Neve na calçada

Neve na calçada

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Dec 20, 2017
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Fiction
Mystery
O pesadelo sempre começava do mesmo jeito: ela estava nua escolhendo um vestido em frente a um grande espelho, quando sentia cheiro de merda. Percebia, então, que não estava sozinha. Pelo espelho via um homem enorme que a observava enquanto se masturbava com as mãos ensebadas... (Conto publicado na Revista da Editora Benfazeja) http://revistabenfazeja.com.br/portfolio-item/ana-gabriela-rebelo-neve-na-calcada/
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Title from "...well, better than the alternative." by Will Wood. Standing there, in a long brimmed fedora and black trenchcoat, was unmistakably Himiko. Her face was a little obscured, sure, but Ochako would know her anywhere. It wasn't like she'd watched News Reports to stare into those beautiful, golden eyes, relishing in the way they lit up when Himiko was excited, or to admire her fighting style, attempting to commit to memory every swing and step she made, or anything else super nonspecific like that. Ochako had just seen Himiko once or twice, so she remembered that stuff for normal reasons! That wasn't relevant though! Ochako just knew her by her voice, and by the way it felt when Himiko looked at her, and by the fact that there were bright blonde flyaways poking around from under the fedora. &gt;&lt;&gt;&lt;&gt;&lt; OR: Dabi had told her a few times that Ochako wouldn't just kiss her because the mistletoe was above them. Himiko reminded him that she was a hero, and that heroes were prone to following rules, even silly ones like kissing under mistletoe. &gt;&lt;&gt;&lt;&gt;&lt; OR OR: Himiko follows Ochako around, attempting to get her under the mistletoe. Shenanigans ensue.

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