title: mama says rating: K pairings/characters: papasuke, sarada summary: you’re nothing like your mother; everything like your mother author’s note: sasuke has recently returned to konoha (permanently) and has begun to train with boruto. sarada is around 14 here and a chuunin. ps: feedback is always much appreciated:)
Sasuke Uchiha sits perched in a tree, high above the west side training grounds of Konoha, reserved for newly minted chuunin. He watches his daughter and her team train as Konohamaru Sarutobi shouts about them staying in formation. He asses the children and reasons that the team is well balanced; each child holds their own strengths and their weaknesses are counteracted by the abilities of their teammates.
Naruto’s dobe—son—tellingly, is the most gifted when it comes to chakra. He’s proficient in his taijutsu skills, unlike Naruto, thanks to Hiashi Hyuga who’d rather be damned than have his grandson be clueless as to even the most basic secrets of the gentle fist. In his time training with Sasuke, he’s been able to perfect his rasengan; it varies slightly in chakra nature from his father’s and the Fourth Hokage’s, but it’s powerful nonetheless, and he wields it with confidence as if he created the jutsu himself. Sasuke had to hand it to him, despite his cluelessness, recklessness and stupidity, Boruto was confident and brave—definitely his father’s son.
Mitsuki’s skill is slimy, gruesome and leaves even Sasuke with the slightest pang discomfort. How or when Oorchimaru taught his spawn the body distortion techniques he used so frequently (and frighteningly, Sasuke recalls), was beyond him. The blue haired boy was as precise as he was mysterious, and despite the vivid, raw memories of his old mentor flooding back to him with every move Mitsuki made, Sasuke couldn’t help but feel bad for the boy. He was clearly talented, but he couldn’t imagine how cautious others must have been of him—scary talent wasn’t always as cracked up as it seemed in the shinobi world.
Then there was Sarada, who, he’d never admit to, but, watched over a bit more carefully than the others. He watched as she trained with the diligence, poise and perfection expected of an Uchiha and wielded the same chakra control and fiery spirit of her mother. Fireballs flew from her lips with as much ease as the ground shattered below her fists. She threw shuriken with scary accuracy and spun her sharingan in a way that left Sasuke with no doubt that she had Itachi’s eyes. She weaved through training dummies with a chidori that chirped more violently than his own while her long, dark hair flew behind her.
And Sasuke smiled. He was full to the brim with a kind of pride he never thought he’d feel again—the kind when you’re so proud of your family that it leaves a visible smile that stains your heart forever. He hasn’t felt this way since Itachi was in his life, but he knows what he’s feeling now is even more abundant than the love and pride he felt as a genin baby brother, because Sarada is his daughter, his flesh and blood, and in the simplest of words, she’s incredible.
Xiumin would start at the sound of you yelling out in pain. He’d turn around, his eyebrows raising in surprise at the crime scene before him. “Jagi, how could you,” he’d say softly, gazing down at the fallen ice cream before him in mourning.
Unimpressed to say the least, Chen would shake his head at fallen soldier before him. “I’m not buying you another one,” he’d say, though he’d let you sip his shake occasionally to appease you.
You’d let out an overdramatic scream as your ice cream tumbled to the ground. Without looking at you, Baekhyun would scream as well–though he didn’t know why he was. When he saw what had happened he’d let out another, more sad scream, ignoring the looks he got from people.
Chanyeol would find this horrific event hilarious, not even bothering to hide his laughter from you. When he saw how saddened you looked, he’d try to control his giggles and buy you another one, feeling (somewhat) bad for you.
Lay would assume the worst when he heard you yell. Once he saw that you had dropped your ice cream, he couldn’t help but chuckle at your overdramatic reaction. “No worries, jagi, I’ll getcha a new one,” he’d say, patting your head like a child.
D.O would definitely be judging you by the fact that you had dropped your ice cream within five minutes of having it. He’d get you a new one, but he’d show you how to hold it, being extra about demonstrating. “Here, hold it like thiiiis.”
Of course this was a perfect opportunity for Suho to make a dad joke. Of course. He’d wrap his arm around you and pull you close before whispering in your ear, “It’s okay–I’ll let you lick my ice cream cone tonight.” You’d hit him in the arm for such a ridiculous joke, but needless to say you’d end up taking him up on that offer.
Already giggling at something you had said, Kai would laugh even harder when he saw the former ice cream cone lying dead on the pavement. “J-Jagi…what did you do?” he’d ask between fits of laughter. Though he’d buy you another one, he’d never let you live it down.
Sehun wouldn’t even look over at you when you scream–it wasn’t until you tugged on his arm that he looked at the warzone before him. “Okay,” is how he would respond, fighting to keep a straight face. He’d occasionally you have a bite of his, but wouldn’t bother going back and buying another one.
Hey sorry Emma, I can't watch at the moment, why are you gagging over that Kardashchicken segment?
Harry took a very obvious sip from his drink when Aaron mentioned Kendall’s name (he named his chickens after the Kardashians) and I could’ve ignored that, but than Harry made a “woah” face, did that pfffft thing that horses do, and took another very obvious sip from his drink when Aaron said that they “lay every day,” and that overdramatic reaction of course prompted James to ask Harry whether they do lay every day. And I was like mmmmm no, you can have those implications back, thank you. I’m not interested today.
ok finn and rey have a lot of Iconic scenes but, imo, the most iconic is the scene at maz’s castle bc like…..my guy finn absolutely 100% did not have to tell rey the truth about who he was but he did anyway?? furthermore, he really didn’t have to ask her to run away with him either, like he literally just met her but he was totally down to head off and start a life with her. im not crying, you are.
(and as a little sidenote, when kylo kidnapped rey - bc yes, children, that was a kidnapping - did finn have to go try to get her back? did he have to literally walk right back into the place he’s spent the entire movie up until this point running away from? HELL NO. but he did anyway bc #love)
AND EVEN FURTHERMORE when he stormed away from the table, did rey have to follow him? NOPE. sis could’ve just been like “ok that guy isn’t down with the cause no sweat off my back” but she did bc it was important that finn was a part of finishing what they started (together, might i add). and fURTHER, FURTHERMORE - in what is perhaps the Greatest thing rey could have ever done for finn in that moment - when finn does tell her about his stormtrooper past, sHE DOESN’T EVEN FREAK OUT ABOUT IT????? like there’s no overdramatic reaction about him lying to her or about who he really is was. like there’s just this look of…..understanding (is that a good word to use here?? idk) and i, for one, think that is Beautiful
point is, this is nonsense but finn and rey are very much in love and tfa is full of factual evidence to support that thank u.
Hey, can u do a tommy fic where y/n and Tommy are together. But y/n has to flirt with Cambell to get info and Tommy gets jealous when Cambell brags to him
Inspector - Tommy Shelby
The first time you heard Inspector Campbell’s name was not from Tommy. Arthur was talking to John about a new Inspector in town, a man who had hunted IRA members in Belfast and was now being dropped into Birmingham by Winston Churchill.
The second time you heard of him was when he came waltzing through the doors of the Garrison, not seeming to care that the facility was home to Blinders and their allies. You were behind the counter, getting yourself a glass of brandy because Harry was swamped with orders.
“That’s inspector Campbell,” Harry whispered, walking passed you.
My sister and I wondered what the hell the guys would be like drunk off their pretty little asses and well, that put a fire under my booty to let the world know!
Noctis: [The Loud One]
First and foremost, Noct is terrible at holding his liquor so things get pretty interesting pretty quickly - holy hell this kid. You know the kind of people who drink to look cool but need to make sure you see and hear them do it? Meet Noctis; the epitome of “Listen to me, I’m fucking cool!” For some reason if he can’t hear himself he believes you can’t hear him. Trying to hold a conversation? Negative. You’ll end up with the chopped and screwed version of whatever topic you where trying to elaborate on because he cuts in every 5 seconds with slurred responses about 10 octaves above normal human decibels. Trying to hold a conversation with someone else? Negative. He’ll be across the room singing the song of his people just to make sure you and everyone else remembers his princely ass. This usually ends with either one of the boys cupping a hand over his mouth for the rest of the night to shut him up. Goes missing quite often. Can usually found passed out on the couch nearest the bathroom or in a corner with a sign on his back reading “If found, return to Ignis”
Bonus: Prone to alcohol sickness – Intensive cuddles needed.
Ignis: [The Talkative One]
Tends to pass up drinks when out for a night of debauchery since he likes to keep an eye on everyone (mom does what mom wants) HOWEVER when he does give in to peer pressure from his wonderful friends, prepare your ears because the ever so stoic Ignis goes off on tangents when he’s submerged into the depths of the bottle! His conversation is completely intellectual and enlightening. Or at least it would be if you could understand a single word the man is saying. Ignis is fluent in drunken gibberish. In his mind, it comes out clear as day, but to unsuspecting victims, “Pardon?” and “What the fuck is he saying” are significant responses you’ll become pro at in no time! Not out with the guys? Get ready for a slew of drunken texts. It’s true what they say about alcohol being the ‘Truth serum’ but the texts are just half the fun. It’s the look on his face after you ask him about them that really rustles his jimmies and has you desperately trying to hold in laughter.
“I…I never should have indulged in Ifrit’s nectar.” Let the intense blushing commence!
Bonus: A very flustered Ignis.
Prompto: [The Overconfident One]
He can hold his own, that is, until he can’t. As the night progresses the show begins! Here we see our sweet, energetic and ever so shy ball of sunshine casually sipping away.. –record scratch- WRONG. Sure his sweet demeanor (if that’s what you wanna call it) and energetic mannerisms remain but that shyness gets an instant boot out the door! When the liquor flows, his confidence grows. Literally. He floats around to everyone. Will dance with anyone. Will have a drink with anyone. Want him to do shots? He’s the first to to ask “From a glass or my belly button?” Want him to strip? Hope the bar top is scuff proof! Prompto is also VERY persuasive in this state. He’ll make you want to have that last drink with him. He’ll turn on a few sultry words you didn’t know he had the brainpower to pronounce let alone use in the correct context! One minute you’re telling everyone your goodbyes for the evening, the next you’re out on the dance floor for ‘One last dance’, hips gyrating in ways you never thought possible against the blue-eyed tyrant.
Bonus: He gets VERY touchy.
Gladio: [The Emotional/Dramatic One]
It takes a while for him to get to this point but ho boy, lucky you! Out with the guys having a grand ole time, only to be interrupted by a toast to you 4 at the table. Okay cool, no big deal. Gladio says a few words of praise for his fellow companions. All is well in the kingdom. NOT. After a couple more bottles, the big guy does another…and another…before eventually you find your shoulder has turned into the man’s tissue. This is a routine and there’s no end to it until the big teddy bear blacks out. The “I love you guys!” or “You guys are the greatest. I’m so fucking lucky” declarations come out in waves and yes, he ugly cries, holy six. First time this happened, you couldn’t believe your eyes. This stone wall of a man turns to jelly right in front of you and no one says a thing as if the most normal bout of behavior ever! Following the episodes of tears comes the overdramatic reactions to any and everything. And I mean EVERYTHING. Spilled your drink? “OMG okay DON’T panic, I’ll get you another!” Someone bumps into you by mistake? “WHO THE FUCK DID IT?!” Ignis says it’s time to head out “4AM IS NOT LATE. DAMN YOU’RE ALWAYS RUININ’ THE FUN” (followed by angrily storming out, also followed by Ignis rolling his eyes so hard he can see the new recipe he came up with earlier that day) Yup, some weird big brother/toddler trope that leaves you shaking your head by the end of the night.
Bonus: Has a thing for kissing you four on the cheek.
this one time i was at a restaurant with a friend and she told me she hated dogs and…. i really had to. sit there and compose myself and keep myself from getting up and walking out of the restaurant, like… i had to tell myself that it was okay for her to not like dogs and that it didn’t affect me in any way and that my preferred reaction was overdramatic.
here comes another slight criticism. bh is the more “humorous” anime, but even then the humor gets old, because it’s (mostly) all the same: exaggerated expressions, slapstick, overdramatic reactions, etc.
yet 03 is funnier. its more clever and the humor is more diverse. the humor doesnt take away from the drama and the melancholy tone. it had dry humor, quirky humor, unexpected humor, etc. our two comedy episodes (flame vs fullmetal and the team mustang episode) are hysterical, and then more of that humor is sprinkled throughout the series. mustang’s subtle did-he-just-say-that “bigger than LOVE?”, breda falling in his chair, hughes taking ed’s food, sheska’s conspiracy theory…
it has its slapstick and exaggerations (you cant have ed without those moments of irrational anger) but that wasnt its only source of comedy. not to say bh didnt have other comedic moments, but 03 was just overall funnier, which is ironic because bh is considered the more lighthearted series
“By night the prince played his silver harp and made her weep .” (A Feast for Crows, Cersei, Chapter 24)
You know, I always say Cersei was never like Sansa to begin with. That she was ambitious when she was only ten years old, that she had a very clear idea of what she wanted and that she had no qualms about getting it for herself. I stand by it. She was a precocious child with a superiority complex, albeit descended from a mentality thatstemmed clearly from her position of nobility and her relatives. In short, she was the way she was because people let her believe so. However, rereading, this bit struck me as peculiar. I never really paid much attention to it, because as usual one tends to dismiss children’s reaction as being just that, a child’s reaction. Overdramatic and excessive, childish. But isn’t a child’s behaviour telling of their very character? Cersei was ten years old when the tournment of Lannisport took place. It was in this occasion her father promised her she would wed Rhaegar, and in this occasion Aerys very publicly humiliated Cersei and Tywin alike by defining them servants and bellowing how he would never ever marry his heir to little Cersei. Notable, before this happened, this was also the night Cersei visited Maggy The Frog’s tent and heard her prophecy.
“The Seven proved as deaf as their earthly servants. Cersei gave them all the words that she had in her, gave them everything but tears. That they will never have, she told herself.” (A Dance with dragons, Cersei, Chapter 54)
So what happened in between? What happened to the girl who cried when her silver prince played his silver harp? One could say life happened, and they would be right probably. Cersei was never good at accepting rejection, and Aerys’ slight at her family meant the first of many crushed dreams for her. Robert Baratheon was the icing on the cake. But that’s worth sparing a thought, now and then, when you judge Cersei Lannister. Remember the ten year old girl who drew herself and Rhaegar riding a dragon. Remember the ten year old girl who cried when she still allowed herself to.
More importantly, remember that when you say Sansa Stark deserves revenge for what she’s lived through… Maybe ten year old Cersei Lannister deserved the same.
With the new come back approaching, writers block just couldn’t wait a bit longer to come.
Woozi(Jihoon) x Reader (Fluff)
A/N : Its been a good hot minute since the last time I wrote. I’m so sorry I had SO much on my plate, but I’m back and will be tossing a few stories out before I start my big one! hope you guys enjoy~!
The weirdest $40 I ever made (aka “MOGAI Tumblr broke into my house and purchased my inside jokes for $18.95 a piece”):
This is a long and winding tale, so buckle in everyone. We’re gonna take a journey today.
First, I’d like to take you back to tumblr in 2013. I know, I don’t want to revisit it either, but at some point we all have to face the 10 pages of posts tagged “#wank for ts” that lie in the depths of our archives.
It was fall of 2013, and I was doing great. It was my first year of high school and I didn’t have many school friends, but I was a pseudo-member of a gang of 20 some-odd college students from twitter and tumblr who loved Les Mis. We called ourselves the “angry queers” and spent literal MONTHS of our lives arguing with enjonine (Enjolras/Eponine) shippers. We were like, so cool, you guys.
One day in October, the topic of matching #squad outfits came up on the angry queer twitter feed. Me, being desperate for attention and validation from these people who were all a good 4-5 years older than me, decided to made these shirts on zazzle:
(Side-note: the second shirt is a reference to Kat prousts, who had recently gained meme status after telling everyone the story of how she accidentally broke two completely separate dicks on completely separate occasions.)
I screencapped pictures of the shirts and posted them to twitter with a (half-joking) call to arms:
As you can see, the reviews were raving, so I submitted the shirt to zazzle officially for sale, and then promptly forgot about it for 2 years.
Eventually, time passed and people moved on. In what now strikes me as an egregiously overdramatic reaction, I had a dramatic falling out with the angry queer #squad and was blocked by 50+ people over various social media platforms in less than 24 hours. So our transatlantic zazzle poetry gang was not going strong.
That brings us to one fateful day in spring 2015. I logged in to my old email account to look for a school document, only to find that I had been receiving emails from zazzle for the better part of two years:
Notice at the top of the page, there are FOURTY-ONE emails from zazzle about “recent sales”. The earliest one appears to be from march 2014:
To my horror and extreme fascination, literally dozens of people spent 20 bucks on what was essentially a shitpost from 2013.
Not only that, they had seen that there were only two shirts for sale, one of them reading “KAT BROKE TWO PENISES”, and they STILL decided to shell out the money for it.
Since then, I’ve received an average of two emails every month letting me know that someone had purchased my design. it became kind of a running joke between me and my new group of friends.
Some of you might not have been familiar with the Les Mis fandom, so I’ll try and put this context for you: Imagine if you found out that all the terrible Invader Zim art you published to deviant-art in 2009 was being sold as physical prints, and people were paying good money to hang up your past shame in their house. That’s what this felt like.
As the classic Passover folk tune reminds us, if God had JUST made a random one-off joke viral, then dayeinu, it would have been enough. But He didn’t stop there. In a twist of fate so bizarre it seems orchestrated by Hugo himself, I recently moved 2000 miles across the country, got a tinder, and stumbled across this profile:
At this point, I’m flipping shit. Someone just basically used MY CREATION as a means of (indirectly) flirting with ME. Thus, the ourboros is moved from itself to itself, sees itself, and is present with itself.
Obviously, I swiped right, and the next day I received a message from the heavens:
At last, I had met my maker. I can’t explain how it feels to talk to the very person responsible for your super villain origin story, but I sincerely hope each one of you will one day experience it.
Inspired by this recent turn of events, I decided to check my zazzle account, and lo and behold, found out I had been receiving royalties for my design this entire time!
Zazzle.com usually doesn’t send checks out until $100 of royalties have been earned, but I paid $5 just for the sheer novelty of getting a check addressed to “Angry Queer Apparel”, which I look forward to receiving in 3-5 business days.
So: to the 31 Americans, 13 Brits, 1 Australian, 1 Canadian, and 1 Eurozone citizen who purchased my design; thank you for the 35 bucks!
I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who's thought of this but,,,,holy fuck ShiraHina (Shirabu x Hinata) is so fucking cute!!!!!!!! Just imagine them cuddling, Hinata sitting on Shirabu's lap and playing with his bangs, blabbing on about whatever until he falls asleep on Shirabu's shoulder. And fucking hell Hinata is just so cute Shirabu is whipped to the max he would do anything for his little sunshine goshhhhh someone sink down to the pits of rare pair hell and ship this with me pleaseeee
OKAY (sorry this took so long)
I 100% agree with everything you said. the image of shouyou playing with shirabu’s bangs is so sweet aaaaahhhhh i love it
I bet Shouyou starts with playfully making fun of Shirabu’s bangs, then seeing Shirabu’s blush and slight glare, he’ll just laugh and say that he looks cute omg
tbh i really do think shouyou will find shirabu to be really cute as well? his overdramatic reaction to things (see him blurting out HAAHH???? when he saw the new quick) but also when he’s smiling
pining and completely lovestruck Shirabu is so great because he’ll be SO reluctant in expressing anything he feels. but shouyou can definitely draw him out and all of Shirabu’s salt and annoyance will evaporate in face of an actual living sun
oh i also have this headcanon that Shirabu’s super into star wars (his fave is r2d2) so imagine the two of them watching it and Shirabu gets even MORE into the rewatch because Shouyou’s there next to him cheering for the rebels
(he also has to explain to Shouyou what was happening and speculate whether they have a future/space version of volleyball but that’s totally okay)
Summary: It didn’t seem like the right time for you and
Chanyeol when you were younger, but now that you are reunited, will it be different? Member: Chanyeol x Reader Type: Angst/ Fluff Length: 2,794 Words
I really wish I had a childhood best friend like this,
someone to eventually fall in love with. But sadly I did not and it is too late
for that. Anyways, I hope you guys like this scenario
The bento box in your hand felt heavier than it had a moment
ago. It was almost as heavy as your heart was becoming as you stared at
Chanyeol from across the hallway. Your best friend stood at his locker, leaning
back as he talked to Soyu. He had his hands in his pockets, glancing down at
her as he towered over her with his insane height. She was staring at her
shoes, occasionally looking up at him with shy eyes. Her hands were behind her
back, ringing them together nervously as she spoke. The way she stood, her legs
tightly closed and her chest pushed out towards him made it clear to you what
was happening. She was confessing to him.
You couldn’t blame her. He was the
best looking boy in your school after all, and the nicest, and funniest, and
was pretty smart. It also wasn’t like she was the only girl to ever confess to
him. After all, that was the reason why you had the bento box in your hand. But
like usual, you were just too slow.
“Let me show you how proud I am to be yours, leave this dress a mess on the floor and still look good for you…”
~ Selena Gomez
He had somewhat kept me in… captivity for
something like two weeks. I could see for the way he watched me that he was
waiting for me to snap and freak out at any second or to run away screaming to
the police. He gave me my own time to adapt and I spent a ridiculous amount of
it in the shower, feeling the hot water run down my body like the electric
waves had before it.
all very vivid, not one of those memories you keep and remember every once in a
while and try to connect the dots and fill in the blank spaces to relive it in
your head, no… it seemed more like a goddam live show now, voices everywhere,
playing their parts, making me /feel/ it instead of just remembering it. And I
felt it all, from the big things – like my trapped arms and legs, the hard
table against my back, the taste of the leather of his belt inside my mouth,
against my tongue – to the little ones – the way my glasses were falling from
my nose, how tight that skirt felt, the way it was slightly pulled up to reveal
And then the shocks. Electricity running all
over my body, creating gooseflesh, making me squirm against that table and
scream against the object that was choking me. He made a pause, somewhere in
the middle of the electroshock therapy, while I could still have my eyes open.
I believed that it was due to something between wanting to check out if I was
still alive and wanting to give me the hope that it was already over. I wasn’t
dumb enough to believe it… I knew it had barely started yet. He touched me in
the meanwhile, hands running down my cheeks, one to rest on my shoulder,
another on my neck. He didn’t squeeze it with enough strength to make me panic
but it was enough to make me struggle for air against his belt. I kept
screaming. Not because I wanted him to quit touching me but because I knew that
if I didn’t, he would drop his hands and the game would end and he would stop
feeling my skin. And I needed that touch to bear with the shocks I knew were
still to come. And so I screamed, I screamed until I felt like the walls of my
throat were reduced to blood and I just couldn’t produce another sound but some
confusing moans that were a mix of entreaties and his name. That was the moment
the voices appeared. Whispering, hiding, multiplying at every electric discharge.
Then the chemicals came along after swearing to an oath I didn’t fully
understand but that I craved. My veins were burning, itching, begging for
release. It came, once again, in the form of his hands. Pulling me out,
bringing me closer. And then his lips… those lips that filled my imagination
for ages in that room of the asylum… He
didn’t settle my fire, didn’t put an end to pain. He added gasoline to flames
that were already out of control and I collapsed in his arms out of pain and
After that the voices were never quiet again
which lead me to make a scene the previous night, my own pity party. I had
knocked my head on the wall so many times when he grabbed me from behind I was
starting to think I was gonna make a bruise. And still, they didn’t stop. That
was the first time I allowed myself to cry in front of him, ever since the
electroshock therapy. I could barely make sense of my own words – or his, to be
honest – as I mumbled and cried out how loud they were. I begged him to make
them go away. He only replied “But then you would miss their little talks” and
even though I believed him I didn’t miss them at all when he took me to bed and
made me forget about them and their murmurs and even my freaking name… he had a
way of doing that, making every single thing on my mind slip to second place
when his hands reached for my body. Nothing mattered more than him…
The next night he took me out. It was going be
his first appearance in Gotham City ever since the news of the breakout had
spread. It was going to be my first ever appearance too so I made sure I looked
more than gorgeous. I was having a little trouble finding a way to deal with my
recently acquired hair color… or… colors… but that night it fell in perfect
waves down my shoulders and into my deep cleavage making a mess of pale blonde,
red and blue that seemed just right as I walked inside the club with my arm
linked in his.
“Wow!” I couldn’t help myself, widened eyes as
I scan the place. It was huge, filled with lights and people dancing and loud music!
It smelled like alcohol, sugar, expensive perfume, gun powder and cigarette
smoke. It was like the best things in the world had collided and created that
place on top of sins and secrets “Ya own this!?”
He burst of laughter at my reaction, sliding
his arm around my waistline and taking us to his usual place. Everyone stopped
to greet him as he walked by, big smiles and respectful nods, loud “Great to
have ya back, J!” and offers of free drinks for the biggest boss in the house.
I couldn’t stop noticing they saw me as well, eyes wandering around my body in
curiosity, studying my face and giving up quickly to let their eyes fall to my
cleavage. I liked it. The attention. I didn’t appreciate it in a long time and
now that it was back – for all the wrong reasons – I loved it.
He drowned on the couch with a big grin and I
fell next to him with a giggle. It didn’t take one second for someone to come
inside carrying a glass of bourbon and a ridiculous amount of different drinks
with small colorful umbrellas. I chose a pink one, thanking the bartender with
a smile. People came in and out for at least an hour, sitting down and talking
to him about business and what had happened while he was away. I stopped
listening five seconds after that. My eyes were glued to the dancers in the
dark, putting up a show on top of purple stage or inside glass contents. I only
looked away when I felt his metal teeth biting my earlobe.
“Enjoying the show?”
I look around the room before turning my eyes
to him. There were at least five men there, talking loudly about things I
didn’t understand, sipping drinks I had never tried.
“I could do that.” I say in a determinate tone
and I saw the way his grin went from seductive to playful “I’m serious!” I turn
my eyes to the dancers again “I could /so/ do that.”
He laughed, stopping the conversations and
bringing the attention to us “No, you couldn’t.”
My chin drops in an overdramatic reaction “Of
course I could!”
“Fine.” He made a large gesture with his hand,
raising his eyebrows in a daring way “Prove it.”
“Fine!” I placed the glass on the table and
stepped out of his small room, separated by the rest of the club for a bunch of
colorful curtains. I walked in a determinate way, heels clicking on the floor
and then I stopped for a moment, trying to choose a place to go. Making him a
small show inside of one of those glass things eventually crossed my mind but I
ended up deciding to walk towards the other stage, climbing up in a swiftly way
and winking at the dancers that were in it already and their confused
I took a deep breath, body starting to move in
the rhythm of the song, first slowly, then more wildly. It was like the loud
music mixed itself up with the screams of the voices, like they were cheering
my actions up. And it took control. I wrapped my fingers around the metal pole,
taking all my good gymnastics’ days back, back when I was sixteen, wining gold
at the national championship along with the title of Queen Of The Beam. I could
do things in that piece of wood that nobody should be allowed to do. Now I was
more than that. I was Queen Of Gotham City and I could sure as hell make things
on a metal pole that nobody should be allowed to do. I grab it from a high
place, jumping and twirling my legs around it before letting my body fall over
and exchange the position. I felt my dress fall to rest above my hips and I
didn’t care. It felt good… I felt… free. And I laughed and I danced and I did
things I didn’t remember I could do but that my body seemed to have memorized.
I was surrounded by people the moment I stepped out of the stage and I just
kept on dancing, closed eyes, open lips, short dress. That was loud and dark
and I felt just like I belonged there. I felt bodies pressed to mine, hands,
running up and down me like I belonged to them, I could even hear some words
being whispered in my ear but I couldn’t understand them and I didn’t care. It
felt like my very own personalized version of paradise.
I only opened my eyes when I felt a grab on my
hand, forcing me to go against someone’s body.
“Are you new here?” I look up to watch the man
who was talking. He seemed like one of guys Mistah J could have business with,
dressed in dark clothes and filled with jewelry. A Mafia boss, I was sure. And
he was grabbing my arm…
“I… I’m a not dancer!” I screamed so he could
“I thought so.” He leaned closer for me to hear
his words better “Your dress costs more than what they make in a month. Who do
you work for?”
“The Joker.” I say after a small hesitation.
He took a step back, eyes scanning my body from
head to toe before his smile got wider “I can top that. Go ahead, make your
offer. How much do you want!?”
I lifted an eyebrow in confusion “How much do I
want for what!?”
“To be mine instead of his.” I stopped dancing,
eyes locked upon his. What was that man saying!? Even the voices were quiet
now, waiting for my reaction “C’mon, hotness, a young lady like you shouldn’t
be trapped under the grip of that man. Look at you, dollface, all pretty and…
fresh.” I hated the way he pronounced that word and I hated even more the way
his hands cupped my cheeks while said it. I tried to get free but I couldn’t
“He has a fucked up history with girls, baby. Ask around. He likes it hard. I’m
sure you don’t want that little pretty face of yours marked by that asshole’s
“Is that how you conquer all your girls!?” I
manage to say even though he had my face trapped in his paws.
“Oh, I’m not trying to conquer you, honey. I
don’t have to conquer you, you I buy. How much?”
I wrapped my fingers around his wrists, sinking
my long nails in his skin “Take your hands off me!”
“No? Okay. Guess I’ll just have to take you
“She said…” the voice sounded loudly between
the music and my eyes twitch to the side “…to take your hands off her.”
“J…” he started but he never managed to end.
“No? Okay.” The sound of a gun being shot, the
man falling to his knees. My body was shaking, eyes widened at the figure on my
feet with a bullet on his hand.
He growled, bending over himself before lifting
his bleeding hands in a defensive way “I didn’t do anything, J. C’mon, man, the
bitch was all over me!”
“Uh uh.” Mistah J shook his head, not like a
normal person would but in that slow way he had, moving it like a snake before
attacking “My bitch.”
“I didn’t know, man. I swear.” Liar! Liar,
liar, liar! Every word that came out his mouth made me want to punch him with
my heel, right on the eye!
“Ya see, /man/, I don’t like when people go
around touching what’s mine. My city. My club. My toys. My rules.” He looked at
me at last, throwing the gun without warning. I catch it with some trouble
before feeling its weight on my hands. It was heavier than I imagined “My
Harley.” The man on the floor was mumbling something. He had put aside the
tough act to start to beg for his life but I couldn’t listen to him. My eyes
were on my puddin’, listening to his words like a believer listens to a prayer
“Go ahead, toots. Aim.” I took a deep breath, fixing the gun on my hands and
stretching my arms, gun touching the forehead of the crying man.
“Mistah J, I have never…”
“Fire it up.”
“Now!” And I did. The sound was crazy loud and
if there was anyone that wasn’t already watching the scene, we had most
definitely called their attention with that shot. I took a step back due to the
effort, managing to balance myself upon my heels. He got closer, hand resting
on my waist and pulling me to him before taking the gun away from me and
lifting it “Anyone else needs a warning shot!? Uh?” he pressed the trigger,
firing a bullet to the ceiling and I crawled closer to him, shielding my body
with his. Nobody even dared looking twice. It was like the music stopped for
couple of minutes and now everything came back to being noisy. People just
looked away and kept on dancing and drinking. Everything was the same except
for that cadaver on the floor “Ya’re shaking like a poodle, doll. Get over
yourself.” He slid his gun down his belt, hand pressing on my lower back and
forcing me to move “Haven’t ya ever sucked the life out of someone, toots?”
“N-no.” I mumbled, staring at my hands. I was
shaking madly. I had just held a gun in my hands and… /killed/ a man with it.
He laughed at my reaction, big green eyes
rolling “Ya’re awfully mumbling tonight. Say something properly.”
“Thank you.” I complied, lifting my big eyes to
him, innocent a stuffed animal “For helping me.”
“I’ll consider it my job until I trigger that
pretty head of yours to strongly kick every man that touches you between his
I smiled, looking around as he suddenly stopped
in the middle of the crowd instead of taking me back to his private room “And I
wasn’t… all over him.” I added, still confused as he pulled me in front of him.
“I know. I was watching.” He reassured, with a
nod, pressing my body against his. He was moving slowly and a wide grin spread
on my lips when I finally understand he was dancing. With me! He stopped to
dance with me! “But ya did put quite a show up there.” He spitted between metal
teeth “Ya’re gonna have to spend hella time on your knees tonight if ya ever
want to do that again…”
I bite my lower lip, resting my face on his
chest to hide the way I was blushing “Did ya like that? Did I do well, Mistah
J?” I made a small pause, offering him a daring look “D’ya like watching?”
I laughed, chuckles escaping from my red lips
as he grabbed my cheeks with one of his hands, pressing them tighter “Are ya
sweet talking me?”
I can’t contain my laughter at his punch line,
I had heard it before and I knew what it brought: Pain. My giggles get louder,
less controlled. Crazier. I could see the smile on his lips growing. The
chuckles rapidly become heavy breaths as I feel his free hand moving up my
inner thigh, under my dress. I press my legs together in an instinctive
movement but it only made him force his way through… I feel his fingers
against my underwear and I widened my eyes “Puddin’… we’re in public…”
“Does that bother ya, Harley?” he let go of my
face to use his hand to bring me closer to him “Because I’m gonna have to ignore
it if it does… ya’re gettin’… way too much attention… I want everyone to know
who you belong to.”
“Aah…” a soft moan escaped from my lips and I
squirmed against his hand, trying to remain straight as I felt him pushing his
finger a little further “People are watchin’…”
“Let them. If they look real close they might
just learn somethin’…” he clenched his jaw, shaking his head twice before
allowing himself to look at me again “Gosh, you’re gorgeous. I have to ruin
that pretty face of yours before I bring you here next time…” my smile only got
wider. He leaned over to catch my lower lip between his metal teeth, biting it
until it started to bleed. It didn’t hurt much but still I embraced it… It
felt… good… “Lick it.” I obeyed, blue eyes on green ones “Good girl.” He growled “Dammit. I want to scratch my name
all over your body…”
“Then do it…” I whispered because I couldn’t
talk any louder, not without screaming, not when he was touching me like that.
I felt it, his nails sinking in my skin, slowly starting to scratch. I bent
over him, lips brushing against his ear “I belong to you.”
I take a moment to get myself together “I
belong to you.”
“And proud to be yours.”
It was his time to grin “Prove it.”
I licked my lips, moving my head so I could
watch his face again, twisted smile mirroring his “Let’s put on a show,
You glanced over at Hoseok over your large sundae. With a
raised eyebrow you let the normal answer of “What do you mean?” fall from your
“Well…it’s just you guys actually say hi to each other now
and you don’t just grunt and glare whenever you see him,” Hoseok shrugged,
taking a long lick from the ice-cream cone, “Did something happen?”
You swallowed a spoon fool of ice-cream and then said, “Well…during
Halloween we watched scary movies and then he slept over.”