#her costumes are something fuckin else truly

[kaleidoscopic-quiddity]

'todoroki doesnt even want to be a hero, thats just something endeavor forced him into/pushed onto him'

did??? we all??? watch??? the same show????

todoroki openly antagonises Endeavor, to his face, numerous times 

even as a literal toddler he would stand up to endeavor, yelling at him to not hurt rei, and after rei pours the hot water on his face, todoroki told endeavor ‘it’s your fault she hurt me’ 

he slaps his hand away after the provisional licence remedial training, and in the endeavor agency arc he tells him to ‘stop acting like my dad in front of my friends’ 

just in general his manner of speaking to Endeavor is very disrespectful and outwardly aggressive in japanese

basically, hes not afraid of pissng off his dad, at all, even in public

so if todoroki truly didnt want to be a hero, what gives you the impression that he wouldnt just straight up refuse to go to UA, or at least do everything within his power to fail his classes/get expelled??

the whole point of his fight with midoriya at the sports festival is todoroki accepting himself and that his power is his own, not endeavor's, and that its okay for him to become a hero using it

literally what does todoroki say after midoriya yells 'its your power isnt it?!' at him? in that moment where himself admits that he forgot all about endeavor and wasnt thinking about him at all??? he says 'I want to be a hero too'

look i get why this take is popular, lots of people can relate to todoroki in that they have shitty/abusive parents who forced them into a career path or life style they dont wanna do

and so obviously they project those feelings of discontent and resentment back onto todoroki

but in the literal canonical text of bnha, his character aspires to be a great hero just like midoriya and bakugou

if heroics truly was 100% something that endeavor just forced onto him, why did todoroki go to help midoriya and iida in hosu? why did he follow midoriya and bakugou at jaku? why did, along with kirishima, he approach yaoyorozu to get a nomu tracker off of her after bakugou was kidnapped and say that he was going to make a rescue attempt whether or not midoriya or anyone else joined him? why did he run in to try to save all might from the nomu at USJ?

like???? i dont have anything against people having differing interepretations of a character or headcanons from me, ofc different ppl will read the same thing differently

but this is a take that is just so extremely the opposite of todoroki's canonical characterisation it baffles me that its so common??

did we all miss the part where he was deeply frustrated with himself for failing he provisional liscence exam? or where he decided that he needed to be the one to stop dabi?? the fact that he carries first aid supplies in his hero costume so he can better help people?? or how he suggested a concert for the school festival because he thought itd be a good idea to do something 'fun' and 'stress relieving' for the other students at UA???

idk, ofc at the end of the day ppl can headcanon what they like and everyones interpretations are valid and none of this actually causes any harm to anybody etcetera etcetera, art is subjective and all that

(like this is benign fandom bullshit for a mediorce shounen battle series, im self aware that none of this actually matters)

but idk im just still confused as to how ppl seem to miss the point so fuckin badly with todoroki's character

[banannabethchase]

A mistletoe sequel of sorts, but it's just Claudio in an elf hat popping up behind pairings and waggling a piece of mistletoe over their heads. (bonus points for including Warange as unsuspecting victims)

Tis the Season - also on AO3

~

Claudio decides to take it upon himself to improve the holiday spirit of the AEW roster. Unfortunately, Yuta is dragged along for the ride.

~

I…completely forgot about the Warange part. I'm sorry, love! Anyway, this is pure cracky shenanigans. More of a spiritual successor than a sequel, I hope you enjoy! This fic fought me, but I won the battle! This is also for the December prompt challenge day 10: Santa's elves

~

“What.”

Yuta expected to walk into the BCC room to see Mox bitching at Bryan about his eye. Maybe Claudio sitting on the bench being all hot and weird about it.

He did not expect to see Claudio in an elf costume.

“Yuta!” he says, far too gleeful. “I bought one for you, too.”

Yuta blinks. “What.” He seems unable to say anything else. Words fail him.

Claudio shoves something in his arms. “Come on. Put it on, love.”

Yuta sighs. Fighting this would probably be the most rational thing, but he’s never been accused of rationality when it comes to Claudio. “What is it?”

“A matching costume.” He beams at Yuta, looking so sweet and eager Yuta can’t refuse.

He sighs. Resistance, truly, is futile. “Alright. Lay it on me.”

As he gets dressed, he asks, “So, what exactly is the plan?”

“We are, in AEW, severely lacking in holiday cheer,” Claudio says. Yuta takes a moment to admire the way he’s bent over to dig in his bag, because he’s not above ogling. “I supposed I could intervene.”

Yuta blinks at him. “Isn’t this going to ruin our scary badass cred?”

Claudio levels him with a look both terrifying and disturbingly incongruent with the outfit. “I do not think we need to worry about that, no.”

Yuta groans. “God – fine. I hate you for this.”

Claudio’s face breaks into a smile. “Do you really, though?”

Yuta throws his jeans at Claudio, and adjusts his outfit.

~

Nyla’s yelling at Serpentico when something rather large and green jumps up behind her.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asks, dropping the fistful of Serpentico’s shirt as she turns to glare at Claudio.

The BCC idiot grins. “Mistletoe,” he says, jubilantly. “You two have to kiss.”

“We sure as shit don’t,” Nyla snarls. She looks around Claudio, where Yuta’s standing. He looks almost pained. Good. “You.”

Yuta’s head snaps up. “What?”

“Make your big Christmas tree ass elf leave us alone.”

“Sorry, do you think if I had any control over him I’d be in this costume?” He gestures to himself. “Please be realistic here.”

Nyla rolls her eyes, and turns her glare back on Claudio when he reaches up higher than she can grab with the mistletoe.

“We won’t be leaving until you fulfill the tradition,” Claudio singsongs. Nyla wishes he’d be a little miserable. About anything. Ever.

She groans. “Fuck. Fine.” She grabs the same handful of Serpentico’s shirt, kisses him on the forehead, and then releases him. “Consider that your Christmas present, you snake headed freak.”

Serpentico blinks up at her through the mask, shrugs, and walks away.

“If you two don’t leave right now…”

Yuta grabs Claudio by the arm and pulls. It might be the smartest thing Nyla’s ever seen him do.

~

Mox slaps at the side of the vending machine. “Fuckin’ technology,” he grumbles. He pulls back a leg to kick it, but it’s caught.

“The hell are you doing?” Hangman asks, dropping his foot like he’s not sure why he had it in the first place. “Quit beating up the vending machine.”

“You gonna drink my blood about it?” Mox retorts. He hits the side of the vending machine and the Coke finally falls out.

Hangman rolls his eyes. “You jealous or something?”

“All you did in our match was beat me up and hang me,” Mox says, and he can feels Hangman’s eyes on him as he takes a sip of the Coke. “Feels kind of like you were leading me on.”

“You’re stupid,” Hangman says. “Move.”

“Nah.”

He can tell Hangman’s about to lash out, possibly get his hands on him again, but then somebody walks in the room and Mox sort of wants to lose it.

“Don’t ask,” Yuta pleads.

“Mistletoe,” Claudio says, giddy.

“You look like an idiot,” Hangman says. “I thought you three were supposed to be, like, the scariest guys in the company.”

“That’s what I told him,” Yuta says. He gestures to his outfit. “And look at me now.”

“Look up,” Claudio insists, and Mox reluctantly follows his arm skyward.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Hangman says. “Are you really – mistletoe?”

“Lay it on me, Cowboy,” Mox says, puckering up.

Hangman rolls his eyes. “Jesus. You drink one guy’s blood and suddenly everybody thinks they have a right to you.” He leans in and kisses Mox, but it’s more than just a peck. Hangman goes intense with it – deep, demanding, a tongue that makes Mox wonder what else he could do with it. Before Mox can get really into it, though, Hangman pulls back and swipes his arm across his mouth.

“Hey!” Mox can’t explain why he feels mildly offended, but he does. “You didn’t wipe off Swerve’s blood.”

“Swerve’s blood didn’t taste like cigarettes,” Hangman retorts, and Mox has half an urge to hit him.

“Alright,” Yuta says, sliding between them. “You two gotta stop.”

Hangman laughs. “I’m not the one going in for seconds, but okay.” He winks at Mox and backs out of there, and Mox watches him walk away with a little too much zeal.

“Please stop being horny for every person on this roster,” Yuta pleads. He turns around to Claudio. “Can we be done yet?”

“Certainly not, Wheeler,” Claudio says, and Mox snorts as Yuta groans. “We have far more people to encounter.”

“Save me,” Yuta whimpers, but he follows Claudio anyway.

Mox begins to wonder when he lost his spot as the weirdest person in the BCC.

~

Kris is cross legged, chatting about upcoming tag opportunities while Willow tries a new braid in her hair, when a pair of elves makes their way into her vision.

“Oh. Hi.” She tries a smile at Wheeler, who seems…less than pleased. “You two look cute.”

“Again,” Wheeler says, “Claudio, we look cute. BCC are not supposed to be cute.”

“It works,” Willow says. “For you two, I mean.” Kris feels her tug, just a bit. “Alright. You’re all done.” She scoots down from behind Kris to sit next to her. “You guys have presents or something? Spreading holiday cheer?”

“Something like that,” Claudio says. Kris grins when he pulls out mistletoe.

“Never need an excuse for this,” she says, sliding her hand along Willow’s face until she’s leaning toward Kris, “but, sure, because of the mistletoe.”

Willow’s practically in her lap when she hears Claudio and Wheeler leave, but she’s too busy to say goodbye.

~

“I’m just saying,” Max says, upside down on the couch, “that if he really cared about me – us – that he would have at least called.”

“Exactly,” Anthony says, relaxing into the chair. He might finally be getting it. “You deserve better than –”

“But!” Max says, sitting up so fast he has to be dizzy. “If MJF was nervous, or scared, then he might not say anything!” That gleeful, endlessly optimistic look on his face comes back. “So maybe I need to reach out to him!”

Anthony prepares to give the speech for the thirtieth time in the thirtieth way that week, but then the door swings open.

“Hello, gentleman,” says a giant in an elf costume, which strikes Anthony to be a little backward. “How are we today?”

“Terrible,” Max says, flopping face down back onto the couch. He starts speaking into the pillow but, thankfully, none of them can figure out what he’s saying.

“He okay?” Yuta asks, frowning.

“It’s the MJF thing again,” Anthony says, waiving it off. Yuta nods. “What, uh. What exactly are you two doing here?”

Claudio moves his arm from behind his back and dangles a – oh boy. “It’s a holiday tradition,” Claudio explains, like it needs explanation.

“Max, sit up,” Billy says, a little too gently.

“No,” Max yells.

Billy sighs and walks over to Anthony. “Alright, then. Pucker up, buddy.”

Anthony lets Billy give him a quick little peck. It’s quite. For a moment. And then –

“You guys are kissing without me?!” Max yells.

When he launches himself into Anthony’s lap, Max gets a little too eager. Anthony’s used to it by now, though.

“Uh,” Yuta says. “We’ll be going now.”

Anthony, from where he’s still kissing Max, gives Claudio and Yuta a thumbs up.

~

Yuta and Claudio get laughed out of the Mogul Embassy’s doorway, death glared by the House of Black, and insulted by Toni Storm, who appears to believe they’re from It’s a Wonderful Life and are there to be her background stars.

“No, it’s a tradition,” Claudio says, wiggling the mistletoe. “See? You could kiss Luther, or Mariah.”

“Who on Earth is this Mariah woman everyone keeps speaking to me about?” Toni asks, victory curls bouncing around. Yuta’s about to drag Claudio out when Luther leans in and kisses Toni on the cheek. She turns pink.

“My word, butler,” she says, hand over her heart. “How very forward of you.”

“You got your kiss, Claudio,” Yuta says, grabbing a handful of his costume and yanking him so hard backward he stumbles. “Let’s go.”

They walk out of Toni’s room and make their way to their own locker room.

“Can I please take this costume off?” Yuta asks, flopping on the bench. “Today has been enough of a fever dream.”

Claudio walks up to him, grinning down. “Not yet,” he says, brushing some of Yuta’s hair off of his forehead. The hat falls off. “I don’t believe you have had your mistletoe kiss yet.”

Yuta looks up at him. “I kiss you all the time.”

“Yes,” Claudio says, resting a big hand on Yuta’s neck. His heart rate skyrockets. “But we’ve never kissed under the mistletoe, have we?”

“We haven’t,” Yuta breathes.

Claudio leans down and kisses him. He thought, a while back, he would learn to know what to expect. He never does. Claudio pulls him in like a riptide, and Yuta is more than willing to fall to it.

When Claudio stands back up, Yuta smiles at him. “Alright, fine.”

“Fine what.”

Yuta stands and grabs the mistletoe from Claudio’s hand. “I see the appeal.” He dangles it over his crotch. “Come on. You gotta kiss it, right?”

“Oh,” Claudio says, “oh, I see how it is.”

They laugh over each other as they shove each other into the shower, their costumes leaving a path on the floor.

They’re finishing with the shower when the locker room door slams.

It’s unmistakably Bryan who yells, “Who the fuck stripped an elf in here?!”

~

Mini Playlist: Underneath the Tree- Kelly Clarkson All I Want for Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey Christmas Past, Present, and Future - Ashlee Simpson Step Into Christmas - Elton John

[genderlessghoul]

8, 15, 18

8 : Have you been to a ritual?

I haaaaave I was at the Bridgeport ritual on August 20th. It was actually on my sister's birthday, when I told her I wouldn't be there that day, she asked me why and I just sent her a Swiss gif. She was like "are you fuckin kidding me".

I'm Canadian and I got there by bus, spent 20h travelling to the show. Would do it again in a heartbeat. It was everything. I'll never stop bragging about playing rock paper scissors with Swiss and Phantom

15 : Favourite ghoul costume era?

THIS ONE WAS MEANT FOR ME I SO HOPED SOMEONE WOULD ASK.

Impera in a heartbeat, I live for complicated costumes with infinite amount of details. There's so much happening on those costumes when you take the time to study them it's INCREDIBLE. From the fabric choices that are all so rich and different, to the accessories that were thought through down to the literal buttons on the shirts, I cannot not love them.

I adore the vests, the shape in the front and the metal work they did for those clasps. They're so detailed for something that's never getting seen from up close I LOVE it! The choice of the fabric makes me feral too, I'm not much of a fan of paisley pattern on a regular basis but that one??? Gorgeous to no end. Also a pain in the ass to find but that's another story. Also the back of their jackets??? Please 😩😩😩

And the capes!!! I know they were so impractical for the guitar-playing ghouls but FUCK were they gorgeous on them 😩 the contrast of the light blue satin with the (I'm pretty sure) black suede??? Insane. Beautiful. Gorgeous. The harness system they came up with so the capes wouldn't move around too much is also very much to be admired.

And don't even get me started on the helmets, I mean the idea to change the masks for helmets in and of itself is brilliant. But the design itself is simply gorgeous, so different from what we'd seen before with Ghost. ESPECIALLY different from what we'd seen with Prequelle, that was essentially just a remix of the Meliora masks. The execution of the design is amazing and I loved the idea of personalizing the helmets to each ghoul, so sad they got rig of that in the middle of the European leg. If they decide to ditch Dew's white horns, I might actually start a riot ngl.

If I could be left alone in a room with one of those costumes for 10 fucking minutes I'd truly die happy. Okay I'll move on or else I'm never shutting up.

18 :Favourite Ghost shirt?

Not really a shirt but I just have to say my batwing hoodie. I bought it at my ritual and let me tell you I had DREAMT of that hoodie! It was a lot of fucking money but so worth it, it's comfy as fuck. I'm so glad I got the official Ghost one instead of byuing the cheaper Hot Topic one cuz the HT one doesn't have a grucifix on the zipper and the print in the back is not the same quality.

[mino-diabolik]

DARK FATE — Mystic 「Dark 01」

[Dark Prologue]

[Location: Grand Hall — Tsukinami Mansion]

—Clink, clink—

Mystic: (I hate having dinner in this house…)

Kazuha: … …

Mystic: (And the looks I’m getting are of no help.)

—Bam!—

??? 4: Ahh, for fuck’s sake! I’ve been beatin’ my ass the whole day and ain’t nobody think of gettin’ me to grab a bite of somethin’?!

DJ: But Madam Elle… I did go to your lab and called you to dinner. You even responded that you would be right over.

Elle: Eh? You did? No way.

DJ: I did, madam.

Elle: Ugh, well, whatever. I only came out to fish out something to eat and tell y’all what I found.

Carla.

Carla: What is it?

Elle: That girl’s def not gon’ be of any use to us in that state. Even if you try to yank her heart right out of her chest this instant, it’s already been tainted. Her blood is nasty and her body is absolutely covered in bite marks.

Shin: You tasted it?

Elle: I just pinched her thumb. Poor girl didn’t even complain. She just sat there, like she was paralyzed.

Carla: The poison has gone so far into her heart…

I see.

Elle: Seems like it’ll be a whole pain in the ass if you want to retrieve that heart as a keepsake.

Mystic: What? What do you mean?

Carla: … …

Elle: Means somebody’s gotta pick up the duty of cleansing her blood.

Ain’t no fuckin’ way I’mma go near it. Bitch tasted like shit.

DJ can’t possibly do the job without fangs, neither Carla or Shin are gonna do it—

Shin: I didn’t say anything!

Elle: Oh? You’re volunteering, then?

Shin: Well——

Mystic: I can do it!

Kazuha: …You?

After everything you caused, do you really believe you can be trusted with something so vital?

Shin: Gotta give it to her.

Elle: Yup.

Carla: … …

DJ: … …

Mystic: C’mon now!

I’ve known Yui for a long time. I’m sure she’d be less keen to fight me off than anyone else in this table, and that’d be of help if you want to get the process done faster. Besides, I’m not affected by a Vampire’s scent. The current state of her blood won’t be an issue for me!

Kazuha: It is exactly because you are acquainted with her that I am less inclined to consider you for the task.

Mystic: (Huff… they’re all so stubborn. How am I supposed to plead my case when everyone is against me?!)

DJ: …Perhaps we should give him a chance.

Kazuha: …?

DJ: It is true he is yet to understand the costumes of the Tsukinami family, but how can you expect him to better himself if you don’t even allow him to learn?

I’d argue that taking care of a mortal and cleansing her blood is a task simple enough. Yes, they might be acquainted, but that does not mean much.

Carla: That does not mean we can trust him to forget personal feelings for——

DJ: Pardon me, Master Carla. But how many times have you been witness to friendships being voided for the sake of business?

Shin: D——

Carla: … …

Elle: Fuck me, what a woman. Are you sure you wanna stay married to a boring sack of testosterone like Shin?

Fufufu. Though, as outta pocket as that was, she’s right, you know? We wouldn’t be in this predicament if that weren’t the case.

Mystic: (Don’t just be mocking them while munching on berries, Elle! It’ll be a miracle if Carla doesn’t batter my mother dead on the spot!)

Carla: …I see.

—Bam! Clatter!—

Kazuha: You, insolent——!

Carla: Leave it, Kazuha.

Kazuha: … …

Mystic: …?

Carla: If you have so much faith in him, then the very least I can do is hope a son of my brother will not be the reason this family falls from grace.

Shin: … …

DJ: Will you agree to it?

Carla: …I suppose there is not much we can lose from a trial period.

Mystic: (——Hallelujah!)

Elle: …?! Coff, coff!

Kazuha: Are… are you truly alright with that, father?

Carla: Do you have any complaints?

Kazuha: …No, sir.

Mystic: (Bullshit! You look like you’re about to pop a vessel!)

Elle: Welp, that settles it.

Mystic.

Mystic: Ye—yeah…!

Elle: Let’s head down so you can pick up your darling snack.

Mystic: Down?

Elle: I tossed the girl down into one ’f the cells down below, ‘f course. Wasn’t ‘bout to let her stink up my lab!

Mystic: (She’s with Ruki and the others… that’s good.)

Carla: Mystic.

Mystic: …Ye—yes, my lord?

Carla: I hope there will be no repeat of your errors this time.

Mystic: Yes, sir…

「 Dark 01 — End 」

[Dark 02]

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Reddit 8/30-10/3 2022 (may be nsfw or offensive)

“The skills are impressive, the method on the other hand doesn't seem very effective.” “If I have a chance to kill, I will.” “Get the hell away from my meal.” “Tears, piss, umentionables, whatever, I soak the whole fuckin bed.” “Yup, you are gay. Congratulations, we'll be contacting you to let you know your next steps.” "Down this hallway, then turn right at the hooker" “That’s freaking macabre“ “I’d shag her and expect some cookies after“ “Has a man ever wanted to be kicked in the balls twice?“ “It was coyotes” “It sounds like attempted murder to me.” “I understand it's "I'm so sexy I can treat you like shit" attitude, but what about "I'm so confident, I don't have to put people down" confidence?” “Provided your vagina doesn't have teeth, we're good.” “I'm not about to just be eating sushi off some naked lady.” “Pasta is love. Pasta is life.” “Hey, just wanted to say if you need anything, fuck you.” “If I'm paying $1000 for a steak it better come with an escort“ “I think I'd prefer the traditional alarm over baby shark“ “We should start a band.” “You have to admit that it is extremely satisfying to shove spaghetti down your throat.” “So basically Burning Man is a hippie idea in spirit hijacked by yuppies.” “Maybe you should go to the doctor“ “Never knew dildo gloves existed. I have learned something new today.” “That's the thing about getting old. You never feel like you've become old. Everything just starts hurting, things similar to this slap you in the face with the time that has passed, and those damned kids won't stay off your fucking lawn.“ “Sink or swim baby.“ “What does the piercing have to do with it?” “Your body may be a 50 year old costume but the kid inside you needs constant fun.” “He deepthroats a bendy straw like a pro, he's good“ “The only time I have actually, truly contemplated death as an escape was during my kidney stones.” “If not friend, why friend shaped?” “Great. Now I want a bear“ “I thought everything is legal in Florida“ “So he was busty? Noiiiice�� “Why is this so unnerving?” “That's the face of wanting to be anyplace else but here.” “This is definitely attempted murder, right?” “I wanna see drag queens fight monsters and ghouls. I'd watch that shit all day.” “Women clothes lack pockets so the bag/purse industry can thrive” “What’s worse than no pockets? Fake pockets.” “The Loch Ness monster is the ghost of a dinosaur” "If I get fucking "whale penis" in my notifications one more goddamn time, I'm gonna lose it.” “JFK shot first.” "I'm a flat earther. Really. The earth is two-thirds covered in water. The water is not carbonated. Ergo, the earth is flat.” “Nobody shot JFK. His head just did that.” “The government has been in contact with aliens and are operating in the deep depths of the ocean and Antarctica.” “If it flies, it spies!” “Are jorts a disability?”

[shurisneakers]

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time).  big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights​ for this specific imagery 

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado. 

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right. 

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch. 

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation. 

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

evilkneival123@gmail.com just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song. 

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.  

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries. 

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

__

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons. 

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him. 

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough. 

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second. 

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?” 

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red. 

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles. 

A small smirk makes its way onto your face. 

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there. 

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them. 

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground. 

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder. 

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats. 

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand. 

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.  

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under. 

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place.  He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it. 

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt. 

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then. 

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower. 

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place. 

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them. 

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.” 

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine. 

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack. 

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door. 

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind. 

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel. 

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited. 

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist. 

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest. 

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.” 

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment. 

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. ��Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind. 

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.” 

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing. 

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly. 

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this. 

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 10:

“Hey, Bakugou.” You greet easily, waving at him. “Can you believe it?”

“Jesus- what the hell are you on about now?”

“Nothing. Just, this marks the third time I’ve seen you without injury. Good on you buddy, setting a personal record and everything.”

He huffs, pushing off the wall. Bakugou is without his costume, clad in just normal sweats. The sight makes you feel a little bad- it was obviously his day off, but there he was working. Sacrificing his time for you.

“Fuck you.” He grumbles, without any bite. “Seriously. Fuck you.”

“C’mon, grumpy, don’t get so huffy.” You say playfully. “I was mostly joking, but I did mean it. I think I like you a whole lot better when there’s no blood involved.”

He starts to smile, just for a second, before he quickly evens his expression. It’s like he’s trying to hide the fact that it was there at all, quickly spinning around and starting off at a brisk pace. 

“Woah, slow down, no need to run, speedy. I’ll take it back if you’re so allergic to me being nice.”

Bakugou doesn’t respond, but he does slow down. Just minutely. Hardly even at all if you really think about it, but hey, at least you’re not basically running after him anymore.

“What’s got you so cheery, hah?” He asks after a beat, making an intentional point not to make eye contact. “It’s late- you’re not tired again?”

His tone catches you off-guard, something accusatory underneath that has you scrunching your nose. You’re not exactly sure what he’s getting at, but you can read his prickly tone for what it is- Bakugou is making fun of you. 

“No. I’m actually not tired, thank you very much.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night.”

“You know, that sentence from anyone else would offend me- but from you?” You scoff, squinting your eyes at him. “Well, I’m sure it was meant as an insult, not an insinutation; so I’ll refrain from calling you a pig. For now.”

“Call me anything and see where it gets ya, leech.”

“What’re you gonna do? Fight me?”

“Please, it wouldn’t be a fight.” He snorts, kicking at a rock in the road. It flies down the alley, all the way past the streetlamp’s glow. “See? I’d slaughter you.” 

“Yes! Probably!" You say in faux exasperation. "But it’s because you have way more practice at slaughtering people! I don’t know why you’re bragging about that- that’s totally not something normal people brag about!”

You throw your hands up, gesturing wildly, and Bakugou just sort of watches you. Doesn’t really react other than to evade one of your errant hands. You just barely miss him, the tips of your fingers clipping the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“What- nothing? You’ve got nothing to say about that? Course you don’t- because you’re proud of slaughtering people. Is that it? Huh?”

“I’m proud of winning.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Close enough.” He shrugs. “'Sides, it’s not my fault I wasn’t listenin’. Ya said so many damn words to me.”

“That’s so rude! You-“

Seeing his smile, you cut yourself off half-way. It should hardly even count as a smile, really, it’s much more of a smirk- something entirely self-indulgent and dripping with arrogance. You’re not sure if you wanna punch him in the mouth or giggle.

“You jerk. You’re messing with me!” On impulse, you knock your shoulders into his. Bakugou doesn’t flinch- nor does he budge whatsoever. “You’re just being mean on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Course.”

“Why? Just, I don’t know, be nice?”

“Fuck that. No thanks.”

“You incredibly rude- you know that?”

“And you’re fuckin’ annoying.” He retorts, knocking his shoulders into yours. Bakugou smirks when you stumble. “See- I’d murder you in a fight.”

“No one was debating that!”

He just bites his lip, throwing his head back. It’s like Bakugou is trying to hide his smile; exposing the strong column of his throat to you, pale skin gone 10 shades of gold under the streetlamp.

It steals the breath from your lungs- how devastatingly beautiful he can be. You have to tear your eyes away.

“Hey, Bakugou, it’s your day off right?”

He eyes you a little strangely. “Yes? Why?”

“Geez- Don’t be so suspicious.” You laugh. “I only asked because I was curious.”

“The hell you have to be curious about?”

“Just what you’d be doing right now otherwise- you know, if you weren’t stuck walking me-“

“‘m not stuck. Wouldn’t do this if I didn’t need to.”

“Yeah, but still.” You take a breath. “What I mean, is that, I’m sorry if this is burdening you. I know this probably isn’t what you wanted to do on your day off.”

He eyes you, sniffing for a moment while he juts his chin out. “Eh- it’s fine. Walking this far outta my way is good excercise anywa-“

“This far? Oh my god- are you serious? Where do you live?”

“Far enough.”

“Bakugou.” You say sternly, staring him down. You’re well aware he’s not a man who’s easily scolded into revealing the truth, but damn if you weren’t going die trying. “Seriously- how far?”

“Fuck’s it matter to you for?”

“Because it just does! Now, c’mon really, I’m gonna feel like, super bad if you say you’ve gotta take a train her-“

“No train, so quit bitching.” He scans the street for a moment, before turning back to look at you. “Not that far. Half an hour, maybe, if I was running.”

“If you were running? What about walkin-“

“Not walking so it doesn’t matter.”

“It does!”

“It fuckin’ doesn’t-“

Then he’s standing ram-rod straight, slapping an open palm over your stomach and pushing you back. You’re flying back into the shadows, back slamming against the brick wall. Gasping, air knocked clean out of your lungs, it’s all you can do to keep your eyes open and watch him leave.

Bakugou hardly even looks back before he’s soaring past the end of the alley, explosions igniting under his palms. There’s no one, all is quiet, silent and tense and then- bam.

A mottled mass of muscles and pulsating flesh barrels through the building beside Bakugou. Debris rains down onto the street, down onto the exact spot you were standing moments ago. The flying detrius knocks Bakugou off course, and the blonde hardly dodges before the creature is slinging fists his way.

“Shouldn’t’a been makin’ such a scene!” Bakugou is all smirks and haughty confidence, seamlessly twisting and dodging the creature’s strikes. “Gave yourself away- I’ve got you now!”

Even breathless and winded, you can’t help but stare. Bakugou truly is something else- a terrifying bullet in the air, bordering on frenetic as he dodges. He’s so fast you’re worried he’ll catch fire. There’s a reckless sort of smile on his face, stretching his lips back around canines you’re sure are sharper than before. He’s throws his left palm out, explosion recoil throwing him just past the creature’s next attack. It’s enough of an opening for Bakugou to surge in, flashbang fingertips making contact with the beast’s abdomen.

“Really, that’s all?” He challenges, grinning like mad when the beast flies back from the impact. “No strategy at all? That’s not gonna fuckin’ work!”

And then he looks back at you, just for a singular moment, while the beast is bent over from his previous blow. The sight nearly knocks the air out of your lungs all over again.

Bakugou is terrifying. Manic and bloodthirsty and feverish almost, chest heaving with every labored breath. There’s something wild in his eyes, coloring his features in blood that hasn’t even been spilled yet. It’s intimidating and scary and overwhelming, but he’s dazzling too. A crazed smile, so blinding and brilliant, that it leaves an after-image long after he’s blasted away again.

Something snaps in you then, and you’re diving behind the nearest dumpster. It’s a little gross and cramped, but you hear plaster cracking around you, and suddenly it’s not so bad anymore. Your eyes are wide, watching the battle- and even when hidden it still feels too close.

Your heart is trapped in your throat, a battering ram even as you try to catch your breath. Everything is loud, and chaotic, and you’ve never been this close to a real battle before. It scares you. You clasp your hands around your ears, trying to block out the gargling and explosions. It’s not enough, your breath still picking up as explosion impact rattles the asphalt beneath your feet.

“You’re done!” You hear him shout, and suddenly the air goes white and hot, and bright.

You screw your eyes shut, and bite back a scream as an explosion rattles every surrounding window. The sound swallows everything, and the light show is even worse. Even through your eyelids it’s blazing. Bright enough to have you diving to the ground and tucking your head between your knees.

Then it’s quiet. Complete silence other than the ringing in your ears. You hear impact, a warbled groan, and then the sound of his voice.

“You fucker.” He roars. “I’m fuckin’ busy, you weak bitch, can’t ya fuckin’ see that?”

Another thud. Another groan.

“All this shit for some cash? Just get a job, you fuckin’ loser. Like the goddamn rest of us.”

You peak your head over the dumpster, and see Bakugou standing tall over the collapsed body. You’re not entirely sure how the villian’s quirk operates, but the mass of flesh is deflating by the second, leaving behind a skinny mess of bones and sinew.

“A front, hah? Pathetic.” Bakugou sneers, grinding his teeth before he snaps. “On your fuckin’ feet weakling- ‘m taking you in.”

Bakugou hauls the skinny man to his feet, trapping rail-thin arms tight to the man’s back. It’s only then that you choose to emerge, staggering slighty on your shaking legs. It’s like you’ve got tremors- your body practically bowled over by the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“H-help- I didn’t-“ The skinny man starts, before Bakugou is sending a knee into the base of his spine.

“Don’t speak to her, you shit-stain.” Bakugou curls his lip. “Shut the hell up.”

You’re not really sure what to do then- caught between wanting to high-tail it in the complete opposite direction, and surging towards Bakugou. Because, if you weren’t certain before, you definitely were now; Bakugou knew what he was doing. And if worst ever came to worst, he’d stay true to all his threats. Nobody was getting to you while he was around.

“Follow. C’mon.” Bakugou nods towards the end of the street. “Police station. You know where it is. Let’s get the hell to it already.”

You just start walking- almost on autopilot. There’s a weird fuzz settling in your brain, the adrenaline seeping and leaving nothing but exhaustion behind. It’s disorienting because you weren’t even part of the fight- Bakugou had shoved you back long before you could have ever been in any real danger.

You’re not sure how he knew- how he could have possibly predicted the villain coming through the wall, but even still, you’re gratetful. Because you’re not hurt, only frazzled where you would’ve been massacred without him there.

Bakugou waits for you to pass him by, and only once you’re a good few steps ahead, does he start shoving his prisoner forward. The walk is tense and silent, the only noise being the occasional pained groan from the skinny man. There’s an undeniable air of intimidation coming from Bakugou, rolling off his skin and permeating every spare inch of air. It only adds more stress to an already harrowing situation.

The police station lies just where you remembered it, but you’ve never been this close before. You’d only seen it down the end of the street as you passed by- only through the fuzzy haze of exhaustion after your shift ended. Now there’s nothing hazy about it- just a stark white building and big glass doors. Big glass doors that Bakugou is surging through, prisoner in tow, and ordering you to stay behind.

When he’s through the door, it’s like your heart finally starts to catch up. You can feel it’s thud slow against you ribs, no longer jumping at every slight sound. You eyelids feel heavy, further weighed down by the headache you feel coming on. You lean against the wall of the station, bending slightly at the waist as you ground the heels of your palm against your temple.

“All good?” You hear his voice some time later, Bakugou’s footsteps heavy as he approaches. “You get hurt?”

“No- ‘m fine.” You chew your cheek, straightening as you look up at him. “I think.”

He studies you for a moment, red eyes flitting across your face. Bakugou grimaces. “You’re shaking.”

“Yeah. Was scared.”

“It’s fine now.” He huffs, frustration lacing his features. Bakugou clenches his hand, releases, and repeats twice over before he speaks again. “Got ‘em already, so you can chill the hell out now. Alright?”

“Yeah- yeah sure.”

You try to agree, but your voice doesn’t sound right when it leaves your throat. It’s a little too hoarse, empty of almost all inflection. You’re not particularly pleased with it and Bakugou is even less so.

“You need a few minutes or something?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, like even asking the question pains him. “Need to call somebody?”

Bakugou looks incredibly uncomfortable- eyes shifting around wildly and refusing to settle. All of his battlefield-confidence, even that self-assured smirk seems to have disappeared entirely. He huffs a pained breath and leans back against the wall next to you. His shoulders are just barely touching yours, voice pinched and tense when he speaks.

“I know it’s loud- but it’s over now. Now you just go home, and you sleep. Nothing is gonna happen to you.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Bakugou tilts his head skyward. He grinds his teeth, once, twice, and smooths out his grimace. “And I’ll fuckin’ be there so don’t go spiraling about it, alright? You’re safe now.”

You nod, rolling your lips together for a moment. He’s not meeting your eyes, not even attempting to, but you can’t help but stare. Can’t help but track all the lines of his face; the way his nose slopes, and the set of his eyebrows. He doesn’t look like before. Not crazed, or manic, or brutal. He’s just Bakugou. Maybe a little grumpy, but mostly just uncomfortable- exactly the way you’ve come to know him.

Something in you settles at bit at that.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let's go." You kick off the wall, putting one foot in front of the other. "I'm more than ready to be home."

Bakugou just watches you, and you can see him reach a hand out before immediately dropping it. His lip curls up in disgust- and that just confuses you. You wonder where the Bakugou from a few minutes ago went; the one who seemed so entirely sure of himself.

"Faster." He says, overtaking you in one long stride. "Stallin' around at night is never a good idea."

You suppose he's right, but you never would've believed him before.

Prior to tonight, you had never been a part of a villain attack. You hadn't even seen a villain on anything other than TV re-runs. Your neighborhood was quiet, the streets never holding any danger, even at night. Now, though, every shadow seems suspicious, every sound a precursor for something far worse. Your well aware you just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time that night, but that didn't make the reality any easier to handle. If Bakugou hadn't been there, if he hadn't show up dead on your balcony months ago, then you would've been gravely injured by all that falling debris.

The thought makes you feel weak all over again. Has your fingers curling in your gloves- itchy and uncomfortable and helpless.

You're quiet as you walk, caught up in a million spiraling thoughts. Bakugou doesn't seem keen on conversation either, keeping a few paces ahead and scanning for other danger. Occasionally he'll turn back, check to make sure you're following, and all you can really offer is a nod and a shaky sort of smile. It doesn't satisfy him at all- you can see that every time he sets his jaw.

"Oi- Leech." He snaps in front of your eyes, waving his hand back and forth. "It's- stop lookin' like that already. All freaked the fuck out. You look ridiculous."

His haughty tone as your blood warming, fingers clenching at your sides as you walk. You're not sure what reaction he's after, but all you can really think to do is get angry.

"I am freaked out! You were there! You saw that guy! He was huge!" You snap, squinting your eyes and waving your hands around. "If you weren't- I- what am I supposed to do when that shit happens? Huh? I can't fight, and even if I could I wouldn't, so what am I supposed to-"

"Nothing." He interrupts. "You do nothing, and you hide. Like you did."

"Yes, because you pushed me! If you hadn't I would've been crushed by all that- and how on Earth did you even know he was coming?"

"Vibrations. In the ground." He squints at you, a little confused. "Did you not-"

"No!"

"Damn," He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "You really couldn't feel that? Jesus, you really are clueless. No wonder you were so freaked out."

In that moment, you're a little sure you could strangle him. All his skill you'd seen earlier suddenly didn't matter at all, and you were sure you could take him down with nothing but rage alone.

He- vibrations? You didn't feel anything! You felt nothing and even if you had, you would've assumed it was an earthquake. No one except for him and his battle-addled brain would've ever assumed it was a villain of all things!

"Calm down," He seems to be fighting a smile, lip twitching up. "You look fuckin' ridiculous right now. 'm not scared of you, leech."

"You should be! I'm about to strangle you right now-"

"For what?"

"For- for- I don't know! You just make me so angry with your 'Oh, you didn't feel that?' bullshit!" You tilt your voice lower, coating it in gravel to mimic him. "Of course I didn't feel anything! I'm not like you- I don't have freaky super-human instincts and explosions and I can't just go fight somebody!"

True to his word, your outburst doesn't seem to scare him. If anything if seems to pull the smile from him more, lips pulling back into a grin even he has no chance of hiding.

"There she is." He stuffs his hands in his pockets, falling back a little to walk right beside you. "Thought you'd gone into shock or somethin'."

"So you- on purpose?"

"Said that shit about vibrations? Yeah." His smile turns wolfish, all sharp canines and pink gums. "There were no fuckin' vibrations, idiot. I heard the plaster cracking."

In that moment you're the surest you've ever been- you were going to murder Bakugou Katsuki.

"You dick!"

Your hands are out before you can stop them, shoving forcefully at his side. He just looks at you, rolling his eyes, and then decides to let you tip him sideways off the curb. It's the worst kind of victory- a pity one that he let you have.

"Chill out, already." He laughs. "Only said shit so you'd stop bein' all miserable. You should be fuckin' thankin' me."

"I'm not thanking you!"

He steps forward, one long stride eclipsing you entirely. Then he spins, facing you with another crooked grin, and you're digging your heels into the cement to avoid crashing directly into his chest.

"I said-" He starts, hands in his pockets and leaning forward until he's practically towering over you. "You should be thanking me."

His voice is low, sly and challenging as he grins. He looks positively predatory- but attractive too. The worst kind that leaves your heart stuttering in your chest for almost no discernable reason.

"G-get away from me." You fluster, taking a step back. "I'm not thanking you."

He shrugs, falling back to a safe distance. You don't miss it though- the way his grin goes just a little wider, entirely satisfied. He won, and he knows it.

"Suit yourself, then leech." He says, voice light. "If ya wanna mouth off so much, then 'm not fuckin' saving you next time."

He says the words, but you're almost entirely sure he doesn't mean them. Not with the way he is now- beaming and pleased under the moonlight. You wonder if he always gets like this; so happy just after a victory. It's the kind of sight that almost makes the entire ordeal worth it. Almost.

You walk through the doors of your apartment, shuddering a long sigh of relief. The walls feel safe, security and peace etched into familiar walls. Even with Bakugou stomping behind you, the serenity isn't disturbed all that much. He's still in his rare good mood apparently, and he doesn't even grumble whatsoever.

Truth be told, you're still a little shaken, but the interior of your apartment puts you at ease. Even if you don't feel nearly as infallible as before, home is a good feeling- it always is.

"You know- you know that you just got unlucky, right?" Bakugou seems to struggle for a moment, kicking the door shut behind him. "It's- that's- shit like that doesn't usually happen here."

You're not sure where his sentiment is headed, and he must see it on your face. He flares his nostrils, sighing something long-suffering and dramatic.

"I'm sayin'- that wasn't part of anything else. It was just the one idiot, so it's not any more dangerous here than it used to be. 'm sayin' don't waste your time worryin' about that shit."

Something in you warms a bit- just a fraction. You're not sure how he knew, how he always seems to know just what you're thinking, but at this moment you don't care to find out. There are some comforts better left experienced instead of studied- and you figure this might be one of them.

You smile, something soft and fond. "I take it back- I will thank you. So thank you. I'm sure I'd be a lot worse off if you weren't around."

You watch him fluster, watch him itch in his skin and shift his weight around. Eventually he settles on turning his back, moving towards your fridge as he speaks.

"Probably. You froze up completely- woulda been piss poor job performance to let you get killed." He's swinging the fridge door open, and the white light just makes it more apparent- his cheeks are pink. "Got ice packs in here somewhere?"

"I-Ice packs?"

"Yeah. Knuckles are gonna bruise up if I don't ice 'em."

You look a little closer then, at his fingers curled around the handle of your fridge. His knuckles are a little swollen, bruised up and red where the skin had split. It doesn't look too bad, much less serious than any other injury he'd come to you with, but that doesn't change the itching in your own fingers. You want to help him- now more than ever it seems.

"Shit- sorry." You breathe out, nearing a little to get a closer look. "I was so freaked I didn't even think about asking- are you okay? You're okay, right? Nothing else, no bones or blood or-"

"Calm down. 'm fine."

You look at him again, squinting for eyes for a moment. He just rolls his own, extending his arms out and flipping them. He was telling the truth- there's only one other scratch on him, and even that was already scabbed over. The only issue were his knuckles- and that sets you at ease.

"You want me to wrap them for you?" You ask, looking up at him. "Oh wait- actually, you'd probably want to do that yourself, huh? Since you're not on the brink of death this time and actual-"

"You do it."

"Huh?"

"I said- you do it." He won't meet your eyes, turning back to your fridge and opening it up once more. He makes himself right at home, grabbing one of the water bottles off the shelf without asking. "Did it all the other times, so you do it. Don't think you're gonna get away with cuttin' corners on me."

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, that I know you find it annoying when I'm all fussy so I just-"

"Shut up already. You continuing to run your mouth is the only thing that's annoying me right now."

You're about to retort, something offended and assuredly juvenile, but you decide against it. That night had been filled with far too much conflict for your liking, and you weren't about to incite more of it. If he wanted you to wrap his knuckles, then you'd wrap his knuckles. You figured it's the least you could do for him.

Turning your back on him, you start for the bathroom, and the first aid kit inside. A part of you considers just permanently moving the kit into the kitchen, but that sort of seems like you're just inviting more misfortune. You keep hoping that one day you'll stop having to patch Bakugou up at all, but from the looks of it, that isn't likely. Not even a little bit considering his obvious bloodlust.

"You wanna-" You start, walking back into the kitchen. You're shocked into stillness by the sight of him searching through your cupboards. "Um, what exactly are you doing?"

"Hungry."

"Okay, caveman, I just- you're not seriously trying to cook right now are you?" You near him, hands hovering in the air. You're sure he wouldn't appreciate it, but a large part of you just wants to grab at his shoulders and shove him away from everything. "Stop that- lemme get you fixed up first. Then I can call for something. I'm not gonna let you exert yourself any more than you already have."

Bakugou seems a little perturbed by that, whipping his head around until you can see wild red eyes. You almost sigh; what you wouldn't give for him to just chill out for once.

"I'm not saying you can't cook. You probably could, I don't know." You near a little more, dropping the first aid kit onto the countertop. "I'm saying, you've already done enough today, and you deserve to take it easy. So let me help you by wrapping your hands up. That's all."

Bakugou's in the midst of another internal struggle, before he visibly forgoes it. His shoulder's drop and the tension leaks until he's settling into one of your dining chairs. He sets his hands out on the table, clearing his throat at you until you kick into motion.

At this point, cleaning up his hands is practically a daily chore. You've gone through the motions more than enough times to be adjusted, but even still, his hands still freak you out a little. You'd never seen anyone who radiated so much heat- even just being next to him was like sitting in front of an open flame.

Your fingers are gentle, skidding over his hands with feather-light touches. He seems to slump in his chair, eventually just laying his head on the outstretched arm you weren't actively working on. He watches you closely the entire time though, red eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"Do it again." He says. "Too loose. Do it again."

You're half-way through wrapping his right hand, only a small amount of bandage left. Not only would you have to do the bandage over entirely, but you'd have to unwrap it completely first.

"You always say that," You mutter, exasperation coloring your voice. "What makes it so much better the second time around, huh? I do it the exact same."

"It's just better. Takes longer."

You're not really sure what he means by that, and Bakugou doesn't look all that thrilled that he said the words at all. He jumps in his chair, cheeks gone pink as he digs his face into the skin of his arm. He's hiding.

It strikes you as even but odd, but you shrug off the strangeness all the same. You're getting far too used to his particular brand of bizarre.

"All better now?" You goad, patting the bandage after you've finished re-wrapping. "Everything feel nice and perfect for Prince Bakugou?"

He lifts his head. "You're not funny."

"You always say that too. But it's okay, I know one day you'll finally come around and appreciate me."

He just laughs under his breath, but he smiles too. Grins something tiny and small that he hides in his shoulder.

You start finishing up his other hand, and Bakugou doesn't say anything otherwise. He just sits, resting his head on his arm, and watching you intently. He's all calm and even breathing, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. You'd thought him adrenaline-crazed earlier, but it seemed he was coming off of that high rapidly. You could feel the exhaustion too- almost lulled by your movements just as much as he was.

You start gathering away all of your materials, and he doesn't even move. Just sits in perfect stillness at your table.

"I- I didn't accidentally touch you right? That's not why you're like that?" You ask, smothering a yawn. "Super exhausted, I mean."

He shakes his head. "Nah. Normal tired. Didn't fuck up this time, leech."

You don't have it in you to respond, hardly even rolling your eyes at his remark. His jabs don't hold much bite anymore- you begin to wonder if he's actually getting nicer or if you're just growing a ridiculous tolerance.

You brush off the thought, pushing away from your table and rising from the chair. "You still hungry?"

"Yeah. Wanna sleep first though so don't worry about it."

"Okay; well, I'm definitely going to so-"

"I said don't." He supplies evenly, finally sitting up in his seat. "It's fine. 'm not fuckin' starvin' or anything."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

His insistence sells you, but you're not sure if it's because you actually believe him or because you just want to. Either way, you figure it doesn't matter much in the end, not to the way your limbs are quickly bowing to exhaustion. You feel the fatigue settling in, and you'd like to blame that for your next actions.

"C'mon then, sleep time, I guess." You say.

Then you cross the kitchen, passing behind him, dropping your hand on his shoulder. You hardly let it sit, just running your thumb over his shirt once, twice, and then continuing on your way.

He takes several seconds to finally follow you into the living room. Enough to have you looking back in confusion, unable to understand why he looked so very stunted where he still sat.

"Jesus, you're annoying." He finally grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

His steps are loud as he crosses the room, stopping just a few inches in front of you. He grabs at your arm, raising your wrist himself and plucking the glove off in one fluid grab. It if wasn't so sudden an action- so ridiculous and fast and borderline violent, you might have even been flustered.

As it was though, he just grabbed your wrist before you could really register it.

Familiar warmth floods your veins. The same burning, slow heat that makes it;s way through each vein and artery. You think maybe your knuckles ache a little bit too, but it's too hard to tell through your quickly increasing sleep fog.

Bakugou lets you go pretty quick, falling back on your couch in almost the same moment.

"Better?" You ask, mirth warming your words. "Had to do it yourself because I was taking too long?"

"No, 'cause you pissed me off."

"Doing what?"

"You know what you're fuckin' doing."

Then he's grabbing the blanket, settling it over himself gracelessly while he flops over. He's face-first into the cushions now, effectively ending the conversation in much the way he typically does- by refusing to engage entirely.

You just roll your eyes a litItle fondly, still not even beginning to understand.

/-/

ooooo boy i am so sorry y'all for this late uPDATe,,, pls i usually update my fics way faster than this but sometimes life rlly just do be happenin lmaoooooo

n e wayz, ty for reading and supporting my work!! y'all are the absolute best i could ever ask for!!!

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 23

A/N:  *sings* Taaaake me to church...

February 25th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was officially 22 years old.  

Despite all the events of yesterday, she was happy.  She had a few texts from friends and some Instagram notifications already waiting for her when she woke up, and they put her in a good mood.  Her parents called her as she was putting on her makeup, and talked to her until she left to get breakfast downstairs.  She already knew she would FaceTime Siena after practice when they got back to the hotel.

When she got downstairs to the continental breakfast, some of the guys were already there, and she knew everyone else was on their way.  Jake was already there, wishing her a happy birthday at the scrambled eggs.  Mitch was there too, who poured her some orange juice as he wished her a happy birthday as well.  Jason said she should be sitting down at the table while everyone else got her the food she wanted.  She giggled.

Willy and Kappy arrived together.  Kappy wished her a quick happy birthday before he started to get his food.  Willy lingered by her.  “You talk to your parents yet?”

“They called me this morning, yeah.”

“Siena?”

“We’re FaceTiming after practice.”

William nodded his head understandingly.  “Happy birthday,” he smiled softly.

She smiled equally as softly.  “Thanks.”

“You gonna be blasting that Taylor Swift song or what?” Travis Dermott asked he appeared beside them, plate piled high with scrambled eggs and bacon.  “I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-twoooOooOOOooo!” he sang aloud in a horrible high-pitched voice, definitely trying to mimic Taylor Swift but of course failing miserably.

William set down his plate and put his hands over his hears dramatically.  Travis began dancing while trying not to have the bacon spill over his plate.  Aberdeen couldn’t help but laugh.  “Were you doing that when you turned 22?” she asked.

“You bet!  That song was on a 24 hour loop,” he smiled.

“Poor Kat.”

“She lived.  So what’s your birthday wish?”

“For you guys to win tonight,” she winked.

“We can make that happen,” he winked back.  “Can’t we, Willy?”

“My ear drums burst after your awful singing.  What did you say?”

“I said WE CAN WIN TONIGHT, CAN’T WE?” he yelled so loud other patrons in the eating area looked towards them.  

Aberdeen shielded her face and William turned completely around so they couldn’t see his face.  “You’re the worst, pal,” William said to Travis.  “And by the way,” he shifted focus to Aberdeen, “we’re definitely winning the game tonight.  For you and only you.  Bust also so that we don’t have to hear any more of that.”

***

“Did the boys promise you they’d win for your birthday?” Brendan asked Aberdeen as they walked together through the halls to their box for the game.  

“They did,” she nodded.  “This morning at breakfast.”

“Think they’ll be able to do it?” he asked.  They both flashed their credentials to the security guard who let them through easily.  Aberdeen could even see Kyle down at the other end of the hallway waiting.  

She shrugged her shoulders.  “I hope so.  It would be kind of nice.”

“No hoping,” Brendan shook his head.  “Do you have faith they can win the game tonight for your birthday?” he asked again, his voice sterner.

“Yes,” she answered automatically, nodding her head.  She did have faith in them.  She had faith that William would probably show off tonight like he showed off when Siena was in the building in Ottawa, but she wasn’t exactly going to vocalize that out loud.  “Do you?”

He took a moment to think about it as he looked at her.  It wasn’t an automatic reaction like hers was.  “Yes,” he finally said.  “Because I know how much they adore you.”

***

“Look at him fuckin’ go,” Kyle said with a giant smirk on his face as he watched the replay of William’s goal.  It was beautiful.  The Leafs were on a powerplay and he was sitting pretty right in front of the net.  After a feed from Mitch not going exactly where he wanted it go, William ended up sneaking it in between his legs and putting it in the net, top shelf.  Bardown.  Beautiful.

“He just surpassed his dad in goals not even two weeks ago and now this.  Now he’s just showing off,” Brendan giggled, looking at the replay himself.  

Aberdeen watched replay after replay.  “This is absolutely unbelievable by Nylander” she heard the announcer say as he broke down the play and the goal.  She was so enamoured by the coverage and the breakdown and the smile on his face at the end of it that she almost didn’t notice what Brendan whispered to Kyle.

“Think he’s showing off for someone?”

***

Brendan made sure he and Aberdeen took their time walking down to the locker room after the 4-3 win.  He made sure to have his cell phone constantly in his hand, waiting for the right text to come through.  He made sure that when he did, he hurried down there with her tagging along.  

Aberdeen followed Brendan into the locker room.  Brendan nodded at Sheldon.  Sheldon nodded at him.  

“Alright boys!  Everyone get in here!” Sheldon yelled out to the team.  Everyone settled down and came back in the locker room, either standing or sitting in their stalls, their gear half on or half off and their hair still sweaty from the game.  Brendan and Aberdeen were in the back, standing just in front of one of the entrances, making sure not to block Jack Campbell’s view.  “We came back hard tonight.  We showed them what we were made of.  We held them off in the third period.  We stuck with our game.  Willy with that game winning goal that I’m sure is gonna be on every highlight reel this season,” Sheldon smiled, and some of the boys clapped and whooped for him.  “It was a good fight.  It was a good…hey…hey wait.  Where’s Spezza?” he asked, furrowing his brows.  “Where’s Spezz?”

Everybody began looking around the room.  Even Aberdeen started looking.  “Spezz?” Tyson asked really loudly.  

Silence.  

And then…

“Haaaaaaaaaappy biiiiiiirthday to yoooooouuuuu…”

Out of the corner of her eye, Aberdeen saw Jason walk into the locker room carrying a giant slab cake, with 22 candles lit up throughout.  It started with just his voice, but as the words dragged on, more voices joined.  She saw giant smiles on the entire locker room’s faces as they sang along, and she immediately covered her face in embarrassment, getting way too emotional.  Even the cameraman that they sometimes brought on road trips to film content for Blueprints was filming her.  

“Haaaaaaaaaappy biiiiiiirthday to yoooooouuuuu…Haaapppy Biiirthdaaayyy dear Aaaaaaaberdeeeeeeeeeen, haaaaaaaaaappy biiiiiiirthday to yoooooouuuuu!”

The entire locker room began cheering and clapping loudly.  Aberdeen couldn’t believe it.  She shook her head at everything that was happening – the cake, the singing, the filming, the shit-eating grins on everyone’s faces, particularly Jason’s and Brendan’s – and blew out her candles in one big blow, causing everyone to cheer even louder than before.  She knew she had an embarrassed look on her face – because she truly wasn’t expecting anything like this – but she was so grateful for the gesture.  Her eyes were even tearing up, though she didn’t know why.  

“Aberdeen, I think I speak for everyone when I say we wish you a very, very happy birthday in your twenty-second year of life,” Brendan began.  “You came into our lives in September, and since then, we’ve grown more and more in love with you, your outfits, the books you bring on the plane…” he motioned with his hands for the guys to pitch in.

“Your no-nonsense attitude!” Jason contributed.

“Your rockstar Halloween costumes!” Travis yelled.

“Your Willy fashion roasting!” Kappy yelled.

Everybody laughed.  Brendan laughed too before focusing back on her.  “From the streets of good ol’ Etobicoke to 50 Bay Street…you’ll always be part of the Maple Leafs family, Aberdeen.  Always.”

Aberdeen’s breath hitched in her throat.  She nodded her head.  Those were some very kind words from a very powerful man, and she knew just how much they meant.  And the fact that he was saying it in front of the team meant so much more.  She thought it would be over and done with, but Kappy and Travis had other plans.  “Speeeeeeeech!  Speeeeeeeech!” they chanted.  “Speeeeeeeeeech!” everyone else followed, expecting it like she’d just won an Oscar.

(Maybe she deserved one, since she’d been sneaking around with William and nobody seemed to be the wiser.)

“There’s not a lot I’m gonna be able to say without crying,” she said, still shaking her head.  She was still very well aware that the cameraman was still recording.  “But seriously, thank you guys so much.  This means a lot to me, considering how much of a family we are here.  You guys, I…I can’t say enough about you guys.  Honestly.  But for how much you might love me, I hope you guys know how much I love you all too…”

The guys began clapping when they realized she really couldn’t say anything else because she would have gotten emotional.  But it was Brendan who spoke and eliminated the feeling by screaming “ONE MORE TIME!  HAPPY BIRTHDAY ABERDEEN!”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAAAAAYYYYYY!!!!!” they all rushed towards her screaming, engulfing her in a giant mob as she screamed at the fact that twenty-plus men were about the crowd her like she was a fellow hockey player.  The only one who didn’t was Jason so he could save the cake.  Thank God.

“The gift!”

“Where’s the gift?!”

“Somebody get the gift!!!”

Aberdeen furrowed her brows.  Mitch ran from where Jason had come from, hockey pants and socks still on, and brought out a giant box from the back.  He placed in right in front of Aberdeen.  “What did you guys do?”

“We started thinking about it at the beginning of the month—” Kasperi began, but Jason quickly cut him off.

“—Jen and Bee said we should get you something.  But I mean we all thought of the idea of what to get you,” he said, throwing a look towards Kappy.  “John went out and bought it, but like we all pitched in.”

Aberdeen kept unwrapped until she tore a part of the wrapping paper and saw the Louis Vuitton logo on the box.  She gasped out loud.  She didn’t care that everybody in the room was watching her at this point.  “Whaaaaaaat did you guys do?!” she shrieked, ripping off the paper even quicker now.  When the wrapping paper was off and she opened the box, she gasped dramatically.  Everybody had pitched in to buy her a Louis Vuitton Keepall Bandoulière carry-on bag in the damier azur canvas colour.  “Are you for real?!” she asked, delicately moving the tissue paper to the side and taking the luggage bag out of the box.

“You like it?” Jason was smiling at her reaction.

“Now we all match with our Louis Vuitton!” Auston winked.

“Yeah, and now you can’t make fun of my fashion anymore!” William yelled.

“Oh yes I can,” Aberdeen replied automatically, not even looking at him – still admiring her new bag too much.  “Seriously—I—what made you all decide you were going to get me Louis freaking Vuitton?”

“You roasting Willy’s fashion choices, actually,” Jason laughed out.  Brendan laughed too.  “Just thought you deserved something nice too, for putting up with us all the time.”

“I’m still making fun of Willy’s fashion choices,” she deadpanned.

“We figured.”

Aberdeen didn’t know who cut the cake.  All she knew was that she was handed a piece once she was done groveling over her new bag.  She didn’t know when the music started playing.  All she knew was someone took her phone and started blasting her Spotify, and a weird variety of songs came on: “Vossi Bop” by Stormzy, which most of the guys vibed to; “Dancing Queen” by ABBA, because of course; and “(Dancin’) On A Saturday Night” by Barry Blue, which caused Tyson to grab her and start dancing with her comically.  The guys were eating cake and taking off their gear.  The media was still peeking in though their time and interviews had long gone.  She wondered if they got pieces of cake.

When everything was said and done, everybody loaded onto the bus to get back to the hotel.  She still had a stupid smile on her face as everyone filed in, carrying the box in her hands like a party-size pizza.  She put it onto the seat beside her before taking out her phone to respond to some of the last messages she got from her friends, and saw some notifications that piqued her interest.  

@kristenshilton: Leafs are celebrating a birthday in the locker room after their Tampa game.  Cake and everything.  I’m told that it’s chocolate.

@kristenshilton: ‘Vossi Bop’ by UK rapper Stormzy is playing.  Nylander tells me, “It came up on Aberdeen’s phone.  It’s her birthday.  We promised we’d win the game for her.”

Aberdeen Bloom, in question: Brendan Shanahan’s personal assistant.

Aberdeen wondered if this was the first time her name had been put out there by the media.  She honestly had never searched her name on Twitter before so she had no clue.  Now that it was out in the open, what would happen?  What would Brendan say?  Would he want it out there?  She didn’t have the answers.  The only thing she knew was that it didn’t matter right now, because it was her 22nd birthday.  She could deal with it later – if she even needed to deal with it.

She went through her unanswered texts and Instagram messages thanking everybody for their birthday wishes.  Just as she was about the locker her phone again, she opened her email inbox, noticing a few spam emails from sites she’d signed up for.  

But one in particular caught her eye.  She opened it immediately.  

Dear Ms. Bloom,

Thank you for your submission to the “Memoirs” section of Toronto Life.  We have read your essay “Maple Leaf For…Now” but regret to inform you that our team of editors has decided not to publish the essay.  We thank you for your time and submission.

Best regards,

Sandy Miller, Senior Editor at Toronto Life Magazine

She immediately closed the email.  She didn’t need to read it twice.  She didn’t need to dwell on the feeling of being rejected.  Again.  

It was a quick drive back to the hotel.  She followed everybody up to their respective floors and rooms, getting some final happy birthdays before she opened her own door and escaped into her own room.  She put the giant box next to her luggage – she’d wonder how she was going to handle the packing tomorrow.  She took her phone out of her pocket, seeing a text from William already.  

i’ll let u know when i’m coming maybe 20-30 mins?  the guys are pretty hyped and i want to make sure they’re in bed

Ok.  No problem.

brendan was right tonight u know we all fell in love with u from the beginning i hope u know that

😇

She waited patiently yet impatiently.  During the time she was waiting for him, she’d washed off all her makeup, took a quick shower, and even changed into her pajamas.  She debated whether or not she should greet him with a sheetmask on, but then she figured that it was her birthday and he’d probably want to kiss her all night, so she decided against it, even as a joke.  There was no way she’d waste a sheet mask.  

She was sitting on her bed scrolling through her phone when she got the text from Willy.  She prepared herself, and when she heard the slight knock on her door, she practically jumped out of bed and ran to the door.  She opened it quickly.  “Hey,” she smiled, closing the door behind him, even locking it for good measure.

“Hey.”

“What a goal tonight, Will!” she giggled as he got closer, wrapping his arms around her.  

“For you,” was all he said.  He apparently didn’t want to talk hockey – regardless of how pretty his goal was – or waste any more time.  He just began kissing her.  Big, open-mouthed, passionate kisses as he walked them towards her bed, falling on top of it when it reached the back of Aberdeen’s knees.  Like many times before, they were making out like teenagers; they couldn’t help it.  William found her insatiable, and Aberdeen found him just as much, if not more insatiable.  She snaked her hands underneath his hoodie and took it off, leaving him shirtless.  He did the same to her, leaving her topless in her bed.  

“Aberdeen?” he mumbled against the skin between her breasts after what felt like hours of kissing, touching, and grinding against each other’s bodies.  

“Yeah?” she managed to get out, though she could feel how hot her body was.

“Can I taste you?”

“Huh?” she blurted out in the most vulgar way that was humanly possible, completely embarrassing herself.  She was sure William was going walk out the door right now and never turn back.

William snorted.  “Can I taste you?” he asked again, slower, with a dumb smile on his face as he looked up at her.  

“I…I…” her chest began to heave slightly.  “I mean…okay.  But um…I’ve never…” she kept trying to find the right words, but when she thought about what she actually needed to say, it just made her more embarrassed and more prone to stutter out her response.  “I mean, I’ve never had…you know, anyone go down on me before.”

William stopped, furrowing his brows.  “Wait…you’ve…you’ve never—”

“No.”

“You haven’t been eaten out before?”

“No.”

William seemed shocked.  “But you…you’ve had boyfriends…?”

“Yes, Will.  God.”

“So…” he was trying to piece everything together.  “That guy I met, Zane or whatever his name was…he never ate you out in the entire year you dated?” he asked.  Aberdeen shook her head.  “What kind assholes did you date?” he shrieked.

“Arrrrrggghhhhh,” Aberdeen grumbled, covering her face with her hands in complete embarrassment.  “This is so embarrassing!”

“Noooo no no no, come on, it’s okay,” William kept repeating and cooing as he pushed himself back up, one hand placing itself on her stomach to caress the skin there and on her sides while he leaned on his other arm.  “Aberdeen, come on.  It’s okay.”

“Is it though?  Is it really?” she was peeking through her fingers like a kid.

“Of course it is,” he assured her.  “It means I get to be the first one.”  Aberdeen removed her hand from in front of her eyes so she could give him a look.  “Was there a reason why it never happened?”

Aberdeen shrugged.  “I mean…I’ve always been a bit self-conscious about it.  Like about how I’d react or how I’d, like…taste,” she used his own words.  “But Zane said he didn’t like to go down on girls, so I sort of never, like, asked for it.  He was like that from the beginning.  And I felt embarrassed to ask if I was just gonna get shot down.  I mean…I wanted to try it.  He just never would.”

“Did you give him blowjobs?”

Aberdeen knew she shouldn’t be getting uncomfortable, because she was with William and she was comfortable with him and trusted him completely, but it was a direct line of questioning she wasn’t used to.  Though she talked about her hookups or past boyfriends with Siena or people like Kasha, she didn’t go into extreme depth like that.  “Yeah…a whole bunch of them, actually…” she admitted.

She watched as William shook his head, getting angry.  “That guy was a fucking asshole, and I’ll look through every stupid fucking cubicle in the city if I have to so I can punch him in the face for you.”

Aberdeen let out a sigh, running her fingers through his hair to push it back.  “Does that make me lame?  Be honest.”

“No, minskatt.  It does not make you lame,” William asserted.  He brought his hand up to caress her face, and trailed his fingers up to her new scar just above her eyebrow.  He touched it delicately and she didn’t wince.  “Listen…I want to taste you.  I want to make you feel good,” he continued softly.  “I know you’re nervous.  It’s okay.  I promise that I’ll go slow, okay?  And I’ll stop whenever you tell me to stop.”

Aberdeen was nervous – perhaps more nervous than she’d ever been – but she nodded her head.  “Okay,” she said.  

“You’re sure?” William confirmed with her one more time.

“Yeah,” she nodded again.  “I’m sure.  Just…go slow.”

He’d heard her request those words before.  “I will, minskatt.  I love you.”

“I love you too, Willy.”

He began kissing her again, trying to get her as comfortable and relaxed as possible – how she was before he proposed the idea.  They kissed again for a long time, William making sure he could sense her comfortability before he began to move down, running his lips and tongue down to her chest.  His lips left her skin only to take off her pajama pants and underwear, slipping them off slowly at the same time before discarding them to the side.  He could feel her shiver.  “You alright?” he asked.  She nodded her head.  “I’m going to make you feel great, I promise.”

“You better.”

They both giggled slightly.  “Just tell me when to stop if you want me to stop.”

“Okay.”

He continued to kiss his way down her body, eventually spreading her legs open and settling in between them.  He could feel her take a deep breath, so he kissed some more – along her belly button, her hips, on the insides of her thighs.  When he did that, there was another shiver.  “Minskatt?”

“What?” she asked, like she was having trouble even getting the word out.

“Hold my hand.”

Aberdeen looked down.  Seeing his face in between her thighs was quite the sight to behold.  She grabbed onto one of his hands and intertwined their fingers.  She could feel his thumb rubbing her hand assuredly.  She didn’t think the first flick of the tongue to taste her was coming so soon.  But as she felt his tongue along her folds, she flinched slightly out of surprise more than anything, squeezing his hand.  “Oh fuck,” she sighed out, her hips bucking.  

With his free arm, he pushed gently back on to the bed.  “Was that okay?” he asked, his mouth still dangerously close to her lips so that when she spoke, she still felt them move against her.  She nodded quickly.  “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” she said firmly, her response automatic.  “K—Keep going.  It felt good.”

Aberdeen looked down, only to make eye contact with him before he dived in again.  Her eyes rolled to the back as William continued lapping at her, making her feel better and better with each stroke of his tongue.  Soon, there were no nerves anymore – no worries about how she tasted or how she’d never done this before – and her body was doing the talking, squirming and writhing and sighing, her little oh fuck and oh my god comments the fuel William wanted, needed, to keep doing what he was doing.  He did everything – quick flicks of the tongue, long laps from bottom-to-top, top-to-bottom, and sucking and licking like he was drinking a thick milkshake, making sure Aberdeen got the full experience.  

Her moans were his music.  At one point she had let go of his hand so she could bunch the bedsheets in her fists.  He could hear her huffs and sighs.  “S’at feel good?” he asked quickly.

“God, yes,” Aberdeen whispered, her voice so soft and so full of innocence at the new feeling of it all that William almost came himself right then and there.

“You taste so sweet for me, Aberdeen.  You’re so sweet and it’s all for me,” he said, his voice low and full of lust and Aberdeen almost came right then and there.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck, Willy,” she couldn’t say much more.  When he lapped at her with his flat tongue immediately after, she instinctively went to grab and tug on his hair.  He’d made it a personal goal that he would make her come with just his tongue, and his groan in response and the vibration from it made her whimper.  “Willy—I—Willy—”

He did it again, and she cried out.  With his face so firmly planted on her pussy and with her tugging at his hair and making sure he stayed down there, the feeling was almost too much, but she knew she wanted him to keep going.  She knew she wanted the build-up.  She knew she wanted it to last as long as it could – as long as was physically possible for Willy – because this was, perhaps, the best feeling she’d ever felt.

The fact she was getting louder made Willy know she was enjoying it.  She’d moved on from squirms to moans, and now from moans to audible cries, words frantic and scarcely used but enough so that he knew he was doing a good job and she wanted him to keep going.  He kept up his movements so he could keep hearing her, the tugging of his hair bringing him the same kind of pleasure as he was currently giving her.  

Then Aberdeen went a bit quiet.  William didn’t like that.  He looked up at her as he was still licking and noticed she was staring up at the ceiling.  He squeezed her hand to get her attention.  “You okay?”

She looked down and saw how wet his lips were – how her juices were all over his mouth, really, and she could have fucking cried.  It was one of the hottest things she’d ever seen.  “I feel really close,” she whispered, her voice strained.  She’d been moaning and crying out for so long that he was surprised she even had one left.  “I—fuck Willy—I feel so close.”

William wanted to make sure any part of her that was still holding back – if there was any left – didn’t hold back at all.  He made sure he was making eye contact with her.  “Come all over my face Aberdeen.  Come for me.  Now.”

Aberdeen had never been so turned on.   He lapped and sucked once more and within seconds she was a screaming, writhing mess.  She couldn’t be quiet.  It was impossible.  As her orgasm overcame her, flooding her entire body with pleasure, she tried to stop her legs from clamping together and squeezing William’s head in between her thighs.  He didn’t care.  William moved with each squirm, each scream, each buck of the hips, never once taking his mouth off her pussy as she came long and hard and completely, not once.  She screamed and huffed and moaned until she couldn’t anymore, until her throat was dry.  When she felt herself finally coming down from her orgasm – earth-shattering orgasm, really, if we’re being specific – she looked down at saw William already looking at her, smiling, her juices all over his lips and face, and she knew it was a sight that would be permanently etched in her mind.  

When Aberdeen regained basic consciousness, she could feel William kissing the insides of her thighs again as he was chuckling slightly.  He kissed his way back up to her, and when his lips landed on hers, she let out her last moan she had in her as she tasted herself on his lips.  “You taste incredible,” he said once they finished kissing, looking right into her eyes as he licked his lips.

“I can’t believe that was what I was missing this entire time,” she said.  “Zane’s a fucking asshole.”

William chuckled louder this time, nuzzling himself into her neck as he placed light butterfly kisses there.  “I told you,” he said.  “It felt good for you?”

She nodded.  “It felt incredible.  I’m serious.  You’re going to turn me into one of those nymphomaniacs.”

“What did you like the most?”

“All of it,” she said immediately, because it was true.  There was absolutely nothing that she didn’t like.  As she felt his body rest beside hers, his lips still lingering on the skin of her neck, she could feel his erection.  She turned a bit so she could look him in the eye, kissing him quickly.  “D’you want me to take care of that?”

“No no,” he shook his head.  She didn’t understand, especially since he was rock hard.  She couldn’t believe him going down on her made him so aroused.  “This is all about you.  I’ll take care of it.”

“Willy—”

“It’s okay, minskatt.  I’ll take care of it,” he said, giving her a kiss before rolling over and getting off the bed.  She watched as he disappeared into the washroom and closed the door behind him.  She couldn’t think of anything else to do, laying in the bed completely naked thinking about what had just happened, until she thought to grab her underwear and put them back on.  She kept herself topless though, as maybe a little treat to William, as she went back to thinking about the feeling of his tongue on her folds, shivering as she remembered.

William was in there for a while before he came back out, seemingly having taken care of it, and climbed back into bed with her.  He placed kisses on her breasts and nipples before moving to her neck and finally her lips, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closed against his body.  He was topless, too, but kept his boxers on.  “I love you, minskatt,” he whispered.

“I love you too Willy,” she said, his body heat and warmth she felt lulling her to sleep so quickly.  “Thank you for being my first for that.”

He smiled.  “The pleasure was all mine.  Go to sleep, minskatt.  Go to sleep.”

***

The next morning, William was still in bed with Aberdeen.  They’d hardly moved, limbs still intertwined and still holding on to each other like the other would float away.  Aberdeen woke up first, her eyes gently opening, noticing and appreciating how close she was to Will.  Instinctively – really, she couldn’t help herself – she brought a hand up to his face, barely touching it with her fingertips.  The stubble along his jawline and cheeks.  The curve of his perfect nose.  His soft, sweet lips.  He was truly so beautiful.  She couldn’t believe he was hers.  She couldn’t believe she was his.  It was a magical thing to wake up in William Nylander’s arms, knowing that he loved her, and knowing that she loved him.  

He shifted slightly, letting her know he was awake – or at least waking up.  “Minskatt?” he mumbled, barely audible, before he even opened his eyes.

“I’m right here,” she said in an equally soft voice.  

He opened his eyes.  He smiled sleepily once he saw how close they were and sighed contently.  “I dreamt we were in Sweden,” he whispered.

Aberdeen felt a shiver run up her spine.  “Yeah?”

He nodded.  “My family was there.  My sisters loved you.  Alex too.  You were sitting by the lake at our house in the country,” he said.  “Your hair was down and you were looking over your shoulder back at me.  It was perfect.”

Aberdeen couldn’t help but smile.  His voice was so soft and his emotion so innocent.  “Tell me more.”

“You had on a pretty dress.  The sky was blue.  So was the water.  We could do what we wanted and nobody cared.  We could be open with our love and it was so beautiful.”

She felt a small pang of guilt at that.  At this point, she knew how bad they both wanted to be out in the open, but life dictated that they couldn’t.  She couldn’t just up and quit her job and lose her income.  They needed to ride out the wave.  It would happen eventually; it just couldn’t happen now.  “I’m sorry that we can’t,” she whispered, caressing his face again.  

“Don’t apologize, minskatt.  We will one day.  You’re still the best thing in my life and always will be.  I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

It was that statement that got Aberdeen emotional.  Here he was dreaming about her in Sweden with him and his family, freely showing their love, but the reality was that couldn’t happen.  Yet he said he would wait forever.  She wasn’t sure about that.  No guy had waited for her before.  “But you’ve been waiting already for so long,” she whispered, her eyes welling with tears.  “Why are you waiting for so long?  Any other guy would have given up and moved on already.  Why haven’t you?”

“Shhh, Aberdeen, stop,” he said, squeezing her tighter.  “Don’t you get—Aberdeen, you’re it for me.  I don’t care that I’m waiting to be out in the open with you.  I will wait however long you want me to, alright?  You’ll always have me.  No matter what happens.  You’ll always have me.”

Aberdeen nodded.  There was nothing she could say to that.  Her heart felt so full at his words.  He’d wait.  He’d wait as long as he needed to.  He loved her.  He adored her.  She was it for him.  “I love you, Willy.”

“I love you too Aberdeen.  So much,” he kissed the tip of her nose.

Aberdeen kissed him on his lips, needing to feel them against hers.  Like always, they couldn’t stop.  “Make love to me Willy…before you have to go.”

He did.  It was slow and it was sensual and it was tender and it was everything she could have wanted, needed that morning in bed with him.  And afterwards, when he had to put his clothes on and sneak out back to his room, he sat on the edge of the bed and kissed her.  “Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker,” he whispered against her lips.

Aberdeen smiled.  She didn’t know Swedish but she knew those words.  They were theirs.  Theirs and only theirs.  Which is why she repeated them back to him.  “I think about you when I’m not even thinking.”

[capriciouslyterminal]

Wolves Don’t Do True Love’s Kiss

(Aka I wrote an Ishimondo Wolf Among Us oneshot thing instead of editing a paper and I’ve never posted my writing on tumblr before).

~Full idea credit goes to @andy-deer​ and his amazing art if you like Danganronpa or just cool art you really should follow him~

~Mondo’s the big bad wolf, Ishimaru’s the blind prince from Rapunzel. I know in the original fairytale I think the prince is blinded by thorns but listen a version of him being blinded by snakes lives in my brain from somewhere and I couldn’t not write it.~

~P.S. I don’t know that much about Wolf Among Us and I am sorry about that~

Mondo Oowada had been having the same dream a lot lately, ever since that night he shoved the guy who used to be The Minotaur through the display case of a yarn shop.

Normally he and the other fables didn’t have such violent altercations now that he split off from the pack, but then the detective called in a fucking favor from the big bad wolf himself.

And what else was he supposed to do? When the guy wouldn’t own up to the blood of all those teenagers stuck in his teeth and he wanted to put his horns through the dancing princess turned detective and her naive sidekick?

If he’d known the whole thing was going to lead to a blind prince from another story storming up to his apartment from the DA’s office to yell at him about property damage and chances of exposing the whole fable community at two in the morning while he was trying to sleep of the few times he got gored, he wouldn’t have bothered. 

It really wasn’t his fault The Minotaur couldn’t afford enough glamor to withstand a single punch. And he’d told the annoying little shit as much, but the whole thing inevitably meant that he was seeing a lot of Kiyotaka Ishimaru whenever he was roped into being the muscle behind Kirigiri’s investigations. Which was fine. And normal.

But then the dreams started after that night at the bar, and everything changed.

~*~

He doesn’t know when it changed, when he went from running in the forest of his mind on four feet to two as he slept.

He never lost the sights or the smells of the old forest that had no name. But now he ran it as a man. No matter the wolf he would always be deep in his heart.

It was something like when his brother died. He’d been too young, hadn’t even finished cutting his teeth, when he was shunted from the dreams of hurtling through the night at the front of the pack to hurtling alone through the end of days.

There the isolation was a nightmare, a punishment, but this is not the same. This is a simple shifting of reality.

Sometimes he wonders, looking at the webs of veins stretched under the skin on the backs of his hands in the gray light of morning, when the glamor started to feel more real than his body. 

When he grew so used to the delicate tapping of hands, to standing tall and far from the ground, that the memory of the nights spent slinking through the shadows on his belly faded. He would never truly know when that was lost.

All that meant was that now, whenever he had to shift back, it was no longer the shrugging off of a costume like in the early days in this new town. 

It was shouldering back into an old coat, ill-fitting and smelling of pine, that stretched at the seams to hold him.

He was freezing now, dreaming, skin unprotected from the winter that could steal the breath from your lungs. He was running towards the tower with a panting in his heart and a frenzied howl in his mind. 

~*~

He mentioned it only once, over drinks.

Or, well, more specifically, only Mondo had the real drinks. Something old and amber that burned as it went down. Something served in a glass of gently melting ice that was always refilled whenever he shot a slip of teeth to the bartender and flexed his bloody knuckles while eyeing the shelves of glassware behind him.

The bartender in another life, another place, not that it mattered much anymore, had been a pig. Mondo could tell not just from the swell of his pale throat and the slight tilt of his nose, but the fear that sprang in the air as soon as Mondo had entered that first night in town. The man froze like he was still the prey.

As soon as he’d entered the establishment for the first time, and seen the bartender shakily reach to stroke the brick wall for comfort, he knew the little pig remembered him. Mondo hadn’t paid for drinks in four years, and he hadn’t even needed to threaten to blow down the joint.

Not that he would do that anymore. Now, with cigarettes and cash in the pockets of his long coat, he would have had some complaints for the structure of the building and nothing more to add. Now, he could have figured out how to bring it down with his fist in moments instead of having to empty his lungs.  

Getting Kiyotaka within the brickwork bar’s confines had been an accomplishment of its own, a sign of respect for their still growing friendship that made Mondo swell with pride and grin to himself at the sight of an old world prince crammed into a booth at his favorite dingy bar.

The first time he asked for drinks after a successful arrest, and had seen Kiyotaka nod against the neon backdrop of the city with an uncertain smile, he’d practically howled with glee. If he still had his tail it would have wagged.

 But getting him to sip anything harder than soda water was a losing man’s game.

~*~

The pines are so familiar he could think of them as his own brothers, feeding the deer whose innards he lived on before he found new villages to savage. Even as he left the skin of the wolf, he would never be free of this forest that still shuddered with his howls if he stopped to listen.

But the tower, crooked and dark against the snowy sky, is new. Rising from the thorny ground as if it had been summoned from Hell itself.

A break in the tree-line, a monument of dark stone frozen in a twisting shudder as it reached for the clouds. The single shining yellow window gleams like an eye watching him approach. 

If he saw eyes like than in an animal he’d think it was rotting from the inside out. He wouldn’t eat it, and instead leave it to bleed sluggishly into the soft earth.

The tower is sick.

A man is climbing it.

~*~

He’d been five drinks deep, warm in the belly and ready to curl up by the golden hearth that kept the bar warm, when it finally happened. He hadn’t actually curled up by a hearth in years, and would only consider it after five more drinks.

But needless to say, he was drowning in golden comfort when he’d asked about the tower. 

When he felt the air that had been so warm a moment ago freeze as the words left his mouth. A question that had been scratching at the backdoor of his mind since Kiyotaka had pounded on his door and demanded Mondo put on a proper glamor when he accidentally grabbed a hunk of his hair.

“It just doesn’t seem like you,” Mondo said. The words slurred, flowing between his teeth and tongue like a river. “A blind prince of all fuckin’ people. Breaking and entering.”

There was that twitch of an eyebrow, displeasure kept on a tight leash, that made Mondo’s heart clench with fondness. 

It was a feeling like he swallowed the sun, his gut full of light, only for it try to kick its way back up out of his throat.

“I wasn’t always–I did not break anything! And I entered with permission.” 

Kiyotaka had discovered the napkin dispenser on the table earlier in the night, sopping up a ring of condensation that Mondo had been happy to leave to sink into the table. He made use of it now, and quickly shredded a napkin between his pale fingers.

“Come off it, man.” Mondo chuckled, raised the glass to his lips, and took another swig. “What would permission to break into a tower in the middle of the fuckin’ woods even sound like?”

“I didn’t break into her tower.” Even blind, Kiyotaka knew how to glare with the best of them. Another napkin was plucked from the table, but he worried at it for a bit longer this time.

“She was screaming,” Kiyotaka said. “I was nearby, hunting, and at first I thought it was the wind. But then I really listened. And she was screaming.”

~*~

The man is up higher than the treetops, clutching the stones of the tower with his bare hands. The wind is whispering, the clouds humming in anticipation.

Mondo breaks into the space, and a name rings out like a bell in his throat. He howls with it, staring up at the figure as he runs. He is too far away to catch him should anything happen.

When the man turns to look down, all Mondo can see is the red pinprick of his eyes burning against the grey eternity of the sky. And his hands.

His fingers are bloody at the tips, streaks of crimson left on the stones. He broke his nails against the brick of the tower, flecks of scratched into his pale skin. He surely has been climbing for days and is nowhere closer to the top.

Even as he runs, Mondo knows that though he has hands, he cannot climb fast enough to reach him.

“Stop!” He hears himself roar. “You’ll fall.”

The man looks down, and Mondo feels his smile on the wind. He is weeping, tears freezing before they reach the ground to shatter into icy shards.

~*~

“What did you hunt?” Mondo was not sure where the words came from inside of him.

Kiyotaka’s sightless eyes were pale flecks of ice under his furrowed brow. He crumpled the napkin in his hands, and immediately tried to smooth it out with a regretful twist to his mouth.

“I don’t know for sure anymore…it was so long ago. But there was talk of a wolf, I think.”

He let the space hang between them, gave Mondo a chance to haul him up by his collar with a growl. But the rage never came. Mondo knew him now.

He continued on.

“I wasn’t much of a hunter. But I knew that my grandfather should have–,” his voice melted as it always did when the old king came into the conversation. “It is the royal family’s duty to protect their people.”

The freezing slush of the past seeped down Mondo’s spine. For a second he almost could see his breath, as if the old forest had risen back up around him.

For a second he could almost imagine it. Them meeting there. 

He could imagine himself standing on all fours heaving, staring into burning red eyes against a dark and ancient sky. A figure fit to stop his rampaging ways. Not a woodsman, crude and homely, but a prince. 

Would he have used a bow? A sword? What would have come first? A slice through Mondo’s belly or Mondo’s teeth in his neck?

But those times were long gone, and the quiet murmur of bar patrons tethered the two of them in the present.

“She screamed, and I followed the sound…and I found the tower. I called up to her.”

Mondo could imagine that with ease. Kiyotaka thundering out of the forest like a madman, yelling up at a witch’s tower to try and ascertain if a screaming woman needed his help. 

Kiyotaka trying to figure out the best way to help her as the sun went down and the temperature fell. 

Kiyotaka shedding a finely embroidered coat to climb a random ass tower despite any good sense he might have been taught.

His princely fingers, tapered and gentle.

“I thought she had lowered a rope. I didn’t know until I held it in my hands that it was her hair. Sometimes I can still feel the slick weight it.” 

His hands clenched, old scars scraped into the pads of his fingertips drawing across the table.

~*~

The man leans back, and with the gentle gasp of the wind, he falls.

Mondo is sure his heart falls with him

~*~

“She was so young. And so frightened, Mondo. I don’t think I’ll ever forget her face,” Kiyotaka said, stricken. “Her hair falling to the floor.”

Mondo was only aware of the thundering breaths he drew in and had to focus to release with care. The howling of the wind was still inside of him, screaming to be let out.

“I promised her I’d help her, find a way to get her out of that place. I had to.  It was a single room and it was freezing. In the middle of winter! Imagine it, Mondo, a single stone room is all you know for eighteen years. I think I was the first man she’d ever seen. She stared at me like she couldn’t understand what I was. She held my hands and…and she wept.”

His hands were shaking bad. Mondo focused on his breath and felt claws scrape somewhere down deep with his bones, hiding under the skin of a man.

“I promised her I’d help her because that was my duty to my people. Because she deserved more than to be a witch’s prisoner. I promised her that I’d keep her safe. I just needed a ladder, something so she could climb down. I had to go back for one, and she didn’t want to let go of my hand. I had to pry her fingers off my wrist. She cried after me.” He admitted it like some shame, like something heavy on his chest that Mondo understood.

“It took a full day’s ride to return. I hadn’t realized how far I’d travelled. And as soon as I found a ladder long enough I turned and went straight back. I think I almost killed my horse, but I couldn’t stop to think.” 

The words were falling out of him faster and faster. Mondo didn’t know how to stop him.

“When I got back, when I called up to her, there was no sound. She tossed nothing down for me. So I climbed on my own.” His fingertips twitched, a sardonic grin followed them and looked wrong on his face. “But I was too late. I wasn’t fast enough. She was not there to greet me upon my return. But the witch was.”

~*~

The man is caught in thorns. His fine clothes in the style of their homeland torn and dirtied. He is bleeding from his crown and moaning, but he does not scream. His bones are broken, his skin is bloody, his eyes are screwed tightly shut.

Mondo feels something terrible will happen once he opens them.

The snakes are looming, dry static across the ground.

Mondo flings himself into the thorns on instinct bred by his old skin and bellows at the pain of it.

~*~

Mondo suddenly reached out, on instinct bred by his old skin, and felt himself take Kiyotaka’s hand.

The prince of the old world was startled. Mondo heard the stutter of his heart. The gasp of his breath.

Mondo knew a want like a chasm, stretching and straining from his chest through his whole body. It drove him to hunt, to shatter, to shrink his pupils to slits, and to take all the world had with a guttural howl. This want shuddered through his body at the sight of Kiyotaka, golden in the light, parting his lips to speak.

He wants–he wants–he wants–

In a way he had not wanted since the old days.

~*~

He rips into the throats and bellies of snake after snake. He tears scale and muscle with his teeth and flings the corpses away with his hands until the ground is littered with them.

Only when they are all dead, when the root-like curve of their bodies are all he can see, does he turn back to the man. He whimpers and the tears leak from under his closed eyes. He is beautiful.

Mondo takes his face in his hands, feels the sharp press of his cheekbone against the palm of his hand, and moves close enough to feel the warmth of his shuddering breath on his face. Holding him close, their foreheads almost touching.

Mondo feels the venom drip from his lips now, venom from the throats of the snakes that would fall to the man’s eyes and have force him cry out while his body recoiled. Venom that would steal his sight and cast his eyes in icy nothingness.

But it is all he can do to press even closer, feel the man’s heart beat in one with his own, and ghost his lips over the chilled ones.

The man screams into the kiss, and Mondo howls with him.

He always wakes in a cold sweat, and the moon is full and staring down at him from the sky.

~*~

Kiyotaka had continued the story, Mondo had not listened, too entranced by the simple impossibility of holding Kiyotaka’s hand.

“I think she kept her there the whole time, Mondo. And I don’t know what I wanted to do but that woman…she told me I had failed to protect the girl and she–she grabbed me and…” 

Mondo could hear Kiyotaka’s heart thundering in his chest. Sweat was pouring down his forehead, tears welling up the creases of his eyes. It was like he could feel Mondo looking at him even as he kept his eyes downcast.

“And I fell.” His voice was hardly a rasp, utterly hollow. 

Again, Mondo moved on instinct.

Pulling Kiyotaka to him felt like coming home, squeezing his arms around his back as tight as he dared felt like obeying a rule of the new world. Like casting a glamor.

“Hey man, it’s alright now,” Mondo murmured. Something warm blossomed through the want in his chest, and it coated his voice.

“Mondo.” Kiyotaka’s voice was strangled, his arms hovered above Mondo’s back, as if he were unsure how to put them down.

“None of that shit matters anymore, yeah? You’re here now. With me. And I wouldn’t let anything like that happen to you again, swear on my fuckin’ life.”

Kiyotaka took in a shaking breath that hitched in his chest.

“We’re out of the woods, Taka. You and me.”

Kiyotaka let out the slightest sob, equal parts relieved and haunted, and finally wrapped his arms around Mondo. He surrendered himself into the embrace, and Mondo felt everything inside of him shift as Kiyotaka Ishimaru took up residence within the beating of his heart.

And everything changed, simple as that.

~Thank you for reading this, if you did! And thank you again to @andy-deer for their amazing art which has made me smile any day when I was feeling particularly down~

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #462

i am way too tired to mentally flip through lyrics to put here, rip

Who in your family has been married the longest? (and how long?) I have zero idea. When did you last travel alone? Where were you going? The last time I visited Sara in Illinois. Do you take your shoes off when you come inside? Yes. What was the first color you ever dyed your hair? I think I got purple highlights? What was the first social media site you ever used? MySpace. Do you have any exes you really regret dating? One. Of all your friends & family, who has the most nicely-decorated home? Sara's house is lovely. Have you ever been catcalled? No. Are you allergic to any dogs? I might be. Have you ever touched a plant and had hives shoot up your arm? No. Do you think dragonflies are cool? Absolutely! What’s your favorite thing to draw? Meerkats!! Did you toss your hat in the air at graduation? Not high. I wanted to keep it. Do you like fudge? I CAN FUCKING DESTROY SOME FUDGE. Are you an affectionate person? Very. Name something you have to do today: Girt and I are hangin', making fun of bad Netflix anime and going to Buffalo Wild Wings. :^) Would you ever write to a death row inmate? No. People don't get on death row for no reason. I ain't got shit to say to them. Do you reckon online friendships are real? No fucking shit. Most of my most genuine friendships began online. Do you like Slipknot? Yep. Can we talk about how fuckin BADASS Corey's new mask is btw?????????? What do you think of Gorillaz? I like "Feel Good Inc." and one other song I can't remember the name of. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? BOTH!!!!! :') What is the cutest Halloween costume for a baby to wear? GUYS I recently saw a picture of a little baby dressed up as a Little Oogie Boogie and it made my ovaries cry. Which of your friends is the tallest? Which of them is the shortest? Jesus, Girt is a giant. I don't know about my shortest... If you could re-paint your bedroom, what color would you choose? Pastel pink. :') What has been the best night of your life so far? Why? Probably something sexual so let's keep it on the down low lmfaooo Would you ever even think about taking part in a wet t-shirt contest? Uh, no. Even if I WAS confident in my body. Is you hair color the same as it was when you were a baby? No. It was dirty blonde. Have you ever been in trouble for being too loud? Ha, yeah, at school with friends. Not big trouble or anything, we were just hushed. Did you ever attend a wedding that was a complete disaster? No. What is something that you were surprised you were able to do? Hm. What is the most bullshit-sounding true fact that you know? Male cats have spiked penises lkasdjfal;kje;kjwr it's something to do with preventing other tomcats from mating with her. What Oreo flavor is your favorite? Gimme that Double Stuffed, friend. Sour gummy worms or plain gummy worms? SOUR. Ever been in a talent show? How many times? What did you do? Nope. Ever try out for the talent show and not make it? Did you cry? Nope. What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever cried about? Y'all when I was a very little kid, during my older sister's b-day party, I sobbed because I couldn't pin the tail properly on the donkey lmaoooo How do you feel about the use of nuclear weapons? Absolutely fucking barbaric. What song has the most meaning to you? "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy Osbourne. What is your favourite dinosaur? Spinosaurus!!!! :') Have you ever made bread? No. Has anything ever fallen asleep on you? Pets, a baby I was watching after, and Jason. Ever been dominated in a game you were/are really good at? yep alskdjfla;jwej Have you ever decided to set fire to something out of anger? No. Would you rather be a house pet or a wild animal? Wild animal, I guess? Have you ever listened to a group of chanting monks? I haven't. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? Probably of Teddy. I've still yet to decide on the total design of his tribute tat I'm getting. Do you like the smell of men’s colognes better than woman’s perfumes? I think so, yeah. How mad would you be if someone copied your original work (story, poem)? I'd be pretty fuckin pissed. Have you ever blown something up in science class? Ha, no. Have you ever gotten a serious wound from shaving? Not serious, no. Have you invented anything, only to find out it actually exists? I feel like I have? Ever realize you never truly LOVED your first love? Absolutely not. I loved him. Would you want a Bachelor/Bachelorette party before you get married? Sure, sounds fun. Do you prefer pads, tampons or something else? As of very recently, I returned to using pads. I used tampons for most of my maturity, but I got annoyed with them for TMI reasons and resorted back to pads, even though I don't like them either. Have you ever dated a model? No. What is your ultimate goal in life? To die happy with my life and what I (hopefully) accomplished. What colour are the socks you’re wearing today? I’m not wearing any. Who was the last person you sent a Facebook message to and what did you say? Girt. It was something regarding how I once considered doing the suicide mission at BWW where you eat a select number of their hottest wings, but I didn't wanna die via chicken. :^) Are you tall, short or average? Would you change this? I'm average in height. I wouldn't change it, nah. Especially now that Girt and I are together the ridiculous height difference is hilarious but also cute lmao. Have you ever worked in a store while someone shoplifted there? Like, while I was there? No. Have you ever had casual sex? Nahhhh. What’s your favourite flavour of frosting? Chocolate. @_@ When you think of your childhood, are the memories mostly happy or sad? Mostly happy, I guess. What is it like being you? Is it enjoyable? It's very boring with few sources of joy. What are your thoughts on the cause of homosexuality? I would *assume* it's a genetic mutation. Reason being, having a romantic partnership without the ability to reproduce defies the motives of science. There is nothing, absolutely NOTHING, wrong with said (and hypothetical) genetic mutation, though. Mutations are just another part of science. They occur naturally. What subjects did you find most interesting in school? Least? Most interesting: literature/English (especially reading like, old mythology and epics and stuff like that), LOTS of branches of science (but primarily genetics), art, and I looooved my four semesters of German. Least: ANY and ALL math, history, economics, social studies... that kind of stuff. Which do you enjoy more–hot or cold beverages? Cold, for sure. What were some of your favorite bands from childhood? Green Day was one. Would you be more afraid of drowning or being buried alive? Buried alive, for sure. It would be much, much slower. Should you really be doing something more productive right now? Well, I SHOULD be sleeping. Today's going to be a long day, because when Girt comes over, he has a tendency to not leave until like fuckin midnight or later alksdjfl;waje Have you ever lived out of your car? No. Does your family own more than two houses? HUNNY we r poor. A relative just committed a very serious crime, do you turn them in? It depends on the exact crime, but odds are, yes. If you're endangering others, byyyyeeee. You’re in the woods, alone, at night…are you honestly not afraid? Bitch I'm terrified. I have zero survival skills. You are on life support, what would you want a loved one to do about it? For the love of god, please kill me. Your child has only a while to live, do you still enroll them in school? That would be up to them. Also, define "a while." How would you feel if you met your idol and they ended up being rude? WELP I have a tattoo in his honor so that would suck ass lmao According to the tale, was Eve wrong for eating and sharing the apple? "God was wrong for even setting up an apple tree and making up rules in the first place." <<<< There ya go. And the punishment was fucking ludicrously extreme. Are you working on any goals? Yes. I'm currently going to the gym regularly to try and better my physical health and then find a job. I know that being connected sounds odd, but trust me: I can barely carry out very simple tasks just because I have absolutely ZERO stamina to do almost anything. I need energy and endurance. I'm also working towards developing some self-love. Which parent named you? I wanna say my mom. Are you currently frustrated with someone? I mean, myself. Aforementioned self-love is hard. I'm just annoyed my head is so reluctant to accept that I'm not a piece of shit for a million reasons. Why have most of your past relationships ended? They all ended for different reasons, really. Are you having any online conversations, currently? I'm not. What’s on your mind? I'm just tired and going back to bed real soon. Have you ever had an argument with a teacher? No.

[angrylizardjacket]

too old to trick or treat (too young to die) // charlotte&lola (penny&jupiter)

Summary: Two Halloween costumes Tommy witnesses the creation of, twenty years apart. His cousin’s, and her daughter’s.

A/N: 4001 words. knocked this out in literally 3 hours. okay so The Road Warrior didn’t come out until December of ‘81, and Supergirl didn’t come out until ‘84, but whatever, the timeline has been massaged for a number of reasons, bare with me, suspend your disbelief abt halloween costumes. ANYWAYS this came to me very suddenly and i had to write it. i’ve had enough angst, so have cute charlie & penny halloween moments now instead please and thank you. @misscharlottelee as always owns my heart w/ her characters. also mild sexual references in the first part bcos of mishearing something/misunderstanding a situation.

[ part of the charlotte&lola au of Run to Paradise ]

----

In 1981, Tommy dresses as Mad Max for Halloween; all pulled back hair, and a truly awful attempt at an Australian accent. He’s even butchered a leather jacket he’d found second-hand, much to the rest of the household’s horror. He’s pretty proud, despite Mick telling him to shut up since Tommy refuses to stop using the accent. 

Mick’s not wearing a costume, and isn’t going out with the rest of the band and the girls, he’s only here to give his opinions on their costumes, and drink with them until they leave. 

Nikki’s made no secret of the fact that he’s going as that guy from A Clockwork Orange, which, okay, is actually surprisingly subdued for his usual going out attire, and Vince would not shut up about the all-white suit he bought to be John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. Something about both Vince and Nikki in all white makes Tommy think everyone’s going to ask if they’re both the same character, regardless of their various accessories, and they’re both going to be mad as all hell by the end of the night; if he had to hazard a guess, Tommy’s pretty sure he’s going to find it incredibly funny, and Nikki’s going to chase him down The Strip for laughing.

Lola’s had her hair in rollers all day, and came home the other week with a legally obtained, sparkly, black, singlet, which was kind of a big deal when Lola either lives in the bands’ clothes, or steals herself pants that actually fit. Her actual costume, however, is escaping him, right up until Tommy walks into the bathroom, to see Lola, in said singlet, black underwear, and nothing else, sitting patiently while Charlotte diligently applied dark eyeshadow further up lola’s brow than he’d been expecting.

“Frank N Furter?” Tommy asked, pleased and amused, still in his attempt at an Australian accent. Both Charlotte and Lola made a face at that, but Lola confirmed after a beat, lips overdrawn, shiny, a deep berry red. The idea that Lola had ever seen Rocky Horror Picture Show in cinemas enough to dress up as it’s main character was a strangely humanizing idea for the often-seemingly feral roadie. 

After a moment, however, Tommy takes in his cousin’s attire; she looks incredibly pretty, of course Charlie’s naturally pretty, but she’d gone out of her way to highlight it tonight. White dress, little tiara atop her head, makeup understated and still somehow glamorous, her hair’s still dark from where she and Lola had died it a few weeks ago in the wake of her split with Duff. Maybe they’d re-dyed it.

“You look pretty, Charlie, who are you meant to be?”

“You know you sound British, right, not Australian?” Charlotte doesn’t look up from where she’s working on Lola’s face.

“Shut up, you don’t even know anyone British,” Tommy counters, nose in the air, “and you haven’t even seen Mad Max, so shut it, you don’t know what an Australian accent sounds like.” And he’s haughty for all of a minute before he’s coming back with, “but seriously, who are you?” 

A wicked grin spreads across his cousin’s lips.

“That’s for me to know -”

“- us to know.” Lola corrects quickly.

“Us to know,” Charlotte agrees, “and you to find out.”

Super ominous. Charlotte’s been cagey about her Halloween costume since they’d decided to hit The Strip on Halloween as a group. Usually, Charlotte’s overflowing with excitement about her costume, back in high school, she’d roped him, Vince, and a few of their friends into being the Scooby Gang. She’s been various animals, movie characters, and last year, she’d spent almost a month putting together a truly gorgeous Cinderella costume. For all that she was detailed about her costumes, he’d always known her to play it safe.

But this year she’s been quiet. It’s unusual. Tommy blames Lola entirely.

The girls allow Tommy to stay in the bathroom until Lola’s face is done, and then, instead of leaving, they both demand he get out, closing the door after him, giggling conspiratorially like teenagers. 

“What’s their problem?” Nikki asks, attempting to apply eyeliner, though the only reflective surface he had was Mick’s sunglasses, and Mick looked about ready to throw him through a window for getting so close, and so Tommy moves on instinct, snatching the stub of an eyeliner pencil from Nikki’s grip, beckoning him out of Mick’s personal space.

“Not sure; they’re either hooking up, or plotting to kill us,” Tommy muses, trying his hardest to not poke Nikki in the eye. 

“Hot?” Nikki sounds like he’s not quite sure about that sentiment himself.

They can hear Lola and Charlotte talking in low voices, indistinctly in the bathroom, and clattering, and then - Take off your fucking heels! - Charlie, loud and nervous, followed by some begrudging grumbling from Lola. Scuffling, more clattering, and grunting.

“They’re definitely hooking up,” Nikki mutters. Tommy’s turning red. He’s not a prude, Christ, not even close, but... Charlie wouldn’t... right? Not when she knew how thin the walls were... Not with Lola, surely!

“Let go of me, I don’t need you to steady me -!” Lola now, and Nikki’s stepping back, laughing at the look on Tommy’s face. He’s not quite sure how he feels about the idea of him and his cousin both having -

“You’re shaking, you’re going to drop it!” 

What?

Silence, a few more indistinct, now muttered words, far quieter, far calmer, then - a loud, strange rush of liquid, like the shower being turned on, but much more immediate and shorter. 

“Holy shit, dude!” Lola’s yell radiates through the whole house, followed by a loud clatter, like something empty being dropped on the tiles, and Charlotte’s response is too quiet to hear. It’s followed by what is distinctly the sound of the hair dryer, and by now, all three men in the living room are just confused. 

Vince finally surfaces from his and Tommy’s room almost ten minutes later, hair appropriately slicked back, white suit impeccable, making a beeline for the fridge, equally confused.

“What the fuck is happening in there?” He asks, joining the other three, currently cutting up lines of coke on a plate, in the living room.

“I still think they’re hooking up,” Nikki says, frowning down, as if the intensity of his gaze will keep his hand from shaking where he’s trying to cut the coke. 

“Wishful thinking,” Mick grumbles, sitting back and taking a long sip of his vodka.

“Pretty sure lesbian sex doesn’t involve hairdryers,” Vince has to agree, and Tommy’s frown deepens.

“They’re not -”

“Fuckin’ semantics, man, sex without guys, you know what I meant,” he headed Tommy’s protests off before he could properly speak them, and Tommy’s own frown deepened. Mick looks like he wants to protest, but also knows all three men far to well to have any illusions about the abhorrent range of pornography they had consumed. 

The hair dryer turns off.

“You wouldn’t have half a fuckin’ clue about what real lesbian sex was like,” is what Mick chooses, instead, to say, and Vince flips him off, right as the bathroom door bursts open, and Lola, comically wide-eyed, stumbles out, what looks like blood splattered on her shins and thighs, high heels in one hand.

“Holy shit,” she’s gasping, laughing, disbelieving, “you guys are not fucking ready for this,” she’s looking altogether like a delighted Frank N Furter about to reveal and revel in her latest creation. The guys are so caught up in seeing Lola in her costume, that seeing Charlotte coming out after her is like being hit by a train.

She’s covered in blood. Head to toe, apart from her face, which she must have been covering with her hands. Bright right. Face serious and eyes wide and Tommy knows that expression, that look, that blood -

“Carrie!” He exclaims, “Fucking Hell, Charlie!” He announces at the top of his lungs, and Charlotte’s expression cracks to a bright smile, to delight at being recognized. 

“It’s paint!” Charlotte announces, giving a spin, and suddenly the hairdryer, the chatter, the confusion made sense. 

“Charlotte, you look fucking killer,” Nikki’s got a look in his eyes that reads as both intimidated and turned on, a look usually reserved for Lola, but Charlotte doesn’t seem to notice.

“Peach and Eileen are going to fucking scream,” Lola was absolutely delighted at this prospect, doing a line of coke when Nikki offered it, before pulling on her heels. 

Charlotte is beaming, looking cool as hell, and delighted with how the whole costume turned out. 

Only later that night will any of the boys discover the murder-scene the girls had left behind in the bathtub in their excitement to hit The Strip. Tommy feels like he’ll never get the image of the blood splattered tub out of his mind.

Which is why he finds it so baffling that he’s blindsided by it exactly twenty one years later.

In 2002, Charlotte’s daughter, Penny, now all of twenty years old, the exact age Charlie had been that iconic Halloween, and Tommy’s kid, Jupiter, eighteen and a half, the pair raised practically as siblings, had been marathoning mostly-trashy horror movies all through the month of October in anticipation for the night itself, and Johnny Hudson’s Halloween party. 

Jupiter had announced their intention to dress as Nancy from The Craft for the third year in a row, which ties it with the costume they’d chosen for the three years prior to that, which was Eric Draven, the main character from The Crow.

“Yes, it’s because I have a thing for Fairuza Balk in that movie,” Jupiter had announced defiantly when they’d made their intentions known at a dinner that Lola fortunately had time enough to attend, in between tours.

“That’s how I picked all my Halloween costumes at your age,” Lola had admitted with a shrug, though that just made Tommy frown as he goes to take a sip of his drink -

“Tim Curry as Frank N Furter -?”

“Lola did you go as Frank N Furter one Halloween?” Penny, delighted at the concept, leans forward over her pasta, eyes alight with mirth at the idea, looking so much like her mother that it almost stings. Lola herself has gone red, trying to suppress a smile.

“Tom, that’s not a discussion I want to have right now, but yes,” she says, slight warning in her voice, and Tommy chokes on his drink, both because he doesn’t quite know what she means by that, and because it’s rare for her to call him Tom, but then she’s looking up at Penny, smiling enough that it creases by her eyes, “and yes,” she deliberates, before adding, “I’m pretty sure that was the year your Auntie Eileen surprised everyone and dressed up as Uncle Mick, top hat and all,” Lola said, voice warm and fond at the memory, “he had no clue how to take it, shocked him enough that he actually came out on the town with us; I think it’ll always surprise him when people think he’d be a cool Halloween costume.” And she looks to Jupiter at that, while Jupiter themselves made direct and unwavering eye contact with their own pasta, while Penny nudged them, voice turning teasing, picking up on Lola’s cue, gently ribbing her cousin about the time they’d dressed up as Mick for Halloween, if only to spite the rest of their family. 

The conversation moves on, and Tommy thinks fondly of the memory of how bright Charlotte’s smile had been after she’d come out of their bathroom, looking as thought she was covered in blood. 

So this year, Tommy’s hit with a strange sense of deja vu in the lead up to Halloween, with Penny being cagey, and obviously in cahoots with his own child.

“Looking badass, as always,” Tommy grins, showing off his cheap, vampire fangs, as he leans in the doorway of his kid’s bedroom. Penny’s applying lip-gloss atop their black lipstick, but gives pauses as they both turn to him, scrutinizing his party-store vampire costume. With his own kids going away for the night, Tommy had been more than happy to host a Halloween party of his own for friends still in the business.

“I feel like you used to put more effort in,” Jupiter says slowly, looking from the too-small, satin cape, back to his face, and Tommy shrugs.

“I guess I could always put on one of my old eighties stage costumes,” he muses, playing like he’s seriously considering it, acting as though he couldn’t see Jupiter and Penny’s expressions both turn horrified, “I’ve still got them somewhere in the back of my closet -”

“Oh Jesus, dad,” Jupiter hisses, “you know we all know too much about how Lola felt about that weird fetish shit you guys would wear on stage, please don’t -”

“It’s not fetish shit, Jup,” but Tommy’s grinning at how embarrassed they both were, “it’s hair metal, it was hip!”

“It’s a red and black leather harness at best, and tights; I’ve seen more conservative outfits at a BDSM dungeon -”

“Dude!” Penny’s eyebrows shot up, and Tommy’s mouth dropped open. Penny, horrified, looked to her uncle; “it was one time-” she says, trying to make things better, but doing the exact opposite right as Jupiter tries to tell him it was a joke. Penny and Jupiter look to each other, both horrified at what the other had said, how it must look.

“Pen!”

“It was Johnny’s idea!” Penny blurted out, and looked to Tommy, as if realising she was digging herself deeper, “we went there as a joke!”

“That part is true,” Jupiter conceded, but Tommy kept his mouth shut, raising his hands in surrender, as if to say ‘that’s your business, as adults, but I’d rather not know’, and he’s quick to leave them to their mutual, horrified bickering. 

He hadn’t even thought to ask what Penny was going as. All he knows is that she and Jupiter had been arguing because ‘it’s a trashy movie, Pen’ - ‘I love it, so shut up; you get witch powers from being an angry loner, I get them from being prom queen’ - ‘did we even watch the same movie? That’s not -” - “then just picture the original, you liked the original!’ - ‘oh, I’m past the movie itself, it’s the - they’re both angry loners, Pen,’ - ‘yeah, okay yeah, but it’s a cool aesthetic, Jup, come on -’. That was a few weeks ago, Tommy still isn’t quite sure what it could be, beyond witchy powers. Usually Penny’s costumes were straightforward, or she’d at the very least announce them in advanced...

Tommy finds himself blaming his own, erratic and mischievous child entirely; just as Lola had been known to be a bad influence on Charlie, so too could their children mirror this dynamic almost uncannily. 

It only gets stranger when, an hour after doing Jupiter’s makeup, they both seem to be in full costume, and should be ready to go, they’re nowhere to be found, but they haven’t said goodbye.

Penny comes rushing past Tommy in a whirlwind, carrying something bulky in her arms, making a beeline for the downstairs guest bathroom.

“Pen, whaddya got there?” Tommy calls out, and Penny stops dead. She’s in a pretty, white dress, with her hair all done up, and a tiara sitting on top. It’s... familiar. 

“Glue?” Penny’s obvious lie has Tommy frowning.

“Glue?” He asks, with a huff of disbelieving laughter. When she swivels towards him, he can see that she’s holding a large, white, pourable bottle, the label of which, Penny is conveniently covering. 

“We’re sniffing it?”

“Penny, what the fuck?” Jupiter calls from the bathroom, and Penny takes off at a run, avoiding Tommy’s further questions, and Tommy himself, who, with a sudden nervousness at whatever the real situation was, follows quickly. All he can see is large, clear plastic sheets covering every single surface and every wall, like the lair of a murderer in a movie, and then Jupiter’s face with all it’s dark makeup and sprayed up hair, as they’re apologizing, and slamming the door in his face. He’s pretty sure he read the word blood on somewhere on the bottle that Penny had put down.

“Jupiter Carlotta Lee, I’ve told you before that we don’t fuck with real witchcraft!” Tommy jiggled the handle, but the door was firmly locked, “not after what happened with Nikki and Lita!”

“It’s not witchcraft!” Jupiter calls back, and Tommy can hear Penny groan about how he’s still going to kill them.

“Don’t murder your fuckin’ cousin in there, you hear me?” He jiggles the door handle again, harder this time, not quite sure of what was happening in there, but concerned nonetheless. 

“Hey!” Penny shouts back, “why do you think I’m the one getting murdered in here?”

“I was addressing both of you,” Tommy sighed, leaning his forehead against the door, defeated, “what are you doing? What’s so bad that you have to keep me locked out?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re done -”

“Jupiter!”

“It’s messy,” Jupiter explained, and followed it up with a quiet, “okay, get in the bath, take off your shoes,” clearly not aimed at Tommy, before yelling back to him, “I’d rather do it, clean it up, and then beg for forgiveness in that order before you decide whether or not you want to murder us.” 

“Are you sure it’s safe to stand up there?” Comes Penny’s soft question to her cousin, followed by a phrase burned into the back of Tommy’s mind, somehow still there after everything it’s been through.

“Let go of me, I don’t need you to steady me -” 

And everything clicks into place, the blood, the outfit, the mess -

“Are you pouring fake blood on your cousin right now?!” Tommy’s tone is disbelieving, and he’s met with silence, and then the slow sound of liquid being poured.

“No?” Penny calls back, before spluttering a little, “it’s in my mouth.” She hisses.

“Then close your mouth!” Jupiter hisses back.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Pennylope; Jup?” Tommy squeezes his eyes shut as he remembers exactly how much scrubbing he and the rest of the occupants of the Motley House had to do over the next week, and even then the bathroom was never quite the same. 

But he’s met with silence, and then he starts to hear what can only be the excess fake blood dripping into the tub. And then the sound of a much emptier bottle being put on the bench.

“No, I am not currently pouring fake blood on my cousin,” Jupiter announces; Tommy thinks he can feel a headache forming with each moment that passes. There are moments exactly like this one, in which he is reminded that Jupiter is without a doubt his and Lola’s kid, which is both a blessing and a curse.

“Penny, stay in the tub,” he calls, “make sure you wash your feet off once you’re dry; a hairdryer helps it dry faster.”

Despite their confusion at how he would know such a thing, the pair in the bathroom know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Tommy, for his part, breathes a sigh of relief; this, at least, he knew how to handle. At least they put more thought into it than Charlotte and Lola had back in the day. 

Heading upstairs while they let the fake blood dry, he finds the photo Lola had dug up from her archives in her and Nikki’s garage. 

Eileen, Charlotte, Lola, and Peach, all in a row outside the Starwood, all grinning from ear to ear. Eileen as Mick, Lola as Frank N Furter, Peach as Supergirl, and Charlotte, beaming, covered in blood red paint, as Carrie.

By the time he resurfaces from the wave of memories that had overwhelmed him, Tommy gets downstairs to see the guest bathroom door open.

“How messy is it?” He calls, concerned. Jupiter sticks their head out. The hairdryer is still going. 

“Not as bad as I thought, should all just wash down the drain; the plastic on the walls was probably overkill,” they admit, and Tommy gives a thin-lipped grin, remembering the splatter that came up to knee height on the walls by the bathtub in the Motley House. Though, to be fair, Lola was simply pouring an entire bucket of thinned house-paint over Charlotte’s head - it was neither Lola nor Charlotte’s brightest idea, in hindsight - Jupiter, with a bottle of screen-grade fake blood from the looks of it, would have a much more controlled pour. 

And Penny would definitely have a much easier time getting it off.

When Tommy sees Penny, it’s like looking into a window from the past, the way she’s beaming, pleased and bright and covered in blood, she looks so proud to be horrifying.

“What now?” Penny asks, fond but exasperated, and Tommy snaps out of his thoughts, “what exactly about this,” she gestures to her whole self, blood soaked and standing in the tub, being hairdryed by Jupiter, “reminds you of mom?”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asks, playing dumb, and Penny’s expression softens, but she still rolls her eyes, arms out while Jupiter dries her.

“You get a look in your eye when I do something that reminds you too much of mom, and yeah it’s sweet, but this specifically is a really weird thing to get emotional -”

“This is your mom on Halloween, nineteen-eighty-one,” Tommy holds out the photo so she wouldn’t have to touch it, incase the blood on her hands was still wet, interrupting his niece.

“Oh,” Penny’s voice is so quiet, “for real?” She asks, eyes wide and misty when she looks at Tommy, and he gives a fondly amused look, and nod in response. “I didn’t even know,” Penny gave a quiet, disbelieving laugh, her own gaze turning adoring as she takes in the photo once more. 

Jupiter twists to look at the photo, still drying Penny, then looks in the mirror, then back at the photo, and scowls, but keeps quiet about how they’ve just realized, at least in terms of makeup and overall pallet, how similar their costume is to their mother’s. But they’re well aware that this isn’t their moment.

“Did Lola own pants?” Jupiter does mutter, more to themselves than expecting a response, and not getting one anyhow.

“Lola poured a bucket of red paint over her head in the apartment we shared, took five of us a full week to clean it all up after,” Tommy explained to Penny, smiling.

“No wonder you were worried about us doing the same thing,” Penny snorted, and leans in, looking at her mother’s smiling face; almost the same face she sees in the mirror, if not for the blue of her eyes.

“Yeah, but I should have known you two would be smarter about it, much as I love your mom, Jup, when we were young, she wasn’t exactly known for her common sense,” and as Tommy says it, even the quietly resentful Jupiter cracks a smile. 

“She looked so cool,” Penny muses, “they all do; that’s Aunt Eileen and Peach, right? The other two?” And Tommy confirms as much, also making sure to note that all four women were always better at Halloween than the rest of the band; in a move that Tommy’s seen Charlotte do a thousand times, Penny rolls her eyes, smirks, and says ‘yeah, obviously’ all smug and amused.

Tommy just smiles, asks if he can take a photo once Penny’s all dry, reminds them to call Lola and Nikki if they need a lift home, and waves goodbye to them when their taxi arrives.

The minute the taxi is off the property, Tommy’s cracking open a beer, and dialing Lola’s number in the minutes before his own guests are due to arrive.

“Lols, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what just happened.”

[misterbitches]

some thots. having a bad time so this is rougher than usual. oh well

....

i guess he really does know hiim best cos if that was my mans (man specifically cos if anyone else did that id take it more srsly) i would be like oh my god ur singing me a love song? i would love it but i woudl SCREAM in embarrassment. UNLESS it was a really deep love song that's about us dying together.

like i want to eat ur skin type of thing (drain u nirvana) lmaoa but i really like this song it reminds me of that velvet underground song (the only one i know cos of juno lmao) and nico or whatever 'i'm sticking with you)

my adhd would be out of fucking control i had to spend my time listening to this looking around i kept getting distracted by a tissue and thinking "wow this song is nice but i wish it would end bc i am getting distracted" and lo and behold i paused it and i have to pee and i know it's gonna take forever to undo this

ok about 12m later i turned it back on and they kissed and then he bit the corn then that night li chen also lost his virgin teas after watching gay porn and being like "hm interesting" and he'll be like "i see, ur dick is not medium sized"

i'm honestly gagging i cannot at this 12 year old marrying his mom

beautiful theyre beautiful

ayea you fucking psycho we do too because he was 17 and we had to witness it (or well, other people did cos i didnt watch the show even tho wayne song is [BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEP] and i want him to [BEEEEEEEP] and ppl even liked it which is fine like i get it in theory but they put this in my eyeballs so i'm gonna make fun of it bc it's fuckin DUMB lmao like i can't I CANNOT and he said "u were so persistent" BITCH UR 30??!?!???!?!?!?)capi hve it on mute and i tried to get a screencap of li chen and mu ren like together and not just his face but i cant find the timestamp and seeing their faces as they get married is literalyl traumattizing i'm like scremaing at my screen going "HE'S 5 HE'S 5 HE'S 5" and every time theyre like "we acn live forever together" like no bitch ur bones rae creaking

also is the officiator white? if anyone knows why or if that's common i'd love to know more. EDIT: HE ISN'T I JUST THOUGHT HE LOOKED LIKE MOBY FROM THAT ANGLE

anyway here

i'm almost done with this fucking bullshit and i am in a really ould mood and usu they make it a bit better but imo it's kind of....annoying i guess balancing all these story elements and introducin gother couples (even in the periphery) since the story in itself can't focus. i feel like all in all the time spent with these two is a lot more limited and we get the feel for the rship because of their chemistry as actors, irl chemistry as friends and colleagues, and hopefully being happy and working on a good set. so it isn't the strength of the writing or production.

for some reason they get like less dynamic ways of being together which i think is part of their charm, they do things their own way, but the writers really should have substantiated this more. it's really just the way everyone in the show has managed to deliver these AWFUL story lines and production decisions (like seriously who the fuck was on costume? lighting?)

like maybe hot take but all the moments that are cringe and insane in the show are not pleasant, per se, because they aren't thought out clearly. so they're not a joy to watch in the normal sense but the actors are good enough to pull it off. i didn't cringe at the talks they had because it felt like actors like acting these lines out instead of us being embarrassed for it and you CAN TELL theyre embarrassed.

this is a huge kudos to the casting director and the actors and whatever crew that actually did a good job. i don't particularly like watching bo xiang and his grandfather husband not because of the content but because i feel like, to me, they're so awkward even though they have chemistry. i don't have that issue with xing si and his rapist brother boyfriend because watching them is actually really pleasant, it's intimate. this isn't to do with the story though because when it hits you how devoid this other person is and how stupid the situation is it changes (for me, for me, for me, this is all my opinion think whateverrrr u want im not telling u 2 ok!)

so truly kudos to this cast. idk if i'm misremembering here but imo the most cast appropriate series in this was crossing the line and close to you. one is a decent atmosphere and execution (yes even with that brother story line, notice the major key differences though because that's a sincere false equivalence. they try to execute power imbalances soooo badly and then fail every time but here's one meant to shock too and it was just likelmao ok girl?)

it may not make sense to say either in a writing way or for the character to do it but i believe that whoever the characters these people are supposed to be especially those super not well written on the page still get that message aacross (yong jie's actor is a good ex. not sure if i should ccongratulate him for having the worst job on earth and the worst character and his character is flat but. ostensibly they should let their actions speak for themselevs but what they do is they back themselves into a ccorner with unsuretyabout their characters or a dilemma that pops up they just want to excuse it. well guess hwat u couldnt do enough legwork. but to some extent the disposable side couple works here on a um "our eyes see them and get it" way

also to me it seems like they chose this story just to have this specific wedding. like it's a timely topic and i'm pretty sure like another provision? (correction? idk) was made WRT taiwanese same-sex marriage so it's topical but it isn't like a "papa and daddy" situation where they're interacting in it and there (for ex: the pride parade) and there being like real life terms and consequences. here it seems like they were like ah yes wedding ah yes dumb couple from modc bc we kiled off the other one sooooo (then outsource them to life love on the line u__u) then hamfisting in some fucking message which is funny bc

- despite the hints peppered in and the clear attraction they both acknowledge ur like ~not gay just him~ even tho...i mean i just. again they dont read over what they write i don't think considering. but wahtever.

- the only gay dude (verbally said) is with his rapist brother with an awful power dynamic oh or IS a rapist (gao) (or his brother but i think it was just a "im a psycho so it's him" thing unless they said it. in which case idc cos i wasnt paying attn but that's also not great) or i guess the wedding but like....that's also a ridiculously inappropriate and dumb relationship taht it's built on. i mean i don't really see much respect her so i dont particularly want to hear abt gay weddings being important when they didn't even utilize it in the story beforehand and have we ever. this is a huge indication to me that it was a reverse engineered chosen story beforehand (if it was one) or thought of

soooooo

so reversal of that....it didnt give us enough time to breathe with these two at all but for both of the actors they can capitalize what's on the page and the writers didn't. like their dynamic is very i give/you give like taking car eof each other etc that's why

again, no artist worth their salt will ever say their work meant nothing. that's a cover up. i'm sick of lazy production and then getting away with it claiming being subversive or attacking an issue by not doing anything. we show crazy shit all the time but it has a POINT and ur point is "i like the gays" then girl.....i mean it's not great

but the acting really carried it. i have a feeling if this series continues it might continue to use more experienced actors cos maybe the budget goes up but they also have less inhibitions now when it comes to acting. i like the way li chen expresss himself and teng teng too. i like anson a lot and there's some angles that did not do any favors and i think eh has to get more control of his body movements (bc he's SO LARGE and thin) but he wasn't bad at all and there were real human tears. of course i, personally, favor charles tu. he has more control over his body because he has...less to work with and he's a bit bigger and he was really great in this role. he's a himbo a bit of a meathead but you like him. you like them. there's some things i think they had them say and do that they wouldn't let happen if they stuck to the characters and the story (mainly liking that dumb idiot rapist)

what i notice is that the reprehensible actions people criticize others for in the show and in real human life lalways gets turned around. teng teng being surprised that this boy's grandfather boyfriend met him when he was a junior in high school and he's 12 years older and him apologizing for being shocked and then whatshisface going "ur better at it than most people" and then the convo about gao with whatshisface and then rapist brother comes to pick him up. they are admonishing gao but thinking that rapist brother is noble for doin gwhat he did (and oh rapist brother shows up) like the hypocrisy and the decisions are immense. so now it's like "guys see he's a great guy" like girl STICK TO SOMETHING but whatever so i live in this universe where muren and li chen do everything right and have lots of different interesting fun seex with all their friends. i would write this but i cannot i am dying

[365days365movies]

March 16, 2021: Legend (1985) (Part Two)

Tom Cruise is terrible in this movie. Spoiler alert.

It’s not like I can claim that Cruise is one of my favorite actors working today, since he’s been in some real stinkers. But, like...he definitely got better over the years, seriously. Dude was not amazing in Top Gun, but he was WAAAAAY better than this performance.

All I know is that the dude...the dude’s been better, that’s all I’m saying. So has Mia Sara, while we’re at it. I mean, I didn’t even realize until looking her up that she was in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off! And here, she’s...whoof, OK? Also not her best role, is all I’m saying...again.

And Tim Curry...is another story entirely, holy shit. But I’ll get to him more later. The only other thing I want to say before going on is...goddamn, this movie is good looking. I’m not one of those “practical effects are better than CGI garbage” people, but GODDAMN, these are good makeup effects! Who did them, anyway? Rob Bottin? OH SHIT THIS GUY?

The makeup artist from fucking The Thing did the effects for this movie? HOLY FUCK! Dude also did RoboCop and Total Recall, so no wonder this film looks fantastic! Dude’s a Legend, dir. Ridley Scott.

Speaking of, let’s get back to it, huh? I’ll have more to say in the Review later, for sure. First part of the Recap is right here!

Recap (2/2)

As our little band escapes from the prison, they split up, with Jack, Gump, and Oona on one team, and Screwball and Tom on the other. Meanwhile, in his private throne room, Darkness speaks with his Father this time, whoever that is. He notes that he’s so close to making this world his own...but damn, that Lily girl is HAWT.

And unlike his mother, Darkness’ Father responds, nothing that she’s attractive to Darkness because she is so pure. Darkness must woo her, and corrupt her to the darkside. And somewhere, as Darkness speaks romantic words about Lily, a Goth baby is born, and a Goth fairy gets her vanta black wings. Yeah, Goth fairies are born from Tim Curry’s voice; that’s just biology, really.

Oona finds her way to the chamber where Lily is, and peers into it as Lily peers likewise into the fireplace there. Meanwhile, Jack and Gump are still searching, only to be set upon by...I don’t know goblin-witch-things? The mythology here isn’t very clear, gonna be honest. They run off, which Screwball and Tom find their way to the chamber where the Unicorn is.

Meanwhile, Lily ain’t doin’ too hot, and she’s lured in by, to be honest, shiny things. Yeah, she’s hanging out by the fire as Darkness’ father whispers to Darkness that she must be seduced. She’s distracted by pearls and diamonds, and finds a beautiful diamond necklace, which entices her. This is where I put a “women, amirite” joke, right?

Well, at that moment, a cherub statue on the piano comes to life, as does an onyx gown, which dances in front of her. And I gotta say, the effect is enticing, both to me and to Lily. Lily can’t resist dancing with the empty gown, and then becomes one with it, and, well...it’s a nice aesthetic.

But just as this outfit is revealed...so is somebody else.

GODDAMN. That is a gorgeous fucking creature, and I TOTALLY GET IT PEOPLE. The GF is only semi-watching, and she and I agree that if the actual Devil was that hot, there would be WAY more Satanists in the world. And here’s the thing, I’d love to put a billion GIFs here...but it can’t capture this performance accurately without a video, because GODDAMN THIS IS A GOOD PERFORMANCE

And to be clear, this isn’t the best movie. It’s actually pretty goddamn bad to be honest, but it’s SAVED ENTIRELY BY TIM CURRY I ONCE AGAIN CANNOT STRESS THAT SHIT ENOUGH

But we have to cut away from the best performance in the film (I guess), and we rejoin Jack’s group, who have also watched this performance through the door. Jack almost goes in, but Gump’s like, “Nah, dude, he is WAY too hot, you don’t have a goddamn CHANCE”, and they overhear Darkness say that his weakness is daylight. Jack and co. reconvene with Screwball and Tom to enact a plan. They rescue Blunder, who was almost cooked, then they fight and kill a few ogres and steal some giant metal pans.

Meanwhile, Darkness invites Lily to sit and talk with him. And again, GODDAMN IT I GET IT. He’s literally the ultimate bad boy, AND he’s a fucking romantic? Man, I swear that I’m straight, but FUCK ME I DO UNDERSTAND. After more wooing and sweet nothing, he offers her a rose, which makes me wonder why the fuck NOBODY’S tried this move on The Bachelorette! Just rolling up in a full Darkness costume, giving his various limes? That’d work on somebody, I know it would.

Lily’s constant defiance of his will enrages him, but she does agree to marry him, IF she’s allowed to kill the Unicorn herself. And that excites Darkness so much that there is NO WAY he doesn’t need to change his pants. Gross, I know, but I swear that I just saw him climax at that suggestion, seriously. Blame Tim Curry, not me!

As the ceremony is set to begin, and as the sun rises above the forest, Jack’s group uses the plates to set up a classic mirror trick, and uses them to reflect light from the outside directly onto Darkness. As they’re enacting this plan, Darkness is all set up to sacrifice the Unicorn, with Lily’s help. Or so he thinks.

Darkness is all set to extinguish light forever, and tells Lily to make the final killing blow. She seems set to do it, and Gump tells Jack to kill her. Instead, he fires the arrow at Darkness, and Lily frees the Unicorn, which runs away. Darkness, enraged, knocks Lily out, and when Jack goes after him, he also kicks his ass quickly. Even with Gump’s assistance from above, Jack is obviously completely screwed. 

It’s even worse, because Screwball passed out in trying to set up one of the plates for the reflection. But Oona comes to wake him up, and they set up the last plate just as Darkness is REALLY kicking Jack’s ass. Jack grabs the Alicorn at the last second, and uses it to stab Darkness, just as the light of day hits him. He calls out to his father for protection, but to no avail, as the light begins to destroy him.

But he points out something important: there is no light without dark, and he can never truly be defeated as a result. And then...yeah, uh, Jack just defeats him. Literally, he gets swallowed into the eternity of space somehow. Fuckin’...I dunno.

Gump tells Jack that, to revive Lily, he must fulfill his promise to...get her ring back. Um. Sure? As he does that, Gump takes the Alicorn and returns it to the dead Unicorn, bringing it back to life as the sun rises. And the Unicorns reunite at the same time that Jack and Lily reunite in love. And it’s...kinda gross? Like, goddamn, I’ve heard of happy endings, but this is RIDICULOUS.

As the denizens of the forest and the Unicorns wave goodbye to the lovers as they run away together, though, we also see Darkness one last time, laughing. I mean, yeah, no light without dark. They way they choose to edit it is a little weird, but whatever.

And that was The Last Unicorn! I mean...that was Legend! And, uh...yeah, see you in the Review, because I really only have one universally good thing to say about this movie. You know what/who it is.

[eternalgirlscout]

a while back @lesbians4sokka (i think? sorry for @ing you if i’m thinking of a different blog) asked me to share my thoughts about The Rise of Kyoshi, and seeing as i just finished the book last night (because i am a monster who gets most of the way through a book and thinks “if i keep reading it’ll be over i can’t have that”) i’m finally doing it now!

this got long as hell OOPS

spoilers under the cut

I want to talk about vengeance and justice in this novel.

back when I was only maybe a third of the way through it, i said on twitter that i was excited to see an avatar with an “opposite moral trajectory” to aang; in AtLA, aang has to learn to value justice over conflict avoidance, whereas RoK’s kyoshi has to prioritize justice over revenge. they come to similar conclusions from wildly different starting points. now that i’ve finished the book, i can’t decide how much i stand by that assessment. it feels reductive--which is a testament to the strength of F.C. Yee’s storytelling. while yes, aang and kyoshi both learn a great deal about justice, they act justly in very different ways.

aang, for reasons i like and appreciate from storytelling, ethical, and characterization perspectives (if you haven’t read my The Lion Turtle Is Good, Actually manifesto, you are legally obligated to do so now) has a strict rule about how he enacts justice that aligns with his beliefs and duties to the legacy of the air nomads. rather than killing people who abuse power to oppress others, he takes away the mechanism by which they accomplish violence--namely, their bending. in LoK we see that he continues to use this ability as an alternative to taking a life for at least most of his career as the avatar when he takes yakone’s bending.

kyoshi, on the other hand, has a very different philosophical development and ultimate approach to justice. her last conversation with lao ge summarizes the conflict between the mode of justice that works for aang (though obviously AtLA takes place chronologically after RoK, the novel is well aware that the reader has almost certainly seen the series first and takes ideas and details from it to flesh out the world, which i think is another strength of Yee’s) and the mode of justice she creates for herself.

“I feel... inconsistent. Unfair. Like I should have either killed them both or let them both live.”

...

“If you had a strict rule, maybe, to always show mercy or always punish, you could use it as a shield to protect your spirit. But that would be distancing yourself from your duty. Determining the fates of others on a case-by-case basis, considering the infinite combinations of circumstance, will wear on you like rain on the mountain... You will never be perfectly fair, and you will never be truly correct,” Lao Ge said. “This is your burden.” (405)

the stark difference between aang’s philosophical background and kyoshi’s leads them to very different outcomes with regard to their choices as the avatar. yes, aang makes decisions on a case-by-case basis as well, but he is not interested in retribution as much as restoration and has a line he will not cross. i could argue that kyoshi sees the two (retribution, restoration) as inextricable in the pursuit of justice.

but what about vengeance?

kyoshi’s hatred of her parents wears away over the course of the novel, but her need to enact revenge on jianzhu only becomes more urgent. she is not universally vengeful, but she does not let go of revenge as a goal until she has it... sort of.

speaking of which, i fucking screamed when yun showed up again. i had a feeling we hadn’t seen the last of him, but the timing of his appearance and the change in him hit me like a lightning bolt. sorry, i have to gush for a second about how interested i am in what’s up with him. i am a sucker for a literal dead boy walking, for someone who has been turned into something Other by forces outside their control, and no matter what kyoshi ends up having to do to deal with him, i know i’m going to go feral for it. this is a Yun Stan Account until further notice.

anyway. it’s fascinating that kyoshi doesn’t actually get her revenge per se. yun does. he avenges himself, and it (likely) only causes more problems for kyoshi. and i think the distinction between vengeance and justice is quite wonderfully articulated afterwards:

How could such a container [as Jianzhu’s body] have held the volume of her anguish, her wrath? If any feeling at all pressed through the numbness... it was the ire of a hoodwinked child who’d been promised the end of her bedtime story only to see the candle-lights snuffed and the door slam shut. She was a girl alone in the dark. (430)

she gets the outcome she wanted: jianzhu dead. but her path to him “simply ended.” she has pragmatic advantages now that he’s out of the way--freedom, for one thing, and rangi’s safety, but those weren’t the things that drove her to want her revenge. there is a hollowness to it, a lack of catharsis. revenge is about the self, not the other.

and selfhood is something else kyoshi gives up.

one of the most striking lines in this novel appears when she walks into the tea house to meet jianzhu. at this point, kyoshi has assembled a motley outfit of expensive armor, theater costume pieces, battle accessories, outlaw facepaint, and bending aids for the heretical air nomad. she looks fucking weird. she’s like a video game PC wearing all the highest-stat armor she could loot from random dungeons and none of it matches. literally an assemblage of the places she’s been and the people who have helped her.

This was who she was now. This was her skin. This was her face. (418)

as the avatar, kyoshi has to be a symbol more than a person, even though she is fundamentally a human being as fallible as anyone else. the people who hear of her defeat of xu think she’s a spirit or a dragon in human disguise--regardless of what kyoshi wants and who she is, the world expects her to be something More. so, she gets dressed up and gives them what they need to see.

watching that transformation over the course of one novel is incredible. the path from the girl she is at the start of the novel to the woman we see advise aang that only justice will bring peace is far from over, but the trajectory is more than established. i’m really excited to see what Yee brings to another novel. kyoshi is just getting started.

some other miscellaneous thoughts:

i loved the choice to have a YA writer write this novel. not just for the obvious reason that Avatar is a franchise primarily for kids and teens, but because a lot of the common stylistic elements in YA fiction serve this story incredibly well. (by no means are any of these universal, of course; YA is a broad category of literature with huge stylistic and generic diversity, but in general it has these strengths.) the third person limited pov that switches between various characters gives a vital breadth to the story. there are a lot of moving pieces, and being able to see most of them in real time cuts back on exposition and heightens tension when you can watch their collision course. the focus on the given pov character’s interiority is put to incredible use, especially on the occasions when kyoshi enters the avatar state--and when it’s revealed that jianzhu hides things from even the reader, it becomes all the more staggering what a cunning bastard he is (jianzhu hate blog right here). kyoshi’s blushy crush on yun and even blushier crush on rangi are so good and are woven naturally into the story (bi fuckin rights babey!). that’s a teen with a big heart right there. also, fun swerve to the love triangle trope to get one of the love interests eaten by a spirit a few chapters in! his mind...

the part where kyoshi runs through a stone wall and leaves a kyoshi-shaped hole had me rolling, not just because i was impressed by how well that visual gag worked in prose but also because i can’t believe neither (to my memory) AtLA nor LoK pulled that.

HIDDEN PASSAGE... HIDDEN PASSAGE... THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS...

again i say: bi fucking RIGHTS

and i guess that’s all. stay tuned for the masterpost of Rise of Kyoshi memes i made as i read the book because i have a whole folder of them

[anothers-trash-my-treasure]

Countdown

Back at it again with a fic that nobody asked for lmfao. Can you believe it’s already been like a year since I made this blog? Fucking wild. Anyways, here’s a new year's fic with our main boy Merriell because I am incapable of writing for anyone else it seems #whoops.

Summary: Set kind of in modern times I guess. Reader and Mer go to a New Year’s party in which an ex is there and it just kind of escalates to fucking in a linen closet. 

Pairing: Merriell Shelton / Reader (femme)

Warnings: Oh god where do I start, filthy dirty talk, possessiveness on both parts, maybe a bit of jealousy, oral sex (male receiving), fingers, semi-public sex, lemme know if there’s something else I should put here

Words: 2540 

Tags: @r-ahh-mi @sherlollydramoine @txml @xmxisxforxmaybe @moon-stars-soul let me know if you wanna be added to my tag list or if I missed you!

~

The New Years party we’re at isn’t particularly fancy, one of Merriell’s old friends from high school. It’s almost a reunion, only far less formal. People are dressed up but most of the party-goers are acting more like it’s the night of their senior prom. There’s beer pong set up on the dining room table, some sort of suck and blow card game being played in the living room and loud drunken conversations are taking place around us. I stand in the kitchen, conversing with some girls I know vaguely from over the years of attending parties like this, making polite conversation. I usually don’t care for small talk, it’s hard to care about why someone you barely know had stopped drinking or how they managed to get insurance payments so low, but the amount of alcohol in my system makes it easier to pretend. 

“You must be something special” One of the girls directs at me, I don’t remember her name but I know she and Mer had a brief fling in high school, years ago, “I remember Shelton in high school, no one thought he’d ever settle down. What’s your secret?” It sounds so condescending coming from her. A stereotypical suburban trophy wife. Married a Chad or a Brad right out of high school just to say they were high school sweethearts when in reality they could barely stand each other, cheated on each other every other night.  Probably prom queen and he’s probably football quarterback. She’s never had to work for anything in her life. She’s always pissed me off. And right now there’s just enough alcohol in my system for me to clap back at her. 

Almost as if he sensed my annoyance, Merriell’s suddenly by my side, arm looping around my waist to settle a hand possessively on my hip to hold me back, “Hiya Darlin’,” he greets, kissing my temple lovingly. “Everythin’ alright?” 

“Yeah,” I answer, smiling up at him, “we were just talking about you actually.” He raises his eyebrows, his eyes crinkling in amusement as he hums in response, “About how I managed to wrangle you away from the bachelor life.”

He chuckles, hand squeezing my waist, “Baby, you know you didn’t have to wrangle me away from nothin’, I knew the second I laid eyes on ya that I’d follow ya to the ends of the world.” 

The suburban wife coos, but one look at her face shows barely masked jealousy and I can’t help but feel smug. Just to piss her off a little more, I drag his head down to meet my lips, kissing his just on the side of too dirty for a public place. It’s quick though, and when we pull away he looks at me with a mixture of amazement, amusement and lust.

“C’mon,” I say pulling him towards to door to the living room, “I need a new drink.” 

I don’t. But I want to get away from the group of wives before I do something that’ll ruin the night. He follows me, hot on my tail, out of the kitchen, both hands on my hips now. He takes control, leading me to a hallway off the main room, turning me in his grasp to let me rest against the wall. 

“Love it when you get all territorial like that.” He smirks down at me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feign innocence, wrapping my arms around his neck but refusing to meet his gaze.

He doesn’t let me keep my head turned for long, using his nose against mine to turn my head to his and capture my lips in another kiss. He keeps kissing me, each one a tad more urgent than the next and I know where this is going. 

“Merriell,” I warn against his lips, “You best turn the heat down, you remember what happened last time.”

He pulls away slightly, huffing in annoyance but smirking as the memory catches up with him. We’d been invited to a Halloween party. And of course, Merriell insisted that I wear the sluttiest costume he could find. Needless to say, he didn’t make it until we got home. He’d gotten himself all worked up and had to take me to the nearest bathroom. Bent me over the sink and fucked the near daylights out of me. It wouldn’t have been a problem; if he had remembered to lock the door. 

He hums, “I remember that bein’ kind of exciting’.” He says lowly, rubbing his nose against mine. 

“No,” I say sternly.

He pouts, whines while his hands rub up and down my back and down to grab my ass, “Bet I could persuade you.”

I raise my eyebrows at him, “Persuade?” I smirk, “Using your big boy words, I see.”

He growls playfully against my neck, nipping and sucking at the skin there, “Shut up,” he plays, moving his hot mouth further up my neck to my jawline, up further to my ear where he sucks my earlobe into his mouth. My mouth drops on a pleasured sigh, running my hands up his arms and squeezing ever so slightly. I have to bite my lip on a whine when he blows cool air on the spit left on my ear. 

“C’mon baby,” he mumbles, breath hot against the side of my face, “I know you wanna.” 

I huff, annoyed that he knows me so well, that he knows how to work my body into such a frenzy when he’s barely touched me. He glances down the hallway briefly before move one of his hands around to the front of my jeans. He rubs lightly at the front of my jeans, my hips responding by pressing against the friction. He chuckles darkly, moving his hand up to the top of my jeans and dipping his fingers in past the waistline of my underwear, just teasing. My breath hitches in anticipation.

“We can’t,” I try one last time at feigning innocence, despite my entire body betraying my true desires, “the countdown starts soon.” 

That only rips a low moan from Merriell’s throat and prompts him to catch my lips in a dirty kiss, sucking on my tongue slowly, “Wanna fuck you into next year.” I can hear the smirk in his voice and I curse under my breath, knowing full well he has me wrapped around his finger.

He laughs delightfully, knowing he’s won, and drags me to the nearest room. This time, it’s not a bathroom, but a sizeable linen closet. There’s enough room for us, but it’s tight and I have a feeling we’re about to get real hot and sweaty. 

He wastes no time, crowding me against the back wall and all but devouring my lips. His hands are everywhere. Sliding up my neck and into my hair, back down my body, along the length of my spine, down to grab my ass and then grabbing one thigh, bringing it up to his hips so he can effectively grind against me. I gasp into his mouth at the feeling of his erection against my clothed heat.

“Can you believe,” he breathes, biting my bottom lip, “that the first thing imma feel going into the new year is your hot pussy around me.” 

I choke on a moan, dragging him back down for another kiss that’s just as filthy as his words. He gets to work on my pants, fumbling with the button a bit before finally pulling them down my legs. I kick one leg free to hoist my thigh up to his hip again. We just need enough nudity for easy access. His hand dips down into my panties, fingers finding their way to my clit to rub slow, teasing circles.

He groans, “already so wet for me, cher.” his lips quirk up into a smirk, “wonder if it’s just as wet down...” he trails off, removing his hand from my panties so he can tug them to the side a sink a single finger into me. He shudders on a moan, “fuckin’ hell baby.” 

He adds another finger and my breathing begins to pick up as he slides them in and out of my now soaking core. My hands are tangled in his hair, keeping his eyes locked on mine. He crooks his fingers, pressing against my g-spot and my head rolls back on a breathy moan, eyes slipping shut for a moment. When I open them again he’s smirking at me, fingers still moving languidly inside of me. 

“Fuck me,” I whisper. His eyebrows shoot up but he makes no move to change his course of action. I whine, rolling my hips against his hand, “fuck me.” I beg, “Need to feel you.” My hand moves to the front of his jeans, where he’s hard and throbbing through the rough material. I scratch my nails against him, watching the shiver that wracks his body, watching his mouth drop ever so slightly on a silent moan, “Need to feel this.” I take a breath before adding, “Deep inside me.”

And then he’s near scrambling, barely getting his belt unbuckled before shoving his pants and briefs to the ground. Before he can do much else though, I sink to the ground, overwhelmed with the need to take him into my mouth. 

There is truly not much better than watching his come apart in my mouth. I love watching the way his mouth drops open and his eyebrows furrow when I take him as deep as I can. His hand comes to rest at the crown of my head, just guiding my movements ever so slightly. His forearm of his free arm braces himself against the wall, hand clenched around nothing, hips rocking ever so slightly. 

“Such a talented little mouth ya got there,” he breathes, always unable to keep his words to himself, “Always so hot and wet for me. Could stay here all night.” at my answering moan, he smirks through the shudder that wracks his body, “Yeah? Ya like that? Wanna stay on your knees for me? Taking my cock in ya mouth like the perfect little cocksucker you are? Huh?” 

I feel my pussy clench around nothing, his words never fail to wound me up. I drag my nails down his thighs, grab his bare ass and pull him further towards me, pass my gag reflex so he can feel my throat work around him. He growls, pulling out and dragging me back up. He claims my mouth, tongue making its way past my lips to chase the taste of himself. 

“Gotta fuck you,” he says breathlessly. 

I whine, nodding enthusiastically as he grips both my thighs and hoists me up the wall, “fuck me.” I say desperately, wrapping an arm around his neck. The feeling of the head of his cock tease my opening has me going crazy, “Merriel, please.” 

I swear, I see stars as he finally sinks into me, stretching and filling me in all the right ways. My head rolls back, thunking against the wall with a pleasurable sigh. 

“Yeah,” He sighs, cranking his neck up to kiss me, “Feels so fuckin’ good.”

I wrap my legs around his waist as best I can in this position, wanting to feel him deeper. He starts to move, at first just rocking steadily in and out before starting to properly thrust. It’s a steady pace, but he reaches so deep that I can’t help but bury my head in the crook of his neck, trying to stay quiet. The noises of the party just outside the door blur, not even the footsteps of people making their way to and from the bathroom can tear me away from the feeling of him hitting all the right spots. 

I can’t help that sound that’s ripped out of me when he thrusts particularly hard, the head of his cock dragging against a pleasurable spot on my front wall. He laughs breathlessly, “Gotta be quiet baby,” he teases, hitting that same spot again just to watch me bite my lip and dig my nails into his arm, “Don’t want anyone walking in on us this time, do we?” 

It always blows my mind how he’s able to talk during this, his speech steady but bouncing with every hard thrust of his hips. 

“Or maybe,” he smirks, “You want people to find us? Especially all those girls who wanted me. Want them to see that it’s only you who gets me.”

Knowing there are girls at this party that had wanted him, no matter how many years ago, sends a pang of possessiveness through me. My hand flies to his jaw, tilting his head so I can stare into his eyes, “You’re mine.” I near growl.

He laughs, or tries to through a moan at least, “All yours baby,” he agrees, “But you’re mine too, don’t forget that.” His thrusts slow for a moment, teasing thrusts from the tip of his dick all the way down until skin meets skin.

“Such a nice pussy, who’s it belong to?” he asks, and we’re so close. Chest to chest, nose to nose, breathing in each other's breaths and moans. 

“You,” I answer, “It’s yours, Mer, all yours.” 

I feel myself getting closer as he speeds up again, taking one look at his face and I can tell he is too. His eyes are shut, eyebrows pulled down into a look a concentration and his mouth is open, letting out a series of soft sighs and moans. 

Someone from outside the door yells, their voice barely carrying past the sounds of skin on skin and continuous moans, “30 seconds ‘till New Years!” 

Merriell fixes me with a gaze of determination, “Ya close baby?” 

I nod, working my hips back against his thrusts desperately as I feel myself climb towards relief, “Yes,” I breath, kissing him sloppily.

His noises are turning desperate, like he’s holding on barely by a thread, “So fucking close..” he whines, head dropping to my chest where he sucks a mark into the exposed skin. 

15....14....13....12....11

“Look at me,” I beg, wanting to watch him come apart. 

He meets my gaze, our noses brushing together as we pant hotly into each other's mouth.

10....9....8....7....6

“Oh god,” he groans, “Baby, I’m gonna...” 

The sensations are adding up, his pelvis brushing against my clit with each pleasurable thrust. 

...5....

“Are you gonna...?” he asks, 

I nod.

....4....

“Yes,” I whimper, “God, Merriell.” 

....3....2....

“Oh fuck,” he growls, teeth latching onto my shoulder hard, and my nails dig into his bicep.

....1....

Relief crashes over us simultaneously. I can’t stop the moan that leaves my lips as I cum around him, clenching tightly, feeling him throb and twitch and fill me with his own. The party outside rages but we’re too caught up in our own euphoria to notice it. 

Merriell’s thrusts turn shallow as he rides out our orgasms, capturing my lips in a sloppy kiss, muffling our moans and whimpers. We breathe heavily against each other as we come down, hips twitching with aftershocks. 

His eyes flutter open and he looks at me with a sated and satisfied smile. 

“Happy New Year.” 

[cilliansaccent]

The Peaky Designer - Cillian Fanfic, Chapter 20

Hello, welcome back. Below is the next instalment of my fanfiction!

Leave a like or a comment if you liked it, or if I can do anything better! Please, it would mean the world and to understand if anyone is enjoying my writing. Also, sharing/reblogging would be even better.

PLEASE READ:

I will not be including Cillian’s family as it’s kinda weird since he has children lmao. Just a mention of his parents and a previous lover.

I will indicate in a chapter if there is smut in the beginning and before the actual scene!!

I will add trigger warnings if there is any!!

There is a variety of levels of swearing during a chapter, I will not hold back, everyone swears.

The timestamp for the Fic is now 2016 and onwards!!

——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——-

Background: Gabrijela Babic is a Croatian girl from Sydney, Australia. She is born in the year 1991 on the 24th of December. She studies a Fashion degree in a University with a major in Game Design as well. Her teacher in the fashion designer class managed to nail an Internship on the set of Peaky Blinders with the shows very own Costume Designer, Allison McCosh. There, she travels to London for under a year to learn how to be one, working alongside the actors as well the man she admires, Cillian Murphy. But, her platonic feelings for the man begins to grow into something more, and she wonders whether she should pursue them or let him go for fear of her strict parents and her three older brothers…

Characters:

Swantje Paulina as Gabrijela Babic (swalina on Instagram)

Cillian Murphy

Word Count: 4,972

!!Warnings!!: None!!

Date: February 2017

Chapter Name: Disaster

Brief Chapter Outline: Her Sunday gig went fine till Lucia came along and spilled some information to Leo, Gabrijela’s brother. The next day Gab faces off with her parents about who she’s been seeing with. It ends badly...

——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——- ——-

It came around to her Sunday gig and tonight it seemed more people had joined in the club.

"God! I've never seen this place so packed!" Maya said as they were readying themselves on the stage.

"Literal madhouse." Ben nodded as he plucked his guitar to tune it.

Gabbie giggled and glanced up, Cillian was seated right at the front, drinking his favourite beer. He raised it and gave her a smile then mouth 'I love you'.

She blushed and repeated it in the same manner before it was time to start the show. They played mostly rock again this time, replaying some fan favourites from last night.

Cillian watched from his vantage spot since he had to move now as people crowded around the damn stage to dance and take photos. He was unable to see his love so he stood a little farther back drinking his beer. He took some photos but not much, he liked to remember the moment and not have a phone to aid him in remembering.

He was minding his own business when someone brushed up against him, "Hey, Cillian."

Glancing over, Cillian frowned and moved away. The girl was dressed in a leopard patterned tube top with a matching mini skirt that really was sitting at the edge of baring her ass. She had curly black hair and eyes that seemed to gobble him up and readying him for sex.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" He did not like how the girl had come on to him so strongly, and she stayed way to close for comfort.

"What? How can you not know me?" She looked totally hurt. "Lucia. You know, Gabbie's only best friend in this whole fucking world." She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

"Ah... Yes. Lucia. Hi." He kept his guard up, he wasn't going to let this girl do anything to him. He remembered when Gab had told him what happened between Logan and Lucia.

"Hi. No how are you? Wow, thanks. I'm fine." She raised a brow. "You gonna get me a drink or should I stay here looking like a moron?"

Cillian was in total shock as to how she was acting. Rude and pushy. He never really came across anyone like her and so he stuttered when he tried to speak. No use.

"Of course. I know. I am so fucking gorgeous, I know that's what you are thinking and why you are so dumbfounded and not speaking. So, I shall forgive you for that." She touched his arm and gave him a smile that made him shiver. "Oh? You liked that?" She had backed him to a pole and he frowned.

"I don't. Please stop touching me." He had set down his empty beer glass and gently pulled her hands off him.

"What? You like, shivered so of course, you liked that." She went to reach for his shirt and he grabbed her wrists.

"Stop. I will call the security to kick you out. Now leave me alone, please." He stayed entirely calm.

"What's happening here?" Gabbie asked as she weaved her way through the crowd.

Cillian hadn't seen them finish and sighed, "Nothing. I was telling Lucia to leave me be."

"Shall I call the security?" Gab asked as she stepped to his side, locking her arm around his. She looked at Lucia, no hint of emotion.

"No! Oh my god. I wasn't doing anything at all, how can you think that? God, I missed you!" Lucia went to go hug Gab but she threw her hand out to stop her.

"What is wrong with you?" She asked with a deep frown.

"What? Nothing is wrong. I miss my bestie! Can't I hug you?" Lucia placed her hands on her hips.

"No. And I am not your bestie. I'm nothing to you. Now leave us alone, I don't want to see you at all." Gabrijela tugged Cillian away as Lucia watched them go with pure anger and hatred shining in her eyes.

"Sorry about that." Gabbie said as they came to the bar.

"No, no. Don't be sorry. Not your fault." Cillian leaned down and kissed her forehead. "What are you gonna have?" He asked her as he pulled out his wallet to pay.

"Uh. Nothing if you're paying." Gabbie placed her hand over his. "I got this. I swear."

"No, please. You've been playing all night. Let me treat you to something." He held her hand and smiled in a way that would so make her comply with him.

She groaned, "Fine. Only cause you're cute." She giggled and he ordered her a mocktail.

"I'm gonna head to the men's toilet, you good here by yourself?" He asked.

"Yep. I'll wait here." She kissed him softly and he slipped away.

Gab stood there, sipping her drink and enjoying the atmosphere. Until someone stepped up beside her.

"Who was that?" Leo, Gabrijela's brother, the youngest of the three older brothers she had.

"Wh- Leo! Hi, hello. Who was who?" Gab raised a brow. Her heart instantly kicked in fast mode, no one in her family knew she was dating a guy. Especially a much older guy who had knocked her up now.

"Gabrijela. The one you kissed." He raised a brow, dark eyes bore into hers in that familiar overprotective instinct.

"No idea what you are going on about. You must've mistaken me for another couple beside me." She turned away, facing the bar as she twirled her glass.

He muttered a curse word in Croatian and was about to tell her off when Lucia wedged herself between them.

"Hi, Leo. Nice to see you again." She battered her eyes at him.

"Lucia." Leo wasn't fond of Lucia one bit.

Gabrijela was getting worried now. She wasn't ready to tell her family that she was dating Cillian and Lucia was here now... Oh fuck.

"Has Gabbie told you the good news?" Lucia smiled wickedly at Leo.

"What news?" His brows furrowed.

"Jeez, she's been real secretive now, huh?" She turned to Gab. "Go on. Tell him."

"There is nothing to speak about. Now get lost, Lucia. I have no idea why the fuck you are here." Gab was going to lose her shit. She truly hated Lucia. She ruined her life and she wasn't going to let her do it again.

"Oh my god. Fine, I'll tell him." She sighed and rolled her eyes and turned to Leo, "She's fuckin' Cillian Murphy. You know, the dude from Peaky Blinders. Plays Thomas Shelby. The super old guy." Lucia dumped the news on Leo. "They practically fucked the first night she was in London, I saw it when I was speaking to her-"

Gabrijela snatched someone else's drink and used her own to just dump it on the bitch, "You son of a bitch! Stop ruining my life!" She screamed, totally losing her shit now.

Lucia screamed out and faced her, and gave one mighty shove which made Gabrijela hurtle backwards with Lucia on top of her.

Cillian saw it all unfold as he had arrived over and he and Leo jumped into action and yanked off the screeching woman off Gabrijela who almost clawed her face off.

"Fuck you! Why can't you see I'm helping you?! I am your best friend! Forever!" Lucia hollered as a security guard came over to drag her dumb ass out.

Gabrijela was in shock as Cillian's arms came around her and helped her to her feet, "Holy shit. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He did not let her go.

"I need air." She whispered to him as she held on to him for dear life.

"I got you." He whispered gently as they walked out of the bar and away from the people to a bench along the street a little way down the path.

Gabrijela sat and took in deep breaths, her hand subtly on her tummy as she calmed her nerves.

"What the fuck was that, Gab?" Leo had found them outside and wasn't too happy. "Talk to me now."

"Excuse me, it's clear she needs a moment, whoever you are." Cillian stood and kept himself between the guy and Gab.

Leo glanced at him, "She's my fucking sister. I need to talk to her."

"Give her a moment, then you may," Cillian repeated with a much more clear and authoritative tone.

"And who the fuck are you? You the guy that's fucking my sister? Huh? Are ya?" Leo was getting up into his face now.

"Leo. Fuck. Off." Gabrijela looked up, "Seriously. I do not want to talk to you right now. I need to be on my fucking own." She stood and began to walk down the street.

"Don't you talk to me like that, I need you to come right back here! Now!" Leo shouted.

"I said leave me alone! Do you not get that? LEAVE. ME. ALONE!!" Gabrijela shouted back.

Cillian was at her side and arm around her, "Hey. Relax. Come on. Let's go back to my hotel yeah?"

"Oh hell no she isn't. She's coming back home with me. Mum and Dad want to talk to you and I think I know what it is." Leo's eyes focused on Cillian now.

Gab saw the look and felt sick suddenly, then threw up all over her brother.

"Gah! The fuck!" He stumbled back as he glanced at himself then at Gabrijela. "You go back with him, Mum and Dad are gonna be so mad."

"Don't care." Gab stayed close to Cillian as he hailed a taxi and they got in.

"Gabrijela, come on- Fucking hell get out of that taxi!" Leo yelled as he watched the cab drive off.

Gab wrapped her arms around herself, shaking her head. "My god." She whispered.

"That was a mess," Cillian said, placing a hand on her thigh gently.

"It was." She murmured and leaned against him some more.

They reached the hotel finally and her phone had not once stopped buzzing from Leo or her friends. She replied to her friends she was okay and not to worry much. She sat on the bed as Cillian prepared a bath for her in which she was grateful for then undressed and eased into the warm water.

Cillian stayed close, "Want me to put music on?" He asked as he stroked her hair gently.

She glanced over and nodded, "I'd love that. And... Is it okay if I could be alone for a bit?" She murmured softly.

"Of course my love. You can take as long as needed." He leaned over and kissed her lightly and set the music up, turned the lights low which she was eternally grateful for and she was alone. She sunk back into the water a little and soaked up the oils and scents.

Tonight had gone good and then ended badly. Lucia had once again ruined her life and she had not expected Leo to be there. And what the fuck did he mean by Mum and Dad wanting to talk to her about? She thought hard and... Maybe... Oh god. Gab felt panic rise in her but she tried to push it away.

She had to find out tomorrow whether she liked it or not.

 -----

 Cillian had been the best to her all night and all morning. He had made sure she was comfortable, happy and well-fed. And by fed not just by food.

Gab flopped back on the bed beside Cillian. She was grinning, she had ridden him for most of the fuck session which his morning wood had woken her.

"God." Cillian looked at her, his smile wide, "You really take the breath out of me." He reached over and cupped her face.

"Do I now? Is that good?" She rolled over and placed a hand over his chest, fiddling with that fine hair.

"I think so. Or it's showing how old I am getting." He chuckled softly.

"Nah. I think you just haven't had someone like me." She leaned in and kissed him deeply.

"Mm, true." He murmured as he turned to pull her close to his body. He made to move on top of her to continue but her damn phone rang. Again.

"Ugh." Gabbie groaned as he laid back as she sat up and padded to her bag. She pulled out her phone and cursed.

"Who is it?" Cillian sat up, his back to the headboard.

"My Dad. And Mum. Called me like eight times." She let the phone ring to the end. Then listened to the voice message.

"Hi, Gabrijela. I've been calling you all morning now and you are not picking up. Leo informed me of who you got into the taxi with and you need to come home right this instant. We need to have a chat of what you have been up to and what you have been hiding from us. Get home now."

She rolled her eyes. Her dad was very pissed off. She listened to her Mum's.

"Hello, darling. Please pick up I want to know if you are safe, that is all. Your father is cursing up a storm here and it would be good of you to at least call one of us. Please come home, we need to discuss some things."

Gabrijela knew her mum was trying to be nice but she knew she was very disappointed in her. She sighed, "I have to head home, Cillian."

"Your parents?" He frowned as she began to dress.

"Yep. I am going towards a war zone right now. I need to mentally prepare myself." She had hoped nothing bad would go this arvo. She had plans for tomorrow with Cillian as it was Valentine's day. A surprise for him and she was quite excited about it. She had done the organising yesterday morning when they lazed around in bed.

"And you have to go now?" He asked as she came to the bed and sat down.

"I do, sadly. I'm sorry Cillian." She frowned and took his hand, "I don't want to but for the sake of my parents... I must." She let out a sigh through her nose.

He squeezed her hand, "Okay. I'll figure something to do today." He smiled, "I love you. Call me later if you can?"

"Always. Also, be ready by ten tomorrow morning." She leaned over and kissed him deeply.

"Why?" He returned it, moving closer.

"Can't tell you. It's a surprise." She giggled and patted his cheek as they kept kissing and she was the one to pull away. "Bye-bye. I love you forever, Cillian." She murmured and he watched her leave the room.

Upon arriving home, she was glad her parents were not home and had gone to work. She spent time with her niece Tijana and her sister-in-law Tatiana who was married to Leo. She had spoken to Tatiana about what was to come tonight and she was happy that her sister-in-law was supportive.

"Leo was all mad." She said as they sat outside in the backyard, Tijana playing with her toys.

"I bet he was." Gab sighed as she took a drink of her coffee. "He yelled at me last night after Lucia attacked me and demanded me to go home. I seriously did not want to go home."

"You stayed with that man? What is his name? What is he like?" She asked with a small smile.

"I did. His name is Cillian." Gabrijela found herself smiling at the thought, "He is the most amazing man I've ever met. We got so much in common, we always have something to talk about. He cares for me, knows my likes and dislikes... He knows me very, very well."

Tatiana watched her and could see the pure love radiating off her, "You love him?"

"I am. So, so, so deeply in love with him. I cannot think of myself with any other person but him." Gab whispered, "I am unbelievably happy, Tatiana. I really am. I've never been in such a good mind before. He makes me crazy."

Tatiana laughed, "And... How old is he? I don't want to judge you or anything but..."

"He's forty-one this year," Gabrijela said softly.

"Wow. Uh... Yeah. That's a big gap. Mum and Dad don't know how old he is, don't think Leo has figured that out yet." Tatiana said. "Though, is he good though?"

"Good in what?" She raised a brow.

"You know. Sex! You must be having sex with him, right? Or is this just a no sex relationship?" Tatiana giggled.

"Of course I am having sex with him! Ugh, he is amazing. Like holy crap amazing. I'm always breathless afterwards." They both laughed and Tatiana beamed.

"And he treats you good?"

"Always. Trust me. He treats me good in many ways, not just in bed." Gabrijela blushed.

The girls spent their day in the backyard before it was time to head inside.

Then it was the sounds of hell rattling down the road and her fathers truck pulled up and parked in the driveway beside the house. Gabrijela was stressing when her mum came home soon after her dad had walked in. The usual discussion of how was his day and making coffee for him then for her mum.

It was about an hour that had passed, Leo home as well when Gabrijela came to the table with her family. She sat at the head of the table for a first and knew she was in for a ride tonight. The worst kind.

"Why didn't you come home with me last night, Gab?" Leo started.

"With the way you spoke to me, no way," Gab said bitterly.

"So you went back with that man? Is that where you went?" He asked.

"Yeah. Back to his hotel room cause I wasn't feeling well and stressed out, Leo. I got attacked by Lucia and almost had my face ripped off!" Gabrijela raised her voice.

"What happened now?" Liljana, her mother, asked with wide eyes. As if this was new to her.

Gab stared at her brother in shock, "You left that bit out? Yeah, Lucia attacked me after she was pestering me all night. She's a damn psycho. I poured wine on her to shut her damn mouth up." Gab shook her head.

"Yeah to shut her up from telling me that Gabrijela is dating a man. Who I know is an actor and a much older actor. I've seen him in that show I've been watching with Gab." Leo bristled.

Gab glanced between her parents, "Fine. Yeah. I've been dating a man who I am very much in love with, alright?"

"How'd you two meet?" Her mum asked.

"When I was overseas doing that internship for the show Peaky Blinders. He's the main character for that show, I had to prepare his costume for each day and help him dress and all that." Gab explained. "We talked. Got close but not close enough since I was with another guy, Logan. Though I had a bad falling out with him as Lucia had come to see me and she slept with him. After that, Cillian, the guy I am now dating, was there for me when I needed someone. And it... Just happened. We clicked after that and now we are inseparable." Gabrijela explained the best she could.

"And how old is this man, Gab? Hm?" Her dad now chimed in.

Gabrijela swallowed. This was it, "He is turning forty-one this-"

"Forty-One?! Gabrijela what is wrong with you? He is too old for you! No! I do not allow this stupidity of yours. You cannot see this man anymore. Whatever it is, it will not last. You are so young, you can do so much better!" Her dad yelled with anger.

"I love him, dad! I am not going to throw all that away just because you don't like it!" Gabrijela was beyond angry now. She was hurting.

"No! You do not know love. You got no experience in what is love. This man, clearly only using you because you are young and agile. He will not want you in a year or two. Do not make a fool of yourself, Gabrijela." Nikola shook his head, "Unbelievable. I thought I raised you better."

"Darling. We only want the best for you and this is not what we had in mind. Please, do not hurt yourself for such an old man. Really? Could you not have found anyone else?" Her mother tried to soothe the pain.

Gab felt tears in her eyes, "No." She pulled her hand back from her mothers, "Cillian is the one. Whether you like it or not. I will continue to be with him-"

"No, you will not. I forbid you from seeing him. If I see you with him I will make sure he-"

"What will you do, huh, dad? You gonna punch him? Ruin your daughter's life just because you can't accept my decisions? You never accepted anything I did. I had to always do what you both wanted me to do. I never got to choose what I wanted. I'm twenty-five years old. I can decide what I do with my life, not you. Not anymore." Gabrijela stood up.

"Not under this roof you don't. I make the rules here, Gabrijela! I do, and you better fucking listen to me." Her father snapped which made her wince.

"Nikola! Don't swear-" Her mother tried to calm him down.

"Yeah? And if I don't? Huh? What are you gonna do, huh? You can't do shit to me, dad." Gabrijela now faced off with her father.

"You will not speak to me like that. I am the leader of this house and you are to follow them. I don't care if you are twenty-five. That does not matter to me. What matters is you living under this roof and you making an absolute fool of your life. You are wasting it! What will happen when he is sixty? Huh? Like me, old and wrinkly. Will you still sleep with him? Hm? Will you still kiss him and be with him when you are in your prime life?"

"You don't know me as well as you do, dad. I love him and I will love him to the end of my fucking life. You better accept it because I will not change anything to suit your wishes. My life dad. My problems." Gabrijela kept her ground. She would not be trampled on like this.

"Enough! Stop it. Gabrijela you are not listening to us. You-"

"Oh, I am listening quite clearly. That's all that I've been doing my whole damn life. I'll take in your considerations but I will not put them into motion. I love Cillian, I will be with him and you have no way of stopping me."

"Get the fuck out of my house then," Nikola said, nothing but rage and spite in his voice.

"Nikola, you will not kick out our daughter," Liljana said.

"Tata, don't do this." Leo seemed afraid and shocked now as how much this had escalated.

"Shut up. She can leave if she wants to do whatever she wants. I do not want to see it then. Pack your shit and get out." Nikola slammed his hands on the table which made everyone jump.

Gabrijela let her tears fall as she stared hard into her father's eyes. "I want to know one thing though," She whispered, "How did you find out?" Gab never posted anything online whatsoever. 

It was her mother who replied, "Lucia had told us this morning when Leo mentioned it to us. We did not believe him but when your friend-" 

"She is not my friend. I hate her. She is a scumbag. And so, what she tell you exactly huh? Come on, tell me." Gab urged. Her heart hurt. 

"She said that you were being taken advantage of some old man and seemed lost by his charms. We are worried that you might be but we can help you get out of it." Her mother said with pure worry. 

Gabrijela laughed with no emotion, "Wow." She said shaking her head with utter disbelief, "Just... Wow. So you would take her word rather than mine?" 

"It's not like that," Liljana said quickly. 

"It clearly is. She's lost her mind, mum. She is becoming obsessive over me. I am not her friend no longer. It truly hurts to know you took her word than listening to your daughter. Really shows what kind of person you are. I'm glad I'm being fucking kicked out." Gab turned and then ran upstairs to her room. She grabbed her suitcase and began to pack her clothes in. Then her duffle bag for more items as books, chargers and her laptop.

"Gabrijela, don't listen to him. Stay. Let us work this out." Her mother had come up to see her.

"No." Gab shook her head, unable to stop her tears or her sobs. "I'm going to leave. I don't need this shit in my life right now. I really don't and you standing there staring at me as if I am some fucking failure isn't helping either." Gabrijela looked at her.

"Swearing isn't nice," Liljana said, arms crossed.

"Nor is kicking out your daughter which you clearly support. It's cool. I'm glad I've been kicked out. Don't have to be fucking trapped in this shit hole." She shoved as much as she could. She was surprised she had taken well over half her wardrobe.

"Gabrijela-" Her mother started.

"Move." She sauntered past her and headed down the stairs. She grabbed last bits and pieces as well as her car keys and dumped her shit in.

"Gabrijela come on. Don't be like this." Her mother raced out after her.

"Don't try and make me feel bad. This is your fault. Not mine. I feel bad for Tijana living in this house. I hope Tatiana and Leo get out before they're corrupted by your bullshit." Gabrijela did not listen to any more accusations her mother threw at her and she drove off.

Gab drove into the city, messaged Maya that she was using the car spot for their apartment for unknown lengths of time. Maya mentioned they had hidden the key in the walled-off spot if she needed the apartment to herself. She thanked her but she wasn't going to use it. Just needed a place to leave her car without paying stupid fees.

She grabbed her shit out and dragged it to the main street and headed to the hotel where Cillian was staying. It was already dark and she wasn't a fan of walking the streets alone in the city but thankful the hotel was in view.

In the foyer, she sat on a couch and called up Cillian.

"Hey, love. How are you?" Cillian's voice made her instantly better.

"Not okay. I'm in the foyer. Can... You get me? Please?" She asked in a small voice.

"Of course. I'll be there in a moment." He hung up and some minutes went by and he was there walking to her. "What is all this?" He frowned before she ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. His arms automatically wrapped around her as he held her as she cried into his chest.

When the sobbing subsided, Cillian helped her up to his room with her suitcase and duffle bag. Then they laid back on the bed, her head on his chest and her explaining what had happened.

"God... I am sorry, Gabrijela. I really am. I can't believe they would treat you like this." Cillian was in total shock as to how she could be kicked out. Just for dating someone.

"It's fine. Not your fault. They just can't fathom their daughter dating someone who is twice her age. I really don't care about the age gap, Cillian. I'm just hurt that they couldn't see how I am in love and happy for a change. It's always been their way and no other way." Gab sniffled.

Cillian stroked her hair. He could see her parents point but to kick her out for her decision? Unacceptable. "Parents should always be there." He murmured more like a spoken thought.

"I wish they were, Cillian. God, I can't even imagine now to tell them of the pregnancy." She felt fear shoot through her. There was no way she was going to live in that house ever again.

"We'll do that together if you want." Cillian offered and she looked up.

"You want to?" She cupped his face.

"I'd love to. I want to be there for you and support you. I don't want you to be alone." He placed his hand over hers.

She smiled, "Okay... Well, I guess I'll wait until this cools down before we nail them with another shit storm."

"Not a shit storm. A miracle." He kissed her softly.

After that, she showered and put on a nice dress and he took her out for dinner at a restaurant he had found earlier that day. They ate good food and talked about baby things and when to tell his family as well. They would do it tomorrow morning and Gabbie was very excited. She loved his family to the moon and back.

They walked along the harbour, hand in hand. The night was warm but comfortable, they went to a bar for a bit then headed home to relax in bed and watch a movie together.

Gabrijela was only in her bra and panties as she fell asleep in his arms, despite the day being fucked, she was happy in her lover's arms. She was warm and safe and loved. That was what mattered to her. Cillian being with her.