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letstalkaboutfandomsbaby · 2 years

Note

If you do Toji, I beg for some toji chubby chaser headcanons. I'm STARVING here😥

*dusts off shoulders and rolls up sleeves* alrighty, let's get to work

Tbh i lowkey don't like Toji's personality but i tried my best to make some general headcanons for you babe 🤧💕

CW: chubby fem reader, smut, not beta read bc im just a lil worm and i dont do that skskksks

Ok let's one thing straight

Mans is the biggest chubby chaser on the planet sksksk

He loves some extra cushion to grab onto so if you're curvy/plump/fat/whatever you wanna call yourself, he is THERE, he's right next to you asking for your number sksksk

Like if you've got a curvy milf bod, he's already looming over you and callin you mommy which? um? Hello? Police??

No but he loves thicc girls with his whole heart

There's so much to squeeze and grab and you best believe he's pawing at every inch of you like he's about to fall off a ledge and he's holding on for dear life

You're gonna be COVERED in marks babe, im sorry if you have somewhere to be, your best bet is to just cover yourself up

He is absolutely RUTHLESS in bed good LORD

He's gonna beat your pussy up so bad that they'll need dental records to identify her

I'm talking slapping, biting, smacking, gripping you so hard you get BRUISES jesus christ dude, if you don't chill out imma have you arrested for domestic violence i swear—

He rarely has soft moments

He's probably a fuck buddy at most bc let's be honest this man is not built for a relationship

It's not you babe! He's just trash sksksk please do not let him be any more than that bc he is gonna leave and break your heart and come back three months later to fuck and raid your fridge alexa play aint shit by doja cat sksksk

But by all means, keep him around for a good time every now and then bc you deserve to get your back blown out 😌

ANYWAYS

He's v good in bed and he's cocky about it too

He's way too good for a crusty nobody like him 😤

He finds your clit v easily and just plays with you until you're begging for his dick

And even then he doesn't give you want you want, he's a MENACE

Wants that pretty chubby pussy to squirt all over him before he fucks your brains out

He's obsessed with watching his dick push past your plump lips and slip into that ushy gushy pussy that he loves oh so much

He's got one hand on your chub at all times

Could be titty, ass, love handle, belly: he's just gotta hold onto you while he rails that pretty pussy

Likes pressing down on your belly and saying "im right here, baby. Ya feel me?"

Fav position: mating press are yall really fuckin surprised sksksks

Cmonnnnn, just let him push your knees up to your shoulders

He just wants to see your chubby bits fold up, your pretty plump pussy soaked and twitching helplessly :(

He's not gonna use a condom, don't even try to convince him bc he refuses

He wants to stuff you so full of cum that he can't fit his cock inside anymore 🤧

He mayyyyyyyy have a breeding kink sksksk like he loves creampies, the baby's just an epilogue

Shit, you already look like a milf, might as well give ya a baby pls don't have a baby with this man, take your birth control

Stretch marks make him hard sksksk

He sees those sexy tiger stripes and he's ready to risk it all

Tosses you over his shoulder way too often sksksk

Like "ayyyyyy babayyy, wanna see how strong i am? Ayee, want me to hold you up while we fuck? No? Too bad"

He's annoying and selfish most of the time but he's actually a pretty decent cook and makes you something most of the time before he dips

He acts like he doesn't care most of the time, but he still makes sure that you're alright after yall have sex

He'll pick you up if you're too weak to walk and keep you steady in the shower may or may not go another round if you're able to stand on your own

Usually jumps ship when yall are done fuckin, but over time he starts sleeping over, holding onto you tightly for at least a couple hours

He starts coming over to your place not just for sex, but to rest and recuperate, bringing along takeout and some drinks

He even invited you to the races (you said no bc who wants to go watch their fuck buddy lose all their money betting on horses?) which was weird bc he's never invited you anywhere before

He's protective of you too, always questioning who you're texting, mumbling something about how you shouldn't get involved with random guys bc they could be dangerous

You always brushed his actions off as normal "aLpHa MaLe" behavior, but you started questioning his intentions when he started grunting strange phrases during sex

"Look at you, so sweet and precious for me, my good girl"

"You love my dick, dontcha? Best dick you ever had, right? You don't need nobody else when I make you feel this good"

"Fuck, love this hot fat cunt. It's all mine, all mine."

"God, I love your body, you're so fucking good fer me. Fuck, I love you"

You never brought it up afterwards, pretending like you didn't hear anything he said or just didn't care

He's not a perfect man: he's reckless and cruel and selfish, but maybe if he grows up a bit and realigns his morals, you might join him to one of those lil races he's so fond of

#ask #toji fushiguro #smut #chubby reader #fem reader #toji fushiguro x reader #i am SOOOOOO sorry #i put this in my drafts and totally forgot about it sksksk #ik this isn't like all my other asks and i apologize #i just hate toji's personality sksksksk #but i hope this satiates your hunger a bit sksksk #☀️ fics #☀️ asks

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mai-sau · 3 years

Note

Prompt "give me attention" for kidnap family?

"haha, im gonna take it easy with prompts this time around, only a few hundred words -" cue spongebob title card "2.3k words later"

seriously tho thank you for the prompt!! (and sorry about the wait!) i had fun working on this one bc well i love any chance to write about this lil family of murderers and tiny bois :') hope u enjoy!!

Prompt: "Give me attention."

“Nelyo.”

“Ne-”

Thump. Maedhros slammed his book shut. A puff of dust wheezed out from the crusty pages; Maglor could make out the swirl of particles flying about in the dim shafts of sunlight peeking into his brother’s study from windows that he was sure were clean at some point in their existence.

Said brother tossed a glare over to Maglor from the other side of his desk.

“You’re allowed to be here. Quietly.” Maedhros threw a pointed look towards the abandoned scroll in Maglor’s hands.

“But I’m so very lonely, Nelyo,” Maglor pouted, and dropped the scroll on the desk. The parchment rolled out towards Maedhros, whose face was fast approaching the same shade as his hair. “Besides, I’ve already taken care of all my correspondence for the day. Nothing much else to do, really, but seek out the company of my darling brother.”

“I’m older than you,” Maedhros grit out, rubbing his temple in terse little circles. Which one of them he was reminding Maglor couldn’t say.

“Only by a few years,” Maglor teased. He let the corners of his lip curl up - he was well aware this made him look like “a cat about to feast on the fattest saucer of milk it’s ever conned” according to his brother, and that was why he did it.

On top of that dusty old book, Maedhros’ fingers twitched. Got you.

“Come on, Nelyo,” he whined. “Give me attentiooon.”

Maedhros threw him a positively hateful look, but Maglor knew he wouldn’t throw him out just yet. By this point, Maglor liked to think he knew his brother well enough.

There were some things he didn’t, of course, and this was fine. When his brother would wake and traipse out to the courtyard in the dead of night, staring at the moon hungrily for hours and hours as if he would never glimpse its light amidst the pitch dark again; when one of the many elves around Amon Ereb would do something wrong - not when one of their craftsmen made the same excited little exclamation as Curvo used to, or hunters fletched their arrows just how Tyelko did, Maglor understood these, at least - but a request phrased too sweetly, an abrupt movement, a smile too wide, and Maedhros’ throat would tighten, his words clipped, before excusing himself to go lock himself in his room for an hour, or two, or three: these parts of his brother Maglor may never know.

But he knew much, or at least enough. A few months after they’d taken in the twins, Maglor had just finished mopping an explosion of jam on the dining floor and sweeping up the shards of what was once the hefty jar that contained it. He’d first gently let Elros know that if they wanted food, they need only ask; he’d then let him know that no, of course they wouldn’t cast him out for breaking the jam jar, with no small amount of tears or internal panic on either end of that conversation.

By the time Maglor slunk into Maedhros’ study that evening to go over reports from around the fortress, he was maybe a bit tired. When Maedhros told him to wait for just a few minutes while he wrapped something or other up, Maglor might’ve let slip a touch of petulance and no small amount of theatrics into his voice when he asked when his dear Nelyo could spare just a moment for his poor baby brother, simply wilting away from the neglect.

Maglor had frozen, fearful of what his second-most severe brother would have to say in response to - well, whining. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d let himself do so. Oh, he’d been quite the brat in Valinor, and used to be quite proud of that fact, thank you. Each and every one of his brothers’ last nerves practically had his name on it. But it seemed ever since they arrived here, it was as if they simply couldn’t afford the waste of time. Ribbing was a favored pastime of his in Aman, but Beleriand offered no such frivolities.

But living with the twins, putting on playful words and coaxing laughter from two young faces that Maglor couldn’t bear to see two seconds from breaking anymore, had apparently loosened his discipline.

He’d thought Maedhros would treat him to one of his signature frowns, barking at him that neither of them had time to make things any harder for each other, but instead he’d… laughed. Just the slightest huff of air, yes, but a laugh nonetheless. Maglor hadn’t heard his brother laugh since…

Well, if anything, he was honoring his cousin’s memory.

So Maglor experimented over the years, let a few more teases and whines slip into his day-to-day interactions with Maedhros. His brother had since mustered a valiant effort to act annoyed, but Maglor could still catch a muffled chuckle or smothered grin here and there.

So. All in all, he’s sure he knows his brother pretty well at this point, and Maedhros was not troubled (bad), just bothered (good).

Which, of course, meant they could continue to play; Maglor would show no mercy.

“Please? Please, please? Just a smidgen of tender love and care from my dearly beloved big brother?” Maglor asked, eyes wide and pleading, hands clasped in front of him as he leaned over the desk. His hair, inky black, spilled all over his scroll.

Maedhros’ nose twitched. His right ear flicked. Oh yes. He was close to a chuckle now, he could tell. His dearly beloved big brother stood no fucking chance.

“Oh dear Eru, let my brother pay attention to - MANWË’S TITS!” Maglor shrieked, springing up from his seat after spotting a dark shadow peeking through the window.

His brother whirled around. Quick as a viper, his hand darted out to grasp the hilt of his sword. Despite this, Maglor could hear a choked noise he was more than halfway certain was the chuckle he had so desperately hunted. Oh well.

A chubby face stared right back at them, eyes round as saucers. Wait, make that two faces.

Both Maglor and Maedhros sagged with relief.

“Elros, can you please come in?” Maglor croaked, feeling five feet to the left of his physical body. “You too, Elrond.”

The two of them nodded bashfully, heads bobbing as they fumbled over to the glass. And they were… flapping. Each twin sported small brown wings on their back, looking much like the falcons Tyelko used to play with as a child. Maglor supposed, thinking of a great bird soaring away over the sea with light itself clutched tight in its talons, maybe they should have expected this one in particular.

Elros pushed once, twice at the windows, tiny arms straining against the pane and looking more panicked by the second. Behind him, Elrond simply pointed to the - oh, the window latch. Yes.

Maedhros stood up and flicked it open. Elros came tumbling through, nearly bashing his skull on the desk before Maedhros caught him midair.

Elrond flew in smoothly and landed on Maglor’s empty chair, wings neatly folding in. Maedhros dumped Elros on his own chair. His wing smacked Maedhros’ arm by mistake.

“We talked about this. No new shapeshifting without me or Maglor there,” Maedhros said, fixing each of them with a stern look.

Both the twins looked down at this. Elrond wrung his little wrists.

“We’re sorry!” Elros burst out, tears welling up in his eyes. “We won’t do it again, promise!”

“That’s what you said last time, sweetheart,” Maglor told him.

“And the time before that,” Maedhros grumbled.

“What we’re saying, dear, is that we understand that you’re sorry. But keeping your word has to take first priority,” Maglor explained softly.

Maedhros coughed.

“Or, er, not doing it again,” Maglor corrected. “That’s what counts.”

“We understand,” Elros sniffled. “It’s just, we wanted to hear, but you weren’t there to check with, because well, you were here, and, well, um, yes -”

“Bringing us to the next point of order,” Maedhros rumbled. He raised a brow at both of them. “Eavesdropping. We have also been over this.”

Oh dear. Elros looked like he was about to drown in a puddle of tears. Maglor rubbed a hand between his shoulder blades soothingly, careful of the new feathery appendages.

Thankfully, Elrond stepped in. “We remember, it’s not nice because we like to be in private sometimes and it’s not fair for us to not let other people be too,” he recited shyly. “Um, we just… we know you both meet up a lot like this, and we know it's important… but… um…” His lip trembled; his voice cracked. “Do you... talk about us? Do you not want us to hear because it’s bad? Because we can do better!” He promised quickly, eyes wide and wet. “Elros is getting really good at his music lessons, he’s practicing a lot! And I’m working on my writing lessons every day!”

Something in Maglor’s chest twisted. “Oh, honey, no -”

But his brother beat him to the punch. Striding out from behind the desk, he knelt down in front of Elrond. “Can I hug you?” he asked very quietly.

Elrond bit his lip and nodded. Without another word, Maedhros wrapped him up in his arms.

They stayed like that for a moment, Maedhros’ hulking frame wrapped around Elrond’s body, like a drape of russet locks, leather and rich furs. When his brother finally pulled away, he gave a heavy look to both children.

“We will never give you away because you’re not good enough. Alright? You will always be good enough. Both of you,” he told them. He reached out and covered Elrond’s tiny hand with his own, fingers curling around and intertwining. “And not because you’re caught up on your lessons, or do what we say.”

“Though those are certainly nice,” Maglor added. He flashed them a teasing grin before taking care to soften his expression once more, and laid a gentle hand on Elros’ shoulder. “You will always have our love. And nothing, not even the worst jam spill, or missed harp lesson - don’t think I didn’t notice that last week, dearest - can ever reach in and steal it. It is your’s by blood and birthright.”

“Love you,” Elros sniffled. Elrond echoed him, voice no less wobbly.

Maedhros gifted them with a small smile. “Love you both, starlights.”

“And -” Elros started, hiccuped, and continued. “And same for me too. Nothing can change that! I’ll always love you two.”

Maglor felt a pang of sickly guilt invade his chest and looked away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maedhros stiffen.

“Me too,” Elrond said, voice suddenly clear. Maglor glanced at him and met a gaze that seemed years ahead of its time; he froze, rooted to the spot. “We’ll always love you no matter what you do.”

“Well -” Maglor started. “That’s…”

“No need to worry about us,” Maedhros recovered quickly, waving his hand. “Now then, it’s nearing bedtime, hm?”

“But wait!” Elros cried. “What were you two talking about then?”

“Yes! We saw Atya going like this,” Elrond clasped his pudgy hands together and shook them. “And his voice sounded all funny, and then he prayed to Eru about Atar paying more attention to Manwe’s t-”

“ALRIGHT!” Maglor yelped, clapping his hands. His face must’ve been steaming, his cheeks were burning, oh stars - “Bedtime!”

“But we want to know why you were saying all those funny things,” Elros complained loudly. His voice slipped into a high pitched whine, dripping with petulance. “Nelyo, Nelyo, give me attentioooon -”

“I do not sound like that!” Maglor gasped, scooping up a giggling Elrond to be carried to bed.

“I do not sound like that!”

Maglor turned around, gaping. That was not Elros’ voice.

Maedhros stared back. His eyes glinted with mirth and the most shit-eating grin curled his lips. In his arms was a starstruck Elros, who looked no less shocked than if the clouds themselves had just burst into song and danced a lively jig. And quite frankly, Maglor would be less surprised.

Maedhros dealt him one last smirk before twirling on his heel and walking out of the room to go deposit one elfling in his bed. Maglor still had the other, who poked his cheek.

“Atya? Are you okay?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Maglor felt a smile grow across his face. His eyes stung with tears. He quickly wiped them with his sleeve before they could fatten and spill over his cheeks and probably make Elrond worry even more.

“Wonderful, dear.” He frowned for a second, considering. “Although I think there is a dreadful amount of mockery in my future.”

He looked down at Elrond. His son merely tilted his round head, offering a blank look. Maglor sighed happily. “But that’s okay.”

XXX

In time, it became clear that there was no need to worry about the looming threat of brotherly teasing paid back in full; Maedhros may have been looser with his laughter, but even this was a rare occasion still. Maglor did not mind, for any time he saw his brother’s eyes alight with anything other than fatal passion was a gift.

The true threat that lurked within Amon Ereb made itself known eventually.

Two weeks later, Maglor was scurrying to meet up with one of the smiths to discuss pending repairs but stopped short in front of a small figure in the courtyard blocking his path.

“Not now, sweetheart, Atya’s very busy,” Maglor told Elrond, harried, ready to flag down someone on the way to attend to whatever his son needed.

And then it happened. Elrond’s face crumpled just so. His eyes widened: big, round, and wet. His lip wobbled. When he opened his mouth, his voice took on a tone so absolutely, horribly pitiful that Maglor half-suspected the echo of Lúthien herself lived in his words.

“Please, Atya,” he begged, every word a death sentence. “Give me attentiooon.”

Oh Eru, Maglor despaired, even as he opened his arms for an evil little elfling to leap into, repairs forgotten. I’ve made a monster.

#this was also my first go at writing more humor #but the hurt/comfort managed to sneak in #kidnap dads #kidnap fam #maedhros #maglor #elrond #elros #my writing #writing prompts #fic #jaz-the-bard

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squidlyskeet · 3 years

Text

Joy Ride -.002

Pairing: StreetRacer!Bakugou x Fem!reader

Genre: TokyoDrift!au, Noquirks!au

Status: Ongoing

TW: violence, blood, firearms, eventual nsfw, 18+, mentions of anxiety and OCD disorders, grand theft auto, gang activity.

Summary:

It started with a simple question, “what do you say Y/n? You coming?”

After the sudden death of her mother, Y/n is sent to live with her estranged aunt halfway across the world in Tokyo, Japan. Weary of what this new adventure might hold for her, she decides to let loose the first night she was there, but how was Y/n supposed to know it would lead to a car chase? A car chase in the the passenger seat of a very angry, very hot, street racer’s super car?

A/n: yall im still so frickin bad at summaries😭😭😭 word. ✌🏻-squidlyskeet.

═══☩══♛══☩═══

I have no idea what I was expecting when we finally made it to where we were headed for the ‘meet’. Whatever it was though, It absolutely was not this. When we finally made it to the huge parking garage about an hour out of Tokyo it was difficult for Mirio to move his whole squad through the crowd. He pointed out that every side of the huge square space was where the designated side riders were parked. Naturally we pulled up and backed into the space next to the east wall. Mirio’s car parked in the middle and the rest of the squad parked on either side of him.

Right now I was standing next to Noel, while she patiently waited for Mirio’s attention. He was greeting his friends, or squad, as he called them while we were pulling in. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea after all.

There were so many people of every kind, predominantly Japanese but others as well. Men and women parked in the middle of the garage lined up with their hoods open and showing off their engines. Young girls maybe even the same age as me, wearing tiny little outfits and throwing themselves on drivers. Music low and thumping pumped into the open night air.

I did notice that not all sides were here yet, but the ones that were were just as impressive as Mirio’s squad. In fact the only squad that hasn’t shown yet was the west side, as no cars lined the walls on the other side of the building.

My mood was tense, the light atmosphere of having fun leaving me almost instantly when I got out of the car. I could Noel was picking up on it too.

“Come on, lemme introduce you to the squad.” She grabbed my arm again, dragging a circle of people standing in front of their cars.

“Hey guys! This is Y/n, she’s my niece and she just moved here from the US. She doesn’t know Japanese, so try to be easy on her okay?” Her mischievous smile playing at a self introduction as she turned to me.

“Uh- Hi,” I waved awkwardly, “I’m Y/n.”

I didn’t know what to say, and I was mentally beating myself up for being so weird. Especially now that I was getting a good look at everyone and realized that Mirio wasn’t the only walking god.

These people were obnoxiously gorgeous.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here, Hmm?” A deep raspy voice cut my focus to a tall lanky man with bright red hair and the bluest eyes I've ever seen. “You seem to be a little lost princess, I could show you around if you’d like.”

I instantly recoiled at the blatant insinuation, heat spreading across my neck. Another voice interjected before I had a chance to reply.

“Dabi for fucks sake, leave the kid alone. Hi Y/n,” This man was short, comically short compared to the six something beanpole standing next to him. “I’m Keigo Takami, and this asshat is Touya Todoroki, Dabi for short.” He ran his hands through his wavy blonde hair, before bowing low and rising with a wink in my direction.

The heat in my neck spread to my face, and I avoided eye contact. The wall seemed extremely interesting.

“Don’t listen to either of them Y/n, this is a tactic they use to pick up women.” A woman with powder blue hair stood off the side checking her nails with a fist on her hip. “Nejire.” Was all she said in any way of introduction.

Her nonchalant attitude put me off even further, but I was quickly distracted when I felt another presence slink up beside me.

“They don’t know how to interact correctly. Sorry about that. Amajiki. It’s nice to meet you.” He pushed his hand forward in a jerky movement, offering a handshake, eyes directed at the wall.

I placed his face as the man who was riding most of the way with us and I could feel the excitement bubble back up when I remembered how skilled he was at driving. I felt my anxious shell break before I could get it under wraps.

“Oh my god, Amajiki, you were so cool out there. I couldn’t believe how well you handled your car. When we were drifting onto the highway you were so close. I’ve never done anything like that before, and you just made it look so easy-” I didn’t notice until then how red his face was getting, and instantly felt bad. He dropped his unshook hand and backed up a few paces before turning to face the wall.

What..?

“T-t-thanks Y-y/n,” He said.

“Hey now, don’t get worked up over something like that Jiki, she thinks you're good!” Mirio yelled over to the nervous boy facing the wall. He walked over to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, Noel’s hand latched in his other.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you nervous Amaj-”

“Please, I j-just need a m-m-minute.” He stuttered before I could finish my apology.

Mirio giggled, and the sound shocked me, to watch a full grown titan giggle was wild. At least he wasn’t in a bad mood anymore.

“Anyways, Y/n we’ll make this quick cause I want a drink. That crusty weirdo over there is Tenko Shimura, Shiggy for short, and his little sister Toga. Over there is Kamui, he’s a good friend even if he has the emotional maturity of a wet sock. Over there,” Mirio pointed toward the north wall, “Is the North Side Riders. A guy named Monoma leads them and honestly, they really aren’t much of a threat. On and off the pavement.

Down there, is the South Side Riders. Ten out of ten do not recommend. Just like avoid the south wall at all costs please. In case we lose you. And oh yeah, over ther- Hmm? Where are those westies? I think out of all them you’d get along with them the best. Bakug-” He started saying a name but stopped when he leaned backwards to look at the entrance of the parking deck.

The noise in the giant concrete balcony quieted to a low murmur. Music was shut off, and surprisingly people were getting out of the way. Trying to squeeze next to the walls as far as they could get. Well every wall with the exception of the west wall.

Mirios squad all migrated to the spaces in between their cars, but Mirio looked as if he refused to budge from the spot leaning against his front bumper with Noel still tucked into his side.

I looked back at his squad and then back to where my aunt stood with her boyfriend. I wanted a front row seat to whatever was about to happen too and, with as much confidence as I could muster, I walked up and stood next to Noel. I looked around nervously, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Tch. Westies. Always on some dramatic entrance bullshit.” The beanpole muttered from beside what I presumed was his car. A black hatchback, with blue flame decals.

The silence on the roof of the parking garage was deafening now, and a ripple of anticipation rolled through the crowd.

Just when I thought I couldn’t wait any longer, sounds I was quickly becoming familiar with sounded off in the distance. Motors, wide open and bouncing of rev limiters causing a chatter of turbo whistles. Screeching tires, and the low thump of a deep bass blaring out of a subwoofer system.

I could make out that they’ve made it to the garage and started their accent up the spiral entrance, the sounds mixing together and sending a thrill through my body as the anticipation of seeing the display.

The sound of the music was becoming more clear and as it got closer, I was shocked to find out that again it was english, and that I knew it. Was that..?

Here comes the Boom? By Nelly?

Whatever system they were using was loud enough to compete with a concert, cause it drowned out the sounds of the cars drifting to the top of the building. I tried to guess when one of the cars would pop up over the small bump at the top but I was wrong with every timing.

I looked at Noel in confusion, but she was paying attention to the entrance intently too.

The music cut off, until-

BOOM.

The first car practically launched itself over the bump. It hit the ground front bumper first, creating a light show of sparks. When the tail end hit the ground, the driver didn’t waste any time, they hit the Ebrake and swung the rear bumper sideways before stomping on it and accelerating again. I noticed the cars color, a deep burnt orange. It was sleek, made for speed and the driver -as far as I could tell- knew exactly how to handle it. The windows in the car were down but I couldn’t get a good look at the driver while they were gliding their car through the makeshift aisles of cars.

BOOM.

The second car launched itself over the bump, this car smaller and red but just as nice. They took the first cars movements, synchronizing perfectly, and mimicking the maneuvers with accuracy. More cars came out of the bump and played follow the leader but my eyes were glued to the orange car in the front.

When the car finally rounded the corner Closest to our designated wall, they revved the engine and shot forward, gaining speed and everyone’s attention. Somehow, I feel like they did that on purpose.

Halfway through they changed tactics again, stomping on the brakes and threw the car into a full one eighty, never stopping. They accelerated backwards with their driver side window facing us speakers blaring.

For me, it was like time stopped all together as the driver finally came into view.

A spiked mess of pale blonde hair came into focus first, and broad shoulders holding up a thick muscled neck. The next glimpse I got was of his face. A chill shot through me, when I made eye contact and noticed he was staring directly back at me.

Ruby red eyes narrowed in obvious disdain, and a sneer twisting his face, he never broke the hold. It felt like he was burning holes into my head with his clearly disapproving expression. And while it was only a few seconds, it felt like I was standing there, under the scrutiny of his glare for a lifetime.

When he was finally too far away to keep the eye contact, I dropped my line of vision to the concrete under my feet. How could someone just outright glare at another person they didn’t even know? Did he hate me? No that’s probably not right. He doesn’t even know me, for all he knows I’m just another inconsequential girl here.

I argued with myself in my head, debating on whether I should just give up on this night entirely and call a taxi or wait and see if tonight gets any better. It was so fun on the way here, the laughing and the drifting lifting my mood to a height it hadn’t been at for months. I was peeved to find out that all it took to deflate my mood was one insignificant glare from a boy I didn’t know. All I wanted to do was retreat back to the safety of Mirios car, where I had fun and could breathe easily.

“Y/n you okay?” Noel broke me from the spell I was under, and placed a hand on my arm. “Hey, don’t let Bakugou bother you. He is like that with everyone.” She said as she smiled at me.

“Bakugou?” Finally lifting my gaze from the ground to let her know I appreciated her attempt at comfort.

“That’s his name, the guy in the orange car. He’s the squad leader of the Westies and he by far is the biggest dick I’ve ever met.” She answered, gently rubbing circles on my arm.

“Did something happen Y/n? I swear I’ll go drag his bulky ass out of that car right now.” Mirio popped his head into our comfort bubble and smiled. I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, so I just shook my head and kept my answer vague.

“Nothing that constitutes a fight, hah thanks though Mirio.” I replied, hoping to evade him getting into ‘one of his moods’ as Noel described it.

“Good good. Well if we are done standing around, I’m gonna go get a drink before the races start,” He pulled his phone from his pocket to check the time, and turned his attention to Noel. “Ten minutes to go baby, make sure you’re strapped in and ready to beat these amateurs, we’re in the first round.” He leaned down to give her a kiss, and turned to go find something to drink, looking at the cars on display on the way.

I turned to look back at Noel, that soft look on her face again as her eyes followed his retreating figure.

“You really love him don’t you?” The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I felt my cheeks flush at my directness.

“I do, I want to spend the rest of my life with him,” She sighed happily before shaking her head and clearing her throat. “Anyways though, not all of the East boys are going to be racing the first round, so try to stay with them, okay? I think only Keigo and Dabi will be sitting it out. Make sure you tell me if they give you any trouble.”

“Wait, you're going to race with Mirio?” I asked, shocked.

Isn’t that dangerous?

“Well of course honey, I’m his navigator duh? Look,” She turned around to point at the passenger seat inside his car.

My eyebrows lifted in surprise to see that there on the bucket seat headrest, in fancy swirled English letters, was Noel’s name.

“What’s a navigator?” I was curious now, and I wanted to get the question out before my brain told me to shut up and that nobody cared.

Her eyes lit up when she heard my question, her hands clapped together and she grabbed me by the arm once again dragging me further into the mess of cars and people. I tried to relax my limbs, but I could only feel them tense. She was pulling me further away from our wall and further away from the comfort of Mirios car. I knew that, rationally, I had no right to feel like Mirio’s car was a comfort. I couldn’t help myself from latching onto things that brought me out of my anxious shell. It was a habit I knew was bad for me, because everything leaves eventually, but I’d still like to squeeze as much of the feeling out of anything I could.

It made me wonder if it was Mirios car specifically or if it was any car that could be handled like his. The last thing I needed was for Noel to get mad at me, thinking I was trying to make a move on her man, when in reality it was just his car. Or more accurately, the escape it could provide me.

Noel stopped me in front of a car that looked a little out of place around all these over the top machines surrounding it. I actually recognized this make and model as it was from the US. A Ford Taurus. A two thousand and one if I’m right. It was tan and had a few dents, but still looked drivable.

The trunk was open and inside it lay a few piles of different things. One pile were maps, all folded the same way with handwriting on them. The next item was a scanner of some sort, I put two and two together to realize this probably wasn’t the most legal of events, and if Japan was anything like the US then those were most likely police scanners. The third item, were stacks of boxes, all of them had an image of a plastic gun on them.

I watched as Noel took one of each.

“What the hell? A gun?” It seemed the shock value was a never ending escalation for me tonight.

“Let me start by explaining that a Navigator is exactly what it sounds like. I ride shotgun for Mirio while he races. I have the map to tell him where to go, and potentially make last second changes to our route. The police scanner is for knowing where they are before we are on top of them, and the gun. Well the gun for when you cross the finish line,” She held up the box, as if that would make it clearer as to why she needed it. “You put your driver's color in it, and the Navigator shoots it off when they cross the finish line. We won’t be able to see anything, but the spectators will be keeping track from on top of the parking deck. That’s how they tell who won.”

“That sounds like a really important job. Do you do it often?” I felt like I was finally starting to get a read on this. This was street racing.

We lingered around the Navigator car, talking quietly. I occasionally glanced at the people coming and going from the trunk, noticing mostly women but some men.

“Normally a Navigators job is really important. When they actually do their job. A lot of these girls have romanticized it to the point of competing to see who gets the coveted passenger seat of one of the better drivers. Most don’t even grab the stuff they need. They just flail around, and take credit.” She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “I don’t think some of these brats realize, the reason some of the drivers win as much as they do is because they have good Navigators.”

“I’m sure you’re great at it, I’ll be watching for you guys when it’s time to-“ My voice cut off and I jumped when I heard a loud gong.

“Ladies and scumbags, five minutes to first line up!” A voice blasted through a set of speakers, and the crowd began dispersing.

“Oh shit, that’s my cue. Gotta go get strapped in. Don’t take drinks from anyone, and don’t wander too close to the south wall. Be safe, and cheer for us!” Her voice drifted as she ran back to Mirios bright yellow car.

I felt my body tense again at being by myself, I tried to make my body move but working up the courage to walk anywhere and have people notice me kept my feet planted in place. I knew that the thought was stupid and redundant because standing here by myself while the cars needed to get out down the ramp would bring way more attention to me than anything else.

Alright deep breaths, one, two, thre-

“Hey, are you okay?” A sweet feminine voice said from behind me.

“U-uh sorry, I don’t understand Japanese.” I shot back without turning around.

A genuine laugh sounded off from behind me, and without forcing myself I felt my muscles relax at the gesture.

Before I could think too much about it, I held my breath and turned around.

“Hello, I’m Ochako Uraraka. And you look like maybe you need a bottle of water.” The tiny girl waved at me with a friendly smile.

Oh my god she’s adorable.

She couldn’t be any more than five feet tall and her angular brunette bob complimented her round baby face. Her outfit is similar to mine, with a cropped t-shirt and high rise shorts.

“Sorry, about just standing here like an idiot. I’m a little l-lost.” I decided feigning like I didn’t know where to go was better than admitting I was frozen in anxiety.

“That’s okay, who are you here with? I can help you try to find them. I know almost everyone here, and I’m sure my boyfriend wouldn’t mind me helping, we don’t race until the second round anyways.”

I debated on telling her. What if she was like some kind of bait to be kidnapped. I quickly decided against it, she seemed too sweet. Besides, she's already offered me a bottle of water, and to help me look for Mirios' squad. I knew in which general direction they were and could probably find them myself but I didn’t want to be alone.

“I’m with the East boys.” I said, hoping she’d keep the conversation going.

“Oh Mirios squad?” Her voice rose an octave with her revelation. “Oh my gosh, I’ve never seen you with them before. Are you new? Who did you come with? Please don’t tell me it was that toaster oven Touya…”

She rambled on while I tried to hold in a laugh at her quip. Toaster oven Touya? Looks like beanpole has a new name.

“No I’m with Noel and Mirio, I’m her niece.Y/n L/n. I just moved to Japan.” I replied, hoping that would cover her rapid fire questions about where I’m from.

“You’re a part of the squad? Do you want to meet mine? Sometimes we team up on jobs from the south side and it might be helpful to know we finally have another girl,” She leaned into me and whispered like someone would overhear us. “We are outnumbered by like, a lot.” She was laughing as she leaned back and turned to grab things out of the Navigator car.

I noted her comment about jobs from the south side, and filed that away too. Man, Noel list of questions is adding up quickly.

So she’s a navigator too, probably a half decent one since she was actually using the equipment provided.

When she finished she motioned for me to follow her, and like the lost puppy I was, I did exactly that. I realized we were headed in the opposite direction of my designated wall, and felt my stomach clench. Isn’t this the way that angry guy parked? I really hope she’s just making a detour and she isn’t a part of the west side.

When she didn’t stop walking though, that fantasy went directly out the window. My last option was to hope he wasn’t here or was distracted by something.

“Hey guys! This is y/n, I found her over by the Nav beater. The East side Riders have a new member, can you believe that?” She jumped into her explanation, catching the attention of a group of people leaning against their cars.

“A new member?” Said a red head with hair spiked to the gods looking up from his phone. They looked sharp, but upon further inspection not nearly as sharp as the man's teeth. He was leaning on the hood of a red and black car, and his non threatening position put me at ease a little.

He was built like a brick shithouse. Towering over everyone else in the group, and If it weren’t for his gentle voice, I’d probably be running for the hills.

“That’s Ejiirou Kirishima. Complete himbo and about as smart as a bag of hammers, but he has a heart of gold.” The man waved from his place, perched atop his car, and a heartwarming smile on his face.

“Call me Kiri.” Was all he said before he returned to his screen.

“Sweetheart why are you speaking English, you know I don’t catch on to it that easy.” A deep Japanese voice called out from under a green hatchback.

“Because Deku, y/n doesn’t speak Japanese.” Ochako said from beside me.

“What?” A tuft of fluffy green hair popped up from behind the car, standing probably a foot and a half taller than it. I jumped backwards at the height even though he was on the other side of the car.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m Izuku Midoryia, but you can just call me Deku.” He said before looking at Ochako, his face squished up, and looking for approval.

She nodded at him with a sweet smile on her face.

“That’s my boyfriend, don’t take him too seriously. He just doesn’t know what’s going on most of the time.” She leaned over to tell me the second part, and then pointed behind two cars parked obnoxiously close to one another.

A laugh burst out of my mouth as my eyes followed what she was pointing at. Behind the cars, laid two lawn chairs. One huge umbrella hanging over top of them and two men sitting in each one. Both looked like they were sucking down a yellow slushie.

“That’s Denki and Shinsou. They are best friends and are doing their pre race routine of getting mildly shitfaced. Denki is a Shinsous Navigator and they claim it helps them get in the game. Uhg. You’d think they’d learn but they never do.” She paused to go to the passenger door of Deku’s hunter green hatchback and pull something out from the dash.

As she leaned down, through the windshield, I could see another example of a stitching in the headrest. But this one was in Japanese. I assumed it had something to do with Ochako but didn’t want to press and look stupid for asking questions.

When she walked to stand back next to me she handed me a water bottle and I thanked her with a small voice.

“Shoto, Jirou, and Sero are getting ready to race the first round,and they have Mina with them so they aren’t here right now or else I’d introduce them as well, and I’m not really sure where Bakug-.”

“Oi. What the hell is this.” A deep gravelly voice gritted out from behind us.

For some reason I felt like-

Oh shit.

___________________________________________________

-.002 💥MASTERLIST💥 -.003

A/n: Keep in minds, this is U N E D I T E D. Word✌🏻 -squidlyskeet

#my hero academia #mha #this took a lot longer than i thought it would #uhgggg #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #someone love me #i love him #bnha fluff #bnha au #tokyo drift #bnha angst #mha smut

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finn-ray-nal-beads · 3 years

Note

Second idea, but feel free to ignore!

Captain Blowhole in action mode, kicking ass and taking names, to res use his favorite philly.

@safarigirlsp I HAVE HAD THIS SITTING IN MY BRAIN FOR EVER AND IM SO SORRY I’M FINALLY ANSWERING THIS NOW, BUT I WANTED TO MAKE IT WORTH THE READING AND ADVENTURE THAT YOU DESIRE BITCH! 🖤

ALLOW ME TO TELL A WHALE OF A TALE MY SWEET SIREN...

He knew he’d fucked up. Knew he shouldn’t have been so greedy with his booty, and his other booty, so to speak. Following the undead buccaneer crew to the depths of the Isla De Muerta, in search of gold and glory, and all for what? For you to be captured by the undead crew? Doomed to be touched by Barbosa himself?

The thought of his skeleton fingers encapsulating your precious throat, nigh, his precious throat, made his stomach churn with anger and remorse.

He stared into the abyss of the fog ridden ocean, squinting as the Black Pearl came into his view. A devilish grin falling over his face as he patted the large chest sitting by the captain’s wheel, the cursed treasure sitting at his waist as he conjured up negotiations for your freedom.

He bit the skin on his nails, thinking of clever ways to bargain with the dead, who were long past their time to be able to touch you, to smell you, to do what they willed. The thoughts of how illy you were being kept rattled around in his head, making him seethe more and more as the black sails grew closer to his vision. The billowing blackness of the clouds surrounding the cursed ship, the holes in the sails, and the undeniable black flag that whistled in the bustling breeze.

His first mate came to his side, patting his shoulder as he tensed from the touch, handing him a flask of rum as he spoke, “do ya think she’s okay?” he questioned, concerned for your welfare as his buddy bit at his stupidity.

“I sure as fuck hope so,” he grunted, swilling a drink of liquid courage, “I’ll kill every motherfucker on there if she isn’t,” exhaling as the warmth coated his throat, wiping the drippage from his beard as he handed the bottle back to Ron.

“She’s probably not too happy with ya right now, Z,” he commented, giggling as he took a swig again, placing a hand on the wheel to aim the ship starboard for the attack.

Flip smirked, huffing a deep laugh as he contemplated the words, “you’re probably right on that account, buddy,” clapping his back as he glanced back down at the stone chest, “but I have ta make it right either damn way,” he growled, placing hands on his hips as he gazed towards Ron.

“Plus,” he placed a hand over his mouth, chuckling at his own dirtiness, “I kinda like it when she’s mad... It... does things to me,” shuttering as he thought of your claws pawing his pristine back muscles, hearing your pained cries underneath him in a round of hate-fucking that was destined to ensue when you both were reunited.

Just then, the anchor lowered, placing the Roger side by side with the Pearl as the canons were shuttered open from both camps.

“Well, well, well,” a booming voice called out, “look who finally decided to show up, gentleman?” a chorus of laughter coming from the black shrouds on the enemy side.

“We don’t want this to be a fight, Barbosa,” Flip shouted back, his voice looming over the waves and the wind as he noticed the captain come into view, “I brought a trade opportunity for you, in fact,” leaning on the case like a sleazy salesman.

“A trade you say?” the dirty seaman rubbed his festering beard, yellowed eyes boring in Flip’s direction, “a trade for what, blowhole?!” bellows of heavy chuckles ringing out again at his insult, causing Flip to roll his eyes, wishing he was blowing his hole in your cunt instead of negotiating with the dead.

“You know exactly what I want, Hector,” the shocking reveal of his first name sending the enemy captain in a furied frenzy, “show her to me you snake!” Flip growled over the tidal waves brewing around the vessels.

Barbosa bored his jaundiced eyes towards Flip, the two of them not even stopping to blink as he watched him mull over the command, “show her, and I’ll give you the one thing you want most in this world,” he taunted again, the words stinging the old captain’s face as he heard every pronounced word.

After a few moments, he indulged his curiosities, “bring the slut,” he chanted to his mate, who nodded and promptly went to fetch you.

Flip grimaced at the slur, his fists balling at his sides as he tried to compose himself. ‘take some deep breaths buddy,’ he chanted in the recesses of his mind, ‘she’ll be back with you in no time, maybe,’ exhaling at the notion.

The crewman produced your writhing form from the gallows below, your hair in complete chaos, stripped down to your skivvies as you gnashed at the whistles and howls from the enemy crew taking you in.

“Get the fuck off of me you bastards!” screaming at the top of your lungs, your body freezing as the cool air hit your undergarments.

“Now, now, lil’ lady,” Barbosa gripped you in his crusty hands, pushing you to be shown to your lover, “you need to play nice in this negotiation, pet,” running greasy fingers through your tattered hair, the feeling making your face contort in disgust as you shut your eyes.

“I’m not a prize to be negotiated,” spitting on his buckled boots as you were slapped across the face by his first mate.

“You will behave, whore!” he shouted, you hissing from the pain of the blow as your feral form looked over to finally lock eyes with your sailor.

“Flip!” you yelled, “Flip you fucking jackass!” a combination of angry and relieved as you were forced to your knees on the deck of the ship.

“As you were saying,” Barbosa continued, his crewman wrapping a gag around your mouth as you groaned and bit at him, “produce your trade, captain,” he taunted, curious what could be more important than a lowly whore.

Flip snarled as he watched you be treated like an animal, the blood boiling in his veins as he backed to produce the chest, “Here, is my trade,” he pronounced, the stone top hitting the wooden deck in a thud.

A hush grew over the crowd of scalawags, bugged eyes gazing at the Aztec gold as is shimmered in the sunlight. Flip’s cheeky grin appeared as he saw the captain squirm under his prize he’d thought he’d had over him, crossing his muscled arms over his chest as he waited for Barbosa to reply.

“Name yer terms, Zimmerman,” he snarled quizzically towards the handsome sailor, placing an iron grip on the top of your head as you panted below him staring into the eyes of your lover.

“You give me, Y/N,” he cocked his head, deep voice radiating your name like a siren song, the wetness forming in your britches as you angrily writhed again, wanting to choke the life out of every sailor on the Seven Seas including blowhole.

“And?” the scheming captain pandered, gesturing for the rest of his demands.

“And,” looking you dead in the eyes as he retorted back with sarcasm, “I’ll give you the answer to your problems, Hector,” smiling as he tipped his cap towards him, “I know you crave to... feel again,” the final nail in the negotiations pinned as he waited on baited breath, canons at the ready in case of a mutiny.

“Well,” the captain contemplated again, ripping your face to meet his as his ratty finger stroked your pristine cheek “let’s get this goin’ then shall we lass?” chuckling as he lifted your weight to his eye level.

Flip watched as he drug your body towards the end of the ship, eyeballing his crew as they readied for any kind of foul play.

“You want her so badly, captain?” he mewled at him, “then go fetch your whore!” flipping your ass off the end of the ship to sink you in the depths of the black ocean, a series of screams echoing coupled with a splash as you fell.

“Mother fucker!” Flip yelled out, ridding himself of his cap and jacket, to bound over the edge of his ship, a chorus of yells erupting on both sides as canons began to flare in an all out brawl.

He penetrated the cold water, hair erupting around him as he sought out your figure flailing in the ocean, hands tied around your back as you struggled to meet the surface for oxygen.

He stroked over to you, a frenzy of waves crashing overhead as he gripped your waist to pull you to the surface. A huge gasp leaving your lungs as you felt the cool breeze on your wet face.

“I’ve got ya, darlin’,” he panted, pulling himself and you towards the Roger as gunfire clouded the ships, “I’ve got ya,” using his brute strength as you helplessly floated with him.

He pulled you to the back of the ship, shoving you in a porthole before he climbed in as well, the thud of your body causing him to chuckle slightly as he remembered your restraints.

As soon as he climbed in he was met with a slap on the face, the strength of it knocking him back to the wall of his ship. Your raging fists in front of your face as you’d escaped your ropes.

“You lying,” stumbling over him, fists balled up in a fury, “cheating,” gritting your teeth, “sleazy, son of a bitch, pirate asshole, motherfucker!” screaming as another hard punch landed on his prominent nose.

“Jesus fuckin’,” he groaned, the blow causing his nose to bleed as he shook himself back to reality, your angry apparition clouding his vision.

“I-I’m sorry darlin’,” putting his hands in retreat as you had hauled a piece of wood to beat him with, “I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry!” cowering slightly to prepare for an ass beating he so rightfully deserved.

“You’re not fuckin’ sorry at all you asshole,” heavy sobs leaving your lungs as you watched him get up, the faint sounds of shotguns blaring amongst the waves, “If you were sorry you wouldn’t have left me to die on that goddamn island you cowardly shit!” heaves coming out from you as you fell to your knees, cowering in the reality that he was using you for his own trade deals.

“I-I you’re right,” he stammered, watching as you wailed from the drama over the last few days of your capture, “I-I’m such a shit,” he agreed, trying to inch closer to comfort you, only to have you pummel his kneecaps in revolt.

“Don’t,” you looked up, seeing red, “don’t you fucking touch me, Phil!” releasing a breath as you gathered your thoughts again.

“In fact, why don’t you go save your precious crew while I stay down here and think about all the things I��m gonna do to you later you fucking dick!” shooing him away with cat scratches as he stumbled up towards the fighting.

“I’ll be back, my sweet siren,” trying to signal his apology, his amber eyes boring into yours as he looked for any sign of forgiveness, “and you can do whatever you see fit to me,” bowing as he smirked, running his ass up to fight the good fight as you rolled your eyes, thinking of ideas to pummel his ass later on.

I HOPE THIS WAS CHEEKY ENOUGH FOR YOU! BLOWHOLE IS NEAR AND DEAR TO MY HEART AND HE’S SUCH A DICK HE DESERVES A RIGHT BEATING FROM US FOR SURE! 😂

oneshot taglist: @maybe-your-left, @safarigirlsp, @clydesfavoritegirl, @emeraldsiren20, @thepalaceofmelanie, @bpdbensoloblog, @hopeamarsu, @caillea

#flip zimmerman request #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman #flip x you #flip x reader #pirate!flip #flip zimmerman imagine #yes i alluded to pirates of the caribbean and im not sorry #i fucking love this au im so deep in it now

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diddlesanddoodles · 4 years

Text

DUMPLING ch 42

The dress was a buttercup yellow with white rimmed sleeves that dragged on the floor. Nenani stood very still as Lolly carefully pinned the dress in several places to get the fit just right. Her mother stood to the side, watching with an odd mixture of emotions.

“You look beautiful, Nenani,” she said. But there was something in her eyes that made her look sad.

“The sleeves are so long,” Nenani said, tilting her head to look at Lolly and flapping her arms. “I look like a bird...”

“It’s the fashion right now,” Lolly said with a suppressed grin. “All the ladies at court are wearing them long. You will be turning heads when they see you.”

“Why do I need to be turning heads?” Nenani asked, feeling nervous. After her talk with Jae and Farris about the upcoming dinner, she was beginning to have serious reservations about the whole ordeal.

“Because you’re going to a dance,” her mother told her straight faced. “And it’s better to go wearing the proper shoes.”

Giving her mother a befuddled tilt of the head, Nenani asked, “Huh?”

“This dinner will be our first introduction to the Vhasshalan court in an official capacity,” Oira told her. “It would be better to make a good impression. And clothes are the first thing they will see. Well, aside from us being human that is. People at court have a certain capacity to be shallow and cruel. It was true in Silvaara and it’s true here in Vhasshal. We have to present to them a carefully painted picture so we can’t give them anything that might come back to haunt us later.”

Nenani looked up at Lolly with an anxious look. “I don’t think I want to go...”

“Don’t fret, Nenani,” Lolly told her gently. “All you need to do is stand there and look pretty. His majesty and your mother with handle everything else.”

As Lolly finished the fitting, Nenani could not strike the feeling from her mind that she was not going to enjoy any of it.

…………………………………………………..

It was a little awkward carrying her dagger and the roll of leather, but even as Jae asked for the fifth time if she needed help carrying anything, she assured him she was fine. But as they rounded the edge of the guard barracks and made their way to the smithy, Nenani turned to stared at Jae as he walked beside her, noting the bottle in his hand. When he looked over and saw her staring, his brow furrowed. “What?”

“I thought you were going to get rid of that,” she said, pointing to bottle of whiskey.

“I am,” Jae replied with a dismissive shrug. “I’m givin’ it to Connar. To try and bribe him into making your belt for you. Not that I think he would refuse you. But a little bribery never hurt. Plus, it’s easier to give this away then just dump it.”

“I don’t understand how you could drink that stuff,” Nenani scrunched her nose up and adjusted the roll of leather under her one arm. “It smells terrible.”

“Wasn’t drinking it for the flavor,” Jae assured her. “But a lot of folks swear it’s the best tasting whiskey you can get. Keral’s famous for it.”

“Still smells bad.”

“Funnily enough,” Jae shot back with a smarmy grin. “So does Keral.”

In all her time living in Vhasshal, Nenani had met all the resident humans save for one; Connar. He was a metal and leather worker in the King’s smithy alongside his guardian, Hev. Another name Nenani was familiar with, but had no face to match it with. The metal medallion around her neck, Jae’s neck, and all other humans in the castle were all made by Connar. Ostensibly due their smaller size, the job was much more suited to human hands than a giant’s.

And as they drew nearer to their destination, the steady beat of metal striking metal became more pronounced and there was a metallic bite to the air itself as though she could smell the forge in the smithy just as she could smell the ovens in the kitchens. But instead of crusty loaves of yeasted breads, the only thing being pulled from the mouth of Hev’s fiery forge were the glowing bars of heated metal.

The smithy was a wide squat structure more reminiscent of a barn than a proper workshop. There was no door, rather the whole front of the building was left open. Tables were strewn with tools and weapons of all kinds and all in varying states of manufacture or repair. There was a barrel off to one side filled to the brim with flat metal blanks in the vague shape of a sword, only waiting to be heated and shaped into their final form and given a hilt. The walls were filled as well with swords and daggers, axes of varying sizes from a small hatchet to an enormous battle ax. And then beneath all of it, Nenani could heard the great breathing bellows of the forge and waves of heat hit her face as they approached.

They passed under the shadow of the smithy’s interior and Nenani scanned the walls as they pushed inwards. So much metal and weaponry and leather. It reminded her of the first time she was taken into the kitchens where she saw all the knives and cleavers therein, but even that paled in comparison to the sheer number of blades hanging from the walls and laying atop tables.

“It’s pretty nice coming here in the winter,” Jae told her. “Stays nice and warm. But the summer is just brutal.”

Nenani paused to look over at a mace casually leaning against the leg of the table, marveling at the idea that anyone could pick up something so lumbering and heavy. It looked like it would be a challenge even for a giant.

Beside her, Jae slipped the bottle of whiskey under his arm and cupped his hands around his mouth. “HELLOOOOO!”

From further into the space came a response. “Hello?”

Jae turned to her and grinned before yelling back, “Hello!”

A pause and then a confused sounding, “Hello who?”

“Hello you.”

“Hello me?”

“Yeah.”

Another pause and an amused response came back. “...Jae? Is that ye?”

The young man laughed and called back, “Yeah, its me.”

There was a series of clanks and the sound of something shuffling around the dirt floor before a giant head peaked out from behind a wall near the back of the room. He had a round pleasant face and a dark, short cut beard with streaks of grey. His long black hair had been pulled into a long queue and it swung out from behind him when he poked his head out. Large brown eyes stared at them and then there was a flash of white teeth. “Well so ye are!”

The rest of the giant’s body followed his head from around the wall and he walked with long legged strides over to the pair of humans. A dark leather apron covered him from his chest down to his shins with the tawny fabric of his sleeves rolled up over thick burly arms. Despite considering herself very well accustomed to giants by this point, Nenani could not quell the sudden nervous bubble that form inside her as he bore down on them. He was more broad shouldered than either Farris or Bart and perhaps even taller. He towered over them for only a moment before he dropped down to one knee, leaning forward even more to be closer to their level. His face and arms were deeply tanned and there was a faint dusting of metal shavings stuck to his face and beard.

“Been a while since yev been down this way,” he said to Jae with an easy smile. “Was startin’ to think ye didn’t like us no more.”

“Nah, nothing like that. Things have just been kind of...hectic?”

The giant threw his head back with a loud short bark of a laugh. “So I heard. Some nutter tried to kill ye? Threw ye off the roof was it? Must be goin’ up in the world if someone found ye important enough to try and assassinate, lad. I’d congratulate ye, but it sounds like it’s more a pain in the arse than anythin’.”

“Nah, no such luck. I was just collateral,” Jae replied, gesturing with his thumb to Nenani. “He was after this one. Hev, this is Nenani.”

The giant’s thick eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Ah! So yer Farris’s lil’ squeaker? Ah, well, I suppose yer a Princess too, eh? Please excuse the state of me, yer grace. Always get a bit manky in the shop.”

“I’ll make you a deal. Don’t call me ‘princess’ or ‘your grace’ and I’ll forget everything else,” Nenani replied with a small smile.

“Oh?” Hev asked and then looked to Jae in confusion.

“She hates the titles,” he explained. “Best to just drop them.”

“Ah, well. I’ll try to do that, but forgive me if I slip once or twice. I don’t mean nothin’ by it.”

“Is Connar about?” Jae asked, holding the bottle up with a grin. “We got a commission for him.”

Hev dipped his head and huffed in amusement before lifting up again with a nod. “Oh, sure. He’s just nappin’ over near the rag pile. Cold weather makes his leg ache, so he likes to build himself a lil’ nest over there. I’ll get ‘im fer ye.”

Hev pushed himself back onto his feet and after a few quick stride of his long legs, disappeared back behind the wall. His voice could be heard clearly enough. “Connar, ye up? Come on then, wake up. Oi! Ye lazy bum. Put yer shirt back on. How can ye be complainin’ about the cold when he ye haven’t even got yer damn shirt on? Now get dressed and try to pretend yer civilized fer all of a few minutes, eh? Ye got company.”

There was a fainter groan and then a curse. “Huh? Wait...Really?”

“Yeah, Farris’s ward’s is here t’see yer sorry arse. Y’know...the Princess?”

“The...Princess? Wait. What?! Ah, shit!”

Hev gave a loud laugh.

“Where’s my shirt? Hev, where’s my shirt?”

“How should I know?”

“Well, I put it there and now it’s gone!”

“I didn’t steal yer grimy little shirt. What’d I even use it fer?”

“I dunno. Hide it for a laugh?”

“Ah, not this time.”

“Dammit...I know I had it...”

“...ye check yer pants?”

“What?”

“I said did ye check yer pants?”

“...wha…? Why would I check my pants for my shirt?”

“Because it’s tucked into yer arse, ye fuckin’ dolt.”

“What? Oh! Hey! There it is!”

There was a pause and the Hev said in a contemplative tone, “Sometimes I wonder how ye ever managed to miss seein’ that trap. And sometimes, like now, I don’t wonder quite as much.”

“...fuck you, Hev.”

“Love ye too, lad,” Hev replied cheekily and then shouted back at Nenani and Jae. “OK, yer grace. He’s decent enough. Oh, sorry. Already forgot about the title thing. I mean...yeah, yer good to come on back.”

Nenani shot Jae a look of confused amusement and he just grinned back. Rounding the wall that Hev had disappeared behind, the floor dropped two steps and opened into a large round room with a cone shaped ceiling that ended in a sharp point. Flat openings near the pitch of the roof were opened to the outside, letting smoke and heat escape. The farthest wall from the entrance was dominated by a round bricked forge that, to Nenani’s eye, looked very much like one of Quinn’s ovens, only much much larger. Around the lip of the forge were long black metal poles. Some were nestled into the glowing coals or leaning against the forge itself. Off to the left side was a large bellows, sitting on the ground and positioned perfectly for a giant to step upon it with their foot to breath air into the fire. Next to that sat a giant black anvil with on large hammer resting upon it.

To the right of the forge was an open barrel of water and just beyond that was a large pile of rags, all colored black from soot and dirt and it was there that Hev stood, looking down at a human as they adjusted their shirt and quickly tried to force their messy mop of hair into something presentable.

When Nenani and Jae hoped the last step and down onto the dirt floor, Hev looked up at them and flash a grin. “Ye might need to forgive the state of this one’s dress as well. I’d say he’s just feelin’ under the weather, but...he never really looks any better than this.”

“Shut it you.”

Nenani found herself slightly taken aback when she finally laid eyes on Connar. She had expected an older man by the way everyone spoke of him, but he was surprisingly young. Older than Jae, but perhaps more Riley’s age. Perhaps even a bit older, but only just.

Connar was a lean, dark haired young man with thin gray eyes and his face was marked with faint white lines across his tanned skin. Old scars. His hands were similarly marked, but the most prominent feature of his person was the distinct absence of his left leg. In it’s place was a carved wooden replacement. From his left knee down, his leg was gone and he stood instead with a false one peaking out from the folded fabric of his gray trousers. However, instead of a plain round peg as Nenani had seen before on some sailors, Connar’s fake leg was carved as though to mimic the real leg he had lost. It had even been oiled and polished and he wore a shoe as well to match the one on his right foot.

He must have seen her staring at it, because when she looked up to meet his eye, he wore a knowing expression. “Lost it to a snap trap a couple years back,” he explained. “Some fucker was pouching on the King’s land while I happened to be trespassing through it and snap! No more leg.”

Her eyes widened in horror at the prospect. “That’s terrible!”

“Oh it was,” Hev agree vehemently. “Lil’ fella almost bled out in my arms.”

“But you’re not here to listen to my sob story,” Connar said, waving a hand and looking down at the roll of leather under Nenani’s arms. “Have a project for me, your grace?”

Hev bent down and tapped Connar on the head.

“Ow!”

“She doesn’t like titles.”

“Fine! You just needed to say. Ugh, that hurt!”

“Ah, I didn’t get ye that bad.”

“Says you,” Connar shot back, rubbing his head and wincing. He shook off the pain and annoyance and turned his attention back to Nenani and Jae. “So, what’ve you got for me, your-not-grace?”

“Nonna gave me this,” she said, holding out the dagger. “And I was wondering if you could make me a belt for it.”

Connar reached out and took the dagger, pulling it from its sheath and inspected the blade. Holding it to the light, he turned his eyes to Nenani. “You’re Thorn?”

“On my father’s side. Yeah.”

His eyes drifted down to the amulet around her neck. “And what about that?”

“It’s a fire opal,” she explained. “It helps keep my magic from spilling out all at once so I don’t die.”

Above them, Hev grunted, his eyed wide. “That can happen?”

“Yep,” Jae answered for her. “Almost did.”

“Well, that would be bad,” Connar replied. His eyes lingered on the metal chain. “Might want to swap that chain though. The links are far too thin to be holding up something that heavy. It’s gonna bust loose if you’re not careful.”

Connar slipped the dagger back into its sheath and then inspected the leather work of it. He hummed appreciatively. “They’re well made. The metal is very good. The blade needs sharpening, but I don’t think they really sharpen these. They’re ceremonial if I’m remembering right. Can’t have little kids stabbing each other, I suppose.”

He handed it back to Nenani, but as she tried to reclaim the dagger, the roll of leather fell from her arms. Connar picked it up and let it unroll. Holding it up, he whistled. “This would do well for a nice belt. But, is that all you’re wanting? Just a belt? There’s a lot more material here.”

She shrugged. “What else could you do with it?”

Connar gave her a devilish grin. “Oh, so many things. Tell you what. If can trust me enough, go on and leave me this here leather and come back to see me in...oh, about two days? I’ll have something for you.”

She nodded and smiled. “Okay.”

Jae stepped up and held out the bottle to him. “Here. Something to sweeten the pot.”

Connar’s eyes lite up. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah,” Jae replied. “Promised Farris I’d keep away from it. So I’m back sucking lime flower leaves.”

Connar quickly rolled the leather back up and slipped it under his arm before eagerly grabbing up the bottle. “Well, that’s your loss,” he said and then looked back to Nenani. “Let me revise my previous statement. Come back in three days and I’ll have something you’ll absolutely love. And I’ll see about getting a better chain for your amulet too.”

“Thank you!” she said excitedly.

Conna held up the bottle. “No, thank you.”

………………………..

Despite the cold weather, the repairs on the west wing were coming along at an astonishing pace. All the broken roof tiles had been pulled off and the masonry underneath taken apart, stone by stone, and finally the fire damaged wood beams. Large new timbers had been delivered and installed to replace them and the masons were now laying back the foundation stones with fresh mortar. But as the giants worked, their craftsmanship was not the focus of Nenani and Jae’s fascination.

“How would it even have gotten there?”

“It must be part of the original structure. Like the tunnels.”

“You’re saying that the humans who built those tunnels would have also been the ones to build that?”

“Well, who else would have?”

“There’s no way!”

“They must have, though. Unless ancient Vhasshalans did.”

“It’s huge!”

“What? You don’t think humans can build big things? Have you ever seen castle Nethwyn? Well...I guess you haven’t. But’s it’s freaking huge too. The great hall was big enough to fit a hundred people and thirty giants comfortably. At least that’s what I always heard.”

From the vantage point of a high gable, Jae and Nenani stared down into the open wound of the west wing’s roof and at an enormous stone head that rose up from within the thick walls. It was nearly as tall as a giant and three times as wide. The damage done by the dragon’s attack had revealed it when work began on the repairs and more astonishing was that there seemed to be more the further down they went. The back of its head faced into the corridor and was the majority of what was visible while its face, still obscured by the outer stone wall, looked out into the valley.

“I thought Warren was just having a laugh when he said they found a giant head in the wall,” Jae said. “Or that maybe I just understood what he was telling me. Yaesha had given me some potent tonics.”

“Do you think there’s more of them?” Nenani asked.

“Maybe,” he said lightly. “But seeing how dug in that one it, it might take another dragon attack for the others to be dug out.”

Nenani made a face. “I wonder if he’s gonna have them wall it back up.”

“Don’t know. Seems a pity to cover it back up again.”

“Yeah.”

A short silence fell between them.

“So,” Jae said, breaking the quite, and tilting his head to peer at her curiously. “You ready for your official debut at court?”

“No,” she replied, her eyes watching one of the workmen slather a trowel with mortar and place a vaguely square shaped stone into place and giving it a rapid tap with the butt of his trowel before turning back to his bucket and beginning the process again with the next stone. “But I’ll be there. I’m just gonna do what Lolly said and just...sit there and look pretty. I guess. The dress is pretty heavy so that might be all I can do anyway. Are you going?”

He sighed. “Warren asked me if I would come and I tried to make an excuse, but Rosanna answered for me. So I’m going. And she’s already picked out my clothes for me and everything. And I swear she’s deliberately choosing the doublets that are just constricting enough for me not to be able to have any free movement. It’s like what I imagine wearing a corset’s like.”

Nenani laughed. “She knows you better than you give her credit for.”

“I mean...it’s nice not having to look over my shoulder all the time, but really. She’s starting to act like she’s my mom. Just this morning for example! When I went to talk to Warren, she didn’t like how I combed my hair and then did it for me. And Warren had the biggest shit-eating grin. It’s been years since I’ve had the urge to hit him, but ugh...got really close then. Could have done with that arm of yours. Wouldn’t thrown my damn shoe at him.”

“Yale must be right, then,” Nenani giggled. “Maybe she’s practicing being a mommy on you.”

Jae glared at her with an unimpressed look.

“So, speaking of the dinner,” Nenani said, steering the conversation away from the subject of the Queen. “Do have any pointers for me? On what I should and shouldn’t do?”

“Oh sure,” Jae replied. “A warning: a lot of courtiers might try to mess with you.”

“Mess with me?” Nenani frowned. “How?”

“Nothing too bad. And I don’t think Eldherst will bother you. I’m gonna bet he’ll be pestering Warren about the armory again. I just mean a lot of the Lords in power now were there during the war and some still harbor...ill feelings towards humans. Though not overtly. They’re a lot more...subtle about it. One or two of the older ones just saw me as Warren’s pet when I first came. One of them even asked me once wear my leash was and why I wasn’t on it. Should’ve told Warren about it, but I was still a kid and just wanted to leave. But I told Keral the next day. Supposedly he crushed up a dried red dragon pepper and slipped it into the Lord’s snuff box.”

With a look of horror, Nenani put her hand to her nose. Her mind supplying the mental image of someone snorting even just a small bit of regular pepper sounded horribly painful. But her horror turned into giggles and Jae grinned with her.

“For you though, the one I’d look out for most is Lord Calem. Tallish guy. Always wears this hideous yellow coat and wears too much cologne. You’ll be able to smell him long before you see him.”

“Why? Does he not like humans?”

“No. Opposite in fact. He is...very friendly.”

She looked at him askance. “How...is that a bad thing?”

It was Jae’s turn to make a face. “He’s a well meaning, but totally condescending idiot with no sense of personal space. And when he drinks, he gets all...cuddly. Especially with humans. I’ll tolerate Kol’s nonsense to a point. He’s my friend. But not Colem. He’s one of the main reasons I stopped going to those things.”

“What?” she laughed.

“Yep. He’ll want to pet you. Like...a pet. Like a dog. After two glasses of wine, he’ll get all up in your face and try to pet on you,” Jae said with a grin and then shrugged. “And since you’re small and cute, better watch out.”

She blinked at Jae’s choice of words, feeling her face flush.

“What?” he asked, looking at her.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly.

“...serious. You all right? I mean, the guy’s annoying, but he’s no Thrist.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

“...you just...well...you called me cute.”

“Uh huh..?” He drawled, squinting at her and she felt the heat in her face increase and she turned away from him to try and hide it. He leaned into her field of vision, a single eyebrow raised. “You feeling okay?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Yup.”

“Because you’re red.”

“I’m fine.”

“Like...beet red.”

“I said I’m fine!”

He smirked at her suddenly. “Oh.”

“Shut up,” she snapped and rose to her feet, turning to the open window behind them and hoping down onto the table below.

Jae leaned over to peer at her. “But I didn’t say anything...”

She glared at him. “I said shut up!”

With a smug grin so reminiscent of Keral that she felt the very real urge to punch him, he said, “You...you don’t fancy me do you?”

“No!” Her fingers sparked as she slammed the window shut and then pulled the latch down for good measure.

“Hey!” Jae got to his feet and pushed at the window. “Open up! Geez, Nenani, I was just joking!”

Nenani pretended she couldn’t hear him as she carefully climbed down the table leg, too angry and mortified to feel any pride in having gotten down off of a table all on her own.

“Nenani! Come one!”

“There are other windows!” she called back as she rounded the corner to find the tunnel door.

....................................

BONUS ART: Oh look! It’s ol’ Hev.

#Dumpling #G/t story #g/t #Giant/tiny #g/t fantasy story #Hev #Connar #Nenani #Jae #Lolly #Oira #g/t writing #Dumpling art

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chlorophyii · 4 years

Text

Life for villains isn't as peaceful and stress free as everyone makes it out to be. It’s fucking stressful and boring, like imagine not being able to go out without looking over your back and trying to hide your face. Though I’m not on a wanted list, you still have to be suspicious because of the people I’m affiliated with.

Pulling on my white coat and washing my hands, I pull out a tablet and start doing my rounds on the Nomu. This fucking job is boring, but the only reason I’m still here is because of him.

The man.

The one who stole my heart.

That fucking crusty ass.

I swear he didn’t even know what lotion or chapstick is. Well he was practically raised by potato lookin ass One for All so it's reasonable.

After doing all the rounds on the inprogress Nomu’s, I go and place the tablet on the table next to the doctor sitting in his chair. I swear ive never seen him anywhere except in that fucking chair, like does he even know how to walk? Or take bathroom breaks? I don’t know he’s a strange dude, and the exact reason he doesn’t know much about me.

“Done already?” He questions.

“Yeah, I wanted to be there when Shigaraki gets back.” I say pulling my purse onto my shoulder, then walking around collecting medical supplize.

“What do you need that for? I would think a woman of your capabilities wouldn’t need that.” He says, turning around slouching in his chair adjusting his glasses.

“Yeah but you know they're all stubborn assholes so.” I say chuckling.

He laughs back in agreement, “I would get moving if I were you, they should be back any minute, Ms. GAY(this some gay shit).”

I look at my watch, “Shit.” I speed walk to the door, “Night, Doctor.” He responds with a night but I’m already out the door. “Creepy old man.” I say under my breath.

I hurry down the street, not wanting Shigaraki to return to an empty house after his first real “outing” since the USJ incident. I show up to an empty bar and take off my shoes and walk behind the bar and start making myself a drink. I throw in some ice and pour the whiskey in. I slowly sip the drink as I look around the bar slowly realizing it. This place fucking sucks.

Why did I have to work with them? Fuck. If I wasn’t I would be in some fancy schmancy hospital helping people. Not hurting them. Fuck how did I get myself into this, and I told myself not to let me feelings control me and yet here I am, fallin for a man adamant on destroying the hero society. The door creaks open and in walks a group of misfits that would soon call each other family and fight side-by-side. Doing a quick assessment of them it looked like Toga had the most injuries out of all of them. Toga had blood on her dripping from her head and what probably is some else's blood, one of Dabi’s staples got ripped out and his skin separated, Twice looked fine but he was out of it, Splinter didn’t look hurt but under his scales he probably was, and Compress and Magne didn’t look hurt just tired.

“How did it go?” I question.

Then Shigaraki walks in, holding a kid.

“Uh, w-what do you have there?” I question why he brought a CHILD here.

“A KID!” Twice responds so happily. I stand there and blink in fucking shock then it fucking hits me like a train. “WHY WOULD YOU BRING A KID IN THE HERO COURSE TO OUR FUCKING BASE/HOME?” I ask in so much disbelief and shock.

“Were going to convert him to our side.” Splinter says.

I just sigh and put my head into my hands,” Jesus you sound like MIke Pence. Ok there are so many things wrong with this plan, but I don’t have enough time to discuss that, First question, is anyone seriously hurt?” I say as I grab the bag I packed from the Doctor’s office rummaging through it for a sedative.

“Toga has a slight head wound, Splinter might have fractured or bruised ribs, Twice needs the comfort blanket™ and one of my staples ripped.” Dabi states having taken a roll call of sorts on their way back.

“What happened to the kid and Muscular?”

“The kid we knocked him out when we got out of there about an hour ago; Muscular got captured, nothing we could do.” Dabi finished filling me in, keeping in details almost like he’s dealt with medical injuries, which he inevitably had because of the scars. I clean a part on the kids shoulder and inject him with it.

“K. Dabi, Toga, and Splinter stay here; the rest of you guys and girl go clean up, the kid won’t be up till tomorrow. And Shigi, me and you are going to have a talk after this.” I say looking Shigaraki directly in his eyes just so he knows how mad I am.

~Time skip cuz im lazy af and this is boring affff~

“Thank you.” I say after tucking Toga and Twice in.

“No problem.” He says quietly walking away.

“You must of been a good big brother.” I say carefully watching his body language though i didn’t have to look closely to see him stiffen up like a cutting board.

“What?” He says trying to play it off.

“You don’t have to talk about it now but I know you were good, you looked out for them.” I state cleaning my hands.

“Yeah. I tried to at least.” He says quietly.

“How many?” I question wiping my hands off.

“2 brothers, 1 sister.” Ah I knew that he had at least one sister cuz of how he braids Togas hair.

“Ah a full Brady Bunch I see.” I say jokingly trying to break some tension.

“How many do you have?” He asks looking at me.

“1 brother and a bunch of cousins.” I answer truthfully against my better judgement.

“I guess it takes one to know one, huh” He says breaking up shit.

“Yeah it does.” we sit there for a little bit, then he gets up to leave, “Hey Scarface, if you need someone to talk about them to, big sibling to big sibling.”

“Got it, Katara” He says, chuckling a bit.

“Haha real funny, go get some sleep.” I say smiling a bit. He leaves quietly, and I move to Shigaraki and I’s room. I see Shigaraki’s form laying in the bed sleeping, I grab some Pj’s and turn on the shower.

I get out and just want to lay in my bed with Shigaraki in my arms. I lay down with his back still towards me, I lightly draw patterns on his back thinking of all the different possibilities if we had just ran away when I told him to. He turns over and looks at me.

“Hey.” I whisper to be prompted with a hi back.

“Do you wish that we ran away when we were planning to?” I question.

“Maybe.” He responds, I bring my hand up to his face and starts glowing as it slowly heals his chapped lips and scabs that cover his face and neck.

“I love you so much, but sometimes you have some dumbass ideas.” I giggle as I say that, and even he chuckles from it knowing it’s true.

“Yeah but that's why I have you. Cause we both know there's no one in the League that has some common sense.” He says smiling, I laugh at it and I could swear I saw his smile widen.

I pull him more into my arms, him resting his head right on my clavicle, his nose rubbing against my neck.

“I love you too.” He responds finally. We each pull apart a little and attack each other with our lips.

this ending is SHET IM FUVKINH TIRED THO SO HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY LMAO -LOVE CHOLE

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ancientbooshartifacts · 5 years

Text

Pink Bubbles of Impending Romantic Doom

Author: Nimmy_

Year: 2008

Rating: PG

Characters: Naboo, Bollo, Chav Shaman, The Hitcher

Naboo shifted uneasily in the moonlit alleyway, glancing furtively left and right. Bollo’s reassuring presence was tangible just behind him as always, though his nerves still were as taut as stretched cheesewire. This was a shady operation; if he was found out the board would revoke his powers or worse. “What time is it, Bollo?” The tiny shaman rasped in his slightly worried monotone. “Ughh. Quarter to one,” the familiar answered, glancing at an imaginary timepiece. “We’ve been here over an hour! I don’t believe this, where is he?” “Cool ya boots, Naboo – I’s ere, innit?” Naboo’s little heart almost popped right out of his chest as the shady black-market shaman appeared. “About bloody time, where’ve you been? We’ve been waiting ages!” “Aright, chill, yeah? Lost track of time, me an’ Deebo were playin’ Mario Galaxy on ‘is Wii and I was well givin’ im beatin’s!” Naboo’s dark eyes smouldered quietly. “Do you like Mario Galaxy, Naboo?” “I dunno. I haven’t got any computer games,” he paused. “Well actually, Bollo’s got a gameboy. I’m good at Pac man.” Bollo grunted his agreement. “He better than me. I no can get past ghosts.” “Pac man? Dat’s well borin’, you gotta get one of dem Wii fings, dey’re the shit, yeah?” Naboo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, have you got the stuff?” “Yeah, you got money?” the shady shaman looked left and right theatrically. Naboo held aloft a roll of notes that amounted to no less than two thousand Euros. “Now we is talkin’,” the shaman took the notes and tucked the roll down his pants. Naboo grimaced. Next, the shaman produced a blue plastic flask from inside his Adidas shamanic tunic. Naboo’s expression melted from tense anticipation to flat disbelief. “What the hell’s that, you jerkoff? I just paid you two thousand Euros for a Thermos of coffee?” “Chill, yeah! Me mum’s washing out all dem mystical-lookin’ glass bottles, dey all had crusty shit at the bottoms. This is all I ‘ad, bruv. It’ll do, yeah?” he extended the flask to the grouchy little shaman, who snatched it from his grasp, quick as a cobra. “I’ve probably got a spare phial to put it in back at the shop,” Naboo conceded with a mutter. “Yeah, sorted!” the shaman looked to the left for a second, scratching his head through his turban. “When you’ve done that den, yeah, can I ‘ave the flask back Naboo? It’s me dad’s, he does a nightshift at the factory and he’ll kick off if he finds out I’ve nicked it.” Naboo rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’ll bring it with me next time,” he started to walk away. “Come on, Bollo.” The shifty shaman grinned after him with his shimmering gold face. “Cheers Naboo. Laters.” * Naboo arrived home at the flat unannounced, and heard heavy, running footsteps as he ascended the stairs. “What’s going on?” he called, reaching the top of the staircase to see just a flash of little blue knickers and silver go-go boots disappear behind a hastily slammed-shut door. There were satsumas all over the floor. After an impressively short amount of time, Vince appeared from the same door, fully dressed in a superb outfit that was an inspired amalgamation of New Romantic and Beatnik. “Alright!” he grinned, exuding sunshine and fluffy pink candyfloss. Naboo ignored the breezy greeting. “You making a mess in my flat again?” “No,” Vince said, subtly kicking a satsuma under the settee. At this point Howard emerged from the doorway. “Naboo! How’s it going? Did you get your shaman squash?” Naboo frowned at the jazz maverick. “Shaman juice,” he whipped out the flask and brandished it. Vince grinned, sniggering. “Looks like a flask of Nescafe to me.” “He didn’t have a shamanic magic phial, all right? I’m gonna change it,” he snatched the flask back and marched into the kitchen area on his little legs. “So what’s this one do, Naboo?” Vince asked, following him. “Is it like the one last time, does it give you really mental powers? That last one was genius, despite the episode with the horrible fox with shitty breath.” Naboo unscrewed the flask and began to pour the glittering pink liquid into a beautiful rounded jar of red tinted glass. “Nah, it’s nothing like the last one. This one is a cure for hangovers – just one drop will take away the worst hangover. If you’re off your face on speed, one sip will bring you back down instantly.” “Wow!” Vince laughed. “Good for you shamans then, you’re always getting wasted. You’re well hardcore.” Naboo corked the jar and put it in the fridge. “Well, we’re charged with protecting the world from evil and magical menace. That’s a pretty big responsibility. It’s good for us to let our hair down now and again.” “Now and again? You’re a load of crackheads!” A warning glare from Naboo’s direction quieted Vince. “Right, me and Bollo are going in my room to work on Shaman stuff. Keep it down, will you?” “Yeah yeah.” Howard waited until Naboo’s door was shut before hissing at Vince. “You said he wouldn’t be back tonight!” “Yeah, well I could’ve sworn he said he was staying at Pete’s…” Vince shrugged, averting his gaze. Howard wasn’t placated. “The satsuma game isn’t for anyone else to see, it’s just for you and me at night, when we’re on our own!” “Cool it Howard, he didn’t see anything,” Vince brushed off the admonition, taking Naboo’s potion out of the fridge. “Wow, check this out. It’s all pink and sparkly, like a Flirtini. Genius!” “No, come on, Vince – don’t be touching Naboo’s potions. It’ll only end up in disaster-” “It’s only a glorified high-strength Resolve, Howard – what’s it gonna do, cure your headache? Ooh!” He gestured with his hands in mock-terror. “Even so, little man – you can never be too careful. Even Howard Moon, man of action, shows the proper caution when dealing with substances of unknown origin. Oh yes, there have been some close shaves with a particularly lethal magic cocktail in the past. But there was no need to fear, for Howard Moon was there to set all to rights. They call me the maveri- Vince, what are you doing?” “This stuff’s great, it goes all frothy when you shake it up a bit. You can blow bubbles with it. Genius!” Howard watched in disbelief as Vince dipped the little plastic hoop from his bubble-blower into the potion and blew a couple of large bubbles from it. “Vince! You really don’t listen to anything I say, do you?” “It makes big pink glittery bubbles! Look at ‘em, they’re sparkling like psychedelic Fairy liquid disco balls!” Vince giggled as he danced among the bubbles, revelling in the pinky glitteriness. “What were you on about, Howard?” “Nothing. Truly, nothing,” Howard grumbled and flopped onto the settee. Vince went over to the window and opened it. “Check this out. Shoreditch is gettin’ some of these glitter bubbles!” “Fascinating.” Swishing the little plastic hoop around in the shimmering pink potion, Vince took a huge deep breath and created an explosion of glittery pink bubbles from the window. The wind carried them away in all directions and filled the night sky with tinselly orbs of pink. “That’ll cheer everyone up,” Vince laughed, stepping away from the window. He bounced over to Howard and sat next to him. “Howard?” Silence. “Howard.” “…” “Howard, Howard,” Vince pressed. Howard studied his nails. “Howard, Howard? Howard. Howard. Howard! Howard! Howard? Howard. Howard, Howard!” Howard swung his head around to face Vince to give him a sharp reprimand, only to receive a mouthful (and indeed, a faceful) of pink glitter bubbles. Howard spluttered and cursed as Vince just laughed himself silly and blew more bubbles at Howard, hitting him in the hat and the moustache. “Hohohh, aw Howard. Sorry. I couldn’t help it.” Nothing. “Come on, Howard. Don’t get your y-fronts all twisted. It was just a prank to cheer you up.” Howard just grabbed the potion from Vince, looked at him, then splashed him in the face with the jar. Vince gasped in shock and horror. “Howard, you ballbag, look what you’ve done to me hair!” Howard simply found the cork, plugged the jar and put it back in the fridge before storming off to his room. Vince was fuming. He threw himself towards the nearest mirror to inspect the damage. It had completely soaked, and therefore flattened, the front of his hair. His entire fringe. He wiped the pink glittery wetness from his face with the back of his hand and licked it from his lips. It tasted remarkably like Pink. If each colour had one definitive taste, this is what Pink would taste like. It was rather nice, actually. He continued licking around his mouth and cleaned the smears off the back of his hand with his pink-stained tongue. ** Far away now, the pink bubbles rode the currents of the wind like little men riding magical horses of cheese. The winds tossed them far and wide. One of them passed directly over the house of the shady black-market Shaman. The one with the Gold Face. We don’t know his name, really. Let’s call him Francis. Francis was just mopping the last of the tomato sauce from his plate with a soggy toast soldier when a thought occurred to him. After meeting Naboo, he had just returned his potions to their freshly washed phials, to discover that he had one hangover-cure too many in his stock cupboard. Thinking this just a jammy mistake on his potion-dealer’s part, he’d continued to munch down his spaghetti hoops without concern. But now, as he chewed on the sauce-smeared soldier, he decided he should check his stock. He left his plate for his mum to find and wash, heading to his room. * He looked at each carefully labelled jar, and checked them against his hand-written stock-sheet. “Two bottles of Nympho juice, ‘free bottles of sex-reverse potion, two bottles of owl-beak cream…” There was certainly a theme ongoing in the majority of Francis’ stock, due to the majority of demands. “… one jar of Goff salve, three jars of fut’cha peanuts… shit, where’s me bottle of Lov’ Juice?” Francis searched frantically through the cupboard. It was starting to make sense. He had one extra jar of hangover-cure, and he was missing one bottle of Love Juice. And he’d just sold Naboo what was supposed to be… Francis gulped. “Friggin’ ell.” ** In the faraway reaches of London’s east end… ** “What’s for tea?” “Toad-in-the-hole.” “Toad in the fuckin’ ‘ole? What ‘ave I told ya, boy? I’m fuckin’ lactose intolerant. Cheese plays merry ‘ell wiv my stomach you onion. What ‘appened to that pie you ‘ad in the oven?” “It got burnt!” “You burnt me pie? Then go out and get anuvver one, you slag!” “Yes boss. I’m a cockney, I’m a cockney…” The Hitcher shook his head in disbelief as the door shut behind Stu. “Useless, that boy…” he muttered to himself. “I need a slash.” Stepping out into the cool night air, The Hitcher unzipped his fly and began to relieve himself right there in the garden. Toilets were for nonces. As the yellow stuff arced from him to make a shimmering frothy pool on the moonlit grass, the Hitcher tilted his head skywards with a groan of relief. “Ohhh, that’s good,” his voice quivered. His eyes closed in rapture, he didn’t see the pink bubble zooming towards his face even as he opened his mouth to make yet another exclamation of bliss. “Fuckin’ ell!” he choked, grasping at his throat. “What the fuck was that?” His eyes were streaming from the coughing fit, and he dabbed his powerful peeper with a grubby handkerchief. “Dear oh dear…” he groaned. Regaining his composure, he tucked away his little green man and zipped his trousers back up. “Fuckin’ insects flying into me gob… hmm. Tasted… pink. Extraordinary.” He went back inside, the little puddle of yellow slowly sinking down into the soil.

#the mighty boosh #mighty boosh #boosh #naboo #naboo the enigma #bollo #howard moon #vince noir #the hitcher

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superjumpintomyheart · 6 years

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I love m4rie with all my heart u think u can do a Marie x female agent 4...

Im gonna be honest with you anon, this is reeeaaaally similar to the male agent 4 x Marie I did but I wrote this one way beforehand and I actually based that male agent 4 fix off of this one so here’s the original, I can definitely do something different in the future by I love m4rie

Marie couldn’t believe she was crushing on an agent.

An agent she recruited, to be exact. Cod, she would never see daylight again if Callie found out, she could her her now, shouting about how she’d only recruited her so she could try and make a move. That wasn’t her intention at all, it never had been. She was worried about saving her cousin, then the Great Zapfish, and somehow along the way she found herself noticing all the little things Four did. Then she was admiring the way she trained for a boss kettle, how her hair flipped around when she dodge rolled, the pointed teeth in her smile, she could go on.

It was beginning to become a problem when the final boss battle ended, after Callie was rescued as well as the Great Zapfish, Four stopped coming down to the canyon as often. She saw her agent less and less, and her heart practically ached for a romance she didn’t have. It drove her right up to the edge so many times, enough that she would almost run up to Four herself, look her in the eye and tell her how much she loved her. But every time she decided if she didn’t see those beautiful eyes and bright tentacles in the next day or two, there was Agent Four, coming down to say hello and check up on the Squid Sisters.

She was killing herself by not saying anything, to Callie, to Four. Marie was stuck, she didn’t know what to do and it was beginning to tear her apart.

One day as she sat in the canyon with Callie, she decided she’d take the teasing from her cousin head on and tell her everything. All the emotions that had been building up for months, the pain, the longing, she was ready. So when Callie was done telling a story about a time from their childhood, Marie finally said, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

The inkling had looked surprised at the sudden serious tone of voice, but accepted it with a cautious, “What is it?”

Deep breaths.

“So… well, I know that I’m not supposed to do this and I’m sorry, but I can’t control how I feel especially with this and, I… I just—I like Four.” It all come out in a rush, but Callie’s ears were too sharp to miss a single syllable.

“I know.”

Marie stopped dead in her tracks, “What do you mean?”

“I know you like Agent Four, you aren’t exactly that shy with the compliments around her. Let’s not forget the tint of green that I always see on your ears whenever you talk to her, and you’re always so mopey without her around, not even I can cheer you up.”

Of course she hadn’t been hiding it well enough, Four probably already knew too, but she had to remind herself that Callie had known her since day one, it only made sense that she’d be able to spot when she had a crush on somebody. She internally facepalmed at her stupidity, but she also was relieved to know that her cousin already knew and wouldn’t take the news badly. Or, at least, she didn’t appear to be taking the news badly.

“Anyways, the reason I’m telling you, Callie, is because I don’t know what to do,” Marie continued. “Four hardly comes down here anymore, and at first I thought it would be a good way to get rid of my feelings but… they’re just worse now. I miss seeing her all the time, training her, talking to her even though she’s always been kind of quiet.”

“Okay, I get it, don’t go all lovesick puppy on me now. I know just what you need to do,” she responded. “You want to see Agent Four more, so you have to make an effort to do that, invite her somewhere! Go work a shift, grab a bite at Crusty Sean’s, play a round of turf, anything that gets you out of this canyon and into her heart.”

Callie always did give blunt advice, but it was the best kind. She was telling the truth, what she said she meant, so this was definitely the green inkling’s best chance at a relationship with Four. With this new plan, Marie was already thinking of some good ideas for how to ask, she would try to play it off as friendly yet flirty, hopefully borderline enough that Four could be the one to decide. Maybe she would catch on and feel the same? Or maybe willing enough to try? That was the best case scenario, but the worst… she didn’t want to think about.

“How did I not think of that? That’s a perfect plan,”

“Well, I always have been the smart one,”

Marie shook her head and giggled, she had missed her cousin so much. That was another reason she had to admire Four, she helped rescue one of the most important things to her. There was no Marie without Callie, just as there was no Four without Marie. “You sure have, Cal, you sure have.”

Luckily, there had only been a few days between the cousins initial talk about how to win over Agent Four and the time she actually showed up in the canyon. She jumped through the grate, landing on her feet as she morphed back into her regular form. Her tentacles were tied up in a bun, green from the last round of turf war she played.

“How are my favorite Squids holding up down here?” She asked as she approached the two, happy to see them both.

“Oh it’s terrible without you, Agent Four,” Callie said in an overdramatic voice. “Marie is practically dying from lack of Vitamin Four, you have to help her quickly! Before she suffers anymore pain!”

Marie smiled and waved to the agent who returned the gesture, adding, “Is that so? How can I help with this Vitamin issue?”

“Well, I was actually wondering if you’d like to go out sometime soon? I feel like I don’t get to see you enough, and Callie can get pretty… interesting after a while if you know what I mean.” She delighted in the way Four laughed at her joke, beaming with a bright, pointy smile. When she dared to glance over at her cousin, she gave an encouraging wink and smirk.

Four nodded, “I’d love to, how about Crusty Sean’s today? I’ve got nothing better to do.”

That was surprisingly easy.

“Perfect, let’s meet at noon?”

“Sounds like a plan, I’ll see you then Marie. Before I head out, Callie what’s the weapon fortune for today?”

The inkling thought for a moment, humming and making dramatic sound effects to go with the act. “I’ve got it! The recommended weapon of the day is the sloshing machine!”

Four did a fist pump in the air, followed by, “Yes! I love the sloshing machine!”

“Don’t forget to take that with a grain of salt,” Marie added.

“I’ll be out playing turf for a bit before lunch, don’t worry if I’m a few minutes late,” The agent told her friend before slowly walking back to the grate that would lead to inkopolis.

Both the cousins waved their agent goodbye and turned to each other immediately after she had disappeared through the grate. Marie wore a surprised expression while Callie’s jaw was on the floor, as it processed more in their heads, they both became more excited and shocked.

“Did that…?” Callie asked, trailing off her sentence.

“I think so,” Marie confirmed then smiled and hurried into cuttlefish cabin to look for a change of clothes. “I’m going on a date with Four!”

“You’re going on a date with Four!”

She couldn’t believe it had been so simple to just ask her to go somewhere, and it had been even easier to decide where to go since the agent picked that one. Her instinct for date attire was casual but she did have to dress a little differently to reduce the amount of people that would recognize her in the square. A beanie would fit nicely over her tentacles and her green hoodie would match with it, along with a pair of cream basics. She wished she could dress a little nicer for Four, but going out in public anytime as a celebrity was a bit of a struggle.

After she had changed, she showed Callie her outfit, who approved only because they were going to be in the middle of Inkopolis square. If they were going to be in a private place, she would have forced Marie to change into something more presentable. Even if that was just her kimono.

“What if she doesn’t want it to be a date and she just thinks we’re hanging out as friends?” The inkling worried, she was more of a logical thinker, but the idea of dating, relationships, love… it had her overthinking more than ever.

“Relax, if she thought you were just hanging out as friends, I would have tagged along too,” Callie reasoned.

“You do have a point,”

“I know I do, now listen to me Marie,” her cousin made eye contact with her and held a stern expression. “You’re going to freeze up, I just know it. I’m not going to be next to you to help you through it so try to remember this, make eye contact but don’t stare. Show that your listening but don’t get distracted by her eye color or worse case scenario, her lips.

“If you do end up staring, try to recover as smoothly as possible, this could be a prime opportunity to toss some flirting in. Next, don’t worry if you run out of conversation, you can give yourself some time to think by eating or looking around the square to jog your memory. Besides, if the silence is comfortable, that means you’re doing it right.

“And finally, if she starts flirting, clam it Marie, you better flirt back. If you don’t, she might start thinking you aren’t interested in her the way she hoped you were, and that is what is gonna ruin your chance. Okay?”

The inkling nodded to show she understood everything that had been said, be smooth, comfortable, relaxed, and don’t be afraid to flirt. She could do all that… maybe. It seemed simple enough but some things were easier said than done, she knew from experience. Maybe this wouldn’t be so hard, she had always been good at starting conversations when Four wouldn’t talk to her first, there was nothing to worry about.

When the time for their date had finally rolled around, Callie wished Marie good luck as she jumped through the grate back to Inkopolis. Arriving on the surface again always made her happy, as peaceful as it was down in the canyon, she was a city girl at heart. She made her way to the tables by Crusty Sean’s food truck and found Four at one of the tables, idly tapping on her phone.

The movement of the inkling approaching her made her look up from the small device in her hands, “Hey you made it!”

“Of course, sorry for my lack of style, being a celebrity and trying to go places is always a bit of a problem.”

“It’s alright, you actually look… really cute.”

Shit, this was the kind of stuff Callie was talking about, Marie thought as she laughed softly, “You don’t look bad yourself.”

Her hearts were beating a million miles a minute as she watched Four giggle in response, her face did appear a bit darker too, was that blush? If so, she was doing something right.

Their lunch date carried on for a few hours, between eating and all the talking they did time seemed to fly by. The only reason they stopped chatting was due to the announcements, when Four realized that she needed to get going soon. She seemed upset that she had to be the one to end their outing, perhaps she had wanted it to go on for longer, Marie sure wanted it to.

“This really has been fun, Marie. Great call on going out today,” Four confessed with a bit of a shy smile as she walked back to the entrance to the canyon with Marie.

“I had a great time too, maybe we could…” the idol trailed off, not sure if she should call it a second date or just hanging out again.

“Do it again?” The agent finished.

Marie smiled, “Yeah, when can we do this again?”

Four hummed, presumably thinking about her schedule for the week, “Well, I’ve got some missions I have to complete tomorrow and the day after, how about Friday?”

“Works for me,” she didn’t tell the other inkling that she would have cleared anything on her schedule to go out with her again.

“Great it’s… a second date?”

There it was, the bombshell that just exploded in Marie’s chest. Four did consider it a date, which meant she was totally into her. This day was one she thought she’d never see, and it was all thanks to her indecisive mind finally picking the right choice.

“It’s a second date,” she smiled fondly and she felt her ears heat up slightly from saying the words. Despite her embarrassment, she felt a wave of confidence rush over her and she reached over to give Four a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you on Friday.”

The Agent stood dumbfounded at the entrance, blush spreading across her cheeks and ears easily. She shook herself out of the trance the small peck had put her in and stuttered, “Yeah, Friday… I’ll, uh, see you then.”

Marie giggled and waved goodbye as she jumped through the grate, smiling like a dork the whole trip back.

#m4rie #female Agent 4 x marie #splatoon 2 #spla2n #Agent 4 #Marie #Callie #look at me copying my own work #hA

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yeancollab · 6 years

Text

“Hurd U..” Taeyong X Reader NYC Fuckboy AU #2

it had been a week since u went to the trap.

u ran away in tears when u saw tae’s old hoes at the cypher, feeling betrayed. for some dumb reason, u dead thought he was into u and only u.

it had been a rough couple days, but u were ready to get over ur one day crush.

u were trying to practice some self care or some shit and got urself a bubble bath and some face masks when all of a sudden u got an i message

“tae wants to play 8 ball”

u suddenly remember that at that awful trap house hang out, tae had grabbed ur phone and put his number in. just when u were about to let him go.

----------

author’s note: if any boy ever asks you to play 8 ball, block him on everything

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“8ball?” u thought to urself. “first he wanna play games w my heart, and now he wanna play 8 ball?”

u unlocked ur phone and started playing anyway like the dumb ass u are.

y’all played a couple rounds of 8ball and then instead of a came request, he was typing. the three dots were giving you so much anxiety, u didn’t even realize your face mask had dried down too hard.

“(y/n).. i got free crib 😏”

was he being deadass? WERE YOU DEAD GONNA SHOW UP??

as you thought long and hard, your phone started ringing mad loud

“what do you want” u said, sounding annoyed

“oh (y/n).. that attitude u got is hella sexy”

u rolled ur eyes but its not like he could see that

“pop out yo.. my wack ass parents are gone. we could go to popeyes or somethin’ and then chill”

popeyes was too delicious to pass up.

you put on ur cutest outfit that made u look thicc, but not like u were trying too hard. tae lived in flushing so as u rode the 7 train, you felt more and more anxious as his stop got closer. why were u so into this supreme wearing fool? this racially confused asian boy?

u got off the train and tae was waiting at the bottom of the steps for u.

“how sweet” you thought

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author’s note: why is that sweet? that is deadass the bare minimum? waiting for you at the piss scented train station. knight in shining armor...

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he was wearing blue ripped overalls and timbs, w a nike tech hoodie. his beats pill was now blasting in a sprayground backpack

he had on a coordinating snapback, and his hair was pulled back so u could see his sexy eyebrows.

he really looked like a whole snack

he licked his lips and held his arms out for a hug. u hugged his bony ass and felt so complete, wrapped in his crusty weed smell.

y’all walked hand in hand to the popeyes, and he decided then would be the perfect time to bring up the girls at the cypher

“so... those bitches at the spot.. don’t worry about them aight? they just some thots from forever ago that won’t get off my dick. females be buggin sometimes, you know?”

u stared at him, dumb founded.

“females?”

he looked at u, confused

“ain’t that what y’all are?”

in popeyes, he ordered both of y’all the 5 dollar box w/o even asking if you wanted original or spicy, fries or mashed potatoes.

he shoved the boxes into his sprayground, and y’all headed to his house

you stared down at the ground, watching his timbs trample on the grey sidewalk, wondering if you were really involving yourself w an asian fuckboy right now.

but then he turned to you and smiled, and your heart melted

y’all got inside, and busted down ur chicken.

he pulled out some hot cheetos and 2 honey buns and y’all bodied those too.

the whole time, y’all talked and laughed and laughed

he was funny tbh, and kind of a weird dork. underneath his rapper exterior, he could be worth talking to.

“(y/n).. i think you fine as hell, like deadass you a jawn,, mad exotic. u wanna ride w me? be my girl.”

your heart was pounding out of your chest

“i, i don’t know”

“don’t think about it too much baby girl. ima take care of u, u know. im on the basketball team, i flip bricks. i could get u anything, deadass i hustle. lemme make you my princess. ima drop all my hoes right now. by the way, u a virgin or what lol”

before u answered tae leaned forward, and pulled you towards his lips. he gave you a tender kiss, but then the door busted open

“TAE! TAE! I KNOW YOU DONT GOT ANOTHER BITCH IN MY HOUSE!!”

to be continued.

#THIS IS SO AWFUL I HATE MYSELF SO MUCH BCIKJEW #PLEASE #its not as good as the original but we love her anyway #taeyong fic #nct 127 scenarios #nct imagines

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glaucouseye · 6 years

Text

oh my fucking God so i’m on the coach full of mean crusty old conservative ppl who got my wine confiscated off me n shake their heads at my mum bc i smoke n look like a child n also we were late n i think also they’re bitter bc i’m yung n beautiful Anyway my coffees in the drinks holder then we go over a bump n well it wasn’t in the drinks holder anymore flew thru the air some spills on my leg but then the cup like disappears n im like oh no! n my mums cackling n then we’re stood up on the rickety fucking bus falling about crouching down tryna find this rogue coffee cup so it doesn’t like roll round the bus leaking on everyone’s belongings but it was literally no where to be found n our stuffs all over the floor n then my mums coffee like slides down the table so this man catches it n ppl are like what happen???? n im like ‘my coffee fell off i don’t know where it went!!!!’ n my mother n i have the giggles dying of that weak laughter n ppl are careering forwards checkin under their seats like how do u lose a cup of coffee n im on the floor tryna crawl under the seat banging my head then we give up sit down then abt 10 mins later the lady that’s sat behind us is like um excuse me it’s here n my mum picks it up n it’s somehow still 3/4 full so i’m just sipping on my soggy shame latte bon voyage

#opium tears

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imaginationstimulation · 3 years

Photo

“A genius . . . a writer who spent his lifetime decrying the onward march of the Machine.” — The New Yorker First published in 1936--and hailed as his best work--EYELESS IN GAZA is Aldous Huxley's loosely autobiographical novel of one man’s search for an alternative to the moral disillusionment of the modern world. Anthony Beavis, a cynical libertine Oxford graduate, comes of age in the vacuum left by World War I. His life, loves, and foreign adventures leave him unfulfilled, until. [...] EYELESS IN GAZA remains one of Huxley’s most enduring novels, a testament to the challenges and rewards of bold, vigorous thinking.

EXCERPTS / QUOTES / NOTES FROM MY READING:

[F]ashion is a topiary art. Those swan-life loins! That long slanting cascade of bosom - without any apparent relation to the naked body beneath! And all that hair, like an ornamental deformity of the skull! Oddly hideous and repellent it seemed in 1933. It was the same with these snapshots of Mary Amberley, taken ten years later. The skirt was long as ever, and within her narrower bell of drapery woman still glided footless, as though on castors. The breasts, it was true, had been pushed up a bit, the redundant posterior pulled in. But the general shape of the clothed body was still strangely improbable. A crab shelled in whalebone. And this huge plumed hat of 1911 was simply a French funeral of the first class. How could any man in his senses have been attracted by so profoundly anti-aphoridisiac an appearance? And yet, in spite of the snapshots, he could remember her the very embodiment of desirability. At the sight of that feathered crab on wheels his heart had beaten faster, his breathing had become oppressed.

...as Bubbles, in grass-green velveteen and ruffles...

...Anthony found himself reflecting impersonally, as he examined the top-hatted and tail-coated image of himself at Eton, a proof that progress can only be recorded, never experienced. He reached out for his note-bok, opened it and wrote: ‘Progress may, perhaps, be perceived by historians; it can never be felt by those actually involved in the supposed advance. The young are born into the advancing circumstances, the old take them for granted within a few months or years, advances aren’t felt as advances. There is no gratitude -- only irritation if, for any reason, the newly invented conveniences break down. Men don’t spend their time thanking God for cars; they only curse when the carburetor is choked.’ He closed the book and returned to the top-hat of 1907.

There was a sound of footsteps and, looking up, he saw Helen Ledwidge approaching with those long springing strides of hers... Under the wide hat her face was bright with the reflection from her flame-coloured beach pyjamas. As though she were in hell. And in fact, he went on to think, she was there. The mind is its own place; she carried her hell about with her. The hell of her grotesque marriage; other hells, too, perhaps. But he had always refrained from enquiring too closely into their nature, had always pretended not to notice when she herself offered to be his guide through their intricacies. Enquiry and exploration would land him in heaven-knew-what quagmire of emotion, what sense of responsibility. And he had no time, no energy for emotions and responsibilities. His work came first. Suppressing his curiosity, he went on stubbornly playing the part he had long since assigned himself - the part of the detached philosopher, of the preoccupied man of science who doesn’t seen the things that to everyone else are obvious. He acted as if he could detect in her face nothing but its external beauties of form and texture. Whereas, of course, flesh is never wholly opaque; the soul shows through the walls of its receptacle. Those clear grey eyes of hers, that mouth with its delicately lifted upper lip, were hard and almost ugly with a resentful sadness.

There was a convention between them that there should never be any fuss; not even the fuss of saying good-morning. No fuss at all.

... “Not working?” she asked in surprise. It was so rare to find him otherwise than immersed in books and papers. He shook his head. "No sociology today.” “What are you looking at?” Standing by his chair, she bent over the scattered snapshots. “At my old corpses.” He handed her the ghost of the dead Etonian. After studying it for a moment in silence, “You looked nice then.” she commented. ... “[Y]ou looked really sweet then. Touching. “But I still am,” Anthony protested, smiling up at her. She looked at him for a moment in silence. Under the thick dark hair the forehead was beautifully smooth and serene, like the forehead of a meditative child. Childish too, in a more comical way, was the short short, slightly tilted nose. Between their narrowed lids the eyes were alive with inner laughter, and there was a smile also about the corners of the lips - a faint ironic smile that in some sort contradicted what the lips seemed in their form to express. They were full lips, finely cut; voluptuous and at the same time grave, sad, alwmost tremulously sensitive. Lips as though naked in their brooding sensuality; without defence of their own and abandoned to their helplessness by the small, unaggressive chin beneath. “The worst of it is,” Helen said at last, “that you’r eright. You are sweet, you are touching. God knows why. Beautiful you oughtn’t to be. It’s all a swindle really, a trick for getting people to like you on false pretences.” “Come! “You make them give you something for nothing.” “But at least I’m always perfectly frank about its being nothing. I never pretend it’s a Grand Passion.” He rolled the ri and opened the as grotesquely. “Not even a Wahlverwandschaft,” he added, dropping into German, so as to make all this romantic business of affinities and violent emotions sound particularly ridiculous. “Just a bit of fun.” “Jus ta bit of fun,” helen echoed ironically, thinking, as she spoke, of that period at the beginning of the affair, when she had stood, so to speak on the threshold of being in love with him - on the threshold, waiting to be called in. But how firmly (for all his silence and studied gentleness), how definitely and decidedly he had shut the door against her! He didn’t want to be loved. For a moment she had been on the verge of rebellion; then, in that spirit of embittered and sarcastic resignation with which she had learned to face the world, she accepted his conditions. They were the more acceptable since there was no better alternative in sight; since, after all, he was a remarkable man and, after all, she was very fond of him; since, also he knew how to give her at least a physical satisfaction. “Just a bit of fun,” she repeated, and gave a little snort of laughter. Anthony shot a glance at her, wondering uncomfortably whether she meant to break the tacitly accepted agreement between them and refer to some forbidden topic. But his fears were unjustified. “Yes, I admit it,” she went on after a little silence. “You’re honest all right. But that doesn’t alter the fact that you’re always getting something for nothing. Call it an unintentional swindle. Your face is your fortune, I suppose. Handsome is as handsome doesn’t, in your case.”

“There ought to be some way of getting rid of one’s superfluous memories. How I hate old Proust! Really detest him.” And with a richly comic eloquence he proceeded to evoke the vision of that asthmatic seeker of lost time squatting, horribly white and flabby, with breasts almost female but fledged with long black hairs, for ever squatting in the tepid bath of his remembered past. And all the stale soapsuds of countless previous washings floated around im, all the accumulated dirty of yeras lay crusty on the sides of the tub or hung in dark suspension in the water. And there he sat, a pale repellent invalid, taking up spongefuls of his own thick soup and squeezing it over his face, scooping up cupfuls of it and appreciatively rolling the grey and gritty liquor round his mouth, gargling, rinsing his nostrils with it, like a pious Hindu in the Ganges... “You talk about him,” said Helen, “as if he were a personal enemy.”

#anthony beavis #aldous huxley #eyeless in gaza

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weedconsortium2 · 5 years

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If you’ve never listened to Chris Webby’s music–you should. In a world where the hip-hop arena is dominated by trappers and mumble rappers with tattoos on their faces and little substance to their lyrics, Webby’s well-rounded bars shine like a beacon in the dark.

Webby became a viral star last year after dropping an amazing freestyle over Dr. Dre’s “What’s The Difference” during an interview with Sway Calloway on SiriusXM. He killed it, dissing “new school” MCs and slaying crooked policy-makers:

Remember the name, C-Web, I spit sickly, I got my competition breathing hard as Chris Christie.

Beyond free-styling, Webby is a great writer. A good intro to his music can be found in his “Raw Thoughts” series, a rap trilogy where he lists all the people he does not like and explains his reasons. In the first song of this trilogy, Webby puts “scummy politicians”—as he calls them—to shame.

It’s hard not to crack up over his slick burns, as he calls the former anti-weed Attorney General Jeff Sessions an “old Smurf,” promising to “light up a doobie” on his “turf.”

As one explores Webby’s music, it’s obvious this guy is all about weed. His albums Homegrown, The Checkup, and Wednesday all feature marijuana leaves on the cover art. Webby also recorded a few odes to pot, with his recent song “Sativa” featuring famous stoner B-Real of Cypress Hill:

This sh*t is sublime. Hit it and lift up your mind. The most specific of kinds, Particular strains I’m smoking during daytime Got me feeling high and energetic at the same damn time.

Feeling the urge to talk weed with this verbose, pot-loving rapper, High Times hit up Webby to meet up.

Webby’s Love of Weed

Webby says he grew up in a weed-friendly house. His dad was a musician, and his mom was a middle school teacher. They were respected members of the community and enjoyed a good ol’ joint every once in a while.

“I caught them when I was really young and, obviously, at the time they didn’t want me to smoke weed,” Webby tells High Times. “So, when they caught me in the eighth grade, they scolded me. They were right too. They explained my brain wasn’t done forming yet. Weed is for adults.”

But, as he got older, his love of pot could no longer be contained or hidden.

“Nowadays, I smoke weed with my parents,” he says. “I think that being in that sort of a household allowed me to realize marijuana isn’t a bad thing and that people like my mom, a school teacher for more than 30 years, a pillar of society, could use it and still be good, productive people.”

Over time, Webby didn’t just develop a love of weed and a passion for advocacy, he also developed a deep understanding of the strains that best work for him.

“There’s no doubt that different types of weed will put you in different types of places,” he says. “I have my bedtime weed, I have [my] when-I-want-to-write weed, I have a nice sativa for when it’s creative time, and a nice heavy indica when I’m ready to go to bed and just need something to help me get there.”

Best. Joint. Ever

Over a long conversation, Webby discussed politicians, opioids, his ADHD and use of Adderall, and many other topics. At one point, we decided to go for a classic cannabis enthusiast question: What’s the story of the best joint you’ve ever smoked?

“Well, that one’s a thinker,” he says. “Let me think for a while. In the meantime, let me tell you the story about the guy who taught me how to roll a joint. I was in high school and I went on vacation with my buddy Nick to an island called Bequia, in the Caribbean. It’s a very small island and his family knew somebody who lived there, so we went and stayed with them.”

“I remember we would walk around this island, we met everybody, and we befriended this young Rasta named Linton. I would say was probably about 25 [years-old] or so. Linton was the fucking man. He showed us around a bunch of nights and he was always rolling joints. Up to this point, I had remained pretty unsuccessful at rolling a good joint. Linton broke it down for me and he not only taught me how to roll a joint, [but] he also taught me how to roll a joint while on the move. We walked around town and he had me rolling joints until I got it right.”

“To this day, I still use Linton’s rolling technique.”

‘Yo, Hillary’

Moving away from cannabis, we returned to “Raw Thoughts” rap. In that song, Webby does not only destroys Jeff Sessions, but he also incinerates other well-known conservative politicians like Ted Cruz (whose face puts him in a “crappy mood”) and former Environmental Protection Agency Administrator Scott Pruitt—promising to “build a pipeline through his wooden kitchen cabinets.” At one point, Webby unexpectedly recites:

But, yo, Hillary. Really? You think that I wouldn’t mention you Just ’cause I tend to be liberal with all my general views? But you’re an evil lady; [I’ll] say it ’cause I got to. I’m down to have a woman President. Just not you! You Claire Underwood-ass bitch, you wicked witch Lyin’ through your fuckin’ teeth every single chance that you get…

We asked if he was really down to have a woman president. After all, “Raw Thoughts II” is a feminist-as-hell song:

Bill O’Reilly says he’s sorry but really none of us buy it, You can’t pay me off like all of those women to keep me quiet. Who cares if he denies it, I’ll still come for him… I’ll teach that old prick to treat women with respect When I jam a pair of stainless steel scissors in his neck… Old, gross, and crusty, outdated, and rusty, Out of shape and husky. Do you know how to tell if Bill O’Reilly’s near? When you hear a woman scream: “Don’t touch me!”

“Absolutely,” he unhesitantly responded. “I think a female in the White House could be a great thing. I think that Hillary Clinton is a very poor representation of what a female in America truly is; I think she is a corrupt politician like the rest of them… And, at that point, why even put a gender on it?”

“She is the same as them,” he continues. “She is a horrible person and horrible people cannot be defined by male and female. But I think a woman in the White House could actually be a great thing. I think women think differently [and] tend to be more compassionate [and] tend to sit back and think before they act a little bit more than testosterone-driven men… There are there are differences between men and women. I’m all for equal everything, but beyond all that there is the difference between a man and a female, going back to what we are as a species, before all this society stuff came into play.”

So, what about women in cannabis? What makes the cannabis industry more receptive to women? Why are there more C-Suite female executives in cannabis than in most other industries?

“I think the marijuana industry just attracts a lot of people like us; just cooler individuals who are just with it… Of course, women can be in charge of stuff. For me, that’s a no brainer.

“I think that’s one of the coolest things about marijuana: it brings cool people together. Through my life I’ve met some of the most incredible people through just smoking a joint.”

Keep up to date with all things Webby by following him on Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter.

The post Chris Webby Talks About Hillary Clinton and His Long Love Affair With Weed appeared first on High Times.

The post Chris Webby Talks About Hillary Clinton and His Long Love Affair With Weed appeared first on CBD Oil Vape Liquid Spray - Cbd Pain Relief Capsules - Weed Consortium.

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