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sassycassie-s-writing · 3 years

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My Favorite Smile

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-11/T- (this one has a couple ✨swear words✨ in it lol. I don’t usually write them out, but sometimes you just gotta say what you mean)

Original Idea: X (Obsessed with this channel right now)

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) 2,182 words... it’s a longer one again. I casually wrote this in, like, two hours. @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

Holding his coffee and croissant, Jason looked around the crowded café for a place to sit. Every table was occupied by at least one person, and the rules of personal space in public said the couches were full, with one person sitting on either end.

His eyes fell on a table with a single occupant.

His heart stuttered to a stop. Wait… is that her? Damn, she looks good this time. He scoffed at himself. Who am I kidding? She looks good every time. Should I talk to her? Should I tell her? She didn’t believe me last time… and I don’t know if I can stand another lifetime without her… but last life we didn’t meet till I was almost fifty. I really wasn’t expecting to find her this early.

He straightened up and strode over to her table. “Excuse me, is it alright if I sit here? The café’s pretty crowded and the other tables are full.”

She looked up and Jason’s brain stopped working as she met his eyes. She was just as incredible as she always was. Thousands upon thousands of years, and he still never got over how beautiful she was. “Sure, go ahead,” she said with a smile before going back to her phone.

—

“I’m Jason, by the way,” the man said, sitting down.

I glanced back up and gave him my name in return.

He smiled. He had a handsome smile. Just looking at him… something tugged in the back of my mind. “That’s a pretty name,” he said.

My ears warmed and I looked away. “Thanks,” I muttered. I looked back at him. “Sorry if this sounds… weird—but have we met before?” I cringed but smiled. If we had…oh it’d be so embarrassing if I’d forgotten him. And a man as handsome as him—how could I have forgotten?

But a look of delight crossed his face, before being replaced by one of neutrality. “Not in this lifetime,” he replied.

“Kind of an odd way to word it,” I remarked before I could overthink whether that sounded really rude or not.

Jason’s ears turned red. “Well… yeah I guess so. Sorry.” He looked down at his coffee cup and croissant and chose to take a sip of his drink. After swallowing, he looked back up at me. “This is probably gonna sound really creepy, but please just hear me out for a few minutes. Do you believe in soulmates?”

I reached up and scratched an itch just behind my ear. “I mean… kind of? I think maybe they exist for some people, and other people could be matched equally well with multiple potential partners,” I said.

His shoulders slouched with a sigh of what might have been relief. “Thank goodness,” he said. He met my eyes. “Because… we’re soulmates. You and I. Sometimes—very rarely—two people are so destined to be together, that they’re reborn over and over to stay together throughout thousands of years’ worth of lifetimes. Sometimes we both remember, sometimes only one of us does. I don’t think there’s ever been a lifetime where neither of us remember. Besides the first, I guess. Back when we didn’t know we’d be reborn. We never look the same twice—different bodies, different backgrounds. But we always have the same soul.”

A reasonable person would have thought he was making up a really long, bad pickup line. But I stared at him with rapt attention. Like some missing puzzle piece I’d been looking for my entire life fell into place. It just sounded… right.

“How do we find each other, if we look different every time?”

He took a deep breath. “Well… when one or both of us remember, we can… kind of sense it? Kind of see it? Like, right now, I see you, but I also see every face of yours that I’ve seen across every lifetime.” He cleared his throat. “Sometimes we don’t. Find each other, I mean. The distance between where we’re born or the timing of our rebirths keep us apart. But there’s only been… three of those, if I remember right.” He laughed. “So glad you believed me this time. It would have sucked if you got a restraining order—because those are a thing now—and I had to spend this life without you.”

I leaned forward, shoving my phone in my pocket. “Tell me more,” I said.

“Where do you want me to start?”

“Um… I don’t know. The beginning? Our first life?”

He nodded. “Ancient Greece,” he said. “Like, really early in Ancient Greece’s history. The gods blessed us. Bound our souls for eternity. Your hair is actually the same color now as it was back then. Kind of a… nostalgic favorite of mine. You’re absolutely stunning every time I see you, but I have some favorites. You do too.”

I snickered. “Oh really? Like what?”

“Well… I always think you’re adorable with dimples or freckles. Green eyes are a favorite of mine too. And your current hair color is my favorite. There were also a few times where you were a little taller than me. Those were nice. You’re most comfortable to hug that way. But, without fail, every single lifetime I see your smile and I think, ‘That one. That one’s my new favorite.’” He chuckled. “As for you, you’ve told me that you like me best with brown eyes—even though you don’t like brown eyes normally. Um… you also like it when my hair is curly.” He gestured to his black hair, slightly curled, with two white curls arcing down the center of his forehead. “You told me… seven lifetimes ago? That you like me best with piercings and tattoos, but when I brought it up last lifetime you said even when I have them I still look like, and I quote, a ‘giant nerd.’”

We both laughed. Jason sighed and shook his head.

“Then again, you said that was your favorite during our pirate lifetime. And I can also say hot damn you looked good with tattoos and a big hat.”

I gasped out a laugh. “We were pirates?”

He laughed too. “Yeah. Well, you were. To start with, anyway. You and your crew were visiting my town and you, absolutely drunk, stumbled into my house. I was a carpenter that time. Thank the gods we both remembered that lifetime or I probably would have shot you. You spent half the night drunkenly blathering about how much you hated my hair when it was long the way it was and that you’d cut it off if I didn’t. The next morning, when you’d sobered up, you apologized. And I’d said it was fine. And… you asked me to come with you. I’ve spent dozens of lifetimes endlessly in love with you. So, like the lovesick fool I am and was, I said yes.

“It… was not a long lifetime. Pirates rarely made it to old age. We were both killed when a Royal Navy ship attacked us. I went down first. You told me in our next lifetime that you single-handedly killed half of that crew’s sailors in revenge even though you knew you’d see me again—because you’d been having so much fun that life and they ruined it. Eventually their captain killed you himself.” He took a bite of his croissant.

It was certainly a lot to take in. But everything he said was so vivid… I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination coming up with the images or… memories that had merely been locked away somewhere deep inside. The sea. The deck of a ship. An octopus tattoo on my left forearm, tentacles reaching to the back of my hand, a similar one on his tanned, scarred neck. Curly auburn hair, a scruffy beard. Brown leather coat and blood under his nails. Pierced ear and eyebrow. A tattoo of a mermaid with a face and wild hair that I knew must have been mine on his right thigh as we found alone time together in my cabin—a pile of leather clothes in a heap on the floor, topped by a big hat with a big feather.

I met his eyes again. “Tell me about another one.”

He smiled. “Well… there was another time I was a soldier. You remembered. I didn’t. I passed through your town on my way to report for duty, and the weather got bad. Your family owned a tavern that doubled as an inn. So, that was where I stayed. You didn’t tell me. I fell in love with you anyway. You would tell me stories and sing for me and make me food in private. When the weather improved, I went off to war and, miraculously, I survived. Even though I spent most of my time that fight thinking about you. I came back to your inn and asked you to marry me. You said yes. We were married soon after. I had to leave a lot. Fighting battles I didn’t care about. Eventually, I came home injured and dying. You held my hand and promised you’d see me soon. I thought you meant heaven or just said it to comfort me. You never told me we were endlessly-reborn soulmates.

“When I was about fifteen my next lifetime, all my memories came back. We both remembered that time, actually. When we ran into each other again we got into such a big argument about you not telling me. Literally picked up right where we left off. Two twenty-year-olds bickering like the old married couple we were. The life after I don’t remember is always a bit of a wild ride as all my memories come back. I imagine it’s similar for you. It’ll be similar for you.”

He reached across the table and took my hand. I squeezed his fingers. Our hands fit together perfectly. I wondered why I’d told him I liked him best with brown eyes when his blue eyes were absolutely gorgeous. “So… what now?” I asked.

He made a face. “Beginnings are always hard when one of us doesn’t remember. Because I have thousands of years of love for you, and you don’t even know me.” His fingers tightened around mine. “I’d like to take you out on a date, if you’ll let me.”

“Does it count as a first date?”

He smiled. It was a sad smile. “It can. It does for this life.”

“Have we… ever had children? Together?”

Jason regarded me thoughtfully. “We have,” he said. “But our bloodlines never last long. Usually we’re lucky to get great-grandchildren. We’re blessed to be together forever, but our families die off quickly. You speculated once that it’s the blessing’s attempt to make sure we’re not reborn into our own bloodline.”

“So we have no living descendants.”

“No. It’d be a little weird if we did. Like ‘Hey, kiddo, you’re our great-great-great-grandson! I know we’re younger than you but trust us!’” Jason laughed.

I could get drunk on that laugh. “I’d… I’d like to go on that date.”

He looked elated—and relieved. “Me too. I’d like to get to know you again.” He glanced around the crowded café. “What do you say we get out of here and go somewhere quiet and I can tell you more stories about our lives? You’ve always been the far superior storyteller, but I learned from the best.”

I smiled. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here. I want to hear everything.”

He helped me to my feet. I gathered my jacket, cup, and phone. “Great. I can’t wait to tell you about the time I was a magician.”

I giggled. “My place or yours?”

“Mine. I have a memento from our most recent past life that I tracked down. I’d like you to have it.”

“What is it?”

Jason didn’t answer immediately. Just held my hand as we left the café. Gotham’s overcast autumn sky was chilly. “I… I want it to be a surprise but I’m also too excited to tell you.” He bit his lower lip, staring at me. “Gah. Fine. It’s your wedding ring. I found it at an antique shop not far from where our oldest niece lived. We didn’t have any kids, last life. We didn’t meet till I was forty-nine and you were forty-three. We both decided it was too late for kids. But I had a few nieces and nephews. Our oldest niece was in charge of our estate. We died in the eighties. But I found your ring. You can use it again, eventually, if you want. Or we can get you a new one.” His face reddened. “I don’t mean to presume. But I don’t know if I can live without you this lifetime after having you for such a short time last life.”

I squeezed his hand. “Let’s try that first date first. I feel this pull toward you I can’t explain, but we’ll build up to the soulmate thing. Okay?” I smiled at him.

—

Jason couldn’t help but stare at her. Those eyes, that stunning face. This one, he thought. This smile is my favorite.

#My Favorite Smile #Jason Todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #Red Hood #red hood imagine #red hood fanfiction #DC #DC imagine #dc fanfiction #BatFam #batfam imagine #batfam fanfiction

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chronicbatfictioner · 3 years

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Exchanges and Compromises - Chapter 17

Jason was having the time of his life.

Dick was sure of it. He might grump and sulk a lot more than before, but Dick was sure that he was having fun. Sure, guarding Damian might be a little more than tasking, after a while - especially since Damian was so certain that he could face Bane alone if it comes down to it, conveniently ignoring the fact that: a. he's ten and practically one-tenth of Bane's size; b. the Waynes most likely would detest having to clear intestines off the marble floor if Damian were to be let near a katana and/or Bane, and c. Alfred definitely would detest cleaning intestines or parts of Damian off the floor or walls.

And d. Bruce Wayne seemed to actually enjoy having Damian around and has no qualm in talking to Damian as if he was twice his age. Bruce's age, that is. Not Damian's. Dick suspected that Bruce has spent a lot of time talking to 60-year-olds.

But there were numerous forms of excitement that were offered by the Wayne Manor. First and foremost were the cars. Dick has never learned to drive - being a Talon kind of impeded the learning process of 'common human things'. Jason, however, was an excellent driver. He had mentioned something about being a getaway driver in warzones, and Dick couldn't be sure if he was telling the truth or joking. Either way, he rather enjoyed it whenever he and Jason had to take Damian somewhere in town.

Except for today, as somebody seemed to have tampered with the car.

It wouldn't brake, and they were cruising really, really fast.

Hence Dick's belief that Jason was having fun. He did not look perturbed at the slightest as he controlled the car, swerving crazily over the backroads, making sharp u-turns instead of going into the city roads and went back where they came from. Within a mile from the Drake House's gate, Jason finally managed to cut down the speed to the point where the car's engines died and it rolled to a stop. On the Drake House's gate.

"Seriously, people," Tim remarked dryly as they walked in - leaving the car at the gate and settling their respective adrenaline back down. "I've heard of visiting the neighbors, but must you be like, dying and/or damaging people's property before you come here to say hi?"

"The car was tampered with," Damian reported. "Must be the brute. And I shall replace your gate, Drake."

"I think I'm down to like, eight lives. No-- seven." Dick admitted, "my heart's still beating a hundred miles per minute. Good thing, though, at least that way I know I'm quite alive."

"Dick, you're a bird. Not a cat." Tim deadpanned. His eyes never leaving Jason, who had lit up a cigarette as he walked through the house. "Since when do you smoke?"

"Since I was eleven," Jason replied. "And since I walked into a house that has laser triggers that were set up by a lunatic. Smoke worked to reveal them all."

"I'm... partially scowling because smoking kills. But I suppose laser triggers would kill faster..." Tim replied.

"The lasers are used to trigger booby traps just about Damian's height. If he were to be a common kid and run around the house, he'd be decapitated within the first few days." Jason continued bitterly. "What the fuck is wrong with that giant lump of steroids, anyway? He was ready to kill a child!"

"The nutshell version is that the child would prevent his usurping the Waynes' wealth." Tim pointed out. "The long version is that I don't think he's really the child of Dr Wayne, the Waynes know of it, and they're literally being held hostage in their own home. Also, you people are being watched, too, by drones. I've asked Harper to kill those drones for entering my property."

Tim then explained Bruce's visit and the USB. "Oracle has contacted him and told him we... the Birds, that is - are investigating the evidence."

"How long until we can punch the asshole out of the house for good?" Jason demanded, accepting a bottle of water Tim handed him. Slowly and gently. Making sure his fingers brushed Tim's. And Dick had to swallow a grin.

"That, unfortunately, would be up to the GCPD. Did you guys saw the news? Vicky Vale's article on Damian?" Tim... preened a little, waving his hair as he walked away from Jason. Dick's lips itched, he wondered if Barbara or the other girls -- if Selina or Dinah have noticed this. The two were definitely flirting.

"I have seen it. It had good pictures of my mother and grandfather, and quite... adequate descriptions of both of them." Damian replied. "Evidently father has made a comment to the writer about me looking like him when he was my age."

"Well, you kind of do look like him, except for the green eyes." Dick pointed out. Bruce's eyes were blue - like both his parents. But from the photos of little Brucie around the house, Dick could see a little of Martha Wayne in Damian's still-round face. "When did Bruce make the comment?"

"Oh, Vale called him." Tim snickered. "She still has his personal number, and she commented something about hearing a - quote: 'constipated buffalo sounds in the background' - unquote. She was also wondering if Bruce was in a bullfighting ring somewhere."

"Seriously?" Dick laughed.

"Seriously. Even Barbara couldn't stop laughing hearing that." Tim assured him. Jason rolled his eyes but looking amused, anyway.

"Sooo... a possible off-road accident for the apparent heir is in the books?" Jason suggested.

"I won't put it past Bane. Damian...?" Tim started. But Damian already nodded in acknowledgment.

"I shan't eat anything that is not presented by Todd or Grayson, nor will I frolic the manor on my own. This shall be more to bear witness to your insinuation of my 'child-like' behavior than to take care of me, Drake, as I am quite capable of sustaining my own life." Damian scoffed.

Tim paused visibly for a good two seconds, before nodding, "of course. Furthermore, I can assure you that Alfred is safe, mainly because as a butler, his focal interest would be the actual Waynes. That's in his training - unless an offspring is publicly announced, they are not to be cared for by the Butler. In Wayne Manor, the proverbial child would solely be Bruce - for obvious reasons, and Damian, whom Bruce has publicly acknowledged." Tim explained.

"He was in MI6," Jason remarked. "Alfred, that is. Not Bane. It would be safe to say he's loyal. He told me of the booby traps and that Bane has a daily dose of injection of the steroid-like substance. But I-- we shall prepare you emergency rations - just in case, anyway."

"You guys can always drop by here. And don't think that Damian would be Bane's only target." Tim reminded. "If I was him, I'd take out the big guns - that is you two - first; and then Bruce, because he'll want to be protective of his son; and then Dr and Mrs Wayne last."

"Then I'm afraid you are forgetting one of the members of the household that is most dangerous, Master Tim," a voice spoke; Jason pulled out his gun, Damian automatically hid behind him while pulling out a small dagger.

Dick wanted to lunge right toward the source of the voice until he realized that it was Alfred Pennyworth, both hands raised up to show that he was unarmed.

"How...?" Jason growled, "I didn't hear the front door open."

"Apologies, gentlemen. I should have informed you that there is an underground passageway between the two houses that were once used frequently, but now has all been forgotten." Alfred explained. "You were right that I was in MI6, Jason; as you were right that my focus will and forever shall remain the true Wayne blood, Master Tim. Not ones who claimed as such and refused to provide irrefutable evidence."

"Does Bane know of this passageway?" Tim asked.

"It is located in the staff's wing, and as he is not permitted to be there, I sincerely doubt it," Alfred replied. "I have my own... booby traps and surveillance that should tell me if anyone has been there." he smiled. "I am aware that both of you have prowled the entire house at one point or the other in the past few weeks." he nodded toward Jason and Dick. "You were stealthy, indeed."

"But not stealthy enough?" Dick quipped. "I gotta go back to training... Anyway, why are you here?"

"I saw your vehicle's mishap and its stop here. If anything, Bane is not... stealthy enough." Alfred pulled out a small memory card. "To get to the garage, one must pass the servants' hall. And the garage is my province."

Tim accepted the memory card, plugged it into his cellphone; and then projected its content to a wall. "Huh... this should be enough evidence of tampering..." Tim commented. The memory card showed a clear date stamp - that morning, a few hours before Bane and the Waynes left the house. It also showed Bane himself, jacking the car that was now resting with a dented bumper at Tim's gate, while holding a plier.

"Anyone watching our car now?" Dick commented. "Won't be cool to have it suddenly fixed, will it?"

"Harper should be. Plus, y'all are on my property. If he trespasses, I'll have his ass arrested." Tim huffed. "So... if anyone has ideas--" Jason and Damian's eyes lit up; Tim glared at them and continued "--that do not include sharp and/or exploding objects of how to remove Bane from the Manor..."

"I'm fresh out," Jason replied mournfully. "No sharp objects, no exploding objects... what do you expect me to do? Poison him?"

"But Todd, did my mother not teach you the arts of food as medicine?" Damian piped up.

The sudden silence as all eyes landed on Alfred was quite ominous.

"I will not conduct a crime, young masters," Alfred remarked dryly.

"Oh nooo... not a crime," Jason grinned mischievously. "It's just... you know that Damian was born in the Middle East, yeah?"

"I may have quite a culinary skill, but I fear that my Middle Eastern cuisine knowledge is rather limited," Alfred said demurely.

"Well, mine isn't." Jason grinned. "Besides, what else should one do to celebrate one's entrance into such a distinguished family; but hold a family dinner?"

"You're going to poison him." Dick groaned.

"Not to death!" Jason protested. Dick gave him an unimpressed glare. "Just... to the point where he would realize that he and I have opposing objectives."

"Do let me know of the ingredients you require, Jason." Alfred intoned. "Or perhaps you prefer to shop on your own? I shall fetch a new, un-tampered-with vehicle."

"Oh, please do, Alfred. I doubt we can make a single trip. But they will be fun." Jason replied, grinning.

Dick knew that the sense of foreboding was not in him only. Tim looked like he was contemplating moving away to Alaska.

"For the records, I don't know anything about cooking," Dick said defensively.

"I'm... truly and fully reconsidering my life choices," Tim admitted.

"Oh, don't worry, Drake. Todd was trained by the best," Damian grinned mischievously. "I pity the fools who think him as a brute. I pity the brute who think that small equals weak."

#Batless!AU #JayTim #Dick Grayson #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #Alfred Pennyworth #stray!tim #RedGhost!Jason #Talon!Dick

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lady-divine-writes · 3 years

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Kurtbastian - “Always and Forever” Chapter 2

After the death of their daughter Grace, Kurt and Sebastian drift apart. Kurt wraps himself up in his grief so tightly he starts to push Sebastian away, and Sebastian, feeling himself shoved aside when he needs Kurt most, cheats. They make the decision to start over, to leave New York City and their pain behind, and start over again in a house Upstate. Sebastian buys Kurt a "fixer upper" and gives him free reign. While redecorating the room that will be his studio, Kurt comes across something interesting underneath the wallpaper. It starts to become an obsession for Kurt - an obsession that begins to replace Kurt's love for his husband, which Sebastian is holding on to by a thread. Can Kurt and Sebastian break through the pain and the hurt and find a way to fall in love again?

Read on AO3

Chapter 2 (5061 words)

The first evening in their new house becomes a long, exhaustive dance of unpacking and cleaning in preparation for the movers to arrive in the morning. What, in the past, would have been an upbeat two-step of flirting in the hallways while lugging in suitcases, punctuated by the occasional stop, dip, and smooch, is now a formal, boxy waltz, with Sebastian giving Kurt a wide-berth whenever he hears his husband coming, and Kurt pausing in doorways, eyes darting elsewhere when Sebastian passes by.

The rush to clear the dirt away and make things suitable for the furniture they chose to bring with them affords Kurt ample opportunities to send Sebastian on a host of errands, ensuring him stretches of time that he can spend alone to reflect and think.

Consider the past and plan for the future.

Even after the furniture arrives, they should have tons of space left. They had decided not to bring everything they own with them. They aren’t selling their penthouse. Keeping it furnished for the odd trip back seems like the practical thing to do. So, they only packed those things that they absolutely could not live without.

They didn’t bring any of the furniture from Grace's room. That Kurt donated to the Salvation Army with the exception of one item – a Winnie the Pooh lamp that he had found in mint condition, ironically, at the Salvation Army, on the day he and Sebastian found out their surrogate was pregnant. It's ceramic, hand-painted, with Christopher Robin and Winnie the Pooh sitting back to back as the base, each holding a handful of balloons. One red balloon, larger than the rest, contains the bulb, the colored plastic lending a rosy tint to its glow. Along the bottom edge are written the words: “If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart, I’ll stay there forever.”

Kurt’s mother had read him Winnie the Pooh books his entire childhood. He could recite most of A. A. Milne’s writings by the time he turned eight.

The year his mother passed away.

He'd read those same books to his daughter. She’d had them mostly memorized, too.

Seven hours of scrubbing, sanitizing, and (for Sebastian) racing around town wipe the two of them out, to the point where falling asleep is simply a matter of inflating an air mattress and putting heads down on pillows. They had picked up a Queen size one at a JCPenney along the way. It’s nowhere near as luxurious as the custom-made King size bed currently stuck in the back of an Allied Moving Truck, waiting to take a journey on the 495. This mattress is a tighter fit than they’re used to. It doesn’t help that the thing sinks in the middle whenever one of them rolls over. With the both of them measuring six-foot-plus tall, they have to lie in the fetal position to fit comfortably, which would require them to spoon. But Kurt finds a way to keep himself out of his husband’s arms.

The material the mattress is made out of seems perpetually ice-cold, not warming up a touch with their combined body heat, which Kurt didn’t anticipate. They have the gas and electricity switched on, but there’s something wrong with the central heating. They don’t have the requisite amount of blankets to keep from freezing, which adds to the misery. Despite being pissed at Sebastian, Kurt doesn’t have the heart to send him out at one a.m. to the 24-hour Walmart, so he closes his eyes and resigns himself to suffering until dawn.

For the next five hours, Kurt’s mind stays blank. No noise, no dreams, and no flashbacks, thank God. It’s not restful, but it’s the best he could have hoped for. The last half a year has not been conducive to dreaming. The nightmares keep coming, one after the other, the next one worse than the last, shaking him to his core until he jars awake with a pain in his chest like someone had tried, in steel boots, to stomp him into the dirt. But waking up doesn’t solve the problem. He doesn’t know what he hates worse – waking up weeping in his husband’s arms or waking up weeping alone.

Kurt’s feelings for Sebastian are complicated when he thinks they shouldn’t be. Kurt should either love him and forgive him or hate him and move on. But he loves him and hates him. His hands itch to hold him, but a second later, he wants to shove him away. He wants to go, but he can’t imagine leaving.

As much as it sucks, Kurt can’t imagine living without him.

He would prefer to go back to being shamelessly and hopelessly in love with him. Hating him has become a crutch. But it’s enough to get him through. Regardless of that fact, which should tie up the loose ends, mend the hurts and cool the hate, it doesn’t, because Kurt can’t find a way to forgive him.

A well-meaning Facebook friend had told Kurt over Messenger that the problem was Kurt’s pride had been hurt by Sebastian cheating. Push the pride aside and get over it. Ultimately, the marriage is more important. Then he said something about Kurt putting on his “big boy” pants, mentioned God, and quoted the Bible.

A minute later, Kurt blocked him.

That’s another blessing of moving - leaving behind the get over it already crowd. He hates them more than the forever sorry folks. The people who tell him to move on, to get over it, to put it behind him, don’t really care about him. They want him to stop complaining, as if they’re obligated to follow him on social media, and that puts the burden on him, in turn, to make them feel comfortable.

Maybe some of them do care, but not enough to put themselves in his shoes and understand that it’s just not that easy. Being on the outside of the swamp and looking in at a man who’s drowning, yelling at him to grab a branch and pull himself free, is different than being the man stuck hip-deep in mud that feels like cement and losing a fight that’s beyond his control.

Sometimes, as a matter of self-preservation, you simply give up.

Kurt doesn’t know who Sebastian slept with. He has his suspicions, but he doesn’t know for sure, and Sebastian won’t confirm. He says it’s because he wants to put it behind him, forget it ever happened, and that infuriates Kurt. If sleeping with another man was something Sebastian would need to put behind him, why even do it? Or (and Kurt hates himself for thinking like this), if Sebastian didn’t want Kurt to dwell on it, why not take steps to ensure that Kurt wouldn’t find out? Sebastian, of all people, should have known that this would eat Kurt up inside. It’s the kind of thing he’d never let go of. Yes, Kurt would be devastated if he discovered the cheating and the cover-up years after the fact, but he’d be in a better place to mourn his marriage apart from mourning his daughter.

What Sebastian did was selfish on so many levels.

Kurt knows that sex isn’t love, but he can't help wondering – was there a moment in the middle of all of it, caught up in the kissing and the fucking, where it felt like love?

Kurt met Sebastian in high school. Kurt wasn’t just a virgin back then. Oh, no. He had created his own category of virgin for which he could have had a cape and costume custom made – Captain Super Prude. Sex was a taboo topic for him, so much so that his high school’s chastity club hated him.

Apparently, he set the bar too high, made them look loose in comparison.

As much as he had fantasized about finding a special someone who would sweep him off his feet, gently usher him into manhood by making soulful but passionate love to him, he preferred not to think about it too often or too in-depth. The "talk” between him and his father was a mortifying experience.

There were pamphlets involved.

He still has some of them.

When it came to finding a boyfriend, Sebastian wasn’t what Kurt had planned on at all. Where Kurt was attracted to debonair, old-school, gentlemanly types a few years older than himself, Sebastian was crass, rude, explicit, and a year younger. On top of that, he was (to coin a phrase stolen from one of Kurt’s best friends, Quinn) the biggest French whore of them all. Sebastian didn’t care for romance and he didn’t attach emotions to sex, but he definitely had a way of making men fall in love with him. Kurt Hummel and Sebastian Smythe were the two people in the world least likely to fall in love with one another. But according to Sebastian, he fell in love with Kurt long before Kurt fell in love with him.

Sebastian claimed that Kurt was the first man he had ever fallen in love with, and at first sight, no less.

He whispered those words in Kurt’s ear the first time they made love.

He said those exact words during his toast at their wedding.

He wrote them in every birthday, Christmas, and anniversary card he ever gave to Kurt.

He said them over Grace’s crib the night they brought her home.

“Look at this little thing, Kurt,” Sebastian had sighed, reaching out to stroke Grace’s cheek. “Our daughter. Is it ridiculous that I’ve only known her for two days and I’m already in love with her?

“Technically, nine months and two days. But, no. It’s not ridiculous.”

“I never thought I could fall so fast in love with another human being before I met you.”

“Really?”

“A-ha.” Sebastian smiled when Grace yawned, her whole mouth moving in a complete circle before she settled down again. “I fell in love with you the second I laid eyes on you. And then, well, it was all over for me.”

Those words, the memory of that happiness, breaks Kurt’s heart. Could it be possible that, after close to twenty years of marriage, after reciting those words so many times, they didn’t mean anything anymore? Had Sebastian found someone else he could fall in love with?

Kurt has asked, but Sebastian won’t answer that question. He says it’s insulting.

Whatever the answer, he probably thinks he’s doing his husband a kindness. What he’s really doing is prolonging the torture, not giving Kurt the information he needs to make a decision that he can stand behind. Every time Kurt looks at his husband, he sees touches on his skin that don’t belong to him, kisses on his lips that he didn’t put there.

Kurt doesn’t know how to make himself see past them.

Instead, he looks away.

The second Kurt feels sunlight on his face, he’s out of bed. He grabs his messenger bag and pads down the hall to his studio before Sebastian can stir.

The room looks different with blurry morning sunlight bleeding through the windows. Kurt didn’t put black-out curtains up, and the sheer curtains that came with the house let fingers of light poke through, bouncing off the wallpaper and brightening the floor.

Yikes.

Kurt examines the floor now that he sees it clearly. It’s a mess - the wood warped as if someone had paced it incessantly. It had been varnished at one time. Spots of resin dot the boards like oily puddles. The wood itself (some variety of walnut, Kurt suspects) has blackened to a morbid pitch with age. It sucks up the light and gives little back.

“Oh, yeah,” Kurt murmurs, pressing around the brittle edge of one spot with his toe, watching it crackle into shards. “This has to be completely redone.”

He gets stuck on the idea that this room could have been his daughter’s if she were still alive. He and Sebastian had talked about raising Grace in a suburban environment, and as much as he regrets not giving her a house with a yard and room to grow, Kurt leaned heavily on the side of staying in the city. Some of his motives were selfish. He loved Manhattan. It had been his lifelong dream to end up there. He wanted his daughter to grow up with all of the things he didn’t – culture, diversity, theaters and libraries and museums a train ride away. He didn’t want her raised around the closed, narrow minds of small-town folk. He wanted her to be an independent thinker – liberated, rational, intelligent. But he also wanted her to be compassionate and kind. He wanted her to know the world, its wonders and its failings, the way it truly was, not the way it looked on a movie screen, and long to change it for the better. They participated in fundraisers, gathered donations for the homeless, and volunteered in soup kitchens.

Grace was a pure light, a driving force that, at her age, Kurt didn’t get the chance to be.

So in honor of her, he wants his workroom to be bright and colorful - a mixture of his vintage aesthetic and her fun-loving personality. He’ll paint the walls her favorite colors, put homages to her in the details, choose the furnishings she would have preferred.

Since this will be the room he spends most of his time in, he wants it to be everything about his daughter that he adored.

He opens his bag and pulls out his phone, checking the time. 6:08. The movers are supposed to arrive between eight a.m. and ten. But movers, electricians, plumbers, and cable guys never arrive on time. He fishes out his sketchbook, sits on the floor, and gets to work jotting down a layout. First things first, he decides where his drafting table will go, where he’ll store his bolts, where he’ll put his sewing machine, a spot for a work chair, marking places here and there for personal touches like his mother’s vanity, his first-ever dress form, a few of his awards...

And photographs. Lots and lots of photographs.

He didn’t keep photographs in his studio at Vogue. He had an obsession with keeping his private life private, which he doesn’t apologize for. Since he met clients there, he liked to keep that space impersonal. Nothing to get in the way, spark a conversation that might derail the job at hand.

Unlike Sebastian, who hung candids galore. He stuffed the most Godawful photographs from their high school and college years into collage frames and nailed them to every wall of his office, squeezing things like his degrees and diplomas into far corners so that those pictures could be prominently displayed. He said that people knew the Smythes by name and reputation. If anyone wanted to see his credentials, they could Google them. But when people walked into his office, he wanted them to know that first and foremost, he was a family man.

Sebastian knew from childhood that he would become a lawyer. He never dreamed he would be a father.

Or a husband.

Those were the two accomplishments he seemed the proudest of.

Kurt regrets not having more pictures of Grace hanging on his studio walls, her smiling face to look at every hour of every day, watching his meetings, overseeing his layouts. She was his good-luck charm, his missing puzzle piece. She deserved a place of honor.

Now, he’ll give her one.

His stomach growls as he works. A smell from somewhere tickles his nose, and he groans. Just a few more seconds of sketching on the hard ground, and he’ll grab a bite to eat… maybe. With his ass numb, he doesn’t see a reason to get up, and bedsides, he’s on a roll. Car doors closing and constant banging echo in, and he winces, his head throbbing from lack of sleep. Dammit! If it would just stop till he finishes! It’s hard enough to concentrate as is! He hopes this is a one-time-only thing. He’d hate to wake up to that cacophony every morning. If he ever decides to go outside and meet the neighbors, he’ll have to find a polite way of asking them not to do whatever that is before he has his morning coffee.

Of course, soundproofing is also an option.

“Kurt? Kurt, are you… ?”

Kurt shifts his legs underneath him. He lifts a hand to massage his shoulders. That mattress must have killed his back. His arms ache something fierce. Sitting on this floor doesn’t help, the uneven boards digging into his legs, but it’s not an impetus for him to stop.

Just one more minute.

One more minute of sketching out this room, and he’ll join the world. One more minute to get his thoughts straight. One more minute to brush aside the things that like to torture him. Forget that his mother died when he was eight, his stepbrother when he was eighteen. Forget that his father passed away three years ago and his daughter six months ago.

Not too long after, his husband cheated.

Five.

That’s how many things he had loved in this world more than himself.

Those are the things that he’d lost.

They were the things he needed to forget in order to make it through till the evening.

He’ll replace the insulation and the drywall, smother everything in a noise-proofing compound, then paint the walls in swirls of pink and gold. He’ll do the ceiling in shades of blue, indigo, and violet, like the sky at night, and cover it in crystals to represent stars the way Grace had wanted to do with her bedroom. Kurt had promised her he would the second everything was over, when they could risk her being around the debris and the fumes.

He has never broken a promise to Grace. He isn’t about to start.

He scribbles those notes in sloppy script in the margin of his paper, wipes tears with the back of his shaking hand. He tries to focus on specifics to bring himself back from the brink of a breakdown. He needs a good cry, but he doesn’t want the comforting that will go with it if Sebastian hears him. He can’t right now. Sebastian comforting Kurt turns into Kurt comforting him back, and Kurt only has the strength to handle one outburst.

“Kurt? Did you want to… ?”

Kurt waves a hand to shoo away the buzzing beside his ear, relieved when it doesn’t take much more than that.

In order to paint the walls, he’ll have to take the wallpaper down.

That brings to mind the corner of torn paper over by the window and the word written underneath.

Darling.

That corner offends him. Kurt keeps entertaining the thought that that word has nothing to do with Sebastian, that there is another layer of wallpaper underneath festooned with line art of flowers, along with quotes from various love poems sprinkled throughout, circa 1800s. But then that would make that one tear and that one word an incredible coincidence since darling is the pet name Sebastian has called Kurt since day one. When he started doing it, every time he said it, Kurt had an urge to sock him on the jaw.

He was a pain in the ass, even back then.

Did Sebastian actually think Kurt would fall for writing darling on the wall? After the things he said? After what he did?

Kurt’s hand trembles so badly, he smudges the ink on his page. He stops writing, takes a deep breath, and counts to ten. He closes his eyes and concentrates on the sun warming his face. It’s gone now when it was there a second ago, which is disconcerting, but he has to ignore that and calm down.

He has to relax.

He promised he’d give this marriage a chance, that he’d try to make this work. Sebastian, so far, has held up his part of the bargain. He’s given Kurt space. He’s listened to him vent uncontested. He’s let Kurt keep tabs on him – where he goes, when he’ll be back, with photo texts in between to prove that he is where he said he would be. Kurt has to give him the benefit of the doubt. If Sebastian extends an olive branch, Kurt should take it.

But did he want to?

“I didn’t hear you when you got up this morning.” Sebastian’s voice starts Kurt’s hand up again. He wants to look busy. He doesn’t want to be caught in a position where he has to give his husband his full attention.

He hasn’t forgotten everything yet.

“Well, you were dead to the world,” Kurt replies, distracted.

“I’m just saying, see? You won’t disturb me. You don’t need to put a bed in here.”

Kurt bobs his head back and forth, adding a place in his layout for a foldout out of spite. “We’ll see. It’s only been the one day.”

“That’s true.” The way Sebastian says it, it sounds like a challenge. A tired challenge. Like Sebastian knows he’s already lost. “So, you like the room?”

“Yeah. I think I do.”

“And what about the rest of the house?”

He doesn’t know why Sebastian sounds like he’s asking. It’s a done deal. They both agreed on a new house. Sebastian found one he thought Kurt would like and bought it. What? Are they going to back out now and magically move somewhere else?

Will moving around from house to house solve what’s wrong between them?

“It’s fine, I guess. I don’t know. I think it’s hard for me to visualize without taking the grand tour. I’ll be able to tell better when I get started decorating.”

“Are you gonna hire that guru guy to help you with the yin and yang stuff?” Sebastian jokes cautiously. “That Kung Fu guy… what’s his name… ?” Sebastian snaps his fingers as if he’s seriously trying to remember.

“He’s a Feng shui practitioner, and his name is Carl.”

“His name's Carl?” Sebastian laughs. “No no no, his name is not Carl. Carl is the name of a dentist. He’s not a guy you call to Wang Chung your house.”

“Feng shui,” Kurt corrects again. “I hired him to help me create balance in our home.” He chuckles despite the fact he doesn’t want to find Sebastian funny. He doesn’t want Sebastian to affect him. But he’s right. The man’s name irked Kurt, too, when Isabelle referred him. “Ridiculous name or not, he seemed like a knowledgeable guy.”

“Do you think that Shaolin stuff could work here?”

Kurt pauses to give the matter some thought, and that kills the moment. The levity becomes saturated by the pain hanging in the room, and Kurt coils further into his sketch.

“That remains to be seen. But I think I’m going to try doing it for myself this time. Of course, the overall effect is going to be completely thrown to heck when you hire whoever never to decorate your office.” Kurt throws a derisive scowl over his shoulder. It misses its mark when Kurt won’t look Sebastian in the eyes.

Sebastian swallows Kurt’s scowl without thinking of a comeback. They’ve had that argument before when Kurt redecorated their penthouse. Kurt felt the need to redecorate whenever something big happened in their lives, but Sebastian’s office was off-limits, so it stayed the same. Kurt tried to find one or two things to put into his design scheme that would bring a theme from Sebastian’s office out so that the penthouse would blend, but whatever the thing he chose was – a print, a vase, an ottoman, or a coffee table – it stuck out like a sore thumb, until Kurt tried less and less.

“Can’t fight City Hall,” he’d say, returning to the business of finishing the rest of the space. Things changed around them, and yet, in Sebastian’s carefully curated world, life stood still. The last time Kurt redecorated was before Grace was born. Nothing in the penthouse matched Sebastian’s office after that.

“I want you to do it.”

Kurt stops scribbling. “Me?”

“Yeah.”

Kurt almost looks back to see if Sebastian is serious. He stares at the paper in front of him, the surface more ink than white. “Are you… are you sure? You always said that we need our separate spaces.”

“That’s only because you’re a little heavy-handed with the pastels. I trust you. Just don’t go making it all shabby chic.”

Kurt is speechless. This is the opportunity he has been waiting for their entire marriage – to decorate Sebastian’s office. Once upon a time, he saw it as the ultimate gesture of trust.

Back when he was naïve and fairly stupid.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.” Kurt debates standing up and giving Sebastian a hug or a handshake. This seems like a time that would warrant it. But when he rolls an inch to his knees, his entire body screams with pain. God, he feels old. How can he be this stiff after just half an hour?

Kurt returns to his planning. Even though he doesn’t feel prepared to leave his sanctuary, he fixes on that solid mask he’s been wearing for weeks around Sebastian. Just one more minute. One more minute, and he’ll go downstairs. He thinks he says it out loud. He expects Sebastian to go back to their room and get ready for the day, but he stays in place like a statue, watching Kurt draw, huddled over his sketchbook with his back turned to him and the door.

Kurt waits to hear the sound of footsteps retreat the way they came, but they don’t. His pencil stops above a square drawn in the corner meant to represent his stereo. He can’t continue his drawing with his husband watching, so he bites the bullet.

“Was there something else you needed?” he asks.

“They’ve… uh… got the bed in,” Sebastian says. “And the TV.”

Kurt scrunches his nose and lifts his head. What does he mean? The bed and the TV are on the moving truck. Kurt looks at his phone, resting on the floor by his knee.

“What are you talking about?” Kurt scoffs. “The movers haven’t even arrived yet. It’s only 7:15.”

“That’s right.” Sebastian speaks slowly, the way he does when he’s explaining something to Kurt that he thinks Kurt might explode over. He leans forward like he wants to come in but doesn’t without an invitation. “It is 7:15. In the evening.”

Kurt's head snaps up, eyes rolling because Sebastian is crazy.

There’s no way.

He's ready to object, but with his gaze away from his page, he notices something different about the light in the room. Instead of a soft, diffused blue, it has become a thicker yellow. Shadows stretch across the floor that weren’t there before. The room is warmer than he remembers, and the skin of his left shin, folded over his right, feels hot and irritated, like he might have gotten a sunburn.

“Evening?” Kurt shakes his head. “How can it… ? But… why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you come get me?”

“I tried. I told you when the movers arrived. I asked you what you wanted for lunch. I brought you the portable heater and put a lamp in here when it started to get dark.”

Kurt looks around. In the emptiness of the room, they’re easy to see - a plug-in heater behind him, and, in the corner of the room to the left of the door, standing straight and tall like a structural support beam, a brass lamp without a shade, filling the room with artificial light.

The first two pieces of furniture in his new studio, and Sebastian put them there.

Kurt doesn’t want them. He’d rather be cold and alone in the dark.

“We don’t have WiFi or cable yet, but I set up the Blu-ray player,” Sebastian continues. “I thought I could go get some take-out, and we could have a picnic dinner on the bed. Maybe watch a movie?”

Kurt does a 180 on his sore ass and looks at his husband (which is to say he looks at a spot over Sebastian’s head) with a mildly confused expression. He’s not really thinking about the bed or the movie or dinner at all. Even though he was hungry earlier, apparently hours earlier, he’s not hungry now. He couldn’t be less hungry. His desire to eat simply evaporated. It's been waning for weeks. Sometimes he forgets to eat until Sebastian sticks a sandwich in his face. Sebastian has become devoted to keeping Kurt's stomach full. He knows better than to comment on his weight loss, but he keeps a stock of temptable foods on hand.

He’s keeping Kurt on life support.

Sebastian stuck a spear into the heart of what they had together. Now he’s keeping Kurt alive to help him fix it.

Kurt hates that he didn’t see it that way until just now.

“Kurt? Please?”

Here’s the olive branch, Kurt thinks. He has to decide whether he’s going to take it or toss it aside.

He had promised Sebastian he’d try, and Kurt has never broken a promise to Sebastian.

No matter how much he hurts, he’s not going to start tonight.

His father always said that a man is only as good as his word.

Kurt closes his sketchbook. “Alright. I’m coming.” He tries to unfold his legs, but his knees lock up on him, and he rushes to massage the beginnings of a cramp. Sebastian looks like he’s about to spring in and help, but Kurt puts up a hand. “I’ll be a minute.”

Nodding, Sebastian takes a step back. Even with that rejection, he looks happier, more hopeful. He takes his phone out of his pocket and leaves the room. The grateful smile on his lips should fill Kurt with warmth. It used to.

But it doesn’t.

After a meal of Szechuan from a questionable establishment (not questionably clean, just questionably Chinese) and The Devil Wears Prada (a movie Sebastian swore up and down he’d never watch again), Sebastian falls asleep with his head on Kurt’s chest. And Kurt lets him, even if he himself barely gets a minute of peace.

#kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #sebastian smythe #Kurt Hummel

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alwaysmarilynmonroe · 4 years

Text

Today is a very special day, it’s Marilyn’s Birthday! Can you believe that if she were still alive, Marilyn would have been turning 94 years old today – just two months younger than the Queen herself! With each year I always try and write a special post about this amazing woman, who has helped me so much and achieved more than anyone could have imagined in her 36 years. Therefore, I decided to write 94 facts about the Birthday Girl – some you may know, some you may not, all in the hope that genuine things will be learnt and the real Marilyn will be more understood and appreciated.

Gladys and baby Norma Jeane spend some quality time together on the beach in 1929.

Little Norma Jeane, aged seven, in 1933.

Norma Jeane photographed by David Conover whilst working at the Radio Plane Munitions Factory in either the Fall of 1944 or Spring of 1945.

Norma Jeane by Andre de Dienes in late 1945.

Marilyn by Richard Miller in 1946.

Marilyn on Tobey Beach by Andre de Dienes on July 23rd 1949.

Marilyn by Ed Clark in Griffith Park in August 1950.

Marilyn attends a Party in Ray Anthony’s home, organized by 20th Century Fox on August 3rd 1952.

Marilyn filming The Seven Year Itch on location in New York City by Sam Shaw on September 13th 1954.

Marilyn by Milton Greene on January 28th 1955.

Marilyn by Cecil Beaton on February 22nd 1956. This was her favourite photo of herself.

Marilyn attending the Premiere of The Prince In The Showgirl at the Radio City Music Hall on June 13th 1957.

Marilyn by Carl Perutz on June 16th 1958.

Marilyn by Philippe Halsman for LIFE Magazine in October 1959.

Marilyn attends a Benefit for The Actors Studio at the Roseland Dance City on March 13th 1961.

Marilyn on Santa Monica Beach for Cosmopolitan Magazine by George Barris on July 1st 1962.

______________________________________________________________________________

1. Stood at a height of 5’5½”

2. Born in the charity ward of the Los Angeles County Hospital at 9:30 AM on June 1st 1926.

3. Married three times;

– Jim Dougherty: (June 19th 1942 – September 13th 1946) – Joe Dimaggio: (January 14th 1954 – 31st October 1955) (Temporary divorce granted on October 27th 1954) – Arthur Miller: (June 29th 1956 – January 20th 1961).

4. Suffered two confirmed miscarriages; an ectopic pregnancy on August 1st 1957 and miscarriage in December 16th 1958.

5. Suffered with endometriosis very badly, so much so that she had a clause in her contract which stated she would be unable to work whilst menstruating.

6. Starred in 30 films – her last being uncompleted.

7. Favourite of her own performances was as Angela Phinlay in The Asphalt Jungle (1950)

8. Winner of three Golden Globes; two for World Film Favourite – Female in 1954 and 1962 and one for Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical for her performance as Sugar Kane in Some Like It Hot (1959) in 1960.

9. Her idol was the first Platinum Blonde Bombshell, Jean Harlow.

10. Amassed a collection of over 400 books in her library, ranging from Russian Literature to Psychology.

11. Favourite perfume was Chanel No.5

12. Had two half siblings; Robert “Jackie” Baker (1918 – 1933) and Bernice Miracle (1919) – the former she would never have the chance to meet and Bernice was not informed about Marilyn until she was 19 years old.

13. Former Actor and 20th Century Fox Studio Executive, Ben Lyon created the name Marilyn Monroe in December 1946 – Marilyn after fellow Actress, Marilyn Miller and Monroe after Marilyn’s mother’s maiden name. Ironically enough, Ben starred with Jean Harlow, in her breakout movie, Hell’s Angels (1930).

14. Legally changed her name to Marilyn Monroe ten years later, on February 23rd 1956.

15. Attended The Actors Studio.

16. Third woman to start her own Film Production Company – the first being Lois Weber in 1917 and the second being Mary Pickford in 1919.

17. First had her hair bleached in January 1946 at the Frank & Joseph Salon by Beautician Sylvia Barnhart, originally intended for a Shampoo Advert.

18. Contrary to popular belief, she was technically a natural blonde, not a redhead or brunette. She was born with platinum hair and was very fair until just before her teen years. Her sister described her with having dark blonde hair upon their first meeting in 1944.

19. Another myth debunked – she had blue eyes, not brown.

20. Was one of the few women in the 1950s to use weights when exercising.

21. Wore jeans before it was considered acceptable for women.

22. Her famous mole was real – albeit skin coloured, so she emphasized it using a brown eye pencil.

23. Was a Step-Mother in two of her three marriages to three children – Joe Dimaggio Jr. and Bobby and Jane Miller.

24. Found out she landed the lead role in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) on her 26th Birthday.

25. Another huge myth dispelled – only actually met President Kennedy four times from 1961 – 1962. Three of them were at public events, with the last being her performance at Madison Square Garden. One of them was at Bing Crosby’s Palm Spring house with various people, so at most (which again, is very unlikely) they had a one night stand – nothing more and nothing less.

26. Was the first Playboy Cover Girl, although she did not actually pose for them, nor give permission for them to be used. Hugh Hefner bought the photograph from a Chicago Calendar Company for $500 and the two never met.

27. Speaking of Playboy, the photo was taken by Photographer Tom Kelley on May 27th 1951 and Marilyn made a total of $50 for the photo shoot. The most famous photo then went on to cause a national sensation after being sold to the Calendar Baumgarth Company and became known as, “Golden Dreams“.

28. In 1955 it was estimated that over four million copies of the Calendar had been sold.

29. Favourite singers were Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald.

30. Attended the Academy Awards Ceremony only once on March 29th 1951 and presented the award for “Best Sound Recording” to Thomas Moulton for All About Eve (1951) which she also starred in.

31. Performed ten shows over four days to over 100,000 soldiers and marines in Korea in February 1954 – she actually ended up catching pneumonia because it was so cold.

32. Was one of the few Stars who had Director Approval in their Contracts. Some of the names included were, John Huston, Elia Kazan, Alfred Hitchcock, George Stevens, William Wyler, Joshua Logan and Sir Carol Reed.

33. Was pregnant during the filming of Some Like It Hot (1959) – filming finished on November 7th 1958 and she miscarried the following month on December 16th.

34. Featured on the cover of LIFE Magazine seven times during her lifetime;

– April 7th 1952 – May 25th 1953 – July 8th 1957 (International Edition) – April 20th 1959 – November 9th 1959 – August 15th 1960 – June 22nd 1962

35. Favourite bevarage was Dom Perignon 1953 Champagne.

36. By the time of her death, her films had grossed over $200 million, when adjusted for inflation that is the equivalent of $2 billion in 2019.

37. Designer, William Travilla dressed Marilyn for seven of her films, two (*) of them received Oscar Nominations in, “Best Costume/Design, Color“;

– Monkey Business (1952) – Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) – How To Marry A Millionaire (1953) * – River Of No Return (1954) – There’s No Business Like Show Business (1954) * – The Seven Year Itch (1955) – Bus Stop (1956)

38. Spent 21 months of her childhood at the Los Angeles Orphanage, from September 13th 1935 until June 7th 1937.

39. Was one of the first Stars to speak out about child abuse, with her story appearing in movie magazines as early as 1954.

40. Fostered by her grandmother’s neighbours, Ida and Albert Bolender, for the first seven years of her life.

41. Lived in England for four months, during the period of filming for The Prince and The Showgirl (1957) from July 14th 1956 – November 20th 1956.

42. Her Production Company, Marilyn Monroe Productions produced only one film, The Prince and The Showgirl (1957) based on Terrance Rattigan’s play, The Sleeping Prince.

43. Was photographed by Earl Theisen in October 1952 wearing a potato sack dress after being criticized by the press for her outfit choice at The Henrietta Awards in January 1952. A journalist wrote that Marilyn was “insignificant and vulgar“and “even in a potato bag, it would have been more elegant.“

44. Was a huge supporter of LGBT+ rights, saying the following quote about fellow actor and friend, Montgomery Clift to journalist W.J. Weatherby in 1960,

“I was remembering Monty Clift. People who aren’t fit to open the door for him sneer at his homosexuality. What do they know about it? Labels–people love putting labels on each other. Then they feel safe. People tried to make me into a lesbian. I laughed. No sex is wrong if there’s love in it.”

45. Her measurements were listed as the following by her Dressmakers; 35-22-35 and 36-24-24 by The Blue Book Modelling Agency. For the majority of her life she weighed between 117-120 pounds, with her weight fluctuating around 15 pounds, during and after her pregnancies (1957-1960), although her waist never ventured past 28.5 inches and her dress size today would be a UK Size 6-8 and a US Size 2-4 as she was a vintage Size 12.

46. Her famous white halter dress from The Seven Year Itch (1955) sold for $4.6 million ($5.6 million including auction fees) on June 18th 2011, which was owned by Debbie Reynolds. The “Happy Birthday Mr. President Dress” originally held the record for the most expensive dress, when it was sold on October 27th 1999 for $1.26 million. It then went on to be resold for $4.8 million on November 17th 2016, thus regaining it’s original achievement.

47. Was discovered by Photographer, David Conover, whilst working in The Radio Plane Munitions Factory in the Fall of 1944 or Spring of 1945, depending on sources.

48. Now known as the, “Me Too” movement, Marilyn was one of the first Stars to speak out on the, “Hollywood Wolves” in a 1953 article for Motion Picture Magazine entitled, “Wolves I Have Known”. The most famous incident being with the Head of Columbia Studios, Harry Cohn, who requested Marilyn join him on his yacht for a weekend away in Catalina Island. Marilyn asked if his wife would be joining them, which, as you can imagine – did not go down well and her contract was not renewed with the Studio. Marilyn made only one film with Columbia during her six month contract, this being Ladies Of The Chorus (1948) which was shot in just ten days!

49. Loved animals dearly and adopted a variety of pets over the years. These included a basset hound called Hugo and parakeets, Clyde, Bobo and Butch with Husband Arthur Miller. A number of cats including a persian breed called Mitsou in 1955 and Sugar Finney in 1959. Her most famous pet was gifted to her in March or April of 1961 by friend, Frank Sinatra, a little white maltese named Maf. His full name was Mafia Honey, as a humorous reference to Sinatra’s alleged connections to the Mob. After Marilyn’s death, Maf went to live with Frank Sinatra’s secretary, Gloria Lovell.

50. The book she was reading at the time of her death was Harper Lee’s, To Kill A Mocking Bird.

51. One of the movies she starred in was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture and won, this being All About Eve (1950) at The 23rd Academy Awards on March 29th 1951. It ended up being nominated for 14 Oscars, a record at the time and has only been matched by Titanic (1997) and La La Land (2016).

52. Her first magazine cover was photographed by Andre de Dienes in December 1945 for Family Circle, released on April 26th 1946.

53. Joined The William Morris Agency on December 7th 1948.

54. Was right handed, not left as often believed.

55. Third Husband Arthur Miller wrote the screenplay for Marilyn’s last completed film, The Misfits (1961) which was originally written as a short story for Esquire Magazine in 1957. After the tragic ectopic pregnancy Marilyn endured in August of 1957, friend and Photographer, Sam Shaw suggested to Miller he alter his short story specifically for her. Ironically the making of this film culminated in their divorce and Marilyn stating,

“He could have written me anything and he comes up with this. If that’s what he thinks of me then I’m not for him and he’s not for me.” 56. Was Author, Truman Capote’s original choice for the role of Holly Golightly in Breakfast At Tiffany’s (1961) however, she was advised to turn it down by her Acting Coach, Paula Strasberg, who did not think the role of a prostitute would be good for her image. Writer George Axelrod, who wrote the Screenplay for Bus Stop (1956) and the play, The Seven Year Itch, ironically ended up being the Screenwriter for this movie.

Capote said this regarding Marilyn,

“I had seen her in a film and thought she would be perfect for the part. Holly had to have something touching about her . . . unfinished. Marilyn had that.”

57. Second Husband Joe Dimaggio had The Parisian Florists deliver red roses on Marilyn’s grave twice a week, for twenty years, from August 1962 until September 1982. Marilyn had told him how William Powell used to do this for Jean Harlow after her death and he reportedly vowed to do the same after their Wedding Ceremony. After the 20 years he then donated to a children’s charity, as he thought it would be a nice way to honour her memory. They also created the flower arrangements for her casket at her funeral.

58. The following five Directors directed Marilyn in more than one movie;

– John Huston; The Asphalt Jungle (1950) and The Misfits (1961) – Richard Sale; A Ticket To Tomahawk (1950) and Let’s Make It Legal (1951) – Howard Hawks; Monkey Business (1952) and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) – Billy Wilder; The Seven Year Itch (1955) and Some Like It Hot (1959) – George Cukor; Let’s Make Love (1960) and Something’s Got To Give (1962)

59. Was an illegitimate child, which unfortunately was attached with a lot of stigma in the 1920s. Her mother, Gladys, listed her then husband Edward Mortenson on the Birth Certificate, although it is commonly accepted that her real father was Charles Stanley Gifford, as Gladys left Edward on May 26th 1925. Gladys had an affair with him, which ended when she announced her pregnancy and he never acknowledged or met Marilyn, although she tried multiple times over the years to speak with him.

60. Stayed in a number of foster homes during her childhood,

– George and Emma Atkinson; February 1934 – September 1934 – Enid and Sam Knebelcamp; Fall of 1934 – Harvey and Elsie Giffen; January 1935 – March 1935 – Grace and “Doc” Goddard; April 1935 – September 1935 and June 1937 – November 1937 and end of 1940 – February 1942 – Ida Martin; November 1937 – August 1938 – “Aunt Ana” Lower; August 1938 – End of 1940 and February 1942

61. Had her hand and footprints immortalized in cement at Graumans Chinese Theatre on June 26th 1953, with Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) co-star, Jane Russell. Marilyn would place a rhinestone in the dot of the letter “i” as a reference to her character, “Lorelei Lee” but it was sadly stolen. This was an incredibly special moment for her, as she often talked about placing her hands and feet in the many prints there, when she spent her weekends at the Theatre as a child, especially in 1933 and 1934.

“When I was younger, I used to go to Grauman’s Chinese Theatre and try to fit my foot in the prints in the cement there. And I’d say “Oh, oh, my foots too big. I guess that’s out.” I did have a funny feeling later when I finally put my foot down into that wet cement, I sure knew what it really meant to me, anything’s possible, almost.”

62. The famous gold lamé dress worn in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953) and designed by William Travilla, was deemed too risqué by the censors. Unfortunately for fans, this meant that the musical number, “Down Boy” was cut from the film and we only glimpse a few seconds of the dress from behind, on screen.

63. Due to the censors, the original, “Diamond’s Are A Girl’s Best Friend” costume was changed to the now iconic pink dress with black bow. Originally it was to be a diamond encrusted two piece, which was extremely daring for the then Motion Picture Hays Code.

64. Loved Erno Lazlo Skin Cream, Vaseline and Nivea Moisturizer.

65. Had she completed Something’s Got To Give (1962), Marilyn would have been the first Star in a major Motion Picture to appear nude on film. As she passed before it was completed the achievement went to fellow Blonde Bombshell, Jayne Mansfield in, Promises! Promises (1963).

66. Met Queen Elizabeth II in England at the Empire Theater in Leicester Square whilst attending the Premiere of, “The Battle Of The River Plate“ on October 29th 1956.

67. The Misfits (1961) was both Marilyn and Clark Gable’s last completed films. Clark died 12 days after filming finished, on November 16th 1960. The film was released on Clark’s would be 60th Birthday, February 1st 1961 and Marilyn passed 18 months later.

68. As Marilyn died before the completion of Something’s Got To Give (1962) it ended up being remade with Doris Day and James Garner, entitled, Move Over Darling! (1963). The film was originally intended to be a remake of, My Favourite Wife (1940) which starred Cary Grant.

69. Signed a recording contract with RCA Records on September 1st 1953. One of her songs from River of No Return (1954) entitled, “File My Claim” sold 75,000 copies in its first three weeks of release.

70. Was admitted to the Payne Whitney Psychiatric Clinic on February 10th 1961 by her then Psychiatrist, Marianne Kris. Originally thought to be for rest and rehabilitation, following her divorce from Arthur Miller and the strain of filming The Misfits. However, Marilyn was placed on the security ring and held against her will. Thankfully, she was able to contact ex Husband, Joe Dimaggio, who stated he would, “Take the hospital apart brick by brick” if she was not released and after three days of emotional trauma, she left.

71. Visited the following Countries;

– Canada – (July – August 1953) – Japan (February 1954) – Korea (Feburary 1954) – England (July – November 1956) – Jamaica (January 1957) – Mexico (February 1962)

72. Purchased her only home, 12305 Fifth Helena Drive on February 8th 1962, where she would tragically pass just under 6 months later.

73. The home had the following tile located on the front paving entrance saying, “cursum perficio” meaning, “my journey ends here.” The title is still there to this day.

74. Her final interview was published in LIFE Magazine on August 3rd 1962 and was written by Richard Meryman.

75. Aside from her millions of fans, had a staunch group of supporters affectionately known as, “The Monroe Six” who followed Marilyn around New York during her time there. Their nickname for Marilyn was, “Mazzie” and they became so acquainted that Marilyn actually once invited them for a picnic at her home.

76. First married at just sixteen years old, this was to avoid returning to the Orphanage she had spent almost two years in as a child.

77. Supported numerous charity events, most famously riding a pink elephant in Madison Square Garden, to support the Arthritis and Rheumatic Affections Association on March 30th 1955.

78. Left 25% of her Estate to her then Psychiatrist, Marianne Kris and 75% to mentor and friend, Lee Strasberg. For reference, her Will was last updated on January 1961 – a month before she entered the Payne Whitney Hospital on the advice of Marianne Kris.

79. At the time of it’s release, The Misfits (1961) turned out to be the most expensive black and white movie ever made, costing a budget of $4 million dollars.

80. The Premiere of The Seven Year Itch was held on her 29th Birthday, on June 1st 1955, she attended with ex Husband, Joe Dimaggio.

81. Laid to rest at Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery on August 8th 1962 at 1:00 PM, with friend and mentor Lee Strasberg delivering the Eulogy.

82. Although so often associated with diamonds, actually wasn’t that fond of jewellery stating, “People always ask me if I believe diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Frankly, I don’t.”

83. Spent her 36th Birthday filming Something’s Got To Give (1962) and then attending a Charity Event for muscular dystrophy at the Chavez Ravin Dodger Stadium, which also happened to be her last public appearance.

84. Whilst recovering in hospital from an appendectomy in April 1952, Marilyn asked long time Makeup Artist and friend, Allan “Whitey” Snyder to do her makeup, should she pass before him. She gave him a gold money clip with the inscription, “Whitey Dear, while I’m still warm, Marilyn” and he did fulfill this promise to her.

85. Converted to Judaism for third husband, Arthur Miller on July 1st 1956.

86. Despite appearing in 30 films, she only actually dies in one, that being her breakout movie, Niagara (1953) where her character Rose Loomis, is strangled by her Husband George, played by Joseph Cotten.

87. Moved to New York City in 1955 and attended The Actors Studio, after breaking her Film Contract with 20th Century Fox. This was for a number of reasons, mainly years of low pay, unsatisfactory scripts and lack of creative control. A new contract would finally be reinstated on December 31st.

88. Repurchased a white Baby Grand Piano that her mother, Gladys, owned during their time living together in 1933. After Marilyn passed it would then be sold at the Christies Auction of her Estate in 1999 to none other than, Mariah Carey for $632,500.

89. Wore long hair pieces in River of No Return (1954) and a medium length wig in The Misfits (1961). The first I can only assume was due to the time period and setting of a Western and the second was due to the bleach damage her hair had suffered. After the filming in 1960, she wore the wig a couple of times in public events and then reverted back to her normal hair.

90. Like all students, it was tradition to perform in front of each other in The Actors Studio and on February 17th 1955, Marilyn acted out a scene from “Anna Christie” with Maureen Stapleton. Although it was an unwritten rule that students were not meant to applaud one another, an eruption of cheers and clapping happened after Marilyn had finished.

“Everybody who saw that says that it was not only the best work Marilyn ever did, it was some of the best work ever seen at Studio, and certainly the best interpretation of Anna Christie anybody ever saw. She achieved real greatness in that scene.”

– Actor Ellen Burstyn, on recalling Marilyn’s performance.

91. Used the pseudonym, “Zelda Zonk“, when trying to remain incognito.

92. Marilyn’s mother, Gladys Baker, suffered from Paranoid Schizophrenia and after various stays in institutions, was declared insane on January 15th 1935, when Marilyn was just 8 years old. After 10 years she was released and managed to retain various cleaning jobs and had developed an intense interest in Christian Science. However, by 1951 she was back in various institutions and would stay in the Rockhaven Sanitarium until 1967. Even after death, Marilyn continued to cover her mother’s care payments and Gladys would go on to outlive her for 22 years.

93. Favourite photograph of herself was taken by Cecil Beaton on February 22nd 1956.

94. Last professional photos were taken by Bert Stern, famously known as “The Last Sitting” for Vogue Magazine on June 23rd, July 10th and 12th 1962. Allan Grant took the LIFE Magazine interview pictures in her home, on July 4th and 9th 1962. Whilst George Barris took his photos for Cosmopolitan Magazine, the previous weekend on the 29th and 30th of June, until July 1st 1962. ______________________________________________________________________________

To those of you who took the time to read through all 3000+ words, thank you! It truly means more to me than you know and I really hope it’s shed some light on the truly special person Marilyn was and made you hold a good thought for her on her big day.

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Happy 94th Birthday Marilyn! Today is a very special day, it's Marilyn's Birthday! Can you believe that if she were still alive, Marilyn would have been turning 94 years old today - just two months younger than the Queen herself!

#1940s #1950s #1960s #angel #blonde bombshell #classic hollywood #hollywood #icon #legend #marilyn #marilyn monroe #norma jeane #norma jeane baker #old hollywood

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cordonian-literature · 3 years

Text

wip wednesday :)

hi y’all so i wasn’t tagged (whoops broke the rules) and it’s still kinda early in the day but i wanted to make this post because i’ve been working on a few other fics and wanted to share :)

i’ve been finishing up Aftermath - the reason it’s taking me so long to post chapters is because i initially had a very sad ending planned. i weeped when i was rereading it because i’ve gotten emotionally attached to the characters (what a surprise) and am now rewriting a happier ending. i think there’s like... 3 chapters left (don’t quote me on that, i’m a mess and it could change, but its unlikely).

there’s also two other fic ideas that i had. the first one kinda throws canon out the window - but there are still some elements, like Bertrand and Savannah’s relationship (though it’s extremely altered), the assassination with Olivia’s parents, Godfrey & Barthelemy’s treason... it’s just changed, like Queen Eleanor’s story is different, Leo doesn’t abdicate, Liam and Drake never really became best friends, and MC (Klara/Claire Brooks) leads a double life, keeping both men (and families) away from each other

the second one throws TRH 3 in the trash (even though it already is kinda trash, haha). this would take place during the last chapter of TRH 2 and throw the whole vote stuff out the window - because the farther we go with that, the less it makes sense. basically, Auvernal kidnaps the heir, Barthelemy is involved in it, and Liam and MC (i’m keeping her as Riley Brooks for this one) along with the gang do everything they can to get her back (obviously why wouldn’t they). i thought it would be interesting putting a part of it in the heir’s point of view, since those were kinda funny in some of the recent chapters. nothing too dark or serious (i mean yeah the heir getting kidnapped is serious, but you know what i mean. besides that, there are no major trigger warnings)

both these fics will most likely flop, but i had fun with these ideas and wanted to share

so here we go

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The Aftermath - Chapter 32

When Bastien enters, his eyes widen as they rest on Boris. He gives Olivia a look.

“Drake,” she tells him, hoping that would be enough of an answer. Bastien frowns. Olivia didn’t know why Drake had done this either. The fool hadn’t given her any information as to what this man had done. Where was she even supposed to start?

Now she was really wishing she had called Jacob to give her a background check.

“So,” she begins, pacing in front of Boris. Bastien was at full attention, closely watching both of them. “What happened between you and Drake?”

Boris spits blood to the opposite side of the room. It drips down the wall. “Call the bastard in here. Tell him to explain.” His accent is thick and his voice is tried.

I probably should, she thinks to herself.

Bastien gives Olivia another look. She nods at him.

“Let us shift the conversation,” Bastien begins. “Can I ask how long you’ve known Lady Riley or her late husband?”

“How is that important?” Boris questions.

“Just curious.” Bastien’s voice remains level.

Boris sighs, then leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Potter. I met him in college. He introduced me to Riley-”

“I’m sorry,” Bastien interrupts him. “Who is ‘Potter’?”

“The lovely Theodore Blaise.” Boris lets out a rueful chuckle. “You have not seen him in person? The idiot looks like Harry Potter. Stupid glasses, stupid hair.”

“Alright,” Bastien stops him again. “Continue. When did he introduce you to Riley?”

“New York. That one year. I was visiting before I had to go to... Switzerland? Sweden? One of the two. It was lifetime ago. Can’t remember everything.” He pauses to look around the room. “She was... with your King. We saw her in the park. Theo wanted to see her. We waited for the king to leave her before he went up to her hotel.”

Olivia knew that he was talking about the last night Riley had been with the court. But Boris was drawing out the conversation. She didn’t like how slow Bastien was approaching this. Olivia wanted to draw a knife — she had a new one she was itching to use — and force the answers out of him.

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Until the End - Prologue

A/N: also i made a thing for this series. it’s not a moodboard. idk what its called. like a banner or whatever? i felt creative and made it. i’ll probably end up making a moodboard too. there are three parts of the series, each part has seven/eight chapters. anyway this looks kinda wack i might not even use it

As we near the stairs, Olivia Nevrakis chases after Maxwell Beaumont, who tumbles down the steps.

“Why are you running?!” Olivia cries after the boy, a long object in her hand.

“Because you have a stick!” he cries after almost tripping over his short, chubby legs.

“What am I gonna do, hit you with it?”

“YES?!” Maxwell screams, a confused and fearful tone in his voice.

As the two reach the bottom of the stairs, Liam emerges from another corridor, laughing after his friends. His hair is a whorl on his head, and his cheeks are flushed pink.

“Hello, Mother!” he says. My son hugs my waist, then reaches to hug his father, but Constantine has already walked on.

I take the boy’s hand and we follow after the King. Near the entrance of the palace stands a man in guard’s uniform, a woman in a denim dress, and two small children.

“Eleanor, Liam,” Constantine begins. “I would like for you two to be introduced to a new member of our security team. Jackson Walker, his wife Bianca, and their children, Drake and Savannah.”

“A pleasure, Your Majesties,” Jackson says as he and his wife bow respectfully. The little girl blinks up at me while Drake looks between Liam and I.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Liam!” My son holds out his hand to Drake.

Constantine audibly coughs. Liam’s hand falls to his side, and his smile falls as well. I knew that the differences in status would not allow Liam to interact with the boy so improperly, but they are just children. I didn’t think there was a reason for such excessive formality.

Bianca slightly nudges her son. In a monotone voice, Drake greets, “Nice to meet you, Prince Liam.”

Liam’s expression lifts. I send a smile in Bianca’s direction, and she hesitantly returns it. Jackson holds eye contact with me a moment longer, a wide grin stretching his face.

Constantine grabs our attention again. “Jackson, you will be primarily working on my wife’s security team. Now if you’ll excuse us, we are expected at dinner. My head of security, Bastien, will lead you through the rest of your orientation. After dinner, you’ll be able to speak to my wife and receive any orders she has for you.”

“Yes, Sire,” Jackson bows his head again, and Constantine leads us away.

Godfrey and his family, along with the Beaumonts, Olivia, and Leo are already seated. They all stand quickly as Constantine comes into the room, giving polite bows.

The moment we sit, there’s a flurry of activity as the servants set our plates in front of us. Adelaide sips on her wine absently. Annabelle fusses over Maxwell, who has cookie crumbs on his fingers and face. Madeleine attempts to get Leo’s attention, but he laughs with Bertrand, the boys giving each other impish smiles. Olivia converses with Liam, taking on a gentle demeanor compared to how she behaved with Maxwell.

“Hostilities between Monterisso and Auvernal are increasing by the day,” I hear Godfrey mention to Constantine.

“The whole of Europe expects them to break out in war,” Barthelemy adds.

“Monterissian and Auvernese citizens anticipate some sort of peace treaty,” Godfrey continues. The men speak as if they are one unit, with one mind. “But other nations have already begun taking sides.”

“The King of Hidar is siding with Monterisso.” Barthelemy motions for a servant to bring him more wine. “But there are rumors that he is only doing so after receiving threats.”

“Most nations are waiting for Cordonia and Monaco for their decisions for who to ally with.”

When Barthelemy and Godfrey finish filling Constantine’s ears, they return to the food on their plates, staring down as if nothing else in the world concerned them. Constantine chews slowly, visibly considering their words.

“Monterisso has always kept a neutral face when it comes to Cordonian issues,” the King mentions. “They have never asked or hinted towards alliance. They are not many nations who ally with them at all.”

“So you must admit,” Barthelemy finishes chewing, “that allying with them instead of Auvernal makes a bad impression—”

“—and reduces the chance of alliances with other nations,” Godfrey finishes with him.

“How so?” I speak up. The three men turn their heads to look at me. No one else at the table pays attention to the conversation, but as their eyes burn in my direction — aggressive looks from the Dukes, while my husband raises an eyebrow at me — I want to take back my words.

But I do no such thing. After more than seven years of marriage, I had become accustomed to Godfrey and Barthelmey shutting down the advice I gave to my husband. This instance is no different.

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The Lion and the Heir - short series - Prologue

A/N: just as a heads up, i laughed while writing this. like i wrote this just for a good laugh and wanted to share. my friend sent me a writing prompt about a kid’s wild imagination and she thought it was funny and sent it to me (i sent her this same passage and we both laughed our heads off reading parts of it) so what i’m trying to say is that thinking this is terrible and cringe-worthy is understandable - i cringed at this myself and am very scared to post this lol, and might not even continue it. yes i made a moodboard thing. yes i laughed while making it. goodbye.

"Is everything well, Mommy?" I ask. Instead of answering me, again she attempts to silence me! I repeat my question, but this time the man tells me to silent myself.

Did they not know who they were speaking to? Perhaps I was interrupting something. Was there a lesson to be learned somewhere in this? I wish that Daddy were present at this meeting. Though most of his explanations were gibberish, he would at least attempt to make me understand.

The man walks towards me. He reaches his hands out to carry me, but I do not know this man! And he was quite stinky! I do not like him. I smack his hands away, and he takes a step back.

"With all due respect," I try to explain to him, "please introduce yourself before any forward actions. They are most unwelcoming. Your Princess does not appreciate this behavior."

He turns to my suspicious mother and says something in gibberish. I frown, for the language barrier does not mean that my subjects may disobey my wishes in such a manner!

Suspicious Mommy takes off the shield that was over her eyes. I find that it is NOT Mommy! Though they look similar, their differences are too contrasting. This woman's eyes were a tad sharper. She was too aware of me, and did not seem comfortable in my presence.

"Shhh sh shhh," she goes again, trying to pick me up, but I allow my short legs to fall from under me. My behind hits the mattress, and I feel my friend, General Lion, against my hand.

"Is everything well, Your Highness?" my trusty General says to me. "Is there anything I can do to be of service?"

"Dismiss this woman from my presence!" I command him.

"But... but that is Mommy!" he cries.

This woman was good in her disguise. She had fooled my trusted advisor!

"Believe me, General, it is not!" I tell him. "She has fooled us!"

"And she is trying to take you away?" he observes.

"Yes!" I am suddenly aware of what is happening. The woman begins to reach for me. "Quick!" I say, panic swelling in my chest. I had to do something about this, but all my heart is telling me to do is cry! I have to take more serious measures than that! "What am I to do?"

"Uh... uh..." General Lion looks around the crib, before he reaches out to me. "Take a hold of my paw!"

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putting my Aftermath taglist because that’s the only one i have :) - y’all can see what’s happening in the next chapter & these other fics. if you’re interested in any (besides Aftermath) let me know! if you don’t interact or anything, i’ll leave you on the Aftermath taglist and won’t remove or add you anywhere :)

(also, people probably know this but just a gentle reminder, the only reason i don’t reply to comments is because this is a sideblog. i see them all though, so don’t worry. i just don’t want to confuse people by replying from my main blog or anything :) anyway let me stop trailing off)

@captain-kingliamsqueen @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @twinkle-320 @amandablink @texaskitten30 @pens-girl-87 @ladyangel70 @sanchita012 @cordonianprincess @cordonia-gothqueen @pink-diamond13 @queenwalton @yourmajesty09 @alj4890 @choicesbutterfly

^if anyone from this list wants to do the WIP Wednesday thing, feel free!!

#trr fanfic #wips

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alinaastarkov · 4 years

Note

In response to that slayin', hair flippin', finger snappin' answer you just published, would you be so kind as to list moments that reference how cruel Sansa is to Arya? (If you want!)

Thank you so much!!! When I say this ask made me scream with delight!!! I believe this is the answer you’re referring to (if not soz please tell me which it is) and I really had fun with it tbf 😂

I’m very happy to list some of these, because it is so often overlooked. In this instance, I will not be including moments that show how deeply it affects Arya, unless that is present in the same quote, because Arya’s self-esteem and mental health is affected by a number of things and people, and Sansa is only one of those things.

Without further ado, let’s get down to it:

She looked at Arya. “What did you think of Prince Joff, sister? He’s very gallant, don’t you think?” “Jon says he looks like a girl,” Arya said. Sansa sighed as she stitched. “Poor Jon,” she said. “He gets jealous because he’s a bastard.” “He’s our brother,” Arya said, much too loudly. - Arya I AGOT

This is more generic cruelty than specifically to Arya, but it does show how little she thinks of two of her siblings. Especially as she knows how close Jon and Arya are, and she chose to say it anyway, perhaps just to get a rise out of her (which is why I think Arya thought Sansa attracted Septa Mordane’s attention) or simply not caring about her feelings. Unclear, but we can see that Sansa calling Jon a bastard or half-brother (as she always does) is clearly hurtful to Arya who sees him as her brother, and both sisters acknowledge she is more like Jon than anyone else, so it’s hard not to see this affecting Arya negatively.

It wasn’t fair. Sansa had everything. Sansa was two years older; maybe by the time Arya had been born, there had been nothing left. Often it felt that way. Sansa could sew and dance and sing. She wrote poetry. She knew how to dress. She played the high harp and the bells. Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother’s fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys. Arya took after their lord father. Her hair was a lusterless brown, and her face was long and solemn. Jeyne used to call her Arya Horseface, and neigh whenever she came near. It hurt that the one thing Arya could do better than her sister was ride a horse. Well, that and manage a household. Sansa had never had much of a head for figures. If she did marry Prince Joff, Arya hoped for his sake that he had a good steward.

Nymeria was waiting for her in the guardroom at the base of the stairs. She bounded to her feet as soon as she caught sight of Arya. Arya grinned. The wolf pup loved her, even if no one else did. - Arya I AGOT

I know I said I wouldn’t look at how it affects Arya, but this quote in particular is specifically about Sansa. The misogyny of the society is inherent in this statement, as it’s what is making Arya feel inferior, but we know Sansa lords this over her in this quote. Arya even mentions things she is better at, and still thinks negatively because that is all she can do well.

The only thing that scared her about today was Arya. Arya had a way of ruining everything. You never knew what she would do. - Sansa I AGOT

Sansa regarded her scrawny little sister in disbelief. “You can’t look for rubies, the princess is expecting us. The queen invited us both.” “I don’t care,” Arya said. “The wheelhouse doesn’t even have windows, you can’t see a thing.” “What could you want to see?” Sansa said, annoyed. She had been thrilled by the invitation, and her stupid sister was going to ruin everything, just as she’d feared. “It’s all just fields and farms and holdfasts.” “It is not,” Arya said stubbornly. “If you came with us sometimes, you’d see.” “I hate riding,” Sansa said fervently. “All it does is get you soiled and dusty and sore.” - Sansa I AGOT

Here we see how poorly Sansa thinks of Arya, and this is her own POV so there’s nothing to say about bias either. She also disparages one of the few things Arya thinks she can do well, and thinks of Arya as stupid and “ruining everything” which is not kind, especially when Arya’s presence would not affect her time with the Queen. Also interesting that she says this later on:

Be with you, Sansa thought, but she said, “Whatever you’d like to do, my prince.” Joffrey reflected a moment. “We could go riding.” “Oh, I love riding,” Sansa said. - Sansa I AGOT

Riding isn’t so bad as soon as anyone else wants to do it, huh?

One day she came back grinning her horsey grin, her hair all tangled and her clothes covered in mud, clutching a raggedy bunch of purple and green flowers for Father. Sansa kept hoping he would tell Arya to behave herself and act like the highborn lady she was supposed to be, but he never did, he only hugged her and thanked her for the flowers. That just made her worse.

Then it turned out the purple flowers were called poison kisses, and Arya got a rash on her arms. Sansa would have thought that might have taught her a lesson, but Arya laughed about it, and the next day she rubbed mud all over her arms like some ignorant bog woman just because her friend Mycah told her it would stop the itching. She had bruises on her arms and shoulders too, dark purple welts and faded green-and-yellow splotches; Sansa had seen them when her sister undressed for sleep. How she had gotten those only the seven gods knew. - Sansa I AGOT

Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody. This Mycah was the worst; a butcher’s boy, thirteen and wild, he slept in the meat wagon and smelled of the slaughtering block. Just the sight of him was enough to make Sansa feel sick, but Arya seemed to prefer his company to hers. - Sansa I AGOT

Here we have an instance of Sansa thinking of Arya as “horsey”, so why are we trying to deny she called her that? She also looks down on all the people Arya makes friends with, which shows her classism and how low her opinion is of her sister and her sister’s friends.

Sansa couldn’t help but smile a little. The kennelmaster once told her that an animal takes after its master. She gave Lady a quick little hug. Lady licked her cheek. Sansa giggled. Arya heard and whirled around, glaring. “I don’t care what you say, I’m going out riding.” Her long horsey face got the stubborn look that meant she was going to do something willful. “Gods be true, Arya, sometimes you act like such a child,” Sansa said. “I’ll go by myself then. It will be ever so much nicer that way. Lady and I will eat all the lemon cakes and just have the best time without you.” - Sansa I AGOT

More of Sansa delighting in her sister’s misery. More of the “horsey” face. More Sansa telling her sister she isn’t wanted, which is something Arya is already deeply afraid of.

She was almost in tears. All she wanted was for things to be nice and pretty, the way they were in the songs. Why couldn’t Arya be sweet and delicate and kind, like Princess Myrcella? She would have liked a sister like that.

Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different. It would have been easier if Arya had been a bastard, like their half brother Jon. She even looked like Jon, with the long face and brown hair of the Starks, and nothing of their lady mother in her face or her coloring. And Jon’s mother had been common, or so people whispered. Once, when she was littler, Sansa had even asked Mother if perhaps there hadn’t been some mistake. Perhaps the grumkins had stolen her real sister. But Mother had only laughed and said no, Arya was her daughter and Sansa’s trueborn sister, blood of their blood. Sansa could not think why Mother would want to lie about it, so she supposed it had to be true. - Sansa I AGOT

Now, I’ve joked with my siblings about one or more of us being adopted, but I’ve never genuinely believed it, going so far as to ask my mum if it was true. This is worse, though. Sansa knows the kind of social ostracism and classism bastards are subjected to, and she genuinely wants that for her sister just to make life easier for her.

A bright bud of blood blossomed where his sword pressed into Mycah’s flesh, and a slow red line trickled down the boy’s cheek. “Stop it!” Arya screamed. She grabbed up her fallen stick. Sansa was afraid. “Arya, you stay out of this.” “I won’t hurt him … much,” Prince Joffrey told Arya, never taking his eyes off the butcher’s boy. Arya went for him. - Sansa I AGOT

Arya swung at the prince again, but this time Joffrey caught the blow on Lion’s Tooth and sent her broken stick flying from her hands. The back of his head was all bloody and his eyes were on fire. Sansa was shrieking, “No, no, stop it, stop it, both of you, you’re spoiling it,” but no one was listening. Arya scooped up a rock and hurled it at Joffrey’s head. She hit his horse instead, and the blood bay reared and went galloping off after Mycah. “Stop it, don’t, stop it!” Sansa screamed. Joffrey slashed at Arya with his sword, screaming obscenities, terrible words, filthy words. Arya darted back, frightened now, but Joffrey followed, hounding her toward the woods, backing her up against a tree. Sansa didn’t know what to do. She watched helplessly, almost blind from her tears. - Sansa I AGOT

Joffrey made a scared whimpery sound as he looked up at her. “No,” he said, “don’t hurt me. I’ll tell my mother.” “You leave him alone!” Sansa screamed at her sister. Arya whirled and heaved the sword into the air, putting her whole body into the throw. The blue steel flashed in the sun as the sword spun out over the river. It hit the water and vanished with a splash. Joffrey moaned. Arya ran off to her horse, Nymeria loping at her heels. After they had gone, Sansa went to Prince Joffrey. His eyes were closed in pain, his breath ragged. Sansa knelt beside him. “Joffrey,” she sobbed. “Oh, look what they did, look what they did. My poor prince. Don’t be afraid. I’ll ride to the holdfast and bring help for you.” - Sansa I AGOT

Now, I do not want to get into more crap about the Trident incident, but all of this is very telling, especially as it comes from Sansa’s POV so there is no bias. After watching Joffrey hurt an innocent boy, Sansa not only tells Arya to stay out of it and let the boy be mutilated, when Joffrey starts threatening her sister with a sword (remember, Arya only has a stick at best) she thinks that they are both ruining things. In this very dangerous and volatile situation where she should be defending her defenceless little sister, she not only blames them both, but is only annoyed because they are ruining her date. And then, she tells Arya to leave Joffrey alone. It’s pretty whack and I’d feel resentment too if I was Arya. And then, she abandons Arya and seemingly doesn’t care because she wants to be with Joffrey (remember that Arya goes missing for four fucking days) and opines about what they did to him, as Joffrey wasn’t the aggressor.

“They were not the only ones present,” Ned said. “Sansa, come here.” Ned had heard her version of the story the night Arya had vanished. He knew the truth. “Tell us what happened.” His eldest daughter stepped forward hesitantly. She was dressed in blue velvets trimmed with white, a silver chain around her neck. Her thick auburn hair had been brushed until it shone. She blinked at her sister, then at the young prince. “I don’t know,” she said tearfully, looking as though she wanted to bolt. “I don’t remember. Everything happened so fast, I didn’t see …” - Eddard III AGOT

We know she knows exactly what happened. This is a lie. Plain and simple. I don’t blame Sansa for this - we would probably all be her confronted with this intimidating situation - but that doesn’t make it any better for her sister.

That was when Sansa finally seemed to comprehend. Her eyes were frightened as they went to her father. “He doesn’t mean Lady, does he?” She saw the truth on his face. “No,” she said. “No, not Lady, Lady didn’t bite anybody, she’s good …” “Lady wasn’t there,” Arya shouted angrily. “You leave her alone!” “Stop them,” Sansa pleaded, “don’t let them do it, please, please, it wasn’t Lady, it was Nymeria, Arya did it, you can’t, it wasn’t Lady, don’t let them hurt Lady, I’ll make her be good, I promise, I promise …” She started to cry. - Eddard III AGOT

I feel for Sansa here, but she didn’t need to throw her sister under the bus, again.

The last fortnight of their journey had been a misery. Sansa blamed Arya and told her that it should have been Nymeria who died. And Arya was lost after she heard what had happened to her butcher’s boy. Sansa cried herself to sleep, Arya brooded silently all day long, and Eddard Stark dreamed of a frozen hell reserved for the Starks of Winterfell. - Eddard IV AGOT

Sansa’s eyes had grown wide as the plates. “A tourney,” she breathed. She was seated between Septa Mordane and Jeyne Poole, as far from Arya as she could get without drawing a reproach from Father. “Will we be permitted to go, Father?” - Arya II AGOT

“I don’t care about their stupid tourney,” Arya said. She knew Prince Joffrey would be there, and she hated Prince Joffrey. Sansa lifted her head. “It will be a splendid event. You shan’t be wanted.” Anger flashed across Father’s face. “Enough, Sansa. More of that and you will change my mind." - Arya II AGOT

So, she blames Arya for Lady when it wasn’t her fault (seemingly out loud to Arya’s face seeing as this is coming from Ned), distances herself from Arya and then insults her at breakfast. Me and my sister fight, but not like this.

That was when Arya missed her brothers most. She wanted to tease Bran and play with baby Rickon and have Robb smile at her. She wanted Jon to muss up her hair and call her “little sister” and finish her sentences with her. But all of them were gone. She had no one left but Sansa, and Sansa wouldn’t even talk to her unless Father made her. - Arya II AGOT

When Prince Joffrey seated himself to her right, she felt her throat tighten. He had not spoken a word to her since the awful thing had happened, and she had not dared to speak to him. At first she thought she hated him for what they’d done to Lady, but after Sansa had wept her eyes dry, she told herself that it had not been Joffrey’s doing, not truly. The queen had done it; she was the one to hate, her and Arya. Nothing bad would have happened except for Arya. - Sansa II AGOT

Again with the blaming when she is fully aware it was not her fault. I admire Sansa’s growth through the series. I enjoy reading her AFFC and TWOW chapters. But boy, did we truly start at the bottom.

She knew her father was still angry about that, but it wasn’t fair to blame Joff. That would be like blaming her for something that Arya had done. - Sansa III AGOT

Ironic, isn’t it?

“What did Gregor do?” Arya asked. “He burned down a holdfast and murdered a lot of people, women and children too.” Arya screwed up her face in a scowl. “Jaime Lannister murdered Jory and Heward and Wyl, and the Hound murdered Mycah. Somebody should have beheaded them.” “It’s not the same,” Sansa said. “The Hound is Joffrey’s sworn shield. Your butcher’s boy attacked the prince.” “Liar,” Arya said. Her hand clenched the blood orange so hard that red juice oozed between her fingers. “Go ahead, call me all the names you want,” Sansa said airily. “You won’t dare when I’m married to Joffrey. You’ll have to bow to me and call me Your Grace.” She shrieked as Arya flung the orange across the table. It caught her in the middle of the forehead with a wet squish and plopped down into her lap. “You have juice on your face, Your Grace,” Arya said. It was running down her nose and stinging her eyes. Sansa wiped it away with a napkin. When she saw what the fruit in her lap had done to her beautiful ivory silk dress, she shrieked again. “You’re horrible,” she screamed at her sister. “They should have killed you instead of Lady!” - Sansa III AGOT

Sansa is the aggressor here, telling blatant lies, and it’s a bit of an overreaction to a stain on a dress.

“Arya started it,” Sansa said quickly, anxious to have the first word. “She called me a liar and threw an orange at me and spoiled my dress, the ivory silk, the one Queen Cersei gave me when I was betrothed to Prince Joffrey. She hates that I’m going to marry the prince. She tries to spoil everything, Father, she can’t stand for anything to be beautiful or nice or splendid.” “Enough, Sansa.” Lord Eddard’s voice was sharp with impatience. Arya raised her eyes. “I’m sorry, Father. I was wrong and I beg my sweet sister’s forgiveness.” Sansa was so startled that for a moment she was speechless. Finally she found her voice. “What about my dress?” “Maybe … I could wash it,” Arya said doubtfully. “Washing won’t do any good,” Sansa said. “Not if you scrubbed all day and all night. The silk is ruined.” “Then I’ll … make you a new one,” Arya said. Sansa threw back her head in disdain. “You? You couldn’t sew a dress fit to clean the pigsties.” - Sansa III AGOT

The one time Arya tries to apologise and make amends, particularly by putting herself out there and offering to do something she hates to fix it, and Sansa says that.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Sansa pleaded with him. “I don’t want to go back.” She loved King’s Landing; the pageantry of the court, the high lords and ladies in their velvets and silks and gemstones, the great city with all its people. The tournament had been the most magical time of her whole life, and there was so much she had not seen yet, harvest feasts and masked balls and mummer shows. She could not bear the thought of losing it all. “Send Arya away, she started it, Father, I swear it. I’ll be good, you’ll see, just let me stay and I promise to be as fine and noble and courteous as the queen.” - Sansa III AGOT

“It won’t be so bad, Sansa,” Arya said. “We’re going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure, and then we’ll be with Bran and Robb again, and Old Nan and Hodor and the rest.” She touched her on the arm. “Hodor!” Sansa yelled. “You ought to marry Hodor, you’re just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!” She wrenched away from her sister’s hand, stormed into her bedchamber, and barred the door behind her. - Sansa III AGOT

Again with the unnecessary insults that prey on insecurities Arya already has. Especially seeing as Arya is trying to cheer her up.

“I’m not like Arya,” Sansa blurted. “She has the traitor’s blood, not me. I’m good, ask Septa Mordane, she’ll tell you, I only want to be Joffrey’s loyal and loving wife.” - Sansa IV AGOT

Sansa found herself thinking of Lady again. She could smell out falsehood, she could, but she was dead, father had killed her, on account of Arya. She drew the knife and held it before her with both hands. - Sansa II ACOK

There are about 3 Arya mentions in Sansa’s ACOK chapters, and one was negative. And this is all while she thinks Arya is dead.

Lommy had called her Lumpyhead, Sansa used horseface, and her father’s men once dubbed her Arya Underfoot, but she did not think any of those were the sort of name he wanted. - Arya IX ACOK

Sister. Sansa had once dreamt of having a sister like Margaery; beautiful and gentle, with all the world’s graces at her command. Arya had been entirely unsatisfactory as sisters went. - Sansa II ASOS

Again, she thinks Arya is dead, and this is still how she sees her.

Her name, she had to know her name. “Arya Underfoot. Your sister used to call you Arya Horseface.” “It was me made up that name. Her face was long and horsey. Mine isn’t. I was pretty.” - The Prince of Winterfell ADWD

I know Jeyne said she made up the name, and I know you’re all gonna say that means Sansa didn’t use it. But it doesn’t matter that she made it up, because that doesn’t mean Sansa never said it. Arya and Theon, who has no bias or reason to lie, admit that. It seems pretty clear to me.

There are one or two positive mentions of Arya in Sansa’s thoughts, but that’s not what this ask was about. I hope I answered you nonny and thank you for the kind words!!

EDIT: forgot to add the link at the start. fixed now!

#asoiaf #neve has mail #arya stark #the night wolf #again i've got people complaining i use the sansa tag even though my last answer was not negative at all #so i will not be tagging her here #i will on the next one though so bite me

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ninja-go-to-therapy · 4 years

Text

The Ninja as Things My Friends and I Have Said

My friend keeps a quote-book and I thought y’all would enjoy this lol

Jay: say your last words to me, I’m about to be smited

Jay: I am so bright, I am star

Kai: Pickles and Dick Jay: Pickle my dick? Kai: PICKLE AND DICK! Lloyd: TICKLE MY DICK?

Kai: I want to play hot potato with a hand grenade

Lloyd: this chocolate milk mocks me

Kai: Can we all agree that when Jay walks he looks like a flamboyant gay drag-queen toddler

Lloyd, looking at a tampon: is that a cheese stick?

Kai: Where you at you little hoe?

Cole: Don’t do gay it’s not healthy

Jay: I live life as a pirate. Because a pirate is free

Jay: The sun's only up for half the year in Alaska Cole: We have that too. It's called nighttime

Morro: Lick his nuts, they have a sorta Mexican flavor

Kai: I need to be surrounded with seven beautiful naked women in order to sleep at night

Lloyd: You know how there's like a line between bravery and stupidity? Nya: Jay is that line

Jay: Disclaimer: I am an anxious bean

Wu: It’s not your fault but it is your problem

Cole: I can't keep a straight face anymore. It's gay now.

Lloyd: That was such a late reaction it could've been my dad coming back

Zane: DISCO PENIS

Kai: I wanna stand around and look GORGEOUS

Kai: I'm outrageously good-looking Zane: No you’re not

Lloyd: I admit when I'm wrong! Kai: Oh yeah. But I'm like never wrong!

All of the ninja, always: It would be so much fun to hurt a bad person

Zane: what state do I live in? Jay: depression

Kai: cool onesie... can I get inside it?

Lloyd: They call me Santa. I bring snow to the children.

Kai: Don't fucking giggle you little shit.

Nya: I will beat you with a meat stick

Cole: You moan more than the dumpster out back

Wu: Don't stick the plungers on your foreheads!

Garmadon: whY are you SMelLING the plungers?

Zane: How does one piss in a watermelon?

Lloyd: When I become 99 pounds I'm going to eat a pound of chicken nuggets so I can be 1% chicken nugget. It's indisputable.

Cole: It smells like SHIT. Like it smells kinda okay now, but it still smells like shit. So it's like. Perfumeshit

Jay: Your socks are untied

Lloyd: Morro can just molest himself

Jay: Can you please not get a fucking locker smaller than my self esteem

Zane: You be smellin your own shit soon Jay: I already do Zane: Get it? Cause your mom gay. Everyone: ...what?

Lloyd: My name's Lloyd and I wear shoes sometimes

Nya: Unlike Skylor, they actually like balls

Kai: Fuck fuck fucking fuck fucking fucktown

Jay. I’m about to go commit space heater in bathtub

Kai: Vaccines make you gay

Lloyd: It’s not because I’m Asian, its because I eat rice so much

Zane: Hi. I’m Zane. ... my dick fell off

Kai, to Lloyd: Your dad is my fuckbuddy. ... wait. Shit.

Lloyd: You didn’t miss. You hit me right in the fucking nipple.

Kai: Eat my dick

Nya. Bite off your own dick

Cole: Your face looks like you're trying to make your dick fall off

Lloyd: So we were sitting watching TV eating macaroni with a fruit roll-up soaking my feet in a trashcan

Jay: I’m gonna go commit visit Pompeii in time machine

Jay: How can spiders fall from the ceiling and just skrrrrt away

Kai: Because none of us can speak proper sentences

Kai: Hold on. I'm sending a meme. I can't fight.

Jay: Engulf your own dick

Jay: Please don’t have a Boston tea party in my back yard

Kai: Still it felt like I committed a minor crime in Iran with all the water in my nose

Jay: Sensei Wu, please throw scissors... I kinda wanna die

Kai: I got royally fucked

Jay: Get your meaty luscious legs

Jay: The fuck you mean take my pants off? They're always on! Cause no one wants me to take them off!

Lloyd, picking up a napkin and seeing food fall out: IT’S BIRTHING

Zane, threateningly: Give me your kidneys

The Overlord: Where is your technology stored?

Zane: I can balance my body on my boner and spin like a beyblade

Kai: My balls are not a muscle

Cole: So apparently I'm not the only one with asymmetrical balls. Lloyd: Wait actually? Cole: Well yesterday Kai gave us a very descriptive description of his balls

Zane, sarcastically: Gosh darn don’t you hate it when you're not allowed to bring your 5 dollar footlong subway to training

Lloyd: So he poked me in the back with a pencil and my third grade self was like, "BLASPHEMY"

Kai: You.... dickmuncher

Jay: We're playing infinity Life. It's like Life but the cars are infinity stones.

Kai: I could have divine gay sex and it would still be nohomo.

Cole, during some super serious training: Bake me into a pie daddy

Kai: a compliment sandwich, like this: I like your shoes, YOU SUCK, your eyes are pretty

Zane, to Lloyd: Don't KILL her! Too much paperwork!

Jay: Stop moving your butt. It's uncomfortable when you clench it

Cole: The STICK.. will be UP YOU! Kai: My ASS is your spot!

Jay, teaching Kai to roller skate: First, we master walking

Kai: I know I’m beautiful and perfect and amazing and huMBLE

Lloyd: I'm here for a good time, not a long time.

Cole: I'm allergic to emotions!

Zane: Yeet is not a valid Scrabble word

Kai: I love myself 3000. And you should, too. Love yourself, that is. Unless you wanna love me as well, cause that’s cool too.

Zane: Is doing drugs illegal

Lloyd: Post-traumatic stress? More like spicy memories

Jay: Be quiet so I can see

Cole: Why is my wallaber grinding its ass on the floor?

Kai: Whatever, my ass cheeks are balanced ... just as all things should be

Garmadon: IT WOULD BE SO MUCH FUN TO MAKE SOMEBODY THINK YOU WERE GONNA HIT THEM WITH YOUR CAR!

Sensei Garmadon: First of all, nobody says they're fine when they're good

Lloyd, getting himself a donut: A chocolate frosted donut for a chocolate frosted child

Nya, about Harumi: I just loathed her at first sight. Like your dad!

Morro, about Lloyd: He reminds me of a cucumber.

Cole, after becoming human again: I’m like Jesus... I thirst

Lloyd, sipping apple juice out of a shot glass: I'm just... done, ya know

Jay: Zane was eating my popcorn and I was like "hey that's my popcorn!" And he looks me dead in the eye and goes "surprise communism!"

Lloyd: I consumed a spatula

Jay: I almost burned down my house making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich

Zane, after Jay climbs on his back: Unmount me you heathen.

Kai: Yeah it's been such a dick-licking long time

Karlof: In Metalonia we do not have sister, we have brother with pussy

Zane: I want to delete my meatsack

Little Lloyd: At about 10 I was so hungry so I went to the med tent and pretended to be fainting so I got crackers

Garmadon: Before we leave I'm gonna sing a Disney song to attract all the females. Especially Misako

Jay, about to get sunburned: I know right, sunscreen is gross, you look like a glazed donut after you put it on

Cole: I like nuts but not that much. ... both kinds... I like my own nuts.

Zane: Hi I’m Zane and I’m the only one in this group with any form of common sense

Lloyd: Oh there's just someone throwing up over there! Kai: That’s hot

Cole, having a cashew thrown at him: I don’t want to swallow your nut ... I DON’T WANT YOUR NUT

Lloyd: My uncle is going to sacrifice my body

Kai: Okay. You ALL can eat MY ass

Lloyd: A picture will last longer than your family will

Garmadon: That last rep was like a hydroflask and this one was like a kleankanteen

Kai: I bet for a second he was like "oh my God they care about me"

Kai: Because no one would be ballsy enough, no pun intended, to whip his dick out and piss on a crowded bus

Jay: Fuck a duck Lloyd: Please just dont ..ff... a duck Jay: But the duck likes it. It goes quackquackquackQUACKAFLACK.

Lloyd: Digiorno? More like I'm fucking hungry

Lloyd: My socks are so wet tis but a small price to pay for salvation

Kai: No means no muchacho

Dareth after failing at spinjitzu: Now I'm just dizzy and my ass hurts

Zane: I said, Cole, don’t orgasm in public, it’s rude, and Cole started moaning as loud as humanly possible

Lloyd: Say cheese! Kai: Whiskey!

Jay: Who the fucking dammit

Jay: Spongebob square-nuts

Jay: Actual- ACTUALLY it WOULDN’T make me more of a smartass because my SMART has yet to be caught up with my ASS

Lloyd: I hate it when my foot becomes the itch

Kai: STDs are like pokemon, you gotta catch em all

Kai: Here y’all are like "I like them 'cause of how they hold themselves and whatnot" and I’m just like “GIRL PRETTY"

Cole: I hate it whenever my foot becomes the gay.

Kai: I’m shit at being a person, not a shit person.

Zane: Buses turn me on

Jay: No pissing in our VSCO hangout!

Lloyd: Are y’all on high?

Kai: Its gotta warm up to start lavaing, now it’s just lamping.

Kai, crying: When I was crawling through the sewer my hair got stuck in my knee pit and ripped out a chunk

Lloyd, deepthroating a plastic recorder: I’m blonde so naturally, I'm good at this

Kai: I’m depressed. I’m stressed. But at least I’m well-dressed.

Lloyd: Nom nom milk carton

Cole, playing Life: Give me children

Jay, on a Thursday: If Friday was a Tuesday, it would be today

Kai: We're eating lotion and calling it spicy butter ... it’s spiritually spicy

Kai: I don’t fucking know! I'm not a cheese wheel!

Zane: Beepbeep bitch what's that? My lie detector smells a lie

Lloyd: I aced two tests today! The PSAT and the rice purity test!

Pixal: I don't really get the phrase "dry as bones" because your bones are in fact, wet

Cole: Kai, Kai, we can draw you as one of those anime girls. With humungous eyes. Actually no, it doesn't matter what the size of your eyes are. But your boobs are HUGE.

Lloyd: Jay wants to become the Alpha hoe

Cole: STOP TOUCHING MY HEAD AND SAYING IT FEELS GOOD

Jay: Deli sandwich equals cold hamburger

Lloyd: How was your day? Cole: Good. I have pie dough in my water bottle

Jay: If we do that we can reach our minimum requirement which is our goal

Kai: You can taste the freedom in that nacho cheese

Lloyd: I lust for the crust

Garmadon: You dirty-minded fools!

Anyone, to Skylor: You sucked the fire

Lloyd: OHMYGOD WE GET TO COLOR WITH CRAYONS!

Nya: Not to be lesbian or anything... but DAMN

Jay: No means no in Spanish

Kai: Bro saxophone is literally the sexiest instrument alive

Wu: The only wrong answers are the ones I don’t agree with

Kai: Look, why do you need to be a bottom to suck someone else's cock?

Cole: Jay, you suck Jay: More so than you do? Kai: Wait... wait you mean like you suck at the game or you’re better at sucking than he is?

Kai: WE CAN WANT YOU SEXUALLY TOO

Cole: That's not kinky, that's just abusive

Lloyd: CAN WE STOP USING THE TERM “BLONDE BITCH”

Cole: That’s not how you do it! Straddle me HO!

Kai: I didn’t mean to kick you in the coochie! Jay, I’m the distance: Be genital with her!

Cole: Yeah, also Jay tackled me and then grabbed me in between his legs and Kai jumped on top and Jay smacked his ass and I tried to record so Kai tried to smack my phone out of my hand and missed and his finger went right in my eye so I rolled over screaming and they got up and threw pebbles at me

Cole: It sounds naked! Music!

Kai, to anyone after they say Wu seems chill: He looks like a big soft squishy man but he is not

Zane: On average, in order to feel happy, you need to be touched, (pokes Jay) 8 times a day Kai raises two fingers on each hand: I’m about to make you ALL happy" *every person at the table in unison scoots away*

Zane: You looked like lord farquad but in a cute way!

Jay, after getting a pizza shoved at him. The pepperoni sanitized my facehole

Kai: I am the WITNESS! VICTIM! And I will play ... the e x e c u t i o n e r .

#ninjago #incorrect ninjago quotes #incorrect quotes #lmao #s: my friends #the most these were edited were like #the names #and like #'band practice' to 'training' or something #yes I'm aware my friends and I are all crackheads #also peep the shameless self promo

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abouldersbxtch · 3 years

Text

Long Overdue

NSFW Warning!!! (TW: Mentions of assault)

“Get up.” Nightmare threw a pillow at Shigaraki’s head as he laid there on his bed with his eyes closed. When the pillow hit him in the face, he threw it to the side and glared over at her. “I wasn’t asleep.” Nightmare gave a small shrug, ignoring his annoyed tone. “I know. Get up anyway.” She turned her back to him and started rifling through drawers and boxes in the room as if she was looking for something specific. Shigaraki huffed as he sat up on the bed, but didn’t fully get up. “What the hell are you looking for?” “Don’t worry about it. Just get up. We’re going on a little trip.” Shigaraki’s brows furrowed together in confusion, unable to recall any specific plans he had for the day. “Did someone find more recruits or something? Where are we going?” He finally rose up from the bed and grabbed his long black jacket and pulled it on while Nightmare continued searching. “No and no one else is coming. This trip is just you and me.” Shigaraki was pulling on his shoes, but he froze when she said it was just going to be the two of them and let out an irritated sigh. “I don’t have time for this Night.” Nightmare grinned when she found what she had been looking for and quickly stashed it into her pockets before turning to face him. He had sat back down on the bed and was starting to remove his shoes which had her narrowing her eyes at him. “Yeah, you’re so busy just laying here doing nothing. Tell me, how long was I in prison?” Shigaraki groaned. “Don’t start this aga-” “How long?!” Nightmare snapped at him, cutting off the rest of his words. He stared at her and clicked his tongue before crossing his arms across his chest. “Seven years.” She started walking closer to him with her tail angrily snapping from side to side. “Seven fucking years, and what were the last words you said to me after they took me away?” His eyes were on hers as she got closer to him. “I don’t know.” “Yes you do. Don’t lie to me Tomura.” She hated calling him by that name, but with the risk of the others being around, she knew that was what she had to call him. Shigaraki swiped his tongue across his teeth behind closed lips before he answered her with a slightly quieter voice. “I said that I’d get you out.” She stood in front of him, standing between his legs as her eyes stared down into his. “You’re missing some parts. You said, and I quote, ‘Don’t worry Kai. I’ll get you out as soon as possible. Just wait for me. I promise I’ll get you out.’. So I waited for you. I waited for you to save me for seven years Tomura.” Shigaraki finally broke eye contact and looked to the side. “I told you I’d get you out as soon as possible and that’s what I did. It’s not my fault it took this long.” In an instant, she squatted down so she was at eye level with him and her hand snapped out and gripped his chin and turned his face so he was looking at her again. “If you’re going to lie to me, lie to my face. I’ve known you since we were children. I know when you’re lying to me. You could have saved me sooner. Especially with his help, but he never liked me. He always wanted me out of the picture. That’s why you didn’t come for me sooner, right?” Shigaraki nodded slowly, looking her in the eyes now. Had this been anyone else besides Nightmare, the moment they put their hands on him, they’d be dust. Nightmare was different though. She was more than just a pawn to him. He would never admit it out loud to anyone but her, but she was his best friend and the person he trusted the most, even more than his ‘master’. Shigaraki reached out and grabbed the wrist of the hand that was gripping his chin and he squeezed it gently while extending his pinky so his quirk wouldn’t activate. “Where are we going?” Nightmare looked down at him and a small smile replaced the cold dark look that had been on her face.

Compress made his way through the building until he was at Shigaraki’s door. He knocked a few times before pushing it open to see both Shigaraki and Nightmare getting ready. “You called for me Shigaraki?” Tomura finished putting his shoes on and looked up to see Compress in the doorway, nodding slightly as he got up from the mattress again. “You’re in charge until I get back. We’re going out for the night. If you need me for anything, call the burner phone.” Compress was a bit surprised to hear that they were taking off, but he nodded regardless. “Alright. What if that singing woman shows up?” “I doubt she’ll come back so soon but if she does, deal with her however you want. Just try not to kill her yet.” Shigaraki shoved his half gloved hands into the pockets of his jacket and walked past Compress, making his way out of the room with Nightmare following close behind. Nightmare looked up at Compress as she pulled the hood of her jacket onto her head, narrowing her eyes slightly. “If you call that phone for anything less than a major emergency, I’ll kill you.” She patted his prosthetic arm with a large smile and took off after Shigaraki when she heard him call out her name. “Night, come on! If you don’t keep up, we’re not going!” She didn’t even bother running towards the stairs and instead, she jumped over the railing and dropped down to the floor below, gracefully landing on both feet. She took off again and skidded to a halt at the door where Tomura was waiting for her and he couldn’t help but smirk at how eager she looked. “What are you so excited for? It’s like you’ve been waiting for this for a long time or something.” Night grinned and nudged him with her shoulder on her way through the door and out into the cold evening air. He followed after her and they walked side by side in the shadows while they made their way through the city. “So what exactly is the plan here Kai?” Nightmare had linked her arm around his while her free hand hung at her side and her eyes scanned the area, alert and wary just in case anyone saw their faces under their hoods and recognized them. “Hmm? Oh I figured we could just go somewhere nice and spend the night together.” Tomura couldn’t help the chuckle that came from him and he arched a brow at her in curiosity. “Oh yeah? And just where the hell do you propose we stay the night?” She gave a small shrug as she tugged him towards a crosswalk. “Depends. Did you want to have some fun or just get straight to relaxing?” Knowing her, ‘having fun’ meant killing someone and if he was honest, his hands were itching to have some ‘fun’. However, with the plans he had, they both needed to lay low for the time being and not attract any kind of attention to themselves. “Let’s just relax. We’ll have ‘fun’ another night.” Nightmare huffed in disappointment but didn’t protest. “Fine. Then we’re going this way.” She tugged him this way and that, weaving them through a crowd of people quickly and carefully and he allowed himself to be dragged by her. Yet another action among many that if done by anyone else who wasn’t her, they’d be turned to dust. Finally, they were within the shadows of an alley once more and Night looked up at him when they were alone. “You stay here. If I’m not back in ten minutes, go back to the hideout.” She was about to walk off, but he reached out and grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him, gazing down at her with the slightest bit of concern in his eyes at her choice of words. “And just where do you think you’re going?” Nightmare hadn’t seen him look at her that way in a long time and it made her heart race momentarily before she regained her composure. “I’m just going to get us some food. I don’t know if anyone will recognize me. That’s all.” Tomura scoffed and threw his arm over her shoulders and started walking with her towards the end of the alley. “I’m not hungry. We can eat when there’s less of a chance of there being any crowds.” Nightmare gazed up at him, a warm smile coming to her face as she laced her fingers with his hand that was over her shoulders. “Whatever you say Tenko.”

About twenty minutes later, the two of them approached a house with Nightmare’s guidance. A few lights were on inside and there was a car parked in the driveway. “What is this?” Tomura questioned as he looked down at Night. “This is where we’re staying for the night. Give me five minutes and then go knock on the front door.” “What exactly am I supposed to say when someone answers the door?” Nightmare smirked and started to walk away from him. “You won’t have to say a single thing my love. Trust me.” Tomura watched her until she disappeared around the side of the house and once she was out of sight, he leaned up against the side of the car while waiting for the five minutes to be up. Once Nightmare was in the backyard, she made her way to one of the windows in the spare bedroom that she had tampered with and broken a few days ago. Just as she thought, it had gone unnoticed and was still broken, which allowed her to easily push it open and slither inside like a snake. Once inside, she carefully and quietly closed the window and made her way to the open bedroom door, peeking around the corner and down the hall. By the sound of it, it seemed that the elderly man who lived in the house alone was sitting in the living room watching TV. She had scoped the house enough to know he only had the one TV and it was in the small living room where the front door was. That meant there wasn’t a big window of opportunity between Tomura knocking the door and the old man answering it. She bent down and quickly slipped off her boots and left them in the spare bedroom along with her hoodie before she tiptoed down the hallway. As soon as she reached the archway that connected the living room and the hallway, she pressed her back against the wall, goosebumps covering her skin when it made contact with the cold wall. A moment later there was a knock on the front door and the elderly man rose up from the couch and made his way to the door. Night peeked around the corner and once his back was to her, she started to quietly but quickly walk after him. By the time he was at the door, she was right behind him and the moment he opened the door, she struck like a viper. She was on his back and her talon like nails dug into the sides of his head, getting a good grip on him before she made a harsh twisting motion. A loud and sickening crack echoed throughout the living room as she snapped the old mans neck. He dropped to the ground and she once again landed gracefully on her feet, her teal eyes lifting to see Tomura standing there waiting in the doorway. “Told you you wouldn’t have to say anything.” A wicked grin plastered itself on Tomura’s face as he walked through the threshold of the house, stepping over the old mans body and then kicking the front door closed with his foot. “That’s my girl.” Nightmare’s eyes lit up with excitement and she beamed with pride upon hearing his words. “This place is officially ours for the night.” She walked off towards the kitchen to see if she could find anything to eat or drink and while she was gone, Tomura removed his shoes and jacket and tossed them aside carelessly. He looked down at the old mans body and removed his glove before reaching down and placing his hand on the mans head, his quirk activating and turning the old man to dust. “Sorry gramps. Your body just kinda laying there might ruin the mood.” He smirked darkly as he rose back up and made his way towards the kitchen where Night had gone.

When Tomura arrived in the kitchen, Nightmare was walking towards him with two open beer bottles, one in each hand. “Look what I found. Are you still a lightweight?” She teased as she approached him and held one of the bottles out to him. He scoffed and took the bottle from her. “Maybe. It’s not like I have the time or money to go out drinking.” She lifted her bottle to her lips and took a few gulps and her teal gaze dropped to his unoccupied hand that he had left ungloved, her brow raising in interest. “If I go into the living room, is there still going to be a body there?” Tomura leaned against the wall and smirked as he took a swig from the beer bottle. “No. You’ll find a pile of dust though.” Night chuckled darkly and nodded as she walked over and hopped up onto the counter, sitting down and letting her legs hang over the side as she quickly downed the rest of the bottle. As she set the empty bottle aside, Tomura stared at her, absentmindedly sipping at his beer. “So what do you wanna do for the rest of the night Tenko? We’ve got the place to ourselves and we don’t have to worry about being on the run or anything. You can finally relax for the first time in what I assume is a long time.” Knowing that asshole All For One, he probably never gave Shigaraki a moment to just relax. That was why he had framed Nightmare and put her in a situation she couldn’t escape from. He was the reason she had been taken to prison all those years ago and Shigaraki had no idea. She had always been a ‘distraction’ for Tomura and she always encouraged him to let loose and have fun and to not be so paranoid all the time. All For One didn’t appreciate her efforts one bit, but he couldn’t just get rid of her. Not with how close she and Tomura were, so he set her up and she was caught. Tomura only finished half the bottle before he walked towards her and set it down next to her empty bottle, positioning himself between her dangling legs and staring into her teal eyes. To almost anyone else in her current position, most would probably be intimidated, especially with his track record, but she was unafraid. She was never afraid of him or his quirk. She trusted him more than anyone else. With his half gloved hand, Tomura reached out and tangled his fingers in the unruly hair on the back of her head and pulled her face to his, letting his lips hover over hers while his ungloved hand rested on her thigh, his thumb extended so it didn’t touch her. “I know exactly what I want.” A shiver ran down Night’s spine and her eyes lifted from his lips to his eyes while a small smirk played on her lips. “Then take it. It’s yours.” Tomura flicked his tongue out across his lips with a grin, taking a moment to stare at the longing look in her eyes that he knew was mirrored in his own eyes before he crashed his lips with hers. As soon as his lips were on hers, both of her hands flew to either side of his face and pulled him further into her while her legs wrapped around his waist. Still grinning into the kiss, Tomura removed his hand from her hair and wrapped it around her, pulling her to the edge of the counter and as close to him as possible without actually pulling her off. Their mouths crashed against each other and parted, their tongues swirling in each others mouths until they had to break apart, leaving them both breathless. Tomura’s hands went to grab the bottom of Night’s shirt, but before he could pull it off, she stopped him and looked up at him while panting lightly. “Tenko, wait. I have something for you.” She unwrapped her legs from around him and shimmied herself off the counter and he reluctantly stepped away from her. “I’ll be right back. I promise.” She leaned up and kissed his lips gently and then hurried out of the kitchen.

Night hurried into the spare bedroom where she had left her hoodie and she quickly started digging through the pockets until she found what she was looking for. When she returned to the kitchen, she had her gift hidden in one hand behind her back while she extended her free hand out to him. “Give me your hand.” “You’re not going to propose to me are you?” Tomura teased as he placed his half gloved hand in her hand and she rolled her eyes. “Shut up and close your eyes.” He did as she requested and once he did, she pulled out her gift and carefully fastened it around his wrist. “Okay, open them.” When he opened his eyes, he looked down to see a rather thick and somewhat heavy metal bracelet around his wrist. He didn’t understand what it was meant to be and the confusion was evident on his face, so Night reached out and pulled his glove off of his hand. When she went to touch the palm of her hand to his, he quickly yanked his hand away. “Are you out of your mind?!” Night smiled and held her hand out to him. “Do you trust me?” “Of course I do. Don’t ask such a stupid question.” Tomura took a step away from her. It wasn’t her that he didn’t trust. It was himself and his quirk. Flashbacks of him disintegrating his family flashed through his head and he wasn’t about to let that happen to her. “Tenko, I know you’re scared, but trust me. Touch one of my horns if that will make you feel better. We can hack it off if your quirk activates.” He stared at her in disbelief and confusion. “What do you mean if?” She didn’t offer him and explanation and instead, she got closer to him, standing right in front of him as she stared up at him. “You’re not going to hurt me.” Hesitantly, Tomura reached out and gently placed his hand on her right horn, wrapping all his fingers around it except for his pinky which he kept extended. She could see the hesitation on his face and tension was radiating off of him, so she reached up and gently placed her hand on his cheek, caressing his skin with her thumb while giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay.” It took a few minutes but Tomura finally curled his pinky around her horn as well, gripping it gently with all five of his fingers and much to his surprise and relief, nothing happened. She didn’t start to decay. She was perfectly fine. “H-How did you..?” He couldn’t tear his eyes from his hand on her horn, afraid that if he looked away something might happen. “I did some tinkering with some quirk cancelling handcuffs that I snatched from the police. That’s why it’s such a hunk of metal, but I figured it’s better than nothing. When was the last time you fully touched something, Tenko?” If he had to recall the last time, it was probably one of the times he had been in contact with Aizawa and he had cancelled his quirk, but aside from those instances, he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember the last time he touched something or someone without them turning to dust in his grasp and now there he was, holding a part of her and she was still there in front of him. It was almost too good to be true. He knew she was smart, but he didn’t know she was capable of taking those huge quirk cancelling handcuffs that the police and Pro Heroes used and condensing them down to a singular, albeit hunky, bracelet type thing that was still capable of fully cancelling someone’s quirk. Somehow, even after knowing her for eighteen years, she still found ways to surprise and amaze him.

It was a few minutes of silence between them while he just stared at his hand on her horn before he finally tore his gaze away from the contact and looked down at her. He let go of her horn and slowly lowered his hand down and placed it on her cheek and at the same time, he raised his opposite hand placed it on her other cheek, cupping her face in his hands. Red eyes stared at his hands on her face and he didn’t know how to react. Sure he had touched her before, but there always had to be a single finger off of her and sometimes he even took the extra precaution of having two fingers off of her at times. It had been like that even before she got taken away to prison. He was always so careful when it came to her and now, being able to fully touch her, something he hadn’t been able to do the entire time they had known each other; it felt surreal. Night just stood there, staring up at him and giving him all the time he needed to process everything. His hands left her cheeks and started trailing down her body, moving from her face to her neck, to her shoulders, down her arms, and then to her sides, just under her arms. From there, they trailed down the sides of her body, his thumbs brushing against the sides of her breasts over her shirt until they landed on her hips. His eyes followed his hands everywhere they went until he finally gripped her hips and yanked her up against him, red gaze finally meeting with hers. “I’m going to touch every inch of you.” He wasn’t asking for permission, and honestly, he never needed to. He knew she was his and if anyone other than her ever tried to say otherwise, Night was the one to cut out their tongue. With his grip on her hips, Tomura lifted her petite body and set her back on top of the counter and then pressed his body up against hers while positioned between her legs. His lips found the side of her neck and she tilted her head to the side, giving him more access to her skin. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her grip on them tightening when he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of her neck while his hands hastily started to undo the jeans she was wearing. Her heart started racing and goosebumps covered her skin as he left bite marks along her neck and small moans spilled from her mouth at the same time. Once her jeans were undone, he gave a harsh squeeze to her hips, signaling her to lift them so he could take the jeans off. She quickly removed her hands from his shoulders and placed her palms flat on the counter behind her, keeping her propped up as she lifted her hips for him while digging the heels of her feet into the cabinets below. As soon as her hips were lifted, Tomura gripped the sides of her jeans and her panties underneath and started yanking them down her legs and once they were around her knees, Night lowered herself back down onto the counter. As soon as her skin came in contact with the cold tile of the counter, it sent a shiver through her body but she ignored it as he tore the jeans and panties off her ankles and tossed them to the side. Shortly after he was on his knees on the ground and he looked up at her with lust filled eyes. “Come.” He didn’t need to say another word. As soon as he gave his command, Night was doing as she was told and she placed her legs on his shoulders and lowered herself down until the small of her back was digging into the side of the counter and her arms were still keeping her torso on the counter while his arms wrapped around the sides of her thighs and his hands gripped the tops of them.

Once they were settled in that position and her cunt was right in front of his face, Tomura gazed up at her, locked eyes with her and then ran his tongue up the length of her slit. He licked up all the arousal that had been pooling between her thighs since he first had his lips on her neck with just that one swipe of his tongue. Night let out a hiss of pleasure and her talon like nails curled against the tile of the counter, leaving scratch marks in their wake. “Fuck..” Tomura smirked as he watched her reaction to just the one move and it was just as arousing to see as it was all those years ago. She rolled her hips with a low whine, trying to get her aching pussy as close to his mouth as she could, but his grip on her thighs kept her in place. “What’s wrong Kai? You look so needy.” “Tenko, please.” She whined again as she stared down at him and her plea only made the sadistic smirk on his face grow. “Please what Kai?” “Please eat my pussy.” She rolled her hips again, needing to feel some kind of friction against her. Satisfied with her pleas, Tomura wasted no more time and delved further between her thighs. His tongue pushed into her and as soon as it did, she threw her head back and moaned at the feeling. She had been waiting for this moment for over seven years. No one else had ever touched her, though some tried, but she was Tenko’s and his alone. Feeling his tongue push and pull in and out of her tight pussy felt like heaven. Much like she asked him to, he was devouring her like a starving man. His tongue vigorously fucked her, thrusting in and out and curling to reach her sweet spots. After a few minutes he pulled his tongue out, slurping her juices as he did before he latched his mouth around her throbbing clit. As soon as his mouth was on the sensitive bud, Night couldn’t help the way her thighs tightened around his head and her nails dug further into the tile, leaving deeper indented scratch marks this time. A smirk came to Tomura’s lips when he felt her thighs tighten around his head, so he dropped one of his hands from her thighs and pushed his index and middle finger up into her wet waiting hole. He pushed them in agonizingly slow while swirling his tongue around her clit with his eyes glued to her face, watching every pleasured expression that she made. “Fuck, fuck, fuck..” Night moaned louder and bit down on her bottom lip harshly, that warm feeling spreading through her body as her orgasm approached. Tomura moved his fingers in and out of her slowly and every time he pushed them in as far as he could, he curled them and pressed the coarse pads of his fingertips against her most sensitive parts and it drove her absolutely insane. He could feel her inner walls start to clench around his fingers and she started to roll her hips down against his hand and that was all the evidence he needed to know she was close. He removed his mouth from her clit and stopped his fingers while they were deep inside of her. “Stop moving Kai. You cum when I say you can.” She lifted her head and looked down at him with a pleading look on her face and she couldn’t help but whimper. “T-Tenko please.” No one other than him would ever see her like this; a moaning, vulnerable, pitiful, submissive mess and he relished in that fact. “Please what? Use your words.” “Please let me cum.” She whimpered again as she stared down at him with big teal eyes that practically begged for him themselves. He pulled his fingers out of her only to shove them back into her harshly, over and over again which made her throw her head back again. Loud high-pitched moans spilled from her lips and echoed throughout the kitchen and she could feel the pit in her stomach growing. From how tightly her pussy was clenching around his fingers, he knew she was dangerously close to her orgasm so he pulled his fingers out of her and it was instinct that made her growl at him. He narrowed his eyes up at her and roughly bit her inner thigh, causing her to yelp at the sudden pain, but that yelp quickly morphed into a pleasure filled moan when he pushed his tongue back into her pussy. He vigorously swirled his tongue inside her, hitting every wall and sensitive spot he could reach and she was writhing in his grasp, both hands now gripping her hips tightly. “T-T-Tenko! Please! Fuck, please! P-Please let m-me cum!” She was struggling to hold back her orgasm and he could tell by how desperate her cries were, so he took pity on her and smirked against her. “Cum.” As soon as he gave her permission, both of her hands flew to the back of his head where she gripped his hair, her tail coiled itself tightly around one of his arms and her thighs squeezed the sides of his head. “Tenko!” Waves of pleasure came crashing down on her as she screamed his name, making her back arch and toes curl, simultaneously putting all of her weight on his shoulders, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. He rose up to his feet, using his tight grip on her hips to lay her down on the counter but not for one second did he stop devouring her pussy. Her cum flooded his tongue and he slurped and swallowed every drop he could, continuing to tongue fuck her through her orgasm and for a few moments after it was over. By the end of her orgasm, Night’s thighs released their grip around his head, she collapsed her once arched back onto the counter and her fingers that had been gripping his hair were now gently running through it while she panted heavily.

Tomura stood up straight and when he did, her legs fell from his shoulders but remained on either side of him with him standing between them with a satisfied smirk on his face. “You taste as good as I remember. Wanna taste?” Night nodded slowly, her mind fuzzy from her orgasm. He leaned over her and she could see the slick on his lips and chin when he leaned towards her and it turned her on even more than she already was. He pressed his lips to hers in a hungry kiss and pushed his tongue past her lips, letting her taste her own juices on his lips and tongue which made her groan into the kiss. She kissed him back just as hungrily, albeit a bit lazily until he broke the kiss to stand back up straight and gaze down at her. “Get on your knees for me Kai.” He took a step back and she obediently slipped off the countertop and sank down to her knees in front of him, her legs shaking slightly from the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Still so good for me after all this time.” He reached down and caressed the side of her face gently, causing her tail to snap happily from side to side as she looked up at him with big teal eyes. “I’ll always be good for you Tenko. You know that.” “Yes I do.” He stood up straight and moved his hands to unfasten his jeans and Nightmare’s eyes were now glued to the bulge protruding at the front of his pants. Once his jeans were undone, he pushed them and his boxers down around his thighs, letting his hard cock spring free from its confines and Night’s tongue ran along her lips with a hungry look in her eyes. She leaned in, eager and ready to take his cock into her mouth, but he gripped one of her horns when she was just about to touch it and he made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, ah. Beg for it Kai.” Night tore her eyes from his twitching cock and glared up at his face. She was impatient and he knew that, but she wasn’t surprised that he had stopped her. He had always loved having that control over her. Despite her glaring eyes, she whimpered and her body wiggled in need to please him. “Please Tenko. Let me have it. Wanna make you feel good too. Please.” She whined and he smirked down at her and released her horn from his grasp and gave her a firm nod. “Go ahead.” As soon as he gave her permission and released her, Night was excitedly reaching for his cock with one hand, gripping the base of it while she leaned in and ran her tongue up along his length. Tomura let out a satisfied hiss of pleasure at the feeling of her warm tongue on his aching cock and he reached down with one hand and pushed her short messy black hair out of her face, holding a fistful of it at the top of her head so it wouldn’t obstruct his view of her sucking on him. Teal eyes were locked onto his face as she continued to run her tongue up and down the length of his cock and the faces he made had her pussy clenching around nothing, but she wasn’t focused on her pleasure at the moment. She was determined to satisfy him, but then again, where was the fun in just giving him what he wanted? Maybe she also wanted to see him squirm, regardless of the punishment that would most likely accompany any taunting or teasing she did. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she finally took the tip of his cock into her mouth and she sucked on it gently, but the tip was the only part of his cock in her mouth while her hand lazily stroked the rest of his length. Tomura let out a light gasp when he finally felt the tip of his cock encompassed behind her lips, but when it became clear that she was in the teasing type of mood and she wasn’t going to take more of him, he looked down at her and narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t play coy with me Kai. You’ll regret it.” Unphased by his threat, Night gave him a challenging look while simultaneously giving a hard suck to the tip of his cock. Tomura grunted at the sudden hard suck and he growled down at her with a sinister smirk on his face. Without giving her a chance to prepare herself, Tomura reached down, grabbed both of her horns in his hands and used his grip on them to yank her head towards him while shoving his entire length into her mouth and down her throat. Night’s body tensed at the sudden move and her hands flew to his hips, her talon like nails digging into his flesh and drawing blood. Her nose was smashed up against his pelvis and she couldn’t help the way she gagged around him and the pitiful whimper that was muffled by his cock. Tomura hissed in pain when her nails dug into his skin, but it didn't distract him or stop him from holding her head in place with his grip on her horns while he started to ruthlessly fuck her face. Over and over he pulled his cock half way out of her mouth to give her throat a small second of relief before he drove it right back down into it again, moaning at the way her throat constricted around him every time she gagged or choked on him. While he relentlessly fucked her mouth, Night was desperately trying to suck on him and also swallow the mix of his precum and her saliva, but there was so much that it trickled out of the sides of her mouth, trailed down to her chin and dripped onto the tiled floor under her, leaving a small puddle. The warmth and wetness of her mouth combined with her sucking and licking and the way her throat constricted around his cock had Tomura rapidly approaching his climax. Curses, moans, and groans spilled from his mouth and his brutal pace didn’t falter and Night couldn’t help the muffled moans and whimpers that came from her throat in between her gagging and choking on his length. “Fuck, such a good little slut for me Kai. You want my cum? Hmm? You want to taste me again?” Night made desperate sounds of affirmation and she started sucking on his length harder, especially when she could feel his cock throbbing and pulsating on her tongue and Tomura couldn’t help the smug grin that plastered itself on his face. “That’s a good little whore. So desperate for me. Make me cum then Kai.” He released her horns and looked down at her, red eyes locking onto her face and watching as his entire eight inches disappeared between her lips. She took him all the way into her mouth and into her throat and held herself there despite the way she gagged and choked around him. She sucked as hard as she could while running her tongue along the sensitive veins on his cock and after a few of those motions, Tomura was reaching down with one hand and grabbing the back of her head, fisting her hair as he shot ropes of his cum down her throat with a loud groan. Night swallowed the salty and bitter substance without hesitation and gave a few more soft sucks to get the rest of his cum that was still dripping from the head of his cock. When she pulled her head away, she released his cock from her mouth with a pop and a few strings of saliva and cum connected her lips to him until she ran her tongue out along her bottom lip with a smug grin on her face.

Tomura was panting lightly as he stared down at her before he turned around and started to walk away. “Come on.” That was all he said as he disappeared through the archway of the kitchen, but Night wasn’t about to disobey him. Quickly, she pushed herself up to her feet on wobbling legs, but she followed after him while removing her shirt and leaving her naked, dropping the shirt in the hallway on her way. When she found him, he was taking his shirt off in the bathroom and she already knew what he wanted. She walked past him to go turn on the shower, but when his eyes saw her topless form, he was quick to reach out and grab her horn and pull her back to him. “And what are these?” He asked, releasing her horn and lowering his hand down to her pierced nipples where he pinched one, his eyes locked on her face. “You didn’t have these when they broke you out.” Night yelped at the pinch to her sensitive nipple before smirking up at him, brow quirked with sass written clear across her face. “Or did I? I don’t know Tenko. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen me completely naked.” She smirked and turned, sliding the glass door open and leaning in and turning the water on. With her bare back to him, he spotted the end of what looked like a scar poking out from the edge of her hairline at the back of her neck and his brows furrowed in curiosity. “This is new too.” He reached out and gently touched the tips of his index and middle finger to the edge of the scar and he could feel her body tense at his touch. “You just have my body memorized, don’t you?” She half joked, trying to distract him from the scar, but after feeling the way she tensed up, he wasn’t going to look past it. “Of course I do. Were you picking fights in prison, Kai?” She stood up straight, reluctant to answer him, but she never wanted to lie to him or hide anything from him, but it also wasn’t something she liked to remember. “Not necessarily.” She gulped slightly and stepped into the shower, sighing softly as she stepped under the warm water and it soaked her hair and ran down her petite body. Tomura could tell something was wrong, but he removed the rest of his clothes and got into the shower with her and closed the glass door before standing behind her and gently placed his hands on her hips. “Talk to me Kai. What happened?” Night was quiet for a couple of moments, trying to focus on Tomura’s touch and his presence to help ground her. “A guard tried to...” She trailed off for a second. “While I was in there, one of the guards tried to touch me. He hit me on the back of the head with his night stick or baton or whatever the fuck it’s called and then he tried to-” Tomura used his grip on her hips to turn her around to face him and the look on his face was a look of nothing but pure anger and hate, but despite his visible anger, his hands moved to cup her face gently. “Who? Give me his name. I’ll hunt him down and rip him apart.” A small smile appeared on Night’s face and she could feel her heart race slightly as she reached up and gently placed her hands on top of his and shook her head. “He’s already dead love. I killed him.” He stared down into her eyes, his expression softening as he let out a somewhat irritated sigh at the fact that the man was already dead. “Fine.” There was a brief moment of silence between them before Night moved his hands from her face down to her hips and then trailed her hands up his arms until they were resting on his biceps. “I don’t want to think about prison or anything that happened in there. I’m here with you now Tenko. That’s what I want to focus on. Tonight is for us, so let’s focus on us, yeah?” Tomura nodded wordlessly in agreement and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Night kissed him in return, but as the kiss continued, it became less gentle and more passionate and Night was using her grip on his biceps to pull them closer to each other until their bodies were flush up against each other. The warm water rained down on them and steam filled the room, fogging up the glass doors of the shower. Tomura gripped her hips and lifted her effortlessly and she instantly wrapped her legs around his waist while her hands slid up from his biceps to rest on his shoulders, neither of them breaking the kiss until Tomura pressed Night’s back against the cold tile wall of the shower. As soon as she felt the cold tile against her skin, the cold was enough of a contrast from the water and steam that had been warming her body that she let out a gasp against his lips and goosebumps covered her skin. By now, Tomura’s cock was hardening again and she could feel the tip of it pressing against her thigh and she looked up at him with half-lidded eyes as she rolled her hips down towards him, wanting to feel some kind of friction. With his grip on her hips, Tomura guided them down so his cock lined up with her entrance and he slowly pulled her down onto him while pushing up into her at the same time, letting out a low groan at how tight she felt around him. Night’s breath hitched and her nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders, drawing blood like they had done on his hips in the kitchen and a gasp spilled from her open mouth as she felt his cock fill her up, making her feel as if she was filled to the brim so much that it almost hurt. “T-Tenko...” She whimpered and her back arched, pressing her chest against his while her head canted back and pressed into the tile wall. Tomura stilled himself after pushing his length all the way inside of her, giving her time to adjust to his size like she always had to. Her petite body always struggled a bit whenever they had sex and that hadn’t changed in all the years they had known each other since they had become intimate. He pressed his forehead against hers, his wet hair dripping down onto her face while the shower water hit his back and the parts of her legs that were wrapped around him. After a moment or two, Night finally opened her eyes and looked up at him, panting lightly as she nodded her head to let him know she was ready and that he could continue.

At first, Tomura moved his hips slowly just in case it became too much for her. He lazily rolled his hips up into her while also pulling her down onto him in time with his thrusts, making sure to push his length as deep inside of her as he could. Whimpers and moans spilled from Nightmare with every thrust and she tried to push herself down against his thrusts as much as possible, but his grip on her hips made it hard for her and he narrowed his red eyes as he looked down at her, their foreheads still pressed together. “Be patient Kai.” Half-lidded teal eyes looked up to meet his ruby red eyes with a pleading look in them and she let out a desperate whine. “F-Feels s’good Ten...Wanna f-feel more. Pl-please. I need m-more.” Tomura gave a sharp snap of his hips, driving his cock roughly up into her just once before he stilled himself again, enticing a loud moan from Night before he reached up with one hand and cupped the side of her face gently. “I said, be patient. You can do that for me, right love?” That one word made her melt and she instantly nodded her head. He wasn’t the kind of person to use that word lightly, or ever, even with her; so when he did say it, it always made her heart skip a beat and made her feel a mix of pride and excitement. “Good girl.” He praised her with a smirk before pressing his lips to the side of her jaw, trailing it down to the side of her neck where he started to kiss, bite, and suck on her soft wet skin, leaving marks in his wake. While his mouth worked on her neck, his thrusts up into her gradually got faster, his one hand still on her hip while his other hand had dropped from her face down to her one of he breasts where he pinched and teased her pierced nipple. Loud gasps and moans spilled from Night at all the stimulation she was getting and her body felt like it was on fire, the hot water and steam from the shower only adding to the heat. With every thrust into her, he was hitting that one spot that drove her crazy and she could feel her orgasm rapidly approaching her which had her digging her nails further into his flesh and her moans got louder and more desperate sounding. “Ten! Fuck! G-Gonna cum! F-Feels too good!” Tomura kissed across her throat to the opposite side of her neck where he bit her harshly when she said she was going to cum. With how light she was, he was able to comfortably release her hip and move both hands to her tits where he pinched and rolled her pierced nipples between his fingers harder than before and he was still able to drive his cock up into her faster and harder. He had her pinned against the wall more than before, pressing her back further against the wall while grabbing her breasts and massaging them and also using them as his hold on her. That familiar warm pit in her stomach finally spread out across her body as her orgasm hit her and she screamed his name as the waves of pleasure crashed down on her. “Tenko! F-Fuck!” Her inner walls clamped down around his cock when her orgasm hit her, but that didn’t stop him or slow him down and he continued to fuck her through her orgasm, his pace quickening and getting more brutal rather than gentle. “That’s my good girl. Cum for me.” He groaned against her neck, his own orgasm approaching, but he was determined to make her cum again before he did. He lifted his head and pressed his forehead against hers again while his hands moved back to her hips, his grip on them hard enough to leave bruises on her skin as he ruthlessly fucked her. Red eyes stared at her face, admiring the fucked out expression on her face. The way her eyes rolled back from the pleasure, her tongue lolled out while moans and cries of pleasure spilled from her mouth all fueled the fire that was his orgasm. For Nightmare, her body was still overly sensitive from her last orgasm and the way he was fucking her was only rapidly building up her next orgasm. “G-Gonna cum again...” Her words came out between heavy pants and moans, her legs tightening around his waist and her tail wrapping around one of his legs, as if to help ground her through her second orgasm. Once again the waves of pleasure crashed down on her, but this time Tomura muffled her moans with his lips on hers, kissing her hungrily. When she came again, her walls clamped down around his cock again and this time it was enough to bring him over the edge and his cum shot out, rope after rope deep inside of her cunt. His thrusts faltered as he came and gradually they slowed down until they finally stopped, leaving both of them panting heavily against each others lips. Night’s hands fell from his shoulders and her legs unwrapped themselves from around his waist and when they did, he quickly moved his hands to her thighs and held her up so she wouldn’t fall. As he held her thighs, he could feel them trembling and he couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on his lips. “You okay Kai?” Teal eyes fluttered open slightly and she gave him a small nod with a weak smile. Tomura hoisted her up slightly, pulling out of her and pulling her torso against his and away from the wall at the same time. “Hold on to me.” Night lazily wrapped her arms around him under his arms while resting her head on his shoulder. Once he figured that that was as good of a hold on him that he was going to get from her, he turned them around and let the lukewarm water rain down on them for a few moments before he reached out and turned it off. They would take an actual shower later, but for now, that would have to do. With one arm still wrapped around Nightmare, holding her against him, he reached out with his free hand and opened the sliding glass door and stepped out.

After making his way through the house and into the bedroom, Tomura laid Nightmare on the bed and she whimpered when his touch disappeared, but she was too tired to go after him as he walked out of the room. Night shivered as she laid there, her skin still damp and her hair still soaked from the shower and goosebumps covering every inch of her. Shortly after leaving the room, Tomura returned with a towel wrapped around his waist and another towel in his hand as he approached her. When he got to the edge of the bed, he leaned over her slightly and started to dry her skin with the towel, starting at her feet and making his way up each leg, between her legs which enticed a small gasp from Nightmare, but Tomura continued what he was doing. He dried her hips, both of her sides, her stomach and up to her chest, making sure to be gentle around her piercings just in case they snagged on the towel. He finally reached her arms and her shoulders and dried those as well before gently drying off her horns and once he finished drying her off, he tossed the towel to the floor and turned to walk away, but her tail wrapped around his wrist and she whimpered again. “Tenko.” She mumbled his name while her tail tugged on his wrist gently, finally getting him to turn around and look down at her with an arched brow. “Stay.” Ever since they broke her out of police custody, Nightmare had barely left Shigaraki’s side and whether she said why out loud or not, they both knew it was because she was afraid of being away from him for a long time again. It wasn’t necessarily that she was afraid of being away from him, but more of the fact that she was afraid of something happening to him and her not being there to protect him or the risk of her getting taken away from him again. Tomura sighed and turned back to face her and unwrapped her tail from around his wrist. “Get under the covers and I’ll be right back. Promise.” His tone was gentle, more gentle than he would ever use with anyone who wasn’t her, so she nodded and pulled the blankets out from under her and covered herself with them while resting her head on the pillow. While she was getting comfortable, Tomura went through the house and gathered all their clothes and brought them into the bedroom with him, closing the door behind him and dropping their clothes to the floor. Just in case anyone showed up, he wanted their clothes nearby if they had to make a run for it even though he was sure that if there was a chance of someone showing up, Night would know and she would have told him. She was smart enough to scope a place thoroughly enough to know who came and went frequently, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to be careful. Once he was sure all of their clothes were in the room with them, Tomura unwrapped the towel from his waist and let it fall to the floor as he made his way to the bed and climbed in next to Nightmare under the covers. As soon as he was settled, Night moved herself closer to him and then climbed on top of him, straddling him and laying on top of him with her face buried in the crook of his neck and her hands gently resting on his chest. He wrapped an arm around her, draping it across her lower back while his other hand gently caressed her thigh and he closed his eyes. It was silent in the room until Night whispered quietly against his skin, half asleep already. “I love you.” He didn’t say it back and she didn’t expect him to, but he did give her thigh a small squeeze as his response which caused a small smile to appear on her lips as she nuzzled against him a bit more. Tomura Shigaraki was not a gentle person and didn’t care a lot about anyone or anything unless it had to do with his ‘masters plan’. He’s killed countless people and didn’t think twice about it and it never kept him up at night. Most outside of the League found him to be cold and distant and uncaring. Nightmare was basically the same. She had always been a loose cannon and killed for fun. She’s tortured people and ripped them apart without remorse and most wouldn’t even try to touch her. Both Tomura and Nightmare are feared people to anyone but each other. When they’re together, they aren’t Tomura and Nightmare. They’re Tenko and Kai and very different people that others never get to see. The versions of themselves that they are around each other are only meant to be seen by each other. They both know the trauma and heartbreak the other has been through. Kai is always there to soothe his nightmares and hold him when his past haunts him and Tenko is there to remind Kai that she is much more than the demon that the people of her past painted her out to be. They’ve never been the type of couple to be ‘labeled’ as such and they’ve never felt the need to explain what they are to each other or what they have. That’s why, regardless of if they tell each other they love each other or not, it doesn’t matter. They both know how the other feels and that’s all they really need.

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anotherkpopvictim · 4 years

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Seven Is Our Lucky Number - OT7 Story Chapter 7

(Picture source - Edit is by me, but thank you so much to NANA.K for the scan of the photo)

Chapter 7: Seven Forever

A/N: Finally, we’ve made it to the last chapter. Finally, the boys are going to be all together.

I wasn’t actually planning for this last chapter to become Taehyung-centric, but it kind of did. It’s sill OT7 though.

A few specific pairings that were requested are NamKook, VMin and JiKook, so I incorperated those. I also did my best to get some interaction between as many pairings as I could, with only a few that I couldn’t fit in, but the next time I write something with everyone, I will include the ones I missed.

Just a quick warning that they tell each other “I love you” an obnoxious amount of times in this, so I sorry not sorry for that. I’m a fluff monster, alright?

I’ll stop rambling now so you can enjoy ;)

Relationship: BTS X BTS

Rating: M (smut, swearing)

Words: 3977

WARNINGS: This chapter, unlike the others, contains smut, so please do not read if that makes you uncomfortable.

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The six members of Bangtan eyed their second youngest with wide, shocked eyes and slacked jaws. Namjoon was opening and closing his mouth like a fish as he struggled to produce any words, and everyone would have laughed at the ridiculous expression had the focus not been situated elsewhere.

Taehyung could practically see the wheels turning in their heads as they processed what he’d just told them.

Jungkook, who was still seated next to him on the couch, was the first to recover as he’d had his suspicions for a while. “Hyung...” he started, voice full of amazement. “Hyung...that’s so cool!”

Taehyung was the one to be dumbfounded now. “You...you believe me?”

“Of course!” Jungkook jumped up to kneel on the couch cushion and grabbed at his hyung’s arm excitedly. “We really have a lucky number? That’s sick as fuck!”

Taehyung looked a little relieved at the maknae’s response and then turned to eye the rest of his boyfriends with shy trepidation.

Hoseok grinned, “Kookie’s not wrong - it is pretty sick.”

Namjoon looked contemplative, “It’s still hard to wrap my head around but it is...quite astonishing.”

“Astonishing,” Seokjin repeats in a fond voice, eyeing the leader sat on the couch over. “That’s such a Namjoon thing to say. Fuck, you’re so cute.”

Namjoon, totally not blushing at all, looked away with a dimply smile.

Jimin, still perched in Taehyung’s lap, pouted, “I can’t believe I was so drunk that night I can’t remember such an important event!”

Taehyung chuckled, relieved by his boyfriends’ reactions, and poked Jimin’s pouty lower lip.

“Why didn’t you tell us, Taehyung?” Yoongi questioned.

The second youngest bit his lip, guilt going over him. “I...I didn’t think you’d believe me.” Before anyone could protest, he continued with a shake of his head, “You wouldn’t have. Don’t lie to me. If you guys hadn’t figured out our lucky number for yourselves, you would have thought it was just part of my ‘four-dimensional personality’.”

The air quotes and bitter tint to his voice gave away Taehyung’s familiar insecurities about himself.

“Hey!” Jungkook punched him lightly in the arm and he turned to see the other now pouting as well. “I would have believed you if you told me seriously. You’re unique, hyung. You’re special, and there isn’t anything wrong with that. You know that.”

Taehyung did know that. Each and everyone one of the members had told him that a few years ago when the title alien haunted his thoughts at night and their relationship was still in it’s blooming stage. He’d accepted himself now and the words didn’t usually get to him anymore, but every once in a while - like now - those all too familiar insecurities reared their ugly heads.

“I know,” he reassured genuinely. “I know.”

There was a silence then, as everyone took in everything that had happened in the last hour. Jimin couldn’t help but run his hands all over Taehyung’s body, wanting to scratch that itch of his that begged for him to comfort and show Taehyung just how much he was loved.

A mischievous smirk crawled its way onto Jimin’s lips. “You know,” he began with that buttery tone of his that meant nothing good (or everything good). “We haven’t done anything together, all seven of us, for months. I’d say we’re overdue for a group bonding session.”

Yoongi snorted at Jimin’s words.

Hoseok hummed in agreement, “I miss all of us being together. I guess this can be a celebration of our lucky number!”

No one else looked like they were going to disagree, so Jimin turned back to Taehyung and grabbed his face in his small hands. “I love you, my TaeTae,” he said softly.

“Love you, too,” Taehyung replied before his lips were captured in a sweet, passionate kiss. His hands were on Jimin’s hips, and as the kiss got deeper between them, they slipped up and under his shirt so he could feel Jimin’s baby soft skin.

They separated a short time later, grinning big goofy smiles at each other. When Taehyung looked around, he could see that Yoongi had come over to their couch to give Jungkook sweet kisses, as Namjoon, Seokjin, and Hoseok all took turns pecking each other gently on the lips.

Nothing was sexual, not yet. It was all just pure, tender love that they were showing each other. Though, they all knew that wouldn’t last for long.

“Why don’t we take this upstairs to the bedroom,” Jimin suggested, standing up from Taehyung’s lap and offering his hand to him.

Murmurs and grunts of agreement came from the others and slowly but surely, the seven boyfriends made their way up the stairs and to their special bedroom at the end of the hall on the right.

The bedroom had been renovated so that most of the floor was actually a built-in bed that could hold all seven of them on it with room to spare. They had a small closet and set of drawers that held all of their, ehm, play things, as well as condoms and probably too much lube. A few large, comfortable chairs and couches were scattered around the room as well. The entire room was designed specifically for days like these - which were, unfortunately, few and far between with their schedules - where they could all be together, all seven of them.

Seokjin and Yoongi grabbed each of Taehyung’s arms the moment they stepped into the room and he went with them willingly over to the far side of the bed. No words were spoken as they pushed the second youngest down onto the soft mattress and immediately crawled on top of him.

Seokjin peppered Taehyung’s face with kisses, causing him to giggle. “It tickles, hyung!”

“Let me show you my love!” Seokjin replied.

Yoongi was working on sliding Taehyung’s large t-shirt up his torso and over his head, mouthing softly at each inch of golden skin that appeared. “My gorgeous, wonderful, talented, unique, extraordinary Taehyung, I love you so so so much.”

The eldest rapper’s words caused a blush to creep up Taehyung’s neck and cheeks. They made him feel so happy and warm inside. “Love you, too, hyung.”

Hoseok and Jimin had taken one look at the trio on the bed and turned to each other, both waggling their eyebrows in an immature, suggestive manner.

“We’re dorks,” Hoseok laughed.

“Good thing we’re sexy, too, huh?” Jimin snickered.

Hoseok wasted no more time in grabbing the younger by the collar of his shirt and bringing their lips together. Jimin almost instantly poked his tongue into the older man’s mouth, his dick already kicking in his skin-tight jeans. It wasn’t a surprise, really, as Jimin was always so easily turned on by his boyfriends loving on each other, sexual or not.

Jimin pulled the two of them down onto the other side of the floor-bed from where the trio was, Hoseok slipping easily between Jimin’s legs and holding himself up on his elbows as they continued to make out passionately.

Jungkook locked eyes with Namjoon from across the room, and despite having been in a relationship with them all for literally years, the maknae couldn’t help but feel shy under the leader’s burning gaze. A familiar rouge dusted Jungkook’s cheeks as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Come here, Kook-ah,” Namjoon summoned, his voice both soft and demanding in tone.

The maknae wasted no time stumbling to his feet from the chair he had been sitting on and moving past the others to get to the older man. Jungkook hesitated for only a second before he slid into Namjoon’s lap completely, his legs on either side of his waist.

“Good boy, prince,” Namjoon praised.

Jungkook snorted out a little laugh as he remembered their skit from earlier, but couldn’t hide from the older that the pet name made his dick twitch in his pants.

Namjoon’s hands grabbed at his waist, teasing the skin peeking out from under his shirt. Their lips fell together naturally, easily, and Jungkook all but melted in his hyung’s arms as the sweet kiss quickly became more intense.

After Jimin and Hoseok had been making out for a while, Jimin became distracted by three on the other side of the bed.

Hoseok noticed his lustful gaze as they continued to grind against each other. He smirked, “Our TaeTae looks so good, doesn’t he?”

Jimin whimpered and nodded his head, eyes never tearing from his soulmate.

Taehyung did look good. Seokjin and Yoongi had done an incredible job using their mouths and soft touches to pleasure the second-youngest. Eyebrows pinched together, mouth agape - Taehyung was a sight to behold.

“Shall we go steal him from our hyungs?” Hoseok whispered conspiratorially.

The man beneath him nodded again, much more frantically this time.

Hoseok and Jimin sneaked up on their two hyungs, grabbing them both from behind gently and peppering kisses over the backs of their shoulders.

“Hi, babies,” Seokjin purred, gripping Hoseok’s arm as it slithered around his middle.

Yoongi moaned as Jimin began nibbling at the nape of his neck teasingly, which made the younger giggle and tighten his hold.

Jimin and Hoseok locked eyes over their hyungs’ shoulders and broke into smug grins as they easily pushed their two unsuspecting boyfriends out of the way. The two of them immediately laid themselves on either side of Taehyung - their true intended target this whole time - practically covering him with their bodies.

“Yah!” Seokjin and Yoongi shouted indignantly.

Once they realize that they were only going to be ignored, they sighed and turned towards each other. It took just seconds for them to make their way over to one of the free comfy chairs, lips locked and hands at each others’ shirts.

Taehyung, surprised by his two more of his boyfriends, relaxed into their touches as Jimin began kissing and sucking at his neck.

“I still can’t believe I forgot that night all those years ago,” he mumbled against his neck. “Actually, what I really can’t believe is that I got so drunk! How irresponsible of me.”

Taehyung and Hoseok both chuckled.

“It was pretty irresponsible of you, both of you,” Hoseok replied, pointedly looking at Taehyung before falling back into his easy smile. “But it’s far in the past. There’s no use worrying about it now.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung agreed with an excited smile. “Don’t worry about it and just give me kisses instead!”

Now it was Jimin and Hoseok chuckling.

Jimin smirked and ran his hand down the front of Taehyung’s torso sensually. “Kisses, baby? Are you sure you don’t want more than that?” He squeezed the prominent bulge in the younger’s pants quickly, eliciting a strangled moan out of him.

“Want more, want more!” Taehyung replied, a little frantic and out of breath with desire. He always had been so easy to rile up. “Want everything you want to give me.”

Without any more fanfare, Jimin slipped his hand under the hem of Taehyung’s loose pants and boxers and took hold of his cock. In familiar movements, he pressed and pulled and tugged at Taehyung’s sizable dick, knowing just how to make the younger man feel good.

Hoseok swallowed Taehyung’s pleased moans as he leaned over to capture his lips tenderly. “Fuck, you sound gorgeous,” he whispered against his mouth.

Jimin shifted his body slightly so his own aching dick was pressed against the side of Taehyung’s thigh and he could still jerk him off without too much trouble. Jimin couldn’t help but whine at the waves of pleasure that went over him as he started rutting against Taehyung’s thigh, slowly at first, then faster as he lost his grasp on control.

Namjoon and Jungkook finally separated themselves enough that they could see the rest of their boyfriends easily. With one last kiss and a smirk, they split up, one going towards Jimin, Hoseok, and Taehyung, and the other going towards Yoongi and Seokjin.

The two oldest members were completely naked by now, and their hands slid over each other’s bodies in something like admiration and desperation. Yoongi was straddling Jin’s lap when Namjoon came up to him from behind and wrapped his arms around him.

“Don’t you dare try what Jimin did earlier and try to take hyung away from me,” Yoongi threatened, even though he was slightly out of breath and didn’t exactly sound all that threatening.

Namjoon chuckled, “I didn’t see that, but it sure sounds like our Jiminie. Don’t worry, I want to join you two.”

“In that case,” Yoongi gave him a grand smile. “Welcome. Hands and mouths and dicks are appreciated anywhere and everywhere.”

Jin laughed underneath him, “I mean, he’s not wrong.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes fondly before leaning down to press kisses against the skin of Yoongi’s neck and reaching out with one hand to grab Seokjin’s thigh.

Jimin let out a startled squeal when he was suddenly lifted up and away from Taehyung and Hoseok. Half confused and half upset, he pouted and began swatting at the arms around his waist. “Hey!”

Then, he was being laid down on one of the small couches and Jungkook was climbing on top of him with a smile on his face - one that was surprisingly not mischievous but genuine. “Wanted you for myself, Jiminie,” the maknae explained as his hands moved quickly to remove the clothing from Jimin’s body. “Haven’t loved you in so long.”

Jimin melted at the younger’s sweet words, his own hands moving to Jungkook’s pants to push them down and off.

Once the two of them were completely naked, Jungkook adjusted himself to a more comfortable position above the older man and then took both of their aching cocks into his hand.

The two of them let out simultaneous groans of pleasure as Jungkook began jerking the both of them off.

Namjoon, Seokjin and Yoongi had moved over to the opposite side of the bed from Taehyung and Hoseok, falling into the fluffy sheets in a tangle of limbs. Both Jin and Namjoon’s bodies covered Yoongi’s completely, keeping him pinned down.

“Look at them,” Taehyung all but purred, his hand lazily jerking Hoseok off but his eyes never straying from the rest of his boyfriends scattered around the room.

Hoseok himself was fairly busy between fingering Taehyung open and marking up his chest with little hickeys. He glanced up at the younger’s words and found that he certainly wasn’t wrong.

The maknae had Jimin pinned on the sofa, his large hand working at their obviously aching erections. Jimin had his own hands clutched desperately in Jungkook’s hair, making a mess of the dark brown locks.

On the other side of the bed, they could see Namjoon giving Yoongi a blow job while the two oldest made out. It was a little difficult to see, but after a few moments, Hoseok recognized the half-hidden movements and moans as Yoongi jerking Seokjin off.

“And they’re all ours,” Hoseok growled out, his throbbing dick demanding more attention. He pulled his fingers out of Taehyung’s ass and spread the leftover lube over his cock. As he fit himself further between the younger’s legs, he brought him in for a lustful kiss. “They’re so fucking hot.”

Taehyung moaned loudly, both in agreement with his hyung’s words, but also because Hoseok never wasted any time sliding straight into his ass. Giving him no time to adjust (not that he needed it) Hoseok pulled back and then thrust his hips forward, beginning a familiar, rapid pattern specific to Hoseok.

Maybe it was weird, but yes, Taehyung did think that all of his boyfriends fucked him in unique ways. Seokjin was always slow but hard, what Taehyung truly thought felt the most like true love-making.

Yoongi was slow and had endless patience, never falling for any of Taehyung’s tricks to get him to move quicker and instead usually receiving a slap to the ass.

Namjoon liked to give it to any of them hard and fast. Looking over at him hastily fingering Seokjin open as the oldest hovered over Yoongi, he was displaying his familiar behavior already.

With Jimin, it was always a surprise. He was different depending on how he felt that day or what his boyfriends’ weaknesses were. That little devil wasn’t joking when he was talking about adapting to wants in Filter, except he also loved to watch his boyfriends squirm.

Jungkook, perhaps unsurprisingly, gave it hard and fast, just like Namjoon. However, unlike Namjoon who had amazing control over his actions and emotions, Jungkook was almost reckless. He never hurt anyone, of course, he wasn’t that harsh, but it was no doubt a wild ride whenever any of them were fucked by him (pun intended).

Now poor Jimin, who always loved to tease them, was getting taste of his own medicine from the maknae as he jerked them both off at the perfect pace. Jimin hated the perfect pace, because it always brought him close to the edge so quickly, but he knew Jungkook wasn’t going to let him come until he came first.

“I hate you,” he groaned out.

Jungkook laughed, “Love you too, Jimin-ssi!”

Taehyung choked on his own laugh at them as Hoseok found his prostate, the tip of his cock easily hitting the bundle of nerves inside of him.

The way Hoseok fucked was slow and hard, holding whoever in was down dominantly. Like now, he had Taehyung’s hands pinned above his head as he thrust in and out of him.

“Hobi-hyung,” Taehyung managed out between breaths, “You guys are, like, the best people ever. You’re all so fucking beautiful and I love you.”

Hoseok giggled a little elatedly, “Love you, too, my baby. Always.”

“Fuck! Right there, Joon!” Seokjin moaned out as Namjoon thrust his fingers repeatedly against his prostate, barely leaving any time for him to catch his breath. His hand tried to keep jerking Yoongi off, but the haze of pleasure made it difficult to remember to focus.

Yoongi was busying himself with marking up the oldest man’s neck with pretty love bites, moaning whenever Seokjin gave a particularly pleasant tug to his cock.

Namjoon watched the two below him with barely concealed lust. His own dick was aching and leaking against his stomach at that point, begging for some kind of attention.

He pulled his fingers out of the older’s ass and lined his dick up quickly. Seokjin didn’t even have to time to feel the emptiness of the fingers before he was stuffed full of Namjoon’s cock.

Yoongi didn’t mind that Jin’s hand went still around his dick because he had the wonderful sight in front of him to admire. One of his hands lifted and ran through the oldest’s chestnut locks, pushing it out of his face.

“Taking him so well, hyung,” Yoongi praised.

Seokjin let out a desperate moan as Namjoon began to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He tried his best to keep touching Yoongi but only succeeded in a slow, uneven pace - not that Yoongi seemed to mind.

On the contrary, Yoongi quite enjoyed the sight of his oldest boyfriend losing control of himself to pleasure.

Seokjin let his head fall and rest on Yoongi’s thigh as he just took what Namjoon gave him. That familiar heat inside him was building and he knew he wasn’t going to last long. “Oh shit! I-I can’t hold it!”

“You need to come already, hyung?” Yoongi teased. “Does Namjoonie feel that good?”

Seokjin could only nod a whimper as the tip of Namjoon’s cock rubbed against his prostate euphorically. He readjusted himself, lifting himself back up on his hands and knees as he got closer.

Namjoon had his brows furrowed in concentration, eyes on the two below him as he refused to relinquish his brutal pace.

Yoongi hummed and continued to run his hand through Seokjin’s hair. “You want to come on me, hyung? Get my thighs all messy?”

And that was all Seokjin could take really. “Yes!” he all but screamed. Only seconds later he felt himself tipping over the edge, a whine spilling from his lips and his cum spurting over his own stomach and Yoongi’s thighs.

Namjoon came after a dozen more thrusts, spilling into the tight heat of Seokjin’s ass. “Fuck.”

Seokjin, still in his post-orgasm haze, ran a few fingers through the mess on Yoongi’s thighs before grabbing the eldest rapper’s dick again, the come making the slide easier.

Now it was Yoongi who was close, having been hard the entire time he was enjoying his boyfriends’ show. It didn’t take many jerks before he moaned loudly and came all over his own stomach.

It was then that Namjoon and Seokjin fell forwards, collapsing half on top of Yoongi on the mattress below them. They took a few moments to catch their breaths and then looked around to see what their other boyfriends were up to.

Jungkook’s grip on his and Jimin’s cocks loosened as he got closer. Jimin was moaning and trying his best not to squirm around beneath him.

“Hyung...” Jungkook moaned out.

“It feels so good, Kookie,” Jimin panted. “Fuck, you know just how to get under me skin, you little punk.”

Jungkook giggled. “Love you, hyung.”

“Love you, too.” Jimin replied, leaning right into Jungkook’s ear to say the words.

There was no warning before Jungkook groaned as he came suddenly all over his and Jimin’s torsos. He pouted as he rode out his orgasm. “Y-You cheater.”

Jimin choked on his chuckles when the maknae began jerking him off faster and harder. “Ah...ah!” The new pace took him by surprise and he came only moments later.

“You can’t tell me you love me!” Jungkook pouted, “You know that makes me come instantly.”

Jimin giggled breathlessly before pressing kisses all over the maknae’s face.

Taehyung and Hoseok were still watching their boyfriends closely, and as each one of them reached their orgasms they became closer themselves.

“It’s our turn now, Taehyung-ah,” Hoseok whispered to him. His hips hadn’t lost their pace and continued to pound his cock into Taehyung’s tender bundle of nerves. “Can you come for me, baby?”

Taehyung whimpered and nodded, letting out a high-pitched whine as his impending orgasm finally washed over him.

Hoseok swore under his breath as the younger tightened around his dick, causing him to cum with just a few more hard thrusts. He loosened his grip on Taehyung’s hands which were still held above his head. The younger tangled his fingers immediately in the older man’s dark locks.

They all fell into a sort of silence for a minute, the only sounds being heard were their attempts to catch their breath. Jungkook and Jimin made their way over to the giant floor-bed and collapsed in the middle, pulling their boyfriends in closely.

“Well, damn,” Seokjin exclaimed. “That was amazing. We need to do this more often.”

The other six grunted and giggled their agreements.

“We won’t be able to with our promotions coming up,” Yoongi said, sounding like he didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news.

“That’s okay,” Hoseok replied, “That just means that when we can be together like this again it will be even more special.”

“I love you guys,” Taehyung slurred out tiredly. “Never forget that.”

Jimin cooed and turned to press a kiss to his lips. “Never. Love you too, baby.”

Declarations of love sounded around the room, making Taehyung break into a big, boxy smile.

“Hey, guys!” Jungkook shouted suddenly. “Guess what?”

“What?” Namjoon replied indulgently.

The maknae grinned brightly, “It’s seven o’clock.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

A/N: So this was undoubtedly the most difficult chapter for me to write (hence why it took me sooooo long to post). I’ve never written OT7 smut before and I found it really hard transitioning back and forth between them in the scene. Hopefully, it didn’t turn out too bad, but if you guys have any constructive criticism then please feel free to leave it in the comments!

Hope you enjoyed the story <3

And remember that if you’re going to stream the Dynamite MV to do it properly so the views count!!! Check out xCeleste on Youtube if you need to, she made a video all about it.

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straynstay · 5 years

Text

Hyunjin - Hybrid AU!

being popular wasn’t something you looked forward to when entering college, but it happened

now here you were making necks twist to watch you walk down the hallway

that’s what you get for being one of the few humans in a hybrids-inclusive college

most people wouldn’t even consider applying to study here after it became pretty much ruled by hybrids, but you didn’t mind

you like your course, you like your teachers, and your colleagues, even though they follow you around making you look like an idol or something

you entered your classroom already knowing that your favorite seat will be vacant with candies or a snacks on top

“oh, there’s cards too” you smiled reading the cheering words from your admirers

since day one boys and girls go out of their way to please you somehow

need a pen? here’s seven! hungry? let me buy you the entire menu! need a ride? you can have my car!

it’s been a year and a half, but you’re still not completely used to it

they’re so nice to you because you’re human, sometimes you wonder if that’s the only reason for it

hybrids were created to be men’s pets and obey their orders, but after decades of evolving they began conquering their own space

yes, some still prefer to be companions, but others are trying to live life in society like normal human beings

however, their genes still make them bow to human’s will, and it bothers you because you feel like you’re taking advantage of them most of the times

“good morning” your Medieval English Literature teacher entered the classroom and you put your stuff down to start your day

“I’m dead tired” Lia, a sheep hybrid and one of your closest friends, said plopping her head on the library table

you both decided to study together for your Shakespeare on Contemporary Media exam, which would be in two days

“I’m seeing Shakespeare everywhere, I’ll probably won’t even flinch if his ghost shows up in front of me”

“thou comest in such a questionable shape” you quote Hamlet in a funny voice, earning a laugh from Lia

“hopefully he won’t tell me to murder anyone” Lia’s ears were hiding in the curls of her black hair and you knew she was really tired

“go rest, Lia, we can study more tomorrow”

“yeah, guess I’ll do that” Lia gathered her belongings “you’re staying?” she asked

“uhum” you sighed, stretching your arms above your head “I still need to finish my paperwork for Mrs. Ray”

“good luck” Lia raised her eyebrows “see you tomorrow”

“see ya” you smiled seeing Lia leaving the shared study room

you decided to move to the single tables on the common area of the library because they were closer to the bookshelves

you shoved your stuff quickly into your backpack and left

fortunately there was almost no one at the library at night, so you could choose which table was best, setting your backpack on it

not far away from your table, though, someone was thoughtfully observing your every move

Hwang Hyunjin was the librarian’s assistant this semester

he was a shy and awkward alpaca hybrid, but in love with you, like everyone else in this college

although he doubted anyone liked you more than him

he felt his heart beating faster when you walked towards his counter, but you turned right on the English Literature aisle

Hyunjin let out a short breath, running his fingers through his hair to calm him down

you didn’t even notice him, why was he so nervous?

you returned from the aisle with two books and sat down, allowing him to admire your profile

Hyunjin could only stare from afar, wishing one day he’d be bold enough to say hi

you were so beautiful, your skin so smooth without any fur or scales

his fingertips itched to touch you, to feel your warmth, to caress your hair and be intoxicated by your scent

Hyunjin muffled a wail watching you so close yet so far from him

it was slowly killing him inside knowing that it wouldn’t take long for another hybrid to ask you out

and what if you say yes? what if the hybrid asked to be your pet? or even worse, what if you become their partner?

oh, Hyunjin was dying thinking about these things

but there you were, focused on whatever work you had to do, unaware of your effects on the poor boy

you were so smart, so dedicated, Hyunjin felt himself falling harder in love

not too long after, you got up again to adventure yourself on the the same aisle

Hyunjin tried to take a peek at your table to see what you were working on, but his counter was a bit too far for that

he did, however, draw what he could see from the two books you got on a random piece of paper just to check them out later

maybe if he read what you’re studying, he might have a topic of your interest to start conversation someday

he was waiting patiently for you to show up with another book, but that didn’t happen

you were taking too long for a simple task such as grabbing a book, Hyunjin got worried

he got up from his seat and went after you

he entered the English Literature aisle only to see you on your tiptoes, right arm stretched out, struggling to grab a yellow book from the top shelf

the boy let out a funny noise unconsciously, calling your attention to him

“I-I’m sorry” he said looking at his own feet, babbling “I didn’t mean to spy on you, but you’re here for quite some time, so I came to check on you, and, well, you’re short and I’m sorry again but it was really really cute seeing you try to reach that book over there, and I’m really tall, so maybe I should grab it for you?” he moved towards you, still staring down, and easily pulled the book you wanted, handing it to you

Hyunjin was embarrassed, but with your cheeks burning from the proximity, you were even more

“thanks” you replied sweetly, finally being able to see his face because he was brave enough to look at you

“you’re even more adorable up close, oh God, I’m going to die” Hyunjin placed his hand on his heart, closing his eyes and holding his breath

you would laugh at his dramatically cute reaction if it wasn’t for a wild boar hybrid interrupting you two

“yo, llama boy, where’s Kafta’s books?” the guy towered over you two, but you didn’t feel intimidated at all

“i-it’s o-over there in the-the-the German section” Hyunjin stuttered a lot, but pointed to the right direction

“I’m gonna need help with this paperwork, alright?” his words actually meant: you’re doing it for me

Hyunjin only nodded in fear, trying hard to stop shaking and humiliating himself even more in front of you, ruining any tiny chance he ever had with you

that’s when you saw the dude’s smile of satisfaction, and you couldn’t take it anymore, you had to confront him

“hey, idiot, he’s an alpaca, not a llama, can’t you see his small ears and fluffy hair? Besides, it’s Kafka, not kafta, you uncultured swine”

the wild boar hybrid was taken by surprise and lowered his ears in respect to you

“I’m sorry” he said almost whispering

“you better be! now go write your own paperwork and leave Hyunjin alone” your glare made him go away in a blink of an eye

“y-you didn’t have to…”

“it’s okay, I know he’s been an asshole to you, I had to do something about it”

“you know?” Hyunjin’s neck got red “wait, you know my name too?”

“yeah” you replied holding the book tightly against your chest, blushing even more

no one knew, but he was your long time crush and you were getting tired of just stalking him around college, so you thought it was the right time to finally confess your suffocating feelings for him

“is it weird if I say that I sometimes go to the coffee shop at the Arts building just because I know it’s your favorite place to hang out? and that I’m studying at the library almost everyday this semester because you’re here?” you let out an awkward laugh

“aaand that I’ve been trying to find any excuse to talk to you, but I never think of the right thing to say, so I end up giving up? and that maybe I’m dying to go on a date with you if you want to?”

was Hyunjin hearing things right? you were not only saying that you like him, but you’re asking him out?

oh, this is probably the best day of his life!

out of all of the hybrids you liked him? the shy alpaca whose special trick is spitting long distances?

the one who cries every night for being away from his family group?

who whines all the time to himself for being too awkward to have friends?

who dies everyday seeing his crush walking around the campus thinking he’ll never have a chance?

he was nothing special compared to the other hybrids, but here you were in all your adorableness confessing your feelings

he could at least muster up some courage and say something, right?

“how about…” Hyunjin cleared his throat to avoid stuttering, he was so nervous, he felt like his heart would leap out of his chest

“how about we go grab a coffee, then?” as soon the words were spoken, his eyes got sad “oh… nevermind, I forgot I have to close the library tonight”

you wouldn’t let this golden opportunity pass by so easily, so you smiled at him

“it’s fine, I’ll go first and order for us before they close too”

“are you sure? I mean…”

“yeah, don’t worry about it” you smiled again to reassure him

“oh, okay, well, I usually have-”

“a hot chocolate with extra toppings and a slice of quiche” you interrupted him

Hyunjin’s eyes were wide

“I notice you, Hyunjin” you shook your head “I’ve been noticing you for a long time… too long, to be honest” you admitted

the boy was at loss for words

how was this happening? was he dreaming? the person he likes likes him back? what? what was he supposed to do now? he never thought his biggest wish would come true

“can you wait a bit?” Hyunjin left the aisle quickly, running back to his counter and screaming at the top of his lungs that the library night shift was over

you couldn’t believe Hyunjin was kicking everyone out thirty minutes earlier

you laughed seeing him smiling so brightly for the first time, and your heart was filled with joy for you were the reason behind it

Hyunjin was exultant, barely able to contain his long awaited happiness

he was on cloud nine, over the moon, on top of the world, on seventh heaven… he was feeling it all!

you not only notice him, but want to be with him, the shy, awkward alpaca hybrid

what else would Hyunjin wish for besides being loved by you?

#i almost didnt post this today #my wifi sucks #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids blurbs #stray kids drabbles #stray kids AU #stray kids hybrid #stray kids #skz #hyunjin #5/9 #190518 #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop AU #kpop hybrid

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skelffricat · 3 years

Text

Good grief, Charlie Brown.

I’ve never owned an electric toothbrush. I’ve never had a dishwasher. I am the dishwasher. I like washing dishes. I never bought an iron. I don’t have a hairdryer. I find it strange that I get advertised these reusable alternatives for things that I never use anyway. Alternatives to cling film. I put another plate over the dish. Alternatives to cotton buds. I use my finger. (Ew, you may say, but surely a finger’s that size to fit in ears and nostrils? Or whatever orifice you please. Wash your hawnds.) Alternatives to cotton wool circles. What? I dont know why these thoughts have come into my head, when I want to write about my youngest child. Really, I’m meant to be working, but an annoying email from my dead daughter’s school sent me down a suicide rabbithole. Perhaps those other thoughts come about as my classic brain avoidance schemes. Like when you hoover instead of doing an essay. Positive procrastination, I used to call it. I wanted to visit some friends last night- a fun thing! but I was feeling all solitary and awkward. I cleaned the bathroom ceiling at first, instead! I had to really talk myself into going to see them. I was looking at my bed and it was saying, “Get into me! and read your book!”

Then I went, and I had a lovely time, of course. I still finished the book I was reading, when I got home at midnight, until three am, making myself ever so tired. I’ve stopped taking the tablets- beta blockers and mirtazapine (more by accident rather than design. They’re still up in the chemist waiting for me. I’m rather disorganised) and so sleep doesn’t come as readily. I have to take deep breaths for ages sometimes, to get over. And I awake in the night hearing things that aren’t there. I heard The Woodcarver calling me, one night, plain and loud as day. Another time, I heard my son knocking my door three times, sharply (or was it a burglar? I said that to someone and they laughed. Burglars don’t knock! Oh, hello there, wake up, I’m robbing you blind!) Bounced out of bed. Heart hammering. Called him. He was fast asleep. Was it her ghost? I don’t believe in ghosts, really. Kind of wish I did. She’d be a mischievous one, no doubt. Is it always 5:57am, when I awake? The same time. Time to find your dead child.

I’m often in the house alone, now. They didn’t want to leave me alone, and there were so many people in the house, for ages. Then all of a sudden, it stopped. And I changed lovers... I changed to the one I’d been in love with for over a year, the one who seemed too young, the one who wasn’t interested. Suddenly he was interested. Well. It wasn’t sudden. It took a few weeks. Seven weeks? The seven week itch? It coincided with when the Scottish lover asked me to stop letting other people come to the house. He wanted me to himself. Which is kind of fair enough, though I knew it wouldn’t last anyway. (People coming to my house, I mean, not the relationship. I really enjoyed having a relationship with him. He is very sweet, funny, intelligent, and kind. The sex was great. He can cook wonderful food and play guitar well. I liked to sing with him. I am ashamed to say I was bothered by his being smaller than me, though. His face tended to itch me, too- he never quite grew a beard long enough to stop that. As he kept shaving it off, not because he couldn’t. That was the first time he kind of annoyed me, though.)

Lockdown doesn’t help, of course. We were all breaking rules in our grief. Covid is cancelled, my mother said. Masks off. Hugs all round. A friend told me you need extra oxytocin when you’re grieving. I was getting plenty of it. Good grief...

Now I am frequently alone, and as my new lover is very busy studying (or perhaps less interested in me again now that he has my attention back? Though his reticence in getting with me stemmed from his concerns about the uneven nature of our interest in each other...) I haven’t seen him all week. I feel myself becoming depressed, and withdrawn, and paranoid, yet I still don't feel particularly sad about my daughter’s death. Which is strange. Isn’t it? Here is the email I received from her school this morning (it had her name and class at the top of the email):

“Good morning

I hope this email finds you all well.

A number of years ago I signed the college up to the campaign against period poverty. I receive and distribute sanitary products to girls, primarily on free school meals, but any who are in need of the products and either can’t afford them or it is difficult to get them. The products are normally distributed by myself, during P.E and games, unfortunately this can’t happen at present.

These products are still available during the school closure. If you wish to avail of them, please contact our school info account (which is only read by one member of office staff) your request will be directed to me and I will contact you directly regarding collection.

These are difficult times for many at present and to quote my favourite supermarket, ‘every little helps’.

Kind regards...”

I was really with her until she quoted Tesco. And said they were her favourite!! Ugh! I mean, it really is a great idea. Though they really should check if the people they are writing about are still capable of bleeding. My heart bleeds....

I replied thus:

“Hello there.

Great idea, but as (my youngest daughter) has died, she won't be needing them any more. I hate Tesco- they ruin many little businesses.

Maybe take me off this mailing list?”

Then I attached one of her seven suicide notes: the one for school. Which I had previously not shown them. I only found it on Christmas Eve. Can I attach it, here? It has no names...

There we are. Is it wrong of me to find her notes amusing? She is so angry, people say. I wonder how much of it is literal, and how much of it is using the school as a big nameless scapegoat. She was funny in the rest of them, too, and very loving. I found them comforting, like a fucked up Christmas present.

Then I started reading articles about suicide, and they were about how we shouldn’t call the people who do it selfish, about how depressed they are, how they need pity, not anger. I’m tired of the pity (though I’m not the suicidal one). I’m not producing enough sadness from myself when people pity me, either. Where is my sadness? Am I too acceptant of it all? We are all going to die. Is suicide like a C-section? Is it cheating death, like I thought my Caesareans cheated birth? Is suicide self euthanasia? Why do I not miss my daughter more? Is it because she had already left? Was she released, happy, free as a bird, swooping away on an Awfully Big Adventure? Trapezing her way into the æther? I googled to see if I could find any positive reactions to suicide. Is this my nature, to try and find the good in everything? To try and make light of the horrific? Is everything a joke to me?

I found this blog post, from Andreas Moser.

I love it. Am I trying to take the blame away from myself? The NHS? The school? Should I be reeling and railing against the systems that let my daughter get into that state? Why am I instead trying to find ways to applaud her behaviour, accept it, even enjoy it?! When I read his words, “I admire their courage (because logical as it may be, it’s not easy) and the determination to make the ultimate decision in life oneself.” I felt a strange sensation of relief, that someone else could think those things. I had been thinking them, but trying not to, because it seemed like such an awful thing to think. But then I think, why does anyone else have to be to blame? It was her decision.

The book I was rereading is called Life After Life, by Kate Atkinson. It’s my favourite book, I have decided, for now. Do favourites stay favourites? I was looking at my old Couchsurfing Profile today (because of Andreas’ blog- he, as a hippy hermit, is, of course, on Couchsurfing). One needs to update these every so often. Explain that you have watched another film in the last twenty years, that there is one less sofa in your living room, one less child on your earth. Even though no-one is allowed to move around, really. No visiting. No exploring. Perhaps she killed herself to escape the boredom.

In Life After Life, the main character, Ursula, lives again and again. (I forgot that to live again and again, she had to die again and again. It's a very sad and graphic book, spanning two wars- read it. It is, ultimately, uplifting.) I wanted to read it again to make my daughter live again, and again. We need to write her alive. Show her drawings and paintings. Listen to her songs (they're hilarious). Read her poems. Admire her photographs. Tell the stories of her antics.

I know that really she was actually depressed and withdrawn. I know it isn’t a glorious escape. That her wee head was broken, and that sometimes it’s just easier to say, it was unfixable, she was determined, this is what she wanted, than to contemplate it as my (or anyone else’s) failure to help her. I know that she used to be confident and gregarious. She would have danced in front of people, inspiring others. She was always upside-down, tumbling, twirling, cartwheeling. She had a dry, cheeky wit, and rather an amusing obsession with poo and wee. She was kind, and wise. She liked to bake vegan treats. She could draw, and paint, and sing so beautifully. She played the ukelele, but by then she was hiding away. She had started to write poems- songs? She wouldn’t show us them. We had to beg her to perform on the trapeze for her Granny’s eightieth, in July. She did so, beautifully, but you could tell she hated the attention. Four months later, she hanged herself on it.

Had we all withdrawn into ourselves, this 2020? Was there really nothing else to do? Yet I remember the start of Lockdown seeming idyllic. All that free time, all that sunshine. Was I just trying to convince myself, as usual? The only people we saw were the Woodcarver and the neighbours. She taught the wee boy next door to ride his unicycle. When she died, he brought in a picture he had drawn, of them on their unicycles, she as an angel above herself, a rainbow arcing over the three figures. His sadness affected me. I felt like I could only be sad through other people. Where is my sadness? Where is my grief? Good grief, bad grief, no grief? Alternatives to grief.

#teenagesuicide #goodgrief #badgrief

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bee-kathony · 5 years

Photo

“Your Nose is Blue” - Jamie and Claire

This is my ‘One Quote, One Shot’ fic, thank you @balfeheughlywed and @notevenjokingfic for organizing this! nswf at the end

My quote is: “Your nose is blue,” I remarked conversationally. I glanced downward. “And so are your feet.” He grinned and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “So are my balls. Want to warm them for me?”

Lallybroch December 8th, 1743

Snow had been falling every day since the first of December. Jamie and I had been at Lallybroch for almost two months, and it had been the happiest two months of our entire marriage. Granted, we hadn’t been married very long, but there was a simplicity with Jamie at his childhood home that we hadn’t found anywhere else.

I relished in every story that Jamie told me about growing up here. Even the ones that didn’t favor him in a good light — him and Ian sneaking away, getting into all kinds of mischief which led them to both be disciplined by Jamie’s father. I wondered what it would be like if both of Jamie’s parents were still alive, much in the same way I wondered the same about my own.

His sister, Jenny had been wary of me at first, and I didn’t blame her. I was a stranger who had come into her home, wed to her younger brother — I’d be cautious too. But over the past few weeks, we had grown close and I began to consider her my own sister.

I was still getting used to the idea of settling down and making a life here. There were still mornings when I would wake up and forget what century I was in. When I looked over to see Jamie, his hands folded across his stomach, and a small smile on his lips, I was grateful to be here — with him.

It was another chilly morning, much like it had been the past several days. My toes were ice cold and I turned over in bed to snuggle up to Jamie. I pressed my feet against him, warming them to his hot skin. He started to squirm, his eyes fluttering open and I felt him wrap his arm around me.

“Ah, Sassenach,” he said groggily. “Yer feet are freezin!”

“Sorry,” I started to pull them away, but he pulled me closer.

“Nah, tis alright,” he grinned, placing a kiss to my forehead. “Twas just a shock this early in the mornin’.”

“Would you be able to go and get some fresh wood for the fire later?” I asked him, resting my head on his chest. The heat radiated off of him, and he knew as well as I did that the fire was for my benefit only.

“Aye,” he said. “I’ll go chop some down after breakfast.”

“Get enough for the whole house if you can,” I looked up at him, tracing my finger along his chin. “I think everyone must be out as well. The whole damn place is freezing!”

“Och,” Jamie turned me in his arms, pressing my back to his chest. “They say a quick way to warm up is to take all yer clothes off and lay yer body next to another.”

“We can’t bloody walk around naked all day,” I laughed. “That only works when we’re in bed. What about the rest of the time?”

Jamie sighed, his hand settling over my stomach. “Hmm, well then I reckon I’ll have to keep ye in my bed all day.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” I chuckled, turning my head to look at him, noticing his smug expression. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve seen you ever lay in bed all day. You’re constantly doing things around the stables or with Ian.”

“Aye, yer right about that.” His hand moved along my arm, fingers lightly tracing my skin. “There’s much to do, even wi’ the snow. Ah!” He suddenly shouted in my ear. “Ye can help Jenny wi’ the clickit. I saw her start a new scarf just yesterday.”

“Clickit?” I asked, turning back to look at him. His brows rose near his hairline and he rose to his perch himself on his elbow, staring down at me like I’d just cursed his mother’s grave.

“Claire,” he said incredulously. “Are ye tellin’ me ye canna clickit at all?”

I shook my head, twisting to lie flat on my back.

“And what did ye do for your winter stockings in yer time, then?”

“Bought them,” I said simply.

He looked from me and then out the window, “Well, I dinna see any shops about, I suppose ye’d best learn, aye?”

“I suppose so,” I eyed him dubiously.

“Tis no’ that hard, Sassenach,” Jamie shook his head. “Once we go downstairs, I’ll show ye how to get ye started.”

“You can clickit?” I asked, surprised.

“Well of course I can,” he laughed. “I’ve known how to clickit wi’ needles since I was seven years old. Do they no’ teach bairns anythin’ in your time, Sassenach?”

I thought for a moment, trying to come up with an answer. “Sometimes they teach little girls to do needlework, but not the boys.”

“Tis no’ fine needlework, Sassenach,” Jamie sat up in bed, pulling the sheet up to his waist. “Just simple knitting.”

Muttering under his breath about raising children the proper way, he climbed out of bed, stark naked in search for his sark. Once he found it, he shrugged it over his shoulders, now grabbing his kilt.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” I asked, admiring him from bed, my arms stretched above my head.

Jamie came over to me, looking down with both hands on his hips, kilt still in one hand. “There’s no time to waste, Sassenach. Ye’ve gone this long w’out learnin’ how to clickit, tis time for yer teachin’ to begin.”

“But breakfast,” I said, rolling over in bed and then I felt something land on top of me — it was my shift. He was bloody serious about me learning how to clickit, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I got dressed, watching the puzzled looks that crossed his face every now and then. There were a handful of times that I wished it were possible for Jamie to travel through the stones — if only to see what my time was really like, how things were different.

Once we were both dressed, Jamie led us downstairs where he proceeded to tell the whole household about my clickit skills — or lack thereof.

“What do ye mean she canna clickit?” Jenny asked, pausing from serving bowls of porridge on the table.

“Claire was never taught it as bairn,” Jamie shook his head, taking his seat at the table. I followed, feeling embarrassed at my lack of knitting knowledge. It just wasn’t a skill I had ever needed. When I wanted to wear something warm, I would buy it — necessity was the mother of invention and in my time, shops were invented so we didn’t have to knit.

“Well, I ken what we’re doin’ today,” Jenny said and shoveled porridge into my bowl.

++++++

It was an hour later, and I was sitting with Jenny in the living room, my fingers cold and feeling strained. Both Jenny and Jamie had explained it to me — draw the thread out of the closed fist, make a loop around your thumb, slip it into the needle and you cast a row. It looked simple enough, but every time I tried, it all came apart.

After watching me fail again and again, Jamie had shrugged, and left me in Jenny’s capable hands while he went to fetch firewood.

“Maybe by next Christmas I’ll have managed a small scarf,” I said helplessly. “I’m quite skilled with a knife or needle, but only when it comes to flesh, not knitting.”

“Och, ye’ll get the hang of it, Claire,” Jenny smiled, her fingers working quickly on her own scarf. She had no trouble at all casting a row, and I tried to watch, but my brain and hands couldn’t work together in that way.

I set aside my mess of a scarf, and picked up a bit of yarn, rolling it into a neat ball. In the winter, there wasn’t so much to do outside of the house besides tending to the animals. My hands were itching to hold a real needle in them or dig up the earth for planting. It was no wonder so many babies were made in the winter months — there wasn’t anything else that could be done!

“I think I’m going to go and lie down for awhile,” I said and stood up. “Will you tell Jamie when he comes back that I’m upstairs?”

“Aye, of course,” she smiled. “I expect he’ll be back soon wi’ the fresh wood. We could use it, looks like it’ll be a cold one again tonight.”

I left Jenny in the living room, and rubbed my hands together for warmth as I walked up the stairs. I wanted Jamie to hurry up and come back, not only for the warmth of the fire, but for the warmth of holding him next to me.

Climbing into bed, I pulled up the layers of sheets and quilts to my neck to try and get warm. My teeth were chattering, and I pulled the quilt above my head, hoping sleep would take me under.

What felt like a minute later, my eyes opened to see the sun’s shadow in a different place. It must have been an hour or more since I’d come up for a nap. The room was quiet, and the fire wasn’t lit which meant Jamie hadn’t come back yet.

Brushing my hand across my face, I rose out of the bed and walked downstairs in search of Jamie. Jenny was gone, her knitting needles stored in the basket near the couch. The fire in the main room wasn’t lit either.

“Jamie?” I called out.

Noise came from the kitchen and I followed it.

“Has Jamie come back yet?” I asked Jenny as she poured herself a cup of hot tea.

“No, I was just startin’ to grow worrit for him myself. The wee numptie should have been back by now,” Jenny shook her head. “He kens this land like the back of his own hand, so I dinna think he would be gettin’ lost.”

“Do you know where he would have gone to cut the wood?” I asked, already looking around for my wool cloak.

“Tis just back behind the house, near the tree line.” Jenny looked up from her cup of tea to find me tying my cloak on, and stepping into my shoes. “Oh, Claire, ye canna be thinkin’ about goin’ to find him. Ye’ll freeze!”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about with Jamie,” I said. “If I can’t find him, I’ll come back. And if I’m out there too long, come and find me.”

I heard Jenny mutter something under her breath about being stubborn and I laughed — she was one to talk, the other half of the Fraser siblings.

It must have still been early afternoon, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t freezing. My breath puffed out in front of me and I began walking in the direction of the tree line behind the house. It was a ways back, and I hoped for Jamie’s sake he had thought to take his coat and gloves.

“Foolish man,” I muttered, stepping through the snow. There were a few possibilities of his lateness running through my head and none of them good. Looking up to the sky, I could tell that it would snow soon — I could practically smell it in the air.

I crossed through the trees, trying to keep an eye out for a mop of red hair. Jenny said he wouldn’t go too deep into the woods, and so I turned to my right, stepping over a fallen branch.

“Jamie?” I called out, placing both my hands to my mouth to make the sound carry.

There was no answer, and I couldn’t help but think of all the horrible things that could have happened to him. A sound came from my left and I looked to see a small grey rabbit hopping through the brush. For some reason, I decided to follow it.

“Are you going to lead me to my husband little rabbit?” I said out loud and immediately rolled my eyes. Talking to rabbits now, Beauchamp.

I continued to follow the rabbit, pausing when it would stop to munch on a leaf of grass or scratch behind its ear. Soon, it stopped and jumped behind a bush. My eyes traveled upwards and that’s when I saw him.

“Jamie!”

He was lying on his side, the ax near his hand and pile of wood at his feet. I ran to him, picking up my skirts so I wouldn’t trip and end up in the same state as him.

“Jamie,” I crouched down to my knees, both hands flying over his body. My fingers were at his neck, checking for a pulse and I sighed whenever I felt that steady beat. His cheeks were pale and his lips blue, much like the rest of him. I glanced down and saw that he’d taken his boots off and the tips of his toes were blue.

“Oh, please wake up,” I knelt over his body, pulling my cloak to cover him. When I pushed back my hand over his forehead, I saw blood congealed on the side of his head. “Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!”

I checked him for other injuries, and determined it was only his head that had received the brunt of it. Most likely, he’d knocked himself in the head with the ax, and that thought did make me grin, but only briefly.

Trying to recall all my knowledge about hypothermia, I remembered that body heat was one of the best ways to revive someone. I sat up, pulling off my cloak and started to undress, hastily pulling at the laces of my bodice — I needed to lie with him, to save him in any way I could.

Just as I was about to lift my dress off over my head, I heard a groan from the body underneath me.

“Sassenach,” he said groggily and my hands dropped, covering his cheeks. I pressed my head to his, catching my breath for the first time since I’d found him.

“Oh thank God!”

“Claire,” he said a little louder. “What the devil are ye doin’ wi’ yer laces undone?”

I looked down at myself, feeling heat creep up my cheeks. “Well, I was going to warm you up — body heat.”

“Aye,” he smirked and then winced as he tried to sit up.

“Don’t move,” I said and forced him back to lie on the ground. “You’ve hit your head and you might have a concussion - er, a blow to your head.”

As he laid back, his brows knitted in discomfort, I began to tie up my laces again, putting myself in order. Thank goodness he had woken when he did because I was ready to take it all off and cover his body with mine.

“Your nose is blue,” I remarked conversationally. I glanced downward. “And so are your feet.”

He grinned and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “So are my balls. Want to warm them for me?” Cold or not, he was plainly in good spirits.

“Perhaps when you aren’t lying in snow and sporting a head with blood,” I smiled and leaned down to place a kiss on the tip of his blue nose. “What we really need to do is get you inside and by a fire.”

“Christ,” he looked over at the pile of firewood. “I dinna think I can manage to make it back like this wi’ the wood.”

“Well, maybe Jenny or Ian could come and collect it,” I said. “I should have thought to bring out a horse, but who would have thought you’d hit yourself with an ax!”

“Is that what I did?” He rubbed at his head, pulling his hand back to look at the blood that covered it now. “I dinna remember it, but I do remember ’twas a bit loose sliding through my hands.”

I slid my hand under his back to help him up into a sitting position. The back of his head was wet with melted snow. Jamie groaned as he moved, placing his head into his hands.

“Are you dizzy?”

“Aye, a wee bit,” he said. “My head feels like it’s been split open.”

“You’ll need to get plenty of water and rest over the next few days,” I told him. “But first things first is getting you out of the snow.”

It took a few tries, but I managed to help him stand up. Swaying a bit on his own, he steadied himself by placing one hand on my shoulder.

“This will be a long journey back inside,” he said and looked down at me.

“It will be with that attitude,” I smirked. “And are you going to tell me what you were doing out here in the snow with your shoes off, hmm?”

As if he had just realized he was barefoot, he looked down. “Och, I guess my feet were gettin’ sweaty and I wanted to feel the cold between my toes.”

“You’re just lucky you didn’t get stuck out here for much longer or you might have caught something called hypothermia and lost both your feet!”

“Tis no’ my feet I’m worrit about losin’,” he touched his crotch, as if checking all the bits were still there.

“Come on,” I laughed, “Let’s go home.”

++++++

It had taken nearly twice as long to get back as it had taken for me to come and find him. Jamie was moving slow, and he was obviously much larger and heavier than me so I found it difficult to support his weight.

When we arrived back to Lallybroch, Jenny and Ian had been waiting.

“Ye hit yerself wi’ an ax?” Jenny asked and I could see a smile forming on her lips.

“Aye,” Jamie scowled. “I dinna want to hear a word about it either.”

“We had to leave the wood he chopped behind,” I told them. “Would someone be able to fetch it and bring it inside?”

“I’ll do it,” Ian said. “I can take Donas out. Ye’ll have left the cart to carry it, I suppose?”

“Aye,” Jamie nodded. “I was just goin’ to pull it back myself, but ye can use a horse since yer no’ as strong as me.”

Ian flashed out his hand, lightly smacking Jamie on the side and laughed, limping away to the stables outside.

“Ye best be glad yer wife was concerned for ye,” Jenny said and came around to slide her arm around Jamie’s waist. “If it were up to me, I might have let ye stay out there all night so ye could learn yer lesson.”

We started to make our way slowly up the stairs, taking them on at a time.

“And what lesson is that?” Jamie asked.

“That ye keep as firm a grip on yer ax as ye would yer cock,” she snorted and I couldn’t help but burst into a laugh. The big heavy scot between us groaned, either in embarrassment or pain — possibly both.

Jamie landed in our bed with a thud, rolling onto his side to avoid the light from the window. Sensing his discomfort, I walked over and shut the blinds until only a sliver of light was left.

“I’ll have Mrs. Crook prepare some soup,” Jenny said. “And I’ll fetch ye another couple of quilts to keep him warm.”

“Could you see if she can make willow bark tea as well?” I asked and Jenny nodded before heading out of the room.

I looked over at Jamie, still shivering under the covers. Sitting down beside him, I ran my fingers over his cheek, which now was much warmer than before.

“You already don’t look so blue,” I commented. “How are those balls of yours?”

Jamie smirked and glanced down between his legs. “They could still do wi’ a bit of warming up.”

“That part of your anatomy is taking a bit longer to to get back to it’s normal body temperature,” I grinned, moving closer to him in bed. He was now rolling over onto his back, and his hair moved aside, showing the blood once again. “But first,” I reached out to touch his head.

Jenny came back with two more quilts and laid them on top of his body, tucking him in as any mother would do. I imagined this wasn’t the first time Jenny had to take care of Jamie after he hurt himself.

I scrounged up a bit of cloth and found my comfrey salve in a small medical chest I had brought from my days at Leoch. Jamie turned his head to the side, allowing me to cleanse his wound and spread the slave over it to help heal it.

“There,” I said and discarded the bloody cloths. “You don’t need any stitches. And I expect you’ll have a bloody good headache for a couple of days, but nothing you can’t handle.”

Jamie was looking up at me, almost innocently and childlike. So often since I’d met him, I had bandaged him and healed his wounds, and every time he had the same expression on his face.

“What?” I asked, moving to sit beside him again.

“I just love havin’ such a fine healer as my wife,” he smiled. “Tis quite useful.”

“You do seem to get into a lot of painful situations,” I laughed and leaned against him, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Sassenach?” He asked a moment later.

“Hmmm?”

“I wasna lyin’ when I said that my balls were still blue,” he said almost sheepishly. “Ever since I woke to find ye half dressed and ready to throw yerself on me, I’ve had half a cock stand.”

“So it’s my fault, hmm?” I glanced over at him, finding blue eyes gazing at me. He was already in such a delicate state — I would have done anything to make him feel better.

“Aye, tis always yer fault,” he admitted and pulled one hand out from under the covers, reaching up to cup my cheek.

Leaning in, I kissed him, tender and slow. He was laying on his back, his head propped up on two pillows. I shifted onto my side, pulling the covers up and over my legs so I could join him in the warmth and hopefully give him some of mine.

My hand settled on his chest, feeling his erratic heartbeat for a moment before sliding it to rest over his belly. I didn’t have to move my hand much further before I came in contact with his greedy length. Jamie moaned into my mouth, his tongue sliding over my bottom lip as I palmed his cock.

“Sassenach,” he muttered between kisses. He was only wearing a clean sark, having shed his wet clothes before climbing into bed earlier. I pulled the material up and took him fully in my hand. Jamie groaned, his mouth hovering just against mine.

“As your healer, I think it’s only right for me to check on the precise color of those blue balls,” I said against his lips and I felt him twitch in my hand.

“Oh, aye,” he smirked and he was already pushing back the cover to expose himself to me.

I slid down the bed, easily fitting in between his legs and sat on my knees. Gripping his pulsing length in my hand, I ran my fingers up and down twice, watching as his hips flexed. He was trying not to move, his hands gripping the sheets beside him.

“C-christ,” he stuttered as I pressed my thumb over the head, collecting the bit of seed.

“Try not to move,” I said softly. “You wouldn’t want to hurt your head any further.”

“Sassenach, yer tryin’ to kill me,” he muttered between his teeth and then after grazing his blue balls with my hand, I descended on him. I took him eagerly in my mouth, swirling my tongue around him. I glanced up to see him watching me, and I felt my own belly light with a fire.

My hand worked in tandem with my mouth and I hollowed my cheeks, sucking deeply. Jamie was moaning, and his hips lifted off the bed, pushing his cock back against my throat.

“I’m sorry,” he was now panting, reaching his hand into my hair and I pulled my lips off of him, briefly licking the tip.

“Don’t apologize,” I smiled before placing a kiss to his head and swiping my tongue along his shaft. My hand slid down easily, pumping him and I twisted my grip, watching as his eyes shut tight. I knew he was close, so I kept my gaze on his face, waiting for that perfect moment.

I wrapped my lips over him, feeling swollen and needy. He tasted salty and whenever I met his gaze, Jamie jerked and came. I had no option but to drink him down, tasting him on my tongue, and lips and I released him with an audible ‘pop’.

Jamie wasted no time in pulling me up to lie on top of his body, his hands coming to grip my sides.

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you,” I said, placing my hands on his chest. “You shouldn’t be exerting yourself so soon.”

“Who said anything about me exertin’ myself?” He cocked a brow and reached one hand under my dress, finding my center and rubbing slowly. A few seconds later, I sank down on him, shifting until he was buried inside of me. I leaned over, pressing my lips to his and began to move. He felt so good and warm, filling me in a way that I would never tire of.

Jamie held me close to him, his hands roaming over my back, tugging at my dress. It was no use, my laces were still tied in the front and I began to push back harder on him, searching for a release of my own.

“Uhhh,” I moaned, placing a wet kiss to his cheek and jaw. Jamie’s hands found my arse under my dress, pressing me against him as he lifted his hips. And just so, he hit that spot inside of me and I came with a deep cry. I trembled in his arms, feeling his release inside me and I lay on top of him, knowing I should move to not hurt him.

Carefully, I rolled onto my side, sighing as my head hit the pillow and I lay one arm across his stomach.

“Did that take care of any blue balls?” I asked, biting my lip between my teeth.

Jamie looked over at me, running his finger over my cheek. “Aye, ye’ve taken good care of them, as ye always do.”

“It was my pleasure,” I smiled and leaned over to kiss him. Then I sat up in bed, tugging on my dress and climbed out. Jamie started to protest, but I shushed him, pulling the covers up around him. “Now, you really do need to rest. I’m going to go check on that willow bark tea, and when I come back, there will be no more funny business.”

“Aye, captain,” Jamie pressed his hand to his head and tried to wink. Laughing, I left him on his own to get the tea.

When I came back upstairs, his eyes were closed and his mouth was hung slightly open, a bit of drool dribbling down. I don’t know how he managed to possess all the qualities that made me want to claw at his back one minute and the next, tuck him up and sing him a lullaby.

I took a sip of the tea before sitting it on the bedside table and shed my clothes, crawling into bed naked with him. After all, body heat was the best way to warm up.

#one quote one shot #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #outlander fanfiction #lallybroch #canon au #your nose is blue

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