favorite Aunt Sandara?”

“Who the hell is Aunt Sandara?” Lia asked in a whispered tone as she nudged her sister, Karina only shrugged flippantly. “I didn’t even know we had an ‘Aunt Sandara’”

“Uh-huh, sure.” This caused Sandara to purse her lips into a thin line. “I assume you aren’t here for chitchat then,” Sandara paused as she eyed the twins behind Yeji. “I take your silence as a no, follow me.”

Sandara led them deeper into the building, taking many turns and stairs to finally reach her office. She opened the door to reveal a room decorated with a Moroccan theme, there were no other chairs, just some soft cushions placed on the ground. Sandara beckoned the girls to sit, but they all just opted to stand.

“You look just like your mother,” Sandara blurted as she lit her pipe. “I was friends with your mother long ago actually.”

“You were?” Yeji asked, she couldn’t remember a single time her mother had mentioned an ‘Aunt Sandara’

“Yes…” She paused to inhale a long drag of whatever she was smoking, “Until someone had accused me of being too friendly with the Neos, it was all bullshit of course. I hate the Neos just as much as you do.”

“I don’t hate the Neos,” Yeji dejected quickly, way too quickly. “I hate the people who hurt the ones I love, most of the time those people are Neos. There’s a difference.”

“I see, don’t let them hear it though.” Sandara said as she looked at Yeji, Yeji noticed a different glimmer in her eyes.

“Or else they might think you’re getting friendly with them.” Yeji gulped, her throat suddenly feeling dry.

“You’re not though, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I should be asking you that question, Aunt Sandara.” Yeji said, her name rolling off her lips in a mocking manner. She shifted her attention to look at Lia, suddenly grabbing her wrist. “Oh I know you, you are Lia Yoo right? I knew your father as well, he has such precious children. I was so upset when you were sent to Canada, but thankfully they brought you back here.” Her eyes turned to Karina, a beat passed.

Yeji cleared her throat.

“My appa sent us here to collect–” She cut in to try and lead her attention away from Karina, but to her dismay the older was too focused on the latter.

“But who are you?” Sandara asked, interrupting Yeji to address Karina.

Karina narrowed her eyes at Sandara, through grit teeth she replied, “My name is Karina.”

Sandara had exaggerated her trying to remember Karina.

“Oh! I remember! Yes of course, forgive me. You were the one who– Never mind.”

Yeji thinned her lips as Lia crossed her arms. But Karina only looked at Sandara with the flattest look in her eyes. “I was the one who what?”

Sandara blinked, not sure to answer truthfully or not, she decided on the first. “You were the one who got sent to a different school when you arrived here, weren’t you?”

“I was,” Karina answered as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What about it, Sandara?”

Yeji and Lia exchanged glances, they could feel the tension rising in the room. “Nothing really, I understand how hard it is to adjust when you grew up in foreign lands. You were always so rude when you were young, always sticking your tongue out when you see me. I see nothing has changed.” Sandara replied as she leaned back.

Karina feigned a laugh, “Old habits die hard,”

“Don’t worry Karina, I too had several remedial classes to aid with my slow learning–”

“Enough,” There was no way they would listen to this stranger go on and on with what she had to say. This went on for far too long. “May we talk somewhere else? Privately?”

“Yeji,” Karina said as she tapped Yeji on the shoulder, “We’ll go ahead.”

It was only Yeji and Sandara now, “I have your rent money.” The older said as she pulled out a bag of coins from underneath her desk. She placed the coins on her palm, counting each coin with a sour expression on her face.

“Actually,” Sandara looked up at Yeji, confused as to why Yeji suddenly interrupted her counting. “Keep it. There is something I would gladly prefer.”

Sandara looked at her, and then at the door. She placed the coins back into the bag as she turned towards Yeji once again, “And that would be?”

“Information about the Rovers.”

The once calm expression of Sandara had disappeared entirely, “I beg your pardon?”

“I know you led them into this place as common meeting grounds, so tell me. What role do the Rovers play regarding the madness sweeping across Seoul this very moment?”

Sandara barked a laugh, she couldn’t believe what the girl in front of her was asking. “I’m sorry dear, but I have yet the slightest clue what you are talking about.” Sandara said as she wiped a nonexistent tear from her cheek, “I stay out of their business.”

There must be a reason why Sandara never appeared in one of the many Viper Gang meetings, she was Viper-associated, but has never really contributed to the name. Was it fear or was it loyalty? One of those two could be the reason why she’s not talking.

“Of course. How rude of me to assume.” Yeji fished a glittering diamond necklace from her pocket, Sandara eyeing the jewel like a vulture who hasn't eaten in days. “Allow me a gift to make up for my surmise.”

Yeji walked behind Sandara before she could even protest, who would refuse a diamond necklace?

If only it were a diamond necklace.

Sandara let out a choked yelp as Yeji tightened the wire around her throat. Sandara desperately tried to claw Yeji’s hands away from her neck but to her dismay, she would only tighten her grip.

“Stop! Stop!” Sandara pleaded, “I speak!”

“Then speak,”

“The Rovers take no responsibility in this madness, nor do they associate themselves with whatever is causing it. As a political party, they stay absolutely resolute that this is not their doing. However, they do speculate privately.”

“Who?”

When Sandara seemed to hesitate, Yeji tightened the wire again, causing the older to gag. There were already tiny droplets of blood seeping from her once smooth skin, the microblades in the wire doing its job. Yeji, voice remaining as calm as the morning tide, said “Give me a name.”

“Jinyoung Park, secretary-general of the Rovers.”

Upon hearing the name, Yeji immediately let go of the wire causing Sandara to let out a breath of relief. Yeji took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the wire until it was glittering again, no traces of blood and trauma whatsoever. When she was done wiping the weapon, she tucked it back into her pocket and approached the shaking Sandara. Sandara could not react when Yeji had loosely tied the handkerchief across her neck to seep the line of blood.

“I apologize for your troubles,” Yeji said, giving Sandara, who was now as pale as her dress, a tap on the shoulder. “You’ll keep this between us won’t you, Aunt Sandara?”

Sandara nodded blankly, still unable to move and recover from what had happened. Yeji tossed a bundle of cash on her desk and made her way out of the door. Her heels clicked and echoed all throughout the hallway, she remained as calm and confident like nothing had happened. Once she was outside, she only saw Lia enjoying a cone of ice cream.

“Where’s Karina?” Yeji asked, Lia turned to her and nodded towards Karina’s familiar figure approaching them. “Where were you?”

“Went to get you one,” Karina said as she handed Yeji a serving of ice cream. “Here.”

Yeji looked at Karina and back at the ice cream, “Thanks.”

“So can we go? I have a shift at the Poculum exactly 30 minutes from now.” Lia said as she tossed her unfinished ice cream in a bin. “We’re going.”

...

As soon as they had dropped off Lia at the club, Yeji immediately snapped at Karina. “What?”

Karina blinked. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

“Oh, I didn’t know you noticed.” She replied as she slouched on the back seat. “Do you doubt my eyes, Kar?” Yeji then motioned to her face. “Anywhere, do I have ice cream stains anywhere?”

“No, you don’t.” Karina said as she crossed her legs, engines of the car revving once again. “Then what is it?” Yeji asked as she saw Karina hesitate, deciding carefully on the words she chooses to say.

“Nothing, just wondering when we can go shopping again.” Karina said nonchalantly.

“You suck at lying, do you know that?” Yeji asked, not content with the obvious lie for an answer her cousin gave her.

“Okay, okay, fine. The den earlier, that was in Viper grounds right?” Yeji looked at her as she raised her brow. “Viper-associated, but yes. Why did you ask?”

Karina turned her attention back to the window as gazed at the scenery. “Nothing, just thought I saw someone who should not be seen here.”

“Foreigners leave and enter Seoul all the time,” Yeji said, unsure of who Karina saw. “I know, must be another foreigner I hope I could marry someday.”

As soon as they arrived back in their Mansion, a sudden shriek had made its way to their ears. Yeji and Karina immediately sprinted towards the living room to find the maid currently clawing her throat.

“What is wrong with you?!” Yeji shrieked as she tried to get a hold of the maid’s hands. “Karina get help!”

Yeji and the gardener who thankfully came into the scene tried to bound the maid to stop her actions, the maid violently twisting and shaking as she tried to fight for her life.

Just as Yeji was about to shout for Karina’s name, Karina had beat her to it.

“Yeji!” A terrified Karina screamed, “Come here! Now!”

Yeji quickly went to the kitchen to find Karina trying her hardest to muffle her terrified screams. They saw their cook writhing in pain on the floor as he continued to tear at his own throat.

Death had knocked on their doorstep

Just as they were about to act, Yeji and Karina heard another scream from a maid entering the kitchen, she was already collapsing and tearing her own throat.

The maids and the cook stilled, they were gone. Yeji and Karina stayed frozen, shock overcoming their bodies. Karina then immediately bolted as she approached the dead maid.

The madness could be contagious

“Stop!” Yeji shouted towards her cousin causing Karina to back away from the scene.

“Send men to clean this mess,” Yeji said as she turned around to see her horrified family members, “And tell them to wear gloves.”

A/N: Sorry for not updating in a while, please do let me know your thoughts and theories!

#nct mafia au #nct mafia #nct dream mafia au #jeno mafia au #jeno mafia #itzy mafia au #itzy mafia #yeji mafia #yeji mafia au #aespa mafia au #aespa mafia #karina mafia #yeji au #jeno imagines #jeno smut #jeno angst

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seokiloquy · 4 years

Text

Pumpkin Spice - Miya Osamu

AU: Regular, coffee shop(?)

Server Collab (Linked)

Tags/Warnings: GN Reader, swearing, time-skip spoilers

Word Count: 9.2k+

Working at a cafe in the middle of the busy streets of Tokyo’s business sector often led to many customers in need of a nice brew and in association, tips. Lots of tips that often fell into your pocket at the end of the day. The pay was good enough and made up for the moderately long commute from your campus that you spent sleeping on the train. On top of that, your boss was the nicest and most supportive old woman in downtown Tokyo.

The interior of the cafe was soft and homey in comparison to the reflective silver exterior of the building outside. Seats with red vinyl cushions filled the open area leading to the wooden top counter that you worked behind, mixing up whatever ludicrous drink they asked for. The customers loved you. You loved the money. It was the best.

It was sunny that day, people were smiling for once as they walked to work for once. The traffic was light, people weren’t running late, and to top it all off you had just gotten an email that morning with the mark for your latest assignment, a perfect grade.

“We’re closing.”

“Like, just for today, right?” you asked Juri, brows furrowed as a disbelieving smile pulled on your face as if you were being pranked. She gave you a sad look. “Right?” you repeated, pouring in a measured amount of coffee beans into the espresso machine.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry,” Juri gasped. “The building owner jacked up the renting price and I just can’t afford it now.”

You reached behind you for the counter, gripping it tightly between your fingers as you pulled yourself closer to slump onto it. A dull ache began to grow right between your eyes. “Don’t apologize, Juri. There’s nothing you can do. I’m fine.”

“Well, that’s a lie,” she spoke after a moment, skating over the thin ice that froze over your conversation. “You can spend more time studying now at least, university gets harder in your final year.”

“University’s the reason I needed this job though.” You walked around Juri’s stout form, reaching for the coffee machine, grabbing hold of a mug and readying yourself for the freshly pressed beans. “I have to pay for it somehow.”

“(Y/N), darling, maybe a three shot espresso isn’t the best thing to have right now.”

You gave the old woman a sour look over your shoulder before shooting back the mug of dark bean soup. Immediately, your tongue tried to escape your mouth. “Oh god, you,” you gagged momentarily. “You were right. That was horrid.” An uncomfortable shiver ran over your shoulders and through your spine.

Juri’s wrinkled hand came to rest over the black strap of your apron that hung desperately to your shoulder, squeezing it tightly to the point of bruising. She pulled you down roughly and flicked your forehead with her nail. “Stupid,” she chastised.

Walking to the sink, she grabbed the mug you held and rinsed it out before handing it back to you, filled to the brim with cold water. She rubbed your back, encouraging you to suck back the water to rid the bitter taste from the corners of your mouth. “If you want, I’ll write up a letter of recommendation for your resume.”

“I’m not sure whoever would hire me would take the time to read it, no one uses reference letters anymore. But thank you, I’d appreciate it.”

She smiled, making the wrinkles on her face shift slightly. “Anything for you sweetheart. Besides, you’ll need every advantage you can get with your horrid cooking.”

On your last day of work, Juri sent you off into the dark streets of Tokyo with a notebook filled with homebrew, baking and cooking recipes —the last two being one’s you have never and likely never will touch— and a container of cookies that she had made that morning.

The book, in and of itself, was innocent enough. A relatively mute earthy colour palette that made flowery designs from one edge to the other. But, you knew there had to be some secret spells of torture within the pages, or just something that you’d injure yourself with.

Not even a day later, far into the night, a sugar-covered cookie was left forgotten on your table as you scrolled through job listings on your computer, occasionally getting distracted by the scantily clad fictional characters that promoted a game on the edges of the webpage. You reached for the cookie, shooting your eyes back to the list and scrolling.

Your dorm was rather modest, more like a small apartment when compared to some of the other dorms on campus though. Which admittedly saved you money and made it more expensive at once. With your own kitchen and modest living space attached to a bedroom and bathroom, you successfully managed to isolate yourself from any other students in the building for just an extra fee. Luckily, having a kitchen meant that the school didn’t supply you with food, saving you money, but also leaving you starving since the only recipes you had in your head were for coffee. Moment’s spent in your kitchen alone with a grumbling stomach sometimes made you wish you were roomed with another person, or had taken the university's food plan. Curse your late teenage pride.

The walls were off white, surrounding a room filled with mostly dark furniture —namely navy— and reflecting the light that came off your computer screen. They made large shadows against your floor and walls. Your two fingers swept along the mousepad, moving the dry list up your screen. You bit into the cookie, quickly scarfing it down and clawing for another, mumbling to yourself as you skimmed over all the nanny jobs, and full-time positions. Corporations that would likely not give you enough pay were quickly forgotten, also.

The neighbours above you were playing study music rather loudly, letting the smooth sounds seep through the walls gently, it made you want to sleep, they probably had an essay to work on. You sighed, rubbing your eyes before sparing a glance at the time displayed in the corner of your screen. 1:32 am. Swallowing down the tired taste in your mouth, you swiped your fingers harshly against the pad, entirely too tired to do any more thinking and letting the loading screen of the website choose your job for you. You threw your head back, slumping into your seat with a worried wince, desperately hoping that you wouldn’t regret it.

You squinted at the top result of the most recent listings. “Huh.”

The black uniform wearing man scratched his head through his matching, logo crested hat, making it shift slightly to reveal his dyed hair underneath it. You sat silently on the plush stool at the counter as the older man —he couldn’t be much older than you, could he?— skimmed through your resume lightly before reading the reference letter Juri had written for you. The sweater he wore tightened at each opening, puffing out into what looked like a cozy crewneck. Definitely not the most common uniform for a food establishment, but you wouldn’t complain, it was starting to get colder. He rested his elbow on the counter-table, turning the top of his stool to face you directly.

“You’ve never worked in food before?”

The open-concept space of the man’s restaurant/cafe seemed to close in rapidly, making the light brown tables and decorations blend in with the white walls and red seats. The colours spun in your vision, blurring all your surroundings except for the tall, hunched man in front of you. He seemed to pop off the screen of your static vision with a halo of light surrounding him. You blinked rapidly, mentally shooing away the loopy visions. There wasn’t enough sleep in your system. That and it felt like you were about to be penalized.

Noticing his intense, stoic eye-contact, heat from your stomach rushed up to your cheeks and ears. He had pretty, grey eyes. Your lungs vibrated under your sternum as you tried to suck in enough air to speak. A bashful smile crept onto your face as your fingers fiddled together, occasionally dragging the pad of your thumb over the length of your nails.

“If I’m being honest, I’ve never been very good in the kitchen. Juri, my old boss, wouldn’t let me help her with baking the pastries because I would always burn myself. I’m working on it though.” That was a lie, a total lie. You weren’t working at it at all. You continued, laughing at yourself, “Because of that, Juri always had me doing beverages. So when I saw you were looking for a barista, I applied.” Well, that was only a partial lie.

The silver-haired man chuckled lightly, “I received your request for an interview, your request, 5 minutes after I posted the listing.”

Biting your lip, you reached for a napkin from one of the dispensers as you forced yourself to maintain eye contact. He seemed to enjoy watching your fingers fiddle with the limp piece of paper. You coughed, “Is that a good thing? Cause my desperate self is in need of a job. I’ll even risk burning my hands off if that’s what’s needed.”

He laughed again, taking the black, curve-rimmed hat off his head and set your papers down next to it on the sleek wooden counter. “(L/N), relax. I am looking for another barista, I had my previous one go work at our second location because it’s closer to home. So I’m short-handed and know only the basics about coffee, and with winter fast approaching I need help.”

You ripped the tissue paper in your hand in half before compiling it and stuffing it quickly into your pocket. “Does that mean I’m hired? Cause I need to pay for my tuition.” He watched, an amused smile pulling at his face, he stood up gesturing for you to follow him. With an awkward grin, you followed his silent instruction.

The rectangular counter you were sitting at wrapped around the back corner, creating a two-metre space walkway that led to the bathrooms and cut off an unlabeled wooden door from being easily accessed by customers. You followed his steps, watching his black Adidas sneakers step over the lines of the large wood floor panels. He opened the wooden door, gesturing you inside, before pulling a box off of the shelf that sat against the back wall and dropping it onto the counter next to a sink. Pulling out a cozy-looking crewneck sweater with a proud and yet desperate smile.

“This is the kitchen and break room,” he said, throwing out an arm to the rest of the large space, before walking back over to you, sweater and cap in hand. “Can you come in tomorrow? I can show you the ropes.”

“I’m sorry Miss, but we don’t have that drink here, it's not the season yet.” You smiled apologetically at the older woman who was digging through her bag in frustration. You hated telling customers little white lies, the feeling dug at the sides of your stomach each time you had to. It was becoming more frequent with October fast approaching.

“I’m sorry too,” she replied, letting her purse drop onto the counter with a smack. “My daughter has been nagging me all day to pick up one of these drinks and no one has it yet.”

You flexed and clenched your fist underneath the counter before adjusting your cap to try and give the woman a confident facade. “We’ll be getting the ingredients next week, so hopefully she can hold off until then. For now, would you like some onigiri? They’re freshly made.”

“Please.”

After ringing up the woman’s total and sending her out the door with a wave, you turned to your co-worker with an anxious grin. Taichi scoffed in response, openly laughing in your face. “You have to stop lying to our customers!” he berated with a lopsided expression.

“I know, I know! But I hate seeing them annoyed or upset. I can’t help it that they keep asking for a drink that we can’t make!”

The 1st year university student (who you quickly found out went to the same school as you) chuckled, leaning against the onigiri display. “What are the ingredients for it anyway?” he asked, watching you rest your hip against the counter next to the cash register.

“One cup of pumpkin puree, half a cup of sugar, half a teaspoon of pumpkin spice seasoning but that’s optional. That’s to make the pumpkin sauce. Then you need a quarter cup of pumpkin sauce, two ounces of espresso, eight ounces of milk, and then whipped cream and cinnamon on top,” you listed, staring off onto the floor.

“You have that memorized?” Taichi asked rhetorically, mouth hanging open.

You crossed your arms. “I’ve been working as a barista for over 3 years now. You start to remember things.”

Taichi lifted his hat, taking a moment to ruffle his straight cut black hair before setting it back down on his head. “Well, you can just ask Miya to order some, right?”

Snapping your finger, you sent the younger boy a finger gun with a pensive look pulling your eyebrows upward, “I hadn’t thought about that.”

On your next shift, after an early morning lecture about the global economy and stock market (which you tried not to sleep through), you walked into the break room to find your silver-headed boss curl over the edge of the small round table in the corner of the room while sitting on the old futon next to it, hair tousled in an oddly pleasant way. His hands moved quickly as he scribbled into the papers before him, the tight grip on his pen making his muscles flex slightly in his arm, that was made visible by his rolled up sleeves.

You quickly looked to your shoes, trying to calm your breathing down. “Um, Miya,” you called lightly, trying not to startle him. Nearly dropping the pen in his hand, he looked up. “Sorry,” you said, pulling your hands into the sleeves of your uniform.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m almost done,” he said, watching your fidgeting hands. “Did you need something?”

“Pumpkin sauce.”

He gave you a strange look, nose scrunching as a single eyebrow lifted. “Pumpkin sauce? Oh right, that’s a thing isn’t it?” Miya said as if just remembering the time of year, looking away from your wiggling fingers to the empty kitchen across from him.

You gulped. “Yes, for pumpkin spice lattes. A lot of customers have been asking about it.”

He raised the other eyebrow in your direction, trying to strangle down a teasing laugh. “You lied to the customers didn’t you?”

“I might have told a little white lie so they wouldn’t get upset.”

Miya sighed, holding eye contact with you for a moment, before signing the last sheet of paper in front of him with an entertained smile. He looked back up while gathering the papers into a neat pile. “I’ll get an order in by next week.”

“Thank you.”

Why did you ever decide that philosophy was a good thing to take in university? Seriously. What were you thinking? You stared at the empty document before you, blinking tiredly as you groaned.

Aesthetics. The first unit that your professor chose to discuss for a university-level because it’s likely the easiest to discuss. The essay itself was more introductory than anything. The instructions were to write an essay about how aesthetics and attraction to particular aesthetics are created, how society plays a role, and finally, your own personal stance.

You clearly remember glaring at the young professor when she said she wanted to gain a deeper understanding of each student. That’s for high school, you thought, mentally going over the three years of university you’ve already suffered through. Then again, maybe an easy grade. The only downside was that even though you’ve gone through nearly a decade and a half of school, you’ve never been good at writing an introspective piece.

“Professor Suzuki, How introspective should it be exactly?” you had asked her after the lecture had finished.

She gave you a sharp pointy smile with a light, slow shrug. “However much you think is needed. But I do want to learn about you and your experiences.”

Your brows were pinched together tightly, as you tried to understand. “So like an attraction autobiography?” That's deeply concerning.

She never did give you a clear response after that. Dancing around the direct answer you needed to hear. She must’ve been a high school literature teacher at some point.

A self-deprecating chuckle escaped you, making the younger boy who was lazing about on your couch turn his attention away from the tv. “What crawled into your pants?” Taichi asked, pouring the last remains of your chip bag into his mouth.

“I have to write about stuff for a philosophy essay.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of an essay?” The empty chip bag crinkled loudly in his hands as they folded the plastic messily.

You scowled at him. “If you’re going to be a smart ass you can stop eating my food and go back to your dorm.” Standing up from your kitchen counter, you scanned the junk-filled counters, eyes landing on the small carpet patterned notebook that sat sadly on the corner edge.

Taichi ran up from his seat, pleading for you to not send him out, claiming that his roommate was mean and hogged up the whole space. You partially ignored him, letting his yapping ring numbly in your ear as you flipped through Juri’s old recipe book.

“Wanna help me make cookies?” you asked, turning your head his way and effectively cutting off his rambling.

He paused, letting his bottom lip hang open before snapping it shut in a cautious sneer. “You’re deciding to bake? I’d rather risk getting bullied by my roommate. Bye.” He ran out of the dorm. Ran.

“God, my baking skills don’t warrant that kind of a reaction, jeez,” you huffed to yourself, slamming the notebook shut. No longer in the mood to experiment in the kitchen.

“Did the new rice come in?” the blond asked, letting his whole torso lie flat on the short table extension of the main counter.

The light click of a plate resonated in the empty restaurant. “You’re lucky,” the grey-haired one said, monotone response making the other look up to the large, meat-filled onigiri waiting for him on the porcelain plate. “Fresh shipment just came in this morning.” At the entrance of the building, the bell attached to the door sang lightly as it opened. Notifying your entrance, while a cool autumn breeze rolled past you. “Speaking of shipment. (L/N), the pumpkin sauce came in!”

You unravelled the scarf around your neck as you walked, giving your boss a large grin that made him gulp slightly. “Really? That's amazing, Miya..” The blond, noticing the other man’s reaction upon your entrance, spun in his chair, making his honey brown eyes meet yours. “There’s t-two. Two of you?” The scarf you had taken off sat limply in your hand as you stared off blankly at the two identical men.

“(L/N), this is my brother. You can call him Atsumu.”

The blonde sent you a small vibrating wave and a smirk, leaning his elbow against the counter as he tilted his head in your direction. With tightened brows and a tight, awkward smile, you nodded in response, bowing as your hand began to grip your colourful scarf a bit tighter. The blond followed up his brother’s introduction. “If you’re gonna call me Atsumu, you might as well address him as Samu.”

“Samu?” You questioned.

Over the table, ‘Samu’ smacked his brother with the black cap from his head. Hitting his shoulder with a loud smack before facing you. “Osamu is fine.”

You nodded hesitantly before bowing again. “Call me (Y/N), then. The both of you.” Facing your silver-haired boss, who still gripped his black baseball cap tightly between his fingers, you pointed to the back room with a meek smile. “I’m gonna go put my stuff down. Sorry for being a bit behind. I was up late working on an essay.”

Osamu nodded. “Sure thing, I have a new recipe for you to try out when you come back out,” giving you an understanding smile before ushering you off to the back, watching the folds of your jacket move with each step. He gulped. As soon as your back fell behind the door frame's edge, he weaponized his flimsy hat again, making the older twin howl as the top button hit his temple.

“What was that for?!” the fake blond screeched.

Osamu sent him a deadly glare. “Don’t flirt with my employee. They’re too young for you.”

“We’re the same age, Samu,” Atsumu teased, as he dropped his voice a couple of semitones. “I don’t see you restraining yourself.”

Atsumu left Onigiri Miya with a number of small bruises running along his hairline that morning. Though, he refused to leave without sending you a request to watch his upcoming game. “I want to have everyone watching,” he said, forgetting to even tell you what you’d be seeing, leaving his younger twin to take the burden.

You sat on one of the red plush stools, swinging it side to side and Osamu stood on the other side of the counter, onigiri filled plate in hand. He wore a hesitant grin as he set the plate down in front of you. Then, he started talking as he walked around the counter. “They’re slightly different than the ones I usually make so they look a bit weird, but we had the ingredients so I thought I'd play around with the different flavours.”

The store was empty. As expected for an early Saturday morning. It was also windy outside, making the inside of Onigiri Miya feel that much warmer as the howling wind ran loudly against the glass wall of the entrance, occasionally making the polyester awning above the entrance flap around like paper.

You gave him an encouraging smile as he walked around your seated form, nearest hand brushing over the length of your shoulders through the black sweater. A chill ran down your spine as his hand fell from the end of your shoulder. He sat down beside you, spinning the stool to face you head-on, much like how you both were during your interview. “I’m sure they taste great. What are the fillings?” you asked, reaching for one-half of the two pairs of onigiri on the plate.

“Well, since the pumpkin sauce came in, I figured I would play around with it a bit,” he said, reaching for one of his own.

Once you bit into the centre of the rice ball the smooth sweet flavour of the sauce rolled over your tongue. The orange sauce dyed the rice on the inside, making the colour soak in the individual grains. You let the flavour sit on your tongue for a moment. “Were you going for a sweet onigiri?”

Osamu chuckled a bit. “Kind of. I made the other one more savoury though.”

You looked at the other slightly misshapen onigiri on the plate, then up at the maker of them, meeting his eyes with a kind supportive smile. “The choice is yours,” you said, taking one off the platter and taking a large bite out of it. “But I think they’re both pretty tasty.”

“Really?” he asked, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning toward you in earnest. “Not too sweet or bland?”

“They’re perfect. Just like the chef who made them," you complimented happily.

Osamu flushed slightly, trying to pout as he chewed away at his onigiri. "You don't have to be so nice, they still look a bit lopsided."

"Does the appearance of the food really matter? I thought the taste was the biggest factor," you teased lightly. Whenever you made a brew for a customer, most never really cared if there was a cute design sprinkled on the top, or if the layers were visible from the side of their plastic cup if they took it to go. All you ever focused on was the taste, and when the 7 am rush comes through, patrons are typically too tired to even care about the look so long as they get their dose of coffee in.

"Do you never look at the exterior of things? Most consumers judge their first impressions of things based on their appearance. Like book covers."

You furrowed your brow. "I've never really thought about it. A lot of the books I read are digital now so there's no need for a fancy cover."

"What about people then," he prompted, leaning further forward, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. His normally grey eyes seemed to hold tints of the honey brown from those of his sibling. "Have you ever... let's say, been attracted to someone based on their appearance alone?"

Your gaze shot back and forth between his eyes and the fringe of his silver lightly brushing over his eyebrow before finally settling on his left, blown out pupil that started more directly at yours. "Maybe subconsciously." It came out in a light whisper.

The bell at the entrance rang, a ragged, tired looking suit-clad woman wobbled in. Eyes blinking slowly as she waved her hand in the air. "Light roast, double shot espresso with whipped cream! I am running late!"

You shot out of your seat, knocking off Osamu's hat by the brim with your own, before grabbing a mug from over the counter and rushing to the mixtures. "On it!"

"Thank you," she panted, handing her card to Osamu to ring up.

Your head and shoulder twitched as you bounced on your toes outside the glass wall of Onigiri Miya. The wet concrete and frozen air of the early morning made the idea of curling against the polished glass with your face tucked into your scarf all the more tempting. Another silver tickled your spine.

Groaning you spun around to face the golden brown and red streets. Wind carried the dry leaves over their drowned sibling until falling into a puddle themselves. You closed your eyes, trying to redirect the heat in your body to your hands that were tucked into your pockets, clenched tightly.

Something cold lightly smacked against your nose and eyelids.

Cracking your eyes open, your lashes pushed against a brown decaying wall that blocked out all the light of the early morning. When it was away, leaving a cold residue behind, the light made your squint.

“You're here early,” the silver haired man said, tossing the old leaf over his shoulder before pulling a collection of keys from his coat pocket and gently tucked you out of the door with his free hand. Opening it up, he placed the keys into his back jean pocket.

“Did you just give me a face mask with an old leaf?”

“Sure did,” he said, matter-a-factly. “Why are you here so early? You’re not a morning person.”

You followed him through the glass door, letting him take the responsibility of flicking off the lights as you pulled your coats and scarf off. “You said today was your brother's game, I didn’t know what time, so I figured I'd be here a bit early.”

Mouth open, Osamu stared at you without blinking, as if searching for a joke. “You know most post games happen in the evening right?”

“So I’m here early for nothing then.”

The two of you walked through the empty restaurant, coats slung over your arms as you conversed.

“I wouldn’t say nothing,” he teased, hanging up his coat on the hanger in the back, lifting the bottom hem of his shirt slightly. “You get to work.”

“Yay,” you yawned, reaching for your uniform sweatshirt.

“For money.” He added.

He had trouble making you laugh throughout the morning, only receiving yawns and frustrated pout in response as you made coffee for all the equally tired customers.

You’ve never seen a volleyball game before, only ever having tried to play during gym class in high school. On top of that, you never understood the rules, but you blamed that on the phys ed teacher rather than your own inability.

The live recording of Astumu’s game was being played on multiple sports channels. It got pulled up on the large screen of the tv that sat against the wall 30 minutes before the game even started. Osamu stood with you and Taichi —who had made it to work at a reasonable time to watch the game—, explaining the rules and positions over layers of customer chatter, as he made onigiri in view of the game instead of in the back where he normally worked. He pointed to the screen.

“That’s Hinata in the opposite hitter position. He pretty much does the same thing as Bokuto,” he shifted his arms angle to point to the duo-tones haired player on the screen. “An outside hitter.” Then, facing you, he watched as your nose scrunched in thought.

“What makes them different, then?” Beside you, Taichi nodded along, handing a customer a plate of onigiri.

“Their orientation with the setter,” Osamu replied. Before letting out a loud cheer, fist clenched and elbow tucking quickly into his side as his brother scored another point.

You let out a loud, exasperated laugh, shaking your head slightly. “There are a lot of rules and stuff you want me to memorize.” On the other side of the counter, a girl came up to stand in front of you, asking for a pumpkin spice latte. “Sure thing. Taichi, ring her up for me would you?” you asked, making your way to the coffee machines that sat along the length of the counters, continuing to talk to Osamu.

You looked at the available ingredients. “We’re gonna need more pumpkin sauce.”

“I’ll order it. Is it that confusing?” He asked, following you to the machines.

Mug in hand, you gave Osamu an unsure look as you reached for the whipped cream, stretching your arm only to knock it farther away. “A little? But at least their mascot is cute.”

“The black jackal?” he laughed, taking hold of the whipped sugar and placing it in your open palm, to which you smiled in thanks. He quickly diverted his gaze, staring at the blank walls as he bit inside of his cheek. “Didn’t even bother to listen to me ramble then, too busy gushing over the cute mascot. I thought visual exteriors weren’t important to you.”

“Oh shut up, I was listening,” you scoffed haughtily, smacking Osamu’s shoulder as you walked past his tall figure to give the girl her mug. “And he was interacting with the young fans, it was cute.” You looked at the clock. “It’s 6:30, I’m gonna take my break. I got an essay to write.”

Taichi laughed mockingly. “Good luck. We’ll hold down the fort.”

Osamu watched your back as you walked away, adjusting his hat as he turned to face the upcoming customer that had just walked in.

“Bake at 450? Oh, that's Fahrenheit? Why, though? Okay, got it. Oh shit, did preheat it too much then?”

Juri, as lovely a lady as she is, had terrible handwriting, or terrible in your opinion because you couldn’t read it. Whether it was a letter, or note for an order of cookies and bread, the intricate curls of her connected lettering always made your brain feel like it hit a brick wall. Holding the book in your right hand, you used the other to carry the tray of separated butter cookie dough and hooked your foot underneath the oven handle to pull it open. Still glaring at the writing, you slowly lowered the metal tray onto the racks.

“Hey, (Y/N)! Can—”

“Fuck!”

Taichi let himself in, turning the corner of your kitchen counter to quickly pull your hand away from the immense heat source. You clenched your teeth tightly, airy and painful laugh falling through your grimace. Dropping the notebook, you wrapped your hand around your left wrist, squeezing it tightly as Taichi helped you stand up. An endless series of insults left you, directed at the large cubic fire instrument.

“Okay cold water, here we go.” Taichi then left your side to finish tucking in the metal tray, silicone glove on his hand. He turned back around to see you hunched form leaning over the running sink, choppy breaths flying out of you. “Why are you baking?” he scolded.

“Oh, I can’t bake now?”

“You’ve never been able to bake.”

“Oh screw you, dude. I’m trying to learn a new skill.”

“Learning how to kill, more like it.”

Hand still stuck under the cold running water, and pain still crawling up your arm like red ants deciding to feast on your flesh, you slowly turned your head to face the younger boy, smacking your lips. You glared, “Why are you here, Taichi?”

The new university student dug his socked toe into the tiled floor of your kitchen. Pursing his lips and sending you a pair of finger guns as soon as he met your glare. He lowered them when you didn’t laugh. “I was hoping you could take care of my closing shift tonight? I have a group assignment due tomorrow and no one did any work.”

Spinning your head and torso uncomfortably to look behind you, you stared at the clock on your wall. You bit your lip. “Taichi, your shift starts at 6.”

“Uh, ya.”

“It’s 5:30.”

“Uh-huh,” he continued, barefaced, as he tucked his hands into his jean pockets.

“You're working here and waiting for the cookie timer to go off.”

Taichi nodded, moving his feet to look at the oven counting down. “Okay, got it. Do I get to eat some of them?”

You sneered at him as your blistered hand throbbed painfully at the movement of you grabbing your things, notebook included, in haste. “If they don’t kill you.”

“Osamu! I’m so sorry for being late!” You yelled rushing through the main door and startling a few customers. You ran towards the staff only door unravelling the warm scarf from around your neck and letting your jacket fall off your shoulders as you went.

Osamu’s eyes followed your frazzled movements, chuckling lightly as you kicked the wooden door open. He yelled through the door as you changed into your cozy uniform. “Calm down, (Y/N). You’re not late. Taichi called in too, so don’t worry.”

You poked your head through the door, brows pinched in the center before slowly walking up to stand next to him. “So I’m not late?” you asked, adjusting your hat.

The customers had gone back to their individual activities, typing away at their computers or reading whatever book in hand or chatting over a simple brew and snack Osamu had put together for them. You looked out the front window, the sun was already beginning to set over the darkening leaves, letting a warm glow pour in through the glass to cover every surface inside the cafe despite the temperature outside being the opposite.

The evening was spent with both of you helping the late-night customers with their requests, often having to dance around each other's forms with a light ‘sorry’ or ‘excuse me’ to notify the other.

“Thank you both. Have a good night!” the last customer called, waving, as they walked through the door.

Osamu waved back as you collected the mugs and plates that were left at the tables, taking them to the back room. “I’m gonna wash these up then take my break. Is that alright?”

“No problem, we probably won't see anyone else for the night so I can handle it.”

The door swung shut behind you.

When you turned on the tap hot water poured out quickly, and without thinking much of it, you stuck your left hand under it. You flinched, letting out a strangled yelp before switching the water to cold, letting it wash over somehow forgotten burn on the back of your hand. You sighed at your own stupidity, grabbing a dirty plate. Luckily the dishes were quick to clean, the light music you set up on your computer beforehand helped. Before you even realized, the dishes were washed and dried, and you could get some work done on your essay.

You sat down on the couch futon, blowing cold air onto your burnt hand that you switched tabs on your laptop. The constant yawns escaping you only seemed to make lying on the slightly deformed seat way more tempting than trying to get some school work done.

“Can’t do beauty standards, everyone’s gonna do beauty standards,” you yawned again, taking your fingers off the keyboard and turning your eyes away from the bright screen. Your eyes burned as you closed them, leaning your head back against the back of the folded futon. Another yawn. “Maybe books covers?” you breathed slowly. “Hmmm.”

On the other side of the door, Osamu wiped down the table seats and counters until they were spotless, letting the red vinyl and wood patterns shine through uninterrupted. As he cleaned the glass front, squeegeeing it to crystal clear perfection, Osamu watched as the last bit of sunlight that bounced off the top of the buildings across the street disappeared. It suddenly looked a lot colder in the streets.

Hanging up the damp towel, he made his way into the backroom, flicking off the lights in the main area as he walked through the door. “(Y/N) how’s the essay going?” he trailed off, catching sight of your curled up body lying sideways along the old couch, laptop continuing to play a soft tune.

You had one foot off the couch, touching the floor, and another resting on the wooden armrest. The open legged sweats you often wore were crunched up at the knees. Your torso was twisted so you were partially on your side and your hands were pulled into your chest. Mouth slightly parted, Osamu could hear your small breaths as your chest rose and fell.

He chuckled, walking over to your side, and glancing slightly to your screen. The essay you had been rushing to complete was left open, unfinished. He closed the computer, tucking it into your bag, pulling out a small notebook to make space. The bookmarked page fell open as he set in down on the table. With a curious huff, he read the recipe over.

“Huh, simple enough.”

As he reached to gently shake your shoulder in hopes to wake you up, he caught sight of the burn that ran along the back of your hand. Huffing, he lifted his hand, put the book back in its place —tucked between your laptop and the side of your bag—, and walked over to where the first aid kit was.

A scratchy hum was the first noise you made upon waking up. Bleary-eyed, and drained of energy, you slowly blink up to see your hand being gently wrapped in a soft cloth-like bandage. You squinted up to the black-clothed man as he fastened the bandage together.

“Did I really fall asleep?” you asked sadly, voice slightly hoarse. “I have to… write.”

The light in the room was dreadfully bright, making you squint as you tried to look at Osamu’s face. All his features were hard to see, leaving only his hair as an anchor point for you to admire as the light bounced off of it.

He said something, but in your delirious state, all you could make out was the smooth deep hum of his voice reverberating in your head like a slow waltz. You hummed again, letting out a lethargic ‘nice’. Your eyes shut again, and you drifted off to his low, breathy chuckle. An unconscious mumble followed, but you were too tired to hear his immediate response.

“Come on (Y/N),” he cooed, massaging your shoulder gently. “Time to wake up.”

Another incoherent mumble bubbled out of your mouth as Osamu tried to sit you up. Your head bobbled as you moved to be upright, falling backwards before he could catch it. Chuckling at his own mistake, he stuck an arm out, curling his hand around the back of your neck to bring it forward again. As he cradled your head gently in one hand, he used the other to continue prodding at your shoulder.

“Okay, sleepyhead. You gotta wake up now.”

There are those moments where people wake up and they think they see an alien, or shadowy figure at the edge of their bed. Those scary figures that seemed to carry a negative connotation a majority of the time. Most people, if they were to wake up, eyes fuzzy, and see a silhouette immediately before them they would very likely think the same, flail about, and duck for cover. You were not most people.

Eyelids hanging millimetres away from shutting, you gazed drowsily at the blurry from before you, tired mind trying to put together the dark shape as your body swayed back and forth. Falling forward slightly to get a closer look.

Osamu grunted slightly, catching your limp weight. The hand he used to rub your shoulder had now made its way around your back, lifting you from a different angle. His other hand still protected your neck from strain, holding your head closer to his chest. He looked down at your hazy gaze, perfectly timed with your own sudden need to lean upwards.

A near chortle of a huff forced its way out of Osamu’s nose, painting your cheek in warm air as your eyes shut fully. The feeling of your lashes dancing against the bridge of his nose tickled, making his shoulders scrunched up slightly. His grip tightened, pulling you ever so slightly closer. The light scent emitting off of your hair washed over him like a wave of fresh air, and the heat radiating off your body felt like a warm blanket on a cold night. There was a light tug at the end of his sweater as you wrapped the fabric gently between your fingers. Tough dried from being parted in your sleep, Osamu could feel the malleability of your lips as they pushed against his.

This one last surge forward, you let your arms relax, falling almost entirely limp in Osamu’s arms as you pulled away.

He blinked slowly, trying to look at the colour of your eyes between the slits of your lashlines.

Another warm hum left you was your head curled into his shoulder. “Cute.”

Osamu scoffed quietly to himself, laughing as he shook his head. “You never stop lying.”

Osamu liked to think he was a nice brother, a good brother, the best even. He kept his twin out of trouble, made sure he didn’t get injured and protected him from bullies. All for the payment of letting Osamu torment him for all eternity with repeated punches and kicks. Osamu liked to think he was a nice brother, but he wasn’t.

“Assumu, shut up or I’m gonna punch the daylight out of you.”

“Vulgar. That’s a new one, Samu. Try me.”

Hinata grabbed hold of the blond twin’s forearm as he made taunting motions to his brother, pinning it down onto the table. The smaller red-head cried out for the two brothers to stop, calling for Bokuto’s aid.

“Ya, both of you stop it. I’m trying to eat here.”

From behind his white mask, Sakusa let out an exasperated sigh, brushing a hand through his wavy hair at the part. “Would you all calm down?”

Atsumu teased out a laugh as he settled back into his seat between Hinata and Bokuto, who both happily went back to eating their donated snacks. The blonde leaned his elbows onto the counter and bounced a leg beneath him as he looked up to his uniform wearing brother.

“So,” he drawled, smirking at the grey-haired man. “You kissed (Y/N). While they were asleep no less. Doesn’t that seem kind of rapey to you?”

Osamu groaned, ripping the black cap off his head before throwing his arms into the air. “I didn’t force it! (Y/N) was hardly even awake, definitely in some sort of dreamscape, and then just kissed me.” He groaned again, knocking his forehead into one of the coffee machines, making it rattle lightly.

“Damn,” Atsumu replied, finally relenting his mockery and reached for his own onigiri. “Guess I lost my chance then. Do you know if they even remembered it though?”

Setting down his hat, Osamu walked around the counter, pulling up a chair from one of the tables to sit with the four teammates, making them spin in the stools.

“No idea. I just drove (Y/N) back to the university dorms with Taichi’s help.”

Bokuto’s muffled voice spoke up, as he tried to talk through his full mouth. “How is Taichi doing anyway. It’s been a while since we’ve seen him.”

Osamu grimaced at the visible mushed rice poking out between the duo-toned man’s teeth. “He had a project to finish, that’s why (Y/N) was here last night. Overall he’s been doing good though.”

Hinata swallowed his last bit of onigiri, turning the top of his stool to face the older man more clearly. “When will we get to meet (Y/N), then? We could probably see them both at the same time.”

Osamu scrunched his nose up, digging his face into the palms of his hands and let out a tired, run-down laugh. “Hopefully soon if I don’t get arrested for sexual misconduct.”

Sakusa glanced at the drink orders that were written in chalk against the side wall. “Hey Atsumu,” he switched the subject. “Can you make me a pumpkin spice latte?”

Sighing, the owner of the restaurant got up from his chair and walked back to the coffee machines he had earlier abused with his forehead. “I can give it a go, but it definitely won’t be up to (Y/N)’s standards.”

Sakusa just waved it off, not caring.

“I mean, they’re still bad, but at least they’re better than last time.”

You stopped your slow typing and let out a puff of hot air. “If you actually helped maybe you’d be eating better cookies.”

“Hey hey, no no no,” Taichi laughed, munching into another dry cookie from the pile. “You’re the one that wanted to learn a new skill.”

You threw your head back into the soft couch of your living room and grabbed one of the throw pillows from the corner, shoving your face into it to muffle your angered scream. Running out of air, you dropped the pillow into your lap, shutting your eye tightly as you panted for air.

“Here,” he said, stuffing one of the burnt biscuits into your open mouth. “Eat a cookie.”

Taking the box of poorly made cookies with him, Taichi stood up from the wooden bench at your kitchen counter and made his way to flop down onto the other side of your couch. He stuffed another straight into his mouth as he kicked his slipper clad feet onto the coffee table right next to your laptop.

“So, What’s got you all wound up? It has to be more than these cookies.”

“I,” you paused, taking a large intake of decaying leaf air into your lungs through the open window. You got up, wiping your hands on your well worn sweats, and shut the window lightly, so the only thing coming in though it would be the view of red leaves. The palms of your hands dug into the window sill. “I need to get this essay done. It’s due in two days.”

“Not buying it. Keep going,” he said, flicking his finger in a circular motion in the air.

You sighed, still looking at the old piles of leaves in the courtyard outside your dorm. “My baking skills still suck, this essay is due in two days, and I still haven’t written the personal reflection portion of it.” You spun around and leaned against the window, challenging Taichi’s disapproving expression.

He tsked, sucking in the air. “There’s something you're not telling me. What happened?”

You quickly diverted your gaze to the top corner near the exit. Your nails made a clicking sound as they flicked against each other. “I, I can’t.”

“(Y/N),” he strained.

“Nope.”

“(Y/N).”

“I can’t.” You played with the bandage on your hand.

“(Y/N). You’re lying to yourself.”

“I’m gonna get fired.”

Taichi stood up from the couch, stalking over in your direction, meaning to pin you into the corner. He stood tall in front of you, arm crossed as if he were a principal. “(Y/N), what happened?”

“I kissed our boss.”

“You did what?”

You squeaked uncomfortably, thrashing your arms about and shaking your hands to calm your nerves. Head thrown back, you yelled. “I kissed Osamu!”

His arm dropped. Taichi threw his back into a curve, spinning around as he laughed wildly in sharp honks. “That’s amazing!” he squealed, throwing himself onto the couch and kicking his feet into the plush armrest.

“Shut up, I could get fired!”

Taichi, gasping for air, sat up from his fit of giggles and sighed. “Okay, what the hell happened?”

You puffed out an annoyed gulp of air and waddled over to the couch, slumping into the open space next to him. He leaned forward, beckoning you to talk.

“I was half awake, delirious after trying to write an essay about fucking aesthetics and attraction of all things. Osamu tries to wake me up, and I plant a big one on him before falling asleep again.”

Taichi laughed, happy to hear your tale. “That’s what happened yesterday? I just thought you were overworked.”

“I was!” He smirked, watching you squirm around. “Don’t take it out of context, you know what I'm talking about.”

“Fine, fine.” He relented and reached for the half-empty box of cookies, holding it in your direction. “Eat one. You need it.”

You frowned as you bit into the over-salted cookie, swallowing it as fast as you could before the taste settled in your mouth.

“Besides,” He said, grabbing another for himself. “I don’t think getting fired is something you’ll have to worry about.”

Long night shift. The sun had fully set, making the neighbouring stores’ exterior decorations glow in all their spooky glory. You shivered as you yawned, feeling cold air run over the length of your shoulders underneath your sweater.

With a spray bottle and damp towel, you swiped down all the counters, really digging into the coffee stains that were left by an overworked mother and her grumpy toddler. For the umpteenth time that night, another yawn tore it’s way out of you as you walked toward the sink behind the counter to wash the dirtied cloth. You kept your bandaged hand out of the hot water, doing your best to just use the one.

After ringing out the both you grabbed one of the clean mugs from the counter, stalking over to the coffee machines to whip up something for yourself. You yawned again.

“Tired?” From the backroom, Osamu emerged, hands tucked neatly behind his back.

“Hmm? Oh ya. I’m whipping up a pumpkin spice mocha of sorts. Don’t want to fall asleep again.”

Osamu coughed and leaned against the counter next to you, setting down a small box that you didn’t bother to look at, too busy with your coffee. “Ah, right. Do you mind making one for me too? I’d like to be coherent, tonight. I’ll grab some fresh onigiri too.” He smiled at you.

Trying to beat the heat that was quickly climbing up your neck to try and darken the colour of your cheeks, you bit your lip and poured all your focus into the orange-hued liquid in front of you. Behind you, Osamu reached for the freshly made onigiri from the chilled display case. You could hear the fabric of his sweater shuffle as he bent down to pull it out. You reached for the whipped cream with your eye tightly sewn shut.

“Got it,” he said as you turned around with both mugs in hand.

Once in the back room, you set down both mugs onto the table, before sitting down in one of the corners of the futon, letting him take up the other half. Osamu sat down slowly, pushing the second onigiri your way. “Eat up. You can restore some energy.”

You thanked him before taking a bite from the rice ball, it was filled with spicy salmon. Smiling, you took another bite.

Osamu took a sip from his coffee, trying to lick off the leftover whipped cream from his upper lip. It looked like a small mustache, and you laughed.

“Enjoying the food, over there?”

You chuckled again. “It’s great, but. Jeez, you have a mustache.”

Osamu grumbled, whipping the top of his lip with his thumb. “Here,” he said, grabbing the small box off the table and holding it out to you. “These are for you.”

Setting down the half-eaten Onigiri, hesitantly took the box between your fingers. You gave him a confused look as you brought it into your lap. Lifting up the attached paper lid, you found yourself staring at a small collection of cookies, iced and cut to look like the adorable black jackal mascot from his brother's team.

“I saw the recipe in your notebook that...night. I wanted to make you something as an apology, and you said that the mascot was cute.” You looked up to see him scratched back of his head, staring pensively into his mug before glancing up to meet your eyes. He flinched back, pursing his lips and racing to look at the mug again.

“You don’t have to apologize, Osamu. I initiated it.” you reached into the box, pulling out one of the cookies and took a small bite out of the jackal’s ear. “I didn’t hate it either.”

You chuckled in embarrassment, watching from the side as his ears turned a rosy colour. Taking another bite from the cookie, you leaned forward a bit, trying to catch sight of his pink cheeks through his hanging fringe. You prodded.

“I did call you cute too, remember?”

Your fingers danced over your laptop’s keyboard.

I don’t often find myself thinking about the way aesthetics affect my opinions. Looks, trends, and opinions are always evolving and changing. I don’t have the capacity to keep up with such superficial things in the same way a majority of people do. Though, on a rare occasion, I will find something endearing enough to call ‘cute’. /

Outside your window, you could see the last few leaves fall off their branches. You sat down, curled up on your dorm’s couch as you saved the final copy of your essay, nibbling away at the cookies that sat on the table next to you, pumpkin spice latte in hand.

This is now the longest thing I’ve written thus far, and so the next few I write will be short cause I’m lazy.

Once again, this oneshot is part of a fall themed server collab, the masterlist is linked at the top, so I recommend that you give all the other stories a read, I would appreciate it. -Bacon

Posted: 25/09/2020

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mylovelyladywhumps · 3 years

Text

I hate that I forget about this blog and how much I just reblog so I’m gonna upload some of my own stuff sporadically :3

I had to get myself away from writing dadzawa or that's all I would ever write, so I made a dadmight whump fic and made it even more sad than I'd originally intended, so let's start with that one! Under the cut :P- *uhhhh CW for blood, allusion to broken necks and bones, and Character Death

*This is part of a oneshot AU I have planned where Toshinori does actually have his own quirk (not OfA) but it doesn’t activate until he gets really, really angry. Like, some serious levels of anger here. That’s why you get all the muscle rippling at the beginning lol. Also yeah I tend to start my oneshot drafts in medias res so idk just imagine a generic villain scenario and pretend that I came up with something interesting*

*alright let’s go. Toshi’s POV*

Izuku’s fearful shout permeated his clouded mind, and there was a snap somewhere deep in Toshinori’s soul. He could feel it. It held the same energy as the final drop of a guillotine blade, or the downward swing of a headsman’s axe.

His organs felt like they were shifting, moving out of the way for something else to come, and his heart dropped hard like the strings that suspended them had been cut. His hands clenched and wouldn’t release, the muscles ever tightening with the sensation of a can being compressed.

Toshinori wasn’t seeing red. He was seeing gray. He was seeing the outline of his kid- his boy -held aloft by the outline of the villain’s murderous hands-

CRACK

Then Toshinori was gone.

“NO!”

Moving faster than any living thing, Toshinori collided with his target and ripped Izuku out of his grasp.

He didn’t stop to consider how it was possible. All the space in his mind was taken up by two thoughts: his boy was in danger, and he’d be damned if he didn’t save him.

Toshinori held Izuku by the waist with one arm and barrelled through the villain with his shoulder. His arms burned, but they didn’t hurt. They burned with the fire of his anger, and his muscles rippled underneath the skin, surrounding his bones like solid lead around a steel frame.

His back roiled, and Toshinori bellowed at the sensation of the bones and muscles superheating and solidifying like liquid metal. His body rocked with the shockwaves and made him stumble, but his grip on his boy was absolutely unyielding.

The villain was winded, and he hacked on phlegm and air, his nose pressed into the dirt. Toshinori spared him no more than a glance before he put all of his attention onto his charge, disregarding the spasms of his muscles and the hot throbbing in his bones.

Izuku was nearly unconscious. Nearly, because his green eyes were slits, and he looked to be at least partially aware. He couldn’t keep Toshinori’s gaze for very long, and he was trembling like a small pebble during an earthquake, making small, abrupt gasping noises as he did.

His neck was red swollen, clearly to become a blackened purple before the day was out, if he made it that long. There was blood under his fingernails and caking into his hair, and speckles of it could be seen on the inside ring of his lips, sprinkling more with every wheezy exhale he managed to make.

As gentle as he could, Toshinori brushed Izuku’s bangs away from his face, cradling the back of his head with his other hand, blood seeping through the spaces between his fingers. He kept his neck still and straight as he physically could; without a brace to keep him stable, not knowing if that snap was Izuku’s neck, Toshinori was on his own.

“Izuku,” Toshinori breathed. “Izuku. Look at me. Look at me, my boy. Come on, kid. Come on! Please!”

He didn’t dare to try and pat the boy’s face to gain his attention; he was too terrified of disrupting the delicate balance of life he’d managed to achieve, too scared to send his boy into shock.

Izuku didn’t respond well. He tried to look at Toshinori, but his gaze just wasn’t strong enough to hold. His eyes were too dull, Toshinori noted with the cold rail spike of panic that drove itself straight through his chest. Too dull, too close to losing that spark of light that Toshinori had fallen in love with. Too narrow for him to see that wide-eyed, bright, adoring gaze that had become Izuku’s trademark.

“You’re okay, my boy, you’re okay. You’ll be okay,” Toshinori whispered to himself under the presupposition that Izuku would hear it. “I’ve got you, son. I promise. I promise, Izuku.”

Aside from a sluggish, delayed blink, Izuku didn’t otherwise react. Toshinori pet his hair with one hand and supported his head with the other, and both hands quickly became sodden with blood. Head wounds bleed a lot, he knew, but he didn’t know if they should be bleeding this much.

“I need an ambulance!” Toshinori came to his senses and screamed at the top of his lungs to anyone who would listen. “I need an ambulance! He needs help!”

“Yagi!” Someone screamed. He didn’t know who. Didn't care who.

Izuku blinked again. Slower.

Then his mouth opened to expose the blood that had been pooling from his split tongue and he choked, spraying his lips and flecking red onto Toshinori’s face.

“T-...T-”

“Shhh!” Toshinori hushed him, harsher than he'd meant to and too scared to control his volume. “Shhh, Izuku. Don’t- don’t try to speak, kid. I’m getting you help. Help’s coming, help’s coming my boy. Don’t-”

Izuku hacked again, harder. Wetter. Toshinori stopped his rambling and tried to prop him up so he wouldn’t suffocate. When Izuku started gagging, Toshinori rushed to tilt him on his side so he could let the bubbling blood drool out of Izuku’s mouth, staining the filthy ground red.

“That’s okay, kid. It’s okay. Let it out, let it out,” Toshinori whispered to him. “Help is coming. You’ll feel better soon. Just hold on for a little while longer, my boy. A little while longer.”

He didn’t know when. He knew someone had to have heard his cry, but Toshinori was still terrifyingly alone, desperately holding onto the fragile life of his favorite person.

With his waning strength, before Toshinori could stop him, Izuku lifted his trembling hand. He didn’t lift it high, and he moved slow, but he brought it closer and closer to his own head.

Toshinori assumed he was in pain, trying to stave it off, and almost took Izuku’s hand to bring it back down until he saw his boy take a handful of his damp green curls and tug.

Then Toshinori realized.

“Damn it Izuku, no!” He snatched Izuku’s hand from his hair and held it tight, as tight as he dared. “How could you-? Why are you-? D-don’t worry about the damn quirk! How-How can you even think about the quirk while you...y-you're...”

Toshinori didn’t complete his sentence. He refused.

Because his boy was dying.

“Oh God, Izuku,” Toshinori sobbed. “Izuku, don’t- just hang on, Izu. Please, hang on for All Might, kid. Please, please don’t go.”

Izuku didn’t appear to hear him, but his lips moved delicately, wasting his precious energy in forming words that Toshinori couldn’t make out. Drops of water splashed onto Izuku’s bloodied face and Toshinori startled when he thought it had started to rain.

It hadn't. Toshinori had just started to cry.

Izuku made another choked noise, and Toshiori shushed him weakly once more. His voice gave out underneath him, reducing his pleas to weak whispers.

“Shh, shhh, shhh, I’m here. All Might’s here, bud. “Toshinori threw caution to the wind and lifted his boy’s body- not a body yet. He’s not a body yet -onto his lap. He held Izuku like a child, cradling his head and neck and hugging his boy close. “I’ve got you, my boy. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.”

Toshinori could only wonder where the days had gone where he could just proclaim those words and everything in the world would right itself.

The cold fist of fear that had been squeezing around his heart clenched hard when Izuku jerked. He jerked like he had been electrocuted, a gargled cough catching in his throat and more blood draining from his mouth. He jerked again. His legs and arms were taut and freezing cold. He was still breathing; how, Toshinori had no idea, but the frigid, black feeling in his gut told him that he wouldn’t be for long.

Toshinori held tight to Izuku as he seized. He kept his neck as straight as he could, whispering nothing and giving him impossible promises, sobbing all the while.

He hadn’t felt this way when Nana died. His heart had broken, and the world became a bleak, dull color for a long time after. But it hadn’t left him feeling so shattered. Like the fiber of his being was being ripped apart. Like his heart had shriveled and died in his chest. Like every hopeless, terrified sob ripped his soul out.

Watching his successor, his pride and joy, his boy, fall apart in his hands...nothing could compare. Not a single thing

Izuku started to hiccup in his seizure, and his hands flailed out for the first time, seeking for something or someone to grab and anchor himself to life, and Toshinori grabbed him and held him.

He held him. That was all he could do. He held him tight and listened to the stutter of his chest and watery lungs, soothing him and telling him he was okay. He wasn’t. And he knew that Izuku knew that. But he refused to acknowledge any other outcome.

Toshinori gave up on waiting for help. If it was coming, it would have been there by then. All that was left now was…

Izuku opened his eyes one more time and met Toshinori face to face, still jolting and caught in the throes of his coughing. Toshinori was weeping openly, letting his tears fall onto Izuku’s face, making all of his comforting attempts worthless.

Izuku’s lips moved some more. Whispering. The last of his breath was being wasted on something Toshinori couldn’t hear, and his heart was too empty to feel frustrated or angry with him.

He didn’t need to hear him after all, it seemed. Toshinori could read his lips clearly.

‘I love you’

“Oh,” Toshinori croaked. “Oh, my boy, my precious boy, I-I...I...I love you. I love you too. My boy, I love you so much, please, oh please.”

Izuku wasn’t looking at him anymore. His eyes were still open, and his chest moved the bare minimum, but his eyes, like flickering candle lights, had moved to the dying sky above Toshinori’s head.

“My boy, my Izuku, please, please, stay with me.”

Izuku’s lips stopped moving. He blinked once, and it lasted long enough to nearly cause Toshinori to throw up before he opened his eyes again.

“No, no, no, please. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me! IZUKU!”

The light went out.

Toshinori screamed.

*Tell me what you think! Thanks for reading. Sry if Toshi's OOC I just really like the drama and I find my whumperflies in dialogue uwu. If you have any suggestions on my writing lmk, I love to learn and I want to grow as much as I can :3* *also the person that shouted Toshi's name in the story was Aizawa, but he was busy with other villains and couldn't get over to help. This is covered in the full story which has not been written lol*

*My AO3 name is MatryoshkaDoll413 if you're curious about my published works*

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megastarstriker · 4 years

Text

{𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫}

~Nikki Sixx x reader~

======================

★Prologue★

“Pilot: When L.A. Burns”

Part 2

====================================

< Prologue (Part 1)

Warnings: Cussing, suggestive jokes, slight angst and mention of violence

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Nikki Sixx x Female Reader

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩:

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: When her step-brother and ex-roommate ,Casey Jensen(Cage), decides to leave home to go to L.A. and form a band. Although hesitant, she decides to take his invitation to go with him to escape her alone and pain-in the-ass life behind. Looking back as she leaves, she wonders if she made the right decision or if she should go back.( I don’t own Mötley Crüe or the actors used in this story, I only own the plot and the band characters I made up. This book and maybe for the entirety of it, will be based off and detailed from the books the Dirt and the Heroin Diaries. Some lines are used from the movie the Dirt, all of these books or movie lines that I mentioned that I will use for the story belong to their creators.)

Taglist: @leatherandheels @xxqueencolourxx @suranne-doesstuff @littlemisscare-all , @niksixx, @nikkisiexx, @nikki-fucking-sixx @prettyyoungandbored @matchaandhoney @savannahgrace98, @metalheartofgold, @dustnbones , @sikinikx, @seventieshead-modernlover, @tbonelee, @mrsixx, @queen-crue, @mikaiya1313, @ginny-rose-sixx, @bus-jackson,

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED TO THIS STORY WITH AN ASK MESSAGE 💕

𝙆𝙚𝙮𝙨:

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

(N/N) - Nickname

(S/C) - Skin Color

(E/C) - Eye Color

(H/C) - Hair Color

(H/L) - Hair Length

(F/S) - Favorite Shirt

(F/F) - Favorite Food

(F/D) - Favorite Drink

(L/C) - Lipstick Color

(F/A) - Favorite Animal

Characters:

BEN HARDY as CASEY CAGE

MÖTLEY CRÜE as THEMSELVES

WILLIAM FICHTNER as ROBERT JENSEN

___________________________________________________

=================================================

1978, L.A. - Whiskey -a- Go Go, Backstage.

“You’re out of the band”, The man said simply as he was holding a cigarette to his lips as he looked at a young man with messy blonde hair and deep blue eyes. Holding the guitar in his hand, he gripped tightly as he looked at the guy who gave him the news as he stood there, still smoking his cigarette,” You’re obviously not cut out for this. Too slow and too much of a waste if we kept you.”

Casey stood there with a shocked, yet pissed look at the man as the sharp and hurting words reached his ears. He turned his attention to the other members who didn’t speak up or anything and simply just minded their own business.” So this is how it is then.”, Casey said as he looked down, trying so hard not to punch the asshole that took him off the band he formed,” Alright. I see. If you’re gonna seriously take someone of the band it should be yourself you fucking asshole.”

“We don’t need you anymore. We already found another guitarist.”

“Look if you’re gonna whine like a baby. Do it outside.”, The other man, with brunette hair and who was next to the guy said in a pissed manner as he approached him. Holding his hands out as he shoved and pushed him away in a rude manner.,” Back off.”

Casey took this as offense and punched him in the center of his face. When this occurred the brunette and him started to fight each other punch after punch and kick after kick, as the others were alerted immediately and tried to get them from each others claws and from killing each other.

As they separated the brunette from the blonde on the floor, Casey’s lip had a tear, that started drip with blood and the side of his eye had an ugly bruise, but it wasn’t any prettier for the guy standing above him who was being restrained by two other men. His nose was busted, and blood was slowly trailing from underneath it towards his lips as it reached down his chin, in a brutal manner.

Casey then stood up from the ground, slightly wincing in pain as he held his side, looking at the men with a furious gaze. If looks could kill those men would be dead in the most gruesome way possible, like a tiger ripping a part its prey. “ What the fuck is wrong with you?!”, one of the members shouted at him.

He stood up as he tried his best to not limp, looking at the members, his brows still furrowed at them as he looked at his bruised knuckles.” I’ll tell you what’s fucking wrong. I quit!! ”

He then took the strap of his guitar and swung it to the wall, smashing and breaking it in half. He then threw the broken neck of the guitar that was still in his hands and threw it above the group.

“So Fuck you and go to hell with you all!!”

“Because you’ve just lost yourself a musician who can actually play unlike the rest of you cunts.”

He then looked at the lead singer who was behind the guy with the broken nose.

“Just so were clear....”

He then took a glass cup with a few drops of whiskey and threw it at the guy a few inches away from him. Smashing at the wall behind him with a clear shatter.

“Your singing sucks balls!”

He then exited the room before taking the bottle of Jack Daniels with him and leaved the area outside. It was cold and dark, neon lights illuminating the streets, with crowds of people in every corner in the Sunset Strip. There was many people around him doing a load of crazy sort of things. Whether it was smoking, doing drugs, drinking, or having sex it didn’t matter. He was now busy in trying to figure out how to tell (Y/N) about the fact that he was out of the band.

“Shit, I seriously fucked up now. Didn’t I?”, He said under his breath as the wind flew past him, brushing few of his messy strands to the side of his face.,” Fuck!”

He grabbed at his hair in frustration as he cursed at himself. He thought about how you would feel about all of this. If she would be angry or sad? or worse? He was supposed to be the responsible sibling and friend. Yet, here he was messing everything up for the both of you. Ever since that day... when they both made that deal. He promised himself and mainly to her, he would try his best to make a living together, and never break it. He didn’t want her to leave back to they’re parents. They were bad people. He knew it and he knows she knew it too. But she was very sympathetic, always ignoring the bad and trying to change it for the good. That’s how she managed to even befriend him.

Thinking about you now that the show was finished, Casey then decided to enter the bar once again as he finished getting his stuff packed. Not wasting, anytime he finished the beer he took from the backstage and threw it on the ground, disposing of it. He knew you were waiting in there, as he saw you watching the gig at a distance swaying a bit to the music. So that’s what he did, he went inside the bar and just like that....

════ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ════

“Get the hell off of me!”, I yelled at the guy who was obviously shitfaced from too many drinks. I tried my best to be polite to the guy and told him I wasn’t interested, but he wasn’t having any of it apparently. So here I was in the most horrible situation any girl could ever be in.” Let me go, Damnit!”

I said as I repeatedly slapped his gripping hand from mine, only to figure out it only made him grip it much tighter. Knowing it wasn’t working I took the opportunity and used the heel on my boot and with whatever force I could muster brought it down to his foot and squished it.

“You Little Bitch!”, The man shouted in a groan filled with pain from the impact on his foot I gave him. In one swift movement he slapped me with his free hand, causing me to stumble and fall on the floor as I held my burning cheek that stung, making me wince by just touching it. “Now you’re really gonna get it.”, He said in a menacing tone as he stood above and towered over me, making me feel cornered with no way out. I ,of course, started to panic and without thinking I quickly kicked him in the groin. Causing him to bend down and grab it in pain, I tried scooting myself away from him and try to stand up. But as soon as I did, the guy just grabbed me by my neck and propped me against the wall. Alarmed and extremely anxious, I started to breath heavily as tears started to brink at my eyes. I tried clawing at his hand that was gripping slowly at my neck. “P-please stop!”, I said loudly and a bit out of breath from the pressure at my throat.

“Listen here. You can cry and shout all you want girly, but no ones gonna hear ya. Got it.”, He whispered lowly and uncomfortably next to my ear, causing me to gag at the strong smell of booze coming from him,” So why don’t you be good girl and shut that pretty mouth of yours.”

“The hell’s going on here?”, A voice said from nearby, from a slight glimpse I could see a young lean and tallish man with long, brown and slightly curly hair, wearing a leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt with leopard printed pants that looked a bit small on him. The guy had this look of suspicion, but then changed as he saw what really was going on. “Hey! Back off you’re hurting her!”, the guy said.

But the man didn’t do anything I looked at the young brown-haired guy with a pleading look as tears stained my reddish cheeks. “ I said let her go you jackass!”

Suddenly, as if a miracle just happened I caught a glimpse of blonde hair rushing behind the drunk man who was gripping my neck harshly, and felt his weight pressed against me disappear as he was pulled and ripped away from me. I then fell on the floor as his hand lost its grip and coughed a bit violently as I breathed the air heavily. I then noticed someone else punching one of the men who assaulted me, along with the blonde guy who had the shitfaced guy pressed up against the wall.

Casey...

“Is that how you treat a chick you fucking asshole”, Casey sneered at the guy as he kicked the guy on his side. The guy that was being brutally kicked and punched by him shuffled away from him as Casey panted.

Slowly, I started having a panic attack as tears started to drip from my eyes, I then felt two hands grip my shoulders softly, and as I traced them they belonged to the guy who tried helping me. My (E/C) irises locked with soft hazel ones as they traced my terrified and teary eyed ones in concern. He then put his hands on my face gently and gingerly, causing me to flinch at the contact, not only because it was from a complete stranger, but because of the bruise I had that lingered on my cheek.

“H-Hey, are you okay.”, He asked me as he looked at my face, a bit out of breath as he scanned my face to look for any injuries. He then noticed me wince as he made little pressure with his soft hands on my cheek. He then left his hands of my face as he held them up slightly in defense and mumbled a little ‘sorry’ that sounded genuine and quite sheepish. “ I just want to make sure you’re okay, Dude. I’m not gonna hurt you like that shit-faced guy did, Okay.”

I nodded silently and whispered an ‘okay’ completely trusting him as I was still quite traumatized and panicked with what just happened. I then saw Casey from the corner of my eyes as he looked at me. His baby blue eyes that were fused with rage and anger turning into concern and worrisome as he rushed over towards me before turning to the other guy.

“Are you another one of those assholes!”, He shouted at him as he raised his fist up his whole body leaning over his sitting figure.

“Woah, Chill man! I didn’t try to do anything to her I swear, Dude.”, He replied as he held his hands up slightly to tell him that he wasn’t part of the almost sex assault that just happened,” I just saw the chick getting strangled by the guy and sort of kicked his ass for it, but that’s it!”

Casey then as he still held his fist to the guy, turned his eyes to me for confirmation and I slowly nodded a ‘yes’ towards him. He then lowered his fist and backed away slowly from my ‘savior’. Casey then went to my side and reached over to look at my face and noticed the marks on my neck and cheek,” That fucker.” he muttered harshly under his breath with furrowed brows as he gulped slowly at the lump in his throat.

“Thank you”, I told the guy as he looked between me and Casey.

“Its cool, someone had to step in to teach those men a lesson, and with the many punches we gave to those dickhead’s....”, He replied as he made a punching motion as if he were boxing in a comedic manner, ”They’ll never wanna come back now and mess with us.”

I laughed a bit with a wince as he did that.” You’re not a boxer.”

“Whose to say that? You never know what’s under these fucking fists.” He replied with a grin as he held his fist up in a fighting stance.

I chuckled again at his goofy manner as he joined in along with my brother who was trying so hard to keep a bold hard face, but couldn’t from how ridiculous the guy was being and so he joined in the laughter.

“Name’s Tommy Bass, but my friend’s call me Tommy”, the guy said as he held his hand out in a greeting and friendly fashion.

“(Y/N)”, I answered as I held his hand shaking it softly. The guy named Tommy seemed very enthusiastic and excited in his own childish but cute way.

He then looked to my brother over my shoulder while he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, sitting next to me in the ground.” Casey Cage, but Casey is just fine.”, Casey simply said followed with a sigh.

“Rad name. You were also pretty fucking hardcore, by the way when you kicked that guy in the nuts, you really showed him.”, Tommy complimented with a happy smile as he then went to fumble something on his pocket and took it out to reveal a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. My brother in return just shrug his shoulders, like he didn’t really care whether he thought it was cool or not, but the smile on his face proved he was kind of happy to hear it.,

We all talked for a few hours making me feel more calm and relaxed and a whole lot stressed from what just happened a few moments ago.

“ Look I know we just got out of some messed up shit, but I was thinking maybe we could all go down to the diner down the street and hang out there. It’ll cool things down, lighten the mood Y’know. They’ve got some killer pancakes too. That’s if you dudes are cool with it.”

I laughed softly at Tommy’s adorable behavior, and thought about what he said for a moment. To be honest, it was a great idea. The last thing I wanted to think about was getting almost raped and my virginity away by those bastards. It’ll calm me down from my anxious and shocked state. Besides, Casey being there it will make me feel safer. His suggestion was all for good intentions too and he did save my life it was the least I could do. Plus, he seemed pretty friendly, and I want to get to know him better. After all, he did just comfort me and beat the guy’s ass and teeth off.” Well, I am kind of hungry and I think you are pretty cool. Sure. Lead the way.”

“Okay then, Let’s go.”, Tommy cheered as he stood up and took the cigarette out of his mouth for a moment, letting the smoke leave his rosy lips, before putting it back on his mouth, giving me a tight-lipped smile that adorned his face very nicely, the sense of its comfort making me smile as well.

Casey gave me and Tommy a face that read “seriously” to us both, as he raised an eyebrow.

“What?”, Tommy and I said in unison as we looked at him in confusion, as we started to walk away from the cramped and dark alleyway, that had barely any light.

“Nothing.”, Casey replied as he shook his head in disbelief as he uncrossed his arms, letting them fall gently at his side, as he let his back scoot away from the wall and walked towards us, dusting his pants of as he did. Following Tommy, we walked side by side all three of us on the sidewalk of the street.

A few moments passed and it was somewhat quite. Awfully quiet. I thought of asking Casey about his broken lip and his bruised eye, but I somehow decided against it. I knew it couldn’t have been from the fight, being that he didn’t get punched rather he was the one who attacked first.’ Did something happen to him while he was backstage?’ I thought as I pondered a bit over that fact. I knew he was perfectly fine with defending himself and standing strong, being that he did just punched that bastard and he has been in many fight in the past. But as his closest friend and only sibling, I couldn’t help but feel a bit worried about him. Sure he was sometimes a jerk and all, he sometimes got himself into trouble, but still...

“So, what kind of music do you like?”, Tommy asked breaking me from my thoughts and the ice that was growing between us as we walked quietly, his bright eyes met mine,” Rock ‘N’ Roll?”

“Yeah, we listen to rock n roll. Both of us.”, I answered with a sweet smile as I gestured to Casey who was walking silently beside us both, his shoes grazing the pavement beneath him with each step, limping slightly as he did.

“Really?! Sick!”, He replied as he held a rock sign on his hand with a joyful grin on his lips, ”What bands do you listen to?”

“We listen to AC/DC, Kiss, Queen, Black Sabbath, The Rolling Stones, and a whole lot more than I can count.”, I laughed a bit as I listed.

“Nice, What’s your favorite. Mine’s is KISS, their music is fucking fire.”, He said in a almost awed manner as he talked about them.

“Well, I think every band has their own charm and flaw that makes them unique and a favorite to everyone. But since you asked, I love AC/DC.”

“Not Bad, babes. I think their pretty sweet too.”, He said as he glanced out at me through the corner of his eye, as he smoked his cigarette.

As we were approaching the diner up ahead, a few drops of what appear to be rain came to fall from the late midnight sky, wetting my jacket a bit. Tommy and Casey noticed it too as they felt the raindrops that turned into almost pouring water to fall on their dry heads.

“Last one to the diner is an old chicken!”, Tommy yelled as he ran his fast legs carrying him to the diner. His hair flying behind him as he ran like crazy as if his life depended on it.

“No fair! You got a head start.”, I yelled as I laughed a bit, running behind Tommy, as Casey started to run beside me, the rain pouring down to the grown and underneath our feet each second.

“Slowpoke!”, He yelled back as he kept running at a fast pace, reaching the diner’s doors. He held his arms wide in the air, as he released two rock signs on both of his hands.

I then stopped running as I stood in front of Tommy, Casey right beside me, holding his mouth as he tried not to laugh at my tired expression.

“Finally, for a second I thought you were gonna be last!”, Tommy laughed out as he held the door to the diner.

“What is that suppose to mean?”, I asked in a sassy remark with my arms crossed as I furrowed my brows.

“Ooh, Cocky are we?”, He replied as he held the door for me with a grin,” Ladies first.”

“Asshole”, I muttered lowly but a bit louder enough so he can hear me, as I tried to suppress a growing grin on my face.

Looking at inside the diner, it was pretty much packed with a lot of people in different booths. Luckily there was an empty one from between a couple of ones that were full. We took a seat on the empty booth, Casey went on the front, inside as I followed and entered on the edge of the seat, Tommy sitting across from us both and waited until the waitress came to take our order.

The place was loud and filled with chattering as the people around us talked, the only ones quiet and waiting patiently was us. Tommy was impatiently tapping his foot on the ground like a little kid waiting for the school bell to ring for the end of school, while Casey with a bored look took a napkin from the tabletop napkin holder, rolled it up a bit. As he held his nose with one hand, leaning his head back, and with the other placed the rolled up napkin inside, as hints of blood started to drip from underneath his bruised nose.

“Damn, that nose looks seriously fucked up. Did you get into a fight with someone?”, Tommy asked directly at Casey as he looked at my brother’s wound on his lip, nose, and on the side of his eye, hissing at the sight. Casey simply turned his head away as he dabbed the napkin into his lip holding it in place to stop the bleeding, ignoring his comment as he simply didn’t want to talk about it, avoiding his question. Tommy took this as away to not lead that conversation forward and simply dismiss it, as he leaned his upper half body on the table, both of his arms standing and laying on it for support as he scratched his head, while his head was turned away to look at something else.

Then as if it were a miracle, the waitress came and stood before us. Tommy instantaneously sat up as he looked at the young attractive waitress that was holding a small notepad and pen in her hand. “May I take your order?”

“I’ll have Blueberry Pancakes, please and maybe something a little extra...”, He replied to the waitress as he flirted with her. Getting the message, the waitress simply rolled her eyes at him and looked towards the both of us, awaiting our order so she can write it down.

“Umm..”, I tried to think as I looked at the menu that was placed in front of me,” a (F/F) and (F/D) would be nice.”

Then the lady looked towards my brother, in which in return he stared at her, while she tapped her foot at the outside corner of the table.

“I’ll have a Jack-”Casey managed to say, before I stomped his foot that was next to mine from underneath the table, not letting him finish his sentence at all.

“A coke, please.”, I replied sweetly as I turned to Casey, who was pissed at me for not letting him speak to the lady and order what he really wanted.

The lady then nodded to us as she then flipped the page on her notepad and wrote, what I assumed was our orders.

“Your order will be out shortly.”, She said as she placed the pencil to her ear with a hand on her hip, as she finished writing and closed the notepad,” In the meantime, I’ll bring you guys some water while you wait.”

“Thank You.”, I said to her as she hummed in response as she left the table.

Once she was out of ear shot, Casey then spoke out,” What the hell was that for?”

“You’re not drinking. Especially, when you are gonna be the one driving the van.”, I whispered-shouted at him.

He then rolled his eyes at me and simply answered,” I wasn’t gonna get wasted like that.”

“I know, but still...”, I told him as I looked down at my lap fiddling with my fingers and my hands.

I then pressed the jacket closer to my neck trying to cover the slightly marked bruise spot there, so no one can get the wrong idea of one of the boys hurting me in any way. The world seem around us seem to move on, except for us three who where still sitting in awkward silence.

“Here”, The woman who was first attending us brought us our water,” I’ll come again when your order is ready.”

Placing the tray in front of us and then putting the glasses of water in front, she then left as she took the tray along with her.

Casey then took the water as he drank from it. I on the other hand played around with the straw inside the glass. While Tommy, was surprisingly quiet this whole time, probably feeling a bit awkward. Who am I kidding? This was awkward. We were all feeling awkward.

“So...”, Tommy started to say as he drummed his fingers on the table, pursing his lips as he tried to think of something to say, with slightly wide eyes as he looked at the table as if it were the only interesting thing right now.,” Are you guys....like a thing?”

Casey as he heard that choked on the water that he was drinking, that was brought to us on the table by the waitress as we waited for our food, and holding the napkin he had on his nose that was keeping it from bleeding in surprise, making him cough as he tried to compose his fit, his eyes watering and wide as he covered his mouth with his left arm.

“You okay?”, He asked worriedly as he watched him coughing. I looked at him as well, a hand resting on his shoulder as I tapped it gently.

Casey then in a raspy voice managed to say ‘I’m good’ as he let out a few coughs, before he finally finished.

“We...aren’t a couple.”, I responded Tommy’s question,” We’re related to each other” .In which he let out an ‘Oh’ in response, as he realized.

“Sorry, It’s just. You guys fight like an old married couple. It sorta gave me the idea you both were hooking up or dating, some shit like that.”, Tommy said laughing a bit, as he said that.

“No we are not.”, I said as I laughed a bit too, nervously.,” But you do have the arguing part, down right.”

I then looked around the place of the diner a bit as I watched people eating or just talking.

“This place is really nice, I didn’t think there was a diner near the bar we were just at.”, I said with a smile as I looked at Tommy.

“I know, right. I usually come here often after I watch a few of the gigs down at that bar,. Speaking of which...Care to tell me what a pretty chick like you was doing in a place like that?”, Tommy asked out of nowhere curiously, as he sat across me from the both we were in, trying to be flirty but at the same time to not be awkward.

“Umm, I was seeing him play, his gig, at.. the bar ,‘Whiskey-a-Go Go’.”, I replied nervously, pointing at Casey as I stared at Casey through the corner of my eyes and explained to Tommy,” He invited me to come see his show.”

“Oh, Now that you mention it....Wait a minute! I think I’ve seen you before”, Tommy said as he looked at my brother with furrowed brows, squinting his eyes and pointing at him as he tried remembering something,” No fucking way! You’re the dude that played that rad guitar solo onstage at the Whiskey.”

“Yeah, So?”, He asked slightly annoyed and defensive, I elbowed him gently as I glared at him at the corner of my eyes, trying to remind him to be nice.

“What you did onstage was so awesome. You had the whole audience begging on their fucking knees for more!.”, He said followed with a laugh as he finished his sentence.

“Well, some of them didn’t think so. Those crackheads kicked me out of their shit-show. We’re done and over with. Couldn’t be more happier about it.”, He replied lowly, mumbling the last sentence to himself, as he looked down at the napkin that he pressed on his lip, that was stained with dried blood as it trickled a bit from his torn lip.

“Dude! That’s definitely their damn loss, they are seriously gonna miss out on your skills. What you did was pretty badass. The show, not the nose, but...the Nose looks pretty badass too.”

“Yeah, the singer was such an ass.”, Casey replied in a muffle as he held the blood stained napkin in his fingers, pressed against his mouth and nose.

“Yeah I saw the banter that happened onstage. Hey, fuck him, though. He deserved it. Besides, he wasn’t much of a good one any ways.”, He said with sincerity as he looked towards my brother and then to me.

“He is right, you know. You were pretty good up there.”, I said

I nodded at him with a smile, as Casey looked towards Tommy a small smile starting to reach on his lips, but silently dismissed it as he downed more of the clear liquid from his glass of water and turned his head away from him.

“Do you play in a band?”, I asked Tommy as I drank from my still full water on the table.

“Not at the moment, But I’m planning on joining a band called ‘Suite 19′. I’m gonna be their new drummer.”, He said taking out from his belt, in what looked like to be drumsticks,” That’s when the guys decide to kick the other guy out. I talked to them about it too, But I don’t know. They are still kind of thinking about it.”

Casey then looked at him with furrowed brows as he saw the drumsticks he was carrying.” Do you carry those with you, everywhere you go?”

“Yeah.”, He said as he began to play around with his drumstick in his hand, twirling them around in a very fast motion, without making a mistake as to drop it.

“That’s great. Casey also knows how to play the drums.”, I said as he kept twirling them at a quick pace keeping his gaze at us.

“Nice. Does that mean you can do stuff like this?”, He said as he began to do many twirls around his fingers with the drumstick, in different movements all in one hand. Only for him to drop them by accident as he made the drumsticks stop turning around and rested them on his hand. Leaning down to pick them up from the ground as he muttered ‘shit’ under his breath silently.

“Huh. Not bad. Where’d you learn to do that?”, Casey asked Tommy as he kept twirling his drumsticks between his fingers.

“I’ve been practicing since I was three. Also, High school marching band. ”, He said with a sigh and laugh as he stopped twirling his drumsticks, letting them fall on the table gently, as he gave us a tight lipped smile.,” Hey, but I rock too.”

Casey looked down at the table shaking his head as he let out a chuckle to escape his mouth followed by a smirk.” Yeah, I can see that.”

Then from a distance the woman held a tray of our order towards us. She held it down on the table. and passed each of our plates in front of us. Afterwards, she placed an icepack right next to me and my food on the table. I then looked towards her only for her to respond, “Its for the bruise. It will help with the swelling. Enjoy the food, hon.”

She then left leaving me shocked and a bit happy as I thanked her shyly for the ice pack, I then placed the small ice pack around my neck, tensing at the coldness of it coming into contact with my stinging skin that still hurt quite a bit from earlier. A few moments later though I relaxed as I adjusted to the feeling.

“You seriously eat that at this time?”, I heard Casey asked Tommy from beside me.

“Yeah, I mean its Pancakes. Nothing is late ”, He said as he started to take a bite of the delicious and warm stack of pancakes.

“I know that, but Don’t you think its a bit late for that?”, I asked him with a laugh.

“Hey, food isn’t late for anything, especially Pancakes. Besides, they taste fucking amazing.”, He said a bit muffled as he started eating his Pancakes with a smile, like a kid eating a sweet treat.

“Yes, we fucking now that by now. Now can we please just eat, right now”, Casey said as he laughed afterwards a small smile on his face.

“Okay, Geez....”, I replied with a tiny laugh.

We all three laugh together, as we talked and talked, while we ate. The mood was comfortable and relaxing. Everyone was having a good time, even Casey surprisingly as well. But then it was already time to go as we finished eating our food and I checked the time on my watch.

“Anything else, you want?”, The lady prior to coming at our table with our orders said, as she stood in front of us.

“No just the check. I’ll pay”, Casey spoke as he looked at the lady in front of us taking out his wallet from his jacket’s pocket.

She nodded and went to the cash register at the front, passing around a group of people behind it. We then left the booth, and approached the register as Casey paid for the food. Afterwards, we left the place walking on the streets.

“So, what did you guys think?”, He asked as he walked beside us.

“It was nice. you’re pretty cool and you aren’t so bad at all.”, I responded a bit shyly and Casey replied with a simple ‘yeah’ as he walked to the right side of me.

“Thanks, you dudes are pretty cool too.”, He said with a laugh as we both walked towards the parking lot, where our van was parked right next to the ‘Whiskey-a- go go’. “ Do you come to this place often?”

I nodded with a yes and a small giggle,” Usually, to see bands play.”

” Guess we will be running into each other a lot, huh.” Tommy said as he put his hands in his jacket’s pockets

“Yeah, I guess so.”, I then said as I moved towards Casey.

From there, we parted ways and said goodbye to Tommy, hoping to meet again tomorrow at the same time and place for the last day of the weekend.

Entering the car and pulling away from the parking lot that was next to the bar as we drove away back to our house. It was pretty quiet. Too quiet. I wanted to talk to him about the situation about how he got fired from his band, but I new that was a very strong subject, especially since he was more calmer now then ever.

The rest of the way home was quieter than ever as a random song from the radio was playing in the car. He then parked away next to our place. and just stood there.

“I can’t believe that fucking happen to you.”, He told me all of a sudden as he kept his eyes on the wheel, making my hand pull away from the car’s doorknob as I was ready to leave the car and into the house.

“T-tommy was there when it happen and h-he saved me from that, I-its ok-, ”, I mustered to say as I kept my eyes down, and sunk my body deeper in to the passenger seat.

“No its not fucking okay, those fucking creeps could’ve raped you, because of me!”, He said guiltily with anger as he gripped the wheel a bit tighter and yelled at me,” What if- what if he wasn’t there at all! Damnit”

“Casey!”, I yelled at him so he could hear what I had to say, as he scolded himself for leaving me,” I’m fine, and that’s what matters. Stop blaming yourself for it, It wasn’t your fault. None of it, Okay. You were there too, and you prevented it from happening. Those bastard got what he deserved. I’m safe right now, because of you. You’re a good brother. And a good friend”

He looked at me from the corner of his eyes before leaving his gripping hands away from the wheel and wrapped them around me. He hugged me.

“I know. I’m just afraid that one day I’ll mess up and fail.”, He said his voice cracking by just a bit as he sucked in a breath, trying to hold his emotions together.

The grip he had on me was strong but not too tight either as he buried his face on my neck, embracing me. It startled me at first, but then I let my arms wrap around his strong frame.

“You won’t”, I reassured him with sincerity as I soothed him by rubbing his back gently. Burying my face on his firm shoulder.,” You never did.”

We stayed there for a few moments that almost lasted forever, before he moved himself away from me giving me my space.

“How can you say that. How do you know for sure?”, He said almost as a question as he stared at me softly.

“I just know.”, I told him as I held his hand in mine gently,” Trust me.”

He nodded silently at me as his blue eyes soften as he stared at mine.

We held hands and walked towards the house. As soon as Casey opened the door and turned on the lights to the house, I rushed to my room and to my bathroom. Looking at the bruise more clearly, it wasn’t that bad but it was a bit noticeable. Laying down the icepack that I carried all the way from the diner on the pale sink. Quickly, I went to the bedroom and took my midnight clothes. Then I moved on to the bathroom and closed it behind me taking my clothes off and ready to take a shower. Letting the warmth of the water above me soothe my skin and bruises, as I let my brain and thoughts relax and escape.

....

A few minutes after I got dressed and dried my damp,(H/L); (H/C) hair, I opened the cabinet underneath and pulled out a cream that helped with the mark. I applied it gently onto my skin, careful not to press or put pressure on it too much so it wouldn’t sting. Afterwards, I laid down on my bed wandering what I should do now. I thought writing in my diary or lyrics in my notebook could help. That and there is also my sketchbook in which I spend many ours drawing. As my feet came into contact with the floor, I made my way towards the closet and, reached my hands to the top it, where a bunch of boxes were resting in along with my composition books. Taking the books out from above the box, I accidentally stepped on a shoe as I backed away, causing me to slip from having to stand on my tippy-toes from how high the books were in the closet. Groaning, I stood up and looked at the box that was now opened and had a bunch of photos scattered around in the floor along with the three books. The sound of clatter caused my brother to yell.” Are you okay?!”, He asked from his room as I heard his voice through the thin walls with a yell. “Yeah! I just tripped.”, I yelled back letting him know I was fine. I then gazed towards the photos in the floor, ‘Shit..’, I thought in my head as I looked at the mess,’ Better clean it up.’

As I brought the box on my neatly made bed, I then leaned down to pick the photos each one catching my eye. I then stopped to look at them, sitting on the bed. There was a boy with blonde hair and bright eyes in the picture as he smiled with a toothy grin, one of his front baby teeth being lost, as he held a large hockey stick and wore a warm uniform in the snow. The young boy looked a lot like Casey as he had the same eyes and growing blonde hair. ‘This was Casey!..”, I thought in my head as the young boy in the photo looked exactly like him, examining further as I realized it.

I then brought my attention to the box next to me looking inside and taking the top of it, placing it gingerly to the side. Inside the box, was a photo album. Taking it out and fixing it as it was all messy from the fall and impact, I looked at the photos inside it all being the same boy; sometimes younger or a bit more older and sometimes with a moan, presumably his father, along with other people I didn’t recognize or know of.’ Was this his photo album?’, I thought as I focused on some baby pictures with the same boy, having short blonde strands on his feeble head, looking curiously at the camera in pure adorableness, as he stared with a big and cute smile on his face, that made my heart melt in awe gushingly.

Flipping through the pages, I found one that caught my sight through the corner of my eye. Stopping my actions to look at it, I inspected the photo. It wasn’t just him in the photo. There was an older yet young blonde boy wearing a light blue puffed jacket with a beanie made out of wool and jeans along with dark blue gloves, and a small girl wearing a sweater underneath her warm and big jacket along with warm gloves on her tiny hands, holding a stuffed bear as they stood in the snowy winter behind them. Staring at the camera with serious yet warm expressions in their faces. It was a photo of Casey and me.

What made it more shocking was that I remembered this day that it was taken, despite how young I was. Because it stuck to me for a very long time. It was very important to me.

========================================

1974, L.A. - New York (During Winter)

I was playing around in the snow as I was giggling happily at the sight of it. Aunt Donna was standing beside the car as she stared at me with a warm smile. Grandma was on the porch in her chair on the left side of the porch,

Then I saw Uncle Robert in his brown coat and bored look on his face, as he lit a cigarette on the right side, and Casey standing a few feet away from him leaning on the side of the door.

I then looked towards Auntie and rushed towards her with my tiny feet up the stairs until I reached her on the porch.

“What is it, sweetie?”, Aunt Janet asked as she saw me approach her with a sweet smile.

“Can I, please, go to the park?”, I asked her as I held the stuffed bear close to me.

“Of course.”, She said with a giggle as she walked towards me and leaned down to my level,” I won’t be able to. But I’ll ask Casey to take you.”

She then called Casey over to her, as he stood they’re groaning approaching Aunt Donna as he rolled his eyes, coming down the few set of stairs only to hit the snowy ground to stand right in front of her.

“I need you to take (Y/N) to the park, while I go to the store to pick some things.”, Aunt Janet told him as she then gave him money,” I’m trusting you to watch over her. Buy yourself and her a treat on the way here, Okay.”

She then ruffled my head and Casey’s and went towards the front of the car as she closed the door behind her, starting the car. Pulling away, she waved at me in which in return I did slowly with a gloomy face,” I’ll be back soon.”

Casey and I stood there in the road as she drove away. I went to take Casey’s hand in mine, but he then tugged it away from me rudely, giving me a mean look. I timidly looked down as he did that a bit afraid of him, cowering in fear.” C’mon dork, Let’s go.”, He said as he released a heavy sigh that turned to smoke from the cold, walking away from me.

Walking towards the park nearby, I started to rush towards the swings happily. Playing around the park, I started to look around for Casey only to realize he wasn’t there. This wasn’t the first time he has left me though. Back in school when we would leave after the school rang, we were both supposed to walk to the house together that way I was safe, but he ended up leaving me to walk alone all by myself to the house, not caring what Aunt Janet said about it, even though sometimes she herself would pick us up sometimes from school after work. Once she found out about it, she started to yell at him for doing that and grounded him. But he later sneaked away a couple of times, but I didn’t tell anything to her about it though, because Casey threaten me sometimes.

That didn’t help me from feeling sad and lonely, though, since I was always alone most of the time. I started to walk towards the direction to the house only to be stopped by four boys around 12.

“Looks like, we meet again crybaby.”, Tyler ,One of the boys said as he looked at me, noticing I didn’t say anything back to him,” What not gonna say anything about it?”

He then snatched my teddy bear away from me.

“Aren’t you too old to be playing with toys?”, Tyler mocked as he raised it high above me.

“G-give it back.”, I stuttered silently as tears started to prick at my eyes, trying to act tough and remembering something Casey would say when they messed with him from a few fights I have seen him in at school.” or e-else.”

“Or else what?”, He said his face contorting to anger.

Those boys were the bullies at my school. They made fun of me for liking rock music, plus many other things and would embarrass me in front of the whole class with they’re stupid and cruel pranks, they would also harass me constantly nonstop afterschool. They would push me or fight me a bunch of times. No one knew about it though, because I was scared and just weak. Sometimes, I would come to school with bruises on my knees or arms or I would wet myself on the bed because of how panicked I was, even my Aunt notice it and ask me about it. But I would brush it off as a nightmare or that I accidentally tripped on my. There was one person who did though, Casey. I knew because the fights were always after school and he would just stand there from a distance watching me as he drank from a bottle of booze that if Auntie saw he would get punished for it.

“Hey! Did you hear me, you little bitch.”, He shouted at me as he grabbed me by my shoulders shaking me violently.

“L-let me go.”, I told him as he gripped my arms tightly,” Y-you’re hurting me.”

He then shoved me hard on the floor as he then stood above me.” Ouch!”, I yelled as he kicked me making me tear up from the pain.

“Aww, the little baby’s gonna cry.”, One of the boys said as the other two chuckled cruelly at me.

Tyler then snatched my hair as my back was towards him on the ground, then pressing my head against the ground.

The other boys then started to gang up on me and surround me as I felt small beneath their gaze.

They all started kick me, each impact of their feet making me tear up and suffer much worse. It didn’t help it either that they were wearing shoes. I begged them with tears in my eyes to stop, but they only kept kicking me and mocked me for being weak.

I begged and cried I then scooted away from them with as much force as I could to my already throbbing legs, I then felt my leg being grabbed. As reflex and defense, I used my other leg to kick the person hard in the face causing them to let go of my leg and grab at their face, groaning. I then leaned both of my arms as I looked at the person that snatched my leg ,Tyler, in shock at what I did.

As he let his hand fall away from his face I notice his lip begin to drip with something red as he spit some on the ground, tainting the pure white snow with it. He then looked at his hand as hand that had a few drops of them and stared at me with a steely look that could kill anyone.

“I-i’m sorry.”, I whimpered out as I sniffed out, still scooting away from him as I laid at my side, looking at him with tears in my eyes, my nose red from the cold and from crying too much in agony.

“You are so dead.”, He said with a dark stare as he angrily approached me. Tyler then snatched my hair as my back was towards him on the ground, then pressing my head against the ground., ” No one is gonna fucking hear you, because you are the annoying, fat , weak, freaky ,little crybaby that you are. You hear me!”

Hearing these words made me tear up even more making my cheeks red and damp as he kicked me with each word said in my ear, it also got me thinking if whether that was true or not. If I was really alone right now, that no one was gonna help me. I then laid my head down as I kept crying silently, giving up.

The boys kept kicking me of course, as I begged them to stop. Then suddenly I heard someone yell.

“What the fuc-!”, Before they were cut off.

Tyler’s grip on my hair loosened as he watch the scene, giving me the perfect time to quietly escape from his grasp. Hissing and groaning slightly from the suffering that was inflicting my body. I tried to crawl away from the scene. I then looked over my shoulders to see a boy with blonde hair on top of someone punching Tyler’s face over and over again. Only to stop and get off of them. The boy then turned around to look at me only for their face to be recognized. It was Casey, who’s nose was dripping red with blood. He then rushed towards me and leaned down, with his eyes wide and sucking a breath as he saw my state. He then looked towards the boys who were helping Tyler out from the floor. Breathing heavily in the middle of a panic attack, I curled into a ball crying silently.

“Do you need a fucking hint?”, Casey yelled at them his eyes pissed with furiousness in them as he pierced them with his intense stare.,” Fuck off!”

The boys as soon as they heard that dashed away, dragging Tyler along with them.

Casey ignoring them and looking at my traumatized face, with guilt and regret.

“Fuck!”, He said as he looked at my legs and arms.

“Y-you’re hurt.”, I whimpered out as I was still curled into a ball looking at him.

“What.”, He said as he looked at me with worry.

“You got hurt because of me! I’m sorry!”, I cried out as I closed my eyes letting my tears to fall down my already puffed and red cheeks. Casey seeing this panicked and held my shoulders gently. “No no no no It’s not okay. Forget about the fucked up nose. I’m fine. Okay.”

He then extended his hand towards me which I took in mine with a tremble. Helping out from the snow.

He then hugged me tightly all of a sudden, catching me by surprise and making me flinch but later I, with shaking and feeble arms in pain, embraced him back, as I sniffled. Calming down from the embrace, Casey softly and slowly released me letting his hands to fall on my shoulders. “You wanna go on the swings.”

I then nodded sadly as I sniffled, he then grabbed my hand gently, not letting it go or shooing it away. I in return gripped it tightly, afraid that it would soon disappear from my hands as I stuck closely by him shaken a bit still from what happened.

We then walked silently towards the park again. I couldn’t help but look at his nose in shame as it kept dripping, staining his shirt.

“Y-you’re nose. its red.”, I told him in a whisper only for him to look towards me.

“What?”, He asked as he kept walking, his feet scrunching beneath the snowy white ground.

“Y-you’re nose is red.”, I commented this time a little louder so he could hear me clearly.

“Yeah, No shit sherlock.”, He said sarcastically as he looked ahead, making me looked down sadly. Casey noticed this and muttered a small ‘sorry’ to me

We spend the rest of the day, on the park hanging on the swings. Casey sitting on one of them next to me, and I on the other as we both held hands, afraid to say any words or to let go.

“Casey....” I spoke quietly not looking at him.

“Yeah...”, He said as he didn’t look at me as well.

“Do you think I’m annoying and a freak?”, I asked weakly as casted my eyes down sadly at the white and pale snow on the ground.

“Well.....no.”, He said as he turned his head away,” I think you are a whole lot more than those things.”

“You mean it.”, I said as I looked at him with wide eyes.

“Yes I do. Trust me.”, He said as he squeezed my tiny hand into his large warm one for comfort and to reassure me.

“What if those bullies come back?”, I asked worriedly as my hand and body stiffened at the thought, suddenly unmoving.

“They won’t”, He said with confidence as he looked towards me with soft eyes.

“How do you know for sure?”, I asked him not convinced with his answer or trusting his words, filling my mind with doubt.

“Because, I will kick their asses again if they do.”, He said firmly as he held my hand in his tightly and softly as he squeezed them.,” and I- I will always be there for you....”

“I promise”

========================

{AUTHOR’S NOTE}

Hello again dear reader’s this is the last part of the prologue. We finally met our adorable and crazy Tommy in this one. I hope I wrote his personality and his character as I accurate as I can. This took me a lot to write too. Anyways, thanks for anyone who reads this and loves it as much as I do. Sorry for any one who was awaiting a lot for it. Comment your thoughts about it if you liked it. Hope to see you again on the next update. Love you guys and Hoped you Enjoyed it!

{LIKE AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKED IT 💕}

#nikki sixx #nikki sixx x reader #the dirt #motley crue #tommy lee #vincent neil #mick mars #rock n roll #heavy metal #80's rock #motley crue fanfic #motley crue fanfiction #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx fanfic #motley crue x reader

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peterthepark · 5 years

Text

that’s why i love you

pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

summary: intimacy was never his thing, neither was it yours. he craved something different - something that didn’t involve war, or speaking his mind, having to agree or having to stay. he just wanted to fuck you and leave.

warnings: smutty content, cursing, cheating

a/n: inspired by the song that’s why i love you by sir & sabrina claudio

He runs his hand down the side of the door, blue eyes hungry and blown with lust. Billy licks his lips as he takes in the sight of the small trenchcoat on your frame, knotted in the front to enclose whatever was underneath.

All he cared about was what was underneath.

Your burgundy lips pull into a mischievous smile, red nails trailing up Billy’s bare, wet chest from the shower he had just taken. He reeks of desire. And he smells of selfishness. You place your leg in front of the other, stretching them out as you stand tall in your stilettos.

“You’re late.” He says gruffly, not once tearing his stare off you.

“You said ten.”

“It’s ten-thirty.” Billy scoffs, stepping aside to let you into the room. You glance at him over your shoulder, chuckling at his change of behavior. “What?”

“You’re so eager. Makes me sad that Hannah can’t make you feel this way.” You purr, sitting down on the edge of the queen bed. “Does she ever make you feel this way?” Billy holds his chin high as he studies your face. Your grin doesn’t waver, and it almost makes him feel shameful with the way he wanted to bite the flesh of your thighs as your trenchcoat rides up further your body. “Is this why you come to me? Or should I say, come for me?” You giggle innocently, biting down on your nail as you slowly part your thighs.

“This isn’t about you, babygirl.” Billy retaliates, moving to stand between your spread legs. He nudges them further apart with his knees, letting his hand slide over your jaw, slipping a thumb into your mouth before he captures your lips into a hungry kiss. Pulling away, he leaves hickies down your neck, tugging on the collar of your coat to mark you. “This was never about you. You know what this is, Y/N.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, smiling into your sweet skin.

“Maybe I need a little... refresher.”

You bat your lashes at him, undoing the belt of your trenchcoat. He lets out a shaky sigh when you shrug it off to expose the expensive set of lingerie beneath. The black corset hugs your bodice tightly, pushing up your tits in the most heavenly way possible. Billy only then notices the small choker around your neck, along with the singular lace garter around your thigh.

“Jesus, Y/N.” He breathes out, tucking his finger under your face to look at you properly. “So dolled-up for me.”

“This isn’t about you.” You whisper, hair falling in wisps by your cheeks. Billy gently pushes you back against the bed, letting your wrists fall beside your head as you stare up at him longingly. His breaths are heavy and ragged as he kneads at your skin, letting his nose graze against the front of your corset. Your fingers entangle themselves in his hair, where you bravely tug on his curls to pull him flush against your body.

“Fuck, Y/N. God, you look so goddamn good. Every time.” He mumbles into your arm as he begins to untie the front of your corset, “So beautiful.”

He usually wasn’t like this. The copious amount of compliments or the slow - agonizing- foreplay - it wasn’t his character. Normally, he’d immediately initiate sex, but tonight? There was something different about his demeanor. You couldn’t blame him, really, with all the shit that he was going through. But it was never your business to ask, and it was never in your character to talk about what his personal life was outside of this hotel room.

Pillowtalk wasn’t in the agreement.

Billy’s lips latch onto your hardened nipple, where he swirls his tongue around the bud. You straddle his lap, grinding against his sweatpants with desperation as he nips at your burning skin. His movements are more hurried and rough, and you’re starting to recognize him again.

He moans when you crane your neck, giving him permission to wrap his hand around your throat as he whispers in your ear.

Same compliments.

Same needs.

Same thing, no rules.

“Do you want this?” Billy growls with narrowed eyes.

He knows that he doesn’t need to ask.

He knows your answer already, just by the look in your eyes, and by how you claw at his shoulders.

And yet he still asks you everytime.

You respond with a soft moan, bumping noses as you let your mouth hover over his. He hisses when you bend over to kiss his Adam’s apple, bobbing under your touch as he lays back. His big arms come to rest behind his head, and his torso stretches as he watches you play with your breasts.

“Billy?”

“Yes?” He calls out as you crawl between his thighs, hooking your fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants.

“Call me angel tonight?”

The request causes Billy to shiver. The glimmer of your eyes could almost be mistaken as innocence, but he knows that you have plans that are far from innocent. He balls his hands into fists in your hair as you lick the tip of his cock. He twitches immediately, blushing rosy red at the sensation. You hear the faint gasp of angel, and you chuckle harmoniously.

“Put it inside your mouth, Y/N. Wanna see you choke on my dick.” Billy sighs as you finally wrap your lips around his thick length, where your lipstick stains onto his skin. He shudders when saliva starts to dribble down your chin, and he begins to remember how good you are at making him cum in such a short period. You take notice of his tight grip on the nape of your neck, using it as a sign to pull away from him. You inhale loudly, almost coughing up a storm as you finally get a breath of air. “Such an angel for me, yeah? Sucking my cock... almost makes me wanna fuck your throat.”

“Do you want to, daddy?” You smirk, using your hands to slowly pump his erect cock. “I mean... I don’t mind.” Shrugging, you tie your hair back, opening your mouth for him.

He eases himself between your lips, hand gripping the back of your head to push you further down his dick. Tears prickle in your vision as you gag around him, but Billy knows you can take it as he starts to thrust into you. It’s messy - spit, tear tracks, crazy hair. But you easily know that comes with it.

“Shit, angel. You are fu- fucking amazing. Ah, fuck. Can’t wait to taste that pussy of yours when I’m all finished. You want that?”

“Yes. Please.” You say incoherently.

“Then be a good girl for me and let me fuck your mouth.”

He quickens his thrusts, causing you to shut your eyes at the strained sensation in your throat as he holds you in place. The corners of your mouth bubble with spit, and the sounds you make drive Billy insane to the peak of an orgasm. He throws his head back, curling his nails into your hair as he shoots thick strings of cum down your throat. You whimper as some trickle down your bottom lip, not wanting to waste his precious load. You pull yourself off of him with a loud pop, giggling as you stick out your cum-covered tongue at him.

“Look at you.” He whispers, caressing your cheek with his palm, before he very gently slaps it against your face. “Not only are you an angel, you’re a fucking cumslut.”

You moan audibly at that, feeling your panties dampen at his words. You run a hand up his abs, watching as he motions for you to sit on his face. You move further up his body, letting your core hover just above his mouth while his fingers play with the garter on your thigh. He snaps it against your skin, earning a yelp of surprise from you. He doesn’t waste time as he delves between your folds; his tongue works your clit, collecting your wetness.

Your hand goes to hold the leather headboard, sweaty palms struggling to grip onto the solid as Billy wraps his forearms around your thighs in an effort to hold you down. His nails dig into your soft flesh, leaving crescent-shaped indents when he moves to slap the bare cheek of your ass.

“Billy!” You squeal, body shivering forwards at the sudden contact. Unexpectedly, he tosses you off his face, letting you roll back onto the cushions of the bed. His mouth glistens with your juices, and he gives you a devilish smirk as his tongue darts out to wipe them away.

There’s a growl that rips from his throat as he kisses at your neck and breasts, awakening your skin with goosebumps as he lines up with your entrance. He quickly glances to you, quirking an eyebrow for approval. You nod hastily, clinging onto his arm as he supports himself above you.

“Y/N...” He groans as he buries himself into your pussy. You writhe at the full sensation, mouth forming an ‘O’ as you lock eyes with Billy. “So tight. Fuck. God, you’re perfect.”

Your lips curl up into a faint smile at the sound of it, but the sweet moment doesn’t linger for too long once Billy starts to move his hips into you. His thrusts are slow, yet deep, and at this point, he’s hitting your g-spot endlessly, and you swear you could almost cum right then and there until he pauses.

“Don’t cum, angel. You remember the rules, right?”

“I do, daddy.” You nod furiously.

He narrows his eyes for a second, laughing sinisterly when he begins to circle his thumb against your clit. “Do you? Or should I fuck you hard till you actually remember?”

“F-fuck... please.” You moan out, fisting your fists into the sheets as Billy continues toying with your pussy.

“Little slut.”

He flips you over, grabbing you by the hips as he places his hand on the arch of your back. You grunt as your breasts hit the pillows, and your ass wiggles in the air playfully as you glance back at Billy. His chest glistens with sweat, and your eyes trail down to his dick. Beads of pre-cum trickle down his thumb as he runs it over his tip, right before he pushes himself between your folds. You cry out in pleasure as he snaps his hips against your ass and thighs.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoes throughout the hotel room, and you’re certain that your moans can be heard from the first floor. Billy chuckles as he feels you tighten around him, recognizing the feeling as he brushes his fingers against your clit once more. You try to hold back, but his hand comes down to spank your ass, and you quiver as your juices run down your legs.

“Shit, Y/N. Look at this mess.” He hums with amusement, licking his lips as he looks at your dripping pussy. “You like being messy for daddy?”

With a high-pitched whine, you grin against him, clearly still in need of a orgasm. “Mmm. I’m sorry.”

“Angel, c’mon now. Don’t be sorry.” He growls lowly in your ear, and you gasp as his hand wraps itself around your throat. “I love it when you make a mess. And so tonight, we’re gonna make plenty of a mess.”

Billy was never a liar when it came to you.

He was right about messes.

He was hungry, and touch-starved, and you couldn’t blame him.

The table creaks beneath you as your heels dig into Billy’s shoulders. You orgasm again, then Billy tosses you back onto the bed, wiping the sweat off his forehead as he thrusts inside you without hesitation.

“Billy... fuck... fuck, so good.” He folds you over, letting your knees hit your chest as he pounds into you roughly. His groans are low and gruff, with the occasional whiny, needy moan that drove you insane. Your pussy clenches around him as his jaw hangs slightly open, still fucking you to the brim of tears.

“Babygirl, fuck. You’re perfect. Shit, I love your pussy. Fuck, so wet. Gonna cum.”

“Cum. Please, cum. I want you to fill me up, B.” You dirtily whisper against his cheek, before kissing his lips as his thrusts become lazy.

He lets out a long moan, burying his head into your shoulder as he finally cums. You smile as he relaxes into your body, collapsing gently to your side.

“Holy fuck.” He breathes out, laughing as he ruffles his hair. He looks over to you, skimming the rise and fall of your breasts. “Next week again?”

You sigh knowingly, nodding. “Yeah, but... maybe we can do it at my place this time. These hotels are getting expensive.”

“Oh?” Billy grins, “Can I finally cook you dinner?”

You frown, “You don’t cook dinner for anyone, Billy.”

“Says who?” He moves to kiss up your jaw, tasting the saltiness of your skin.

“You know that’s against the rules...” You nudge his nose with yours, whispering against his plump lips. “And this pillowtalk... what we’re doing right now... is also against the rules.” You say between kisses, caressing his arm.

He pulls away reluctantly, dipping his head down to avoid your gaze. “I know.” You gulp audibly, leaving the bed to collect your things. Billy shifts towards the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his bare thighs in thought. “Hannah is probably wondering where I am right now. It’s the end of her shift. I should... I should go, right?” He calls out to you as you leave the bathroom. Your face is bare of makeup, and your tan trenchcoat hugs loosely around your body.

His blue eyes meet yours, unsure and hesitant. “Billy, I never wondered what this could be.”

“I know.”

“We just... you-“

“I fuck you and leave. I know.”

“I mean, have you wondered what this could be?” You shrug, crossing your arms against your chest as you lean against the table he had fucked you on.

“No.” His jaw clenches.

“I’ve never wanted anything from you, Billy. Just - I sit on your dick then I go home.” You scoff wryly, gesturing at him.

“I know, Y/N. Fuck, I know.” He shakes his head, burying his face in his hands.

“There’s nothing here for us.” You approach him, massaging his scalp as you let him wrap his arms around your waist.

“I just... maybe we could be more if I - if I could deal with the pain.” He huffs, tightening his hold on you.

“I know. But this isn’t what I came for.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t wanna waste your time.” He mutters softly. “I think... maybe it’s just - maybe this is what I get for cheating on Hannah.”

You step away from him, pressing one last kiss to his head before you slip into your heels.

“If this is you feeling shame for cheating on Hannah...”

You sling your purse over your shoulder as you head for the door. wrapping a hand around the knob.

“Think about how I feel for cheating on Steve.”

Billy nods in understanding.

“I’ll see you next week.”

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thanksjro · 5 years

Text

More Than Meets the Eye #1- Meeting All Our New Friends

Okay, let’s see what happens when you give one man way too much power over a franchise, and he doesn’t use it for evil.

Before we get into the story, let’s take a look at the cover art! MTMTE, as well as its sister series, Robots in Disguise, started off IDW Phase Two, a brand new run of main comics to replace the by-then completed The Transformers (2009). To celebrate this momentous occasion, each comic’s first issue got FOUR separate covers, which could be combined to create a large, overarching image. MTMTE’s looked like this when all the covers were put together.

The cover art here is by Alex Milne, who is on as the main artist for the series, but he’s not on issue #1- no, for our foray into this comic run, we see the return of Nick Roche.

The last time Roche and Roberts worked together was on Last Stand of the Wreckers, and other than MTMTE #6 and the Revolution one-shot, they won’t be teaming up again within the IDW run.

On a potentially-related-but-more-of-just-a-humorous note, it seems that Roberts is a huge stickler with his scripts, going into what sounds like an honestly horrific amount of detail for each individual panel. The average comic script is either between 20-23 or 28-30 pages long, not counting title and credit pages. Roberts has been cited as sending in comic scripts that approached 50 pages.

Which, if you know anything about the scriptwriting process, is a little… yeah. It’s a very good thing Roberts seems to be able to take criticism.

ANYWAY.

IT’S TIME.

The Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye- Liars, A to D Part 1: How to Say Goodbye and Mean It- holy fucking shit that’s a long title- starts off with the Story So Far, a comic book classic to catch readers up on what’s happened prior to the issue. The very nature of a Story So Far will become plot-relevant much later down the line, but as is, it’s just reminding us what happened during Phase One, in as basic a point as it can.

And then the credits are right underneath.

I can’t even imagine how friggin’ good seeing this printed must have felt.

So, what’s going on in the premiere of the sad, gay, space comic?

Not my phrasing, by the way, but the Wiki’s.

So, the war’s over. What does that mean? Well, a lot of things, honestly, but the first thing we’re given in terms of what changes to expect with everyone’s favorite space robots is in relation to their wardrobes. Yeah, without a war to fight, what’s the point in having relatively identical blocky armor that protects all your insides? It’s time to get skimpy.

Rodimus has switched out his toned calves and discernible ankles for the Uggs that are now positively iconic to his character. Drift’s mass has almost completely gravitated to his thighs, making him the curviest thing this side of the Milky Way. Ultra Magnus didn’t get the memo about not needing to be in uniform anymore, I guess, but somehow I doubt he owns anything casual.

Rodimus, Drift, and Magnus are holding a rally to invite Autobots to come on their party-barge to find the Knights of Cybertron, in an effort to heal the planet, because Rodimus took one look at post-war Cybertron and said “no thanks.” Honestly, I think most would, if these properly colored characters are any indication.

Just the Autobots, by the way. We aren’t ready to be friends with the ‘Cons just yet. Swindle did some major damage on that front.

Prowl and Wheeljack are off to the side discussing this turn of events, and while Wheeljack seems to think that a lot of folks will be boarding the ship and getting the hell out of dodge, Prowl’s expecting nothing to come of it.

So, that was yesterday. What’s going on today?

Inside Kimia, there’s a dead guy. He wasn’t dead when he was brought in, but he is now. Who is he, anyway?

Oh, he’s one of the NAIL protesters, and he died because he was protesting by way of transforming on the steps of Autobot HQ, until his transformation cog burn out. Yep, that can kill you. Ratchet’s the one who performed the autopsy, as per Metalhawk’s request- he only wanted the best of the best on this.

Too bad the best of the best is starting to slump. After a brief scare with Rigor Morphis- the stiffening of the corpse into the body’s preferred mode- Ratchet explains to Bumblebee that his hands have started seizing up, and that’s why he’ll be leaving on the Lost Light with Rodimus. He just can’t do the work anymore.

This news is not well received by Bumblebee, who’s just about had it with everyone up and leaving him all by himself with the mess that is Cybertron.

Phase Two will not be kind to Bumblebee.

Bumblebee accuses Ratchet of having been insnared in Rodimus’ siren song of reclaiming the Golden Age, but c’mon, this is Ratchet! He’s too cynical to fall for that. He’s more interested in finding the Autobots who’ve been lost over the millennia to the war. Ratchet’s already well aware of the true purposes of this little galactic road trip, almost like he’s read the plot outline.

It’s about helping people, and adventure, and being unapologetically gay and sad in equal measures.

Up in the sky, Cyclonus is displeased. He spent six million years in the Dead Universe, under the control of a madman, waiting for the moment he could return to his beloved homeworld, and what does he get? A ball of half-baked primordial cookie-dough, and it’s not even chocolate-chip like he was expecting; it’s fucking oatmeal raisin.

Mmm, that is some tasty panel-breaking right there.

Of course, the I/D chip might not have worked anyway, seeing as Cyclonus got a little bit of a boost when Vector Sigma ejected everyone during the Matrix incident. It’s doing some weird stuff to his body, on top of whatever nonsense existing inside the Dead Universe does to a person.

Cyclonus is about to head over to the Lost Light- apparently he and Rodimus made a little deal off-panel- when he detects a familiar life sign and decides to see what that’s all about.

Over in Prowl’s office, things are tense. He and Chromedome can’t even look at each other, as Chromedome reveals that both he and Rewind are jumping on the Lost Light. Prowl doesn’t like this, not one bit. He needs Chromedome, needs his skills, his expertise. He tries to appeal to Rewind, knowing who wears the pants in this relationship.

Or, well, he tries.

Prowl, they’ve been married for over 250,000 years.

In all seriousness, this is slightly before the first tentative steps Roberts took towards making the franchise as gay as he possibly could, at least when going by the story’s chronology. The thing about professional comic script writing is that plotting/planning goes for a ways beyond the current script one’s working on, so that everyone knows where everyone else is. Considering the somewhat congruent nature between MTMTE and RiD, planning ahead was especially important.

Chromedome and Rewind were originally (like, first draft originally) meant to be best friends. This was to fill a void in the department of close relationships Roberts felt within the Transformers franchise. Then Roberts saw how handsy he’d been writing them during plotting and realized he’d made something a little different happen. Which still sort of went with what he was going for, just in a slightly different fashion. Chromedome and Rewind are a rare case of a writer NOT leaning into the “they’re just bros, bro” mentality and just letting the characters be together as romantic partners.

Also keep in mind that it would be another three fucking years before the United States would legalize same-sex marriage, which is where the IDW offices are located. You gotta ease that sort of change in, that way nobody realizes what you’re doing until it’s already been done, then you can go hog-wild. We won’t be hitting critical mass on the homonormative civilization that is IDW1 Cybertron for a solid year or so.

So this bit of dialogue is just the start of the setup, and the “best friend” line is either a leftover from earlier versions of the script, or Prowl really just is that big of an asshole.

Rewind is, of course, recording everything taking place on his handy-dandy little head-mounted camera, because history is his business, and he’s not going to stop recording for the likes of Prowl.

Rewind doesn’t like Prowl very much.

It would seem that the feeling is mutual.

Chromedome suddenly remembers that trying to reason with Prowl is like talking to a brick wall, and the two of them leave. Prowl responds to this slight by yelling in the hallway and then flipping a table.

I sure hope y’all like running gags.

Of course, Prowl wouldn’t be Prowl without having a few contingency plans in place for when things don’t go his way, and he makes a call to his inside guys to “load the cargo.”

That’s not ominous in the slightest.

Six million years prior to all this nonsense, a tiny little dude fell in a hole and broke his legs trying to get to work.

This is Tailgate, and he’s seen better days. Not many, mind you, but at least a couple. He was making his way to the launch of the original Ark, when he decided to take a shortcut that would change the course of his life forever. Hence the whole “stuck in a hole” thing. Still, he’s got to get out of here, because without him, the entire expedition is doomed!

For being an idiot, Tailgate’s pretty smart- he figures that if he sets off his energon rations, it’ll blast up through the roof of the cavern he’s in and someone will be able to find him. Good thing energon’s so incredibly volatile.

Speaking of volatile, let’s jump back to the present and check on our buddy Whirl.

It looks like Whirl also got a makeover between series, because he’s now sporting a much sleeker, angular frame, complete with long, tapered head.

Whirl’s currently busy thanking his new friends for spending so much time with him. It really meant a lot to him, their patience. Not many folks have been patient with him before.

Of course, it probably helps that all these guys are dead as hell.

It’s time for another Roberts’ staple- the suicide attempt. We won’t be using the robot-equivalent to Multiple Sclerosis though. This go around, we’ll be using a classic: self immolation!

Title drop! Bet you weren’t expecting it to have such a dark connotation, huh?

Cyclonus interrupts Whirl’s monologue and suicide attempt. He thought he’d seen his best buddy, Scourge, on his tracker, and his immediate response is to lurk in the shadows looking like a night demon wearing a party hat.

Fun fact: a group of Sweeps is called a Spring Cleaning.

Scourge isn’t here, and he won’t ever be. Scourge most likely died off-panel, never to be seen again, assumedly because nobody wanted to write for him. I think it’s the nails, puts people off.

Whirl doesn’t take kindly to the intrusion, and responds the only way he knows how.

It’s always embarrassing when your self-immolation gets interrupted, but maybe try taking a first deep breaths before committing to more war crimes, Whirlybird.

While these two morons fill the post-Bay movie explosion quota, Red Alert’s hard at work screening the passengers on the Lost Light. Currently, he’s checking Brainstorm, who’s making it as difficult as possible, both legally and emotionally. Red Alert waves him on with a grumble, without even getting a peek at what’s inside his mysterious briefcase.

Up next is Swerve.

His legs are so jacked, it makes me a little uncomfortable. Glad to see Swerve’s body reformat went swimmingly- seems he went for the classic “tires in the shoulders and ankles” model.

Oh hey, it’s Rung! Hi Rung!

This series will not be kind to Rung.

While Cyclonus and Whirl terrorize the folks just trying to get on board the dang ship, Rodimus is feeling rather pleased with himself with the turnout. Drift strokes his ego a bit, because they support each other, but things are still weird because Drift doesn’t know who he is as a person anymore, and Rodimus has a guilty conscience mixed with being the Matrix’s golden child, which really fucks with a guy’s head.

Ultra Magnus goes through the list of the folks joining their quest, and starts running through all their demerits and crimes like it’s his job, because it is. We get a little peek into Magnus’ world view and then it’s back to the Whirl and Cyclonus show.

Also, Drift doens’t have a nose right now. He’ll get it back in time for the next issue, don’t worry.

Over with the flyboys, Cyclonus has decided to land and attempt to reason with Whirl. Not that he couldn’t totally kill Whirl if he wanted to.

He just doesn’t want to.

No, Cyclonus is far more concerned with his meeting with Rodimus, the one that he’s already friggin’ late for thanks to the detour he took checking that life signature. Whirl doesn’t care, far more worried about the fact that Cyclonus saw him talking to desecrated corpses and, far more importantly, vulnerable.

Look at this jackass’ ensemble- demon helmet, a crop top, a skirt and bellbottom pants. What an icon. He and Eugenesis Wheeljack should trade fashion tips.

Whirl still isn’t done with him, even after scraping him across the side of a mountain. Feeling especially artsy, he scoops Cyclonus up and jumps into the air, since he apparently has a hundred-foot vertical leap.

Back in the past, things aren’t going so well for Tailgate.

More cool panel stuff going on here- every time the panels have had rounded corners, it’s been when the scene takes place in the past. Now that the last panel has proper right angles to it, Tailgate’s in the present with everyone else. That middle panel probably covers a couple million years, at least. Poor guy.

Up on the surface, Ratchet’s met up with Chromedome and Rewind, and they’re all walking over to the launch site, Chromedome bitching all the while about how they’ve got to use their legs since Rewind’s alt-mode isn’t a vehicle, but a USB.

Chromedome seems to have forgotten that his tiny husband is small enough to probably just ride on top of his alt-mode, if not directly inside, most likely due to his larger-than-life personality.

Whirl and Cyclonus fall out of the sky before Chromedome can say something that’ll get his ass divorced. Cyclonus gets knocked out cold, having taken the brunt of the impact. Unfortunate, seeing as Whirl’s taking the time to make up lies about him.

You thought I was kidding when I said the armor was skimpy, but here we are, with a shot of Whirl’s battle thong.

Ratchet, who knows Whirl, because he knows everybody, tries to talk him out of straight up murdering Cyclonus. Whirl doesn’t like it when people try to talk him down, and is about to turn on the good doctor, when Tailgate enters the scene, by way of explosion.

Whirl doesn’t handle explosions terribly well. Probably why he was going to use one to kill himself.

With Whirl knocked out, Ratchet and the power couple pull Tailgate out of his hole, where he manages to ask about the launch before freaking the fuck out and fainting at the sight of a rather dead-looking Whirl. To be fair, I can’t think of a whole lot of folks who’d survive getting their tits blown off with enough force to clear a tunnel in solid rock.

You said it, Rewind.

Ratchet grabs Tailgate and Whirl and brings them onboard the ship, seeing as Tailgate seems to want to be there, and Whirl’s too dangerous to be out of sight. They just kinda leave Cyclonus on the ground. I doubt the two guys who were on Kimia last month really want to deal with him.

Rewind breaks off from the group to see his dealer. This dealer isn’t selling the good kush though. He’s got something far more incriminating to offer.

But we don’t get to find out what the fuck Rewind just bought from Swindle for a few more issues. Rest assured, it’s nothing good.

On the bridge, Rodimus is in his captain’s chair, ready to captain it up. The Lost Light raises into the air, as Bumblebee and Prowl watch on, about to exit the atmosphere and begin a adventure filled with hijinks and mild peril.

And that’s a series wrap on everyone! I hope you enjoyed this wonderful one-shot written by James Roberts.

What do you mean there’s 56 more issues?

Alright, let’s see where this goes.

Back on the bridge, there’s alarms and sirens out the wazoo, as things have pretty much immediately gone to shit. The quantum engine the Lost Light’s outfitted with apparently went off prematurely, rocketing them into a completely random quadrant of space.

Also, there’s a hole in the ship, and vacuum physics are doing their thing.

This series will not be kind to Rodimus.

The Lost Light touches down on the planet they popped back into existence over to start looking for all the guys who got sucked out of the ship. They don’t have to look long, seeing as they’re all burning up in the atmosphere.

Welcome to the Lost Light. It’s a friggin’ mess.

Back on Cybertron, the aftermath of the explosion is seen, as Bumblebee and Prowl listen to a message that seems to imply a lot more heartache in the future.

Prowl, you could at least pretend to give a shit.

That’s the end of the story, but not the end of the issue. In the back of the book, we get a welcome letter from James Roberts himself, thanking the reader for taking the time to read the beginning of MTMTE, and holy shit does he really try to sell it to you. This is a guy who wants you to be excited about the story that’s coming your way, because he’s excited about it. He’s a big dork who loves Transformers, and he gets to write about them for the next six years! That’s awesome.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #liars A-to-D #issue 1 #incoming analysis #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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totallypathet · 4 years

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Episode Nine

Is it just me, or is anyone else less of a Jeff Goldblum fan after that show? Very bizarre. Speaking of bizarre, can we talk about Roople's wardrobe this season? Theres been a few looks I've absolutely hated, but that look he wore on the main stage was actually heinous. I mean honestly, what is he spending that fracking money on? Bc it ain't wardrobe, hair or makeup.

Let's chat quickly about the mini challenge as well. Remember when mini challenges were fun, light entertainment sketches instead of straight up advertisements? Greed ain't a good look Roop.

The main challenge this week was a really great concept. It worked well in season 4 (except for PhiPhi, but that's to be expected), it makes sense to bring it back for another election year. I also think it was a great choice to bring it back this year, it opens the door for really important political conversations - like the struggles of being LGBT+ in conservative states, being black or a POC in the US in general, being an immigrant... I'm so glad that the space was given for the queens (Widow and Jackie in particular) to have those conversations. However, I think there was too many queens to make that debate coherent. They didn't give it enough time, the editing was bizarre, and it was really tough to follow what was actually happening and who did well/didn't do well.

All that said, let's jump into the breakdown...

1. Crystal Methyd

Crystal makes me proud every week, and this week was no exception! She just jumps from strength to strength and I love her more and more each week! Her debate was pretty good, I love that she really leant into the drag aspect, and (obviously) her mullet, and she made me laugh! I enjoyed her. And her loooooook on the runway!! She was giving me lifeee, I just absolutely loved it! I didn't get what carson was saying about it being too much at all - it was very Alyssa Edwards, like it should be too much but it just works. The hat, with the blue hair, and her make-up, I loved all of it. Great night for Crystal!

2. Gigi Goode

Gigi suffered from the edit I think this week. I get that she was going for this robotic character, but she didn't really get the time to build, it was too fast paced. But also I definitely get what the judges were saying, she's clearly not very politically engaged, which is a shame. I think in these times we all have to be a little bit politically aware - I'm not saying you have to know every detail and get news alerts every 5 seconds, but you just have to know a bit, yknow? I'm not even American and I feel like I probably know US politics better than Gigi does.

Also, we've seen the robotic character before. Show us something new.

I didn't live for her runway either. It seemed like a less good version of her entrance look. It felt lazy somehow, and I just wonder if Widow had worn it would the judges have gagged over it so much? Or did it only work bc Gigi is a skinny white queen? I dont know. I think Gigi should have been lip syncing this week - but I guess the producers know they can't pit her against Widow because Widow would wipe the floor with her.

I feel like Gigi is coasting, and it's a shame. She's better than this. I wonder if maybe she might have needed another couple of years just to really solidify her star power.

3. Heidi N Closet

The thing that confused me most about Heidi this week was that in the work room she had that really great slogan "no more closets" that she was toting, then she didn't say it once in the challenge? I didn't get it. Regardless, I thought Heidi was great in the challenge! She looked the part, she gave me that conservative Southern Belle character with her (literal) pearl clutching, I enjoyed it. She looked like she was having fun, and that's my favourite thing on this show; when I watch a queen have fun, I have fun. Loved it.

Her look on the runway was cute, she did the assignment, she looked great. It wasn't particularly creative, but I enjoyed it. Really strong night for Heidi.

4. Jackie Cox

Jackie was so so so important this week. Of course, as Persian LGBT+ representation, she's always important, but this week really opened the door for her to delve deeper into her story, and talk about how important it is to be politically aware, how affected immigrant families are under Tr*mp's presidency, how affected Muslims are, the importance of voting, what the word "American" means... so so so important. I'm so glad she told her story, and I'm so proud of her for representing her heritage.

Having said that, she wasn't great in the debate. I thought the Canadian thing was funny, but it didn't develop, it just sort of flat lined. And it was a shame, because she fully looked the campaign trail part.

Her runway look was perfect. It was so powerful, and so beautiful, and it will have touched so many LGBT+ muslims around the world.

5. Jaida Essence Hall

Jaida was so good this week. I loved her character in the main challenge, it was so absurd that it was just hilarious! And she managed it being absurd and funny on the top layer, and underneath was this perfect satire and cynicism. And she was so quick! So witty! And she looked like she was having so much fun. I remember I said a few weeks ago that I felt a little bit disconnected from Jaida, but this week i felt like we were just seeing pure Jaida. She was just enjoying herself and I related to her so much. I was so happy watching her this week. She fully deserved her win.

However. I hated her runway. I dont know why! I just really hated it. Her hair and makeup was beautiful (of course!) but that outfit was just... I don't know, it confused me. Maybe that was the point, maybe it was an extension of her character in the challenge and I just didn't get that!

6. Widow Von Du

I'm so sad about Widow. I absolutely adore her, she was one of my absolute favourites from the beginning; watching her go right after Jan was so hard.

I do think she deserved to be in the bottom, which is kind of shitty because she didn't do a bad job at all! It's just that she wasn't that funny, and we all know that that's the trick to this show. She really looked the part, and she had some jokes, I just wonder if she was off rhythm because she was so tired. And then as soon as she got frustrated on the runway, we knew it was all she wrote. Which is also shitty! She was frustrated, and she had every right to be! It seemed like she couldn't do right in front of the judges. I felt like she was just airing her feelings and expressing her emotions. I don't know why the judges are so opposed to that on the main stage. Like it seems to be fine when they just demurely cry, but as soon as they have something to say about the critiques, no matter how valid it is, they get bashed for "not taking constructive feedback". I dont like that - she's upset, she should be allowed to be upset. If you dont like it that much, cut it out in the edit, but damn she's allowed to have feelings.

Also I loved her look this week. So powerful, so important, so beautiful.

I just hope she knows how incredible she is, and is able to recognise how great her work was throughout the show.

I do have a couple of other things to say about this episode (me? Have opinions? Unheard of!).

First of all, Jeff Goldblum was way out of line talking about Islam being homophobic/sexist. Jackie was making an important statement about how important representation is, and it was totally inappropriate to turn that into a religious debate. I do think it's so important to talk about LGBT+ rights and womens rights globally, but it's also really important to distinguish between culture and religion. And even more important to recognise the difference between governmental culture and social culture. It's an incredibly nuanced topic, and he clearly isn't well informed. To be honest though, even if he hadn't said it the way he said it; he shouldn't have been talking over her about issues that directly affect her. The whole thing was inappropriate. At worst, it was racist/islamophobic, at best it was tone deaf and misjudged.

Secondly, let's all just take a moment to think about how this episode dealt with politics, politically charged subjects and patriotism; and how interesting it is that the two queens who chose to represent black and Muslim empowerment were in the bottom two. Just something to think about.

#drage race #drag race spoilers #rpdr12 #drag race season 12 #crystal methyd #gigi goode #heidi n closet #jackie cox #jaida essence hall #widow von du

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ladyloveandjustice · 5 years

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Summer 2019 Anime Overview: Given

While the rest of my reviews are gonna be quick takes, I love Given so much that this ended up being something close to a proper review. Gotta love on the stuff that deserves it!

Given

Given is definitely going to be in the top five anime of the year for me. I say that with complete confidence even through the year isn’t over yet. That’s how good it is.

This is a story that combines band and music drama with high school boy romance drama and even throws in some grad school guy love drama for good measure. But it’s also an incredibly moving, well-executed story about coping with grief and survivor’s guilt. It can be very funny, very adorable and is often heartwrenchingly emotional.

I adore the two leads and their relationship. Ritsuka is endearing from the second he bursts into the scene- He’s a dork who’s instinctively kind and helpful even as he blusters about it and complains dramatically. He can be bad at communicating but he really does try his best, bless him. He’s just a complete mess constantly overwhelmed by the feels he gets from this weird guy he’s crushing on.

Mafuyu is equally wonderful- Ritsuka describes him as a “lost puppy” when he first meets him and, well, that’s not inaccurate.The kid is little awkward and taciturn, yet his strong emotions and high enthusiasm shine through all the time. Mafuyu is also a lot more complex than he initially appears. He has a TON of baggage and intense turmoil he’s going through underneath his sweet, spacey-seeming exterior.

Unlike a lot of characters in the BL genre (and teen romance in general lbr), Mafuyu has a romantic past, he’s well aware he’s gay and his ex isn’t some one dimensional evil caricature either. It’s also later revealed Mafuyu IS aware of how he comes off and gets sad about not being able to express emotions and socialize like “normal people” do. He’s a very resonant and well-thought-out character, and his journey is nuanced, fantastic and tugs on the heartstrings.

Then there’s the two grad school guys, Haruki and Akihiko. They’re fun,interesting characters who’ve got some thorny romantic tension going between them. They both seem, realistic for their age. I mean, Haruki is constantly burying his face in his hands and internally screaming, which is extremely relatable and absolutely accurate to my grad school existence at least. Their different relationships with their sexuality and feelings also have a touch of realism and nuance. One of this pair has been in relationships with plenty of guys and girls alike and is pretty comfortable with his sexuality-but he clings to some of his past in what might be an unhealthy way. On the opposite spectrum, the other man accepted his feelings long ago, yet never acts of them, seemingly deciding it’s hopeless.

When they’re not busy being disasters themselves, these two act as mentors and sorta big bros to our disaster teens. This honestly rules. As I said in my Bloom into You review, it’s my favorite thing when media reflects how different generations of people in the lgbtq+ community can help and support each other.

In fact, there’s a really touching and realistic conversation where Ritsuka talks about his insecurities over his emerging crush with one of the older guys and shares a bit of his own experience to reassure Ritsuka. He lets Ritsuka know, no, there’s nothing wrong with him and there are people who’ve been there and who understand. The whole thing is just really well done. It’s also great because it feels like the show is really trying to warmly reassure any viewers who might be struggling. It shouldn’t be a rare thing to feel like a story about queer romance is truly keeping the queer audience in mind, yet it is RARE. So it makes me happy to see this story reach out.

Given is on point with it humor, characters, romance, exploration of grief and deals well with issues- but it’s got even more going for it than that! It’s a really well directed anime. The pace is slow and contemplative, with an absorbing atmosphere that really draws the viewer in and makes them feel like they’re living day-to-day with the characters. The dramatic moments, the funny moments, the sweet moments- they all hit just perfectly. The care taken in telling this story really comes through.

The animation budget was clearly not super high, but the story makes the most of it, and the characters are really expressive when they need to be. The music is also very nice and generally well integrated, with one song in particular guaranteed to break your heart right in half. The season also stops at a good point. Though the manga is still ongoing, these eleven episodes tell a pretty complete, lovely little story that still leaves the door open for more, with stuff that has yet to be resolved lingering in the background for a sequel to pick up on (and it will be picked up on-a sequel movie focusing on the grad school guys has already been announced).

The anime is tasteful, so my content warnings have more to do with themes of the story rather than any gaffes.

(I try to keep it vague but there are slight spoilers in the following paragraphs. You’ve been warned).

Suicide and depression are discussed and referenced heavily throughout the story, but dealt with sensitively and no graphic content is present. As mentioned, the story explores grief and survivor’s guilt, so if that hits too close to home, be aware.

As far as consent issues go, there is a surprise kiss at one point, but the character who initiated it was so emotionally overwhelmed at the time it takes him a while to even remember he did that, and when he does, he’s mortified and freaks out. There’s also a small gag with one of the guys wanting to take a picture his crush sleeping after said crush barges into his house and crashes on his couch. And finally, there are hints that there’s something kinda shady going on with one of the grad school guys, but it doesn’t come to fruition in this part of the anime- stuff might go down in the movie though! But overall, the main romance in this series is just super wholesome, adorable AND emotionally gripping!

(spoilz end)

By the way, there are actually girls in this series, though they play pretty minor role. Ritsuka’s sister is great, she really speaks her mind and she and her brother have a fun, somewhat combative, but still clearly loving relationship. There’s also a girl who has a crush on one of our guys, and while she does do some questionable things, she’s has a bit more self-awareness and is treated with more sympathy than her archetype usually gets.

If I haven’t already made it clear, 10/10 anime, would recommend. Do yourself a favor and check it out.

#given #given anime #summer 2019 anime #anime overview #ritsuka uenoyama #uenoyama ritsuka #mafuyu sato #mafuyu satou #sato mafuyu #akihiko kaji #haruki nakayama #reviews #my reviews

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hermitreunited · 5 years

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TUA Feedback Fest!

💜💜 Favorite Fic Writer 💜💜

I could have split these all up to go under various rec theme posts, and maybe I will, but the gosh darn truth of it is that I love every fic by @sunriseseance aka Oceansweather so dang much that I needed to make a post about all of it. A very detailed post. It’s long, but she and her work deserve it. <3

A Hard Rain’s A Gonna Fall

Summary: In 1963, most citizens of Dallas had no idea where Vietnam was. He knew that because none of the people he passes as he walks look particularly dead inside. The sidewalk scorches his feet even though the sun hangs low in the sky. The air is hot and wet and it feels like a jungle growing in his chest.

aka, A Fourth of July fic about Klaus, trauma, family, and history. Takes place in 1963.

Rating: NR⎜Pairing: Implied Klaus/Dave⎜Word Count: 4k+⎜Complete (1/1)

This is true for all of her fics - the writing style is so engaging and good and smart! This fic in particular, though - WOW the narration is incredible. Gets you very deep into Klaus’ headspace for a gripping, panicky experience. He’s dealing with the fallout of a traumatic event that is about to happen to most of the people around him. So complicated and sad and intricate!

He wants to warn her that, hey, in 6 years your little boyfriend is going to get drafted and he’s going to go to a country you couldn’t pick out on a map and he’s going to kill people who he shouldn’t kill and every week he’ll write you a letter promising you that when he gets back you’ll move out of the city and your baby will have a real forest to play in and then he’ll kill some more people he’ll go to hell for killing if there’s a hell to go to, and then, well, he’ll get shot in the chest and the blood will come out of his mouth, too, and you’ll have to know that you weren’t there, weren’t fast enough to hear his last words or offer him some last comfort and he’ll be dead and for what?

Happy Birthday, Johnny

Summary: It’s a nice place. Allison made sure of that when she chose it the first time. Three stays ago. God, they’re only 23 (And they are 23 now, or close enough). Three times? She may as well be lighting her money on fire.

Still, the chairs are comfortable. The visiting room is empty, of course, apart from a man with deep, heavy bags under his eyes. Fluorescent lights hum above her as she waits. They wash everything out, cast everything in a harsh shadow. Not that anything about the experience isn’t harsh. This is stupid. She knows it, now, as she feels her heart beating in her throat and the backs of her legs and her fingers.

What if he doesn’t want to see her? What if he was asleep for, what, the first time in 13 days? That’s how long it’s been this time, right? What if he hates her? (What if he’s right to do so?)

Rating: NR⎜Pairing: Gen⎜Word Count: 3k+⎜Complete (1/1)

Get ready for your heart to break from the Allison and Klaus feelings (and hold onto them, because she’s going to do this again, Allison and Klaus feelings is her brand). Being Hargreeves siblings is complicated, so so complicated, especially for these two, whose circumstances could not be more different, but when it comes down to it, they are quite similar. It’s pre-series, so it’s Sad, but boy is it ever a detailed look into these two excellent characters.

On their 13th birthday, before everything went wrong, Klaus snuck into her room at midnight with a magazine he stole and a cake he made. The smell of smoke stuck to all of his clothes, his skin, his hair. He gave her the cake, all of it, and the magazine. The smile that accompanied them haunts her.

He asked if he could sit with her, and she said yes. He asked if she’d ever smoked before, and she said no. He asked if she wanted to, and she said yes. He asked if she wanted weed or a cigarette, she said cigarette. That’s what the movie stars did. He gave her a look, a laugh, and showed her how to hold it so it didn’t burn her fingers. Not that he’d lit it yet. He wanted to make sure she had it down before he set her on fire.

Slow is in My Blood

Summary: Dave touches him, sometimes. In dances through root systems lit by a diffused moon, Dave puts a hand on his lower back, his arm, his shoulder. To help, he says. Your balance, he says, it isn’t good. I don’t want you to fall. These pits are endless, he says. You don’t like the dark. A touch to help. It helps.

aka, A meditation on Klaus and allowing himself to be loved. Dave doesn't die at the end.

Rating: NR⎜Pairing: Klaus/Dave⎜Word Count: 1k+⎜Complete (1/1)

I am biased, I suppose, because this fic was a gift to me. But like!!!! This fic!!! It’s sad and beautiful and lovely and so perfect. I can’t not think about Klaus and Dave’s relationship without thinking about the dynamic in this fic, about how Dave initiates and Klaus keeps himself from running away. It’s gorgeous.

Maybe it’s not one sided. Maybe he touches Dave on the back of his neck just to watch his skin react. Maybe he hopes the reaction comes from the touch itself, and not the chill Klaus carries with him. Maybe he lets the touch linger long enough for Dave to smack his hand away. Maybe he knows, somewhere, that smack is the wrong word. Dave doesn’t smack. He holds, and moves. He lacks a violence somewhere at his core. Maybe it’s the only way Klaus has something Dave lacks, and maybe it’s the only thing Klaus wouldn’t share if Dave asked.

I’ll Be Cleaning Up Bottles With You on New Year’s Day

Summary: Sitting behind him on the windowsill, in a truth that still feels false, is Dave. Quiet, right now. Rubbing Klaus's neck. Kissing it occasionally. New clothes, even, though still only things Klaus saw Dave wear in life. The closest he came to fancy enough for New Year's was the outfit he wore on the night they first kissed. The dates still get muddled in his head.

Dave still smells like Dave. Klaus can bring that back, too. The earthy-clean skin, the slight scent of sweat, the cotton of the polo. Something else, underneath all that. Something that Klaus could recognize anywhere, could follow to the end of the world, could die to protect.

Rating: NR⎜Pairing: Klaus/Dave⎜Word Count: 1k+⎜Complete (1/1)

OKAY Okay okay. This fic was the equivalent of a bottle of wine when I read it on New Year’s Eve, because it just took these 1092 words, and suddenly I was crying and telling my friends how much I loved them. Me talking about it here is not going to do justice to the warmth and love that you will feel from this. You just have to read it. If you want to experience a moment of perfect contentment and peace that will probably put happy tears in your eyes, read this.

His family is together. Really. They sit in the living room, wearing out couches that have lasted centuries. Allison spills her champagne. Luther only moved Klaus to the slightly-opened window when Klaus started smoking.

Diego's puzzle, which he insists isn't his, keeps finding more pieces. Five and Diego work on it together. He watches them work on it together. He watches Luther help, before getting up to change the record on father's phonograph.

Karma, Leave These Kids Alone

Summary: Klaus is right, because he usually is. Their childhood was worth fearing. But it wasn’t all bad, she thinks, and some guilt pangs her. I wouldn’t wish this on us, but I’m glad I got him out of it. I’m glad Claire is safe.

She holds out her hand for him, and he takes it.

aka, A meditation on Allison and her traumas, guilts, fears, and loves. Centered around her and Klaus, their love for one another, and how that changes her love and fear for Claire.

Rating: NR⎜Pairing: Gen⎜Word Count: 2k+⎜Complete (1/1)

Allison and Klaus complicated feelings part deux! Now with added Claire feelings! The story centers around Allison’s fear of her daughter having powers, which I would read 100 fics about, and because it’s an Oceansweather fic, it doesn’t stop there. The Hargreeves are adults now who are trying to understand their childhood, and how they relate to each other. It’s complex and sad and it hurts but also it’s healing and growth and love.

He laughed that familiar laugh.

Why would she see the dead? Well, she has an imaginary friend like you used to. She has nightmares. Klaus, I am terrified for her. How did you know it was real? He was quiet, and then he said, well, I could see them. I always could. If she doesn’t see them, she doesn’t see the dead, right?

And Allison said yes. That makes sense. And then Klaus was quiet for a while longer, and then he gagged, and then he said, well, why are you terrified for her? She heard the venom in his voice.

Same As It Ever Was

Summary: He tries to love the heels. Really, he does. He knows Dave loves him in them. He knows, hey, it’s his job to look good. Right? Dave fixes cars and Klaus fixes dinner and cleans the house and looks oh so pretty. So, yes, he has to wear the heels. He doesn’t own any other shoes and he can’t go walking around barefoot. Not with his toenails painted black. Why were they black again? And, say, why did his wrist look so blank? He traced a shape that he couldn’t place onto his skin and waited for something to appear. Like invisible ink. aka, Life is perfect for the Hargreeves, which must mean something is wrong. How fortunate that Klaus is smarter than anyone gives him credit for.

Rating: NR⎜Pairing: Klaus/Dave, Diego/Eudora, Five/Delores⎜Word Count: 8k+⎜Complete (1/1)

This fic is so. freaking. cool. It’s closest probably to a horror story? It’s definitely creepy and uneasy, but it’s also melancholy and thrilling and - very importantly -it features Smart Capable Underestimated but Badass Klaus! I am willing to bet you have not read anything else in the fandom like this, and that you are going to be absolutely captivated. I know I am!

Klaus doesn’t want to see Dave, which is not a feeling he should have. He knows this. He knows he wants to see Dave every day for the rest of his life. So why is he running? Why are his feet carrying him to the bathroom? Why is he locking the door? The tumblers clang into place. His hands shake and he’s going to fall over and brain himself if he doesn’t catch his balance. He can only remember feeling so terrified twice in his life—except he can’t. He can’t remember it at all. So he can’t remember ever feeling this terrified.

It’s just Dave.

#tuafeedbackfest #long post #tua fic rec #also sunriseseance is a very good and lovely person with an great blog and excellent opinions #soooo probably you should go follow her and read and comment on all her fics?#and then when you are big a fan as me go send her some anons asking for the Allison wedding fic #because you are going to love that too #and anything else she writes!!

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